#like carol ever heard of contacts?

[humandisastertonystark]

*Flashback to the time where someone on insta was unironically claiming that "Tom wouldn't let anything happen that would ruin Loki"*

...and I just ┬⁠─⁠─⁠┬⁠◡⁠ﾉ⁠(⁠°⁠ ⁠-⁠°⁠ﾉ⁠) sis, do you really think the actor has ANY actual say about how the show will go cuz I swear to satan

Just bc Hiddleston is the actor doesn't mean he can't do anything wrong or I have to agree with everything he does

Hey, uh, in one of your posts some time back you mentioned that the Loki fandom has this collectively-agreed upon version of Loki that isn’t really found in canon—I’m not really “in” the fandom, but I’m interested in that phenomenon as a widespread, mutually agreed-upon non-canon characterization. Care to go into more detail about who “fanon Loki” is, to satisfy my scientific curiosity?

oh lol sorry i was not clear and didn't use a sarcasm tag. I was very definitely being sarcastic.

Some other fans (a few of those who like and approve of the Loki series' depiction of the character) have been claiming that the "fanfic" version was just a headcanon invented whole cloth by fans and that those of us who think the Loki in the show is OOC are basically delusional and are mad that our headcanon version isn't in the show.

In response, i was implying that that version was indeed found in canon, and was in fact a very vivid and lasting portrayal, because otherwise there would be no reason for so many fans (who don't tend to agree on much) to have collectively "invented" such a strikingly similar headcanon version that was consistent, cohesive, and coherent in thousands of fics written from 2011 to 2016 (and thereafter, by those of us who have been here the whole time and are still sticking to the earlier version).

I mean, just on probability alone, what's more likely---that so many fans (who, again, don't tend to agree on anything!) collectively imagined the exact same headcanon that was never depicted in canon?* Or that some fans of the current show feel a need to defend their preferred version at others' expense by claiming that the character has always been like this and never changed at all and anyone who thinks otherwise is just crazy?

(It's also funny when they claim, in the same breath, that the only people complaining are the hardcore Loki fans and that the show is aimed at a wider audience so of course it's not for us and we shouldn't be mad that they made Loki "actually fun now." Which is an idea that would seem to suggest that, uh, maybe the version in the show, uh, is different? Like to appeal to a wider audience? So which is it, guys?)

*And I'm not talking about the like, oh, "Thor loves poptarts" sort of thing, which absolutely does happen in fandoms. But rather a whole coherent psychological picture of the character, and one that we can easily point to examples and details from the earlier movies to support. The issue, I guess, is that due to the sort of character Loki is, the canon support is not what's stated blatantly by the POV characters (who, given that Loki was an antagonist, have limited insight into his motivations) but rather comes from what we are shown of Loki's behavior and actions and what a thoughtful viewer with a reasonable level of media literacy can infer from those.

Basically, earlier fandom was picking up what was absolutely there in the canon depiction of the earlier movies. Those movies just used more subtlety and nuance in their depiction of the character, and (some) fans of the current show who did not notice those levels are suggesting that means it didn't exist.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley never imagined he'd get to have even one all encompassing love of his life, let alone two. But he could barely put Rose down for more than a minute, already wrapped around her tiny fingers. He couldn't wait to take both of you home.

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

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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

Exhaustion washed over you like a wave as soon as your daughter was born. The pain started to subside only to be replaced by a bone deep desire to close your eyes and not open them again for a very long time. You were sweaty and damp everywhere, and your head felt fuzzy. But as soon as you heard your daughter start to cry, it felt like a jolt of adrenaline hit your nerves.

The sound of Rose wailing made you smile even as tears streaked down your cheeks, and Dr. Morris said, "Congratulations. A perfect little girl. Time of birth, 1:02 a.m. on March twenty-second." She was officially here.

Your husband's smile matched your own as he whispered, "That's our perfect little girl, Sweetheart."

"It's Rosie," you sobbed, and Bradley kissed your lips while you tried to catch your breath. The nurses were weighing and measuring Rose, and you wanted to hold her, but your arms felt so heavy, you weren't sure you would be able to. But you were just in awe of her. "We have a daughter."

"A Nugget," Bradley replied with a nod, his voice shaking slightly with emotion. Rose was naked and crying, and your husband had the softest look you'd ever seen on his face. His excitement to become a father made your entire pregnancy easier, because you didn't feel alone. He'd been worshipping your body and writing in the notebook for months, promising you he was ready for this. And now, as the nurse approached both of you with your daughter, it was his time to get exactly what he wanted.

"You hold her first, Daddy," you whispered, and he was instantly reaching out to take her. She looked perfect in his arms.

"Oh my god. Look at her," he gasped as she tried to snuggle against him.

"She really is perfect," you whispered, and he nodded as he watched her yawn with a big smile on his face.

"Rose Carole Bradshaw," he said, voice deep with emotion as he carefully placed her in your arms. "We already love you so much."

You gasped as the weight of your child pressed against you, and Bradley ran his fingers along her fuzzy hair as one of the nurses started to untie your gown and open it. "Try some skin to skin contact with the baby," she said softly, wiping Rose clean as she curled up against your bare chest.

Your hand came to rest on her back, and you weren't even surprised to find your vision was blurry again. "She's so small," you marveled as she puckered her lips and rubbed her face against you. When you met Bradley's gaze, he was still kneeling next to the bed with the sappiest, lovesick smile on his face.

"She looks like you," he whispered, tracing her tiny shoulder with his index finger. "God, she's so cute."

You looked up at the nurse, realizing you were going to be leaving the hospital in the next day or two, at which point you and Bradley would be completely on your own. Your nipples were leaking like crazy at the moment as Rose let out a soft cry. "Is she hungry? How do I know if she's hungry? Am I supposed to just like put her on my boob?"

Bradley grunted in response, his finger trailing up Rose's arm. He probably thought he was in for a treat hours ago when your water broke, but now he was cracking his back and trying to stand, wincing as he stretched. Luckily the nurse had mercy on you and helped you get Rose into position while Bradley leaned on the bed next to you.

"If she's hungry, she might latch right on. If she doesn't seem to be getting the hang of it, you can talk to a lactation specialist in a few hours."

But you didn't think that would be an issue. Your daughter seemed hungry and also seemed to know what she needed to do in order to be fed. "Oh!" you gasped at the feel of her. It was foreign but not unpleasant, and really nothing you'd ever seen before was as adorable as your own baby. Her little fingers were curled into a fist which was resting on your chest as she ate.

When the nurse walked away, Bradley leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Don't worry," he murmured, running his nose along your cheek, "if you've got any issues, I'm actually something of a lactation specialist myself." You couldn't help but laugh as he let his hand come to rest on top of yours where you were holding Rose in place. "You did this, Sweetheart," he whispered, clearly already entranced by his daughter. "You made my life better than my wildest dreams."

You wanted to argue and tell him that you did it together, but Rose seemed to be getting tired which was making you tired. Her tiny yawn was too cute for words, and now her nose was pressed into the side of your boob as she made herself comfortable.

"Close your eyes," Bradley whispered next to your ear. "I'll watch over both of you. I won't go anywhere."

Within minutes, you fell asleep in the hospital bed, mostly naked with your daughter occasionally wriggling against your chest and your husband's hand in yours.

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

"You're something else," Bradley murmured with a chuckle. You dozed off and on for the rest of the night while he held Rose, handing her over each time she got fussy, looking for something to fill her belly. "But you're just so damn cute."

"Don't swear in front of the baby," you murmured as you curled up on your side, watching him. "I don't want her to have all of your bad habits."

As if you couldn't teach a class on Creative Cursing, especially considering the things you said when you were in labor. Bradley kissed Rose's tiny fist and said, "Mommy doesn't know what she's talking about about. I don't have any bad habits."

"Okay," you said a bit sarcastically. "Then what would you consider a potty mouth? And snacking all day long?"

Bradley laughed. "Well, she has the snacking thing down already. Can't keep her away from your tits for more than an hour or two." He kissed her soft skin again. "Just like your old man."

She yawned and curled up, wrapping her fingers in his bit of chest hair. He'd taken his undershirt off, wanting to try the skin to skin thing for himself, and that's when he realized just how relaxing it was. This must have been why you fell asleep so easily earlier with Rose on your chest. She was like a heating pad. Or a little blanket that smelled sweet.

"Has she been in her bassinet at all?" you asked. 

Bradley looked at the metal cart on wheels with the bassinet on top of it and shook his head. The thing looked cold and uncomfortable, nothing like the crib waiting for her at home. But he smiled when he read the card that had been placed in the side of it. 

Rose Carole Bradshaw

Born: March 22nd, 01:02

Length: 19 inches

Weight: 6 pounds, 14 ounces

"No, I've been holding her. Why would I put her down?"

You and Rose yawned in unison. "So you can change out of your flight suit and get some rest."

The fabric was rough, but the sleeves were tucked out of the way; he wouldn't make his perfect little girl touch anything that wasn't soft. "I'm fine," he promised, his boot squeaking on the floor as he adjusted his foot. He carefully stood with Rose held firmly against his chest and murmured, "You didn't even give Daddy a chance to get changed after work. You were too excited to stay put any longer."

"Work," you gasped, looking around the room. "Where's my phone? Did I leave it at home? I need to tell Bickel I won't be at work. Oh my god, I need to call my parents!"

"I took care of it," he replied softly, walking around and bobbing a little bit so she would stay asleep. "Bickel has been texted. Your parents have been, too. Jake and Nat and the others all know I'm the proudest dad in the world. I took a bunch of pictures on your phone, and now it's charging by the window. I've got this. Just relax."

That's when two of the younger, female nurses walked in again. The ones who seemed to gawk at him whenever he greeted them. Bradley nodded in their direction while he unplugged your phone with one hand and held Rose with the other.

"Just checking to see if you need anything," one of them said, eyes trailing down to where his flight suit was bunched up around his hips. At least the second nurse was attaching the blood pressure cuff to your arm as she stared at him. 

"My wife probably wants breakfast," he mused. "Do you have any little packets of hot sauce? I forgot to pack some in the overnight bags."

"I'll take care of it," the first nurse said, almost running from the room before she even asked what you wanted to eat. When they were both gone, you laughed at Bradley as you stretched and got out of bed. 

"They can't handle how hot you look," you told him, walking around carefully. You'd obviously be sore for a few days, and he didn't want you lifting a finger for a single damn thing. But as you made your way toward him with a smile on your face, his heart beat a little faster. 

"I can't handle how hot you look," he murmured, still bouncing slightly in place as Rose snoozed.

You glared at him. "I just delivered a baby like seven hours ago. I look gross. I smell disgusting."

"You're perfect."

He collected you against his side and watched as you leaned in close until your nose barely touched Rose's, and a smile found your lips. "How did we make something so cute?" you whispered, hand coming to rest on Bradley's bare abs. "I can't stop looking at her."

"Right? I mean, my god, Sweetheart... I'm never going to be able to put her down."

You rubbed his flat tummy and whispered, "Look, she's waking up. I want a turn," as you tried to reach for her. Rose immediately started crying, and Bradley laughed.

"Better get your tits ready. She's hungry."

Of course the nurse showed up just in time to hear that and see those beautiful tits as you settled on the small sofa with Rose. The baby calmed down again immediately when she realized you were going to feed her, and Bradley collected the enormous breakfast platter with a smile as the nurse stared at his bare chest.

"Thanks," he murmured when he saw the tiny bottles of hot sauce. "My wife loves hot sauce."

The nurse looked at you a bit wistfully as she turned to leave again, but you were completely absorbed with Rose. "She's adorable," you crooned. "Even her crying sounds kind of cute."

"I didn't want to say anything before," Bradley said, almost relieved, "but it's a very cute cry." 

He took a few enormous bites of the bacon, eggs and pancakes, realizing he was running on pure adrenaline and about to crash if he didn't get something in his stomach. Then he loaded up the fork with eggs dipped in hot sauce and carefully fed it to you, cupping his hand over Rose's head so he didn't make a mess while she enjoyed her own breakfast.

The bead of milk forming on your nipple was highly distracting, and Bradley grunted as he watched you feed her until she was full and drowsy again. He wanted to ask you if you'd let him taste you again when he got the three of you home, but your parents called while you were finishing your pancakes. When he switched the call over to facetime, both of your parents started crying.

"Rose! She's beautiful," your mom said, wiping at her eyes with a tissue.

"How's everyone doing?" your dad asked, leaning in closer to get a better look at their granddaughter asleep in a onesie in Bradley's arms.

You started to tell him that you were feeling pretty good when your mom cut you off. "When can we come out to San Diego? Tomorrow? Next week? I need to hold that little girl in person as soon as possible."

Bradley chuckled while you sighed. "Mom, just let us get settled at home with Tramp for a day or two, okay? And then we can decide?"

She nodded, but it didn't seem like she was listening as her head tilted to the side with a sigh. "She's just perfect, isn't she?"

"Just like my wife," Bradley remarked, and your mom swooned a little bit more.

You spent the next five minutes trying to get them to end the call before you promised to send dozens of photos throughout the day, but it wasn't until Dr. Morris arrived that they actually agreed to go.

"You gave us a bit of a scare with your blood pressure," your doctor remarked, checking it one more time for herself. While she did so, she looked at Bradley and said, "You can send the baby down to the nursery for a bit if you need a break."

He stared at her and snuggled Rose a little tighter. "No, I'm fine." He couldn't fathom that anyone would want to put their newborn in one of those bassinets and send them to the nursery. He could sit here with her all day.

"How is my blood pressure now?" you asked as Bradley kissed the top of Rose's head over and over again while she slept.

"Much better," she promised, and Bradley let out the breath he wasn't really aware he had been holding. "I'll probably send you home tomorrow morning, but I'll leave some information with you now that you can start reading." She turned toward Bradley as she handed you a folder and added, "The nurses in the nursery are there specifically so you can get some rest. And they know how to wrap the babies up in their receiving blankets like tiny burritos."

"Really?" Bradley asked, suddenly intrigued. "Could they teach me how to do the burrito wrap?"

"I'm certain they could," she said with a smile before leaving.

"Do not put hot sauce on our child," you said, tossing your hospital gown aside and standing there naked. It was strange to see your belly this way as he held the child in question. You were somewhere between your normal state and your fully pregnant state, and it was just something he would have to get used to seeing. "I'm going to take a shower."

Bradley reached for your hand, and you let him have it. "I'm going to turn our child into a burrito."

"Please put a shirt on first. It's really too much, Roo." You smirked before ducking into the bathroom. 

Very, extremely begrudgingly, Bradley set Rose down in the uncomfortable looking bassinet for the very first time while he dug around in his overnight bag for a shirt. Then he carefully rolled her to the nursery where one of the nurses wrapped Rose up into a very soft pink and blue blanket. It was striped and reminded him of the Nugget notebook, and she looked snug and sleepy in it.

"Can you make sure I do it right?" he asked the nurse. "I want to impress the hell out of my wife."

She smiled and carefully unwrapped the baby so he could try. Rose stretched her fist up toward the light and smiled when he ran his fingers along her cheek. "She's your first?" the nurse asked him while he got to work.

"Yeah," he replied, grinning. He paused before adding, "She was born less than twelve hours ago, but it feels like she's been around since I first learned about her. Been getting excited since July." He tucked the end of the blanket in and patted her. "Looks just like a burrito."

The nurse laughed. "It's called a swaddle, and you're very good at it. Do you want to leave her in the nursery for a little while so you can get some rest?"

Bradley looked around at his surroundings. The room was cozy and clean, but he shook his head as he picked Rose up again. "Nah. I just can't seem to put her down for more than a minute or two," he replied, kissing her nose before she yawned again.

"You'll be a good dad."

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

You lounged around in the hospital room in the robe you got from Nat, feeding Rose whenever she started to cry for you. Bradley was never too far away, opting to hold her as much as possible. As afternoon turned into evening, he eyed you up and down and said, "Do you want to put on some real clothes from your overnight bag?"

"Why?" Then there was a soft knock at the door, and you sat up in the bed. "I thought we said we'd wait until we got home to have visitors?"

"Well, this one wouldn't take no for an answer," he replied with a bit of an eye roll. He had Rose pressed against his chest with one big hand, and he opened the door to reveal Nat holding an enormous bouquet of colorful roses.

"Oh my god," she gasped, tossing the flowers onto the foot of the bed as soon as she saw the baby. "She's really here. You're really parents!"

Bradley held up his palm and said, "Go wash your germy hands," as soon as his best friend reached for the baby.

"Roo," you scolded with a smile. "Ask her nicely. She's Rosie's godmother."

Nat's dark eyes went wide and then welled up with tears as she ran into the bathroom. Bradley leaned down to give you a kiss. "Thanks," he murmured.

"I wanted it to be her, too," you insisted. "I mean, look how excited she is."

Nat ran back out of the bathroom, gave you a kiss on the cheek, and then plopped down on the couch. "Please?" she asked, making grabby hands at Bradley and Rose.

After he handed her over, your husband finally took the time to take off his boots, and he went into the bathroom to replace his flight suit with a pair of gym shorts. Then he climbed into the bed with you and murmured, "I'll just rest for a few minutes while Nat's holding her."

His heavy hand rested on the tie of your robe as you whispered, "I think that's a great idea." Three seconds later, he was snoring softly. He'd been awake for thirty-six hours, and he was the only one who seemed unable to admit that he was exhausted. But he was as entranced by your newborn as you were, and you didn't want to tell him he should put her down and rest when he was having the time of his life. 

You ran your fingers through his messy hair as Nat cooed softly at Rose. "You are adorable," she said before looking up at you. "Seriously, she's so cute."

"Bradley hasn't set her down for more than twenty minutes since she was born, and even then it was just so I could feed her or have a chance to hold her myself."

"Sounds like you got your dad wrapped around your tiny fingers already."

"She really does," you replied softly, tracing the scars on Bradley's cheek while he slept. You didn't rush Nat out of the room, and she didn't seem to want to leave. When Rose started fussing, she handed her over to you so you could feed her, and Bradley continued to snore. Once her belly was full, Nat walked her around until she burped, and soon she was yawning again.

"Should I just set her in the bassinet so everyone can sleep for a bit?" Nat whispered.

"Please."

She put her down as carefully as you would have yourself, then she rolled the cart over until it was right next to the bed. "Call me if you need anything once you get home. Groceries, someone to walk Tramp, a break from the baby, anything."

"Thanks, Nat," you said over Bradley's snores.

"I take godmothering very seriously."

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

"I still can't believe you tricked me into sleeping all night."

"You were exhausted, Bradley."

"But I missed out on hours with the Nugget."

"But now she's about to go for her first ride in the Bronco. This is even more exciting."

Bradley was still pouting a bit as he drove the three of you home in his vintage Bronco the next morning, going about fifteen miles per hour. He'd never driven this slowly before in his life that you knew of, and you were getting impatient in the backseat with Rosie. She had her fingers wrapped around your thumb while you read through your discharge paperwork from Dr. Morris.

"This says we have to take Rose to the pediatrician within the next week. And there's a bunch of information on how we need to place her in her crib at bedtime. And we can't have sex for six weeks while I heal."

You were met with a few seconds of dead silence as you watched Bradley's face go pale in the rearview mirror. "Oh."

You pressed your lips together so you didn't snort. "Is that going to be a problem for you?"

Once more, silence. He cleared his throat. "Of course not." More silence. "But you can't seriously think that medical professionals expect me to live with you and not want to fuck you? Like, that's not accurate."

You laughed as Rose stared back at you from her car seat. "It's not like I'm going to leave you hanging, Roo." But you honestly didn't know how you were expected to get your husband going when your body looked like it had been weirdly deflated. And when you were this tired. And when you had to take care of your baby without the help of a full staff of nurses. 

Bradley coasted carefully into the driveway and parked next to the red Bronco. In an instant, he had the back door open and was helping you down. He kissed you hard on the lips. "You never leave me hanging. Ever. But I'm not concerned about that right now." You wrapped your arms around his neck, and his lips ended up teasing your ear as he said, "Let's get Rosie inside. I've been dreaming about showing her around her nursery for months."

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

We have a Rosie. We have a DILF. We have a MILF. We have a godmother. We just need a godfather. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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[darylsfavoritegirl]

Yk that argument Daryl had with Shane at the barn? Put your own spin on it and include the reader somehow, maybe she even tries to break them up and he is still pissed. Afterwards he goes off to sulk in his anger trying to ignore you, but it’s too hard

۶•ৎ

The Odd Man Out

There you all were, away from Hershel's house, near the barn. Your heart was pumping blood more than what felt like necessary, your knees had become weak, all ready to betray you and cause you to collapse to the ground.

"This is unacceptable, man." Shane breathed out with fire, drawing circles infront of the barn gate.

"All this time..." He didn't finish his sentence and chuckled exasperatedly.

"Shane. Calm down. This is Hershel's land."

"I'll- I'll find a way to figure this-"

Shane came at Rick when Lori got between the two of them, pressing her right hand to Shane's chest. Her eyes scolded him as Shane gave her a quick stare and rolled his eyes.

Shane was staring at the barn gate, hands rested on his hips, shaking his head as all you could hear was him mumbling to himself.

Your eyes scanned the barn and its perimeter, observing every distressed face.

"You know we gotta leave man. Now we been talking about Fort Benning for a while..." Shane turned to all of you as Rick didn't let him say a word and raised his hand as a warning.

"We can't leave." He shook his head.

The side of your eyes caught Carol and how he wrapped her arms around herself, bottom lip trembling, eyes glossy with tears to come.

"My daughter is out there." Her voice was shaky. She looked taken aback as everyone gazed upon her. You could tell she didn't like to be the center of attention, especially at a time like this.

"We're gonna find your daughter, OK?" Lori rushed to Carol, offering a sense of support as she squeezed her arm, they were glued to one another.

Your eyes shifted to Shane as you shielded your eyes from the sun. He studied your face for a second or so. A faint snicker painted his lips. He knew why you had stayed quiet so far, he was the one that you spoke in discreet -though you felt that the cat was gonna be out of the bag any second-

You felt uneasy under his gloomy gaze as you looked away, changing your position in which you rested your entire body weight on one leg, arms crossed. You eyes were fixated on the others for a brief second to see if anyone caught that tense eye contact you happened to make with the most troubled man in the group.

Shane walked past you, not skipping to give you one last dark stare as he made his way to Rick.

"I think it's the time that we all start to just consider the other possibility."

You sensed everyone tilting their heads to his direction. Daryl stood next to you, you almost heard his breathing go more and more shallow, irritation growing denser through his veins as he fixated his eyes on him; squiented as ever, dauntless as ever.

"I ain't leavin' no one behind." He squiented his eyes at him, his body still as a stone as you could see he clenched his jaw firmly.

Shane ran his hand through his shaved head as he clasped his hands over it.

"Nah man, I-" Shane were to start another babbling session on a bothersome argument right when you flinched at Daryl's loud words.

"I'm close ta findin' dis girl. I jus' found a damn doll two days ago" He was coming at Shane when you felt like it was time you partook in this before it got out of hand.

"You found a doll, Daryl. That's what you did, you found a doll."

Shane pressed his lips together as he leered at Carol before speaking.

"All I'm sayin' is she could've been dead by now and we're-"

"Enough. Shane, enough." You looked at him in disbelief, eyes wide with your hand reflexively being up in the air towards his direction as a sense of warning before he took this any further.

"Ya dun' know the hell yer talkin' 'bout."

It was Shane one side and Daryl on the other side. Things got ugly pretty swiftly as you had to step back when Daryl came at him but it wasn't a few seconds later that you stepped in once again, punches flying in the air, some hitting your chin with their elbows. Your head and body were thrown back by their aggression reflected on their action.

Dust particles, the strings of hays that were laid out on the perimeter were awakened by this fallout. Your eyes got stung by them, this was like hell that you had no control in whatsoever.

"Hey, you back off."

"Come on now." Dale asserted.

It was Rick, Lori and you trying to break them up. Under the heat of the sun, with your red faces and greased clothes were you tossed in a fight near a barn full of walkers.

"Leave. Leave now." You demanded Shane. You pointed him with your finger, forehead wrinkled and brows creased as he clapped his hands in an amusing manner.

"You got a real mouth on you, I'll give you that." He cackled and continued with his chest heaving.

"Now you care? 'Cause last time I checked you were the one who said 'it's a waste of time anyway' " He waved his hands next to his head theatrically and thinned his voice as if to mock you.

"That's not what I said prick." You stepped forward, walking slowly as you widened your eyes. You were trying to catch your breath, unevenly panting as your eyes were out of focus.

It was Daryl's voice that stopped you

" 'S this true?" He had his hands on his hips, gazing upon you through his lashes. It was like he was let down, couldn't even stomach looking you in the eyes, though his eyes had an uneasy beam to them, as if what you were about to say meant more than what both of you could ever dare to imagine.

"No" You shook your head, you clenched your fists without noticing. You felt goosebumps swarming all over your body, somehow making you chill under the radiant sun.

"Fuck no." Your head turned to Carol instinctly, and then the others.

It was a moment of suffering. You, standing toe to toe with everyone. Their hesitant stares, their subtle glances that traveled back and forth with everyone else but you had riled you up yet you knew you were in big trouble and perhaps in the wrong.

You spanked your forehead with both of your palms, inhaling a huge breath in as you shut your eyes and stared all of them back.

"Come on. That motherfucker's lyin' to your faces."

" 'S he?" Daryl inquired, though his tone gave away that he thought he knew the answer. You could never wrap your head around how a redneck like him, could be so tender to a woman he despised. Yet there comes to question, didn't he despise you all? What had happened that he was now a decent person, defending someone who wasn't his blood nor his kin like a sworn confidant behind closed door?

Your eyes darted to the others.

"You believe him?"

Them looking down at their shoes was your answer.

"Stupid bitch."

Daryl mumbled under his breath as he walked away with slumped shoulders and a crossbow he had put aside.

Your face went white, shoulders sagging as you did what you had thought of doing all along.

You kept breathing sharply, turning around and lunging at Shane. He took a step back, eyeing Rick specifically to come and get you as he already had done so.

"Lying son of a bitch." You spat, your hair was everywhere on your face. You could hear your heartbeat in your eardrums.

"Easy. Easy." Rick kept his hand above your cleavage, fingers gripping the sides of your arms.

"I'm fine." You fumed as you moved your hair aside from your face.

"Wha's with all tha' if he 's lyin?" Daryl commented while he was tapping his feet to the ground, resembling a jaded eleven-year old in a family gathering. He pointed at you with his hand as he emphasized on the word "that". You had gone mad infront of all of them. You were bewildered, brows raised with a blank stare in your eyes for a few seconds.

"Look, that's not what I said at all." You began. You pouted your face as soon as everyone started putting your words into your mouth and jabbering.

"Geez, am I the only one who gives a damn 'bout this lil' girl?" Daryl snapped, walking around in circles and spreading out his accusing tone to everyone.

You shook your head in apace, trying to select the proper words to utter. You pressed your lips together, face heating under the wrathing heat wave. You looked around like a child in need of emotional support. Hands on your hips as Rick took a step ahead.

"Everyone go. Now. We'll sort this out tonight."

You got a chance to gaze upon Daryl for the first as his eyes were fixated on Carol. After all, they had formed a relationship out of this. You barely remembered anyone getting along with Daryl or him with others. You walked towards the house with thought filling your head and the misconception you felt needed to be debunked.

Few days passed, everyone still being furious with you. Little Sophia coming out of the barn as a walker didn't aid to your situation whatsoever.

You were sitting on a rock near the fields on Hershel's property. One of your elbows were resting on your knee as your other hand was supporting your chin. You were observing the stubble land laid out infront of you, cicadas jumping from one to another.

The wobbly wind was aggravating with the way it was blowing hot air to your face and body when your eye caught someone walking out of the woods into the stubble field.

Your position changed gradually with you fixing your hunchback as your arms fell loose next to you and you stretched your body a few inches taller to see who it was.

Daryl.

His eyes were checking out his surroundings as his crossbow was swinging on his hand. He wiped his hand on his forehead when his eyes noticed you.

Uneasy features were tugged on your face, not knowing what to do or say.

He passed by you, putting his best work not to acknowledge your existence.

"Daryl." You softly said.

Though your hands were resting on the sharp-edged rock , head slightly tilted and eyes scrutinising your knees that had scrapes all over it, you somehow managed to sense him throwing his head back and fully preparing himself to say a word to you.

"Yeah." He reacted.

It took a while for you to turn and face him entirely. He was looking rather fed up with you. His lips were pale and pressed, his goatee beard all tangled, he must've been scratching it and running his fingers through it, you assumed. It was something you had noticed him doing back in the quarry.

"I'm sorry but all I said was 'we might be better off elsewhere' when I happened to be absent-minded around him. You know-"

He squinted his eyes at you, his chest heaving up with a heartburn as he barked.

"Ain't ma headache no more."

"The girl 's dead."

He pointed one of his stained arrow at you, a vein appearing on the side of his neck. He was blaming every inch of you from head to toe.

You stood infront of him, pupils dilated, hands in a loose punch as no amount of air was enough to fill your lungs.

"And I'm terribly sorry-"

"No yea ain't." He came closer at you, crossbow on one hand and arrow on the other. His neck was stretching forward, sweat beading the below of his hairline.

"Don' give me tha' crap." He used his arrow once again, pointing it at you in a circular motion.

"Yer upset only 'cause he outed yea like tha', infront of the whole lot."

"You hear yourself?" You gasped slightly at his words. You were more confused than angry.

"Whatever dis is, keep it ta yerself."

You heard the fading tone in his voice, he grew less and less attentive with you within 5 minutes.

He adjusted his crossbow and arrows on one hand and started ambling towards the house with his hand scratching the back of his neck.

Sun shone through his golden hair, he was walking aimlessly. It was like you had sucked away the energy left in him for the day.

"Your one stupid motherfucker." You hissed, standing on your tiptoes and extending your torso forward to make sure he heard you.

It was all a misunderstanding, Shane twisting your words back then and now no one giving you the time to explain yourself but only putting words into your mouth. You had lost all hope for the situation for the time being, after all it was still so fresh, everyone was still so vulnerable. No one could even dare trying to foresee anything.

"What'd ya say?" He turned his head towards your direction, his body adjusting to his head gradually.

"No one is listening to me but they're believing that troublesack for a man." You fumed in one breath, you avoided eye contact with him.

He blew raspberries without sticking out his tongue, his cynical body language took over your mentality.

"Yer a real peach with yer tears n' all." A half smile on his lips, completely not interested in what you had to say. He had biases about you all along, this was only the cherry on top.

"Do you really think I didn't care about Sophia the slighest?" You asked with an ajar mouth, eyes fixated on his body as in order not to miss anything you could interpret for your own good.

His neck stretched forward once again, the glazing sun was aiming right at him, perhaps this wasn't the best time.

"I ain't yer buddy, ain't yer nothin' " He growled, his hands were gripping his weapon as he wiped his sweat with his arm.

"I sure ain't the one yea should be makin' amends ta" He hushed, turning around.

"I'm not making amends!" You declared.

Which was true, you weren't. You just hoped for to be understood and not have everyone jump into conclusions about you.

You heard him murmur "Sure sounds like it." As he was making his way through the long stubble to the van.

That night, on a chilly weather were you above the van with Dale as you were assigned to assist him during his watch.

You sat on one of the camp stools, shotgun laying between your thighs vertically. Though Dale was sitting infront of you, your eyes were fixated behind him. The long roads, the long fields.

"Hey, old man. Rick wants yea back at the house."

You flinched at Daryl's voice becoming less and less muffled as he came near the van.

"Ohh what now." You heard Dale complain under his breath as he got up.

"Heads up." Daryl warned as he threw his crossbow on top of the van while he was yet climbing the ladder.

He didn't expect to see you there. His eyes flickered across your face for a moment or so as he looked around subtly, obviously looking for Glenn with whom you were replaced to assist Dale.

"The hell?" He inquired deadly with half-lidded eyes as he straddled on the chair infront of you.

"Just don't even talk if you aren't good with words." You huffed, not even seeing him fit to make eye contact with.

He remained silent as he rubbed his eyes. He hadn't been getting any sleep.

"Ain't no need fer words with yer bullshit." He scoffed, resting his head on his hands, looking around just like you.

"All this time spent together and you haven't figured out what kind of a person I could be. Not even the slighest, huh?" You sighed, not rushing, taking your time with each word.

Your heart was sinking down your torso, it felt like. Your eyes were droppy, fingers at the tip of the shotgun, seeking to be occupied by anything. Anything but him.

His eyes were glued on your eyes as you weren't bothering to meet with his gaze.

You pegged him for a complex man at all times, deep down you always knew he wasn't someone easy to come terms with. You were not gonna be seen by him, not in this, not in anything.

But at that exact moment, when two of you took a minute to enjoy the calmness, quietness around you, letting your minds talk to yourselves instead of words, you dared to hope for a change.

He could change after all, you saw it with your own eyes.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

A/N: well this request had been on my asks since the beginning of this year... so i hope you still enjoy this anon!! also dumb me accidentally replied to a different request🥲🥲 so if that anon got the notification, im sorry, feel free to request whatever you want bae!!!

also i think i never wrote for season 2 daryl before huh? i hope this was satisfying, he was some constant-nagging redneck in season 1-2 but we love him

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Daryl Dixon taking care of traumatized reader—why can't everyone just go away? except you, you can stay. (cw(s): Daryl's trauma, talks of anxiety, ptsd, non-descriptive self-harm)

Yandere Daryl didn't think much of you at first. You're just another weaklin' that'll be gone in a few dawns. He shouldn't waste his time lookin' after people like that anyway.

You barely talked since he met ya. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone else in the group. You contribute, but it isn't much. Unlike him, you appear to be a sweet lil snack for the walkers: defenseless and skittish, a rabbit.

Still, like a leaf holdin' onto a sickly oak in a tornado, you stayed alive. From the quarry to the prison, you ambled along, not opening up to anyone. Well, maybe you opened up to him just a lil.

Yandere Daryl ends up being your safe place. He's someone who listens. He may not be good with feelings n' shit but he listens well. He lets you curl up next to him and tell him about anything. Sometimes it's nothing, and he appreciates that.

You both can sit in silence, and it's never awkward. It's like two kin souls meeting each other and simmering together.

Yandere Daryl grows closer to you. He doesn't want to think about it. He's always thinkin' about ya. There's always at least one eye on your figure.

He refuses to let you go on trips alone or without him. So naturally he gets somewhat aggressive when others talk down to ya. If someone raises their voice atcha, then he's ready to punch their teeth inward. He's proud of the sick and twisted thoughts that roll through his head of the things he wants to do to anything that threatens to hurt you.

He doesn't want to show you that side of him.

He's heard about your past and how the fall of the world affected you. He promised himself that he wouldn't ever be the reason you shut down or have a pstd flashback. He's workin' on being better than his mom and pop's relationship. Even the notion of possibly raising a hand against you makes his stomach churn, his head spin.

Yandere Daryl is always there to comfort you when something goes awry. He's still shitty at it, but he provides himself and hopes to whatever is out there, that's it's good enough. He tends to wrap one or both arms around you when you shut down/regress. He enjoys placing his chin over the top of your head and humming a sweet tune that he heard from the uppity church ladies that used to frequent his shitty neighborhood. 

He tries to say those nice things.

"Is alright."

"I'll protect ya."

"You're safe. The bad people can't hurt ya no more."

It helps heal his inner child as well. He gets to protect you, and it feels like he's protecting little Daryl Dixon as well. There's no screamin', hittin', broken booze bottles, or half-tapped-out cigarettes. There's only you and him. 

He'd murder anyone that got in the way of that, even Carol, even Rick.

He'll never admit it, but he likes it when you play with his hair, especially when you're stressed or overwhelmed. If you trace his scars, then he's in heaven.

Yandere Daryl always makes sure you have whatever health stuff you need. It could be meds, certain foods, prosthetics, or anything else. He'll do anything. He puts himself in the toughest situations just to make sure you are happy n' alive.

Have a medical condition? Meds are yours. He'll find substitutes if he can or learn medicinal remedies.

Allergies or food restrictions? No worries. He may be a shitty cook, but it's the end of the world. He's got plenty of time to practice so you can have a fully tummy and plenty of energy.

Hard of hearing or deaf? He learns sign language. He may be bad at it, but he'll learn! He doesn't mind repeating himself or repeating what others said for you. He'll do his best to find hearing aids or batteries if you used those before the world went to hell.

Partially or fully blind? He'll find you a cane or wittle you a walking stick. He'll be your guide.

Have a missing body part or limited mobility? He'll search high and low for a prosthetic. He'll carry you if he needs to. He'll help you in any way. He can't really find how practical wheelchairs are in the apocalypse, but he'll figure somethin' out.

Some other restriction or something rare he's never heard of? He'll go hell n' back to make sure you have whatever you need.

You just need space? Fine. He's still going to watch you from afar.

There are times when walker bites seem to pale in comparison to that innocently bright expression in your eyes. It's the look that he's always wanted to see from somebody. You look at him like he's some sort of protector, some hero. The first time he saw it, his initial reaction was to brush it off and call you stupid. He regretted that as soon as he saw you deflate and curl back within yourself. He mumbled a 'sorry' and made sure to never do it again.

Yandere Daryl almost breaks down the first time he notices your self-harming tendencies. It could be fresh cuts or starving yourself. It isn't good. He tries not to be harsh with you.

He tries.

It's just so hard because he's crying. He's trying to be quiet but he can't. He loves you so much that the thought of you not loving yourself makes him want to worship you until you do.

Why can't you see it? Why can't you see how special you are?

He wants to think you're selfish, but he knows you're not. It's your body. Is he being selfish? No. Yes? No.

He doesn't know.

All he knows is that he ends up on his knees with tears streaming down his face. He's begging. The words aren't intelligible, but he is.

This is what you do to him. This lil lamb just had to lay in his pasture.

Just stay alive. He'll do the rest for you.

Yandere Daryl just protects you. He hates groups but he knows they're important. You've made bonds, and so has he, unfortunately. He'll just keep you close. Maybe one day he'll be able to confess his undying reverence for you. Hopefully you won't figure out how many people he has killed for you. The things he has done... oh, they'd make the devil cry. As long as you sleep well at night knowing your Daryl Dixon is protectin' you. Well, he doesn't care about the so-called 'collateral damage' because of it.

[loggiepj]

lizzie

Summary: just an angsty one shot story 😂✌🏳️‍🌈

"TOM SAID she had been using Rooney to gain more credits to her work, always insisting to come along Rooney when she's in film productions, pretending she was only supporting her then girlfriend just so she could give her scripts to producers. And she did this while cheating on her behind her back."

You bit your lip to stop yourself from bursting into tears, hand on your chest, slipping to your collarbone then up to your neck as you willed yourself to breathe.

"That's awful," you heard Lizzie's beautiful voice slurring through the confines of the comfort room, through the door of the cubicle you were trapped in. "I can't believe she could do such a thing. She was so sweet and all, I thought . . . I thought—"

"Oh, we thought so too, Liz," another person chimed in, "but don't be easily fooled. I heard Rooney's lawyer will be filing a case against her sometime soon."

Your other hand went to embrace yourself, clutching against the side of your sweater as you might lose it.

"It was a risk on the producer's part to still include her in this film," said another, "knowing her reputation."

In the following silence, you could hear Elizabeth's sigh. "God, I wouldn't have known."

It was complete torture, having to listen through it all, having to witness how someone you had grown close to in the past few weeks could crush you down in an instant. Five minutes and thirty seven seconds, to be exact.

As if the gods above had acknowledged you had suffered enough, they eventually left the comfort room and began discussing about the next scenes as they walked through the door.

When you heard the door shut close, you broke down. The kind of cry where you seemed to be running out of air to breathe, as if you had been clawing your insides until there's nothing left. You didn't think it was possible to cry for someone like this. You felt like a kid, but you couldn't wail louder since anyone could just walk into the toilet.

The gossips you had endured during highschool, about you being gay, had nothing in comparison to what just happened. Especially the one who was involved was someone special to you. And it felt worse coming from her. To think that Lizzie would actually believe them, believe the rumors circulating about you. To think that she could be different from others. But you'd thought wrong.

It all started with Rooney. She was an actress you fell in love with when you got to work with her and Tom in Carol movie. You had been together with Rooney for almost six years. And yet for one simple action, a drunk crewmate kissing you on the lips inside the producer's room, mistaking you as his girlfriend, Rooney threw everything.

It was all one big misunderstanding. One night, you were just making love. The next, you weren't allowed to enter the penthouse you were both staying, considering Rooney owned that unit and you gave up yours when you moved in with her.

Her sister, Kate, the ever merciful one, contacted you afterwards the sudden eviction, saying that she would try to persuade Rooney to be at least forgiving to let you stay for the meantime while you were looking for another place to live.

But that didn't happen. After that incident, rumors of you cheating started to spread around in the industry, some were exaggerated to give that appeal. And no one trusted you anymore, that you would only use people to your own benefit.

If you weren't only friends with the director of the current film you were working with, you wouldn't have any project.

And then you met Elizabeth Olsen.

You can call me Lizzie, by the way, was what she said when the two of you first talked.

Lizzie had a very distinctive and elegant appearance. She had fair skin, light brown hair, and expressive eyes that were usually a striking green. She was almost an inch taller than you, but if she wore heels, you'd always look up to her whenever the two of you were talking.

You knew her from her massive role as Wanda Maximoff in Marvel Universe films, and you even used to idolize her as someone who's good in everything, no matter what genre the film she was in.

And you both just instantly clicked, like you were made for each other. You could talk to her for hours and hours through the production days, either before the filming would start, during breaks or at the end of the day. She would also share everything to you, with enthusiasm to your mutual interests, as if you were long-time friends. She looked at you without judgment, making you wonder if she knew about the rumors, the one thing that could destroy this newfound promising relationship. Knowing Lizzie wasn't into social media and stuff was what kept you asleep most nights.

You had even asked her to a date that weekend and you both enjoyed it to the fact that she almost invited you inside her nearby apartment when you gave her a ride home. There was this kind of feeling you feel whenever she was around, sometimes butterflies, sometimes longing.

But everything crumbled down when a newcomer saw the two of you flirting with each other.

YOU SPLASHED some cold water into your face as you prepared yourself to face the outside world, hoping it wasn't that obvious that you were just crying seconds ago.

When you went back to the studio to get some work done, you saw Lizzie on one corner practicing some lines with her co-star.

Maybe you were only overthinking it. Maybe she would see you through, talk to you about it, listen to your side of the story. But when you approached them, they only went silent.

"Hey," you greeted, trying to diminish any awkwardness.

"Hi Y/n," Lizzie replied with a smile, "we're just quickly rehearsing for the next scene."

"Oh, okay, sorry to bother you both," you said, "I'll just talk to you later then."

She only smiled back as she went back to her script. You would have just let it go if it weren't for the fact that she would always choose to talk to you.

LATER was no different as you went to knock against the door of her trailer upon hearing Lizzie's laughter inside. Abruptly, the laughters died, and you swore you could hear shushing. When her friend opened the door the second time you knocked, said friend only told you Lizzie wasn't in there even when you knew she was.

THROUGH the days that followed, it was slowly sinking in that maybe they got her too. That Lizzie believed them too.

You tried to give Lizzie the benefit of the doubt. That maybe she was only busy, knowing the most critical scenes were being shot. But you had probably sent her a lot of messages to which Lizzie had only replied words fewer and bland as compared to the older ones she had sent you.

WHEN you tried to approach Lizzie during one of the breaks, surprising her with your favorite cheesecake she said she liked, she thanked you rather hurriedly.

"Thanks, Y/n," she said. "You shouldn't have."

"It's fine," you said back, brushing her off as she tried to return the box to you. "I was in the area earlier when I passed by the store, and I remembered you wanting to eat another slice of it."

What was redness that you used to see adorned on Lizzie's cheeks, was inexistent as she hesitantly accepted the gift. You could tell she was sporting a smile you had seen her do whenever she was uncomfortable during interviews.

It gave you the kick to stop whatever this was you were doing. You then decided not to torture her anymore with how forward you were. It was clear she didn't want anything to do with you. That you were just mere friends in passing. That that date was only that. Nothing more.

"Lizzie!" someone called her from afar, apparently saving her from this awkward interaction. Saving you both.

"Shoot, sorry, Y/n," she said with an apologetic smile. "I have to leave, but thank you again for this. You're too sweet for this world."

You forced a huge smile her way. "Yeah, no worries. See you later."

BUT YOU had avoided her later. You had avoided them. And through the days that followed, you began distancing yourself from the cast and crew, knowing now what they had been talking behind your back. You just went to the studio to help work with the script then went back straight home. No more small talks in the hallway as you passed by them, occasionally wearing a hoodie over your face, wishing it was Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility.

At nights, you stared at the photos of the two of you together during production and even that one dinner date you had at a private restaurant, wondering how two individuals went from these to complete strangers.

You couldn't help but wonder if Lizzie has missed you at all. But when you glanced at her from a distance whenever you couldn't avoid not coming to the studio, laughing and making vlog with her co-stars and makeup artists, you could feel she was glad she dodged a bullet that was you. That she almost went out with someone like you, someone who couldn't be trusted.

You had even stopped eating your favorite cheesecake, knowing it would only remind you of her. Lesson learned. Never suggest your favorites to anyone.

THAT was when you started hanging out with Emma Watson, whom you had gotten closer as you were part of her writing crew in another film you were working for.

She had well defined cheekbones and chocolate brown eyes. But what stood out the most was her English accent. Sometimes, you just wanted to listen to her talk all day.

Emma already knew the rumors about you, and called them bullshit. Maybe it was the British in her, but she told you she didn't care about anyone's past other than first impressions. Besides, if she weren't a fan of your works, she wouldn't have given a chance to know you.

When she revealed to you she liked girls too, you grew more comfortable around her.

You also started to make friends with the other film's crew, and maybe that was what you needed, what you were missing. You no longer felt sad or lonely whenever you were around them. And having to fit two jobs in a day, it felt different having something to look forward to whenever you finished working for Lizzie's film. Good kind of different.

"WAIT, you're already leaving? Are you not going with us?" your director friend asked the moment he saw you packing things up, preparing to leave.

"What do you mean?"

"Liz invited the whole cast and crew for a housewarming party at her new house," he replied.

You had no idea but who were you to receive first invitation from her in the first place. You were a nobody.

"Oh I . . . I actually am needed to get this edit reviewed," you said, easily making up an excuse. Although technically, it wasn't a lie.

"That's a bummer. I was pretty sure Liz said to invite you too." He sighed. "Well, don't work yourself too hard, Y/n."

You only smiled back as you left, staying out of sight from others, keeping distance away from the lobby where you could see the whole cast chatting as they waited for the car service to get to Lizzie's house. And for a brief moment, you caught sight of the woman who once captured your heart, broke it and left to rot. Elizabeth looked so beautiful and fresh even after a day's production, and she was wearing that jacket she stole from you that very first day.

"HAVE you ever loved someone?"

You had been staring at your notifications, watching for what seemed like hours at Lizzie's messages asking where you were and why you weren't at her housewarming party.

You didn't even noticed Emma had asked you a question until she nudged your shoulder.

"Sorry, what?" you asked, slipping your phone into your pocket.

"I asked if you've ever loved someone? Any lovers? Girlfriends? Boyfriend? Flings?" she asked teasingly, "It's just I haven't seen you around with anyone."

"I mean, you've heard the rumors—"

"Fuck all the rumors, I'm not blind, Y/n," Emma interrupted. "You're actually gorgeous. It could cause a scandal."

Avoiding the girl's gaze, you laughed at her. "What are you suggesting?"

There was complete silence, making you look back at Emma deep in thoughts.

"What do you say about you becoming my girlfriend?"

"What?"

"It's just for PR stuff and all," she reasoned. "And for promoting this movie."

"Promoting? They'd hate you. They'd hate me more."

"At least, it would be a distraction from the public. I haven't actually come out as gay but I've provided signs, yet people just turn a blind eye. And this will help confirm my sexuality. If they hated me for dating the rumored you, they'd hate me less for being gay."

You fell silent as you thought about it.

"My PR manager will pay you, of course. You're saving up for a house, right? I want to help you."

Then she looked at her hands on her lap, nervous. "Besides, you're the only one I felt comfortable doing this with." She then glanced back at you. "So . . . Are you with me?"

WHEN you started going out with Emma publicly, the photos of you together holding hands in public immediately spread through the news and gossip channels. You started to become famous, more on the bad side though, of how you were only using Emma again for your selfish reasons and how stupid Emma was for dating you.

At least, there were only a few articles about how disappointed they were Emma turned out to be gay. People were more disappointed she was dating a parasite.

IT WAS almost a month after when you received a missed call from your ex girlfriend Rooney. And she had called you multiple times until you blocked her number. And when she figured out you blocked her, she sent you numerous emails.

Emma was with you as you anxiously worked through the next scene's script.

"You okay?" Emma asked, her hand on your shoulder made you jump on your seat. "Sorry."

"It's okay," you managed to reply.

"What are you worrying about?"

You hesitated, frown growing deeper. "It's just . . . I think my ex girlfriend will finally end my career."

"How?"

"She's going to file a case against me," you said, almost in tears.

"Is that what you think she's going to do?" She chuckled softly.

"What are you giggling about? It's not funny."

"Sorry," she went on still laughing, "but you have to see this."

Apparently, Rooney had posted a public apology addressed to you, clearing you out, redeeming your image, and admitting it was her jealousy that ended your relationship, that she was willing to destroy her career in exchange for yours. And that she wanted so badly to talk to you if you'd only let her.

It felt like a relief as you saw the ones who reposted the post, as you read the comments from people defending you and supporting you, that Emma was a better choice than Rooney. It felt like the weight of the world was taken off your shoulder.

Emma then wrapped her arms around you as you sobbed into her chest. And she only let you.

Some weeks later, Emma asked you out on a date. A real date, saying she was willing to try. Maybe it was Rooney's post that made her trust you. Maybe she was just scared. But you also wanted to try it with her.

Rooney eventually stopped contacting you. The damage has already been done. One day, you may be able to forgive her. But never to forget.

MAYBE the public apology was what made Lizzie finally approached you during the last few days in the production. She brought you a gift, the cheesecake that used to be your favorite. Now, you didn't like how too sweet it was, wanting nothing more than to savor Cornish pasty introduced by your girlfriend Emma.

"Hey, Y/n," she greeted. "I . . . I brought you this."

"Thank you, Lizzie," you said, accepting with haste.

There was awkward silence as she placed her hands inside the pockets of her jeans. "Last day, huh? You want to go for sushi later? My treat."

And maybe it really was the public post Rooney made that made her finally talk to you, as if she was still the same person she was the first time you met. And as if you were still interested in her as you were months ago.

"Sorry, I have to meet Em for dinner tonight," you said, smiling apologetically.

"It's fine, it's fine," she said, brushing you off with a forced chuckle. "So, it's true you two are dating, huh?"

You nodded, avoiding the brunette's gaze. "Yeah, it is."

"She doesn't know how lucky she is."

You paused, wondering why you were no longer feeling any butterflies in your stomach whenever she was around. "I'm the lucky one, actually. Goodnight, Elizabeth."

"G-Goodnight, Y/n."

Like you said, the damage was already done.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Forgetting

Carol Danvers x fem!reader Warnings: established relationship, long distance, fluffy times, explicit language, implied sex (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: It's been nearly a year since you've seen your girlfriend and almost two months since you've heard from her. And you're beginning to worry that she's forgotten about you. After all, the universe is a big place.

357 days. That’s how long it had been since you’d seen your girlfriend. You tried to think of yourself like a military spouse. After all, Carol did used to be in the Air Force. And she did travel to far-away, dangerous places to protect people, with very limited communication for long periods of time. It’s just that her dangerous locations were in other galaxies instead of other countries.

You were used to her being gone or, well, as used to it as you could be. The longer her absence went on, the more used to it you got, but somehow it also became harder. When she first set off on this mission, she’d been in your galaxy, so communications had come faster and with more regularity. Less space and time for them to travel through. But the farther away she got, the longer it took her messages to get to you. You were lucky if you got one email a month.

It wasn’t personal. You knew that. She was far away. Even with the best technology S.H.I.E.L.D. could provide to a civilian, her communication with you was still slow and limited. But, god, you missed her. You missed her laugh. You missed the warmth of her next to you in bed. You missed the way she propped her leg up when she sat down, no matter what kind of chair it was. You hung on every word of her emails, going over them so often you’d memorized them.

It had been two months since Carol’s last email. It was a long time to go without communication, even for her. The irrational part of your brain was desperately worried for her. There’s no telling what kind of high-risk situations she got herself into out there. But you knew that if anyone could handle themselves against all the forces of evil in the universe, it was Carol. You also knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. would have contacted you immediately had anything happened to her.

Another part of your brain–equally irrational but much harder to talk down–worried that Carol had forgotten you. The universe that Carol traversed was huge. Infinite, even. She saw things no one else had ever seen. Met people and experienced cultures that were so different from ours on Earth that we’d never even dream them up. Who’s to say she hadn’t found somewhere–someone–more beautiful than here, with you? She saw entire worlds, the neverending canvas of space and time. How could it possibly be that, of all the things in the known universe, you were the one worth coming home to? You always worried that maybe, this time, you weren’t.

As you climbed into bed, missing, as always, the feeling of Carol’s arms wrapped around you, the rise and fall of her chest as she slept, you once again pulled up her most recent email. From 61 days ago.

Hi, baby. I hope all’s well on Earth. I’m sad I’m missing spring–you know it’s my favorite season. Are there apricots on the tree yet? Or just buds? I’d give an arm for an apricot right now. I’m farther out than normal, so you might not hear from me for a while. One of the Andromedas. 2.7 lightyears away, if you can believe it. It scares me a little to be so far away from you.

I know I’ve said it before, but it gets lonely out here. Sometimes I wish you could come with me, but I know your body wouldn’t handle space-time travel like mine does. Superhero probs. Also, it’s probably not fair for me to make you put your entire life on pause just because I miss you like crazy.

It’s so beautiful out here in a weird, quiet way. I wish you could see it. Yesterday, I passed a pulsar. A star carcass, as I like to call them. They’re these gigantic masses of spinning light that put out radio signals (which might interfere with how quickly you get this, fuck pulsars). You’ve never seen something so big. So big it’s almost hard to believe it’s really there.

Anyway. I’m rambling. I miss you so much. I always miss you, but this time feels harder for some reason. I miss the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. I miss the way your hair sticks up in the morning. I miss kissing you. I miss doing more than kissing you. I just miss you.

I’m not sure when I’ll get home, but I think about you every day, every second. Nothing in this galaxy or the next or the next compares to you. Please stay safe. Don’t be sad. Snuggle Goose for me.

I love you.

Carol

You fell asleep reading through the email, again and again, your phone going dark in your hand beside you as you drifted off. You dreamed of pulsars. You dreamed of Carol.

Hours later, you jerked awake, gasping, as you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey!” a voice said, calming, reassuring. “It’s just me.”

You’d know that voice anywhere. “Carol!” you squealed, grabbing her and pulling her onto the bed with you, holding her as tight as possible so she could never, ever leave you for so long again. “You’re home!”

You felt her smile against you as she buried her face in your neck, wrapping her strong arms around you. She smelled metallic, almost like gunpowder; you knew it by now–the smell of space. “Hi, baby,” she whispered, breathing you in. “I missed you so much.”

Still holding you close, Carol sat up a bit to just look at you, just take you in. She ran her hand along your cheekbone and pressed a warm kiss to your mouth. A kiss you’d been so desperate for, you thought you might die from relief. Her lips tasted like space, too, the way metal smells after rain. So uniquely her. How many other people could say they knew the taste of space?

“Are you crying?!” Carol asked, alarmed, as she brushed a few tears from under your eyelids.

You sniffed and mumbled, “I thought maybe you forgot about me.”

Carol pulled you to her chest, running her fingers through your hair, lightly grazing her fingernails against your scalp. You shivered at the sensation.

“Oh, baby,” she breathed. “I could never forget about you.”

“But there’s so much out there.”

“Mmhm,” she said, kissing your nose. “And none of it’s as beautiful as you.”

When she moved to stand up, you grasped her hands. “No, no! Stay here and snuggle!”

She laughed, grinning from ear to ear, as she pushed your hair back from your face. “I have to shower, Y/N. I smell like an asteroid.”

You leapt out of bed to stand next to her, looping your arm and hand through hers and leaning against her shoulder. You couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough. You never wanted to let her go.

“Can I join you?” you asked, blushing a little. After all, it had been nearly a year.

Carol looked at you lovingly, smiling softly, a few of her own tears building. She squeezed your hand and dragged you after her into the bathroom. “God, yes.”

[limerence-17]

Staring- Rick Grimes

basically rick pulls u aside for a chat but you admit your feelings and he doesn’t expect that…not even a bit.

also guys weeeoooo this gif ok bye i’m shaking a bit now

warnings: 18+ not intended for minors. explicit sexual content, age gap.

*****

It wasn’t that you didn’t stare at Rick, because you did. Ever since you turned 22 the thoughts had become more precarious in your mind.

Maybe it was the way his voice husked watching him threat others to protect you and his family, or the way his hips swerved walking through Alexandria. His heavy breathing anytime the two of you fought, knowing it would always result in consolidation.

But it was the way his anger was due to his undying devotion to you that turned you on. You’d been lying to yourself by saying that it didn’t. Ever since you’d gotten to Alexandria it was practically all you could think about. His scratchy salt and pepper beard between your thighs.

Jesus, stop thinking.

It was no use.

Practically everyone had noticed your stolen stares. Rosita especially. She had a knack when it came to flirtation and she wasn’t afraid to call you out on it. Each time you’d stared at his down set eyes, followed by his lips, then his crotch but only for a split second.

It wasn’t until one particular night in Alexandria that you realized just how obvious your stares had become.

It’d been a quiet night, only the sounds of crickets and the stars above were out. It was calm, tranquil even. You’d been walking back to your house after spending the evening with Carol and Judith. It was one of the first nights in a long time when you hadn’t thought about Rick. Ever since your feelings had taken over.

It was then that you noticed a small light on in front of Rick’s house, and he’d been standing there. Staring at you with a stern look. His breathing was heavy and he looked relatively well…pissed off.

You tried to look down at your feet, shuffling them, looking anywhere but at his gaze. But his cold tone stopped you in your tracks.

“We need to talk.” Rick commanded, his voice low and husky.

You knew he was standing on the steps now, stepping closer towards you. It frightened you. The thought of you turning around only to meet his stern gaze.

Rick was loyal to all of you but when he was angry… Jesus he could be terrifying.

Slowly you turned, trying to look anywhere but him in eyes.

“About what-“

“Inside. Now.” Rick’s low voice boomed, placing one hand softly on your back as you guided you up the steps and into his house.

He guided you until you sat down on his couch. The silence was deafening and you noticed as he paced slightly, rubbing his temples as if he was piecing together his next words.

“Rick what is this ab-“

“N’uh you don’t talk. I do and you listen.” He said, pointing towards you, but still avoiding eye contact with you.

“If Rosita said something-“

This appeared to set Rick off. He stopped his pacing and glared at you, his head tilting and breathing increasing. He was wearing a blue button down which was tucked into his black jeans and belt. His curly hair a mess but god he smelt so good. So manly, so lustful. Those thoughts you thought you’d pushed down for the evening only crept back up.

“Rosita? Rosita? What the hell does this have to do with Rosita?” Rick said, his thoughts scrambling.

I furrowed my brows, now more confused than before.

“You tell me? You’re the one who just dragged me into your house all sheriff like. So you tell me Rick, what am I in for?” I said, now glaring at him.

“I think you know damn well what this is about,” Rick spat. I noticed as his gaze moved ever so quickly from my eyes to my cleavage.

Shit, did he have the same thoughts as I did?

“So you heard…”

“Yeah, I heard.” Rick declared, tilting his head growling as if this offended him.

“I didn’t think it was that obvious. It wasn’t supposed to be at least… it was just a stupid crush, nothing really I swear.”

Rick stopped, this time his expression softening.

“What?” He asked.

“What?”

Oh fuck.

“Someone told you about how I felt about you, right?”

Rick paused, collecting his thoughts. I swear I could’ve seen a small smirk.

“No.”

“I wanted to ask you about leaving your gun post last night,” He said, his voice a little shaky.

Oh my god.

“Right…. gun post….”

Rick smirked, a blush coming over me naturally. He tilted his head, scoffing slightly.

“But I also wouldn’t mind hearing about your feelings-“

“No! I mean- I just- I-“

Rick stepped closer, a wave of intimidation flood over me. There was something about his mannerisms, his stance that felt so threatening, even when it wasn’t.

“Cause if it’s feelings that you have for me, thoughts, whatever… I’d be lyin’ if I said I haven’t had them either.”

He was standing over me now, my eyes looking up directly at him. I must’ve looked so innocent, so scared, so fragile. How did this night come to this?

“Yeah… I think about you… I think about you all the damn time.” Rick groaned, his husky voice cracking slightly at my submissive glance.

“Well then…” I spoke out in practically a whisper. I didn’t know what to do, or how to act. This was only something I’d prepare for in my dreams. Not in reality.

“Get up.” Rick demanded.

I stood up, noticing as he walked closer towards me briskly, causing me to stumble slightly backwards until my back was pressed against the wall. I felt the wall behind me. There was no one for me to go. He was predatory, animalistic even with his movements. His heavy breathing and cold stare remaining on me. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t turning me on.

Rick leaned in closer, inhaling heavily as he tilted his head, his nose practically on my neck. Taking in every piece of me as if he’d wanted this for quite some time.

“Say the word and I’ll stop. I will stop.” Rick said, but it sounded more like a beg, as if he’d wanted this more than I have.

“Don’t stop,” I hushed.

Rick looked back at me, nodding with his eyes half closed, as if he was drunk on desire. With that, he grabbed the nape of my neck, pulling me in for a deep kiss. Passionately letting out slow groans and he begged his tongue for access into my mouth.

I granted his access, feeling the warm of his mouth against mine, his scratchy beard across my chin. But I didn’t care, this moment was pure heat, giving me both chills and warmth at the same time. I felt his lips move to my neck, as he placed slow kisses across my neck, slowly down to my neck. He took his time. God he took his time. I wanted nothing more than to let out a moan.

His hand traced across my hip, then to my waist. His fingers carefully played at my waist, placing his fingers into my shirt, drawing soft lines against my skin.

“N’yuh need more,” I let out between sloppy slow kisses.

Rick paused to look at me, nodding in approval as if he knew exactly what I wanted next.

“Get on the couch,” his low voice boomed.

I lay back into the couch, unsure of his next move. I’d only ever predicted what he’d do in my head but god, this was so much better.

He slowly crawled so that he was on top of me. Rick lifted my shirt up slightly, planting soft kisses on my stomach, then slowly moving up so that he kissed my chest. He motioned for me to take off my tank so I did. He softly grabbed my breast, looking up for approval and I nodded, so overwhelmed with the sensation.

He lapped his tongue slightly around my nipple, placing his whole mouth over, letting me give into the feeling. I noticed as his hand moved towards my cunt, although he couldn’t tell that I was already soaking only through my jeans. His rough hand moved slowly over me through my jeans, and I tightened my legs only for Rick to pull his mouth away and forcefully spread my legs open.

“No.” He husked.

“You don���t to get to be ashamed of yourself.”

Jesus, I couldn’t help but feel myself getting even more turned on.

Rick pulled teasingly at my zipper, slowly unzipping and I felt myself squirming in both excitement and nerves. He let out a low drawn laugh, smirking as he pulling my pants down, including my panties.

There I lay, exposed, nervous but he only paid attention to my lips once more, now on top of me, his knee between my thighs as he kissed me this time more gentle.

He pulled away, slowly tracing his way down between my legs. I shivered as I felt his fingers slowly brush against my slit, I noticed his expression twitch.

“Jesus girl, you really this wet just for me?” He smirked again, maintaining eye contact with me.

“Can’t help it, you do something to me.”

Rick tilted his head, laughing slightly. He positioned his head between my legs, looking up at me.

God your tongue, I need your tongue please.

“Gonna need you to use those words now,” Rick said, looking at me then back at my clit. It was as if he was just waiting for me to give him the green light.

“Please-“

“What was that? Gonna need you to speak up-“

“Need to feel your tongue…against me…” I grunted slowly, wanting to squirm but his legs were gripping my thighs so that there was nowhere for me to possibly go.

With that, I let out a short gasp as I felt his mouth suction against my clit. He was forceful, hungry even. The way I heard him let out grunts as he sloppily ate me out. Moving from my clit, to inserting his tongue in me. He looked up at me, grabbing onto my breast but not losing focus from my clit.

He was so starved, so submissive in this moment. I could hardly look at him I was so overcome with every nerve in my cunt that felt everything at this very moment. My hands moved from running my hand through my hair in desperation to his hair, which I eventually gripped with my two hands.

Rick pulled away for a moment, then asked me something I didn’t expect.

“You’re gonna touch yourself now.”

“I- what?”

“You trust me?” Rick asked, slowly coming up to kiss my neck again. I folded like a doll. I couldn’t help it with his raspy voice in my ear.

“Yes Rick,” I let out a slow moan as I started lazily lapping circles around my clit with my index and middle finger.

“That’s a good girl,” He said. Butterflies instantly.

I felt lost in translation as he kissed me slowly, me feeling his crotch against mine as I started to increase my tempo. From below me I let out a gasp between kisses as he inserted one finger, then two. He curved his fingers up. They were so rigid, so strong. He hit exactly the curve I needed.

“Thereee ya’ go,” Rick groaned out, his lips still in front of mine.

“I’m gonna make you cum now.”

Instantly he tempo increased, fingers moving in and out of me like he needed this. He desperately needed me to cum. I kept my rhythm going against my clit but god it was getting hard with Rick hitting my G spot every damn second. He was quick and hard.

“Take it girl, take my fingers I know you can. Jesus Christ,” Rick husked as he looked down for a slight moment, his gaze then focused back on me.

I couldn’t hold on much longer, I felt my orgasm pulsing and drawing in. Without instinct, I pulled my fingers away, gripping at his back under his shirt, scratching him harder down his back.

“Rick I’m gonna-“

“I know. Cum for me.”

It was all I needed to hear, I gasped, shaking slightly as I felt like everything fell into place until I crashed. Breathing heavily laying on my back.

Rick slowly pulled his fingers out, licking them in front of me. I shuddered at the sight, it consumed me.

“Still wanna talk about those feelings?”

[prplepeony]

Hii, can you something for Carol Danvers where she and female reader are soulmates, and Carol had to rescue reader from being held hostage (maybe something like the first time they make eye contact or physical touch they know theyre soulmates)? And also maybe fluff, or angst then fluff? Thank yoouuu :)

Bound By Starlight

Carol Danvers x Reader

Summary: Carol rescues you, her soulmate, from being held hostage. The moment they make eye contact, they both feel an undeniable connection.

Words: 1117

The room was dim, shadows clinging to every corner, and the air felt suffocating. You had been held hostage for what felt like an eternity, your hands bound tightly behind your back, the ropes digging into your wrists. The air was thick with tension and fear, but despite the terror of the situation, your mind kept drifting to the one thing that had sustained you throughout the ordeal—hope. Hope that someone would come for you.

As you sat in the cold, damp room, waiting for whatever fate lay ahead, you clung to the belief that you weren’t truly alone. You had always known, deep down, that there was someone out there for you—your soulmate. You could feel it, that invisible thread that connected you to another person. It was a sensation you couldn’t explain, but it had always been there, like a quiet hum in the back of your mind.

Now, in your darkest moment, that hum was stronger than ever, thrumming in your veins, urging you to hold on just a little longer.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of an explosion in the distance. The walls shook, dust raining down from the ceiling. Your heart leapt in your chest—was this it? Was someone finally coming?

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, heavy and purposeful. You held your breath, straining to hear, hoping, praying that it wasn’t one of your captors.

Then, the door was thrown open with a bang, and a figure stepped into the room, framed by the flickering light from the corridor. At first, you couldn’t make out much—just the outline of a woman, strong and powerful, her presence commanding the space.

But as she stepped closer, her face illuminated by the light, your breath caught in your throat.

Carol Danvers.

You had seen her on the news, heard the stories about Captain Marvel, the intergalactic hero who fought to protect Earth and the galaxy beyond. But seeing her now, in person, was different. Her presence was magnetic, her strength palpable, but there was something else—something that made your heart skip a beat.

Your eyes met, and in that split second, everything changed.

The world seemed to stop, the air between you crackling with an energy you had never felt before. It was as if time itself slowed down, and in that moment, you knew. You knew.

Carol’s eyes widened, and you saw the exact moment she felt it too—that undeniable connection, that pull. Her lips parted slightly in surprise, her expression shifting from determination to something softer, something filled with wonder.

Neither of you moved for a heartbeat, both frozen in the intensity of the moment. Then, without a word, Carol crossed the room in a few swift strides, her hand reaching out to touch you.

The moment her fingers brushed against your skin, it was like lightning coursing through your body. A warmth spread through you, chasing away the fear, the pain, the cold. Her touch was grounding, electrifying, and you knew, without a doubt, that she was your soulmate.

Carol’s hand lingered on your arm for a moment before she pulled out a knife and quickly cut through the ropes binding your wrists. You winced as the circulation returned to your hands, but the pain was quickly forgotten when Carol gently took your hands in hers, inspecting the marks the ropes had left behind.

Her touch was tender, her thumb brushing softly over your skin, and when she looked up at you, her eyes were filled with something you had never expected to see—concern, care, and a fierce protectiveness.

“I’m getting you out of here,” she said softly, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “You’re safe now.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to respond. Your heart was still racing, not just from the danger, but from the overwhelming sensation of being near her, of knowing what she meant to you.

As Carol helped you to your feet, you felt the weight of the situation settle over you. You were still in danger, still in the middle of a rescue mission, but with Carol by your side, everything felt different. Safer. Like you were finally where you were meant to be.

She led you out of the room, her hand never leaving yours as the two of you navigated the dark, winding hallways. The sounds of battle echoed around you, but Carol kept you close, her body tense and ready for anything. You could feel the energy radiating off of her, the barely-contained power that she wielded with such control.

It wasn’t long before the two of you emerged into the open air, the cool breeze washing over your face. Carol quickly guided you toward a waiting Quinjet, where the rest of the Avengers stood, ready to help.

As you climbed aboard, your legs trembling from exhaustion and adrenaline, Carol turned to you, her eyes searching yours. There was a question there, unspoken but clear.

You nodded, giving her a small, shaky smile. “I’m okay,” you assured her, though your voice was still unsteady.

Carol hesitated for a moment, then cupped your face gently in her hands, her touch grounding you once again. “I’ll never let anything happen to you,” she promised, her voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. “Not ever.”

Your breath hitched at the weight of her words, at the sheer sincerity behind them. This woman—this incredible, powerful woman—was your soulmate. And she had just saved your life.

The flight back to the compound was quiet, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable silence of before. Instead, it was filled with a newfound understanding, a connection that neither of you needed to put into words. Carol sat beside you, her hand resting on your knee, a constant reminder that she was there, that she wasn’t going anywhere.

When the Quinjet landed, Carol escorted you inside, her hand never leaving yours. You felt the weight of her presence beside you, her strength, her calm assurance. It was like you were finally whole, the missing piece of your soul fitting perfectly into place now that you had found her.

Once inside, Carol led you to a quiet room, away from the chaos and noise of the compound. She sat beside you on the couch, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I didn’t expect this,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

You smiled, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I’m glad it’s you too.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. Then, with a soft sigh, Carol wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

You rested your head against her, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest, the quiet hum of her energy surrounding you. You were safe now, and you knew that no matter what happened next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

Because you had her. Your soulmate.

And she would always protect you.

[sushiwriterhere]

in a heartbeat

summary: "Maybe he just didn’t need the fanfare, maybe he needed to ditch the plans and just hand the rock to you over Chinese takeout and let that be it."  rating: explicit (no minors!) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 3.9k warnings: very fluffy, PiV (unprotected), no use of y/n.  notes: this is my first fic in a while and im fighting writers block something awful. this is not proofread :( pls lmk what you think <3! my other works are here part of the coming home to you universe

four days before.

“I’m gonna go out for drinks with the girls Saturday.”

“Uhhh, you can’t.”

Did he need to loop your coworkers into the proposal plan too? Phoenix having dragged it out of him so they could all help was bad enough. Bradley could feel his headache building behind his eyes. He tried to avert eye contact to make the conversation feel natural, instead focusing his gaze on the onion he was trying to caramelize. 

“I can’t?”

Bradley’s never been controlling, never tried to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with, and certainly never with that particular tone in his voice. He heard the mail you were inspecting drop onto the granite countertop as you turned your full attention on him.

“Why?”

Fuck.

He could hear the way your eyes were narrowed from the uncharacteristically steady tone of your voice, the way one eyebrow was raised expectantly. 

In the back of his mind, Bradley also saw the picnic blanket, candles, and bottle of your favorite wine stashed at Mav’s. There were the flowers he had to pick up and arrange on Friday while you were working, the homemade meal Javy promised him that he needed to grab on Saturday around midday. 

“I made dinner reservations at this new place down by the beach, and the only time they had was Saturday evening.”

“And you forgot to tell me until now?”

Bradley didn’t forget. Not about these types of things. Ever since your first date, Bradley had been nothing but proactive. He planned dates, cooked meals, doted on you. Forgetting just wasn’t like him. 

“Made the reservation this morning and you seemed busy.” He finally met your eyes and he watched as your gaze softened and you turned back to the stack of mail.

“Bradley Bradshaw you are a sap.”

And the moment passed. 

You and Bradley had talked about marriage, you have. You’d talked about it enough for him to know what kind of ring you wanted, that you wanted a small, intimate ceremony, and that you’d lost more than enough sleep over whether to invite your parents. You’d talked enough to know Bradley would probably have the Dagger Squad as best men (people?) and that he’d let Phoenix be part of your bridal party if you wanted, that he wanted Mav right there next to him, and that there would be an empty chair for Goose and Carole. That was one thing. 

Getting down on one knee and actually going over that line? That was another. 

The rational part of his brain had always insisted that you would say yes, that you also knew from very early on, if not the beginning. The unhelpful part of his brain kept telling him the ring was the wrong size or that a seagull would swoop down and steal the shiny thing right from his fingertips before you could even say no.

three days before.

Bradley’s checked the ring at least six times since he, Javy, and the other guys came into the shop. The sound of the velvet clicking back against itself then sliding open again was starting to grate on his nerves, but he wanted to give Bradley the benefit of the doubt. He remembered what it was like, that lump in your throat, the way his brain tended to keep him up about every disagreement, every time he should’ve apologized instead of stewing on his anger. 

Javy, instead, choose peace. He watched calmly as Bradley opened the box again, and brought a finger up to trace the gems before deciding against it.

Doesn’t want to smudge it.

There was clearly something on his mind, because the ring had been paid for months ago and the re-sizing and adjustments were included in the price. But there Bradley was, stuck to the shop floor, looking like he was trying to decide between getting sick right there and maybe saving it for the trees outside the shop’s doors.

“What’cha thinkin’ about there, Rooster?” Jake sidled up to Bradley’s side, voice a low murmur, as if trying not to startle the man. 

Regardless, Bradley jumped slightly, jostling the open box and the sound of the box snapping shut echoed harshly around the showroom. Bradley looked like he might’ve decided on getting sick inside. 

“Should I get a second one? What if she doesn’t like this one?” 

Across the room, a sales associate perked up just slightly, clearly looking to score on another guy so nervous he looked like a ghost. Vultures.

“Bradley, my man, we’ve been over this a thousand times. Phoenix got her Pinterest, it’s all a certain style, and it’s definitely the perfect ring.” 

Jake and Bradley had begun to get along, rather begrudgingly at first, then very amicably, after the mission and Jake saved Bradley’s life. Seeing him comfort Bradley was something else though, Javy acknowledged. It was kind of nice to have that tension dissipate from within their team.

“But what if I need another perfect one?” 

“Are you gonna propose to her twice?” Bob had popped up on Bradley’s other side, silent as ever. “Usually there’s a second one for the wedding, but I’m here for a bit of a new tradition.”

At that, Bradley deflated a bit. The box in his hands clicked open, then shut again.

“No, no new tradition.” He murmured, before slipping the box into his pocket.

two days before.

Bradley knew Mav loved him, but he wasn’t sure how much he would after this whole ordeal. They must’ve run over the schedule at least a thousand times, forward and backward, even while flying over their comms. At this point, Bradley was sure he had the entire Dagger Squad reciting the plan in their sleep. He hoped he at least wasn’t, he didn’t need you to be clued into anything. 

“Nothing has moved since the last time you were here. Go home, Bradley.” Mav’s voice carried through the house as Bradley unceremoniously burst through the door. 

He’d started leaving work fifteen minutes early last week, just to double check that everything was in its place, that nothing had broken or spontaneously combusted. It was just enough time for him to stop at Mav’s place on the way home, do his round, and make it home around the same time as usual so as not to rouse suspicion. 

“I’m just–”

“Just checking yeah, get outta my house Bradley and go be with your fiance.” Mav had rounded the corner into his back room, all bathed in sunlight and a picture-perfect reminder of why people loved living in California. 

He was the picture of relaxed domesticity, dish towel over his shoulder, spatula in one hand that he was clearly thinking about hitting Bradley with as he paced the room and ticked things off on his fingers as he murmured to himself. 

“You’re gonna wear a hole in my carpet, and I happen to really like that rug.” Bradley stopped walking but the way his fingers twitched at his sides clued Mav into the way he was clearly still running through the run of show in his mind. 

“She’s not my fiance yet.”

“And she never will be if I murder you for breaking into my house and giving my wife a heart attack.”

“Penny’s not even home at this hour.” 

Mav had never seen Bradley like this. He’d missed graduations and recitals and all the shit you don’t get to see as an estranged god-father, but he’d done enough wondering about what he was like in those moments to have come up with this scenario. Bradley truly was the perfect mix of Goose and Carole–all Goose’s easy romantic energy, ever creative, ever attentive, and just as much of Carole’s eye for detail and desire for things to go right. 

“Bradley.”

Mav watched as the fight eased out of Bradley’s shoulders and his hands relaxed at his sides, “Right. Sorry.”

“Look son, you don’t have to be sorry for wanting this to go right. And you’ve only got a little of sorry to be about starting to drive me insane.” At that, Bradley cracked half a smile and Mav considered that a small success. “You like this at home?”

A sharp laugh echoed around the wood-paneled room, “Oh absolutely not. She’d know in a heartbeat.”

“Well, then you have your answer.” The gears were turning at a million miles an hour as Bradley tried to decipher what he meant. “She knows you in a heartbeat, which means she knows how she feels about you. And we both know what that means for Saturday.”

Bradley nodded, the picture of relaxation and ease all at once. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

one day before.

Bradley was starting to think the gash on his finger was some sort of awful omen, something terrible that had been awaiting to reveal itself until the last moment. He’d arranged flowers for you probably a million times at this point, had even done it blindfolded (only cheating a bit so he didn’t lose a finger) just to amuse you. Now, as he stared at the blood bubbing up from his middle left finger where he’d just stabbed himself with the scissors, the entire thing felt like some sort of cosmic joke.

He’d never doubted that he wanted to marry you, not even when you’d argued or insisted on shoving your ice cold fingers and toes up against him in the dead of night. Not once had he wavered since that initial thought in his brain, and he was even more sure when he went to open that fucking bank account that he’d been diligently adding a sizeable portion of his paycheck to. (What? He wanted to be sure he could afford exactly what you wanted, DeBeers advertising campaign be damned.)

Maybe he just didn’t need the fanfare, maybe he needed to ditch the plans and just hand the rock to you over Chinese takeout and let that be it. 

The only thing keeping him going despite all his nerves, aside from his deep love for you, was the way you’d once leaned against him when the two of you were spending a week away in the mountains. Overlooking something that felt like it was right from a postcard, you’d told him exactly how all the little romantic things he did made you feel. 

“Every time you buy me flowers, I get this little feeling in my chest, like something curling around my heart.” Bradley remembered keeping himself from making a joke, something about heart attacks, trying not to break the moment as the fog hung low over the trees. 

“From the moment you picked me up for our first date and insisted on opening the car door, bringing me flowers, they all make me get that little squirmy feeling that no one’s ever given me before.” You had pressed yourself to his side but not met his eyes, as if your confession was too powerful, too heavy to make when looking at him, “And some of it’s because I’m a sap at heart and you somehow know what I want before I do, but some of it’s just because it’s you Bradley. Always has been, always will be.”

The words said next would keep him going in his darkest moments, kept him together on long deployments, kept him pushing through every moment of doubt in the planning process.

“So if you ever decide to propose to me, even if it’s just you asking me over coffee, just know I’ll get that feeling, just because it’s you.” 

At that, you’d turned to face him, shifting so you could hook your chin over his shoulder where he turned his face to yours. He could see every lash, every spot on your face that he loved to press his lips to when you were too sleepy to protest. You’d graced him with a tiny smile, somehow just a bit melancholy, but all too loving. 

Bradley shook his head, clearing the memory as he scrambled to keep his blood from spattering on the countertop. He was going to have to grit his teeth through the pain of using a liquid bandaid so the pictures weren’t ruined by a regular bandaid. 

You’d compromised on drinks being Friday, so he had the evening to himself. All the time in the world for flowers, for a barbecue at Javy’s (home cooked meal to be picked up that night instead of Saturday morning), and for waiting up for you to text that you were ready to go home. 

the day of.

Bradley thought he’d be blinded by panic, or doubt, now that he was counting down hours and minutes in place of days or weeks. Instead, all he felt was a sense of serenity, almost like he was floating through the motions. 

The day started like every Saturday he’d had since you moved in and he’d been granted a relatively permanent station at Top Gun with Mav and the rest–you pressed up against him, your hair tickling some part of his bare skin, and the type of bone deep satisfaction with life that came with going to bed with a full belly and the love of his life at his side. He stared up at the ceiling fan as it made its lazy rotations and thought about how today was marking the difference between two parts of his life. 

After today, there would always be a time before the proposal, and after. 

The morning was lazy as you insisted you didn’t have a hangover but let Bradley cook you a plate full of turkey bacon, gently scrambled eggs, and a few hashbrowns. He knew you would be fine by afternoon, and after that excited to hang out at the beach before dinner. 

He was sort of counting on it. 

Apparently he’d underestimated your ability to bounce back because the way you draped yourself across his bare back was a little less than innocent as your hands smoothed over his shoulders and down his stomach. He slowed the way he was chewing the last of his hashbrown as you pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot under his ear. 

“Good morning, Bradley,” You crooned lowly.

“Mornin’.” 

His stomach jumped as you ran a nail over one of his nipples, and kissed at his shoulder. Tilting his head to the side to give you more room to work with, he took a slow drink of his water. 

Maybe he wanted you to work for it just a little, what with how badly he’d been stressing these last few weeks. 

And work for it you did. The light drag of your nails just barely there on his stomach and arms had him getting hard faster than he thought was humanly possible. But there was just something about the warmth of your chest at his back, the thinness of some shirt you’d stolen from him doing little to hide the swell of your breasts, that did it for him. Hell, it was really just that it was you that got him going. 

“I missed you last night.” You whined, just a bit, as he finally turned around on the barstool and gathered you into his lap. 

You could definitely feel the way he was hard against the soft give of your thighs, but somehow in that moment, all he wanted was you near. Sensing that somehow the moment had maybe passed, you curled in his lap and stretched your arms around his shoulders, apparently just content to be touching him.

“I missed you too.”

The way your lips met his was almost as natural as breathing, and then the moment wasn’t so innocent anymore. Your lips slotted against his as you kneaded at his arm muscles and part of Bradley was incredibly satisfied that you were enjoying just how much effort he put in at the gym. Sure, he had to be fit for his physical, but how hard he went on his biceps and shoulders was purely for your benefit. 

When the two of you finally stumbled back into the bedroom, Bradley thought he might pass out from how hard he was. Everything about you was amplified somehow. Your skin was softer and the gentle scent of whatever perfume you’d worn last night filled his nose. The give of your hips and thighs was easier and all he wanted was to sink his teeth into you and never let go. You might even let him.

Sprawled underneath him you looked like a goddess, bathed in the rising morning sun, nipples gently peaked as your chest rose and fell. 

“I love you.” 

It was so tender in comparison to the way you sat up and worked a hand inside Bradley’s boxers to grab firmly at his cock. He groaned as you shoved at the little clothing the two of you were wearing and in a moment, your skin was a beautiful contrast to the crisp white of the sheets. 

Bradley made to go down on you but you kept his face in your hands, “Been ready to go since I watched you scramble those eggs.”

He couldn’t hold back the way he barked out a laugh, that one was new. “The way the white and yolk were combined really do it for you?”

You smacked at his chest indignantly as he propped one of your thighs over the crook of his elbow, “Your back and arms look nice when you whisk, you asshole.”

You weren’t so huffy as he slid into you, gentle as ever. Bradley knew he wasn’t the biggest ever, but he also knew he wasn’t anything to scoff at either. He kissed away any discomfort he could see on your features til you rocked your hips up against his insistently.

“Give it to me like you mean it, babe,” Grinning all cheerfully, Bradley cursed under his breath as he felt you bear down on him.

After that, there was little to be said beyond whispers of I love you and the occasional swear word. Sometimes sex between the two of you was raunchy and heated, and other times it rounded out his Saturday mornings in a way that left him sated like nothing else. Sometimes he thought it might be better than flying. 

You came first, digging your nails into his shoulders and breathing his name in repeat. The feeling of you squeezing around him did little to keep him from coming and besides, the way you scraped your nails down his chest and begged him to let go definitely did him in. 

Clean up was quiet kisses and gentle shoves in the direction of the en-suite bathroom, Bradley making sure the water wasn’t too cold for you as you peed. (It was the little things.)

-

Fuck what Bradley had thought earlier about being serene, he thought he was going to crawl out of his skin. Holding your hand as the two of you made your way down the beachfront towards the space behind the Hard Deck, you were chattering on about some coworker’s baby shower and Bradley was focusing way too hard on not absolutely eating shit with the way the sand was shifting under his feet. 

In the distance, he could see the candles and the picnic blanket like a homing beacon. He couldn’t see Mav or Javy or anyone else, but he knew they were all hiding somewhere, ready to burst from the shadows in excitement. Harvard was also brandishing a camera even though Bradley couldn’t see any hint that he was around–turns out he was a more-than-amatuer photographer and had volunteered to capture the moment. 

“Bradley, what’s all this?” Your voice reached a winded sort of pitch as the two of you finally reached the set up.

It was perfect, and part of Bradley finally exhaled. The picnic blanket from your fourth date, the little tea candles doting the beach, and the bouquet of flowers resting at the corner of the blanket, right within Bradley’s reach.

Gently dropping your hand, Bradley picked up the flowers and pressed them into your hands. By now, you’d clearly caught on that something was happening because your eyes were wide and slightly teary, and there was a ghost of a wobble in your lower lip. 

Tan suit be damned, Bradley dropped to one knee and pulled out the velvet box that had been burning a hole in his pocket since before the two of you had gone out to dinner. (The dinner reservation had actually been real, to his credit.)

“Oh my god,” you whispered, bringing a hand to your mouth in a way that betrayed the way your hands were shaking. 

Bradley inhaled deeply, before popping open the lid of the box and letting his eyes flick down to where the ring was sitting, nestled right where it was supposed to be.

As if unable to stop yourself, you opened your mouth and blurted, “If you’re about to ask me what I think you are, the answer is yes. A thousand times yes.” 

Blinking up at you, Bradley didn’t move a muscle as you kept going, “Oh my god wait you probably have a whole speech, I’m so sorry, I’ll shut up now.”

Distantly, Bradley heard a shutter clicking but neither of you broke eye contact as his face broke into a huge smile. He kept going according to his plan, the unspoken understanding passing between the two of you that you’d never live that down.

He said your first name like a prayer, before launching into the speech he’d rehearsed for months now, “I have loved you since I met you. I love every part of you–your laugh, the way you’re passionate about your work, the way you love everyone around you with such intensity. I love you when we argue, I love you when we’re together and apart. You consume my every waking thought, and grace me with your presence when I dream. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. I want to bicker about how we go through junk mail, the right way to parallel park, and what show we’re going to watch on Thursdays for however long you’ll let me. I want you by my side for the good, the bad, in sickness, and in health.” He said your name again, before asking the question he already knew the answer to, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, oh my god yes.” 

Miraculously, Bradley slipped the ring on your finger without incident, then gathered you up into his arms and pressed your lips together. His cheeks were wet with your tears. 

“I love you so much, Bradley Bradshaw, you are my everything,” You choked out when he set you down unable to stop yourself from sticking your hand out in front of you and crying harder when you saw the ring of your dreams adorning your hand. 

“I can’t believe you said yes before I asked,” He breathed before pulling you into him to kiss you fiercely one more time.

-

“She said yes before I even opened my mouth,” Bradley chuckled as you giggled by his side, hands never leaving the new ring on your finger.

“That’s not nearly as bad as you were for the last three months,” Javy crowed, and the crowd was in uproar as Bradley attempted to defend himself. 

Above all the noise and the lighthearted teasing, Bradley knew one thing–he was happy. And you had said yes.

----

tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @bradshawburner @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @joaquinwhorres @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @bradshawsbitch @seresinsweetie @notroosterbradshaw @kmc1989 @peachystenbrough @rhettabbotts @theharddeck @wkndwlff @waklman @blue-aconite @thedroneranger @bibitches-r-us @sunlightmurdock @laracrofted @jupitercomet - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are luv <r bradley. pls lmk if you'd like to be added/removed

[observeowl]

Unwanted Marriage | Chapter 4 - Going above and beyond

Series Masterlist

"Thanks to you guys, the bonus for this month, was give to us, Team 2 instead of Team 1. This time round, people from Team 1 won't have anything to mock us about." Millicent said as she brought us to the meeting room where Mr Stark called for a meeting.

You just hoped that this won't be a reason for you to be picked on. Once you entered, you could see Sharon's scowl on her face accompanied by her two companions. "Mr Stark, Team 2's news were too exaggerated isn't it?" One of them said. "Yes, even though the magazine press gained quite a number of attention, but we also gained a number of negative responses." Another added.

"But we can't just be beaten for no reason!" Wanda said. "Ok, ok, calm down. This incident has its pros and cons, let bygones be bygones." Mr Stark got everyone's attention at the head of the table. "Now we have 2 very important and difficult interviews coming up. They are very influential businessmen, we must take it on. The two groups will be responsible for one interview each. Team 1 will interview Carol Danvers. Wanda, I heard you are a fan of Natasha Romanoff so Team 2 shall be in charge of interviewing her."

Natasha... what were the chances that you were actually assigned to interview her.

"Natasha Romanoff? Isn't she the boss of Romanoff Corporation?" // "I have heard that Carol Danvers doesn't accept most of the interviews..."

"Then, what should we do, Sharon...?"

With the dismissal of the meeting, you and Wanda start planning how you were going approach Natasha to get a meeting. You weren't too sure about their history in terms of getting interviews and asked Wanda about it. "Carol has never accepted any interviews. Natasha was alright in the past, but ever since she got into an accident, she never accepted any interviews again. We tried to contact him previously, and did not even went past his assistant."

You nodded at her explanation and wondered what happened in that accident. "So, Natasha is your idol?"

"Natasha Romanoff used to be everyone's dream in the city, man or woman. It's a pity she got into an accident." Her eyes sparkled as she talked about her idol.

"I know it's not an easy task, but we must do our best for the sake of Team 2's reputation and pride." Millicent encouraged as she gave you all a brief guide on where to begin. "Just the thought of meeting my idol, makes me so nervous! Even though we might be able to meet!" Wanda was shaking wth excitement and it's not often that she feels so happy for an assignment. "I heard that she have gotten married, but has kept it a secret from the public. I wonder who would be so lucky to be her partner!" She gossiped with you and you replied with an awkward smile. not knowing that you were the one.

Once you reached home, you spotted Clint coming out of his room and you whispered to his name to get his attention. "Clint! Psps, over here." You waved for him to come closer. "Did you just 'psps' at me?"

"Doesn't matter. Does Natasha not accept any interview at all?" You asked. "Y/N, you can ask her in person." You averted your eye and replied. "I got no intention at all, just asking."

"What are the two of you doing?" You didn't even realised you were standing right in front of her room and got a shock when she opened the door. "Y/N was asking me about interviewing you." You couldn't believe you were betrayed straightaway.

"Well, alright, I'll get this straight." You resigned to your fate. "Ms Romanoff... Our magazine would like to invite you to do an interview, I do no know if you would like to... come..." You tried your best to put on a professional smile, but all Natasha could see was you trying your best not to break into a sweat. After not receiving a reply, you thought all was going down and there was no way she would agree to it.

"What interview?"

"Are you interested?" You squatted down next to her at her armrest and continued. "The magazine became famous because of Sherry, so I would like to take this opportunity to get an interview with a few influential people. It's okay if you're not wiling to." You reinforced that she didn't have to do anything she wasn't comfortable in doing. "On what terms?" She asked. "Eh? You've got everything you want, what else do you want? And our company-"

"I want you."

"What, what are you talking about?"

"I say, I want you to treat me to dinner. What are you thinking?" You gave an awkward half laugh and sigh. "I promise you! I will arrange for the interview."

"Really? Natasha Romanoff, you're the best. Let me go and see what Brooke is cooking, I will bring up for you." That was the first time Natasha has seen you smile so brightly and freely, like the best painting she has ever seen.

You were thinking if you should tell Wanda about this when Brooke told you that someone called you using the home landline. You wondered who would have the number as you brought the phone to your ears.

S: Y/N, you went too far! Are you the one behind what happened to Sherry? Do you know you just wrecked the future of a good singer? How could you do this?

You: This happened because Sherry wanted to help Maggie get back at me. If she didn't refuse to let me go, it won't end up like this.

S: She knows that she's wrong, you can retreat the news. Let's just forget about this.

You: Now this have already gone too far. Neither you nor I could settle it down. Also, you don't have to seek up to me so frequently. Marcus and Y/L/N's industry is all yours, I have no interest in it, so what you do keep bothering me?

S: Y/N! What nonsense are you talking about? I just couldn't bear it so I wanted to help them!

You: You are clear about your thought. This is what they deserve to have.

S: Y/N Y/L/N, don't you feel guilty?

You: I'm sorry, not even a bit.

You rebutted and hung up the phone. "Brooke, if this person calls in the future, please hang up. Don't need to get me to answer." You said as you returned her the phone.

Back with Stephanie, she was making a mess in the living room. "Miss, please calm down, you already smashed many of Mr Y/L/N's antique!"

"Go away! All of you, get out!" She threw a pillow and it end up hitting on Marcus's chest. "Steph, why are you so upset?"

"Marcus! Y/N is pissing me off. You got to help me!"

"Enough, Steph! I've already told you Maggie is just using you, she never treated you as a friend."

"Marcus, what are you talking about?"

"Steph, I am exhausted from the corporation with the Y/L/N's. Can you please not bother me anymore?" In her mind, Y/N was still a threat to her.

"Dad, look what Y/N did. Because of our family, I gave Natasha to her, but she didn't help the company and didn't even come back home to see you." She complained and whined like a child would. "Dad, this is too much!" He shook his head, saying he will think of something for it.

In the end, he made a call to you feigning illness, using your sympathy to get you to visit him.

The next day, you visited your father with Natasha and he seems to be very happy that she was here. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me that Natasha is coming along?"

"I heard from Y/N that you're not feeling well, Y/N has been very worried so I decided to come with her. But you don't look like you're sick." She has no problem saying what she thinks even if it hurts the other's feeling.

"Natasha, my dad had high fever the whole day yesterday, he has just gotten better today." Stephanie came to assist her father. "He heard Y/N is back, so he came down to fetch her, but actually he is still weak."

"Y/N, come with me, I have something for you." You followed him to his room where he took something out from his drawer. "It is my fault to let you marry to Romanoff. I did not requie you to do anything else before. But don't forget the reason why you married into Romanoff family, I have done this for Y/L/N, the Y/L/N's family! If your mother was still here, she would also have agreed. Just because of you, Stephanie gave up the marriage and accepted Marcus so that you could marry Natasha Romanoff, don't make her sad okay?" You fault hard to not roll you eyes in front of him. "Your mother left this to you. She said this would be your dowry when you get married." He handed you a jade ring you have never seen before. "That time we were so poor, so you rmum only have this favourite ring."

Despite what had happened between the rest of your family, you had fond memories of your mother before she passed. "I understand... dad."

You met Marcus along the hallway and he was trying to act like a victim and a saviour to you at the same time. But you were no longer the lovesick puppy who foolishly loved him and does everything he says. He tried to hold you back and hopes to make things anew but you weren't going to let him.

"What's wrong?" Natasha came along when she heard the commotion. "Natasha?" Despite being on a wheelchair, she must have a great upper body strength as she managed to pull you onto her lap. "Tell me, is anyone bothering you again?" You shook your head before standing up.

"If Mr Y/L/N is good, pardon us to leave first."

"Dad, Natasha is not used to eating out, we will be heading home first."

"Oh, alright then."

"There is something I forgot to say, that idol was banned by me. For saying what shouldn't have been said, and doing what shouldn't have been done. You understand what I mean right, Stephanie?" Despite not saying anything for a long time, Natasha recognised every presence in the room. "That video you recorded last time, don't let me see it again."

===

You went to work once the weekend was over and Wanda greeted you with a bad news. "I heard that Sharon has some relationships with Romanoff Corporation, and they changed our interview, so we are interviewing Carol instead!"

"Actually interviewing Carol is not bad, compared to Natasha Romanoff's eccentric character, it's better to interview Carol." Millicent said. Your preparation for the interview with Natasha turned out to be in vained and Wanda missed out on her chance to meet her idol. "You two go get ready for the interview, I'll contact the person. Remember, don't mind what others say, we just need to do our job properly."

Back at the table, Wanda was still complaining how she should have fought more in order to get the interview, but you had already changed your goal and planned to contact Carol's assistant first.

"Hello? Is this the assistant of Carol Danvers? We are from Stark News and we would like to invite her for an interview."

"Sorry, Miss Danvers is not available recently." She said and hung up the phone immediately, leaving you to hear the beeping sound of the phone.

Wanda was getting unmovivated as Team 1 has already made an appointment with Natasha Romanoff for interview. You were also getting frustrated not getting any progress with your assignment. But Wanda tapped your shoulder when he noticed a handsome man waiting by the door.

"What are you doing here, Marcus?" You said when you brought him to a secluded place away from prying eyes. 

"I passed by and decided to come up and say hi." You chuckled. In the three years you were with him, never once did he thought of visiting you when you worked close to where he did. He was still harping on the case about Sherry and talking bad about Roamanoff. Thing were getting risky when he trapped you between his arms,

"Enough, let go of me. I am already married, brother-in-law, please behave!" You pushed him away. Stephanie came in at the wrong time and accused Marcus of being hanky panky with her. She even pulled you in saying that you were happy now that Sherry is blocked.

"Stephanie! That is all over, why do you still mention it? Y/N is your sister, I just happend to pass by here to visit her, what is wrong?"

"Bullshit! Admit to yourself! You just can't move on from your old relationship with her." In the heat of the moment, she slapped Marcus and pulled her hand back immediately. "Marcus, I, I didn't mean it, Marcus..."

"Let's go home." Marcus said softly. You shook your head at the incident and how your life has become.

You heard a clap as you come out of the emergency exit. "Unexpectedly, I saw a good play."

"What?" You asked irritatingly after receiving one trouble after the other. "Nothing, nothing. I just cant believe it's just another side of you. Already married and still want to snatch your sister boyfriend, no wonder Sherry is not your match either." She sneerred. "Think whatever you like."

"Don't you feel embarrassed?"

"If I have time to think about this, I would use it to get Carol's interview. Sharon, you can stay here if you like. I will pack up and get off work first." You brushed her off and walked away.

As you passed the gantry, your phone pinged with a message and you realised it was Natasha waiting outside the building. You rushed out thinking why did she come to such a crowded place. And true to her words, her car was waiting by the road side and got it after making sure no one was around to see you enter.

"Why are you here?" You asked after entering. "Passed by."

"Isn't it not convenient to show up?"

"I changed by car, idiot." The car drove for a few minutes until she spoke up again. "Oh right, my father is coming. Just be at ease."

Father? You remember seeing him during the wedding and his stern face scared you.

Once you returned home, you asked Brooke where he was. "He is in the study room alone."

"Let's go and accompany him." Natasha said to you and you were shocked beyond words. How were you going to approach him? You wheeled Natasha to the study room where you saw him playing chess with himself.

"Alexei, are you playing chess by yourself again?"

"You're back?" He turned his back and stood up making your heartbeat quicken once again as he was approaching you. "Y/N... Let's go eat dinner!" He said excitedly, making your jaw drop at his new expression. He was like a golden retriever, pulling you away from Natasha. "Since that brat wants to play chess, let him play by himself." You looked between Natasha and her father as you forced away.

You were sitting at dinning table, waiting to be served when he said something again. "Y/N, come here, I've got something to tell you." You went closer to him and Alexei made sure Natasha was not around to listen. "That fool, is she sleeping in a different room from you? What are you sacred of? Tell me the truth, is that brat bullying you? I will help you!"

"No, no. It's me who is afraid to wake him up, that's why I suggested to sleep in another room." You rushed to explain yourself. "Y/N, you're a good kid."

"Alexei, I am not as good as you think."

===

"Natasha! Your bed is so soft, and I have decided that I will sleep here! Tonight, you should stay with Y/N." Natasha having anticipated this, wasn't afraid of it. "No need, Brooke prepared a room for you, I'll just sleep there tonight."

When she entered the room, Brooke was putting on the finishing touches. "Miss, the room is ready, but the bathroom..."

"It's okay."

As it was the guest bedroom, it wasn't fixed with the kind of appliance that were friendly to wheelchair users. The showerhead was high up and poses a challenge to Natasha, having to stand up to reach it. Despite undergoing physical therapy to get back where she once was, she was not ready to take such a huge step in a slippery bathroom. When she slipped, everyone in the household in the second floor, could hear it.

"Nata-" Alexei wanted to help but was held back by you. "Alexei, let's go out first. You should get some rest. I will go see her afterwards. I believe she doesn't want anyone to see her now. If we remind her like this, it will make him feel worse."

You waited outside the bathroom until she come out. You saw that she was fine with no physical injury. "I'm fine." She said when she saw you sitting on the edge of the bed. "I know. I believe you."

===

"Why is Natasha Romanoff so hard to deal with?" One of the Team 1 members complained. "She promised to do the interview but he postponed it again! What is she up to?" "What should we do? Are we unable to interview her again?"

"Y/N, it seems like something cropped up for princess charming, why else would she postpone?" Wanda asked after eavesdropping. "If you have time to think about this, why don't you start thinking about how we should settle the interview for Carol!" As you teased Wanda for caring for a idol, you can't help but this if it was because of what happened yesterday that caused her to postpone the interview. Nonetheless, you tried calling Carol's assistant once again with Wanda listening in close next to your ears. "Hello, we are Stark News, may I ask if Carol Danvers is free to-"

"Sorry, Miss Danver has been on a holiday recently and is not available."

"How is it? How is it? Did Miss Danvers agree to do the interview?" Wanda asked as she sees you pulling your phone away. Seeing you shake your head, she collapsed onto her chair. "We are at our dead end now?"

"Go prepare the manuscript for tomorrow's publication, I'll try to contact Danver's assistant when I reach home tonight again."

"Then I'll leave that to you. I'll go back and prepare the interview script."

After a long day at work, you finally reach home in the evening. "Y/N! You're finally home!" Alexei came barreling to you before you were able to close the door. "A-Alexei! What's wrong?"

"You don't know how that brat bullied me when you're not home. I'm so bored at home and she just ignored me."

"Did I?"

"Y/N, let's ignore that little rascal." You sneaked in a little chuckle at the dynamic of this family. "Okay okay, let's eat first, shall we? I just smelled Brooke's cooking and I'm dead hungry."

"Humph." Alexei pulled a face acting like a child who didn't get what he wanted. At dinner, Natasha was constantly putting more food on your plate, making sure you ate enough until you told her to stop and you wouldn't be able to finish everything.

You stood by the balcony after dinner, feeling very satisfied. Thinking back to what Mr Stark said at the meeting, you decided to take another chance at calling Carol Danver's assistant again. If you were unable to get a meeting with her, you'd have to find another influential person to interview. Looking into the starry night, you prayed upon the stars that you would receive a favourable reply, but you only got a negative response.

Stepping back into the room, you shivered slightly now that it was starting to get into autumn, and it caught the eye of Alexei. He gave you a glass of water before berating his daughter again. "You drink this slowly, her own wife is getting a cold and she doesn't do anything about it." You chuckled a little before accepting the water. You didn't think he had such a character when you first met him and honestly, it is a respite towards the cold character that Natasha has been giving you.

"Oi, your wife has caught a cold, you should go show some concern." Alexei walked into Natasha's home office and announced. "Is she? She seemed fine just now."

"Girls are delicate, go check on her now!" He urged her to make a move, and she had no choice but to look into your room. You were fine when she wheeled past your room earlier as you were taking a call, but now, you were spread across the bed. "What's wrong? Where are you not feeling well?" She got closer to check. You were unable to reply coherently, but you noticed her right next to you. "Uh- so... dizzy, so hot..." You held her hand when she tried to measure your temperature.

"I'm so sad..." You suddenly sat up and hugged Natasha. "My dad doesn't want me, Marcus doesn't want me. Don't tell me you don't want me either." You cried onto her shoulder. "I won't." You pulled away and looked at her seriously. "You swear! Quick! I'm about to die from being so sad. If I die, I won't be able to hear you say it."

"Y/N... I swear-." She stopped halfway when she noticed you were drunk. "Natasha Romanoff, why do you look so beautiful and so hot." Influenced by the drink that Alexei gave you, you surged forward and kissed her on the lips. "Y/N..., you're drunk."

===

When you woke up in the morning, you shifted around before fully waking up and opening your eyes. In your haze, you managed to recognise the red hair in front of you and sat up in shock. "You're awake." The sudden movement must have woken Natasha. "You-you, I-." You pushed Natasha away before getting out of bed. "I just remember I have to get to the office, I have to go first."

You were brushing your teeth in the bathroom when you realised it must have been Alexei's doing last night when he gave you that glass of 'water'. You immediately rushed down to ask Brooke where he was, only to learn that he had already left, claiming to have to take care of his plants at home.

With Natasha, she called Alexei to check if it was indeed his doing. "Yup. She seemed to have caught a little cold. Coincidentally, I was brewing some medicinal wine! It was a gift from an old friend."

"You should drink less of that in the future, thank goodness nothing big happened. I'm hanging up." Next, she called Clint who was out of the office collecting some stuff for her before starting work. "Contact Carol, I want to invite Carol and her wife to lunch."

"Carol Danvers? Carol and Romanoff Corp. haven't had any business dealing, Nat. Is this-"

"This afternoon." Natasha interrupted. "Yes, Nat."

You arrived at your table in the office, and there was a feeling of contemplation and hesitation towards the next step. "Y/N, how are things on Carol's side?" Millicent came to check on you once she arrived at work. You shook your head negatively as all your efforts were for nought. "So we can only give up now? We can't let Group 1 make a fool of us. From now on, prepare for another interview! You're going to prepare another interview script for the Movie Queen Monica Rambeau.

You were working closely with Wanda for the next script when you heard your phone ring and were about to decline the call until you saw it was from Natasha. "Leave your afternoon free to accompany me to meet someone." You didn't even get to tell her you were busy and were unable to stay long on the phone. "Can it wait till I get off from work?"

"This afternoon, at 3pm, I am having a meeting with Carol Danvers."

That made you shoot up from your chair, scaring Wanda. "Carol Danvers? I want to go! I will request an afternoon leave!" You covered the receiver on your phone and turned to Millicent. "Millicent, can I get an afternoon leave? I am going to meet Carol."

"You can go now. Prepare everything you need! You must interview Carol this afternoon!"

"Do you need me to go with you?" Wanda asked. "I can go alone, if there are too many people, I'm afraid she will not be happy." You were trying to be cautious after the incident with Sherry.

To make sure the interview goes well, many people stepped forward to help you, including those you have never interacted with before.

===

"Miss Romanoff, the two have arrived, they are just waiting for you." The waiter showed the two of you to the room before opening the door for you. "What is the occasion that made you think about treating us today?" From the way she speaks to Nat, you can tell that they have been friends for a long time. Additionally, you can't help but notice another female next to her. You never heard of her getting married.

"There must be an occasion to treat you?" She smiled at the response before standing and approaching Natasha. "So, this is your newly wedded wife?"

"Yes, this is her." You glanced at Natasha for a second, surprised to see that she actually admitted to it. "Hi, I am Carol Danvers. Just call me Carol." She extended her hand and you accepted the handshake. "Hello, I am Y/N Y/L/N." "Oh right, this is my wife, Valkyrie."

"Nice to meet you." You waved to her with a smile distant back. "So, how does it feel to marry this iceberg?" She inched closer and whispered next to your ears. "It... it feels alright." You replied while looking at Natasha. "I didn't believe that you could stand him."

"Huh?" You were about to ask her what she meant when Natasha cleared her throat, reminding you that you have something to ask of Carol. "Ah! Yes, Carol-"

"Oh yes! I came this time to give you an interview. Right, Nat..." Carol was very bold in teasing Natasha, making you wonder how long they have been friends.

The interview was very easygoing. Carol was a terrific interviewee, often giving juicy content. It felt like you were speaking to a longtime friend of yours, filled with laughter and jokes.

"Alright, thank you so much for accepting the interview. I need to call my team leader, you can chat around for a while first."

"Why did you suddenly get married? Didn't you say you weren't ready?" Carol asked when you stepped out of the room. She loves to hear such stories from her friends. "When the time comes, it will eventually happen."

The lunch ended on a nice note and you even exchanged numbers with her and her wife. You have a feeling that you're going to be great friends with them. On the way back, you asked Natasha who was working on the go how she knew you wanted to interview Carol. "I accidentally overheard your conversation on the phone on the balcony." She replied. You had a fluttering feeling in your body. You didn't expect her to help you like this. "I will also be going to your company for an interview." And you instantly pout again, this way Group 1 will still have an advantage by being able to interview her.

===

"Y/N!! You're the best! How did you do it? Wasn't Carol Danvers on vacation?" Wanda rushed over to hug you once you entered the building. "Well... about this, maybe her assistant put lots of good words for us, that's why Carol agreed to accept the interview." You felt bad lying to Wanda, but you had no choice. "Luckily we didn't give up, or else her assistant wouldn't have been touched by our resilience and helped us!"

"So what if you're done with Carol Danvers's interview?" Both of your heads turn to face Sharon who was looking smugly at the two of you. "Carol Danver is only a little famous, but Natasha Romanoff is different. Her reputation is much higher than Danver's."

"Sharon, your group and our group completed our task. Shouldn't we be happy?" Thank god for Wanda's tough side, you would never have spoken up like this. "Isn't it because you have someone at your back? I don't believe that without anyone's help, you would be able to see Carol Danvers."

"Nonsense. Why is Sharon so hot-tempered? She can't bear to see us living well?"

It wasn't long before rumours spread that Natasha Romanoff was in the building and many flocked to the entrance to be able to see a glimpse of her. Her presence was still able to turn many heads as she was wheeled in by Clint.

"Hello Miss Romanoff, welcome to our company." Sharon, as the team leader, went to greet her and introduced herself. "Miss Romanoff like some peace."

Finally noticing the crowd here, she immediately rushed the rest to leave and continue with their work. "Miss Romanoff, this way." She directed them to the meeting room and had to pass by the crowd you were in as Wanda dragged you there. You quickly turned away hoping she didn't see you but when she asked about your presence, you immediately clung onto Wanda and dragged her back to your table.

"Miss Y/L/N previously contacted Miss Romanoff saying she wants to do an interview." Clint clarified when Sharon didn't understand why she wanted to see you. "What? How could it be? It is Manager Dwayne from Romanoff Corporation who helped me arrange for this interview."

"Huh, I don't even know my schedule. When did it come to a little team leader to be able to make such a decision?" Sharon was at a loss for words, the first time being faced with her cold demeanour. "Since Miss Y/L/N is not here, let's leave. Clint."

"I'll call her right away." Sharon had no choice but to back down when she realised Natasha was going to leave.

"Millicent! I want to borrow Y/N Y/L/N from you. This time for Natasha Roamnoff's interview, I will give the newbie a chance."

"Are you really that kind?"

"Are you going to lend her or not?"

So that's how you and Wanda got the chance to interview Natasha Romanoff and speak to her. You started off by handing Natasha a rough script of what you were going to ask to make sure that the questions were okay and did not cross any boundaries. "I can't believe it, it really is my idol! When I saw her in magazines I thought she was beautiful enough. I didn't expect the real person to be even more beautiful!" Wanda was unable to contain her excitement being in the same room as her.

"Thank you for the invitation Miss Y/L/N." Natasha said when she returned the papers to you. Wanda could feel like something was in the air, but she didn't mention anything. "It's my pleasure, then let's get started, Miss Romanoff." You allowed Wanda to lead this interview, fulfilling her dreams of talking to her idol.

W: I heard that you have been in the business world since 20 years old. After nearly 10 years, you created the Romanoff Corporation. Can you share some experiences with us?

N: Talent.

W: Oh yes, previously you got married, but your wife's identity has always been a secret. Can you share a little on what kind of person your wife is?

N: She's very good. Probably because she is my most precious treasure in the world so I don't want to share her with anyone.

W: Is that why you won't disclose her identity?

N: Yes, she has her own life, I don't want her to be affected.

"Thank you Miss Romanoff for your cooperation today," Wanda said as you turned off the camera recording this session. "We shall see you off then."

"Oh god! I never thought that I would have a chance to have such close contact with my idol and even have a conversation!" Wanda squealed once Natasha left the door. "Wanda, you were very professional." You praised. "Of course I am."

"Ah shit! I forgot to ask her for an autograph." You smiled slightly at Wanda, at least it wasn't just you who was nervous.

"Where is the interview draft script and recording?" There it is, the devil that is constantly at your shoulder disrupting your life. "Sharon, what do you want to do?"

"Even if we gave you guys the interview, do you think we will also give you the interview results as well?" You had to resist rolling your eyes in front of her. "Then why would you go through the hassle of changing people for the interview?" You pushed her buttons, knowing the exact reason why she had to. "It is simply because Sharon was kind to train and give a chance to newbies so you guys got the chance to do the interview!"

"Fine, if that's the case, I remember there are newbies in Group 1 as well right?"

"You mean Group 2 will not share Natasha Romanoff's interview results right?"

"Sharon, what are you doing?" Millicent came to your rescue. "Miss Romanoff shouldn't have gone far, you can ask her some questions if you want. Then you will get a clearer understanding of her wishes."

"If we are going to disturb Miss Romanoff for such trivial matters, isn't it going to show our magazine agency is useless? This time I will let go of it, next time, I won't be so kind!" She and her lackeys finally left Group 2 alone.

You decided to call Natasha when almost everything was finished and ready to be published in tomorrow's paper. "Natasha, I just want to say... thank you for everything today..." You heard the call end and noticed that she hung up on you again. But this time, it was replaced with a message saying she was waiting for you outside.

===

Finally, it's been a long time since you felt so relaxed and refreshed, not having to worry about anything and coming back home for a fulfilling day. You can smile without having to put up a front. "Accompany me to a place tomorrow," Natasha said as you were having dinner together. "Then I will apply for a leave later."

"Just to let you know, since you got to interview Carol and I, your company decided to give you a week off as a reward."

"Really?!"

"Yes."

"Since there is no way to treat you to a meal, I will accompany you wherever you go next week!" Despite dressing in simple clothes, Natasha felt your smile was able to make your entire aura brighter, and even the people around you melt.

"Does this count as a honeymoon?"

Series Masterlist

[the-ace-with-spades]

trying to get myself in the mood to finish slow down (you're doing fine) so here are some headcanons, technically fic-specific but can be read as casual, mostly about the icemav fam feels and bradley

-Whenever they would go out to things like fairs, museums, amusement parks, etc Mav and Bradley would be running around from place to place trying out every thing available with Ice trailing behind them. Bradley grows out of it and is now more trailing behind Jake, letting him choose where to go, whenever they go out somewhere

-Mav met Carole in his last group home in foster care, kept in contact after he aged out and he was the one who introduced her to Goose

-When Carole was still alive, she and Mav would teach Bradley how to play the piano - years later he turned out to be much better than both of them despite being mostly self-taught

-When Ice was stressed out, he would sit down and ask Mav or Bradley to play something for him

-Bradley actually has perfect pitch - he can name any note without the aid of a reference. this makes him incredibly sensitive to musical errors and things being out of tune. Despite that, Bradley was taught by his mom that music performed by loved ones always sounds better, no matter the actual performative value. Despite being a music teacher, Carole would never sing/play at home, always asking Mav or Bradley to do so for her, for the same reason.

-Years later, he realizes Jake has an absolutely terrible singing voice and no sense of rhythm. Despite that, he purposefully tells Jake his shower singing is annoying, knowing fully well Jake will keep doing it to annoy him more and he could keep on listening without being caught being sappy.

-This is also why he never taught Jake how to play piano - he knew it'd be an otherworldly experience and he was pretty sure he'd cry the first time Jake would be able to play the smallest of melodies on his own

-Mav was absolutely terrified that Bradley would end up like him - with a dead pilot for a dad, a sick mom who died before he made enough memories with her and then landing in foster care. In case something happened to Ice and Mav, they had plans C, D and E for Bradley's legal guardianship

-Ice and Mav argued about who would teach Bradley how to shave -- ended up doing it together

-Most admirals (and people who work with Ice in general) know that Bradley is his son, heard him gush about him throughout the years - from Bradley's high school musical roles, baseball matches to Bradley's scholarship and getting his wings and ending with Bradley winning TOPGUN

↑ Literally the proudest dad ever, it's adorable

-Ice hadn't liked a single boyfriend/girlfriend Bradley had and the jury's still out on Hangman

-Mav, on the other hand, hadn't been even aware that Bradley dated - he'd literally invited his high school girlfriend for family dinner and Mav had thought they were 'close friends' and when Ice told him about Hangman and Bradley moving in together after flight school (keeping tabs on Bradley during the no contact era), Mav didn't realize he meant together-together until Hangman told him years later

-Ice also has a photo from Bradley's winging ceremony in his office, standing in front of one of him and Mav and one of the three of them

-Mav absolutely teases him about it even though he literally once blocked up a queue in a grocery store to tell the cashier all about his naval aviator son who had a baseball scholarship and could play the piano after she asked if he has kids. Bradley was already over 25

-When they settled in for Bradley's high school years, they rented a house off-base so he could go to a better school than the ones around the base

-Phoenix is the first girl Bradley slept with and he was the first guy she had slept with. It happened during the beginning of flight school and they did it as friends.

-Bradley's homeroom teacher (who was also his drama club teacher) knew about Mav and Ice since Bradley's freshman year as they would sometimes both come to P-T meetings

-Ice started climbing ranks because he thought Bradley needed more stability and that way he would be able to stay home/in one place - he knew it would break Mav if he was the one to stop flying

-After Ice stopped being deployed, Slider became Mav's RIO for the few years he was still on active duty

-They would both take Bradley flying a lot but the first time when he was allowed to pilot was when he was 14, with Mav in the plane

-Ice would actually take Bradley on unauthorized flights in jets more often, just because he was smarter about it - when he didn't know how to make Bradley feel better, he would pack him in the F-14's backseat and fly

-Whenever the '86 class would meet, Ice and Mav usually would take Bradley with them since they didn't have anyone to leave him with most of the time, hence a twelve-year-old Bradley sitting in a bar late at night with about ten navy guys and goating them into bets over card games that Mav taught him how to cheat at

↑ that's also how Bradley learned to play pool

-Bradley didn't know they weren't married because they couldn't get married until he was 12 and was absolutely horrified when he found out gay marriage wasn't a thing

-Ice, while loving being Bradley's dad, struggled with not feeling guilty about it - legally, only Mav was his godfather, and he felt like he built his happiness (their family) on Bradley's tragedy

[cdr2002]

Mirror Universe Concepts: Lower Decks main cast

Season 5 is here, might as well share this

Beckett Mariner

Daughter of Carol and Alonzo Freeman, Mariner was born in an Alliance slave camp on Earth. Though her parents did their best to try and keep her out of trouble, Mariner was rebellious by nature and often clashed with Alliance overseers, resulting in harsh punishments including solitary confinement and torture. Prone to using her voice as a weapon, Mariner would mock and belittle her oppressors throughout these punishments, only kept alive because the Klingon overseers found her spirit admirable and the Cardassians were amused by her wit. Mariner never succumbed to any attempt to break her, and even wore her scars proudly, much as her behavior deeply worried her mother and resulted in several arguments.

Eventually, Mariner started a small rebellion in the slave camp, intent on killing or incapacitating the overseers and escaping on a freighter owned by a Ferengi trader that Mariner had gotten into contact with made some deals with, typically using money pickpocketed from overseers or from privileged Alliance-collaborating Terrans. The slave riot that kicked off Mariner’s rebellion would also be its end. Many of her fellow slaves were less equipped for combat than her, and nearly all of them were killed by the overseers during the struggle. Though Mariner successfully killed dozens of her oppressors during the fight, the constant death of friends and even her own father around her finally broke her like no amount of torture ever could. In the end she was fighting just to fight, and would only be saved from death, a death she practically wanted by this point, by two things: the intervention of a Klingon warrior named K’orin, who found her cause and spirit honorable, and the timely arrival of Quimp, her Ferengi contact, aboard a cloaked ship. Contacting her over the communicator she had smuggled into the camp, Quimp urged Mariner that it was time to go, and her surviving allies: K’orin, her then-girlfriend Amina Ramsey, and her mother, saw his wisdom in the matter. Quimp successfully beamed Mariner and the other survivors aboard and then fled Alliance space as quickly as possible.

Though managing to escape, Mariner fell into depression. She grew to loathe the universe around her and rarely offered her trust to anyone for fear of putting them in danger. After years of being forced to hide from the Alliance’s attempts to find them and in particular prosecute K’orin for his betrayal, Mariner eventually set out into the universe as a free woman.

Through Quimp’s connections, she managed to acquire a ship: the SS Cerritos. The Cerritos was far from impressive; a run-down, patched together hulk made from dated technology salvaged after the fall of the Terran Empire. While the Alliance allowed the use of a few such ships as freighters, Terran-style configurations typically invited hostility. Exactly what Mariner wanted: a middle finger to their dominance over the Alpha Quadrant and a ship fast and sturdy enough to pull herself and her crew out of scraps, if necessary.

Her crew was small at first. Not able to handle any more violence or death and simply wanting to escape the Alliance, Carol elected to stay in a small Terran sanctuary city on Ferenginar, which the Alliance ignored due to their lucrative dealings with the Ferengi Coalition. K’orin, having sworn a blood oath to Mariner, readily joined her, as did Quimp, worried about his new friend and hoping they would find some business dealings along the way. Ramsey stayed on the Cerritos for a few months, but ultimately decided to leave once she heard word of a large-scale rebellion organizing against the Alliance.

With her ship, Mariner became an infamous troublemaker throughout the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. The mission of the Cerritos was simple: raise as much hell as they could get away with. Antagonizing Alliance patrols, robbing their installations blind, breaking open slave camps and transferring the slaves to safe worlds, simple acts of vandalism. Mariner was known as a pirate, a hero, a terrorist, and a maverick, respected by some and friend to few.

Over time, her crew grew in size, though not without earning her a death mark from the Orion Syndicate. Mariner reveled in her outlaw status, never staying in one place for long and gaining a reputation for fearless abandon. Per a vouching from Ramsey, and even her mother, who found it in herself to fight, the Terran Rebellion became interested in recruiting Mariner as they took to the task of establishing communication within their cells and growing into a larger organization. Afraid of the commitment and the responsibility for more than a small group, Mariner turned them several times and continued to go her own way.

However, the Rebellion has picked up steam recently, performing daring operations like the taking of Terok Nor, and even capturing Regent Worf. With only her own fears holding her back, Mariner could find a cause worth fighting for, an inspiration like that of Starfleet to her prime universe counterpart. But healing such wounds is far from easy.

Bradward Boimler

Born in Modesto California, Boimler’s family had been simple vineyard owners during the time of the Terran Empire. Little ones for violence, they had been supporters of Spock’s reforms and admired him in the waning days of the Empire. When Earth was conquered by the Alliance, the Klingons and Cardassians, fanciers of good drink themselves, contracted the owners of any vineyards who had survived the assault with with producing Kenar, Bloodwine, and any Terran beverages Alliance members had taken a liking to, in exchange for their lives.

Born into this environment, Boimler found the work painfully dull and longed for something more with his life. However, a universe in the fire grip of the Alliance granted him few options. Nonetheless, Boimler had a yearning to explore the galaxy and see what was out there. This desire became so strong that one night, Boimler stole a Cardassian shuttlecraft and set course for the next closest solar system. However, a failure to input the proper verification codes upon reaching orbit and the fear of death forced Boimler to immediately surrender. In the interrogation that followed, his obvious panic meant that there was little need to torture him and he was quickly assessed as a minimal threat. His captors made the decision to transfer Boimler to a labor facility on Vulcan.

The harsh environment ill-suited Boimler. He was easily frightened, not especially strong, and talkative. Exactly the kind of slave the overseers were liable to simply kill and be done with. What saved Boimler’s life was a transporter malfunction that occurred during one of his shifts, duplicating Boimler and creating his twin, William. The accident fascinated Boimler’s overseers, who believed that their transporters could be modified in order to create an infinite supply of slave labor for the Alliance, an accomplishment which would surely greatly advance their careers. More opportunistic and ambitious than his progenitor due to some small variation in their brain chemistry, William offered to assist the research in exchange for being granted the privileged life of an Alliance collaborator for being the cause of this discovery.

In order to prove his sincerity, William goads the overseers to go ahead and shoot Brad. Brad would only be narrowly saved by the intervention of a Vulcan named T’Lyn, a seeming fellow slave to Brad who was in fact an undercover operative for the resistance cell on Vulcan. She short-circuited the transporter remotely with a device she had implanted hours before, leaped into the room, and killed the slave overseers by vaporizing them with a phaser. She attempted to shoot William for being a collaborator, but he managed to grab a Disruptor and fire back, escaping the room. Intuiting that William had no real knowledge on how to recreate the transporter glitch, T’Lyn grabbed Brad and had him beamed to a secure location underground with her, where she explained herself and her mission. Though naturally taking some time to regain his bearings, Brad eventually accepted the situation, and asked to join the Rebellion.

Their higher calling of liberating Terrans, Vulcans, and other races enslaved by the Alliance gave Boimler the worthwhile pursuit he had been searching for all his life. Though the members of the rebel cell on Vulcan were skeptical at first, T’Lyn vouched for Boimler and he was accepted into their ranks, given the training he would need to carry out operations against the Alliance. Now skilled with a phaser, as well as various tactics of infiltration, Boimler became a freedom fighter in earnest, undermining the Alliance regime in conjunction with his allies and learning to overcome some of his own fears. Though Boimler never became one for hand-to-hand combat, he was still nonetheless an effective soldier, and T’Lyn taught him the Vulcan Nerve Pinch in order to make up for that shortcoming.

While fighting as a Rebel, Boimler became an avid follower of the exploits of Captain Beckett Mariner and the SS Cerritos, an outlaw famed for giving the Alliance a bloody nose on more than one occasion.

As the disparate rebel cells began to coalesce after Tuvok managed to get Miles O’Brien’s rebel cell on Terok Nor in contact with the rebels on Vulcan, Boimler personally volunteered for the mission to locate the Cerritos and extend an offer to Captain Mariner.

With T’Lyn offering to accompany him, the mission was approved and the two managed to get themselves onto the ship. Unfortunately, Mariner quickly began causing trouble in the system of their meeting right as they began attempting to make their proposal, forcing Boimler and T’Lyn to become members of her ship’s crew in order to assist in preserving the lives of everyone on board. Braving skirmishes with the Orion Syndicate, the Gorn, and Alliance warships far more powerful than the Cerritos, Boimler is still determined to convince Mariner to take part in the wider rebellion, regardless of the walls she puts up around herself. With time, he may succeed.

D’Vana Tendi

“Mistress of the Winter Constellations”, Tendi comes from a powerful family in the Orion Syndicate. She is the granddaughter of the previous holder of her title, Astrea Tendi, who famously stole an ancient artifact from Terran captain Christopher Pike in the 23rd century, among other accomplishments.

Growing up with immense pressure to fulfill her role as heir to family’s wealth an influence, Tendi chafed against these demands as well as the standards of Orion society as a whole, feeling that her people needlessly limited themselves by pouring their entire cultural resources into their vast criminal empire rather than allowing individuals to pursue other interests. Tendi herself developed a fascination with the sciences at a young age, and dreamt of a life of discovery, exploration, and adventure. These values closely matched that of the Federation Starfleet, but were seldom respected in the Orion Syndicate or elsewhere in the mirror universe. As she reluctantly carried out the family business alongside her sister D’Erika, Tendi would take exceptionally well to the training and various skills her family provided her.

She would also come to despise the Syndicate’s dealings with the Alliance. While the Orions were certainly exploiters, assassins, and thieves, careers Tendi had no taste for, they had long abandoned outright slavering, an act the Alliance almost seemed to specialize in. Though her family tried to explain to her that appeasing the Alliance was simply part of life due to their dominance over the Alpha Quadrant, this was the last straw and Tendi knew she had to leave this life behind.

She would find her escape in the form of outlaw captain Beckett Mariner, who docked her ship at a repair station owned by Tendi’s family after a battle with Alliance forces. Her scientific personal studies having led her to studying various technologies, including those of the fallen Terran Empire, Tendi took a personal interest in repairing the ship. Her skill at optimizing the outdated technology and even fusing it with some contemporary Orion equipment impressed Mariner, and she offered to find some way of repaying her personally. Tendi’s price was escape from the Orion Syndicate, who were already maneuvering to capture the Cerritos and its crew to collect a bounty from the Alliance. Using her inside knowledge to thwart the trap, Tendi quickly earned herself a spot as Second Officer of the Cerritos and the respect and trust of Mariner and the crew. Mariner reacted surprisingly positively to the death mark from the Syndicate, believing it advanced her reputation.

In gratitude for her invaluable contributions, Tendi was allowed the sway to suggest possible sites of scientific observation for the ship, pursuing her passion as much as she could without leaving the ship in one place for too long. This would remain more or less status quo until the arrival of resistance fighters T’Lyn and Boimler, who sought to recruit the Cerritos crew into the growing Rebellion. Tendi was sympathetic to them and was in favor of joining, but Mariner’s reluctance put that idea at the very least on pause. Nonetheless, Tendi has befriended the two Rebellion representatives and is hopeful that the races under Alliance rule can achieve the same freedom of choice she herself sought in breaking away from the Syndicate.

Samanthan Rutherford

Thrill-seeking, rambunctious, and only respectful of authority when it suited his own ends, Rutherford was practically born a rebel. Once he was old enough to be suitable for labor, he was stationed on an Alliance shipyard, where he immersed himself in the study of engines, general starship design, program design, and most especially, speed. Rutherford took in as much knowledge as he could, much impressing his overseers. He became one of the most productive slaves at the facility, refitting dozens of Alliance warships and making improvements to their overall performance. The overseers were so impressed with Rutherford that they failed to keep a close enough eye on him to realize two things: that every Alliance ship he worked on had been outfitted with a sabotage code designed to go off the moment said ship locked their weapons on any Terran life signs, and that Rutherford had been building his own personal ship using parts he gradually stole for himself while working the yard.

After seven months, the small ship was complete, and outfitted with one of the fastest and most compact warp drives in the Quadrant. One night, Rutherford took his ship, the Sampaguita, and made a rush for the Romulan Neutral Zone, which he knew the Alliance vessels wouldn’t pursue him into even if they caught up to him. Skillfully evading the Romulan detection grid, Rutherford took off for parts unknown and began his new life as a free man.

Engaging in illicit ship racing, gambling, and becoming a mercenary engineer, selling his skills at ship repair and enhancement to the highest bidder in the underworld of the Galaxy.

Eventually, another rogue would contact Rutherford: Captain Beckett Mariner, in need of his services to repair the SS Cerritos after another round of damages suffered antagonizing the Alliance. Rutherford would impress the crew, particularly Mariner’s technically skilled Second Officer D’Vana Tendi, with his repairs, optimizing the ship’s systems, further bringing them up to spec with modern technology despite the Cerritos’s century-old Terran frame, and enhancing the capabilities of its shield and warp drive.

Tendi suggested hiring Rutherford onto the crew due to his capabilities, but Mariner was reluctant to give herself the responsibility for another life, and respected Rutherford’s free-spirited nature too much to attempt to pin him down. Ultimately however, Rutherford would be forced to join the crew after Alliance agents caught up with him, seeking to interrogate Rutherford to determine the extent his sabotage work as a slave engineer had affected their fleet.

In the fight ensued, Rutherford docked the Sampaguita, damaged from battle, in the Cerritos’s shuttle bay, before the ship managed to take out two Alliance warships and escape into Ferengi space, where trade agreements forbid pursuit. From then on, Rutherford accepted the position of Chief Engineer aboard the Cerritos, and took part in much of the ship’s troublemaking misadventures from then on.

Due to their respective natures, Rutherford and Mariner would often butt heads and argue, forcing Tendi to be a peacemaker between them. Fortunately, their underlying respect for one another led them to always eventually see reason. Though he hated the Alliance, Rutherford was among the crewmembers skeptical of joining the Terran Rebellion. However upon suffering a nearly fatal injury and being given a cybernetic implant which saved him by Vulcan surgeons, Rutherford would find in his gratitude that he could do nothing less than give his commitment to the cause.

T’Lyn

Born into slavery on Qo’Nos, T’Lyn was the daughter of two house servants owned by a Klingon regent. Her parents raised her in the Vulcan way, as allowed by the Alliance because of the belief that Vulcan logic produced more disciplined servants. However, the strong emotions of the Klingons around her did leave an impression.

When T’Lyn was in her mid teens, her master took her and her family on a trip to Vulcan to meet with a Cardassian gul to whom he was a political ally.

The two were scheming the elimination of a rival and their plan involved the implementation of explosive devices inside the bodies of T’Lyn’s parents to hide their bombs in plain. T’Lyn was horrified and objected, but was knocked unconscious and unable to prevent the procedure. She was kept alive because her master needed a house servant, but he threatened to kill her if she spoke up again.

The two powerful men organized a meeting with their rival and offered him T’Lyn’s parents as a supposed sign of goodwill.

Before things could go further, the meeting was attacked by the Vulcan Resistance, who were seeking to take out high ranking Alliance officials while they were gathered in one place.

During the chaos, T’Lyn managed to grab a Disruptor from a dead Klingon guard and joined forces with the rebels in order to save her parents and achieve freedom. Unfortunately, the explosive devices embedded in them were activated, and T’Lyn was forced to watch her parents die.

After that, she made sure that every Alliance member at the meeting was killed with quick and savant-like marksmanship. She had learned a fair amount just from observation in all these years. Were she not Vulcan, the display might appear as rage. Once the battle was over, she was counseled by the leader of the rebel attack, Sokel. He suggested that it would be logical to channel her feelings towards the liberation of the oppressed throughout the Alpha and Beta Quadrants.

T’Lyn accepted and began training in various aspects of combat, infiltration, espionage, and assassination by the Vulcan underground. She would also be trained in various forms of Vulcan meditation to assist in coping with her trauma, though she remained with an underlying passion that fueled her as a fighter. She became an efficient and deadly fighter, but also a compassionate field medic and liberator, doing her best to free Alliance slaves and help their own recoveries as best she could.

Eventually however, T’Lyn would suffer another loss when Sokel was killed in a skirmish with Alliance forces, driving her into a depression for a number of weeks.

After finding it in herself to begin actively fighting again, T’Lyn succeeded in the liberation of Brad Boimler from an Alliance facility, preventing the Alliance from exploiting transporter duplicates as a source of labor. She assisted in his training and eventually accompanied him to the raider ship SS Cerritos in order to recruit Captain Mariner into the growing Rebellion. T’Lyn’s patience has proven to be her most valuable asset in this endeavor.

[smallpeniscollective]

Teased

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: (season 3, in the middle of all the governor stuff, Daryl comes back to the prison with Merle, and Merle starts poking fun at Daryl for liking a girl)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: some cursing, teasing and somewhat bullying, unwanted flirting/harassment, mentions of walkers

*~*~*

Hearing that Daryl had chosen to leave the prison to stay with his brother had torn her heart in two, ripping the breath from her lungs and leaving an unexplainable weight in her chest. They were never exclusively together. In fact, all they had shared were fleeting moments of lingering eye contact, and moments alone felt like the air was choking them. Their feelings for each other had developed slowly over time, ever since he had saved her from a few walkers during a hunt and brought her back to be introduced to the group. She knew has wasn’t a very expressive man, but she had hoped that he felt just as drawn to her as she was to him.

Well, turns out, he had no problem leaving her. His brother always came first, and she was aware of this every time he brought up the possibility of his brother being alive to Rick. She just never worried about his brother coming between them because she assumed he would have been welcomed back into the group, being somewhat unaware of how venomous and spiteful he was as a person.

She and Carol clung to each in that moment, as they were the two who would miss him the most. Everyone was affected by his failure to come back from their trip, but everyone knew he was closest to her and Carol. Especially her. She and Daryl had received quite some teasing from Carol and Maggie alike about their awkwardness near each other and their obvious lingering gazes. He didn’t have the experience of falling gently for someone, and she lacked experience entirely, so their budding romance was quite a spectacle for those in the group who could recognize mutual crushes when they saw them. So Carol offered her extra solace, taking her away to her cell after she was told the news that Daryl would not be coming back.

Once it was just them, she felt not only sadness, but anger that he would leave her. She thought he cared. Then she had that click in her brain that turned the anger into guilt, and suddenly she realized that would never be a question if her sister was here alive and asking y/n to come with her. And then more sadness flooded in as she accidentally reminded herself of her sister, who she had lost to the walkers not too long ago.

Carol could just see the emotions reeling through her mind, so she offered a sweet embrace to the girl. “Come here, sweetie,” she beckoned, and y/n slumped into her hug. “This isn’t about you, honey. He loves his brother so much, this was never going to be a question. You probably made the decision harder for him, but we all know that he’d follow his brother anywhere.”

She knew this was true. But it didn’t stop her from shedding tears of frustration, guilt, and a returning loneliness that her crush on Daryl had managed to subside momentarily. She quietly cried into Carol’s shoulder, and Carol, the kindest woman that she was, just held y/n and shed her own tears for her lost friend. They sat together like that for a long time.

Eventually, Carol had her turn of duties to do for the group, having to leave y/n alone in her grief.

She didn’t know how long she had laid on that prison mattress and stared at the wall, but it must have been a while. The scent of dinner that she missed had come and gone, and the echoes of people asking Carol if she was okay and Carol responding to everyone with, “She just needs some time.”

Time passed, and then she heard it. The heavy metal doors opening, and heavy footsteps that she didn’t mean to memorize but couldn’t help it. Daryl. She shot up from the bed, not getting up out of bed before she was able to confirm it with the sound of his voice. But the sounds of someone else’s gravelly voice she didn’t recognize accompanied him.

“Hey, y’all, it’s been a while,” the voice said with an overly casual tone. Out of curiosity, she got out of bed and stood idly at the railing outside of their cell, silently watching. She watched as the group but the grey-haired man in the locked in area of the cell block, and when he clanked his large metal stub against the bars was when it clicked in her head. That was Merle. He was so angry about being locked up and callously mocked everyone he recognized. But he wasn’t important right now.

She rushed down the stairs, but her feet stopped in their place when she reached the bottom, unable to bring her closer to Daryl. The whole group watched as Daryl’s eyes locked onto her, matching her stare with silent remorse.

“Oh, who’s this that everyone is starin’ at?” Merle asked deviously, leaning against the bars with a disrespectful glare as he looked her up and down, assessing her attractiveness and deciding he was up to par and stood an obvious chance. “Well, hello there, pretty young lady,” he flirted, and it sent every muscle in her body cringing. It wasn’t until he realized Daryl was staring too that he decided to kick it up a notch. “Why dontcha come on over ‘ere and make a fella feel better?”

She side-eyed him with disgust before looking back at Daryl, letting her facial expression do all the talking for her. How could you leave me?

Frustrated, he yelled, “Shut up, Merle!” before walking past everyone in a huff, including y/n.

“Didn’t know little brother had a girlfriend up in the prison,” Merle joked, teasing his brother. Everyone’s eyes were glued onto the situation, some out of curiosity, some out of hatred for Merle.

Daryl whipped around at the world “girlfriend”, appearing red in the face. She had never seen Daryl in such a state; he was always the stoic one of the group, barely responding to what the others said. But now, with his brother teasing him about her, she started to puzzle together exactly how their relationship worked.

“It ain’t like that,” he snapped at his brother, almost spitting on him through the bars. “Y/n and me are none of yer god damn business!”

“It ain’t like that, huh? Ya still got problems gettin’ in the ladies’ pants, eh?” Merle quipped, a smug grin creeping over his face as he watched Daryl fall right back into his role of the weak, easily-angered little brother. Daryl went quiet, putting his head down in angry defeat because he couldn’t think of a retort. Merle laughed, feeling satisfied in having put down his brother once again.

She caught Merle’s gaze with an unimpressed face. “Are you always this annoying?”

He dropped his smug facade and stared through her, like he was attempting to burn holes in her skin with his eyes. He distastefully licked his lips and began a horrid display of swaying his hips back and forth. “Not always...sometimes I can be... discreet.”

And with that, Daryl had had enough of his brother’s taunts. He walked away, grabbing her arm in passing and leading her away from his vile brother. The group whispered to each other as Daryl pulled her into a cell.

“That damn son of a bitch,” he muttered to himself, his anger pretty much seeping through his pores. He paced the small cell, the muscles in his arms tensing wildly. She sat down on the cot, holding her hand out gently, a gesture to invite him to sit with her. He reluctantly took her hand, plopping himself down hard next to her and slightly shaking the small bed.

Still holding his hand, she deftly ran the tips of her fingers over the back of his hand. He softened for a moment, relaxing into her hand and looking over at her with sad eyes. “Sorry ‘bout that jackass,” he mumbled.

“He’s not what I’m worried about,” she began, a nervous lump forming in her throat as she tried to gather some courage to say, “I was worried about you. I thought you left me, Daryl. And, I know I’m not your girlfriend... You made that very clear...”

His mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but she continued on.

“But I’m not gonna lie and say it didn’t hurt when I thought you weren’t coming back. And I’m not mad... if my sister was alive today and asked me to come with her, there wouldn’t be a doubt in my mind, so I understand why you left... I guess what I’m trying to say is that you matter to me. And if you need to leave again, I’d like to come with you.”

He stared at her with his classic stoic expression, the one that didn’t let her know what was going on his head. He looked at the wall, trying to put his thoughts and feelings into words. All he could conjure up was, “I didn’t wanna leave ya... Merle jus’ wouldn’t go back... he’s my brother.” He shifted uncomfortably, chewed on his bottom lip for second before blurting out, “And I don’ know ‘bout you... but I think of you as my girl.”

A smile grew on her face, radiating warmth and joy, and it spread to him, causing him to give a little curl up on the side of his mouth. She giggled and asked bashfully, “You think of me as your girl?”

He looked deep into her eyes, and for a second, she could see him glance down at her lips, giving her a cheeky little idea. She put her hand on his cheek, stroking the little patch of beard on his chin with her thumb, before gently pulling his face down to meet hers, capturing his mouth in a kiss. His lips met hers stiffly, before relaxing his mouth into hers and allowing himself to feel the softness of it all. Their hot breaths mixed together in a tender dance as his warm hands snaked down to wrap around her waist.

Before the kiss got too heated, she pulled back, grinning uncontrollably like a kid on Christmas Day. He sill held onto her tightly, and she moved her hands to his chest. “Y’know... the group is probably wondering what we’re doing...”

“Let ‘em wonder,” he said, pulling her in for another kiss.

[zombiewhor3]

THE END OF US

fem reader x carl grimes

WARNINGS: main character death, spouse loss, angst, grief, implications of depression,

impatiently she waited, well in her mind it had felt like years, when in reality it had only been months since she watched Glenn die.

Now she was waiting for a letter from Carl,

she waited for a letter that explained what was happening in Alexandria while she was staying at Hilltop.

everyday felt like hell without any word from Carl, and with the war still going on nobody from Alexandria ever visited Hilltop.

Unless it was necessary, unless they needed supplies or even people to fight with them.

And even then Hilltop hadn't had that much to offer as their own food source and weapon source began to grow smaller and smaller.

Y/n rested on her knees her hands wearing gloves as she gently placed in the last tomato plant into the garden bed Maggie had created.

Once covered with soil she slipped off her gloves and used a watering container to drizzle water over the plants in hope they grow full and healthy with fresh vegetables for them to eat.

she could hear the guards yell a signal to open the gates to which she rushed and stood just at the opening watching as people from Alexandria started to fill in.

Rick, Daryl, Rosita and Tara all there with nothing but false expressions trying to hide the fact they had just lost another person.

Without a doubt y/n wrapped her arms around Daryl and she could sense something was off, not just by the lack of the hug back but from the way he hadn't said anything to her.

the gates shut behind them and they had stepped foot into hilltops territory, Rick had looked down at his shoes after seeing Maggie approaching to see what news there was.

Carol and Morgan gathered behind her and other members of hilltop stopped their job to look at the leader Rick Grimes in front of them.

"what's happening?" Carol asked and could see as Daryl made an eye contact with her, a sad one, one that was swallowing back sadness.

"Carls dead" the words from ricks mouth struck her like lightning, her eyes widened and everything in her body seemed to freeze.

her knees dropped to the ground and it felt like the world had stopped, her vision blurred and her lungs collapsing inside her.

Maggie had wrapped her arms around her, because she understood the pain, the pain of losing someone without even a goodbye.

-

Now she hadn't eaten anything in days, nothing except small sips of water to keep her mouth from running unbearably dry.

she sat at the guard tower day and night, she was ignoring the fact she needed sleep.

a gun was rested in her holster as she desperately waited for something, anything to come by the gates of Alexandria.

now that Carl was gone what was the meaning of this god forsaken place? Was one dead boy really going to stop a war?

she had been transported to Alexandria by Maggie and Jesus in hopes that she would maybe be able to properly mourn.

because it was carls body buried on that land, he was buried right next to where all the others were, where they all rested peacefully.

but she hadn't visited his grave, no matter how much she wanted to face the reality that he was gone it was all just to much.

She could feel a palm press against her shoulder blade and it had made her jump a little.

"relax kiddo it's me" Daryl spoke and could see as she let out a relived breath, she took a seat on the railing and watched him do the same.

"you shouldn't be up here all the time" Daryl spoke and could see as she shrugged,

and just as he was about to speak again he heard giggles coming from just below them.

they peaked their head down to see Judith who was running out of the house, her blonde hair bouncing around in her face.

y/n had climbed down the ladder to grab her before she had gotten to far from Michonne or ricks reach,

Holding her in her arms and seeing her smile had made her start to quiver a little,

she had a sad and soft expression as she looked at the joyful child who had no clue what was happening except that she was running.

Not from something or a monster she was running because she was a gleeful child, who was simply trying to play like every child should. 

she only imagined what the future would be like without Carl, birthdays and holidays would go by as his and Judith's hand print on the front porch would soon start to wither away from the rain and all sorts of weather that had occured.

she would spend her nights alone and when in doubt of making the right decision she had no one to guide her, no one to settle her emotions when they were all torn up into shreds. 

she never understood why carl was so nice of heart, why he was so willing to let a stranger come into their home, he gave him food and water and yet he was still re-paid from the world with a walker bite, one that couldn't be cured or amputated. 

there was nothing he could do but turn into rotting flesh, turn into one of those monsters. 

everyone else in the community could sense her ache as they walked past, as they could see the lack of sleep and the pity that always seemed to linger in her eyes after he died. 

especially Daryl, he could see how she sat at his grave for hours at a time flipping through his old comic books or just staring blankly at it almost like she was thinking and yet he knew exactly what was in her thoughts because he had the same ones.

the same ones of if he had made the right choice would Glenn be alive? if he hadn't let his temper escape him what would've happened? 

she couldn't help herself but think if she'd stayed in Alexandria with him maybe she could've prevented the bite, prevented all the ache the rotting corpses caused to their family.

maybe he'd still be alive right here and now and standing up for what he believed in. 

she sat at the foot of her grave as Judith played with a stuffed toy in her lap, y/n could feel her heart ache a little at the fact of the child's innocence how sweet she was and how the world truly didn't deserve her or her brother. 

but in the end she still had all the memories and rememberance of the sweet words he used to say, the comic books he left by her bedside and oh, the crafted necklace he made her. 

and if she ever needed to talk he'd be there buried.

[billys-pretty-babe]

What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : A summer trip with your three best friends to Vegas should be fun right?

Warnings : Underage drinking, swearing, implied smut

Word count : 2,092

A/N : Everyone is 18!

You've spent 2 days in Vegas so far and you don't think you've ever partied so much in your life. Your breakfast consisted of pain killers, electrolyte filled drinks and crackers to cure your hangovers. Tonight was different, Tommy and Carol decided on a whim to get married in one of the Elvis chapels.

Billy thought they were crazy, droning on about it in the hotel room. "So you'll never get married?" He scoffed, "Fuck no. I'm not putting my children through shit that I went through." He shook his head as he took a puff from his cigarette. "Yeah, well Neil's an asshole, you're not like him," you said as you laid in the large white bed in your hotel room. "I can see it. You meet some girl, real pretty, she's shy and quiet to balance out your craziness and you get a white picket fence and a good sized house and you'll have little Billy's running around and asking to see their aunt all of the time." He laughed and shook his head.

"Fuck that, no need for a wife or kids when I have your annoying ass." You mocked him and flicked him off and he laughed as he tossed his cigarette in a beer can and swished it around in the beer and backwash mixture. He laid beside you, slamming his feet down on the ground as he relaxed, looking at the ceiling. You looked at him, your face a few inches from the side of his head, if he would face you, the tips of your noses would touch.

"What's wrong?" He shook his head, "Nothing, they're so fucking stupid." You hummed, "They've been together since middle school, right? Maybe this really is what they want and it's not just the adrenaline of it." He hummed and nodded. "What if she's pregnant?" You laughed, "Wouldn't surprise me, they go at it whenever they can." He laughed and nodded, "That's true." You both laid in silence for a few moments before your door opened, Carol and Tommy walked inside.

"What're you guys conspiring about?" Billy laughed, "Nothing." He hummed, "Like I believe that." You laughed and shook your head. "What time do we have to leave?" Carol smiled, "Eight." You nodded, being left with a few hours of free time.

Now, it was dark outside as you and Billy sat on the uncomfortable chapel benches, his thigh pressed against yours, his pants were tight, you could hear it in his groaning and the way he had to keep readjusting himself. They signed the marriage license as Tommy popped open the champagne bottle, pouring it into four glasses, you and Billy were lucky the chapel was on the first floor of the hotel so that no one had to drive.

That was all you could remember that night, everything else was a blur. When you awoke the next morning, everything felt off but at the same time, you felt at peace, the most peace you had felt in your entire life and that all came crashing down when you heard a familiar groan and fingers under your left breast before bare thighs made contact with your own, his chest connecting with your bare back.

Fingers squeezed your own and you looked down, horrified as you saw his silver ring on your ring finger, clear tape on the band to fit you better, your own ring basically burned a hole in your back as it hung on Billy's necklace. He groaned again in your ear, his head gently nuzzling against the back of your own before you felt him still.

"Oh shit," he rasped out. "Oh shit is right." Instead of tearing himself away from you, he held you tighter. "What the hell did we do?" You shrugged, "No idea, I don't remember anything after we started to drink." He nodded and brought up your linked fingers, seeing his ring on your finger, his left hand going down his neck, tracing the dainty chain that laid perfectly on his skin and he twisted your ring in his fingers.

"There's no way they let us go through with it." You shook your head, "No way, they would've stopped it." Billy nodded. He sat up, his hair a mess and you laughed and attempted to smooth it as you saw his back, your skin heating up, your jaw dropping. "What is it?" He asked as he turned his head, pulling his skin to try and see. "Uh, you'll see." He nodded and grabbed the white sheet, ripping it from your body, leaving it for his viewing. "Damn, too bad I don't remember that." You quickly grabbed the white duvet, a few holes in it as feathers floated out.

"Damn," he exclaimed, "I was good then." You rolled your eyes, "Whatever." He laughed and wrapped the sheet around his waist, bruises and bite marks littered his stomach, v-line and the small glimpse of his thighs that you saw a flash of. He walked into your en-suite bathroom. "God damn," he exclaimed again as he walked out and waved at his body. "You got rabies or something?" You laughed and shook your head, shooing him back to the bathroom.

He leaned against the wall as you stood up, wrapping the blanket around your body, more feathers falling out. "I'm gonna shower. Wanna join? I won't touch you." You nodded and followed him, the blanket dragging on the floor and he laughed. "What're you laughing at, Hargrove?" He laughed once more, his hands going to your waist, "Well Missus Hargrove, I'm laughing at your makeshift dress." The name did something to you, like it fulfilled you.

"Shut up, William," you seethed and he let you go, laughing again as you both walked into the bathroom. "Bath or shower?" You sighed, looking at the jacuzzi tub. "Bath." He nodded and turned the water on and you turned the hot water up and he shook his head as he turned it down slightly before turning up the cold water. "Billy, no. Hot water." He looked at you, "No, I want warm. I don't need my skin melting off of me." You rolled your eyes and let him do what he wanted.

He looked in the cabinets, twisting the top off before flinging it on the tile floor as he dumped half of the bottle of bubbles into the bath water. He turned around, looking at the wall. "You can go ahead and get in. I promise, I'm not looking." You laughed and untucked the top of the blanket and got into the warm water, turning the hot water knob quickly and turned it back off as the water heated up.

"I'm not looking." He laughed and you looked at the mural that was on the wall and the water sloshed slightly as Billy got into the water, sitting across from you in the tub. "So, what are we gonna do?" You shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, is it even legal? Am I legally your wife?" He shrugged, "I don't know if we signed a license. I sure as hell can't afford a divorce right now." You nodded, "Yeah, neither can I." He shrugged, "Maybe it's not that bad." You raised a brow at him, "You were talking shit about marriage last night." He laughed, "Yeah but you're my best friend. It's not weird, I mean sure, my dick was inside you." You gagged and he laughed.

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad," he said as he motioned to his stomach and to your neck and chest. "I say, we give this a chance, we actually try and then think about what we want." You nodded. "You know you have to stop fucking around now." He nodded, "I know, I don't care."

For the first time in Billy's life, he felt complete, you had always completed him but as he sat here in the hot water (which he wouldn't dare to bring up), looking at you, your skin holding a soft glow that only appeared after sex, your eyes held something that he couldn't place but it made his heart melt, he felt whole, he felt accomplished.

"I'm gonna get you a ring and then get us wedding bands." You nodded, "Okay," you softly said, the ring becoming slippery from the bubbles and the tape. You took it off, reaching over and placing it on the blanket. You got back into the water and Billy reached for you, bringing you close to him, your knees pressing into his biceps as you sat between his legs. He brought his hand up, it was soapy but neither of you cared. He placed it on your cheek, rubbing circles on the skin.

"Can I kiss you?" Faster than you would have liked, you nodded and he smiled and stopped rubbing his thumb on your skin, his hand moving down so your jaw was between his thumb and forefinger as he leaned down and kissed you, your hands immediately going to his shoulders.

A shrill shriek broke the two of you up, Tommy and Carol standing in the doorway, Carol's fingers over her eyes, Tommy's eyes wide. "What the hell did we walk in on?" Billy laughed, hand going to the middle of your back, softly scratching it. "Apparently, we got married last night." Carol nodded, "I know, I was a witness. I got it filmed too. Tommy and I have to go pick up the disks in a few hours." Billy nodded.

"Where's the license?" She pointed to the bedroom, "Top drawer, on top of the Bible." You both nodded and they left you both alone, the door slamming shut. Soon, the two of you finished up before getting dressed and you and Billy cleaned up the room as you put his ring back on your finger. He opened the drawer and there it was, the marriage license, both of your signatures on the page, sure they were wonky but you could clearly make them out.

"Move in with me," you said, no hesitation. You had moved out after graduation, living in an apartment by yourself in a city outside of Hawkins. He nodded instantly, "Okay." He put the license away, back in the drawer and sat in the middle of the bed, body sinking slightly. "No fucking way," he said as he got up, lifting the mattress slightly to see two wooden slabs broken. He looked at you, "Are you okay?" You nodded, "Yeah, I'm good, nothing hurts." He nodded and laid back down and you laughed as he slowly sank.

You laid beside him and he wrapped one arm around you, looking up at the ceiling, "Fucking Vegas, man. What happens in Vegas can't stay in Vegas." You laughed, "Sure can't." He laughed, "I feel like it would have happened eventually, there's no way we wouldn't have gotten married or stayed in a long-term relationship." You nodded, intertwining your fingers with his.

"Just sucks that we weren't sober when we did it." He snickered, "Which part?" You rolled your eyes, "The wedding, not sex." He hummed. "I think we should consummate again." You laughed, "Of course you do. You think with the wrong head." He laughed, body shaking as genuine happiness filled the room from the two of you.

Hours passed before Tommy and Carol showed back up, tossing the case beside Billy and he picked it up and placed it on the bedside table. "You're not gonna watch it?" Billy shook his head, looking down at you, your head on his chest as you slept. "Not without her, we're a team now, whether we remember it or not." Tommy nodded, hand on Carol's hip as she smiled as she watched Billy's grip tighten on you.

"So, you guys are gonna stay married?" He nodded, "Yeah, we're just gonna see what happens." Tommy nodded, a slight smile on his face, happy for his two friends. He and Carol left the room and Billy pulled your leg up over his waist, fingers barely connecting with your skin as he took mental pictures of each visible mark, scar, and everything else. You gripped his shirt in your fist and he held you closer, kissing the top of your head.

In just two years time, Billy had two mini-mes, his baby girl and his baby boy, his son carrying his first name and his baby girl carrying his mother's name. Who knew this would come out of a summer trip to Vegas when the two of you were eighteen?

[tangledinink]

Chapter Seven of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is out! Just normal teenage boys doing normal teenage things. :) Read it on ao3 or below the cut.

[ prev ]

It had been three days now since they last saw their dad.

On the first night, over and over, everyone kept saying, ‘I’m sure he’ll be home any minute. He’s more than capable of defending himself. He wouldn’t just disappear. Any second now,’ and the only reason that Mikey had been able to get himself to sleep that night was because he thought that maybe when he woke up again, Dad would be back. He wanted to just skip forward to the good part. But then when he woke up, the good part wasn’t there.

The following morning, Mrs. O’Neil was in the kitchen making breakfast, with the blankets all folded up neat on the couch as if she hadn’t slept there that night. April helped set the table, as if this were normal, as if she hadn’t slept on a bean bag in the Lair, as if they were meant to be here and it made sense for them to be carefully preparing for a big pancake breakfast instead of wolfing down bagels and granola bars in a chaotic frenzy, attempting to make it out the door on time.

It wasn’t like Mikey didn’t appreciate it. He did. It was nice, the gentle looks, the backrubs, the hugs… But it felt weird. Alien, almost. And yet, even with things being so starkly different, even with the five of them staying home from school, staying home from activities, in this absolute jarring contrast to their normal routine, at the same time, there were still these moments that felt so… untouched. Leo and April made bad puns when the opportunity arose like they always did. Raph physically picked up and moved them when they were in his way or getting on his nerves, like usual. Donnie took the time to check up on all of his houseplants, watering anyone who needed it. Some memes were sent to the group chat. Leo and Raph got in a fight over the last raspberry popsicle in the freezer. 

There were moments where Mikey could almost look around and pretend like everything was normal. Dad just wasn’t home right now, and that was all. There were all these beats and steps that just weren’t colored by this horrible thing at all, in this weird way that Mikey wasn’t expecting.

But just on the surface level.

Because no. Dad isn’t just out getting groceries or meeting with an agent or picking up takeout. Dad isn’t here. And they don’t know where he is. 

They had already discovered, on that very first night, that Dad’s cell phone was left in his bedroom. They had obviously all tried texting and calling him about eighty times each, with no response, and eventually found the phone, plugged into its charger on his nightstand. They tried guessing the passcode, but none of them knew it, so they had all looked at Donnie. They said that they would figure it out and pocketed the device. And aside from coming down to care for their plants and grab some banana pancakes, they hadn’t been down from their room since.

They spent most of the first day making calls. They contacted everyone that they could think of. Dad’s agent, his lawyers, any friends or acquaintances he knew. They called each and every one of his dojo locations. Anyone whose number they could find who they had ever known to speak with Dad, they contacted, asking them if they had seen him, heard from him, had anyone idea who the masked guy could be? And over and over they heard, no, sorry. We haven’t seen him. We haven’t heard from him. We don’t know anything about this stranger. We’ll keep an eye out and let you know right away if anything changes. Dead end. Dead end. Dead end.

They texted people, they sent emails, they combed the internet for anything that might be helpful, but they didn’t find anything. The whole group, Mrs. O’Neil and even Donnie included (Mrs. O’Neil, I mean, Carol, made them come. Mikey thought that it was probably because they were nervous about anyone being alone after… you know,) took multiple walks around the neighborhood, the neighborhood next over, and the neighborhood next over to that, looking for any sign of their father.

On the second day, Mikey made posters, and they started hanging those up when they did their walks. Word was starting to spread, and Mikey kept getting texts on his phone-- friends from school, friends from dance, friends from sports, friends of friends… At first, Mikey would reply to all of them. Would say, oh, thank you so much for reaching out, we really appreciate it, please, if you see him at all, let us know… But that rapidly became exhausting. After the first ten, Mikey took to just copy-and-pasting the same message asking them to look, along with an image of the poster he had made. And even just that was exhausting. What was he supposed to say? ‘Everything is horrible and I have no idea how I’m feeling right now, I’m just overwhelmed and terrified-- thanks tho, melting face emoji?’

Donnie got into Dad’s phone but didn’t find anything useful. They sent out emails and texts to every contact he had saved, even though they didn’t recognize half of them, and posted on every social media that he had. All four of them posted on their social media, too. Mikey made a TikTok video reaching out to 350k of his followers. He kept all his notifications on, hoping and waiting that someone would message him telling him that they had seen him and he was okay… but it didn’t come. There was a flood of empathetic comments, of thoughts and prayers, of heart emojis. But nothing that would help them. He and his brothers posted on every Lou Jitsu fan forum that they could find, but they got much of the same there, too.

And now it had been three days. Three days was a long, long time. Ever since that first night, Mikey couldn’t really sleep. He knew his siblings couldn’t, either, and he anxiously fussed over them whenever he could, trying to encourage them to get some rest. Especially Leo. He hardly ever slept even on a good day-- now he kind of just seemed more and more like a wreck as time passed. All of them did. 

It was on the third day that Mrs. O'Neil got a phone call. Well-- she had been on the phone on-and-off ever since she got here that first night, making calls and taking them, even more than they had. But this phone call, in particular, went a little like this:

"Hello?" 

"Yes, this is she,"

"What?"

"No, I'm sorry,"

"No."

"Yes, I'm absolutely certain. No. No, we're not accepting any interview requests right now. I'm not sure you do understand. With all due respect, I'm not putting any of these kids on TV right now. Yes, I'm quite sure."

"Yes."

"You have a great day, too. Goodbye."

Mikey knew that all four of his siblings were listening, but Leo was the first one to speak once Carol hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" 

"A reporter," Carol sighed in response. They had barely exchanged five words and she already seemed exhausted with this conversation.

"What did they want?"

Carol pursed her lips. "They were asking about doing a live interview or bringing you guys on their talk show. I told them we weren't interested."

"Why would you tell them that?"

"Because we're not."

"Uhm. Maybe you're not," Leo corrected, his brows furrowing. "Why the hell can't I do an interview? I can do interviews! I've done interviews before! I'm great at interviews."

"It's not a good idea, Leo," Carol said, putting her phone down, turning her attention back to her laptop in front of her, beginning to type again. Oof. That was gonna piss Leo off.

"Why not?!" Leo demanded, growing pissed off. "I've done interviews before! I've done live shows! I could totally handle this! Besides, we're trying to get the word out to as many people as possible. What if someone saw the interview and knew where Dad was? This could help!"

"This isn't up for debate, Leo. I'm not putting any of you kids on a talk show right now."

"Why is it your decision!? I'm the one who would be on the show! Why don't I get to decide?"

"Because I'm the adult," Carol was just a step away from snapping, but her voice was hard, definitive. "I just said this isn't up for debate. I'm sorry, but it's off the table. It's not a good idea."

Mikey looked nervously at his brother, wondering if he should say something. Raph looked like he was about to, but Leo huffed, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet. "Fine," he hissed in reply, promptly moving to the front door and beginning to put on his shoes.

 "Where are you going?" Carol questioned, frowning a bit.

"Gymnastics."

"Leo--"

"I'm sick of sitting around here not doing anything! It's driving me crazy. We have gymnastics practice right now. I'm going to gymnastics. Mikey, are you coming?"

Mikey jumped when eyes shifted to him, floundering for a second. If he was being totally honest, he wasn't exactly in a gymnastics mood, but... he knew that Mrs. O'Neil wasn't gonna let Leo go by himself. And there was no way he was gonna convince Donnie to even leave his room, let alone go to gymnastics practice. Maybe... it would be good? Get his mind off of things?

"Yeah. Uh. I'll come. Let me grab my stuff. Hang on," he said, jumping to his feet and scampering off to grab their gymnastics bags-- packed and ready to go in the hallway, like they always were, like they didn't know anything was wrong. 

"Leo, I don't know if this is--"

"I'm not going alone, Mikey is with me. There's gonna be adults there. We'll get a taxi cab home when it gets dark. I'm not gonna sit here twiddling my thumbs anymore. I'm gonna go insane." Leo spoke over her, and Mikey thought privately to himself that that was rather ballsy. Leo must really be upset because usually none of them would dare interrupt Mrs. O'Neil. He hurried to get his shoes on, hoping that they could escape before things got too heated. Sorry April, sorry Raph. 

"Ready, Mikey?"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm ready. Let's go." 

---

April was trying really hard to be patient with her brothers right now, 'cause she knew that they were having a hard time. I mean, if either of her parents went missing, she'd probably be behaving less than her best, too. Raph was clingier than ever, and April had had to talk him off the metaphorical ledge about five times now, Donnie had turned into a total hermit, even by Donnie standards, Leo was honestly being kind of a brat, and Mikey was...

Ugh. God. Mikey. He was such a sweetheart. He was killing himself, April could tell. Even more than she was killing herself right now. She would have to corner him later. Right after she cornered Leo.

And kicked his ass.

Look, she got where he was coming from, but did he really need to tick her mom off like that!? And then leave her to deal with it?! She knew her mom was mostly just worried, (and, okay, maybe also kind of peeved, but April could only kind of blame her,) but that didn't make it any more pleasant. And once she managed to settle her down, she had to deal with Raph, too. 

 If her mom was freaked out, then Raph was about ready to lose his mind. April half thought he was gonna take off after Leo and Mikey on foot any second now. April sank into the couch next to him, bodily draping herself over his lap to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

"Hey Big Guy," she said, blinking up at him, forcing a half-hearted smile. "How you holding up?"

"Me?" Raph said, just barely glancing down at her before his eyes snapped away again, anxious and flighty. "I'm fine. Raph's fine. How are you holding up?"

God, they were all so predictable. April privately thought that self-sacrifice must be a Hamato tradition. It was simply a question of which one of them could outdo the rest.

"You're a bad liar. You're as bad as Mikey. As bad as Donnie."

"What?!" Raph squawked in protest. "I am not as bad as Donnie! No one's as bad as Donnie!"

"Okay, well, maybe not that bad," April relented. "Leo and Mikey are gonna be fine. They're taking the subway in broad daylight. They're only gonna be, like, ten minutes away. They both had their phones and they already said they'll take a taxi cab home. It's okay."

"I know," Raph said, wrinkling up his nose. "It's just-- I mean. What if somethin' bad happens to 'em? And I'm not there to help?" 

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

There was a telling silence.

"Raph. It's not your job to protect your Dad from creepy stalker fans. And you couldn't have done anything."

"I know," Raph relented, frowning a little. And it wasn't that April didn't believe him, but... There was a difference between knowing and knowing. April knew that perfectly well. Raph might be the biggest brother, but she was the biggest sister, and... okay, she wasn't gonna sit here and delude herself into thinking that she could have physically stopped that guy if she had just moved a little faster. She wasn't a martial arts champion like the rest of them, (even if she did have a mean left hook and an even meaner softball swing.) But she hated... watching them fall apart. She hated watching all of them shrivel up under the stress. She hated that she couldn't fix this for them... Or at least make it a little easier.

And she was worried too. Mr. Hamato might not be her dad, exactly, but... this was her family, too. She had known Yoshi since she was five! She used to spend every afternoon after school at their house, and they would spend the weekends at hers. She couldn't even count how many slumber parties and sleepovers they had had over the years. Raph, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey were like her brothers, and Yoshi was, like... her weird uncle or something.

She really hoped he was okay. And that he'd be back soon.

"Nothing bad is gonna happen. They'll go to gymnastics, they'll blow off some steam, they'll come home, and maybe Leo will be less of a headache for the rest of the evening." She said with a sigh. "Maybe he's got a point! You guys aren't used to being cooped up for so long."

"I guess," Raph said, seeming unconvinced, though he leaned back a little into the cushions, slumping a bit. April would take even the littlest victory. 

"You could probably use a distraction too."

"Mmm..."

"Sooo... You could paint my nails for me? I'll paint yours back." She offered, raising a brow. He had to take the bait here. This always worked. The boys loved getting their nails painted. Especially Raph, since he was so bad at doing his own. He was okay if he was working on someone else, but if it was a solo project, that right hand just never quite turned out right.

It took a moment, and for a moment April thought he might actually turn her down, but eventually, he sighed and relented. "Okay, fine," he agreed. "But Raph gets to pick the colors this time."

Thank god for small miracles. He could pick whatever color he wanted.

---

Mikey had never noticed how loud the gym was before.

Usually, it didn't bother him. But today? It was just... so much noise. Every thump of a landed flip echoing through the padded floor, reverberating, every shout, every stomp, every clap of chalk on hands... It seemed to travel right through his bones.

He was waiting for it to wear off. 

Their instructor had seemed... surprised to see them, especially since they had gotten there a half-hour late, but hadn't protested or turned them away, much to Mikey's relief. Well, initially it had been relief, but now he wasn't so sure. Usually, he adored gymnastics. It was easily one of his favorite hobbies, (tied between ballet, painting, cooking, yoga, hip-hop, and skateboarding,) but there was something... off today. Every movement seemed just a beat behind reality, as if he himself were lagging somehow, like the connection was slow. His head felt fuzzy.

Every second they were here felt so odd. Everyone was just... working. Doing gymnastics. Practicing back-flips and floor routines. Mikey wanted to scream at everyone. How could they all just act like this when their dad was missing? How could they pretend like things were okay and just keep moving through life? Every person they passed on the walk here, every passenger on the subway, the receptionist at the front desk, he wanted to grab them by the front of their shirts and wail to them and explain everything. 

How could people just live? How could so many people just not know that their dad was gone and might not ever come back?

Mikey had been working on his high bar routine for almost forty minutes now, and he still wasn't getting it right. Usually, this was easy. It wasn't even that hard of a routine, not compared to some of the other things he had done before. But every single time he made another go at it, he missed a beat or moved the wrong way, his brain blanking out on the next step, and he'd have to start over again, gritting his teeth and telling himself he'd get it right this time. The chalk on his hands itched. He was forming a blister. Blisters had never bothered him before.

His coach was being so patient. So sweet, repeatedly telling him it was okay, he could just try again, but it wasn't okay. He wanted to yell at her, too, that they both knew he could do better than this. But he didn't. He just thanked her and nodded his head and kept going.

Leo was over at the vault. He could see him from here. From what he could see, he was doing fine. He wasn't missing any turns or freezing up or losing his balance. He was doing great. His routine looked perfect. Why was he doing so perfect? What was wrong with him? If the problem wasn't Dad, if it wasn't affecting Leo, then it had to be--

Mikey's hand missed the bar. He never missed the bar. He didn't swing far enough and his hand didn't make contact. 

He missed. He fell.

He never fell.

It didn't hurt. They had all this matting for a reason-- for exactly this reason, in fact. There wasn't even any heavy thud of contact, no wind got knocked out of him, he just flopped sadly down on his back on the padding, bouncing a tiny bit, staring up at the bars above him.

He fell down. He never fell down. He missed. He never missed the bars. 

He knew he needed to get up. He should try again. If he didn't move, people would worry, or think he was hurt or something. But every time he told himself to sit up, his body didn't quite listen. 

After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, his older brother's face came into view. He had been expecting a coach. He wasn't sure if Leo was better or worse.

"Well that wasn't very razzmatazz," Leo remarked with a grin, leaning over and offering a hand to the other. "Here, c'mon. I'll help you up."

Mikey sniffled a tiny bit. His body didn't listen when he told it to grab Leo's hand, either.

"I wanna go home," he finally got his mouth to move.

"What?" Leo immediately protested. "Oh, come on, little brother, we just got here. We've still got two hours left of gym time! You love gymnastics. You're not gonna let one little fall get to you, are ya?"

"I wanna go home," Mikey repeated, because he didn't know what else to say. His voice sounded horrible. What was the matter with him? This wasn’t even what he wanted to be saying. He didn't want to talk to Leo like this. He did love gymnastics. This wasn't him! He didn't act this way. Why was he acting this way? He blinked rapidly, hoping that it would help somehow.

He didn't want to look at Leo anymore, so he didn't. But he heard him sigh. He felt the gym mat shift as Leo slowly moved to lay down next to him, until both of them were staring up at the ceiling like silly little animals stuck on their backs, unable to flip back over.

Like...

I dunno, like beetles or something.

"We can go home if you want to, Mikey," Leo said, and Mikey hiccuped softly, wrinkling up his nose.

"Sorry," he bit out. "... We c-can stay if you want. I can stay."

"Nah. It's fine. We should go home," Leo repeated, finding Mikey’s hand and squeezing it shortly. "Sorry. For dragging you out."

Mikey shook his head, sniffling a bit. Ugh, crying on your back sucked. His nose was all full of gunk. 

"I like gymnastics," he said weakly, and Leo laughed.

"Yeah, I know. That's 'cause you're really good at it."

Mikey nodded kind of numbly, crossing his arms over his chest, clinging to himself slightly. 

"Everyone is acting like nothing's wrong," Mikey whispered.

"Yeah," Leo sighed through his nose. "It's weird, right? I keep seeing people on the street and being like... Oh my god. They don't even know. They have no idea. And, like, I don't even know what's going on with them, either. Like. You know that lady we sat next to on the subway? I kept thinking, I dunno, maybe her dad went missing once, too, and we don't even know. How much shit do we just not know?"

"Leo, what if he doesn't come back?"

It wasn't like Leo was bad at hugs. It's just that he wasn't as good at hugs as everyone else. There was a very clear ranking, and yes, Mikey did keep track, like a reasonable person. At the very top of the ranking, obviously, was Raph. Raph gave the best hugs-- He scooped you up and swung you around and you got all squished and squeezed in the best way possible. Absolutely top-tier. Second best hugs were Dad, because, well, they were Dad Hugs. Dad Hugs had a special quality to them. He really didn't think he had to explain himself any further. Next up was Donnie, not necessarily because Donnie was good at hugging or anything, but just because he was so rarely down for hugs that every time he got one it was special. It felt like he was winning something-- especially since he got Donnie hugs more than anyone else in the family. April hugs were next, because while she gave really good hugs, and she always let him cling to her for as long as he wanted, her glasses could be a bit pokey at times. And then Leo brought in the rear-- not because he was bad at them, but just because the competition was so stiff.

But this was a really, really good hug. Two really's.

The absolute second Leo had him wrapped up in his arms, Mikey just dissolved into sobs, before he even had a proper chance to try not to. He was just so tired of feeling scared like this. If Dad wasn't going to come back, could they just know already?! He hated waiting. He hated not knowing! He just wanted to tear the band-aid off so that he could mourn and then get better. This was worse than their Dad being dead, he thought to himself. He almost wished that he was just dead, and that this could at least be over. Wasn't that horrible...? How could he feel that way?

 He was pretty sure Leo was crying, too, but he couldn't really tell for sure. He was clinging way too tight to see anything. 

"It'll be alright, Mikey." Leo's voice was muffled, but he could hear him all the same. "We'll be okay. Dad would never stay away from us on purpose. We'll figure it out."

---

They had been getting a lot of takeout since Dad went missing. No one really felt like cooking-- not even Mikey, and Leo couldn't even blame him. He wouldn't wanna cook, either. He barely even wanted to eat. And there was pizza in front of him. That was a big deal.

 This was their third Jupiter Jim movie marathon night in a row, but Leo wasn't the least bit excited. He was trying hard to pretend like he cared about which title they put on, to keep up with all the running jokes they had, to pay attention, but his heart wasn't in it. No one else's was, either, he knew. They hadn't even been able to convince Donnie to come out of his room and join them since the first night, much to his frustration.

 It was all just distraction. They were just smoke-screening themselves to pretend like everything wasn't awful, and frankly, Leo wasn't even sure who it was benefitting anymore. Clearly not Mikey. He had gotten it back together by the time they started heading home from gymnastics and had made Leo swear to secrecy, insisting that he 'didn't wanna worry anyone.' Leo had told him that that was stupid, that everyone was already worrying anyway, and pretending like he was fine wasn't gonna make a difference, but if he was being honest, he and the rest of the family rarely won any arguments against Mikey, so... 'keep it between them' it was. 

It was stupid. He wasn't fooling anyone. None of them were. 

And yet here he was, playing pretend right along with them anyway. He was such an idiot. 

As was rapidly becoming routine, they all stayed up long enough to watch three Jupiter Jim movies while eating whatever dinner had been ordered that night before everyone headed off to bed, saying keywords and phrases like 'I dunno about you guys, but I’m exhausted' and 'it’s getting pretty late,' etc etc, even though Leo was pretty sure no one was sleeping. He certainly wasn't. And he was really trying. He swore he was, but... 

Even under the best of circumstances, sleeping was hard. He had never understood how Dad or Mikey could just fall asleep the way they did, laying their heads down on their pillows and almost instantly drifting off. Sleeping involved so much work, so much effort, that sometimes it just felt easier to call the night a wash, take the all-nighter and go from there. Yes, he had tried meditating. Yes, he had tried Melatonin. He had tried sleep podcasts, white noise machines, drugs, music-- he swore he had tried it all! And none of it fixed the problem. Some of it helped, sure, but nothing consistently guaranteed him a full night's rest. Every night it was just a roll of the dice; a total blind bag. Some nights, he would sleep, and some nights, he wouldn't. It was anyone's guess.

Including his.

He wouldn't have put money on going to sleep that night. But he did.

He had no idea what made him realize that he was dreaming, but at some point, he did. He couldn't even tell you what had been happening before that point, because now, he didn't remember. Had he been outside? It had been cold. It had been dark, and there was water nearby, but he didn't think he had been outside. Somewhere else, but... He wasn't sure where.

But now, he was in their house. Right in their living room. Leo frowned a bit, looking around slowly. It was odd for their house to be this quiet. 

He paused, looking at the family pictures hanging on the walls in abundance. Someone had written something on them in black marker, but he couldn't read it. It was in plain English, but he had no idea what it said. He leaned in a bit closer, narrowing his eyes, trying to translate, when a cry ripped his attention away.

"Blue!"

He knew that voice. Eyes widening, Leo whipped around to face his father-- on the ground not more than five feet away, pinned beneath some hulking stranger with jagged horns erupting from their head, their eyes glowing white and their jaws dripping with foamy blood.

"Dad?! Hang on!" He tried to jump forward, to reach out for him, but his legs wouldn't move. Why wouldn't his legs move?! His dad was right there-- right there in front of him! He could help him! He could save him, so why wasn't anything working?!

"Blue!" The same howl tore through his mind, and Leo hissed, clapping his hands over his ears as if that would help. He didn't want to watch. He didn't want to watch this creature kill his father-- he couldn't do it. 

This is a dream, he reminded himself. You're dreaming. If you don’t want to watch, then you have to wake up. Wake up. Wake up now!

He could see it-- almost feel it-- his own body laid out on his bed back in the waking world, curled up on his stomach, his cheek to his pillow. He knew exactly where he was. He could see his room. He knew he was dreaming, so why couldn't he wake up? He couldn't get his body to move at all, repeatedly trying to sit up, to open his eyes, to jolt a limb to the side to no avail. The pitch of the screams shifted higher.

"Come on! Wake up already! I know you can hear me!" He cried, gritting his teeth. He knocked his fists angrily against the side of his head. "Move. We have to move!" He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, tasting blood, and he wasn't sure if that was his dream self or his actual self. How was he supposed to tell the difference? "Move!"

Leo startled awake, his head jerking upwards and his limbs splaying outward in surprise. The entire house was quiet. Right... because it's the middle of the night. Because he was dreaming.

He had just been dreaming, and now he was awake. It was fine. He was fine.

Slowly, he sat up, running his hands through his hair with a sigh, rolling his head a few times to try to work the stiffness of his neck. He reached for his phone, knowing it would be plugged in on his nightstand, except... It wasn't there. 

 Leo frowned a little bit, wrinkling up his brows. His phone wasn't there. In fact, his nightstand wasn't there either. His bed wasn't even there, he realized with a start. He wasn't in his own room. He was on the floor-- the floor of-- somewhere else in the house, he guessed. How the hell did he get here? Had he sleepwalked? That was new.

 He noted, vaguely, that whatever room he was in wasn't nearly as dark as he would have expected. There was this warm golden-orange glow blanketing the room like a nightlight, and Leo thought vaguely that someone must have accidentally left a desk lamp on or something, turning to take a look.

He had not been expecting to see his youngest brother floating half a foot above his own bed. Nor for him to be glowing.