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sourwolf-sterek32 · 8 months

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Found You- Part 4

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

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: language, violence, blood

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

A/N- To the beautiful woman who has commissioned this mini series, thank you! And I hope you enjoy this new part.

*Months Later*

It had started out as a normal, average day in Alexandria, but life as you knew it turned from peaceful to chaotic within the span of 24 hours.

"Boys, breakfast!" Daryl shouted over his shoulder while flipping pancakes from the frying pan to the plate.

The word 'breakfast' was like a trigger word in the Grimes-Dixon house because every single resident suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Daryl rolled his eyes but didn't stop the greedy hands stealing pancakes from the stack while you stood beside him making your sons sandwiches for school.

"I'll never get sick of waking up to this." Michonne commented, leaning between you both to take a couple pancakes from the bench.

"You and me both." Your father agreed, the two of them vanishing with the food just as quickly as they had appeared.

"They're a little on the burnt side, baby brother." Merle commented walking out the kitchen with a pancake in his hand.

"Make 'em yourself then!" Daryl shot back.

"I think they're good." Little Dean piped up shoving one of the pancakes in his mouth.

"Thanks, kiddo." Daryl smiled, reaching down to ruffle his son's hair. "Why don't ya put it in a bowl ‘n pour some syrup over it? Not too much though."

You put the knife down and pulled out two bowls from the cabinet above your head before holding them out to Dean. He flopped his bitten pancake into one of the bowls before grabbing a few more pancakes from the stack. He evenly divided up the food in the two bowls, one for him and one for his brother like he did every morning.

You went back to cutting up the sandwiches while watching Dean out the corner of your eye with the syrup to make sure he didn't drown the pancakes in too much sugar. But after all this time he seemed to have finally mastered the right amount of syrup to pancake ratio.

Ricky walked into the kitchen a couple minutes later and sat down at the table beside Dean who slid his bowl of pancakes over which Ricky eagerly started to eat, mumbling a 'thank you' with his mouth full of food.

"Ricky, what time-" You started to say before he cut you off.

"I don't wanna be called Ricky anymore." He announced, putting his fork down and looking over at you across the kitchen.

You paused mid slice through the bread before you glanced over at Daryl who met your gaze with an equally confused and surprised expression.

"Okay." You said slowly while turning to give him your full attention. "What do you want to be called?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "dunno."

"Your proper name is Richard." Daryl said, putting the frying pan in the sink before turning to face the boys. "What 'bout that?"

Ricky scrunched his face up, "doesn't Richard mean Dick?"

Merle's laughter echoed out from the lounge room at his nephew’s words but you pointily ignored the eldest Dixon and looked back over at your son.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Carl." Ricky answered, looking down at his empty bowl with an unreadable expression.

"Carl! Get in here!" You shouted, folding your arms across your chest as you leant back against the bench and a few seconds later you brother walked into the room.

"What?" He mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes like he had only just gotten out of bed.

"Why did you tell my son that Richard means Dick?"

That questioned seemed to snap Carl out of his tiredness and he stood up a bit straighter as his eyes swept between you, the boys, Daryl and back to you before he sighed.

"He was talking about not wanting to be called Ricky. I thought it was better for him to hear it from me rather than some other kid at school."

Ricky rolled his eyes, "you just wanted to end the conversation so you could go make out with Enid."

Daryl quickly covered up his laugh with a fake cough and you smirked behind your hand as Carl's eyes widened like his biggest secret had just been exposed. That kid definitely had a crush on this Enid girl.

"He's always hanging around Enid." Dean informed, looking over at you and Daryl.

"I am not." Carl exclaimed defensively.

"Isn't she dating Ron anyway? Why do you spend so much time with her?" Ricky questioned.

"I'm not discussing this with a couple of children."

"Children?" Ricky repeated, with a small chuckle of disbelief. "I'm not even two years younger than you and could kick your ass."

“In your dreams."

"Okay. Let's go." Ricky abruptly stood up from his chair, but Daryl was quick to move and stepped forward, grabbing his son by the back of his shirt.

"Alright, that's enough." Daryl ordered.

"We don't fight with family." You stated, pushing yourself away from the bench and walking over to them.

"Dad and Uncle Merle fight all the time." Ricky grumbled.

"Uncle Merle and I argue all the time. But we don't physically fight." Daryl explained, pushing Ricky back down into his chair.

Merle chose that moment to walk back into the kitchen with a shit eating grin. He opened his mouth about to correct Daryl and inform the kids that the two of them had definitely fought physically while they were younger and even when they were adults, but you quickly pointed at him and gave him a stern look causing Merle to snap his mouth shut instantly.

"We don't fight family. Okay? There's too much we have to fight these days, we shouldn't be fighting each other too." You simply explained, looking between the Dixons and Carl. "Now, Carl come get some breakfast. Boys put your bowls in the sink and go get changed for school."

"Thanks, and I'm sorry." Carl apologised, looking over at Ricky.

"Sorry too." Ricky replied.

Carl nodded before he swiped a few pancakes from the plate on the bench before he walked out the kitchen and went back upstairs to his bedroom.

"You would've won the fight." Dean whispered, leaning over to his brother.

Ricky smirked a little and Daryl snorted as the boys stood up and put their dishes in the sink before wandering off to go get ready for school.

Merle watched them walk off before he turned back towards the two of you, "they're definitely Dixons."

"I don't know if that's a good thing." You sighed, picking up the knife to finish cutting the sandwiches into triangles.

"It probably ain't. But it's funny as fuck." Merle responded.

Daryl rolled his eyes, "don't ever tell 'em about the fights we used to have."

"So, I shouldn't bring up the time you kicked me in the nuts, and I gave you a bloody nose when we were their age?" Merle asked, although by the sheepish tone in his voice it was clear he already knew the answer.

"Never tell that story." You said over your shoulder.

"Oh, come on. It had a nice ending. We made up 'n went squirrel hunting... then nearly got lost in the woods, but we made it back in one piece."

"Barely." Daryl muttered, walking over to the sink to start washing the dishes.

"I got the dishes. You get your brother out the house before I throw this peanut butter sandwich at him." You instructed, wrapping one of the sandwiches while Merle snickered from across the kitchen.

"On it." Daryl replied, leaning over and placing a gentle kiss to your temple before he walked out the kitchen, grabbing his brother's arm along the way and dragging him out the room.

You chuckled softly under your breath, wrapping the last sandwich before placing them both on the kitchen table for your sons to grab soon. You got to quick work with the dishes and your father wandered back in with his and Michonne’s plates and grabbed a towel to help.

You handed your father a bowl which he took and began to dry off with a towel, but your eyes lingered on the butterfly stitches still covering the worst of the cuts on his face after the fight he had with Pete not too long ago.

Pete had been dangerous. He needed to be stopped and although a lot of the civilians in town were now fearful and untrusting of your father, you backed him 100% for what he did. Pete had to be stopped, so Rick killed him. It was as simple as that.

"How's the face?" You asked, eyeing the still healing bruises and cuts.

"It's probably seen better days." Your dad admitted with a chuckle. "It's fine though, doesn't hurt."

You nodded satisfied with that answer before you went back to washing the last bowl in the sink before pulling the plug to drain the water.

"Did Daryl tell you that we're doing a test run today?" Rick asked a few seconds later.

“Yeah. Are you sure you don't need me out there? I can help."

"I know you can." Rick smiled, putting the bowl down to look at you. "But we need to keep a few fighters here to look after everyone."

You sighed but didn't argue any further.

A few days prior Rick discovered a giant horde of walkers stuck in the quarry not too far from town. The horde were trapped inside by two semi-trucks blocking the exit, but apparently the trucks looked very close to shifting and once they did, that horde would be led straight to Alexandria.

A horde that size would barge straight through the walls, destroying everything.

So, a plan was set.

With Daryl on his bike, and Merle and Abraham in a car, they were going to lead the horde 20 miles away in the opposite direction. Rick had put together another group to be on either side of the horde and redirecting the dead if they started to veer off track.

The plan sounded simple enough, but you knew it had the possibility of turning south at the drop of a hat.

"Fresh coffee anyone?" Carol asked from somewhere behind you.

You turned around to find the woman standing by the bench pouring herself a cup of coffee. How long has she been standing there for?

"I'd love one, thanks." You wiped your hands on the end of Ricks towel before walking over to Carol who handed you a mug with a gentle smile.

You took a sip of the coffee before making your way out the front door to enjoy the warm drink peacefully on the porch.

"You got a better idea bro?" Daryl's voice snapped.

You looked up to find him and Merle by the motorcycle on the road in front of the house. Daryl was knelt beside the bike and seemed to be securing something with a cable tie while Merle stood behind him with a disapproving scowl.

"Yeah. Don't fucking break it next time."

"Real fuckin' helpful, thanks." Daryl muttered, glaring up at his brother over his shoulder.

Well, so much for drinking your coffee in peaceful silence.

Ricky suddenly walked out the front door with his backpack in his hand, "can I help?"

You looked over at the brothers by the bike before glancing through the front window at the clock on the wall inside the house.

"Only for a few minutes otherwise you'll be late for school." You explained.

"Come hold this for me. You'll be better help then your one-armed uncle over here." Daryl muttered, pointing the spanner at Merle.

"Screw you too." Merle responded.

Ricky dropped his backpack by your feet before running down the porch steps eager to help his dad with the bike. You leant against the railing sipping on your coffee while you watched the three of them together.

Daryl was patient, explaining things to Ricky while he worked, and your son nodded along with a hard look of concentration on his face trying to soak it all in.

"Ricky forgot his sandwich." Dean's voice suddenly said.

You glanced over your shoulder to find your youngest walking out the door with his backpack over his shoulders and his brother’s sandwich in his hand. He spotted Rickys bag by your feet and unzipped it, placing the sandwich inside without having to be asked and you smiled proudly at him.

"Thanks, sweetie. You ready for school?"

Dean nodded, "Carl already left though. He went out the back door."

Carl always walked to school with Ricky and Dean. Why would he sneak out the back door without them?

"He's ditching us for Enid." Dean further explained noticing your confusion.

Of course, he was.

"I can walk you boys to school if you want?"

"It's just down the road, mama." Dean rolled his eyes like your offer was totally ridiculous and you smiled softly at his reaction, but sorta hurt at the same time.

When did your boys get so grown up? It wasn't that long ago you were pushing them around in strollers before the dead were walking.

Time was going too quick.

"Can I just be called Rick? Like Grandpa?" Ricky suddenly said, standing up from where he had been kneeling beside the bike. He looked between Daryl and Merle before glancing over at you with wide hopeful eyes wanting your approval.

"Of course, sweetie. Rick is a good name, isn't it?" You said, glancing down at Dean who nodded.

"I think Rick is a mighty fine name." Your father suddenly said, walking out the front door with Judith in his arms.

"Of course, you do. You're bias." You replied quietly over your shoulder before looking back at Ricky. "You boys should head to school before you're late."

Dean quickly grabbed his brothers backpack before racing down the porch steps and jogging over to him. Ricky grabbed the bag, slinging it over his shoulders before they both waved goodbye as they walked down the street.

"Have a good day!" You shouted after them.

You leant back against the porch railing and watched your boys until they disappeared around the corner in the direction of school.

"Are you able to watch Judith? I gotta talk with Tobin and the others before doing the test run." Rick suddenly said, walking over to you.

"Of course."

He handed you the little girl who had gotten a lot bigger since you first arrived at Alexandria. Why were they all growing up so fast?

"Dixon’s, you good to head out in 20?" Rick asked, walking down the porch towards them and they both nodded.

"I'll go tell Abe and the others." Merle said, already making his way to the house next door.

Daryl continued to tinker away with his bike, and you finally got to enjoy some peacefulness with your morning coffee. Judith sat on your hip while you sipped away at your coffee enjoying the beautiful morning.

You sat down on the porch swing and bounced Judith on your knee. Your baby sister babbled away happily with not a care in the world. She had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow with the horde. So much could go wrong. So much could-

"Stop." Daryl's voice suddenly called out, snapping you from your thoughts.

He walked up the porch steps wiping grease from his hands before tucking the red rag into his back pocket and sitting down beside you.

"I can hear you thinkin'. Stop." He elaborated.

"I just have a bad feeling about this."

"It's gonna be fine. That's why Rick wants to do this test run today. If we find any issues with the plan, we will fix 'em before tomorrow."

Daryl pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his vest and lit one with his zippo before taking a deep drag. He exhaled the smoke with a turn of his head and held the burning cigarette away from Judith who was still in your lap and now fiddling with the dog tags around your neck.

"There's nothin' to worry 'bout." Daryl reassured.

You nodded, "I guess you're right.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence with your coffee and cigarette while Judith cooed and babbled softly to herself. Once Daryl finished his cigarette he reached over and picked up Judith from your lap and held the little girl against his chest, and you weren't surprised when she fell asleep against him almost instantly.

"I kinda miss the boys being this small." He randomly commented.

You glanced over at him taking in Judiths sleeping form and Daryl’s warm smile as he rubbed her back soothingly.

"They look cute as babies, but at least now we don't have any diapers to change or 3am feedings with the boys." You pointed out.

"That stuff ain't so bag."

You raised your eyebrows, "yeah? I'll tell my dad that and he'll have you on diaper duty for Judith."

Daryl snorted softly and opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t get the chance.

"Ready to get this show on the road?" Abraham's voice called out.

You looked up to find the redhead and Merle walking out the house next door. Daryl sighed but stood up and you did as well before he gently handed Judith back to you, the little girl still fast asleep.

"I'll see you later. Be safe." You said, leaning over and placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Carol's making a casserole for dinner. Try not to be late."

Daryl smiled, kissing you again before pulling away, his hand on your shoulder.

"Yes, ma'am."

You rocked Judith in your arms and watched Daryl join up with Merle and Abe before they walked away in the direction of the main gate where Rick and the others were no doubt waiting.

"I think Ron blames me for his father’s death. He hates me now." Jessie admitted with a heavy sigh.

You and Carol had decided to check in on Jessie after Pete's very public death recently. She was relieved that her abusive husband was dead, but her eldest son wasn't too happy.

"He'll come around." You reassured, not really knowing what else to say in this situation.

"How do you know?"

That was a good question.

You didn't know. You didn't know Jessie or Ron very well. But you had forgiven your father. The situations were drastically different, but if you could forgive Rick after spending over a decade hating him, you were sure Ron could forgive his mother.

"How do I know?" You repeated and Jessie nodded. "Because I used to hate Rick."

Jessie's eyes widened into saucers at your words, but you weren't going to tell her the details of that. It was none of her business and you and Rick had moved on.

"Why did you hate him? Rick is such a nice man. He's always so kind and helpful, and I know a few people are weary of him after he killed Pete, but don't worry, I'm not. Rick is a good man."

Right, you had forgotten about Jessie's massive crush on your father.

And now you remembered why you avoided hanging out with her. It felt like the real housewives whenever you hang out with her and the other mothers of Alexandria, all they did was gossip and talk about how attractive Rick Grimes was. You hated it.

"He is a good man, isn't he Y/N?" Carol responded, glancing over at you while hiding her smirk behind a coffee mug.

She knew you didn't like Jessie when she talked about your father. It was just weird listening to a woman gush and swoon over Rick like he was some kind of movie star.

You nodded, trying to play nice, "he is."

"He really is. You're both lucky to have him in your lives. I'll admit, I wasn't too sure of him when you all first showed up, but once he shaved that beard... oh, boy." Jessie continued to ramble, but you drained out her words and turned your attention to Judith who was playing with her toys on the carpet.

"Y/N?"

You looked up to find Jessie standing in the doorway. You hadn’t even realised that she got off the couch.

"I was just saying if Rick ever needs his hair cut, can you tell him that I'll be happy to do it?" She said with a bright smile before she walked out the room.

"I wonder why." You muttered under your breath.

Carol chuckled from the other couch, "give her a break. She just has a little crush on him."

"A little?"

"Okay. A big crush."

"It's gross." You responded.

Carol smirked, "it's entertaining."

"Well, I'm glad my uncomfortableness is entertaining for you." You said sarcastically.

Carol rolled her eyes before standing up from the couch and picking Judith up from the ground. "I'm gonna start making that casserole for dinner."

You quickly stood up too, "don't you dare leave me here with my dad’s wannabe lover."

"It'll be rude if we both just suddenly leave." Carol pointed out.

Yeah. That was true.

Jessie finally returned with a fresh cup of coffee but paused when she noticed you both standing.

"Sorry I-" Carol started to say but you cut her off.

"Sorry I need to go. Now that Pete is gone, it's just me and Denise with some form of medical background. I should go see how she's going. Bye."

You were out the door before either woman could say anything else. Was that rude? Probably. But if you had to sit there and deal with Jessie's over friendliness towards you just because of her crush on your dad, you would snap.

So, you began to make your way down the street because your excuse to leave was actually true. Neither you nor Denise were qualified to be a doctor, but you were the only choice Alexandria had.

You walked through the front door of the infirmary to find Denise sitting on the floor with an open book in her lap and thicker medical textbooks stacked up beside her.

"Hey. How are you doing?"

Denise looked up at your voice, pushing her glasses back in place as she gave you a tight smile.

"I'm okay... it's hard being the new doctor. I'm a little nervous." She admitted.

"I might not be as trained as you, but I still have some medical training and I'm always here to help."

Your words seemed to relax the other woman slightly as she closed the book in her lap and looked up at you properly.

"I'm a psychiatrist. I went to med school. I was even going to be a surgeon, but after the panic attacks I got really interested in psychology. Now I wish I had stuck to being a surgeon." She chuckled nervously. "I'm really trying to lower expectations here."

You smiled, "you and me both. But we can learn and get better together. What are you studying at the moment?"

"Veins and arteries." She answered, picking up the textbook. "Not very exciting."

"Well, let's make it exciting."

The next 30 minutes were spent sitting on the floor of the infirmary together studying the textbook about veins and arteries which, yeah, wasn't that exciting, but Denise appreciated the help.

Denise began writing a cheat sheet on a blackboard and you grabbed a piece of chalk to help her when sudden screaming erupted from outside.

"What the hell?" Denise questioned, looking up from the cheat sheet in confusion.

You were already on your feet and rushing to the window to see what was happening. Your mouth parted in a silent scream when you saw a man standing in the middle of the street cutting the limbs from a dead body on the road.

What the fuck?

A woman suddenly ran screaming from her house across the road, catching the man’s attention and you watched in horror as he threw the axe at her, the blade spearing straight through her chest. Another man marched out the very same house with a knife in his hand, no doubt the reason why she had been screaming in the first place and the man grinned when he saw her dead body.

Holy fuck.

Alexandria was under attack.

"What's going on out- Oh my God!" Denise shrieked, seeing the bodies across the street.

Both men spun around at her voice, and you quickly covered her mouth with your hand and pulled her down below the window out of sight. You held Denise in front of you, neither of you daring to speak. Denise kept her petrified eyes locked with yours and you slowly lowered your hand from her mouth before putting an index finger to your lips in a hushing motion.

Denise nodded ever so slightly before you lifted your head and peaked out the window to find both men marching towards the infirmary. You quickly reached for your knife, but nothing was there.

Looking down you came to the horrible realisation that you had forgotten to put your weapons belt on this morning. It was still sitting on the desk in your bedroom. You hadn’t even thought about it, hell, if you were being honest, you probably hadn’t worn it for a while. You had become complacent in Alexandria. Too complacent.

You spared a quick glance to the front door but knew there wasn’t enough time to lock it.

Shit.

"They're coming. I need a weapon." You whispered, your eyes frantically scanning the room for anything you could use before Denise grabbed a scalpel off the bench beside her.

"I-I can't fight. I don't know how.”

You took the tool from her and stood up, ushing her across the room, "hide in the back room. Use the scissors on the desk and stab anyone who enters. Got it?"

You didn’t wait for her to answer before you closed the door, shutting her away safely before you ducked down behind one of the gurneys just as the front door slammed open.

The men slowly entered, surveying the room as they walked around. You watched their boots from under the gurney, the scalpel gripped tightly in your hand.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are. We know you're in here."

One of them began walking in your direction and you raised the scalpel in front of you defensively. Just as the man stepped past the gurney, you stabbed the blade through his thigh, sliding it in deep to hit the artery.

The man shouted in pain, and you yanked the scalpel out, relieved when blood instantly started to gush from the wound. You jumped to your feet and sprinted across the room away from him and only just managed to duck out the way when his axe came flying through the air. It whizzed past your head and imbedded into the wall behind you with a loud bang.

The man began to rush towards you, but only made it a few steps before his body collapsed to the ground from blood loss, his entire pant leg stained a deep crimson.

The commotion caught the other guy’s attention because he walked out the small room he had been searching and froze when he saw his friend lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. His dark eyes flashed over to you and his expression hardened.

"You're fucking dead."

You spun around and grabbed the wooden handle of the axe to pull it from the wall, but it was stuck. You could hear the man getting closer behind you as you pulled and yanked at the axe, but it wouldn't budge.

His footsteps thundered behind you, and you ducked to the left and turned to face him just as the man swung his knife but missed and stumbled forward from the momentum of the swing not expecting you to dodge it. You slashed the scalpel across his throat and jumped backwards trying to put some distance between you.

The man opened his mouth, but no words came out as he grabbed his neck just as blood began to flow from the thin but lethal cut. He gasped and choked, blood seeping between his fingers at his failing attempt to stop the flow, and within a minute, he was dead on the floor.

You quickly knelt and pried the knife from his hand before stabbing the blade through his skull to stop him from turning.

"Denise, it's all clear. You can come out!" You shouted, walking over to the other guy who was now also dead, and you stabbed his head too.

The door to the back room creaked open and Denise hesitantly stepped out with the scissors gripped in her hand tightly. Her eyes flashed between you and the dead bodies in pure shock.

"How-how did you do that?" She stuttered.

"Femoral artery." You said pointing at the first guy before pointing to the other. "And carotid arteries. Turns out that textbook was actually useful."

Denise just stared at you in shock before shaking her head and letting out a hysterical laugh. You smiled, laughing with her. Nothing about this was even remotely funny, but you couldn't help it.

"Do you think there's more?" She asked once she managed to stop laughing.

Your stomach dropped.

The boys.

The clock on the wall told you that school was finished for the day. Where would your kids be?

"I have to find my kids."

"What do I do?"

"Stay here. Lock the door behind me." You instructed and Denise nodded following you to the front door. "I'll come back as soon as I can."

"Go. Be careful." She replied, giving you a nervous smile before you walked out the door and she hurriedly locked it behind you.

You ducked around the side of the infirmary and jogged around the back of Alexandria along the fence line behind the houses, using the buildings as cover compared to the open main street. People were still screaming, and you wanted to help them, but not until you knew your boys were safe. They were the only things that mattered.

Suddenly a crash boomed across the community and the tall wall beside you shuttered before a very loud horn sounded and didn't turn off.

Where the hell was that coming from?

You didn't get long to wonder what was happening because the next thing you knew, your body was slammed into the metal wall, hard. You threw your arm back, trying to stab whoever was attacking you, but they knocked the weapon from your grasp.

The person spun you around, your back now pinned to the wall and you came face to face with a 'W' scarred into the man’s forehead.

Wait... Daryl told you about the people that jumped him and Aaron during their last run out the walls, he said they had W's on their heads. This had to be them.

The man in front of you snarled, exposing his crooked yellow teeth before his hands wrapped around your neck tightly.

He lifted your body until your feet weren’t touching the ground, your back pressed against the wall behind you. The fingers around your throat were like a vice getting tighter and tighter by the second.

The horn was still blasting loudly in the background, drowning out the screams of civilians and you stared at the scarred W, thinking this was the end.

Daryl hadn't been expecting to lead a horde of walkers away from Alexandria today.

The test run had turned into the real thing when one of the trucks blocking the horde in the quarry tipped over and that was all it took for the horde to spill out.

The plan was simple enough. He just had to ride his bike alongside Merle and Abraham in their car, leading the horde down the main road in the opposite direction of Alexandria. The others were going to be on either side of the horde, stopping any stragglers from wandering off and leading the horde away from the road.

It was a simple plan.

So how the fuck did it go so wrong?

Daryl had no idea, but there was shouting and commotion coming from the walkie talkie strapped to his shoulder and he had no clue what was going on.

"Rick!" He shouted into the walkie, raising his voice above the loud rumble of his bike's engine and growls from the dead behind him.

"I'm here."

"What's goin' on back there?"

"Half of them broke off. They're going toward Alexandria." Rick responded through the walkie.

Daryl's heart skipped a beat. Half of the walkers were now heading towards Alexandria? Towards his wife and kids? How did half the horde suddenly turn back around in the opposite direction?

"Towards you?" Abraham's voice questioned over the radio.

"We ran ahead. There's a horn or something loud coming from the east. It's not stopping."

Daryl reached for the walkie on his shoulder and held in the button before shouting, "I'm gonna gas it up, turn back."

"We have it. You keep going." Rick ordered.

Daryl gritted his teeth and shook his head. No, he couldn't just keep going, not when his family were in danger.

"They're gonna need our help." He said instead.

"Gotta keep the herd moving!" Rick insisted over the radio.

"Not if it's goin' down, we don't!"

"The rest of that herd turns around, the bad back there gets worse."

Daryl kept his hand on the walkie, but remained silent as a million different thoughts and scenarios ran through his head and he had absolutely no idea what to do. Rick always called the shots and Daryl usually agreed, but not with this. Not when you and the boys were back in Alexandria where half the herd were heading.

"Daryl?" Rick called through the radio.

"Yeah, I heard ya." He reassured before dropping his hand with a heavy sigh.

He glanced over his shoulder at the herd of walkers behind him before looking over at his brother in the passenger seat of the car. Merle was already looking straight at him with a shake of his head, knowing exactly what Daryl wanted to do.

He rode the bike over closer to the car, "hey! We gone five miles out yet?"

"Give or take some yardage. You got a reason for asking?" Abraham questioned, glancing over at him from behind the wheel.

Merle was still shaking his head, but Daryl chose to ignore it.

"Next intersection we're gonna spin around 'n go back."

"We have our orders, baby brother." Merle reminded. "The plan is to go 15 more."

"Yeah, I'm gonna change that. Five's gonna have to work."

"The magic number's 20. That's the mission. That's making sure they're off munching on infirm raccoons the rest of their undead lives instead of any of us." Abe responded sternly.

"You wanna go, ain't no way we can stop ya. But without you, they could stop us." Merle pointed out, motioning towards the dead behind them. "Y/N can take care of herself. Alexandria will be fine."

Daryl glanced between the two men in the car for a moment before focusing back on the road ahead, deep in thought.

What the hell was he meant to do?

He couldn’t just not do anything when his wife and kids were going to be in danger. And why was a horn honking near Alexandria? Something was definitely wrong, he could feel it in his gut, but he couldn't just leave his brother and Abraham to do this by themselves, could he?

He remained silent, riding the bike for another minute beside the car when his eyes caught a glimpse of an old, faded Alexandria sign on the side of the road from the old days, and that was all the convincing he needed.

"Nah, I got faith in ya!" Daryl shouted, sparing one last glance at his brother and Abraham before he turned the throttle and sped off down the road.

"Daryl!" Merle yelled, but he was already gone.

The man’s bruising grip around your neck was getting tighter. Your vision was starting to fade as you tried and failed to pry his fingers away.

You were going to die. This was it.

"Get away from our mum, asshole!"

A gunshot cracked through the air and the man choking you instantly released you with a cry of pain.

Without him holding you up, you collapsed to the ground on your hands and knees gasping and coughing trying to get air back into your lungs as you grabbed your tender neck.

“Touch her again, I shoot you again.” A familiar voice warned.

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. But standing off to the left was Ricky with a handgun drawn and Dean beside him with his slingshot raised.

Holy shit.

The big man that had been choking you was standing to the side holding his now bleeding arm, but his hard eyes were locked in on Ricky. You reached blindly for your knife that you had dropped earlier just as the man began to charge straight at the kids.

“NO!” You screamed jumping to your feet just as Ricky squeezed the trigger.

The man stumbled back a step grabbing his chest before dropping to the ground, dead.

Ricky killed him.

You quickly picked up your knife from the grass before stabbing him through the skull to make sure he didn’t turn.

"Mama!" Dean called, rushing over and before you could do anything, he flung his arms around your midsection and hugged you tightly.

You sighed with relief and hugged him back before glancing over at Ricky who was still standing there with a trembling gun pointed at the dead man.

You released Dean and slowly walked over to Ricky. His eyes were wide and hands shaking while he stared down at the dead body in pure shock.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay. Give me the gun.” You said gently, carefully reaching down and grabbing the top of the Glock before slowly pulling it out of Rickys grasp. “That’s it. It’s okay. We’re all okay.”

Ricky nodded, his wide eyes finally shifting away from the body until bright blue met your hazel eyes.

“I shot the hell out of that guy, huh?”

You snorted softly at his choice of words before kneeling in front of him and grabbing his shoulder with your free hand.

“You did the right thing, kiddo. You saved us.”

“I just did what dad and Grandpa would’ve done.” Ricky mumbled, shrugging his shoulders like he was trying not to make this a big deal.

It was a big deal though.

He just killed his first person. It was a huge deal, and if the way his body trembled a little in your hold told you anything, he knew it too. Although, like a true Dixon, he wasn’t going to say it.

"Are you okay?" Ricky asked, his eyes shifting down to your neck that was probably already starting to bruise.

You nodded looking both boys in front of you up and down for any injuries, but they seemed to be okay.

"I'm fine. Are you both okay?"

Ricky nodded, glancing over at his little brother, "we're good."

“Where did you get the gun?”

“Rosita.”

“Rosita?” You repeated in confusion and Ricky nodded. “Where is she now?”

“Fighting. She gave me the gun and told us to run and hide.”

"Why are they attacking Alexandria?" Dean asked, glancing over at the dead body.

"Because they are bad men. Really bad men. So, I need you both to be brave for me, okay?"

They instantly nodded before you stood back up and walked over to the dead man. You went through his pockets trying to find anything useful before locating a pocketknife.

Better than nothing.

"Dean, here. To open the pocketknife, you flick the blade open with your thumb just like this.” You demonstrated, holding the knife out and opening it in front of him. “To close it, you do this. So, open, like this. And close like this. Here you try.”

Dean quickly tucked his slingshot in through his belt and grabbed the pocketknife before repeating your actions to open and close the knife with ease.

“Perfect. Good boy. If you have to use it, stab 'em with the pointy end." You instructed and Dean nodded before you held your hunting knife out to Ricky who took it without hesitation. “You okay?” You asked carefully, knowing that killing a man wasn’t easy, especially for a kid.

“I’m good. What’s the plan?” Ricky asked, determination on his face.

“We're going to our house. We’ll be moving quickly and quietly, so stick to me like glue."

"Like glue." They both repeated.

You nodded, "c'mon."

To your relief, the boys listened and were right behind you with each step as you rushed around the back of Alexandria in the direction of your house.

Not even 10 steps later, you ducked down behind a cluster of bushes, pulling your sons down beside you when a man with a machete stepped out the back door of a house.

Droplets of blood beaded down the stained blade while the man stormed around the side of the house, heading for the main road completely oblivious to you three hiding nearby.

The boys remained silent beside you, their wide eyes watching the bad man nervously and once he was out of sight you motioned for them to follow before continuing to make your way to your house.

Ricky and Dean followed you like shadows all the way to the house and you opened up the back door only to be met with a barrel of a rifle.

"Easy. Easy. It's me." You hurriedly said, raising your hands as you looked over the gun at your brother.

His eyes widened and he quickly lowered it before stepping to the side letting you three into the house. You locked the back door behind you before glancing around the house, realising that Carl was alone.

"Where are the others?"

"Judith is locked in her room. Carol is out there somewhere, and Dads group isn't back yet." Carl answered.

Shit. Okay. That meant most of Alexandria’s fighters weren't here.

Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Tara and Aaron. Were they the only others left in the town that could fight? Surely there were others that could fight. There had to be.

"Okay. You boys stay inside, guard the house and protect Judith." You ordered.

Carl nodded, "nobody is getting inside this house."

"Wait, you're not going back out there, are you?" Dean asked in sudden panic.

"That woman nearly killed you." Ricky reminded.

"I have to go. These attackers don't have guns, so I can't let them find the armoury." You explained because if these people found all the guns, the community was screwed.

"Then I'll come with you." Ricky responded.

"No. You need to stay here. Give me the knife and take this.” You said, holding out the Glock towards him.

“But you need it.”

“I’ll get a gun from the armoury. Take it. Protect Judith and protect each other, okay?"

Your eldest looked like he wanted to argue further but realised now was not the time, so he reluctantly nodded trading the knife for the Glock before you glanced over at Carl.

"We got this." Your brother insisted. "Go."

"Lock it behind me." You instructed, walking through the back door once again.

You didn't leave until you heard the click of the bolt confirming that the door was locked.

The armoury was priority number one.

You needed to secure the armoury, get a gun and then find the others. One-on-one against these guys would be bad but if you were together, you'd stand a chance.

The loud honking had finally stopped, but you barely noticed while you ran along the side of the house, peaking out into the main street.

There were a few attackers running around with various melee weapons, but none had any guns. Good.

Once the attackers had turned their backs, you sprinted along the side of the street while they weren’t looking. You ducked and weaved out of trees and bushes for cover until someone suddenly stepped out from behind a porch and yanked you behind the porch steps.

You raised your knife to attack the person, but then they quickly lowered the bandana from their face and removed the black hood over their head.

"Carol?" You whispered in shock.

She was wearing their clothes and had W painted on her forehead with what looked to be blood. She was camouflaging with them. Genius.

"It's me. Here."

She pulled out a scoped rifle from her shoulder which you quickly grabbed, pulling the bolt back to check the chamber before throwing it over your shoulder with the strap.

"You went to the armoury?" You asked as she pulled out a handgun and handed it over as well.

"Yeah, it's secure. Olivia is locked inside with a gun to shoot anyone who tries to enter." She explained like she could read your mind. "There's not many left. Morgan doesn’t want to kill them, but you can."

Wait, Morgan was back? Why was he back and not the others?

"You can count on me." You replied, figuring those questions could wait.

Carol handed over spare magazines which you hastily pocketed before a scream across the street caught your attention.

You leant out from behind the porch step and quickly pulled the rifle from your shoulders when you spotted a woman sprinting from a man with a knife.

Holding the butt of the gun securely against your shoulder, you lined up the crosshairs of the scope with the man before aiming slightly in front of him and squeezing the trigger.

"Nice shot." Carol observed from beside you as the man's body fell to the ground, dead. "I can blend in with these people, but I need you up high with that sniper. Can you do that?"

You glanced up at the house behind you noting the upstairs window. That would work.

"Give me a minute to get into place and I'll be your sniper."

Carol nodded before you jumped to your feet and rushed up the porch steps into a stranger’s house. You had no idea whose house this was, but it didn't matter. Nobody was inside and within a minute, you had the window open on the second floor with the sniper raised.

Carol was still hidden by the porch steps waiting for you to get into position. You weren't entirely sure how to signal to her that you were ready, but when you spotted another attacker across the street, you lined up the sights and fired a shot.

The man, like the other, instantly fell to the ground, dead.

A few seconds later, Carol dashed across the street and stabbed her knife into the two men you had just killed, hitting their brains so they couldn't come back to life.

You watched Carol through the scope as she made her way around the community camouflaging in with the attackers and stabbing them when they least expected it, and the ones that fought back, you easily shot.

She was badass. No other word for it.

During your time in Alexandria, Carol had been playing the 'innocent housewife' she had the whole community of Alexandria fooled into thinking that she was a weak defenceless woman, but you knew the truth, and despite the situation, it was nice to see her in action.

You pulled the bolt back, ejecting the empty bullet shell just when you caught a glimpse of Aaron fighting with a man down beside a house further down the road.

Actioning the bolt, you loaded a bullet in the chamber before lining up the crosshairs over the bad guy’s head, but you couldn't pull the trigger, not when Aaron was in the line of fire. He continued to fight against the man, but it was a losing battle, and he clearly knew it too.

Aaron took a swing at his attacker causing the bad man to stumble back a step at the unexpected hit and that was all you needed before you squeezed the trigger. The gunshot rung out across the community and the man fell to the ground with a bullet hole through his head.

Aaron jumped backwards in surprise, his wide eyes scanning his surroundings trying to locate where the gunshot had come from before he spotted you up in the window and he nodded his thanks. You gave him a two fingered salute before actioning the bolt again and scanning Alexandria through the scope.

"Glenn. I'm in place by my best guess. You guys make it back yet?" Ricks voice suddenly said through the radio, followed by silence. "Glenn? Tobin, you there?"

Daryl's bad feeling from earlier was worsening by the second when the others stopped responding through the radio.

"Daryl?" Rick said after a few beats of silence.

He reached for the radio with his free hand, "I'm here."

"Won't be long now." Rick explained, relief evident through his tone after someone replied to him. "They're almost here. I'll get them going your way again."

"How 'bout that, brother? He's gonna be comin' our way." Merles cocky voice suddenly said over the radio and Daryl fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"There's gunfire coming from back home." Rick suddenly said.

Daryl squeezed the brakes so hard, he nearly crashed the bike as he came to a sudden halt in the middle of the road.

"What?!" He shouted into the radio.

"There's gunfire coming from Alexandria." Rick repeated calmly. "We gotta sit with it and hope they can handle it. I think they can. They have to."

"And if they can't? Y/N is in Alexandria, Rick!" Daryl all but shouted.

"I know. But we have to keep going forward for her, for them all. Can't turn back 'cause we're afraid."

"We ain't afraid." Abraham's voice pipped up.

"Going back now before it's gone, that'd be for us." Rick continued to say.

"Man, I don't give a shit. My wife 'n kids are in trouble." Daryl snapped, unable to hold back his anger any longer as he tapped the bike into gear and sped off down the road.

He couldn't risk losing them. Not now. Not after everything you guys had survived. He couldn't. He wouldn't survive if they didn't. No way.

"You think I don't know that?!" Rick snapped back. "She might be your wife, but Y/N is my daughter. She's my little girl. I hate this as much as you do. Carl and Judith are back there too, but we have to do this for them. Y/N and the others can handle whatever is going on. I know my daughter can do it and she will. Look, the herd has to be almost here-"

Ricks voice got cut off by sudden gunfire through the walkie talkie and Daryl hastily grabbed the walkie from his shoulder, heart pounding in his chest.

"Rick? Rick?!"

When he didn't receive any answers, he skidded the motorcycle to a rapid halt in the middle of the road once again.

"Rick? Rick? Rick?" He continued to shout, but no answer.

He growled letting go of the walkie and grabbing both handlebars. His fingers tightened around them as he lowered his head and took in a few deep breaths to calm himself.

He had to go back. He had to finish the job and help lead the remaining horde away.

"Fuck!" He screamed in frustration before pulling the clutch in and turning around.

You had lost count of the number of bad guys you had shot, but by the amount of bullet casings on the floor by your feet, it was a lot.

There was no sign of anymore bad guys though. The streets of Alexandria below were finally quiet. No more screaming, no crying, no horn honking, nothing.

Was it over?

God, you hoped it was over.

Throwing the rifle over your shoulder, you stood up from your position by the window before making your way downstairs and out the house.

You walked down the main street of Alexandria with your handgun grasped firmly by your side as you took in the sight around you. Dead bodies of innocent Alexandrians littered the empty street like a massacre. The bodies of the attackers laid dead around you too, blood staining the bitumen road and once green grass of the community.

It felt like you were in a scene from a horror movie while you stepped over the dead, stabbing them all through the skulls just to be on the safe side.

"Help-help me, p-please." A weak voice suddenly called out.

Your head snapped to the side and your eyes widened when you saw one of the Alexandrian housewives laying on their front lawn in a pool of their own blood.

Fuck, that wasn't good.

You rushed over, dropping to your knees beside the woman to find a very large gash across her stomach that was bleeding heavily, too heavily. The woman reached up, grabbing your shirt for dear life, her bloodied fingers staining your white shirt a bright crimson.

"It's okay. I got you. It's okay." You reassured, pulling your unzipped jacket off before bundling it up and pressing it down against her stomach causing the woman to cry out in pain. "Shh. It's going to be fine. You're going to be fine."

That was a total lie, and she probably knew it too.

There was too much blood. Even if you could get her to the infirmary, her entire stomach was cut open and there was no way you nor Denise would be able to do that kind of surgery to fix it.

Her body was trembling below you, but you kept pressure on the large wound because you weren't sure what else to do. Although, after a couple of minutes her fingers fell from your shirt and her body stilled.

She was dead.

"Shit." You let out a shaky sigh, dropping your hands from the bloodied jumper against her stomach.

Warm blood dripped from your fingers onto the grass as you sat there on your knees unmoving while you stared down at her.

"She's gone." Morgan's voice suddenly said.

Yeah, no shit.

You glanced over your shoulder to find the man walking over to you, his wooden staff resting on his shoulder.

"I know." You sighed, "where are the others? What happened?"

"The trucks at the quarry fell. We had to do the plan now."

"Now? As in move the horde now?" You questioned in pure shock, and he nodded. "But that horn from earlier-"

"Is drawing half the herd here, right now. Yes."

"Fuck." You hissed under your breath. "What caused the horn?"

"A truck hit the front wall. Those attackers tried to break it down. It didn't work."

"Is the wall still standing?"

"It is." He nodded, and you sighed with relief.

If half that herd of walkers was heading straight for Alexandria, you needed that wall up. Although, you weren't entirely sure how useful any of these walls would be against a large herd. If enough of them pushed against it, it would break.

You slowly stood up on unsteady feet. All your adrenaline from earlier disappearing fast as the shock of this whole situation started to set in.

"Are you okay?" Morgan asked, noticing your unsteadiness.

Nope.

"Yeah."

Daryl, Rick and Merle were still out there somewhere. The street of Alexandria was covered in dead bodies. A herd of walkers were heading straight for the community. No, you definitely weren't okay.

"I gotta go." You said, already walking off in the direction of the infirmary.

There wasn't much you could do for the dead, but you could at least help Denise with the injured. However, when you stepped through the front door of the infirmary you realised that there weren’t any patients inside, alive ones at least.

Denise was halfway through covering a woman’s body with a blanket over one of the gurneys when she paused and looked up, hearing the front door open.

Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears, but seemed to be determined to not let them fall as she gave you a sad smile and lowered the blanket over the blonde woman’s head.

"Is it over?" Denise asked, her voice so small you nearly missed it.

"It's over." You confirmed.

She sighed with relief before collapsing down on the stool by the bench that Tara was sitting at.

"How many are injured? I can help you guys-" Tara started to say before you cut her off.

"None. All the ones that were injured are dead. I tried to save... it doesn't matter." You sighed, looking down at your bloodstained shirt and hands.

"Some doctors we are." Denise mumbled, glancing over at the body under the blanket.

"At least you guys tried to save them. I mean, Holly had pretty bad wounds, there wasn't much you could do Denise, and Y/N, by the amount of blood on your shirt, I'm guessing there wasn't a lot you could do either, but you both still tried. That's gotta count for something." Tara insisted, looking between you both.

"I second that fact. You both are a lot braver than I am." Eugene said, speaking up for the first time across the room.

If you were being honest, you hadn't even realised the man was here which was probably very bad on your part, but it had been a long day.

Satisfied that your assistance wasn't needed in the infirmary, you returned back outside to find Michonne and a few of the others now inside Alexandria. But the relief of seeing them was only short lived.

After a brief conversation with Michonne, it was clear that the plan from earlier with the herd at the quarry went to shit. A lot of people died. Glenn and a few others were still missing. Daryl, Merle and Abraham were still trying to lead the main herd away with vehicles while Rick was out there somewhere trying to use the RV to drive the herd coming to Alexandria away.

It was chaos, and there was nothing you could do to help.

"Glenn will find a way to signal that he's alive." Michonne told Maggie.

"She's right." You backed up, looking between the two women. "He'll be fine. They all will be."

Maggie gave you a small smile as she nodded, but you could tell she was still worried. Hell, so were you, but you didn't want to say that aloud.

You wandered over to the ladder tied against the watch platform before you began to climb up to get a look at the truck that had apparently crashed into the front wall.

There was a large wooden tower-like structure just outside of Alexandria. It provided a good lookout point for the community. You had been up there many times, and it appeared that the truck the attackers were driving had crashed into the lower base of the tower before hitting the wall.

The tower now had a large crack through the middle of it but was still standing and must have slowed the truck down enough before it hit the wall because there wasn't much damage.

You had been expecting to find metal panels bent in or worse, fallen over, but the wall's structure was perfectly fine which was a miracle in itself.

"Open the gate!" A faint yet familiar voice shouted in the distance.

You turned your attention away from the tower and your jaw dropped in horror when you saw the mass number of walkers in the distance heading straight towards Alexandria.

Oh, no.

"Open the gate! Open the gate now!" Rick's voice shouted.

Wait, was he with the herd?

You quickly pulled the rifle from your back and looked through the scope towards the walkers and your stomach dropped when you spotted your father sprinting a few paces ahead of the herd, desperately trying to get to Alexandria before the dead.

"Open the gate!" You shouted, lowering the gun and looking down at Michonne and Maggie, who seemed to have already heard your fathers’ shouts and were yanking the front gate open.

Raising your rifle, you rested your head against the stock while looking through the scope towards your father only to find that a few walkers had stumbled out from the sides of the road, cutting him off.

Shit.

Without hesitation, you lined up the walkers and began to take them out one by one, creating a clear path for him to run. Rick spared a quick glance up at the watch platform noticing it was you with the rifle before he stopped trying to dodge the oncoming walkers, trusting you to take them out while he simply focused on running for his life.

The sudden pressure caused your finger to tremble against the trigger, but you made sure every single shot counted. You took the walkers down until your father finally sprinted through the front gate and the girls closed it behind him.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief, ejecting the last casing from the chamber before throwing the rifle over your shoulder and hurriedly rushing down the ladder of the watch platform.

Rick was hunched over by the gate, his hands resting on his knees as he breathed heavily, sucking in fast deep breaths. His body was trembling and covered in sweat like he had just run a marathon to get here which he probably did.

His left hand was bleeding from what appeared to be a cut on his palm, but other than that he didn't appear to have any other physical injuries.

"Dad, are you okay?" You questioned, rushing over.

Your voice had him lifting his head instantly and he stumbled a few steps towards you before he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you desperately.

"Thank God. Thank God. Thank God." He mumbled repeatedly while breathing heavily.

The hug caught you off guard, but you were quick to hug him back as you stared over his shoulder at the front gate where you were met with the rotten faces of walkers pressed against it, trying to get inside.

The sea of the dead had now reached Alexandria.

Part 5

MASTERLIST pinned to profile.

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the new part to this Grimes-Dixon mini series. Part 5 is coming soon, so stay tuned!

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

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calware · 2 months

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do you happen to still have any of those screenshots from then or anything . i would love to look back and see how insane i was being (ive gone through like 4 more blogs since then so all my shits probably gone </3)

i actually did save some screenshots because i wanted to delete the posts from my blog but still be able to look back on them because of how wild the whole thing was

the original post is still up

and then

i remember thinking at first that you were genuinely trying to make a callout post, and then the whole thing just devolved from there 😭 and this all happened within the span of 24 hours too. tumblr drama speedrun

#ask #rotgutinc

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kp777 · 11 months

Text

By Miles Parks

NPR

June 7, 2023

Why are Republicans abandoning one of the best tools the government has to catch voter fraud? That simple question is the focus of a new NPR investigation, published Sunday.

The tool is the Electronic Registration Information Center, better known as ERIC. It was created almost a decade ago as a way for states to share government data, in an effort to keep their voter rolls up to date. It allows election officials better insight into when their voters move and die and the rare times when they vote twice in different states, which is illegal.

"The little secret is that maybe more than 10 years ago, if somebody voted in Ohio, in Florida, in Arizona and Texas, you would have never known," Ohio Secretary of State Frank LaRose, a Republican, said in an interview with NPR in February. "With ERIC, we can compare our voter rolls to those states."

Eight Republican states have now pulled out of ERIC, including many with voting officials who are on the record as praising the partnership as recently as a few months ago. Ohio pulled out a month after LaRose spoke to NPR.

J. Christian Adams, a conservative elections attorney, has long been a critic of how ERIC operates. But he told NPR: "It's this crazy zeal to get out of ERIC ... that is going to cause voter fraud to flourish."

So what happened? Here are five takeaways from NPR's investigation:

1. A far-right website kicked things off

The story starts in January 2022, when a far-right website called the Gateway Pundit, which has pushed conspiracy theories in the past, began writing about ERIC. Up until then, the partnership was considered a quiet bipartisan success story, with member states that spanned the political spectrum.

NPR's investigations team analyzed hundreds of thousands of social media posts on a handful of social media sites frequented by election deniers. We found the Gateway Pundit's coverage started the far right's fixation on the program:

See Chart.

Roughly a week after the first Gateway Pundit article, Louisiana Secretary of State Kyle Ardoin, a Republican, announced his state would become the first to pull out of ERIC, citing "concerns raised by citizens, government watchdog organizations and media reports."

2. Local "election integrity" groups are a political force

NPR found that while Ardoin did not make a big public show out of pulling out of ERIC, he did bring the announcement to maybe the only constituents at that time who would even care: a local group of conservative activists gathered in Houma, La.

The crowd, assembled for an "election integrity town hall," applauded for 15 seconds when Ardoin announced he was pulling the state out of ERIC. The event was publicized less than 24 hours before Ardoin's office released its statement on ERIC.

NPR's investigation also found these sorts of community election integrity groups to be critical in the effort to discredit ERIC across the country.

A group called Protect Your Vote Florida published a page on its website called "How to Influence Florida Legislators to Suspend Contract with ERIC!"

"The STRATEGY is to run a campaign directed at key Florida legislators," the group wrote in the post, which included a list of the state's lawmakers and contact information. "Hand delivered letters, emails, phone calls, and social media activity will all be utilized to maximize impact."

Emails acquired by NPR through public records requests showed election officials began to field questions from voters and state lawmakers shortly after these calls went out.

3. A Trump ally has coordinated an election denial machine

Cleta Mitchell is known by many for working with former President Donald Trump to try to overturn the 2020 election. The attorney was on the infamous call where Trump asked Georgia election officials to "find votes."

In the time since, she's been building an election denial infrastructure.

Her podcast, "Who's Counting," has become a central hub for stolen election narratives, and she's also started a coalition of grassroots groups across the country called the Election Integrity Network.

NPR's investigation found Mitchell to be a ringleader of sorts for the effort to dismantle ERIC.

She even hosted a secret ERIC summit with red state lawmakers last summer, according to documents shared with NPR by a nonprofit watchdog group called Documented.

Secretaries of state from the first five states to withdraw from ERIC attended the event, according to one attendee.

See chart.

4. Republican primaries are a driving force behind the ERIC exodus

In Louisiana, when Ardoin made the decision to leave ERIC, he was gearing up to run for reelection in a state Trump won by almost 20 percentage points. He was facing numerous challenges on his right. And ERIC was becoming a priority for Republican voters.

"We started hearing it on the campaign trail," added Alabama Secretary of State Wes Allen in an interview with NPR.

Allen ran for his office last year, and shortly after the Gateway Pundit published its first article, he made a campaign promise to pull out of ERIC if he won. This January, he followed through, and Alabama became the second state to withdraw.

Secretaries of state in Missouri, West Virginia and Ohio — all states that have pulled out — have announced campaigns for higher office next year, or are expected to run.

In Florida, Gov. Ron DeSantis is a candidate for the 2024 Republican presidential nomination. DeSantis appointed Cord Byrd as his secretary of state last year, and the state's stance on ERIC shifted almost immediately.

NPR's investigation found that before he was secretary, Byrd regularly joined election integrity calls hosted by Mitchell.

5. ERIC withdrawals will make for "dirtier voter rolls" and an emboldened far right

Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, a Republican, put it simply in an interview with NPR: The states that have left ERIC "indirectly said, 'We're going to have dirtier voter rolls.' "

Brianna Lennon, a Democrat who oversees voting in Boone County, Mo., told NPR that will surely be the case in her county.

Before Missouri joined ERIC, the elections office relied on returned mail to find out if a voter moved to another state.

"That's what we'll have to go back to using," she said.

Election experts say less accurate voter rolls have a direct impact on voters, from longer lines at precincts to mail ballots and information getting sent to the wrong places.

Lennon told NPR she's worried about what the ERIC saga means for the 2024 election cycle. She had gotten a sense recently that community election integrity groups were gaining more traction in her state, but she says the secretary of state's decision was the first major policy decision she's seen that lined up so directly with their goals.

"I'm sure there are going to be ripples that come from this particular move and I'm not exactly sure what the end will be," she said. "I don't think this is an isolated thing."

Read or listen to the full investigation here.

#republicans #2024 elections #red states #rigged elections #election tampering #attempting coup

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sgiandubh · 8 months

Text

The sound of silence

With the end of August already in sight - somebody, please, tell me where did this botched summer go, all of a sudden? -, a somewhat different landscape is slowly emerging, on the S&C front.

Dare we hope? The new normal seems to be a mix of latergrams, sibylline tweets, ultra-muted innuendo (most of it the result of a couple of pundits' sterile speculations on meagre hints dropped on purpose) and secondary (even third-circle) players being conveniently called to the rescue. A low budget, almost homemade solution to keep the prayer wheels of this fandom spinning. A fandom both of these two know, by now, like the back of their hands.

For months and months in a row, I tried to understand something that puzzled me constantly: not the messages being ventilated in here, but their circuit and lifespan, if you want. For what is worth, the rinse and repeat image is fine in my book, but in no way comprehensive, nor intellectually satisfying. And then, a couple of weeks ago, I started to suddenly figure it out.

I am not going to insult you with savant jargon or Venn diagrams, rest assured. However, I need some arrows. I called it the 4 R Circuit and here we go:

(an information is being) Released (via Anons or DMs exclusively: it's never sheer luck, that is a bloody lie and a poor one, at it) -> (it then prompts a couple different) Reactions -> (followed by an almost immediate) Retcon (by the other side of this very antagonistic fandom) -> (in response, an old information is being) Recycled (thus effectively keeping the chatter alive, but re-oriented until ) -> (a new or old/new information is being) Released

Historically, the lifespan of this news cycle was never shorter than 24, but seldom (if ever) longer than 72 hours. This summer is a resolute break off this pattern, but old habits die hard: the collective attention span has been also conditioned accordingly.

And how could it be otherwise? Because neither of them had any consistent A-list level gossip history, the emerging fandom had to resume itself to their social media accounts, for a start. And boy, were we copiously spoiled, with banter and innuendo and double-entendre galore, and then with voluble Anons being simultaneously directed to the main players of all the factions. I bet it was elating. I am sure it was also great fun: a merry, sunny age of innocence. Until it wasn't and the ugly manipulative streak began its inglorious march in here. The thirst grew, and so did the stakes. Pictures, pictures or it did not happen. And when we got them, we started to immediately diss and hiss and hum and drum. In the Real World (you know, out there, where we all go every morning and are civilized, amiable people), this kind of behavior would be more than uncanny: it would be uncalled for and drastically sanctioned as such. But, I digress.

The result of this disco inferno by design is a pattern of reactivity I have never seen in my entire life. Nano-inquisitors immediately spring out of their chairs once you dare write something: why did you say that? how dare you speak your mind, you are supposed to be a stupid, stupid shipper? In the meantime, almost nobody bothers connecting the dots, finding a solid background for arguments, placing facts or speculation in a logical context. It's frowned upon. Yet, the whole experience would be way more enjoyable, if instead on focusing on idiotic and obviously doctored details, we could bring some perspective to all this hubbub.

Last case in point, this freshly baked imbecility:

We all know who the fuck Brave Heart is: the kilt obsessed, once Mightiest Troll of Mordor. The one who invented by herself the grotesque story of the Hôtel Costes Rash sightings, last April, via Anons written in painful English. Also, the one who spun, based on a friendly snap at a sportive event, the Ellenwood Innuendo, promptly ditched - it didn't stick well enough- now reactivated. A sample:

Calling all stations: there is no side exit at the Hôtel Costes' restaurant, you fool, who's been to Paris as often as I went to Oahu, which is to say never. There is a back exit, through the kitchen, madam: next time, do your damn homework properly! Unlike you, I often went there (I preferred other, less nouveau riche playgrounds, that being said), back in 1996-2002, when it still was the boldest celeb' spotting venue in town. Not anymore. And who in their right mind would bring luggage or shopping bags in a very peculiarly laid-out French restaurant, without immediately taking the risk of being a conversation stopper, a bull (heh) in a china shop?

The "have seen it with my own eyes" gave you away, this time. A classical, by the book way to spin a cheap lie.

Also, C's witty latergram, via a tertiary player. I am sure (and I will film myself eating my socks live, if proven wrong) that back in Mordor someone already came with the agit-prop retcon: "it's irrelevant when the picture was taken".

It is very relevant. July 31. One day before August 1st: I always admired her humor. But who would take the time to tell 1+1= 2?

If I could gift this fandom anything, let it be this: context is always important. Manipulation starts exactly when you stop questioning and let your brain live the 72 hours news cycle.

The only real sound of this August, on the S&C front, is the sound of silence.

I rest my case.

#fandom

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sssammich · 7 months

Note

7–late nights, your choice of ship!!!

thanks for the prompt! i've decided to combine this with two supercorptober 2023 prompts.

---

day 4: money, day 5: maroon

(this follows the events of day 2: romance)

read on ao3

crepe AU: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 day 19: hazy, day 22: art, day 24: enchanted, day 30: magic

Kara plasters on a bright smile for her last customers as she hands them a takeout container with their orders of her crepes. She leans over the counter, her head peeking past the side window, and watches them walk away, chatting all the way, until they disappear out of sight. With a deep sigh, she scans the area with few people left roaming about the park at night. Then, she glances at the clock on the wall of her truck and finds that it’s now nearing 10. It’s the latest she’s stayed at the park in weeks, not since she’d been selling out her supplies.

Her heart heavy, she slides the small cooler she’d kept at the end of the metal counter and opens it, a waft of all the ingredients she wanted to use to make Lena some of her special crepes, both savory and sweet kinds that Kara thought the other woman would like. She tipped the jar of strawberry preserves she had made from last week she wanted to add into the strawberry crème brûlée she wanted to make. And she prodded at the small container of some truffle mushroom she’d requested at the last minute from her farmer contact, J’onn, to try and impress Lena’s refined palate. It had cost her a pretty penny, but she thought the money was worth it. It wasn’t everyday she could impress the likes of someone as Lena Luthor.

She attempts her best at tempering her disappointment when hours pass and Lena doesn’t show. Admittedly, Kara had been buzzing with excited energy the whole day, her nerves only ramping up when she parked her truck at her normal spot. She’d played her favorite 2000s pop music as she prepared her ingredients until her first wave of customers passed through. She’d focused on her patrons to the best of her ability, but Kara couldn't help the way she'd scan the park for that familiar dark hair, pale skin.

Still, time ticked by, and no Lena.

Eventually her buzz fizzled out and the sinking realization that Lena wasn't going to show lodged itself in her chest. She tried to be a good sport about it, focused on ensuring the customers she did have were taken care of. But she couldn't resist the way she’d glance up. Just in case.

As she begins to slowly break her setup down, Kara reminds herself that Lena is an extremely busy woman with a lot of responsibilities on her shoulders. And though last night’s dinner together had been great, it was most likely a far departure from the business mogul’s everyday life. Kara remembers how Lena explained that she’d just ditched a bad date, and had wandered towards the park to salvage her night, and nothing more.

The night before had felt like a fever dream to her. The way she’d made such a fool of herself at the beginning as she stammered her way into a terrible first impression. Yet, as suspected, Lena had been gracious and kind in joining her and letting her serve one of her crepes. How their small talk bloomed into easy conversation—one that astounded Kara with how seamlessly they transitioned from strangers to something that could resemble friends, hours suddenly spanning between them about food and National City and life. How she’d mustered enough confidence to invite her back today, and getting rewarded by such a beautiful smile.

Idly, she wondered how the media and the press could paint Lena in such an abhorrent and vitriolic light because all Kara saw was a beautiful and intelligent woman.

Knowing there was no use in dwelling, least of all because she still had a lot of cleanup to do, she returned to her task. She quickly exits the truck and wipes her tables and chairs before folding them and leaning them against the side of the truck. She disassembles the awning and shuts the side before making her way back in where she can go through the whole ordeal of cleaning up her mess.

She taps the cooler wistfully, the once frozen blocks of ice now melted. Unable to stop herself from indulging herself in a small wallowing party, Kara presses play on a classic heartbreak ballads playlist until the powerhouse voice of Toni Braxton fills the inside of her truck.

Placing the small pan in front of her like a microphone, Kara bellows out the words, eyes closed, her heart twinging in her sadness of a missed day with a woman she’d been looking forward to seeing all day.

“Unbreak my heart, say you'll love me agai—”

Suddenly, three solid knocks interrupt Kara’s performance followed by a tentative, “Kara?”

She stills, her singing stops, just as Toni Braxton belts out the chorus one last time.

The voice pipes up again followed by three more knocks. “Kara, are you there?”

Kara’s eyes widen in alarm before she scrambles to stop her music and almost drops her phone to the ground, knocking her hip and elbow on the metal counter. She hisses from the pain, and rushes towards the side door.

Kara’s jaw drops when she finds none other than Lena Luthor right outside her truck’s door. Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail just as her body is wrapped in a maroon long coat with the belt wrapped around her waist. Kara’s face scrunches into confusion when she takes a few seconds to realize that Lena has raised her hands up in some show of peace or surrender.

“I appreciate you taking your safety seriously, Kara,” Lena says with a nod towards her. Kara follows Lena’s line of sight and looks down to find that she’s still holding the pan in front of her.

“Oh, shoot!” She immediately twists to shove the pan back on the counter before hurrying to open the truck door. “Hi! I, uh—what are you doing here?”

Lena offers her an apologetic smile before offering the plastic bag Kara is now just noticing towards her. “I thought I’d try my luck to see if you’d still be here. And I see that you are.”

“Here I am,” she breathes out, her face donning what Kara can only imagine is a goofy smile. Not wanting to further embarrass herself, she clears her throat. “So, uh, what’s in the bag?”

The perfectly curved bow of Lena’s mouth as she smiles up at her is worth waiting for, Kara thinks. And her heart treats her chest like a trampoline when she hears Lena’s next words. “An apology order of potstickers. I had my assistant look up a restaurant rated the best in the city and I got my driver to pick it up before I made it over here.”

Her brows climb up to her hairline when Kara realizes what Lena’s done. She’d met this woman only last night and somehow, she was already bringing Kara one of her favorite dishes. It’s not exactly a secret that Kara can throw down and eat an impressive amount of food. But the fact that Lena had gone through the trouble to try and catch her still to keep her promise and apologize with food that she’d just recently learned about Kara further sets ablaze her growing attraction towards this woman. She’d known it for a while now, but Kara can’t help but think that Lena was one hell of a woman.

“Wha-really? Gosh, you didn’t have to do that, Lena.” Unsure of what else to really say, she humbly accepts the bag and opens it, savoring the delicious scents of the potstickers in front of her, even as she meets a pair of apologetic green eyes.

“I know, I just didn’t want you to think I forgot about today. I had gotten caught up with a long conference call with some investors that bled into dinner. And, well…”

“I would have understood,” she insists, even as she can’t help the elation that spreads through her body at having Lena stand in front of her now. “I mean, you’re a super busy and important person and I just make crepes. I would have understood.”

Lena frowns and gestures to bring a hand forward, as if to console her, but thinks better of it and shoves them in her coat pocket. “I don’t think you’re ‘just’ anything.”

Kara’s cheeks blossoms pink from Lena’s words. How this woman has somehow upended Kara’s life in one day, she’ll never understand.

“Would you like to come in?”

It’s Lena’s turn to look surprised. “You don’t mind? It’s getting late.”

“Not at all,” she offers, shaking her head before a contemplative frown tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, but I don’t want to keep you if your driver is waiting for you? You said it yourself, it’s late, and you must be tired.”

“Maybe ten minutes?”

“That’s perfect. That’s exactly how long it would take to eat this whole tray of potstickers,” she says, bringing the bag up just as Lena had done minutes prior.

The corner of Lena’s eyes scrunch as she smiles. Kara pulls back slightly, practically leaning back into the driver seat to let Lena in. Suddenly her nostrils are filled with the scent of Lena’s expensive perfume, something slightly sweet and cozy and warm. She remembers the scent from last night, but in the smaller confines of her truck, it’s much more apparent and noticeable.

“It’s uh, you know, not much. But welcome. Would you like a tour?”

Lena peers over her shoulder and there’s an amused grin that Kara can see. “Please.”

Kara places the bag of potstickers on the counter just as she quickly points at all of her appliances, making a show of her three crepe griddle cooktops. She grins smugly when she tells Lena what she and her sister Alex had named them.

The way Lena’s jaw drops just as her eyes twinkle in amusement is one for the books, Kara thinks, and she would like to remember this image forever.

“You’re kidding,” Lena says finally.

“I’m not,” she counters just as she crosses her arms and leans against the threshold. What Kara doesn’t realize is how her shirt’s sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing her biceps—something that Lena couldn’t quite ignore.

“You really named your griddles Cash, Money, and Millionaire?”

She shrugs. “It’s about dreaming big, Lena. Remember that.”

Lena only laughs, the sound of it filtering through the interior of her truck, and Kara briefly wishes she could bottle the sound. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Delighted, Kara resumes the tour of her truck before she plucks two plastic forks from her stash and opens the potstickers tray on the counter between the two of them. They both stick their forks in a dumpling before touching them briefly to toast. For the next ten minutes, the pair of them take turns recounting parts of their day. The conversation flows just as easily as before, and Kara finds herself even more enamored with Lena than before. She must look a fool, nodding enthusiastically just as she crams the last bits of potstickers in her mouth. Yet, Lena is the same as she had been since last night—gracious and poised, kind and warm.

When she regales Lena with the story of the black cat Kara had dubbed as ‘Streaky’ who refused any of Kara’s best attempts to befriend him, Lena only giggled, placing a hand up to cover her mouth just as she was mid-chew of her potsticker. Lena Luthor was giggling in her truck, a kind of unfettered looseness in how she holds herself has Kara addicted to seeing more of it—to wanting to be the cause of that freedom. Kara can only thank her lucky stars that her sister and friends can’t see her right now, certain that they’d tease her mercilessly.

Their short time ends sooner than Kara expected, sooner than she’d hoped. Green eyes meeting blue, the two of them somehow with shier smiles than when they’d begun.

“I should get going,” Lena says with a quick glance.

“Right, yeah.”

Lena’s smile is softer, the tiredness of the day seeping into her features, but not once taking away from her beauty. Her hair is pulled back, but there are baby hairs that have loosened slightly, especially on the sides, and Kara restrains herself from wanting to brush them down. She doesn’t, of course, but the desire is there all the same.

As Lena steps forward, Kara steps back until her hip juts up against the side of the counter.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier.”

“I—of course, that’s okay. Thank you for coming by and remembering me, though.”

Lena tilts her head slightly, her hands shoved in her pockets. “That’s not hard to do.”

“Ah, um. Thanks,” she says, her cheeks blooming pink once again. She ducks her head and scratches behind her ear and she decides this is the best time to start heading out. They slowly make their way out of the truck, the cool autumn air refreshing on Kara’s warm skin. She takes a deep breath and crosses her arms over her chest to stave off some of the cold.

“Thanks for having me, Kara.”

“And thanks for the postickers. You’re forgiven. Consider this a clean slate.”

“How magnanimous.” Lena smiles up at her just as Kara stands a little bit taller. “Just for curiosity’s sake, what would you have made for me if I had shown up earlier?”

Her mind flashes back to the contents of the small cooler still sitting at the end of her counter. “Guess you’ll just have to come back again tomorrow.”

“Is that right?” A sharp brow quirks up and Kara stands her ground, shrugging as nonchalantly as she can.

“You know where to find me.”

Lena then pulls out her phone from her coat pocket and types in her passcode before handing it to Kara. “Why don’t you type your number down so if I’m running late for whatever reason I can give you a heads up.”

Kara doesn’t bother hiding the surprise on her face, her jaw dropping slightly as her gaze alternates between staring at Lena and the phone between them.

“Unless that’s too forward—”

But before Lena can continue, Kara plucks the phone out of her hand and starts to type out her phone number on the text box.

“No! I mean, uh, not too forward,” she begins, her thumbs quickly traveling across the screen to type out her number before returning the phone. “Pretty smooth, actually.”

Lena laughs through her nose, and the sight of her small and soft smile draws Kara further in, and a growing part of her wants to always see that smile—like a shared secret between the two of them. As much as Kara wants to prolong their time together, the chime of Lena’s phone signals a message from her driver, breaking the bubble they find themselves in.

“Your pumpkin carriage awaits.”

“I’m afraid so.”

Fighting the sudden urge to want to give Lena a hug, Kara shoves her hands in her back pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks, immediately shy.

Lena brings her hand up with her phone just as she nods. “I promise this time.”

With a parting wave, Kara watches as Lena walks not too far from where she’s parked, a black sedan pulling up to the curb before a driver donning an all black uniform quickly opens the door for Lena. In a flash, Lena is gone again. She releases a deep sigh before shoving all of her foldable chairs and tables into the truck’s galley and heading home.

It’s only when she gets home that she finds a message from an unrecognizable number. She grins to herself when she sees exactly who it’s from.

Hi Kara, this is Lena. I hope you made it home safely.

She quickly types up her response, her thumb momentarily hovering over the send button before she presses it.

Hello, Lena Luthor! I did get home just fine, thank you for your concern *thumbs up emoji*

Surprised, Kara sees the three dots flashing at the bottom of her screen and she ends up sitting upright to lean against her headboard, gripping her phone tightly in anticipation.

Then the dots stop and Kara’s heart sinks with it as they disappear from the bottom of the screen. She’s about to close her phone when her phone suddenly rings, buzzing in her hand. Opening the call, she hesitates at first and then, “Hello?”

“Oh, are we back to full naming me?” she hears Lena’s voice, the sound soft and small and tired and beautiful. Kara can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of her, tired as she herself may be.

“I’m under quota. Surely a woman of your business acumen can understand that.”

Kara’s heart sings when she hears Lena’s laughter from the other end of the line.

“Sorry for calling so late,” Lena utters quietly. “It was presumptuous of me.”

“It wasn’t,” she whispers back. Slowly, as if she’ll disturb the space around them, she slouches down until she’s laying flat on her back. Silence spreads in the time and space between them, but there’s a sense of comfort in it that Kara is more than happy to bask in.

How strange and lucky to connect with someone so quickly.

“I should go. I would need my beauty rest because there’s a crepe food truck I’ll be going to after work tomorrow.”

“I see. I hope it’s good.”

“We’ll see. The owner makes crepes but waxes poetic about potstickers. Hard to determine her allegiance. Plus, I’ve yet to try a trademark crepe from them.”

“Then I hope they can deliver. After all, it’s the Lena Luthor dining with them.”

Kara hears a soft huff and realizes that she’d love nothing more than to hear all shades of Lena’s laughter and joy.

“Goodnight, Kara.”

She smiles up at the ceiling, her eyes closed as she imagines Lena’s face. “Goodnight, Lena Luthor.”

“You can’t keep getting away with full naming me.”

“You’ll find that I can and I will.”

With a final parting gift of Lena's amused laughter sent her way, they bid each other goodbye. Gently, she hears the soft click that ends the call before she sees her screen change, staring at it until the screen finally shuts off. She cradles her phone on her chest, a smile plastered on her face, as her consciousness is washed away with dreams of tomorrow.

#supercorp #supercorp fanfiction #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober #my fanfiction #listen don't let the first like 4 paragraphs trick you #im a kara danvers listens to ballads truther

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art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament · 7 months

Text

SET FOUR - ROUND THREE - MATCH TWO

"The Weather" (exhibited September 24, 2021 – August 7, 2022 - Laurie Anderson) / "Judith Slaying Holofernes" (c. 1620 - Artemisia Gentileschi)

THE WEATHER: This is the Laurie Anderson room at the Hirshhorn Museum in Washington, D.C. I think it used to be part of a larger exhibit but I only saw it recently and by then it was this one room. It’s hard to describe without being there — this huge black room covered in white paint. Drawings, words, on the walls and the floor. I kid you not, walking into that room felt like walking directly into my brain. The fragmentation, the poetry of it, it’s so crowded, bursting with cognition. Remembrances and stray ideas fly around this place and I stayed there for an hour plus, reading everything and looking at everything and sitting in the corner. It made me so insane I went home and wrote an entire prose poem about it. (green-cargaytions)

JUDITH SLAYING HOLOFERNES: i am in love with Caravaggio's works so this isnt 'hating' him or something. but i dont know how else to explain how absolutely brilliant artemisia's work is.

ok alright, so first off in (caravag)gio's works judith looks a little disgusted (?). like she looks as if she's distancing herself from the act. not only from her expressions, but also from the literal distance. it's as if she doesnt want the blood to 'contaminate' her.

as for arte(mis)ia's interpretation, she looks like she's immersed. the proximity, her expression (she seems determined and vindictive) and the grip she has on his hair is gfsdhjdgj

also i love how mis has portrayed the ladies to be physically strong. i adore the arms. they are bulky and i dont know it just seems physical strength.

also also the second woman is involved in the act if his beheading which just idk her interpretation creates such an intimate portrayal. it feels more immersive and powerful. i might be biased, but i feel like the lighting is spectacular too.

also, in gio's version, i feel myself dividing attention between judith and holofernes which creates a short distance in my mind, while in mis' version, all the subjects grab your attention at the same time.

artemisia has portrayed the struggle and resistance wayyyy better too (imo). pay attention to Holofernes' hands. he's trying to fend for himself. the grip judith has as she tries to counter his resistance. besides, notice the sleeve slipping off her outfit. like holy shit.

also did you notice one of her knee on the bed (just noticed as i am writing this and i am frothing at the mouth)

btw i am obsessed with the way mis has painted the bedding. idk the way light hits it, and honestly just the way she has painted it is pretty gorgeous. and also the fabrics, there is something in the way they have been painted.

the blood that spurts out of holofernes' neck is portrayed so 'realistically' in her interpretation too. the way it drips down the bedding.

ok so now if you pay close attention to the way the blood spurts, a string (?) of blood is parallel to judith's bracelet which appears to depict Artemis, which might be a small indication towards her putting herself in the place of judith. it is quite likely because-

(tw: rape)

-artemisia was raped at the age of 17. and she was tortured when she went to recount her experience which would prove her truthfulness (i want to go back in time and gauge their eyes out 🥰).

so not only was she raped, she was also publicly humiliated and this makes it even more likely for it to have been her spin on the mythology. (anonymous)

("The Weather" is an audiovisual exhibition by American artist Laurie Anderson. It was exhibited at the Hirshhorn Museum in Washington DC from September 24, 2021 – August 7, 2022, where it spanned the second floor.

"Judith Slaying Holofernes" is an oil on canvas painting by Italian artist Artemisia Gentileschi. It measures 6′ 6″ x 5′ 4″ (158.8 cm × 125.5 cm) and is located in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence.)

#art that fucks you up tournament #polls #atfyu polls #id in alt text #cw blood #cw gore #cw eye contact

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keystone8379 · 7 months

Note

keystone you should talk about something in regards to kirby fighters 2 community edition

Oh you're right I haven't done that yet! Regarding Kirby Fighters 2: Community Edition, there is a metric TON of stuff to talk about here. The dev team is some of the closest friends I've ever had. Smash Tactics is a thing because I was able to test the game over and over again with the members of the dev team. We've spent many hours sharing progressively crazier character ideas. We have created some warcrime moves. (or, well, more warcrime moves. KF2 already has plenty of those) I think, however, the best place to start for CE on the KF2 lore account is probably just a development history.

So it's late September, the year is 2020. Kirby Fighters 2 was leaked, got a trailer, and released all within the span of 24 hours. Soon after that, firubii (you might have seen her before) shows her findings from a Twitter datamine, that being evidence of a 3D Kirby game. "Wow! Awesome! I sure hope it's nothing like Battle Royale!" I say at the time. But I digress.

A few months pass and eventually fish gets in touch with Firubii for I believe checking hitboxes and frame data? We get a few things for some of the weirder moves from characters like Ninja, but the fact that a modder was among us got people excited. The prospect of a balance patch mod was an undeniably appealing one and could breathe new life (and a time) into the game. And one that Firubii was interested in.

March 16th, 2021 rolls around and Fish pings everyone saying that they had set up a poll for balance suggested for Firubii to implement. They also got an all star cast of top players and fighting game expects and colgate and me. because I "have lots of opinions." We're all put into a dev chat and poll responses start flowing in.

This poll was crazy. You had Ninja downplaying Mag like crazy. You had Celica Trying His Best. You had nonsense adjustment suggestions like "Not really that effective." But my favourite would have to be probably Qwertz saying to EVERY balance suggestion box "The game needs no balance changes, only quality of life changes."

So we all in the chat start throwing around ideas while not really getting anything done. This will be a running theme. About a month later I was like enough is enough and starting pinging people for proper balance discussions and locking in changes. There's a few notable things we did for v0.1, including making Sword a LOT faster, giving Hammer Palutena's Lightweight, (the s4 custom move) making Bandana Dee's spears stick into the ground for a few seconds, and making Cutter's boomerangs bounce off walls. That last one was our first real criminal change, as Cutter could effortlessly lock down the entire screen. I spent hours labbing counterplay only to find none and grew to despise the character and suggested massive overcorrections for v0.2. Oops.

Overall v0.1 was pretty good! It had some iffy stuff and launched with a Whip desync in game but other than that it was a success I think. It came out during July of 2021, a little under 4 months from the initial announcement. There's a few public tourneys with good turnouts but run via Parsec and Parsec makes me want to commit violent crimes. Progress on 0.2 also goes fairly well. There's some bad ideas in there like making MK not very fun but overall it's not so bad.

Until development just HALTS. To my understanding, I believe it was something personal Firubii was going through but I don't have all the info. Then again, I didn't ask. Like sure, I'd like to have the new CE versions as soon as possible, but ultimately the well being of the people actually making the mod is the top priority, it's why it's so irritating when people are jerks about CE's slow development. Obviously I want the new versions out. But we all have lives outside of this and sometimes other things need doing.

Eventually 0.2 gets out, at the start of Febuary 2022. It's solid but still has some things that irk me. After a few months, we ask for player feedback on overall balance and specific changes and get not many results. Granted, CE doesn't have much players so balance discussion is somewhat meaningless for a game this unexplored. I think 1.0 fixes all of the glaring flaws though.

At some point, once again, development freezes, and this one was rough. No communication from Firubii led to a lot of dooming, especially with how close we got to actually launching 1.0. We DO actually know why she vanished for so long this time, it's because her house caught fire. It didn't burn down don't worry! But this still caught us all SUPER off guard.

Anyway, CE resumed development and went for a little while, but hit a brick wall when trying to add training mode. I'm not an expert on the inner workings of KF2 but I know Firubii talked to Ryn (yes, the goku in strive Ryn) about it a little bit. I actually posted about this to my Threads account but who gives a shit about threads. That's more or less where we are now. It's been a while since the last tester build but what can you do.

There's also a few other things but there wasn't really a good place for them. Colgate thought it was a good idea to make a tierlist video for a game no one could play. It wasn't. I had to spend the days after that video doing damage control. There was a playlist where people could suggest songs to add to CE, but tbh it was more just an excuse to listen to music in VC while we could still do that. We were gonna move off Gamebanana because the site is run by N*zis but this was during the fire arc so didn't happen. AV also thought it'd be a good idea to shittalk CE and ask to join the dev team in the same day. There was also the time we had to rush out a trailer for Savi's Dream Display but I have a few criticisms about that which I'll share with him one day.

I think that's it? If you wanna download the mod I'll link it right here: https://gamebanana.com/mods/303920

#kirby fighters 2 #kf2 #fighting games #fighting game community #community edition #KF2CE #mod #kf2 lore

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lesbianbanana · 8 months

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so I did a thing and I regret life but I was trying to work out how long Bianca and Nico felt like they would've been in the Lotus Casino and I maybe did but I have NO IDEA if this is right so if ur a maths nerd you can prolly correct me

Og Trio were in the casino for 5 days which felt like a few hours

Few hours = 4 hours

1 day = 0.8 hours = 7.5 minutes

(4 ÷ 5)

Meaning 1 week = 52.5 minutes

(7.5 × 7 days)

1 year = 52 weeks

1 year in outside = 2730 minutes inside

(52.5 × 52)

2730 minutes = 45.5 hours

(2730 ÷ 60)

45.5 hours = ~1.8 days

The di Angelo's were in the casino from Dec 1941 - ~June 2007

= 64.5 years

1 year = 365 days

64 years would have 16 leapyears

64 years=23,376 days

((48 × 365=17,520)+(16 × 366=5,856))

+0.5 years = ~ 182 days = 23,558 days

23,558 days = ~3,365.5 weeks

(23,558 ÷ 7)

3,365.5 weeks = 176688.75 minutes inside

(3,365.5 × 52.5)

176688.75 minutes = 2944.812 hours

(176688.75 ÷ 60)

2944.812 hours = 122.7 days

(2944.812 ÷ 24)

122.7 days = ~ 4 months

BIANCA AND NICO THOUGHT ONLY 4 MONTHS PASSED IN THE SPAN OF 64.5 YEARS 😭😭😭

#mind is broken #someone ask ur mathy friends if im write cos i am in no way good at maths #lotus casino #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo and nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #pjo #percy jackson #maths #multiplication

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sakkiichi · 7 months

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guys i really did eat 4 chocolate donuts + drank 4 lattes in the span of 24 hours…

#aya.diary #yes ordering donuts bc tenn <3 #i think of him every time i eat one 🥺🩷#oh add a piece of soft cake to that #and some cookies…#in my defense #i had to be at work for 24 hours #those were survival meals

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8verity8 · 2 years

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****WARNING SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 10!!!****

So... everyone be hating on Kinn for "forgetting" Pete but I'm wondering if this is just another thing the show is going to switch up from the book and that comment Kinn made about, "feeling like he's forgetting something" was a nod to the books/a false lead switcheroo moment that they will clear up next epsiode. (Kind of like they did LAST week with that, "I don't trust anyone" comment)

Mainly, because from Kinn's point of view we get 1. Pete successfully completing his mission and sending Kinn proof of Vegas and Tawan working together. 2. Then almost immediately after his brother Kim calling him to tell him Chay has been kidnapped... 3. They have the Tawan showdown...where Big is killed protecting the love of his life that he realizes he ALSO needs to rescue and they both almost die in the process 4. the meeting with Khun that reveals that Ken was the traitor all along... all in what, the span of 24 hours?

I think at this point Kinn is understandably overwhelemd and doesn't have any reason to believe that Pete didn't successfully make it out/back from his mission. A lot has happened and is still happening...

I think they are going to realize Pete is missing in the next episode, the problem isn't going to be forgetting about Pete, its going to be more, "Is Pete still alive?" If he is, how do we even get him back?" Kinn isn't exactly in the position to be mounting a rescue mission for a bodyguard even if he had all the facts to do so in the first place.

Plus, people seem to be forgetting that Pete and Kinn talked about this BEFORE Pete went in. That's why Kinn straight up said, "You want me to send you in to die..."

Pete isn't waiting for rescue because we have established in this version of the Kinnporsche universe that Kinn CAN'T go in guns blazing to rescue Pete.

Pete knows exactly what he got himself into... and Kinn has no reason (yet) to believe that Pete was caught/didn't make it back from his mission safely.

Just saying...

#kinnporsche la forte #kinn x porsche #kinnporsche #kinn porsche #kinnporche the series #kinn anakinn #kinnporsche spoilers #kinnporsche episode 10 spoilers

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child-of-peace · 1 year

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I’m trying to figure out the timeline of Headless and this is what I have so far:

We know for a fact that Ichabod’s court session was on a Monday, so we’ll centre it on that: Episode 5 takes place on a Monday and will be our touchstone. So looking at the earlier episodes, Episode 4 must take place on Sunday. The episode exists in a single day and towards the end of it, Ichabod gets a reminder that he would be in court the next day.

Episode 3 is a little more uncertain. I think it must start before Saturday (it spans two days and given Douffé gets stabbed, there was definitely at least a day before Ichabod turned up at the drugstore on Sunday) so maybe it’s Friday-Saturday. Episode 2 has Ichabod and Brom teaching, so is definitively a school day, so I’d reckon it’s most likely Thursday, but it could also be Wednesday. As for Episode 1, Ichabod said in Episode 5 that he’d been in Sleepy Hollow for less than a week, so the earliest day he could have moved there was Tuesday. (Again, it could also be Wednesday.)

Now for the episodes after Episode 5, Episode 6 must take place on Tuesday. Kat asks Ichabod after his court session to dinner with her dad the next day.

Episode 7 starts on Tuesday late evening, but it spans three days. At no point does it definitively say that the next part happens the following day, though given their rush and the likelihood of Ichabod having studied Elizabeth Van Tassel’s diary Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, it would be safe to assume that the next part takes place on Wednesday. Except, Brom, in Episode 9, says that Ichabod started his community service on 7th October, which, in 2022, was a Friday.

There are three possible explanations for this. 1) Brom is just wrong - given that Brom says their google calendars are linked and Ichabod doesn’t have a google calendar, Brom may have been confused. 2) This show does not take place in 2022 - I thought it was, but now I’m not entirely sure. The last time 7th October was on a Wednesday was in 2020. 3) It is a Friday, and it took them a couple of days after Tuesday to figure out the matching symbols in Anneke’ and Davy “Gravy” Jones’ books.

So, for the sake of this, I’m going to go with Option 1: Part 2 of Episode 7 takes place on Wednesday. Part 3 of Episode 7, therefore, takes place on Thursday. Brom says he’ll go ask Lucretia to see the basement and we’re told that happens the next day.

That means Episode 8 also takes place on Thursday. Lucretia says to Brom that she has a wedding that very day and that’s when the heist happens.

If Episode 8 is Thursday, Episode 9 must be Friday. Each head only lasts 24 hours and Paulie is still active. It must start in the late morning/early afternoon, since the gang starts off in jail and then, an hour later, Paulie shows up and his head promptly dissolves naturally.

This means that the gang were in jail for at least 10 hours - the heist canonically took 15 minutes on Thursday afternoon/early evening. And finally, Episode 10. The start of this episode would take place on Friday evening (or Sunday evening if we went with Option 3). Kat tells them after the jailbreak to head to her house later that evening for “the world’s weirdest scavenger hunt”.

We know when midnight hits as that is definitively stated, so we know it filters over into Saturday (or Monday), and the gang walk around with Henrietta in the early hours of Saturday morning.

Also, I don’t know how American school terms work, but I’m assuming that Episode 5-10 take place during half term (I think the American equivalent is semester break?), since Ichabod and Brom don’t seem to spend any time in school. Half term for us is typically the last week of October, but I’m not sure how semester break works (I did try to look it up, but couldn’t find anything) so could it be early October?

Me, writing this post:

Anyway, what do other people think? Have I missed anything obvious?

To simplify it:

Tuesday - 1️⃣

Thursday - 2️⃣

Friday - 3️⃣

Saturday - 3️⃣

Sunday - 4️⃣

Monday - 5️⃣

Tuesday - 6️⃣7️⃣

Wednesday - 7️⃣

Thursday - 7️⃣8️⃣

Friday - 9️⃣🔟

Saturday - 🔟

#Please appreciate that I wrote this from memory #I am obsessed with this show and have watched it so many times #This is kinda relevant for my fic of the show from Matilda’s POV #Can you tell I'm autistic?#I wrote this instead of paying attention to a lecture so it may have mistakes or not make a lot of sense #Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story #Headless Shipwrecked #Shipwrecked Comedy #Own Post

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teecupangel · 1 year

Note

I'd like to talk about AC2, more precisely how Giovanni traveled so much before the 29th. Google maps says the Travel times are as follows by bike (which I estimate is like a horse) Florence -> Milan 18.5hrs, Milan ->Venice 16hrs 10 min, Venice -> Florence 15hrs, Florence ->Rome 17hrs, and then back to Florence for another 17hrs. In total 83 hours and 40 minutes. That's not counting how long he was in each location. When did this guy eat or sleep in between all this? Fanfic research at the max.

Okay, so I was faced with a similar problem with the traveling Altaïr did in AC1 because he used a horse, sure, but AC1 happened from June to September and the whole hunt for the nine was around July to September so, yeah, nine targets (ten actually) in the span of 3 months is kinda questionable.

WARNING: This post mentions pushing a horse passed its limit and a disregard for the horse’s health. I will include a trigger for animal cruelty as well in the tags to cover all my basis. Again, this is all theoretical and I try not to be descriptive but, yeah, please prioritize your mental health and do not read this if you believe it will be detrimental to you or would make your day worse.

Moving on!

According to this website:

Walk: 6~ish km/hr.

Trot (from a different website): 12 km/hr (although there is a record of 30 km/hr, this is an outlier and will not be added to our guesstimate)

Canter: 16~27 km/hr which is around the ballpark of an average cyclist’s speed (23~29 km/hr)

Gallop: 40~48 km/hr. (which is just below a lot of speed limits)

However, we must also take into consideration the horse’s stamina.

According to this website, a horse can cover the following distance:

Walk: 51 km without break.

Trot: 32~64 km without break.

Canter: 11 km without break.

Gallop: 3~4 km without break.

So if we take these into consideration, you’d get the following before being forced to make the horse take a break.

Walk: 51 km in 8.5 hours before needing a break.

Trot: We will use the average of 32~64 which is 48 km in 4 hours before needing a break.

Canter: For canter, we will use the average of 16 to 27 km/hr in our calculations which is 21.5 km/hr so 11 km in 0.5 hr (30 minutes) before needing a break.

Gallop: We will use 4 for the approximate 3~4 km and the average of 40~48 km/hr which will give us 44km/hr to give Gallop a chance. So 4 km in 0.09 hr (approximately 5ish minutes) before needing a break.

According to this website, the best way to keep the horse moving without tiring it too quickly is to switch between 2 gaits so let’s try and find the ‘best’ combination.

Okay, now, I can’t find a website that can tell me how many hours or minutes a horse needs before changing back to a more exhausting gait so let’s say Giovanni makes his horse switch gaits at a similar time period as the max of the highest speed we’ll have in the combination. Feel free to correct me on this one (actually, feel free to correct me on any of these, I only sat on a horse once and I was a kid so I don’t even remember it all that well).

We will always start with the lower speed to give the horse a chance to ease into the higher speed and calculate the distance they cover in 1 hr.

Walk + Trot: (6 × 4) + (12 × 4) = 24 + 48 = 72 km per 8 hr = 9 km/hr

Walk + Canter: 3 + 11 = 14 km/hr

Walk (0.1 km per min) + Gallop: 0.5 + 4 = 4.5 km per 5 min = 0.9 per min = 0.9 × 60 = 54 km/hr

Trot + Canter: 6 + 11 = 17 km/hr

Trot (0.2 km per min) + Gallop: 1 + 4 = 5 km per 5 min = 1 km/min = 60 km/hr

Canter (0.36 km per min) + Gallop: 1.8 + 4 = 5.8 km per 5 min = 1.6 km/min = 69.6 (nice) km/hr

(I am soooo regretting doing all these calculations. Pretty sure I fucked some of the calculations up so just think of these as guesstimates)

In conclusion:

Canter + Gallop will give an average of 69 km/hr.

A possible more reasonable choice: Trot + Gallop will give an average of 60 km/hr.

We will go pick Trot + Gallop to give the horse a break (sorta). Walk + Gallop is not accepted because, while 54 km/hr is not a bad number, it will be hard on the horse to change to super fast and then walk every 5 minutes.

Now then, before we continue, we would need to specify the distance Giovanni took. Now, it should be noted that the landscape we have today is not the same landscape they would have had during the 15th century. Not to mention, using Google Map’s bike/car directions makes you use roads that may or may not have existed during that time.

So let’s say that Giovanni is hurrying and doesn’t give a shit about the actual roads (or, he’s like me who sees a road and go “nah, we’re crossing this fucking wheat field, sorry NPCs, should have planted rice!”), this would cut down some km on his travel.

To do this in Google Map, you have to right-click on your starting point and click ‘Measure Distance’ instead of clicking ‘Directions’.

Now, using this feature, we have a rough estimate of the distance he traveled if he traveled straight. (Again, this is highly questionable but we’re giving Giovanni the advantage on this one just to give the lore a chance to make sense because Ubisoft certainly ain’t gonna do it)

Florence to Milan: approximately 237 km.

Milan to Venice: approximately 244 km.

Venice to Florence: approximately 128 km.

Using Trot + Gallop’s 60 km/hr would give us:

Florence to Milan: 3.95 hrs travel time.

Milan to Venice: 4 hrs travel time.

Venice to Florence: 2 hrs travel time.

In total: approximately 9.95 hrs travel time for Florence → Milan → Venice.

With these travel times, it can be argued that the horse did not need to take a break the entire time it was traveling (but this would be heavily advisable). If you wish to make the horse take a break (you should), add 1 hr for each.

Now, if we were being nice to the horse and don’t think Giovanni is a ‘some sacrifices must be made in the interest of time’ kind of asshole, we’ll use Trot + Canter’s 17 km/hr which will give us:

Florence to Milan: 13.9 hrs travel time.

Milan to Venice: 14.3 hrs travel time.

Venice to Florence: 7.5 hrs travel time.

In total: approximately 35.7 hrs travel time for Florence → Milan → Venice.

The horses need a break for all of these so I would suggest adding 1 or 2 hrs for each.

Ending Remarks:

Ubisoft made Giovanni Auditore a bad owner of horses to make him a cool Assassin. Also, horses go fast and should be treated with care and respect.

Things to consider:

It’s possible that it would have been faster to take a boat from Venice to Forli then travel to Florence like the reverse route Ezio used in AC2.

Giovanni can cut down his time even further by just letting the horse gallop the entire way and changing horses whenever he can. Of course, this doesn’t take into consideration the health and safety of the horses and the possibility that Giovanni will get a ‘bad’ horse when he changes horses.

#my head hurts from all the calculations #thanks calc app for making my life easier #math is fun #please treat animals with care and respect #cw animal cruelty #tw animal cruelty #horse #giovanni auditore #assassin's creed #does this count as headcanon?#teecup calculates shit #teecup analyze more than necessary

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 years

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India Lima Yankee - Chapter 26

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2841

Warnings: Mention of death, angst

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Wherever You Will Go As Long As You Love Me

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26

Rooster

He'd only been in the bathroom for a few minutes, carefully removing his service uniform and switching into sweats, a tee, and his ever-present Hawaiian shirt. He never would've guessed that in the short span of time he'd separated himself from Juliette, she would discover the piece of her he'd never let go of.

Rooster exited the bathroom, his Navy blues draped neatly over his arm, when he saw Juliette on the floor, leaning against his bed and staring at an all too familiar locket. He felt the color drain out of his face. He'd planned on telling her, on giving it to her when the moment was right, but that notion flew out the window faster than Mach 10 at the sight before him.

Abort! Abort! Abort! Rooster's head yelled at him to turn around and return to his bathroom like he hadn't seen anything, had forgotten something, but he'd already been standing there too long for him not to have recognized what she held.

Hesitantly, Rooster approached Juliette, setting his uniform on the bed and sinking to the ground beside her. He tried to think of what to say, where to begin on why he still had this sentimental necklace of hers, but any and all words caught in his throat. It was one thing for her to know he still loved her after all this time, but for Juliette to find the necklace in his possession, the one that had been there since day one of their relationship, was another. It signified both the beginning and the end of their love, a love that had never died, only been buried.

Rooster watched her slowly slip her nail between the edges of the locket and flick it open. The two pictures inside, a little worn from age but clearly visible, still remained. Her thumb trailed over the photo of her dad and Maverick, then over the one of her and Bradley, before she clicked it shut and turned it over. Juliette stared at the engraving on the back for what felt like an hour before finally looking up at him, perplexity clear on her face. "You still have this?"

He dropped his gaze from hers, keeping his eyes trained on the locket. "Yeah. I planned on giving it to you yesterday, but everything happened, and I figured I'd wait for a different time."

"Why do you still have it, though? It's been almost ten years."

"I didn't know I had it for about three of those."

Juliette tilted her head. "I sent it a week after you left. How could you not have known?"

"Just because you sent it doesn't mean I opened it," Rooster said, continuing to keep his eyes anywhere but on her. "When I got the box of my belongings, I was still pretty upset over what happened between us, and I couldn't bring myself to open it before my deployment, so I didn't. When I came back, I don't know... I still didn't want to open it. I didn't want to open the box that contained a part of my life I'd thrown away over the one and only nasty argument we ever had."

"And the next two years it stayed closed?"

"Same reason. It only got opened when an ex-girlfriend found it stashed away in my closet while we were doing some spring cleaning. Needless to say, she wasn't too happy I'd held onto it for so long, nor did she like seeing the necklace and got mad at me for never getting her something so sentimental. We didn't last long after that." Rooster reached over and stroked Lightning on the head, who had come to lay beside him. The dog provided a welcome distraction from the mortification the aviator felt trying to explain what he was. "I wanted to send it back to you, but I figured you wouldn't want anything to do with me or it since you'd sent it back along with every other gift I'd given you and the pictures of us. I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it either. To be honest, I couldn't bring myself to get rid of any of it. It's all in storage. You know I have trouble letting go of things, the good and the bad. And you... you were the best."

God, Bradley just needed her to stop staring at him, to have the weight of her gaze lifted off him because the guilt burdening him at the moment was bad enough. Naturally, Juliette didn't. She'd never been one to back down when she had questions, and right now, she probably had a million of them.

"You told me you weren't coming back," she pointed out, causing the heart-wrenching memory to resurface in Bradley's mind. He vividly remembered sending that text to her with shaking hands. He hadn't meant it, but his rage had gotten the better of him, along with his fear. "But yet, you've made it clear that you wanted to, that you thought about it. You've held onto this-" Juliette held up the locket- "onto us, all this time. You're not telling me something, Bradley. I know you're not. What held you back? It wasn't your hurt ego and pride."

"I got scared," he confessed, finally forcing himself to lock eyes with her. "About a week before our fight, an acquaintance of mine died in a training accident. His plane had a mechanical malfunction, and he went down. I didn't see it, but I saw his wife after she'd been told the news and the look on her face... I can't describe the despair. I never told you about that death because I knew you were upset about me leaving, as much as you supported me being in the Navy. I didn't want to add to your worry, so I kept quiet about it. Fast-forward to after our fight, when I calmed down, all I could see was the look on your face when I left, and it killed me because it was so dangerously close to what that wife wore, and that was just because of me walking out. If I died while being with you... the idea of putting you through that made me panic. I'd rather you hate me than ever put you through that kind of misery. I realize now that wasn't my call to make. You wouldn't have stayed with me if you didn't want to deal with that possibility, but seeing that woman after her husband died and seeing what my dad's death did to Mom, I just... I panicked, Jules."

"Did you really think I could ever hate you?" Juliette inquired softly.

"After what happened? Yeah. And then you showed at my Top Gun graduation, and I could barely tear my eyes from you, but you... you wouldn't even look at me."

Juliette shook her head. "It's not because I hated you. It's because I felt guilty. I still blamed myself for what happened between us, and I knew you could've had that Top Gun trophy a lot sooner had Maverick and I not held you back."

"You didn't hold me back, Jules, and I am so sorry for ever making you think that you did," Rooster said, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. "I'm sorry for leaving you and for staying away, and I'm sorry for making you feel the way I did all this time. God knows I loved you back then and that I still love you."

"Rooster-"

"The locket is yours to keep if you want it. It will always be yours and no one else's. If you don't want it, you can get rid of it. Or I can if you don't want the trouble."

"Bradley-"

"If you don't want me to stay the night after all this, I get it," he continued, standing up to place some distance between himself and Juliette before she most likely broke what was left of his heart. Why would she want the necklace? Why would she still love him in the way he wanted her to? Sure, they'd fallen into their old habits of confiding in each other, of supporting one another when things got tough, of showing those little acts of genuine affection, and yes, they'd kissed more than once and shared flirty remarks, but who was to say Juliette wanted a relationship after the way he ended things with her last time? Just because she still loved him didn't mean she wanted to be with him again. "I can reach out to Maverick, have him give you a ride home."

Juliette stood up. "Bradley, would you please-"

A knock on his door interrupted both of them. He swiftly moved to open it, anything to have a change in conversation, willing to talk to anyone, even Hangman. Still, thankfully, it wasn't his rival at the door but Phoenix and Bob.

"Hey," Phoenix said, leaning against the doorframe. "The others and I are watching a movie in the break room. Thought you'd like to join."

Bradley's brain short-circuited for an answer. Part of him wanted to say he couldn't because he was driving Juliette home, but would she even still want him to after their conversation? Would she want to be around him at all?

"Hey, Juliette," Phoenix said, her gaze shifting to behind Rooster. "I know you're probably exhausted from today, but you're welcome to join too."

"I'm surprised you two aren't exhausted as well," Jules replied, coming to stand beside Bradley. He glanced down at her, attempting to act as naturally as he could to avoid Phoenix and Bob figuring out the two of them had been having an awkward conversation. "I meant to ask you earlier, and I'm so sorry for just now asking this, but are you two doing okay? No injuries from yesterday?"

"Yeah, we're fine. And don't apologize for not asking," Phoenix assured, smiling appreciatively. "You've had a hell of a past twenty-four hours."

"Are y'all coming?" Hangman shouted from down the hallway.

Phoenix rolled her eyes. "Hold your horses, Bagman! We'll be there in a sec!" She turned to Jules and Rooster. "You two joining?"

"I'll, uh, I'll leave that up to Juliette," Bradley said, rubbing the back of his neck while glancing down at his ex. He wanted to give her an escape if she wanted one.

Jules smiled up at him, resting her hand on his bicep. "Yeah, we'll join. Just give us a few minutes, would you?"

"Cool. We'll see you there." Phoenix and Bob departed, and Rooster shut the door, trying to ignore the electric surges traveling up and down his arm from Juliette's touch. God, he wished they could've left with his friends so he wouldn't have to hear the inevitable denial of his wishes, even if he did deserve them.

"If you want to change out of your clothes," Rooster began, slipping out of her grasp and hoping the sudden change of topic would make her ignore what they'd previously been discussing, "I can go find some spares for you, or you can wear some of my clothes. They might be a little big on you, but-"

"Bradley, stop. I know what you're doing," Juliette interrupted, closing the distance he'd placed between them. "Don't deflect."

"I'm not- I don't-" Rooster ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. "Today was about your dad, and you should be grieving him, not dealing with my bullshit."

"Yeah, well, it's not just your bullshit. It's mine, too, because we both had a part in our falling out. I'd rather figure us out than have to think about earlier because I have all the time in the world to grieve my dad because we both know the grief never leaves, no matter how much time passes. You get used to it, but that's it. With you, I don't know how much time I have left because you're probably going on a death mission, and I don't want to be questioning what was between us if I lose you. So talk to me, Bradley. Tell me what you want."

"I want to be with you again, Juliette," Rooster said quietly, swallowing the hope she might want the same thing he did. He couldn't allow himself to have his dreams broken like that, not again. Besides, the frustration in her voice more than gave him his answer, but he still needed to hear her say it to be sure. "But I understand if you don't want the same thing."

Her sapphire eyes pierced his as if searching for some unspoken words he was holding back from her like the last few times they'd verged into this territory, but Bradley had bared the rest of his soul to her tonight, and if she chose not to try again, he would respect her wishes. He would rather have Jules in his life as a friend than not at all.

Rooster watched as she reached down and grabbed hold of his hand. Lifting it, Juliette placed the locket in his open palm, and Rooster's shoulders sagged. He'd been right, and God, crashing into the ground in a ball of fire would've been less agonizing than this.

Juliette turned around, but rather than walking away, she lifted her wavy blonde hair up, revealing her neck to him. It took a moment for Rooster's brain to register what she was silently asking him to do, but the second it did, he swiftly draped the locket around her neck before the opportunity disappeared.

"Everything that's happened is water under the bridge, okay?" Juliette said, facing him, the locket resting snugly on her chest where it always belonged. "Neither of us will hold what we did against each other. It'll be a clean slate for both of us and-"

Rooster couldn't contain himself anymore. He cupped her face and crashed his lips onto hers. All the other kisses they'd shared, he'd held back in fear of revealing too much about his feelings, even the one from yesterday, but Bradley couldn't help it now. He poured all the love and longing and lost time into this kiss. Juliette returned it with a voraciousness of her own, snaking her arms around his neck and pressing her body into his, closing any remaining distance between them that she could. He wrapped one arm around her waist and used his free hand to weave his fingers in her hair and keep her head firmly where it was. Rooster wanted nothing more than to lose himself in Juliette like he used to because she had this ability, whether she knew it or not, to make all his worries disappear just by pressing her lips to his. Bradley wanted to lay her on the bed and reacquaint himself with her body and the softness of its curves, to leave his mark on her on places only she could see.

He just might've had Hangman not banged loudly on the door and shouted, "You two coming or not?"

"I'm gonna kill him," Rooster murmured against Juliette's lips.

"Hang on!" Juliette yelled, bracing her forehead against Bradley's. Then, lowering her voice, she added, "We did say we'd go."

"I hate that we agreed to it, but if we don't, we'll never hear the end of it."

"Can I take you up on wearing some of your clothes? I'd really like to get out of this dress."

"You know I always loved seeing you in my clothes." Rooster kissed her once more, then tore himself away from her and opened his dresser. He pulled out some attire he thought would be the best fit. Juliette took them from him and slipped into the bathroom to change. Within thirty seconds, she returned. Rooster smiled at the sight of her in the oversized tee, and the too-large sweatpants rolled up so she wouldn't trip on them, the drawstrings pulled as tight as they could go to keep them up.

They headed towards his door, but before his hand touched the handle, she stopped him and said, "Hey, I know you probably won't like this, but let's keep us a secret until the mission's over. If you go on it, I don't want the others thinking I convinced Maverick to send you out of favoritism. I mean, Phoenix, Bob, and Hangman can know because I'm pretty sure they all suspect it anyway, but not the others. People tend to act weird when coworkers date."

"We can just tell them we're old acquaintances for now," Rooster teased, slipping his arm around her waist.

Juliette laughed. "You're never going to let me live that one down, are you?"

"No. Also, before we go-" Rooster bent down and kissed just below her left ear, a place he knew was one of her weak points. It elicited a small noise of pleasure from her. Grinning, he whispered, "India-" he kissed the spot below her right ear- "Lima-" he kissed her lips- "Yankee."

***

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