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dixons-sunshine · 4 months ago

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Hope | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl never would’ve expected that the universe would grant him you, the love of his life, much less a child of his own to love and care for. So when your daughter was born, Daryl felt truly overwhelmed. However, it happened to be one of the best days of his life.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of childbirth, insecurities.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble but it got longer than I expected lol. I hope y’all like this!

Daryl was in complete awe. His heart was pounding out of his chest. His palms were extremely sweaty. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to say or do other than stand motionless and stare. Daryl was a quiet guy, but never before in his life had something rendered him completely speechless quite like this momentous occasion; the birth of his daughter.

It had been a good thirty, maybe forty minutes since the cries of his newborn baby flooded his ears, and he hadn’t been able to say or do anything except look at her and try to wrap his mind around the fact that he was a dad, that he had a daughter now. His baby girl. He was feeling overwhelmed by everything. He had read every pregnancy and parenting book he could get his hands on since you had told him you were pregnant, yet none of them could have ever prepared him for the actual experience. None of them could prepare him for the wave of emotions that flooded through his being when his daughter’s first cries filled the air. None of them could prepare him for the absolute certainty that filled him—he would kill anyone who’d dare hurt his baby girl.

“Dar? You still with me?”

The sound of your angelic voice snapped him from his train of thought. “Hm?” he hummed in acknowledgement, forcing himself to pay attention to his surroundings. He was sitting on a chair beside the bed in your home, courtesy of Carol’s kindness. She had taken one look at the archer during your labouring process and had cleverly noticed that he would faint if he didn’t sit down. Thankfully, the crossbow-wielding archer had stayed lucid during the birth, although he was certain that the bones in his hand were cracked from the force you had bestowed on them while you were pushing.

You chuckled fondly as you looked at him through tired, half lidded eyes. “You okay?” you asked him, wincing slightly when you shifted slightly to get more comfortable, the effects of the birth making themselves known to you. Your daughter was busy nursing, her adorable, eager, breathy suckles and gulps the only other sound that could be heard throughout the otherwise quiet room. Carol and Siddiq had left the room ten minutes prior, leaving you and Daryl alone to bond with your new baby.

Daryl cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair, giving you his full attention. “M’pretty sure I should be askin’ ya that. Yer the one that pushed a baby out, not me.”

You chuckled again and nodded. “Yeah, I was. And I’m okay. I’m sore, but that was a given. Nothing we could’ve done to prevent the pain.” Your smile dropped a little, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you looked at your husband. “But seriously, are you okay? You seem a little... out of it.”

Daryl let out a small sigh. “M’jus’ a touch overwhelmed, I s’pose, but it ain’t nothin’ I can’t get over. S’jus’... Hearin’ her cries, and seein’ her... I don’ know. It made me realize that it wasn’t a dream. That this is real. That we’re really doin’ this, startin’ a family. S’a bit surreal to me, I guess. ‘Fore all’a this, ‘fore I met ya, when I was jus’ bummin’ it out with my brother, I never would’ve thought that I’d be doin’ this.”

You intently listened to his words, a small, understanding smile gracing your tired features. “Are you scared?”

“Ya kiddin’? M’fuckin’ terrified. I don’ wanna screw it up. I don’ wanna fail either’a ya. If I do... I don’ know what I’d do with myself,” Daryl confessed in a low whisper, his voice cracking towards the end.

Your heart went out for your partner. You were well aware of his fears. You were also well aware of the fact that no amount of reassuring would make his fears go away overnight. However, what you did know was that there was something you could do that could potentially make him feel better at that moment.

“Do you wanna hold her?” you asked him softly, your eyes locking onto his cerulean eyes.

Yes. Daryl definitely wanted to hold her. However, as his eyes trailed down to the small, fragile being that had seemingly had enough to eat and instead opted to slightly wiggle around in your embrace, a new set of worry overcame him.

“Yer sure?” he asked unsurely. “I ain’t gon’ break her or nothin’?”

A light laugh escaped your chest. “I promise you’re not going to break her. You’ll be fine, I promise. Come here. And maybe unbutton your shirt, if you’re comfortable.” Daryl furrowed his eyebrows at that last part, but understood when you explained it to him. “Skin to skin contact helps with bonding. At least, that’s what Carol told me. You don’t have to unbutton your shirt all the way. Just a bit is fine.”

“What ‘bout...” Daryl trailed off, vaguely motioning to his chest. He didn’t need to specify what he was talking about. You instantly knew. His scars.

You sent him a reassuring smile. “She’ll love you regardless, Dar, just like me. Nothing’s gonna change that. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Daryl hesitated but ultimately stood up from the chair, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to a little over halfway, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “Remember to support her head.” Daryl nodded and slowly and gently accepted the baby into his embrace, heeding your advice and supporting her tiny head.

Daryl’s awe multiplied by one hundred when he held his baby girl in his arms for the first time. Her tiny head was practically the same size as his hand. Her tiny body lightly pressed against his scarred flesh as Daryl held her, and the archer couldn’t help the small laugh of wonder that escaped him. “She’s so small... She’s so damn small.” One of his fingers lightly traced over her tiny hand, and Daryl smiled when she lightly gripped his finger in her small fist. “She’s got quite the grip, too, and she ain’t even a day old yet. Real strong for her age, I reckon.”

“Definitely,” you agreed with a smile, slowly shifting your body to rest your chin on his shoulder, one of your hands coming up to softly trace over your daughter’s cheek. “She’s so perfect.”

“Jus’ like her mama.” Daryl turned his attention to you, placing a soft, tender kiss on your forehead.

You didn’t argue with his words, instead simply accepting the compliment with a small smile. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, simply observing your little girl as she slowly fell asleep in her father’s arms. However, Daryl soon broke the silence again.

“Hope.”

You lifted your chin from his shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Her name,” he began to explain. “I think we should call her Hope. S’what I feel when I look at her. Jus’ feels right.”

You smiled at him, before turning your attention back to your daughter. “Welcome to the world, Hope Dixon. I love you so much,” you whispered to her softly, quietly acknowledging Daryl’s choice of a name. Hope. It was perfect.

Daryl sent you a small smile. “S’got a nice ring to it. Hope Dixon.”

“It’s perfect,” you agreed with a smile. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Nah, I definitely love ya more, Sunshine. I love ya so much.”

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roosterforme · 3 months ago

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Aim for the Sky Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley hadn't really celebrated Mother's Day since Carole passed. It was a strange thing, trying to wrap his head around all of the emotions he felt as he watched you and Rose together. He wanted these feelings to last forever.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You thought your first week back at work went pretty well. You only cried five times. Bradley only threatened to retire early seven times. You only called your parents in a panic twice. And you only fell asleep in your office once.

"That could have been a lot worse," you said on Friday night while you sat on the couch and ate pizza while Bradley walked Rose around, trying to get her to fall asleep.

"You're right," he whispered, kissing her hair. "I only cried twice." You laughed as Rose's eyes fluttered closed and stayed that way. She already looked so much bigger to you than she did a few weeks ago, even though she still looked tiny compared to your husband's biceps in his undershirt.

"You're killing this dad thing, Roo," you told him as he slowly headed for the hallway to put her in her crib with Tramp at his heels. There was still some room temperature pizza left for Bradley to enjoy with you before it was time to head to bed yourselves, but when he strolled back into the living room, you could tell exactly what he wanted.

When you offered him the pizza box with an innocent smile, he shook his head. "I already had four slices," he whispered. "I'm not trying to get a dad bod already."

You pressed your lips together and said, "I have a mom bod."

"You're perfect."

He spoke with conviction and finality, and you weren't going to argue with him about it. "Are you ready for bed?" When he shook his head again, you asked, "What do you want to do then?"

"Are you going to make me ask for it?"

You watched his gaze dip down to your chest and stay there for a beat. It was unbelievable how much he could turn you on when he wasn't even touching you. Every fiber of your being was telling you to take your shirt off and give him what he wanted, but the reassurance he readily gave you was too hot to pass by.

"Yes. I want you to ask for it."

Bradley took a step closer to you as he grunted, his hand flexing at his side before inching toward the fly of his jeans. "Okay," he rasped before licking his lips. "I want to undress you." He swallowed hard, pupils blown wide. "And I want you to warm my cock with your perfect pussy while I suck on your tits."

"Oh my god," you gasped, already squirming with need as his words washed over you. "That was a lot more descriptive than I thought it would be."

His cheeks grew pink as he took another step in your direction. "You wanted me to say it."

"I did," you said as you wrenched your shirt over your head. Then you reached for his zipper, and as soon as you had his cock free, you took him between your lips.

Deep, guttural grunts filled your ears as you licked and sucked, enjoying the feel of his big hand at the back of your head while he said, "Now you're just giving me a bonus, Baby Girl."

You pulled him free, saliva strands landing on your chest. "I can stop if you're not into it."

His eyes went wide before narrowing. "Get that smart mouth back on my cock."

You did as you were told, overwhelmingly turned on by him, but he didn't let you give him head for too much longer. He knew what he wanted. It was what he always wanted now. He wanted your breasts.

"Let's go, Sweetheart," he coaxed, pulling you to your feet and stepping out of his jeans. His undershirt was the next thing to go as his cock bobbed, glistening with your saliva. "Let me have it."

He sat down on the couch, staring at you as you took your time removing your shorts and underwear. You watched him rub his thigh as he panted your name, voice laced with desperation as he reached for you. Then you let him have what he wanted. His cock was thick in your hand as you guided him through your wetness until you were sinking down around him.

"Oh fuuuuuck," he breathed as you came to rest on his lap with him fully seated, and then his mouth found the bead of milk leaking from your nipple, and you let yourself enjoy every sensation. Soft lips, eager tongue and harsh mustache. "You're so warm," he muttered, burying his face between your breasts before sucking on the other nipple. "So fucking warm."

You raked your fingers through his hair as your pussy pulsed around him. The delicious feeling of being so full was punctuated by his tongue licking sloppy stripes along your chest like he couldn't get enough. When he wrapped his hands around your waist and held you tight so he could push himself even deeper, your head dipping back in pleasure as you whined.

"I'll make you come," he promised, circling your nipple with his tongue. His thumb found your clit and started stroking you as he sucked you dry. You were exhausted now, but you were so close, and you couldn't help yourself from bouncing in his lap. "Fuck," he growled, and you knew he was done. He came inside you, still rubbing your clit, and soon you bounced along through your own orgasm with your husband's face buried between your breasts.

"Jesus," he groaned, finally pulling his body a few inches away from yours. You wobbled a bit when he helped you stand, and you could feel his cum dribbling down between your thighs. "That looks so pretty. I can't believe you wanted us to use condoms."

"It was just a suggestion!" you laughed. "I don't mind taking the pill."

He shook his head and muttered, "The creampies are just too nice." Then he opened the pizza box, stacked up the last two slices and devoured them as he followed you to bed.

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"I can't thank you enough for this," Cat said as she handed Jeremiah to Bradley. The two and a half year old was still waking up from his nap. Bradley was so used to holding Rose, it was shocking how much heavier and bigger Jeremiah was than his own child.

"Don't mention it, Lieutenant Commander," he replied with a wink as Jake set down an overstuffed diaper bag and some toys. While Cat was wearing her dress whites, Jake opted for a tuxedo, and frankly it was startling to see him dressed that way.

"Where's Angel?" Jake asked, bypassing Bradley altogether. "And where's my goddaughter?"

"She's feeding Rose," Bradley replied with a grunt.

"I'm coming!" you called from the nursery, and everyone perked up, including Jeremiah, because Tramp ran out of the room behind you.

"Dog!" Jeremiah said, pointing down at the floor.

"Hey, little dude! Good job!" Bradley told him, kneeling so he could pet Tramp. "Since when did he start talking?"

"Not very long ago," Cat said with a smile. "Just a few weeks. His first word was 'Mum'."

"His second word was 'Dad'," Jake added, giving his girlfriend some side-eye.

"It was," Cat said quietly as Jake took Rose from your arms.

Bradley knew the other pilot wanted to be Jeremiah's dad in the worst way. He talked about the little boy all the time, spent as much time with him as he could, and bought him more stuff than he could ever use. Maybe once Cat and Jeremiah moved in with him, she would start to budge on the rest of it.

"Careful," you told Jake as he started to bounce Rose. "She didn't burp yet."

Bradley smirked, because burping the baby was his job, and he loved when you saved that task for him to do. But Rose had a bit of a reputation now. "She'll spit up," Bradley warned, eyeing Jake's pristine tuxedo.

"She would never spit up on her godfather," he drawled, tickling her belly until she made a cute gurgling sound. Bradley silently goaded his daughter to do just that, but to no avail.

"We need to leave," Cat informed Jake. "The ceremony starts in an hour, but I need to be there before that. And you need to find a place to sit with Uncle Bernie."

She kissed Jeremiah in Bradley's arms, and then she headed for the front door as Jake sarcastically muttered, "Fantastic. Uncle Hondo still hates me on principle." Then he handed Rose to Bradley as well so he was left juggling both kids. "Thanks for watching him, Bradshaw."

Then he was gone, and Rose promptly spit up on Bradley's shirt. "Are you joking right now?" he asked his daughter as he knelt again to set Jeremiah down. "Nugget. We've had these discussions. I'm your dad. You're supposed to like me more than you like your godfather."

But you were all worked up now as Jeremiah said dog repeatedly and chased after Tramp. "Did you hear that, Roo? Jer calls Jake his Dad!"

"Yeah, I heard," Bradley replied, mopping up Rose's mess at the same time he tried to burp her so she didn't do it again. "I'm just in the middle of a huge betrayal at the moment."

"You're so dramatic," you told him, tossing him the burp cloth you left on the island earlier. Then you took Rose and said, "Go get changed, and I'll read everyone a story."

Bradley had to chase Jeremiah around for almost an hour before he started to show signs of fatigue. He knew quite a few words now, and when Bradley tried to teach him how to say Rooster, it came out as Woo. He was currently reaching for Bradley and saying, "Woo, up," which was actually the cutest thing.

"Does this mean we're finally ready for story time?" he asked, picking up one of Rose's storybooks that ended up on the coffee table. "Book?"

"Book," Jeremiah confirmed, and Bradley settled on the couch with both kids.

Listening to you read about a spy princess with magical powers was something new for him, but Bradley loved your voice so much. As soon as you finished he whispered, "Will you read it again?"

You looked up to see both children sound asleep on him and smiled. "You really want me to? Because neither of them are listening."

"I want you to."

So you humored him by reading it out loud a second time and doing all the voices. Bradley yawned as you finished.

"It looks like all three of you need to go to bed," you mused, standing and stretching.

"Babysitting is a breeze," he murmured, patting Jeremiah's head gently. "It's like I know what to do now. Oh, and Rose is going to need to eat soon."

Like clockwork, she started squirming a bit, and you plucked her out of his grasp before she could really start fussing. Then you whisked her away to the nursery while Bradley watched an episode of Real Housewives with Jeremiah snoozing and thought about how nice it was to have two kids around. Eventually he stood up to get your Mother's Day gift ready to go.

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When you woke up on Sunday, your breasts hurt so much, you could hardly stand it. You reached for Bradley, but he wasn't in bed. Squinting, you were able to see the alarm clock, and you sat up in bed so quickly, you were dizzy.

"Ten o'clock!" you gasped, shoving your glasses on your face. You jumped out of bed, holding your chest as you ran into Rose's nursery to find that room completely empty. "What is going on?" you called out as you made your way to the kitchen.

"Hey, Sweetheart," Bradley said calmly with a smile. He was wearing Rose in the carrier on his chest, and there was some delicious looking food on the counter. The room even smelled nice. "Happy Mother's Day."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you asked, rushing to check on Rose, but she looked completely content. "Isn't she hungry?"

"I fed her a bottle of your breast milk from the fridge," he said, leaning down to kiss you. "Ready for breakfast?"

You stood there, taking deep breaths as your heartbeat started to slow back down to normal. "Yeah," you whispered. "I need to nurse her soon, because my nipples feel like they're on fire, but I'm starving." You realized, not for the first time, that your husband had absolutely everything under control. "Did you make those?"

There was a plate of slightly misshapen muffins, and another with avocado toast. There was fresh coffee and a yogurt parfait and a vase of yellow roses.

"Yes," he replied, clearly proud of himself. "Your mom sent me a foolproof recipe for blueberry muffins, and I think I fucking nailed it, Sweetheart."

"Don't swear in front of the baby," you murmured, kissing him a little awkwardly with Rose strapped to the front of him. "Thank you. This is really sweet."

"I just want you to have a perfect first Mother's Day. I've been thinking about it all week. The roses are from Rose, obviously," he said, gesturing to the vase.

"Homemade breakfast and flowers. Sounds pretty perfect to me, Roo."

"Well, I have something else for you, too." When you looked up at him with a muffin in your hand, his cheeks were tinged a little pink. "Eat first. It's nothing that exciting."

But you knew it would be. Everything he did was exciting. Or at the very least, abundantly sweet. Even the avocado toast had a little ramekin of hot sauce next to it, because he knew you liked to drizzle it on top. And you realized the muffins were arranged in a heart.

After you took a few bites of food, you asked, "What's my other gift? I can't wait. I really want it."

You watched him run his fingers through his hair a little nervously before he turned toward the refrigerator which was still covered in ultrasound photos. "It's not fancy or anything like that. I didn't even know you could make them fancy when I started it the other day. Which is just silly, because there's a whole aisle dedicated to it at the craft store, but I didn't realize that until I got there, and then it seemed too complicated."

Something was hidden on top of the refrigerator, and he reached for it as you asked, "What is it, Bradley?"

"Uh," he whispered, handing you a yellow binder, "it's a scrapbook." The cover said Happy Mother's Day in silver letters with your name at the bottom, and when you opened it, the first page was covered in photos of you holding Rose. Tears welled up in your eyes as Bradley said, "Like I said, it's not the best, but I tried. I think I should have found a prettier binder-"

"Stop it," you gasped, setting it on the counter so you could kiss him again. "It's the most wonderful thing."

Your fingers were in his hair, lips working against his, and Bradley's big hand trailed down along your back. "You like it?" he managed between kisses. "Seems like you like it."

"I love it," you promised him, "and I only saw one page."

You gave him one more deep kiss before Rose started to squirm and fuss. "I think she's hungry again," Bradley murmured, starting to unfasten the carrier. "I'll change her diaper and get her ready for you while you look through the rest of the scrapbook."

Then they were gone, and you were left with hot sauce and muffins and page after page of photos and little notes. It felt like your daughter had been here for so much longer than seven weeks. Bradley had made copies of all of the ultrasound pictures and put them in order. "She really did look like a cute chicken nugget," you mused before turning the page to find Rose's handprints and footprints.

You ran your fingers along them as Bradley flew Rose back into the kitchen like a fighter jet, and you had tears in your eyes that you didn't even try to hide. "When did you do the handprints and everything?" you asked him. "And what are all of these little notes from?"

"I had to get sneaky last week with the ink pad," he said with a shrug. "And I always wrote little things for and about you in the Nugget Notebook. I just copied some of them."

They were the sweetest musings.

I hope my daughter is as smart and pretty as my wife.

I can't believe how lucky I am.

My wife makes me want to be an amazing dad.

You looked at him with the baby cradled against his chest and said, "There's nobody else in the entire world who would treat Rose and I as well as you do." His cheeks immediately turned an adorable shade of pink.

"I just love you," he whispered, kissing the top of her head and then your forehead as the baby started crying. "She wants her mommy."

Bradley sat on the couch with you and fed you bites of breakfast while you nursed Rose, and then when she eventually took a nap, he sent you back to bed for a nap as well. When you got up, the entire house was clean, and Bradley was playing on the living room floor with Tramp while Real Housewives was on in the background.

"She's still sleeping?" you asked, and he turned to look at you as he nodded. "Perfect. How about you give me the last thing I want for Mother's Day?"

Bradley's brow creased as he got to his feet. "You wanted something else today? Why didn't you tell me? I'd give you anything you asked for."

"I know you will," you whispered, linking your fingers with his and taking him back to the bedroom with you. Then you undressed and got on your hands and knees on the bed, and he was right there with you.

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Bradley was halfway through the Mother's Day FaceTime call with your mom when he realized his undershirt was on backwards. All he could do now was try to act natural, like he hadn't just fucked his wife until she was screaming into his pillow. He bounced Rose on his knee and smiled, thanking your mom again for helping him with the recipe for breakfast.

"Today was perfect," you said for the third time while you lounged on the couch after the call ended. Rosie was cooing and giggling as you tickled her, and Bradley had never seen anything he loved watching more than the two of you together.

He took a few candid pictures on his phone before saying, "Smile." You looked at the camera the same time Rose giggled again, and it was perhaps the cutest photo ever taken. "We can keep adding pages to the scrapbook."

"Take a selfie of the three of us," you told him, scooting closer. "And then tell me what you want for Father's Day."

Your words hit Bradley in the chest as he took the photo. He had never celebrated a single Father's Day in his life. Well, none that he could remember. Certainly Carole had made a huge fuss over her husband with Bradley when he was tiny, but he had no memory of any such things. As far as he could recall, there was nothing related to the holiday in any of the boxes you and he sorted through in his storage unit in Virginia. There was no tangible evidence.

Then when he met you, suddenly your parents were part of his life. Sure, he wished your dad a happy Father's Day every year, but it wasn't the same thing as having his own dad around. But now he would get to celebrate for real. For the first time. And he'd be able to remember it.

Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pressed his lips to Rosie's soft cheek over and over again as he tried not to start crying. He'd become an overly emotional mess since his little girl arrived, and sometimes he wasn't sure he was well equipped to handle all of these feelings.

But it never seemed to bother you. All you did was make it easier for him when you didn't rush him to try to process everything that he was feeling for the very first time. As he inhaled Rose's sweet scent and kissed her one last time, he whispered, "I just want a day with my girls."

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I might just go right to Father's Day in the next chapter, and then his birthday after that. And then their mini vacation when her parents come out again. He deserves all of the sweetness! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

If you're reading this, thank you! I posted part one of Is It Working For You? almost two years ago! I've enjoyed writing this pairing so much, they just own my heart.

PART 22

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icarusredwings · 24 days ago

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Thinking about married poolverine at the x mansion for the Christmas parties.

I like to think that even after he's quit drinking and is older, Wade lets him sit around the mansion and drink a shit ton of egg nog and just.. chill. Wade won't let anyone ask him to do anything except.. what he didn't know.. is that he signed logan up to be santa for the younger kids, and he's definitely dressed as Mrs. Clause, a wig, heels, red and white fluffy skirt, everything.

"You want me to wear what??"

"Oh, come on its for the kids peanut! Besides... ill repay you later~"

"Wade, these kids are like 12 theyre not gonna-....fine"

By the adult party runs around and the kids under 21 are forced off into their rooms, morph kurt and logan are lounging on the couch trying to sing a german carol after busting out the GOOD Alchool but Kurt forgets half of it so its just the three of them mummbling nonsense and wade thinks its the cutest most humble thing he's ever seen Logan do. Just.. a guy being a guy with his friends. And he's so happy. Soooo happy to finally have them back. Even if these aren't HIS x men, he's missed this so bad. Later he will cry because he misses HIS x men but for now? Let him be not sober and forget about that.

"Alright santa. I think its time for bed." Wade says, still in his Mrs. Clause outfit, trying to tug Logans arm up.

"Aye! Get offa me! My husband will kill you!" He throws a fit and backs away, into kurt who's tail flickers and gives her a dirty look. Who does this woman think she is?? Trying to make his friend commit adultery???

Wade pauses, then giggles, realizing just how much makeup he had on right now. He's utterly estatic that Logan won't come with him. It's only really morph whos confused because that's obviously Wade. You would think the guy could smell his own husband right?? Yeahhh... not like this.

"Teehee and that right there is why it's bedtime, peanut." He says, hoping itll spark a few plugs but logan only does the Loading cat face, tilting his head. His face is red from the alchool and the santa make up.

"Don't call me that!" He whines.

Wade rolls his eyes, smiling. "Baby, come on. You're tired." He says in that special voice. The one that leads Logan down to earth when his anger is the only thing he can see when he forgets who he is, when he's having his PTSD attacks.

"... I am?"

"Yes. Now come on. Time for bed."

Kurt whispers not to be tempted by her in his ear, and it's back to square one. It takes Remy interfereing by telling Kurt that this "devil woman" IS Logan's husband and that it's okay.

The whole thing is a mess, and it has Rouge giggling her ass off, hugging her brother as his tail flickers still.

"Ooh!! You big buzz ball! Always lookin afta folks aint ya?" She tells him, squeezing him enough to make him wheeze. "Careful cher, Gambit thinks he wants his ribs attached."

"Nonsense! A lil roughhousin nevah killed nobody!!"

You just see him trying to take Wade to their room and Logan does the little slap at his arms and is like "I can walk by myself lady! Jeez!! ..... wheres my husband? Im gonna tell on you!!"

"I AM your husband." Wade says, finally taking off the wig and caressing his chop the way he usually does. Logan's eyes squint, his eyebrows burrowing together before dilating, and Wade can swear he heard his heart beat quicken.

Laura gags.

"....'sup" he says, pulling him closer with a big idiotic grin.

Wade squeals, now trying to push him away. "Eww!! Never say that again!" He giggles. "You big lud! Bedtime!"

It's the absolute sweetest thing anyone ever witnessed, and it makes Jean happy too to know someone did infact take the big bad putty tat home. Finally-

This is how I want every teacher au Christmas fic to go you understand me? No sentinal drama. No worries. Maayyybbee Magneto if he behaves.

Just let this man be HAPPY for once.

#teacher au #finding home au #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadclaws #christmas fic #merry christmas #early christmas #laura kinney #rouge #gambit #morph #kurt wagner #jean gray

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formylovetodaryldixon · 16 days ago

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"DARYL DIXON - MASTERLIST."

Hi! This is my masterlist of all the imagines I wrote here. Thank you so, so much for the love my stories are getting♥ I'll do my best to keep writting good stories for you. - Vi. (They are posted from the last to the first) Hope you like them!

Series:

"Like there was no tomorrow” Daryl Dixon promised himself, the night he let you go, that he would always love you, like there was no tomorrow. But when you come back into his life, you’re sure you won't fall for him again. However, even against your wishes, he will stay close to you, protecting you from getting hurt or worse, because a life without you is unimaginable. Now, like a roller coaster of emotions, you have to face your confusing feelings in an apocalyptic world, until you finally decide what the hell you expect from life, besides the chance to live one more day: because you two deserve to live as if there was no tomorrow.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

One shots:

“When you finally came back.” After escaping from the saviors, Daryl and you finally meet again to stay together this time. And there, alone, your husband gives you a letter that perhaps expresses a little of what you mean to him. (light smut)

"On a snowy day." On a snowy day, Daryl's daughter tells him about an interesting conversation between you and Aunt Maggie, but Marley ends up spilling the beans to Carol too about her daddy's worst fear.

"Make you happy." Daryl reminisces about the day you two got married, when you found out you were pregnant, and when Marley was born.

"Like gravity." A recap from when you and Daryl met until he said he loved you.

"Karma butterfly." The actions we take produce their corresponding results, good or bad. And that's what happens with Spencer when he decides to play the bad guy against you and Daryl after you two decide to move in together in a house like the married couple you were before the apocalypse.

"A whole new world." For Daryl, it still feels like living in a whole new world with his daughter by his side, but in the hour that he is left alone with Marley, Daryl proves he is the best dad ever.

"The way to heal a heart." When his heart can’t stand the pain of a loss, you discover why Daryl ignored you all those days. But there, you tell your husband the way his heart can heal.

“Russian roulette.” The game of killing or dying was too much for you after Richard was about to use you as bait, so you left to not be part of that life. However, it happens that you have a husband who is an excellent hunter, and who swears to you that he would burn everything in his path until he finds you. (light smut)

"Catching the fox." Jesus only caused problems since you, Daryl and Rick met him during a run, but that doesn’t prevent you all from having a little fun. (Even if you come home empty-handed)

"The truth - Part 1." For the first time in his life, Daryl tells Carol the story of how you two met. "The truth - Part 2." Alone in the place she always loved, Daryl finally tells her the words he always wanted to say to her. Will he finally be able to propose to her?

"For life." Daryl tells his daughter about the day she was born (And she asks him an awkward question)

"My everything." A sleepless night after your and Daryl's baby was born.

"Like a roller coaster.” Marriages always have their ups and downs like a roller coaster. Even in the midst of an apocalypse, Daryl and you play a game until the situation gets a little out of control, but in the end, the only thing you two are sure about is that you have each other to keep living.

"The little spoon." During a night of drinking, you let Maggie, Glenn and Carol know that Daryl likes to be the little spoon.

“In your eyes.” The truth can easily be seen in the eyes of the person you love. That night, Daryl saw in your eyes how much you love him. But the next day after Aiden tried to attack you, Daryl knew who was responsible for the cut on your lip without you saying his name.

“Scars i would live with.” Daryl wonders why you don’t touch his back when you two make love.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon twd #dad!daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n

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sebastianstangirl01 · 2 years ago

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One Man’s Loss is Another Man’s Gain

Title: One Man’s Loss is Another Man’s Gain

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Wife Reader

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Bradley being put in his place, Protective Jake

Summary: When the best pilots in the navy get called back to Top Gun for a special detachment and it’s learned that Pete Maverick Mitchell is the instructor Bradley Bradshaw looks forward to seeing his old crush again so he can finally confess his feelings, Y/N Mitchell. Too bad Jake Seresin already swept her off her feet and made her Mrs. Seresin.

Requested: Yes!

When you first heard about this special suicide mission it’s safe to say you were terrified for your husband and father. You and Jake had been married for around 3 years now and you’re currently 7 months pregnant with your first child. The idea of being left a widow killing you inside, but not as much as the chance of your son growing up without his father.

You and your father Pete Mitchell have a strong relationship, he was the only constant in your life for a long time after your mother abandoned you on his doorstep. Growing up you and your dad spent a lot of time with Carole and Bradley, Goose passed away 3 years before you were born and Carole and Pete sometimes joked that Goose sent you to them because he knew they needed you.

Carole was the only mother figure you ever had in your life and when she passed away when you were 16 it rocked your whole world, as far as you were concerned she helped raise you and you loved her like a daughter loves her mother.

Bradley. He was a different story, though you’re 6 years younger than him you two grew up as best friends. He was your first crush when you turned 13 and actually noticed how cute he was, but he was in college then and was always going out to parties with college girls, so you never saw him much. When you were 15 you finally realized how dumb your crush was, he was 21 and you were still basically a child playing softball and hanging out with your friends at the movies and the beach. For your own sanity you let the crush go and just focused on being happy to see him when he came home on breaks.

One day everything changed though. Bradley had written you off completely out of the blue, you tried getting in touch with him but your calls wouldn’t go through, you even tried the old fashioned way and sent him a few letters but never got a response. You tried asking your dad what happened but he refused to give you any details. As much as it hurt, you refused to let yourself feel bad and reach out over and over again when you got nothing in return. So you just stopped trying.

You went to college at UCLA where you played softball all four years and got your teaching degree in elementary education, you moved back home to North Beach where you got a job as a 1st grade teacher at Miramar Elementary School on base, thanks to a few strings pulled by your Uncle Ice to insure you’d be close to home.

You met Jake at the hard deck when you were 23 and he was 26, you had gone out to spend some time with Penny and your dad had just gotten back from a deployment so you all were celebrating. Jake had just graduated from Top Gun at the top of his class and came out with a few of his fellow graduates to celebrate. When you two locked eyes the attraction was instant.

Jake spent almost a month trying to get you to go out with him, you had heard of Jake Hangman Seresin’s reputation from your dad who heard it from Uncle Ice. So you wanted to play hard to get and make sure he actually wanted to be with you and not just get into your pants. He proved himself though when he took you out for a picnic on the beach followed up by a walk on the board walk with some ice cream.

You two dated for around 3 years before getting married, you had a small intimate ceremony with just your family and a few close friends. You two lived in a old fashioned farm house and turned it into your dream house, about a year into your marriage you adopted a golden retriever puppy from the pound named Lady and a tabby cat named Wendy and you two were fine with just being animal parents for a little while.

You spent these last 3 years of marriage building your family home. You and Jake decided to live permanently in San Diego regardless of his deployments. Jake worked as hard as he could for the Navy making a name for himself, while you worked just as hard at your teaching job welcoming kids into your class year after year who left feeling like your very own children. Maverick has his hangar around 20 minutes away from your house and you all have Sunday dinners every week without fail.

When you found out you were pregnant you were surprised but nonetheless thrilled, sure you two weren’t actively trying for a baby but you weren’t really doing anything to avoid pregnancy either. You immediately went to the doctor and got checked out learning that you were 8 weeks pregnant and left with a wide smile and some ultrasound pictures. When Maverick found out he was going to be a grandpa he just about passed out from excitement. But nothing beats Jake’s reaction when he found out he was going to be a father.

You had been anxiously waiting for Jake to get back from training, you found out about the pregnancy around a week ago and you were dying to tell your husband but wanted it to be memorable.

You brainstormed and then remembered the two things he loved almost as much as you. Your animals. You’ve seen other people use their animals as a pregnancy announcement and knew that this was the way to go.

You ordered Lady a thin sweater that read “Big Sister” and Wendy a collar that had baby booties on it since you knew better than to try to put your cat into a sweater, learning from past mistakes. You also found three of the cutest onesies at target, one read “my best friend’s have paws” the second one read “my daddy is a pilot” and the last one read “I love mommy and daddy”. You of course had to get all three, and you wanted to make a box to put them in so you got your pregnancy test and ultrasound picture and put it in the box on top of the folded onesies.

Jake is suppose to be home at 7 and it’s currently 6:50, you felt butterflies in your stomach as you sat on the couch with Wendy resting on the back of the couch near your shoulder and Lady laying across your lap asleep, with the box laying on the coffee table. You were excited but nervous about Jake’s reaction, you knew regardless he would be excited but you may have to scoop his unconscious form off the floor before the excitement hits him.

Before you could think much longer the door opened and both animals lifted their heads to look towards the door as Jake stepped inside. You quickly grabbed your phone and pressed record , wanting to get his reaction on video before urging Lady off your lap.

“Hey baby! How was your day?” You asked standing up

“It was something. I’m just glad to be home with my girls.” Jake smiled setting his bag down at the front door.

“We’re glad your home too. I have a surprise for you.” You smiled making Jake cock his brow

“What? It’s not my birthday, it’s not our anniversary, I didn’t get you anything.” Jake stressed making you chuckle

“This is for me too. Lady go see daddy!” You nudged Lady in Jake’s direction and the dog immediately stumbled towards Jake who squatted down with open arms while he was distracted by the dog you grabbed the box and held it patiently

“Lady girl! There’s my girl! What does mommy have you wearing? What is this?” Jake asked in a baby voice making you smile as he gripped the fabric to try and read it, Wendy had made her way over to the two and was rubbing her head against Jake’s leg purring. “Big Sister?”

You could see the gears in Jake’s head turning as he stared at the sweater before looking down at Wendy’s collar, his head snapped up towards you with wide glossy eyes.

“Baby? Is this what I think it is? Are you pregnant? Am I going to be a dad?” Jake asked slowly standing to his feet

“Open the box.” You smiled feeling tears burn in your eyes as you handed him the box. “Daddy.”

“Oh my god.” Jake mumbled as he looked at the contents of the box. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh baby!”

Jake carefully but quickly sat the box down on the ground before pulling you into his arms making you laugh tearfully as he spun you around.

“Oh my god! We’re having a baby! We’re having a baby! There is actually a baby inside of you right now!” Jake exclaimed cupping your face as your tears spilled over. “I love you so much. This is so perfect, I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled pulling him into a kiss

Jake has doted on you your whole pregnancy, he’s been to every doctor’s appointment, any craving you have he’s out the door to get it, any ache or pain he’s giving you a entire body massage, when your hormones are too much he holds you tight and litters your face with kisses, and pregnancy sex is out of this world.

You’d just hit your 7 month mark and felt like a whale, your ankles were swollen, your back always aches, your breasts are sore and tender, and you officially can’t stand or walk without supporting your bump because it feels like the weight of your bump is going to send you to the floor. You had recently just had a small gender reveal with your dad and some of Jake’s family and learned that you were having a little boy.

Jake has been busy training for the mission and your dad has been busy being the instructor for the mission, which has led to some long days and nights with Lady and Wendy as your company. You had heard from Jake’s nightly complaining that your estranged best friend Bradley Bradshaw is back for the mission and of course they’ve been butting heads, Jake is fiercely protective of you and after learning how hurt you were when Bradley tossed you to the side Jake made it his personal mission to be the biggest ass to him he could be.

Your dad had called you and told you about the fight between Jake and Bradley and how your name had been brought up, and that Jake bragged about how you were his. You smacked Jake on the head that night but quickly got over it when he brought up the idea of a hot bath and a back rub.

Today Penny had practically begged you to come see her, she was your favorite of all your dads conquests growing up and have always kept in touch she was more your mother than your actual mother. You hesitantly said yes, not really feeling like leaving the comfort of your bed but wanting to spend some time with her.

You took a shower and washed your hair and body, since your pregnancy makes you feel sweaty and disgusting at every moment a shower did you some good. You were feeling more energized after your shower so you even did your makeup routine and did a cute braid in your hair. You got dressed in a flowered blue sundress and some sandals and put your regular jewelry on, barley managing to get your wedding band on your swollen finger.

Since Penny loves Lady you decided to bring her with you, and Jake’s been training her since the beginning of your pregnancy to be your watch dog, a job that Lady takes very seriously. You got her in her harness and leash before grabbing your purse and keys and walking out to your white Rang Rover. You opened the passengers side door and patted the seat.

“Up Lady! Good girl!” You smiled giving her a treat and kissing the top of her head securing the leash to the seatbelt before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.

You drove towards the hard deck with with windows down bobbing your head to your Taylor Swift playlist, the breeze blowing some of your flyaways into your lipgloss.

When you pulled into the hard deck you furrowed your brows when you saw both your dads bike and Jake’s truck in the parking lot. You got out of the car and walked around grabbing Lady’s leash and getting her out of the car before you two walked inside.

“Pen! Penny!” You called out seeing the bar empty

“Out here!” Penny called from the back deck

Lady jerked on the leash at Penny’s voice and you chuckled lightly before dropping the leash letting the energetic dog run out the back door.

“Lady!” Penny exclaimed as you walked outside seeing the golden retriever giving the woman some love. “Hey sweetheart, how you feelin?”

“Pregnant. Very pregnant.” You chuckled taking a seat beside her. “Whatcha doing out here?”

“Just taking in the view.” Penny smirked and you furrowed your brows before following her gaze to see the aviators on the beach playing football

“Oh. That’s why dad and Jake’s bike and truck are out front. I thought they snuck away to day drink.” You said making Penny chuckle

“Nope. They’ve been at it for about an hour. Jake’s already laid Rooster out twice.” Penny raised her brow and you chuckled

“That man. I told him not to be a dick, I swear he holds a grudge worse than any woman I’ve ever met.” You shook your head playing your hands on your swollen belly. “Your daddy’s a little bit of a drama Queen.”

Penny chuckled and turned her head back to the team of aviators and smiled when she saw them walking towards them.

“Looks like they’re heading this way.” Penny nudged your shoulder making you look up

Lady perked up when she first caught sight of Maverick, the dog stumbled in the sand towards him. Maverick smiled and crouched down allowing the dog to run into his embrace, licking his face in greeting.

“Lady girl! You’ve gotten so big in the last week, you just keep on growing.” Maverick smiled rubbing the dogs head

You got up with Penny’s help and walked onto the beach towards your dad, you saw Jake still down by the water with a few other pilots so you figured you’d make your way down to him.

“Hey dad.” You smiled as you walked over to him, Lady coming right back to your side

“Hey kiddo. How’s my grandson?” Maverick asked giving you a hug and kissing your forehead

“He’s being pretty lazy today, he hasn’t moved around much and when I pressed around to try to get him to move he just gave me one big kick basically telling me to shut up.” You chuckled rubbing your belly where your baby had just given you a kick, probably knowing you were talking about him

“It’s those Mitchell genes, he’s gonna be a stubborn one.” Maverick smiled gently patting your stomach

“God help us.” You shook your head. “How’s training going? I hope Jake isn’t being too much trouble.”

“It’s going. Jake’s being Jake. He’s definitely giving Bradley a hard time.” Maverick said

Jake was the one who put you back together, when you met you had some serious trust issues and were battling some depression as well. Even before you finally agreed to date him, Jake was always protective of you and when you finally opened up and let him in he swore no one was ever going to hurt you again.

“He’s just protective, you know that.” You sighed and Maverick nodded

“I know. I’m glad he looks out for you.” Maverick said looking slightly over your shoulder making you smirk

“You know, she still loves you.” You said making him snap his gaze back to you

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maverick shook his head and you chuckled

“She’s been like my mother my whole life. I wish you’d make it official.” You said kissing his cheek before making your way towards Jake

“Y/N?” A voice asked from behind you making you pause, you knew that voice it’s one you’d never be able to forget no matter how hard you tried

You slowly turned around and saw Bradley standing in front of you, he was wearing his dads old aviators and some cut off jean shorts without a shirt. He’s grown up since you saw him last, now sporting the mustache that looked so much like Goose’s.

“Bradley.” You nodded managing a small smile, you felt Lady settle herself right on your side nearly sitting on your foot in a protective position

“Look. I don’t want any trouble. I know I screwed up so bad, cutting you out of my life was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done. I was just so mad about what had happened that I didn’t even think that you might not of known about it I just decided that you had just as much to do with it as Mav and that was the end of it. You didn’t deserve that, I know that now.” Bradley sighed sadly looking down at your bump that you were cradling

“You’re right. I didn’t deserve that. I loved you Bradley, I honestly thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with you. You were my best friend and I know you were going through a rough time losing Carole and then your papers. But I lost her too, she was the closest thing I had to a mom and I loved her so much. I was grieving and then I lost you too.” You paused to clear your throat. “I don’t know. Maybe if you had stuck around I never would’ve met Jake, and I wouldn’t trade him and our life together for the world. I don’t want to bring my son into the world with any hard feelings, I don’t want any grudges to be passed down to him. So, I am willing to try and move past this. You were family once Brad, I think that maybe we could be that again.”

Bradley cleared his throat and looked away before looking back towards you.

“I would really like that. I’m happy for you kid, as much as I hate to say it I’m glad that you have Jake and happy that you found someone who will love and take care of you. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make this right, I promise.” Bradley said and you nodded reaching down to pet Lady when she nudged your leg

“I think we can do that.” You smiled softly one that Bradley mirrored

“Congratulations. I remember how you always talked about being a mom.” Bradley said gesturing to your stomach

“Thank you. It’s a little boy.” You smiled adoringly down at your stomach

Before anything else could be said, a familiar presence was felt behind you before arms wrapped around your waist and gently cupped your stomach pulling you back into a warm firm chest.

“Everything good here?” Jake asked leaning down to kiss the spot right under your ear

“Everything’s fine.” You nodded towards Bradley who nodded in agreement

“Yeah. Uh, congrats on the baby.” Bradley told Jake who nodded

“Thanks.” Jake said before taking Lady’s leash from your hands. “Want to get some food?”

“Yes. I’m starving.” You said and Jake chuckled taking your hand into his

“Let’s go then, I’m sure Penny would make you that burger you love.” Jake said pulling you towards the hard deck

“I’ll see you around.” You told Bradley who nodded watching as you left with Jake’s arm now wrapped around your waist

Bradley watched Jake lean down to kiss your forehead gently as he led you and your dog back towards the hard deck where everyone else was standing around the back deck talking. He watched your smile as you talked to Phoenix and Bob and as you were introduced to everyone else. He smiled softly, he fully expected to be filled with jealousy when he saw you and Jake together.

But seeing how happy you were, your bright smile and sparkling eyes as you cling to Jake’s side. You deserve the world and if Jake can give it to you then that’s enough for him.

Taglist

@daughterofthereaper02

@luckyladycreator2

@calpurniatypes

@littlebadariell

@qnfluvr

@raefoxiegirl

@maverick-wingman

@avada-kedrava-bitch

@army24--7

#top gun maverick #pete mitchell #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #pete mitchell x daughter reader #pete maverick mitchell #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader

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catherinetheprincessofwales · 3 months ago

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James Middleton: Kate, William and the dog that saved my life. The younger brother of the Princess of Wales was so depressed he came close to killing himself. Then Ella, his faithful cocker spaniel, stepped in — and even found him a wife. He tells Matt Rudd about his ‘waste of money’ education, family therapy and the help Prince William gave him. The Sunday Times, 22 Sep 2024.

I’m in a cottage on a farm with the brother of the Princess of Wales and his eyes are filling with tears. He has a cocker spaniel called Luna on his lap and I have a cocker spaniel called Inka on my lap. Both dogs are looking anxiously at their owner as he tries to tell me about the death of their mother, Ella. It could be a bit awkward when a man you’ve only just met starts getting very emotional about a dog that died nearly two years ago. Instead it’s the moment I realise James Middleton isn’t exaggerating. A dog really did save his life.

On a winter’s night in late 2017, Middleton climbed a ladder to the roof above his parents’ flat in Chelsea and contemplated suicide. Overwhelmed by feelings of failure, he had decided that the labour of living was no longer worth the effort. As his thoughts spiralled, it was only the sight of Ella, watching him carefully through the skylight, that gave him pause. How could he leave her, he wondered.

Over weeks and months Middleton had isolated himself from family and friends, ignoring increasingly desperate phone calls and texts. When his sister Pippa came to the door, he would hide in his room. When he tried to go to work, he got as far as the car park and then drove home again.

“I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t sleep, I was constantly agitated,” he says. “If I sat down I had to stand up again immediately. I couldn’t eat because I felt constantly as if I were about to throw up. What was most challenging was that I couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong. It wasn’t living, it was just existing in this awful state of anxiety.”

As his mental health crisis deepened, it was only Ella and the routine of looking after her that kept him going. “I was never alone in a time when I felt very lonely,” he says, stroking Inka’s ears. “I’m surprised there weren’t marks on the carpet from the laps I was doing, but she would sort of get in the way. It was a silent interruption, but for a fraction of a second it would stop the spiralling. “Something was taking over my mind, but not knowing what it was made it very difficult to talk about. And I didn’t feel as though I had a right to be depressed because I’ve had everything, because I am privileged.”

We are meeting today, I should mention, at Bucklebury Farm Park, a genteel sheep-petting outfit plus farm shop (excellent organic pesto) at the more desirable end of Berkshire. It is owned by his sister Pippa Matthews née Middleton and her hedgie husband, James, who is, among other things, the next laird of Glen Affric. Carole and Michael Middleton, parents to James, Pippa and Catherine, live in a manor house a stone’s throw away and Middleton’s own farm, which he bought from the parents of a prep school friend mid-pandemic, is a mile over there. It’s quite the empire.

Now married to the French financier Alizée Thevenet and father to 11-month-old Inigo, Middleton is happy to talk about his annus horribilis and his dog-assisted recovery. He does so at book-length in Meet Ella: The Dog Who Saved My Life. But it’s a good question: what does someone born into such wealth and privilege have to be depressed about?

The roots of his 2017 crisis can be found, like most roots of crises, in childhood. Born in 1987, the same year his mother set up the mail-order company Party Pieces, he followed his two older sisters to Marlborough. If the prestigious boarding school demanded academic excellence and his parents expected it, both were to be disappointed. Diagnosed with dyslexia then, and with attention deficit disorder when he finally sought help in 2017, he struggled where his sisters had excelled.

“School is about comparing yourself to others,” he says, recalling how he would avoid friends phoning to compare exam results in the summer holidays. “I didn’t feel despair when I failed because it happened so often, but I was embarrassed. I felt let down because I didn’t think that those results properly represented me.”

In the early chapters of the book he charts his struggles with expectation — his mother is frequently in tears, his father just as frequently exasperated. Even without VAT, it must have taken a large chunk of the trust fund established by Michael’s grandmother, the heiress Olive Middleton, to put his son through Marlborough. When that son had to spend a gap year retaking his A-level chemistry four times, a “humiliating record” for the school, he tells him his education was “a waste of money”.

Although today Middleton studiously avoids criticising his school or his beloved parents — he learnt valuable survival skills at Marlborough, he tells me, and “Mum and Dad just wanted the best for me” — the pressure was clearly intense. He sought escape from that pressure in nature and in dogs. “I was an outcast … alienated from my classmates,” he writes. “But dogs never judged me. Mum asked repeatedly if I wanted to bring friends home to stay at weekends. But truthfully all I wanted to do was to see Tilly.”

Tilly was the family’s golden retriever, but from an early age Middleton was desperate for his own dog. His parents, on the other hand, continued to be desperate for him to succeed. And so, after that long summer of resits, he squeaked into Edinburgh University, choosing criminology, environmental studies and geography modules because he was “pretty certain they would all be multiple choice”. They weren’t, of course, and he failed his first-year exams. More crying from Mum, more exasperation from Dad, more solace from a dog, this time his own.

“For all my reservations, I shall be eternally grateful for the time I spent in Edinburgh because it is thanks to Ben, a university friend, that I find my adored dog Ella,” he writes, introducing us to the dog that saved his life. Despite his best efforts, puppies and student life are not compatible, and when he was banned from bringing Ella to lectures he finally abandoned his studies. “I knew that if I left university I’d be responsible for that decision,” he says. “It was a big step, but I had Ella with me, as my companion and my responsibility.”

Middleton’s story is not exactly Angela’s Ashes. When he announces that he is ditching his degree to become an entrepreneur in London, he is cut off, he tells us, from the Bank of Mum and Dad, but he can still move in with his sisters at the family’s flat in Chelsea. His uncle Gary Goldsmith, he of Celebrity Big Brother 2024 notoriety, is also on hand to invest in his cake kit start-up. Nobody in this story is going to find themselves on the street.

But cynics desist! Don’t underestimate the impact of parental expectation, nor of not conforming to the traditional model of success. Middleton, anxious and increasingly socially uncomfortable, had left his friends in Edinburgh and washed up in London with his dog.

“She was my shield,” he says. “Through her I could enjoy things. I could take her for a walk and see what she was seeing. I process a lot of things in my mind and that can be overwhelming, but she helped me open my eyes and realise everything was OK.”

There are, I’m sure, many advantages to being royal adjacent, but when his sister Catherine started dating Prince William in 2004, Middleton found the level of media interest “shocking”. A young man who used his dog as an excuse to leave parties early was not equipped for the spotlight, for stepping out of the flat into a sea of flashing cameras.

“I’d never seen a royal wedding,” he says, rather sweetly. “There hadn’t been one in my lifetime. Not a big one anyway. I wasn’t aware of the scale or the global interest. I just felt privileged that my sister was asking me to do it, and it meant something to her. I wanted to make sure I did it.”

His description of the intense amount of practice he put in to the reading is like a potted version of The King’s Speech — he stutters, he stumbles, he takes lessons with the voice coach Anthony Gordon Lennox, he reads nervously and then more confidently to an audience of one dog — Ella, of course — in Chelsea Old Church. And then it’s the big day. “Really, the build-up to Catherine’s wedding was no different to Pippa’s or other friends’ weddings,” he says, unbelievably. Just the family, 1,900 guests, Her Majesty, an archbishop and a few world leaders. Watching the recording back today, there’s no hint of nerves — Middleton, 24 at the time, gives a bravura performance. Afterwards an American production company wrote to ask if he’d like to star in his own film — their opening offer was $1 million.

“They even ventured,” he writes wryly, “that members of my wider family might like to take part.” Middleton is not unaware of how everything is distorted by his proximity to royalty.

On the surface the next few years of Middleton’s life read like a Hello! magazine special — parties, holidays on Mustique, holidays in the Alps, a blossoming relationship with a glamorous older woman (the actress Donna Air, about whom his parents were hesitant because of the eight-year age gap), weekends at Sandringham (“Did you get my message, James?” the Queen asked the first time he visited. “Ella is welcome to stay in your room.”) But then came the night of despair in pyjamas on a Chelsea rooftop. Long sessions of cognitive behavioural therapy followed with a psychiatrist who was happy for Ella to attend too. She was, Middleton says, the only reason he kept going.

In December 2017, his mental health still fragile, he left London without telling anyone and holed up in a remote cottage in the Lake District. While his family grew frantic with worry, much to his irritation (“I’m a grown man”), he describes three days of elemental existence — fetching firewood and water, heating soup, walking Ella and her two pups. For the first time in a year he enjoyed a deep sleep and, in front of the fire after a wild swim with his dogs, he felt fleetingly happy.

“Dogs are amazing,” he says and all five of the dogs in the cottage with us — three spaniels and two beautiful golden retrievers — look delighted. “They do just sense things. Ella had been with me in every therapy session, she was always with me. I think we can learn from dogs. They’re not thinking about yesterday or tomorrow. They’re not even thinking about the next couple of hours. They’re thinking about right now. I’m here, they’re here, in the moment.”

As Middleton’s recovery continued, he says his sisters understood — they both had friends who had depression — but his parents struggled. “They were uncomfortable with the fact that I’d been labelled ‘clinically depressed’,” he writes. “To people of their generation, I can understand why it was concerning. Society was only just starting to break through the stigma.”

The solution, in the end, was to invite the family to the therapy sessions. “I felt guilty because I knew they were worried,” he says. “They felt guilty because it’s really hard if you’re not able to help the people you love the most. I was finally understanding how I felt but I got nervous trying to translate that to my family without the help of an interpreter. When they came into the sessions they had the opportunity to ask questions that I couldn’t necessarily answer.”

In the 13 years since Catherine’s wedding Middleton’s hair has receded a little, but he now has a beard for balance — a little twirl of his moustaches and he could be a not-too-distant cousin of Tsar Nicholas II. He probably is — this generation of Middletons is not the first to hang out with royalty. He looks less bright and bushy-tailed than he did in 2011, but that might be fatherhood or the weekend with friends he has just returned from in Norfolk. Or it might simply be the passing of enough eventful years.

Whatever it is, he tells me he is now happy, which, given the depths of his depression, he still finds extraordinary. His idea of what constitutes success has changed — he is no longer motivated by money but by the things in life about which he is passionate. He doesn’t even like the word entrepreneur any more.

Having stepped away from Boomf, a marshmallow delivery company (Boomf is the sound a marshmallow makes falling from a letterbox), he started James & Ella, a “premium freeze-dried raw dog food” company in 2020. He clearly finds it easier to be passionate about dogs than marshmallows. But it’s in his personal life that the change has been most dramatic.

“I remember sitting in the therapist’s chair with Ella’s head on my lap, wondering how long it was going to take to get better,” he says. “But within a year I had met my future wife. And we’re now here with an 11-month-old son, living on a farm with six dogs. If someone had told me that would happen, I’d have been annoyed. It would have just seemed so ridiculous.”

He met Thevenet, 34, at a members club in South Kensington, west London, in 2018. Ella, having actively disapproved of several previous girlfriends, broke the ice by going over to her table. They married in the south of France in 2021 (a Hello! magazine world exclusive, naturally) and Ella was a flower girl. And everyone lived happily ever after.

Except, alas, the dog. It is one of life’s cruelties that man’s best friend has a much shorter life expectancy than man. Just asking Middleton about the death of Ella, early one Saturday in January 2023, makes him emotional. Despite being given two weeks to live the previous September, she had made it through Christmas, perhaps buoyed by the thought of one final week in the Alps. Of course Middleton was with her when she took her last breath at 3am. The whole family, including William and Catherine, gathered in his parents’ garden for what sounds like an extensive memorial on the Sunday.

“Saying goodbye to Ella was not just saying goodbye to her as a dog,” Middleton says. “It was everything I’d been through with her. She had arrived just as I was starting out in my twenties and she was leaving as I’d finally figured things out in my mid-thirties. She put me on the right path and I didn’t want another day from her. I didn’t want another hour. I would have loved it but I didn’t need it. “She was sent to me before I even knew I needed her, but she chose me. She was able to transform my life better than any human could have done and then she put me in the capable hands of someone and together we’re now raising our own family.”

Eight days after Ella was buried in her favourite sheepskin, Alizée interrupted Middleton’s mourning to announce that she was pregnant. He is convinced Ella knew and that her death was a kind of passing of the torch. His son, Inigo, was born last autumn. “I hope there’s an Ella who will find Inigo, if there’s a time in his life when he needs it,” he says, as one of the golden retrievers has a long stretch.

If you’re not a dog person, you might find this cosmic canine intervention a bit much. Whether Ella was the ultimate therapist or a very effective placebo, it worked for Middleton. His sisters’ families are also fully invested in the joys of cocker spaniels — Pippa has one of Ella’s sons and Catherine, whose announcement of the end of her chemotherapy treatment comes a few days after this interview, now has one of Ella’s granddaughters — no corgis to date. Middleton himself now regards his mental health crisis as a blessing. “Although I would never wish it on anybody and I would never want to go through it again, I’m pleased it happened. It was an opportunity to recalibrate and to re-evaluate what matters.” Happiness, he says, is what matters. Happiness and lots of dogs. Meet Ella: The Dog Who Saved My Life by James Middleton (Radar £22).

#ktd #middleton family #James middleton #meet ella #mental health #mental heath support #mental heath awareness #Sunday times #Dogs #dog #doggo #dogs of tumblr #dogblr #puppy

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 2 days ago

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Eddie Munson's royal wedding

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 21

Prompt: Formal

Rated: M

Tags: Modern AU; Rock star Eddie; Royal Steve; Established relationship; Sexually explicit language

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

“Okay,” Eddie says. The crowd outside the toned windows of the limousine has been getting thicker, which means they must be there soon. “Lemme get this straight again.”

Steve, seated opposite him and looking both stupidly at ease and infuriatingly handsome in his tailored suit, chuckles.

“You’re talking about your tie, right? Because you’ve been tugging on it again.”

Eddie groans and attempts to right the dreaded thing. It feels like trying to strangle himself.

“Very funny, you asshole,” he grouses, but Steve doesn’t rise to the insult, just continues to observe his struggle with fond amusement. “I'm talking about this wedding. Why do we need to- … I mean, how are you related to these people again?”

“Here, let me,” Steve mutters, leaning over and swatting Eddie’s hands away so that he can straighten the tie for him. “You know my cousin?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “The Duchess of What’s Her Face. Met her at a fundraiser once. Major bitch, please don’t tell me it's her getting married.”

“No, that’s my father’s niece,” Steve laughs, markedly not correcting him on the major bitch part. “This is my mother’s side of the family.”

“Ah, the banker and entrepreneur side,” Eddie says. He tries to fiddle with his rings, but they’ve made him leave most of them at home. “Much better.”

“Hey,” Steve says. “Try to look at it from the positive side. You won’t have to remember any titles. There'll probably also be less cameras.”

Silence drops. The car slows down as they pass another security checkpoint.

“Hey,” Steve says. His hands settle on Eddie’s shoulders, featherlight and familiar. “Hey, look at me.”

Eddie does.

“You don't have to do this,” Steve says. His eyes are serious, his brow furrowed. “I can get out of this car alone and tell the driver to bring you home, and nobody will need to see you like this.”

“Wow,” Eddie scoffs. “You can tell you've been trained in diplomacy. That's the nicest way anyone has ever told me I looked like shit.”

Steve drops a chaste kiss to his lips, just as the car stops. “I never said that. I know it's not your favorite type of event, though. Or your favorite type of people. I don't ever want to force you into-”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupts him. “You're not forcing me. I chose this. I chose you. And for the record, I know I look fantastic in this thing.”

Steve hums, a low sound that settles heavy in Eddie’s abdomen. The driver’s door shuts and steps approach. An excited chorus of voices swells outside. The goddamn press, eager to catch a photo of him making a complete ass of himself on his first royal engagement.

“You know when you'll look even better?”

Eddie flinches back to attention. “Huh?”

The door swings open. A storm of flashing cameras breaks loose.

Steve smiles, bright and professional. His voice is so low Eddie needs to strain to catch it.

“When we get back to the hotel and I take it off you.”

“There he is!”

Eddie turns to see the bride swooshing towards him in a flurry of white skirts, her new husband trailing on her heel like an eager puppy. He casts a nervous glance over his left shoulder, then one over his right, but Steve is nowhere to be seen.

“Eddie Munson,” the bride says, coming to a stop in front of him and taking a generous sip of her champagne. “The rock star who bagged the crown prince. Every eligible person in this room either wants to be you or kill you, you know that?”

“Yeah well,” Eddie says, taking in the mean curl of her mouth and the sharp glint in her eyes. “Good thing you're not eligible anymore, I guess.”

Her face twitches and her hand grips the glass a little tighter.

“Carol,” says her husband, smile sharp. “Don't tease him. He must have it hard enough. The backlash from his fans, the media claiming that this is just a rebellious phase Steve is going to grow out of soon. I imagine it can't be easy.”

“Ah, you know how the press are,” Eddie says. “Better not to listen to them. Steve and I are in this for the long haul. We're planning on making it work.”

The bride quirks a brow. “Well, good luck with making that white dress work at your wedding.”

And Eddie wanted to behave, he really did, but what can he do when served a cue like this?

“Bold to assume I'll be the one wearing the dress.”

Silence drops. The bride and groom gape at him. A scandalized murmur runs through the assembled bystanders, and fuck, when did they gain an audience?

“Um,” Eddie says. “Listen, that was-”

“There you are!” Steve exclaims, materializing out of nowhere and taking him gently by the shoulder. “Tommy, Carol, I'm so sorry, but we need to get going. Early start tomorrow, you know how it is. Beautiful wedding, congrats again.”

And then Eddie’s being pulled out the doors and into the venue's lush garden, past a crowd of gawking wedding guests.

“I can't believe you said that.”

Eddie is already drawing a breath to apologize, but then it dawns on him that it's not rage that's making Steve’s voice shake. It's laughter. Steve's hand, against all rules of propriety and protocol, has slipped into his.

“Told you I'd be a disaster at this,” he shrugs, and Steve snorts.

“Ah, they deserved it. We can deal with the fallout tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Eddie smirks as the limousine rolls to a stop before them and the driver jumps out to open the door for them. “Is this the part where you take me to the hotel and-”

“Oh no,” Steve says, and pulls him inside. His eyes are sparkling. “Change of plans. You're fucking me in the car.”

And who's Eddie to disregard a royal order?

More holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles 2024 #the rock star and the royal

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kaeyinx · 5 days ago

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hey guys more thoughts on the hangman can see ghosts because it’s all i’ve been thinking about!

jake’s dad had always been, and will always be an asshole; that’s something jake knows for sure. he also knows that his behavior only got worse once his mom died when he was just 15. you’d think that jake would see her ghost, that she would at least have the decency to stick around to look after her son in the afterlife. but no—jake has never once seen her. it used to not make sense to him, why she would just out right abandon him. the fact that he can see ghosts and knows his mom chose to leave him again hurts. as he gets older, he begins to understand that maybe she felt guilty for letting her husband treat their son the way he did. that she couldn’t watch his mistreatment get worse after she died. that doesn’t make it any less painful for jake though.

when jake and bradley finally get engaged, ice and mav fight over who gets to walk who down the isle. jake’s mom is dead, and he hasn’t spoken to his father in years. bradley’s parents are also both dead. insert mav and ice who have always loved bradley like a son, and have grown and learned to also love jake as their own. ultimately maverick ends up walking bradley, and ice walks jake.

however—something only jake can see from where he’s peeking out from behind closed doors, is that nick is walking with bradley too. and oh, suddenly a wave of emotions hits him like a truck. there he is, nick “goose” bradshaw in all his glory. still in the same flight gear as the day he died. and isn’t that a sight to see? jake cries for the fact bradley will never know his dad walked him down the isle. he cries because it’s such a beautiful moment to witness. most of all, he cries when nick turns right back around once he’s walked with bradley to the front, and makes a beeline for jake.

he can write it off to ice as he’s just emotional over him and bradley finally tying the knot—but really, it’s because for years and years he hated having this gift, this ability to see ghosts. knowing his mom left him, knowing he could see the ghosts of the two people he’s killed. it’s because in that moment, jake had never been more grateful for it. he’d never been grateful for anything more in his life than knowing his soon to be husbands father loved and accepted him enough to walk by his side as he approached the alter. he may not be on good terms with his father, but somewhere along the line he gained three amazing dads.

-please take note of me calling him jake’s father because he was never really a dad to jake but mav, ice, and nick get the title of dad!!

-also don’t ask me where carole is i don’t know either. if i did she would be walking bradley down the isle too but i didn’t think that hard about this

-one more thing: no jake doesn’t tell anyone he can see ghosts. not for a lack of wanting to, or for thinking they’ll all think he’s a nut job. he just knows there’s no way to prove nick is actually there as a ghost, and he doesn’t want to bring of all that pain of the past for something only he can see. however he does tell bradley that he just knows his dad is there with them in spirit.

-OKAY ONE MORE THING jake calls ice and mav ice and mav because that’s all he’s ever know them as. but he calls nick, nick because he never knew him as a naval aviator, just as bradley’s deceased dad who’s name was nick. also jake knew bradley as bradley first, and then he becomes rooster, but in jake’s head he’s still always bradley:)

@callsign-hummingbird more jake can see ghosts!!!

#top gun fandom #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #nick bradshaw #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #top gun fanfiction #hangster #sereshaw #icemav

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compacflt · 1 year ago

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I love your interpretation of Mav and Ice. I love how realistic they both feel because well, they're white men in the Navy starting in the 80s. What it does make me wonder about Carole? I know you don't write for her but your analysis of Top Gun itself just made me wonder about her. Like whether she was a traditional military wife or just kinda met Goose and fell into it. Did Goose's death and the period between his death and her's change anything? Did it make her more skeptical of the military because of the cause of Goose's death or was her asking Mav to not let Bradley fly purely out of her hurt for Goose's death and not a moral/political thing also. PS. I read your Slider fic and absolutely adored it

well… i think any attempt to flesh out Carole’s character is gonna be completely based on conjecture, because we’re not given more than “slightly naive Christian woman who doesn’t always say exactly the right thing.”

But I think it’s helpful to remember where she fits into the narrative at large, and why: Carole Bradshaw is the villain of the Top Gun franchise. Top Gun is her villain origin story.

The rhetorical purpose of the top gun franchise is: to make money, obv, AND to get people to join the navy. (to what extent it’s successful at achieving that latter goal is the topic of a different post… im certainly not the first to say it’s pretty easy to find an antimilitary reading of TG.) but if top gun is aiming to portray the navy as someplace you want to be, and someplace where you have to earn a spot to be (as I keep repeating over the last couple weeks, it’s all about honor), then Carole Bradshaw becomes the villain of the recruiting story of Top Gun: Maverick, because she (momentarily) prevented her son from joining the navy with the honor he thought he deserved, and she is to blame for the emotional through line of the entire movie. Thank God! we don’t have to blame maverick for fucking up and preventing Bradley from achieving his Dream Of Working As A US Military Contractor! we can blame his dead mom instead, so that maverick is still a good guy whom we, a moderately-conservative pro-navy target audience (🤑), can still root for & pay money to see.

so yeah narratively speaking she’s just a scapegoat. She has no agency in the story whatsoever, she’s only an object to receive blame. any backstory/reasoning/character we invent for her doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t really matter WHY she does it—whether she hates the military or not, narratively speaking we have to blame her just the same either way—it just matters that she does it. and then she has to immediately die so she can’t explain herself and maverick has to self-sacrificially take the blame. Because otherwise the plot of TGM wouldn’t happen, which would not achieve the rhetorical goals of making a bunch of money and getting kids to sign up for the navy.

#always a treat to remember that the target audience of tgm is republican dads of teenage boys #i only watched top gun bc i (teenager) was forced to by my formerly republican dad #i saw ur Carole post & i actually think she was fridged.#in case you couldn’t tell i am a little pissed about it.#very rarely are side characters just characters. everyone (paramount pictures and me included) has an axe to grind.#thanks for the ask glad you liked slider! It’s my favorite thing I’ve written for the fandom so im glad #top gun maverick #top gun #carole bradshaw #asks #pete maverick mitchell #* pissed about the fridging not about your post. i liked your post #she is killed not to strengthen the emotional throughline of the story but #solely to further TGM’s pro-navy pro-recruitment agenda and absolve the male MC of guilt.#that is the purpose of her death & her character at large in the franchise #sooooooo imo it doesn’t really matter what her outlook is/was #she’s the villain #and also part of joining the navy/having family members in the AFUSA is accepting the risk. esp if ur husband is an aviator there is so #much risk involved independent of enemies etc. people die flying all the fuckin time. she would’ve had to accept that #the fact that she doesn’t accept that is what makes her an anti patriotic villain etc etc #and remember she TOLD maverick GOOSE would’ve accepted the risk ‘he would’ve flown anyway’#again she is incredibly out of character in TGM (as is Mav) re: papers pulling & its all to serve this rhetorical goal

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holdmytesseract · 3 months ago

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moodboard by the wonderful @chennqingg <3

Taking Risks [EoH]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader feat. Teddy & Marlo

Summary: A group including Daryl leaves to face the Reapers and to bring back food - much to your dislike. A few fearful days are ahead of you...

Warnings: TWD stuff, angst, tooth-rotting fluff, dad!Daryl, swear words

The Commonwealth Era!

Word Count: 2,6k

a/n: I absolutely love this! I hope y'all are gonna like it as well! 🤗

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"I am honestly not convinced by that plan," you said; crossing your arms over your chest and looking in the round. "Well, we don't have much of a choice, do we? Our people will starve, if we're not going to get that food," Maggie reasoned - and you understood her. Of course you did. You knew what was on the line, but- "I'll go." Your thoughts got interrupted by your husband's voice. You looked up at him, to where he sat across the table on a chair and giving him a questioning and shocked look. "So do I." Gabriel was the next who spoke up; willing to accompany Maggie. And faster than you were even able to say something, it was decided... The group around Maggie, a few of her people, Alden, Negan, Gabriel and Daryl would leave tomorrow morning.

You watched Daryl heading out of the visibly marked conference cabin, the others which were convinced by the idea following. Only you, Rosita, Aaron and Carol stayed behind; all of you against Maggie's proposition and not amused at all - but also knowing that you weren’t able to change their minds.

You took a deep breath, exchanged a worried glance with your friends and left as well; quickly following Daryl. You assumed he was on his way back to your shared house. Logically thinking that he'd immediately prepare his things for the mission - and you were right.

"Daryl," you addressed him; standing in the doorway of your bedroom and watching him packing his backpack. "You can't be serious about that. We both know that this is a suicide mission! If it's true what Maggie told us about the Reapers - which I highly believe, you all are most likely running straight into your death!" Your husband grunted and grumbled in response; throwing a flashlight into his backpack. "Don't ya think I know that, Y/N? I know damn well that tis is dangerous, but we ain't havin' another choice, don't ya see? I ain't lettin' you, the kids and our friends starve." Dog, who laid on the bed watched his parents fight, his eyes darting from Daryl to you and back; wincing softly.

You closed your eyes for a moment; taking a deep breath. "Yes, but... Fuckin' hell, Daryl, we'll find another way! We always do! What if you're getting killed, huh?! What do I tell our sons?!" Your last sentence caused Daryl to stop dead in his movements. He looked over his shoulder; seeing the tears gathering in your eyes. You didn't want him to go.

His face softened, "Y/N..." and he let the bag fall carelessly to the ground, before walking over to you. The archer's hands found your waist and gently pulled you against his body; forcing you to rest your hands against his chest. "I ain't goin' to die. I told ya before and I'll tell ya again... I'll always come back to ya and our boys. I promise."

A single tear ran down your face. "If you don't, I-" "I will, sunshine. Ain't lettin' these bastards take me away from ma family." You answered nothing, just slung your arms around your husband's neck; hugging him. Daryl engulfed your smaller frame; holding you close against his body.

On the next morning - the sun had barely risen, you stood with little Marlo on your arm at the gates towards your home; saying goodbye to your husband. Since it was still quite early and the boy had been too tired to get dressed, you quickly wrapped him up in a way too big jacket and decided on carrying him around - even though he got quite heavy now after a longer period of time. Your youngest had turned already four this year, so no wonder...

Marlo was still halfway dozing off in your arms; head resting on your shoulder. You managed to hold him with one arm from time to time, so that you could run a reassuring hand through his short, Y/H/C curls. Teddy stood close beside you; the teenager watching his father leave as well.

Once everyone was ready and everything packed, Daryl stepped over to you and the boys. You immediately went to hug him, but carefully; sandwiching Marlo between the both of you. "'M gonna be back soon." You just nodded against his shoulder; still not really okay with what he - hence, what all of them were about to do. Then Daryl leaned in for a kiss, which you granted him, of course. "I love ya," he whispered against your lips. "I love you, too." Your voice was shaky; already close to crying again. You didn't want to be this weak and you actually weren't. You just hated to see the man you love leave. You always did, but this time especially.

Daryl's gaze drifted to the sleeping Marlo on your arms. He smiled; cupped the boy's head and pressed a lingering kiss against his cheek.

Last but definitely not least, he turned to Teddy, and without even blinking wrapped the teenager up in a hug - which he gladly returned. "Let me go with ya, dad. I can help. I-I know how to fight." Daryl pulled back and laid both his palms on Teddy's shoulders; shaking his head. "I know ya can. You're strong, buddy and a damn good fighter, but... Nah. I ain't lettin' my son put his life on the line. I need ya ta stay here. Fight for your home. Look after your lil' brother and the other kids, okay? Protect 'em." Teddy nodded; blue-greyish eyes meeting his similar ones. "I will, dad. I promise." Daryl gave Teddy a smile, which the young man returned, before hugging him once more.

After saying goodbye to his friends and of course Judith and RJ, it was time to go. "Dog! C'mon, boy!" The faithful canine let out a loud bark, before following Daryl through the gates.

You couldn't sleep that night. Not at all. Your mind constantly wandering towards Daryl; hoping that this would go well. Tossing and turning in the empty, way too big and cold bed, you gave up. You sat up and searched blindly for the little package of matchsticks; burning the candle which stood on your bedside table. Running a hand over your face and through your hair, you took a deep breath. The scent of Daryl's worn sweatshirt gave you at least a little comfort and caused you to get quite a bit lost in the moment - until you heard small footsteps approaching.

Seems like you weren't the only one who couldn't sleep.

According to the sound of the steps, you were pretty sure that it was Marlo; making his way to your bedroom. Last time you checked on your boys, the little one had snuck into the bed of his big brother and ended up sleeping cuddled against his side. Well, apparently not anymore...

Throwing the blanket aside, you stood up and made your way to the door; cautiously - not to scare Marlo, opening it. You looked down the hallway and saw the flicker of a flashlight heading your way. "Marlo?" You whisper-yelled; trying to get your son's attention. It worked. The flicker of the light moved faster towards you, until Marlo rounded the corner and came to stand straight in front of you. "Mommy..."

You immediately squatted down to be on eye-level with him. His hair was a total mess and his pyjama slightly crinkled. "Baby, why are you up, huh?" You asked; brushing his curls back. "Can't sleep. I miss daddy." Your heart threatened to break at your son's words.

"I know, peanut. I miss him, too." You gave him a half smile and took the boy in your arms. It was a hug Marlo definitely needed.

"Wanna sleep in mine and daddy's bed tonight?" The boy nodded. "Uh.Huh." You smiled, "Come on then." and lifted your son up to carry him inside the bedroom; closing the door behind yourself. "Is your big brother still sleeping?" Again the boy nodded. "Good... At least one of us is able to sleep..." You muttered under your breath and sat Marlo down on the bed. He immediately crawled underneath the covers, and as you joined him, cuddled against your side. You welcomed him with open arms, blew out the candle again and pressed a kiss on Marlo's head.

The combination of being snuggled against you; safe and protected in your arms, and the smell of his father on the sweatshirt you wore, seemed to help the little boy sleep in peacefully. As for you, you still had trouble sleeping... Each following night Daryl wasn't there.

The heavy storm which hit Alexandria was for sure a distraction, but not a very welcomed one... After a night of trying to fix damages in the wall and fighting off intruding walkers, you were more than just exhausted and utterly frustrated. The storm hadn't quite helped your situation and brought more damage than resurrection. You just were glad that everybody had made it out alive... Especially all the kids.

"Y/N, go home and please for God's sake have a nap. You're exhausted. I can tell," Rosita came to stand beside you with little Coco on her arms, as you were helping clear the 'former' Grimes house from all the dead walkers. With a sigh, you dropped the body beside the pile of other bodies; turning to Rosita.

"When was the last time you had a healthy amount of sleep?" You shrugged your shoulders. "Four or five days ago? I dunno..." Your friends face twisted in concern. "It's because of Daryl, right?" You just nodded. "Just can't switch my brain off... 'M worried." Rosita gave you a compassionate look and leaned in to hug you - carefully, not to hurt Coco.

"I'm worried, too. I just hope the price to get this food isn't too high..." You relished in your friend's comfort; nodding once more. "Yeah, I hope so, too."

After retreating from the hug, Rosita demanded again that you should rest. In the end, you gave in; feeling the exhaustion crawl up on you. That was probably the reason why you didn't even make it to the bedroom and just passed out on the sofa; your body forcing you to sleep now.

You slept for hours; almost through the whole day - and Teddy let you, of course. The teenager knew exactly how much you needed this. He wasn't stupid after all. Plus, he had absolutely no problem with looking after his little brother.

Therefore, you did not notice how the gates got opened and the survivors of the dangerous mission returned with the food. Well, until...

"Mom..." You felt a hand on your shoulder; gently trying to shake you awake. "Mom... They're back!"

Teddy's soft voice managed to wake you up; slowly blinking your eyes open, you sat up. "They're back?" You were still a little sleepy; your brain needing a few moments to process your son's words. "Yes, they're back." Once your brain did catch up, your eyes widened; heart rate picking up immediately. "A-And your father? Is he...?" Teddy started to smile brightly; nodding. A relieved breath left your lungs. "Thank god..."

Teddy gave you another sweet smile - the same his father would give you, and nodded to the door. "Go, mom. I'll get Marlo." You returned the smile, of course, and immediately stood up. After pressing a lingering kiss against your son's forehead, you rushed towards the door. As fast as your legs could carry you, you sprinted down the street and straight towards Alexandria's community hall.

A little carriage stood in front of the visibly demolished house by the Whisperer; filled with wooden boxes. Food, you assumed. Beside the carriage stood a lot of people already; all welcoming the survivors home. Your heart sunk at the fact that a lot of them didn't make it back, but then you saw your husband...

He was sweeping up Judith and RJ in a hug, after they had ran to their 'uncle'; happy to see him. You were beyond happy as well, of course. Tears stung in your eyes as you watched him; heart hammering against your chest in sheer joy.

"Daryl!" You almost yelled; a tear rolling down your cheek. Hearing you calling out his name, the archer lifted his head; blue-greyish eyes immediately searching for you. Once he found you, he gave Jude and RJ a last squeeze, before letting go of them and quickly walking over to you.

You met him halfway; throwing yourself into his strong arms. Daryl lifted you off the ground with a sweet grunt; holding you close against his body. "You're back," you whispered through tears and buried your face in his neck; inhaling his scent.

"'Course 'm back. Promised ya I'll always come back to ya, sunshine." He did, indeed. You giggled, still crying and only cuddled closer; clinging onto him.

After what felt like an eternity, he slowly let you down again; his hands still resting on your hips. You looked up to meet his gaze; palms on his shoulders. "You okay, sweetie? You aren't hurt are you?" You asked; immediately scanning his body for injuries. The archer only shook his head and gave you a small smile. "'M fine, Y/N."

You nodded, "Good..." and cupped your husband's cheeks; his stubble scratching your skin. Daryl got the hint, of course, and dipped his head to capture your lips with his in a sweet, yet desperate kiss. You relished in the touch of his lips; feeling how all the worries and fears of the past few days left your body.

You had him back in your arms.

"Mom, dad, c'mon, there are children present," Teddy's amused voice caused the bubble you and Daryl had been in to burst. Your lips were leaving his with a soft pop, as you turned in your man's embrace, seeing your sons standing a few meters away from. Your oldest looked at you with a crooked smile on his face. Your littlest was standing in front of his big brother. In one hand, Teddy held Marlo's hand and with the other he covered the young boy's eyes.

This sight caused you to giggle and Daryl to blush.

"Teddy!" Marlo started to squeal then; trying to claw at his big brother's hand which was still shielding his view. "Wanna see daddy!" The teenager immediately took his hand out of the younger boy's face. "Sorry, peanut. Go ahead."

Marlo blinked a few times; needing to reorientate himself first. But when his Y/E/C eyes landed on his father, there was no holding back anymore. "Daddy!" Marlo started to sprint towards you and Daryl with a big smile on his face and Y/H/C curls bouncing. Marlo didn't care in the slightest, that he almost stumbled a few times over his dad's angel-winged vest he wore, because the leather garment was way too big for his kid body. The archer had left it for Marlo; knowing that he loved to wear it and perhaps helped his little boy to not miss him that much. It worked. It always worked.

Daryl let go of you and knelt down; arms wide open for his son to run into - and Marlo did. "Daddy!" The force of the young boy's hug almost caused Daryl to lose his balance. He wrapped him up in a tight hug; feeling his aching heart healing again. He had missed his family terribly as well.

"Hi, peanut. Ya missed yer dad?" Marlo nodded big times; his little arms looped tightly around Daryl's neck. "I missed ya too, lil' one. And..." The archer stood up with Marlo still wrapped up in his arms and walked over to his eldest; placing his free hand on Teddy's shoulder. "...I missed ya as well, buddy." Teddy smiled; wrapping an arm around Daryl in a half hug. "Missed you too, dad."

You always hated separations. It was never not a hard thing to do - but the reunions were worth all the worries and fears.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @mayday2007 @erebus-et-eigengrau @dixons-sunshine @km-ffluv @secretsicanthideanymore @fictive-sl0th @belitoxx @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @stiveroon @cakesandtom

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sequinsmile-x · 6 months ago

Text

Better

Ordinary.

-x-

Hi friends,

If you haven't seen it, I've been getting more anon hate than usual recently, almost entirely around the fact pregnancy/Emily having a family with Aaron is a common them in my fics and how they hate that I write about it. Instead of just...seeing the tags and moving on they've been sending me anons criticising me for it. This culminated in me getting a message yesterday that sent me into orbit saying I was making Emily 'mediocre' by making her a mother like other 'mediocre' women.

(you can read the anon here if you haven't and want to it is WILD)

Now, whatever your feelings are about fanfic or characterisation of Emily, calling someone mediocre for their choices, implying that wanting whatever they want is bad, is ridiculous behaviour.

I've had a lot of feelings about it all day, and ending up writing this to get it out because that is how I process things.

As always, let me know what you think.

-x-

Warnings: Lots and lots of mommy issues

Words: 3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

From the moment her mother had suggested it, Emily had wanted to get out of going to lunch. Elizabeth insisted that she came over to the event she was hosting with some of her old friends, claiming the other women hadn’t seen Emily in years and that they wanted to catch up. She’d struggled to come up with a good reason to get out of it, even praying for a case that meant she’d be out of stage, something Aaron had raised an eyebrow at.

“You’re praying someone has killed enough people that the team needs to get involved?”

She’d rolled her eyes at him and huffed, all too aware that he was right, and she’d kissed his cheek as she left the house just before midday, her gaze lingering on him and the kids as they settled down to play their favourite game.

Lunch was, overall, boring. It was a reminder of a life she’d left behind, the one she’d been born into where every word was carefully chosen yet most the time people said absolutely nothing at all. Their words meaningless, full of fluff and inflexions that she hated. False interest in each other's lives as they desperately waited for someone to ask about them.

She barely says anything, slowly eating her salad and humming intermittently so it seems like she’s listening, until one of her mother’s friends, Carol, gets her attention.

“So, what are you up to these days, Emily? Your Mother says you’re still working for the FBI?”

Emily nods, “Yeah, I work for the Behavioural Analysis Unit, the BAU. My husband used to as well but he retired when our daughter was born three years ago.”

It had been Aaron’s decision, a solution he’d come up with when they found out she was pregnant with Hazel. He’d been keen to do it, unmoveable in his insistence, his eyes bright and almost overflowing with desperation, as if this was his second chance to make the right decision for his family. She’d agreed, after some back and forth, a voice in the back of her head telling her she’d be a bad mom if she went back to work when she didn’t strictly need to, something Aaron and her friends had slowly talked her out of over the long nine months of her pregnancy.

Leaving the FBI herself was something she considered again when she had Oliver only 8 months ago, but once again she’d stayed. Happy with the balance she’d created, the life she’d built around herself that let her be Agent Prentiss, a member of one of the most well respected teams in the FBI, and Emily, a wife and mother.

“Oh yes,” Carol says, picking up her cup of tea, “You have children.”

“Three,” Emily says, her back straightening at something she picks up in the other woman’s tone, a little too close to judgment for her liking, “Jack, Hazel and Oliver.”

“Lovely names,” Carol says, “Although I must say I was surprised when Elizabeth told us you’d settled down and had children, it wasn’t that long ago it looked like you’d be following in her footsteps and trailblazing yourself a career.”

Emily frowns, her teeth clenched as she takes a second to calm herself down, “I do still have a career, I just happen to have children too.”

“Yes well,” Carol says, waving her hand, “You know what they say - a jack of all trades, a master of none.”

She scoffs, looking to her mother for support, immediately wondering why she thought she’d find it when Elizabeth avoids eye contact with her, a fake smile painted across her face as she stands up from the dining table, “I’ll go check on dessert.”

Emily stays behind after the others leave, barely even attempting to be polite as she exchanges goodbyes with them. As soon as it’s just her and her mother she can’t help herself, the question escaping before she can ask herself if she would even get an answer she’d want.

“Why didn’t you stand up for me when she was saying all those things?” She asks, her arms crossed over her chest as Elizabeth freezes and sighs.

“I wasn’t going to cause a scene,” she says, standing up to walk over to the small bar cart in the living room, pouring herself a scotch, “And besides, she didn’t say anything rude.”

Emily laughs, “She didn’t say anything rude? She basically said because I’m working and I’m a mom I’m not doing well at either of those things,” she scoffs and shakes her head, “She may as well have called me mediocre and be done with it.” There’s a pause, a flash of something across her mother’s face that she’s sure she wouldn’t have seen if she wasn’t so good at her job. For a moment, she wishes she wasn’t, that she didn’t feel the drop of her heart into her stomach as her arms fall to her sides, “Wait….do you agree with her?”

Elizabeth stares at her for a second, as if weighing up her options, and she takes a sip of her drink, “Well, you did love to travel when you were younger, Emily. I always assumed you’d do a job that took you all over the world. It wasn’t until you started dating Aaron I ever thought you’d settle down and have an ordinary life.”

Ordinary.

The way her mother says it makes it sound like poison, like something that was infiltrating her life and tearing it apart from the inside out. An awful, ugly thing instead of the beautiful thing that tied her life together like the finest gold thread. It was something she never thought she’d have. The house and the husband and the children. The cat that never used the cat flap they had installed, happy to curl up at the end of one of the kid's beds instead of ever venturing outside. The school drop-offs and the PTA meetings and the last-minute rush to the grocery store for ingredients for cooking class when Jack told them about it at the last possible second. It was normal, and ordinary and hers. And it was everything she had fought for.

It was everything she had died for.

Emily had let a lot slide over the last few years, let countless comments go about herself and sometimes even Aaron because Elizabeth loved her grandchildren. What she’d lacked in being a mother she made up for as a grandmother. She bought them gifts that they actually liked, she listened to them. On Hazel’s first birthday, she’d crawled into the playhouse they’d bought the little girl, acting so unlike herself that Emily had thought she was seeing things. She was grateful her children had someone else in their lives who loved them, so she put up with the fact her mother had never loved her like that.

All of that disappears as Elizabeth’s words wash over her. A quiet, almost dull, confession that hangs in the air around them a bitter pill that erases any good nature Emily had for her mother.

She chuckles humourlessly and shakes her head, turning away to wipe angry tears from her cheeks, “I’ve got to ask, Mother,” she says, turning back to look at her, her hands thrown up in defeat, “Why did you even have me? If you think me having children is so…ordinary, why did you have a kid?”

Elizabeth sighs, her hands on her hips, “Emily-”

“Was it because it was what was expected? You and Dad weren’t as careful as you should have been? What was it?” She demands, not sure she even wants the answer, the sadness and fury rolling in her gut in a way that makes nausea burn up her throat. The silence they fall into is suffocating. Thick and cloying as it settles in Emily’s lungs, making it hard to breathe. She looks down at the floor, her arms tight over her chest as she presses her lips together, desperately trying to hold herself together, “I have a good life.”

“I never said you didn’t,” Elizabeth says, “I only said I’d thought you’d make different choices.”

“Do you mean better?” Emily asks, her glare unrelenting, and Elizabeth simply looks away, her silence the only answer Emily needs.

It seems ridiculous. Absurd in a way that makes her laugh, because she can’t imagine how life could be better. She knows that if she’d made different choices, if she’d taken Clyde up on his offer of a job and a new life she would have enjoyed it. She would have been fulfilled and happy but it would have been different to what she had now. Another life she’d now never know, something she couldn’t compare to the life she did have because it didn’t exist and never had. She had no regrets, could never regret even for a second choosing this over anything else. It was her life. Her beautiful, ordinary, life.

Anger and sadness and everything in between swell in her gut again, making her stomach roll as she clenches her fists at her sides. The burn of her short nails into her palm is familiar, and for a moment she’s 12 years old standing opposite her mother in her office, her nails digging into her palms as she’s told off for not acting as she should have, for getting grass stains on a skirt that cost more than most people made in a month. She shakes it off, an unsteady breath caught in her chest as she’s brought back to the present, to standing in a room just down the hall from her mother’s office over 30 years older and somehow just as silently crushed as she had been when she was a kid.

It was a feeling she’d promised herself she’d never inflict on her own children. A mantra that had started years before she had them, when she was just a kid herself with her hand pressed into her lower belly as the medication she’d been given by the doctor started to work. She’d be better. She told herself again and again that one day, when it was right, she’d be a mother and she’d be better. It’s a promise she made Declan when he slept up against her on the nights when Ian wasn’t there, his fear of his father pressed against her neck as he asked her if he was in trouble again. She makes the same promise to Jack when she realises she’s stepped into a maternal role in his life, her relationship with him so tied up in her relationship with Aaron that it feels like it happens overnight. She’d be better. She says it again to Hazel just a few hours after she’s born, and again with Oliver when she holds him for the first time. She’d be better.

She was better. She knew that. Her children ran towards her, not away, when they were sad or hurt or sick. They sought her out, snuck into her embrace at any given moment, slipping under her arm as she sat on the couch and they should already have been in bed. Aaron often joked he could disappear and no one would notice, something she’d always quickly refute, the idea of him not being right by her side enough to make her shudder.

“Better than what? A man who loves me the way Aaron does? Than my children?” Her voice cracks and she clenches her teeth to try to steady her lower lip, “For the first time my life is normal, Mom. I go to work, I come home. I spend my evenings helping my kids with homework and driving them to recitals. And then I share a glass of wine with my husband because I’m still breastfeeding Ollie and don’t want to risk a whole glass. Then we get into bed and do it all over again the next day. It’s so ordinary it makes me ache sometimes because it’s all I ever wanted when I was growing up,” she growls in frustration when tears slip onto her cheeks and she wipes them away immediately, “My life might be small to you, but to me it’s perfect and I am the happiest I have ever been,” she swallows thickly, pushing down the emotions she refuses to set free until she’s home. Until she’s with her husband - the only person she’d ever truly feel comfortable falling apart in front of. “I’m going home.”

“Emily, there’s no need to be so upset,” Elizabeth says as Emily turns away, an edge of panic in her voice she had only heard a handful of times, “We can talk about this.”

“No,” she refuses, already turning and walking away, “We can’t. I’m going home.”

She’s proud of herself for making it to the car before the tears come in earnest, burning hot with fury as they leave what feels like permanent tracks on her skin.

___

She can’t bring herself to get out of the car.

She sits on the driveway, still buckled long after she’s switched off the engine, her hands still tightly gripping the steering wheel. Even though she’s staring straight ahead, her eyes fixed on the porch that she loves, she doesn’t see the front door open and her husband wander outside. It’s only when he lightly raps on the window, making her jump and pulling her out of her trance, that she realises he’s there. She unlocks the door but makes no other effort to move. He pulls it open and crouches down, his face level with hers.

“Where are the kids?” She asks, her voice tight even to her own ears, any chance she has of insisting she is fine dead and gone before she can even try.

“Ollie is napping,” he says, waving the baby monitor he has held in his hand, “Good thing we get reception out here. And Jack is showing Hazel how to play MarioKart.”

She nods, her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth as she tries to hold herself together, her eyes already burning with tears because of his proximity, “Good.”

They lapse into silence and he watches her carefully, the tightness to her expression extreme even for an afternoon spent with her mother. He places his hand on her knee and squeezes, “I’m guessing because of your general demeanour, and the fact you’ve been sat out here for almost 20 minutes, that lunch went off without a hitch.”

She laughs. It’s wet and painful as it catches on her ribs, the force of it making tears splash down onto her cheeks and she nods, wiping them away, “Something like that.”

“Want to talk about it?” He asks, always sure to give her the option, and she nods, “Okay, well let's go sit on the porch,” he says, reaching over her to unbuckle her belt, “I don’t think my knees could take crouching like this much longer.”

She nods and lets him lead her out of the car, passing him the keys so he can lock it. They sit on the top step leading up to the porch, both of them looking out at the neighbourhood they loved, and he waits her out. Let her figure out what he was going to say, his shoulder pressed against hers as she tries to navigate the emotions swirling through her body, making her dizzy even though she was sitting down.

“She called me ordinary.”

It’s so left of field, so out of nowhere, it takes him a second to react. His eyebrows furrowing as he turns to look at her, his gaze fixed on her side profile as she continues to look straight ahead, “What?”

“Mother she…” she clears her throat, “Well one of her friends did first. Said she was surprised I’d settled down and had kids. After she left I made the stupid decision to ask Mom why she didn’t defend me,” she laughs mirthlessly at herself, “I don’t know what I was expecting,” she finally turns to look at him, her eyes briefly meeting his before she hugs her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them, “Anyway, turns out she agreed. She thought I’d do more with my life than get married and have kids I guess.”

Angry doesn’t even come close to explaining how he feels. Fury that had once burned the walls of his childhood home, leaving the wallpaper singed and smoke damaged, burning in his lungs. He closes his eyes for a moment, takes in a deep breath, and pushes the anger away for now, knowing it’s not what she needs.

“She’s wrong.”

She looks up at him and smiles, shifting so her head is on his shoulder, “I know she’s wrong,” she says, curling her arms around one of his, “I love our life. I love that it’s as normal as it can be with everything we’ve been through. It’s almost extraordinary in how ordinary it is” she sniffs, turning her head to kiss him through his shirt, “If anything, I think I feel bad for her.”

He frowns, resting his cheek on top of her head, letting her melt into his side, “Oh yeah?”

She hums, “I’m sad she can’t see the beauty in it,” she says, tilting her head to look up at him, “And that she probably never will.”

He cups her cheek and leans in to kiss her, his forehead against hers as he pulls back, “That’s her loss,” he says, kissing her again, “I’m sorry, baby. It can’t be nice having your own mother say that.”

She chuckles and shakes her head, swallowing thickly, “No. It isn’t,” she says, blowing out a shaky breath, “But I’ll do better than her. I’ll always think our kids are amazing no matter what they do with their lives,” her lips shake and her eyes close, fresh tears spilling onto her cheeks that he wipes away immediately, “I’ll do better.”

He’s heard her say it before. A whisper against Jack’s forehead after she’d read him a story until he fell asleep. A promise to a newborn Hazel and then Oliver a few years later. He wraps his arms around her, gathers her against his chest as she sinks into him, his lips against her hairline as he replies.

“You already are, sweetheart,” he says, “You already are.”

-x-

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topazy · 9 months ago

Text

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, blood and violence

Chapter: 6.01

You try your best to pay no mind to those staring while you explore the different streets of Alexandria. Carl doesn’t seem to notice as he pushes Judith in her pram, or if he does, he doesn't let on. The first few weeks in your new home have been hard on everyone. Noah was dead. While on a supply run, he was torn to shreds by walkers. A few others had died, including Jessie’s husband Pete, whom Rick shot for killing Deanna’s husband, which resulted in your group getting the cold shoulder from a lot of people who had lived in Alexandria since the beginning, and they no longer thought your people belonged in their home.

“I’m glad Maggie isn’t making you go anymore.”

Since Carl was no longer going to ‘school' Maggie said you didn’t need to either, on the condition you help out with different chores, one of them being looking after Judith. “Me too,” you say, leaning down and tickling the baby’s cheek. “It means I get to hang out with my favorite girl.”

“Carl, y/n.”

You turn to see Father Gabriel walking over. Maggie had overheard him telling Deanna that your people were dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed in the community a few nights prior, so it was surprising he would speak to any of you.

Carl’s tone is sharp. “What?”

“You heard what I told Deanna about your group.”

“What is it you want?” You ask.

“It was about me, not you or your group. I know that now.” Gabriel admits, “I want to help. You tried to reach me back at my church, but I’m ready to learn now.”

“I think you need to tell everybody.”

The older man’s eyes gloss over slightly. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Carl starts to push the pram again, but strops and sighs. “Come by around three. We’ll start with the machete.”

When Gabriel is out of earshot, you say, “That was nice of you.”

He shrugs, “Suppose we gotta keep being nice to each other since we are all going to be living together. Besides, I think he’s still struggling with what happened at his church.”

You smile softly. Carl has always remained kind to others, even when he’s angry. “Yeah, I think you're right.”

—

“Y/n, Y/n!”

Hearing your name being called, followed by a thumping noise coming from the bathroom door, you turn off the water and go to step out, but slip on the shower, stubbing your toes on it and letting out a string of curse words.

The banging continues. “Y/n! Y/n! You need to get out of there now!”

Hearing the urgency in Carl’s voice, you grab a towel, and you step behind the door and open it a crack to hear him say, “What’s going on?”

“We are being attacked; you gotta help me keep Judith and Enid safe.”

The fear in his voice causes your heart to start beating faster and faster. Scrambling, you start pulling clothes on, doing your best to ignore the blood coming from your toe. When you open the door, you see Carl looking towards the staircase, directly at the front door, one hand tightly wrapped around his gun. Hearing you flinch while putting shoes on, his gaze jumps between you and the door. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you lie, trying your best not to whine in pain as you tie the laces on the dirty, worn-out white converse. “Who’s attacking us?”

“I’m not sure. They climbed the wall and just started killing people. Enid saw a man kill Shelly with a machete. They are worse than the dead.”

A large part of your new community, including Rick, Michonne, Daryl, and Abraham, had left Alexandria to lead a herd of walkers away, meaning you were lacking fighters to defend your home. At least you still had Carol, Rosita, Maggie...

“God, Maggie!” You hold onto the banister and pull yourself up. “I need to find her.”

“You can’t go out there; it’s not safe.”

“But she’s my sister.” Tears well up in your eyes. “I can’t lose her too! I’ve just lost Beth; I can’t, I can’t.”

Attempting to comfort you, Carl holds you and places his hands on your shoulders. “Maggie is one of the strongest people I know; she will make it. I promise.”

You knew Carl couldn’t promise you that, but you needed to pull it together because right now nothing was more important than keeping Judith safe. You wipe away a fallen tear. “Okay, let’s do this.”

—

When you went downstairs, Enid informed you that the group invading Alexandria was called the Wolves. It wasn’t clear what they actually wanted; some members of the Wolves were looting houses, and the others were tossing petrol bombs and destroying everything they could.

Sitting back to back in the hallway, watching the front and back doors while Enid kept an eye from upstairs, Judith slept blissfully unaware of all the chaos going on in her crib.

Hearing a loud noise, you flinch. “What was that?”

“It sounds like a car horn.”

You chew on your bottom lips, and the blast of the horn would draw any nearby dead to the scene. “This is just going to keep getting worse, isn’t it?”

“No, my dad will be back soon, along with everybody else, and we will all be fine.”

You let out a deep sigh. You didn’t want to be so negative, but the fear of something bad happening to those you loved weighed heavily on you. Slowly, you look away from the back door and face Carl’s head. A few seconds pass before you lean in and kiss him on the cheek, “Thank you.”

He blushes, and you return to watching the back door. You’re unsure of how long you will wait for something to happen when Carl jumps to his feet and runs out of the front door.

You catch a glimpse of a wolf chasing Ron. Just as you reach the front door, Carl shoots the man in the leg and aims his gun at him, but the wolf tearfully starts begging for his life and for help with his leg. You watch in horror as Carl hesitantly lowers his weapon, and the wolf viciously grabs the barrel of his gun. You sprint to them and pull the trigger, shooting the man in the head.

You just killed someone.

You offer Carl your hand and help pull him to his feet. “Oh shit, your foot.”

You look down and see blood soaking through your shoe. Gulping down, you say. “It’s fine. Ron, you need to come inside with us now.”

“Come on, man, it’s not safe out here.”

Ron thinks it over as you go back towards the house, with a slight limp in your step, and Ron goes to follow but spots Enid in the doorway and storms off.

—

Carol came by to check on you, Carl, and Judith. She informed you that they had taken one of the men prisoner, but the rest of his group had either run off or been killed. You were even more thankful when she told you your sister was fine.

“Thank God,” you say sincerely.

Carol smiles at you and says, “I’m glad you kids are alright. I’m going to go let Maggie know you are here; she was looking for you.”

Just as she leaves, Carl comes back into the room with a first-aid kit in one hand and a note in the other. “Enid’s gone; she left a note sharing, ‘Just survive somehow.’”

He sits on the edge of the couch. You go to grab the first-aid bag from him, but Carl keeps a tight hold of it. You roll your eyes playfully at him and say, “I can do it myself.”

Carl gives you a doubtful look. “You won’t do it right because you’ll not want it to hurt.”

He had a point.

After you were sure there was no more immediate danger, you removed your shoe and sock to assess the damage you had done coming out of the shower, and to your disgust, one of your toes had bruises and was swollen, and one of the nails had split, causing the bleeding.

Not wanting to seem like a big baby, you bit down on your tongue as Carl cleaned your foot and wrapped your toes together with a bandage.

“You know, I really could have done it myself.”

He shrugs. “I know, but I don’t mind. I remember watching my mom bandage a woman called Jacqui’s foot up after she tripped and fell in camp one day.”

“What happened to Jacqui?” You ask curiously, since you hadn’t heard him mention her before.

“She killed herself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“She had given up.” Carl shakes his head. “I sometimes think about the camp I stayed in when the outbreak first started. I miss it. The day my dad found us was probably the best day of my life.”

“I miss the farm; I miss my daddy.” Feeling your eyes start to tear up again, you pat at Carl’s hand. “But if you hadn’t left that camp, then we never would have met.”

You sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, then Carl moves closer to you, saying, “Thank you. For saving me.”

“Don’t thank me; you would have done the same thing.”

Closing your eyes, you try to push the memory of what happened to the back of your mind. You take a sharp intake of breath when you feel Carl press his lips against yours lightly. He pulls away after a few seconds and says, “I…I… shouldn’t have...”

You kiss him back. You remain lip-locked with Carl, your best friend, until someone clears their throat. You jump back, and Carl stands up, his face flushed red with embarrassment. “Hi Maggie,” he says nervously. “I’m just going to go and check on Judith.”

Maggie has a wide grin on her face; she found it amusing how awkward you looked. “I came as soon as Carol told me where you were; she said you'd hurt your foot.”

“I hurt it earlier, but it’s fine now.”

“Really?” She sits down on the edge of the table across from you. “Carol said it was bleeding and bruised.”

“It was, but Carl bandaged it.”

“With his mouth?” She laughs.

“Don’t.”

Maggie tries her best to hide her growing smile with her hand. “Okay, so I gotta ask, do you know how protection works?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? Because I remember what it’s like to be a teenager with raging hormones. You are both smart kids, but you’re almost nearly sixteen.”

Heat rushes to your face. “Oh my god, Maggie, seriously?”

“Y/n, I’m being deadly serious. This is an important subject, and I just need to know how much you learned before.“

You cut her off. “Of course I know how babies are made. Why the sudden interest in my sexual education, aside from trying to embarrass me to death?”

“I’m pregnant.”

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