#this started out as an impulsive doodle which means it's really small and was awkward to colour

[curus-creations]

Don't let him see me.

[glowingbadger]

Request for SFW and nsfw modern au Sylvain and Hilda with a (gn or female) s/o? Ty!

((I also got another ask for Sylvain and Ashe, so I'll just add Ashe here and knock them all out at once lol))

Sylvain, Hilda, Ashe x GN Reader

modern AU headcanons

SFW (nsfw below the cut)

Sylvain:

- Sylvain loves all of the wonderful little trappings of being your boyfriend. He was the campus fuckboy for so long, and he knows that his reputation precedes him- so having earned enough of your trust that you'd give him the chance to prove himself means everything to him. As such, he's very dedicated to sweet little gestures each and every day to reaffirm that he's yours. I've mentioned before, but he's likely to send you a "good morning <3" text each morning and send you cute animal pics when you're sad.

- He adores sharing clothes with you- even if your body type doesn't allow you to wear a shirt of his, he'll lend you a scarf, sunglasses, any kind of accessory. Sylvain just loves the visual symbol of your connection, the idea that you could share absolutely everything. And again, it's very "couple-y," which he loves, since he hasn't really done the whole "serious relationship" thing very much before you.

- As I've mentioned in prior modern hcs for him though- it's definitely not uncommon to run into an ex of his while out and about. They'll either be satisfied with throwing dirty glances his way, or they may be amicable enough to say hello and chat a bit. Even then, you're likely to get a laugh and an eye roll and a side comment that, "Oh yeah, you better keep this guy on a short leash or you never know what he'll get up to." Sylvain definitely feels pretty sheepish after these encounters, apologizing that you have to deal with all of this, but acknowledging that it's his own fault. These kinds of incidents are likely why he doesn't like to talk about his past flings or relationships with you unless you really press him.

Hilda:

- Hilda is just so much fun to be with. She always knows how to help you relax- perhaps even a little too much at times. She knows the best spots to lay out a blanket for a nap or a snack on campus, and all kinds of great local places to shop. If you're the type to enjoy some, er, plant life, if you catch my meaning, she's always got a great movie or album to enjoy during a smoke sesh. That said, she's also super-low pressure about what you choose to partake in with her. She figures that relationships are supposed to be fun, so there's no point in sweating the small stuff.

- She loves to take you shopping and dress you up. Hilda has a savvy sense of style that blends classic pieces with modern trends (and she's scary good at knowing which trends will pass and which will stick around longer), so she'll take any chance she can get to pick out a cute ensemble for you.

- It can be hard to nail down her more serious feelings and perspectives on things, including your relationship. In a strange way, being with her is so relaxing and enjoyable that it sometimes feels like she's just goofing off and isn't genuinely committed to you. If you bring this up to her, she's surprisingly level headed about quietly sitting and listening. Then, she leans close to you and rubs her nose against yours and says, "Of course I love you, silly! I wouldn't bother being with you if I didn't."

Ashe:

- Your friends and family absolutely love Ashe when they get to meet him, and they probably started rooting for you two to get together long before he actually got up the courage to ask you out. You'll be study buddies and probably in a couple extra-curriculars for a looong while before the mutual attraction becomes too conspicuous and frankly too awkward to ignore. Once you start dating though, he's super sweet and attentive, always checking in with you after a big test or when you've been out late to make sure you're alright.

- When he messages you, he takes his time considering how he wants to word things, and he's more the type to send you one solid paragraph, rather than several shorter messages. He also likes to send you photos throughout his day when he passes a beautiful or interesting flower, or meets a dog out on a walk or some such thing. Sometimes, if you've been too busy to see each other or one of you is traveling, he'll shyly ask for you to send him a selfie, and when he sees you, he just sits in his bed staring at you with a huge smile on his face, his heart absolutely fluttering with how lucky he feels to have you in his life.

- He'll lend you books with the margins just full of notes, with passages that he thought were interesting highlighted, and little doodled hearts around sections that made him think of you. He could spend hours trading ideas and headcanons with you about your mutual favorites, and he even enjoys when your ideas are different or even contrary to his. He finds having someone to bounce ideas off of like this just helps him appreciate the depth and nuance of a story that much more.

NSFW 18+ v

Sylvain:

- He's always got a condom and/or lube on hand, more or less ready to go at any moment. He's very obvious about how completely into you he is, casually grabbing a hand full of your ass around your dorm/apartment, blatantly eyeing you up and down when you wear something new around him, and so on. He's also not shy with others about your shared intimacy- if you don't tell him not to, he'll brag openly to his friends about how insanely hot you are, how amazing the sex is, in whatever amount of detail they can tolerate.

- Sylvain loves when you come up with something you'd like to try in bed, whether it's a toy of some kind, a kink, an outfit. In fact, skimpy outfits drive him near feral with lust- especially if it was your idea. The mere thought that you went out of your way to find and purchase a sexy little maid costume or something similar to wear just for him is incredibly hot to him, and he can't wait to show his appreciation for the gesture.

Hilda:

- Hilda very much enjoys mid-day sex followed by a nap, or slow, relaxing and intimate sex right before bed for the night. Basically, she likes to be able to curl up with you and drift off once you've both been thoroughly satisfied. She's also very comfortable lounging around in just one of your shirts and panties, even if you have roommates around. It's mostly a matter of feeling cozy and relaxed with you, but she also certainly doesn't mind that it gives you the chance to ogle her body as well.

- She absolutely knows how to dress to compliment her beautiful figure- bras with just enough extra support to make her breasts look wonderfully full and plump, shoes with just enough of a heel to lengthen the line of her legs and her give her hips that pleasant sway as she walks. If Hilda is aiming to get your attention, she will get it. She always appreciates when you notice a new look or piece of clothing she's trying out, but she likes it even more when you can't keep your eyes or hands off of her as a result. Partially-clothed sex is always a popular choice with Hilda, as it shows that she's successfully provoked you into wanting to spoil and pleasure her immediately.

Ashe:

- He definitely wants your first time together to be special. He's just so overwhelmed by how strongly he feels about you, how his heart pounds at your touch, how kissing you feels like flying. It may seem like an old fashioned impulse, but he'll want to wait a little while into the relationship before "going all the way," and when he does initiate sex, it's likely to be at the end of a long and lovely date night. A play, a pleasant walk through a tucked away little garden nearby, and a high-quality but not obnoxiously extravagant dinner, then he takes you back to his room and kisses you slow and deep, then says, "I'd... I'd like to be with you tonight- for real- if, uh, that's okay with you..."

- Ashe is the kind of guy who really savors a range of different sensations. He won't hesitate to go down on you before seeking out his own gratification- hell, the feeling of your nails through his hair as you arch up from his bed is satisfying enough for him for the time being. He checks in with you frequently the first few times you're together, always assuring you that he's here for you, that he adores you, that he only wants to make you happy.

- He's pretty demure about discussing his sex life, blushing madly if his more outgoing friends prod him for details (has he finally "sealed the deal" with you?? How'd he land such a cutie??). He's not likely to sext or ever ask for lewd pictures, but if you send him one that's even slightly suggestive, he'll blush madly and reply with what's practically a rant about how gorgeous you are.

[wincore]

childhood dreams | mark lee

pairing: singer!mark x reader

words: 3.3k

summary: you’ve been thinking of childhood dreams lately, and it seems like mark’s been doing the same.

genre: childhood friends to strangers to lovers(?), fluff, angst

warnings: none

song rec(s): childhood dreams - seraphine (cover) [orig. ARY]

a/n: im obsessed with this cover and i need to write cheesy drabbles to prevent writing droughts so here u go friends 👁👁 

Mark sits at his desk, bouncing his leg in compulsive habit as he has for the past half an hour. Your presence doesn’t make much of a difference to him—and it would be far more disheartening if there wasn’t more than half a decade of unsaid things between the two of you. With notebook pages crumpled on the floor, a mild scent of musk in the room and Mark’s refusal to look you in the eye, you don’t think this reunion could get any worse.

Or it could, you tell yourself when Mark clenches another page in his hand, glancing at you before turning back to the neatly bundled pages on his desk. He looks uncomfortable, and discomfort wasn’t something you ever recalled in your friendship.

“Mark,” you call. “Why don’t you take a break?”

He looks up at you again, doe eyes and rosy cheeks, and you wonder where it went wrong—where you could have gone wrong. There’s no explanation and there hasn’t been one since tenth grade. He used to look you in the eye back then at least, and joke with you, study with you, hang out with you. Is it wrong to say you were best friends then? You can’t really tell right now, as you cross your legs, withering into your own being on his bed that looks like it hasn’t been made for three days. Some things don’t change, after all.

And some things do.

“Okay,” he says, pushing himself from the wooden desk, which now looks a little lonely. He turns his chair to you, eyes still trained on his lap and occasionally shifting to your form. Dark, messy mop of hair and a face much more grown than you remember—he’s lovely to look at.

You’ve never seen him agree to a break when you were kids. The memory that surfaces makes you hold back a smile. The school library closed at 6 p.m. and Mark had all the books you needed for finals week by four. The sky used to be a warmer colour and so did your room, though you can’t quite remember the colour of your walls. You remember the hot pink ink you used to doodle with though, and Mark’s tired complaints when you wouldn’t let him study. Half of your doodles were inevitably on his notebook pages.

“You know, I didn’t think we’d meet again this way,” you start, trying to smile.

“Yeah,” he says, opening his mouth to continue but closing it quickly. 

There’s a quiet pause, filled in by the rustling of leaves and the reminiscence of winter winds outside. Late January nights aren’t close enough to winter and yet still, far from spring. You think of third grade, all of a sudden, of the first snow you saw and Mark Lee’s terribly postured snowman. 

“I… didn’t know you were songwriting for idols,” he says, with hesitant punctuation.

You chuckle, looking down at your feet. 

“I- I don’t mean it like that- I mean- I—”

“Mark,” you interrupt the mess that’s leaving his mouth. “It’s okay. You didn’t say anything wrong.”

He scratches the back of his head, looking a little guilty. You can’t really pinpoint exactly what’s going on in the space inside his head and it bothers you more than it should. You have been apart for a long, long time. You’re not as entwined as you used to be, not two peas in a pod anymore and not a matching set.

It feels colder, even in Mark’s modest apartment room.

“We’re friends,” you say. “Since college. Sohee and I. She wanted to sing and I wanted to write.”

“Oh. That’s neat.”

You chuckle. “You get to do both. I’m kind of jealous, you know? You’re talented. You’ve always been good at everything.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not- No way.”

You roll your eyes. “Some people see modesty as incompetence, Mark.”

He blinks, something rekindling inside his eyes, you tell with the way he stares at you.

“Oh my god. Mrs Wilsbury used to tell us that.”

The two of you laugh. It’s not particularly the thought of old Mrs Wilsbury, with her sharp words and shriveled face, but the spark of recognition in Mark’s boyish laugh that makes you feel a trembling inside your chest. 

“She was horrible,” you say, pulling a face.

“She was nice to me though,” Mark defends.

“Everyone was nice to you.”

Mark furrows his eyebrows and you roll your eyes at him trying hard to remember your high school days. The expressions he used to make haven't changed much; he’s just grown up and into his larger, masculine frame. It’s endearing now, more than ever.

He gasps suddenly and scrambles back to his desk, scribbling in a bunch of lines onto the paper. You lean back on the bed, sighing. It’s supposed to be the two of you writing verses but the way Mark works differs so much from yours that you decided it’d be better for him to do his thing while you’ll be the supporting cast. You don’t really mind when you’ve missed his words so much. You don’t really mind if it leads to him.

“Sorry,” he says when he’s done, a little awkward in tone.

A part of you feels sad for him, however. You feel sad that he’s had to work alone all these years as a solo singer-songwriter. It can’t be easy. You know it’s not easy. But Mark—he has a way of making dreams come true. Every kid dreams and yet, your best friend from years ago is living his. Perhaps, it makes things better, easier to look at.

You glance at Mark again, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and lips pressed together. Something tells you he wants to scowl right now.

“Hey,” you call again, feeling comfortable on his bed now that it’s warm. “What was your debut song again? Dreamer?”

You know the answer. You just don’t want to give in to the feeling that’s calling for proximity again. Things change, and sometimes—most times—they’re out of your hands. 

You should be worried about nosy reporters right now. You in Mark Lee’s own room would give anyone attuned to celebrity news a sickening, sugary treat. A few headlines pop in and you shove them aside. You were surprised by the offer but apparently, his studio merges with his bedroom. (It did take an awkward explanation on his part as to why he invited you to his bedroom.)

Embarrassingly, you wish some of those headlines would come true. Your feelings haven’t changed since you were fifteen. 

His walls are blue like the sky and there’s more than enough lights but he only uses the one at his desk. It’s like a little sun, rays caressing his cheeks, nose and lips with a warm, orange touch. You would make fun of the gamer chair but he said it’s from Lee Donghyuck before you could even start breaking the ice you’re standing on. You wish the warmth would return between the two of you, the faint memory of holding hands in second grade floating in.

“It was Dreamer, yeah.” Mark’s voice breaks you out of your old teenage daydreams. You chuckle to force the heat off your cheeks.

A sudden impulse takes over your cold fingers and you take the acoustic guitar by his bed, playing the opening chords to his debut song. Mark’s eyes widen at your action and you give him your biggest smile—it’s like back then again. It used to be Mark on the bed though, with fingers strumming his worn out guitar and kind smile and honey eyes. You pause your playing. Mark’s still smiling at you in awe and you pat the spot beside you on the bed.

All of a sudden, you desperately wish for the past even if it isn’t meant to be recalled this way. 

You start playing again and Mark mumbles the beginning of the song, unsure, eliciting an annoyed sound from you. You stop playing and glower at him.

“Those aren’t the lyrics,” you say with mock distress. “You’re ruining the song.”

“It’s my song,” he responds with an incredulous laugh.

You begin again, and though Mark has to google his own lyrics, you spend an hour or so figuring out beats and tunes that vaguely resemble feelings you don’t feel anymore and thoughts you only remember empty decorated shells of. You’re not fifteen anymore, or fourteen or thirteen. Someday is now today. You’re not fifteen anymore but being fifteen is a part of you. The music floats seamlessly.

Your cheeks heat up when you think of the last time you met him, when you said you liked him and laughed it off in the awkward teenage fashion. You pray he doesn’t remember that embarrassing parting. It would be too silly an ending.

That’s why when you heard his name from Sohee’s manager, you couldn’t help yourself. After all, old friends should meet up once in their lives, right? You should close the door you left open if you can’t set foot into the house.

“Okay, but I genuinely didn’t know you write songs for Park Sohee,” Mark says, legs crossed on his bed as he leans in a little towards you. The dim lights of his room make his face look more rugged than usual, the tired lines spread across his face. You wonder if he’s kept up his habit of ditching breaks.

“I’m surprised you’re not in a boyband,” you reply, leaning against the wall. “And that your bed is this small.”

Mark stammers out a garbled explanation and you gasp.

“Wait- wait, oh my god. Don’t tell me… don’t tell me you’ve never had anyone over! For, you know...”

The comment runs a deep flush through his cheeks and you giggle at his expression.

“I- I- I just- I just didn’t have the time,” he says, biting down his lower lip possibly at his own awkwardness.

“Looks like you’re still a loser, Mark Lee,” you say, smiling smugly.

He narrows his eyes at you. “Looks like you’re still mean to me, (name).”

“Oh lord, when was I ever mean to you?”

“When were you not?”

You stick out his tongue at him and he laughs, relaxing against the sound of you and him—old friends. It could have been this way; it should have been this way.

“Why did you move away?” is what you want to ask. What was so urgent that you were left staring at the ghosts of his figure in his empty house, in his empty room and at the empty classroom desk? It’s not anger but a soft sense of regret, boosted by his quiet breathing and tired, thoughtful eyes. You could have stayed this way but instead, there’s a rift between the two of you. There’s years and years, and time isn’t a product to sell back and forth—you can’t buy those years back. Your chest hurts but you clutch the feeling tightly in your hands, afraid it might escape.

“This collab means a lot to Sohee,” you say, after a while. “You know, after the hiatus she’s been on.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I totally get it,” he says, sitting up straight and sobering from the bubble of you two. “We should get back to work.”

You hum. “You mean me staring at you tear all your hair out?”

Mark reddens in the face. “I’m not usually like this. Just saying. I need to be... inspired, I guess.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to revive your soundcloud account from when you were twelve,” you say, leaning back against the soft material of the bed.

“You’re making fun of me again,” he says, the smile lines on his face deepening.

You let out a smiling sigh. It’s just so easy. The thought still eats away at you, however, of what could’ve been. If you were younger, you wouldn’t care for this, you suppose. You’d just get along like nothing had passed at all.

“(name).” His voice sounds deeper and softer. “It’s nice having you back. To talk to, you know? It’s been a long time.”

Your face must have fallen because he straightens, eyes wide and wavering lips trying to form words. You sigh, looking away and see his form inch closer, some sort of fuzz leaving his mouth. 

“Mark. Mark.” You shake your head. “I think I’ve been a bad friend. I don’t know why I didn’t keep in touch—”

“Hey,” he interrupts, looking you in the eye. “It’s on me too.”

If you were younger, you would have confessed over and over again in ways private to everyone but you. 

You nod instead. If your childhood together was a prelude, there’s quite the long, awkward silence following it. You have to start the music soft and slow.

“It worked out though, didn’t it?” you ask, looking up to find his face nearer to yours than you would have expected.

When he tilts his head, you explain further, “We’re both doing fine, right? We- We did things, got our life and plans set and… now we’re here.”

Mark leans away from you. “I- I guess.”

There’s a pause, and you know there’s a lie fluttering between the two of you.

“I… I still feel like I’m running,” he says, a weary undertone carrying his voice forth. “I know I’ve done things… achieved things and I still- I still feel like I’m running a marathon. There’s still something out of reach.”

You scoot closer to him and offer a smile, your hand resting on his shoulder. 

“You can say you’re tired. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Thanks, (name). I appreciate it. I just don’t know where I’m going anymore.”

You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze before pulling him into a hug. You can’t hear his breathing over the sound of your pulse drumming in your ears but it’s warm, at the very least. His arms wrap around you after a few moments, heavy but comforting when his hand holds the back of your head, just like old times. The fabric of his mellow green hoodie is warm with his skin and you bury your face into it deeper.

“I’ve worked alone for a really long time,” he whispers. “It’s nice like this. I wish… I sometimes wish we could go back.”

You giggle, looking back up. “We could build a snowman for old times’ sake.”

Mark furrows his eyebrows. “There’s literally no snow. Besides, you just want to make fun of my snowman. Again.”

“You remember that?”

“Of course.”

His cheeks colour, one of his hands leaving your torso to scratch the back of his head. Suddenly aware of the lack of space, you pull back slightly to a more decent enough distance. Mark frowns but he rests his palm against the bedsheet, leaning his torso onto it.

“You could also let me draw in your songbook for the memories,” you suggest, smiling wide. “In hot pink.”

Mark scoffs. “Oh no. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m not as immature as you think, Mark.” You roll your eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to draw a bunch of hot pink dicks.”

Mark opens his mouth and closes it. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t suggesting that.”

One look from you, however, and he realizes his defeat. It’s almost the same look as the one in spring break after tenth grade, except much happier and more carefree. Your eyes shift elsewhere when you remember the argument you laughed off, details lost but the gist was clear. You acted as though it didn’t matter if he moved away—something about that happy-go-lucky persona you’d developed. Oh god, you were an idiot.

The silence isn’t welcome. There’s no rhythm, no melodies in moments like these—moments in between things that should be happening and won’t ever happen. Mark takes a sudden precise intake of breath, making you look at him. His eyes are rich and resolute, and somehow as pure as they were when he was younger.

“When you- when you said you liked me,” Mark begins, and you hold your breath. “When we were fifteen, you said you liked me. Before I moved. I- I don’t really know if you were joking but… Do you- do you think you still would? If we started over?”

You look at him, his eyes unable to meet yours and shoulders tense, and find yourself at a loss for words and for breath. 

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “Stupid question.”

“I- I do- I would.”

Mark looks up at you reluctantly, almond eyes shimmering with some sort of emotion—innocent and curious as though you’re fifteen again.

You cough awkwardly and he looks away in a similar panicked fashion. This isn’t as romantic as you thought it would be and you almost think about taking your words back.

No. Not again. 

“I would,” you continue, dragging the syllable. “If you maybe asked me out on a date, at least.”  

Mark blinks, slack jawed like he’s seen the birth of a phoenix, or something equally dreamlike.

“Yes! I mean, wait- I- uh…”

He clears his throat, cheeks flushing with scarlet heat. “Do you- do you wanna get coffee tomorrow? No, wait- it’s a Monday. Th-This Saturday? …I’m doing this all wrong, aren’t I?”

You can’t hold back your laughter anymore, clutching your stomach at the sheepish look on Mark’s face and his slouched shoulders, much like the ones you were used to seeing as a stressed, sleep-deprived teenager. 

“We can make time after this project.” You smile.

“We have to wait until after—no, I mean, that’s totally cool.”

The defeated grin makes you laugh some more. Your eyes drift to the deserted work desk and notebook paper, and you gasp. Dawn will arrive at this rate, crashing in waves.

“We really should get back to work,” you tell him, your fingers against his chest. “Twelve year old us would be very disappointed in us now.”

The two of you laugh in shared memory, of the time when romance was as appealing as ice-cream dropped on the sidewalk. With eyes full of stars and a head full of clouds, where do you go? Right back to each other, you think. 

“We’ve come a long way,” you marvel. “We used to think of a different future every five minutes. Me, more than you, perfect poster boy.”

“You wanted to be an astronaut,” he laughs.

“And you wanted to be a swimmer. Said you’d even swim in a lake in Russia. In winter.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he says, eyes faraway. “We had all those childhood dreams.”

“You’ve reached one of them,” you respond, laughing.

There’s a short pause. Back then, everything was visionary. What the two of you had in mind had evolved, molted, shed its skin but now you’re here, in each other’s arms again—in a way that you haven't been before.

“It’s two,” he whispers, and the next thing you know, his lips are on yours and his arms are around your waist, pulling you closer. 

He pulls back in wide-eyed, careful consideration. “I- I meant to ask first.”

You respond with a kiss, his mouth warm against yours. 

He pulls back again.

“That was cheesy, wasn’t it?”

“Just shut up and kiss me, oh my god.”

You can’t help it, smiling against his lips and making him laugh at the feeling. Your finger brushes over the mole on his neck, unchanging in the same way he still uses too many hand gestures to talk or the way he still likes to lean his head on your shoulder. 

There are unchanged parts of him so vivid in your memories that some time through the night, you wonder if you’re dreaming. Then a terribly executed joke later, you have to nudge him with your elbow or smack his arm—and it falls into place in your reality again. Maybe you could’ve saved time; but it’s so much sweeter this way.

[thiswasinevitableid]

24 for danbrey, nsfw please!

24: i’m absentmindedly making snowflakes in class and you’re the nerd who can’t quit glaring at me every time you hear my scissors. It is NSFW

If they were in one of the big lecture halls, Dani would not be having this problem. But the twenty-odd person room means the snipping of scissors is irritatingly audible. The noise is coming from behind and to the left of her. Turning her head, she spots the culprit; a girl wearing a denim vest under her coat, whose curly black hair is streaked with fiery red. 

She’s cute, but Dani is still going to steal her scissors the first chance she gets. 

There’s another tell-tale “snipsnip” and she glares over her shoulder, willing the scissors to melt. When that doesn’t happen, she looks up and finds the other girl smirking at her, then sending a wink her way. 

Shoot, she’s holding the scissors at a level where it 100% looked like Dani was staring at her chest.

She flips her attention back to the front of the room. A flurry of snips makes her look back again. 

The girl has made a heart instead of a snowflake. When Dani notices it, the other girl smiles. She looks even better when she smiles. 

Damn it. 

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

“Hi!”

The unexpected greeting makes Dani jump. It’s the Thursday lecture, and snowflake girl has sat down right next to her. 

“Uh. Hi?”

“You’re Dani, right?”

“Yeeah? How did you know?”

“Um, because Professor Chicane takes role, and you always sit in front of me so I can see you when you respond. I’m Aubrey.”

“Dani.”

“Um, so, I’m sorry if the snowflakes were, like, distracting you on Tuesday. I do better in class when I have something to do with my hands but I can, like, doodle instead if it bugs you.”

“I just get a little on-edge from noise sometimes, it’s no big--wait. If you thought you were bugging me why’d you make a heart?”

“Because I thought there was also a chance you were flirting and I wanted to hedge my bets just in case.”

Dani blushes; she had no idea anyone could see her annoyed face and still hope she was flirting with them.

“Oh, crap, class is gonna start, I’m gonna move to my normal spot. The one with the nice view.” Aubrey winks over her shoulder and Dani impulsively blows her a kiss. 

Aubrey sits down next to a short guy in “Monongahela National Forest” sweatshirt and whispers something in his ear. He high fives her. 

Dani spends much of the lecture looking over her shoulder, even though Aubrey keeps the snowflakes to a minimum. In fact, she only makes one, which she leaves on Dani’s desk as she’s packing up her laptop. Written in the center of it, in red ink, is a phone number.

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

Ideally, Aubrey would not have asked her out two weeks before the end of the semester, when Dani has to go back home for winter break. But they make the most of it. There are lots of “study” dates that involve more handsy make-outs than flash-cards, nights and afternoons snuggled up against each other in the little coffee shop by Aubrey’s apartment, and a memorable evening during which they discovered Aubrey’s immense, black rabbit, Dr. Harris Bonkers, PhD, ate through the cord on the rechargeable vibrator (luckily before they plugged it in rather than after).

When break came, Aubrey walked her to the train station and kissed her goodbye, using Dr. Harris Bonkers paw to wave farewell as the train pulled away and down the tracks. 

They text every day, Facetime or Skype at least once a day, usually when Dani has settled in for bed. She’s more than a little glad her brother is staying with his partner over the holidays; the walls of their rooms are thin and the two of theirs are next to each other. Jake stopped eavesdropping on her around the time he hit twelve years old, but the habit of not being able to quite relax while on the phone in her room remains. 

She’s extra glad for it tonight, because she wants to show off a Christmas gift she bought herself (or, more accurately, she bought for the express purpose of riling up her girlfriend).  The lace is a little fussier than she tends to buy, but it makes such cool leaf patterns, the pastel green and gold of the bra making her look stunning and the matching underwear hugging the curve of her ass in a way, if she does say so herself, is really flattering. But she’s more interested in what Aubrey thinks. 

Fireblossom: Holy shit

Dani: You like it?

Fireblossom: Uh, yeah? Why are you so far away instead of here when I can show you how hot you look?

She laughs at the string of emojis that comes through next; flames, peaches, kissy lips, and…

Fireblossom: Sorry, moth emoji is from texting Duck to tease him about his crush. Did you for real buy that just for me?

Dani: Yep. You deserve some eye candy, cutie.

Fireblossom: I’m gonna fucking combust over here. Dr. HB is gonna be an orphan because of your cute butt. 

Dani: I think we can do something about that.

Fireblossom: I’m stuck at family dinner time until nine and it’ll be hella sus if I sneak away to the bathroom for that long.

Shit, she should pull back on the teasing. Aubrey is typing something else, and she manages to get the strappy bra off in the time it takes for it to come through. 

Fireblossom: They won’t notice me texting, though.

Dani: You sure? We can totally pick this up later.

Fireblossom: But I wanna make you cum in your fancy underwear ;)

She’s not about to turn that down, texts Aubrey the green light as she rifles through her duffel bag. It’s only a small bullet vibe, but it’s never failed her. Something she’s learned in her twenty years of life is to always have a vibrator on hand when traveling away from your hot girlfriend. 

Dani: Ready. 

Fireblossom: K. Turn on the vibe, but keep it outside the underwear for now. 

The fabric is thin, and she gasps as she rubs the vibe in slow circles over her clit. She flips to voice to text, because now is not the time for an awkward autocorrecting or her one-handed typing. 

Dani: what next?

Fireblossom: Feel yourself up for me, honey. Can’t my hands on those cute tits so you’re gonna have to do it for me. 

She does as she’s told, massaging her chest and teasing her nipples the way Aubrey always does when they’re tangled up on the couch. 

Dani: Fuck that feels good. Still wish they were yours though.

Fireblossom: Soon, beautiful, I promise

She shifts her hold on the vibe, which gets it to just the right angle to curl her toes. 

Dani: Can I go under the fabric?

Fireblossom: Aww, you’re remembered to be good and ask first. Yes, you can.

“Thank god.” She slips the vibe under the silk, closes her eyes and imagines it’s Aubrey using it on her, grinning in that unfairly captivating way of hers as she tells Dani how good she’s being, how good she looks, how she’s so lucky they’re together. 

She picks up the pace, groans when she sees the next text.

Fireblossom: Cum for me, honey, use both hands

Dani shoves her free hand down and pushes two fingers inside, moaning as she envisions Aubrey kissing her as a reward for doing it. It doesn’t take long, she’s been low-key horny all day and turned on ever since she got that first message back from Aubrey. The orgasm is short and satisfying, bursting out from her and making her feel like every one of her limbs is tingling with exhausted delight. 

Dani: Came. Holy fuck. How are you this hot just through a screen?

Fireblossom: A magician never reveals her tricks ;)

Dani: A magician should make an exception for her girlfriend who’s still seeing stars. 

Fireblossom: Flatterer. 

Dani sighs, rolls onto her stomach so she can text more easily, not sure what’s she’s supposed to say now.

Fireblossom: That was really hot though. And now I miss you even more.

Dani: I miss you too, fireblossom. I can’t wait to come back to you. 

Fireblossom: Me neither. Can I Facetime you tonight? 

Dani: Totally.

Fireblossom: If I get lucky, will you help let off all the steam I just built up?

Dani: Of course, babe.

Fireblossom: GTG, nephew is bugging Dr HB. Talk to you soon, you make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world <3

Dani: Don’t be silly. That’s obviously me, because I’ve got you <3

[hanadolphieron]

lunar artist!yeojin; chapter three~

warnings; space battles, yeojin and reader have beef now

genre; sci-fi, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst

pairing; im yeojin x gender neutral!reader

word count; 2.3k

summary; your small crater town on the moon was rarely visited. one day, artist!yeojin travels all the way from mars to paint the serene, wistful scenery of your planet.

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

after the two of you suffered through that exhaustingly awkward moment, you both headed up to bed.

you gave yeojin your bed and snatched the sofa next to it. you could keep an eye on her that way.

not that she would attempt anything.

but you never know.

she might attack the fish who bit her and exact revenge.

and that would not end well.

yeojin sets on a solo adventure to find the bathroom, and you, completely oblivious to her quest, shuffle around the kitchen, cleaning up the small mess made by the pretzels.

she fails, somehow, and comes wandering back towards you. 

“where is the bathroom?” 

not saying a word, you lead her to it. 

“ah.”

“yeah. you can shower if you want to, all that dancing must have tired out your small legs.”

“hey! i’m not that short!” she says, reaching out to smack your arm. however, you’re too fast, and scramble like an egg into your room before she can catch you. 

you hear the bathroom door close. you’re safe. for now.

sitting on your bed, you write. jotting down notes about your emotions, what you’ve felt throughout the day, random doodles, it’s what you do when you’re bored.

you’ve never felt embarrassed that you do this, i mean technically your job is being a writer, considering your journalist occupation. although your company hasn’t communicated with you in, let’s see, 3 months? yeah. 

however, now that someone else is around you, you feel like you have to hide it a little. it reminds you of the way you’d feel when you were a kid, all nervous because their crush is near them, and they just have to impress them.

no idea why you feel like this around yeojin. it’s not like she’ll judge you. i mean, she will, but the connection between the two of you is already too strong to completely break, despite it only having been a week since you met.

thinking of yeojin seems to manifest her somehow, and she appears in your doorway.

“good evening,” you say.

she nods and mobilizes towards the bed. flinging herself upon it, you flinch back a little, still not used to fast-paced moves.

now that yeojin is settled, (although there is a lot of rustling) you lay back on the sofa, curled up in a fluffy blanket and a surplus of pillows. 

you used to sleep out under the stars, but you’ve grown so used to seeing them that they don’t bring the same kind of magic they used to. it’s pretty sad, honestly, that beauty seems to disappear after a while. 

yeojin breaks into your thoughts, “you said we could go ice-skating.”

she doesn’t phrase it as a question, but you know what she means.

“let’s go then,” you respond, effortlessly dragging yourself up from your den and treading barefooted through the house.

yeojin follows, her feet tapping quietly against the floor. 

going into the edge of the door, you look at the ice skates. you have two pairs. one for you, obviously, you do live here. the other one you bought in a romantic mood, hopelessly yearning for some long-lost love to come find you and ask you to dance on the frozen lake under the stars.

right now, the time has come for them to serve their purpose. not exactly how you were expecting it, but nevertheless, there is a, well, i guess you’d call yeojin a “love interest” wanting to ice-skate with you under the frosting of sparkles shimmering above.

yeojin reaches down, snatching the pair you just mentioned. wordlessly, you take your pair.

you go outside into the freezing air, which is more or less not even air. both of you are barefoot, having just gotten out of bed and neither of you are hooligans and sleep with socks on.

you don’t complain, neither does yeojin. she’s used to the hot atmosphere of mars, so it’s surprising she doesn’t react to the cold, but then again she’s also used to concealing emotions and being a warrior rivalling the spartans.

once you’re at the edge of the icy lake, you plop down on the ground and slide the skates on. yeojin does the same.

“i’ve never skated before,” she says.

“as expected. well, it’s okay, i’ll catch you if you fall,” you tell her, giving an easy smile.

you, on the other hand, are excellent at skating. it’s one of the only activities you’ve been able to enjoy here, and you’ve certainly spent lots of time on it. 

standing up, you start off without yeojin. i mean come on, you need to impress her at least once.

starting off with your left foot, you move up to a soft, swift pace. 

gliding across the ice, you swirl and pirouette in the air, landing on one of your feet, spinning.

you don’t look back at yeojin. instead, you quickly skate across the long side of the lake, going faster than yeojin ever thought was possible with ease. 

after performing a few more jumps, and even skating backwards for some of them, you slide back over to yeojin.

she’s standing there, wobbling a little, and practically falls over once she sees you heading towards her.

“wow, that was, woah, i,” she’s speechless.

you laugh a little, reveling in your moment of glory. taking her hand, (which is pretty brave for you) and help her onto the ice.

her small figure keeps the amount of imbalance to a minimum, and she seems to have pretty good control over her limbs, so the first few steps go well.

unfortunately, yeojin loses her footing after attempting to go faster, and flails backwards, almost bringing you with her.

however, your confidence on the ice and long arms stop her.

you catch her.

she’s now being held bridal style in your arms.

this is, well, one of the best things you’ve ever experienced. you’ve never held a girl like this, and wow does it feel nice.

she’s pretty light, and is floating in your hold.

her hair is soft, and it brushes up against your skin, making you shiver and giggle as it tickles you.

you’re not as awkward as when you’re on solid land, and manage to lift yeojin upright, still holding her hand.

she seems flustered, her cheeks dusted with a light layer of pink dust, matching the sigil on her forehead.

this seems to boost yeojin’s confidence, and her nerves disappear knowing she has a knight in shining armor ready to catch her if she falls.

going faster this time, yeojin squeaks along the ice, struggling in places, but she seems to be getting the hang of it.

“can i try one of those twirl things?” she asks you. her impulsiveness never fails to surprise you.

“no,” you chuckle, “but we can do this.”

you turn towards her, lifting one of her hands up. yeojin stares up at you, confused. 

“turn,” you whisper. 

she gets the memo, and awkwardly lifting one foot up, attempts a turn. 

you guide her through it. luckily, her hair doesn’t smack you in the face, you were a bit afraid of that.

the stars glitter above you, a constant reminder of your miniscule existence. it’s comforting somehow.

but right now you don’t feel small.

you feel bigger than you’ve ever felt before. like you’re more than just flesh with an intelligent, imaginative mind.

you’re part of something else, a feeling, an emotion, an act, you’re not sure. 

but you feel alive. and that’s all that matters.

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

“ehg,” a groan awakens you from a deep slumber.

yeojin is conscious, and ready to take on the world.

not really though, she seems a bit lost actually.

blinking and grumbling to herself, she sits up, blankets strangling her.

you watch her, one eye open.

“i have a plan,” she says suddenly, and with a massive burst of energy, leaps out of bed.

“ow,” she growls at herself, having damaged her ankle from the excitement of her actions. 

continuing on to the kitchen, completely unaware of the fact that you are awake, and does not care. 

she is hungry, and needs food.

you follow her, dragging yourself out of bed much slower than her gymnastics-worthy jump.

she’s already gotten into the pantry. you shove her to the side, looking in yourself. she flings open the other door and pushes you over.

grabbing a box of cereal, you sit down. yeojin snatches another one, than looks in the fridge, snatching a bowl and spoon on her way there. you don’t ask how she knows where all your cutlery is. probably guessed.

sitting down, gobbling up her food with the same repulsive but somehow endearing way of munching, she finishes off the bowl in no time. 

you expect her to make another one, but instead she licks her lips, looks at you and asks, “no milk?”

“huh?”

“you’re not having milk with your cereal.”

“milk is a drink and i can’t believe you eat it as a gravy.”

“well. i don’t agree.”

“sucks for you.”

“no it doesn’t. i have nice, soft cereal and you have crunchy cruanchy cereal.”

“you mean i have a beautiful, crisp breakfast and you have a mushy swamp.”

“no. that wasn’t what i meant.”

you open your mouth to retort, but she continues, “i have a plan.”

“oh wow. would you like to explain it?”

“no.”

“fine,” you say, but barely get a chance to spit the word out before being dragged to your feet.

“hey, what are you-”

yeojin pulls you towards the door. you follow her. what’s the worst that could happen?

‘wait here.”

“okay,” you comply, exhausted. how come sleep just makes you more tired? you were much more energetic last night, retreating to your bed with a wide smile on your face, eyes looking up at the ceiling, unable to close without seeing the adventures of the evening.

you wait. and wait. 

you hear an engine start. 

wait- you hear an engine start? you don’t have a vehicle? who? what? where? when? why? how? 

flying around the corner, yeojin, with a helmet, boots, and a whole driver’s outfit, sits atop some sort of mechanical thingo that you have never seen in your life.

you stand there, dumfounded.

“wha- where did you get that?”

“built it.”

“what do you mean you built it?! how? how talented are you?!”

“eh,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, “i’m made for this type of stuff.”

she are speechless and continue to stand there.

“well?” she asks, “are you coming?”

“we’re going somewhere?” you have no idea what is going on.

“yeah, that was my plan.”

“where are we going,” you are already moving toward her, sitting behind her, holding onto her back.

“somewhere,” she says. you can’t see her face now, but you’re sure she’s smirking.

before you’ve even a tiny bit situated, yeojin accelerates, throwing you to the side. you are left clinging onto her waist for dear life.

you can’t see much of the scenery flying past around you, but you think yeojin is going north, towards the lunar capital, bexyim.

still wondering how yeojin managed to find the parts to make an whatever this is, i mean it’s so fast? how did she do this? you don’t have any oil either? this madwoman is more powerful than you thought.

you gaze out to the side. something catches your eye. fire.

“wait, yeojin, stop!” you yell, your voice getting lost in the wind. she halts the vehicle, throwing you forward. you get out, looking up at the sky.

“what is that,” you say to yourself, not even realizing you’re speaking.

“come on,” yeojin says, sounding urgent, like she doens’t want you too see what’s happening, “we should go, i’m sure it’s nothing.”

but you stay there, looking up at the stars. this time, they’re not alone.

burning metal flies down to the surface of the moon a few miles away from you. you can smell the smoke from here.

it’s coming from up above. from a battle.

the sounds of laser and missiles hurts your ears. there are ships firing at each other, sending one another down to the ground, ruthlessly destroying each other.

and the colors. you know them well. silver and red. moon and mars. and the last silver one just fell.

you turn around, looking at yeojin. this is why she tried to get you to look away. away from the way her planet is murdering yours.

“this? this is what your planet is doing?” you glare at her.

“it’s not my fault, y/n, how could i stop this?” yeojin says defensively.

“why did you leave so early last week?” you question. it’s all piecing together now. the sigil on her forehead isn’t just a mark of the marsians. it’s a mark of the marsian warriors.

“i- y/n i don’t have a choice!” you don’t listen, already turning away. 

yeojin, the girl you were falling in love with, is fighting against your planet. the one you live on. the one where she is standing right now.

you start running. you don’t know where you going. but you have to get away from her.

you can’t believe it. there you were, falling in love with a person who is actively taking part in the long-standing oppression of your planet. 

you should have known better. marsians are always like that. never valuing peace. never caring about other’s lives, only worrying about themselves.

you go faster, heading towards bexyim. you can see the skyline over the burning horizon. it looks dark, darker than when you first saw it. 

it always happens like this. the “love of your life” betrays you and you run. escape from people and the disappointments they bring. 

this time, you’re escaping someone different. someone who you never thought would betray you, she had a warmer feel, one that didn’t seem manipulative, it felt honest.

but you still run.

and yeojin doesn’t bother to come after you.

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

masterlist ~ previous ~ next

[berthajorkins]

*        ⧽     [   𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐀  𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑,  𝐂𝐈𝐒  𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄,  𝐒𝐇𝐄/𝐇𝐄𝐑  ] ┋ is  that  [  𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐀  𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒  ]  ?  yeah,  that  must  be  (  her  )  sitting  at  the  (  hufflepuff  )  table.  i  read  an  ad  populum  article  on  them  once,  apparently  the  (  eighteen  )  year  old  (  fifth  )  year  (  half-blood  )  is  known  to  be  (  honest,  resilient  &  staunch  ),  yet  (  blunt,  meddlesome,  &  impulsive  ).  that  explains  why  (  she  )  reminds  me  of  (  doodles  filling  the  margins  of  a  borrowed  library  book,  spiked  hot  chocolate,  elbows  knocking  together  at  a  crowded  dining  table,  the  smell  of  burnt  cookies,  a  well-worn  torrid  romance  novel  tucked  underneath  the  mattress,  tracking  mud  through  the  house  in  clunky  combat  boots,  sharing  a  joint  behind  the  greenhouse  among  dandelions  and  thistle  growing  wild,  holding  onto  a  hug  just  a  moment  too  long.  )

born  in  boston,  massachusetts,  as  the  third  youngest  of  six  children.  and  yes,  this  means  she  has  a  boston  accent

bertha  has  a  younger  brother  (  13  ),  a  younger  sister  ( 17  ),  an  older  sister  (  24  ),  and  two  older  brothers  (  25  &  28  )

her  parents  were  both  americans  who  met  at  ilvermorny  and  settled  down  not  far  away.  got  married  young,  had  kids  young

in  the  jorkins  household,  there’s  a  lot  of  love  to  go  around,  and  even  more  arguing.  mr.  and  mrs.  jorkins  were  already  one  of  those  couples  that  seemed  to  always  be  bickering  over  something  inconsequential,  and  all  six  of  their  children  inherited  that  trait

so  bertie  is  LOUD  and  she  is  STUBBORN

in  a  family  of  eight  all  living  in  one  house,  you  sort  of  get  used  to  not  having  any  privacy.  bertie’s  a  very  open  person,  maybe  a  bit  too  much  ?  better  get  used  to  her  oversharing.  plus  she  is  nosey  as  all  hell  !

they  also  have  a  lot  of  extended  family  on  either  side,  muggle  and  magical,  so  thanksgiving  &  christmas  dinners  were  hectic  and  loud  and  everyone  got  drunk  and  at  least  one  person  always  ended  up  in  tears  or  with  a  black  eye.  but  at  least  the  food  was  good  !

when  bertie  was  16,  her  younger  sister  got  sick.  like,  really  sick.  the  family  moved  to  england  to  be  close  to  st.  mungo’s,  which  had  specialized  healers  who  could  treat  her.

this  caused  a  lot  of  stress  for  the  family,  understandably.  and  bertha,  who’d  always  been  the  closest  with  her  sister  because  of  their  close  ages,  took  it  upon  herself  to  be  the  light  in  the  darkness.  she  clung  to  joy  where  she  could  find  it  and  she  worked  tirelessly  to  make  her  family  laugh  with  her  goofy  antics

so  bertie  transferred  to  hogwarts  in  third  year.  she  was  loud  and  the  class  clown  and  she  made  friends  quickly  with  her  easy-going,  goofy  attitude.  though  i’m  sure  she  made  a  nuisance  of  herself  at  the  same  time

she  doesn’t  believe  in  this  blood  purity  thing  but  she  also  doesn’t  like  getting  too  serious  so  she  doesn’t  spend  much  time  thinking  about  it

often  is  impulsive  and  says  or  does  things  without  thinking  them  through  which  does  tend  to  get  her  into  trouble.  she’s  SO  loyal  though  and  SO  loving.  she’ll  remember  every  little  detail  about  you,  and  if  you’re  feeling  down  she’ll  do  her  damned  best  to  cheer  you  up

her  sister  is  doing  slightly  better  now.  she’s  not  on  death’s  door,  but  she’s  still  very  weak  and  too  ill  to  go  to  hogwarts.  bertie  writes  home  every  chance  she  gets

random  stuff

usually  goes  by  bertie,  bert,  berts,  etc

blind  as  a  bat,  has  THICK  glasses  but  every  so  often  she  gets  tired  of  wearing  glasses  and  leaves  them  in  her  room  and  then  immediately  remembers  why  she  doesn’t  do  that

she  doesn’t  do  great  in  school  cause  she  has  trouble  paying  attention  BUT  she  aced  divination  because  she  showed  up  high  every  time  and  just  really  vibed  with  the  prof  

constantly  doodling  and  always  does  these  dumb  little  caricatures.  takes  commissions  if  anyone’s  willing  to  pay

she’s  one  of  the  quidditch  commentators  and  i  would  love  if  someone  brought  her  commentating  partner

has  a  library  of  erotic  romance  novels  that  she  started  with  a  friend  (  wc  !!!  )  and  lends  them  out  to  other  students  for  a  small  membership  fee

i  need  to  tell  you  again  that  she  has  a  boston  accent

every  week  she  has  a  crush  on  someone  different

some  fun  loose  connection  ideas:

best  friend  who’s  quieter  who  she  can  drag  into  trouble,  best  friend  who’s  also  loud  and  they  egg  each  other  on,  frenemy,  friends  with  benefits,  awkward  exes,  one-sided  crush,  just  straight  up  enemies,  ex-friends,  someone  who  tutors  her,  etc  etc

[devinsfm]

joe keery. cis male. he/him.  ／  jack devin just pulled up blasting video killed the radio star by the buggles — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old radio show host, i’ve heard they’re really impulsive, but that they make up for it by being so captivating. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say obscure vintage horror comics, blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods, and vivid descriptions of spine - chilling tales  . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )

hey there, demons ! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i never do this, but i really felt like it was time for a change, so i drew lots of inspiration from some of my favorite ocs and i love what i’ve come up with ! character info is under the cut and please feel free to message me if you would like to plot !

i. stats

𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢: jackson willard devin

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman 

𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts

𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995

𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio

𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual

𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am

𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: captivating, witty, resolute. 

𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.

ii. history

jackson willard “jack” devin was born on halloween day ( yes, really ) in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ). his mother stayed home with him as he was growing up while his father is a boston cop turned sheriff of the county and he’s an only child.

outside of the popular tourist spots, his hometown has a very close - knit, stuck in the 80s vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone for their entire lives because no one ever leaves and no one new ever moves in. phone and internet signals are nearly impossible to come by, so the local arcade and the video store still have quite a booming business in the year 2020. jack grew up in a not - so - typical small town suburban gothic environment, his dad’s income being just enough for them to get by every month.

he was an energetic kid who cycled through all sorts of interests, trying out everything from little league ( disaster ) to music lessons ( not as much of a disaster, but he wound up getting bored of it ). nothing seemed to really stick until he got his first horror comic : a vintage issue of tales from the crypt with tattered, yellowing pages. he was five years old and paid five cents for it at an elderly neighbor’s yard sale and from that moment on he was hooked. it started with the comics, but he quickly expanded his horizons to movies, books, and television in the genre of horror.

he got intro drawing and that was the only thing besides his newfound interest in horror that he could sit still for. at first he would just try to re - draw the panels in his comic books, but soon he was drawing anything and everything that caught his interest and he was getting good. he was being homeschooled by his mother at the time, but once friends and family and, well, everyone took notice of his skill, they were encouraging his parents to nurture his talent.

his parents fought about it. his dad didn’t see the value in his skill and wanted him to instead focus on academics, aspiring towards his son one day becoming a lawyer or a businessman or even following in his footsteps. jack never wanted that for himself. he was homeschooled by his mom up until then and she believed in him. it was with her blessing that he would go to a real school for the first time at the age of fourteen, starting off his freshman year at a high school that was a thirty minute train ride away in boston and catered exclusively to youth who demonstrated an exceptional talent in some area of the fine arts.

jack did well in school, but his grades probably would have been a lot better still if he didn’t start purposely acting out as his relationship with his dad got worse and worse. he started skipping classes, getting caught trespassing in cemeteries at 2am, and smoking a lot of weed. 

when it came time for college, jack planned to attend art school. he swears he did. he looked a few schools on the west coast to get away from his dad for a few years yikes and planned to apply, but on the deadline date he got so high that he forgot to submit his portfolios. yes, really.

he loaded up his van ( a turquiose monstrosity he painted to look like the mystery machine ) and headed out to california anyway after telling his parents that he would be attending UCLA. of course, they quickly found it that it was a lie and his dad was furious. the two got into a huge fight over the phone and things were said. the result is that jack and his father haven’t spoken to each other ever since. 

he did lots of odd jobs while he was on the road and basically lived in his van, which didn’t change right away when he decided to settle in LA, but he eventually got a job fetching coffee for the late night employees at a local radio station.

it was the typical, cliché story : the regular late night host called out of work at the last minute, there was no one else around and they were going to be on air in ten seconds. jack was thrown in front of the microphone and told to think fast !

he did, and the listeners loved him for it. whether it was his ramblings about horror movies or his thick boston accent or his reckless use of swear words on live radio, he turned out to be a massive hit. the successful night earned him a gig as an occasional substitute deejay, and with each broadcast he grew more and more popular, and about two years ago he was finally given his own program.

the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchmen and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.

it’s something that he never expected or picturing himself doing, but now he can’t imagine doing anything else. he’s become really passionate about revitalizing the field and bringing radio into the 21st century. he signed a HUGE contract with the studio when his show first started and now he’s a quite well known radio personality in the area and across the country.

iii. extras

huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck. 

well known for his on air antics. he’ll light a joint in the middle of his radio show, he’ll prank call a friend and broadcast it to the entire city, he’ll curse in every single sentence and skate by on the after hours excuse when he’s reprimanded for it. he’s so outlandish and bizarre and like nothing that’s ever been heard on the radio before, and it just draws people in.

he often seems shy in person, but it’s more like he’s just a little socially awkward, something which also shines through in occasional non - malicious but blunt remarks and general lack of regard for what people think of him. he really just...doesn’t care.

genuinely seems to believe it’s either halloween day and / or the year 1986 at any given moment as that’s about as recent as his pop culture references get. he’s never heard of the k*rdashians, he doesn’t know what the mcu is, and the phrase yeet means absolutely nothing to him. mention any of it to him and he’ll just stare blankly bc he honestly doesn’t have a clue.

HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

still draws. especially if he has to still for a stretch of time, then he’ll take out his latest sketchbook ( he goes through a lot of them ) and start doodling. he’s still quite good, mostly in his favored comic - esque style.

BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL

a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled...he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.

most of the time he’s a really easygoing person, a good friend and very loyal to the people he cares about. well - meaning, not the best at advice but he’s more likely to try and cheer a person up anyway. 

he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm. 

iv. wanted connections

maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )

close friends

friends

guests on his radio show 

fans / haters of his radio show

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )

“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

[txladyj-blog]

This Time Around - Chapter 27

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

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

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

Chapters 29/?

Three weeks was a long time for Jess when her movement was severely restricted and everything that she did had to be managed with one arm while she became almost fanatical about doing physio exercises to coax her shoulder back to its original strength. Daryl had become her shadow, only leaving her for a couple of hours at a time and it was becoming very evident to her that his continual presence was beginning to grate on her nerves as well as convincing her that she was a huge burden on his life. She knew he was doing it because he cared, because he didn’t want to see her injure herself further and also because she’d heard him mutter to himself that it was all his fault in the first place. At any other time, Jess would have been ecstatic to be able to spend so much time with him but guilt was playing a huge part in Daryl’s actions and she couldn’t stand the thought of him blaming himself for what was essentially, an accident. She had tried and failed to get him to at least go back to Alexandria during the daytime, but he wouldn’t hear of it, telling her that he didn’t trust her not to push herself too far. She didn’t argue. He had a point.

During the evenings spent at the diner, they often went about their own business without the need to fill the silence with chatter. She would journal, spending her time doodling over writing the long paragraphs that harked back to her past. Daryl would carve arrows or make fishing weights while she witnessed how good he was with his hands from the other side of the room. Occasionally, they would indulge in fiercely competitive card games or would simply sit back and play ‘never have I ever’ with the short supply of orange juice that was rationed from Alexandria. It was a game that set Jess’s teeth on edge for fear of being asked something so personal that she may feel the need to lie. But it never happened and for that, she was grateful.

The nights were as peaceful as they could be, with only the twinges of discomfort in her arm that made her flinch awake. As long as Daryl was there, her nightmares stayed locked behind the barrier he’d created between her reality and that of her trauma. He slept beside her, keeping a small distance between them unless she worked her way into it and ended up flush against his body with her face buried in his arm. He didn’t stop her or dare try to move her, such a small and seemingly common situation for anyone else meaning so much more to him that it calmed his inner chaos as much as it did hers.

She wouldn’t have called it arguing as much, but being in such close proximity all the time meant that it was inevitable that they would discover things about one another that caused friction. But their frayed tempers never crossed the line into full-on conflict and Daryl had to admit that he sometimes liked digging at her and watching her irritation towards him. He would deliberately poke fun at her or use her need to be a stickler for organisation against her by putting her books back in the wrong order, reveling in watching her jut her lower lip out and giving him daggers for even touching them. She was easy to wind up because he knew, after so long, exactly what buttons to push. Although it was highly amusing, it wasn’t a patch on seeing her blush.

Jess wasn’t one to let deliberate teasing slide though and her retaliation to Daryl’s incessant mockery was to hit him with the one thing he couldn’t stand; someone telling him how to do something. Her need to continue training, albeit gently gave her the perfect opportunity to throw pointless comments at him.

“A bird could swoop down and rip that thing right off if you don’t put your tongue away when you aim.” She would quip from the side lines of her training ground. His jaw tightened and his face turned stony but still, she persisted.

“Keep your fingers still on that knife handle. Dang. It’s not a frickin’ accordion.”

Quite clearly, he was discovering that he wasn’t the only one to get enjoyment out of merciless tomfoolery and maybe, just maybe, he’d met his match.

Yes, three weeks was a long time for Jess. Especially when Daryl made no further attempts to kiss her and as a result, lured her into a head-space in which she’d convinced herself that the whole thing had been a lapse of judgement. That he really did just want to be her friend and nothing more. The worst part was the voice in the back of her mind that prodded at her self-esteem, goading her into believing that it was because he’d seen her with hardly any clothes on and so, the sight of her curvaceous shape and awkward conduct had turned him off completely. But she still caught him staring at her. An act that she was not completely innocent of herself and she wished and wished that it meant he was building up to making a move that, to her sadness, never happened.

At the end of the third week they trudged through the searing hot woods towards Alexandria. Everywhere she looked, Jess could almost see the heat rising in blurry waves all around them, as though they were walking through a mirage that the canopy of trees overhead did little to stifle. She talked mindlessly, paying little attention to the words that came from her mouth, her focus mainly being on her destination and how she would get there without boiling to death in the heat.

“You don’t have to stay with me anymore y’know. I’m fine. It’s been three weeks. If my arm was going to fall off, I’m pretty sure it would have happened by now.”

The crackling of twigs under boots and the swishing of fabric was all of a sudden a lot quieter than before and she smoothed a palm across her forehead and glanced to her side to find Daryl’s eyes firmly locked on hers.

“What is it?” She asked.

He said nothing and to her surprise, stopped walking, sighing deeply and regarding her as if she were some kind of troublesome issue in his life that he didn’t quite know how to handle. His eyes drifted away briefly, only to fall back to her and his hand clutched the strap of his crossbow at his shoulder. His fingers toyed with the frayed fabric and Jess started to feel uncomfortable when he stepped towards her, only to rethink it and step back again.

“Are you okay? What is it?” She pressed, knowing that if Daryl stopped in his tracks in the middle of the woods on a terribly hot day and said nothing, it meant that something was bothering him.

“Nothin’. It’s nothin’.” He grumbled before pushing past her and resuming his path along the dusty woodland floor. Jess flapped her hands by her sides in frustration and broke into a jog. Nearing him, she flung a hand out and slapped it across the left wing of his leather vest. He halted and before he could worm his way out, she skirted around him and defiantly blocked his path.

“Tell me.” She demanded.

She saw his throat ripple from a hard swallow and his eyes narrow in annoyance at being forced to speak when he’d opted not to.

“Told ya. S’nothin’.” He rasped. A response was not needed from Jess, she merely raised one eyebrow in disapproval and rested her hands on her hips. He evaluated the look in her eyes; stubbornness combined with concern.

“Fine” He conceded.

Just say it. Tell her you like staying with her and you don’t want to go back to Alexandria.

“I like…bein’ ‘round you.”

She flinched slightly at his comment, her eyes fluttering as she tried to decipher what he was getting at. Was it as simple as he said, or was there more to it?

“I like being around you too.” She replied.

The truth was, he’d been practically living with her for three weeks but he missed her desperately. He missed her kisses and the way she nuzzled at him and closed her eyes. He missed hearing her breathing change when his lips met hers and the way she held onto him like he might disappear. But hurting her was not an option and if he got too close, closer than he was at that point, the risk was too great. He would only have to step away to protect her from his perceived lack of anything to offer in a romantic capacity.

“I’ll tell Rick I’m comin’ back tonight.” He mumbled, lunging out to the side and storming past her.

“No, Daryl-Daryl, I didn’t mean that you had to go right away, or that you have to go at all. I just thought you might be real tired of me by now.”

He stopped and whirled around, striding up to her and stopping inches from her face. To the outside observer, it appeared like the start of a fight because of the shallow breaths from his nose and the angry vibe that surrounded him. Jess blinked in surprise but didn’t back off, holding her ground and bracing herself for an argument. His mind was jumbled, loud and busy and all he was able to do at that point was act on his impulses.

“I ain't never gonna get tired of you.” He growled at her.

Her mouth opened slowly and she blinked again as she tried to muster the courage to question if there was any truth to his statement if he never kissed her anymore but before she could even think straight, he’d spun back around and had vanished into the trees. All that remained was the faint odor of leather that lingered in her nose and made her wish that she could have the chance to smell the leathery, smoky fragrance of Daryl around her all the time, permanently and without having to question if she was good enough to ever feel the same love that she had for him.

~

When he arrived at Alexandria, Jess had followed on around five minutes behind him. Careful to allow him his space to simmer down from whatever had triggered his unpredictable mood. The streets were busy with people filtering out of their homes and setting off to their various jobs and Daryl sauntered along the sidewalk, aiming for the Grimes house when he was forced to stop by Glenn and Maggie, wrapped in an embrace in the middle of the sidewalk.

Glenn, who was playfully peppering Maggie’s cheek with kisses, held her close to his armor-clad body. Going on supply runs meant that he made sure to say a proper goodbye to Maggie. No one could ever be sure they would return from outside the walls but it was preferable not to mention such an unwanted outcome. Instead, enthusiastic farewells were the preferable option and Glenn and Maggie were unashamedly proficient at it.

“Wanna pour some Bisquick when I get back?” Glenn hushed at her.

Someone’s been talkin’ to Abe. Daryl thought.

Maggie shot him a confused look and placed a finger over his lips, silencing him from repeating any more of Abraham's crude sexual references. Daryl squirmed with anxiety and lowered his gaze as he approached the very public display of affection.

“You two ever put each other down?” He remarked, digging around in his vest pocket for his cigarettes.

Glenn turned to him with a wide grin on his face and Maggie stepped back in a haze, linking her fingers with his and holding onto his hand with both of hers.

“Happy wife, happy life.” She chuckled

“Maybe you should try it one day.” Glenn suggested with a slight squint against the sun.

Maggie giggled and gently slapped him on the forearm when she saw Daryl scoff and awkwardly shake his head. He didn’t know anything about romance, and realized that by making a careless, throwaway comment, he had somehow entered himself into the second conversation of the morning that he would rather not have.

“Don’t think so” Daryl mumbled, feeling his face turn warm as Jess wandered past on the other side of the street. He saw her do a small double take in the direction of the laughter from Maggie and Glenn and he deliberately averted his gaze, wary that she could be upset with him after his out of the blue admission in the woods. He hoped that they wouldn’t have to concern themselves with the discomfort of a discussion on the topic, but Daryl was learning that while he was just fine with burying his head in the sand, Jess sought answers and so far, he’d managed to avoid the elephant in the room. But now the elephant's days were numbered.

Glenn turned back to Maggie, tenderly kissing her goodbye and whispering that he loved her. When she left him to cross the street, he sighed happily as he and Daryl watched her join Jess in the pantry doorway. The click of a lighter and the scent of smoke snapped Glenn from his blissful vigil and he glanced to his side at Daryl, who’s vision was planted firmly on Jess as she explained in dramatic detail about how she’d injured her shoulder.

“Not seen you in a while, man.” Glenn pointed out. He’d spotted the top of a crossbow swaying against the light of the horizon from the tower and seen Rick exchange a few words with Daryl at the gate but they were the only two occasions in over two weeks that he could recall seeing Daryl inside the walls.

“Mm?” Daryl grunted, still keeping an eye on Jess. She was circling a hand over her weakened shoulder and motioning to the joint, a gesture which told Daryl that she was relaying the re-setting of the bones.

“Where have you been, Daryl?”

“Oh. Uh. Stayin’ with her.” Was his short response, coupled with a head nudged up in her direction as he exhaled smoke through his nose. “Dislocated her damn shoulder.”

“That’s rough. She alright?” He inquired.

“She’s too stubborn not to be.” He muttered to himself, shifting his weight and sensing that Glenn’s questioning was not quite finished.

“You guys seem… close.” He commented in a deliberately nonchalant tone. It was no secret to anyone that Jess and Daryl had grown close. Conversations were had behind closed doors and speculation was starting to increase among the group. Only a few had been brave enough to broach the subject with Daryl, who was notoriously a lone wolf with a short temper and all but Carol had been firmly ignored. Now, it was Glenn’s turn after he picked up on the strange atmosphere and ramblings of Jess in the room of Records during their residential supply run.

“Not you too. Don’t start with this shit, Glenn” Daryl sighed “You and Abe been sittin’ on the front porch gossipin’ like a couple old biddies drinkin’ tea after church?”

“What? No. Of course not.” Glenn quickly dismissed, covering up the fact that he had indeed spoken to Abraham about Daryl and Jess on more than one occasion before realizing that lying to Daryl was not a wise move. “I mean, we might have mentioned you guys once or twice.”

“Ain't nothin’ to talk about.” Daryl confirmed.

“C’mon, I noticed the weird atmosphere in that record room when we went on that run. You seriously telling me there’s nothing going on between you guys?”

Daryl took a long drag of his smoke and caught eye contact with Jess when Maggie left her to walk into the pantry. She gingerly held up a hand in acknowledgement to him. He mirrored her motion, seeing Glenn wave back eagerly from his peripheral vision. Guilt stung his heart for the untoward way he’d spoken to her in the woods. He was becoming more and more aware that his actions when he was around her were growing more erratic as his feelings for her spiraled into something strong and something that he was facing for the first time in his life.

“She’s fuckin’ awesome. We’re friends.” He finally answered. “Drop it.”

“Okay, man. That’s cool.” Glenn agreed, accepting Daryl’s veiled warning to leave the subject alone. “But y’know, If the walkers have taught me anything, it’s that life is short. There really shouldn’t be anything holding people back from relationships at this point. I mean, if someone had told me when I was still delivering pizzas and playing video games that I’d end up with someone as amazing as Maggie, I’d have laughed in their face. I guess this new life has a way of changing people and how they see you.”

Daryl flicked his cigarette end into the street and looked at Glenn with a baffled expression. Glenn wasn’t the only person to drop hints about his relationship with Jess. He’d faced it from Carol, Carl, Abraham and Rick and was beginning to question why everyone else seemed to be able to understand what he wanted more than he did. If he had his way, he and Jess would be together, outside the walls and away from the chatter and gossip. If he had his way, he would be the man she deserved and would be able to give her the kind of relationship she wanted. But he did not have his way, all he had was the memories of his past, the mistakes he’d made and the constant reminder that he wanted so much more for her. He couldn’t deny that Glenn had a point, people had changed and he’d witnessed it with his own eyes. But to him, he’d remained the same. Unworthy, clueless and not able to make her as happy as he wanted her to be. Such a topic was not favorable to Daryl and especially not out in the open. He huffed incredulously and refused to mimic Glenn’s small and genuine smile.

“What are you, Oprah now or somethin?” He questioned.

“You said you’re friends. You didn’t say you weren’t anything else.” Glenn shrugged as he took a quick glance at Jess.

“Get outta here n’ mind ya damn business” Daryl grumbled with burning cheeks and the urge to move and place himself somewhere he wouldn’t be forced to face the reality of his situation. He stepped off the sidewalk and into the road, picking back up on the path towards The Grimes house and leaving Glenn smirking behind him.

~

Inside the house, Carol was reclined on the couch thumbing through a book she’d picked up from the thrown-together library inside the church. It was a romance novel, typical of her taste and laden with enough cliches and dramatics to transport her into the pages and the realm of escapism that she needed from the harsh and ruthless world.

She sipped on a cold glass of water, grateful for the use of a working tap and never again planning on taking it for granted. On the coffee table, her knife rested, glinting in the sunlight from the window and rarely further than an arms length away from her grasp. She knew they couldn’t be too careful, especially after the town had been compromised in such a bad way. Always being prepared was key for Carol and she had no intentions to be caught off guard any more.

Hearing the front door open, she sighed and resigned herself to the idea that her reading time would be short lived unless she either locked the door or retreated to her bedroom. Footsteps clunked across the wooden flooring and stopped in the doorway. Carol sat up, craning her neck to see behind the couch and finding Daryl leaned against the door frame and fiddling with the leather holster of his knife which hung from his belt. His fingers plucked at the metal popper around the handle, snapping it closed and then open again, over and over. Carol raised her eyebrows at him as she climbed up from the couch and dropped her book on the arm.

“He lives!” she proclaimed. “I take it you’ve been staying with your girl.”

“She ain’t my girl.” He corrected quickly. In one way, she was his girl. His best friend. The only person he truly trusted with anything. But in another way, she was far from his girl and he wished, deep down in his heart that it wasn’t the case.

“Maybe not yet.” Carol muttered time herself as she picked up her glass of water and padded past him. She crossed the hall and entered the kitchen, her boots scuffing along the floor as she lazily dragged her feet.

“Give me a damn break, Carol.” Daryl complained while following after her. “ What the hell is wrong with everybody, anyways? I just had all this from Glenn. Can’t walk through the damn gate without somebody firing questions at me.”

She held her hands up in surrender and selected a mug from the cupboard. From the coffee pot, the poured the dark, steaming liquid into the mug and handed it to him. He watched her as she shuffled past him and settled on a stool at the kitchen island. He sipped the drink, almost able to feel the caffeine enter his veins, lighting up his body with energy. He turned, leaving the island and stalked over to the window, moving the drapes and keeping his eyes on Jess as she talked animatedly to Abraham and laughed happily.

Carol reached across the counter top and dragged a small, wicker box and a jacket towards her. She opened up the box and took out a sewing needle and black thread, effortlessly threading the needle and setting to work sewing up a hole in the seam of Ricks, fur-collared jacket. Her eyes moved up to Daryl intermittently and it became obvious what had garnered his attention through the window. Daryl was a quiet soul by all accounts, never one for rambling or mindless chit chat, but he did speak to Carol more than most and on that particular morning, he was quieter than ever. As the seconds ticked by and the hole in the jackets seam shrunk as a result of Carol’s sewing skill, he lingered by the window, slowly sipping his coffee with a blank expression.

“You okay? You’re normally quiet but this is unsettling.” Carol mentioned.

He briefly looked at her. A fleeting, split second glance over his shoulder.

“M’fine.”

He wasn’t fine, Carol could sense it. Call it woman’s intuition or just a vast knowledge of the complexities of Daryl’s character, but she knew that he was far from okay. He was preoccupied, pensive and somewhat deflated.

“You can tell me.” She reminded him in a blasé tone and turned her attention back to her sewing. She knotted the thread and tugged on the fabric either side of the stitches. It would hold fast and Rick would not have to lose the collar of his jacket. Satisfied with her efforts, she tidied away the needle and thread back into the box and folded the garment..

“I know.” Daryl responded softy. He knew Carol would always be there for him as someone to lean on and someone that understood him. Aside from Jess, she was the closest person to him and had shown him the importance of acknowledging his emotions.

“How is her shoulder?” She asked.

“Almost healed.” He grunted, lifting a hand and pushing the blind apart with his fingers to create a hole in which he could get a better view of Jess.

“So, why are you watching her as if she will shatter into a million pieces?” Carol questioned, now staring right at him with a stern expression. Daryl did a small double-take at her and suddenly felt exposed and caught out.

“I ain’t” He mumbled, moving away from the window and sitting down opposite her.

She waited patiently for him to speak, knowing it would happen sooner or later. She could almost see the load on his mind weighing him down. He fidgeted in his seat and sipped his coffee again before biting his lip.

“I dunno what the hell I’m doin’.” He admitted. They locked eyes and he could tell that she was full of sympathy and concern at his sad and overwhelmed voice. He was opening up and she adopted a calm and still presence so as not to scare him back into his silence.

“Can fight, can hunt, can tell good folks from bad ones.” He started. He was looking right at her, a desperate hope that she could follow what he was saying. “Can’t fuckin’ figure out what the hell is goin’ on in my own damn head.”

Carol pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side, lightly patting his hand which rested on the countertop.

“You have to ask yourself what it is that you really want.” She advised.

Daryl shifted and cleared his throat before rubbing at his eyes and growling low in his throat with frustration.

“Y’know what? Just forget I said anythin’.”

His walls were going back up and Carol felt momentarily powerless to stop them for fear of angering him, but she couldn’t abandon hope altogether and decided to shove aside her reservations and continue trying to extract the truth.

“What do you want, Daryl?” She asked directly.

Finding himself backed into a corner and unable to figure out a way to escape such a straight question, his eyes locked with hers. He knew better than to think she would announce anything he told her from the rooftops. His trust in her was unwavering, but discussing such a topic had never been on his radar before and confessing such a personal and real truth made his palms sweat and his chest hum with nerves. He knew exactly what he wanted and it had taken a fight in his own head to come to that conclusion. Admitting it out loud was a new battle altogether.

“Her.” He whispered “I want her.”

Once again, Carol reached out and touched his hand, covering it with her fingers and smiling warmly at him. In his life, Daryl had never experienced the comforting assurance of a good friend, let alone a female and he felt as though he’d reached a turning point by answering her question at all, let alone with something so private. He never remembered enough about his own mother to know if she was as caring and invested in his happiness as Carol was. But Merle had given him the impression that delivering bottles of wine to her bed was the about the extent of their relationship. He wondered if this was what he’d been missing out on for so many years, if he would have found his teenage years and time following his brother like a sheep any easier if he’d been encouraged to express himself in ways other than violence and mischief.

“You need to tell her” She urged, keeping her hand where it was and giving it a slight squeeze. He looked down at where their hands connected and closed his eyes for a moment. A myriad of flashbacks flickered through his memory. Drinking, drugs, robberies, fights, arrests. The abuse. The tormenting, harrowing, haunting abuse. The scars. It was out of the question; he could never tell her.

“I can’t.” He croaked.

“Why not?” She pressed with a short disbelieving huff.

“It’s complicated.” He told her. He took his hand away and let out a long exhalation.

“You think she doesn’t like you that way?”

He caught her eye again, unsure whether to proceed in telling her that he was well aware of Jess’s interest in him and that no matter how much she liked him, he was unwavering sure that he would only end up hurting her. He didn’t know how to be with someone in that way, didn’t know how to be one half of a whole and above all else, when he faced his deepest thoughts, he couldn’t even say that he believed in love at all. But Carol was staring at him with pleading eyes, desperate for him to just say what he was thinking and he’d got that far, it didn’t make sense for him to give up now.

“She likes me.” He disclosed “I uh… I know she likes me”

“She told you that?” She queried quickly and trying not to sound too surprised. It wasn’t a secret to Carol that Jess’s affection for Daryl far surpassed that of a friendship, but to hear him say it filled her heart with joy at the prospect of some actual potential.

“Overheard her talkin’ to Aaron.” He said.

Carol grinned unashamedly. There it was, finally. “I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s obvious you’re her favorite thing.” She beamed.

“Nah, she’s lost her mind. She shouldn’t like me.” He dismissed.

“Daryl, the only thing that matters is that you’re both happy when you’re together. She’s changed you. Brought you out of your shell. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if she hadn’t managed to knock down a couple of those walls you put up to stop anybody getting close to you.” She explained with a strong confidence that what she was telling him was right and that he needed to hear it.

He nervously scratched at the back of his neck. “I can't do this stuff, Carol. Women. This ‘feelings’ bullshit.”

“Just be honest with her. That’s all you need to do.” She reiterated.

“I want…” he rasped before pausing to stand up, signalling that he was more or less done with the conversation. “...I just want better for her.”

“Better? What do you mean, better?” She challenged.

His chin quivered as he chewed his bottom lip and tapped a finger on the counter a few times, pondering over how difficult it felt to express something so personal.

“Better than me.” He uttered.

Carol also stood up, placing her hand flat on the counter top in front of her and leaning closer to him. She’d had enough, she certainly didn’t see him as not good enough for anyone and he was going to listen to her if he liked what she had to say or not.

“Listen to me. You’re a good man. You’re just as good as Rick and Glenn and Abraham and anybody else. Just as good. You’re not who you were.” She affirmed with a reasonably loud thud of her hand every time the word ‘good’ left her lips.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He shrugged.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her frustration to stay below the surface and drew in a deep breath.

“We all bleed the same color, Daryl. You have her blood in your veins, pumping through your heart. She is a part of you.” She continued. She opened her mouth to speak again but stopped when she noticed Daryl’s confused expression.

“What?” He questioned, baffled by her comments. “What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?”

“When she gave you blood to save your life. After that bastard shot you.” She reminded him.

He blinked in surprise and his eyes searched her face for any hint that it might be a twisted joke or her information was incorrect. But she stood firm and not a single thing about her demeanor told him that what he’d just heard was untrue.

“When she did what?” He asked.

Carol recoiled, taking a step back and bringing a hand to her mouth as if to stop herself from disclosing anything else that he didn’t know.

“I thought you knew. I thought she told you. I thought everybody knew. How did you not know?” she rambled.

“She ain’t told me nothin’. What the fuck?” he demanded, his face now fixed into a look of pure shock and bewilderment.

“Ah. Okay. Um.” She stuttered before shaking her head quickly and trying to gather her thoughts. She could only guess that there was a reason Jess had not mentioned it to him and began to fret that she’d opened a can of worms that Jess was trying to keep closed. “You almost bled to death. Denise and Rick…they didn’t know your blood type. Jess said she was O negative, compatible with most blood types. So, she donated blood to you until she almost passed out. She saved your life.”

Daryl’s mouth dropped open and he slowly moved back, away from the counter until his back thudded against the wall behind him. He smoothed a hand down his face and searched the floor with his eyes while his mind cast back to the days after he’d been shot, to all the opportunities she had to tell him, but didn’t. It was something he’d wanted to know, something he needed to know and he just couldn’t fathom why she would want to keep such an important thing to herself. He began to regret being so dismissive of Denise too, ruling out any opportunities for her to disclose what had transpired while he was unconscious. His body filled with dread; why did Jess keep it from him?

“She never told me” He sighed.

Carol rounded the Kitchen island and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. She gave it a slight squeeze and caught his eye, forcing him to lift his dipped head and witness her broad smile.

“Now you know how important you are to her.”

~

The fairground grass was getting long enough to obscure Jess’s feet and knees when she waded through it while checking her fences. The calming sway of the green blades in the breeze and the soft rustling as she meandered through the open spaces was one of the more favored parts of her day. The chance to take stock of the little things. If it wasn’t for the pestering of the odd Walker pressing itself into the diamond shaped fencing and dropping coagulated blood onto the metal barrier, she would have thought it wasn’t far from a normal, perfect, summer's day. She clunked her knife along the metal as she walked, sending a loud, abrasive sound travelling along the chain link and alerting the attention of two Walkers ahead. They paused their swaying and wheezing for a moment, like dogs caught by a high-pitched noise and soon, they were trundling towards her and reaching out at their unfazed and well, equipped prey. Jess positioned herself close to the fence, wincing in disgust when the two undead threw themselves at her. Skin ripped and rotting, a putrid odor and a deep, bubbling of mucus and blood in their chests. With her knife, she used the diamond gaps to eliminate the threats. One through the eye and the other through an already pre-existing hole in the side of its skull. They dropped to the ground, one slumping over the other and Jess backed away, sheathing her knife and making her way to the Ferris wheel.

The twinges in her shoulder were less persistent and the dull ache that had initially made her nauseous was now a thing of the past. Thanks to Daryl’s much loathed physio book and his watchful eye, she had made a decent enough recovery to be able to look after her own property again. But she was yet to be faced with a situation that meant her muscles and tendons were put under strain and she hoped that until she could build her strength back up, she wouldn’t have to be.

She flicked through her book with her legs outstretched and her back popped up against the control box to the Ferris wheel. The sun beat down on her head, warming her scalp and threatening to burn her nose, but she enjoyed it, basking in the warm glow of the sun and locating the folded, bookmarked page in her novel. She was disturbed when the bell rang at the gate and swung her legs from the platform. She trudged through the grass and to the path, raising a hand and waving at Daryl on the other side of the gate.

The hinges creaked loudly with the movement as she tugged the gate open and let Daryl inside. He appeared nervous and uncomfortable, with his hands firmly clamped around the strap of his crossbow at his shoulder. She clanked the gate shut and secured the lock, noticing immediately that he didn’t seem to be quite himself.

“You got a minute?” He requested.

“For you?”

“Mmhmm”

“I always have several minutes for you.” She chirped with a shrug of one shoulder. She paced over to the Ferris Wheel and he followed along behind her until she halted and turned back to him. He noted her casual attire; a T-shirt, jeans and a hoodie. She wasn’t planning on leaving her compound and that, Daryl considered, meant he’d chosen a good time to address a tricky subject. A long and heavy pause meant that her eyes widened in expectation and she pushed her lips into a thin line. His boot tapped on the gravel and his vision scanned the ground. He hoped she couldn’t see him summoning the courage to talk but he felt more exposed and readable than he’d ever felt before.

“Think we should talk.” He rasped.

She almost missed it. A rare, hushed and surprising comment that she’d not heard from Daryl before and as the words echoed in her head, her heart started to race and her body was suddenly awash with nerves.

“Oh… You-you do?” She asked without thinking.

For as long as she’d known him, he’d never been the one to request to talk to her in such a way and it was telling. Jumping to the first conclusion she created, she assumed something was very, very wrong.

“Sure. Are you okay?” She questioned. Her tone was upbeat but even she could her the slight tremor in her voice.

“Mmhm. Just… confused.”

“Why?”

“Things have been kinda weird between us.” He admitted, finally making eye contact and hoping that he could deliver his point without actually having to say the words. Words that he wasn’t even sure he could choose wisely anyway due to being so out of his depth, he was quite literally just winging it. Far from wanting to overwhelm the both of them with the disclosure that he now knew she’d sacrificed her own blood to save his life, he decided that one precarious topic was enough for one day and he would need time to think over the monumental and selfless act that she had committed to make sure that he still existed. “Think ya know what I’m getting’ at here.”

“I do?” She squeaked.

“The uh, the record room. In that house. What we did.” He dropped his hands and a whoosh of breath left his lungs and for the first time ever, Jess saw a flicker of fear on his face. “and the times before that.”

Am I dreaming this? He’s actually bringing this up?! I thought I was going to have to take this uncertainty to the damn grave.

“Oh. Uh. Yeah.” She agreed as casually as possible but when her voice replayed back in her memory, she sounded more like she wanted to run away and hide from the reality of it all. She’d gone from desperately needing to know where she stood, to being terrified of how real discussing things made it feel.

“I guess we should try n’ figure this out.” Daryl suggested.

All at once, Jess remembered the past three weeks in which he had attended to her every need and practically wrapped her in an impenetrable, invisible safety blanket. But also, how he’d kept his distance. He’d held her hand and slept close to her, even let her snuggle against him every now and then but he had not made one, single attempt to kiss her again. She remembered waking next to him one morning, he was facing her with his cheek illuminated by the thin ray of light through the gap in the blacked-out window. He was sleeping peacefully with her hand enveloped in his and curled against the bare skin of his chest where the top of his shirt was unbuttoned. She fought with all her might not to lean down and kiss him awake. The fear of his rejection was too great for her to act on her desire.

“But you haven’t kissed me in three weeks. I thought that was done.” She expressed.

I am far from done with you, girl. I wish I never had to be.

“Was ‘cause of me that ya fucked up ya shoulder.” He replied “Thought I should leave ya be.”

“Oh.” She heaved in a jagged and nervous breath “I don’t blame you for my shoulder. Was my own stupid fault. I thought...” she stopped herself, reluctant to tell him the real reason she’d pinned on his inaction.

“You thought what?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She whispered, trying to brush it aside to avoid telling him the embarrassing truth. His expression changed and before she knew it, he was looking right at her face with pleading eyes, urging her to give him a break and work with him.

“C’mon, Jess. I’m tryin’ here. It does matter.” He pleaded.

“You’re right” She agreed with a nod. “I thought you stopped kissing me because you… because you didn’t like what you saw that evening. The shoulder thing. The clean-up. You, cleaning me up.”

Ugh. She thought. This is embarrassing.

He closed his eyes and sighed, horrified that she would believe such a thing. He wanted to tell her that his priority that day was her recovery, that he wasn’t using it as a chance to ogle her or treat her like she was an object and that if anything, despite his valiant attempt to remain detached from any kind of sexual feelings towards her, he would be lying if he said he didn’t think she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“That ain’t true.” He replied quietly but sincerely. “Hell, I wouldn’t- I don’t… uh…that ain’t true, at all. Alright? I don’t want ya to think that. M’sorry ‘bout this mornin’ too. How I was… in the woods. You were talkin’ bout me not havin’ to stay with ya no more n’ I guess I just- I just didn’t like the sound of that. It’s been good, bein’ so… close… to you.”

Well, I’ll be a bitch. He doesn’t find me repulsive? He likes being close…to me? No, the guy has definitely hit his head or eaten some questionable mushrooms.

Jess was floored and had evidently lost control of her facial features and her expression. She thought she probably looked a little like a startled rabbit but cared little for such a triviality when she’d been given the precious gift of Daryl’s rare and weighty honesty.

“I didn’t mean I wanted you to leave. I don’t. I don’t want that.” She assured him. The last thing she’d wanted was for him to leave and her comments had been born mainly from worrying that he was getting tired of her and needed his own space.

“Ahh fuck.” He cursed to himself. “I’m not good at this shit.”

“Makes two of us” She smiled.

He risked moving closer to her. Close enough to graze her fingers at her side with his. His touch didn’t linger but the sensation did and her skin sparkled with the want for more. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, took a deep breath and released it.

“Kinda miss ya” he confessed.

Jess’s eyebrows pinched together and she narrowed her eyes. He’d been with her for a large proportion of the time for three weeks. How on earth could he possibly miss her?

“I’m right here.” She chuckled nervously “You’ve been living with me for three weeks, dummy. I don’t understand.”

Moving closer still and with the echo of her shy laugh in his head he brushed her hair back from her shoulder before gently feeling over her cheek with his fingertips.

Daryl knew he had to amp up his bravery and so far, the conversation had gone far better than he could have hoped. She had been receptive, non-judgemental and hadn’t flinched in annoyance at his difficulty with expressing himself. He trusted her beyond measure and in that moment, he was certain that he always would.

“Don’t mean like that” He told her, stopping short of spelling it out to her.

She didn’t need to question his statement; it was now obvious to her what he really meant and she felt herself melt at how gentle and forthright he’d been. He was treating her like a fragile, precious piece of glass that could crack at any moment but was his prized possession.

“It ain’t done. Whatever it is. Not unless ya want it to be.” He confirmed.

“You scare me a little” She blurted out of nowhere. She couldn’t even pinpoint when the idea had entered her head.

“Why?”

Because you’re everything to me. Because you’re smart and courageous and selfless. Because you’re a total fucking dreamboat. Because you’re gentle and caring. Because you know I’m a little weird and hang out with me anyway. Because you literally make me weak when you kiss me. Because I know you want to touch me and I really want to let you. Because I am so in love with you, Daryl.

“You make me feel something I haven’t felt before. You make me feel like it’s a good thing to be me.” She replied.

“It is, Jess.” He said with a small smile and a sparkle in his eye.

There she had it, he wasn’t horrified by what he saw the day she dislocated her shoulder, he didn’t find her annoying or a burden and he hadn’t changed his mind. He was telling her, in the only roundabout way he knew how, that he wanted to keep kissing her, if she would let him.

“I-I miss you too” She disclosed with a shaky voice.

He smiled briefly and his eyes fluttered as he leaned down to her, brushing his hand over the side of her face and bringing her lips to his. It was like the first sprinkling of rain during a drought, long awaited and needed. She heard him gasp when his lips left hers transiently and came back for more, with more pressure the second time around, more craving and a sense of built up anticipation that she could feel dispelling form his very being as he kept one hand on her face and slid the other under the elastic hem of her hoodie, spreading his hand out over her hip.

~

Branches and leaves whipped against Carl’s face as he sprinted through the woods, desperately hoping he was on the right path and telling himself that if he just kept running, he would eventually find what he was looking for. His chest was burning and his feet were pounding so hard on the uneven ground that they felt like they were made from cement. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pressed on, running as fast as he could.

In the distance, he could see fencing and finally, his mind surged with relief and an involuntary whimper emerged from his lips. Finally, he’d reached his destination with his veins pumping with adrenaline and his nerves alight with panic. He surged forwards, racing towards the gate and catching his foot on a fallen branch. He stumbled but regained his footing and carried on until his body was slammed against the gate, creating a shockwave that rattled along the entirety of the fencing.

Inside the fence, he could see the dirty angel wings of Daryl’s back through the brightly coloured, chipping paint of the Ferris Wheel. In front of him, he could just about make out that Jess was standing in front of him. Close to him and neither of them were speaking. Carl squinted and laced his fingers into the metal grid of the fence.

“Guys?!” He called out “Jess? Daryl?”

 Daryl pulled away from Jess’s lips, listening intently to what he thought was a voice on the wind but he’d been so wrapped up in what was becoming a moderately amorous tryst that he’d almost ignored the sound altogether.

“You hear that?” He asked Jess who was blinking up at him with reddened lips and in a complete daze.

“Hear what?” She croaked.

Daryl listened again, turning his head to the side and scanning the area. Although he saw nothing, his gut was telling him he was missing something and so, he waited a few more seconds.

“Guys! Help!” Carl yelled at the top of his voice, now slapping his hands on the fence. “She’s gone!”

Daryl turned to the gate, seeing Carl rattling the barrier and yelling at them. It was an automatic reaction that was without thought, but he grabbed Jess’s hand and yanked her along with him as he ran to the path and towards the panicked teenager.

“Carl? Who’s gone?” He called to him from a few feet away. Jess stumbled over her boots both from the surprise of Carl's arrive and potentially being caught kissing Daryl and from her hand being clamped in his as he dragged her to the gate.

“Enid! They took her! They took her! I tried, I tried to follow them. They-they were too fast and there were too many. I-I couldn’t!” He babbled

“What?! Who?!” Jess demanded, now standing beside Daryl and still absent-mindedly holding his hand. Neither of them seemed to be aware that their hands were still entwined and it wasn’t until Jess’s palm grew warm that she glanced down and quickly tore her fingers from his grasp. A flash of worry crossed his features at his thoughtlessness and they both focused their attention on Carl.

“The men that attacked Alexandria. They-they looked like part of the same group. They took her. They just came out of nowhere. From the trees and took her. I-I couldn’t stop them” He explained.

“Oh my god.” Jess muttered worriedly under her breath. Noticing a red mark that was rapidly becoming darker on Carl's cheekbone, signalling that he’d been hit. Her temper rapidly raged from the pit of her stomach and she grit her teeth and inhaled through her nose.

“Go tell Deanna.” Daryl told her before stepping closer to the gate and opening it up for Carl. “What way did they go?” He asked him.

“North, up to the highway, I’m not sure from there. I couldn’t keep up. I lost them. I tried, Daryl.”

His eyes filled with tears but Jess could tell he was managing to hold them back enough to stop them from spilling down his cheeks. Now wasn’t the time to cry, now was the time for action and Carl knew that more than any of the other teenagers back at Alexandria. He’d been through more than them, endured things that such a young soul should never have to shoulder. Carl was resilient and brave and she knew then that her and Daryl had their work cut out in trying to convince him to stay behind while they went out to look for Enid.

“I know, man. I know you did everything you could. You did the right thing comin’ to get us.” Daryl cooed, resting a hand on his shoulder and shaking it slightly “Were they on foot?”

“At first” he nodded quickly “Then they got in a truck. They left tire marks.”

“Alright. Jess, go tell Deanna.” He repeated, much to her annoyance.

“Uh…no?” She challenged “I’m going with you.”

“Are you fuckin’ crazy?” He stepped closer to her and turned her around with a hand on her arm to block Carl hearing him. “You forgotten what they are? What they did to you? What they do to women?”

Her dreams hadn’t let her forget. The persistent nightmares only kept at bay by the safety and comfort of Daryl’s presence. The sight of Aaron and Eric’s kitchen was a constant reminder, as was the scar on the back of her head which was still tender to the touch even then. She most definitely hadn’t forgotten and it was for that reason that she had to do everything in her power to rescue the troubled girl that wandered the woods from a fate worse than death.

“Not for a single second. But I've been looking out for that girl since I got here and I’m not about to abandon her now. So, I’m going with her if you say so or not.”

Daryl quickly took a glimpse at Carl who was nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other but still managing to appear fascinated by the closeness of the two people in front of him.

“Jess…what they tried to do to you last time… I can’t let that happen to ya. I won’t.” He pressed. The thought of her being anywhere near the group that hurt her so badly and had intentions to subject her to worse filled his heart with a fraught sense of discomfort and he swore to himself on that day that if anyone was to try to hurt her again he would not hesitate to destroy them.

“So, don’t.” She shrugged, terrified at her own determination and sheer grit.

~

Jess volunteered to take Carl to Alexandria while Daryl began tracking the mass of scuffed footprints through the woods and up to the highway until Jess managed to spot him emerging from the trees between deep and obvious skidded tracks that led onto the road. She stopped the car and he climbed in, shooting her an unimpressed look at her determination to tag along. Jess hadn’t disclosed what had happened to anyone inside the walls, mainly due to lack of time and focusing on running through the gate, telling Carl to go home and sprinting to Deanna’s house in order to pick up some keys. She found the house to be empty and so, helped herself before racing across the street to the armory to collect two guns, jumping back into the truck and speeding away from the town.

With the windows wound down and her head full of horrendous possible outcomes, Jess struggled to listen to Daryl as he lay out his opinion on what route they should take while smoothing a map over the dash. After asking him to repeat himself twice, he simply told her to stay on the same road until he told her to change direction.

Hours seemed to pass but the light never dwindled and Jess could only conclude that it only felt like so much time had passed when really, they’d been on the road for no more than an hour. She tried to focus, tried to push aside her fretting over what could possibly befall Enid if they didn’t find her. Daryl was eagerly watching the road and the trees on either side for signs of a possible ambush, but as they pressed on, he noticed nothing untoward.

A noise from the back of the vehicle soon stirred Jess from her anxious train of thought and she looked over at Daryl, who had evidently heard it too. He checked the backseat and the footwells and gave her a confused look. She shrugged and expressed that it was probably something rolling around in the trunk that she hadn’t bothered to check on their way out. She’d been in such a rush that all she could think about was obtaining a vehicle and weapons.

But then, it happened again. Clunk. Clunk. Bump. They both looked at each other again and Jess eased her foot off the accelerator.

“That ain't nothin’ rollin around. That’s somethin’ movin’.” Daryl rasped as he leaned through the gap in the seats and turned his ear to the sound.

Without a warning, the rear seat hatch sprang open and smacked on the leather seat surface.

“WHAT THE?!” Daryl shouted as he flung himself backwards in shock, hitting the vehicle’s radio and filling the cab with loud country music. Jess, also startled by the out of the blue occurrence, gripped the steering wheel and used all her focus to bring the truck back under control after it was sent swerving from one side of the road to the other. Her hands scattered frantically over the small levers either side of the steering wheel and in her terror, she began to flick them up and down. The indicators flashed and the windscreen wipers screeched across the dry glass. Johnny Cash blared from the speakers and if Jess wasn’t too busy trying to keep the vehicle under control at the same time and pushing her ear to her shoulder to muffle the music she would have been concerned with how many Walkers they were now attracting.

“Holy fuckin’ mackerel what is going on?! What is that?! Turn that shit down! Oh my god, my fucking ears! I’m going deaf!” Jess yelled.

Daryl scrambled about, hitting the radio over and over until the music finally stopped and he was able to turn back around to investigate the reason the hatch had slammed open and almost caused a crash. His eyes widened and his lips parted when he saw Carl hanging through the hatch, covered in sweat and gasping for air.

“You gotta be kidding me right now” He growled.

In the rear-view mirror, Jess stared in astonishment at the sight of Carl struggling to pull himself through the backseat.

“Is that-is that Carl?! Tell me that is not Carl! Daryl?!” Jess screeched.

“It’s Carl.”

“It’s Carl?! What the fuck is Carl doing in the trunk?”

“How the hell do I know?!”

“The kid is in the fucking trunk, Daryl!”

“I know”

“The kid is in the trunk, it’s like a thousand degrees outside and the kid is in the trunk!”

“I know.”

“This cannot be happening! He’s in the fucking trunk! He could have died!”

“I FUCKING KNOW, JESS!” He bellowed at her, rendering her silent but still reeling from the idea that Rick’s son had most probably stowed away while she wasn’t looking, meaning they would all have some serious explaining to do once Rick found out. 

“C’mon” Daryl urged as he took hold of Carl's gangly arms and hoisted him through the hatch. His sheriffs hat caught on the plastic clip of the hole and once he was upright on the seat, he reached inside to retrieve it, placing it on his head to cover his sweat soaked hair. His once white T-shirt was now a light shade of grey from the perspiration and his cheeks were burning red. His breathing was settling and he wound down the window beside him, saying nothing and appearing highly disturbed.

“Hooooooh buddy are you in a whole lotta trouble right now.” Jess chuckled in a sinister tone. She guided the car to the side of the road and hit the brakes. Jumping out from the drivers side , she slammed the door and sent a careless crash of a noise filtering through the trees. Daryl followed suit but didn’t bother to shut the door on his side, he figured Jess had just made enough noise for the both of them.

“Rick is gonna lose his marbles when he finds out you’re gone, Carl.” Daryl told him as he opened the backseat door. Carl swung his legs out but stayed where he was, the thought of standing in the sun being a lot less appealing that it normally would have been.

“Shit in my mouth and call it a sundae!” Jess raged, stamping her boot on the road's surface. “You are dumber than a box of rocks!”

“I’m sorry” Carl croaked.

“Hey, Jess-” Daryl tried to cut in in order to calm her down.

“-NO!” She shot back at him with a point of her finger before turning back to Carl “Can you not feel how hot it is today?! You almost roasted your damn self to death in there! You scared the shit out of both of us!”

“I wasn’t scared.” Daryl mumbled as he lit a smoke and wandered into the middle of the road.

Jess whirled around and glared at him with fury.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but you were the one that started the Johnny Cash show in there and damn near burst my eardrums!” She cried.

“Was just surprised…s’all.” He shrugged “You’re the one that done turned it into the fuckin’ disco car”

The irate look on her face was hard to ignore and Daryl did little to hide the fact that he found it incredibly amusing when she lost her temper in this way. She bit her tongue and opted to back off, it wasn’t Daryl she was mad at, after all.

Carl sighed and wiped at his face, his eyes stung with the salty sweat and he wanted nothing more than a cold shower or a swimming pool and a popsicle at that moment in time. Jess leaned against the side of the car next to him and tried to get her temper under control.

“I can help. I want to help.” Carl said, sounding exhausted.

“Carl, since you arrived at Alexandria you’ve been given one task; stay inside the house when there’s trouble. To this day, you have not managed that and you were just re-born though the back seat of a car because you were stupid enough to lock yourself in there, not only on a real hot day but on a rescue mission you are not supposed to be a part of. You do not get a say, okay?!” She explained.

Daryl walked back from the center of the road and rested a hand on his hip while he took a drag of his cigarette and studied Carl.

“We ain’t got time to take him back.” He stated with a glance at Jess.

“Then let’s just leave him here and claim ignorance.” She replied casually.

As much as he wanted to laugh, he simply raised one eyebrow and held back a smile. Her amusing take on anger and her way of wording things was unique and he hoped she never lost it.

“Jess.” He warned.

“I’m kidding.” She scoffed. “Sorta. We’ll have to take him with us.”

Daryl leaned on the open door of the vehicle and dipped his head, catching Carl's eye and encouraging him to lift his head so he could see his face. His cheeks were regaining their usual color and he was seemingly recovering from his time in the tin box of heat.

“You stay in the car n’ do as we say or you’ll get us all killed, you hearin’ me?” He questioned firmly.

“Yeah, OK.” Carl nodded. Even if he wanted to protest, he didn’t have the energy at that point. Hearing a low growl in Daryl’s throat, he gathered quite rapidly that the archer, his father’s best friend and one of the people his entire group looked to for protection, was quite unimpressed by his actions.

“I could tan your hide for this, man. She’s hysterical…” He motioned to Jess with the wave of a hand in her direction “…but she’s right. This was stupid and dangerous”

Carl’s face changed and a certain boldness crept across his features. He took a quick peep at Jess before blinking up at Daryl.

“You’d do it.” He said clearly.

“What?” Daryl asked.

“If it was Jess that got taken. You’d do the same. You really like her.” He declared.

Daryl felt his chest constrict and his breath catch in his throat. He almost didn’t want to check Jess’s reaction because of the heavy awkwardness of it all. In a split second, Carl had managed to switch the atmosphere with just one simple sentence. But Jess had heard every word and quickly decided to remove herself from the situation. It was all she could do to stop the raging embarrassment that was threatening to expose itself across her cheeks.

“I’m just going to take a walk. Check out the…scenery” She said nervously as she pointed to the line of darkened trees opposite. For miles, both sides of the road were the exact same and there really wasn’t much to look at but Jess was determined to put distance in between herself and Daryl and Carl. She pretended she couldn’t hear them as she walked away. Unbeknownst to them, she could decipher most of their conversation.

“You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that.” Daryl told Carl as he checked on Jess to find her pacing about and tapping her thigh with her fingers.

“I know you got shot trying to save her.” He mentioned.

“We ain’t talkin’ ‘bout me, we’re talkin’ ‘bout you. Focus.” He told him, tapping his own temple to ram the point home.

“But it’s the same thing.” Carl countered, set in his decision to make Daryl see that there was very little difference in Jess being kidnapped or Enid being kidnapped. The result would be the same. “You’d want to go and find Jess if she was kidnapped.”

He couldn’t lie. Daryl was never one for lies and especially not to an impressionable teenager. With Carl waiting for a response, Jess hovering nearby and the clock ticking away the chances of rescuing Enid, he took a deep breath.

“Yeah, alright. I would.” He admitted. “I get it, okay? You like her and ya can’t stand the thought of her gettin’ hurt. You’re gonna have to come with us but you're stayin' in this car. You good with that?”

“Yeah. I’m good with that.” Carl agreed.

---

tagging as requested: @lilred254​ @woundmetender​ @lonewolf471​

---

MasterList

[canvasofthecosmos]

Traits I’ve noticed in the rising signs I’ve met

Aries   Catchphrase: “Another Day in Paradise.” A lot of head shaking- pretty much uses their heads to point to objects and communicate in general, hates wasting their breath. First ones to get frustrated when confronted by any obstacles. Firm believer that if you want it done right, do it yourself. Starts a new hobby every few months then gets bored and goes on to the next. Wants SO BADLY for someone to be their gym buddy. Actually just wants everyone to be their friend, they talk to strangers like they’ve known them for years. Falls asleep instantly but also wakes up a lot in the middle of the night. Already thinking of what to get into after this. Taurus Catchphrase: "Hold your horses." Slow but sure footing, maintains eye contact, knows when to raise their voice. Moves like they have a weight on their shoulders. Just wants to get everything out of the way all at once so they end up furiously multitasking. Actually, probably winds up finishing everything at once because they procrastinated too long. During the times they should be catching up on work, they can probably be found doodling, trying to form a band or cooking. Tries to pull all-nighters because they even procrastinate in going to bed, then gives up some time after 3 am and oversleeps that morning. Gets new clothes and then proceeds to wear their staple sweatshirt for the next month regardless. Gemini Catchphrase: Whatever their favorite meme is at the moment. Will Stare You Down with such intent that you think they have beef, but it’s cause they either heard a story about you through the grapevine or just think you’re cute. Will find any excuse to make small talk. Probably talked to you once in passing and now always stops to chat when they see you. Great writers because they LOVE gossip almost as much as practical jokes, preferring to sit back and watch the magic unfold before them. Most likely to get yelled at by a teacher in grade school because they were nose deep in a novel in the middle of a lesson. Takes at least one (1) different personality test online a day. Lays in bed staring at the ceiling for at least an hour before they finally fall asleep. Signs of aging cease at the ripe age of 12. Cancer Catchphrase: “What do you mEan.” Tend to have rounder features, therefore more insecure about their weight even when they’re perfectly healthy. Fueled entirely by emotional fulfillment. You can tell EXACTLY how they’re feeling just by looking at them. Loves to baby anything they can, especially small pets. Always has like 3 candles burning at once. Has 1 tapestry per wall of their room/house. Their clothes look SO comfy but so stylish?? Try hards as kids but when they grow up, they shamelessly enjoy things that they pretended to hate when they were young. You can call them crying at any time of the day and they will come running with a wine bottle in one hand and a homemade meal in the other. Has to clean off their bed before they lay down every night not because its dirty but they have more pillows than one human could ever use at once. At least one of their parents, more likely their mom if they’re on good terms, will adopt all their friends as her additional children. Leo Catchphrase: “So...” (used to exaggerate, inquire, and to connect ideas, often all at once). I know that everyone says this but their hair is the first thing you see, there’s just so much how do you miss it?? So ready to party it has to be unhealthy. Will hug you and endearingly call you bitch within 5 minutes of knowing them. Ready to start so much shit at any time (air signs love em because they can just stand a safe distance away and take it all in) but eventually they or (more likely) the Offender gives in and it’s all good... for now. Heart on their sleeve 24/7. Needs to set the stage of their life all the time and has a playlist for every Mood, which means at least 40. A walking, talking advertisement for their favorite things- #1 hype man/wing man. Loves to sleep, will sleep through any/accidentally turn alarms off instead of snooze them so they have to set 5-10 at least. Will stay in bed as long as possible, and are very rarely morning people. Most likely to rock bangs and pigtails into adulthood. At least half of their possessions are holographic/glittery/light-up. Virgo Rising Catchphrase: "It’s no problem." Chuckles to themselves often because they pick up on the weirdest little details around them. The only time their hands aren’t busy fiddling with something is when they sleep. Seem mad shy at first but will dissolve tension in an instant with a wisecrack. Thrives in awkward situations and uses these opportunities to make friends. Makes things uncomfortable on purpose to watch people squirm. First person in the room to speak up about something and show initiative in projects. Probably fluent in technology, a trade like mechanics, culinary arts or cosmetology, or at least one instrument. Animal whisperers, probably has a couple cats and some fish. Still learning how to get their lives together. Only warning signs before they snap is a split second of frustrated silence. Drawing skills were enhanced the most during grade school because they drew on every surface their little hands could get to. Libra Rising Catchphrase: Probably whatever their friends have greeted them the most with this week. Desperate to connect, so they’ll talk about pretty much anything and probably won’t be bothered by someone they recently met sitting thigh-to-thigh. Makes friends with gorgeous folks but also flocks to loud, outspoken people. Personality is different around different people. Least likely to talk about their family. Perpetually confused but still truckin’. Will talk about anything and everything and see both sides. Only plays devil’s advocate when they don’t care about a topic/point of view and just want you to shut up. Subconsciously acts differently depending on who they’re around. Presentation is mad ambiguous so not only can they easily pull off androgyny but they can somehow flaunt styles that are hard to pull off, and then look like they can be anywhere from 16 to 30 to boot?? Takes a long time to fall asleep because they want to get their life together and plan the most when its time to go to bed.  Scorpio Rising Catchphrase: -they don’t have one as they prefer to communicate solely with their eyes. Either you love them or your hate them. The longer you go without seeing them, the harder it is to recognize them next time you do. Try so hard to look big and scary and unapproachable as a defense mechanism. You only need to know them for a few days to realize that they’re actually HUGE softies. Makes smart-ass comments under their breath when you do something ridiculous because “they can’t help it.” That’s partially true, but mostly they really want you to hear their mumbling so that they don’t have to spell it out to you. Trust me, their backhanded remark you weren’t supposed to hear is much nicer then what they’ll say to your face when provoked. Other than this, they can communicate perfectly with only their eyes. Most likely to give the best advice that no one listens to, but also the least likely to listen to good advice themselves because they learn best from experience. Believes there’s a time and place for everything. Pretends to hate cuddling but snuggle in their sleep; sleeps under a minimum of 3 soft blankets with the fan going. Sagittarius Rising Catchphrase: "I Know, Right?" Either smiling like a fool because they’re completely oblivious or because they know something you don’t, it’s hard to tell. Probably has long legs, most likely to fill out as they age. Somehow always approachable bc they are going into everything with gusto. In matters regarding everything but themselves, they blindly trust everything and everyone around them. Turns everything into a joke. Annoyingly agreeable until they feel comfortable with you, at which point they go full know-it-all mode. They have no patience and once they reach their wits end, they will tell you exactly what’s on their mind and they don’t care who you think you are. Always finding trouble because they have no impulse control and no respect for authority. Once you get them on their soapbox there’s no escape. Can only sleep in total darkness, probably sleeps with a pillow on their face. When you find them asleep in their bed, you’ll wonder at first if they’re dead if you can even see them buried under the covers. Capricorn Rising Catchphrase: Anything sarcastic. Rushes through everything so they have more time to relax before they go to bed at 8 pm sharp. Prominent bone structure, especially cheekbones. Will drop everything to help even though their plate is full because they secretly care but will cover this up with complaints. Gives people they care about allowances of some kind, especially when they have more of something you want/need. Hardest rising to find self acceptance/love, but wind up the best at it. Faces adversity with dark humor. True personality is hidden behind at least a dozen masks. First of their friends to have a Finsta. Rare to find one without an addiction to coffee or cigarettes. Learned at a super young age how to cook for themselves. Most likely to be a latch-key kid. Buys everything online. Researches everything they partake in beforehand at least a week before. Likes to sleep early and wake up early so they don’t miss anything. Plans their next adventure when they try to sleep. Aquarius Rising Catchphrase: something cryptic under their breath that doesn't make sense and can't be translated to modern english. Looks more like their ancestors further up the family tree than their own parents. Has to be raise as many eyebrows as possible. Does everything in a backwards, roundabout way that makes sense to only them. Quickly figures out out all the possible outcomes of a situation, still goes for the most hair-brained route. Makes everything a meme. Weirdest taste in music and fashion, but somehow rocks it effortlessly. They know exactly the impact they have on others and uses it to their advantage. Considers themselves the mom friend. Gone at the first sign of emotional involvement. Attracts drama but denounces it as petty at the same time. Like Capricorn, it’s hard to find one that isn’t addicted to something that’s bad for them. Can only fall asleep if they feel like they accomplished something and made a difference that day, no matter how small.  Pisces Rising Catchphrase: “Livin’ the dream.” Really just wants to go home and dissolve. This is the hardest sign to guess, but once you get their birth time it all makes sense. Sad puppy eyes perk up and reflect everything you are when you have their attention. Consumes media you’ve never heard of. Probably came out of the womb knowing how to play an instrument. Escapism of choice is either drugs and alcohol or fantasy games/books/movies. Half the time it’s impossible to tell if they are currently messed up, hungover or just tired, but it’s always at least one of the three. Doesn’t realize how much people drain them until it’s too late. They try very hard to give it their all, but most of the time they’re running on a low energy reserve as-is. Ironically most awake at bedtime, daydreaming of something to give them hope and a reason to wake up in the morning.

[devinfm]

joe keery. cis male. he/him.  ／  jack devin just pulled up blasting video killed the radio star by the buggles — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old radio show host, i’ve heard they’re really impulsive, but that they make up for it by being so captivating. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say obscure vintage horror comics, blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods, and vivid descriptions of spine - chilling tales  . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )

hey there, demons! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i also write parker ( @prkrfm​​ ) which is the best place to contact me for plotting!

i. stats

𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢: jackson willard devin

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman

𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts

𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995

𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio

𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual

𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am

𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱��: captivating, witty, resolute.

𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.

ii. history

jackson willard “jack” devin was born on halloween day ( yes, really ) in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ). his mother stayed home with him as he was growing up while his father is a boston cop turned sheriff of the county and he has one sibling, a younger sister.

outside of the popular tourist spots, his hometown has a very close - knit, stuck in the 80s vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone for their entire lives because no one ever leaves and no one new ever moves in. phone and internet signals are nearly impossible to come by, so the local arcade and the video store still have quite a booming business in the year 2020. jack grew up in a not - so - typical small town suburban gothic environment, his dad’s income being just enough for them to get by every month.

he was an energetic kid who cycled through all sorts of interests, trying out everything from little league ( disaster ) to music lessons ( not as much of a disaster, but he wound up getting bored of it ). nothing seemed to really stick until he got his first horror comic : a vintage issue of tales from the crypt with tattered, yellowing pages. he was five years old and paid five cents for it at an elderly neighbor’s yard sale and from that moment on he was hooked. it started with the comics, but he quickly expanded his horizons to movies, books, and television in the genre of horror.

he got intro drawing and that was the only thing besides his newfound interest in horror that he could sit still for. at first he would just try to re - draw the panels in his comic books, but soon he was drawing anything and everything that caught his interest and he was getting good. he was being homeschooled by his mother at the time, but once friends and family and, well, everyone took notice of his skill, they were encouraging his parents to nurture his talent.

his parents fought about it. his dad didn’t see the value in his skill and wanted him to instead focus on academics, aspiring towards his son one day becoming a lawyer or a businessman or even following in his footsteps. jack never wanted that for himself. he was homeschooled by his mom up until then and she believed in him. it was with her blessing that he would go to a real school for the first time at the age of fourteen, starting off his freshman year at a high school that was a thirty minute train ride away in boston and catered exclusively to youth who demonstrated an exceptional talent in some area of the fine arts.

jack did well in school, but his grades probably would have been a lot better still if he didn’t start purposely acting out as his relationship with his dad got worse and worse. he started skipping classes, getting caught trespassing in cemeteries at 2am, and smoking a lot of weed.

when it came time for college, jack planned to attend art school. he swears he did. he looked a few schools on the west coast to get away from his dad for a few years yikes and planned to apply, but on the deadline date he got so high that he forgot to submit his portfolios. yes, really.

he loaded up his van ( a turquiose monstrosity he painted to look like the mystery machine ) and headed out to california anyway after telling his parents that he would be attending UCLA. of course, they quickly found it that it was a lie and his dad was furious. the two got into a huge fight over the phone and things were said. the result is that jack and his father haven’t spoken to each other ever since.

he did lots of odd jobs while he was on the road and basically lived in his van, which didn’t change right away when he decided to settle in LA, but he eventually got a job fetching coffee for the late night employees at a local radio station.

it was the typical, cliché story : the regular late night host called out of work at the last minute, there was no one else around and they were going to be on air in ten seconds. jack was thrown in front of the microphone and told to think fast !

he did, and the listeners loved him for it. whether it was his ramblings about horror movies or his thick boston accent or his reckless use of swear words on live radio, he turned out to be a massive hit. the successful night earned him a gig as an occasional substitute deejay, and with each broadcast he grew more and more popular, and about two years ago he was finally given his own program.

the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchman and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.

it’s something that he never expected or picturing himself doing, but now he can’t imagine doing anything else. he’s become really passionate about revitalizing the field and bringing radio into the 21st century. he signed a HUGE contract with the studio when his show first started and now he’s a quite well known radio personality in the area and across the country.

iii. extras

huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck.

well known for his on air antics. he’ll light a joint in the middle of his radio show, he’ll prank call a friend and broadcast it to the entire city, he’ll curse in every single sentence and skate by on the after hours excuse when he’s reprimanded for it. he’s so outlandish and bizarre and like nothing that’s ever been heard on the radio before, and it just draws people in.

he often seems shy in person, but it’s more like he’s just a little socially awkward, something which also shines through in occasional non - malicious but blunt remarks and general lack of regard for what people think of him. he really just…doesn’t care.

genuinely seems to believe it’s either halloween day and / or the year 1986 at any given moment as that’s about as recent as his pop culture references get. he’s never heard of the k*rdashians, he doesn’t know what the mcu is, and the phrase yeet means absolutely nothing to him. mention any of it to him and he’ll just stare blankly bc he honestly doesn’t have a clue.

HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

still draws. especially if he has to still for a stretch of time, then he’ll take out his latest sketchbook ( he goes through a lot of them ) and start doodling. he’s still quite good, mostly in his favored comic - esque style.

BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL

a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled…he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.

most of the time he’s a really easygoing person, a good friend and very loyal to the people he cares about. well - meaning, not the best at advice but he’s more likely to try and cheer a person up anyway.

he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm.

iv. wanted connections

maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )

close friends

friends

guests on his radio show

fans / haters of his radio show

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )

“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

[devilsbound-a]

*ﾟ· ˚  ✧ wolfie zaharov ⁞ ❛ devil in me.  /  introduction.

what’s up sluts ! admin fox here with yet another blog & yet another character .... if we’ve never met before, damn ya lucky ! but anyways lmao i’m fox, i’m twenty years old ( twenty-one next month woop woop ) and my pronouns are she/they but really whatever u wanna use is fine. this muse is kinda old but i’ve never played him in a group setting so i’m really excited to throw my garbage son into the world ! if you’d like to plot with wolfie, just give this post a ♡ or message me !

pro tip: add /mobile to the end of my url so it is easier to read !

⋆ ◦ ° ☾ matthew daddario + cis male + he/him — have you met wolfgang ‘wolfie’ zaharov? they are a twenty-eight year old known around town as the dirtbag. they currently work for the savages as a pimp, though they are also a preacher. they are a bisexual scorpio, which means they are amicable + hard-working, as well as selfish + untrustworthy. all black clothing. shaky tattoos. rosaries laying over chest hickeys. 

*ﾟ· ˚  ✧ wolfie zaharov ⁞ ❛ devil in me.  /  history.

wolfie is ajax anderson’s oldest kid ( that people know of lmao ), and he was raised by the man. his mother abandoned him with his dad when wolf was just two months old, being a drug-addict stripper that certainly wasn’t looking for the responsibility of raising a child; wolf has no memory of his mother, and the only information he has of her is the name on his birth certificate. 

ever since he was a teenager, ajax always raised wolfie to be his heir, to follow his father’s footsteps and to, one day, run the town’s local brothel. wolfgang was never interested in it, actually. for as long as he could remember, wolfie was always disgusted by his dad’s actions. he hated the life of crime, hated that his father was running a brothel, hated the gang running the town. 

wolfie’s version of teenage rebellion was to join the local church. he swore celibacy and to uphold God’s words when he was just seventeen, being one of the youngest preachers in town. wolf spent a couple of years traveling the world to spread the word of god after that, and the time away from his family and his town only made him realize the mistake he had made. 

deep down, wolfgang has always been amoral with a penchant for trouble. as he stood in front of a packed church reciting the bible, all wolfie wanted to do was hang out with the cute guy from the bakery next door and smoke some weed. he drowned his personal demons for years, denying his own pleasures because that was what he was taught to do. about five years ago, however, he simply couldn’t do it anymore. 

wolfie came back to valdez about eight years ago, and at one point he simply broke. he came back to his father with his tail between his legs, begging for a job and some comfort. it was balthazar’s idea that he kept his day job as the town’s preacher: despite his wrongdoings wolf is still a very religious man, and balthazar caito saw advantage in having some good blackmail material on the local church in case he ever needed it. 

*ﾟ· ˚  ✧ wolfie zaharov ⁞ ❛ devil in me.  /  personality.

wolf is... an ass. he does only what he wants to, either it be having sex with strangers, beating someone in a bar fight or nearly overdosing on a friday night. he has no impulse control, and doesn’t care how his actions may affect the people around him. 

despite his infidelity when it comes to romantic relationships, wolfgang is loyal to the core when it comes to everything else, which is why he didn’t leave the savages when his father did. wolfie started our with the savages, he intends on dying with ( and for ) them.

he can be pretty arrogant too--- wolfie knows he’s a hot mess, but he’d rather focus on the ‘hot’ than the ‘mess’. 

will probably hit on you. and your sister. and your dad. and your mom. 

he’s still a good shoulder to cry on, if you need. during his years as a preacher wolfgang became a pretty good therapist, and he still gives off advice to anyone who may come to him. ( he’s the definition of ‘do as i tell you not as i do’. )

*ﾟ· ˚  ✧ wolfie zaharov ⁞ ❛ devil in me.  /  appearances.

he’s 6′5, with a mess of dark curly hair he hardly ever brushes. 

always with a scruff bc he’s too lazy to shave everyday, though he never lets it turn into an actual beard. 

he has a bunch of tattoos, none of them very well done. most of his tattoos are black and white and can easily be considered doodles. usually only gets a tattoo when he’s plastered. 

wolf has a silver nose ring on the left nostril, but he doesn’t wear it too often anymore. 

dresses in mostly black or dark clothing; he’ll put on a leather pant whenever he’s trying to get fucked but usually he’s in slacks and a black button down. 

*ﾟ· ˚  ✧ wolfie zaharov ⁞ ❛ devil in me.  /  plots.

a best friend — more like a confidant, the one person that gets to see wolf with his guard down; probably one of the few people in town that doesn’t underestimate him.

a childhood friend — wolfie left town at eighteen, and he also left this person behind. maybe they had a lot of plans of moving away together, of escaping life in a small town and becoming somebody together in the big city; instead, frank walked away in the first chance he got and abandoned this muse without second thought.

an ex — they dated for around two years, maybe even lived together for a while ? either way it ended horribly because wolf just couldn’t keep it in his pants.

a friend with benefits — wlf doesn’t do exclusive relationships very well, but he’s great in the sex department; this character would know that well, since he is constantly hitting them up for some fun with no strings attaches. 

an enemy — maybe they had beef before wolfie moved away, maybe they just met. either way, thy are constantly butting heads, maybe even brawling a couple of times.

a hate-sex type of fling --- they hate each other for some reason, can never be in the same room without screaming at each other. that is, until they’ve had a couple of drinks and end up sleeping together as often as they fight.

a protective friend --- wolf definitely doesn’t have his shit together. maybe this person doesn’t either, but that doesn’t stop them from caring for wolfie like the mother he has never had. 

workers --- wolfie currently runs his father’s old brothel. maybe some of the escorts work for him ? we could always add more to this plot, maybe wolfie is also a regular client, maybe the escort hates his guts, maybe they feel protected by him.

a neighbor — maybe they get along, maybe they hate each other with the passion of a thousand suns. who knows ?

a roommate --- wolfie is probably the worst roommate ever; he’s constantly bringing strangers home at late hours, he drinks and do too many drugs in the living room, probably doesn’t know how to clean up after himself. he makes really good food and pays his part of the rent on time, though. 

a party friend — wolfie loves to go wild, and this person isn’t stopping him. in fact, quite the opposite, with the two constantly egging each other on.

a cuddle buddy — wolfgang is definitely a touchy person, and so is this muse. they are always pda’ing in public, though it’s very platonic for the both of them.

a partner in crime — wolfie is constantly up to no good. some nights it’s just sitting in a parking lot drinking his weight on vodka, some nights it’s nearly getting killed in a knife fight at the local bar. whatever it is, this person is always there to back him up.

a childhood best friend — this two were attached by the hip all throughout their childhood and teenage years. in the past couple of years they grew apart, and are now trying to light up that flame again; which creates several awkward hang out sessions and late nights of doing the weird stuff they used to do as kids.

[thegoddamnfangirl]

Ancient History

Pairings- Steve Rogers x Awkward!Nerdy!Reader

Word Count- 1,488

Warnings- None

Reader is a super awkward, nerdy person, and she makes a complete idiot of herself in front of her idol, Captain America.

  You were at the Smithsonian when you first saw him. You had a clipboard in your hand and were scribbling away in front of the Captain America exhibit- not that the Smithsonian could tell you anything you didn’t know about him, you just thought it would be easier to note down some things in layman’s terms, in which you could start your first class with ease. You kind of tended to start rambling away huge monologues of complicated history when it came to World War 2, your major area of study.

  Professor (l/n), World War 2 expert.

That’s what you called yourself in your head.

   You bit your lower lip when you found yourself facing a large mural of Captain America.

  Was it possible to fall in love with someone you had never met? You certainly thought so. After all, you fell in love with a subject, history. You could fall in love with the people in it, too.

  You remembered when you had first found out someone had found him. That he was alive. At first, it seemed like a cruel joke, a hoax of some kind. But it wasn’t....

 Lost in your thoughts, you accidentally bumped into someone.

 “Woah!” you said as their head hit yours- you shook yourself as there was a small crash and the sound of glass breaking. Your clipboard fell to the floor face up, showing all the doodles you had been doing along the margins. Most of them went something like “cap’s bae” or “this is WW2!!!” or just stars, stripes and hearts.

  “I’m sorry!” said a startled, male voice. You looked up.

  His blue eyes met your (e/c) ones and your heartbeat sped up.

  “Captain America!” you gasped in a low voice.

He looked slightly alarmed, but then his eyes fell on your clipboard. A grin broke out on his face- he was so gorgeous.

   “I-uh-I’m sorry-” you began to stutter.

He had picked up your clipboard and was studying it with an interested expression.

  “(y/n) (l/n),” he read the name on top of the first page. He looked at you and smiled. “Please to meet you. I’m Steve Rogers.”

  “I know,” you said, awkwardly smiling back while screaming hysterically on the inside. “I’m a huge fan.”

 “Mmhm, it appears so,” he said, handing your clipboard back. “you’ve got a lot of stuff about me on there.”

 “W-well, that’s because I’m not- I’m not creepy, I swear, I just, um, well I teach,” you managed to blurt out, fidgeting with your pen.

  He picked up his cracked glasses and put them on.

“You teach?” he asked, sounding interested.

  “I’m going to, my first class is the day after tomorrow,” you mumbled.

  There you were, talking to Captain America in the middle of a museum- the real American dream- and you were making an ass of yourself.

“So...You teach...like, me?” he asked, smiling again.

  “World War 2 is my area of expertise,” you said, something of the professional awakening in you. 

  “I’d like to hear more about that,” he said softly.

“Would you like some coffee?” you asked on an impulse- the second the words tumbled out of your mouth, you felt like curling up and dying. He would say no. Of course he would. Why would he go out with a mere mortal like you?

  “That would be great,” he said brightly.

You blinked, sure your ears were deceiving you.

  “Really?” you asked.

“Yeah? Really,” he confirmed, chuckling lightly.

You took him to a small, cozy cafe where you both had some coffee and talked.

And oh, boy, you talked.

  Once Steve found out just how extensive your knowledge and understanding of the 1940s was, he was ecstatic in his expressions.

  You knew almost all there was to it- the war, its impacts on society both German and American (and the countries included in the rest of Axis and Allied powers). And you knew about Steve, you knew about Bucky.

  “He was hailed as a war hero,” you said in regards to Bucky. “He was someone the soldiers looked up to more than they looked up to you, Steve, primarily because you were a super soldier. They could only admire you. But Bucky, they could aspire to.”

  “Really?” asked Steve, his eyes shining. “(y/n). you have to tell him this. It might help him in recovering from...well, being the Winter Soldier and all.”

 Your awkwardness was long gone. As a person, you were somewhat socially...you didn’t like to say impaired but that was the only word for it. But as a professor, you were bold, intelligent, comfortable and confident.

 As you talked about history and Steve, you absently placed your hand on the table. After a few minutes, you felt Steve’s large, warm hand on it.

  Your heart went into aerobic-mode, pounding for all its worth. You lost your train of thought and you began to stammer.

 “S-so I was saying, about, what was I saying? Suffering- Nazis! I mean Nazi Germany, they weren’t really-” you broke off, blushing like mad and biting your lower lip.

 Steve removed his hand cautiously.

“(y/n), am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked. “Just tell me, I don’t want you to feel nervous or unpleasant.”

 “Oh, no!” you said all too hastily. “I’m just-” you stopped and sighed, forcing your nerves to calm the eff down.

  “I’m just a nervous person,” you said, shaking your head.

Steve nodded. “I understand,” he said, his face unreadable. “So, you were saying?”

You’d be lying if you said you were expecting a call.

  He had your number, scribbled on a napkin, but you were certain he’d never want to see you again- you were such a dork!

 And this time, he didn’t surprise you by doing the opposite of what you expected. He didn’t call.

  Not that you were hopeful, even though you kept your phone with you at all times, checking for texts and for calls you knew you hadn’t missed. Nope, you had no hopes at all.

   The day after tomorrow came with no word from Steve, and you headed to your first class feeling as if your heart might break.

  But teaching- that made you feel so much better. You threw yourself into the lecture, your voice swelled by your passion and everything else far away from your mind.

  You were so absorbed in your lecture that by the time it ended, you were too engrossed in you were too absorbed to notice a familiar figure standing by the the door.

  All your students were gone- you gathered up your stuff, thinking, and crashed into him.

  “Sorry!” you exclaimed, startled.

  Steve laughed.

  “We just keep bumping into each other,” he smiled.

  “Steve!” you said, your expression infused with delight. Delight that showed plainly, and you didn’t know it but it made Steve very happy.

  “Is it too soon to just show up at your work like this?” he asked with his head tilted to one side and a somewhat cheeky smile on his lips. “Something really important came up yesterday, and I just finished wrapping it up...you’d told me the name of the university so I decided to come along-that okay?”

  “Oh, oh, yeah!” you said. “That-that’s great, I’m really happy to see you, Steve.”

 Steve frowned slightly.

  “Are you okay?” he asked placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’re a little pale.”

  “I’m fabulous,” you said. “As in- I didn’t mean- I’m not fabulous fabulous, I’m- I’m perfectly fine.”

   Steve opened his mouth to say something, but his phone rang at the same moment.

 He changed whatever he was going to say into a quick ‘excuse me’ and picked up  his phone.

   Only, even though he had been in 21st century for a long time now, he still messed up with tech every now and then.

  Instead of simply accepting the call, he pressed speakerphone.

 “Hey, Cap, you found that dame you liked  yet?” a voice said.

“Get some, Cap!” a voice yelled in the background.

  Steve blushed and fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it.

 “Shut up, Clint!” he hissed. “You too, Tony!”

 You just stared, gaping a little.

 Steve stuffed his phone in his pocket.

“I am so sorry, that was-Tony and Clint, they’re just- I- they didn’t mean any of that- it was teasing-” It was Steve’s turn to be extremely awkward.

 You giggled.

“That’s okay,” you said shyly. “I kinda like you, too.”

Steve bit his lower lip.

  “Uh, back in my day, we used to ask first, but I guess it’s okay for me to do this?”

  With that, he leaned in.

The first sensation of his lips on yours was something you would never forget. The kiss was soft, slow, and passionate.

  Steve pulled away, looking sheepish and proud at the same time.

 “I-wow, that was amazing,” you said.

 You went on to fumble with words some more, but Steve shut you up with some searing kisses.

[katherine-rambles]

lately i’ve been learning a lotta things that.... make me wonder if i have low-key add/adhd?

evidence in the “probably” pile:

i learned recently that becoming angry at interruptions can be a symptom of focus issues, and that many add/adhd folks HATE interruptions.

guess who has literally scheduled her entire life around avoiding interruptions, since as long as i can remember???

like No Joke i would do homework in the early afternoon so my parents wouldn’t bother me whenever to do chores (because to them homework was Above interruptions, but nothing else was???) and then after they went to sleep i would read/play videogames/art/etc. all of which, had i done during the day, they would have felt ABSOLUTELY FREE to interrupt me and then get mad when i got mad at them for interrupting me and didn’t immediately drop it because i’m a stubborn asshat

from research of the above, i’ve learned about (and immediately converted to) the school of thought that “attention deficit disorder” might be inaccurate, and “attention regulation disorder” might be a better way of phrasing it. see this link for more info

from that link: “But with people with ADD, who have impaired executive functioning, the inability to self-regulate appears as laziness or lack of willpower. It clearly is not.”

i’ve always had IMMENSE trouble self-regulating. without places to be, work structures and schedules to support me? i 100% fall apart. i’m still having trouble, as a 23 yr old adult, at setting up bedtime and wakeup routines!!!

from a list of ADD symptoms, inattention: “Be easily distracted by things like trivial noises or events that are usually ignored by others.”

i can’t often stand music or tv or whatever while i work. either i just Stop Doing What I’m Doing and pay attention to the music or tv show (and thus waste a couple hours on tv shows i don’t even like) or i turn it off. 

relatedly: i cannot go to bed with the tv or music on, despite it being a regular occurance for many of my friends. (guess who stays wired up on sleepovers while other ppl fall asleep to media.... :^) )

from a list of ADD symptoms, inattention: “Be forgetful about daily activities (for example, missing appointments, forgetting to bring lunch)”

i circumvent this now by writing a bajillion lists all the time, but when i was younger... i almost failed sixth grade because i wouldn’t bring my homework to turn in. 

which is to say: i would take it home, i would DO all of the work, but i literally forgot to bring my homework to turn in, on a regular basis, for the better part of a year. 

my teachers were confused at my great grades but lack of homework, so they talked to my parents about it, and that got drilled the fuck outta me, but... yeah

also? i can’t sit anywhere but at the front of classes. if i am not at the front i cannot pay attention, due to all the shit that people get up to. i’d love to join u at the back of class my delinquent friends playing games on your phones, but i cannot or I Will Fail. 

from a list of ADD symptoms, inattention: “Have a hard time paying attention to details and a tendency to make careless mistakes. Their work might be messy and seem careless.”

there’s a job in libraries that i cannot do. it is called Shelfreading, and basically, the idea is that you read the collection numbers on the shelf (that bit on the end of the spine libraries use to keep things in order) and make sure that the books are, indeed, in order.

i begin falling asleep maybe four feet into shelfreading. i literally cannot do it when i am Any degree of tired in the first place, but even when i am at my Tippity Toppity Best i’m the absolute worst at that job. it is my least favorite part of libraries-- even including the time I had to be a part of moving a library, and i wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. 

from a list of ADD symptoms, hyperactivity: Fidget and squirm when seated.Get up frequently to walk or run around.

me. 

i can’t sit/stand still. 

from a list of ADD symptoms, hyperactivity: Always be "on the go"

when i’m not depressed, i ALWAYS need something to do. i have ‘patience’, but only if i’m doing something else in the meanwhile. 

for most of my childhood, i had drawing as a “something else”.

from a list of ADD symptoms, hyperactivity: Talk excessively

hhahhaaaahahhaha i’m so insecure about this but basically i can and often will babble on until you tell me to stop. case in point: look at how long this post is getting. i do that in speech, too

from a list of ADD symptoms, impulsivity: Impatience

fufufuuuuuuuck it me. i literally cannot play some games because of how slowly the characters walk. i will never be able to replay the older pokemon games because of this. rip me

from a list of ADD symptoms, impulsivity: Having a hard time waiting to talk or react

!!! i’ve channeled this into “interrupting folks to help them find words”!!!!!! 

from a list of ADD symptoms, impulsivity: Have a hard time waiting for their turn.

hhhhahmmmmm this might be a reason why i strongly prefer single-player sports. 

in tabletop, “waiting for my turn” doubles as “watch other people make fun things happen”. and any other time i need to wait i can usually do something else while i do so.

from a list of ADD symptoms, impulsivity: Blurt out answers before someone finishes asking them a question.

yes. but it’s kinda rare, i wonder if this is one of those semi-gendered symptoms.

but also, did you mean, “raising my hand before the professor is done with their thought”? 

from a list of ADD symptoms, impulsivity: Start conversations at inappropriate times.

hhhhaaaa i’m sure becca can attest to my inability to wait five seconds before beginnning a conversation that’s awkward while the person who reminded me of something is still around. 

something that seems like impulsivity might have a hand in:

right now, i really don’t want to be spending money. and yet??? i have like ten purchases in the past three days or so around 10 bucks a piece. for random videogames, toys, books, a tiara, a hat i found at a storage store, a couple of things i thought would make great gifts for specific folks in the future.... why tf can i not wait until i get my goddamn paycheck at the end of the week????

something else that seems like impulsivity might have a hand in:

i am a Serial Procrastinator. the only way i get things done is by procrastinating on one thing by doing something else. very few of my tasks are both Proactive and Not A Part Of Putting Off Something Else. 

from a different list of add symptoms in adults: Restlessness, Trouble Relaxing

i’ve said that i literally cannot relax. that is: actual relaxation occurs so rarely for me that i treat it more or less like a myth. 

from a different list of add symptoms in adults: Trouble Starting a Task

hey, did you know that this (in addition to being super tired) was literally what kickstarted my depression? now ya know

welp

more generally, i am a ninety-per-center. which is to say: i got a’s in school, but it wasn’t because i studied and memorized every last detail. getting 100% on anything was extremely rare for me, even though you’d think i’d have a higher chance at it with my average so high. 

i hate straight-up memorizing. i’m terrible at it. if learning only happened like that, i would be a highschool dropout. 

what i AM good at is being a magpie of knowledge. learning is legitimately a hobby for me. 

so learning MORE for me is often about contextualizing something new in terms of what i already know. 

one of my other hobbies? READING FUCKING EVERYTHIGN as a child. i read so much that my average reading-words-per-minute is 700 (w/ 100% retention-- that’s an easy reading pace for me), but i can jack it up to 1k with 80% retention. theoretically, if i could keep that up, the internet tells me i could read the entire bible in 24 hours at that rate.

my good grades also gave me a positive feedback loop: having good grades meant that teachers didn’t care if you doodled during class, and doodling during class is apparently a huge coping mechanism for ADHD/ADD.

uh. 

so. 

in researching and writing all this out.... i’ve basically convinced myself that i probably have some degree of add/adhd, but i had really good coping mechanisms that developed early. 

when some of the things i’d relied upon began falling apart, i spiralled into Depression because executive functioning is hard

oh my god now i’m taking a test and.... SHIT IT ME http://totallyadd.com/adhd-quiz-start/

ESPECIALLY 

My home or workspace is cluttered, piles everywhere.  Things have to be out where I can see them, otherwise I worry that I’ll forget about them.

When I am alone I talk out loud to myself to stay on track.  I have sticky-notes everywhere.  I’ve bought things and then realized I already owned one.

You probably don’t bounce around like a hyperactive child, but perhaps you often feel restless.  Driven.  Like there’s a dynamo inside you. Maybe you’re impatient.  On the go.  Thoughts race, sometimes tumbling, ricocheting as you pour out one idea after another.

I walk faster than others and have to wait for them.  I like to be in action, on the move.

this only applies in crowds; in other situations i’m small and can’t keep up the same with folks. But in crowds if I’m not moving forward i want to tear my hair out

I find myself stirring things up. Teasing. 

auuugh i’ve been trying so hard to stop this one because it’s often really rude and invasive but I HAVE SO MUCH TROUBLE STOPPING MYSELF

I’m drawn to one hobby or obsession after another. 

did you mean “project”? did you mean “life consuming goal projects that take ~80 hours during a month when i’m also in school full time and work part time??” 

I have more stamina and enthusiasm than anyone else if it’s something I find interesting.  I dive in whole hog, like a whirling dervish, with tons of energy.  But then suddenly crash. 

I always have lots to say, but I’m not so great at listening.  I can be an enthusiastic chatterbox who just can’t stop. If someone else tries to speak I get louder because I feel pressure to get it out. 

I am full of ideas – my mind jumps and races ahead.  I don’t sit quietly and consider, but immediately offer one idea or opinion after another. 

I may seem impatient or dominating, always adding my two cents, having to contribute my ideas… and I have lots of them. 

I’m instantly enthusiastic and interested in new challenges.  I say yes to everything, then end up overwhelmed with commitments.

HOLY FUCK

HOLY FUCKITY FUCK

I SCORED AN 18/18 ON A SCALE THAT’S MEANT TO BE 10/18 “YOU SHOULD MAYBE CHECK WITH YOUR DOCTOR”

you mean to say, i have been dealing with this all on my own, for TWENTY GODDAMNED YEARS, AND PEOPLE DIDN”T NOTICE OR CARE JUST BECAUSE I GOT A’S IN CLASS

i may be, more than a little pissed at this. hguhgugh