#i trusted you uncle rick

[celestialtitania]

okay but reconcile this hades for me, who immediately upon learning kronos might return, insists percy ask him for sanctuary. immediately thought to PROTECT this kid in front of him. how this hades would ever and i mean EVER try to lock him in a cell so his own, much younger, son can take on the brunt of a prophecy that clearly states the hero will die. i just...no. tv hades would never.

tv hades needs his cabin for his kids, his wife, and a lot of rest. his rejection of being part of the war? social anxiety, and that's fine. but he would never want his kid to be the prophecy kid.

[steddieasitgoes]

Eddie, who, as a child, struggled with making decisions, so Wayne gifted him a Magic 8 ball that he could turn to for guidance. Eddie spends most of his childhood carrying around the Magic 8 Ball, using it to decide between mac and cheese (ask again later) or chicken strips (signs point to yes) at lunch or whether he should go talk to the new kid Gareth (without a doubt). 

Eddie slowly starts to make his own decisions but keeps onto the Magic 8 Ball for important, life-changing questions. He asks if he should drop out of school after failing his first senior year (my reply is no) and then again if he should repeat said senior year (it is decidedly so). He even asks if he should start working for Reefer Rick (reply hazy, try again) -- it’s the one time he chose to ignore the ball’s advice. 

Unfortunately, Eddie doesn’t have his Magic 8 Ball on him when the witch hunt starts. He wishes he could ask it if all this hiding and running is going to be worth it. But for once, Eddie has to rely on his own decisions. So he keeps going. Lets Dustin and his friends take him under their wing and protect him. Has to trust that Nancy’s plan is going to work and that Steve is going to make Vecna pay when he nods his head at his request. 

It’s hard trusting other people without having something to double check the universe’s whims on, but he has no choice. 

When he survives and gets sent to the hospital, the Magic 8 Ball is one of the first thing he asks Uncle Wayne to bring him from home. The first question he asks: was any of it real (without a doubt). Oh, how he wishes it was all a dream.

The second question he asks later when he’s all alone: will I get over my crush on Steve (very doubtful). Not pleased with the answer, Eddie pushes the Magic 8 Ball aside and rolls his eyes. What does it know anyway? 

As his recovery continues, Eddie comes to rely on his Magic 8 Ball less and less because he has a group of friends around him who are there to offer their guidance. The Magic 8 ball stays perched on the small hospital table though, always in reach if he needs it. 

He nearly tells Wayne to take it home one night, but he’s glad he doesn’t because in the morning he wakes to find Steve shaking the ball in his hands. 

“Didn’t strike you as a Magic 8 ball kind of guy, Harrington,” Eddie teases, voice thick with sleep and whatever drugs are still coursing through his body. 

“M’not usually, but I needed a little guidance with this question.” 

“Oh yeah? And what does the magic ball say?” 

“It just says yes.”

"Ah, the most definitive of Magic 8 Ball answers.” 

“So I should trust it then?” 

“That depends,” Eddie says, stretching out on the uncomfortable hospital bed. “What did you ask it?”

"I asked it if I could kiss you.” 

Without thinking, Eddie sits up and snatches the Magic 8 Ball from Steve’s hands. He ducks his head, closes his eyes, and mouths his question before violently shaking the Magic 8 Ball. 

It is certain.

“What did you ask it?” Steve asks, stepping closer to Eddie’s hospital bed.

“If you were being serious.” 

“And? What did it say?” 

Eddie turns the Magic 8 Ball so Steve can see the little triangle floating. When he looks up, he sees Steve barely containing the smile breaking out on his face. 

“Guess you better kiss me, Harrington,” Eddie teases. “Don’t want to upset the Magic 8 Ball gods.”

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince (3)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two | Three (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One | Two Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two | Three Leverage Crew One

So that Suicide Squad Isekai anime huh (it's great, I love it actually)

Anyway, I'll be playing fast and loose with Batman canon so all the batkids can be around at the same time have fun with that cuz I did (also forgive me if anyone is a little too OOC; i'm here for a good time not a long time), and the little flashback bit will continue in the next parts as Steve meets more batkids ^_^

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't UwU

----

Harley drops him off at Wayne Manor just after ten in the morning. She tugs a window open, carries him inside, kisses him on the forehead, and promises to pick him up in a week before climbing back out. Steve watches her until she's past the gate, clutching a Green Lantern plush his mother insisted he carry around because it'll annoy his Uncle Bruce.

Steve glances down at the plush, wishing his mother didn't have to go off on a mission when she'd just gotten out of Arkham two months ago. His wishes won't actually change anything, though, so he might as well make the best of his week with Uncle Bruce.

He turns on his heel, taking in the plain bedroom that will probably become his for the next few days. He holds the Green Lantern plush close and marches to the door, stepping out into the hall and choosing a random direction to walk in.

According to his mother, Wayne Manor can have anywhere between two and ten people staying in it at one time. She told him that Dick would be the most welcoming, if not the most confused, the girls would be the most fun, and Damien would be the most guarded, likely to consider him a threat for his entire stay.

It's just his luck that the first person he runs into is Damien. The other boy drops from the ceiling, blade of his sword glinting in the light as it comes to a stop just against Steve's neck. Steve freezes, glancing down at the sharp edge as Damien says, "Think very carefully before answering. Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?"

Steve looks away from the sword, tilting his head slightly as he shrugs. "I'm Steve. I'm staying here for a week," he says.

Damien's eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, adjusting his arms so the katana doesn't move. "Says who? Does Father know you're here? Are you a spy sent by my mother?"

"Says my mom. Maybe. No," Steve replies.

A few more seconds pass before Damien hums. "Who's your mother?"

"Harley."

"Quinn?"

"Is there another?"

Slowly, Damien lowers the sword. "I suppose Quinn is somewhat reformed. How old are you?" he asks.

"Almost six."

"So, you're five," Damien says, nodding once. He sheathes his sword, apparently deciding Steve is no threat to him. "That makes me older than you, so you have to do what I say. Consider me your big brother for the week."

"Are you gonna make me hurt myself?"

"No."

"Mom said you wouldn't like me."

"Father said I should try being more trusting and welcoming. You are small and untrained, like a puppy. I could dismember you before you hurt me, which makes you ideal for practicing," Damien explains. He's quiet for a few seconds before getting a slight smirk. "Besides, it will greatly annoy my brothers if you obviously prefer me over them."

"I'm great at pretending as long as we can do fun stuff, too."

"Then we have a deal. You will act like I'm your favorite, and I will make sure you have fun."

Steve considers this, decides Damien is well on his way to actually being Steve's favorite, and steps closer. "Mom said Alfred makes the best cookies. Can we have some?"

"Yes," Damien says, "If you're hungry, then it's my responsibility to feed you as your big brother."

He offers his hand, seeming unsure when Steve takes it, like he isn't used to this kind of contact. Still, he doesn't pull away; he just hesitantly squeezes Steve's hand before leading him down the hall.

----

Not two days ago, Steve was telling himself he'd never set foot in Hawkins High School. Now, after getting the run down on the Upside Down (and holy shit did this place suddenly get a thousand times more interesting), Steve decides he'll just have to brave the brick walls to get Eddie out.

He leans forward on his motorcycle, arms resting on the handlebars as he looks up at the building. There's an American flag waving in the wind, faded paint on the outside, and security so lax it'd be suspicious in Gotham. Steve briefly considers leaving his helmet on, but he settles for placing it on the seat once he's off the motorcycle.

Walking into the school is easy. He doesn't even get stopped by the receptionist at the front desk. She just waves him in without looking up from her book. So, yeah, getting in is easy; figuring out where Eddie is might be a little harder.

He wanders the halls and stops the first student he sees, a girl with short brown hair carrying an unwieldy instrument case in her arms. Steve places his hands on the case and gently pushes down, flashing a grin when he can finally see her face. "Uh, can I help you?" she asks, her tone implying she very much does not want to help him.

"Yeah, I'm looking for someone," Steve says.

Her nose wrinkles slightly in disgust. "Listen, dingus, if this is some kind of pick-up line dare, save it," she says, rolling her eyes. She takes a step back and Steve follows.

"Nope, definitely not," he says, "You're not my type, sorry."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, unless you're not a girl...," he says, voice trailing off and eyebrow raising as he watches her understand his meaning.

She blinks, her shoulders rising some. She glances around, confirms the hallway is still empty, and relaxes. "Word of advice," she says, "don't just say that shit where anyone can hear. People aren't exactly nice about it around here."

Steve flashes a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I can take care of myself, but thanks. Anyway, still looking for someone."

"Oh, right, uh, what's their name?"

"Eddie Munson. Know him?"

She blinks again, her eyebrows shooting up in slight disbelief. "Yeah, I know him. Whatcha need him for? He doesn't usually sell until after school."

Oh. Steve hums softly, filing away that tidbit of information for later. "Not here to buy. I'm here to take him somewhere fun," he says.

A few seconds pass in which the girl looks at Steve, drops her gaze to the instrument case between them, and then glances around the empty hall. "Well, shit, man, I wanna go somewhere fun, too."

Steve considers her for a moment, trying to figure out the logistics of fitting her and Eddie on his bike. Well, he can just have her sit on the handlebars or something. "Okay, but the instrument won't fit," he tells her.

The grin he gets in return tells him that won't be a problem. "Name's Robin, by the way."

This has to be fate, right?

"Steve. Nice to meetcha, Robin."

Robin's grin gets even wider, and Steve knows they'll be great friends.

---

"Eddie usually sits in a corner," Robin says, standing at the edge of the cafeteria with Steve. It's teeming with life, and Steve hears snippets of conversations that blur into one dull roar that settles over the space. It reminds him of bars in Gotham even more than the actual bars he's visited here in Hawkins.

He can't see into the corners from here, but that doesn't bother him. "Wait here," he says, flashing a grin at Robin before walking to a mostly empty table. He climbs onto it, reaches into one of his jacket's inner pockets, and pulls out an air horn.

Steve waits long enough to see Robin cover her ears before raising the horn in the air and pressing down. It blares through the room, drowning out conversations and forcing people at the surrounding tables to cover their ears. A few more seconds pass before Steve lets up on the horn, grinning widely at the sea of eyes turned towards him.

"I'm looking for Eddie Munson," he says, twirling the air horn in the palm of his hand.

Instead of a verbal answer, he watches as the eyes turn from him to a corner across the room. A few people even duck close to their tables to clear Steve's line of sight, allowing him to see a confused Eddie sitting with his friends.

Steve grins, pockets the air horn, and starts making his way across the cafeteria. He walks on tables, jumps between them, and narrowly avoids stepping on more than one tray along the way. By the time he reaches Eddie's table, most of the students have gone back to their lunches and conversations.

"How's it going, Eds?" Steve asks, crouching in front of Eddie with a grin. He glances at the other boys by him, notes the identical Hellfire Club shirts, and nods in acknowledgement.

"Better now," Eddie says, his startled blink telling Steve he definitely didn't mean to say that out loud.

Steve somehow grins wider. "Wanna make like a banana and split? I've got somewhere fun in mind," he says, popping up from his crouch before hopping off the table and into the narrow space between Eddie's chair and his friend's.

"Dude, really?" one of his friends asks. "We have a session today."

Eddie looks torn at that realization, halfway standing and stuck like that. "That we do, Gare-bear," he says, defeat bringing his shoulders down.

"In that case, consider this a kidnapping," Steve tells them, grabbing Eddie's hand and pulling him up. He wraps his arm around Eddie's shoulders, winks at his friends, and promises, "I'll have him home before six, though."

Eddie's friends exchange glances, and Steve graciously pretends not to notice the puppy dog eyes Eddie aims at them. After a few seconds, one of them stands up, towering over Steve and outweighing him by a good bit. He clears his throat, glances at the other two, and tries to sound intimidating as he says, "Make it five thirty, and no funny business."

Steve nods and offers a mocking two-finger salute. "Yes, sir," he replies, flashing a grin before taking Eddie's bag from his seat and dragging him to where Robin is waiting.

"So, where are you kidnapping me to?" Eddie asks, managing to stick close to Steve despite having to weave through chairs and tables.

"Nothing special, really. Just an abandoned laboratory in the middle of the woods that has a gateway to another dimension filled with faceless monsters. Oh, and Robin's coming, too. Don't worry, though, I won't let you get hurt. "

He glances over to meet Eddie's wide eyes, something warm curling behind his ribs when Eddie finally smiles and whispers under his breath, "Fucking metal."

-----

Tag List (definitely still room, so let me know if you'd like to be tagged!):

@nectandra, @y4r3luv, @just-a-tiny-void, @dotdot-wierdlife

@midwestharpy, @twilitdragoneye, @disrespectedgoatman

@lawrencebshoggoth,

And now, a meme:

[sourpatchys]

My personal Headcannons for Daryl Dixon that I will defend with my life

Just a warning! there is some nsfw❤️‍🔥 content in this list (not a ton)

This is a list full of random Headcannons I have, some are xreader related, some are just fun little things I’d like to believe because they’re fun

He l o v e s head scratches and chin scratches, just like a dog, his mom used to do it to him as a kid, it’s just really comforting to him

He is 100% dyslexic, he’s super insecure about it, which is why he leaves reading and writing up to anyone else who’s willing to do it.

This dude is secretly a math wiz. It came super easy to him, but he does tend to keep it on the down low because it was never something he was allowed to be proud of as a child, and it’s not really a needed skill anymore

I personally do not believe Daryl did anything hard while running around with Merle, Shrooms and weed were his limit 99.99% of the time, unless he felt pressured, but even then it would take a lot of convincing

He’s very self conscious about how thick his accent can get, he grew up in a much more rural area than the rest of Rick and Co. (apart from Maggie of course) and he feels out of place with his speech patterns at times.

Daryl was definitely a highschool drop out, assuming his birthday is January 6th, he left as soon as he was old enough to do it without a parent’s consent (18)

I just know this man never got his license. Can you imagine him paying his way through classes and taking a drivers test? I can’t. He probably just got a state ID for booze and just drove around illegally (if he got an ID at all, I’m sure he knew quite a few places that didn’t card)

He runs hot, the cold is a lot easier for him to handle than the heat, which is why he tended to wear sleeveless shirts or half sleeves

He has never had a “crush” in his life. He’s thought people were hot before, of course he has, but romance was never really on his mind

He’s not a total virgin, but he’s not exactly skilled either. His body count is probably 3, and I guarantee you he was not sober before, during, or after.

He’s a thigh and breast man. Hands down.

I know deep in my soul that this man enjoys some face sitting.

He’s not an overly sexual guy, if you were asexual he’d be okay with never doing anything, so long as you were happy

If you’re nonbinary, he was definitely mean to you at the start, with the way he was raised it simply didn’t make any since to him, BUT once you get closer and he starts to trust you, he might (he will) start asking some questions to understand you better

He isn’t a pet name kinda guy. He’s completely on board with calling you sunshine or princess, but anything past that just isn’t for him, and he really isn’t a fan of you giving him one either, unless it’s just a joking matter like how Carol calls him “pookie” from time to time

He’s a morning person and he hates it. He always wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, and every time he wishes he hadn’t.

He is definitely an insomniac, likely derived from having night terrors as a kid

He’s definitely self conscious about his scars, but not enough to cause issues if anyone happened to see them, he isn’t ashamed of them, but he doesn’t want to explain where their from, and he genuinely hasn’t thought of a good enough lie to tell instead.

When rick saw them for the first time Daryl had him fully convinced he was in a fight with a bear for about a week (rick never asked for the real reason)

He has a heavy sweet tooth, and likes to keep hard candy with him at all times (if possible) and he has never, and will never, pass up chocolate in any form.

He genuinely has chicken scratch for handwriting, he does not plan on ever attempting to make it easier to read, he enjoys the struggle people face when he’s put in a position where he has to write anything down. (Plus it helps conceal his errors if they do figure it out)

He does genuinely want kids in his life. Even if they can’t be his biologically. Being “uncle Daryl” is the best feeling he’s ever experienced, and he really wants to experience that with you if you’d allow it/want it (he would never pressure you to have kids)

Headaches and migraines plague his existence and they always have

He had super long hair as a kid and one of his punishments was his dad shaving it all off, which is why he kept it short until after the outbreak.

He would let you paint his toenails, or match his middle finger with whatever polish you decided to wear

This dude HATES clowns. Seeing a walker in a clown get up would absolutely kill him on the inside

You got sick? Don’t worry about it, he will absolutely attempt to make you soup from scratch using bone marrow and whatever else he can find

Fishing is not his thing. He knows how to, but he much prefers just catching them by hand or with a spear.

The closer you two get, the more likely he is to try and convince you that Bigfoot is real

Daryl is a secret star wars fan

He does NOT like country music, Led Zeppelin, Rob zombie, Ozzy osbourne and Lamb of god are much more his thing

He wasn’t a technology kind of guy, so if you tried to explain any aspect of social media to him he’d be completely lost (he didn’t even have a cellphone)

He has a super dry sense of humor

If he had to choose between starving to death or eating plain Cheerios, he would choose death.

One of the reasons he isn’t big on showering is because he doesn’t have a strong immune system from his childhood neglect, and he doesn’t want to shock his body and get sick

He also just hates the way soap feels on his skin. It’s way too sticky

During sex, he’s not strictly dominant or submissive, he’s ready to adapt to whatever you want, even if that means being strictly vanilla

He’s afraid of Santa Clause

And the Easter bunny

He’s willing to try anything once, even if he doesn’t think he’ll like it

He knows a lot of information on plants and herbs, so depending on your mood, he’ll try to find a flower to brighten your day with a little scribbled note explaining its meaning (because you can actually read his atrocious writing)

He’s never once told you he loves you, and your relationship wasn’t a spoken fact. His actions tend to speak louder than words, and if you say you love him, he will occasionally reply with a “back at ya.” Or “me too”

He always has weird shit in his pockets, like cool rocks he found, dead flowers, and fallen leaves.

He genuinely does not understand a single thing that Eugene says, and he never has.

The first time he ever kisses you on his own (you 100% have to make the first move) it’s a very rough and embarrassed act where he just grabs you and plants one in ya before you can even think about what’s happening

He will change his favorite color to whatever yours is, because if you can see beauty in it, then it’s all he can see from then on out

[notebookqueenofnarnia]

Okay Demigods

now that Season 2 has been confirmed (!!!!!!!!!!) I am here to make my official appeal that you ALL read the books. and yes...i mean ALL the books. Because here is what you are missing if you don't:

(mostly spoiler free. mostly vibes and chaotic no context)

OG PERCY JACKSON

Percy's INCREDIBLE sarcasm

Lots of chaotic Mr. D moments

Percy's unending absolute obliviousness when it comes to: his own abilities/powers, his own feelings towards a certain daughter of Athena, and EVERYONE'S feelings towards him

the full list of Percy's felonies (it's longer than you think!)

how much Percy thinks about Annabeth, especially in the third book

The Hunters of Artemis (everyone's like 'which godly parent would you have?' but im like ??? who cares??? I'm running off with the girls to immortal to hunt men i mean monsters)

soooooooooo much Sally Jackson is the Best Mom (to everyone who walks through her door) content

BLACKJACK. TRANS ICON BLACKJACK THE PEGASUS.

Rachel. Elizabeth. Dare. (this is how the audiobook says her name every single time)

Paul Blofis

Sally Jackson, author

Poseidon: Blowfish?

HEROES OF OLYMPUS

If you don't read these books you are missing out on some of the coolest female characters Rick has created: PIPER (an iconic), HAZEL (unintentionally hilarious), REYNA (beautiful character arc), and ANNABETH's point of view will have you loving her on a whole other level, trust me

Also: COACH HEDGE

Leo

All The Ladies Love Leo

the audiobooks are INSANE. It felt like a full cast read the book, but no. it was just one insanely talented narrator.

FESTUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS (im a dragon girlie)

Personally, I spent a lot of time reading the OG 5 wondering about how Roman mythology plays into Percy's world. Uncle Rick answered my questions and answered them SO WELL

Hazel the horse girl

Frank the horsebirddolphinman

Frank, gentle himbo, my beloved son

MY FAVORITE SCENE WHICH INVOLVES PERCY NOT KNOWING HOW TO DRIVE, A HARPY, FRANK, AND HAZEL AND THEYRE ALL SCREAMING AND IM PRETTY SURE STUFF IS ON FIRE

Forced Proximity for 7 teenagers and one chaotically violent satyr (that's Coach Hedge)

Eros/Cupid being one the most genius things Rick's ever written

Percy's hate of Ares transcending god magic

(also his love of Annabeth, but that's like obvious)

PercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabe

weird barely gnome things

this one giant whose name is definitely not pronounced like female anatomy

everyone thinking Percy and Annabeth are constantly getting up to the hanky panky

a statue made me cry

Gay Grumpy/Sunshine (or should that be Death/Sunshine) origins!!

TRIALS OF APOLLO

Apollo, vain himbo of godly proportions is forced to live as Lester Papadopoulos

Percy: why

a very chaotic twelve year old daughter of Demeter

she commands Apollo around

plant magic

terrible great haikus at the start of every chapter

Sally Jackson being the best mom to everyone who comes to her door

magic shoes

a sassy magic prophetic arrow that talks in Shakespearean English

so much gay grumpydeath/sunshine content

also yes sunshine's dad is Apollo

Apollo sings

Grover! Piper! Reyna! Hazel! All the friends! Everyone

Jason! (also im sorry)

what if there were some trees who were an elite squad of warriors who also answer to the chaotic twelve year old

gay moms of the midwest

unicorns

in the last book, chiron takes the campers on a 'field trip' to help take down the big baddie and he shows up dressed as a warrior soccer mom with granola bars, water bottles, and extra swords attached to his fanny pack

a different chaotic twelve year old while fighting to the death in a building that's on fire: "CAN WE GO ON FIELD TRIPS EVERY WEEK?"

chiron: "ROSE DEAR RAISE YOUR SWORD A LITTLE HIGHER!"

okay im not going to spoil it but in the last book there is also this extremely horrifyingly violent moment that Uncle Rick somehow turns into one of the most hilarious things i've ever read

Piper in the epilogue

CHALICE OF THE GODS

more insanely funny percy first person narration

Grover, Percy, Annabeth reunite ("the gang is back together!" "The three musketeers!" "Shrek, Fiona, and Donkey!" "Excuse me?")

have you met the god of himbos? (Percy has)

SO

MANY

EASTER

EGGS

for Season one. you can totally see how Uncle Rick worked on the script and chalice together

if you liked Annabeth shoving Percy into the water....this one is for you

Percy, supreme god of snakes

the cutest cutest cutest cutest Percabeth content you will ever read

hippie gods (yes more than one)

Percy is literally obsessed with Annabeth

Annabeth already being the Jackson daughter in law

Sally Jackson and Paul and

For the record: You CAN read Chalice of the Gods without reading the other series, but please please please read all these books. The audiobooks are phenomenal.

[grimestime27]

On Board

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: mostly fluff!!!

This was written on my phone don’t judge me 🤣

It was a hot summer day in Virginia. The group had decided to scavenge today for supplies for Alexandria. Life was better since you all had made it to Alexandria. There had been some hard times, but you all persevered and made it through.

Rick was now in charge after Deanna got bitten, succumbing to her injuries when the walkers attacked your safe haven. It took awhile to clean up the mess that was made but it was your all’s home. Life was finally feeling a little normal.

Some of your all’s group lived together. Rick, Michonne, Carl, Judith, Daryl, and you. In the other house was Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, Tara, and Sasha. Carol didn’t sleep much these days, her attitude changing from meek and quiet to strong and outspoken. Of course the lovebirds Maggie and Glenn stayed together.

Daryl, Rick, and Abraham were loading a vehicle, getting ready to go on a run. Michonne was joining them. You and Rosita would take turns going. You weren’t weak, but Rick had handed you Judith in the mean time to get your mind off things, trying to bring a little joy to your day.

Judith loved you. You watched her in your free time when there wasn’t scavenging or other work to be done. Rick insisted that you needed to watch her because she was very fond of you. It was a good feeling that your fearless leader trusted you with one of his most prized possessions, one of the people he was closest to.

“Hi Judith.”, you baby talked her, causing her to smile. “Whatcha doin’ sweet girl?”

You kissed the top of her head, holding her close. She rested her head on you, pacifier in her mouth. Michonne smiled at the sight, coming up beside you before she brushed her hand through Judith’s soft hair.

“Think you could get used to that?”

“This?”

Michonne nodded.

“Maybe.”

Daryl eyed you as he was loading up a vehicle. Truth be told, watching you with Judith was one of his many weaknesses. Hardly anything got to Daryl Dixon but this was one of those things. It almost made him want to have a child of his own with you. But he worried he wouldn’t be a good dad. His dad was shitty growing up. And his mom wasn’t much better. Merle and Daryl had a very hard upbringing.

“We just need to convince Daryl to get on board.”, Michonne smiled at Judith as you continued to hold her, shielding her from the sun.

“I don’t even know if I’m on board.”, you joked. “Even though Judith here does make it pretty convincing.”

Judith giggled lightly as you tickled her. It was beautiful to have a child around. She brought light back into your all’s lives. Even on the darkest days.

“Look Judith, it’s Uncle Daryl.”, you smirked at him as he came over to the both of you.

“Aw, what’s my pretty girl up t’?”, Daryl eyed her. “Want Uncle Daryl to hold ya?”

Judith reached out her small arms causing you to scoff playfully. “Really Daryl?”

“Sorry sweetheart. She’s made her choice.”

Daryl smirked. You rolled your eyes as Daryl took her out of your arms. Michonne watched for your reaction as Daryl interacted with Judith, causing her to smile and laugh. You couldn’t help but do the same, watching the man you love.

Daryl was hard and cold at first, but as you got to know him, that changed. He opened up to you and showed you the soft side of him you never knew was there under his hard exterior. Things changed, you lost people, and you all became closer.

So close that you all had began a relationship. This world was cold but he made it better. He was the first thing you woke up to and the last thing you kissed goodnight. As long as he was with you, the world would be tolerable. Things would be okay.

Michonne and Rick had began a romantic relationship, much to everyone’s surprise. Almost as surprising as when the group found out about you and Daryl. You watched Daryl bounce Judith, he was practically a natural. Rick and Michonne kissed, signaling their departure was near.

“Ready Daryl?”, Rick asked as Michonne climbed into the vehicle.

Daryl looked at Rick, this question bringing him out of his daze. “Yeah.”

Daryl came over to you, leaning over to kiss you with Judith still in his arms. The kiss was slow. You knew why Daryl did this but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. He was afraid he wouldn’t come home. This could very well be your last kiss.

“I love ya, Y/N.”

“I love you, Daryl. Be safe, please.”

Daryl nodded. “D’ my best sweetheart.”

“Wrap it up Romeo.”, Abraham joked, laughing as Daryl glared back at him.

Daryl flipped him off, causing him to laugh even louder.

“Daryl,”, you scolded him softly. “Not in front of Judith.”

Daryl sighed, apologizing to Judith before kissing her on the head. She just smiled up at him.

“Alright pretty girl, time t’ go back to Aunt Y/N.”, Daryl moved closer, handing her off to you.

You all shared one more kiss and he told you he’d be home soon. Rick came over and kissed Judith goodbye, telling her the same thing. You helped her wave goodbye to her daddy and the rest of the group as Daryl took one last look at you before getting in the car. You watched the car pull out, stopping at the gates before someone unlocked it, a trail of dust following them.

Looking at Judith, you shifted your focus to her. “Just me and you Judith. Let’s go inside and take a nap.”

Carl stayed back to help keep Alexandria safe. He was in the house, grabbing some water. He greeted you with a hug and you told him you were going to try and put Judith down for a nap. You told him you’d make dinner in a few hours.

Being a typical teenage boy, he acknowledged you silently and left the house with his gun.

Hours passed and dusk began to set in as you tried to focus on anything other than Daryl and the group. A knock came to the door, throwing you off. Judith was playing in the floor with her toys. You quickly ran to open the door, finding Carol.

“Need some help with dinner?”

“That’d actually be great.”

Carol came in and began helping you make a casserole. She had became quite the cook since being at Alexandria. Once it was finished, you placed Judith in her high chair and called Carl to come eat. He had taken a huge interest in Enid, a teenage girl at Alexandria. Maybe love was in the air.

Once dinner was over, Carol helped you clean up. It was easy to get Judith to sleep after her bottle. She was out like a light.

“Well, I guess I’m going to be on my way. Need anything else Y/N?”

“I’m good Carol. Thank you.”

She waved it off, saying it was no problem. You sat in peaceful silence, feeling even better now that Carl was home. This was in stark contrast to being out on the road for so long. Tiredness was sitting in and before you had known it, you were fast asleep with Judith in your arms on the couch.

How many hours had passed? You weren’t sure.

“Sweetheart.”

You jumped easily, startling yourself out of your sleep and quickly opening your eyes to see Daryl standing above you.

“S’ alright, sweetheart. Just me.”

Judith barely stirred as you immediately relaxed your muscles.

“You scared me.”

“I know. ‘M sorry sweetheart.”

Daryl took in the sight of you sleepy and holding a sleeping Judith before he sat down beside you.

“Is everyone okay?”, you asked softly.

Daryl nodded. “All safe’n sound.”

“Thank God.”

“Want me to take Judith and put her to bed so we can lay down?”

“If you have to.”

Daryl chuckled softly. “You’re exhausted. What’d y’all do today?”

Gently, you let Daryl take Judith out of your arms. She barely moved, snuggling into Daryl’s chest.

“Napped, played, and made dinner.”

“Busy day.”

“What about you?”

“Killed some walkers, found lots of supplies. Just another day in paradise.” Daryl smirked, joking.

You nodded before he leaned in, kissing you.

“Can I ask ya somethin’?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

“Sure, what’s up?”

You were awake now, sitting up.

Daryl sighed, trying to muster up the courage to ask you. He was afraid of the answer but he needed to know. His perspective on life had changed lately. Maybe he could have a good life after all.

“I was wonderin’ “, he began, looking down at Judith before looking back up at you.

Your look begged him to continue.

“Would you ever want one of these?”, he motioned to Judith.

“A….baby?”, you question and he felt like he had fucked up.

“It’s silly, ain’t it? Nevermind.”, Daryl sighed, looking away.

You grabbed his chin softly, bringing his face to look up at you. “That’s not silly, Daryl.”

Daryl’s face relaxed. You ran your thumb over his stubble.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”, Daryl repeated, making sure he had heard you correctly.

“Yes.”, you confirmed.

“Sure, y’wanna a little Dixon runnin’ around?”

“I’d love nothing more.”, you whispered lightly before you and Daryl shared a kiss before Rick and Michonne walked in.

“Are we interrupting something?”, Rick laughed.

“Maybe we’re both on board.”

You knew Rick wouldn’t have any idea of what that meant but all Michonne could do was smile.

[cultofdixon]

The archer’s apprentice

Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] • They/Them Pronouns • “Ain’t gonna hurt yea kid” “…how can I trust you?” “Take the risk” • SFW/ANGST • TW: Abandonment Issues / Separation Anxiety / Injuries / Scars

Requested by: Anon

Stupid fucking rain Daryl thought as he quickly ran into the cabin after pushing what was blocking the door on the other side far enough to slip in.

But right as he did, a bolt whipped past his head hitting the wall next to him. Daryl turned where the shot was fired and saw the kid still aiming their crossbow at him before dropping it and cowering.

“Ain’t gonna hurt yea kid”

“…how can I trust you?”

“Take the risk” Daryl shrugs watching the kid scramble, ditching their weapon and climbing on top of the bookshelf in an alarmingly fast pace that was impressive and concerning. The only concerning part about it is they must’ve done that before for whatever other reason. “‘M just gonna hold up for a bit…”

No response to his words concerned him but the kid was still keeping to themselves afraid of the stranger.

The archer could only assume why the kid was alone and every thought didn’t make him feel any better. He carefully takes the bolt out of the wall making his way over to where they left their crossbow and placed it beside it. Then he went to make sure the rest of the cabin was secure while also exploring it himself.

He noticed the opened cans on the floor but also the few still in the cupboards of the kitchen. He took only one of them, because he was looking for food before the storm hit.

“How long have yea been here?” Daryl asks returning into the room in hopes that the short time of not talking that they would open up slightly. But all they did was readjust to be more comfortable on top of the bookshelf. “You can trust me yknow”

“H-How many walkers have you killed?”

Rick’s questions? “Too many to keep track of”

“P-People?”

“Also…too many to keep track of” Daryl frowns sitting down on the couch that kept the door closed. “But not in ill intent. There was always a reason”

“Good reasons? How c-can there be good reasons for killing people…”

“They threaten the lives of those yea care about”

“Okay…but if that’s it, and not everyone threatens those you care about, then what is the reason”

Self defense? They’ve been bit? I can’t think of anything else? Daryl tried to think hard about it as the kid slouches.

“Killing is so stupid…n-not that the government was better in the old world…but still. Why does it have to only end with that…”

“Things have changed” Daryl frowns opening the can up noticing the kid’s glued stare on the item. Which lead to the archer handing it to them as they devoured its contents in seconds. “There’s so many open cans, but you eat like you haven’t in days”

“I can’t…get the cans open”

“You don’t have a knife?”

“No…”

“Your bolt can help open it”

“I broke the others, that’s my last one”

“How did yea end up alone?” It was coming, even the kid knew that. But they didn’t want to say anything. It was fresh, and some part of Daryl knew that.

“Look, I just opened that one for yea. I’m gonna open another for you to eat and then one for myself. Alright?”

“You’re not—“

“I’m not gonna poison it, kid. You ate that one and haven’t died” Daryl states watching them inspect the can but decided not to think that he did something to it when they were given the next one. “How’d yea find this place?” He asks on his way back to the couch watching the kid climb down the bookcase then deciding to sit on the floor.

“It’s my uncle’s cabin…”

“Is your uncle around?”

They shook their head bringing their sadden gaze back toward the can as they started to eat more slowly this time. Daryl frowns feeling awful for what the kid must’ve gone through before he found them.

When the weather cleared, Daryl stepped out of the cabin as he was a bit surprised that the kid let him stay. But they didn’t seem to want to be alone during the storm because during the night they freaked out from the thunder and Daryl woke to them asleep on the floor next to the couch he slept on. Before he stepped out, he had placed them on the couch.

But a part of him didn’t leave.

Daryl heard quick shuffling inside the cabin seeing the kid run out in a bit of a panic. But once they saw him they straightened up and pretended they didn’t just do that.

“Never got your name”

“Y/N”

“‘M Daryl, are you alright?”

“Uh. Yeah uh. You leaving I guess” Y/N stepped back pressing their back against the wall, fidgeting with the ends of their sleeves.

Deep down, Daryl didn’t want to leave the kid alone and he wasn’t going to. But he wanted to make it seem like their idea to go with him back to their community.

“I can teach yea how to shoot”

The light in their eyes sparked when he said such as they straightened up looking at the archer with a pleasing look.

“Really?”

“Mhm. I’ll give yea a bolt or two. Go get your crossbow, and I’ll set up” Daryl went back inside with the kid as they ran to get their things while he grabbed a few empty cans.

After Daryl had set up a little shooting range, he set his own crossbow against a nearby tree along with his pack before taking a few of his own bolts for Y/N who approached him unnoticed. He flinched which resulted in the kid doing the same.

“Holy fuck”

“Sorry” Y/N frowns gripping the strap to their crossbow. “Didn’t mean to spook you…”

“Yknow going unnoticed like that can save yea and others”

“If I can land a shot…”

“Which we’ll be workin’ on”

The basics, Y/N already knew and Daryl kept an eye on them along with their surroundings for any walkers while they loaded the bolt in and held their crossbow in the right position.

“Gotta widen your stance a bit, not too much but enough to plant yourself”

“How does that help with my aim?”

“Well. Best not to fall over when firin’”

“Mm. Okay” Y/N couldn’t argue with that but before they even could fire the bolt, the two heard a walker. But before Daryl could even get his own crossbow and tell Y/N to get behind him.

They discarded the crossbow and quickly grabbed a rock from the rock pile they had standing outside the cabin. Daryl looks at them confused as he ignored it to grab their crossbow that was already loaded and before he knew it, he watches Y/N climb a near by tree high enough and jump on the walker using the rock to crush its skull enough for them to swiftly take their knife out stabbing the gooey inside.

The sight was a bit horrific that Daryl wishes he could unsee it. But before he could try, he couldn’t help but notice the obvious.

“If yea had a knife, why didn’t yea use that to open the cans?”

“Cuz I had someone to do it for me! Then he died and I was alone for three days before you came” Y/N snaps as they took the rock they used to kill the walker returning it to the pile that clicked to Daryl.

It was a grave in a sense. Without the body.

“I’m sorry”

“Whatever…” They frown readjusting the rock formation a bit as Daryl handed their crossbow back once it was fixed to their liking. “So back to it?”

“Mhm”

A few hours of this and Daryl knew he should be heading back to his community before someone will come looking for him. Not that he needs rescuing. Y/N is harmless for the most part.

One last time, they loaded the bolt into their crossbow and aimed it for one of the cans as Daryl gently pushes the end down a bit to help. That’s when Y/N took the shot and finally got the center of the can.

“Fuck yes!”

“Nice shot”

The unfamiliar voice startled Y/N to hug their crossbow as Daryl quickly assured it was someone he knew that also knew how to sneak up on people unnoticed.

“You didn’t come back so Rick sent me” Carol smiles crossing her arms at the two archers seeing Y/N bring themselves to hide behind Daryl. “I’m not gonna bite. I’m a friend”

“Yeah this is my friend Carol, she’s nice”

“Only nice?” She scoffs.

“Fine, and she’s got an ego” Daryl smirks only to get smacked in the chest by Carol once she approached as Y/N tried to fight back the laugh that escaped them. “But yeah you can trust her, she ain’t scary”

“Nice, not scary. Total package” Carol smiles watching the kid relax faster with her than they did with Daryl as he really had to take into consideration that he did barge in in their home. “You know they can come with us”

“I can?” Y/N quickly looks up at Daryl watching him nod. “Can…uh”

“I can still help yea with working on your bow skills”

Now that lead Y/N to quickly collect their things which wasn’t much but gave the adults enough time to talk about the time Daryl has been gone.

“You know why right?”

“Why what?”

“Why you didn’t leave them” Carol continues to smile at the archer as she watches Y/N step out of the cabin approaching the rock pile once more and taking one into their grasp before they went to retrieve the bolt. “You saw yourself in them…all alone in the woods with no one…couldn’t bear to leave them alone like how you were”

“You gettin’ sappy on me is gonna make it rain again”

“You could just say you are gonna cry” She nudges him followed by a grunt from him and a short lived laugh from her. “They’ll be in good hands. I know for a fact”

Soon the three were on their way back to Alexandria, Y/N kept close to Daryl as this was all new to them that when they stopped a few feet away from the gate…Daryl went to their side and taking it at their speed. Carol wishes she could document it for the books…

Alexandria’s crossbow duo

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 2

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. Get ready for the first major change in the canon story-line hehe

Please enjoy reading! :)

"You want me to sing tonight, chicken?"

It's way past my bed-time. The sky looks like a giant film of blue cellophane above us, with millions of little white holes poked through. I pick out the shiniest one, 'cause that one's my Momma. Then I realise I gotta pick one out for Uncle Merle, now, too, so I pick the one right next to Momma's and wish him goodnight in my head.

After my Dad dragged all our stuff further into the woods, because we shouldn't sleep next to people we don't trust, we curled up in his camping chair and we haven't moved since. I'm wrapped up in a grubby gray blanket that I think used to be white, 'cause it's all we got, and I'm wearing two pairs of socks plus my Dad's jacket but it's still cold. I feel like a baby joey in a Momma kangaroo's pouch. Through the trees, I can see the main camp's fires all glittering like tiny orange fireflies and I can hear 'em all laughing. I think they're celebrating. Me and my Dad — We're mourning.

Tomorrow, they're heading back to the city to look for my Uncle Merle, even though we all know he's dead already. He's dead and he's gone and he ain't never coming back, so why does my Daddy wanna go get killed, too? Don't he know I need him?

"I don't wanna go to sleep."

"Well," He reminds me, "Sometimes it don't matter what little girls want. I'm sayin' it's time to sleep, so it's time to sleep."

If he wanted to talk about it, I'd tell him that I don't wanna go to sleep because it means that when I wake up, it'll be the day my Daddy either dies in the city or he doesn't, and then I'll be all alone forever. I don't wanna pick a star out for my Dad. But I don't tell him any of this.

"Now, you want me to sing, or not?" He asks me again.

"I said," And half-way through I'm huffing this out, I know I've made a mistake, but I keep goin', anyway, because at least if I make him super angry, he might wanna talk. Unlike Officer Rick, my Dad is easy to make angry. "I don't wanna go to sleep."

I feel his stomach fill with air underneath me. "Scuse me?"

I twist to face him. Half his face is glowing from the fire, and the other half is glowing just from how mad he is.

"I... don't... wanna," I spell it out real slow. That's what people do when someone's not listenin' properly. "Go... to... sleep."

I hear main camp laughing again. For just a second, I wish I was over there, instead.

I look my Dad in the eye. It's really hard.

"You lookin' for a spanking, Harley Dixon?"

"No," My voice wobbles.

"'Cause you keep back-chattin' me, that's where you're headed."

"But—"

"What I just say?"

I snap my mouth shut like a kettle lid. Does he even have the words in him? Do I gotta beat on his chest 'till they come flying out? Do I gotta kick and yell and scream 'till he can't hold 'em in anymore? What do I gotta do to make him talk? How am I meant to like it over here, in this lonely camp with no Momma and no Uncle and maybe after tomorrow, no Dad, neither?

"Quit that look, Harley Dixon. I'm warnin' you."

"No."

"You really gonna make me repeat myself?"

I snap.

"Maybe I'on care!" I shout. We're both shocked. Then, he's about to lay me over his knee and whoop me 'till I'm black and blue, but I don't stop for nothin'. "Maybe I'on give a crap! I said I don't wanna go to sleep, so why you makin' me? I don't wanna! Uncle Merle's dead! He's dead and you don't even care!"

"How can you say tha—"

"You don't care because you're goin' back to the city tomorrow and you're gonna die, and I'm gonna be alone again, and you don't even care! Uncle Merle is dead! Just like Momma, he's dead!"

"We don't know that, Harley."

"Yeah, we do! Rick killed 'im, and now he's dead."

"That ain't true. Harley, you listen—"

He grabs my arms, but I smack him away. He gets angrier.

He points a finger in my face. "Do not fuckin' hit me, girl."

"I'on care."

Now he really grabs me, and it's so tight I can't smack him at all, or wriggle, or even look away. I see two miniature versions of our campfire in his eyes, burning away. It's a familiar look. I start to cry. I wish I wasn't here. I wanna be in main camp, where they're laughing.

"You stop this bullshit right now, Harley." He says, low. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but if it don't stop right this second, you're gonna regret it. You understand? Don't you ever hit me again. I'm leavin' tomorrow, and that's final."

"But why?"

"'Cause I'm choosin' to believe in yer Uncle Merle. You heard what all them said. There's a chance he ain't dead, and that's a chance I'm gonna take, because I'm a Dixon. Dixons look out for each other." He gives me a little shake. "If it were either one of us in that city, he'd be raisin' Hell on his way there already. Now, I don't wanna hear another word outcher mouth 'bout this. No more tears, neither. Got it?"

It's still not good enough. I want more.

"You wouldn't go back for Momma." I mutter, before I even realise that's what I've chosen to say. Somehow, that's the worst thing I've told my Dad all night, and I didn't even need to shout it. We stare at each other for a bit. "You wouldn't go back for her. You killed her."

I promised I'd never bring it up again, but there it is. I said it.

I think I might throw up again.

Just like that, our argument is over. He doesn't say anything, and then I don't say anything, either, and the not-saying-anything keeps going until we're back to sitting against each other in silence. The moon is high in the trees, now. One by one, the orange blips in the distance die. The chatter gets quieter and quieter until it's gone, and then me and my Dad are truly alone. He holds me tight, but it doesn't feel nice like it did before. It just feels like we're back to square one, because we are, and everything is a little to the left. Like when you get a pebble in the corner of your shoe, and you gotta walk a little funny to pretend it's not there, but it is, and you can feel it, and you hate it.

"You want me to sing for you, chicken?"

This time, I just say yes.

I watch the cube van drive into the distance until it's a white speck.

Dale stands next to me, even after everyone else has shuffled back to camp. "You've probably heard this from ten other people by now," Dale says, holding onto the strap of his heavy sniper rifle, "But your Dad? Well, he's going to be just fine. Toughest man in camp, I'd say."

My Dad, he's tough as nails, and he could shoot a walnut off a fencepost from a mile away, but he's also just a man. He's just skin and bones and blood like everyone else, like me, like deer and squirrels, and a bite from a dead person will kill him just the same. I don't say this to Dale.

He doesn't seem to mind. "Do you remember your first day here?"

A strange thing to ask. 'Course I remember. "What about it?"

"Things were a little more desperate, back then. We'd just ran out of our last tin of beans. People were hungry. I remember your Dad spent the whole morning telling people to leave him alone, because everybody was just begging him to go hunting. I think I did, too." Dale laughs. "One by one, he shot them all down. We were all so sure we'd have to start rationing. Then, the next morning, I go to wash my face behind the RV, and what do I see? Your Dad, dinged up and covered in sweat, dragging this... just... huge, simply huge... deer, into camp. I was gobsmacked. I remember thinking, 'who on Earth could have possibly convinced this stubborn man to go hunting'? Then, later in the day, I see him handing you a bowl of fried deer meat, happy as a clam, and that's when I knew he did it all for you. Tooth and nail, he made sure you were fed. And that's how I know he's coming back."

I think about all the times my Dad's done somethin' like that for me, like with Ronnie, and I feel a little better. My Momma once said my Dad would crawl back out of Hell on hot coals for me, and that I should never forget that. I feel bad for forgetting.

"I didn't tell him I love him, before he left." I admit to Dale. "I was real mean to him last night. I wish I told him."

"That's okay," Dale bumps my shoulder, and when I look up, there's a smile in his white beard. He winks. "I think he knows. Dads always know."

Something about Dale's cheeky attitude makes me giggle. I think I believe him.

"Now, lucky for us, we're certainly not short on food around here anymore. So, how about we go get you some breakfast?"

The day goes by like it always does, 'cause it don't know any better.

I can see Amy and Andrea fishing from the bank of the lake. Their boat looks like a little grain of salt in the middle of a giant green coin.

I'm up to my knees in the water. I'm trying to catch frogs. I'm missing. Shane and Carl are here, too, because even though we ate a whole sleeve of cheese and onion crackers for breakfast, Officer Shane says frog legs are gonna be all the rave, soon, when the peaches and jerky run out. We told him that's super gross, but he just smacked his lips and told us to grab our hats. We gotta do things like this, now. Things like sharing one tube of toothpaste, and only using two squares of toilet paper when you gotta go, and the adults gotta try and make it sound fun. 

I hear Carl somewhere down the rocks, going awww and man 'cause he keeps missing, too. All I know 'bout Carl is he can't spell 'adventure'.

"Hey, man, it happens. How you doin' over there, Harley?" Officer Shane asks me. "You managed to catch any of the little suckers yet?"

"No, not yet." I say. "But I can see 'em."

When we first got down here, Shane asked us kids to provide a little muscle for him. Shane's got plenty of muscle, already. He was just kiddin'. He does that a lot, and his laugh is real loud. He also gives high fives that knock you on your butt, and he's got a heavy walk and a dog tag. I think he must have taught little league, or somethin', before, 'cause he talks like a teacher. All fun and games, but also lots of rules. Like how if you say a bad word, he flicks you on the ear and tells you to mind your language.

I'm still not used to any of these people talking to me. I think they're just glad I ain't biting and hitting on them, anymore.

"How many's in there?" Shane wades over to me.

The only reason I trust Shane is because he's an adult, and adults can be trusted.

I count the frogs. "Um... Three."

"Three? Hm, talk about a gold mine, huh?" He laughs and, yep, it's real loud. "Let's see if I can't help you out here."

He sets our bucket down, which has two wet frogs slipping around inside it.

He rubs his hands together. "C'mon, girl. Let's catch us some frog legs."

He says they eat frog legs in France. I never knew that before today. French people are weirdos.

"You gotta get 'em quick, 'cause they're quicker." I warn Shane. It's something my Dad says 'bout squirrels and possums, so I say it now, too.

"Sure are." Shane agrees. "How 'bout I scare 'em out, and you try grabbin' one?"

"With my hands?"

"What? You plannin' on using your feet?" Shane grins, and he splashes me. I giggle. "C'mon. Get ready."

Officer Shane rolls up his blue sleeves. I take three long steps backward and squat a little, like I'm playin' basketball or somethin', and then Shane grabs the metal bucket and clangs it against the rocks, and all three of the fat froggies come bursting out into the water like wind-up toys. I almost panic — almost — but that's what idiots do, so I steel myself, which means I'm not an idiot. I lunge at the closest frog and wrap my hands around the green blob it makes under the ripples.

When I pull my hands out, I realise I've caught it. It's real wriggly and its skin is cold.

I jump a little, smiling wide. "Look, Shane! I got one!"

"Way to go, Harley!" Shane says, and if I pretend hard enough, it sounds like my Dad's accent praising me instead. "Look at you!"

I drop the frog in the bucket. I hear cheering, and when I look out, I see it's Amy and Andrea. They're clapping. I guess they were watching. Carl comes hopping over, too, and tells me I did a good job. I know he's a bastard cop, and I know his friend murdered my Uncle, but maybe Shane ain't so bad. He makes me miss my teachers. Maybe this group ain't so bad. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

We call it a day after that, and we squeeze out all the water in our clothes on the gravel shore.

"C'mon, y'all," Shane says, "Time to haul butt back to camp."

What he really means to say is ass.

The sky goes from blue to purple, and soon, it'll be black.

We're gonna have a feast tonight. A fish feast.

Dale, who's sitting up on the RV, because he's like a barnacle on a boat, reads us a poetry book while we scrape scales off of fish with plastic spoons. After the book runs out, we pop cassettes in the radio. It's nothin' like what my Dad listens to. It's too nice.

I try really hard not to think about my stomach. It hurts real bad, which is what happens when you're nervous. I realise, a little guiltily, that I almost haven't thought about my Daddy or my Uncle Merle all day, until just now. I say sorry to them in my head, because I didn't do it on purpose, I promise. I was just focused on other things, like doing dishes, and getting my hair brushed by Lori, and strippin' fish skin. It was easy, during the day. But it's gettin' late, now, and every minute that goes by, I'm closer to being the only kid in camp with nobody to tuck me into bed.

I'm standing on a crate, which means I'm almost as tall as all the ladies. Makes me feel a little better. All women remind me of my Momma.

Maybe if I ask, Lori can tuck me in tonight.

"Hey, Harley, you're doin' real good over there." Jacqui tells me. The sun's on her shoulder. "Doin' better than me, at least."

I mumble a thank you, because it's good manners. I done dressed plenty of fish before. It's easy. Like peelin' bananas.

"Our Dad used to take us girls fishing all the time." Andrea tells us. "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, you name it. We were out on the water."

"Sounds fun," Lori says. "I always wanted to go fishing with Rick and Carl, but it never happened. We were indoor people."

Jacqui laughs. "Not anymore, you're not."

Lori makes a face. "You don't gotta tell me twice."

"What about you, Harley?" Asks Amy. "Your Dad ever take you fishing?"

There it is again; my stomach climbing up the back of my throat like a balloon. "Uh," I mumble. "Yeah. A lot."

Carol asks me, "You like it? Being on the water?"

"It's okay if you don't." Amy scrunches up her nose, smiling. "I was never that into it. Motion sickness 'n all."

I'm about to say no, I didn't like it, but something stops me. It's true, I never liked stabbing the alive worms on the hook, or gettin' sunscreen smeared all over my face, or carrying all them heavy buckets full of crayfish and bluegills back to the truck, but that doesn't matter. I was with my Dad. And I liked that. So, "I liked it," I say. "We went every weekend, in Dad's boat. It was sorta old, but he liked it a whole lot. He let me name it."

Lori smiles. Lori loves when people tell nice stories. "What'd you choose?"

"I named it after our old dog." I tell her. Hey, I'm smiling. "His name was Tank. So, Dad's boat was, 'The Tank'."

Lori pouts. She loves animals, too. "Aw. That's nice. We had a dog."

"What was his name?"

"Fido," She scoffs. "You can thank Carl for that one."

"I can't imagine Daryl lettin' anybody tell him what to do," Amy chuckles. "He's always so grouchy."

Dale must be eavesdropping, because he leans over his fold-out chair and calls down to us, "Now, now, remember that time with the deer?"

The story he told me this morning, to make me feel better.

All at once, the women start giggling together, and nodding, yes, they do remember that time with the deer. I catch it, like a stomach bug, and I start giggling, too, because I guess it is kinda funny. My Dad, with his squinty eyes and angry mouth and big, scarred fists, doin' whatever I tell him to. I never saw it like that, because it's always the other way 'round. For the first time today, I'm thinking of my Dad, and it doesn't hurt, not one bit.

"Like a gaggle of geese over there," Shane shakes his head from the fire. He's laughin', too. Bunch of eavesdroppers, these people. "Get back to work!"

"Yes, sir!" Andrea salutes, rolling her eyes.

We can't stop giggling.

The fish fry is, basically, a family barbeque.

My dinner is hot, and greasy, and it's even got yellow rice and onions in it, like takeaway. Takeaway is always good. Around the fire, all I see are happy faces and all I hear are jokes, and gasps, and laughter. They're talking about college, and how Lori used to wear the ugliest skirts, and how, yes, Shane can confirm, he was there to see it and, no, it wasn't pretty. When I look through the trees, I imagine me and my Daddy's sad little camp on the other side, abandoned. I was right. It is better over here. I hope he would think so, too.

"W— Hey! They were in style, back then!" Lori holds her fork up, like a pointing finger. "Everyone was wearin' them!"

"Oh, I remember." Shane shakes his head. "N— No, listen, I remember, alright! So short it was like a damn belt!"

Amy slides off her tennis shoe and launches it at Shane's legs. "You can't argue with fashion, Shane!"

He laughs. "Oh, that's what that was? Fashion?"

"Hey, I got some pretty nasty pictures of you with that damn perm on your head, so you might wanna quit while you're ahead." Lori sasses.

We all picture Shane with a mop of curly poodle hair, prolly posing like He-Man, and we all roar with laughter again.

Up until the very last grain of rice gets eaten, we talk about everything and anything, because stories are all we got to give each other anymore, Dale says. Dale talks about how he planned to take a trip around the state with his wife, in their RV, but she passed away before it could happen. So, when the world ended, he was in a gas station, buying ice creams and lookin' at maps, 'cause he was doin' the trip on his own. He says he's glad that all the small decisions he's made in life has led him to this quarry, with these people. Everybody calls him a sap, but he gets a side-hug from Jacqui. He smiles over the fire at me. Andrea and Amy talk more about their Dad.

I talk about the tyre swing I used to have, in my yard. Shange suggests building one here, too.

Jim talks a little about his old job as a mechanic. Morales talks about how much he misses his recliner.

"Aw, man, I'm telling you," He groans, like he's in a deep, deep pain. "It was remote-controlled, and it had blue-tooth, and everything."

Shane slaps him on the back. "Too bad the world ended; Had to get off your fat ass!"

More and more warm, silly laughter.

It's around us kid's bed-time when Dale checks his watch.

The other kids all complain straight away, but we get dragged away, anyway. I can hear my Daddy's voice in my head, telling me sometimes it don't matter what little girls want. Lori and Carol take us around the back of Shane's Jeep, where all the bathroom stuff gets kept, like the gallon jugs of water, the towels, and stuff Glenn brings back from runs. We brush our teeth, and splash our hair with water, and use baby wipes on our armpits.

I can see the tippy-tops of the city's tallest buildings from here, like skinny black popsicle sticks in the smog. I keep lookin' back, for my Dad.

I'm lookin' right now. Everyone else is trying to find Sophia's hairbrush in one of the bags, but I'm not helping. I can't look away.

There's a figure, stumbling up the road.

At first, I think it's my Dad, somehow. When you're expecting somethin' so much and for so long, and with all your heart, it's the first thing you think of. Even if it makes no sense. If they were really back, they'd all be together; Glenn, T-Dog, Daddy, and Rick, because my Daddy would make them all stick together, 'cause he's smart like that. But the shadow's alone. And he's got a limp. Just a little one. He hop-shuffle-hop-shuffles closer to us. No, no it's not my Dad. There's no crossbow; no big boots, no backpack. The shoulders aren't wide enough. Actually, the shoulders aren't wide at all. They're droopy. Too droopy, like they're... like they're melting off the bone, like hot cheese melts off pizza.

I hear a gurgle through the night. That's when it all makes sense.

"Walkers!"

And one second after that, the fish feast goes to Hell.

Someone snatches my wrist. We go rushing back into camp, where there's people, and lights, and noise. And shouting. Lots and lots of shouting; so much shouting it's like being stuck inside a beehive. I see flashes of legs and t-shirts and hands pulling me around, toward the bonfire. The bonfire must be brighter than a lighthouse out here, in the dark. Suddenly, I'm noticing everything wrong with the fish fry. The smells, the noise. I'm remembering my Daddy's rules, 'bout how loud is dangerous and dangerous is stupid and oh God — I can hear Amy shrieking like a piglet, near the RV. I hear shotguns pumping and bullets exploding and sloppy plops of skin falling of the dead people afterwards. I'm screaming.

The bag — The emergency bag, the one in our tent. I should grab it, right? That's what I'm supposed to do, right? So we can live?

"Lori!" Shane's hollering. "Carl! Harley! Where are you?"

"We're over here!" Lori cries.

"Start moving!"

Everywhere, everywhere, legs, legs, legs, all rotten and slimy and dead. Then, a gap, filled with darkness. The tent is out there. The bag.

I can make it. I know I can.

"Harley!"

That's Lori, screaming like she's never screamed before, because I just broke away from her, and I can feel something hot sliding down my arm, and it must be blood, 'cause she must have ripped my arm open with her short razor nails. I run straight for the gap in the wall of dead people, and I throw myself past them, like they're bowling pins and I'm the ball, and then I'm on the other side, in the dark, dark woods, running, running, running, all by myself. I remember the path to our camp. Big rock, little tree, old fence. It's all there, it's just covered in night.

I hear Shane yelling for me, and Morales, too, and more screaming, more dying.

A dead man slams into me. We go tumbling into the branches and the leaves, and then down a little hill, and then into a ditch. I smack his growling face away from mine, and I kick his stomach, and I wriggle away. The dirt is slipping away from underneath me, like dust, but the roots are easy to climb so I climb those, and the dead man follows me out. He's swiping at my ankles, scampering for my legs, slobbering on his lips.

His nails catch my arm.

I see the tent.

I'm running again, but only for a second. It's my pants. They're stuck. The dead man's grabbing onto them. I kick his fingers off.

"Get away," I grunt.

The pebbly ground barks under my shoes when I tear off again, and it only takes a couple heartbeats for me to reach my Dad's camping chair, and then the black fire pit, and then the truck, and then the tent. I rip open the zipper and fall inside. The bag, the bag, the bag. I scramble for my Dad's sleeping cot, and drop to my knees, and pat around all the spare shirts and pants and socks and blankets he's got stuffed under here, praying, please God, it's gotta be here, like he says it is. My fingers hit something soft, then something hard. A buckle. I grab. I pull.

It's the bag. It's the bag, with the compass and the rope and the matches. I did it.

A branch cracks. I look over my shoul—

The dead man crashes on top of me, all two hundred pounds, through the tent lining. He squirms against me like a finger in a glove.

I scuttle backward as fast I can, under the cot. The dead man flops and turns and twists until he finds the tent opening, and he slithers inside, 'cause he's a hungry animal and I'm his food. An electric lamp clicks on underneath my foot. The dead man's shadow gets projected onto all four of the tent walls; big, like the bogeyman. I hug the bag like a teddy bear and then that's it, and there's nowhere else to go. His fingers reach for me, and they look like big, black, dead spiders, all curled up. I see his face, now. It's shredded. It's beaten.

It's Sophia's Dad.

Something clamps around my shoe, and it's his teeth. A whole row of thick, white teeth. A bite.

I squeeze my eyes closed and hope my shoe's thick enough to keep me safe. There's nothin' else I can do.

Then, a great, big bang.

Then, hot, slippery puddles of blood, and little bits of neck and skin and jaw, splattered across my face. He slumps. Is it over? It's over? His head's cracked open like an egg, and his brains are leaking out like yolk. There's a bullet hole between my two feet. That means — That means someone shot his shadow, through the tent. Only someone with a very good shot could have made that, without killing me at the same time. I claw my way out from under all the blankets, and the body, and the cot. I can hear voices shouting, Oh Fuck, Oh God, and, Where are you, baby, and, If you hit my daughter, I will fucking end you.

The electric lamp flutters off.

The tent is ripped open. 

I look up. I'm blinded by big, white circles of flashlight light. Someone gasps.

My chin crumples 'cause I'm crying, like a little baby.

Rick's standin' there, Sherriff's hat on, revolver smoking. Shane's there, too, wild-eyed, and very, very sweaty, with a shotgun. There's Glenn, panting. They look at the blood on the blankets, and the blood on my face, and their dead friend on the floor, with half a head. Then, they see the scratches on my arm, and for some reason, some of them look like they're about to throw up all over themselves. But the person in front, the person that got here first, that's my Dad. It's my Dad, and he's alive. He doesn't even stop to look, like the others. He doesn't care.

"Harley," He chokes, like he's been punched, and he drops to his knees in front of me. He presses me into his chest. He's alive. He's alive. 

I'm alive.

"Daddy," I cough-sob, 'cause I can't help it.

I only ever call him Daddy instead of Dad in my head, or when I'm really, really upset.

He must notice, 'cause the hug gets tighter; safer. "Baby, I'm here. You're alright. You're alright. S'alright, now."

I bury my face in his sweaty, stinky, dirt-smeared neck, and I never wanna come back out. I sob and I sob and I sob, and I sob some more. He pets my hair and shushes me, like how he does when I get nightmares. We rock back and forth. I sob, sob, sob.

Someone says my Dad's name real weird, like they're boutta keel over, and only then I remember me and my Dad aren't the only two people in the world. Footsteps crinkle on the tent canvas. Someone kneels next to me. It's Rick. He takes off his hat and sucks in a breath, glances at the others — He steels himself — and then he gently grabs my green sleeve, and I wriggle into my Dad, who's lettin' him do this, and he slides it up my arm. Fresh claw marks, and blood, pouring down my skin. We stare at my arm for a long time. They glance at Sophia's Dad. Why are we staring at my arm?

I look at Rick. I look at Glenn; at Shane. I look at my Dad. He's gone white as a ghost.

"Harley, what is that?" He whispers to me.

I look back at my arm. It's just some stupid scratches. I wipe 'em away, 'cause I want 'em gone. "It's nothin'."

"Harley," He says again, this time with a very clear, very angry, no-nonsense voice. "You look me in the eye. What is that?"

Something is very, very wrong.

Glenn has to walk away.

"Wh—?" I shake my head, sniffing. Why do I feel like I'm in trouble? I didn't do nothin' wrong. "It's nothin'. Lori, she scratched me."

"It was Lori?" Rick raises his eyebrows, like it's very, very important that I'm not lying right now.

I'm not lying. Rick, he's a liar, but not me.

"Uh-huh." I nod hard, so they believe me. "It was Lori. H— He got me, too, I think, but it don't hurt. I promise. He ain't do it too hard."

I didn't say the right thing.

They're all looking at each other. They're speaking without talking, and I don't like it.

"Daddy, what's goin' on?" I'm mumbling now, 'cause I only want my Daddy to hear me, 'cause I'm scared. I'm really scared. I don't know what I did wrong, and I don't know what they're thinking about, but I'm sorry, and I'll never do it again. I was so busy worrying about the teeth in my shoe that I wasn't thinking about anything else. I think I should've been, though, and I'm sorry I wasn't. I'm sorry. All I know is that I'm sorry. I don't know why, but I'm sorry. Daddy picks me up, even though he's told me over and over I'm too old for that, now. He's shuddering.

"We'll check Lori's nails." Rick tells him, nice and steady. His police-man voice. "If there's blood under them—"

"This bastard's got blood unn'er his nails!" Dad gives Sophia's Dad a hard kick in the head. I shriek. "The stupid fuck! It don't fuckin' matter!"

"It does matter. It does." Rick keeps saying. "We can't make any conclusions. Not 'til then. We just can't."

"You wanna talk 'conclusions', officer? Let's talk 'conclusions'."

"Daryl, we'll figure this out."

"How the Hell did y'all even let this fuckin' happen?" Dad yells. "You're like a fuckin' bad luck charm, you people!"

"This is nobody's fault." Rick says, but he sounds like he knows he's lying.

I can hear people panicking far away, back at camp, in whispers. Glenn ran back there a few minutes ago.

"First my brother, now my—?" Dad cuts himself off. He's about to cry.

Nobody's got anything to say.

We listen to the sounds of leaves rustling and crickets chirping and the distant yelling and the breeze and my Daddy's big strong heartbeat, which is goin' buh-bump, buh-bump, buh-bump under my ear, real, real fast.

Shane steps forward, but it's all over already.

This is what it was like the night Tank got put down. I realise that I'm like Tank. Tank was dying. I'm a dying dog. The scratches on my arm, I get it now. They're from the dead man and they're from Lori at the exact same time, and until we know which it is, that means I'm dying. He scratched me — I remember, now. He got me. He did. I don't wanna be dying. I was alive just a second ago. I swear I was.

Unlike yesterday, Daddy doesn't bat Rick off when puts a hand on his shoulder. Something changed in the city today. I think we're all one team, now, even if my Daddy likes to bite and snap and blame. There's no more line between them and us. There's not two camps, anymore. Only one.

The stars are bright, tonight. I watch them twinkle over my Dad's head.

"If this happens," Daddy's voice cracks. "Every single one of you are gonna be real, real sorry."

Author's Note. Yep, you guessed it, Jim survives! And Harley is the one that gets attacked.

No more ominous hole-digging for you, Jim. Sorry.

Phew. This took a long time to write. I had to re-work almost every scene about four times, because some things just weren't working, and I had to delete some others. It all worked out in the end, though. Here we are with chapter two.

Please let me know what you think! :)

[fanfictilltheend]

You should see me in a crown - Chapter 7 (Y/N Grimes/Negan Smith)

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Chapter 6 // Chapter 8

A/n: Ask and you shall receive!! Hope you guys like this chapter. Have plans for the eighth chapter too. LMK what you would like to see. Feedback is always appreciated strongly and idk how I feel about this chapter so any thoughts would be amazing! Also you can follow and request things from me here on tumblr or on AO3. Y/N is like 20 in this and Negan is whatever age he is in season 7 so if that’s too much of an age gap please turn back!

Warnings: 18+ smut do not interact if not 18+ afab!you, daddy kink, age difference, abusive!Rick Grimes, protective Negan, sexual touching, oral sex, blow jobs, orgasm denial, choking

Summary: Y/N sees Daryl and makes Negan let him come back to Alexandria for a homecoming dinner to be orchestrated by Negan of course. In order to get that though Y/N has to give something to Negan in return...

My time at the Sanctuary is going well so far. I get my own room and the wives are even nice to me. I think it’s because Negan spends most of his time fucking me which takes the heat off of them, but I don’t mind. I imagined them being like high-school mean girls or something, but I have nothing but good things to say about them. But then something dawns on me the day after Rick leaves and I feel guilty about not thinking of him until now.

“Negan,” I say when he gets back from a supply run. “Take me to see Daryl.”

Negan, who is polishing Lucille in his living room, looks up at me a bit guiltily.

“You don’t wanna see him, sweetheart, trust me.”

“The fuck are you doing to him?” I yell. My heart drops. “That man is important to me! He’s like my fucking uncle. Are you torturing him?”

“I need to break him,” Negan explains, an eyebrow raised. “He’s Rick’s right-hand man. Think about things from my perspective for a goddamn minute, why don’t you? I can’t just give him a fucking hotel room.”

“He can’t be broken, Negan. He’s practically the strongest man I know,” I impress. “There are other ways to mess with Rick.”

“I thought I was the strongest man you know,” Negan smirks.  

“Stop fucking around, this is serious!” I shout.

“Damn, okay, Y/N. You know when you get assertive it gets me worked up. But what do I get in return if I were to let my enemy’s second in command go free, baby? I’m assuming that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I’m going to get,” I inform him, pressing a finger into his leather-jacket-covered chest.

“Is that so?” Negan grins, grabbing my hand. “Well, go on. You know you got me wrapped and I can hardly say ‘no’ to you, but I want something in return.”

“You can’t take anything more from Alexandria because we’re practically starving over there, but maybe you let Daryl go and you take me and him back to Alexandria and I…will personally announce my free-willed devotion to you and it will fuck with the whole town and especially Rick’s head.”

Negan thinks about it.

“Hmm, I like that. And we could have a family Welcome Home dinner,” he agrees, his grin getting wider. “Everyone will be there for the show. Carl, Rick, Michonne, Daryl, and baby sister, and you and me. I’ll even cook goddamn spaghetti free of charge. I make a mean tomato sauce.”

“You want a fucking family dinner, you freak?” I snicker.

“Trust me it will be worth it to see the looks on their faces. Especially Rick’s. But you know what? I need a little something right now to tide me over. What’s that gonna be, baby?” He smiles wide.

“First, you take me to Daryl right this instant and you stop whatever horrid torture techniques you’ve been doing to him. And then I’ll give you the best blow job of your life. How does that sound?” 

“Sounds like you think you’re going to be the one in control of that blow job, but I can assure you, sweetheart, it’s going to be the other way around. Gonna have you absolutely choking on my cock, baby girl. No mercy.”

I swallow.

“Fine,” I say like it’s no big deal and I’m not a little nervous. “Take me to Daryl.”

***

Negan walks me down through the bowels of the sanctuary to where they keep the cells. I hope what I said is true and that Daryl didn’t break. I pray it. We walk until we reach a single tiny room with some stupid pop song playing on repeat inside it.

Negan opens the door.

“Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour!” he booms, holding up Lucille to remind Daryl not to try anything, the music increasing in volume as we enter.

Daryl is crouched down in a filthy sweatsuit, covering his ears from the annoying music.

“Y/N?” he asks slowly in a raspy voice, looking up cautiously. “That really you?” “It’s me, Uncle Daryl,” I say rushing over to him, grabbing onto his dirty hands. “Turn off that fucking music, Negan.”

And Negan actually does.

“The hell you doin’ down here?” Daryl asks in concern. “You ain’t a prisoner too, are you?”

“No, it’s not like that,” I explain. “I’m here to get you out. Tomorrow you’re coming back to Alexandria, okay?”

I try to hug him, but he flinches at my touch. My heart sinks.

“You are quite popular, ‘Uncle Daryl,’” Negan smirks down at him, unable to not insert himself into the conversation. “Y/N won’t shut up about you. You must have at least been decent to her unlike Rick the Prick. I, for one, did not wanna let you go, but Y/N is going to convince me in more ways than one if you catch my drift.” He winks and does that lean thing he’s always doing. “And tomorrow,” he continues, stamping his foot for emphasis. “When you go back home to your quaint little town, you will make it clear that it was Y/N who saved you, is that understood?”

Daryl says nothing, so Negan takes Lucille and makes like he’s going to strike him with her, but he stops the bat just before it would have collided with Daryl’s face. Daryl does not even flinch.

“Shit, you do not scare easily. I like that!” Negan grins gleefully.

“Stop it, Negan,” I snap. “We get it. Your dick is the biggest.”

“Goddamn right it is,” he chuckles and I roll my eyes.

“Y/N,” Daryl mumbles quietly, turning to me. “If he’s making you do stuff that…you don’t wanna do, I’m not worth that.”

“Trust me, Rick’s Little Bitch, she wants it,” Negan announces. “Could even give you a goddamn preview if you w–”

“Shut up!” I yell at Negan. “For once in your life, please shut the fuck up! I’m fine, Daryl. I promise.”

“You and he?” Daryl asks in his way of little words, gesturing between the two of you.

“Something like that,” you nod. “Give him some proper food, Negan, and some real clothes, and let him shower. Those are the conditions.”

“You know, I am a decent man and benevolent ruler, so I’ll allow those. I’ll tell Davey to get on that right away, princess. See? I am a man of my word. See ya tomorrow, Daryl. It's your big goddamn homecoming day! Now let’s go, Y/N, you’ve got something to give me.”

***

We return to Negan’s bedroom. I’m silent the whole way back.

“You mad at me, princess?” Negan asks, taking off his jacket. “‘Cause of how I treated him?”

“Honestly, yeah,” I reply, sitting down on his bed. 

“Try to think of it from my perspective, honey, it’s not personal.”

“I know that, but you could at least be humane,” I point out.

“Think about if Alexandria had gotten ahold of Simon or Dwight–”

“We wouldn’t have tortured them. Plus, you already ironed off Dwight’s face. How can it get worse?” 

“And do you know why I did that?” Negan asks. 

I shake my head ‘No.’

“He ran away with Sherry and got Sherry’s sister, Tina, killed and my men had to save their sorry asses.”

I hadn’t known that.

“I’m cruel, sure, but I have reasons for doing shit, baby,” Negan assures me. “Cruel but not unusual if you know what I mean. For example, you know I’d never make you do shit you didn’t wanna do. If you’re too mad at me to blow me, you don’t have to. But I know the thought of it makes you so fucking wet.”

He’s not wrong. I want to say ‘no’ to spite him, but the things he says make sense even if I wish they didn’t. And I…I feel something really strong for him that I can’t even explain. He makes me feel so good and safe. He has rules that make sense, which is different from my life back at Alexandria with Rick where any second he could lose it on me and I always have to be on my guard. With Negan I know what I’m getting and if I say stop, he’ll listen. There’s something powerful about that. I want to make him feel good despite every instinct in my brain. I want him to hold and comfort me too. 

“Fine,” I say. “But you fuck with Daryl again and I will personally end your life. Now sit down on the goddamn bed.”

“Damn, baby.” Negan grins. “So hot when you threaten me and boss me around.”

“We’ll have to explore that another time,” I smirk. “Shit, did that make you hard?”

“Just being around you makes me hard, baby. But yeah.” He sits down on the bed and palms the bulge at his crotch. “Bet you’re already wet though too.”

He’s not wrong. 

I put my hair up and bend down between his legs.

“Take your pants off,” I insist. 

“This isn’t for your pleasure, you little slut,” he smirks. “Maybe if you earn it.”

I roll my eyes and reach for his belt buckle, but he slaps my hand away.

“Did I tell you to?”

“No, Daddy,” I reply obediently.  

“There’s my good girl. Now you may.”

Control freak. I undo the leather belt and remove it, then I unbutton and unzip his grey khakis and pull out his half-hard cock and balls.

My mouth waters.

“Now strip,” he orders.

I do slowly, pulling my shirt over my head to expose my breasts and I unhitch the bra and Negan swears. Then I pull off my pants and my underwear and shiver from the cold.

“Damn, baby. You look so good. Now, take me and get me all the way hard,” he orders. “In your mouth.”

And I do. I take his long, girthy dick and kiss the swelling head to tease and Negan groans. Then I take as much of him as I can down my throat.

Negan lets out a small moan as I suck and use my hands on the girth that doesn’t fit in my mouth. This goes on for a few minutes and Negan is fully erect in my mouth and it makes me so wet. I reach down to touch myself, but Negan slaps my hand away.

“This is isn’t for your pleasure, you little harlot. How many times do I gotta fucking say it, baby?”

“Sorry, Daddy,” I reply, looking right in his eyes. “You just make me so wet is all.”

Negan groans and squeezes the base of his cock. 

“Tonight is for me, isn’t it, Y/N?” He growls, grabbing a handful of my hair.

“Yes, Daddy,” I reply disappointedly. “Ow!”

“Too much, kid?” Negan asks seriously. 

“No, it hurt good,” I tell him, liking the pain.

“You little freak! You know, I think we need a safe word. How about ‘walker?’”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Daddy’s gonna fuck your mouth now, baby.” Negan tells me, looking down into my eyes. “It’s gonna be rough, but I know you can take it.” 

“Do your worst,” I challenge and Negan snickers.

“God, I love that." He pulls on my hair again roughly, “Get to work, slut,” he growls, and with that, he shoves his fat cock far down my throat and I gag.

Then he holds the back of my head and fucks my mouth with vigor, not holding back. I have to grab onto his waist to keep from being knocked over by the force. Goddamn.

He fucks me so hard each time it makes a gluck sound that is so filthy I am soaking against my thighs. My throat feels raw and sore, but he keeps going. Then he pulls my head down all the way on his cock and I choke, my nose smashing against the salt and pepper pubic hair at the base of his prick. He holds me down for what feels like forever and I can’t breathe! Oxygen is all I can think about and the throbbing pleasure between my legs. Fuck!

Finally, he pulls off of me, and I think he’s done so I move to get up.

“Ah, ah, ah, Not yet, baby girl,” Negan sneers. “Aw, you thought I was finished? Nice fucking try.”

And then he’s grabbing the back of my head and forcing me back all the way down on his cock and I’m gagging and choking and tears are streaming down my face. My brain begins to get foggy from the lack of oxygen and my pussy drips further down my thighs as saliva and precum dribble down my chin.

“Damn, baby. Taking it like you were fucking born for it. What a perfect little slut,” he groans. He tastes so good. His precum is perfectly salty. “I’m close, angel. Fuck! Look how wet you are. Tell ya what: I’ll hold you down on me for ten more seconds and if you’re a good girl and don’t touch your aching, dripping little pussy, I’ll give you a reward.”

“Yes, please, Negan,” I moan, so desperate to cum.

“Is that what you call me?” he snaps.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whine. “Come on, please. Just do it. I’ll be so good for you.”

And with that, Negan sticks his cock back down my throat. 

“One…” Negan begins with his usual snarky grin. “Fuck.” He groans in pleasure as his attractive face relaxes in bliss. “Two…Three...”

I start to struggle a little reflexively, my nose pressed against the patch of salt and pepper hair at the base of Negan’s prick, just below his hairy tummy, but he only grabs my head harder and holds me in place more tightly, which my pussy seems to like a lot.

“Be good for me now, Y/N,” Negan reminds me condescendingly, stroking the back of my head gently despite his firm grip, his voice low. “Four...Five…”

I can’t breathe! My brain screams out for air. I try to whimper, but only make a sad, strangled sound against him. Fuck, it feels so good. 

“Six...Seven…Stay fucking still, baby!” he growls. 

To stop me from trying to move, Negan wraps his large hand around my neck, and I moan, throbbing between my legs, pleasure buzzing inside me, aching to touch myself.

“Oh, shit, you really like that don’t you?” he smirks. “Eight…”

He squeezes his hand down around my throat and I see black spots around the edges of my vision. Fear pumps through my blood, but my spiking arousal is all I really care about as I hump against nothing but air. Negan smirks at my dancing, itching fingers.

“Nnnghhm!--” I try to moan desperately, my lower body shaking and spasming, staring up at him.

“Nine…Are you gonna fucking cum just from this!?” he exclaims. “You little whore!”

I cannot breathe! I cannot fucking breathe! I am going to fucking pass out! Or cum! Or both! Holy fuck!

“Ten…” Negan groans, and finally pulls out of my throat, loosening his grip on my neck, as my body twitches.

“Such a good little slut for me!” Negan exclaims enthusiastically, his voice so low it is almost a growl. “Now what do you say?”

“Thank you, Daddy,” I whine softly, my throat sore from overuse.

“Fuck, baby, I just slid my dick down your throat, and you thanked me for it!” he booms excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah asshole, sure–” I start to say.

But then he cuts me off by slapping my face with his dick and I can’t help but giggle. 

He snickers too, looking down at my legs. 

“Holy shit! You’re goddamn Niagra Falls down there, sweetheart. Want Daddy’s help with that?”

“Please,” I beg. “I am so horny for you, Daddy.”

“Touch yourself for me, baby. But do not cum!”

He pats the bed and I get up and sit on it next to him and start rubbing my pussy desperately. I let out a low moan as my fingers meet my clit. Negan stares at me and strokes his cock, cursing under his breath.

After a few steamy minutes of this, I insert and curl my fingers inside myself and begin shaking with the need to cum.

“Daddy,” I whine in a wrecked voice. “I’m close.”

“Holy fuck, here it comes!” Negan growls and he cums all over my chest with a shout.

“Would’ve swallowed it,” I tell him disappointedly, as he exhales deeply.

“You look amazing like that, baby. Holy moley, you look good!” he pants, wiping his brow. “Jesus.”

“Do I ever get to cum?” I practically yell, my face flushed with how horny I am, his cum dripping down my tits. 

“Not tonight,” he informs me and I deflate. “You cum when I tell you you can. And if you touch yourself before I allow you to you will fucking regret it. You won’t cum for a week. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I whine. “But I mean are you sure I can’t cum on your fingers?”

“I have a surprise planned for tomorrow, angel, don’t worry,” he says surprisingly gently.

“Okay,” I nod. “Can we cuddle though?”

“Of course, baby girl. You were very good for me. Let me clean you up though first.”

He leads me into his bathroom and pats the counter for me to sit. I do and he wets a towel with warm water and cleans off my chest very gently. It feels nice. I yawn sleepily. 

“Ready for bed?” he smirks. “You were so good for me, angel, truly.”

“You sure I can’t cum?” I beg. “Why is it my fault that you’re so hot?”

He laughs, his face scrunching up. 

“You tempt me, kid, you really do, but I want you extra excited for my plan tomorrow. You’ll thank me later.”

I doubt that, but I let it slide for now.

We brush our teeth and then get into bed. I become the little spoon and he the big one. 

“What if I just came from rubbing on your thigh? That’s not easy.” I try one last time.

“Shut up,” Negan snorts. “Go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow. You made goddamn sure of that…”

A/n: Who's hyped for the Alexandria dinner? PLEASE give feedback I would highly appreciate it and I wonder if you guys are liking the direction of the story?????

Masterlist

Chapter 6 // Chapter 8

[fantasticallyfruity4]

What if after the whole “the town thinks I killed my friend and went on a serial rampage” thing Eddie is fucking FREAKED.

And he decides this is it I’m gonna walk the straight and narrow I’m gonna be better I’m gonna be a model fucking citizen. No more selling, no more doing even.

And it really shocks the shit out of everyone how cold Turkey eddie is able to get off the shit and give Rick his inventory back (“take it man don’t even pay me back I want this off my hands for good”) but he’s just had the most intense horrifying beyond scared straight experience ever.

And he’s kinda struck like shit, I don’t know where to go from here. The town still hates me, I have 0 marketable real world skills, I don’t actually know how to be a person.

And Steve, every the beautiful and daft, in the middle of one of Eddie’s freak outs suggests “why don’t you just like, ask hopper how to get your life together? He’s like the chief authority on getting your life back in order. And you know, he’s a cop, so”

And half of Eddie wants strange Steve because that’s so stupid Hoppers a cop he’s horrified of those things.

But on the other hand… that beautiful man is right.

So he goes by the station during business hours (“hopper might as well be on the clock to deal with my shit”) to do just that. To ask hopper what the fuck he’s supposed to do now. With his life, with his new need for a job, anything.

And hopper is like “well, I could use a new secretary”.

And Eddie looks at him like he has 6 heads.

“Listen kid, it’s not a bad job. You file paper work, you man the phones, sometimes you run some stupid errands. You get good pay, you can get a real place for you and that uncle of yours, type of pay. You’ll have pretty decent insurance because you’ll be a state employee. Trust me kid it’s a good deal. You’re not fucking qualified but… listen, I know what you and Steve are and I love that boy like my own so, consider this some father in law nepotism. There’s no better way to look clean than working for the cops right?”

And Eddie feels like he should say no but… he really can’t.

Hopper starts training him that afternoon. He’s gotta get real people clothes, hopper hands him a $50 to get some slacks and shirts at the mall, and begs him to Atleast put the hair in a pony tail or something.

Eddie comes in the next day looking like a kid who borrowed his fathers suit for a funeral, it fits but he’s awkward and he’s got a fucking manbun that almost gave Steve a heart attack that morning.

His uncle said he was proud of him with a little sniffle and Eddie had to bolt out of the trailer before he started sobbing.

He looks every bit the functioning professional law abiding citizen, if a bit of a hippie with that hair.

He got his life in order: he’s got a real future he didn’t think he’d ever have.

I just think it’s nice.

[mermaidinthecity]

I Love You’s

I love you, family. Dad, because you are my biggest fan, and I’ll never get tired of the way you smile when I pick up a guitar and play. Mom, for being my best friend and most trusted companion, even in times when you were my only friend. That was just fine. Austin, my little brother, for being so much more brave than I ever hope to be. My aunt, Alison, for being such a beautiful person. My aunts, uncles, cousins, and relatives (even the ones I didn’t know I had) for making Thanksgiving something someone should write a book about. I love my mom and dads’ friends who have been so unbelievably supportive (and so unbelievably loud at my shows).

I love my friends. Abigail, I love you because you are my best friend in the entire world. Can’t wait to room together when we’re 65 and wrinkly and living in Minnesota. I love Ally, Kelsey, Kathryn, Jeff, Clay and all my awesome friends in Hendersonville. Britany Maack for being my first friend, I miss you!

I love everyone who helped put this album together. Scott Borchetta for believing in me and actually DOING something about it. Shake and bake, Radioman. This is how we roll. Nathan Chapman because he is the most amazing red-headed freckle-faced little producer in the world and I love your beautiful wife Stephanie. Thanks Nathan for gracing me with your first album. Liz Rose, you are my songwriting soulmate, and one of my dearest friends. Robert Ellis Orrall, you Rock! Nick for breaking your drumsticks on my songs, Tim for playing on my session ON YOUR BIRTHDAY, and everyone else who played on the album because you are THAT GOOD. Chad, for your amazing mullet (and engineering skills).

I love my record label. Jack Purcell, for your Minnesota accent. Mandy McCormack, for humoring me in my mailbox obsession. Rick Barker, because I learned everything I Know about radio in… nevermind. HAHA. Bobby Young, thanks for taking us shopping. Whitney Sutton, you are so organized and I love you for it. JZ, because of that adorable laugh/nose thing you do. Erik Powell, for being cool and pretty much a genius. Larry Hughes, you rock! Jamice Jennings, for being the sweetest ever. Kelly Rich, you are the wizard of Marketing! Jayme Austin for adding so much spirit to the label. Sandi Spika Borchetta, for being creative/brilliant/beautiful and buying me pretty things to wear. Penny Lazo, you are a crazy rock star. Andrew Kautz, if I ever walk into the label and you’re not there, I will not know what to do with myself. Natalie Kilgore, for your amazing sense of humor. Ray Pronto, for putting this Big Machine in motionnn.

I love the people who helped me get here. Arthur Buenahora, thank you for signing a FOURTEEN year old to a full writers publishing deal. I will never forget that. In fact, I love everyone at Sony Publishing. Pat Garet and Suzy Dalton for letting my little ten-year-old self open up for you. Harry Warner, for being such a gentleman and having my back at BMI. Frank Bell for being so brutally honest about my music from the time I was like 12, and so supportive of my career NOW. Andrew Orth for 14 years of great photos!! Paula Erickson for being the most stylish publicist in the world. Jody Williams, for listening to my rants about high school, and being such a dear friend and musicologist. HHS for supporting me 100%. Bob Taylor and Bob Borbonus at Taylor Guitars for believing in me and making perfection in the form of guitars. Mike Milom for being a genius and the best lawyer ever. Sarah, Ed, and Jim at GAC for taking such a vested interest in me, and PUTTING ME ON TV! CMT you’re awesome! Trey Fanjoy, because you are such a visionary and for directing an amazing video. Pete Fisher you are amazing. Rod Essig, for believing in me from the beginning and being so passionate about what you do. I Love Tim McGraw for making such inspiring music. I love Faith Hill for being the most graceful woman in the world. I love you, Jack Ingram. If at any point in my life, ever ever amount to being HALF as cool as you, I will throw myself a party. I LOVE RADIO because I haven’t met one person I don’t consider a friend. I love all of my myspace friends for taking such an active roll in what I do, I will never forget how you all rallied for me from the beginning.

I love everyone who’s inspired me to write a song, whether you know if or not. I love anyone who has ever turned the volume up when my song comes on the radio, anyone who has bought this album. Anyone who can sing along to my songs when I play them live. Anyone who’s ever requested my song on the radio, or even remembered my name. If you ever see me in public, I want to meet you. I will thank you myself. You have let me into your life, and I will never be able to thank you enough for that. I love YOU, and I love God for putting you in my life.

Love love love

-T-

PS: To all the boys who thought they would be cool and break my heart, guess what? Here are 14 songs written about you. HA.

— Taylor Swift (2006)

[rxyhiraeth]

thoughts on pjo ep 6

also SPOILERS FOR PJO

i’m just kinda getting all my thoughts out on this episode! it was very interesting and VERY different from the books but not in a terrible way! i trust uncle rick with this show and im more so just curious why some things were changed from the books so much, and im sure a lot of these are going to be answered themselves in these last 2 episodes.

i also love hearing everyone’s ideas about what is going to happen from this point on cause ik even book fans are LOST

no zebra moment! i can’t think of any other moments in TLT that would give us time to learn about percy being able to talk to them, so this is probably going to get brought up for the first time with the hippocampi in SOM which actually works out. i would have loved to see this scene, but i can get that it would have taken up a good chunk of time, and for production reasons probably had to be skipped for now or entirely cut from the season.

clarisse?? traitor?? *LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE* i have my thoughts on why they did this, but also not?? i figured they did this to balance out the conversation percy and annabeth have with hermes about luke in order to take some attention away from it as to not make it TOO obvious he is the real traitor, but also why even have that conversation about luke in the first place then?? idk. i’m not sure if this is something that will be explained or make more sense with the rest of the season, and if not, i hope uncle rick can explain why this choice was made. there are so many choices in this episode that i would love to hear explained as to why they decided on it!

going off the last point, i do feel like they are slightly forcing the luke is the traitor point for the audience. we never got this much about luke in the books while they were on their quest, and even when he was talked about, nothing really pointed in the direction of him being the traitor. maybe im just an idiot but i remember the luke reveal being pretty shocking! i hope they don’t force it too much and allow everyone to guess it before the reveal even happens! maybe this is just me wanting it to be just like the books, but i guess they do need to hint at it here and there in ways the books didn’t?

also am a little weary about the “old married couple” comment. i hope they don’t speedrun their relationship. this is a SLOWBURN i hope it stays this way!

i get not having poker face in the casino. rick HATES those movies and probably wants to make this as different as possible while still being accurate to the books. honestly tho, dua lipa was a good ass choice. i can’t complain about that.

HELLO I HEAR NICO!!!!

also CAMP JUPITER CAMPERS???? MAYBE???

besides being confused as to why the casino scene itself was pretty different from the books, it was a great event regardless. extremely well produced and was so fun to look at and watch for little details with everyone in the background. that being said, i was hoping for a bit more of a montage type scene. percy and annabeth didn’t get to have any real fun like in the books, it was mostly all grover. i don’t really know shit about production of tv shows and such, but i’m shocked the casino scene was changed this much from the book. but uncle rick i trust you wholeheartedly.

i did love them using the casino card to get a taxi to santa monica, but the hermes taxi in this was better. i was giggling the whole time. percy “i fought and killed a minotaur how hard can driving be” jackson my sweet child. and percy running the taxi into the damn wall because he was busy looking at annabeth??? love them so much

the only two things that REALLY confused me as they are changing major plot points:

1: 4 pearls?

2: the solstice is OVER??

the 4 pearls defeats the whole purpose of them arguing about who is going to stay in the underworld. either this plot point is going to change a lot, OR they are going to lose one of the pearls on the way, but if that is the case, what’s the point of giving them 4 if they are still going to end up with 3? i’m assuming it is going to be the former option, as getting 4 just to lose 1 for the sake of it doesn’t make much sense.

solstice??? over??? i’m very confused on this. this feels like it defeats the whole purpose of continuing the quest, but obviously percy is still determined to get sally (king), so we aren’t just ending the quest. i’m curious to see how these two plot points effect the rest of the season and why these were chosen instead of keeping the original plot!

overall i did really like this episode!! obviously it was very different from the book, but we can’t expect this entire show to be EXACTLY like the book. i would love to hear rick talk about a lot of the choices made throughout the season and why they were done. he has seemed very proud of this show and how it has played out, so i trust him with whatever he decides to do with it.

also if you have thoughts on the reasoning behind any of these changes PLS I WANNA KNOW

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Right Place in Time

Summary: What if Steve was in the woods with Chrissy and Eddie getting weed for his headaches?

@disrespectedgoatman @estrellami-1 @darkrose517 @panicatthediaz @mandriice @nightmareglitter @limpingpenguin @wonderland-girl143-blog

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen - Chapter Fifteen - Chapter Sixteen - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Steve was both relieved and terrified that the opening was big enough that they didn't have to go through the lake to get to the Upside Down. However, it made it much easier for them to get the stereo speakers through and set them up at Reefer Rick's. Steve watched Eddie put his hands on his hips and stared at the speakers.

"You know, we could have probably found some in here," Eddie said, and everyone stared at him. "What?"

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes at him. When they finally had the speakers set up, it was time to part ways. Steve immediately pulled Robin into a tight hug while Chrissy joined her uncle and cousin in a group hug.

"You better come back," Robin sniffed.

"Always," Steve said.

"I love you, dingus," Robin said.

"I love more," Steve said.

"I love you most," Robin said.

Steve moved away from Robin to pull Nancy into a tight hug. He was glad they were at this point where they could hug and not have it be awkward. He was glad that he was able to be friends with Nancy and not cling to the past. It was behind them now, and they both had so much more to look forward to. Steve pulled back, and she smiled tearfully at him. He turned and walked away.

"Steve?" Nancy called out to him and he turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Make him pay," she said.

Steve smiled sadly, knowing that she was thinking of Fred and Barb in that moment. He nodded at her, vowing to do so. Eddie suddenly leaned close to him.

"Okay, what did she say? Because I could have sworn that she said: make him gay," Eddie whispered.

"Make him pay," Steve stressed.

"Okay, yeah, that makes more sense," Eddie said.

Before they walked away, Wayne approached Nancy and pulled a tape put of his pocket.

"I figured you should probably play this," Wayne said.

"Fire Shroud?" Nancy asked, causing Frank and Eddie to gasp.

"When did you get that?" Eddie asked.

"When everyone fell asleep last night," Wayne said, shrugging. "Figured it be a good song to play for the distraction."

"Fire Shroud?" Steve asked.

"It's a Corroded Coffin original," Eddie said proudly. "It would have been the song that made us big had I not been an absolute dumbass and asshole. That's a story for another time."

"Well, when we get out of this, you can tell us all about it," Chrissy said.

"Ooh, speaking of fire! Nancy made extra molotovs!" Robin exclaimed and grabbed a bag before handing it to Steve.

Everyone looked at each other one last time, and then the group separated. Wayne and Matthew walked on either side of the three of them. Ellen walked behind them as they walked towards the Creel House.

"You know, I cried when Matty told me that he wanted to be called Matthew because he wanted to be the kind of man that I was, the kind of man that other people can look up to and who's there for other people," Matthew said. "I was so proud of him for being able to come me, for trusting me with that. I am still so proud of him. He was so proud of you too, Chrissy, just like I am. It's very brave, what you're doing. It's not too late to back out, though, huh?"

"Uncle Matthew!" Chrissy exclaimed, giggling and then paused. "Thank you."

"Well, had to try," Matthew said.

Steve smiled at them and tried not to think about his own parents. Maybe he should have called them. They're probably going to wake up tomorrow and spend all day relaxing by the beach. Maybe he'll save up money and take Eddie and Chrissy to Florida. That'd be nice. It took a while to get there, which wasn't surprising considering they were on foot and not in a car. Steve’s feet wished they were, though. When they arrived at the Creel House, Steve couldn't help but shiver at the sight of it. Here they go, into the lion's den.

Before they went in, Steve signaled to Dustin from the other side to let them know that they were near. It was something that Nancy had come up with when she remembered how Joyce communicated with Will through the lights. A moment later, he got a response back through his flash light.

"Alright, let's do this," Steve said and took Chrissy's hand.

They all walked into the house, carefully avoiding the vines as they moved. They crept carefully up to the attic, letting Chrissy go first. She pushed the door open, moving into the attic and letting the others follow. Matthew and Wayne pointed their guns along with Ellen. Steve raised his bat while Eddie raised his spear and shield. Vecna sat in the middle of the attic, his eyes closed, connected to several vines. Steve grimaced. He was disgusting to look at. He was as ugly as he was on the inside, Steve supposed.

He could feel eyes on him, and he found Chrissy looking at him. She looked terrified, and she held his gaze for a moment before turning to look at Eddie. He watched as she turned to face Vecna, a determined look etched on her face. Yeah, she's got this. Chrissy raised her hand and concentrated on trying to focus her powers. Vecna's arm snapped to the side and his eyes flew open as he screamed in pain.

"Chrissy," Vecna growled.

Ellen, Wayne, and Matthew started shooting. Fire. Steve cursed and dug through the bag. He pulled out a lighter and a molotov. He quickly lit it and threw it Vecna, who had started to stand up. Chrissy snapped his other arm, and he hollered as the flames shrouded his body. She snapped his leg and then the other. Vecna continued to scream, and using his powers, he flung Wayne and Ellen into the opposite wall.

"Uncle Wayne!" Eddie screamed.

Chrissy screamed and began to float in the air. Her eyes turned red as she glared down at Vecna. There was a loud popping sound, and Vecna could no longer see. Suddenly, it looked like she was controlling the fire and was she moving it. . .inside of him? Steve didn't get to wonder any further because a moment later, Vecna exploded.

"Holy shit," Eddie cursed.

Vecna was gone. Suddenly, Chrissy collapsed to the floor. Eddie went over to her and then paused.

"I've got her. Go check on your uncle," Steve said.

Eddie scurried away to Wayne, who was currently sitting up and rubbing the back of his head.

"I'm fine, son, no need to fret," Wayne said.

"We need to get out of here. The fire's spreading, and we need to get to the gate before it closes," Ellen said.

Matthew gave Steve his gun and scooped up Chrissy into his arms. Steve and Eddie helped the other two out of the house. Once they were out, they paused for a moment to catch sight of the Creel House bursting into flames. They quickly started moving back towards Lover's Lake. When they arrived, the others had already climbed through the gate. It was now smaller than before, which meant going through the lake itself. They moved quickly through the gate. Matthew held Chrissy tightly in his arms as they helped him swim to the surface. They swam to shore where Vickie, Robin, Nancy, Frank, and Rodney were waiting for them. Matthew lay Chrissy on the ground and started performing CPR. Eddie and Steve watched nervously from above them. Chrissy woke up with a gasp, coughing up the water from her lungs. She was awake, but she looked completely wiped, blood still under her nose and on her mouth.

"I'm okay," Chrissy said weakly.

A shot rang out. Everyone's head shot up, and Eddie collapsed to the ground, clutching his arm.

"I've been hit!" Eddie shrieked.

Jason came out from behind the trees, wielding a gun. He looked pale with bags under his eyes, and he looked completely manic. He was going to pull the trigger at again. Chrissy raised her arm, her hand shaking. She was too weak. Steve raised his bat and knocked the gun out of his hand. Jason screamed as the nails caught his skin. He charged forward, straight towards Eddie. Steve slammed the bat into his leg, and he collapsed to the ground, crying in pain.

"Good luck walking again, asshole," Steve said furiously and pointed the bat under his nose. "I want you to get the fucking word out to your friends. Stay the fuck away from Eddie and his friends. Stay the fuck away from Chrissy. Got it? I said: Do. You. Got. It?"

"Yes," Jason said, gritting his teeth.

Jason's friends came running out from the trees. Rodney and Ellen reacted immediately, raising their own weapons. The jocks froze and held up their hands. Matthew moved over to Eddie to check his arm.

"Am I going to live, doc?" Eddie asked.

"It's a graze. You're going to be just fine," Matthew said in amusement.

They met up with the others in the parking lot of Hawkins Lab. Max pushed her way through the crowd to hug Chrissy tightly.

"Are you okay?" Max asked.

"Yeah, just really tired. Could go for a light coma right about now," Chrissy said.

"God, that sounds nice," Eddie said.

"We'll Jason and pals to the police station. I don't see why you all can't go home now," Rodney said. "Get some rest."

"Can we just go to yours and call our parents from there to let them know we're having a huge slumber party?" Max asked Steve.

"Yeah. That sounds nice," Steve said.

They all drove over to Steve’s and the first thing they day was call their parents. After that, they all collapsed on the floor of the living room immediately. Steve grabbed pillows and blankets for everyone then for himself. Eddie and Chrissy were already fast asleep on the floor. He carefully pushed a pillow under their heads before laying one down for himself. He threw the blanket over them and collapsed against Eddie's back, throwing an arm around them both. He let everything go and fell into a deep slumber. They fucking won.

Chapter Nineteen

[puppymask]

I rly wanna pinpoint what exactly the breaking point was for the homo pro wrestling dreamteam situationship between Bill (Buck's dad) and Rick Ryder (Dick) was .... Being closer to each other than anyone else and basically living and sharing their lives together on the road 24/7...? I'm gonna go insane under the cut >_>

Like. Its totally a thing where they get rly close being on the road and working together and knowing each other, but then when Bill gets involved w Nikki, Dick doesn't just drop Bill cos he loves him a lot, but is like... ok... when are we getting back to Our Dream.... The Dream Team... But Bill is like look man it's the 80s. I cannot be seen having male friends I have GOT to take my chance to avoid the Rumours. If this beautiful awesome woman who could maybe kill me wants to settle down with me I think I should take it.

Dick probably would hang around for a lil while into Buck's childhood but then when he sees how Nikki is trying to "whip" Bill he gets sooo pissed. Now he says whip, but all Nikki is saying is "hey I don't think having your coke addicted pro wrestling carny weirdo bestie hanging around our toddler son."

And Dick, being the man of emotional immaturity and probably on like 3 different things, gets STEAMED thinking about Nikki trying to "control" who Bill hangs out with, but he doesn't seem to fully comprehend that being in a family means you need to keep your FAMILY safe!! Not keep your weird homo situationship with another man on the level.

Nikki never wanted a family or a husband or a kid but she's not Stupid, she knows she's obligated to keep her baby safe and so is Bill! She has her very good reasons for wanting every aspect of the business out of her life... The entire culture of the pro wrestling industry is like. Hostile to family life and stability lol. PLUS Nikki already fearing for her personal safety in the business, she's not willing to see her husband end up like Buck's uncle Dick over here.

Bill, unfortunately for Dick, is not the type of guy to disagree with his wife who keeps their home and their son safe, and he trusts Nikki knows what's best since babies and trying to be a family man scares the shit out of him. He's like, "Sorry dude I can't spend my 200$ envelope of cash from this week on blow and hookers I have to buy formula and diapers for my kid. Yeah my wife said so"

But Bill isn't a total non, he doesn't exactly love that Dick is currently jusy some Guy that sleeps on their hideaway in the basement, in his heart he feels the sadness and stress it puts on him to be torn between two halves of himself... Nikki is someone who advocates for him and sees the best in him, believes in his ability to be more than a blonde jock like everyone else sees him. Dick, though, is his partner, in business and in life. His best friend, someone who knows more about him than he does, and has always been there to hold him up when he needed to be carried. To Bill, Dick is the first person that he considered to be his other half– IN THE RING. Of course.

This is where everything sits for their inevitable huge blowout, where they go their separate ways and Buck asks every other week when he'll get to see Uncle Dick again. He misses wrestling with him on the trampoline, and misses having his cool uncle that always had his back when mom and dad were fighting. Nikki tells him to forget his stupid deadbeat uncle and that he is certainly NOT going to do anything like she and Bill did, and if he DOES wrestle it's going to be at a varsity level. But it's a hard to be raised surrounded by something like the pro wrestling industry and not have its glitz and glamour rub off on you...

Ouuhhhh how the cogs turn....

[alloutofgoddesses]

Percy Jackson TV thoughts -

Season 1, Episode 3

(I’m a book reader and I’m not holding back book spoilers)

The attic is show creaky

And apparently so is Percy

Walker is doing an incredible job portraying Percy’s “I hate everything” attitude

The craziest line reading it’s so stilted thank you Timm Sharp. Also condescending which is very Gabe

That’s awkward as hell why would you gather all the “good candidates”

BLACKJACK HIIIIIII BLACKJACK

Grover you’re killing me

That backpacks full of apples and tin cans you can’t fool me Underwood

Percy is SO FUNNY HELP

“Don’t mix ‘em up” Luke I know I can’t trust you stop being witty

THERE THEY ARE

Annabeth saying goodbye to Thalia… I’m losing it she’s just a BABY

I shouldn’t laugh but I think Thalia would so we’re good

Percy. She’s always in charge.

So no Seaweed Brain and Wisegirl? Rick when I find you

Percy you could’ve put them in your bag and left the box

The way Grover’s hair is styled to cover the horns more when they’re in the mortal world… hairdressers I love you

Can I have the full consensus song please I think it would actually be helpful

Also Grover being a 24 year old dealing with squabbling twelve year olds… Gods speed dude

Annabeth is so perfect. Like. She’s so annoying. It’s spot on. Annabeth is annoying in the books

SCREAM ALECTO!!! They hired the perfect actress for these lines

I get the plot reasons but if you had time to pick up anything WHY THE SHOES AND NOT THE BAG WITH MONEY IN IT PERCY

Please tell me they’re getting rid of the idea that demigods can’t use technology. I always thought it was dumb

Oh no Uncle Ferdinand…

Absolutely laying the tracks for Percy telling the gods to do better by their kids *chef’s kiss*

SO YOU FOLLOW IT? Grover you’re better than this

Hey. If the cyclops next season have those talons. I’m gonna be SO SCARED the whole time

MEEEDDDUUUUSSSSAAAAA!!!! I desperately want to cosplay this

I love the changes already

Percy… that beautiful fatal flaw

I mean yeah you’re mom is almost always right but still be on guard little man

Annabeth. I can’t wait for you to loosen up. She’s wound as right as a violin string.

*cheers from the crowd* I am fully on Medusa’s side btw. No matter what she was a victim of the god’s whims.

Annabeth my little baby you gotta think about multiple perspectives

The little milkshakes on the side. Does Medusa just wait for people to come along to feed or did she smell Percy from a couple miles away and really quickly whip stuff up

Thank god the box is being left behind

THE BASEMENT REALLY GUYS. There had to have been a back door

A MAIL CARRIER? What did a mail carrier do Medusa

I love that the snakes aren’t standing up like a lot of Medusa artworks portray… they’re noodles they wouldn’t be at attention all the time

Oh now THAT’S INSPIRED. Nkt as iconic as the reflective surface of an iPod though

Who’s gonna remind them there’s still one more. Also does this mean she’s a broken statue forever or since she’s a monster she’s reincarnating in Tartarus? I have so many questions

Oh Uncle Ferdinand. I’m glad Grover got to have an emotional moment that he wasn’t afforded in the book

Hell yeah good job Grover. Sometimes you Do have to be a little mean to get past some stuff.

Oh so we get the “I am impertinent” line verbatim but not SEAWEED BRAIN AND WISE GIRL

Percy I’m obsessed with you

Now who could this be

GAH LOOK AT HIM… he looks just a tad angry though lol

So does he have express straight to the throne room since he’s Hermes or did they change the placement of the elevator

AAAAAHHHHHH I need more immediately

Preview for next ep

Why are they splashing him

SHE’S ON THE BUS?!?!?!

Very excited for the arch… I’ve been there and I will be honest I only remember some of the museum stuff at the bottom and how claustrophobic the top is so I’m excited to hopefully jog my memory

[mariacallous]

(New York Jewish Week) — The corner of Ludlow and Rivington streets in New York City is now officially known as Beastie Boys Square.

The co-naming of this Lower East Side street corner — where the shop featured on the Jewish rappers’ second album, “Paul’s Boutique,” once stood — was the result of a 10-year effort spearheaded by Leroy McCarthy, an activist who has successfully lobbied for other New York City streets named in honor of rappers, including Notorious B.I.G. and the Wu-Tang Clan.  

Hundreds of New Yorkers packed the downtown intersection Saturday afternoon for the official unveiling of Beastie Boys Square. Though some kvetched about the humidity and the unexplained 80-minute delay, the Gen X-heavy crowd — plus a smattering of their offspring — was a respectful one, singing along to years’ worth of Beastie Boys songs played on loudspeakers as they waited for the ceremony to begin, and for the appearance of the two people everyone had come to see: Adam “Ad-Rock” Horovitz and Michael “Mike D” Diamond.

Horowitz, Diamond and Adam “MCA” Yauch, who died in 2012 at 47, formed their highly influential band in New York City in 1981. Though they started as a teenage punk band, they eventually pivoted to hip-hop — and after their first rap album — 1986’s “Licensed to Ill,” produced by fellow Jewish hip-hop fan Rick Rubin — produced a series of hits, the Beastie Boys became household names. 

The group followed up with 1989’s sample-heavy “Paul’s Boutique” — featuring the photograph of the Lower East Side street corner — which flopped upon its release but is now widely considered a masterpiece. Their next albums, 1992’s “Check Your Head” and 1994’s “Ill Communication” were cultural juggernauts, and four more albums followed.  

All three Beastie Boys have Jewish backgrounds: Horovitz, 56, grew up on Park Avenue, the son of playwright Israel Horovitz and a Roman Catholic mother. Diamond, 57, grew up on the Upper West Side; his father, Harold, was an art dealer and his mother, Hester, was a famous decorator and art collector. Yauch hailed from Brooklyn Heights, the only child of Frances, a Jewish social worker, and a non-Jewish architect.

In 2004, the group gave a very Jewish interview with Heeb magazine, in which Yauch disclosed he was trying to get his Uncle Freddy to teach him some Yiddish “so I could work some Yiddish lyrics on an album.” Diamond said he was raised by “a Barney Greengrass family,” referring to the famous Upper West Side appetizing shop.

Following Yauch’s death from cancer, the group disbanded. So, on Saturday, anticipation crept up alongside the mercury in the thermometer as the crowd waited to catch a glimpse of the remaining Beasties. 

But first, local politicians had things to say. Kicking off the speeches with a “mic check” or two was Manhattan Borough President Mark Levine, who put the Beasties’ Jewishness front and center.

“I was 16 when ‘Licensed to Ill’ came out — it was like a thunderbolt came down and struck me,” he said. “Now, I know these guys didn’t advertise it, but trust me: Every Jewish kid in America, we knew they were Diamond and Yauch and Horowitz.”

“Were you a Jewish kid in America back in the 80s and 90s?” Levine shouted to the crowd, and many — including this reporter — cheered back. “Yes you were! Personally, that was the first moment I realized there was maybe a faint hope that I could be cool. It didn’t work out, but I still have hope.”

As it happens, the Beasties have a few Jewish lyrics in their stable, including biblical references, a shoutout to Ellis Island, and Ad-Rock’s line “Well I’m a funky-ass Jew and I’m on my way/ And yes I got to say f— the KKK” on “Right Right Now Now” from the 2004 album “To the 5 Boroughs.”

Three other local politicians spoke: Assembly member Grace Lee and City Council members Carlina Rivera and Christopher Marte, the last of whom Levine credited with making Beastie Boys Square happen.

“You have no idea how hard it is to get a street renamed in New York,” Levine said of Marte. “He did it.” 

The activist McCarthy’s initial proposal for Beastie Boys Square was rejected by Community Board 3 in 2014 because the name change didn’t meet requirements. McCarthy was subsequently barred from reapplying for the name change for another five years. His renewed proposal was approved in 2022 with the support of Marte and other local politicians. In 2013, a small Brooklyn playground was named for Yauch. 

At last, it was time for the main event, and Horovitz and Diamond took to the stage while the crowd cheered. Horovitz, who said he “brought notes,” spoke first, exclaiming that he didn’t realize other people would be speaking. “Sorry if I’m saying what they said,” he said, thanking McCarthy and “everyone who loves Beastie Boys music.” 

“I don’t really understand why, but I know that I love it, so in a way that makes us kind of friends, right?” he added. “Like we bonded over these weird records, so thank you.”

He also thanked New York City, not only for the street renaming, but “for teaching us what to look at, what to listen to, what to wear, how to love, how to live.”

Next, Diamond took the mic, thanking the crowd for coming despite the heat. “Everyone is so dedicated, willing to put in the work to show the love, not only for this band, but, I think, everything we came from, coming from New York City.”

After giving a shoutout to his deceased parents, Diamond also expressed his love for New York, saying that the Beastie Boys couldn’t have come from anywhere else. “Growing up here in New York City and hearing all this incredible music, being all this incredible art, being around all these incredible people — this only in New York City,” he said. “So thank you so much, y’all.”

He concluded his remarks with moving words for Yauch, whom he described as their “brother on this amazing journey.” The crowd responded with chants of “MCA! MCA!”

But Horowitz, who appeared to get a bit verklempt as he concluded his speech, arguably summed up the meaning of the event best. 

“We walk around these streets and we don’t really think about who they’re named after, like Ludlow Street, Irving Street, Father Demo Square,” he said. “But it makes me really happy to know that some kid on their way to school 50 years from now is gonna pass by this and look up and be like, ‘What the f— is a Beastie Boy and why do they have a square?’ Just like I did when I was a kid, looking at Perry Street, Charles Street, wondering what it’s about.”