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dcxdpdabbles · 1 year

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Danny's Grill Part 2

Special thanks to @mkarchin713 for letting me use their idea.

Tim's night had been hectic.

Not only have things at WE taken a turn for the worst due to some random influencer that decided Wayne Enterprises was the cause of global warming and convinced all his fans of the same- despite the fact they were the nation's leading company in green energy- sales have been down.

The board was breathing down his neck to fix the stocks while being no help at all to get the youth back on their side. He's already pulled twelve hours of overtime this week and it was only Wednesday.

He's been dealing with the PR nightmare while trying to get to the bottom of data theft across multiple big-name technology companies. Reports of scams and total funds lost were reported all through Gotham and only his city.

Tim suspects someone had been planting screen recording devices in one of Gotham's shipping factories before they left the buildings, stealing all the information from new buyers.

Since his theory is so hard to trace, he's been having difficulty pinpointing the base of operations, never mind having enough proof for his thesis. After Bruce's lost-in-time fiasco, Tim learns to have evidence before going to the family with anything.

So that means he's been trying to fight his way on his own, which usually isn't too much to handle, but stress and lack of sleep have really been slowing him down.

Thankfully, a specific food truck appears in his line of sight, and his mood improves drastically. He finds a safe roof to quickly change into his civilians, already fantasizing about what delicious food he would eat.

Dressed in his typical Alvin Draper disguise- black, almost second-skin tights and an oversized sweater- he all but skips to Danny's Grill.

"Night, Danny," He says, smiling at the back of the chef. He leans on the little extended table outside the truck's small window. He takes a sniff of the air, mouth watering at the scent.

Looks like tonight is cheeseburgers, as Danny carefully flips some patties. Danny whirls around with a smile of his own, only to drop the spatula in horror.

"Alvin! What happened!?" Danny shouts, nearly flinging himself through the tiny opening. The vigilante blinks in confusion before catching his reflection in the napkin dispenser.

In his haste to have some of Danny's food, he forgot to cover up a black eye, swollen right cheekbone, and busted lip from his last faulty lead. A goon had gotten him by surprise and had nearly rearranged his face before he was able to get his wits about him.

"Nothing, really; it comes with the job, you know?" Tim tries to play off, laughing nervously when Danny's expression crumbles into pure rage. "Look, it's no big deal-"

"How can it not be a big deal!? Half your face is swollen!"

That happens when someone hits you with a metal pipe in the face. He thinks hysterically. "I've had worse."

"That's not comforting!" Danny screams, throwing off his apron. "Let me close down, and I'll take you to a doctor-"

"No hospitals. They'll ask where I got this, and I can't answer that." Tim cuts in, voice hard. There is a tense moment where he thinks Danny will force him to go anyway, but after a moment the other man growls slamming his hands on the counter.

"Fine. Fine. No hospitals. At least let me ice it." It takes everything in Tim not to shrink back from the hateful tone. He barely has the mind to nod as Danny quickly unlocks the little door that leads into his truck, ushering the Bat inside with barely controlled rage.

He knows it's not aimed at him, but being around someone so upset makes his skin crawl. Tim has problems with offending people; his parents had been masters in drilling into him from a young age.

That's why Tim always sought the approval of everyone around him, even if he couldn't stand the person.

He has been working on it, but old habits died hard.

"Sorry." He mumbles as Danny quickly gets a zippy bag full of ice.

"Don't. Apologize." Danny bites before taking a large breath, clearly trying to calm down. He gently places the ice against Tim's cheek, staring at him with such tender worry Tim can't help but feel butterflies. "You don't have to apologize for getting roughed up. Never. Okay?"

Tim nods, shyly looking away as his stomach is rapidly overrun by even more butterflies. "Okay."

"Come home with me." Danny suddenly blurts as if the words were forced out of him. He looked just as surprised by them as Tim was.

"What?"

"Just for tonight. Just so I know you're safe." Danny all but pleas, and Tim- well, Tim has never been known to be strong enough to resist his impulses. Sure, the family might worry, but he can send them a message claiming to be undercover, and frankly- it's been so long since Tim's had a break.

He's always wanted to know more about Danny outside his food truck. He hadn't been able to find much on him. Tim is a detective by heart. He wants to know everything there is to know about Danny Fenton.

"I can leave when I want." He says, as Danny carefully places a warm hand on his other cheek. "And I sleep in my own space. No bed sharing. I also want to take a shower but I don't have anything to sleep in."

"You can borrow something of mine/ Whatever you need." The words are practically a warm hug, and Tim feels relaxed. Already the shitty week feels less terrible, and he finds himself growing bold enough to take an obvious sniff of the air.

"Can I have a burger?"

There is a hint of an amused smile, but it does not cover up the worry. "Of course you can."

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The shower is running in Danny's house.

It's a bit out of the way, about a forty-minute drive outside of Gotham limits, but it's spacious and private, just the way Danny liked it.

Ever since he inherited his title, he's found this house on the list of properties, and that was why he chose to take Gotham by storm in his little truck.

Danny isn't really sure what the story of the property was- the suspects the place was built around the same time Gotham got its curse; seeing as it was overseeing the city and had enough natural ectoplasm in the air, he would suspect the curse affecting the town lead to here. He never cared to check.

No, rather Danny had some ghosts remodel the old building to include wiring and functioning plumbing but asked that the general overall of the mansion stay the same.

He sort of like pretending to be a Lord of the Oldden days. If anyone asked if he walked around acting out old romances of the Victorian era, that was not else business but his own.

Alvin was undoubtedly impressed when they pulled up to his house. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so prideful to have the handsome man be impressed with his mansion given the circumstances.

He seemed to accept the excuse of having been willed the house by his late grandfather. He just hoped Alvin didn't think him the same as his wealthy clients.

Speaking of, he better make the call before Alvin finished.

Stepping to his balcony, he pulled out his burner phone and pressed the speed dial five. There are four rings before the call connects.

He gets no greeting, but he's not expecting one. Danny looks over his shoulder to ensure the bathroom door is connected to the master room- his bedroom, where Alvin will be staying, seeing as it has a bigger fireplace. He needs to have them install a heating system. Danny never bothered, what with his ice core and all- before he spoke.

"Hey, Red Hood, it's Danny. I'm calling in that favor."

There is a long pause before the other man grunts. "What is it?"

"My friend is a pro whose pimp or johns have been abusing lately. Can you help me....take care of the issue? I don't want to overstep in his life, but I'm pretty sure they broke his check bone tonight, and he claimed to have had worse before." Danny sighs, his stomach overturning at what that could mean. He hasn't gone out as Ghost King to show those assholes a thing or two because this isn't his haunt.

It's Red Hood's.

Danny had met the other man when a rouge attack had busted up all the main highways he usually worked in and had no choice but to try to sell in Crime Alley. He was right off the territory's edge, freaking out about entering without the main ghost's permission, until Red Hood confronted him.

Danny's frantic fretting had been suspicious enough that the main honcho had gone to find out why he was so nervous.

They worked a deal where Danny would sell his ware in peace, and as long as he let kids eat for free, Red Hood had no quarrels with him. He even got a favor from the crime lord after Danny provided free meals to some of his men's families struggling to get food a few months back.

He also allowed Hood to use his house as a safe house to hide a few people who needed to be out of the city. Is he part of Red Hood's gang? No.

Is he an alley? Yes.

Danny had been saving the favor for such an occasion.

There is silence on Hood's side, so Danny goes in for the kill. "My friend is seventeen; in a few months, he'll be eighteen, but he said he has been doing this since he was younger."

The silence is now laced with malice. If there was one thing they both agreed on it was that kids were never meant to be hurt by the scum of the city. "Give me his name and the area he usually works in."

"Alvin Draper. He changes per night, but I've often seen him on the east side of Crime Alley."

"I'll look into it. Is Alvin safe?"

"Yeah, he's going to be staying with me tonight. Don't come by until I convince him to extend his stay." Danny knows Hood will understand. This is one of many pros to see the Zone- his mansion's name- as a sanctuary.

"That's fine. Can you get me a picture of Alvin?"

"No, he's too skimmish."

Hood grunts again, his voice coming out tired despite the voice monitor. "Kids always are. I'll have my boys find Alvin's primp and johns. Ensure there aren't any other younglings before they make them swim with the fish."

Danny almost falls over in relief. "Thank you. Alvin...Alvin means a lot to me."

" Don't mention it. Stay well, Victorian."

Victorian is the code name Hood has given him to ensure Danny isn't tired of his gang. Yes, it's because his house is a Victorian mansion, but Danny also likes to think it's cause the other man appreciates the aesthetics of his house a little too much.

He once caught Hood admiring his Pride and Prejudice hardcover book displayed in his green sitting room.

"You too Hood. And thank you."

How would he convince Alvin that his house was a better place to call home than the orphanage and street corners without coming off as a wannabe savior or hopelessly in love creep?

Danny pauses at his own train of thought.

Hopelessly in love? He thinks in shock as the bathroom door swings open, and out comes Alvin, dressed in Danny's extra pajama set. He offers Danny a shy smile; even with the injuries, it is the loveliest sight he's ever seen, and- oh no, Danny is in love with him.

"You up for a late-night snack?" He asks, trying to not show the world-shattering realization on his face, and Alvin's smile grows wider.

"You're going to make me fat." The other laughs. Danny's heart skips a beat.

Danny Fenton loves Alvin Draper and will do everything he can to protect him. Even if Alvin will hate him for it.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Danny's grill #Prat 2 #Dead tired #misunderstanding #Danny thinks Tim is a protisute #secret identity #Jason is out for blood somewhere #Danny has a victorian mansion as ghost king #Tim is there for the lore and the vibes

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jolapeno · 10 months

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vii. take care of me

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter seven of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. smut - p in v. reader has a bad day, soft romantic fucking.

word count: 4.7k

an: the biggest thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who read this before bake off and left me a bunch of comments that made me so excited, you almost had this chapter yesterday.

You had seemed downtrodden before he rocked up and ‘broke a rule’.

His pretence at forgetting all quickly seen through, as though he’s transparent. He had wanted to explain that he had only wanted to cheer you up, but you looked less in the mood for an apology than you did an explanation.

So he swallowed both.

From the middle of the week, he had suspected something was wrong. When he had finally managed to call you, you had sounded so close to tears, that he wondered whether he should drive back sooner.

Especially when you had barely laughed at a joke he made on one of his commutes back to the hotel—barely even answering when he asked it if was his movie choice or yours.

I don’t mind. You always mind. If I remember right, you have a real thing about me always pickin’ the movie, querida. Well, I don’t today, okay? You can pick—I—Frankie, I have to go.

When the end call tone flooded the bed of his truck, he’d strongly suspected that you’d fought your way off the phone with him so you could crumble. Cracking yourself open into a bunch of shards, all pressure-cooked by the weight of everything you take on, only to say you’re fine.

It’s why he had driven past your place the day before he had made plans to see you. Fighting with himself about getting out and going up to your door. Weighing up the options as to whether checking on you tonight or waiting for tomorrow would be best.

Then there was the fact he wasn’t sure if it was as your best friend or as someone who hopes for something more.

The lines blurred, practically erased. A speech is likely needed, but he’s as poor with words as he is with owning how he feels, so it’s easier to stuff them down—to drive away, wait.

It’s why he grabbed it to begin with. Why he’d been grabbing them since you put the darn rule in place anyway. A habit, a part of his routine seeing you—a thing he did to show you that you mattered, were important, cared for.

Which is why he’d wrestled with him again on whether to leave it in the car when he walked up to your front door or not.

“You broke a rule.”

You look glum, defeated. Whatever your working week had done to you, it had stolen more from you than you’d been able to—never mind willing to give.

And it fractured a part of him. Made his shoulders sink, his heart sinks—because nothing hurt him more than the look on your face. The one which should be full of smiles and twinkling eyes.

Kissing your cheek, he closes your front door behind him. “I think you’ll forgive me.”

You just snort. Momentarily smothering the sadness that had been there before he’d showed you the bottle—whatever had upset you buried, all of it being quickly hidden as you placed the wine down and picked up your water bottle.

It forces more confusion to swirl inside of him, more so as you begin to go back and forth with him on food, on what he wants to watch, and whether he wants to share a blanket or have his own.

He replies in his usual tone, even if his attention is split into equal parts—one part focused on the little things you do, the mannerisms you’re not aware to pretend. The other on the IKEA furniture he built, the memories pricking him, needling, making the zipper of his jeans suddenly feel uncomfortable over his cock.

“Work been okay?”

Your mouth falls open, all set to answer, but then something shifts in your eyes. A shadow—possibly—it dancing across the plain, suddenly all but desperate to thump its way out.

Then the words never come. Swallowing instead, discarding whatever you'd been about to say—pushing it back before any lingering parts of it are blinked away as you offer a nod.

“Yeah. Yours?” you answer, but your tone isn’t right.

It’s flat, without its usual infliction. There isn't any edge to your words, nor a tease or taunt, not even a Morales in sight. And, the smile you paint doesn’t quite reach the eyes.

It’s practically humming now, the fact something is wrong. It simmers, hanging around, whistling through the air.

Yet, you don’t break, don’t confess it all to him like you had once done with such ease. Instead, you just smear another smile on your face, nudging him, phone in hand as you mumble about food options and what he wants as you lead him to the sofa.

He knows on the surface, it looks the same—how the night is playing out. But it’s different. In all the ways he doesn’t want to put his finger on, and doesn’t want to acknowledge. Not as you order food, not as you chew the inside of your cheek as you wait for the order to be accepted.

Even less so when you mumble about the film, reaching for your remotes.

It's then he decides what he wants to do is take the remote from your hand as soon as you pick it up. Frankie wants to hold your fingers in his, even place a kiss on your wrist. He wants to place two fingers under your chin, and ask you again to tell him what has happened—wanting to be let him in, be shared with.

He wants you close, and not like friends do. A need to have your head to his chest, his fingers sliding gentle strokes against your cheek and neck, offering comfort, providing it in plenty.

His own head turns the options over, planning it out, trying to guess what the various outcomes are. Which, by the time he reacts, instead of managing to grasp your hand, he knocks the remote from your hand with a clatter.

Ears burning, he feels your glare before he truly appreciates it. It ripples out over him before it’s blinked away—a momentary flood of fire licking at his skin.

In the oddest way, it’s at least reminiscent of the person he knows. The sharpness in your eyes is more a friend to him right now than the gnawing going on in his chest. Especially, while the rest of you is lost to whatever you’re trying to pretend doesn’t exist.

“What?”

It’s simple, one word.

Almost feels normal. It's all sharp and layered, just like it usually is. Followed by your body sinking into the array of cushions you decorate your sofa with as you pull up his pick, rolling your head to him—nail-picking at the battery cover on your remote.

And he wants to ask again—just like he always would have done.

Instead, Frankie places his hand on your knee, thumb and index swirling over the cloth-covered bone as you look at the television briefly, before flicking back to him.

In the silence, it’s louder—the whistling. It's suddenly accompanied by the noticeable noise of your brain whirring, your cogs turning.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, but secretly he's pleading, begging.

He watches as your teeth pick at your lip, snuggling yourself further into the couch—knee abutting his leg as you sigh. “It's... nothing. Can we... can we just watch the movie?”

“Hey, of course we can. Is…”

He can't ask.

Fearful of asking. A lump forms in his throat, sticking, thickening second by second as he flicks his eyes over you.

Before you can blink it away, he spots it again. The shift in your eyes.

This time instead of a shadow, they fill with water. They vanish any part of your truth that wished to escape in its drowning. Before he can poke and push, you blink it away as quickly as it had first arrived.

And it needles him, pricks at his skin and stabs into his chest, twisting and twisting and twisting—

“I just… wanted my best friend,” you mumble.

“That it?”

You seem to fight it, whatever it is inside of you, before you curl against his arm again, tugging your blanket up closer. “I really missed you this week, that's all.”

It’s been on his to-watch list for ages, and yet he’s one hour into it and he has no clue what is happening.

The pizza box is still half-open on the coffee table, your plate still remaining with picked-at food that you never really made any dent in, and he blames that as to why he doesn’t even know who the good guy is and who is bad.

Because all of the parts of his brain that usually begin working on undoing and arranging what he thinks will and is happening, are working in overdrive on you.

It's also stopping his heart from hammering even louder down your ear. Because, even if the two of you have cuddled before—lots of times—it's not been post the whole sleeping together thing.

And, it feels nice having you against him, normal, right.

He likes the way your fingers occasionally clutch him a little closer, head turned in the direction of the television and the movie he should be watching.

Instead, he's piecing together the puzzle you've thrown on the floor. The one without the box lid, so no image to compare it to. Trying to assess where you missing him, lines up with the way your bottom lip almost wobbled as you confessed it, as though it was a sin and not a virtue.

Frankie tries to line it up with the fact he knows whenever he's found a moment to himself, he’s texted you. The sea of other unread messages piling up, collecting.

It adds to the knowledge that all of the normal conversation he has with you, quickly derails, slipping into something foreign yet wonderful. Casual phone calls, divert into him with his hand around his cock, listening to you breathlessly say his name and that you wish he was there.

And that somewhere between collecting the sweet noises you make and those innocent-but-not-innocent moments, are the soft moments he has where you’re resting—where Frankie has realised, decided and accepted, that there is nowhere else he likes being.

Not a single place.

Because he wants this.

Frankie wants the calmer person he is when he's around you, the thoughts which are less intrusive. He likes that the rain barely bothers him when he has you in his arms, that he doesn’t even overthink, if anything he just plans. Considering things, turning them over, thinking of a future that begins to sketch itself out and colour itself in.

Something which has been doing so since the time in the car.

Your words rolling and rolling, stitching themselves to other phrases you’ve let slip, until he’s sewing things together to create a gallery, a museum of moments he loves admiring and replaying when the world goes silent.

That's when he notices the movie, the shit-show of a plan formed involving a helicopter, and the words roll from him without stopping.

"That would never fuckin' happen. Not—can you imagine, if I said to you—" and he rambles. Feels himself doing so. So comfortable and at ease more and more things just flow and fall from his lips.

Even when the scene changes in the movie, more bright light than the softer one from before, forcing him to blink—he is still detailing how inaccurate it is. Only slowing to nothing when he realises you’re looking up at him. Hanging on to every word as though he's a poet reading something beautiful.

He feels the way they tracing him then, lightly glazing over all his features as he slowly holds your stare.

Because it’s the kind of gaze he sees in the movies you make him watch. The lingering ones—a blend of both fiery and craving. It all peppered with yearning, and swirling in so much he suspects you don’t want to say.

“You’re going to miss the movie.”

Blinking, you smile. Feeling you flick your eyes from him to his mouth. “Am I?”

Your smile slides further into your cheek, and he can’t help but brush his thumb over it. A dire need to touch you, brush your soft skin and remind himself how you feel.

He doesn’t expect it, but he likes that you curl into his hand. It allows him to trace his fingers along your jaw, down the side of your neck. Half-expecting you to tell him to stop, that tonight isn’t about that.

You don’t.

Instead, your hand cups his against your cheek, staring at him, lit up by the flickering scenes neither of you are paying attention to.

Faintly, blooming out in the shimmer of your eyes, he thinks he sees it again—what he thinks is adoration. It mixing, blending, swirling with care, love…

“Thought you wanted your best friend?”

“I do,” you say, low, just above a whisper, “So, take care of me.”

A second passes as your words drip into the air.

So take care of me.

His eyes flick over you. Likely needing you to say it again, give permission, tell him you want this.

You do. Fuck you do.

Your heart hammering against your chest like a drum because of it. All unable to speak, fearful, fucking petrified, with how much you want him.

Because all you do is want him, and if you speak, you worry you won’t stop telling him that.

Let it fall, leak. Slip out and stain like oil on a sheet.

Because you know it's only normal to miss him this much for one reason, and one reason alone. It's the same reason why you want him, crave him, and feel so desperate for him that you can’t think or breathe. It is all-encompassing, looming, forever there in between the days you don't see him and the waiting on replies to texts.

It’s so close to your tongue, held back only by your teeth.

It could come out, could escape. So you keep your mouth clamped shut. It is better, easier, and less bothersome than telling him you’ve been counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could have your hands on him. Not for this, not because he makes you feel good and beautiful and wanted, but because you feel better. Happier. More you. You feel safe, like no bad work day could ever touch you.

“Querida…”

“I want y—”

The rest of your words are swallowed, stolen. Frankie seals his mouth over yours, barely needing a sentence, just enough.

And it’s searing, full of ache as his hands pull you close, your body singing, itching to come alive—has been since the scent of just him hit your nose.

The worst of days doesn’t matter when he’s around you, less so when his lips marry to yours, when he licks into your mouth, when he breathes you in, and you breathe him.

No one else has ever made you feel like he does.

Not the way your feet almost kick out when his message arrives, a smile gracing your mouth without control when he calls you.

Because he’s different, but then he always has been.

There's always been something, it thriving and growing, embedding vines you pretend are just because you're good friends. But you know, you do. It's hard not to.

Frankie saves you, oblivious to the silent plea for rescue—he just knows. He gets you. Understands every inch of you now, you're unsure how anyone else can ever read you as well. He's someone you could confidently rely on, knowing he’d never leave you alone, not even in the dark—forever a light, a way home.

You think you’re that for him too. Hope so anyway.

He moans your name. Kissing you like he never wishes to stop. He acts like he wants to drown in you, be overflowed by you, and fuck you want the same.

Mine. That’s what you want to say.

Instead, you bury it in a low moan when his mouth captures yours, tongue sliding past your teeth as his hands come to rest on your cheeks. Each touch softer, gentler—from the way he moves his fingers over your cheek, to the way he slides them over your jaw, landing on your neck.

Then, his mouth comes to your ear, breath dancing, all flooded with the flickering television—let’s go to your bed.

He doesn’t rip, he peels your layers off, leaving a trail leading right to your room. He smothers your body with his, his palm remaining flat to your spine, leading, hooking his fingers around the back of your neck as he steers you.

Careful, hermosa.

The consideration dripping from his lips like syrup, all adorned in affection, a taste you have to capture, spinning in his hold, hooking your arms around his neck as you pull him flush, close.

“Tell me you want me,” he hisses.

There's an edge that isn’t usually there but it’s pounding now, all sparkling and fucking shimmering.

You’re more sure of it when he lies you back on your sheets, his mouth exploring, taking his time, taking you to the edge with his mouth as you plead and plead—one hand sliding up over the softness of your stomach, as your back arches into him.

And you shudder, so close to your high—hips held down by his arm. “I want you, Frankie. Always want you. Want you inside of me.”

He pauses—cool air blowing over you as he flicks his eyes up from between your thighs, his skin flushes, a light beading of sweat at his hairline as he comes up onto his palms.

Watching him crawl up you, eyes enamoured, unable to look anywhere else even if they were commanded to. Because he’s more than a sight for sore eyes, he is the sight. He’s the best-looking thing you’ve ever fucking seen, clutching his face in your hands, feeling him drag the head of his cock through your slick walls, staring at you in waiting, like he couldn’t believe this is happening.

“Again,” he asks.

Taking your hand in his, he slots his fingers between yours, fitting, ever so perfectly, before he places your conjoined hands above your head. Eyes tracing up and down your frame, more so as you arch into him, hearing the breathed-out expletive as you wait for his stare to land.

“I want you.”

And, thankfully, Frankie doesn’t let you linger on it. Doesn’t allow you to hyper-focus on it, slowly sliding in, pushing in by inch until you’re full of just him—no more of him left that you can greedily take.

“Always take me so well, baby—“

“Frankie.”

You’re breathless. The air punched from your lungs—his hand remaining knotted in yours, grounding, your nails digging into his skin as his other hand finds a place on the back of your thigh, eyes dropping, all fixated on where the two of you are joined.

“Y'so good for me. Always so good for me,” he adds when his hips are flush with yours. “Take my cock so well.”

Letting his gaze return to you, you’re suddenly so grateful for the bedside lamp you’d left on hours ago because now you get to see him. Admire him, so much so, it makes your throat dry.

Able to watch his muscles contort when he moves, lips parting as he slowly cants his hips into yours, all deep strokes.

And, you know it’s still fucking, but it’s also not.

It’s a unique blend of need that feels right, and also wrong—lips messily finding yours, burying confessions as you eagerly swallow them.

Hoping your throat, lungs or stomach could begin to decipher them as you feel his hand slide down your wrist, and arm until it's cupping your face. His lips slide over your cheek, resting close to your ear, whispering compliments. Because he has to tell you that you’re gorgeous, he says; that you're always so stunning.

Each word that lands has more than an effect on you, as he stutters when you clench around him.

Mouth wrapped around an exclamation of his name as he slides out and sinks back into you.

Frankie has always felt big, but from this angle, like this—he’s somehow deeper, filling you more. He's in your soul. It all filthy and romantic and obscene, but it feels so good, makes heat bloom through your hips and up into your spine, it twisting, eroding the bad day, the bad week.

In a sense, he’s the perfect antidote. A person you trust, care for, lo—

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Frankie’s hand slides back to grip yours, pressing it down—lightly against the pillow above you, before placing the other beside it. And he’s enveloped in part shadows and the light from the table, blessed in golden hues, giving just enough to see how wild his eyes are and how deep the brown in them goes, how blown his pupils are.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?”

You feel your cheeks warm, your ears—every bit of skin on show suddenly inflamed because of his words. His mouth lapping at your breasts, all arched into him, hips steadily meeting his.

“Always are, really.”

“Well. You’re handsome, Morales.”

It’s intentional, adding his surname. Taking the softness out of it, removing what you can, and adding barriers and throwing up walls.

He still sucks in a breath, eyes lingering on yours, fingers dropping to brush a line up and down your cheek as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you. You moan as the head of him keeps kissing that part deep inside you.

It’s different.

You know it; he likely does too. Thankful he slants his mouth over yours. Slowly rocking with you, thrusting into you as you murmur his name, it falling enriched in moans.

From the way you both kiss, to the way you keep an arm around his neck, desperate to keep as much of him against yours.

“You feel so good, Frankie.” Your fingers scratch at the base of his neck. “Always make me feel so full.”

Stuffed really. Packed in. Clenching around him, all tightening, purposefully wrapping your walls around him until he groans right into your ear. Each drag of his cock in and out feeling exquisite, perfect, amazing.

It’s never been like this with others, never been like this even with him. His fucked out face, the grunts and groans coming from deep within make your thighs unable to stop their twitching as fire floods up your spine and the way he plunges you in lust-filled brown.

And you clutch his face, feverish from him, quivering, shaking. Burying the words, “So close, I’m gonna—fuck, I’m close baby,” against his mouth.

Pressing each letter in, stamping it—ensuring he knows it’s him doing this to you. Making a mess of you. The only person you ever want to make a mess out of you.

It thumping inside of you, hammering—all balled up fists and desperation because you want to tell him. Shout it at him. Paint the walls in it as he paints yours in white.

“Need you, Frankie.”

It’s close to the truth. Barely an inch from it.

“I know, need you too. Need to feel you come around me, hermosa. I need it, please. Please give it to me. Let me feel—fuck—feel you coming around my cock.”

And you hear it, the way he pleads—as well as realise the double meaning. You in the car, whispering words so close to the ones he’s spilling now.

“I will if you stay.”

He doesn’t still, but he does jolt. A hesitation in his pistoning.

Then he drops to his elbows around your face, cradling you, caging you in, as he kisses you—sloppily, messily, sweetly. It’s soft, but also full of heavy moans he wishes to force down your throat. It’s indulgent, a thing you never thought you’d have so now you take as much of it as you can get.

“Course I’ll stay. Never—fuck—anywhere I want to be but here, baby. Nowhere else.”

His eyes fix on you, digging the words in.

And, even if you knew it before, you realise how under your skin he is. How he’s woven in around tendons and ligaments, found a home, left marks against your bones you never want to rid.

You’re sure it’s that and not the words which make everything else mute.

Even if it’s all you can hear. Not the television in the other room, not the headboard clattering against the wall, not the sounds you’re making each time he drags his cock through your walls.

Just his words. Whatever he blesses you in. Your thoughts are all incoherent other than that. All shaky, practically vibrating; all gasping and torturous heavy heat, all unable to breathe and yet never wanting any of this to stop.

His hand slides around your thigh, pulling on your knee, bringing it closer as his grip almost grows bruising on you. He’s deep. Fucking into you so hard, hearing the concoction of his hisses, gasps and moans, before his mouth lands back on yours.

It’s overwhelming. The height you’ve reached, the way your mouth is only able to say his name as you watch him lick his thumb and distinctly feel it slide between the two of you. Finding it. Barely struggling to press the pad of it to your bundle of nerves before you lock up, the knot tightening, almost ripping inside of you.

It fraying from how much you’re fighting it, so close to bursting—

Then he draws quicker circles, all persistent, expertly, and you snap.

It surging, all white-hot, all blistering and mind-melting. You become both light and heavy all at once, your nails finding purpose in his side and your sheets, twisting, knotting to root yourself in this, in him—in how much you fucking love him.

“Fuck, querida—that’s it.”

You can’t respond, can’t even think up a response, but you do yank his mouth to yours. Pressing those three words there, laying them down, as well as thanking him, over and over until you slide your mouth against his cheek.

“Be good for me now, Frankie.”

His eyes flick to you, all ablaze and engulfed in want. And so you nod, knowing he can see it, feel it.

“Look so good, baby,” you add.

The noise is strained that comes from him, all sucked in breath. Then, his hips stammer, convulsing, all strangled, tightly entangled in a mess of your name and fuck.

And you kiss him.

Happily licking into his mouth to taste how delicious his moan is.

You try to fight the way your heart drops when you return from using the bathroom. Biting the inside of your mouth as you see the bed empty, sheets a mess, your throat swallowing back whatever sob wishes to escape.

Because the edges of your happiness crumble, your arm wrapping around the other, bottom lip almost wobbling.

That is, until you feel his hand on your lower back. Your head turns quickly, seeing him there. All hair-wild, and soft smile.

“Water, baby?”

Smiling, you thank him, taking several sips before handing it back to him, watching him do the same. Studying the way his throat bobs as he does, the faint marks of your mouth still lingering there on his skin.

“C’mon,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. “Let’s get in bed.”

“Oh, but the—“

“I’ve sorted it. Turned it off—folded the blanket, put the plates in water.” His hand wraps itself around yours. “So, let’s sleep.”

All you can muster is an okay. It leaves soft, slightly webbed at the edges from the way it catches on the growing lump in your throat.

It isn’t until you’re curled against him,

“Is this okay?” you whisper.

He lets out a laugh, little and breathy. “More than okay, hermosa.”

Guiding your leg to hook over his. Keeping his body flush as the two of you cuddle. His thumb swipes across your cheek, forehead close to yours as his fingers fan out over your hip, and he presses a kiss to the space between your brows.

You’re pretty sure your heart just tripled in size.

And those three words, the ones which have amassed into a chunk in your chest have suddenly begun pulsing all on their own—a beat completely separate, you find, to the one which pumps blood around your body.

CHAPTER EIGHT ->

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ghostboneswrites2 · 6 months

Note

Hello! First of all I love your stories so much💖 and hope you're having an amazing day. I wanted to ask if you could write something with this, feel free to decline if not 😊

I have this idea of Daryl and the reader being a thing before the apocalypse, Merle hated his girl and left her closed in a place with loads of walkers around without D knowing(something similar to what happens to him in Atlanta) but she manages to escape and survive thanks to what D has taught her. The group at the prison helps her after finding her tiredly fighting some walkers close to there. D and M are in the woods and the scene of D's back comes and says that the reader was his saviour for staying with him even after that and that they were planning to escape and get married. They arrive at the prison and she punches M in the face and well says to D everything that happened. M gets to see how D gets around Reader and before leaving the prison says to reader to take care of his bro and "sacrifices" himself going to fight the governor, D and r found him already turned and they both cry, promising to take care of each other.

I love the detail here! Plz forgive me, this turned out way longer than I intended. Nearly 5k words! I hope I did your vision justice! It was getting pretty long so I had to cut and tweak some things but I tried make sure to include all your key details!

Separated

Summary: You and the Dixon brothers are on your way to Atlanta to find that refugee center you heard about on the radio before they stopped broadcasting. When your journey is interrupted and you and Merle get separated from Daryl, Merle impulsively leaves you trapped and stranded in fear Daryl would choose you over him if it came down to it. When you're reunited with your love, you face tragedy together.

Note: There are some time jumps here. They're labeled to hopefully avoid confusion. Also some canon dialogue <3 A lot of your backstory with the Dixons wasn't totally necessary but I was trying to create a ~vibe~

18+ MDNI || Warnings: profanity, TWD typical violence, canonically moral deficient character, death and dying, mentions of alcohol and pills

the way he cowers and shrinks away from Merle's walker makes me cry every time omg

Then:

Things went south so fast. The three of you were traveling relatively trouble free. The guys could hunt, and Daryl had taught you a thing or two yourself, so food was never an issue. Finding water wasn't as hard as it would be later down the line. All the supplies left in homes and stores hadn't been completely ransacked yet. It was the beginning of the outbreak. With Merle's truck, Daryl's bike, some weapons and supplies, and the general survival skills you were learning from the two of them, fleeing to the city to find that refugee center had been as easy as something like that could get, until the water ran out.

It should have been an easy pit stop. The town was small. Your grandma would have called it a 'blink of an eye' town, because when you passed towns so small on a trip they'd fly by in the blink of an eye. There was a general store right on the corner, so that was where you decided to start the search. Just some water, maybe first aide and booze. Who knew what you'd find? The truck was parked right outside the store. Daryl wanted a smoke. He said he'd meet you and Merle inside. Then the growls started. Daryl could hear them from a distance, so he knew it was a big herd.

None of you had had much trouble with the big groups of them yet. So far, maybe ten or fifteen at a time. You killed the ones that got too close and fled as fast as you could. No unnecessary risks, that was the rule. Merle always said if he died it would be from something cool like a police shootout or a bank robbery. He refused to go out the way those things took people out. Daryl always said he'd shoot himself before he let them get the chance to eat him alive or turn him. He'd never be a walking corpse. You? Daryl always said you were too pretty to die. You just said you were too much of a badass.

Daryl popped his head inside. There were only two freaks inside and they were easy enough to take down, so you and Merle were just looting by then.

"Incoming. We gotta head out." Daryl announced.

"Just a second, baby brother. I'm lookin' for the whiskey." Merle said.

"Ain't got time for that. I can hear 'em comin'." Daryl insisted. You zipped your bag up with everything you had found so far, including the water, and walked toward your broody boyfriend with a half smile.

"There were exactly three waters left. How's that for good luck?" You said to him.

"Why'd'ya think I keep ya 'round? You're my good luck charm." He winked before slapping the window to get Merle's attention. "C'mon, man! No unnecessary risks!"

You slipped past Daryl and stepped outside, throwing your bag in the bed of the truck. You could hear the moans and groans. You turned your attention in the direction of the noise and you could see the heads peeking up over a hill. Your eyes grew wide as your heart sped up.

"Uh... Guys? We gotta go!" You called out, not taking your eyes off the herd that was slowly coming into view. You had never seen so many of them.

"Merle, come on!" Daryl was growing more aggravated and impatient as the seconds ticked by.

Daryl jogged back to the truck just as Merle was emerging from the little shop. With no sense of urgency in sight, Merle just looked over the bottle of Jack he had found as he casually strolled over to the driver's side. You scooted into the middle seat and Daryl hopped in the passenger spot and slammed his door shut.

"Hurry up, man!" Daryl urged his brother.

Merle grumbled some smartass remark about being afraid of 'a few dead bodies' as he cranked the engine and hit the gas, speeding away.

Now

You were so sore. So exhausted. So ready to just give in, but you couldn't. You refused to give in that easy. Someone told you once that you were too pretty to die, and you took that to heart.

You kept swinging your machete at them as they closed in on you. You were cornered between a building and a fence. What the hell were you supposed to do now? You had no idea, but you were determined to figure it out. You had gotten yourself out of worse situations.

Then

"Gon' have to circle back somewhere to get back on the interstate." Daryl informed, looking at the map.

"I don't need a second driver." Merle waved him off. You rolled your eyes. You were glad to be surviving something so scary with the man you loved, but the third wheel was getting hard to live with.

"Whatever, man." Daryl huffed, turning his attention to the window instead of paying his brother any mind.

You kept your attention on the rearview mirror, relieved to see the herd fading away as the truck rolled forward. Those things really freaked you out, especially when they were all together like that, stumbling and bumping into each other carelessly.

A mile or so down the road, you heard a loud pop and the engine started to sputter. "Ah, hell." Merle sighed.

"What?" Daryl asked, leaning forward to see his brother.

"Gas is empty." He replied, looking down at the dash.

"Are you kiddin' me?" Daryl asked incredulously. "Ya didn't think to check before?"

"I did check, but I thought we'd be back on the interstate by now. Plenty o' cars to siphon a li'l fuel from back there." Merle defended.

"Hate to raise the stakes even higher here," you interrupted. "But, that herd is gonna be catching up soon, so we need to figure something out."

Merle shot you a sideways glance. If it was up to him he would have just left you back home and fled with his brother, but Daryl insisted on picking you up. Now, he couldn't even hop on his bike with his baby brother and sail away to safety because there wouldn't be room for you and Daryl would never agree. He wasn't the greatest brother, but he wouldn't leave Daryl behind either.

"Wha's that?" Daryl suddenly asked, breaking the tense silence as the three of you considered your pressing circumstances.

You both turned your attention to what the archer was pointing out. Just beyond the treeline was a small wooden structure. Some kind of shack.

"A house?" You wondered.

"Nah. Shed or somethin'." Daryl figured.

"Maybe we can hide there and let the freaks pass by. They're pretty stupid, right? Maybe they'll just keep going straight if we don't draw their attention." You suggested.

"Won't even know we're there." Daryl agreed.

"Well then let's quit the yappin' and get over there before they see us." Merle drawled as he pushed his door open. Daryl got out and offered you a hand while you stepped out of the truck. Your posh parents never liked him much, but they never saw what a gentlemen he could really be. You had cut ties with them long before the dead started roaming.

Now

You were beginning to think maybe this was really the end. It really wasn't that many. Seven at the most. But you were just so tired. You lazily swung the blade into a skull and struggled to yank it out. You had climbed on top of a dumpster, so at least they couldn't reach you, but you were still trapped until you could get rid of them. You wondered how stupid it would be to take a quick nap. Surely one of them would reach you eventually. You decided against it.

Then

Without any spoken agreement, the three of you grabbed any supplies you thought you'd need and jogged over to the dilapidated structure. It was vacant and smelled faintly of mildew and rotting wood.

"It'll do." Merle sighed.

"Do? This is a mansion compared to the truck." You remarked, stretching your body. You were stiff from so much sitting.

The three of you watched silently through the cracks in the door as the herd stumbled by with their swinging arms and dragging feet. The smell was something you couldn't get used to, and with so many of them, it was strong. You gagged quietly. Daryl rubbed a hand up and down your back when he noticed.

The three of you really thought you were fine. You outsmarted the dead ones and soon you'd be on your way again. You had never been so wrong about anything before.

Merle got a little too comfortable given the situation. He went and dug through his duffel for his whiskey. He had been drinking so much you wondered if his piss could get someone drunk. The entire time you'd been on the road with them, the man had managed to find liquor everywhere he went. There wasn't a single day he hadn't been drunk, and if there had been, you were sure he'd have a stash of pills to keep him feeling nice. You guessed you couldn't blame him. Shit was rough nowadays.

When Merle found the bottle he dropped it and it shattered. After giving Merle a look that could kill, Daryl turned his attention back to the herd. A few of them were veering off. The sound had caught their attention. Only a few heard, but as they started walking toward the shed, more followed.

"Shit." You whispered.

"This place ain't gon' hold." Daryl added.

"My Jack." Merle complained.

"Hell with your booze, man." Daryl scoffed as some of the dead started to claw at the outside. "We gotta go."

"Go where, baby brother?"

"We could take down the few that are at the door and break for the truck." You thought.

"Nah, too many on the road. But we can run off that way." Daryl nodded toward the back of the shed.

"Okay." You nodded, throwing your bag over your shoulders and readying your machete.

Merle haphazardly hooked his duffel and cocked his pistol.

"No guns. Too loud." Daryl reminded him.

"Relax. It's a last resort." Daryl shrugged, tucking it unto his belt. With a nod to each other, you and Daryl kicked the door open and took down two walkers. Merle was right behind you.

Now

Tires screeched from ahead. You looked up and saw a car. A woman and a man got out of the vehicle and rushed over, taking down the walkers with ease and precision. Gee, you thought. Bet it's nice to have someone that has your back.

The couple walked over to the dumpster and eyed you cautiously, glancing at each other. "You okay?" The man finally asked.

"Could use an espresso." You quipped.

"What's your name?" The woman inquired.

"(Y/N)."

"I'm Maggie." She introduced. "This is Glenn."

Then

Only using your energy on the ones closest, the three of you darted deeper into the woods. They followed, because they saw you and now they wanted you.

Only, there were more in the trees than you anticipated. Usually the woods were pretty clear save for a few stragglers here and there. These woods were not. You wondered why, but there was no time to guess. You just kept running.

Eventually there were just too many. Daryl got pushed further and further away as more and more emerged from behind trees. When you realized you couldn't see him anymore you called for him.

"Quiet girl! He can take care o' himself. You're drawin' more to us!" Merle hissed. You reluctantly obeyed, because you knew he was right. Daryl probably evaded them somewhere and would meet you both back at the truck.

When the running began to take its toll and your chest started to burn, you put more of a focus on searching for somewhere to hide. To your advantage, there was an overgrown cabin not too far ahead. erle peered over his shoulder.

"We're losin' em. Let's get inside an' wait 'em out. Daryl 'll meet us back at the truck when it passes." He strategized well for his inebriated state.

"Okay." You breathed, just grateful for a chance to stop and rest.

Now

"Need some help? Maggie asked, offering you a hand as you slid off the edge of the dumpster.

"Thanks."

"You have a group?" Glenn wondered. Maggie gave him an unsure look. You noticed Glenn looked pretty beat up. You wondered what happened.

"No." You said lowly. You did have people, but you were left behind.

"Well.." Glenn trailed off, looking to Maggie as if to silently ask what they should do with you.

"You can come with us. Can't promise you can stay though." She spoke up.

Then

The cabin had been vacant for a long time. Some of the old dusty furniture remained so you both sat down and just breathed. You handed him a water bottle and sipped on one for yourself while you waited. It felt like hours had gone by. It had grown dark out. Merle peeked out of the window. There were a bunch of them all around, but they had no idea the two of you were in there. It seemed like they lost their lead and just stopped, staggering around in the same spot.

"There's a lot of 'em, but they ain't payin' attention. I say we leave out the back an' sneak back toward the road." Merle suggested. You thought for a second.

"Yeah," you nodded. "Okay."

Just as you passed it by, Merle suddenly shoved you in a closet and shut it behind you.

"Merle, what the fuck, man?" You complained, banging at the door. It wouldn't budge.

"Quiet, now. Don't wanna draw in any unwanted attention." He taunted. You sighed.

"Merle, c'mon this isn't funny."

"'Fraid it ain't a joke, Darlin. Truck's outta gas an' my bike only carries two."

Your heart sank.

"Daryl isn't just gonna leave without me." You reminded.

"He won't have a choice when I tell 'im 'bout how them dead ones took ya down." He mockingly lamented. "It was just terrible, ya know? They grabbed her. I couldn't pull'er away in time before they got to chompin'."

"The hell, dude? Don't do this!" You begged, banging at the door again.

"Look. Ya got your bag in there, got your weapon, got your wits. You'll figure it out." He reasoned.

"Not if I'm trapped!"

"I'm sure you can kick that slab o' wood down if ya try hard enough." He was getting further away by the sounds of it. "Jus' try not to be too loud. Don't want 'em hearin' ya."

Now

"I'd be grateful." You admitted. "I haven't had anywhere to rest in a while. I have some medicine here I'd be happy to share in exchange for a good night of rest."

"Watcha got?" Maggie asked.

"We actually came out her for medicine." Glenn added.

"Some antibiotics, some Benadryl, some stuff for pain. Oh, and I found an EpiPen. I'm allergic to bees, so."

"Antibiotics is what we need." Maggie said.

"Yeah, whatever you need. Thanks again."

They still hit a few stores while you rested in their car. Maggie made sure to grab the keys just in case you tried anything, but you were too tired to try even if you wanted to. When they had found everything they thought they'd need for the prison, they drove you back. Rick and the others were apprehensive, with everything happening with Woodbury and recently losing one of their best fighters. Daryl was also their hunter, their tracker, and generally someone they all relied on.

You explained to them that you were traveling with some people to Atlanta but they left you behind and you'd been on the move ever since. "I'd be glad to sleep outside if it makes you more comfortable." You said to Rick. "I can leave in the morning. I just really need somewhere to sleep."

Rick studied you for an uncomfortably long time before he asked, "How many walkers have you killed?"

"Walkers?" You asked. You'd never heard that term before.

"The dead." He clarified.

"Oh... I don't know, really. A lot."

"How many people have you killed?"

"None." You said honestly. "But there is one person I might beat to death if I ever see him again."

"Why?"

"He left me stranded, surrounded by the dead."

The Next Morning

Rick let you sleep in a separate cell block. He let you know you'd be locked in for a the night but that he'd come get you in the morning to talk. You didn't really care. You just wanted rest.

When he came and got you that morning you were offered a warm meal, which you gladly accepted. You made sure to give them the majority of your antibiotics as a show of gratitude.

Meanwhile, deep in the woods, two rednecks were hashing it out. Name calling, shoving, whatever it took to unleash all the pent up frustrations they had between each other.

See, in all that time Daryl spent with Rick and their group, he began to find a side of himself that was suppressed with his brother around. The only person to ever make him believe he could be good was taken from him before they made it to the quarry. Merle, on the other hand, only represented everything that Daryl was trying to put behind him. Merle was capable of hurting good people or looking the other way instead of helping someone in danger. If only Daryl knew some of the things Merle had really done.

"There was a baby!" Daryl defended as Merle laid into him for risking his own ass to save a family on a bridge.

"Oh, otherwise ya woulda just left 'em to the biters." Merle retorted.

"Man, I went back for ya. Ya weren't there. I didn't cut off your hand, neither. You did that. Way before they locked you up on that roof. You asked for it."

"You know what's funny to me? Hmm? You and Sheriff Rick are like this now." Merle said, locking his two fingers together. "I bet you a penny and a fiddle o' gold you never told him that we were plannin' on robbin' that camp blind."

"It didn't happen!" Daryl snapped. "And we woulda never had to if ya didn't let the truck run out o' gas! And my girlfriend wouldn't be dead!" Daryl's chest was heaving as his eyes stung, threatening to spill fresh tears at the thought of her. Merles eyes flashed something Daryl couldn't quite decipher.

"It didn't happen 'cause I wasn't there to help you!"

"When we were kids.. Who left who then, huh?" Daryl frowned.

"What? Huh, is that why I lost my hand?" Merle rasped.

"You lost your hand 'cause you're a simple-minded piece o' shit!"

"Yeah?!" Merle lost it. He grabbed Daryl by the shirt. "You don't know!"

When Daryl fell to the ground, his shirt ripped down the back. Merle froze. His chest felt tight as he stared down at the gruesome scene left on Daryl's back from years of abuse at the hands of their father. "I -- I didn't know --"

"Yeah, ya did." Daryl's voice cracked as he pushed himself to his feet. "That's why ya left. But (Y/N), she never left. She was always there, man. Always. She was the one who saved me. She protected me. Not you, man!" He wiped a tear as he took a breath between heated words. "We were gon' run away, gon' get the hell outta that town and get married, maybe start a family. I don't know, and I never will thanks to you!"

He did blame his big brother for the loss of his love, but not in the way that he should have. He blamed Merle's clumsiness, carelessness, and negligence. He had no idea that Merle trapped and abandoned you.

Later

Daryl went back home to the prison. Merle couldn't stand too watch him leave, so he followed. Guilt was starting to eat at him, gnawing away at his insides, mouthfuls at a time. He almost felt nauseous hearing about you and what Daryl had planned with you. He tried to imagine his battered baby brother in a nice little house with a wife and kids. Hell, he even tried to picture it for himself, but the image wasn't clear enough for it to seem possible. All either of them had ever known was violence and loneliness. That was why they needed each other. That was why he had to get rid of you.

You had just finished a tour of the prison. Rick told you that you could stay for a while, but he didn't know if he trusted you as one of them. He shared a little about a rival community with a crazed leader. You understood. You never expected to stick around, even if they offered. You couldn't see yourself trusting anyone after what Merle did to you.

You were sitting in the cell you slept in the night before, sharpening your machete and thinking about the things that you couldn't change. You heard distant voices echoing from the other block. It was some sort of confrontation from the sound of it. You snuck over to the cellblock where everyone stayed and peeked around a corner. Glenn and Maggie were blocking most of your view, but they seemed to be the most pissed off. Rick was off to the side trying to mediate.

"You can't let him stay. Not after what he did to Glenn!" Maggie demanded.

"He goes, I go."

You stopped breathing. That voice sent chills up and down your spine.

"Okay." Rick held his hand out, attempting to set forward a solution but the room fell silent as you stepped into view. Merle noticed you first. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Well, I'll shit bricks." He murmured in disbelief.

"(Y/N)?" Daryl breathed, almost inaudibly. Your eyes were welling with tears as you stood just feet away from the man you loved.

Daryl dropped everything and ran over to you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up. You couldn't even hug him back because your arms were trapped under his. All you could do was let out something between a giggle and sob.

"Daryl." You whispered. Your body felt so perfect against his, just how he remembered. Then, it dawned on him. He set you down and turned to look at Merle, a blend of betrayal and fury flooding his eyes.

"You said she was dead!" Daryl growled.

As everyone around you watched the scene before them unfold, they felt clueless. Daryl had never mentioned you because it hurt too much to bring up. Your feet began moving before you could even think. One second you were standing beside Daryl, then you blinked and you were inches away from Merle, rearing your fist back and striking his jaw with a force you didn't even know you were capable of. Merle stumbled and dropped to the ground holding his face. He moved his jaw around a little before he glared up at you.

"Okay. I deserved that." He accepted.

"Yeah, you did." You spat.

"Hold on. Someone care to explain what the hell's goin' on here?" Rick spoke out.

You turned to Daryl, as if it was he who answered the question. You didn't care to share with the class. Daryl needed to know.

"When we got separated in the woods.." You began, taking a breath. "Merle and I found a cabin. We hid there, waited for shit to blow over, and we were supposed to meet you back at the ruck. Merle figured you'd wait for us there."

"And I left her." Merle admitted from behind you. You glanced back at him momentarily. You were surprised at his accountability.

"In a closet." You added spitefully. "The place was surrounded. Took me forever to get out of there and even longer to get back to the truck. By then, you two and the bike were gone."

Daryl's nostrils flared with rage. His fists were balled up so tight his knuckles turned white against his tan skin. His shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath he took. He was so pissed, so hurt. The weight of the revelation had weighed him down so heavily that his boots felt like they were nailed to the ground. Otherwise, he would have lunged at his brother and beaten the teeth out of his skull. All that time Daryl spent in pain, mourning the loss of someone who wasn't gone. All because his brother didn't like her.

"Why." Daryl growled.

"The bike only fit two, man."

That Night

You sighed contently as Daryl traced little circles over your shoulder. Once it was decided to leave Merle in a cell, and everything had been explained to Rick, you and Daryl retired to his own cell to enjoy your reunion in private. He was laying on the bottom bunk, one foot crossed over the other as he stared into space, enjoying the feeling of your head on his chest and your arm and leg draped over him.

"I missed you." You whispered, breaking a long, comfortable silence.

"Mm." He hummed. "I mourned ya every day. I shoulda gone back."

"Don't do that. We're together now. Don't blame yourself."

"Shoulda never believed 'im. I knew how jealous he was. Thought he'd get over it." He confessed. You smiled softly and nuzzled up closer, taking in a whiff of his sweaty scent.

"Me too." You agreed. "But he left me with my bag. He didn't want me to die. I think he was afraid if only two of us fit on the bike you'd leave him behind."

"Nah. Woulda had your sweet ass ride the handlebars." He teased, twirling a finger through your hair. You giggled, then you paused.

"Wow. I think that's the first time I've laughed since we got split up." You realized.

"Sure ya didn't find no boyfriends along the way?" He joked. He always did that when things felt too heavy between the two of you. You rolled your eyes, not that he could see it.

"You say that like I've had a lot of those. We've been together since we were like, twenty." You laughed.

The Next Day

Merle and Michonne had disappeared. You learned that the leader of the opposing community -- the Governor, as they called him -- wanted Michonne in exchange for peace, but Rick refused. Merle had likely taken her as a peace offering since he knew what the Governor was capable of.

You and Daryl left to search for him. He took you to a spot where they had previously convened for negotiation. The two of you did a brief sweep of the area before stumbling across some walkers. You each took one down after another until you were left with only one. You froze when you registered what -- or who -- it was.

A sob immediately escaped Daryl as he fell backwards. You blinked back tears as you crouched down behind him and pulled him against you, rocking gently as Daryl wept. Merle's dead body clumsily pushed itself off the ground and onto its feet. You stood first, hoping to put it down before Daryl had to do it himself, but Daryl was quick to push past you. He violently shoved the corpse. It sumbled back, but it walked toward him again. Over and over Daryl shoved what was left of his brother as he cried. Tears were freeling spinning down your cheeks.

When Merle's body fell on its back, Daryl crawled on top of it and plunged his knife into its skull over and over and over until he collapsed.

You wanted to intervene, to console, to be his rock, but something told you to let him get it out. He needed to. So, you waited until Daryl's blind rage simmered down and placed an assuring hand on his shoulder.

"Wanna bury him?" You whispered.

Daryl shook his head.

"Okay." You relented. You glanced around your surroundings and noticed a patch of wildflowers off in the distance. "I'll be right back." You squeezed him gently before jogging over and gathering each and every flower in the patch. When you walked back over to where Daryl was hunched over Merle, he looked up at you with wet, red eyes. When he clocked the flowers, he gave a single nod and stood up beside you. You split the flowers in half and handed Daryl a bundle. The two of you placed them each individually around Merle's corpse.

You thought back to a conversation you had with Merle the night before, when you couldn't sleep and went out of the cell to get some water.

"Take care of my baby brother, will ya?" Merle's voice echoed through the quiet block.

"I always have."

"We'll take care of each other." Your vice cracked as you spoke. "Promise."

"Promise." Daryl whispered.

Join the taglist! || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 11 months

Text

Run Free - Alpha!Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader (Part 1: Run)

Summary: As an Omega you knew your place in the world, however when the opportunity arrives to escape you take it... only to find yourself face to face with another Alpha

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Language! Captive Situation! Suggestion of Non-Con environment! Angst!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 1: Run

You woke up with a start, the sound of your cell door opening with a loud creak. You looked up to see one of your captors standing at the door looking down at you. The scent of the large Alpha assaulted your nose making you want to vomit.

“Eat, you’ve got a long day ahead of you” he ordered dropping the plate of food by your feet.

You glance down at the plate of food. Seeing the pathetic excuse for food, something that just looked like mush. Even though it was the only food you’d get you weren’t racing to eat it.

“Eat it you worthless omega” The Alpha commands with a growl grabbing your head and forcing it down “Or do I have to teach you where you stand?”

You didn’t dare say anything, your body reacting to the alpha command, picking up the plate and forcing the food down trying your best not to gag. The alpha watching on with a disgusting smirk on his face. You’d been held captive long enough to know your place in the world. As an omega, you were nothing more than a piece of meat for Alpha to use however and whenever they please, you had to lose certain battles to avoid others.

“It’s sale day for you Omega so you’ll be out of here soon enough” he smirks before making his exit.

You knew your future was dire, you were to be sold to the highest bidder. Your only hope was that you were brought by someone nice, that or when they did eventually kill you it would be quick. It was better than starving to death.

Once you had eaten you were dragged out of your cell. All the other Omegas were lined up and marched through the compound out to the courtyard. As you walked the other captors would laugh, purposefully tripping you up. Grabbing you as you passed, taunting you.

Once outside they ordered you to line up against the wall and strip down naked. A couple of omegas protested but were instantly whipped using the silver-tipped whip. They screamed out in pain, instantly submitting and removing their clothing. Soon you were all standing there naked, with the exception of the collars that stopped you from shifting. You could see the captors watching, a few of them whistling making your skin crawl.

They then turned on the high-powered hose and started spraying you all with freezing cold water. As much as you tried to avoid it they would always purposely aim the water at your face. Making you feel like you were drowning before giving you a short moment of respite. Just another level of torture they subjected you to.

Once they turned the hose off they handed out clean clothes. Which only consisted of shorts and a vest. They didn’t give you a towel you just had to remain damp until you slowly dried off. It wasn’t uncommon for people to fall ill and die from pneumonia here.

Once you were all dressed they attached silver handcuffs around your wrists. The pain from the metal stopping you in your tracks, the skin around your wrist already burnt and scarred.

Once you were all bound you were attached to a chain and dragged out. The sounds of whines filled the corridor as the silver dug into everyone’s wrists. You were led out to a truck and shoved inside. Someone coming and securing you all in place, additional silver restraints being attached around your ankles. Ensuring none of you could escape during transport to the sales centre.

You weren’t sure how long you remained in the back of the truck. All the omega quietly talked with each other about their lives before this hell. Eventually, the truck stopped but it wasn’t the end of your journey. Instead, you were herded out of the truck and into a shipping container.

Once in the shipping container, they gave out bottles of water and stale bread which felt more like a brick. Once they were gone they shut the shipping container leaving all of you in complete darkness.

Overall you had no clue how long you had been in this container. You had no way to tell the time, not that you did before when you were in your cell. Occasionally they’d bring more food or water but that was it. You guess though that you were in the shipping container for at least 3 days though.

Eventually, the door to the container opened and a blast of warm air entered the container. A direct contrast to the cold metal you’d grown accustomed to over the past few days.

As you stepped outside you savour the fresh air before you were taken into a rackety old truck. They chained you all up to the rotten wood. A thin layer of tarpaulin covers the roof and sides. You sat at the very back giving you the best view.

As the truck drove off you were able to look out. Dreaming of one day having the freedom to go wherever you pleased. Maybe the Alpha they sold you to would be kind enough to give you those freedoms. As the truck drove through the forest you imagined what it would be like to run through the trees. Darting in and around them, the wind whistling past your ears and through your fur.

Everyone bumped around as the truck travelled down the dirt road. At one point, however, you shifted just as the truck hit a large pothole causing you to be thrown hard enough for your retrains to break free of the rotten wood. Now completely free despite your hands and feet still being bound you got thrown out of the back of the truck.

As you roll along the dirt track you wait for the truck to stop but it doesn’t. You realise this was your chance to finally be free. You couldn’t stay here though. You quickly shuffled off of the road and into a bush to hide.

You waited there in silence waiting for your absence to be noticed and your freedom to be taken once more. But that never happened. They never returned.

You sat up and looked down at the silver shackles around your ankles. You start working on getting yourself free wincing at the metal brushed across your skin. Finally, you got yourself free and tossed the shackles as far away as possible. You examine the burns on your ankles, they were bad but like the rest but they would just scar over eventually.

You had no hope of getting your handcuffs off alone, you needed help. You passed through a town not far back, maybe you could find another omega or a beta to help you. You also knew you needed at least a beta to remove this collar that would allow you to be truly free.

Pushing yourself up onto your feet you steadied yourself against a nearby tree. Once you were certain your weakened ankles could hold your weight you started walking back towards the town. You made sure to stay hidden in the trees just in case you were spotted by the wrong people.

You walked for hours. Your body was so tired and weak. You clung to trees as you walked past, desperate to keep yourself up and moving. You couldn’t stop, not until you found somewhere safe.

Eventually, the edge of town came into view. Leaving the forest you stumbled through the back alley behind some building. At one point you stumbled catching yourself on the side of a dumpster.

Your legs felt like lead, it felt impossible to keep yourself up for a second longer. You slump against the dumpster hoping a moment of rest would help.

Suddenly a backdoor to one of the buildings opened. You froze in fear as the scent of an Alpha filled your nostrils. You turned to look and saw the large man walking out of the building trash bag in hand. He shouted something back to someone who was inside as he ran his hair through his long brown hair.

You didn’t dare move as he approached the dumpster seemingly unaware of your presence. You barely breathed as he threw the trash bag into the dumpster and turned to head back towards the building.

You risk glancing over the side of the dumpster a move you instantly regret when you accidentally make a sound. You saw the alpha freeze before slowly turning to face you, his eyes widening in surprise when he spotted you. His nostrils flared as he scents you and you knew you were in danger. There was no way this Alpha would let you get away now that he knew you were an Omega.

So you ran, or at least you tried to. Your weak legs refused to cooperate, leaving you stumbling.

“Whoa wait!” The alpha shouts moving after you.

You desperately try and get away but you trip and fall. With your hand bound by handcuffs, you weren’t able to catch yourself. Hitting your head as you fell, you tried to move but your body refused exhaustion taking over. The last thing you saw was the Alpha crouching over you.

Ari had woken up early that day, not that he’d slept well that night anyway. His mind running at a million miles per hour, running through all the things he could do and needed to do. He went on his usual morning run, hoping that would help but it didn’t.

In the end, he just decided to go to work early. He drove from his cabin just outside of town parking up behind the bar. Letting himself into the bar he owned he made his way into the back office.

Dropping his bag in the corner he first makes himself a pot of coffee before dropping down onto the small couch he had. He sighs running his hand through his hair.

Once the coffee had brewed he pushed himself up from the couch. He poured himself a cup taking a large sip as he moved to sit at his desk.

As he sat down at his desk his eyes fell on the picture on his desk. He smiled slightly as he remembered that day. It was the day his bar, The Red Sea, officially opened. He and his friend all stood outside smiling proudly.

When the bar first opened business had been booming. They almost had to herd people out when closing time rolled around. Presently the story couldn’t be any more different. Now they would shut up early to save money on utilities.

Ari knew he needed to do something but he had no clue what. If he didn’t find a solution too otherwise he’d have to consider selling up. And anyone who knew Ari knew that he wasn’t a quitter.

Sighing to himself he started going through the month's expenses. Doing all the paperwork that made his position even more painfully obvious.

“Do you ever go home?” Rachel asked leaning against the door frame.

“No it saves money” Ari says not looking up from his work.

“What’s the verdict?” She asks walking in and perching on the edge of the desk.

“Not great we maybe have 6 months at most to turn this place around otherwise I’ll have to sell” Ari sighs shaking his head.

“It’ll work out, you always think of something,” Rachel says patting him on the shoulder as she stands up.

“The rest of the guys are coming up later so don’t hide away in here all day” she adds before leaving him in the office alone.

Ari nodded in agreement before turning back to his work. He ended up spending hours in there working away. Putting off going out to see just how empty the bar would be. He could hear his friends though all laughing and talking loudly.

Eventually, he had done all the work he could and decided to head out to his friends.

“Ah, there he is the slacker!!” Jake shouts once he spots Ari.

“I hope you all paid for those beers” Ari retorted looking at the three men.

“Hey, we’re your best customers!” Max complains.

“You’re my only customers” Ari sighed as he stood behind the bar.

“Don’t worry Rachel charged us” Sammy said pointing over to Rachel who rolled her eyes as she wiped the bar down.

“Good because otherwise there won’t be a bar to come hang out in,” Ari says.

“Stop being so melodramatic you’ve just hit a slump. Every business goes through it, it’ll pick up soon” Sammy tells him.

“Yeah I bet something is right around the corner” Max says.

“Right let's stop being all depressed, you owe me a game of pool” Jake says pointing at Ari.

“I do?” Ari asks not recalling promising him that, the last game they played Ari wiped the floor with him.

“Fine call it a rematch” Jake says shrugging his shoulders as he racks up.

Ari smirks as he walks over “Fine let’s make it interesting”

Jake raises a brow as he stands up “What are you thinking?” Jake asks.

“You win, I’ll buy you a drink for a week. I win, you take a garbage out” Ari smirks.

“Oh no not that dumpster, that thing fucking stinks!!” Jake complains.

“Fine we won’t play,” Ari says shrugging his shoulders and stepping away.

“Okay, okay fine, you can break” Jake relents holding out the pool cue.

Ari smiled taking the pool cue from Jake and lining up his first shot. The balls broke with a resounding crack and much to Ari’s joy and Jake’s annoyance, 2 striped balls rolled into the pockets.

“Fuck sake man” Jake complains shaking his head.

“Regretting that decision now?” Ari smirks.

The rest of the game was pretty close, with Jake managing to catch up when Ari missed a couple. Everyone else cheering on who they thought would win.

“Go on Jake!” Sammy shouted.

“Hey you’re supposed to be backing me up” Ari complained to his childhood best friend.

“Nope sorry I’m backing my fellow Beta today” Sammy says holding up his hands in surrender.

“Don’t worry Ari we’ve got you” Max says gesturing to Rachel.

“Oh, so it's alpha’s vs Beta’s then?” Jake asks.

“Seems that way” Ari laughs.

Eventually, the game got down to the final ball. Ari lined up his shot, it should have been easy. It should have gone in, but for whatever godforsaken reason it hit the side of the pocket and bounced out. Leaving it perfectly open for Jake to easily pot it, which he did.

“Yes!! Rachel grab me a beer and pass Ari the trash” Jake says smiling victoriously as he walks back towards the bar.

Ari groans in annoyance as Rachel passes him the trash bag. All of his friends laughed as he made his way to the back door.

“And no holding your breath that’s cheating” Sammy shouts after him.

“Shut up I’ll do as I like” Ari shouts back as he steps outside.

As he approaches the dumpster he holds his breath as he chucks the bag into it. As he turns around and starts walking away he hears shuffling.

He turns around expecting to see a raccoon or something. He wasn’t expecting to see someone peeking out beside the dumpster. He sniffs slightly realising that it was an omega, one that looks completely petrified. He cautiously takes a step closer but you take off.

“Whoa wait!” He shouts moving after you.

He watches as you stumble and fall, it's only then that he notices the handcuffs around your wrists. He sees you try and push yourself up before completely slumping down in exhaustion.

“Hey it's okay, I’m not gonna hurt you” Ari says calmingly as he crouches down beside you.

You look up at him and he can see the fear in your eyes before they completely shut and you pass out.

“Shit” Ari mutter looking down at you “Sammy! Sam!” Ari then shouts “I need you out here”

“I swear to god Levinson if you throw something gross at me” Sammy says stepping outside “Fuck what the hell happened!” Sammy says when he spots Ari crouching beside you.

“I don’t know, she was hiding behind the dumpster and then ran when she saw me but tripped and must have hit her head” Ari said looking over at all your injuries, spotting the burns on your ankles.

At this point, everyone else had made their way outside wondering what was going on.

“Whoa is she okay?” Jake asks nodding down to you.

“I dunno, we need to get her inside” Sammy says as he looks over you.

“What’s she got around her wrists?” Rachel asks.

“Handcuff by the looks of it” Max says,

Ari decides to try and break them off but when his finger comes into contact with the metal he hisses in pain.

“Fuck that silver” he hisses shaking his hands.

“That must be what’s caused these burns” Sam says pointing to the burns on your ankles.

“Fuck. Who the hell would do this to someone” Rachel says shaking her head.

“Sick bastards” Ari growls ignoring the pain as he breaks off your handcuffs.

He then gently scoops you up in his arms to take you inside. He had no clue who you were or where you’d come from, but he was damn well sure he wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you now.

Sharing is caring so please reblog and leave a comment to really make my day!

This series has no schedule, please don’t ask when it will be updated!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist but follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary and turn on post notifications to stay up to date!

#niamhwrites #Run Free Series #Ari Levinson #Alpha Ari #A/B/O #Ari Levinson x Reader #Alpha Ari x Omega Reader #Ari Levinson x You #Ari Levinson x Y/N #Chris Evans

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archangeldyke-all · 4 months

Note

I don’t know if I already sent this ask bc I was half asleep lollll, but what about Sev and reader enemies to lovers but they both have food trucks. Sevika has been parking in that area for years and everyone knows her and loves her food, but readers recently parked next to her and is stealing all her coustumers. I just think it would be so cute, love uuuu💕💕

this is adorable

men and minors dni

vander and silco have been in feud for years.

silco's subs was ranked the best place to get a sandwich for ten years in a row until vander's po'boys opened up down the street.

silco's subs had a monopoly on babette's dry cuts... until vander cut a deal with the butcher herself.

and, just when silco was certain that he'd outdone his competitor: refurbishing an old van and sending sevika downtown to feed the masses of professionals on their lunch break-- you showed up in your own 'vander's po'boys van', parking across the street from where sevika's parked her truck.

you sell two sandwiches before sevika comes over to confront you.

"you've gotta be fucking kidding me!" she shouts from the back of the line forming outside of your van. you bite back a laugh at the sight of silco's assistant manager.

"good afternoon, sevika." you greet. she scowls at you.

"this is our block! at least park down the fucking street!"

"awe, but then i wouldn't get to watch you work." you tease, pouting.

sevika blushes, snarls, curls her hands into fists, then turns around and marches back toward her van.

you laugh as you watch her go.

despite all of their animosity, half a year ago silco and vander decided to put their differences aside and go out to dinner together, to settle their beef.

the beef was never settled, but vander and silco have been going steady ever since.

sevika's taken it upon herself to inherent the feud now that both of your bosses are pre-occupied with making out with one another. you'd much rather follow their lead and make out with her than fight with her, but you'll play along for as long as she needs to realize that the only reason you're teasing her so much is 'cause you like having her attention.

for days, you and sevika stand off on your street downtown. she has lock assemble sandwiches, you have ran take over for you-- and the two of you spend your afternoons arguing with one another in the middle of the street.

well, sevika argues. you just flirt.

"you're looking good, today, sev. the black apron really suits you."

"fuck off. your truck is filthy. i'm calling the health department on you."

or, "sevika! you like salami right? come try these new smoked slices we got delivered, i've been saving them for you!"

"god, can't you take a fuckin' himt? we're not friemds! i don' wan' y'r fuckin' shalami!"

"...you're eating it all though."

she's been warming up to you, you can tell. after each one of your little spats, she walks you safely across the street and back to your truck, a hand on the small of your back as she helps you cross the busy street.

you kiss her cheek each time she drops you off, and each time, she blushes darker and darker.

and today, as she's bitching about some customer who pissed her off, you decide to ask her out.

"c'mere." you guide her toward your truck. she continues her rant as you reach in the back, into the little mini fridge that carries your lunch and water. "here." you say, smiling and handing her a wrapped sandwich.

she pauses her rant to look up at you, raising an eyebrow. "a sandwich?" she asks skeptically. you huff.

"just open it." you pout. she rolls her eyes, but begins unwrapping her sub. you watch in anticipation as she eyes it, then takes a bite.

she chews, chews, then groans, and goes in for another bite. you grin.

"you like it?"

"fuckin' delicious, what is it?" she asks, moaning around a mouthful of meat, cheese, and bread. you giggle.

"i made it for you. i call it the sevika. almost every cold cut, coleslaw, pickles, peppers, all the sharp cheeses we have, but no blue because you hate it, spicy mayo--" sevika presses a finger to your lips, shutting you up. you wait patiently for her to finish chewing her bite, then lick her lips.

"you made this for me?" she asks. you nod.

"i know you're trying your best to hate me, but i think deep down you got a bit of a crush on me. so i was hoping, you know. i could give you a sandwich and ask you out to dinner?" you try.

sevika smirks. "is that so?" you nod, grinning at her. "will you make me another one of these for dinner?" she asks. you chuckle.

"i was thinkin' we could go somewhere classy. but i'll make you one for lunch every day." you promise.

sevika smiles, then brings her sandwich to her mouth to take another bite. you reach out and grab her wrist before she can, raising your eyebrow at her. "can i help you?" she asks. you giggle.

"i need an answer. and i'd prefer if you didn't kiss me with a buncha meat-mush in your mouth."

"who says i'm gonna kiss you?" sevika asks. you scoff, then smack her shoulder.

"oh, come on sev! i've seen the way you look at m--mmph!" she swoops forward and presses her lips to yours. she tastes like mayonnaise and pickles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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kiddbegins · 1 year

Text

Neighbors - Jay Halstead

Requested? Yes

Word count: 1,198

Warnings: nothing major, bug mention

A/n: Idk if you wanted them to get together in this but tada

Masterlist

[Can I request an image with Jay Halstead in which the reader and Jay don't get along very well since the disagreement they had at the hospital when they met because of a patient. And one night the reader comes across a FLYING cockroach in her apartment and starts screaming and Jay helps her get rid of the insect. ]

You didn’t hate Jay Halstead. No, he was just the annoying guy from two doors down that frequently got on your nerves. First off, you met in the Med ED when one of his friends got brought in. That first interaction alone was horrible.

He tries to tell you (a doctor) how you should take care of his friend (a police officer) and you guessed it, Jay was also a police officer. No medical training whatsoever. But he one upped you, went over your head and got his brother to take over the case.

That was just the beginning of it all. Ever since then it’s like he was always there to push buttons. He never took his laundry upstairs in a normal time. You’d go down to put a load in and his clothes would be in the washer.

You of course didn’t dare move them instead leaving a note on his door telling him to ‘finish your fucking laundry’ which sure he listened to, placing the same note back on your door with a thud as he carried his now dry basket of clothes into his apartment.

Not only that but he always, always, managed to park just a little over the line in the parking lot which at the right time made parking nearly impossible. And since it was assigned parking it wasn’t like you could just move somewhere else. Though you did get your karma a couple times.

Parking as close to his driver side door as possible so he’d have to do gymnastics to get in the vehicle. Always earned you a sharp glare when you passed in the hallway.

He was as fed up with it as you were but that didn’t stop him from parking like an asshole. Like tonight. When he parked slightly crooked over the line and you just so happened to be pulling in behind him.

With a bite of your tongue you did what you always did, pulled up nice and snug to his truck and got out, shooting him an innocently sweet smile as you locked the doors and headed inside.

If looks could kill you’d be dead on the ground right now but that didn’t matter. All you wanted to do was get inside, take a shower and go to bed.

The elevator upstairs was taking forever and by the time it was coming to the ground floor Jay had made his way inside and next to you.

The silence was full of tension as the doors opened, a young couple walking out with their dog, breezing past. Jay shockingly let you inside first, following and stepping to the side with the buttons and signaling to be brought up.

“Was that necessary?” His voice cut the silence as he kept his gaze on the numbers changing above the door.

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the opposite corner, “Don’t park like a dick and that wouldn’t happen,” you replied with a shrug, watching as he shook his head just slightly. The door opened seconds later and the two of you split towards your apartments.

His was just down from yours and completely bare compared to the floor mat outside of yours. The rainbow ‘welcome!’ Sign had seen better days but you didn’t mind its wear and tear as you went inside, shedding the outdoor layers the were a necessity in the cold of Chicago.

Your next stop was the bedroom for clothes and then the bathroom to shower. Which you basked in, the warmth of the water holding you in longer than you wanted it to.

As it grew slightly later you moved to the kitchen, deciding to make something small for dinner before something buzzed by your ear.

Absentmindedly you swatted it away, continuing on with the food making before whatever it was, landed on your arm, pulling a loud scream from your mouth, brushing it off quickly and pulling back against the wall.

Your eyes followed it around the room, the door to your apartment flying open, “Are you okay?” Jay nearly tripped coming inside, his eyes zooming around the entrance to your apartment.

The bug landed on the counter, a whine leaving your mouth before you looked up at the man that usually you’d hate seeing but right now we’re so thankful for. Shakily you pointed at the counter, “There’s a bug.”

Part of you was embarrassed but the way his shoulders relaxed as he stepped further into the kitchen made you feel the slightest bit better. “Seriously? You screamed bloody murder over an insect?”

“First of all, it landed on my arm. Second of all, you’re the one that came barreling in over it.” You rolled your eyes, arms tightly wrapped around you. Bugs were the last thing you liked dealing with. You could do blood, pus, vomit. All the nasty doctor stuff.

But not bugs. “I thought you were hurt.” Jay sighed, looking around. “Where are your paper towels?” He asked, following the line of view where you pointed again.

With a sigh he ripped one off the roll, slowly going towards it. “Wait don’t kill it-“ Jay faced you.

“What?”

“He’s just a bug, he doesn’t deserve to be killed just because I hate him and want him gone.” You slightly stepped forward, reaching into the cupboard above the sink, trying so hard not to disturb the winged insect.

Jay raised his eyebrows, “So the bugs a he now?” He teased, watching as you grabbed a glass and handed it to him.

“Shut up, just, get him so you, I, we, whatever can get him the hell out of here.” You spoke quickly, Jay raising his hands up in defense before placing the glass over the bug.

He turned to you once more, “Now what? You have paper just lying around?” His words were sarcastic but in actuality you did.

You brushed past him, grabbing a page from the magazine you had on your living room table, ripping it out and handing it to him. “That work?”

Jay nodded faintly, “Yeah..” He took it, successfully trapping the bug in the cup as he lifted it. “I’ll let him out the window,” The man offered, walking to the living room where you pulled a window and its screen open for him.

Once it was gone you took the cup from him, a light smile on your face, “Uh, thank you.” You muttered, walking away quickly to the kitchen to wash it out. Whether it touched it or not that glass was tainted.

“Yeah, no problem. Hey, next time try not to scream like you’re getting killed unless you’re actually getting killed.”

“Oh yeah I’ll do my best.” You rolled your eyes once more, glancing over at him. “No promises though. I hate bugs,” You added, flipping the cup over to let it dry.

Jay nodded faintly, “Well, you know where I am if you need an exterminator.” You shot him a look, “Or remover.” He tagged on before giving you a soft smile, “I’ll see ya.”

With that he left and you couldn’t help but look at the door when he was gone. Maybe he wasn’t that horrible of a guy.

Wanna be on jays tag list? Join here.

Tags: @mrspeacem1nusone @everything-fandom

#jay halstead #jay halstead one shot #jay halstead fic #jay halstead writing #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead and reader #chicago pd #one Chicago #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fanfiction #one Chicago fic #teddy writes #teddy writes jay halstead #teddy writes chicago pd #teddy writes one chicago

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ordon-pumpkin · 8 months

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Percy Jackson spoilers and criticism below.

I see people complain about how the show just has the characters figuring out things way too quickly (I completely agree with this.) Then I see people complaining about that criticism saying things like “Oh it makes sense! They would know that because Annabeth’s been at camp, Grover is a satyr, and Percy’s mom taught him about the myths!” However, there is a difference between them knowing about the stories and them IMMEDIATELY figuring each potential trap/situation out and zapping the energy from the scenes.

These same instances in the book usually involve a feeling of unease, something feels off, things seem kind of familiar, and it slowly dawns on them what they are dealing with OR they are escaping one situation to be thrust into another and don’t have time to think about it at all. There’s tension, there’s drama. I’m here for it. The show on the other hand? Oof.

Also the circumstances in which they encounter these situations in the book greatly influence how things go. They are human(ish) after all and them getting into these messes makes them easier to connect to as characters. Let’s break it down a little more there.

- With Medusa they were lost in the woods and hungry. The smell of food lured them in. They were hungry children dang it! From the circus lol (Honestly, this instance didn’t bother me too much in the show when I first watched it because it was early on before the knowing things too soon became an ongoing theme.)

- With the Lotus Hotel and Casino they were tired and feeling grimy, having just traveled in the back of a truck with a bunch of animals in horrible conditions. It was scorching hot outside. They were absolutely exhausted and wound up there where a doorman invited them in and it was a relief to have somewhere to take a break, recoup and figure out their next move. Once inside they had access to a shower! There were snacks. Plus the place was incredible. It also showed their interests with Annabeth being drawn in to trivia and city building games, Percy liked the bungee jumping! Grover played a reverse hunting game! Percy figured out the trap by asking a guy using 70s slang and dressed to match, what year it was. He kept asking and getting different answers. Then he was able to snap Annabeth out of it by describing spiders, which he knew she had a fear of from the Tunnel of Love ride. (This whole scene in the show was such a let down, so was the Tunnel of Love scene but I’ll leave that alone for now.)

- With Crusty they were on the run and dashed into the store. This encounter is one of my favorite moments of Percy’s quick thinking in the books btw. Also his absolute lack of hesitation to slice someone’s head if they mess with his friends. Percy is smart. He’s very street smart actually. In the book this scene shows that really well. (The way I paused the show in frustration and almost turned it off when the episode started already at Crusty’s with the line “I know who you are.” Like of course. That’s just how we’re telling this story now. Check. They met Crusty. And he doesn’t feel like a threat at all. But they met him I guess.)

The exhaustion and the circumstances in these instances in the book and getting into these traps aren’t the trio being “stupid.” They were moments that set up the situation to feel more relatable, alive, tense, and interesting. The show’s changes have taken away most of the tension from these scenes. Them knowing and catching on to things so quickly is lazy and it is incredibly boring. It just feels like they are checking off a list of places from the books they wanted in the show, while losing the entire energy and impact of those locations and scenes.

To me everything in this show feels like it’s at 20%. The humor, the stakes, the tension, the personality, the freaking lighting (why is so much of this show so hard to even see?), the whimsy, the magic, the charm. It’s all so dialed back and watered down. The book is a roller coaster of making you laugh and putting you on the edge of your seat with the tension and situations these kids get into. It’s campy, it’s intense, it’s crazy, and so energetic. The show feels bland in comparison. Idk how you manage to make Percy Jackson feel boring but they did it.

I’m not asking for it to be an exact copy of the book. I’m just disappointed with how dull it is. When it’s boring and it’s a scene that was the furthest thing from that in the original version then YES I’m going to compare it and wonder why there were changes to make it less interesting. In fact, my favorite scene in the show so far is actually the taxi in the parking garage scene. It captured the energy and vibe of Percy Jackson really well and it’s a scene not in the books at all. The energy is important and this show is lacking severely most of the time. It has some really good moments (back to that 20% thing) but overall it’s such a let down.

We have one episode left of the season and I don’t exactly have high hopes of it making things better. It just makes me sad because I wanted to love this series. The incredibly talented cast, a major studio behind it, passionate people being involved including the author, amazing source material… I look at all of the ingredients and it should be amazing. But I’m pretty disappointed right now.

#pjo tv #Percy Jackson and the olympians #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson spoilers #pjo #pjo tv critical #pjo tv crit

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milla984 · 11 months

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And in the Beginning...

Summary: after spending a day at D.C.’s most renowned multifandom convention Spencer and Garcia stop for a coffee. Spoiler alert - our fave Resident Genius dumps their order on Reader.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (Reader is a sci-fi buff)

Category: fluff

TW/CW: swearing, mentions of food, some Star Wars-related talk

Word Count: 2k

Once again, a ginormous THANK YOU to @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read the first draft (aka witnessing the horror)!

The following work is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“Highlight of the day?! Jamie Hewlett signing my copy of The Cream of Tank Girl! In you face, Mr. 'Superman Can Fly'...!”

The woman carrying a Chinese paper umbrella rummaged through her purse to retrieve a wallet and pay at the coffee truck parked outside the convention center; stylish two-tone glasses matched the army green jumpsuit with a teddy bear patch on her right leg and the blue mandarin collar button-down shirt she was wearing, and her blond hair was tied up in a pair of small side buns.

The tall man beside her chuckled as he picked up two cups. “I don’t know if I should be more impressed or worried.”

“Why?! We made a deal and it’s perfect: he can have Sci-Fi-Gate, I’m keeping WashCon.”

“Sci-Fi-Gate has amazing Star Trek guests, though…”

A long and colorful scarf was wrapped around his neck and a deep red cravat necktie peeked out of the hem of a plaid design vest, combined with a single-breasted brown coat and a pair of grey pants.

“I can't believe you would really choose the Captains of the Enterprise panel over my emotional stability,” she frowned, paying zero attention to the cosplayer in a trenchcoat with a pair of black wings attached to their back she was about to brush past.

When the feathers smacked her cheek she pulled back, the tips of her umbrella almost poking the tall guy dressed as Doctor Who in the eye; the sudden movement startled the cosplayer and a rapid swing of their dark wings created a commotion in the crowd of people waiting for their turn to order. In the confusion that followed, a random shoulder bumped into yours and pushed you out of the line and off the sidewalk, right in front of the Fourth Doctor - who was struggling to maintain his Fedora in place and watch where he was going at the same time.

Needless to say, he ended up failing at both.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” the blond woman asked.

“I’m so sorry, SO SO SORRY—” the tall guy apologized simultaneously and she cut him off, rushing to your side.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

The frantic exchange prompted your brain to whoosh into light speed mode to elaborate and discharge the ‘Ah, shit!!’ and ‘wait… is this iced macchiato?!?!’ inputs in favor of a more suitable reaction at the sight of the considerable amount of caffeine soaking your hoodie.

“... I think I’m okay.”

“First-aid manuals suggest removing all clothes or jewelry near the affected area within moments after the spillage of a hot liquid,” the tall guy said, and the woman gasped in shock.

“Please tell me you didn’t get burned! Once I got this non-fat steamed white chocolate vani—”

“I’m fine,” you growled a bit.

Someone behind you was snickering and, despite the relief of not having sustained serious injuries, the attention was already making you feel uncomfortable.

“Scalds are caused by sources of humid heat and certain types of fibers retain the water, which can be responsible for additional damage to the skin,” the tall guy explained again, speaking faster than anyone you had ever heard.

You tucked your shirt in your jeans and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Let me guess: you’re a doctor.”

“Well… uhm, yes, this is my…” he faltered, unable to tell if you were referencing his costume as a pun or not. “I am, actually.”

“Not that kind of doctor,” the woman added.

She sighed as soon as she realized you were standing there speechless, drenched in coffee, your gaze wandering back and forth between them. “I’m so sorry…”

“They should be more careful with the lids. I think I got lucky,” you muttered through gritted teeth as you pulled the zip down.

Thanks to the decision to splurge some money on yourself, earlier on, you had something to replace your soiled hoodie with. The Fourth Doctor looked away and focused his attention on the cups he was still holding in his hands; before he threw them in the nearest trashcan he inspected their content, confirming he’d fortunately spilled on you a combination of 98% half-caf iced caramel macchiato and just 2% regular hot americano.

The woman was still clasping the handle of her umbrella. “Listen, we were about to check out this itsy-bitsy lovely Indian place ‘round the corner, maybe you should come with us. You know… to try and get cleaned up a little.”

You dug into the shopping bag at your feet, taking a sealed package out to rip the plastic film wrapped around a brown sweatshirt with a stylized front print of the panoramic view of the desert, Jabba the Hutt’s palace and twin suns on Tatooine, and put it on.

“No offense, but my parents taught me to never follow strangers.”

“None taken,” the tall guy replied, “they were absolutely right. According to the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, about 90,000 individuals are reported missing in the U.S. every year and the National Institute of Justice estimates that approximately 4,400 unidentified bodies are recovered annually.”

For the second time in less than five minutes, you considered the possibility he could truly be from Gallifrey. You also wondered if he was aware of his perfect facial structure: everything about his demeanor indicated he wasn’t too skilled in the art of charming people using his sculpted jawline and lean figure.

“... do you always quote statistics about murders and kidnappings like it’s a casual topic of conversation?”

His eyes got even bigger, showing a hint of gold on the inside. “It was merely an observation—”

“Yeah, he… does that,” the woman came to his rescue, “and even if it sounds bad, trust me it’s- it's part of his job. Our job. Except, I don’t deal with the scary, disturbing, yucky stuff.”

Your question wasn’t meant to come out in such a sarcastic tone. “You’re cops?!”

“FBI. Tech Analyst and Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, and the tall guy waved a silent greeting at you.

Even though the chance of running into the Bureau personnel stationed in D.C., at some point, wasn’t unreasonable, ‘two FBI agents walk into a multifandom convention dressed as characters from sci-fi TV shows’ could have easily been the beginning of a bad joke.

Plus, it was hard to picture the Fourth Doctor as a G-Man. “What’s your Ph.D. in, exactly?”

“I have a Ph.D. in Mathematics. And Chemistry, and Engineering. And I hold BAs in Psychology, Sociology and Philosophy.”

“Google him. Spencer Reid, B-A-U,” the woman suggested after a short pause, in response to your skeptical expression.

Judging by her tone she was daring you to, as if the situation wasn’t already giving off major The Twilight Zone vibes… and yet, instead of bidding them an unenthusiastic farewell, you pulled out your phone to type his name.

A plethora of results popped on the screen seconds later, so you first clicked on the link titled BAU’s newest member.

“With three doctorate degrees from Caltech already, and a staggering IQ of 187 as well as an eidetic memory there is no psychological exam or test the FBI could put in front of him he could not ace,” the piece said about newly-recruited Spencer Reid.

“When I ask why he chose Caltech over MIT and Stanford, he quickly runs down a list of Professors he had a desire to study with. He makes no mention of the weather or girls,” an older article reported.

You skipped through at least a dozen mentions of SSA Reid’s outstanding performances in the field, then a PDF document, property of the California Institute of Technology, caught your interest and you read the title aloud.

“Identifying non-obvious relationship—”

“Non-obvious relationship factors using cluster-weighted modeling and geographic regression,” he recited by heart, “that's my Engineering dissertation.”

He was too prepared on the subject and too adorably peculiar to be an impostor posing as a genius FBI agent for kicks, during the weekend; you picked his Fedora off the ground as a peace offering.

“Seems like you’re a wunderkind, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer lowered his chin so he could mask the rush of blood to his cheeks and his friend giggled, gently linking arms with you.

“Now, there’s something relevant we need to discuss, pronto… how do you feel about veg biryani?”

An hour and a half proved to be all the time you needed to form a solid conviction that Spencer Reid going on a spiel about the original blueprints of a fictional space station was the best thing since sliced bread.

“It’s part of the iconic imagery Lucas wanted to establish, there’s no health and safety. And don’t forget it was originally designed by the Geonosians.”

You snorted at the mention of the classic ‘designed by a flying alien species’ argument. “That’s not an excuse! Even if the Geonosians designed it, they knew it was meant to be used by humanoid creatures.”

After leaving the restaurant, where you had insisted on paying for your share - much to Garcia's dismay, you’d walked back to the convention center’s parking lot and now you were waiting by your car for Penelope to get hers. As you had recently discovered, she loved mugs, old Italian movies and playing the ukulele; Spencer wasn’t as outgoing and chatty, especially about his private life, but Star Wars was for sure one of his numerous areas of expertise.

“TIE fighters don’t have a proper defense system and the original prototype even lacked structural integrity to support atmospheric flight. The Empire doesn't care about casualties, it’s safe to think they never bothered to install a guardrail or other appropriate safety measures because to them the Death Star technicians are expendable.”

“Okay… solid theory,” you admitted, making him smile as he wiped his forehead to get rid of a lock of curly hair.

“Thank you. It’s nice to have a discussion with someone who knows about the Geonosians. Or the Death Star. It only happened twice but I’ve had people asking me what that was.”

When the convertible Cadillac with a plastic Hawaiian lei tied to the rear-view mirror stopped inches from you, Garcia - behind the steering wheel - proudly gestured at the extension of her eccentric personality.

“Meet Esther. Isn’t she fab?”

You wolf whistled your appreciation, gliding your fingertips over the leather upholstery and orange body paint. “Quick question: how much do you think I’d get if I sued two FBI agents for… damages, let’s say?!”

Penelope produced a fluffy pen out of the glove compartment and scribbled something on the back of a PetMAC receipt she handed it to you.

“Sweet pea, if I were you I'd settle for a lifetime of free IT support.”

“I’ll take it,” you said, “I’m kind of tired of being bullied by my own laptop.”

She stared at you for a moment before her face lit up, like a girl on a trip to a four-story candy shop. “... have you ever been to Baltimore ComicCon?!” she asked out of the blue while Spencer plopped himself down on the passenger seat.

You shook your head. “Do you guys—”

“We should totally go together!!” Garcia proposed. Or rather, declared.

In all honesty, the prospect of attending another convention on your own was depressing and you’d given up on the one in Maryland for that specific reason; you turned to Spencer for his approval, too, and he nodded, maybe because he knew there was no way of stopping Garcia if she had her mind set on a specific goal.

“Baltimore it is, then…?!”

Penelope shot you a smug grin. “Keep in touch. We still owe you a nice dinner and ComicCon’s not up until September, I’d hate to run a background check on your license plate to find you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea and saluted them goodbye as they drove off, Esther’s taillights shining bright red.

What a weird Saturday. Meeting a real life genius and the quirkiest FBI agent ever came with a price, and one of your favorite hoodies was most likely beyond salvaging. You needed to know if Spencer Reid was well worth it.

Garcia’s words then echoed in your ears, so you sat in your car and unlocked your phone, scrolling through the most recent Google searches: you had a lot of reading to do.

@matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid x reader #my gifs #milla writes stuff #mentioningmargins #there are references from a couple of other tv shows hidden in this work #feel free to let me know if you can find them #quot “i understood that reference”

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

Text

☀️ CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge 🏖

The following are prompts including the theme of Summer! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

☀️ Generic Prompts ☀️

Everyone looks better in a sundress.

Character doesn't know how to swim.

Characters A and B cuddle in a hammock.

The team has a (MASSIVE) family barbecue.

The BAU has a pool party at Rossi's vacation home.

The sun makes Characters sleepy, so they take a nap.

Characters A and B have a picnic (it goes well/wrong).

Character shows up in swimwear that no one expected.

Character A suffers heatstroke and B takes care of them.

Character A teases B about needing to practice CPR at the pool party.

Character A never loved B more than when they ran through the sprinklers.

The air conditioning broke and Characters try to find creative ways to cool off.

Characters A and B go berry picking together (and enjoy the fruits of their labor).

It's Character's first time camping and they weren't prepared for how cold it gets on summer nights.

Character A lectures B on the importance of sunscreen, yet freezes when they are asked to help apply it.

The BAU is a group of very serious FBI agents. They take their water gun/balloon fights very seriously.

The couple thought their vacation would be a chance to get away from the BAU, but the resort town they're staying in turns out to have an unsub in it.

Character helps their child with their first entrepreneurial venture... a lemonade stand. They weren't expecting half the damn FBI to show up.

Character A’s wide-brimmed hat flew right off their head and into a tree. B helps them get it down.

Anything else you can think of!

☀️ Dialogue Prompts ☀️

"It's like Hotch at the beach."

"Come on in, the water's fine."

"It's so hot but I am so touch starved."

"... How did you even get that tan line?"

“Yes, the sunburn is as bad as it looks.”

"Oh my god, do I hear the ice cream truck?"

"Next Summer, we're doing the Alaskan cruise."

"It's a million degrees outside, why are you in the hot tub?"

(sarcastic) “Feels just like the summer camps of my youth.”

"I am staying hydrated. All of my drinks are iced." "That does not count."

"There is no shame in using a pool floatie." "Yes, there is. I'm shaming you."

“You look hot.” “Thank you!” “No, I mean literally… I think you’re overheating.”

(lying) "My phone doesn't work on the beach. Must be the signal or something..."

☀️ Character Specific Prompts ☀️

Spencer: He learned from the last time a beautiful person pulled him into a pool.

Spencer: He has a degree in engineering. How can he be defeated by a sandcastle?

Spencer: "I don't really like the beach... Sandy food, pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, but mostly drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull feces.”

Luke: Reader loves to go to the dog beach to look at cute puppies. A dog named Roxy takes special interest in them.

Tara/Emily: “And what did you do with your summer vacation, Emily Prentiss?”

☀️ NSFW Prompts ☀️ 18+ ONLY ☀️

Character gets caught skinny dipping.

Character A can't get out of the water after seeing B.

Sex on the beach is so much worse than everyone said.

Character A can't deal with how much B loves popsicles/ice cream cones.

It's too hot to wear clothes at home, so Character walks around in their underwear.

Character A finally convinces B to go to the beach with them. Turns out it's a nude beach.

Rules

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character.

Tag me in the fic, or send it to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it just for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

🏖 Happy Writing! 🏖

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musings-of-a-rose · 7 months

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Falling Slowly - Chapter 7

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 4000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: This chapter is back to reader/Daisy’s pov

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Divider made by @benkeibear

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

<<;Chapter 6<<

Outbreak Day: Daisy

I snuggled into bed after tucking Jax in, fully intending on reading my book until Tommy came home. It shouldn’t be too much longer, depending on how well the Rivieras can hold their liquor. But after a couple of chapters, I was actively fighting on keeping my eyes open, a day of packing and chasing Jax around finally catching up to me. I set the book on my stomach, closing my eyes to just rest a moment…

A blood curdling scream from outside rips me from my sleep and I jerk myself awake, heart racing and frozen in place while I try to listen for more, my hand automatically feeling for Tommy in the bed next to me, but feeling cool sheets and no Tommy. In the distance, I can hear some light commotion but I can’t quite place it. I quickly get out of bed, grab the wireless phone off its stand on the side table and pop my head into Jax’s room, finding him still asleep. I dial Tommy quickly, but when I put the phone to my ear, all I hear is beeping. I hang up, putting the phone to my ear before dialing this time and hear the same sound. Which means the phones are down.

Fuck.

I head downstairs quietly, ears on full alert for the slightest sound or movement as I grab my cell phone and unplug the charger. It’s fully charged but it too has no signal. This is not good. Landlines and cell signals cut?

I move to the living room and switch on the tv, colored lines reflecting in my eyes as channel after channel alternates between colored lines and displaying the same emergency message:

NATIONAL ALERT

PRIMARY ENTRY POINT SYSTEM

ISSUED AN

EMERGENCY ACTION

NOTIFICATION

“...indoors. Law enforcement and emergency services are in the area and will be in contact with further instructions….Stay indoors. Law enforcement-”

I switch off the tv, fully awake and alert now. What the fuck was going on? Are we being invaded? And where’s Tommy?

I hear more sounds outside, car doors slamming and helicopters moving about in the distance and it jerks me into gear. Tommy had taught me some basic things to do in case we had to get out fast, in case of an invasion or something else. I don’t know all of what he saw when he served overseas but he said it was good to always be prepared, just in case.

Thankfully, our bags were already packed, suitcases and backpacks against the hall wall waiting to be put into Tommy’s truck. I dashed into the kitchen and packed a bit more food than I had initially intended, tossing some extra filled water bottles into a tote and setting it down by the backpacks. I quickly went upstairs and changed into jeans and a shirt, grabbing one of Tommy’s flannels and sliding my arms into it, trying to at least get some comfort from his scent. Hair pulled back to keep it from my face, I lace up my shoes, trying to tell myself this would all be for nothing, that it was really a test and Tommy would be coming home any moment to tell me everything was fine. Another quick glance at Jax shows me he’s still asleep and I let him sleep for now. There’s not really a reason to wake him until I’m certain we have to move. I toss an extra outfit of jeans and a shirt in his backpack just in case he can’t change before we head out, an extra pair of shoes stuffed in a bag on top of his clothes.

It’s when I head downstairs to wait for Tommy that I hear it again, that scream that sets my entire body on high alert, nerves coursing at their full fight or flight.

I move to the front window and slide the curtain back just enough to peek outside, hearing crashing coming from next door. I can’t quite make it out, but it looks like Mr. Johnson is attacking Mrs. Johnson? No, that can’t be right. But then they move into the streetlight, Mrs. Johnson’s scream ringing out again and that’s definitely the one I heard and Mr. Johnson is definitely not behaving right.

Without thinking, I grab the baseball bat near the door and open it, stepping out into the yard and quickly sneak up on the couple, Mr. Johnson having pinned Mrs. Johnson to the ground. He’s hunched over her, an odd wheezing sound coming from him. He seems to sense me, his body stiffening and when his head turns towards me…what the fuck is that coming from his mouth? Before he can move I swing, my bat landing its target square in the face, Mr. Johnson flying back and laying still on the ground. Carefully, I walk over to them, glancing over at Mr. Johnson who’s face was definitely smashed in from my swing. Fuck, I didn’t mean to kill him!

But then I hear gurgling from Mrs. Johnson and I look down at her, seeing the exact moment when the light leaves her eyes. She’s still for a moment, the sounds of car tires screeching and helicopters flying overhead getting a little louder. Then her body jerks inhumanely, and I back up quickly, gripping the bat tighter in my hand. As she sits up, she turns her head to me and I can see the same whatever the fuck coming out of her mouth just like Mr. Johnson and my entire body yells “JAX! GET JAX AND GO!”

So I do. I turn and run as fast as I can back to my house, hearing screeching and feet pounding the cement behind me, Mrs. Johnson chasing me back to the house. I try to slam the door closed but she’s there, bouncing off of it, scrambling to push it open and I don’t wait, running down the hall and throwing everything I can reach in her way, even chucking the bat at her head. It seems to slow her down just enough for me to take the stairs 3 at a time, launching myself into Jax’s room and slamming the door shut and locking it, putting my back against the door as Mrs. Johnson screeches and pounds at the door from the other side. Jax is sitting up in bed, wide eyed and afraid and it kills me I can’t move to him, to comfort him and shield him from whatever horror is happening.

“Hey buddy!” I’m struggling with the door but I have to get him safe.

“Mommy?”

“Listen, Jax. I need you to play a game for me, ok? I need you to get in your favorite hiding spot.”

“Mommy, who’s knocking on the door?”

I dig my heels into the floor, pushing my back harder against the door as Mrs. Johnson continues to pound into it.

“Don’t worry about that, little man. I need you to hide. Can you do that for me? Be silent and wait for me, daddy, or Uncle Joel to come get you. If you do, you win.”

He’s still scared but can sense my urgency and nods while hopping out of bed. “Ok, mommy. Hug first?”

Tears fall down my cheeks and I hope he can’t see them. “Not right now, bud. I really need you to hide and not come out for anything other than daddy or Uncle Joel. Can you do that now, please?”

He studies me for a moment before nodding. “Ok mommy.” He moves to his closet, getting inside and closing the door behind him. I hear him rummaging around, going deep into his favorite hiding place and I pray to whatever is listening that he will stay there, stay safe. Even if….even if I don’t come back.

“Ready bud?” A quiet, muffled “Yes” meets my ears and I choke back a sob. “Ok baby, remember to stay silent, ok? No matter what. Until Daddy or Uncle Joel comes for you. And remember…. I love you bud.”

“I love you too, mommy.”

The sob gets stuck in my throat as Mrs. Johnson heaves herself against the wood of the door. I take a deep breath and open the door, letting Mrs. Johnson clamber into the room, falling onto the floor with the force of her movements. While she’s trying to get up, I grab Jax’s Rangers bat from where it hangs on the wall, my eyes never leaving Mrs. Johnson as she growls and launches herself at me. I push her back with the bat but damn she’s strong, what I can only describe as tendrils coming from her open mouth as if they’re trying to reach out to me. I push her back and she stumbles, hitting the floor and I turn, running out of the door and making a lot of noise as I do. She follows me without hesitation, falling down the stairs but clambering up more quickly than someone her age should do. She chases me around the kitchen island and I pull out all the drawers, knocking everything off the counter onto the floor or at her as she runs after me, growling and screeching. I manage to make it past her and back out the front door, quickly glancing around before running to the backyard of our other neighbor’s house.

Mrs. Johnson bounces back up, running full out after me as I run through 2, 3, 4, 5 backyards, eventually spilling back out onto the street, other people now outside throwing things into cars. New screeches join the one coming from behind me and I run the opposite way down the street, making sure to stay out of the streetlights. I get behind a car and squat down, turning to look where I came from. Mrs. Johnson had chased me for another block down this street, but then a man emerged from the house across that street and she changed course, lunging after him as he screamed, sounds of a scuffle coming from inside his house.

I take a moment, my chest heaving, trying to catch my breath before glancing around. I’m about 3 blocks from our house and I have a choice to make: I can either take the streets, which will be brighter to see by but definitely have a higher chance of running into those…things. Or I can take the backyards, infinitely darker but less likely to run into whatever they are. I hope.

I decide on the latter, taking a couple of deep breaths before glancing around. Seeing no one paying me any mind, I run, back through a few backyards before reaching the end of my street. I turn to duck into the backyard but a movement catches my eye and I’m able to quickly turn as a man falls past me, growling, outstretched hands just barely missing me. I run again, in the opposite direction of my house, trying to keep him away from Jax at least, the man chasing me as I run down the street. The cramp in my side is making me slow, reverberating pain shooting out into the rest of my ribs and I know I can’t keep this up. I spot a semi-truck without its trailer and I head for it, getting a running leap and praying I make it. I manage to get high enough up on the front to pull myself up quickly, but then a hand shoots out and grabs my ankle. I quickly kick out, knocking the man in the face and he goes down, pulling me with him. My back hits the pavement and the air whooshes from my lungs, momentarily stunning me. My vision swims but then he’s on me, his face leaning towards mine, tendrils reaching for me and I put my arms out, and push against him, gluing my mouth shut as he pushes closer to me. Then my hands land on a rock and I grip it, slamming it into the side of his head. He slides off me sideways and I raise the rock again, sitting up and slamming it into his head over and over until he stops moving.

Fuck I hope this doesn’t infect via blood. I really, really hope it doesn’t.

I don’t have time to think about it, my sole focus on getting back to Jax and getting him safe. Even if that means I have to…get rid of myself.

I stand up, glancing around and figuring out where I am, silently moving back towards my house through the backyards, listening closely for any sounds of movement. Thank God I run into no one else, moving around the front of my house and heading inside. I really made a mess in here but hopefully that deters anyone else from coming in. Not that those things really care. I go upstairs and see Jax’s door still open from when Mrs. Johnson chased me out, what feels like days ago. But then I see Jax’s closet door cracked open and it definitely wasn’t open when I left.

“Jax? Jax, it’s Mommy

. Are you still there?” I open the door, holding my breath, tears silently flowing down my cheeks and burning my eyes, praying that I don’t find him here, hurt. But then…he’s not here. I look around the rest of his room. No Jax.

“Jax?” I yell out of his bedroom door, my voice echoing around the upstairs. Nothing. No noise, no movement. I check every room to be sure but find nothing. I’m freaking out, no idea if Tommy or Joel came back and got him or…or.

I can’t think about the or.

I stand in my destroyed kitchen, debating on what to do next, when my eyes land on the table, my backpack on it. Which is definitely not where I left it. I quickly walk over to it, shifting it slightly and that’s when I notice the piece of paper on it with his handwriting.

Tommy’s.

Hey Darlin’,

We’ve got Jax and Sarah. We’re heading to the cabin. We’ll meet you there.

Please be safe. I love you.

Tommy

I clutch the paper and hold it to my chest for several moments, allowing the tears to freely flow as I hold on to the hope that this letter brought me. He’s safe. Jax is safe with his dad. Joel and Sarah too. I wonder if they found Rose….

Snapping my eyes open, I shake my head to clear it of my emotions, carefully folding the note and sliding it into my pocket. I quickly run upstairs and pop into Jax’s room, quickly grabbing his favorite stuffed bunny from his bed where he laid unpacked and forgotten in the hustle to get to safety.

I toss the luggage into my trunk, grabbing my backpack last and tossing it into the passenger seat. I take one last quick glance around, grabbing some photos from the fridge before I manually open the garage door, hopping into the driver’s seat and locking the door and my clicking my seatbelt into place. At the end of my driveway I look back to my house, our house, and allow 1 tear to shed down my cheek as I pull away from the only house that had truly been my home.

I had to re-route myself several times trying to get to the back highway that would eventually lead to the cabin we’d purchased a year or so ago. It seems like a lifetime away with all that’s happened in the last few hours. I stop for no one, my only goal to make it to the cabin to my family. Then we can go from there.

Miraculously, I make it to the nearly hidden drive without a hitch, grateful Tommy had taken us on several back roads so I was more familiar with alternate routes. I hadn’t seen another car or person in at least 2 hours, but that was normal. Most people had closed up their cabins for season after Labor Day, and no one really went down this road aside from random homesteaders or a handful of farmers. I wonder if they’re ok.

I nearly miss the turnoff, stopping quickly and backing up a little to turn between the brush, branches, and twigs snapping at my car. I make the final curve and the cabin pops into view, looking exactly like it had when we left it last.

No lights. No truck.

No Tommy.

I turn off the car, staring at the cabin for several minutes, but nothing happens. No one is here. Or at least, no one noticed I am here. Or made a move about it. Well, there was only one thing to do. I took a deep breath and got out, moving around towards the trunk and getting out the crowbar stashed by the spare tire. I grip it and head towards the cabin, eyes scanning everything to sense movement. I quietly try to turn the handle on the front door, but it remains locked. Sliding the key from my pocket, hands shaking I push it into the lock, hearing the little click it makes as it opens the door. I push it open and stand back, just in case. But the house is still and silent as I poke my head around the corner. I move throughout the cabin, checking all of the rooms. No one is here and, by the looks of it, no one has been here since we were here last. He’s supposed to be here, with Jax, with Joel and Sarah and maybe Rose. Where are they?

The cabin is quiet, eerily silent and I try not to let panic envelop me. They could have had to reroute like me. Maybe they ran out of gas and have to go on foot? I didn’t pass anyone but they could be behind me. Or hiding from the main road. Because regular people were behaving almost worse than those things.

I jump into action, quickly unloading my car into the cabin and parking it in the garage. I take the outside broom, and the shotgun Tommy had kept here, and walk down to the end of the nearly hidden drive, sweeping the tire tracks from the drive. This will help to keep this place hidden, and it’s far enough away from the road that even if all the lights were on and it was dark outside, no one could see us tucked away in the trees. A couple hours later my tracks are hidden and I’ve checked the power grid how Tommy showed me, grateful as fuck to the Joneses for wanting a fully off the grid place and having most of that installed before they sold it to us for practically nothing. I leave the fancy electric metal window coverings on the windows, changing nothing of the cabin’s outward appearance. People were nuts and, as of this moment, I am a woman, completely alone in the middle of nowhere.

Alone.

Everything locked up and lights dimly on, I quickly take a shower and again, thank the Joneses mentally for the solar power they hooked up so I could take this shower and have some light. After, I unpacked our suitcases, hesitating over Jax’s clothes. He usually sleeps in the 3rd bedroom with Sarah. She was officially going to let him have the top bunk this weekend and he was so excited. I start to cry then, pulling out all of his tiny clothes and, instead, folding them and setting them on shelves in our closet. I can always move them into the spare room if he wants it. It’s when I reach Tommy’s suitcase, opening it and getting a whiff of his cologne, his scent permeating my brain that I lose it, officially. Grabbing a shirt of Jax’s and Tommy’s, I lay on the floor and cry, huge heaving sobs until I fall asleep there, clutching each of their shirts to my chest.

They don’t turn up the next day. Or the next. I try to keep myself busy so I pull out all of the bed sheets, fluff them out and put them on the beds. I dust, cleaning everything that was already clean. I take out all of the food I’d brought with me, along with some sustainable things we already had there and take stock. I do the same with the medicine cabinet and first aid kits. Hell, I even dig out the sewing kit and fix the tiny tear on the side of the couch. But by the end of that first week, I could no longer find anything to do inside, my nerves leaving me jumpy at every gust of the wind.

So I go outside. I check over the greenhouse and the root cellar, making note that the self watering system seems to have worked on most of the vegetable plants. Reading my gardening journal, I see that I should plant some things soon, so I pull out my little box of seeds and get to work, planting what needs done both in the greenhouse and the root cellar. This takes me nearly another full week, as I decided to clean it up a bit and reorganize things.

2 weeks and still nothing. No one.

I wasn’t running out of food per say, but I knew adding 5 more mouths to feed would bring us to the end of our stores pretty quick. So I tried my hand at fishing, which was not really my forte. I did manage to catch a couple, but I would need a lot more than a couple small/medium fish. Well, practice makes at least better, which is what I tell myself as I work at it for the next few days, eventually getting a little better and finding a better spot to fish from. I had found a homesteading book on the shelf that showed me how to prepare fish, so I followed that and froze a bunch, hoping this would at least help when they showed up.

I never strayed far from the cabin, afraid that if I did, they would show up and leave, assuming I wasn’t there. I didn’t want to miss them again and every time I thought about how I had missed them back in Austin, I wanted to cry and scream and throw things. I really wasn’t sure what to do other than what I was doing - preparing and waiting. I had no idea where they were, or if they were… no, they were alive. I could feel it. But even if I wanted to go find them, where would I start? The more I thought on this, the less I knew, driving every possible route in my head but nothing with a clear path to finding them.

5 weeks. Well, almost 5 weeks. Still alone.

His scent is fading from his clothes, the flannel I kept with me and hold at night barely smelling like him. I had put others in storage bags, hoping that I would only have to pull them out to give them to Jax and Tommy and not just so I could smell them and feel, just for a moment, like they are here.

I pull Tommy’s flannel top tighter around me, shifting the covers a little higher on my shoulders when I hear it - an engine.

I sit bolt upright, my ears straining to listen to what was obviously getting closer. I hadn’t heard anything since I came here, not even a truck passing on the road. I hop out of bed and quickly grab the shotgun, my heart racing along with my brain, the many possibilities of who is out there swirling around enough to drive me crazy. I shake my head a little and look out of the peep hole in the front door. A car pulls up slowly, not one I recognize. The sun was just rising, not enough light to see inside the vehicle. If it were bad people, surely they would’ve brought a truck? Maybe not. But then the side door opens, and a mop of black curls gets out of the backseat and my heart stops, breath seizing my lungs as the person straightens out, gripping a shotgun in his hands as he turns towards the cabin and a sob ripples through me as I rip open the door, standing there for a moment in utter shock as my eyes lay on him. My other half, the love of my life.

Tommy.

>>Chapter 8>>

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

#tommy miller #gabriel luna #The last of us #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x female reader #tommy miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlouff #the last of us fanfic #gabriel luna x reader #gabriel luna x you #gabriel luna characters character fanfic #gabriel luna character ff #gabriel luna character fanfiction

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magz · 4 months

Text

Palestine Summary May 25 to June 6, 2024. From LetsTalkPalestine.

Related Helpful Links: [LetsTalkPalestine Links (including vetted information sources)] [gazafunds.com] [eSims for Gaza] [UNRWA] [Decolonize Palestine, learning basics and debunking myths]

Summary Quote:

May 25, 2024.

Day 232

‼️🔻 Hamas announces it took new Israeli soldiers as prisoners after a battle in Jabalia camp which left several soldiers dead and injured — a clear sign that the resistance’s capabilities are still intact

•⁠ 46 Palestinians killed, 130 injured in Gaza in last 24 hours

🩺 20,000+ Palestinians in Gaza w/ severe diseases blocked from receiving treatment abroad since Israel seized Rafah crossing

•⁠ @ euromedhr documented 42 forms of torture by Israeli forces against Palestinian captives since Oct 7 incl. breaking bones, threats of rape, electric shocks & forced nudity

🏫 Israeli forces massacre 10+ people & injure 17 in attack on elementary school in Jabalia sheltering hundreds. They were bombed as people were filling up water & kids playing outside. Invasion of Jabalia has blocked water & food for 17 days & attacks on north Gaza have escalated

•⁠ Israeli forces bombed home in Beit Hanoon (north Gaza) killing 10 people incl. 5 kids

🇮🇹 Italy to resume @ unrwa funding of $5.4m

May 26, 2024.

[Instagram news video post link]

🚨 RAFAH MASSACRE 🚨

A couple of hours ago, the Israeli military massacred at least 35 Palestinians, mostly women & children, injuring dozens more causing amputations & severe burns. Death toll likely to rise. Israel targeted tents housing displaced people in designated safe area of northwest Rafah with seven 2,000-pound bombs that engulfed the area in flames, burning people alive. These are Palestinians already displaced, under siege and deprived of water, food, medicine & electricity

Horrifying footage and images have emerged of beheaded children and charred bodies burned beyond recognition. One survivor testified that “the tents are melting and the people’s bodies are also melting”

Gaza’s health systems are on the verge of collapse with limited medical supplies & fuel due to Israel’s aid blockade. Rafah's only operating hospital, Kuwaiti Hospital, has no ICU unit & faces fuel shortage + no fuel for ambulances to transfer the injured to field hospitals

Israel bombed Rafah 60+ times in the last 48 hours since the ICJ ordered it halt its invasion of Rafah. With no bounds to its impunity, Israel has made it clear there's no 'red line' on what horrors it will inflict on Palestinians. Our ruling class has deemed the massacre of Palestinians acceptable.

Israel is burning Palestinians alive.

May 26 part 2.

Day 233

‼️ Israel has already bombed shelters housing displaced Palestinians in other areas incl. Jabalia, Nuseirat & Gaza City, killing at least 160 in past weeks

•⁠ ⁠81 Palestinians killed, 223 injured in Gaza in last 24 hours

🔻 Hamas launched 8 rockets at Tel Aviv yesterday for 1st time in 6 months from Rafah. Its capacity to launch long-range projectiles after 7 months of genocide shocked Israel as many assumed Hamas’ capabilities were degraded

•⁠ Israel attacked homes, killing several & injuring many in north Gaza. 12+ Palestinians killed in attack on Jabalia amid ongoing invasion

🚚 200 aid trucks, 4 w/ fuel, meant to enter Gaza via Karem Abu Salem crossing from Egypt but none came in

•⁠ ⁠Israeli forces raid Jenin days after the raid that killed 12 Palestinians, this time abducting 2 Palestinians. Israeli bulldozers demolish infrastructure & IOF snipers on rooftops. Clashes w/ local resistance fighters as they strike Israeli tanks w/ homemade explosives

May 27

Day 234

‼️ Total Gaza death toll surpasses 36,000, not including an estimated 10,000 buried under rubble

🇳🇴🇪🇸🇮🇪 Norway says recognition of Palestinian state is part of “Oslo Accords 2.0”, a ‘neutral’ ‘both sides’ approach to ‘conflict in the Middle East’. For context on Oslo Accords, see our post: (instagram post link)

🏥 Rafah Kuwaiti Hospital forced to shut down due to Israel targeted & killed 2 medical staff & expanding Rafah invasion that’s overwhelming health facilities

• Israel continues bombing Rafah after last night tent massacre that killed 45, today targeting a home killing & injuring several in south Rafah + a residence in west Rafah

🇪🇬 Firing between Egyptian soldiers & IOF soldiers at Rafah crossing killed 1 Egyptian soldier, details unclear. Likely to escalate ongoing tense political relations

• Israeli strike on Gaza City killed 5+ incl. pregnant mom & her kid

• IOF shot & killed 14 y/o Palestinian boy in Hebron (West Bank) after blocking ambulance

May 28, 2024.

Image: map of Rafah, "designated safe area", and blocked passages.

Day 235

🇵🇸 Rafah updates:

‼️ Israeli invasion expands, tanks reach central Rafah after flattening east Rafah where invasion began

‼️ Another tent massacre in “safe area” al-Mawasi which Israel told people in Rafah to flee to, killing 21 people

‼️ Israel bombs western Rafah, forcing Indonesian field hospital, Kuwaiti Hospital & Emirati field hospital to shut down. Heavy shelling of Tal as-Sultan area kills 16+ including an attack on tents that killed 7

Other updates:

•⁠ 46 Palestinians killed, 110 injured in Gaza in last 24 hours

🇺🇸 After Rafah massacre, Biden admin insists Israeli invasion is just a limited operation + Israel is “investigating” the massacre + Biden won’t change policies

•⁠ North Gaza: Israel bombs al-Faluja area despite troop withdrawal & people starting to return to homes. Israeli airstrikes kill 6 including a doctor near Kamal Adwan Hospital

🇮🇪🇳🇴🇪🇸 Ireland, Norway & Spain recognize Palestine (limited to West Bank & Gaza). Israel condemns

•⁠ Israeli settlers stab a Palestinian father & son near Hebron (West Bank)

🔻 Israel: 13 IOF soldiers injured in Gaza in past 24 hours

May 29

Day 236

‼️ Israel escalated Rafah invasion by taking “operational control” of the buffer zone along Gaza-Egypt border + tanks push into central Rafah & Tal as-Sultan (west of Rafah)

•⁠ 75 Palestinians killed, 284 Palestinians injured in Gaza in the last 24 hours

•⁠ Israeli bombardment across Rafah & “safe zone” al-Mawasi, killing 21 today, incl. 2 paramedics in targeted bombing of ambulance

•⁠ @ wckitchen halts food distribution in Rafah due to Israeli attacks

⚖️ For 9 years, ex-head of Israel’s Mossad pressured ICC to abandon investigation into Israeli crimes via blackmail, intimidation, stalking & threatening ICC prosecutors & their families

•⁠ Internal IOF probe reveals 2 Palestinian hostages from Gaza killed by Israeli soldiers beating them to death

🇺🇸 US-made bombs were used in Israel’s Rafah tent massacre that killed 45

🔻 3 IOF soldiers killed, 3 injured in south Gaza by detonated explosive

🇲🇽⚖️ Mexico submits request to join South Africa’s ICJ genocide case against Israel

May 30

(Instagram news video post)

Day 237

‼️ Israeli forces raid Ramallah (West Bank) firing live ammunition & tear gas at vegetable market erupting in fire & spread to nearby shopping mall, destroying hundreds of stalls & businesses, causing $2m+ losses. Israeli forces shot & injured 5 Palestinians, killed 1

•⁠ ⁠53 Palestinians killed, 357 Palestinians injured in Gaza in last 24 hours

•⁠ Palestinians return to mass destruction of Jabalia in north Gaza (🎥👆) after 20-day brutal invasion as Israeli forces withdraw to east

•⁠ Rafah: Israeli bombing kills 12 Palestinians + causes telecoms blackout

🔻 Clashes between Hamas & IOF in Beit Lahiya (north) & southern Rafah. Hamas struck 5 IOF tanks & killed 1 soldier, injured 3

•⁠ North Gaza: Israeli airstrike on shelter killed 7; attack on home in Beit Hanoon killed 9; Israeli snipers executed 3 in Gaza City

🔻 2 Israeli soldiers killed by car ramming resistance operation near Nablus (West Bank)

•⁠ Israeli forces raid Jenin (West Bank) injuring 6 Palestinians by gunfire as bulldozers demolish roads & property

May 31

Image: Map of Gaza, "A Third of Gaza has been made uninhabitable".

Day 238

🔻 IOF withdraws from areas in north Gaza: Israeli forces withdraw from Tall az-Zaatar, Beit Lahiya & Beit Hanoon, and 2/3 brigades withdraw from Jabalia as Hamas continues “most intense” fighting so far in all of Gaza w/ 1 IOF brigade. Hamas expected to rebuild in Jabalia after withdrawal

🔻 2 IOF soldiers killed in Gaza, 1 seriously injured

•⁠ 60 Palestinians killed, 280 injured in Gaza in last 24 hours

•⁠ 70 bodies found after 20-day Jabalia invasion incl. 30 from 1 family. Many still under rubble. 70% of infrastructure & 1,000 homes completely destroyed

🇺🇸 Biden endorsed 3-phase plan that would lead to ‘permanent ceasefire’, said Israel agreed to it despite being very similar to deals it rejected. Earlier Hamas said it wont partake in any more negotiations during the genocide but now ready for a complete agreement & to ‘engage positively’

🇫🇷 France’s arms fair bans Israeli companies from partaking

🇱🇧 Israeli attack on south Lebanon killed medic

•⁠ Israel taking over 32% of Gaza’s land by demolishing neighborhoods to create buffer zone & axis dividing Gaza in half (📸👆). Which doesn’t include its control of Gaza-Egypt border region

June 1.

Day 239

•⁠ 95 Palestinians killed, 350 injured in Gaza in last 24 hours

•⁠ Netanyahu insists “Hamas destruction” is Israel’s main objective, undermining Biden’s ceasefire plan. Israeli ministers Ben-Gvir & Smotrich agree, threaten to topple Netanyahu’s gov’t if he accepts Biden’s deal

🏥 Only 1 partially functioning field hospital in Rafah, providing only basic services; Israel’s invasion forced all other hospitals to shut

•⁠ 13 y/o killed by malnutrition & dehydration, total death toll by malnutrition rises to 37. Israel’s aid blockade to soon subject south Gaza to levels of forced starvation in north Gaza

•⁠ Gaza City (north): Heavy Israeli shelling all day; journalist Ola al-Dahdouh killed by airstrike; attack on school turned shelter killed 2

🇨🇱⚖️ Chile to join South Africa’s ICJ case against Israel

•⁠ West Bank: IOF clashes w/ Palestinian resistance fighters while raiding Jenin, Balata & Kafr Dan. IOF abducted several, bulldozed infrastructure + shot & injured 3 in Balata

June 2.

Day 240

•⁠ 60 Palestinians killed, 220 injured in Gaza in last 24 hours

•⁠ 50 more bodies found in Jabalia after 20-day Israeli invasion, total number found 120, as dozens remain missing under rubble

🇲🇻 Maldives first to ban Israeli passport holders entry

•⁠ West Bank: 15-year- old Palestinian shot & killed during Israeli raid near Jericho

•⁠ Israeli forces continue shelling of Rafah killing 2 in East Rafah & causing severe destruction

🔻 Hamas attacked IOF bulldozer in Rafah

🇱🇧⁠ Israeli airstrike killed 2 in south Lebanon. Hezbollah recently heavily damaged IOF army base + shot down IOF drone + rockets cause fires in settlement in Israeli-occupied Golan Heights

•⁠ Israeli attacks on car in central Gaza killed 7. Another attack killed 3+, incl. a woman & her infant

🇳🇱 Netherlands hasn’t transferred F-35 fighter jet parts to Israel since Feb court ruling banning transfers; Dutch gov’t is appealing

•⁠ West Bank: IOF abducts 81 Palestinians in past week

June 3.

Day 241

•⁠ 40 Palestinians killed, 150 injured in Gaza in past 24 hours

‼️ Israeli forces & tanks advance into eastern Khan Younis (south) & Gaza City (north) w/ heavy gunfire & shelling. Khan Younis now a ‘hub’ for displaced Palestinians after Rafah invasion forcibly displaced 1m+

🇵🇸⚖️ Palestinian Authority to join South Africa’s ICJ case against Israel

•⁠ West Bank: IOF shot & killed 3 Palestinians, injured 6 amid raid of Nablus. 2 Palestinians shot & killed near Tulkarem

•⁠ 22 killed in overnight Israeli attacks on homes in Khan Younis & Rafah. Tents in Khan Younis flooded by sewage after pipeline burst

🇺🇸 2 US officials resigned against US policy on Gaza Genocide last week

•⁠ Israeli strikes on Bureij camp (central Gaza) killed 14+ today, incl. 3 kids

🇺🇸 Pro-Palestine protestors occupied Israeli consulate in San Francisco, police arrested 70+

•⁠ About 55% of Gaza’s buildings destroyed, damaged or possibly damaged + north Gaza’s Deir Balah & Gaza City most destroyed

June 4.

(Instagram post about slovenia and palestine)

Day 242

‼️⁠ Israel launches re-invasion of central Gaza, housing 1.7m displaced Palestinians who mostly fled Rafah. Israeli troops & tanks push into Bureij camp (in Deir el-Balah) trapping Palestinians & blocking ambulances. Relentless shelling & bombardment of central Gaza, killing 16+ people in Bureij & Maghazi camps

•⁠ 71 Palestinians killed, 182 injured in Gaza in last 24 hours

🔻 Hamas attacks on IOF: targeting command center & troops in central Gaza. Fired 100+ rockets at IOF soldiers in Rafah + targeted 2 tanks. Ambushed 12+ IOF soldiers in Gaza City (north Gaza)

🇸🇮⁠ Slovenia officially recognizes State of Palestine as part of 2-state solution vision; for context + analysis read 👆

•⁠ West Bank: Israeli forces close off Jericho for 2nd day, blocking only crossing to Jordan w/ military checkpoints & barricades + stopping Palestinians from leaving & entering the city

🇱🇧⁠ Tensions rise as Hezbollah strikes spark fires near Israeli colonies near Lebanon. Israeli strikes escalate, killing 1 Hezbollah fighter today + injuring 16 kids over the weekend

June 5.

Day 243

‼️ 1m+ Palestinians in Gaza may face severe famine by mid-July due to Israel blocking aid; increase from estimated 677,000 in March

•⁠ 36 Palestinians killed, 115 injured in Gaza yesterday

🇺🇸 NYT: Israel launched $2m social media campaign w/ fake accounts to influence US (esp Black) lawmakers to support genocide

‼️ Central Gaza: Amid IOF re-invasion of overcrowded Bureij camp in Deir el-Balah, IOF abducted many Palestinians incl. women from home. Heavy bombing of central Gaza today killed 70+ & injured 300, mostly women & kids. Many flee to overcrowded Al-Aqsa Hospital which is under Israeli aid blockade

🇺🇸 US House passed bill to sanction ICC officials who investigate/prosecute Israelis. Backed by 42 Dems

•⁠ Escalation of bombing of Gaza City (north): attack on Remal neighborhood killed 4 + shelling of nearby Tal al-Hawa, Sheikh Ijlin & injured 7 in Zeitoun

🔻 10 IOF soldiers injured in Gaza in past 24 hours

•⁠ IOF shot 3 Palestinians + abducted 9 in Jenin (West Bank)

June 6.

Day 244

🚨 Central Gaza: Large massacre in UNRWA school shelter in Nuseirat killing 40+ incl. 9 kids + injured 74+ Happened as ongoing invasion of nearby al-Bureij & bombing of region, killing/injuring several in AlZawayda & Deir el-Balah

•⁠ 68 Palestinians killed, 235 injured in Gaza in past 24 hours

‼️🔻⁠ Hamas fighters break out of Gaza via Karem Abu Salem crossing near Rafah, drop behind enemy lines, attack IOF command HQ

🔻 Hamas: 5 IOF soldiers killed in Rafah tunnel explosion. 24 IOF soldiers injured in past 24 hours (16 in Gaza)

🇪🇸 Spain to join South Africa ICJ genocide case

🇺🇸 US sanctions Lion’s Den (local West Bank resistance group) likely balancing sanctions on Israeli settlers/groups

•⁠ IOF abduct 60 Palestinians in 1 of largest 2024 West Bank abductions

🇱🇧⁠ Israeli strike kills 1, injures 1 in Lebanon. Hezbollah strike kills 1 IOF soldier

•⁠ Jenin: IOF kill 3 Palestinians, injure 16 & fire at paramedics

•⁠ ⁠IOF demolish 7 homes near Hebron (West Bank) displacing 50+

#on palestine #text post #o post #described #magz upload #palestine #letstalkpalestine

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