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umm dont hate me y’all I was bored.
for: @b3achysurfur cuz you wanted smth like this I think? I know you never asked me personally but I couldn’t stop thinking about it so I decided to write it.
disclaimer: english is not my first language.
tw: death and slight blood (but like I’m bad at describing it so there’s not much.)
The day had gone like this: Alex came to her room (or prison or cell or whatever the synonym of ‘locked up somewhere against one’s will’ was called) did mandatory checkups and then stayed to chat for a bit. Not that Ashlyn participated, instead opting to stare blankly at Alex until he understood that she wanted to be left alone. And once he did (quite dense, he was) he left without a word.
Finally being alone for the few minutes or hours (she never knew the time anymore) before twelve, she worked on devising an escape plan. She knew they couldn’t escape via window, mainly because no one was allowed permission to leave the cubed room without guards following them. Ashlyn was aware that leaving through the alternate dimension wouldn’t help either, since their bodies stayed tethered to its original spot.
A pain to work with, yes, but not a nuisance. She could find a way, somehow, and she would. She wouldn’t let her friends stay in this weird asylum place any longer than they had to. By any means necessary.
Ashlyn could feel her body being transported to the alternate dimension, the way her stomach dropped and her heart began to beat faster until she blinked and she was still in her claustrophobic room, but the scraping and screeching of phantoms gave away where she was.
She didn’t take long to get off the bed and made her way to Tyler’s room (where everyone had unanimously agreed to meet up the first time they’d been sent to the phantom dimension). Everyone else was already there when she opened the door and she felt relief wash over her once she saw them — as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders temporarily. They were somewhat safe — as safe as one could be in a dimension with deadly creatures out to kill you.
It didn’t take long for everyone to begin looking for a way out. They went in pairs: Tyler and Aiden (obviously), Taylor and Ben and Ashlyn and Logan. Once the teams had been made everyone was quick to split up (save for Tyler and Aiden, who were stuck sitting in Tyler’s room).
Ashlyn hadn’t been paying attention when it had happened. One minute, she had been looking through a hallway checking for phantoms with Logan behind her — and the next she’d heard him scream and drop his gun on the floor with a loud clunk. She looked over her shoulder, a question about to leave her lips when she paused.
A phantom held Logan’s face between two claws, pressing down on either side and making a sickening crunch. She winced but didn’t move. Logan was screaming, crying, pleading to her to do something, but she was frozen. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or mild curiosity that was stopping her from helping the boy.
Her hesitance paid the price in the end, with blood oozing out of Logan’s eyes and nose and ears, and one last sickening crunch echoed through the halls before Logan stilled. The phantom dropped him immediately, the manic grin on its face never dropping as it charged for her. Ashlyn’s feet finally moved, dodging the attack and grabbing the discarded gun from the floor. With a resounding bang, the phantom dropped to the floor and stayed down.
She wasn’t sure why she had to bite back the grin that was forming when she looked at Logan’s body. Claw marks were bruised into his face and the blood kept oozing out until it made a small puddle on the floor. Ashlyn tilted her head, something akin to surprise flowing through her as she blinked at the sight.
Logan was dead. Logan was dead.
A grin finally broke through her face and this time she didn’t fight it. Maybe she should feel sad since Logan was part of the team, part of the same team she’d sworn she’d protect and yet here he was. Lying on the floor looking pathetic as ever. She showed no sympathy towards him and almost wondered why, before deciding that contemplating such queries would be a waste of her time.
Instead, she walked passed Logan’s body and made her way back to the gang. They all seemed worried about the noise, asking questions and wondering if she was alright. She reassured them, of course she was alright. In fact, she was delighted!
“What’s got you smiling like that?” Tyler asked, almost suspiciously.
“Logan died,” was her only explanation before the room burst into relived laughs and celebratory clapping.
“Actually?” Aiden asked, tilting his head with a smile, “he’s like actually dead?”
Ashlyn nodded, “yeah.”
“You know what that means?” Taylor said, grin stretching into a happy smirk. “Party time!”
And with everyone’s enthusiasm, they set up a party with whatever decorations they could find (which wasn’t much, but Taylor was really good at compromising) and before long the starch-white walls had been splashed with a variation of colours from Aiden’s paints and ‘LOGAN DIED!!!’ was written on the wall with bright red paint.
Ashlyn had never been to many parties before, she could count on one hand how many times she’d attended a party willingly. But she didn’t think any other party or event could compare to the tomfoolery they got up to while celebrating the death of their teammate. Aiden started a conga line; Taylor shredded paper to throw it around the room like make-shift confetti; Ben showed them a few dance moves and even Tyler was enjoying himself.
Deep down, Ashlyn knew that no sane person would host a party for a dead comrade, but it’s been a long time since she was considered ‘sane’ and the facility they were locked in just proved it. So maybe she let herself indulge, just a bit, now that Logan was gone.
#take my dogshit writing guys#don’t criticise me I know I’m bad#BTW I AM NOT A LOGAN HATER (although I do think he’s kinda boring story-wise rn)#pls don’t come for my family/j#school bus graveyard#sbg#sbg (webtoon)#ashlyn banner#aiden clark#logan fields#ben clark#tyler hernandez#taylor hernandez#tw death#my writing#my fics#I guess?#if I decide to post it on ao3 that is#fu’s writing
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if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:
Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.
It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:
This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?
Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.
Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:
SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."
That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.
The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.
HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.
Uh oh!
Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.
You can guess where this is going.
So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.
Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.
#long post#side note- this is one of the reasons i dont cover shit i dont like in my video essays. yall havent seen me angry.
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BEGGING ON MY KNEES FOR CORRUPTION KINK WITH DARYL YOU WRITE SMUT SO HEAVENLY😫😫😫
SWEET LITTLE SINNER
THE YUMMY STUFF: Age gap, (Daryl is in his late 50s, Reader in her early 30s) Creampies, breeding kink, fingering, bit of cockwarming, just smutty stuff, ...petnames 😇, semi-public?? guys they fuck in the church, virgin fem!reader, religious!reader, dont cancel me for this, but religion kink
DO NOT READ IF YOU THINK YOU'LL FEEL OFFENDED BECAUSE HOW YOU FEEL IS NOT MY PROBLEM
OKAY ANON I KNOW IM ANSWERING THIS REQ MONTHS LATER BUT BEAR WITH ME ALRIGHT 🎀
Im playing around with a new posting format and I honestly really like it so far! Im just literal dogshit at summaries so I don't necessarily bother with them (I mean at least I try) but eeeerm guys let me know if its cutie AND PLEASE LOOK AT MY BLOG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I CHANGED THAT TOO
So after scrolling through the mounds of unanswered asks I have, I found this one and it reminded me of a conversation I had with my sister abt Daryl x a Christian girl who holds herself very high to her faith and has a deeper understanding of the bible
This takes place around the time they find gabriel, and somehow this ended up being a !greene reader, I also had to extend the church for... purposes :3
Believe it or not this is my first time ever writing corruption kink 😭 I got this request back when I was still fresh on tumblr and its been sitting ever since because I just didn’t know what to do (and I still dont)
southern gothic has me in a chokehold and I cant breathe
"Come on! Fight to the fence!" The sound of Rick's voice bellowed over the deafening clang of metal and ringing gunfire, rapidly taking down any walkers that shuffled within range as the men helped the women to climb over the fence first, Carl dropping down and catching all the weapons that were tossed onto the safe side.
Rosita crawled up the chain fence quickly, noticing that you were behind her when she was balanced right on top and extending a hand out to you. "Up and over" She lightly yet urgently joked, and you could only let out a small huff of air as you grasped her hand, and hauled yourself upwards, swinging a leg over to join her in scaling down the other side.
"Let's go! Move your asses!" Abraham shouted as he fired his gun, covering Rick as he made a break for the fence, the redhead man not far behind once the walkers had started to herd up. He threw the firearm over the fence and easily jumped onto half the fence, using a walker's head as a boost to fling himself over onto the other side.
As you and the others hastily gathered your belongings, no one dared to look back at the remnants of Terminus, trying to stay together as you all ran for a safe place behind Rick, expecting that he had some kind of miracle up his sleeve and would find a place to hunker down for a few hours, days even.
Despite the chaos and the destruction that surrounded you, you and the rest of the group hastily gathered your belongings, not daring to look back at the ruins of Terminus. Trying to stay as closely together as possible, you all followed Rick's lead as he dashed through the trees. He was the one who had kept the group alive for so long, and everyone was hoping that he could do it for just a little while longer.
After what felt like forever, you could feel the intense heat seeping into your skin and making your clothes stick to your body. Every step you took felt like a burden, with the fabric rubbing against your flesh. The air was thick with humidity, and you could feel the moisture clinging to your skin, making you feel sticky and uncomfortable. You glanced around at the other people around you, all of them appeared to be struggling in the heat, with their foreheads glistening with sweat and their breathing labored.
As you looked over at Daryl, you couldn't help but notice the solemn expression on his face as he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. It was clear that he had been struggling to come to terms with Carol's sudden disappearance, and had been much more withdrawn and reserved than usual. He seemed to be lost in thought, lost in his own world, and it was hard to know how to reach out to him.
"Right here," Rick spoke as he brought the group out to a small clearing that was surrounded by trees, briefly scanning the area before crouching down in the dirt and beginning to frantically dig.
Abraham scoffed, "Tha' hell are we still around here for?" taking a few steps forward as he analyzed and addressed Rick, watching the man pull out a blue duffel bag.
"Guns. Some supplies," He said bluntly, pulling the black zipper back and further exposing the bag's contents, multiple guns, and other hand-held weapons. "We go along the fences, use the rifles, and take out the rest of 'em."
"What?" Glenn gawked, staring at Rick in disbelief as he listened to the words spewing out his mouth, bouncing around uncomfortably in his head.
Rick started to pull out the variety of weapons one by one, not once turning to meet Glenn's gaze. "They don't get to live."
The latter pursed his lips and huffed, stepping closer to Rick as to get his attention. "Rick, we got out. It's over."
"It's not over till they're all dead." Rick growled, shaking his head.
"They are dead. That place is on fucking fire, crawling with walkers in every which way." Rosita spat, laughing in annoyance at Rick's stupidity.
You shake your head as Rick continued to pull items out of the bag, "We got lucky back there," you said, voice low and trembling. "It's not worth risking our lives by going back in" your eyes meeting Rick's in a plea for him to understand. "God doesn't always give us a second chance. Just play the hand you were dealt" The thought of going back into that walker-infested place made your skin crawl, and you couldn't understand why Rick was wasting his time.
"Does he think he could give me one?" A familiar voice spoke softly from behind your group, faces lighting up in surprise and joy as Carol lightly stepped through the forest, appearing from behind a tree with her signature smile tugging at her lips, stretching all the way up to her ears when all of Daryl's weight barreled into her frame, almost knocking her straight onto her ass with a shocked laugh.
Her unexpected appearance managed to lift the once extremely heavy atmosphere, now bright and bubbly as it was filled with smiles.
"Did you do that?" Rick questioned once it was his turn to hug Carol, not getting a verbal response but the cheeky smile painting her blood-covered face was more than telling. However, it didn't last long once she scanned over the entirety of the group. "You have to come with me."
Carol led the group through the forest and down the train tracks until reaching a small cabin hidden in the trees where Tyrese and sweet little Judith had been holed up waiting for her return, everyone watching as Sasha, Rick, and Carl sprinted towards them, each cradling their respective loved one. It was another emotional yet much-needed heartfelt reunion, especially considering that the last few weeks had been nothing but hell in a handbasket.
"We should get moving, the fire's still burning" The grey-haired woman suggested as she gave the tall, rising black smoke one last look over.
"Yeah. We need to go" Rick nodded as he took stared at the smoke, an unreadable expression on his face and in his eyes.
Daryl huffed slightly, "Yeah, but where?" glancing around the remote area.
"Doesn't matter. Somewhere far away from there."
It had been a long few days since the group had gotten somewhere far away from there, and a long few days since anyone had anything to eat. Stomachs were empty and energy seemed to only be decreasing, the hunger gnawing away at all of you.
As the sun slowly began to rise above the horizon, Daryl quietly made his way into the dense forest in search of something to eat. It was quiet, and peaceful as he gingerly and skillfully walked through the mess of vines and roots at his feet, blue eyes scanning the dirt floor for any sign of movement that might indicate the presence of an animal.
Oddly enough, it felt like he wasn't necessarily alone in these woods, glancing around and over his shoulder more than he typically would. Maybe it was just a nearby walker he could sense before he could see, but he knew way better than to believe something like that. His gut told him that there was someone else out here, and Daryl learned to always listen to his gut.
He instinctively raised his crossbow to be eye level, scanning the treeline as he took careful and quiet steps, moving from the west to the north and then east. There was a slight breeze that ruffled the leaves, tousled dark hair in his face, and flowed a dirty white skirt from a few feet from him, a tiny but audible gasp heard.
It had come from behind a thick collection of bushes, Daryl carefully combing them out of the way with one hand and ducking to prevent anything from getting in his eye. He had a tight grip on his crossbow, ready for whatever potential danger could be on the other side.
Luckily for him though, there was no danger. It was just you, the weird and off-putting Greene who had somehow turned into a new interest for Daryl, not quite being able to put his finger on just what it was that drew him towards you.
You were a quiet, soft but strange Christian girl, much different than Maggie and Beth. Unlike them, you seemed to have some kind of spiritual connection to the bible, a deeper understanding of it that often made others feel oddly safe around you, as if you truly did have God protecting you.
Funny enough, it reminded Daryl of when his parents would drag him to the southern church, forcing him into the small confession box where he would sit and sob for hours, silently begging for God to come save him.
He could hear you softly murmuring something, but the full words didn't entirely reach his ears. You were kneeling in front of a large moss-covered log, hands clasped together with your head down, looking up every so often. He watched how every time you leaned back, your hair fluttered back and fell back into position.
Not wanting to be creepy, he decided to come out from where he had been hiding, a little taken aback when you seemed to not be bothered, as if you had already known he wasn't any sort of threat.
"Hell ya' doin' out here girl?" Daryl grumbled out, standing a few feet behind you. He watched as you repeated the motion with your head a few more times, eventually pushing yourself up off your knees.
You knocked the gathered leaves and a few bugs off your skirt, smiling at him softly. "Prayer. I come out here every mornin' for it"
He scoffed slightly, glancing down at the ground as he rolled a rock under his shoe. "Why bother? Not like s'gon get heard anyway"
“Yeah? We’ll see. I prayed we find a safe place today” You said as you brushed some hair our your mouth, wind starting to pick up in speed.
Daryl hummed, “Pray we also find some food?” flipping his own hair out his face.
“Of course,” You laughed slightly, airy and light. “But with you out here I think that’ll be answered”
The man scoffed again, this time ducking his head at your words. “Yeah right” He mumbled out.
“I mean it. Look, there’s a squirrel in that tree” You point to a nearby oak tree and Daryl follows your finger, pulling the trigger of his crossbow faster than you could even fathom.
The squirrel hit the ground, Daryl stepped over a few roots and bushes to pick it up, pulling the arrow out and tossing the carcass over his shoulder.
“Good eye girly. C’mon, guess yer God is gon help ya’ help feed us” He glanced at you from over his clear shoulder, motioning for you to follow him with a short nod of the head.
You followed as he walked through the thick mess of bushes, the green leaves staining your cowgirl boots as you stepped on them. The birds chirped loudly above head as the sun got higher and higher in the sky, the air starting to increase in temperature.
It was quite a nice walk through the forest regardless of the heat, Daryl making for much better company than you expected even though he didn't have much to say. You filled the silence by humming softly to yourself, staying a few feet behind and looking around the wooded terrain, keeping an eye out for animals and walkers.
Daryl paused for a moment, holding up a finger and then positioning his crossbow again. The weapon fired, and you watched as it struck another squirrel, this time pinning it against a tree.
He yanked the arrow out, sliding it back into the holder on the front of his bow and tossing the second squirrel over his shoulder.
"Need'ta get at least five," He said as he continued walking, glancing at you again from over his other shoulder just to make sure you were still there.
You scoffed slightly at his words. "Five?" You repeated, staring at the angel wings on the back of his vest.
Daryl nodded, peering up into the trees and looking around on the ground. "Yeah. Got a lotta people to feed"
"And you think five is the lucky number?" You joke lightly, a small smile tugging your lips as you stay hot on his heels.
He shrugged, squirrels bouncing with the motion. "Dunno. Depends on how many ya prayed for"
"Well, if you told me, I would've prayed for at least ten" You appeared at his side and bumped his arm with yours, his gaze meeting yours for only a split second before you were suddenly startled by Rick and Glenn's out-of-nowhere appearances.
They pointed their guns at both of you, and you put your hands up to show you weren't a threat. "Jus' catchin' some breakfast," Daryl said as he dropped his arms and nodded at Glenn in greetings.
"Ready to get some concrete under your feet?" Rick asked him as the four of you began to make your way out of the forest and back to the rest of the group, the day only getting hotter and hotter. "I think it's time."
Daryl hummed, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on his forehead. "That is sweet music to my ears, Officer."
"We take the next road we come to, try to get back to going north 'till we find a vehicle." Rick gestured slightly with his hand, gun still in his grip just in case.
You all stepped up the steep hill leading back to the road where the group had decided to set up a temporary camp for the night.
Rick meet Daryl's eyes, placing a hand on his squirrel-less shoulder. "Good?"
"Good"
"–And Father God, I once again call upon you to ask for a blessing, a miracle, an answer. You've got me so far, this group, I ask, will you continue to do so? Will you bestow us a safe place? A home?"
Back on the road once again. It was hot as the group ventured forward, worn down shoes and boots slapping against the burning pavement as you all conversed amount yourselves and entertained one another, Michonne and Carl in some form of competition while you lingered behind, Daryl nearby just in case a walker somehow nabbed you.
He silently listened to the soft whispering of your voice, the gentle lull you used as you spoke your prayers, walking with your head down and the palms of your hands facing towards the sky, almost reaching out in a sense.
There was a few questions lingering on his tongue, but growing up in the southern church Daryl had learned not to ask questions until after prayer. Hell, he had learned not to ask questions period.
Daryl only watched you out the corner of his eye, your plush lips moving slightly as you murmured. There was just something about you that was captivating, the fact that you were almost a mixture of Beth's sweet and softness, Maggie's stern and stubbornness, it made him curious to know what the third mysterious Greene had to offer.
"Amen" You mumbled a little louder than intended, clasping your hands together as you finished and concluded your prayer. You brushed some hair out your face when you lifted your head, catching a glimpse at Daryl's watchful eye.
He looked away when your gaze met his, furrowing your brow slightly with a small and playful smile. "What?" You appeared closer to his side and purposely bumped into him, watching how he staggered a little in his pace.
"Nothin'. Jus' hot as hell out here" Daryl shrugged slightly, sweat rolling down his face and back.
You hummed softly, "Hell is a lot hotter than this, but it is super hot. Just wish we could find a river or something" fanning your legs with the loose fabric of your skirt.
Daryl glanced at you, eyes dropping the flowing motion of the fabric. "Tryna' go swimmin'?" He questioned, because a dip in the cool river didn't sound that bad at all
"We weren't really allowed growing up, swimsuits were always super revealin' so we just stayed inside most summers" You shrugged, a tiny smile on your lips as you recalled past memories with your sisters, even if it was just sitting inside trashing the kitchen. "We weren't even allowed to wear shorts that didn't stop at the knees"
It made sense, ever since the farm you, Beth, and Maggie had always been more modestly dressed then the rest, never wearing something too short even if it was the only option.
But even then, as long as your skirt as, Daryl still couldn't help himself from picturing the entirety of your bare legs, a shiver coursing through him as he tried to wipe the image away as quickly as it had come. You were sweet, almost too sweet for him. He was damaged and tainted, you were pure and holy.
"My moms used'ta watch me 'nd m'brother when we went to the river behind our house 'cause I ain't know how'ta swim as a kid" Daryl forced himself to say, tearing his eyes away from the dingy fabric and looking anywhere that just wasn't where you were.
Of course, it wasn't it that easy, especially when you giggled at his sentence which almost caused him whiplash from how hard he snapped his neck at you.
"Sorry, sorry. Just– You didn't know how to swim? Even I can swim" You covered your mouth as you spoke through your laughter, cheeks starting to hurt a little from how hard you were smiling.
Daryl scoffed, the sound of your giggles being music to his ears. "Laugh it up girly. Won't be funny when I throw ya' in a river"
You did laugh even harder at that, maybe because you knew it might be true. "It'll be hilarious! Even more because you'll be the one finding me a new outfit"
"Jus' a little water. S'not like yer damn skirt s'gon wash away" Daryl rolled his eyes, watching as you fake a look of offense.
"How do you know that? It just might! Then you'd have to cover me up" You folded your arms over your chest, quirking a brow at the older man as he glanced you up and down.
"Maybe I don' want to" He mumbled with a short shrug of his mouth
"What do you want?" You asked with a small tilt of your head.
Daryl's lips moved way faster then his brain, and he found himself suddenly muttering out "Wanna see wha's under tha' pretty dress"
You stared at him for a little, and he wished he could just bury an arrow in his head now, but then you chuckled a bit, nudging his arm with yours. "That's a sin, Daryl"
The two of you fell silent, your words lingering in Daryl's mind as he focused his gaze down on the floor, his ears perking slightly when they caught the gentle sound of your humming, some kind of song that he had surely never heard before.
He didn't wanna admit that your voice was soothing and melodic, it almost reminded him of his mother when she would cradle his trembling body in her arms, bruised and bloodied as the soft vibrations of her humming buzzed through him, comforting him as he softly sniffled into her chest, clutching onto her shirt and wondering what it was that made him so undeserving of God's–
"Help!"
The scream of terror rang out from the forest to the woods, and you all looked around at each other as your movements halted, everyone turning in the direction they thought the cry had come from with their weapons drawn, you subconsciously inching closer to Daryl for safety.
"Help, anybody! Help!" The cries came again, this time audibly and undeniably from the left side of the trees.
Rick nodded his head, gun drawn and pointed as he dashed off the road and into the forest, the group all following closely behind as the screams and pleads for help didn't cease, getting louder and closer which drew the attention of nearby walkers, having to dodge and take out any that got too close.
"Anyone, help! Help!"
As you all sprinted deeper into the trees, the sound of snarling and clicking teeth began to mix and become more audible, eventually leading the group out into a green clearing where there was a... pastor cowering ontop of a large stone rock, slipping off and making a half-ass attempt at kicking the walkers.
There weren't that many walkers, but it was still enough to where Rick felt firing his gun was necessary. The gunshots rang out through the forest, and you covered your ears at the loud noise, wincing slightly as it bounced around uncomfortably in your head.
Daryl took out the last straggler with a hard stab of his knife, wiping the thick blood off his blade on his pants before he slid it back in his holster, appearing at your side as he analyzed the pained expression on your face.
"Ya' alrigh'?" He murmered softly, hands hovering over your face but not quiet touching it, almost as if he was restraining himself.
You nodded, uncovering your ears and glancing at the pastor on the top of the rock, Daryl and everyone else following your gaze.
He whimpered softly and quietly from where he sat, eyes frantically darting between the all of you as if you all were the threat.
"Come on down." Rick said in a loud, stern voice, taking a few steps forward in front as the group took a few steps back.
The man rolled on his stomach and awkwardly wormed his way down grunting slightly and crying out when he slipped the rest of the way and landed on his ass.
A few giggles erupted from you and Maggie, stifling your laughter in the same way you've both always done by simply turning your heads away from the source of humor.
Rick didn't seem too entertained though, glancing the man up and down when he stumbled to his feet and dusted himself off. "You okay?" He raised a brow, emotion unmoving and flat.
"Sorry. Yes, thank you. I-I'm Gabriel." He stammered out, his lips pulling themselves into a small an nervous smile.
"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick titled his head as he asked condescendingly, taking another step closer to 'Gabriel.'
The man in question chuckled slightly. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?"
"We don't give a rats flying fucking ass what it looks like." Abraham barked out, and you could only nod your head in agreement.
Gabriel mumbled out some kind of understanding before he put on his best brave face. "I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need"
At that you scoffed, covering your mouth in a fake apology. "Oh sorry, just that, didn't really look like God was protecting you now was he?"
Gabriel smiled nervously and awkwardly at your words, his eyes taking in your attire and the sparkly cross around your neck. "Well, he led a woman of your nurture here, so that must mean something right?"
"Oh of course. It means that you have something we want" You spoke softly, yet your tone was oddly dark. It somehow flipped the aura surrounding the group, replacing it with a heavy presence that just couldn't be explained.
"I-I have nothing to offer. Whatever food I- I had left, it just hit the ground." He glanced down at the ruin pile of whatever it was he had.
Carl stepped forward, fishing something out his pocket and holding it out to the pastor. "We've got some pecans, sorry if you're allergic" He partially joked, taking a step back and behind his dad.
Gabriel thanked him, dumping a few into his mouth and chewing. Judith cooed sweetly from where she rested against Beth, the mans eyes softening as he spotted her. "That's a beautiful child," He said, glancing around at just how many of you there were. "D- Do you have a camp?"
"No. Do you?" Rick asked without hesitation.
"I have a church." Gabriel mumbled, and your ears perked up at the sound of that. Daryl also noted the way your face lit up, while his twisted in distain.
Rick stuck his gun in the waist band of his jeans, aggressively grabbing Gabriel. "Hold your hands above your head."
"How many walkers have you killed?" He questioned, roughly patting the man down in search for any weapons.
"Not any, actually." Gabriel answered nervously.
"Turn around." Rick commanded and he spun the man, continuing his thorough search. "How many people have you killed?"
"None." Gabriel said as Rick spun him back around, narrowing sharp, quizzical blue eyes at him.
"Why?" He almost hissed the words out, whispering them out through the skin of his teeth.
Gabriel was silent for a moment, glancing at all of you before back at Rick. "Because the Lord abhors violence."
"We've all done something, we were all born as sinners. Nobody's perfectly pure." You spoke up from where you stood behind Daryl, shaking your head slightly. Daryl could argue with your words that you were the most perfect damn thing he’s seen, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut instead. You were pure and holy, he was damaged and tainted.
He looked at you, slightly taken aback. Rick finished his search by nodding in confirmation that he was clear, taking a step back from Gabriel but not too far.
"I sin almost every day," He murmured out after a moment, scanning you all once more before his lips shifted into another small nervous smile. "But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers."
"You said you had a church?"
You sat outside on the church step with all the other women, plus Gabriel, while all the guys stormed inside to do a thorough search of the building, in search of any weapons or any other people. Although Gabe claimed it was just him and himself, Rick didn't believe him and didn't want to take any risks.
It was quite peaceful, birds chirping above with a slight breeze that brought a little bit of cooling relief from the burning sun. Judith cooed softly in Beth's lap, shaded from the sun courtesy of Carl's hat, too big to properly fit her head but big enough to cover her body.
"I spent months here without stepping out the front door." Gabriel's voice cut through the blissful silence, and you tried not to shoot him an irritated glare. Rick came out first, followed by Daryl and then Glenn. "If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising."
"We found a short bus out back." Rick said, hands on his hips as he squinted from the harsh glare of the sun. “Nothing else besides that. I think we can settle down here for a minute”
“Shit ain’t settled ‘till we get Eugene’s ass to Washington” Abraham’s voice barked from behind the man, Eugene and Rosita following suit.
Daryl stood on the step above yours, and you turned to smile softly at him as his large frame blocked the scorching light of the sun from spilling down onto you.
He scowled in response, but only because he didn't wanna make his cheeks any more red than they already were. He turned his head away and decided to just blame the burning sensation on the Georgia heat.
Rick shrugged his shoulders as he dismissed Abraham. "Yeah, well, people are exhausted. This place has four walls and a roof. Safe. In other words, we're staying here."
"Sounds pretty good to me, I've slept inside a chapel before," You said as you twisted your head to look at Rick, glancing inside the church to get a glimpse at the size inside. "Plus we can all fit in there, so why not? We could even do our own version of 'The Last Supper' but with squirrel meat" You added, gesturing towards the string of squirrels Daryl had managed to catch on the journey here.
"That kinda does sound good" Beth smiled as she bounced Judith on her leg, the thought of eating meat making her really hungry. "And we can have a bonfire! It'll be even better 'cause we won't have to sleep outside after we put it out" She gasped slightly when the idea crossed her mind, sitting up a little straighter as she talked about it.
Maggie smiled softly at the two of you as you both made light of the situation, grateful that you had always been able to see the bright side of things and just simply brush things off, sometimes falling and scraping your knee but getting right back up to walk it off.
Out of the three of them, you had always had a much stronger connection to God even as a child, sometimes walking right out of Sunday school because you claimed the teacher "silenced" his voice. Growing up, you only continued to believe more and more, so much to the point that it almost worried Maggie, like you could always see something that she couldn't.
There were times when she found herself a bit envious of you, especially when you both had reached your teen years, Maggie starting to take a dive at rebellion and you still as perfectly holy as you had been at age five, wardrobe consisting of nothing but your pristine white clothes, and the same faded white cowgirl boots daddy had bought for you a decade ago on Christmas. He had gotten you all a pair to wear around the farm when dealing and riding with the horses, you and Beth wearing yours down to absolute hell.
By the time you were both in your early twenties, petty rivalry put aside years later replaced by constant gossip and the latest guy Maggie was going out with, she realized that there was no reason to envy you, because she didn't wanna be you. You were pure, holy, and kept yourself high within your faith, studying the Bible in a way that she sometimes couldn't even wrap her head around.
"We need supplies, no matter what we do next" Rick spoke up as he glanced around at everyone, watching Beth pass over Judith to you to sit in the shade Daryl provided.
Glenn nodded in agreement. "That's right. Food, water, ammunition, anything we can find"
You quirked a brow at Gabriel, glancing him up and down. "How'd you survive here for so long?"
He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice and stuttered as all eyes landed on him. "W- Well, I had God protecting me"
"No, you didn't. God doesn't protect, he watches" You rolled your eyes at him, as if this wasn't common knowledge.
Gabriel was taken aback by your response, mouth slightly agape as he scrambled to find a different answer. "Our annual canned food drive, things fell apart right after we finished-"
"That's great 'nd all, but Rick, seriously, we're gon' get heatstroke s sittin' out here in the boilin' sun" Maggie cut the man off, fanning herself with both her hands even as she was pressed up against your side, trying to hog the shade that you were already sharing with Beth and Jude.
Carol nodded her head in agreement, also dripping in sweat. "Yeah. You said it was safe, so why aren't we inside yet?" She gestured to the church.
"Alright, alright. Everyone inside. Let's cool off and rest our feet. We can discuss what's next later." Rick nodded and propped the church door open so that the group could easily fit through with all their stuff and guns, loud clattering as these things were dropped on the floor.
You followed after Maggie as she helped Glenn haul a bag inside, holding Judith on your hip as she sucked on her tiny fist. The way you held her almost looked natural, as if she was your very own. Daryl tried to pry his eyes away, but he just couldn't. He was drawn to you in a way he couldn't understand.
It bothered him in a way, the world had ended and you treated every day as if it was just an average day, as if dead people walking around was nothing more but an inconvenience. You were a carefree and buoyant spirit, as if your mind was consistently clear and levelheaded.
But it also intrigued him, how somehow someway in a world plagued with darkness that forces people to be tough and hard, you still manage to be soft and dainty, as if the plague hadn't even touched you once.
There was a combination of walker blood and mud splattered all across your white dress, some of it on your sleeves and your face, yet it didn't make you look any less tender, especially now as you seemed to sit cozily in the nave of the church, bouncing Judith on your leg as you softly hummed her a song.
Inside the church was fairly big, the back of it containing a few large offices that Rick deemed the safest the camp out in for the night, explaining that the doors had locks and that if someone were to break in everyone would hear and have plenty of time to wake up, claiming that everyone could sneak out the back door or just fight if need.
"The food lasted a long time," Gabriel said once the large wooden door creaked shut, other members of the group finding a place to settle down. "And then I started scavenging. I've cleaned out every place nearby, except for one."
"What kept you from it?" Rick questioned.
Gabe shrugged. "It's overrun."
"How many?" Glenn pipped in from against a wall.
Gabriel slightly tilted his head in thought. "A dozen or so? Maybe more."
Rick scoffed, hands on his hips as he stared at the man. "We can handle a dozen."
"Bob and I will go with you," Michonne said calmly as she stepped forward. "Tyreese should stay here, help keep Judith safe."
"That'll be okay?" Rick glanced over to the man in question, who nodded his head.
"You ever need me to watch her, need anything for her, I'm right here" Tyreese said with a small smile.
The corner of Rick's mouth slightly quipped upward in a tiny smirk. "I'm grateful for it."
"I'll draw you a map–" Gabriel spoke up but was quickly cut off, "–You don't need to, you're coming with us." by Rick who shot him down with a cold icy glare.
It caught Gabriel off-guard and made his anxiety go through the roof. "I– I'm not gonna be of any help, you saw me up on that rock, I'm no good around those things." He stammered, trying to plead his case nervously under Rick's burning gaze.
"You're coming with us."
The sun had set long ago, and the inside of the church was lit up with a warm candle ambiance that fueled that lighthearted mood, everyone in the group chattering and laughing with one another for the first time in what felt like years.
"I'd like to propose a toast." Abraham loudly announced over everyone and all conversations ceased as the ginger easily captured all eyes in the room, raising his glass of wine that Gabriel had pulled from his own office.
"When I look around this room... all I can see is survivors." He said, scanning his eyes over the nave and everyone inside. "Each and every damn one of you has earned that title."
Abraham was silent for a moment, giving the room one last glance over before tipping his glass. "To the survivors."
"Survivors! Cheers!" You all said in unison, raising your glasses and clinking it against the person beside you, the church erupting back into its previous laughter as everyone resumed drinking and enjoying the night.
You scooted your way over to Daryl who was sat in a corner, purposely getting in his space and holding out your glass to him. "Survivors." You mumbled, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.
He glanced at you, a faraway expression on his face as he raised his glass to yours, mumbling out a soft,"Survivors" that was only loud enough for the both of you to hear.
"Now," Abraham said out loud once again, all eyes falling on him. "We get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die, and the living will have this world again." He took a swing of his drink, raising his pinky. "And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."
From where Judith sat snuggly in Rick's lap, she cooed and fisted some of his shirts in her small hands.
"Eugene, what's in DC?" The ginger questioned, all eyes now falling on the scientist for the answer.
He took a moment, clearing his throat before he spoke in his usual flat and unwavering tone of voice. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude, that means food, fuel, refuge."
"Restart," Abraham concluded, Eugene giving a short and curt nod at the response. "However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started."
"Save the world for that little one, save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there, who don't got' nothin' left to do except survive." Abraham spoke, his words of encouragement ringing out through the church's walls.
Judith cooed loudly as she squirmed in Rick's lap, and he smiled at her as he readjusted his grip on her tiny torso. "I think she knows what I'm about to say," Rick joked, managing a few laughs from people. "If she's in, then I'm in too."
"We're all in" Carol interjected, smiles spreading across everyone's faces as conversations and laughter began to fill the room again, people started to celebrate by drinking, clapping, and cheering, the energy in the room upbeat and positive. "Let's do it!" Abraham exclaimed, clearly now tipsier than everyone else as he raised his almost empty glass in the air one more time.
The once warm and cozy atmosphere that the church had inside during the earlier activities had been snuffed out long ago, leaving a cold and empty feeling inside the nave.
It wasn't literally cold, or maybe it was just the cigarette that was keeping Daryl warm, taking long drags from the small stick every minute or so. He couldn't be bothered to go all the way outside, and the natural glow of the moon seeping into the room was more than enough.
Plus, it's not like he was alone, considering that you were sitting in the aisle over from him with your head down.
It had been just the two of you in pure silence for about thirty minutes, and Daryl had only been staring at you for twenty. He tried not to, he really did, but it was hard for his eyes to peel away from the way your dress reflected the light, hands neatly folded together in your lap as hair spilled down your shoulders.
Because of the wine from earlier, there was a slight buzz that ran through Daryl's nerves that somehow encouraged him to stop staring and stand, making his way over to where you were sitting.
"Smoking is a sin, and so is interrupting my prayer," You said once he was sat a few inches from you, not even glancing up at him once.
Daryl let out a tiny scoff, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Yeah, well, s'gon fall on deaf ears anyway"
"Do you not believe in God?" You asked as you blinked your eyes, now turning your head to look at him with genuine curiosity etched on your features.
The man shook his head. "Ain't ever believed in no God," he said, pulling another hit and speaking around it. "Hell, ain't ever believed in nobody"
You sighed a little, leaning back against the bench. "God believes in you"
Daryl scoffed a lot louder at that. "Don' even believe in m'self"
"Well, I believe in you," You said with a shrug, scooting a bit closer to him to bump him with your elbow.
He grumbled as he bumped you back, more so pushing as he held his cigarette between his teeth. "Wha' else ya' believe in? Sandy Clause?"
You let out a small giggle at his butchered version of the fictional character. "Santa, and no, I don't. But I do believe that this is the next world though."
"Why? We ain't dead yet" Daryl analyzed you from the corner of his eyes.
You shook your head, "No, we're not. We never have been. Don't you see? This, this is the resurrection" waving your hands around for emphasis.
"I thought everyone was s'pposed ta' disappear or some shit?" He questioned and you rolled your eyes at him. "Oh come on, I thought you didn't believe in stuff like that. Did you also think that Jesus was gonna fly down from the sky and save us all?"
Daryl huffed as he took a long drag, getting more toward the last few puffs of his cigarette as he raised a brow at you. "Ain't that tha' whole point?"
"That's what people want you to think. They always talk about the resurrection and how Jesus will come back from the dead to save humanity from its wrongdoings, which is exactly what's happening now"
"Tha' hell ya' tryna' say, girl?"
"That God has a plan. He wants the world to be pure again, he wants us to be pure again"
At your words, Daryl scoffed, taking a long and final drag of his cigarette. "Well, m'not very pure unlike yerself" He said as he stomped out the butt of the remaining stick, crushing it under a muddy a boot.
"You're tainted, and its okay. No need to be envious of my non-sinning streak" You jokingly said, flipping your hair which got a tiny chuckle out the older man.
"Now I definitely don' believe ya' ain't ever committed no sin" He said, shaking his head.
You had a small smile playing at your lips, shrugging both shoulders as you looked at him. "I mean, technically walkers aren't people, so I don't really think I've killed anyone"
"Steal anythin'?"
"Thou shall not steal, Daryl. Plus, looting stores is only against the law"
"Well, everyone's told a lie"
"Oh, I'd never lie. The truth will set you free"
Daryl frowned at your words. "Yer startin' ta' piss me off, girl"
"I'm just not a sinner, Daryl. I was raised inside a church, so I spent all my time studying the bible and asking God questions." You said with a sigh, thinking back to when you were still a little girl.
"Wha' kinda questions?" Daryl asked, and you turned once again to meet his gaze.
"Well," You started, taking a moment to think before glancing back up at him. "I've always wondered if you commit a sin inside a church, if it still counts as a sin"
"How would ya' know?"
You shrugged. "I don't, I've never really had any sin to commit"
Daryl hummed, eyes flickering down to your plush lips, tracing the shape of them a few times before shifting his gaze back up to meet your eyes. "Lust is a sin"
"Now that's just unholy, Daryl" You scoffed at him, crossing your arms and turning your head away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks, because lust was indeed a sin. "It's extremely important to save yourself for the person you're gonna marry. Sex is an emotional gift"
The man furrowed his brows, "How do ya' know tha' if ya' ain't ever fucked?" suppressing the shiver that ran through him at his own words.
Something dark twisted and turned in his stomach just thinking about the idea that you were just as pure as the day that you were born, and he tried not to think about the wildly dirty things he wanted to do to you that he knew would potentially leave a stain. You had probably never even thought of doing something like that, let alone with someone of his nature.
But you had, and you were right now, nervously and subconsciously squeezing your thighs together the more self-aware you started to feel within the older man's presence, feeling his eyes traveling over the length of your body. "I told you, I studied the bible. Sex is the connection of two people who are bound to one another for life, aka being married of course"
"Sex could also just be sex," Daryl shrugged, his brows unmoving as your words confusingly rang out in his ears. "Ain't much of a difference is there?"
You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Of course there is silly. When you're married, sex is a form of art and beauty, as well as conception. God intends for us to use our bodies as a way to communicate with our partner. Any other time, sex is just a form of escape and pleasure, abusing the gift that God has given us in a sinful way, or as you know, lust"
Daryl hummed as you simplified the words for him in a way that he still didn't necessarily understand, but he just decided to pretend like he did. "Ya' ain't ever go through hormones growin' up?"
"Are you asking if I get horny?" You let out a tiny giggle at how his eyes snapped to yours at the blunt question, his cheeks starting to tint pink as he grumbled and looked away. You laughed and wrapped your hands around his forearm, pulling at the man and trying to get him to look at you. "Don't get embarrassed! Are you?"
Unknowingly, you had instead pulled yourself a lot closer to Daryl, and when he twisted his head back in your direction, you were both face to face, noses almost touching.
Daryl stopped breathing for a few seconds as your doe eyes stared up at him, flickering down to where your fingers gripped what you now realized was his very muscular forearm. Sitting this close to him under his burning blue gaze made you feel a bit small, and made a funny feeling form in your lower stomach.
His own eyes flickered back down to your lips, finding himself using his other hand to brush some hair out of your face, curling his fingers at the back of your hand and cupping your cheek in a big, calloused palm, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Maybe I am"
"This is God's house, Daryl." You muttered in a hushed whisper as you curled your fingers around his arm, trying not to downright melt into the warm touch of his hand.
"Think he's gon' watch us?" He whispered back, and your lower stomach tingled in a way that made your whole core heat up, feeling a mild throbbing sensation coming from your private area as you looked up at the older man, running his thumb over the edge of your jaw.
"I– I don't–" You stammered, shifting your eyes away from his as you found yourself at a loss for words.
"Said ya' always wanted ta' commit a sin inna church, righ'?" Daryl tilted your gaze back to his, stroking your cheek with a gentleness you didn't even know he could muster. "Might as well do the one tha' feels best"
"But I've never done something like this... Will it– Will it hurt?" You said as you searched his eyes, the blue orbs going soft and tender.
"M'not gonna hurt ya' at all sweetheart," He said in a genuine voice, holding your face a little tighter. He couldn't even imagine hurting something as dainty as you, especially not with the way you were looking up at him with curious and innocent eyes. "If anythin' I do hurts, tell me, alrigh'?"
You nodded, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile as it felt like there was an entire butterfly exhibit in your stomach, Daryl learning down into your space and first giving your lips a small peck, before pulling you completely flush by the back of your nape, a shiver running up your spine that went all the way down to your clothed cunt, legs squeezing together as Daryl deepened the kiss, your first and hottest kiss ever.
It made your head light and dizzy, leaving you starstruck and dazed when he pulled away with only a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips, Daryl brushing the skin of your cheek once again as you slowly blinked, still feeling airy from the kiss you just experienced.
"Do that again please" You murmured in a tiny plea, feeling both sets of your lips tingle in excitement at all the new sensations Daryl was showing you.
He pulled you in for a chaste peck, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. "Ya' like tha', pretty girl?" He mumbled the words against you, pressing another kiss to your plush lips and swallowing the tiny moan you let out.
You moved to wrap your arms around the older man's neck, Daryl now taking both his hands and gripping you by your waist, pulling a shocked gasp from you at the way his touch made your cunt ache. He carefully moved you to lay on your back, slotting a thigh between your legs and pressing the denim material against your soaked panties, a noise mixed between embarrassment and need coming from your throat.
It felt so good, and you found yourself trying to rut against Daryl's thigh as he started to kiss and suck at your neck, making you giggle slightly as the skin there was more ticklish than anywhere else. His body was big and warm as it was pressed on top of yours, feeling a pulsating sensation traveling through your nerves as you continued to needily hump his leg, whining softly as you tried to further fuel the feel-good moment you were having.
"Let m'help ya' out doll, jus' leave it all ta' me, gon' make ya feel real good" Daryl spoke the words from the underside of your jaw, kissing his way up to your lips before he leaned back, pulling his thigh back and leaving a hand on your hip, courtesy of your fingers scrambling to curl around his for comfort.
"I'm a bit nervous," You said, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment as you spoke the words. "What if I mess something up?"
"Tha' ain't gon' happen, m'gon do all tha' work fer ya'" Daryl said as his hands moved down to your thighs, lifting and pulling your legs to circle his waist, a shrill shriek tearing out your throat as your dress started to slip down and pool at your waist.
It left your lower half completely exposed, and it was almost an instinct to drop your hands down to cover your panties, a hot blush painting over as Daryl gripped both your hands in one, moving them away and pinning them to your chest. "Nuh'uh, ya' ain't gonna hide from me, pretty girl"
You whined softly as he released your wrists, ducking his head down to kiss and lick your stomach, causing you to jerk from the wet muscle dragging across your skin. His fingers traveled down past the hem of your undies, pushing them midway down your thighs before sitting back up and lifting one of your thighs, yanking the flimsy blue fabric the rest of the way off and stuffing it in his back pocket, pulling you a bit closer as he licked his lips, eyeing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.
You weren't exactly sure what to do with your hands, deciding instead to clench the cross around your neck in one and prop yourself up on the other, all this being so new and different, dirty and sinful, that you couldn't help but wanna watch.
Daryl placed a hand on your hip, the other moving to gather spit on his fingers. "Gotta get ya' stretched out so I don' hurt ya'"'
"Is this part gonna hurt? I've only masturbated once, but I was too scared to actually finger myself" You frowned a little, feeling your nerves spike as it started set really just how inexperienced you were.
Daryl leaned down and placed a soft peck to your lips, dipping his fingers into your cunt gently and rubbing the digits up and down your slit, pressing down against your clit and moving in a circular motion, his actions on the bundle of nerves sending shivers sparking up your spine, letting out a moan that was deep in your throat right against the older man's lips.
He let out a low chuckle, adding a second finger to his movement against your clit. "Doesn' hurt now, does it?"
You shook your head, body tingling in a foreign way that almost made you feel like you had been tased but in a good way, not that you've ever been tased before. The rough pads of his fingertips against your clit drove you absolutely crazy, the faster they moved the more you found your hips jerking down in a clumsy attempt to speed up whatever high it was you were riding right now, feeling better than you ever have in your whole life.
"There ya' go beautiful, c'mon, cum on m'fingers" Daryl murmured the words out, quickening his pace as he could feel your legs twitching around him, your whines and whimpers getting louder and louder. He spread your cunt lips apart more which revealed your raw clit more, a few harsh strokes to the small bud before you were biting down on your bottom lip and letting your head fall back, a shaky, pleased cry tearing out your chest as waves of electricity coursed through your entire nervous system.
Rather than pulling his fingers away, Daryl dragged them back down your now much more sensitive slit, this time slipping a single digit past your tight entrance, the feeling foreign and oddly unique. Daryl's finger was a bit bigger than average, so you could feel there was a slight stretch to your virgin hole.
Daryl could feel it too, as well as the way you experimentally clenched and convulsed around his stilled finger, giving you a few minutes to adjust to the new feeling.
When he began to slowly thrust the digit in and out, curling the tip of his finger each time in search of your sweet spot, carefully watching the way your face twisted and contorted.
"Ya' alrigh'?" He asked, starting to brush his thumb against the skin where he was gripping your hip.
You nodded, involuntarily clenching around him. "Yeah, it just feels really funny, maybe I just had my expectations too high," You said as you furrowed your brows, a bit upset that 'fingering' wasn't all you chalked it up to be.
"First finger ain't much, second one might feel 'bit different" Daryl said as he pulled the digit back, this time pushing back into you with both fingers, the stretch and drag of the two digits feeling agreeably more different than just one.
This time Daryl just kept up his steady pace, continuing to thrust and curl his fingers into your cunt, starting to scissor you further open. Your eyes trailed down to follow the movement of his other hand as he released his grip on your hip, beginning to undo the zipper of his jeans and shoving them halfway down, the first and biggest cock you've ever laid eyes on.
Your jaw went a little slack, scrambling to find words as you felt panic boil in your stomach. "That– That's not gonna fit!"
"Calm down doll, I swear yer'gon be jus' fine" Daryl murmured softly, reaching down to reassuringly press his forehead against yours, so close that your eyelashes were almost touching. "Told ya', m'not gonna hurt ya'. S'probably not gon' feel tha' best at first but it gets better, righ'?"
Taking his words into consideration for a minute, you nodded your head against his and let your eyes flutter shut as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips, followed by another, and then the feeling of his fingers slipping out of you.
It left you feeling oddly empty, but there was excitement building up as you watched Daryl spit on his cock, using it as lube as he dragged it up your already slick slit, pressing the tip into your hole and easily pushing past, the stretch of his cock slowly slipping into you a lot more painful than expected, your hands finding his forearms where he gripped your waist and squeezing them tightly, wincing slightly as you dug your nails into his skin.
Daryl caressed the skin of your waist with his thumb, trying his best to ease the discomfort he could see and knew he was causing you. "I know, I know, s'gon be alrigh' gorgeous, yer' alrigh'" He muttered, pulling his hips back and pushing them forward again, repeating the motion in long, deep strokes.
Whatever his method was, it was definitely working, each drag of his cock against your walls feeling better and better, your cunt only getting wetter and wetter which made it so much easier for Daryl to increase his pace, trying his best to restrain himself from completely plowing into you like he had been craving to do for days, weeks now.
He didn't wanna hurt you or go too rough, this was your first time for crying out loud, a sweet christian girl who hadn't even dipped her own fingers inside herself, and here he was, a grumpy tainted man who had somehow managed to stuff himself balls deep into her pure little pussy, hugging his cock in a warm, velvety hold that he just wanted to absolutely ruin.
He watched the way your eyes fluttered, soft moans coming from you as your face seemed to be pleasantly relaxed, the tight and fearful grip you once had on his arms now reduced to a lazy and content hold, fingers squeezed every once in a while when Daryl's cock would bump a rather sensitive nerve. "That actually feels good" You mumbled as a small smile twitched on your lips.
But Daryl knew how he could make it feel even better, and his restraint to hold back from completely plowing into you had run down to nothing, a sharp grunt leaving his throat when he snapped his hips forward, shoving the entirety of his cock into you suddenly.
You let out a surprised squeak at the action, Daryl's hands planting themselves awkwardly but firmly on the church bench, your own moving to keep yourself steady as he ducked his head down to begin sucking your neck, setting a rough and unforgiving pace.
"Oh my fuuuck" You moaned out in a shaky, pleased breath, fingers curling into the wood and your toes curling in your boots. It's like you were dancing on cloud ten, each hard bump of his tip to your cervix making your mouth practically water, sending bolts of lightning licking up your spine.
Daryl groaned into the skin of your neck, sucking and kissing against your pulse as he got lost in the warmth of your cunt. "Got such a perfect fuckin' pussy, love tha' s'all fer me"
You whined and couldn't help but clench around him at his words, a shudder running through you when you felt him start to speed up, pulling tiny moans out of your chest at every thrust.
Daryl muttered in a husky voice right by your ear, "Feels so fuckin' amazin' doll, so damn tight 'nd wet, might fuck ya' fer hours" grabbing you by the hip and pulling you impossibly further in his lap, driving his cock faster and deeper into your body, nailing your tender sweet spot dead on which caused you to let out a high pitch cry, Daryl muffling your sounds with a slow but sloppy kiss.
He slammed his cock right into the sensitive bundle of nerves, each thrust making you feel dizzy and lightheaded, knocking the air out of your lungs but it felt so good you couldn't even care, eyes starting to roll back when Daryl slid a hand down to roughly finger at your clit, the way he was stimulating your whole cunt making the entire room spin, a shaky, needy sob spilling pat your lips as your whole body was drowning in pulsing and throbbing tingles, Daryl placing another kiss to your lips as he only went faster.
"Ya like tha' huh m'lil sinner? Goin' against everythin' ya' stand fer, feels real good don' it?" He groaned the words out against your lips, and you downright whimpered at his words, heart pounding in your ears as he worked your clit, still ramming in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You couldn't think, and the only word you could muster was a small, broken "D-Daryl"
Your hips jerked down to clumsily grind against his fingers and his cock, needily chasing the building high of your second orgasm as it became difficult to keep your volume at a low, moans starting to tear themselves right out your throat.
Daryl reached an arm underneath your back and flipped you into a sitting position, straddling his lap with his fat cock now one hundred percent of the way buried inside you, so deep that you were convinced for a second that he was in your stomach. You draped your arms over his shoulders and muffled a lewd moan into his neck, the first thrust sending him deeper than ever.
He held you flush against him and bunched your dress up with one hand, and squeezed your hip with the other, letting out breathy, heavy moans of his own as he bounced you in his lap, the tight and slick drag of your raw cunt against his throbbing cock straight up addictive.
"So goddamn wet baby, ya' was saving this wet ass lil' pussy fer me huh, lil' devil?" As the man spoke, he sounded extremely winded, with deep and passionate huffs, you couldn't help but convulse around him at his words, a tiny noise leaving your lips as you clung to him tighter, whining as his hand on your hip pulled you even closer against his pelvis. "Fuck, so fuckin' perfect doll"
Only choked-off moans and whimpers came from you, trying to muffle your sounds into Daryl's neck as his cock shifted angles inside, driving himself right into a soft and squishy spot that made you mewl, the man holding you down as he continued to slam into that spot head-on. His thrusts were fast and unforgiving, fucking your cunt almost as if he hated you, but his grip was tight and protective, holding your body against his like he loved you.
Which he did, but he just didn't know how to say it. His only hope being that you could feel it in the way he fucked into you, hips starting to falter slightly as your tight cunt milked his cock, practically sucking him in and making it impossible for him to ever want to pull out.
From the way you had started to tremble and spasm around him, Daryl could tell that your orgasm was getting closer and closer, encouraging him to quicken his pace. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” He murmured as he moved down to pepper kisses across your cheek.
“Yes! Oh my goodness yes” You moaned as your entire body pulsated, each bump of his tip to your cervix sending you further into bliss. Your arms dropped down and you curled your fingers into his sturdy shoulders for purchase as he relentlessly pounded your twitching pussy, keeping your limp body closely pressed against his.
Daryl could feel the boiling heat of his own orgasm rising in his gut, the wet and warm slide of your cunt against the throbbing pulse of his aching cock pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He hitched your dress up further as he adjusted his grip on you, speeding up his pace even more as he started to chase after his own relief, the squeeze of your soft and squishy walls practically making him drunk.
He groaned as electricity licked and burned through his veins, thoughts flashing and racing through his head. “Let me cum in ya’ doll. Gonna get ya’ nice ‘nd plumped up with a lil’ baby, huh?”
That sent tingles shooting down your spine, clenching down around his thickness at the words each time they rang out in your head. Growing up, all you've ever wanted was to have a sweet little baby of your own, and after unlocking such a world like this you couldn't possibly picture life without Daryl at your side.
"Please, please give me that" You almost whimpered as you trembled against his chest, heart pounding in your chest as a heat burned and built up in your stomach. You jerked your hips and made a clumsy attempt to rut down against him, but he tightened the hold he had on your lower half to stop your movements. "I've got ya' gorgeous, m'gon take care of ya', told ya' m'gon make ya' feel good"
Daryl readjusted his position, moving you to sit up properly and gripping you at the waist, pinning up your dress there as well as he started to bounce you in his lap, downright using your body as a sex toy as he plowed right into your sensitive sweet spot, pulling strained and guttural moans from your chest as you tried your hardest to keep your volume down as to not echo off the church's wall, biting back sobs as your hands found their way to Daryl's chest, fingers curling into the strong flesh as all the digits had a hot buzz to them, lungs suddenly not being able to take in any air as your stomach burned, toes curling in your boots and teeth clenching as a wave of scorching hot pleasure washed over your whole entire body, this time not being able to hold back the loud cry that tore it's way out your throat, uncontrollably convulsing around his cock as he thoroughly fucked you through your orgasm, muffling your pleased moans with a messy kiss.
With the way your now overly sensitive cunt squeezed and roughly gripped his pulsating dick, Daryl wasn't far behind in his orgasm, grunting into your mouth as his hips stuttered inside you, cock twitching eagerly as he pumped his load deep into the warmth of your heat, Daryl slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing it up against yours.
When he pulled away, you were nothing but a puddle of pure jelly, going limp in his grasp as he wrapped a secure arm around your middle, moving to kiss and suck your neck as he covered you back up by dropping your dress, deciding he wanted to stay wrapped inside you a little longer.
"Are you gonna give me my panties back?" You questioned from where you now rested against his shoulder, eyes following the older mans movement as he flicked his lighter, holding the flame up to a new cigarette.
The tip burned red as he took the first and long drag, blowing the smoke up in the air and holding the cigarette away from you by stretching his arms across the bench, humming softly as if taking a moment to think. "Nah"
You pulled back from his chest and gawked at him. "No? There'll be a sticky mess between my legs in the morning!"
He smirked at you, showing a sliver of his porcelain teeth as he did. "Tha's the point, lil' sinner, yer gonna be feelin' me fer days"
The nickname made you blush, turning your head away from the man as you also considered his words, a part of you wanted to feel and experience it all over again, almost arguably a divine slice of heaven itself, and you wanted to taste it once again.
"Well you should never commit a sin twice" You mumbled instead of your real thoughts, cheeks now starting to heat up from embarrassment and a bit of shame, Daryl's cock still buried inside you as a reminder of what you had just done, a reminder that the purity and sacrality you had been preserving for your future man had been completely stripped by another.
Unless, Daryl was your future man, clenching down around him as he took another drag of his cigarette, placing a hand back over your now-covered hip, traveling up to your waist, and squeezing the flesh there. He wasn't the God-fearing, clear-minded, faithful man you had dreamed about as a little girl. Still, he was the strong, protective, and leaderful man that you had dreamed about as a young woman, the man you dreamed of to provide for you and the home you built for another, to protect and preserve the family he's made.
His hand grazed your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek and tracing over the shape of your lips. With his gentle and soft touch, you could feel each blister and callous formed on his hands, the rough feeling of hard work against your skin causing goosebumps.
"Somethin' bad gon' happen ta' us?" He questioned, talking around an exhale of smoke as he did.
"We'll go to hell, Daryl!" You rolled your eyes at him.
He lazily shrugged a shoulder, staring at you with searching eyes. "We'll go together"
Your mouth gaped at his words, stammering as you struggled to find your own. "W– Well I'd much rather prefer we go to heaven together"
"They not gon' let me in" Daryl scoffed slightly as he spoke.
"Not when you commit sins like lust, Mr. Tainted" You flicked his forehead, and he grumbled swatting your hand away, rubbing the reddening skin.
"Ain't my fault, Mrs. Holy, yer' dress leaves little ta' tha' imagination" He muttered, and your eyes widened at his words.
"Are you– My dress goes to my flipping ankles!" You picked up some of the pooled dingy fabric, tugging on it for emphasis.
Daryl shrugged again at that, his eyes now traveling the length of your body where you sat still in his lap. "Don' matter, ever since I saw tha' pretty lil' face I've wanted ta' see the rest of ya', 'nd I ain't disappointed"
You scoffed in disbelief, turning your head in an attempt to hide the heat rising to your face, speaking in a hushed whisper. "My gosh, you speak such foul words in such a sacred place"
"We jus' fucked" Daryl said bluntly, taking another drag from his cigarette as he watched you snap your neck back to him, mouth slightly agape as you scrambled for words. "Y– Yes. But, that doesn't mean you have to talk like that in God's house"
At that, Daryl's cock twitched inside you, a smirk taking over his lips "Ya' said tha' same thing before m'tongue was down yer' throat"
"Daryl!" You hissed, the man chuckling as he gripped your hip and moved to kiss at your already marked-up neck, the weight of your faith starting to weigh heavy as you felt Daryl's cock hardening to life against your walls. "Fornication is straight up breaking the laws of God. We can't– I can't do this again"
The smell of cigarettes and sex painted the church air as you planted both hands on Daryl's chest, pushing yourself up and slowly off his dick with a restrained groan, turning into a sharp gasp when the elder pulled you back down, flush against him.
"Think fornica-whatever s'allot more than jus' sex, 'cause I don' have a problem makin' ya' mines" Daryl mumbled the words into your hair, holding you to his chest with one arm and stubbing out his cigarette in the wooden bench with the other. "God can't stop me from wantin' ya', can he?"
"He can, if you don't truly want me" You muttered into his shirt, and could feel the rumble of his short laughter through his stomach. "'S'good tha' I've wanted ya' fer a while then"
You sighed as you pushed yourself up to meet his gaze, eyes sharp and focused on yours as you moved. "It's more than just want, marriage is a life-long commitment, spiritual and eternal, it's about your faithfulness and loyalty to the person you love, the person you wanna become one body with, share your body with. That's why it's important to save yourself for marriage, to keep yourself pure and clean for the one you want to share it with"
"Aren't we one righ' now?"
"I– I mean– yes, but n– not in the way God intended for us to be–"
"–Why? 'Cause we ain't married? Pretty stupid if yer' askin' me"
He took your left hand in his, bring it up to his lips and placing soft kisses on your delicate fingers, lips lingering against your ring finger.
"Don' need no God ta' tell m'tha' I do or don' love ya', 'cause I know I do, dammit woman, loved ya' since I met ya' on yer' daddy's farm" Daryl scoffed as he finally spoke his feelings into the air, listening to himself and how ridiculous he sounded.
You listened intently, staring at him with glossy eyes as he spoke, your lips twitching and tugging into a tiny smile.
A provider, a protector, a man, a real man, was what Daryl Dixon was, the type of man that you thought could only ever exist in your head and bible, yet here he was, clinging to you and holding you close to him, pressed tightly against and in you, so tight that it felt like you'd just melt right into him at any second, his heart beating erratically in his chest, so much that you could feel it against the beat of your own heart.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You whispered, watching how Daryl's eyes shifted away from yours in the embarrassed way that they always did. "Tell me!"
The man grumbled as you grabbed his face and shook his head, forcing his gaze back on you as he pulled your hands away with his, dropping them down to his chest and holding them there. "I didn' think ya'd want someone like me"
"What? Someone unholy?" You tilted your head slightly at him.
He shook his head, fingers squeezing your wrists. "Someone damaged"
"Damaged? You aren't damaged, Daryl. You're just tainted" You furrowed your brows, frowning slightly at his words.
"Ya' always say tha'" He mumbled, and you sighed. "Because there's no other way for me to put it. You're just a corrupted soul, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person"
He stared at you, licking his lips as he looked at your own, his cock twitching back to life again. "Even if I wanna corrupt ya' too?"
"And how exactly would you do that?" You laughed, but couldn't ignore the heat starting to pool in your gut, feeling a familiar buzz in your fingertips as Daryl ran his hands up your thigh, bunching the fabric of your dress all the up past your tits, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the cold air hit them, the older man pulling you close and popping one of your tender nipples into his mouth, rocking his hips to full hardness. "M'gonna slut ya' out, pretty girl. Gonna turn ya' into my sweet lil' sinner, a little holy fuckdoll"
"I'm not a sex toy" You whined as he dragged his tongue across your boobs, involuntarily clenching around him as you tried to defend yourself, but Daryl laughed lowly as he trailed his lips up to the skin of your neck, kissing his way up to your ear and taking the lobe between his teeth. "Not yet, gorgeous, not yet"
GUYS. GUYS I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS I SWEAR.
I can't believe its done??? I've snipped so many snippets, cut so much out, stared at it for so long, and now its done (after a few decades) so I hope that everyone who I hyped up for this fic was satisfied and it was everything that I had made it out to be
Anyways this fic wouldn't have even existed without @tylermaxxine the local instigator and chronic coffee chugger
#norman fucking reedus#divider by benkeibear#the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#twd#twd daryl#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead tv show#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead daryl dixon#daryl dixon#daryl x reader#daryl dixion imagine#daryl fanfiction#daryl twd#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl imagines#daryl x y/n
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im so deep in the dungeon meshi sludge man. im having those late night thoughts you should NOT listen to yknow? but im finding more and more parallels between myself and laios and Bro. I Dont Want That.
not because i hate him, i love that guy. hes so sweet and good and silly. but like. real talk. the way fandom treats him drives me insane and i think its BECAUSE of his relatability.
fans treat laios like hes dumb. "he doesnt know what sex is! hes so oblivious to everything around him! hes a drop out! hes a baby!" My Brother In Christ, he is a biologist. hes explicitly talks about the possible mating habits of living armor. the way he tied thistle to his back definitely aint the way you tie a christmas ham if you know what im saying. he dropped out - not because hes stupid - but because he didnt have the correct accomadations and honestly pretty dogshit coping mechanisms.
does he have trouble with recognizing the feelings of people around him? absolutely! but that doesnt make him dumb!! hes constantly shown to be able to think on his feet and come up with clever solutions to the problems he and the party faces. hes impulsive and doesnt think things through all the time, sure (eating raw parasite for example) but it geniunely pisses me off that people immedietly write off all the intelligent decisions he makes beyond that.
being a drop out doesnt make you stupid. being bad at talking doesnt make you stupid. needing help in certain aspects of your life (in laios' case, social skills) does not make you stupid. its something that i have to tell myself too often and seeing the fandom fall into the same unconcious cruelty of believing someone to be stupid against all contrary evidence is. idk. disheartening i guess. but also maddening.
on a lighter note, i dont think laios is a monsterfucker. hes just a furry. i will not be taking questions.
#ryoko kui made a character too realistic and im having a bad time#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi#laios touden#is this a vent?#im gonna say its a vent
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Apparently Rollo only eats grapes and two croissants for lunch and i've noticed it MIGHT be une référence à la sainte cène because croissants can kind be compared to bread ig (ils ont bien appelé ça un pain dans le jeu after all même si ct une hérésie de dire ça TOT) and grapes to wine? And yeah idk if that was really supposed to be a reference but i wanted to share my silly little thoughts with u bc u like Rollo and i was curious what you might think abt this
Ok first of, Rollo, dear that's a dogshit lunch. Truly...
Now that this is out, I like both takes ! since Rollo refers to croissants as......Bread (it's a pain for me to even write this ) .... It could totally be wine and bread representation (not necessarily the sainte cène though since this mf eats by himself) as a parallel to og Frollo being super religious. It could've been bread in the twisted world, it coul'd have but I went back to the event in the archives and well..
Azul absolutely describes it like a regular croissant and refers to it as pastry....
So either Azul got it wrong (he'd never dare) or Rollo is one of those guys you would get into an argument about wether a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable. (Or the english translators kept this in and huh ?? hello croissants can be found in many bakeries internationally nowadays surely they know it's a pastry ??? aie aie aie....) Would've loved to see local foods or traditions slightly different because it's in twisted wonderland, Like the harveston clothings had many cultures pieced together !! Sami clothing is incorporated iirc ?? (though croissant being considered bread is truly a sacrilège) And bonne journée/soirée to you both ! :)
#Rollo flamme#get this man oatmeal !! he can put grapes 'n other fruits in it if he wants#café au lait is acceptable#there's not even like... proteines in that meal ?? idk man get a jambon beurre sandwich or at least add cheese or tofu to your lunch#I personnaly hate sandwiches though... the bread/filling ratio is inegal and it's just not satisfying to eat#certified sandwich hater here
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Original (Elastic Droid X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Youtubers
Requested: Day 21 of Writing Inktober prompts instead of drawing!
Warnings: Language lol
POV: Second Person (You/your)
W.C. 501
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
Writing Inktober 2024 Materlist
~~(^Pinterest)
“I’m telling you, Heath Ledger Joker is god tier,” Droid and Puffer argued over the discord call. You assumed it was Puffer at least because you were sat off to the side watching them play Mario Party while drunk after Grizzy’s birthday dinner. “He’s the best joker of all time.”
“I beg to differ,” You muttered, taking a sip of your water with a smirk when Droid’s head snapped to you.
“What the fuck!?” He shouted, gesturing to you to come on the camera. “Tell the audience why you have such dogshit opinions.”
“It’s not dogshit to say that I don’t think Heath Ledger was the best joker,” You laughed in disbelief as you sat on his lap and unplugged his headphones, so you could hear the other guys.
“Wrong,” Puffer said immediately, “Heath Ledger as Joker is the GOAT.”
“It was not even memorable to me,” Grizzy tried to say but got cut off by everyone.
“Listen guys, Heath Ledger’s Joker was good, don’t get me wrong, but it was too dark for what the character is,” You explained. “I just always think the best is the original.’
“What’s next? You’re gonna say Christian Bale was the best Batman?” Droid asked in disbelief.
“No, god no,” You cringed, turning to look at Droid. “What part of ‘I think the best is the original” do you not understand?”
“Ew, so you think whatever his name is -is the best Batman and Joker? That’s crazy,” Droid laughed.
“First off, what’s with the ew?” You asked, glaring at him. “Second, it’s Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson, you uncultured swine!”
“I agree Michael Keaton was a good Batman!” Grizzy shouted. “Thank you, Grizzy!” You shouted back as you leaned into the microphone. “You guys can’t talk shit if you’ve never seen the OGs. The OGs build this company!”
“But Heath Ledger put it on the map!” Droid argued back, pulling you back into his chest.
“Don’t EVER say that again,” You jokingly threatened before leaning toward Droid’s ear, “I’m not talking shit on your boy, so don’t talk shit on mine.”
“Sounds like you’re talking shit,” He whispered back with a smirk.
“No, I’m admitting that Heath Ledger was good, but you’re not even mentioning Michael Keaton or Jack Nicholson,” You pointed out.
“I need to watch the originals,” He admitted.
“Good to know you finally see some sense,” You joked as you left a kiss below his ear before leaning back and taking to the rest, “So I’m making Droid watch the original Batman if y'all wanna join. Not tonight, but like tomorrow or something. Not when you’re drunk.”
“I might be hungover, but I can do tomorrow,” Grizzy answered after a beat.
“You’re gonna be hungover, no maybe about it,” Puffer laughed loudly, “If it’s later, then yeah I’m down.”
“Are we streaming it?” Pezzy asked.
“I wasn’t planning on it, but if y'all are that desperate for content, “ You teased.
“Shut the fuck up,” Droid laughed. “Free content is free content.”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
#elastic droid x reader#writing inktober 2024#bad268#elasticdroid x reader#elastic droid#elasticdroid#youtuber oneshot#youtube#ship268#thing268
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ok but an ask on my rp blog got me thinking. what would stede and ed think the other's biggest flaws are? I think there's a tendency in fandom to sort of "soulmate" them, which makes sense. who wants to see our two beloved guys fight like a realistic couple? (I mean obviously there's still plenty of Big Dramatic Fights in fanfic, but like, outside of that).
here's some preliminary thoughts (I'm not super attached to these hcs so feel free to fight me lol): for stede, I think he wouldn't like ed's tendency to give up the second things start being difficult for him. I imagine ed is gonna be working on this one in retirement, now that he's not doing the thing he's gotten so good at anymore, but he's not perfect and breaking that habit will probably take work. TO BE CLEAR this isn't a "haHa eD's sO adHd hE cAn'T sTiCk tO aNytHiNg hArhaR" thing, this is more about how ed's never had the option to fail until now. his whole life has been succeed-or-die, so failure would reasonably scare him. stede would definitely push him to keep trying past that initial "oh crap oh shit I suck dogshit at this and could never possibly be good" phase everyone goes through when learning something new.
as for what ed thinks stede's biggest flaw is... fuck this is hard. ok, like, let's list stede's flaws. stede can be brazen and rude and bitchy, but never to ed, and often for ed, so ed would love that. stede has self-esteem issues. ed can probably relate to that and it wouldn't bother him if stede needed some extra re-assurance because ed needs it too. stede can be selfish/have trouble understanding others' wants and needs. so far we've never seen him have any trouble at all not being selfish with ed. on a longer timescale I bet it'll happen, but I don't feel super confident definitively saying that's it.
I don't like leaving posts unfinished but this isn't an essay I'm writing for school and I've thought about it for long enough now that I don't think I'm coming up with an answer anytime soon, so hit me with your thoughts!
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💀Ok not to engage in music discourse about Ghost of all freakin things
But eh it's still about art, I have 2 cents. Here's the deal, gatekeeping what good and bad art is, to me, is way more cringeworthy and unnecessary than whatever "ipad kid who listens to ghost and thinks it's REAL metal". Like y'all smell bad, if this is what comes out of your mouth on the regular. Respectfully.
I have listened to 5 Ghost songs so maybe I'm not an expert but their music is literally a vibe. Psychedelic metal fucks so severely what is wrong with y'all. I don't dictate what is or isn't metal, but I'm a huge fan of power metal, as people call it. That said I still enjoy Amaranthe, who is more pop-metal. I don't believe their music is bad just because it's pop. And I don't feel the need to stick to the "good genres" instead of the "bad" ones. I like what I like, particularly songs that have a story in them. Ghost has at least 5 of these lil guys.
If that story is told "badly" or not is irrelevant to me. I can enjoy a "bad" drawing just as much as a "good" one. Cause to me, it's not about that. Yes, there is something to be said about all the work one has to put in, in order to make art "good". For sure. I've put in gallons of sweat, blood and tears, I get it's hard. But similar to my art, I'm sure Ghost's members individually put a lot of effort into their art pieces. Yes, the music itself is still not something I listen to everyday but I can appreciate it from time to time.
Because I find it's more valuable to find something to enjoy about all manner of art, ipad kid metal included. You can be a hater. That's fine. But for the rest, I'd like to ask for a minute where you consider why it's socially acceptable to call art "bad" instead of just owning that you're a hater. Why not say "oof I hate this", why does it have to be BAD before you hate it?
Tldr: I don't think any type of art can ever truly be BAD, but you're allowed to not like it. Just please take ownership of your feelings and be honest, you don't need a reason to not like something. Just like, you don't need a reason to like something.
But if it's about art, I suggest working hard to get on the artist's level before you judge them so severely, like damn. I for one will judge Picasso's fuckshit awful art, his classical pieces are literal dogshit. He did not surpass Raphael, I think he was too busy preying on minors for those alleged 4 years, and I wish I could shove the The School of Athens up his mold infested asshole. And I'm confident I can grab any Raphael-apparently-level art piece of his and paint it better. I'm such a hater, I hope my hate for his art is on my tombstone in writing one day. And I don't have to separate the art from the artist if I hate both✨
#my tism is showing but im not on the spectrum the spectrum is on me ok#i hyperfixated now im tired bye#rambling#text
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Who is your favourite slasher? Can you write a few hcs of them? (Can be band au)
(I'm writing this at like 3 am so ey, grammar mistakes on the way probs)
Og Michael was extremely close
(if we're talking dbd then it's ghostie no questions asked)
BUT JESSE ON GOD 🙏🏻
What can I say, I'm a sucker for horror villains with a cool design and who's movie is flops at good ratings. Also especially in the band au. Also Also because he's confirmed to be mute since not sure if Vincent can't actually talk or just has damaged vocals so he sounds like shit (which now you'll see by a headcanons which I will throw in here haha) or Michael who if I'm not wrong does have a healthy voice but is mute voluntarily.
Anyways.
Headcanons with Bon
Jesse takes takes care of his head VERY seriously. He polishs it and sprays stuff on it to make it shiny. It was once so shiny infact, in one of his concerts with Asa, the lights from the stage made it look like he was ascending. (He was actually not, just his head was polished so good it hit the lights so well.)
Vincent is actually able to talk, but due to his damaged vocal cords he sounds a bit rough. Which is perfect for when he's growling for songs! Makes them extra authentic. (Atleast that's what Lester says. We love a supportive sibling. 😌)
Bo LOVES playing the piano since he was a kid, once even played it at a concert. But his skills are a bit, how do i say this in the most respectable of ways, dogshit. A lot of people thought it was funny bit, and all the fan girls ofcourse were cheering him on! Complimenting how beautiful his playing is, that it's from GOD, that they DIE to hear it everyday and some even wishing they WERE THE PIANO. Safe to say, Bo's ego rose even more from that day.
Billy likes to copy Brahms British accent. Who doesn't like trying to put on a British accent? He does it A LOT on interviews, especially if he has to say water.
Asa likes commenting on people's pictures of their pet bugs. Once he got in an argument with another guy online about if spiders can have wings or not. Asa thought that such spiders don't exist. He was correct since then it was found out that the picture with the spider with wings was a hoax. (BTW real occurrence that happened) (The spider picture I mean not the goofy ass argument.)
This is going to be all for today since my brain is very VERY tired. Gonna make more content soon.
Bon signing out
#slasher#slasher band au#writing#headcanons#text#i fucking hate high school#arksunderside please come back
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I will never not fucking hate this take with all my fiber being. The take of “In order to criticize media, you must make said media first on your own, otherwise your words are useless”, like how people have told me “You think you can do better? Go make your own show!”. Like….PLEASE shut the fuck up, whoever has this mindset needs to wake up and get their heads out of their entitled asses. The worst part is that that’s not the worst take here. The other one is the one I hate the most, the “You have to acknowledge and appreciate the HARD work that went into making this you don’t understand!”
I am so….fucking tired of this toxic ass outlook on how we have to suck up to said media and “appreciate” the hard work that went into it, as if that’s automatically going to make our critiques MAGICALLY go away. Like yeah, you made a movie, yeah, you animated something, yeah, you wrote a book, good for you, I’m happy, but since when did working hard on something automatically mean you’re above criticism??? You learn this shit in fucking school. If you worked hard on an essay yet didn’t do well, you working hard doesn’t automatically mean that the teacher can’t criticize your work. You working hard on a test doesn’t automatically mean that the teacher will let you off the hook for screwing the answers up. People can improve, people can ALWAYS work to be better. People can give credit where credit is due, but that doesn’t erase anything else. These people are fucking clowns and so is Vivziepop, because she liked this tweet and SHE HERSELF has flat out said she feels this way before:
“I can take criticism” my fucking ass. 💀
Like….Viv, I don’t know what to tell you this but I’m not going to suck your dick and praise you for creating an indie animated project and push aside all of the issues I have with your writing solely because of the fact. You created an indie pilot. Cool beans. Good for you. Yes, the Hazbin pilot had talent and passion poured into it. Yes, the Hazbin pilot had effort put in, yes, ALL of your projects have effort put in it and it’s amazing how successful and famous you are, but nobody should have to stroke someone’s ego just because they worked hard and made something big. Disney’s Frozen was a huge and successful hit but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give it a pass and magically ignore all the issues I have with it. At the end of the day Viv’s writing is still dogshit and I’m not going to ignore it just because “she worked hard”. Like…genuinely I need people who have this mindset to grow the fuck up, get out of their diapers and stop acting like toddlers who need their hand to be held and act like they deserve to be praised nonstop.
Like………Imagine if one day Steven Spielberg just came out and went “Hey guys I was a huge inspiration of your childhood and a very successful man who directed smash hit movies that changed the entrainment industry for the better so that automatically means you can’t criticize me or ANY of my movies, only praise please because I worked so hard!” It just doesn’t fucking work like that.
#CLOWNS 🤡🤡🤡#vivziepop critical#spindlehorse critical#helluva boss critical#hazbin hotel critical#helluva boss critique#anti vivziepop#helluva boss criticism#helluva critical#rant#criticisms#critique#critical#feedback
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So a review on Helluva boss So2 ep 6
Ok so gonna break this review down into positives and negatives with my additional thoughts.
Positives:
So always start off with this, big props and love to the animation team we know know and see your struggle working under Vivienne and animating her over-complicated designs. Props to the BG team really stunning backgrounds, was actually a bit over the top for me (Ozzie's palace and especially the dildo factory shit was moving way too fast) but did pause to have a look at the BGs it is really pretty, the shit pacing made everything a visual blur tho.
VA work stunning love always a joy to hear Alex and James in any VA work tho Fizz's song was eyyy not the best but don't blame Alex it was a shittly written song in general especially when it went to the heavy metal part, overstimulating af and again shit pacing during the song and the flashing visuals gave me a headache. Striker's new VA, Ed's voice really grew on me he should've been Striker in the 1st place because I know for a fact Norman couldn't reprise his role for future episodes.
I loved Ozzie and Fizz's relationship especially the end scene where you can see Ozzie development or got hold of the best technology to give Fizz functional limbs, was a tender scene their relationship and interactions made me smile. I'll give Viv 1 ty for not fucking up their relationship, ty Viv (I can be nice to her :). Tho 1 scene that bothered me... the 12 sec Ozzie dong scene 💀 my soul it was just so jarring especially with the fast pacing. Felt like a race car coming to an immediate stop then speeding off again. Would've like the scene replaced with Fizz telling Bliz something nice about Ozzie, why Fizz likes him. I'm tired of queer couples/pairings in this show describing their partner in 2 ways, 1. how good they are in bed or 2. they got x anatomy that's amazing. But its Viv writing this ep, sigh her and her damn middle school sex jokes I'll let it slide.
Now negatives:
I said it before I'll say it for all eternity, the pacing was dogshit bad oh my soul wtf... Viv, Adam whoever I know you guys don't listen to criticism but if any criticism you take fix your damn pacing 😑. I had to pause multiple times just to see what has happening, what was said, what this paper/sign etc said. It was bad, and that paired with the overdetailed BGs and character designs, for the 1st time ever I got overstimulted from a HB ep and had to take a 5 min break to rest my eyes (was by Fizz's song). Its a noisey spinning kaleidoscope this ep, so unpleasant and its all pacing. Stay on certain scenes a bit longer and allow the audience to take in the scene before them (that flackback scene) its makes a difference. If you get overwhelmed/overstimlated ect by such visuals I recommend watching the leaked episode its much better in terms of pacing since its mostly storyboards and there is no color, plus its just the VAs talking with no background music and zero to minimal sound effects.
I didn't care for Crimson in this episode, I know he became Viv's favorite 😒 but seeing this fucker back so soon, it wasn't enjoyable, especially since the only reason he's in this ep is for a "big score" 😑. Also I'm tired of this over convenient plots, Fizz so happened to be in the greed ring and so happened to run into Blitz and Striker so happened to be in greed meeting with Crim who need a man for a "big score" AND SO HAPPENED Striker sees Fizz/Blitz fighting outside the window 🙃. Its all too convenient for me it takes me out and I then think how the plot coming together is ridiculous.
Striker is so under utilized. Since Viv hates him (confirmed by sources I can't pull now apologies) and she wrote this episode, everything established of Striker in So1 is destroyed. He's a husk of his intended character, all talk no show, a misogynistic clown who you can see Viv has no care writing him properly because she doesn't like him which is fucking horrible, this woman will butcher an integral villian, one with a good motivation (he hates blue-bloods) all because "oh I don't like him he's not in my fav OC list", petty af.
Fizz's disability and how its handled, spoke about it in this post:
It still remains the same though now we see it wasn't Wally holding the cake just some other imp and the card Bliz made for Fizz was a love confession still doesn't justify his reaction shoving the imp and his still underlying jealousy of Fizz since they were young. Yes it was backing off from a love confession/ashamed he's not as good a performer as Fizz, Blitz was jealous of Fizz. Made another post saying how I like how Fizz sees his disability, he's content, happy, has Ozzie who understands him and even made/went out his way to get Fizz the best prosthetics to better his quality of life, I like that good on Fizzy :).
5. Going to be a separate long post on (ಠ_ಠ) Blitz, THE FUCKING BIRD IS BACK 💀💀💀 why your rotisserie chicken ass not in hospital or we just skipping past that and how Viv keeps I'm gonna say it, forcing her characters to have daddy issues by writing this fucking irritating basic fanfic trope of killing the mother offscreen/not having the mother in the picture/us seeing her face. A commenter pointed this out and it irritates me because its the 3rd time she does this, she show Tilla (Blitz's mom) in pictures, you think there would be an episode revolving around Blitz's childhood etc but no she's "in" a fast paced pitty party flashback. This woman really can't show an ounce of respect to any female characters.
This is all for now, will be making more posts the more this ep settles in.
Score: 4.7/10
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I sent an ask responding to the Izuku parts that I hope you got.(if not fml)
But I figured I should send a separate ask to talk about Miguel.
So like my thoughts have been centering on this scenario where you're his secretary or assistant because he is the CEO. He's a beta and you're an omega.
You guys have a purely professional relationship, tbh half the time he doesnt even realize you got you're heat and just finds out you called in when you dont respond. Really the only thing he cares about is you doing your work, getting it done on time, and not half-assing it.
But then he gets the spider DNA and everything goes to shit. Not only does the spider DNA give him extra abilities and enhanced senses, but it also gives him some alpha traits/tendencies.
He goes in to work thinking it'll help distract him and get him back in the rhythm of everything only to just get fucking hit in the face with your scent. Queue him rushing past because it takes everything in him not to just pounce on you.
But as I said, he only got a few alpha traits. He didnt actually become an alpha. So while he's out here wanting to just pin you to his or your desk, knot and claim you....he's completely incapable. His body is completely incapable of performing those actions and it only leans into his yandere behavior and tendencies.
I've also been think like(depending on how one writes abo), sometimes betas dont have a sent or if they do its extremely faint. Yandere beta miguel who cant even smother you in his scent because he basically doesn't have one, meanwhile you dont even realize he's changed at all because you cant smell it.
Though because he doesnt have a scent he would absolutely sneak into your house/appartment. Its basically the only upside in his eyes.
Also anytime you go into heat and have to miss work? He is immediately taking your seat from your desk and huffing it while he touches himself. Then at night as spiderman will come just close enough to be able to smell you but still not lose control of himself, absolutely getting off on your scent and sounds of pleasure from you using a toy.
God this shits been living in my brain rent free for like the last week and wont go away 😭
I got the Izuku ask :) trust me when I say I am simply dogshit awful at getting back to people and being consistent
Picture if Reader is actually a really competent employee of his at Alchemax but Miguel like BARELY pays any mind to you because, you know, he's got all sorts of shit constantly stressing him out and occupying his mind on top of migraine, and suddenly you're going into work and bringing him his preferred coffee as usual when, he tries to make small talk? You've worked for this man for like at least a year, basically only speaking when necessary, and one day you lean over to put a coffee or some papers on his desk and that brings you just close enough for him to take in a breath of your scent which instantly helps alleviate his headaches
You're basically done giving him what he needs and you're literally about to leave the room when he suddenly calls out (almost in a "wait I need to catch you before you leave" kind of urgency) and you pause and look at him with those big eyes of yours he suddenly can't stop staring into when Romeo hits you with "so .... how are you?"
And you're just kind of stunned for a few moments because this is a man who basically doesn't speak to you unless he needs something, even when you go to him to pass along a message or something or other about his schedule and your secretarial duties it's typically just a sort of "got it, thank you" sort of response and you're sent on your way again, or given another task, so in ao forth. You basically can't get a good read on the man's personality because he simply doesn't talk to you enough or at least about anything other than work
He officially enters the Goo Goo Eyes Zone where when you like someone almost everything about them is so cute and had more meaning than it actually does and is basically finally seeing you for the first time. He FINALLY notices what kinds of perfumes/body mists you like to use to smell nice even if it's something you've worn for ages, the ways you prefer to style yourself, which little accessories or rings or whatever may be your favorite, little mannerisms you may have like clicking pens or singing little songs when you think you're along, like when you're doing something and it's you're just like occasionally singing, like he finds you washing a coffee cup in the break room all "--and its doooOooone!"
The need to learn more about you escalates because suddenly he's like "wait I've known them for all this time and never noticed all these things, what ELSE don't I know?" And it really is an obsessive infatuation. You live in a high rise where you don't really have to worry about closing your blinds or anything which is perfect for Miguel "don't you know i have enhanced senses" O'Hara to watch you from the roof of the next building over. You never lock your windows because, what's the point? He starts learning your schedule and meticulously taking all kinds of notes until it's the level of him outright entering your apartment to snoop through all of your things and potentially plant bugs and cameras
One day you're opening your window and kind of poke your head out to look at the city and you notice weird sorts of, almost gouges in the wall outside? What are those from? (Well sweetie, turns out, when you were going to town on yourself last night to relieve a little stress, he was the equivalent of like 10 feet away, clinging to your building, listening to and potentially recording every little gasp and finger flick)
But he gets SO frustrated when you're, you know polite, but, not exactly as receptive as he's hoped? When in reality he's still being awkward as fuck and you're still kind of adjusting to him paying attention to you, and it probably feels good to have him seemingly recognizing your efforts but like, you don't wanna. date him??? At least not so suddenly or anything, so he's trying to court you, but, it's becoming harder and harder to be around you at all, let alone when your heats start coming up. He could never tell before that your scent starts changing when That Time is coming around, gradually shifting and becoming something he finds differently hypnotic, something that makes him want to bury his nose in your neck while also, being buried in you period
He'll grow the balls to be more direct with you eventually, but he justifies everything by telling himself he just wants to get to know more about you, and that the stalking is just him trying to get to know you a little more, so when he sees you face to face he can win you over and make you his mate treat you better, obviously! He'll... he'll ask you out to dinner next week, he promises! But for now, he's just gonna, stay right here perched under your window, seeing and hearing and smelling everything
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only fools rush in
Summary: After a custodial interview with Vincent Perotta drags up some of Hotch's well hidden childhood trauma, he takes Morgan on a little road trip into his past. (They also have quite a bit of sex.)
Pairing: Hotch/Morgan
Words: 13.3k
Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse & child death among others...they are all on ao3 but that's the biggie.
Notes: First off, this is long. Like super long. Like probably should have broken it up into chapters but I have too many of those in progress right now and I just wanted to stamp something as finished. Second off, this is probably the best story I've written in recent months. I've been posting updates to multi-chaps but my writing has been dogshit lately and I feel like this one...isn't. It turned out nice. I'm proud of it. Third! It's basically a really long headcanon dump. And beyond that, it almost fits into the Chicago universe but not quite so if you notice some similarities...that's why. Ultimately I wanted to keep the sister thing separate though.
**
“He looks too happy,” Derek said quietly to Hotch as they stood outside the one way glass. In the small room, with its banged up gray walls and dirty tiled floor, sat Vincent Perotta. A few years older than they’d last seen him but all things considered, he looked no worse for the wear. His hair was kept as short as ever, his features stony but content, his eyes void of compassion. “I don’t like it.”
“I’ll make it quick,” replied Hotch, though the twisting aching mess in his gut told him it wouldn’t be that easy. Derek was right, he looked almost happy sitting there. Like he was ready to receive a visitor, not an interrogation, not questions pertaining to a murder.
“You think he knows anything?”
“I do. I think he was way too good at what he did to be kept in the dark.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. You think he’s glad Russo’s dead?”
“Absolutely. He may have ordered the hit himself.”
Derek turned to Hotch, eyes wide. “You really think that?”
“He blames Russo for putting him here. Always has. Russo had to have betrayed him. He already had Jimmy before we found him, so in his mind, all of these years, it can only have led him to the conclusion that Russo was working with us. Our visits to Russo sealed the deal.”
“He’s got connections on the outside.”
“I’ll bet they’re limited, he’s a relic, but they’re reliable. And whomever it was that hit Russo is likely to be someone Perotta trusts.”
“That smile…” Derek muttered, unable to escape the shiver it sent up his spine. Hotch squared his shoulders.
“He’s going to take a swing at me personally,” Hotch said, knowing what he was about to walk in to. After his last conversation with Perotta, there was nothing else to make of that smile. Perotta had done some digging and planned to share his findings. “I’d prefer if it were only you standing here.”
“Why’s that?”
Hotch bit the inside of his cheek nervously for a moment, trying to weigh his options. They weren’t good no matter which side of the scale he was on. He was walking into a well-laid trap. A small voice told him to bail, that he really didn’t care who killed Russo or why. Russo was a bad guy who did awful things and he got what he deserved...that was the easy part. But murder is murder, and that part of Hotch that believed in his oath couldn’t abide by his murder going unsolved. Not if he could manage it.
“He and I have unfinished business,” was what Hotch settled on. “In his mind.”
“How so?”
“I left him hanging on a point that he wanted to discuss. He’ll have gathered plenty of talking points, judging by the look on his face.”
“Hotch…”
“He’s going to say things I’d rather not have an audience for.”
“You want me to turn off the cameras?”
“No.” He thought about Derek in the interrogation room, Derek being faced with the realization that his colleagues were about to uncover a secret he’d done everything in his power to bury for good. Hotch had been careful then not to say anything, once he figured it out, once he saw that frightened angry look in Derek’s eye. He couldn’t turn off the camera then and he wouldn’t ask Derek to do it now. Derek’s secret had remained between the two of them and Gideon, nothing in the paperwork, nothing in any files, nothing in the trial. Buford was tried for murder, Derek didn’t have to give details and Hotch planned to keep it that way. He had a feeling Derek had since shared it with some members of the team, after going through therapy, after working through it, but that was for him to decide when and where and if he did it at all.
Hotch looked into that room and knew Perotta would give him none of the same courtesies. If he could only have one thing, if he could just not walk out of that room to an audience, he could manage. He’d be okay. That would be enough.
“You ready?” Derek asked and Hotch nodded, setting his jaw. “Good. Let’s get this over with and go home.”
Hotch grabbed the door handle, setting his palm against the cool metal and pressing down just hard enough to push it inward. He squared his shoulders and walked in with as much confidence as he could muster, given the roiling storm in his stomach.
Read the rest on AO3!
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split ends
superbi squalo x reader
➳summary: you wonder if squalo would let anyone brush his hair for him
➳warnings: n/a
➳ word count: 600
➳a/n: when it comes to khr i like writing stupid shit so here this is lol this isnt proof read whatsoever so it might be dogshit whoops sorry
“Voi, I’m done with the shower.”
You crack an eye open to peer over to the direction of the voice from the hotel bed where you were flopped on and see Squalo exiting the bathroom, towel around his neck and skin still flushed from his evidently hot shower. You take a long inhale, acknowledging him, before burying your face into the pillow.
“Can’t be bothered. I’m too tired…” you murmur, eyelids already half closing.
Squalo scoffs and you hear his heavy footsteps pad towards you before he pulls you up by your arm but you try your hardest to resist him.
“Voi, don’t be fucking nasty!” Squalo insists. “Just get up and wash already, you’re fucking filthy”
“You’re so loud!” You complain as you thrash against him, desperately clinging onto any semblance of sleep you had. You clutch a section of his hair and tug - a last ditch effort to make him stop bothering you. Though if you were fully awake, you would have realised that such an action would naturally produce the opposite reaction out of Squalo.
“OW-! WHAT THE FUCK!!”
As he squawked even louder than he already was, you didn’t bother releasing the long lock of hair in your hand. You idly played with it in your sleep deprived state, twirling it between our fingers as you tune out his screaming.
While it was still damp, Squalo’s hair felt silky and healthy; undoubtedly thanks to his rigorous maintenance of it. As you rub the stands between your fingers, you wonder how long it would take to do his routine; hell, you wonder how such a busy guy like Squalo even has time to do it.
What if he has someone to brush his hair for him while he does work? You shoot down that idea before you could fully form it; knowing Squalo he’d kill them if they snagged a knot or something. Then you start to think what would happen if you were the one to brush it.
“Can I brush your hair?” You ask him casually, interrupting his tirade. He looks at you incredulously, eyebrows almost reaching his hairline. He snatches his hair back from your grip and finally stands up straight over you.
“Have you not been fucking listening to me?!”
“No.” You state shortly and you can hear Squalo inhale, ready to continue his angry berating. “But can I though?”
“Why should I?”
“Well I’ve realised you’ve never let me do it before. C’mon, pleaaase?” You drawl out, finally sitting up. You look at him with a begging pout and you almost laugh at how disgusted he looks. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”
Squalo continues to eye you suspiciously despite your truly innocent intentions for once which makes you sigh, disheartened.
“What about this;” you begin to propose. “If I brush your hair - and I’ll be very gentle and quick about it - I’ll take a shower like you told me to”
He scoffs and tosses his hair over his shoulder. “You’re fucking disgusting to use your hygiene as a betting chip.”
“Yeah but only because-“
“For fuck’s sake- if I let you do this, will you shut up?”
With an elated gasp, you spring up immediately, nodding your head furiously. Squalo rolls his eyes at your sudden enthusiasm but throws a comb at you nevertheless. He turns away from you and perches himself at the edge of the bed, which he feels warping as you shuffle to meet him.
“If you pull my hair again, I’ll fucking kill you” Squalo warns over his shoulder.
You giggle; your hypothesis was right.
“Of course, Captain!”
#Katekyo hitman reborn#khr#katekyo hitman reborn x reader#khr x reader#superbi squalo#squalo superbi#superbi squalo x reader#squalo x reader#s#own works#i love squalo hes so jokes#i have no idea how many follow me for khr but my target audience is myself i wrote this for myself
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Any timeline news bestie?
actually yeah!! a good chunk of news that i need to officially type up and source, but if you want to just take me at my word that i’m not making up interviews:
@1989worldtour and @taylor-on-your-dash found an old interview where taylor says she wrote back to december in new york, meaning it was likely written in early/mid may 2010
in that same interview she also said she wrote mine while on tour, probably in texas (that’s her saying probably texas not me). which would put it march 10-12 2010. the thing that trips me up about that though is scott borchetta said she showed it to him in february, which isn’t a big time difference, but taylor left for the bahamas right after texas. i don’t know exactly what day she left, so it’s possible she flew from texas to nashville’s to the bahamas and recorded the first mine demo then, but unless she did that the next time she could be in nashville would be on the 21st, and the next time she’s in nashville for longer than a day would be march 29, both of which are pushing the february mix up. but no matter what taylor probably wrote it in early march, since all the dates in february were in australia and tokyo, which seem hard to mix up with texas.
in that same interview she said she started mean in her kitchen but then had to leave to go play a show. that could be whenever, but the only 2010 show she played without a show right before/after it was in baton rouge on may 29, where she had two days off before and after it, so speculation but better than the “idk sometime in spring?” that i had it under before
(side salad: you might be thinking claire, is that too many may 2010 songs? and if you’ve read the speak now timeline you might be thinking, but what about long live in the first week of june and the story of us in the second week of june? is that too many songs? and to that i’d say wow, thank you for paying so much attention. but, taylor does go into writing frenzies in the months right before she finishes an album, and she finished writing for speak now in june and recording for it in july, so like. it makes sense that there’d be a cluster right at the end)
nathan chapman, the guy who produced basically every song taylor recorded between 2006-2011, posted a couple photos from the speak now and red sessions! unfortunately we don’t know which song she was making in the speak now picture (my kingdom for speak now studio credits), but the one from red is likely girl at home— it is the only released song taylor made with him at his house after cutting her bangs and straightening her hair
and some super early tortured poets speculation— on october 17, post malone said he’d just hung out with taylor, and on october 20 deuxmoi said taylor had just been in LA working with a new producer. dm is normally absolute dogshit at getting information out of taylor’s camp, but idk about post malone/whatever producer’s side of things. so i’m putting a very shaky maybe on fortnight in october 2023
if anyone has an opportunity to enter electric lady studios please tell me if they have a tan couch in front of a dark wood background. i have crawled through their website and instagram and i can find no such couch but taylor and jack working in a non-electric lady/his house studio would be insane (EDIT JACK BUILT A NEW STUDIO IN LA AND THE PHOTOS I WAS TRYING TO TRACK DOWN WERE PROBABLY TAKEN THERE)
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WELCOME TO THE OC BLOG GOOD LUCK FIGURING IT ALL OUT
its me robbie from @dykeseesgod welcome to the silly guy zone
MY TOYHOUSE THIS IS WHERE ITS ALL CONSOLIDATED THIS IS THE BEST PLACE TO LEARN ABOUT EVERYTHING ITS PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE
ASK MY QUESTIONS ABOUT ANYTHING AND EVERYTHIGN FOREVER
more info w/specifics about the thangs under the cut ^_^
MY STORIES ARE AS FOLLOWS
RELIGIONVERSE: set in 1950s new york city following an angel named theodore who is very much not supposed to be on earth. other key characters are his wife (cecily) his weird priest situationship (elijah) god (deity) and luci (satan) ALSO I HAVE A GOOGLE DOC CHRONICLING MOST OF THE LORE THAT YOU CAN READ HERE
INDIE: weird loser named atticus stalks his partner from highschool (axel) because thats easier than addressing his deep-seated childhood trauma. other key characters are axels current girlfriend (mitchell) takes place from the time theyre in 7th grade (2012) to more or less present day (2022)
VARMINT: two twins named shad and shishka, following the long-term aftermath of their dad, damien, killing their mom, sam, and damiens subsequent outing as a prolific serial killer. and theyre also furries! ive had these characters since i was literally age 8 they are my oldest ocs and my dearest children. takes place in 2021
HOMETOWN USA: fucked up town where every resident is based on a song by tom lehrer. no real story just a bunch of guys existing. theyre going through world war III. set in a vague anachronistic alternate 1960s
G&S INC.: normal office guys. listen to andrew in drag by the magnetic fields. set in the mid to late 1990s. daniel and andrew are mitchells parents btw. and emmetts there too
RAINFOREST FLOODS: haunted waterpark! ghouls! ghosts! soul crushing life ruining guilt over things that cannot be changed! toxic yaoi! sorry im getting tired of writing these. characters are andy bruce vincent kelsey and jeff. shared with @ratsbypaulzindel. you really got a hold on me by the beatles
SHITROACH: the most annoying people youve ever met in your life (gabby nelson graysong) are in a band that sucks dogshit. and also theres other people (niamh newt winona schmidt)
AND ALSO THERES MORE THAT ARENT IN ANY OF THESE STORIES BUT I DONT FEEL LIKE LISTING THEM FIREEMOJI
#art#ok lets see if i can remember all my fuckign characters.#just doing like. main ones#theodore#cecily#elijah#deity#luci#gabriel#atticus#axel#mitchell#shad#shishka#NOT DOING HOMETOWN GODBLESS#andrew#daniel#emmett#andy#bruce#kelsey#vincent#jeff
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