#Rick finally gave the series a name

[dam-nosebleed]

just picked up my PRE-ORDERED copy of wrath of the triple goddess💪

[sleepyangelkami]

PERVERTED II c.grimes

 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 3.5K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - carl decides to go through with this weeks saturday sleepover. so far, he's been able to control himself. until, that is, he hears you whimper his name in your sleep.

 𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, slight angst, somnophilia, thigh riding (kinda), fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, wet dreams, sex dreams, innocence kink, corruption kink, dom!carl, sub!reader, noncon, heavy manipulation, use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

series masterlist

"you sure you don't wanna come?" rick questioned as he took a box from his son, landing it inside the back of the truck. "we could use the help."

carl watched his dad place a hand on his hip before shaking his head, hand on his hat. "no, i promised y/n i'd stay over. can't miss saturday sleepover can i?" he'd laughed yet he knew he wouldn't wish to miss it for the world, either. rick gave him a look, lips slightly perking up as if he knew something. "what?"

rick wasn't born yesterday either. he was well aware what it was like to have a silly crush, especially at that age. but this... this was much different. "nothin'" before packing in the last box. "you be good, alright? don't ruin the house while glenn and maggie are gone."

the two were going on the supply run with him, along with many more of the fighters. "bye, dad." watching him get into the rusted car.

and so, the day went on.

by the time lunch rolled around, carl still hadn't seen you. however, he wasn't entirely alone. he soon found ron who decided to help him look for you. in return, you'd also be looking for his also missing girlfriend, enid.

"they're always running off." ron muttered under his breath. he knew enid was close with you, possibly your best friend had carl not been thrown into the mix. enid was always running off with you, slinging you around by the arm. "hey, what's the deal with you two anyway?" carl's head peeked up, brows knitting together. "is she like your girlfriend or something?"

his mind moved like puzzle pieces. girlfriend. carl had never had a girlfriend before but he was pretty sure you had to kiss and all that to actually be in a relationship. then again, you don't touch yourself with your 'friend's panties sitting on your dick. he cleared his throat. "no... no we're not together."

saying you were his friend didn't seem all too right but saying you weren't his girlfriend didn't seem right either. you were something.

but ron didn't look convinced, rolling his eyes with his brows raising slightly. "whatever, dude." was it really all that obvious to everyone aside from you? carl thought that if there was a competition on the most oblivious person alive, you'd win.

but perhaps that was the easier option. would he have preferred you to know? everything seemed so easy with the fact that you were so oblivious. it was like a reminder that he could do anything he wanted right under your nose.

"finally." hearing the mutter from ron, carl looked up. this was when he was met with the sight of you, as pretty as ever, sat next to enid on a bench near the town's pond.

carl could barely look at you. the way you sat with your legs folded, smiling away innocently, completely unaware of what he'd done last night. you wore a pretty skirt, enough to slightly hike up your legs, giving carl a view of the pretty plush of your thighs.

he could only imagine digging his hands around the plush, holding it and kneeding the skin. he could only imagine grasping your thighs, holding them close while he rammed his di―

"there you guys are!" ron exclaimed causing carl to shake his head, ridding himself of the thoughts he'd been having. "carl and i were looking all over for you." he had this voice he used when he spoke to girls, one that carl could guarantee was not the voice he used with him.

enid only rolled her eyes. the sight of her boyfriend and carl was enough to have her smile drop. "well, we weren't looking for you." she mumbled. some may say she didn't like anyone aside from you, not even her own boyfriend. carl didn't think there was much of a point of being with someone that you didn't even like. "hence the getaway pond."

ron must have thought she was joking because he came up to pinch her side and kiss her cheek. the sight alone had carl's stomach turning.

however, the sweet sound of your lulling voice was enough to bring him back. "hi, carl." you beamed at him, smile as wide as ever. he hadn't even registered you moving from the bench to his side. all he remembered was the feeling of you snaking in next to him, your body so close. suddenly, he felt so dirty. "we were feeding the ducks." smiling like a child on christmas. you always smiled like that, like you had a thousand things to be smiling about. it always made carl wonder if you were truly made for this world at all.

when he was around you, he was fighting off his own smile. yours was so contagious. the way his lips curved upwards told you he was happy for you, he always was. "that's great ba― y/n." correcting himself as his expression faltered, smile wavering.

he watched as your entire face fell.

he was unable to bring himself to call you those cute names. baby, sweetheart, like an old couple who'd spent their entire lives together. he couldn't bring himself to say such things after he imagined himself fucking you just the night before. it didn't seem right, not when you were so oblivious to the dirtiness behind his words.

the smile wiped clean from your face, carl was sure you could have cried.

you reminded him somewhat of a kicked puppy.

he'd been the one to kick you.

he never called you y/n, unless speaking to someone else like his father or even ron. this was because they'd hardly understand who you were if he was referring to you as sweetheart.

the point was, he only used your name if it was wholeheartedly necessary.

you wondered what'd changed.

your mind ran back to the night before. when he'd entered your house, looking awfully suspicious and at the sight of you, he practically rushed out the door. had you done something wrong? your heart ached at the idea that you may have upset him. a heart of gold, some people said you had. carl had to beg to differ. the look on your face explained all he needed to know, a heart of mere paper.

he regretted it the moment he said it.

he knew how you got, how all up in your head you could be. he could only imagine how you'd be for the rest of the day, going over every interaction you've ever had with the boy and wondering where everything went wrong, where you messed up.

the moment your name slipped from his lips, he thought it may have been better to call you anything else in the entire world. even if it was laced with the dirty undertone.

he felt your body move slightly away from his, eyes cast down on the ground to avoid any glances. "'m gonna go see aaron." you announced, rather loudly too.

"okay." enid responded, her eyes glancing you over before turning to carl, a slight glare, if you will. she didn't particularly like carl, though carl hadn't the foggiest idea why. perhaps it was because she was so protective of you. carl had to roll his eyes, if anyone knew what was good for you, it was him. "don't stay out too late."

you didn't respond, grasping your bag that sat at the bench before turning onto the footpath.

carl had to purse his lips. "wrong way." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

with slightly wide eyes, you realised he was right. spinning around on your heel, you began walking left instead of right. "thanks." you mumbled under your breath before continuing your walk to one of your favourite people in the entirety of alexandria.

back at the pond, carl was cursing himself under his breath before turning around to find two accusing pair of eyes sat on the bench. one pair belonged to enid, the other to ron. "what did you do?" was enid's accusing tone, her face hard as stone. carl was on the receiving end of this look very often, he didn't fear it... well, he feared it a little but not as much as before... okay he feared it.

"what do you mean what did i do?" he instantly fell to defending himself. despite the fact that he knew he was the reason for your declining mood. "i didn't do anything."

whether it was to intimidate carl or that she smelled the sort of fish smell of ron that carl had smelt earlier, she perked up on the bench, loosening her boyfriend's arm across her shoulder. "she looks like a deflated balloon." she argued.

"yeah." ron nodded his head. carl couldn't stop the glare he sent his way, what did he know. "everyone knows aaron's like her very own guidance councillor, his boyfriend too." he shrugged his shoulders. "whatever you did, i'd say fix it quick."

the brunette boy only glared at the couple. "thanks guys, for that enlightening advice. but i don't need it, okay? i didn't do anything."

on the contrary, he was well aware that it was his fault. he needed to fix it and he needed to fix it fast but he didn't need enid and ron whispering in his ears. nobody knew you like carl, they didn't know what they were talking about. they hadn't seen you crying over some stupid movie you watched. they didn't see you smiling the way he did, they didn't take notice like him.

they'd never understand what it was like to know you. only carl would. and he'd make sure of that.

the sun was setting by the time carl had made it to your house. you'd opened the door, taking him in with your eyes before allowing him inside. maggie and glenn were on the run so the two of you headed straight towards the bedroom where'd you'd begin the movie night. however, carl was more focused on the fact that you'd spoken barely four words to him tonight rather than which disney movie you'd force him to watch this time.

he knew you were in your head but you wouldn't utter the words because what were you meant to say? hey carl, why didn't you call me baby? something so simple had ruined your entire day.

however, carl couldn't keep it in anymore. "are you okay?" he blurted out after many moments of silence as he sat atop your pink bed sheets.

you, at the foot of the bed pursed your lips. you pressed play on the movie and allowed the credits to begin. you weren't the type of person to insist that you were fine if you weren't. carl liked that about you, he never had to guess. "are you mad at me?" voice meek, like a childs.

the realisation hit carl that despite what he was feeling for you, he'd have to push it down in order to continue your friendship. at least, he couldn't take it out on you. "'course not, baby, c'mere."

the name fell from his lips like sweet relief.

it suddenly occurred to the boy that you needed him. desperately so. something as simple as calling you by your first name had thrown off your entire day. carl should have been worried, concerned even. instead, his heart fluttered a little.

you truly did rely on him.

with a sigh of relief, you found yourself crawling up to the boy. today had been so long with you being in your own head so when you felt the feeling of his hands sneak around your waist, it was like coming home after a long day at work.

you couldn't see his face but if you could, you'd see the sheer nervousness on his face. he needed to control himself but he wasn't sure how that was possible while you cuddled up against him beneath your bed sheets, clad in your pretty pale blue shorts and your white spaghetti strap top.

your knee was bent, extending over the top of his legs. there was a sharp intake of breath as your knee gently bumped against the prominent bulge in his shorts. you hadn't noticed, he knew you hadn't noticed and to make sure you wouldn't notice, he reached over to switch off the light, clearing his throat. "so, uh, what are we watching?"

"the princess frog." you answered, turning your head up to look at his face as he groaned.

a look of displeasment was evident on his face. "it's so boring!" he practically gushed.

offence hit you like a truck. "excuse me!" you battled. "i'd like to see you opening up your own restaurant all by yourself." even carl had to admit, you got him there.

carl never understood why you picked movies that you fell asleep so early during.

he heard your soft snores and your gentle breath hit the crook of his neck within the first half hour of the movie. though he couldn't blame you. truthfully, he could only blame himself in how he had your head messed up, practically knocked off your shoulders for the entire day.

it took until almost a full hour into the movie for you to stur.

at first, carl thought he'd misheard it. a little noise falling from your lips. then, he heard it again.

he held his breath as he heard the whimper leave your lips.

then, he felt it.

the gentle roll of your hips against his thigh had him practically seeing stars. the boy glanced to the tv hoping for some kind of a distraction from his obvious hard on. he couldn't wake you up, not because he actually couldn't. but because he wasn't too sure if he wanted to.

admitting it sounded like nails on a chalkboard but he'd be lying if he said he did want to. the little whimper you let out, sleepily and lowly albeit, into his ear was enough for him to almost completely loose his control.

it was like he was dreaming, it was everything he'd dreamed of, especially the night before.

you sounded even better than he'd thought.

he shouldn't have laid so still. you weren't aware of the way your hips bucked onto his leg, a little whine stretching from your lips. he reminded himself that you were too busy sleeping to understand what was going on. he couldn't engage with you, that'd be wrong.

so... wrong.

then he'd swore he heard it. "carl." a mumble in your sleep, enough for him to not know whether or not you were actually sleeping. he took a glance at your face, eyes screwed shut.

he was imagining things, he had to have been.

you soon rolled over, leaving him laying very stiffly as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening.

you were having a wet dream, obviously. that'd never happened before, at least not while cuddled up against carl. but he could have swore he heard you say his name. he shook his head, knowing he was wrong, he was so caught up in what had happened the night before that he was imagining you breathe his name.

then, he heard it again.

this time it was more stretched out into a whine. due to the movie on in the background, he could vaguely make out the way your cunt rutted onto nothingness, the mattress maybe but it wasn't enough to cause any real friction.

his mind stirred. if you really were having a dream about him, surely it was only his duty to... help?

but it was dirty, downright perverted.

but your noises were growing needier, obviously the bed wasn't enough for you to create real friction from. he had to help you. "poor girl, can't even get herself off." he mumbled under his breath, not enough to wake you up.

if he were to touch you, it wouldn't be for him. no, he was doing this for you.

he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't wake. on the contrary, you'd sleep through an asteroid should it hit your home.

he reached his hand down beneath the covers, holding his breath. he was helping you, he reminded himself, helping you. this was for you, making sure you felt good as your dream continued. your dream of him.

suddenly, he wasn't the all too dirty one. perhaps you were.

his fingers gently felt the core of your shorts, taking an intake of breath upon feeling just how wet you were. it practically seeped onto his fingers, it was a wonder if his sweatpants didn't have a wet stain on them from how you'd been rolling your hips against them.

he breathed in, gently massaging the area you needed him the most, you all but moaned into the pillow, eyes screwed shut.

carl had dreamed of this moment for as long as he lived, he wasn't ready to give it up just yet.

the way your hips jutted into his hand, creating all the friction you needed and you whimpered again, still stuck in slumber, had carl's confidence through the roof.

it was as if saying his name, he realised you wanted it just as much as he did.

how he ended beneath the covers, he wasn't too sure. perhaps it was the newfound confidence he'd gained.

he'd spent too long dreaming of this moment to stop now. he breathed as shallow as a man could before his fingers travelled back to your shorts, gently pulling them away from your aching cunt. that was when he realised you hadn't been wearing panties. did you do that often around him? had you been... expecting something?

nonetheless, carl was more than willing to give it to you.

his breath fanned your pussy, prettier than his sick mind could have ever mustered. the image would be burned into his head, it'd never leave. one thing was for sure, this boy wasn't leaving the next morning without putting his mouth to your cunt.

and that was exactly what he did.

his tongue reached your pussy, licking a long stripe and feeling your thighs jump and your body jolt. obviously, never been touched.

he knew it'd be him who touched you first. now, it was just him making sure of it.

he licked again, your wetness gathering on his tongue. he tried to hold back the groan that spread throughout your entire body. yet, you still lay sleeping. it somehow only egged him on further. he knew you wouldn't wake. to him, your body was his for the taking. and he was going to take it.

his tongue found your cute hole, hands against your thighs, holding them, trapping them down.

tongue dancing across your clit, he heard you moan even louder, still trapped by slumber. his lips curved upwards, tongue circling your clit. he moved one of his hands, using his middle finger to gently slide into your sopping hole. so wet for him, already.

he cursed enid and ron for thinking they knew you. he cursed all of the people who thought they knew you. the truth was, the only person you could ever rely on would be him, he'd make sure that you got what you needed, make sure all your needs were fulfilled at all times. perhaps this was just him making sure of that fact.

his tongue moved away from your clit, moving his other hand to meet it. he saw the way your body writhed against his hands. he couldn't wait to do this when you were awake.

it wasn't until your thighs actually began to shake that he knew what was happening. "s'pretty." he mumbled, dazed as drool practically dripped from his mouth. you truly were, the most beautiful thing he'd ever encountered his entire life.

mouth moving back to your cunt, he moved his tongue back against your clit at an alarming pace. with his now free hand, he held your thighs down, trapping them under him as your body shook against him, jutting your hips back and practically rolling your hips against his face. he relished in it. you were practically getting off to his pretty face which told him all the more just how much you loved this.

he felt your hips force themselves back to the bed, shaking and vibrating until your juices poured out onto his tongue.

you'd came.

he lapped you up without second thought, tongue dancing over your hole and licking the juices off the single finger he'd pushed inside of you.

licking his lips, he finally rose. he watched your face lull in your sleep, obviously content and finally getting your sweet relief. he gently moved your shorts to cover your pussy again, as if nothing had happened at all.

it took mere seconds for you to roll back over and onto him, cuddling against his side. he couldn't help but feel even dirtier.

you'd never even know.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[carlsdarling]

Homewrecker

Y/N being jealous and stealing Carl away from Enid. Bit more of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral, cheating

You've had a crush on Carl for a long time, almost six months to be exact, when Rick found you alone in a vacant building, took you to Alexandria and you met his son. You were immediately fascinated by Carl and felt attracted to him - by his beautiful blue eye, his swift movements, his badass attitude and the lovable character that stood in sharp contrast to it. Over and over you dreamed of seducing him, at night caressing and fingering yourself, moaning his name and burying your head in your pillow so Glenn and Maggie, who had taken you in, wouldn't notice.

You lost your virginity a while ago, and there really wouldn't have been anything wrong with just approaching Carl and checking out if he felt anything for you, too, but there was Enid. His girlfriend. You were so jealous of Enid that you could have screamed with rage whenever you saw the two of them together. When you caught them making out in the paddock, you wanted to snap Enid's neck.

At that moment, you decided that it was not possible to go on like this and that you would fight for what you so desperately wanted, Carl.

One night, when you knew Enid was on guard duty and Carl wasn't, you went to find him at his house. Rick opened the door. "Um, is Carl around?" you asked. In your hand you had a couple of comic books as an alibi.

"Yeah," Rick replied. "He's in his room."

You walked up the stairs and knocked until Carl called, "Come in." He was sitting on the bed, hastily adjusting his bandage when he caught sight of you. You didn't care about his scar, you thought he was gorgeous, sexy and charming even with it. Carl simply had a great charisma, and you were all the more envious of Enid. But now she wasn't here, and this was your chance. "Hi, Y/N," Carl greeted you in surprise.

"Hi," you said in a soft, seductive voice and approached him, letting one spaghetti strap of your white top slip off your shoulder as accidentally.

Carl blushed slightly. "What... what are you doing here?" he asked uncertainly as you sat down close to him so he could smell your perfume and feel your body heat.

"I was feeling lonely," you purred, making big bedroom eyes. "And I thought maybe you could help me." You licked your lips lasciviously.

"Help? With what?" Carl was obviously a bit dumbfounded in this regard, so you gently grasped his chin, turned his head toward you, and kissed him on the lips. They felt soft and a little rough at the same time.

Carl took a startled breath. "What are you going to do?" He seemed embarrassed, but at least he didn't push you away right now. That gave you encouragement.

"I like you, Carl," you confessed, "I like you a lot, actually, and I want to show you."

"But I'm with Enid," he protested demurely. His expression was difficult to interpret.

"And has Enid ever suck you off?"

He turned bright red and shook his head.

"There you go," you would breathe a series of kisses on his neck, making him groan softly. You'd show him you were better than Enid. "I want to do this for you. That and more. You'll like it, I promise. I want to feel you, Carl. I need you. I need you badly, every night I think about you." Again you kissed him, and this time he returned the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth before hesitantly pulling away from you again.

He obviously had qualms about cheating on Enid, but Carl also couldn't deny that he was already aroused; he was building a visible tent in his jeans, and his breathing was rapid and frantic as his cheeks reddened. He was so cute. "It... it has to stay between you and me, though," he murmured. "You must not tell Enid about this."

"You have my word of honor," you promised, and immediately you were starting to make out and caress each other, until finally your hands slid under Carl's shirt and you stroked his back demanding. He smelled nice, clean and a little bit of fresh sweat.

He slipped the shirt off and tossed it to the floor, and for the first time you saw his lean, lightly muscled torso, the fair skin, the small tufts of underarm hair, and the strip of soft dark hair that ran from his belly button down and disappeared into his boxers. The sight nearly drove you crazy; so you grabbed Carl by the shoulders and made him lie on his back, then undid his belt and also undid the buttons of his jeans to pull them down to his knees. Carl let it happen, his eyes half-closed, and there was a damp stain at his light grey boxers. His cock was at full erection and was clearly visible under the fabric.

You scattered wet kisses around his belly button until Carl began to moan softly, then you grabbed the edges of his boxers and pulled them down as well. His erection really sprang out, his tip glistened with moisture, and your eyes grew wide: Carl was definitely on the bigger side. His pubic hair was dark and slightly curly.

"Wait," he said hoarsely, sitting up and stripping off his jeans and boxers. Carl was now completely naked, whereas you were still clothed. "I want to see you naked too, Y/N," he sighed, fumbling with your top and bra. Without further ado, you took both off, exposing your breasts.

Carl looked at them ravishedly. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered and began to fondle them, making your nipples hard.

"Lick them, please, Carl," you begged, and he gently began to kiss your right nipple, encircling it with his tongue and sucking on it. You cried out in pleasure and were now finally ready for him, wet as sin, but wanted to give him head first.

Tenderly you kissed his length and then took his cock in your mouth. He didn't quite fit, but Carl moaned heavily and curled his fingers in the pillow, lifting his hips as you sucked gently, letting go of him briefly every now and then to kiss the insides of his thighs and his belly. "Please, keep on sucking," he murmured, stroking your head and supporting your movements with his hand until you suddenly let go of him. His cock was wet with your saliva, veins protruding.

Carl was already in a state of complete euphoria, writhing on the bed whimpering softly and begging you to continue. You took off your shorts and panties. "No, I want you to fuck me now, Carl," you whispered in his ear, leaning over him. He grinded his cock against your belly.

"I've never done this before," he confessed, embarrassed.

"Well, I have," you replied plainly. You were only a year older than him, but unlike him, you had already had some experience. "Do you have any condoms?" He nodded over to his nightstand, and you pulled an as-yet-unopened pack out of the drawer. Jealousy flashed through your mind, because surely Carl had made these preparations for his first time with Enid. Well, screw Enid, you thought. Carl took one of the condoms, tore open the wrapper, and placed it precariously on his cock. "Oh, let me do it," you said impatiently, pushing his hand away and putting the condom on him yourself.

He awkwardly tried to lie on top of you, but you beckoned him to stay on his back. "I want to ride you," you said breathless with desire before guiding his cock to your willing pussy. "Be careful at the beginning," you whispered into Carl's ear. "Very gently."

Inches by inches he penetrated you, his whole body tense with excitement. It was wonderful to finally feel him inside of you. Instinctively, he began to make soft thrusts, and you moved your hips synchronously with him. You immediately found a rhythm together, and both of your moans and sighs filled the room. "It's so good," Carl moaned. "You're so tight and hot." His thrusts were getting faster and faster, and he was going into ecstasy, forgetting everything around him. "Y/N, I'm... I'm cumming, I'm..."

"Me too," you said, leaning forward so he could pull you close as he now reared up and shot his load into the condom, moaning heavily. A loud scream escaped you as you also climaxed. You looked lovingly into each other's eyes and shared a long kiss before you dismounted from him.

Carl removed the condom, knotted it, and wrapped it in a Kleenex before dropping it beside the bed, then hugging you tightly. "That was wonderful," he murmured exhaustedly, pressing little kisses to your lips.

"Yes," you replied, "I have patrol in a minute. I have to go," you said regretfully a moment later.

"I don't want you to go," Carl pouted.

You gave him a kiss on the forehead and got ready to leave. "I have to though," you said, gathering up your clothes.

"Um, Y/N..." said Carl shyly. "Can we maybe do this again?"

You jammed your hands into your sides. "Depends," you informed him. "If you pick me and dump Enid, we can do it every day," you offered with a seductive glance in your siren eyes.

The next night, just as you were about to go to bed, Glenn called you to come downstairs. "You got a guest," he said, perplexed. "Carl's out on the veranda."

Carl looked toward you with a smile on his lips as you closed the door behind you. "I just broke up with Enid," he said, embracing you and immediately kissing you passionately. "I want to be with you."

You won.

[deanwritings]

The Guest House - Chapter 10

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,180

A/N: Know it's been a while and appreciate everyone's patience!

It takes a little over an hour for Dean to finish up the two cars. Having been taught your lesson, you handed Dean the correct tools he requested, though he did remember to say “please” each time he asked. 

From time to time he would explain what he was working on, not that it meant much to you, but you were starting to pick up on a few things, which you were hoping to take home with you so you wouldn’t feel so helpless the next time you went to get an oil change.

“So how did you even meet Rick?” You lean against a pillar as Dean rolls out from the Stingray, shutting off his head lamp as he stands. He lets out a chuckle at your question. 

“I’ve actually known him most of my life.” Dean gently rests against the hood, crossing his arms. 

You just raise your eyebrows, hoping he’ll elaborate. 

“My dad used to come here all the time growing up, and so did Rick.” He continues. “They were around the same age and they kept in touch as they got older. My dad used to bring us up here when we were kids. I loved it, but Sam and my mom would spend our visits up here swimming at the lake, but my dad and I would be sitting in those bleachers.” He points out the windowed garage door to the grand stands.

“It would be July and it could be 120 degrees between the heat and the cars, but there was nowhere else we’d rather be.” He reminisces with a smile but he keeps his eyes on his oil-stained boots. 

“Rick is cut from the same cloth. He stopped coming around as I got older, got busy with his fancy life in the city, but when he ended up buying this place, he reached out to my dad and I, would get us in the ‘VIP’ suite, which were just his seats. He was excited when he found out I started working in Bobby’s shop, and then a couple years later he called me up to take a look at a vintage car he was going to buy. Said he had hired a guy but didn’t trust his report, so needed someone he could count on. I was just twenty-one, but he trusted every word I said, and I’ve been working for him ever since.”

You smile across at Dean, not that he sees it. Whether intentionally or not, Dean was opening up to you, more of him becoming unraveled. And there’s one question you’ve been wanting to ask him for weeks now, and you finally felt comfortable enough with him to post it.

“And what’s the deal with you and Nick?” You ask quietly, nervous that you may be overstepping, but hell, he brought you to a weekend away at his mom’s house. You were well past acquaintance status. 

You think back to that night at Max’s, your first week here, when you had gotten cozy with the blonde-haired beau before Dean had stepped in. Before Dean gave a shit about you, he did that night. And you always wondered why.

Dean takes in a deep breath, keeping his eyes downcast. 

“It started back in high school. It was just teenage stuff; he was the football star, I played basketball. We were both really competitive and it was just a lot of stupid ego stuff. But when Sammy started high school my senior year, Nick took an interest in him, and decided to make Sam’s life hell because of me. He bullied the poor kid almost every day. So I took it upon myself to make sure he never bothered Sam again.” A smirk slowly begins to rise. “Got suspended for a week because of it and almost wasn’t allowed to walk graduation, but it was worth it.”

“And what exactly did you do?” His eyes flash up to you, a devilish gleam in them. 

“I may or may not have rigged his airbags to go off when he turned the radio on one day after school.”

You blanch.

“You can do that?” Dean nods.

“But how did they know that was you? Even if he suspected you, there would have been no way to prove it.”

“Because I was waiting for him in the parking lot and after they went off, I pulled him out of the car and told him if he ever bothered Sammy again I would cut his brakes and make it look like an accident.” Dean doesn’t flinch at the threat, and neither do you. You had two younger siblings, both brothers. You understood. Being the older sibling also meant being the protector, and you had stepped in from time to time when your brothers needed it. 

Dean looks back to you.

“That was the end of it though. Never bothered me or Sam again.” He wipes his hands against each other before shoving them in the pockets of his coveralls. 

“Well I guess I really do owe you for saving me from ‘the town’s biggest asshole’ then.” You smile at him, using his own words from that night. Words you had thrown back at him in rash rage. 

“I would say so.” He agrees, pushing off the car and closing the gap between you. Your eyes stalk the movement, not missing a step until he stops an arm’s length from you. His eyes have that devilish sparkle that twists your stomach in the best way.

“And what exactly do you have in mind?” You challenge, standing up straighter even though your knees feel weak. 

“How about dinner?” His voice is low, shared only between the two of you even though there’s no one else around. 

Your eyes widen.

“You’re asking me out?” You gawk, practically breathless. His lips slowly curve up and he doesn’t break your gaze.

“I’m saying you can make it up to me by taking me out to dinner.” Your face and stomach drop, irritation rising like bile up your throat.

“Are you serious?” You cross your arm and drop your hip. 

“Sure am, sweetheart.” He purrs. You respond with a heavy breath out of your nose.

“I literally just bought you lunch the other day.” You snap. “Explain to me why it’s my responsibility to keep feeding you?” You bite, ignoring the fact that you had bought him lunch the other day as a thank you for taking you hiking. But he didn’t need to be reminded of that. 

Instead of waiting for an answer, you side step from him and walk towards the exit.

“Where are you going?” Dean calls from behind you. You turn on your heel and stare him down.

“Aren’t you done?” You huff, crossing your arms again. “I was headed back to the car.” You throw your thumb over your shoulder.

Dean just annoyingly smiles back at you.

“We’re not taking the truck.” You raise your eyebrows.

“What are we going to walk back?” You retort. 

Dean turns on his heel in response and walks further into the garage.

You wait a second, then two, to see if he’s going to turn around, but he doesn’t. You tap your foot, but Dean still doesn’t turn back.

You drop your arms with a heavy breath and start after him, following him a few stalls down until you see him leaning into the open door of a shining black car, the body sleek and clearly not from this century.

“Is this another one of Rick’s?” You step up to the hood, tempted to reach out and run your fingers down the polished onyx. 

“Nope,” Dean’s voice is muffled through the windshield as he rummages around inside.

“Can you answer a question that doesn’t require me to continue asking you questions?” You scowl, starting to have enough of this little game of his. 

His laugh just echoes as he pushes out of the car and rests on the open door.

“Remember I told you about my baby?” You squint your eyes, the conversation ringing a vague bell. 

You suck in a breath. 

“Your car.” You snap your finger then point it at him and it comes back to you, remembering how absurd you thought it was when Dean shared he called his prized car “baby.” 

Dean raises his eyebrows with a smile, opening his arms wide.

“Y/N, meet Baby. Baby, meet Y/N.” You frown at his exaggerated antics.

“Please don’t make me say “hi” to the car.” You groan, wondering exactly how much Dean loves this car. 

Dean pats the hood and leans in.

“Don’t worry, Baby. She can be nice when she wants to be.” He coos. Your eyes bulge and mouth gapes. 

“Should I be concerned about you? Is this what happens when you spend your life around car fumes?” You cross your arms, half kidding. 

Dean just looks back at you with a grin. 

“Get in the car will ya?” He orders before he dips down and plops into the driver’s seat and closes his car.

You stare at him for a moment through the windshield as he fiddles with something. 

Aunt Rose, help me. You say up a silent prayer before you walk around the car and take a seat onto the white leather bench. 

The inside is immaculate; conditioned, tan upholstery, a shining steering wheel, and a dashboard expertly restored to its former glory.

You run a hand along the felt ceiling, the fibers tickling your fingertips. 

“You really built this car?” You ask in awe as you continue to take in the refurbished wonder. 

Dean presses a button on a clicker attached to his visor, and the garage door in front of you begins to rise, sun chasing in through the windshield. 

“Sure did,” Dean turns the key in the engine, the car roaring to life before Dean flicks down the gear shift into drive. “Got her in a scrap yard for a couple hundred bucks, then would use my paychecks from the shop to buy her new parts. Took me over three years. Which is why I keep her here.” Dean slowly pulls out of the garage, waiting for the car to clear before he hits the clicker again, shutting the door behind us.  

You smile out the window as you slowly make your way down the empty race track towards the exit.

“If you love her that much why not just drive her all the time?” You play with the leather armrest that connects to the door. “Seems like a waste to just leave it in a garage all the time.” You muse.

You don't have many mantras in life, but one you strongly believed in not waiting to enjoy something. Your parents had saved an expensive bottle of champagne for you as a graduation present. They had won it in an auction years before and never had a good reason to open it and figured celebrating your matriculation would be the right time to finally pop it open. By the time they did, it had gone bad and your dad shook his head as he poured it down the drain. 

“Cause I ain’t risking a dent or scratch in her after all the time I put into fixing her up.” Dean waves at the gate agent as you pass through the exit, and you give him a smile as well.

“I’m just saying. What’s the point of having a beautiful car like this if you’re just going to keep her hidden away? You’re like an overprotective father.” You chuckle as you look back out the window at the passing scenery of bare trees and dead grass. March truly was an ugly month. 

You look over to Dean, catching his gaze for a moment before it returns to the road, a smirk his only answer. 

Without a word, Dean leans his foot heavily onto the gas pedal, the needle on the speedometer quickly climbing as the outdoor world begins to blur by.  

His heart jumps into his throat and his smile grows as the car continues to pick up speed. He wants to glance at Y/N, see her reaction, but he’s not reckless, not enough to take his eyes off the straightaway as the Impala ticks past 80 MPH.

He hears you take in a breath, but it’s not a gasp, doesn't sound scared or shocked, and he’s hoping you’re feeling the same excitement that he is as he shoots down the street, the engine rumbling through the front seat as he darts down his own personal racetrack that he’s driven down more times than he can count. 

Which is why he takes his foot off the gas, letting the needle fall before they come up to the bend that takes them back into town. 

It was only a few seconds, mere heartbeats, but it always makes Dean feel alive. 

Once the car is at a manageable speed, he peeks over to you – your hand is braced against the door, but your smile is wide in a silent laugh. He swallows at the sight, a lump growing in his throat before he looks back to the road, taking the turn at an easy speed.

“I know it doesn’t quite compare after Rick took you through the racetrack today, but every time I take Baby out of the garage, I’ve gotta run her.” He beams, triumph heavy in his chest as he shows off his pride and joy, feeling a pure sense of excitement that he truly hasn’t felt in years. 

Dean looks back over to you, your hair swishing as you shake your head. 

“No,” you breathe out with a smile. “That was great.” 

Dean releases a deep breath through his nose he didn’t realize he was holding. Almost like he was worried about your answer.

“Still think you should take her out more.” 

Dean just smirks, revving the engine again and letting the car fly. 

After Dean brings them to a roadside burger stand for lunch, they’re back at Mary’s house. Y/N had excused herself for a shower, and Mary and Dean lounge in the living room, the sun setting behind the windows, while Dean scrolls through social media on his phone. 

“Nice day out?” Mary asks from the couch across from him, a book in her lap.

Dean takes a breath and puts his phone down, hearing her tone. The same tone she had in the kitchen this morning when she was inquiring more about the woman he brought home.

Not taking the bait, he simply replies, “Good. Managed to get all of Rick’s cars done in just about two hours. He’s all ready for tomorrow.” Mary just rolls her chartreuse eyes. 

“And Y/N?” She asks bluntly. “How was your day with her?” 

He knows what his mother is fishing for. Outside of the odd high school fling, Lisa was the only woman he had ever brought home. And here he was, with Y/N, some random girl he met only a few weeks ago, brought here by his ex, showering just upstairs.

The thought lights something in his eyes as his gaze leaves the living room, thinking of the blue and white bathroom he was so familiar with, the lengthy standup shower, enough room for two, where Y/N was probably lathering soap all over —-

“Dean.” Mary chirps, almost like she can see her son’s thoughts on his face. 

“What?” He snaps, heat flushing his neck and cheeks, feeling like a caught child. 

Mary just sighs and moves her book aside, leaning forward and resting her arms on her jean-clad knees. 

“Don’t even start, mom.” He can see the conversation she wants to have. 

“You’re the one who brought her here.” She counters. He rubs a hand down his face and leans back against the cushion.

“Look, I’m just trying to be friendly. She and I started off on a really bad foot, and I’m stuck with her for the month. Also, when I invited her, I never thought she’d actually say yes. I was more being polite.” Which was true, but doesn’t change the fact that when he got her text that she was going to join him for the weekend, his stomach flipped. 

“She just quit her job and lost her aunt.” He continues on thoughtlessly. “She’s spending a month in a place where she knows no one. I’m just trying to be nice.” He sighs, crossing his arms across his chest. 

A soft, but sad smile graces Mary’s lips, and she leans back.

“Well then, I’m very proud of you.” Dean starts to smile, but it doesn’t fully form. He looks across at his mother. “What?” She offers him back a similar smile.

“Just sounds like the two of you may have come together at the right time is all.” Dean frowns as he hears the telltale creak of pipes as the water upstairs shuts off.  

“What does that mean?” He huffs. 

“Well it sounds like she’s going through some big life changes, and so are you.” She offers gently. 

“Oh here we go.” Dean rolls his eyes, his fists tightening.

“Huff and pout all you want, Dean.” Mary chastises her oldest son, who was always the most stubborn of her two boys. “But I think it’s nice that you two found each other when you're both going through a difficult time.” Dean fights the urge to roll his eyes again, knowing if he does, it will draw another chide from his mother. 

“Fine,” he concedes. “It’s nice.” He placates his mother, hoping to end the conversation.

He’s not a charity case. He’s going through a divorce, just like 50% of married people. He’s not the first and he’s certainly not the last. He doesn’t need her pity. Or yours. Not that you’ve offered it. 

Soft footsteps echo overhead, Y/N likely padding down the hallway back to her room. Probably in nothing but a towel. 

“It’s just nice to see you happy again, Dean. Been a while since I’ve seen it.” Dean unfurls at her words, his body slumping with a sigh. 

He’s being a dick. To his mother. 

What an asshole.

He runs his hand down his face again. 

Mary stands and steps around the coffee table, stopping in front of her sullen son. She rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t fight something nice just because you don’t think you deserve it.” She gives him a squeeze. After a moment, she steps away with a pat to his shoulder before she goes.

“I’m going to run to the store and pick up dinner. Any requests?” Dean opens his mouth. “Besides pie.” Mary beats him to it. 

“All good.” Mary nods her head.

“I’ll be back in a little bit.” This time, Dean nods, quietly listening as Mary grabs her keys from the kitchen before stepping out the front door. 

He hears Y/N move about upstairs again as Mary’s car comes to life in the driveway.

But Dean just relaxes on the couch, rests his head back, and closes his eyes.

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[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#7: The Choice (1.01)

gif cred: @machonnes

Ok so apart from a certain dream that comes up later in the premiere, this is my favorite scene of episode one. Andy did a phenomenal job as always and this was when we got to see some signature Rick 'Ain’t Nothing to Play With' Grimes. Craig Tate also was incredible in this scene. And even after already hearing that one line in the trailer so much because I replayed it 1000x leading up to TOWL, hearing it during this premiere was even better...

So they set the tone of this scene right from the jump with dramatic music as Rick unleashes the weapon from his prosthetic fist. He quietly approaches a sleeping Okafor, putting the blade to his neck as he tells him to “Wake up.”

Okafor wakes up calmer than some people do from a morning alarm and just says, “You forgot to salute, soldier.” Rick isn’t here for games so he gets straight into it asking Okafor, “What the hell do you know about me?” And that’s all Okafor has to hear to know exactly what Rick’s talking about.

Okafor starts to quote Rick’s letter saying, “'I think of the dead all the time.'” And hearing him quote that I was like like now I know he didn’t violate Rick’s privacy and read his personal letters to Michonne. 😑 Okafor, sir...

They then show clips of Rick from the TWD series finale when he places a love letter to Michonne in a bottle and throws it in the river like the true loverboy he is. Okafor casually lists out more info he has stating, “Her name, back of the note, your message in a bottle from escape number three.”

Okafor says he found the bottle and also the phones saying, “That was her on the phones, right? Yeah, I looked through those too. The child though - that was your daughter, right?” And Rick has crazy eyes as he hears this.

Aside from the portraitist and maybe Jadis reluctantly, this is probably Rick's first time ever even talking this directly about Michonne and Judith with anyone in years and now he has to talk about his girls with someone who is willing to take them out if need be. ��

gif cred: @vidco

Another thought I had while watching the TOWL premiere is that Judith appears to be an especially sensitive subject for Rick. I think why he might mention her less than Michonne in episode one is because for a parent to have to just not know if their kid is alive is too much to bear. And so I think Rick is a lot more hesitant to let thoughts about Judith's status even take up his mind because it’s too painful wondering if she’s not alive whereas he knows Michonne is likely alive.

Hearing Okafor say he knows all about Michonne and Judith has Rick ready to throw hands and so he yanks Okafor out of the bed and demands to know who else knows about his family. 

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I love Tate’s delivery as Okafor says, “'Michonne' is an unusual name. Not many people out there” (baby, she’s one-of-a-kind 💅🏽).

gif cred: @nerd4music

He continues, “But if you start the search around where we picked you up…that’s potent information.” To me, Okafor calling this 'potent information' implies that he always intended to hold onto what he knew about Rick's wife and daughter so that he could use it as a trump card if ever he needed to get Rick back under control like he's doing right now.

And again, I have to applaud Tate’s performance in this scene because the brand of menacing he chooses is super compelling. It’s understated but still so chillingly in control and he’s a great foil to Rick.

gif cred: @nerd4music

I love how Rick's relationship with and love for Michonne is driving the plot and the stakes in this scene. TWD didn't fully explore Negan picking up on the fact that Rick had a wife, but this exchange between Okafor and Rick in TOWL gave us some insight into exactly how Rick would be if someone learned about his true love and tried to use it against him. 

gif cred: @nerd4music

Rick takes a page from the Will Smith handbook when he slaps Okafor’s neck and pushes him to the ground to let him know he needs to keep his wife’s name out of his mouth. Rick is really ready to scrap knowing Okafor knows about Michonne. 🥊

gif cred: @nerd4music

Okafor keeps talking and Rick punches him in the face so Okafor lets Rick know, “They would have sent me to find you, clean up my mess, and finally erase you. You are my charge.” Even using a term as cold as 'erase you' shows that there’s a lack of humanness in how Okafor views things.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And then Rick proves it's possible to look extremely hot and like a raging madman all at the same time, as he listens to this with a nod and crazed eyes.

gif cred: @richardgrimes

Okafor says, “I’m the one who’d have to kill you and Michonne and anyone else you ran to out there. Just knowing about this—" and y’all, that was Okafor’s death sentence right there.

Telling Rick Grimes you’d have to kill Michonne...oh that’s when I knew Okafor wasn’t gonna make it out of TOWL alive. No one threatens Michonne and lives.

And Rick puts some extra oomph when he kicks Okafor in the face for the mere suggestion. Like please, the golden rule is you don’t come for a Grimes in front of another Grimes and here Okafor got to learn the golden rule by threatening Michonne Grimes like that. 

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Then it’s Rick's turn to weigh in, in that black jacket that really flatters him, when he tells Okafor he doesn’t care why he’s covered in blood and why the bombs go out and don’t come back. (Even tho low key he should care because little does he know those bombs nearly lost him his wife. 😣)

Okafor says Rick does care because he’s convinced any A would be eager to save the world. But Rick has always been a guy whose goal in life is not to be some superhero leader. He wants his world back most of all. And we know who his world consists of.

Rick says, “This isn’t my city. Those aren’t my people.” It’s interesting because in TWD Rick was a leader who treated his group like they were genuinely his people and family, but here with the CRM he's avoided establishing any allegiance to these people whatsoever.

Okafor says everyone in the world is his people, everyone alive, and Rick raises his voice to say, “This isn’t everything!”

I know Rick is fed up because he feels like he found his everything long ago, so to suggest that anything other than his family is more important will just never sit well with him.

He feels this mission and this city is not a paradise for everyone because for him the only heaven he has on earth will ever be Michonne and their kids. 

Rick continues, passionately saying, “You don’t get to choose for the world! You don’t get to choose for me.” I love the delivery of that. Rick already chose what and who is everything to him.

Okafor just casually says, “I don’t. You did. You made the choice.” And first of all, Rick didn’t choose to be here at all so really he’s just had to work with the cards he’s been dealt.

Second of all, he only made the choice to join the CRM because it was a way to get back to the people who are his actual choice --- and who are those people some might ask? Rick will tell you. 😊

Hearing Okafor say this, Rick is like lemme make something as clear as day to you as he says with all the conviction in the world,

“My wife is my choice.”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And now y’all excuse me a minute because the happy dance spirit is going to take over my being every time I hear that line.

Ain’t that line the best thing ever. 🤩 I loved hearing Rick say this and say it so powerfully. It was a great first time hearing Rick refer to Michonne as his wife. And I adore that he says she’s his choice. 🥹

So much to gush over about this one line alone. Rick calling Michonne his wife was big on my TOWL wishlist and this was such a perfect way to hear him say it.

I love that while he was taken before they could marry on the bridge like he wanted, Rick still knows what he and Michonne had was a beautiful love between a husband and wife. Just like Michonne knew it too so she wore a wedding ring around her neck all these years.

When I see Rick say this line to Okafor I like to think about how somewhere on this same night Michonne was in bed alone and little did she know Rick was out here throwing high-ranking soldiers around to let them know that she is always and forever his ultimate choice. Their love is just something else, I adore it.

Also, this line made me think about another time someone Rick had a conflict with brought up Michonne. In s3, the Governor wanted to make a deal with Rick regarding Michonne - infamously asking if one woman is worth it.

gif cred: @chonesmint

And man has that one woman been more than worth it to the point that now when someone speaks on Michonne, Rick can look at them with all the intensity and certainty in the world and say that she is his wife and she is his choice.

And then Rick lets Okafor know Judith is very much included in this as he says, “My daughter. My life is my choice.” Now that’s an A. Saying I’ve made my choice and no one is taking that from me. 👏🏽

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Seeing Rick still be so connected to his wife and daughter, still choosing them above all else, warms my heart. It’s great. 🥹 All these years later he still fights so hard for these two. 🥲

And in declaring his wife and his daughter are his choice it's also Rick revealing to Okafor that they are the only reason he 'chose' to join the CRM and play along. He was never actually bought into any program like Okafor or the CRM might've thought.

Then, Andy just knocks it out of the park even more as he says, “You think I went what I went through, did what I did, to let anyone choose anything for me?” The emotion in those lines was so good and palpable. 👏🏽

gif cred: @msanonships

I just felt everything we’ve ever seen Rick go through all these years flash through his head as he lets Okafor know he’s been through way too much to let someone else start calling the shots on his life. That power is reserved for him and Michonne alone (who Rick happily chooses to let choose things for him 😇).

gif cred: @msanonships

Okafor firmly tells Rick he made the choice and then Rick wants to start throwing shade and calling Okafor out when he says that Okafor lives for the people in the city because he has nothing else but his duty.

Rick's basically saying 'look, you don't have a goddess at home like me so...

Rick calls Okafor a good soldier with nothing and Okafor doesn't take kindly to being read for filth so he hits Rick and tags him to the ground. Okafor gets the upper hand and yells about how he lost everything and how he was the one to bomb Atlanta, which was interesting to learn he was one of the people behind the Atlanta bombing in early TWD.

Okafor reveals he too had a wife named Estelle who was a marine and how she and he didn’t want to keep killing people for nothing. Okafor says he had power and he had a choice and the choice he made was to...kill his wife. 👀 That was a wild confession.

And Rick’s response says he too thinks this is a wild confession especially because he would never do that to Michonne, regardless of a greater good.

However, while Rick would never do that, he does eventually in a way try to kill the relationship with his wife for the sake of protecting Michonne going forward. 

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I like how Okafor has to sorta pause before saying “I killed my wife” and even his cadence is a bit different when he does speak on taking out his wife. It seems to be the one thing he still has at least a little bit of emotion over. Like he says it in a detached way but that pause beforehand lets you know somewhere deep inside the act of killing his wife and thousands of others still stirs him.

It just goes to show when you find a real love there will always be a part of you that feels something for them no matter how detached you become from things.

But then Okafor credits his wife’s choice as one that saved even more people and maybe even the whole world which is clearly how he justifies the act. He’s a mirror for Rick to see what he could become if he officially loses his love - becoming a man who just lives for some greater cause of saving the world even if it means being broken and shut down because you’ve lost the one woman who saves your world. 

Okafor says, “I tried with you, Rick. I tried.” And Rick quietly says “I’m sorry,” cuz even in a fight Rick can still have empathy. Okafor asks what he’s apologizing for and Rick slashes him trying to get the upper hand but Okafor punches him and pulls a gun on him. 

gif cred: @nerd4music

Realizing he’s at a disadvantage, Rick says, “Just let me go” but Okafor says no because Rick is an asset to his plan.

I saw some debate on whether Okafor was ultimately a friend of Rick and I honestly think no. Rick was an asset to his plan and, in a way, Okafor seemed to feel like he owned Rick, even hanging the threat of killing his family over him to keep him on board. So while they may have got to a point of complicated comradery, I think first and foremost Okafor was just a different type of captor of Rick.

When Okafor denies his request to be let go, Rick then puts Okafor’s weapon to his head and begs him to end it. Which is super painful to see. 😢

It also is a very clear depiction of how he and Michonne cannot in fact lose each other and be fine because as Rick realizes in this gut-wrenching scene he now can’t go home to her - not because he wouldn't be willing to keep trying to escape but because he can put his girls in danger if he does - he really just wants to be done with life.

gif cred: @rcsitastark

Rick says, “Do it. Please” and he’s so clearly in despair and agony. 🥺 But Okafor says he won’t grant that death wish. He tells Rick, “They’re still with you. But you fight here now. You fight for them. You already made the choice.” And that part is true - his family is still with him, even tho I know Rick doesn't fully feel like it's true rn, having already lost the memory of Carl and been away from his wife and daughter for years.

It’s devastating seeing a light turn off with Rick in this moment as he realizes he can’t go home to his wife and daughter. You just see his mind and body succumb to defeat. And I found the CRM folk continuously telling Rick that he made the choice to be a cruel act of manipulation.

gif cred: @taiturner

So Rick just stands there with his head hung low as Okafor moves on from Rick's despair and just goes over the next steps regarding the Summit. And again you can see Rick becoming lifeless.

Okafor says this is the start of Rick’s path to the upper echelons of power and Rick tells him what’s always been true when he says, “I don’t want power.” He really never has.

Honestly, in s8 during the Savior War, it was clear Rick was ready to retire even back then. I’m reminded of Danai’s impactful and spot-on words when she described Rick as not needing leadership to be a man but rather being a good man burdened with leadership. It’s never been about titles and wielding authority for him. 

Even in Say Yes, there’s a reason he tells Michonne he wouldn’t want to be the leader of the next world. He doesn’t want power. Really what he most wants for his life is her and their family. 

gif cred: @ex0rin

But it’s fitting that Okafor responds saying, “That’s the thing. You already have it.”

While Rick, as he says several times in TWD, didn’t ask to be a leader, he is a natural one and so whether he wants it or not he does have power and he is someone who can make a difference. Basically, he’s just destined to be Him. Even tho right now he feels cursed to be that guy. 

And while Okafor says Rick has power, Rick is clearly feeling at his absolute lowest and most powerless in this moment, which will now lead to this episode's most heartbreaking scenes and a beautiful but painful last letter. 😔👌🏽

[cooliestghouliest]

LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. one

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: absent dads and mean moms. brief mention of self-destructive tendencies (way more about that later). your brother's a total cockblock. long-winded parental background information. this is really just some stage setting before we get into the nitty gritty.

A/N: this is my favorite fic i've ever written, and now it's coming at you re-edited. it's my verbose word child, sprinkled with a few What The Fuck and Holy Shit moments, dolled up with some silly humor and a dose of hot (and often borderline depraved) smut. a lot's already planned for this, so i hope you enjoy. :-)

—

chapter title: O Brother, Where Art Thou?

You weren’t expecting the high pitch of the doorbell that sounded throughout your colonial-style home, and proof of that was now spilled all over the kitchen floor.

Tiny green buds were sprinkled across the white-and-black linoleum tile, some scattered in the blonde mess of curls that belonged to the boy kneeling before you, his mouth busy between your legs.

You’d been attempting to multitask, rolling a joint while twisted awkwardly at the dining table, the quarterback’s head shrouded by your bare thighs, lapping noisily at your wet center.

You huffed out a frustrated sigh at the spillage, but it quickly turned into a moan when goldilocks gave a particularly harsh suck on your clit.

“You needa get that?” he mumbled against your folds, tongue halting its assault only to speak before diving back in, showing no intention of stopping.

You shook your head, one hand moving to tangle in the his hair, the other crumbling up the now empty and useless rolling paper. “Uh-uh… prob’ly just some Mormons,” you answer, beginning to rock your hips up into the warm mouth covering your cunt. “I don’t wanna be saved.”

Chris… or Carl… or Craig… whatever his name was, laughed, the sound vibrating nicely against your heat. Your toes curled at the sensation, thighs wrapping tight around his ears.

He moaned appreciatively at your movement, running his tongue flat against the length of your opening. Maybe you could keep this one around. He liked New Kids on the Block unironically, but holy shit, he knew what to do with his mouth.

The bell rang again.

And then again, and again, and again.

“Oh, little seeeee-eeee-ster!” came a familiar male voice from the other side of the front door. “I know you’re in there, Bean. I can see your shadow in the kitchen!”

You shot up straight, aligning your posture and pulling Chris Carl Craig from between your legs by the grip you had in his hair. He gave an unappealing whine, his fingers moving up to console his scalp.

Standing quickly, you adjusted your pleated skirt so it fell normal again, just above your knees. “Up, up, up,” you impatiently urged the jock still kneeling on the ground, smoothing your clothing and hair to make sure nothing looked too out of place.

“Who is that?” the blonde asked, finally following you into a standing position, large hand still cradling his head. “Still the Mormons?”

“It was never Mormons, Chet,” you said, hoping your shot-in-the-dark guess at his name was right.

It wasn’t.

“It’s Chad,” he said, eyes beginning to narrow. Whether it was in suspicion, confusion, annoyance, or a combination of all three, you didn’t know. And it didn’t matter. You needed to get him out of here without your new visitor catching sight of him, or else you knew you’d never hear the end of it. Chad was still intent on conversing, though. “We’ve literally been in the same school district since, like, kindergarten.”

You bit your lower lip, offering a sheepish smile. “Right,” you said. “I know that.” You didn’t. “Sorry. Head’s a little loopy right now. Your tongue could win awards.”

With Chad’s newfound cocky grin, you knew the flattery angle had worked out. It usually did. Boys were such suckers for some ego stroking.

“Oh, fuckin’ right!” you heard from the front door, the visitor’s voice now cheerful. The door handle began to jangle, and you heard the sound of a key in the lock.

He must have found the spare. Of course he had. He’d only lived here his entire childhood, just like you.

The key had been in the same place it always had been since moving to Fresno -- under the coir doormat that read Definitely Not a Trap Door, courtesy of your father. He’d made it for the family after moving from Chicago to California for his new teaching position at CSU in ‘70. Your mom still hadn't gotten around to throwing it out, even though she’d managed to get rid of almost everything else inside the home that reminded her of her ex-husband.

The door swung open and there stood your older brother in all his punk rock, Fuck-the-Bourgeoisie glory. Short bleached blonde hair, numerous facial piercings, ripped Dead Kennedys t-shirt, tight red tartan pants, muddy black Doc Martens. He was smiling wide, dopey.

Fuckin' Rick.

You started to match his expression, unable to resist your brother’s effortless and childlike charm, but your smile fell flat when Rick’s now disapproving gaze landed on the blonde still standing at your side.

“A Letterman, Bean? Really?” Rick asked you incredulously, having spotted Chad’s football jacket as the jock in question slid it from its place on the kitchen chair to rest over his broad shoulder.

“What?” you asked Rick coyly, quickly eyeing Chad. “You know I don’t discriminate. I’m a true equal opportunist.”

Chad seemed oblivious to the underlying context of the conversation between the pair of siblings. He was watching the two of you interact with seemingly nothing behind his eyes.

God, so cute but so totally stupid.

You closed the distance between the two of you, Chad looking hopeful he was going to be kissed or something, but you instead reached your hand out to pluck a few pieces of weed from his hair. “You can go now,” you told him, finger tapping his nose lightly.

Chad’s face scrunched at your touch but he then shrugged it off, picking his backpack up off the kitchen floor before making his way to the front door. “See ya at school,” he said to you over his shoulder. Stopping briefly next to your brother, Chad assessed him before saying, “Um, bye, whoever you are.”

Rick pulled his lips into a tight line, raising his brows in amusement. He clapped his hand hard on Chad’s back a few times before pushing the footballer out the door. “Later, loverboy.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

An hour and a half later, you and Rick were seated on opposite ends of the tufted tuxedo sofa in the living room. A box of half-eaten extra cheese pizza laid open in between the two of you.

Some low budget horror VHS was playing on the TV across from the couch, the volume low. You thought it was called Ghoulies. You kept catching glances of tiny, ugly wet looking monsters scurrying on the screen out of your peripheral.

You’d been talking to Rick about senior year at Fresno Central High (you said you were doing great, straight A’s across the board, but in reality, you were failing everything but English and Music).

You'd been talking about work at Spins and Needles, the record store you’d been employed at for a little over two years now (you told him you’d gotten promoted to Assistant Manager, which was true, but you left out the fact that you were on Strike Two of Three for blowing off shifts to get high with some goth kids that routinely came in a few hours before closing).

And you'd been talking about your mom (this you were honest about – “She’s still a huge bitch, Rick, that hasn’t changed”).

But then he tried to bring up your dad, asking in an obnoxiously forced nonchalant tone if you’d heard from him lately.

But then he tried to bring up your dad, asking in an obnoxiously forced nonchalant tone if you’d heard from him lately.

That’s where you stopped him.

You were not going to talk about your dad.

Flipping the pizza box lid shut harshly, you sat up straight and faced him.

“Why are you really here?” you demanded.

Rick sighed, defeated.

He knew you’d catch on soon enough that this supposed innocent visit was actually a planned mission. He’d just been hoping maybe you’d be the one to breach the topic of going back to Indiana with him. Maybe you wanted out of this Californian hellhole. A chance at a fresh start, hundreds of miles away.

But he knew you recently had developed a penchant for self-destruction and self-catastrophizing, which meant getting you to see the bright side and the positives of his request was going to be near impossible.

Still, he had to try.

“Mom called me,” he admitted, which earned him a dramatic eye roll from you. “I know you’re failing your classes. I know your boss has been blowing up the landline wondering why you keep closing up shop so early. And I know mom’s a bitch. I’m trying to save you from her. She said she’s thinking of enrolling you into St. Mary’s.” Rick wasn’t surprised at the bewildered scoff you gave to that, St. Mary’s being Indiana’s notorious Catholic boarding school for wayward girls. He’d finally gotten to the point, the real reason he was there: “Come stay with me in Hawkins, Bean.”

“Wow, Rick, so noble. It only took you, what, ten years to come back for me?”

Rick couldn’t help but flinch, your wounding words accusing. And accurate.

It was true.

Rick, at twenty, had left Fresno in an old RV he’d bought for dirt cheap, with plans to travel the country and get the fuck away from his parents, Ronald and Maureen Lipton.

Or, away from his mother, really.

Ron Lipton was generally fine -- until a certain point in his life. To outsiders, the man seemed to be very happy and very put-together, successfully established in both his home life and his career.

Ron and Maureen had gotten married just a few short months following their high school graduation, after finding out Maureen was pregnant with Rick.

With the draft ever present, Ron enlisted in the army, while Maureen enlisted the help of her mother-in-law to take care of Rick (and eventually you, once you were born, conceived on one of Ron’s short stints back home), so she could work on her doctorate in psychiatry.

After being honorably discharged a handful of years later, Ron had gotten his Master’s degree in education and creative writing.

To the public, Ronald and Maureen Lipton were fantastic at keeping up the facade of Perfect Suburban Family.

In private, however, the Lipton household was like living in a layer of Hell.

Where Ron was imaginative and endlessly inquisitive, instilling a love of storytelling and curiosity in his children, Maureen was passive aggressive and judgemental, harboring jealousy for the relationship her children had with her husband. This eventually festered a spiteful dynamic between her and Ron, and between her and her offspring as well.

When the two of you were younger, Rick in his late teens and you in your last years of elementary school, one of your favorite backyard games was to wonder aloud to each other how and why your parents had ever even gotten together in the first place.

You were both sure that it must have been an arranged marriage of some sorts.

Rick thought maybe your grandparents had made a deal with the devil, and to ensure the safety of the family, Ronald and Maureen were forced to be betrothed for life.

You thought maybe Maureen was an evil sorceress who had cast a spell on your father, trapping him in a loveless marriage that he was an unsuspecting victim in.

The truth was not stranger than fiction.

The reason behind their nuptials was simple, really: Ronald was raised to believe he needed to provide for his family, and after having knocked Maureen up not only once but twice, he was resigned to the fact that this was his path in life.

Devoted father, loving husband.

While he couldn’t stand his wife, her harshness and indignation usurping any positive characteristics she may have once had, Ron did love his children. Dearly.

Rick was his wild child; his rebellious, rambunctious trouble maker.

Ron would sit on the front porch late at night, waiting for Rick to get home and tell him all about his latest escapades. What parties he’d gone to, what girls he’d kissed, whether he preferred the high from acid or mushrooms more. Ron lived vicariously through his son, encouraging the boy to play hard, but to play hard responsibly.

You were Ron’s Little Leia of Alderaan; his opinionated, open-minded warrior, brave enough to stand up to any bully who’d dare to make fun of you or your friends. You were Ron’s daydreamer, his whimsical muse, his daily reminder that there was still innocent softness in this cruel world.

You would have Daddy Daughter Dates twice a week, where you’d do things like go to the roller rink or have picnics in the park, and they always ended with a two scoop mint chocolate chip ice cream cone shared between the both of you.

But Ron’s love for his life dwindled the second he stepped foot inside his house -- where he was forced to occupy space with his resentful excuse of a wife, a woman who would never miss a beat to berate him for every choice he’d ever made in his life.

With your older brother gone, the squabbles between Ron and Maureen got worse.

Rick had been able to placate his father and put himself in the line of Maureen’s fire, taking her verbal hits so his father didn’t have to. You, being only ten when Rick had left, didn’t have much ground to stand on with your parents arguing, and trying to step in as Rick had would usually only make things escalate.

Ron fantasized about leaving, starting over anew. The immediate and resounding “no” that his subconscious always answered himself with, thinking of the kids, dwindled down over time, until all of his fantasizing led him to making actual plans of departure.

Last year, right before summer break was set to start, Ron finally left.

Having taken PTO from the campus, he’d waited that morning for Maureen to leave for work and for you to be on the bus to school. Alone, he took the time to pack all of his belongings, leaving only a few things behind, all with you in mind -- things to remind you of him in his absence. He’d intended on coming back for you as soon as possible, wanting to settle in somewhere before dragging his daughter into his uprooted life.

But it was over a year now that Ron had been gone, and you could count on one hand the amount of times he’d reached out to you.

You could count them on two fingers, actually.

The first time was the night after he’d left, when he’d tried explaining to you his reasoning, which you weren’t at all interested in hearing. You were beside yourself that he’d left you, just like Rick had, except Rick was your brother and that was normal, but Ron was your daddy and he was supposed to always be there.

Your mother, in anger that Ron would attempt to talk to you and not her, had disconnected the call, and while you waited by the phone all night for him to call back, he never did.

The second and last time he reached out was a few months ago, via letter for your 18th birthday. It was postmarked with an address in Fort Worth, Texas. When you’d tried writing back, you'd found the letter you'd sent in your mailbox a week later, marked Return to Sender.

It was mid-November now, and you hadn’t heard from him since.

At least Rick had kept in touch after he’d left.

He’d sent you care packages every month since arriving to Indiana in '81. They were full of sci-fi and horror books he’d found at the local Goodwill or Salvation Army, newspaper clippings for outlandish Classified segments, scribbled notes on stained notebook paper detailing concerts he’d gone to and new bands he thought you should check out.

Remembering this, you softened quickly after accusing Rick of abandoning, your biting comment causing guilt to swirl in your stomach.

Rick had his reasons to leave, you understood that. He was allowed to live his life. And even though he’d done just that, left and lived his life, he still always managed to keep tabs on you. The two of you hadn’t gone more than a few weeks without letters sent or parcels mailed back and forth since he’d first left home.

Never there, but never gone. Not really.

That was more than you could say for your father.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” you admitted, even though the hurt words you spoke did hold some kernel of truth. “It’s just… I don’t wanna have to start all over somewhere else.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Rick promised, choosing to let the accusation of his abandonment slide. He was sure you'd both get into it more later, considering it was a conversation that was long overdue. “The house is too big for just me anyway, and you know I’m fuckin’ shit at decorating. I’ve basically just been using beer cans for bookends and stuff like that – you could make it look way cozier.”

You laughed, sure your brother wasn’t exaggerating.

Rick was about as anti-capitalist as you could get, and that included being a minimalist when it came to possessions. Give the man a hand-me-down couch, a little TV, some weed, his cassettes, and a subscription to Playboy, and he’d be content for the rest of his life.

You were the opposite.

You loved things.

You had many different collections you’d amassed over the years -- your vast assortment of books had spilled from the two bookshelves in your room to several stacks littered throughout the house, much to your mother's annoyance; your vinyls were shoved into four big storage bins stacked under your octagonal bedroom window, which you draped a blanket over and used as a makeshift window seat nook; your cliques of creepy looking dolls you’d collected from estate sales and antique shops crowded your bed, your vanity, the storage shelf in your closet; the bug assemblages you’d been adding to since your childhood had their own corner of your room, little homes full of ladybugs, ants, and deathwatch beetles.

The idea that you could expand your knack for interior embellishing (hoarding, really) further than the confines of one room was one thing that made you start to consider taking Rick’s offer seriously.

That, and the realization that finally getting the fuck out of Fresno might not be such a bad idea.

Because what did you have there anymore, anyway? Shit grades? A handful of mean exes? A dead-end job?

Was any of that worth staying for?

You thought of your dad trying to reach out to you via telephone, imagined your mother answering and telling him you’d moved away and no longer lived there.

If it were only a few months since Ron had left, you didn’t think you would have gone with Rick back to Hawkins. You would have stayed just for the mere possibility that your dad would show up on the doorstep one day, begging for your forgiveness for leaving you alone with your coldhearted mother.

However, it was over a year now that he’d been gone. One year, four months, and fifteen days... if anyone was counting.

You’d never verbally admit it, but you still were.

There was a page hidden in the back of your diary where you kept track.

Your hopefulness was starting to make you sick.

Maybe a change wouldn’t be so bad.

Going back to Hawkins with Rick sure beat being forced to attend an all girls’ reformatory school, one with a reputation that claimed the headmaster performed shock therapy on students in lieu of giving them detentions.

You were sure that was just a rumor, but still. You didn’t want to take any chances.

“Bean, let me be there for you,” Rick said, reaching over to grasp your hand with his fingers. You noted his nails were painted a lime green. “It’ll be just like when we were kids, except now you’re older and actually cool so I won’t be embarrassed to introduce you to all my friends.” Dipping his head to the side, he wiggled his pierced brows, a grin toying on his lips as he added, “And we can smoke weed in the house.”

Pretending as if that alone was what sealed the deal, you stood swiftly. “Say less. You really should’ve started with that, Richard.” You headed off in the direction of the stairs that led up to your room, glancing over your shoulder at your brother who was staring off after you with a relieved countenance on his face. “Gimme an hour and then we can go?”

Rick answered with two thumbs up before grabbing a slice of pizza, shoving as much as he could of it into his mouth as you disappeared up the spiral staircase.

[observeowl]

Unwanted Marriage | Chapter 10 - Mrs Romanoff

Series Masterlist

You were stunned as you looked at the wedding invitation given to you by Sharon. "Y/N, am I mistaking the name of the groom?" Even Wanda wasn't sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Sharon was going to get married to Chase Adler.

"Y/N, don't think I will let you off so easily. Now Chase is going to back me, it's a matter of time when I will get rid of you!" Sharon was still unable to let go of her grudge on you even after almost getting injured. "Y/N did not force you to be with anyone. You are the one that gets yourself involved with Adler." Sharon was about to shout at her when you stepped up to protect her. "You have chosen your own road, nobody asked you to marry him."

"You are the one that pulled us together! The person on that day should have been you! You are really a bitch. You trick thousands of people. You and Chase are the perfect match!" You were no longer going to suffer in silence and gave her a resounding slap. "You bitch. You dare to slap me!"

"What happened? Sharon is looking for trouble with Y/N again?" // "I don't know, it seems that Y/N just hit Sharon." // "All the grudges she bears finally turned into a slap?" In an open office, there was hardly any privacy.

"Sharon Carter! Y/N Y/L/N! Into my office. Now!" Tony Stark came out of his office and ordered. "Millicent, you too."

"What happened just now? Why did you start a fight?" He asked to get to the bottom of it. "She hit me! I just gave her my wedding invitation, does she have to be that angry? I'm afraid that someone had a bad marriage, and is jealous that I'll get married."

"If she doesn't have a good marriage, then who does." Tony thought. "Y/N, you tell me, what happened?"

"Chief Editor, I can't tell you clearly what happened, so why don't I just show you? A fox like her deserved to be hit while walking down the street. I think, any woman would have hit her when they heard someone talk about them like that."

"What do you mean, am I wrong?" Sharon was still adamant on her ways to the end. "Sharon Carter! What happened at the dinner had a serious impact on the company. So I will let someone more suitable to come and take your position. From today onwards, you are no longer editor of Group 1."

"I am demoted? (I never realised this bitch has hooked up to Tony Stark. No wonder she can be this overbearing in the office!) Y/N! You better watch out!"

It was pretty much peaceful for the rest of the day except when Natasha texted you saying she'll be waiting for you outside the building after work. "Ah ha, from your look I can tell it's from the goddess himself." Wanda pushed her chair close to you and ambushed you from behind. You pushed her away and faced away, there was no way you were that obvious.

Once it was time to get off work, Wanda rushed you off saying she'll clear the rest for you. You thanked her before packing your bags and leaving. "Do we have plans today?" You asked as you entered the car. "Yes, I'll take you to meet Rick Mason, he has been wanting to see you."

"Rick Mason?"

"A family friend."

You realised anyone related to Natasha or gets to call Natasha a friend are all very rich people. When you entered the estate. To get to the front gate of this mysterious Rick Mason, you have to drive through a long stretch of road.

"You must be Y/N." He greeted you at the front door.

"That's right, I am Y/N, nice to meet you."

"Hi, you can call me Rick. Come on in. Today I have asked the cook to make some of Natasha's favourite dishes, but I don't know whether it is to your taste."

"It smells nice." You complimented. "Never know that you would be so homely."

"I also know how to cook." Natasha said when he heard you complimenting him. "Really?" You questioned. You can't really picture her standing in the kitchen cutting vegetables. "You don't believe it?"

"Nope."

The three of you began eating and talking and the topic eventually landed on Natasha's legs. "I heard that you have not been to the hospital for a long time for a check up? The doctor said there is still hope, you cannot be so wilful."

"Rick, it's all in the past."

"I know in your heart you will never let it go."

"I understand what you mean, but as long as I don't get some things cleaned up, my legs will not recover." You didn't join in on the conversation as you know it was not your place to do so.

You had a lovely time there but it reached the time where you needed to head home. Rick stopped you from entering the car. "Y/N, ever since she was young, Natasha always has her own ideas, so you try to talk to her."

"Alright, I understand." You were deep in thought as Clint drove the two of you back. "What are you thinking?"

"Nat, haven't you thought of getting your legs checked? Rick is right, there is a chance that you will recover."

"Now is not the right time." She didn't give any more explanation. "Is it because of your stepmother? Were your legs also because of them?"

"You don't have to worry about these things, I will handle it." She has to manage so many things. From your estimation, she took over the company for 10 years and fell into an accident a few years after that. You wondered how she got through it all those years. "You don't have to be sympathetic to me." She pulled you closer to rest your head on her shoulder. "I only hope to see admiration and love in your eyes."

===

"Sharon, this is so pretty." She was flaunting her diamond ring in the office and of course there were people who were jealous of her.

"That's nothing, I think she purposely said it in front of you."

"People love to talk, so whatever, we should let her talk if she wants to." As long as she was not actively doing something against you, you don't want to spend your energy on her. "Y/N, someone is looking for you." A colleague told you.

"I will go with you, I am very worried after what happened last time." Wanda was ready to leave her seat and go with you. "Okay."

"Excuse me, are you all looking for me?" You asked the group of guys. "Are you Y/n Y/L/N?" You nodded. "Please come with us." Wanda became suspicious of them when they didn't state their reason for being here. They showed you their police badge, but it wasn't like you could differentiate the real from the fake "We are the police, we need to clarify with you what happened during the dinner."

"Sorry, I wasn't involved in that incident. You have the wrong person."

"Yeah, the victim is just over there, why don't you ask her to assist with your investigation, we don't know anything."

"Please cooperate with our investigation." They started being forceful and grabbed your wrist. "What are you doing?!"

"Help!, we are being kidnapped!" Wanda shouted. "Give me back my phone!"

"Want to call your lawyer? You should wait till you are in the station first!" The two of you started hitting them in the head and their manhood. "You dare to assault the police! You dare to obstruct our work, you can't get away with it now!"

"Hit the police?" // "Are they really the police?" You and Wanda glanced at each other. If they truly are the police, you just got yourself in trouble...

"What is this?" The voice that you came to hate appeared again. "Kidnapping or assaulting the police?"

"She didn't do anything, don't you want me? Let's go then." You tried misdirecting them. "You actually assaulted the police. Policemen, you shouldn't let them off so easily." In the end, the two of you got escorted out the building by the police with a crowd behind you.

Y/N Y/L/N, you will suffer the same pain as I did! No, it's going to be a hundred times worse! I want to see who will save you in the police station this time!

Two of you were thrown into a room when you arrived at the station. "Wait! I need to inform my family! You have no reason to detain us!" You shouted through the door. "No reason? You both assaulted policemen. Is that not reason enough? Just stay here and shut up!"

"What are we supposed to do now?" Wanda asked. "Where is your phone?"

"They have taken it away saying that I cannot bring my phone." Wanda sadly revealed. "Just now when we came, I heard those people were making a call to Adler."

"Adler? Chase Adler?"

"If it's really him then what should we do?" Wanda asked. "Don't worry, it might not be such a coincidence. I mean if it is Adler, he is trying to get back at me but not you."

"Look at this, such deep sisterly love, so touching." A sarcastic clap sounded. "Of course it's me! Last time you escaped, but this time you are at my place. I want to see how you can escape." He makes his way closer to the both of you. "What do you want?"

"Aren't you clear what I want to do? Don't worry, I have prepared a lot of things today, you will like it."

"Adler! Do you know where this place is? Aren't you afraid that people will know about it?!" You shouted at him. "I told you, this is my place. My dad is the Chief of this police station, do you think they dare to leak anything out?"

"Ad-Adler, you, you calm yourself down, just let us go, okay?" He ignored Wanda's words and told his subordinates to hold her and separate the two of you. You screamed for them to let her go but Adler was very focused on you. "Y/N Y/L/N, if you beg me, I might be nice to you." He said in a sickly sweet voice. "Stop dreaming!" You spat on him and shouted.

"Bitch!" He wound his hands and gave you a slap before grabbing you by the throat and pushing you at the wall. "I think you prefer the hard way! The more you resist the more I like it. No hurry, later you will know what heaven is!"

"Adler, you will regret this!"

"I will be a happy ghost even if I get to die underneath the peony flower, but you can think of how you can make it happy so that I might be gentle to you!" He tightened his hands around his neck before dropping you to the floor.

Your pants rode down a little due to the movement and Adler was about to seize the opportunity when you pushed him away and adjusted your clothes. "You stupid whore, stop pretending to be chaste! You just wait there like a good girl and I'll guarantee that you'll feel like you're in heaven!"

"Bastard!" He wasn't fast enough to react as someone wrapped his arm around his neck and slammed him to the floor. "Who was that?! How dare you? Do you know who my father is..." He dragged on when he saw a cane in his peripheral.

"Dad? Why are you here?" He asked. "How dare you randomly arrest people here?!"

"Dad, don't you already know about this..."

"Shut up! How dare you say that!"

"Dad?"

You flinched when you felt someone touch you but her scent surrounded you made you look up. "Don't be afraid, it's me." It's as if her voice is opening a door and rescuing you from this never ending darkness. Tears cascaded down your face when you realised you were finally going to be safe with her.

"Ms- Ms Romanoff? Why are you here? This..."

"Ha, how can I miss a show that you prepared so well for? After all, you secretly took my wife here!" Her hands didn't leave you even when he was talking to Adler. "Wi-wife? Dad, I didn't know!"

"I am really sorry, Mrs Romanoff, my son is truly ignorant, this is just a misunderstanding... Sorry for troubling you... you can deal with this however you like." His son looked up at his Dad in shock, why was he not defending him? "This is all because... this is all Sharon Carter's fault! I really don't know anything!"

"Sharon Carter, Sharon Carter! You don't know anything even though you're married? Aren't you ashamed?!"

"What's wrong with our Adler Family?! What did we do wrong that we're afraid of Natasha Romanoff?! Is it because of her vicious tactics? No matter how vicious she is, she's just a disabled guy! What can she do to us?" He reached over to grab her legs and Clint was about to intervene when Natasha told him to stop. "Dad! Look at how she's lost her mobility! She can't even walk, why should we be scared of-?!"

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt a foot on his face, kicking him to the floor. Natasha folded her leg rest and pushed it aside before standing. Adler was visibly shaking when he saw Natasha standing in front of him. "Even if I am disabled, I won't let the Adler family off!" When she spoke in a calm tone, it made her even scarier.

"Na...tasha?" You looked at her. To see her standing was not something you imagined. At least not so soon. She walked closer to you and lifted you up bridal style. "Y/N, from now on no one will dare to hurt you. Because, I promise, even if the whole world is against me, for you, I will let the whole world know that Y/N Y/L/N no longer exist, only Y/N Romanoff. And that you are my woman, my wife, and she will be happy."

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@natsxwife @franfineashell @dvrkhcld @reginassweetheart @marvelogic @autorasexy

[alyssaforevermore]

Unearthed ↦ Daryl Dixon season one, part three

Synopsis: Based on the events of The Walking Dead television series, Y/N Grimes, younger sister of Rick Grimes, attempts to survive in a world now inhabited by walkers. Family has always meant everything to her, but in this new world, can she keep her family safe and together?

Show: The Walking Dead (S1-S11)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Warnings: coarse language, violence, character deaths, drug and alcohol references, series spoilers and general The Walking Dead content warnings!

Tags: @1ivinqdeadqir1 @callmeyn @thegeorgiahuntsman @mellxander1993 @bigbaldheadname @cjmonsterwolf @abbi23323 @actuallyklee @lanxsee @livingdeadblondequeen @medeima @spectacular-skywalker (last two pls reach out to me if your names are incorrect so we can fix it)

Masterlist

You sat by Dale’s RV, silently stewing in your anger. No matter how much thought you gave it, you couldn’t think of a way to convince Rick to stay back at camp. Ultimately, you know it was fruitless. If Lori couldn’t convince him, you certainly couldn’t.

Rick exited the tent, now wearing his old Sheriff's uniform. As if on cue, Shane and Yourself matched over to him.

“So that’s it, huh?” Shane asked. “You’re just gonna walk off? To hell with everyone else?”

“I’m not saying to hell with anybody.” Rick sighed. “Not you, Shane. Least of all Lori, Carl and Y/N.”

Shane pointed to where Lori sat. “Tell her that.”

Rick turned around, tilting his head. “She knows.” He responded, turning back around and continuing towards the cars.

“Well, we don’t.” You argued. “Can you just explain it to us?”

“Why would you risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?” Shane questioned.

“Hey,” Daryl called out. “Choose your words more carefully.”

“No, I did. Douchebag is what I meant.”

“Shane-”

“Merle Dixon—” Shane continued. “The guy wouldn’t give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst.”

“What he would or wouldn’t do doesn’t interest me. I can’t let a man die of thirst—me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal in a trap. That’s no way for anything to die, let alone a human being.”

Lori joined the conversation, her hands folded across her chest. “So you and Daryl, that’s your big plan?”

Rick turned, looking at Glenn. “Oh, come on.” The man responded.

“You know the way.” Rick pleaded. “You’ve been there before. In and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It’s not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I’d feel a lot better with you there. I know she would too.” His eyes landed on Lori.

Glenn eyed the woman for a moment, contemplating if he really even had a choice at this point.

“That’s just great,” Shane responded. “Now you’re gonna risk three men, huh?”

T-Dog raised his hand. “Four.”

You took a deep breath, raising your hand as well. “Make that five.”

Rick turned to you, his eyes narrowed. “I’d much rather you stay here.”

“If you think for a second that I’m letting you run off to the dead city without me, after we just got you back, then you don’t know me as well as I thought.”

Rick eyed you for a moment, before finally letting out a sigh and nodding. He knew you were too stubborn to argue with; something that seemed to run in the family.

“My day just gets better and better, don’t it?” Daryl huffed.

“Do you see anyone else stepping up?” T-Dog asked.

“Why you?”

“You wouldn’t even begin to understand. You don’t speak my language.”

Dale let out a heavy sigh. “That’s five then.”

“It’s not just five. You’re putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick.” Shane responded. “Come on, you saw that walker. It was here. It was in camp. They’re moving out of the cities and if they come back, we need every able body we got.”

“Sounds to me like what you really need are more guns.”

Glenn smiled. “Right, the guns.”

“What guns?” You asked.

“Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left.” Rick explained. “I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It’s just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up.”

“If we don’t do this, then we’re just sitting ducks.” You pointed out. “I needs to be done, whether we like it or not.”

“How much ammo is in that bag?” Shane asked.

“Seven hundred rounds, assorted.”

“You went through Hell to find us.” Lori spoke. “You just got here and you’re gonna turn around and leave?”

Carl stepped forward, looking up at Rick. “Dad, I don’t want you to go.”

“To Hell with the guns, Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He’s not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in.” Lori stepped closer to her husband. “Tell me. Make me understand.”

“I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy.” Rick sighed. “Lori, if they hadn’t taken me in, I’d have died. It’s because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they’d follow me to Atlanta. They’ll walk into the same trap I did if I don’t warn him.”

“What’s stopping you?” You asked.

“The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. He’s got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer.”

“Our walkie-talkies?” Shane inquired.

Rick nodded. 

“So use the C.B., what’s wrong with that?” Andrea joined the conversation.

Shane rubbed his head. “The C.B.’s fine. It’s the walkies that suck to crap. Date back to the seventies, don’t match any other bandwidth, not even the scanners in our cars.”

Rick nodded. “I need that bag.”

…

As the crew began loading the box van for the trip, you approached Lori who stared longingly at your brother.

“Are you really okay with this?” You asked quietly.

“If I’m being honest, not really.” Lori looked at you for a moment, before looking back at her husband. “The only solace I have is knowing you’ll be there to watch over him; to bring him back here.”

You smiled to yourself, appreciating Lori’s faith in you. The two of you had your issues in the past, not always seeing eye to eye, but the last few months had brought you together. If it wasn’t for her and Carl, you really doubted if you’d still be alive. If you’d have wanted to be.

Daryl began honking the horn of the van, Glenn sitting in the seat next to him. You headed on over, standing beside Rick and Shane.

“Last time we were on the gun range, I’m sure I wound up with a few loose rounds of yours.” Shane spoke, rummaging through his bag.

Rick smiled. “You and that bag—like the bottom of an old lady’s purse.”

Shane let out a sigh. “I hate that you’re doing this, man. I think that it’s foolish and reckless but if you’re gonna go, you’re taking bullets.”

“I’m not sure I’d want to fire a shot in the city. Not after what happened last time.”

“That’s up to you.” He spoke, finally pulling out some bullets from his bag. “Well…five people, five rounds. What are the odds, huh?”

You felt a chill run down your spine.

“Let’s just hope five is my lucky number.” Rick responded, taking the bullets and loading them into his gun. “Thank you.”

Shane nodded.

You looked back at Lori, giving her a reassuring nod. This was going to be the riskiest thing you’d done so far, and you just hoped it would be worth it.

…

The five of you had arrived just outside the city, parking the van near some railroad tracks before going on foot. When you finally arrived at the building Merle had been left at, Daryl wasted no time shoving T-Dog along to show him the way up to the roof. You followed close behind, barely having a moment to think about if the dead had seen you.

At the top of the stairs, T-Dog cut the chain to the door. Daryl pushed past him, throwing the door open and running onto the roof.

“Merle! Merle!” Daryl called out, looking around.

You followed the men who came to an abrupt stop.

“Oh my god.” You mumbled, covering your mouth with your hand.

Daryl rushed over, finally seeing exactly what you all had. “No!”

He began pacing back and forth, tears welling in his eyes as he continued to scream out. Everyone remained silent, not knowing exactly what to say; if there was anything to say.

Your eyes lingered on the ground, Merle’s severed hand sitting next to a hacksaw. Semi-dried blood was pooled around it, droplets leading away from the scene. Yet, there was no sign of Merle at all.

That crazy son of a bitch.

----

AN: Thank you for reading this chapter!! I really hope you all enjoyed it. This one was a bit shorter as I wanted to line up the chapters and episodes. Next one should cover all of episode four. Also, a big thank you for all of the love I've gotten on this series so far; it's really inspired me to keep going! If you'd like to request to be tagged in future chapters, you can do so here. Please be sure to like and reblog <3

[lilgoblinbitch]

when i read in the opening that danai wrote the episode i was shook, but i wasn’t expecting it to be THIS good! 🫠

like, the way she managed to capture michonne, to not only write the inner conflict she is going through, but to also to display it so well - oh my god. QUEEN the talent she has >>

the episode was peak, some call it boring but this is what i was looking for, rick and michonne having to find themselves again, to deal with their trauma and to reunite - we finally got into those deep feelings.

i also loved rick in that episode so, so much, his writing was perfect, their dynamic was just so good i can’t okay? 🥲

danai is undoubtedly a genuis when it comes to playwright, acting, and developing her own character. this woman is my favorite. favorite everything idc you name it. this episode was immaculate, words cannot simply describe how this episode made me feel. i mean the way she was able to perfectly capture michonne’s motherly-wife FEMALE RAGE while also making it 100% reasonable and 100% relatable to the audience. i felt every single one of her emotions; it was really an amazing experience. she captured the ‘fed-up middle-aged mother of two kids with a mentally lost military husband’ beautifully. danai straight up deserves an award. so the fuck does andrew lincoln. this show and the walking dead in general was carried by both michonne and rick in my opinion. the show was certainly not the same after they left. now that we have andy and danai together on this show, in which they are BOTH executive producers…. this is them spoiling us. i am so grateful for these two amazing himan beings.

also, i can’t believe people called this episode boring??? um…your head must have SEVERAL. screws loose. i don’t have time for a richonne hater’s bullshit. sit tf down and shut your damn mouth. go watch dead city if you think this is boring LMAO GOODBYE. because this episode ALONE captured everything that rick and michonne are — everything they went through, their chemistry, their relationship— the angst and the romance drips out from the screen and onto each of us viewers. i became so engrossed in this series because of the way it is written.

i digress. danai and andy are truly remarkable. this episode was my absolute favorite out of the series so far. i fully agree with you. thank you for sending me this because it gave me a reason to rant and spill my feelings and thoughts about my all time favorite tv couple (even though i do this every single day because my life revolves around them I CANT HELP IT).

[smutinlove]

You were my light

Carl Grimes x Reader

Warnings: A little angsty, mentions of death, slight torture (not really), mentions of blood, slight small description of blood, carl grimes being a jackass (sorry baes), a little violence, gun mentions, use of knife (chill y'all), mentions of character death, ugh sad sad sad, depressing shit ig, kidnapping (it's.... hot... if carl does it), sadness (????) 🤨

☽ Author's note☾ I'm writing this for fun cause I'm bored. Oh, my God! How shocking! I know. Right?? Tell me how it is. PLEASE. Anyway. Show some love by reblogging and liking it. <3 This is made by me just like all my other fics are. DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

Thank you to everyone who reads this!

[I think I might even make this into a small little series.]

Part 2 is here

Part 3 is here

Part 4 is here

Part 5 is here

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

Summary - The daughter of the now dead Negan Smith is walking in the woods. She thought she was alone. But she wasn't.

❝ There's things I wanna say to you But I'll just let you live Like if you hold me without hurting me You'll be the first who ever did ❞

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

Lucille Smith used to say, "You can find light in the darkest places." It wasn't a lie, it was a bit complicated for you, Y/N Smith, to understand. "Mom, what does that even mean?" You asked.

"Oh, sweetheart, why don't you go upstairs and find that book you like? We could read it together." Lucille, your mother, suggested.

"Okay," You gave a sweet smile before rushing upstairs.

There was a box full of books. After almost an hour of searching, you finally found it.

You ran downstairs, "Mom, I found it—"

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

You walked through the woods, in desperate need of some fresh air. After Rick killed Negan, your father, you were so tired of everything. Hell, you almost thought of 'offing yourself.'

Negan, no matter how cruel he could be, he was still your father, you still cried almost every time you thought about him. It had been six years since your father died. Shit...

You were alone like always. It was peaceful but it could be sad sometimes.

As you were walking through the woods, you heard a twig snap.

You took out your gun and pointed it in every possible direction. It was a walker. Instead of shooting, you unsheathed your knife and jammed it into the skull of a walker. You took the knife out, and a bit of Walker blood got on your white t-shirt, but, hey, who would care anyway?

"Nice, what are you? A fucking dumbass? Wandering by yourself? All happy and shit." A voice said from behind you. "What?" You raised your gun and turned around. "Who the hell—"

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

And now you found yourself with a bag over your head. You couldn't breathe, it felt like the world had ended. Maybe, you were in hell. You killed so many innocent people. Maybe, it was them who took you away. Maybe they were gonna torture you and then slowly kill you.

The bag over your head was taken off. Your hands were tied behind your back. A familiar-looking boy was standing in front of you.

The boy was wearing a cowboy hat, which was the first thing you noticed when you first saw him in the lineup.

He had one eye, which you already knew. But it was unknown to you how he lost it. "You're pretty. What's your name?" He asked.

But you remained silent. This boy was familiar. He...

He was Rick Grimes' son. Carl Grimes.

Carl smiled. "Not a talker, 'ey?" He chuckled. "That's fine until I beat it outta you." He laughed.

To him, you looked familiar. But he couldn't figure out who you were exactly.

Carl laughed, "God, you are so cute, ain't ya?" He placed a hand on your cheek. "Look at me, sweetheart. Oh, you are a pretty little thing, aren't ya?"

You looked away. You didn't know this man well. Why? Why would he talk to you like you were his lover or whatever?

"Talk." He demanded. You wouldn't budge.

He slapped you, "Talk, now." He demanded.

Carl turned around, "Daryl will be rougher. And right now, I'm just being nice. Very nice. Now, what's your name, sweetheart?" He asked once again.

"Y/N," you reluctantly answered. Then, it hit him. He figured out who you were and now had an angry expression on his face. Why did your dad have to kill so many people, especially those two men?

"Cute. Why were you out there?" He asked. "Stop," you muttered. "Why should I stop, hm? Scared, sweetie?" He taunted. You looked up at him and tilted your head, "No. But you should be. 'Cause after I get free, I will kill you, you motherless son of a bitch!" He chuckled and grabbed you by your shirt. "Oh, sweet. A girl is threatening me." His laugh sent shivers down your spine. It was as if he didn't even care about your threats or how annoying and uncooperative you had been. It was as if he was used to this. "You know what?" "What?" "I'll be back, and you better start talking. Otherwise, you'll never see the sun ever again. But," of course, there was a 'but.' "Maybe, you'll join your daddy in hell, Y/N Smith." He smirked and left. It felt horrible. God, it was one of the most hurtful things he had said. And now, you promised yourself that you would kill Carl Grimes. No matter what, you will kill him.

...

Part 2?

[shinonome-akito-vbs]

hey there you’re getting ethan nakamura lore from percy jackson and the olympians hot book series written by rick riordan because i need to cope and i have autism and my hyperfixations are so CR詠ZY that once i’m obsessed over something i will be obsessed until i turn thirtyseven years old and also because i quite like you and ethan nakamura and i would very much like it if my favorite pjsk character knew about my favorite percy jackson character

so where do i start. okay. let’s start on ethan nakamura right guys? yeah. so i have been hyperfixating on this stupid guy for years. it started when i was like nine or ten. when i read the first book he appeared in (the battle of the labyrinth fyi.) i was like “wow, what a silly dude. i quite like him.” boy oh boy was that just the beginning. hot diggity dog have i become an ethan nakamura superfan. keep in mind this boy had like atleast thirteen mentions in the series, tops. i was living off CRUMBS.

ethan first came to camp half-blood (the place where demigods [half god half human] go to train) with a satyr, those ugly half goat half human things. except grover. he’s not ugly. he was left unclaimed, meaning his godly parent, nemesis (goddess of retribution), did not claim him as her son. ethan felt like he was being ignored, and felt irritated because of this. this was what fueled him to join the titan army, aka kronos’ army (kronos is the evil titan dude who wants to kill the greek gods.) one day, ethan met his mother nemesis, who told him that in exchange for his left eye, he would some day balance the world’s power. ethan willingly gave her his left eye and covered it up with a black eyepatch.

!!!spoilers after this part perchance….!!!

ethan first appears in the battle of the labyrinth, the fourth book. percy (main character obviously), annabeth (percy’s stupid girlfriend i love her), grover, and tyson all travelled to the labyrinth (the labyrinth is a maze if you can remember) with a mortal girl named rachel elizabeth dare who could see through the mist (a spell thing that makes it so that humans are unable to see what demigods can see; monsters, swords, etc.) rachel accidentally leads the four into antaeus’ arena, where percy was forced to fight a dracaena. after defeating it, he then moved on to fight ethan nakamura. this is when he is first introduced. who cheered. i did. i cheered. ethan, despite lacking a left eye, had good swordsmanship and was able to attack well. however, his heavy greek armor tired him out quickly, and percy ended up defeating him. though, he spares his life. okay blah blah blah percy fights antaeus then percy, rachel, annabeth, grover, tyson, and ethan run away from the arena. ethan refuses their help like the boyboss he is and returns to the arena, where the titan army was. in a later chapter, ethan is seen resurrecting the titan lord, kronos. percy thinks of ethan as a traitor because of this. during the fifth and final book, the last olympian, ethan on the princess andromeda, a ship where the titan army stays. percy, accompanied by charles beckendorf (a hephaestus kid [greek god of fire and inventing.] y’know rui kamishiro would totally be a hephaestus son), board the ship and set off bombs in an attempt to temporarily set back the army. they both get captured, but charles sacrifices himself by detonating the bombs whilst percy jumps off board. i miss charles, but that’s another lore dump for another day. did you know…. ethan nakamura survives the explosion…. no? yeah, he did!!!!!!!!! who cheered!!! i did!!! ethan is then seen again when manhattan (new york, olympus is located in the empire state building in the book) is under attack by kronos’ army and the demigods are left to defend the camp. at the time, percy had bathed in the river styx, the same river that achilles bathed in to gain his strength, but percy’s weak spot was his lower back. ethan had somehow known percy’s weak spot and attempted to stab him there, but PERCY’S STUPID GIRLFRIEND ANNABETH decided to block it and take the strike herself. later on, when kronos was destroying the olympian throne room, percy begged ethan to change ways and proved that kronos was evil. in a moment of reflection, ethan rebelled against kronos and attempted to stab him with his blade. however, the knife shatters against kronos and a piece of the blade cuts through ethan’s stomach, making him the last person kronos killed. before his death, he told percy that the minor gods such as his mother nemesis needed to be respected and needed a throne as well, because they were thought of lowly. percy made a shrine for ethan after the battle and chose to remember him by his good deeds instead of his bad ones.

not spoilers! ethan is of half-greek and half-japanese descent, being the son of nemesis and another unspoken father figure who was never mentioned in the books. he is impulsive and very brave, and according to percy, was a very skilled fighter. he is driven towards his goals and determined to achieve them, despite the consequences such as betrayal. since his mother was quite literally the goddess of retribution, he always had a strong sense of balancing things, and eventually repaid the favor of percy saving him. like most demigods, he was born with adhd, which gave him the ability to last long in battle, and dyslexia, which allows him to read ancient greek rather than regular english.

ethan nakamura is my favorite character in the entire percy jackson series. thalia might be a close favorite BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT, ETHAN NAKAMURA IS THE MAIN FOCUS HERE!!! okay. so i’ve seen a lot of people legitimately hate or dislike ethan nakamura, which really makes me mad. like what did this boy do to you. what could this silly guy have possibly done to make you dislike him. not every titan army member is bad! except luke, i hate luke. back to our lord and savior ethan nakamura! he actually wasn’t that bad, but a lot of you HATERS are not ready for this conversation… he had a reason to join the titan army. he was ignored by his godly parent for, like, EVER. most demigods would’ve been claimed by now. this man is probably in the underworld  watching the kids in the other cabins sleep on beds while he had to sleep on the wooden floor of the packed hermes cabin. and that cabin probably smelled like body odor or something. okay, anyways. nemesis, his mom, ignored him for ages until she randomly pulls up, saying he’ll balance the worlds power. and since the gods are like the most powerful and he saw them AS powerful, he thought that maybe y’know…. getting rid of the gods would work. maybe that would balance the worlds power and make his mom finally give him some recognition. SEE HERE. CHARACTER DETAILS!! HE DID IT FOR RETRIBUTION!!! HE DID IT IN THE NAME OF HIS MOM!!! HE WANTED RECOGNITION!!! i cannot stress this enough. ethan wanted to be acknowledged by his mom. that was all he wanted. i don’t even KNOW if he got that in the end. he also had his character development. he tried to stab kronos, but that stupid blade shattered and straight up stabs him in the stomach. he dies!!! he sacrifices himself. and guess what!!!!! nemesis!!! is!!! associated!!! with!!! SACRIFICE!!! he died in his mom’s name! wowza!!!!!! no idea if his mom even cared, but wow i’d be really proud of my son if he died trying to save the world y’know… and in MY name too. if that’s not enough to satisfy nemesis, then i don’t know what is. then again, she’s a greek god. greek gods treat their children like crap. so i can’t really expect anything from them, much less nemesis. okay hi thank you for coming to be ted talk all my opps hate ethan nakamura

guess my favorite percy jackson character mode: impossible!!!

thats

a lot

of text

I did actually read the lightning thief several years ago

[deliciousangelfestival]

Kill My Ex (?) Chapter 2 - dark!Lloyd Hansen Series

Character: dark!Lloyd Hansen x Ex-girlfriend , Rick Flag x Fem!Reader (slightly)

Warning: Manipulation, betrayal, delusional character.

Summary: Lloyd finally has her back in his arms. He thinks he could bring back the old Y/N who loved him. But what about Y/N?

Reblog and feedback are really appreciated. It will make me more motivated and got more people to read the story. Thank you so much 💓 💗 💓 Have a great day and enjoy the story.

Let me know if you want to join the tag list 😊

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,-

Life is difficult sometimes, and it’s not easy to wake up every day and go through what you have to face. But the beauty in difficult times is we can share it with the people who care. 

For you being able to meet others like friends and family is a privilege. 

Because since the day your ex Lloyd Hansen caught you, he never left you alone. You’ve never seen him this possessive when you left him three years ago. His demeanor changed because he almost lost everything he had built to catch this one guy.

He makes sure everything is going along with his plan. 

He starts to rebuild and fix his name in the security business. Like today, you will accompany Lloyd to a charity party where he meets potential clients.

You looked at yourself through the mirror. You wear an expensive dress from Valentino and an expensive necklace hanging on your neck. Lloyd gave you an expensive gift to spoil you. But you don’t feel anything because he held your fiance hostage.

Suddenly the bathroom door got knocked, and a voice could be heard from outside. "Y/N hurry up, we need to go."

You sighed heavily and opened the door. "I’m ready." 

When he saw you walking out of the dressing room, Lloyd felt accomplished seeing you looking beautiful with the dress and accessories. 

"Perfect. I knew sapphire would be perfect with you." He kisses your cheeks while you hold your urge not to vomit.

He linked your arm with his "Let's go."

At the party. 

When rich people gathered, some people could feel intimidated. You feel it too, but not with Lloyd. This kind of event is his playground. 

He is always confident and charismatic, and the guest also got mesmerized by him. The other reason is that his uncle Reynold Hansen, the Vice President, held the event. 

You knew Reynold Hansen as a terrible person. His history in the military is also bad. There's evidence that could prove that, but then 'poof' it's gone. 

It must be Lloyd who made it possible.  

Hansen men are scary. They are persistent; they will do anything to get what they want, no matter their method. 

Reynold saw you sitting at the table alone, he talked to Lloyd. "I told you to get rid everything related to the mission. Instead you keep her and a patient."

Lloyd smirked. "Be grateful that I made a path to make you win, uncle." 

He won't let anyone talk shit about you, he whispered near Reynold's ear. “If back then you and the President not so fucked up in the head, it won’t be like this.”

Reynold scoffed. “Look at yourself, Lloyd, we’re the same. Both of us have fucked up minds. You imprisoned the woman you love.”

What Reynold said kicked Lloyd in the nuts because what he said it’s true. 

Lloyd believed that if you stayed beside him, he could make the old you return.

Perhaps because he already faced death before, it was a miracle he could wake up. The moment he wakes up from his deathbed, all he can't think about is you. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you. 

The story between you and Lloyd starts from the day he entered Harvard. You’re quiet and intelligent in class but always follow him around. Everyone is sure you will enter a famous fund management company after graduation. 

But instead, you join the CIA. Everyone said you are crazy, but Lloyd likes it because he likes being a priority. 

When he got kicked out from the CIA, you also joined him. With your brain, both of you build Hansen Security together. 

No matter what method he used to capture the target, you never complained like Susan. 

He knew you had feelings towards him, but he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, he played with it. As long you stay with him.

He admit that it was a stupid move and that his biggest regret. Because you suddenly quit being his business partner and left without saying goodbye. 

When he found out you joined the task force, he wondered why, but the reason was still unanswered.

Then he felt like being shot when he saw you with Rick Flag. It made him mad. 

That man doesn't deserve you. It was perfect timing when Reynold asked him to eliminate Amanda Waller's task force. 

Kill two birds with one stone. 

Now he has you in his arms; he won't let this chance turn to dust. 

He won't betray your trust anymore. He knew you hated him, but he would never let you go. 

And he admires your will to survive even know you hate every time he touches and kisses your cheeks. He never sees your disgust and anger through your expression. 

Reynold knew his nephew was lunatic and sadistic, but he needed Lloyd to get where he stood. He sips the champagne. "But still, I don't like her."

"You don't have to."

Sometimes Lloyd hates this trait from family. If a man and woman from Hansen like someone, they will only love that one person for the rest of their life. 

“My wife wants to talk to her. She wonder what kind of woman could tolerate you.”

Lloyd chuckled. “She probably like Y/N.”

While both men were talking, an older woman walked towards you. The way she walks shows how elegant she is, and every guest nods their head to show their respect.

Her name is Caroline Hansen. She came from a well-known family who was always famous for philanthropy and charity. 

She saw you sitting alone and sat in the empty chair beside you. Her strong perfume doesn’t make you nauseous but calms you. “Mrs. Caroline.”

“Y/N, we finally meet.” She puts her hand on your shoulder, and then her eyes move to your stomach, which you’ve been stroking the whole time. She couldn’t help to ask, “How long have you been pregnant?”

You gulped. “Three months.”

Caroline put her hands on her mouth like she was excited. “Congratulations, my dear. But how are you feelings?”

“I’m fine.”

She asked again, “How are you feeling?”

Her question made you breathe and sigh heavily; you lowered your head to ensure Lloyd couldn’t read your lips. “I’m this close to lose my mind.”

Caroline wanted to say something to you, but she saw her husband and Lloyd near the table; she gripped your hand and whispered, "Remember the goal Y/N. I will contact you."

After she said that, she slowly stood up and approached Reynold, and both greeted the other guest. While Lloyd sits beside you, he leans closer. “Is she nice to you?”

You smiled at him and tapped his right thigh. “Yes, she’s really lovely.” The only person in this room who cares about you.

At Lloyd's residence.

Your body rests on a shared bed with Lloyd while he massages your foot. After the party, he noticed how you walk is different, so he did this. 

"Carol wants to meet you. Do you want to?"

You lowered your book and looked at him. "Hmm, sure." 

After being with him for months, you knew how to deal with him. Always acknowledge and look him in the eye whenever you talk to him. He never touched her sexually, but you never know how long he kept this act. 

Every night he always got a nightmare. Not being a winner affects him badly. He will calm down as long as you rub his back where he got shot and massage his left palm, which lost a few fingers. 

Seeing him lower his guard made you think of a hundred ways to kill him. 

But you won't do it because the time is not right.

You have waited for this moment for 25 years.

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@bagoffeelings

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@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

@nicestgirlonline

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Thank you for reading !!!

[itsscatballou]

The End Will Justify It All - Chapter 5

A Negan Series

Chapter 4 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 1

Warnings: adult themes, adult language, rough/slightly violent smut (18+ only)

A/n - my husband got a new video game so my Friday night was wide open to work on this. It's my favorite in the series so far, and I apologize for how long it is. Feedback is welcome! And a quick inspo credit to @green-eyedladywrites - she reblogged this photo of a statue in a sex museum in Korea several weeks ago, which stuck in my brain and brought about this sex scene. I hope you all enjoy! (ps - I was having major keyboard glitches so if there are bad typos I'm sorry!)

Being part of a Savior crew seemed to come naturally to her. It wasn’t a surprise; she’d been part of groups like these before. She’d learned how to work them to her advantage many times over. Simon started her as a grunt, sending her on the errands and tasks no one else really cared to do, but she didn’t mind. Every task gave her more information about the place, another advantage in her planning.

One of the tasks she was assigned was to check on Dwight’s guard team. Dwight and a couple of his guys took shifts guarding Daryl’s cell door or taking him out for his work with the walkers at the gate. She would check in with them a few times a day, bring them meals when they were on duty, and occasionally kept them company for a while. She cherished this task, the chance to be so close to Daryl. She had to force herself not to pay him any attention, but she stole as many glances as she could when his guards weren’t looking.

All the guys in the crew took to her quickly. They began including her in jokes, games, often inviting her for drinks after their shifts.  Simon especially seemed to enjoy her company. They soon had a rapport full of banter and laughs. It didn’t take long for her to move out of grunt work, although she suspected being a wife helped her rise in rank, too. No one wanted to be the one sending Negan’s wife on dumb errands and risk his anger. As her status on the crew rose, Simon began asking her advice. Much like Negan with Rick’s group, he was looking for the best ways to exploit the weaknesses of  leaders of the communities he collected from. It was unsettling to her how good she was at it. She had always been good at reading people. She’d used that in the past to survive, but this was different. This was no longer survival, this was… dominance. She couldn’t deny there was a part of her that found naming a stranger’s weakness and using it to get what the Saviors wanted somewhat thrilling. The more Simon asked that of her, the better she got at it. It became a point of pride for her amongst the crew. After a few successful runs, Simon started asking her to stay behind. They would spend hours debriefing or discussing the next run, sometimes over drinks.

It was during one of these after collection debriefs with Simon that she noticed a shift in him. She was sitting on the edge of the back of a refrigerated truck where Simon was leaning against it right beside her. They were laughing about one guy that wet his pants when she had gotten in his face, whatever threat she made hitting the nail on the head.

Suddenly Simon wasn’t laughing, he was staring at her. An intense look in his eye, like he’d just seen her for the first time. She squirmed shyly and nudged his arm gently with her shoulder.

“We make a good team, huh?” she grinned at him.

“We do… but I think it’s more you than me.” He replied, nudging her back.

She heard boots crunch in the gravel nearby. She put a hand on Simon’s arm and leaned a little closer as she said in a low voice, “I’m glad Negan put me on your crew.”

A Savior appeared from around the corner of the truck and both she and Simon quickly separated, attempting to look as casual as possible. The Savior stared at them for a moment, seeming to debate saying something. Finally, he informed them, “Negan called a gathering in the warehouse. He wants everyone there, you especially,” he looked at her. “You should find the other wives for this.”

She did as she was told, finding where the wives were standing, and making her way to stand beside Sherry and Amber. Amber looked pale and gaunt.  Y/n raised an eyebrow at Sherry to ask what was up with Amber. Sherry jerked her chin to show her. Following the direction Sherry motioned, she saw a handsome guy strapped to a chair, in front of a blazing fire.

Oh no. Mark. Amber’s lover. They’d been stupid – they’d been caught. She’d tried to warn Amber it was a bad idea – Negan only had one rule for the wives: do not cheat on him. She was honestly amazed only Mark sat before the fire now. Someone must have done some convincing to get him to let Amber off… She looked around, seeing Dwight at the fire with the poker – her blood boiled. She already despised him, but the more she learned of him from Sherry, and the more she saw how he treated Daryl, her dislike had transitioned to blind hate. Her eyes moved from Dwight to the person beside him and she nearly gasped when her eyes met Daryl’s. They locked eyes and she instinctively began to move toward him.

She was stopped short as Negan entered then, walking forward to talk to the crowd. She didn’t hear a word he said, though, as she saw who came in behind him. The Sherriff’s hat gave him away first, and her heart stopped. Why was Carl here? When had he gotten here? Had Negan taken him?

Her eyes shot to Daryl, and she found him still looking at her. What the fuck? She mouthed at him. He subtly shook his head, and she turned her attention back to Carl, willing him to look at her. His face changed at something Negan was doing, she felt Sherry move to Amber and saw her embrace her, so she turned her attention back to the spectacle. Dwight was pulling the hot iron from the fire and Negan was gloving his hands to take it.

She couldn’t let this happen. Mark and Amber had been dumb, but they didn’t deserve this. Amber was not the strongest, she wouldn’t handle this well at all. And Carl… Carl didn’t need to see this. How could she stop it?

She didn’t know what drove her to do it, barely registered her own voice as she called to Negan, “wait!” He put his outstretched hand down and looked at her, fury building behind his eyes at the public challenge. If she shut up and sank back now, he’d probably let this go. That would be the smart thing to do. She felt all eyes on her as her body did the exact opposite and she found herself standing in between Mark and Negan. Idiot. What are you doing?

“I’ll take it. Burn me instead.” She heard some gasps and murmurs from the crowd. She refused to look at Daryl, who was no doubt readying to fight off every Savior in this building for her.

Negan tilted his head as he asked, “Now why would you do that? Why would I do that?”

“Mark is an incredible shot, way better than I’ll ever be, and very valuable to his crew. If you burn him, he’ll be down healing for weeks, and you’ll be lucky if his aim is ever the same going that close to his eye” she pointed at Dwight’s scarred eyed. “I’m barely more than a grunt. If I’m down a few weeks, the worst that happens is Fat Joey doesn’t get his sandwich delivered and he has to go get it himself.” Some guys chuckled behind her.

She could feel the crowd lean in, could feel their pity, and their gratitude – Mark was beloved by a lot of these people. He was a good guy, that’s why Amber liked him so much. And she’d made good points – his crew needed him. They were already short-handed with the redistribution of men following Rick’s massacre at the satellite station. Losing another one from their barebones crew would hurt. They would not be happy about it.

“That’s so very noble of you, sweetheart,” Negan cooed at her. “But what lesson would that teach Mark? How is he going to learn the importance of following the rules if someone else can just step in and take his consequences?’

After a long pause, Negan reached again for the hot iron and added, “and your face is plenty hot enough as it is.”

Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the crowd as Negan advanced toward Mark. She stumbled back with them, and as the screaming started, she turned and left. She could feel the rage of the crowd behind her as she exited. She walked until she reached Negan’s apartment and sat down against the wall outside his door to wait.

She didn’t have to wait long before Negan and Carl approached. She stood as they neared Negan’s door and gave Carl a hard look.

“Carl,” Negan drawled, “I don’t believe you have met my new wife!” Carl scowled at her at the realization.

“Negan, could I speak to you?” she asked him, glancing at Carl pointedly, “privately?”

“As much as I would love a little romp in the sack with you, I am a little busy right now.”

“Negan.”

He moved closer to her, a cat on the prowl. “I said not right now.” He leaned in close enough to whisper in her ear. “I’ll find you later. I have some things to discuss with you too.” His breath on her neck tickled, causing goosebumps to rise. He gently kissed the area, and she saw Carl tense and clench his fist. Negan left her in the hall, leading Carl into his room.

Frustrated, and still confused about Carl being here, she stomped back to her room to wait.

-----

Her time with Negan since the night he held her while she cried in her room had been, well, confusing. He called her to dinner again the following night and they played their question game again, both seeming to ask more interesting questions about the other. She’d learned a lot about him that night, his softer side. It surprised her. She’d also been given a gift, a “reward” he’d called it for such good information about Rick.

“Anything thing you want, ask. A new, badass gun? A bottle of the whiskey we took from Hilltop? Name it. I am in a giving mood, and you earned a good gift,” he’d told her, flirtatiously but genuine enough.

“Do I have to name it right now, or can I think on it a bit?” she’d asked.

“My generosity does have limitations, but you can take the rest of dinner to think on it.”

After dinner, and a few shots later for each of them, she’d chosen what she would ask for.

“I know what I’d like my reward to be,” she declared after he downed his 4th shot, dodging a question about his love life before the old world fell. He smiled at her and nodded in invitation to ask.

“I would like…” she said, drawing it out to tease him a little. The three shots of Whiskey she’d taken had her in a playful mood. He raised an eyebrow suggestively at her. “Oh, you wish,” she fired back. “No. Nothing like that. What I’d like is, well... 5 free questions. I let you know when one of my questions will be the free pass, and you have to answer, 100% truthfully, with no option to back out by taking a shot.”

She quickly saw the loophole in her request so she added, “and I can use them whenever I want, no time limits.” She replayed her words in her head, making sure they were airtight. She felt like she was dealing with a genie from a fairytale.

Negan studied her, a mix of pleasant surprise and something else behind his eyes. “I will give you 3.”

She grinned at him, about to agree when he added, “but I get 3 of the same.”

“Wha- how is that a gift if you get it too?” she whined back.

“Because the gift is from me, and those are my conditions. If you’d like to change your choice to that gun or something a little more… intimate, I will allow it.” He bit his lip, and something in her heated. Stupid whiskey.

She knew it wasn’t a good idea, it was risky to commit to that.  But the thought of him having to answer her with no possibility to back out was too tempting to pass up. She prayed the reward would be worth this risk.

“Deal.” This was the second deal she’d made with the devil in a week.  

The following nights were unpredictable. She wasn’t invited back for dinner for a few nights, and by the third, she felt unnerved by it. Not afraid, just... bored.  On those nights she’d make her way down and usually found Simon eating outside by a fire, where she’d sit and drink and talk with him until she felt tired enough or tipsy enough to go to bed.

The nights she did have dinner with Negan were the same: eat, questions, drink. Sometimes she’d ask to play a boardgame, and they’d continue their game of questions over Scrabble (which she always won and let him hear about it).

One night, after a brutal placement of the word “quiz,” she used her first free question.

“Negan,” she approached it gently. He looked up from his scrabble tiles with curiosity. She didn’t use his name often. “I’d like to use my first free question.”

He slowly grinned at her. “Alright,” he agreed, “let me finish my drink first. I’m sure I’ll need it.” And he downed the remainder of his whiskey in one go. “Okay, shoot.”

“We’ve had a lot of these dinners together,” she prefaced, “and at our first one, you said as a wife I would have to perform ‘wifely duties.’” She paused.

“There a question in there?” he teased her.

She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous to ask this. “Well, you haven’t, um… touched me. At all. You haven’t even asked to… so I guess my question is, why not?”

Negan chuckled. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s not your looks, if that’s your concern.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. He knew that wasn’t what she was asking.

“Fine. No, I haven’t tried or asked, but it isn’t because I don’t want to.”  He winked at her. “In fact, I want to so bad it drives me crazy when you leave here at night. None of my other wives leave here until I’m satisfied… but I knew from the night you came in here and told me to make Rick hold Lucille that you wouldn’t be like my other wives.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue.

“You’re different. I want it to be different with you. I told you before, I have enough obedient dogs. So as badly as I want it, I will not touch you until you want it too. And trust me, darlin’, you will want it,” he purred in that Negan arrogance.

She would never want it, she told herself. She told herself so many times she started dreaming it. But no matter how much she told herself she would never want it; it didn’t stop a part of her from heating every time she thought of those words.

She was invited back the next night, where instead of their typical drinking game of questions, Negan upped the ante with a rousing game of strip questions. If they didn’t answer a question, they had to remove an item of clothing.

She was thanking her lucky stars she’d come straight to dinner from a collection with her crew, so she had a lot more clothing on than she normally would at dinner.

With such high stakes, the questions got very personal. “Where is the craziest place you’ve ever fucked?” started it off, and it moved into first loves, worst heartbreaks, hardest kills, and eventually biggest fears.  They were both on the couch, him sitting a little too close to her, and both down to their underthings when he used his first free question.

“Free card question,” he stated, leaning a little closer to her. He kissed her bare shoulder, and it sent goosebumps down her arm. Tracing circles with his finger where his lips just were, he asked in a growly tone, “why did you really volunteer to come back with me that night in the woods?”

Uh oh. She sent a silent thank you up to whoever was listening for not being three shots deep into this game. She paused a minute, what could she tell him?

“What?” she flirted, buying some time to think, “you don’t think you impressed me enough for me to want to go with you?”

“No,” he replied, still tracing circles on her shoulder. “I knew when the words left your mouth it wasn’t true. I’ve been trying since then to figure out why you’re here. I thought maybe it was to spy, help Rick take us down from the inside. But you’ve proven to be working against him, and other communities, over and over since then.” She cringed inside at that. Had she gotten that bad? “Then I thought, maybe you were just biding your time to get close enough to kill me. And that could still be true, but the way your body is reacting to my every touch right now, I am doubting it. So, I’d like to know now, what was your reason?”

Think, y/n. Think. It had to be believable. She obviously couldn’t tell him the truth. She feigned a little nervousness, hoping it sold her story.

“I… well…I wanted to kill Dwight,” there was plenty of truth in that. “Honestly, I still wouldn’t mind doing it. I thought my best bet was to get inside here with him.”

He waited for her to continue. “He killed the girl I was seeing. The doctor in Alexandria. Shot her through the eye with Daryl’s crossbow.”

“Wow,” Negan replied. “You play for both teams? I did not see that coming!” He laughed. “I will remember that for our future. As for Dwight… well, I don’t hold a special place in my heart for him, but I’d like him to stay alive for the time being. If or when that changes, you will be the first to know.”

He seemed satisfied with her lie.

“I’m glad it wasn’t to kill me,” he purred, leaning into her neck, “I think you would have missed things you don’t want to miss…” his hand found her knee and began slowly trailing from up her thigh. His lips found skin again, this time on a tender part of her neck.

No, no, no, no. She thought, though her body was responding differently. She franticly searched for any sort of distraction to stop where this was headed. Her eyes scanned the room, anything to ask about, to suddenly find fascinating enough she needed to look at. Then she saw it, leaned against the wall under a window.

“I have a question now. A free one.”

“Mmhmm?” he moaned out, still kissing her neck in a way that was making her quiver.

“Lucille,” she said, putting a hand against his chest and pushing a bit. “Where did you get the name?”

He froze, his lips no longer on her skin. He didn’t seem to breathe for several long seconds. Then he was standing, putting on his pants, and walking toward the door.

“We’re done here,” he said firmly, holding the door open for her.

She stared in shock for a moment, and when it was clear he was not joking, she quickly grabbed her clothes and fled his room.

That was the last time she’d seen him, until now, with Carl in tow. It had been days, maybe a week. What she’d thought was an innocent question had really struck a nerve.

-----

Negan didn’t send for her until late in the evening. She’d had supper already, a bath, and was about to settle into bed with a book when the guard knocked on her door.  She didn’t bother dressing up, she decided her leggings and cropped sweatshirt would be just fine if he was pulling her out of bed. She had half a mind to tell him he could see her at a decent hour tomorrow, but she desperately wanted to know what was going on with Carl.

She didn’t knock when she got there, she just walked right in, to find him sitting on the couch with a drink in one hand, and the other hand dragging down his face in exhaustion.

“Long day?” she quipped, looking around for any sign of the Grimes boy.

“You could say that,” he replied, humorless.

She decided not to waste any time with flirting or working up to her questions.

“Where is Carl?” she demanded.

He stared at her, and she was not sure he was going to answer her at all when he finally said, “he’s back home with daddy and baby Grimes, safe and sound.”

Relief washed over her. “What was he doing here?”

Negan chuckled. “He was here to kill me. You weren’t lying when you said the kid was reckless. I like the little bastard.”

“He just showed up to kill you?” she asked, surprised but not shocked. It was a very Carl thing to do.

“He snuck in on a supply truck earlier today. Killed two of our guards before we got to him.”

She didn’t let her face show the pride she felt.  “And you just let him go?” she accused.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to question anything I do,” he replied angrily.

“What the hell does that mean?” she challenged. He’d shut her out and ignored her for a week now, she’d lost any desire to filter her annoyance with him.

“I think you know exactly what it means.”

She glared at him, at a loss. What was he accusing her of?

“Tell me,” he said, standing up and taking a few slow steps toward her. “How many people were you screwing in Alexandria?”

“What?” she asked, incredulous.

“Carl seemed real pissed when he learned you were my wife. I just wonder how many people in Alexandria you went through before coming here to expand your selection. Rick, obviously. Your little girlfriend, who else? The redhead? The mullet guy? Spencer? Yeah, I met that douche bag today. Is there anyone else I should know about? I hear you’ve gotten mighty friendly with Simon. Practically throwing himself yourself at him, touching all over him, going to him every night, not days after licking your lips and batting your lashes at me. Anyone here you got your eye on?”

She heard a slap, Negan’s face turned abruptly to the side, she felt a sting in her palm, and a redness began spreading across his cheek.

She’d slapped him. Shit, she’d slapped him.

She bit down the terror of the realization – she’d seen very bad things happen to people who’d done a lot less to him. She willed her face into a rebellious glare, daring him to retaliate, promising hell if he did.

Negan’s stare was just as hateful, never breaking eye contact as he rubbed his cheek and flexed his jaw. Suddenly he sprang toward her, his hand was on her throat, and he was shoving her backwards, she could barely keep upright they were moving so fast. Her back slammed against the concrete wall. Negan’s face was within an inch of hers, she could feel his warm breath on her mouth as he growled, “that. will. not. happen. again,” pausing on each word like a forceful bite. She was prying at his hand with both hands, trying to loosen his grip enough that she could take a breath, refusing to show him the panic rising in her.

He let his grip loosen a bit. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she breathed out as she gasped to fill her lungs again. He did not remove his hand from her throat or yield even a centimeter to her.  He continued to stare daggers into her eyes, but there was something other than anger behind them. What is that?

Desire, she realized. Animalistic desire.  It was then she noticed just how close their bodies were, his hips pinning hers in place against the wall, her feet barely touching the floor. She could feel his growing erection pressing into her. She felt a tingle in her core, her body betraying her. Her breath suddenly felt heavy, her chest heaving against his. An image of their naked chests pressed together flashed in her mind, it was as if she could already feel his bare skin. Did she really want this? From him? After all he’d done? She knew she shouldn’t, but with him pressed against her, hand still on her throat, and looking at her like that… she couldn’t deny the desire growing in her, verging dangerously close to need.

He must have read that on her face, because suddenly Negan’s mouth was on hers, crushing her lips with his, his scruff scraping her chin and cupids bow as he sucked, unrelenting. His tongue began forcefully pushing against her lips, like a battering ram, demanding entrance. She conceded. He tasted her mouth like he was eating for the first time in a week - hungrily, greedily, but savoring the taste of each section of her mouth he explored. Then she was kissing him back, just as greedily – no, angrily. It became not a dance of lovers, but a battle of opponents. His tongue pushed, hers pushed back in turn. Her lips sucked, he fought for dominance with his. She bit – not gently- down on his bottom lip and slowly dragged against his lip until it was free. He pulled away from her face at that and his eyes met hers, amusement dancing in them now. He’d met his match. He grinned at the realization.

Their noisy, shallow breaths filled the otherwise silent room, awakening her from the trance his tongue had put her in. She fought to stay above the fog, forcing herself to remember the things he’d done, to remember Daryl, but the memories would not come. All there was in this moment was him - his body, and hers. His dark eyes held her stare a moment longer, and then they were closed, and his lips were crushing hers again. His hands began lifting her sweatshirt from around her waist, his fingers trailing up her stomach. He explored with gentle fingertips, caressing up and down her sides, his knuckles grazing across her lower abdomen, leaving no patch of skin untouched, a trail of goosebumps in their wake. As his hands creeped up her torso, his touch became fiercer. He reached her breasts, found them bare under her shirt, and groaned into her mouth as each hand took a full palm of breast and began massaging. He was not gentle, but she did not pull away. He backed away from her only enough to allow room to remove her shirt and expose her fully. His lips were back on hers in an instant, no less demanding than before. They moved to her neck, and she felt one of her traitorous hands move to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his short hair. She hadn’t planned on encouraging this, but she gripped his hair harder as he his trailed his lips down her chest, finding a breast and softly biting down. An involuntary moan purred in her throat. He moved to her nipple and began a rough pattern of sucking and biting, causing the heat between her legs to flare.

Again, it was as if he read her mind, as he worked her breast with his mouth, he quickly pulled down her leggings, taking her underwear with them. She was thankful she had not put on shoes to come here tonight, providing no obstacle to kicking out of her pants as he sank to his knees and began moving his lips down her stomach. Further.

“Jump,” Negan growled against her stomach.

“Wh- what?” she barely stuttered out.

“Jump.”

She hopped slightly, then she was being lifted her by her backside, her thighs placed on either side of his head, her bodyweight now shared between the wall and his shoulders. He did not waste time kissing those thighs, or staring lustfully, or slowly working his way to her center. Hungrily, almost angrily, he dove straight for her, parting her lips with his fingers to make way for his tongue. He lapped at her liked a parched animal at water, and found she was just as wet. She arched away from the wall in response. His warm tongue hitting her clit at every angle as it moved. He sucked, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she cried out. Both hands now in his hair, gripping in response to each flick of his tongue, encouraging his rough movements. She rode his face, rolling her hips, her thighs unapologetically pressing in on his head. She wouldn’t last much longer; she could feel her climax building quickly. Now his tongue was at her entrance, teasing as he gently licked around it. She pushed his head into her, needing him to be inside her, desperate to be filled and to find release. He plunged his tongue in, flatting it as he found the underside of her clit, and slowly dragged it back out and up, never breaking contact. He plunged in again with no pause. Dragging, plunging, dragging, plunging. He worked her with expert pressure, she was all but screaming at the sensation. On the last slow drag of her clit, he swept up as he exited, an unrelenting pressure on her sensitive bud, sending her orgasm exploding through her. She threw her head back and did not recognize the noise that escaped her open mouth as she came against his face. He lightly flicked his tongue against her until he was sure she had fully completed.

Before she knew it was happening, she was back on the floor, and he was walking away from her.

“You’re dismissed,” was all he said as he moved to open the door.

She gathered her clothes – she would need to have a word with him about this new habit of sending her from his room undressed – and made for the door. She paused in front of him and turned to meet his eyes, letting him see a twinge of hurt in them.

“Since you asked, and I am counting this as one of your free questions, I did not sleep with Rick or anyone else in Alexandria. And I have about as much romantic interest in Simon as you do,” and with that she made her way back to her room, naked but not caring who saw her.

Back in the dorm, she raced to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before vomiting. Sherry must have heard her, because moments later she was sitting beside her, holding her hair back. Sherry sat with her until she was finished, and then let her lay her head in Sherry’s lap while Sherry stroked her hair.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t shake. She wasn’t traumatized. She hated herself. She hated herself because she knew then she didn’t hate Negan, and she didn’t hate what they’d just done. She hated herself because she wanted more.

It’s time, she vowed to herself, tomorrow we leave, even if we have to burn this place to the ground to get out.

[joes-sha-la-la-la-girl]

When Love and Hate Collide: Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Y/N found herself holding her breath yet again as she stood in the awkward silence. In order to avoid eye-contact she looked at her feet and waited for the lift to finally stop. There wasn’t any talk between the two but Y/N could feel Joe’s eyes on her. Part of her wanted to talk to him and ask him why he disliked her so much. But the other part of her couldn’t muster the courage to make a sound. 

After what felt like a year, the lift came to a stop in the lobby and Y/N waited for Joe to leave. As soon as he did, Y/N felt the tension roll away. Walking out before the doors closed again, Y/N made her way to the front entrance. 

She had to pass the group heading to soundcheck on her way. As she did she heard them all say goodbye to her. Waving at them all she walked up to Malvin and asked if there was anything else he needed her to do. After getting the all clear she went on her way.

*

Finally she finished shopping. Making her way back to the bus, Y/N quickly unpacked everything as they would be staying on the bus that night and went inside the venue. She was very pleased that everything was within walking distance and she didn't have to go too far. 

As she went inside she could hear all sorts of sounds as various roadies were doing the final preparations for the show. Y/N spotted Malvin quite quickly, making her way over to him.

“Y/N, I’m glad you’re here. Do you mind going backstage and making sure the boys have everything they need? Joe will need a few water bottles especially for his voice and the others may need one or two.” Malvin told her before pointing her in the right direction and walking away again. 

Y/N put on a brave face and made her way backstage. It didn’t take too long to find the dressing rooms. They all had individual ones but there was a main green room as well. Knowing better than to just walk in, Y/N knocked on the door and waited to be let in.

It was only a few seconds before she heard Sav’s voice shouting permission for her to enter. She did so slowly. Once she was inside she shut the door again, noticing that there were four smiles in her direction.

Phil and Viv had their guitars on their laps, whilst Sav held his bass and Rick had a drumstick in his hand. It didn’t take too much for Y/N to realise that she had interrupted a rehearsal. 

“Malvin just sent me back here to see if you guys needed anything before I get your water ready for the show.” She looked around at the boys, all but one gave her their full attention. The boys all shook their heads apart from Joe. Realising she would have to ask him separately, Y/N took a deep breath. Something she had been doing a lot around him.

“Joe?” She asked him. Much like that morning at breakfast, he lifted his head up at his name but refused to make eye contact. He just shook his head and went back to ignoring her. Nodding her head slightly, she informed them all that she would be back with their water for the show. She dreaded the next few hours where she would have to sit with them all in case they needed anything. She loved their company but with Joe there, there was always an air of tension, making everyone uncomfortable.

Y/N went to the store room that the venue had put aside for things to be held for the band and retrieved water for all the guys. Carrying them back in a crate, Y/N didn’t see someone walking towards her until the last minute. Bumping into them, Y/N started to apologise again, still not seeing who it was. All the bottles had fallen to the floor and she quickly crouched down to pick them up. The person in front of her hesitated before kneeling down to help her. 

Sending them her thanks, Y/N looked up to see the one and only Joe Elliott. Internally face palming for bumping into him yet again, She apologised again before getting cut off.

“It’s fine.” Joe mumbled, “Let me just help you take these to the dressing room.” Although he offered, Y/N got from the tone of his voice that it was the last thing he wanted to be doing. Y/N just let him help her, not wanting to upset him anymore than she already seemed to. After they got all the bottles in the crate, Y/N went to pick them up but was stopped by Joe doing so. 

“It’s obvious that if you carry these you’ll bump into someone again, so just let me.” Joe snapped at her. Having enough of his attitude towards her over the last two days, Y/N started talking before she could stop herself.

“Why do you hate me?” She asked him. Instantly regretting saying anything when she saw him roll his eyes. 

“Not everyone always gets along, Little Miss Perfect.” Joe told her sharply. Ignoring the name calling, Y/N decided to push it further. If she was going to spend the next year with this man, then she at least needed to know why he was acting like this towards her.

“I know that” Y/N spoke trying to keep her voice calm, not showing him how nervous he was making her, “But I haven’t, to my knowledge, actually done anything to you to warrant this hostility.” 

“Maybe not. I know what you are doing and I’m not going to let you do it.”

Y/N looked at him quizzically, “What am I doing?” She asked him.

“Don’t take me for a fool Miss Y/L/N. This must be great for you, travelling with rockstars, spending every minute with them. Just know that I’m never going to let you get too close.” Joe clenched his fists around the crate. Walking on ahead, leaving Y/N more confused than before.

Reluctantly, Y/N follows him to the dressing room. Their argument, if she could even call it that, had left her feeling sick almost, it was one thing not to like her, but another to accuse her of something, not telling her what it was. 

The rest of the band could feel the thick air as the two walked back into the dressing room. Joe walked back out again, mumbling something about ‘finally going to the bathroom’ and Sav looked at Y/N for answers.

“Everything alright?” He asked her softly. He couldn’t and quite frankly didn’t want to, believe that his best friend could treat someone this way. Nodding her head, Y/N told him not to worry about it. Wanting him to just focus on their first show of the tour. Sav took this as an answer for now, knowing that he would have to find out more at some point for the sake of everybody on the tour. 

*

The show went great, like always. Y/N went and watched from the side. This was her first Def Leppard show and she could only imagine if it was this great from backstage, then it must have been fantastic for the fans, surrounded by the atmosphere of the rest of the audience. She held the water on the side for all five of them, Joe coming to her twice for some water. Both times he nodded in thanks and left again straight after. 

Y/N congratulated all of them as they finally left the stage after their encore. Joe walked straight past her but Sav and Viv gave her a sweaty hug and Phil and Rick walked with her as they went back to their dressing room. There was a set of showers down the corridor so all five went off to shower and Y/N waited for them before she would help escort them to the hotel. By help she meant, walk with them and try not to get trampled by fans.

*

Going back to the hotel had been a task but the band went to the hotel bar to celebrate. Not necessarily with alcohol but to unwind after the show. They had a few days before the next show, so one late night wouldn’t matter. Tomorrow the band will make their way to the next hotel and rest. Y/N let them all have time as a band, refusing Viv’s offer to join them and went upstairs to her room for an early night. 

However, that didn’t quite go to plan. She couldn’t settle and decided that she would go for a short walk instead. She had a few hours before the hotel locked up for the night. Going downstairs, she hadn’t realised how stressed out she looked. The disagreement with Joe running through her head. As she left the lift, she saw Sav about to get in. When he saw her appearance however, he stopped her.

“Where’re you going?” He asked her, putting his hand on her arm in an attempt to comfort her.

“Just for a walk. I won’t be long.” She smiled at him.

“Mind if I join?” Sav knew there was something bothering her but didn’t know what. He also knew that LA wasn’t the safest alone at night and wanted to make sure she was alright. Y/N nodded at him and allowed him to walk alongside her. Not noticing a pair of eyes watching them leave.

[aoyagi-vbs]

hey there you’re getting ethan nakamura lore from percy jackson and the olympians hit book series written by rick riordan because i need to cope and i have autism and my hyperfixations are so CR詠ZY that once i’m obsessed over something i will be obsessed until i turn thirtyseven years old and also because i quite like you and ethan nakamura and i would very much like it if one of my favorite pjsk character knew about my favorite percy jackson character

so where do i start. okay. let’s start on ethan nakamura right guys? yeah. so i have been hyperfixating on this stupid guy for years. it started when i was like nine or ten. when i read the first book he appeared in (the battle of the labyrinth fyi.) i was like “wow, what a silly dude. i quite like him.” boy oh boy was that just the beginning. hot diggity dog have i become an ethan nakamura superfan. keep in mind this boy had like atleast thirteen mentions in the series, tops. i was living off CRUMBS.

ethan first came to camp half-blood (the place where demigods [half god half human] go to train) with a satyr, those ugly half goat half human things. except grover. he’s not ugly. he was left unclaimed, meaning his godly parent, nemesis (goddess of retribution), did not claim him as her son. ethan felt like he was being ignored, and felt irritated because of this. this was what fueled him to join the titan army, aka kronos’ army (kronos is the evil titan dude who wants to kill the greek gods.) one day, ethan met his mother nemesis, who told him that in exchange for his left eye, he would some day balance the world’s power. ethan willingly gave her his left eye and covered it up with a black eyepatch.

!!!spoilers after this part perchance….!!!

ethan first appears in the battle of the labyrinth, the fourth book. percy (main character obviously), annabeth (percy’s stupid girlfriend i love her), grover, and tyson all travelled to the labyrinth (the labyrinth is a maze if you can remember) with a mortal girl named rachel elizabeth dare who could see through the mist (a spell thing that makes it so that humans are unable to see what demigods can see; monsters, swords, etc.) rachel accidentally leads the four into antaeus’ arena, where percy was forced to fight a dracaena. after defeating it, he then moved on to fight ethan nakamura. this is when he is first introduced. who cheered. i did. i cheered. ethan, despite lacking a left eye, had good swordsmanship and was able to attack well. however, his heavy greek armor tired him out quickly, and percy ended up defeating him. though, he spares his life. okay blah blah blah percy fights antaeus then percy, rachel, annabeth, grover, tyson, and ethan run away from the arena. ethan refuses their help like the boyboss he is and returns to the arena, where the titan army was. in a later chapter, ethan is seen resurrecting the titan lord, kronos. percy thinks of ethan as a traitor because of this. during the fifth and final book, the last olympian, ethan on the princess andromeda, a ship where the titan army stays. percy, accompanied by charles beckendorf (a hephaestus kid [greek god of fire and inventing.] y’know rui kamishiro would totally be a hephaestus son), board the ship and set off bombs in an attempt to temporarily set back the army. they both get captured, but charles sacrifices himself by detonating the bombs whilst percy jumps off board. i miss charles, but that’s another lore dump for another day. did you know…. ethan nakamura survives the explosion…. no? yeah, he did!!!!!!!!! who cheered!!! i did!!! ethan is then seen again when manhattan (new york, olympus is located in the empire state building in the book) is under attack by kronos’ army and the demigods are left to defend the camp. at the time, percy had bathed in the river styx, the same river that achilles bathed in to gain his strength, but percy’s weak spot was his lower back. ethan had somehow known percy’s weak spot and attempted to stab him there, but PERCY’S STUPID GIRLFRIEND ANNABETH decided to block it and take the strike herself. later on, when kronos was destroying the olympian throne room, percy begged ethan to change ways and proved that kronos was evil. in a moment of reflection, ethan rebelled against kronos and attempted to stab him with his blade. however, the knife shatters against kronos and a piece of the blade cuts through ethan’s stomach, making him the last person kronos killed. before his death, he told percy that the minor gods such as his mother nemesis needed to be respected and needed a throne as well, because they were thought of lowly. percy made a shrine for ethan after the battle and chose to remember him by his good deeds instead of his bad ones.

not spoilers! ethan is of half-greek and half-japanese descent, being the son of nemesis and another unspoken father figure who was never mentioned in the books. he is impulsive and very brave, and according to percy, was a very skilled fighter. he is driven towards his goals and determined to achieve them, despite the consequences such as betrayal. since his mother was quite literally the goddess of retribution, he always had a strong sense of balancing things, and eventually repaid the favor of percy saving him. like most demigods, he was born with adhd, which gave him the ability to last long in battle, and dyslexia, which allows him to read ancient greek rather than regular english.

ethan nakamura is my favorite character in the entire percy jackson series. thalia might be a close favorite BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT, ETHAN NAKAMURA IS THE MAIN FOCUS HERE!!! okay. so i’ve seen a lot of people legitimately hate or dislike ethan nakamura, which really makes me mad. like what did this boy do to you. what could this silly guy have possibly done to make you dislike him. not every titan army member is bad! except luke, i hate luke. back to our lord and savior ethan nakamura! he actually wasn’t that bad, but a lot of you HATERS are not ready for this conversation… he had a reason to join the titan army. he was ignored by his godly parent for, like, EVER. most demigods would’ve been claimed by now. this man is probably in the underworld  watching the kids in the other cabins sleep on beds while he had to sleep on the wooden floor of the packed hermes cabin. and that cabin probably smelled like body odor or something. okay, anyways. nemesis, his mom, ignored him for ages until she randomly pulls up, saying he’ll balance the worlds power. and since the gods are like the most powerful and he saw them AS powerful, he thought that maybe y’know…. getting rid of the gods would work. maybe that would balance the worlds power and make his mom finally give him some recognition. SEE HERE. CHARACTER DETAILS!! HE DID IT FOR RETRIBUTION!!! HE DID IT IN THE NAME OF HIS MOM!!! HE WANTED RECOGNITION!!! i cannot stress this enough. ethan wanted to be acknowledged by his mom. that was all he wanted. i don’t even KNOW if he got that in the end. he also had his character development. he tried to stab kronos, but that stupid blade shattered and straight up stabs him in the stomach. he dies!!! he sacrifices himself. and guess what!!!!! nemesis!!! is!!! associated!!! with!!! SACRIFICE!!! he died in his mom’s name! wowza!!!!!! no idea if his mom even cared, but wow i’d be really proud of my son if he died trying to save the world y’know… and in MY name too. if that’s not enough to satisfy nemesis, then i don’t know what is. then again, she’s a greek god. greek gods treat their children like crap. so i can’t really expect anything from them, much less nemesis. okay hi thank you for coming to my ted talk all my opps hate ethan nakamura

The tidbits of general lore here are....a wild ride, as someone who hasn't associated with Percy Jackson in general.

(See: "Like most demigods, he was born with ADHD," or, "Greek gods treat their children badly," and especially, "Olympus is located in the empire state building in the book,")

Nakamura himself has solid motivations, even if his initial alliances were questionable. I don't understand why some people bother spend their energy bashing characters for doing bad things, primarily when they're written to be antagonistic in order to drive the plot forward. It irks me in cases where the characters' reasons are explained and understandable (even if their actions are not), yet people choose to ignore them still.

Ah, he ended up acting in the name of redemption. Good for him, good for him.

[chernobog13]

Batman and Manhunter (Paul Kirk) by Walt Simonson.

This version of Manhunter has a rather confusing history. Originally, Paul Kirk was a private investigator, created by Ed Moore, who starred in his own serial in Adventure Comics (vol. 1) starting with issue #58 (January, 1941). The feature was titled Paul Kirk, Manhunter, but that was just a description of the job he did, not a nickname he used, nor was he ever called that.

The Paul Kirk, Manhunter feature ended in issue #72.

The final appearance of Paul Kirk, Manhunter, from Adventure Comics #72.

Adventure Comics #73, April 1942)* saw the debut of a new, costumed Manhunter feature by Joe Simon and Jack Kirby.

The new Manhunter was Rick Nelson (no, not Ozzie and Harriet's kid), a former big game hunter who decided he should put his skills to use hunting down criminals. He donned a costume and began his career as a crimefighter.

The cover of Adventure Comics #73, the new Manhunter's first appearance, and page 8 from his initial story. Obviously, no one at DC editorial knew that Manhunter had a blue face mask, which is why the colorist went out of his way to create a mask for the character.

Adventure Comics #75, wherein everyone is finally on the same page about the mask, except now his ear is blue as well.

As you can tell from these images, the new Manhunter definitely was in no way related to the previous feature with Paul Kirk.

Except by his second appearance in Adventure Comics #74 the character's name was changed from Rick Nelson to Paul Kirk. I don't know why made that decision, although many sources point the finger at DC's editorial staff. Anyhow, that led to the original Paul Kirk getting completely retconned out of DC continuity.

Simon and Kirby left the Manhunter feature after Adventure Comics #80 (November, 1942), although they were still doing the Sandman feature in that book. Manhunter's final appearance was in Adventure Comics #92 (June, 1944).

Writer/editor Archie Goodwin and artist Walt Simonson revived the Manhunter character for a series of 8-page back-up stories in Detective Comics (vol. 1) #473 (November, 1973).

The new Manhunter by Walt Simonson. The figure is from a DC house ad.

This new Manhunter was a revived and revised Paul Kirk. Kirk had given up the costumed crimefighter gig and returned to big game hunting. He was mortally wounded during a hunt, and that would have been the end of him. But an organization called the Council found him, used their super-science to heal him, and gave him a genetic enhancement that gave him advanced healing. They also cloned him enough times to create a small army, of which Kirk was leader.

Goodwin and Simonson were going to make their Manhunter a completely original character. However, they used Simon and Kirby's version of Paul Kirk so that they did not have to spend their limited comic book pages to create a back story for their hero.

Kirk eventually realized the Council was up to no good and began working to take the organization down. He gained some allies along the way, including Batman. Together they brought an end to the Council, although Kirk lost his life - for good this time - when he caused the Council's HQ to explode.

Jack Kirby tried to revive his Joe Simon's version of Manhunter in 1st Issue Special #5 (August, 1975).

The main character was Mark Shaw, not Paul Kirk, but the costumes were very similar. Jack also established an ancient organization that picked worthy individuals to act as a Manhunter to take down the criminals and gangs that the police could not - or would not - touch.

Unfortunately, Jack never got to finish that story. Instead, Steve Englehart took the concept and ran with it in a totally different direction during his brief tenure as the writer on Justice League of America.

That was not the end of the Manhunter character, of course, which has been revived several more times (including twice by surviving clones of Kirk). But that's a post for another day.

(* In March, 1942, one month before Simon and Kirby's Manhunter debuted, Quality Comics introduced their own Manhunter in Police Comics #8.

This guy was Dan Richards, a police rookie who graduated at the bottom of his academy class. A friend of his got framed, so Richards donned a rather dull costume (sometimes without pants, and the footprint chest emblem didn't last long) to fight crime. He was assisted by his faithful dog, Thor.

This Manhunter outlasted DC's version by a good stretch, until August, 1950's Police Comics #101.

Shortly thereafter, DC bought all of Quality's characters. Eventually all of them were incorporated into the DC Universe. The two different Manhunters finally met, post-Crisis On Infinite Earths, in All-Star Squadron #31.)