#she does it literally every season can’t they find something new

[darlinimamess]

no offense to kara but i cannot listen to another hope speech

[ziracona]

I’m finishing White Collar a decade later and it’s ruining my life

[lupinqs]

MIGRAINE ━━ paige bueckers x teammate!reader

☆ ━ summary: on big east media day, you’re unfortunate enough to get a migraine

☆ ━ word count: 2.9K

☆ ━ warnings: descriptions of migraines, throwing up

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, based off of this req

☆ ━ author’s note: two fics in one night omg WHO AM I??? also i promise this is not rlly dramatized y’all this is quite literally how my migraines are …….… wish i had a paige during them 😞

BIG EAST media day—it’s today. Usually, you don’t mind media days at all. Actually, you tend to enjoy them. But, clearly, today you’re not meant to.

As soon as the sun broke through the windows of the New York hotel, Paige had woken to the sight of your scrunched-up face, a hand pressed to your temple. You both knew what it meant: you had a migraine, and today of all days, it had to hit with full force.

Paige had immediately rolled out of bed, grabbing your migraine medication from your bag that you’d luckily remembered to bring in a “just in case” situation. However, you’d been resistant to at first, knowing full well that the medicine would upset your stomach like it always does, but Paige had insisted, forcing you to take it. “You know we can’t skip today. Just take it, baby. It’ll help with the pain.” Reluctantly, you’d taken the pills, and with an an hour, just as you were sitting in hair and makeup, the side effects hit. You’d bolted from your chair, leaving the startled makeup artist behind as you rushed to the bathroom to puke your guts up.

Paige had followed immediately, kneeling beside you in the small, cramped bathroom stall, rubbing your back as you heaved into the toilet. The nausea subsided eventually, but Paige was worried you’d thrown up all the medicine in the process. You hadn’t had time to find out, though—there were interviews to do, and you, always the professional, was stubborn enough to push through.

Now, you and Paige sit side by side, a row of reporters in front of you, microphones held up like weapons ready to attack. The lights in the gym are blinding, and the low hum of chatter, camera clicks, and reporters scribbling notes fill the space. It’s the last place you want to be.

Paige, sensing your discomfort, takes the lead in most of the interviews. She fields question after question, her voice steady and charming as she answers everything from season goals to the team’s camaraderie. Next to her, you sit rigidly in your chair, staring at the ground, fingers pressing hard into your palms as if trying to will the pain away.

Every so often, a reporter directs a question at you, and Paige watches closely, knowing that forming coherent, professional sentences is probably the last thing you want to do. Still, you force a tight smile and give a short, clipped response, voice strained but composed. The pain etched across your face is subtle, but it’s there—just enough for Paige to notice, though you try your best to keep your expression neutral.

It’s damn near agonizing for Paige to watch you like this, especially when she knows how badly you’re hurting. She can tell that the migraine’s wrecking you, she’s been there for so many at this point that she knows all the little signs like the back of her hand. She wishes she could turn the lights down, quiet the reporters, and just take you somewhere dark and silent to rest. But there’s nothing she can do—you just have to endure it.

As the interview drags on, one reporter, a man who looks younger and more inexperienced than the others and who’s clearly growing impatient with your curt answers, rudely points at you, addressing you by name before saying, “You really don’t look like you want to be here today. I mean, is something wrong with you?”

The words come out sharp and are strictly unprofessional. Your eyes flicker toward the reporter, though you can’t see half of him due to the darkness shadowing parts of your vision. You open your mouth, then close it, unsure of what to say. Your brain is hardly functioning, the throbbing in your skull is unbearable, and you can’t even muster the strength to care about his tone. All you want is for this to be over.

But Paige cares.

Her gaze snaps to the reporter, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Her posture shifts, body leaning slightly forward, protective instincts kicking in immediately. Usually, she’d stay more poised, composed, let her media training do the work for her. But she isn’t about to let anyone talk to you like that, especially not today.

“Excuse me?” Paige’s voice is sharp, cutting through the room. She’s sure that there’s a camera recording this right now but she quite literally could not care less. “What did you just say?”

The reporter, startled by Paige’s reaction, fumbles for a moment before stammering, “Um, I just mean that she looks… unwell. She’s not really answering the questions.”

Paige’s jaw tightens. “Maybe you should think before you speak next time. She’s here, answering your questions to the best of her ability despite not feeling great, and you should respect that instead of makin’ snide comments.”

The side of the gym they’re on grows even quieter, the weight of Paige’s words settling in the air. You, who’s still staring at the floor, blinks, heart swelling with gratitude. You don’t really have the energy to defend yourself, let alone sit up with your eyes open against the bright lights, but knowing Paige has your back—it’s everything.

The reporter, realizing he’s on thin ice, mutters an apology, his face turning red under the harsh lights. Paige doesn’t bother to acknowledge it, her focus shifting back to you, her hand subtly reaching out to squeeze your knee under the table.

The rest of the interview continues, but Paige’s attention is divided now. She keeps on eye on the reporters, answering questions with ease, but her other eye is always on you, watching closely. Your face has gone even paler, and every few minutes, your eyes flutter shut as if you don’t even have the strength to keep them open against the blinding pain.

Finally, the session begins to wind down, and as soon as the last question is answered, Paige is out of her chair, gently taking your arm and leading you away from the microphones and cameras. The two of you step into a hallway, away from the noise and lights, and as soon as you’re alone, you lean heavily against the wall, closing your eyes with a shaky breath.

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your temples. “Feel like my head’s about to explode.”

Paige wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “I know, baby. You did so good, though. We’re almost done, okay? Just a little longer, and then I’m taking you back to the hotel. Dark room, no noise, just you and me.”

You nod, though even that small motion seems to cause you pain. And you pray that she does good on that promise, especially as the two of you go back into the gym. You end up sitting on a bench next to Azzi waiting, resting your head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to block out the harsh gym lights and constant noise. Your head throbs with a relentless pulse, nausea rolling in waves, and your entire body feels like it’s on the verge of collapse. Azzi’s softly rubbing your arm in a comforting rhythm, whispering little encouragements.

But when Geno and CD approach, apologetically telling Paige that she and you have one more interview to do, Paige immediately starts protesting.

“No. No way. I can do it by myself,” she says firmly, already standing in front of the two coaches, shielding you from them like a protective wall. “She’s not in the right state for this. Just look at her.”

Geno and CD turn their heads to look over at you. You’re still slumped against Azzi, face pale and drawn. Your lips are pressed into a tight line, and your eyes are glossed over, clearly fighting back tears of pain. It’s not a pretty sight.

“I know, Paige,” CD says, eyes soft with sympathy. “We hate this as much as you do. But this interview is important. She’s got to do it, too.”

Paige’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “CD, come on,” she says in what can only be called a plea. “Please—she’s hurting. She’s in pain. You’re tellin’ me we can’t work somethin’ out?”

Geno sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wish we could, kid,” he tells her. “But this is the last one, I promise. After this, you can take her back.”

Paige mutters a curse under her breath, her frustration boiling beneath the surface. She glances back at you, who’s face is so pale and worn-out that it makes Paige’s stomach twist.

“Fine,” she says finally, voice tight with defeat. “But this is the last time I’m putting her through this.”

Geno and CD both give a nods of understanding, and Paige turns, making her way back over to you. Kneeling in front of you, she places a gentle hand on your knee. “Hey,” she whispers, her voice soft with regret. “I’m so sorry, baby, but we gotta do one more interview. Just one more, and then you’re done, yeah?”

You open your eyes, and the utter pain in your expression makes Paige’s heart ache. You look like you’re damn near about to cry, eyes brimming with unshed tears, but you nod weakly anyways, ready to do what you need to even though you’ve clearly hit your limit.

Paige sighs, hating this situation more than anything. She leans in, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, hoping in vain that it might ease some of the pain within your cerebrum. “I promise, after this, I’m taking you away, okay? I ain’t letting anyone stop us.”

You nod again, swallowing hard as you fight to keep yourself in check. Paige stands, gently helping you to your feet, and together, the two of you make your way toward the interviewers, you subtly leaning on Paige as much as you can, because if you’re honest, you can’t see most of your surroundings.

The interview itself is a nightmare. The questions seem never-ending, and although Paige answers most of them, there’s still some directed only at you that you’re responsible for. Each time, you know you sound stupid, voice hoarse and response almost incoherent. The lights are too bright, the noise too overwhelming, and by the end of it, you visibly look like you’d rather die than be here.

As soon as the interview is done, you don’t even wait for Paige. You rush out of the gym, once again heading straight for a hallway where it’s at least a little bit darker. Paige hurries after you, catching up just as you half-collapse against the wall, fighting tears.

“It hurts so bad, P,” you cry raggedly. You clutch at your head, hands trembling as you press them to your temples before moving them over to your eyes, squeezing them shut and pressing your palms against them hard. “I—fuck—I can’t—”

Paige’s stomach constricts. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you close, pressing your face into her neck to shield your eyes from any and all light. “Shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Paige whispers, making sure to be as quiet as possible, voice filled with soothing warmth. She gently rubs your back, rocking you slightly as you’re near-sobbing against her.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Paige murmurs thickly. “I shoulda fought harder to get you outta that. But I’mma take you back to the hotel now, okay? I don’t care what the fuck else we’re supposed to do today.”

You don’t respond with words, just nod weakly against Paige’s neck, fingers clutching tightly at the blonde’s shirt as if trying to ground yourself.

Paige carefully guides you to sit on a bench in the hallway, leaning you back against the cool wall. “Wait here for just a sec, okay? I’mma be right back, just gotta tell Coach and CD we’re leaving.”

You nod again, your eyes fluttering closed as you rest your head against the wall. Paige brushes her thumb over your cheek, her heart splinting all over again at the sight of you in so much fucking pain. Then, with determination in her step, Paige turns and goes in search of Geno and CD.

When she finds them, they’re in the middle of talking to a few other staff members, but Paige doesn’t care. She marches up to them, her expression set in stone.

“I’m taking her back right now,” Paige says firmly, unwavering. “I’m sorry, but I don’t care what else we’re supposed to do here. She’s in too much pain, and I’m not putting her through any more of this. And I’m definitely not sending her back by herself.”

CD looks like she wants to argue, but one look at Paige’s determined face, and Paige can tell the older woman knows it’s pointless. Geno sighs, his shoulders sagging.

“Go,” he says quietly. “Take her. We’ll handle the rest.” He gestures to himself and CD, then over to where Azzi, Ash, and Sarah stand.

Paige nods once, her gratitude unspoken but clear. She doesn’t waste another second, turning on her heel and heading straight back to you. Once she gets to you, she helps you up, wrapping a firm arm around your waist. The two of you head toward the doors and then are out into the cool air of the New York streets. The noise of the city hits you like a wall—cars honking, sirens wailing faintly in the distance, the chatter of pedestrians—but Paige moves quickly, guiding you down the sidewalk.

The hotel is technically within walking distance, but Paige refuses to put you through that. Instead, she stops at the curb, pulls out her phone, and hails an Uber.

“It’s okay,” she whispers as you press yourself against her side, hiding your face in her shoulder as the nausea rolls through you again. “‘M not making you walk, don’t worry.”

The car pulls up almost immediately. Paige helps you inside first, sliding in next to you and carefully pulling you into her side again, buckling your seatbelt for you. It’s probably the shortest car ride of either of your lives, and you don’t say a word for any of it, just continuing to rest your head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. Paige presses a soft kiss to your temple, reassuring you you’re almost there.

When the car pulls up to the hotel, Paige thanks the driver quickly, helping you out of the car with her hands steady on your hips. You cling to her without hesitation, your legs barely cooperating as, by this point, the majority of your body has gone numb. She doesn’t mind, though, guiding you through the lobby and toward the elevator. The ding of the doors makes you wince and Paige notices immediately. “I know, baby,” she murmurs softly, guiding you inside and pressing the button for your floor.

The ride up is quiet except for your unsteady breathing, and Paige’s grip never loosens. As soon as the doors open, she’s leading you to the room, swiping the keycard and pushing the door open in one smooth motion.

“Here we go,” Paige says gently, helping you inside. She lets you stumble toward the bed, watching closely as you basically collapse onto it with a shaky breath. Paige then moves to the windows, yanking the curtains shut until the room is bathed in near-total darkness. The relief is instant—you let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing just slightly as the pressure in your head dulls a little without the presence of light.

Paige isn’t done. She rummages through your bag until she finds your medication again, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge before kneeling next to the bed. “Hey,” she says softly, brushing your hair back from your damp forehead. “You gotta take this, yeah? It’ll help.”

You groan faintly in protest, turning your face into the pillow, but Paige doesn’t back down. “Ma, c’mon,” she coaxes, voice firm but still tender. “I know it sucks, but you gotta take it. Just one more thing, and then you can rest.”

Reluctantly, you crack your eyes open, barely able to see her face in the dark, but you feel the pill pressed gently to your lips. You take it without complaint this time, swallowing it down with a sip of water Paige helps you hold.

“Good job, baby,” she praises, pressing another kiss to your forehead. She sets the bottle on the nightstand before kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed with you, immediately wrapping her arms around you. She pulls you close, her chest flush against your back, one arm sliding under your head to cushion it while the other wraps proactively around your waist.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers softly into your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “It’s okay, baby. Just breathe. ‘M right here.”

You whimper faintly in response, you body still shaking, but you relax the tiniest bit in her hold. Paige’s touch is gentle, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your stomach as she tries to calm you down. She presses a soft kiss to the back of your head, murmuring sweet nothings that you can barely process through the pain.

A small sob escapes you as a particularly harsh stab to your skull hits. Paige only pulls you closer, holding you like she can absorb all of your pain into herself. “I know it hurts. I know,” she says softly, her voice cracking slightly as she wishes, more than anything, that she could take it all away for you. “But I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m here. Always.”

And she means it—Paige Bueckers would hold you through every second of the pain if it meant you didn’t have to face it alone.

[starlightwayfinder]

Do you have any headcanons about Ven you'd like to talk about?

Always!! Okay first, here’s the fluffy ones:

He gives good hugs. Really good ones. The kind you can just melt into! He brings a sunshiny warmth with him wherever he goes, both metaphorically and literally.

You could make him laugh with the cheesiest jokes ever. It wouldn’t be hard at all.

He can’t actually talk to birds/animals ‘Disney princess’ style, but they will let him get unusually close, or will approach him without fear. Terra and Aqua were baffled at first, but now they’re used to it and forget that other people will find it weird.

He’s got a decent book collection in his room. It’s mostly a mix of Keyblade history, astronomy, and fairytales. He and Aqua will sit together and have tea while they read.

He can and will fall asleep anywhere. Again, Terra and Aqua are just used to it by now.

He likes watching the sunrise almost as much as he likes stargazing.

He spars with Terra the most, and always gets upset that he’s holding back. Terra, however, is just trying not to send him flying by accident.

If he and Terra do roughhouse, (they are ‘brothers’ after all..) it’s very playful and all in good fun. Aqua just sighs and makes some comment about the friendship between boys. 

Unsurprisingly, Ven likes to feel the wind in his hair—which most of the time means going fast on his Keyblade glider. He would also love roller coasters, surfing, etc. 

He also loves flying and will go back to Neverland every now and then for more pixie dust.

He’s a fast runner and does pretty well in races on Destiny Islands, but he’s not a super competitive person, so he doesn’t care too much about winning.

He helps Kairi get into a training routine when she moves in. He becomes a bit of a mentor, but more in the sense of a fellow student/friend who already knows the ropes.

He has a cd player in his room for listening to his favorite songs. The others try to show him how to play music on his Gummiphone, but he doesn’t use it for much beyond taking pictures and the occasional phone call. He’d probably be a little shy about calls because it’s so unusual to him.

Since he was asleep for 10 years, he doesn’t know any of the new slang and has slightly outdated tastes, haha.

His favorite season is Spring, but he doesn’t dislike any of the seasons. You can bet that when the weather warms up, he’ll be outside enjoying the sun and looking for dandelions.

He enjoys all types of weather too—except for bad storms, which he’s always disliked.

He got a little bed for Chirithy that goes unused because they always fall asleep in his arms. 

And here’s the deeper ones:

Ven is overall a sensitive guy, which means he can’t stomach most violent or disturbing movies/games/etc. The problem with this is that he can’t stand being treated like a little kid either. I imagine he would be the sort to agree to watch something out of peer pressure… then be unable to fall asleep at night thinking about it. Finally Terra or Aqua has to step in and say “you don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable to fit in”. 

That sort of thing is frustrating for him in general. Thanks to everything that’s happened to his heart and mind, he technically *is* kind of younger—yet, it’s also just his personality and who he is. It’s not necessarily due to a lack of maturity. 

That being said, I think he’d be really good with kids—and I know I’ve said it before somewhere, but he would make a great camp counselor or something. Can’t you imagine him leading activities or songs with a group of kids?

He’s more shy in UX because he’s surrounded by older Keyblade wielders and used to being rejected by them (since he doesn’t bring much to the table in terms of physical strength or magical ability.) In BbS, he’s more outgoing because he’s been living with the same people for years and it’s all exciting and new. He’s always been an introvert, but he still loves making friends… It just doesn’t come quite as naturally to him as it does to Sora, and Ven’s more likely to think he did something wrong if someone dislikes him. 

In other words, he’s the sort of guy who would go to a party and end up sitting on the floor to pet the dog the whole time.

If someone does hurt his feelings, however, he’s quick to forgive them and try to restore the relationship.

Thanks to Ven being a more sensitive person, he’s very comforting and compassionate: a trustworthy friend to talk to when you’re feeling down. He’s especially nonjudgmental and a good listener. I imagine most of the guardians’ first impression of him is either ‘quiet and unassuming’ or writing him off as silly / immature. Typically, only Terra and Aqua see that deeper side of his personality—but if the opportunity arises, he gets a chance to shine.

Since he’s pure of heart, he really can’t wrap his head around *why* people would use the darkness/be cruel to others intentionally. It doesn’t click in his mind at all. He’s not ‘innocent’ in the sense of being *ignorant* to that sort of thing, but rather just never feeling the urge to act that way. Does that make sense?

He’s a genuinely good, sincere guy. I love him 💖

[thursdayinspace]

fic master post

I think I have enough fic at this point to make a master post, collecting them all in one place. Organized chronologically for now, there isn't quite enough to make categories. :)

wild side - G, 1,205 words (AO3 link)

“Hey, Scully?” “Yeah?” “What is the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” Or: sometimes being stuck in the middle of nowhere on a dark and stormy night with your work partner of five-plus years is the best possible version of events.

in conclusion - T, 3,370 words (AO3 link)

It's the middle of the night in a freezing cold motel room and they both haven't slept. The best time and place to figure out how relationships work -- theirs in particular.

time and space - M, 2,604 words (AO3 link)

Sometimes he wonders if it would be easier if she'd be gone from his life completely. Then he reminds himself: if she moved to the ends of the earth he would still want to follow her. And when she calls, he always answers the phone. Set during the revival era. They always find their way back to each other.

five ways to says "I love you" (plus one including words) - T, 4,501 words (AO3 link)

Just because something is unspoken, it isn't always unsaid. You just have to know what to look for.

sanctuary - T, 1,550 words (AO3 link)

In a world full of lies and fear and darkness, they have each other to be the light and shelter that they need. That's something to hold onto. They watch each other sleep and consider everything that means.

mend into pieces - Explicit, 1,641 words (AO3 link)

There is nowhere she would rather be than here, with him, making the biggest mistake of her life and enjoying every second of it. Every mistake made with him is greater than every win, every success, every moment of perfect joy she has ever experienced. She’ll break herself for him as he does for her. -- Set in early season 2, right after Scully's return.

travel in style - G, 1,401 words (AO3 link)

“I can’t believe there wasn’t a single room available anywhere,” Scully says, snuggling deeper under the jacket she’s using as a blanket, already sounding half asleep as she tilts the driver’s seat back into a reclined position. “Three motels and not one single bed to be found.” Mulder shifts in the passenger seat – which she had insisted he should take because of the leg room – and desperately tries to get comfortable. “That has literally never happened before,” he agrees, sliding the seat back as far as it will go. It’s still too cramped. “God, Scully, how can you ever sleep in the car? You always make it look so easy.”

from this morning forward - Explicit, 7,233 words (AO3 link)

Moving back in happens slowly. It's not a decision, it's not a plan. They've each battled their own demons, and now that the wounds are starting to heal, she's so tired of pretending that she doesn't miss him every day. After all, through the good times and the bad, it's always been the two of them, together. -- Set during the revival era.

it's the day the world didn't end - Explicit, 1,544 words (AO3 link)

The clock ticks over to the day the world doesn’t end and he kisses her. She kisses him back. It’s not a new year’s kiss, it’s a kiss more than six years in the making. -- Millennium fic.

got you covered - T, 2,419 words (AO3 link)

“Is it a bit cold in here?” He wraps his arms around himself, looking at her in her thick cardigan next to him on the couch. “The heating’s broken,” she says. “I’m sorry, I should have called you before you came over.”

words behind the meaning - G, 3,175 words (AO3 link)

He tells her he owes her everything and she owes him nothing. She knows that's not true, but she doesn't get to tell him. Life has other plans. But she knows. And once life lets her, she will tell him. -- Post-Fight the Future: they don't kiss in that hallway, but they get there eventually.

tuesday - M, 894 words (AO3 link)

They get married on a Tuesday. It just feels like the time is right. They've waited long enough; it doesn't matter that they're only just beginning to realize that.

yesterday's future - Explicit, 3,189 words (AO3 link)

They deserve to be happy. It's not too much to ask. It's something worth fighting for, something to hold onto; the light at the end of the tunnel. That is the one thing they promise each other above all else: a future where they don't have to run anymore.

spectacular - Explicit, 2,238 words (AO3 link)

They make rules, and they make them for good reasons. No kissing at work. Definitely no sex during work hours. And they would absolutely, definitely, under no circumstances ever break their own rules. (with wonderful art here)

ellipsis - Explicit, 3,758 words (AO3 link)

He's a free man again – it’s what they’d barely dared to dream. Now, she barely dares to ask him what he wants to do with his freedom. He doesn’t know.

beyond a doubt - T, 1,164 words (AO3 link)

Maybe their second meeting will be better than their first. He’s here even though the world has fallen apart. And she’s afraid. What will she do, what can she do if it’s not really him? If they have succeeded at last, destroyed him and left only an empty, Mulder-shaped hull in an awful prison suit. or: the kiss from The Truth, told in 1,000 words.

the ginger invasion - G, 723 words (AO3 link)

Mulder is sick. He never gets sick, and it's awful. It's terrible. Scully will be wondering why he isn't at work. He should call her. He just about manages to lift his head and there she is, Scully, in his bedroom doorway.

starstruck - G, 671 words (AO3 link)

"So, I guess she's sticking around, then?" Frohike asks, and Mulder looks up from . . . whatever it is Byers just put on the screen in front of him and nods. "Seems that way. At least for now." -- Mulder has a crush. The gunmen know it.

how many stars - G, 472 words (AO3 link)

"What are you thinking?" she asks, and he turns his head to the side, looks at her. "The universe," he says.

had you big time - G, 540 words (AO3 link)

"I've thought about our weekend away," he whispers against her lips, before he kisses her again. "I've had the perfect idea."

tasting raindrops - G, 385 words (AO3 link)

She laughs with him and can't look away, raindrops clinging to his lashes, water dripping from his nose -- not kissing him in this moment would defy every law of the universe.

what time do you call this? - G, 495 words (AO3 link)

He stirs as she carefully lowers herself onto the mattress and she pauses, not wanting to wake him. It's way after midnight and it's enough if one of them will be entirely sleep-deprived the next day.

distractions - G, 1,181 words (AO3 link)

He wants to ask if she’s okay, but he knows the answer to that. And she’s told him more than once that she doesn’t want to talk about it. She says she has no memory of what they did to her. Sometimes he’s not sure he believes her.

heaven and hell - T, 996 words (AO3 link)

Hell doesn’t burn. There is no pit of fire. Heaven isn’t a green garden under a cloudless sky. Everything is made of moments, and they don't happen on schedule. But often, they happen with his hand in hers.

coffee and pancakes - T, 1,881 words (AO3 link)

It’s amazing, he thinks, how quickly you can get used to things just because they feel right. It’s been no more than a few weeks since they unpacked the last of her boxes; there hadn’t been many to begin with. She had left a lot of stuff behind when she’d moved out and barely acquired new things during the time she’d been away. Everything is back where it belongs now. or: Scully has moved back in and Mulder is realizing that a home is not just four walls and a door.

no longer dreaming - Explicit, 2,626 words (AO3 link)

She refuses to do anything while he still has his arm in a sling. And while his body is straining towards her with every cell, deep down he’s grateful. All these years they’ve waited. He doesn’t want to rush this now. -- Post-millennium, they finally let themselves have what they've both wanted for so long.

home furnishings - Explicit, 5,008 words (AO3 link)

It starts with a sprained ankle and frustration about a broken chair. He knows it’s not IKEA’s fault. He and Scully have gone through a number of chairs over the years. But he thinks a billion-dollar multinational company will survive the scorn of one grumpy customer. (or: Mulder writes reviews. Mulder also loves Scully.)

[steviescrystals]

sorry i’m actually not done this is my diary now

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

[radiobyers]

why mike’s sexuality can’t affect his relationships fate — no matter what his sexuality is:

an analysis of m*leven’s relationship & specifically why i believe that mike being straight still would not equate to him & eleven being endgame.

mike wants nothing more than to feel special for his differences, but el sees him — & being with him — as normal & undeniably, mike’s life has been a lot more “normal” than hers. el wants nothing more than to live a normal life but mike sees her as a “superhero”. el lies to him about her life in california to cope with bullying. she can’t control the bullies but she can escape through fantasy & make mike believe that she’s settling in.

the duffers describe mike as a kid who “escapes” through fantasy gaming. he learns to play d&d to cope with bullying because pretending to save the party from supernatural forces makes him feel stronger. in season 4, he can’t comprehend why el can’t find comfort in being a “superhero” when she’s experiencing bullying, because all he wants is to feel like a superhero. (linked: see page 13, titled: “the kids”. sentence 4 under “will byers”.)

i made a post a while ago about the above scene’s parallel, here.

el admiring things in nancy’s bedroom, calling nancy pretty & asking mike if she’s “still pretty” without nancy’s wig on, has nothing to do with mike at all. it is el trying to comprehend & take on the life of a normal girl. nancy was the first girl she had seen outside of the lab & the life the wheeler’s lived was very new to el. it is a consistent plot line that she just wants to be a regular child. it’s why her friendship with max is so good for her. max wants to partake in typical teenage girl activities & shows el how to join in.

however, el’s new interest is not something that she can enjoy with mike. season 3, episode 2 makes it clear that while el is really enjoying her time shopping with friends, mike hates every moment of his. as a matter of fact, none of mike’s interests can be shared with el either. they quite literally don’t share any common ground other than both liking presents. that sounds like an over-exaggeration but it isn’t. mike even stops playing d&d when el is around, but as soon as she moves away, he becomes passionate about it again.

they don’t watch movies together, they don’t bond over food & they don’t have any real conversations, unless they’re talking about the upside down. lucas & max see movies together, read comics & have inside jokes. dustin & suzie bond over movies, sing together & share most of the same nerdy interests. in comparison to other couples their age, mike & el don’t seem to connect. here’s an example of how differently lumax & m*leven bond from season 3, episode 5:

max & lucas are both happy to sit together, snacking & reading. mike & el are sitting beside them reading the ingredients list on a packet of m&ms. they’ve just gotten back together but instead of catching up or talking about it, they’re reading the contents label on a packet of m&ms… the directors could have given them something else to converse over, but alas, i have nothing to suggest as a replacement.

the m*leven-byler triangle

while this love triangle is complicated, will being in love with mike is not a spanner in the works. in season 4, will does not intend to break these two up, nor is he prepared to expose his feelings to mike. will isn’t an obstacle that m*leven needs to overcome. so why are his feelings so involved in the plot? foreshadowing!

will, a queer character, has a false understanding of mike & el’s relationship. he thinks that they’re happy & in love but they’re anything but happy in st4. however, will does not know that so he gives up hope & waits for his feelings to pass. except they can’t pass, because he’s getting mixed signals. doesn’t that situation sound awfully familiar? you’re thinking of robin & vickie.

in case you need a reminder; robin loses hope that vickie may love her back because she assumes that vickie is already happily in love with a boy. however, vickie’s boyfriend breaks up with her shortly after this so apparently they were not all that happy or in love. the foreshadowing here is that m*leven are headed in the same direction as the “happy couple” in robin’s scene.

vickie’s sexuality was not mentioned in the show at all, yet, the audience believes her to be queer from her actions. do you see how easy it was for them to break up a presumably straight couple & introduce one of those characters as queer?

however, the interesting difference between robin & will in these scenes is that robin looks devastated but will does not look heartbroken at all. in fact, he looks happy. mike however… he looks all over the place. i have no idea why mike’s expressions change so drastically, but i do know that finn wolfhard is a very expressive actor, so i’m willing to bet that he’s trying to convey a mixture of mike’s emotions here.

final note on this: if you read this far, i love you!! i could go on but this is way too long. i’d like to say that i do believe that there’s a lot of love between mike & el but ultimately, their love is not compatible. i may do a contrast post where i discuss how aligned mike & will’s hobbies/goals are because it was fun to get this out of my brain. anyway, i am 100% sure that no other character will be at fault if they aren’t endgame, because they were never built to last in the first place.

[censoring the ship name so it doesn’t show up for shippers]

[rise-my-angel]

i agree with your last post wayyyy too much. i can’t do jon snow haters or people who say that dany had every right to burn down kings landing because they k!lled her best friend. okay??? what about the thousands of innocents. she had a whole army, she could have just gone for cersei or been an actual leader and not taken revenge on her own ‘people’. like??? also if you support jamie lannister being a king slayer and k!lling aerys to save thousands of lives (which ill assume most of the fandom does) then jon did the exact same thing. yes they both ‘betrayed’ people they served but it saved thousands of lives.

my only argument in dany’s defense is she should have never gone ‘mad’. the writers should have never made her get on dragon back and burn down an entire city, but since she did, then she has got to GO.

The thing is, is that the burning of Kings Landing has been a LONG existing prediction by book readers of what Dany will do once she reaches Westeros. It has been theorized for YEARS before Benioff and Weiss were likely ever told about the books planned ending beats.

But, it won't be because she's mad. It will be a calculated move on purpose, no madness, just self righteous justification that because they didn't want her as Queen, they should die.

In the show, Dany has posed this multiple times. Dany in the show over the years does NOT hesitate to say she wants to burn cities to the ground, make her enemies die screaming, and has routinely posed situations where her options are literally bend the knee or die.

For example, this is a snippet of dialouge from season 8 after she burned Kings Landing and one million people with it.

Jon: "What about everyone else? All the other people who think they know what's good." Dany: "They don't get to choose."

This sounds extremely like something Dany says to Jorah in season 4 when he informs her that the masters have disregarded her laws almost as soon as she left Yunkai.

Dany: "He will tell the masters what has happened in Meereen. He will explain the choice they have before them. They can live in my new world or they can die in their old one."

This is the exact same scenario. You either live in Dany's world exactly as she dictates it, or you die.

There is no actual choice she is giving the masters, it is her way or death. Exactly like she plans to do to the rest of Westeros. Season 8 was not out of character.

Jorah says in this very scene that it is tempting to always see your opposition as evil, but that by always treating those who oppose you as such, it is the good and innocent who will get caught in the crossfire, and she says that she has no interest in entertaining what other people think is good and evil, she does as she sees fit.

One Barristan dies, she leads whats left of the leaders of noble houses to where her dragons are locked away, and lets one burn a man alive with abosutely no proof these men had anything to do with it as a threat that she will do the same to them. Again, with no proof that the masters or noble houses of Mereen have ANY relation to the Sons of the Harpy.

Upon a rewatch, one will find Dany says a LOT of very concerning things that foreshadow whats to come. This is going to happen, this was always going to happen. Dany was not going to burn the Red Keep, because thats the castle her family built with the throne her family created. Its the symbol of everything she wants and thinks she's entitled too.

But the people? These people who in the show and likely books, will not see kindly to this foreign occupier who uses her dragons to scare people into submission and will not yeild their Queen or King to her? Well, they are in her way. They refuse to join her new world, so they die in their old one. She doesn't need the people of one city to take the throne as long as theres still a throne to sit upon.

Dany routinely sees evil in her enemies with no grey area. Jon, otherwise is a man who looked his enemy in the eye (lord commander of the nights watch who betrayed them as a spy up against the wildlings he spied on and defeated in battle), and said (paraphrasing) "We don't have to be friends, but you, your children, and your children's children all deserve to survive. Let me protect you."

When everyone hated him for it. But he did it because it was the right thing to do. Jon has always given men at their worst chances at redemption. Thats what the Nights Watch is, so many of them were criminals, murderers, rapists, but Jon lets them prove they are better then their worst parts and only punishes with due justice when they commit the re offending behavior. Jon doesn't kill Karl Tanner in a brutal way beacuse he likes it, he only killed him like that when his back was turned, because Karl was about to kill the innocent girl who helped Jon by stabbing Karl in the back when he had Jon pinned.

Dany has no right to burn down Kings Landing, there is no excuse for it. But she will not beacuse she is forced too, or by accident, or through madness. No, it will be a calculated, purposeful decision that she will choose to do this, because thats how she has chosen to commit every atrocity she's ever done, which when you tally it up, is shocking and disturbingly high.

It was a massacre of extreme proportions that she was proud of. Wheras Jon felt extreme guilt for not saving every free folk when the army of the dead massacred Hardhome, when that was completely out of his control or power, and when he still in fact, saved over 5000 lives of what was supposed to be his greatest enemy.

The completely unbelievable joke of a romance aside, the Jon we know would not have hesitated to kill her. That is one million lives she murdered in the most brutal fashion because she didn't get what she wanted.

But we know why Jon would want to kill her for it, beacuse she answered the very question he posed in season five in the most terrifying way possible.

Jon: "Isn't their survival more important than your pride?"

Dany said no, and massacred the very same people Jon has been trying to save for years. I was being factious when I said Jon should've killed her harder, but it's still true. Dany in the show became exactly what the books are leading up to. But people were tricked through the framing that beacuse Dany thinks shes the world's main character, that she's always in the right, when she very often isn't.

It was always coming, and it was never out of character, beacuse Dany was always this way. At the burning of Kings Landing, she finally just allowed herself to be honest about it.

Jon was right to kill her for committing the exact mass slaughter that Jaime killed Aerys II for being about to commit.

The Targaryeans are fire and blood, and they paid the price for it.

[hochsleep]

Chapter 1: Just survive somehow

• Era: Season 1

• Warning: profanity, typical TWD violence.

• Summary: You and your little sister Lottie have to escape from the walkers in the forest. You both almost become lunch for the living dead, but suddenly you are rescued by a stranger, and thanks to persuasion you manage to get to his camp in the quarry. But it seems that the relationship between you does not work out. You will have to find an approach to him, because otherwise you will not survive.

• Word count: 4k

• A/N: Well, I've written...something. I actually have no idea how I'm going to combine this fanfic and the Daryl Dixon x OC fanfic on ao3 (there's a link in the pinned post on my profile page if you're interested), but I'm going to try. Yeah, I literally wrote in an introductory post a couple weeks ago that I wouldn't be writing big works on Tumblr and where are we now? I haven't been very consistent in what I've said. Anyways, posting the first chapter now.

I know it might be a bit boring in the beginning now, I'm not a big fan of the first episodes or chapters in series and books myself, but you have to start somewhere. I'm still just getting into the subject of Y/N fanfics, so I'll be learning as I write the work. What I can say now.

Please correct me in the comments if you find mistakes! Of course, I double-check my work before publishing, but something could still slip through. Especially since you, as an English-speaking audience, will be more attentive to turns of speech, slang and so on. Let me remind you that English is not my native language and I use a translator (you can read more about it in the attached post in my profile). So feel free to make corrections, I am always open to help and constructive criticism!

Oh, and also, congrats to everyone on the release of TWD: Daryl Dixons season 2!

Enjoy reading!

Then.

"Come on, Lottie, hurry up!" - you shouted to your little ten-year-old sister, who ran after you between the trees in the forest.

“Y/N!” a little girl shouted, following you but lagging behind every now and then.

A few walkers was getting closer, and it was like Lottie could barely move her legs. She had to run faster. She should have saved herself. But could you blame a ten-year-old girl? She’d had to lose her family and friends in the last few days, and there were the living dead walking the earth. The world has changed at the snap of a finger. Lottie probably still hoped it was just a bad dream.

You too.

You had to watch your neighbor across the street, Mrs. Faulkner, pounce on your mother and start biting chunks of skin off her neck without much effort. That's hardly realistic. But that's life now. All those radio warnings about a virus spreading in Europe turned out to be true. That it was incurable. That the dead will rise up and walk the earth again. That their bite would kill you and make you come back to life after a while. It all seemed so distant and unrealistic that you, like most Americans, just changed the channel on the TV or radio when you heard the news of the virus again. After all, there's been a lot of crap and "incurable" diseases throughout human history. If a plague in the Middle Ages couldn't kill the entire world's population, why would some disease do it in 2010 when medicine is booming almost everywhere in the world? Bullshit.

Where are you now? Running with your little sister through the woods while at least four walking corpses are chasing you? This whole thing really does feel like a cheap horror movie. Or a scary dream. A scary dream in a cheap horror movie.

“Lottie! You can’t stop!” you screamed while your little sister looked back and slowed down at every opportunity.

You had a hard time running yourself. Not that you’ve been a fanatic about physical activity in all the years of your life. Yoga and Pilates were your max and only on feel-good days. But the adrenaline in your blood was doing its thing and it allowed you to run faster and longer. Which was not the case with your sister. The girl was tired and breathing hard. She kept looking back to see how close the walkers were to the two of you, even though you had forbidden her to look back.

“Y/N, they’re close! They’re going to catch up with us!” shouted Lottie panting.

You started frantically looking around for a place to take cover. Apparently Lottie wouldn’t be able to run for much longer. You were breathing hard, too, and your legs were sore from the exertion. You had to hide. But where the hell could you hide in the middle of the woods? In the long run, you could hide behind a large tree, but the walkers had already spotted you and were following you, so that option was no longer viable. Climb a tree? You could if you knew how to climb trees. But even so, how long can you and Lottie stay in a tree? You’d have to come down sooner or later, and walkers don’t feel tired or weak, so you couldn’t expect them to give up and fall asleep at some point. No, they’re going to wait until the food comes down from the tree. And again, you can’t climb trees. But Lottie can. What are the chances she’ll agree to climb a tree while you distract the walkers? What’s the chance you’ll survive? How’s she gonna get back down and survive in the woods alone? She’s barely ten years old, for goodness sake, and she didn’t get out into the wild until the last few days! You're all she's got. She's all you have. So it’s just the two of you hiding and surviving together.

“Come on, sweetie, just a little more!” you grabbed your sister’s hand and dragged her forward.

Now.

“Carl! That’s not fair!” shouted Lottie as the boy stuffed the last five hazelnuts into his mouth and grinned cockily.

“It’s all fair, whoever got there first takes it all,” Carl said with his mouth full.

“I’ve just turned my back and you’ve already eaten it all! We’re out of nuts!” frowned Lottie.

“Daryl will find more when he goes hunting,” Carl only shrugged innocently.

“Then you’ll have to ask him yourself,” Lottie snorted and got up from the plaid she and Carl were sitting on.

Lottie approached Carol and Sophia, who were ironing clothes. Sophia’s father was a cruel man as far as Lottie could tell. He had forbidden his daughter from playing with the other two children at camp simply because he had decided to. And now the creepy man sat on a folding chair with a bottle of beer in his hand and strictly made sure Sophia stayed close to her mother and helped her with her “women's responsibilities” as he called it. It sucked.

“Hi, Sophia,” Lottie smiled at the girl, “and Mrs. Pelletier,” she nodded to Carol.

“Hello, honey,” Carol smiled gently at the girl. Sophia looked at her father warily and not noticing the vehement objection on his face, she smiled and nodded to Lottie.

“Carl ate all the nuts, but I brought you what I managed to salvage,” Lottie pulled a few hazelnuts out of the pocket of her jean shorts and held them out to her friend.

“Thank you,” Sophia said quietly and quickly tucked the nuts into her pocket while her father turned away.

“When can you play with me and Carl? Maybe tonight?” asked Lottie hopefully.

“Maybe tomorrow?” answered Carol for Sophia when she saw her head lowered frustratedly. “I’ll talk to Daddy, honey,” said the woman to her daughter, stroking her back.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Lottie sighed and went on to find something else to do besides playing with Carl. She was still mad at him a little about the nuts.

You were on duty on the roof of Dale’s motorhome, a kindly older man who tried to change you every twenty minutes and told you to go get some rest. But the duty was actually a rest. You just sat on a folding chair on the roof of the car and watched the surroundings. Dale and Glenn were basically doing the same duties, only with a shotgun in hand. Just in case. You weren’t trusted with a shotgun. It didn’t make much sense since you couldn’t shoot. And you weren’t very good at close combat. So you just had to keep an eye on the area around the camp and warn them of possible danger. It’s no big deal. Except that the merciless Georgia sun was as hot as anywhere in Africa. It seemed that way to you, anyway. You were sweating in every part of your body, your hair sticking to the damp skin on your back, your clothes wet with sweat, and you were as tanned as if you’d gone to a tanning salon. The only thing that kept you warm was the powdered lemonade Dale had made, some old nature magazine from the glove compartment of Shane’s jeep, and the cowboy hat Andrea had lent you. Even though you've spent the last ten years of your life in Georgia, you've managed to hide from the heat until this day. Whether at home in your stepdad's garage under a fan while he blames his barely living car. Or at work in the supermarket by the house. There were old air conditioners that you thought were your age, but you didn't complain as long as they worked. Especially hot days you spent in a cozy old cafe from the 50's, where your mother worked as a waitress and let you lounge for hours in the coziest booth close to the fan. In general you had no need to sit under the sun in such hellish heat without a hint of shade. How could there be any shade on the roof of an old mobile home? You have to melt like a piece of butter on toast.

You heard someone climbing up the ladder to the roof. It definitely wasn't Dale, you'd have realized from his static grunts. It was Lottie. Her old pink cap appeared before you saw your sister.

“Hey,” you smiled at your little sister, “I thought you were hanging out with Carl and Sophia.”

“Carl’s a jerk today, and Sofia can’t play with us, her dad won’t let her,” the girl snorted and sat on your lap, because sitting on the sun-hot roof of the car wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Hey, I’d take a swear jar from you right now,” you tried to look at Lottie with a stern big sister look, but it never really worked. It looked ridiculous and hardly got any respect from the kid.

“Sorry,” the girl sighed, “but Carl is really behaving badly today. He ate the last of the nuts while I was distracted and didn’t even have a chance to protect them…”

“Are you really upset about the nuts?” you chuckled.

“No, more of an injustice…I was hoping we’d split the nuts fairly between the three of us, but Carl ruined it,” Lottie rested her head on your shoulder sitting on your lap.

It was so damn sweet. The way Lottie loves you. There’s often tension between sisters, but not in your family. Charlotte was born when you were 13 and that’s a really big difference, but you always wanted a brother or sister. And even though sometimes you had to miss seeing your friends to take care of Lottie when Mom and your stepfather, your little sister’s father, were working late, you still loved Charlotte with all your heart. Although it’s hard not to love her. She had a mild-mannered personality, rarely acted cranky, and sometimes acted like a little adult. At least you were a more rambunctious child at her age, according to your mother and other relatives. Only as you got older did you become a calm and peaceful person, and as a child you could afford to kick the asses of the boys who hurt you in junior high school. Charlotte, on the contrary, preferred to solve conflicts peacefully and disliked violence already at the age of ten. The age when children can be really violent, but your sister was not. Now, however, she seems to be really angry with Carl. But it’s probably because of all the stress you’ve both been under for the past three weeks. Everyone’s been on edge right now. That’s the way the world is now.

“I’ll find you some new nuts in the woods,” you said, stroking your sister’s soft hair.

“You’re afraid to go into the woods,” sighed Lottie.

“I’ll ask Glenn or Amy to come with me.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to ask Daryl? “Lottie looked at you in anticipation.

Oh, that’s right. Daryl. Well, that was a bit of a problem.

Then.

You tugged at Lottie’s arm, who was stumbling at almost every step. The walkers were coming faster and faster. Your courage and confidence were running away from you just as fast. But you did not let go of your sister’s hand and kept moving forward.

“Y/N!” the little girl’s shrill cry echoed throughout the forest.

You turned around and saw one of the walkers grab the hood of Lottie’s sweatshirt. A tall man with a rotten open wound near his collarbone, with gray cadaverous skin, white eyes, and rotten teeth and nails. Death itself came closer than ever to you and your sister. And you had no idea what to do.

“No! Let her go!” you screamed in panic at the walker as if he could understand you.

“Y/N!” large tears flowed down the little girl’s cheeks.

You closed your eyes, preparing for the worst. You knew it would happen sooner or later. From the moment your neighbor ate your mother. From the moment your stepfather John set himself up to feed the walkers two days ago so you and Lottie could escape. Since the world died. You knew you were going to die, too. And your ten-year-old sister, who didn’t have time to live. It has to happen, whether you’re ready or not. But you are ready. Death has taken over the world now, and who are you to fight it? You just hoped that you and Lottie wouldn’t have to suffer and…

With a dull thud, the arrow pierced the forehead of the walker that had grabbed Lottie and he finally fell to the ground dead. Lottie threw herself into your arms without thinking, wrapping her arms tightly around your waist and sobbing into your chest. You looked around in incomprehension until you saw a man with a crossbow. He put down the remaining three walkers with the remaining arrows. Clearly and without missing. Like he’d done it every day before the outbreak.

Man paused, looking at you and Lottie sobbing in your arms, and then without a word walked over to the corpses to pull his arrows from their skulls. Right now, however, you didn’t have the strength to say a few words. You didn’t have the strength to say a barely audible “thank you” for saving your life. The man looked at you, chewing his lower lip and without saying anything, lowered his head and walked away as if nothing had happened now. It would have been nice to stop him. But you were still standing still.

Now.

Daryl was sitting on a log outside his and Merle’s tent on the outskirts of the rest of the camp. He was cleaning squirrel blood off his arrows and hunting knife. Well, thanks to him, the camp wasn’t starving. Lottie and Sophia didn’t like eating something cute like squirrels, but there’s no choice. And while you weren’t thrilled about it either, better squirrels than the inedible berries you and Lottie had been poisoned with before you got to camp at the quarry. It was… unpleasant. You almost silently approached his “Dixon den,” as Shane called the tent of the brothers who preferred to stay away from the main group. But for an experienced hunter and tracker like Daryl, it wasn't hard to hear the branches crunching under your feet. Of course he noticed. Daryl turned toward you, where you froze for a moment between the bushes and snorted.

“What do you want, girl?” he asked, staring again at the dirty arrow in his hand..

“Hey,” you smiled shyly and moved a little closer, not noticing the vehement protest on his part. “Am I interrupting you?”

“If I tell you what you’re doing, will you leave?” Daryl didn’t look away from his work, still not looking at you.

“I don’t know…I guess?” you shrugged uncertainly. You didn’t want to annoy him, but you had promised something to your little sister. And yourself too.

“So what do you want? A chat? That’s not for me,” Daryl shook his head.

“I wanted to ask you for help to be honest,” you pursed your lips as you always did when you felt uncomfortable.

“Try it,?” Daryl finally lifted the piercing gaze of his gray-blue eyes to you and you felt even more uncomfortable.

“Take me with you on your next hunt,” you blurted out, deciding it wasn’t worth beating around the bush. Not with Daryl Dixon.

“No,” he answered immediately and went back to cleaning his weapon.

“Daryl, please,” you insisted. Not that you expected him to answer any differently. “I need to learn at least the basics of wilderness survival. You probably remember the state you found me and Lottie in in the woods…I can’t let that happen again.”

“Why? You’ve warmed up to a camp with people who can handle weapons. Just stay close to them,” Daryl snorted.

“I’m not stupid, Daryl, I realize this isn’t forever and sooner or later we’re all going to have to separate. When that happens, there’s no one to protect Lottie but me,” you sounded more determined than usual. Of course, it took a few days to pull myself together. “So I’m asking you to help me. Teach me how to track prey and how to tell poisonous plants from edible ones. Please.”

“Look, you’re sure of yourself, huh? Coming in here and making demands like I owe you,” Daryl was starting to get annoyed, it was obvious. He didn’t like the way you were being pushy, asking him for something like you had a right.

“I’m not making demands, I’m asking for help,” your confidence began to wane after his words. Daryl didn’t know you well. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have had the nerve to call you cocky. Or just at least a little bit of confidence.

“I’ve already helped you out on my own head…I won’t do it again, you’re not a goddamn charity case here,” Daryl chuckled.

“Okay, then what do you want in return?” you asked firmly.

The question wasn’t about your curiosity about wildlife, your life and your little sister’s life depended on you. Your only family. This is not a case where you can afford to back down and give up.

“As if you have anything to offer,” snorted Daryl dismissively.

"What would you want?" you asked, hugging yourself tighter around your shoulders in a protective gesture.

Daryl's right. What the hell could you offer him? In this current world, money has no value. Not that you had a lot of it, but it was the first thing you thought of out of habit. Then what? Daryl is an excellent hunter who has all the necessary survival skills and is good with a gun. That's why you asked him for help and not anyone else. Shane could teach you how to shoot, which would undoubtedly be very useful in the current circumstances, but it's not enough to survive in the woods without a group. Not without someone like Daryl, who is as well adapted to life in the wilderness as you could tell from a week of knowing him.

Back to the question, what could you offer him? What would Daryl Dixon want?

"I want you to talk less and get back on your own," Daryl squinted looking at you for a few seconds and then lowered his head again. The conversation wasn't going well.

"Why did you save me and my sister in the forest? Why did you bring me here? We might live a little longer being in a group, but when this is all over, we're both going to be eaten, so why did you have to build up to this moment?"

Daryl was silent. Like that day a week ago before he brought you to camp. Really, why did he do that? He felt sorry for Lottie. A dirty little girl, messed up to death. You didn't look like you really tried to save her during the walker attack and Daryl wondered why. How scared were you? Didn't believe in your own strength? Did you want to die? He didn't know. But he knew for sure he wasn't going to let a child be eaten alive by a rotting reanimated corpse. Not in this world. Would Daryl have helped you if you were alone in the woods? He wasn't sure. You seemed resigned to your situation and didn't try to escape, so why would he rescue you?

He already did anyway. And dragged you both to the camp. And then that same night he had a fight with Shane, who wasn't sure about the idea of leaving you here. And he got a good laugh from Merle, who thought he was being too kind to someone in the Dixon family. But you don't need to know that. You're lucky it was Daryl and not Merle who came across you in the woods. You'd be wandering around the woods now, rotting from the inside out, wanting nothing more than to eat anything alive. Just like your sister.

"Your sister needed a place and I helped you, that's the whole story," Daryl only nodded his shoulder.

"Why?" you persisted.

"Damn it, girl, what are you babbling about! I helped you, who cares why?" Daryl frowned and abruptly stood up from his seat in a flash of anger.

"I just..." you cringed at his loud tone and backed away slightly.

"Stop bugging me with this, okay? I saved you and your little girl, that's it! That's all you're gonna get from me, you understand? I don't want to teach you anything, I don't need you, save yourself!" Daryl waved his hand, yelling at you and you didn't even realize why you pissed him off so easily.

You looked at him frowning in incomprehension. Why the hell is he yelling at you for no good reason? And looking so angry, like you'd done something terrible to him. You didn't understand Daryl Dixon and his mood swings. That's why you tried to stay away from him, especially the first couple days. You were grateful to him for saving you, but he didn't seem like someone you'd easily connect with. And Daryl had just proven that to you again. You only came to him with the request because no one else could handle it but him. But apparently he's really not interested in this at all. You didn't want to and couldn't force him. You just hoped that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as rude and aloof as he seemed at first glance. After all, he wouldn't have saved you if he was the way he showed himself to others. You'd just have to find a way to approach him and then maybe something would work. But now you weren't so sure.

"Well?! Don't look at me like that, get out of here!" he shouted one last time, turning away from you.

You snorted disappointedly, and after staring at his back for a few seconds, you turned around and hurried back to camp. You were mad at Daryl, that was for sure. Just like Lottie was mad at Carl, but you had a better reason than a handful of nuts. And you might have wanted to yell back at him, but not that it made sense. You'd learned to control your negative emotions a long time ago, and you weren't about to let years of self-discipline go down the drain because of Daryl Dixon. That's on him. Maybe you'll try again later when you've both cooled down, but definitely not in the next few days.

Daryl was difficult, but you have to find an approach to him. Not for your own sake. Certainly not for him. For Lottie. For the chance to prolong her life as long as you could.

Then.

“Hey!” you followed the stranger after a few moments of daze.

You almost lost sight of him, but he wasn’t trying to be quiet, and you could still hear the sound of his footsteps on the leaves on the ground. So as soon as your body began to obey you again, you followed him, holding Lottie’s hand tightly in yours. The man didn’t stop no matter how many times you called out to him. How rude. But in the present world, one didn’t think much of it. And you didn’t know him, but he wasn’t exactly friendly before the end of the world. And yet, you stopped the man from grabbing his wrist when you caught up with him. He turned around and looked at you with a frown, immediately pulling his hand from your barely perceptible grip with force. You seemed to have hit something wrong.

“Thank you,” was the first thing you said when he finally paid attention to you.

“Forget it,” wheezed the man with the familiar Southern accent you never got in the ten years you’d lived in Georgia.

“What’s your name?” you persisted.

“Go where you’re going,” the man snorted and turned away again to walk away.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” you said before he could get a few steps away from you and Lottie, “I…I mean we have nowhere else to go.”

The man stopped for a moment without turning around, as if thinking about something.

“Do you live somewhere? Somewhere with people? You’re the first person I’ve seen in a week…I mean of living people,” you stared at his back without stopping to speak.

Hope flared in you. If there are still people alive, then you and Lottie have a chance.

But the man didn’t answer, only turned to glance at you. Your tangled hair, tied back in a low ponytail, your dirty knit sweatshirt over your once-white T-shirt, your mid-thigh jean shorts that were also dirty and torn on the side of your left leg, your broken knees with blood on them, your worn and dirty yellow sneakers. He looked at the little girl next to you. She had big eyes like yours. And while yours looked at him with weariness and a mute request you still hadn’t spoken aloud, hers were full of fear. Her long hair, braided into two pigtails, was also disheveled, and twigs and dry leaves were sticking out of it from the fact that she had been on the ground under the walker that had tried to eat her. Her denim overalls were stained with the rotting blood of the living dead, and the hood of the sweatshirt she wore over the rest of her clothes was now torn off. There was only one rubber boot on the girl’s feet, the other having come off in the process of escaping from the walkers. The man thought it must be very uncomfortable to run around in rubber boots. The girl held your hand and appeared behind your back, gingerly looking at her savior.

“Y/N, I’m scared…” said Lottie quietly, pressing her cheek against your hand.

Y/N. The man mistook you for this girl’s mom. A very young mom. But it seems that wasn’t the case. Although the two of you had enough outward similarities to think you were related to each other.

“Do you have a place to stay? Please…we’ve been walking through the woods for three days without food or water,” you asked quietly.

The man looked at you with a piercing stare and was still silent. But he didn’t stay silent for long.

“Please,” Lottie said even more quietly, looking out at him from behind you. And then he gave up.

How could he refuse to help a little hungry girl in one rubber boot.

“Follow me,” he said, looking into your eyes for a second, and then turned and walked on, expecting the two of you to follow him.

Of course you both did. Now the hope in your heart is much brighter.

[crazyk-imagine]

Life Away from Home

Pairing: Dalton Lamber x Best friend!reader

Characters: Dalton Lamber, Best Friend!reader, Chris Winslow, Josh Lambert, Renai Lambert

Warnings: Fluff, angst due to demons, add on to the movie, reader and Dalton being cute, I've literally only seen this movie once and it's consumed me too much and I had to write this, the day I watched it, this idea came to mind, the possessed Dalton scene is what got me hooked on writing this, Josh and Renai are trying to make it work maybe not in a romantic way or maybe they are

Word Count: 4,294

A/N: Holy shit, I was not expecting this to be over 4,000 words.

I'm getting ready for spooky season

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Jesus, Dalton. When did you get so much shit?" You ask, setting down another box beside the one his dad set down on his bed.

"When did you complain so much?"

You narrow your eyes to him before your lips stretch into a smile as he does the same. "Touche."

Josh glances between the two of you, seeing him and Renai when they first met.

"I'm gonna leave you two alone before our first week of hell starts."

Dalton tries to stop you and fails.

You're barely out of the room for five minutes when you get a phone call from him. "What happened?"

"The usual."

A heavy sigh slips past your lips, "Dally."

He shakes his head. “Can you just- can you come back up here?”

“I’m on my way, loser.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“But it got you to crack a smile.” He denies it with the widest smile on his face before hanging up.

“Is that you’re girlfriend?” He turns to face his soon to be ex-roommate, Chris. “No.”

She shrugs. “Maybe this is the year you do something about your crush.”

-

It was an okay start to this new part of your guy's life. Meeting Chris made things more fun, although Dalton would definitely disagree.

Ever since the school year started (two days ago) and Chris told you her schedule, you two hang out in her dorm for a bit while you wait for Dalton to finish up with his art class.

She likes you and definitely understands why he likes you so much.

Her little dance stops when knocking from the other side interrupts her and startles you.

Ever since you got here, things have been getting weird for Dalton which, as much as you don’t want to admit it, it scares you.

She opens the door, peeking through the crack to find the one person that makes your eyes shine. She smiles at you with the mouthpiece to her most prized possession (and the name is something you will never remember). "See? It's just your Dally man."

You narrow your eyes to her. "Shut up."

He glances between the two of you before taking a seat near you.

"Are you ready for my latest rendition of "don't go breaking my heart" with my trusty little sidekick?"

You roll your eyes and lean closer to him, "say no."

He shakes his head.

You smile and lean closer to him, bringing him some comfort after the night he's had. You know he won’t talk about it; you asked him after the first night but knowing he’s just going to keep it to himself until he can’t any longer, the least you can do is make him smile… and hold him.

-

Everything started spiraling worse after going to that stupid frat party.

You knew he didn’t want to go to it and that’s why you tried to get Chris to change her mind but there’s no stopping that girl when she’s on a mission.

“What if we just-”

She shakes her head, “no.”

You fall back onto Dalton’s bed, turning to face him as he works at his desk. “I tried. I’m sorry.” You don’t think he heard you, but you return your attention to Chris as babbles on about how the party is just what we need.

-

And it only spiraled into something worse and worse from there.

He hasn’t stopped working on that painting. Every time he returns to his room, there he is in that chair, paintbrush in hand.

“Dalton?” You call out to him.

His body is slumped, you don’t know how long it was that he stopped working on his art, but it couldn’t have been more than five minutes ago.

“Dally?” You push yourself off the bed and are about to place a hand on his shoulder, thinking if you gently shake him, it’ll wake him but a voice in the back of your head tells you not to. You pace back and forth behind him, “Okay, Dalton. One this is not funny. And two, I need you to wake up.”  

You lift your hand up, biting the skin on the sides of your thumbs (something you haven’t done since you were a kid).

It’s too late for you to call Chris, it’s been dark for hours, but you can’t sleep knowing Dalton can’t sleep because the guilt of knowing you can sleep and he can’t, well, it'll make you feel like an asshole. And if he can’t sleep, then you shouldn’t.

But he tells you to and not to worry about him, which makes it really hard because how can you not worry about him.

You open your eyes and are startled as the door to his dorm shuts. “Dalton?”

He pushes himself out of the chair, shaking you. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? What the hell happened to you? You freaked me out. You were asleep one second and then-”

“I was up in Chris’ dorm.”

You blink once. “Huh?”

“I was- I just- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I do. You’re on some sort of drug right now and you need to tell me where your stash is so I can either join you or flush them.”

“What?” He furrows his brows, “I’m not on- I don’t even know what’s going on. I just- all I know is that-“

A knock on the door causes you to leap into his arms.

You two take a step towards the door with his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.

“I just woke up because of this,” Chris lifts up her favorite annoying thing.

You start to tear up but don’t know why. “I- oh my god.” You wipe your cheeks as the two talk.

They glance over at you, wondering if you were paying attention. They’re both alarmed at the sight of you crying.

You wave them off. “I’m fine.”

That was just the beginning of something bad coming your way.

-

You and Chris text each other periodically throughout the next few days, mainly her checking on you and you asking her what she’d found out regarding Dalton’s “condition”.

From her end, he needs sleep to which you completely agree with, but you also need to take care of yourself.

She doesn’t want anything to happen to you, you’re good for him and an amazing friend which is why it was exceedingly scary with you lying in front of her, looking as though you were dead.

She still doesn’t even know what happened even though she knows it has something to do with the spiritual world Dalton’s got himself mixed up in.

Before returning to his body, he sees the demon that's been haunting him for a little less than half his life (even if he doesn’t remember it now) hovering over your body.

You don’t know what happened during that time but you the only colors that come to mind whenever you think of it are red and black (something you’ve never told Dalton).

You moved into his dorm basically permanent after that night, followed by almost hourly texts from a certain upstairs dorm neighbor.

-

It’s been getting harder and harder to get Dalton to sleep when you can’t even do it yourself.

He sits at his desk and continues working on the painting that seems to be haunting him, something that makes you wish you could you more helpful to him but are unable to.

With everything that’s going on your kind of happy about the few classes you chose to take this year because napping throughout the day isn’t the most ideal thing for a normal college student, but it’s the only way you can keep up with Dalton. “You tired yet?”

“You asked me five minutes ago,” he mumbles, not fully taking his eyes off the painting.

“Fine. New question, have you talked to your mom or dad yet?”

“Why would I talk to them?”

“Uh, I don’t know because you’re going through astral projection moments without any proper or well-known guidance. Oh, and also your friend almost died because of some black and red thing.”

He pauses, his hand stills before he hurriedly tosses the paint brush onto the desk. “You saw it?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” you sigh.

“You are.”

“Maybe you’re just annoying.”

“I’m annoyed with a purpose. What- I mean, did you-”

“No, I just,” you throw the hood of his hoodie over your head.

“I think… maybe it’s from when you were in your coma.”

“Did you remember something?” He leans in closer.

“I just,” you glance up at him. “I feel like you should talk to your mom.”

He takes a deep breath. “No and you’re not going to win so just stop and leave it alone.”

Worst thing you could have ever done, listen to him.

You didn’t want to; you know, know you should have called her and asked her what she knows about this, but he kept assuring you that he’s got this and would ask his brother for information and that could only do so much.

Chris texted you earlier, asking if you could help her with one of her classes because you both have the same teacher, but you have the morning class, and she has the afternoon.

You decided that if he didn’t want help, he wasn’t going to get it.

The- “whole tough love routine, really?”

You furrow your brows, feeling offended and self conscious. “What?”

“Don’t what me. When has that routine ever helped someone?” She shrugs, “no, seriously. Tell me.”

You mimic her and return back to helping her study with the midterm getting closer and closer (Chris’ words, not yours).

“She finally gets it,” you say, happy to know you could help her where you could.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

She nods, stuffing her notebook back into her bag. “Yeah, why wouldn’t he?”

You bit the skin on the sides of your thumb, “I have a bad feeling.”

She glances back at you. “How bad?”

“I’m slowly getting more nauseous the longer I sit here.”

“Are you sure? I mean, what if you just-”

“Chris.”

She sighs, “fine. I’ll go check on your boyfriend and when I come back, telling you he’s doing just fine.”

The door slams open as she searches for something, mumbling to herself. After a few minutes, she’s found what she was looking for and turns around. She stares at you, her arms full of various lights in different shapes and sizes. "Are you coming with me or not?"

You grimace. This is too much for either of you to handle on your own. "Chris,” you hold her arm in place, “I have a bad feeling about this."

She nods; she gets it, but she also knows neither of you can leave him alone. "So do I but we can't leave him alone."

You hesitate.

“You can’t leave him alone.”

You nod, gulping down the saliva that built up in your mouth. "Okay."

You two practically run to Dalton's room.

You stand in the doorway and know something's not right but follow Chris, not feeling comfortable leaving her alone in here. You two sit on his bed, you work on untangling the lights while she tries to get them on.

She plugs it in once, you’re not as nauseous but are feeling more fear.

Another light is plugged in, and you pull your feet up from the floor. A third one and it’s suddenly colder?

"I'm not afraid of the dark anymore."

You furrow your brows, pausing your movements. "What?" A chill runs down your spine. "Chris, are you done yet?" You gulp and hurry to help Chris, knowing the dark is a bad place to be in, especially now.

She runs around the room, putting the lights in place leaving you to plug them in, wanting to light up the room. Her feet padding across the floor worry you. "Almost." She shouts, "yes!" Her side is lit.

You barely glance over at him and know what's wrong, it makes you even more nauseous; you can almost feel the bile creeping up your throat.

It feels like it’s here, the pressure tightens on your throat.

"Dalton?" She calls out for him, watching his body move as he stands in the corner.

"Chris, don't get near him." You pull her back when his head turns towards you. "It's here." You begin blinking away the tears that blur your vision.

"No," she refuses to believe it. "Dalton? What's going on there? This isn't normal. It's really weird seeing you in the dark."

You want to cry. "Stop talking."

It flings her to the side.

"Oh god," you whimper.

It turns its attention onto you as his body lets out a low growl.

"Chris, run."

She says the same to you when she sees how close Dalton's body has gotten to you.

You turn back to him and focus on his hands wrapping a piece of rope around his hands. "Where did that come from?" Tonight’s the night you're going to die. You shake your head and run towards the door. You shake to doorknob as tears fall down your cheeks. "Let me out. Let me out."

He gains control, the rope falls from his hands as he calls out for you.

You turn around and see the real him before he loses control.

You and Chris catch him before he can fall.

“You hold him and anchor him while I work on the lights.”

You can’t object as she’s already run off.

She screams as a face appears in front of her, emerging out from the depths of the darkness under the bed.

You pull her back. “Get behind me.”

She doesn’t have enough time to argue and does as she’s told.

You're stuck between the two, holding Dalton and keeping him close to you as she huddles further into you, all while fighting the spirits crawling on top of him and you.

He opens his eyes and wakes from his internal battle, the light squeeze to your hand lets you know he's here. He's with you as he forces the spirits to disappear.

You help him up, knowing he's trying to move.

Dalton starts painting with as much paint as he can with his one paintbrush.

The canvas is black.

"Is it over?" She dares to ask.

You tear up, covering your mouth to hide the sobs that want to escape you.

He turns around, barely giving himself a second to take in everything that's happened as he pulls you closer to him.

“I need to call my mom,” he grabs the phone and immediately dials his mom.

“Is everyone okay?” Chris asks, knowing you can’t mutter a word right now and how close you are because you two pretty much call the Lambert's your family.

“Yeah, he’s- he’s okay. He’s back.”

“He wasn’t before?”

You lift your head off him. “He stayed behind?”

He nods. “But he’s back now and it’s gone.”

You gulp, staring into his eyes; silently thanking all and any god that they’re not yellow.

You didn’t realize you’re crying until he wipes your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and sniffle; he pulls you closer to hug you; needing to feel your comforting warmth… plus Chris. “Please tell me it’s over.”

“It’s done,” Dalton informs the two of you with a stern voice.

"You’re never going to do that again. I can't lose you."

He nuzzles his nose into your head, breathing in your scent.

“I think it’s time we go home for our early semester break.”

“I,” he hesitates, “I think that’s a good idea.”

-

After saying bye to Chris and promising to text when you two actually leave campus and when we make it to the Lambert household, you finally make it to his dad’s car.

Josh smiles at the sight of you two. “Hey.”

Dalton glances away, finding making eye contact with the man to be too much. “Hey.”

His dad turns to you, “hey.”

“Hi,” you give him a small smile. “Let’s put the stuff in the car and get this long ass drive over with?”

That earns a chuckle and breaks the silence between the two.

You’re about to walk towards the back of the car when he stops in front of you. “What?”

“I can put your stuff in the back.”

You huff, “Dalton. No, just let-”

“Me put it away, you get settled into the car. I’ll be there in a second.”

You roll your eyes, “fine. I’ll just get started on the second season of-”

“Don’t you dare.”

You open the car door with a small smile on your face.

-

Josh turns to his son, not yet opening the trunk so you can’t hear their conversation (he hopes). “So?”

“What?”

His dad smiles and uses his head to gesture in your general direction. “Have you asked her?”

The look on his son’s face tells him all that he needs to know (and embarrass him). “Are you two together? Going steady? Netflix and chilling as you young kids call it.” He lightly pats the side of his arm, “come on, you can tell me… so I can tell your mother.”

The young man avoids all eye contact and stares at the ground, the warmth in his cheeks is not something he wanted to experience now, before they even leave campus. “No, I- with everything that happened, I didn’t want it to seem like I’m just asking her out to do it. You know, I- I want it to mean something.”

The corner of Josh’s mouth twitches, reminding him of his young self. “I know exactly what you mean and that’s why I know if you do it, she won’t think of it that way.”

Dalton slowly lifts his head. “How do you know that?”

“She’s been by your side ever since the first time. No, even longer than that but especially during these times and if you don’t believe me then, you don’t know why you invited her to come with you.”

“What?”

“Put the bags in the trunk,” Josh tells him as he opens it. He sees the way his son stares at you, he did the same thing with his ex-wife. He just wishes he was as strong as the two of you and knows if he was, then maybe he and Renai would still be together.

He takes a deep breath. ‘This is what Dr. Rofuss was talking about.’ “You can sit in the back if you want, I won’t be offended.”

“She’ll make me sit there if I don’t on my own.”

His dad chuckles as he closes the trunk. “Alright then, make your choice, stud.”

“Stud?” He mutters as he walks around the car.

You shake your head and point to the front seat.

Josh silently laughs to himself when he watches the two of you two. “Show tunes?”

You give the older man a gentle smile. “Sure.”

-

Renai walks out and hugs her baby boy- he groans, “mom.”

“You’ll always be my baby no matter what age you are.”

You cover your mouth to hide your amusement.

Josh leans down and whispers, “you’re next.”

You quickly recover and shake your head. “No.”

He starts taking your guys bags into the house.

She stares at him for a few seconds before letting him go, turning to face you. She pulls you in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She doesn’t answer you.

-

You walk into the house, waiting to find one or both of his siblings but find neither. “Is it just us plus your parents right now?”

He shrugs, “I guess.”

“Which room am I staying in?”

He turns around and stares at you with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“We’re at your parents' house and I don’t think they’d approve of us, a young man and a young woman sleeping in the same room.”

“We did it at school, what’s different now?”

“We’re under the same roof.”

He grabs the bags at the end of the stairs and starts walking up. “It’s fine.”

You follow him. “I don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence on you or something.”

“She won’t, stop worrying about it.”

“Dal-”

He drops the bags and pulls you closer, cupping your cheeks. “Stop it, she would never think that. If anything,” the corner of his lips twitch. “She’d think it was me.”

You stare into his eyes, no thoughts coming to mind.

He’s waiting for you to respond but you don’t, and he doesn’t know what to do.

The creaking of the bottom stairs startles you and you pull away. “I’m going to the kitchen.”

His dad raises a brow when he finds his oldest staring at the floor with rosy, red cheeks.

-

Dinner was a little awkward at first, but you managed to make it through without raising too much suspicion from Josh and Renai (or at least, you hope that’s the case).

You run upstairs after helping his mom with the dishes (Dalton, sat at the table drawing).

-

She nudges your side, “you can go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’m sure you’ll want to get as much sleep as you can.”

You shrug, “it’s okay. I can st-”

“Nope, upstairs you go.”

“But-”

“Go,” she says, offering a kind smile.

You grab the dish towel and dry off your hands before glancing over at him, suddenly remembering the way he was staring at you, and exit.

-

You walk back out of the bathroom to grab your toothbrush so you can relax in bed, only to find someone else also brushing his teeth. “Uh- sorry- I’ll just-”

He shakes his head and spits. “It’s fine. I’m almost done.”

You know how when you’re trying to avoid making eye contact with someone and it doesn’t work?

He finishes and puts his toothbrush in its holder before walking away, only to lean against the doorway. “What’s going on with you?”

You shake your head.

“Ever since earlier-”

You finish in time to cover his mouth. “Shut up. I don’t want your parents finding out.”

He lowers your hand. “Why? It’s not like we had sex or anything.”

You avoid making eye contact, the heat in your cheeks does nothing to help you as you walk into his room. “I think I should sleep in the guest room.”

“Wait, what? Why?” He stands in front of you, stopping you from walking out. “Wh- did it,” he takes a deep breath. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

You clench your jaw, unsure of how to tell him the true reason. “I-”

“If it did, I’m sorry.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” He studies your fidgeting. “Did you,” the corner of his lips curved upwards. “Did you like it?”

“No.”

“You answered that too quickly. You did.” He chuckles, taking a step forward. “You can tell me to stop.”

You open your mouth to respond when he cups your cheeks and pulls you closer.

“I’ve missed you.”

You furrow your brows. “I didn’t leave?”

“Ever since the whole thing happened, I just- I’m happy you’re here with me.”

You glance from one eye to the other and slide your hands up to his neck, pulling him closer, into a crushingly comforting hug.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders and waist, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

You play with his hair as you two stand a few feet from the open doorway.

He removes his arms from you, and you think he’s done and start to loosen your grip on him until you hold onto him for dear life. “What are you doing?!” You ask, tightening your legs around his waist.

He doesn’t reply as he sets you down on his bed.

You get the hint and lay down, opening your arms (a spot reserved for him). You play with his hair some more. “Are you ever going to get a haircut?”

“Why?” He angles his head so he can look at you.

“Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t say that. I do, I was just wondering.” His eyes twinkle and he can’t find it in him to look away. “Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?”

“Can… I kiss you?”

You stare at him with a confused expression as your brain works on processing what he’s asked. “You want to kiss me… like as a friend?”

“What friend kisses another friend?”

“You know how some families or- or like celebrities kiss each other on the lips and it's not romantic, that’s- that’s what I’m thinking of.”

He leans on one elbow, hovering over you as his hand pushes the few stands of your hair behind your ear. “I definitely don’t mean it in a friendly way.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Chris thought we were together.”

“When did she say that?”

“Our first day.”

“Oh.”

“I hated that I had to say no.”

You take a leap and hope that he wasn’t playing a mean, mean joke on you.

-

Renai and Josh have been up since earlier this morning, seeing as it almost- “Josh, it’s almost ten o’clock. I think we should go at least check on them.” She raises her shoulder, keeping her phone tucked in the crook of her neck as she prepares her cup of coffee.

“They’re enjoying their first break; they’re not going to be awake right now.”

“Yeah well… they should be otherwise they’re not going to get breakfast.”

“Wow.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

-

The door slowly creaks open as she peeks her head in only to find the two of you still asleep, cuddling in a “less than friendly” way.

She shakes her head, knowing her ex-husband's right.

[weirdwildwonderland]

I know ppl downplay certain siblings trauma a lot but let me just reframe everyone’s for you based on the seasons

1) imagine the person you love the most sending you 185828282 miles away for 4 years to live on the moon. Completely alone. When you get back you find out that all the samples you put so much work into didn’t even get read or taken out. The person who sent you there tells you later that he put you there to guard the most precious thing in the universe but you can't help but think that he sent you up there because you died and came back looking like a monster. He left you on the operating table for two months and when he saw you again he couldn't even look at you.

Imagine being a little kid and being told you’re not special. And then living with 6 other people who are constantly praised because they’re more special than everyone else. Imagine them 30 years later still talking about you behind your back and blaming you for everything that went wrong.

Imagine being 12 and being so restless to see the world and to see what you can do that you go somewhere no one’s ever been. And it’s hell. And no one comes to save you. You think about how you saw your family dead in those first days. And it haunts you for those next 45 years.

2) imagine being transported back in time. You have powers that can kill people. And since you’re from the future you have history books on your side. You have the power to stop one of the most famous assassinations in history and prove to your dad (who’s alive now) that you’re GOOD. That you’re not the impulsive emotional crazy mess he always said you were. You just want him to love you, because whether you want to admit it or not, you want his love and validation more than anything else in the world. You don’t prevent the assassination.

Imagine having to witness all the stupid things your brother does. You just want to give up sometimes but you literally can’t. So you put up with his attitude and stupid justifications and you never get to hug those 5 other people that you miss so much. Your brother says that ghosts can’t time travel. You don't get to say goodbye to him. Even though you hated him sometimes he had a good heart and you miss that good heart all the time.

3) imagine going through brutal racism and dehumanization every single day. Not knowing if your husband is alive or in jail or not. Constantly on alert. Your husband is the only thing keeping you from losing it. And the thought that your daughter will be there when you get back. You didn’t get to see her before the first apocalypse. You failed her as a mother and she died that night not even hearing your voice. Your brother was on the phone for you. You leave your husband for her. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Except she isn’t there.

4) (speculation) you used to be immortal. You got really sick one time from walking barefoot in a field and from something you smoked. You got shot by a spear gun. You came back. You can drink however much you want. You can get run over by a bus and you heal in half an hour. Now that you don’t have your powers it’s different. Everything is terrifying on a new level. Salmonella from the canteloupe and liver poisoning from the alcohol and flu from your brother's new kid. The clorox wipes smell like a security blanke and you can't get close to anyone anymore. Not even your sister. Not even your niece. And it makes your brother sad. You don’t smoke anymore and you’re so, so quiet. No one notices. You’re finally quiet.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Ok also craving pregcup #2!!

Devastating Winter, Chronic Pain & A Baby

Summary: Set after THW. Pregnancy is difficult enough by itself, let alone when one happens to suffer from chronic pain at night during the colder months.

Warnings: Pregnancy

Rating: Teen and Up

Dead Dove: No

Words: 675

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Author’s Notes: Stiiiiiilll searching for the motivation to post things. This fic took literally days to post. :')

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

Well into the night, Hiccup still lies awake in bed. He’s on his back underneath layers of blankets and furs and he spends these hours staring up at the ceiling. There’s very little else he can do, very little else he has the energy to do. Their bedroom is freezing despite the fire they kept burning in the firepit to keep their house warm. He’s sweating plenty underneath the many layers and yet he’s apparently not warm enough. Why else would old injuries be acting up?

His stump and the burns he suffered all from a battle many years ago haunt him every single winter and with devastating winter around the corner, his nights are only going to get worse. Then there is the fact that this season is a little more different than most as this year he’s pregnant with his and his wife’s first.

He’s a well over halfway, though the layers on him makes him seem even bigger than he actually is. Astrid is asleep, Toothless and the Light Fury are asleep. He lets his hand glide over his bump on top of the furs, even the baby is asleep. They’ve started moving and then kicking, but he has learned by now that the lack of movement doesn’t mean that something is wrong. It simply means that they’re asleep.

It’ll still be winter when they come, his stump and burn scars will still be plaguing him when the day comes that he’ll have to push a new human being into the world and it’s not for the first time that he realizes just how reckless this pregnancy is.

He doesn’t blame Astrid for his situation, his sleepless nights. He was just as thoughtless when he let her between his legs and eagerly accepted everything she had to offer him. They’re married, they want to love each other completely. Besides, he’s the one with the broken body, he should’ve thought of the implications. Those are certainly the thoughts going through his head. Nowadays, he can’t get around without the use of a cane, a tool usually reserved for his worser days.

With the amount of scarring on his lower body, he even needed Gothi to take a look at him to make sure whether he could even give birth to begin with. Right now, however, his biggest concerns are his sleepless nights.

Hiccup rolls onto his right side with some difficulty and tries to find a position that’s comfortable. Curled up or one leg out, arms underneath his pillow to thicken it up or not. He tries on his left side when the other one doesn’t work out and does his best to keep his grunts of pain to himself. He simply can’t find comfort and the twinges in his scarred muscles and joints don’t help matters much.

It’s maddening, enough to drive him up the walls. It’s frustrating.

Despite his best efforts, Astrid turns around to face him. In the darkness, their eyes meet.

“Hey,” she starts quietly. “Can’t sleep?”

Hiccup shakes his head. At least he can still move something without pain. Until morning comes and a migraine will have inevitably taken up residence inside his brain.

“I’m so tired,” he admits and he wishes that it was enough. That being tired and closing his eyes was all that it took for him to fall asleep, but it isn’t.

Astrid reaches over and cups his cheek. “Just close your eyes, try to get as much rest as you can even if you can’t fall asleep. And when morning comes, I’ll be taking over as chief. You curl up to Toothless, okay?”

Hiccup is tired enough and in enough pain that he agrees. Not that Berk expects him out much in his condition. He nods and Astrid scoots closer. She wraps her arms around him to hold him to her and he wraps one around her. Her chin touches his crown and his forehead her chest, he closes his eyes. She goes back to sleep and he does his best to.

[japyr]

Cooking Hc.

castlevania headcanons, starring: Trevor Belmont, Sypha Belnades, Adrian “Alucard” Tepes.

⠁trevor:

it’s as bad as his odor, i mean come on. He’s obviously been living off bread and dried out jerky, so no telling if he knows how well dried out his jerky is..nor does he know what seasoning is.

He wouldn’t even want to cook in the first place, he’ll leave it up to whoever else in the house or the last option, sypha? or alucard? whomever it may concern, he’s not cooking.

let’s say he was coerced into doing the cooking! everyone is sitting in his face at the dinner table quiet, some talking complimenting his “culinary skills”. But you have alucard here being as blunt as ever when he tastes the unseasoned meat. Well at least it’s not dry?

Trevor already knew his cooking was bad before alucards input. But oh well, that just shows he can’t cook and literally didn’t even try.

⠁sypha:

even tho it’s not as bad as trevor, she still try’s and sometimes succeeds! usually goes to alucard to see how long to cook it or what seasonings to use.

she likes to cook because she’s learning new recipes, she doesn’t mine constructive criticism but not from trevor cause she thinks he is the last to be calling her food nasty.

but i would say she enjoys baking, like her cultural pastries. She was never really huge on cooking complex meals or cooking in general but she didn’t mind and never complained helping find herbs and vegetables for dinner or lunch.

she wouldn’t bake like cakes or stuff like that, maybe bread and cookies or small deserts but that’s all.

In my opinion, i see sypha as a breakfast type of person and trevor as a dinner type person while alucard is more of a lunch type of person. As sypha and trevor travel a lot, they really don’t have much time to cook whole meals just something quick for the road.

she’ll help cook tho!

⠁alucard:

can cook very well! obviously.

picked it up from both his mom and dad, mostly his dad tho. Since his mom was out being a nurse here and there., dracula taught him how to cook basic meals and eventually fancy meals.

he doesn’t go all out on cooking unless it’s for a special event (parties, birthday party, dates) stuff like that. Actually doesn’t mind cooking at all, he can make just as much dishes as he likes.

Gives constructive criticism back on both sypha and trevor. Especially trevor! he tries not to be so harsh on sypha about her cooking cause he knows that she’s actually trying and knows what she’s doing a little bit, but for trevor? he can tell that this man doesn’t even care how black his porkchop is on one side. That’s why trevor is constantly henpecking him about paying attention to the pan before he burns down the kitchen and kills every one in it.

would fight a frenchman about which bread is better.

[justamessedupdisneyprincess]

I need help, my life is now a living hell. (TW suicide attempt mention)

I know this is gonna annoy a lot of you for bitching and whining again but as of late my life has been really hard. I had to sell my soul and my life to a demon against my will. There is a toxic parasite I want to cut ties with but can’t. I am talking about a toxic family member who has no respect for boundaries and loves to judge and be rude to everyone around her.

I just really need some help rn guys because at this rate it really feels like I can either endure and sacrifice my sanity for as long as she lives or I could only ever end it via suicide. I have tried to do it twice while she was down and my mother has to hide away medication so I don’t overdose and sharp things such as knives and scissors when her new favourite person ever, her karen on steroids sister is here.

To paint a picture there is a story about when I was a baby with my cousin and toxic aunt. My toxic aunt would use grandma ( her mother) as a slave whenever she came to visit her grandson. “Now that you’re here I want you to do EVERYTHING for him while I go and bitch and whine about coffee and ask to see managers (I’m not joking. She literally does that. Saw it multiple times when she stays with us.). Whilst my Mom would offer to do fun activities with her and us, like go to the beach, etc. Because of this she enjoyed our company more than my toxic aunt who threw a tantrum over it. “You love my sister’s daughters more than my son!”. She got so pissed that she moved out of our place during a vacation. Mother offered to have my cousin and grandma to play in the pool with me and my sister whilst she helped my toxic aunt pack. She EXPLODED over that! Why? Idk. She then stormed into the house screaming and it woke baby me up and I was sobbing. Dad got mad and told her to get out and we had nothing to do with her until grandma died.

She hasn’t changed at all. Very toxic, always complaining and saying horrible things behind our backs. I had multiple extreme meltdowns when she came. She stayed for four whole months last year. One summer, one spring, one for every season. She has this rule too where only she is allowed to talk, all she does to complain and she gets weirdly excited when someone else is struggling…she loves to happily talk about others misfortunes and then she finds no joy in going to the beach and going out for lunch. Instead she complains constantly and it ruins the whole day. Mother told me she says the most horrible things about me behind my back too…which gets her upset but she puts up with it because she is going through a divorce. We put up with her rude behaviour out of pity. I understand how hard getting divorced is but it shouldn’t excuse…whatever the fuck she is doing to us. Mother and I got into extreme arguments because of her as well and we rarely fight. My toxic aunt turns my parents against me. I’m freaking out because she is going to come down again.

Last time she claimed to be more respectful of our boundaries. “We don’t have to do something every day, I’m ok to hang out by myself every now and then.” Then she guilt trips us by saying “I don’t know why I bother coming down here if I’m going to be alone.” Over me wanting to spend ONE fucking weekend alone with my mom out of an ENTIRE month of her hovering around us and never shutting up. She also loves to interrupt. I would be in the middle of saying something and she cuts in as if I’m worth nothing! Then I can’t even say anything because she never shuts up ever! Then when I am blessed with a moment of talking (usually because mother says Izzy has something to say) I get nervous about saying something she will judge me for!

She belittles every trigger of mine too. Once I used to like this cafe and she has this huge obsession with their muffins. I don’t go there anymore though because some mean teenage girls work there now and they have been openly rude to me two times when I visited. So rude I ended up crying once. I didn’t want to go back (keep in mind I have been bullied a lot as well, I have a huge fear of mean girls) My aunt gave me this huge lecture about it and tried to force me to go in just so she can get her muffins. I felt completely shattered as she gave me a hard time over it. In the end mother figured out her angle and just dropped her off there whilst I waited in the car…for her to do that though about my own experiences and my triggers and not wanting to return to a cafe with rude service…it was just so insensitive.

She used to say rude things to me because of me displaying typical autistic traits like my weird eating habits and my special obsessions. Mother made her stop saying things to my face but she told me she just says judgemental things behind my back now and she gives me this god awful judgemental stare when we go out to eat…She also shows no respect for mental illnesses such as anxiety, saying it’s not real. She also once made fun of someone who committed suicide…which shows how she isn’t really a good person. She picks at Mom and gives her a hard time and openly judges her and says rude things to her and mother always bottles it and takes it out on me in the end because the one who HAD been rude to her is going through a divorce.

I never want to have to endure her abusive behaviour again but I’m completely powerless. I feel so hopeless. Idk what to do..

[im-out-of-it]

season 2, episode 3 “parabatai lost” aka Alec almost dies saving jaces life for the millionth time

1. MY POOR ALEC

2. and Magnus is apologizing like mags this isn’t your fault but we can talk about that later

3. look, I like the idea of parabatai and not CC’s version, the Greek version of it. I love that. but what I don’t like is how CC always has one of the people fighting for the other person, putting their life and happiness on the line for them while the other doesn’t seem to give a shit. and it’s not just Alec and jace she does this with. she did it with Jem and Will, with Matthew and James which isn’t as extreme, and I’m not even going to talk about Emma and Julian. but most of these pairs- one person went above and beyond while the other didn’t matter

4. let me go into this a little more. how often do we see jace saving Alec? ONCE. how often do we see matthews concerns mattering? (MATTHEW DESERVED BETTER) Matthew ended up apologizing for even catching feelings for Cordelia or whatever that was. Jems whole role is to be there for Will, and then when Jem needs something, Will makes a whole joke basically over jems condition and is acting like Jem marrying Tessa is one last wish. it’s a pattern CC has made and I was hoping the show wouldn’t follow that. I mean, they obviously handled it better than the books where it’s nonexistent but jace is still jace, he’s still a dick who doesn’t care about Alec that much. it’s always going to be clary clary clary to him

5. it makes me sad that Magnus is apologizing and that he genuinely feels bad for not fixing Alec right away. he’s everything and we must protect Magnus at every cost!

6. yeah yeah yeah parabatai are special

7. what Magnus means to say is fuck you jace stop making my man miserable

8. and this is back when Alec thinks he needs jace. CAN WE PETITION FOR ALEC TO DO SOME TEST SO HE CAN SEE JACE ISNT WORTH IT PLEASE (reposting gif BECAUSE ALEC DESERVES BETTER) (GIVE MY MAN A FUCKING BREAK PLEASE AND MAGNUS TOO) (HES ONLY GETTING PAID IN ALEC)

9. shit where was I?????? oh that’s right, this bloody mess

10. I always love how Magnus practically says parabatai in disgust because (this is just my take) but I think Magnus can’t stand jace and the meaning of some parabatai- like how some will just use their parabatai over and over again. Magnus is intelligent and he sees how jace treats Alec, I mean literally anyone can notice that. anyone can see how miserable Alec was just a few days ago- probably a week. time runs differently here. in season three, Alec (spoilers for new watchers) asked Magnus to move in and Magnus states how it’s only been A FEW MONTHS

11. Izzy: how can I help my big brother??????

12. I found him and no jace, that isn’t clary 🙄

13. I hate how sad and hurt Magnus is in this episode: (give Harry all the fucking awards)

14. poor gretel, she could be rude but she didn’t deserve to die

15. I also found this:

16. I never find the fucking gifs when i need them

17. let’s take a break and venture into season one for a bit. I MISS SEASON ONE MAGNUS ALREADY

let us stop at 18 and I’ll be back later today to do the second part ⚔️🥹

[jxsterr]

bro your account is literally perfect. one of the best zelink ones i’ve ever seen and i think your interpretation of them is perfect!! what’s your opinion on t4t zelink?

YOURE SO SWEET WHAT THE HELL 😭😭😭😭 thank you omg that’s the sweetest ask ive ever gotten

as for opinions?? my opinion is yes. why wouldn’t they. it’s the most delicious hc out there and it does wonders at weeding out the weird fans

i haven’t honestly thought about it much because i enjoy it in passing but i’m definitely for ftm link with his funky new zonai post transition scars bc that’s SICK and he deserves at least one scar that isn’t the worst thing ever. zelda?? honest to god with all of the trauma she’s been through and all of the disconnect within herself i’d say like a nonbinary she/her if ygm?? an occasional she/they if she feels like it?? like the pronouns are just the equivalent of cosplaying a girl bc zelda’s been jumbled up so violently from everything that’s happened to her—from everything pre calamity with her father and her powers, her lack of self identity because she wasn’t allowed to present herself how she pleased when everything rested on her shoulders, trying to find herself Post calamity and figure out what she’s meant to do or even Be now that her one true purpose had been completed, and then the whole thing of being turned into a DRAGON and back—you cannot tell me she isn’t like scrambled egg on the inside.

link feels like the kinda guy to be like “idk i had tits and now i don’t” shrug whereas zelda has this 5 paged essay on everything that lead up to her identity LMFAO

because she’s so interesting to me right. i feel like she’d just kinda leave herself alone bc she’s been through enough without anything else on top, but i feel if she was to get anything done it’d just be top surgery so she could feel more In Control of her appearance?? and that’d be it?? bc dresses with boobs would have her a little :/ because they’re Okay she supposes but the dress Could look nicer without them, so link would sit there and help her bandage them down to see how she’d feel about it (also because he has an ungodly supply of bandages) and then watching something Click inside of her and who better to do such a task than purah???

(link stresses about it for the next 3-5 business days)

cuz i’m still big on zelda wearing a lot more neutral clothing purely bc we saw that her preferred way of dressing was her travel clothes right, and she’s always seemed more of a trousers gal than anything, so i can’t get into the idea of her purely wearing dresses post calam and totk like some people have bc every dress she’s worn. right. has had an air of Ambiguity around it. i think especially her prayer dress and zonai dress but i think that’s because of the total absence of straps or sleeves to them, so i feel like she’d wear dresses like that just for comfort but for any others?? boobs gotta go im sorry it’s just how it is

i’m also a huge fan of link being the more like. Seasoned of the two about transitioning and whatnot because obviously he would’ve had a lot more room to explore this sort of thing (esp with how little she could do w rhoam lord have mercy). so every question she’d have she’d go running to him for once instead of the books and Then him

“pardon me if i’m being intrusive, but was the surgery.. painful?”

“nah. not too bad. purah numbed me”

“you let.. purah..????”

she’d be stood in front of a mirror in their house and squinting at her own reflection, asking, “something feels wrong. i can’t tell what it is, but something feels misplaced on me.” and link peers over to have a look and he’s absolutely mystified because she’s literally gorgeous there isn’t a damn thing wrong with her—and then she starts focusing on her chest, looking at it from the side, squishing it down with scrutinising eyes to see if they’d look better flat and ah. it makes sense now. so, as i said earlier, he helps her bind, makes sure it isn’t too tight and always keeps an eye on how long she’s been wearing it (she is horribly forgetful after all), lets her comb through his ridiculously extensive wardrobe to see what pieces fit where and how to figure out how she wants her clothes to fit, then taking her down to sayge to retailor some old clothes he doesn’t mind her having once they figure it out, helping her figure out the terms and pronouns she’s comfortable with, just the most useful and best supporter you could ever ask for in the beginning of your transition.

I REALISE IVE RAMBLED OOPS but hey maybe when i get through the ridiculous backlog of fics i have i’ll do a little oneshot about this cuz it’s CUTE and so full of zelink potential

tldr. zelda’s this fuckin. she/they ass nb with a complex relationship with gender and her presentation and then link is just. a Guy. in the least straight way possible. he’s simple

i appreciate u sm for making me think about this more……: my little blorbos…