#feel like I’ve also made this point before but I’m still losing my mind over it

[dallasgallant]

Can’t remember who said it a few months back but part of why Darry is so rough on Ponyboy, apart from not knowing what he’s doing and it being a hard transition from brother to guardian is that it’s quite literally doctors orders.

Keep him busy, keep him occupied— added with focusing on the “checkpoints” of what a guardian is supposed to do and that Ponyboy has the chance Darry didn’t when it comes to going to college. The main thing about Darry is that he’s so focused on securing the future that he misses the present (maybe a future meta/longer. That line really hits ough)

Darry said “I love you so much” *chucks 14 year old into deep end of the pool and yells at him to float*

~

Can’t have night terrors if you’re exhausted! Love you 1960s medicine. He just gives pony a Benadryl …. Rip Ponyboy Curtis would’ve loved melatonin. 😔

[phant0mth1ef]

are we still friends? can we be friends? are we still friends? i’ve got to… know. (pt. 2 to the feeling that i’m losing her, forever). part 3

to say you didn’t expect to see a pair of bright red eyes staring you down as you walked into the facility was an understatement, you hadn’t made eye contact with those eyes in over a year, and you flinched the moment you realized just who you were looking at.

you’d stumbled into inasa once you snapped out of your daze, catching yourself quickly as your cap hit the floor, the boy using his wind in order to float it back onto your head.

“thank you.” you mumbled before going to take your spot in line, coincidentally right next to your former best friend.

“why haven’t you called me?!” so now he wants to begin a conversation.

“been busy.” you shrugged, refusing to even look at him because you knew you’d start crying the moment you met his eyes again.

“okay? you could’ve texted me or some shit!”

“my phone stopped working.” you were competing for the title of nonchalant final boss at this point with how casual you were being.

“bullshit. i saw you with it at the exam! just tell me why you’re avoiding me like the plague.” it may not have looked like it, but bakugou was scared out of his mind. you’d changed since the licensing exam, he could sense it in the way you carried yourself. you were being cold.

“what the hell happened to you?? you used to always call me, always text me. what happened?” did he seriously not know what happened?

“you happened.” and that was all you were able to say before the proctors for the training session entered the room, quickly commanding you all to stand in line as your face changed to a softer expression.

it was a casual sparring session, so why were you sending rocks the size of boulders his way? his mind was too clouded to even dodge them effectively, the words you said still playing out in his mind as he mindlessly sent out explosive attacks.

you’d tried to pack up as quickly as possible afterwards to avoid a confrontation with your former best friend, but you heard the clanking of his boots hitting the ground and just let out a sigh.

“what?” you snapped.

“what me? what you!” he was starting to get angry, the way he would get angry back in middle school.

“what about me?! you’re also at fault here. i was the one always trying to get in contact with you! i just grew up and realized that if you wanted to, you would.” you begun to shove all your things into your duffel bag, accidentally smashing your fist into the ground.

“what the hell does that even mean?! you’re the one who stopped calling me outta nowhere. i didn’t tell you to do that.”

“don’t you get it?! i was the one always calling!” you shoved your bag to the floor as you stood up straight, your voice getting strained as you finally made eye contact with bakugou.

“i was the one who always had to start talking to you first! it made me feel like a nuisance. and then one day i hear you telling your new friends that you think i’m annoying? like what the fuck, katsuki. none of this is my fault. if you’d just been a man and picked up the phone, this could’ve been avoided.” you had a habit of crying once you got frustrated, so naturally the tears were threatening to fall from your eyes.

he didn’t have any words, letting out a scoff as you picked up your bag and shoulder checked him on your way out, sending him stumbling back as he just stared at the ghost of your presence.

later that night he sat in his dorm room, his finger hovering over your contact but never once pressing on it, unsure of what he’d even say if you decided to pick up.

“i mean how the hell am i supposed to apologize? she’s so confusing. like damn sorry i called you annoying but it isn’t even that big of a deal anymore that was months ago!” bakugou was ranting to his little group of friends that were huddled on his floor, suprised that the boy would even invite them, let alone drone on about his issues with the friend that none of them even knew about.

“so you called her annoying but you didn’t know she was listening?” mina spoke up.

“yes but that was months ago! i don’t even know how to talk to her anymore because she won’t listen to me.” he sprawled flat on his bed.

“sounds like you’ve dug yourself a deep hole bakugou.” kirishima said, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

meanwhile, back at shiketsu, your group was currently huddled in camie’s dorm, and you sat on the bed while they formed a circle around you.

“i don’t know who he thinks he is but i am not going to beg for him to be my friend, i am not going to be as pathetic as i used to be!” slow teardrops fell from your eyes as you recalled back in middle school when bakugou found more friends and slowly begun to leave you behind.

“i know, and i get that, but you should at least try to give him a chance. he’s making an effort.” she tossed you your phone that was sitting on the desk, a notification on the lock screen.

[kats 💥🫂]

Meet me at the spot tomorrow. Please. 4 PM.

tags; @riverozada @lupitalove @msjaeger @aintseennothinyet @wendeeeee ask and you shall receive sorry if its kinda bad 😢😢

[caws5749]

Useless in A Good Way

A/N: oh, another fic where she writes a pregnant reader… YES IM SORRY but I’ve dreamt of being pregnant since I was little and it’s my biggest dream so here we go again 😭I’m working on requests as well but this just popped into my head. I felt very... out of practice with the last few pieces but writing this... I feel good again.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head at some inappropriate joke Tony made after Clint won the round of whatever card game they were playing. Natasha’s hand rested on your thigh, squeezing accidentally while she laughed. The music played in the background, barely heard over the nearly hundred voices that filled the main room of the compound for the latest party Tony had deemed necessary.

You turned your head towards your wife to admire her for a moment. Nat caught your eye, sending you an admiring smile that she reserved only for you.

“You look radiant,” she murmured, leaning in closer to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You blushed, loving the red that still tainted your cheeks after four years of marriage.

"You look like home," you replied quietly, just barely loud enough for her- and Steve (curse that super soldier's hearing)- to hear.

She really did look like home. Her dress was long sleeve and snug, ending just below her knees and made of the softest cashmere. It was cozy and warm and loving, just like her, just like home.

The smile she let show threatened to overtake her lips, so she ducked her head as she always did. Perhaps even more so, considering the amount of alcohol she'd ingested.

You were the only one not drinking, which probably had something to do with the fact that you were seven months pregnant... with twins. You felt like you could hardly move and you the thought of two more months made you simultaneously groan and smile. Not to mention, you hadn't used your powers in a few months; the pregnancy hormones had affected your abilities in a questionable way, and the last time you had tried to let the familiar cool water flow from your hands, nothing had happened. It simply seemed that they had.. petered out. And you were warned by Dr. Cho to avoid trying to use them too much anyway.

"I should probably go check on the intelligence report," you said, sighing. Given that you were the only completely sober being present, it was your task to check on the latest intelligence report currently running after some curious and daunting messages of late.

Natasha nearly pouted, before standing and gripping your forearms with the gentle strength that only your wife could perfect. You groaned, all of your muscles giving maximum effort to stand from a seated position, your large abdomen giving you little room to move.

"God, I have two more months of that," you muttered.

"And it's only going to get harder," Clint chimed in, chuckling sympathetically. You sent him a mock glare.

"I'll go with you," Nat stated, a hand falling to your back. She hardly let you go anywhere alone, not that you minded. Living in the Avengers compound was one of the safest places there was, but it also was a target.

"Sit, I'll go," Steve said, "I've got to check on Bucky anyway."

"Finally, Natasha, it is your turn to lose so one money," Tony grinned, shuffling the deck of cards. Your wife retook her seat, rolling her eyes.

Steve met you next to the couch, offering an arm, which you took gladly. The team had been nothing but supportive after finding out about the pregnancy. They were all in agreement regarding your safety and protection. It was automatic at this point for them to watch over you, something that warmed your heart daily.

"How is Bucky?" you questioned.

"He misses being able to walk," Steve chuckled. "That's what he gets for fighting on a torn knee."

"It's been a week since surgery, right?"

He nodded. "And another week before he'll be able to get up and walk on it."

You hummed sympathetically. It was what all of you hated the most- feeling useless, being unable to be an Avenger. You had grown quite accustomed to the feeling.

Your friend, reached out with his other hand to open the door for you, following you inside the intelligence room, curious what the report would say too.

You studied the screen and briefly leafed through some papers, stopping at another odd message printed. Your brow furrowed.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

"It's a date. Today," you answered, looking up to read his expression.

You'd seen the confusion and slight nervousness in his face before glass shattered in the not-so-far distance. Steve looked at you, panicked.

"We need to get you to the bunker."

"We don't even know what's-"

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted. Shouting then could be heard, growing closer in a split second. "Now."

You moved as quickly as you could, exiting only after Steve cleared the hallway. The two of you moved with expertise, albeit a bit slower than normal, towards the stairs. He helped you down the stairs, hurrying you along without rushing you. When you turned down the hallway that held the bunker, several beings masked in dark leather suits and glowing face shields awaited you.

"Stay back," Steve commanded, not even waiting for a response before running toward them at full speed. He pulled a knife from his pocket and set to work. You felt utterly useless, powerless, as you watched them swarm him. A few tried to sneak past to you, but he wouldn't let them come even close. You stood, anxious, barely breathing. Two swift hits to the stomach and knees had Steve knocked on the ground, stumbling for his footing. On instinct, you stepped forward, hands out in front of you.

You had no thoughts as you summoned the familiar tingle of your powers, forgetting completely that they may not even work for you. When coolness flowed through your fingertips, you only then realized you hadn't been able to do that for a while, and you probably shouldn't be doing it now.

But it didn't matter, there were enemies at hand, and you were an Avenger.

So you let a wave hit the men with everything you had. It was nowhere what you had attempted to do, but it worked nonetheless. It gave Steve the opportunity he needed to jump up and take them out quickly.

He took the remaining problems out with ease and then ran back to you.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, you?"

"You shouldn't have used your powers," he said aloud, more a fact and realization at what you had done rather than a scolding.

"I know."

"Bunker," he stated, gently pushing you towards the door. "Stay inside until you get the 'all clear."

You nodded, finding the hidden keypad and locking yourself inside.

++++++

When Steve returned back up to the party, he found several similar bodies strewn about and a few slightly out of breath Avengers.

"Y/N?" Natasha demanded.

"In the bunker, safe and unharmed."

She nodded, a thanks to her good friend.

"Anybody know what the hell is going on?" Clint asked, setting his bow and arrow down.

"Just today's date written down in a message, we just saw it in the report but couldn't piece anything together," Steve answered.

Natasha heard that and knew there was nothing to answer for now, so she started towards the hallway.

"Nat, she used her powers."

Your wife turned on her heel at that, whipping in the soldier's direction faster than lightning.

"Call Cho," was all she said.

++++++

"Natasha is entering," JARVIS announced, causing you to sit upright, eyes glued to the door.

"Oh, thank god," your wife muttered, seeing you sitting unscathed. "Are you alright?" She rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you, eyes scanning your form, hand coming to rest against your cheek after she found nothing.

"I'm fine. Are you?" You turned to plant a kiss to her palm.

"Fine. You used your powers."

"Well, somewhat. They didn't work exactly right," you responded, frowning.

"What happened?"

You told her how you had saved Steve, well only by giving him a slight edge.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked gently, picking up on your rather displeased tone.

"I feel useless," you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes as you shifted your gaze downward. Gentle fingers tugged your chin upwards until you were forced to meet those familiar emerald eyes.

"You are growing two human beings. That is not useless. I know you aren't avenging right now, but you did just save Steve, even if your powers were limited. Just because you can't do what you normally used to doesn't mean you aren't doing other things that aren't just as amazing, baby."

The corners of your lips twitched upwards, your mood already lifting.

"That's my girl. Now let's go upstairs, Cho is going to check you out."

"Natasha, I'm-"

"I don't care if you're fine," she tutted. "I'm not taking any chances."

With that, she kissed you softly and helped you upright.

++++++

BONUS

"And you know what she said?" Steve asked, a hand placed over his heart as he sat next to Bucky in bed. "You look like home." He sighed softly, as he thought of his two friends who were so beyond perfect for one another.

"How is that supposed to make my knee better?"

[callmelittlebuttercup]

Man Up - One Shot

Pairing: Jackson!Joel x f!Reader

Summary: After hearing from his brother, maria, and Ellie that Joel likes you, you confront him and tell him that he needs to “man up”.

Warnings: Fluff!! Menacing!Joel, use of problematic language, Joel and reader are emotionally stunted, rom-com type flirtiness, Joel is "happy" and all of the Ellie stuff never happened and they're living happily ever after because I said so! :))))))

BEFORE YOU READ: I do not condone telling ANYONE of any gender to “man up” because I know it is a hurtful and dehumanizing term. However, in this context, both the reader and Joel are extremely emotionally stunted and the reader is only using the term to get a rise out of Joel (which is still toxic, but is anything with Joel Miller ever going to be non-toxic? Let’s be real with ourselves LOL.) With that being said, keep in mind this is fiction, it is being said “for the plot”, and I do not condone the use of this language towards anyone else. I love you guys and enjoy!  

~~~~~~

“He’s into you. You really can’t see it?” Maria asked as she watched you finish washing your hands in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison. “I don’t know, Maria. It’s been so long since someone’s been ‘into me’ or I’ve been ‘into someone’... It’s also just so confusing. Plus it’s fucking Joel Miller. The guy hates everyone.” You lamented. “Everyone but you!” Ellie chimed in as she opened the door to her stall and joined you at the sink. “See?” Maria said, gesturing towards Ellie, “Even the person who’s known him the longest says so.” You rolled your eyes.  “Well, she’s not even supposed to be here. It’s a bar and she’s 16 years old.” You pointed out. The three of you laughed as you took Ellie into a playful headlock. “But she’s cute so I made an exception.” Maria chuckled. You and Ellie broke away from each other, smiling. “For fear of embarrassment, I’ve been trying to let him make the first move.” You said, leaning against the sink. “Maybe he’s doing the same.” Maria suggested. “Guess we’ll never know.” You sighed dramatically and moved to exit the bathroom. The two of them followed behind you. “What is there to lose?” Ellie questioned. “My patrol partner, my… friend?” You answered smartly. “But the world has already ended, girl, I think that’s enough of a reason to say fuck it and just ask him out. I had to make the first move with Tommy.” Maria paused and then continued, “The Millers are all rough and tumble, until it comes to feelings, then they run away with their tail between their legs.” Ellie laughed, “That’s for sure.” Soon enough, you guys neared the table that you three and the two brothers had taken for yourselves, you whispered under your breath, “Well, he needs to man up.” 

Joel locked eyes with you as you approached and quickly slid over in the booth to make room for you. You clocked this and filed it in the “evidence that Joel likes me” file in your brain, and proceeded to sit down next to him. The four of you drank and talked while Ellie played pool with Dina. Every so often you’d hear a playful argument break out between the two and you’d catch sight of Joel’s smile. He was happy Ellie had a friend, and so were you. 

After you downed the last of your drink, you sat up from your slump in the booth and grabbed your coat. “Well, I think I’m gonna turn in. Gotta be up tomorrow for patrol.” You said as you stood at the end of the table awkwardly. “Do you want us to walk you home?” Tommy asked, gesturing to him and Maria. “Joel will, right Joel?” Ellie asked with a mischievous glint in her eye. Joel cleared his throat and shot Ellie a look, “Who will take your sorry ass home then?” He asked. “We will,” Maria chimed in, “I don’t mind doin’ a switch off.” This time you shot her a look. You were tipsy and on the brink of getting a headache and the last thing you wanted to do was force a conversation with a brick wall named Joel Miller. Though much to your surprise, he stood up and began to shepherd you out of the bar. “See you guys later!” You called back to the group. “Get home safe!” Maria called. “Don’t do anythin’ I wouldn’t do!” Tommy called. You caught sight of Ellie making kissy faces at you and you promptly stuck your tongue out at her. Joel caught sight of you and said, “Don’t make faces at my kid.” You saw the half smile on his face and chuckled. “Your kid’s making faces at me.” You said drunkenly. 

Joel pushed the door open and you practically stumbled out into the chilling winter air. The sun had set long ago, leaving only the thousands of stars to contrast against the pitch black sky. You hadn’t realized that you’d stopped to stare until Joel broke your focus, “You comin’ or what?” He asked impatiently. “Yeah,” you said groggily, “Sorry.” You hurried to catch up and matched his stride. “God… I’m drunk.” You sighed, mostly to yourself. “I know.” Joel mumbled. “Y’know I can walk myself home.” You said defensively. “You just said it yourself, you’re drunk. Not safe.” He argued. “Yeah well at least if I was by myself there’d be better conversation.” You joked. “Ah, so you’re a belligerent, mumbling drunk.” He said, keeping his proud gaze on the streets ahead. “At least I’m the same exact person but just a little more talkative when I’m drunk like you.” You argued. “Shut up.” He chuffed, a small smile crinkled his eyes. You nudged your shoulder into his arm, sending him a few steps to the side, “You shut up.” 

He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face disappeared when you arrived at the steps of your house. He followed you up and waited patiently as you fumbled in your pockets for your keys. “Want coffee or anythin’?” You asked. He thought for a moment, then nodded, “Sure. Could use some for the walk home.” Once you practically busted the door open, the two of you walked to your kitchen and Joel perched himself on a stool at the counter as he watched you sloppily make a pot of coffee. “I’m glad Ellie met Dina. She seems real happy since hanging out with her.” You said, attempting to break through the awkward silence. Joel nodded, “She’s a good friend. They compete a lot in school which helps with her uh… performance or whatever.” You nodded and handed him the steaming mug. 

After the two of you sipped your coffees and talked about practically nothing in small spurts between silence, Joel placed his mug in the sink and picked his coat up off of the chair before sliding it over his shoulders. You watched as he made his way to the door, and  you nodded in agreement when he said “I should head home. I’ll see you in the mornin’ for patrols.” But something burned inside you. Something you could only guess was impatience. You decided that now, the time where you had some liquid courage warming your stomach and caffeine pumping through your veins, would be as good a time as any to get an answer out of Joel. 

“When are you gonna man up?” You blurted just before Joel could place his hand on the doorknob. He whirled around angrily. “Excuse me?” He sneered. There was no going back now, so you crossed your arms over your chest and repeated yourself, slower this time. “When are you going to man up?” He stared at you in disbelief for a moment and you watched as his eyes studied you, waiting for you to take back your words. “Man up?” He scoffed. “Yeah.” You confirmed anxiously. Your heart jumped to your throat as he began to walk back towards you  slowly. “Man up… and what?” He asked as he backed you against the wall, causing you to nearly lose your footing. You looked above your head at the veins pulsing in his forearm which was now planted against the wall. His face was inches from yours and you could smell the whiskey you’d shared on his breath. You gulped, “And- and admit you like me.” Your stomach dropped when he let out a dead eyed laugh. “Like you? What- is this middle school? We whisperin’ about crushes now?” He mocked. Embarrassment filled your chest and all you wanted to do was push him away, run up stairs and wrap yourself in the covers of your bed. “Fuck,” you said under your breath, “just forget it. Fuck.” You pressed your hands against his chest and tried to push him off, but he wasn’t budging. “‘Course I like you.” he finally said and pressed your arms down in an attempt to get you to stop pushing him away. You locked eyes with him again, “What?” You blurted. You were confused from being pushed in so many directions that you didn’t know what to think at this point. “I ain’t the best with words… but I’ve been tryin’ to show you.” He whispered. 

His soft stare was healing every wound that had been inflicted by his sharp one earlier.  Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned down to press his lips to yours. A feeling of tv static coursed through your veins. From the top of your neck, down through your fingertips and toes. Adrenaline caused your hands to start shaking, but Joel grabbed them and pushed them around his neck before he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing further into the kiss. When he pulled away, your foreheads pressed together. “That man enough for you?” He asked, a small smirk twisting the corner of his lips upward. You smiled lightly and played with a tuft of hair at the base of his skull before tugging it lightly. “Congratulations, Mr. Miller. You’ve officially grown a pair.” You teased before pulling him into you for an even deeper kiss. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: Hiiii! I hope you enjoyed this little rom-com-esque vibe. As always, thank you for reading and please comment below to be on the tag-list or with any requests! <3

Taglist: @ashleyfilm @pastelpinkflowerlife @orcasoul

[sturniololuvz]

Can you make a story on how the triplets little sister is super insecure about her weight and she’s always trying to turn down food and constantly on a scale. But then she faints in front of the triplets from not eating food, and she finally tells them the truth? Also I loveee your story’s!🫶🏼

okayyyy tw: this study will have the things the anon asked for.

“Heavy on My Mind”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings : Ed, passing out, think that’s it.

Y/N had always been good at hiding things. She smiled in their videos, laughed at their jokes, and made sure her brothers never worried about her. But lately, it had become harder to keep up the act.

The number on the scale dictated her mood every morning. If it was lower, she felt a little lighter—both physically and mentally. If it wasn’t, she spent the day consumed by guilt. She started skipping meals, pushing food around her plate, and making excuses.

“Not hungry.”

“I ate earlier.”

“My stomach hurts.”

Chris, Matt, and Nick never pried too much. They trusted her. But trust didn’t stop the dizzy spells, the headaches, or the exhaustion that followed her everywhere.

Today, it finally caught up to her.

They were filming in the living room, arguing over something stupid for the vlog. Y/N was standing next to Chris, laughing along even though her vision was starting to blur. She blinked a few times, trying to focus, but the world was tilting—spinning—until suddenly, everything went black.

“Y/N?—Yo! What the—”

Chris barely caught her before she hit the floor.

“Holy shit—Nick, help!” Matt’s voice was frantic.

Nick was already there, kneeling beside them. “She just collapsed—what the hell?”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, her body feeling weak and disconnected. She could hear their panicked voices, see their worried faces hovering above her.

“Y/N, what the fuck? Are you okay?” Chris’s voice was unsteady.

“I—” She swallowed hard, her throat dry. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Matt said, shaking his head. “What’s going on? Why’d you pass out?”

She hesitated, but there was no point in lying anymore. Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered, “I haven’t really been eating…”

Silence. The kind that felt suffocating.

“What?” Nick’s voice was barely above a whisper, his expression a mix of shock and concern.

Chris’s grip on her tightened. “Y/N… why?”

Her breath hitched. “I just… I don’t like how I look. I feel like I need to lose weight. So I’ve been trying to eat less, but I didn’t think—” She broke off, unable to finish.

Matt ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched. “Dude, are you serious? You think starving yourself is the answer?”

Nick exhaled sharply, his eyes glistening. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want you guys to worry,” she admitted.

Chris shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “Of course we’re gonna worry, Y/N. We love you. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

Matt pulled her into a hug, and she felt his arms tighten around her like he was afraid to let go. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this alone,” he murmured.

Nick reached for her hand, squeezing it. “You’re literally perfect the way you are. I don’t know where this is coming from, but I swear—if you could see yourself the way we see you, you’d never think this way.”

Chris, still kneeling beside her, rubbed his hands over his face, trying to process everything. “You’ve been skipping meals? Not eating at all?”

Y/N sniffled and nodded. “I just… every time I eat, I feel guilty. Like I don’t deserve it.”

Chris’s face twisted with heartbreak and frustration. “That’s not true. That’s never been true. Your body needs food. You need food.” His voice softened, but his eyes were pleading. “Please, Y/N. Don’t do this to yourself.”

She let out a shaky breath, guilt settling deep in her chest. “I didn’t think it was that bad,” she admitted. “But I—I feel awful all the time. And I guess I didn’t realize how much it was affecting me until now.”

Nick sighed, shaking his head. “That’s because your body is literally begging you to take care of it. You deserve to eat, Y/N. No matter what.”

Chris wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his voice gentle but firm. “We’re gonna help you, okay? Whatever it takes. We’ll figure this out together.”

Y/N blinked back more tears as she looked at her brothers—her family, the people who loved her no matter what. Maybe she wasn’t alone in this after all.

She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Matt let out a relieved breath. “First step? You’re eating something. Right now.”

Nick stood up, already heading toward the kitchen. “I’m making you food, and you’re not arguing.”

Chris smiled softly, nudging her. “And after that, we talk about how we make sure this never happens again.”

Y/N swallowed hard, but for the first time in a long time, the idea of eating didn’t feel like failure. It felt like a step forward.

Maybe, just maybe, she could start seeing herself the way they saw her.

[arcane-ish]

Season 1 Vanco, Season 2 Vanco and why I love both

There are people who will insist that shipping season 1 Vanco and season 2 Vanco is almost two different things. I don’t fully agree.

I wrote my “why I’m drawn to them” post in season 1 and even back then, for me at least the allure with the idea of the “one big happy family”. Of it being so close you could taste it. Of it being the ultimate what if. Of all the things that could be fixed if Zaundads were just real (in season 1: mostly the conflict between Jinx and Vi).

So yes, season 2 came as a shock of just how aligned the writers ended up being with the way I saw the ship even in season 1. And even in some ways I wouldn’t have dared to hope.

Still, I do understand the point that s1 Zaundads is a subtly different ship almost as s2 Zaundads. I’m just lucky enough to like both.

Season 1 Zaundads…

Season 1 Zaundads was broody and mysterious. Full of violence, veiled references and open questions. “I’ve heard this kind of talk before”, “There are worse things than enforcers out there”, “you had my respect”, “brothers and sisters, back to back against whatever the world threw at us”.

But also of evocative parallels. If in my ways Vi is Vander’s and Jinx is Silco’s, if they are like their fathers and yearn to be together, is it that strange to imagine a this being mirrored by Vander and Silco when you try to imagine their relationship? When Silco as he tries to ward off Vi is the one who draws the comparison to him and Vander over and over again, while Jinx questions how honest he really is in this regard?

And then there’s Silco and the heartbreaking parallels. The show starts with Vander changing his life to pick up his future daughters. And it ends with Silco ending up in a very similar spot, willing to value Jinx over attaining Zaun and losing his life over it. What can I do but question whether this falling out between them was really necessary if in the end maybe they end up in such a similar situation, which Silco himself seems to realize when he seeks out Vander’s statue.

And ah, the poignancy, that he seeks out the Vander statue at all to talk to it when he is so close to his moment of triumph.

Season 2 Zaundads…

When Season 1 Zaundads drove us crazy with speculation what happened between them, what they were like in the before timed, what exactly happened to make Vander turn on Silco, sesaon 2 answers some of those questions. And yeah, some of those answers were underwhelming, not gonna lie.

But! To me there’s still beauty in season 2. Season 2 on a Zaundad front is so much about yearning. About Vander’s yearning especially. It’s there in his letter. It’s there in how Silco is still in Warwick’s mind as he scours the mines half crazed.

It’s there in the little love shack and the jackets. It’s there in Jinx, the person who probably knew Silco best in the recent years says the letter would have mattered, it would have changed so much. It’s there in Silco, a sweet, loving Silco memory being the first thing that shows up when Viktor manages to enter Vander’s soul.

And there are other things, worth loving, the way Silco looks even in Vander’s dark red visions of him, the way the tease in the flashback to their younger selves, the way Silco is scribbling away and then of course … the AU.

The AU that has the writers coming out firmly on the side of “a reunion would have been possible” but also “a reunion is close to the best thing that could have happened to the world”.

This element might not be necessary to make a good ship, and it sure isn’t what I expected to get when I shipped them in season 1. But I think a shipper group or two can confirm that it feels pretty damn awesome to look at your ship and think: “their love changed the world and it made it better” (and you know, not just just in the sense that they are the ones that made it worse in the first place :p)

A personal take

People talk a lot about how Silco and Vander could have made up and how they achieved the Zaun we see in season 2, episode 7. Did Silco come around to Vander’s side of seeing things, or the other way around. I don’t have a problem with either approach.

But my personal preference has always been towards balance, of both parts of a couple being developed and important and worth cheerleading.

So for my personal tastes, I like to think it needs both of them. They are better together than apart. Their approaches are flawed are incomplete without the other. Silco’s approach is shit highly questionable (as in: I question whether the society he would achieve would be a very appealing one and not full of its own problems) if it doesn’t have some of Vander’s conciliatory and communal elements and Vander’s approach is shit without Silco’s zeal and focus.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTERVIEWED BY HOLLYWOOD REPORTER MAGAZINE.

WHAT WAS YOUR REACTION TO READING THIS GRUESOME TURN OF EVENTS WHEN YOU FIRST LEARNED ABOUT IT?

"I knew it was coming."

"When it was coming, I wasn’t aware."

"But my immediate reaction was about how it came together by our amazing writers with this sort of amazing, theatrical, rousing, terrifying, unpredictable craftsmanship that I was very happy to be on the receiving end of."

FIRST LOOKING BACK ON EPISODE FOUR, WHILE IT SEEMED PRETTY OBVIOUS TO THE VIEWER, I'M WONDERING WHAT DO YOU THINK WAS GOING THROUGH AEGON'S MIND WHEN HE GOT ON SUNFYRE AND WENT CHARGING INTO THE BATTLE?

"He’d been a bit backed into a corner by all the things that have accumulated over time with being king, where his worst fears and insecurities were coming into plain sight and becoming true."

"He felt weak, and he was seen as weak, and kind of useless — with what Alicent (Olivia Cooke) had said to him (“Do nothing”) in his chamber, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back."

And he was just resigned: “I don’t have any option, I’ve got to prove myself in some way.”

"But you know, being the way he is, and not being an actual warrior with that sort of fearless courage that other people have, he had to numb himself and so he got blind drunk and jumped on a dragon."

HOW DO YOU THINK HE FELT ABOUT AEMOND'S BETRAYAL? IT SEEMED LIKE IT WAS CLEAR? I DID WONDER IF AEGON WAS TRULY SURPRISED...

"I think the moment of recognition was the fact that the fireball was coming at it."

"I don’t think he had time to think that he’s done this on purpose."

"If those thoughts are to come off, they will probably come later."

"As a viewer, I’m still unsure."

"I want people to make up their own minds."

THERE'S AN ARGUMENT TO BE MADE THAT SINCE THE BATTLE, AS DISASTROUS AS IT WAS, WAS EVENTUALLY WON, THAT HE SAVED THE DAY? AEGON THE HERO? OR NO.

"You’ve got to take them where you can get them."

"Yeah, he’s a hero."

WHAT'S THE PROSTHETIC PROCESS LIKE FOR YOU MOVING FORWARD?

"Long."

"Very detailed."

"I got to know my amazing hair and makeup team very well."

"I also got to know myself very well."

HOW DO YOU MEAN?

"The amount of time I was spending in that chair with those people in my own thoughts…. But yeah, [the prosthetics] really influences and informs my performance."

"It sort of instructs me how to move now."

"How you breathe, how you speak changes."

"I have a piece inside my mouth that I asked for to sort of distort my speech."

"So all this is great because it makes me feel like we’ve made a shift."

"Aegon has to have changed after this."

"We’re going to find a difference in him and and allow that to continue and [impact] his decisions and have a new approach to life."

YOU'VE MENTIONED CHANGING HOW HE MOVES. IN A PREVIOUS INTERVIEW YOU MENTIONED HOW AEGON USED TO MOVE DIFFERENTLY THAN YOU DO. WHAT WAS THAT DIFFERENCE?

"He’s a little bit more hunched."

"He is a bit narrower."

"I feel it’s a bit weak and more weaselly."

IS IT WEIRDLY MORE FUN TO PLAY HIM AS NOW? BECAUSE THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH MORE THEATRICAL, IN A WAY.

"Yeah! It feels like we’ve transitioned from Richard II to Richard III, if that makes any sense to you."

"Almost like a level up — though on paper, obviously, it’s a level down."

"I think what he loses physically he gains emotionally and mentally."

"I’m trying to see it like that."

THERE'S OBVIOUSLY A PARALLEL THERE TO HOW VISERYS WAS AT THE END, INFIRM AND GHOULISH. DID THAT INFORM YOUR PROCESS AT ALL?

"I mean, it’s just fraught with danger, isn’t it?"

"Having a crown on your head."

"Something nasty is going to happen to you at some point."

"Isn’t it being not having my crown on yet?"

"There’s definitely a Viserys comparison, especially toward his final days and in bed."

"No quality of life whatsoever."

"It was only weeks, months before his dad was in that same position and in that same bed."

LET'S SAY HIS FATE WASN'T LITERALLY WRITTEN. WHAT, IDEALLY, WOULD YOU WANT FOR YOUR AEGON'S FATE?

"I want it to be, in an ideal world, for there to be an opportunity to prove himself and make decisions that he has made — not somebody else who thinks they know better."

"To carve out his own path as king."

"And then just see if he fucks it up as much as people think he might."

"I’d like to give him the space and the time to work it out."

"It’s a dangerous request because they could go horribly wrong."

"I think people underestimate him."

I FOUND IT INTERESTING THAT NOT ONE PERSON SAT BY HIS BEDSIDE OR HELD HIS HAND OR TRIED TO COMFORT HIM IN ANY WAY — AT LEAST NOT IN THIS EPISODE. SEEMS PRETTY HARSH.

"It’s desperately, desperately sad."

"Aegon is a boy in a man’s body and all he’s ever wanted is to be shown love and made to feel seen or not judged."

"All these things that he’s done in the past that have given him a reputation, I believe he’s felt that any attention is good attention."

"Unfortunately, he’s made a name for himself now — people kind of want to keep their distance and they see him as a poisoned chalice."

"At the end of the day, he’s a product of his history."

"He hasn’t had the emotional intelligence to be able to deal with that in a healthy way and move forward from it."

"Back then, therapy wasn’t really a thing, was it?"

"He’s been left to his own devices."

[taelonsamada]

I practically went into a fugue state when writing this 🤣 it is fully unedited, all but vomited up, but @dawnofiight got this into my head and I had to get it onto paper as soon as I could 🤣 (paper being figurative in this case) I’m sorry if it feels a bit rushed or out of character, I just had to get it out!! So have livestreamer/blogger Sam on his homestead he lovingly tends with horror gamer Darlin 😁

~~~~~~~~~

“I’m particularly excited about this one, we just finished renovating the chicken coop, so now—Ah! George! Knock it off! Hey!”

Sam did a quick side step to dodge the goat head that had snaked out at his ankles, stopping in his tracks to point a warning finger at the brown and white beast that barely came past his knees. The two of them locked in a standoff with Sam’s work boots as the prize for the victor. Never mind that they were still on Sam’s damned feet, or that the entire thing was being captured by the phone currently in Sam’s hand, which was of course being livestreamed to the twenty thousand followers he’d managed to amass the last couple months.

Because that was absolutely Sam’s luck.

The stare down lasted a moment longer before ‘George’ decided the boots weren’t quite worth what the glint in Sam’s eyes meant, plodding off to likely find something else to chew on. Sam shook his head with a heavy sigh and a crooked grin, raking his fingers through his hair before resuming his walk. “I swear, I’d have made that bastard into a stew ages ago if he didn’t give his some of the best damned babies I’ve ever seen in my life. Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, this is the chicken coop we just finished redoing.”

Flipping the livestream to the front camera, Sam began panning the phone across the large chicken run he and Darlin’ had just finished yesterday, pride heavy in his voice. “It’s got twice the floorspace now, so they got a proper run they can explore while still havin’ a roof over their head, which’ll keep ‘em safe from the hawks and eagles. And we got this thick wood along the base to keep the coyotes from gettin’ too nosy as well. Still gotta watch for ‘em cause they’re tricky bastards, but at least we’re making their job harder on em.”

The phone turned a bit more, revealing Darlin’ crouched down inside the actual coop itself, cooing at some freshly hatched chicks as they changed out their feed and water. Their head popped up to smile and wave at Sam, who immediately waved back, a fond, warm look in his eyes. His chest aching with happiness at seeing how well they’d taken to the ‘homesteading’ life.

Knowing how drastic a change it was from the city life they were used to, the fact that they seemed to be thriving in the countryside with him only had him even more convinced he must have done something damned impressive in a previous life to be rewarded like this.

Of course, one could also argue he was equally punished for whatever he did whenever they asked him to join him on on of those horror games they would play on their own stream. Darlin’s fans loved it when he showed up, mainly because of all the cursing and yelling he’d let out during said games. He wasn’t sure what it was; horror movies were a delight for him, but there was just something about the games that had him sweating up a storm. His own subscribers also loved it when he joined in, though it was moreso to see a different side of him, since he was usually more reserved on his own channel.

That thought had him glancing to his phone to check on his livesteam, and he cursed as he saw his thumb had hit the camera flip button at some point while he was staring at Darlin’. The entire chat was losing its mind over the look he’d had on his face while he was watching Darlin’. Countless messages about being ‘moony-eyed’, ‘starstruck’, ‘down bad’ and ‘the ultimate simp’.

Instantly his face took on his usual stern, furrowed huff, shaking his head with a dramatic sigh. “Y’all are bigger fuckin’ animals than the ones I feed, I swear. Keep that up and I won’t show you Moonpie,” he warned, referring to the newly born calf that the chat demanded daily updates on. He smirked crookedly at seeing all the panicked gif reactions, pleas for forgiveness and accusations of being a bully. “Mm… lucky for y’all, Moonpie is a huge diva and loves the attention, so—Dammit, George!”

The camera swung wildly, dropping to show an angled view of the brown and white goat with his teeth locked around the tongue of Sam’s boot, tugging and yanking in an attempt to tear a hunk of the expensive leather free. “I swear, I’m cookin’ you tonight!”

[mychoombatheroomba]

Proximity Alert

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 11

And into the minefield you go. Little do you know, Leon is fool enough to follow you.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Flustered or not, Leon was, as you came to find out, a damn good shot. 

He would have had to have been, you supposed, to survive what he’d survived. Still, you found yourself very much impressed as the two of you spent your hour unloading magazine after magazine into the targets down range. You didn’t mind losing to him. 

Not when three points was all it took for him to smile the way he did. 

“If you can shoot like that now, just think of how good you’d be if you cut that hair so you could see,” you’d said, and you weren’t sure where the energy you had was coming from. 

Maybe you said it for the same reason you'd called him pretty; it was true, yes, but you also wanted to get a rise out of him. 

And a rise you got. “You must not hate my hair too much, if you think I’m pretty.” 

Oh, he was getting better at countering your jabs. Knives and words. And just like when he managed to get a successful counter in while sparring, you watched his eyes go a little wide as he realized what he’d just said. 

You were both flying by the seat of your pants, then. 

“I won’t matter how pretty you are if someone can throw you around by your fringe,” you said, ignoring the way it felt like you were walking over the edge of a cliff. Ignoring the way your mouth curled without you meaning it to. “And if I remember right, I’ve done it before.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to be extra careful, then.” His own smile returned, and it lingered until the two of you said your goodbyes. 

That smile made some stupid, sentimental part of you ache because it made him look young - young and proud and excited that he’d done well. For a moment, he looked like Raccoon City never happened. Like the two of you weren’t training to fight what spawned from mankind’s darkest ideas. For a moment, as Leon beamed at you, you could almost imagine that things were normal. Or, as normal as they ever had been for you. 

You felt that way more and more when you were around Leon - strange, because if anyone should remind you of what waited for you out there in the real world, it should have been him. Instead, you found yourself smiling more when you were around him than you had in the last year. The smiling wasn’t the dangerous part, though. 

Ever more, you were ignoring the warning bells in your mind in favor of holding his gaze for a second longer than you should have. Letting yourself study the strength of his jawline, the way the boyish fullness of his cheeks was sharpening into something harder. Or the way his arms were being cut by more and more defining lines. You let yourself say things you shouldn’t have because getting those little rises out of him made you feel . . . 

It made you feel something other than the misery you’d been wallowing in for so long. 

Something you almost felt you didn’t deserve. 

That had been the silent war your thoughts had been waging, because it was stupid to get close. It was completely and utterly reckless. 

And you thought of that smile as you went to bed that night, anyway, because it felt good to imagine something other than the snow and cold, and the dead eyes that waited for you in your dreams. Thinking of the warmth of his hand on top of yours, his smart mouth, or the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears would redden when he was embarrassed felt like you’d found a place to rest your weary bones. Maybe you could afford a moment of weakness, every so often. 

Thoughts were harmless without action to give them life. A gun with the safety on. You could think whatever you wanted. 

So long as it stayed safe in your mind, where it belonged. 

⧫⧫⧫

Pretty boy. 

It really shouldn’t have taken up such a big space in his head, but Leon found himself thinking of those words as he lay in bed that night. It didn’t stop the nightmares, but it was a far better thing to remember when morning came than rotting flesh, or heavy footfalls at his back. 

Or the feeling of someone’s hand slipping through his fingers. 

He would much rather think of you and whether you were being serious or not. 

That was the question he tried to puzzle out that day, well aware that he was putting too much thought into a single moment. A joke. Had to have been. 

Still, he sure as hell wanted more, whatever it was.  

So, when evening came and he met you in the training yard, he did so with a mission he had no notion of how to carry out. You were already there, as always, the sunset casting you in honey gold. You tossed him a knife. “As promised,” you said as Leon caught it. 

“So, what do I get if I win this time?” he asked, flipping the blade back and forth, just as you so often did. It was becoming more and more natural to him, now. 

Still, if it was natural for him, it was second nature for you. 

“I wouldn’t worry about something that’s not going to happen,” you shrugged, a glint in your eyes. You’d always seemed sure of yourself, but with the passing of the last few weeks, he’d come to see a different side of that confidence. One that wasn’t afraid to dish out a bit of trash talk. An Army brat, through and through. Leon didn’t mind it, so long as he could give as good as he got. 

He rushed forward, knife aimed at your chest. You moved just as fast as Leon knew you could, bringing your hand up to smack the blade away. A few weeks ago, you would have blocked him, but Leon had gotten faster since you began teaching him. 

More than that, he’d gotten wise to a few tricks. 

He tried not to be too proud that he was nearly fast enough to pull the feint off. Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, after all. Still, as he changed his weapon’s course at the last minute and felt the blade catch your shirt, if not your skin. You felt it too, he could see it on your face as you leapt backwards to safety. “Don’t be so sure,” he breathed, locking eyes with you. “I learned from the best.” Flattery had worked the night before. Maybe-

“I’ll tell Krauser you said so.” 

“Not what I-”

“I know what you meant,” you nodded, eyes softening almost imperceptibly. “Now, come on.” 

You were all business when the knives were in play. He knew that. Still, it had been worth a try. Besides, he didn’t think he would ever get tired of watching you fight. Even if he was the one on the business end of your knife. 

You were a viper. When you reared up to strike, one couldn’t help but watch, wide-eyed as adrenaline filled them. Fear and bewilderment in equal measure. And when you moved, god help anyone within reach. You were too fast for him several times that night, as you always were. Too fast and too dangerously beautiful-

Focus. 

The difference lately was that Leon was beginning to move the same way. Those patterns that he’d been watching for from you, he’d finally begun to learn. You favored protecting your torso over your legs. You liked feints. Wrist locks and knocking him off his feet. Controlling his arm. All favorites that he learned to watch out for. It let him stay “alive” longer and longer. All secrets that helped him avoid a disarm, or a takedown. He was learning more than how to fight, he was learning you. For every disarm or takedown, he gave you a scrape or a bruise. You were showing him how to bridge the gap between the two of you. 

That was why he thought he had you when you bent his arm up after a jab at his side, the strain of it edging just short of real pain. 

Your hands were both occupied. His left wasn’t. 

He kicked towards your leg, and you shifted a bit to avoid it. 

His wrist being free was just enough mobility for him to toss the knife up. His left hand caught it, and again he just nearly missed the swipe he took at your head. You ducked under the swing in a blur of motion, and he followed through. You caught the attack, and again your hands were moving to control. Just as he knew you would. 

Shoulder protesting a bit at the speed with which he moved, Leon wove his arm under your own. You blocked the first strike. Just barely the second. 

Your bodies were pressed together, your hands just barely stopping him from checkmate. With steel just an inch from your throat, your lips parted as you looked up at him, first in surprise and then in struggle. Victory was there, within reach. So close Leon could reach out and grab it. Get drunk off of it. 

Drunk off of the idea of winning and drunk off the way you felt against him. 

Then he felt something else. The weaving of fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Gentle for only a millisecond. The sort of sensation that made it feel like someone had hooked him to a high-voltage battery. That gentleness died before it even drew its first breath as he remembered the warning you’d given him the day before. 

⧫⧫⧫

You’d done it to win, and maybe to prove a point. What you could never have predicted was that bragging rights were absolutely nothing next to the real prize. That being the sound that Leon Kennedy made that evening in the training yard when you pulled his head back by his hair. 

You’d heard his pained groans a hundred times now. This one, though . . . it was different. Throaty and strained, and downright sinful. No human being had a right to make that noise. Not in a situation like this. 

If that was the sound he made when he was in pain . . .

What were you doing?

Both of you froze as soon as you realized what had happened, staring at each other from a distance that seemed too far and too close all at once. His eyes were dark, even with how wide they were. His breathing shallow. His body tense. His lips parted. His throat was exposed, the knife in his hand still pressed against it. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thick. 

It was then that you realized just how far into that minefield you’d wandered.

And the way he was looking at you, those shadowed blue eyes searching your own, only made it worse. 

What the fuck were you doing?

“Told you about the hair,” you said, not of your own volition. Something cruel had a hold of you. Cruel and wild and full of a fire that burned you from the inside out. A year’s worth of pushing want down in favor of need was all threatening to split you open, now. 

You were stronger than your impulses, though. Or more cowardly than you’d like to admit. 

Whatever the case, you let go of Leon’s hair and stepped away because you knew if you didn’t, it would mean the beginning of something you couldn’t allow into reality. You just hoped that you had bailed out early enough, because as you moved away from him, that tension in the air remained. 

“You okay?” you asked after a moment of silence, because you genuinely didn’t know what else to say. 

“Yeah,” Leon nodded, and even if he was lying, you weren’t going to call him on it. Not right now. “Yeah. Just . . . point taken about the hair.” 

“Hmm,” you nodded back. 

Another beat of oppressive stillness, and you could only do your best to tread water through it. That, and try not to linger on the way Leon’s lips had looked only seconds ago. It was just a moment, and it passed. The safety was still on. 

“So, are you going to cut it?” you finally asked, pointing to his hair. 

Leon had looked lost up until that moment. Even as you spoke, it took him a second to register what you’d said. He looked at you for the first time since you’d let him go - just a glance, but one that let you know that you’d kicked up a storm in his mind. He breathed a single dry laugh and shook his head. “Not a chance.” 

⧫⧫⧫

He couldn’t sleep. And not entirely for the usual reasons. 

No, that night, Leon was kept awake by the memory of your hand in his hair and the sharp pain of you pulling on it. That, and the warmth of you being so close to him. The way your eyes had been so bright with an emotion he’d never seen in you before, one that burned low and true like embers. 

He replayed the moment in his mind, out of embarrassment, true, but also to chase the phantom of what he’d felt. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of you in the dark - his thoughts had drifted to you more and more lately. That night, though, he wasn’t just thinking about you. He was imagining you. He imagined what you might feel like in his arms, what the skin beneath your shirt might feel like against his fingertips. 

He imagined what it might be like to feel the kiss of your lips instead of your steel. 

And as he imagined, he fought back the guilt that wrapped its cold hands around his throat. Who the guilt was owed to . . . that was becoming a more difficult thing to know.

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A/N: This chapter brought to you by the sounds Leon makes when he's injured. Also shot myself in the foot putting a Leon pic in every chapter . . . gonna need more than 40 of these mfs 😂

[peachhcs]

i feel like she’s got to realize at the end of the day she got two national titles with the school and three great seasons that’s so much she got there that she should take the offer because it’s her future and if she turns it down she may never get another offer

the side plot has begun 🤗 and my cliff hangers have returned

au masterlist

“wow..this is amazing, sweetie. we’re so proud of you,” ellen rushed out after reading the lengthy letter from the head coach. jim reread it more closely after looking at it from over his wife’s shoulder. samy embraced her mom, the excitement not as prominent on her features.

“this is so big for you. wow, i have no words,” the older woman laughed as she looked at the letter again, but she finally caught her daughter’s somewhat solemn expression.

“you don’t seem as excited?” ellen pointed out.

“no, no, i am. i am. i just..i guess i’m still processing it all. they’ve been looking at me since my freshman year and they want me right away..” the girl trailed off a bit. she couldn’t believe a program like theirs had eyes on her since she was 18 and now they wanted her. of all people they wanted her on their team right away.

but at what cost? if samy signed on, she’d lose her last year at mich. what about all the friends she’s made? hannah? the two had plans for a house already next year. her teammates? she couldn’t just abandon those girls she’s spent so much time with? they needed her for her last year.

“are you thinking about not taking the offer?” jim approached the subject and samy flushed, burying her face into her hands.

“i don’t know. my mind’s been all over the place,” the younger girl admitted. she thought driving home to talk to her parents would help lead her in the right direction, but samy still felt incredibly lost.

“what would make you not wanna take it?” ellen wondered, her hand rubbing her daughter’s shoulder.

“everything i’ve built at mich. my senior year of college? hannah? the team? my last collegiate season with the program i basically helped build? there’s a lot,” samy rambled off and her parents exchanged a glance.

“and what would you lose if you didn’t take this offer?”

“maybe my only chance to go pro at a sport i love and have devoted my life to since i was like 12,” the brunette laughed a bit sadly.

“honey, we want you to make the best choice for yourself. this is such an amazing accomplishment right here. there’s people who see your talent and the skill you possess. remember when we were having a similar conversation about if you wanted to stick to hockey or take on soccer full time? back then, there wasn’t a pro league for women’s hockey yet and you knew soccer would bring you a lot more opportunity in the future. this is one of those moments, babe. a full offer right in front of you,” ellen said gently and samy sighed. she eyed the invitation again and everything in her mind was pulling her in two different directions.

“have you told your brothers yet? will?” jim asked and the girl shook her head.

“i haven’t told anyone except you guys.”

“maybe you should call them. they might have some insightful advice or a different perspective we aren’t saying,” her dad offered and samy knew he had a point.

her brothers always had something good to say, but she also knew they would tell her to take the opportunity. she knew will would tell her to because then they’d be closer if she moved out to california.

“yeah, i probably should,” samy nodded and her parents squeezed her shoulders.

“we’re gonna be proud of you no matter what you decide, okay? don’t think you’ll disappoint us if you decide to stay or go,” ellen whispered before sending her upstairs to have some space.

the brunette wandered back into her room, collapsing on her bed to just breathe for a second. she found her phone and trailed to the sibling group chat—a wash of deja vu hitting her back when she was calling her brothers to help her decide what college to go to. it was all so familiar being home in her childhood bedroom with no one but her parents downstairs.

luke joined the call first and then jack’s face appeared a second later in the same frame, “what’s up pop?” jack grinned.

“hi moose, hi rowdy,” samy smiled seeing them. luke readjusted his phone so she could see both of them on the couch together.

quinn connected a second later in his own apartment. he waved, “what’s up crew?”

“hey q-tip,” jack snickered at the nickname making quinn roll his eyes.

“i thought we talked about not calling me that,” the older boy said.

“we did, but i’m still calling you it,” the middle hughes snickered.

“i miss you guys. i wish you were here,” samy smiled sadly.

“uh oh, whenever baby hughes gets sappy, it means something’s wrong. what’s wrong?” jack immediately said and the girl flushed at how well he knew her.

“nothing bad..i just..” she trailed off and eyed the letter now on her desk, “i got an offer to play pro out in california,” she finally got out.

the three boys’ eyes widened in disbelief.

“no fucking way. holy shit, samy! that’s awesome!” luke quickly exclaimed.

“what team?” quinn asked.

“bay fc. apparently head coach montoya has been watching me since my freshman year and he wants me on,” the girl explained briefly which only heightened her brother’s excitement.

“holy shit, pop. that’s amazing. i always knew you had it in you,” jack grinned.

“but he wants me on right away which means i forfeit my last year at mich to move out to san francisco,” samy explained the downside.

“ah, the catch. there’s always a catch,” luke tsked.

“i mean that’s basically what moose and i did. we played at mich for two years before going pro. it sucks it has to be your last year but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” quinn rambled a bit and the girl nodded. she bit at her lip and luke quickly caught onto her expression.

“are you considering not taking it?” he voiced his thought out loud.

“you have to, sam. bay fc is a wicked good team. they’re like top eight right now. if the head coach has been watching you since freshman year that has to mean something,” jack quickly cut in.

“i know, i know, i guess it’s just a lot to process right now. i mean how do i leave a program i helped build and bring two national titles home to? hannah? my teammates? my last year at mich in general. that’s not something i can just easily walk away from. it may be easy for you to say, jack because you never went to college,” the last part was a harsh dig and samy knew that.

“okay, okay, you’re right, pop. walking away from a team like that isn’t easy,” quinn stepped in before an argument escalated.

“sorry, i didn’t mean it like that,” she quickly backtracked. her emotions were definitely getting the better of her right now.

“i get it, it’s not easy. you know everyone would want you to take it though, right? that team, your coach, hannah, they’d all want you to take that in a heartbeat after everything you’ve done for the school and the program,” jack came a little softer.

“does will know?” quinn wondered and the brunette shook her head.

“i haven’t mentioned anything. i drove home after getting the letter to tell mom and dad. you guys are the only people besides them who know right now.”

“well, he’s gonna be ecstatic that you’ll be so close by,” luke grinned and the girl flushed.

“but don’t make a decision just because you’ll be close to your boyfriend,” quinn said and the girl rolled her eyes a bit.

“and when have i ever done that?” she said, but the older boy shrugged.

“just reminding you.”

“what do you think i should do?” samy asked her brothers honestly.

“you know we can’t answer that for you, pop. it’s your choice. your life. your dream,” jack said and the girl nodded.

“but if you were me, what would you do?”

“i’d remember the really great three years i’ve had with my teammates and friends and let that carry me into the next chapter in my life. the legacy you’ve left there isn’t gonna be one anyone forgets, samy,” luke hummed.

the younger girl sighed knowing she had a lot to think about in the next three weeks. it should’ve been such an easy decision for her, but the idea of leaving behind everything she’s ever known in a place that’s built her family wasn’t as easy thinking about.

[kingcrow01]

DC x Marvel Fic Recs 2, Electric Boogaloo

Welcome back to another DC x Marvel fic rec list! It’s been about a year since I made the first one, and I thought it would be appropriate(and festive!) to share people's work again, and also as a sort of year recap of what I’ve read. The first one was over 1 and a half years of reading, and covers most of the fics that are still influencing how people write DC and Marvel crossovers today. 

Specifically, if you take only one thing away from it, it’s that reading Dark Matter can give you context for why writers make certain choices when writing their Peter Parker in DC fics. There are some, many even, where Peter has green eyes and a white streak in his hair by default, and it is never explained. DM has had such a huge influence on an entire crossover fandom, and I think because of that it’s worth a read, if not just for the context it’ll give for other works.

On a smaller side note, I’ve always wanted to say that the lack of synopses on the last few recs of my first list wasn’t because I thought they didn’t deserve as much attention, but because I was up late at night making it, and decided at some point that I was very tired and wanted to be done with it. And then I just never added them, and here we are a year later.

Like last time, let's start with some Peter Parker fics:

Nothing Left to Lose by @seek--rest

Set after No Way Home, Dick Grayson finds himself in a New York he doesn’t recognize, and being helped by a hero he’s never heard of. A hopeful story about legacy, choices, and trying your best even if it’s not enough.

Don't Let Go (but loosen your death grip) by @missquestion

Where DC and Marvel are the same world, Peter only has a mind for death after he and half the universe get snapped back into existence. This one feels like the start of a larger universe.

Friendly Interdimensional Neighborhood Spider-Man by @mysterycyclone

A super simple and not at all gutting fic about (Insomniac) Spider-Man helping Nightwing win a fight. That’s all.

What’s in the name by @medieval-hippie

A very cute crack fic about Bruce becoming Peter’s guardian, and Peter being unable to be anything but a little shit about it.

The Wrong Side of the Coin by Anonymous

Working for Gotham’s DA Harvey Dent is one of the stranger job experiences Peter’s had… The fic hasn’t gotten to that yet, but the writing style has absolutely captivated me. Reminds me of your style, @songue85! It feels like the beginning of an adventure.

The Unsteady Retirement of One Mr Peter Benjamin Parker by aestorian

Beaten down by the hero life, 22 year old Peter retires to a civilian life of selling coffee. Arbitrary dimensional travel and Gotham vigilantes trailing him like ducklings be damned.

Ship Oriented Fics:

no map to my own treasure by @blackkatmagic

A short fic where Batman meets Moon Knight for the first time and is slightly smitten. I think this is a great introduction to them, and could be your starting place to read Kat’s long moonbat fic, in labyrinths of reflections, which I recced in the first list. I absolutely adore labyrinths, and if you couldn’t tell, I’m really trying to get you to read it.

Winter Quarters by @teeelsie-posts

Clint Barton and Dick Grayson, growing up in the circus together. Full of love and loss and hope, this is another story that’s very dear to my heart.

The Dawn Will Break Before You by @thepartyresponsible

When trying to steal the tires off his car, Jason instead finds himself eating pancakes with the car's owner Tony Stark, and being offered a job as his security. 

a fresh jar full of Skippy by brandywine421

A fun fic where Matt Murdock and Bruce Wayne plane-crash on a deserted island. Low stakes, lots of snarky banter.

And all the rest!

There are lots more Matt Murdock DC crossovers I would be reccing here, but they're already collected in this post.

Spider vs Bat vs Bird by @medieval-hippie

SHIELD sends Natasha Romanov to a gala to ascertain if Bruce Wayne is Batman. Instead, she has a fun evening with an energetic Jason Todd.

Infinite Reflections of a Two Way Mirror by @tiptapricot

At a party being held to celebrate Grant Industries expanding into Gotham City, Steven Grant finds a pleasant conversationalist in Harvey Dent.

like the tiny campfires we lit at night (—back at the beginning of the world.) by llamallamaduck

Teenaged Tony Stark runs away from home and starts making a living for himself in Gotham. When he meets a younger boy named Jason Todd, his attempts to help him are slow going, but Tony is stubborn. This is another one that is very special to me.

early next mornin’ (‘bout a half past nine) by @safelycapricious

Karen Page is kidnapped by the Joker, who wants to reenact one of his greatest jokes. Karen Page, who carries a gun in her purse.

but trust me to take you home by @daisyapples

After a chance meeting, Winter Soldier Bucky and a young Jason Todd swiftly imprint on each other; their journey to stay father and son is both heartbreaking, and heartwarming.

Interview with the CEO by @somesortofitalianroast

Lois Lane interviewing Pepper Potts. Written in a journalistic first person style that I don’t think I’ve seen before in fanfiction– I’m still quite charmed by this one.

The Robin and the Panther by @mysterycyclone

After Robin War, Duke Thomas continues to protect his City from the rooftops. When he meets a girl who needs to get back to her dimension, it’s just another day in the life. A bittersweet little story with the prevalent theme of grief.

suppose the body did this to us, (—made us afraid of love—) by llamallamaduck

Frank Castle moves to Gotham and meets Batman’s second Robin.

And that's it for 2024! For some final words, remember that fandom is a community, so when you like someone's thing, you should tell them that. A simple "This is lovely!" can go a long ways!

[wayfayrr]

If requests are still open, how about Wild and Tears comparing weapons? (Or really anything that gives you an excuse to highlight how they're similar and how they're different)

My brain has only worked out one little snippet, but I feel like it could be expanded upon? Idk??? This is what I've got so far:

Comparing Lynel weapons -- BotW's Lynel weapons (ooooh, I could see Tears geeking out over the craftmanship of Savage Lynel Sword, Crusher, and/or Spears) vs Totk Lynel horn weapons (I can see Wild absolutely losing his mind (/pos) over the existence of Silver Lynel Reapers and/or Maces. Probably begs & pleads for 200 of them lmao)

Little drabble suggestions like this are gonna be open for a while I think, they're really fun to write and I've got a pretty good flow for tears at the minute!!!

Also your ideas so far? In love/srs naming him lilac is honestly so big-brained and is such a perfect little nickname for him and I've already started using it, the weapons too - there is so so much potential, it feels like I've barely scratched it here (this is also set after they've talked out their issues about how they view their memories, after that gets cleared up they're literally twins your honour!!)

also @h4wari got some more of your boy here for you<333

“What are you holding, I don’t think I’ve seen something like that in my Hyrule.”

“I mean, seeing as you don’t have fuse that isn’t a surprise.”

“Huh?”

“I made it, that’s why you haven’t seen it around.”

Is that what I look like whenever I get excited over something? I’ll have to ask [name] to take a photo of me next time, I could make them something nice in return. Actually, I could probably take them on a quick tour of my- you’re getting distracted thinking about them Link.

“You made it, what from? How long will it last if I’m using it, how much damage does it do, where did you find the materials?” “It’s a silver lynel reaper, I fused one of its horns to a royal broadsword; it should last a good while.”

“Lynels drop their horns in your hyrule? Mine only ever drop their weapons…”

“Oh? I don’t think I’ve seen them drop weapons, well besides bows.”

Our Hyrules are far more different than I thought, maybe they would have been identical during my first quest, if I hadn’t rushed it then I’d be able to know for certain. If I had done it the same way he did… could everything with zelda have been avoided? She was so desperate to get me to remember her when I didn’t want to that she went into the underground and then, no, no point thinking about hypotheticals like that. What’s done is done. 

“Would you like to swap?”

“Swap?”

“I’ll give you one of my lynels weapons and get that in return?”

That might have to be one of the most generous trades I’ve ever heard, neither of us can carry many weapons but I have enough horns to give everyone here one without batting an eye. I would be a fool to turn it down though. Giving one to the smith might be interesting actually, it would be interesting to see what he can do with it.

“Sure, before you’re set on this one though… you want to see the things I’ve made from shards of dragon horns?”

“YOU’VE MADE WEAPONS FROM DRAGON HORNS???”

[zionanelequaso]

I’ve already decided I’m yapping. batman x bill cipher lore BEAM!!!!

warnings: yaoi, gravity falls spoilers, angst, yaoi, yaoi, did i mention yaoi, tbob spoilers(???)

okay. so. all the shit in gravity falls IS canon, but after stan punched bill into oblivion, bill met the axolotl and they made a deal. if bill somehow redeemed himself to the point of at least only being a little prankster, the axolotl would send him back to earth. so, the axolotl sent him to the theraprism, where 1 second in our world is 100 years there (this comes in handy for me). I still haven’t decided how many seconds in our world he was in there.

eventually he managed to redeem himself to the point of just being a mischievous being. so, the axolotl decided to send him somewhere that wasn’t gravity falls so he could have time to choose if he wanted to say sorry or not (keep this in mind). also bill got his powers back because the axolotl was feeling nice. bill got sent to gotham, and was just floating around before he met Batman. Immediately, he was quite enamored! having long moved on from ford (somehow.), he decided to start watching batman like a hawk. and follow him everywhere. and I mean everywhere. from the start, he knew Batman was bruce, yes, but he didn’t let him know that until the second time they crossed paths. yes, the second. so then, when batman was like “wait what” he went “ok so now you know I know who you are I’m gonna follow you like everywhere mk??” and for some reason, bruce (i switch between calling him either batman or bruce it just depends on how I feel okay) could find himself taking a slight “liking” to bill as well.

spoiler alert, they do get freaky on multiple occasions I’m just not writing about that stuff because I’m a minrorooririijhehjdjshdjia. leave that to your imagination FREAKS!!! (the only reason I’ve even included this fact is because I’m hypersexual!!! I won’t talk about them actually being freaks I’ll just include suggestive stuff leave me alone!!! [sorry I feel the need to apologize and explain myself a lot ok])

okay so there are multiple different ways this can go, but I mostly include 2 (with an occasional secret 3rd and 4th option)

option 1 which is actually the secret third option: since I haven’t watched or read anything with genuinely serious robins + I love love love silly robin with all my heart and soul, there’s this one, where robin (based off of Lego robin) has to just watch bill go BAZINGA over batman and be very confused.

option 2 which is actually the secret 4th option: everything basically stays the same, except ford somehow also got sent to gotham by the axolotl (with intent of having bill and ford meet up or something to see how bill reacts.) depending on how you’d feel, they can either meet pre-batman and get their yaoi back, or stanford can meet joker, have yaoi with that guy, meet bill and go “fuck off,” or they can just never meet and at some point stanford gets super close to redeeming joker. this part is a big joke my friend from school made that I expanded on but I think it’s super funny

option 3: everything stays the same, it’s just bill, batman, and the rogues.

option 4: bill comes in contact with the Justice league and somehow becomes a part of them. not explicitly, but yk he’s just there. this is probably my favorite

so, however this goes, there will always be a thing where bill gets sent back to gravity falls WITH batman (and others, depending on which interpretation you’re talking about [UNLESS you’re talking about the thing where stanford and bill DO cross paths]), and dipper gets the whole fam out, stanford tells batman everything, and bill just LOSES IT.

everything he’s worked for, just gone down the drain.

so, he can either become evil again and have to get ANOTHER redemption arc (but this time without the axolotl), or he can have a breakdown on the spot and beg for forgiveness.

if you choose the first option, he will get forgiven by his peers, but the pines family will still be wary. also, he’ll get the fuck out of gravity falls as soon as he can

if you choose the second option, bruce can either forgive him or not forgive him, which then evolves into either the 1st option or even more of a breakdown until either the 1st option or batman forgives him. that make sense??

and that’s basically it! here’s some stuff about bill

1. he actually did care about stanford or something in the past, he just felt like he had to purposefully hurt him so it wouldn’t have to be on accident (like his family)

2. he finally learned how to not feel the need to push people away!! yay!!!

3. he would get married to bruce. this is canon I’m bill’s 3rd eyelash

I wonder how alex hirsch would feel if he knew that someone out there shipped bill cipher x batman. that someone is me.

also jfc that was a lot more than I was expecting but it was super fun to write!!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲 uh huh so helenas totally been hypnotizing them right

Mayyyybeeeeeee

135 or 1k - whichever I hit first:

---

“No,” Buck shakes his head. “No, there are good stories of Huldra. Kind ones. It can’t all be this, okay? We’re going to figure out how you can control it. Shift back.”

“You’re deflecting again,” Eddie says. 

“You’re deflecting,” Buck accuses.

“So we both are!” Eddie admits. 

Buck laughs a little. “I promise I’m okay, alright? Mostly just scared for you.”

Eddie can’t even be mad about that. He’d be scared for Buck, too, if their positions were reversed. 

 “Yeah. That makes sense.”

“But, like I said, I think this is manageable,” Buck continues. “I think you can get your life back, Eddie.”

Well, no. Eddie doesn’t think so. Christopher doesn’t want Eddie in his life; Eddie’s life is over.

iii. 

The next day, Buck’s hearing aids are ready for pick up. Sooner than he would have thought. Which is great news. Great that they’re ready and he can start adjusting to them. Great that conversation and other things will hopefully be easier. 

Not great, though, because he does have a fear. One fairly reasonable fear.

Tommy had said Eddie sounded like a song. But at no point has Buck heard that. What if, with the hearing aids, he can? What if whatever happened to Tommy happens to Buck? Now, he doesn’t think there’s a universe where he tries to force Eddie to do anything. He doesn’t think there’s any magic out there stronger than his dedication to keeping Eddie safe. But… Still. He doesn’t want to be any sort of risk to him. He doesn’t want to upset him. And he certainly doesn’t want Eddie to learn how attracted he is to him. That’s just not a good look when it comes to your struggling straight friend. 

Anyway, Buck is afraid of hearing the song Tommy talked about. To be honest, he wants to know what it sounds like. There’s a fairly significant temptation there. But, that’s also a disastrous idea. So no. He’s afraid of it happening. 

There’s three scenarios, as far as Buck is concerned. From his research on hearing aids, they help with hearing decibels, not frequencies. There are some things he won’t ever be able to hear again, probably. Some things that he will. If the song is simply quiet, Buck will be able to hear it when he comes back with hearing aids. If it’s a high frequency? Like some sort of dog whistle? He’s in the clear. Unless, it’s all actually just a magically targeted sound, and Buck could hear it any time it’s directed at him. But given that Eddie can’t control it and it happened to Tommy, while Eddie is straight, it doesn’t seem likely. So Buck is banking on the frequency thing. 

He tells Eddie as much, before he leaves. 

“I don’t want you to be worried when I come back,” he says. 

“I’m not,” Eddie says. “I trust you.”

Buck takes a deep breath. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I know.”

“You feeling okay about me leaving?” Buck asks. 

Eddie explained how being alone had made him feel physically ill. A feeling Buck does know. But not because it was magically infused in him or whatever. Just because he lacked coping skills. 

“Not really,” Eddie admits. “But I’ve got to figure it out, right? I think avoiding it will make it harder.”

Buck nods. “It won’t be long. Don’t open the door to anyone.”

“I won’t,” Eddie promises. “I’ll just wait and… Try not to lose my mind.”

“Like a puppy with separation anxiety,” Buck pats his shoulder.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I thought we settled on you being the whippet?”

“Hmm, well. Only one of us has a tail.”

When Buck leaves, he reminds himself that this really is a good thing. The best thing for him. The thing he needs. He can let go of his anxieties about Eddie for a couple of hours. 

🌲

It’s not as bad this time. 

Not to be mistaken, it still sucks. It sucks from the moment Buck shuts the door behind him until Eddie hears his Jeep pull into the driveway. But it’s better. 

His body still feels the brunt of it, but his mind is clearer. He knows what he’s going through. This isn’t him. This is whatever he is now. Whatever he unwillingly has become. It’s not a weakness of character, but a consequence of circumstance. Eddie can overcome it. He can stay strong. 

He lets his brain operate on loop. 

This isn’t real pain or illness. You won’t be alone long. Your brain can still be a human brain. 

And it works. It works so well, Eddie keeps a handle on himself. He’s still Eddie. Not some desperate, cloying thing. 

Then Buck comes home, and the relief is tangible across every cell of his body. 

🍂

The first hour or so of having the hearing aids actually kind of sucks. His ears feel weird, unaccustomed to the sensation. Everything is loud. Louder than it’s been in a long time. His head is already starting to ache. He feels overly sensitive. A siren passes him on the drive home and he’s tempted to rip them out. 

“It can take a few weeks to adjust,” Dr. Isaacs had told him. And Buck really needs to adjust. So he won’t rip them out like an overstimulated child. But he’s tempted. 

He’s honestly relieved when he pulls into Eddie’s driveway. So relieved to be back in a quiet, still space, that he almost forgets about the rest of it. The Huldra of it all. 

He walks right through the front door without even considering what might be waiting for him on the other side. He’d texted Eddie and Eddie replied normally. So he’d assumed he was okay. And when he shuts the door behind him now, there’s no song. Nothing. So either Eddie isn’t, like, transmitting it, or Buck can’t hear the frequency. Good. Whatever. That’s totally a good thing. 

“Hey, Eddie!” Buck calls out, then winces at the volume of his own voice. Is he always this loud?

[brokenwolfspirit]

Onyx Storm spoilers…..

My thoughts are all over the place and out of order. I’m just trying to process the emotional rollercoaster I was on, reading this series…..

First off I’ve never cried so hard for Imogen in my life. It’s as if the narration of her screams manifested off the page and into my mind as I read about her agony of losing Quinn. That wasn’t fair. She deserved to live through this life time with her best friend. Also Mira almost dying was not cool. Violet doesn’t need to lose more family. I love how she was willing to basically risk Brennan’s life for Mira. Brennan was on the brink of burn out until Sloan showed up.

Second, when Violet lost Andarna a piece of me died. How could they take away her baby????? That depression Violet experienced, I definitely experienced it too. My heart ached in unmeasurable ways, it never had before. But the way Xaden so tenderly took care of her was beautiful. As if I couldn’t love that man anymore, despite what he has become.

Third, I feel so bad for Sgaeyl. Having to choose between staying loyal to Xaden while going against the Empyrean essentially has to be exhausting. I know she would never leave Xaden. Even in the end, she chose to stick by him. Those gut wrenching words from her “What is there left of you to forsake?” Again more tears…..

Fourth, Andarna is back? What did she do? Leave the Irids? She just found them. What is she doing on the battlefield away from her new found family? I’m glad she showed up and the bond was still intact essentially, but how???? Like I need answers I know I won’t get! And in this point in the book a glimmer of hope made me optimistic, then they went and hit me with Violet going unconscious???? And Xaden channeling again??!?! From the earth?!!? At this point I’ve accepted the fate that we are going to lose both Xaden and Violet. AND THEN…………………………

Fifth, what the fuck was that ending? What did Violet ask Imogen to do?? Is Xaden okay?? He just up and married Violet and then what left to fuck shit up with the Venin??? Did he marry Violet to ensure the future of Tyrrendor? I NEED TO KNOW. I also don’t have a good feeling about Brennan. I feel like I can’t trust him. After all Violet’s father did say only trust Mira…

———My Theories before I read the end—————-

I was full on ready to accept that Xaden and Violet would channel from the earth and live out their lives as Venin, and just fall off the earth, hiding from family and Venin. but that didn’t happen. I also thought that while Xaden was on “ice” that Violet would somehow show up and save him from himself, but nope.

—————My theory of what is going to happen——-

I think this realty Violet is experiencing after the last battle is an allusion that someone put together to show Violet, because she could not be saved from burnout. They are easing her pain while she is slowly dying. Or maybe the end of the book is her walking in the dream of another person who is also dying, as they reflect on a better outcome than the one given.

OR Brennan is really the bad guy here. He purposefully fed intel to the Venin so they could come for Violet, knowing Xaden would do anything to save her, even turn full fledge Venin. Xaden is gone and Brennan convinced everyone to act happy that they are saved and that Violet’s marriage happened when it didn’t. It’s all fake. Brennan maybe made Xaden promise he would never be with Violet again in exchange for peace. He then needed something to cover his tracks so he states that Xaden stole the eggs from the hatching ground, with the help of Imogen.

I don’t even know, this is just my brain trying to cope with the fact that there isn’t another book available for me to read in the series after Onyx Storm just yet… I guess I’ll finally read A Court of Thorns and Roses…

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,162 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10/S11, The Reapers Warnings: language, mentions of injury A/N: This is part of a series! You can find the rest on my Master List, the pinned post on my blog.

Summary: Injured and scattered, the group tries to find each other.

Your name: submit What is this?

Daryl,

Our son is two years old today. You wouldn’t believe how much he’s changed in only the last few months. It used to be that you could only make out baby babble with a few words here and there, and now he’s stringing together full sentences, expressing his own original thoughts. He looks less like a toddler every day and more and more like a little kid, soon to be asking questions about the world that will be harder and harder for me to answer. He reminds me of you in so many ways and I hold onto this part of you extra tight. When I think of how much you’ve missed of his little life, of all the milestones we’ve already passed, every part of me aches, and to know he’s missed out on having you too... that hurts even worse. I know you would be the most amazing dad. You love as fiercely as anyone could.

When I think of you at all, it nearly stops me to a grinding halt, could bring me to my knees, the pain is still that sharp. If we never find each other again, I think I’ll walk around forever with this poignant sense of something profound missing. It’s hard to write this, but if it wasn’t for DJ, I may have given up by now… But if I know anything, it’s that you’re out there somewhere, still alive, still surviving, still protecting the people you love. I know that beyond any doubt, because that’s who you are. I just hope that in our continued wandering that we find some sign of you. I don’t know what it would be—but Jen keeps telling me not to give up hope, to trust that my intuition is right.

I’m not having that dream anymore—the one I wrote about before where you’re calling for me from the other side of the glass—but lately I’ve been having a new one. I find you again, out in the woods, wandering, and then the next moment you’ve vanished. It’s almost worse than the last dream, because I think I have you and then a moment later I lose you all over again. It feels so unbelievably real. I wake up completely gutted with my cheeks wet. I have to reach for DJ every time.

God, I miss you.

It’s hitting me hard today, on DJ’s birthday. I hope you’re safe wherever you are…

With love, Y/N Daryl was mentally running through the parts of your book he’d already read, and wishing he’d made the time to read more, but he was also thanking himself for not bringing it along. He was certain The Reapers had gone through his pack. He didn’t know what would have happened if Leah had found it… She’d know he’d found you again and then all of this—his pretended disconnection from “those people on the road” and the implied feelings he was manufacturing for her—it wouldn’t have been available for him to try to keep his family and Alexandria safe.

His hand strayed to the left breast of his vest and he could feel the stiffness of the picture in the lining. It was comforting. He hadn’t slept. He was too afraid to. His mind was too busy. He laid on his back on a cot, far off in a corner, and waited.

It had to be near first light when he heard bootsteps coming up the hallway outside. He turned his ear toward the sound, listening intently for anything else that could signal what was happening.

Carver showed up in the doorway. “Get up, dickhead,” he spat. “We’re moving on that info.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

A hand on your shoulder shook you awake and you startled at the sudden jolt.

“Easy.” Negan’s voice. His hazel eyes were looking right into yours beneath his raised eyebrows. The point of your blade was at his throat.

You let out the breath you’d been holding and lowered it.

Negan was in front of you, palms out. He relaxed as your knife left his neck. “I’m a little worried that reflex isn’t going to stop short one of these times,” he said.

You shifted so you could better sit up against the back of the dingy armchair. “Then stop surprising me,” you said. You winced as you moved and couldn’t help drawing in a sharp hiss of breath between your teeth. Your side, the knife wound from The Reapers, felt like it was on fire. “Fuck…” you murmured, shifting to attempt to relieve the worst of the pain to little success.

Negan’s brow furrowed. “How ya feelin’?” You thought you could hear genuine concern in his voice.

You shook your head. “Not at my best, but I’ve had worse,” you said.

He went on frowning at you. He swept a hand back over his short hair. “I don’t doubt it but, uhh, no offense… you look like shit. I don’t think the whole pale, graying skin thing suits you at all. I woke you up because I was starting to get a little paranoid that you might not wake up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Stop being so dramatic,” you scolded him.

Negan gave you a small tight smile despite the situation. “Can’t. Drama. Theater… It’s kind of my thing,” he retorted. He watched as you pulled your shirt up to look at the wound on your side. The surrounding area and the wound itself were an angry shade of red.

Negan saw it. “Well, fuck. That doesn’t look good.”

You closed your eyes for a moment and leaned back against the chair. You’d flushed the stab wound out as best you could and applied ointment but it didn’t seem to have been enough. “No shit,” you said. “Any other earth-shattering observations you want to hit me with?”

Negan let out a dry laugh and straightened up, grabbing his crowbar from where it was leaning against a dusty couch and swinging it absently. “You know, I am actually trying to help you here. You see anybody else around?”

You sighed. “Right. Right… Sorry. Just—this whole situation is—”

“Complete and utter-fucked, five ways ‘til Friday bullshit?” Negan finished for you.

You gave him a long look but eventually nodded. “Yeah.” You pulled your shirt up again and looked at the neatly stitched wound. Negan had helped you with that the night before, and you had to hand it to him that he’d done a good job. “It’s a local infection or the start of one,” you said softly. You paused to think. You had limited medical supplies left and had used the last of the antibacterial ointment the night before patching up your side and Negan’s leg.

“Alright, so, can we kick its ass before it becomes un-local? From what I hear, that’s something to avoid, what with the lack of hospitals and meds these days.”

You chewed anxiously on your bottom lip. The burning and pulse you could feel in your whole side made it hard to think. “Hopefully…”

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression darkening like a cloud passing across the face of the moon. “You have a fever?” he asked, and you heard some apprehension in his voice.

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.” You mopped at the cold sweat on your brow even as you answered, but you were pretty sure that was just from the pain.

Negan cleared his throat and stepped closer hesitantly. “Can I check without you slitting my throat?” he asked. “I’ve actually already had that done, courtesy of Rick, and it isn’t something I’d like to repeat.”

“Fine.”

He bent his tall frame and put the back of his hand on your forehead. He shook his head and let out a hugely relieved sigh. “No. No, I think you’re good.” You gave him a questioning look. “I had the thought that maybe they’d coated their blades… so that anyone that didn’t die right away would go full-blown undead asshole.”

You fixed a steely stare on him. “Oh, you mean like you did. To the Hilltop.”

Negan gulped and his face fell. His eyes turned down to the floor. “Maggie told you about that, huh?” he said softly.

“Mhm…”

“Yeah. That was pretty fucked up.” He was still avoiding your eyes. “But it was effective...”

“Negan—” you started angrily.

“Hey, I’m just stating a fact! And to be fair, it was a fucking war! I was looking after my own the same way—” he broke off abruptly at the look on your face.

You shook your head. “No. Not the same way I do. Not the same way they were. Not even close.”

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve never done anything royally fucked up to keep yourself or people you care about alive? Hmm? Doll,” he said, swinging his crowbar up onto his shoulder, a smirk on his face, “I ain’t buyin’ it.”

You scowled at him. “Don’t call me ‘doll.’ In fact, let’s just table any more nicknames you’ve got floating around in your head. And let’s get one thing straight, Negan. You didn’t care about those people at The Sanctuary. You gave them barely enough to stay alive and it wasn’t even a life. The only person you actually gave a shit about was yourself. And have I done fucked up shit? Yeah. Plenty. To keep me and my son alive… not to set myself up as some sort of wannabe god to assuage my bloated ego,” you spat at him, wincing and putting a hand over your side again and shutting your eyes.

There was a tense pause and then Negan rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and another small laugh escaped him. “I can’t really argue with most of that. You’re right. And I see that Maggie and Daryl have been pretty thorough in catching you up already.” He sighed and sank back down on the wooden chair across the room from you. “But none of that shit matters right now. So, what do we do about your tidy little ticking time bomb there? You have any more of that—”

“No, we used almost everything up last night,” you interrupted him.

Negan laughed humorously. “Now let me make something clear here; you’ve gotta be okay,” he said emphatically. “If something happens to you while you’re with me, Daryl will fucking murder me. That is not an exaggeration. No, he won’t just murder me—he’d probably carve off little pieces slowly. He isn’t gonna hear that it wasn’t my fault. So, for your health and mine,” Negan said, fiddling with the crowbar across his knees, “we’ve got to figure this out. So, what do I need to do? You obviously can’t go anywhere fast at the moment, which is really what we need.”

Your ground your teeth together and Negan saw the muscle in your jaw tense. “You’re going to have to find me some moss and get us some water and fuel for a fire.” Negan stared at you blankly.

“Sorry, did you say fucking moss?”

You nodded. “Yeah. A specific kind. I’m gonna tell you where it grows and what it looks like.” You pulled your pack closer and dug around inside it until you pulled out a small cloth bag and held it out to him.

“Is now the right time for a scavenger hunt?” he asked, but he got up and accepted the bag from you.

“A lot of mosses have antimicrobial properties that should fight the infection and—look, just do what I’m fucking asking, okay? Or I can go myself. Like I said, I’ve had worse,” you started getting out of the chair, pushing yourself up on the arms but the pain in your side seemed to ricochet through the rest of your abdomen and chest and you quickly froze, only partially standing.

“Whoa!” Negan grabbed your upper arm and helped you lower back down into the seat. His leg didn’t feel great, but it was definitely better than your side. “I’ll get it! Fuck, just sit the fuck down,” he shook his head at you. “I can see why you and that pain in the ass Daryl are together. Stubborn with an attitude,” he said with some amusement. “Moss. Water. Fuel. I can handle that. Just tell me what I need to know…”

You did. And Negan set out and returned a couple hours later with all of it.

Soon you had a fire going in one corner near a broken-out window, any smoke trailing up and out—though you’d made sure all the fuel was dry as a bone so it wouldn’t lead The Reapers straight to you. The water had finished boiling and was sitting to cool a bit. Negan was watching you with interest from his seat again as you cleaned as much debris out of the moss as you could.

Negan was casually peeling the bark off a stick, sitting on the stiff wooden chair and watching you work. “Are you going to tell me what the deal is with you and Daryl or what?” he asked.

Your eyes flickered up to his face for a moment and you paused, completely still. Then you went back to what you were doing. “No,” you said simply.

“Ahh, come on. What the hell else are we gonna talk about? I’m dying to know how exactly he ended up having a kid he didn’t seem to know about. Especially one that looks to be about ten years old.”

You tossed the handful of debris you’d been picking out of the moss into the fire. “I’m sure you are. But you’re the last person I’m going to discuss my personal life with, Negan.”

Negan sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Come on. It’ll pass the time!”

You fixed your gaze on him for a long moment. “I’ll give you one question,” you said, dusting off your hands.

“Hot damn!” Negan grinned. “I better make it a good one… Hmm. Let’s see…” A smirk grew on his face. “So, are you guys fucking again? I mean what’s the current status?”

“Negan!” you barked back at him angrily, color flaring in your face. He only chuckled.

“It’s just a question! Anybody can see the guy is head over heels. That was obvious by the way he looked like he was mentally dismembering me anytime I came within ten feet of you.”

You only glared at him. “Do me and yourself a favor and shut the fuck up,” you growled. You collected the moss and plunged some of it into the still warm water and let it soak for a few seconds. Then you removed it and wrung most of the water out. Negan watched with interest as you packed it over the wound in your side and secured it around your body with a long makeshift bandage you’d fashioned from a spare flannel you’d had stowed in your pack.

“That’s gonna fight off infection?” Negan asked, interested. “Seems counter-intuitive to stick some dirty shit you found outside right over a wound.”

“It’s not dirty. And yes, hopefully. Long before we had modern medicine, plants were doing what doctors and pills used to,” you said, climbing to your feet and sinking back into the armchair again with a sigh.

“How the hell did you learn this?” Negan asked, digging in his pack for his MRE and tearing off the top.

You shrugged. “Aren’t we all picking up new things all the time? One of my people, from my last community, knew a lot about medicinal and edible plants. I paid attention.”

Negan nodded, scooping another bite into his mouth. “So, we gotta just wait now?”

You nodded. “Just have to let it do its job.” You sunk back more heavily into the chair and closed your eyes, but they were only shut a moment before Negan’s voice broke the silence again.

“You’re really not going to tell me about you and Daryl?”

Your eyes opened. “No. I’m not.”

He sighed. “What if I tell you about my wife?” he said softly.

Your brow furrowed. “Which one?” you asked sharply.

“The real one.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning, you woke up gently. Negan was already awake, standing at one of the dingy windows, staring thoughtfully outside. He turned when he heard you shifting. “You’re looking better,” Negan commented.

You stood and moved without pangs of pain and sighed with relief. Unbinding your bandage and peeling the poultice from the wound, you saw that the redness was gone and it was no longer inflamed. The moss had done its job. You applied fresh, dry moss over the stitches and rebound the bandage.

Negan wandered over, watching you closely. “You good?”

You looked up and nodded. “Yeah.” You paused. “Thanks. For your help yesterday with getting all that stuff.” He nodded once. You slung your pack up onto your shoulder. “Come on. We’ve gotta get to that house. Maybe the others are waiting there.”

“You can’t be serious,” Negan said, nearly stepping in your way as you moved toward the door. “You want to keep going? We don’t even know if anyone else made it.”

You started to unbarricade the door with a grunt of effort. “They did,” you said matter-of-factly.

Negan shook his head. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do!” you snapped at him, standing up straight. For the first time, Negan saw something like desperation in your eyes. “They made it,” you said firmly, but he heard the shake in your voice. “Now, help me move this…”

Negan looked at you for a long moment and then sighed and pushed the heavy oak desk out of the path of the door.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Maggie, Gabriel, and Elijah waited in silence. The air was heavy with anxiety and Maggie found herself alternately pacing the length of the room and then standing frozen at the window, peering out through the wooden slats. Through the narrow space, she saw figures moving on the street outside but it was difficult to see through the leaves of the shrubs close to the house. “I got movement comin’ up on this side.”

Elijah stood and went to another window near the front door. His knife was in his hand.

“Oh my God. Oh, thank God,” Maggie suddenly sighed. “It’s alright. It’s Negan and Y/N,” she said, happy tears in her eyes.

A moment later, Elijah pulled the door open and the two of you stepped into the dilapidated interior, Maggie rushed over and grabbed you in a hug. “Thank God you’re alright,” she said.

You tightened your free arm around her, bow in your hand at your other side. “You too. All of you,” you said, looking at Elijah and Gabriel as she broke away, but at the same moment your heart sank. “Daryl?” you asked, your brow furrowing and casting a shadow over your momentary relief at seeing the others.

Maggie shook her head. “We don’t know. We haven’t seen Daryl or Frost. Alden’s hurt bad. I left him someplace safe,” she said, her voice breaking. “Agatha. Duncan. They’re gone...”

You hung your head and closed your eyes for a long moment. “Fuck…” Your knuckles shone white as you gripped riser of your bow hard. “Goddammit… I’m so sorry.”

She nodded solemnly and then scrutinized you and Negan more closely. “How are you two?”

You moved farther into the house and stood beside the small stash of supplies. “We took a little damage but I think we’ll be fine. What’s the plan?” you asked, getting straight back to your purpose.

“We’ll wait a little longer for Daryl and Frost, in case they’re tryin’ to get here. But then we have to move. It’s not too far to Meridian from here.”

Negan let out a small scoff and paced away in a small circle, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

Maggie bristled. “Somethin’ you wanna say?”

“Maggie, look at us. We’re hurt. There are only four of us. One more encounter like the one we just had and that number is going to drop to zero.”

“People back home are dependin’ on us. Hungry kids. If we can’t make this work, Alexandria is done.”

Negan sighed and leaned back against the wall, but he stayed quiet.

“So, unless you’ve gotta somethin’ helpful to add, just keep your mouth shut for once in your life,” she snapped at him.

“Hey—” Elijah said suddenly. “Something’s up.” _ _ _ _ _ _

The heavy bootsteps overhead seemed to press on your ear drums as the Reapers moved through the house. Your heart was hammering in your throat. Then suddenly—Daryl’s voice. You clapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from gasping with relief. Alive. He was alive. He was okay. But then your stomach plummeted into the pit of your stomach. But why was he with them?

It didn’t take long for you to realize what was going on. A voice. A woman. “You’re either with us, or you’re not.” Leah. It had to be Leah. It was the only thing that made sense.

Your chest tightened and it was harder for you to draw in even shallow breaths. You closed your eyes, straining your hearing. Daryl again. “What do you want me to do?”

Then it was obvious; Daryl was dropping as much info as he could to you hiding below. 20 people. Weapons. Supplies. Walls. And then he was picking a fight on purpose with this “Carver” asshole.

“Shaw. Wake. Up. Everything is a test now,” Carver spat. “If you think this guy is ever going to give a shit about any of us, you’re gonna fail.”

“He’s right,” Daryl said quickly. “I don’t give a shit about any of you. Except you.” You felt a sharp pain between your lungs. “I’m here for you. It’s no secret I made mistakes. But I’m here right now.”

You were trying to suppress a rising wave of nausea. You could feel Maggie and Negan looking your way and you ducked your eyes, kept them down-turned to the cement of the cellar floor. A second later, Maggie touched you on the sleeve and tilted her head toward the cellar door. With Daryl distracting Leah and Carver, you snuck away, but the painful bubble in the middle of your chest stayed with you.

When you were finally safely away from the town the Reapers had been combing, Maggie stopped all of you. “We can stop for a minute,” she said, out of breath just like the rest of you from rushing through the woods. “We’re getting’ close. About three miles out.”

Negan let out a disbelieving laugh again, but you silenced him with a look. Maggie turned to you and touched you on the arm and spoke to you in a soft undertone. “You know Daryl was only sayin’ those things to—”

“I know,” you interrupted her, nodding, but your face was downturned. It still felt like a knife was lodged upward between your lungs. Listening in on that, Daryl saying those things to another woman, to her, had been excruciating. You hadn’t even realized how much so until you were out of the immediate danger. They seemed to ring in your head. “I’m here for you.” “I made mistakes.”

Maggie frowned softly. “Y/N, you and DJ are his whole life. I was there. I saw it. I saw how he was after. We almost lost him when he lost you. And then he never gave up on you. He never stopped searchin’. Whoever she is, she’s nothin’ to him compared to you. Believe that. Trust it.”

You gulped and nodded again and managed to give her a forced smile, though the worry line stayed between your brows. “What’s the plan for taking care of these assholes?”

You all turned as sticks cracked nearby. Walkers were wandering in. Everyone fingered their weapon but Maggie stopped you. “Wait,” she said, looking at more following behind out of the trees. She glanced back at the group of you. “Think we can find more?”