Mallow Flowers (1)

Malva sylvestris: Mallow carries many symbolic meanings that overlap, including romantic interest, healing, and survival in tough conditions.

(a/n) This is my first TWD fic but I've been watching the series for a while :) This post will also continue into a series, thankyou so much for reading and any feedback is appreciated (a/n end)

You don't know how long it had been since the world fell apart, days? weeks? months? It didn't matter, all you could focus on was the burning in your feet and shins, and the painful cramp in your ribs. The sun beamed down through the trees, what was once a beautiful green canopy you could find solace in, now obstacles as you ran through the woods, forcing yourself to keep going against your body's will. In some desperate attempt to ignore its pleas your mind went to anything it could, and that was the cause of the world’s fall. You had never been religious but you thought if there was a god, he had one fucked up sense of humor to bring the dead back to life. Though as if he heard you, an unearthed root caught your worn down sneakers and sent you tumbling head first down a hill.

Finally your body came to a stop, more bruised than before, a stinging cut adorning the bridge of your nose, you're pretty sure it's broken. A groan left your lungs and you shifted to get up, but you were barely able to lift your hands more than a few inches off the muddy soil. Muddy… OH MY GOD. Mud, the sign that there was a stream in reach. As soon as the promise of water reached your cloudy mind, so did the scratchy feeling in your mouth and throat, that small stream suddenly became your goal, a life line to reach for.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Hand gripping the earth, slightly pushing your body up slowly, following the rhythm of your now caught breath. It was agonizing, not the physical pain, but the sound of running water, that couldn't be more than ten feet away, but was miles out of reach. Though you were never one to give up, not when you were little, not when your teenage self thought being happy was impossible, and definitely not now, not when your life depended on it when your life depended on it.

“Dad this is impossible, can't we just stop for today?”

The wooden bow clutched that had fired arrows anywhere but the red not in the middle of the target. You knew it was possible to let go of that string and had the sharpened tip make a bullseye. You've seen it done many times, even by the tall man next to you, but in your hands it felt like you were destined to fail.

“It ain't impossible y/n, you just need practice more, if you give up now y'all know if the next arrow you shoot i'll be the one to hit that target”

His eyes met yours, and they held the same look they did whenever you tried to give up, the encouragement and strictness that kept you trying.

You hadn't hit a bullseye that day, but you went out the next and the next until that red dot no longer seemed like a threat, but an achievable target you had learned to concur.

Each movement felt like dragging a weight behind you, the overexertion, sleep deprivation, and over all malnourishment was catching up. You didn't know you had crossed what felt like the Oregon trail to the stream until the cuts on your hands stung slightly at the cool liquid. It didn't take long for you to dunk your face into it, all reasonable thought gone as you scooped water into your mouth with your hands, stomach hurting from the odd feeling of not being completely empty. Laying back to face the sky you felt as though for the first time since the end, you weren't completely fucked. You knew you weren't safe, not with the dead walking, but that didn't stop your lead heavy eyelids from betraying you and falling closed.

Dreams have meanings, hell theres books about it. But you didn't quite know what a dream about a crossbow wielding man carrying you away from the stream you passed out is supposed to symbolize. Maybe he was sometime of guardian angel here to bring you to the afterlife? Who knows, if he is, at least your guardian angel's handsome

Fun fact of the post: I just got broken up with (^-^)

Five More Minutes

Daryl x Gn!Reader Drabble

The sun streamed through the shades covering you two from the outside world and illuminated the face of the man next to you. He was still sleeping, but you knew he would be up soon as the sun was just emerging from the horizon. His arm had found you in the night and was now draped across your middle, holding you in the embrace you have found comfort in so many times.

Quiet moments where hard to come by in the apocalypse, so you cherished these few minutes of peace in you and Daryl's shared before starting the day.

The subtle rise and fall of his chest and his closed eyes was the calmest you ever saw him, and you tried to memorize every detail of his face in these minutes before life started up again.

Soon enough the urge to let him sleep was over run by the urge to touch him, and your hand moved from its position next to you and traveled his dark umber locks, pushing a few messy strands away from his face. Daryls nose twitched at the movement and his fingers tightened around your side, almost reassuring himself you where actually there before he blearily opened his eyes. As soon as he did his eyes closed again in a yawn.

"Morning sleeping beauty" You chided.

Daryl grumbled slightly but you could see the ghost of a smile hinting at his lips.

"Mornin'" His gravely voice was quiet, still weighed down by sleep. Arms stretching as he made a move to get up for the day his hand leaves your side and you frowed.

"Can't we just stay in bed a little longer?" You knew you both had jobs and duties to attend to, but you couldn't help yourself from wanting just five more minutes in bed with Daryl. After a second of silence he let his body fall back onto the bed next to you.

"If someone's pissed I's late to the council meeting m' blamin' you" He draped his arm around you again and you gladly cuddled into the comfort of his chest.

"Fair trade"

Misha Collins posting Cas is gay and destiel canon across all his social media.

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digitallangell

4 months ago

Just tried to play an ancient flute and it started filling the room with this awful miasma that wont go away

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digitallangell

1 year ago

₊˚⊹｡ it's a match! | itadori yuuji

wc: 1.8k

summary: the guy you match with on a dating app is too good to be true.

contains: gn!reader, non-curse au, athletic trainer yuuji, dating apps, megumi and nobara cameos

a/n: this is such a projection of my insane attraction for yuuji + a few songs i associate with this fic and him: mariposa - peach tree rascals, sunshine - kyle, miguel, sunkissed - khai dreams

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event prompt: finally saying yes to that nice guy you’re afraid is too good to be true

Itadori Yuuji. Athletic Trainer. 24. Loves dogs, exploring nature, cheat day meals, and a good workout!

Pink hair, wide eyes, bright smile—the kind that can’t possibly be rehearsed; the photo on your screen is candid, edges blurred by movement but the center clearly in focus.

He’s cute, you think. Enough for you to scroll further down to get to know more about him.

The second photo you land on is definitely something; your eyes widen and you swear you hear yourself gulp a little. On your screen, crouched low, is this same Itadori Yuuji smiling in between a golden retriever and a husky; he has an arm wrapped around each dog, bringing them close as their tongues stick out in the summer heat.

And you’re pretty sure it’s summer because this Itadori Yuuji guy also happens to be shirtless, towel slung around his neck as strands of pink hair cling to the sweat on his forehead. That, and the trees behind him glisten underneath the sunlight—vibrant green.

Considering the bigger picture, the photo is adorable. Cool. Absolutely heartwarming even.

But your brain is still trying to process how someone who looks like he volunteers at retirement homes can be so… ripped.

You scroll some more.

And after two question prompts, one muscle tee gym photo (which is way more attractive than shirtless, by the way), and one group photo–a girl with short hair and a pretty boy with unruly black hair–, you’ve concluded that this Itadori Yuuji guy is a picture-perfect example of a kind of boy-next-door.

You say kind of because you learn that his ‘typical sunday’ is waking up at dawn to take his and his bestfriend’s dogs out for a hike. You also say kind of because the most surprising fact about him is that he’s been a stunt double because he knows how to do parkour.

It feels like an illusion, as if someone so down-to-earth and seemingly friendly, living just eight kilometres away from you is being dangled right under your nose.

He’s way too good to be true.

So when you press ‘like’ to his answer for the prompt ‘typical sunday’ and comment, “Cool! Are these the same dogs as the one in your photo?”, you definitely do not expect to be matched a few minutes later.

To your surprise, you and Yuuji get along swimmingly.

There’s a reason dating apps are not messaging apps, and you both find out when your chat page begins to lag after a series of 100+ messages in the span of 10 minutes.

So, you swap numbers.

And it’s good—way too good.

It’s unbelievable how easy it is to talk to him, how fun. There’s never an awkward lull and he always replies enthusiastically, never too late and never too early. If others are walls, Yuuji is a trampoline—bouncing off your energy and returning what you throw at him.

You learn that not only is he a kind of boy-next-door, but a golden retriever boy too. And you don’t really know what to do or how to feel about that realization.

5:47 p.m.

Itadori Yuuji

> [attachment]

> cheat meal today!!

The attachment opens to a photo of him using french fries as a moustache, along with a giant burger set on a plate in front of him. Despite the very obvious distraction of his biceps flexing while his arms cross in front of his chest, you chuckle and roll your eyes.

It’s an inside joke—kind of. You mentioned once that you only found out when you were 13 that french fries did not in fact come from the French.

5:48 p.m.

< ha ha ha 🙄

You straighten up in your chair, stretching your back until you hear it crack.

< late lunch or early dinner?

5:49 p.m.

Itadori Yuuji

> late lunch!

> had the whole team in a while ago then got a workout in right after!

5:50 p.m.

< good reward?

5:50 p.m.

Itadori Yuuji

> good enough

> would be better with some company though!

Herein lies the problem.

You stare at your screen, biting your bottom lip as you watch the little bubble move as he types.

5:51 p.m.

Itadori Yuuji

> only if you aren’t busy or anything!!

This is the second time Yuuji has tried to ask you out in the month and a half of you both talking; the first time was just completely wrong timing, but this one—you have nowhere else to be and you actually can go to him.

5:54 p.m.

Itadori Yuuji

> no pressure!!

And yet—

Your fingers move faster than you can think.

5:55 p.m.

< still caught up at work, sorry 😞

< next time!!

You can’t even explain why you feel so hesitant to meet him.

5:56 p.m.

< eat enough for the both of us for now 😌

—you groan, dropping your forehead down on your desk.

To be honest, you aren’t sure what to call the fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Is it butterflies? Nerves kicking in? Fear?

5:57 p.m.

Itadori Yuuji

> that’s okay!! i ordered a milkshake too

> i’ll drink it in your spirit 🫡

It’s confusing, because he’d confessed that he’s never done dating apps before, isn’t so sure how it goes; that his friend was solely responsible for the creation of his account because why not?

He’d admitted that he wasn’t too keen on it because he wasn’t really looking, but he’s glad he agreed because otherwise, he wouldn’t have met you.

And you think, for someone who ‘isn’t so sure how it goes’, he’s actually pretty smooth.

So, maybe you have trust issues.

And maybe, he’s just so sweet—about this, about everything, that you can’t figure out if he’s just really nice or if he’s flirting.

“Kugisaki, I think I’m being rejected.”

“Huh?” Nobara looks up midbite, face scrunching into confusion. Megumi raises his eyebrow from the side.

“Yeah,” Yuuji shrugs, pouting as he swirls his chopsticks around, “maybe they don’t like me that way. Why else would they be avoiding a meet-up?”

Nobara clears her throat, setting her chopsticks down as she straightens her back against the booth. Her fingers clasp together on the desk.

“Itadori.”

Yuuji looks up as Nobara shoots him a look.

“No.”

Megumi slurps on his soup.

“Phone.” Nobara reaches an arm out, palm up as she waits.

Once she grabs a hold of the device, she taps on his text thread with you, scrolling up and up and up as if to prove a point. For even more evidence, she goes to your socials, reading the exchange of compliments you both have left on each other’s Instagram stories.

“Maybe they just see me as a friend, you know?”

“Itadori, I did not curate your profile for someone to tap on it because they ‘see you as a friend’.”

The table is quiet—even Megumi’s stopped eating, cheek resting on his palm.

“You cannot tell me that someone tapped on your profile after seeing that bait photo of you with your dog and Fushiguro’s dog because they wanted to ‘just be friends’.”

Yuuji has nothing else to say, eyes wide and mouth completely shut as Nobara goes on to explain (air quotes and all) how his profile is the quintessential design of a boy-next-door who anyone is bound to fall for.

Only when she’s done, having exposed every single detail about your relationship (friendship?) that Yuuji never even knew she knew, does Megumi speak.

“I wouldn’t be talking to someone everyday for three months straight if I didn’t like them that way.”

You’re horrible.

Yuuji should honestly just stop talking to you at this point.

You’ve declined a meet-up three times for god’s sake.

Each time, he’s been so nice about it too, telling you that it’s okay, you don’t need to worry about it. That he’ll definitely treat you to a big meal when you finally do meet—to make up for all the wrong timings.

He’s not the problem, it’s you.

Yuuji hasn’t replied to your text since yesterday, and you honestly wouldn’t blame him if he completely stopped because, why bother if his advances have been blocked every single time anyway?

You’d get it, would completely understand if he ghosted you now.

But… there’s no denying the way your stomach drops when you think about it.

You’ve clicked open your phone five times in the past 10 minutes, and every time it vibrates, you rush to check it, hoping it’s him.

This is the last time, you swear to yourself—the sign.

If he asks you again one more time, you’ll finally do it. No more excuses, no more chickening out at the last minute.

(You pray to whatever god is out there that he does.

And just as you’re about to go to bed, a notification pops up)

12:03 a.m.

Itadori Yuuji

> hey! slr!! someone on the team got injured so we had to rush him in

> it was a whole thing

> but i hope your back’s doing better! are the stretches i sent helping?

12:05 a.m.

Itadori Yuuji

> also no pressure at all but there’s a game this saturday in our area

> was wondering if you’d like to drop by?

> no worries if you’re busy though!

> just let me know so i can get a pass for you 🫡

The cafe you agreed to meet at is busier than you expected, ceramics clinking and the coffee machines working double time as an influx of customers line up by the cashier.

You’re thankful for the noise, the endless chatter around you drowning out each rapid pulse of your heart beat.

Do you bow? Shake his hand? Wave?

You’re so nervous, you might not even get a word in at all.

It should be any minute now, based on his texts.

You do your best to distract yourself, looking around the cafe and fiddling with the straps of your bag.

But the doors swing open, and you turn to see who’s come in—

It’s him. Itadori Yuuji in the flesh.

The guy you’ve spent the past few months talking to, laughing at his jokes and sharing pieces of your day-to-day with.

As he looks around for you, you take a few minutes to soak in this moment. Still too good to be true: black polo shirt hugging the expanse of his chest, his pink hair styled boyishly; there’s a natural brightness to him that draws you in, almost like his personality shines outward, charming you the more you look at him.

—and when your gazes meet, he smiles, eyes crinkling, lighting up at the sight of you as he raises his hand and finally, waves.

You don’t know what took you so long to finally say yes, but thank god you did.

Because aside from all the qualities that make him a kind of boy-next-door and a golden retriever boy all packed in one, you’re becoming well aware that Itadori Yuuji’s biggest asset is the way his ass looks tight, hugged snuggly by his pants as you watch from the stands.

a/n: coming up with this idea was so much fun that there's a bunch of lore i wasn't able to include! like: 1) megumi hates yuuji's music and definitely told him to never mention it out of fear that he’ll be rejected even more, 2) yuuji has received messages asking 'who's your friend?' 'is he single?' on the group photo with nobara and megumi, 3) he definitely stunt doubled for sukuna

thank you notes: to @augustinewrites for literally feeding me inspiration for this entire plot omfg this is lowkey her brainchild too & for helping me with dating app research along with @ufo-ikawa 🥺 ily both + @mysugu @soumies for of course listening to me ramble abt this, as you both do with everything else i talk about 😭

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

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digitallangell

2 months ago