#but i didn’t pre grieve shit

[segretecose]

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[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Ok hear me out. Reader and Daryl go on a run for supplies with a few other people. Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Daryl gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Daryl later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!

I Might Change Your Life, I Might Save My World

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (pre/early)

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD Violence and Gore; Mentions of canonical character death; Some verbal aggression

A/N: I had them on the run alone. I hope that’s okay!

*gif is not mine

The run had so far been uneventful. You’d even dare say boring. That was a word that wasn’t used carelessly. Life in the apocalypse was rarely boring and usually consisted of running for your life while scrounging up anything possible to ensure you could just survive. At least you were out with Daryl. He was your best friend and could usually keep you at least mildly entertained whether or not it was intentional. 

You were a survivor of the Governor’s insanity at Woodbury. It had seemed safe enough, but he had fooled everyone. Or maybe he had at one point been a kind, reasonable man that was just pushed too far by the cruelty of the end of the world. Regardless, it was there that you had met Merle, the right hand man. You had always teased him about that. Right hand? Get it? To most people, it would have seemed cruel, but not to Merle Dixon. He would ruffle your hair with a gentle shove and tell you to get lost. 

You never did.

When Merle left, you had followed and he had allowed it. He even held your arm and dragged you out behind him. That’s when you actually met Daryl. You had seen him in the fight pit, eyes wide as the Governor revealed he was Merle’s younger brother. He had never mentioned having a brother. Maybe he had thought him dead. Most would say Daryl was everything Merle was not, but they just didn’t know the elder Dixon like you did. Merle was crass, sometimes downright unkind, but below that rough exterior, he had a big heart. He was learning, little by little. You would have liked to take some credit for that.

Daryl had left his group that day, following Merle, just as you did. You remained quiet, watching the younger Dixon watching you. He looked almost wary, but there was a naked curiosity there too. When the two butted heads, you trailed behind while Daryl led the way back to the prison. Where he belonged, he had said. 

You had fit in easily. Merle, not so much. It made your heart ache for him when you could see the poorly hidden love he had for his little brother. He was absolute shit at showing it, sometimes selfish, but it was there. When he proved it by trying to be better, trying to show Daryl that he could do the right thing, it had cost him his life. You blamed Daryl for the longest time. You knew it wasn’t his fault, deep down, but you needed someone to catch the fury of your grief. The archer had taken it willingly.

When the prison fell, you had tried and failed to save Beth. Grieving yet again, right on the heels of losing Merle and then Hershel and then your home, you found a way out with Daryl, leaving the two of you stuck together on the road, alone and with a dense cloud of animosity billowing between you. It wasn’t until one night in a rundown home that Daryl had said reminded him of where he grew up, moonshine was flowing and then so were the emotions. You had both yelled, thrown things, killed the walkers that the fight attracted while continuing the verbal onslaught. In the end, drained and resigned, the two of you had talked. 

And the rest was history.

Alexandria had been a saving grace. It had taken a while to adjust. For Daryl, he had never lived in a community like that. He slept on the porch most nights, fleeing the confined spaces that left his chest heaving and his skin damp with sweat. You felt as if it were Woodbury all over again, destined to crash and burn and leave the group nothing but ashes. So, you slept on the porch with him, if for no other reason than to keep a fellow outsider close. You both knew it was more than that. 

Months had gone by. You had both finally moved inside a house and were even closer now than you had once been to Merle, which was surprising. Rick was confident in sending the two of you out together. You got shit done. That day in particular, things just weren’t moving in your favor.

For one, it was cold. The seasons were changing and you hadn’t adequately prepared for the chill in the air, especially when on the bike. The two of you were scouting for places that could possibly still have necessary supplies. Daryl had—as always—been quick to notice your discomfort. Though he had usually sewn the sleeves of jackets right onto his sleeveless shirts, that day, he had actually worn a leather jacket. 

“Here.” He shoved the article toward you, prompting a raised brow in response.

“What for?” You queried. It was a stupid question, but useless banter always kept things light between the two of you, comfortable even if Daryl would always claim the opposite. The space that lingered was never oppressive, not anymore.

“You’re cold, idiot.”

“Daryl Dixon is being sweet to me. This is one for the record books!” You chuckled while slipping on the jacket. The hunter scowled and bumped you with his elbow.

“Stop.”

“Didn’t hear you disagree.” You would have continued to tease if he hadn’t held up a fist just in front of you, the signal to be still and silent. The telltale groans, snarls, and shuffling feet were growing closer, blocking the two of you from the bike. “Aw, crap.”

“Yup.” He agreed, leaning around the corner of the building just enough to see the sizable herd. “Need a plan.” He mumbled, unclipping the sheath of his knife for a quick draw when needed.

“Got one.” 

“What?” When Daryl turned, you were already rounding the opposite corner of the building with a quiet shout of get the bike. “That fuckin’ woman’s gonna be the death’a me.”

There were a great deal more undead than you had anticipated. “Well, hell.” You grumbled. It was too late to turn around, several of the milky yellow eyes already landing on you. As you walked backward, keeping a safe distance but close enough to hold their attention, you could see Daryl peeking out from the corner. You exchanged nods before you began to wave your arms. “Hey! Over here! Keep your eyes on me!!” The noise ensured that Daryl’s already near silent footfalls would go unnoticed. He would get the bike, circle the herd, and you’d jump on. Piece of cake. 

Until you bumped right into a walker that led the other half of aforementioned herd. 

“Oh, fuck!” Quickly grabbing its throat to hold it back, you pivoted, walking backward toward the open area at the edges of the corpses. Daryl was shouting your name, the bike roaring to life. You just happened to choose the wrong time to glance in his direction in an attempt to gauge the distance between you. The next walker had fallen somehow, levering clumsily to its feet just beside the one you were grappling with, your knife having just sank into that one’s skull. There was no time to react. You could only watch the blade slip free as the teeth came together on your arm. It was painful but nothing like you had expected, more pressure than anything. Still, it was too late. You were bit.

“Y/N!!” Daryl shouted, grabbing you away from the dead man, your arm slipping free from its jaws to throw it off balance. That gave you a chance to climb on behind Daryl, the injured arm cradled to your chest while the other wrapped tightly around his abdomen. “Just a minute, just hang on. We’ll take care’a this.” He was rambling anxiously, the cool wind whipping and stinging as the herd grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

“I’m bit. I’m bit. I’m bit.” You chanted against Daryl’s back, only barely holding back your sobs. The bike slowed to a stop, the kickstand lowered roughly before Daryl was scrambling off when you should have been the first to move. 

“Lemme see.” When your teary eyes met his, he growled through the sting at his waterline. “Lemme fuckin’ see!” He wasn’t as gentle as he could have been but he didn’t hurt you. Pulling your arm away from your chest roughly, he grabbed the shoulder of the jacket and yanked it down, ripping one of the seams in the process. You were both greeted with bruising flesh, the slightest indents of where teeth had vehemently pressed, but no broken skin. No blood. No scratches. While you stared in a shocked relief, Daryl wasn’t so graceful. His legs buckled and he went down hard to his knees. “Goddamn it, Y/N!”

“I’m okay.” You blinked, eyes transfixed on your arm. It hurt but it wasn’t a death sentence. You weren’t going to turn. “I’m okay, Daryl.” You smiled through the tears, now falling for an entirely different reason. “Daryl?” He was trembling fiercely, his shoulders moving in a way that suggested he might have been crying. You started to throw your leg over the seat to comfort him when he drew back his arm and planted his fist into the asphalt with a crunch that made your stomach turn.

“You’re so fuckin’ stupid!” He roared, barreling upright to stand with his nose nearly touching yours. You were too shocked to react properly. “Ya couldn’a waited for a actual plan, just had to go balls to the wall an’ run out there like a fuckin’ lunatic!” Your eyes followed anxiously as he started to pace.

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to get us out there in one piece. I didn’t even see the—”

His uninjured hand grabbed your wrist, tight and firm but not without care. He’d never hurt you. Not intentionally. Not physically, at least. “Ya call this one piece? I woulda had to take your arm, ya fuckin’ useless idiot!” That sent you reeling. Daryl had been angry with you before, but for things like keeping the squirrel over the fire for too long or kneeing him in the groin while trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. But that? That was different.

If Merle Dixon had taught you anything, it was to never show how you really felt. When you began to laugh, Daryl dropped your arm and stepped back, eyes wide and full of disbelief. “My god, you’re dramatic. I’m fine, Dixon. Let’s just chalk this up to a shit day and get the fuck out of here.”

“A shit d—are ya fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

“Stop it. Get on the bike and let’s go.” You pulled the jacket back onto your arm, your red flannel peering through the tear in the shoulder. Now adjusted once again and ready to go, you looked back to find him still staring at you with the same incredulous expression. You chuckled and shook your head. “Stop being ridiculous. Let’s go.”

“Nah.” He was stepping backwards with his own head twisting back and forth. “Take the bike and go home. M’gonna walk.”

“It’s at least fifteen miles and it’s cold. Now who’s being stupid?” When he turned his back, leaving his crossbow strapped to the motorcycle, you actually began to panic. You could drive the bike, sure. He had taught you a few months back, just in case. Still, leaving him behind with nothing but his knife was not something you would do without a fight. “Daryl! Seriously, please, let’s go.” He ignored you, stalking off into the trees until the wings of his vest disappeared. 

Chasing him wasn’t a good idea. You knew him well enough to know that much. Or did you? It had been a long time since an argument like that, one where both of you had shut down in one way or another. You started the bike, toeing up the kickstand before propelling it forward, your chest constricting tighter and tighter with every mile. 

It had taken him far longer than necessary to make the walk back to Alexandria’s gates. Granted, he’d stopped for several smokes to calm himself down. He’d slide down the nearest tree and sit there—flexing his throbbing fingers—until he had drawn the cigarette down to the filter or he heard the incoming growls of the walkers that had been tailing him. He had to take an extra half hour to put down the ones he could and lose the ones he couldn’t. By the time Sasha pulled open the gates, Daryl was bone weary and more than a little ashamed of how he’d reacted. 

“Seen Y/N?” He asked in lieu of answering when she questioned where he’d been.

“She came back a while ago. Haven’t seen her since. Sorry.” She patted his shoulder and returned to her post. You were back, so that anxiety was at least remedied. 

Still, he needed to talk to you. The way you had laughed in the face of his anger had unnerved him. It reminded him so much of his brother that it hurt. That type of behavior didn’t suit you. Then again, who was he to tell you how to behave? He had spoken to you so harshly instead of just telling you that you scared the shit out of him. He should have hugged you and been thankful that you didn’t lose your arm, didn’t lose your life. But emotions and Daryl weren’t exactly on speaking terms. When he didn’t understand why or how something made him feel a certain way, he lashed out at it. He was conditioned that way, it was in his blood. He had been trying so hard to be better. He actually thought he was getting better. Boy, he couldn’t have been more wrong. He was still a work in progress. He needed you to know that. He needed to apologize, even if it burned coming out of his mouth to admit he was wrong, to admit to feeling anything at all. 

Damn you for wiggling your way into his useless heart. He thought he had crushed and buried the thing years ago. Then you came tagging along on his brother’s heels and challenged everything he thought he knew about himself. He chose not to acknowledge it, even when people like Carol and Rick did. Often. 

Sighing, he stopped on the porch of the home he shared with you and Carol, lighting up a cigarette and leaning over the railing on his forearms. He would have assumed that you’d already spilled everything to Carol but when she didn’t barrel out of the house with a rolling pin aimed at his head, it was easy to figure out that you hadn’t. Maybe you hadn’t even been home yet. He trampled that worry down quickly, not willing to let it compound into another wave of anger he’d have to answer for eventually.

The streets were quiet with the sun now completely gone, replaced by the waning crescent moon. There was enough light for him to see, of course. His eyes were trained from years of hunting and surviving out in nature. He could hear frogs close to the pond, even hear the paper of his cigarette sizzling with each drag. But then he heard something else. Something that shattered him to his very core because he knew immediately what and who and why it was.

He didn’t bother to keep his steps light. It wouldn’t do to surprise you. You’d just be even more upset without time to even try and compose yourself. Even so, it was possible you still didn’t hear him approaching. Your sobs and sniffles continued, probably barely audible to anyone who didn’t know how to listen and not just hear.

You were perched on the bench beneath the gazebo, knees drawn up to your chest with your face hidden behind them. Even in the dark, he could see your shoulders shaking. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there watching you but once it was clear that you hadn’t noticed him, he cleared his throat. Had it been any other day, any other situation, the way you unfolded and nearly climbed over the back of the bench would have been comical. Maybe it still would be when the two of you looked back on this, but that was only if he could make things right.

“Hey.” He rasped, still rooted to the same spot.

You sniffed, wiping at your face with the sleeve of your flannel. The leather jacket was nowhere to be seen. “Hi.” All the confidence from earlier was gone, leaving your voice but a tiny echo of the woman that had called him dramatic. “I’m glad you made it back safely.”

“Ya alright?” He chanced a step toward you, pausing after one when your eyes darted down to his boots and back up. God, he felt like an asshole. Were you afraid of him now?

“Mhm. I’m okay.” You sniffed again and settled back onto the seat, pulling your knees against you once again. “I hung your jacket on the doorknob of your room. I fixed the sleeve.”

Great. You fixed the thing he tore. Now he felt like a major asshole. “Listen, Y/N, I—”

“It’s okay, Daryl.” You interjected, offering him a small, feigned smile while your eyes betrayed you. “Carol has dinner ready. I put your plate in the oven.” It was just getting better and better. You had still thought of him enough to make sure he had something to eat when he got back. And the award for Asshole of the Year goes to: Daryl Dixon.

You stood so quickly that he nearly flinched. “I should—I have a new job assignment tomorrow. Need to get some sleep.”

That threw him. “New—ya ain’t goin’ out anymore?” You shook your head.

“I’m gonna work in the pantry, dabble in the armory too. Give Olivia a break sometimes.” Your tone wasn’t cold but bordered on emotionless. You’d asked Rick to take you off the run list, and you’d done it because of him.

“Y/N, don’t do that.” He watched as you approached, your head down. If you hadn’t seen his boots when he stepped into your path, you surely would have slammed into him. “Shouldn’a talked to ya the way I did.” Even while you looked off to the side, he could see the way your face screwed up like you were about to cry again, but after a moment, you settled.

“No, you were right. I should have waited. Things could have gone a lot differently. I didn’t stop to think about how you would have felt if I had been bitten.” Daryl deflated at the utter dejection in your voice. “Anyway, goodnight, Daryl.” 

Watching you walk away, your arms wrapped around yourself so tightly, he let himself think about it; allowed himself to think about what he would have felt if you had been bitten. It wasn’t anger then. It was loss, despair, guilt. Whether he’d had to have taken your arm or not, the prospect of possibly losing you was more than he could even think to bear. What was more terrifying was that he realized that your loss would devastate him more than his own brother’s had.

“Y/N, wait!”

He couldn’t let you think he had acted that way out of anger alone. Yes, he had been angry but he had been scared. He couldn’t say you were his closest friend. That spot was taken by Carol. You were something else entirely. Something that he would never get the chance to explore or define, fear and awkwardness be damned, if something happened to you.

His feet were carrying him toward you at a brisk pace, your eyes wide at his approach but you didn’t move. You didn’t flinch or cower, even when he grabbed your shoulder and pulled in against his chest, wrapping both arms around you to hold you there.

“M’sorry.” He whispered into your hair. You weren’t hugging him back but that was most likely because your arms were pinned between the two of you. “Ain’t no reason for me to ever talk to ya like that. Ya ain’t stupid. You’re quick on your feet an’ it ain’t fair’a me to fault ya on that just cause m’too scared to lose ya.” He felt your sharp inhale while his face and neck flushed at the admission. “I—Christ, ain’t no good at this talkin’ an’ shit.” When your shoulders shook, he knew he’d made you cry again and took a step back, his hands sliding up to hold your shoulders. While that was true, the movement was from the laughter bubbling up from your chest instead of the tears falling down your cheeks. “The hell ya laughing at?”

“I like you too, Daryl.” Goddamnit, you had a pretty smile. He’d make a fool of himself ten times over if it meant you’d give him that smile just once.

“Ain’t a thing ‘bout likin’ ya.” He swallowed hard and looked away, the pink hue on his cheeks deepening. “Don’t know what it is, but, uh—well, maybe we can try to figure it out together?” He sounded like a lovesick teenager and was two seconds away from rolling his eyes so hard that they would relocate permanently to the back of his skull.

“I’d like that.” 

“Really?” He straightened, expression embarrassingly hopeful.

“Yeah. Yeah, I would.” 

“Right.” He cleared his throat and stepped back, not feeling like he’d entirely lost the right to call himself a man. “So, uh—Guess we should tell Rick that Olivia can get Spencer to help her. Maybe he’d stop oglin’ ya all the damn time if he’s cooped up in the pantry.” You reached for his hand and he let you take it. “Maybe I could talk her into lockin’ him in there for a while.” The walk back to the house wasn’t a long one and all too quickly, you were climbing the porch steps just in front of him.

“What’s wrong? Don’t want other guys checking out your girl?” 

Daryl almost missed the top step. “My girl?” He didn’t mean for it to come out quite so breathlessly. He was mostly definitely losing his man card that night. You were blinking at him, your smile slowly faltering.

“I—I misunderstood, didn’t I? Jesus, Daryl, I’m—”

“Nah.” He quickly derailed that train of thought. “Just liked hearin’ ya say it s’all.” 

“Are you—”

“Yup.” The smile was back and Daryl could breathe again. Somehow, standing there with you on the porch and him on the top step, just staring at one another was more comfortable than he could have ever imagined. 

“So,” you began, twisting your upper half back and forth, “you walked me home. Are you gonna say goodnight and kiss me now?”

Daryl’s face contorted in confusion, a dark brow arching. “I, uh—I live here too.”

“Does that really matter?” You asked, stepping a little closer. 

“Guess it don’t, really.” When you leaned forward, he didn’t stop you. Found that he didn’t want to. Even as new and undefined as whatever this was, this felt right and he’d be damned if he’d let a chance like that pass him by. 

Inside the house, Carol swirled the wine around in her glass, watching the kiss happen with a sigh of relief. “Finally.” Picking up her book, she took a sip and placed the glass down on the table before opening to the dog-eared page. “Now I don’t have to lock them in the pantry together tomorrow.”

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

The wishing well redux pt.1

Eric was driving home for spring break. Or rather what should have been home. He had no where to go when the college shit down for the week so he was forced to go to only place he had….his father’s house. Or rather mansion. His father was loaded. And demanded that he go to school for a degree in architecture so he could follow in his footsteps. Every part of Eric’s life was pre planned by his father. And he hated it. All he wanted was the loving father that he heard about his college friends having. But that wasn’t going to happen. Erin pulled up into the drive way and stared at the gothic style mansion. He breathed heavy trying to get up the courage to go in. His father was going to yell at him. He wasn’t doing so great in school right now. And his father was going by I give him the lecture about how “Morrison’s don’t make these mistakes. What makes you think you’re an exception?” It was a conversation his father had given him several times before. He knew it word for word. He got out of his black bmw. A car his father owned. One that Eric felt was punishment because he had to have a certain look being Morrison. And when he shut the door he just said “fuck” under his breathe. The was mud on the tires. And he had tracked mud through the the drive way. His father was going to be so mad at him. Maybe he would have time to clean it ? But that was quickly shot down as he heard his father clear his throat behind him. And as soon as he turned around. He was immediately slapped by the older man.

His father turned away from him leaving him with his head pointing to the ground. Welcome home Eric. The normal greeting. His father slammed the door behind him. The butler came up to him him with an ice pack. “Your father is really upset you master Eric. I’ll tend to things out here” said the older man as he handed him the ice pack. “I’ve already set aside some food in your room. I expect your father will tell you you’re not allowed dinner. But don’t let him know. You know how he is…”. The battle Grieves left his side to start cleaning the mud. He was an older man who had been in Eric’s life for as long as he could remember. This man was the one Eric always had to protect him. And the man had the scars from his own father to proofread. Grieves had a rightfully fitting man. Eric had asked him before why he never left and the old man just shrugged and said “where would I go?” Eric held the ice pack to his face. But knew had to hide it before he seen his father again. It was a sign of weakness and that was not some the Morrison men were. As Eric started to climb the steps to the gothic mansion his heart began to race even more. His palms already sweating when he turned the brass door knob.

When he got inside he quickly made his way to his room. His father was in the study at the bottom of the steps and he didn’t even look in his direction. He was halfway up the steps when he heard his father clear his voice. Instantly Eric stopped. “I expect you know that I don’t want to see you for the rest of the evening. You don’t deserve human interaction if you’re going to act like a barn animal. No food either”. Eric finished climbing the steps and slumped his way to his room where he shut the door as quiet as possible. Thank god Grieves has left him some food because he was hungry and couldn’t be seen leaving the room.

He finished the sandwich and just sat in his room playing on his phone. The good thing was that when he was sentenced to his room his father would not bother him. His father would refuse to have anything to do with him. It hurt though. Eric craved the attention of his father. To be loved like a son. That was the only reason he didn’t break ties and run away. But even though he was an adult, even if he tried his father would find him. And bring him back. His mother had tried the same before he passing and it got her locked on the grounds of the manor never able to leave again. Eric lost track of time when he fell asleep. Sweet sleep where he could be free and have the family he always wanted.

Eric found himself walking through a dark forest. Everything was black. But the trees were clearly illuminated. Grown with green leaves. But brown leaves covered the ground. He moved through the forest and came to an opening with a well. He slowly walked forward and he heard a rustling and from behind the well was what Eric could only describe as being a shadow. He couldn’t make out any of the features but there is was a moving shadow. “What do you wishhhh booyyy” it hissed at him. It pointed at him with claw like fingers and Eric could feel his breathe get heavy and his voice crack as he was forced to speak his truest desire. “I want my father to love me. I want him to love me for simply being me. And to stop caring about all the material stuff and just love his son”. Eric was sweating cold and heavy as the grasp of the shadow let go of him. And he heard a horrible cackle reverberate around the Forrest. Eric was instantly thrown back. As if being pulled back by an invisible force. Into the darkness from whence he just came.

Eric woke up to something smelling horrible. His back was hurting and when he went to stretch his hand hit the wall with a loud thump. Making whatever was on the wall shake. Eric’s eyes popped open. His father would allow something that would rattle to be on the wall. And that’s when he seen something that made him sit straight up. A hole in the ceiling on or his bed. When Eric sat up he was confronted with something that made him panic. Filth. Everywhere. In a corner he could see dirty clothes covered in mud and grease. Right next to an open pizza box with a half eaten pizza. When he sat up he could hear cans rattle and clink against one another. The room was small. There was stains on the wall that told him they had never been washed. A bed sheet covered a door way that he could only assume led to other parts of the house. The carpet was dirty and thread bar. His bed was on the ground. But that was the least of his worried. His body was so different. He was larger. A gut resting between his spread legs that were packed with muscle. His orca were huge and hairy. His hands and feet were so much larger than before and he could feel a beard tickling his chest. What was going on! As he managed to stand up he could hear the board creak under his weight. He felt weak spots in the floor that made him think he was going to fall through. And that’s when he heard it “ hey Eric. Come on in for breakfast!” It was his father. But there was a difference in the way he was speaking. Eric didn’t recognize it. He couldn’t find anything clear to wear and eventually settle on a pair of the dirty shorts from the pile. They had grease stains on them. He could find any underwear and it made him self conscious as he placed the shorts on feeling just much larger groin slapping his thighs. He could feel that he was sporting an obvious bulge in the shorts as they were almost too small for him.

He made his way out of the bedroom. The door opened into a hallway that had holes in the walls. The same dirty thread bare carpet that let to a kitchen. And when he got in there. He seen his father. Or what resembled his father. He smelt just as bad as Eric did. Or almost smelt as bad. An unkept beard with a gut that hung over his dirty jeans. Hair covered him too. He was smoking. Something a Morrison doesn’t do. “There’s my big guy ! I hope you slept well! I made your favorite. Bacon and eggs. Gravy biscuits. And a few cold beers !” He pointed to the seat across from him. Eric didn’t know what to think. He was being offered to eat with his father. In the same room. And his father even said that he made it ! “Well come on big guy! We don’t have all day. We have stuff to do ! “. Eric just looked at him. They had stuff to do? Like together ? “Oh and hear I got this for you. I found it in a bag at the thrift store. I think it will fit”. A Morrison never worse thrifted good. So of course Eric just stood there. But when the shirt was in his hand he put it on. It fit. But barely. He had a significant beer belly now. But the sleeveless shirt felt right at home. As Eric walked over to the seat he was offered and started to consume all the food his father had made for him.

When Eric was done eating he had consumed everything. Even the cold beers his dad had prepared for him. His gut was tight and the shirt was riding up slightly. It was such a differently feeling for him. Being able to eat whatever he wanted without his father telling about calorie intake so he would gain weight. His father took a long drag from his cigarette and blew smoke right in his face. “Well big guy. You ready for work ? I got a new place for us to go to !” Wait did he and his father work together ? His father told him to go ahead and put his shoes on. He didn’t have to get dressed in special clothes for work ? He went to living room feeling the floors and objects in the room shake. He was in a mobile home from the looks of it. When he plopped down on the couch the he heard the couch creak under his weight. His father handed him some shoes. Massive boat sized shoes that he’d never fill out. His father was being so nice to him tho. He even started to tear up. His father notice immediately. “Hey big guy what’s wrong ?! Those bastards aren’t picking on you again are they !? I’m going to talk to them.”

He bent down and start to undo the laces on the shoes. “Listen. There’s nothing wrong with needing help. That’s what Dad’s are for. And as long as I’m hear you’ll always have someone to help you do things like this. Now. What’s the rhyme ?” Drool pooled from Eric’s mouth. What the hell? Was he dumb now ? It just occurred to him that he was trying to remember this to tie his own shoes ….. and he had no idea. His father just laughed and sang a little catchy toon. It made Eric so happy he even clapped a little. “Alright. Let’s get going.” Eric followed his dad from the trailer and was greeted by a trash covered yard. Or rather what could be seen as trash but somehow Eric felt they were treasures. He followed his dad to an old white Ford pic up truck. His father driving of course. When Eric sat down you could see the truck do a noticeable plop from his weight. And then his father drove him to his new life. Eric then finally realized what that sound was in his fathers voice from earlier. Love. The first time he had heard it.

April 13th, 2021 10:00pm wishing well magic shadowwish

[mioakem]

anyone else ever think abt pre revival ctntduo? cause i do. like just think abt it. cq and cwil have always had their eyes on the other, but due to political rivalries and cschlatt, they never got to act upon their feelings. but then cq joins pogtopia and ya, they’re both a little bit fucked up, but they find solace in eachother. quackity sees it as love, maybe it’s cause he just got out of a shitty and abuse relationship, but he truly loves wil. Wilbur sees it as casual, right? he’s not planning on living past november 16th, so no use in falling in love now, right? wilbur begins to trust q, he trusts him enough to show him his plans. q is mortified, he tries his best to stop him. after that, q is more hesitant towards wil. they stop spending the nights together, and q starts avoiding him all together. it’s fine, ofc, it was casual, just like wil had thought. the nights are so much colder. when november 16th comes around, q is scared, mainly for wil. he doesn’t want to lose him, even though he already did. but, it doesn’t matter, wilbur dies.

quackity grieves, but only in the late hours of the night. no one knew about him and wil, and no one ever will. it was casual, no matter how much q didn’t want to believe that. q doesn’t let himself grieve forever, he picks himself up, he works with tubbo and tommy to rebuild what wilbur had destroyed. he tries to forget about the man he loved, but there’s always that lingering feeling. he starts seeing karl and sapnap, they’re good to him, they love him. he loves them as well, of course, why wouldn’t he? there’s no lingering smells of cigarettes, no grimy trench-coats, no matted curly hair. but there’s also no adrenaline to it, no stolen glances and secret meetings in the dark corners of the ravine. but he ignores it, and he stays with them, because they’re good to him, and he needs to learn that that kind of love is good for him.

then he shows up. at first, he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him, but no, he was face to face with wilbur’s ghost. quackity doesn’t know what to feel, so he doesn’t. he tries to ignore the ghost, but he’s a persistent one. quackity quickly learns that ghostbur’s memory isn’t the best. he learns that ghostbur remembers nothing of their time together. quackity pretends like it wasn’t a knife to the gut. of course he wouldn’t remember, just meant nothing, it was casual. it shouldn’t bother him anyways, he wasn’t in love with wilbur! and even if he was, it shouldn’t matter, he has karl and sapnap after all.

then everything falls apart. tommy burnt down george’s house, dream put up walls, tommy was exiled. quackity pushes everything personal aside, his country is what’s most important to him. he plans the hog hunt, he doesn’t think about wilbur for even a second, entirely focused on killing technoblade.

he fails, he loses his first life, he learns that tommy’s dead, and now he wants to kill dream. his injuries heal within weeks, but he refuses to take off the bandages, terrified of what lies underneath. he ignores ghostbur entirely, he doesn’t want the ghost to see him like this. he doesn’t want wilbur to see what’s become of him.

tommy is alive, tommy leaves his partnership with technoblade, l’manburg is destroyed, and ghostbur wants to be revived. quackity is mortified by the idea, he doesn’t want wilbur back, right? why would he, the man clearly doesn’t give two shits about him. ghostbur is nice, ghostbur is kind, he’s the better version of wilbur. quackity should’ve fallen in love with this version of wilbur instead. but why is he thinking like that? he has his fiancés, he’s happy in his romantic life.

dream is in prison, quackity creates las nevadas as a place for him, karl, and sapnap to live, they create a nation without him. He doesn’t care, it was never that serious anyways. quackity ignores ghostbur entirely, he’s too busy to think about the dead man, especially when there’s another one on his mind.

tommy dies, tommy is revived, schlatt wants to be revived. once upon a time, he was in love with schlatt, he was head over heals, one could say. once your in love, you never truly fall out of it, so quackity agrees to help schlatt. ghostbur begins to forget about quackity, and q is alright with that. what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. it was never ghostbur that was on his mind anyways. at night time, quackity dreams of a ravine.

quackity begins visiting dream. he needs that book, he needs to make the man pay for what he’s done, he needs to avenge tommy. so many reasons for torturing the masked man, so why doesn’t it feel justifiable. he knows deep down he stopped being the good guy a long time ago, he just doesn’t remember when he became the bad guy

quackity leaves a note for his dead…rival? lover? fling? he doesn’t know what to call him, so he settles with dearest friend. he lets him know he was right. and then quackity lets him go. he moves on, he’s ready to let the smoke clear from his memory.

quackity had told tommy he was always welcome in las nevadas, so he was expecting his arrival sooner or later. quackity had wanted tommy to join las nevadas for a while, not just because he would be a viable asset but also because, well sue him, he actually cares for the kid.

he goes over to greet him, he wants to show him around, considering it would be his first time in the golden city.

he just hadn’t expected to see a fully saturated wilbur soot standing next to him, dawning a matching white streak in his hair

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

You know how with hippies they sometimes meet new people and instantly vibe with them because they're on the same spiritual level? Yeah this happened to Remus once with another person and Sirius was not having it. S was convinced that R would get it in their head that it was a sign that they're dating the wrong person and leave him so he just sort of tries to be a hippie for the day. Remus thinks it was adorable.

THIS THIS THIS

So this oneshot takes place much earlier in their relationship just to make it a bit more feasible because I fully believe that after a few years Sirius was part hippie by nature, so here’s hippie Remus and scientist Sirius a couple of months in :)

Sirius glanced around the small bookshop and bit back a smile. Of course Remus worked there. Everything about them was becoming less and less surprising. Remus had said he’d probably be on till, so Sirius strolled past the shelves adorned with vines and string lights, some with old books, some new, some full of crystals and cards called… tarot? The moment he saw the till, his face brightened. God, what was happening to him? He hadn’t been this sickeningly into anyone since he was 14!

Remus was stood with his elbows resting on the counter, talking to someone who was presumably a customer and laughing. A lot.

Why were they laughing so much?

Sirius stepped a little closer, catching the end of their conversation.

“Sorry, I just have to ask; are you an earth sign, by any chance? I usually get along really well with earth signs.” Remus asked the guy, and Sirius frowned, confused.

What the hell was an earth sign?

“Yeah! Are you a water sign?”

“Yeah, I am.” Remus said with a smile, and Sirius’ heart dropped just a little.

“I’m Edgar, by the way.” The guy introduced himself, as Sirius reached a conclusion that he really didn’t want to reach.

Sirius was… boring.

“I’m Remus.”

He stared at a fucking microscope all day. His house was full of notebooks and equations.

“Well, Remus, we’re meant to be friends.”

Remus was free, interesting. Amazing.

Shit.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

He wasn’t good enough for Remus, with his extensive jewellery, dark purple flowing skirt and white shirt, a gentle brown eyeliner accentuating their amber eyes. Remus lit up a room, Sirius just walked in and analysed stuff. Christ, Remus was probably going to leave him. It had only been a few months, he was probably going to get bored of him in five minutes. He was too sheltered for someone like Remus.

Throughout this very minor and not at all terrifying panic, Remus had looked over and spotted him.

“Sirius! Hi!” Sirius snapped back into reality, trying to slow his own heart. His eyes met Remus’, and everything melted into a smile.

How the hell they could do that, Sirius would never know.

Maybe he really was magic.

“Hi, Rem. You nearly ready to go?”

“Yeah, yeah, almost. As soon as Marlene arrives we can get out of here.” He said, reaching out and squeezing Sirius’ hand, sending a jolt of electricity through him and making his breath hitch. He really couldn’t think like a normal person when he was around Remus. “Oh! This is Edgar!” Remus turned and indicated to him enthusiastically, Sirius’ brain switching back on. He turned and smiled politely at Edgar, ignoring the fact that he wanted to scream. Edgar was covered in crystals. More so than Remus, to the point that it felt like he was 50% stone. Not only that, but they were the ones that Remus had said were his favourites.

It was like the universe was dropping people in between Remus and Sirius in an active attempt to split them up. Sirius almost wanted to start pre-grieving the relationship to prepare for the inevitable breakup. How the hell was he meant to hold on to someone as amazing as Remus when he was just… him?

That was when it hit him.

Surely it couldn’t be that hard to be a hippie. He loved it in Remus, he must have been able to do it himself. There went the next week, while he figured out what he was meant to do.

He was going to be interesting enough for Remus if it fucking killed him.

-

Sirius had been acting off all week.

Remus was good at reading Sirius, and he was pretty sure that Sirius ending any messages complaining about employees with ‘what an air sign’ or ‘the vibes are off with that one’ was pretty out of character. Still, it wasn’t anything too noticeable, not until Remus went over Sirius’ that Saturday.

The moment he opened the door, something felt different.

Firstly, the lights were dimmed, and there was… incense burning? What the hell was going on with Sirius?

“Uh… Sirius?”

“I’m in the kitchen!” He called, as Remus ambled over. The moment he got into the kitchen he stopped, stunned into freezing.

Sirius was wearing a skirt.

A long, flowing, sandy orange skirt.

While Remus’ first thought very well may have been that it was insanely fucking sexy, his second thought was what on earth he was doing. He really wasn’t one for wearing skirts, no matter what a crime it was that he didn’t, and he was baking. As in, not sitting and getting excited about his work like he usually was. It was nice to see Sirius trying new things, but there was something off about it. Like he was trying to fit in to something that he didn’t quite fit into. Not yet, anyway. It seemed like it was making him slightly uncomfortable. He turned around and his face lit up.

Okay, something Remus was used to.

“Rem! Hi!”

“Hey, Sirius. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m great.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, wanting to get some sort of an answer. The switch had happened so suddenly it was like he had gotten whiplash, and he was desperate for answers.

“…yeah? Why, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. How was work yesterday?” Remus asked, walking over and kissing him quickly.

“Oh, I- I didn’t go.” Sirius admitted, cringing a little, and Remus almost cringed right alongside him, with the internal struggle Sirius seemed to have had with himself. “Gave myself a day off, you know? To be more… free.”

“Right, Sirius, what’s going on?” Remus asked. As much as he was enjoying Sirius baking in a skirt, him missing work was so odd that he had to get to the bottom of it. According to Sirius, the only other time he had was when he was so ill that James had forced him to go home.

“What d’you mean?”

“I mean you never miss work. You’ve found something you love, that you’re passionate about. That’s important. You’ve been acting different all week, what’s going on?”

“Different as in… bad?” Sirius asked, looking slightly stricken, and Remus’ heart immediately gave a slight tug.

“No, not bad!” He said hastily, quickly composing himself. “Just… different. It feels like you’re not being all that authentic to yourself.” He answered calmly. “You can talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I just-“ Sirius’ breath caught in his throat as he let his eyes slide shut and took a deep, stabilising breath. “I’m so boring, Rem.” Remus frowned, confused.

“Sorry?”

Since when was Sirius boring?

“I- I saw you talking to that guy, Edgar, at the shop. He was just- he was interesting, and you two got along so well, and it just made me think.”

“Think about what?”

“Remus, you deserve someone like that! Someone who knows which signs are fire signs and won’t talk your bloody ear off about cells!” He exclaimed, going to pace and finally morphing a lot more into the Sirius that Remus was used to. “It felt like a wake up call that, at some point, I would get too boring and you’d leave. Rightfully so. So I took it upon myself to make sure I was someone who deserves to be with you.” Remus watched him for a moment, processing.

Honestly? That was so bloody endearing.

Sirius looked like he was about to start up again any moment, arms flailing just slightly as he paced, pushing Remus to step forwards and grab his wrists gently to stop him. Christ, how Sirius could think he’d ever want anyone else, he’d never know. Couldn’t he see just how completely and utterly perfect he was? Sirius paused, turning and facing Remus, slightly wide eyed.

“Sirius, I don’t think you understand how much I like all of that about you. I really love how passionate you are about your work, how much you care, and how much you care about learning about the things I’m interested in. Just because Edgar knew what they were doesn’t mean I’m going to run away with him, or something. Surprisingly enough, Sirius, I actually love listening to you talk about work. You should see the way your eyes light up. I’m not going anywhere, and you sure as hell don’t have to prove yourself to me.” As he spoke, he slid his hands down from Sirius’ wrists until he had both of his hands in his. He knew he was going to have to tell him. For someone who was typically pretty sure of himself, he was nervous as fuck to tell him. “Christ, Sirius, I don’t just like you, I’m in love with you.”

He had thought Sirius’ eyes were already wide, but it was nothing compared to once he had gotten the words out. Fuck, had he freaked Sirius out? He hadn’t meant to, he had just wanted Sirius to stop panicking about changing. He just wanted Sirius to know he thought that he was perfect-

“I love you too.” Sirius admitted softly, a smile starting to form on his face. Remus smiled straight back, breathing out a relieved laugh.

“Well then we’re set.”

“But what if-“

“No ifs, just kiss me.” Remus answered quickly, moving his hands to pull Sirius in and kiss him. He pulled away shortly after. “I do love the skirt, though. It suits you.”

“Y’know what? I do too. It’s making me question quite a bit about myself, though.”

“Question away, love, I’ll be here for it.”

[anamenooneowns]

Healed

A/N: hi! i've started watching the OBX and i wanted to just write something platonic for rafe bc i feel like a lot could have been prevented if this kid just had love in his life, lmao. uh, so previously this was with the reader as him mother but i'm changing it to just be a woman who is his stepmother and black. anyone can read this though.

Warnings: light talking of animal abuse, talk of therapy, she/her pronouns.

This is entirely platonic.

IN WHICH: Rafe is Loved.

-Coming into Rafe’s life when he was starting to go through his issues at ten. He wasn’t stupid, he could see that his father was focusing more and more on Sarah and less on him

-So what did a young kid who wanted his father’s attention do? He tried harder. He tried harder because trying harder must have meant he just wasn’t doing enough in the first place. He stopped playing video games, studied 24/7, read books in his free time, took care of four year old Wheezie and of seven year old Sarah

-His stepmother saw how desperate he was for approval. Waiting for even just a splinter of a bone, like a dog, to take away and nurture secretly from everyone else’s eyes

-She also realized that when he saw good things weren’t getting his father’s attention, he turned to bad things… really bad things

-Starting fights, locking Sarah in places like the basement or closet if she got on his nerves, telling Wheezie scary stories that made her too afraid to leave her bed and gave her nightmares she couldn’t sleep from, catching him outside one day torturing a poor stray cat that was always near the house by pulling its tail until she found him

-Rafe was still wary of her: the stepmother. Maybe not as wary as he was filled with pre-conceived notions. She had to think he was just a nuisance, an annoying boy who got into shit and was just acting out and being a spoiled brat. Rafe saw nothing meaningful in being a child because the adults around him were always staring at him like some big disappointment, whispering condolences to Ward as if he had died as a kid. That it was just a phase and when he was older it would stop

-That was where Rafe’s desire to become a man had blossomed, until she stepped in and squashed that bullshit right in the bud.

-She opened her heart to Rafe in a way that scared him. This had to be a trap. What did she gain from being so nice and sweet? Brownie points with his father because she was a good step-mom? A good reputation among the other parents for stepping up for these motherless kids?

-He responded the only way a wounded dog could. By biting.

-He was nasty and rude and mean in a specific way branded to her. Hitting where he felt it would hurt the most, wanting–needing–to drive her away because he knew if he didn’t then he’d have to face the most painful truth of all

-That someone loved him

-And she did love this precious boy. This ten year old boy who was a maelstrom of pain and hurt and anger and confusion and a bone-aching loneliness that she swallowed for him with every smile, every defense of his actions, every meal, every ruffle of his hair, and every unsaid ‘I love you’

-The early grieved childhood of Rafe Cameron turned around with the help of one woman who made being a kid have value again.

-She was incredibly patient. Soon, very early mornings became ones of meditation for her and Rafe, silence befriending both as them as they sat outside on specific, comfy pillows to start the day. Incense in the air from fragrances like lavender and vanilla to frankincense

-Rafe never thought himself to be the creative type, but he shyly found himself really enjoying pottery with her. Painting too

-He liked the idea of being able to make whatever he wanted and give it new life and redo it if he made a mistake

-He loves listening to old-school R&B and Hip-Hop with her while doing it. He has one of those reversable plushies so if it’s smiling then he wants the session to be a talking one, if it isn’t then he doesn’t want to talk but it can change mid-session too

-Rafe also never says anything about it, but he adores her curly hair and she only knows because she caught him trying to peek discreetly at her while she was doing the last braid of the row she was on

-He’s so sweet and shy too, telling her that he likes the products she uses because they smell really good and just quietly watching her do the rest

-As Rafe grows older, it’s clear he’s changed a lot but she actually forced Ward to do something about this disconnect that she sees he still has. Rafe isn’t a bad kid but he still doesn’t see that when he does certain things, they hurt people’s feelings, and his empathy isn’t fully there 

-Rafe initially resists it because his thought process is ‘they think I’m crazy’ until he actually attends with her–for support–and really enjoys it

-Rafe is kinder to his sisters and is more like a big brother now, bothering them by going into their room for no reason, messing something up, then leaving

-Rafe is always in the kitchen when she is, watching her cook and helping too at her gentle instruction

-Rafe’s best friends have been Topper and Kelce his whole life but with her intervention, he finds himself not caring at all about ‘Kooks vs. Pogues’ similarly to Sarah and I see him not choosing to be friends with them anymore because he doesn't want to become the same rotten apple. You know what they say-one (two) rotten apples spoils the whole barrel.

-Healed Rafe is completely about protecting his peace. This kid meditates, drinks tea, has been learning to not react impulsively, and is super responsible

-Rafe actually going to college and not just fucking around with Ward's money and doing drugs, all because someone saw him and helped him instead of just watching him drown

-Rafe chooses to head to college outside of the OBX and North Carolina in general to just get away from it all and on the last day, all moved into his dorms in NYC, he hugs her tightly and for the first time in the decade she's been in his family he says, “Thank you, mom, for–for everything, okay? … I love you. Sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

-There’s a lump in her throat as she hugged her son, her baby, and just held onto him a little tighter

“Don’t apologize, baby. I already knew.”

[frogs-are-cool0]

Pre Jason death:

Jason is actually happy for the first time in his life, he has an actual father figure to look up to, he’s able to help people and he’s thriving. He is a happy go lucky kid with stars in his eyes who goes around telling people that “Robin gives him magic”. He is energetic, loving and happy.

Dicks the complete opposite, who he saw as his father has (in his eyes) just done the closest thing he could to disowning him by giving away his family’s colours and his mothers name for him to some random kid Bruce found on the street. He’s smoking, changed his name and has gone off on his own to prove a point to Bruce, he yells, he gets angry and he runs away from his issues.

Post Jason’s death though?

The jason people knew before is dead and in his place is the red hood, a man who takes no shit from anybody. This is a man who beheaded anyone who he didn’t like and left the heads in a duffle bag for some random person to find.

Meanwhile dick appears to be thriving, he’s made up with Bruce, he’s trying his best to be there for Tim and most importantly he looks happy.

What I’m trying to say is that after Jason’s death both dick and Jason wanted to reinvent themselves and leave who they used to be behind. Jason knew he had to be big and intimidating, someone who people would fear yet respect, and so (probobly without even realising it) took inspiration from his big brother. Dick understood that while everyone was grieving there had to be someone there to fill the void that Jason left and so he took inspiration from his little brother.

They became each other because the other person was who they looked up to the most and wanted to be like wether that was intimidating or happy.

———

Sorry if it’s not worded very well, I just needed to rant about that lmao

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Future

numero 11 here we go. @youngroyals-events <3

Wilhelm writes a letter to himself.

read below the cut or on ao3. (T, swearing, grief)

Hi.

It’s me, Future Wille. Or, I guess, it’s you, but in the future. Like, you are Past Wille and I, writing this, am Future Wille. Although, technically I can’t actually send this to you and the whole naming thing would make more sense if I was Past Wille writing to Future Wille. Whatever, you get it. I’m stalling. 

A few years ago, I (Past Wille but less Past than you are, you are pre-Hillerska Wille) wrote a letter that was meant for Future Wille, but I figure it got lost in the shuffle when the school was shut down (spoiler!). My therapist suggested that I write a new one, but to the past, and I thought, hey what a fun way to relive the most tumultuous and traumatic time of my life? Now I can see Simon watching me because he can probably tell I’m still stalling. How does he always know? (Just wait until I tell you about Simon.) 

Listen, the next few months are going to bring some of the best and worst times of your life. You’ll feel the greatest pain and loss you’ve ever felt, but also experience some of the most beautiful moments of love. 

You will lose your brother. It will hurt. Bad. You think those panic attacks you’ve had were tough? Just wait! You will feel like you’re no longer human. You’ll feel like no one fucking gets it. You’ll feel like you’ve forgotten how to speak, how to function, because how the fuck can he just be gone? You’ll think, what do you mean I just have to continue living without him? You’ll officially become Crown Prince and you’ll hate things even more. You’ll self-destruct a little bit. You’ll beg your parents to fucking see you. You’ll try to remember they’re grieving, too. You’ll continue on with your life, you’ll have to. The grief will get easier to carry and realizing that will almost hurt worse than anything else. You’ll learn to live with it, you’ll think of him every day. 

You will lose your brother a second time. I’m not sure I’m even ready to tell you all the things that will bring up. You will work on forgiving him because it helped you come to one big, important decision: You will step down from your right to the throne. 

It will be okay, just trust me. 

During that first year at Hillerska… where do I even start? You’ll be betrayed by someone you were told you could trust. Your parents will basically abandon you, too, and everything will go from periods of being actually pretty good to being absolutely horrible. Just know, this is proof, that you will make it through and be better for it. (maybe things didn’t have to go quite that shit for me to be ‘better for it’ – because holy shit – but isn’t that the way we’re supposed to talk about the past?)

You will learn so many things after leaving Hillerska. You will be happier than you’ve ever been. All of it will feel worth it, in a way. You’ll finish school and go to university like a normal kid. You’ll take a bunch of random classes because you’ve never really had a choice of career, so you’ve never really thought about it. You’ll still not really know what you want to do at 25. But you will be okay. 

I saved the best for last. Simon. 

Simon will appear in your life and he will be everything. He will be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He will challenge you, he will test you, he will make you feel things you’d never thought you could feel. You will lose him, three times, all of them your fault, in a way. You will cause a few national scandals (don’t ask). You will hurt him and he will hurt you. You will try to fix things and make it work. You will love him with every cell in your body. He will love you back. 

Listen, Simon will be the best thing that has ever happened to you. He still is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Keep him close. Kiss him as much as you can. Tell him you love him as much as you can. Make him sandwiches and make him laugh and try your very hardest to make him as happy as he makes you. Know that you end up together, in the end. 

I can’t warn you about everything. Just know that you will make it through. Be kinder to yourself. Take a step back, when you can, and let yourself breathe. Lean on Felice (but be there for her, too, she needs you). Forgive Mamma, forgive Pappa, remember they are just humans, too, and they are trying their best. Forgive yourself. 

Okay Simon is looking at me now in a way that means I’m done with this letter. Much more important matters to attend to. Namely, kissing the hell out of my boyfriend. You’ll understand soon. 

I believe in you. You can do this. 

Wille. 

[ardentpoop]

your a person who I feel really understands Sam and I always enjoy seeing your opinions on the show so i hope you don’t mind me asking a bit of a specific Sam question. In s8 Sam says that the time is he found with Amelia was something unique that he found for the first time in his life. I’ve always found that line to be a bit weird considering Stanford and Jess but I’d like to see what you think Sam means and is saying by this line. Have a good day.

hi :)

I have mixed feelings on the amelia arc leaning more positive than negative bc I’m a contrarian and I thought the fandom disliked that arc for the wrong reasons lmao - as usual dean’s inescapable perspective aggressively dampened ppl’s ability to empathize w/ sam. also as usual this fandom hates women as much as the show does.

anyway bird’s eye view: sam’s “break” with amelia pre-s8 followed the extremely traumatic events (for sam more than anyone) of s4-s7. he spends literal years dealing w/ one catastrophe after another, his and dean’s relationship suffers its first major breakdown in s4 that imo they never truly recover from, he sacrifices himself to save the world bc it was “his fault” it nearly ended, he suffers an eternity of torture in the cage and loses those memories then regains them then loses them again, nothing feels solid to him least of all his own body and mind. and then dean dies in the s7 finale! or at least, sam thinks he does - he has no reason to believe otherwise. and sam looks for dean, we see that he does, we see him spinning out and suicidal again, but then he stops. bc he hits a dog! and he meets A Girl. and this girl, like him, is drifting and grieving and desperate for something solid to hold onto for just a while. and she’s prickly and unapproachable at first and sam finds that comforting.

my overall point is that sam’s headspace going into stanford era and sam’s headspace pre samndean reunion in s8 are like…. impossibly different. he goes through shit his teen self wouldn’t even have the words to describe. he and dean hit lows that he would’ve never thought possible when they only had each other for comfort under john’s roof.

stanford era sam was blessed with ignorance; he was trying to be Normal, he left his stifling family unit behind and started planning a stable future without them, he was doing everything you’re Supposed to do to be a happy successful person per american individualism - and at the time, it WAS making him happy, bc everyone had kept him in the dark abt the nefarious plot he was smack-dab in the middle of; he didn’t know his freedom was an illusion and that he’d never stopped being watched.

pre-s8 sam on the other hand has long since given up on normalcy. he views himself as a freak who will “never be okay” and hunting as a burden that he deserves to bear. it takes dean being gone for the veil to lift a little and remind him that A) it’s maybe okay that he’s a freak lmao bc amelia’s kind of a freak as well and they can help each other specifically because they’re broken in similar ways, and B) he CAN feel okay when he’s not hunting.

like we know sam’s always hated hunting lol his introduction as a character is centered on this inner conflict. however sam “running away” from “the life” before he knows abt what azazel did to him and before he’s made to shoulder the burden of the apocalypse in s5, among countless other burdens, and sam making an Informed Decision to step back from hunting are 2 entirely different things. to me.

also btw sam turning away from hunting is inextricable from sam turning away from dean, and punished accordingly. bc sam’s Place is at dean’s side whether he likes it or not. he is reminded of this the very instant dean gets back from purgatory and bombarded with guilt abt it for the rest of the season until he cracks.

[kairithemang0]

Hi I reblogged the post that I assume you’re pissed about. You wanted someone in your inbox.

My gripe is with the fact that Curt is portrayed as weak sometimes on tumblr (not by any one singular user) and I find that frustrating for my own personal tastes.

I have never read any of your saf fics, only some hatchetfield stuff. I couldn’t even tell you what you have saf fics about, I simply do not know.

If you portray Curt in the way that post describes, I would prefer to read

A) someone else’s fic

B) a different fic by you

C) something off my bookshelf

D) all of the above

I think it depends on the fic. I think that post fall especially curt FEELS weak. He’s not, but he’s lost all his confidence. He is a great spy, he wouldn’t have the title as one of the best if he didn’t. But post fall, with what happened to Owen, and how it was his fault, and how he feels like he ruined everything. He feels weak, he feels like a failure. He feels like he can’t do anything.

But pre fall? He’s not weak at all. He’s got an ego, he fucks up because he wants to be the best, when he already is, but it causes him to act irrationally and screw up.

Personally, I think Curt generally struggles with self confidence, pre fall especially around Owen and post fall with just… everything. He wants to be the old Curt, confident and brave and able to do anything. But now he feels like a fuck up, because of what happened to Owen, because of what happened to the prince. He spent 4 years grieving Owen, 4 years drowning in whiskey and the fact he feels like he can’t do anything because he let the one person that really really mattered go, and is only now realizing the weight of his feelings for him, only now really realizing how much Owen actually meant to him. You only know you love them when you let them go, as that one dog shit song goes (I hate that song)

Also I know the post you’re talking about, I’m not generally pissed about it but I have my other gripes relating to that person that’s me just being an asshole so it doesn’t matter

[menacetomany]

deeply tired of fandom mischaracterizing frecklewish

Disclaimer before i start this post: I do not hate frecklewish. She is my favorite character in MV alongside Maple herself. She had every right to be mad at Mapleshade for lying (yes, omission is still a lie), she did not wrong Maple herself in any way, shape, or form, she could not have realistically done jack shit at the river, and she didn’t deserve to die, and she DEFINITELY didn’t deserve *hell* (although it’s kinda funny).

However.

For the love of StarClan stop flattening her character into a one-dimensional uwu sadgirl. She’s grieving, yes, but she’s *angry* in that grief! She’s messy and flawed and xenophobic and may or may not want to kill cats she unfairly blames for her brother’s death (they would both maul me if i said this but maple and freckle are foils and nobody realizes it) and I love her for it! People are allowed to be ugly abt their trauma!

A lot of people act like Frecklewish was crying 24/7 before briefly slipping up and calling children a slur before continually crying until she got murdered, and that’s a complete disservice to her character. There are people, and warrior cats, who grieve like that. Frecklewish is not one of them. 

People act like she just had a burst of anger during Mapleshade’s exile calling the kits a name, but even pre-lie she exhibits concerning behavior:

To be clear, Appledusk did not murder Birch. This is ThunderClan’s perception of the events because it’s easier to blame a cat from the other clans, a cat who is by their metrics inherently Worse and Deceitful and Scheming, then to think critically about why they were fighting so fiercely above a raging river over rocks they could easily share in the first place :p

(a note: the code about not killing people is treated much more leniently than the codes about having babies with the wrong people. It’s even worded softer--”An honorable warrior need not kill to win their battles.” Almost like a strong suggestion. Warriors culture idolizes violence and revenge as outlets for grief. Boy I Sure Hope That Prevalent Ingrained Societal Attitude Doesn’t Horribly Backfire Anytime Soon!)

And. The exile.

Freckle kicking Maple’s ass was funny and deserved. But.

To be clear, Frecklewish’s misdeeds in this scene cannot be simplified to ‘calling the kits a bad name in a moment of anger’. She is the very first cat to call for the kits’ exile. Oakstar was her *father*. If she’d appealed for the kits she claimed to love, or even just said “Mapleshade gtfo”, things might’ve gone much different.

Calling for three children who’ve barely started weaning to be exiled into the wilds is disgusting, and far worse than Mapleshade’s lie. Even if Maple hadn’t panicked and tried to cross the stepping-stones, all of her other options had a non-zero chance of the kits dying.

(Something to keep in mind is that Mapleshade is a Clan cat from birth. She is not like a loner who is used to fending for herself, and needing to suddenly balance hunting for herself and her kittens and keeping them safe from predators would be very difficult. Kittens are kept in camps for a reason.]

*Mapleshade could not have waited for a patrol. She had a time limit to get out before she and her kittens were attacked and possibly killed by ThunderClan.

*The bridge is further away, and on windclan territory. It’s at the base of the falls, not the top, and has flooded before. Wet rocks or slippery wood-pick your poison.

*There was a fox near Fourtrees at the time, and it’s doubtful Mapleshade could’ve fought it off alone. (The time for scents to go stale seems to be several hours-one day, and this was roughly a day after her exile.)

*ShadowClan and WindClan have even less reason to take her in than RiverClan, especially considering she’s an exile. She might be attacked like Riverclan would’ve had the kits not died: 

leaving her even worse off than before, and vulnerable to predators.

*Going to Twolegplace was worse than the river. Oakstar attacking kittypets was a one-time thing iirc, but she does meet hostile kittypets later--and even setting that aside there’s dogs, foxes, CARS, and of course twolegs. tired kittens trying to cross a thunderpath would not end well.

*go to the barn: windclan + thunderpath.

*go to Other barn: river’s still there only this time she doesn’t even have a camp at the end.

There was no way this was gonna end well, honestly.

To be clear, ultimately it was still Oakstar’s decision. He bears the brunt of responsibility. If anyone other than Maple deserved to go to hell, it was *him*, not Freckle. Common warriors story team L.

Frecklewish never shows regret for her part in the exile, only that they died. Said regret doesn’t last long before she tries to kill Mapleshade.

poor little tragic racist meow meow, doomed by her own rage. theres something deeply ironic about that.

A final note: frecklereed is almost as hilarious as maplereed when frecklewish was willing to exile the kits for being related to appledusk and reedshine is his number one apologist. they’d be dueling to the death bruh

[kwop-kilawtley]

the movies robbed us of so many great bella x jake moments that were in the books… and some were just half-assed with no real impact, such as their breakup in the end of eclipse. the scene in the book is beyond heartbreaking, but in the movie it’s so? meh?? or on a lighter note, the training scene when jake was in wolf form and he licked bella’s face, that was some cute bff shit that i wish they had included. so if you had to pick 3 moments from the books that you wish were in the movies, which would they be? 

We were ROBBEDDDDDDD!!!!! Simply! Okay Literally the end of eclipse is the bane of my existence it ruins me every time and the movie scene was NOTHING. The entire purpose of eclipse was her fighting with the fact that she does love Jacob and that she DOES have to make a choice. So for them to just throw away that end scene with them was horrible. She doesn’t even say she’s in love with him or cry or give us ANYTHING. Also like in the book they were cuddled in bed and then afterwards she was grieving over him and depressed. It’s my biggest issue with all the movies. WE NEEDED THEM CRYING AND CUDDLING AND GRIEVING OVER THEIR LOVE AND LIFE AND FUTURE. WE NEEDED HER TO SAY WHAT SHE SAYS IN THE BOOK that Jacob is her soulmate and she WANTS to stay with him but that she didn’t have a choice. We needed edward being like are you sure? I never seen you so upset… and then bella being miserable about planning the wedding cause she never wanted it.

I also understand why a lot of this fandom is team Edward bc if you only watch the movies it makes sense bc it doesn’t even seem like Jacob is really all that important. In the books he is there ALL the time and all of Bellas best moments are with him. They have more of a romance than Edbella.

Idk if I can just pick 3 tbh….. also this is not counting the end of eclipse but that’s totally my main issue and wish we got it so bad

1. In new Moon Bella having that dinner with Jake & the family pre wolf. She was holding hands with Jacob giggling and being a cute teenager with him & she said she felt genuinely happy for once. GODD I love this scene so much.

2. In new moon where after she jumps off the cliff and they go back to jakes house and she’s changed into his clothes and they’re cuddling and he falls asleep on her.

3. Conversation hearts. Sorry but this has a grip on me and I wish they included it so bad 😭😭😭🫶🏻

But like there’s SOOO many tbh. So many scenes of them in the garage being real and cute. There’s a few scenes in eclipse I am thinking of that were so good.. like when she’s just with him on the beach when she shouldn’t be. There were a few beach meets with them and they’re just so tender ugh. That scene in eclipse where Jake and her are doing dishes together and he accidentally cuts himself and she’s like freaking out. Jacob is in eclipse a LOT and it’s so obvious how much she loves him and how much she’s really trying to be annoyed at him. Which is all revealed in the end ofc. Oh also them trying to find the meadow!! Hiking together unsuccessfully. There’s so many honestly ugh. Feel free to send me some more than you wish were included or scenes in the movies that did not properly portray. OH SPEAKING OF DUHHH THEIR FUCKING KISS IN ECLIPSE???? Bellas inner monologue is so intense it’s such an insane awakening for her and she sees their whole future and the fact they cut that out is HORRIFIC. tbh I think a lot of people skip over Jacob parts. I also think the producers knew that if they portrayed any of this then it wouldn’t be good bc exb is endgame.

[gayofthefae]

I actually really like the representation of the nuance - not in the actual person but in the perceptions - of Lonnie and his kids. Jonathan clearly took some shit too but from what we’re shown and told, the bulk of it was targeted at Will with Jonathan stepping in.

But Jonathan hates the man and Will tries to justify that “it’s fun to go with him sometimes”. It’s just so logical to me. Jonathan watched his little brother get hurt and it fueled anger in him. But Will was hurt and told himself “at least he said he’d hang out with me even if he didn’t. I mean, that’s nice too. I enjoy baseball sometimes going with him even though I don’t like it. I mean, it’s the thought that counts really.”

I just really like that balance. Where Lonnie is clearly shitty and nobody is arguing that. And Billy is clearly shitty and people should stop arguing that. So to the audience, we know that they are clearly shitty. But we can still watch Will and Max say “I miss you. I wish you could have been my brother” and “It’s fun to go with him sometimes” and grieve and look on the bright side no matter how illogical it is because that’s how that shit works. The victim will always cope. And it’s only sometimes by villainizing. And typically even if they do, they won’t do that the whole time - like Max with Billy pre vs post death.

I was just so relieved when I saw things like that they had allowed Max to grieve. And the hesitation when El dropped Papa’s hand and the way that she listened to him even if she didn’t concede or forgive. Because he raised her for 12 years. And Max still wanted Billy to be her brother - part of her didn’t want him to be gone, she just wanted him to be better. And Lonnie raised Will. And they can’t help it. They LOVE them. That’s what fucking happens. And I am sick and tired of people saying that these abusers were given redemption arcs. They weren’t. The people saying that don’t see them as redeemed and the writers know that which is why they can afford to tell the stories of their victims grappling with the nuance. Because to say that all someone feels when their abuser of years goes away is relief is just blatantly inaccurate.

And Will Byers and “a child abused doesn’t stop loving the parent, it stops loving itself”.

[lovecolibri]

Now that 911 is a (more or less) finished product, looking back on the thing as a whole kind of exposes that it often asked for (& got) more credit for it’s supposed progressiveness than it really should have. Maybe that’s not really a surprise given that apparently it’s core audience is middle aged white people. But let’s review and think about some of the more questionable messages we’ve been willing to overlook in hope of future improvement:

1. Casual sex is bad and people who have it are disrespecting themselves and eachother. Day one.

2. A therapist (in a position of power & authority) having sex with a (vulnerable, emotionally unstable) patient is funny. Nobody will ever call it assault or even admit that anybody was taken advantage of. It will be brought up later, but only in the form of a joke.

3. They gave the lesbian couple the cheating storyline.

4. A bOy NeEdS hIs MoThEr. On it’s own was one thing because in the specific instance of Shannon she was a known factor and it was about re-establishing a pre-existing bond, so you could say maybe they just expressed “this specific character loves and misses a parent he remembers” poorly. But then when you combine it years later with telling the lesbian couple that a BoY nEeDs HiS fAtHeR after said father exhibited extremely alarming borderline grooming behavior…. The combined effect leaves a taste about as pleasant as toothpaste & orange juice. Got it. Gay and single parent homes are incomplete. 👍 Real nice.

5. We can overlook the lack of intimacy with Mavid because it happened at the height of the pandemic (and one of the actors turned out to be a serious antivaxxer), but why so little physical affection for Henren? Six whole seasons and only a couple seasons, and they were only allowed to finally imply that sex successfully happened in a flashback? They get interrupted every other time? Because what, they audience is expected to be the “fine as long as I don’t have to see it” type?

6. Chimney and Buck didn’t need to work their shit out onscreen, after such a serious falling out? Why is that?

7. For that matter writing Chimney out for the duration of JLH’s maternity leave because???? His character is only relevant in relation to her??? Even though he was there first???

8. The Taylor of it all. The show never actually condemns her for attempting to use a vulnerable, high, grieving Bobby for personal advancement? Buck, who loves Bobby like a father, is okay with it?

9. Everybody must forgive their shitty parents no matter how little they try. I think only Toni properly apologized. And Ramon at least expressed general regret and willingness to change. Everybody else was totally unearned.

10. For all the found-family vibes, the show actually never once says that? The closest we actually get is May saying it in 6x11, and Bobby acknowldging it, but that is A: specific to Bobby & Buck only and never brought up or even shown again. That’s the last time their storylines intertwine. Given the repeated hammering on the subject, the ultimate message seems to be that making your own family is nice but blood family is paramount.

11. The last season completely undermined the unconventional family structure that they had built with Chris, Eddie, & Buck. They didn’t have to actually go the romantic route to preserve that. They could have left off open-ended, or even put a bare minimum effort into setting up decent female love interests for one or both of them while still saying “this dynamic is still important and any new person in their lives is going to have to be okay with it.” Because families can look all sorts of unusual ways!

Idk in the end I think 911 missed a lot of opportunities to actually be as interesting as we gave them credit for being when we could still believe they were building to something. But instead they committed a sin worse than being bad, and that’s being boring.

Wow. This is...A Lot to look at laid out all at once. I will say 2 things, one, as far as intimacy goes, the show definitely had more in season 1 and a little in s2, and then sort of went to more "implications". Not sure why but it's been kind of a bummer. I don't expect cable levels but like, *somthing*. And it could be actor preference too, who knows, but it's been pretty across the board (except for Buck of course because KR is obsessed with getting into his pants). We DID see a sex scene with Hen in season 1it was just tied to the cheating thing sooo 😬😬😬 and we got the flashback but boy did Henren get interrupted at every other turn! And, we got Eddie in season 3 saying the line about "isn't that what the 118 is? The family we choose?" but you're right, that thread has been dropped HARD since KR took over because apparently she doesn't like found family.

[theancientdarkbeauty]

💚🦈- Blood, Garnet, Scarlet, Wine, Lipstick and Poppy

Alright, first, I’ll do Tera, my Half Life OC. The quick background on her is that she is a biochemical engineer who was testing the Biology Department’s HEV suit when the Resonance Cascade happened, and thus survived by pure accident. Being Australian however, she was able to hold her own against the space Australians. You don’t run into her during the game because the Military slit her throat thinking she was Freeman, but she survived! Barely! With the help of GMan and some science (and morphine from the suit). Anyways, onto the ask game

Blood- what would she do if she saw a stranger’s corpse: originally, pre rescas, depending on the place, she would’ve panicked. Whose body is this, what killed them, am I in danger as well? That kinda stuff. Unless it was like a funeral she accidentally got invited to (she would go to see if she knew anyone there and if she didn’t she would apologies) post ResCas, probably after stasis, legit that would’ve been just par for the course. Unless it had a Headcrab on it. Then she would stab the Headcrab (she hates those things)

Garnet- if they had to kill someone, what method would they choose: the most quick and painless way possible. Not a stranger to mercy kills after the rescas, she has found that shooting someone in the soft part right between the skull and the neck on the back of the head is the least painful and most sure fire way to kill someone, aiming up thru the skull ofc. If she didn’t have a gun on her tho she would snap their neck.

Scarlett- how does she grieve: She used to get real quiet, cuts herself off from people, silently reflect on times she had with the person. However, after the rescas, most all of her friends had already died, and she was in Europe now instead of America or Australia, so she just assumed that her family was dead, so she forced herself to channel the pain and grief into rage, helping her get through her rather extraneous circumstances. She really just needs a hug and a good cry smh

Wine- How does she act when she’s drunk: She’s a happy drunk, but is also a heavyweight. Think of it like Brooklyn 9-9’s “# drink Amy” system. She gets real fun (a little loud) for the first 5 drinks. After 5 shit hits the fan, but she knows her limits. (She gets really competitive at drink 7 is the problem)

Lipstick- What is her love language: she is probably physical affection and quality time. Poor girl didn’t have the time to spend with people to fell fulfilled in a relationship before the rescas, and probably never will again.

Poppy- Does she believe in a god: After meeting up with Gordon after the rescas, he told her about the Nihalinth, and so she believes in some sort of higher being, but not probably the Christian god. She is a woman of science after all.

Time for Jaws! You all know Jaws (hopefully) but if you don’t, they are this crime gremlin I made for Payday. Common traits among all Jaws are: extensive scarring, multiple mental disorders, propensity for explosives. But the main point is just they’re a crime gremlin

Blood- what would they do if they saw a stranger’s corpse: they probably put it there. If it’s a civilian, they’d probably swear a lot because that’s coming out of my paycheck but otherwise they would just leave it there, bc they don’t want their finger prints on the scene

Garnet- if they had to kill someone, what method would they choose: shoot them. Or stab them. They aren’t above murder, they do it often. Chemical weapons are also fun, but they aren’t allowed to use them anymore after the Safehouse accidentally got filled with mustard gas that one time

Scarlet- how do they grieve: violently. Lots of murder, lots of stealing. At the Safehouse, where they can’t lash out violently, they have this thing called a “stab pillow”, it’s a throw pillow they started stabbing when they were mad. Also they have their dogs for emotional support (Rexy and Tatsuya my beloved)

Wine- how do they act when they’re drunk: they mellow out a lot actually! Get really tired, but also usually have enough energy to play like drinking games and stuff. Very much a lightweight.

Lipstick- What is their love language: they are aroace, but with their “family”, it’s quality time. They just like being in the presence of people (they aren’t physically affectionate but very touch starved so think of them like a cat on occasion)

Poppy- do they believe in a god: no. God abandoned them.

Anyways that was for both Jaws and Tera hope everyone is doing good! (Sorry if topics got a little dark both of them come from dark source materials)

[deadwife]

I’m waiting for my install of The Sims 4 to update with the new stupid EA launcher and am drinking a beer and digesting the weekend and planning this week and it got longer than I expected

Had off Friday and got my hair cut for the first time since July. Did laundry and hung out with my dad for a bit. Got a new dish from the local Chinese restaurant that was like 40% onions. Gross. Saturday I swept & vacuumed the house (stabbed the shit out of my finger on a pushpin that was stuck in the vacuum hose), cleaned the kitchen, and hung out with my friends & boyfriend. We saw the FNAF movie in the evening, which was fine. The animatronics were very cool and the story was accessible whether you were familiar with the games or not. I liked Foxy’s weirdly intimidating “dum-de-dum”, the YouTuber cameos, and the end credits song. I only ever watched like two playthrough of the first game and didn’t realize Foxy’s area was right next to the main stage? I thought he had his own room. Today I could not get motivated until the afternoon but made myself go out for a walk (and PokeGo), grocery shopping (soup was on sale!), and raked leaves.

Tomorrow I have a meeting at work at 10, then have to leave by 3:30 to make sure my mom’s dog gets to the vet by 5… Tuesday is Friendsgiving at my other office so Monday night I also have to bake two things (probably chocolate zucchini bread and a gluten-free cinnamon coffee cake)… Wednesday is normal I think. Thursday is a teleconference training 9-11, then a staff meeting on the afternoon???

Friday the current gov’t budget runs out and I haven’t heard yet about congress signing another continuing resolution yet so we may shutdown /blows a raspberry into my palm

my agency has prior-year funds that can be used to keep our salaries up which is COOL except I also had to work through the 2018 shutdown while my mom’s agency was furloughed. :/ I should be grateful to have job security and a paycheck while other people may not get paid until the end of the shutdown. But still. I want some time off where I don’t have to worry about my stupid email inbox.

Anyway while all this is going on, I’m basically waiting for my mom to let me know my aunt passed away since she was sent to a hospice facility last Sunday and the plan was for her to go back home on Friday to, you know. It sucks and even tho I’ve been waiting for this since she got diagnosed in the late spring, I feel like my pre-grieving is going to go about as well as Roman Roy’s did.

Here’s a picture of my cat if you read all that, her name is Piper.