#i read a similar post somewhere like months ago

[deesi-academia]

I'm a very "jo hoga dekha jayega" person except when jo hota hai vo dekha nahi jata

[kriffingstars]

Johnny MacTavish; found out

pairing: Johnny MacTavish x Price!Reader summary: you and Johnny get rumbled. Uncle John is not a happy camper warnings: verrrrrry slight age gap (I imagine reader to be around 20, Johnny is 26), canon typical violence, swearing a/n: i wrote this running off of 4 hours sleep on an 8 hour flight, i can only apologise for any typos/sentences that don’t make sense. i did try and check before posting

It's careless really, the way your Uncle finds out about the two of you.

After two months away, he calls you to let you know he'll be home at the end of the week. You get a similar call from Johnny after, letting you know that he'll be all yours for the next few weeks.

At your beck and call, is how he phrases it.

You hadn't forgotten about the letter stuck to the front of the fridge with one of the magnets your Uncle had bought you whilst he was away a few months ago.

On the contrary, you adore it. It's on the fridge because you see it every time you walk into the kitchen. Reading the tentative words in the first love letter you have ever received.

Sweets,

Being away from you is killing me, I'm being safe like I promised, keeping my head in the game, but I can't get you out of my head.

All I'm thinking about is coming home to you, you're going to have to pry me off you when I'm back.

I haven't said it yet but I love you. No one will ever come close to the way I feel about you. You bring me peace, make all the stuff in my head quiet and it's just you.

I can't believe you've been hidden away from me all this time.

When I'm home I'm going to take you out, I'll whisk you away somewhere nice and it'll be just us. No work, no worries and we'll figure it all out.

I hope you're not working too hard like I know you do. You're too smart for any of us, me especially. I could listen to you talk for days. Missing your voice, I'm sorry we can't call, but figured you'd enjoy a letter all the same.

Love your Johnny x

You cried like a baby when it arrived. Even when you're thousands of miles apart he's still thinking about ways to make you happy, and you're more than sure that he is it for you.

No one else could ever compete with the way that he has completely and utterly captured your heart.

Price feels his blood boil as he holds the letter in his hands, eyes flitting over a few of the stand-out phrases in it, written in Johnny's unmistakable handwriting. He's seen it enough on reports he's had to sign off to know it's his without having to even check the last line.

Seething is an understatement as he climbs back into his car, racing back to base to confront the man who has blatantly ignored all the warnings he's given.

It's not even the disrespect that angers him the most, it's the trust that Soap has completely broken. All the assurances, joking that you're a nicer version of him. How it's all just friendly, how he'd never make a move on you.

His thoughts flit back to you, you've got no clue what you've done to yourself. What you've opened yourself up to because if you realised, he's certain you would never have done this to him.

You're out at the moment, god knows where. He was expecting you to be at home considering it's the summer holiday for you. He'll deal with you later, probably more softly and with a bit more tact than the way he knows he's going to deal with Soap when he gets his bloody hands on him.

He's never driven so quickly back to base, even when he's been called in for emergencies.

He doesn't care for the speeding fine he's most likely going to cop, all that's on his mind is tearing Soap limb to fucking limb.

"MacTavish," is all he bellows as he spots the Scotsman, laughing with Ghost about who knows what.

"What the fuck is this?!" he bellows, slapping the letter down on the table in front of the cursed man.

Everything about the action causing the Scotsman in front of him to jump out of his skin.

"You're a dead man, MacTavish. Going to fucking bury you," he shouts as he leaps towards Soap, who's backed away from the table and the letter that's tossed on top of it.

Ghost has never seen the Captain so red, the veins in his neck stand up with rage as a vein down his forehead pulses with anger.

He doesn't waste any time putting himself between the two men, holding Soap back, his t-shirt screwed in his fist, and a flat palm again Price's chest.

It doesn't matter that he's the aggressor in this instance, he's not manhandling his Captain, no matter the issue.

"I told you to stay away, let you be her friend and you ignore everything."

Right. This needs to go somewhere private because this is definitely a personal issue, and there are a lot of eyes on the three of them currently, listening in to everything.

"Not here," is all Ghost needs to say before Price is storming off to his office, not even checking to see if Soap is following. He doesn't need to, Soap knows he'll only make things even worse if he runs now.

"What did you do, mate?" is all he says as he releases the man, pushing him in front, not before grabbing the letter left on the table, as they both march to Price's office.

When they get there papers are strewn, furniture is out of place and Price is pacing and mumbling incoherent threats.

Neither man has ever seen him so riled up, even on the battlefield. It's jarring. Usually, their Captain is so precise with his anger, it's carefully controlled and this is nothing like that.

He doesn't acknowledge them when they come in, he lets them stew in the tension. Waiting to pounce.

"Sit down."

Soap's in the chair in seconds, and for the second time today Ghost sees something new, this time it's Soap moving the fastest he ever has.

"I'm going to ask you questions and you're going to answer them."

Ghost feels like he really shouldn't be here, but if he leaves now he's not certain both men are coming out of this room alive.

Soap's looking absolutely terrified, he's pale and shaking harder than ever. His heart is beating at a rate that's completely unsustainable, he's either going to pass out or go over with a clutcher.

"How long."

Soap is stumbling over his words as he eventually spurts out "Six months,"

"Sir. Six months, sir," Price corrects, as he squares his shoulder, the tension not easing.

"Yes sir, sorry sir," Soap apologises as he bows his head not risking making eye contact.

"You've been lying to me and directly disobeying order for six fucking months!" he spits, as he advances on the man in the chair, before slamming his hand down on the desk next to Soap.

The sound rips through the office and once again Soap is jumping out of his skin at the blistering noise.

"Do you realise what you've done?" is the next thing that comes from Price's mouth. It's barely audible as he gets up in the younger man's face.

Ghost's seen Price interrogate the worst of the worst, and still, nothing could compare to this. The venom in his voice, or the malice in his eyes.

It's personal this time.

"Tell me why I shouldn't gut you from head to toe?" he spits, as he leans back again, waiting for Soap's answer.

"Because I love her, sir."

It's the first time he lifts his gaze the entire interaction.

"You love her?" Price scoffs, as he mocks the man shrinking under his gaze.

"That makes it okay then, why didn't you say so?" he mocks.

Ghost isn't sure what's going to happen next, it certainly isn't what Soap says next.

"I want to marry her, sir. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me, sir."

That was definitely not the right response, and it sends Price reeling.

"Oh, that makes it okay then, should have just said so!" he's seething now. Ghost really didn't think he could get more riled up than he already is, but once again he's surprised which doesn't happen very easily.

"Not only have you disrespected my orders. You've dragged her into your life and now you plan on marrying her now," his voice is steady and now filled with a deeply unsettling calmness.

"Get out of my sight," is the next thing to come out of his mouth before turning his back to the men in the room.

"And don't you ever think of contacting her again."

[midnight-mourning]

1000 kudos/100 Follower Special!

wow so um, there’s a LOT of you now

👀👀👀

WHERE DID Y'ALL EVEN COME FROM LIKE?? HI!! 👋👋👋

AND ALSO

THIS???? CRAZY, incredibly appreciated <3 but also wild

anyway, I think that deserves celebrating! So, here’s a couple ideas I came up with for y’all to vote on, with the option of sharing other ideas in the comments, I’ll do the top two and save the others for the next milestone :)

If the 'other' option gets the most/second most votes, I'll do another poll with ideas that people suggested and we'll go from there. You can scroll down and click the read more if you'd like more info on each option! SO, having said all that:

Letting you guys make the call with this one! I have stuff prepped for all of it, just a matter of people voting since this is ME showing my appreciation to YOU. And again, next milestone will have the opportunity for the other choices :)

Also, this isn't just for followers/the moots either! Anyone is welcome to vote and participate if they'd like to 💙💙

Please also feel free to ask questions in the comments if that helps you with voting! Can't wait to see what you guys pick :D

I will expand on each option here for clarity in your decision making:

CS one-shot: I will write a one-shot (3,000-5,000 words prob) based in the CS universe. It will be canon to the fic but will never be mentioned/referenced in the fic itself so stand alone to read. It may be a future scene, may be based somewhere in the current timeline. Open to ideas on the POV and such (though I have some floating around that I can do ;))

Q&A/Ask the Cast: a classic, I know my ask box is open but here's also a clear chance to ask something that you've been really curious about! I won't share spoilers for the story, but everything else is on the table, including stuff about me, writing etc. Just no super personal questions is all! Additionally, you can ask the cast questions and answers will be in character, perhaps with a little doodle as well ^-^

Finished refs/busts for the cast of CS: I'll post the finished versions of the rough sketches I shared a few months ago, along with the remainder of the cast! This includes the rest of the engineering team, the division heads, the glamrocks, and the DCA! I also will include little blurbs for all the characters as well. This will probably happen eventually anyway BUT if you want them sooner rather than later this is you're chance if you're curious :)

Spooky Season one-shot: something halloween-related that again I'm open to ideas for! Would also be about 3,000-5,000 words in length, could be related to CS or not

Writing Requests: similar to the requests I did for reveal day, same rules apply (no nsfw, suggestive is fine, be specific if you want specific) but a little longer in length (500-1000 words)

Doodle requests: I provide you with a little drawing I made with tender love and care (would be lined, colored, shaded, etc.)

A peek into the drafts: I do in fact have a couple other fic ideas floating around in my brain that I simply haven't started so that I don't get bogged down/focus on CS. I would share those and a little bit of concept art

Other: explained above

[lake-cosay]

Jesslake Demigod/PJO AU

hi so. finally making a real post about this.

i apparently made this au like 2 years ago but the pjo brainrot came back and i've been hyperfixating on this au again. while it does also feature my OCs this post is about the jesslake au

for clarity, this au takes place in the world of the Percy Jackson books, and assumes the canon story of the books is finished. it takes place in about 2020 (pjo canon is currently around 2011 ish). You don't need to have read the books to understand the au (I haven't) but. some knowledge of the universe will definitely help

most of my notes about the au are in the images, but here's a rough timeline of the major events: (it's long)

Jesse is born in 2005. he is raised by his mom and his mortal/adoptive father, whom he knows isn't his bio dad but treats him like it anyways. he doesn't know he's a demigod or who his bio dad is

Lake and Tulip are born in 2006. they both struggle as babies, but Lake much more so; they nearly die. Hephaestus, their father, dips Lake in the River Styx, giving them the Curse of Achilles, though theirs works a little different (more details on that later/in another post)

Hephaestus sends Lake to Camp Half-Blood to be raised there. (Chiron serves as a father figure to Lake, and they actually get along pretty well.) Tulip never finds out she has a twin until she arrives at camp.

Lake lives at CHB their whole life growing up. Sometime around the age of 8-10ish, they encounter the flecs for the first time. In this au, they were people but were cursed to become monsters, and still hunt Lake relentlessly. Lake has a pretty gnarly scar from their first encounter.

When she's 13, Tulip finds out she's a halfblood and is brought to camp (have not figured out how/by who yet, open to ideas). One-one is an automaton her dad built for her, not sure about Atticus.

When they're 13, Lake decides they want to see the world. They leave camp mostly on a whim, but take enough time to pack a bag and leave a note for Chiron asking him not to try and find them. Chiron somehow (through the Oracle, and Apollo kid, idk) divines that Lake will bring another half-blood to camp safely, and he trusts Lake, so he doesn't try to find them.

Lake wanders on foot for about a month, heading southwest. Eventually, they end up in Arizona, where they meet and slowly become friends with Jesse. Jesse's parents are glad he's spending time with someone who's not his other friends, and they let Lake hang out at their house a lot. They (of course) know Jesse's a demigod, and start to suspect Lake might be too. (Lake also starts suspecting about Jesse)

The "man test" (or something very similar) happens after Jesse meets Lake, and Lake is there to witness it. However, Jesse's friends turn out to be monsters (were they monsters the whole time or did other monsters impersonate his friends? i don't know. lol) and Jesse and Lake have to go rescue Nate (from the underworld? from a monster's lair? somewhere else? again, i don't know)

After that quest, Jesse properly arrives at camp, and him and Lake become very close.

There's a small arc with Lake that I'm not sure where it fits, but here's works: the harrasment and attacks from the flecs are getting worse, and somehow during an attack Lake manages to kill them (Lake never wanted to kill them before because they used to be people, and somehow they know they won't come back like other monsters, so killing them is genuinely killing them). Lake still has to grapple with the fact that they were people and they killed them, but also that it was in self defense.

There's another more significant arc for Lake involving Hephaestus. Probably happens 2 ish years after they meet Jesse. Hephaestus... doesn't like Lake. It seems like he always wants Lake to prove themself to him, but Lake refuses. So instead, he forces them, by setting a trap. Lake nearly dies in his trap (a web of hot metal wires that tie them up like they're in a spider web, covering them in deep burns; it makes sense given Hephaestus' other myths I promise), thankfully, Lake is rescued by Tulip and Jesse. However, the whole thing is definitely traumatizing, and really solidifies in Lake that their dad is a fucking asshole. (me and @jesse-cosay wrote a fic of this, we're most likely going to post it soon!) (also, that scars from this are in the drawing, but they don't look as Bad as I want them too, I was struggling with making them look Bad enough)

Lake and Jesse have become friends with my OCs (Rain, child of Hypnos, and Kona, daughter of. Apollo. sort of. not quite. it's complicated. also Kona is Jesse's cousin!) over the past 2 years or so, and when one of them (Rain) ends up in the Underworld, they both go with the other (Kona) to help rescue them (I can definitely elaborate on that if people are interested, but it's very self indulgent lol)

okay, here's some random little things about this au:

Annabeth no longer has the most beads, Lake does. They have 13. Chiron made sure he collected the beads for them since they were brought to camp.

The other main characters are at camp too (mostly). Grace is the daughter of Aphrodite, Simon is the son of Ares, both have them have lived at camp since they were kids. Simon takes after Luke, thinking the gods should be taken down entirely.

Min is an Athena kid and Ryan is an Apollo kid

Alan Dracula is still basically the same. Chiron doesn't know how he can get into camp. Or if he's a monster. He just knows the deer helps protect campers, and that Lake loves him, so he leaves Alan be.

Lake used to have their own room (a repurposed guest room) in the Big House but now stays with Jesse in Cabin 3 (during the summer, the rest of the year they live with him in Arizona)

When Tulip arrived at camp people assumed she was a Demeter kid because of her name, quickly realized she definitely is not a Demeter kid

Lake has kicked Simon's ass in combat numerous times. It's very rare that Simon ever wins against them period. Simon hates Lake with a burning passion. He HATES that the tiny hephaestus kid can beat him up.

Jesse really doesn't like when people call Poseidon his dad, even if he knows it's true, because to him, his dad is Stephen Cosay, a mortal, who helped raise him and whom he loves.

with all that out there, please feel free to ask questions!!! i love this au so much and i would love to talk about it more. my ask box is open!!! or you can reply to this post. i'm going to reblog Yellow's art from this au and make sure it's tagged so you can find it. the tag is #it pjo au

[cinnamontimecrunch]

Somewhere Only We Know

 [x gn!reader, could be read as platonic or romantic, 689 words]

[takes place after his overblot, so there may be spoilers for that! Also sorry this is so rushed, I had this idea and wanted to get it out before his birthday ended!]

Vil’s alarm went off at 6:00am the morning of his birthday. He reached for his phone to turn the alarm off, and saw the thousands of Magicam notifications. He figured he’d spend a few minutes looking through them and reply to a few. One of the first to catch his eye was a post made by Neige LeBlanche. His lips pursed into a line and his eyebrows furrowed lightly, before shaking the tension away. He had been trying to work on his unpleasant feelings towards Neige for the past few months, but the task was proving to be more arduous than he had expected. He sighed softly and liked the post, commenting a polite thank you.

The rest of his notifications and texts were similar, filled with birthday wishes from coworkers and fans alike, as well as a text from Rook from midnight the night before. Vil turned his phone off and stood up to get ready for the day. He stepped around an expanse of gifts in his room that must have been brought in by his dorm members, not paying them any mind as he made his way to his bathroom. 

He heard a knock on his door in the middle of doing his morning skincare routine. He grimaced, ready to admonish whichever dorm member decided to interrupt his morning routine.His face became one of confusion, however, when he heard Rook’s muffled voice.

“Roi du Poison, your favorite Trickster is here to see you! And they bring a gift!” Vil’s face softened ever-so-slightly at the mention of your presence.

“You may let them in.” He replied, leaving his bathroom. He hadn’t even put on makeup yet, and he wondered when you became someone he trusted enough to see him without it. 

When you entered, he gave you a soft, practiced smile. 

“What brings you here, prefect?” He said, noticing your hands behind your back.

“I wanted to wish you a happy birthday! I was going to send you a text, but I figured you’d be getting lots of those, and I didn’t want my message to get lost in the shuffle.” You replied.

He smiled to himself. He knew you could never get lost in the shuffle. He had your messages pinned, and you had your own ringtone and text tone. You didn’t need to know that, though.

“I appreciate that.” He replied calmly. “Now, if I may ask, what is it you have behind your back? Rook mentioned a gift?”

Your cheeks flushed slightly as you looked at the lavish gifts littering his floor.

“Don’t get too excited, it’s not nearly as nice as the gifts you have here, I don’t have the money for that.” You joked, laughing nervously.

You pull the gift out from behind your back, and he sees that it’s a photo album. A cheap one you likely bought from Sam’s store, covered in stickers and little drawings. Vil took it from your hands and began flipping through it. They were all pictures of him, but not pictures he was used to seeing. None of them had his practiced smile, nor the sultry gaze he had perfected over the years. No, in these photos, he was laughing, and really smiling. His teeth were showing, his eyes were crinkled, and his cheeks flushed. He was pulled out of his reverie by your voice.

“It’s not much, but I’ve been taking candids of you since your overblot, of times when you looked really happy. I know it isn’t really expensive or anything, but-”

“Nonsense.” He interrupted, his smile widening. “This is the best gift I’ve gotten.”

He put his hands on your shoulders and pulled you in for a hug, for once not worried about whether it would wrinkle his clothes.

“Thank you, prefect.” He said, tears gathering in his eyes as he hugged you tighter.

Who would’ve thought that the magicless prefect who, a year ago he wouldn’t have even spared a second glance, would be the one to break down his barriers? He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he hoped that you would continue to worm your way into his heart.

[phantomtwitch]

Electric Core/No One Knows AU

I meant to post this for some event, but never got around to it. Since AO3 is functionally down at the moment, I figured I'd share it in case folks are looking for something to read. It's kind of similar to 'As the Ice Begins to Crack' in terms of vibes (or at least that's what I was aiming for - I want to write more AUs in that vein, and I might expand more on this at some point).

Enjoy!

Tucker knows it’s coming as soon as the air shifts. 

The differences are subtle at first. A faint whiff of ozone, a slight chill to the air as the wind picks up and sweeps the fall leaves into spirals over the ground, and then the hairs on his arms stand on end. Then comes the low-pitched hum, the hiss that sounds like electricity running through high-voltage cables, peppered with the occasional burst of static and awful whining as the air grows heavy and thick, the sky darkening even when moments ago the sun shone brightly above them.

Sam freezes next to him, her fingers clutching her milkshake tightly as her eyes dart from side to side, looking for somewhere to hide until they land on an abandoned house nearby. “Come on,” she insists, tugging at his hand.

“Sam, there’s no way that place is safe, it’s been condemned for years–”

“--and being out here with Phantom is?” she interrupts, and Tucker scowls, knowing that she’s right, but moving from one dangerous spot to another isn’t ideal. There’s nowhere else close enough to go, though, or at least not anywhere they won’t risk getting struck once the lightning starts, and he follows her with a groan and an eye roll. They’re on the porch when the first lightning bolt strikes the pavement nearby, making it explode and sending shrapnel flying that barely misses him and Sam, and thunder roars, painfully loud and close. He slaps his hands over his ears, trying to block out what noise he can, but his ears are still ringing when it stops.

Sam forces one of the windows open and climbs through, with Tucker following shortly after. The house is empty and covered in heavy dust that makes Tucker sneeze as they disturb it, the air almost as oppressive inside as it was out, and in the corner he can see signs of something rotting that he doesn’t dare approach. 

The two of them stand at the window even though they both know better. When a ghost that is more an embodiment of the storm than the kind of vague, intangible figure haunting ghost stories becomes a common fixture in town, endless safety lectures and drills become the norm. Knowing what to do in the event of a thunderstorm is the closest the teachers can get to explaining the safety precautions that are necessary when Phantom is about. 

He’s only actually seen Phantom once before, when Sam begged him and Danny to go on a ghost hunting trip back in freshman year on Halloween. Tucker wasn’t terribly interested in ghosts, but he was too old for trick-or-treating and not popular enough to score an invite to any parties, so he agreed. Danny did, too, but bailed at the last minute, claiming he felt too tired and sick to go with them. 

Tucker tries not to think about Danny too much. The three of them haven’t spoken in close to six months, at least, drifting further and further apart despite his and Sam’s best efforts to stay friends their first two years of high school together. Most days he’s barely in class anymore, and when he is Danny is constantly tucked away in a corner, curling in tightly on himself, careful to avoid getting too close to anyone. Dark circles constantly ring his eyes, his expression hollow and skin too pale. Sam asked Jazz once before she went off to college if Danny was seriously ill and she denied it, even as it was clear something about him had changed since high school started.

“Do you ever talk to Danny anymore?” he asks suddenly, and the shift in conversation as they peer out the window and wait for the elusive Phantom to make his appearance catches Sam off guard.

“No. Does anyone?” she says, her tone resigned as another loud peal of thunder echoes around them, and Tucker swears he sees the house shaking. They argued a few times about what to do and what else to try, never figuring out a way to reach him. 

“I guess not.” He turns back to look outside, rubbing his arms as a figure blinks into existence on the road. The features are hard to make out, as always, because of the bright green lightning that flickers across his form, making it nearly impossible to stare at Phantom for too long. His hair looks wispy and white, his eyes swirling pools of green amidst a heavily shadowed face, and his form is hazy and more like smoke or dark clouds in the vague shape of a person, yet there’s an odd solidity in the way that he moves at times, as if by far heavier and present than he ought to be in this inhuman state. 

The words that come out when Phantom speaks next aren’t any language humans can hope to imitate, but it’s clearly a form of communication, the ear piercing whine and buzzing reminding Tucker of standing beneath high-voltage wires even as it rises and lowers in pitch and the rhythms shift. There’s an echo to the words, a way it loops through the air as if constantly caught inside a tunnel no matter where Phantom appears, and his voice gets under Tucker’s skin, prickling like static beneath the surface and making him rub his arms more fiercely than before.

Another ghost roars back, his voice full of snarling and hissing, the sounds animalistic even as there’s a mechanical clicking that accompanies it, and Tucker recognizes it and winces as he spots the strange robotic ghost flying in mid-air, green flames cascading down his skull and back, completely unhampered by the rain that is now beginning to steadily fall. The Fentons call him Skulker. The hunter ghost is infamous, stalking his ‘prey’ throughout Amity Park, although what particular creature ends up being his prey in any given week is often impossible to know until it’s too late. Mostly what he hunts are other animals and ghosts, and for whatever reason, Phantom has long been one of his favored targets.

But the ghost stands little to no chance against Phantom.

“Maybe we should get away from the window,” suggests Tucker uneasily as a green blast extends from Phantom’s palm, swirling with crackling green lightning as it lashes out at Skulker, and sparking arcs of electricity dart from it, sparking against a stop sign and dancing across the pavement towards their hiding place. Though no one has ever seen Phantom directly attack a human before, his powers are wild and dangerous, the lightning barely controlled.

And Tucker’s all too aware that just because no one has ever witnessed Phantom attacking someone before doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do it.

“No, I want to watch,” whispers Sam stubbornly as she peers through the window, but her knuckles are white as she grips the window frame. Tucker barely suppresses a sigh as he remains firmly in place. The things he does for his best friend.

His only friend, a quiet voice whispers, but he ignores it. 

The fight is brutal, the ghosts barely visible as they attack each other, but the evidence of their fight is everywhere as green fire spirals, intertwining with the lightning amidst the rain. “It’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?” says Sam, the lights and shadows dancing in front of them, and he nods despite himself. It’s terrifying, inhuman. The Fentons’ say that ghosts are nothing more than imprints, echoes of post-human consciousness, but as he watches them fight Tucker realizes he’s never truly understood exactly what that means, if they’re spirits or souls or just the fading echoes given some unnatural life at the very moment of someone’s death. 

“How do you think Phantom died?” he asks as Skulker slams into the pavement, the machinery smoking and his flames dwindling as the rain comes down harder, and Sam doesn’t answer, likely unable to hear him over the downpour and crackle of thunder. They watch as Phantom looms over Skulker, his indistinct form more monstrous than ever, and then he slams a fist into the machinery, his fingers sharp, black claws that spark as they dig through the metal frame and pull out a shimmering, shifting ghost, so tiny compared to the hulking frame encapsulating it. 

The rain begins to slow and Tucker wonders for a moment what Phantom will do, if he will destroy the squirming helpless thing in his hands, but then there’s a soft whisper, the sounds that come from Phantom no longer sending chills down his spine but inviting comfort instead, of an odd sort of warmth and gentleness. The ghost–is it Skulker? Tucker isn’t sure–responds in a mewling, annoyed tone, but stops fighting back as Phantom pulls an odd soup like container from . . . Tucker isn’t sure, actually, just where Phantom pulls it from, but he flicks the cap open with practiced ease and sucks the small ghost inside. 

“Isn’t that one of the Fentons’ inventions?” wonders Sam, and Tucker jolts as he realizes she’s right. He remembers seeing it once in one of the assemblies, but the device has rarely appeared in their arsenal since they created the portal guns to send the ghost back to their own dimension instead. “Think he stole it from them?”

“With the level of security they have around that place? Doubt it,” says Tucker. Though it’s been ages since he was last at the Fentons, their ghost security was aggressive enough that it would target sufficiently ecto contaminated humans by mistake, let alone a incredibly powerful ghost like Phantom. Tucker doubts they’ve downgraded their security since then, especially since the number of ghost attacks are only increasing. “Maybe he found it in the trash.”

“Maybe,” she hums, sounding doubtful, and it’s at that moment that the electric green eyes snap towards them, focusing intently, and although it’s too late both Sam and Tucker duck in a futile effort to hide. 

“Shit,” hisses Tucker, and Sam shushes him, putting a finger to her lips, but it’s too late as the air in front of them crackles and flickers as a bolt of electricity impossibly strikes the floor in front of them, Phantom appearing within it, his arms wrapped around the thermos. He and Sam flinch as they curl in towards each other, Sam’s hand grasping his own tightly now as the two of them tremble, and he can barely stand to look at Phantom, the electricity arcing along his body too bright. 

A hiss of static erupts, the same odd ghost speech as always, but this time Tucker understands it, hearing words within the noise even though that shouldn’t be possible. “You shouldn’t stay here,” says Phantom, the sparks around him diminishing, although now that Tucker can make out his features more clearly it’s almost worse as he opens his mouth to speak, sharp white fangs sparkling within. 

“Well where else were we supposed to go with you out there fighting?” grumbles Sam, and Tucker stares at her in horror, unable to believe she would dare to speak to any ghost, let alone Phantom, that way. But the ghost lets out an odd sound, of echoing loops and trills and whirring, and it takes Tucker a second to realize he’s laughing. 

“Fair. But this place is haunted,” he replies with a grin, “and the ghost that lives here doesn’t take kindly to intruders.”

“That’s–um–fine,” stutters Tucker, squeezing Sam’s hand tightly before she can utter another word as he forces himself to his feet. “We’ll, um, get going. And, um, thanks.”

The sparks stop running along his body, freezing at midpoints in a way that completely unnerves Tucker, as if the ghost is frozen in a photo instead of standing in front of them. “Thanks?” he repeats.

“For stopping the ghost?” he squeaks out. “And warning us about the, um, other ghost haunting this place?” His voice is so high that Tucker thinks he could sing soprano right now if Phantom asked. 

Phantom continues to stare at him, saying nothing and remaining so still Tucker would swear he’s a statue, and eventually Tucker swallows as he grabs Sam’s hand and tries to pull her through the window, but she refuses to budge. “Sam,” he hisses, tugging again. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Not yet,” she insists. “Phantom . . . Are you . . . do you have a place to go?”

“I’m not a lost puppy,” he says, the unnatural stillness rolling off him with a wave of sparks. “And I can’t be near humans for long anyway. It’s hard to control the electricity, and dying from electrocution is a terrible way to go.” There’s a noise behind the words, an echo of long, awful scream that makes Tucker shiver and instinctively realize then that Phantom is speaking from experience, and for the first time it occurs to him that the noises that comprise each ghost’s individual speech aren’t half as random as he believed. 

It’s the sound of their death, echoing for eternity, never letting them or anyone else forget. “Is that . . .” asks Sam, wanting to confirm it.

“Yes,” he says simply, and then there’s the sound of something breaking upstairs, a window smashing and shattering, and static prickles against Tucker’s skin. “You should go.”

“Right. And, um, bye, I guess?” says Tucker awkwardly, and finally Sam follows him out the window and back out onto the street. Despite the sounds upstairs, there’s no broken glass outside beneath any of the windows above them, and as he glances back he can see Phantom’s eyes watching, considering them carefully, before another bolt strikes and he vanishes in a clap of thunder, leaving Sam and Tucker alone once more. 

[spar-kie]

Do You Have The Time?

A Thorough Dissection of What Past Aevium Means For You

So I've been reading through @/jazz-kitty's rejuv playthrough (not actually tagging them bc this will contain spoilers for shit they've not gotten to but if you're reading this Jazz, keep up the good work! It's super fun to read through your playthrough :>), and I've realized we got some concrete dates (in a fashion), meaning that, we might be able to figure out when Storm 9 happens, within a couple months! As well as some other details.

Anyways even if you don't want to hear my rambling about dates, there's gonna be something I really want to share underneath the cut, I'll put some big bold header text so you know where to scroll to.

Now, it all starts here, with Melia's Mimikyu, which we are there to see caught, giving us a concrete date, October 10th, 198X.

Now you may be asking yourself, but Sparkie, the screenshot says 1984? That's because my buddy Nym, who is on the dev team, stated that to its memory, the year is calculated based off your system date. Meaning that the year will change depending on the year you play Rejuv in. However, Jazz's post that I got this from does mention in the tags how the rest of Melia's pokemon are caught from 1981-1983. I had an old save file kicking around that was near Blacksteeple, and checking "Emma's" Pokemon in that I can also say that these dates are variable based off system time. Being 198X-3 through 198X-1. For simplicity's sake we're going to be based off of System Time being the year 2024, mostly because shit like 198X-1 is hard to read. But just keep in mind that as Rejuv is set in 202X these dates have about a 10 year range they can vary by, this will come back later, take note of this.

I want to establish before we go forward, you can also see how this works for yourself rather easily, if you go into the past and catch a pokemon, the date it's caught at will be your system time, minus 40 years. This, combined with some plot elements such as Melia's birthday being after she catches this Mimikyu confirms that the past segments take place exactly 40 years before present day, with the Time Crystals not sending you back or forth to a specific time and date, but rather a set amount of time forward and back (in this case 40 years).

Anyways, this also lets us know that Storm-9 happened a little over 39 years ago as of the game's start, and at some point during the game's time span we will hit the 40 year anniversary. I always thought it was 50 years before the game's start, I don't remember if I got that from somewhere in game or it's just one of them things I got in my head, but between the wiki and a reply from Zumi on one of my tweets it's actually 40. If anyone has the same misconception I had, I hope that clears it up.

But through what we can gleam in game, we can actually tell (roughly) when Storm-9 happens! Judging by the fact we can still visit the past at the end of the .karma files, Storm-9 has not hit the past yet. It's going to happen very soon, but it's not there yet. Thankfully, we have a very concrete date on when that would be, December 25th, 2024, as the Xen Raid is just one day later. Meaning, that as of December 25th, 1984, the Aevium region is still fine. This combined with the fact that there is a note on the door of the house occupied by the A-Gang near Hyoshi City that says they'll be out until the Summer means that they are going to be at school until late May, early June, assuming it runs at similar time frames to a school in the U.S.. Meaning that, at some point, most likely in Early 1985, but possibly for about a week in Late 1984, is when Storm 9 hits. You could extrapolate more (i.e. no teachers/other students in the academy during the Interceptor's Nightmare Realm means people might've been on break, meaning it was Late 1984 and the gang was just hanging out at the academy) but as that's explicitly stated to be not entirely accurate to how that day actually was, I'm not going to do that.

HI IF YOU JUST WANT THE FUNNY INFORMATION SCROLL HERE

Anyways, now that you've heard me ramble about dates like your history teacher, we get to the fun part! That being I get to tell you about the A gang! That being we know the protag choices are 17-18 years old, and given that we know Storm 9 happened in either very Late 1984 or Early 1985, we can assume that the A-Gang were those ages during Storm-9. Meaning their birth years could range between 1966-1968, placing them firmly in Gen X, meaning they are chronologically old enough to be some of the people reading this's parents!

But that's not all, do you remember how I stated that Rejuv took place in 202X, meaning it could be any year of the 2020s? And thus, the past segments take place in any year 40 years before that, in the 1980s? If we were to say, put the year Rejuv takes place in in 2020, then that would mean the A Gang would be born in the years 1962-1964.

The general consensus on baby boomers is that they were born between 1946-1964.

The A Gang could, conceivably, be baby boomers.

Have a nice night everyone.

[nxposure]

On my last blog, I wrote about my eating disorder at great length. I think it's time to do it again. If you don't like long text posts, feel free to skip this, but don't skim read it and reply because that's not nice.

TW if you need it, eating disorders, self harm, body dysmorphia.

----

People seem to think that eating disorders don't really apply to men. I spent my entire childhood listening to just about everyone passing judgement on other people's weight. As a boy, my apparent role models were all athletes, thin or muscular actors, skinny popstars and guys in music, and any husky person was either funny or tragic.

As I got older, I noticed these attitudes getting worse. Muscular men between acting jobs would stop cutting and starving their bodies, but would still look like peak physical condition but would be referred to as having a 'dad bod'.

Older still, I'd see people waggling their little fingers making jokes about small dicks, or laughing about people who cum to quick. People were too tall or not tall enough. Then they'd be too skinny if they were too fat. Then, laughs about baldness or their bodies being too hairy. It went on and on.

It melted my brain. I wanted to be whatever this idea shape was and deep down, I knew it wasn't possible, and I developed an immovable self loathing that I suspect I'll carry with me through my whole life.

I'd hear women getting similar criticisms, and the criticisms came equally from women and men, gay and straight, and of all races and creeds, and I think somewhere in my thoughts, I gave up trying to find a peaceful way of navigating this and began to purge every time I ate. I was playing a lot of team sports and would vomit before every game. I'd then go home, eat, and repeat. I became dangerously thin and people would tell me my body looked great.

I would pass out a lot through exhaustion and my eyes became dark. At some point I collapsed and hit my face on a shelf, then a radiator, and pretended to everyone that I'd just been in a fight.

After a short time thinking I'd fixed myself after scaring myself when I'd collapsed, it started again. I switched out bulimia for anorexia. I was now not eating at all. I remember hitting my hand with a spoon over and over when someone brought me some food to work, anxiety in overdrive as I hoped they wouldn't notice me not touching any of the food they gave me. That happened a lot and the back my hand was frequently purple with bruises.

I've kept a photo of a more recent period so I have something to check, in case I've dropped too much weight. This was me not that long ago, irresponsibly thin and I'd made myself very poorly. The skirt is cute though.

It was around this time that I'd collapsed again, this time in public. I was rushed to hospital with malnutrition and it was in the middle of lockdown so hospitals were swamped and everything was weird.

I was given a COVID test and while the nurses went to do my test, I sneaked out of the hospital because I didn't want them to tell me anything about how thin I was, even though they'd already clocked me. I walked home and collapsed three more times in the street, and twice more at home. I managed to get myself back to hospital eventually and spent the night under observation and was fed sugary gels and put on a drip to try and replace some of what my body had been missing for months.

I again discharged myself and ran away from the problem.

I was disgusted with myself. I was being irresponsible. I thought I looked enormous. I then made myself more depressed because I shouldn't talk about people's bodies like that. I loved people of all shapes and sizes and here I was, judging someone for being fat. I didn't eat or drink a single thing for two weeks after being in hospital. I was going mad. It was time to tell my friends what was going on, and it turned out a number of them had already worked it out.

One of the things I needed to fix was some of the people I sought advice from. I'd found people in secret who also had eating disorders and people who self harmed. It sounded like we were helping each other from the outside in, but the reality was that we were all enabling each other. Some call it trauma bonding. I call it unwell people egging each other on and even being competitive about it.

One girl said to me that my eating disorder wasn't as bad as hers. She gave me tips on how to act like I was getting better to other people. Saying you're trying is as good as actually trying, she added. It's all part of the performance.

I didn't want to be ill. I just wanted to not feel violently sick when I thought about my own body existing. I wanted to not be perceived at all, and to be left in darkened rooms, wasting away. While I spent all those nights, just lying there, I realised that this illness wasn't like other illnesses. Cancer wants to devour you. Broken bones want to heal. This eating disorder wanted me to stay alive but maximise the suffering in a prolonged bout of self harm. Me being dead was no use to my dysmorphia. I did just enough to stay alive, so I could maximise the suffering. It was like an endurance sport with no medal.

At some point, my name was put forward to appear on a news programme on national television. One of my supposed support network worked in TV and was asked if they knew anyone who had what had been rebranded as 'manorexia'. It's funny - even when showing concern, people still do stupid things like giving an illness that applies to anyone a ridiculous name. We don't call it blokeaemia do we?

After speaking to the genuinely respected and very nice journalist who I'd seen on television a lot, she was heavy handed in her questions. Things like "is it just vanity then?" is one that sticks in my memory. After 3 days of back and forth, the news story was dropped because a panda had given birth in a zoo somewhere. My sense of the absurd and gallows humour kicked in, mercifully. Men's eating disorders, relegated beneath a captive animal having a baby.

Another friend who was genuinely being well-meaning told me how brave I was, "going around telling everyone you have a woman's disease". I wasn't angry because I knew what they meant, but to someone more fragile, it could have gone horribly wrong. Another friend simply said "I don't want to ever talk about this - it's too upsetting."

I became aware of famous men talking about their eating disorders. A politician called John Prescott spoke of his and everyone laughed at it and made jokes on panel shows, based entirely on the fact that he wasn't thin enough. Everyone laughed at Hugh Jackman on talkshows when he spoke of the starvation and duress he put his body under to look a certain way for movies. Thin women were pointed at when they put an ounce of weight on. I heard women sniggering about other women saying "what does she look like in that dress?"

More recently, people would berate the 45th president of the United States for being "fat", rather than going after more pertinent things like his whole personality and terrible views. Fat, in this instance, was the ultimate sin, not being pro-fascist. I noticed how many larger men were clowning around at their own expense, and women would coo about them online. People like Jack Black - talented, good looking, charismatic - would be met with "I don't care that he's fat".

So where am I now? Mentally, the damage is done and I don't think I'll ever lose the will to harm myself. However, since my last collapse, I swore I'd never go there again. I rigidly eat three times a day. I've actively learned to enjoy the cooking process. It's been incredibly difficult, perhaps in part because I stubbornly refuse any professional help. I looked around for a psychiatrist who would help at one point, but every single one told me that they weren't taking men on.

Way back when, I started sharing photos of my body on Tumblr in a state of undress because I wanted to normalise how I looked. If I sandwiched myself between everyone else's nudes which I thought were beautiful, then I gave myself a chance to think the same of my own. It certainly helped. There's something about the kind of people this site attracts that celebrates a variety of people and I can be flooded with dopamine when my photos get complimented. They're compliments from people that sometimes get it, and that matters. Some people just think I'm being thirsty, and sometimes, they're absolutely correct.

My stomach has grown. There's fat bits on my back which I've never seen before. My neck got chunky where my jawline used to be razor sharp. At long last, I'm learning to love this. I love the softness of people's bodies, and it's taken me decades to realise that I'm just people too. I wear soft clothes that feel nice against my skin. I've collaborated on photos with wonderful people. While my dysmorphia is so bad that I doubt I'll ever find it easy to sexually pleasure myself, I've been shocked to find that people on here have actually had me feeling like a viable and sexy person! It's a completely new feeling to me and I'm trying to get better at taking compliments instead of pushing them away.

I've written about this before and at some length, but I feel it's important to do it again so it doesn't get lost. It might help someone. It might help people understand me better. It might help someone understand what their friend is going through. It might just be enough to offer an interesting perspective and nothing more.

I'm doing better than I've done in memory and it's weird and makes me feel vulnerable. I don't want to get complacent and writing this reminds me of how far I've come and not to let this terrible illness sneak up on me again. I've been through some horrendous emotional stress recently, and that's exactly the kind of time where a thing like this can reintroduce itself into my brain.

I'm doing okay though, genuinely. I can only write about these things when I'm in a good place. I hope you are too. If anyone ever needs to speak to me about anything like this, I can't promise I can fix you, but I can definitely empathise and I will root for you.

(please forgive any typos or garbled language in this - I wrote it in one take, off the cuff, without editing)

[niki-phoria]

Jealous Chishiya x Male Reader?👉🏻👈🏻

pairing: chishiya x male!reader (no pronouns used but reader wears swim trunks) genre: fluff word count: 1.4k

warnings: slightly ooc chishiya, canon typical violence, blood, haven't written a game in so long, i wrote the first part of this and didn't want to delete it so just skip to past the time skip to see jealous chishiya lol

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i posted something similar to this not that long ago but i tried to keep them different. i really like this idea. i hope you enjoy it :))

requests open !! read my rules first

a light breeze chills your exposed skin. you tug your jacket further over body as you follow chishiya up the steps of the toei sendagaya apartment building. he reaches out to grab a phone, quickly signing in as if it’s second nature before moving to stand near the wall of the building. 

you follow suit, shoving your phone into the pocket of your swim trunks as you stand beside him. chishiya pulls out his altered music player, silently handing you an earphone. you silently take it before taking the opportunity to look at the other players. there aren’t many of them yet - a nervous woman, a drunk man, and a fidgeting college student. the game shouldn’t be too difficult. 

you shove your hands further into your pockets - a habit you picked up from chishiya after months of spending nearly all of your time around him. time seems to move faster than ever as even more people walk up the steps. 

two men are the final players to enter, making the total count 16 people. one of them has bleached blonde hair. he’s wearing a dirty pair of jeans and a thin hawaiian shirt over a gray t-shirt. the other has shaggy black hair and wears a light blue jacket. 

they both step aside from the stairwell. a nervous man in a blue cap approaches them just after their phones ding with a confirmation of them signing in. “excuse me,” he fidgets with his fingers. “could you help me? i’m not sure what’s going on.” 

“oh, you have to play the games to-”

“what are you doing?” the brunette’s friend elbows his ribs. “we don’t know him.” they both shrink away from the man right before the game begins. 

“registration closed. game: tag. difficulty: five of spades. rules: players run away from the ‘tagger’ and try to find a safe room located somewhere in the building. game clear: players press the button in the safe zone. game over: players are killed by the tagger or fail to find the safe zone in time. players have two minutes before the game begins.”

it feels like sparks ignite against your skin when chishiya reaches over to grab your hand. you silently let him lead you along behind him into the elevator and up to the ninth floor. you lean against the railing beside him overlooking the building and the courtyard. “we should be able to see all of the other players from up here.” 

“at least it’s a nice view,” you mumble. 

the game begins slowly enough. only a few stray gunshots ring out in the otherwise peaceful silence of what used to be a bustling apartment building. 

soon, they begin to pick up. you nearly flinch when a woman lets out a shrill scream that’s swiftly cut off by a single bullet. chishiya reaches over to grab your hand when you do, gently squeezing it in his. despite the circumstances it’s a welcome comfort. 

time has always passed quicker when chishiya is with you - even in games when it feels like everything drags. you desperately try to ignore the continuous string of gunshots and the desperate pleas of the other players as they echo in the empty building. chishiya’s thumb strokes against your knuckles as the minutes continue on. 

eventually, he squeezes your hand. “that should be enough time,” he whispers. “come on.” 

you nod, following after him as he leads you to the fourth floor. the safe room looks exactly like the rest except for the bustling you can hear, even from the outside. chishiya gently pushes you out of the way as he slams the door shut before bracing himself against the wall. a new string of gunshots blows through the door - just barely missing you on the other side. 

“there’s two buttons!” a man yells from inside the room. 

“of course,” chishiya scoffs. “are you okay?” 

“i’m alive,” you sigh. “let’s just push the damn buttons.” 

he nods, slowly cracking the door open. a woman has hoisted herself up onto the edge, looking into the room. “here!” he yells before sliding the taser across the floor to her. she’s quick to grab it, pressing it against the tagger’s side. 

their body convulses as it falls to the floor. you grimace at the sight before following chishiya into the room. “the buttons!” the man gasps. he’s quick to launch his body at the button as the woman does the same. you let out a small sigh of relief when you look over at the timer. 00:01.

the tagger sits up from the floor - herr horse mask laying forgotten on the floor beside her. she looks over at the timer in horror before gasping, bringing her hands up to her face. she frantically pulls at the chunky collar around her neck to no avail before you shut your eyes, looking away to avoid seeing her death. 

blood coats the walls and the floor when you open them again. the man rushes out of the room as the woman jumps back down through the building along the balconies. you step closer, kneeling down beside chishiya. he pats her body down before opening the breast pocket. inside is a little slip of paper with a drawing on it: a circle with a mess of lines going through it and overlapping with each other. 

“what do you think it is?” you whisper. 

“i’m not sure,” he replies. “but i’m sure we’ll figure it out.” chishiya reaches over to grab your hand, squeezing it in his. despite all of your worries - you believe him.

chishiya watches from a distance as you laugh with kuina on a beach chair. arisu and usagi sit across from you, also doubled over in laughter - presumably from a joke you told. you’ve always had an ability to make people laugh. 

an uncomfortable, but familiar, feeling crawls into chishiya’s chest. it settles against his ribs, pressing down on his heart. all rationality is forgotten as he continues staring. seconds pass. then minutes. then, his feet are moving on their own - carrying him over to where you are. 

“y/n,” he says. you look up. a small smile spreads across your face when you notice it’s him. “i need your help with something.” 

“okay,” you murmur, turning back to your friends for a moment. “i’ll be right back.” kuina simply waves you off as you stand to follow chishiya back into the beach’s hotel. it’s not uncommon for him to seek you out of a crowd specifically. 

you close the door behind yourself as soon as you enter the familiar room chishiya had turned into a makeshift workshop. he walks over to the side of the room, leaning back against the table. his hands remain deep in his pockets - though he’s not sure if it’s the remnants of a habit or a poor attempt to hide his anxiousness. he sighs, finally forcing the words out. “do you like her?” 

you cock your head at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “who?” 

“kuina.” 

“like… romantically?” you chuckle a little, stepping forwards. chishiya remains silent, gaze fully focused on you. “no, i don’t like kuina. why? are you jealous?” he can feel his face warming just slightly at your question. teasing as it is, it was still enough to fluster him. instead of answering, he watches as you step even closer to him. he can nearly feel your breath as you reach up to stroke a hand against his face. “i like you, chishiya.” 

his breath nearly hitches in his throat. you lean even closer, just barely brushes your nose against his. your eyes flutter closed as chishiya takes the final step to pull you into a sweet kiss. 

it starts soft. your lips barely brush against each other for a few seconds until you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer. chishiya’s hands rest against your hips as he smiles into it. you reciprocate immediately before pulling away with big smiles. 

“i like you too, y/n.” he whispers. 

“good,” you whisper, leaning up to press a final peck against his lips. “i’m tired. come on, let’s go to bed.” 

chishiya stifles a chuckle, letting you tug him along back to your room. “whatever you want, love.”

[atinylittlepain]

Of Saints and Sinners - Chapter 9

Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

Decisions are made for family and the future.

warnings | 18+ angst, descriptions of violence

a/n | the last entry in this series. thank you to all who read the very first thing i posted to this blog <3

...............................

Joel knew that there were a handful of kids that lived at the childcare center. It was usually only temporary, a couple in Jackson taking them in soon after they found themselves in need of a home. But there were some who couldn’t get placed somewhere new. Kids who had seen something they shouldn’t have, the world taking an early toll on them and leaving them damaged in one way or another. Maria had told him about it. Kids who would lash out like soldiers back from serving, flashes of their past dragged into the present rendering them reactive and violent. There were others who just wouldn’t speak, mute ghosts that needed looking after. 

He thinks about that conversation as he sits outside the childcare center, wringing his hands in his lap. She had left him on a bench on the playground and told him she’d be right back out. With Will. The little boy he saw her with all those months ago. He had never seen her like that before or after that time, the clear love that she had wrapped around the kid. It made him nervous. He knows this is more than important to her. It’s another wall coming down. Maybe one of the last ones.

His breath catches in his throat when the door to the building opens. She comes out first, but he can see that she’s holding a very small hand next to her hip. The boy stays close behind her legs as she walks over to him. Joel’s not sure if he should stand or stay seated, but they’re on him before he can really decide so he stays on the bench, pressing his palms into his thighs. She’s smiling, drawing Will to stand by her side even though he buries his face into her hip. Joel’s eyes are darting between her face and the mop of dark hair that’s pressed against her jeans. She brings a palm to the boy’s back, rubbing gently.

“Joel, this is Will. Will, this is who I was telling you about.” Joel clears his throat, realizing all too late that he hasn’t had a whole lot of recent experience talking to kids. His voice comes out a lot gruffer than he intended.

“Hi, Will.” He feels like a dope, but she offers him another reassuring smile before carding her fingers through the boy’s hair, encouraging him to finally look at Joel. He holds Joel’s gaze for a heartbeat, eyes quickly going to his pigeon-toed sneakers. The boy’s voice is small but clear.

“Hello.” She crouches down next to the boy, keeping an arm wrapped around his waist as she glances back at Joel. He feels like his heart is beating out of his chest.

“Do you remember what I told you about Joel, bud? How I ride horses with him?” The boy nods, glancing at Joel again. She smiles before looking back up at Joel.

“Will really wants to ride horses. He thinks they’re the coolest, don’t you?” Will nods again, the suggestion of a smile on his face. Joel can’t help a similar grin turning the corners of his mouth. He leans onto his elbows, dipping his head to try to catch the boy’s gaze. He’s trying to remember how to talk to a kid, really.

“You like horses, kid?” Not his best effort, but Will still nods, finally meeting Joel’s gaze.

“I read books about them, a-and I’ve seen pitchers of them.” Joel’s heart squeezes at his words. 

“You ever seen one up close?” Will becomes a bit more animated at his question, his eyes widening.

“Only a long time ago.” Joel glances her way but she’s looking at the boy with a hopeful smile. He’s not sure if it’s even allowed, but Joel’s already saying it.

“How’d you like to see some horses today?” The boy lets out a bright gasp that makes Joel laugh. Suddenly, his chest feels a lot lighter than it has in a long time. Will’s eyes dart to her, seeming to silently ask her if Joel’s for real. She offers him a grin and a nod.

“We can go see the horses, bud. I’ll just have to check with Laura, ok?” Will nods his head whip-fast, already trying to wriggle out of her arms. She fixes the boy with a firm but kind look.

“I need you to stay here with Joel while I go let Laura know, alright?” Joel’s stomach drops at her words. Sure, he was starting to do ok with the kid, but with her there as well. He did not feel ready to be solely responsible for him, even if it was for a few minutes. But she’s already walking back towards the building while Will hops up on the bench next to him. Joel tentatively rests one arm over the back of the bench, turning slightly towards the boy. He’s surprised when Will speaks first.

“Who are you?” Joel’s already at a loss. He opens his mouth to speak a few times, but only to shut it again when he can’t find a good answer. Will cuts off his floundering.

“Are you trying to take me?” Joel furrows his brow.

“What makes you ask that, kid?” The boy shrugs.

“People tried to take me before. But I won’t go without her.” Joel is still confused by the boy’s words. Had there been families in Jackson who had tried to adopt him? He clears his throat.

“Well, I’m not gonna take you, kid. I just wanted to meet you, she’s told me alot about you.” It’s a lie, but Will seems to accept that answer, looking down at his sneakers as he kicks them in the air.

“Do you shoot guns?” For a moment, Joel asks whatever mercy there is left in the world to give him a break, but then he answers.

“Sometimes.” Will hums at that.

“I saw her shoot guns once. It was loud.” There’s no time for Joel to respond to that, as he sees her walking back over to them. The relief is instant.

“Alright, bud. Let’s go see some horses.”

…

They walk through the town toward the stables. She’s holding the boy’s hand, and Joel is on his other side. He can see people looking a little longer at their strange trio and then, he nearly chokes on an inhale when a small hand takes his. He glances down at Will, who doesn’t even look at Joel, like holding his hand was the most natural thing in the world. Joel’s trying hard to not imagine what they look like. Like a family.

There are several foals in the grazing pen when they get to the stables, successful spring births that are now growing into the summer. Will lets go of both their hands to press up against the fence, his eyes wide as he watches the animals. Watching Will, Joel is reminded of the first time he saw horses as a boy, and he’s startled by how quickly he’s growing to like this kid. He squeezes her shoulder as she sidles up next to the boy.

“I’ll be right back.” She gives him a questioning look, but nods, becoming distracted by a peel of laughter that Will lets out when one of the foals tosses its mane back in a whinny. 

Joel heads over to the main barn and quickly finds the bucket of grain he was looking for. When he returns to them, he tentatively rests his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Will looks up at him, his face still lined with awe.

“Do you wanna see them a little closer, kid?” He knows he didn’t really have to ask, but seeing the excitement in the boy’s face is worth it. He glances at her.

“You coming?” She shakes her head, biting her lip to pin down a grin.

“You guys go on, I’ll watch.” Joel steers the boy with a palm on his back over to the gate of the pen. When they step inside the pen, Will takes Joel’s hand that isn’t holding onto the bucket, stepping back behind Joel’s legs. Noticing the intrusion, the foals are already meandering over to the pair. The closer they get, the more Will shrinks behind Joel’s hip. Joel sets the bucket down, turning and kneeling with a groan to get on the now very shy boy’s level.

“You alright, kid?” The boy shrugs. Joel brings his hand to his shoulder, giving a light squeeze.

“They’re all friendly, I promise. Just a little hungry. Here, watch.” Joel takes a handful of grain out of the bucket and holds it out in his flat palm for the closest horse. The animal lazily sidles up, nuzzling the food out of his hand. Will is watching, completely enrapt, as a smile slowly spreads across his face. The grain gone, Joel wipes his hand on his thigh before looking back at the boy.

“You wanna try?” He nods, shuffling over to the bucket and taking a handful of grain out. Joel lets the boy stand in front of him, and he brings his palm to rest under the boy’s up-turned hand as he holds out his arm for the foals. As one of the horses approaches, Will starts to back into Joel, but he puts his other hand on the boy’s shoulder, a reassurance. The giggle that Will lets out when the horse begins to eat from his palm makes Joel dizzy. He didn’t know there was joy left in this world, but he reckons that if there is, this is it. He glances over his shoulder to see her, elbows resting along the top of the fence and her chin in one of her palms. He’s not seen that kind of smile from her before. 

…

They feed the horses for a while, and Will continues to come out of his shell. By the end of their time at the stable, Joel has him stroking the foals’ manes and talking sweetly to the animals, a natural farmhand if Joel ever saw one. But as they’re walking back to the childcare center, and Will so easily holds his hand, Joel is once again startled by how quickly he slipped into this role. He’s not entirely sure if he’s comfortable with it. Sure, he looked after Ellie, but she was practically grown by the time he knew her. This is different, and it scares him. He also doesn’t understand why Will is staying at the childcare center in the first place. He’s perfect, brilliant even, if not a little shy. But then he remembers what the boy said, that he wasn’t going anywhere without her, and a whole new set of questions lights up his mind. It’s clear how much this boy means to her, and how much he loves her. But Joel knows there’s no blood relation and he’s left with no clue as to why the pair are so close. 

When they get back to the childcare center, they pause for a moment at the door and Joel’s not sure what he’s supposed to do. Will lets go of his hand, choosing instead to wrap his arms around her legs. She rubs his back. Joel can hear the boy’s murmurs though they’re muffled into her jeans.

“You’re gonna come tomorrow?” She untangles him from her legs, crouching down and holding both his hands.

“I always do, bud.” The boy huffs.

“Not always.” Joel sees the wince flash across her face, but she’s quick to hide it with a tight smile.

“Remember I told you that was just because I was in a little trouble. But I’m not gonna get in any more trouble, I promise.” Joel’s mouth gets dry, realizing exactly what “trouble” she’s referencing, but she keeps talking.

“You know, Will. It was Joel who helped me get out of that trouble.” The boy’s head whips around to look at Joel.

“You helped?” Joel swallows hard, sharing a quick look with her over the boy’s head. Her eyes are soft. He nods.

“I guess I did, yeah.” Will looks at him for just a beat longer before turning back to her.

“When are you coming tomorrow?” She laughs.

“In the afternoon, alright?” He nods, wrapping his arms around her neck for another hug before pulling away to let her stand. What Joel wasn’t expecting was for the boy to turn and wrap his arms around his legs, a hug that’s over as soon as it started.

“Thank you for showing me the horses, Joel.” The sentence comes out a bit shaky, but it still makes Joel’s heart catch. He has to clear his throat harshly before he speaks, resting his hand on Will’s shoulder again.

“You’re welcome, kid. It’s good to meet you.” With that, she takes Will’s hand and leads him inside, Joel hanging back. He’s not sure what just happened, his brain reeling in questions. He leans back against the wall of the building, scrubbing a hand down his face. He hopes she’ll have some answers. He’s startled out of his thoughts when she comes back out. He thinks she looks a bit nervous as she looks at him.

“Well, I think Will may have a new favorite.” Joel snorts at that, pressing off the wall to walk with her back to his house.

“That’s impossible, darlin. That kid is stuck to you like glue.” He catches the way her face falls at that only slightly. She clears her throat.

“I know you probably have a ton of questions. And I’d like to try to answer them, that ok with you?” He stops in his tracks to look at her, the way she’s biting her lip. He nods.

“Let’s get back to the house. You can tell me everything.”

…

They sit down at the dining table. Joel rests his elbows on the table, trying to organize his thoughts into coherent questions.

“Why– how did– what–” He takes a deep breath, trying to start over. She looks nervous. Joel clears his throat.

“From the beginning. Tell me from the beginning.” She sighs, leaning back in her chair.

“Alright, well I guess it was about two years ago now. I– we– um–” Joel is quick to take her hand in his across the table, a squeeze of reassurance. Her face softens.

“Alex and Steve and I were going on weekly raids at the time, running out and seeing what we could find. We had come across gamers before–” Joel’s brow furrows in confusion at that word and she catches it.

“You know, people who lay out bait? Someone old or injured, and then the rest of them jump you.” He nods, knowing all too well the sort of people she’s referring to.

“Well, when we saw a fucking kid in the middle of the road, we knew what we were getting ourselves into. But– I don’t know– I guess that’s my weakness– especially when they look so much like– like–” Her breath catches and Joel already knows the word, the name she’s trying to get out. He squeezes her hand again and she continues.

“Anyways, Steve and Alex stayed in the van, I got out, walked right up to him. He must’ve only been four or five? But he told me his name was Will and that he was lost. A script his adults probably told him– but I was gone, you know? This perfect little boy had me wrapped around his finger from the get-go.” She sighs, a crumpled smile across her face.

“And then, his folks appeared out of the woods on the side of the road, guns ablazing. The guys were still in the van, but I knew they had my back. I was trying to just talk to them. Told them we could work something out. Before they could even get a word in, a whole herd of infected came sprinting out of the trees. It was a fucking blur.” She pauses, taking a sharp inhale.

“His mom went down fast, god– the scream he let out– shook me to my knees. He tried to run to her but I grabbed him, hoisted him onto my back, told him to close his eyes. Steve and Alex came barreling out, took out a bunch of them, but it wasn’t enough. His dad got taken down too– there were just too many of them.” 

“It was a struggle just to get back in the van. We got knocked down by one– I was trying to hold onto him and fight this fucking thing off of us– total clusterfuck– but we made it, somehow– hauled ass out of there.” 

“He was sobbing so hard, I thought he’d pop a lung or something. Screaming for his mom– I just held him, it was all I could think to do as we drove.” She sighs, and Joel thinks he knows where this is going.

“He was bit, wasn’t he?” She presses her lips into a firm line, nodding.

“Fucker got him on his side– pfft, Steve and Alex wanted to drop him right then and there. But I– I couldn’t, Joel. Not when he– he looked so much like– god I wish I could show you a photo because it’s scary, really.” The first tears fall silently as she looks at him.

“I told them to give it a day, just give me one day to see. I sat in the van with him all night and all day while Steve and Alex camped outside. And I prayed– for the first time, I prayed– and the next day, Will still hadn’t turned.” She lets out a humorless laugh.

“I told him I would take care of him from then on, and I– I brought him home.” Joel’s trying to picture it, her stepping out of a van with a crying child in her arms for all of Jackson to see, and it finally makes sense.

“That’s why people call you the saint? What you did, when you came back? Isn’t it?” She offers him a small smile, but shakes her head.

“Not after Will. He was the first, but he wasn’t the last.” Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. She huffs.

“There was a string of kids afterwards, all the same situation. Gamer bait. Everytime I came back with another, people’s voices got a little more hushed around me, a little more reverent. That’s how that name stuck to me.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes scrunching shut.

“But Will was different?” She sighs again, squeezing Joel’s hand.

“Will was different, is different. Those other kids all got adopted. But Will– he’s mine, Joel.” He lets go of her hand, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs.

“So then– why doesn’t he– why don’t you–”

“Why don’t I keep him with me?” Joel nods. She frowns deeply, looking down at her hands now clasped on the table.

“It’s better this way. As you know I’m, uh, prone to trouble. I’ve tried to get him to go with other families, but he’s stubborn, just flat out refuses.” She shakes her head. Joel lets out a gruff exhale.

“He should be with you.” “Joel.”

“No. I know it’s not my place–”

“It’s really not.” “But, Christ, I’ve only met him once and I can tell you that you’re it for him.”

“So I should just have him shack up with me and Alex and Steve then?” 

“No, he would stay with us, here.” Joel is saying it before he even knows what he’s doing. Her eyes widen at that. He knows it’s presumptuous as hell, not even sure if he’s ready to take something on like that. But, he figures, for her he’d get ready. She stays silent and he lets out another huff.

“Family should be together, that’s what I think.” She sighs at that, dragging a hand through her hair. Joel swallows thickly before continuing.

“I know you don’t like me saying this, but there’s no need for you to be– prone to trouble– like you say.” She scoffs at his words.

“Joel.” He brings his palms flat down on the table, standing his ground.

“No. You– you’re not disposable, darlin. And you’re not somebody’s science experiment, seeing how many times you can take it and get back up. Goddamnit, there are people here who– who need you.” He gulps an inhale after finishing speaking. It’s the truth, and it frightens him. Her eyes are still wide, not leaving his. He sighs and continues.

“Look, you’re gonna do what you want to, lord knows. But– family should be together– s’what I believe.” He seems to have left her speechless, her eyes searching his face. She finally clears her throat, rubbing her palms down her thighs before standing. She shuffles over to stand between his legs, bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders. He lets his palms drop heavily on her hips.

“That’s a lot to take in, Miller.” He huffs, looking up at her.

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, darlin.” She smiles faintly dipping down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, but when she stands back up Joel can see the worried crease between her brows.

“I’ll think about what you said, really. Thank you for letting me, um, share him with you.” Joel smiles broadly at that, nodding and squeezing her hips. 

“Can I ask who else knows? About Will being like you?” She lets out a long exhale.

“Just the guys, and Maria. She thought I was crazy when I brought him back, but she helped me keep it secret, keep him safe. And now I guess you know as well.” Joel nods, slowly standing and sliding his hands up to cup her jaw, laying a kiss on her lips.

“I’m on your team, darlin. That means I’m on his too.” She smiles, leaning in for another kiss before pulling back and rubbing her palms up his chest.

“I’m really glad I’ve got you, Joel Miller.”

…

“Alright, kid. You ready?” Ellie nods to Alex who gives a few experimental buzzes of his makeshift tattoo gun before dipping it down to her forearm and getting to work. Joel can’t believe he’s letting her do this. When she had asked - more like told - him about getting a tattoo over the scars on her arm, Joel had balked immediately, a firm no on the tip of his tongue. Just as they started to argue about it at the dining table, she had come in, his woman, bandage gone from her arm where she had been bitten and a fresh design scrawled over it, a hare mid-leap across the length of her forearm. With some backup, Ellie had won that argument, but with the stipulation that Joel needed to be there when it happened. He wasn’t sure why that made him feel better, maybe a false sense of control. But now, watching Alex get to work, Joel finds himself getting a bit queasy at the sight.

It’s clear to him that Ellie is trying to look tough, biting her lip and furrowing her brow as she looks anywhere but at Alex’s work. Joel leans forward from his chair at their kitchen table and squeezes her knee, doing his best to offer her a small smile and firm nod that it’s alright. Both of their attention is drawn away from the ever-buzzing gun as someone clears their throat, their heads whipping around to see her leaning up against the doorframe.

“How’s it coming along, kid?” Before Ellie can respond to her question, Alex is chiming in, eyes still focused on his work.

“Sitting like a champ. A lot less squirmy than you are.” She scoffs, pressing up off the doorframe to step closer, bending over a bit to get a better look at Alex’s work as she rests her hand on Joel’s shoulder. Meanwhile, Ellie has a proud grin spread wide across her face. She smiles back at the girl.

“It looks great, Ellie. Gonna look even cooler than me.” That makes Ellie laugh, effectively distracting her from Alex’s continued needling. Watching them interact, Joel swears his heart swells at the sight, how easily she seems to be able to talk with Elliel, and how clear Ellie’s admiration for his woman is. 

Joel is jolted out of his fond musings when she gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Is it alright if I steal him for a second?” Ellie snorts, nodding lightly.

“Uh, yeah. He’s the one making me all nervous.” Joel huffs at that, grumbling at the kid’s smug expression as he gets up. Before he follows her out, he thinks better of it, turning around and clearing his throat to get Alex’s attention.

“Forearm only. I don’t want her coming home with any other ink, understand?” Ellie rolls her eyes, but Alex nods.

“Heard, Miller. No wandering tattoo gun.” Satisfied with his response, Joel turns back to his woman, following her to what had been her room in the house she shared with Alex and Steve. 

He still remembers the day they spoke in here, after he found out about her immunity. It looks a bit different now. Most of her books have been moved back over to his place, along with her clothes. There’s hardly anything in the room now, just a lamp and a mattress on the floor with no sheets on it. His heart kicks up at the thought that this isn’t her home anymore, not really. Her home is with him.

She sits down on the edge of the mattress and Joel joins her with a groan, leaning back on his hands as he studies her.

“What’s going on?” She rests her cheek on her shoulder, turning to look at him.

“I thought some more about what we talked about. About Will.” Joel nods, but stays silent. That conversation happened two weeks ago now, but this is the first time she brings it up again. He knew better than to press her about it, that she’d come to him when she was ready to talk more. He knows her now. Knows when to speak, and when to stay silent. When to press, and when to let her come to it in her own time.

She lets out a long sigh before continuing.

“I think you’re right, Joel. I want Will with me– with us.” He feels his eyebrows shoot straight up his forehead at her words. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected her to so easily agree with him. It’s not like she ever had before. But he doesn’t voice that particular thought, instead leaning forward to wrap his arm around her shoulder and lay a kiss at her temple.

“Think that’s a good idea, darlin. How does this all work then? How do we get him?” She leans a little further into his side, head resting on his bicep.

“Usually, when folks– adopt, I guess– there’s a trial period. The kid might spend a few nights with the family, make sure the situation will work out. I guess that’s our next step.” Joel’s mind gets stuck on the word family, repeating it until it’s flooding his whole system. She takes his other hand in both of hers, keeping her eyes trained there as she runs her fingers over his knuckles.

“I asked Maria to start rotating me into shifts at the stables. Gonna be doing less patrol work. Less trouble, you know?” Hearing this is when Joel knows that she really means what she’s telling him, that she really wants this, wants them, and wants Will. He pulls back slightly, coaxing her to look up at him.

“Less trouble is good. It’ll be good for him too. To have you closer to home.” He takes a breath, and then says something else before he can really think about it.

“Think Ellie will like having a little brother.” It’s presumptuous as hell, and he worries that he’s crossed a line by saying it, but the bright smile she offers him is quick to calm his nerves. 

“I think so too.” She squeezes his hand in hers, and he squeezes back.

“I just hope I can be good for him.” It’s the sweetest, simplest thing he’s ever heard her say and he can’t help but dip down to press a kiss to her lips.

“You will be. We will be. Together.” 

[austinslounge]

Ok wait, so K has been in LA for almost a month, doing some work, mostly partying and enjoying the rich life, meanwhile I'm supposed to believe she couldn't find the time to be with her bf, who she's supposedly end game with? And Matt Smith went to that Halloween party but not Austin? I know he's busy, but c'mon. If you actually want to be with your significant other, you find the time. Even when she was in NYC, she was going out with all sorts of people all the time, had some compromising things come out as well, but only one sad little papwalk with her ACTUAL bf? And since she left NYC the only thing to come out from the media was, that her parents basically want Austin to commit or get gone...and he followed the publication, that wrote the article??? Also, interestingly, deuxmoi has not posted any sightings of her or him since that whole cheating rumor+concert fiasco. I know couples can be busy and don't need to be together 24/7, but even when they're in the same city, it seems like they're living separate lives. There has been a clear shift since September, I think it would just be best for them to pull the plug.

On a side note, I was just curious how it went down with Zoe and Channing, basically in the beginning of October they were still together at some playin NYC, then I think he went filming somewhere, she was wearing her engagement ring I think a week ago, then the announcement came...just goes to show, things can end in a flash. I read they "grew apart", which is I think a common thing celebs say to not have to tell all the details of a breakup, which is fair. I suspect we'll get similar reasoning for A&K once they break up.

Yup!

😅

And yea, Matt Smith being there is pretty interesting, especially seeing as how he was filming with Austin in NYC not too long ago.

This is getting really interesting.

I'll see if Matt returns to set in NYC. If he does, that will be very interesting indeed. 🤔

Wrt to Zoe and Channing -- Isn't that a shocker? 😵‍💫 That just goes to show just how quickly things in a relationship can change. I honestly didn't expect them to break up this year. And definitely not so suddenly. Maybe I didn't expect them to be endgame (anything can happen btwn the time a couple is engaged, to the time they actually walk down the aisle), but I guess I just assumed that if they were ever having any issues, we would have long-since seem since little signs here and there first before they just completely split up. Ykwim?

That just goes to show just how quickly things can change. The same thing happened with Austin and Vanessa. No warning. No signs. They were spotted on the red carpet together looking fine. Then BAM!! Breakup.

I assume the same thing will happen when Austin and Kaia are officially announced as no longer being together anymore. It will probably come like a thief in the night and take everyone by surprise on the day that it happens lol. 😅 We, of course, won't be all that surprised, because we've been calling out the weirdness of their relationship for over a year now. But others in the general public will probably be shocked Iol. 🤭

I'm sure they'll blame the Kaustin breakup on "time constraints" or "distance", but we'll know that's just a fluff excuse lol.

[sunflowers-and-cigarettes831]

Hi. These are a few snippets from a fic I was working on several months ago and then haven’t touched all summer. Basic summary is that Steve inherited a horse ranch and training business when his mom died, but before she died, she signed to take on a guy that’s on probation and give him a job. Bucky shows up at Steve’s door not long after Sarah dies, and now Steve has to deal with his mother’s death, learning how to keep the ranch afloat, and the feelings he’s beginning to develop about his new, fresh-out-of-jail farm hand.

If this post gets like… 10 notes I’ll start working on it again.

—————————————————————————

Steve opens the door before he has a chance to knock. The boy looks momentarily caught off guard before schooling his expression back into the same sullen look he’d had when got out of the truck.

Steve looked up at him. “Can I help you?”

“My name is Buc- James. I’m looking for some chick named-” He dug around in his pocket, producing a scrap of paper and reading off of it. “-Sarah Rogers?”

Steve felt a sharp pang in his heart, but kept his expression neutral. “My mother.”

“Is she around?” The kid-James- looked past him, deeper into the house.

“She died two months ago.”

The look on James’s face softened just a fraction. Steve hated that look. “I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Then, uh…who’s in charge here?”

—————————————————————————

He was just screwing the last board down when a vehicle came up the driveway. He turned, ready to chew out Bucky, but instead was met with a black sedan rolling to a stop in front of the house. He stood up, brushing the dirt off his knees and approached the car.

A man stepped out of the car. He was much taller than Steve and- to Steve’s shock- wore an eyepatch. He fought to keep his expression friendly as he held his hand out.

“Hey, I’m Steve. How can I help you?”

The man shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Steve. I’m Nick Fury, James’s parole officer.”

“Ah, yes, he’s told me about you. He’s not here right now, unfortunately. He went into town just a little while ago.”

“That’s no worry, I’m not here to see him. I need to talk to you about signing to take over as his sponsor.”

—————————————————————————

Nick took a sip of his coffee before speaking. “So, James Barnes. How’s he been working out?”

Steve hesitated, remembering their last conversation. “It’s been going well. He’s having a bit of trouble settling in, but nothing we haven’t been able to handle.”

Nick looked at him seriously, the expression eerily similar to the one Natasha had given him. “You don’t have to sponsor him. I can take him back and find somewhere else to place him. He can be difficult to handle.”

Steve glanced quickly at the file between them. “Take him back where? Like to the group home?” He didn’t like the way Nick was talking about Bucky, as if he were a stray dog that Steve could just send back if they weren’t getting along. He felt a surge of protectiveness. “No, I’ll sponsor him.”

Nick looked at him for a long moment. “Don’t make a decision yet. Think about it. I’ll be back in a few days.”

—————————————————————————

Dinner that night was pan seared steak, which Bucky helped make. Well, tried to help make. It was clear that the boy had no idea how to prepare steak, but Steve appreciated the effort nonetheless. They ate at the kitchen table over amicable chatter about the horses and chores that needed to be done. Steve was painfully aware of the way they kept the conversation away from anything too personal.

—————————————————————————

Before long, both horses were nearly ready to go. Steve was preparing to swing the saddle up onto Dallas’s back when he heard Bucky snickering. He turned to face him, still holding the saddle. “What’s so funny?”

Bucky slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. “It’s just that, well, you barely come up to his shoulder.”

Steve huffed, turning away and heaving the saddle onto Dallas’s back. “Well, he’s a big horse.” He grumbled. “Nearly seventeen hands.”

“Hands?” Bucky watched Steve tighten the cinch, then put the bridle on.

“Go grab a helmet so we can get going. Then I’ll explain it to you.”

Getting going turned out taking a little longer than anticipated. Once Bucky found a helmet that fit him, it was time for them to mount up. Except- Bucky just couldn’t figure out how to do it.

“Look-” Steve was exasperated.” Just get up on the mounting block, put your left foot in the stirrup, hold onto the saddle horn, and swing your right leg over.”

“I’m trying!” Bucky huffed.

“I’m just-” Steve sighed. “I’m just going to give you a hand. Try again.”

Bucky once again tried to hoist himself into the saddle, but this time, Steve put a hand on his ass to steady him and used the other hand to guide his leg over the back of the saddle.

—————————————————————————

They left the barn, heading off into the woods. Steve looped his reins around his saddle horn and let go of them, letting Skylla take the lead. He twisted in his saddle to watch Bucky.

“Hey, relax. Let your hips move with him. Loosen your lower back and ride him, don’t just sit there.”

“Let your hips move with him.” Bucky parroted, glancing at Steve and muttered. “Bet you’re real good at that.”

Steve bristled. “If that’s a fuckin joke about-”

Bucky interrupted him, holding a placating hand up. “Whoa, whoa, sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Hearing the ‘whoa’, Dallas stopped. The boys looked at him for a moment, then at each other, and burst out laughing. Any tension that was there a moment before disappeared.

—————————————————————————

The next morning, when Steve went out for breakfast, Bucky was already sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. His hair was pulled back into its usual bun, and his piercings were already in. It all looked very out of place when put together with his button-up work shirt and jeans. Steve stifled a smile.

He poured himself a cup of coffee. “Mornin’.”

Bucky just grunted in response, shoving a bite of eggs into his mouth.

“You’ve become quite the early bird.” Steve tried again. Bucky gave him a flat look before returning to his eggs. Steve gave up on the conversation. He turned the stove on, then wiped down the pan that was sitting out on the counter and scrambled himself some eggs.

—————————————————————————

The meeting didn’t last much longer. By the time Nick left, papers in hand, Bucky still hadn’t returned and Steve was sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. That’s where he stayed until he heard the front door open. He looked up.

Bucky was standing in the doorway, dufflebag in hand and looking sheepish. “Hey.”

[duchessofostergotlands]

Just read your last post on autism and well you sound like me. I don't even have a diagnosis because it could stop me from becoming a public servant which I want to be (governmental prejuidice is amazing, isn't it?). However, I also have ADHD as a possible side "quest" on my laundry list. Everything I learned about it in women in recent years screams my experience. However, no one thought to test me because I did academically well like you in school and didn't have issues conforming to classroom rules. Back then you had to be a boy, running around constantly and failing classes to even get a consideration for ADHD here. No one saw that school was my own personal dopamine farm and that I constantly quietly fidgeted with something.

Idk where I'm going with this here but yeah I just felt seen by your post. I think I want a diagnosis eventually after I got my public servant position but I'm also scared of looking for one. Because what if it isn't depression, autism, ADHD and/or even BPD? What if I'm just a lazy slob that peaked in school and someone who is just easily distracted and not great at social interactions I haven't played through in my head a thousand times before?

Hello :) The internet can be a terrible thing but the best part of it is there will be someone, somewhere, who has experienced what you are experiencing. So yes, totally relate to what you're saying. I have similar thoughts all the time. "Maybe I'm just lazy, maybe I'm just sensitive, maybe I'm just a bitch" lol. To be honest I think genuinely lazy people probably don't ever think about the fact they're lazy or get upset about it so it's probably an indication you're not. Like I often think "am I actually a good person?" but I don't think genuinely bad people ever consider that!

I did see something helpful a little while ago. The comedian Aisling Bea did an interview where she talked about her ADHD and the shame she felt when she believed she was just lazy. She said that she loves acting and she can get given a script and learn three pages of dialogue over night - her dialogue and everyone else's - and people are astonished. But you give her a simple task like filling in a form and she just can't do it. I suspect you might find you're the same way. If someone gives you a task you enjoy or find value in then you can probably do it more quickly and to a higher standard than other people. You are capable of hard work. But if it's a task you don't enjoy or think is pointless you will feel like there's some kind of forcefield stopping you from doing it. I also think if it was just laziness, if it was a choice, then no one would ever choose to be lazy about things which are detrimental to them. The call it took me 3 months to make was to register with a doctor. It was really important, it was harmful to me to not have a doctor, and yet I couldn't do it. If I could have gone online and done the whole process there I would have. But I couldn't do it because I had to make a phone call which I struggle with. So if you 1) find that you are capable of putting in hard work in certain things and 2) find that the kinds of tasks you struggle with are important tasks and not doing them is potentially detrimental to you, it isn't just laziness. I think it comes out in a lot of women when we leave school because we don't have structure, routine, someone caring for us. The fact so many neurodivergent women were high achievers in school and burnt out later in life is not a coincidence!

But also, something I don't see talked about that much is how sometimes we are lazy but that laziness is a totally natural response to how exhausting it is to be neurodivergent. Having to be constantly aware of how you talk, how you sit, how you write all day to fit in with a world that you don't fully understand but you know if you get it wrong you could lose your job, your home, everything. The stress, the anxiety, the energy involved in that. After years and years of dealing with this, you are going to crash. So when we do have a rare good day where we feel energised, sometimes we choose to do the fun thing instead of the task we have to do. Other people can be productive because they know that they will probably have the chance to be lazy later in the day or the next day or the next week. Whereas I don't know when I'll next have that opportunity. So sometimes we are being "lazy" but it's to try and repair the years and years of exhaustion and anxiety and stress that has built up! Other people are allowed to be occasionally lazy but we punish ourselves for it so much.

[grooviestsadpapaya]

i went down a rabbit hole of your au like a month ago and I still have brainrot from it like holy crap man I think about it everyday I literally start kicking my legs whenever I see an update why am i like this

but anyways, the various species in your au have caught my interest for a while. Since I’m assuming this takes place somewhere after totk I’m wondering how the other races have come back into play (like the zonai, twili, etc)

also is bestir actually a reincarnation of demise in this au or did he just coincidentally end up with the triforce of power?

luckily for you I am also starved of human interaction :)

First of all aw :] tanks <3333

I’m glad you like my little guys! The Twili live in the depths of Hyrule, supersuper deep underground, alongside the Shadows and some weird flora and fauna. Zant rules over them, using the brutality of the Shadows to act as like a uhhh. Really shitty law enforcement system. They typically get to around 13 ft tall and 115 lbs on average (they are super light). They can communicate in secrecy via the intensity and rhythmic flashing of their bioluminescence. Kinda like uhh if you’ve read Wings of Fire they’re like Seawings. They have a similar lifespan to Zoras, if not longer. Here’s a sketch if you don’t know what they look like, I don’t post about them a lot. They usually have livestock and live vegetarian lifestyles due to frequent food shortages. The way they got into the depths (I refer to them as the Chasms in soh, jsyk) is a spoiler so :] I cry everytime

So the Zonai are a bit spoiler-y if I talk about them too much but they are like. The opposite of the Twili. They are very technologically sophisticated and independent but not very agriculturally advanced and live in the sky. Instead of fearing Kargaroks like the people of the surface do, they worship them. They live alongside the ooccoo. Yeah, the tiddy birds. I gotta design them too. Damn.

The Kokiri and Koroks live alongside one another, the Kokiri acting more like guardians of the forest rather than peaceful inhabitants. They look hella scary but are generally kindhearted and pure. They are… also spoilery.

And yes Bestir is an incarnation of Ganondorf! Instead of falling into the divine influence of Demise, he favors Din because that’s just what his moms taught him. Idk it’s confusing I’m not great at storytelling

[quihi]

Okay, overall thoughts on Fablehaven and Dragonwatch. I hope to write in more detail later - I have a first draft of a post about my take on some of the religious themes and allegory in Dragonwatch - but I gotta start somewhere (that requires less citations).

I saw Carnival Quest on the library shelf last November, read that, and had so much fun I decided to go for more Brandon Mull and reread Fablehaven. (I don't read a lot of kids books, as an adult, but I hadn't felt like reading in awhile and this made reading fun.) The first book was rough, honestly—it was his first published book and it shows. The prose felt clunky and awkward, but I got used to it and it improved. Seth drove me insane—so much of the plot was driven by "Seth screws up." But it was a quick and easy and fun read, and the world and concept were a delight!

Books 2–4 were great. I only read the books once or twice over ten years ago, so all I remembered was the general concept, a little about Kendra and Seth, and a vague idea of the final battle. I got to experience all the twists again! It was very fun to see the people who populate this increasingly large world, and the people around the edges like that rich couple in Georgia who have fairies but have never seen a preserve. Like, how did they get involved, how much do they know? It's clear that Kendra and Seth are way more deeply involved than someone who just discovered the preserves normally would be. I have a lot of thoughts about their parents and how Fablehaven fits in with their lives, and I think I think about that a lot more as an adult—it doesn't bother me but I find it more sad now.

Keys to the Demon Prison was big, and wow did we see the world. It added a lot of stuff that hadn't felt foreshadowed at all—the Eternals, Vasilis, Bracken—so it felt a little disconnected and like there were some deus ex machina. I liked the ending, though, and how everything wrapped up with swapping the demon prison and the fairy realm.

So, fun series! They definitely felt like kids books, but I would still recommend them to kids and adults who want to read a fun, magical adventure.

After this, life got busy, and I needed a break, and time to let the books sink in and read a few other books, so I didn't start Dragonwatch until January. I raced through the first three books, then took about a week off before I could get myself past the beginning of Champion of the Titan Games, then finished the series in under a week. They got so frustrating and dark that I needed that break, but I'm glad I didn't force myself to keep reading when I was worn out.

Okay, look, I know this seems to be an unpopular opinion, but I enjoyed them. I don't know if it helped because I read them all in under a month and didn't think too hard or reread them in between, and I hadn't been eagerly awaiting them—I don't think much about Mull or keep up with his new books. I didn't notice a lot of the continuity errors that I guess were there, though I did notice the big thematic change from darkness being neutral to being more evil (though I have some thoughts on that, too). There were definitely some weird choices. The structure of book five felt very similar to Fablehaven's book five.

I liked Knox and Tess. I see reasons they would be introduced, and while they could have done more (Tess: spends entire series as the innocent girl, gets teleported around a couple times but never to anywhere from which she can get home), I couldn't help liking them. They're decent foils for Kendra and Seth, at least. I think I'd have liked more of them, over cutting them. I badly wanted Knox and Seth to sit down for a good conversation about mistakes and forgiveness.

One of the story choices that baffled or irritated me most was not putting Marat or Agad back in charge of Wyrmroost, after Celebrant lost his status. I guess the best argument is there wasn't time between them returning from Stormguard Castle and Seth's disappearance, and the explicit consent of both Kendra and Seth was needed, but like, that should have been the first thing they did. I guess no one thought of it. And I suppose there was still the issue of no easy way to leave.

There was a lot of religion, which I began to notice in Master of the Phantom Isle, and was surprisingly blatant in Return of the Dragon Slayers. Religious themes in books don't bother me, though I know that's a YMMV topic and I understand why some people don't like it. (Thank you to the Fablehaven fandom for, as far as I can tell, not getting into absolute hatred of Christianity.) But, well, they were still overall the fun adventures that I was reading for, even as they got more sad and the character arcs got deeper. I'm glad I finished and read through the whole series.

I was left with a lot to think about. I have ideas for fanfiction. Mostly canon compliant, set after Dragonwatch, with some earlier, and also one romance AU that I'm worried about people's reactions to the ship. I'm buying a lot of the books to reference more easily, since I like referencing books when I write and I'm no longer twelve years old with the time and urge to flip through and reread books a dozen times until I know every plot point by heart by the time I return them to the library, but I do have more disposable income.

So, uh, I'm not really one to rate books, but I'd still call these solid and fun overall, though they have their flaws. I far prefer enjoying books to criticizing them, so I'd rather like them and try to find ideas and headcanons that improve them, rather than linger on the elements I dislike. I want to be positive!

[duckadee]

it’s been a while, but i have returned! i had a good time finding songs for this prompt (memories/nostalgia), and maybe i got a little teary/sappy when i was compiling the playlists and writing my thoughts down. i guess their story just does that to me, haha. the power of friendship got to me! honestly, this theme and the one after it were the most impactful for me. now, onto the list!

Somewhere Only We Know by Keane

My Old Friend by Sam Amidon

7 Years by Lukas Graham

Turn the Lights Back On by Billy Joel

This Town by Niall Horan

Least Complicated by Indigo Girls

Four Strong Winds by Neil You g

here’s the playlist, and my thoughts are under the cut!

Four Strong Winds

I didn’t really have any specific lyrics from this song, but I wanted to talk about it anyway. To me, this song is about holding onto hope that a relationship can survive and evolve into something new even though it seems over. Similar to how Ian and Anthony’s relationship had to dissolve so that it could change and come back better.

My Old Friend

Honestly, these lines made me think of so many things. Ian keeping the pictures of him and Anthony up, Anthony getting teary eyed over realizing that his childhood best friend was still there, the fact that they’ve known each other since 6th grade… Additionally, I like the last line here: ‘We’ll meet again, my old friend’. It’s sort of like a seed being planted, that eventually grows into them reuniting years later.

Turn the Lights Back On

I’ve actually had this song in my back pocket for a bit; I heard it when I came out and thought, ‘That sounds like an ianthony song, I should do something with it,’ and then I forgot about it. Until now!

This part ties back into the prompt for the first day (resentment). It represents how the resentment has changed over time into guilt, and then into acceptance, and finally into forgiveness and love. ALSO, it got me thinking about how Ian and Anthony never really stopped caring about each other, even with other emotions clouding their view for a little bit.  I’ll have to look for it, but it reminds me of an ianthony post that said something like, “love doesn’t die, but it can rot”. I’ve been thinking about that ever since I read it months ago.