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girlactionfigure · 1 year

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It was a "small" act.

But, at the time, she didn’t realize she was making a life-changing, and life-saving decision, not only for her but for hundreds of Polish Jews during the Second World War, helping save them from Nazi execution.

Only when she died last year, on April 8, 2022, at the age of 107 did the rest of the world learn of her courage.

She was born Carmen Koppel in Vienna, daughter of Frieda and Emil Koppel. Her father, an opera-loving grain merchant, chose her name after Bizet’s Carmen,” according to The Guardian, “She studied languages at the University of Vienna, taking shorthand to help with her note-taking.”

She said “My mother had insisted that I learn something useful, so I learnt to type.”

“In 1936 she married Josef Weitmann, who owned a curtain-making business in Kraków, and the couple settled there and had a son, Sascha.

“After the German occupation of Poland in 1939, the administration wanted to re-establish Kraków as Krakau, a German city. As Jews, [she] and her husband were forced to live in the Kraków ghetto, established by the Nazis in 1940. Its inhabitants were allowed to leave and return only with special permits. Josef was killed while trying to escape; Sascha was smuggled to relatives in Hungary.”

According to the New York Times, “in late 1944, as a slave laborer in the administrative offices of the Plaszow concentration camp in Poland, [she] typed an important version of the manifest of prisoners bound for [a] munitions factory in the area of the Czech Republic then known as the Sudetenland.”

“It was in those offices” that she also added her name and the names of two friends to the list, indicating her profession as “schreibkraft,” according to writer Alex Mindlin.

By typing that list, she almost certainly saved her own life, the lives of her friends, and many others, according to Mindlin.

That “list” “saved them from the gas chambers of Auschwitz, where most of the other Jews from Plaszow were deported,” according to The Teller Report.

Years later after the war, she would meet again the man who had made that list possible, the man who employed her.

She had a different last name by this time, but he still remembered her by her nickname. [She never liked the name “Carmen”, so close friends referred to her after a character in “La Bohème”.]

'It must have been around 1953,” she said. “I had gone to Vienna and I was walking along a street with an uncle. We were passing a coffee house where there was a group of people sitting. This large man ran across and hugged and started kissing me, saying: ‘Mimi, Mimi…’

“It was then that I realised that it was Schindler sitting with some of the Jews he had rescued.”

“The documents that [Mimi Reinhardt] worked on were made famous by Thomas Keneally’s 1982 novel . . . and by the 1993 Steven Spielberg movie ["Schindler's List"], both of which detailed the extraordinary lengths to which [Oskar] Schindler went to save the lives of some 1,200 of his Jewish workers,” according to the Times.

Other sources cite the number of lives saved even higher. According to AFP (Agence France-Presse) and The Times of Israel, “The lists which Reinhardt compiled for [Schindler] helped save the lives of some 1,300 Jews at considerable risk to his own life.”

“Austrian-born Reinhardt (sometimes spelled “Reinhard), herself a Jew, was recruited by Schindler himself and worked for him until 1945.”

This is a new story for the Jon S. Randal Peace Page. The Peace Page focuses on past and present stories seldom told of lives forgotten, ignored, or dismissed. The stories are gathered from writers, journalists, and historians to share awareness and foster understanding, to bring people together. And, as such, the stories are never relegated to one single month - they are available all year in the Peace Page archives and on this page each week throughout the year. We encourage you to learn more about the individuals and events mentioned here and to support the writers, educators, and historians whose words we present. Thank you for being here and helping us share awareness.

~~~~~

Reinhardt, then known as Carmen Koppel, “survived the final liquidation of the Kraków ghetto in March 1943, when 2,000 Jews were slaughtered, because the Nazis deemed her language and secretarial skills useful,” according to The Guardian.

At the time, the Red Army was approaching Poland and workers in Plaszow were being sent west to death camps,” according to The New York Times.

Reinhardt was a “prisoner at a concentration camp near Krakow, Poland during WWII in 1944,” according to the World Jewish Congress, when Schindler recruited her for a job in the camp's administrative office.

“Schindler and his Jewish accountant Itzhak Stern, who had helped to motivate Schindler, prepared the 'list' of essential workers - all of them Jews - for relocation to his new factory,' according to writer Peter Beaumont.

As Schindler’s secretary, Reinhardt “drew up the lists of Jewish workers in the Polish city of Krakow to work in the factory of her German industrialist boss”, according to writer Caroline Frost.

“This was a highly risky enterprise but is estimated to have saved . . . [the] workers from deportation and almost certain death in Nazi concentration camps.”

Reinhardt also “added the names of friends and her own married names until Schindler's quota negotiated with the SS was fulfilled: "Weitmann, Carmen, January 15, 1915, typist" is number 279 on the list.

“The rescue almost went awry” according to The Teller Report.

“On the way to Brünnlitz in 1944, the train carrying Schindler’s workers was diverted to Auschwitz,” according to The Guardian. “Death seemed inevitable. But Schindler used his military intelligence contacts to stop the diversion, claiming that these workers were vital for his armaments factory.”

“They had to stay in Auschwitz for two weeks,” according to The Teller Report.

“Mimi Reinhardt later compared the time to Dante's ‘Inferno’.”

“At the war’s end, [Schindler’s] workers were liberated, and Mimi was reunited with Sascha.”

Reinhardt “settled for a time in Morocco and then New York, where she lived for 50 years,” according to The Guardian. “She kept in touch with other ‘Schindler Jews’ whose lives had been saved by escaping the Plaszów camp under Schindler’s protection, but did not speak publicly about her earlier life until she moved to Israel in 2007.”

In Israel, she joined “her only son, Sacha Weitman, who was then a professor of sociology at Tel Aviv University,” according to The Times of Israel.

Schindler died in 1974, when he “was named by Israel’s Yad Vashem Holocaust museum as a member of the ‘Righteous Among the Nations’, an honour for non-Jews who tried to save Jews from Nazi extermination,’ according to Frost. “He is buried on the Mount of Olives just outside Jerusalem.”

The story of Reinhardt’s “small act” came to light when she was being interviewed by the Jewish Agency for Israel. (Note, “Reinhardt wasn’t directly portrayed in the Schindler’s List film,” according to News18.)

Reinhardt “expressed regret that Mr. Schindler, whom she adored, did not become a household name until after his death in 1974,” wrote Mindlin.

“He would have loved it, the attention,” she said.

She added in another interview, "I saw a man who was constantly risking his life for what he was doing. He was human. He must have had a heart of gold."

Reinhardt spent her last years at a nursing home north of Tel Aviv.

She is “mourned by her son and his family, as well as the thousands of people whose parents and grandparents she helped escape certain death,” according to the Jerusalem Post.

She has three granddaughters, nine great-grandchildren and two great-great-grandchildren.

In the image attached, Sasha Weitman, son of Mimi Reinhardt, holds an old photograph of his mother in Herzliya, Israel, (AP Photo/Ariel Schalit).

Of her contribution to history and assisting Schindler in saving hundreds of her fellow Jews, Reinhardt said, “I was just typing the list.”

~ jsr

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

#WW2 #Shoah #schindler's list #Schindler’s secretary #Judaism #Mimi Reinhardt

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monalogs · 20 days

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Relax | Nyon

➷ Paring - Nyon x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - Drug use (weed), grinding, use of Russian words (translations provided at the end), making out, just Nyon being sweet :)

a/n - pumped this out in a few hours, i got too excited LOL. apologies for any mistakes. p.s can you tell i haven't smoked in literal years

You huff, finally completing cleaning the kitchen. It had been a long day in the Ivory household, well, for you at least. A bulk of the chores tended to fall on you and with the antics the house seemed to get into, they piled up quickly.

It was annoying for sure, you rarely got any help. Nyen was the type to add dishes to the sink while you were washing them, Luther was always busy with other things, Randal made most of the messes, and even and Sebastian barely took notice of your effort. You couldn't catch a break.

Well, except Nyon.

The quiet catman actually did assist you most days, much to your relief. You never asked him to, he just did. You really appreciated the silent connection you both had. With all the personality between these walls, when it came down to it, you both kept the most level heads. You're sure the house wouldn't function the same without that.

Which is why you are so frustrated today. You haven’t seen Nyon all day. Again, he wasn't obligated to help you per say, but he lived in this house just as much as you did. So why are you doing all the work?

Your back and feet ached terribly, and you still needed to do laundry. Groaning, you turn a corner when you bump into someone– Nyon, coincidentally.

Usually, you smile and try to small-talk him (despite his standoff behavior) but today, you are so irked you scoff and put down the full laundry basket on the ground. “Your clothes are in here, y’know.” Nyon watches you cross your arms.

His face is stoic, as usual. He stares at you while you stare back at him. It's awkward, and you realize how stupid it is to expect some response from him. You go to pick the basket up again when you feel him grab your shoulder. Looking up, you expect another stare, but he's sheepishly looking off to the side before muttering, “Come.”

Before you can ask, he's walking off, making you follow him. You realize you've walked into his room, where he shuts the door behind him. “Okay… what is it? I still have things to do, Nyon.”

You're still giving him that attitude and Nyon hates that. He didn't mean to be out all day, he wanted to surprise you with something. He knows how stressed you’ve been.

He motions you to sit on the messy bed with him, and despite your tone, you listen. “ Мне жаль, I know you are tired.” His accent is low and smooth, giving a weird butterfly feeling in your stomach you weren't used to. He didn't talk much, but was his voice always so… enticing?

Suddenly, all the peeves you had with him were gone. You shift on the bed as he continues, “I got us this.” He pulls out a zipped baggie and reaches in to reveal… a joint.

It’s silent for a second before you let out a laugh. “Really? You got us a joint?” You giggle as he rubs his neck, “We don’t need to do it if you don’t wish–” Cutting him off, you lean forward close to him, “Oh, no, we are. I fucking need this, light it.”

Nyon gulps to himself, when did it get warm in here? He quickly lights it per your request, making sure it's ready as he passes it to you. With a big inhale, the smoke fills your lungs– and you immediately cough it all out. Now, it's Nyon’s turn to let out a chuckle. It’s small, but it's enough to make you giggle too. You push his shoulder in a playful way, “Hey, it's been a while for me!”

He takes the lit joint from your hand while you still recover from the burn in your lungs. Swiftly, he takes a massive puff from the joint, and expertly keeps it down before he releases the smoke. Your jaw hangs, “So you do this often?” Nyon shows a small smirk, “Eh, time to time.”

Time passes and before long, the joint has been passed between you two enough for you to really start to feel it. Finally, you tap out and lay on the bed, satisfied with the fuzzy feeling going up and down your body. Nyon takes the joint, setting it aside on an ashtray.

You motion him to lay beside you, and he hesitates for a second before he does. A couple inches separate you both, in the low lighting you can see his glossy eyes gaze back at you. You don’t know what you are thinking before you inch closer to him, placing a hand on his face. “Don’t be nervous, relax.”

Nyon’s eyelids hang low, “Do you feel good?” You hum, “Yeah, really good.” Nyon’s chest is noticeably moving in and out as sweat builds on his temples. “Remember, this is to relax.” You try to remind him when he suddenly lets out a curse in Russian you don't understand. “It's hard– it's hard to. You're so close. I want you closer, любимая.” He speaks quickly and without a thought you pull him into a deep kiss.

After you both separate, you roll on top of him. Straddling his hips, you lean down and kiss him more. He seems to have found some confidence, placing his hands on your hips as your tongues interlock.

When you pull away, you see his half lidded eyes and flushed face. Slowly, you start to grind against his hardness, the hazy feeling in your head becomes stronger when you feel the warmth between your legs.

“родная, take off our clothes, yes?” You nod and he follows suit, both tugging at each other’s clothes in between kisses. Finally, you lay exposed on the bed with him hovering over you. Everything moves quickly, feeling Nyon’s warm length rubbing against you.

Your hands trace the firmness of his body, you hadn't realized how attractive the catman really was. Maybe it was the THC talking, but you can't help but wrap your legs around him and pitch.

“Please, Nyon–” He hushes you, grinding against your slick warmth, his breaths heavy as you feel his heart beat through his chest, “Relax, любимая.”

You whine and pull him closer, “Don’t tease!” You're sure he can see the desire in your red eyes, pleading with him to just sink in. He pushes himself closer to you and aligns himself, kissing your neck before he murmurs, “Okay, okay.” How could he ever deny you?

He finally thrusts in, slowly, inch by inch before he completely fills you. Both of you have a groan escape your mouths. Nyon almost feels like he's about to burst right then, the sensation is so clear and strong. You feel heavenly, better than he ever used to imagine. He keeps himself from thrusting too hard, instead choosing to pace himself so he can savor this moment with you. You sound so beautiful, look so beautiful, staring at him with those glossy lidded eyes. He wants to make sure you feel every inch of him.

“So sweet, (Y/N). So sweet and perfect, только для меня” His kisses trail down your neck, meeting your collar bone, leaving hickies. Your moans fill the room, not even realizing how loud you are being, fully focusing on the heat consuming your body. “Cute sounds.” Nyon says through passionate huffs. He appreciates his silence typically; himself barely letting out any noises, but he wants to hear it all from you, every whine and moan.

It isn't long before your moans turn into whines, reaching your tipping point when Nyon hits that spot that makes you tighten around him over and over again. “You want to come?” You nod and wrap around him closer, “Yes, yes– Don’t stop!” Nyon listens, pistoning in and out with such intensity you swear you see stars. Finally, you cross your legs behind Nyon’s back, arching your back as you come undone around him.

Soon, Nyon can’t keep himself together when the sensation of your tightness becomes too much. “Ебать–” He pulls himself out and shoots white all over your heaving stomach. It’s a lot , how long has he been holding this in? He slouches over you, observing your sweaty face, “Sorry, mess.”

You shush him, pulling him to lay next to you once again. “No, no, don't worry. It was amazing.” You giggle, still feeling the high linger on your body. It’s less intense, now you just feel tired.

Nyon shows you a small smile as you wrap your arms across his waist, big spooning him.

“I like you.” Nyon admits, letting go of a weight on his chest he had been holding for a while now. He feels like he's about to melt, it's like he didn't just fuck you, instead it's as if he’s a school girl confessing under a cherry tree.

He slowly turns his head to look at you, meeting your gaze. It's silent for a second, then you kiss his nose, “I do too.”

…

“I am hard again.”

Мне жаль - I'm sorry

любимая - darling

родная - dear

только для меня - only for me

Ебать - fuck

I apologize if anything is inaccurate! I used google translate. If anyone who knows Russian sees any mistakes, please tell me and I will fix them :)

#nyon x reader #nyon catman #ranfren #nyon ranfren #x reader #cw drug use #WEED #dark blog

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d1xonss · 4 months

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Desert Rose

Chapter 21 ~ Randall

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 2

✧ Word Count : 4.1k

In this chapter ~ The entire group is relieved beyond repair when Rick and the others finally return after bringing Hershel back from the small town. Although they also bring back quite the unexpected guest, leading the others into a spiral of different opinions as they figure out what to do with him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ROSE POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My eyes groggily and slowly opened the next morning, and everything that happened yesterday rushed back to me all at once. I couldn't help but smile to myself about everything that happened with Daryl, it almost didn't feel real and a part of me questioned if I dreamt it. But my smile faltered when I looked over and saw he wasn't there, up bright and early as per usual.

I sighed and sat up, quickly changing my clothes and walked out of the tent, looking out to see everyone was gathered around talking near the front of the gates, and I noticed quickly the guys still weren't back yet. Concern and worry pooled at the pit of my stomach, thinking what the hell could be taking them this long to come back. It couldn't have meant anything good, and by the looks of it, everyone was saying and voicing everything I was thinking.

I slowly began to make my way up to them upon hearing enough from a distance, the rest of them too into the conversation to even notice my sudden presence. They were going back and forth about who should go after them since Shane apparently didn't step up and go like he said he was going to. At this point to me I didn't matter who left, just someone needed to.

Listening to them argue constantly about the same thing over and over again for hours, it was starting to get under my skin. I would be more than happy to step up and take a car out to find them considering Lori couldn't even handle that. It really didn't have to be this difficult, though they couldn't seem to make up their minds about what we were supposed to do.

"Sorry I didn't wake ya up."

I jumped a bit at the sudden quiet voice coming from behind me, only turning my head over my shoulder to see Daryl smiling down at me with a certain glint in his eyes. Safe to say that it truly wasn't a dream.

A small smile made its way onto my lips as my head turned back towards the others, "Yeah, what the hell?" I quietly replied.

He scoffed, not doubt rolling his eyes, "Ya looked tired, ya needed the extra hour. Yer welcome."

"Thank you." I said, turning back around momentarily to send him a wink.

But my head whipped back around in a split second when I heard the sound of a car coming up the dirt road and heading straight towards the farm, pushing through the gates. A red and unrecognizable car pulled up onto the land, everyone squinting their eyes to try and see inside if it was the men we were talking about this very moment. But the second Rick stepped out of the driver's seat, the group collectively relaxed seeing that they were okay.

Relief washed over me quickly once I saw Glenn and Hershel step out as well, not having a single scratch on them. With so many things happening in the last few hours, I forgot how long they were actually gone. How long they were out there facing God only knows what that was keeping them from coming back all night.

Lori and Carl quickly rushed over to Rick, while Maggie ran up to her dad and practically tackled him in a hug, leaving Glenn just standing there with his hands in his pockets. I couldn't stay in place even if I wanted to, instinctively walking over towards him in a flash before I was bringing him into a tight hug as well.

"Hey." I breathed, "Are you okay?"

He only squeezed me tighter, "I'm okay." he whispered, his voice coming out more drained and tired than normal, but I believed him.

I hadn't realized how much I had missed him until he was actually here again, seemingly safe and back with everyone else. My eyes then looked back up, spotting Maggie over his shoulder with her saddened eyes looking directly at the two of us which caused me to smile and let him go. I nodded towards the woman and Glenn turned around just in time to see her crashing into his arms as she cried.

My feet took a few steps backwards, watching the couple reunite while everyone else around us made sure that all the guys were really okay, somewhat expecting an explanation. I was lost in my own mind for a moment or two, before I felt a presence next to me, turning to see Rick seeming to be doing the same thing I was.

I nudged his side, "Good to have you back."

He smiled warmly at me, "It's good to be back." he said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

I smiled back up at him, before Hershel's voice suddenly called out towards the house, "Patricia, prepare everything for surgery." he spoke urgently.

"Are you hurt?" Lori asked as her eyes scanned Rick for anything serious.

He opened his mouth to respond, to try and explain himself and what happened, but T-Dog's voice cut through whatever he was trying to say, "Who the hell is that?" the man asked.

"That's Randall." Glenn muttered, gesturing back towards the car.

My eyes snapped over to him in shock, walking up closer to the vehicle to see a strange man in the backseat, a bandanna tied tightly over his eyes while his wrists were bound as well. His breathing was heavy as he stayed perfectly still against the seats, but I couldn't have been more shocked. I was absolutely blown away as to why the hell they thought it was okay to bring a stranger back here, but before I could mutter a word, I felt my arm being pulled back.

I turned and saw Daryl trying to lead me away further from the car door, wanting me far away from this guy, and I let him. I couldn't lie; I was angry. Frustrated at the fact that they thought it was perfectly okay to bring someone back here when they didn't know shit about what he was capable of. I didn't care that he was hurt, or that he needed help, we didn't know him at all and that should've been enough.

A few hours had passed and right now we were all waiting inside the house for Hershel to come back in and tell us how the surgery went. They had at least a somewhat steady head on their shoulders as they thought it was a good idea to keep him locked in the shed. But that didn't make the rest of us feel any safer.

We went back and forth about why they brought him back here for a while, and to say Shane was pissed about it would be an understatement. It was like a never-ending cycle. We would argue about it, silence, then we would start arguing again. Right now it was quiet, and I was just looking around at their faces, waiting for someone else to say something else. But based on the story that the guys told us, I think they should've left him.

Some random guys had apparently showed up to the bar Hershel was holed up at, talking to them for a while casually like they were old friends. But that didn't last long as they starting demanding to be brought back here to this farm with their group, wanting a safe place to stay. But with the way they were acting, they couldn't be trusted. Rick ended up having to kill them after they pulled out their weapons first, knowing that he would rather have them die then Hershel and Glenn.

But then their group suddenly showed up to the bar, looking around for their two missing guys. It ended up being a huge face off, shooting at each other endlessly before walkers eventually heard the bullets flying around, causing them all to flee. But there was one man that got injured, landing right down on a sharp fence as he tried to leap off of the building he was on top of. And his group left him behind, causing our guys to go and save his ass.

And now here we are.

From just the story alone, the little pieces of information, I already didn't trust him at all. Hell, none of us even knew if he was going to make it because of the severe injury on his leg. I know my thoughts were cruel for a human being, but his group sounded dangerous.

Rick sighed at the silence, speaking up after what felt like hours, "He would've bled out, if he lived that long."

"What do we do with him?" Andrea asked.

Rick's response to her was cut short when we heard the back door opening, Hershel appearing into the dining room as he cleaned his hands, "I repaired his calf muscle as best as I could, but he'll probably have nerve damage." he informed.

"When he's back on his feet, we give him some supplies, take him out to the main road and send him on his way." Rick stated.

My brows furrowed in confusion, "Then why did you bring him back? If you planned on ditching him anyway in the end, why go through all the trouble?" I asked.

"Because this way it'll give him a fighting chance." Rick responded.

Shane scoffed from where he stood, "We're just gonna let him go? He knows where we are."

"He was blindfolded the whole way here, he's not a threat." Rick replied.

"Not a threat... how many were there? You killed three of their men, took one of them hostage, and they just ain't gonna come looking for them?" Shane asked with edge to his tone.

My leg began to bounce anxiously from under the table, somehow not even thinking of the possibility of his group finding us, or him running off back to them. Well...limping off back to them I suppose. But I was worried about Carl and Beth's safety the most out of everyone, and now Lori since she was carrying another life right along with hers. We had to be more careful about this instead of just dropping him off carelessly somewhere with the risk of him coming back.

"His group left him for dead, no one is looking." Rick started to raise his voice, arguing again.

T-Dog then stepped in, "We should still post a guard." he said matter-of-factly.

"He's out cold right now, will be for hours." Hershel stated.

Shane huffed as he shook his head, pushing himself off the wall to walk out of the room, "Y'know I'm just gonna go get us some flowers and candy. Look at this folks, we're back in fantasy land." he sarcastically said.

Hershel watched him walk away before stepping up right as he was about to leave the house, "You know we haven't even dealt with what you did to my barn yet." he voiced loudly, "Let me make this perfectly clear once and for all. This is my farm, now I wanted you gone but Rick talked me out of it, that doesn't mean I have to like it. So do us both a favor, and keep your mouth shut."

Wow, go Hershel. Shane just stood there for a moment glancing back at everyone, before sighing heavily and making his dramatic exit, slamming the door shut behind him. Hershel turned back after he was long gone and made eye contact with me. I gave him an impressed look, raising my hand to give him a subtle thumbs up, to which he smiled small in return.

"Look, we aren't going to do anything about it today, let's just cool off." Rick spoke, now finding the urge to leave right along with him.

The rest of us then started to leave without another word, slowly getting up from their chairs. I didn't want to just continue to brush this off forever, but it seemed as though everyone was done with discussing it for now with how frustrated we all became. So, I began to slowly follow everyone's lead, pushing my chair out and heading out of the room to go upstairs and check on Beth. I hadn't seen her or heard how she was doing since yesterday, and I wanted to make sure she had been doing okay since then.

Her door was open when I approached it, causing me to slowly peek inside to see her laying down on her bed with a far off look in her eye. I stood in the doorway for a moment, before eventually pushing myself forward and taking a seat at the end of her bed. My eyebrows pulled together in obvious worry, seeing her not moving an inch as she stared up at the ceiling, not even acknowledging my presence.

"Hey hon." I greeted, managing a small smile as I gently reached over to grasp her hand. She didn't take it, but she also didn't pull away.

A few minutes ticked by silently like that, with her not saying a thing even though she was much more aware of things than she was yesterday. I could easily tell she had a lot on her mind, her mind running constantly as she didn't even feel the need to talk. I wanted her to be okay, but I also didn't want to bother her if she just wanted to be alone right now, I understood that. But I also wanted her to know that I would be right her for her if she needed me.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll come back later, yeah?" I asked.

Upon hearing me say that, her eyes slowly looked towards me, still not saying a word though she gave my hand a squeeze. That's all I needed to see to know she wanted me to come back, silently telling me without having to utter a word. I gave her hand a small squeeze in return before I slowly stood back up, leaving her alone as I shut the door a crack behind me.

I walked out of the house and towards the tent to grab my sketchbook from the bag I still had yet to unpack. I figured now would be a good time to try and finish the painting of the house since everyone else was just doing their own thing for the rest of the day, avoiding the problem that still laid in the shed. I began to work as soon as I found the same spot I had sat in only a few days ago, picking up where I left off, focusing on the small details in the house that some people might miss when they first look at it. I wanted to be able to capture it as well as I could.

Lost in thought, I didn't even hear someone walking up to me until they sat themselves down right in the space next to me. I looked over to see Glenn situating himself, waiting for him to say something, but instead he just stayed silent. My mind didn't linger on it for very long before I accepted his silent presence, going back to painting only a few seconds later.

I could easily see that he was stressed about the stranger just beyond the field, locked in the shed, worried about what the outcome would be in the end. And I understood completely that sometimes you just needed someone beside you for comfort when thinking about something stressful like this. I guess in a way, I needed him too.

Though after about an hour, we were still sitting there in silence, and I was almost done with it for the day and coming to a good place to stop. I wordlessly showed Glenn my progress and he took the sketchbook in his hands, taking his time looking over at all of the details as his eyes scanned rapidly over the paper. A smile spread onto his face that I couldn't help but beam at as he admired my work. He handed it back over to me once he was done and I just silently got up after that, placing a hand on his back as I moved around him, heading back over to Daryl and I's shared tent.

It honestly took everything in me not to tell Glenn about Daryl and I, feeling as if it was somehow wrong to keep it hidden from him. Though that statement alone just made me realize more that he truly was my best friend, because I physically couldn't keep secrets from him. But it wasn't just my privacy, it was Daryl's too. Not only that, but it was his request that we only keep it between us for now, knowing how nosy the people in this group could be. And that's what made me bite my tongue.

As I entered the small space to put everything away, I noticed that he wasn't sitting in there like I assumed he would be. My brows furrowed in confusion that I hadn't really seen him all day other than the little meeting we had in the dining room. But that only made me want to go out and find him, my boredom only growing once I was creatively burnt out for the day.

So I left the tent only seconds later, zipping it back up to close the small space before I turned around and ran right into the person suddenly standing behind me. Speak of the devil.

Daryl stood tall as he looked down at me with a soft smile, stepping back a step or two once he noticed how close he truly was.

"Hey." I breathed, "I was actually just about to come look for you."

"Weird, I was actually lookin for ya too." he smirked, "Wanted to see if you wanted to come on a hunt with me."

I felt my eyes light up a little more at the idea as I nodded my head. "Yeah, I'd love to."

His smile only grew as he nodded towards the trees, "Alright, come on."

We gathered our weapons and walked into the forest, both of us had our eyes on the ground looking for tracks. I was really hoping that we would start to see some deer tracks, and not just come back with a bunch of squirrels like always, but that was wishful thinking. We hadn't seen any type of bigger animal since we stepped foot onto Hershel's land.

"Ya ever learn how to shoot one of these?"

I looked over my shoulder to see Daryl holding up his crossbow, and I only smiled with a shake of my head, "No I haven't. I always kind of wanted to have a bow, but I never got a chance to learn or anything."

He then moved over to me and hovered the crossbow over my hands, barely brushing my fingertips against it. Right as I was about to question what he was doing, he finally placed it down in my hands, jerking down a little because of how heavy the thing actually was. Cursing under my breath, I adjusted the weapon in my hands before looking back up at him with raised brows.

"I said I didn't know how to shoot one." I clarified, "And damn no wonder your arms are huge, this thing is like a tank."

He raised his eyebrows at me in amusement, "Ya think my arms are huge?" he asked, his face flushed slightly.

My eyes narrowed at him, "Don't pretend like you're not aware. Everything you own is sleeveless."

He scoffed and just shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest when I attempted to hand the weapon right back to him, "I'll teach ya right now. Just gotta find ya a target."

I hummed, "Okay." I agreed as we began walking again, "But let's start simple, I don't want to throw my back out with this thing."

He chuckled quietly to himself, "Fair enough."

We didn't have to walk very far before we found a tree that looked to be good enough to practice on, thinner, a harder target yet something that wasn't moving. Handing the weapon back to Daryl so he could actually load the damn thing, I took it back in my hands and tried to steady myself with the extra weight. But apparently it was obvious I was having trouble.

My hands slightly shook as I tried to hold it up towards my eye to actually aim correctly, but then suddenly the weight wasn't an issue anymore. Daryl silently came up behind me as he noticed me struggle, placing his hands over mine to take some of the heaviness away as he fixed my stance. He got down to my level, his face just inches away from my neck as he tried to instruct me.

"Alright, yer gonna want to aim a bit to the right." his voice echoed by my ear.

Instant chills ran down my spine when he said that, his deep voice being the only thing I could hear other than my heart beating wildly in my chest. He was so close and that smug bastard knew exactly what he was doing. I almost wanted to kick myself for allowing him to teach me the thing he knew best, because I should've known he would've pulled something like this. Ceasing the opportunity.

But I didn't move the crossbow like he instructed, only turning my head slightly to the left to look him in the eye. Our faces were inches apart, out noses barely brushing against each other and a noticeable smirk started to grow on his face.

"So, when you said you wanted to teach me...was it so you could be this close to me?" I asked him with a tilt of my head.

His eyes flickered to my lips for a second before saying, "Nah, there's another reason."

"So, what's the reason?"

He was silent for a long moment, racking his brain for another excuse as he slowly became more flustered at the situation he put himself in. It was amusing to watch, seeing him not being able to come up with a single explanation as his mind only really wanted on thing.

"If you wanted to kiss me...all you had to do was ask." I whispered against his lips, finally closing the space between us.

The moment I felt him kiss me back, I immediately discarded the crossbow and I tossed it to the ground. My hands found the way to his neck, while his fingers hooked onto the loops of my jeans, pulling me closer. Our lips moved in sync so effortlessly, his tongue slowly pushing its way into my mouth.

He began to push me up against the tree gently and his hands made their way to my lower back, the warmth sending goosebumps rising on my skin in seconds. I finally couldn't take it anymore and I pulled back, needing air. We both were trying to catch our breath, when I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me with the same damn smirk on his face.

"What?" I asked.

"I thought of another reason. If yer back was against the wall and ya only had a crossbow to protect yerself with, ya already know how to use it." he said matter-of-factly.

I scrunched up my nose as I thought for a moment, "Four out of ten." I rated.

He chuckled, placing his forehead against mine, "At least I tried." he muttered, "Do I get a prize for tryin?"

I laughed lightly and pulled him back in for another kiss. This one was much softer and shorter, but just as amazing nonetheless. I pulled away to glance up at his bright beautiful eyes for a moment, before he pecked my lips once more and pulled away fully. He walked back over, picking up his crossbow from where it had fallen in the leaves and looked at me expectantly.

"Still wanna learn?" he asked smugly.

I rolled my eyes, "Yes." I said before following his lead.

Then the next few hours were filled with us talking, laughing, and sharing a few kisses here and there. It was nice to be able to just be with each other like this, away from the chaos back at the farm, and away from the stranger left in the shed. I really appreciated Daryl taking me out on this hunt because it was a good distraction from just everything going on.

But to my surprise, he admitted a little later on that the whole reason he took me out here was because he knew I was stressed about the whole Randall situation, and wanted to be able to take my mind off of it for a few hours. My heart warmed almost instantly when he told me that, looking at him in almost a new light as I admired him.

What I felt for this man, I had never felt for anyone else before, and I really liked it.

~ Thanks for reading!

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80s4life · 2 years

Text

Some Kind Of Wonderful

Word Count: 2,220

Status: Requested!

Ask: Hiii can you do anything for Randall Pink Floyd

@: a very interesting anon that loves forgotten movies like me! (seriously, Dazed and Confused doesn’t get enough attention)

Fandom: Dazed And Confused 1993

Relationship: Randall “Pink” Floyd x Reader

Summary: Time’s slowly running out and the dangers of adulthood are starting to near too quickly. When finishing off the last year of high school starts to truly seep into your bones, you realize someone’s wasting a gift you simply couldn’t just be handed.

Warnings: explicit language, sexual jokes, weed, alcohol, weed and alcohol consumption, underage drinking/smoking/partying

Masterlist Dazed And Confused Masterlist

{gif is not mine, credits go to @dazed--and--confused}

Heaving yourself over the chain link fence, Slater is quick to clumsily follow behind. Giggling, you drop down drunkenly, scrambling to your feet to help Slater carefully tumble over the other side.

“I got it. I got it,” he smiles, using your shoulders as support as he tries to stand on the flimsy wraps of metal without anything to hold onto. “Alright, go away.”

Stepping back as he had asked, it takes all about ten seconds before he’s colliding with the ground with a hard thud. You try your best to stay quiet, but the groans that follow soon after cause you to explode. As best as you can manage, you wheeze while taking his hand and lifting him up, “Don’t got it.”

“Hey, I was up there for a long time! Try beating that!”

“Nah, I’d rather keep my head in tact,” you slur, handing him the indiscreet bottle wrapped inside a paper bag.

He happily obliges, eyes quickly being entertained with holding the bottle without spilling, your eyes scanning the field to find the rest of the gang. Just along the other side of the football field, the familiar cackling of young teens tells you that you guys showed up too late.

“Hey, there they are!” you can hear Don shouting, voice echoing throughout the stands and bleachers.

Shoving Slater, you guys fall into a not-so-sturdy race, feet flying about and hands scattered in all directions to prevent falling on your faces again. The group, staring at your liquid-enhanced happiness, laugh as they decide to move towards the center of the field.

Sucking in greedy breaths of air, you both go tumbling into the grass before the group. Slater rolls into Pink and Simone while you crash into Don’s awaiting arms.

“Perfect landing,” he grins into your ear, making sure to leave a teasing nibble on the lobe, eyes digging straight into the particularly long haired brunette across from him.

“Shut up,” you groan, lifting off of him to sit cross-legged besides Slater once more.

For some time, you indulge in the adventures of David Wooderson; the many women he’s been with, the crazy shit he got himself into and how he got out of it, the places he’s been. Although they were bizarre, they kept the group entertained through their buzzed hazes, laughing and giggling at every punch line.

Laying across Slater’s thighs, you support your head with both of your crossed arms. Beside you, Slater takes turns in passing the joint between you both, one arm supporting his own head as he stares up at the stars.

The group had fallen in a comfortable silence, indulging in the short-lived peace that is soon to be destroyed as the morning light comes up. Slowly, with the peaking sun just above the treeline, Shavonne and Simone make their exit through the front gate of the school’s football stadium.

You sadly let them go, knowing that senior year is just about over for you, hugging them as they depart. Wooderson is next to leave, still tipsy over last night’s drinks, he comfortably grabs the bottle of tequila he was nursing, leaving before the cops have a chance to get him.

Watching the clouds turn a deep shade of orange like gold, you, Slater, and Pink all sit up side by side to watch the end of the show.

“Hey man...woman....this isn’t the end of us, is it?” Slater slurs, turning briefly to look the each of you in the eye.

“Hell no!” you yell, looking at him as if he’s crazy, “You’re my best friend, Slater, my partner in crime. I’m not done with you yet.”

He smiles at the drastic bit of reassurance, sharing a look of fond companionship. Swiftly, the both of you nudge shoulders and turn towards Pink, expectant eyes waiting for his answer that didn’t come as naturally as it should’ve.

He looks Slater in the eyes, then they slip to yours in a sense of regret and premature sadness. Sighing, he blows, “I don’t known, man. We hung out with each other because we were stuck with each other. Now we have no reason to be around - hang out like we used to. We aren’t kids anymore, we’re adults about to enter the big, wide world we’ve been dying for. Who knows what the next year or two will take us.”

“That’s why we make sure it doesn’t happen,” you counter, staring off at the sky again.

“And how can you ensure that, Y/N?” Pink asks with a defensiveness you aren’t quite used to hearing.

“Because,” you snap your head towards him sharply, “If we want to be in each other’s lives, we’ll make damn sure that we stick around.” Your eyes, stern and soft at the same time, bore into his own with and intensity and determination set.

Neither Pink nor Slater argue you, Pink still staring at you with disbelief and no change in his thoughts. He doesn’t believe you, not completely.

“Pink,” you try to compose yourself, setting your voice to a lighter tone to avoid further argument. “If you’re friends and truly scared of losing them, the love and bond you share should say enough. You don’t just fucking disappear on your own, you’ll let that shit happen and you’ll know you’re doing it, too. We’ve lost a lot of good friends, but they weren’t built to last. Our friendship, well, it’ll last a lifetime.”

Slater pulls you in by your shoulder, side hugging you with a warm, kooked-out smile, “Yeah man. Even our kids will be friends.”

You laugh at that, looking back at Pink, his head down and hands playing with the grass. “I don’t know,” his voice cracks a bit.

Looking back at Slater, he nods, whispering in your ear, “Tell him Y/N, you’ve got nothing to lose. He needs you.” You smile at his unnatural encouragement, he’s always good at finding the right words, as rare as they come. Getting up from the grass and waving his goodbye, he winks at you, going back through the woods in which you came silently.

“Pink,” you mumble, shuffling closer to him and placing a hand underneath his head, pulling him up to look at you by his chin. When he looks up, his eyes are glossy and threatening to break down at any moment, softening as you look at him. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, you hear me?”

“I just don’t want to lose us,” he chokes, a tear sneaking past him before he could wipe it away.

“We won’t. We- I-,” you stutter to find the words. You know what you want to tell him, but you don’t know how to - too scared of the possibility of rejection. “I love you, Pink, always have, always will. I’ve stuck around this long without an inch of expectation from you, what makes you think it’ll change now? You’re gonna go places, Pink, but don’t think I won’t be too far behind you, making sure you get just where you need to be.”

For once, he smiles at you, a glossy wet smile that cracks through the shadows of doubt swirling in his head. “You’re talking about the pledge, aren’t you.”

“Oh, you’re signing that pledge, don’t get me wrong, but no, I’m talking about anywhere and wherever you go. You don’t have to be this huge NFL football player for me to love you just the same, you’re always gonna be Pink from Lee High School in good, old Austin, Texas, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he smirks, looking down at the grass again.

“Hey,” you pull his head up again, “I’m serious, Pink.”

“I know,” he mumbles, “Just scared for our futures, you know? I don’t know where I’m going yet.”

“And you’re not gonna know for a long time, you’re still in high school. You’ll figure life out just like the rest of us, you just have to get through the last year of high school. Shit, I mean, I don’t even know what the fuck to do with myself yet and I just graduated.”

He laughs at that, smiling wide for you to see as he gives you a once over, “You’re gonna do just fine, Y/N. You always get your shit together. You have nothing to worried about.”

“Neither do you,” your smirk, poking his arm.

You guys fall into a comfortable silence for a moment or two, riddled with your own thoughts before Pink speaks up again, “So, you love me, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” your face heats up, this time being the one to look at the grass for answers. “I knew you’d pick that up.”

“How could I not, it was such a beautiful speech, really made me tear up.”

You laugh at him, shoving his shoulder as you get back up on your feet. Outstretching your hand, Pink takes it, frame towering over yours with his natural height and intensity.

Slowly, you guys make your way to the front gate of the football field. There, you find Slater, stomping out his half-smoked joint just as Coach Bronco emerges from the parking lot, holding a finger up to his lips with a smile.

“Ah, Randy,” Bronco chirps, acting as if he hadn’t been waiting for a while, “You sign that pledge yet?”

“Actually,” you step before him, “He was just going to sign it now, do you have a pen?” You smile nice a sweet, Bronco pulling out a pen and handing it to you. “Oh, and we kind of lost the paper,” you smirk innocently, “You know, with the parties and stuff tonight, it got lost.”

“Oh sure, I’ve got a copy,” he runs back to his car to fetch another paper.

Pink elbows you in the side and you turn to smile devilishly at him, “You’ve got a gift, I’m not going to stand by and watch you spoil it, Pink.”

“Here you are,” Coach Bronco smiles.

“Thank you,” you take it from him, handing it over to Pink and turning around, offering your back for him to use to sign it. Begrudgingly he does as you’d silently instructed, signing the paper and handing it back.

“Thanks Randy, we look forward to seeing you next year. Don’t get soft on us,” then Bronco leans in, whispering something you can’t quite make out, turning to sneak a peak at Slater, hiding in the bushes. “And don’t let that one go, that one knows what they’re talking about. A good influence...special.”

“Alright! Thanks Coach, I’ll see you next year,” Pink exclaims, motioning towards his want for Bronco to leave.

“Thanks Coach B, he’ll be back better than ever. You just wait!”

“I hope so,” and with that, Bronco leaves seemingly happy with the outcome.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not smoking this summer,” Pink mutters.

“All you had to do was sign it, now you’re free,” you smile. “Come on, lets go home, we need to sleep at some point.”

Waving at Slater, he comes bounding out of the bushes again, a tipsy smile on his face. “Does that mean I have to find a new smoking buddy?”

“Nah, I’m not done yet,” Pink smirks.

“Hey, I thought I was your smoking buddy?” you punch Slater’s arm.

“Ow!” he exclaims dramatically. “You are my smoking best friend,” he corrects.

“So, I’m more special then?”

“Sure,” he smirks.

Walking down the parking lot, you part ways, hugging Pink before you turn back to Slater, wrapping your arm around his waist due to his height. Pink goes the other direction with a giggle, watching as Slater puts all of his weight onto you, wobbling down the road.

Before he turns the corner, Pink calls out, “Oh, and Y/N?!”

Turning around, you look back at him, “Yeah?”

“I love you, too!”

Confusion laces your features as quickly as his blow, looking up at Slater to make sure you heard it right. Slater looks down at you, eyebrows raised with a shrug. Turning back to Pink, a huge smile breaks across your face.

Down the road, Pink smiles back with a red hue to his cheeks, “Did you hear me?”

Suddenly, you let go of Slater and bound towards Pink, almost tackling him as you jump on him. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he chuckles loud, smirking down at you as he places a kiss to your nose.

“Are you serious?” you ask, looking up at him with bewilderment.

“Well, you didn’t really give me a chance to say it back, did you?”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“Do I need to say it again?”

“For clarification purposes, please?”

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. I have since we were Freshmen.”

Turning around, you give Slater a double thumbs up, him smiling and imitating a gagging motion. “I love you, too, Randall Floyd.”

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starryevermore · 2 years

Text

do not chastise the dove (14) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you.

chapter summary: the king is exposed, the future is considered, and the past is revealed.

word count: 4,582

warnings?: inaccurate depiction of legal proceedings, fluff, a little angsty, discussion of randall + wendy, discussion of did, pet name (dove)

If Kieran wasn’t telling the truth, Jake was going to kill him. He didn’t care that Kieran was your brother (and he supposed you didn’t care much, either). Jake couldn’t stand the idea that you might get hurt again. That Kieran might have been misleading you. That Kieran was trying to build your hopes up just so he may tear them all down again. Jake said as much to you.

After Kieran left and Steven let Jake front while he tried to calm down, Jake couldn’t stop himself from declaring a string of threats toward Kieran. But when he saw the look in your eye as you stared at the door, he stopped. You wouldn’t say it—perhaps you couldn’t—but you wanted to believe that Kieran had a change of heart. So, Jake took you in his arms and squeezed you tight and said nothing. Words, he realized, wouldn’t be enough to comfort you at the moment.

Now, as he watched Kieran approach the bench, Jake wished he could hold you like that again. Instead, he settled for taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “You’ll be okay, my dove,” Jake said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I want to be more than okay,” you whispered back. “I want to be safe.”

Sam banged his gavel, calling the hearing into order. “Thank you all for coming to the second day of this hearing on whether His Majesty, King Benjamin should be removed from the throne. We begin today with hearing from Kieran Y/L/N,” Sam said. He looked to Kieran. “Please state your name and occupation for the record.”

Kieran cleared his throat. “My name is Kieran Y/L/N. My occupation is…Well, it’s complicated. For the last twenty-nine years, I thought that I was a prince, that I would be King and I acted as such. In recent weeks…I suppose I’ve just been a son. I’ve just been a brother. Not a good one, either. Not a good brother, I mean.”

“Could you explain that last statement?” Natasha Romanoff asked.

Kieran nodded. “When I thought I was a prince, I looked up to my father. I wanted to be just like him. Where he moved, I followed. And when he thought Y/N was an embarrassment to the Crown, I echoed his concerns. It wasn’t until Y/N was poisoned that I realized I was wrong to follow him.”

“You say you looked up to the King and followed his every move. I would imagine that means he let you be privy to information he prefers to keep close to his chest,” Monica said. “Is that a correct presumption?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kieran said. “He was raising me to be King. In order to be an effective King in the future, it helped to see how the current King worked. I got to see and hear a lot of things that no one else, save for his advisor Arthur Harrow, got to see and hear.”

“Then did he confess to you that he was behind the poisoning of the princess?” Monica asked.

“Not in so many words, ma’am,” Kieran said. “That night, after everyone had left, I was going to his office, my father’s office, because I was concerned if someone was threatening us. I wanted to know if this was something we should be concerned about. When I reached his office, I heard him talking with Harrow. My father had commended Harrow on the wine served. My sister…She hated wine. Her birthday ball is the only event where she was allowed to dictate what drinks were served. My father usually abided by that. This time, he didn’t. So, no, he didn’t tell me that he was behind the poisoning, but if the wine he had Harrow serve was the one thing my sister wasn’t controlling, I could only imagine that he was the one behind her poisoning. He didn’t say a word, though, andI don’t imagine he ever planned to. But then Y/N recovered, and she revealed to the kingdom that I am not the heir to the throne. After that, he…he became more willing to let me know about the plot to…get rid of her.”

“By get rid of her, you mean that the King planned to have the princess, the true heir to the throne, killed?” Wanda asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kieran confirmed.

“The princess’s poisoning was not the only attempt on her life,” Sam said. “Not long after the incident at the ball and the subsequent reveal that you were not the legitimate heir to the throne, the guard the Parliament assigned to her was attacked and another man posed as the guard. He then kidnapped the princess while her guard was down and took her away from the city where she was tortured. Had it not been for her fiancés efforts, she might no longer be with us.”

Your nails bit into the skin of Jake’s hand. He was almost certain that he was going to bleed. Jake peered at you, trying to get a read of your face, but you appeared unemotional. But he could see the pain in your eyes. It hadn’t been very long since you were saved. The wounds were still fresh.

“Are you to suggest, then,” Sam continued, “that the King was also behind this?”

“Yes, sir,” Kieran said. “I wasn’t privy to the information at the time she was kidnapped. My father thought I was on his side. I suppose he believed I was upset over being outed as a bastard to the entire kingdom. To be fair, I was. But none of that anger was ever directed at my sister. She was only doing what she thought was right—she did what was right. I might have preferred her to let me know before going on national television, but she thought I was still against her, like I always had been. I don’t blame her, or hate her, for any action she has taken. Still, because of my past actions, my father thought I was on his side. So, when I saw the headline that my sister was missing, I had an inkling that, if I asked, he might tell the truth.”

“What did the King say?” Wanda asked.

“I think it’s better that you hear it from the King himself,” Kieran said, raising a CD. “My father’s not the only one who’s familiar with the kingdom’s laws. Knowing that the information was invaluable, I recorded our conversation.”

One of the guards standing by came forward and took the CD from Kieran. Another guard wheeled out a stereo system and inserted the CD. Jake took a moment to look at Benjamin, and he reveled in the look on his face. Oh, Jake was sure Benjamin’s head was about to explode from how angry he was. Good. He deserved it.

The guard pressed play, and the sound echoed through the room—

“Father, have you seen the news?”

“There’s a lot of things on the news,” Benjamin replied. There was a rustling of papers in the background. “Care to be more specific? You know a future King must always use specificity in his language.”

“Y/N has gone missing. They’re saying she’s been kidnapped.”

It sounded like Benjamin let out a snort of a laugh. “Oh, I’ve seen that. Why do you ask?”

There was a pause. “Well, she embarrassed us. I figured you might take some action against her, and I…I want to be able to keep our stories straight. In case someone asks us if we were involved, I mean. I…What I mean to ask is, were you involved in this?”

“The Parliament is made up of a bunch of fools. They’ll never be able to pin this on us, no matter how hard they tried.”

I’m gonna kill ‘im, Steven snarled.

Jake glanced at you. You looked like you were about to be sick. You looked like you were ready to jump from your seat and flee the building. Your chest heaved as you tried to steady your breathing. Jake let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight.

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes!” Benjamin snapped. He took a breath, then let out a low chuckle. “They won’t find her. Harrow will make sure of that. The capitol and the surrounding cities will shut down. By the time law enforcement realizes she’s not in the city, it’ll be too late to save her.”

The room erupted into shouts and screams. Most of them were directed at Benjamin. All of them, perhaps, were directed at Benjamin. There was too much going on at once for Jake to even attempt deciphering it all. Someone threw something at Benjamin. (Jake was half-convinced Steven took a page out of Mark’s book and took control of the arm and threw it himself.) Sam banged his gavel, trying to restore order. Order, however, was not restored. Jake supposed it wouldn’t be restored for a long time.

The hearing let out early that day.

After the hearing descended into madness, Jake and you returned to the hotel. Steven fronted shortly thereafter, wanting to spend some time with you. So, he ditched the suit that Jake had worn to the hearing, slipping into a pair of pajama pants and a loose t-shirt. Then he crawled into the bed he and you shared and eagerly awaited cuddle time. Unfortunately, you couldn’t join him right away. Apparently, you needed to talk to Matt and Foggy about how the hearing would go for the rest of the week. So, now he waited in bed for you to get off the phone.

“Hi baby,” Steven cooed as Cleo hopped into the bed. Cleo curled up on his chest, purring lowly. Steven reached up, gently petting her. “Where’s your mommy at? She still on the phone?”

“Mew?” Cleo lifted her head, leaning forward and bumping her nose against Steven’s.

Before Steven could say anything more, he heard you walking into the room. He turned his head, watching as you came over, carrying a bag of Cleo’s treats. “There you are!” you said, setting the treat bag on the nightstand before climbing into the bed beside Steven. You looked to him, smiling, laughter seeping into your words as you said, “I mentioned getting the baby a treat and she came running to you! Want to confess to spoiling our little baby?”

“Whatever Marc told you is a lie,” Steven said.

Hey! You and I both know you’ve been sneaking Cleo treats every opportunity you get, Marc said.

“Then is Jake a liar too?” you teased.

Et tu, Jake?

I’m no snitch!, Jake protested.

“Jake’s calling you the liar,” Steven said.

Woah, woah, woah, Jake said. Don’t put words in my mouth!

“I don’t think he’d do that,” you said, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to Steven’s lips. His eyes fluttered shut and he instinctively followed after you as you pulled away. “Just like he didn’t say you’ve been spoiling our baby with treats.”

Steven’s heart stuttered in his chest. Our baby. God, he loved the sound of that. He so desperately craved any form of domesticity. And he so desperately wanted that with you. Steven wanted a life, and everything that that entailed, with you.

“You’re rotten,” Steven said. “Think you owe me another kiss for that, don’t you? I think you do.”

You smiled and leaned in, your lips molding together with his. Steven reached up, caressing your face, holding you close to him. God, he could have stayed like that forever, but someone had other plans. Cleo, not happy with the situation, jumped up and swatted at you, causing you to jump away from Steven.

“Cleo!” you gasped. “No, don’t do that!”

“Jealous baby,” Steven said, laughing. He rested his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Do you want a baby? Like a human baby?”

You were quiet for a moment. Steven worried that he overstepped. Was it too early to have these conversations? Was now not a good time? It probably wasn’t… You had so much on your mind. The last thing you needed to be thinking about was starting a family. For goodness sake, the two of you haven’t even begun planning a wedding!

“I never really gave it much thought, if I’m being honest,” you finally said. Oh. Maybe now was not the best time to be talking about this then. Steven should really try and segue the conversation back to a more appropriate topic. Yet, before he could, you continued, “But…I think I like that idea. I mean, only if it’s with my loves.”

Steven’s face warmed. He understood why Jake liked being called that so much. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy. It made him feel loved and appreciated. It made him feel like he belonged with you. “I want a big family. At least three, I think,” Steven said. “And I hope they all take after you—beautiful and brilliant.”

“I hope they take after my loves,” you said. “Kind and loyal. Maybe a little bit snippy, too.”

“It’s not nice to call Marc snippy, dove,” Steven said.

“Sure, that’s who I was talking about,” you laughed. “Certainly not the one who’s been vying to fight Benjamin ever since he met him.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a fight. I’d flatten ‘im before he even realized I was comin’ at ‘im.”

You giggled, carding your fingers through his hair. “What do you think we should name our babies?”

“Randall,” Steven said before he could stop himself. His heart stopped as soon as he said it. Shit. Marc’s trauma was Steven’s trauma, but…Sometimes Steven felt so far removed from it. He didn’t have a lot of the same memories as Marc. His childhood was so different to Marc’s. Oh, he hoped he hadn’t upset Marc…

“Oh? Is he someone important to you?”

“He—” Steven started.

Please, don’t. Not yet, Marc asked—nay, begged.

“He’s someone Marc should tell you about,” Steven said. “It’s a sensitive topic, though. Let him bring it up to you, yeah?”

You nodded, a frown settling on your face. “Is he listening now?” When Steven nodded, you said, “Take all the time you need, my love. But know that I am always ready and willing to listen. And that I like the name Randall if it’s okay with him.”

Please tell her thank you, Marc said.

Steven repeated Marc’s words to you. Then, he asked, “Do you have any names in mind, dove?”

“I like Elaine, after my mother,” you said. “I think I like it more as a middle name. I’m not too sure.”

What about Eliana?, Jake suggested. Inspired by her mother, but still our baby girl’s own name.

“Jake suggested Eliana,” Steven said.

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Oh, I really like that! Yeah, if we have a daughter, I think we should name her Eliana.”

“Mew?” Cleo said, nudging her head against your shoulder.

“Another daughter, I mean,” you corrected. “We’ll name our second daughter Eliana, because we already have an amazing first daughter.”

“Mew!” Cleo agreed, nodding her head before turning back to Steven and curling up against him.

“I love this,” Steven said. “I feel so at peace with you. I just want to jump ahead and make it all official, you know? Marry you, properly move in together, the whole shebang.”

You let out a sigh. “It’ll be a long while before we can do all that. We still have to finish this hearing. Then there’s the coronation, which will have to be done before we’re married. Only after that can we start planning the wedding. It’ll be a few years before we can finally get married.”

“Does it really have to take that long?” Steven asked. “You don’t have to abide by all of those procedures, you know.”

“I’m supposed to. It’s what they expect. After everything that’s happened, I have to be on my best behavior. The Royal Family is all about following tradition.”

“But, the people like you because you’re not traditional, dove. You go against everything the Royal Family has done for the last hundred years. If you don’t do what’s expected, they’ll probably love you even more,” Steven said. “And besides, shouldn’t you do things that make you happy? We could still do a big, public ceremony after the coronation. But what’s stopping us from having a private ceremony before then?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you said. “It just…It terrifies me. Every time I do anything, I just hear Benjamin chastising me. Telling me that I’m going to ruin everything him and my ancestors have built.”

“You can’t ruin what was built on a faulty foundation, dove. You can only improve it.”

The hearing for the day had been cancelled as Parliament tried to handle the aftermath of Kieran presenting the recording of Benjamin confessing to having you kidnapped and tortured. Marc was grateful. He knew how much of a toll it was taking on you, and he knew you deserved a break from it. And, it gave him reason to cuddle you, which was always a plus.

It was midmorning, and the two of you were still in bed. Cleo had abandoned you both a few hours earlier, seeking out the warmth of the sunshine streaming in through the windows. Now, you and him laid in the comfort of each other’s arms, both of you finding reasons to not get up.

“We should get up soon,” you would say, running your fingers along Marc’s jawline. “We should do something productive.”

“Cuddling you is productive,” Marc would whisper back, fighting to keep his eyes open. It felt so easy to rest around you. He had never felt so relaxed in his life. “Besides, it’s cold out there, and you’re nice and warm.”

And hot!, Jake would say.

I think that was implied, Steven would laugh.

I’m trying to have a moment here! Marc would say.

Marc liked looking at you like this, when you were at your most vulnerable. He liked being one of the few people who got to see you like this. Your sleepy eyes, your eyelashes fluttering as you drifted between the dreamworld and reality, your slowed movements as you pulled him closer to you. He loved this. He loved you.

Which…he felt bad about. Not the loving you part. God, he could never feel badly about that. It’s just…the words. Saying them. Every time he tried, it felt like he was choking. Like someone had reached around from behind him, clasped their hand around his throat, and squeezed. Worse, perhaps, you never got upset with him about it. You were so patient with him. And that scared him. How long might that last? You’d never given any indication that you might snap, but…Well, that’s never stopped people who were supposed to love him before.

Still, he wanted to say it. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops. And even while he couldn’t, not yet, he still wanted to show you in every conceivable way possible.

Marc leaned in, nuzzled his nose against yours. “We haven’t taken you on a real date yet,” he whispered, his breath fanning across your face. He leaned in, like he was subconsciously trying to melt into you. He wished he could.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said. “I enjoy your company plenty without having to go on a date.”

He reached down, taking your hands in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. He squeezed your hands once, twice, three times. “I want to spoil you. I can’t give you much in terms of money or, or gifts. But I can make you feel special. And I want to make you feel special.”

You leaned your forehead against his, letting out a soft sigh. “Nothing fancy, please? I can’t stand formalities much these days. I want it to just be us—and Steven and Jake, if they decide to hang around.”

“I have the perfect date in mind,” he said. He started to get up, slowly unwinding himself from you. “I have to go make a coupla calls to get it set up, dove.”

“Nooo,” you whined, reaching out, trying to stop him from leaving. “Stay here, make the calls here.”

“I want it to be a surprise, my dove,” he laughed. “And I need to call soon, or else it might not be ready for tonight.”

“Fine,” you said, your lower lip jutting out into a pout. “But can we cuddle some more after you make the call?”

“Of course, dove,” Marc said.

After a few phone calls, an extended cuddle session, and several hours later, Marc was ready to take you out on your first date together. It was more on the casual side, which Marc noted that you seemed to be relieved by given the way you brightened when he responded to your question as to what would be appropriate for the evening. Marc had noticed that about you. You would never complain, never say a bad word about it, but he could tell you were exhausted after years of having to act prim and proper.

Even at your most casual, though, you looked angelic. It was amazing to witness, if he was being honest. You were the sort of person artists would call their muse. You were the sort of person people wrote poems about. You were the sort of person who, even long after you were gone, would still live on in people’s memories and stories. And Marc was forever grateful that he got to witness that.

“You ready, dove?” Marc asked, watching as you slipped on a pair of shoes.

“Mhm,” you hummed, rising out of your seat and crossing the room to him, slipping your hand in his. You squeezed his hand once, twice, three times. (He nearly cried.) “Where we headed to, my love?”

(Dammit, you wanted him to bawl like a baby, didn’t you?)

“I got us a private room at the hotel restaurant,” Marc said, leading you out of the room and to the elevator. “It’s nothing fancy, but I thought it was better than venturing outside and having to fight off the vultures.”

You laughed. “They’re just trying to make a living.”

You were too kind. The kingdom didn’t deserve you. God, it frustrated Marc to no end that people could be so cruel, that people would try to take advantage of you and your kindness.

“They could be more respectful,” Marc said. “It’s not like it’s hard.”

“They would never change. They don’t have a reason to,” you said. “But let’s not talk about them. I don’t want them to ruin our night.”

Finally, you reached the restaurant, and the hostess led you both to a private room near the back of the restaurant. Marc pulled your seat out for you, allowing you to sit before pushing it in. He took his seat across from you, then ordered your favorite champagne for the both of you.

“You’ll pulling out all the stops for something that’s supposed to be casual, Mr. Spector,” you teased, your eyes twinkling as you looked at him.

“I can still treat you right while on a casual date,” Marc said. He reached across the table and took your hand in his. He squeezed once, twice, three times. “You only deserve the best, dove. I want to make sure you always treated right.”

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one,” Marc said. A lump settled in his throat, tears pricked at his eyes. Fuck. He didn’t think he’d get so emotional so quickly. He swallowed hard. Cleared his throat. “I never thought I’d experience something so amazing. I didn’t think I deserved it.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Of course you deserve amazing things, Marc. Why wouldn’t you?”

He looked away, not meeting your gaze. He wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you everything that had happened to him, that made him what he is. But…it terrified him. He hated the idea of opening up to someone, anyone. Even when that someone was a person as considerate as you. Marc could trust you with anything. He knew that. But jumping over that hurdle? He was scared he might fall.

“Oh. Hey, don’t feel like you have to tell me anything, okay? I didn’t mean to bring up something uncomfortable.”

“He was my brother,” Marc blurted out.

“Huh?”

“Randall. He was my brother,” Marc said. “He…He died, when we were little.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him. “I’m so sorry. That must��ve been awful.”

“I blamed myself…It was an accident, but I was supposed to look out for him, but I…I failed. He died because of me,” he whispered. “My mom made sure I never forgot that.”

You squeezed his hand, tight, once, twice, three times. You didn’t say anything. You knew that he needed to let this off his chest. He was carrying a heavy burden, and he could take however long he needed to unload it.

“Do you know what causes DID?” he asked. When you shook your head, he said, “Severe, prolonged trauma. My mom…She…she…She convinced herself I did it on purpose. That I secretly hated Randall. She took her anger out on me. That’s how we got Steven. He, he doesn’t have the same memories of my mom as I do. I couldn’t protect Randall, but I…I could shield Steven from her. He didn’t know about how cruel she was until much later.”

He took a deep breath, trying to control his rapid heartbeat. “Jake came later. He’s newer to the system. As I got older, I got more aggressive. I got angrier. It got worse when I joined the Moon Knights. I made a lot of stupid decisions early on. I…I got really close to dying. Jake, he…Where I protected Steven, he protected us both. He kept us safe.”

You lifted your joined hands, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“It…It’s hard for me to talk about my emotions,” he said. “Even the good ones. Anytime I showed any emotion, I got punished for it. By my mom, by the Moon Knights…I get scared that if I tell you how I feel, you’ll punish me for it. But I also get scared that you’ll leave me, because I can’t say three simple words.”

“I know how you feel, my love,” you said, You squeezed his hand once, twice, three times. “You tell me even if you don’t use words. I understand your fears. But I won’t ever intentionally hurt you. You can take as much time as you need. I love you, and whether you ever feel safe enough to say the words or you don’t, that won’t ever change.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Thank you for telling me all of this,” you said. “I know it must’ve been really hard for you to talk about.”

It was. God, it felt like Marc was walking across hot coals to tell you what he did, even with him leaving out many of the details. “You make me feel safe,” he said.

He hoped he made you feel the same.

#do not chastise the dove: a royal moon knight au #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x female reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector x reader #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector x female reader #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x female reader #starrywrites #starryevermore

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myocsfanfictions · 5 months

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The Road Ahead of Us - TWD Season 2

The Walking Dead Fanfiction

MASTERLIST

They had left Atlanta behind, trying to reach Fort Benning; but during an apocalypse nothing ever goes at it is planned. Sarah and Nicolette will have to face new challenges and dangers. How will they survive?

<< Previous - Next >>

CHAPTER 22

NICOLETTE

Nicki was more sure every day that Shane was getting crazier by the day. He was jumpy, aggressive, and impulsive. He had pulled Carl in that way; he never did that. Treating him as if he was his son.

Nicolette had tried to find the Little Shit after he ran away, but she didn't manage. So she decided to take a walk around the farm. The whole Randall situation was getting her agitated; his only presence managed to do so. And she didn't like it.

She had been scared before; she had witness a city fall, her friends die, a man tried to burn them alive, she had seen Sophia getting back as a walkers, but those were creatures. No thinking creatures, they walked and ate. People, however, were another matter. They could think, and people like Randall's group seemed to enjoy hurting others. She never thought she would be scared of humans in that situation, but she was.

"Carol, send ya?" Daryl's voice made her look up. She hadn't realized she had arrived at his self-made camp. He was looking at his arrows, gathering them, and with him, there was Dale.

"Carol's not the only one that's concerned about you," Dale said.

"Sarah?" he asked again, but Dale shook his head.

"Not just them," Dale said again, "With your new role in the group."

That was true, Daryl was growing on everyone in the group, well, maybe everyone except from Shane. But after what had happened to Sophia, they all realized that there was more of Daryl Dixon than they had noticed before.

"Oh man, I don' need ma head shrunk," Daryl scoffed, bending over to take some other arrows, "This group is broken," at his words, Nicki put herself behind a tree, wanting to listen to what they were going to say at that point and she was afraid that if they'd noticed her, they would have dropped the subject.

"I'm better off fending for myself," Nicki remembered that he moved away just after Sophia died. He could act tough all he wanted, but she was sure that if he moved, it was not because he had enough of all of them. Not after he beat up Randall to know what they all risked.

"You act like you don't care," Dale said. Dale was watching Daryl take a step towards a tree where his jacket was hanging.

"Yeah," Daryl replied, "It's 'cause I don'."

"So live or die, you don't care what happens to Randall?" Dale said, observing Daryl closely, but he didn't wait even a second to answer that he didn't, "Then why don't you stand with me and try to save the kid's life? If it really doesn't matter one way or the other," Dale suggested. And Nicki frowned.

Why did he want to save that kid so badly? From what she had understood, threats should be eliminated. Randall was a threat, so why try to save me? His group had attacked Rick, Glenn, and Hershel, and it was to kill them. And then, they figured out what their group did to people. They were dangerous. They were a threat.

"Didn't peg you for a desperate son of a bitch," Daryl answered.

"Your opinion makes a difference," Dale said, trying to convince him.

"Man, ain't nobody lookin' at me for nothin'," Daryl answered, taking his crossbow, ready to walk away.

"Carol is," Dale said, following, "Sarah is," Daryl stopped walking, "And I am. Right now," the hunter turned to the older man who kept talking, "And you obviously have Rick's ear."

That was true, Rick trusted Daryl more.

That seemed to piss Daryl off as he hissed, "Rick just looks to Shane. Let 'im."

"You cared about what happened to Sophia," Nicki found herself looking at the ground at the mention of the girl's name by Dale, "Cared what it meant to the group," that seemed to have gotten Daryl's attention as he became to walk back towards Dale.

"Torturing people?" Dale kept saying, "This isn't you. You are a decent man," Nicki said. She was sure that if Sarah had been there, she would have agreed with what Dale was saying. She often defended Daryl when the others didn't trust him, "So is Rick. Shane… he's different."

Dale didn't trust Shane too, she had noticed that and she was curious to know what Daryl thought about the man.

"Why's that?" Daryl asked, "'Cause he killed Otis?"

Nicolette's eyes widened. She knew it was like that. She had been thinking that for a long time now.

"He told you that?" Dale asked, his eyes wide but not surprised. Would Shane really say something to Daryl? Something so confidential?

"He told some story," Daryl began to explain, "How Otis covered for him, saved his ass. He showed up with the dead guy's gun," she had noticed that, but others didn't, maybe if they'd listened to their conversation something would have rung a bell, "Rick ain't stupid. If he didn't figure that out, it's 'cause he didn't wanna," the started to walk towards the woods, "It's like I said… the group it's broken."

Could Rick really let Shane go around after he killed a man? Of course, Shane getting back was the only reason Carl was alive, but by killing someone… was Rick letting that slide? Seeing how Shane was behaving.

"Ya listened, alright?" Nicki's head shot up when she noticed Daryl standing by the tree.

"How long did you know?" she asked, still kneeling on the ground.

"Ya make a lot 'f noise for a quiet girl," he said, fixing the position of his crossbow over his shoulder, "Your sister knows ya here?" Nicki shook her head as she stood up.

"But better you than Shane," she answered, and he looked closely at her.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because Sarah trusts you more than she does with Shane," Nicki answered cooly. He noticed him chewing the side of his cheek before heading towards the trees.

"So Shane killed Otis," Nicki said following him.

"Ya can't come," Daryl scoffed.

But Nicki ignored him. "Are we safe with him?"

"Randall?" Daryl asked with a frown.

"Shane," Daryl stopped, taking a breath before turning to her, "Go back to your sister. Everything's fine."

"I think he is dangerous," she stated, looking up at the man, "I'm afraid of what he may do."

The twilight arrived soon. Nicolette had spent her time shooting her arrows against trees or targets. She needed to feel ready, she didn't like to feel so jumpy. The woods now seemed even more dark, and the girl asked herself how long it would have taken for Randall's friends to find them.

As the sun started to disappear over the horizon, Nicki got back to the house, like she had promised to Sarah. The adults would all be there, they had the meeting to decide what was going to happen to Randall. As she was walking, Carl's frame caught her eye; he, too, was heading toward the house.

"Look who's here," she said, her tone flat as she observed his clothes, "Have you been rolling on the ground?" his pants were dirty with mud.

"You're so annoying," he muttered, passing next to her.

"Thank you," she answered, following him. They walked in silence for a bit, but she could see him glaring at her from time to time.

"What?" Nicki asked with a frown.

"You always shoot without fear," he stated, annoyed, and that got her confused.

"I don't think I'm following," she admitted, and he just scoffed.

"You're really annoying."

Nicolette usually had no problem with the Little Shit being pissed at her, she even found it funny, but at least she would have liked to know what she did so as to annoy him more.

They arrived at the house, where Lory was waiting for her son, while the other entered the house, "I want you to stay with Jimmy."

"But I want to listen," Carl protested.

Lori shook her head, "Not this time."

Nicki got closer to the woman, "Is Sarah inside?" she asked, and Lori nodded her head, leading the three of them inside.

*******

If you liked it, please leave a ♥️ and reblog!

#the walking dead imagine #the walking dead oc #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #twd oc #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl Dixon #carl grimes #carl grimes x oc #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes fanfiction #daryl dixon x oc

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lingthusiasm · 1 year

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Lingthusiasm sixth anniversary: help share the show and do our listener survey!

Lingthusiasm is turning six!

In celebration of our sixth anniversary this November, we’re asking you to help introduce the show to people who would be totally into a linguistics podcast, if only they knew it existed! Lingthusiasm is a great fit for anyone in your life who is curious about language or who likes hearing ad-free conversational deep-dives into hidden patterns in the world around us from people who are extremely invested in articulating why it’s so cool.

Your recommendations really do work (we see it in the stats!), whether it’s a shoutout on social media, sending a personal message to a friend, or sharing the RSS feed with your cool aunt.

We also love being recommended as guests on your (other) favourite podcasts! Every podcast is in a language, and we love chatting about the link between linguistics and your other favourite topics (we’ve done linguistics and science fiction/roleplaying games, linguistics and conlanging, linguistics in romance novels, linguistics and mythology, and more!).

Trying to figure out what to say about Lingthusiasm? Here are some ideas:

What’s Lingthusiasm like?

Ever find yourself distracted from what someone is saying by wondering about how they say it? Lingthusiasm is a podcast that’s enthusiastic about linguistics as a way of understanding the world around us.

From languages around the world to our favourite linguistics memes, Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne bring you into a lively half hour conversation on the third Thursday of every month about the hidden linguistic patterns that you didn’t realize you were already making.

“Lauren and Gretchen know their stuff, have an easy rapport, and are skilled at pitching linguistic concepts to a general audience.” —Sentence First

“Joyously nerdy.” —BuzzFeed

“I checked out Lingthusiasm by playing a random episode and it was funny and fascinating and educational AND it had a shout out to Dinosaur Comics!” —Ryan North

Which episode should I start with?

You can start listening to Lingthusiasm anywhere! See what grabs your attention from this list of episodes that came out this year:

The linguistic map is not the linguistic territory (transcript)

What If Linguistics - Absurd Hypothetical Questions with Randall Munroe of xkcd (transcript)

Various vocal fold vibes (transcript)

Language in the brain - Interview with Ev Fedorenko (transcript)

What we can, must, and should say about modals (transcript)

Tea and skyscrapers - When words get borrowed across languages (transcript)

What it means for a language to be official (transcript)

Word order, we love (transcript)

Knowledge is power, copulas are fun (transcript)

Making speech visible with spectrograms (transcript)

Where to get your English etymologies (transcript)

Share your enthusiasm with us, 2022 listener survey

We're also doing a listener/reader survey for the first time to celebrate our anniversary this year! This is your chance to tell us what you're into on Lingthusiasm, what we could do more of, suggest topics and guests for future episodes, and also answer some fun linguistics experiment questions, which we might write up into an Official Academic Paper someday! (And either way, we'll report back on the results.) The survey is online, and will take 5-30 minutes (depending on how much you want to tell us in the open text boxes).

bit.ly/lingthusiasmsurvey22

This survey is being conducted by Lingthusiasm in conjunction with La Trobe University (Ethics approval HEC22181). Thanks to La Trobe for the support to collect data that we can share with Lingthusiasm listeners and academic audiences. More information can be found in the Participant Informed Consent Form before the survey starts.

Journey back through time to previous anniversary posts

Fifth anniversary post

Fourth anniversary post

Third anniversary post

Second anniversary post

First anniversary post

#lingthusiasm #linguistics #anniversary #sixth anniversary #6th anniversary #listener survey

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cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien · 5 months

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Solar Opposites: Unleashed Scene: The Truth About Terry

Human Yumyulack: Um Terry, take it easy-

Human Terry: Ugh! I had it with you people and your stupid conflicts?! When are you gonna- the screen suddenly went orange for a second as he suddenly found himself back on Shlorp What? The scene glitched as he saw a shadow of a monster with glowing orange hanging from the ceiling, another horned monster dead on the floor and baby Jesse crying in her crib. Clearly having a panic attack right now, Human Terry curled up on the floor with his hands over his ears, trying to block out this hallucination, but it wasn't off... And he was suddenly knocked back into reality screaming NNNNNOOOOO! breathing in and out frantically No…

Everyone seemed startled by this as they back away. Human Korvo gasp and comes up to his husband in concern.

Human Jesse: T-Terry? You okay?

Human Terry was shaking and practically sobbing at this point, unable to even form coherent sentences. Human Korvo then put his arms around Human Terry.

Human Korvo: Oh Terry, is everything alright?! What’s wrong?!

Human Terry: tearfully Wh-what the fuck was that?

Human Korvo: Oh dear. Let’s go home, AISHA might have the answers to this. Come along kids.

Joan: Wait, what about-

Phoebe MacCarthy: We’re not helping you!

Some of the group gasp.

Barry B-but what about it-

Human Jesse: No forget it! If you guys are just gonna keep fucking throwing each other off the bus, then we’re not helping you. Come on guys. Let’s go home.

Caitlin: Wait! Come back! reaching out her hand

But it was too late. The Human Solars left as the group looks down sadly. Then it shows The rest of the gang, who have watched the whole argument, look sadly as they watch their friends leave.

Miss Frankie: Is Terry going to be okay?

Ms. Perez: Hopefully...

Randall: I sure hope so.

Then, when the Human Solars got home, Aisha is shocked to see Human Terry so vulnerable.

Aisha: Damn, what happened to you Terry?

Human Terry: shaking I-I don’t know. One minute, I fucking snapped because of this whole tension going on around about the epidemic. The next thing I know is that my eyes flash back to Shlorp 13 years ago.

Human Korvo, Human Yumyulack and Human Jesse: What?!

Sonya: Your home planet?!

Phoebe MacCarthy: Aisha! Maybe you can scan Terry! That could help why he acted like that back there.

Aisha: Got it Phoebes!

Aisha starts scanning all over Human Terry’s body until she gasp in horror and looks down.

Human Terry: What?! What is it?!

Aisha: sighs Terry, there is something you should know. It’s time I tell ya the truth about your family’s history…

Human Terry: M-my birth family?

A flashback occurs which shows Shlorp years ago and it shows Terry’s mother Jessica slowly dying from a plague as the doctor packs up his stuff..

Aisha: For the past years, your family was gifted with an amazing beast that is part of their life sources… the Mundane! These beasts are sadly beasts that came out from suicidal thoughts and depression, but luckily, the Wearspreadas were a let to master their beast by realizing how strong and brave they are and the love of the people who care about them, including their friends and family. Your mother was one of them, but tragically the plague took her slowly…

Doctor: closing his suitcase; to Teraformus You must leave! Now!

As the doctor leaves, a baby crying was heard. Teraformus looks at his dying wife one more time as she looks at him smiling.

Jessica: Quickly, before it takes him too.

Teraformus tearfully nods. Then, before she dies, Jessica kiss a pacifier slowly. Then it shows baby Terry crying as Teraformus picks him up and puts him in a basket as he took him to an orphanage. Teraformus looks at baby Terry one more time as he leaves. The head orphan leader picks up baby Terry and takes him inside. The scene cuts back to the present as Human Terry gasp.

Human Terry: Wh-what? I’m a half monster?

Aisha: I’m sorry Terry. It’s true. After your father created me, he told me not to tell you until you are older. Because, the first time a Wearspreada transforms into Mundane, they don’t have any control, which makes the, go berserk and out of control. Even might hurt other people. Also, they’ll lose their sanity if they don’t have any control… even forgetting about the ones they love…

Overwhelmed and distraught, Terry turns back to his normal Shlorpian self as he falls on his knees and breaks down in tears. Korvo, Yumyulack, Jesse and Pupa turns back into their normal alien selves. Then, they, Sonya and Phoebe hugs Terry as he kept crying.

Korvo: Shh. Oh Terry, there there. It’s gonna be okay. Even you transform into your Mundane for the first time, we’ll still be with you no matter what.

Jesse: Yeah. You’ll still be our dad!

Yumyulack: It’ll be okay man.

Sonya: Yeah, even if you turn into a monster like Mr. Korvo, you’ll always be the Terry we know and love.

Pupa: Terry…

Phoebe MacCarthy: And if they dare get on your bad side, I’ll be sure to kick their fucking assess!

Terry kept crying as his family pull him close.

Terry: tearfully O-okay. I’ll try to-to control it! I-I don’t wanna lose my family. I’m so s-s-sorry…

The rest of the family continues to comfort Terry as he breaks down in tears more, now completely afraid of the other side of himself.

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livil589 · 6 months

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Party - Jackie

Warnings: none, just kissing and fluff

Spending the night before nationals at a party, yelling over too loud music and being hit on by drunk guys was not what I had planned on doing with my night. Jackie and her damn puppy dog eyes, however, had my resolve crumbling within seconds and I agreed to go.

Music blares through a radio in the back of some dudes truck and there's a small fire in a firepit that illuminates laughing faces. I make my way through a sea of wasted teens, trying to find someone I know.

I scan the crowd and see- well more like hear Randy Walsh hitting on Shauna Shipman. Rolling my eyes I scoff. Can't he take a hint? She's clearly not into him. I quickly lock eyes with Shauna as I wade though more people.

"Hey Shipman," I greet the relieved girl, watching the defeated look on Randy's face as he goes to flirt with some other poor girl. "God, finally...thanks, y/n"

"Randy being Randy?" Shauna nods, hugging her jacket close as we approach the table with drinks. She clumsily pours herself a glass of Malibu and milk. I snag a cup, filling it with cheap beer and watch as Shauna takes a few large swigs, "Geeze, Shauna. How many of those have you had?"

Her response to my question fades away as my attention lands on Jackie. She was dancing with Jeff.

I knew she didn't actually like Jeff. He was a cover up, a means to a end to keep up her image but fuck if it didn't make me want to rip his hands off of her. Our eyes met and Jackie winks at me before her attention is diverted back to absent-mindedly dancing

Lost in my thoughts I hadn't noticed the bickering that had begun until my attention was ripped away from Jackie by loud yelling.

"Shut the fuck up Laura Lee!" Shouting could be heard as the team began to spiral, the alcohol only intensifying the situation. Jackie's gaze locked onto me before it quickly fixes itself on the scene behind me.

Poor Van was doing her best to separate Shauna and Tai but the situation quickly grew out of hand. Soon, all of the yellowjackets were fighting.

Someone yells, "Catfight!" And of course it's Randy. I yelled back at him. "Fuck off Randall!"

Fucking Randy, I thought as I attempted to help Van separate the team.

Realizing shit had spun out of control Jackie marched over, her hands settling on her hips. An air of authority followed her and her face was scrunched into a look of disbelief that shifted to one of disappointment.

"That's it. ENOUGH !"

The command was effective. Whatever shouts were heard quieted almost instantly. As the honey blond sucked in a breath we all waited.

"Yellowjackets, with me...now"

I locked eyes with Jackie. My stomach did a little flip like it often did when I noticed her gaze soften. Her pink lips curved into the signature Jackie Taylor smile that made my mind go blank. It didn't last long, though, as she ran a hand through her hair and quickly fixed me with a look that said to get moving.

After a speech (more of a lecture) and some reluctance, everyone gave in to Jackie's request of a team bonding exercise.

I manage to sneak away from the team and find myself sitting on a wooden bench. As I make my way through a fourth cup of alcohol a voice grabs my attention. "Hey"

We're inches apart when I turn my head. I can smell her perfume, the sweet floral scent surrounds me and my head feels fuzzy. "Hi" I respond, leaning into Jackie slightly.

"What are you doing sitting by yourself...hmm?" her voice is like honey, low and sweet as she whispers. The words are clearly only meant for me.

Before I can answer I'm wrapped in a hug that leaves a lingering warmth throughout my body and my mind races when she places a quick kiss on my cheek before letting go of me.

We sit in a shared silence. Neither of us feeling the need to talk and I drink in the moment, savoring the feeling until a slightly slurred voice pierces the air.

"You guysss cominggg?"

I reconize the voice, looking to see drunk Lottie coming into view. Lottie stumbles a little and leans onto a nearby tree for support as she motions for us to join her.

A few seconds later another voice chimes in. "Lottie? Where are you? Lottieee...oh! There you are..."

Nat wraps her arms around Lottie, clearly high off her ass as she tuggs on the taller girls arm in an attempt to get her to follow.

"Aweee, you miss me Natty?" Lottie affectionately pats Nats head and gives us a wave before allowing herself to be led away.

Me and Jackie watch the exchange, amused expressions on our faces as Lottie's dragged away.

I turn to Jackie, who looks like she might explode as she trys her best to contain her laughter. She eventually gives in and a fit of giggles fight their way out. A smile fills my face as my own laughter soon follows. "Wanna get outta here?" I hold my hand out, waiting for her response.

"Hell yeah," she responds, her hand warm in mine, a pleasant change from the chill in the air. We stumble through brush and branches before ending up in a secluded spot not far from the crowd of teenagers.

My breathing comes in fast breaths and a small gasp falls from my lips when Jackie pulls me into her.

Our lips press together softly and my eyes fluttered closed. Butterflies erupt in my stomach before my brain catches up.

Fueled by the alcohol I grab the collar of her jacket and pull the blonde into another kiss.

Soft hands move to grip my waist. Her thumb rubs circles into the skin there as she moves me backwards towards a tree, pressing me into it.

When she pulls back, her eyes are glazed over and she leans in to kiss me slowly, as if she's taking the time to truly savor the moment.

We stay like that, trading slow, lingering kisses that make my stomach erupt with butterflies and fill me with a comfort so deep it seeps into my bones.

As the need for air increases, I pull away and suck in breath after breath, letting my lungs fill with the cool air. My eyes never leave Jackie's and through the small amount of light from the party I can admire her current state.

A small amused huff leaves Jackie's lips as she reaches up to run her thumb over the side of my mouth. "You...uhhh..have some of my lipgloss on your lip..."

I grin as she removes the sticky gloss, taking extra care in making sure none was left. Placing a kiss to her forehead, I realize we've been gone for a long time. "We should probably get back to the party, Jax"

"Yeah...we probably should" she huffs a bit, leaning in for a quick kiss before reluctantly separating.

"C'mon" Jackie sighs as I grab her hand, intertwining our fingers together as we reluctantly make our way back to the party.

-hey guys!! Ik I haven't posted a fic in a long time haha, school's been taking up all my time

Anyway...I totally forgot this was sitting in my notes so enjoy!

#yellowjackets #jackie taylor #x reader #jackie taylor x reader

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renee-writer · 1 year

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The Contractor

A/N Started by @omgbarbiegurl a bit ago. She and I decided to take it back up. I was hooked from the first few paragraphs. Y'all will be also.

A03

Claire had not expected her life to turn out this way.

She had always assumed that she would live her life in a quiet, unassuming way.

Just an ordinary doctor, living an ordinary life.

Until three things, seemingly completely unconnected, happened.

First, she was fired from her job at the Hospital.

It had not been her fault, not really.

Yes, she had directly disregarded an order given to her by a superior.

But said superior had been drunk, and was trying to administer the incorrect medication to a patient.

A pregnant mother no less!

So of course, she had grabbed the syringe from his hand and called him an utter moron.

Not her fault that the superior had been a highly decorated and revered doctor.

Fucking Frank Randall ruining her life with his idiotic whining.

Of course, the Medical Director Joe Abernathy, had been very kind. He explained that he tried to mitigate the situation, but that Dr. Randall was having none of it.

A very generous severance package was offered, and with the amount, she was able to take her time to find a new job if she wanted.

Second, a premature baby was born and placed in the NICU.

The mother had abandoned him and no one could soothe him.

Gellis Duncan, (Director of Maternity and Claire’s best friend), told her as much when they went out to lunch together.

“Saddest thing ever. Little tyke just cries like we are sticking pins in him.”

Claire hmm’d softly as she took a bite of her salad.

“Say! You’re not working right now thanks to that drunk rat bastard, and we could really use some Rockers.”

Claire looked up confused. “You need Rockers? Is the budget so small you can’t afford them?”

Gellis rolled her eyes. “Not Rocking Chairs, Claire, Rockers. It’s a volunteer program through the hospital. People come in and volunteer their time to rock NICU babies that have been abandoned.”

Claire felt something warm settle in her stomach.

“Really?”

“Yes, no one can settle this fine little lad though.”

Gellis pulled out her phone and showed Claire a picture of the dark eyed baby, covered with wires and tubes.

“Poor little lamb.” She said softly, staring at the baby. “But look at those curls!”

“Oh yes, he’s got a whole mop.”

“Well, I suppose I could see if I can find time to stop by and see what it is all about.”

And that was how Claire found herself sitting in a rocking chair, in a smock, rocking the tiny baby whose name was disgustingly Baby Doe.

“He can’t have that name Gellis, it’s horrible, and he doesn’t respond to it at all!” Claire stated over the phone to Gellis one night as she poured herself a glass of wine.

“Well, unfortunately Claire, we can’t just plunk a name on him. That’s for the Family Welfare blokes to figure out.”

“I refuse to continue to call him Baby Doe.”

“Well fine, but don’t come crying to me when someone catches you and kicks you out of the program.”

“Having a name, my lad, is something very special. So I am going to start saying some, and if you like them, you just let me know.”

The baby blinked his huge dark eyes and shifted as the feeding tube in his nose caught.

Claire adjusted it and cleared her throat.

“Lambert?”

The baby didn’t even blink.

“Well I thought it would work, alright. Uh, Henry?”

Still nothing.

“You are making this horribly difficult.”

Claire prattled off a few names here and there, but nothing seemed to grab the baby’s attention.

She finally sighed and stroked his hair lightly as he drifted off to sleep.

“You look like you have a mop of fur on your head.”

She almost gasped when the baby’s eyes shot open and he cooed at her.

“What? Fur?”

The baby started to jerk his arms around. Claire thought he was having a seizure, but she realized he was showing happiness and excitement.

“Your name can’t be Fur my lad. That is silly. What about Ferguson?”

The baby stopped moving instantly.

“Okay, you don’t like that. Um, what about just Fergus?”

There was a moment of stillness, but little Fergus opened his eyes wide and smiled at Claire.

Who immediately burst into tears.

Claire had decided to adopt Fergus.

Yes, she technically didn’t have a job; but she was a Doctor for heaven’s sake, it wasn’t like the King George Hospital was the only hospital in all of bloody England!

And yes, okay she did live in a tiny little flat that could barely fit her on a good day, but still! She could move, she did have a very generous severance package.

All of which she said.

The Director of the Abandoned Baby Program, (named Dianna), was not budging though.

“Claire, you have to understand our position. Of course we want to see Baby Doe-”

“Fergus.”

“Uh, Fergus go to a loving and wonderful home. But you just lost your position with the hospital due to gross incompetence, which will make obtaining a new one extremely difficult.”

“That was a lie on my record to smear my good name, which I am now fighting.”

“And once it is abolished from your record, and you have settled yourself into a steady job. Find a new home, and perhaps we can look into it.”

“And until then, Fergus gets shifted around in the system like little bits of flotsam and jetsam.”

Dianna looked pained.

“You must understand, there are so many little ones, and so few homes.”

“And yet, a perfectly good home is sitting right in front of you, and you are ignoring it!”

“I am terribly sorry Madame.”

The third, and final thing that happened? Well, Claire received a letter from someone that said she was a friend of a distant relative of Claire’s who was inviting her to tea.

In Scotland.

But, she figured life couldn’t get any stranger at this point.

She bought a train ticket for the appointed day, and set out for Scotland.

What was the worst that could happen?

“Excuse me?”

“Oh aye. This was settled long ago, ye ken?”

“So let me get this straight. Uncle Lamb had two brothers that basically wrote him off. But now, because there are really no more direct heirs, I am getting a house with land?”

“Aye.”

Mary MacNab was a small, fine-boned woman with dark brown hair. She had soft brown eyes, and lips that were full and gently curving.

“But I don’t understand this at all!”

“Oh weel, that is for the Barrister to discuss with ye. I have his number here.”

Claire looked at the tiny card. “Ned Gowan, Barrister.”

“Aye. The MacKenzie’s have always held a Gowan as a Barrister since Clan MacKenzie was roaming the Highlands.”

“Oh.”

“He’ll give ye all the details.”

“Do you know where the house and land are?”

“Aye. I can take ye to see it if ye want.”

“Please.”

Mary stood up and grabbed some keys from the table.

“Ronald! I am taking Claire to see the house. Mind Rabbie!”

“Aye!”

Mary shook her head.

“I ken when I come back, I will find them both with wide eyes and drool dripping down their chins as they play video games. Do ye have children Claire?”

“Not at the moment, but I hope to soon.”

“Ah, ye ken weans are a blessing.”

Claire smiled; glad someone understood what she wanted.

The two women got into a small sedan and drove down the road.

Mary kept up a constant stream of chatter, pointing out sights and talking about who lived where.

Claire could imagine at one point that the land had been vast and open, but now it was filled with a hodge podge of houses and yards.

The effect was very beautiful though, like an eccentric tapestry laid out for all to see.

They drove for about 20 minutes before Mary turned off the main road and onto a dirt one.

The road was bumpy, and Claire held the safety bar almost for dear life, but Mary seemed unaffected by the drive.

As they crested the small hill and came down on the other side, Claire’s breath left her.

“So here it is.

It wasn’t a lot of land, but it had a large house.

And that was about it.

There were a few scraggly shrubs, and the yard was weed choked.

The roof awning was sagging over an equally aged porch; and there was a large crack in the big picture window.

Claire was enraptured though.

“The property used to be larger.” Mary said as she climbed out of the car and dug into her bag for the keys.

“Back in the 1700s, this land was part of Castle Leoch. Colum MacKenzie was Laird then, and owned everything. When he died, his son Hamish took over as Laird. This land had been in a MacKenzie's hands for generations. Up until the 1930’s. Government stepped in to make use of the land for farming and such. This is all that’s left.”

As Mary climbed the splintering stairs, the porch seemed to shift, and give a little under her feet. Claire hung back in case she had to assist Mary if she fell through the wood.

But, Mary made it to the large door just fine.

And, after dealing with a cranky lock, they were inside.

If Claire thought the outside was bad, but the inside was worse.

The carpet was the first thing she noticed. It seemed to be an indiscriminate color, washed out almost.

It was only when she got a closer look that she realized that the carpet was covered in mildew.

The kitchen was just as ancient as the rest of the house, with scarred and cracked linoleum.

Mary said nothing as they climbed the mildew carpet covered stairs to the second floor. The stairs ominously creaked and groaned as they climbed.

There were several bedrooms, with faded wallpaper and patchy carpets, not mildewed though, which was good.

The Master bedroom was tucked into a corner, large and clearly fit for a king with an en suite bathroom.

Which apparently a family of raccoons was using as a den.

All of which hissed at Claire and Mary, before both women ran down the stairs in fear for their lives.

As Mary caught her breath, she pressed her hand to her chest and looked at Claire.

“I ken you will probably not be moving in.”

“No, actually, I think I will be moving in.”

Mary’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Yes, this is not anything a little renovating won’t fix. Plus…”

She pulled a tissue out of her purse and lifted a corner of multi-colored carpet that was not very firmly attached to the floor.

“Solid wood underneath. Mary, this house is going to be amazing when I am done, it will be a home fit for my son.”

Of course, just moving in was not really an option. And moving in with Fergus was not absolute.

But once she talked to Ned Gowan, he told her that he knew an amazing contractor team, one of the finest around Inverness.

“I also know a very good Home Inspector; he will make sure everything is perfect.”

“I would love to live in the home while they are doing it.”

Ned frowned.

“The logistics might be a little tricky. But I will talk to the Lead Contractor and see what he says. When would you like the renovations to start?”

“As soon as possible.”

“I will contact Jamie and see what his schedule looks like.”

“Jamie?”

“James Fraser, the Lead Contractor. It’s actually his company.”

“Oh.”

Ned smiled. “Is there anything else I can help you with Dr. Beauchamp?”

Claire felt a very devious smile spread across her face.

“Actually Ned, there is a little detail I would love to get your assistance with.”

Later when Claire boarded the train to go home to sort out her affairs, she couldn’t help but think, ‘What kind of name is Jamie for a contractor?’

The minute Claire returned to England, she went straight to King George Hospital. She called Gellis on the way to have her meet Claire in the lobby so Gellis’s badge could be used to buzz her up to the 9th floor where Hospital Administration was housed.

Claire had only been slightly worried about the request, but Gellis had laughed at her.

“Let those arses try and fire me, I have enough dirt on everyone to make them bow to me.”

Claire laughed, and as the doors closed, Gellis winked at her.

When she got to the 9th floor, she didn’t stand on ceremony, or even pause to talk to Joe’s secretary.

She just barged into his office.

And she would assume later she had a bad look on her face because Joe was on the phone, but told the person he would call them back and hung up fast.

“Claire-”

“Shove it Joe. There is currently a smear on my record, and I want it off.”

Joe sighed softly. “Claire, I already told you that these things take time.”

“No Joe, these things do not take time. I know this because I have spoken to a lawyer, a very good lawyer. This is the letter he has drafted for you.”

She tossed the letter onto Joe’s desk, giving him enough time to start reading before she spoke again.

“The lawyer had decided that getting the smear off my record should be a simple matter. So, you can look like a damn fool while I sue this hospital and take it apart brick by brick as the letter states. Or you can deal with me and make this go away. What’s your pleasure?”

20 minutes later she was holding an official letter in her hand declaring her record clean.

She took that, as well as the house deed straight to Dianna’s office.

Where once again, she didn’t stand on ceremony.

Dianna was not on the phone, but Claire must have had the same look because the woman jumped to her feet in shock, upsetting her teacup.

“Madame Beauchamp!”

“Doctor! I didn’t spend 8 years in Medical School just to be called ‘Ma’am!’

Dianna started to speak, but Claire stopped her by tossing the letter and deed onto the desk.

“My record has been cleared by Medical Director Joe Abernathy. I have a house in my possession where there is plenty of room for a growing boy. And, I have a job interview tomorrow afternoon with Raigmore Hospital in Scotland. I do believe I have met all your specifications.”

Dianna looked at the items in front of her, mouth hanging open.

“Well this is…I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, that would be simple! ‘We will start the paperwork so you can adopt your son as soon as possible, Dr. Beauchamp.’ That’s what you can say.”

That was indeed what Dianna decided to say.

A few days later, Claire finally got to meet the elusive James Fraser.

She had called him several times, and left messages, but heard nothing from him.

But, then again, she had been busy with getting Fergus transferred to Raigmore Hospital.

She did indeed have an interview there, but it was more of a long-standing interview, akin to when she felt like it.

However, the director, Margaret Campbell, told her that there was always a spot for her there whenever the mood took her.

She had also gotten to meet the head of the Maternity Ward, Marsali Claudel. She was a very sweet faced woman, who looked years younger than she was. And who apparently had 4 children of her own already.

So, when she said to Claire, ‘Dinna Fash Dr. Beauchamp, this little lad will get all the care in the world.’ Claire was inclined to believe her.

“Thank you Marsali. I was worried something would happen to him on the way over here.”

“Och, nah. He is a stout little lad with a will to live, I ken it.”

She gave her son a little tap on the hand through the side opening since she couldn’t kiss him in the incubator.

“I will be back to see him tomorrow, I have an appointment with the Home Inspector this afternoon.”

“Ah Murtagh Fitzgibbons.”

“You know him?”

“Oh aye, everyone knows Murtagh. And his godson, Jamie.”

“Jamie is his godson? I have been trying to reach him to talk about the house. Maybe he can tell me how to get a hold of him properly.”

That afternoon, Claire pulled her car into the driveway and was surprised to see a pair of men waiting for her in front of the house that appeared to be deep in conversation.

They both looked up as she approached, the man with bushy eyebrows and beard spoke first.

“Miss Beauchamp?”

“Mr. Fitzgibbons, nice to meet you.”

He firmly shook her hand and smiled at her under all that hair. “Nice to meet ye as well. This is my Godson Jamie, he will be the contractor for ye.”

Claire turned her gaze to the red headed giant. “I have been trying to contact you Mr. Contractor.”

Jamie smirked a little. He had been listening to that prim, proper, ENGLISH voice leave him messages all over the place requesting that he call her. Over the phone, it had made his stomach twist, in person, it made his whole body go warm.

“Been busy.” He muttered.

“Well, since you are here now, we can kill two birds with one stone.” She said crisply.

She pulled the keys to the house out of her bag.

“Shall we gentleman?”

An hour and a half later, Murtagh left Claire with a huge stack of papers of things that needed to be done.

And he had stated before he left, (which Jamie concurred), that everything needed to be done for the house to be livable, let alone habitable. Claire was sure a huge chunk of her severance pay, and some of her inheritance was going to be sunk into the house.

But Jamie had said the house had good bones, which she guessed was a good thing.

Now she was alone with Jamie while he checked his schedule.

“So how long do you think this will take?”

“Och, well…” He looked up at the house, and then back to his phone.

“Figure I can get a crew of at least 4 others, if they don’t take too many tea breaks, we can have it done in about 6 weeks’ time, 4 if we really try.”

Claire blew out a breath. Fergus was nowhere close to being released from the hospital, so that was fine but still…

“Could I stay in the house while you’re working?”

Jamie’s face went a little flat. “Do ye not trust me and my crew Miss Beauchamp?”

Claire felt herself flush a little. “I am not saying that all Mr. Fraser. This is my home, and I want to be here.”

He gave her a long look, something akin to a prisoner appraising his governor.

“I am not sure I appreciate you sullying my Honor Miss Beauchamp. You are in the wilds of Scotland, Honor is still a verra important thing here.”

Claire smiled a little. “Well how shall I make amends? Pistols at dawn?”

“I can think of something much more satisfying.”

“And what is that?”

“Dinner.”

Claire’s mouth dropped open. “Dinner? Like a date?”

“Aye, as a means to repair my bruised Honor after all.”

“I-alright. Tomorrow night?”

“Tis a date then.”

He turned to walk back to his truck, a small strut in his step.

She waited until he was almost to the truck and called out. “Does this mean I can stay in the house during the renovation?”

Jamie stopped, stood still for 10 seconds, and then started walking.

“No.”

Claire wanted to scream, but instead waited until he drove away and kicked the loose gravel at her feet.

“Stubborn Scot!”

Later as she sat in her Airbnb drinking a glass of wine and talking to Gellis.

“So then! He asks me out on a date to heal his bruised Honor, and then when I ask if I can be at the house during the renovations, he says no. No Gellis!”

“Well, did you ask him why he doesn’t want you there, maybe it will be dangerous, or you will be in the way.”

“I just planned to sequester myself in a room and go over appliances, paint, and furniture. How is that being in the way?”

Gellis chuckled. “Knowing you Beauchamp, you would start off sequestered, but soon be in the man’s face about how a stair doesn’t look straight. I love you Hen, but you have Anal Retentive issues, with perfectionist tendencies.”

Claire said nothing, just sipped her wine.

“I suppose there is some, maybe a little truth to what you say.”

“A little? Love, you scolded that very nice intern named Lloyd because the stitches he did were off slightly.”

“Well, if you are going to be a surgeon, you have to be careful.”

“There is careful, and then there is you. The last time I checked, we don’t have sewing teachers measuring our sutures.”

Claire said nothing, but blew out a breath.

“Hen, let me tell you this. You are getting ready to have a baby, and unless you want him saying down the road, ‘My mum became a stark raving lunatic because I colored outside the lines,’ you are going to have to learn to unclench a little. And maybe, if you do, Jamie will meet you halfway hmm?”

Claire blew out a breath and downed the rest of her wine.

“Maybe.”

#my writing #outlander fanfic #omgbarbiegurl's and i's #the Contractor #chapter one three things #new story #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom #modern au

8 notes · View notes

residentdormouse · 1 year

Text

Ten Lines Tag

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three or more) then share it. Tag others if you want.

Tagged by: @mrsmungus, @themaradaniels

Presumptuous of you all to think I have ten fics 😂😅😬 (I have 3, and one is a whole grand total of 512 words 😖). So I guess, here's what I got??

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Something Like a Spiral

Fandom: the Stand (2020)

Pairings: Glen Bateman/OC, (Canon Fran Goldsmith/Stu Redman & Implied Lloyd Henreid/Randall Flagg)

Rating: M - canon typical violence, language (I say fuck a lot y'all), some smut scenes (marked in chapter to avoid if not preferred reading), drugs (so much vaping)

Words: 101,101 / Completed Work / 33 Chapters

Excerpt from Chapter 14: Popcorn Glass

He knelt in front of her, holding her head upright, hand on her cheek. "Come on, Hayden, I need you to wake up… Please..."

She moved into his hand and he felt her take a deep breath. As her face began to drift into a relaxed position, the static began to fade.

Glen barely had time to feel the relief when he heard two quick claps behind him. Standing in the doorway, Stan had a concerned look on his face, cigarette dangling out of his mouth. It would have been comical if the situation were different.

"Did it work?" Hayden's voice jumped in, tone indicating she was unaware of preceedings.

In a matter of seconds, he was in front of her, pulling her up, holding her tightly against him. As her arms curled around his back, head resting on his shoulder, he felt himself relax as well.

Thinking himself in control of his emotions, Glen took a step back. All it took was one look at her confused face, just one and he fell back to instincts once more. In seconds, he pulled her close, lips meeting hers. The desperate nature behind it was reminiscent of their interactions on the road. Slowly, he regained himself and his hands made their way to sit on her shoulders, pulling back to give her a look over once more.

Oblivious to any previous danger, she let out a breathy laugh, but his expression stayed set with concern. "I'm not complaining about the wake up, but--"

"Are you alright?"

Another chuckle was made at the notion that she wouldn't be, but it stopped once she spotted the red stain on his shirt. Right where her face had been. Her hand shot up to her nose and pulled back with fresh blood. She realized now.

"Fuck me, what happened...?"

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Just Keep Diving Down

Fandom: the Stand (2020)

Pairings: Glen Bateman/OC, Nick Andros/OC, Harold Lauder/OC, Lloyd Henreid/OC (Canon Fran Goldsmith/Stu Redman & Implied Lloyd Henreid/Randall Flagg)

Rating: M - canon typical violence, language (I say fuck a lot y'all), some smut scenes (marked in chapter to avoid if not preferred reading), drugs (so much vaping), major character death (there is some happiness to be found at the end of it all)

Words: 166, 017 / Work in Progress / 33 Chapters (of 36)

Excerpt from Chapter 24: Come On Pretty Monster

That luck was short lived as Hayden threw the door open and reached the control panel. She really didn’t know what else she should have expected. Even if she did have her key card, it would be no use, any pull she had was bound to be removed sometime ago. And now with this damn thing weighing around her neck impeding her ability to do anything beyond normal physical means…

"There might have been a way with magic, but I can't—" And then it hit her. She couldn’t. Her magic was shot. Didn't mean they couldn't use magic at all. "Do you trust me?"

"Do I really need to answer that?"

While Glen’s smile, his subdued attempt at humor, the conviction he had for her, it was all appreciated but, the response wasn’t exactly what she was looking for. Their faith in each other had been established some time ago.

"You, no. Lloyd, yes."

Wide eyes looked back at her as Lloyd was thrown on the spot. His hesitance was highlighted, and indicated he was astutely aware of where this type of question usually led. Nowhere good. And he was terrified of what it was about to put on him.

"Shit, when you say it like that…"

All that was needed to stress the urgency was the sound of a body smashing alongside the nearby wall, a reminder of what was happening around them to prompt a more direct answer.

"Fuck, yes! I trust you, okay!"

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Even in Death

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairings: none

Rating: G/T - some swearing

Words: 512 / one-shot

Excerpt:

Wavy brown hair popped up from behind the preset barrier. Lights flickered around them, and they could only watch as the table between them hovered slightly and crashed back down to the ground.

“Did you think they could protect you?”

The voice came from Eddie, but it was distorted. Warped in a way only he would be able to imagine. A character only he could create.

“You are all that’s left. Their fate lies on you. Do you flee?”

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Tagging: @asirensrage, @chickensarentcheap, @imagine-you, @anniesocsandgeneralstore and open tag to anybody who would like to gush about their works! Please @ me!!

#just keep diving down #something like a spiral #even in death #only started writing fanfiction last year #since the stand fandom is small #and needed some Glen love

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sparkiekong · 1 year

Text

In other parts of the world, a young Evelyn Van Richten decided it was time to report into her father who was in Selvadorada speaking with a pair of archaeologists who'd found something interesting enough to send him off to see it personally.

She tried not to yell at her siblings who were outside, throwing ball with a broken lycanthrope as if he were a dog. They were all having fun and it made her all the more angry. She breathed in a moment before typing, trying to relax and not break yet another keyboard.

Father,

I hope this email finds you well and safe in your studious endeavors in Selvadorada and we send good tidings to the Catzenberg family. I am always entranced by Nancy and Nathan’s work on Omiscan culture. We have returned from our appointed task safe and unharmed. We have a new resident in the dungeon. His name is Mobey, and he is a lycanthrope from the Moonwood Clan who is unable to return to his human form. He has approached us to request our assistance in getting him into his human form in exchange for information on the inner workings of the Moonwood Clan.

We did not find any information regarding Lycaon or his whereabouts, only that his second in command, a woman named Bert, was looking for him as well. With no luck in that department, we chose to take the lycanthrope and head to the second part of our mission to gather intelligence on the Order of the Sun’s Hope campus. When we got there the place had been ransacked. Likely due to the falling space station. While there, we were able to obtain some information off the hard drives, but there was no one of importance there. When going over said evidence, we found that the group had more than a passing interest in the Chosen One. I’d thought it only a legend until we reviewed the CCTV footage and what is on there… Father, it’s quite a vicious attack and we are certain now that she does exist. However, we did not expect her to be a child and she left a wake of damage behind her when she left. I am attaching the footage to this email.

On a more annoying note, that Randall refuses to let me live down… As we left the area, we came across a couple of hooligan children in the Springs and Randall felt the need to ask them if they’d seen anything weird. We wouldn’t realize it until after viewing the footage, that the girl he spoke to was in fact, that very same girl. She’s here Father! Living somewhere in the Springs!

How would you like us to proceed? We have returned to her last location and found nothing, should we continue to search that area? I fear we would draw too much attention to ourselves, but Randall insists that I ask.

Regards,

Evelyn

#tac #ksu #the axiom conclusion #sims 4 story #sims 4 #ts4 story #ts4 #helenofsimblr #crossover #tales from the district s2

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d1xonss · 4 months

Text

Desert Rose

Chapter 23 ~ Broken

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 2

✧ Word Count : 5.2k

In this chapter ~ In the midst of everything, Rick and Shane weren't able to leave the stranger behind like they had planned. It all led up to a pretty ugly discussion about how they would take care of him, fighting for whatever humanity they could hold onto. But they quickly come to realize they can't prevent the inevitable forever.

It was a silent morning, quieter than usual as we waited for Daryl to come out of the shed with the dreaded news.

Rick and Shane came back late that night still with Randall attached on a leash, claiming they couldn't just leave him in the middle of nowhere, leading to a pretty ugly disagreement. Apparently, part of it was because Randall knew of Maggie from around the small town and knew where the farm was, so they were left with a tough decision. In the end they decided to play it a bit more safely and bring him back, and Daryl offered to "have a chat" with him this morning to get the information we needed out of him.

But as we all stood there waiting, my mind was elsewhere.

Yesterday was a rollercoaster of emotions for not only me, but the Greene family. After Daryl talked to me, I did feel a little better but also couldn't hide the embarrassment I felt after what he watched me go through. Practically the five stages of grief in two minutes. But after our talk I soon fell asleep, emotionally exhausted from everything that had happened that day. Then this morning I woke up and he was already gone, so I haven't gotten the chance to talk to him about everything he did for me last night. Though I would eventually, I didn't really know where to start.

I didn't know if he fully realized how much he had truly helped me. How much he proved that he was always there for me for the good, the bad, and the ugly just by simply comforting me in a time of need. It made my heart swell, and I wanted to thank him for all of it.

The shed doors opening and closing with a slam is what brought me out of my thoughts, seeing Daryl coming out only seconds later looking pissed. He made his way over to us quickly and stood close by while informing the group about what he got out of the man.

"Boy there has a gang, thirty men, got heavy artillery and ain't lookin to make friends. They roll through here our boys are dead and our women...they're gonna wish they were." he said.

"What did you do?" Carol asked him cautiously with her arms crossed, looking at how bloody his hands were.

He shrugged, "Had a little chat." he said simply.

Once Carol had brought attention to his beat up knuckles, I couldn't help but stare as well in slight concern. I then mindlessly took his hand in mine and raised it up to my face, examining the blood and cuts he had gotten. I felt his gaze on me while I did so, yet everyone else around us seemed to pay it no mind as they stewed over Randall's words.

"No one goes near this guy. We don't have a choice, he's a threat. We have to eliminate the threat." Rick stated.

Dale's ears perked up at that, "You're just going to kill him?"

"It's settled, we'll do it today." Rick announced before stalking off in the other direction.

My eyes followed his figure, along with Dale's whom was following close behind, thinking back to Rick's sudden decision. I didn't feel one hundred percent comfortable with killing him, but I also didn't want his group to show up in the one place we felt safe. There was no limit to the possibilities on what these people could do, Daryl only proved that further when he told us everything he said. So when it comes down to it, I think killing him is our best option.

But Dale was clearly quick to argue, chasing after the man as he began to talk his ear off for no doubt a better option. But clearly there wasn't. With the way we've gone over this a thousand times already before, we had already talked it out for far longer than we should've. And I for one didn't want to go through that endless loop again. No amount of time or patience would prepare me for another similar discussion.

My eyes then connected with Daryl's momentarily and I nodded my head towards our tent and he nodded back, quickly slipping away from the group. As we made it back to the small space we shared, I wanted to grab some things to help clean the fresh gashes on his hands.

"Sit down here, I'll be right back." I said briefly.

"Yes ma'am." he said with a knowing smirk as he sat himself down on the log I pointed to.

I fixed him with a glare as I felt the familiar heat creep to my cheeks before turning around and going into the tent to get a first aid kit out of my bag. Once my fingers grazed over it, I pulled it out and made my way back outside and sat down beside him, taking his hand again to help clean everything up.

Taking some water first, I gently poured the cool liquid onto his knuckles, trying to wash them as best as I could from the dirt that lingered there. I then took some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol, warning him before I began to gently graze it back and forth. He flinched a little at first but then slowly got used to the stinging, relaxing a bit more as I continued.

It was silent between us as I focused, but I could tell he had a lot on his mind with the talk he just had with Randall. It was a lot I will admit, but I could tell he was overthinking about it far too much. So I decided to break the silence.

"Stop thinking about it. Everything will be okay." I muttered quietly, my eyes still focused on his hands.

He huffed quietly, "What you can read my mind now?" he asked playfully.

My gaze lifted then with a little smile, "No, your thoughts are just too loud, they're hard to ignore you know."

He only smiled in return, nodding to himself like I had a point. I then finally finished wrapping up his hands in white bandages a bit tightly, before dropping them back into his lap, prepared to take the silence as an opportunity. It started off almost awkward as I didn't know quite how to put it, but I felt that I had to bring it up sometime.

"I uh...never got a chance to say thank you by the way, for yesterday. All the shit that went down. So, thank you. You have no idea how much that meant to me." I said honestly.

He scoffed and shook his head, "Ya don't gotta thank me darlin, I'll always be here when ya need me."

My heart jumped the smallest bit once I heard the nickname he had never used before, fall effortlessly off his tongue. But he had a much different reaction than I, pressing his lips together tightly and closing his eyes as if he regretted saying it at all. And just like that his thoughts were running wild once again, stuttering as he tried to apologize and find the right words for the slip up.

"Shit...sorry, it just- kinda...slipped out."

I gently grabbed his hand again, getting him to actually look me in the eye, "It's okay," I assured, "I think it's sweet."

He was quiet for a moment as he stared a me, before muttering, "Ya don't hate it?"

"I love it." I responded.

He smiled a bit shyly, before cupping my cheek and bringing me towards him to place his lips on mine. It was a soft and loving kiss that I never wanted to pull away from. Looking at Daryl you would assume he would be rougher with this kind of thing, but he truly was the gentlest person I had ever met. He treated every touch like he was nervous he would completely break me somehow, like I was glass.

But that alone only made me crave it more.

I leaned in further to him, deepening the kiss as his hand slowly moved down my back to inch me impossibly closer. But then my mind wandered a bit, completely forgetting about the vest I had gotten him, but never had a chance to show him. So I reluctantly pulled back before my head could get any further in the clouds, sighing almost at the loss of contact.

"What's wrong?" he asked, tucking some hair behind my ear.

I shook my head, "Nothing. I just completely forgot I have something for you."

He raised a single eyebrow at me, "What is it?" he asked, almost dreading the thing I could put in his hands. His tone sounding like he assumed the worst.

"Well shit, don't sound too excited." I joked, "It's nothing bad, just wait here for a second." I said as I quickly got back up to my feet, heading back towards the tent momentarily.

My hands fished around through my bag where I had kept it hidden since I got it, finally feeling the leather material amongst everything else and pulled it out. I gave it one last glance before putting it behind my back, exiting the tent and looking towards him expectantly.

"Okay, close your eyes." I said.

He looked at me suspiciously for a moment or two, before his eyes fluttered closed anyway, trusting me blindly. My feet moved further towards him, standing right in front of him and bringing out the item to hold it out so he could see the back of it first.

"Open them."

He slowly peaked one eye open, both of them then getting wide once he saw what I was holding. I then handed it over to him so he could actually get a better look at it, but he was only wearing an expression that I couldn't read as he sat there quietly.

"I found it on a run yesterday with Glenn...I don't know, I just thought of you when I saw it. Plus, I never got you anything in return when you got me my sketchbook, so I thought this was perfect...do you like it?" I asked, his silence only make me grow uneasy.

He then finally met my eyes, not wasting another second before he picked me up in his arms, spinning me around in the air as he hugged me tight. I yelped in surprise, before I was laughing at the enthusiasm I had never seen from him before, wrapping my arms around his shoulders in return.

"I love it." he said seriously, placing me back down on my feet before turning it around and throwing it on over his long sleeve button up, "How does it look?" he asked, turning around to show me the back as well.

I nodded to myself as my eyes roamed over his figure, "Great." I confirmed as he turned back around to face me, "You look good in leather."

He cocked an eyebrow at me, "Yeah?" he asked to which I simply nodded my head, "Then I'll wear it till the damn thing falls apart."

A genuine smile made its way back onto my face at that, getting close enough to pull him back in from the new collar of his vest. He sighed deeply, his hands falling in place at either side of my waist as he showed me how much he truly loved the gift. But like always, the moment didn't last nearly as long as either one of us would've liked, him pulling back after only a few seconds.

He rested his forehead against mine with a sigh, "We should probably head back." he muttered, clear disappointment lacing his voice.

I groaned, "Why can't we just stay? I'm a lot happier here, without all their negative bullshit."

He only laughed, "I know, but don't ya think they're gonna start wonderin where we are?"

I let out a heavy breath before fully pulling away, "Yeah, alright." I muttered.

He smiled and pulled me back into him for one more quick kiss before we headed back towards the house, dreading what the rest of today would bring.

For the majority of the day, everyone was going back and forth about what to do with Randall who continued to make himself comfortable in the shed. Just like I dreaded. Another pointless conversation that would leave us all yelling and pointing at each other while nothing would get settled.

Dale was making his way around to anyone in the group he could sink his teeth into, asking if they truly thought killing him was the right thing to do. He was basically a walking survey for the entire day, but a really annoying survey that doesn't respect your opinion and wants you on his side. When he asked me my thoughts, I just told him that I didn't want him to die, but I didn't want him to live either. I had to let him down saying I wouldn't stand with him when it came time to make a decision, and I could tell he was disappointed in me, but quickly picked himself back up and moved onto the next person.

He left me alone after one last disapproving look that I couldn't get out of my head while I continued to sharpen my knives. I didn't want it to be this way and he knew that, no one did, but this is what it's come to in the end and we just had to deal with it. The world clearly wasn't the same as it once was, and though it was something that would take a while to get used to, we all at some point had to accept it.

Glenn eventually made his way over to the same spot we sat in yesterday, plopping down on his ass right next to me as I stopped my movements mometarily to see what he needed.

"We have to stop meeting like this." I joked.

He sighed heavily, "Do you think it's the right thing to do?" he asked, ignoring my comment and looking out towards Dale's retreating figure.

I followed his gaze before placing my weapons down with a huff, "I don't know, not really. But I also don't trust him enough to let him go. And we can't keep him locked up here forever."

He nodded his head, "Yeah, I know. But it still feels wrong."

"It is." I said bluntly, "But I don't want anything bad to happen to anyone here because of him. Especially you." I winked.

That caused him to let out a small laugh, and I moved closer so I could rest my head on his shoulder, in hopes of feeling some comfort at a stressful time like this.

"I don't want anything to happen to you either." he continued, "Or Maggie... or anyone. That's why I'm not trying to stop this." he said.

"I know," I whispered, "You're too good for this world, Glenn."

He scoffed at my comment, but didn't make any attempts to argue. In my mind I assumed he didn't say anything else because he knew it was true, though he didn't want to believe it, he was too good of a person. A people pleaser on steroids. Just simply wanting the best for everyone around him.

There was a long and comfortable silence that followed after my last words, soaking up the air around us before he suddenly opened his mouth again.

"So, what's going on between you and Daryl?" he asked casually.

I preferred the silence.

My eyes widened at the sudden question I wasn't expecting, my mouth becoming very dry at the thought. I couldn't tell him, not now at least. I wanted to respect Daryl's privacy and also I kind of liked the idea of nobody knowing about us. It was nice to not have watchful and knowing eyes constantly glued on us, and if I told him about the big secret, that would surely change. In fact, I would never hear the end of it.

I slowly lifted my head to look at him casually, "What do you mean?" I asked.

He gave me a pointed look, "Come on, I've seen the way you two have been acting lately. Leaving at the same time, stealing glances at each other, the way he looks at you now is like... even more intense than it used to be."

I scoffed at his words, brushing them off as if they meant nothing, "I don't know what you're talking about, we're just friends."

"Uh huh, okay, sure." he muttered, "You can lie all you want but just remember, I'm your best friend and I know everything. So, whenever you decide to tell me the truth, I want details." he stated.

"Is this really what you think about to help you sleep at night? That Daryl and I are together?" I asked him playfully.

He shrugged, "No, not necessarily, but I think you two are good for each other."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever you say."

"So, it is true?" he asked with wide eyes and a hopeful smile.

"No." I deadpanned.

He sighed but dropped the topic completely upon hearing my tone, and our conversation continued like normal. That is until we were called into the house to finally have the discussion on what to do about Randall. It was like a reality check slapped me across the face and believe me when I say, it stung. I didn't want to fight about this, not anymore. But clearly there was no way out of it now.

The two of us made our way back up to the house and into the living room, finding a place to stand as we waited for everyone else to fill the empty space. I found myself leaning up against the wall while Glenn sat down on the couch in front of me, watching the group slowly pile in with anxious looks on their faces.

Daryl was one of the last ones to come in the room and I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be scanning the room before his eyes landed directly onto me, making his way towards my direction only a second later. His frame leaned up against the wall right beside me, bumping his shoulder with mine as we both stood with our arms crossed in front of our chests silently.

I glanced over at him and gave him a small smile before turning back to face in front of me again, my eyes finding Glenn's amongst the crowd of people. His gaze was already on me, looking back and forth between Daryl and I as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. My eyes narrowed as I gave him a pointed look that seemed to shut him up fast, now looking everywhere but me as he awkwardly started the conversation.

"So...how do we do this? Just take a vote?" he asked.

The room was silent for a moment as everyone thought before Andrea piped in, "Does it have to be unanimous?"

"How about majority rules?" Lori suggested.

Rick sighed and shook his head, "Let's just see where everyone stands, then we'll talk through the options."

"Well, the way I see it, there's only one way to move forward." Shane spoke up.

"Killing him. Right?" Dale asked without missing a beat, "I mean why even bother taking a vote? It's clear which way the wind is blowing."

"Well if people think we should spare him, I want to know." Rick spoke.

Dale nodded a little to himself, clear disappointment in his eyes as he scanned around the room, "Well, I can tell you it's a small group, maybe just me and Glenn."

My gaze then snapped back towards Glenn in utter confusion, not even five minutes ago he was telling me the opposite, that we were on the same page. But then I saw the guilty look in his eye when he looked back at Dale and I knew he hadn't told him he changed his mind.

He kept his eyes down as he spoke quietly, "Look I-" he took a breath, "I think you're pretty much right about everything all the time but this-"

"They've got you scared!" Dale exclaimed.

"He's not one of us," Glenn said calmly, "And we've lost too many people already."

There was a painful silence that followed, the older man looking everywhere to try and confide in someone else, before gesturing to Maggie, "How about you? Do you agree with this?" he asked.

She stayed silent, biting her lip subtly in thought before she turned to Rick, "Couldn't we continue keeping him prisoner?"

"Just another mouth to feed." Daryl spoke lowly.

"It may be a lean winter." Hershel pointed out.

"Well, he could be an asset, give him a chance to prove himself." Dale pleaded.

I shook my head, "No way in hell we're just letting him walk around freely." I spoke.

"We could put an escort on him?" Maggie suggested.

Shane scoffed with a nod of his head, "Yeah, and who wants to volunteer for that duty?"

"I will!" Dale said as he raised his hand in the air.

"I don't think any of us should be walking around with this guy, okay?" Rick said.

"Look," Shane started, "Let's say we let him join us. Maybe he's helpful, maybe he's nice. We let our guard down, maybe he runs off and brings back his thirty men."

Daryl tensed up the slightest bit from beside me, enough so that I was able to catch it just out of the corner of my eye. Without looking over, I subtly found his hand beside me and intertwined our fingers together, giving it a squeeze in reassurance.

"So, the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime he may never even attempt?" Dale snapped, "If we do this, we're saying there's no hope. Rule of law is dead, there is no civilization."

"Oh my God." Shane suddenly muttered as he ran a hand over his shaved head.

I didn't know what possessed me to do this, truly I didn't. The whole situation was stressful enough as it was without his little negative comments, so when I heard him mutter something even slightly, I didn't hesitate to pick up one of the apples in a bowl next to me and chuck it at him. As soon as it bounced off of his head, his eyes snapped towards me almost instantly in silent anger, clearly just as fed up with my shit as I was with his.

"Shut up." I slightly snapped before crossing my arms back over my chest.

Glenn immediately covered his mouth as he tried to hide his laugh that threatened to escape, while something else brushed up against my arm to get my attention. It was Daryl holding out his hand for a subtle high five which I gladly accepted, looking up after to see his lips pressed together trying to suppress a smile.

There were a few seconds of silence, everyone left shocked and somewhat speechless before Hershel cleared his throat, "Anyway... could you drive him further out? Leave him like you planned?"

"You... barely came back last time. There are walkers, you could break down, you could get lost." Lori stressed.

"Or get ambushed." Daryl said.

"...Maybe we shouldn't put our own people at risk." Glenn said.

Patricia then stepped up with a worried look on her face, "If you do go through with it... how would you do it?"

"We could hang him, just snap his neck." Shane suggested, glaring back at me every chance he got.

I was tempted to get another apple, wanting to get it through his skull that not everything was about him and his own opinion, but I refrained. Even though it would be just as hilarious the second time as it was the first.

"I thought about that, shooting him may be more humane." Rick stated.

"Well, what about the body?" T-Dog asked, "Do we bury him?"

Dale then stepped forward again with widened eyes, "Woah, woah, hold on you're talking about this like it's already been decided."

"We've been talking about this all day and then some." I said, "Going around in circles, you just want to go around in circles again?"

"This is a young man's life!" he snapped, "And it is worth more than a five minute conversation...Is this what it's come to? We kill someone because we can't decide what else to do with him? You saved him!" he pointed towards Rick, "Now look, he's been tortured, he's going to be executed. How are we better than those people we're so afraid of?"

That's what made everyone stop and think for a moment. I could see Dale's point on some things, but I wasn't planning on changing my mind, nor was anyone else here it seemed like. We didn't know him or his group and when Daryl came back from talking to him earlier, I could just tell that this guy couldn't be trusted. Not when his people were so proud of doing those horrible things.

"We're better because we don't kidnap children. We don't torture women. That right there is just the tip of the iceberg of what his people have done. So yeah, I'd say we're a little bit better than them. He can't be trusted, and you know it, not after everything he spilled about his group." I spoke.

"So, what is the solution?" Andrea suddenly asked, "I mean we haven't come up with a single valuable option yet. I wish we could-"

"So, let's work on it!" Dale interrupted.

"Stop it! Just stop it." Carol suddenly cried, "I'm sick of everyone arguing and fighting. I didn't ask for this, I didn't ask for us to decide something like this. Please decide, either of you, both of you. But leave me out of it."

Dale then pointed a finger at her, "Not speaking out, or killing him yourself, there's no difference."

"Hey!" I snapped, "You don't get to put all of this on her just because she doesn't want to be a part of this fucked up decision."

"That's enough!" Rick yelled before I could continue, though I saw Carol smiling towards me gratefully. "Anybody who wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance now." he concluded.

There was just silence. Nobody wanted to talk about this anymore. Nobody wanted to think about it anymore. We all just wished for something to happen, something that would cause us just to move on from this.

Dale then couldn't take the silence, "You once said we don't kill the living." he said to Rick.

"Yeah, that was before the living tried to kill us." he said.

"But don't you see if we do this, the people we were, the world that we knew is dead... and this new world is ugly, it's harsh, it's survival of the fittest! And that's a world I don't want to live in. And I don't believe that any of you do, I can't. Please... let's just do what's right." he begged, tears now flooding in his eyes.

I assumed the room would stay silent, finally sealing in the realistic decision to eliminate the threat. But Andrea stepped forward, almost hesitantly, but yet sure that this is what she wanted to do.

"He's right." she muttered, "We should try to find another way."

Rick only nodded, "Anybody else?" he asked.

Everyone now sat perfectly still, avoiding Dale's gaze as much as they could with him now looking towards everyone pleadingly.

He nodded his head with a scoff at the silence, "Are you gonna watch too?" he asked, "Nah you'll go hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we're slaughtering a human being. I won't be a part of it." he mumbled before heading towards the door to walk out of the room.

His head was hung low as he made his way past everyone, briefly stopping to glance at Daryl and placed a hand on his shoulder, "This group is broken." he said quietly before making his way towards the front door, leaving with a slam.

Processing everything all at once, including Dale's exit, I was the next one to leave after that. I didn't want to think about it anymore than I had to, and the decision was already made. That was it.

I walked until I felt like I couldn't anymore, out onto one of the many fields to watch the sun go down in front of me. I always loved this part of the day, where the sky was filled with the most beautiful shades of color I've ever seen. It made me feel calmer, it made me somehow forget everything just for a while. Even back when life was normal, I would always watch the sunset to just clear my head from the things that were bothering me the most. And right now I felt I needed the quiet more than ever.

I never thought life would come to this. Truly I didn't. Pushing us to a point where we would kill a man just because we didn't trust him. It was all fucked up seeing what the current world had come too after the dead began to rise. But in the back of my mind, I silently knew all of this could've been prevented.

If Rick hadn't helped him, brought him back here in the first place, we wouldn't have had to deal with this at all. Deal with something that was clearly tearing this group apart. I by all means wasn't blaming him for just trying to do the right thing, but you bet your ass if I had a time machine right now I would use it.

Though it wasn't long before I wasn't alone anymore, Daryl's heavy footsteps slowly came up behind me, taking a seat close to my left as he followed my gaze. Neither one of us said anything for a while, just simply enjoying the view in front of us along with each other's presence. It only lasted a few minutes before he finally spoke up.

"Ya okay?" he hesitantly asked.

I turned my head towards him once I heard his voice, "Yeah." I nodded, "I'm just thinking."

He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, "Bout Dale?"

I shrugged, "About everything." I muttered vaguely before tilting my head at him in question, "Do you think he's right?" I suddenly asked.

I was surprised how quiet the question came out of my mouth, but Daryl heard it nonetheless, "Nah, we gotta keep everyone safe. We can't do that if we have him here. Can't trust him."

I nodded, though a part of me was still unsure. The last thing I wanted was to put someone down, saying that their opinion wasn't important or didn't matter, and I assumed that's exactly how Dale felt. But another part of me was sure that the decision we came to was the right one, even if the older man didn't agree with us right away, maybe someday he would thank us.

Although Daryl sensed I was thinking too much, tilting my chin up so I would look him in the eye again, "If it makes ya feel better, Shane's got a big ol red mark on his forehead from where ya hit him." he said, starting to chuckle halfway through.

I found myself laughing right along with him as the memory played back in my head, "You know what, that does make me feel better. Thank you."

He shrugged almost bashfully, "Anytime."

I found myself staring at him with such admiration without even meaning to, the sunset making him look more perfect if that was even possible. As I looked into his eyes, I felt a wave of comfort and happiness wash over me. He made me feel safer than I had ever felt before and I knew I could count on this man for anything. Though I didn't know what the future held for us, I somehow had a feeling we would be in it together.

~ Thanks for reading!

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