#this got longer than I intended but what else is new

[pianokantzart]

The Super Mario Bros. Redux (Pt. 6)

What would happen if, in The Super Mario Bros. Movie, after Mario and Luigi are separated, Mario was the one who ended up in the clutches of Luigi’s eventual arch nemesis, while Luigi teamed up with some of his own close allies to go rescue him? (This part of the story is in one shot format. Most other parts are written in bullet points.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 ________

A short summary of the things Luigi had done in the past twenty four hours that he had never expected to do in his entire life:

Fall into an interdimensional wormhole. Fight a warrior princess in a crowded arena. Become a royally acclaimed ghost hunter. Enlist in an army assembled to ambush the territory ruled by The King of Ghosts in order to rescue hostages and bring balance to the afterlife. Adopt a dog.

... Though it was more accurate to say the dog adopted him. Normally Luigi had trouble with animals– he could never read their body language, and his clumsiness made for bad first impressions. The few animals he got along with in the past were old and quiet, wanting nothing more than a warm lap on which to lay their head. Polterpup was different; playful and energetic, mischievous yet patient. Luigi couldn’t help but wonder what was the reason behind the attachment– if he himself resembled an old master or friend from the dog’s past life before it became a ghost. It still wore a collar, though the little golden loop on the front had no tag. The collar was bright red, almost a perfect match to Mario’s favorite color. "Heh, you’re just as good at getting into trouble as Mario, too,” Luigi added with a somber smile, kneeling down to oblige the ghost dog’s less-than-subtle plea for belly rubs until it disappeared again, as was its habit. Polterpup tended to suddenly poof in and out of thin air with little warning, and though it seemed to be at random at first, Luigi began to realize the dog mostly came to him when he was feeling alone, which was more often than not as of late. Every new experience, every strange encounter, every unexpected victory made Luigi wish more and more that his brother was around to take part. Hardly a second passed without him wondering what he was doing at that moment, and if he was okay.

Unfortunately, his occupied mind made him a less-than-helpful assistant to E. Gadd. The professor had warned earlier that he had always preferred working alone. The result was a very low tolerance level for “tomfoolery,” as he described it, and it wasn’t long before Luigi’s shaky attempts to help attach upgrades to The Poltergust caused the scientist to lose his patience. One shoddy wire-soldering job later, Luigi found himself being forcibly pushed toward the exit by the surprisingly strong old man. “Go. Shoo. Distract yourself with something else.”

“Like what?” Luigi asked, digging his heels. “What do I do? Where do I go?”

“How about you see the princess?”

“Princess Daisy?”

Luigi lingered in the doorway. The professor adjusted his glasses, and pointed down one of the castle hallways. “Yep! She’s in the greenhouse. I’m sure she could use the company. You two seem to get along well enough.”

“We do?” Luigi placed his hand against his cheek, thinking over their last interactions. They had exchanged blows, but worked together in the end to defeat Boolossus. She had held his hand up as the victor, but she had also toyed with him in a way that made it clear that she knew how weak he truly was. He liked her, that much he knew, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything more to do with him, and furthermore she had a power and confidence to her that intimidated him beyond her status as the daughter of four kings. “I don’t know. I mean, we did make a pretty good team, but she’s royalty! I don’t know anything about how to approach royalty. Do I bow? Or–”

“You’ll be fine,” The Professor assured, only half paying attention as he returned to his work, burying himself back into the open hatch of a large machine.

In the end, Luigi did as he was told. The greenhouse was easy enough to find. As large as the Birabuto Palace was, its corridors were open and easy to navigate, and the guards were surprisingly helpful in giving directions despite their shaky first-encounters.

Finding the large doors to the greenhouse, marked by limestone imitations of crawling vines carved into the archway, Luigi gathered his determination and pushed them open. The first thing that struck him was a wall of glacial cold– a shocking surprise, and the opposite of what he expected from a greenhouse, but this discomfort was immediately undercut by the beauty of the surrounding foliage. The flowers, sparkling with a brilliant, incandescent blue, sprouted from planter boxes and large pots all around in blooms and buds. He thought for a moment that surely they were beautifully-crafted plastic or silicon, but pinching a large leaf between the fingers of his gloves he found they felt as real as any common dandelion. The second thing that struck him was the night sky, clearly visible through the glass walls and ceiling. He had never in his life seen so many stars, and for all his love of science and space he could not recognize a single constellation, which served as an unsettling, but ultimately breathtaking reminder of how far from home truly he was.

“Oh! Hey!”

Luigi jumped and let out a surprised squeak when Daisy emerged from behind a stack of pots to greet him. Her cheeks were tinted pink from the cold, and in her right arm she held a large sack of powdery-white fertilizer that she was distributing between the plants. She laughed at his reaction, but it carried no hint of condescension, just friendly amusement. “I was hoping I’d see you again before we invaded Evershade Valley!” she called, waving him over. “Luigi, was it?”

Luigi approached while holding his hat to his chest, shuddering a bit as the chill bit at the edges of his ears. “Yes, Your Highness.” Daisy once more laughed her friendly, good-natured laugh. “None of that. Just Daisy. No ‘Miss’ or ‘Ma’am’ either. If you’ve gotta be formal, call me Princess Daisy.” Luigi, feeling a little more at ease, put his hat back on his head. “Yes, Princess Daisy.” She gave a nod of approval, then went back to work fertilizing the long rows of plants. “So,” she asked, “What can I help you with, big guy?” “I, er…” Luigi suddenly realized he had failed to come up with a proper reason before arriving here. He couldn’t very well say the professor kicked him out of the lab for being inept, but before he could think of an excuse his attention was re-seized by the plants. Curiosity overcame him to the point that he forgot his worries, and he once more brushed his hand against the leaf of the nearest flower. “Are these where your ice powers came from? In The Battle Stadium?” “Of course! I’m pretty good with a powerup, huh?” Daisy said proudly, “Normally I favor the elephant fruit, but today I decided to switch things up.” “Elephant fruit? There’s other magical plants?” The princess stiffened. Luigi was worried for a moment that he had accidentally said something offensive, but she retained her genuine smile as she set the sack of fertilizer down and placed her hands on her hips. “Wow, you’re really not from around here, are you.” Before Luigi could answer, she walked up and wrapped a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Suppose I should’ve known. Humans aren’t native to this world. The professor is one of, like, two other humans I know. Do you know E. Gadd? Is he your uncle or something?” “I– uh, no. We just met yesterday.” “Let me guess: you're lost." "Well... yes..." "And he said he'd only get you home if you help him.” “What!?” “He’s the kind of guy to pull a stunt like that if he thinks it’s for the greater good.” Daisy explained, holding Luigi a bit closer in a show of sympathy. “You don’t have to do this, you know, you could go home anytime you like. I’ll vouch for you!” Despite the friendly intention behind these words, Luigi felt a lump form in his throat. He slipped out from under The Princess’ side-hug, and stared up at her with a troubled look. “Do you… want me to leave?” Daisy bristled. Her cheeks reddened as she shook her head and waved her hands in dismay. “No! No no no of course not! I think you’re great! It’s just…” She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck.

Luigi, surprised by this rare show of nervousness, patiently waited with bated breath for her to gather her thoughts, and after a few seconds she continued, quieter than before. “It’s just that I keep thinking about what you said in the arena. You seemed like a guy who had a lot to lose. You weren’t in it for glory or the fun of the fight, you were just scared and… I don’t know… I felt bad for you. Still do.” At this, Luigi gained a slight smile, shyly burying his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Heh, don’t worry. I gotta learn how to not be scared all the time, y'know?” It didn’t take long before he realized what he said– whose words he was echoing. The gravity of the situation quickly crashed back down on him, robbing him of that small moment of comfort. It was evident by the look on Daisy’s face that she had seen the change in his expression, so Luigi went ahead and explained his predicament before she could ask: “It’s my brother, Mario. We both fell through a warp pipe. I ended up in your kingdom but he ended up in Evershade Valley.”

Daisy cocked her head, the gears turning behind her eyes as everything she had witnessed about the plumber's manner up until now came together in her mind. “Oh. I see.”

“It was my fault. I fell into the warp pipe, and he jumped in after me, and– I… I can’t just leave him.” Luigi heard his own voice crack and felt tears beginning to form in his eyes. Despite this he kept going, the pent up emotions of the past twenty four hours running rampant, unable to be reigned in. “It’s not that I don’t trust anyone else to save him, but I gotta make sure he’s okay! We’ve never been apart this long… and I-... I miss him.” Tears began streaming freely, the cold air burning them into long lines down Luigi’s cheeks. He turned away, struggling to wipe his eyes with the back of his glove. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.”

Luigi saw a glimmer of white fabric in the corner of his vision. Turning, he saw the princess holding a flower-embroidered handkerchief out to him. He accepted, and dried his eyes. He tried to hand it back, but she was already returning to the flowers, plucking up a set of pruning shears as she went. “I’ve never known a good fighter that didn’t have big emotions brewing under the surface,” she assured. “But don’t you worry, after the way we saved my dads, saving you brother should be no sweat!...” Luigi, hearing a light snip of closing shears, saw Princess Daisy remove one of the ice flowers at its base between where the leaves connected to the soil. Despite being cut off from its roots the plant remained as lively as ever. It almost looked to be dancing happily in her hands as she delivered it back to Luigi.

“...and when you do save him, give him this.” She said, holding out the offering. “If Mario’s anything like you, he’s not going to want to be defenseless, and ice magic is the one of the few things that can combat boos besides your Poltergust.” Luigi smiled. He reached out and took the flower into his hands. He was surprised to find it wasn’t particularly chilly to the touch– clearly the coldness of the room was for the sake of cultivating the plants, not the effect of the flowers themselves. “You seem to really know a lot.” He mused aloud, pressing the gift to his chest. “But… you said humans aren’t native to this world. Where did you come from, then?” He stopped suddenly, realizing the personal nature of what he asked. He searched Daisy’s face for some sign of disapproval, but was relieved to see her smiling just as brightly as before. “Ha! I wish I had an answer to your question!” She laughed, “Dragonzamasu says I hatched from an orange egg that appeared suddenly in a field of flowers. Biokinton says he found me curled up in a bassinet hitched to a shooting star. Hiyoihoi says he found me locked in a gemstone at the center of the oldest mountain in Sarasaland. But I’m more inclined to buy Totomesu’s story.”

“What’s Totomesu’s story?” Daisy’s smile wavered. Luigi wondered once again if he misstepped, but this time easily brushed the thought aside, trusting by now that the princess would let him know if he had done something wrong. She turned away, staring up at the stars through the glass wall of the greenhouse, and Luigi placed himself at the her side, watching the stars in tandem until Daisy finally broke the silence and answered his question: “He found me at the mouth of a warp pipe, barely old enough to crawl and completely terrified. Sometimes I think I still remember that day… as much as I prefer to believe that I hatched from an egg.”

There was such an odd sadness to her voice that Luigi felt an impulse to reach out and reassuringly take her hand, though he had enough common sense to refrain from such an intimate gesture. All the same, he wanted to say something comforting. “I don’t mind that you didn’t hatch from an egg.” He heard himself blurt out.

Daisy shot him a confused look, and Luigi nervously scrambled to explain himself. “What I mean is… hey, you were a baby, y’know? Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re already so cool, you can’t be cool every moment of your life, and most babies aren’t cool! And… uh…” Daisy started to laugh. Luigi turned red, but felt a little better now that she was smiling again, even more so when he felt the princess affectionately nudging his shoulder. “Haha! I get it big guy, I get what you're saying!”

Luigi laughed too, in spite of himself.

“Speaking of ‘cool,’” Daisy went on, “I'm freezing!” She rubbed at her arms in a display of discomfort. Luigi, too, was suddenly reminded of just how cold he was. By now the low temperature had seeped all the way through his clothes and skin, triggering a powerful shiver that ran through his core, which was soon soothed as the princess wrapped an arm around him, and pressed him close. “Tell me, Luigi, do you have hot chocolate in your world?”

“I love hot chocolate!”

“Perfect!” With her arm still tightly wrapped around the plumber, Daisy eagerly led him to the egress of the greenhouse. “Let’s get us some good old-fashioned creature comforts before we fight some ghosts!”

"Heh. Yeah. Let's-a-go!" Luigi said, forcing enthusiasm, thankful that he had the cold as an excuse for his uncontrollable shivering.

[ekingston]

I was gonna be cheeky and ask for 10 and 19 again BUT I shall resist that urge… for now.

I will be sneaky (critical failure) and ask for three (I lied) 28. 30. And 37.

And what the hell, everyone should be proud of their work/s so a 33. (Feel free to pick a couple if this is just asking for a lot - I feel like it is 😅)

I feel like I’m order takeout or reading lotto number here

haha thank you! and the bonus number is…

Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

today i’m reminding myself to practice mindfulness! and not in the sense of breathing exercises or lengthy meditation sessions (although I’m sure those have their benefits too) but by making myself be in the present, paying attention to all of my senses, and remembering that my characters would do the same. you’ll need that material to fill in the little details that draw the reader into your work, that tricky thing that makes them feel like they can’t just see it, but like they’re actually there. life is a sensual experience, and i think our stories should reflect that!

Describe a fic that almost happened, but then didn’t.

this got long, so…

i once scribbled down a dream i had that was a sort of trippy time travel/repeating day type of thing, where Lena was part of a small crew of criminals that used Lena’s tech to travel back in time to aid them with their heists. they would simply rewind time over and over, taking note of the details, learning every possible outcome, eliminating obstacles along the way, practicing the motions often enough to nail the final, perfect execution.

the first scene was a very bloody one, and i came in right in the middle of it, not understanding how Lena and her people could be so callous about the people laying bleeding and dying at their feet, especially because Kara was one of them. Lena’s crew just kept saying they’d ‘fix that next time’, like some sort of cryptic mantra.

in the dream Lena ended up looking for Kara in every run through, charming her in a thousand different ways, always the same, Kara falling for her every time. there were a few rewinds that took her back so far that Kara was still a child, immediately smitten but completely lost on earth, abandoned and alone, and Lena lobbied hard to make sure her crew fixed that, too, even when it meant Lena would never meet her again.

i saw Lena’s crew running down a dark alley over and over again, at least one of their crew dead or dying, at least one other gravely hurt. Kara turned out to be the reason their plan failed every single time. Lena ended up having to turn against her team to save her before they could eliminate her from their timeline completely.

in the end Lena lay dying in child-Kara’s arms, telling her ‘we’ll fix it next time.’ this was when she’d finally discovered Kara wasn’t human. the line i woke up with was Lena telling Kara to promise her, ‘if you figure it out someday—fly up’. the theory being, i think, that if Kara somehow were to fly high enough, fast enough, she’d achieve the same effect Lena did with her tech, and Kara could go back to save Lena instead.

my dreams get pretty elaborate, but they rarely come with as tidy of a plot as this one did, so i bet it already exists somewhere.

Do you research before writing or while you write? Is it fun or boring for you?

i don’t feel i write the kind of stuff that requires a lot of research and that’s probably a good thing! because i will go down absolutely every rabbit hole the internet has to offer when i do and zero writing will get done. my longform WIP TFOT has been brewing since—let me check—December 11, 2022 (thanks @mooosicaldreamz) and i’ve written less than 20k words, including my outline. instead i have spent my time working on it ‘studying’ veterinary medicine, learning about sustainable agriculture, planning trips to Wyoming and wondering alongside Paula Cole where all the cowboys have gone.

Give your writing a compliment.

i can’t tell you how happy it makes me when people tell me i managed to write something that made them laugh out loud. several times even! sometimes waking up their loved ones or startling strangers! i love that so much.

[brightwoods]

Okay, I’m gonna spoil a little. I’ll leave the how Jesse factors into things with the other characters out of this, but I will give a little backstory on him for the 10tihay fic and how his situation works with the whole everyone is an ordinary human thing

Rupert died from anaphylactic shock and Tatiana was already not really the same after that, but she wasn't totally isolating herself off in a corner yet. She didn't socialize with like anybody outside of her direct family, but Jesse used to be allowed around his cousins when they were all very little as long as Will and his kids weren’t involved (since she already hated Will from the whole reading her diary out loud and making fun of her crush on him when they were kids thing)

She was already starting to retreat into herself so she didn't talk a whole lot to them and lots of the time she'd drop Jesse off to go play and come back to pick him up after their playdate so she wouldn't have to put up with anyone bothering her with their concern or saying anything that would remind her about the fact that Rupert was dead when she was trying to live in denial

She also had a thing about not letting Jesse play outside like ever because Rupert was allergic to bee stings and now she's certain that going outside is a horrifying threat to them all. And Gideon and Gabriel tried to talk her out of the whole never let Jesse spend any time outside thing over and over again, but she was adamant and they went along with that rule even though they didn't agree with it because they understood that the fear is coming from a place of trauma

But then one day, little toddler Jesse was over at Gideon's house and there was a bee in the house and Jesse got stung and nearly died from anaphylactic shock. And Tatiana was furious and so sure that Gideon had carelessly taken Jesse outside and ignored her rules and she's ranting on and on about how she never should have left Jesse alone with him. And even though Gideon and Sophie were the reason he got to the hospital in time and survived, Tatiana had lost all trust in them both

She blamed Gideon and refused to believe that it could have possibly been anything other than intentional, even though no one had even known that he shared Rupert's allergy before that point and even if they had, they couldn't have prevented what happened

And she went on and on about how Gideon had done it because he didn't want his child to be the only sickly one and Sophie got furious, but Tatiana wasn't listening to a word of either of them's explanations. She already hated them both and didn't trust either and she made a point of telling them how not only would she never leave Jesse alone with either of them ever again, she was never letting him around Gideon or his family again at all

And when Gabriel tried to talk her down and explain how it was clearly a horrible accident and how at least now they knew about the allergy and Jesse could have an epi-pen for if it ever happened again, Tatiana just hated him too. Him talking about the idea of a next time just made her mistrust him more and she decided he must either be in on it or willfully blind to what was going on and taking Gideon’s side over hers like she thought he always did. And either way, she hated him too and didn’t trust him around her child anymore

She didn’t really trust anyone around Jesse anymore and she certainly wasn't going to let anyone else supervise him anymore. And she really wasn't going to let him outside anymore, even to go from place to place. They both became hermits even more than before

She moved away with Jesse shortly after that and her family only found out when Gabriel stopped by to try to check on Jesse and see if Tatiana would answer the door this time, only to find that she'd sold her house

Jesse grew up not allowed outside and not even allowed to so much as crack a window open for some fresh air. He was bored out of his mind and lonely and complained about not being allowed out of the house and instead of loosening up her rules, Tatiana took in Grace not so much as a daughter as for someone to keep locked up with Jesse to keep him from getting too bored and so that he hopefully would be occupied enough that he wouldn't take it upon himself to bend the rules

Gabriel and Gideon haven't seen Jesse since he was at the hospital after the incident and they have no idea that Tatiana has moved back. They also know nothing about Tatiana taking Grace in since that came long after she cut them off and ran. Grace is allowed to go to school, but Tatiana spent years training her to keep anything about her family secret before that was allowed. Jesse is still stuck at home where it's safe and still has only heard a very biased idea of his extended family dynamics and about Will Herondale, but he sneaks out when he can and as far as Lucie knows he's home-schooled

And at this point, Jesse's mostly just worried about getting himself and Grace in trouble from Tatiana for the whole routinely sneaking out thing and worried about Gideon and Gabriel and Will finding out that Tatiana's there because of what he thinks they'll do if they find off based off of the lies Tatiana's told him

But he's snuck out with and without Grace enough times now though that he hasn't been afraid of being outside in a long time. Years ago, he used to be terrified to try to go outside but still thought it was worth the risk, even just to spend a few minutes in his own yard. But by now, he's been outside plenty of times and he hasn't died or even needed Grace to use his epi-pen on him yet and he's decided that he'd rather live with a bit of risk than stay locked up for his whole life

[valleydoli]

𐙚 Ao3 Fics I’ve read and love 𐙚

𐙚 infidelity by @tawus (completed)

gojo x fem reader

Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…

𐙚 desert rose by @sadistic-kiss (on going)

all jjk men x fem reader 😭

Toji Fushiguro finds you during one of his hitman jobs. With no idea what to do with you he decides to bring you home to his house of misfits. They weren’t picture perfect but neither were you.

𐙚 mascara by @/softstellars (on going)

geto x fem reader

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself. For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her. It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger. And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

𐙚 a pearl by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

The Fushiguros needed a nanny, and the pay was too good to not apply, especially since your family needed financial help. You were the perfect nanny for the kids, they loved you as if you were their own mother. Slowly, you built up the perfect relationship with the family. Especially with Mr. Fushiguro. A man who would constantly visit you after dark. A man who you thought had sincere intentions but at the end of the day didn't care about you. A selfish man who just saw you as a tool to make his wife mad. A man who didn't care about you but didn't want you with anyone else. A man that took away your ability to know what a healthy relationship was. You couldn't speak up about it since all the fault would fall at your feet and would be deemed as the "homewrecker".

𐙚 you, my angel and my saint by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

sequel to a pearl!

After having an affair with your boss, you're left to deal with the consequences, those being: two exhausting new jobs and a child. A child that he never got to know the existence of. Now all you had to do was keep her hidden, which should be an easy task, right?

𐙚 rings by @/bungeemum (on going)

toji x fem reader

you divorced the man in front of you for a reason. so why was he standing on your doorstep, guilt plastered on his face, and eyes glinting with hope?

𐙚 a dangerous game by @/anaoyuo (completed)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right. Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.

𐙚 fate’s gamble by @/anaoyuo (on going)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

sequel to a dangerous game

缘分— a story about predestined affinity, set in a world where the intoxicating thrills of wealth intertwine with amorality.

𐙚 him & i by @pharixden (on going)

gojo x fem reader

toji x fem reader

sukuna x fem reader

A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart, but not every girl is a damsel in distress.

𐙚 changes by @lemonlover1110 (on going also on tumblr!)

gojo x fem reader

From childhood friends to lovers to mere strangers. Your love story with Satoru Gojo was one from a fairy tail, until it wasn't. When you were twenty-one, Satoru left you without an explanation. Five years later, you meet again but nothing is quite the same. Too many things need to be explained, especially the fact that there's another Gojo that Satoru has yet to meet.

𐙚 the man in apartment 381 by @lemonlover1110 (completed also on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close. Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.

𐙚 4th avenue viewing by @/softstellars (completed)

nanami x fem reader

Nanami Kento is intelligent, serious, reserved and can easily catch someone in a lie. It's his job to do just that, he's renowned for it. So when he comes to your university to offer up an internship, it's quite the opportunity. Anyone would jump at the chance, except for you. But no, you just had to be the one caught in a lie.

𐙚 forgotten souls by @/killerpoultry & @/bebobopobo (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

You and Sukuna have been married for years. Even though he is brash, mean, and sadistic, you love him more than anything. While he may not show it much, he truly loves you too. One day you get into a terrible car accident and lose all your memories. You learn to live once more while Sukuna must now get you to fall in love with him all over again.

𐙚 love kills by @/sourome (on going)

i actually don’t know 😭 i think toji x fem reader

The wealthy and successful Zenin family, well respected and seemingly perfect. But all that glitters is not gold. Toji Zenin, CEO and face of the Zenin Group acts like a gentleman but is a vile creature that has ruined many lives, such as yours. That married man dared to play with your mother’s heart many years ago, destroying her sanity and her life and ultimately killing her. Now years later and being all grown up you decide to seek revenge, he deserves to suffer that same destiny and die of love. With the help of a few friends you plan to become a part of his life and his every thought but you didn't take into account his son, that man had the potential to turn your plans upside down.

𐙚 the black swan by @uselesslydamaged (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

Loving someone is easy, but experiencing it is harder.

𐙚 bodyguard by @/succybuss (on going)

toji x fem reader

Your Grandfather, a man involved in unsavory businesses that has taken you under his wing, has informed you that you will be under the care of a full-time Bodyguard. Unhappy with your grandfather's decision, you decide to go out for a night of drinking for your last night of freedom. There, you encounter a man you planned on taking home, but life had other plans in store for you...

𐙚 violet lights by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

In which you're at a party that you should've skipped when you capture the attention of a boy who looks like an angel and grins like the devil. He looks beautiful in the neon lights, and maybe you just want to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, but trouble with a tongue ring does sound like fun, just for tonight. What's the worst that could happen, you know?

𐙚 starboy by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

sequel to violet lights

After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.

𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)

toji x fem reader

Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.

This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.

𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)

gojo x fem reader

This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.

𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici

(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)

has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(

please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3

i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Howdy! It's me again

How are you? I hope you are fine, and if not, then I encourage you from here!

Well, I would like to order something in which our dear Willy gets a little jealous because someone entered the factory and started flirting with his partner (reader) And that leads to a very affectionate moment between reader and Willy

Por cierto, qué le pones a los pedidos que escribes? Los siento muy emocionantes y me ponen a chillar a veces SJSGGWUW

(By the way, what do you put in the orders you write? I find them very exciting and they make me scream sometimes)

.—🌻

Tensions in the Factory [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

nota: ¡me hace muy feliz que te guste lo que escribo! creo que sólo se trata de hacerlo con amor (¿o algo así? jaja) Lamento haber tardado, entré a un trabajo durante vacaciones y apenas me queda tiempo, pero espero que sea de tu agrado, girasol:)

[ENG: It makes me very happy that you like what I write! I think it's just about doing it with love (or something like that? haha) I'm sorry it took me so long, I started a job during vacation and I barely have time left, but I hope you like it, sunflower:)]

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

“Your factory is impressive, Mr. Wonka,” said the man next to the boy, with a satisfied smile on his face after the tour he had given him.

Willy was pleased with the investor's recognition that he intended to finance a new branch for Wonka chocolates and if everything continued as expected, he knew that that same afternoon they would be signing a contract.

“I'm glad you like it. This is where all the magic happens, so I hope that with that new store things are even more promising for us.”

He wanted to add something else when, suddenly, he was interrupted by the vision of a person; it was you, beckoning to him from the other side of the factory with a board holding papers. He knew it had to be something important or else you would have waited, so he apologized to the young man at his side and walked quickly until he reached you.

“Oh, I'm sorry to bother you, but one of the machines that churns the chocolate is jammed and making a mess in there, do you think you can check it?” you murmured, sounding slightly worried about the situation.

“Yes, I'll go right away. While you will talk to Mr. Salt? Tell him to excuse me for a moment”

"Yes, I will do it"

“You're an angel, thank you for letting me know,” he said goodbye, gently caressing the side of your face and practically running to solve the problem you had just told him about.

The man looking at you curiously from the other side couldn't have been more than a couple of years older than Willy and he was handsome, dressed in a gray formal suit that was worthy of a businessman. You had heard that he had a lot of money and although at first the chocolatier was not very convinced, after thinking about it better he believed that it was a good time to expand his horizons; that included having more stores to sell more chocolates. He had told you about the idea and you had been excited about it, so you motivated him to contact interested businessmen.

Although you didn't really enjoy talking to strangers, you took a deep breath and walked over to where the man was to greet him.

“Mr. Salt?” you said timidly, to get his attention. He watched you for a moment and when he got a better look at you, then he smiled hugely.

“Just call me Henry, Henry Salt. It's my pleasure," he replied, reaching out to shake your hand a little longer than expected. "Are you Mr. Wonka's secretary?"

It wasn't the first time a guy thought that about you, after all you were always behind your boyfriend with that board in your hand, writing things down, checking the operation, and reminding him of everything, however, Willy had always said that you were his partner and he wouldn't expect anyone to disparage your position: this factory belongs to both of us, he always said. 

But it was easier to say yes than to explain all that.

“Something like that. He asked me to tell you that he had to attend to an emergency, but that he will be right back.”

"Oh, sure. There is no problem with it as long as you keep me company” he said happily.

The man was looking at you up and down, as if you were the most interesting thing he had seen in the factory so far, but you didn't notice it, because you were too focused on the thought of how Willy was handling the machinery.

“Did you like the factory?” you exclaimed, trying to get a topic of conversation that would kill the silence that had enveloped you.

You could tell that he was an educated man, because he immediately started talking to you about the structure of the building, finances, what a good investment it would be to open a branch and also about how much he loved chocolate.

“I have a daughter named Veruca. She is just a baby, but I hope to be able to give her everything she wants in the future. I only plan to work to fulfill her whims”

“Ow, that's sweet,” you tried to flatter. At least his motives were noble.

“She looks a little like you, actually. You are very beautiful"

You had to admit that the comment threw you off, but you still laughed nervously. Maybe he was just trying to be nice to you, so you could persuade Willy to close the deal with that man.

“Huh, I appreciate it, Mr. Salt.”

“What are your favorite chocolates? I imagine that being here you eat them in droves, right?” he murmured.

You hoped that with that the conversation would take a different direction, so you started talking to him about all the types of chocolates that Willy prepared for you: the sweet ones, some salty ones, the magical ones, the strange ones...

“But I think my favorites are definitely the mint chocolates. They may be simple, but Mr. Wonka prepares them in an exceptional way," you said dreamily, remembering that upon discovering it he had prepared an entire jar just for you.

“When the branch is open, you can stop by to eat all the mint chocolates you want. At a special price for special ladies”

You laughed at that, not so much out of desire but out of commitment to the potential client. Suddenly a hand was placed on your waist and when you turned in the direction of the body that had approached you, you noticed that it was who it could only be. You frowned slightly when you noticed that he was frowning, as if something had bothered him.

“I'm sorry I was late. Everything is in order now, would you like to accompany me inside, Mr. Salt?” he said. His voice sounded calm and stern, without that cheerful tone he always had, and he still had one hand planted firmly on your body.

“Of course,” the chocolatier made a sign for the opponent to start walking and he did not take his eyes off him at any time, noticing that Mr. Salt was looking at you with the same interest.

If he was unhappy with something, he didn't say it, and he just left a gentle kiss on your head.

“See you in a bit, okay?” You nodded and pushed him just a little, inviting him to follow the businessman you had just spoken to. He got lost down the hallway and you returned to your tasks, not imagining the feeling that was bubbling in your partner's chest.

“That man is a complete idiot.”

You were surprised to hear the boy use those words and, above all, by the furious tone with which he had expressed himself. You interrupted your tasks of making dinner to pay attention to him.

“Who are you talking about?

“From Mr. Salt, of course! I didn't sign the contract with him. Don't even think about it, he's a… a complete nutcase”

"What are you talking about? What happened?" you asked, completely surprised by what he was telling you. You put everything aside to approach him and held his face to analyze his expression: it was extremely strange to see him this upset “Honey?”

“He was flirting with you! Don't think I didn't notice, when I left, he... he started talking to you that way. And not satisfied with that, he called you my assistant and then he hinted that he wanted a romance with you. He said punctually: I hope that, if I open this new branch, you will send your pretty assistant to help me with everything necessary” he was red with anger as he said that and he had to breathe for a moment to compose himself. "So I told him immediately that there was no deal if he dared to talk about my wife like that.”

There was too much to process at once. You felt disgusted at the idea that another man had shown interest in you, but at the same time you were surprised by how he had reacted. Willy wasn't a possessive husband, but right now you were feeling something strange about this side of him.

“You don't have to worry about that…”

“Of course I have to. You're beautiful and I'm sure everyone realizes that, but I won't let anyone look at you like he was looking at you. It is my job to protect you and that includes not entering into relationships with those who want to take advantage of you.”

He sounded sincere and passionate when he spoke, convincing you that he was very serious about the matter. Contrary to what he expected, you smiled and cupped his cheeks again to kiss him on the lips. He melted at the touch, you knew it by the way his shoulders completely relaxed and his hands came up to hold your elbows during the seconds you were kissing him.

Once he was more relaxed, you spoke.

“It's all right, love. Can you calm down?” you asked him. Your hand began to gently caress his cheeks and your eyes looked pleading, something he couldn't resist. “You shouldn't have wasted such an opportunity, but... I appreciate that you rejected it. For me"

“I would do anything for you,” he said immediately. Suddenly he felt the urge to kiss you again and he did, deeply and lovingly. You didn't resist.

“You're my only boy, you know that? No one in the world could take me from your arms” 

“That's not my fear, I know that nothing can separate us” he assured you, smiling from ear to ear. That's how sure he was about yours, that agreed with the pair of rings on your fingers “Besides, there will be more opportunities, you don't have to feel guilty about anything.”

“I don’t,” you exclaimed, to reassure him. You knew he had done the right thing and you loved him for it “Are you hungry? I'm making you something for dinner” you confessed and then he nodded.

He could smell what you were cooking and when you reached out to stir the contents of the saucepan with a stick, he hugged you from behind, starting to talk about something more trivial than that failed business and feeling clearly relaxed, now that he knew he was and he would always be the only owner of your heart.

[binniebakery]

Doll

Non Idol AU Soobin x Fem!Reader, Friends to Lovers(?) ♡ Warnings: very heavily inspired by dollification (im crazy), reader is wearing cute/feminine clothing!!! suggestive!, soobin manhandling, mentions of a small reader, reader gets called nicknames (doll, dainty, cute, etc) ♡ A/N: ALRIGHT! this is for my fellow coquette girlies!! raise ur hand if u feel like this kink suits him because 🙈🙈asdfdfkj idk this may be a little ooc of soobin so i apologize in advance.. !! i love this concept sm i was literally biting my knuckles the entire time writing this🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️(in other words someone sedate me) also not proofread teehee

You sat there as cute as can be, your lovely skirt resting against your legs as you sat on the edge of your best friend’s bed. Soobin had invited you over to his apartment to hang out on a particularly boring evening. The room was completely silent, aside from the soft clicking and tapping of the controller in your dainty hands. Soobin was taking a shower but had messaged you to let yourself in if he wasn’t done by the time you arrived. You two had been friends for a good while, so you made yourself at home, kicking off your pretty heels and turning on his PC to play some new rhythm game he had installed.

After a proper few minutes you found yourself comfortably lying on your stomach, elbows propped as you tried to beat Soobin’s high score. Your frilly skirt riding up just slightly enough to show off a little more than you intended. Hearing the door open, you pause the game and look back to Soobin smiling. “Hey, enjoying yourself aren’t we?” he chuckled as he watched you kick your feet with a wide grin. “Yeah, took you long enough in the shower I was dying of boredom!” You teased as he sat on the bed next to you, his eyes lingering over you a bit longer than usual. You were too busy fiddling with the controller to even notice. “Your outfit’s cute today y/n.” Soobin softly mumbled as his fingers traced the lace of your skirt, fingertips almost grazing the exposed skin. You feel yourself shudder and immediately sit up, a nervous smile plays on your lips as you look up at Soobin who was still softly feeling the material. You flush at how his still-damp hair hangs around his handsome face. Even though he wore just a simple white t-shirt and jeans it was still enough to make him insanely attractive. “A-ah thanks! I just got this outfit actually.. ” Your voice beginning to fail you as your best friend looks down at you with a look you’ve never seen on him before. Before you could say anything else, Soobin lifts his large hand and cups your face gently, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You feel yourself wanting to melt into your best friend’s touch. Sure, Soobin wasn’t always that affectionate, but you were both comfortable enough around each other so he had his moments. Then again.. why was he looking at you like that? The way his eyes stared at your pouty lips felt as if he was enticing you to lean into his palm. And you did. “You’re so pretty y’know?.. Like a doll. I feel like.. I could just break you with how small you are.” He whispers and your eyes widen. “Wh- what? What do you m- mean..?” You see a slight blush form on his cheeks as if someone else but him had just said that out loud. Classic Soobin, always speaking his mind without a filter. Did he even have any idea just how this was affecting you right now? “Sorry.. I just.. That slipped out..” he mumbled and his eyes are back on your lips again. Your mind couldn’t think of anything to say in response, your cheeks felt like they were on fire as your hands sat in your lap. You didn’t dare to move an inch. “You’re just such a..” Soobin begins again as he moves the thumb that was caressing your warm cheek down to your soft pink lips. “Dainty girl..” His fingers held your chin so that you were looking up at him. You closed your eyes, breath beginning to shake as you just couldn’t into your best friend’s eyes.

“Will you let me see those pretty eyes y/n?” Soobin’s voice sounds like honey, warm, low, and smooth as he drags his thumb to smear your once-perfect lipgloss slightly. You open your eyes and he’s smiling at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were in a haze. “Atta girl. You listen so well..” He continues moving his thumb, caressing your plump bottom lip. From the way he was smirking anyone could see how he was enjoying this. The way you melt under his touch, it makes him want to ruin your pretty makeup even more. See the tears that stream down your pretty face, see how your eyes and nose get puffy, turning that perfect pink when you cry.  “S- Soobin.. my lip-” Your lips were smoothed shut as Soobin’s thumb smeared your lipgloss once more. “See? So easily played with, my whole hand just-” he squeezes your cheeks to prove his point, the color on his fingers now tinting parts of your cheeks. “Can hold your entire little face..” he chuckles quietly. Since when did he speak so condescendingly towards you? It didn’t matter, you secretly loved it. His large hand easily moved around, playing with your face as you stared at him through your pretty lashes. Your heart was pounding at the intimate attention and you found yourself craving more. You squeak as Soobin suddenly places you into his lap, large hands squeezing your waist once you were situated. His movements felt swift yet so careful. “Have to be gentle with you. You’re like a porcelain doll..” You find your breaths becoming more labored from the touch. With every touch he gave you, you felt the fire and intense atmosphere between you grow thicker. Large hands roaming your waist and sides, admiring your outfit. “S’cute..” he chuckles as you lean into his shoulder from embarrassment. “S- Soobin..” You were so flustered over how you felt. You’ve always felt an attraction towards him, but of course, keeping your feelings hidden was the path you chose as you weren’t even sure if he had feelings for you. However, his actions today seem to confirm he feels the same way.

“Pretty girl.. My pretty girl... Letting someone like me move you and touch you however I want..” he cooed as he ran his fingers through your perfectly done hair. Fingers lightly tugging at the ribbons you meticulously tied this morning, just enough so that they threatened to undo themselves. The same way he wanted you to become undone. “If it's you... then- it’s fine binnie..” For Soobin, hearing you say that in his neck ever so softly made his heart swoon. You used that nickname sparingly, only using it whenever you were feeling cheeky. Or whenever you wanted something. It drove him insane. You placed your hands on his chest as he tilted your head back, giving him space for his lips to start hovering over your pretty neck. You were completely under his control. Like he was the puppeteer and you, his cute little puppet for him to admire. Though you didn’t really mind the attention, did you?

You felt your breath hitch as he stayed still, your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of feeling his lips on your skin. You wanted it, needed it. “Please..” you softly whisper and Soobin smirks at your whines. “Does my pretty girl want me to do more?” He questions, voice sounding innocent and sweet but the look on his face was giving a completely different vibe. All you could do was nod in response. “Can my doll use her words for me?”

That was the final straw for you, forget the morality of it all. You nod again “p- please.. I want more..” you pleaded, looking at him with big doe eyes. Soobin’s eyes lingered on your face, the way your lipgloss was smeared across, the flush of your pretty cheeks, the way your lashes were curled to perfection. He was obsessed. You feel him lay you back, his larger body moving over you as his fingers admire the fabric of your outfit. “Mhm, good girl.. Let me treat my pretty doll with the utmost care then.”

[imaginidol]

San: Making Choices

!!mentions of nsfw!!18+!! (soft smut) as requested here! however, this is my first smut so uhm I have no idea if I did this right, much less make it SOFT the way it’s intended to be bc I wasn’t aware there were ranges so uh COUGH 😭 LMK what you think, anonnie!! And pls feel free to request more!!

“You’re too fucking good,” San’s hot breath burns against your neck. “You’re just so fucking good.”

You sat at the edge of his bed, after what was supposed to be a movie night with your boyfriend. Of course, the plans had changed almost immediately after the movie showed a sex scene, and soon enough San couldn’t keep his eyes off you any longer after that.

You weren’t too good at keeping your eyes off him, either, and what soon began as short teases from your end eventually lead to some kisses turned to making out, and now San had carried you back into his bedroom to dare you to finish what you’d started.

You let out a soft moan at the feel of his teeth nibbling against your neck, his hands groping at your hips and pulling you closer to him.

“San,” you groan as a warm feeling overtakes your abdomen. His clothed crotch rubs against your panties, and you so desperately wanted to take everything off.

“C’mon,” he coos into your ear, leaving a soft trail of kisses down your neck. “Let me put my baby inside you.”

San had been asking for you to give him a child for a few months now, and though you still weren’t too keen on the idea, he could make it incredibly hard to resist.

The only thing that was really stopping you was his career.

“San, but… what about your career,” you whisper, wrapping your hands around his neck and rubbing his upper back.

His hooded eyes make their way to yours.

“And what about it?”

“Uhm,” you stutter, “wouldn’t you get backlash—”

“We’ve talked about this before, love. They don’t have to know that I’m happy if it’s gonna bother them,” he whispers, referring to the potential backlash of malicious news sources and rabid fans-turned-anti’s if they got upset by it, “so I won’t tell anyone. Not yet, anyway.”

He was so sure of his decision, and you could see how desperately he wanted it deep within his eyes.

“I’m so sure of making you a mom the moment you give me permission, though,” he whispers, his eyes searching yours. And you wanted to be the one to make San a dad more than anyone else in the world.

I could make you a dad whenever I want to, you devilishly thought to yourself.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, grabbing his hands and moving them down to your lower hips, making his fingers tug against your panties.

Okay, then, you think excitedly, desperately hoping he’d take the hint and undress you already.

He doesn’t hesitate to take notice, and immediately pushes down against your body, gently landing you on your back against the mattress behind you.

His hands glide down your legs as your panties come off, his hooded eyes growing darker at the sight of you in all your glory.

“Fuck, you’re wet already,” he whispers, slowly spreading your legs as far as you’d go.

“San,” you moaned, annoyed at the fact that he wasn’t doing anything yet.

The boy takes notice and quickly begins to unzip his pants, undressing himself from the waist-down, and briskly pulling his black tank shirt off.

He bends over and dives in between your legs, causing you to stir in desperation as you felt his tongue flicking lightly at your clit.

“San,” you groaned louder as you ran your fingers through his dark hair, pulling him deeper into you and proceeding to make a sloppy mess of yourself altogether.

He just felt so good eating you out like that.

“San, for fucks sake,” you breathed heavily. The boy rose and wrapped your thighs around his waist, softly pushing his hardened member into you as quiet moans began escaping your lips. Your moans steadily matched the swaying of his thrusts against you, each growing louder than the last. Soon enough, he was unapologetically letting out soft moans of his own.

“You’re… you feel so good, San,” you breathe, wanting him to go faster but also loving the steady pace at which he was at.

“Fuck, fuck,” he moaned a few times into your ear, not being able to hold them in.

He thrusted deeper into you, causing a stir in the pit of your abdomen as each thrust gave you greater pleasure than the last.

“San,” you moan loudly as the boy on top of you started to slow down.

“Hey,” he calls to you, firmly clasping a hand around your jaw and forcing you to turn in his direction. “When are you gonna let me make you my baby mama?”

Your eyes lock with his, his thrusting slowing down to a deep, steady pace as you struggled to form any viable responses in your head.

“You gonna answer me, or you want me to stop?”

The last thing you wanted was for him to stop.

“Fuck, San,” you want to look away, but his hand is firm against your jaw until you give him a proper answer. “Yes, do what you want to me, my body is yours!”

He smiles, leaning back and replacing both hands back against your hips as he began to thrust harder and faster into you, concentrating on fulfilling his only wish now that the visible pleasure was forming more and more across your face.

if you’re comfortable with smut I’ve got a hongjoong ver. here! and a yunho ver. here! and a wooyoung ver. here! jongho ver. here and a mingi ver. here!

[koolades-world]

Hey there! I'd Like to request something. So like, MC is an Artist (Style doesn't matter they just have to draw humanoid things) and then they draw the brothers+dateables in their style, what would the reaction be?

hello! sure thing :)

I myself am admittedly not a very good artist, which is my my preferred art form is writing. the only time I draw is usually during gartic phone games with friends, and thanks to my franticness under a time limit it's always very chaotic. but at this point I've just embraced it and it's always funny

enjoy!

Artist Mc

Lucifer

you draw him while he's seated at the dinner table on a saturday morning while he's reading the newspaper and enjoying a coffee

not that you didn't intend to show him, but suddenly he was leaning over your shoulder, staring, and it caught you off guard

as you scramble to explain, he just smiles and sits back down in his chair and goes back to what he was doing to keep being you model

once you're done, he asks if he can at least have a copy to keep, which in itself is a huge compliment, but it's so he can think of you every time he looks at it 🥺

Mammon

during class, he happened to look super cute as always while looking wistfully out a nearby window a few rows in front of you and the lesson was getting boring anyways. next to your notes, you begin to doodle him, using highlighters for color

you forget it's there and lend him that very notebook since he had tuned out that same lesson

once he opens it, he seems himself and doesn't know how to react. he's a babbling, red mess

once he regains motor functions, he shakily declares that it's very becoming of the Great Mammon and that you did a great job. success!

Levi

the two of you are hanging out in his room. he's playing a ruri game and you're lounging behind him, sketching on a bean bag

you're not drawing anything in particular and were searching for an idea when suddenly, the idea found you

levi wasn't paying attention to you, so you could easily look at him and ruri, and sketch them side by side in matching outfits

once he stops for a moment to get a snack, you happily show him the drawing and he does the demon equivalent of blue screening. give him a minute to reboot then try again haha

Satan

when you decided to draw him, the two of you were seating together, with you in his lap while he read a book so he saw the drawing from it's first line to it's last

made positive comments about it the entire time, like about how you captured the green of his eyes perfectly, or telling you his hair looked better in the picture than it did in real life

at some point, he stopped pretending to read the book and sat watching you with his chin on your shoulder

he added cute little notes around it once you were done with little hearts around them

Asmo

he's asked you to draw him jokingly a few times, but never expected you to actually do it the next time he asked

when you tell him if he wants, he can pick something else to wear, he almost strips down so you can draw him nude but you stop him as soon as he started to take his shirt off

he scurried away and was back quickly in a new outfit, and posed how he would for a picture

talks to you basically the entire time you draw, and once you're done, he squeezes you into a tight hug and asks if he can post it on his Devilgram

Beel

after joining him enough times for Fangol practice, you knew it well enough to begin making sketches of him as he practiced

drawing him in action was a little challenging since he never held still, but you were determined

you drew a few since his practice went on longer that day, and got to proudly show him the results

he was equally as proud of you since he thought you did a great job. he asks if he can have one, and if you give it to him, you'll find it hanging up next to his bed next to all his Fangol trophies <3

Belphie

he's an easy model to draw thanks to his lethargy, so you often find yourself sketching him

something about his peaceful nature and natural frosted tips was just so drawable, so you had at least a few pages full of him napping in various positions with different blankets

one time, he wakes up while you're next to him drawing, and is a little shocked in a good way. he didn't know you viewed him that highly

he's still half asleep, so he just compliments your artwork and moves to lay his head on your lap, then falls back asleep, ensuring you're the flustered one now

[writingmeraki]

min ho as your bf hcs !

genre : fluff ! romance !

pairing : min ho x gn!reader, strangers to friends to oblivious idiots to lovers :)

warnings : insecurity and jealousy ( not anything too alarming ), attempt at comedy, kissing, not proofread ! ( lmk if i missed anything ! ) also self indulgent at times 😔

author's note : dawg it's 5:30 am pulled this out of the two last living braincells of my brains to dip my toes into this xo kitty craze i am having, especially for min ho but anyways! idk if i like this, ( it's normal I'm so sorry I'm never sure if i like what i write at times because i end up writing at the ass crack of dawn and that too unhinged 😔) i kinda find it longer than i intended it to be but hope you like it <3 I'll be writing more if I get feedback and expect something else soon :)

word count : 3.4k (💀)

how you met !

- You'd both met when it was your first day at KISS.

- Well since it's Min ho, i feel like it would take a lot for someone to put an impression on him to make him remember them.

- At the welcome party, he was pretty bored, already used to these types of parties when you'd walk in, clueless looking like a deer in headlights, in your pretty little outfit.

- It definitely made him curious nonetheless, even though you seemed lost, you still had a smile, maintaining a confident aura.

- You'd probably be nervous on the inside though, but lucky for you, someone like you, that was Kitty, happened to also seem lost.

- You both connected immediately, her being new to Korea wanting to get to know her own roots and ofc her boyfriend more while you were there because you'd been wanting a change from your life back home and what better city than Seoul !

- Well okay, you didn't really pick it, it was more so of you just throwing a dart at the map back in your room to choose where you wanted to go as a fresh start and it landed on Seoul. You'd call it fate.

- Now back to the party, as you chattered with Kitty, you walked into someone and you felt your breath hitch, upon seeing him.

- It did feel like those cliche weird movie moments, when you think that this is probably it.

- As he was obviously annoyed at Kitty, he turned to the person beside her and his eyes widened.

- It was you. The one that caught his eye right at the beginning.

- Before anything, you flashed your soft smile at him, an apologetic look in your eyes, apologizing for bumping into him, on behalf of Kitty

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean to bump into you, I can get you some paper towels?" You said gently and Min ho definitely wanted to continue hearing you, already really loving the way you sounded.

Q would definitely be shocked though, seeing him look flustered, and staring at you, blinking twice. He never thought he'd ever see his best friend being so…speechless.

He literally had to bump his shoulder to snap him out of daze which seemed to have worked, for the most part.

- You all introduced yourselves, finding out they'd been Dae, Kitty's boyfriend's best friends, and with the way she seemed a bit taken aback by the way she looked at Min ho made you feel like you'd definitely didn't know something.

- And unknowingly both Q and Kitty did notice, sharing a puzzled look, at Min ho's state. They'd met a while ago but clearly there was already something there. A new thing, blooming slowly.

how you got together !

- And fast forward a bit, Kitty who was true to her matchmaking skills, knew you both liked each other.

- You'd both hang out often over the few weeks, connecting more and despite her own love life being confused, she was determined to make you both realize you were oblivious idiots who liked each other, idiots nonetheless.

- He'd upgraded to talking freely around you more, but you found out he wasn't the shy person you thought he was the first time you met him, the very next day, when he began to compliment himself and flash his annoyingly handsome smirk at you.

- But despite his cockiness, you knew he cared about those he loved. Small gestures and actions are proof enough. He was someone who cared without showing it much, giving gifts was his love language and that only made you more convinced you'd definitely gained feelings for him.

- And alas, you came to her, spilling out your feelings, how you had already found him attractive since the first time you saw him, at first you genuinely thought he'd be a jerk, knowing better than to think a handsome face had a good personality.

- And as much as you were terrifyingly nervous of having such a revelation regarding a boy you'd met only a few months ago now, you don't think you'd ever regret liking someone like Min ho.

-Now it was up to the matchmaker to make you both realize you were meant to be.

-The perfect match, in her words and Min ho definitely scoffed at her words when she confronted him about his own feelings, definitely not because you had said to never ever mention anything about how you felt to him, she just wanted to make sure, and as always her gut was right.

- As much as he scoffed at her words recalling his own family, he couldn't stop his own heart from fluttering as he thought of being together with you, and even to him, this revelation made him a bit taken aback but he was sure, he was sure about how he felt about you.

- They all planned to get you to confess during the camping trip, unsurprisingly all of your mutual friends knowing you had both liked each other and agreed, getting tired of seeing you pining for each other in secret, as cute as it was.

-Kitty would tell you to dress up nicely, saying she had planned a dinner, making up excuses about how there was this spot, perfect for chilling, you did find her behavior a bit odd, but with her persuasive nature, you agreed.

- She made you wear this one outfit, it was one you'd bought and adored a lot, you didn't even know you had packed it, but it made you look amazing and was made for you, in Kitty's words.

- Then she did your hair and applied light make up, your suspicions being even more, asking her a million questions about whether all this was really necessary if it's going to be just us chilling, her just dismissing your questions.

- Min ho wasn't too different on the other end, but Q knew him. Min ho was one who dressed to impress, more of himself nonetheless, he knew he wouldn't hold back on his style.

- And he was right because when he just told Min ho to dress his best tonight and Min ho being Min ho dressed in a fucking suit. Yeah he was not one to mess around his fashion game.

- Q made up a similar reason, something about a dinner at this cool spot. And Min ho didn't really question much, going along.

- When you were almost near the place, Kitty suddenly placed her hands on your eyes from behind you, making you chuckle nervously, asking her if she'd suddenly had a grudge and had really just brought you out to kill you.

- Kitty rolled her eyes, you not seeing her of course, having your vision being engulfed in a sudden darkness.

Whispering softly into your ears, she told you

"Just trust me on this one and you should thank me later."

- On the other side, Min ho almost screamed when he felt his eyes being covered in a sudden darkness by a blind fold, Q choosing a blind fold knowing if he kept his hands, Min ho would go on a long rant about how to not touch his face, and would probably snap back saying how he said that but he allowed you to touch his face to poke his cheeks.

"Q, bro, as much as I love you, I am not into thi-"

"Shut up."

He led Min ho, now only a feet away from the spot,

"And thank me later genius, preferably with your fancy water, it tastes amazing."

- Kitty and Q looked at each other making sure, you both were facing each other.

- Knowing you both were probably going to say something, they both just smiled at each other and let your eyes become uncovered.

- As you adjusted your eyesight to your surroundings, you'd both spotted each other, surprised was probably what you felt.

- Yet upon seeing the way your hair was done, the way your makeup only enhances your features, your gentle eyes sparkling under the soft moonlight, your outfit only adding to your beauty, Min ho just wanted to treasure you forever if he could as his heart picked up in pace, more enchanted by your mere presence.

- You were no different, a reminder that he was definitely sculpted by Aphrodite herself as the moonlight fell upon his face, his suit only making you more trapped, fitting him perfectly, his hair styled to perfection, some strands escaping and gently resting on his forehead.

"Well! Now that you're both here, enjoy! And oh, don't mess this up, please for the sake of all of us fed up with you oblivious idiots!"

Kitty said suddenly making you look at her, furrowing your eyebrows at her words and upon hearing Q's agreement Min ho narrowed his eyes at being called an idiot and before the both of you could say another word they turned around and left.

- You took in the surroundings, now noticing the glittering fairylights and the table set up in front of you, a rose bouquet placed in the middle, filled with specifically red roses and some candles.

"Looks like they set us up."

Min ho said, already catching onto what this was all about, and it made him just a tad bit nervous

"Oh and uh if you feel uncomfortable, we can go back-"

Giggling at the way he seemed sheepish and nervous at the same time, you shake your head,

"Not at all, we can't let their efforts go to waste now can we? After all, we shouldn't mess this up."

You air quoted the final words, moving forward to take a seat.

Min ho had a small smile on his face as he heard you giggle, nodding along

"Yeah you're right. Covey will probably throw me off this cliff."

You chuckled as you both sat down

"Don't worry, I'll jump after you to save you. Can't let my date be murdered by my best friend."

His eyes widened a bit at your words, you paused a bit wondering if you spoke too much maybe, but all your doubts dissolved when he replied

"What no! You can't hurt yourself because of me!"

- You were sure your cheeks would have hurt from the amount of laughing and giggles you'd share with Min ho that night, convinced you'd never laugh this much in one night your entire life.

- And as the night came to an end, you both sat on the cliff, looking at the stars, sharing sneaky glances and adorable grins. You knew it was the right moment to just let it all out

"Min ho."

Humming at you, he looked at you from his previous stargazing, sitting beside him with his jacket over your shoulders to top off the clicheness, looking just unreal and you had done nothing but call him yet he loves it a lot more than he'd admit.

"I think I'm in love with you."

You said it, there. Out in the open. Out of the temporary home the words had found on the tip of your tongue and you braced yourself for the worst of the worst.

You looked away, gulping back up at the stars.

"Come on now, you can't just look away after that."

Min ho gently cupped your face, to make you look at him, his cooler fingers a contrast to your warm cheeks.

He smirked at you, leaning closer,

"I know you do."

Frowning a bit at his answer, you narrowed your eyes at him, but he had more to say

"But, I don't think I am in love with you though, I know I am definitely in love with you."

You gaped at his words, staring into his sincere eyes, moving yourself closer as he leaned in more and more.

"Can I ?"

He asked softly, foreheads touching each other, your breathing in sync.

"Please."

- It was slow and gentle, something unknown to the both of you, letting your feelings be conveyed through the touch of your lips. You had placed your hands around his neck pulling him closer as his own hands moved to your waist.

You pulled away shortly, needing to breathe, foreheads still touching each other.

"So does this mean we're official ?" You timidly asked and he responded,

"We'll take it however you want it to be but I won't lie, I would love to be your boyfriend."

He finished with a cheeky grin and you giggled

"Okay then, boyfriend."

Pecking him one more time as his grin grew wider, you knew this was probably your biggest happiness till date.

how being in a relationship with him is !

- It was no joke when he said giving gifts was his own love language.

- He spoiled you to the brim, despite your protests. You didn't mind them of course. It's just throughout your life you'd only get such special gifts on big occasions but he got them for you on random Tuesdays and you felt like you were getting more than you deserve.

"Baby, you know how much I love you, this is my own way of showing it." He'd pouted it to you when you had protested once and you being the best partner you tried to be, just accepted them and of course treasured them safely in your room.

- As much as Min ho didn't mind showing affection to you in public because for one he didn't really care about what others thought of his actions,it was his life, he'd been living it how he wanted and wouldn't let anyone change that.

- But he was protective of you in public, holding your hand, though you didn't mind that at all when his larger hands seemed to perfectly wrap around yours as you pulled him closer to you.

- He'd probably let you and only you use his skincare routine products, in fact going in the extra mile and teaching you how to use them and what to use them for, applying them for you, a little like your very own spa treatment, and you giggled sometimes seeing him focused and serious when talking about how you didn't really need them since you were already perfect.

"You're already beautiful though." He told you as he applied a moisturizer on your face that for the love of all good things, you didn't know the name of. "This will just keep your skin looking healthy but if you don't want to use it, we can stop of course."

"It's okay. It feels nice." You hummed as he trailed his fingers gently on your face, massaging it, and he smiled at your content look. He knew you were a little stressed due to some tests hence why he insisted you take a break with him at the moment.

"I'm glad then."

- He knew you loved his cooking, even before you got together, he'd always been making food for you when you would be at his dorm. He already knew your favorite dishes so when you felt down, he'd be ready with your comfort food.

- He loved to hear your little reviews about his cooking, you always had something to say about any dish he made, whether it was just the right amount of spice or how the tofu made the dish even more delicious, he listened to your suggestions and would use that to improve his skills.

- He'd teach you how to cook as well, starting with smaller and less complicated dishes,feeling his heart swell with happiness when you were successful at one and even if you failed, he'd reassure you that it's alright and we can try it again or another dish.

- Kisses were often shared anywhere and anytime even if your friends would complain about it, calling you gross and lovesick fools, you didn't care about what they said when you felt the familiar butterflies in your stomach as your lips touched his.

- You made him a very long playlist consisting of all and every song that reminded you of him, reminded you of moments with him, reminded you of how he made your heart flutter.

- He'd listen to it, telling you what parts he loved and he too had a similar playlist, it was probably the cheesiest thing to do, as Kitty said but then again you felt all kinds of so called cheesy emotions whenever you were with him.

- He would introduce you to his mother, and that too very proudly. You were nervous but he reassured you about how his mom would probably love you and she did, a sigh of relief coming from you when Min ho told you that.

- Your parents, on the other hand, were definitely charmed by him. He knew his way with words and what to say and nonetheless they loved him!

- Study dates in the libraries tended to end up with you giggling at his ridiculous jokes and him teasing you about how you were so cute, making you slap his arm lightly as you would feel your cheeks warm up.

- Playing footsies was always convenient when you were not paying attention to him, too focused on your novel and you just shook your head on the way and stifled your laughter at his pout.

- He was not a jealous person, not at least after you became his. Before sure, he'd glare at those who tried to ask you out, being happy when you turned them down.

- Q reminding him you weren't dating him for him to get jealous but now that you were, he didn't feel the need to get jealous.

- If he felt like someone was looking at you in that way, he'd either wrap his arm around your waist and kiss you cheek, smiling with a certain glint to the other and they got the message alright. Nothing serious but sometimes he can be jealous.

- You, though, you weren't jealous but maybe you tended to get insecure at times. Thinking Min ho could have whoever he wanted yet he chose you as you would find a pretty girl leaning onto him.

But the scoff of disgust as he leaned away, and said something to her which would make her turn around in shame and walk away with her head down, made you look at him, him coming towards your way, smiling as he finally spotted you.

"Hi baby! I was just looking for you." He grinned widely as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, his eyes shining brightly as he looked down at you, in those moments you knew, even if he wanted whoever he wanted, you had him and he had you.

- He's talkative, talking about anything and everything under the sun and moon, you'd give your attention those times, nods of confirmation to questions and gasps of shock when he said something particularly astounding.

- He was grateful to have someone who'd listen to him talk, as simple as that gesture is, he's grateful for that someone to have been you.

- He loves it when you play with his hair as he lays his head on your lap, brushing through his soft locks, easing his worries.

- You love to just cuddle with him when you can, him just holding you when you need it or pulling you onto him from your previous position of sitting beside him on the couch.

- Expect all kinds of date ideas to be pulled off, sometimes by you or by him or even by your friends. Movies, adventure parks, haunted houses, you name it but you think that no matter what, even if you could stare at paint dry on a wall, as long as you have Min ho with you, you couldn't ask for more.

- Despite his cocky moments at times, you sometimes would roll your eyes at him and just sigh softly, or better yet, you love to see his flustered expression whenever you agree on his self praises.

"We all know that my existence is probably the highlight of your day, guys, just admit it." He would say with a smug grin, Q already rolling his eyes and Kitty just scoffing and you replied

"Of course baby, you're the highlight of my life!" You grinned widely at him, chuckling when his ears got a little red and he just nodded "Y-yeah see!"

"I'll be b-back!" You laughed at him,

"Oh he's so whipped for you." Kitty said which only made you laugh more loudly.

- In the end, Min ho was convinced that even if he didn't believe in star crossed lovers, he'd definitely have to thank fate to make someone like you become his.

- And oh Kitty of course.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023

feedback is always appreciated 💗

links : main navi !

[heartandfangs]

THEN EARN IT.

GENRE Married Couple AU, Romance, Smut

PAIRING CEO!Husband!Jay x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY MDNI, Cursing, Mention of anxiety, Lingerie, Mention of food/working out/body image/sex toy use, Teasing, Masturbation, Making out, Multiple orgasms, Oral Sex (f!receiving), Hand job, Oversensitivity, Shower/Wall Sex, Nipple play, Alcohol, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Dom!Jay, Sub!Reader, Dom!Reader, Sub!Jay, Switch!Reader, Switch!Jay

SUMMARY After several weeks of being apart, your husband has a bit of making up to do for Valentine's Day after missing your call and showing up late to the penthouse.

WORD COUNT 4.8k

AUTHOR’S NOTE I'm so sorry I clowned everyone who was waiting for this drop the week of Valentine's (I got sooo busy i'm the biggest clown of them all) but I made it 5x longer than I first intended to and it's hot but also v intimate 🥵🌶

I’ve always considered Jay to be husband material, and here's a fic to show for it. If you wanna edge your brain out to husband CEO Jay in a penthouse, this is for you ♥️ Follow, like & share if you enjoyed! ⚰️ Masterlist © 2021-2023, Heart and Fangs. All rights reserved. Do not translate or post anywhere.

It was certainly something being young and married to Park Jongseong. Well, you wondered if you could be considered young anymore; perhaps to your older coworkers who were empty nesters, you could. To them, you had your whole life set ahead of you, but maybe you were viewed differently by your freshly graduated interns striving to get by the rigorous training standards you set for the Park's company.

Regardless, you felt young.

In a way, Jay made you feel like you had never aged a day since meeting him, and at the same time, it felt like you'd lived someone else's lifetime. Funny how a mere man could affect you so…

And how the prolonged separation between you two never got any easier over the years.

You were the partner who took it all in stride best. Not to say that Jay wasn't a persevering individual; he was your role model in that sense.

But he was undoubtedly the more clingy one; you had just been raised differently. 

After years of getting to know Jay and growing close enough to call him by nickname, it seemed like he was rarely given a chance to work past his anxieties as a child. You've witnessed him grow immensely, and you both had done what you had to do when duty called— whether that meant taking care of business during a month spent apart in different states or even countries. 

The possibility of infidelity has crossed your mind during these times; such thoughts were only normal, yet you chose to trust him fully and knew he trusted you too. 

After all, they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and the unwavering admiration Jay regards you with gives you the strength to approach each day with an assuredness that everything will be okay at the end of it.

In fact, your husband's signature brand of adoration only grew until it was too much to contain every damn time you finally reunited. 

Not that you ever complained with how exquisite of a lover he grew to be thanks to your guidance and vice-versa. Nor could you ever tire from the spoils of a blessed life, and Jay knew this fact incredibly well.  

However, since your flight into this new city touched down first, you took it upon yourself to prepare the penthouse you two booked with personal touches to celebrate a belated Valentine's. An overrated 'holiday,' at least by your standards, but your husband managed to change your perspective and always made it an occasion to look forward to since the year he met you. 

Of course, business only got busier throughout your marriage. Although you two agreed for the first time to celebrate Valentine's together a few days late this year, the compromise was a bit disheartening. 

The two of you only exchanged a short phone call that night and a few words of longing but nothing more, which was uncharacteristic of Jay. 

He must’ve been exhausted. 

And now, he was running late— much later than the ETA he originally shared with you. 

A plethora of reasons for his hold-up came to mind, and you were beginning to grow worried. Perhaps he was just touching down? Or his phone died? Maybe caught in traffic? It was storming outside, after all…

Even after you'd showered, slathered on your favorite whipped body butter, and thrown on a satin robe, ensuring your complexion was dewy with skincare, you still felt uneasy inside. 

While waiting for Jay's call on the leather sofa, you indulged in a favorite remedy; a full glass of red wine had been calling your name hours ago.

After swallowing the last drop of wine, you attempted to relax into the cushions with a heavy sigh and shut your eyes, a dull pain throbbing between your furrowed brows. You were left with no choice but to wait in the dark.

A knock from the entryway drew you from sleep. You slowly reached for your phone to see several unread messages from Jay, the most recent one reading 'I'm here'. 

You couldn't have reached the door quicker.

Jay stood in the doorway, a damp umbrella snapped in half in one hand and a dozen red roses with drenched petals in the other. He looked handsome as ever; no amount of rain could hamper his looks, droplets soaking into his thick lashes and brows. 

Your brows rose at his state and that he was alive and well. "Jay."

"This cheap ass umbrella inverted the moment I stepped out of the Uber," Jay stated with a straight face, a huff leaving his chest as he stepped inside and dropped the umbrella. 

He automatically raised his arms to embrace you but thought better of it as he took in your rather dry attire with a soft smile, the kind that was only ever reserved for you behind closed doors. He slowly admired you from head to toe, releasing a quiet exhale. You couldn't have felt warmer under your thin excuse of a robe. 

"You look beautiful. I'm sorry I'm late," Jay lightly caressed your lower back with a certain sweetness in his touch, knowing precisely what it did to you between your thighs. 

You reached out first to draw him against your chest tightly. As if you cared about a little bit of rainwater.

"It's about time," you murmured against his neck, pulling back to meet those eyes you missed peering into over meals and late-night conversations, "Do you know how worried I was? Have you eaten yet—"

Within a mere blink, you felt Jay's fingers slide through the locks of your hair, and his lips move against yours with an urgency that reminded you of your college days spent entwined together, fogging up the windows of his vintage car parked on a hill. 

In fact, it was a starved, apologetic kiss worth three long weeks of pent-up frustration from tirelessly rubbing shoulders with investors and back-to-back business meetings without your calm, grounding presence by his side at the end of the day. 

Letting his thoughts run wild about you past midnight and well into his dreams did nothing to quell his heart and body's immense ache for you.

It wasn't nearly enough to fist himself underneath the steaming shower head, feeling like he was about to faint from both burnout and a heady sense of self-fulfilling lust that never quite satisfied. He needed to feel you in his arms, against his beating chest, spilling over his parched lips.

To delight in every pitch of your airy voice, depending on the sweet spots he chose to assault with his tongue and deft fingers.

That's why, while he'd usually continue with charming conversation and offer the smuggest of smiles, all he could do right now was press closer to you like some sort of pitiful creature starved of affection stealing away your warmth, the plush-like softness of your breasts against his firm chest reminding him of all that lay ahead for you two on this well-earned night to be spent reacquainting himself with your body and soul— not that he'd ever forgotten in the slightest. 

It didn't matter that his flight had gotten delayed, that it'd taken him one too many hours than it should have to meet you in the middle because you stood before him now like some sort of mirage, beautiful and as lovely as ever. 

"Jay," You tried to scold despite your cheeks heating up.

"Haven't eaten yet," Your husband confessed, dragging his lips over the curve of your throat with such a tenderness that threatened to buckle your knees. He dropped his palms to knead greedily over the satin fabric draped over your ass in contrast, making you moan softly, "M' starving though. Indulge me a bit with something sweet before dinner, please?"

You sighed, amused, "Dessert before dinner? Think you deserve it?"

With swift fingers, you were already loosening the knot of his tie, which he offered you a grateful look for while running his hands up your spine and shamelessly pressing his hardness between your thighs. Your proximity alone was riling him up, and by handing over the reins, he knew exactly what you would do in response to his overwhelming neediness.

"Oh, I'll earn it," Jay hotly whispered against your lips, practically melding himself to you in any way he could. 

"So willing," The soft corners of your tinted lips tugged upwards as you brushed a strand of dark hair from his half-lidded eyes, feeling Jay shiver beneath his suit. 

"Anything and everything for you," He nodded, a knowing smile forming on his lips. 

It seemed like your baby was counting on you to kill him slowly.

You took the bouquet from his grasp and enjoyed its rosy fragrance before setting it aside on the glass dining table. "Come on. You deserve a hot bath after such a long day, love."

So you tugged him along by his necktie into the spacious master bedroom that reminded you of a lot of the homes you built together. Upon entering, one first noticed the long panel of windows that reached the ceiling lining the left wall, overlooking the city's vast nightlife below. 

Of course, the only view Jay could possibly focus on with parted lips was the sway of your hips and the subtle outline of lingerie he managed to make out under your robe, for you knew he adored lace on your skin just as much as leather. 

As enticing as the massive bed in the center appeared, he followed you into the softly lit master bathroom with a rainfall shower above the enormous tub. With a push of a silver button on the wall panel, the tub began to fill with bubbling, hot water; it could fit a good ten individuals if desired.

You let him look over the space while bending over to light up the several candles you arranged along the wide marble edges of the jacuzzi with a pack of matches.

"Leave it to you to find a place like this," Jay complimented you for your impeccable taste, watching your face through the extensive wall-length mirror just above the tub. 

The space immediately began to smell of elegant rum and white musk. The master bathroom was alight with candles thanks to your quick work, a haze of vapor wafting over the tub's edge. 

"It's all ours for tomorrow and the day after."

"We'll have to make every second count then…" You could feel his gaze licking up your legs just by the hunger tinging his voice like curls of smoke. 

"Like we always do," You flicked your wrist to extinguish the match and toss it into a silver bin before making your way back to Jay, slowly smoothing your palms across his clothed chest and broad shoulders, simply taking him in for the first time in what felt like an eternity. 

Due to time differences and your schedules being packed more than usual this past month, personal calls were seldom made between you, aside from virtual business meetings involving other potential clients and shareholders.

Jay's eyes were alight with excitement as he stared down at you despite the shadows beneath them; you couldn't keep yourself from drawing his face close and placing a kiss on his lips while his hands moved restlessly across your waist, his hips nudging against yours. 

"Mm, please…" 

"Patience, baby," You reminded and gave him an expectant look that he heeded.

Although he couldn't wait, he knew better than to speed up the process you so enjoyed dragging out. Piece by piece, you started to strip him bare, unhurried and teasingly in the most intimate manner.

First, you slipped his tie from his nape, reminded of all the times you've used it as a blindfold or to bind his wrists, then you shoved off his blazer. His wet shirt stuck to his skin like a transparent fabric, and you undid button after button to reveal his toned chest just above a sharply etched set of abs, rainwater, and spiced cologne clinging to his skin.

"Honestly, I haven't had much time to work out these days…" Jay's tongue clicked in dissatisfaction, although you noticed his eyelashes lowering at you. His palm rested against the pulse of your neck, fingers softly curling into your hair.

You cut him off right there, your heated touch under his clothes pulling a restrained moan from his throat. "Missing a few workouts won't hurt you, just don't skip your meals. Quit being so hard on yourself," You reassured him, tugging the ends of his shirt out of his cut waistline and traveling even lower, "You're definitely overthinking it."

Jay cracked a relieved smile, stroking your face, "I have to when my beloved is this beautiful… Ah—"

Your fingertips rubbed lightly over the outline of his throbbing bulge, causing his hips to chase your touch until you finally dropped his trousers to the floor in a haphazard pile, leaving Jay in his tight briefs.

"Fucking driving me crazy…" He caressed your cheek and over your arm in the most pleading manner, his chest rising and falling heavily. You sorely missed the sound of his belabored breaths tickling your ears.

With a lick of your lips, you finally dragged the band of Jay's black briefs down his thighs to witness his hard cock springing forth and dribbling with precum. 

After scraping your nails down his hips and brushing past his trail of hair, your caress just ghosted along his length; all he had to do was press forward, and then he'd finally feel you—

"Go and hop in. I'll be right back with drinks," You stroked Jay's chin as you disappeared into the bedroom to retrieve a bottle of champagne and chilled flutes from the mini-fridge. 

"Fuck," You heard him drawl under his breath, causing you to smirk.

His feet were already bringing him to climb over the marble ledge into the tub, but his inner cheek was caught between his teeth, a knot bobbing in his throat due to desperation. He wobbled a bit before descending into the bath, terribly dizzy, no thanks to you.

Upon re-entering, you found it adorable that Jay sank into the heated water and looked up at you with anticipation. The warmth should've begun to release the tension throughout his body, but it persisted, thanks to your enticing visage.

While you perched on the ledge and busied yourself with pouring champagne, Jay momentarily pulled up near your legs and pressed a chaste kiss against your knee, stroking his hands under the edge of your satin robe. 

Experiencing the desire of his touch after so long took your breath away; he squeezed your thigh as you handed him a bubbly glass full of almond-scented champagne.

Jay caught your wrist, bringing it to his lips to place soft yet insatiable kisses up your palm and inner wrist, gazing into your eyes all the while. 

"I missed you," He reiterated sincerely, making your cheeks warm despite that hours had passed since you last had anything to drink. "I'm sorry I didn't call you back on Thursday. My schedule really got the best of me this week…" 

You could hear the guilt lingering in his voice.

In a typical fashion, you clinked the rim of his glass before knocking the flute back completely, and Jay followed suit. 

You swiped your tongue over your lips, setting the glass aside. "Hm, I suppose you have a bit to make up for, don't you?"

"A lot," Jay reached out to tip your chin towards him and captured your moistened lips, a gesture you returned easily.

"And you will. But first, you can start by sitting back and letting me take care of you, love."

You dipped your legs into the water while seated on the ledge, ushering Jay to sit back between them as you pumped an intoxicating sweet musk-scented gel into your palm. His immediate obedience pleased you; he leaned into your touches as you slowly lathered his body to your satisfaction. 

Brushing over his nipples alone drew rumbly sounds from Jay's throat, but it wasn't until you leaned further over his shoulder and slid your hand down his abdomen to rub against the base of his cock that he failed to choke back a groan. 

"Fuck, you're killing me," Jay echoed your thoughts as his chest heaved, enduring your teasing. 

You hummed knowingly, continuing to pump him from base to tip while nibbling at his reddened ear and flicking his nipple with the other hand. He began thrusting into your grip, chasing a high only you could grant him as you brought him closer and closer to his end…

And then you straightened up, pulling away.

"No, no…" Jay turned on you with a whine and placed his hands on either side of your clothed hips, hauling himself slightly out of the water to press near. You weren't making this easy on him at all.

You felt the water from his body soak through your robe but kept your hands off him. "Thought you were gonna be good for me?"

"I am, but you're teasing me too much," He insisted, rubbing circles into your hips, making you throb between your thighs.

"Don't you think it's about time for you to start making up for things?"

His eyelashes lowered before he dipped his head down to your lace-covered chest. You felt the surface of his hot tongue dip against your cleavage and swirl up your decollete before he started sucking hungry kisses into your skin.

No time was spared in disrobing you to reveal your tight set of strappy, sensual lingerie, a deep crimson against your gorgeous skin. The red mesh lined across your breasts and mound did little to cover the perkiness of your nipples and the sheen of arousal in the place Jay wanted to taste you the most.

He squeezed your breasts, continuing his trail of kisses down your smooth, soft torso with a dimming look in his eyes. Your soft chuckle turned into a gasp when Jay suddenly parted your knees with a firm hold and pressed his tongue against your mesh-covered slit, tasting the sweet excitement you'd been hiding from him since he stepped into the penthouse. 

"Oh—"

The steam rolling off the water paired with the champagne on an empty stomach already made you lightheaded, let alone how Jay started working his tongue over your swollen pussy. 

"That's perfect, baby," You praised him, lifting your hips off the ledge so he could remove your panties, although they were lovely on you for the moment.

He determined long ago that your body laid bare was something to be worshiped altogether. 

"You're perfect," He emphasized with a gentle kiss against your clit, followed by a messy lap of his tongue down to your slit and back up to capture your clit once more. 

Your breath shuddered, eyes shutting with your head tipped back to focus on the incredible sensations of Jay's lips and tongue— his skills never disappointed you. He did his share of messing with you as well; the circles over your nub would grow lazy, and the thrusting of his tongue, shallow, until you slid your hands through his hair, bucking your hips for more.

A glint in Jay's eyes appeared; he relished how you tugged on his strands for a bit longer, and then he indulged you.

His thumb firmly but gently rolled over your clit with swift expertise while he buried his tongue deep into your plush insides, ready to savor the taste of your release. You counted the few seconds you could hold out until your insides clenched and pleasure pulsed outwards towards the tips of your fingers and toes.

"Fuck— M-Mmn, Jay!"

The orgasm Jay gave you was blinding and debilitating as if syrup was released into your veins, making you feel completely euphoric.

With each jerk against his face, you spilled more onto his tongue— could feel him wiggle his wet muscle even deeper as he sought after every drop. He knew that for as lavish a lifestyle you loved to live with him, you still never liked to waste.

Even as you were trembling through the aftershocks of your high, he slid two of his thick fingers into you and proudly dragged his heavy tongue around your puffy clit, his mischievous intent made clear. 

He wanted to see you wrecked.

"Haah— Jay—"At the whiny sound of his name, he stroked your insides, building up the tension in your tummy once more and way faster than you could comprehend. 

"Mm," Jay groaned against your clit with each kiss and suckle like he was enjoying every bit of you. The pads of his fingers rubbed at your sweet spot with vigor and quickly made you lose control of your limbs.

Jay heard your breath stutter as your thighs clamped firmly around his head. You haphazardly slid onto your back, head dangling off the marble ledge as he ruthlessly drew your next orgasm from your body.

"Oh god," You moaned helplessly, warm pussy pulsating around Jay's fingers as he fucked you hard with them, "A-Ah— Ahh!"

Your hole gushed more this time, squirting across his hand and coating his chin as he readily swallowed all of you. You tugged at your nipples and writhed in delight with each soft peck he placed on your sensitive skin. 

Jay just adored seeing you so content after pleasing you to the fullest, or so you thought.

Not a moment later, he stood tall above you, and you let him pull you into his arms, hopping up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He held you against him firmly, letting you slide against his hard length trapped against your abdomen. The rain shower lightly misted down over your intertwined bodies.

"Guess you haven't lost your touch," You murmured, tracing your nails down his neck.

In two short steps, he slammed you back against the fogged mirror with enough force to send jolts of excitement through your body, but he cushioned the back of your head with his hand. Your heart thrummed against your chest, entrance already dripping with fresh arousal.

"Never," Jay kissed you hard, making you believe he meant it. 

The wetness between your legs was evident as it mingled with his, "Feel free to divorce me the day I do."

"Jay, don't say that. I was just joking—"

"If there comes a day I can't make you cum all over me, I don't deserve you. That's a fact."

"Fine then, same goes for me."

He huffed, kissing your collarbone, "You don't ever have to worry about that."

You laughed and rolled your hips eagerly against his, "It doesn't make sense for you to hold only yourself to that standard."

He raised his head to look you in the eye seriously, "I know, I just… I'm not always there for you, although I want to be. Everything in our life is amazing, but… if we lose it all to something out of our control— I just want you to always be happy. With or without me."

Your brows rose in slight surprise at the combination of insecurity and vulnerability in his confession.

"I'm always with you, Jay. It's gotten tough before, and it'll get tough again, but that's what we signed up for the day we got married, and it's not ever going to deter me from wanting to be with you for life."

Jay seemed to be absorbing your reassuring words, the knot between his brows relaxing, a relieved smile forming on his flushed lips.

"Besides, you can't fail. You have me by your side," You reminded Jay confidently of your business track record, stealing a kiss from him.

He laughed, "I'm sorry for ever doubting you, my love."

"Again. If you're so sorry, prove it…"

You saw that he trusted your previous words like you trusted him with you in his arms, so he swiftly lifted you by the hips, his grip on your ass positively possessive, and sunk you down onto the blushing tip of his aching cock.

"Mmh, that I can do."

He kept you there, and frustratedly, you tugged down the straps of your bralette and unlatched the band, throwing it far over Jay's shoulder onto the floor. Jay's tongue found your hard nipples, flicking over them as you bounced on the tip of his cock, the moist sounds echoing off the damp walls.

"Jay, I swear to god if you don't—!"

Right then, he sheathed you fully on his cock, letting you feel the way he throbbed while you squeezed him tight. The moans you both let out sounded equally desperate; it was maddening. 

"God— look at you, swallowing up my cock so easily even though it's been a few weeks. Been playing with yourself, haven't you? Making use of the dildo that I sent you the day I left?"

You blushed, thinking back to the nights you filled yourself to the brim with Jay's ridiculous yet genius idea of a customized dildo, and admitted the truth, "Maybe, but it doesn't compare to you."

"What do you mean? It's my cock," Jay smirked, hell-bent on teasing you even though it was his idea to give it to you. 

Although they managed to capture each pulsing vein and even the curve of his cock…

"Can't feel it throb or get harder," You insisted, "It doesn't feel hot or—"

Jay thrusted sharply, causing you to cry out in pleasure. "Or what?"

"Or reach deep enough—"

He drew closer, "And?" 

"It doesn't fill me up with cum like you do." Your demure eyes, heavy with dew, pinned him in place as he noticed the longing in them.

"That what you want, my love? Want me to pump your sweet pussy full of my cum?"

"Fuck yeah," You gnawed on your lower lip with a breathy giggle.

With that, he pistoned his hips up into you even harder right as you tightened around his cock. Jay watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, getting lost in the heat of the moment, a sight he never tired of seeing. His balls ached with the urgent need to fill you up, so he pressed you against the wall, tightening his hold around you while his other hand found your sensitive little clit.

"Gimme one more then, sweetheart, c'mon," He encouraged, rolling his hips up into your heat while working his fingers 'round and 'round your sticky clit. 

The entirety of your body shook immensely once more, your nails unintentionally clawing stripes of red across his shoulder blades at the overwhelming sensations bombarding you.

"I love you, ___," You heard Jay pant against your ear before letting go of the unbearable tension seizing your core.

Your cries of pleasure drove him to release, cock twitching as he filled you up with cum that spilled from your entrance with each thrust, punctuated by a deep growl.

"There," Jay pressed a sweet kiss to your lips and ground into you one last time, watching your eyes flutter, "My baby's stuffed to the brim with my cum..."

You hummed happily against his cheek, could feel him leaking out of you.

Jay slid your body back down into the comforting warm water as you caught your breath in his arms.

"Geez… I think I'm gonna be sore tomorrow morning," You admitted.

"I'd be more than willing to give you a little massage then."

"That sounds really lovely," Your lips curled into a smile as you stretched your arms overhead and wrapped them around Jay's neck, "Not so sure about relaxing, though." 

"Why not both an invigorating massage and then a relaxing massage? One after the other, no extra charge?" That roguish smirk of Jay's was back again.

"Two for the price of one?" You feigned a curious peek at him. Your husband's smile had gone soft.

"Only for you, my love."

You gave him a pointed look, "And the price is?"

"You stay for my three-course breakfast afterward." He watched your eyes grow big in excitement, seeing that he hadn't had the chance to cook a homemade meal for you in months.

"So long as it's breakfast in bed," You couldn't help but beam up at him.

"You read my mind," Jay licked at your lips for permission, and you slid your tongue against his in kind.

Jay locked his lips with yours for a deep yet present kiss, one that expressed much more than mere words ever could— and when he slowly pulled back, he could see his future reflected in your eyes just as he did on the day he married you; him by your side, for as long as you'd have him.

A forever earned.

[junnieverse]

— TAEHYUN AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ! 💭

➙ boyfriend taehyun thoughts

pairings: kang taehyun x gn!reader

genre: fluff

request: " Hello <3. Kang Taehyun as boyfriend ? Don't overwork yourself pls "

warnings: lowercase intended, not proofread

a/n: hi anon, thanks for this request and cute message, make sure you follow it too. this got much longer than I intended but we all need some tae in our lives, what an angel <3

he would be such a dreamy boyfriend

but then again this just may be me projecting but who wouldn't be completely smitten over taehyun

he's smart, funny, kind, talented, stunning and the best of all, he can cook!

definitely the type of boyfriend to prefer stay in dates because he wants to cook for and/or with you

gatekeeps how he does his magic tricks but he shows you a few of the easy ones he knows

all of his FULLY shirtless pictures he takes go straight to you and then he crops them to post for fans (sobs hysterically)

taehyun remembers every little thing and detail about you that you've told him, he's like a (y/n)-pedia, sometimes he even remembers things that you forgot

massages

just thinking about it has me screaming into a pillow swinging my feet

taehyun will give you a massage whenever and wherever you need one

was slouching the entire day studying? he's going to massage your back and shoulders

had to walk in heels the entire day? not only will he carry sneakers or flat shoes for you but he will also give you a piggy back ride and then massage the tension away in your feet

where do I order my own kang taehyun?

not overly affectionate in the sense of giving especially in public but he loves receiving it from you

hug him, cuddle with him, kiss him all over, doesn't admit it much but he loves it

if he's not holding your hand then his arm is around your waist

he loves head scratches :((

so whenever he sees you relaxing he'll join you and lay his head on your lap and your hand automatically plays with his hair

definition of 'ask and you shall receive'

if you ever so mention something you've been wanting or you thought it looked cute, best believe he is going to get it for you even if you didn't actively ask for it

tyun is very much dominant and a provider sort of man in my opinion, in that aspect of wanting to take care of you and get you whatever you want

all he wants in return is your love, he will do everything else to shower you with his love in every way that he can

he almost never actually gets mad at you

he does that cute little thing where he puffs out his chest and has his hands on his waist and playfully scolds you acting all serious

because you find it so cute, you end up laughing and he breaks character

but in the rare cases where he is upset or you both do fight, he is definitely the type to talk it out because neither of you can go to sleep angry

if you do try to leave angry at him and tell him you're sleeping on the couch, well best believe he will sleep on that couch with you

if you both have similar music tastes then there's definitely multiple shared playlists you have and you always recommend new songs the other should listen to

girlfriend privileges are real

let's you win during play fights and when you catch on he lies claiming you won fair and square so you get bragging rights that you're stronger than him

oh new txt album and songs coming out? you've heard them even before they were released

he will carry your shopping bags, all you have to do is buy whatever you want to your heart's content and he will carry everything and pay for it too

he always goes out his way to show his love to you with big and small gestures but he brushes it off like it's nothing

bf who listens and maybe the s/o who talks alot trope?

genuinely such a great listener and support system

he makes sure to listen to all your vents or just be a shoulder to cry on when you're feeling down

quite sentimental with the gifts he picks out for you so it'll often times be something that holds a certain memory or it just reminds him of you

"Just saw this and picked it up along the way." he would say as if it were nothing special

despite seeming tough around everyone else, that is your squishy marshmallow

tyun gets so soft around you

his favourite way of kissing you would be cupping your face in his hands before he leans in to kiss you

the most obvious one, the best girlfriend privilege of dating kang taehyun, he sings to you all the time

[static-radio-ao3]

@jegulus-microfic // january 1 // prompt: decent // words: 465

There are three knocks on the bathroom door and a call of are you decent? as Regulus dries himself off.

“Yeah, come in!” He calls back, glancing over his shoulder when James opens the door and shuffles inside, a stack of clean clothes in his hands. As soon as his eyes land on Regulus, he squeezes them shut.

“I thought you said you were decent!” He says, voice pitchy and panicked.

Regulus can’t help but laugh, glancing down at his naked form. A smattering of hickeys and bite marks along the insides of his thighs, on his hipbones. He noticed a few on his neck earlier as well and quietly lamented the fact that he’d most likely have to cover them up unless he wanted Barty and Evan up his ass about it.

“James, you saw me naked last night. Why are you being precious about it now?”

“I’m just trying to be respectful,” he murmurs, eyes peeking open but careful not to look at Regulus. He moves gingerly towards the sink, setting the clothes down. Sweatpants and a shirt. James’, probably. Hopefully.

“Oh? Were you also trying to be respectful when you spread me out on yo-”

James darts forward, a hand clamping over his mouth to shut him up. “Shh.” Regulus feels his hot breath fan the side of his face. “Sirius is down the hall.”

Regulus manages to refrain from licking at the palm of James’ hand where it’s pressed against his lips, but he did give in to the urge to roll his eyes. He pries James’ hand away and says, “If he didn’t hear us last night, he sure isn’t going to hear us now.”

It sounds more like a suggestion than Regulus intended, but he is more than willing to go with the flow here. After all, isn’t that what got him into this situation in the first place? A New Year’s kiss that escalated until Regulus was sure he had fireworks shooting through his veins, the ones in the sky paling in comparison to James’ hands on him.

“You don’t know that,” James argues, hand resting on Regulus’ cheek now.

And listen. Regulus Black is many things, but he is a little brother before anything else, so he opens his mouth and takes a deep breath, gearing up for a loud call of Sirius’ name

Before he can do that, though, the hand on his cheek shifts, moving to hold his jaw in a firm grip. “Shut up,” James tells him, eyes no longer shifting about the room but focused on him instead. With their faces so close together, Regulus can see the exact moment James realizes their position. The brown of his iris being swallowed up by lust.

There we go, Regulus thinks. And then: “Make me.”

[writella]

Trinkets; The Gifts of Gold He Gave You

Synopsis: A detailed record of all the special objects Daryl has found for you while hunting, riding, supply gathering, and living in the various places he has in the new world. These objects often lead to sweet moments of kindness, joy, and understanding between the two of you, deepening your connection. Although they are things others might not think much of— they were simply small gestures or trinkets after all— you believed these memories and mementos to be gifts of gold; they would shine in your mind forever onward.

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, mutual pining, kisses, lots of love and ♡ sweetness ♡ (true self indulgence at its finest), but there are also descriptions of trauma, abuse, and self-hate. Though other than that, it’s nothing else except Daryl being an endearing friend and future loverboy to you. This travels across the plot and setting of season 6-8, but it might not be a perfect fit. Lastly, even though these can be read anthologically, I did write them in a storyline as if there was an order in which Daryl gives or does these things with the reader as their relationship grows, so some past trinkets might be mentioned in the next story, but it truly isn’t too big of a deal; this is one you can have fun with! ♡

Author’s Note: My dearest reader, this one took much longer than I intended, but I think it’s because I put so much of my silly heart-filled imagination into it— truly one of my favorites to write thus far. I’m just so happy to give it to you. Feel free to read these all at once, one at a time, or pick the ones that best fit who you are. with love, writella . ♡ ⋆ ☽

Trinkets moodboard & visualizer here!

Trinket No. 1: The Ribbon ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⟡.•

A Bow from a Bowman

Daryl was out on a hunt one morning when he found it. It’s like he was compelled to pick it up, he did it without even thinking. It was nothing, honestly: kind of silly really, and flimsy, slightly covered by grass blades— it was dirty and discarded. But there was something about it, something tender… it reminded him of you, even though in some ways still, he hardly knew you at all.

It had been over a month since Daryl came back home to Alexandria; just a month since you entered what was supposed to be your new home. But also a week or so long journey it had been to unexpectedly find you and bring you back.

He remembered it well: you were covered in dirt, tired and hungry, running for your life from the past group you were with. He was going to let you go and mind his business— you looked scared of him anyway when you crashed into him. But most importantly, he had just lost his crossbow, his bike, and maybe even a little bit of his dignity to Dwight who stole them. He didn’t feel like getting tricked again, especially since it takes a lot to trick him; he wasn’t letting that happen again. Especially not the day after. And most especially not for a seemingly young and innocent-looking girl like Dwight’s wife, Sherry or that kid they were with, Tina.

But then, he heard the yelling, the hollering, the men– they wanted you, and none of it was for the right reasons. Very wrong and scary reasons they were indeed, ones he would soon come to understand were things you’d never want to live out or discuss again. He understood that feeling, so he stayed. He hid behind a tree. He decided to help again. Who knows of your innocence, but what was definitely true was that you were a lost and lonely girl in the woods. He knew a thing or two about those unfortunately, those stories ended badly.

Sad enough, the hiding and helping— or attempting to— led him to become a prisoner with you and your ‘group.’ He barely got scraps of food, and every night was just another day of seeing your tears, your face in a permanent state of desolation and misery; staying ever silent even when you were yelled at— even when you were forced to do things you didn’t want to do. You looked scared and small.

It was only when you all reached a hospital, one you burned to the ground just to get away from them, that Daryl saw the fight in you. You didn’t even ask for his help and he tried to save you, but in the end, you saved him. A silent soldier, you were. He returned the favor with the least he could do: he took you home.

And now there you both were. You sat by Rick’s fireplace. No one was home yet, and you had just put Judith down for the night. Daryl found you there on the floor with a book. He quietly sat near you. All you two said was hello.

And this was normal, actually– the being around each other, showing up unannounced, sitting beside each other– talking or not– or you, trying to help him with whatever work he was up to. He tried to fight it at first, but it became a regular thing. It’s what helped Daryl get to know you, and you to him.

You were equally as fierce as the fire you created not long ago, but just as gentle. Just as desiring to smile and create friendships. He knew that now. And he— he was just as rock solid and straightforward as the crossbow he once carried, but just delicate. Just as easily hurt and as quick to hide, yet so deeply desiring of loyalty and acceptance. You know that now too.

It’s still so soon, but you admired him, so deeply. You wanted to learn from him. You thought he was strong, and you wanted to be strong. All that anguish and pain and he came out a fighter, a leader.

Little did you know that is exactly what he thought of you. He went from seeing you cry yourself to sleep every night to becoming the kind and generous friend you were to almost everyone you met. Always offering to care for Judith, or allowing Carl to come to you to talk, or learning about guns and shooting with Rosita. And of course finding a way to go on supply runs, or learn to hunt, or fight walkers with Daryl as much as you could. As always, he pretended not to care that much, but he did. He couldn’t help it. He values his independence, but it was nice that there was someone who wanted to be around him so much. And he admired you for his own reasons as well: You’re someone who fills others up with lightness when such dark things have happened. He felt like that every time you two we’re together. He wanted to learn from you too.

As he sat there, thinking, he wondered if maybe that’s why he thought of you when he saw it. Maybe it was the brightness and softness of it, despite finding it on the ground, despite it being dirty. He cleaned it up, and it still shined, that’s like you but… he was still unsure. Maybe it truly was nothing, maybe it was stupid.

He looked to his side, watching your figure for a moment as he decided what to do. You were on your stomach, laying on the small rug that sat in front of the fire. You were continuing the chapter you were on, paying little attention to him. He only said ‘hey,’ after all. And you did wave back, you asked him how his day was, but all he gave you was a typical response, ‘fine,’ he had said. You thought maybe this visit wasn’t about talking so you left it. And all of this was typical anyway, for Daryl to come by Rick’s, or for you two to sit in peaceful silence, but then you started to see him fidget in his spot in your periphery, like he couldn’t decide how he wanted to sit, hands adjusting his jeans, moving things in his pocket.

“Do you wanna go to the porch?” You thought maybe he was reaching for a smoke. “I can put on the baby monitor…” He just shook his head at the suggestion.

You decide to move to the spot next to him, leaning your back against the wall. “Did something happen today?” Your voice was soft as you tilt your head, trying to reach his eyes.

“No,” he shook his head again, he was facing forward. “It’s just…”

“What?” You asked calmly.

He found it hard to speak, “Just- just brought something.” He reached into his pocket one last time, his hand in a fist as it made its way closer between the two of you until he started to release his fingers from his palm slowly.

It was a ribbon. A pearly light pink one. Just scattered in his hand. “It’s stupid,” he grumbled quietly, trying to shove it back down his pocket, but you stop him.

“Wait,” your hands gently cupping the other side of his and then you pick it up, letting him go. You wrap the ribbon around your finger and you tie it into a bow, examining it in your palm now. “This is for me?” Soft disbelief enchanted your voice. You made sure not to sound too excited or too surprised. You didn’t want to scare him, especially since he replied with:

“It's nothin’.” He was feeling slightly embarrassed.

“It's so nice,” your voice continued in its understated tone despite your smile becoming uncontainable. You couldn’t help the way your lips were curling upward, it was even hurting your cheekbones to try to make your teeth shine through a little less— Daryl Dixon just gave you a gift. And it was a little pink thing at that. Perhaps miracles are real. “It's perfect,” you say, “I can wear it in my hair.”

“It's stupid.” He repeated, brushing you off, but you saw right through him. Daryl doesn’t do anything for no reason at all.

“It's not.” Your words are so kind as your interject, “You know, sometimes it's the smallest things that mean everything. They become our favorite things even.” Your lips pressed together, forming another smile as he meets your gaze, “Like your vest that needs to be patched up.”

“It's fine,” he almost sounded defensive. It made you laugh.

As messed up as it is, it truly was fine. It was his and he loved it; that made it so. And he didn’t only have the vest, he also had his cut-up button-downs, and those ties he laced on the bottom of his jeans— you knew those were probably because the pants available didn’t always fit all the time, but nonetheless— these were all things that made him and his clothing unique from the others. Even in the apocalypse, Daryl was one of the few that maintained a personal style. You couldn’t help but love it. He could, and often always was, the guy covered all in dirt and grim and blood but he still had something about his look that was simply just him.

You missed that. Having those personal touches, and now here Daryl was with this. The simplest thing, but he brought it for you. It was your special piece, your special something. It truly was perfect.

“C’mere,” Daryl gestured, taking the ribbon from your hand and moving your shoulders so your back faced him. He undid the bow and cuffed your hair, he actually almost yanked your head with the way he gathered the ponytail, honestly– he forgets his strength, but you said nothing. Only giggling slightly, but you were mostly quiet. You tried to keep it down, afraid he might stop if he thought you were making fun of him. You wanted to reel at the closeness for as long as you could. You couldn’t believe the fact that he was doing something so domestic— you almost couldn’t breathe. He tried to detangle some pieces with his fingers and then he tilted his head to the side to leave some shorter pieces out at the front. He didn’t know what he was doing and he probably was doing it badly, but he tried his best to be delicate. He’s never touched you like this before. Every time his fingers accidentally brushed against your ear or your neck he relearned just how soft you are. And every feeling of his skin almost made you shiver; like when someone whispers in your ear, it always feels so sensitive, traveling down until you feel it everywhere. His touches felt like that. You always end up feeling his everywhere. He’s entrancing, filling you with hearts and stars.

Finally, he ties the ribbon into a bow right at the top of the ponytail he created. He’s done. He lets go. They shapes and colors fade. Everything is cold again.

But to him, everything looked warm and vibrant. Looking at you was a sight so sweet and so gentle among all this dark wreckage of the world— it was precisely how he saw you: the way the ribbon now laced around your hair looked like an angelic embrace.

You turn to him, “Thank you, Daryl.” Your smile is so sincere, so lovely, there might as well be a halo and hearts invisibly drawn all around you.

A moment passes as you continue to look at each other and your heart jumps. He’s still looking directly at you. There are moments that he looks away and you can’t help it, the bashfulness creeps up on you two, but he’s giving you all his attention; it feels great. You decide to take the chance, you can't help yourself, you hug him, you have to. It has been so long since someone gave you something. So long since someone thought of you so specifically and intimately.

He’s caught off guard, his hands don’t wrap around you until a few seconds later, but when they do, they are sure, and tight, more sure of it than you surprisingly.

You breathe him in, giggling again, “I’m surprised you smell this good.”

“Fuck you.” It makes you laugh just a bit louder, it’s the nicest ‘fuck you,’ you’ve ever heard. Its tone has a hint of sincerity in tandem with humor in just the same way you delivered your line. He shakes his head, “You’re silly.”

He lets you go and you turn away, but it’s only just a little. He watches how the ribbon lays right where he put it again, seeing the side of your face light up with your rosy smile as you sway your head. You’re trying to not make it obvious that you want to feel the wag of the bow and your hair back there so you do it slowly, it just feels so cool and so pretty. You liked it so much. You didn’t even know what it looked like yet, but it already made you feel more like yourself. Like a part of you that had left before this world began— it fit well like a missing piece finally snapping into place. It was your unique touch and he found it for you. He did it for you. Just for you.

For me, you repeated it in your mind, he found it just for me.

Trinket No. 2: The Lesson ō͡≡o˞̶ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Turnpikes, Gunshots, and Dreams

You had asked and asked for weeks with no let up. It made you start getting creative with your pleas: “You know, Daryl, we really should be teaching each other our skills,” you had insisted, sarcasm lining your voice. No one else in the group knew how to ride yet they were doing just fine, but you were incessant, “You never know what kind of situation we’ll be in where we might need it… I could die,” your hands raise as your voice does, “and your bike could be my only escape but I wouldn’t even know how to ride it!”

He would always just stare at you blankly, ignoring you, especially when you got dramatic like this right before you two were leaving. “Get on or stay,” he would say, “go help Rosita or somethin’.”

You’d grit your teeth and get on regardless.

But then one day, one lucky, lucky day for you— it was your earnest approach, and your silly smile, and sun-filled eyes that got the best of him as they looked up to meet his darker ones. “Please,” you said, stretching out the word, it was just as cheesy as your smile. He looked back at you from his front seat as you continued, “I just want to feel capable and- free… I don’t know,” but you did, you meant it and felt it from deep inside you. “To know I have the option I wanted to… I… I didn’t really have those before.”

He was still for a moment and then he nodded, restarting the ignition. You guessed that was another no until you started to ride past the walkers that lined the outer gate. “An hour,” he said, his eyes forward as the trees became a blur to both of you, “then we gotta get work done.” You wrapped your arms around him tightly, you only used to cup his waist or hold his shoulders, but you felt fearless today, head leaning against his back and neck, arms hugging around his torso. He finally said yes.

As time went by, you had gotten comfortable with completing your drills. You learned the controls, how to shift gears, how to waddle and power walk with the bike, operate the clutch, throttle, and lift your feet up, riding on a straight path all by yourself. Turns were still hard though, and the fact that Daryl always insisted you think about the worst-case scenario wasn’t the greatest either. He’d look you dead in the eye, his voice clear and unrestrained from his usual grovels as he said, “If a herd is comin’, or people are shooting, or if there’s something tryin’ to crash into you, you need to think about how you’re going down. Decide on what won’t fuck you up completely, then do it. ” He always got way too close to your face without realizing it in those moments, his finger almost crashing into your nose as he vigorously pointed to get the idea across.

“If something goes down, I’m not arguing,” you say. “You'll be in front.” You meant it, your voice was quiet, you understood.

But really, you didn’t: “If something go down, either of us should be able to do it.” He paused to make sure you got it this time, “That's the point.”

As if you didn’t already sense it, this was the first time you absolutely understood that Daryl was serious when he decided to do anything. Full commitment. Start to finish. You said you wanted to learn, that you wanted to be capable, then that’s exactly what he was going to teach you. You would take it seriously too.

Soon enough, Daryl allowed you to ride out of the gates of Alexandria first instead of switching off after you got a few miles out. You were getting better. So much so that today would be a different day, he explained. Daryl wanted you to ride to the Hilltop. This would be the longest distance you’ve ever rode. A whole 23 miles. But before you guys got there he would steer you in the direction of a turnpike: he wanted to practice speed, and most crucially for you, right and left turning.

His weapons and guns were strapped to his lower body, some on his thigh holster, and a machine gun over his back, all just in case, and his hold on your waist was fixed as you rode. It made you feel like a child and such a little teenager all in one with how excited you would get. Not only were you becoming skilled at riding a whole fucking motorcycle, but you were the one he was holding onto this time and it was the longest amount of time he was holding you at that.

As you reached the turnpike, he guided you around the semi-circular road. Continuing on, you saw a few walkers in the distance. He told you to speed up, there was enough space on the road and there were only four of them, they were far away anyway.

You looked back at your surroundings, other than those four, the road was pretty clear other than some broken down, discarded cars. This accidentally became a lesson on tight turns and swerving too.

Some of your turns were abrupt as you tried to go around the cars, it made you nervous. You knew it was okay not to be perfect, but it was still a little stressful to make mistakes when a master was watching behind you.

“Relax,” he’d tell you, sometimes putting his hands over yours on the handles and helping you out. “You got it.”

You went on and as the walkers approached closer, an idea arose. It was probably irresponsible, but you joked anyway, “Daryl,” you whisper-shouted with fake suspense, getting his attention. “We’re on a mission. Got to take those guys out before they get to Rick!”

He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. He leaned in closer as you leaned forward, gaining speed. One arm wrapped around your hips in totality, hand placed firmly there as the other reached for his gun, extending his arm out as you two got closer to the walkers. You two turned to face them as Daryl pulled the trigger: one shot each, straight in the head, “Got ‘em.”

You gasp, your laughter sounding so wild and fun and unrestrained in a way it hasn’t been heard by either of you before. “Is it bad if I say I hope we find another one?!”

“No, that was fun,” he agrees understatedly, trying not to fully give in. You couldn’t even see his face, yet he was trying to hide a smile.

And you were too. It was all too much honestly. You were balancing riding and having Daryl right behind you, holding onto you, trusting you to do something he’s never let anyone else do before; and you just proved you both could probably kill it in a high stakes situation. Well, maybe not, this was very, very low stakes, but still, it made you believe. You decided to ride the high, quite literally as you kept going, shouting back: “Imagine us in battle?”

Oh, wait— your grin fades slightly, you immediately regretted it after you said it. The point of this life was to try to find a way to live, not always fighting to survive. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

The silence makes you feel like an idiot until Daryl speaks up, both hands now on your hips, thumbs pressing into your back, “If we were in battle,” he almost whispers into your ear, “we’d be their worst fuckin’ nightmare.”

You feel your smile practically reaching your ears. “We’re a team,” you say, the humor coming back to your face now, the shine in your teeth reflecting the sun as it always does. “A dream team.”

A dream… Maybe. You definitely were at least, but that is a thought he doesn’t let come to the forefront. He let it go. But it was true… something about you felt unreal to him. The way you wanted to be around him this much, so interested in the things he does; he still didn’t get it, it almost felt unbelievable. He wondered when it was going to stop. When he would wake up. He didn’t want to wake up. The thought grows, he can’t avoid it now: you are a dream. One he didn’t even know he wanted.

Trinket No. 3: Lucky Charms ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Flying Away With You

You gasp excitedly, “The Eiffel Tower!” You hold the bottom up to the light as he still holds the top. “Nice,” you say with bright eyes, “I found the Statue of Liberty in the mom’s jewelry box and a few others that weren’t on her charm bracelet.” You showed him the mother’s sterling silver and he showed you the daughter’s that he found. “I guess they were traveling family… or wanted to be.” You feel a heaviness behind your eyes after you say it.

You loved collecting these charms, but sometimes there was a sadness to it. Like you were collecting other people's tokens, little pieces of their personalities and their stories, keeping it as your own. It almost felt invasive. But it was something that you and Daryl did together. You liked that. Another thing that made you feel close to him… Maybe this was like keeping their memory alive? You may not have known them or know what happened to them, but you were giving something that they loved new life. The charms did make you happy, after all. Especially because it was Daryl that got you into it. But it was also you who got Daryl into it too.

You both can recall the first day it all started: He found it incredulous that you cared more about a little piece of jewelry you saw in the dirt rather than the bigger thing that was right by it: the deer Daryl just shot, the one that you two had been tracking for what felt like hours.

His face twisted up to you as he collected his bolt from the body, “We just caught a deer, and you’re lookin’ at that?”

“We just caught a deer for the first time in months and this was right by them… it’s literally good luck!” You held the gold sun charm to the actual light source it was designed after, “Look at us… Lucky charm, dream team, remember?” Your smile was just so wide after you said it, he let his slight irritation go. It was easy actually, he was always taken aback by that smile. It still wasn’t that long ago when he thought you weren’t the type to do so, like him most of the time. He had only seen you sad, but now, I’m Alexandria, you just glowed. Eyes and an essence as bright as the sun, and that smile, all teeth and just as pearly as the moon… The charm was perfect for you and it needed its match. Maybe a star too. He would find it.

He still remembers where he found those. He came across a silver crescent moon necklace discarded on the floor of a girl’s bedroom. It was simplistic, like one or those expensive necklaces that shouldn’t even be that expensive because of how small it was, but it was a perfect charm size, and it shined, there were no scratches. In the other girl’s room in the house, probably the younger sister, there was a charm bracelet on the desk. It was kind of childish and clunky, like one you could get in those supermarket toy vending machines. He took the first charm he touched and removed the clasp from it for your moon. It was hard to do it with his fingers on something so small and dainty but after a few tries, he managed.

As for the star, he found it on a walker in the woods. It was a little girl, it almost made him feel bad to do it because he knew you’d feel bad about it, but her and what looked like her mom and dad went straight for the two rabbits he just caught, ripping their skin, eating them. He shot them all in the head. The thud of their bodies to the ground only seconds apart. Oh well, were his thoughts, their fault for messing with his catch. After that is when he noticed the gold charm bracelet on the kid’s wrist. It was different from the one he saw last time in that other girl’s room, it wasn’t a fake toy, it was more refined. Maybe they were a well-off family.

There was a star was at the center. It’s all he wanted, but he thought you might want to see the others she had too— they were all nature themed, he kind of liked it— so he tried to take the bracelet off but it wasn’t working. The thing fit her wrist perfectly and the bracelet clasp was stuck so, in typical Daryl fashion… he just chopped the girl's hand off.

Kind of gross, and he would definitely have to keep the red off of everything now, but the star charm was gold, it would match the sun charm and the moon would stand out at the center, he assumed. He thought it could look nice… and beggars can’t be choosers in the apocalypse anyway. After he took the bracelet he discarded of the hand, tossing it to the ground like it was nothing. (He’d leave that part out if you asked for the story later). Now that he had the bracelet, you would also have a gold owl, a bunny, a bird, and if it couldn’t get any better, there was a deer charm too. That’s what was most important about the account anyway.

That night, Daryl crawled into your bedroom from the window while you were asleep. He placed the star and moon on top of your journal that was on your desk, and after that, he left. That was it. He just wanted to surprise you. He’d give you the rest later. You only realized he did it and how he did it when you closed your window that was slightly left open the next day. There were scuff marks on the window sill. They were from his shoes.

After that it became a game; a little side quest. Like how people would count red versus blue cars or shout ‘punch buggy,’ when they are out with their family. An activity that took you out of your boredom, or really, for you in the apocalypse, it was an activity that made you feel oddly sane again, since you always dealt with the insane everyday anyway.

That was what today was about. At least on the down low; at least after you found anything of value for the community; at least to you two. You guys had found what seemed to be a wealthy neighborhood a while ago, when you passed that turnpike. The houses there were so big there, but all you had was his bike at the time, nowhere to put supplies and you were expected at the Hilltop, you couldn’t stay and look around.

It had been a little while after that and you had a plan now, a few Alexandrians backing you up with cars. You two finished your portion of houses to sweep and now you were waiting on the others, sitting in one of the house porches. That’s why you both were showing each other your finds from this place and the others.

You continued to hold the Eiffel Tower charm in your hand, “Maybe we should go to Paris…” Your voice was wistfully, then a quietness lingered in the air, it made you laugh awkwardly, releasing the tension. Your suggestion was one of those silly things you say where you mean it, but you pretend it’s just a joke, knowing it won’t have any outcome. “All of us, I mean,” you do mean it, but at the same time you we’re just talking about him right now. “That would be nice.”

“What would I do in Paris?” He asks it while he fixes his weapons, you’re sitting back, looking at the trees. He thought it was a ridiculous idea. He’s never been anywhere. He hadn’t even been to Virginia or D.C. before this and there’s no way he could go anywhere else now.

“Well I guess we’re never going to know unless we find out… you can eat!” You laugh, “You do like eating.”

He snorts, “Who knows if there’s food left there.”

Pessimist. “Again— we’re never going to know unless we find out.”

“Have fun tryin’ to become a pilot,” his drawl comes out strong on that last word. “Or a plane.”

“I guess that’s the next charm we need to find, an airplane or a captain’s hat. I am a pilot… or I can pretend to be.” There’s that smile again, “I can do anything.”

“Bet you could.” He meant it.

You nod, your next words making you laugh at yourself, “I’m Barbie.”

“Better,” he mutters. You can barely hear it. You don’t know if it was real so you say nothing until—

“We’re going to travel the world some day, Daryl.” You say it so surely, breaking the moment of silence, “We’ll find a way.” As long as we’re together. As long as you want me.

That’s all you wanted, truly. Even if this world really couldn’t take you to Paris, or New York, or anywhere out of Virginia. All you wanted was him. All you wished and hoped for is that he wanted you… but did he? You still weren’t sure.

Trinket No. 4: The Flower and the Photograph 𓇢𓆸

Back Pocket Memory

You two were almost near Alexandria, only a few miles left to drive. “Do you think we can just sit down over there before heading back?”

Daryl continued driving, “Dangerous to leave a good van with supplies just put.”

You pointed to the clearing you were referring to ahead. The trees were sparse in that area, it might have been a meadow, but you didn’t know the difference. There was a little pond near the center. “Can we just drive the car a little bit closer? Just for a few minutes?” You look up at him, your eyes doing that little sunshine thing as it always does, “I just want to sit in the grass,” you say, putting your hand out the window, feeling the wind through your fingers, “the sky feels so nice today.”

He huffs, but does as you ask. “Get out,” he says, gesturing to you to walk over to the area you pointed at. “Pick your spot.” You run over and he follows. You have this wonder about you, it was almost childlike, but not childish, more— sweet, innocent perhaps.

You jump down to the ground and cross your legs on the grass, looking out at the pond. Daryl parks the car a little behind you and comes out to sit on the hood. His legs spread, knees almost to his chest, his elbows lay on there, arms extended.

You look at him, “You’re really not going to sit down?”

“If someone comes up behind us and steals our shit then that’s gonna be your fault.”

Fair. You gesture at him to move over and you sit to his side on top of the car.

As you settle, you close your eyes and you raise your face to the sky. Feeling the warmth of the sun on your closed eyelids. There was a majestic kind of wind that blew in the air today. It made everything look effortless, especially Daryl.

His ever-so disheveled hair had pieces flying on both sides, brushing some parts out of his face, and pushing others in. As always, it was just enough that they didn’t completely cover his eyes. How does that always happen? Thinking about it makes you giggle lightly as you look at him.

“What?” He asks, becoming a little self conscious.

You shake your head, your eyes looking at him kindly, hoping to ease his nerves. “You just look nice.” Your voice was silvery and sweet as you said it.

You get up and skip toward the pond, picking a flower and coming back to him. You sit down and try to put the tiniest white flower behind his ear.

“What’re you doin’?” He tries to swat it away, playfully hitting your other hand that tries to hold him in place and he takes the flower from your other hand. He successfully places it behind your ear instead. “Better,” he says.

As he looks at you, he notices light pieces of your hair frizzing up at the top from the wind, other pieces at the bottom still moving around slightly. It didn’t look bad, to him, your hair looks more like that invisible halo he sees when you’re around, and with that flower in your hair, you look like a true angel or maybe even a fairy with all the greenery surrounding you. You’re just lovely.

You give him a closed smile, your head falling to your knees. “Pretty day,” you sigh contentedly.

Pretty girl.

Handsome man.

Then a thought comes. Your smile turning to a grin.

“What?” He asks sharply. He knows the look you get when you’re up to something at this point.

You grab your backpack from your side, slowly bringing out the polaroid camera you found earlier today.

“No,” he pushes the side of your face, already detesting the idea.

“Daryl,” you whine.

He says it straight this time, “No.”

“But…” your eyes trail his face for a moment before continuing, “you just look… I don’t know. It’s like I said, you just look so- nice.” There’s other words you could use, but you don’t, not yet. “I just think it would be nice to have a nice picture. All we take pictures of is the houses and work. It’s boring and a waste.” You pause, “Daryl… Please?”

He rolls his eyes, grumbling, “You first.”

He’s glad no one was around when these moments happened. Someone might think you had him completely whipped. His brother definitely would think so if he was still around. Daryl was almost embarrassed of himself because of it. But you don’t ask for much. Other than the bike thing, you really didn’t. You trusted him and you were patient. You went along with his plans and you could sit for long car rides and periods of time in quietness if that’s what he wanted. You never pushed him to tell you his story. He only knew a part of yours circumstantially and he didn’t push you for more details after he brought you home, so you did the same. He could feel you wanted to ask more questions, but he also saw you stop yourself, move on, you were creative with your conversation topics: you asked him about what the best thing he hunted was, or what his favorite things were about your friends. You were so gentle with him. Maybe you could get him to do almost anything you wanted without you even knowing, but it was worth it for someone like you.

You look down shyly, “I’m not good at pictures,” you admit.

“You’ll look fine.” He wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. You’re so alike, more than you know.

He tilted your jaw with his thumb. It was too quick for you to melt into it but the feeling lingered, it made you buzz with excitement and it was easy to smile after that. He looked through the viewfinder, seeing you do that pretty sunny smile, matching the yellow bud of the white flower. He clicked the button. Beautiful.

You snatch the camera instantly, “Your turn!” You were too eager but you didn’t care.

You take the flower from your hair and bring it toward him. He sucks his teeth, saying your name as he does so, “No!”

“Yes, Daryl!” You push it over his ear, but not before he pushes you knee, just to do it. He didn’t even know why he was fighting, he knew he was letting you have your way right now. “Look,” you sound like a school teacher, “very nice.”

You even out some of the frizzy parts at the top of his head, the light wind was still blowing through it, it was futile so you left it, he looked great anyway. A perfectly imperfect mess.

He crossed his arms over his knees and looked into your eyes. You held the camera to your face and snapped the shot. “Beautiful.”

You stare at him for a moment longer. If anyone else was here that could see those all to familiar hearts and stars around you and in your eyes, it was so hard to hide. “I’m keeping this,” you said, placing the polaroid delicately in your back pocket. He said nothing, he wasn’t going yo let you know he cared about a dumb picture. “Okay, thank you for indulging me,” you start, taking the flower from his ear, “let’s go home.”

Later that night, past one am, he came through your window again. But this time you saw. Your head was almost covered by the blankets, your eyes slightly open. He didn’t even look in your direction. Maybe he wanted to be quick.

You saw him go into your bookbag. It was hanging on your desk chair. He took the picture out. He wanted it. He wanted your picture. The one that matched yours of him. Maybe this was something. Maybe he did want you.

You closed your eyes quickly when he started to turn around, then watched as quietly as you could as he neared the window, starting to climb out but not before he placed the polaroid in his back pocket, just like you did. Now you both had a piece of each other, forever.

Trinket No. 5: The Music Player and the Wish on an Eyelash ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻ ♬♪

Never Fade Away

It’s official, in all the ways it possibly could be: Alexandria was truly your home. More time has passed: you live in a house, you have a job, you have family— it’s your friends. In some ways things are better than they have ever been… yet you still think about the night and the dark just as much as you used to. You tried to hide it, you wanted to be grateful and you were. But the things that used to happen to you, and the people that hurt you… they still lingered like ghosts when night came.

In the closed and guarded walls of your community, you hoped night could be a time and place that was peaceful. But thoughts of an attack, thoughts of losing your first real home, it left you apprehensive and paranoid of what could happen in your vulnerable state. And when you close your eyes, sometimes the past visits your dreams. It all felt inescapable.

It makes you so fearful that despite keeping your window’s curtain open, a battery-powered lantern resides practically glued to your nightstand— always on when the sun goes down. You knew it was a waste of a resource, but at least you kept it on low, at least when you woke up in the middle of the night, closer to morning really, you remembered to turn it off— the sun making its way back around soothed your nerves; it was always that initial getting-to-sleep part that made you need it anyway.

And of course, you’ve tried to calm yourself down at night using different methods to see what stuck: You do read— your neighbors were always kind enough to lend whatever books were in their houses— and you did daydream— letting your mind wander to happier, more wondrous places when you wanted to escape— and it did help sometimes, but on other nights, it wasn’t enough.

You miss watching tv in bed. There was something about the buzz of the box, and the voices of humor and romance and relatability that miraculously took you away, and helped you stop thinking, even allowed you to drift to sleep… it was a luxury you didn’t have anymore, and not only did you not have that luxury, you also had an overabundance of dead or deadly issues to worry about. It all haunted you.

You sat with your back against the headboard of the bed. You’ve yet to put on any night clothes. You had already read the next chapter of your book, and you would have read another, and possibly another after that, but tonight you knew it would have just kept you awake as something to do instead of worrying about sleep. You were tired though. That’s why you stopped, but you also weren’t ready for trying to catch sleep that wouldn’t come.

Part of you hoped Daryl would stop by, but he doesn’t always, and he probably won’t tonight. Some nights he’s out until the next day or the next week, who knows how far he went this time, you didn’t go with him and he left too quickly to ask. It had been a few days since you saw him last.

When he was here though, he did start to make it a habit of stopping by to see you, especially when it was time for Alexandrians to settle into their homes for the night. He stopped being so quiet through the window and only dropping things off. He would start coming through the door. It was just a light chat for a couple of minutes at first, then there were the times when he stayed an hour or two. He always sat on your floor, by the window, or by the door. You never understood why until you insisted he sit in your chair by the closet. It was only until a few more visits later you realized the chair's light color becoming just a bit visibly darker. It was soot and hard work and the air, he worked outside all day and usually visited before he called it a night. You made sure not to mention it, you just cleaned it yourself. No need for him to feel embarrassed.

Besides, you didn't mind, anytime he walked through your door or jumped in from your window, that was his chair, at least that’s what you called it in your head. You liked that. You liked that after he brought you home he didn’t move on and let you be. In his defense, you didn’t let him be either, but he could have always distanced himself if he wanted to, told you no, but he didn’t.

You two have gotten so close quite quickly. You both felt it and you didn’t know why, but at the same time, you did. It was something left unspoken, even in your mind, always on the side toward the back of your brain. That part knew you could fall in love with him, but why admit it to yourself if the other person might not feel the same? You were still feeling that way. Despite all the moments you’ve shared thus far. His silent nature was endearing at times, but it could also be a very confusing gripe of yours. There were moments when you knew exactly where his mind was, but there were other times when you simply did not. Especially when it came to you. Daryl always gave you just enough, and maybe tonight, it would be nothing at all.

At least that’s where your thoughts resided until you heard the creak of your door slowly pushing inward.

Daryl’s hand holds the doorknob, meeting your eyes as he steps in further. Your window casting just enough light on his face.

“Hi,” you meant to be clever, ask him if he knew how to knock, but only wistful, subdued surprise is all that came out in your one-word greeting.

“Hey,” he replied, it almost seemed like he was surprised too, you couldn’t tell it from his voice but from the way he cut the word short. “Didn’t know if you were awake.”

You laugh somberly, “You didn’t?”

“Didn’t see you in the window.”

His voice is low, your house is quiet, and people are asleep in the other rooms. You match his tone with your own quietness, “Right,” you say. The window did hit the bed end, not the top. But he knew you were a late sleeper. He even came and sat with you for longer the night before he left because you had told him about it— he knew, he had to, but you didn’t question it.

“Um,” he’s looking down, “Was just gonna leave somethin’.”

He starts to walk to your nightstand but you stop him, your hand reaching out, not touching him, but it’s just enough to pull him to your gaze. “You’re gonna leave without showing me?”

Daryl positions himself toward you and you sit up. Gingerly, he takes something small out of his front pocket, it was covered in one of his bandanas. He looks at it for a moment, almost unsure before placing it on the bed, right in front of your lap.

It was an MP3 player. One of those slim rectangular ones with a digital rectangular screen to match and a big circular button with the controls covering the bottom half. There were some small scratches in the screen corners and some dent marks in the back. The arrow buttons were starting to fade too, but he handed you some headphones out of his back pocket as you continued to examine it, it must have worked.

You look up at him, eyes wide, shining just a bit in the dark just like the little silver miracle that was in your hands. You remembered having one of these, the thought made your lips curl, a light open-mouthed smile forming as the nostalgia set in.

You move closer to the edge of the bed, the sky illuminating you more in your semi-darkened room. You place your hand on the other end of your bed, “Come,” you say as your tap the spot. He’s hesitant before he finally accepts the invitation, sitting down. You would have insisted anyway if he didn’t.

You flip the switch on the side then and the music starts instantly in your right ear where you set one of the earbuds in. You tried to put the left on him, but he shook his hand, “You listen.” You let him be for now, you were too excited to see what the previous owner was into.

The songs are scattered from different decades, but what you notice the most of as you skip through were various 90s and 2000s rock, pop-punk, pop, and the like. There was Nirvana, but also Fiona Apple to Blondie, and even Elvis. It was a little all over the place, really. This definitely had to be a teen’s in the early or late aughts. You thought maybe Carl would like this. There was even some stuff that you were sure had to have come out in 2010, right before the apocalypse began… Another kid who wouldn’t get to spend the rest of their teens, or young adulthood, or adult life like they were supposed to, like you were supposed to.

Having these thoughts while Aerosmith’s Fly Away From Here played was not helping, especially since it made you think of your lost family, and those from your found family that were gone now too, so you decided to skip, but the button seemed to fidget. You tried again, then again, even touching the screen. You accidentally made the shuffle icon come onto the bottom corner.

“Don’t like Aerosmith?” Daryl read it on the screen, but he also recalled the melody, even from just the soft buzz produced by the headphones, the volume was accidentally turned all the way up, you set it down.

You give him a light smile, “Aerosmith’s fine. Just have to be a little more careful with this, I guess.”

You continue to press forward to see what else is there until you shriek, color coming back to your face as you shake your head at the memory emerging as you listen. “Oh my god, my sibling used to love this song when we were younger.” It was Avril Lavigne’s Girlfriend that was playing. “We used to put on the radio or look up the music videos on the tv and dance. They loved doing that…” Your voice was soft, both sweet yet desolate, “I knew all the popular songs and all their favorite songs whether I liked it or not.” You giggle, “I can lie this one is fun.”

You knew Daryl would probably scoff, but you lightly place the left earbud near his ear for a few seconds so he can hear what you’re talking about.

“Definitely a chick’s.”

“‘Chick’?” It was funny, and you did laugh, but you still decide to protest, “It’s just one song and…I don’t know, I think it’s a pretty eclectic mix of artists…” You continue to press forward as you ask, “Were there kids? Or- did there used to be?”

“Based on the rooms.” He nods, “Boy and a girl.”

“Hm,” you say curiously, flipping through the songs: the next one that played was by Linkin Park, then Alanis Morisette… you wondered if the kids shared it or shared interests. Suddenly, the player starts Lit’s My Own Worst Enemy. Your eyes are starlit as you gasp, “Oh, this one is so you.”

This time you fully push the headphone into his left ear, turning the volume all the way up as the first verse plays, his face is fixed, “This ain’t me.” There is silence as the music continues and he scorns, “You think I used to just get drunk all the time?”

“Daryl,” your laugh is light, “no.” It was a ridiculous thought and he should know it, but nonetheless, you console him, “Of course not.” Your hand reaches forward onto the bed, nearing where his own resided, but not touching. It saddened you to see Daryl always react like this to small things. He was never judgmental, but he was always so quick to believe others would judge him. “Maybe not that part,” you smile, slightly mischievous, “but- okay, this-” you sing-speak along lightly, remembering to stay quiet, “it’s no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy, cause every now and then I kick the living shit out of me- that's you! That's literally you.”

He shakes his head, ‘Whatever,’ the gesture says with his grunt.

“No, you’re actually a little bit self-deprecating, I think. At least internally.” You continue, “Oh, and this part— I didn't mean to call you that- you see?” You say, humor still in your smile, “That part is you.”

Daryl gives you another small grunt indicating ‘no’ as he shakes his head again. “If I say something to someone, then I mean it. Wouldn’t say it if I don’t.”

“Well, you also mean a lot of what you don’t say,” your eyes trail to the side. You knew that didn’t make sense, but it did to you. There was a part of you that was still in denial of your feelings or if there was a possibility he had any for you either. You’d never see him talk or treat anyone in a more than friendly way– or whatever Daryl’s version of friendly was. You wanted to protect yourself by not admitting you adored him, even to yourself, but really, you knew. And there was the way he kept giving you these things, these little moments: the ribbon, the picture, the charms… It made that smaller part of you that believed something was there, glow and warm inside your heart.

You look at him, there was a sorrow placed on both of your faces, but he just looks at his hand that is placed on the bed through his hair, the one that's so close to yours. “You really don’t think there is anything you don’t regret saying?” Another song passes, you didn’t recall it, but then the playlist shifts to something slower, it’s the Beatles. “I just think you keep a lot inside… It’s okay though. But it is just something I notice.”

Normally, a comment like this or something similar to it would sound trite and judgmental, there are a lot of things people don’t talk about now, but you say it with understanding, a little sad because you can’t help it, but your voice is kind, like gentle fingers through his hair, evening it out; a voice that shows you care, you see him and respect him even if you do want more. “It’s okay,” you whisper as Paul McCartney’s voice sings softly, “I’m not half the man I used to be, there’s a shadow hanging over me.” It felt like he was speaking right to Daryl as he continued to look away from you.

It’s moments like this where he wants to say it all. The sad stories from his childhood that he has never been able to tell anyone before. Stories about his brother… the bad, yes, but even some of the good ones. He knows he could talk to Rick if he wanted, or Carol. His group was loyal to him as much as he was to them– he knew that, but they probably wouldn’t care to hear about Merle, it would probably make them angry to be reminded of all the bad things he’s done to them. He wouldn’t blame them. In many ways, and for more reasons then all of them, he will always be angry at his brother too. This is why he didn’t even like to let himself think about the past, but in other ways, it still sucked. It makes him feel alone, like talking about himself or his brother or the past was just a gateway to hurting himself and scaring others, scaring you.

You wipe him away from those thoughts even though you didn’t even hear them, your voice pulling him out of his trance, “Things are harder now, Daryl, but I think you’ve only gotten better.” There is still so much you don’t know, but nonetheless, it’s like you can read his mind.

“This is the only me you know.”

“And even then I don’t think you’re the man I met when you found me… We’re definitely not the same people.” Your hand is just inches from his fingertips now. “We all have things to improve on, even if we think we’ve already grown up. I think that’s a part of growing up actually… just realizing that you never do, or at least not entirely. You’re always going to continue to grow.” Your words linger in the air as the next song starts, it’s Paramore, it’s The Only Exception— something still laced with melancholia but it has a sweet gentleness to it. It's just like you. This is how you were trying to be with your words. “It’s better if you allow it though, or work toward it instead of against it, I think.” You laugh at yourself then, “But I'm far from perfect so I should really stop talking.” Blush creeps onto your cheeks, you’re hopeful the night’s light doesn’t show it too much.

He wishes he could tell you he thinks you’re perfect, or at least something close to it. At least for him. You truly were like an angel. Maybe Radiohead is on this too.

The chorus continues to play, leading to the song’s ending and his jaw tightens. It’s annoying that you were right, your words from before echo to him. They weren’t nonsensical, he did get it: he does mean the things he never says as much as the things he does, but no one will ever get to know. Not that everyone has to, but maybe for you, maybe just a little, maybe you can be the exception. And he can tell that you’re trying to me: who carries around a silly little ribbon anyway? Or who keeps their window open almost every night, even on cold nights? He felt like he was failing you. Maybe these gifts and these small moments weren't enough. Maybe they were just trinkets; meaningless, giving you false hope for a love he couldn’t provide.

You both hear the outro, “Oh, and I’m on my way to believing,” and his heart pangs at that. Maybe he doesn’t have to fail, maybe he can try, at least right now, “It’s just…” he speaks up, his voice clears, “It made me think of you when I saw it.” He was talking about the mp3, “That’s why I brought it back… You’re always humming under your breath. Now you can stop annoying me with the same old thing.”

Your eyes roll, but you aren’t mad, in fact, you can't help that it makes you smile. “Oh, okay, Daryl,” you say through quiet bits of laughter.

“Also thought it could help you sleep… I dunno.”

You nod intently at his words, “Thank you,” and that wistfulness in your voice returns. “That's really kind.”

He nods back. He’s so gruff and straight-faced all the time, but was it bad to say that there were moments when you can't help but see him as adorable? He was always trying not to meet your gaze through his hair, and it was always messy like a kid’s, just like when you took that photograph.

Muse’s Starlight starts playing as you brush some of the hair out of his face. It's an awkward transition, but it's what you get from accidentally pressing shuffle so many times. In the end, though, the words make it seem perfect for the moment. The singer spoke of desire and escape, about missing loved ones and wanting to keep someone special, someone that's like starlight, close by. You understood that. He did too.

You giggle lightly, “Daryl, you- you have something…” You point at your face in reflection of his.

“What?” He wipes his nose.

“No, it's- it’s here,” you say, taking your finger to lightly catch the eyelash that threatened to slip away from his face and onto the bed. “Make a wish,” you whisper. Your face is nothing short of innocence and wonder.

His snorts, “I’m not doin’ that.”

“Daryl,” you eyes widened with apparent prodding and pleading annoyance, but your words still have a sense of amusement to them, “I think we need all the luck we can get.” Your head tilts as you say through your smiling teeth, “I’ll do it with you…?”

“Fine.” He can’t help that your squeal makes his lips curl but he’s trying to hide it.

“You have to really do it.” You turn the music down, it's in the background now. Your usual sun-filled eyes are currently wide like the moon as you look into his, coming closer to his face.

He nods, “Okay.”

“Promise?” You sing.

“Promise.” He meant it, he even closed his eyes before you to prove it.

You closed your eyes too, “Okay, I’m trusting you.” Squeezing them tightly, you whisper, “Think about what you want, and then I'm going to count to three and we blow.”

Instantly, your heart foolishly thinks of Daryl. You know you could be thinking about the safety of your group, the stability of Alexandria, or hoping that the threat everyone feels coming subsides into nothingness, but all your thoughts are just of him. It makes you feel like a silly little girl, waiting for that big romantic confession of love that you dream about, the one that will probably never come.

I wish for you, you think. You can’t help it, you can’t say anything else, this is the only thing that’s true, I just wish to stay by your side, forever.

The song echoes your hopes too, I’ll never let you go if you promise not to fade away.

You agree, never fade away, please.

“Okay,” you say softly aloud, “1… 2… 3…” And then your wish flies into the air. You two stare at each other afterwards, eyes starry like the sky from your window.

You wished for each other.

Trinket No. 6: Scars, Marks, Tattoos, and Internal Wounds ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The Things I Only Trust You to Know

It’s another night. Another visit. It wasn’t intentional this time, but your curtains were drawn. They’re almost never drawn, at least not completely. The window was still open though, the night’s breeze ruffled them backwards. Daryl became concerned, so he climbed up, opening the window wider and pushing the curtains to the side to get through.

He saw you crying.

Hearing the thud of his boots stomp lightly to the ground triggered you to turn, body facing the closet as you were curled in your bed. You didn’t want him to see you. “I’m tired tonight, Daryl.” Your voice was low, you tried to keep in neutral. For the most part you were doing well, but it was still obvious you weren’t fine— he saw your face before you covered it.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, his legs hitting by your feet. He didn’t feel like asking if you were okay if you were going to lie and say no. “You can tell me to go if you want,” was all he said, rubbing your arm as he did and then let go. You starting sniffling involuntarily because of the touch. You realized you were holding in a breath, the shaky exhale came out louder than you wished it did. “I’m sorry,” your voice blubbering. You were embarrassed. You hadn’t done this in front of him since before he brought you home.

“Don’t gotta be.”

“I feel stupid,” you say under your breath. You’re still trying to hide your face.

“Stop.” He puts his hand over your body now, on the bed, and he faces you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head slowly, looking at him, “I don’t know how to say. I can’t-”

“Just say it,” he said calmly.

You felt heat rising from your throat, it was like the words were trying to come out, but it felt scary to do so, it made your teeth grind against each other. Your head shakes harder, “I don’t think I can.”

He brings a hand to your face and wipes some of your tears with his thumb, “What would you tell me?”

You would tell him to speak, that it’s okay, you both knew it. The thought makes you sit up in your bed, tears still running down your cheeks, but you were going to try.

“You’re just going to get annoyed,” you wipe some of your tears with your wrist, “think I’m dumb, like a little girl.”

“You’re not dumb,” he spoke over you before you finished.

You pause, you shake your head again. The words are on your tongue but you just feel so bad and so embarrassed to admit it. “Sometimes I just…” your voice hitches and your hands goes to your head, more tears fall, “it’s just one of those days, I guess.”

One of Daryl’s hands goes to your shoulder and your upper back, he pats you until it quickly becomes a soft, swaying motion.

Your voice doesn’t go above the lightest whisper as you try to start again, “Sometimes- I just look at myself and I-” a sob erupts from your throat and tears roll much quicker, “I know you’re going to think I’m stupid, but sometimes I just wonder if anyone could love me.” It doesn’t even feel good to finally admit it, but you continue, “I feel like there’s something wrong with me. Like maybe I’m not enough. Or I’ll never be.”

Daryl’s face heats up. How could you ever feel that way about yourself? How do you not see yourself as anything less than everything he’s seen in you since the day he met you? You’re not stupid. Never. He feels stupid for not seeing this in you. He feels stupid for it being so hard for him to tell you everything wonderful about yourself in the way you deserve.

He thinks for a moment, he wishes he was more poetic, but he wasn’t and there are still certain things he’s not ready to say. So he decides on something else as he calls your name, “You’re telling me you can’t see you’re a tough son of a bitch?” The phrase makes you laugh involuntarily through your tears, he always says it like it’s one word. “One that found a way to burn down a hospital and kill a bunch of dickheads in one go just to stay alive?” He huffs, “Prettiest arsonist I’ve seen.”

You gasped but it made you smile lightly, it was funny. “I’m not an arsonist! And it was only part of the building.”

“Coulda fool me.” He tilts his head, “But you’re also probably one of the best scavengers we got. And you’re a good friend.” His hand travels to your knee, “You’re really good at talkin’ to people… and to me.”

You try to let his words fill you up but there is still doubt. “I don’t feel like pretty and really good are the right words.”

“Then you’re wrong.”

You shake your head.

He doesn’t get it, “Well, what do you see that I’m not?”

Your heart beats ferociously, you don’t move, you’re hesitant, you don’t know if this is right, but there is a part of your that wants to. “Can I show you something?” You asked.

He nods.

It’s scary, but you decide to trust him, showing him the part of yourself you felt most ashamed of. The part of you that you thought was unloveable.

But he sees nothing shameful, nothing bad, he just holds onto it or another part of you, caressing you gently. “You’re perfect,” he says, shrugging as if his words aren’t a big deal, but he knows they are. This is the first time he doesn’t keep a thought like this in his head anymore. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He turns his back on you now, and he takes a breath, sighing deeply. You’re confused until he sighs and starts to speak; “When you were with those guys— and I know it ain’t the same, but— I know what it’s like. For people to use you.” He swallows hard, “I don’t like myself all the time neither.”

Your eyes widen. He was taking off his shirt. The first thing you see are tattoos, until your eyes travel to the other side, you see what he meant; the scars. “My dad. He was a drunk and a loser and an asshole.” Daryl's voice hitched, you couldn’t tell if he was crying or not, but you had never heard him like this before. “He did it to my brother too, Merle. But then he just left when he was old enough. Didn’t even give a shit that our dad was gonna do it to me,” there was anger in his voice. “He said he didn’t know,” and then he chokes on his words, “but how can I believe that? Thought it’d just skip a generation? He never changed. Neither of ‘em.” You wanted to hold him, but you didn’t know if it was too soon. He was still speaking, “Then when I got old enough, I left too. Some time later I started drifting ‘round with Merle, like that was gonna be any better… Two fucked up kids doing nothin’ with their fucked up lives.” His face turned to the side, you saw his profile, his eyes were red, “That’s what I did before Rick… You all were going to do good things with your life and I was gonna be nothing.”

“Daryl…” you were crestfallen, “I’m so sorry.” You held his arm, stroking it softly. “But you weren’t going to be nothing.”

“Yes, I was.”

“There is no thinking about what could have been. This is how life is. Maybe this was always going to happen,” your voice falters as you say it. “You’re not nothing. You’ve become everything to so many people.”

He turns his face back around and you look at his back again. It was difficult to look at, you won’t lie. Your heart sunk low, like it was being squeezed and brought down to the pit of your stomach to know that someone put him through this. Someone who was supposed to love him. Another tear escaped your eye at of the thought.

“Daryl,” you stutter meekly, “Is it okay if I hold you?”

His nod is so faint you barely see it, but he doesn’t say anything else so you believe it is a yes.

Your fingers ghost over his back until you let the tips of them finally lay on his skin.

His eyes wince and squeeze as he shutters despite your fingers trailing so tenderly. Your palm is now flat on his back as you move downwards and back up again. You kiss near his shoulder, right on the tip of his highest tattoo and then you wrap your arms around him, under his arms over his waist, and he holds your hands there.

You stay there for a long while, you don’t have a recollection of time. The moment feels like forever, although it is sad and you wished you weren’t discussing the things you were to get here, you don’t want it to end. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” you tell him.

It’s quiet until he says, “No,” disagreeingly, “You’re not brave just because you go through some shit.”

“But you still are,” you insist. “This happened to you and you chose to be the person you are now despite it. You became someone invincible.” You pressed him against you tighter, “I’m proud of you. Every day.”

Finally he turns around and takes you in his arms, your head now resting over his shoulder as your chests touch, closing the gap. You lay down on the bed and he stays on top of you. One hand plays with your hair and you continue to caress his back.

“I really like your tattoos,” you whisper, almost a giggle in your voice. “They look really good on you.”

He smiles a little. He never takes off his shirt so people barely see all the ones he has. He liked that you liked them. “Thank you,” he says.

“Do you want more? If you could?” You also want to ask why he got the ones he did, but the crying has made you sleepy and him being on top of you is making your mind hazy. “I wish I could,” is all you add.

He looks at you, “Maybe that’s the next thing we find.” He was talking about a tattoo gun, “That’s the kind of junk people don’t need now, we’ll look.”

He plays with your hair again, both your smiles are so innocent and lazy, you two would knock out soon, but it was nice to talk about something that used to be mundane for a moment.

“What if we do it and it turns out bad?”

“We’re not gonna find it tomorrow.”

“Right,” you say, moving on. “You know… I remember I used to be so scared of that stuff— needles and blood. I can imagine wincing just thinking about a needle touching me at the doctor’s… But now, I think that’s a pain I’d actually prefer… Rather than the other things we’ve gone through… If there ever was a choice like that.”

He agrees, “If there was a choice, I’d be covered by now.”

You two laugh at that, letting go of each other. Your bodies are on your sides, parallel to one another as you lay down. You’re on the side that faces the window and Daryl’s back is to it. He sees the moonlight illuminate your face because of it, the glow makes you look enchanting.

He wonders if you would get one— a tattoo, or another one, of this: of the moon; of the night where you showed each other parts of your bodies you wanted to hide, thinking they were flaws; of the night where you accepted each other fully despite it. Where he laughed and felt happy even after he shared something so dark. He almost never laughs or feels happiness in its totality, but with you, he does. It happened right now as he’s looking at you.

You see his face glistening in tandem with the white light that shines on you, it’s darker, but it’s still there. You were wondering the same exact thing.

Your eyes feel heavy now. They slowly flutter shut, but you try to keep them open. You don’t want him to leave. But he sees that your face dozing off, you’re tired, your eyes keep trying to close and close fully. He quietly gets up to go, but you stop him. Holding onto his forearm, sliding down to his hand. “Just stay,” you murmur, “please,” it’s light and dream-like. So he does. He doesn’t want to let go of your hand. He doesn’t want to let go of you.

You both stay at your sides, your intertwined hands at the center. He continues to look at you and you smile softly as your body finally allows your eyes to close shut. You drift swiftly to sleep. And he stays awake for a while longer, fixed on you and your slowing breath until sleep finds him too.

Daryl being right there, and you being right next to him, made everything infinitely better.

Despite it being vague on details, feel free to skip around areas of this one if you are not comfortable with reading about the reader being imprisoned at the Sanctuary.

Trinkets No. 7 & 8: The Second Ribbon and the First Kiss ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ જ⁀➴ -`♥︎´-

Confessions From a Broken Bowman and a Battered Beaut

It had taken a long while for you and Daryl to talk again after you escaped the Sanctuary.

The last time he saw you was through your tears as Negan’s men threw him in a van, your eyes bloodshot, wanting to scream and plead. He felt it was his fault that he didn’t fight harder; he felt that it was his fault that you were in there for so long; felt it was his fault that you were taken there in the first place. He couldn’t save Glenn— a burden he still carried so deeply, even after talking to Maggie— and that led to not being able to save you. He felt like he left you, not knowing you would have been in the same place he was if he didn’t escape before you got there. But what choice did he have? He didn’t know. And he doesn’t even know if it’s a good or bad thing to admit that in a heart beat, he would take another day of torture, of abuse and pain, if it meant he was with you, and you could make it out together. One more day for him would have been worth your days only adding up to one hand if it could. It would have been better than just waiting for you on the other side. Having to hide just so Negan wouldn’t find him and kill him and more of his friends because of it.

And even worse, what if he threatened Daryl with you instead? Especially since you were still there, with him. That’s part of the reason why Daryl wanted to blow up the Sanctuary. It would have just been one side. Just enough to cause the chaos you needed to run away from your captures and back home. You were fast enough, he knows you are, and you must have known all the exits by now. He tried to convince himself of it. Rick told him it was a bad idea, dangerous to do that to the workers, and most importantly to you— it too many what ifs if it didn’t work out— but what else was he supposed to do? He needed you out, and the Saviors to be gone. It felt like the only choice.

But then, Daryl saw your face. You got out, you didn’t need another fire. It must have been their first attack against the Sanctuary that helped.

Your breathing was so heavy when you finally stopped, you were running so fast, there were patches of dirt all over you, sweat dripping from your neck. It must have been fate that he, Tara, Micchone, and Rosita were right there on the other side, ironically trying to go back to the place you just escaped from.

All their guns were pointed in your direction. They heard the gunshots, they heard someone running. They instantly dropped everything when they saw that it was you.

It felt like the world turned in its full rotation in seconds, coming into a halt all in this moment. The woods, the running, the chance encounter— him; it’s like you were brought right back to the start.

He was speechless, stunned in a way he didn’t expect, mouth agape and yours the same. You didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know how to apologize in the way he felt he should, so you both just stood there. Tears started to well in your eyes. All he did in the end was look down.

This exchange of stares happened only in a mere matter of seconds until Rosita brought you in for a hug, cursing leaving even though she knew you didn’t have a choice, being so happy you were back, but for you it felt agonizingly long.

And for Daryl, it all felt endlessly hopeless. The reality that his plan probably could, or most definitely would have killed you sunk in. He was stupid for thinking that it could work. And seeing you in that wife's dress? A black bow tied to the back of your head? It was unbearable. He hates that he found it hard to even look at you.

The two other women welcomed you back, Michonne even looked teary eyed. The sight made some of your own tears fall because of it. She took you by the shoulder and Rosita took your waist, guiding you to the trunk. Tara went back near Daryl, she wanted to ask if their new plan at the Sanctuary was still a go but waited when she noticed Rosita sent a glare Daryl’s way. It honestly did more to Tara than Daryl. He didn’t even bother meeting her face, he was already punching himself for his silence, for his inaction. He just got in the driver’s seat and took off.

After that, you watched him, waiting to see when his eyes would finally meet yours, but he tried to avoid them as much as he could. The only time he spoke to you was to ask if you were okay when Alexandria fell and you were all in the sewers, and when he entrusted you to take care of Judith as he guided everyone to the Hilltop afterwards.

This treatment was excruciating, but you said nothing. You didn’t feel like yelling at him, you just wanted him. And there was no time between when you came back to right now when you could speak alone anyway if you did want to yell. If you asked why he probably would just shoved you off and you’d get more sad and upset than you already were, or maybe you’d pester, demanding some kind of answer and he'd be the one that might yell… no reason to fight in front of people, especially since there are so many other things to worry about.

But you remember when you finally got to the Hilltop, and how you saw the way he embraced Carol almost right after he saw her. You weren’t upset about that specifically. You admired Carol, even if you didn’t get to know her that well yet. You knew they loved each other, you thought they had a beautiful relationship… It wasn’t that. It was the fact that you fought all the way to get back to your family, to him, and it felt like it was all just so he could act like a stranger again. He didn’t even say hello when he saw you, or ask how you got out, or that he missed you. Maybe he didn’t. That was the real reason you said nothing. The thought broke your heart.

You could at least say that Negan talked to you, and didn’t keep all his feelings inside– whether they were real or not, you were only half sure somtimes– but your time at the Sanctuary, becoming a soon-to-be-wife, it was a hardship only you endured. No one would understand the humor of that sick joke, and it especially wasn’t the time nor would it ever be when everyone hated him and wanted to kill him so desperately.

The next day came by, you all prepared for the Saviors to attack at Hilltop. You were on a break, sitting in the cellar. It was dark, but it helped relieve you from the incessant heat that beamed outside.

Daryl was looking for you. This happened to be the third place he went around. He had just spoke to Rick, apologized for their fight. He felt awful that it took until after Carl passed for them to talk about it, and that his passing made Rick start to believe all the killing might be the only option like Daryl believed before. He still wasn’t sure what he felt now. All he knew is he couldn’t let you two go on like this any longer. It was time to talk to you.

As he opened the cellar door he kept it slightly open, letting the light emanate through.

He sits down next to you, bringing his knees up as he usually does. You don’t bother looking at him. Maybe he would just ask you to do him a favor like last time.

There is silence for a moment. He doesn’t know where to begin. All he decides to say is, “You got Judith here safe, I made sure Rick knew. Thank you.”

“You’re the one who led us here.” Your voice says quietly.

“You helped chop a lot of those walkers down in the swap.”

You sigh, not answering him right away. “This isn’t a competition.”

“I know,” he mutters.

Silence is all that hangs in the air again. With each second that passes it makes your throat swell, bubbling up to your tongue and brain as it usually does until you’re trying to hold back tears.

Daryl was feeling similarly. All his words were caught in his throat too, wanting to be said out loud but he can’t, it’s like someone is squeezing and choking him right there. And he can see your teary eyes, it could almost make his eyes match.

He says your name low and slow, “Do you hate me?”

You’re stunned at the thought. Your words are hushed but vehement, “How could you ever think I’d hate you?”

“I left you-”

“You didn’t know.”

“I could’ve fought harder when they put me in that van, you grabbed onto me and I still let them take me—”

You speak in between his words, “Why are you acting like you had a choice?!”

“—I could’ve went back right after they told me that’s where you were. Not leave you! I coulda done that.”

You shake your head, your voice a sharp whisper, “If you tried either of those things you would have been dead. Everything would be worse and this probably still would have happened.”

“I could’ve done something,” is all he repeats. Quietness fills the space again. You’re never going to agree on this. He’s stuck on what happened and you’re upset about what’s happening.

You breathe in shakily. He’s still finding it hard to look and it hurts, it makes you sad and angry.

Your voice becomes stifled, almost weepingly as you ask, “Daryl… Why can’t you even look at me? Why have you barely talked to me since I came back?”

His voice raises strainingly, “Cause I left you.”

Your voice cries as your head shakes again slowly, “You didn’t leave me, they took me. You left me now.” That makes him turn. You see his eyes, they’re puffed and the whites of his eyes are a faint red, and yours are still watery. “It’s not your fault.”

The backs of your fingertips brush against his cheek, feeling the bristles of his beard and you go down further, continuing to shake your head sadly, moving back to your face to wipe your own tears.

“Did they put you in that cell? Take your stuff?”

“Only the first time I came there. And then the two other times I tried to escape. After that I was sent to sleep with the other girls.” Your voice is quiet, “I don’t think it was the same for me like it was for you.”

“Did he,” he almost can't say it, “Did he hurt you?”

You knew what he meant. All you could do was shake your head slowly, it was a gesture of no.

He nods, his mouth fixed. Some relief is finally released from that, but this doesn’t change anything. They still took you away, they probably put you in a cell, they don’t deserve mercy. He wants to tell you that you all are still going to kill Negan and how he still plans on killing Dwight, but he holds his tongue. This wasn’t what being with you was about right now. His mind races with plans, just thinking of how to get close to them, how to commit the final act, until you speak, reading is mind again.

“I-” you stutter ashamedly, “I think- I know that my time in there has changed me and maybe I see things differently or know more than I used to but… it doesn’t change that I’m with you. I never let that go.” You whimper, “It just hurt when you didn’t say anything to me. Like you were disgusted by me.” You can’t help the string of sobs that come out.

“No,” Daryl holds your face close to his. The bottom of his palm reaching your neck, his fingertips extending over your cheeks, his thumb caressing over the area under and behind your ears. “I fucked up. I was going to try to blow up a part of the Sanctuary… even before I knew you got out… If you got hurt that would have been my fault. That would have been on me. I’d never see you again- Would’ve hated myself.” His voice hitches, it’s rasp so coarse and grating.

You hug him instantly. Your hands go under his arms and one of his goes in your hair, holding your head so tightly as it presses into his shoulder. He cries, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop” You breathe him in, “It’s okay.”

“It aint.”

“It doesn’t matter now.“ You wait a moment, telling him quietly into his neck, “I only want to be with you.”

“And what if it goes bad? What if I hurt you again?”

“We’re going to hurt each other, Daryl. What matters is we try and we stay. That’s it.”

He faces you now. His nose brushes against yours, your foreheads connect, it makes your eyes flutter shut. Your tears are drying the longer he holds you like that and everything feels so warm. Your heart, your brain, your cheeks and his fingertips against them. It makes you feel it again, that fearlessness— you kiss him. Gently touching his jaw, your chin moves upwards, your mouths opens, your lips twist so softly with his, you already can’t breathe, and then you let go.

As he looks at your face, he smiles, realizing he’s seeing the girl he used to know again. His sunshine girl with the stars in her eyes. They’re shining up, still half sad and glossy, but the bright lights are slowly coming back on. His dream is back. She’s real. You’re real. You’re trying, you’re staying, so will he.

He takes your neck and kisses you this time. His tongue slips in, you’re so surprised, you gasp into his mouth. It makes you both smile into the kiss. You come closer and he helps you into his lap, allowing you to lean in. His hands go to your waist and yours to his shoulders. Then one of his hands runs up to your hair and your opposite hand does the same to him. You want to touch each other everywhere now.

Then he feels the ribbon, the black one. It makes him stop.

You’re worried, “What happened?”

He holds the piece of hair that the ribbon is secured to, it’s only a little part, the rest of your hair is down, and he undoes the bow, discarding it to the ground. Your hair falls messily over your ears and down your neck. “You don’t need that anymore.”

Daryl pushes your hips and you sit on the floor again. He’s reaching in his pocket, and you can’t believe it, it’s another one. A dark ruby, maybe a silky burgundy one it was in color— it was another ribbon.

“How long have you had that?”

“Since I found the other one.” He shrugs, “I thought the first one was better.” This one had fraying on one end, unraveling just a bit.

You would have said that you could sew it later, but you didn’t, you said only what mattered: “It’s perfect.”

Daryl doesn’t argue. This is him trying, he takes the win.

He doesn’t know how to put it nicely in your hair, how you do it with the different styles, so he just wraps all of your hair in a ponytail, just like last time, tying it into a bow.

It feels like a gift, not just because he gave it to you and not because it looks like a decoration on top of one, but it is all of it— this moment, the conversation— it all feels like breathing new life into something you worried might be slowly withering and dying. You exhale, it felt so nice to feel him so close, to feel his fingers run through your hair, to feel his breath on your skin.

“Think maybe this suits you better now,” he says, and maybe it always has.

He leans back against the wall and you lay your head and back in the crux of his knees and chest. You look up into his eyes and he does the same right down at you. There was more work to be done, more fighting to endure, but for now, you lay there as if you were the only two in the world. In a moment of sweet understanding; in a moment of love. You could finally admit it to yourself now, you were absolutely and monumentally in love.

… I could go on forever ♡ perhaps this can be a mini-series where I post one when I think of another and you can feel free to request a trinket you think Daryl would give the reader and I’ll post it and respond or even write a blurb for it and add it to the list if it’s a good fit! Thank you for reading. ⋆｡°✩

[melancholymetropolis]

Exchange pt. II

plot: In which Gojo makes a late night phone call to his wife.

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Second Chance; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited (mostly). This is the fluffiest fluff I have written in the while. TEASING. Gojo is a comedian. SWEARING. use of AAVE (y/n is black as hell. wears a bonnet and everything). longing. Argument (no name calling). RAISED VOICES. sad boi gojo. guilty reader. get ready for the feels.

song association: Don't by Bryson Tiller

a/n: ya girl has some good news!

w.c: 3.0k

part(s): Part I

Upon shutting off the apartment’s showerhead, I could hear my phone buzzing in the distance. I wrapped my towel around my body and took swift strides back to the bedroom. Lifting my glasses off my nightstand, I placed them on my face before picking up the device. Instead of it being a friend from overseas, not understanding the time difference, it was an idiot who understood it very well. 

Gojo: pssss

Gojo: wifey. . .

Gojo: are you up??????

Y/N: It’s almost midnight. What could you possibly want?

Several moments after the message was sent, the phone started to ring. 

Gojo was calling.

I rolled my eyes at the sentiment. Ever since our lunch several days before, the taller gentleman was borderline clingy. He texted me at any free moment of the day, asking me what I was doing and when I was free for our next hangout session. I’d always blow him off. Telling him I had a prior engagement with someone else. I would say that the bride needed me to help her with Honeymoon stuff or the Maid of Honor misplaced her work and I needed to help her look for it. I would use any and every excuse in order to avoid speaking to him for longer than I needed to. It was clear that Gojo intended to make up for lost time while I was in Japan. He took his proposal to hang out very seriously and wanted me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Part of me almost felt bad from blowing him. Gojo was mostly harmless in his delivery and didn’t pose any real threat to my lifestyle. He seemed to be very forgiving with my excuses and never pressed me for blowing him off. The only thing he ever did was send almost a dozen crying emojis and claim I was abandoning our child. Apparently we were having a little girl, which he named her Naomi. 

Even though the white haired man was beyond ridiculous, he never failed to make me laugh.

I reached toward the nightstand for my wireless earbuds and connected them to the device. I placed one in my right ear and accepted the call. 

“Sweetheart!!!” Gojo whined on the other line. “What took you so long to answer the phone? I could’ve died on the other line!”

“But are you dead?” I replied, rising from my seat on the bed.

“That’s not the point!” He exclaimed. “And besides, what are you doing right now anyway?”

I walked over to the vanity mirror and lifted my leg on the low bench. I twisted the lid from the cocoa butter and scooped some in my hands. “Well, I just got out of the shower and have started my skincare routine. Why?” I warmed the cream between my palms and started to glide it down my leg.

“How do you feel about going on a food run?”

“Right now?” I scooped more product into my palm.

“Yup!”

I switched legs and massaged the butter into my skin. The guilt of blowing him off was eating away at my being. Gojo seemed to be making a genuine effort to get to know me and I was shutting him off. I was never usually the person to deny someone’s efforts and often cheered for a job done well. As much as I wanted to treat him like everyone else, I realized I couldn’t; because he wasn’t like anyone else. He was my husband, at least on paper. From what I could tell, he was pretty kind and patient with me, despite his idiotic tendencies. Those feelings from Vegas started to reappear once again. They always came back harder the longer I shoved them down. 

I started to rub the butter on my arms. “Let me guess, you’re having pregnancy cravings? Want me to buy you some pickles and ice cream?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of katsu sandos,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But ice cream sounds nice. Hold the pickles.”

I shook my head with a smile. “Okay, pregnant lady. If I do this, you better not expect anything from me to get dressed up for you. It’s too late for that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You are getting yoga pants and a goddamned sweatshirt. Better be lucky I am not wearing my bonnet outside.”

“Damn, you aren’t?” He pretended to sound shocked. “Now I gotta take mine off and fix my baby hairs.”

Explosive laughter erupted from my being and I felt myself hold onto the vanity to steady myself. “Gojo, what the hell do you know about baby hairs?”

“I know enough,” he conceded. “I am trying to do all my research now, so Naomi can have all the flyest hairstyles on the playground.”

“Gojo, get the hell off my phone with this mess,” I giggled. “You are too much.”

“I am just enough for you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I’ll text you the address to my apartment. Hurry your ass up before I change my mind.”

“Okay. Love you, boo!”

“Imma beat your ass.”

My eyes flickered to Gojo’s right hand. It rested on the arm rest between us and started to flex repeatedly. The silence between us was comfortable. It cuddled against our awkward bodies and almost became a second skin. This was the first time we were truly alone together in the past six months. There were no waiters asking for our order or any wandering eyes gazing upon us from the wedding party. It was simply just him and I; in a car, driving to god knows where, in the middle of the night. There was so much that could be said in that moment. So much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wasn’t ready and I had the feeling he felt the same way. It was easy to mask emotions in a crowd. It was easy to tell a joke to break tension and get a laugh out of company. Yet, it was extremely hard to be open with anyone you deemed dear. His eyes flickered over to me with such longing it made my heart ache. Those feelings from Vegas were flickering up once again and I tried to ignore them. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said with a smirk. “You look like a completely different person.”

I nervously readjusted the thick frames on my face. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a sexy way,” he answered, earning a scuff out of me. “I feel like this would be a bad time to mention I have a glasses kink.”

Laughter bubbled out of me and I found myself shaking my head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I am being so serious right now. Those glasses are doing things to me,” his eyes flickered over to me. “You are seducing with those thick frames and I am trying my best to behave.”

“Oh god, please stop,” I giggled. “How can I be seducing you in some leggings and a sweatshirt?”

“Baby, you could be wearing a plastic bag and I would rip that thing off with my teeth,” he replied with a wide smile. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart, and I will remind you of that every chance I get.”

My eyes flickered down to his lone right hand on the arm rest. The palm was soft pink and wide. There were callouses across pads of the fingers, almost like he played some sort of stringed instrument. Before I could stop myself, I felt my hand fall into his grasp. Electric sparks pulsed through my body as we touched. His grip on my hand tightened and his thumb rubbed against my knuckles. He pulled my hand gently to his lips and gave my fingers a kiss. A sweet smile fell on my lips at the embrace. My mind easing to a calm that wasn't there before. 

Unlike any other union I had prior, Gojo didn't give me butterflies or bring a blush to my cheeks. He gave me a sense of ease that no one else had presented. In all my other relationships before him, platonic or romantic, someone had always wanted something from me. I had to fit a mold to solidify our relationship. I had to be the perfect daughter for my parents. The unpaid therapist for my friends. The forgiving partner to my ex lover. The cut throat divorce lawyer. I always had to fulfill a label and my personhood was seen as a performance to them. I was never simply Y/N. I could never truly exist amongst them. 

That had been before I met Gojo.

He seemed to like me as I am. Actually, he encouraged me to authentically express myself. He didn't take it personally when I snapped at him. He was offended when I was coarse with him at the wedding, he simply adjusted his approach. Instead of being so direct, he became playful. Non-threatening. He was slowly making me feel comfortable around him. Easing the thick tension between us. The fear that I originally felt in the beginning had clouded my judgment. I couldn’t think clearly. 

Sure, being married to a stranger is scary. There is a lot that could go wrong. However, if all had gone right in Vegas, and if we didn't live in two completely different countries, we'd probably be dating already. Gojo would have most likely met my friends. Spent a night at my condo. Made me breakfast the night after our sleepover. He probably would have invited me to his place the next weekend. 

We'd already been 6 months in a sickly sweet relationship. 

Would I have loved him by now?

“What's that look?” His husky voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. “I don't like that look. What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I just…” I trailed off, turning away from his gaze. “Just thinking is all.”

He hummed, unamused, and squeezed my hand again. “You don’t have to hide your thoughts from me, Y/N. I am a big boy, I can handle the heat.” Gojo kissed my fingers again. “And besides, in order to get through it, we have to talk about it.”

A shaky sigh slipped from my lips and I wiggled my hand from his grasp. I wrapped both arms around myself and turned my body away from him. My eyes quirked at the twinkling street lights and billboards of Osaka. My skin was bathed in a crimson light that directly reflected the internal wound that bled into my foul mood. There was a war happening within my head and I could barely present him with the cause of it. At least, not the true cause. There were so many things that I wanted to say, secrets that I wanted to tell him. However, I knew it was too soon. He was still a stranger. A man that I met a little more than a few times in the last couple of months. A friend of a friend— an acquaintance. It would be too easy for him to leave me if he knew the truth. The whole truth. It was the thing that made me leave my hometown and start over. The thing that made me cut my parents off and change my name. The thing that I shoved so far down that I ripped me apart when it reopened. 

The car came to an eased halt and pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant. The open sign was flickering on and off, a marketing ploy. It wanted to draw people in to observe its beautiful open concept kitchen and glorious display of fresh ingredients. The tactic must’ve been a successful one, since the place was nearly packed at half past midnight. By the smile on their faces, I know the passengers were more than happy with their purchase. It made me want to try it.

A warm hand gripped my knee and gave it a firm squeeze. I felt my body tense from the pressure. I slowly turned to face the car’s driver. There was a noticeable frown situated on his face and a terrible look of worry situated between his brows. My silence had not made him happy. Not one bit.

His hand slipped into mine and he brought his knuckles to mouth for a kiss. 

“Whatever you need to say or ask, I am right here,” he said quietly. “I will remain here for as long as you need me to be. You’ll always have my support.”

His bright blue eyes were poured into me; like hot water in a teacup. He was moments away from drinking me in. 

A releasing a trembling sigh, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind since our lunch date.

“Why do you want me to remain your wife if our marriage was a mistake?”

At that moment, I watched his eyes dim. Their bright, exhilarating, electric blue faded to a gloomy navy that shook me to my core. Pain contorted his features into an expression I didn’t recognize. He had never expected those words to come out of mouth. Not after all the time we spent together. Not after the pact we made to at least “hang out”. Not after I made the first step to ignite an embrace just moments before. Reaching out for his hand had broken the stalemate between us. We were no longer adults navigating unknown territory, who were scared of the word “marriage”. It symbolized the potential for something else. It made room for something new to blossom between us. The beginnings of a new love story were on the horizon, at least before I called our union a “mistake”. 

The painful look was still on his face when he spoke moments later. 

“Our marriage is not a mistake,” he said just above a whisper. “Accidental, yes. It is no mistake.”

I waited a moment for him to explain.

“Mistake insinuates regret for said action; whereas an accident is an unlikely outcome. It has far less of a negative connotation than a goddamn “mistake”.”

He spat out the word like it was poison. His voice gradually rose with each word until it reached its normal volume. The pain on his face had shifted to a soft look of anger. He looked insulted that I would even use that word to describe our union. Utterly appalled that I would think he’d regret our marriage. 

“I just. . .” He cut himself off, ripping his gaze from my face. “Do you really think I would want to hang out with you if I thought this marriage was a mistake?”

“Well. . . no”

“Do you think I'm some conservative wannabe that frowns upon divorce?” His eyes fell back on me, anger causing his brows to lower. “That I am trying to trap you and keep you hidden away from prying eyes?”

“Of course not!” I conceded. 

“Then, what is it?” He snapped. “Because I’m really trying here. I get that this situation is not ideal for you, but I am trying my best to make it work, Y/N. It just seems like you don’t even care about me or what we had during that weekend in Vegas. You are so ready to give it up and leave everything behind. Leave me behind. Like everyone else.”

The last three words were quieter than a whisper. Somber and true. It made my heart ache and my mind buzz with worry. The little pieces that Gojo Saturo fed me about his life started to all make sense. He was the only child and the first in his whole generation to achieve a very specific goal. Power. What that power was— I had no idea. He didn’t go into detail, but I knew it was something he wore with pride. However, I knew that he wore it with regret as well. There was a weight on his shoulders that only he could carry. It seemed as though he was carrying the responsibilities of his whole family with him everywhere he went. He never had a break with his duties; they consumed his every waking moment. It made it hard for him to mingle, to date, to llsimply exist without a group of people breathing down his neck. The relationships he had made outside of his family never lasted, from what I could gather from his last sentiment. They stole too much of his attention for him to create anything meaningful with them. Just like a flower lacking water, the relationships would wither and eventually die; which left Saturo back at square one. Alone. Miserable. Unhappy.

A deep sigh erupted from his being as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. That was not okay and completely unlcalled for. Please forgive me, sweetheart.”

Without much of second thought, I found myself unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning toward him in my seat. My long arms encased around his slumped form and held him tightly. I felt his body immediately tense underneath my embrace. His limbs were stiff and unmoving, while his breath remained caught in his throat. He was not breathing. I squeezed him even tighter, forcing him to take a deep breath from the constraint. His body melted in my arms moments later. He pivoted his body towards the passenger seat and wiggled his arms from his side. Gojo raised the muscular limbs and engulfed me in what I could only describe as a bear hung. He held me as though I were meant to disappear at any given moment. As if someone would steal me away from this. From him. At that moment, I felt like I meant everything to him. As if I were his entire world. It made my soul weep. 

A series of buzzing erupted from the glove compartment. A message flashed on the car's dashboard:

Order: 2333

Ready for pick up! Come to the takeout window with this text message.

"Your phone is buzzing," I said, lowering my head back to his shoulder.

He hummed in response.

"Our order is ready."

Gojo's arms wrapped around me tighter. "Can we. . . Can we stay like this? Just a little bit longer?"

I felt my body melt into his touch. "Of course."

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a/n: ya bitch got into grad school! which is why i haven't been posting!!! trying to figure out the financial aid situation, but it looks like we are going back to school in the fall! also, please please please tell me if you are feeling this series. i have another one in mind, but i am on the fence. also, let me know if you would like to be on the official taglist for this series!

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TAGLIST

@amajikisupremacy @sweetdreams-inumimi @reagan707 @wannabeotaku @hazzelle-kento @rav3nmuse

[rhiaarrow]

My favorite headcanon about the eggs will always be that they took on the attributes of their parents

But thinking about what each egg took from each parent got me thinking, what did the eggs look like when they first arrived then?

Today's 7am ramble is about how I imagine the og 4 eggs (Chay, Dapper, Leo, Ramón) appearance changed over time and what attributes they took from their parents! :D

Were the first 8 practically identical at first?

In my opinion, yes!

The first few weeks of the egg event everyone kept mixing up the eggs names and forgetting which egg belonged to which parent which of course was just because they were new and no one had memorized it yet.

But why not add a canonical reason for people mix ups?

Everyone was just identifying them by their personal accessories because when the first 8 were delivered they were practically identical.

All small children with tan skin, similar face shapes and the same bright yellowish eyes. The only obvious appearance difference was their hair. All different lengths, styles and shades of brunette.

But they were ALL brunettes to begin with.

(all the dead eggs are commonly depicted as brunettes as well so this adds to it, they died before taking on a lot of their parents attributes)

Now, the first really obvious change that had the Islanders noticing the subtle changes in their own kids was when one day Dapper just suddenly no longer had iris's or pupils.

She just had white sclera blinking back at people and they were clearly his Dad's eyes. Then when they looked closed to see if anything else had changed they realized that both Dapper's skin and hair had darkened a fair few shades when put in comparison with his siblings obviously making to become pure black in both areas like Bad.

But hold on, now that they were comparing hair, they noticed that Chayanne's hair had lightened by quite a few shades. It was now a very light golden brunette, clearly turning blonde like his Dad, and under the skull mask you could no longer see yellow eyes looking back at you. So they removed the mask and sure enough his eyes were the exact opposite of Dapper, just pure Black sclera like his Papa Missa.

And wait, Leo's eyes were purple now! Unlike his siblings she still had her iris's and pupils but the iris's were now a rich purple like his Pa Vegettas and their hair had started to darken too. Closer in color to Dapper's hair, both of them clearly developing black hair like their Dads.

On first inspection Ramón didn't seem to have changed at all. His skin and hair were still the same shades as they had been when he arrived but later that day, when tucking Ramón in for the night, Fit realized that the sleepy eyes looking back at him were the exact same color as the ones he saw in the mirror. The same strange concoction of green and brown that he'd never bothered to find out the name for. And if Fit got choked up over that when he went to his own bedroom for the night, well no one needed to know.

Overtime there were far more obvious changes and also subtle changes that went completely unnoticed.

Chayanne's tail scales shed then instead of growing a new set he grew in a thick plumage, so rather than the lizard-like tail he used to have it he now had tail feathers that matched his father's hidden wings.

Dapper's tail shed the scales entirely until only the base remained, thinning into a long line as the end began to grow and change overtime until she had a forked tail just like her father.

Leo's tail did the opposite, growing in size and the scales became smoother as the end of it began to resemble that of a shark, clearly taking after her Pa Foolich.

Ramón's tail didn't change at all in style, he kept the lizard-like tail they'd all had to begin with, he just adapted to his needs. Fit knew better than anyone that in order to survive it's better to adapt to the hand (pun intended) you're dealt. So he helped Ramón strengthen his tail and work on his motor control until he could hold tools or weapons with the end of his tail, to use the tail as an extension of himself.

In stature, it was pretty obvious that Dapper was starting to take after her Dad when they had their first growth spurt. He shot up a head above his other siblings, still a small child but much taller than the rest. But less noticeably her limbs and body were a lot thinner than the rest, similar to the lean and lanky physique of their demon father.

With the fact that his skin was now pure void black it was easy to miss that her nails had changed into taloned claws and they no longer wore shoes since they'd developed hoof/paw things similar to Bads. Her horns grew to double the size they had been, they grew straight upwards and were sharp at the end just like his fathers.

Chayanne unfortunately did the opposite, having taken up his father's height he stayed practically the same height as his younger triplet siblings all hit their growth spurts. Much like his father, Chayanne was short and sturdy but with the way Dapper was gaining height it didn't matter. Chayanne's own horns stayed the same height they had been but over time they adapted to fit perfectly against the skull mask Chayanne wore.

Ramon and Leo stayed the same height for ages, when one grew so did the other. But then Leo discovered platformed sneakers and since Ramon lived exclusively in steel toed work boots it was easy for Leo to seem taller than her triplet brother, even though they were the exact same height.

In stature Leo stayed the same, no obvious changes at all to her physique but Leo's horns grew slightly and curled backwards over her cap. The most noticeable thing about them though was the fact that the tips of them grew in a vibrant purple, the same color as her eyes.

Ramón did quite obviously take after Fit in his physique but the only one who ever knew that was Fit himself. Ramon wore baggy comfortable clothes all day so no one else knew about the solid muscle mass Ramon had effortlessly gained from repeatedly working with heavy machinery and regularly going to the gym to work out with Fit.

Ramón's own horns however didn't grow at all, in fact they shrunk. With the fact that they were continuously pressed underneath his meathead and goggles they reduced themselves to slightly raised stumps that poked out from under his fringe whenever he took the meathead off. Although he only ever did that when going to sleep, only Fit knew how tiny his horns had become in contrast to how his triplets horns had grown.

I am totally drawing this when I wake up tomorrow, I have thought about this waaaaaaay too much not to at least try to put it on paper.

We will not mention the fact that it's already tomorrow, 8am is a respectable time to fall asleep...yep.

More Miscellaneous Stuff I think the OG eggs picked up;

Leo's skin took on a more golden hue but since she was already tan skinned it was barely noticeable unless she was standing directly in the sun.

Ramón picked up Fit's eyebrows. No particular reason why, he just did. I mean he already had a flawless moustache so why not flawless eyebrows to match?

Chayanne took on Missa's hair texture, making his hair much more volumous than if his hair had been fully taken from Phil.

When Pac officially called Ramón son he took on Pac's pure black pacman shaped eyes which gave Fit a hell of a shock.

Chayanne's ears bent down overtime, he didn't know that they now looked similar to how Piglin hybrid ears did, but Phil did.

Leo developed a strong jawline, not quite as chilzled as her father's but definitely more than her siblings.

[a-nemoiia]

「 The old times 」

・Thomas Shelby x Reader・

Note: Can I write? No. Have I ever written anything before? No. But here's to new things. (English isn't my first language so I apologise in advance for any mistake)

Plot: Thomas Shelby finds himself face to face with someone from the past he had left behind long ago

Word count : around 1.6k

Warnings: None

Thomas's childhood seemed a lifetime ago or so he felt until now, while attending the Epsom race a glimpse of a familiar face stopped Thomas in his tracks. A face he hadn't seen since before the war, the face of the girl who had lived nearby and managed to force her way into little Tommy's life from the first day she stepped a foot in the neighbourhood where he lived, and then proceeded to share with him the long days of his childhood.

That was until Thomas decided to push her away...

Over the years Thomas had grown closer to y/n, closer than he ever intended. He knew what that feeling was, that warmth blossoming in his chest everytime she smiled and it frightened him, just as much as the possible threats of the uncertain future did.

So Thomas decided to take matters into his own hand, making sure to leave what they had behind, while breaking Y/n's heart in the process, he managed to turn the bond they once shared into nothing but a memory.

And as if he was telling fortune, what he feared happened not too long after when young y/n had to move out of Birmingham with her father, vanished without a trace after longing for Tommy's goodbye that never came.

Now here she was again after all these years, as beautiful as the memories of her which his heart still held tight to, making it the only good thing in his bleak world. "Thank you" she thanked the man behind the bar once he poured her drink, y/n took a sip hoping it'd help with the discomfort she felt in this place. she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, clearly overwhelmed by the noises around her but just when she was about to leave she heard the man next to her speak.

Thomas knew he should keep his distance, leaving the past in the past, but something compelled him to approach her, so he found himself walking over to her. He leaned against the bar and looked at the familiar woman, no longer the little girl she once was, with muddy shoes and scrapped kness.

"... It's been a long time...What brings you back after all this time?" the question escaped him. Y/n turned around to face the man standing next to her, she frowned her eyebrows in confusion, before she responded "I'm sorry...Do you know me?" she asked.

When the realization hit Thomas his heart heart sank, she didn't remember him... He took a moment to compose himself, licked his lips and straightened his posture, no longer looking at her, he said "My bad, sweatheart... It seems I mistook you for someone else. My apologies" he lit a cigarette between sentences to calm his troubled thoughts, Thomas couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, but he managed to hide it well behind the usual cool facade "May I ask what brings you here today?"

"I'm here with my boyfriend, He's got a horse in the race" she answered as she looked about her surroundings in an attempt to avoid the man's heavy gaze on her. Thomas raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the mention of the said boyfriend. He leaned against the bar slightly, with a low voice he asked "A horse in the race, you say? Well...What's the name of the horse? Perhaps I've heard of it." the hint of jealousy he felt hiding well behind the curiosity in his tone.

"It's 'Wonder'. what about you... What brings you here? Got a horse in the race yourself?" y/n's gaze finally returned to his steel one, he nodded as he took a drag of his cigarette, "I do 'Grace's Secret', she's a beauty. But I'm afraid my interests goes beyond horses and betting tonight"

Thoughtfully, she repeated the name "Grace's secret...a woman then?Judging by the name." she asked watching a smirk display itself on the gentleman's face" you've got quite the intuition" He turned fully to address the lady next to him "Apologies, I didn't introduce myself properly. My name's Thomas Shelby. But around here, most people just call m-" Thomas took a moment to process y/n's reaction, he noticed a smile tug at her lips, a smile not with surprise, but familiarity the she masked well minutes ago.

Tracing the rim of the empty glass, she looked down ".... Been a long time, Tommy" she finally said, barely above a whisper, as if she's talking to herself more than him, "indeed, 15 years." Thomas added, as if he had counted every night since the day he made the decision for both of them, "15 years..." y/n found herself echoing, feeling the weight of these lost years. They both held gaze for a few seconds, no words came, as if silently grieving their stolen youth, mourning what should've been.

Suddenly, Thomas's gaze flickered behind y/n, making her turn her head to see what caught his attention, there near the stairs stood a blond woman, with her attention fixed on him just like his on her. "excuse me, I have to go" Thomas felt a pang of regret as he watches y/n expression change. He stubbed his cigarette as he hurried towards the he blonde head woman.

Y/n stood there and watched them disappear into the crowd, feeling a twinge of disappointment, she scoffed to herself, thinking about how dared to break her heart years ago just to simply allow someone else to fill her place "Bastard..." she whispered under her breath, surprised at how easy it is to reopen old wounds.

With the start of the race, the crowd around her thinned, y/n inhaled a deep breath and took a seat at on of the tables, not sure of what she's waiting for, or whom she's waiting for, lost in her thoughts she failed to notice the blond head taking a seat opposite from her until she spoke "Betting or participating?" the blond lady asked, her gaze fixed a head "neither" y/n answered briefly.

Silence stretched before she spoke again. "My name's Grace, by the way. I couldn't help but notice you earlier with Thomas" she turned her head, and her blue eyes landed on y/n. "so you're Grace huh?" y/n ask her, already aware of the answer "heard of me? Weird how Tommy never mentioned you" Grace said, with a hint of bitterness but y/n held firm "Only today." y/n answered frankly.

Grace pursed her lips and said "Thomas and I share history" She held her chin up as she stated, which made Y/n smirked slightly "History? must have been brief, I don't recall seeing you in Small Heath when I was around." Grace's jaw tensed slightly, her composure wavering "And neither were you when I knew him." she bit back, before she threw her last card "I'm carrying his child... He knows"

Her words felt like a splash of cold water, y/n felt the sharp pang of pain make it's way between her ribbs, but she remained composed, as her eyes drifted to Grace's hand resting on the table, y/n titled her head to the side as she spoke "I don't recall seeing one on Tommy's hand" referring to the ways wedding band on Grace's finger.

Startled, Grace quickly withdrawed her hands from view. As if it'll make her unsee it "He told me to wait for hi-" she began, but y/n cut her off "Tommy does love to keep people waiting, doesn't he?" y/n's gaze wandered around at the sight of the crowd leaving, announcing the end of the event. "Not me. Not when there's love." Grace spoke again, getting y/n's attention once more.

Letting out a quite sigh, y/n drifted her gaze to the worker writing down the race results on the board "Did you know Tommy could always spot a losing horse? That Rom blood in him..." y/n remarked. Just then, results were displayed in full view, as Grace's Secret placed third. Y/n's eyes met Grace's one last time. "I think luck might have abandoned the Irish today." With that, y/n held her purse and took her leave.

With hurried steps, y/n headed towards the gates, making her way out, eager to leave this place, but a tug on her arm halted her steps. "Y/n, wait!..." Thomas called for her "... Let's go talk somewhere, eh? Just you and I" he said, his blue eyes searching hers for approval, but y/n's were on the blonde women still seated where she left her, waiting just like he told her to.

looking back into Thomas's eyes, y/n pointed out "Always fond of keeping others waiting Tommy", Tommy's gaze shifted between the two of them, before his gaze settled on y/n "The worst already happened that night 15 years ago y/n..." His said, his voice heavy with regret.

Y/n fought with herself, her heart unable to deny the longing it felt to the man standing right before her eyes, feelings for him buried deep but never gone, she sighed "That was too long ago. things changed" but Thomas couldn't disagree less.

Shaking his head, Thomas took a step towards her, closing the distant, he softly spoke "No, no, not this, this never changed", Y/n looked up into his blue eyes, noticing how the ghost of a gentle smile tugged at his lips, before he whispered “How about we both keep them waiting this time? Come with me to Polly's house... just the both of us, like old times, eh?”

The shared memory from their old lifes and the simpler days, brought a smile to her lips. She found herself gently nodding "Just like old times, Tommy" she echod softly...

Taking his offered arm, they walked back to the house that once held them both, retracing their scattered memories across the familiar streets of small heath.

All kinds of criticism and advice are welcomed. I'm literally a lost puppy 🫶🏻