#we're up and running with just consume things that you enjoy and care about !!!

[blamemma]

Yea, dirlies have learnt their lesson, but unfortunately y***/l*** fans have not and they are still flooding daniel's tag 😔

yeah but not to like be like i'm better than everyone else. but i just dont care. i dont follow yuki and liam fans because i'm not fans of them. i dont care for their opinions on daniel. i also definitely dont look in the daniel tag that is a fucking war zone out there. i care about the daniel besties and all that's going on there so as long as we're all calm cool and collected and having a jolly ol' time, i simply just do not care what's going on on other areas of this webbed site. that's for them to all fawn and make up fake gossip about. they'll get proven wrong eventually 😌

[fallingdownhell]

I absolutely love your works!

Can you make hurt/comfort with kazuha, albedo, alhaitham, cyno?

Where we're on a heated arguments about them too focusing on their job and completely forgot about reader

In the middle of the argument, the reader said

"Was i really nothing to you? Was i just some kind of object that you can just forget that easily?"

Thank you

Thank you so much!<3

And of course I can! I am always down to write some pretty, delicious angst!

Characters Included: Albedo; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kazuha

Content: Gender neutral reader; pre sumeru archon quest for Cyno's part; hurt/comfort; arguments; shouting; slight cursing;

Word count: 6k words

Thanks so much for the request. Hope you enjoy the end result!<3

Albedo

It was rare for Albedo to come down from his lab all the way up in Dragonspine to the City of Mondstadt. You never really minded it, knowing that you could go there to see him at any time, while he also paid regular visits to your home.

Yet, for some time now.. those visits have stopped. He never came by anymore, far too consumed on some discovery he apparently made a few weeks ago.

Even when you travelled all the way to his laboratory on the mountain, in the icy colds of Dragonspine, Albedo had given you no attention whatsoever.

He had acknowledged your arrival, then went back to his work, while you were sitting in some corner by the fire, trying to warm up again. Even your attempts at conversation were flat out ignored, seeing as he never bothered to give an answer. You weren't even sure if he had noticed your departure a few hours after you had initially arrived.

You tried again two more times, but as you got the same result every time, you eventually stopped trying and didn't go back to Dragonspine.

Then, two weeks ago, you heard that Albedo was back in the city for a supply run.

Hoping that you would run into him to finally talk to him you spend your day in Mondstadt, but you never laid eyes upon him. When you asked Sucrose about it, she told you that he had already left again.

You went home to see if he made a trip there and you just so happened to miss him. But upon your return, you didn't find any note from him or any other indication that he had ever been here in the first place.

The same thing happened again a week after that, and by now you finally had enough. You went to the Acting Grand Master and she told you that Albedo would be back today again, to drop of some reports.

Which is why you were waiting for him outside of the Knights of Favonius headquarters, though still in some respectable distance.

When you finally saw him again after a few weeks, it felt like you haven't seen him for a lifetime.

So, without hesitation, you made your way over to him before he could enter the building. Yet, he seemed to be so deep into his own head that Albedo didn't even notice your approach.

Only when you were directly behind him and firmly said "Albedo.", did he stop and turn around, looking at you.

You could see the expression in his eyes once his gaze landed on you, like he had a sudden realization that you still existed and he had forgotten about that until that very moment. It honestly hurt.

"Hey. Where have you been all this time? I missed you..", you said, hoping to get some kind of positive reaction out of him.

"You know where I was, (name). I was busy.", he said and then turned around to leave again. You were honestly astounded that he simply wanted to let things stand as they are. Well, not today and most definitely not with you.

"You wanna leave? Just like that? Seriously?"

That seemed to have at least some kind of effect on him, as he stopped once again and turned in your direction. Except for this time, he wore an annoyed expression.

"What else do you want from me? I said that I'm busy."

After that, an argument broke out between the two of you in the middle of the street, but neither of you cared. No matter how much attention you drew upon you, it was too late now. You were both to heated and too caught up in it to stop now.

Things were said in the heat of the argument, you were sure both of you regretted ever saying out loud, yet neither of you could care less right now. Everything seemed to be fair game at this point.

Until Albedo said one specific thing.

"Archons, you're impossible sometimes, (name). Insufferable. I've better things to do right now, you know!"

Immediatly after he said that, Albedo knew he had crossed a line. The way you went silent, no comeback falling from your lips. You were just staring at him in shock, like you couldn't believe that he had just actually said that. He wanted to retract his statement, but his pride prevented him from doing so.

So, instead, you both just stood there for some time, silently staring at one another. When no reply came from you, Albedo dropped his head, then turned around once again. But before he could take a step, he heard your voice again, though this time, it sounded broken, silent sobs being held back.

"So, that's it? Was I nothing to you?", you whispered, your voice slowly starting to break from the tears forming within you, but Albedo was still able to hear you. "Just some kind of experiment or plaything that you can toss aside and simply forget about? Do I mean nothing to you?"

Upon hearing how broken you sounded, and what you actually said to him, he instantly turned around again, the sight of tears rolling down your face feeling like a knive had been thrust straight into his heart. And what's worst was that he was the cause for your tears.

You stood there, waiting for an answer from him. Yet, when nothing seemed to come out off his opening and closing mouth, you just nodded at him.

"I see..", you said, your voice now entirely void of any emotion whatsoever. That, and the fact that you were the one now turning around to leave him like that, was the twist of the imaginary knive in his chest.

Finally being able to break free of his frozen state, he rushed towards you, stopping you in your tracks as he pulled you into his chest, caging your arms around you, burying his face against your shoulder.

"I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.. I'm sorry..", he whispered over and over into your ear, which only made the tears fall from your eyes even harder. You were shaking against him, struggling to breath. You wanted to break free from him, but at the same time, you never wanted to leave his embrace again.

"I'm so sorry, (name). You're wrong. You mean everything to me. I'm sorry I made you feel like that wasn't the case. And I apologize for the horrible things I said to you."

You stood there for a few more seconds, basking in his arms, then decided to slip free. Albedo let you, almost certain that you would be walking away from him now.

But you didn't.

Instead, you turned around to look at him, allowing him to see your tear stained face that he was the cause of.

"I think... we have a lot to talk about..", you mumbled, not being able to look him in the eyes entirely. But Albedo still saw it as what it was supposed to be.

A chance. A second chance to talk things out with you, make it better between you two.

And he gladly took that chance.

From now on, he would do anything to put a smile on your face every day, never wanting to be the cause for your tears ever again.

Cyno

Two months.

That was how long it has been since you had your boyfriend to yourself for more than a few hours.

Every day, he came back from his work much more later than he usually would, sometimes even not coming home for days on end. He didn't even leave a note or something to inform you of his absence, making you even more worried about him.

And now, even when he was at home with you, he was so cold and distant towards you. Sometimes, he went straight to take a shower and then to bed, not even sparing you a second. Other times, he did spend time with you, but you could tell that his mind was somewhere else, giving only short answers to your questions and statements.

Seeing all this, you couldn't help the doubt starting to well up inside you.

Did he fall out of love with you?

Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you?

Was he... cheating on you?

You didn't want to think any of these possibilities true, but it was hard to ignore them when Cyno was behaving like this.

You tried to talk to him about this, how you felt, a few times, but he never really listened to you, keeping the conversation short so you couldn't bring your point across.

And now, you began to not only doubt him and the relationship as a whole, you doubted everything.

Did he ever even love you?

Was he only doing this out of convenience?

Were you just.. something expandable to him?

All of these questions and doubts plagued your mind day in and day out, not being able to find any answers to them whatsoever. The only one being able to give you the answers you so desperately wanted and needed, refused to give them to you.

It was driving you insane.

And now, you hit your breaking point. You weren't able to take it anymore. The constant doubt had turned itself into a depressive episode. You wanted to break free from it, but you also wanted to give Cyno one final chance. One chance to explain himself to you, to tell you the truth.

If he refused again, you would not hesitate to leave. Your mind was made up, everything was arranged. You had a small bag prepared, filled with clothing and other stuff you needed.

Tighnari had offered you to stay for a few days at Gandharva Ville where you could sort yourself out if you were not able to talk things through with Cyno. You were so grateful to him, though a small part in you still hoped that it wouldn't come down to this.

That evening, you waited and waited for Cyno to return home from work, but with every passing hour that he didn't show up, you lost more and more hope that he would come home at all today.

You sighed and were about to get up from your spot in the living room to go to bed, when the sound of the front door opening caught your attention. After all, it could only be one person that has the other key to the apartement.

"Welcome back!", you greeted him as you went out to the hallway, seeing your boyfriend standing there. He looked at you with a tired expression but didn't say anything in return.

Instead, he walked right past you, not sparing you another glance. You were baffled, to say the least. That blatant ignorance from him was what gave you the last push you had needed.

"Seriously?", you just said, turning around to face him again, this time though, wearing a stone cold expression.

"(Name), please. Not right now. I'm tired in case you didn't notice."

"Oh, I did notice. But I don't care anymore, Cyno. We have to talk."

"Please, (name). We can talk tomorrow, okay? I just want to go to bed now, not argue about something trivial."

Oh, he really dealt the final blow with that one.

"So, that's it? Do I even mean nothing to you? Was I just some kind of object you can forget about? Does this relationship even mean anything to you anymore?", you threw all of that towards him, not caring that you got more and more worked up with every word you said.

When you were met with nothing but silence from him, you took that as his answer to your questions.

"Okay..", was all you said, turning around and grabbing your packed bag before you went out the door, not even sparing Cyno one last glance. You just wanted to get out of there.

Cyno just stood there for a few minutes, still looking at the spot were you were standing before. Only now did the events catch up to his tired mind, yet he still didn't move.

He saw the defeated look on your face, the way your shoulders slumped at his dismissiveness, but he shrugged it off. Instead of running after you and trying to mend this misunderstanding, he went to the bathroom, took a shower and then made himself comfortable in the bed.

He was sure you would have returned by tomorrow and then you could talk about it.

....

Two days.

Two days have gone by and you still hadn't returned home. By this point, Cyno was beyond worried about you. After all, it was dark when you went out and he hasn't heard from you since then and no one in the city seemed to have seen you, either.

Thinking back to your last words towards him made him want to beat his past self up for not sitting down and talking to you then and there. For not running after you and bringing you back. Back to him where you belonged to.

He knew that he was neglecting you these past two months. It's not like he wanted to do so. Work has been increasing for him, the sages at the Academiya were up to something, and not of the good kind.

It put a lot of pressure on him, yet at the same time, he had to try and keep a low profile, for his sake as well as yours. But in doing so, he didn't even notice how much he had distanced himself from you. He really wanted to punch himself in the face for that, but it's not like that would bring you back to him, so he refrained from it.

He had been searching for you almost the entire day when you hadn't returned yet again. But his search seemed to not be granted success today either.

Not knowing what else to do, he decided to head over to Gandharva Ville. Maybe Tighnari would be willing to listen to him and maybe have a suggestion on how he could find you and apologize to you.

Once he arrived, he immediately made his way over to his friends hut, not caring for all the looks other people gave him. He was used to it at this point anyways.

As expected, he found Tighnari sitting at his table, scrunched over some research report. Upon his entry, his ear twitched and he looked at his friend. Cyno did find it odd however, that his friend looked at him with such a surprised expression. After all, it wasn't unusual for him to arrive unannounced.

"Cyno? What are you doing here?"

"What, can't visit a friend anymore?", he said jokingly, though it didn't sound convincing at all, judging by the look on Tighnari's face.

"You're right..", Cyno sighed instead, grabbing an empty chair and sitting beside his friend. "I need your help. It's about (name).."

"Oh, that situation? Yeah, I've heard about it from them already."

"You did? From who? And when?", Cyno asked, suddenly gaining new hope. If you were here, he might still have a chance at finding you.

"From them. I offered them a place to stay for a few days. Though after everything they told me, I didn't think you would actually search for them."

So you were here... and his best friend knew about the situation and was severly judging him. Cyno knew he deserved it, but he still wanted to try and make things right again.

"Tighnari, please tell me where they are. I need to talk to them. Please."

Tighnari looked at him long and hard, most likely trying to assess his intentions.

With a sigh, he then turned back around, focusing his attention back to his research. "I gave them the open cottage on the other side of the village. They should be in there, seeing as they haven't left it since they arrived here."

"Thanks.", Cyno mumbled, scrambling to get up from the chair to rush to where you are. He was almost out the door, when Tighnari's voice caught his attention again, calling his name.

Cyno turned around, facing his friend again. "Don't fuck it up again.", he advised, to which Cyno nodded his head. He wouldn't, he would make sure of that.

When he arrived at your temporary residence, he immediately went to knock on the door. He waited outside for a few seconds, but no reply.

So he knocked again, more urgent this time.

Still no reply.

"(Name)!", he exclaimed this time, knocking on your door again, but still to no avail.

Getting desperate, he decided to just try and see if the door was unlocked or not.

It was. The door slid open soundlessly, inviting him inside. Carefully, he walked inside, letting his eyes take in the interior. Since the door and most of the windows have been shut, it was almost dark in here, and to top it off, he didn't hear a sound.

He was almost panicing again, thinking that you might have actually left this place, until his eyes fell on the bed, and on it, he saw your sleeping figure.

Relief flooded over him, finally being able to see you again and to actually have the knowledge that you were safe and sound.

He then walked closer to you, only to take in your state. You may have looked peaceful sleeping like this, but your eyes were red and swollen, telling him that you had cried before falling asleep. And he knew that the reason for your sadness had been him.

The need to punch himself rose again, for making you feel this way when he had promised to do everything in his power to never do that.

Instead, he decided to crouch down on the floor, next to the bed, gently taking your hand into his, placing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

He would wait here until you woke up again, no matter how many hours from now that would be. He would wait for you and ask you to please consider talking to him.

He wanted to properly explain himself and apologize to you. Whatever you decided on doing afterwards, he would comply by it. If you wanted to break up with him, he would understand that. If you decided to give him a second chance, he would thank you on his hands and knees.

But that decision would be yours to make and he was prepared to accept whatever would be thrown his way. But for now, he was content with simply holding your hand, quietly enjoying your presence which he had missed so much...

Alhaitham

The Scribe of the Academiya has been getting more and more busy these days. Well, for now, it's best to say "former" Scribe, since he has been temporarely promoted to Acting Grand Sage.

You knew that your boyfriend had absolutely zero intention of keeping that position, even if he was more than befitting for it, seeing how knowledgeable he was.

But he much rather prefered a simple life, and you couldn't argue with that logic. Who wouldn't like that, especially when pay and work hours weren't really affected either way.

Still, for now, both you and him had to live with the changed circumstances, even though neither of you were happy with them.

Alhaitham was working even more now, trying to sort out certain matters until a new Grand Sage has been chosen. You haven't really seen or talked to him in days, yet you brushed it off, telling yourself that it would change again once he got his old position back again.

Sure, he may have cancelled a few dates and had to call off a get together with your parents, but that was perfectly understandable.

You continued to give yourself excuse after excuse, hoping that soon enough, things would get back to the way they were before all of this had happened.

Couldn't take too long...right?

...

Three hours..

You had waited for him, at Puspa Café, where you were supposed to meet for your first ever date in ages again.

And he didn't show up... Again.

You wanted to give Alhaitham the benefit of the doubt, but it was getting increasingly more difficult for you.

When you got to the home you shared with him, you were greeted by an eerie silence, telling you, that he wasn't even home to begin with.

Probably still at the Academiya, working.

You sigh, adding yet another dissapointment to the list, as you went into the bathroom to get changed into more comfortable clothes. To think that you dressed up for the occaison, only to experience heartbreak again.

It's really starting to get difficult for you to forgive him for all this stuff.

....

Yet another date cancelled by him, thanks to not showing up... Again..

But this time, he didn't even come home in the evening.

It had you worried about him beyond anything, not knowing what was going on since he always came back.

You didn't sleep that night at all, only for him to angrily walk through the front door at three in the morning, mumbling something about the incompetence of the people he was forced to work with.

He only spared a glance in your direction before he went straight into the bedroom. By the time you got in there as well, he was already fast asleep in the bed. And when you woke up in the morning, he was already gone, not even leaving you with a note or anything like he usually would.

Somehow, this was your last straw.

You endured the exact same scenario so many times before. Yet, somehow, this time was just one too many times.

Next time, you promised yourself, next time you see him, you would talk to him about it, no matter if he wanted or not. Because if you didn't then there was no reason in your eyes to continue this dying relationship.

....

Turns out, the next time you would see him would once again be in the dead of the night, thanks to Alhaitham not coming home again any earlier.

When he walked through the door, he was surprised to see you still awake. Normally, you would already be asleep and he would just silently slip under the covers next to you, enjoying what little he was able to get from being close to you again gave him, before he was also knocked out cold.

But with you standing there in front of him, expression cold and hard, he knew something was up with you. And yet, he just didn't have the energy to deal with that right now. He just wanted to sleep.

"We need to talk, Alhaitham."

No greeting, no nicknames, no nothing. You were definitely upset, yet he still tried to get out off talking right now.

"Can we do this tomorrow, (name)? I'm tired."

"You mean like all the other times you promised me something and then stood me up? No, I think not. We talk about this now."

Oh, so that's what got you so upset?

"Look, I told you I would be busy for some time until things at the Academiya get sorted out. You can't tell me you didn't know about this.", he tried to reason with you, but it only seemed to upset you even more.

"You did say that.. but it's been weeks since I've last actually talked to you. It feels more like I'm your housekeeper right now, not your partner."

"This is absurd. Now you're just thinking too much into things, (name)."

After that statement, an argument broke out between you two, right here in the hallway where you "greeted" Alhaitham. You weren't full on shouting at each other, but you were talking pretty loudly. If people were to walk by outside, they could probably hear every word you guys were throwing at each other.

But neither of you cared right now.

At some point, Alhaitham walked past you, into the living room, trying to escape the argument. But you insisted on continuing it, following him into the room and at this point, he was getting fed up with the situation.

"Archons, (name)! Can you just shut up and leave me be? I don't have time for trivial things right now!"

Immediately after he said that, you went silent and his words caught up with him as well.

He looked at you, saw how tears started to form in your eyes and instantly regretted ever letting those words fall out of his mouth. Nothing was more important than you in his eyes, and yet, he still said that to you. Like you didn't mean the world to him, which you did.

"(Name)-!"

"So, what? Was i really nothing to you? Was i just some kind of object that you can just forget about that easily? To toss aside when you don't want it anymore?"

You hated how your voice cracked halfway through, how tears started to escape your eyes. And despite how much his words had hurt you, you still didn't want to run from the situation. You had to see it through.

"If that is how you truly feel about me, maybe we should end-!"

Before you were able to end your sentence, you were suddenly pushed against a strong chest, warm arms keeping you in an embrace you had longed so much for, yet right now, it wasn't comforting at all.

"Let go off me..", you stated weakly, giving no indication that you planned to reciprocate his sign of affection.

"Never..", he whispered, and with the way he sounded right now, you could almost think that he was starting to cry as well. Almost..

"I'm so sorry, (name). I truly didn't mean to say that. Please, you have to believe me, I don't mean it. You are not trivial to me, nor is our relationship.

I.. I love you. I truly do. Though I don't openly say it that often, that doesn't mean my words hold any less truth in them. You have to believe me."

"I want to... I really want to believe you, Alhaitham. But with the way things are and have been for those weeks... I don't think I can.."

By now, the tears are streaming freely from your face and you weakly put your hands against his chest, needing some kind of stability.

"Then let me prove it to you. Let me prove to you that I still love you like the first day, that I never stopped loving you, even if my words and actions made you think otherwise."

You were silent after that for some time, thinking it over. You had no idea what the best course of action for you would be, but in the end, you decided to go with what your heart was telling you. Wether or not you would regret that decision, you had to find that out in the future.

"...One more chance. You better don't fuck up again or I'm leaving for good.", you mumbled against his chest, his shirt already stained with your tears, but neither you nor Alhaitham cared about that in the slightest.

All he could focus on, was you in his arms and the fact you granted him with another chance. And he intended to use it the best he could.

Kazuha

Between travelling around the different nations and helping out Beidou on board of the Alchor from time to time, Kazuha never really had much time.

You love Kazuha. You really do...

But sometimes, you just can't help but wonder if you even have a relationship with him at this point.

When he's gone again, for weeks or sometimes even months on end, and the only form of communication with him stems from a few letters sprinkled in between here and there, how could you not doubt?

In the beginning, you used to travel around with him. And while you enjoyed the time spent with your boyfriend, getting to see all those different places and creating wonderful memories with him, you eventually grew tired of it.

That's not to say that you didn't enjoy wandering around the nations with Kazuha by your side, but you just couldn't imagine spending your entire life like this. Never being provided with a place of your own, to call your home, constantly on the go.

It just wasn't your way of living.

Kazuha understood that and would never force you to accompany him, just like you would never force him to stay with you, even when sometimes the loneliness just got more to you than on other days.

He always came back to you, but he never stayed for more than a few days before he was out the door again, not to be seen for an unknown amount of time.

It was difficult, living like this. You tried to live off the memories and happy moments you had with him when he was here with you, but it wasn't enough anymore. You wanted him by your side again, but you also knew that he would suffer in the long run if you were to ask him to stay here with you.

However, in your mind, it also wasn't an option to just leave thing unmentioned.

Which is why you made the desicion, that the next time he would come home to you, you needed to talk to him about your thoughts and feelings, in hopes you could come to a solution together.

.....

Turns out, the next time he's home again would be three months later. And like always, only letters could have been exchanged throughout this entire time.

Kazuha already had a sneaking suspicion that something wasn't right with you. He couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but the way you were writing in these letters sounded off from your usual way, which is also why he tried to make it back to you as soon as he could. He felt bad that it still took him this long, but there was nothing he could have done about it.

The city he resided in when he got that particular letter from you underwent a strict lockdown only hours later, due to a prisoner escaping. The entire city had been shut down to find him as quickly as possible, all forms of communication had also been cut short.

It took them three weeks to apprehend the convict again, and as soon as the city doors opened again, Kazuha was out of them and on his way back to you.

...

When Kazuha arrived back at the little cottage the two of you shared, it was in the late afternoon.

Already, when he opened the door, he was absolutely certain now that something was wrong. Usually, you would come running to greet him at the first noise or hint that he had come back.

But now? Nothing.

"(Name)? I'm back!", he yelled, in hopes of getting your attention this way, but still, no reaction. Maybe you were out buying groceries or something?

Still, Kazuha decided to wander through the different rooms, just to make sure he wouldn't miss anything. And now, he's glad that he did as he saw you sitting on the patio, wrapped up in a comfortable blanket.

As he approached you, he noticed that you must be deep in your thoughts, just staring ahead of you. He gently opened the door and when that also didn't seem to catch your attention, he decided to speak up.

"Darling?", he asked, cautiously, not wanting to spook you.

You flinched a little at the unexpected sound coming from behind you, but just as quickly, you relaxed again, realizing who that voice belonged to.

"Kazuha. You're back.", you stated, grazing him with a small smile as you turned around to look at him, but nothing more. Normally, you would jump up into his arms, almost taking his breath away.

But Kazuha didn't say anything about it, instead, he grabbed one of the other chairs and sat right beside you. He gently took one of your hands into his, holding it like that. He missed this, missed this physical contact with you.

"Please.. Tell me what's been bothering you, darling."

"....was I that obvious?", you asked, causing a small smile to appear on Kazuha's lips. But he didn't answer, instead waited for you to continue on.

You sighed, fixing your gaze away from him and ahead of you again, thinking about how to best approach this. It was silent for a few minutes until you spoke up again.

"It's just... You're always gone for so long that I-!"

Before you could actually finish your sentence, Kazuha began to groan beside you, making you look at him in confusion.

"(Name).. you know that I don't like being bound to one place."

"I know that, but-!"

"No but's! You knew what you were involving yourself in by being with me. Why are we even having this conversation now?"

You were shocked, not expecting Kazuha to immediately get so defensive about this. All you wanted was to talk to him and maybe propose an idea you had got when he was away. But the way he was acting right now made you feel bitter.

"Can you just listen to me? I'm not trying to confine you, I just-!"

"Yes, you are, (name). What else could you possibly want to achieve by beginning the conversation like that?"

Fed up from being interrupted by him a third time now, you've had enough. An argument started to ensue, when you didn't even intend for this to happen.

You've never experienced something like this with Kazuha, he was always level-headed, calm and collected. So why was he suddenly getting so defensive over this topic. It really wasn't like you were trying to hold him here.

But, with each thing said, both you and him grew more and more heated, the shouting starting to get louder and louder, until Kazuha suddenly stood up.

"If I knew you would get like that, maybe I shouldn't have returned at all."

As you heard him say that, you instantly went silent, looking at him with your eyes wide open.

No.. he couldn't mean that, right?

It also now seemed to catch up to Kazuha what he just said, as he also turned to look at you, shock written all over his face.

"(Name), I...", he began to stay, but trailed off, not knowing what he even wanted to say in the first place. He knew he had fucked up with that statement.

"So, that's it? I wasn't anything to you? Just something you can toy with when you get bored, only to be thrown away when you don't want me anymore?"

A single tear escaped you, running down your cheek and Kazuha immediately had the instinct to wipe it away from your beautiful face, to pull you into his arms and tell you how sorry he was.

So he did just that, pulling you into him, holding your face against his chest as he held your head secure with his hand, your tears now starting to come out freely.

"I'm so sorry, darling. I didn't mean to say such horrible things. No words can express how much I regret ever letting them out of my mouth."

You weren't able to answer him, your breathing being erratic, trying to choke down your sobs and crys. It positively broke Kazuha's heart that he was the immediate cause for this.

He just let you cry in his arms until you calmed down again, all the while he kept apologizing to you over and over, telling you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him.

The two of you would have to continue this conversation, but not today. Not when both of you were this wound up from everything that had happened.

The talking could be done tomorrow. Now was the time for healing...

[theplottdump]

Any tips for making a legacy, for lack of a better term, weirder? I've worked pretty much every occult possible into the family tree but I feel like I get too focused on just maintaining needs and normal daily family life for them, especially since I prefer to keep everyone more or less happy (i.e. no tragic early deaths). The most exciting things I've really done are turn one sim into a Global Superstar and marry off another one to the Grim Reaper, and sometimes I pause aging for a bit to spend more time on certain plots. Your legacy is obviously pretty wild so I wondered how you go about coming up with ideas like Michael Bublé Christmas Getaways and Charlie's Angels Spy Squads haha

This is a great question!! Let me see if I can dig up a good enough answer for it 😂

And I'll include pictures to break up the massive wall of text.

The reason Gens 1-3 are barely mentioned on here is because in reality there wasn't really anything interesting that happened in them. I wanted to hide away from the stress of a worldwide pandemic and watch my sims garden for a while. No real rules, just something to relax.

Gen 4 was a slight departure since I was getting a little tired of my sims doing the same thing over and over, and I decided to do the opposite and move them to a penthouse in the city as a refreshing change.

And as I started playing with more gameplay mods that added extra moodlets- the chance of hysterical death rose exponentially. My Gen 4 heir died when my Gen 5 heir, Hinoki was just a kid. So I decided to keep him around as a ghost while my Gen 3 heir worked on grinding out the ingredients for Ambrosia and Reed (Gen 4) continued to follow his political aspirations to become the first Ghost President of Simerica.

And this is where we find the nexus point of weird. And here's the biggest (not so secret) secret to it. The beginning of Gen 5 is when I started actually sharing my gameplay.

Not publicly, but with a small group of friends and simmers on a discord, like I've mentioned before here. Suddenly I wasn't just playing for myself, I was very slowly starting to play to make my friends laugh- to see how they reacted whenever I would leave little updates. And I found I really enjoyed that!

I started contriving little scenarios- what if Hinoki slept with her husband's band mate and had a secret child. And then someone would pop in and say she might have to run away for a while to Tartosa to have a baby. This independent toddler trait gives baby Val such a stink face- oh you should put him in a tiny leopard print robe to match. And it became this back and forth of - you know what would be funny?

I was started going off the rule from my friend @anotherplumbob that my first born would be the heir, so i had the fun task of figuring out how to get from point A to point B with Valerian, and what the hell point B even looked like.

We knew he was evil- he killed his dad as a toddler, and was just a full creep through his entire childhood- and so I started asking, what story do I want to tell my friends? I love romcoms, I love spy movies- what would be fun for me?

We're all influenced by our environments, the art, media, and music we consume, and that's all directly reflected into what we decide to put back out into the world.

And through exploring those characters, through playing the game, through my friends throwing the weirdest suggestions at me - what if he made a robot copy of his childhood Nanny? Okay, what mods can I use to reflect that in my gameplay? - What if he 3D printed a baby? - What if the Volcano gave them another baby? (this one is never happening shooby) - The whole thing spiraled out of control 😂

SO TDLR- How can you make your legacy weirder?

Find a community or even a couple trusted friends to bounce ideas off of. The amount of time I've spent conniving and scheming with @doctorsimcraft should honestly be studied. Write for yourself and like the 4 people you care most about. Enthusiasm is infectious. Find some good gameplay mods to add color to your gameplay- More Personality Please is an absolute game changer. Wicked Whims and Lumpinou's RPO are also fantastic additions if that's your style. Hopefully the game throws you some fun curveballs. Adversity and conflict breed interesting story - or something like that. Think about the types of stories that you would be excited to tell- really lean into your favorite tropes and themes. It's not a checklist, it's just like - I really love campy spies, I really love enemies to lovers - what do I do in game to make this happen. Find your story and let drive your gameplay- not the other way around. Or find a good balance and see what happens.

And to be honest I've very much lost that balance and fallen into a total rut of letting the story overtake the gameplay. So whenever I get too overwhelmed by my stupid large ambitions I just sit down and play and see where the game takes me.

I hope I can get back to not posing every single scene out for Gen 7 but I also love making poses, and breaking my game in every way to be able to tell the stories I want to!

It's why I'm so comically slow now. But I guess that just means we get to spend more time getting to know our characters, which I do genuinely enjoy.

I don't know if that was helpful or incredibly unhelpful- but it's what I got. Good luck! And above all have fun- in whatever shape that may take. (Hopefully it's a weird one)

xo, Anne

[claudemblems]

One of my friends asked me to write for this prompt from the list I posted, and one of you requested Sherlock for it, so here you go. Enjoy the angst 🥹

Sherlock Holmes - Moriarty the Patriot

Prompt 18: hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time

Why didn’t he kill Jefferson Hope when he had the chance?

It was a horrible thing for a detective to consider, especially one that was determined to save as many innocent people as he could, but if he’d taken the offer presented to him, would things have turned out different? Would he have had the Lord of Crime bound and shackled, harbored in a prison cell for the rest of his life? Would the people no longer live in fear of seeing yet another murder on plastered on the news' front pages? If he'd taken the offer by killing Hope, Sherlock would have had all the information he needed to find the mastermind. The hard part would be proving his guilt.

But if he’d pulled that trigger, he would have not only learned the true identity of the Lord of Crime, but he would have put an end to Hope's suffering. He’d practically begged Sherlock to take his life, but, out of kindness or conscience, he couldn’t.

Honestly, how pathetic of a detective did he have to be to second guess not killing a man in cold blood.

“...Sherlock? Sherlock?”

The sound of your voice rang in Sherlock's ears, gradually dragging him out of his thoughts and back into the sitting room he rested in, his body splayed out across the couch.

“Are you all right?”

No would have been his first answer had he not cared about worrying you. With all this baggage weighing on his shoulders, he was almost tempted to let himself crumble underneath it.

“I’m fine,” he answered, finally sitting upright. The room still smelled of smoke from the cigarette he’d had earlier. However, when he looked down at the ashtray, it appeared he’d ended up having several more than that.

“For a detective, you’re a terrible liar. I hope you know that.”

Sherlock sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, dear.”

“I’m not joking around. I’m worried about you!”

Well, there went his efforts to not make you worry.

"I...I'm just thinking about a case, is all."

"It's the one where you were offered the name of the Lord of Crime, isn't it?"

Somehow you always knew exactly what had been troubling him.

"I just keep thinking about it. Every time I close my eyes, I imagine what it would have been like if I'd pulled the trigger. Would it have been a good thing to put that man out of his misery? Would I have caught the mastermind by now? Would London have been freed from his reign of terror...or am I just a foolish man who's no different than he is?"

Sherlock buried his head in his arms, fighting back the frustration that wanted to burst out of him. What should he do? What was the right thing to do? For once in his career, Sherlock had no evidence, no confidence, and not a clue of what to do next.

But in all this gloom surrounding him, your ray of light encapsulated him, determined to drive out the darkness in his mind.

"Even for a famous detective, it's okay to not know the answer," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his head next to your heart, its slow and steady beat a soothing lullaby. "You're human, and no human can be perfect. We're bound to be ignorant, to mess up, to get lost along the way...but that's to be expected. All we can do is rely on our morals and ambitions to keep us going. If we can't do that, what else will we have left?"

"...Do you think ill of me because I questioned if I should have killed that man?"

"No, I don't," you answered without hesitation, "because I know you never would. Truly, Sherlock, if you found yourself pulling the trigger, it wouldn't have been to learn the Lord of Crime's name but to save that man, Jefferson Hope, from the misery that consumed him. Your heart went out to him, didn't it?" Gently, you stroked Sherlock's hair, watching as the stress from the past few days slowly began to leave his face. "He killed the monster who had kidnapped his wife and put her through so much suffering. But even with him dead, Mr. Hope can never forget what was done to his beloved wife. The thought eats him alive day by day, and you understood that. Who wouldn't have compassion on a man that wanted a peaceful life for the woman he loved, only to have it ripped away from her?"

Sherlock clutched the edge of your shirt, and though he made no sound, you knew that he'd begun to cry.

"You're no monster, Sherlock. You're a man that wants to save all of London, but you can't. You can't save anyone. You know that, yet you still try."

"If I don't try...then who will?"

Tears fell down Sherlock's cheeks and onto your shirt like light summer rain, and you held him in the warmth of your arms, intent on sheltering his broken heart until the storm had passed.

"One day, love, you'll find the answers you're looking for. For now, take a deep breath, and you can think through all of this when your mind has cleared."

Sherlock cried for a long time, and your hold on him never once faltered. There, in your embrace, you knew he felt safe, and though no words were spoken, being in your presence was all he needed. Eventually your sunshine chased away the clouds, and Sherlock found himself ready to go searching for answers once more.

London needed him. He would not fail.

[willowfolksong]

lavender haze

Manjiro Sano "Mikey" x Reader

The interviewer has a nice smile and perfect manicured nails. You greet her with a hand shake that lasts long enough for a picture, and settle beside her with both of your arms behind your back.

"I know that you must get this everytime you give an interview" she tells you, and you were too distracted watching as they set up the cameras to notice that she has moved a step closer to you "But I'm just such a huge fan"

"Oh" you smile, because yes you've heard that a lot, but it never ceases to make you happy. You wish the joy of finding out people enjoy your music never leaves, or fades and turns into numbness at the face of everyone's admiration "Thank you so much!"

"I actually begged for them to let me do your interview before the ceremony"

You bring a hand to your chest and pout, and the interviewer giggles as a little girl and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

"That's so sweet of you, really"

"Whenever you're ready, we're recording now!" the guy behind the camera says, and you take a quick last look at your publicist to signal that you're okay, and then smile.

"So we're back and we're back in style!" the interviewer says, and her high pitched voice is miles away from her shy whispering just a few moments ago. "I have here with me none other than the literal star of the moment" when she turns to you, she does it with a dashing smile and a spark in her eyes "I'm so glad to have you here with me, I'm such a huge fan"

"Thank you so much!" you say again, and she nods excitedly.

"But let's be honest, who's not a fan of you right now? You're breaking records, have a new album coming out soon, and are nominated for none other than eight awards tonight!" she says, not missing a single beat while listing your merits "And all of this after your first album was a commercial success! Be honest, is it like a walk in the park this second time around?"

"What is?" you ask, even tho you definitely know what she means. You've learned that playing aloof from time to time helps to not make you look arrogant to the public.

"The record breaking, the awards, everything! Are you just kind of used to it already?"

You shake your head, careful of the curls your stylist spend hours on "Definitely not. I still can't believe all of this. I'm so happy and still having a hard time understanding what did I do to get this lucky"

And it's true. You're a small town girl that always thought her dreams were more than what she could chew. And somehow, you were the lucky one. You made it. One faithful afternoon that looked like an ordinary one to you, at the coffee shop where the owner used to let you play a couple of your songs for some share of the tips, you got scouted. And the rest was history.

There were still a lot of things you didn't quite understand in the famous people's world. Even if you were a big part of it now yourself. The envy, the need to pretend, the false friendships waiting round every corner. From some of them, you could protect yourself. You had your friends from high school, the unconditional ones. You were glad with the things you had achieved so far, and weren't really looking to stomp on anyone's foot. You tried to be yourself, as much as your publicist thought it was safe, at least.

But there were some other things, however...

"I know we're running out of time and that you almost have to go but I can't just not ask you this" the interviewer is saying, and for a split of a second, you genuinely believe that she's going to ask you more about your next album. About your actual work. The work that has consumed so much of your time, sweat, and even tears during those nights where you were just not sure of any lyrics anymore. For only a second, you forget that you're an actual A-lister now. "What does Mikey thinks about your new album?"

... some other things, are a bit harder to escape.

You're vaguely aware of your publicist shaking her head in disapproval out of the corner of your eye, but you smile and do your best to pretend this isn't the question you were expecting. Or the one you wanted, for that matter.

"Ahm... Mikey?" you ask, trying to win you some time.

The interviewer smirks. If she can sense your hesitation, she's doing a great job of pretending she actually doesn't. "Yeah! I mean, at this point, we all know you live together. Are any songs in the new album about him? Are we going to get any hints about the future?" she moves even closer, and the way she wiggles her eyebrows as if she's actually being funny, has you forgetting all the nice things she said to you "About any... possible wedding?"

"I'm sorry, but we really need to leave" your publicist comes to your rescue, and you let her maneuver you away from the camera with a small push. "I'm going to talk with them, don't worry" she whispers in your ear once you made it far enough "They told me it was just going to be something quick about tonight's awards"

...

Your night is more or less ruined after that silly, seemingly harmless question. The interview leaves such a bad taste on your mouth, that not even four glasses of champagne are able to wash it away. You win three of your eight nominations, including Artist of the Year. The speech you're supposed to give during the last one comes out as a messy blurb, and you just want to get back to your table to finish your fifth glass of the night.

Finally back in your seat, you catch your phone buzzing on your purse.

You have eleven texts from Mikey, and three pictures.

mikey 💖🏍️: you look so hot i wanna cry

mikey 💖🏍️: not going to do that but still. draken says hi and good luck.

mikey 💖🏍️: you're the fucking best.

[Picture attached]

mikey 💖🏍️: you looked so cute here, i'm gonna send this picture to takemichi to brag

You hide your laugh behind your hand, and make a quick inspection of your surroundings. No one else on the table seems to be paying attention to you, their eyes glued to the stage for the next award, so you go back to read your boyfriend's apparent live commentary of your performance for the night.

mikey 💖🏍️: a guy in your table is looking at you too much this is two times the camera catches him i'm going to google him

[Picture attached]

mikey 💖🏍️: congrats babygirl i knew you would win this!!!

mikey 💖🏍️: wtf this one should have gone to you as well. this show is rigged

[Picture attached]

mikey 💖🏍️: you looked so good during your speech i need to get you out of that dress immediately

mikey 💖🏍️: i miss you

mikey 💖🏍️: yeah another win for my baby! you're fucking destroying them!!

mikey 💖🏍️: draken won't stop looking at me i already told him i'm busy rooting for my baby

You leave Mikey's chat to find that you also have a text from Draken, and chuckle a little too louder at your boyfriend's childhood friend desperate message about taking away Mikey's phone, because they're supposed to be working on his bike.

You place your phone back to where it was before as soon as you feel the girl sitting on your right leaning over to take a peak. She gives you a sheepish smile.

"Bored already, huh?" she adds, rolling her eyes. You've known her for two years now. She's a very prominent rock vocalist "Honestly, this things should be shorter. I just wanna go home already"

You nod, and can't help but let your mind wander back to the probing questions that made your publicist cut short your previous interview. Back to the flaming curiosity people feel about your relationship. Back to how everyone seems to have an opinion, a theory to share, something to add to a narrative that has become such a public topic.

You remember the first article to come out after your relationship went public. You had been dating for a couple of months by then, and you were really excited to share the news with your fans, so you didn't mind when some paparazzis found the two of you on a date.

The first article ever written about you and Mikey's relationship wasted four pages on a list of ways your relationship could go sour. Reading it was such a punch to the gut, such a blow to your happiness, that you had decided then and there that you would turn a blind eye to every possible gossip about the two of you.

You were going to protect what you two had, no matter what.

At the cost of not being there, close to the race, cheering your boyfriend on as he came first. At the cost of not feeling the weight of his hand on yours while you walked the red carpet. At the cost of not having a normal date night around town, where the two of you could just walk closely together, counting the stars and sharing laughs.

Your relationship was not meant to be picked apart. The two of you would not become a list. What you had, would stay yours. And no one else.

That's the main reason why you only put your engagement ring back once you're home, when the cat you got as an engagement present from Chifuyu comes to greet you at the door, rubbing against your legs. You bend down to carry him with you to the living room, walking with an excited bounce in your steps even tho is technically three in the morning, and you should be dying of sleep.

But your fiance is there, on the couch, passed out over his phone, the light from the television still on in front him making his face glow in the dark. They're playing some special moments from tonight's ceremony, but you couldn't care less anymore.

"Hey, Manji" you call him, gently shaking him by the shoulder "I'm home now"

He opens one eye to peak at you from under his long dark lashes "Welcome back. I missed you so much"

"So much that you fell asleep?" you tease him.

That gets you dragged to the sofa, into Mikey's arms.

"You're trapped now. Can't leave anymore" he tells you, his voice raspy from sleep "No more award shows for you" your cat, feeling left out on the floor, meows loudly at the two of you "No, I won't let her go. She's mine"

"Yes, I'm yours" you whisper, snuggling against his chest and ignoring the way your dress will be all wrinkly when you (or Mikey, most likely) take it off. "And I wouldn't want to go anywhere else"

You just want to stay in the haze of your love forever.

This work belongs to my Midnights: Sleepless stories 🕰️ collection, a series of reader insert fics based on the album Midnight, by Taylor Swift, with characters from Haikyuu, Tokyo Revengers and Blue Lock. ✨

You can still send an ask if there's any character you would like to see in any particular song ✨

Last: carnations you had thought were roses, that's us. Next: falling in love, again

[emeraldborealis]

Talk To Me

Pairing: Poly!Ghostface x GN!reader

TW//CW: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, darkish topics.

Words: 1,486

It was movie night, truly my favorite night with the boys. But I wasn't really that into it this particular night, and they could tell. It wasn't that I wasn't enjoying the movie or my time with Billy and Stu, I was just perturbed, a bit dazed. My mind was elsewhere while I simultaneously tried to focus on the movie. It wasn't working either.  

Every time I'd start to get a grasp or sense on what was happening my mind would wander right back to what I was trying not to think about, it was like an infectious plague haunting my mind, demanding my addressal that I did not want to give it. That required energy I did not have to work through it. 

Billy had been watching me the whole time without my notice, rather than watching the movie. He was trying to figure out what was wrong, if he'd done something or if I could just be tired. He was good at reading people and the room but he still couldn't read minds. Giving up on his mental guessing game he grabbed the remote from the coffee table hitting pause on the VHS. 

Stu's head raised from it's place on my chest to question Billy's actions but he stopped when he saw his face, immediately knowing something wasn't right. "Y/n, what's wrong?" Billy asked me. 

"Nothing, let's just watch the movie." I answered weakly, really not wanting to get into it, and just wanting a distraction from what was bothering me. 

"I can clearly see something's wrong, don't try and bullshit me. You haven't even been paying attention to the movie this whole time. Look, if something's wrong you can talk to me. To us." Billy pressed on knowing better than to believe my sad attempt to shut myself off. Something he knew to recognize from his own behavior.  

"Darling, it's ok. We're here for you. Always." Stu ushered me on, taking my face into his hands to stare deeply into my eyes, as if searching for the thing torturing me in them. 

"I-" I started before stopping, trying to collect some cohesive words to portray how I felt. To portray what was wrong. "I don't know how to say it. I can't say it. I can't even collect my thoughts on the matter, and yet they're all that's running through my head." Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill over.  

"You don't have to know what to say, or what to think. But if something's bothering you, hurting you. You can let it out. However you want, there's no one way to vent, no one way to get help. To be loved. Because I love you, I hope you know that. So, come as you are and I'll meet you there." Billy moved from his place on the chair to sit with me on the couch. With his warm welcometouch on my shoulder the tears began to fall freely.  

"No matter what you have to say, let your words release your pain, you and I can share the weight. It's doing no good holding it in, it'll poison you until it's all consuming. It's alright, let it out." Stu took my hand in his, feeling a pain strike in his heart feeling it tremble in his hold.  

Nodding my head I did the one thing I could to tell something I wanted no one to know, I treated it as a secret. Taking turns whispering my problems in their ear, so I could say what was wrong without feeling too revealed. Too vulnerable. Without saying it loud enough for anyone but them to hear. 

With the release of the cat from it's bag the boy's took me into their arms holding me tightly, allowing me to cry in a place I felt safe and unexposed. Over my head they locked eyes with each other, sharing a look of understanding. They knew how they were going to handle the situation. How it wouldn't happen again. But not right now, what mattered now was taking care of me.  

"I don't know what to do anymore, I just wish I was someone else. Someone who wasn't me. I don't want to be me. I wish I was like you two, I wish I was as strong as you both. But I'm not, and I keep cracking under the pressure because I'm not strong enough to take it, or shove it off and release myself from my burdens." I sobbed hiding my face in their comfort, I couldn't bear to have them see me like this, to let them watch me fall to pieces.  

"You don't have to be anybody but you, I love you just the way you are. I love you for being you, and that you keep going not despite the fact that you're you, but because you're you. You think anyone but you would love us? After everything, and knowing everything? Not a chance. No one could replace you, because no one's quite like you." Stu cooed to me, gently moving my hair to see me better.  

"It feels like nothings easy, it never will be. Life isn't easy. Things happen we don't want to, but we have to keep going. So it's alright, you can let it all out. You can vent to me, tell me anything. You can talk to me, because I'll never judge you for it." Billy brought me onto his lap holding me close to his chest, to his heart.  

"I just want things to be easy. I don't want to keep going through things that will make me 'stronger', I am not strong! I can't keep going like this! I just can't do it anymore. And I shouldn't have to." I laid my head down on Billy's shoulder, feeling myself going numb. "Can't you just kill me?" I felt Billy tense under me from the shock of my suggestion. 

Stu frantically took my head in his hands making me look at him, to look in his scared worried eyes. "Baby no, we could never kill you. Anyone but you. We need you. You are what's keeping everything together, without you everything would fall apart. Something very big would be missing without you, and how you think, no one could ever fill the void of your absence. You'll survive, you'll make it through this. Because you have to." His words were just as frantically said as his actions.  

"Y/n, you can't ever say anything like that ever again. We would never do anything to hurt you, in any way. Stu's right, we need you. For no other reason than we love you. But what other reason would we need? You being you is enough for us to need you, even if you're upset and crying, we still need you. We still want you." Billy held me by the waist, I felt safe and secure with them. In their essences. I knew they'd never do anything to really hurt me, even if I asked them to. 

"I'm sorry." I whispered out feeling bad I had requested it of them in the first place. "I shouldn't have said that-" 

"No, It's ok. I get it, I really do. You don't have to apologize." Stu interrupted my self deprecation. "Whatever you say or think is ok, even if it's dark, it's ok. Just try not to linger on it too long."  

"Thanks Stu." He nodded leaning in to place a tender kiss to my forehead. "I know I can push through this, but sometimes I just want to let it push through me instead. I want to let it consume me until there's nothing left of me."  

"And that's ok, I think it's pretty normal to think like that. But you have to hold on. You can't let it get to the point it's killing you. Let it go before it gets there. Give it to me, or Stu, and we'll help you push through. No matter what may be bothering you we can help, or at least just be here so you're not alone." Billy placed his forehead against my temple showing his affection for me. "We're here for you, just like you're here for us. That's how a relationship works." 

"Don't ever think somethings too dark to tell us, that something is too small or insignificant. You can say anything, about anything, and we're here to listen. You can ramble on and on about whatever you want, I'm happy to hear it. I want to hear it. Especially your horror rambles, those are my favorite." I settled myself between them on the couch feeling a bit better. Having less of a burning topic on my mind. 

"Can we restart the movie? I did actually want to watch it, I just couldn't focus on it." I asked meekly, to which they happily obliged and rewound the tape to the beginning.   

"Anything for my love!" Stu grinned widely, pressing play. 

[killthe-groove]

this is a happy house;

pairing- james potter x dark!sirius black warning(s)- dark themes.

series masterlist!

within the hot winds of summers, the rain poured slowly, killing with wry grounds of the potter's house. james sat beside the couch, his back between his mother's legs as she rubbed the coconut oil into his already thick curls. contently he sighed, as her fingers massaged into his scalp. he enjoyed the quiet moment of serenity.

being a teenager, he was starting to feel things he hadn't before. the hormones held him high, and with time, he had started to feel the distance between him and his parents. something kept him apart from fully indulging with them, but he couldn't quite pin point upon what. but now that he felt the short moment of serenity, where he didn't feel the distance between him and his mother, he relished it.

that is until the quiet moment was torn apart from him as the doorbell rang, paired with continuous knocks on the door. his heart leapt, and he jumped up, running to the door. he lifted the lid of the eye socket on the door.

he felt his heart skip a few beats and his brain coddle into a mush as he watched his best friend from the socket. he opened the door, letting the drenched, cursed figure of his best friend wrap his arms around his body. he shivered as he snuck within the crevices' of james' warm body, seeking for warmth from the cold droplets of rain.

a mixture of blood, mud and tramped on his yellow t-shirt as he dragged him inside the comfort and warmth of his house. through shallow breathes, sirius let out a few words, that james could barely make out, but it gave him a good idea about his condition.

'they- di'owned me- i le't reggie- i'm a horrible brother,' he breathed through a troubled pattern. he slurred his words, and judging by the pathetic condition of his ability of walking, james knew what he had to do.

'good lord, what happened!' his mum exclaimed as james carried sirius to the couch.

'mum please bring your wand and do your magic, i can't do it.' james said, running into his room to bring him his blanket. sirius shuddered uncontrollably and euphemia spoke a few spells, summoning her wand and a plethora of different of potions.

*-

through half lidded eyes he watched as james covered him with his blanket. his clothes had been changed into freshly ironed lose ones - which smelled slightly like james. his tired mind wanted to sleep, but it wouldn't come, especially when he was surrounded by the touch and feel of james potter.

he felt his heart leap as james took his hand into his, covering his cold, pale lifeless hand with his warm ones. he smiled at him,

'wherever shall i go prongs?' he asked, his brain flooded with the thought of being a burden to the family, to the happy house. james knitted his eyebrows.

'you'll stay here, padfoot. i'll take care of you.' his hand cradled his cheek, and sirius melted at his touch, allowing himself to consume into the touch that sent shocks of electricity through his spine.

'no, james i can't. this is a happy house.' james nodded.

'and you'll be happy here. we're happy here. just open the windows when it hurts to breathe.'

*****************

taglist- @lemongrass77777 @night-ish (let me know if i should remove you!)

******************

[q1ngqve]

Miss lan... I don't know how longer I can keep it in...

Dan heng.

His lil scrunched up face and his gentle voice. That cold "I don't care attitude" when he cares the most. My little traumatized babie, pookie bear, blorbo and husband.

Today I announce to the world proudly, that I am a Dan heng kisser, fucker, server whatever. Everything that has to do with my precious treasure is consumed by me. Angst, fluff, smut, lemon, fan art... I will gobble them up and leave nothing for my fellow dan heng fans. I will not apologize. (JKJKJK)

If I ever transmigrate into HSR,I'll l give him a big fat wet kiss and take him and RUN away somewhere safe and beautiful.

He deserves a world with happiness, joy, pleasure, luxury and satisfaction. He needs to be gently held in my arms and be cradled delicately so as to not break. He should be comforted in my lap while we're gazing at the Xianzhou's sky, reminiscing about the happier times of his life. He needs to be waited on hand by yours truly and be treated like a divine entity who saved no created the world. He needs to be cherished.

I know not if I'm worthy but I will not spare him to any other 💪🏻 (Also JK he is for everyone and everybody to cherish and enjoy, not slander 😔)

Thank you for listening to me and giving me your precious time. 😭🙏🏻

P.S : I understand if you want to block me, my future self would too. I needed to scream about him to someone worthy 😭... but please do share your aggressive love letter like mine to Jing Yuan to the world too. Also your Jing Yuan wedding blog was yummy, I'm gluttonous though...so need more about you and peepaw general 👀

(Also I ship you and him wholeheartedly 🙏🏻 so much so that I'll never read a Jing Yuan fic or the part consisting him, staying loyal to the LanYuan/JingLan ship 🙇🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧍‍♀️)

Have a wonderful day, beautiful reader and writer. ❤

-🌺

he really does deserve all the good things :( and i just know he’d run away with you the moment you suggest it to him

and i will ALWAYS be here to listen to you guys so don’t worry about it okay 😚❗️😼ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

this is for you btw 🤭 and this

[dyed-red]

Happy WW! What do you think about Sam’s and Dean’s safe sex practices? Do they use condoms with each other? Do they *talk* about it? Have they ever been cavalier with strangers? What about Robo!Sam and Demon!Dean?

you sent this like 3 weeks ago, i started replying, got distracted by work, went to a conference, got covid, finished teaching for the term, and now we're back!

(sorry about the delay omg, and thank you for asking!! i love asks! i'm just distractable af with replying)

Happy Wincest Wednesday!

Okay I definitely had to think about this one and separate what i like to write or think is hot (no condoms, nothing between them and marking each other with cum) versus what i think actually suits their characters.

Starting with how they are with other people (because I don't headcanon them as especially monogamous in their relationship with each other, especially dean), I headcanon that they both have fairly careful safe sex practices -- once again, especially dean.

he wasn't entirely shocked by the idea that he might have a kid running around out there when he met Ben, so i think sometimes something slips (condoms aren't fool proof, and whatever he and lisa were up to sounded bendy and memorable so maaayyybe he was skipping the safety just a little, he was still pretty young when he would have had that memorable time with her, i think 19?). but i also think he's really damn careful because he knows that if he had a kid, that would consume his life in a huge way. family is everything to dean and given his lifestyle and the fact that sam's safety (or continued survival and humanity, at least) is typically his #1 priority, i imagine the thought of getting someone pregnant would terrify dean as much as he might also want that, on some level.

sam, i imagine, is incredibly practical about these things, which means careful safe sex and condom usage. at the same time, sam is undeniably kinky, and if we assume he has as big a dick as is typically headcanoned and at times implied (by jared and by that ridiculous dick joke of a promo with swords), i also think sam wouldn't really... like condoms. (i mean, does anyone?). getting the right size feels almost egotistical, and he might be really particular about ordering from a select brand or something. i also think he'd definitely get off on not using one, on being bare with his lover and finishing inside them and the fear/danger/possibility of that as well as him leaning into the possessive and territorial side of marking someone. sam is a jealous guy, even if it tries to paint himself as cool headed.

so - i think sam is practical but also... reckless. he's canonically got a blindspot for his own reckleness, because once he's decided something is a calculated risk, he's 110% in. driving the impala through the side of a house? check. turn into a zombie with dean to loophole dean's deal? check. sam dgaf, and i have to imagine he takes calculated risks with sex too.

so condoms are assumed, but with a long term partner (jess), once they're exclusive and she's on the pill (or patch or iud or whatever), he's seeing if condoms can exit the equation.

even more casually though, he's not hard to convince to just... skip it. the girl says she's clean and on the pill (or whichever)? sure, yes, great, no condom needed. maybe not for the more incidental of hookups, but he also prefers to get to know his partners, even his hookups, at least a little before sliding into bed with them, which i think would also lend him more confidence in what they're claiming about their birth control and sti status.

(he's also had the clap courtesy of that joke from Patrick the witch, if i remember the episode correctly, so like... there's that. tbh i headcanoon that both sam and dean have both had stis at least once, dean because condoms aren't 100% perfect in mitigating sti risk and he really enjoys hooking up, so it's just a numbers game. and sam because he's not as careful as he likes to think he is)

for demon!dean, he's using condoms. he does not want to have to deal with any of that shit. if demons can get pregnant and carry the antichrist (as per season 5), they can sure as shit get others pregnant, and that is a headache and a half. he might not bother when he's hooking up with crowley and twins or triplets and things are getting wild, because it's not like he can get an sti this way (the same way demons can't really get human injuries, right?), but i also tend to think dean is... not a germophobe, not actually, but there's a limit to what other people's body fluids he wants on or in him or wants to have to deal with in general, and condoms are just easier, including and especially when doing anal (regardless of the gender of his partner).

for soulless!sam... that man gives zero shits. you want him to wear one? cool. you're cool with him not wearing one? no likely issues or infections? great, condoms are a nuisance anyway. if you get pregnant he'll pay for the abortion. he doesn't need a brat walking around but he's not above shooting you if it becomes a headache. if you show up with a kid, he also might decide that's cool and he has a little mini me to train up, since having a hunting partner is preferable than not, especially if he can mould them into a useful tool.

now the most interesting part... what does that mean about their safe sex practices with each other?

(under a cut because this got long and ever so slightly filthy)

depending on how they start hooking up and the trajectory here, i can envision that when they get to the penetrative stuff (regardless of who tops and who bottoms), dean being confused and a little... affronted? that sam wants to do it without condoms?

"what do you mean you like it better that way? you're doing this with other people? you're skipping condoms? what the hell is wrong with you, did you learn nothing from the safe sex talk when you were 14?? that talk was 98% about no glove no love! where did i go wrong? aren't you worried about diseases? about kids? sam what the fuck?"

i jest but like... this is sending dean, a bit. sam is the responsible one, what the fuck is happening here. sam, unless he's pissed about dean being over the top, would just shrug and say condoms numb some of the sensation. poor dean is stuck between the reality of sam's stupid big dick and the perfect responsible sammy image he has in his mind cracking into a million pieces.

(not like he didn't know sam is a freak in bed but that's one thing and this is another. but well, sam has literally drank blood, what's a few other bodily fluids in the mix after that? but dean doesn't want to think about that. and sam reassures him that he gets tested regularly for stis when he's sexually active, regardless of whether he's using condoms or not, because he is diligent and responsible in his own way)

anyway, they come around on it, both willing to try it the other guy's way and accomodate. assuming they're both vers, which is my headcanon on their dynamic, they fall into a pattern where whoever bottoms essentially determines what safe sex practices are gonna be used that day.

when sam bottoms, except when things are quick or sleepy and he doesn't want to deal with any prior or post cleaning, he typically prefers when dean skips the condom because it turns him on when there's nothing between him and his brother, and dean gets into that as well and gets a bit kinky with it, with having all of his brother and leaving some of himself in sam's guts. sam eats his fibre and this doesn't present either of them much issue.

when dean bottoms, he generally makes sam glove up, but there are plenty of exceptions. one of the things he enjoys about it is that sam will go a little caveman and pull out to cum, pulling off the condom and cumming on dean's skin instead, whether that's on his back and ass and on his hole (dean doesn't mind, kind of likes when sam rubs it in there a little, with his dick or his fingers, but he's not about to admit that out loud), or whether it's all over his stomach, or if sam is in a Mood and he grabs dean by his short hair and cums on his face.

(which is another thing that turns dean on like whoa, but only when sam does it, he hates taking it on the face from anyone else. and it's half because of how sam looks when he does, and looks at dean, and there's so much heat and possessiveness in the action that it slides down dean's spine, the naked reality of just how much sam wants him, how he can't hold back or hold himself in check, how he wants devour dean just as assuredly as dean wants to devour him).

when sam is needy or jealous though, or when they have a bit of time, dean invites him in without a condom and and and - and he feels a little deranged and unhinged with sam all the way in there with nothing in the way, and it's really fucking good just skin on skin (better, he's willing to admit, even if it's not worth the added effort all the time), and sam invariably cums first when they do it that way and sometimes dean trips over that edge with him because sam hammers in so fast and deep when he does and because knowing sam is spilling inside of him scrambles something in his brain.

other times though, sam pulls out and goes down on dean and fingers his cum back in there and dean feels absolutely filthy and almost embarrassed and exposed and it's an entirely different kind of orgasm. almost always leading to cuddling that they don't discuss because things are a little raw when it plays out this way, for reasons neither can quite articulate.

[ask-the-all-consuming-void]

[Other fun scenarios I thought of for Mortal!End include: The End going to a diner and asking to “consume the collected remnants of the unborn.” In other words, they want an omelette.

Them tripping and scraping their knee and actually crying on the floor because this is the first time they’ve felt physical pain.

Them going to an amusement park because it’s the highest concentration of chaos they can find. They ride a roller coaster and are terrified that their fragile mortal body will be flung from it and they will perish. Thankfully, they survive. They find themself going on the rides again and again. Totally not because they’re having fun.

They meet Tangle the Lemur and proceed to absolutely despise her. They thought SONIC was annoying. How dare this lemur enjoy life and spread happiness and chaos where she goes.

The End is surprised to find that mortals don’t consume food with death lasers. They just put it into their mouth-holes.

They meet Metal Sonic and are intrigued by him. Is he truly “alive?” Can he be considered a living thing if his existence is spent trying to copy another? At least he’s far more orderly and emotionless than his counterpart. They dress as the Grim Reaper for Halloween.

They would either hate Shadow or weirdly get along with him. There is no in-between.

They find that they enjoy laying on peaceful, grassy fields. It’s very calm. Perhaps existence has some order to it after all. Looking at the night sky is nice, too.

Eventually, maybe they find people they care about. Maybe they learn to enjoy life as much as the other mortals. They learn that the chaos is just another part of order. Or maybe they shouldn’t. How would they feel when they realize they snuffed out countless precious lives? Countless beautiful worlds? Maybe it’s a mercy that they stay ignorant. Could they live with the guilt? Maybe they lost their chance to be a part of existence long ago.

Anyway I think it would be neat if they were a purple crow with red eyes]

[Hi!! Sorry for sitting on this ask for so long—I wasn't sure how to clean up all these answers into something presentable, so you know what? Here they are, as is!

[Omelette] The diner goes silent, but the cook understands Them immediately ldnfndhddg

[Pain] *GTA Wasted sound effect* fjkdkd and They think we're the weak ones

[Rollercoaster] Oughhg that's cute and so fitting with the angle I write Them from—They think They know everything about mortal life, but there's some things you can't understand or judge without trying them yourself!

[Tangle] "You fling yourself into mortal peril with nothing but your rubber-band tail. For fun. What is wrong with you" gfhjk

[Eating] Oh They find the whole digestive process disgusting and convoluted, and for what? To convert energy into something your cells can sustain themselves with? What a pitiful existence to deal with

[Metal Sonic] My End considers Sage alive, so I'd say the same goes for Metal. And oh yeah, They would've much preferred having Metal as "the key" lol

[Halloween] They run into Metal wearing the same costume and they fight brutally to determine who has to change kdhfgbd

[Shadow] Tbh, I'm not sure how I'd answer if someone send an ask as Shadow. Out of all the main cast, he's probably the one who's dealt with death the most, and I'm scared of cheapening that. But if they met in-person, I think The End would try to ask him why he endures the crappy hand life's dealt him... only for Shadow to start kicking, cus he knows an evil god in Mobian form when he sees one (even if he can't remember why)

[Fields] Oh that's a wonderful image... Them starting to appreciate Earth's version of quiet, even if They'd still prefer absolute quiet. There's bugs chirping, the grass itches, and there's pesky bright dots breaking up the darkness... but maybe it's nice in its own way.

[Guilt] Man. No notes.

[Crow] Aaaa a crow would really fit them! Minor spoilers for the eventual art, but unfortunately I've already chosen a mammal for Their mortal form. God I hope it's worth the wait fdghj

Thanks for all this, and for your massive patience!!]

-- Mod Nothing

[uhgood-girl]

so this video isn't directly about bts but i feel like it's super relevant to them and how there's actually some interesting science going on behind the infamous bts army glow up.

if you're unfamiliar, the bts army glow up is the long running theory? shared experience? amongst said army that listening to bangtan is life changing, usually in incredibly positive ways. your self confidence goes up, your heart grows wider, your view of the world changes, sometimes imperceptibly, sometimes outright. when you choose to engage with their music, and i think you get out as much as you put in, you are choosing to immerse yourself in a thoughtfully composed orchestra of genuine thoughts and feelings and philosophies curated by real human beings. which can be really difficult to find in this age of AI and algorithms. (fuck them, as a wise man once said) go further and choose to engage with them directly, beyond their music alone, and now you're straight up in the magic shop.

if bts were any less than outstanding, that type of power and influence would be terrifying. in the wrong hands, it has been terrifying before but call it some sort of cosmic, karmic balance to the rest of these times we're forced to live in, against all odds, they are good. they are good people. they're overarching messages are positive and deep and applicable to their own lives, it's not just for show. and even when/where they are flawed, they grow, and are made all the greater for it.

personally, they have raised the bar for all of the media i enjoy. i am low key disappointed when i cannot find the underlying meaning in something. this artist hasn't used any jungian theory/greek mythology/contemporary indie films/etc. references in their work? well, what am i supposed to do with that? lol and i'm not saying everything, always, should be an elucidated think piece, that there's no room for the dulcet tones of bubblegum pop (bts has plenty!) or whatever cotton candy equivalents of entertainment, those things have their place, for sure.

but you are what you eat? or in this case, listen to. be careful what you consume.

[oneshortdamnfuse]

Hi. I saw your video on the HP game. I found your points interesting. I never got into that franchise myself but a very dear friend of mine, who is trans, grew up with this franchise and it helped her cope in so many ways. She never cared for jkr. However when the bs that woman spits out became hard to ignore it broke my friend's heart she was so upset. She decided however to seperate the movies from jkr for the sake of her childhood memories. She feels awfully conflicted about it though since it meant so much to her and is devastated the author ruined this magical world. Do you have any tips? Sorry for asking you but you seem so wise and knowledgeable. I have no idea how to help my friend out of this dilemma 😔 and I don't think telling her to look for another franchise is helpful or an appropriate thing to say

Hey 👋🏻

It's not my video specifically. I am just sharing it.

I know what it's like to enjoy media made by a person who is pretty terrible. While there are valid arguments to be made about separating the art from the artist, it's important to consider whether engaging in the art itself 1) perpetuates a harmful ideology and/or 2) gives monetarily to a person or group of people who will go on to fund a harmful activity of some kind.

The point is to think about where your money is going and to be conscious of the content you are consuming.

For example, the fast food industry as a whole is exploitative. All of these companies engage in bad labor practices and use up important resources. But. There are times when people have to eat something quick and easy and inexpensive. I don't blame people for that. However, some companies like Chick fil a are using their money to donate to really harmful and homophobic organizations. When we ask people to avoid buying from there, we run into the same issues with JKR's work. It's part of our childhood! We like it! We're just trying to enjoy our lives in this capitalist hellscape!

Yet, there are alternative products to Chick fil a. The downside for me is that most fast food doesn't meet my dietary needs, but Chick fil a has items I can eat. Still, I don't want to be complicit in their harm so I choose not to buy from them. I have to ask myself if my craving for grilled chicken nuggets is more important than the queer people being harmed by their donations to homophobic organizations and you know what? To me it's not worth it. It takes more energy out of me, but I can make grilled chicken nuggets at home.

Does that make my life a little bit harder? Yeah, especially when I have no energy to cook and I can't easily pick up a cheap meal. It's worth it to me though to make that "sacrifice." I don't perfectly avoid all businesses with horrible practices because I just can't afford to sometimes, but the point of that video is not "do no harm," but rather do less harm.

...and look, harm isn't 100% avoidable even if you tried your best. I know this. Does rereading the HP books you already have make you complicit in the harm JKR does to trans folks? I don't know. I am not the judge. However, I do know that continuing to buy JKR's work contributes to TERF lobbies and Anti-Trans legislation. Whether or not you like her work isn't important so much as it's important how the money made from her work is being used. There are alternatives to JKR - much better alternatives to JKR. It's not insensitive to say, hey, maybe this hyperfixation you have on her work deserves some self reflection and maybe distancing yourself from it can't happen overnight but it may be worthwhile to seek out content that has a similar premise but does not involve harmful tropes nor line the pockets of bigots.

Fiction is fiction, yeah.

There's many fictional works out there made by problematic people with problematic elements and the enjoyment of that work doesn't mean you are a bad person. It's normal to enjoy things with a critical eye or say, okay, I know this thing they said or did was wrong but I can separate that from my enjoyment of their work and I personally am not going to use my enjoyment of their work to intentionally harm anyone.

But Fiction is also fiction in the sense that it's not so deep that you can't possibly divorce yourself from art and artists who are actively doing harm forever or at least until they are no longer actively doing harm. There's other stuff out there. I feel like it's not as big of a deal as people make it out to be to drop something that is causing people harm, especially if it is doing harm to your own community. There are much bigger ethical dilemmas than figuring out whether or not to buy more HP content.

[finsterhund]

Also I do feel that some may see my harsher critical reception of Skinamarink as some sort of hypocrisy because I'm so adamantly against toxic derogatory negativity under the guise of being critical and "having opinions", but my criticism I really want to stress comes from a place of constructive feedback and wanting this thing I see potential in to reach a new hight. I care so much because I was so invested. I'm not just some parasite that revels in shitting on things. I hope that's come across in the things I've said.

The people I take issue with are never constructive or intelligent in criticism they're just bitter hateful weirdos who like to tear things down for no reason. I feel it's possible to dislike things or criticize things in a healthy way that isn't harmful but so much of the internet and the culture you see normalized on social media like Twitter is pointlessly hostile and cruel.

As a star wars fan I see that sorta thing a lot. People on Twitter are getting really personally invested in showing contempt for anyone that gets "too excited" for things like seeing a character they recognize show up in the background or otherwise having childlike excitement in the media they consume, or calling anyone who's overly positive all sorts of names and it's particularly exhausting. Sometimes what's most important is just enjoying things and having fun. The world is already such a dark and cruel place I think we can all be a little more positive when we're able.

I struggle a lot with negativity and I understand that it's a real easy way to feel better about yourself or your own situation by lashing out and punching down but it doesn't actually help anything in the long run and we need to make the effort to get out of that mental rut.

Anyways, I'm trying to get by today. My emotions have been all over the place as of late. It's been particularly good for a bit but I'm starting to come down again.

[erstwhilesparrow]

double life playlist

a list of songs, for your perusal and enjoyment :]

I Know by Motherfolk -- Team Rancher, but only for the lines I know that I don't know you that well / But I know I've been missing you like hell. they get along! it works for them! they don't know each other.

Plenty by aeseaes -- breaking the fourth wall for tragedy and horror. characters trapped inside a story of their own making. (Show the crowd you're happy, like a movie, like a movie / What's your story, what's the refund policy? / We want violence, we want blood)

Becoming My Own Home by The Collection -- i am not immune to being sad thinking about Team Rancher post-canon. (Well, your absence sets in with the early frost / And the things that I've loved are the things I have lost / The wheat from the chaff, the sheep from the goats / [...] / The birds are already leaving / I guess you got swept in their migration / And now every nest I come across looks abandoned / Pacing every inch of this room / Looking for one spot without memories of you)

Salt Lake City by Motherfolk -- Team Rancher, and also the feeling of wishing your soulbound partner had someone else so you wouldn't have to be the one to fail them. knowing it's impossible anyway, since they'll die when you do. (I hope your organs fail you before I do / I hope your lungs run out of air before your dreams run out of truth / I hope your heart explodes before you watch me turn human)

Chance by The National Parks -- for the inevitable, all-consuming tragedy of a death game: Lately I've been losing sleep / The bright lights led me to the deep / If only this was just a game it wouldn't be so hard to walk away. for Team Rancher: Well I roll the dice and I hold my breath / I'll give you all that I have left. for Boat Boys: Well you've got me in this trance and I need your hand to win / If I have to leave this up to chance / You're a gamble and I'm all in

Grenadine by Oliver Hazard -- Boat Boys. (Hold my breath for the next of kin / Douse my hands in kerosene / Troubled loss at the monument / Oh, I can't stand with the rest of them)

Hello My Old Heart by The Oh Hellos -- in case you want to get sentimental about the necessary brevity of a positive relationship formed during a death game. (Oh, don't leave me here alone / Don't tell me that we've grown / For having loved a little while / Oh, I don't wanna be alone / I wanna find a home / And I wanna share it with you)

Already Gone by Wild Rivers -- Divorce Quartet, but also, more generally, the feeling of things going wrong and the quiet of the ruined bases left behind as pairs die off in the later sessions. (I think nothing beautiful comes without a fight / Of course, there's no exception in us / I've come to love revolving doors and things that tend to shine / But you never really cared for that much)

Thunder by Penny and Sparrow -- Pearl. or maybe Bigb. (My heart's like a fireplace in summer / It's useless and only here for show / I don't know what it is I'm after / I just hope I find it when I go)

Stella by Cereus Bright -- Cleo + Scott. (I don't need anybody, I'm fine here on my own / But if I needed somebody, it'd be you I'd call my own / [...] / I know you've danced a hundred songs, but stay with me one more)

Real Good Feeling by Oh The Larceny -- murder! chaos! fire! (Boat Boys!) (This place is jumping off, hot as it can get / No we won't ever stop dancing on the edge / We like it dangerous, we like to see you sweat / Turn up a another notch you aint seen nothing yet)

Grapevine Fires by Death Cab for Cutie -- everything burns! it was always going to happen! we all saw this coming and knew it was impossible to stop, so let's enjoy the flames while we're here. (A wake up call to a rented room / Sounded like an alarm of impending doom / To warn us it's only a matter of time / Before we all burn)

Sleeping on the Blacktop by Colter Wall -- Pearl, in some ways that are mostly vibes, and in other ways, the uncanny feeling that you know these people, that you've done all this before, that your roles and lines have gotten scrambled somewhere along the way. (Hey darlin' / Sleeping on the blacktop / Hey darlin' / Running through the trees, honey / [...] / I swear I've seen ya face elsewhere before / Just as familiar as a bottle and a glass)

others that would be cheating to include here because the fanworks for them already exist but that are on my playlist: Check It Out by Oh The Larceny (which also. isn't double life to begin with.), Rain in Soho by The Mountain Goats, As Many Candles As Possible by The Mountain Goats

[vannybarber]

Let Me Teach You

Summary: Jake hasn't had any sexual experiences before, so you decide to take the next step in your relationship and start him off.

Virgin¡Jake Jensen x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, virgin Mary Jake, oral (m to f & f to m), cum play, cursing, MAJOR fluff, Jake being so innocent 🥺, you corrupting him 😏.

"If it gets too much or overwhelming, just tell me and we'll stop okay?" You turn to Jake, closing the bedroom door.

He looks at you and nods his head nervously.

It was obvious as soon as the subject was brought up the first time, he was uncomfortable about it until he finally told you he was a virgin.

You thought it was sweet and you even got a little cocky knowing you're the farthest he's gone in a relationship and would be his first. You constantly let him know that your relationship was based off of love and he didn't have to do this yet, but he insisted, also adding on that he didn't know how he resisted you this long anyway.

And here you guys were, about to do something so life changing for him. It was an honor that he trusted you with his body and you were gonna take care of him.

You walk to the bed and sit on it, him following your movements. His face is red and he's smiling so nervously. You giggle at his state and rub his ram tatted arm.

"You don't need to be nervous, honey. I'm gonna make this the best experience for you. I won't hurt you, I promise," you calm him, giggling at the last sentence.

"I know, it's just so weird that this is literally happening. I didn't think it would come honestly."

And he had a point. When he first asked you out, it was a complete mess. You were searching for a new keyboard for your PC and he was trying with much difficulty to get your number. He ended up knocking an entire row of keyboards on the floor. It was the most adorable thing ever. He ended up coming over and setting up your tech.

"Well you trust me, don't you?" You wiggle a little closer till your thighs are touching.

"Yes, I do." He wraps his arm around your waist and smiles at you. You cup his face and kiss the side of his mouth.

"Well then you don't have to worry." You plant your lips on his and move in sync with his. You pull him back to the headboard, mouths still connected.

You lie back on the bed and Jake climbs over on you. One thing he was really good at was kissing, which you also taught him as well. He almost enjoys it more than computers.

Your hands slide up his shirt and he disconnects to get it off. You admire his toned torso. He goes red again when he sees you staring.

"You're so perfect, sweetheart," you tell him, then continuing to kiss him again. He takes his own lead and trails his lips down your neck, concluding a soft moan from you.

"Can I take your shirt off, babe?" He looks at you for approval. Your heart jumps at his need for consent, although you've made it aware that he could do whatever he feels with you when he was ready. But he's such a gentleman and you loved it.

"Of course, baby", you get out, before he scrambles to remove your top. You sit up on your hands, completely bare on top and it legitimately took his breath away.

"Jake, breathe." You laugh, but cautiously wait for him to get himself together. He shakes his head before looking at you again.

"You wanna touch them? You can. Their just for you." You're getting really aroused by his shyness to seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He reaches his hands out and starts squeezing your boobs and playing with your nipples.

You bite your lip and give him a smirk with your eyes.

"Taste them if you want. Do whatever you like," you challenge him. He surprisingly, but quickly latched his mouth on them and starts flicking his tongue on the buds. You lean your head to the side and exhale. He switches over and does the same to the other one, biting it a tiny bit.

You squeal in shock and he pulls back fast.

"Did I hurt you? Was that too much? I'm sorry, I just got a little carried away! I didn't mean to-"

"Jake!" You cut him rambling, something he tends to do often. He stops and looks up at you hesitantly.

"It's alright, honey. It just caught me by suprise. I liked it, don't worry." You caress his cheek and kiss the corner of his mouth. He lets out a deep breathe.

"You wanna try something else?" you suggest.

"Yeah there is something- I well...I wanted to try. I...um saw it in a -a video?" He struggles to form a sentence.

"Jake, look at me. Just relax okay? This is safe place. Tell me whatever you need okay? Don't be nervous."

"Okay..well I wanted to try uh...or-al." He scrunched up his face, scared at your reaction. But you're overjoyed. You haven't received oral in you don't know how long. You grin at him, making his expression soften.

"You really want to?" He nods his head. "Well alright then!" You unbutton your pants and Jake yanks them down and off your feet. Heat is radiating off his body as he grabs the waistband of your panties.

"Go ahead, love." He drags them down effortlessly, with your help of lifting your lower half up. He chucks them behind him and runs his hands up and down his jean covered thighs.

You slowly open your legs and allow him to bathe in the glory that lies between your hips. He made a very audible gasp, which worried you for a second, but passed when you remembered the circumstances; he's never seen a pussy in real life.

"Its..so beautiful, oh gosh." You laugh and he chuckles with you.

"Thank you, but it would look so much better with your mouth on it." He meets your eyes, taken aback and you just wink at him. "Do you know how to do it?"

He gets all shy and looks down. "No, not exactly." You lift his chin up.

"Its super easy, Jakey. All you have to do it lick on my clit for a while and then I'll have my orgasm."

"Okay but where's the...um...clit?" You grab his right hand and hover it over your sopping pussy.

"You feel that little bud right there?" You take his index finger and plant it right on your clit. He nods his head.

"That's the clit, okay? Just keep licking there and don't stop."

"So right here?" He rubs a tiny bit on it and you throw your head back with a low "shit".

"Yes baby, exactly right there." He wastes no time laying on his stomach, face directly above your heat. You look at him once more.

"Whenever you're ready," you say, giving him the okay. He give you a smooth wink and licks a long strip to the top of your pussy. You suck in massive breath, completely thrown off. But he doesn't stop.

He maneuvers his tongue to find the bud that you helped him locate, which was now quicker to find. He flicks it 3 times and sucks on it, making a wet noise and a popping sound.

"Jake, what the actual FUUUCK!" You moan out, the top of your head literally in the mattress and he lifts his head in confusion. You jerk your head back up, with wide eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Nonononono! Baby, you're doing so good for me, just keep going. I love it. It's perfect."

He grins at your desperation before diving his head back in. This time his flicks his tongue faster and raisies his eyes up to you, just like he learned in the video.

You catch his eyes and arch your back in response. Out of nowhere, he sticks two of his fingers inside you, throwing you off once again. You sit up on your forearms trying to process everything.

He raises his head and bites his lips.

"Does that feel good, baby?" You nod your head and groan, words not coming so easily to you.

"Jake, oh my goodness, I'm gonna cum all over your face! Please don't stop baby, fuck!"

This motivates him ten times harder knowing he's going to make a girl come for the first time in his life. He picks up the speed of his tongue and moans, pumping his thick fingers quicker and even deeper.

Your abdomen heats up and prepares for the huge wave of an orgasm. You grip the sheets as it consumes your entire body, all the way to your toes.

"Jake, I'm cumming! I'm fucking cumming !" Your body slowly dies down from the intensity and your lower half starts feeling the sensitivity. Jake stops his movements and proceeds to lick up the mess he caused. You grab his face and force your lips on his, wanting to taste yourself, but mostly express how he just made you feel.

You moan in his mouth, chasing his tongue then pulling back after a few seconds.

"So I'm guessing I did pretty good, huh?" His face is absolutely tomato red and he's cheesing so hard.

"Pretty good ?! You did fucking amazing baby! And the fingers? I didn't expect that at all." You breathlessly laughed. "That was the best oral I've ever gotten. I am so damn serious. That was amazing for it to be your first time."

He can't even form words to express himself, but you can certainly feel it.

"You deserve something for that. Can I suck you, honey?" As you ask, you grab him through his shorts, palming him. He makes a tiny groan before nodding his head. You move from your position and he lies in your place.

Unbuttoning his khakis, you watch him and he watches you. Giving him a reassuring smile, you remove his shorts and rubs both hands on his hard on over his briefs. He balls his fists up and moans slightly.

You finally pull down his briefs to a suprise. His length hits his lower abdomen and you just freeze. One thing he also knew was that he was big. Especially in width.

You try to speak, but nothing comes out.

"Like the angle of the dangle?" You look up at him and he wiggles his eyebrows. You just shake your head laughing. For someone who has a small presence, he has an big present.

"I'm just hoping I can take all of it." And you were being completely straight up. He was really big. Not that you were complaining though.

"I guess we're gonna find out, aren't we?" He was getting really bold after his little performance on you and you were living for it.

"We sure are. Get comfy, baby." He wiggles his back and places his hands behind his head, waiting for your move.

You take the head of him and suck on it with a pop. It was your favorite part. Just swirling your tongue on it's surface got you off. You look up at him and he's already gone.

"Geez, Y/N." His head is thrown back and his toes are curled. You move down on him till his shaft is three quarters in your mouth. You gag on him, which makes you moan. This causes him to jerk his hips up, pushing himself further in you. You quickly bob your head and twist it around all while keeping eye contact.

"Baby, that feels wicked!" You almost laugh at his choice of words, even with tears forming in the bed of your eyelids. He grabs your hair and thrusts himself up in your mouth.

"I think I'm gonna come! Y/N, I'm gonna come! HELP ME!" You pull away from him and pump him while trying to calm him down.

"Jake, baby, it's okay. Just let go for me. Just let it happen. It'll feel so good, I promise." You go back down on him and move your head faster. Not a minture later, do you feel him twitch in your mouth. He let's out a long strain of what sounds like a groan/moan/scream. You feel his warm cum hit the back of your throat and slide down.

You release him from your mouth and get a good look at him, licking your fingers. He's completely disheveled and is clearly not in reality at the moment. You give him a second to come back down and straddle him.

"Oh my fucking goodness." You smile at his adorable reaction. "That," he jerks his head up at you, "was absolutely amazing! Did you swallow it?" He genuinely wonders and its so funny.

"Every last drop," you say, licking the palm of your hand.

"That is just so hot. What the actual shit." You lean down and devour him, desperate to have him inside you now. He grabs your ass and squeezes it, kissing you back.

"Want me to ride you, honey? I can ride you so good. You don't have to do anything. Just lay there and show me you like it, okay?" Again, he just nods, probably still shocked this all is even happening to him.

You rub your pussy, getting it wet all over and grab him, lining it up with your entrance. You slide down, wincing a bit as it stretches your pussy to adjust to his size. Once you're good you set your hands on his broad chest and start moving on him.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're literally squeezing me right now."

"You're so big, baby. I'm trying to take it as best as I can," you moan out, looking back and watch your ass jiggle on his pelvis. He grips your hips and slaps your right cheek, which encourages you to move faster.

"Oh my gosh, you're stretching me so good, Jake. Damn."

"I know that tight little pussy can take me. C'mon babe." You have no idea where he got this talk from, but he's doing it very well. You move so you're bouncing on his lap, skin slapping against his, making large echoes in the room.

"Shit, you're gonna make me cum, Daddy." You were so into it, you didn't realize you let it slip. But he didn't mind not one bit.

"Keep riding Daddy just like that. Want me to fill you up? Want Daddy to cum inside with pretty little pussy?" All you can do it let out a lengthy whine. You bounce harder at his words.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cumm" You let bliss take over you for a moment as you cum all over him. Just as you come down from your climax, Jake starts thrusting in you, chasing his own. You bend down and capture his lips, helping him out. You move down next to his ear, breathing into it.

"Cum for me, honey. I wanna feel you cum inside me. Take what you want." Holding on to his shoulders, Jake adds a few more hard thrusts at your 'encouraging' words.

"That's it, Daddy. Do it just like that for me. Fill my pussy up." And that does it for him. He squeezes your ass one more time before he shoots his load deep inside you. You moan at the feeling of his warm load filling you up. He goes limp, attempting to catch his breath.

You sit up and look at him, smiling proudly.

"Jakey, you did so amazing for me." You kiss his swollen cherry lips. He just sheepishly smiles. You can tell he's impressed with himself.

"I always knew you had it in you. Now it's inside me."

Let's just give a round of applause for Jakey. He learned so fast and so good. 🥺 I love him so much.

masterlist

[starlessea]

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙨 - Prologue 0. Closing Time

Series Masterlist: Step on the Gas

Summary: A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Words: 6286

Chapter Warnings: Language, Injury

The sky was empty — save for one bird.

Daryl watched it fly above him, so close to the ground that he could make out the beating of its wings and swore he saw individual feathers flutter in the breeze.

His fingers itched over his crossbow, as he contemplated shooting it down from the sky and plucking it clean. He'd have something to eat then, at least. Though, for some reason, Daryl Dixon couldn't bring himself to let loose his arrow, watching as the bird soared overhead — and disappeared beyond the trees.

The man sighed as he kicked up some loose stones with the toe of his boot. What a waste, he thought, before trudging through the field once again.

The sky remained cloudless for the rest of the day, existing as a pale, washed-out grey that made Daryl feel uncomfortable as he hunted. The game must have felt the same, since the deer he'd been tracking made itself scarce, and the string of squirrels hanging from his belt seemed no heavier than it had done when the sun rose that morning.

Still, he trekked onwards over the thick, winding grass and through damp forest overgrowth. He was nearly back at the quarry already, but he hardly had anything to show for it. A few measly rodents and a sprained ankle were barely worth his trip in the first place; they sure as hell wouldn't be enough for all of the mouths he now had to feed.

Daryl cursed at himself for hesitating to shoot that bird straight out of the sky, and clip its wings. It wasn't much, but maybe it would have lasted a day if he was lucky. Still, there was no use wondering now, since it had swooped so close to him that he almost felt the downward draft on his cheek — and then he let it fly away.

He thought that it had been a jaeger; it definitely looked like a seabird that had veered too far from the shore. It was a gull with a white breast and dark, blackish feathers — and a wingspan that made sure you couldn't miss it.

He remembered you pointing one out to him, at 3am, parked up on that deserted beach as the two of you stared out into the rocking ocean.

"Ya thinkin' 'bout 'er again, baby brother?"

Daryl could hear Merle's voice taunt, in the deepest, darkest corners of his thoughts.

"Tha' lil' birdie of yours?"

He quickly shook his head — even though it was the truth.

It had been Daryl's own mind that conjured up those words, after all. Merle wasn't actually here. He was probably back at the campsite, lazing about and leering after women far too good for a beaten-up redneck like him.

Though, funnily enough, Merle had said the exact same thing to Daryl when he noticed his gaze settling over the new bar server, who swiped away the froth spilling over from their draught beers. Merle had given him even more of an earful when he realised that his younger brother was waiting for her shift to end.

Daryl took a deep breath, before rolling his neck to try and relieve the tension that had built up there. Once his mind drifted into thoughts of you — even if only for a split second — it often sank to the point of no return.

You were all consuming; you had been from the first time he laid eyes on you in that old, country auto-repair shop.

He remembered the way your voice chirped like a bird's, despite the curses that often fell from your lips.

You even made those sound sweet.

And he could also recall the way you yelled over the rumble of his bike engine, and competed with the screeching that came from his tyres losing their grip on the worn-out tarmac.

You'd told him that it felt like you were flying — and that was probably the reason why Daryl Dixon couldn't shoot that jaeger.

Then, the man heard something louder than he had done since the world ended — and suddenly, the sky was no longer empty.

There was an explosion, and that dull greyness was set alight with brilliant hues of red and orange. It made fire start to rain down upon Daryl, who could only stand and watch below. Debris fell out of the sky like a meteor shower, landing beyond the trees in the distance — to a place that Daryl couldn't quite make out, no matter how much he squinted.

The air became full with the sounds of scraping metal and flickering flames that caught the leaves and made them burn up like the end of a cigarette. Daryl felt his heart race as the adrenaline pumped its way through his veins, and made him flinch each time something crashed heavily to the ground.

There was often a moment in a person's life where their brain got kick-started into gear — and they awoke from whatever auto-pilot they'd been functioning on until that point.

For most, it was probably a mundane milestone like marriage or parenthood.

For others, it might have been a life or death situation that made them re-evaluate their perspective.

For some, it had only happened when the world actually ended, and the apocalypse began.

And perhaps, if Daryl had been a smarter man, it would have been this instant — as he gazed up at the sky and watched it burn above him. Maybe this was his second life-changing realisation; maybe he was lucky enough to get two.

But, for Daryl, the first had just been a regular Tuesday.

The garage was sticky hot that day. It was the kind of heat that made you sweat no matter how many fans you had blowing — since Old man Dean was too cheap to install air conditioning. His boss was a bit of a stickler for paying his bills, and nit picky with his nickles, but he'd always been kind to Daryl.

That being said, working as a mechanic wasn't exactly where Daryl had pictured himself at his age; but then again, he couldn't really picture himself anywhere at all. He felt like that last piece of the jigsaw puzzle, which didn't quite fit in with the others — the one that you had to bend into shape just to make it work.

Sure, he enjoyed seeing the different bikes roll in and out of the shop — those models he would never be able to afford — and Daryl appreciated having a few extra dollars in his pocket for when Merle raided his savings to score some pot.

Besides, there wasn't much else to do in the boonies. Daryl's old man once told him that the only interesting thing to rear its ugly head out of Georgia's backyard in the last fifty years was Dean's Auto Shop. That's probably why Daryl started working there in the first place, as a summer job when he was teenager — and had never really left since.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, his old man had been right about one thing — despite the bastard never catching on to the role of father. He'd been right about the shop being the only interesting thing around.

Because it was the place where he met her.

And then she became the only thing in that small town even worth being interested in.

Daryl didn't hear a car pull up into the shop, but he heard the mumbling outside from where he sat in the breakroom — chewing on some of Dean's leftover pizza that was bordering on stale.

"Dixon, get your ass out here for a second, would you?" the old man yelled, banging on the thin wall that separated them with his fist.

Daryl cursed below his breath, throwing the rest of his food into the trash and dusting off his hands over his jeans. He stepped out into the shop, and was met by an unfamiliar face — looking over at him curiously.

He suddenly felt unexplainably nervous, and dropped his head down to his feet as though it were a reflex he didn't know he had.

"This is your guy," he heard Dean say, before letting out one of his usual chesty coughs.

The man smoked a pack a day too much — and that was coming from Daryl.

"Owner of that bike you've been eyeing, too," he went on.

That caught Daryl's attention, and he instantly glanced up at the woman in question. She was breath-taking, but she also looked very much out of breath. She seemed as though she had run here, despite the Georgia heat.

"You ride?" he asked, but his gruff voice made it sound like more of a demand.

He grimaced at his own tone, but the woman didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

She laughed, and it sounded like nothing he'd ever heard before. "I wish," she said, running her palm along the polished metal and tracing her finger over that shiny logo.

Usually, Daryl would bark at anyone who touched his bike, and Dean seemed as though he expected him to do just that — from the way he raised an eyebrow at the daring woman, too oblivious for her own good.

Except, Daryl stayed quiet.

"Was never allowed within a mile radius of one," she went on, before turning back around to grin at Daryl like it was easy. "My folks were scared I'd take off into the sunset, never to be seen again."

He could relate to that. After all, it was exactly what he and Merle had done as soon as they'd gotten the chance.

"Mhm," he hummed back, before glancing over at the car parked in the middle of the shop. "She's pretty."

It was a steel blue colour — would definitely benefit from a lick of paint, but still pretty nonetheless. The tread looked good on the tyres, and Daryl couldn't see any signs of the rusting those models were prone to. Someone had taken good care of it.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked, and suddenly Daryl was reminded of just how bad he was with words.

He cleared his throat, and ran his hand over the hood.

"Yer car," he explained, "'69 Chevy Camaro?"

Daryl asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Oh yeah, that," she replied, sending him an apologetic look. "It's my grandpa's, so we're going to have to be real discreet about this situation over here."

Daryl raised an eyebrow as she beckoned him to the other side of the car, crouching down near the wheel arch.

"Some bastard left a nail in the road, and I ran straight through the thing like it was a stop sign," she grumbled, pointing out the puncture.

Daryl almost laughed at that — but he was still much too jaded from being caught in the middle of his break.

The woman stood back up and toed the deflated tyre with her boot, scowling at the sight of it.

"I know you're closing soon, but I had to push it half a mile just to get here," she said, and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

Suddenly, her appearance made sense. Since he'd first laid eyes on her, all she'd done was tug at the collar of her vest, and try to stand in front of one of those poor excuses for a fan. But even then, Daryl couldn't quite believe her story.

"Ain't no way ya pushed that thing 'ere by yerself." The words left his mouth before he could consider them twice.

And the look she shot Daryl in return made him want to take them straight back.

But then, she smiled.

"I'm stronger than I look," she protested, leaning against the hot car. "You can ask the dozen assholes who catcalled me on the way but never offered their help."

This time, Daryl did let out a chuckle.

"Damn lucky y'ain't pass out," he quipped back, "heat's no joke."

She grinned again, and Daryl wondered whether she had an endless supply — or if she'd saved them just for him.

"Tell me about it," the woman teased. "Never liked visiting Georgia because of it."

Then, it all made sense to Daryl — the reason why she intrigued him so much.

"Y'ain't from 'round here, are ya?" he asked, surprising himself.

Usually, he couldn't give a 'rat's ass', as Dean called it, about anyone who stumbled into their shop. Never did they get more than a half-hearted greeting from Daryl, or a grunt as he told them to mind their head on that low door frame (she didn't have that problem). Though today, he seemed oddly talkative.

"Haven't seen ya before," he added.

The woman folded her arms over her chest.

"Would you recognise me if you had?" she asked.

"E'erybody knows e'erybody in this place," he answered. "I'd remember if I saw ya cross the street."

It was partially the truth. Daryl knew most people — but he only bothered to remember a select few.

"Moved here last week," she caved, proving him right. "I'm keeping my grandparents company watching daytime cable and doing grocery runs."

Daryl smirked. "An' runnin' over nails with their car, apparently."

"That, too," she confessed.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Daryl realised that he should probably give her a quote for the job. Though, she interrupted him before he could.

"Listen, your new neighbour would be really grateful if you could cut her a break," she said, eyeing the Camaro like she was considering whether it was even worth the hassle. "The old man's going to kill me if I come home on foot tonight."

Daryl knew what she was asking. The notice in the shop window made it clear that they'd be closing in half an hour; Daryl had been all but ready to flip the sign himself. Before she'd arrived, he'd even dared to think that he could shut early — and possibly get to crack open a cold beer and enjoy the breeze of his porch.

He sighed.

"I'll see what I can do," Daryl mumbled, "but I ain't makin' no promises," he warned — as he caught the way her eyes lit up at his words.

But that was a lie. Daryl knew he wouldn't let himself go home until it was finished.

The woman was utterly gleeful. He watched her smile much too widely for her face, and for a moment Daryl thought that she might even jump at him. But she seemed to catch herself at the last second, and abruptly stopped.

She didn't falter long, though. "Thank you, thank you so much!" she said, excitedly, before pausing to tap at her jean pockets. "I don't have any cash on me for a deposit, but I'm heading to work now."

She looked sheepish as she explained herself.

"I'll come straight back and pay in full," she added, trying her best to convince him.

Daryl narrowed his eyes like he didn't quite understand. Then he did, and he laughed properly.

"Deposit?" he asked, shaking his head. "City girl, here we jus' keep yer vehicle if ya can't pay."

The woman's expression was priceless. She looked as though she couldn't figure out whether he was joking or not, and stared at Daryl with her mouth slightly agape as she debated which it was.

He couldn't watch any longer.

"Where ya workin'?" he asked.

Then, he cursed himself for doing so. Time was ticking on, and he already had to stay overtime because of his inability to say no. Well, usually he had no problem with the word; it just seemed like it was stuck in his throat today.

"Joe's bar," she replied. "It's a few blocks over and-"

"I know Joe's bar," Daryl interrupted.

Everybody knew Joe's. It was the only place around that sold a decent draught beer. He'd been going there since he was a teenager — younger than he should have been, but old enough to know better.

"Me an' my brother go there a lot, but I ain't seen you 'round."

She nodded.

"Only started a few days ago. Hopefully they don't fire me for being late."

Daryl glanced at the clock. It was approaching his closing time and her opening one.

"Ya better get runnin', Camaro," he noted, tapping at his watch that didn't even work. "Rush hour soon."

The woman narrowed her eyes at the nickname. Daryl didn't know her real one yet, and felt like it was too late to ask for it. He'd have to catch a glimpse of Dean's log book later to find out.

"Will do," she replied with a smile. "Thanks again, Dixon."

Though Daryl couldn't quite work out how she knew his name, either.

He watched her scurry about collecting her things, and walked her to the entrance. The sun was starting to set — leaving the sky a pinkish orange that only made him squint the more he looked at it. He held the door open for the woman, and heard Dean snort from the back of the shop. But the way she thanked him made it worth the teasing.

"Take care of that sixties Honda," she winked, "she's a real beauty."

Daryl was surprised that she knew the model of his bike, considering she'd never even ridden one.

"If only ya knew," he mumbled back as he saw her off. "Will take ya for a ride one time if yer willin'."

She stopped in place. Daryl didn't know why he said that. It had just slipped from his mouth like oil from a can.

The woman laughed and rolled her eyes like she didn't believe him.

"That's what they all say."

Then, she started to jog down the street — just like she said she would — and Daryl thought her crazy for even attempting it in this midsummer Georgia weather. That woman had entered the shop like a whirlwind, and when she left Daryl couldn't remember what he'd even been doing before.

Dean cleared his throat and threw a rag at him that he barely managed to catch.

"Keep it in your pants, boy."

Daryl scowled at the man; he knew him better than that. So, he didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply, and instead got started on setting the Camaro up on a jack.

"She's a beauty, I get it," Dean went on, despite his silence. "Her type don't belong in a place like this, that's for damn sure."

Daryl had to agree with him there. He'd gotten a glimpse of his reflection in the wing mirror of her car and grimaced. He had grease on his face, and part of him cursed Dean for not telling him before he'd left the breakroom.

"But you know Mike and Doreen?" the old man asked, and Daryl nodded. "That's their granddaughter."

Daryl furrowed his brow — not realising he'd done it until he caught himself in the glass once again. Mike was a hard man, the type to straighten out any kinks in a person with brute force and that baby boomer spite.

"She may be real pretty, kid, but that one's trouble," Dean noted, confirming his suspicions.

He ignored the way he called him 'kid'. The old man still hadn't grown out of the habit — despite Daryl being well beyond his teenage years now.

"Trouble?" he repeated, like he couldn't quite comprehend the word being associated with someone like that.

Dean chuckled — but it turned into one of those coughs that made Daryl wince.

"Maybe more so than you," he said. "Got kicked out of the military, I heard."

Daryl spat at the floor, and Dean laughed again. They both hated those military dogs who often paraded through their town, looking at them as though they were trash beneath their government-issued boots.

But, if she'd been kicked out then maybe they could find some common ground.

Old man Dean wagged his finger at him, recognising Daryl's no-good expression; he'd become familiar with it by now, from all the times he'd worn it throughout the years.

"So don't go losing your head over her, Dixon," he cautioned, pretending not to know how good Daryl was at throwing caution to the wind.

"And remember to close up before you leave."

But it was too late.

Daryl had already lost his head, and his heart — but he wouldn't know that the latter was missing for a very long time.

You ran the cloth along the oak bar surface, wiping away any sticky beer rings that had been left there.

This is why we have coasters, you sighed.

It had been a slow Tuesday night, but you'd somehow still been roped into working the close. You tried to tell your boss that you were having car troubles, and had plans to stop by the garage on your way home — but he seemed to prioritise his own date over yours.

Well, you wouldn't exactly call giving the local mechanic his cheque a date; usually, you didn't have to pay for those. But you couldn't deny how it had made you feel when he smiled that smile your way — so small that you'd almost missed it — before you took off running out the door.

It gave you whiplash.

Perhaps he was just being friendly. But, then again, he didn't seem like the naturally friendly type. You shook your head, throwing the beer-soaked rag into the sink. You didn't trust that man in the slightest.

That wasn't a new development, really; you didn't trust most men. And, you often found that the ones who made your heart race like that were the worst of them all. He was trouble, that one, and you'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.

You untied the double knot of your apron, and folded it up neatly. There were a few whiskey stains on it — you'd caught a whiff of that top-shelf scent a few times now — but you were already too late to even consider putting it in the wash. Instead, you left it at the end of the bar, and swapped it out for the ring of keys lying there.

It was closing time, and you prepared yourself to run three blocks in the dark. You stepped out into the night, feeling the cool breeze on your cheek as opposed to the midday heat that had been there when your shift started. You flipped the latch and turned the key in the lock until you heard it click.

Then, you held them between your knuckles so that the jagged edge poked out.

"Ya done for the night?" a voice came from the shadows, and your heart dropped.

That brief second lasted a lifetime as the blood rushed to your ears like a strong current through running water, and your grip tightened over those keys. But then, you noticed the reflection in the glass panels of the door — and relaxed.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me," you scolded the man, "thought you were a dejected patron tryna jump me or something."

Perhaps he was; you still didn't know any better.

Dixon was leaning against that dingy brick wall, opposite the back door of Joe's Bar. You didn't even know what that other building was — but some sketchy figures usually loomed about it, so you tried to stay clear.

Maybe he didn't get the memo, you thought.

"Tha' happen before?" the man asked back, casually.

Though, the dim street lights overhead illuminated his face, and you caught a glimpse of his serious expression before he let it drop. He held a lit cigarette between his fingers — almost smoked down to the butt already — and it made you wonder just how long he'd been waiting for you.

"Maybe once or twice," you laughed, but it didn't sound as natural as you had intended.

You noticed the man's eyes flicker down towards the keys held between your knuckles, and you quickly slipped them into your jean pocket — hoping that he wouldn't pry. Luckily, he didn't seem like the type to unnecessarily butt into other people's business.

The smoke trailed from his lips and caught the stark light of the street lamp. He almost looked cold — bathed in that bluish tint which made those cigarette fumes seem nearly luminescent.

"You here to make sure I don't run off with your paycheck?" you teased, fishing out the wad of bills from your back pocket.

You waved them at him, and considered how precarious the situation may seem to an onlooker if they happened to pass by. The man looked as though he felt the same, since he quickly glanced over his shoulder down the alleyway — checking to make sure you were alone.

"Don't worry, Dixon, I busted my ass tonight just so I could leave you a nice tip," you said with a smile, handing the money to him.

He took it, slowly, as though he had to remind himself what it was even for.

Then, he let that cigarette butt fall to the floor, and stamped it out with his boot — before dragging it along the concrete until it was nothing but embers.

The man shook his head at you. "'M here on behalf of the welcome committee."

You snorted as you processed his words, and followed him out of that narrow alleyway into the main street.

"Bullshit," you called, "as if-"

You rounded the corner after him, and stopped. He was there, leaning against that pristine sixties Honda bike — spare helmet in hand.

It was parked up on the sidewalk, polished metal glinting in all its glory under those neon lamps. Dixon was almost camouflaged against it — his black leather jacket also speckled with white light. He held out that helmet, as if it were an invitation he was waiting for you to accept.

But he seemed shy — as though acutely aware that it was only an invite, and nothing more. So, you took it, and shook your head as you realised that it wasn't his spare helmet he had offered you; it was his only helmet.

"Said I'd take ya," he murmured, fastening the strap gently under your chin.

It was too big, so the man compensated by tying it tighter until you felt like your jaw was wired shut. But, you just smiled.

"An' I ain't no liar," he said when he was done, and kicked his leg over the bike.

Then, you sped off into the night.

You yelled over the sound of the engine for him to go faster, and laughed as you had to spit out the stray hairs that had blown into your mouth. Your clothes whipped in the wind, too, and you clung to the man in front of you as though you were afraid they might catch the draft, and make you fly away. It was electrifying; your whole body felt like pure static as you rode past shop displays and windows that made your reflections look like hazed blurs.

That whole trip felt like a hazed blur, really, because suddenly you were there.

"Where are we?" you asked, unsure of where 'there' even was. "Why'd we stop?"

You pulled the helmet from your head and cocked your leg over the bike. The man let out a chuckle at the sight of your hair, sticking up from the static — as though lightning might strike at any moment.

"Smoke break," Dixon grumbled, before coaxing out the squashed cardboard packet from his jeans. "You want one?" he asked, offering it to you.

You shook your head; you didn't smoke.

He shrugged in response, cupping his hands to his face to get a flame from his lighter. You left him to it, and turned away from the bike to catch the view.

And what a view it was, indeed.

You hadn't even noticed the sounds of the lapping ocean waves before you saw them. The cliff overlooked the beach below, desolate, with a high tide that drew the shore into you. Your grandmother had told you about this place once, on the phone a few months back as she tried to sell rural Georgia to you.

It wasn't like you were given much of a choice, anyway.

But now that you'd been shipped out here — against your will, no doubt — you had to admit that she'd been partly right. It was breath-taking. Back in the city, a place like this would be littered with beer cans and tacky, disposable barbeques within a week of someone posting about it online. Here, however, it looked untouched.

It was as though the two of you were the first to ever set foot here, on this particular crag that overlooked the waves — leaving your footprints alongside tyre treads for the next pioneers to discover.

You glanced back at Dixon over your shoulder — who was busy trying to look as though he wasn't already looking at you — and smiled.

He was one hell of a welcome committee.

Daryl almost choked on the fumes of his cigarette — letting out a cough that reminded him of the way old man Dean spluttered in the mornings. He really needed to kick that habit, he thought, and snubbed out his cigarette on the ground.

Then, you scowled at him, so he picked the butt back up and stuffed it into his pocket, grimacing at the thought of having to clean it up later.

He had been lying about the smoke break, really, but then he needed to carry out his excuse. Initially, he'd only thought about picking you up from the bar and offering you a ride back to the shop. He hadn't the slightest clue of how that plan had become this.

Somewhere along the way, Daryl might have accidentally taken a wrong turn, and ended up in the most scenic place he would think of. Stupid damn street signs, he cursed, as though he hadn't driven those roads a hundred times before.

Camaro seemed to call him out on his bluff, too, since she turned to face him and immediately shook her head.

"You're lying," she said, as though she were certain, "but the view is extraordinary, so I'll forgive you just this once."

Daryl swallowed thickly, tasting the tobacco that had made his throat so dry. For someone who claimed himself not to be a liar, that was all he seemed to be doing today.

Then, he watched you make your way towards the edge of that cliff, like you couldn't even hear him warning you to be careful. It was like you weren't paying him the slightest attention. Daryl was used to that from women — but somehow, this was different.

You didn't look down on him, nor at him with any hint of prejudice for wearing jeans still coated in oil, and boots he'd had to tape the soles of just to keep them together. In fact, you weren't looking at him at all. You seemed far more concerned with the stars that flickered in the night sky above you, but at the same time grateful towards the man for having brought you to them.

"You treat all your customers like this, Dixon?" you asked him.

He watched you turn around and look at him like you'd only just remembered that he was there. But, then you beamed a smile at him so bright that it put the stars to shame — and made all of your other ones look dim in comparison.

"Y'ain't special," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Jus' given' ya a lift home 'cos Dean told me to."

Though, Dean had left the shop hours ago.

Daryl watched you laugh like you'd caught him out one more time.

"There you go again," you said, teasingly. "Do you ever tell the truth?"

No, he didn't. He always tried to, but oftentimes it never did him any good. The people of this town had already made the assumption that he was a natural born liar. You were the first person to ever make the distinction between his white lies and those other types.

All his life, Daryl had been pigeon-holed into the role of good for nothing redneck, and had only recently graduated to the slightly less stereotyped town mechanic. But that night it was as if someone, for the first time, tried to get a peek at whatever was underneath.

Old man Dean was right. You were trouble — but not for the reason he had said. You were trouble because you seemed entirely unaware of your place in the world, and it made Daryl start to question his own. You seemed nice — perhaps even lovely — but Daryl never trusted those types. He knew you were far too good to be wasting away the early hours of the morning with the likes of him — and it left him wondering what exactly you wanted.

You'd already paid for his services, after all.

"Thank you for letting me see the stars again," you breathed, stretching your neck which ached from staring at the sky. "It's been a while."

Back then, Daryl didn't quite understand what that meant. He'd thought perhaps that you'd been talking about city pollution.

On the way back, Daryl felt you cling onto him tightly as he drove through empty roads, and passed the old, flickering street lights that blinked like camera flashes. But, when his fingers accidentally brushed up against yours, as you both reached for the shop door, you pulled your hand away.

It had only been a random Tuesday — that had eventually rolled into a Wednesday by the time he'd gotten you back into your repaired Camaro — but that was the moment in his life where Daryl felt like he had finally woken up.

But even awake, he often found himself lost in daydreams of the woman who crash landed into his life, and disappeared from it just as quickly as she came.

Daryl followed the trail of debris that had fallen from the sky, as though he were tracking some giant, metal bird. He didn't want to stick around too long, given that the noise had probably attracted every damn walker in the area; he just hoped that he was still far enough away from camp that they wouldn't be drawn there.

He stepped over the hunks of hot wreckage, some of it still ablaze, until he eventually came across something soft and not made of metal.

It was that jaeger. It was dead.

It looked as though it had been struck straight out of the sky. Its feathers lay scattered around it — the white breast now red with blood — and its wing was bent at a crooked angle, broken.

Daryl scowled. If he'd known that it was going to have such a meaningless death, then he would have shot it himself. Though, he still didn't add the bird to his string of dead animals; he thought that it had suffered enough.

He continued onwards through the brush until he stumbled across what he'd been looking for. But even as he saw it with his own eyes, Daryl couldn't quite believe it. Before him was the husk of a downed helicopter, burning in the middle of the forest.

Immediately, he ran to it, tripping over the wreckage as it got thicker and harder to navigate.

Though, there was no pilot inside — only radios and machinery parts that Daryl didn't know the names of. They screeched high frequency sounds as they caught on fire, and it made his ears ring the longer he listened.

So, he turned back.

That was when he saw it — them — a few meters away. His stomach dropped. Guess that's the pilot, he thought, looking up at the body tangled in the trees.

He'd never seen a parachute in real life before — only ever in the movies. He'd also never understood how that flimsy material could stop someone from plummeting to their death.

Well, in this case it hadn't.

The pilot was dangling from one of the branches, all caught up in those wire cables like a fish on a line. The limbs were contorted awkwardly, and Daryl swallowed thickly at the sight of their arm which had definitely been broken — reminding him of that miserable jaeger's wing.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave. The smell of burning rubber and the white noise from those radios would probably keep him up for the next few nights, but there was nothing he could do about that.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave, but then the body spoke to him.

"Dixon?" he heard it gasp.

And Daryl wondered just how many impossible things he might encounter today.

The voice startled him, and he almost stumbled over his own foot in return. Walkers couldn't speak, and they surely wouldn't know his name, either. Then, he caught the slightest movement, and recognised a jacket much too familiar. It had been his, after all, before he'd given it to you.

The pilot groaned, and Daryl recognised that tone of voice, too. He quickly fumbled about for his pocket knife, not even stopping to consider how the hell he'd be able to cut you down.

He couldn't even comprehend how you were alive-

"How's it hanging?" the voice spluttered.

-and how you'd kept that same god awful sense of humour.

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