#ain’t got nothing to do with the meds

[andsoshespeaks]

29.04.24 2:23AM

i love writing letters i love finally being able to journal again i love this aliveness i feel the sun now i feel the moon i feel fucking everything and i love leaving little notes in the morning by the bed i love waking up without dread i love when you’re in my head i love that i was never dead for all the shit you said simply led onto something i’m proud to have bled for ,,,

[deityofhearts]

please send me fall the fuck asleep vibes thanks

[puckinghischier]

Falling

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader gets hurt and nico is worried about her

notes: y’all i ain’t gonna lie, i went through a bit of a rollercoaster while writing this. i loved it at first, then halfway through started hating it, then somehow started loving it again towards the end. so if it seems a little all over place i’m sorry. also i know very little about how a dislocated shoulder works, so just pretended i didn’t if i got anything wrong. i hope y’all enjoy it!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “A hears that B got hurt and rushes over in a panic to see if they are okay” where reader maybe gets in an accident or gets hurt in their sport (nothing major). Bonus points if you add “I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.”

[4.5k]

part 2

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Nothing’s broken, just a nasty dislocation,” you attempt to calm your mother’s nerves, trying to unlock your apartment door with your good arm while balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. “They reset it for me and told me to follow up with my primary care on Monday. Gave me some pain meds and sent me on my way.”

“Well, what about until then? What if you need help? What about work? How will you drive?” she rapid fires questions at you.

“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Since it was a work-related injury, I’ll still get paid. And they’re paying all of the medical bills, so that’s all taken care of,” you make your way into your apartment, shutting the door with your foot behind you. “Everything else I’ll handle as it comes.”

She doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer, tsking into her phone, making you picture her trademark displeased headshake.

“What about Nico? Why don’t you stay with him until you’re back to 100%? I’m sure he’d be willing to help out,” she suggests, her tone switching from worried to suggestive.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed.

“Mom, how many times do I have to tell you, Nico and I are just friends. We work together. Just because you think you saw him look at me a certain way when you were visiting doesn’t mean I have to call him every time something goes wrong,” you tell her, placing your bag on your kitchen table.

Ever since your mom came in a few months ago to visit, she’s been on your case about making a move on Nico, it all starting when she witnessed Nico helping you across the ice during a pre-game practice while trying to get some action shots.

You work as a photographer for the Devils, not realizing that being able to ice skate would have been a nice addition to your resume.

Your college advisor arranged the interview for you right before graduation. You had no previous knowledge of hockey, having come from a football family. You told your advisor this, but she insisted you didn’t have to know anything about a sport to be able to take good pictures of it.

During the interview, you made sure to inform your now boss that you didn’t know how to skate, hoping it wouldn’t be a problem. He assured you that you could take pictures from the stands or the players bench, the chance of you having to step onto the ice slim.

For the first few months of your job, it was smooth sailing. You were mostly taking pictures from the camera holes in the glass or being told to cover locker room and arrival pictures. You worked with one other photographer, a seasoned sports photography veteran named Phil. Phil was a New Jersey native, having grown up skating, so he took over the duties of any major action shots the director wanted from on the ice.

Unfortunately for you, Phil’s wife had convinced him to retire early, losing his help right before the league’s short Christmas break.

Seeing as they had just hired you, and it was the middle of the season, the hunt for a replacement for Phil was put on the backburner, more important team matters taking precedence.

You were forced to take over Phil’s duties, meaning you were now responsible for any on the ice shots. You had found a way to slowly scoot across the perimeter of the rink, staying out of the way while also getting the shots you needed.

Your system was working well until the morning of a gameday, having gotten permission from your boss to bring your mother along to this particular practice, wanting to show her all aspects of your job.

For this particular game, the players were especially focused on practicing their skills and running drills during morning skate. You were doing your typical shuffle while clutching the edge of the waist-high wall when someone came zooming past you, causing your feet to start sliding uncontrollably, not being able to find your footing on the slick ice.

You felt the moment you were about to fall, waiting for the impact of your butt on the cold ice, but it never came. You felt yourself fall into a body covered by plastic pads, gloved hands shooting out to grab your upper arms.

You looked up, seeing Nico smiling down at you in amusement.

“It’s a bit slippery out here, huh?” he jokes, making sure you’re standing steady on your feet before letting go of you.

“Well, we are standing on ice, so….” You trail off, grabbing onto the wooden ledge again, preventing another near fall.

Nico laughs, looking down and shuffling his skates back and forth.

“Well would you look at that? We are on ice ” He flashes a smile, looking back up at you.

You stick your tongue out at him, earning another chuckle from the team’s Captain.

“You know, most people use these great things called ice skates when they try to walk on ice,” he tells you, lifting one skate up for emphasis.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff out a “Oh wow, why didn’t I ever think of that?”

“Just some food for thought,” Nico shrugged as he placed his foot back down on the ice, skating in a little circle, as if to say “See, told you so.”

You let go of the ledge to cross your arms, forgetting that you needed the stability. When you try to shift your weight from one leg to the other, you lose your footing again, this time falling forward into Nico. You let the camera in your hands fall, grabbing onto his biceps to stay upright, thankful for the camera strap around your neck.

His hands shoot out to grab your forearms.

“You know the sad thing is, even with the skates, I’d still be as clumsy, considering I have absolutely no idea how to use them,” you tell him, the two of you still holding on to one another.

Nico shakes his head at you, placing one of your hands on his forearm, moving you from in front of him to beside of him.

He starts slowly skating towards the bench while you shuffle your feet along, putting all of your focus on keeping yourself upright until you reach your destination.

When you finally reach the bench, you step off of the ice and let out a breath of relief.

“Thanks, Cap. Would’ve hated to make a fool of myself out there while my mom’s watching,” you thank him, looking over to where your mom sits, a smile on her face.

Nico follows your gaze and waves to your mom, matching her smile.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we? What if she found out her daughter was a skating fraud?” he teases, leaning in to whisper the last two words.

“It’s her fault for never taking me to the rink my town would throw up once a year at Christmas. Who knows, maybe I would’ve been a skating prodigy if given the chance,” you shrug.

A mischievous smile makes its way onto his face. “I think we should put that theory to the test,” he tells you, causing your eyes to latch onto his.

“Come again?” You raise your eyebrows and tilt your chin down.

“I mean, I can’t have some photographer out on my ice during practices that can’t even stand up,” he keeps his tone light, making sure you know he’s just teasing, “So, I’m going to teach you how to skate, and see if you really would have been a skating prodigy.”

He skates off, winking before resuming his practice.

You don’t have a chance to speak to him again until after the game, when you get at text from an unknown number reading “Rink, tomorrow, 2pm. I’ll bring skates, just bring your prodigy skills.”

After that, you meet with Nico twice a week for skating lessons.

The two of you quickly form a friendship, Nico bringing you coffee on gamedays and you slipping him snacks on the bench during games. You even started inviting him over for dinner after your lessons, insisting the least you can do is feed him to repay him for preventing you from making a fool of yourself on the ice.

Today, however, you did make a fool of yourself on the ice.

You were standing behind the net, telling the players to skate towards you so you could get some shots for the team’s Instagram account by request of the social media manager.

Once you were pleased with the amount of shots you had gotten, you left your spot from behind the net, skating slowly towards the benches, still a little wobbly on your skates.

You were looking down at your camera, thinking of how you’ll have to get Nico out here after the game to get some shots, knowing he’s currently doing pre-game interviews in the locker room.

You weren’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the pucks littering the ice in front of you, skating right into one and losing your balance, holding your camera up with one arm while trying to catch yourself with the other.

You felt the way your shoulder shifted, crying out in pain as players turned and started rushing towards you on the ice.

The team doctor came out and told you he was pretty sure your shoulder was simply dislocated, but sent you to the hospital to make sure nothing’s broken.

The ER doctor confirmed your diagnosis, putting your shoulder back into place before pumping you full of pain meds and placing your arm into a sling.

Which leads you to where you are now, back at your apartment, explaining to your mother why Nico can’t be at your beck and call.

“Honey, when are you going to realize that boy is in love with you? I’m telling you, the way I saw him look at you that day I came to visit, the skating lessons and dinners,” she starts, giving you her typical speech when you tell her Nico is just a friend.

“Mom, it doesn’t matter what you think you saw, we’re seriously just friends. And he’s busy, his schedule is too hectic to spend his time babysitting me,” you interrupt her, not wanting to hear her Nico speech for the thousandth time, regretting ever telling her about the skating lessons.

She sighs into the phone.

“I’m just trying to help you, you know…” you hear your mother start, but you tune the rest of her words out, focusing on the three loud knocks on your front door.

Your head turns to your door, the unexpected noise causing you to jump, the sudden motion tipping your bag over, the contents spilling all of your kitchen floor.

“Honey, are you alright? What was that?” your mom halts her one-sided conversation, worry in her tone.

“Shit!” you exclaim, watching the container of memory cards fly open, the small squares sliding across the linoleum floor.

You forget about the sling on your arm, crouching down and trying to reach for the cards with your bad arm, a searing pain shooting through your shoulder at the movement.

Letting out a loud yelp, you bring your arm back to its resting positing in the sling.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Did you hurt yourself?” you barely hear your mother’s voice through the phone speaker, not being able to think about anything other than the throbbing pain in your shoulder.

You hear three more pounds on your front door, this time a voice following the knocks.

“Y/N! Open up!”

You groan, trying to stand up, too many people trying to get your attention at the moment.

“Honey, talk to me. Is someone in there with you? I heard another voice,” your mother asks you as you stand, making your way over towards your front door.

“Someone’s knocking on the door,” you grit through your teeth, trying to think about anything but the pain in your shoulder. “I dropped my bag and tried to pick something up with my bad arm. I’m fine. Just hurts,” you tell her, opening your door to see a frantic Nico standing there.

His wide eyes scan your body, stopping once they see the sling on your arm.

You notice his wet hair and lack of socks on his tennis shoe covered feet.

“Are you okay? They told me you had to be taken to the hospital before the game started, but no one knew what really happened,” he rushed out, looking up at your face.

“Hey, Mom, gotta go, Nico’s at my door,” you tell her, a little stunned that the object of your conversation just appeared, hanging up the phone before she could make any comments about it.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you ask him, pointing towards his feet, an amused smile on your face. The shock of seeing him at your door making you completely forget about the pain in your shoulder.

Nico looks down at his own feet, looking back up at you with red cheeks.

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t find my socks after the game and i couldn’t get you to answer your phone, so I rushed over to the hospital to see if you were still there, and they told me you left about an hour ago, so I hopped in my car and came over here to make sure you were okay,” he tells you, not meeting your eye.

You’re shocked at his confession, not expecting him to be so concerned about your impromptu trip to the hospital.

“Well, I’m here and still standing,” you awkwardly stand in your doorway, not knowing what else to say, thinking about how if you weren’t arguing with your mom over Nico on the phone, you might have gotten his calls.

“Yeah, I see that now,” he shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

The two of you stand there, not really knowing what to say to one another.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask him, moving out of the doorway to let him step into your apartment.

Nico shakes his head yes and walks past you, looking towards the mess on the floor in your kitchen.

“What happened here? Is this the crash I heard?” he asks you.

“Yeah, the bag fell and spilled everything. When I went to pick it up, I forgot and used my bad shoulder,” you gesture to your slinged arm.

Nico shakes his head at you, crouching down to pick up the camera disks all over the floor.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to-“

“Well you’re sure as hell not trying to pick them up again,” Nico interrupts you, standing and placing the now full box of disks on your table.

You roll your eyes at him, walking over towards your fridge.

“So, what exactly happened? Jack told me you hurt your shoulder?” he follows you over to your fridge, watching you scan its contents, or lack thereof.

“Well, I was looking at my camera and skated right into a bunch of pucks on the floor, then was too focused on saving the equipment instead of remembering how to fall properly,” you told him, remembering his words during your first skate lesson, telling you not to catch yourself if you fall on the ice.

“See, I told you to just let yourself fall. Never try to catch yourself,” he echoes his words in your thoughts.

“Yeah, well, it’s a lot easier said than done,” you deadpan, shutting your fridge door and looking at Nico.

Your stomach growls at that exact moment, making you groan at your lack of food in your fridge, not having eaten since before your accident.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” Nico asks you, looking down at your growling stomach.

“Uhhh, breakfast?” you recall.

Nico’s eyes widen. “It’s almost midnight. Did they really not feed you at the hospital?” he asks you.

“Considering they were busy doing x-rays and scans to make sure nothing was broken or torn, no,” you walk over to your cabinets, finding them also bare.

“Alright, go sit down and I’ll order us something to eat,” Nico shoos you out of the kitchen, walking over and opening the drawer where you keep all of your takeout menus.

You wonder how he knows where your menus are, forgetting for a moment that he’s over at your apartment at least twice a week after your skating lessons. Sometimes more, the occasional movie night making its way into your weekly routine.

“What do you want? Sushi? Chinese? Burgers?” he questions, flipping through your menus.

For some reason, your brain chooses this moment to register how much you enjoy the sight of Nico in your kitchen, looking through your takeout menus and offering to order you dinner.

You think back to all the times he’s helped you make dinner, laughter filling every moment of your time together. You think about how he always wear his pjs when he comes over for a movie night, bringing a different chocolate candy to put in the popcorn each time. You think about how he somehow learned your coffee order without you ever telling him, bringing you a coffee every morning, even at away games.

You think about your mother’s words, and how you didn’t even have to ask Nico to come over tonight, or to give you skating lessons. You think about how you never have to ask Nico to do anything he does for you – which is a lot, you’re realizing – he just does it. He does it because he wants to, because he’s kind and caring and wants to spend time with you.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N, what do you want for dinner?” Nico snaps you out of your sudden revelation.

“Sorry, spaced out for a second. Must be the pain meds,” you tell him, knowing that your mind isn’t the least bit impaired right now.

“Okay, go sit down, we need to get some food in you then,” he fishes his phone out of his pocket, mumbling out “Can’t believe they pumped you full of meds on an empty stomach.”

You make your way to your couch, sitting down and taking your shoes off, making yourself as comfortable as you can.

You remove a stray piece of hair that fell onto your face, knowing how awful it must look.

When you fell on the ice, the claw clip that was holding your hair in its up-do broke, causing it to fan out over the cold, wet ice. Once you got to the hospital, you were put in and out of so many different machines, you can only imagine the tangled, matted mess it is.

You get up and go to your bathroom, finding your brush and trying to comb it out. The task proving to be difficult with only one hand. The tangles keep pulling your head back and hurting your tender scalp, but you keep trying, whimpering each time the brush gets stuck on a particularly bad tangle.

You don’t even hear Nico approach your bathroom, just a sigh and “I told you to sit down,” before the brush is taken from your hand and you see Nico’s reflection behind you in the mirror.

Without another word, he proceeds to brush your hair for you, ensuring every tangle is gone before setting the brush on your sink.

The two of you make eye contact in the mirror, neither one wanting to break the silence during the surprisingly intimate moment.

You clear your throat, looking down after the silence got too intense, causing Nico to avert his eyes as well.

“I really wish i could wash my hair, but i know that’s a no go tonight,” you chuckle, wishing your bathroom was a little bit bigger in this moment.

“I can braid your hair for you,” Nico starts, staring at you in the mirror, watching your eyes snap up to meet his. “I mean, only if you want,” he stutters out.

“Really?” you ask him, a little stunned.

“Yeah. I used to help Nina with hers all the time when I was younger,” Nico mentions his older sister, grabbing your hair lightly and starting to section it off. “Anytime she would have a sleep over I would always weasel my way into the party. So one day, she made me sit in a braiding chain and learn how to braid her hair.”

You let out a giggle, picturing a smaller version of Nico sitting at the end of a line of girls, braiding their long hair.

“Then, Nina claimed I got so good at it she always wanted me to braid her hair before her volleyball matches, then her friends all started wanting me to do theirs, too,” he continues talking, nearly lulling you to sleep with the soft movements of his hands as you listen to him speak.

“I think that’s adorable,” you quietly speak, closing your eyes.

“What can I say? When a pretty girl needs her hair braided, who am I to keep my skills to myself?” he jokes, making you wonder if he meant you or his sister’s friends.

“I’m sure it’s any little boy’s dream to have an entire volleyball team at his mercy, all those pretty volleyball players begging him to play with their hair,” you tease him, handing him the hair tie that you always keep on your wrist.

“I don’t know, I think playing with a pretty photographer’s hair is better, if you ask me,” he ties the hair tie around the bottom of the braid, reaching up to pull the braid loose, making sure it’s not too tight.

You keep your eyes closed, knowing he can likely see the redness on your cheeks at his words.

“Alright, eyes open. Need to make sure you like my work,” he places his hands on your biceps, making sure to keep his touch feather light on your bad arm.

He turns you around so you’re facing him, holding a handheld mirror that was laying on your sink in front of your face, allowing you to see the reflection of the braid.

You’re shocked to see the flawless Dutch braid that cascades down your back.

“Nico, you’re like…really good at this,” you reach your good hand to the back of your head, running it down the braid.

“Told you, I had a lot of practice,” he shrugs, setting the mirror down.

You yawn, the relaxing nature of having your hair braided allowing you to realize how tired you are from the day’s events.

“Nuh-uh, gotta keep you awake until we get some food in you,” he tuts, taking his hands and patting your cheeks.

You groan, leaning into his palms that stay resting on your face.

“C’mon, let’s get you changed and on the couch,” he motions for you to leave the bathroom.

You walk to your room, Nico helping you carefully remove your sling before leaving and giving you some privacy.

You change into your pajamas, somehow managing to get your arm into an oversized Devils shirt you found at the bottom of your drawer.

Nico is standing outside of your door when you open it, helping you back into your sling.

He stands in front of you, staring at you with a look that you can’t decipher.

“Is…everything okay?” you question him, noticing his stare after adjusting your sling.

His eyes snap up to you, seemingly unaware that he was even staring at you in the first place.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I just- is that my shirt?” he asks you, pointing to your pj shirt.

You look down at the oversized shirt, trying to think of where you got it.

It had just showed up in your laundry basket one day, assuming it was one they gave you when you got your job, but Nico’s question makes you think harder.

You realize, suddenly, you do remember where you got it.

During one of your post lesson dinners, Nico had spilled his drink all over his shirt. You offered to wash it for him after he changed to a shirt in his duffel.

You meant to take it back to him after you washed it, but forgot about it entirely, packing it away in your pajama drawer.

“Oh, crap, it is. Do you want it back, I can go change?” you ask him, worried he’s upset that you forgot to give it back.

“No…no it’s fine. Keep it. I have plenty,” he shakes his head, glancing down at it once more.

The two of you make your way to your couch, finding something to watch on tv when there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of your food.

You start to stand to go get it, but Nico sternly tells you to stay put.

Rolling your eyes you sit back down, grabbing the remote and continuing to channel surf.

Nico’s gone for longer than you expect, causing you to sit up and turn back towards your kitchen, wondering what’s taking him so long.

You see him walking over to you, a tray full of food in his hands.

He had ordered from your favorite sushi place, figuring it would be the easiest for you to eat one handed.

As he sat down the tray on the coffee table in front of you, you realized what took him so long.

Nico had put a toothpick in each piece of your sushi, knowing using chopsticks with your non dominant hand would have been hard for you. He poured soy sauce into a small container, allowing you to simply pick up each toothpick and dip it in the sauce before popping it in your mouth.

He had also ordered you a bottle of cherry coke, which he knew was your favorite, and placed it on the tray with the lid unscrewed and a straw peeking out of the bottle next to a glass of ice, just incase you wanted it that way instead.

You looked up at him, feeling that funny feeling in your chest like you did earlier in your kitchen, blown away at how he always seems to think of everything he can to help you out, even when you’re not injured.

You must’ve been looking for longer than you realized, because he cocks his head at you, confusion present on his face.

“What?” he asks, not understanding what’s wrong. “Did you not want sushi? I thought you said it was always the one thing that could cheer you up?”

You shake your head at him. “No, sushi is perfect,” you tell him, a small smile on your face as you look up at him.

He smiles back for a few moments, then started scooting the coffee table towards you so you don’t have to reach to grab your food. He moves around the table to sit beside of you, the size of the small table causing him to sit so close to you that you can feel the warmness of his large thigh against yours.

You once again think about all of the things he’s done for you without you even having to ask. Now including coming over after a game—no doubt exhausted and sore—and taking care of you without even thinking twice. Braiding your hair and calling you pretty. Staring at you unintentionally wearing his t-shirt. Modifying your food so it’s easier for you to eat with one hand.

You sit there, staring at the man you fear you’re falling in love with, already planning out the apology text you’re going to have to send your mom.

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai

✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.

✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.

✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.

I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to. 

 I won.

 I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.

 Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.

 Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing. 

 But fighting is all I know. 

 I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.

 Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter. 

 It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else. 

 Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle. 

 She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend. 

 Shit, me too. 

 However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses. 

 Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.

 Great.

 Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes. 

 I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.

 “Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”

 After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.

 “What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”

 I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”

 “Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”

 “Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask. 

 “You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”

 I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”

 She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment. 

 Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless. 

 Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him? 

 Me. But that’s besides the point.

 A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment. 

 “Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself. 

 While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.

 I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment. 

 “I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected. 

 “Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”

 She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”

 I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face. 

 She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.

 I’m getting hard.

 Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her. 

 That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.

 And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her. 

 Either way, I’ll act on it.

 Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds. 

 “You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.

 I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”

 The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”

 “Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”

 She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”

 I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”

 “That came out my mouth, Abarai?”

 “Why are you still mad at me?” 

 She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story. 

 Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”

 “Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise. 

 “Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”

 “Probably because you love me.”

 “Probably not.”

  Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty. 

 Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.  

 And she knows it. 

 I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me. 

 We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking. 

 “So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.

 She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”

 “You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”

 “Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest. 

 “If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”

 She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together. 

 How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.

 So—I take advantage of it. 

 In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.

 I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss. 

 Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me. 

 The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give. 

 “Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss. 

 “Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.

 She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.

 Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as. 

 Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.

 “You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”

 She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”

 “Shit, angel. I will.”

 Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.

 I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy. 

 I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me. 

 “Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”

 Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”

 And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight. 

 I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us. 

 This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers. 

 “Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.

 Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.

 I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back. 

 Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock.  Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.

 “Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”

 I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”

 “Please.”

 God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this. 

 In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual. 

 It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it. 

 I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy. 

 This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want. 

 My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”

 “Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”

 I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.

 I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her. 

 Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.

 “Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”

 “Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”

 “Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”

 Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily. 

 My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.

 I’m about to come. Hard.

 But I need her to come first.

 “Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts. 

 “Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”

 She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back. 

She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.

 Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even. 

 And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors. 

 My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”

 Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.

 “Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound. 

 She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me. 

 My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”

 “You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”

 Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.

tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)

[planchettewrites]

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)/AFAB!Reader

DESCRIPTION: You're having an anxiety attack, and Remy finds you and helps you calm down.

CONTENT: Anxiety Attacks, Can Be Read as Platonic/Romantic, AFAB!Reader in mind, but no actual pronouns are used.

A/N: I wrote this in forty minutes, so in all honesty, it's probably not very good. I had this idea last night after I was having some serious anxiety. Gambit is truly a comfort character for me, so I hope that you can find some comfort in this too.

552 words | Safe!

Remy’s arms were tight around you as your erratic breathing was nowhere close to beginning to steady itself. He found you only two minutes ago when you had dropped to your knees in the middle of one of the winding hallways of the mansion. Anxiety was flooding your body in a way that felt overpowering—like the crashing waves of an oceanic storm. You trembled and shook, and the only thing keeping you tethered to this planet was the arms around you. 

“Shh, it’s all gonna be okay, chérie; Gambit’s right here.” he cooed, rocking you both gently back and forth. Your chest was tight, and your brain felt scrambled. Nothing was right, and nothing felt okay. Today was a long day, and now it was ending with an anxiety attack.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to steady your breathing. Your arms were wrapped around Remy’s arms, attempting to keep him as close to you as possible. He was your current lifeline, and you’d be damned if you were going to let him go. With your head pressed against his chest, you tried to listen to his heartbeat. If there was one thing he was good at, it was keeping calm, and his heartbeat reflected that. Slow and rhythmic, his heartbeat gives you a more relaxed rhythm to focus on. 

His grasp around you tightened as you let out another plaintive cry. “Oh, sweetheart, I know. Keep tryin’ to match my breathing; you’re doing so well. I got ya, and I ain’t letting go.”

You try to steady your mind and listen to his breathing; his chest’s gentle rise and fall gives you an anchor. “I’m sorry,” you sputtered out. Part of you felt guilty for all of this. Remy didn’t need to be here comforting you; he could be off doing God knows what with God knows who, but here he was, spending his time with you. Attempting to bring you back to Earth. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, darlin’.” he smiled. “You just keep focusin’ on my breathin’. Gambit’s not leavin’ until you feel better.”

It took a few minutes, but you could feel your breathing begin to slow. Remy still rocked you both back and forth and kept his breathing slow. This didn’t go unnoticed by the man whose arms were keeping you safe, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Great job, chérie, keep breathin’ with me. You’re doin’ amazing.”

What felt like an eternity later, and your breathing finally returned to normal, you shifted to face Remy. He showed you a gentle smile. “You did so good, and I’m so proud of you.” he unwrapped his arms from you to wipe the remnants of your tears. With another gentle movement, he helped you back to your feet. “Let’s get you to the med-bay; you can lie down there.”

“Please don’t go,” you muttered. “Please.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Remy grabbed your hand and walked you toward the medical wing of the mansion. He was true to his word; he didn’t leave your side the whole time. He kept you grounded and steady the entire walk there and helped you lie down on one of the beds, tucking you in gently. 

Inevitably, he was right. Things were going to be okay. 

[dystopyx-blog]

Bro I think so hard about being in TWST without meds but specifically with Floyd. The way he just, doesn't care. You're tired? Awww how sad, he wants to play with his favorite shrimpy. You think he doesn't care at all until you hurt yourself and suddenly he's shackled to your side.

I just got like brain blasted by the SH post due to my own spiraling and like tjis idea alone has given me so much comfort

bro Floyd comfort…. I mean he is literally a comfort character for me, if it isn’t obvious lol. I’m really really glad I could give you some comfort! Genuinely, that gives ME comfort. Especially since my yandere twst posts are also meant to give me comfort, so the fact they do the same for others warms my heart.

It’s so surprising the first time Floyd comforts you. He approaches you, going “hey hey hey, what’s the matter with shrimpy? :(“ and you try to tell him it’s nothing. “Ain’t nothin’ if it got shrimpy sad. Tell me what’s wrong.” And to your surprise he sits and listens. And he’s a good listener, at least for you in that specific moment. He doesn’t interrupt, he doesn’t make fun of you, he sits there and hums to let you know he’s listening. You find yourself spilling everything to him, it’s surprisingly easy to. Maybe you shouldn’t have, maybe he’ll just use it all against you in the future, who fucking cares, this is what you need right now. For a second you wonder if this is actually Jade using Shock the Heart on you somehow. But no, it’s Floyd. A seemingly very out of character Floyd? After pouring your heart out to him, he hits you with a sympathetic stare. “Damn, shrimpy,” he says, “that really sucks…”

Then he gets up and you assume, that’s it, he’s gonna leave me here now. But he offers you a hand and a grin. “C’mon Shrimpy, I’m gonna cheer you up.” ‘And he will try his damndest to do just that, taking you all over campus to find something to lift your spirits. But really, the very process of hanging out with him and watching him try to find something to do with you is enough to have you smiling. You end up in the Mostro Lounge, Floyd promising to get ya whatever you want. Unfortunately, Jade is the one to take your order, which means, of course, you’re subject to his needling. But then Floyd shoos him away. And later, when Azul himself appears at your table, hoping to get his suckers on useful information, Floyd glares at him and tells him to leave you alone. “Great Seven, why can’t anyone just leave us alone? Cant they see I’m tryna spend time with my shrimpy?” And maybe you don’t realize it at the time, still so caught off guard from what seemed to be a total flip in personality, but he meant it when he called you his shrimpy. If you were anyone else, he wouldn’t have given a fuck, it’s only because you were you that Floyd was at all invested in your feelings. Cuz everything about his shrimpy is interesting and entertaining. That’s why they’re his. You notice Floyd hangs out with you a lot more after that, stuck to your side like glue. He’s awful for ADD considering his sudden swings in mood. You get distracted, but it’s even worse with him because once he’s in the mood to do something he just does it. So you’ll be trying to focus on work, and he’ll be there because he’s basically always with you at this point, and he suddenly decides you two have to go do this random thing right now. It’s the same when you’re in depressions, too, he’ll drag you along. It’s surprisingly helpful, though. It’s hard to be bored with Floyd, which makes sense considering how much he hates being bored. So even without your antidepressants… well, at least you have Floyd Leech??

[zirconika]

if you're up for it, would love to see a mildly angsty fluff daryl x reader piece where reader is one of the people at the prison who gets hit with the flu and while daryl is explaining the plan to go get the meds, reader jokingly asks if he can bring back a treat if she promises to be a good patient. cut to the aftermath of the prison fall and reader ends up getting out with help from michonne before they run into rick and carl and eventually reunite with daryl during the stand off with the claimers. the next morning daryl and reader finally get a moment to themselves to just breathe for a second and daryl pulls out a lollipop he had found back at the gas station when they were on the medicine run and shyly hands it over to reader

five seconds

⇚ NAVIGATION || MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader WORDS: 5.3k SUMMARY: Guilty for arguing with you right before you fell ill, Daryl’s determined to make it up to you by fulfilling your request. His goal to deliver it to you is interrupted by the fall of the prison and the intrusion of the Claimers. WARNINGS: angst to fluff. nose bleeding. expect mean daryl, i got mean daryl fever from crush by @ghostboneswrites2. attempted sexual assault during the claimers scene, basically the violence that took place during that particular scene.  A/N: yes i am up for it i love love love this idea!!! i added my own twist to it too :)) so sorry it took three days i had no idea how to start it hsejkrkwa also it ended up being longer than i intended for it to be. hope u like it nonnie ! reblogs are appreciated!

     Friends do things for each other, that’s just the way it is. Rick Grimes hands you a gun? Friends. Carol Peletier offers you a bowl of soup? Friends. Daryl Dixon looks at you for five long seconds before going to sleep? That’s… That’s classified.

     Okay, friends. You might have been reading into it.

     Friends—It’s what you tell yourself what you are with the archer whenever you volunteer to earn your keep alongside him who, for some reason, seemed to be blatantly avoiding you ever since that damned staring session. 

     It wasn’t the length of the stare. It was how he looked at you and how you felt yourself looking at him. The two of you were just returning to your respective cells, expecting the other to say goodnight only to end up staring at each other. The worst part is how it ended. 

     It was so quick that you could have missed it, but Daryl Dixon’s eyes fell to your lips for a split second before he turned away to hurriedly retreat to his cell. You tried not to think about it too much, but Daryl deliberately and very obviously dodging you made it hard to forget. 

     When you went out to hunt together as per routine, you expected to hold at least a conversation half a minute long. You missed talking to the archer, you had to admit it to yourself at least. Which is why it pissed you to the bone that the next time you ever talked again was the next accident.

     “I had it under control!” you yelled at the archer, who didn’t seem to be too interested in your defenses. At your feet lay a walker whose head had served as a target for a bolt you knew all too well.

     You watched as Daryl made his way over to you, fury evident in each step. “Hell ya mean under control? Ya ain’t cut out for huntin’! Ya should’ve sensed that walker from a mile away.”

     “Woah, woah,” you humorlessly exclaimed, “I’ve been hunting with you since like, ever. The fuck you mean ‘I ain’t cut out for huntin’?”

     “‘Cause ya aint! Could’ve gotten yerself killed, woman.” What was he so mean about?

     You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right to some degree. If he hadn’t arrived in time, you would’ve been dealing with the aftermath of a walker bite by now. But it did not give him the right to speak to you like that. “Oh, you are not talking to me like that.” 

     “Just did,” he spat. “Now ya listen to me. Yer gonna return to camp and yer gonna—”

     “Sit around and do nothing?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You want me to knit you some sweaters, too? Make you holiday cookies?”

     “Guard the damn fences,” he said. Daryl stepped forward to grab you by your arm. You dodge him before he could get a hold of you, glaring at him as you did so.

     “I can walk by myself, thanks.” Before disappearing into the woods to return back to the prison, you flipped the guy off. What was up with him? You angrily mumbled to yourself, “It was just a walker.”

     It’s been a while since that happened, and this time, it was you who didn’t dare to speak to him. You didn’t want to be the first one to approach him. After all, you did nothing wrong. And yet he had the audacity to avoid you again.

     But it wasn’t that there were zero interactions, though. There were a handful, however blood boiling they were. You exchanged a couple glares whenever your eyes landed on one another.

     The worst one was when Patrick extended his hand to Daryl in front of you while he thanked the archer for his contribution. After Daryl shook his hand, you had to butt in, standing up while eating a bowl of oatmeal instead of the cooked meat. 

     “Well, that’s Daryl! Isn’t he just great, Carol? Such an amazing huntsman!” you mused sarcastically, giving the three of them the brightest smile you could. Daryl could only watch as you walked away from the scene, his eyes drilling a hole at the back of your head as you kept going on and on: “I don’t know how I could ever compete!”

     It didn’t take long for the group to catch on the heat.

     You didn’t mind that part. What you did mind, though, was Daryl’s snide remarks whenever you’d mess up as a retort to what you’d said in front of Patrick.

     Dropped a spoon? “S’why ya can’t be outside, can’t even hold a damn spoon righ’.”

     But you weren’t gonna let that slide. Whenever he’d say something to the group, you had something up your sleeve, too.

     He found an old warehouse west of the prison? “Oh, how splendid. Daryl and his plans. Everyone say ‘Thank you, Daryl’!”

     The last rebuttal you could recall was after you finished your task digging a grave for the recent casualties. You were taking a quick break by yourself, setting your shovel aside. From a distance, you watched Glenn and Maggie continue to dig. You shuddered at the thought of turning with no warning of a bite.

     Your body was sore all over from all the digging, your throat on the precipice of getting sore, and you felt the world beneath you sway uninterrupted.

     The moment you made to leave the shovel against the wall, the world swayed even worse, sending you to Daryl’s grasp. “Damn it, woman, watch ya step. Ya ain’t gonna last long bein’ such a damn klutz.”

     “Get off my back,” you said. You jumped out of his arms, glaring at him with the default face you’d grown used to using around him. You angrily grabbed your shovel again, dismissing that you weren’t even able to have a minute. You let adrenaline overtake your need for a break. 

     You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You did at first, but it kind of grew on you.

     That was until a portion of the prison fell ill from the rampant spread of the flu. You decided Daryl wasn’t worth your time for the time being, dedicating your focus on doing what you can for the prison. You did find yourself looking out for him every once in a while, though. Just to make sure he was still healthy.

     Not that it mattered or anything.

     But you watched in horror as Tyreese held Daryl by his vest. You found yourself stepping forward, wanting to intrude but Daryl held his hand out to Rick, a way of saying ‘I got it.’

     It bothered you that you felt a sort of responsibility towards the guy, however much of an asshole he was towards you. To be fair, you were just as bad to him. But you weren’t gonna admit defeat just like that.

     “We’re on the same side, man,” he told the furious Tyreese. And after that, it was all a blur. You watched the fight unfold. You wanted to stop Rick, to hold him off Tyreese, tell him it was over, but you remained rooted to the floor, frozen.

     You could’ve sworn you felt Daryl’s gaze on you before he managed to get Rick to stop until he did. Daryl stumbled backwards, bumping into you. Shivers went down your spine when he touched you by the waist to ask you, “Y’alrigh’?”

     You looked back at him. That same look again.

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     You turned away to wipe at your nose, sniffling. Unsure of what to do, you hurriedly left the scene. Once you were far enough, you wiped at your nose again. Then came a metallic scent you just could not ignore no matter how hard you tried. You thought it was just the rust of the metal bars infiltrating your senses. 

     But when you looked down at your hand upon the third wipe, you were met by the sight of blood. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     After settling the dispute out, Daryl made it his mission to search for you before the council meeting. To his surprise, you were not in your cell, not outside, at least not anywhere he could find in three minutes. Deciding—hoping—you were probably busy somewhere, Daryl got back to the council’s table.

     Though he gave a fair share of ideas and listened intently, having even agreed to go on the run, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Before leaving, Daryl pulled Glenn aside, knowing he dug graves with you just a while ago.

     He didn’t even know why he had the urge to ask the guy, because how could he possibly have any clue of your whereabouts? But he had to ask something. “[Y/N] ever said anythin’ ‘bout stuff she had to do or somethin’?”

     “I don’t think so,” said Glenn, getting ready to seclude himself as well. “She’s probably isolated herself by now, too.”

     “Isolate herself for what?” Daryl scoffed in a poor attempt to disguise his concern. Glenn watched him as if he were a madman.

     “You didn’t see her this morning?” he asked the archer, who then said he did. The longer Glenn paused, the more Daryl followed. “She’s caught it, too.”

     At that moment, Daryl understood his routinely misdirected anger—why he felt his heart practically burn a hole through his chest at the sight of that walker almost getting you, why he could no longer stomach bringing you along with him on runs and hunts, and why he let his stares linger.

     Daryl Dixon understood why he kept his distance in fear of letting whatever it was he felt fester, burying it deep within himself where even he could not find it. Until he discovered that he had a bigger fear—a phobia, even.

     The thought of losing you. And it was all the more clear to him now as he peeked through the small window to find you gripping one of the bars of a cell, keeping steady. You’d gotten weak since the last time he saw you, and he thought back to when you furiously went back to work after he’d interrupted.

     He felt a guilt like never before, feeling responsible for your condition.

You caught sight of him from afar, and your eyes locked. 

     One.

     Two.

     You gestured to the visitation room. He nodded.

     Finding yourself face to face with Daryl Dixon afterwards divided by a glass partition was something you didn’t expect you’d ever have to experience. You didn’t even think he’d care enough to take the time to do so.

     Ever since you shared that long second stare, you’ve been wondering when you’d ever have the luxury of sharing it again. But even you couldn’t hold it for that long. 

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     “Go on, lay it on me,” you said.

     You longed to hear his typical insults, the ones you were used to hearing by routine. Instead, Daryl, took a deep breath and told you, “M’sorry. ‘Bout everythin’.”

     Safe to say that you were taken aback. You opened your mouth to tease him about it, but you had to look away as you felt the itch in your throat begging to be scratched inside. You coughed out loud, and Daryl couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of you.

     “What, no ‘yer hideous,’ ‘serves ya righ,’ or even ‘fuckin’ idiot’?” you asked jokingly, attempting to make an impression of the way he talked. 

     “S’why I didn’t want ya out there,” he said, ignoring your attempt at triggering that part of him. It went out the minute he realized you were on borrowed time. “Didn’t want ya to risk yer life for some pig meat.”

     You realized he’d gotten serious. You took your seat across from him, scrutinizing the way he looked at you. “Oh, and you’re allowed to?”

     He shrugged. “Yeah, ‘cause I ain’t an idiot like you.”

     “There it is,” you chuckled. Daryl laughed along with you, and it was the first time in a long time that you’ve laughed together. And when the moment passed came that damned stare again.

     One.

     You couldn’t hold it. “I don’t know how much time I have left so… Thanks for coming.”

     Daryl snorted. Though he laughed, he was just as scared as you are. Maybe even more scared. “Ya ain’t gonna turn. We’re gonna head out ‘n get some meds. There’s a vet college some ways away from here, and I’m gonna make sure stupidity ain’t gon’ be the reason ya die. Ya ain’t dyin’, that’s final.”

     “They got everythin’ there?” you asked.

     “I dunno, Hershel gave us a list. Said it should have ‘em.”

     “You know how things are, right? How everything usually doesn’t end up going the way you want it to. So…” You didn’t know what to say anymore. “On the off-chance it’s limited, I don’t want to hog any of it.”

     “Whaddya mean?” the archer asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. He didn’t like where this was going.

     “I mean that if there’s a shortage, I’m fine not getting it. I’ve been with these people for half an hour and… Daryl, they deserve a second chance. They want to survive.”

     “And ya don’t?”

     “I don’t know,” you confessed, sniffling. You weren’t crying, but your stuffy nose made it hard to breathe just as badly. Daryl’s heart sank. His guilt just kept growing knowing he’d been unreasonably rude to you just this morning and every morning that came before. “It gets tiring at times, but it does get fun when you spend it with the right people. But then again, who knows how long you’ll be having any of those, too?”

     Daryl opened his mouth to say something only to take it back the instant he thought of it. I’m not gonna let ya die. He stuck to his stubborn script instead. This is what Daryl was avoiding; the burden of caring. “Yer gonna take the meds whether ya like it or not.”

     You couldn’t help but smile at his stubborn drive. It was one of the many things you admired about him. “What, you’re gonna be all mean to me again if I don’t follow your instructions, Doctor Dixon?”

     “Doctor wha—?” He stifled a laugh to no avail. It was through that moment that you found out that Daryl’s laugh was music to your ears. “Nah, we’re way past that. M’gonna start a new method. Ya do somethin’ good, ya get somethin’ good instead of gettin’ somethin’ bad when ya do somethin’ bad.”

     “So reward punishment,” you suggested with a smile. 

     “Exactly.”

     “So,” you began, “if I promise to be a good patient…”

     “Uhuh,” he nodded.

     “If I take the meds…”

     “Mhm.”

     “You’re gonna give me a treat?” You resisted the urge to joke about a kiss. It felt too early, and you worried it would spook Daryl away and ruin the moment.

     “Yep.”

     “Really?” you asked, grinning wider that it almost seemed as if you never even caught the flu. “Like, one of those lollipops they give out after a vaccine just so you stop crying?”

     Daryl had no idea what you talked about, having never experienced getting one good check-up his whole life, depending his health on whatever remedies he and his brother can fashion on their own. But you seemed to be thrilled about it, and that was enough. “Yeah, like that.”

     You pretended to consider it for a while, acting like you were deep in thought. “Alright, we have a deal, you fucker.”

     He smirked. “Wipe that stupid smile off yer face.”

     And though you didn’t take it too seriously, Daryl was already hatching a game plan he could use to find one for you the moment you mentioned it. After all, he was a man of his word.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     Daryl Dixon was one of the few people who valued solitude. This time, though, he found himself craving company long after the fall of the prison as well as when he lost Beth. 

     Thus, the universe sent the worst possible group to accompany him—the Claimers. Even he realized the change within him when he realized the difference in how he’d choose his company now and before.

     It shook him to his core that he would have chosen this group had he not met Rick’s, had he not met you. As he and the Claimers made their way through the roads in search of the perpetrators they sought to give a piece of their mind. 

     Daryl decided he’d ride with the Claimers for survival, thinking to himself he’d be fine coasting with them for just a little while until he found the right opening to leave. That was, until he discovered that they’d been hunting the same group Daryl had been looking for, but with different motives.

     “Hold up,” Daryl said carefully, so as to not rile the leader who had Rick dangerously at gunpoint. 

     “You’re stopping me on eight, Daryl,” the leader accused. You felt your heart sink from where you were, fearing how the scene would unfold. You held Carl’s hand to comfort him, but it was just as well an attempt to comfort yourself. Carl returned the sentiment. 

     Daryl stepped closer with caution. “Let’s hold up.”

     One of the guys holding a shotgun opened his mouth. “This is the guy who killed Lou, so we got nothin’ to talk about.”

     “Carl,” you whispered under your breath, not daring to move to even look at the kid. You could only hear a bit, but the silence in the car and the slightly opened windows was enough to let you hear a bit.

     “The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time,” the leader said. He kept his eyes on the archer. “Say your piece, Daryl.”

     “These people,” Daryl started. “Yer gonna let them go. These are good people.”

     You felt your heartbeat pick up its pace upon observation that the group’s leader was unimpressed. “Now, I—I think Lou would disagree with you on that. I, of course, would have to speak for him and all because your friend here strangled him in the bathroom.”

     You whispered again, frozen in place. “Carl, I need you to get in the back. Slowly.”

     “You want blood? I get it,” Daryl said. You watched as the archer dropped his crossbow and threw his arms open. The fuck is he doing? “Take it from me, man.”

     Carl slowly brought his legs up to him, trying not to make a noise.

     Daryl kept coming closer. “Come on.”

     “This man killed our friend.” By the look on their leader’s face, you knew there was no way this would go in peace. “You say he’s good people. See now, right there is—is a lie.”

     “Carl, hurry,” you whisper again. But his attempts at doing so is halted by the events that followed.

     Daryl dropped his arms to his side, realizing the same as you. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle your frightened yell as one of them hit Daryl with the butt of a shotgun. You could only watch in fear as two of the men dragged him to the hood of the car you and Carl were in.

     As they beat him shitless, Daryl looked up to find your face staring right back at him from inside the car. For a moment, he thought he was seeing you as he approached death, but his eyes widened in terror realizing you would be involved in the scene. 

     A wave of relief and dread coursed through him; relief that you had gotten out of the prison and dread that he wouldn’t be able to protect you this time. 

     The door swung open and a man yanked Carl out before you could even reach him. “C’mere, boy.”

     “Carl!” Your door swung open as well, one of the men tackling Daryl just seconds ago hauling you off your seat as you tried to put up a fight. 

     “You leave him be!” you heard Rick yell over the commotion.

     The man pointing a gun to Michonne wasn’t afraid to make his threats and intentions clear either. “You get yours. You just wait for your turn.”

     You felt the threat of a knife to your throat and you got a whiff of a mouth that reeked of booze. You felt your perpetrator’s warm breath tickle the lines of your neck, taking you in.

     You were terrified of what he’d do to you, what they’d do to Carl. “Let him go!”

     “Not so fast, hot stuff,” the man taunted you, toying with your hair. 

     “No, get off her!” Daryl exclaimed as his assailant pinned him down as another guy ruthlessly beat him up. Daryl didn’t care.

     “Listen, it was just me. It was just me!” Rick admitted, desperately trying to bargain for his group’s freedom.

     “See, now, that’s right! That’s not some damn lie! If we can settle this, we’re reasonable men.”

     “First, we’re gonna beat Daryl to death. Then we’re gonna have the girls, then the boy. Then I’m gonna shoot you and soon we’ll be square!” 

     You heard Daryl yelp as they beat him. “Stop hurting him!”

     The leader of the gang looked at Daryl, then at you. His fucking stare made your blood run cold. “Maybe we can keep little Daryl here for a while, give him a little show. Make him watch.” His laugh sent ripples of unease throughout your body even as you were thrown to the ground, the man getting on top of you. 

     “No!” you heard Daryl exclaim as he put up a harder fight to no avail, his body already weakened. More so was yours.

     “Claimed!” the man yelled, his eyes already feasting on you.

     Everything was… You couldn’t think anymore. You felt your legs part open, and with it your head throbbed. The lack of sleep, the hunger, the thirst, everything was coming down all at once. You could only hear the wicked cackling of their leader, Rick yelling at the man to let go of his son—

     Then it was ringing in your ears at the sound of a gunshot. And yet the nightmare didn’t end. You didn’t like it. Didn’t like any of it. The sniffing and the giggling… The hands on your waist as they trailed down… 

     You thought of nothing. Perceived nothing until you felt the hands gripping your body start to loosen. Maybe you were gone already, maybe… This is the end. 

     The weight on top of you was gone altogether, and you could hear Rick’s furious grunts as he plunged a knife deep into the throat of the man who took Carl. You looked up to find Daryl tussling with the man who was just on top of you.

     “Daryl…” You were slipping in and out of consciousness, and a couple steps from where you lay you saw the two other men who’d been beating Daryl just moments before splayed unconscious on the cold concrete road.

     The ringing in your ears was louder as you watched your assailant fall to the ground, and Daryl shoving his foot down his head in vengeance.

     You lay there among the leaves, tilting your head up to the sky, only grateful Daryl was fine. He ran to you as soon as he did what he saw he had to do.

     “[Y/N],” he called, scooping you into his arms and away from the floor. You wanted to stay awake, to ask him how he was, to confess you were scared shitless and you were tired of pretending you weren’t…

     The last thing you could remember was Daryl holding you as you let slumber take you away.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     When you awoke, you thought you were back in the prison. For a split second, you thought you just had a horrible nightmare. As your eyes began to adjust to the sun, you realized you were in the front seat of the car with the backrest inclined for your comfort.

     Michonne’s presence in the backseat told you otherwise.

     “Michonne?” You looked around to find no one else. The windows were covered with different cloths, too. You looked down on her lap to find Carl fast asleep while Michonne caressed his face. “How is he? How are you?”

     She looked up at you, an undeniable sorrow in her eyes. She was just as tired. “I’m fine. He’s shaken. What about you?”

     The events of the night before flashed before your eyes. You had to shake your head to be rid of it. You needed air. “I’ve been better, I just need air.”

     Michonne nodded, respecting your distance. “Rick’s right outside.”

     “And…?”

     “Daryl?” she asked, to which you nodded meekly. Michonne gave you a reassuring smile. “He stayed with you the entire time, he stepped out just now. He’s fine.”

     “Oh, okay.” Fixing your hair, you returned her kind gesture with a warm smile as well. “I’ll just go get some fresh air, I think I need it.”

     You swung the door open and hopped out. Once you walked forward, you jumped in shock. You didn’t expect to be in the same place from when everything happened. Just in time, Daryl popped out from the other side of the car. “You alrigh’?”

     The corpses were still splayed out flat on the concrete and beside the road. You had to look away from the grotesque scene, your heart pounding. “Yeah, I’m fine—I’m okay.”

     “You sure ‘bout that?” he asked. Daryl gave Rick a knowing look before patting him on the shoulder. Rick nodded, letting the archer know that he’ll be fine. Daryl moved towards you and tapped you by the shoulder. He took back his hand the moment you flinched, instinctively recoiling to physical touch.

     “Sorry, I’m just—I know I don’t need to feel that way around you, it’s just—”

     “I get it.” Daryl understood; he was there when it happened. But he’d make sure he’d also be there after. His hand hovered behind the small of your back. “May I?”

     Daryl waited until you nodded before he let his hand rest on your back to guide you away from the mess.

     “Let’s take a walk. Have some water,” he said, handing you a half empty bottle. You took big gulps religiously, craving its feel in your throat. “Thank you.”

     You hand the bottle back to him only to realize that you had drunk all of its contents. “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

     “Nothin’ ya gotta apologize for.”

     You only nodded in response, still troubled by everything. 

     Daryl halted, gently touching you by your wrist. You’d never felt that sort of tender touch before, and it was easy to miss it once it ended. “Hey, I—uh, I almost forgot.”

     “Hm?”

     “Y’know, the terms of our agreement.” You watched as Daryl fumbled with himself, and a laugh escaped you. He seemed to be flustered with what he was about to do, but you could tell he’d been anticipating doing it by the pace he was searching. He checked his shirt pockets. When he dug into his jeans’ front pocket, he pulled out something small, then extending his hand to you. “M’sorry I only got two, I wasn’t sure what flavor ya wanted and I accidentally got them in the same flavor and there were walkers and I know it ain’t an excuse but—”

     You took it. You kept eyeing the two lollipops in your hand. It was both strawberry-flavored, and it was one of those jumbo ones that were slightly bigger than the regular ones. “Daryl, that was a joke. You didn’t have to” — you snorted, a smile breaking on your face — “actually get me one.”

     “Nah, I’m a man of my word.” Daryl returned your smile. “I say m’gonna get ya somethin’, then m’gonna get ya somethin’. Simple.”

     “Well, then,” you said, handing him the other one. “You get the other one.”

     “Nah, it’s yours.”

     “No. Get it.”

     “Nah,” he said.

     If Daryl was stubborn, you were nothing compared to him. You stuffed the other one in his pocket. “There. And don’t even try to argue with me on it, I wanna have it with you.”

     “Alright, alright.”

     Heat rushed to your cheeks. He really did bother. You continued walking, Daryl followed.

     “Ya don’t have to open it now, we need to get ya some more water first so yer throat doesn’t get sore again.”

     “Thought this was my treat?” you teased. “For being a good patient?”

     “Yeah, well, doctor says you should lay off it for a bit ‘til ya get some more to drink.”

     You snorted. “Oh, yeah? What doctor.”

     Daryl pointed to himself. “This doctor. Doctor Dixon.”

     “You like that a lot, huh?”

     “Actually, I hated it but… S’kinda growin’ on me.”

     After you shared a laugh. There was that goddamn lingering stare.

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     Daryl turned around, afraid the heat in his cheeks were possibly giving away how he felt with a faint blush. “We should—Whaddya say we head back?”

     “Sure, wouldn’t wanna have you going down on one knee to propose,” you joked.

     “Shuddup,” he said, lightly punching your shoulder. 

     On the whole way back, you talked together, just like you always did whenever the two of you were out hunting. Speaking with Daryl made everything else matter a little less that you don’t even realize how far you’ve gone until it comes into your mind.

     While walking the tracks with Rick, Carl, and Michonne, the two of you walked slightly behind. 

     “I’m just saying, if we get to this place, it’s not gonna—!” You shrieked as your feet caught on one of the sleepers of the tracks. To your relief, Daryl caught you with his hand holding yours and his other hand assisting your waist.

     The three turned around to check on you both. Rick called out, “You alright back there?”

     “Yeah! We’re fine!” he said back. You were worried Daryl would drop your hand. He didn’t.

     When no eyes lingered on either of you anymore, the stare you’d been yearning for returned, leaving you to wonder what would break it this time before it could reach five.

     One.

     Two.

     Three.

     Four.

     Five.

     To your surprise and your relief, Daryl smiled at you. And oh, did it feel melting. It was hard not to return his smile when it was so damn contagious. You were sure your heart was doing gymnastics at this point, feeling it beat so hard against your chest.

     “What’re you looking at me like that for?” you asked the archer.

     “Yer still fuckin’ clumsy as fuck,” he remarked with a teasing smirk.

     He’d been dying to hear you laugh again, so he’s relieved that you do. “Welcome back. Thought you said you had your whole new justice system in store?”

     “Well, doctors still gotta scold their patients, especially when the patient in question is an idiot.”

     You rolled your eyes. “You have any rule in your book about doctors holding their patients’ hands? Y’know, like, ‘Don’t do that’?”

     Daryl looked down on your intertwined hands, pretending to scrutinize it with careful thought. “I dunno, I think if the patient’s fine with it, then the doctor’s fine with it, too.”

     You did the same only to look back up at him with a grin. “Patient says it’s fine. Is the doctor fine with it?”

     “Doctor Dixon says it’s recommended to keep his patient healthy.” 

     “Patient has a request, though,” you tell him as you use your other hand to pull out your lollipop from your pocket. “She wants Doctor Dixon to share a treat together.”

     “Doctor Dixon says, ‘What the hell’.” He does the same, pulling his lollipop out. You had to let go of each other’s hands for a bit to take off the wrapper before throwing it away. Daryl was the first to take your hand, eager to hold it again. You let him.

     Throughout the entire journey to Terminus, all your fears and worries were at bay, all because Daryl never let go of your hand. The two of you talked about the sweetness of what you were having, how it was a great change from what you were used to eating. And it was right then and there that he knew he wanted to be holding your hand whenever, wherever, and however long he could.

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[precious-little-scoundrel]

IM SORRY DID U SAY YOURE WORKING ON A FIC ABOUT “COP BIG DADDY ELVIS”?!?- please tell us more because this sounds like the greatest thing ever 😭

I did, Mon ami, I did indeed…welcome to the demented 2009, sweaty and non famous cop AU that @eliseinmemphis and myself cooked up in our feral yearnings one night.

Edit: it’s here

Allow me to lay a bit of the setting for us all, and maybe even throw in a few lines from the draft below.

Life is insular when you’ve been born and raised in a trailer park. A little El Paso suburb was never a thriving metropolis, what with its gas stations and dollar stores on the way to nothingness in the desert, but the recession didn’t help none. Your dreams of buying a car that might actually make it above 120 mph and not guzzle your wages in gas is a far off dream when you learn from officer Presley that your entrepreneuring father has been incarnated for racketeering across in Juarez. It’s a shame, a damn shame but it hardly throws a wrench in your life, you were already used to making it however you could. When workin’ at the trucker’s club turns into something a lil more illegal and Elvis has his morning waffle ruined by Joe Esposito yacking about the powers of your pink tongue…he feels a little responsible for leaving you without a father figure. He’s got top notch swamp coolers in his trailer, plenty of food and tiger figurines out front -and he’s got an interest in fast things, just like you.

You could do worse than shack up with such a fella; not that he’s offerin’ but you can tell by the flicker in his eye and the smirk of his lips that he’s as susceptible as the next guy watching you on the pole. Except this sweet, world weary cynic just might screw your gooey insides up worse than any threat or ogle from another man.

Snippet:

“Well, well officer Presley, finally got persnickety about laws, have ya?” you observed to yourself with a grin as you watched the handsome man swagger towards you along the white line in your side mirror, tugging at his pants as he neared, trying to shimmy the article of clothing a little higher but is impeded by his belt, stopped by his sizable belly, his holster and buckle sitting under the bulge of it.

Your mouth watered. It had been a year or two since you saw him last. He was always built, intimidating to all the stupid rascals he keeps in line along the border, but now he had become outright fat and his khaki shirt pulled apart between each button. Yet when he came up to your window, that little boy grin was still gracing one of the most exquisite faces known to man, and his voice was tender and playful when he greeted you, just as you once recalled. You could see his sweaty hair, matted on his chest and belly between the gaps, his underarms had massive pit stains, doubly apparent thanks to the light color of his police uniform.

Your smile had something of the she-wolf in it as you greeted him, sniffing the air in hopes of catching a whiff as he leaned on your window frame, nearly crowding you from outside. “Hey Miss Sweet Cheeks,” he greets, “you know why ya been pulled over?”

“Haven't got a clue, officer.” You stated the truth and enjoyed the way his title rolled off your tongue in a bantering way. It was easy.

Officer, officer. Somebody important and authoritative. No sir, yes sir, Officer.

His left eyebrow quirked and you wondered what he looked like at twenty five, how devastating that expression would have been before his wound and his meds and the water retention. Whatever power it may have once held, it holds nothing to this slightly bemused, slightly cynical world weariness that shows in his every expression now, that had a twitch of an eyebrow making you feel a fool. “You’re goin’ seventy in a forty five, Miss.” his tone was patient even as his face suggested he’d like to tan your hide for being so reckless. “Reckless endangerment of others, and yourself,” he quoted sternly, “it ain’t no small matter and I don’t countenance it on my highway.”

Gosh, you just loved it when he laid claim to government property like highways and interstates. It helped you smile meekly at him and nod.

“Sorry officer, I got lax.” You purred, batting your eyes and you could see the heavy flap of their coal coated weight in your periphery. “I’ve seen you lettin’ me flyby on the interstate. I guess I thought…”

[loonarmuunar]

Epithet side effect headcanons that somehow turned into disability stuff while I was writing 👍👍 (these are kinda angsty I did not intend for that to happen but uh here we are—)

Molly — sometimes if she overuses her epithet, it can almost “nullify” her mind in a sense, giving her short-term memory problems on occasion. Usually it’s mild and doesn’t have much effect, just normal everyday forgetfulness, but when it’s bad, her head gets really fuzzy and she can’t focus or remember anything, she gets awful migraines and headaches, and she has a sort of feverish mind (y’know like when you’re so sick ur head feels Weird and u can’t Brain right). It’ll go away pretty quickly as long as she rests, but uh. We know she ain’t getting much of that.

It’s really Stressful and frustrating for her, because she KNOWS she forgot something but she can’t remember WHAT in the slightest.

This doesn’t happen very often thankfully since she doesn’t strain her epithet much, it’s like a once-every-few-months kinda thing.

Giovanni — got this one from a fic, Giovanni has a lot of sodium in his blood (cause soup, salty) which gives him wonky blood pressure, and it causes chronic nosebleeds. I like this one a lot cause I used to get nosebleeds on like a weekly, and in the summer, daily basis as a kid.

He got his first nosebleed in late spring when he was about 5 or so, just running around outside. He didn’t notice (and trust me when I say it can be HARD to notice) for a LOOONGGGG time. He ended up losing a LOT of blood. When you get a nosebleed it can sometimes run down into your throat and you’ll start spitting up blood it’s Uncomfortable and Gross. Anyways he went back home, went “hi moms :3 *soaked in blood, choking up blood*” andddd they Freaked Out.

He’s anemic because of it, and has to take iron meds. If he forgets to take them he gets really dizzy, and if it’s particularly bad, he can faint.

Sylvie — Narcolepsy. And insomnia. You can have both (and from what I know, they often go hand-in-hand), and he is Not having a good time.

He’s exhausted during the day, he tries to take stimulants to stay up but they don’t always work. When it’s night, he can’t go to sleep for the life of him, and if he does, he wakes up very often. It’s Not Fun. Sometimes he just gives up, and sleeps all day, then works all night.

Mera — We know the side effects, but I’m gonna mess with it a bit (aka I’m projecting). The muscles around her joints are really weak and frail, meaning it’s looser, so she has Hypermobility. Possibly also Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. She’s got a lot of joint pain on top of her regular pain.

She’s got it b a d, if lifts her arm up too high it’ll jerk and she’ll be like “oh yup. Dislocated again.”

She’s absolutely COVERED in bruises and scars, whenever she has to get stitches it constantly tears. She heals horribly. She’s starting to develop arthritis as well.

Medication usually doesn’t do anything for hypermobility related pain, if you’re lucky it’ll take the edge off. Indus helps her out with heatpads and stuff, but other than that, she just has to tough it out.

Indus — nothing. Have u seen this man?? He probably drinks disgusting high vitamin smoothies every morning, he eats full proper meals, dude is in PEAK CONDITION. If he did have any side effects it would be completely negated by his sheer healthiness. Diseases and conditions fear him.

He is however that One Person who is prepared for Everything and will help u if u need it. He carries medication and heatpads for Mera in case she forgets them, as well as bandaids and antiseptic wipes. He’s just a Good fella… <33

[mcrdvcks]

Sweet Dreams - Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Alexandria continues to try and find her place in a world not meant for her.

Word Count: 7.9k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x Original Female Character (platonic relationship)

Notes: thank y'all for the love on Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious! as i said on that post, don't be afraid to send in a request or ask.

anyways, back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Series Masterlist - Chapter 2 → Chapter 4

AO3 Link For Chapter

Charles gave Alexandria the week off to catch up on sleep and to make sure she was healthy. Hank had also made a smaller version of the headband, making it into a small metal piece that sticks onto the middle of her forehead.

When asked about how much sleep she usually got with HYDRA when she was let out of the med bay, she was afraid to answer. She wasn’t quite sure how much sleep normal people got, mutants or not.

So, she had told the truth, around every 2 and a half weeks.

Logan had heard her words, and though he didn't say anything, his face tightened in that familiar way that indicated frustration. He couldn't imagine getting by on that little sleep, even with all the crap he’d been through. For a moment, he almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

"Two and a half weeks, huh?" Logan finally muttered, crossing his arms as he looked at Alexandria. He didn’t sound surprised, just tired. Tired of all the messed-up things people had to endure in this world, himself included.

Alexandria nodded, her expression guarded. She wasn’t sure if she should have lied, since lying came naturally to her, thanks to HYDRA.

“Yeah, sometimes longer,” she said quietly. “If they were feeling generous.”

“Generous,” Logan repeated, the word dripping with sarcasm. He shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. “That’s one way to put it.”

Hank had walked in just in time to hear the last part of their conversation. He was holding a tablet, likely containing her medical records, or maybe some new tech he was working on. "Logan, Alexandria," Hank greeted them with a nod before turning to Alexandria. "I was just going over your vitals. The new headpiece seems to be working well, but we’ll need to keep monitoring you. If you feel anything unusual, let me know immediately."

Alexandria looked down at the small metal piece now attached to her forehead, a far cry from the cumbersome headband she had worn before. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but it still felt foreign. Like a reminder of the control she had lost, and might never fully regain.

"Okay," she said, her voice steady but distant. "I’ll let you know."

Logan grunted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "She tell you how much sleep she was gettin' with HYDRA?" he asked Hank, though it was clear he was still talking to Alexandria in a way.

Hank glanced up, eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Not much, I presume?”

"Try every two and a half weeks," Logan replied flatly. He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t make it sound like a big deal, but the impact was there all the same.

Hank’s expression darkened. “That’s...well, that’s beyond cruel. It’s inhumane.”

Alexandria shrugged, as if it wasn’t worth discussing further. "It was what it was," she said simply. There was no point in dwelling on it. That was her past, and she had no interest in letting it dictate her future—whatever that might look like.

Logan, on the other hand, didn’t seem quite as ready to drop it. "You don’t gotta act like it’s no big deal," he grumbled. "Ain’t no one here who’s gonna judge you for what you went through."

Alexandria shot him a sharp look, her eyes narrowing. "I’m not acting like it’s nothing," she said, her tone defensive. "But there’s no point in crying over it either. It’s done. Over."

Hank exchanged a glance with Logan, who just shrugged. It wasn’t like he was going to push her to open up. He sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate it if someone tried to do that to him.

"Fair enough," Logan finally said. He could respect her need to keep things close to the chest. Hell, he lived his entire life that way. "Just don’t go thinkin’ you gotta handle everything alone. You’re part of this team now, whether you like it or not."

Alexandria raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that supposed to be comforting?"

Logan smirked, but there was no real humor in it. "Take it however you want, kid. I’m just saying, you don’t have to go through this by yourself."

Hank cleared his throat, stepping in before the conversation could get any more tense. “Logan’s right. We’re here to support you, Alexandria. But if you need space, we’ll respect that too.”

“Yeah, well, space is something I’m used to,” she replied, her voice cold but not unkind. She wasn’t trying to push them away; she just didn’t know how to let them in.

“Gettin’ used to other people is part of the deal,” Logan pointed out, though he didn’t press the issue further. “Just...take it slow. No one’s expectin’ miracles here.”

Alexandria didn’t respond immediately, her eyes drifting to the window where sunlight filtered in, casting long shadows across the room. The idea of taking it slow was foreign to her. Everything with HYDRA had been fast, brutal, and unrelenting. But now, she wasn’t sure what to do with all this...time. Time to think, time to feel. Time to figure out who she was outside of the person HYDRA had molded her into.

“I’ll try,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. It was the most she could offer, and she hoped it would be enough to satisfy them.

Hank smiled gently, recognizing the effort it took for her to even say that much. “That’s all we ask, Alexandria. One step at a time.”

But now, she was determined to catch up on the work Charles said she didn’t have to do. Alexandria wanted to do it, to prove to herself that she was capable. That HYDRA hadn’t taken away her pride.

She also knew that she needed to get more sleep. After the first three days of being out of the medbay, Hank came by and told her to sleep. He mentioned that it would be a hard habit to break, but to try and sleep every 3 nights and slowly wean herself down to every night.

When she asked how he knew, he said he had his ways.

Which meant two things, either there was some sort of sleep tracker on the headpiece, or they were keeping an eye on her. Possibly both.

On Saturday, Kitty and Jean offered to take Alexandria out on a ‘girls day’, which made Scott pout like some of the dogs she had seen in HYDRA when they didn’t get to chew on human skeletons.

Kitty was bouncing on her heels, her enthusiasm barely contained. “So, Alexandria, what do you think? We could hit up the mall, maybe get some lunch, and just hang out. It’ll be fun.”

“What Kitty means is that she wants to go to a store that sells body wash and body sprays since they’re having a major sale.” Jean added, her arms crossed with a small smirk as she looked over at Kitty.

“…Okay, maybe. But it’ll be fun! Have you ever been to one of those stores, Alexandria?” Kitty asked.

“No. Wanda and Natasha took me to the mall, but we only got clothes.” She replied.

Jean straightened up against the wall, “well then perfect, you need some body wash that isn’t just the one supplied to us.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll love smelling all the different kinds of scents. Maybe we can even get candles.” Kitty said.

“That’ll be a fortune we don’t have Kitty.” Jean sighed.

Alexandria stood up from her bed and went to her desk and opened her drawer. “Not if we have Tony Stark’s credit card.” She waved around the platinum card.

Kitty’s eyes widened as she saw the platinum card gleaming in Alexandria’s hand. “No way! Is that really Tony Stark’s card?” she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

Alexandria nodded, her expression as deadpan as ever. “Yeah.” She wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to put a damper on their spirits by saying she stole it. But Natasha did give it to her, so maybe it wasn’t stolen, more like borrowed.

Kitty practically squealed, her excitement bubbling over. “This is going to be the best girls' day ever! We can get whatever we want!”

Jean shook her head with a smirk, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You know Tony’s not going to care about the bill, but try not to go too crazy, Kitty.”

Kitty grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “No promises!”

Alexandria tucked the card back into her pocket, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t about the shopping or the credit card; it was about having control, even if just a little. She was used to being controlled, being told what to do, how to think, how to feel. But now, in this small way, she could do something for herself. And maybe, just maybe, she could learn to enjoy it.

“Let’s get going, then,” Alexandria said, her voice calm but with a hint of anticipation.

“Wait, you can’t just bring Tony’s card without showing it off,” Kitty teased, nudging Alexandria playfully. “You’ve got to make a big deal out of it!”

“Why would I do that?” Alexandria asked, genuinely puzzled. “It’s just a card.”

Jean chuckled, shaking her head. “Because it’s Tony Stark’s card. And you’re with us, which means we’ve got to make this outing memorable. C’mon, live a little.”

Alexandria frowned, her mind processing the idea of “living a little.” It wasn’t something she was used to, but she didn’t want to disappoint them. They had been kind to her, something she wasn’t sure how to handle, but she recognized it.

“I’ll try,” she said after a moment, her voice softer than usual.

“That’s the spirit!” Kitty said, grabbing Alexandria by the arm and leading her out of the room. “Let’s hit the mall!”

As they made their way out of the mansion, Alexandria felt a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She had been on missions, faced down enemies, endured years of training and conditioning, but this felt different. It was unfamiliar territory, and part of her was wary, unsure of what to expect.

The drive to the mall was filled with chatter, mostly Kitty excitedly planning out their shopping spree and Jean chiming in with occasional comments. Alexandria listened, trying to get a sense of what this experience was supposed to be like. She was used to analyzing situations, figuring out the best course of action, but this was… different.

When they finally arrived at the mall, Kitty practically bounded out of the car, her excitement contagious. “Alright, first stop: the store with all the body washes and sprays! We’re going to smell so good by the time we’re done!”

Jean smiled, walking alongside Alexandria as they followed Kitty inside. “Don’t worry, Alexandria. If this gets overwhelming, we can take a break anytime. Just let us know.”

Alexandria nodded, appreciating the gesture. “I’ll be fine.”

They entered the store, and Alexandria was immediately hit with a wave of different scents. It was almost overpowering, but Kitty was in her element, grabbing bottles off the shelves and excitedly showing them to Jean and Alexandria.

“Smell this one!” Kitty said, holding up a bottle of vanilla-scented body wash. “It’s amazing!”

Alexandria took the bottle and sniffed it tentatively. It was sweet, almost too sweet, but there was something oddly comforting about it. She handed it back to Kitty with a nod. “It’s nice.”

“Nice? It’s perfect! I’m definitely getting this one,” Kitty said, tossing it into her basket. “What about you, Alexandria? Any scents catching your eye?”

Alexandria hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She wasn’t used to indulging in things like this. Her life had been about survival, not luxury. But she knew they were trying to include her, and she didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, her voice quiet.

Jean stepped in, offering a gentle smile. “It’s okay. Take your time. There’s no rush.”

Kitty, sensing Alexandria’s uncertainty, softened her tone. “How about we try a few different ones? We can help you find something you like.”

Alexandria nodded, grateful for their patience. She let them guide her through the different options, trying out various scents and slowly getting used to the idea of choosing something just for herself.

She never knew there were so many different kinds of scents. And most of them had extravagant names like ‘Bright Moon’ and ‘Into the Stars’.

After a while of smelling the different scents, she came upon one that she didn’t think she’d like. It was sweet smelling, the back of the bottle said it had notes of fresh strawberries, golden shortcake and whipped cream.

She picked up the bottle with a hesitant look. "This one’s really sweet," she said, her tone neutral.

Kitty practically bounced over to her side. "Oh, that one’s amazing! It’s called ‘Strawberry Delight.’ It’s like dessert in a bottle!"

Alexandria sniffed it again, still unsure. “Dessert?”

Jean joined them, her smile genuine but with a hint of amusement. “It’s a little on the sweet side, but it’s supposed to be fun. It’s all about what makes you feel good.”

Alexandria raised an eyebrow. “Feel good?”

Kitty nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Sometimes, the little things can make a big difference. You might end up liking it more than you think.”

Alexandria gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. She could tell Kitty was genuinely excited about this, and despite her usual reserve, she didn’t want to ruin the mood.

“Alright,” Alexandria said, trying to match Kitty’s enthusiasm. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Kitty squealed and grabbed a bottle of the Strawberry Delight’, adding it to her basket. “Perfect! You’re going to love it!”

As they continued through the store, Alexandria found herself starting to enjoy the experience. It was a new sensation, having a say in something as trivial as body wash. It was a stark contrast to her previous life, where choices were made for her, not by her.

Jean, noticing Alexandria’s gradual shift, kept the conversation light. “So, what do you think of this ‘girls day’ idea so far?”

“It’s different,” Alexandria admitted, her voice more relaxed. “Not bad, though.”

“That’s the idea!” Kitty chimed in, her excitement undiminished. “We’re just here to have a good time and take a break from all the serious stuff.”

“I think I’m getting used to it,” Alexandria said, surprising herself with her own words. “Not that I’ll be joining every shopping spree, but... this is nice.”

Kitty’s grin widened. “See? I told you it would be fun!”

They made their way to the checkout, with Kitty and Jean chatting about their favorite finds. Alexandria, still holding onto her bottle of Strawberry Delight’, felt a strange sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t just about buying things; it was about participating in something that felt normal, even if only for a few hours.

After paying, they headed out of the store. Kitty was already planning their next stop. “So, next up is the candle shop. They’ve got a sale on all their candles, and we’ve got to check it out!”

Jean laughed lightly. “You’re really on a shopping spree today, Kitty.”

“You know it!” Kitty said, practically bouncing on her heels. “We’re going to make the most of it.”

Alexandria followed along, feeling a mix of anticipation and relief. She wasn’t used to this level of normalcy, but it felt good. For once, she didn’t have to worry about missions or expectations. She was simply... there.

As they walked to the candle shop, Alexandria couldn’t help but glance at Kitty and Jean, noting how their enthusiasm seemed to lighten the atmosphere around her. It was a far cry from the harsh environment she had come from, and though she was still adjusting, she was starting to see the appeal.

Kitty pushed open the door to the candle shop, and a new array of scents greeted them. “Welcome to the candle wonderland!”

Jean raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “You and your candles. I swear you could live in this store.”

Kitty laughed, already picking up candles and showing them off to Alexandria. “You’d be surprised. There’s something about a good candle that just... makes everything better.”

Alexandria took in the shop’s offerings, her eyes scanning the rows of candles with different scents and designs. It was almost overwhelming, but in a good way. She picked up a candle labeled ‘Serene Forest’ and gave it a sniff. The scent was earthy and calming, a stark contrast to the sweetness of the body wash.

“Do you like that one?” Kitty asked, noticing Alexandria’s interest.

“It’s... calming,” Alexandria said, her voice thoughtful. “I think I might get this one.”

Jean nodded in approval. “Good choice. It’s nice to have something relaxing to light up.”

They continued exploring the shop, Kitty picking out candles with names like ‘Ocean Breeze’ and ‘Lavender Dreams’. Alexandria took her time, carefully selecting the scents that appealed to her. Each choice was an experiment in normalcy, a small step toward finding a place for herself outside the constraints of her past.

By the time they left the store, Alexandria felt a sense of contentment she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just about the items she had purchased or the day out with Kitty and Jean. It was about the simple act of being part of something, of enjoying a moment that was her own.

As they made their way back to the car, Kitty’s chatter continued, filled with plans for their next outing. Alexandria listened, her expression more relaxed than it had been in a long time.

Jean glanced over at Alexandria, her smile warm. “You did great today. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Thanks,” Alexandria said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I did.”

Kitty gave her a playful nudge. “See? Told you it would be fun. We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“I’d like that,” Alexandria replied, feeling a sense of warmth she hadn’t felt before.

As they drove back to the mansion, Alexandria looked out the window, feeling a mixture of relief and anticipation for what lay ahead. For once, she didn’t have to be on guard. She could just be.

They ended up getting much more than body wash, body sprays, and candles. Jean had brought them to Sephora to get some expensive shampoos and conditioners, to which Kitty was very amused and happy that she was embracing Tony’s credit card.

Jean parked the car in the garage and opened the trunk, around 15 large paper bags completely filling it. Kitty jumped out of the car with the same enthusiasm she’d had all day, while Alexandria and Jean followed at a more measured pace.

“Wow, we really went all out today,” Jean said, looking at the overflowing bags. “I think we might need a separate car just for the shopping.”

Kitty laughed. “That was amazing! And thanks to Tony’s credit card, we didn’t have to worry about the bill.” She turned to Alexandria with a wide grin. “You did great today. I’m glad you had fun.”

Alexandria nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It was...different. But I liked it.”

Jean reached into the trunk and started pulling out the bags. “Let’s get this stuff inside. I’ll help you carry some.”

Kitty grabbed a few bags, her excitement still palpable. “I’m going to organize everything in my room. We’ll have to compare our finds.”

Alexandria picked up a couple of bags, her thoughts already shifting. She was used to analyzing situations, but this was a new kind of experience—one she wasn’t entirely sure how to process. Still, she was trying to let herself enjoy it.

As they made their way into the mansion, Logan happened to be coming down the stairs. He spotted them with the armfuls of bags and raised an eyebrow.

“Did you ladies rob a department store or something?” Logan asked, his tone as gruff as ever.

Kitty grinned, clearly unfazed by his demeanor. “Nope, just had a really successful shopping day. We’re totally stocked up now.”

Logan’s gaze shifted to Alexandria. “You didn’t get too carried away, did you?”

Alexandria shrugged slightly, still holding a couple of bags. “Just bought a few things. Nothing extravagant.”

Logan grunted, not exactly convinced but clearly not interested in delving further. “Well, as long as you don’t turn the mansion into a store.”

Kitty laughed, nudging Alexandria playfully. “Don’t mind him. He’s just being grumpy. We had a blast.”

“Yeah, it was... enjoyable,” Alexandria admitted, a bit more relaxed than usual.

Logan’s expression softened slightly, but only just. “Good. Just keep it in check.”

With that, Logan turned and headed back up the stairs, muttering something about needing a drink. Kitty watched him go with an amused look before focusing back on the bags.

Jean and Kitty began sorting through the bags, finding places for everything they had bought. Alexandria watched them, feeling a strange mix of contentment and apprehension. It was a world so different from her past, and while it was nice, it was also unfamiliar.

“I think we should get everything organized,” Kitty said as she rifled through a particularly large bag. “And then maybe have a snack. I’m starving.”

Alexandria raised an eyebrow. “Is that something you usually do after shopping?”

Kitty laughed. “Not usually. But today is special, right? We can treat ourselves.”

Jean, who had been unbagging a set of bath products, looked over at Alexandria. “So, Alexandria, do you have any plans for tonight? Or are you just going to relax and enjoy your new stuff?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Alexandria said, her tone thoughtful. “I suppose I could use some downtime.”

Kitty grabbed a box of chocolates from one of the bags. “Perfect! Let’s all just hang out. We can watch a movie, eat snacks, and just chill. It’s a nice change of pace.”

“Sounds good,” Alexandria agreed. It was a simple suggestion, but it felt right. For once, she could relax without the constant pressure of her past life.

As they continued unpacking and chatting about their day, the atmosphere in the mansion felt lighter than usual. It was a small reprieve from the usual intensity, and Alexandria found herself appreciating the moment more than she would have admitted.

Later that evening, as they settled down with snacks and a movie, Alexandria couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude. She had come from a place where her every move was controlled, and now, in this space with Kitty and Jean, she was starting to find something like normalcy. It wasn’t perfect, and she still had a lot to work through, but it was a start.

Kitty was sprawled out on the couch with a big bag of popcorn, Jean was flipping through movie options, and Alexandria found herself settling into a place she hadn’t thought she’d ever experience—simple relaxation with friends.

As the movie began and the room filled with the sound of laughter and conversation, Alexandria leaned back and allowed herself to simply be. It was a small victory, but it felt significant. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but for now, she was content.

---

The next day, Alexandria found herself holed up in her room, with a candle lit. Jean taught her how to light the candle without needing a lighter. All she needed to do was use a little bit of her telekinesis to light it.

She tried it, and surprisingly it worked. She had never used her powers for something so… domestic and non-threatening.

One thing she didn’t know she liked doing was reading. Alexandria may not be able to read in English, but she can read in Russian.

She bought a book called ‘Wuthering Heights’ and had been reading it since the afternoon. Her headphones were on, a song called ‘successful’ by Ariana Grande flowing through her ears, who was also someone Jean put her onto.

Her room also smelt quite good, not just because of the candle burning, but because she ended up using that strawberry body wash she got, along with the fancy shampoo and conditioner.

“Ostav' menya v pokoye. Ostav' menya v pokoye,” rydala Ketrin. “Yesli ya postupil nepravil'no, ya umirayu za eto. Dostatochno! Ty tozhe menya ostavil; no ya ne budu tebya uprekat'! YA proshchayu tebya. Prosti menya!” Alexandria murmured as she read along to the book.

Logan came to her door, it was nearing 11 o’clock at night, and he wanted to make sure she got some sleep before she went back to classes tomorrow.

He knocked and waited a few moments, getting no response. He knocked again and waited a few seconds before opening the door, seeing Alexandria on her bed, her feet in the air reading a book with headphones over her ears mumbling words he couldn’t understand.

“Trudno proshchat', smotret' v eti glaza i chuvstvovat' eti potrachennyye vpustuyu ruki,” otvetil on. “Potseluy menya yeshche raz i ne pozvolyay mne videt' tvoi glaza! YA proshchayu to, chto ty sdelal so mnoy. YA lyublyu svoyego ubiytsu, no tvoyego! Kak ya mogu?” She continued murmuring to herself as she read the book.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, his eyes narrowing as he watched Alexandria. She was engrossed in her book, completely unaware of his presence, her lips moving silently as she read the Russian text aloud. The scent of strawberries filled the room, mingling with the earthy aroma of the candle burning on her desk. It was a sharp contrast to the usual scent of metal and sweat that Logan was used to.

He hesitated, unsure whether to interrupt her or just leave her to her reading. He wasn’t one for intruding on anyone’s space, especially not when they were focused like she was. But it was late, and he knew from experience that pushing herself too hard—physically or mentally—wasn’t going to do her any favors.

He didn’t know why he felt the need to check on her, but something about her situation resonated with him. Maybe it was the way she had collapsed in the rain a few weeks ago, driven to the brink by her inability to sleep. Or maybe it was something else, something deeper that he didn’t want to examine too closely.

He knocked lightly on the door again, this time louder to ensure she could hear him over the music. Alexandria didn’t react immediately; she was too absorbed in the world of Wuthering Heights. Logan recognized the look in her eyes—he’d seen it in the mirror plenty of times before. It was the look of someone lost in their own head, trying to escape from something they couldn’t quite put into words.

“Kid,” Logan called out, his voice gruff but not unkind. “It’s late.”

Alexandria’s head snapped up, her eyes focusing on Logan as if she’d just realized he was standing there. She quickly pulled off her headphones, the music abruptly cutting off. “I didn’t hear you.”

“No kidding,” Logan muttered, stepping into the room. He glanced at the book in her hands, recognizing the language. “What’re you reading?”

“Wuthering Heights,” she replied, her tone neutral as she placed a bookmark between the pages and closed the book. “In Russian.”

Logan nodded, not surprised. “You should get some sleep. It’s almost midnight.”

Alexandria frowned, glancing at the clock on her nightstand. “I’m not tired.”

Logan crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze steady. “Doesn’t matter. You need sleep.”

She sighed, clearly not in the mood for an argument but not wanting to give in either. “I’ll sleep later.”

Logan’s expression didn’t change, but his voice softened just a fraction. “It’s not up for debate, kid. You need rest. You’ve been running yourself ragged since you got here.”

Alexandria’s eyes flickered with irritation, but there was also a trace of something else—uncertainty, maybe even a bit of fear. She didn’t like being told what to do, that much was clear. But there was something about Logan that made her reluctant to push back too hard. Maybe it was because he reminded her of herself, in a way. Or maybe it was because she could sense that, underneath his rough exterior, he actually gave a damn.

“I’ll go to sleep soon,” she finally said, though it was more of a concession than a promise.

Logan didn’t push further. He knew when to back off. “Alright. Just make sure you do.” He turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back at her. “And if you need anything… you know where to find me.”

Alexandria watched him for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Thanks.”

Logan gave a curt nod and left her room, closing the door behind him. As he walked down the hall, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Alexandria than she let on. He wasn’t one to pry—hell, he had his own share of secrets—but he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of demons she was wrestling with. And more importantly, whether she could fight them off on her own.

Back in her room, Alexandria stared at the closed door for a long moment before setting her book aside. She had planned to keep reading, to lose herself in the words and the story, but now the room felt different—quieter, more oppressive. Logan’s presence had been a reminder of the real world, of the things she couldn’t escape no matter how hard she tried.

With a sigh, she blew out the candle on her desk, plunging the room into darkness except for the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. She lay back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, her mind racing. Alexandria grabbed the metal piece Hank made her to keep out other people’s dreams and stuck it on her forehead, her mind quieting.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to relax, to let go of the tension that seemed to cling to her like a second skin. The scent of strawberries lingered in the air, a faint reminder of the small comforts she had allowed herself today. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And for now, it was enough.

---

Professor Xavier told her to meet him after classes by the Danger Room. She had never gone in it yet, only heard a few things from her classmates about it.

She met him at the door of the room as he turned his wheelchair to face her. “Ah, hello, Alexandria. I was hoping today you might be up to showing us your skills.”

Alexandria nodded, her face set in its usual neutral expression. “Sure. What do you want me to do?”

Professor Xavier gestured for her to enter. “We’re going to run a few scenarios to get a sense of your abilities in action. We’ve seen your control over telekinesis and heard about your skills with dream manipulation, but we’d like to see how you handle a more dynamic environment.”

As they entered the Danger Room, Alexandria took in the sleek, high-tech surroundings. The room was designed to simulate various environments and scenarios for training purposes. Today, it was set up like a dense forest, with trees and underbrush extending as far as the eye could see.

Professor Xavier positioned himself at a control panel. “You’ll start by demonstrating your telekinesis. Move objects, lift them, show us what you can do. After that, we’ll incorporate some elements that require your dream manipulation skills.”

Alexandria took a deep breath and stepped further into the simulated forest. She raised her hand, focusing on a large rock nearby. With a subtle movement of her fingers, the rock began to levitate, hovering in the air before gently lowering back to the ground.

Professor Xavier watched closely, nodding in approval. “Good. Now, let’s try something more challenging. I’m going to create a few obstacles for you to navigate through. Let’s see how you handle them.”

With that, the simulation shifted. Trees began to move and rearrange themselves, creating a maze-like structure. Alexandria’s expression remained unchanged as she moved through the obstacles, her telekinesis clearing a path by pushing aside branches and lifting fallen logs.

“Impressive,” Professor Xavier said. “Now, let’s incorporate a scenario where you need to use your dream manipulation.”

Alexandria raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. She was used to being told what to do, and this was just another challenge to tackle.

The environment shifted again, this time into a more chaotic scene. The trees became distorted, and shadows seemed to come alive. Professor Xavier explained, “This scenario is meant to test your ability to handle stress and manipulation. Imagine this as a chaotic dream environment. Try to bring some order to it.”

Alexandria closed her eyes briefly, concentrating. She reached out with her mind, projecting calm and order into the chaotic environment. The shadows began to recede, and the distorted trees straightened, transforming into a more stable and peaceful setting.

“Excellent,” Professor Xavier said, a note of genuine admiration in his voice. “Your control over your powers is impressive. You’ve managed to bring a sense of calm even in a chaotic situation.”

Alexandria opened her eyes and gave a curt nod. “Thanks. Is that all?”

“For now,” Professor Xavier replied. “But… if you would like I could give you a different scenario. To test your fighting skills.”

She raised her eyebrows, partially amused, partially excited. She hadn’t gotten a chance to fight since she’d been here. It had been almost 2 months of no punching bags, no guns, knives, nothing. Perhaps Charles caught onto that.

"Sure." Alexandria's response was clipped, her eyes narrowing slightly in anticipation. It had been too long since she had been given the chance to fight—too long since she had felt the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she faced an opponent. The idea of finally being able to release some of that pent-up energy was almost thrilling.

Professor Xavier nodded, his expression unreadable, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes. "Very well. I’ll modify the simulation to include some combat elements. Remember, this is a controlled environment. The objective is to assess your combat reflexes and decision-making under pressure."

Alexandria didn’t need the reminder. Controlled environment or not, she was ready to show what she could do. The forest setting around her began to shift once again, the trees and underbrush morphing into a more open space with a few scattered boulders and uneven terrain. It was a landscape designed to test agility and awareness.

From the edge of the clearing, several figures materialized—simulated opponents, armed and ready for battle. They were clearly not human, more like humanoid constructs, their movements mechanical yet fluid. They approached her, weapons raised, their expressions blank and devoid of any humanity.

Alexandria rolled her shoulders, loosening up as she prepared herself. She didn’t need to think twice. As the first construct lunged at her, she moved with a speed and precision that spoke of years of training. Her telekinesis flared to life, and with a flick of her wrist, she sent the first attacker flying into a boulder with a force that shattered its synthetic body on impact.

Another came at her from the side, swinging a blade that glinted in the artificial light. Alexandria ducked, narrowly avoiding the strike, and with a swift motion, she grabbed the blade telekinetically, wrenching it from the construct’s grasp and driving it into its chest. The construct crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

The remaining attackers hesitated for a split second, as if recalculating their strategy. It was all the time Alexandria needed. She focused her mind, sending out a telekinetic pulse that knocked them all off balance. Two of them staggered but recovered quickly, advancing on her once again. The third, however, wasn’t so lucky—it was thrown back against the trees, its body collapsing into a heap of twisted metal.

Alexandria didn’t give them a chance to regroup. She launched herself at the nearest opponent, her movements fluid and precise. Her fist connected with its face, and she followed up with a telekinetic blast that sent it crashing to the ground. The last remaining construct tried to retreat, but Alexandria was on it in an instant. With a final, powerful telekinetic push, she crushed it into the ground, its limbs splayed out at unnatural angles.

The clearing was silent once more, save for the sound of Alexandria’s heavy breathing. She stood in the center of the carnage, her eyes blazing with the intensity of the fight. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath, her mind slowly coming down from the high of combat.

"Well done, Alexandria," Professor Xavier's voice broke through the silence, his tone measured. "You handled that with remarkable skill. Your reflexes and decision-making are impressive, especially given the complexity of the scenario."

Alexandria straightened up, wiping the sweat from her brow. "It was easy enough," she said, though there was a slight edge to her voice, as if she had been hoping for more of a challenge.

"I expected no less from you," Professor Xavier replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. "But this was just a preliminary assessment. There’s more we need to explore when it comes to your abilities—especially your dream manipulation."

She nodded, though she wasn’t particularly thrilled at the idea of using her dream powers. Combat was one thing—something she understood, something tangible. But dreams? They were a whole different territory, one she wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

As if reading her thoughts, Professor Xavier continued, "I understand that your dream manipulation might not be something you’ve had much opportunity to explore in a combat context. But it’s an important part of your skill set, one that could be invaluable in certain situations."

Alexandria didn’t respond immediately, her mind turning over the possibilities. She knew her dream manipulation was powerful, but she had always used it for more subtle, less direct purposes—mostly to keep people away from her own thoughts. The idea of using it in combat was new, and not entirely welcome.

"Alright," she said finally, her voice steady. "What do you want me to do?"

Professor Xavier’s gaze softened slightly, as if he understood the internal conflict she was grappling with. "We’ll start with something simple. I’ll create a scenario where your opponents are influenced by a dream-like state—something that distorts their perception of reality. Your task will be to manipulate that state to your advantage."

The environment around her shifted once more, the clearing darkening as if the sun had suddenly set. The air grew thick and heavy, a mist rising from the ground to obscure the edges of the clearing. Alexandria could feel the change in the atmosphere, the way it pressed down on her senses, making everything feel surreal and dream-like.

From the mist, new figures emerged—these ones more fluid and less defined than the previous constructs. They moved in a disjointed, almost ghostly manner, their forms flickering as if they were caught between different states of being. Alexandria recognized the nature of the scenario immediately—these were manifestations of dreams, or perhaps nightmares, their reality unstable and shifting.

She closed her eyes for a moment, reaching out with her mind. It was a delicate balance, manipulating a dream state. Too much force, and the whole construct could collapse, leaving nothing to work with. Too little, and the dream could spiral out of control, becoming more of a threat than the opponents themselves.

She began to weave her influence into the fabric of the dream, threading her thoughts through the mist and the figures within it. Slowly, she started to shape the dream to her will, making the figures more solid, more real. They became easier to predict, their movements more coordinated and deliberate.

The figures moved toward her, but this time, she didn’t rely on telekinesis alone. She reached deeper into the dream, warping their perception of the environment. The ground shifted beneath their feet, the mist thickening around them, causing them to stumble and falter. One of the figures reached out as if to grab her, but its hand passed through empty air, its form dissipating like smoke.

Alexandria pushed further, intensifying the dream’s effects. The figures began to move slower, their forms becoming more disjointed and fragmented. She could see the confusion in their movements, the way they struggled to maintain their shape and purpose. It was as if they were caught in a loop, unable to break free from the dream’s hold.

She didn’t stop there. She pushed the dream to its breaking point, unraveling the last threads of coherence that held the figures together. One by one, they disintegrated into nothingness, their forms dissolving into the mist that surrounded them.

When the last figure had vanished, Alexandria opened her eyes, breathing heavily from the effort. The mist began to clear, the environment shifting back to the neutral state of the Danger Room. Professor Xavier watched her carefully, his expression thoughtful.

"That was… impressive," he said slowly. "You managed to dismantle the dream construct entirely. It’s not something many can do with such precision and control."

Alexandria gave a small shrug, though there was a hint of pride in her eyes. "It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be."

"Perhaps not," Professor Xavier conceded, "but it’s still a significant achievement. You have a natural talent for manipulating dreams, and with more training, you could become even more adept at using it in a variety of situations."

She nodded, though her mind was still processing what she had just done. The power she had over dreams was something she had always taken for granted—something she used out of necessity rather than choice. But now, seeing it in a different light, she realized that it could be more than just a defense mechanism. It could be a weapon, a tool to be wielded with precision and purpose.

"Is there anything else?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tumult of thoughts in her head.

Professor Xavier shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Not today. You’ve done more than enough. Take some time to rest and reflect on what you’ve learned. We’ll continue your training tomorrow."

Alexandria nodded once more, feeling a sense of satisfaction despite herself. She had proven what she was capable of, not just to Professor Xavier, but to herself. And as she left the Danger Room, her mind was already racing with possibilities—ways to refine her abilities, to push herself even further.

---

Later that evening, Alexandria found herself back in her room, the events of the day replaying in her mind. She had gone through the motions of dinner, but her thoughts had been elsewhere, focused on what she had done in the Danger Room. It was strange, feeling proud of herself—strange, but not entirely unwelcome.

She sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes drifting to the small window that looked out over the grounds of the school. The sun had long since set, the sky a deep, inky black dotted with stars. There was a sense of calm that settled over the mansion at night, a quiet that she found comforting.

But even in the silence, her mind wouldn’t rest. She kept thinking about her training, about what she could do better—how she could push herself further. There was always more to learn, more to improve upon. And for the first time in a long time, she felt a sense of purpose—a drive to be better, not just for herself, but for those around her.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear the knock on her door until it was almost too late. Startled, she looked up just as the door opened, revealing Logan standing in the doorway, his usual gruff expression in place.

"Got a minute?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

Alexandria blinked, surprised by his presence. She hadn’t expected to see him again so soon—if at all. But she nodded, gesturing for him to come in.

Logan stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He didn’t sit, instead choosing to lean against the wall near the window, his arms crossed over his chest. He studied her for a moment, his gaze intense.

"Heard you had a good session in the Danger Room today," he said finally, his tone neutral.

Alexandria shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal. "It was fine. Nothing I couldn’t handle."

"That so?" Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he didn’t quite believe her. "From what I hear, you took down those constructs like they were nothing. Even managed to mess with a dream scenario without breaking a sweat."

She glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction. It was hard to tell with Logan—he was so closed off, so guarded. But there was something in his tone, something that told her he was impressed, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.

"Yeah," she said, her voice quieter now. "It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be."

Logan grunted, his expression unreadable. "You’re good, kid. Real good. But don’t let it go to your head. There’s always gonna be someone stronger, faster, better. And you gotta be ready for that."

Alexandria nodded, understanding the truth in his words. She knew she wasn’t invincible—far from it. But hearing it from Logan, someone who had seen more than his fair share of battles, made it hit home in a way she hadn’t expected.

"I know," she said, her voice firm. "I’m not looking to be the best. I just want to be ready for whatever comes next."

Logan studied her for a moment longer, then nodded, as if satisfied with her response. "Good. Keep that mindset, and you’ll do just fine."

There was a pause, a silence that stretched out between them. Alexandria wasn’t sure what to say—wasn’t sure why Logan was here in the first place. But she found that she didn’t mind his presence, even if it was unexpected.

"You ever think about what comes next?" she asked suddenly, the question slipping out before she could stop herself.

Logan looked at her, his expression thoughtful. "Every damn day," he said quietly. "But it ain’t about what’s next. It’s about surviving what’s in front of you. One day at a time, one fight at a time."

She nodded slowly, taking in his words. It made sense, in a way—living in the moment, focusing on the now. But it was hard for her, always thinking ahead, always planning for the future. She wasn’t sure she knew how to just live in the moment.

But maybe, with time, she could learn.

"Thanks, Logan," she said after a moment, her voice sincere. "For everything."

He gave a small nod, his expression softening just a fraction. "Anytime, kid. Anytime."

And with that, he turned and left the room, leaving Alexandria alone with her thoughts once more. But this time, the silence wasn’t as heavy—it was filled with the possibility of what could be, of what she could become.

She had a long way to go, but for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was on the right path. And that was enough.

For now.

i translated a part of 'wuthering heights' into russian and then changed my mind and made all the russian into english, except for that one section since my book is back home and i'm halfway across the country at college. but, you get the gist.

[trashbag-baby666]

Pilot-Firehouse au

Summary: There’s a new probie at Casper fd, Gale is one step closer to finding out who Rosies been going on dates with, welcome to the madness.

WC: 3,385

C/W: None!

au masterlist!

MOTA Masterlist!

John skipped through the fire department a pink box of donuts in his hand. Most people would probably ask what’s got you in a good mood? But no one batted an eye at John, because this is just how he carries himself all the time, aspiring to put a smile on all his crew's faces. Today it would be with donuts tomorrow it might be dad jokes.

“Morning, Bucky.” Curt wiped his hands on his pants and took the powdered sugar donut out of the box, “Chicks got a probie in the office. Told me to send you in when you got here.”

“Sounds good,” John nods, heading up the metal, red steps and going into Chicks office. A brown haired man sitting on the opposite side of Chick, his eyes wide with excitement. Fresh out of the academy and ready for some real action.

“Morning chief, donut?” John held the box out.

“Yes please, thank you, Captain. John, this is Captain Egan. One of the finest firefighters CFD has ever seen.”

“We’ve got another John?” He raised an eyebrow leaning over slightly to see the file on Chicks desk, “John Brady, how do you like Brady?”

“I…uh.”

“Come on, Brady, wouldn’t wanna be late for the morning stretch circle.” John called, bouncing down the steps, Brady scattering after him, “Guys this is our new probie, Brady.”

“Fresh blood, huh?” Dougie leaned on the fire truck

“This is Dougie and…” John looked around for a moment, “Where’s your Missus?”

“I ain’t anyone's missus,” the lengthy blonde came from around the front of the truck, eyeing up Brady.

“And this is Howard but everyone calls him Hambone, maple long john for you.” John plucked the donut out of the box and handed it to the blonde, “I’m putting Brady with you guys today, so please be nice to him…Brady, good luck with the hazing.”

“You’re ours now, pretty boy.” Dougie put a strong hand onto his shoulder, shaking him lightly.

“Come on stretch time, boys.” Curt clasped his hands together grabbing the attention of everyone, quickly being overshadowed by the loud siren that began to ring, “Nevermind.”

“Suit up, Brady!” John clapped him on the back, offering a small crack of a smile.

—---------

Gale’s all too familiar with the sounds of too many voices all at once on top of the constant voices on the intercom paging doctors, the occasional groan, the clacking on keyboards. The sound of the Casper, Wyoming ER became nothing but white noise for him, “good morning, doctor.” Rosie stood against the counter in the breakroom. His words okayest doctor thermos in hand, a small smile on his lips.

“Morning, doctor.” Gale opened his locker, “How’re you this morning?”

“Doing just fine.”

“So I take it the date went well?”

“Oh, how did it go?” Croz pushed open the break room door, his stuffed to the brim tote bag over his shoulder eyebrows wide with curiosity.

“It was fine guys, but I don’t kiss and tell.” Rosie put his hands up in defense. Croz and Gale had been trying to crack the code into Rosies love life since late med school when they met Croz during their residencies. But he kept it a secret from them and wasn’t budging still.

“You’re no fun, Rosie, who else are me and Gale supposed to gossip about?”

“Linda from HR. No, I’m kidding, gossip about me wouldn’t be very much fun anyways, but he did meet Freddie last night.” Rosie glanced at the two of them as he walked towards the door.

“Oooooh,” Gale snickered, getting to meet Freddy was a big deal. Rosie didn’t let just anyone meet his elderly deaf cat with separation anxiety.

“Sorry I gotta get back to it,” Rosie put his hand on the door handle shooting them a wink.

“I’m glad he’s found a guy, this was their…fourth date I think he mentioned the other day?” Gale and Rosie had met their freshman year of college since they were roommates. Then they just never separated and lived together all the way up until John asked Gale to move in with him.

“Me too,” Croz sighed, putting his bag away, “How was Delia’s game yesterday?”

“Great! She almost had a home run, but they did win, six to five!”

“Sorry, we couldn’t make it, Junie got sent home from the day camp yesterday with a fever.” Gale knew Croz and his husband Bubbles kept very busy with their four kids.

Hell, Gale only had two kids and they kept very busy.

“That’s alright, how high was the fever?”

“Hundred and one I think she sweated it out last night. She was drippin’ this morning when I woke her up.”

“Hopefully it passes fast. It makes me so sad when the girls are sick.”

“Me too, hopefully we can contain her germs to herself and we don’t have a house outbreak.” Croz rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The last thing any of them needed was a Crosby family sick outbreak that could possibly spread.

———————

Brady squeezed the excess water out of the sponge and back into the bucket of soapy water. Pressing the sponge back into the truck. After the call John had asked Ham, Dougie, and himself to wash the truck. But the other two had long since abandoned ship , leaving him by himself.

“Dougie and Ham ditch you?”

“Jesus,” Brady put a hand out on the truck turning to see John with that same smirk from earlier on his face. Bending down he grabbed the other sponge out of the bucket.

“Curt used to do the same shit to me. I promise they’ll like you, they do this to everyone.”

“How long did Curt, y’know…? Harass you for being the new guy?” Brady scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Oh I don’t know, I think a good month, till I saved his ass from a burning building.”

“Oh.”

“How old are you, kid?”

“Twenty four, sir.”

“Well you’re aging me specially with the sir, no need for this sir and captain bullshit. Just call me Bucky, everyone else does.”

“Okay, capt…Bucky.” A moment of silence passed between the two of them. Brady just hoped he was doing everything right like he had been taught in the academy.

“Got a special someone in your life?”

“Oh, uh, no. I haven’t met the right one yet…there weren't a lot of options in Sundance. Thought I’d have a better shot since I play for both teams.” Brady chuckled dryly hoping he wouldn’t be ostracized for his sexuality here.

“Amen to that one! I thought I’d be single for the rest of my life, till I met my husband.”

“How long have you guys been married?”

“We actually just celebrated our tenth anniversary last week.” John snickered.

“Well congratulations, do you have any kids?”

“Yeah, we’ve got two girls. My oldest will be 13 next week and our youngest is seven.”

Brady felt a hole of anxiety in his chest begin to fill itself back in knowing there was at least another lgbt member in the firehouse. He kept it to himself at first in the academy, he didn’t want a stigma to follow him.

Brady picked his head up at the sound of a dog barking, meeting the sight of a white and light gray husky in a service dog vest dashing towards John. “Oh hello there, Meatball!” John scratched the husky behind his ear, “This is Meatball, the hundredths mascot and staple.”

“Is this the new probie?”

“Yep,” John clasped a hand on Brady’s shoulder squeezing gently, “Brady, this is our driver engineer Benny Demarco, he’s Meatball's other half.”

“I’m not married to him, I promise.”

“Did you look into the tax benefits for it?” John asked, tilting his head and putting his hands on his hips.

“Nice meeting you, Brady.” He held out his hand for him to shake.

“Nice meeting you, I look forward to working with you.” Brady shook his hand, his grip tight and firm.

“Come on Meatball,” Demarco headed up the steps to Chicks office, the husky behind him.

“So,”

“Hm?” Brady’s eyebrow raised.

“Me and Benny are good friends, but he won’t tell us a thing about this person he’s seeing. If you can figure anything out let me and Curtie know.” John squeezed Brady’s shoulder again delivering a small shake.

So John is chronically nosy?

———————————

“Fancy seeing you here, we gotta stop running into each other like this.” Curt leaned against the open door of the ambulance.

“Hey, Curtie.” Ken looked up from where he was writing down his report, “Did you ask Bucky if we're still coming over for dinner?”

“Yes we are.”

“Awesome, I felt bad we had to leave right after the game.” Ken set his clipboard down standing up taking Curt’s hand then jumping out of the back of the ambulance.

“Yeah, the girls were all excited. I'm bringing them popsicles to Friday's practice, today we gotta lock in on fielding.” Ken smiled while watching Curt talk with his hands. He loved getting to coach Cordelia’s rec league softball team. Curt also stayed busy playing on the firehouses softball league Bucky coached. He didn’t play anymore only because he tore his ACL a few years back.

“I know I was so proud of them! You tell them I said that.” Ken placed his hand on Curt’s chest, “You’ve been working out?”

“Sure have sugar,” Curt pulled him in by the belt loops. He could stare at Curt all day and make this his full time job. Curt moved in with Ken a couple months ago and things had been going pretty well.

“Curt, what are you doing?” John furrowed his eyebrows coming around the truck.

“I was just saying hello to the wife,” Curt kissed Ken’s cheek, “See you at home, Kenny.”

“Bye Curtie, bye John.” Ken waved and shut the back doors of the ambulance.

“I saw you and Buck making out against one of the trucks the other day. So you got nothin’ on me, Johnny.” Curt shook his head walking after him.

“You know too much about me for me to become an enemy of Curtis Biddick. I was just coming to tell you we were leaving.”

It was true, when John dropped out of college halfway through his second year. He got in his car and started driving. He got to the Wisconsin/Minnesota border and decided to just keep going. Drove all the way to Casper, Wyoming in two days, decided to stop for a drink and then never looked back.

“I don’t want you as an enemy,” Curt shrugged his jacket back on as they got back to the truck.

“Good, because then I would have to kill you.” The two of them climbed back in the truck, “How’re you liking it, Brady?”

“I like it sir- uh, Bucky.” He cleared his throat and clasped his hands together looking down.

“Loosen up kid, I’m glad you like it.” John sat across from him.

“You’ve been doin’ a just fine job. I know you’ll fit right in.” Curt had seen a dozen or so of guys through their probie phases at the firehouse. He did in fact haze John after he convinced him to join the academy. John and Curt both saw Dougie and Ham through their probie period together. Brady seemed like a good kid and determined to become the best firefighter he can be.

————————

Gale: I’m on lunch, just thought I’d check in if you or Flynn needed anything from the store. If you make anything please clean it up so I don’t have to clean before making dinner. 🤗🤗

Cordelia: ok

Gale sighed, setting his phone back on the breakroom table stabbing a crispy piece of lettuce out of his salad. “I don’t like this tweenage thing.”

“Delia?” Rosie hummed through his bite of sandwich

“Yeah the other day she looked at me like I killed her cats because I asked her to help me pick up dinner.” Gale rubbed the bridge of his nose. He and John both had been coming to terms that Cordelia did not in fact hate them. She just wasn’t their little girl anymore and wanted more independence and they could respect that.

“Has the attitude started yet?” Croz could probably offer the best advice out of any of them. Their oldest was a couple years older than Cordelia, “The first time Astrid actually raised their voice at us we were so distraught.”

“A little bit,” Gale sat back in his seat rubbing at the gold band on his finger, “I’m beginning to think about bringing back timeouts for her too.”

“Sometimes it’s better to let them cool off in their room. I remember this age, hormones flying, your body changing, everything seems like the biggest deal of your life.” Croz definitely had the most confidence in his parenting out of the group. But I guess you do probably have to carry confidence with your words when you have four kids to wrangle around.

“I told my parents to shut up one time at that age…it did not go over well.” Gale could imagine a younger Rosie telling that to Mama Rosenthal. Followed by her most certainly chewing him out in Yiddish and sending him to his room.

It’s not that Gale is insecure about his parenting, it's that he doesn’t want to be like his father. He wasn’t like his father at all. It’s the one thing Gale brought up when they first talked about kids, “John, what if I turn into him?” “That’s not going to happen. You’re nothing like him, Gale.” John was right, Gale wasn’t his father. The apple didn’t even fall from that tree.

“It’s at least a little nice to hear that this is at least some right of passage event.” Gale cleared his throat. He didn’t really get a chance to have that, he grew up at far too young of an age. He had spent his entire childhood taking care of his father and avoiding the swinging hands that came at him. The rundown apartment in northern Casper, the cigarette burned couch with the cans and bottles littering any surface available. He knew his only way out and he took it and ran.

Now he had his own family, he had his firehouse family from John's side and he had Rosie and Croz from his side. He had to remind himself, he in fact is doing better than he ever thought he would.

————————

There’s a lot of things that are staples in the Cleven household. but the one that never missed was the barking every time someone was at the door. Scooby would jump up his loud howl carrying alerting Chili that maybe he needs to start barking too; although, his didn’t carry the same way Scoobys did.

“Guys!” Gale scolded the dogs from the kitchen.

“It’s us,” Ken sang as they came inside toeing off his shoes. His prized Apple pie in his hands, Curt not far behind him, “Hi Scooby.”

“Uncle Curt!” Flynn came flying out of the kitchen and jumped into his arms.

“Hey, Flynn.” Curt spun her around, “How was your ball game?”

“Good! I got a couple good hits! Papa said we could practice tomorrow.” Flynn quite literally fell from the John Egan tree though. Not only did she have the same blue eyes and dark brown curls but the same sass and humor. Oh yeah, and the lifelong passion for baseball but ‘specifically the yankees’.

“I’ll see if I have time to stop over and I can toss you some balls. Sounds good?”

“Yes! You’re the best Curt.” Flynn wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight.

“No you’re the best, Flynn. Why don’t we go help your dads set the table?”

Flynn nodded, Curt setting her down and she took off for the dining room attached to the kitchen.

“Delia, why don’t you take Ken with you to grab some drinks.” Gale nudged her from across the kitchen island.

“Okay,” she rolled her eyes with that sharp tone in her voice.

“I don’t like that attitude,” John popped his hip out resting his hands on his hips.

“I don’t like your attitude, Pa.”

Gale looked between the two of them having their nightly ‘drama queen competition’ as Flynn called it. Cordelia let out an irritated grunt stomping to the connecting door to the garage.

“Teenagers are fun,” Curt snickered.

Ken sat on the steps next to the fridge in the garage while Cordelia dug out the last can of Arnold Palmers for Curt.

“Is everything going alright, hun?”

“Yeah, it’s just, everything feels like…I don’t even know.” She handed the can of tea to Ken and shut the fridge door sitting back on her knees.

“That’s part of growing up, unfortunately. Do you wanna talk about anything?” At those words Cordelia looked down at her hands bashfully, a small smirk that resembled Gales following.

“Well, okay but you can’t tell dad and Pa.”

“Deal,” Ken rested his head in his hands.

“There’s this girl on my team, her name is Mel.”

“Does Curt know?” Ken interrupted her momentarily.

“No, we just started talking last week. She’s staying over with some of my other friends on Saturday.”

“I hope you have fun. But make good decisions,” Ken picked up the drinks off the steps next to him.

“Don’t worry, we haven’t even held hands yet. I can’t tell if pa would be upset that I’m dating or start crying?”

Ken let out a small chuckle, there's a good chance both could happen. Curt told him that when Cordelia had taken her first steps John broke down crying. He also cried when she turned one, he wasn’t ready for his little girl to be in such a rush to grow up still.

—-----------

John let out a loud yawn stretching his arms above his head, his shirt coming up just slightly. Gale leaned over, poking his stomach softly sending John into a loud laugh falling onto the bed right on top of Gale. “Did you have a good day at work?” Gale felt his cheeks heat red him and John were nose to nose.

“Yeah, we have a new probie at the station. Seems like a good kid. How about yours, Doctor Cleven ” John smiled because he knew exactly how to get Gale all flustered.

“Well, Captain Egan, I did have a good day. Today I found out Rosie went on a fourth date with that guy and he brought him to his apartment and let him meet Freddie.” He was pleased with himself that John's cheeks were now flush and he looked down slightly, just from calling him captain.

“Ooooh, do you know his name?.” John rolled off of him climbing under the blankets. He loved some good, who's dating who gossip? Someday he could be just as bad as Cordelia.

“No, that’s all he’s told us. We should find a time to go out and tell Rosie to bring him.”

“Good god, Buck. You’re just as bad as me and Delia!” Wrapping his arms around Gale he pulled him into his chest.

“Exposure therapy,” Buck giggles, turning his head to meet John's sparkly eyes. They laid there for a moment just basking in the energy of an amazing sixteen years together.

“Can you believe we’ve been married for ten years?” John rested his chin on Gale's shoulder, “Together for 16.”

“I know it’s gone so fast.” Gale tangled his hands into John’s pressing his back into John’s warmth.

“Next thing we know it’s going to be our 60th anniversary and Delia and Flynn are going to put us in a home.”

“Don't remind me,” Gale sighed, tipping his head back against John.

“At least we’re a long way from retirement?” John kissed Gales neck, truthfully he’d work forever if that’s what it took to keep this little life. He couldn’t imagine anything better than this, he was married to the absolute love of his life, “Well, maybe we should use my sexy firefighter body to our advantage.”

Gale mentally rolled his eyes with a smile on his face, John’s cheesy flirting never getting old. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

——————

Thanks for reading!! Hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs highly appreciated! <3

[ellethespaceunicorn]

use a photo on your phone camera roll and write a quick scene/hc for it

Hi Nonnie!!! Funny story, the last time I wrote for these two, I was on pain meds for a tonsillectomy. Now, I've got Covid and I'm awake at 4:19am posting this story. I hope you enjoy!!

Title: My Little Strawberry 

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches) 

Fandom: Sand Castle 

Word Count: 556 

Summary: A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach. 

Warnings: mention of creampie, sexy fluff?, mention of oral sex (f receiving) 

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

My Masterlist 

“There she is. Eating her breakfast. Looking mighty fine as usual.” Sy walks up to you and kisses the side of your head. 

“Whatchu want, boy?” You smile up at him through your lashes. 

“I ain’t want nothing at all, Peaches,” Sy holds your chin and gives you a peck on the lips, “But there is one thing I had to talk to Strawberry about.” 

“Strawberry?” Your cute little eyebrows scrunch up in confusion and Sy turns your chair around to face him as he laughs. 

He runs his hand over your swollen six-month-pregnant belly before kneeling to talk to it. “Hey there, Strawberry. How’s Daddy's little girl?” 

“I see you stuck with the fruit theme. And since I’ve been eating strawberries for months now, you named her after my craving?” You could barely hold in your laughter at your husband’s tenderness. 

“I don’t know. It seemed perfect. And I know she’s gon’ be sweet if she’s half you,” Sy planted a kiss on your belly before standing up to his full height. “And since she’s half me, I apologize in advance for her temper.” 

“I knew what I was getting into when I wouldn’t let you pull out, you know that right?” You bite your lip and wink at him. 

“And I knew what you were doing when you turned on Tennessee Whiskey and poured me two fingers of Jack. And you were wearing that damn sundress with the little yellow flowers on it. Pretty as a picture.” Sy remembers the night you made Strawberry fondly. 

“So, what did you have to talk to Strawberry about, baby?” Popping a sliced piece of fruit in your mouth, you chew and wait for Sy to start talking to the baby. 

“Alright, Strawberry, so look. Mama here has been such a sweetheart. She has given you a nice first apartment while continuing to take care of your old man. So, I was thinking of getting her a little something. And I wanted your opinion on it,” Sy leaned in to whisper into your belly so you couldn’t hear, then turned to place his ear close to listen to what the baby says. When he leans back, a smile paints his features. 

“Well? What did she say?” You ask, more than invested in Sy’s little conversation with the baby. 

“She told me to thank you for taking care of her and me. And she told me to make sure I pay attention to you when you’re being ornery because that just means you need a firmer hand.” Sy rubs the sides of your belly. Moving his hands up to your waist and then further up your sides to cup your face. 

“She said all that?” Your eyes close as he rubs a thumb over your cheek, already feeling warmth rise under your skin. 

“She did. She also said I could probably take you upstairs right now and have my way with you. But I’m gon’ let you finish your breakfast first.” Sy sits next to you, picking up your fork and feeding you. 

You take the offered bite and get up from the table, picking up the bowl of sliced strawberries. “C’mon, I can eat these in bed while you eat me in bed.” Winking again, you turn to scurry up the steps with Sy on your heels. 

**Taglist**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @raccoon-eyed-rebel @geralts-yenn @peyton-warren

[delioncourtes]

when noah kahan said "if the sun don't rise till the summertime, forgive my northern attitude. oh, i was raised on little light" and when he said "i thought that if i piled something good on all my bad that i could cancel out the darkness i inherited from dad" and when he said "my house was designed to kinda look like it's crying. the eyes are the windows, the garage is the mouth. so when they mention the sad kid in the sad house on balch street, you won't have to guess who they're speaking about" and when he said "i was taking the wrong meds, feels good to be sad" and when he said "my mouth was designed for my foot to fit in it" and when he said "someday i’m gonna be somebody people want" and when he said "no thing so sure that i can't learn to doubt it" and when he said "i divvied up my anger into thirty separate parts, keep the bad shit in my liver and the rest around my heart. i'm still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them, but it's a start" and when he said "at the end of the day, i know there are worse ways to stay alive" and when he said "i'm terrified that i might never have met me" and when he said "i forgot my medication, fell into a manic high. spent my savings at a lulu, now i'm suffering in style. why is pain so damn impatient? ain't like it's got a place to be. keeps rushing me" and when he said "if all my life was wasted, i don't mind, i'll watch it go. yeah, it's better to die numb than feel it all" and when he said "i drink till i drown and i smoke till i'm burning" and when he said "collect every dream in these old empty pockets, in hope that i'll need them someday"

and when he said "it's an ode to the hole that i found myself stuck in, a song for the grave that i dug" and when he said "i only tell the truth when i'm sure that i'm lying" and when he said "i would leave if only i could find a reason. i'm mean because i grew up in new england. i got dreams but i can't make myself believe them. spend the rest of my life with what could have been, and i will die in the house that i grew up in. i'm homesick" and when he said "it only falls into place when you're falling to pieces" and when he said "the whole place is quiet. you miss something that you can't place but you can't deny it. don't know whether you want a place in the coast or the country. you can't stay here, it's hard to face and it feels too ugly. you light a fire inside, let it burn" and when he said "with a past box of photos i rip myself open" and when he said "feel the rush of my blood, i'm seventeen again. i am not scared of death, i've got dreams again" and when he said "a minute from home, but i feel so far from it. the death of my dog, the stretch of my skin. it's all washing over me, i'm angry again. the things that i lost here, the people i knew, they got me surrounded for a mile or two" and when he said "my medicine is drowning your perspective out, so i ain't taking any fault" and when he said "i ain't proud of all the punches that i've thrown in the name of someone i no longer know. for the shame of being young, drunk and alone"

and when he said "'son, are you a danger to yourself?' well, fuck that, sir, just let me call. i'll give you my blood alcohol, i'll rot with all the burnouts in the cell. i'll change my faith, i'll kiss the badge. just wait, i swear she'll call me back. 'son, why do you do this to yourself?'" and when he said "i'll turn up the music and i'll forget until it ends that i'm not ready to let go yet" and when he said "i'm in my car and i see the yard, the patch of grass where we buried the dog. and the world makes sense behind a chain-link fence. if i could leave, i would've already left" and when he said "i thought i had something, and that's the same as having something. i get mad at nothing, blame my dad for something. i pull no punches, then feel bad for months. thought i was raised better. tried to fake better, tried to blame weather and escape better. hope the skin heals where the pain enters" and when he said "i saw the end, it looks just like the middle. got a paper and pen and a page with no space. i filled the hole in my head with prescription medication, then forgot how to cry. who am i to complain? and now the pain's different. it still exists, it just escapes different and evades vision. makes the rain different, makes the news boring and my rage distant. yes, i'm young and living dreams, in love with being noticed and afraid of being seen. but i can finally eat and i can fall asleep. it's fine, fine, fine" and when he said "medicate, meditate, swear your soul to jesus. throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason" and when he said "we spent so long just getting by. that's the thing about survival. who the hell, who the hell likes living just to die?"

[lilith-little-world]

Sneak Peek of Chapter 2|| The Isekai’d Oracle

Well, chapter 2 is done, just going to look over it and post it tomorrow. Sorry for taking so long and not being active here. Just been feeling, bleh. The meds I'm taking worked well until it stopped so I have been feeling tired. After updating the story I'm gonna post more here. I just stopped so I can focus on chapter 2 and finish it.

Also thank the season 4 special giving me some motivation and the last push I need to make me finish this. Wukong’s dad bod tho-

“Now this is more like it, Almond!” You said in eagerness, giving a small bowl of shredded meat to your dog. Today was a pain in the ass but at least you’re celebrating with a good meal tonight. A few meat and custard-filled steamed buns with actual soda and alcohol. Lately you have been drinking pure water or sometimes juice. Since they were cheaper. However, after a long week of work and this stressful day, you decided, you’re going to treat yourself. So you turned on the TV to some cable channel that had a Chinese Drama. Unfortunately, it was only in Cantonese, but hey better than nothing. You ain’t complaining. Spider Queen was extremely generous when she gave you an increase of pay. Maybe it was her plan all along to get you to be at…her little ritual.

Maybe you should try and ask around next time. You are going to work for Jin and Yin for a while. They might know something, maybe…

You sat in bed and stare at the TV. Almond’s fur brushed against your leg as she slept next to you. Full from her large meal. The show was entertaining enough, which was saying a lot since you don’t know what’s happening. Only get hints and clues from their expression and atmosphere. It was either this, the news, or educational channels.

From what you gathered, this drama looks old. The resolution was low and blurry. The show follows this priestess around and her weird encounters with demons or trying to be the best priestess she can be. It’s quite cute and funny. Then again, you’re half asleep and drinking alcohol.

“What?! But I thought you need some priestess stuff, why are you running off with that dragon?!” You shout at the screen. “Ugh, come on, you need to be more responsible.” Your words slurred slightly as you mumbled off. Dozing off, staring blankly at the show.

“Be…more responsible…”You mutter quietly. The words echo in your head. Tomorrow, you’re definitely going to organize your thoughts and make a plan on what to do next. You are in the show you been obsessed with for a while now.

Yeah, that’s what you’re going to do, tomorrow. Organize your thoughts, get info, and make a plan on what to do. You’re also going to have fun while doing it. Depending on when you enter this world, you can technically avoid all of the ‘bad events’ that are to come. What is the worse that’s going to happen?

You already worked yourself to death in your old life. There’s no way you’re going to do that in this life. You are going to have fun and enjoy this one.

A chill went down your spine, swearing the room temperature dropping out of nowhere. You put the plate and bowl on your nightstand with your drinks. Turning off the TV, you decided it was the best time to call it a day and rest. Glancing down, you see Almond stir and look at the window tiredly. Her ears were down and was shaking. Due to the dropping temperature or for a completely different reason.

“What’s wrong?” You gently pet her head. She immediately leans into your touch. You glance at the window and try to see what she’s looking at. The blind covers the window but there was no shadow or any indication of anyone outside.

Sighing, you got up and head to the window. Moving the blinds slightly, there was nothing, no one outside. Your hand grazes the freezing glass, making you pull away from the sudden coldness. Your skin tingling and burns from the sensation. As a cold and heavy feeling settling deep within you. Making your head spin.

“What the…”

Almond whines trying to catch your attention but you kept it at the window. You noticed a slight frost at the edges of the window. Again you reach out to touch it, almost as if it was calling for you, but Almond barks. Finally, you turn around to face her.

“What is it?”

“Woof!”

“I hope you do know, I can’t really understand you.”

“Woof, woof!”

“Do you want me to leave the frost alone?”

Almond nods and jumps off the bed. Trying to push you away from the window. Her paws nudges your knee and you took a few steps away from the window. A confused expression is written across your face. Maybe it’s best if you save this for a different day and maybe when you’re not tired.

“Alright, then I'll leave it alone for now. I won't go touching it, calm down.” You pick Almond up and went back to the bed.

“Let’s go to bed, alright? Now stop worrying about me so much, okay?”

You stroke her head and lay the small dog in bed. She was oddly anxious. You had never seen her this worried before.

“It’s fine Almond, just go to bed.”

It didn’t take much for her to go back to sleep. You quietly lay there for a few more minutes. You’re eyes glancing at the window and back to Almond.

A sigh escapes and cover yourself up with the blanket. Almond told you to leave it alone and it’s for the best. Who knows what will happen if you touch it? It looks like Almond does and that’s a good enough reason for you.

“I really hope this doesn’t lead to anything crazy.” You mumbled finally drifting off the sleep. Just wanting this night to end.

[abubblingcandle]

for the WIP ask game, 16 year old Jamie, Lemon to a knife fight and/or that's choas theory

Thank you!! I've done 16 year old Jamie here so will do the other two!

Lemon to a Knife Fight is a fic for my Bad Things Happen Bingo where Jamie is kidnapped by Mannion's lackies prior to the West Ham game at the end of the season. Mannion is desperate for West Ham to win and thinks getting Jamie out of the way will do it. The kidnappers have just been told to keep Jamie out of the way for three days and make various threats about breaking his legs if he tries to run.

“Do you want the game on?” Thug B asked, hanging the remote between his fingers. “Why the fuck would I want the game on you fucking bellend?” Jamie growled, spitting in his direction but only succeeding in getting it on the floor between them. “For fuck sake I thought we were past this. You behave and this will be a nice long weekend in a swanky hotel,” he rolled his eyes. “You, you,” Jamie stammered. “You can’t fucking kidnap someone and then tell them to be nice and sit pretty!” he yelled. Jamie struggled against the ties around his wrists and ankles with renewed passion, yelling all the while. “God dammit, you did this to yourself Tartt,” he sighed and slowly rose to his feet. “Don’t you fucking dare, someone will hear me,” Jamie growled. “That’s the problem ain’t it lad,” the thug muttered, straddling over Jamie’s bucking and writhing form so that his legs pinned around Jamie’s hips. Jamie writhed and tried to flail his legs and arms out but he was pinned. The rip of duct tape being pulled off the roll, froze Jamie in place. “No, no, please,” Jamie’s threw his head around, trying desperately to avoid the piece of tape. “No you haven’t shown you can be trusted,” he tutted. Large fingers grasped onto Jamie’s hair down the scalp, holding him firmly in place. The strip of duct tape was pressed down tightly over his mouth and stung as Jamie tried to flex his jaw. Nothing could move, he heaved in breaths through his nose and tried to hold back the tears as he captor rolled off him and settled back into the armchair.

That's Chaos Theory is a fic I have posted a couple of chapters of here and was one of my first Ted Lasso fics. It is centred around Jamie having ADHD and being off his meds as Keeley got them for him when they were dating. Chapter 3 is about overstimulation

Jamie liked music. It was one of the very few things that Jamie and Beard seemed to have bonded over with the coach sending his charge regular recommendations. And he always had his headphones in. The only time they were out was when he was actually on the pitch. That day Jamie had come back in from training, smiling and laughing with the team as they fluttered around causing their usual ruckus. Jamie shook his head with a fond smile at something that Sam said but he just didn’t seem right. The smile wasn’t quite reaching his eyes. But Ted sat back and just watched, you couldn’t expect someone to be on all the time. Even Jamie Tartt was allowed an off day. He slumped down onto the bench and pulled his large headphones on over his head and rocked back to lean against the back wall of his cubby. And just stayed there.

[the-delta-42]

The Walking Dead Game What Ifs: What if The Motel Group left the Motor Inn earlier?

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Road Trip

What If the Group Left the Motor Inn Earlier? Prompted submitted by @thecrusadercomrade on AO3

“That’s not going to fix anything!”

Lee bowed his head, before looking back out at the forest. Lilly and Kenny were arguing about the leaving plan again. Normally, they’d try and get Lee to back them up, which was why Lee had chosen to take the first look out shift.

“We ain’t got much left,” Argued Kenny, hotly, “Do ya want to starve here?”

“No one’s going to starve.” Snarled Larry, pointing a finger at Kenny.

“Lee, what are your thoughts?” Lee internally cursed Mark, before looking at them.

“If we’re going to leave, we’ll need to get the RV working, find enough gas to run it and clear out the drug store.” Said Lee, looking at them, “If we’re going to stay, we’ll need to build a better barricade, find more guns, warmer clothes and find a way of getting a steady source of food.”

“So, which camp are you in?” Asked Lilly, crossing her arms.

Lee sighed, before looking at Carley, remembering back to the conversation they had the other day, how she tried to convince him to tell the others about his past.

“Lee, we can’t hear your telepathic talks with your girlfriend.”

Lee glanced at the forest and sighed, before climbing down, “Honestly?” Lee looked around them, “I’m with Kenny, we’re in an area that had next to nothing to hunt, we’re running the risk of running out of meds and, frankly, this place has too many blind spots.”

“And how is piling into that RV going to fix that?” Scowled Lilly, getting a sigh from Lee.

“It won’t.” Admitted Lee, “But, being on the move does give us an advantage over the Walkers.”

Lilly scowled, before looking at the RV and stalking off.

“So,” Said Carley, fixing Lee with a look, “I guess a supply run is in order.”

“Most likely.” Agreed Lee, before glancing at Mark, “Can you take over watch? We’re going to need people who know the town.”

Mark nodded, climbing onto the roof of the RV.

“While you’re there,” Called Lilly, “you could see about finding a cooler or an ice box.”

Lee raised his hand to acknowledge her, as he and Carley left.

RT

Lee frowned, driving a screwdriver through a Walker’s head, before looking at the gun store Carley had gone into. He glanced down at the wheelbarrow, it was filled with drugs, food, tools and clothes. Carley reappeared with an armful of guns, while she had bullets bulging out of her pockets.

“I put more in the cooler,” Said Carley, depositing the guns into the wheelbarrow, “I’m going to get it.”

Lee nodded, before looking around, and spotting a large group of Walkers ambling around. Spotting a brick, Lee grabbed it and threw it at a decrepit store. The glass shattered, making the burglar alarm go off and getting the Walkers to go towards it.

“Really?” Snapped Carley, giving Lee a glare.

“It’ll buy us time.” Said Lee, picking up the wheelbarrow.

Carley gave him a nod, as they started to walk back to the motel, “Have you put any thought into what we talked about?”

Lee sighed, “Yeah, I’m starting to see the benefits of telling everyone. I mean, Larry already knows, so Lilly might as well. And it’ll removed Larry’s leverage.”

Carley nodded, “What about Clem? I heard her asking you about her parents yesterday.”

Lee looked down, “They’re dead. I listened to their answer machine when all this started, Her dad got bit and her mom was in Savannah when it fell.”

Carley looked down, “God.”

“How can I tell her that?” Asked Lee, “I part of me thinks she should keep that hope, but another part thinks she deserve to know.”

“Lee,” Said Carley, gently, “she should know, she deserves to know.”

Lee sighed, just as they reached the motel.

“We’re back.” Called Carley, as she pushed the barrier open, “We’re going to have to go back out for the gas.”

“Food, guns, clothes, drugs,” Lilly went through the wheelbarrow with Katjaa and Larry helping her, “I’m assuming these doohickeys are for fixing the RV.”

Lee nodded, “I’ll take Mark out hunting, try and build up out reserves.”

Lilly nodded, “I’ll be honest, I’m starting to come round to the leaving idea.”

“We made sure to grab all the medication there,” Said Carley, climbing into the roof of the RV, “even the pain killers.”

Lee leant against the RV, before glancing at Mark, “First thing tomorrow.”

RT

The past week had gone by well, they got several birds, a few rabbits and a deer, the week after they met Ben, his friend and his teacher. The latter two died and they found out that everyone turns, regardless on if they’ve been bitten or not. They’d managed to get the RV working the day before, so they all piled into the vehicle, with Lee and Carley sitting next to Clementine.

Mark kept glancing around, getting him Larry’s ire, “Quit doing that!”

“Sorry,” Apologised Mark, “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the convicted murderer thing.”

Everyone gave him a flat look.

“What?”

“We’ve all killed by this point.” Said Carley, wrapping an arm around Clementine, “Those raiders that started attacking us, that crazy guy who tried to put a bullet in Larry. That girl that got bit.” Lee placed a hand on Carley’s shoulder, “If we keep going by the old standard, then we’re all murderers.”

Mark looked down, before looking at Lee, “How’d it feel to punch a senator?”

“Mark!”

“Sorry, but everyone’s wanted to punch a Senator!”

“Ronald Reagan.” Grunted Larry.

“Bush.” Supplied Lilly.

“George Washington.” Clementine’s answer got her several funny looks, “He named things after himself.”

Lee chuckled, “Maybe we should all get some sleep.”

There were general murmurs of agreement, as Clementine snuggled into Lee’s side.

RT

Carley watched as Lee, Kenny and Mark scouted out the train, Ben was watching the kids with Katjaa supervising and Lilly and Larry were watching for Walkers.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Everyone looked towards where Mark had gone, with Lee running towards the train car. A moment later, Lee and Mark stumbled out with an old man in ratty clothes and a trench coat.

“Awful rude of y’all, comin’ into my home uninvited.” Drawled the man, looking around at them, “Saw ya fella havin’ a shit and I couldn’t resist scarin’ him.”

“I’m sorry,” Apologised Katjaa, after a moment, “we thought this place was abandoned.”

“It keeps the creepy crawlies out.” Shrugged the man, “Name’s Chuck, Charles if ya fancy.”

Carley looked over at Lee, the man pulling a box out of his pocket, “What’s that?”

“Crackers.” Answered Lee, handing them to the kids, “Thought the kids could have them.”

Carley gave Lee a small smile and a nod, before she looked towards the cab of the train, “Looks like Kenny’s dealt with a Walker.”

“No, they guy was already dead.” Said Lee, “One of the things was flashing.”

“What’d the label say?” Asked Ben, looking up.

Everyone looked at him, making him freeze, “It’s just, er, I like…trains?”

“Why…” Carley looked at Lee, “don’t you take him to Kenny and have a look around the cab?”

Lee paused, before nodding and walking off with Ben. Several minutes later, they’d managed to move the train, which left them at another impasse.

“We’ve got everything in the RV,” Lilly looked between the group, “What do you plan on doing when you run out of tracks? Carry it?”

“I’m just sayin’, we can get to the coast a whole lot faster with the train.” Said Kenny, before looking at Lee, “Lee, back me up on this.”

Lee frowned, “The train’ll make a lot of noise. Practically a dinner bell for any Walkers we pass, Lilly also made a good point about the track, especially since we don’t know how to operate them.”

“Seriously?”

“Maybe, we could try and take the RV with us.” Suggested Ben, getting a scowl from Larry.

“How the fuck do you plan on doing that?!” Larry looked at the others, “Lift it up and tie it to the roof?!”

“How about a compromise?” Suggested Mark, “Some go to Savannah by the train and some go by the RV. We can split some of the rations, and those who go using the RV can siphon some gas.”

“That’s…” Lilly thought it over, “not a bad idea actually.”

“What?!” Larry gave Lilly an incredulous look.

“Where should we meet up?” Asked Carley, frowning.

“My parents are staying at a hotel.” Clementine piped up, “We can meet there.”

Lilly gave Lee a look, “What’s it called?”

Lee shrugged, before looking at Clementine, “I can’t remember, it begins with an ‘m’.”

The group looked at the girl.

“…is there anything else you can remember about it?” Asked Lilly, frowning.

“Its desserts were yummy.”

“There’s a map in the cab.” Said Kenny, walking off, “I’ll go get it.”

Carley frowned, “Clem, are you talking about the Marsh House?”

“That’s it!” Beamed Clementine.

“I went with a friend once.” Carley explained, noticing the funny looks from the others.

“Great, Clem,” Lilly crouched down, “Why don’t you go back over to Duck?”

Clementine nodded and wandered away, just as Kenny got back, “Alright, I got the…what happened?”

“Carley knew the place.” Shrugged Lee, looking back at the others.

Kenny blinked, “Okay.”

“Aside from meeting up at the hotel,” Lilly got their attention, “what’s the plan?”

“We find a boat.”

“And if you can’t?”

“We will.”

“We’ll cross that bridge if or when we get to it.” Interrupted Lee, looking between them, “I’ll go with Kenny on the train, I promised Clementine that we’d look for her parents.”

“I’ll go with you.” Said Carley, almost immediately, “Have someone watch your back while Kenny’s fixated on that boat.”

“I’ll stick with the RV,” Decided Lilly, “Dad can stick with me, since I have his medication.”

“I’ll go with you too,” Said Mark, “I can siphon the gas.”

“I guess,” Lee looked at the other, “we just have to figure out who Katjaa, Duck and Ben are travelling with.”

“Katjaa and Duck are comin’ with me.” Interjected Kenny, before looking at Ben, “Him, I don’t know so much.”

“He can come with us.” Said Mark, looking at Lilly, “He can help me with the gas.”

Lilly sighed, “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

After shifting some of their supplies to the train, the two halves of the group wave each other off.

“See you in Savannah.” Called Lilly, as the train moved away, “We’ll get there as soon as we can.”

RT

Duck grinned as he watched his dad drive the train, Chuck was standing out on the front, after getting into some hot water with Lee and Carley.

“When can I learn to shoot?” Asked Duck, getting a growl from Kenny.

“When you’re older.”

“But Clementine’s younger than me!”

Kenny sighed, he heard Clementine shooting at some bottles Lee and Carley had set up. Back in the car, Lee looked over a map, as Carley cut Clementine’s hair.

“When we find my parents,” Carley and Lee shared a worried look, “do you think they can come with us?”

“I…guess we’ll see.” Said Carley, unable to find it in herself to tell Clementine that her parents were most likely dead.

Lee thought he heard Kenny yell, before the train came to a sudden halt. The three hopped out and looked at Kenny, who was standing next to the cab, yelling profanities.

After a brief discussion, Lee and Carley walked down to a nearby station, only to find it locked and backtracking to get Clementine, with Duck tagging along behind them.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Asked Carley, glancing at Clementine.

“She’s the only one small enough to get through the window.” Answered Lee, “I’m not happy about it, but it’ll help her in the long run.”

Carley frowned, but nodded, the group reached the station and quickly dealt with the Walkers they found in there. After opening the inside gate and collecting a blow torch, they started to walked back towards the train.

Then they heard it.

A gunshot.

“No, no, no, NO!”

Lee and Carley looked at each other, before running towards the train, Clementine and Duck following them. Upon reaching the train, they found Kenny kneeling over Katjaa, who hand a gun in her limp hand.

“What happened?” Gasped Lee, looking around.

“I-I don’t know.” Kenny’s voice was shaking, “Kat, Katjaa was just standin’ here and she just-”

“…Dad?” Duck’s voice came from behind them.

“Fuck, Duck, don’t look!” Lee tried to obscure Duck’s view, but the boy made his way past them.

“M-mom?”

They were interrupted in their mourning by a voice on the bridge calling down to them. After meeting Omid and Christa, the group worked on moving the tanker, while Kenny show Omid how to work the train and Christa watched the kids. Carley was leaning over the bridge, cutting the coupling after it suddenly shifted. The tanker fell, alerting everyone that the way was clear.

Then they saw the herd, Lee was thankful that neither he or Carley were hurt when they jumped off the bridge. The group sat in silence, with Lee and Carley watching over a sleeping Clementine and Duck, while Kenny drove the train.

Lee hoped Lilly and the others were having an easier time than they were.

RT

Lilly quietly tapped the steering wheel, watching Mark and Ben go around the car and siphoning gas.

“One day,” Lilly started talking, “we’re going to have a nice, stable community.”

“For what?” Asked Larry, looking at Lilly.

“Safety.” Said Lilly, “Security. A decent doctor. I mean, Katjaa’s great, but I think we all want to have check ups without our doctor worrying that she’s going to kill us.”

Larry let out a huff, “That’d be nice.”

RT

Lee looked around the streets, he and Carley had scouted ahead, look around for signs pointing toward the Marsh House, the others moving behind them. They heard a bell go off in the distance.

“What’s that?” Asked Duck, looking up at Kenny.

“They’ve got the bells on timers.” Dismissed Kenny, as Lee checked his watch.

“What bell goes off a twenty past the hour?”

They heard Walkers going towards the bell, thankfully, they weren’t any near them.

“There.” Clementine pointed at a street, “That’s where the hotel is.”

Lee and Carley shared a look, before looking down the street. They saw a handful of Walkers, but the way was mostly clear. Lee paused, spotting a pair of Walkers.

“Lee?” Whispered Carley, “What is it?”

“Clem’s parents.” Answered Lee, just as Clementine spotted them.

Lee quickly put a hand on Clementine’s shoulder, before they all hurried into the Marsh House. After clearing out all the Walkers that were in the hotel, the group put their supplies down. Lee and Carley quietly spoke to Clementine, as the girl broke down.

The following day, Lee and Kenny left to look for a boat, which led to them meeting Molly and to Lee meeting a small group of cancer survivors. Lee got some funny looks when arrived with Vernon in tow.

“He’s making sure I got back safe.” Explained Lee, getting a nod from Carley.

“Kenny told us about the boat issue.” Said Carley, “I guess we’re just going to have to wait for Lilly and the others to get here.”

Lee nodded, noting that Vernon had quietly left, “Hopefully, they’ll get here soon.”

RT

Lilly quietly watched as the SUV Mark had found trailed behind them. She didn’t like it, but Mark had pointed out how the RV had gotten a bit cramped, especially with the supplies. They’d also managed to find a large number of supplies, food, medicine, even a few medical books.

“Do you think they’ve found Clementine’s parents?” Asked Mark, “I know Lee thinks they’re dead, but they might not be.”

“Savannah was overrun.” Dismissed Larry, from the passenger seat, “There’s no way anyone survived.”

“I guess I’m trying to be hopeful.” Responded Mark, “I know I’d like an actual doctor, not offense to Katjaa.”

“Who knows.” Lilly threw a smirk at her father, “Maybe we’ll find a surgeon and get you a transplant, Dad.”

“Ha-ha.” Scoffed Larry, giving her a small scowl.

“Hey,” Ben’s voice came from the radio, “did anyone else think Katjaa was acting weirdly when we split up?”

“She was probably just tired.” Lilly dismissed Ben, “You’ve been with us for a week at most, she’s been with us since the start.”

“No, she was acting strange.” Said Larry, “She was staring at a Walker, yabbering about things weren’t safe. More so than usual.”

Lilly frowned, before spotting the sign for Savannah, “We’re almost there.”

“Finally, my ass is killing me.” Grumbled Larry.

RT

Lee watched Clementine talk with Molly, the young survivor had decided to drop in and hang around. They’d found that Chuck, before becoming homeless, was a doctor. Christa frowned as Carley dragged the lifeless bodies of a couple of Walkers out the door, the taller woman keeping watch for any other walkers.

“Hey, Lee.” Lee looked at Omid, “I know this might be a bit late, but is Kenny okay?”

Lee looked at Kenny, “His wife committed suicide out of nowhere. I think he’s trying to stay stable for his son.”

Omid nodded, “Was taking Clementine to put down her parents the right call? I know that I agreed with you and Carley, but it’s like she’s just, I don’t know, shut down or something.”

“At this point,” Sighed Lee, “she’s going to have to adapt to the way the world is now. I don’t like it, but she knows how dangerous things are now.”

Omid gave a small nod, before Carley and Christa came back in.

“The others are here.” Said Carley, “They manage to find a working SUV.”

“Do they know?” Asked Lee, getting a nod from Carley, “Okay.” He looked at the others, “Time to go.”

The group, carrying their supplies, walked out to the RV. Stopping and casting a look around, Lee boarded the RV and sat next to Clementine a Carley. He hoped the worst had passed.

Next Story: What If AJ got bitten instead of Clementine?