#+10 points if they double down on said wording and then later say it was bc they are neurodivergent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sourwolf-sterek32 · 9 months

Text

Found You- Part 5

Summary: Nearly 10 years ago, you left home after a bad incident with your parents, Rick and Lori Grimes. In that time, you married a redneck down south and started a family. But it all came crashing down when the dead started to walk.

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 12.4k

Warnings: language, violence, blood, death

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Rick sat on the edge of the bathtub while you knelt in front of him cleaning the cut on his hand with disinfectant.

The horde of walkers had surrounded Alexandria, but for now, the walls were holding. So, you took the time to help him since he refused to go to the infirmary.

The kids had been relieved to see their father and grandfather. Rick quickly checked on Judith who to your own shock had slept through the entire thing in her crib.

"Are you hurt?" Your father questioned, speaking for the first time since you dragged him away from the kids and sat him down in the bathroom.

You looked up at him in confusion to find his eyes glued to your bloodstained shirt.

Oh, right. The blood.

"It isn't mine." You answered, thinking back to the woman you had tried to help. "I'm fine."

He shook his head, "you're not."

"Yeah, well, seeing those attackers butcher and murder people will do that to you." You responded with a shrug. "But I'm fine. I have to be."

"I'm sorry."

"Dad, it's not your fault."

"I took most of Alexandria's fighters away from here." He pointed out.

"And if you didn't, that entire horde from the quarry would be at our doorstep instead of just half. You did the right thing." You reassured, putting the cap back on the bottle of disinfectant before you grabbed the roll of bandages from the kit.

Rick didn't say anything as he stared down at his hand while you gently began to wrap the clean bandage around the deep cut on his palm. How he managed to cut himself like that was a question you didn't want answered.

"There. That should do it." You announced a minute later once the bandage was secure.

Rick clenched and unclenched his hand in a fist testing it out and you were about to tell him not to do that before he started to speak.

"I don't know how long those walls will hold."

Hearing the fear in your father's voice was something you hated. Rick was always so strong, always the brave one, but right now he was terrified and the fact that he was showing this emotion in front of you was rare.

"The walkers are spread right around the community. They’re not all pushing against one spot, right? So, it'll be fine." You insisted with fake confidence.

You had no idea if those walls would hold either, but Rick needed some kind of reassurance right now, so you were going to give it to him.

"We keep people inside the community quiet, so we don't draw the dead to one part of the wall. If we do that, those walls will hold long enough for Daryl and the others outside to come back and lure them away. That's the plan."

Your father nodded, "okay. That could work."

"It will work." You corrected, reaching forward and resting your hand on his knee. "Now you need to go out there and speak to the community. Deanna isn't in the right headspace at the moment, you need to be the leader."

"Let's go then." He said, standing up from the edge of the bath.

You quickly packed away the first aid kit under the kitchen sink before dashing upstairs and grabbing your weapons belt. You took your handgun from the back of your waistband and secured it in the holster attached to the belt before double checking that your hunting knife was in the sheath and once you were satisfied that everything was in place, you went back downstairs.

The boys were waiting by the front door for you. Rick already walking down the street with Carl holding Judith following behind him.

"Is there really walkers surrounding our home?" Dean asked.

You nodded, "there is. But dad and Uncle Merle will draw them away with the car and bike soon."

The boys both nodded, seeming satisfied with that answer and weren't too worried about the giant herd of the dead outside the walls which was a small relief, because you did not have time to handle one of them if they had a meltdown about it.

You and the boys made your way down the street, following Rick and Carl, and to your surprise most of the Alexandrians were already by the front gate, well, the Alexandrians that were still alive anyway.

They all looked panicked, terrified while the growls of walkers came from past the gate.

"You can hear it. Some of you saw it." Rick began to say, addressing the group of people in front of him. "They got back here, half of them. Still enough to surround us 20 deep. Look, I know you're scared. You haven't seen anything like this. You haven't been through anything like this. But we're safe for now."

The confidence and strength in your father’s voice was finally back. The worried and fearful tone from earlier completely gone and replaced with his inner Police Officer voice that he used to get people to listen, and it seemed to be working.

Everyone was staring straight at him, they were all scared, but were looking at him for guidance.

"That panel the truck hit seems intact. We reinforce it just in case. Either way, the wall's gonna hold together. Can you?" Rick asked, looking around at everyone. "The others, they're gonna be back."

"They're gonna be back." Rosita nodded, backing him up.

"Daryl, Merle, Abraham, they have vehicles. They're gonna lead 'em away, just like the others. And Glenn and Nicholas are gonna walk back through the front gate after. They know what they're doing. And we know what we need to do. We keep noise to a minimum. Pull our blinds at night. Even better, keep the lights out. We'll try to make this place as quiet as a graveyard, see if they move on."

"This place is a graveyard." One of the civilians spoke up.

You glanced over at her to find a few others nodding in agreement.

"The quarry broke open and those walkers were heading this way. All of ‘em. The plan that my father put into place stopped that happening. He got half of them away." You suddenly said, speaking loudly for everyone to hear. "We lost some people today, yes. But we fought and took back control of our community from those attackers. We can do it again."

Rick glanced over at you, giving you a grateful nod while your boys stood either side of you and nodded along to your words.

"I was out there recruiting with Daryl." Aaron began to say. "I wanted to try to get into cannery and scavenge, and Daryl wanted to keep looking for people. We did what I wanted... and we wound up in a trap set by those people. I lost my pack. They must've followed our tracks. Those people who attacked us... they found their way back here because of me."

"That is not on you." You stated sternly, not wanting him to blame himself.

Daryl had told you about that incident and the second you saw those W's on their foreheads earlier, you knew who those attackers were.

"Deanna? Deanna?" Someone called out.

You glanced over your shoulder to find the older woman walking away from the group without a word, but none of you tried to stop her.

"I can take first watch on the platform." You said, looking back over at your father who nodded.

"Can we come with you?" Ricky asked, looking up at you.

Guess there was no harm in the boys joining you on the watch platform.

"Yeah, come on."

The others in Alexandria got to work cleaning up the aftermath of the attack. They buried the bodies of the dead, cleaning up the street while you stood on the watch platform with the boys overlooking the horde of walkers surrounding the community.

A few civilians began to write the names of the fallen on one of the walls like a form of a memorial, and you hated that they included Glenn's name among them. Glenn couldn't be dead. He was too smart to die out there. He would be back, you knew he would be.

"How many do you think are out there?" Dean asked, drawing his slingshot and firing a rock at one of the walkers.

You watched proudly as the rock pierced the walker straight through the forehead before it dropped to the ground, dead permanently.

Ever since they got those slingshots the boys had been nothing but trouble, but you were surprised at how good they were both at aiming with them. Daryl had clearly taught them well.

"More than what we can kill." Ricky answered, flicking his slingshot and taking down one of the other walkers. "It's good practice though."

"Your father would be proud." You smiled, watching the two continue to kill the walkers.

It was barely making a dent in the large herd, but like your eldest said, it was good practice for them, and it was silent, so there was no harm in doing it.

"When is dad coming back?" Dean asked, glancing up at you.

You sighed, staring out at the sea of the dead unsure how to answer that question. Truth was, you had no idea if Daryl or Merle or any of the others were even alive. They were leading the other half of the herd away and it was a dangerous job, anything could go wrong.

Daryl might be dead, and there was nothing you could do.

"I don't know, baby." You admitted, but you weren't going to tell either of them that their father could be dead. They didn't need to be worrying or stressing over that, not yet.

"He will be back soon. Dad will save us." Ricky reassured, patting his little brother on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go collect more rocks for ammo."

Ricky gave you a small smile before he climbed back down the ladder of the watch platform, Dean quickly following after him. You looked back out along the horizon hoping, praying that Daryl's motorcycle would appear down the road.

He had to be alive out there.

He had to be.

"You should go home and get some rest."

You flinched at your father's voice not expecting any company at this hour at night. You glanced over your shoulder just as he climbed up the ladder and stood beside you.

Carol had taken Ricky and Dean home, reassuring you that she would cook them dinner before making sure they went to bed at a reasonable hour while you remained on watch duty.

The sun had long ago disappeared over the horizon, the bright full moon now taking its place in the starry sky above you.

"You need rest too." You reminded, looking back at the walkers below.

"I'll get someone else to take over watch duty. Go home, kiddo." Rick said, resting his hand on your shoulder.

You let out a deep shaky sigh, resting your hand over your fathers as you continued to stare at the walkers below. You weren't even sure why, but you could feel tears burning in the back of your eyes and Rick seemed to sense it.

"Come here." He said, gently pulling you into a hug.

Everything that had happened today. The blood, the death, the destruction, Daryl and Merle possibly dead... it all suddenly hit you like a freight train and you couldn't stop the emotions that you had been holding back all day from finally spilling out.

"Shh. It's okay. I got you. I got you, baby girl." Rick whispered, holding you against his chest as you started to cry in his arms. "I got you."

You buried your face against your father’s chest and squeezed your eyes shut in effort to stop the tears from falling, but it was pointless.

Rick kept whispering soothing words as he held you and for the first time all day, you felt safe while in his arms and allowed yourself to let your guard down while you cried.

"It's going to be okay."

You shook your head against his chest and pulled away, "you don't know that."

Rick smiled sadly at you before he reached up and brushed the tears off your face with his thumbs.

"We've come back from harder things. Daryl will come back. They'll all come back." He reassured, dropping his hand down to your shoulder. "The Dixon brothers are too damn stubborn to die out there anyway, you know that."

You chuckled wetly, but nodded in agreement, "ain't that the truth."

Rick smiled, "go home and get some sleep. It's a new day tomorrow."

You nodded, looking at the walkers one last time before you descended down the ladder and made your way back to your house.

To your relief, the house was quiet as you entered.

Carol and Michonne's bedroom doors were shut indicating that they were asleep and after quickly checking upstairs your boys were fast asleep in their beds in their shared room. You peeked your head into Carls room, but he wasn't inside, so you went back downstairs to the other bedroom where Judiths crib was and found your brother passed out on the chair beside his sisters' crib.

You grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and silently stepped into the bedroom, draping the blanket over Carls body before glancing in the crib at Judiths sleeping form.

All the kids were safe and asleep.

You made your way back out into the main room of the house before collapsing down onto the couch that was facing the front door. You pulled your scoped rifle from over your shoulder and laid the gun across your lap while you stared at the front door on high alert.

You must have eventually fallen asleep because the next thing you knew, you were blinking your eyes open to find daylight now streaming in through the gap under the front door.

Someone was tinkering away in the kitchen, but the rest of the house was still quite so you figured it was fairly early in the morning.

Throwing the rifle back over your shoulder you stood up with a stretch and made your way into the kitchen to find Carol pulling out two pieces of toast from the toaster.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Just in time." She greeted with a smile. "What do you want on your toast?"

You weren't hungry in the slightest and the thought of eating anything made you feel nauseous, but knew you needed to eat since all you had yesterday was a pancake and coffee in the morning.

"Whatever you're having." You replied.

Carol nodded before spreading honey over the pieces of toast and cutting them in half.

"You slept on the couch?" She asked, although it was clear she already knew the answer.

"Yeah, just wanted to be ready in case..." You trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence but she hummed in acknowledgement, knowing what you were trying to say.

"Eat. You need it."

You took one of the halves of toast and ate it without arguing, Carol doing the same while she started to boil water for coffee.

Coffee was definitely something that you needed.

Suddenly, the front door opened, and Rosita walked inside.

"Here." You said, holding out the plate with your other half of toast sitting on it.

"Thanks." She smiled, taking the food while Carol grabbed an extra mug to make her a coffee too without needing to ask. "So, I was thinking about doing a training session today with anyone who wants to learn how to use a knife or machete."

That was actually a good idea. There were Alexandrians that would want to learn how to fight, especially with the walkers surrounding the community at the moment. They would want to know how to protect themselves.

"That's great. Do you need help?" You asked.

She shook her head, "no. I'll be fine. I was coming by to see if your boys wanted to join in? I saw them yesterday up on the platform with their slingshots, they're good. Do you want them to participate in the training?"

"It definitely wouldn't hurt." You nodded. "Daryl and I have taught them the basics with hunting knives, but they could use a refresher. Thanks."

"Here." Carol said, handing you both mugs of coffee. "It's good for people to be prepared. These civilians need to learn how to fight, even the other kids in town too. I'll spread the word and convince people to join."

Rosita nodded taking a sip of her drink while you drank yours too. The three of you fell into silence for a few minutes enjoying the coffee while you could.

"Has anyone seen my dad?" You eventually asked, putting the empty cup down on the table, but they both shook their heads. "I should go find him, see what he has planned for today. Carol can you-"

"I'll watch the kids. Don't worry."

You smiled, "thank you. I'll see you guys later."

You made your way outside, heading straight to the front of the community to check on the wall that the truck had crashed into. Maggie was up on the watch platform keeping an eye on things and no doubt waiting for a signal from Glenn.

You walked along the front wall, inspecting every post and metal sheet for damage, but it was still holding. Rick and Tobin were reinforcing the part where the truck had hit it.

"Need a hand?" You called out watching your father hold a wooden board steady while Tobin hammered it into place with nails.

"Actually, yeah. We wanna build up a brace here just to be safe." Tobin explained motioning towards the damaged part of the fence. "Are you able to run to my place and grab more nails? They're in the garage. My house is number 32."

"Of course, I'll be back in a sec." You said, already turning around and making your way back down the street.

Your eyes scanned the houses on the side of the road because you had no idea which one Tobin’s place was as you looked at the numbers on the old mailboxes until you found the right one.

It wasn't hard to find the packet of nails that were sitting on the workbench inside his garage, and you hurriedly made your way back towards the front of Alexandria to help them build a brace.

"Spencer! Hey, Spencer, get back here!" Your fathers voice shouted in the distance.

Without looking, you knew whatever was happening was bad just by the angry tone of your dad’s voice. What the hell was Spencer up to?

You jogged in the direction of his voice to find your father standing on one of the lookout points along the wall, staring at something outside the community.

Wait, was Spencer outside the walls?

"Spencer!" Tara yelled, matching your fathers’ anger.

Tara and Eugene were standing up on one of the other lookout points which was closer than where your father was further down the wall, so you hastily climbed the ladder up to them to see what was going on.

Spencer had apparently thought it was a good idea to use a grappling hook because he was currently crawling upside down on a rope tied between the wall of Alexandria and a nearby building with the mass number of walkers directly below trying to reach up at him.

Oh, that was a terrible idea.

"Shit. This isn't going to end well." You muttered under your breath, already climbing over the top of the wall to get a better view.

You used the beam on the outside of the wall for stability before you pulled the rifle from your back just as the hook at the end of his rope gave way. Spencer held onto the rope for dear life as it swung him back, his body slamming into the wall of Alexandria before he toppled to the ground amongst the dead.

Your father was shouting at Spencer to climb while you raised your rifle and frantically started to shoot the walkers closest to him.

"Eugene, have Maggie and Rosita fire their guns out from their posts." Tara hurriedly said.

"Why?"

"Just do it!" She ordered, already climbing over the fence beside you with her handgun drawn to help take out the walkers.

Spencer quickly grabbed the rope again and started to climb up it while your father grabbed the other end of the rope, using all his strength to haul Spencer up to safety.

You worked the bolt on the rifle before lining up the next walker by Spencers legs and squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. The weapon made a faint clicking sound, but that was it.

The magazine was empty.

"I'm out of ammo!" You shouted, throwing the rifle over your shoulder just as Tara’s pistol made the exact same clicking sound.

"Shit. Same." She hissed.

It didn't matter though because Rick had managed to pull Spencer back up over the wall with Tobin’s help. Spencer was safe. Tara sighed with relief before she climbed back over the top of the wall.

"Tara! You almost died once for these people!" Rick yelled at her from the other platform. "What the hell were you doing?!"

Tara looked over at your father with her mouth agape in shock before she flipped him off and you rolled your eyes before shuffling back up the beam to follow Tara over the wall.

"And Y/N, what the hell-"

Whatever Rick was going to say died in his throat when your foot suddenly slipped out from underneath you and you only just managed to grab hold of the top of the wall with one hand, the rest of your body dangling rather dangerously above the walkers.

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking, fuck.

"Y/N!" You heard your father shout, but you were more worried about trying to find a nail or bolt against the metal wall to jam your boot into for support because your hand was starting to slip.

"Give me your other hand!" Tara shouted, leaning over the top of the fence and holding her arm down towards you.

The top of the metal wall was cutting into the palm of your hand, but you gritted your teeth and dealt with the pain as you threw your other arm up towards her which she quickly grabbed.

However, if you let go from the top wall Tara wouldn't be able to hold you up on her own, let alone pull you to safety.

Shit.

Michonne's head suddenly popped up beside Tara's and she quickly grabbed your arm with Tara and tried to pull you up, but you knew it was pointless.

You glanced down at the walkers below. Their rotten hands were stretching up towards you, desperate to reach your feet as you tried to pull yourself up with the one hand still on the top of the wall, but you couldn't.

The metal slicing through your palm was really starting to hurt and one look up at the top of the fence, you could see blood dripping down your arm from it.

"Y/N, hold on!" Ricks voice shouted in the background and a few seconds later your father appeared beside the two women and frantically reached down and grabbed your wrist of the other arm. "Let go of the wall. I got you, I promise. Let go of the wall."

Every bone and muscle in your body was screaming at you not to release the wall, but you trusted your father. He wouldn't let you fall.

Reluctantly, you released your grip against the wall, the pain in your palm subsiding instantly and to your relief, Rick and the two women hauled your body up and over the wall in a matter of seconds.

You collapsed to your knees on the wooden platform back in the safety of the community and sucked in a few deep shaky breaths as the shock of nearly dying hit you.

That was close. That was too fucking close.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Rick instructed, kneeling in front of you. "Did you get bit? Y/N?"

You shook your head and held your bleeding hand up, "not bit. Just got a matching cut like yours."

"Jesus Christ." He sighed with relief before pulling out a rag from his pocket and wrapping it around your palm. "Don't you ever do something so reckless like that again, understand?"

"Spencer would've been breakfast for the walkers if I didn't."

"And you were nearly their breakfast because of it." He hissed.

"Rick, she's okay." Michonne reminded, looking down at the two of you. "They're all okay."

Rick nodded, taking in a deep breath to calm himself before he stood up and looked over at Spencer on the other platform.

"Spencer, what the hell was that?!"

"I was trying to help. I wanted to get to a car, draw them away." The guy tried to explain, but your father wasn't having any of it.

"You ever make a climb like that before?" Rick questioned, the anger in his voice from earlier now amplified after you nearly died. "You want to help? Don't make us come running to save you. You got an idea, you come to me!"

"Would you have listened to me?" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrow already knowing the answer.

Rick glared at the other man but didn't offer up any form of reply before he looked back down at you and held his hand out which you took with your right one, still clutching the rag to your bleeding palm in your left.

"C'mon, I'll take you to Denise to get that checked out." Tara said, nodding over her shoulder for you to follow.

You nodded going to follow her before you paused and pulled out the packet of nails from your pocket and held it out to your father who took it with a small grateful nod.

Denise wasn't impressed with your injury to say the least, but you just joked and said it was good stitching practice for her which she also wasn't impressed with. She cleaned the wound though and stitched it together which hurt like a bitch, but you bit your tongue and dealt with it.

Tara sat beside you watching Denise work and before you knew it, your palm was secured in a white bandage, and you were walking out the infirmary.

There was definitely something going on between Tara and Denise, but you kept your mouth shut about it. Frankly, it was none of your business and you figured the women would tell you about it eventually.

"Mama!" Dean shouted, jogging down the street towards you, Ricky right behind him. "Rosita taught us how to fight with knives."

The over excitement and eagerness in your son's tone was pleasing but also concerning. He was still just a kid, and you hated the fact that they needed to learn that kind of stuff.

"Did she? Did you learn how to use them safely?"

They both nodded and pointed to their new knife sheaths attached to their belts with a knife secured inside. Rosita had given them both knives. You made a mental note to thank that woman later because you had been meaning to hunt down extra knives to give to them.

They might still be kids, but they were old enough to know not to be stupid with weapons. You trusted them both to never use them unless absolutely necessary, so you weren't worried about them carrying. It was for their safety.

"She was a good teacher. Taught us the best ways to cut through bone and everything." Ricky grinned, clearly enjoying the lesson as much as his brother did. "But she taught us safety too. We will be careful, won't we?"

Ricky glanced over at Dean who quickly nodded in agreement, and you smiled at your boys before they noticed the bandage around your hand and frowned in sync.

"It's just a little cut. I’m fine." You reassured, knowing one of them was about to ask about it. "C'mon, let's go see if Grandpa needs a hand reinforcing the front wall."

The three of you wandered back down the main street towards the front wall where you could see Rick and Tobin back at work trying to build up a brace before Dean suddenly stopped in his tracks and pointed to something in the sky.

You looked up to where he was pointing and frowned in confusion when you saw the cluster of bright green balloons floating up high in the sky.

Suddenly, it hit you.

That had to have been Glenn.

Only he would have thought to send up a signal like that. Glenn was out there. He was alive.

"Maggie!" You shouted, jogging down the street towards her where she was still standing up on the watch platform.

She glanced over her shoulder towards you, and you pointed up at the balloons for her to see. She quickly followed your line of sight and froze when she saw the balloons.

Rick and Tobin had stopped working on the wall and had walked over to where you and the boys were standing in the middle of the road, staring up at the balloons in shock just as Maggie raced down the watch platform and sprinted over to you.

"That's Glenn!" She exclaimed happily.

You opened your mouth to respond when sudden loud creaking echoed across the community.

You snapped your head away from the balloons and looked towards the unusual noise and your face paled when you saw the tower outside of Alexandria start to fall.

It all happened in slow motion and there was not a single thing you could do about it as you watched the tower collapse down against the front wall, breaking through it completely.

A cloud of dust erupted as the wooden building shattered on impact and as the dust began to settle, the sea of the dead entered Alexandria.

Oh, dear God.

"Everybody, get back! Get into your houses, go!" Rick shouted over his shoulder at anyone within earshot.

You pulled the rifle off your shoulder, relieved that you had stopped by the armoury on your way to the infirmary to get more bullets before you began to shoot at the walkers as they entered the community. However, after the fifth shot, it was clear that it was pointless.

You took one walker down and five more took its place.

There were too many.

Ricky and Dean had followed your lead and were shooting their slingshots at the walkers too, but by the panicked look on their faces, they knew it was a losing battle as well.

The next few minutes went by in a blur.

One minute you were shooting at the walkers and the next you were running for your lives trying to get to shelter away from the herd. The boys were by your side without having to be told and kept up with your pace as you dashed down the street in the direction of your house when suddenly you heard Maggie's voice screaming.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around, the walkers were following you down the street but what caught your attention was Maggie trying to climb up the ladder of the watch platform while walkers grabbed at her shoes, pulling her down.

"Mum, we need to go!" Ricky shouted, drawing his handgun and taking out the walkers that were getting closer.

"I know." You responded, raising your rifle and lining up the walkers below Maggie through the scope.

You managed to take out enough of them for Maggie to get her leg free and she climbed up onto the top of the platform just in time before the ladder broke away, trapping her up there.

She frantically looked over at you, hearing your gunshots that had saved her, but you had no idea how to help her now though because she was stuck up on the platform with the herd of walkers between you.

"Just go! I'm fine up here. Go!" Maggie yelled, waving at you to run.

That was all the encouragement you needed before you turned back and continued running down the street. You slowed your pace slightly, so Ricky and Dean were running in front of you, putting yourself between the walkers behind you and your boys.

"Y/N!" Your fathers voice suddenly shouted.

You spun around to find Rick, Carl, Michonne, Father Gabriel, Deanna and Ron further down the road, but they were becoming surrounded by the walkers.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Boys, shoot!" You yelled, raising your rifle again before you frantically started to shoot at the walkers surrounding your family and friends, clearing a path for them to run out.

"This way! I have Judith!" Jessie shouted, opening the front door of her house and motioning for you all to come.

"Inside, go!" You ordered, pushing your boys in Jessie's direction before you went back to shooting at the walkers near Rick, slowing them down as the others sprinted past you into the house before you hurriedly followed and slammed the door closed behind you.

Deanna was bit.

Judith was screaming in Carls arms.

Sam was playing music from upstairs.

Walkers were banging against the door.

So much was happening, you couldn't focus properly as your mind raced a million miles a minute.

"Boys, help me pull the curtains over the windows." You ordered, pointing at the various windows around the house.

Damnit, why did this stupid house have so many windows?

Ricky and Dean snapped into action and frantically pulled all the curtains shut while you raced around the house and secured all the doors. You locked them all, and pulled pieces of furniture in front of them for extra support because it wouldn’t be hard for a group of walkers to break a wooden door open.

Once you were satisfied that the house was as secured as you could get it, you returned to the main room. Carl had managed to get Judith to stop crying as he rocked her in his arms and Jessie's youngest son, Sam, had turned off his music from upstairs.

"Where's Grandpa?" You asked, looking over at Ricky and Dean who were now sitting on the other couch.

"Kitchen with Jessie." Ricky answered.

You nodded, walking down the hall and into the kitchen but froze when you saw the two of them kissing by the table. They both quickly pulled apart when they heard you enter, Jessie smirking a little while your fathers cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"Y/N, we were-" He started to say before you cut him off.

"None of my business. I was never here." You hurriedly said, turning around and stepping back into the corridor.

Well, you were not expecting that.

You leant against the wall of the corridor waiting for Rick to come back out so you could focus on the actual matter at hand.

Ron walked out the main room and stormed straight past you before disappearing down the corridor with Carl quickly following.

"Judith?" You asked, watching your brother walk away.

"Ricky has her. I mean, Rick." Carl answered, quickly correcting himself with your son’s name.

And wow, after everything that had happened over the last 48 hours, you had completely forgotten that your own son wanted to be referred to as Rick from now on. Had you called him Ricky by accident since? You hoped not.

Suddenly, your father rushed out the kitchen but stopped when he saw you leaning against the wall, clearly waiting for him.

"So, Jessie, huh?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. "You know she isn't that much older than me, right?"

"This conversation can be discussed at a later date, don't you think? Or maybe, never. Yeah, never works." Rick responded causing you to snort softly. "Status of the house?" He asked seriously, a moment later.

"House is secure. Doors are locked and barricaded shut. Windows are covered." You informed and he nodded before glancing over your shoulder towards the main room where Deanna was laying on the couch with Michonne kneeling beside her. "How is she?"

"Fever's settling in. She doesn't have long."

You nodded, "so, what's the plan?"

Rick opened his mouth to respond before loud crashing and banging erupted from a room down the corridor. What the hell?

"Carl and Ron." You whispered in sudden panic.

Ricks eyes widened before he sprinted down the corridor and stopped at the door to the garage where the loud commotion was coming from.

"Carl! Let me in! Carl, open the door!" Rick shouted, banging on the door.

It was no use though because that noise inside sounded like fighting and the door to the garage was locked, but it wasn’t by you. Carl or Ron had locked it from the inside.

"Ron!" Jessie shouted, rushing over to you.

"Back up." Rick ordered, pulling the hatchet from his belt before he slammed the sharp blade down at the lock, snapping it off and the door swung open.

You rushed past Rick into the garage to find Ron on the floor while Carl was using a shelf to hold the walkers back that were trying to push through the glass door that led outside.

"Carl, come on!" You shouted, pointing at the open door.

Your brother glanced over his shoulder at you before looking at Rick in the doorway who was shouting at him to run. Both boys frantically sprinted out the garage and you hurriedly followed as the walkers knocked the shelf down and staggered into the building.

Rick slammed the door shut behind you, but with the lock broken he couldn’t secure it.

You pressed your back against the door and put your foot up on the wall opposite you, using your body weight and strength to keep it shut just as the walkers started to bash against it. Carl and Ron quickly followed your lead, pushing the door shut with their hands.

"The couch. Get the couch to barricade it!" You shouted over your shoulder at Rick who hesitated, not wanting to leave you and the boys alone with the door. "We got this. Go!"

Rick nodded before him and Jessie rushed down the corridor while you, Carl and Ron held the door closed. The growls and snarls of the walkers were loud against the door, and you didn’t even want to think about how many of them were inside the garage right now.

Rick and Jessie returned with Gabriel and Michonne carrying the couch before bracing it up against the door vertically. You quickly shifted off the door and pushed your back against the couch instead, your boot digging into the wall across the hallway to help.

"We need more, and we need to be quiet." Rick ordered, pushing against the couch beside you.

"I'll see what I can find." Michonne said, already disappearing down the hallway.

Gabriel nodded, "me, too."

"I'll help." Carl joined, turning to go with them before Rick spoke up.

"Hey, hey, what happened in there?"

"We were looking for tools and knocked over a shelf."

That was a clear lie and Rick knew it too.

"We heard yelling." Jessie informed, catching onto the obvious lie as well.

"Yeah, Ron saw them break through the gates. We had to move. That's what happened." Carl insisted, sticking with his story.

You glanced over at Carl before looking at Ron, not liking that Carl was trying to cover up the fact that the two of them had been fighting. Why were they even fighting in the first place?

"Carl, there's nightstands in my mum's room. We can brace the couch with them." Ron suddenly said.

"It sounded like you guys were fighting." You pipped up, not liking how Ron tried to quickly change the topic.

"Yeah, but we were fighting them." Carl reassured.

Another lie.

Ron looked between you all but didn't say anything else before he went upstairs to get the nightstands.

"Carl? It's okay?" Rick asked hesitantly.

"It's okay." Carl nodded before he jogged after Ron to help him.

You glanced over at your father who met your gazed with a troubled look, but he kept quiet while the two of you held the couch against the door. The walkers continued to push against it, but the boys returned with the nightstands and with the bookshelf that Michonne and Gabriel dragged across, it was enough to hold the door shut.

The group of you barely had a chance to catch your breath before the barricades you had put up on the front door started to give way. You all tried to save it, but the walkers were now breaking through the windows too, there wasn’t enough of you to hold them back.

"Everybody get upstairs now!" Michonne shouted.

Oh, this wasn't good. This was really not good.

"Get the other couch to block the stairs!" You yelled, dashing over to Judiths crib and picking her up before you ushered your sons up the stairs, hoping that one of the others had grabbed the couch.

"Jessie, where are we going?" You asked, following the woman upstairs.

"My bedroom, it's the biggest." She answered, opening the door to her left and you all hurriedly followed, but Rick and Michonne weren't with you.

"Here." You said, handing your baby sister to the other woman. "I'll be back, you guys stay here."

You were out the bedroom before anyone could say anything and you rushed over to the stairs to find Rick and Michonne pulling a dead walker over the top of the couch that was now blocking the stairs.

"What are you guys doing?" You whispered, not wanting to make any more noise than necessary.

"We’re gonna use it's insides to mask our smell. Then we can get out of here and go to the armoury. We get the flares and use them to draw the herd away from Alexandria." Rick answered, dragging the body up the stairs. "I need you to stay here. You see anyone squeezing through, kill them and you get me."

You nodded, drawing your hunting knife from the sheath on your belt as you stood at the top of the stairs and stared down at the walkers trying and failing to get past the couch.

It wasn't long before everyone was wearing makeshift blanket ponchos covered in walker blood and guts. Jessies sons were both freaking out, Sam more so than Ron and while the other woman was busy reassuring her sons that this was the only option, you were silently proud of your kids who were getting their hands dirty and helping their grandfather cover the blankets in guts.

"You boys good?" Rick asked, glancing between his grandsons once they had their ponchos on.

They were scared. You knew they were, hell, so were you, but they were both putting on a brave face as they nodded.

"This plan will work." You reassured, kneeling down in front of your sons. "Now when we're out there, I want Dean to hold onto my hand and Rick you hold onto your brother's hand and don't let go, okay?”

"What if we get separated?" Ricky asked a little nervously.

"We won't. But if we do, you blend in with the herd of walkers and go towards the front watch platform. Maggie is up on the platform, she will keep you safe until I come find you."

Ricky and Dean both nodded before you looked around at the others who all seemed to be ready to go. Carl had Judith tucked under his poncho securely and you hoped like hell, that she didn’t decide to start crying while you were out there.

"Y/N?" Rick asked, looking over at you with a questioning look.

"We're good, let's go." You nodded.

It was easy enough to slip in amongst the dead. With the grime covered ponchos, you were invisible to the walkers. It was the perfect cover.

Rick led the way out the house and once you were outside amongst the herd, you all linked hands. You ushered your children in front of you and Ricky grabbed hold of his grandfather’s hand with his free one, the other holding Deans.

You squeezed Deans other hand gently for reassurance and glanced over your shoulder to Carl who was close behind you. He was unable to hold your other hand because of Judith under his poncho, but he was holding onto Jessie's hand with his free one and the others were all linked together like planned.

It was slow going through the herd. You had to blend in and weave your way amongst the dead carefully.

The sun was beginning to set along the horizon when Rick managed to lead you all off into a small pocket of the community where the walkers weren't, allowing you all to stop and breathe.

"Alright, new plan." Rick whispered, glancing amongst you all. "Flares from a few guns aren't enough. Too many walkers, too spread out. We're not going to the armoury. We need our vehicles back at the quarry. All of us drive. We'll need to round 'em up. We leave, we come back."

You nodded at the new plan, not bothering with a verbal confirmation as your eyes darted around your surroundings at the nearby walkers who were oblivious to your conversation.

"Okay. But Judith to the quarry and back..." Jessie trailed off, but you all knew what she was thinking.

There was no way that baby would stay that quiet for that long. It was too much of a risk and by the look on your father’s face, he was well aware of that.

"I'll take her." Father Gabriel whispered, speaking up for the first time. "Keep her safe in my church until you all lead the walkers away."

"Can you do this?" You asked sceptically.

"I'm supposed to. I have to." He nodded, looking over at you before focusing back on Rick. "I will."

Rick hesitated for a moment before he nodded in agreement and pulled Carl in closer so he could hand the baby girl over to the priest. You and your sons quickly stepped forward using your bodies as human shields to block Judith from any walkers that happen to look your way while Carl tucked the girl under Gabriel's poncho quietly.

"I'm going to keep her safe." Father Gabriel reassured, looking back at Rick.

Your father nodded, "thank you."

You watched on nervously as Gabriel wandered back amongst the sea of the dead in the direction of his church with your baby sister before the rest of you all linked hands once again and continued through the herd.

Once the sun has disappeared over the horizon, it didn’t take long for it to get dark. The moon was still relatively full providing just enough light for you to see your surroundings.

Out of nowhere, Sam suddenly stopped walking. The kid just stood frozen in the middle of the street with wide tearful eyes frantically moving from one walker to the next.

The boy was about to freak out.

Shit.

This was not good.

Carefully, you shifted around so that you were standing between Sam and your sons, not wanting them near him in case he had a meltdown. Because a meltdown right now would be suicide.

"Sam. Sweetheart? Come on. You can do it." Jessie encouraged, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to pull her son along, but he wouldn't move.

She continued to whisper to him, Ron now helping as well, but then Sam started to cry and within a blink of an eye, a walker bit down on the little boy’s shoulder, another one biting his forehead.

"Mum!" Sam shrieked out in pain, but it was too late.

You stepped in front of your own sons blocking their view from the horror before you, but you couldn’t tear your own eyes away as the walkers teared the little boy apart.

Jessie was crying now, her hand still holding onto her dead son. But her cries were going to draw in more unwanted attention.

"Jessie. Jessie. Come with us." Rick whispered, trying to get her to move. "We have to go."

She wasn't moving though. Her feet were glued to where she stood, her eyes zeroed in on her little boys mangled body and she sobbed quietly.

You opened your mouth to try and say something, but very quickly shut it again when three walkers attacked Jessie right in front of you. The woman let out a pained scream as the walkers practically tackled her to the ground, her pained screams dying out within seconds.

She was dead.

You quickly looked over at your father. His wide eyes were shimmering with unshed tears as he stared down at the walkers on top of Jessie. Whatever the two of them had going on between them was clearly something if Ricks reaction was any indication.

Shit.

Holding your sons behind your back with one hand, you reached over and grabbed your father’s shoulder with the other, forcing him to turn to face you so he wasn't looking at Jessie. Rick's blue panicked eyes locked with yours and you held his gaze.

"We need to go." You whispered, giving him a small encouraging nod and he nodded back ever so slightly.

"Dad." Carl’s voice suddenly grunted in an urgent tone.

You both snapped your heads over to Carl to find him trying to yank his arm free from something. You took a step forward to get a better look and your eyes widened in shock when you realised that Jessie's hand was still grasping Carls tightly and he couldn’t get free.

Oh, no.

Rick reacted quickly and pulled out his hatchet, not thinking twice before he raised the weapon and slammed it down against Jessie's wrist, again, and again until he finally broke through the bone and cut it clean off.

Carl fell backwards once his arm was free, landing on the grass and you carefully stepped over to him. You helped your brother to his feet with your free hand while eyeing the walkers around you cautiously, but most were too distracted by the fresh dead bodies to notice you.

Ricky and Dean were still behind you, Dean's hand grasping yours for dear life and you knew Ricky was holding his brother’s other hand like instructed.

You wanted nothing more than to comfort your children right now because you knew they would be absolutely terrified after what they had just witnessed, but you knew now was not the time.

You glanced back over at your father to make sure that he was okay, but he was just staring at something behind you with a frown like he couldn't quite believe what he was staring at.

Sudden dread filled your stomach as you turned around to find Ron standing a few metres away with a handgun drawn and aimed directly at Carl.

"You." Ron snarled, glaring at Carl. "You."

"Ron, wait-" You began to say, taking a step forward partly in front of Carl and raising your arm towards the teenager about to try talk him down.

Suddenly Michonne speared her sword through Ron's back just as he squeezed the trigger.

Bright hot pain suddenly burst through your left shoulder, and you bit down on your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. You looked down, but you couldn't see anything from the poncho covering your body, but you could feel it.

Ron had shot you in the shoulder.

That little fucker.

"Dad." Carl's voice hesitated from behind you.

You turned around and you felt like you were going to be sick when you saw the bullet wound across your brother’s eye. Deep crimson blood was already dripping down his face and you watched in pure horror as he fell to the ground.

The bullet had gone straight through you and had hit Carl.

Rick rushed over and scooped Carl up in his arms frantically while Michonne began to slice through the walkers that were trying to get to them. Your brain was short circuiting as to what to do as you stared at your brother in your father's arms.

Was he dead? Was your little brother dead?

"Mum, we need to go!" Ricky's voice suddenly said, bringing you out the haze.

Your sons now had their knives out and were helping Michonne fend off the walkers from getting to Rick and Carl.

Seeing your boys killing their first walkers was enough to snap you into action. You drew your own hunting knife with your good arm, not wanting to use your gun and attract more attention than what was already on you.

Everything happened in a blur.

One minute you were fighting off walkers and the next you were rushing through the front door of the infirmary being met with Denise, Aaron and Heath who helped you inside.

You made sure the front door was locked before you grabbed the desk closest and started to drag it across the floor to block it. Ricky and Dean were quick to help, and they pushed the other end of the desk until it was secure in front of the door.

"Thank you. I am so proud of you both." You sighed with relief, glancing between your two sons making sure they were both unharmed before you rushed across the room to where Carl was laying on a hospital gurney.

"Save him." Rick's voice wavered as he stared down at his son’s unconscious body.

"You need to move out the way." Denise said to Rick while she fired off orders to the others in the room to collect equipment and supplies. "Rick."

His entire body was trembling, but he seemed unable to move as he stared down at his son in terror.

You rushed forward and grabbed your fathers arm pulling him away and to your relief, he didn’t try and fight you, but he kept his eyes glued to Carl.

"Dad. Dad, look at me." You ordered, lifting your good arm and grabbing his chin, turning his head to face you until his tear-filled eyes met yours. "Carl is going to be fine. He's strong. We will save him, but you need to give us space to work."

"O-Okay." He whispered, taking a small staggering step back.

You threw your poncho off your body, hissing at the burning pain radiating through your shoulder at the sudden movement. You spared a quick glance down at your shoulder to find your shirt stained bright red from the shoulder and all the way down your side.

Yeah, that wasn't good.

Carl was the priority right now though. Your shoulder could wait. You had to help save your brother.

"Denise, what can I do?" You asked, walking over to Carl on the gurney.

"Here. Hold this." She instructed, motioning towards the towel she had pressed against Carl’s eye. "We need to keep pressure on the wound. I'll go in and sew up any lacerations. I'm going to clean and close this, so I need you to keep following me with the towel."

"Got it." You nodded, pressing your hand down on the towel while she got her tools ready.

You watched intently as Denise got to work. Michonne held a lamp down, angling it just right and you watched as the flow of blood slowly reduced after each suture Denise did.

It was working.

"Grandpa, what are you doing?"

"Grandpa?"

You glanced over your shoulder to find Rick pulling the desk away from the front door while your boys stood back and watched on in a mixture of confusion and worry.

"Dad, what are you- No!" You shouted when he reached for the door handle and yanked the door open. "Dad, don't!"

The front door slammed closed behind him a second later and you stood there with your mouth hanging open in shock.

What the fuck was he doing?

"Rick's out there. I need to help." Michonne frantically said.

"Hold on. Just one more suture." Denise muttered, concentrating on her work.

"But he's out there. He needs our help."

"This is his son. Give me a second." Denise instructed.

You glanced back over your shoulder at the front door anxiously before focusing back down to Carl.

"He's taking them all on." Aaron informed from where he was looking through the window.

"Damnit." You swore under your breath before you grabbed the lantern from Michonne. "Go help my dad. Go!"

Michonne nodded, not needing to be told twice before she sprinted out the infirmary with her katana in her hand, Aaron, Heath and Spencer right behind her.

You held the lantern with your injured arm while holding the towel with the other as you watched Denise work carefully. Her fingers were trembling a little, but she kept her head down and focused on the task at hand.

"Okay. That's it. I need bandages and that IV drip Aaron set up." She ordered.

You were about to let go of the lantern to collect the supplies before Ricky and Dean suddenly rushed across the room with said supplies already in their hands.

"Bandages." Dean said, holding them to Denise.

She smiled at the boys and took the bandages from Dean before she glanced up at you.

"Do you know how to start an IV?"

That was probably the one thing you were actually good at. The number of times you helped the doctors in the nursing home set up IV drips was too many to count.

"Yeah."

You rolled up Carl’s sleeve before grabbing the IV bag from Ricky and within a minute, you had the IV needle in and held the bag up high to allow gravity to do its job. Denise finished with the bandage that was now wrapped around Carl's head before she took the bag from you.

"I got it from here. Go help your dad." She instructed before her eyes widened only just noticing the blood on your shoulder. "Wait, are you shot too?"

"What?!" Ricky questioned in panic, his eyes following Denises and widened into saucers when he saw it.

"It's just a graze. I'm fine." You lied.

"Y/N-" Denise started to say, but you cut her off.

"You can patch me up after. Right now, I have to help the others. Boys you stay here with Denise-"

"No. We can help." Dean argued.

Ricky nodded, "we can kill walkers. We know how."

You wanted to point out that they had only just killed their first walkers in the last 20 minutes, but you kept your mouth shut as you looked between you sons, unsure of what to do.

"Please, mama." Dean begged, his big hazel eyes looking up at you.

"We will stick by your side and help fight. We can do it." Ricky insisted.

Reluctantly, you nodded, and your boys went to reach for their knives before you stopped them.

"No. Use slingshots. You still got rocks in your pockets for ammo?" You asked and they both nodded. "Good. Use the slingshots. You kill the walkers from a distance and only stab them with your knives if they get too close. Understand?"

"Yes." They both agreed, pulling out their slingshots from their back pockets.

With that, the three of you ran out the front door, but you paused for a split second when you saw what was happening.

The whole community was fighting together.

Everyone.

Alexandrian civilians that you had never seen pick up a knife before were out there with Rick and the others taking down the walkers as a team, and it was working.

You and the boys were quick to join in, taking down the walkers with your knife while the kids used their slingshots, shooting rocks through the walker’s heads like knives through butter.

"Is that a truck?!" Dean shouted above the growls of walkers.

You spared a quick glance in the direction he had pointed to find what looked to be a fuel truck parked near the water pond in the middle of the community.

Where the hell did that truck come from?

Suddenly a figure stepped up onto the roof of the truck and there was no mistaking that angel winged vest from anywhere.

It was Daryl.

He was holding a large weapon that looked awfully like a bazooka and aimed at the water before he squeezed the trigger.

Oh, it was definitely a bazooka.

The entire pond blew up in flames a second later and it wasn't hard to put two and two together to figure out that the fuel from the truck had been dumped into the water making the whole thing highly flammable.

The walkers around you were instantly drawn towards it like moths to a flame.

"That's fucking genius." Ricky muttered in awe.

You wanted to tell him off for the language, but instead you let that F bomb slide because he was right, that was fucking genius.

You continued to take down the walkers nearby, but within a few minutes, the whole herd were staggering to the fire, killing themselves.

You let out a sigh of relief as the adrenaline soaring through your veins began to subside now that the threat was gone. Without the adrenaline though, you could really start to feel the pain in your shoulder from the gunshot.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

Your head started to feel a little fuzzy as you blinked a few times trying to snap yourself out of it.

"Uncle Merle!" Dean suddenly called out, and you spun around to find the eldest Dixon running down the street while slicing the heads off any remaining walkers with his arm knife.

"Look at you boys! I knew those slingshots were a good idea." Merle grinned jogging over to the three of you as he stared at his nephews proudly before he glanced over at you. "What the fuck happened here?"

"It's a long story." You sighed, sheathing your knife with trembling fingers.

"Wait, are you shot?" Merle questioned, looking down at your bloodied shoulder.

"It's fine. Just a graze." You reassured, but as you went to take a step forward, the world around you suddenly tilted and if it wasn't for Merle quickly grabbing your arm, you would have been on the ground.

"Just a graze, my ass." Merle grunted in pretend annoyance, but you could hear the concern in his voice.

Ricky and Dean suddenly grabbed your sides to help steady you while Merle kept his grip firm on your arm which was probably for the best, because you were really starting to feel lightheaded now.

Maybe you had lost a little more blood than you thought.

"Y/N?" Daryl's voice suddenly shouted.

You looked over Merle's shoulder to find your husband rushing across Alexandria towards you after noticing the commotion.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." You insisted, although you were starting to doubt that.

A second later, Daryl was in front of you beside Merle, his bright panicked blue eyes looking you up and down before pausing on your injured shoulder. He quickly pulled out his rag from his back pocket and pressed it against the wound causing you to hiss in pain.

"Shit, sweetheart. The hell happened?" Daryl questioned, keeping pressure on the wound as he looked down at the boys either side of you.

"Mum got shot." Dean supplied, like that part wasn’t already obvious.

"It's a long story." You answered, blinking the blurriness from your eyes. "What happened to you?"

"Longer story."

"Denise can help mum. She's in the infirmary with Carl." Ricky informed, pointing back to the building behind you.

"Carl? Why is Carl- ain't important." Daryl shook his head before focusing back on you. "Can ya walk?"

Probably not.

"Yeah." You said instead because you were a Grimes and a Dixon, and you were stupidly stubborn.

Merle raised his eyebrows at you knowing that was a total lie before he let go of your arm and took a step back with a look that said, prove it.

Daryl hovered beside you anxiously, also coming to the same realisation that you were probably lying which was a good thing because you barely made it a few feet before your weak legs buckled out from underneath you.

Daryl rushed forward and caught you just in time before he lifted your good arm over his shoulder and helped you the rest of the way to the infirmary while Merle trailed behind with the boys, reassuring his nephews that you were going to be okay.

"Don't you pass out on me, sweetheart." Daryl muttered under his breath.

"I thought you were dead." You whispered, dropping your head down against his shoulder. "I thought- I thought..."

"Shhh. Save your strength."

You nodded against his shoulder ever so slightly before your eyes began to drift shut and the last thing you heard was Daryl shouting your name before everything faded into darkness.

You awoke sometime later to a dull ache in your shoulder.

"Ouch." You mumbled, blinking your eyes open to find Denise leaning over you.

She was securing your arm in a sling which had you frowning in confusion because what did you need a sling for?

Oh, right, the gunshot.

"That's what you get for hiding your injury." Denise replied, standing back up as she looked down at you with her hands on her hips. "You better heal quickly because you're kinda the only other person in Alexandria with medical training. I need you."

You smiled weakly, "thanks."

Denise smiled back, "I'll let Daryl know you're awake."

She walked out the room a moment later and you glanced around realising that you were in the back room of the infirmary. You still felt a little lightheaded, the impact of blood loss still affecting you as you glanced down at your shoulder to find it heavily bandaged beneath the sling.

"Don't ever do that again." Daryl's voice suddenly said.

You looked up to find him leaning in the doorway, biting at his thumb nail as he stared at you worriedly.

"I'm fine." You insisted.

"Ya nearly died from blood loss. That ain't fine." Daryl muttered, pushing himself off the doorframe before he walked over to your bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "How are you feelin'?"

"Good. All things considered." You answered honestly before a thought suddenly hit you like a truck. "Carl, is he-"

"Denise said that he'll be okay."

Instant relief washed over you at those words. Your brother was alive. He was going to be okay.

Thank goodness.

"Where are the boys?"

"With Merle and Abe. They're worried 'bout ya. But they're fine." Daryl reassured, reaching for your free hand before lacing his fingers together with yours. "I thought I was gonna lose ya, sweetheart."

"I'm still here." You whispered, squeezing his hand gently. "I thought I had already lost you."

“Nearly did a few times out there to be honest."

Your head snapped up, “what-"

"I'll tell ya later. It ain't important right now." He briefly explained and you nodded. "The boys told me what happened. All of it."

You thought back to everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. The attackers invading Alexandria. The tower collapsing. Jessie and Sam getting torn apart right in front of you, Carl getting shot... all of it.

"Are you okay?" Daryl asked gently, and you knew he wasn't talking about the gunshot wound.

"It could've been one of our boys that died. Sam was about their age, it could've been them." You whispered, hating the fact that you could feel tears stinging your eyes.

"But it wasn't." Daryl reminded, squeezing your hand gently. "We taught our sons how to protect themselves. We taught 'em how to be brave 'n now look at 'em. They were helping defend this town and kill walkers."

You smiled softly, "when did they grow up?"

Daryl suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle of what looked to be old polaroid photos. Why did he have random polaroids?

"Here." He fanned out the photos before turning them around for you to see.

They weren’t just random polaroid photos, they were your polaroid photos.

"How... when... what..." You trailed off unable to form a single coherent sentence as you stared at the family photos in utter shock.

"Merle 'n I did a trip a while back. Went to the old house, it had been scavenged pretty hard, but managed to find these." Daryl explained, like it wasn’t a big deal. "Was gonna save 'em for your birthday as a surprise but figured you could use the pick-me-up now."

The photos were mostly of the boys from when they were younger, even a few baby photos too. There were some of Daryl and Merle with the kids and a few of them separately. A couple were family photos that Merle had taken of the four of you. They were a little blurry because he was a terrible photographer, but they still looked decent.

There was even an older polaroid of Rick and Shane in their Deputy uniforms. You had forgotten you kept that photo all those years ago.

"This my favourite." Daryl said, holding up the photo of Merle and Ricky who were both flipping off the camera.

You chuckled remembering that day like it was yesterday.

"I can't believe you grabbed these." You whispered, silent tears falling down your cheeks as you stared at the family photos. "Thank you."

Daryl smiled, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Hope I'm not interrupting." Your fathers voice suddenly said.

You looked up to find Rick hovering in the doorway with Judith in his arms.

Judith!

Thank goodness she was okay. How could you even have forgotten about her?

"I should go check on the boys anyway. I'll give you two a minute." Daryl said, leaving the family photos in your lap before he stood up and began to walk out the room.

Rick patted Daryl's shoulder as he walked past before your father entered the room and sat down on the chair beside your bed. His eyes flashed down to the family photos, and he smiled softly at them.

"Carl's gonna be okay. Thanks to you."

You looked away from the photos and stared at your father in confusion.

"Denise said that if you didn't slow the bullet down, Carl might not be here."

Oh.

"Glad I didn't get shot for nothing then." You responded, trying to make light of the situation, but by the glare your father sent you, it clearly didn't work.

"Why didn't you tell me that the bullet hit you too?" He asked, glancing down at your bandaged up shoulder. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"You had bigger things to worry about, dad. Carl was the priority."

Rick sighed, "you still should have told me."

"You were freaking out over Carl. I didn't want to give you something else to freak out about." You admitted, thinking back to the aftermath of the gunshot.

"So, passing out from blood loss was your plan to stop me from freaking out?"

"Surprisingly that was not part of the plan. No."

Judith giggled happily at your words despite not understanding a single thing, but it caused your father to snort in amusement which you were going to call a small victory.

Rick glanced down at his youngest daughter in his lap before looking back at you, his eldest.

He opened his mouth to say something but didn't get the chance before Merle suddenly walked through the door, a flash of relief washing over him when he noticed that you were up.

"Ricky, Dean, come here! Your mother is awake." Merle called out.

"It's Rick." Ricky voice corrected from outside the room.

Merle looked back out the door, "but Dean just called you Ricky like 30 seconds ago."

"Only he gets to call me that." Ricky stated, walking through the door with Dean before they both rushed over to your bedside. "Uncle Merle is being annoying." Your eldest grumbled.

"Uncle Merle is always annoying." You pointed out, glancing between your sons before looking over at your brother-in-law who was standing in the doorway.

Merle rolled his eyes, "glad you're awake, Y/N."

"Thanks, Dixon." You smiled before he walked out the room and you turned your attention back to your sons.

"You're okay?" Dean asked, eyeing the sling sceptically.

"Totally okay." You reassured just as Daryl walked back into the room and wandered over to your bedside, ruffling Ricky and Deans hair.

"Boys, come look at these photos." Daryl said, picking up the polaroids from your bed and handing them to the kids while steering them across the room to give you and Rick some privacy.

You sent Daryl a grateful smile and he gave you a small nod before you glanced back at your father to find him watching Daryl and the boys with a warm smile spreading across his face.

Neither of you said anything for a few minutes while you watched your husband and sons across the room before Rick let out a deep exhale and turned his attention back to you.

"What is it?" You asked, knowing that he had wanted to say something earlier before getting interrupted.

"I'm proud of you, Y/N."

You blinked in surprise thinking that you must have heard him wrong.

"What?" You asked dumbly.

"I'm proud of you." He repeated, smiling softly as he stared at you before nodding back towards Daryl and the kids. "You used to be their age. You used to be my baby girl, and now you're this strong, beautiful young woman who has her own family. You kept them alive through all of this. You kept me alive too, not just today, but on many occasions. And I'm proud of you."

Hearing those four little words from your father was something that you hadn't realised you needed until now.

"I'll always be your baby girl. Well, I got some competition now." You fought back tears and smiled looking down at Judith in your father’s lap.

"Grandpa, come look at these photos! There's one of me with my first rabbit." Ricky suddenly called out.

Rick chuckled softly, wiping his own tears from his eyes before he leant forward and placed a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

"Bring the photos over here. Let's look at them together with your mother." Rick instructed and a second later, the boys were jumping on top of your bed before laying out the Polaroids over your blanket to show Rick.

Daryl smiled gently, watching them as he sat down on the side of your bed and wrapped his arm around your good shoulder, pulling you into his side.

"Everything okay?" He whispered, noticing the tears in your eyes.

You nodded, wiping them away as you watched your family in front of you happily.

"Everything is perfect."

PART 6

MASTERLIST pinned to profile.

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries.

A/N: Sorry this new part was a little delayed, but I hope you all enjoyed it.

More parts might be added in the future, but until then stay safe everyone and have a great day ❤️

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd #norman reedus #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #rick grimes #commissions #fanfiction commissions #writing commissions #fanfiction

163 notes · View notes

uniquexusposts · 21 days

Text

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff Story type: novel Part: 12/? Word count: 3726 Co writer: @mistrose23

Summary: This was Matilde Jørgensen, the newly appointed team principal of Scuderia Ferrari, about to face one of the most nerve-wracking challenges of her life. She tried to save the team from more disappointing results and put everything on the line to make them world champion again. There will be a big challenge to lead a historic team as 'newbie' and keeping her work and personal opinions apart from each other. The big question everybody will be asking: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 10. Unaware

"Hey," Matilde said when she entered the room next to her office. Galileo was already working behind his desk. "Do you have a minute so that we can talk?"

The young Italian nodded, knowing what this was about. "Of course."

"Do you want something to drink? I'm getting a cappuccino."

Galileo raised his eyebrows and really wanted to say something, but he thought it was best to keep his mouth shut. "No, thank you."

Matilde had to do her best to hide her grin. It was 14:00, and technically, according to the Italians, it was too late to drink a cappuccino. But she didn't care. People in this office didn't care about her, so why should she care? "Okay. I'll be back in... five?"

"Yes, absolutely."

The Dane walked to the coffee corner on the same floor and asked the barista for a cappuccino. Again, she received the side eye, but Matilde only smiled, causing the barista to make the cappuccino anyway.

A few minutes later, Matilde entered her office and called Galileo in. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he nodded as he sat across from her. "How about you?"

Matilde pressed the corners of her mouth down, acting casual. "Fine, fine," she mumbled. "I will go straight to the point because, apparently, I have a board meeting now." She noticed the stress on Galileo's face when she said it. "How come I was unaware of the inauguration ceremony this morning?" Matilde asked and looked at Galileo. 'And the board meeting?'

The young assistant parted his lips and looked at his boss. His heartbeat became fast; he forgot to inform her about the inauguration ceremony and the board meeting. "I... I forgot, I think."

She nodded. "Thank you for being honest with me, Galileo," she said. "Look, I would be lying if I said it is okay and can happen. I need to know when these things happen, these events are very important for me, the team and for the representation of this team. You are here to support me, manage my appointments and to make sure I am aware of it." Matilde shared a warm smile, she could see how sorry he was. "For now, it happened, and there's nothing we can do about it anymore. But for the next time, double-check everything, okay?"

"I will. I am sorry," the young Italian said.

"Thank you."

Galileo got up and was about to leave the office.

"These things happen, but make sure you learn from them. Without making mistakes, you won't learn properly," she reminded him before he left.

Once he left the room, her smile dropped, and she turned around in her chair, facing the wall behind her desk. She blinked a couple of times and yawned. Being a team principal was literally being a teacher to toddlers. Matilde took a deep breath and got up, taking her laptop, notebook and coffee with her. She made her way to the meeting room, ready to be attacked and to defend herself in front of the most influential people of Ferrari.

"Hello," she said when entering the room, leaving the door open.

The big people looked already annoyed, a great start. She showed no fear and made her way to the only available seat.

"We've been waiting for you for over fifteen minutes," a woman said.

Matilde didn't remember her name, only that she looked like Donatella Versace. Matilde glanced at her, ready to say something, but she got interrupted by a knock on the door. She looked at the person, it was Mario. "Mario," Matilde smiled.

"Sorry to interrupt. Can I ask you a question?" Mario said.

"Of course. What is it?" She nodded and opened her laptop.

Sighs filled the room, causing Mario to look uncomfortable. Glances were shared; why did Mario interrupt? But a more important question was: why did someone from the night shift ask for her?

"The order that is missing, do we have an update on it yet?" Mario asked, hoping the order had arrived.

Matilde blew up her cheeks. "I have not seen a note yet, so I don't think so. I will follow it up after this meeting, you will hear from me."

The night shift manager and the team principal looked at each other; both wondering why they were present at the office. Mario squeezed his eyebrows together. "I thought you were supposed to be here at..." Mario pulled up the sleeve of his watch. "Six o'clock?"

"Well," she countered. "And what are you doing here then?" A cheeky smile came on her face.

"Mhm-mhm," Mario chuckled. "I will hear from you," he winked and walked away.

It was silent in the room again. Matilde looked around, raising her eyebrows, waiting for the meeting to start.

"What was that all about?" the same woman as earlier asked.

"If you work a shift, you are not allowed to start your next shift eleven hours after your previous shift ended. And since the night shift ended eight hours ago, we are legally forbidden to be here and work until six this afternoon," Matilde explained, reminding the board about the rules.

No one reacted to the comment. Instead, Simone started the meeting with a small introduction of why the board came together. "Firstly, do you have a reason why you were late to this board meeting, Matilde?"

Matilde looked up from her laptop and blinked a couple of times, taking a sip of her coffee. "Legally, I am not supposed to be here. My shift ended eight hours ago, which I explained a few seconds ago. I am making an exception to be here," she mentioned. "So the reason why I am late: I am still off duty."

No one seemed to find a suitable answer to her reply. Again, they were sharing looks with each other, trying to understand why she took a night shift.

"For clarification: I am taking night shifts every other week?" Matilde looked around, she thought people were aware about that. She always wrote it down in her work agenda and everyone has access to her agenda.

"Noted," Simone said and he looked at his notes. "So the reason why you were late at the inauguration ceremony is also because of the break-rule. But may I ask why you're here? You are legally not allowed to be here for four more hours, as you said so yourself."

"Exactly." Even though that wasn't the exact reason why she was late at the ceremony, she thought that was an excellent reason for this board. Galileo made a mistake, but that was something between them, and Matilde wanted to protect him from the board. "And the reason why I'm here is because I was bored at home. And I'm the team principal, I always have work to do."

The woman who spoke to her at the beginning, took over. Wasn't her name Antonia? A sly smirk appeared on her face, she was ready to attack the young team principal. "We received a message from PR about the celebrations in Miami."

Oh, here we go, Matilde thought. How did PR know about this? Who talked? Matilde nodded, accepting that she had to explain her side of the incident.

"We understand that you are delighted to celebrate your first win - as you should, but we received videos of you partying with Max Verstappen and some employees of Red Bull Racing. You have to understand that that is not great for your image."

Matilde straightened her face. This was about Max and Red Bull? She looked around, everyone looked sternly at her, like she had damaged their reputation. "Well, yes-"

"We understand you have your friends at your former team, but you cannot be seen like this." The tone of Antonia was unrelenting.

Matilde was prepared to defend herself and maintain her professionalism, but the weight of their expectations was palpable. She took a moment to generate her response. Of course, she knew the delicate balance she had to follow between maintaining relationships in the paddock and upholding Ferrari's image.

"Matilde, do you think that action was appropriate?" Simone could see Matilde was thinking about a response, but he wanted her to be faster. He was taking notes, looked up and waited for a further response. "It could be perceived as celebrating with a competitor, a rival."

"I appreciate your concern," Matilde began, her voice steady. "And I acknowledge that appearances matter. However-" Before she could elaborate further on her intentions, someone else cut in.

"Our image is important. We cannot afford to have our team principal's actions misinterpreted, especially with a rival team." The voice of the man was sharp, but impatient.

The frustration in Matilde's veins simmered just below the surface. But she maintained her composure. "As I was trying to say, we must also consider the context. I was not celebrating with Max and Red Bull Ra-"

"You have to understand that it's not just about the context."

This meeting was about interrogating Matilde, to share their criticisms without allowing her to respond fully and to defend herself. Matilde had expected a severe meeting about the team's performances, not this relentless lecture that made her feel increasingly unheard and undermined.

Matilde clenched her jaw and she took a deep breath, now her irritation began to bubble up. She didn't get the chance to explain herself, as they only seemed to be interested in one side of the story. She refused to back down on her story. "I understand the importance of our image-" she repeated, her voice tight.

But yet again, she was cut off by Simone, who seemed to have a lot of fun by irritating her. "Our team's reputation is at stake here. You may see it as a small gesture, but the public won't always perceive it that way," Simone looked at Antonia. "Antonia, you have set up a statement. Matilde, we want you to publish a statement for this incident."

Matilde squeezed her eyebrows together, and she looked around as if she was the main character of The Office. "Excuse me? Why?" Her tone was openly irritated now. "I acknowledge the importance of the team's image, but let's not lose sight of the bigger picture here. This obsession with a harmless moment is counterproductive."

"Matilde, the perception of our team matters. We need to control the narrative. A statement will help manage this situation," Antonia said.

Matilde almost groaned in frustration. They weren't listening to her, it was like they were fixated on the statement and not the reason behind it. "I understand your point, but let's not forget the context. I believe we are blowing this out of proportion. If I just may-" Her patience was wearing thin.

"You have to-"

"If you could, please let me finish," she repeated, raising her voice a little bit, demanding to have the word. "The reason why I was standing next to Max and Red Bull was because I was not invited to our own team's celebration dinner," she explained.

The board members exchanged glances, and Simone leaned back in his chair, a look of incredulity on his face. "So you decide to celebrate your win with our rival?" He repeated, as though the idea was utterly preposterous.

Matilde blinked a couple of times, looking unheard. Did they just not hear what she said? "In other words, yes," she responded. "Because I was not invited to the team's celebration dinner. And I want to clarify this: Max Verstappen is my friend, Red Bull is filled with my friends-"

"We need to address this issue promptly and professionally," Antonia chimed in, her tone critical. "Drafting a statement is the right course of action."

Matilde's frustration had reached its peak. She couldn't believe how obstinate the board was being, seemingly ignoring her explanations. Their need to release a statement was maddening. "Are you even listening to me? Why do I need to justify myself for the fact that I, the team principal, was not invited to the team's celebration dinner? It makes more sense for you to justify this situation." She felt so extremely selfish to say that she wasn't invited and that she had to be invited. Perhaps everyone disliked her and it was their plan not to invite her, and perhaps it was her expectation she had to be invited. Perhaps she was the issue.

"You are the team principal, you are a model to not only your team, but to the entire field and fanbase," Simone emotionlessly replied.

"Fine, but then make sure Leclerc is not allowed to talk to Gasly outside of work anymore, or meet with him outside of the track. And ban Sainz from golfing with Norris," Matilde shot back.

While the board was discussing the situation, the entire floor could hear their debate. Even though there was a lot of work to do, the entire floor of employees were more interested in the conversation. People gathered around, close enough to the meeting room to hear everything, but not to be seen by the board members. It had been the first time they heard Matilde speaking up like this. People doubted if she ever could get angry, but after this weekend and this discussion, they figured out Matilde could get angry very badly.

Charles and Carlos were sitting at a desk, in the engineers room, discussing some points for the sim later this afternoon. They could hear the discussion very well. Even they stopped working to follow the discussion.

"She's feisty," Charles said perplexedly. "Oh, my gosh." He covered his mouth with his hand.

"After Sunday, I didn't think she could surprise me anymore, but I didn't expect this," an engineer mentioned.

Carlos' mouth hung open, focussing on the conversation. "We have to say something, this is something between her and the board, not us."

"No, no, don't," Charles replied, raising his arm.

"But this is unacceptable. You're nosy."

"It is their problem, not ours. They shouldn't have left the door wide open," Charles shrugged. Carlos got up. "Don't," Charles said disappointingly.

Carlos shook his head, left the engineer's room and walked through the hallway. He noticed how the entire floor was standing close to the meeting room. It was serious, very serious. Charles joined him on the walk, he couldn't resist the urge to get closer to the commotion. They squeezed between the people, careful not to obstruct anyone's view.

"I can't believe they're making such a fuss about this," Charles muttered under his breath.

Carlos looked behind him, not realising Charles had followed him. He nodded in agreement. "It's absurd. They're treating her like she committed a crime." He stepped to the room, everybody collectively holding their breath. When he stood in front of the room, Matilde was in the middle of her sentence.

"I still cannot figure out how me, having a night out with my friends, bothers you the most out of that evening?" Matilde asked.

To Carlos' surprise, Matilde was still looking and speaking professionally. He knocked on the door, alerting them to his presence. "Hey, I am..." He pointed at the door.

She looked at him and held up her hand. "You can leave the door open, Carlos," she said before continuing on the same tone with the rest of her words. "Do you know what bothers me the most? Besides the board not understanding this situation, the fact that the entire team, not just a few people, but everyone, went out for dinner to celebrate the win and they did not even bother to ask me to join them on purpose."

Carlos stood speechlessly in front of the meeting room. He looked to his right, to his team, with rounded eyes. He walked back to his team. "This is serious shit," he said.

"I will not publish a statement," Matilde finished her story. "I think it will be time for us to hire an external coach or a psychologist. The way of communication has to change internally and as quickly as possible. Especially the communication between employees. That is the main issue in this team. This meeting is over. If there are any questions, don't hesitate to contact my assistant. Good afternoon, everyone."

The people in the hallway didn't know how fast they had to return to their desks. They had to pretend they hadn't been listening. Carlos ran after Charles back to the engineer's room. They jumped down on their seats. A second later, Matilde passed them. Silence fell on the entire floor and they all looked at Matilde; she showed no emotion.

"Holy shit..." Charles whispered. "That was something else," he remarked.

Carlos nodded, still impressed by Matilde's determination. His respect for her grew. "She's not one to back down, that's for sure."

The entire floor has just witnessed their 'puppy' team principal push back against the board with an intensity that was rarely seen. The engineers were buzzing with discussions about what had just transpired. It was clear that Matilde's impassioned defence had made an impact on everyone who had heard it. The board, too, was left with much to consider after her strong words. Her speech had ignited a new level of respect among the team, who now saw her in a different light. Her actions had solidified her position not just as a team principal, but as a leader who wasn't afraid to fight for the people, even against the most powerful figures within Ferrari.

Charles got up from his chair and made his way to Matilde's office. He ignored Galileo, who told him not to enter the office. After knocking, Charles swung open the door; Matilde was standing in front of the window, arms crossed, looking outside, her posture reflecting frustration and exhaustion.

"Hey..." he gently spoke.

Matilde looked over her shoulder. Once their gaze met, she showed just a smile - a smile without emotion or meaning. "Hello," she replied.

"Would you like to grab a coffee?" He pointed behind him. "There's a new coffee stand on the campus."

She considered Charles' offer for a moment. The tension from the board meeting still lingered, just like the unaware ceremony and incident from Sunday. However, she knew a short break and some fresh air would do her good. She stared at her watch and she nodded, she had some time left before her next meeting. "Yeah, sure," she replied, her smile now carrying a bit more warmth.

Charles hoped that this coffee break would provide her some rest and reset. Matilde grabbed her pass and sunglasses before they left her office. In silence they walked over the campus. Charles didn't feel the need to say anything, he wanted to make sure that Matilde could empty her mind.

As they approached the stand, Matilde scanned the new stand. She hadn't seen it before, but it looked cute. It was quite a minimalist stand, it was a stand that could go viral on Instagram for the aesthetic. Matilde was surprised to see that they served iced coffee, so she ordered that. Charles ordered a simple espresso.

"Thanks," Matilde broke the silence. They had their coffee and sat down on a small wall next to the stand. Charles looked at her, sharing a questionable look. "For... You know, this."

"Of course." He offered a supportive smile. "A small break can do miracles."

"I..." She took a deep breath. "I really appreciate it."

"Anytime." Charles looked in front of him. "And about Sunday... I didn't know what was happening. I assumed you were at the dinner, but somewhere...I don't know, somewhere where we couldn't see you."

"It's okay. It happened."

"It's not okay and it wasn't classy from our side."

"It is what it is, Charles. I hope it was miscommunication and I hope we all learn from it," she responded. Momentarily, Matilde didn't like the team, but she couldn't show it. She had to deal and work with it. "And I didn't celebrate the win with Max. People told me there wouldn't be a party because of the early flight the next day, so I wanted to get a drink at the hotel. I bumped into Gemma, my best friend. She works as a PR manager for Red Bull, and she dragged me to the restaurant. If I knew about your dinner, I obviously wouldn't have done it."

He pressed his lips into a thin line and he looked at her, it looked like she regretted everything.

"I have my friends at Red Bull. Max and I joined Red Bull at the same time, we 'grew up' together, I met my friend group there. And everyone assumes I moved to Ferrari to spy for Christian. When we see each other, we briefly talk about F1, we mostly talk about bullshit and ourselves, not about our work. I signed a million documents, they signed a million documents, why do people assume we share the team's deepest secrets?"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Matilde. I understand you." Charles knew it was better if she could just rant, let it all out, he wanted to let her know that it was safe to rant with him.

"And this morning, I got here and it was basically the same thing all over again. The ceremony thing and the board meeting I wasn't told about." Her voice cracked and she let out a loud sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," Charles replied and put his espresso next to him on the wall. He wrapped his arm around her and rubbed her arm.

Matilde leaned into the comforting gesture. Fortunately, she was wearing sunglasses. "I just want to do what's best for the team. I do what I think is the best," she admitted, her voice filled with raw emotion. "And I know this role isn't for softies, but there's just so much friction."

"Ferrari is a tough team to work with. I can't approve of what happened this week, but it's been a stressful time," he shared.

She straightened her back and dried her eyes. "Thanks." Matilde looked at him. They held each other's gaze for a few seconds. Charles shared a warm smile, Matilde couldn't help, but smile because of his smile. "God, this isn't professional. I am sorry."

Charles chuckled. "Team principal or not, you have feelings and sometimes you have to let them out. This stays between us, alright?"

"Thank you." She got up and looked around. "Let's get back to work. I have a feeling there are more wins in store for us."

Next chapter

36 notes · View notes

protectoratenova07 · 2 months

Text

Coil has three main flaws that lead him to his death despite the amount of resources he has to call on. Possessiveness, cruelty, and pride.

Taylor picks up his possessiveness over Dinah quickly enough in Arc 7. She knows that he’d never give her up if he could. She also knows from her meeting with him in Arc 6 that he is a very prideful man. If he takes over a city, he wants it to be run well. If he gets what he wants, he’ll ensure his subordinates get what they want because what’s the point of being king if he can’t provide. She takes him up on his offer of anything that she wants, asking for Dinah’s freedom should she prove more useful to his take over the city plot in Arc 10. She then reaffirms this request as a promise, in Arc 16 when Dragon shows up, in front of all his subordinates. The other Undersiders, the mercs, and the Travelers all hear it so that Coil can’t back down or else he’d lose out the worth of his word, which everyone else is banking on to get what they want.

And Taylor and Lisa know this. They know that they have to plan around either flaw of Coil’s to achieve a victory. If it’s his possessiveness, then they go with Lisa’s plan. Gather enough money, make Coil spend enough of his, so that only she can pay off his mercs and then bring Dinah home after the take over. If it’s his pride, then they go with Taylor’s plan. Get Coil what he wants, the city, and in return Dinah gets to go home.

But Coil also knows this. He reveals to them that he knows in Arc 15, showing that he can trick Tattletale’s power. He didn’t have to, but he wanted a bit of fun. A challenge against Tattletale to show that he’s better. The same as when he words his recruitment of Lisa as a choice. The same as when he guns down his assistant in his interlude because it’ll bring him some enjoyment. His cruelty.

This is where he really fails. We find out in Arc 16 that Coil tries to kill Skitter about twelve times with a teleport trap, but because he’s using Leet as the tinker it consistently messes up if the trap is too lethal. He can’t keep trying either because he’s on the clock to fulfill the promise he made to Skitter. Coil wants Skitter dead. He needs her dead. But she won’t die. Time after time after time. It isn’t even the first time he tried to kill her but it is the time he needs it to work.

He’s got an injured pride, is what I’m saying. If you ever played any video games, imagine trying to fight this one enemy who’s not even a boss, but no matter what you can’t manage to kill them because of some busted game mechanic and you’re also trying to beat the game under a mandatory time limit.

That’d piss you off, right? To the point where you might take a more enjoyable route, just to finally get rid of this thing that has been bugging you right before the moment you beat the game.

Coil has a double body of Skitter. He already planned for her to attack the Undersiders and teleport out with Dinah. Make them think she went rouge. But isn’t it better if, instead of trying so hard to kill Skitter himself in that burning building, he just focuses on weakening her to the point where when she meets up with her beloved, valued teammates, that they'll do the job for him? Won’t that be far grander? Especially because Coil already knows the Undersiders have agreed to turn against him for her. When he does take care of them as Director Calvert of the PRT, he can send them to the Birdcage with the knowledge that the teammate they killed never actually betrayed them.

Coil would keep Dinah. He’d even keep Tattletale and the body double he had with her as another false betrayal later down the line. He’d be able to say he kept his word to all appearances. Heck, he never said that he wouldn’t capture her again, so he might even think he did keep his word himself. And once he captures the Undersiders as a win for his civilian identity, he can revel in the Undersiders reactions as he tells them that he played them for fools for daring to betray him.

#parahumans #worm #worm spoilers #taylor hebert #lisa wilbourn #coil

28 notes · View notes

sariahsue · 9 months

Text

Let Me Count the Ways

Chapter Eighteen - A Talk (FINALLY)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [Ch 12] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [Ch 17]

Chat Noir pulled up the screen on his baton, but Ladybug’s telltale dot was nowhere on his radar. He stowed his weapon away for the twelfth time in as many minutes and stared out over the river. Two more minutes here, and he would move onto another location.

The plan was simple: stay out, stay visible.

After the akuma battle, he’d quickly recharged Plagg and went to hunt down Ladybug, though he knew she’d already fled. She would want to avoid him, there wasn’t a patrol for another two days, and they’d just had an attack. If he didn’t lure her out, he wasn’t sure when he would see her next, and if he didn’t see her, he couldn’t kiss every inch of her face and tell her that he loved her until he forgot every other word, like he so desperately wanted to do.

So he stayed out, roving from park to tourist trap to shopping mall, being seen by as many people as possible. His movements would get reported to the Ladyblog, and maybe she would come when she heard he was waiting for her.

An hour later, she did.

“I’m so sorry.” Ladybug watched her own wringing hands.

“M’Lady–”

“Please.” She jerked her head up to face him, but her eyes were closed. “I read too much into your reactions, and I saw what I wanted to. You never reciprocated. I can see that now. I’ll be mature about this and not bring my feelings for you up again.”

Practiced speech over, she peeked one eye open, her face still scrunched tightly against his impending rejection.

When it was clear that she wasn’t going to speak again, it was finally his turn. But he couldn’t think of anything to say. There were plenty of things he wanted to tell her, but no words could do them justice. Instead, he reached both hands out to her. She didn’t move when he cupped her face, but he felt her sharp intake of breath when he kissed her, so he retreated faster than he would have liked and kept her head in his hands so she couldn’t get away.

“I love you.” His words were still slow in coming, but it was a start. “I never stopped loving you.”

Her eyes so close to his, he saw how they flickered with hope.

“I’ve been keeping myself in check,” he confessed, “so I wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, but there’s never been a second that I didn’t want everything you were giving me.”

The hope still flickered, smoldering, not yet the burning blaze that he was hoping for, so he kissed her again.

And she finally responded.

He was done holding his feelings in.

When her lips moved against his, he matched her. When she tilted, he turned, until he felt the perfect angle, and it was his turn to catch his breath. One of his hands left her face to slip down her back, fingers tracing a line across her hips. Every point of contact was hyperaware, from thigh to chest to mouth. Her breathing was an uneven echo of his own, her hands skimmed his body.

He didn’t realize she’d been walking him backward until he stopped, one heel hanging over the lip of the building. The thrill of kissing her mixed with the thrill of vertigo, and he had to grab both of her hips and push her away (only a little) before she could send them both over the edge. Death by true love’s kiss. What a way to go.

Ladybug rested her nose in neck, breathing him in, as his pounding heart started to slow to a more comfortable pace.

“I love you,” she said. “Will you go out with me?”

His heart was back to beating double time.

“Oh. Ice cream was a date. That’s why you were so nervous. We were on our first date.”

She pulled back, startled, to stare at him, and then laughed. “I can’t believe you didn’t realize that before. Why else would I ask you somewhere for food, in public, with a set time in the future?”

Chat Noir drew his claws against her sides, and she shivered. That he was the cause of her reaction was amazing. “In my defense, I was telling myself you had no interest, and to stop thinking that you wanted me like that.”

“I want you like that.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought their bodies and faces close together. “But you didn’t answer my question. Do you want to go on a date with me? With food, in public, in the future?”

He kissed her before responding. “Why not now?”

---

Author's note: Next chapter is the last one! An epilogue of sorts!

Tag list: @clawsout83 @trippingovermyfeet @tbehartoo @yoonjae20 @random-cartoon-fangirl

#ml #mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir

31 notes · View notes

foreverlogical · 3 months

Text

Dueling primaries in the critical swing state of Michigan added some new data points and, in many ways, built on several preexisting narratives. Here's a basic roundup.

1. Donald Trump underperformed the polling again!

Congrats to Trump on his 42-percentage-point victory over rival Nikki Haley, but the polls still love him more than the people do—a consistent phenomenon this cycle.

With 98% of the vote in, Trump holds a roughly 42-point edge over Haley, nothing close to his predicted margin. The final 538 polling average had Trump winning by 57 points, meaning he underperformed his polls by about 15 points.

Since the GOP primary has become a two-person race, Trump has consistently underperformed his polls. Across the four contests so far (excluding Nevada’s overcomplicated primary/caucus system), he has now underperformed his 538 polling average by 9 points. One way or the other, it can’t be bad for Biden.

2. "Uncommitted" passed their 10,000-vote goal, but President Joe Biden still finished strong

The "uncommitted" vote—an effort to challenge President Joe Biden's pro-Israel stance on the war in Gaza—set a low bar of getting 10,000 votes in this Democratic primary and easily surpassed it, clearing the 100,000 mark.

Hillary Clinton famously lost Michigan to Trump by about 10,000 votes. So Tuesday night's results revealed a meaningful level of concern about Biden's support for Israel in a key swing state with a large number of Arab American voters.

That said, the overall percentage of "uncommitted" voters—a little over 13%—only modestly surpassed the 11% share of uncommitted voters in 2012, the last time a Democratic incumbent president faced a virtually uncontested primary. Later that year, President Barack Obama went on to win the state by nearly 450,000 votes.

The bottom line is that the uncommitted protest vote made a statement, but Biden still finished strong, with more than 80% of the vote in a primary where voters had three other options (uncommitted, author Marianne Williamson, and Rep. Dean Phillips).

3. Marianne Williamson (who wasn't running) bests Rep. Dean Phillips (who was running)

Big night for Williamson, who had suspended her campaign and has now unsuspended it after blowing out Phillips by less than half a point, 3.0% to 2.7%.

Phillips is toast. And Williamson's move to re-enter the race is a laughable over-read of her “victory” over Phillips, who, again, is toast. “Uncommitted” beat both by double digits.

4. The Trump protest vote was far more meaningful than the Biden protest vote

More than 30% of voters in the state’s Republican primary cast what is functionally a protest vote against Trump, who's won every state so far. Haley garnered the majority of those votes and will likely finish with north of 26%.

At the same time, just under 20% of voters in the state’s Democratic primary didn’t vote for Biden.

In other words, Biden will win Michigan’s Democratic primary with more than 80% of the vote, despite a lot of suspense around the uncommitted vote, but Trump will win the Republican primary with under 70% of the vote, despite his diehard supporters surely wanting to make a statement against Haley and all non-MAGA Republicans.

5. Haley isn't done bashing Trump

Despite her loss, Haley vowed to stay in the Republican primary until at least Super Tuesday. She is also on pace to hold at least 10 fundraisers in the 10 days before those contests ensue, according to Andrew Romano of Yahoo News.

Haley also used her spotlight Monday evening to make some astute observations about Trump and the Republican Party.

"What I am saying to my Republican Party family is, we are in a ship with a hole in it," Haley said.

"The RNC is not about winning races up and down the ticket. The RNC is now about Donald Trump," Haley argued, calling the organization Trump's "legal slush fund."

The Biden-Harris rapid-response account helpfully tweeted out the clip.

3 notes · View notes

gamerbearmira · 2 years

Note

I had this idea of protective mama Mirabel au. She'll be like-

(Isabela is 15 and Mirabel is eight)

"ISABELA VALENTIA ROSAS MADRIGAL WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Mirabel shouted. she knows full well Isabela wasn't supposed to be sneaking out at night so she was pissed.

It was about 11 pm at night and Isabela's curfew was ten.

"YOU ARE NOT MY-" she tried to yell back but a shoe was thrown at her head. She should be happy that she has a gift because if she didn't there was no way she was getting out of Mirabel's grasp. But that still didn't save her Mirabel managed to hit her before she fully made it into her room.

"YOU ARE GROUNDED UNTIL I SAY SO" her words echoed through casita. She knew isabella heard her and she hopes Isabela would be nice and not try anything

(Mirabel is 13 and Camilo is 13)

Camilo tried to sneak a girl into the house but...nothing gets passed, Mirabel.

Standing right outside the door was Mirabel waving goodbye to the girl he was supposed to let in. Camilo could have sworn he saw fire in Mirabel's eyes.

She pushed him back inside and casita closed the door after she walked in.

"Camilo you know full well no one is allowed in this house after 8 pm...it's 10:30," she says calmly while she's grabbing her shoe.

He tried to reason with her, he tried to beg, he tried everything but he knew the rules. Mirabel had mercy on him though

"I'm gonna give you 3 seconds," she says as she raises her arm up with the shoe in hand. Of course, 3 seconds weren't enough. Mirabel was so pissed she gave him the double shoe pain

(Mirabel is 12 and luisa is 16)

"Luisa I already told you that you can take a break today" Mirabel reassured her dau- Hermana. Mirabel made sure that whatever the town needed would be postponed. Whoever tried to disagree with her was deeply scolded to the point that they don't even want to look in Luisa's direction let alone talk to her.

"bu-" Luisa tried to speak but Mirabel wouldn't allow it.

"no Luisa go take a break, I don't want to hear another word about it" and with that Mirabel sneaked Luisa back up to her room where she can sleep and relax.

Later Mirabel would follow Alma around just trying to see if someone dared to say something to her. Mira was only 6 feet behind her but can quickly run off if she thinks Alma is going to turn around. Thankfully no one dared to talk to her.

(Dolores is 16 and Mirabel is 9)

Mirabel insisted on she and Dolores have some quality time together while picking out fabric for clothes and such. Mirabel had made her ear muffs so if they ever need to go into town Lolo would be ok. they both know Asl/SSL so communicating wasn't a problem.

Some guys ruined their evening when they tried to catcall Dolores but Mirabel wasn't going for that. Mirabel knows what they were doing was wrong because her father told her what they were doing.

"Papa, what does cat calling mean?"

"well...that's when a guy is...being disrespectful to a woman" he refused to answer any more questions she had.

She made Dolores sit in the fabric shop and wait for her until she came back. Mirabel said she had "business" to take care of. Mirabel found those men and lead them down an alleyway saying that Dolores had a message for them and they had to hear it in private.

Once they were far away enough she gave them a world full of physical and emotional pain. No one disrespects her Nina prima.

Dolores heard it all but decided not to say anything. The three men told Alma about it and she tried to scold Mirabel but Lolo told her she heard nothing about that.

the three men were scolded instead and Mirabel and Lolo had a nice day full of embroidery and clothing making.

This au will kind of be in modern times where the adults work 24/7 so she had to step up and be the parent. This au will have crazy shenanigans so stay tuned!

Luisa, Antonio, and Dolores are her angel children and Isabela and Camilo are her gremline children. But all 5 are usually gremlins soo...

Shiiiii 💀💀 mfs aren’t safe from her, she pretty much adopted all them and they couldn’t do nothing to stop it 😭 I’m not surprised she stepped in on so many occas, I mean she only wants the best and she only wants them to be safe.

#encanto #my asks are open #my asks #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel #protective mama Mirabel

27 notes · View notes

greenhikingboots · 1 year

Note

Hey, for the bts of Fic Writing : 4 10 12 15 17. Thanks and Happy New Year🥰❤️

LOULA! Thanks for playing along. I'm so flattered you care to know. Here are my lengthy answers because I do not know how to be concise.

4. Do you outline before you start writing? If so, how far do you stray from that outline? I outline but I stray A LOT. Wait, let me explain that more accurately. It’s more like a continuous cycle of outline, write and stray, publish a chapter, re-outline the next few chapters, write and stray again — and on and on like that. Usually the straying happens because I can’t commit to secret pining as long as originally intended. Like, I give in and let my characters reveal some feelings too soon, then I have to figure out how to make the later plot points I have planned fit into a different emotional context. Which sometimes means changing the plot points. And then! Because the other changes that have occurred, I often feel as though I can no longer include some gut-wrenching conflict I had planned. I'm like, “They've come too far for that buffoonery now." So I have to soften the blow instead. Basically, I’m not as good at letting my characters suffer as I’m “supposed" to be according to typical writing advice. But that’s when I remind myself it’s fanfiction and I'm here to have fun! So it's all good. ❤ 10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot, the most? That’s a question for me. I think I’m pickiest about dialogue because I value it the most. I mean, these are romance stories I'm writing, right? And people fall in love by connecting emotionally which happens in large part through dialogue, right? That’s how I see it anyway. So it’s a double-edged sword. Dialogue is the part I like least because I put pressure on myself and then overthink it. But it's also the part I like best because it’s so important and feels SO GOOD when it turns out well. Plus I just LOVE making Jon say romantic things to Sansa — in both understated and over the top ways. It's my favorite thing ever. BUT! I’ll also add that I have some stretches of exposition I’m really proud of. In Chapter 1 of Inevitable I did a big background information dump right away, which (to bring up typical writing advice again) is a no no, right? But I don’t care. I think the whole chapter flows really well and it sets up Jon’s characterization perfectly. AND! Him thinking he can never be as good as Ned or offer Sansa a relationship as good as her parents is the whole crux of the story dammit! And it’s all subtly included right there in Chapter 1. Hell, it’s all right there in the first sentence! And I’m proud of that. 🤪 12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to? I had a S7/8 Fix It Fic that I took down while it was still a WIP. I re-worked and re-published the first half, ending it in a happy but intentionally ambiguous way. Mighty Love & Better Dreams — one of my less popular works, about 25k words if anyone is interested. But anyway, I’ve got another 12,000 words or so left — the second half of the incomple version I took down — that I’d still like to clean up and get back on AO3 someday. To finish it, I have to lean further into Political!Jon and Dark!Dany than I’ve done before, which I find intimidating (especially writing Dark!Dany. I agree that's how it'll go in the books, but how do I write it!? Someone help!) But like I said, I’ve got about 12,000 words already and a lot of it I really like. So it would be a shame to waste it, so to speak, by never finishing. So that’s my answer: Fix It trope featuring Political!Jon and Dark!Dany. 👀 15. A Hollywood producer tells you that they want to film just one of your fics? Which fic would you want it to be?

Sorry, this answer might not be fun because it isn’t a Jonsa fic. Also I'm going to cheat and say I want it to be a TV show not a film. No that that's out of the way... I have a Dramione story I took down quite a while ago, Between the Lines, because I want to eventually rework it and republish it. It’s got the makings to be a 300k word epic told in a non-linear way (which is an idea I revisited recently when I wrote A Good Chance) and a teen ensemble cast type thing, which is popular on TV, right? Also... okay I’ll admit it, I daydream about changing that fic enough you can no longer recognize it as fanfiction. Then I could publish it as a traditional, original book (slim chance but that's why I called it a daydream).

I’m pretty over Dramione though, so maybe if I started thinking of it as a Jonsa AU it’d be easier to to craft it into something new but with some of the important plot points I still like. Maybe?

Woof. Really letting my true self show here. How embarrassing! ☠

17. What fic are you most proud of?A Boy in His Cups might still be my favorite fic I’ve ever written — my first Jonsa one-shot. IMO, the emotional beats are a tiny bit rocky towards the end, but otherwise it’s a very polished fic (maybe because I’ve gone back and edited it so many times.)

It’s Jon’s POV with pining and angst and fluff and confession of feelings and it fits so well with canon concepts. So bascailly all of my favorite things rolled into one. I am the target audience and I just love it!! Maybe someday I’ll write a sequel from Sansa’s POV and call it A Girl in Her Cups. 💋 Holy cow! That's a lot of words. Did you even read it all? Won't blame you at all if not. Thanks again for the ask, Loula. You're a gem. XO.

#fanfiction #writing thoughts #asked and answered

4 notes · View notes

aohendo · 2 years

Text

Death to Redundancies!

I don’t know about you all, but I vastly over-write. It’s great during NaNo, but when I was trying to fit Reverberate into a standard publishing length (ie. less than 120,000 words)? It sucked.

I managed to take it from 146,958 to 122,991 words, filled in some missing scenes, and squished it all back down to 133,268 words. I then decided Reverberate needed some larger plot overhauling, but I digress.

Say you’re in the “grah book too long no agent will look at this” boat. How do you edit down?

Kill the redundancies.

I like thinking of editing as making a manuscript into a TARDIS: it needs to be bigger on the inside. To me, that means more meaning per word. That means not writing what is implied.

The first thing to go were most of my stage directions. For example: “He picked up the mug and raised it to his lips, drinking” became “He drank.” That example is rather extreme, but within the context of the scene, modify these questions and ask yourself:

Has the cup already been established as a mug? Has the fact that it’s a mug been implied by the presence of a hot liquid or this guy just not having any normal cups in his house? Does his picking up the mug have any special meaning or subtext, or is it an action to add words? Is the pacing of this scene meant to feel tedious, slow, middling, quick, or abrupt? Is this meant to be a dialogue beat? And so forth.

Be sure to also expand those questions to the paragraph level.

Note!!! I did things backwards, starting with the little sentence-level redundancies and then working my way to a macro level (scene, chapter, and act). The reason that second draft was only 122,991 words? I completely cut over 10k of unnecessary scenes. I did the micro first because it made my brain happy, but that also means I edited more than I had to. Consider going macro to micro.

What I looked for during the macro edit is… you guessed it! Redundancies: things which are unnecessary to the plot, don’t have any bearing on character development or worldbuilding, or which needlessly repeat things revealed earlier—or later. So that really cool scene with some Marines dropping from orbit a la Halo Helljumpers? Moved to the “Stuff I Deleted” doc. Why? Because I asked myself:

Who is this scene about? How does this scene affect the pacing? What bearing does this scene have on the plot? What information (worldbuilding, characters, or setting) is revealed in this scene? Is that information already given elsewhere? Does this scene add nuance to that information, or just restate it? What changes to the manuscript would be needed if this scene were cut, and how large would those changes be?

Although those questions are framed for larger scenes, they’re essentially the same as the paragraph and sentence-level questions. Unlike on the micro level, when doing macro edits, I would strongly suggest, especially if you’re more of a panster/discovery writer (like me!) that you map out your plot. It will help you determine what plot points are actually necessary.

For what it’s worth, asking those questions as I was editing resulted in large swathes of Reverberate Draft Two looking like this:

[image ID: a double spaced printed page of writing in a three-ring binder, the text liberally crossed out and added to in pink ink /end]

Once you’ve done a few rounds of redundancies edits, hopefully your word count has shrunk. If not, or if you’re in the mood to really tear into it, hit it with Ken Rand’s The 10% Solution. The long and short of it is to ctrl-f for these words/syllables, one at a time, and then determine whether or not they’re actually needed:

-ly, of, that, said, was/were (as in, passive voice—“he was killed by zombies”), by, his, her, very, about, -ing, And, But (starting sentences), like, -ion, felt, hear, smell, saw, taste, touch (notice: all head verbs/distancing verbs/filtering verbs/whatever you want to call them), aloud, and whatever your crutch words are (for me, just and barely) (page 57).

Below is an example of how I took all that into my own editing. Snippet from Attenuate/Reverberate. CW: language.

Draft One: 132 words.

Stumbling into the armory, Madison barely wheeled around a trio of Marines putting on their gear for an exercise. Why the worship did her and Cal’s lockers have to be so far away from the entrance? Finally. Madison fell onto the bench more than sat, wriggled out of the straps more than set the bag of gear to her side. Her head lolled against the cool metal. It was the aftereffects of the vaccumshock. Had to be—or the emergency cryo. Or maybe whatever final painkilling cocktail Modise had pumped into her veins before he removed that IV. Madison ran her hands down her face, swollen fingers catching on the freeze-peeling skin of her face. She sighed and forced herself to sit up straight, unlock the bag, begin unloading into her locker.

Draft Three: 132 words.

Stumbling into the armory, Madison barely wheeled around a trio of Marines putting on their gear for an exercise.

“You see that, Jose?” the female Marine said. “That’s what happens if you don’t fuckin’ listen. You want the godfucked vacuumshock slippers?”

Madison staggered out of range of the Marines and collapsed on the bench in front of her locker and wriggled out from her case of gear. Her head lolled against the cool metal. It was the aftereffects of the vaccumshock. Had to be—or the emergency cryo, or maybe whatever final painkilling cocktail Modise had pumped into her. The general achiness and bruising was from the N-9’s sound gun. Swollen fingers caught on the freeze-peeling skin of her face. Madison sighed and willed herself upright to begin unloading into her locker.

Draft One and Three are the same length, but that is almost entirely due to the fact that I managed to sneak in a line of dialogue. Is it necessary? Not at all! Do I think it adds character to the scene? Yup.

The key edit between the Draft One and the Draft Three version is that I got rid of most of the first half of the Draft One paragraph. It added nothing that wasn’t already shown earlier in the manuscript, and I didn’t feel the repeated information well-timed.

You’ll probably notice that the Draft Three version can be further cut down. Say, for instance, by getting rid of that dialogue snippet. Something to watch for when you go full throttle on editing is that you open yourself to risks of stilted paragraphs, record scratches, and time jumps (characters teleporting, things which logically happen after something happening before, etc). Be sure to keep an eye out for those, and to find a buddy to call you out on them.

Hard Edit Just Now: 92 words.

Stumbling into the armory, Madison wheeled around a trio of Marines and collapsed before her locker. She wriggled out from her gear-kit, and her head lolled against the cool metal. It was the aftereffects of the vaccumshock. Had to be—or the emergency cryo, or maybe whatever final painkilling cocktail Modise had pumped into her. The achiness and bruising was from the N-9’s sound gun. Swollen fingers caught the freeze-peeling skin of her face. Madison sighed and willed herself upright to unload into her locker.

Which draft version do you prefer? Do you all have any go-to tricks for editing? Is there anything that would benefit from a different explanation or more examples? Let’s get that discussion rolling!

[image ID: a gif from the 12th Doctor’s last season. Bill Potts stands in the TARDIS door and exclaims, “It’s bigger on the inside than it is on the outside!” And Nardole responds, “Hey, hey! We got there!” /end]

#writing #writblr #writerblr #editing #writing tips #hendo's toolbox #writing reference #writing resources #attenuate/reverberate

4 notes · View notes

waitingformyfavoritesongs · 1 year

Text

26 Jan u ary 2023 Thursday 4:26 am pdt

Incubus put something into a hole in my spine that I was not aware was there. 4:29 am pdt my life is over. 4:30 am pdt

7:26 am pdt didn’t Simon Cowell recently have back surgery? He’s brave 2 go through with something like that. It was sometime after I found an article about him saying that the voice copied? Or stole something they were going to use that he fell down the stairs. I blame incubus 4 that. 7:28 am pdt

7:24 am pdt incubus continues to torture my rib area as usual when I think I don’t have a husband and similar thoughts along those lines.

7:44 am pdt this feels to me as if it were translated n2 words from symbolism of Adam and Eve rib, is designed 2 mislead until it is too late and becomes clear it is sarcasm and that it’s all a big Joke. I’m a fool . They made me n2 one. Why I never reported “ Brendan”? 4 starters ... 4 some reason I was more focused on trying 2 explore possible romantic feelings 4 him 4 years without thinking that he was a bad guy. Even though it was apparent he lied about his age I didn’t know what his age was until years later. But when I learned his age I think I was 18 already?? My memory is fuzzy on this part. Lower Back? pain 😖😭 7:51 am pdt 7:53 am pdt I was chatting with a guy in Michigan at the same time as Brendan in Long Island New York Bcz they both instant messaged me at the same time on aol. The guy in Michigan seemed more honest about himself that he emailed me a pay stub with his social blocked out with permanent marker I think and a drivers license with the drivers license number blocked out and my mom took both of the printouts to the police bcz she was nervous. 7:57 am pdt “Brendan” in his Friendster profile said he was year of the monkey and he liked drums and anime and clockwork orange the movie? I think. I think he also told me that movie on the phone but my memory is blurry. 7:58 am pdt in the phone he said he liked “kitchen Spanish.” When we chatted online he said he was friends with gym class heroes (2001). His picture in Friendster ... he was EXTREMELY ATTRACTIVE! A stunner. 8:01 am pdt he never sent me a picture so this probably shocked me at the time, again memory blurry. He was a sweet talker online and on the phone. Unfortunately he was 5 years older than me. I don’t know if it was him that I was talking to online and on the phone. I don’t know if he had a roommate or close relative that he would have let have access to his account. Why would he keep the same email address? Why would he link someone else’s art website and give the impression that it was his when it was not? Why would he use his first name but pretend he had the face of Russell Crowe which he told me on the phone? 8:07 am pdt is he a gas lighter and guilty of bigger things??? 8:08 am pdt 8:10 am pdt the first night he instant messaged me it was a little more than a month b4 my 16th birthday and he said he was 17 years old at the time- “Brendan.” 8:12 am pdt

9:29 am pdt there was an article I read a very long time ago about parents? If children they gave up 4 adoptions. Something about feelings. I probably need to double check this. It was probably something that presented itself infront of me like a lot of articles do these days. Otherwise I’m not sure how I found out about it. It is strange to me. 9:33 am pdt

27 Jan u ary 2023 Friday 6:39 am pdt heart pain probably from being burned a lot. 😖😭🥵😤🥵😤

got hooked 🪝 on thinking incubus is attractive again and then he applied acid 2 my vag again. B4 that I think I watched fifth harmony work from home 🏠. When I try 2 pull away some times he puts his wicked Merlin 🧙‍♂️ “love” potions 🧪 in me & I go back 2 wanting him. It seems at this point it would b best 2 pretend? Not care about being honest bcz honesty is not rewarding. 6:44 am pdt now I question if I was being honest about not wanting him. There are times now that I don’t find him attractive let’s just put it that way. 6:46 am pdt bcz when I think I am turned off by something he somehow flips the switch so I’m no longer turned off by what he did. 6:47 am pdt 😑🧐🤨 6:48 am pdt

7:03 am pdt toilet 🚽. 7:04 am pdt so tired 😓 😴 gurgled. I sound like an old man 👴 now when I complain of pain. 7:06 am pdt what turned me off tongue 👅 sharp cutting pain 😖😭 😖😭😤🥵😤🥵 the part about him sending naked selfie 🤳 to mvrykv_ on Instagram. And thinking they probably acted out the sexting in person in Paris, France 🇫🇷 last year. After I felt and thought 💭 that it turned me off so much that I can no longer want what incubus wanted me to believe is true b4 all the women came out to expose him... & then the feelings flipped. I strangely started getting turned on at the thought 💭 of them doing it. He cursed me. & tricked me. He’s doing a strange dance 💃 of deception. 7:13 am pdt 😖😭😤🥵😤🥵 7:14 am pdt he burned my heart ♥️ after I typed that and it hurt! 😖😭😤🥵😤🥵

this is how he controls the economy, everything! 7:15 am pdt

I still can’t add images. He really intends 2 sacrifice me. As a martyr. Designated b4 conception. I have a Pegasus? Purple slightly transparent my little pony. I think I was 6 years old still but moved already to San Jose from king 🤴 city 🌃. I took a bath 🛁 with it. I also played with it in the sink. One of those times the stick on paper eyes 👀 washed out. My dad re-painted the eyes 👀 with lavender irises. Originally it had pale blue irises. 7:22 am pdt eyes 👀 being removed are a symbol of Saint Lucia. 7:23 am pdt

11:16 am pdt they’ve been yanking/yo-yo-ing my feelings back and forth 4 a long time, at least 5 years for the incubus. Now they’re burning 🔥 my hips and butt. I suspect I won’t be able to walk after they do this a lot. I had difficulty walking 🚶🏿‍♀️, on and off, since 2020. He made my body absurd shape, after cutting and trimming away at bone 🦴 and muscle since 2017, he made it extra and apparently absurd since 2021 and 2022. I keep on guessing when and how it will all end. In mid 2022, around May I again accept that nothing romantically will happen between me and incubus. And then when I read about Jaycee dugard on Wikipedia, he springs it on me that I have a memory problem and that he’s my husband and I don’t remember. Weird. And he convinced me but I was still in disbelief of my good fortune? But I’m still being destroyed by him and I really don’t remember anything about being married to him. Now I am back to being in disbelief. But my brain 🧠 keeps on wanting 2 going back to believing on its own bcz it’s more comforting 2 believe even if it’s not true. 11:28 am pdt but the comfort is short lived Bcz they go back to torturing me and my memory comes back that the torture was so severe in 2017 that I felt I was dying in agony and misery with every time and way they touched me. 11:30 am pdt R.I.P. the torture I felt gives R.I.P. truth - revelation. We are maybe most of us are Jesus when we hit 32 or 33 years old. We only get true peace ☮️ when we are dead ☠️. 11:33 am pdt because incubus likes suffering. 11:32 am pdt

12 pm pdt there’s a very awful joke I heard 👂 when I was a kid that’s been on my mind a lot since 2017: what do you call a man without legs 🦵 and arms? Answer: Bob. Something I think having to do with buoys ?? Bobbing up 🆙 and down with the waves 🌊 of the ocean 🌊?? 😖😭😤🥵😤🥵😞 heart ♥️ pain 12:03 pm pdt

12:04 pm pdt I don’t recall telling Scott “I like you.” I remember feeling guilty that I could not say it when he asked me. It didn’t seem to matter in the end though. He knew he was tempted but chose 2 see me again anyway. B4 we had”s*x” or what some might call rape, I don’t recall him saying that he liked me either. In retrospect, I felt so much guilty and I felt so sick in the head and the heart ♥️ from being with him that I think 🤔 I might have almost not notice that he took none of the blame later on. And he seemed fresh and clean 🧼 and happy, while I felt kinda shitty and guilty. He’s allowed to get carried away with sexual feelings and accept no responsibility 4 his actions but I have 2 own it all???? Demon lord gave me problems with addiction to s*x and tv 📺 and video games and the internet and some foods and eczema and problems with concentration and comprehension and head/brain trauma and relationships and there’s probably more. When he asked me if he could kiss me he did not even let me verbally respond. And if love and doing things right was so important to him he should have held off on asking for a kiss and instead ask, the very first thing: do you like me???????

that! Should! Have! Been! FIRST! But it wasn’t the first thing he asked. The kiss 💋 was more important 2 him. And with my problems with being honest about my feelings and speaking up 🆙 for my self bcz I was very shy 🙈 all my life I hid behind my rain 🌧 jacket 🧥 in kindergarten after I hung it up 🆙 in the wall all day most days until I was transferred out sometime after Halloween 👻 so I guess that was more than a month?? Hmmm 🤔.... and I had difficulty telling people “no!” And addiction to s*x which made it difficult to put my foot 🦶 down with the previous 2 guys b4 him but I did put it down and then he challenged it 2xs in a row that one day. And I challenged it already with a serious question one day b4 that time I believe it was b4 that day and he acted like it didn’t happen at all afterwards. 12:23 pm pdt

with my first real boyfriend, shamefully we did start out friends with benefits per my suggestion, and I don’t think I told him straight that my feelings were changing, and that’s why I suggested friends with benefits as a trial, he did express feelings of wishing I were his girlfriend prior to us doing anything couple-y/physically (12:37 pm pdt intimate) intimidate. I had indirectly warned him it might not work out by asking from the beginning if it doesn’t work out if we can still be friends afterwards. I was kinda crazy? so I actually scared him away permanently unfortunately 😓. I kept trying to talk to him after the breakup and he told me honestly that he would never love me. I appreciate that more than ever now. I even confessed to a mutual friend that I didn’t believe that it would work out since the beginning. I think 🤔 I never had confidence that anything would work out romantically for me since I was very young. Maybe bcz my mom said and did things that communicated I was unlike able? I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ if this is considered a self fulfilling prophecy, or I in my real realest uncontrolled by demon lord personality is problematic, or if it really is a curse put on me by the demon lord communicated to me by very few words and symbols/signs. (Saint Lucia curse) 12:33 pm pdt 12:34 pm pdt

2:17 pm pdt I would not want 2 go near the incubus lair? Home 🏠 that would = giving him easy access. That would be sending mixed signals that you want 2 b taken advantage of by incubus. 2:19 pm pdt

2:38 pm pdt I feel like and think that a lot of the media he had me see and hear 👂 was made 2 mislead me and many others, that he might be a good person. But I m having significant doubts now. 2:40 pmpdt

2:45 pm pdt “Brendan” had a great sexy voice and a New York accent. I think I remember when I used the word “hella” he said “Cali lingo.” He also said he had a cousin who lived in San Diego, and an uncle I think who resided in New Jersey?? Maybe 🤔 and he said they were going to have a “wake” for him. And he said his younger brother died in a car 🚗 accident. In 2007 I found his Facebook. He had curly Afro-ish? Big curly fluffy hair. And he’s dating an identical twin named Jackie. I accidentally sent him a Facebook invitation and soon after that I couldn’t see his Facebook account anymore. Huh 🤔 WEIRD! 2:52 pm pdt why did he do that???? Did he remember my first name and the way I described myself in 2001 and freak out???? Or is there something else going on? 2:54 pm pdt was he protecting himself? And or a “friend”? 2:54 pm pdt

3pm pdt after I updated 🆙 this I felt pain in my left heel... it scares me 😱 it feels as if some part of me is being dissolved it bubbles and or fizzes, I am not sure what it is doing. 3:02 pm pdt

3:03 pm pdt also been having tummy aches and earlier today felt as if the possibly the wall of my stomach is being eaten with acid. It’s been happening a lot recently 😖😭 3:05 pm pdt

3:06 pm pdt 3:07 pm pdt I’ve been trying to reconcile ideas 💡 in my head about right and wrong that I think I’ve heard 👂? Or interpreted from like the news 📰.. some men who murdered mothers there was one case recently... I did not commit the name to memory.... there are so many conflicting feelings and views. I guess it maybe has to do with the Bible and news 🗞 of Iran 🇮🇷... 3:11 pm pdt

anyway 3:11 pm pdt... oh. How did I find out his last name? I don’t remember if he used it on Facebook. He might have used Behan. Irish ☘️ playwright who might have been gay. On MySpace he used behan. It might have been on spokeo. Around 2010? There was some free information back then through reverse 🔄 email 📧 lookup option. I did not have to pay 💰 4 anything to get the last name. But if I wanted more information I would have to pay 💰. There a few other things too that were free I remember astrological signs 🪧. But I am having difficulty remembering which astrological signs 🪧 and an approximate address that it said was in vicinity and it was not the actual address. I was weird and I don’t think 🤔 I yet realized that he might be guilty of something bad? Bcz I hesitated on paying 💰 to get more information. I had saw the movie 🎥 serendipity and I wanted a serendipitous moment! Bcz I was going to go to New York for the first time in 2010, and I wanted to probably test fate? Destiny? So without planning to go to any place to intentionally see him, I went around hoping to randomly run 🏃🏻‍♀️ in to him. I also took a spontaneous trip to Boston. It was a time when I was trying to overcome fears! I went to Boston to see one of the younger guys (3 years younger than me) bcz I had difficulty telling him the situation and asking what he was expecting. He had started going to berklee school of music 🎶 , he was a drummer and saxophone 🎷 player. He said he was going to come and stay up all night hanging out in New York. And As I was talking to him ? Or after? My sister tells me straight without me asking, she says he cannot stay here. Feeling awkward about telling him that, I felt I don’t remember maybe 🤔 it was mean? I had some weird feelings I guess? Conditioning from mom and dad. Dad said American 🇺🇸 woman 👩🏻 can be mean, guys wanna flirt a little, and that he’s lonely, stuff like that, and mom made me feel like I was not allowed 🚫 to be angry, and difficult for me sometimes to know or be certain if I’m in the right? Bcz she seemed to easily get annoyed with me?? There were times I felt like I verbally had to “walk on eggshells”. So I tell him I will come to him to Boston. Some reason he was ok 👌 with that. I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ why. And he transferred his bus 🚌 ticket 🎫 to me. Maybe 🤔 he really was expecting for me to offer my sister’s shared apartment for him to stay???? 3:37 pm pdt when we are in China town at a diner me and my sister have a serious discussion about relationships and dating. I brought up 🆙 that I wanted to find a guy who would wait to have s*x (until marriage). And she said in reply that that’s hard to find. 3:40 pm pdt. I told her I thought 💭 I fell in love with josh. And I said he was so fun (or that I had fun when I was with him 3:50 pm pdt) But for some reason I think 🤔 b4 I went to New York, I somehow scared him away but I didn’t tell her that part. 3:42 pm pdt. China town has the streets canal & Bowery. 🎶🎼🎵 I took the 4 hour trip to Boston. 4 hours is long but somehow it doesn’t feel that long? I also took the bus back in the evening bcz I was trying 2b good & not stay the night at his place which he was probably half joking but not, that he thought 💭 I was a naughty? Girl and should stay the night??? Something like that but he didn’t kiss me, we never kissed, I don’t think 🤔 we ever held hands 🙌 either, but there was a time that I felt I had a really nice time with him and I did start to feel something, but I didn’t feel ready? I think it was??? 3:49 pm pdt. 3:51 pm pdt when I walked around New York with my sister I looked 👀 at many people. Usually I’m very shy 🙈 and I think for some time in my life after I got punched in the head I had looked 👀 down a lot. I was motivated to see if I would run 🏃🏻‍♀️ into him to have a serendipitous movie 🎥 like moment! 3:54 pm pdt

4:07 pm pdt on the news, on tv 📺, I don’t remember when, there was something about vitamin D helps cure autism? I think 🤔 I got a lot of sun exposure on some days in New York and I remember my eczema miraculously healed. I remember when I first arrived it was raining 🌧? I remember some days were sunny 🌞 and we took the bus 🚌 and walked around a lot. 4:11 pm pdt ever since I went to New York I thought 💭 about moving there. But fear got in the way. 4:13 pm pdt.

6:11 pm pdt I tried wearing multiple necklaces at the same time last year and I went to sleep 😴 with them on and awake to find it tangled and sorta choking me. 6:12 pm pdt 6:13 pm pdt

0 notes

dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3 · 2 years

Note

Hmmm,,, oh I know Top 5 Chapters of TPWP and/or TPWM (those of which don't have to be published yet)

Oooh, tricky... this is legit hard since I have a lot that I like, but for different reasons. I don't think I'll rank these in order, since that would be too tricky, but I'll try to limit myself to just my top five.

I'll put a read more since there will be spoilers for both TPWP and TPWM below. And it's long, ha.

Ask me my “TOP 5/TOP 10” anything!

(Just a note, I often have a lot of trouble with praising my writing, but I'm doing my best to be as positive as possible and not put down my writing as much as I can here. Anyone who reads my notes will know that I often have things I dislike about every chapter I post, so I'm doing my best here to not point those out and just go with the things I like. I don't always succeed, but still, I am trying.)

My top chapter would definitely have to be the last chapter of TPWP. I think it perfectly encapsulated everything I wanted it to encapsulate and ended the story in the way I wanted it to end. It was messy and angsty, but that was the point. They needed it as a catalyst to something softer and gentler between them, both of them realizing through their explosive anger that they didn't want things to end that way. That they wanted to fix what was wrong and make it right. I often dislike my writing, finding flaws in it always, but this chapter is one I tend to genuinely like without too many counters. I'm terrified to write it from Mondo's perspective, since I'm positive it's going to double in length, and the original chapter is already over 30k words. Oof.

One that I really do like would have to be chapter 24 of TPWP, entitled Sick Daze. This is the one where Taka is sick. I like it mostly because it's prolly one of the fluffiest things I've written, ha. It definitely has its flaws, but it's cute and sweet and shows the genuine care Mondo feels for Taka.

Chapter 16 of TPWP, A Sunset Ride, is another one I like. I do think the ending is a bit overwrought, but it's kind of supposed to be. Taka is realizing he's in love with his supposedly straight best friend, after spending years insisting that he himself is straight. He's struggling to cope, and it's hard for him. I think I showcase that fairly well in this chapter? I hope, at least, ha.

Going over to TPWM, I think I'd have to say the first chapter is one of my favorites. I just think I did a fairly good job of introducing Mondo's insecurities and setting up for the ways he acted while in TPWP. I'll admit, I changed a lot of things about Mondo's characterization and backstory while I was writing TPWP, so going back to write from the beginning with knowledge from the end was a bit challenging at times. But I think I did a decent job of blending some later additions to Mondo's character (such as having an abusive father, which was not something I thought of until, like... chapter 25 of TPWP) to how I had characterized him at the beginning. Also, bringing to life ideas I'd had back when I'd first wrote TPWP but hadn't been able to fully flesh out had been very satisfying.

This last one is one that has not been posted yet, but it's chapter 20 of TPWM, which corresponds with chapter 21 of TPWP, entitled Baking (mis)Adventures. This one has some flaws, but I like the interactions between Taka and Mondo, as well as Mondo's reactions to everything that happens between him and Taka. I won't go into too much detail to prevent too much spoiler, but I do like it. I also like the next two chapters, though I still need to do editing on them both before I could call them favorites.

Well, that's it I think! This was surprisingly hard, ha. Like I said, I always have trouble viewing my writing as good, and I often go back and forth on whether or not I like my writing in TPWP. It really depends on my mood, and while I'm not in a horrible mood today, I'm definitely lower than I usually am when I view my work as good. But still, I did my best. ^-^ Thanks for the ask!!! :-D

#Ask answers

1 note · View note

xtruss · 2 years

Text

Novak Djokovic Defeats Nick Kyrgios to Win His Seventh Wimbledon Title

Djokovic dropped the first set of the men’s singles final, but won the next three to capture his 21st Grand Slam title.

— The New York Times | By Matthew Futterman | July 10, 2022

Novak Djokovic of Serbia has won the Wimbledon men’s singles title four times in a row. Credit...Matthew Childs/Reuters

WIMBLEDON, England — The opponents and details change from year to year, but the bottom line has remained the same.

With his trademark steeliness, Novak Djokovic defeated Nick Kyrgios in the men’s final at Wimbledon on Sunday to win his 21st Grand Slam singles title.

Djokovic seized control of the match late in the third set, then used his signature mix of steady power and relentless discipline to keep Kyrgios at bay to win, 4-6, 6-3, 6-4, 7-6 (3), in 3 hours 1 minute.

The victory gave Djokovic his seventh singles title at Wimbledon and his fourth in a row. He secured the trophy he cherishes more than any other with his 28th consecutive match win at Wimbledon. It was his 32nd Grand Slam final. His record in those finals is now 21-11.

“I’ve lost the words for what this tournament means to me and my family,” he said as he clutched the trophy to his chest.

Kyrgios, playing in his first Grand Slam final, was the better player early, outplaying Djokovic in every facet of the game. But as he so often does, Djokovic eventually figured out the small ways he could get the best of Kyrgios, an often erratic Australian, on those few essential points that decide a tennis match as tight as this one.

The biggest of those came in the fourth-set tiebreaker, as Djokovic, moaning with every shot, battled through the rallies and enticed Kyrgios into four straight errors to take a 6-1 lead.

On his third match point, Djokovic pushed Kyrgios into the back of the court and watched one last backhand hit the net. He raised his arms, and as he has so many times before, took a taste of the Centre Court grass in celebration.

“He’s a bit of a god, I’m not going to lie,” Kyrgios said during the trophy ceremony, wearing a red cap rather than the required all whites in one last jab at authority in a tournament that had felt many of them.

“He’s a bit of a god, I’m not going to lie,” Nick Kyrgios, left, said of Djokovic after the match. Credit...Kirsty Wigglesworth/Associated Press

On a warm day and sunny afternoon that felt more like Kyrgios’s home in Canberra than Djokovic’s in Monte Carlo, Centre Court had a tense atmosphere. Two future kings, William, the Duke of Cambridge, and his oldest son, George, sat just above the court in the front row of the royal box, with Kate, the Duchess of Cambridge, the biggest tennis fan and player in the family, on the other side of George.

Early on, Kyrgios did just about everything better than Djokovic. He served harder and more accurately. He mixed spins and speeds and stood tall in the middle of the baseline as Djokovic chased balls left and right and struggled to catch up with Kyrgios’s drop shots.

Kyrgios found his first opening in the fifth game, drawing Djokovic in with a sliced backhand, then passing him down the line for his initial shot at breaking Djokovic’s serve. A Djokovic double fault sent him skipping to his chair for the changeover, and five games later, he clinched the opening set with an ace, one of 30 he managed on the day, compared with 15 for Djokovic.

But then Djokovic began to do what he does better than anyone else, find the slimmest crack and put his opponent on the defensive, no matter what the scoreboard says. A first set has been a learning experience for Djokovic.

He found that crack in the fourth game of the second set. With Kyrgios serving at 1-2, the big Australian got into trouble quickly with a long forehand. Djokovic then unleashed a series of backhands, each one hit a little farther into the court than the last, to get three chances for the service break. When Kyrgios’s forehand ticked the net and dribbled over, Djokovic was ready to pounce.

It is rarely a sudden annihilation. Instead, the pressure mounts with each game. Djokovic’s opponent finds himself under pressure on every serve. It’s 30-30, then deuce, then break point, then another. It’s more of the same in the next game, and eventually it’s all too much.

As the match wore on, Djokovic moved more fluidly across the court, dancing to the ball, pounding it on every stroke and serve, and landing it closer and closer to the lines.

Djokovic celebrates after beating Kyrgios.

After Kyrgios dropped the third set, he pumped his fist toward his box, trying to reassure his team. He started playing tennis at 7. It took him 20 years to reach this stage, far longer than most thought after he stormed onto the tour as a teenager with his speed and size and talent. Now it was all going in the wrong direction.

To his credit, Kyrgios never did combust. But no matter how hard he ran or served or how sexy some of those curling shots of his might have been, the wails of “Come on, Nick” that echoed across the 100-year-old ground and through the sauced-up crowds on Henman Hill outside Centre Court, were no match for Djokovic’s relentlessness.

In the long history of this tournament, there have been finals matchups with more storied champions and players far more beloved than Djokovic and Kyrgios, but it’s unlikely there has ever been one that presented a greater contrast in styles, both on and off the court, in tennis and life.

Djokovic, ranked third in the world, is the ultimate counterpuncher. Credit...Kieran Galvin/EPA, via Shutterstock

Djokovic, 35, entered the match second only to Rafael Nadal in Grand Slam singles titles.

Kyrgios, 27, had never even made a Grand Slam semifinal until last week. He still has not played in one because Nadal withdrew from the tournament with an abdominal tear on the eve of their match.

“I slept terribly again last night,” Kyrgios said.

Djokovic, ranked third, is the ultimate counterpuncher, the greatest returner of serve to pick up a racket. He plays in collared Lacoste shirts and has chased tennis immortality with singular determination since he was a small boy in Serbia.

Kyrgios, ranked 40th, plays in basketball tank tops and brings a rare mix of power and hands capable of turning a forehand blasted at his groin into a willowy drop volley. But he has also proven as fragile as any elite player, prone to erupt at an official, opponent or fan in the most vile manner or to smash rackets at any moment. Kyrgios earned $18,000 in fines in this tournament, for spitting at a fan and using obscenities in a third-round match and on Sunday.

On Tuesday, news broke that Kyrgios was due in court on Aug. 2 to face allegations of assaulting a former girlfriend. Chiara Passari told the police Kyrgios grabbed her during a domestic dispute in December. On the advice of his lawyers, Kyrgios has declined to comment on the allegations.

Kyrgios has long had an ambivalent relationship with tennis, playing a handful of tournaments, then disappearing from the tour for months, unable to cope with life constantly on the road.

Until recently, he and Djokovic despised each other, trading insults in news conferences and on social media about Djokovic’s lax approach to the pandemic. Djokovic has refused to be vaccinated and held a tennis exhibition in the spring of 2020 during which several top players contracted the coronavirus.

They are friendlier now, after Kyrgios voiced support of Djokovic after his detainment in Australia in January over his refusal to get vaccinated ahead of traveling to the country for the Australian Open.

During Sunday’s trophy ceremony, after Djokovic complimented Kyrgios on his performance, he joked that he never thought he would be saying so many nice things about his opponent.

Djokovic took up his Superman pose again after beating Kyrgios for the men’s singles title on Sunday. Credit...Zac Goodwin/Press Association, via Associated Press

Djokovic dropped some sets on the way to the final and had to come back from two sets down in his quarterfinal. But his destiny at this tournament was rarely in doubt. In the fifth set of that quarterfinal, he stretched for a backhand and ended up sprawled on the grass in a Superman pose, a shot that highlight reels will be showing for decades. He played Superman again Sunday.

It may be the last Grand Slam event highlight for a while. Unless there is a policy shift or he changes his stance on getting vaccinated, he will not be able to enter the United States to play in the U.S. Open.

U.S. rules require all foreigners entering the country to be vaccinated against Covid-19. Djokovic has said he believes that individuals should be allowed to choose whether to do so without pressure from governments.

Also, because he was deported from Australia, Djokovic would need a special exemption to return to that country to compete in the Australian Open in January.

Given that, Sunday might have been his last chance to win a Grand Slam event until next May at the French Open in Paris. He made the most of it. He usually does.

0 notes

timeandspacenovelist · 2 years

Text

Young Again

Rating: T Chapters: 10

Summary: After being contacted by Clara, the Doctor and Yaz head to the year 1999 to check out a very interesting product on the market…

Read this story on another platform: Archive of Our Own

Chapter 1 : Rock Heart

Late. Again. Ugh. Kelsey was gonna kill her. She only had time to put her hair in a messy ponytail, as she popped a Pop Tart into her mouth. Hopefully, she’d understand this time. She was at Stars, again. But it wasn’t her fault. They asked her to come back after last week and she got a standing ovation. Maybe she’d congratulate her?.. Doubtful, but it was the truth nonetheless.

A pair of jeans and a blue top and jacket later, she was ready. She swung out of her apartment and slid down the stairs, nearly hitting a passerby on the way down. She then took off at a pace to reach the corner when she came to a complete stop right next to a pantsuit clad Kelsey, who did not look happy.

“You’re late.” Kelsey said, tapping her feet.

“I know. I just…and the show ran late and there was traffic and you know…”

“Do I smell pop tarts?” she said, sniffing.

“Didn’t have time to make toast…”

“Sigh… Here…”

She handed her a muffin from a bag, to which Gwyneth took gleefully.

“Thanks!”

The pair then started off on their journey towards the clinic. Kelsey was honestly getting a bit worried about Gwyneth. This had been the third time in two weeks, and she knew exactly why. She supported her in everything that she did. She was her best friend. But the double life was getting a bit tiring for her and Gwyneth.

“You were at the place again, weren’t you?”

“They asked for me back, Kels. What was I supposed to do? Say no? I got another standing ovation as well.”

“And I’m proud of you for that.” Kelsey said with a genuine smile.

“Thank you.”

“What I’m not proud of you for is having to shout at you, because you’re dozing off when I’m calling you to help.”

But I still do the job well.

“You’re amazing, Gwyn, but you gotta start thinking about what you want to do with your life. How long can you go on doing this?”

She had a point. In all honesty, it was getting a tiny bit overwhelming for her. But it was fine. She could quit it anytime. Her singing was just a hobby, anyway. She knew that a full-time role at the vet clinic was coming anytime now. All she had to do was just tell Kels she was ready and the job would be hers. Besides, there was nothing in singing anyway that could change her mind to do that full time instead.

Before she could move any further, Gwyneth could feel her eyes being covered. She could instantly tell whose callous hands they were, but for the sake of playing along, she played dumb.

“Who is this?” She said with a smirk.

“No one.” The person said, stiffing a laugh.

“Well.. Kels, can you tell no one that their hair is pretty crap?”

“Oi! Lay off the braid. I think it looks cool.” The person said as they removed their hands.

”Morning, Tamera,” Kelsey said with a smile, happy to see the third member of their trio.

Gwyneth’s smirk soon turned into mild shock as she turned around. Tamera’s brunette braid was quite the opposite of pretty crap, as it cascaded well down her shoulder. Her red lipstick worked well with her pale skin, in addition to all of her makeup. Her Nirvana shirt was cute, as well as her skirt, which showed off her tattooed legs. She wasn’t a big fan of tats, but she could learn to be. Maybe the Scousers weren’t all bad.

She found herself frozen in time as she watched her, merely transfixed by her. To the point that she could blurt out one word when she had to say something.

“Hey!”

“Hey.”

Gwyn had her hair in the ponytail again. She always looked so pretty with it, Tamera thought. That blue shirt and jeans with that black jacket? Oh, she was rocking it. She always did, if she was honest. Had she been working out as well? She looked really good. She always did, to be honest. Did she say that again? Well, it was completely true, anyway.

They locked eyes with each other before turning away instantly and blushing, hiding their smirking faces from one another.

Kelsey rolled her eyes. They were doing it again. She swore they’d be like this at least once, every time all three would meet up. And as usual, she’d be the one who’d need to bring them back to reality.

“Ahem. We have a clinic to open.”

“Sorry! Right! Let’s go!” Gwyneth said, now back on track. Kelsey and Gwyneth started walking forward again as Tamera joined alongside.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?”

“Same as it always is. Making sure animals are ok, the usual. “

“Can I help?…”

“Tamera, you cannot come and just pet the animals again.”

“Not my fault that they were so cute! Please, I promise to actually help this time.”

She went in front of the duo and fluttered her sad green eyes and did her best pout. Kelsey was, of course, not phased, but Gwyneth got caught, as expected.

“I mean, we can at least give her a chance. You know Julie’s out sick this week, anyway. We need the extra help.”

“Fine…”

“Thank you!” Tamera said, doing a little dance in celebration to which Kelsey could only just shake her head at and smile.

“Don’t you have stuff to do with your band, anyway?”

“Nah, got this week off, because…”

She takes out a newspaper she had in her bag and skipped a few pages before placing her finger right in the centre. Gwyneth took the paper and began to read.

“Come see Rock Heart on tour! London, Glasgow, Cardiff and more! More details to be provided in the weeks to come!”

She looked up from the newspaper to see a beaming Tamera.

“Tamera, that’s amazing. Congrats!”

She ran over to her and wrapped her arms around her in a hug, which Kelsey quickly joined in on.

“Thanks! It was so hard not telling you two, but there was a chance it might fall through, so I didn’t want to risk it. But now it’s real! Got this week off to celebrate.”

“When does the tour start?”

“We’re aiming for the beginning of next month.”

Tamera then looked over to Gwyneth, who was looking at the ad again.

“We’re also looking for another lead singer. I try my best, but it’s not my strong suit. We’ve needed a replacement since Jamie had to drop out of the band…”

Her staring was enough to get Gwyneth’s attention, whose eyes widened upon the realization. It was obvious what Tamera wanted, and Gwyneth knew it too. Lord knows Tam had asked her about it before. But…it just wasn’t for her. It was too much. So she simply looked away and turned the page of the newspaper.

“What else is in the newspaper today? Ooh, missing person.”

Kelsey simply rolled her eyes, while Tamera’s face sunk, somewhat glad Gwyn couldn’t see her look hurt.

“23-year-old John Ducker was found missing from his home in Camden. Last seen heading to work.”

“Jeez, that’s the third one reported this month.”

“Fourth, there was two in one day last week.”

“Times are getting scary.”

“They already were, with a new millennium approaching soon.”

“Kels, the computers will not shut down.”

“You don’t know that! This Y2K thing is serious.” She shot back as Tamera rolled her eyes.

“On a lighter note…how’s your mum, Tam?” Gwyn said, quickly changing the subject.

“She’s actually going out tonight. Had me buy that new age cream thing from the store yesterday.”

“That “Young Again” thing that advertises on TV? It looks fake.”

“I thought so too, but she insisted I get it. Wants to look her best. Can’t blame her. It’s her first date since Dad died.”

Her head dropped slightly as her dad came to memory again.

“Been two years now… Still miss him so much.”

She felt Gwyneth’s hand rest on her shoulder, as she saw her smile, thankful for the comfort.

“We’re always here for you, remember that.”

“Thanks…”

______________________________________________________________

The trio eventually made it to the clinic, just having to cross the road to get there, when they saw a man walking out of the alley next to it. He was an older gentleman, wearing some kind of work outfit, with a number on it. As he reached out of the alley and made it to the sidewalk, he stumbled, holding his head, and fell down hard.

“Oh my God! Did you guys see that?!”

“We gotta help him! Come on!” Gwyneth said, rallying the other two.

The trio ran across the road, skillfully avoiding traffic as they reached the clinic and the man who had fallen outside of it. They got him up on his feet, and Gwyneth and Tamera carried him inside the clinic.

“Get him on the table. I’ll call an ambulance.” Kelsey said, heading to the phone immediately.

They got him on and even got a pillow to make him feel more comfortable. His breath was ragged, and it seemed like he was in a lot of pain. He tried to reach into his pocket for something, but Gwyneth put his hand back down.

“No, no. Rest. Don’t try to move too much. My God, you’re burning up. Tam, get a wet towel for me.”

“Pocket….”

It seemed hard for him to even say that, his voice very raspy.

“Pocket. You want something from your pocket?”

He nodded.

So Gwyneth rummaged around in his pocket to find what he wanted. Meanwhile, Kelsey had made the call already and was waiting anxiously.

“Do we have any idea who he is? Any ID?”

“Gwyn? Anything?” Tamera asked as she placed the towel on him to cool him down.)

“I got an ID.” she said as she looked back down at the moment. “Is this what you wanted?”

The man nodded again.

She took a look at whose ID it was, and her eyes widened she began to stutter. But that didn’t make sense. She looked at the person in the photo and the man. There was a resemblance, but…how was that possible? Kelsey and Tamera noticed her worry and went over to her.

“Gwyn, what’s wrong?”

“The..n.n.n.name….”

“Well, who the hell is it?”

Gwyneth took a deep breath and let it out.

“John Ducker…”

#13th doctor #doctor who fanfic #doctor who #yasmin khan #clara oswald #ao3 #fanfic #archive of our own #thirteenth doctor #original character

1 note · View note

planetsano · 3 years

Text

xbox or playstation? 🎮

SYNOPSIS ✰ eren finds more interest in gaming than you, his horny girlfriend.

WARNINGS ✰ nsfw/18+, gamer au, streamer/gamer eren, very needy and horny reader, humping, sex in a gaming chair, blowjob, dirty talk, eren is kinda mean but he lets you use him to get off.

PAIRING ✰ eren yeager x female reader.

The uncomfortable throbbing and heat coming from between your legs were enough to pull you from your sleep. The dream you experienced before waking up was the cause— your boyfriend fucking you into the mattress while his large hand your face hard-pressed into the sheets as he pounded into you from behind. It was expected, Eren’s been streaming and gaming for most of the day, leaving you to fend for yourself to find your own entertainment. Usually, you didn’t mind. It was his job and how he paid rent but on this particular day you were feeling very needy and your advances were met with a dismissive ‘I’m working.’ or ‘I’m busy right now. Can’t you wait later?’

A tiny whine escaped your lips as you sat up, wiping the sleep from your hazy eyes to an empty bed. The orange light from the sunset was bleeding through the window, entering the room and coloring the walls a warm apricot color.

5:15 pm is what the digital clock sitting on the nightstand on his side of the bed read. He should be finished streaming.

The soft pitter-patter of your soft feet sounded again the cold hardwood flooring throughout the hallway as you made your way to what you like to call ‘the homewrecking room’, it’s just his workroom but maybe you’re a little bit of a drama queen. The door was halfway open, so you stuck your head in. It was rather dark, his LEDs turned off and the blinds from the window closed. His face was illuminated by the computer monitors in front of his face. He wasn’t on stream right now that was a fact but you still knocked on the twice before stepping in.

“Eren,” You called for him.

Your soft voice grabs Eren’s attention, making him do a double-take. He takes his hand to push one side of his headset behind his ear, eyes locked on you for a moment. He’s not sure if you want to tell him something but he couldn’t lie, you looked cute right now— dressed in nothing but his hoodie and your cute panties. You were wearing the cotton ones that had the teeny ribbon bow at the waistband. You had a sleepy look on your face, rubbing your eyes with one of your sweater paws.

“Took a nap?” He asks— his eyes darting back to the main computer monitor out of the three in front of him.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, walking over to him and standing at the armrest of his chair.

Eren looks pretty right now. He always does but you especially love when he wears his hair down. He’s so invested in the game— brows furrowed in concentration while his fingers skillfully mashed the controller’s buttons. The game controller looks so small in his hands compared to when you’re holding it.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask softly, wiggling your sweater paw on his forearm.

Eren leans back further in his gaming chair, lifting his arms as an invitation for you to come climb into his lap. So you did— settling yourself onto his thighs with both your legs on either side of his waist. Your body melts into his with your face buried in his neck, taking in his scent. He smelled faintly of his favorite cologne, a sultry mixture of amber and cedarwood. Eren’s arms wrap around your frame, his slender hands still pressing the buttons on his controller rapidly. You can hear his friends’ yelling, profanities, and jokes spill through his headset. To be frank, you were getting a little jealous because you wanted his attention. You’ve been asking for it the entire day nearly.

“Miss you, Eren..” You whine quietly into his skin.

“Flank to your right, Jean-” Eren mutes his mic. “I’m right here, pumpkin.” He rubs yours back a couple of times before his hand is back on the controller. Eren isn’t really there and definitely not paying attention either, you can tell. There's a clear difference in tone— disinterest, and dismissiveness when speaking to you and the lighthearted words and chuckles his friends get.

“Pay attention to me.” You mumble.

“I am.” He deadpans.

“You’re not, you jerk.” Your shirt balls up into your fist.

You just want him— and you’re not exactly picky with how either.

One of your hands finds its way to your clothed pussy, lodging itself in between his crotch and yours before you begin to hump it, adding pressure on your clit from your middle and ring finger.

“What are you doing?” Eren asks quietly enough for his headset not to pick up his words.

“Nothing.” You whimper, continuing to rut yourself against your hand and taking in your boyfriend’s scent.

It’s not enough though, you know it’s not enough. In a way, you almost hate how Eren conditioned you to want his cock and his only. It’s so fucking big and pretty, he knows it too. The way you can feel that thick vein that protrudes angrily along his length rub against your g spot with every thrust. God, and how he splits you open is almost scary but you can’t get enough of it. Fingers, pillows, toys just don’t do it for you anymore— and your hand right now certainly wasn’t.

“C’n I put you inside?” You lift yourself lazily from his shoulder to look at him, pouting and flushed in the face. Eren sighs, before muting his mic once again.

“Will you behave? I’m serious, (Name). I’m not fucking you right now. Jean is recording for his channel.” He says.

“s’okay!” You perk up a bit. “Just wanna feel you.” You say.

“You say that then we end up fucking..” He sighs when he sees the sad puppy eyes you were putting on for him.

“Go on then, Get me hard.”

It’s been thirty minutes— thirty aching minutes of being stuffed full of Eren’s fat cock. Your panties have long since been discarded somewhere on the floor while his shorts and boxers are pulled halfway down his thighs. You know he can feel your walls fluttering around him every time one of you shifts even the slightest bit, and the most frustrating thing about it is: he doesn’t seem to be affected by any of this. Still ignoring you with his dick buried balls deep into your cunt. Every time you attempted to grind your hips down onto his, he would pinch your thigh hard enough to sting.

“Rennie,” You had tears pricking at your eyes at this point, all you wanted to do was cum but your boyfriend was being a jerk.

“Are you this insatiable? My god.” Eren asks.

“Please, Eren. I miss you.” You rolled your hips onto his.

“Fine. Use it, get yourself off. But I’m not helping you.”

Eren doesn’t have to tell you twice before you’re fucking yourself on his cock— quite literally using him as your own personal dildo. Your arms are wrapped snug around his neck, muffling your moans in his neck as you bounce yourself up and down on his shaft. The head of his cock hitting your cervix every time your hips slammed down onto his. The chair creaking underneath you both with your rapid movements was paired with soft sounds of skin slapping, your labored breathing, and whines. You’re almost certain his teammates can hear you, but it doesn’t matter to you. The only thing on your mind right now was using your boyfriend to get yourself off.

You feel your high form in the pit of your tummy, erupting like a volcano when you reach its peak. Your walls clamp around your boyfriend’s big cock— walls fluttering and clenching in erratic rhythms around his shaft. Your thighs are burning and shaking as you tried your best to silence your moans by biting down on his shoulder. Eren feels it all, he knows you just came but he’s still unbothered, his eyes locked on the screen. His body only moves slightly when you tug on his neck a little too hard. You’re limp in his lap, catching your breath when you hear Eren’s team call for a 10-minute break before resuming another session.

“Satisfied?” He asks, pulling back his headphones so they lay around his neck.

“You didn’t cum.” You say, your cheek slightly squished from his shoulder. Eren only shrugs and ushers you to get up by tapping on your thighs and you followed suit— lifting yourself off his cock. It falls heavy out of you, slapping softly onto his shirt glistening from your juices.

“Clean it.” He says.

You drop to your knees taking his shaft into your palm, dragging your tongue along his length making sure to flatten your muscle to cover more area. You look up through your lashes at Eren to see he’s on his phone— body relaxed with his arm rested behind his head, scrolling through Twitter. Ignoring you, again.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock as you swirl your tongue around the flushed red tip— then taking as much as you possibly could into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to create a sucking sensation. The rest that couldn’t fit was being fisted by your hand.

“I said clean up your mess, not get me off,” Eren says, looking down at you instead of at his phone. You released him from your mouth with an explicit ‘pop.’

“Will you feed me, Eren?” You ask, eyes never leaving his. “‘m hungry.” Your hand continues to pump him lazily.

“Fuck- Yeah, I got something for you. Hold still.” Eren’s phone is long forgotten, his hand grabbing a fist full of your hair pulling your head back.

“Use both hands, yeah- stroke my cock, baby.” Eren’s moans sound breathless and pretty. You’re moving your hands up and down his dick at a rapid pace.

“Open your mouth. Said you were hungry, right?” Eren shoots his load onto your tongue unannounced— his thick ropes painting your pretty pink tongue white, some of it dripping down your chin. He’s looking down at you with lidded eyes and his bottom lip nursed between his teeth as he rides out his high with a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Your hands come to an eventual stop and you roll your tongue back into your mouth, swallowing your snack. Eren takes a finger, swiping it along your chin to gather the excess that didn’t make it into your tummy. You gladly taking his finger into your mouth sucking it clean.

“Now get out. I’m working.”

#eren yeager #eren jaeger #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #aot eren x reader #aot eren #snk eren #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #snk x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #eren smut #snk smut

6K notes · View notes

pa1nkill3r · 3 years

Text

"Now How Come I've Only Found Out About This Now?" [G.W]

[Pairing:] George Weasley x Fem!Artist!Reader

[Summary:] So far, George Weasley knows three things about his new potions partner; So why not make it four? Or five?

[Warnings:] use of mudblood, a bit of angst, a bit of swearing, a pov change at some point in the end, idk-- fluff?? (is that a warning??)

[Word Count:] ≈2.7k

[A/N:] i used @buckystrenchcoat 's fluff plots for george weasley: 2. George finding out you can draw (kind of got carried away but oh well :D--) (ps just imagine that classes in hogwarts includes all of the houses together, thanks <3) Y/H = your house. (dk the timeline or what year george and the reader are in but i'd say between 3rd-5th year)

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

The Weasley twins were becoming reckless and apparently, Professor Snape has had enough. The constant explosions on the other side of the dungeon and the numerous attempts at drowning his hair with shampoo has eventually led him to the decision of assigning the entire class their partners.

Thus halfway into the semester, the Weasley twins are never to be seen together again... that is until the end of 2nd period where they will go back and cause mischief elsewhere.

Fred was assigned to a Slytherin girl who George couldn't figure out if she's madly in love with his brother or wants to rip out his guts. While he on the other hand was assigned with Y/N. Truthfully, he never gave much thought to her, but after their first double potions lesson as partners, he began to wonder why he never gave much thought to her.

She was smart but never overbearing, made jokes here and there, sniggered when he made even the cheesiest of puns, and is wicked attractive. Their first task was to brew a calming draught and whilst adding in a smidge more of lavender, she proposed that they should make more while the majority of the class was still struggling.

"Why in Merlin's beard are we going to make more? We can just pass this and leave class early?" He asked, bringing a smile to her lips. "Yeah, yeah, that's what you want, don't you Weasley?" She quipped, looking back up to the red-headed boy who's now readying their vials.

"Just thought that we could make some for people, like, your brother. Poor guy, reckon he's going to rip his hair out getting partnered with Tuttle." And with that, George let out a laugh, a laugh that cost Gryffindor 5 points. Though, all was well when they were the first to finish and send their little vial of calming draught into the hands of Severus Snape, garnering 5 points each and an opportunity to leave class 10 minutes early.

And that was it, that was their relationship; potions partners.

George Weasley learned 2 things that day. One, his potions partner was someone he wanted to know more, to be with more, and two, one should never put a liberal amount of peppermint in a calming draught. (Fred learned that the hard way.)

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

She was the epitome of beauty and brains. So far, that's what he knew about his potions partner. But a little incident in the corridor made two into three.

It wasn't unusual for Fred and George Weasley to skip class, especially if the class was History of Magic. And it also wasn't unusual for them to hide behind a tapestry whilst a stinky dungbomb was set in the first-floor corridor.

What was unusual though, was George not wanting to move from their hiding place, forcing Fred to also not move. "George, mate, wha-?" "SHH!"

Whatever Fred's question was supposed to be, it quickly got answered by the presence of a certain someone whose walking to the Muggle Studies classroom, his brother's potions partner perhaps? Fred grinned mischievously, nudging his brother in the abdomen, and earning a wince.

"Oi mudblood! Was that you?" They heard from a distance, heavy footsteps following the girl he's teasing his brother with. From their point of view, they could tell that the girl stopped in her tracks, sighing heavily as though this was a regular thing.

"Was that me, what?" She asked, clearly annoyed. "Was that you who did it? Or d'you just shat yourself? It smells horrid. Would make sense, as you're a filthy little mudblood."

George's blood was beginning to boil, fingers formed into a fist, knuckles white. Especially when they got to see the silhouette of the two arguing. Perfect, Winnifred Tuttle, his brother's potions partner bullying his Y/N Y/L/N. He had an urge to protect her. To avenge her. To show her how much he cared for someone who's supposed to be his potions partner.

"Was that supposed to be an insult, Tutts?" Y/N spat back, pulling George out of his trance and making Fred shut his mouth. Now he's the one staring intently. "It's honestly just sad. A 'pureblood' like you should know the difference between a dungbomb and a piece of shit. Or perhaps you're probably just that daft?"

The boys were fixated on their conversation now. A hand on their mouths, hopefully covering up their shock even if they're hiding behind a tapestry. George's heart was beating faster now.

"Me? Daft? Well, if I'm daft then why are you taking muggle studies?" Tuttle sneered, an ugly grin splattered across her face.

"Bit hypocritical, isn't it, Winnie? Bye-bye!" She turned her back away from the Slytherin now, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom, holding a few books in one hand and her middle finger in the other.

He knows three things about her now; She's bewitching, she's a whizz, and she's a muggle-born who doesn't take shit.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

A few more lessons in and one could say that Y/N and George are starting to become friendlier to each other. Acquaintances, sure, but, friendly nonetheless. But the Gryffindor wanted to live up to its name, to its values. He might've just gotten to know a bit about her but he was completely and utterly entranced.

Nothing's going to stop him now.

His right hand held his wand as he stirred the concoction in the cauldron. She, on the other hand, was cutting up the stewed mandrake. The easy silence between them was broken by none other than the lion himself.

"Hey," he called, lifting his gaze from the potion to the girl right next to him. "Hi." She said back.

"So... Today's a Friday, right?"

She looked at him, confused, recounting a particular time in which she looked at a calendar today. "Yeah, I think so."

"And we can go to Hogsmeade after classes?"

"Pretty sure you can, why?"

"Want to go on a date?"

She looked stunned which kind of hurt George's ego but as soon as the slightly parted mouth of hers became a cheerful grin, he felt a whole lot better.

"As long as you stop staring at me and not over mix our potion, then sure, I'll go out with you." She smiled, making George give a shy little grin back before attempting to put all his concentration on the brew. Mind boggled on the way she said 'our potion.'

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Going to Muggle Studies felt utterly useless now that Y/N's been promised to go on a date right after. But having George by her side, walking her to the class just seemed to be the best part of the day.

He recounted the time when he and Fred hid behind a tapestry and told Y/N all about it, giving a hot feeling to her cheeks. They stopped by the door frame of the classroom, Professor Burbage was waiting inside, pacing around her study as George's hand slyly held Y/N's.

"I'll pick you up later?" He asked with the same shy smirk plastered on his face, cheeks pink and ears flushed. "Yeah. Thanks for walking me here. You shouldn't have." She uttered, heels rising and falling as she bounced on her toes.

"Just making sure that Tuttsy's not going to ruin your day, love." Y/N felt heat rising to her cheeks and ears, as well as an uncontrollable grin. Her heel turned to make her face the concrete walls of the castle, hands covering their face and body slightly swaying from side to side. It was ridiculous, really. Dumb. Very.

"You're adorable when you're flustered."

"Shut up, Weasley." And with that, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving him slightly startled, stunned, and very red in the face. "You're adorable when you're flustered." She quipped, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom and taking her seat.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Muggle Studies felt oddly slow that day. Usually, it lasted an hour but today it felt like a century. Professor Burbage's talk about electricity and muggle technology went in one ear and out the other.

If you'd ask why Y/N chose a subject she already knew plenty about, her answer would be that she wanted to see things from a different perspective. But truthfully, she just knew that she'd be good at it and it'd be an easy O.

So there she was; A scrap piece of parchment laid on the wooden desk and a pen since Professor Burbage discouraged the use of quills.

Her mind wandered off the moment she sat down on her chair. Feet either bouncing up and down or stuck straight onto the floor, she wouldn't know. What she did remember was her non-dominant hand posing itself as the other one scribbled on the piece parchment.

Her fingers played with the hazy light and the ink added depth. Soon she started sketching other things; The student in front of her, a study of Professor Burbage, a head with a moderately strong jaw and beautiful, short, messy hair. A male side profile with a big nose that has a slight bump on its bridge matching a cheeky grin with dimples. Her hand posed itself once more but this time she wasn't making it look like hers, she was making it look like his. Something she's seen many times before, and guiltily stared at once, twice, more than she could recount.

She was adding in the cluster of freckles when the worst happened; "Miss Y/L/N, still with us?" Professor Burbage stood at the front of the class, standing straight, clearly thinking about her posture. "Miss Y/L/N?"

She felt an elbow nudge her arm, and that was the thing that brought her back into reality. Her head whipped itself to face her seatmate then to her Professor, giving her a funny-looking nervous grin.

"Charm would get you nowhere, Miss Y/L/N. When was the first electricity generator introduced in Britain? And where was it installed?" She has to have something in that brain of hers. It must've been taught sometime when she was in muggle school. "Err-- 1900s something, Surrey--?"

Professor Burbage meekly chuckled, "Nice try. 1881. Godalming, Surrey. A point from Y/H then, I'm sorry."

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

George was faithful and stuck to his word. Even being 5 minutes early after asking Professor Grubbly-Plank if he could go to the bathroom and have a wee, saying that the unicorns would definitely mind if he pissed on their trees.

He did not go to the bathroom but instead went straight to the Muggle Studies classroom. Leaning the side of his body onto the wall by the door. Trying his best to peer into the room and find his potions partner and soon to be his date and maybe even his. But he was getting ahead of himself.

The bell rang and he heard a loud shuffling sound of chairs being pulled back. The door was opened as students from all of the houses started pouring out and there she was. Looking beautiful as ever with her bag slung on her shoulder.

"Glad to see you're alright there, dove." He cooed, earning once again another shy smile. "Anything happened there?" He asked, pointing to the now open classroom.

"Felt way longer than usual, and I lost a house point." She said matter of factly. George chuckled, his heart filled with pride as he turned his head towards her.

"And what have you done to lose said house point?"

She smiled before reaching her hand into a pocket of her robes, pulling out a folded piece of aged parchment before handing it to the curious redhead.

"What's this? A love letter?" He bantered. "Just open it." And so he did. His nimble fingers unfolding the parchment, then he was stunned. Seeing his face drawn in ink with lines crossing over more lines was the last thing he expected. It looked like him. And it didn't look like Fred. It is him.

"I was just drawing in class but then I sort of blanked out and got a dumb question wrong." She paused, looking back up to see if the redhead was still listening. "Hello? Earth to George?"

"You drew me?" He was on a fine line of disbelief and awe. It truly looked amazing. She drew her hand at least three times before he recognized his was also there. She even got the little freckle he had on the middle of his wrist. The full body of ol' Professor Burbage brought so much of her energy and even the way her scarf wrapped around her neck was perfect.

Her cheeks were heating up again, realizing what she just did. "It's not that good. Just-- drew what I saw and, err-- whatever came to mind, I guess." Bad execution, sloppy excuse. "Okay, you've been looking at that for way too long now--"

"This looks bloody brilliant! Now how come I've only found out about this now?"

"Flattery would get you nowhere, Weasley." She joked, but he was serious.

"S'not 'flattery' if I'm stating what's true! It's amazing, you're amazing." She felt her heartbeat increase by a mile.

"Well then, I'm flattered." She said, adjusting the strap of her bag to hopefully let out some adrenaline. "And to answer your question, it'd be terrifying if I just started drawing in Snape's class. I swear that man has eyes at the back of his head. That's why this is a new discovery for you."

"Fuck, this is amazing!" He uttered.

"It's really not that good--"

"'S'really not that good' Some shit standards you have there. I'd put this in a museum!" He said loudly, extending both his arms and imagining that the piece of parchment was displayed on the Hogwarts walls. "If you don't like it then I'll keep it." George joked, expecting disapproval, which, to his shock, never came.

"Are you actually giving this to me?"

She shrugged, "I mean if you'd like a photo of you drawn by a teenage girl then be my guest." He smiled, genuinely smiled. He looked so pretty at that moment and there shouldn't be any holding back now.

"...But," She started, his gaze looked intently at her, ready to listen to whatever comes next. "There's a price."

"Between Freddie and I, we have 26 galleons and a few sickles." He said, earning a hearty laugh and a shake of her head. "Don't really think he'd like me to give all of it to you, I'm sorry. If you want I'd pay a bit then I--"

"No, George." She said, tugging lightly on his tie to gain his attention. "How about... a kiss? Perhaps?"

He grinned. His hand hovered itself across her face before landing on her cheek, thumb gracing itself on its apples, slightly squishing the skin whilst his eyes looked for any signs of discomfort; there was none.

They slowly leaned in, eyes locked on lips before their lips locked onto each other. His lips were slightly chapped but it felt like the softest thing on Earth. He smelled of cinnamon, firewood, gunpowder, and other indescribable scents, but it was nice. It was short but meaningful, gentle, even. His other hand was wrapped around her waist and once again, his thumbs were running up and down whatever part of her body it's laid on.

He learned two more things about the girl that day; she's artistic, and she felt like home.

He never thought there'd be a time in his life where he'd be thankful for Severus Snape. But life goes in unexpected ways.

"If you'd like to tip me then I'm just going to say that I love cauldron cakes." She grinned up at him as they pulled away before settling her face in his chest. George chuckled to himself before wrapping his arms completely on her waist, placing a sweet kiss on the top of her head.

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He said, pulling away to let her shake herself up as he held onto the piece of folded parchment which graced his face, giving it a small peck before putting it in his pocket, patting it three times.

"Better sign that drawing for me, Y/N. How much does an autograph cost?"

"Double the original price—?"

"And the tip?"

"And the tip."

#george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #oml this is long

634 notes · View notes