#and then. shes just fine when she wakes up and next episode shes back to working normally.....

[farcillesbian]

Grey's anatomy season 3 is so wild like there's so much stuff happening. coming off the back of the season 2 finale. everything that happens with the ferry. good lord.

[lundenloves]

DAD SIMON AND THE 141 VISITING TO CHECK THE KID OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME PLAPSSLSLSPSLSLSK AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHEN OTHERS HOLD HIS SWEET BABY PATOOTIE PRINCesss

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Anon, I may have strayed from your original thoughts a little. I hold my hands up. At this point, he has been back and had time with her already this is just 141 meeting her. And it's very? Thought-provoking? Possibly not how you imagined? Alas, voila.

Having a newborn allowed for zero quiet. Nothing of the sort was even imagined, sleep was out the window and tiredness was the new trend. It became tougher when Simon had to go back to work, leaving you behind with a long apology and his credit card. What was the card for? You weren’t sure, but made sure it was used like fuck. £17.32 on McDonald’s delivery didn’t seem as painful with his money.

And that’s exactly what you were doing, happily. Baby sleeping on your almost bare chest with a haul of food around you in bed. It was only seven but you had no reason to be up and about, and the reality tv wasn’t going to catch up on itself.

In fact, you were about to reach the episode climax of Love Island. Someone had been mugged off and the producers were keen on making a drama of it, issuing a re-coupling. But. Right before you could skip the credits and fast-track to the next episode, the bedroom door swung open and you screamed. Waking your daughter who naturally began to cry.

"Fucking hell." You frowned at Simon who had quickly shut the door behind him upon seeing you. He wasn't due back till tomorrow. "Scared me.” The scold in your voice was one he ignored, picking up a milk-stained shirt from the floor.

“Put something on, christ.” His voice gruff as he shrugged his jacket off and reached for another t-shirt after wearily tossing the other back to the floor, holding it out. “What, Me?” Black-painted eyes narrowed at you upon holding his child out to him, asking for a trade.

“No. The other person in the room.” You deadpanned, widening your eyes in silent effort for him to take her. “Yes, you.” He did as told, looking down at his daughter blankly. “What’s the rush anyway.”

Although, your question was answered by a loud echo of laughs from downstairs. “All of them?” In reference to the only three men it could be.

“I didn’t agree.” He met your eyes, holding the baby back out to you for the brief second you passed him. Sauntering out to the hallway before he had called your name stiffly, eyes pleading relief of the absolute fucking threat that was his baby. “Take her.”

“You’re fine.” You waved a hand, walking downstairs with him reluctantly following.

It was a shame really, you couldn’t help but snort at the way he held her so high up his chest. “Don’t let Johnny hog her.” Was the only instruction you gave, wandering through to the kitchen where his unit were stood.

“Alright?” The Scot rubbed your shoulder in greeting, “Solid birth n’ all that?” His brows furrowed in genuine care although the question was worded oddly.

“Solid. Johnny.”

He tsked, clutching a hand to his opposite bicep. “Tends to be like that, ae.”

“Speaking from experience?”

He laughed although his eyes fell from yours to over your shoulder. Price held his hand on your back in acknowledgment, his eyes softening with a nod your way. “Christ.” He muttered at the sight in Simon’s arms, taking his hand back and removing his hat. “Congratulations.”

Gaz wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head atop of yours on his shoulder. “It’s mad.” He said more to himself than anyone else, catching eyes with Soap who for once was lost on what to say.

Simon’s eyes were stuck on the baby in his arms, refusing to look up and see the group reaction. Her small hand reached upward, and his finger met her halfway, face unchanged as she wrapped her hand around it. No one said or did anything, only Price who took a step forward to pat the lieutenant's shoulder. The moment was tender, and understood by everyone as such a thing even by Johnny who crossed his arms over his chest and contrastingly pout his bottom lip out to you. “You wanna hold her?” You spoke to him, crossing the space to Simon who had finally looked up. 

“Go on, then.” He pushed his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair. Simon’s eyes met Soap’s, a look of trust, threat and relief spread across his face when you had prompted him to hand her over. “Just a wee thing, ae?” He comfortably took her from Ghost, gently bouncing her and smiling when she had cooed.

“Tiny.” Gaz added, looking to Simon who shifted in his spot - looking around the room, finding comfort in anything other than the tiny being. He was still so unsure of himself. Arms crossed together over his chest in anxious replacement of the tac vest he would usually slot his thumbs into. “Fresh to the world.” 

“Five weeks old.” You looked at Gaz. “Brand. New.”

He shook his head at the idea of a baby, looking to Price who was subtly enough fixated on his lieutenant. “How’re you doing, Simon?” He asked firmly, in a tone Simon wouldn’t ignore or sigh at, one he recognised as important. A tone of order.

“Fine.” He kept it brief, locking eyes with Price who nodded slowly. 

It was hard to read Simon. Period. Even after years being with him, you still couldn’t predict the way he was feeling or what he was going to say about a situation. He distanced himself from his daughter the first few days, intentionally waiting until you woke to sort her out instead of facing himself and his past in the form of the harmless baby.

His allowed paternity leave wasn’t granted extension of more than a week, therefore he left you. And admittedly, although he wouldn’t ever say it, he was glad to get some time away. It had only been a week and he was already itching to be alone, no words you spoke could comfort him. Only the mindless living of a deployment. His desired remedy. 

Ghost was dead silent that whole mission. The unit knew why, although they were tightly instructed by Price to keep their mouths shut. Not to even ask about the kid. So they didn’t, not until today, when it was brought up by the man himself. “Ask about the kid, then.” He said gruffly, unlacing his boots and stomping his feet wide of each other, eyes darting between the three men opposite him.

“She alright, yeah?” Soap asked, receiving a dull nod. 

“We’d love to meet her sometime.” Price continued cautiously, looking to Simon who then nodded, eyes dropping to his boots. There was a moment of silence before he had spoken up in answer to Price, elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped together and rubbing against his mouth. “You don’t live too far from base do you?”

“An hour.” He cleared his throat, “I live an hour away.” 

“We could stop by,” Price was the one to suggest it, dipping to reach a bag behind Soap’s drawer. “This is, from, us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding the small gift bag out to Ghost who only looked up at it. 

“I’m going home tonight.” He said matter of factly. “Just.” A sigh. “Tail me and hand it in to her, she’ll appreciate it better than I will.” Soap smirked at Simon’s falsified reluctance, a hidden invite into his lieutenant's domestic life was on the table and of course he jumped at it. 

And you? You knew Simon had given a skeleton of an invite. It was obvious. 

So now, as your daughter had been passed to Price from Gaz, it felt oddly comforting to you. For Simon, you couldn’t tell as much from the way he was constantly sighing and moving in his spot - obviously discomforted by the idea of his unit being in such an intimate space of his but it was blown over by the end of the short visit. “She’s going to be tall.” Price tilted his head at the baby, thumb swiping across her small arm.

“Oh aye.” Johnny nodded, nudging Simon who stared down at her. “Think she’ll have your eyes?” His efforts granted a shrug from the man next to him.

“The colour keeps changing, but,” You caressed her head in Price’s arms, “They are his shape.” The tone of your voice warming Simon enough for the thought of a smile, the side of his lip curling just enough. 

Gaz nodded to a bag Soap had left on the counter, “There’s some stuff. We didn’t get much time.” He reached for it, holding it out to you. The purpose of the trip.

“And there’s a card with some money.” Johnny added, “See yous’ round the New Year for the wee yin.” The bag had generic baby gifts inside, although it swelled your heart to think of three large military men shopping around for each thing inside

And the card was a treasure in itself, one you would certainly keep, handing it to Simon so you could hug Gaz and Soap, receiving a kiss to your cheek from Price after taking the baby back. “Maybe see you lot closer to Christmas?” You asked, bouncing your daughter when she had begun to stir.

“Course.” Price nodded to Simon, following the other two out the door. You heard them talking about the baby from the threshold, watching as they piled into their respective cars and pulled off with waves and a single salute from Soap. Because, Soap.

Simon sighed once the door was shut, looking down at you. There was something between warmth and sympathy in his eyes, wrapping an arm around the back of your neck and kissing your temple. “You putting this up?” He mumbled, holding out the card before pressing his thumb and pointer finger together against his daughter’s tiny feet in sudden affection. 

“On the mantel for now, probably.” You rubbed his arm, following him through to the living room. 

There was new lightheartedness around him after they had left. Like having his unit meeting his daughter was somehow a weight that had finally been shrugged off after the fact. Even prodding a few more kisses than you would usually receive from him. His brain worked in mysterious ways, although you were not complaining. 

Not now anyway.

simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy

[letoasai]

dp x dc Chronos

An idea that’s probably been touched on before but well.. once more! 

~

It had begun with a meltdown. Being a fifteen year old was tough. High school was the time in your life where you were picking up life skills without even knowing it. Social skills, study habits, responsibilities stacked on responsibilities. It all seemed rather unfair when their brains weren’t done developing yet or… whatever Jazz had been telling him one afternoon. 

The point was, being a teenager wasn’t all making memories and messing around. It was hard. Add on dying to that work load and things got complicated. Add on a ghost portal that allowed ghosts to come and go as they pleased when you were the only one that could safely stop them and things got stressful. 

Parents that were trying to kill you…went without saying. 

Become a king of a realm by fifteen, and see how you handle the sudden workload. Danny had been holding up fine, until he wasn’t. Until a particularly loud boom in his parents lab from whatever their latest torture invention was cause a tremor of fear to shoot up his spine. In an instant, panic was sparked. He wanted to leave, he thought about it often, but how could he just leave Amity Park behind? Would it be better outside of his parents house? Could he live alone?

The fear latched onto his core, and not being able to relax in his own haunt was apparently counterproductive to a healthy, happy halfa. 

Before dying, Danny hadn’t been familiar with panic attacks, now, they weren’t entirely uncommon. One moment he would be overthinking in his bedroom, the next he’d be on his bed or the floor curled up in a ball. Tears flowing and throat clogged, he would sob under the weight of his responsibilities in silence. He doubted his parents would notice, but he hated to worry his sister. Being quiet was a must.

It was one of these episodes that had led to Clockwork appearing in his room, lifting Danny up into his arms like a child without even a weak protest. A post-it was left for Jazz so she wouldn’t worry and the king was returned to the Infinite Realm for a night. 

That was the start of Danny spending time in Clockwork’s citadel any time he was feeling overwhelmed. Being outside of time, he was given the time to relax, sleep, or study. It lessened the burdens of trying to be a normal high school student, hero, and king all at once, or at least gave him a safe place to crash. 

At least once a week, Danny made his way into Clockwork’s lair, long since allowed to enter on a whim unless expressly told otherwise for a day or two. For all Danny was king, he did his best not to interrupt Clockwork’s work and he knew beings from other dimensions popped in from time to time. 

If Clockwork didn’t want him meeting them, he was going to take his opinion to heart and make himself scarce. 

Danny wasn’t sure why he got the privilege to hide behind the ghost of time but he didn’t shun the offer. Any chance to get some sleep was a good one when he had ghosts like Skulker or Johnny waking him up at three in the morning with their bullshit. 

Danny floated over a sofa, backpack forgotten on the floor and books hovering around him. The crown that hovered above his head kept going back and forth between being covered by ice or green flame. It seemed to do what it wanted like a living creature. 

Danny had his own room in the citadel now but he was positive the sofa was put in Clockwork’s viewing room just for him. 

He slept there more often than not. 

“Hey Clockwork.” Danny called. He’d be ignored if Clockwork was deep into peering into the past for future, but would otherwise get an answer. “Can i ask you a question?” 

In the time it took Clockwork to turn to face Danny, his age had altered subtly, five or ten years younger than middle aged. 

Danny had always thought Clockwork had three ages he shifted between. His child form, middle aged adult, and old man. The longer Danny stayed in the citadel though, he learned that wasn’t the case. 

He’d seen Clockwork go from an old man, to a man about twenty. He’d slowly shift younger and younger through his teens until he stopped in his child form. Danny had seen the opposite too. Clockwork as a young preteen growing into an adult in the span of a breath. Dark circles would appear under his eyes and laugh lines etched into his face of a much older man but Danny wouldn’t have called that form elderly. 

It was fascinating. 

“What can i do for you, Majesty?” Clockwork asked, a hint of a smile already curing his lips. He likely already had the conversation they were about to have memorized. 

Danny groaned. “Can’t you just call me Danny? Majesty is so… so…” 

“Accurate?” 

“Bleh…” Danny muttered, slowly floating until he was upside, but his book turned with him so he could continue to look at it. 

Clockwork only laughed at him, that soft noise that said he was amused at Danny’s plight, but Danny was far from offended by it. 

“You’re the master of time, right, but were you the god of time too?” He pointed at his textbook, crown on top of his head doing slow flips. “Chronos?” 

“Ah,” Clockwork chuckled, arms crossing over his chest. His de-aging had abruptly stopped and he instead started growing older again. “Indeed. We are the same.” 

“Really?” Danny perked up and went back to skimming his book while rotating in the air. The edges of his wispy hair were looking like smoke. “So you were an ancient Greek god? That’s cool.” 

“Yes and no.” Clockwork said with a shrug. “Time is a funny thing. I was there, of course but more in the capacity of their stories. I predate the Greeks.” 

“Huh,” Danny hummed, growing quiet again as he read a little more but Clockwork didn’t return to his parade viewing. He instead waited for Danny to continue. “So wait, you were one of the first… titans.” he read. “Cool.” 

“Yes.” Clockwork agreed, “That was a very long time ago now.” 

Danny quirked a brow at a line in the book and glanced back at Clockwork. “‘Destructive and all-devouring’, huh?” 

“I was young.” Clockwork agreed, not bothering to deny it. “We all have that phase.” 

“Uh huh… How did this rule of yours coincide with Pariah Dark?” 

Clockwork grew older still, his beard starting to grow. He also relaxed into a floating/sitting position. “They didn’t really. Much of what you are reading is a mortal human interpretation. If you think stories in your high school become exaggerated, you should hear the true origin stories of the ancients sometime.” 

Danny was snickering. “I’d actually like that but none of them like talking about stuff like that. Did you really eat your kids?”

“Something to that effect. I’m afraid i was not a very good father. I was at a very different place in my life then.” Clockwork said. He didn’t sound particularly proud of it, but he didn’t look broken- hearted either. 

Danny didn’t quite get it. Clockwork had basically been his ghost guardian long before he’d even known that was a thing. He probably would have just assumed Clockwork would make a good dad. Then again, being a ‘present’ dad was probably tough for the god of ‘time’. 

“Hm,” Danny hummed and flipped the page while floating right side up again. He rubbed at his face, the constellation freckles across his cheeks twinkling. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait.” Danny muttered, clearly reading through a paragraph. 

Clockwork’s shoulders were shaking with quiet laughter. It wasn’t usually this easy to coax Danny into doing his homework. 

“You died. Zeus kills you. Did Zeus kill you? Your son?” 

“Yes.” 

There was a moment where Danny’s face warped into something like grief before it disappeared, suspicion forming in it’s place. “Did you know that was gonna happen? Did you let Zeus kill you to maintain a good time line? Did you know you’d just be the ghost master of time?” 

Clockwork just smiled and shrugged. 

“Ancients!” Danny cursed. “Are you serious? You were looking that far ahead already? Even then? That’s insane.” 

“I have not confirmed or denied anything. On the other hand, we all have our talents.” Clockwork mused. “Does this knowledge entertain you?” 

“I mean, it’s cool.” Danny muttered again. Clockwork wasn’t usually so chatty but he was more likely to tell him past things opposed to future things.

He went back to reading and Clockwork went back to his viewing clocks. It was only a few minutes before Danny spoke again. 

“The Elysian Islands. Are those in the Infinity Realm?” Danny asked, “They sound familiar.” 

“Yes.” Clockwork mused. “And before you ask, Zeus didn’t actually have anything to do with them and Pandora would get huffy at the mere mention of it.” 

“Are other gods in the infinite Realm?” 

“Some, but not many of the ones in your book there.” Clockwork said, twirling the staff in his hand. Danny could tell he was doing something along the time stream but Danny had no idea what and he didn’t ask. He was not looking to get sent on another timeline errand. “There are other places where they reside. Some even living. Those in the realm however, are your subjects.” 

“Oh.” Danny muttered, getting the same sour look he got when he was reminded he was king. 

Clockwork lowered his staff, done with his chore. He hovered closer to Danny now, ruffling his hair and dislodging his crown which spun around of its own accord on top of Danny’s head. The sentient accessory very much attached to its new wearer. “If there are any in the Infinite Realm who find you lacking, you need not pay them any mind. Pandora, Fright Knight, or Frostbite would be more than happy to deal with them. You have every right to be here.” 

Danny just grunted. Peer pressure was hard enough at school. It was worse in the Infinite Realm. “I’m not looking for fights.” 

“You do not need to prove yourself. You’ve done that enough. You must merely be you to succeed. You are balance, and balance in life will find you soon enough.” 

“Awe, you haven’t said anything cryptic to me all day. I was starting to get worried.” Danny muttered, a smile tugging. 

“I would never make you go without.” Clockwork said with a fond roll of his eyes. He was so old now that his beard nearly touched the floor. 

“Ancients forbid.” Danny muttered, snagging his book out of the air. “Wait, did you say there were some living? Wait.” His mind whirled to a previous school assignment. “Isn’t Wonder Woman’s dad supposed to be Zeus. Is Wonder Woman your granddaughter?” 

Clockwork just smiled and ruffled his hair again. “Don’t you have homework to finish?” 

“Oh Ancients! She is. Classic deflecting. Holy crap.” 

He let himself drop onto the sofa, over dramatic with his realization. “You have ties to the Justice League!” 

Clockwork did sigh that time. “A charming notion, i suppose.” 

“You’ve as good as admitted it!” Danny grinned, pleased to have learned something new. Had it been anyone else, he might have thought he learned something Clockwork didn’t want him to know. Clockwork knew everything though and only let slip what he wanted to. 

“You are a hero yourself, Danny. No need to be enamored with the League.” Clockwork turned to go back to work, eyes scanning screens before him. 

“Yeah but they’re real heroes.” Danny grumbled, opening his book again. Clockwork’s lack of response meant he wasn’t going to answer that line of thinking. “Fine…” 

The two of them were left in a comfortable silence for a few minutes more until Danny broke it himself. Even though Clockwork knew it was coming, he still jumped when Danny gasped harshly from excitement. 

“Saturn! You’re Saturn! Saturn is like, one of my top three favorite planets!” It was the pure joy on Danny’s face that had Clockwork laughing this time. 

“You would have a top three.” 

“Of course i do!” 

The door had been flung open for him to now talk about space and precisely why he had so many favorite planets specifically. Clockwork let him, happy to let one of his obsessions take its course. Talks about space banished all thoughts of the Justice League and ‘real heroes’. 

Danny knew he’d have to take his history books with a grain of salt. Eaten children or no...Clockwork had always been a good guardian to him. ~~ I might add on to this...  It’s almost like Danny was reading the same wiki page on Chronos that i was... lol 

Part 2  and Part 3 

[phoenixyfriend]

Tony Stark & Natasha Romanova, now in Star Wars

IDK if you folks were ever MEGA into crossovers but did you ever engage with the kind that can more or less be summarized as "isekai but the person 'hit by truck-kun' is a character from a different canon?"

Because that's what this is.

Tony Stark isekai'd into Star Wars (random planet) after dying in Endgame. He knows the movies, but not the supplemental material, as even by the time TPM came out, he was thirty and fucked up and making a name for himself in war. Bad times.

Tony wakes up sixteen and with Nothing to his name but his skills. He does not speak the language. Mostly gets by doing shit like skinning potatoes for a kitchen and pulling weeds and whatnot while he catches up on Basic. (He is apparently fluent, or at least conversational, in French, Spanish, Italian, Latin, and Dari. So Basic would be his Seventh language, and while four of those can be lumped into 'if you learn one, the next will be easier,' Dari is wildly unrelated, so I'd say he could pick up Basic a bit faster than average, especially with 16yo brain elasticity.)

A toddler, two years old with intensely red hair, runs into his shins one day and yells his name very clearly. He looks down, is a little confused, and then a nearby carer from an orphanage jogs up yelling "Nat!" The toddler is Natasha Romanoff. She remembers everything, including dying, but is about twenty-five pounds soaking wet and NOBODY will take her seriously.

It takes some… effort, to explain the situation to the carer. Yes, Tony knows Nat. He worked with uh…. her 'older brother, a man named Clint.' Tony does not currently have the resources for anyone to legally give him custody of a toddler but he's got some motivation to secure housing and a stable income.

He does that. Gets Natasha with him because of course he has to do that. It's the one person he knows. It's Nat.

Turns out she's Force Sensitive, though. A 'natural extension' of her more skillgrinding abilities to read/manipulate people. Tony is not Force Sensitive but he DID recently have a medical episode that took him to a thankfully-government-funded clinic that informed him he has a Bad Heart and will require a pacemaker despite being seventeen.

A Jedi finds Nat while passing through and they Discuss Their Options. This is when Nat is about four. There is a heavy discussion about how her mind is older than her body, so the Jedi would need to be ready for that, but also Tony needs to discuss this with Nat, who was like thirty-nine(?) when she died and thus more than capable of making her own decisions.

Despite fandom generally painting Tony as the most selfish of the Avengers and Natasha as the most coldly practical, they are still heroes who put in some Fucking Effort to become better people, and they come to the conclusion that Natasha would do much more to help this galaxy as a Jedi than as some kid in poverty on a no-name planet. So off she goes!

She's like five years younger than Obi-Wan, the story reveals.

Tony is a bit aimless and the work he's BEEN doing (probably laying down electrical lines or something at this point, IDK, he got into construction or something) gets sideswept by Damage To A Tool. He knows how to fix the tool, but he does not have a forge.

There is a forge in town. He goes to it and says that he can't afford to ask to have it fixed, but he knows how to do it himself, so could he borrow access for a small fee?

This is a Mandalorian armorer. They say no. In fact, they tell him, that would be significantly more expensive than just getting it fixed.

Buuuuuuuuuut for Reasons, the armorer decides that Tony (now 18-19 physically) can do it so long as the Armorer supervises. Tony is competent Enough that the Armorer gives him a datapad and tells him to read it and come back in a week to discuss the topic. Tony warns that Basic is far from his first language and he doesn't have a whole lot of free time, so he probably won't have read it by then. That's fine, they'll just discuss what he has read.

It's about Mando culture, in a mildly propaganda-y way, and Tony comes back to Argue About Religion more than anything. He thinks the Armorer is proselytizing, which they kind of are, but they are also more than happy to discuss the lines between the Mando culture as ethnicity and culture and religion and so on.

This becomes a regular occurence. Tony has made A Friend who has started offering him a side gig doing Basic Village Blacksmith Work that the Armorer deems too menial, like "horse"shoes.

Tony is offered an apprenticeship that he did not expect, on the condition of Becoming Mandalorian.

This is. A heavy decision.

However. Tony is a guy who is at least partly defined by his cool armor. Mandalorians are defined by their cool armor. He has been told, several times, that there are multiple ways to be a Mandalorian. So he accepts, because he decides it's worth for the chance to be somebody who can make a difference in a way he currently can't.

Ten years later, 'Initiate Romanova' goes up to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as they prepare to leave, and neatly informs them that she has a feeling they are going to have a Bad Time on their mission in Mandalore, and that if they need emergency shelter from enemies, to go to an Armorer by the name of Tony Stark, because that's her brother so she knows that he's going to be friendly to Jedi. (Tony has sent her a small handful of messages, through channels both official and not, about big life events.)

Of course, shit hits the fan and the two plus Satine end up finding Tony's forge and he hides them in his Underground Bunker, which actually has a tunnel to a cave system that is safer than the bunker itself. Because reasons. (IN A CAVE. WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS.)

He has helper droids! They are named indirectly after friends from the Past Life, things like Spangles.

On their way back after the mission they swing by to say hi and he asks them to bring something to Natasha and it's a matryoshka doll set he made based on the Avengers (it goes based on age so the outermost is Thor, followed by I think Bruce, Rhodey, Tony, Clint, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vision), as well as a plushie he had custom made by somebody in town of a Bird With Archery Gear, even though she's too old for that stuff.

Even among the Jedi, Natasha is WEIRD and SERIOUS and everyone's pretty damn sure she's going to be a Shadow, or at least do a HECK of a lot of undercover work.

IDK how this plays out but Tony is definitely keeping an eye on politics so he can figure out the Palpatine rise to power and remind Natasha in case she's forgotten because when they first split they didn't, either of them, know what to expect in regards to her memory given the whole Baby Brain issue.

"Why is Tony an Armorer"

Okay some more thoughts!

I think Tony's aggressively atheist and consistently watching whoever claims to be Mand'alor with a critical eye in case he has to step in, and does not take any references to ka'ra with any real seriousness. That said. He's an Armorer now. A weird one who refuses like half his clients for Ethics Reasons, but technically a cultural authority figure who's allowed to argue with the Mand’alor.

@penpalpixie:

fsr the initial meeting scenario with the armorer bugs me,like would they really just let him" but tbf Tony knows how to steamroll people and could probably dissect the forge in an instant.

Which, yeah, in my defense, I put this together in about two hours so some of it's a bit wonk? BUT. @threebea had a good suggestion for how/why the Armorer had Tony actually do things in the forge instead of telling him to scram:

Maybe Tony has been doing some 'crafting' on the side maybe droid repairs or modifications which is how the Armorer first sort of hears about him and then one day there's the kid that people have been mentioning the Stars aligned here's a pamphlet. He can't make a living off gizmos in his situation since most of what Star wars has is advanced tech and to do anything impressive he would need more resources and more of an understanding of the mathematics of this universe (Stares at ceiling one night trying to figure out if the law of relativity would be a thing here). That might slow him down just like… his math doesn't actually work here so on top of language he would have to learn things to do complicated stuff that he could already buy for a credit. But with armory it's concepts he knows well and adding weapons to armor especially no lethal ones is something he also knows. Mandalorian armor with UNI BEAM

When it comes to canon, he knows THE big thing (Palpatine is Sidious) and basically nothing else. He thinks he remembers the clones being Mando? but he's honestly not even sure he remembers the original Fett's first name correctly. He knows the guy is a Fett, because Boba was a cultural mainstay for Tony's childhood, so like, it was nice to have some backstory, but he's honestly not sure how likely "that baby Mand'alor that went missing" is to being Boba's plot-relevant dad. Could be an uncle for all he knows, or just a guy with the same last name.

@firebirdeternal:

I feel like to keep things fair Tony should be able to scale up a little harder than the average Mandalorian. Yeah all his tech knowledge is a bit out-dated and he isn't likely to get an arc reactor running in a way that'll be more powerful than anything locally available, but I feel like he'd adapt pretty darn quickly to available tech and start Improving Things Nat's skills all translate extremely well, once she's not got stumpy toddler body she's basically back to her old level PLUS telekinesis and wibbly force nonsense although I understand if that's also not the focus of the fic, being less "And now there's some Avengers Here (Powerset)" and more "And now there's some Avengers Here (Attitudes and Characters)"

Nat is very excited to Break Into Tony's Cave.

NGL this was initially going to be a Tony Raises Nat thing but I couldn't ultimately justify her NOT going the Jedi route after I realized I wanted her to be Sensitive.

There was also a discarded plot idea about her being a little older and having gone undercover in death watch, because Tony got kidnapped to work for them and got through to her, where she gets to use her Bites as a teen but I scrapped it.

I do think she successfully argues to her Master to visit him at 14 to get light armor though.

Nat's the sneakiest little initiate and also. Very, very controlled in the scary way during spars.

Bea:

Natasha as a Jedi is so good. Like, she would probably have a bit of dissonance between Jedi training and the training she received as a child, and it might help her work through some things. Nat: I've known Yoda for three days but if anything happened to him I would kil-- wait uh (pivots) I would be very sad. She would try to sneak up on council members. It is like a kitten stalking a cat on the outside, but also she's a grown woman and wants to be that good. (AU of this If Quinlan ever saw this he'd adopt her: Quinlan: Tholme I found a new padawan sister. Get training Tholme: [literally just finished with Quinlan. Had planned to take a vacation. Meditate. Drink. He loves his kid but needs literally a moment here] Tholme: She's seven. Quinlan: I was four. Tholme: … Quinlan: She has a secret tragic background toooo I know you like that 😄 Tholme: [Sigh] Nat: …wait is he supposed to be Sherlock Holmes. I think he's space Sherlock Holmes. Need to ask Tony if Star Wars had Sherlock Holmes? lol yeah Tholme just feels like he could blend well with an avengers story, and a Black Widow story in particular)

Not joking when I say I considered if I could squeeze Tholme into the timeline.

Tony sends her music files that he thinks sounds Particularly Ballet to her because he remembers how much she liked dancing, as the main or even only positive thing from her Red Room training, and how she once said that if she hadn't become a spy, she thinks she'd have liked to be a ballerina.

The first time they see each other in person in years is her visiting for baby armor at 14 and is hesitant to hug him because like. Yeah he's her "brother" and there were a few years where they were acting as such and he was helping her with Basic Tasks that she doesn't like to think about too much because it's embarrassing, and they cuddled THEN, because she was Physically Baby, but they're just coworkers in reality, right? Should she hug him? If only to sell the bit to her Jedi Master?

Tony is also not the most huggy person and isn't sure if HE should hug Nat because he remembers jokey stabbing threats from when they were Avengers and like. Does she still feel that way, now that she's not a bumbling like tot?

They are both unsure of if hugging is on the table and it's the Jedi Master who says "you know, you're allowed to hug, if you want" under the impression that they aren't sure if the Jedi would allow it. And then the hug is very tight and loving because at least subconsciously they DID both want that.

The Jedi Master takes a pic.

Bea:

Jedi master: (aw) It's one of those "we've been in life or death situations together and also grew up together kinda sorta and also we're trauma bonded," and the first opportunity to solidify Family as their dynamic they both jump in feet first. And both of them were like. Extremely lonely children probably. In different ways but still.

(It's why the Hawkeye plushie didn't make her CRY, per se, but she does start keeping it in her bed even though she's Too Old for these things.)

When it comes to hugging, Nat is understandably concerned about overstepping and like. "Taking" Morgan's place. (I'm going with Tony and Nat being friends (or at least friendly) from A1 to A2, and during the blip she stopped by for dinner once in a while. Nat doing her best to bring Child Appropriate Gifts for Morgan (she misses being Aunt Nat for the Barton kids).) Or as Bea put it: Tony: Are you spying on me or are we doing people things? Nat: Can't it be both?

Anyway, their dynamic is a weird little midpoint once they're in Star Wars but then they get to a point in the armor making where Tony takes a break on a bench and she slips in under his arm to cuddle and it's just Nice (even though he's kinda sweaty and gross from the blacksmithing).

Bea:

Tony: ….. so……. is Yoda… does he look like… is he…. Nat: …???? Tony: You saw the Muppets right? Is he still a Muppet? Nat: [totally has seen the Muppets] what's a Muppet? Tony: You're killing your brother, Nat ;A;

Also the comedy of having MULTIPLE "secret languages" that nobody can translate.

It's handy, too. Between her and Tony, but also lots of languages to give different uses to. Can teach one to a specific faction for communication. OH, the poor Threepio units! She got stuck in a room with one once, and don't get my wrong, they can pick up a language fast, but they need to hear long enough sampling of it. Nat: I'm not teaching you stop asking I do agree too that Tony and Nat no matter their circumstances would be working towards stopping Palpatine. Like is this a real space is this a dream is this another dimension that just happens to be like a movie in ours? Doesn't matter the dictator is going down.

The Jedi Master is somewhat aware of the whole 'used to be an adult, sort of' thing. I don't know that they believe she's linearly matured but probably they think it's something like what I did in Jedi Babies It's definitely more explicit with a mind healer she got assigned soon after arrival.

She didn't decide whether to play it straight and "get help" or just try to game the system until she was actually sitting down. But she'd been having screaming night terrors about things she experienced in her first life, so.

Pixie:

She meets Anakin after TPM (if it's not avoided) when Obi-Wan's trying to settle him in and goes "ah, I know how to handle this kid." At some point Anakin and Tony end up sending each other various schematics.

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Three)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): angstttttttt

Word Count: 2100, Part 3/?

No summary because "so much happened i don't even know what to think" - @sapphicantics

Thank you once again to @sapphicantics for being the best ever <3

Part 1 / Part 2

You saw it coming but it surprised you all the same. Not even two minutes into the fourth episode of Real Housewives that Regina had insisted on starting, she was completely passed out on your shoulder.

Your surprise wasn’t at the fact that she fell asleep, the girls’ exhaustion was obvious. What shook you was that she ended up comfortably tucked against your side, her head leaning on your shoulder, and her gentle breaths tickling your neck. 

You took her Mac off of her lap and gently closed it, setting it aside on the bed while trying to avoid moving too much. 

It was late. If you were someone else, your parents might have expected you home by now. Might even be calling to find out where you were. Might have bothered to get the phone number of the person’s house you were going to in the first place. But you weren’t someone else and you were fairly confident that your presence wasn’t missed, nor would your absence be noticed. 

It was this thought process that pulled a deep sigh out of you which ended up waking Regina. She sat up with a bit of a start and glanced around her room and then back at you, and your shoulder, as she processed where she had positioned herself in her sleep-addled state.

“What… I fell asleep?” She furrowed her brows as she noticed the small trail of drool that had escaped the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away quickly and grumbled, “fucking Christ…” 

“Hey, it’s okay, you were tired. You should go back to sleep.” You started to scoot to the edge of the bed, intending to get up and get going so as to not prolong her embarrassment. 

The blonde, however, did not allow this. She reached out and grasped your wrist, “what are you doing?” 

You stared at her, “I… I’m gonna get out of your hair so you can rest.” 

“No!” Her cheeks flushed the second she realized how she sounded, “no… I mean… I can’t drive right now and I’m not letting you walk home when it’s this late. Just stay.” 

“Stay? You’re sure?” 

“Yeah…” she nodded, “of course, I’m sure. You can, right?” 

“I guess so… is there, like a guest room or a couch you want me on?” 

“What are you talking about? No, just stay here.” 

“What? Won’t that bother you?” 

“No, dummy. Clearly I was able to sleep just fine with you here,” she tried to stop it but Regina couldn’t help but yawn and it made you smile. It was cute. 

“Just,” she fought to speak through the yawn, “grab some clothes you can sleep in out of my closet and then get back in bed…” 

“Regina, are you-“ 

“Shut up. Yes, I’m sure.” She started shoving decorative pillows off of the bed and then slid under the covers and collapsed onto her own pillow. “And hurry up and turn the light off on your way back.” 

You watched her close her eyes and you knew there was no more back and forth to be had. You walked over to Regina’s closet and eventually found a drawer containing a mixture of old summer camp t shirts and knit shorts so you hastily changed into them, turned off the bedroom light, and crawled into Regina’s bed, opposite from her. 

You pulled the covers over yourself and exhaled. Her bed was so comfortable it was insane. It was insane for anyone to have a bed this nice.

And how did her bed smell so good, too? Did the linens get washed every day? You nuzzled your face into the pillow and breathed in. It wasn't a laundry detergent smell, it just smelled like her. 

You closed your eyes and got comfortable. You could hear Regina’s breathing slow down next to you and then you heard her whisper, “‘night.” 

“G’night, Regina.” 

You had the most peaceful sleep of your life. You didn’t know when you last slept in past 8 am at the latest. But at 10 am on this Sunday morning at the George’s, you were still blissfully unaware of the world. 

It wasn’t until you felt motion in the bed that you started to come to. Your eyes cracked open just slightly and were met with an expanse of blonde hair. 

That was weird. 

Your senses clarified quickly then and you realized that your arm was draped over a body, that the body’s back was against your front, that yours and the body’s legs were intertwined. 

You were squarely in the center of your pillow, though. It was the other body that had shifted in the night. Her half of the bed was empty and her bottom arm splayed across her pillow, which she had abandoned in favor of taking the edge of yours. 

The girl took a deep breath and shifted slightly again, rubbing one of her legs against yours. 

You didn’t know what to do. Waking her would mean confronting this situation right now. Pretending not to notice and going back to sleep felt like it would be violating somehow… you ultimately decided the former was better. 

Gently, you gave her upper arm a slight shake and whispered, “Regina… hey, Regina…” 

She grumbled but didn’t wake up. 

You tried again, “Regina… Gina…” 

The blonde sniffled and groaned, “whattime’sit?” 

“Uh… I don’t know,” you answered, “Regina, you’re…” 

She woke up a little more, felt you so close to her, felt that she wasn’t entirely on her side of the bed. She started to sit up. 

“We must’ve-“ 

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” Regina sat up the rest of the way and pushed your arm off of her, “this was a mistake.” 

You sat up, too, startled by this reaction, “Regina wait, it’s fine-“ 

“No, shut up. My mom can’t see us like this. You need to get up.” 

“Regina, hold on-“ 

“Are you listening?” She hissed, “get up. Now. This was stupid, my fault for having you stay in the bed. We’re going to get dressed and I’m driving you home.” The blonde got out of her bed and beelined for her vanity where she quickly sat down and began harshly brushing through her hair. 

You stood up and took a few steps across the room to go be by her, “Regina, wait, can we talk about this?” 

She looked at you through the mirror and she frowned, “no. We can’t. Get changed.” 

Ten minutes later, Regina was quietly ushering you out the front door of her house and unlocked her Jeep with a click of the key fob. She wordlessly got into her seat and buckled and waited for you to do the same, before backing out of her driveway and starting the route to your house. 

“Regina-“ 

“Whatever you might think last night was… it wasn’t, okay?” 

“What do you mean what I think? I… wait, Regina, I don’t understand. Why are you freaking out? It wasn’t a big deal.” 

“That’s easy for you to say, everyone already thinks you’re a lesbian.” 

“What?”

Regina stepped on her brake as a yellow light turned red and then she turned to face you. 

“That can’t happen again. You can tutor me. You can come to my house like I promised. But that cannot happen again.” 

“But WHAT happened?!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, but you were panicking. 

Regina stared at you. A car behind you honked because the light had turned green. She clenched her jaw and focused on the road again. 

“Pull over.” 

“No.”

“Pull over, Regina.” 

She didn’t respond but she turned her blinker on and pulled to the side of the road and parked on the shoulder. 

“I’m not going home until you tell me what the fuck is going on right the fuck now.” 

She looked at you silently. Her face and eyes were red, like she was on the brink of tears.

Your expression softened, “Regina, please.” 

“You don’t get it, do you?” 

“Obviously not.” 

The blonde sighed and dropped her face into her hands, “for someone who is so smart, you are so stupid…” 

“Then make it make sense. Please.” 

She took a deep breath and then sat back up, rubbing her eyes as she did so, “you’re so sweet… of course you don’t get it.” She faced you then and she looked more upset than you’d seen her, “it was on purpose… I… I wanted to cuddle with you.” 

“You… okay… so?” 

“That’s a bad thing!” 

“Why? Because I’m a nerd?” 

“No! Because you’re not a guy! I can’t like you… like that…” 

You just stared at her. 

“Say something!” 

“I don’t know what to say!” 

“I can’t get that close to you… not again… I can’t… my family can’t know… the school can’t know that… that…” 

“That you might like girls?” 

“That I do like girls. That I only like girls. I’m not out and I can’t come out and so I sure as hell can’t let what happened happen again because… because I…” 

You waited for her to continue. 

“Because I… will want it to keep happening… and then I won’t be able to stop it…” 

“Wait, so… so I don’t get a say? I just… I just have to do whatever the fuck you tell me to… you get to tell me this and then it’s just over? There’s no trying? What if I liked cuddling with you? What if I felt the same way?” 

“Stop. You can’t say stuff like that… you…” Regina started to shake, gasping for air in rapid and shallow breaths as her eyes started to water, “you can’t… I c-can’t… I can’t be… with you… you can’t like me… I can’t-t I can’t…” she was hyperventilating. You reached out and tried to hold her shoulders but she shook you off, smacking your hands away. 

“Regina, breathe… breathe…” you reached for her again only to be met with the same resistance, “no, no. Let me.” You leaned across the center console and wrapped your arms around her in a tight hug. 

Regina gripped your forearm in her hands and squeezed hard. Her manicure pressed crescent moons into your skin and her knuckles were white with the force of her grasp, but you only squeezed her tighter and whispered into her ear, “breathe… just breathe… you’re okay… breathe… come on, now… breathe in… and breathe out… in… out…” 

It took a minute but eventually she followed your instructions and her body started to relax. Her breathing slowed. She coughed and took a deep, but shaky, breath. 

You pressed your forehead against her temple and kept your arms around her while she still held tight to you. 

“I can’t do this…” 

“You can’t do what?”

Regina just shook her head in refusal to answer. 

“Regina… what would make you happy?” 

“That doesn’t matter…” 

“Yes it does. That’s the only thing that matters.”

“No… no…” 

“Regina… look at me.” 

She shook her head in defiance.

“Please?” 

She didn’t respond. 

You reached out and gently tucked your index finger beneath her chin, turning her head to face you, “what would make you happy, Regina?” 

She met your eyes, nothing short of terror written in her expression. She thought for a long moment and then whispered, “I’ve never… felt as free… as I felt last night… with you…” 

You nodded, your own expression saddened by the seriousness of her statement. 

She took another shuddering breath in, “but it’s always going to come crashing down…”

“No… no, come on… it doesn’t have to… can we try… can we please try to figure this out? Together?” 

Regina bit her bottom lip and shook her head, fighting back tears, “n-no… I’m sorry… I can’t. I can’t do this.” 

“Regina-“ 

She pushed your arms away again and then cleared her throat as she pulled her visor down and dabbed her eyes and fixed her hair. 

You stared at her in shock. 

She turned the car back on and pulled back out onto the road. 

“Regina… Regina, please.” 

She shook her head, “I’m taking you home. I’m sorry.” 

“This is fine.” 

“But this isn’t anywhere.” 

“It’s close enough.” 

The blonde glanced over at you, about to ask further questions, but then she just nodded and pulled over. 

You unbuckled and grabbed your backpack off the floor of the car and tried to open the door but she hadn’t unlocked it for you yet. 

“I really am sorry.” 

“Forget it, okay?” 

The blonde frowned. 

“Are you gonna let me out or not?” 

Regina clicked the button to unlock the doors and you got out of the car. Before walking away, you looked at her again, “wait, your chemistry quiz…” 

Regina sighed, “I’ll be fine. I… I just wanted you to come over.”

Next Chapter

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 20

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Graphic depictions of illness; allusions to major medical procedure; accidental violence (m on f); allusions to child abuse

A/N: Finally. I make no excuses and a lot of apologies. Daryl is going through it right now but it's not just my normal whump. Reader gets to find herself again. I say that as vaguely as possible but you'll see at the end and in coming chapters.

A day and a half. A full fucking thirty six hours. The group still hadn’t returned. While it was logical to be concerned for their safety, you just couldn’t seem to look any further than the man on the bed no more than a foot in front of you. His fever raged and his breathing deteriorated, shallow rattles and painful fits of coughing. Still, those were less distressing than the moments he would wake, not remembering where or when he was. 

During one such episode, you had been a peer from school. An innocent girl who had followed him home one day to catch crawdads in the creek behind his house. His one friend that he had to hide in the crawlspace until he could get his father to beat on him instead of looking for you. He didn’t have any friends. You were special, he said. The bruises were worth it. 

Of all the ways to get Daryl to talk about what had happened to him, this wasn’t what you had expected. 

To make matters worse, he had become violent, waking in a rage that no one could understand. He was swinging punches and trying to leave the bed, Lori holding you away from him while Hershel of all people tried to subdue him alone. It was the grating of his own voice against his throat that had brought on the coughing, the force of which had eventually tired him out. 

You had appreciated the concern but had asked Lori not to come between you and Daryl again. Though she had retreated in a huff, Carol later assured you that she was only concerned for the safety of you and the baby. She wasn’t angry and she wasn’t judging Daryl for something over which he had no control. 

Things were quiet at the moment. You hummed and carded your fingers through the archer’s hair. He had been sleeping without interruption for a little over an hour, but his breaths were seeming even more labored. 

You were beyond exhausted. Two or three hours of sleep, barely eating between bouts of nausea, you were nearly to the point of being confined to that sickbed right alongside Daryl. 

“How’re the patients?” 

You didn’t lift your head, only your eyes. “Baby and I are fine. Daryl sounds worse than when you were here earlier.”

“Let’s take a look at you two and then I’ll examine Daryl.” 

There was no point in arguing. You didn’t have the energy. Sitting up straight in the chair, your back protested from the time spent bowed over the edge of the mattress, but you continued the journey to relax against the backrest. Your hand never released Daryl’s. 

Hershel motioned toward your sweater in a silent request for permission and received a mumbled knock yourself out in reply. Baby Dixon was still for the moment after hours of kicking and rolling and seemingly trying to fit a foot between your ribs. The veterinarian smiled gently upon removing the stethoscope and rolling down your sweater. You were grateful for the small gesture, likely would have left it up if he hadn’t taken the initiative. 

“Heartbeat’s strong. Seems to be doing just fine according to my limited knowledge. You really should get some rest yourself. Eat something, drink more.” His stethoscope was already nearing Daryl’s chest when you noticed it; the twitch of a hand before fingers curled into a fist. 

“Daryl, no!” You weren’t meaning to hurt the old man, inwardly wincing when you heard the thud of his body hit the floor. You were just quick enough to shove him out of the way, Daryl’s fist barely grazing your cheek instead. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s Y/N. You’re sick.” You kept your voice soft, right next to his ear, holding him firmly in a way he couldn’t escape in his weakened state. 

“Hershel! Y/N!” Carol and Lori burst into the room, Beth just behind them. You heard the girl begin to cry and tend to her father but the other two were quiet. 

“Where—dunno—can’t think—”

“I know, Daryl. It’s the fever.” He was coughing into your shoulder, his skin hot and dry where it touched yours. “You’re safe. I’m here. Thumper’s here.” The archer made a sound in his throat and by some miracle, you knew what it meant. Otherwise keeping your hold on him, you fumbled for his hand and pressed it firmly to the side of your belly. “Feel that? You woke them up too.” Your lip was wobbling, your voice threatening to do the same. “They just want their daddy to rest now so they can too. How ‘bout it, hmm?”

You pulled back slowly, steeling yourself for whatever it was you would see in his eyes. You almost whimpered when there was nothing short of exhausted recognition. 

“D’I hurt—” 

Your cheek burned and felt wet, but you shook your head. No, you wouldn’t tell him while he was like that. “I tripped. Face-planted. You definitely would have laughed.” He didn’t believe you, that much was obvious, but thank heavens for Thumper and a well placed punt straight to Daryl’s palm. His reaction was sluggish, head bowing to watch his hand rub circles over that spot. 

“Hey, kid. Go—easy on—your mama.”

“How about you go easy on their mama too and drink some water for me?” With your hand behind his head, you slowly guided him to his mountain of pillows. “Just a bit, okay?” He gave no answer. His palm continued to caress your bump. You wondered if he would still be so affectionate once he realized you weren’t alone in the room. 

With one hand raising his head slightly, the other tipped the cup to lips. He didn’t drink as much as you’d hoped but it was something. His eyes were closed but his fingers remained steady, curling and straightening over where you could feel the ripples of movement. It was as if they could sense one another. Daryl was calm, only the cough moving him at all. The baby’s movements were gentle waves below his hand. 

You didn’t dare move, allowing him the comfort he likely didn’t even know he was seeking. If you were being honest, you were relaxing a little as well. With a sigh, both tired and contented, you slouched but stayed next to him. 

“Is he okay?” You asked, finally rolling your head toward the others. Beth and Carol were getting Hershel to his feet, Lori pacing behind them with an expression you just didn’t like. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” The man answered for himself, patting Beth’s hand so that she would release him. 

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, risking placing your hand over Daryl’s. When his fingers went still, you gently guided his palm back and forth over your belly. 

“You did nothing wrong, Y/N. I should have been more—”

“He’s going to seriously hurt one of us.” Lori interjected, continuing her pacing. You shot her a warning look, eyes narrowing when she shook her head. “I understand this is out of his control, but this is Daryl and out of all of us, he’s hardwired for violence.”

“Lori, you should go.” You spoke quietly, not willing to disrupt any rest the archer might be getting. You could only pray that he hadn’t heard her careless comment. 

“We should just take shifts to come check in on him. You could rest and eat, we’d probably hear him cou—”

“Are you seriously suggesting I leave him alone up here?” Where the anger was coming from, you had no idea. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the concern for Daryl that was constantly eating at you. It hardly mattered, you’d made it clear that she was crossing a line. Your tone was dripping with venom. “Carol.” You beckoned, eyes remaining on Rick’s wife. “Please, take Lori downstairs before I say or do something I would definitely regret.”

“Come on, Lori.” You heard Carol say quietly, a heated glare continuing between you and the other woman as she was led from the room. Once the door closed, your anger dissolved as quickly as it had materialized. “Beth—Hershel, you know—”

“We know he’d never hurt any of us on purpose.” The girl said in that sweet southern tone of hers. “You neither.”

“Having two expectant mothers in one room with enough charged energy was just asking for an explosion of some sort. Now don’t you stress yourself over it any further.” As he neared, Hershel squeezed your shoulder. “Think you might be able to keep him from becoming agitated long enough for me to take a listen?” He lifted the stethoscope. 

You nodded with a sniffle, wiping away a tear. “Yeah. If you can go around, I have an idea.” The old man rounded the bed while you crawled up beside Daryl, gently pulling him onto his side and against your chest. Once situated, you pulled his hand back onto your belly, and though he didn’t move it, you felt him relax a little further into you. “Daryl.” You whispered into his hair. “Hershel’s gonna listen to your lungs. The stethoscope is gonna be cold but your skin is hot from the fever. I’m right here. And it’s just Hershel.” 

You carded your fingers through his hair while Beth leaned over you to clean the cut on your cheek, hands just as gentle as her father’s. There wasn’t so much as a flinch when the cold instrument pressed against the archer’s back. You paid attention to the his reactions—or lack thereof—but you also watched Hershel and the way his expression fell. It was then you knew he would tell you nothing good.

“His right lung is full of fluid. It’s hindering his ability to breathe normally. The cough is still productive?” You nodded slowly. “May I see?” Well, that was disgusting but Beth carefully pinched one edge of a cloth and carried it to Hershel. You didn’t care to have that ick on your fingers.

Your attention turned back to Daryl, his weight heavy on your side, chest rattling, cheeks flushed, and lips pale. When would the group be back? Were they okay? Should you plan to leave?

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?” You didn’t look up from stroking the archer’s cheek until your name was said again. The expression you were met with was grim. You had your concerns about the pink frothy liquid that accompanied the mucus. Fuck. You should have told Hershel immediately. “What is it?” 

“If I don’t do something about the fluid in his lung, it is possible he may—for lack of a better term—drown.” 

“When they get back—” He cut you off with a shake of his head.

“This can’t wait that long. We don’t know if—we’re not sure when they’ll return. I need to see if I have anything that I can use. What we were able to grab from the farm was extremely limited and even that has been cut in half with being on the road.” Hershel was mentally running through inventory as he began to leave the room with his daughter in tow, turning but not meeting your eyes. “I’ll need him awake for this.”

Start waking him up now. That’s what he meant. You were horrified. You had no idea how to thoroughly explain to Daryl what was going to happen, because you didn’t know. Why did he need to be awake? ‘Oh, you’re going to drown slowly if we don’t do this now.’ How badly would it hurt? 

“There’s a—time an’ place—to be pullin’ on—a man’s hair an’ this—ain’t it.”

You sputtered out apologies and let go immediately. “I didn’t even realize—I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t even looking at you, half lidded eyes blinking slowly and staring toward the wall. Your tight grip returned but this time on his bicep, pulling him more snugly into your side but easing when he buried his face against your sweater to cough. Gross, but what could you do?  “Daryl. Do you think you could try to—”

“Heard the—the old man. M’awake.” 

The two of you laid in silence, not necessarily uncomfortable but with the looming fear of what was to come and if could even possibly help him. Your fingers ran a trail up and down his arm while his hand splayed out over your belly, eventually sliding around to your side to shift you toward him. Face to face, you could now clearly see the exhaustion, the way the illness was slowly tearing him down, and the resignation in his eyes.

“I’m scared.” The words slipped from your tongue unbidden, and though his expression didn’t change, he brought a fiercely trembling hand to your cheek, hot against your skin.

“Me too.” The admission shocked you to your core. Daryl always strived to be strong for everyone. Hell, it was what led him to his current position in the first place, trudging on while ill just to make sure you and the group—mostly you—were fed. “Didn’t fall.” His thumb barely brushed the bruised cut on your cheek. “M’so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He opened his mouth, presumably to speak but quickly turned his face into the pillow to cough harshly, the force rocking his body hard enough to jar your own. You twisted to reach for a cloth, shushing him when his hold grew tighter, openly displaying his discontent at the thought of you moving away.

With gentle swipes, you wiped his face and then the pillow, folding the fabric before laying it above your heads for easy access. 

“I don’t wanna do this without you. Thumper needs their daddy. And,” you swallowed, face crumbling and tears stinging your waterline, “I need their daddy too.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Why the hell was he comforting you when he was the one being ravaged by an illness that would have been easily remedied in the old world? You really were weak, dependent. Where was the headstrong woman that had shown no fear on her own during the first days of the turn? “Stop—stop lookin’ at me—like m’already dead.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling away abruptly to cover a fit of barking coughs that left him groaning, face lined with pain while he gasped and heaved to catch his breath.

You had no chance to offer him any sort of comfort before there came a knock and Hershel entered, Carol at his heels. “We have what we need. Well, what can be used in place of what we need.” He held some sort of thin tubing, a syringe, and a plastic mixing bowl, while Carol carried a mostly empty bottle of whiskey, some gauze, tape, and a knife. Even with your wide eyes displaying a naked fear, Daryl never turned to look. “Is he awake?”

“Get it—get on with it.” He grumbled, weak but to the point.

Hershel merely shook his head with that fond smile he had developed toward your group since the farm. “Carol, could you sanitize the knife?” Seeing her pour a portion of the liquid over the blade made your stomach turn, or maybe it was your own illness rearing its ugly head to take advantage of your weakened state. Regardless, you looked away, finding Daryl’s eyes on your own. “First, I’ll need to find the right spot. You’ll have to be completely still for this, son.”

“Yeah, okay. Got—got it.” The archer wheezed. In your peripheral, you could see the veterinarian’s arm moving, pressing and counting the ribs in search of the correct site. Daryl was rigid, his eyes squinted but remaining open and focused on you with the occasional flitting down to where your swollen belly pressed against him. His hand fisted into the fabric of your sweater on your hip.

“Okay, I’m going to—”

“Just do—just do it for christ sake.” 

The old man was still behind him for a moment, long enough to draw your gaze to his. He nodded, a silent request for you to do what you could to keep Daryl still and compliant. Drawing your eyes back to the dull blue that was watching you with such intensity that you felt crushed under the weight, well, that must have been enough for Hershel to continue.

Daryl made a noise in the back of his throat, the slightest spasm of pain indicating that the knife had pierced his skin. Hershel and Carol were moving behind Daryl, communicating through whispers and gestures while you felt Daryl’s arm begin to shake, your sweater pulling tight against your body.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good, Daryl.” 

His eyes suddenly clamped shut, your sweater rising away from your hip when he twisted his fist. The seconds felt like minutes that felt like hours of watching him tremble with fever, weakness, and restraint. Finally, there came the blessed sound of liquid hitting the bottom of the plastic bowl. 

“Catheter is in place as best I can tell. We’re getting fluid. Don’t hold your breath, son. Nice and slow.”

You could tell he was trying, each breath a wheeze laced with pain. Slowly, you moved your hand from his arm to his face, just brushing your fingers over the stubble on his cheek. “We need to start thinking of names, you know. Thumper is cute but the baby isn’t a rabbit even though they feel like one sometimes.” Daryl’s eyes opened, tears pricking at the pinched corners. You knew he couldn’t answer you and so did he, probably couldn’t even if he tried. “I try to picture what they may look like. I hope they look like you, big blue eyes and maybe even a permanent scowl so that when they smile, it’ll be the most beautiful thing we’ve ever seen.” You thumbed away a tear that escaped down across the bridge of his nose toward the other eye.

When his throat spasmed, you thought maybe he was going to be sick but then he began to cough, loud and agonizing and dry. Your wide eyes found Hershel’s, the calm in the old man’s gaze fizzling out your terror.

“It’s okay. Just keep him still. The coughing forces out more fluid. It’s almost over.”

As painful as it was for Daryl, it was agonizing for you to watch him suffer with no way to help him. “It’s almost done. You’re doing great. Stay still and stay awake. Can you look at me?” He answered with the smallest of nods, an almost imperceptible movement. Carol moved closer to Hershel. It was torture to not know what they were doing out of your sight but at the same time, an immense relief. The zip of tape being pulled and torn was surely a sign of the procedure coming to an end.

But it was when Daryl drew in the deepest breath you had heard in two days that you felt yourself relax, truly and utterly just drain of tension, placing your forehead against his. “It’s over. Just rest now.” You focused on his even breaths, just the slightest wheeze, the barely audible rattle. He was limp against you, his hand still tangled in your sweater but no longer holding on. The archer was exhausted and sleep had claimed him almost instantly.

“Hershel?” You need not ask anything. He knew.

“It won’t last long, but it buys us some time. The incision was deep but small. I will examine him in a little while, make sure it stays clean. In the meantime, listen for any struggles with breathing. Let him rest.”

You nodded, your forehead brushing against Daryl’s. The used supplies had been gathered and the old man had already made his way downstairs. You caught Carol’s eye as she started to close the door.

“An hour.” You stated flatly.

“What?” The other woman stepped back into the room, her brow drawn.

“I’m giving them one hour. If they’re not back, I want the list and I’m going. There won’t be a discussion.” No room for argument. “You sit with him while I’m gone. You’re the only other person he really trusts.” She looked as if she might object, but when her shoulders relaxed, you knew you’d won. With a nod, she left the room.

Without Daryl’s desperate attempts to breathe, it was so quiet, a sound you welcomed and reveled in so deeply. Hershel had opened a doorway and you’d be damned if you’d let it close. Moving your arm below his to wrap around him, low on his back to avoid the incision, you used the leverage to pull yourself as close to him as you could with baby Dixon barring the way. The archer didn’t stir. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you felt the fever still burning hot, only fueling your determination to get what he needed if the group failed to return.

“I don’t care what you say or what you think. I don’t care why you think I shouldn’t.” You spoke softly, a near whisper. “I love you. And I am not losing you.”

Of course you had fallen asleep. Daryl was resting comfortably, albeit still feverish. You were cozy beside him. You felt safe while simultaneously feeling like you were guarding him. It had been more than an hour, that much was certain. Hershel hadn’t given a timeframe regarding how long the treatment would help Daryl and you were taking no chances. It was time to take things into your own hands.

As fate would have it, just as you began to disentangle yourself from Daryl, there were frantic footsteps on the stairs. Fuck. Daryl was too weak to move if walkers had wandered into the area. The door burst open without a knock, revealing a breathless blonde teenager wearing a brilliant smile.

“They’re back!”

You stared. It was all you could do, your voice had seemingly decided it was in just as much shock as you were. Besides, she had already disappeared, leaving the door wide open. A sob worked its way up your throat but you blocked it with your teeth, looking down at Daryl as he slept. 

He would be okay.

The glare you had fixed on Hershel settled the maybe you should wait outside argument rather quickly. You weren’t leaving Daryl to be manhandled should he wake up confused. 

A herd had blocked their direct path back. Of course one had. Because the world was cruel and unforgiving and the dead were always hungry and always looking for a life to take. 

Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog were bringing up supplies while Maggie assisted her father with Daryl’s care. An IV was started immediately, after carefully searching for the perfect vein due to his state of dehydration. They didn’t have the cannulas to waste. Fluids were started right along with a bag of something called Azithromycin—an antibiotic, Hershel had said. They had scored several bags of each, along with a few other things that could be used for injuries or illnesses. But when they brought up the oxygen tanks, you could have sobbed.

The nasal cannula placement was what finally woke Daryl, bloodshot eyes scanning the room before you saw the first signs of panic. “Ssh. It’s okay.” You slid your hand under his and squeezed his fingers softly. “They’re back. Just let Hershal do his thing, okay? And then I’ll chase them all out. I promise.”

You were so relieved to see his usual scowl shift into place, even if it was somewhat diminished. “Fine.” He rasped.

“Good. Now, since I have your attention—don’t touch that—” you swatted his hand away from the cannula, “take these pills.” Hershel wanted around the clock alternation of acetaminophen and ibuprofen every four hours to get the fever under control. 

With an utterance of something containing the word bossy he let you place the pills on his palm and tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them dry while you sat there offering a glass of water. There was a look shared between you that would have been amusing had either you had the energy to laugh. “Thanks.” He whispered, his hand shaking when he accepted the water. He only took a couple of sips but you wouldn’t hound him just yet. The fluids were going and he likely would take a while to feel like doing much of anything.

“We’ve done everything we can do for now. Just need to keep an eye on those bags and hang new ones when they’re empty. Keep giving the fever reducers and, son, try to drink when you feel like. The sooner you’re taking in fluids on your own, the better.” 

“Leave that oxygen right where it is too.” Maggie added in a no-nonsense tone.

Daryl’s nod was sluggish, his chin almost staying on his chest during the gesture. The commotion, everyone moving, even while he did nothing more than take a couple of pills, had left him running on fumes. As promised, you were up, hand on your lower back to rub away the ache there as you used the other to shoo everyone out of the room.

Absolutely nothing was stopping you from crawling under those sheets with him and sleeping for four glorious hours. You had asked Carol to keep an eye on that. Thank heavens he was lying in the middle of the bed. The side with the IV needed to be avoided. 

Actually lying down with the intention to sleep, knowing Daryl was receiving the help he needed, you were just done for, already drifting off and somewhere between awake and asleep when you felt Daryl’s knuckles brush against yours. You took his hand without a second thought.

“Are you sure about this?” Carol asked, standing with you in the doorway of the bedroom. She was nervously glancing back and forth between you and Daryl. Aside from a few bouts of those harsh, barking coughs, he had slept the entire four hours and barely woke enough to choke down the pills before being pulled right back under. 

“I’m sure.” You secured your knife in the sheath on your thigh and wiggled Daryl’s gun holster a little to the side so it wasn’t gouging into the bottom of your belly. Your rifle was long gone and you weren’t about to alert anyone else to your plans by choosing a different weapon. So with both your bag and Daryl’s crossbow on your back, you were ready to head out.

“You don’t have anything to prove, Y/N. We’ve lived off less. There’s a little jerky left and we have some cans—”

“I’ll be fine, Carol. I’m only going to be a few hours and hunt small game. If I happen across a doe that I can lift, I’ll take that chance, otherwise, it’ll be squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, or opossums. Yum.”

“What do I tell him if he wakes up and asks for you?” She shifted nervously.

“The truth. We don’t lie. If he tries to come after me, knock him out or barricade the door.” 

She followed you to the top of the stairs but not down, staying close to Daryl as she had promised. “You really don’t need to go.”

“I do. I’m the only other hunter in this group. I won’t have him trying to go out sooner than he’s ready to make sure there’s enough.” You paused on the bottom step, staring at the door and then toward the kitchen where everyone else was gathered. Chewing your bottom lip, you climbed up two more so she could hear you without alerting the rest. “If I’m not back before his next dose, I’m headed west. That’s where they can look.” 

Carol looked so stricken and unsure so you offered her a smile, as she always did for you. Finally, she conceded. “Okay.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

[lady-phasma]

I'm sure someone has probably already done this but it's nagging at me and I couldn't hear all the insults as they yelled at one another. (Bold are my emphasis because I am seated!) Specifically the parts about Paris and Marius. I'm not making any comments at the moment, just fact finding because this episode was brutal. Beautiful, but brutal.

Season 2 Episode 5

Louis: What? What?!

Armand: It's morning!

Louis: I lost time. Things got a little heated.

Armand: With a boy! Things got heated with a boy. I was at home picking lint off the sofa!

Louis: I said to join us!

Armand: The night's gone. The room's soiled and once again, I'm here with mop and mindlessness to clean it up.

Louis: So the room got dirty, so what? I'll clean it up.

Armand: No, I clean it up! You make the mess and I clean it up! Mark it on the calendar, align it with Ursa Major. Louis' tri-annual fսck off and find me with apologies to follow.

Louis: ( laughing ) I'm sorry.

Armand: Seek comfort in the arms of lowlifes and unfortunates, and broken children, fine.

Louis: Oh, fine! The fine that doesn't sound like…

But revealing our nature to a reporter you met in a bar ten hours ago? What if it was published?

Louis: I was having some fun!

Armand: You don't have enough to fear from Paris?

Louis: I was in the middle of ending things, when you…

Armand: You'd have been passed out on the floor next to him, Louis! Out on your feet from the drսg you stuffed him with!

Louis: Oh, this is boring! You're boring! You are so boring!

Armand: And here come the drսgs.

Louis: Colorless.

Armand: Up the fangs, down this road.

Louis: Flavorless. Dull! Dull! Dull!

Armand: Into the heart and off with the fingers, feet.

Louis: Dull nights, dull weeks!

Louis: And wallowing brain.

Louis: Dull months, dull as fսck! Suffocation by the world's softest, beige-est pillow! The ten hours I spent with that boy were more exciting, more fascinating, than decades with you! Oh, there it is! The half-blank, half-apocalyptic look! But what does it mean tonight, huh? Does he want to lick my boots or chop my hands off? Is it the gremlin or the good nurse tonight? Huh?

Armand: Okay. Okay, perhaps. But am I as boring as the blather committed onto the ferric tapes of your fascinating boy? "Oh, it's so, so hard to be me."

Louis: "Picking lint off the sofa?!"

Armand: "It's so hard to kill humans."

Armand: "I can feel their feelings as I drain them."

Louis: You sat on your hands and put your ear to the wind.

Armand: "Everyone I know wrongs me."

Louis: Okay. Okay, let's wake the boy up and let's try you. "I'm the vampire Armand and my daddy vampire groomed me into a little bitch."

Armand: "My brother, he tossed himself off a roof!"

Louis: "Vampires who murdered my daddy made me pretend I didn't have a dіck for 240 years."

Armand: "My sister, she buried me alive.” My daughter was my sister was my throw pillow. “Well, he wouldn't look at me kindly.” "Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat."

Louis: I talked shit about him the whole time. So what?!

Armand: The name!! The name! Unuttered in our home for 23 years, said over and over again until it was pounding in my brain like a hammer.

Louis: Our problems aren't about him.

Armand: And you threw her name around just for cover, but it always circled back to him.

Louis: I loved her.

Armand: But she didn't love you. Not like he did, not like I have.

Louis: ( softly ) I know. I know! Yes! I know. ( softly ) Thank you for saying it. It's all creeping back. Paris and the, uh, what, what, what? But there's… all of it coming back. There's, uh, Paris. Paris. Can you hear that? Can you hear that, hm? Can you hear her? She's calling me.

Transcript (with some corrections) from TV Show Transcripts

[just-wrting]

Feeling Fangs Part 2

Title: Feeling Fangs Part 2

Pairing: Charlotte Katakuri x Wife!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You and Katakuri explore your relationship more after you remember things from the past that you try not to think about.

Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/N: Wrote a part 2! This ended up longer than I expected due to things I wanted to put in it, but that’s fine. My fics have been getting longer and that’s good! My bf and I have officially reached Wano, so expect Law content in the future cause he’s also just a pretty boy. Anyway, here’s part 2 to a boy who took like three episodes to get into my top three one piece men. This is written for a female reader, but men, please send an ask if you want me to make it masculine!

You don't have the dream often, but when you do, you can never wake up on your own. It's like she's still staring down at you, waiting to destroy you for defying her. Sure it all worked out, but it still terrifies you as much as it did then.

The dream starts after you arrive. Your shoes clack against the polished floors, announcing your every step to all who are listening. Your jacket flutters behind you as you walk, giving off the impression of a cloak not a jacket. You've made sure that you picked out a new outfit to try to impress her, but you aren't sure she's a woman to be impressed by looks.

"An audience with Big Mom? You must be insane," the man escorting you jeers. "What makes you think you can get what you want?"

You don't reply, setting your jaw in determination. It's been something you've always been able to do. You get your way from almost everyone when you're this determined, not just your father. Not only that, you're banking on a few things to make you convincing.

The door swings open to a chorus of singing, the musical behind the door not stopping for you. It's just one of those techniques to intimidate you, and you won't fall for it. Not even as you swallow your heart back down and clench your fists to stop the fear. It's ridiculous. This whole plan is ridiculous all because you're stubborn about who you get to marry.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" she asks, leaning down to look at you. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having the next bride coming to my territory early?"

You sweep into a deep bow, not raising your eyes. Everything rests on your performance.

"I had a request. I fear that the groom you have paired me with is a bad match."

You can feel the heat of her anger. "Are you saying that I'm a bad matchmaker? All of my children are happy with their marriages, why wouldn't yours be the same?"

You straighten and hesitantly look at her. "I would never say that. What I fear may have happened, is you believe my role in my father's business. I may be his daughter, but I have yet to be labeled the heir."

"So you are useless?"

You gulp. "If that's how you choose to view it. I am merely being honest with you about my father. I'm begging you for your help, Big Mom. With your help, I can be named the heir. As soon as that happens, you are free to do with my father as you wish and I will turn it over to you."

She leans back and rubs her chin. "What does this have to do with the marriage?"

You keep your hands folded behind your back. "I need to marry someone who can protect me against anyone and who would never respect my father. I'm unsure how he does it, but he has been able to get very powerful people to do things he wants."

Thunder booms through the room as she growls at you. "Are you saying my children are weak?"

You bite your lip. How is she taking everything you say the wrong way?

"I have heard about some of your children more than others." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your ever growing nerves. "Perhaps it's a bit difficult to understand my perspective. You are the strongest woman on the seas. You're able to get yourself out of any fight you get in. You are unstoppable. I am nobody. I have no abilities and no fighting knowledge. Everyday I have to fear for my life. It would be better for you if I had a strong husband to rely on instead of running to you when I'm in danger."

You hold your back as straight as you can, pushing down all your fear. You have no idea if she's listening to you or if you're signing your own death warrant with every word you say.

She calms down. "So what you're saying is that you're afraid of getting hurt so you'd like one of my strongest children to marry you in exchange for handing over your father's empire?"

"In the simplest of terms, yes that is my request. You are a gracious woman for even listening to my request."

Her laughter echos through the room. "Very well. I hope you're okay with finding out which of my sons you'll marry at the wedding."

You dip into another bow. "Of course, whatever you wish I shall be okay with now that my fears have been put to rest."

She waves you off. "Begone now, I seem to have another person to speak to."

You walk out of the room as calmly as you can. Internally, you're both relieved and panicked. Now you have made your future even more twisted and unclear. The mere thought of going home or coming back here makes you sick.

As soon as you can, you duck into the shadows and start to retch. There's nothing to vomit, you skipped breakfast, but spit trails down your lips to the floor. All of your nerves are finally getting to you and you can't hold it back anymore.

There's a faint clinking sound as someone walks towards you, but you don't turn around. Not only is it a bit mortifying to be seen like this, you just don't have the energy. Who ever it is pauses a short distance away, never saying anything. You know it's to look at you. You left the door open behind you.

Normally the dream continues with you finding food, but still throwing it up as the Big Mom pirates sneer at you. This time, you jolt awake to see Katakuri looking at you with worry.

Your breathing is heavy as you fumble around, trying to get away. There's a million thoughts racing in your mind, but the most prominent one being that you have to leave. You don't even stop trying to get out of the bed as he picks you up and sets you in his lap.

"It's just me," he whispers as he pulls your head to his chest. "You're awake, and you're safe."

You do your best to focus on the sound of his breathing, trying to match it. It's a bit tricky since he's got larger lungs, but the deeper breaths help you slowly calm down. You ignore the rest of your body as you, pretending that you aren't still trembling.

You can't remember the last time you woke up like this. Maybe it was when you first got married and you were terrified of being surrounded by strangers. Maybe it was when they killed your dad and you kept getting those letters saying that people would get their revenge. Maybe it was just a few weeks ago when you woke up in a cold sweat wondering if you would ever see Katakuri again.

By the time you've calmed down, you forget why it scares you so much. It's just a dream of a time that you could've died but didn't. It's just a dream. It will only ever stay a dream.

"What happened?" His voice is soft as he kisses the top of your head. "Tell me."

You draw in a shaky breath. "It's just a dream I have sometimes. Just remembering why we got married in the first place. Did anyone ever tell you why?"

Katakuri gently rubs his thumb against your skin. It's nice to just have him hold you like this for a little bit. Even if you woke him and you feel like a bother.

"Mother just said that you were someone she needed to keep in check and I was the best fit for that. That's all I know."

"I marched in here and asked that she gave me a different son to marry. Part of it was I thought your brother was..." you search for the right word. "Not my type. Part of it was that I was scared to get killed by your family so I wanted one of her strongest sons so that way I was safer."

"Does that mean I'm your type?"

You can feel his face start to heat up as he leans against you. It's not something you ever really thought about, so you rack your brain for the answer.

"I'd say so. I didn't pick you out, your mom did, but that doesn't mean you aren't my type." Your face starts to heat up. "You are the prettiest one and I would be lying if I said that I hadn't thought of marrying you when I first heard about it."

He stops moving. "Why me?"

"Because you're my type. I keep learning new things about you that just tick more of my boxes so it worked out alright."

You tilt your head back and give him a soft kiss. For a moment he stays still, but he's quick to grab your chin and keep you there. It's only been a few weeks, but you've gotten plenty used to just how affectionate he is when you're alone.

"Like what?" His eyes look into yours, unblinking and persistent. "What do you like about me?"

"Are you really going to make me list off everything I like about you?"

Even in the dark his eyes shine, and you find yourself mesmerized. He looks so pretty and you reach up to play with his hair.

"Just a few things."

You pretend to think really hard about it. "Well, let me think. I like that you're honorable."

Pressing a kiss to his jaw, you continue to list things. "You care deeply about people."

A kiss to his cheek. "You're incredibly sweet."

A kiss to his nose. "And you have to be the prettiest man I've ever seen."

With a smile, you press your lips to his. You mean every word you said, and you hope he knows that. It's official. You've definitely fallen for him, but you'll keep that to yourself for now.

Katakuri grips your waist and pulls you closer. He's soft and warm, and it's just so comforting to be held. It hadn't taken you long to get used to this, and now you find yourself enjoying it.

Before you can react, he pulls away and presses a kiss to your temple. "It's still early in the morning, get more sleep."

Scowling, you decide to sass back. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

He gives you another kiss. "Your husband."

"Uh-huh. And how long have you been my husband?"

"Three years, seven months, and," you hear the sound of him picking up the clock and setting it down. "Twelve days."

"I'm surprised you remember that. I forgot all about it last year." You put your head back against his chest. "Though you're never around for it."

He starts to rub your back again. "In case it was important. What made you remember?"

"Someone left me a gift to celebrate it. I don't know who, though they've left me a gift every year."

You close your eyes, content to just relax. Katakuri is always warm and soft. There's very little that's more relaxing than just laying on him and going to sleep.

"What did you do with them? Did you throw them out?" He sounds worried.

You give a halfhearted shake of your head. "Nope, they're in the top drawer of my dresser. The only thing I've considered throwing out is some stuff that an old friend sent me. Why? Did you send them?"

There's a rumble in his chest before he wraps his arm around you and rolls over. "Don't ask questions, just sleep."

"Have you been trying to woo me this whole time, Katakuri?"

He holds you tighter. "If I promise to tell you who left those tomorrow, will you go to sleep?"

You laugh. "Sure, but only if you promise."

"Alright, I promise. Now go to sleep."

It's not a hard thing to do. You're warm and comfortable right where you are, and you feel sleep tugging you back. The thing that gets you the most is the feeling of being safe. Right now, as you are, you feel absolutely safe for what must be the first time in a long time.

—-

You throw the clothes on the bed and groan. Nothing you've managed to pull out has worked or fit, and you're starting to go insane. How did it not cross his mind to tell you that you needed to go with him to some stupid meeting? Now you're stuck rifling through your closet looking for something that Big Mom won't kill you for wearing.

"Why didn't you tell me last night?" you whine as you pull out another shirt. "None of this is going to work."

Katakuri watches you from the bed, wearing the same thing he always wears. He has it easy with a wardrobe filled with replicas of his biker outfit. Sure he looks great in it, but would it kill him to wear something else and suffer with the ability to choose? Maybe something that could actually cover that massive chest of his.

"Should I pick for you?"

You wave at him dismissively. "No. I need to prove that I know what to wear to something like this. Otherwise if she wants to see me when you aren't around, I'll be in trouble."

You can feel his eyes on you, but you ignore it. It's not until you slip on another dress, that you realize he's been in the room the whole time. It never bothered you before. In fact, the first time you changed in front of him you told him that it didn't matter if he saw you change because you're married.

Now that's changed. Sure, you're still married, you've just started to be more romantic and physical with each other. After three years, you've started to actually act like a couple. It's only been about a month, and the realization has just started to set in.

Even though you've done this a hundred times, you suddenly feel exposed and embarrassed. Has he always looked at you like this and you just never noticed? Maybe you should just go change in the bathroom instead.

"This also doesn't fit, I can't get the zipper up. I think I'll do this in the bathroom instead."

The bed squeaks as he swings his legs off. "I can help."

You feel your body heat up. "That's not necessary. How much time do I have left? Maybe I can go buy something."

"You look fine in everything you wear," he adds. "I don't believe it matters what you wear."

"I just," you pause to slip the dress off. "I just want to be perfect. Everyone views you as perfect so I need to match that."

You rub the silk between your fingers before chucking it to the floor. It doesn't matter what you wear. You'll never be more to them than Katakuri's little wife. Someone who's a thorn in their side and took him away.

"You're already perfect," he mumbles. "Just wear what you like."

You don't respond. Not only can you not hear him, you aren't sure if anything he could say would make you feel better. Maybe that's for the best. Dealing with his family isn't something he can really help with. It a challenge you need to deal with on your own.

You continue to absentmindedly pull clothes out and toss them around. All you're actually doing is making a mess. It'll all have to be sorted, hung, and put away once more, and you probably won't have the energy.

Eventually you pull out something you forgot you owned. The fabric is soft and soothing to the touch. You think back to when you bought it, shortly after you got married. Clearly you were thinking about Katakuri, the color matches his eyes.

You pull it out and hold it up to your chest. "What do you think of this?"

He nods. "It suits you."

You hum in thought. That's not much a reaction. To be fair, he hasn't given you much of a reaction this whole time. Part of you wants him to give you more than that, you wish you could see if he was flustered. Unfortunately, he's all ready, complete with his scarf tucked under his nose.

"That's it?" You raise an eyebrow. "I think I was thinking about you when I bought it since I'm pretty sure your eyes are this color."

You make your way over to the bed and hold it up to his head. Leaning in close, you stare into his eyes, looking back and forth between him and the clothes. The color is practically a perfect match. You don't know how you managed to pull that off, but you feel proud of that.

"It's the same color." You brush his hair away from his eyes. "Such a pretty color."

Katakuri reaches up and grabs your hip. It hurts a bit, but you don't mind. You know he can't tell how much force he can apply to your skin so it's never intentional. Normally you just remind him that you're not a sixteen foot tall piece of muscle and he needs to be more gentle. This time, you don't have the chance.

He takes the hanger from you and tosses it on the nightstand. You frown before he pulls you into his lap. Having no idea what game he's play, you push his chest and huff.

"What are you trying to do?"

You're flustered at the position, straddling his thigh in your underwear. It's impossible to tell how he feels right now due to his face being in shadow, but you hope he's more confident than you are.

"Is there something wrong?"

You grip the soft leather covering his chest and cover your mouth. Squirming to get out of his grasp isn't helping. In fact, it's making things worse. The way he's holding you makes it impossible to escape.

Closing your eyes, you try to get control of your thoughts. Every time you move, you end up grinding against him. You feel dirty for wanting to keep going. A large part of you wants him, even if it's in this way.

"N-no. I'm fine."

You stifle a moan as he pulls you closer. It's like he's encouraging you to give in, but you can't bring yourself to do that just yet. Not when you don't know if you can, and especially when you don't know if you'd be able to stop.

There's the sound of him using his devil fruit, and soon he's lifting your chin up. You open your eyes just enough to look into his. He's not looking into your eyes, tracing your body with his gaze instead. When he finally does meet your gaze, his pupils are wide and his eyes are dark. You've never seen him like that, but for some reason it gives you the answer you need.

Even though you're covering your mouth, you bite your lip to keep yourself from making noise. You can't bring yourself to break eye contact as you start grinding against him. His brow furrows slightly before he closes his eyes. You feel his chest rise and fall in deep breaths under your hand as he seems to struggle with something.

Katakuri keeps you steady, his fingers digging into your skin. Your eyes flutter shut, and you drop your head into his chest. At this point, the movement of your hips is like second nature. The dragging of your cunt against his thigh brings you  pleasure you haven't felt in months.

Focusing on your own pleasure, you start to move faster. You slide your knees to the side just a bit more to get even closer. Whining at extra friction, you feel your whole body flush. Each rock of your hips sends jolts of pleasure to your core.

You spread your fingers, panting to get more air. It's starting to make your thighs and hips ache, but you can't stop. You don't want to stop. You're chasing the high of an orgasm.

After a few minutes of rolling your hips down into him, you start to lose your pace. The tension in your core is building to its peak and you can't focus on anything but reaching it. You're desperate and clinging to him like it'll help.

As if sensing your desperation, Katakuri guides your hips back and forth. You struggle to muffle the sounds you make as you feel the tension snap. Your legs shake as your orgasm courses through you, and you grip his jacket as tight as you can.

Your hips don't stop moving until you're over sensitive and whining. It takes a moment for you to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you go limp. You barely register Katakuri lifting you off his thigh and laying you on the bed. His touch is light and gives you goosebumps.

There's the soft feeling of a damp towel on your face and thighs as he wipes you down as best as he can. You give a peek to look at him, finding him still in intense concentration.

"I'll let you rest for a moment. We won't be late."

You nod and close your eyes. Not only did you have a nightmare last night, but you got your exercise in already this morning. It's surprisingly exhausting, and you feel like taking a nap. You could probably get away with it too, since Katakuri dotes on you.

You curl into a ball on his side of the bed, making yourself comfortable. It's still warm from where he was, and you absentmindedly reach for the blanket. Of course, you can't reach it. Deciding that it doesn't matter, you give up.

After what feels like seconds, he's gently shaking you awake again. You stretch and groan before rolling over. Risking your life for a few more minutes is stupid, but what else are you going to do? Get up and go to the meeting?

"Get dressed. I can carry you, but you have to wear something."

You pout. "I don't even want to go. Why do I have to go?"

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "I don't know, but it isn't wise to keep Mother waiting."

—-

You look at your lap. Most of the topics are about fixing up the remains of the chateau, something you couldn't care less about. As long as you and your husband have a room big enough for him, you'll be fine.

"Now, time for the reason I called some of you here," Big Mom announces, banging a spoon on her teacup. "I hope that at least some of you can fulfill my request."

What little noises that were being made stopped almost as soon as she started speaking. You glance at Katakuri who doesn't seem fazed. Deciding to calm down, you take your tea in your hand and take a sip.

"This attack against me has made me realize that I'm not quite as young as I once was. Therefore," she gestures around the table, "as all my married children, it is your job to continue growing our family. The first to bring me a grandchild will be rewarded."

You choke on your tea, coughing into the cup. Did she really just request that you start having kids? You're well aware of how old all of her married kids are, but she can't be serious. She already has a grandchild, not that she'll ever call the kid that.

"Is something wrong with my request?”

You shake your head aggressively. "Absolutely not. I thought for just a moment there was a bug in my tea, but it appears I'm just suffering from a lack of sleep. I'm sorry for the disruption."

You don't even pay attention the rest of her talk. Who knows what she's going on about with her age, some of her kids aren't even double digits? Maybe this is just some plan to get you killed in the dumbest way possible. How are you supposed to have kids with Katakuri of all guys? He's sixteen feet tall.

That's not to say you haven't thought about having kids with him. Even if it's been in a more 'how would this work' way and less of a 'I really want kids' way. You’ve only started to be comfortable with him in the romantic sense in the past month or two so you haven’t had the chance to even discuss such a topic. Though you don’t think you’d mind trying.

You shake your head slightly, attempting to get rid of the thoughts. This sort of situation is not the time to be thinking like that. Even if he keeps looking over at you to make sure you’re okay.

Thankfully the meeting ends after a few more minutes, and you head outside. The stress of being around so many of the Big Mom pirates is giving you jitters and you want to just curl up into a ball and scream. Normally they leave you alone, even if giving you dirty looks, but this time you were forced to partake in a dumb meeting about having kids.

Just as she had asked, Katakuri stays behind for a few more minutes. You watch the door anxiously, biting your nails as you wait. It’s a bad habit, but you can’t break it due to moments like these. Moments where you aren’t sure what’s going to happen to you or your husband. Moments where your whole life could be upturned. Thankfully, he comes out looking fine, if mildly annoyed.

He picks you up and sets you on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“What did she want to talk to you about?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he just keeps walking down the stairs, making sure to not jostle you too much. Whatever it was must’ve been somewhat bad if he’s not willing to talk about it yet. Maybe he just doesn’t want to bother you with whatever it was.

You take in the construction as you walk, surprised by just how fast the work has been. The whole chateau is almost complete, only missing finishing details and furniture. It’s pretty impressive, and you wonder how everyone managed to get it done. Katakuri and you even have your original room back already, though you aren’t sure where they managed to find all of your belongings. Not that it matters, you have other things to worry about.

Once he sets you down and locks the door, Katakuri sighs. He looks slightly aggravated, and you aren’t entirely sure why. It’s clearly related to whatever his mom wants him to do, but whatever it is can’t be that bad. Not that you have any idea of what she normally asks of him.

“There’s something I need to go do,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

“It’s okay. I was really worried she had scolded and threatened you, so I’m glad you’re just leaving for a little bit.”

You press your hand to your chest in relief. There are far worse things that could’ve been said than having him go do something. At least he’s still safe and still yours.

“I’ll do my best to be quick.” He bends down to look in your eyes. “I promise.”

“I don’t care how long you take, as long as you come back safe.” You press a kiss to his lips. “Promise me you’ll come back safe and sound.”

Katakuri returns your kiss. “I promise to come back to you.”

With that, he leaves. Even though he just left, you find yourself missing him. You push down the idea of running after him and begging him to stay or take you with him. There’s no need to bother him. He’s already promised to come back and that’s more than you could ask for.

[nobody7102]

Not What He's Made For

Spoilers for Season 6, Episode 11

Pairing: Evan "Buck" Buckley x Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of pregnancy and lost pregnancy

A/N: First fic in a while, it had to be for my baby Buck. This was inspired by Billie

Main Master-List

________

Standing at the window watching as everyone gathers in his room. Buck swallows hard, seeing himself laying in the hospital bed hooked up to the ventilator, his jaw clenches with anger, an anger that no matter how hard he tries, he can't wake himself up.

Its as if the universe is playing some sick joke on him. He already talked to Daniel and the alternate version of Bobby, what more does the universe want him to learn?

Banging against the glass window “I’M HERE!” He yells over and over as the crew of the 118 slowly file out of the room. Leaving just three.

Maddie, Bobby, and Y/N,

He watches as they sit and make small talk, sometimes discussing things that the doctors and nurses have told them about Buck’s current status. After about an hour a nurse stops in to have Maddie look over some paperwork as his closest next of kin, being that their parents are still hours away from arriving at the hospital. Leaving just Bobby and Y/N.

If there ever where someone who hid their troubles well, it was Y/N.

Always seeming fine and calm in tense or hard situations as her fears screamed inside of her.

When Y/N joined the LAFD most of her previous houses would say thats what made Y/N such a good firefighter, but if you asked Y/N she would always say it was her fear that runs her life. 

And when Y/N joined the 118, Bobby was the only captain who could read through her facade. 

After a call where Y/N had to crawl through a collapsed building a year after she joined the 118, Bobby found her having an anxiety attack in her hospital room after the 118 had visited her after she was found in the rubble. Other time Bobby had learned to tell when Y/N was too in her head about anything.

And when Buck and Y/N had started to turn their situationship into an actual relationship Bobby helped Y/N learn how to navigate her fears when it came to seeing a fellow first responder, and he taught Buck how to help Y/N navigate her anxieties.

And slowly over time, Buck and Y/N became each other’s persons. They had been though so much together, from being almost drowned by a tusnami, being shot at, crawling out of a sinkhole, to fighting wild fires down in Texas, and now this.

A lightning strike. Something so beautiful yet as much as Y/N would normally have admired their beauty, right now she loathed the beauty of plasma.

The one shift she took off and now Buck’s life hangs in the balance.

Placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, Y/N turns her head away from Bobby to quickly wipe away her tears. “Comon Y/N… what’s going though your head?” Bobby prys gently.

Letting out a sigh Y/N shakes her head, finally turning to face Bobby. “Did Buck tell you we had a fight-” she correcters herself “or rather that we’ve been fighting…” 

Bobby shrugs slightly “He mention you two were bickering but he didn’t say over what” he takes a seat next to Y/N.

“...The fights… the bickering, whatever you wanna call it… its part of the reason why I asked for this shift off…” 

Bobby nodded his head as he listened “I get it, come back with a clear approach to everything after giving each other some space… what have you been fighting about if you don’t mind me asking”

“...Buck….. Buck thinks I don’t wanna be with him anyone…. That I’m getting tired of him, and I kept trying to tell him… show him that it isn’t the case” Y/N glances over to Buck.

“Okay… then what’s the other reason you asked for this shift off?” Bobby raised his brow. 

Blowing out a breath, Y/N shakes her head.

“If you let it sit, it’s gonna fester into something more. We both know that” Bobby sits back in the chair and crosses his arms, waiting for Y/N to talk.

She knows he’s right, if she avoids talking its just gonna sit in the back of her mind and eventually come back to bite her in the ass later. 

“...If I tell you this… no one else can know, you have to swear to me Bobby. No one… not Athena or Maddie or Eddie or Buck, no one.” She turns to Bobby.

“Y/N, if its serius enough you know Buck-”

“Bobby.” Y/N pleads “He can’t know” 

Bobby lets out a sigh, stuck between a rock and a hard place, he eventually nods his head “It stays between us, I promise” 

Slowly nodding her head, Y/N takes a deep breath and looks back at Buck one last time before she turns back to Bobby.

“... Buck and I have been fighting because he thinks I’m pulling away from him… this has been going on for the past week and a half” Y/N glances down to the floor as she continues “and I mean maybe I was a little bit like three days ago but it’s not for the reason’s Buck thinks” 

Starting to pick at the loose threads of her hoodie, Y/N shakes her head and blows out a breath before glancing to the doorway of Buck’s hospital room, making sure no one other than Bobby is around to hear her before she speaks.

“... a little over two weeks ago… I found out I was pregnant” Y/N sees the shock on Bobby’s face and cuts him off before he has the chance to speak “I was gonna tell you, I swear… but anytime we were on shift it was slow, we didnt end up doing anything super dangerous… and I wanted to tell Buck before I told anyone else”

Bobby’s gaze softens as he sees Y/N close her eyes and lean back in the chair as she takes a breath before continues. “If…. If I was pulling away, it’s because I was trying to figure out how to tell Buck” He sees how Y/N keeps her eyes to the floor as she talks, a tear starts to roll down her cheek before she brings her hand up to wipe it away. “Becuase its Buck. We all know he’d make a great dad, and a great dad deserves to be told in a great way… because Buck is worth taking extra steps to plan for so I ordered this little onesie and all these balloons and a cake to surprise him… and I know he would have loved it” Bobby can hear the passion in her voice before Y/N goes quiet for a moment to compose herself before she clears her thought.

“But then… four days ago I went to the ER because I was having some cramps and light spotting… I asked my doctor about and she said it was normal” Y/N shakes her head “But I could tell… something wasn’t-” Y/N stops herself, taking a moment before she swallows hard. “And… that’s when I learned that I lost the pregnancy…” She shrugs as she tries to maintain was little composer she has left.

“They don’t know what happened… in the ER they told me that things like this just happen sometimes…” Y/N’s voice tightnes she brings her hand up to cover her face for a moment as she tries to take a few deep breaths.

“So… for the last few days… yeah I was pulling away because I had all this stuff planned and I had to figure out what to do with it now because-” her voice breaks “It was all for nothing” her shoulders shake as Bobby wraps his arms around Y/N, letting her cry on his shoulder as he glances between her and Buck with pity and sadness in his eyes. 

“Y/N” He starts once she’s a bit more calmed down “This isn’t something you can hide from Buck”

Y/N just continues to shake her head “I can’t Bobby, I’ve tried-” 

“Y/N” 

“No I mean it” Y/N cuts him off her voice wavers a little bit “I have tried to tell him at every opportunity but i can’t… everytime i try i choke everytime.”

Pulling away from Bobby, Y/N sniffles and wipes her eyes before she glances to Buck “...I think it’d just make it worse, make it hurt more if I told him…” Y/N mumbles “he’s not made for sadness Bobby… Buck thrives on the happiness and joy… love and happiness and passion run his life… something like this?” she just stares at Buck laying in the hospital bed and the tears start to roll down her cheeks once more “it’s not was he’s made for…”

Staring at Y/N and Bobby, Buck bangs his fist against the glass one last time before he stops banging, his hand growing sore as he rests his head against the glass, his tears matching Y/N’s as all he can do it watch…

Hoping that this isn’t his forever.

--------

Tagging: @beachbabey @t-nd-rfoot

[xo-cod]

O.M.G! I love COD and Garcia from Criminal Minds (she’s my fashion inspo!) so you combine both, I’m on cloud nine!

Remember that episode/s where she got shot by an ‘Angel of Death’ unsub because he thought he was catching on to his crimes and tried/tries to kill her after taking her out on a date?

Well, imagine that happens to Penelope! Reader.

they'd take it so hard :( this can be read platonically/romantically i don't really know anymore LMAO 🤍

posted it again because i didn't like the way the first one looked <3 ooc/rushed!

part two

》》》 after the shooting 《《《

ghost was silent as his knee bounced while he waited for you to wake up, the room silent other than the beeping letting them know you were alive. and the occasional humming from soap who softly toyed with your hair, his fingers gently caressing against your cheek very tenderly. it had been like this for hours until heavy footsteps echoed through the corridors, letting them know the rest of the team were back

"got the bastard back at base" price spoke as he came back into the room with gaz. simon and johnny weren't to be trusted not to kill the man since they needed him alive so they both remained like glue, stuck to your bedside. even when one of the nurses tried to suggest to leave for a few hours to freshen up, ghost shot her a hard stare which made her back off in the same breath.

"she awake yet?" gaz was next, his voice gentle while ghost shook his head. his jaw clenched as his hands gripped the arm rest on the chair. seeing your state, seeing how vulnerable you were, seeing you dance upon the line of life and death and he couldn't do a thing.

"told her not to go on that bloody date. look at 'er now" simon's voice was harsh, angry at himself for not being able to protect you. hell, they weren't even the first on scene. your neighbours had heard the shot and worriedly called the ambulance.

"s'not her fault lt, she didn't know" soap spoke coming to your defence, his hand still cradling your palm in-between his big warm ones.

"christ's sake johnny, she got shot at!" ghost snapped, his brown eyes narrowing at the scot who sighed as he looked back down at you.

you were both the heart and brains of the 141, your intelligent analytical skills saving them more times than they could count but you were always so humble about it. you hadn't looked so frail before, gone were your pretty clothes and your little jewellery pieces. all you had on was a sickly hospital gown, catheters placed in different parts of your body accompanied with a breathing mask over your mouth

"how's the wound?" price interjected, removing his bucket hat as he came closer to the bed. his heart went out to the youngest of the team, it was never easy to see the sight of his soldiers injured and beaten down. it was especially never easy to see his soldiers laying cold on a bed, knowing their attacker was out and about

"she flatlined, messy wound. but one centimeter over and it would've torn right through her heart" soap spoke looking at price who nodded slowly as he came to the side of the hospital bed.

"a fighter" his voice was gentle, his thumb sweeping the apples of your cheeks ever so softly. silent for a moment as he glanced down at you, missing all the little eccentric pieces that made you you. but, you weren't dead. you'd be fine, he knew that. it didn't take the sting of not being able to prevent it any easier but you were a soldier, a capable one at that. you were fine, you were going to be okay

for now, they were to tend to pressing matters that lay for them back in base. and notably, none of them were going to be gentle about it. time was ticking, the quicker they dealt with the matter at hand the faster they'd be back to you again.

"take it easy, pretty. we'll be back soon" price bent down and whispered, his fingers fondly running through your hair before he straightened up with a swift nod and headed out the door to the car

"you're gonna be just fine, mama. i promise you" gaz whispered as he kissed your temple tenderly before leaning back, his eyes hardening as he remembered who put you in this position. the fear and pain you felt and they hadn't been anywhere close to you.

even if you were capable, even if you were one of the most intelligent soldiers on their team, you were the youngest. and each of them had taken you under this wing. someone had messed with you and subsequently, messed with them all collectively. he took a soft breath in, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your palm careful not to knock over the drips before he followed suit like price.

"when i come back, those pretty eyes of yours better be awake bonnie" johnny chuckled sadly, his thumb drifting over the bandage wrapped around your chest as he sighed softly looking back to your sleeping face again. he kissed your cheek hesitantly, too nervous to knock over the breathing mask.

he hated seeing you like this. you had grown to be one of his closest friends here and the fact that he couldn't protect you as well as he thought took a hit on him. soap had always taken things a little harder when it came to you, he couldn't wait to tear the bastard that had messed with you. he stiffened back up and followed the rest of his team out, one last lingering look before he left.

and then ghost eyed you, his brown eyes narrowing a little at your body. you were still, too still for his liking. and though he knew you were alive, he couldn't help but the rise of slight panic at the thought of you dead. it was irrational, he knew, but it happened to him before. being forced into a position he thought could never happen to him and then it did, his worst nightmare a living reality. but he'd be damned if he couldn't do everything in his power to protect you from the same fate.

"i'll be back, lovie. i'll make the sorry bastard pay for what he's done to you," his tone was cold, hard, determined.

"you'll be okay" a soft murmur, the reminder mostly for himself and to calm those nerves. he pulled his balaclava up a little to reveal his scarred lips as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. his fingers gently rubbing your skin, head leaning against your temple very slightly but still enough to feel you. to feel you alive and breathing, knowing that you were here and that you were going to be okay. a minute passed before he straightened himself up and looked at you with a nod.

leaving your hospital room with a new goal in his mind, to make the man pay for everything he ever did.

[delayed-affection]

if u feel comfortable writing about it could you maybe write and imagine about joe burrow and him being their for his girlfriend whiles she’s struggling with a depressive episode thank u in advance 🤍

Help

Oneshots Navigation

Joe Burrow x reader

Warnings: depression

Word count: 1.1k

It comes in waves, one day you’re fine and happy but the next you want nothing more than to just be gone.

You’ve done everything that they’ve said to do; you’ve gone to therapy, taken the pills they’ve prescribed you, tried to get back into the things you’ve loved before but nothing has worked.

You’ve managed to live life without breaking down in front of everyone, in front of Joe.

He knows about your struggles with your mental health but there’s only so much that he can do for something he can’t control and knows so little about.

He’s seen the days where you struggle to get up and do the simple things in life and it kills him to see you like that. He just doesn’t know what to do when it gets like that.

And today was one of those days, you managed to pull yourself out of bed and to work but it was the hardest thing to do.

All you wanted to do was go home and rot away, hoping that tomorrow will be better, that you won’t have to bully and force yourself out of bed.

But it wasn’t, it was worse.

You woke up today feeling like absolute shit. A wave of fatigue and exhaustion hit upon waking, washing over you like a cold and heavy blanket as your eyes open.

The mere thought of getting out of bed is almost too much to bare right now, every muscle in your body feeling like a lead weight.

There's no motivation here, just a deep-rooted desire to fall back asleep and go back to the peace and comfort of dreams.

You wrap yourself up in the blanket lying in bed, the room is pitch black with the only light coming from your phone that lights up every once in a while with a notification.

You haven’t gotten up since you opened your eyes, however they weren’t open for long. You force yourself back to sleep, wanting nothing more than to be in an unconscious state.

You wake up a couple hours later and feel way worse.

You felt completely lethargic and mentally wiped, and you couldn't think of anything that could stir them out of this state.

Feeling like a zombie, just going through the motions and barely functioning at a most basic level. You felt like you were just existing, not truly living. Everything seemed pointless, and you couldn't find the energy or desire to do anything at all.

You begrudgingly sit up, trying to fight off the feeling that's been weighing you down. You don't have the energy to do much else but try to cope with your feelings.

You sit there on your bed, feeling overwhelmed by the sense of hopelessness that has consumed you. It feels like nothing will change and you’re just waiting around for things to magically get better.

You find yourself spiraling deeper and deeper into a dark hole of despair and there seems to be no way out.

You lie back down with a huff, feeling completely defeated. Wishing it would just go away and you could finally be happy.

But it doesn't look like that's going to happen any time soon. Closing your eyes and you try to block out the world, hoping that maybe things will be different.

You know deep down that nothing will change. You are stuck in this state and have no idea how to escape it. You just feel hopeless and resigned to your fate.

You can hear the front door open and close, Joe is home. Laying there silently, you listen to the sound of his footsteps coming closer to the room.

You feel anxious and nervous, unsure of how you should act when he walks in. Should you just keep pretending like you’re asleep, but you also know that you need to face him.

You’re afraid that he'll be angry or disappointed with your lack of motivation to do anything.

The bedroom door opens, and Joe walks in cautiously. He can tell by your breath and movement that you’re awake, but he decides to act as if he doesn't know that and gently sits down next to you on the bed.

He doesn't say anything at first, just gives you a comforting pat on the shoulder letting you know that he's here. He knows that it can be difficult to communicate when you’re in this state, but he wants to let you know that he cares and supports you.

You feel your heart melt a bit at his gesture and you can't help but lean into him slightly, seeking comfort from his closeness. Feeling slightly embarrassed and guilty for not having the energy to do much lately.

You can’t help but feel like you’re letting him down by not being more productive or active. You’re glad he's understanding and patient, but you feel like you’re being a burden on him and that you should try harder.

Hearing you start to cry, he immediately holds you close. He lets you cry without trying to stop the tears or make you feel bad about them. He just holds you gently, letting you let it all out and offering a strong and secure presence.

He reassures you that it's okay to cry, and he just wants you to feel better. He's there for you and he's not going anywhere, no matter how bad things get.

He wants you to know that you’re not alone, and he's there to support and love you no matter what.

He continues to hold you until the crying subsides, feeling you calming down as he does so. Once your tears have stopped, he pulls you close again and strokes your hair lovingly.

He wants to make you feel better, and he knows that sometimes you just need physical reassurance and comfort to feel more at ease. He just wants to be there for you and make you feel like everything will be okay.

You begin to relax in his arms and feel a bit better.

"Everything's going to be okay, baby, I'm here for you." He whispers placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You sigh as you lean into him, letting your mind go blank.

He continues to whisper to you, "I love you and I'll always be by your side, no matter what."

He keeps whispering these words of encouragement and love, and you can feel your spirits starting to lift.

It feels good to have his comforting presence so close to you, and you feel supported and reassured by his kindness. He continues to hold you close as you breathes out a deep breath and relax.

You feel safe and supported by his love, and your stress and anxiety slowly begins to fade away.

You start to feel better, way better than you did before, and you’re grateful that you has someone so understanding and supportive like him.

[thir10th]

some extra help- Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

summary: this is a drabble kinda based on episode 3x02 but it's not a whole insert TW: suggestive content but no smut, dress up, fluff (very cute if you ask me), it's not smut so not much to say here, very short talk about medical stuff (head injury, concussion), i think that's all A/N: this one is quite short but very cute. It's not smut, just suggestive, i ended it right there because I wasn't really on the mood for it. As always: any feedback is appreciated. english isn't my first language. like and reblog <3

you had spent the last 2 nights in a row waking up every 3 to 4 hours, several alarms a night. After saving not only that poor little boy and woman's lives, but also saving you boss' and girlfriend's jobs, you returned home to a renewed Emily Prentiss. She was relieved that she could finally rest, not having to chose between her job and her team, which included you. You had insisted on her not resigning but she would give anything for you and the people she loved, for her team.

After the number she pulled in Milwaukee (you had also begged her to be careful, and you would've shoot that man when you saw what he had done to her hadn't JJ been there to stop you) she had a concussion. it was basically your job to make sure she was still breathing.

You secretly loved taking care of Emily, you kind of hated having to wake up every once in a while, obviously, but there was something about taking helping her with regular stuff, making sure she was taking things easy, all that intimacy.

"baby, stop it" she complains "I'm fine, I can carry my own bag" you had taken it upon yourself to carry it to her apartment "i know you can, but i don't want you to, you have to rest" you try to convince her

"I'm fine, the meds help a lot, it barely hurts now" She says trying to make you forget all that worry "since Milwaukee you've treated me like I'm so fragile, but I won't break just like that"

You drop her bag and her purse, and turn around to face her, grabbing her waist, pulling her close to you, she surrounds your neck with her hands "What's wrong with it? So, i want to take care of my girlfriend, no big deal, she can still be a badass, specially at work, as far as they're concerned, there's no worried girlfriend, just a worried friend, who drives you to work so you don't have to do it yourself" she caresses your back with her fingers, listening to every word you say.

Your relationship was still a secret for the rest of the team, you had been dating already for several months, but you were taking it slow, so no one in the team actually knew you were the one spending the nights at Emily's apartment taking care of her until she got better.

"well, i love my worried girlfriend but she should take a break and get me a nurse so she can start relaxing with me" she says, giving you a peck on your lips and separating from your embrace to go to the bathroom

little did Emily know she had just given you an idea

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

next day you enter Emily's apartment, ready for a nigh full of interruptions, but very ready to have some fun as well.

Emily had given you an idea, a very good one, the kind of idea you knew your girlfriend would love. So you move around the apartment, being as quiet as you can, Emily is resting on the couch reading a book, and you're in the room trying to get yourself ready.

"I can hear you moving, what are you up to back there?" she asks putting her book down, giving up on concentrating enough to read.

"you know, I think it's time to change that bandage on your forehead don't you think? It's been a couple of days" you say from the back of the room

"oh, yeah, i forgot, if you get me the first aid kit i can do it myself"

"no, i can do it for you, because, if i remember correctly, you said yesterday you could use a nurse, right?" with that you enter the living room, all dressed in the lamest, cheapest nurse costume you could have found, the only thing that mattered anyways was that it was short, white, and revealing.

Emily sits up, sitting upright on the couch, her mouth falls open, speechless, her eyes scanning you, running up and down your figure as if trying to memorize every bit of the image.

"So? what do you think?" you tell her, pinning around to give her a look from every angle

her lips start curving into a smile, her mouth still open, she chuckles in surprise, runs her hand through her hair looking for the words

"I can't believe this, you look awesome baby, come here" she says still in awe, opens her arms in a welcoming position. You walk to her, place your legs on her sides so you're straddling her, she caresses the skin of your legs, holding you in place, and lay down to give her a kiss, holding her head with both your hands, she dugs her fingers in the flesh of your thighs, you kiss her lips softly, giving in the contact, melting into the kiss.

"you're hottest nurse I've ever kissed in my life" you chuckle against her lips, she gives you a peck before you get away

"So, are you gonna let the nurse change that bandage of yours or what?" you ask, and she nods, still smiling, holding on to you but finally letting go to allow you to go take the kit.

You come back from the bathroom with a wet cloth in one hand and the red box in the other one, you gesture her to sit straight, and lay her head back, regaining your last position straddling her waist, and her hands fly back to hold your thighs.

You start by slowly taking the old bandage off to avoid hurting her, you take the wet cloth and start cleaning the wound with it, gently tapping around it. She looks at your focused frown, smiling over how seriously you're taking your job. She runs her fingers through the soft skin of your thighs, every time her hands move she reaches higher until she is no longer touching your legs, but your ass, squeezing it gently, making you jump

"Hey! I'm trying to work here, stop distracting me!" You scold her, but she doesn't retreat, her hands keep wondering around, you try to make it as fast as you can.

Applying the bandage on her forehead delicately, you give her a peck on the lips "you're all set" you announce

"thank you nurse, i was wondering, maybe there's something else you could help me with?" she says to your surprise "sure, what would that be?"

"well you see, my very concerned and beautiful girlfriend used to be the one to take care of me, but ever since you came, I haven't seen her around, so maybe you could take care of me tonight, maybe for a bit longer" she says with the sexiest voice, batting her eyelashes to add up to the act, you just follow her play.

"well this one girlfriend of yours sounds like a very nice lady, but i guess i could help you out" you kiss her again, lustfully, running your hands through her hair, down to her sides, until you reach the hemline of her shirt, and you tug on it "how about if we start by removing this?"

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

[wjhik]

Maybe We Were a Bit Too Loud.. (Jude Bellingham) *Smut*

A/N: been a bit too many Jude stories. if yall have any trent requests pls send

Y/N's POV:

Jude and I have both been so occupied in our work, we have barely got any time to spend with our daughter, let alone ourselves. Kiera had a play at school, so I got off work early. Unfortunately, Jude couldn't make it. She was quite upset about it, but I made sure to make it up to her. We had a girls day. We went to the Salon and got our nails done. I needed a refill on my nails and she wanted to get some color for her birthday party in a few days. I also got her some ice cream and had a shopping spree.

"Mama! Mama! Mama!" Kiera yells. She really doesn't have to be so loud. I'm right next to her. It has been a long day. As fun as it was, it was fucking exhausting. I look at her and she shows me some toy that she has, explaining it as if I didn't buy it for her. "Honey, that's amazing." I play into her excitement. "Mum, I'm hungry." She tells me, abruptly dropping her toy. "Let's get you some food, my little hungry bunny." I say, scooping her up and kissing her tummy. She starts wriggling in a fit of ticklish laughter.

I finish making spaghetti Bolognese as per my hungry bunny's request. She's just like her father. I take out her Minnie Mouse plate from the kitchen cabinet and give her some pasta. I also pair it with some leftover mashed potato and some freshly steamed broccoli and carrots. "Mama! I don't like carrots!" Kiera yells, very politely. "I know, sweetheart, but if you don't want to end up with glasses like mama, you have to have them." I tell her. She's not a picky eater, unlike me, but carrots are her weakness. It's not fun waking up to see a blurry husband, and if she wants to escape my genetic curse of poor eyesight, she has to eat her carrot. "Hmph. Fine." She says, crossing her arms but still listening to me. She's such a blessing.

As I'm serving myself the spaghetti and the vegetables (purely to be a good roll model to my daughter) for myself, I hear the door lock rattling. I look up to see my husband walk through the door. "Daddy!!" Kiera yells, attempting to get off of our high counter chairs. Jude quickly walks to his carbon copy and picks her up. "Hello, my love." He says, littering her face with kisses and placing her back on her chair. She continues munching away at her veggies. "Mhh...Whatever you made smells amazing." He says, walking to the back of the counter, where I place my plate onto the table and get out his plate. "Spaghetti Bolognese." I tell him. He grabs me by the waist and places a kiss on my head. "Missed ya." He says, then placing a kiss on my lips. "Missed you too." I reply. "Ewwww." We hear a little voice say. Our little love session is interrupted by Kiera fake gagging. She learns too much from Jobe. "Alright, alright. Go sit down, love." I tell Jude. He sits down and I place his food in front of him. He quickly gobbles it up.

"Mama, can we watch bluey?" Kiera asks. "No, honey. It's mama's turn to choose." Jude says. Kiera is sat on her little pink blanket at the left in of our very large L-shaped white couch. Jude and I are sitting on the right side. "But, daddy-" She argues back. "No 'but's." Jude says sternly. "You got your turn yesterday, and I was before you. Mama's last few turns were taken by us, too. It's time we let her choose." He explains to our daughter. She lets out a huff and puff. "Jude, it's not that serious. Let her watch. I'm pretty tired anyways." I whisper to Jude a bit too loud. "Yay! Thank you, mama!" She says, taking the remote from Jude and playing her show. "Baby, you can't give in." Jude begins a lecture. "Hey, don't tell me. You're the one who spoils her." I tell him. I'm supposed to be the strict parent, not him.

Jude put's his arm over my shoulders after the 76th episode of these stupid Australian dogs. I would go to bed, but this is the only family time we've had in weeks. I reach for my phone to check when bedtime will roll around. I let out a sigh as I realize tomorrow is a weekend, therefor she can sleep in. Jude senses my frustration and pulls me in deeper. Kiera's trance is broken when she looks over to see her parents at peace. She immediately stands up on the couch makes the strut towards us. She decides to sit right in between Jude and I, of course cuddling him and giving me her back. Jude and I's cuddle session was cut way too short.

My head moves from it’s comfortable position on the back of the couch to look at where the little snores are coming from. I see our little monkey finally asleep after 3 long hours of Australian dogs. I pat Jude's arm and he, in response, picks her up and starts walking towards the stairs. I clean up some of the cups, snacks, and toys left on the coffee table and quickly follow Jude's path. I close the baby gate at the top of the stairs Jude installed when Kiera starting crawling and head towards Keira's bedroom. I creak the door open to see Jude putting her into bed. He firmly tucks her into bed and places her pink bunny next to her. On his way out, he turns on her moon-shaped nightlight, as she's afraid of the dark, and shuts the door behind him.

Jude backs out of the room, still facing his daughter. He turns around and gets slightly startled by me standing directly behind him. "Fuck, baby. You scared me. I didn't know you were there." He says putting his hand on his own chest. "I'm sorry." I tell him, nuzzling myself into his chest. I haven't been able to feel Jude without another little lady jumping on him. Jude places his hand on the back of my head and pushes me further into him. "Let's get you to bed, pretty lady." He grabs my hand and leads me to our shared bedroom.

"Where are you going? You've already done all your bathroom shit." He tells me as I throw the blanket off myself. "Mama's going to go change into some PJs. She doesn't feel like being caught in a bra and panties when Keira decides to love bomb you tomorrow morning." Did I just say that? "Mama's gonna do what?" Jude makes fun of my use of 'mom language'. "See what this damn kid is doing to me?" I tell him, walking into our walk-in closet. I walk into my side of our closet. I open the drawer of 'sexy' underwear I have. it's basically has cobwebs on it. I pick out Jude's formerly favorite white set. I look at myself in the mirror, feeling better about myself than the last time I put it on.

Jude took me to a fancy hotel a few weeks after Keira was born to give me a break. I decided to bring along this set to 'impress' him. I was freshly postpartum, and I felt very insecure. I haven't put it on since then, but I've been working hard to get my prepartum body back. Obviously, I don't look the same as young, active, 20-year-old Y/N Jude met, but I would say I look pretty darn okay. I quickly slip on a silky robe, coming right under my arse. I tie it in a way where it cinches my waist and leaving the front open enough to give Jude a peak of his former bestie.

Jude is sat up on his side of the bed, book in hand. (Jude 110% does not read before but, but dad!jude does) I walk over to my side of the bed, taking an excessive amount of time in hopes that Jude will notice me. "Hey, baby? I was wondering if- Whoa." He says, taking his eyes away from his book. "Whoa?" I say, pretending to be clueless. Jude quickly puts his book on the side table and pushes the blanket off of his lap. He gets up and walks towards me. I open my arms for him to come into. He grabs my waist and I wrap my arms around his neck. "You look amazing, love." He tells me, leaning in to kiss my neck. He starts licking and sucking on the sensitive spot behind my ear. "Jude..." I moan, throwing my head back. Jude leaves my neck and puts his hands right where my robe ends. He effortlessly lifts me up.

He goes back to kissing me as he walks us over to the bed. He places me in the middle of it. He undoes my robe and kisses me from my neck down to my stomach. He leaves a few bites and marks on my stomach. He works his way down to my panties and slowly takes them off. He starts to lick and suck on my clit. He slowly works his way up to using 3 fingers inside me. I'm moaning and whining with my hands in his hair. "Fuck, Jude. That feels so good!" I moan out, grabbing his hair even tighter. Normally, he would talk a lot during sex, but he's so focus on me and making me feel good that he can't be bothered to dirty talk.

"Fuck, baby. Just like that. Ride me like that. Taking me so well." He says, pushing my hips back and forth. He has my robe open up top, but tied up. I ended up getting too cold, but we were too eager to stop to change the temperature, so I put on the robe again. I have my hands on his chest, using him as leverage to keep me moving. I feel my legs give out, and Jude senses it. He grabs me and flips me onto the bed. He quickly gives me a passionate kiss and pulls out of me. "Turn over, baby. On your belly." He tells me. I quickly obey, too horny to resist. I get on my hands and knees. Jude pushes his dick back in and thrusts into me at an ungodly pace. The headboard is slamming against our wall, and I'm making some very loud and lewd noises. Jude reaches up to my head and grabs a handful of my long hair. He wraps it around his hand and uses it to pull my head back. He uses this to kiss my neck, leaving even more marks than before. He pulls me off my hands and makes me grab the headboard. He wraps his unused hand around my throat and squeezes lightly. "You like that, baby? Like the way I'm fucking you?" Jude grunts into my ear. "Yes, baby. Fuck, you fuck me so good!" I moan out. I can feel a knot start to go undone in my stomach. "Baby, I'm gonna-" I tell him, reaching back to put my hands in his hair. "I know, sweetie. Cum for me. Cum around me, my love." As I hear that, I quickly let my orgasm wash over me, Jude following close behind me, filling me up with his warm cum.

"That was amazing." He tells me, kissing my sweaty forehead. Jude had cleaned me and himself up and gotten us some very fancy champagne from our wine cellar. "I know. I'm glad we got some time alone, finally." I tell him, looking up to kiss his lips. It's been way too long since Jude and I got freaky. It's hard to find the time when you're raising the clingiest child of all time. Jude takes a sip of his sparkly drink and turns on the electronic fireplace. It's mainly ambience, but it's nice to have. He turns off the two nightlights and gets comfy. Him and I drink and talk the night away, until we both cave to our parental positions and fall asleep with a show in the background.

(Time skip)

I open my eyes to see a blurry world. I reach over to the side table where I fumble until I find my glasses. I put them on and turn to face my husband. Somewhere along the night, he turned off the T.V. and tucked us into bed, taking off my glasses and placing them on my side table. On the rare occasion where I get to see him, he looks so beautiful in the mornings. I snuggle into him and kiss his forehead. I nuzzle into him and close my eyes once again, enjoying the quite morning. No rush. No Keira. This is nice. I feel Jude stirring slightly. He knows I'm awake as I have my glasses on. He places a kiss on my lips as I kiss him back. "Good morning." I tell him, giddy as ever. It's like it's our first night together at his mum's place again. "Good morning, love." He says in his raspy morning voice. Him and I chat a little before hearing a door creak open. I look over Jude's shoulder to see Kiera standing there with her bunny in her hands, her hair wild as ever.

"Can I come in?" She asks, rubbing her eyes. I quickly but discreetly slip on my panties that were discarded the night before. "Of course, love." Jude says, opening his arms to his baby girl. He places her in the middle of us, and for once she chooses to cuddle me and not Jude. I accept her cuddles with open arms and pull her in closer. "I like this. It's soft." She tells me, rubbing over my robe. Jude lets out a laugh and kisses the back of her head. He slings his arm over the two of us and pulls us into him.

"Daddy? I have a question." She asks her father who has his head on the pillow and his eyes closed. He lets out a 'hmm?' while keeping his eyes closed. "Are you nice to mama?" Jude and and I are both shocked by the question. "Of course he is, baby. Why are you asking?" I ask her. "I heard some banging on the wall yesterday and you yelling." She tells us, now sitting up. Jude and I both mentally face palm. I look at him, expecting an answer just to see him looking at me the same way. "Sweety, mama and I were just playing. She's fine." Jude explains to her. "But you said that you shouldn't play in a way where people get hurt." She says crossing her arms, visibly upset with her daddy. "Baby, I wasn't hurt." I tell her, rubbing her arm. "Then, why were you yelling?" She asks. "Umm..." I look over to Jude for an answer once again, but he is looking around the room, playing dumb. Amazing. "You know how you start yelling when your daddy tickles you? Like that." I come up with an excuse. "Oh. Daddy tickled you for a long time then." Jude starts snickering and I simply nod. Keira nods, satisfied with the answer. Jude tells her to go use the toilet and brush her teeth. She gets up and marches out of the room.

"So, can I tickle you again?"

Wattpad: funkyfishfeet

DM for requests

[cemeteryspider]

In the Wake of Destruction: Part 1

Gambit! Remy LeBeau x Mutant! Reader

Summary: Remy leaves on his trip to Genosha, an emotional retelling of season 1 episode 5 "Remember It" from across the globe.

Trigger Warnings: Character Death, Violence, Emotional Distress, and Injury

Word Count: 1310

You let yourself relax on the couch next to Morph and let your head dangle off the back. You felt him shift next to you so you peeked open your eyes to see him, transformed into Remy making googly eyes at you and puckering his lips.

You groaned and scrunched your eyes closed once again, "Don't be a dick, Morph."

"Relax sweetie, he's gonna be just fine, he's in the one place mutants are protected in the world," He put his hand on your knee, and you huffed looking at him again.

"I know, Morph. That doesn't mean I don't worry about him," You set your head in your hands and heard loud footsteps in the hallway.

Wolverine came in, thunking Morph upside his head, "Don't make the lady more upset than she already is." 

Morph rubbed his head, shifting back to his normal form, "Alright, alright, just trying to lighten the mood."

Logan gave a small grunt, settling onto the couch next to you. "Ain't nothing light about waiting for news like this. Feels like the calm before the storm."

"Calm down, Wolvie, we were just talking about the good ol' thief," With that your eyes shifted back to the television screen where you watched live news coverage from Genosha.

When Remy told you he was leaving to go to Genosha with Rogue and Magneto you were immediately hesitant. Not because you did trust him around the auburn-headed bombshell on the jet, no you knew that ship had sailed a long time ago.

No, it was an odd feeling in your stomach. Something in you begging him not to leave, but as you racked your head thinking for a reason you couldn't find any. He told you that he needed to see that the place was really what it said it was. To ensure that it truly was a sanctuary for mutants.

You had Beast search the jet for any and all issues, you asked Magneto if there were any rising tensions in Genosha to which he replied 'Nothing out of the ordinary', you even had Scott ask Madelyne Pryor, which you did not condone them continuing to speak, yet still nothing came up.

Not a single reason you should be worried about him traveling, yet as the day approached, you still asked him to stay anyway.

"Maybe you should stay home, I'm not feeling too great, Remy," You latched onto his arm as you walked him to the landing pad.

He looked at you with a smirk, " I promise I'll be back before you know it, Chere."

Setting his bag down, he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you in the air momentarily. When your feet hit the ground once more his lips enveloped yours in a passionate kiss.

"We do not have time for your romantic hijinks at the moment, let us go,” Magneto grunted as he stepped into the jet.

Remy glanced at you one last time, his eyes softening, "I need to see it for myself, Chere. If Genosha is really the sanctuary they claim, it could change everything for mutants. For us. I want to build a future where we don’t have to hide, where we can be safe." He kissed you softly, his touch lingering, as if trying to imprint the memory of you before he left. 

“I love you, Chere” With one last kiss he turned to get on the plane giving you a wave. The plane lifted off the ground within a couple of minutes he was gone. 

“I love you too, Remy,” You whispered into the air.

Several hours later, you were still in the same position, having barely moved except to glance occasionally at the clock. The news had been monotonously reporting about peaceful events in Genosha, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Suddenly and without warning the reporter on the ground stumbled as the building crumbled behind her. Wolverine and Morph jumped up from the couch but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene playing out. 

"Scott! Jean! Everyone get in here!" Someone shouted for the rest of the team, but you couldn't distinguish who. It could have even been you. 

You could only focus on the destruction on screen. The person behind the camera is running towards what might be safety. The once bright and bustling scene of Genosha was now bathed in reds and purples.

You slid from your place on the couch to the floor, hands grasping the sides of your face as you watched your friends, no, family fight the monstrous sentinels.

Your heart slid to a stop, watching one of those beasts destroy Magneto and a gaggle of children with one well-timed strike.

Whatever happened Magneto didn't get up after that attack.

Rogue charged the sentinel, with Remy not far behind on the motorcycle he procured. You knew it was him from the beautiful white suit you helped him pick out for the event and the motorcycle that he expertly wove through the crumbling streets of Genosha. 

He then used the bike to hurl Rogue off her warpath to the side.

"No, Remy, please don't do this," Your words were barely audible as Jubilee sat next to you on the floor, her hand resting on your knee. Every worst-possible-case scenario raced through your head a mile a minute.

It didn't stop Remy from running at the sentinel with all his might. Running and jumping across the broken concrete to get closer. Just close enough to...

Then in a split second, a needle-like appendage was on his side. Even though the cameraman was zoomed in as close as possible, you still couldn't see his face clearly.

Tears blurred your vision, but you quickly blinked them away, forcing yourself to bear witness to this massacre.

The appendage brought Remy close to one of its three faces, but just when you figured the fight was over it started to glow. A pinkish-purple glowed from the seams of the creature. Then in a beautiful pink nuclear-like explosion the camera cut.

Forcing the room to watch the fire covering a section of Genosha, instead of the fates of their friends.

You didn't even hear Trish Tilby's words as you curled up into a ball and continued to block the world out with your tears.

~~~

After the night was over you saw the jet landing just outside, and in a moment of weakness your legs carried you there. An ounce of hope telling you that Remy was sitting in one of the seats waiting to come home to you like he had promised.

However, when Kurt stepped out alone, you could feel the hope draining from your body.

"Meine Freundin," He said as he teleported off the jet and next to you. Still, a part of you waited for the door to open and the stairs to descend. You felt his arm sit around your shoulders.

You looked over at him, misty-eyed already, "Where is he, Kurt?"

He cast his eyes downward, "Gambit is... on the plane. Sadly he cannot come out to greet you."

"He's gone?" Your tears mixed with the light rain.

With a small sigh, he stepped in front of you, "Es tut mir so leid, freund."

“You’re wrong.”

“I am not. I am so sorry for that.”

"But he promised," You fell to your knees and allowed Kurt to kneel in front of you, taking you into his arms as sobs racked your body, "He promised."

The rain didn't stop that day. As you stayed there, embraced by Kurt's comforting presence, memories flicked through your mind. Then a thought, the life with Remy you never had, a house, and kids. You cried harder into Kurt’s shoulder; you wanted it so badly. 

The rain mingled with your tears, but within you, a spark of determination began to flicker.

[jamiesfootball]

Season two of the Ted Lasso rewatch and I am having some string feelings. Some strong feelers. Some shrimp about Ted and Jamie and how Ted really, really struggles between being Coach Shaped and being Dad Shaped when it comes to Jamie, and how Jamie is horrible at discerning either.

(Buckle up this is gonna be a long one)

Because what we start off with in season one is very much a man who is used to being Coach Shaped. He wants the boys to be inspired and to learn about life and to become the best versions of themselves that they can be. All of which could be very Dad Shaped, but in execution they’re not.

He steps back to let people grow, and sometimes that involves letting bullies be bullies so that the true leaders of the group can step up. Sometimes it’s letting Nate roast the other players- quite cuttingly at that - to get the team motivated. He’s directing the orchestra sure, but he’s not in the pit telling people how better to get along. He’s warm and welcoming, and he tries to foster good rapport and encourage people to talk to him and open up. He, dare I say it, actually has boundaries with people. He asked Rebecca in the first episode how she was holding up with the divorce, and when she seemed upset he noted it, offered a little commiseration, and moved right along without making a fuss.

And then he calls Jamie Tartt into his office to give him a compliment sandwich (“you’re a great athlete now pass the fucking ball and then you’ll be a super great athlete okay thanks”) and I think that’s where Ted’s boundary with Jamie first starts to erode. Because Jamie unintentionally ruins his whole fucking script. Jamie’s disaffected act crumbles at the first compliment. He’s sincerely taken aback by Ted’s praise, a little nervous and a little pleading. He breaks the rules of compliment sandwiching by demurring “well I work really hard”, which forces Ted to agree which is in a way TWO compliments, and when Ted tries to push through with his critique, Jamie ends up critiquing himself first about something completely different (“my left cross”), and then Ted has to wrestle them back to the actual critique, and the whole thing is just. Definitely not the ordeal Ted thought it would be.

So from early on we have these two working at cross purposes - because Ted thinks he’s being Coach Shaped, but the Shape he is doesn’t fit any Coach Jamie has ever had.

“what’s he like?”

“Great”

“…….”

“Well great at football”

“Yeah, I’ve know guys like that.”

And in return, Ted has known ‘guys like that’, competent athletes who are a necessary part of the game, but have such egos (“I’m not sure you realize how mentally healthy that is”) that Ted thinks he has to go to his players girlfriend for insight on how to motivate Jamie in the way that Ted needs for team cohesion.

So this is Ted trying to be Coach Shaped and give this kid a wake up call and this kid is so receptive that Ted barely had to lift a finger. But it doesn’t stick.

Ok. So next he attempts to give Jamie a book that he thinks will wake him up to the reality he’s living. He gave them to everyone. He’s still being Coach Shaped. He makes Roy and Jamie sit at the same table and tries to orchestrate a truce. He kinda gets there, but the next episode they’re still at each other’s throats. Jamie listened to Ted about the one in a million / one in eleven thing, but then Jamie ignored it. So he benched him. He’s Coach Shaped; it wasn’t personal.

Except Ted is not has not been anything Coach Shaped that Jamie could recognize, and football really is his life too. So it was very fucking personal. And here’s the first wrinkle in the narrative both of them have been telling themselves, because what does Jamie do? He fakes an injury and benches himself.

If Ted doesn’t think he should play, or doesn’t think that the way he’s playing is correct, then fine- he’ll make them both miserable. He just won’t fucking play. It’s kid logic at its finest. It’s cutting your nose to spite your face. ‘Well you said I wasn’t doing it right, so I won’t do it at all.’

It’s the same shit Jamie pulls on his dad when he leaves Man City to go be a reality tv star.

And it’s the first crack in the veneer between them, because the way Ted loses his shit at Jamie for it is not very Coach Shaped, but it is very very Dad Shaped. And unfortunately it was the sort of Dad Shaped that Jamie did recognize.

It’s the first loss of control Ted has in general, and it’s circling this player that Ted can’t seem to get a grip on.

And then there’s Jamie going to Keeley, and he’s got Manchester on his mind. It’s the first time we’ve heard him talk about the council estate he grew up in, and Keeley is telling him to stop battling people who want to help him. So he goes to the bonfire. And he talks about the fucking footprint his dad left in his wake. And he talks wistfully about his mom being proud. And this isn’t just about opening up to the team, it’s also about Jamie Tartt not battling Ted. Taking a risk that even if Ted isn’t very Coach Shaped, even if he appears closer to Dad Shaped than Jamie would like, whatever Ted is - Jamie is probably safe to be a little honest.

It’s not very Star Athlete With An Ego of him; but it’s very very Son Shaped.

“I was just starting to get through to him.”

Ted’s anger with Rebecca could be Coach Shaped. It could be. But it sure hurt him enough that it’s the first time he’s actually angry with Rebecca. Meanwhile Jamie was so hurt he had to tell everyone who would listen about it. Had to iterate that it was good riddance on being rid of Ted Lasso, because at least Pep was a proper Coach Shaped Coach. Someone who’d drill Jamie on the technicals. Someone who probably never once cared enough to pull him aside and tell him if he did a good job. Someone who probably assumed that’s what Jamie’s dad was for, showing up after matches.

“Good luck out there, Jamie!”

“Fucking mind games.”

Whatever Jamie already thought of Ted as a coach must’ve been rolling in the pit Jamie tried to bury it in, because Coach Shaped men don’t cheer you on when you’re playing for the other team. Pep wouldn’t do it if he still played for Richmond.

And maybe Coach Lasso does it for everyone he coaches. Probably. But it’s a very Dad Shaped thing. And fuck, Jamie’s actual fucking dad doesn’t cheer for him at all when Jamie isn’t playing for Manchester, so how’s Jamie supposed to know what it means?

Then there’s Ted, who just can’t help himself. Who can’t help but see potential in Jamie. And when he sees Jamie after the match, it’s a quick war on whether he should speak to him because in that instance Coach mode and Dad mode are in alignment.

Except reality hits as hard as a boot against the wall, because Jamie has a dad. And it’s not Ted. It’s not someone who’s come to tell him well done, or that he’s proud of the baby steps Jamie has taken, even though he’s been left to walk them alone. It is the opposite of what a father should be, but it’s taken up the mantle. Father Shaped. A thing of fury. A role fulfilled, not looking for new applicants.

Coach wins in that moment. Ted turns and walks away, and Jamie can finally see now in Ted Lasso the Coach Shape he’s familiar with.

Except even that can’t stick around and be familiar can it? Because while no one was looking, the Dad Shape in Ted scribbled him a little message. Left a note in his absence to let him know he was proud. Sent Beard with an army man, someone to lookout for Jamie and keep him safe. I’d say at this point a Ted Lasso couldn’t’ve drawn a line between Coach Shaped and Dad Shaped - this was a matter of pure human empathy, and decency, and an apology in its own way. I’m sorry for the roles we’ve been given. I’m sorry, but please know I care.

He walked away from Jamie and his dad. He didn’t have any obligation to Jamie. There was no more match to be won. Any involvement of Jamie Tartt in Ted’s life coulda woulda should’ve ended there.

“There’s something out there worse than being sad, and that’s being sad and alone. And ain’t nobody in this room alone.”

The look on Jamie’s face in that scene says it all. Because he is alone, but Ted clearly (desperately) doesn’t want him to be.

But being alone is better than being stuck in a room with James Tartt Sr.

Jamie doesn’t go to Ted first after Lust Conquers All. Why would he (think he had the right to)?

The first thing Jamie does do (after Keeley tells him it’s ok to go to Ted) when he meets Ted again is show him the Ted (Danson) Soldier. Ted may have made the gesture, and Jamie may have understood the meaning of it, but he does Not understand Ted. Not this Coach-but-Not-a-Coach. Still Jamie thinks he has the distinction down - what soft underbelly he thinks he needs to bare for this type of Coach to believe him when asks for a chance to come home.

“You were getting good minutes up at City.”

Ted redirects Jamie here in a very Coach Shaped way. He guides Jamie into admitting the real reason why he quit. He hears Jamie out, makes observations about how Jamie coming back would work from a team perspective, and makes only occasional eye contact. This is Ted clinging to a role that he’s used to, the one that comforts him in its ability to help other people.

(If there is something Dad Shaped in that scene, it’s an awful, haunting one. Not the one that Jamie grew up with, but the one that Ted grew up with. The one who took his son to play darts every Sunday for six years, who probably sat next to him and drank beer the way Ted does)

But Ted never set out to be anyone’s dad. He’s their Coach, and he has a responsibility to everyone on his team. It’s nothing personal; he’s just being a Coach.

They clink glasses. Cheers, and best of luck to your future endeavors.

There is something very tired about the way Jamie puts down his beer without taking a sip. He looks lost. He does not look surprised. (How could you have expectations for something you’ve never known? And how come that doesn’t make him feel any better about it?)

We don’t see Jamie after that.

We see Ted at training, worrying about Dr Sharon watching the team he’s made. He worries that she’s getting closer (metaphor). When Sam storms off the field, Ted is startled but relieved to follow. He doesn’t want self examination. He wants to be Coach. He wants to embrace the parts of coaching he’s always loved- helping other people improve and be better.

Sam tells him that he doesn’t want Jamie back on the team, and there’s a split second of relief from Ted because he made the right call.

Then Sam talks about his father, and how his father is grateful for Ted because with Ted around, he knows his son is safe. Because this has nothing to do with being Coach Shaped. Coach Shaped he may be in Sam’s life, but here’s Sam, who is very Son Shaped himself, and his father agreeing that Coach Lasso serves a greater purpose in Sam’s life than just being a supportive motivator. In their mind, in the absence of a father, Ted Lasso will do just fine. He will keep Sam safer than any little green army man.

That’s the final inexorable blurring of the lines for Ted, where the coach finally drops the ball to pay attention to the scraped knees that have been left behind.

Ted calls the Diamond Dogs meeting. Coach Beard and Coach Nate are very Coach Shaped indeed. What about the teamwork, Ted? “He’s the poop in the punch bowl.” Leslie is for bringing him back, but it’s for football reasons. It makes managerial sense.

But none of it means anything to Ted because at that moment he can not find it in himself to be Coach Shaped.

“I thought it was settled, but Sam went and unsettled it.”

“He reminded me that not everyone is lucky enough to have a good dad.”

“In sports aren’t we always on about second chances? Shouldn’t that apply to people too?”

This is not Coach Shaped. In some ways it’s not even Dad Shaped. But it is caring, and empathy, and wanting an excuse, any excuse, to try again. It is Love Shaped.

Ted Lasso is a coach to his team and a dad to a great little boy down in Kansas, and for Jamie Tartt he can try to fit on a third extra thing. Whatever that thing is called. Neither of them know what that thing is called. They’re too familiar with Coaches and too unfamiliar with Dads to know the difference.

[lolasimms]

hcs about your married life with abby pls 🙇🏽‍♀️

wife abby headcanons pt.1

part 2 part 3

౨ৎ she’s an early bird and is almost always up at 6 am.

౨ৎ starts her morning off with cuddling you and then she’s off to the gym.

౨ৎ you wake up to an empty bed most mornings which usually you rant to her about.

౨ৎ your breakfast is usually simple, overnight oats and fruit, which she bullies you for.

౨ৎ she on the other hand insists on eating a high protein breakfast, for “gains”.

౨ৎ she’s a certified gym rat, which you find super hot.

౨ৎ when you’re really horny she takes pre-workout to make sure her stamina is up for you.

౨ৎ this usually leaves you saddle sore and aching for the next two days

౨ৎ she gets off on your overly domestic nature, especially when you take care of her.

౨ৎ if she’s got a cold or a throat infection you always pamper her and insist on feeding her soups and tea.

౨ৎ most weekends are spent lounging around the house as she’s not a very social person, neither are you.

౨ৎ some weekends are also spent at her father, Jerry’s place.

౨ৎ the three of you make dinners, play board games and he loves breaking out the photo album to embarrass her.

౨ৎ she earns a lot (she’s a doctor) so she’s always spoiling you.

౨ৎ loves to wine and dine you, especially when you both have time off work.

౨ৎ she can only cook staple meals, so she’s always impressed by the food you make for her.

౨ৎ she tends to overwork herself and usually comes back home tired.

౨ৎ despite the fact that she comes home exhausted she still insists on pleasing you.

୨୧

“Abs we shouldn’t, you just got off a 12 hour shift, you need to rest.” You press your wife but she’s ignoring you and pulling you into her.

“Doesn’t matter baby, I’m perfectly fine. Need to please my wife, you know what they say.” Both her hands are griping your thighs and pulling you towards the end of the bed.

“What do they say?” You question, accepting defeat, and allowing her to manhandle you.

“Happy wife, happy life.” In one quick motion, she’s tugged your pyjama shorts, along with your underwear off.

“What if you fall asleep mid eating pussy and I crush you to death?”

“Trust me baby, death by your pussy would probably be the best way for me to die.”

You tried scooching up toward the pillows , but Abby’s hands had a tight grip on your thighs. She wasn't going to let you get away. You were all the way at the end of bed now with her head in between your legs. She was tasting every bit of you, nibbling and marking you up. Your hands made their way to her hair, grabbing handfuls as her tongue swiped over your clit. All feelings of exhaustion from her taxing 12 hour shift were thrown out the window once she got to taste you, and you were fucking enjoying it.

You gasped. "Mmm...Abs..." Abby was loving every minute as she lapped you up. She pulled you closer, practically burying her face in your pussy. Your moans only added fuel to the fire burning inside of her. She was sucking your clit now and you could hear how wet you were for her. As she worked your cunt, two of her fingers were deep inside of you, fucking you for all you were worth and drawing a whimper from your throat. She was so fucking enthusiastic about eating your pussy and damn good at it too.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet." She panted, her breath like fire against your skin. "Gonna make you cum for me."

୨୧

౨ৎ The two of you love watching tv shows together, though she has a habit of not paying attention.

౨ৎ You’ll be well into a show and she’ll be wondering where a certain character went, when they got killed off like 5 episodes ago.

౨ৎ Falls asleep in your lap while you’re watching movies and shows because the poor thing works so hard.

౨ৎ Your name in her phone is ‘wifey’

౨ৎ Once again, she loves to spoil you, against your will of-course.

౨ৎ Buys you things if you look at them for even a second too long.

౨ৎ Her anniversary presents are always the best.

౨ৎ She insists that you don’t buy her stuff simply because you being her wife is enough.

౨ৎ On your 5 year wedding anniversary you open a box that has a pregnancy test in it, as you’d been discussing having children.