#what's the post that's like “i miss when it was 2004 and you looked like a yaoi character”

[k1d1c4rus]

hihihi just found out ur on tumblr and wanted to say that ur frerard is soooo amazing!!!! back in the cage was like life altering and sexy and so delicious it melted my brain. but your werewolf time of the month fic is my fav of all <333333 its so good the tenderness the bickering and just ahhhhh like little bits like the mood swings and frank feeling good that gerard was drinking his blood and calling him puppy!!!!!!! just everything!!! usually werewolf fics are just porn but this was so insanely good without even being porny i loved it smmmmm (though that might just be because my thing for pet play was satisfied by back in the cage!!!) thank you thank you thank youuuu so much for writing it will stay tuned for more ❤️

omg heyyyyy let's go wolfvamp frerard nation !!!!!! up in your arms is one of my FAVE fics I've written maybe ever I have a million unfinished bits about them (some porny too.... i might post them as snippets on here ?? if ppl would be interested?)

this is such a sweet message!! also back in the cage... an all timer... its such a shame frank has been such a Boomer Guy lately lol its put me off fr </3

[celestialspritz]

Why Sims 2 has been so broken the last ten years

This is down to my own research, and I'm not saying it is the one and only reason why the game is so broken these days, but I have some points worth mentioning.

So, you're bored one day. You remember this game you had so much fun playing a few years ago, or maybe as a child. It's The Sims 2!

The game has a few issues than from when you last remembered playing, so you search on google for some fixes for the tiny resolution, and among the countless posts you may find, you may find this:

Or this:

(to the creators and players mentioned here this isn't me making a dig at you, i'm just pointing out some cc that could affect the game from working properly. your stuff is all beautiful :D)

Lesya's game is gorgeous!!! Oh, how can I get it to look like that?

So you, with a clean, vanilla (ugly) game you decide to download a few mods she listed, such as:

Skylines by GCKP (you can get optimised ones by me here)

Skies by Lowedeus (you can get optimised ones by me here)

Trees by Criquette (you can get optimised ones here)

No More Blurriness by Voeille (you can get optimised snow only here)

Cool! And then you notice some cheats than can give the game that open-world, interactive feel. Even better!

And you shove them into your folder and you boot up the game. Everything's going great!

Until...

You search hundreds of posts looking for the fix. Some recommend 3rd-party tools, but they seem to make the problem worse. You reinstall, finding you only wasted your time. Something has to be causing this, but you'd never guess it'd be the mods everybody swore by.

Well, in fact, it is. Partly.

I've struggled with pink flashing since 2019, when I reinstalled Sims 2 after I got a decent computer for once. I did everything above, searched for fixes, found Lesya's blog which was my primary inspiration. It was through Lesya's guide that I was able to make my game look pretty!

These mods, which are a staple in the modding community, are beautiful indeed... but what if I told you that the reason they're so beautiful, is because they're high-quality. With textures soaring up to 4k, when, hang on--

In 2004, 4k resolution was... probably unheard of. With the leading monitor size being 1024x768, what would be the point of using such huge textures on an engine that was designed for monitors of at least this size? Would you be able to see the detail of 4k on a monitor of that size? Definitely not.

The max visiting sims, okay, a little hit or miss. If your sims are all wearing high poly alpha CC, then it's a problem. If not, good luck.

Then comes the cheats I mentioned. The lot skirt cheat expands the view distance a significant amount. With the mergenhoodflora cheat, that displays more trees. Combining the two, what do you get?

A massive view distance, blinded by trees.

With skies and skylines with large textures up to 4k, and trees with textures up to 2k, The Sims 2 will collapse. It's like forcing an old man with health conditions to do 20 situps, again and again.

It'll overexert him, by the very least. And you're overexerting the game by cramming custom content that is not optimised for the engine TS2 was built on.

So please, next time you encounter the pink soup, please check your CC folders, and research changes and cheats before you put them into your game. You will enjoy the game much more if you do this, and won't encounter this problem so often.

Don't use Graphics Rules Maker

Instead, opt for a maxis original Graphics Rules uploaded here by Veronavillequiltingbee. It's essentially a rewrite of an old tutorial I made a long time ago.

Once you download the file from VVQB, open DXDIAG by pressing WinKey+R and typing 'dxdiag'.

This value I've underlined is what you need to put after seti textureMemory. Open the sgr file and do CTRL-F and input seti textureMemory.

Add the value from DXDIAG and then save it.

You can use GRM for adding your GPU to the game, but I do not recommend it for anything but that.

Optimising the game... inside the game

*shoves GRM off the table*

We're going to go into TS2 in-game settings for this one.

These settings are optimal if you play CC-heavy households. It will ease the load on your game to make space for the heavy CC you have in your current household. You can tweak these when you want to take photos outside, but for playing I recommend them all to be off - especially at community lots as there are lots of sims there.

I never see anybody talking about Object Hiding.

Object Hiding hides objects from floors that aren't in view. If you're playing downstairs, objects upstairs won't be rendered, thus minimising the load on your game.

I have reflections and smooth edges off because I use ReShade.

Snow on Ground is optional. Sometimes snow can cause pink flashing, I believe it's due to texture replacements that are huge in size too, Voeille's is 2k. I've linked a resized one above.

This post will be updated with later findings. I hope you all found it informative :]

[ms-demeanor]

So I've been seeing some discourse around the No Fly List leak that looks a bit like "hey everybody, we can't make jokes about this, the list is racist and there are children on the list" or "if you're talking about identity categories instead of the list you're missing the point" and I think that we CAN make jokes about a trans bi lesbian catgirl owning the US government while also appreciating the gravity of the No Fly List but what I think is troubling to me is the way that these discourse posts are treating the blatant racism and inherently fascist nature of the No Fly List as news.

It is news that Maia Arson Crimew was able to download a copy of the No Fly List from an unsecured public server.

It is not news that there are 1.5 million people on that list, many of whom do not belong on it for any number of reasons, and it is not news that there are children on that list, and it is not news that the list is a tool used to deprive people of their civil liberties. That's why the list exists.

I'm aware that I'm getting older. I'm aware that there are entire adults of legal drinking age who were born after 9/11. I'm aware that it's not super common to follow up on foreign policy or national security debacles from when you were in kindergarten, but there are people who have been mad about this shit for twenty years and if you're just now hearing about how bad the list is for the first time, hell, maybe that's on us and we haven't been yelling enough (though when I'm yelling about how the TSA is security theater meant to make us accept encroachments on our rights, this is at least a part of what I'm yelling about).

The No Fly List is a list of individuals maintained by the TSA who are deemed a threat to security for some reason or another.

The TSA maintains the list, though they are given information for the list from the FBI, Terrorism Screening Center, and other entities. If you'd like to click this document, you can find 250 pages of FOIA'd documents about the No Fly List pre 2006. Much of this document is members of the FBI trying to justify why they need a copy of the list and lamenting that airlines have a copy of the list and they don't. This is very funny.

There have been issues with mis-identifications and false positives for the list for as long as the list has existed. You can click here to read through an infuriating 200 pages about a Pfizer employee who was stopped at least a dozen times at airports and who retained a law firm to hound the TSA/CBP/ICE clusterfuck of interagency buck-passing for nine months to try to get the problem resolved. One of the three documents at this link includes a complaint from the president of the Terrorist Screening Center lamenting the way that the TSA would refer obvious non-matches to be detained, including infants and the elderly.

At this point, the FBI/TSA/TSC/ICE/CBP claimed list was still relatively small, in the low thousands at most.

However a 2009 cost-benefit report by the Defense Technical Information Center found that in 2004-2005 30,000 people contacted the TSA to have their names removed from the list; 30k false positives suggests a list somewhat longer than a thousand names.

As long as the No Fly List has existed, criteria for being placed on the list has been subjective and selectively enforced.

As the Crimew leak shows, there isn't a tremendous amount of biographical data, but there are hundreds of thousands of names and it is enforced at the discretion of the TSA in each individual airport in the US, which is how you end up with duplicates and toddlers and 100-year-old men on what is functionally a filter to keep Muslim people out of the US.

The list has expanded every year that it has existed, and has been defended by republicans and democrats alike since it became one of the tools in our arsenal to fight "the war on terror"

And for just about that long, people have been talking about how it is unconstitutional, denies civil liberties, and also just doesn't really work.

It has never been transparent, it has always been a tool of surveillance, exclusion, and control:

And people have been documenting, protesting, and suing over the islamophobic nature of the list - and the security state's weaponization of the list as a threat - for two decades at this point because in the earliest days of the No Fly List it was OPENLY ACKNOWLEDGED that it was based on racial profiling and people made (shitty, cruel) legal arguments for why it should be:

THIS isn't funny. These are not the things that people are joking about when they choose to stay silly :3 in this conversation.

But these things also aren't news. Nearly everything I screencapped here was listed as a source on Wikipedia, and what wasn't was available as simple searches on Archive.Org or easily looked up on news websites.

All you have to do is just *look* at the sources on Wikipedia to see that people actually have been talking about it for quite a long time, very publicly, and that there has been a lot of public outcry about the list as it balloons and punishes innocent people with false positives:

And when you've been looking at stories like these for twenty fucking years it feels wonderful to say "holy fucking bingle" and celebrate that for once someone did something VERY COOL in order to shine a light on this massive (and apparently underappreciated problem).

[peterman-spideyparker]

Let There Be Love (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I didn't fall off the face of the earth! I've been writing, but, I've really just have had a lack of motivation to post. Enjoy! :)

Summary: When Matt asks you to find your cassette player, you humor him. As he pops in the tape and you begin to dance with one another, you recall the first time that you met your fiancé.

Warnings: Sweet fluff, established couple, flirty banter, kisses talk about marriage/wedding

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 1,252

“It’s evidence,” you say with a little shrug. “You’re an attorney. You can appreciate that, right?”

“It’s hoarding,” Matt chuckles as he walks over to you with a full glass of wine. 

He clinks his own glass to yours. “I keep what’s important,” you explain before you take a sip. 

He kisses your temple as his hand slides down the curve of your body. “Hoarder,” he murmurs.

“This hoarder will take her cassette tape player back into evidence lock up if she needs to—.” He gives you a little puppy dog pout, his eyes sparkling in the neon coming in through the frosted windows. You run your fingers through his hair as you lean forward with a kiss. “You know you love me.”

“Of course I do,” he says with another little kiss to your lips. “Thank you for your expansive evidence lock up, angel.”

“So,” you start, taking a sip of your wine and sitting on the sofa, tucking your feet underneath you. “Why did you need my cassette player?”

“Because we’ve been trying to figure out our first dance song,” he explains as he fiddles with the machine. “I was looking around in my bedside drawer for my backup glasses until I could get my regular ones fixed, and I found this tape. Do you have any idea what it is?”

“Foggy’s Intro to Punjabi tape?”

Matt tosses his head back in laughter. “C’mon, seriously.”

“I can’t say that I do! I mean, in all honesty, too, I think the last time I used a cassette was 2004. 2007, maybe.”

“This tape belonged to my dad. He made it. It had some of his favorites, some songs that he dedicated to my mom. One he thought they’d play at their wedding. I was listening to it one day—I was missing my dad, and I popped it on. Then, a girl with the prettiest voice I’d ever heard came knocking at my door with a bushel of carrots in her hand, asking if I’d seen a rabbit hopping about the residence hall . . .” You watch Matt smile as he gets the tape to play in the spot that he wants. “This was the song that was playing when we first met. This is the song that I’d like to play when I dance with you for the first time as my wife.”

“Now I feel bad about my joke.”

“C’mere.”

“Matt,” you hum sweetly, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table, moving to wrap your arms around his waist. 

“I can never remember the name of the song, I just know the sound. That’s why I needed the cassette player.”

He leans in, giving you a long kiss as you both slowly start to sway in a little circle. “You know where we found that rabbit?” I grin. 

Confusion briefly furrows his brows. “Where?”

“Our study spot. Well, it wasn’t our study spot at the time, but, that’s where Tony Hawk was. Like a sign. Premonition?”

“Wait, wait. The rabbit’s name was Tony Hawk?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I never told you that?”

“No!” he laughs, holding you closer. “I think I’d remember that detail.”

“Well, that’s what happens when a veterinarian student from Carlsbad, California is in charge of naming animals.”

“Well, then, thank God for Tony Hawk.” Matt leans in for a kiss as one of your most cherished memory to mind. 

“C’mon, c’mon,” you sigh as you look around desperately. How you're the one that got wrangled into finding a rabbit, you don’t know. It belongs to your roommates best friend’s boyfriend’s roommate, and yet you're the one carrying the bushel of carrots around your dorm trying to find the quickest bunny around. “Tony! C’mon Tony Hawk, I’ve got all these tasty carrots for you, pal!” Your eyes light up when you notice a door on the left of the hall is open. With any luck, he’s either snuck in there, or they at least noticed a rabbit bounce down the hall. Picking up your pace, you make your way down to the door. 

Gently knocking on the wooden frame, you poke your head in. 

“Hi,” you start, finding just one guy—one gorgeous guy—sitting on his bed with an open book and music gently playing in the background, something smooth and jazzy. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, but have you seen a rabbit around?”

He lifts his head up, his beautiful hazel eyes sparkling in the late afternoon light. The kind of bright light that happens just before dusk. His smile is warm and inviting, and your heart races. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you try to keep your cool. Based on his face, this is that hot blind law student you’ve heard all the girls talk about. Unfortunately, you're so focused on keeping your cool, you miss his response.

“Um,” he responds. Oh, hell, his voice is as warm as honey in tea. “Are you alright?”

“S-Sorry,” you stutter. “I’m okay. The bunny is just small, y’know? I’d really just like to get him back to his owner.”

He flashes you a little smirk, his brows bunching together in amusement. “The rabbit isn’t yours?”

“No,” you sigh, letting him in on your annoyance. “Long story. Don’t ask.”

“Okay, I won’t. For now, at least.” You chuckle softly as you dip your head. “I’m Matt, by the way.”

“(Y/N),” you respond. “It was nice to meet you, Matt. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No, not a bother at all.” The smile pulls back on his face as he pulls his fingers off of the open book in front of him. “I’d offer to help look, but, I have to go to class in a bit.”

“No, you’re totally okay. I appreciate it.”

“Maybe if you’re not still hunting for a rabbit later, we could grab some coffee.”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay,” he says softly.

You smile at one another like idiots for a good few beats before you start to slowly back out of his room. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

You sway with Matt in the living room, looking up at him, your entire world. Your sun, your moon, and your stars. And in a few months, he’ll officially be your husband.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.

“Just how that damn rabbit led me to the love of my life,” you say softly. “Do you think we would’ve found one another later in life had it not been for Tony Hawk?”

He just smiles as he leans his face toward yours. “You’re my destiny, angel. One way or another, I was always going to find you. I was always going to fall madly in love with you. I was always going to marry you.”

You feel how tears sting at your lash line. “You’re gonna make me bawl like a baby when we do our vows, huh?” you sniffle.

“Oh,” he says with a sweet pout. “I’m not that cruel. I’m going to write them out for you to read before the ceremony. If you’re gonna cry, what makes you think I’ll be able to get through saying them without crying?” Matt just leans in for a soft kiss, his lips lingering on yours for a long time before he’s satisfied. “I love you so incredibly much,” he whispers. “Thank you for loving me in return.”

You snuggle in on him, resting your ear right over his heart. “Forever and always, Matty.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione @catnip987​ @blackhawkfanatic

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters  @loves0phelia

[jackhues]

3 + 1 - sidney crosby

notes: i hope you guys like this, first fic for 'it's the most wonderful time of the year', had lots of fun making this!!

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

part of naqia's end of the year celly!

gif not mine

i. (1994)

you'd known sidney your entire life. one of the first memories you had with him was fighting him for the last hockey stick in the store.

well, it wasn't the last hockey stick. but it was the last one of all the types you used to play. it just so happened to be the only one sidney used.

after a game of rock, paper, scissors (you won), sidney got mad and demanded a best of three. maybe it was the defiant look in his eyes at only seven years old, but you decided he could have the stick.

"are you sure?" he asked, now looking hesitant about taking the stick.

you nodded, "i'm sure. they'll get one of the sticks i use in a few days. you can have this one. i'll just steal my brother's stick until then."

sidney grinned, "thanks, y/n."

you smiled back at him, feeling the start of a friendship. you'd lived near him your entire life, but you'd only begun talking to him because of hockey.

"just don't forget to send me a card when you go to one of your tourneys," you told him.

you and sidney laughed over that, before heading back home with your parents. it was after this day that you began to say hi to each other in the halls of school, that you decided to pair up for projects, that you became friends.

over the two months it took until christmas morning, you forgot about what you'd told him. but sidney didn't forget his promise.

and it was on december twenty fifth, that you received a post card in the mail from some place in quebec. a seven year old sidney had tried his best to make the letters look pretty, writing on the side, 'merry christmas, and thanks for the hockey stick, y/n. it helped me win!'

you peered in the envelope, finding a picture of sidney hoisting his giant hockey trophy. you smiled at that.

even though he was so far away, it felt like you were celebrating christmas together.

--

ii. (2004)

'sidney patrick crosby, you have got to be kidding me! you have a huge hotel, you're in finland, and you've got some of the best people with you. and yet, you're saying you wished you were here playing pond with the rest of us? you're crazy. anyways, make sure you score a goal or something, and have lots of fun! honestly, not scoring is fine if you have fun. good luck at the world juniors! i'll be cheering you on from back home :))'

you signed off the letter, sealing it and placing it to the side to deliver later.

at seventeen years old, sidney had become the only under-18 player at this year's world junior tournament for team canada. it was a thing to celebrate, but sidney was upset he would be missing the town's annual christmas pond hockey game.

you and him had played together on the same team for the last nine years, winning every time. this was the first time he wouldn't be here to help your team defend the title.

but that was okay, you thought as you packed up your christmas gear and made your way to the pond.

because sidney was going to play on your t.v. tomorrow, at the national level. it was his first time playing for canada, and you knew he was excited for that.

he just wasn't a fan of missing the small things.

it was why he'd began sending you letters and post cards as he moved around for tournaments and hockey games. they were cute souvenirs, and you didn't mind sending him a letter back.

you just wished he could've been here to celebrate christmas with the rest of you.

--

iii. (2009 - pretend ft was invented a year earlier)

"merry christmas, love."

you smiled, "merry christmas sid."

sidney adjusted his phone, fixing the facetime so you could see him better. you laughed as he struggled for a minute, finally getting a proper angle.

"don't move!" you said. "there, perfect. now your entire face is on my screen."

he laughed as he shook his head to himself.

the two of you had been friends for thirteen years before he worked up the courage to ask you out. and for the last two years of your relationship had been amazing. there were ups, like seeing him win the stanley cup, and there were downs, like seeing him take some uncalled for hits.

but you were happy. and so was sid.

the two of you had planned to celebrate christmas together in pittsburgh, until a family emergency had you coming back to nova scotia last minute.

everything turned out fine, but it was just too late to get a ticket back to pittsburgh.

even so, you and sid had found a way to work around that.

the two of you spent most of the day on the phone with each other, talking and laughing together. it wasn't what either of you had planned, but you made it enjoyable.

it was a great christmas.

--

iv. (2012)

"sidney, will you get down here already?"

"i'm coming, i'm coming," he called from upstairs.

you sighed, waiting for your husband to get up and get downstairs. christmas morning was the one morning you were happy to get out of bed, but it was also the one morning sid wanted to sleep in.

sam, sidney's dog, came down the stairs, curling around by the christmas tree as he waited for sid with you.

a few minutes passed before sidney made his way downstairs, eyes half closed but a sleepy smile plastered on his face to greet you.

"good morning, love," he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "merry christmas."

"merry christmas," you smiled, pressed a kiss to his jaw. "we eating breakfast first or presents first?"

"mmm, breakfast," sid decided.

"i knew you were going to say that," you laughed, pulling him along to the kitchen.

you'd already prepared breakfast before he came down. some eggs, sausage and bread. it was a good way to pass the time as you waited for sid to get downstairs.

the two of you took your seats, laughing as you ate breakfast and discussed how far you'd gone in life together.

"you almost tripped on the ice," he reminded you.

"no one told me i had to go out on the ice after you guys won," you argued. "i was so excited over you guys winning the stanley cup, i didn't even notice i was being ushered to the ice until i took my first step."

sid laughed as the two of you slowly made your way to the living room.

"here, open my present first," he said, rummaging under the tree to pull out a long, rectangular box.

the two of you had started the tradition of opening all of your sentimental gifts before the other cute ones. and even though you wanted to go first this year, you supposed it was alright if sid got this one.

you unwrapped the box, pulling out a familiar hockey stick. one that you'd given sidney eighteen years ago.

"oh my god," you muttered, tears building up in your eyes.

"i found it in my parent's garage last summer," he shrugged a little. "i remembered how badly you wanted it. and even though it's too small now, i thought you'd like the memory."

"i love it," you grinned, wiping the corners of your eyes. "it's absolutely perfect. i'm putting this up next to that picture of you holding up the trophy."

sid laughed at your response, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"you can do whatever you like with it."

you put the stick to the side, your hands slightly shaky as you grabbed another, much smaller, box. "here. now open my present."

sid took the box from your hands, unwrapping it and opening it. he stared at the contents of the box, unable to form a sentence as he looked between the box and you.

"you -- this -- seriously?" his eyes shined as he stared at you.

you nodded, feeling the tears build up yourself. "we're having a baby."

sid laughed, pulling you in for a hug. "oh my god, this is amazing. a baby, you and me."

the two of you held each other that day, celebrating christmas together.

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, language

Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

February 2004

Des Moines, IA

You gripped your knife tightly in your fist, the blade pointed towards the ground as you crouched silently forward, choosing your steps very carefully. About 5 feet away from the runner, you stupidly stepped on a piece of glass you didn't notice embedded on the thin carpet. The runner whipped around with a scream, lunging towards you snapping its teeth in the air. You sidestepped it at the last minute, kicking and making it fall face first onto the ground. You jumped on its back and jammed your knife deep into its skull, blood dripping down to absorb into the floor as you panted heavily.

"What the hell was that?!" Joel yelled, whipping the back door open. You felt the cold blast of air hit you, even from all the way across the restaurant. You tugged on your knife, removing it from the runner's head and wiped it on the back of its shirt before putting the knife back on your hip.

"There was one left, must've missed it," you called back to him, brushing yourself off and walking towards the back of the room.

"Shit, I swore I got 'em all. You good?" He said, looking you over with his flashlight as you approached. You held up your hand to your eyes to block the beam of light.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I fucked up," you said, lowering your hand when he aimed his light down, satisfied you were not harmed. "I stepped on some glass, had to get creative. You think we can stay here the night? I think these cushions come off the booths. Not sure we can find any extra blankets here, though."

"We can put on layers, we've been through worse," Joel said, already yanking on some of the booth cushions, pulling a few out on the floor to sleep on.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, then check the kitchen. I'll be right back," you dropped your pack on the ground and strolled off towards the women’s room in the corner. Once you were done, you stared at yourself in the mirror over the bathroom sink, shocked to see how different you looked. You hadn't seen a mirror in several weeks. Your face looked more hollow, you definitely had lost some weight. You pulled your hair out of the ponytail you typically kept, realizing that it was the longest you’ve seen it since you were little. You tried running your fingers through it to manage it a bit, but it seemed hopeless. You gathered your hair back behind your head and slid the hair-tie over it once again.

You didn't find much left in the restaurant kitchen, which was a huge disappointment. You were running low on food, having walked through thick forests and then open prairies for the past two weeks, not coming across any shelters to raid. Joel had purposely redirected you to this city in the hopes of restocking your food supplies and taking a short break from sleeping in the freezing cold wilderness. Luckily, your bow and arrows proved very useful, and kept the two of you fed when you had barely anything else to survive. Joel had never used a bow before yours, so you had taught him the basics from what you could remember. He seemed to have a knack for survival. He caught on very quickly and soon became better with it than you.

You sighed as you opened the last cupboard door, finding it just as empty as the rest. You were about to close it when a colorful wrapper caught your eye, shoved all the way in the back behind some pots. You reached your arm in as far as it could go, your fingertips barely grazing the item before you managed to pull it forward a smidge and grab it. You could have cried you were so happy with what you found.

“Joel!” you called out as you walked back into the dining room, heading towards the small lit up area he made for the two of you and your sleeping bag already rolled out on your cushion. “You’ll never believe what I found!”

He turned around from adjusting his own sleeping bag. He immediately spotted the jar in your hand and groaned. “Peanut butter!” he exclaimed with relief, “Fuck yes.” He sat down on his cushion to dig out the spoons from your packs. You both ate in silence, enjoying eating something other than rabbit or squirrel for the first time in weeks. You still had some provisions in your packs that lasted you about a week after you left Chicago, but as you traveled more out west, the options became limited, and the weather slowed you down significantly, causing you to eat through a lot of your food. You had become dependent on the wildlife for sustenance, and you got lucky, but it was getting old.

Joel had been kind enough to bury your parents before you moved on. He didn’t want you to have to help carry their bodies, so he had to make do with burying them where they were killed. He found a broken shovel about half a mile down the road in an abandoned mechanic’s shop, and it took him the rest of the day, but he made sure they were taken care of. He even found some large rocks to mark their graves. He was worried about you for a long time after that. You were distant and didn’t speak much. He didn't know what to do, other than giving you space and time to process your grief, while taking on as many of the responsibilities he could to keep you both alive. He insisted on being the one to hunt as often as possible. He sought out as many safe places indoors to set up camp as he could, even if it meant wasting half the day’s sunlight, he would sacrifice it so you would be more comfortable. He stayed in those places a day or two longer than he wanted, just so you could possibly sleep a little more soundly. It hardly mattered anyway: he wasn’t convinced he would ever find Tommy, or even if he was still alive. There didn’t seem to be much rush to your journey anymore, but it gave you something to fight for, so he kept pushing forward.

Then, one day, he did something to make you laugh. He couldn't even remember what it was, but hearing the sound made him desperate to make you do it again. So, the next day, he tried telling you a shitty joke, and you laughed again. Every time he heard it, he felt his chest loosen and his breathing eased. You seemed like yourself again, but he could tell the deaths of your parents changed you. You became more hardened, more focused, and angrier at the world around you. He noticed the way you took down infected with such ferocity, such disdain. It used to bother you, but now you could kill one without blinking an eye. He knew it was foolish to expect your innocence to remain intact, but every night he still wished he could somehow shield you from it all.

Somewhat full, you laid down on your cushion and wrapped yourself in your sleeping bag, exhaling softly and closing your eyes. Joel gazed at you a little longer than he should have before he leaned over to turn the lanterns off. Tomorrow, he knew you would have to venture back out into the cold and find some more food. He had hoped this restaurant would have had more than enough, but someone before him must have thought the same thing. He turned his head to glance over at you again in the darkness, listening to your steady breathing. He still ached for you, desperately. He hoped he didn't read the signals wrong that morning in your bedroom - there was no way he could have - but the more time that passed, the more unsure of himself he became. He was so close. So close to tasting you again, holding you in his arms, protecting you from the evil surrounding you.

He stared up at the ceiling and focused on falling asleep. He needed to be alert and well rested so you could finally find some food and get back on the road.

The two of you were walking down the street the next morning after having eaten the rest of the peanut butter and not much else. This part of town seemed to be abandoned by people, but you did come across a few infected. Most of the time, you heard them clamoring about in a closed up building you passed, but a few did cross your path that you had to take down. Joel had a theory that the infected slowed down in the colder months, that maybe they went dormant, or it was just harder for them to move. Whatever the reason, he seemed to be right. Even when you did come across one, they seemed a lot slower, making your job much easier.

As you made your way towards the end of the road, the houses and trees cleared and you could see further ahead, smiling when you saw a familiar logo. You turned to Joel, who seemed to notice it, too.

"I don't think I've ever been so excited to see a Walmart before," you said, smiling in his direction. He chuckled, shaking his head.

"It's a big store, we gotta be real careful. Ain't no way we can clear the whole place by ourselves," he told you as you entered the parking lot. "Gotta stay close together and be silent. No guns. Let's just stick to the grocery section, take what we need, and get the hell out." You nodded, looking at the building as you approached it from the outside, trying to listen for any noise coming from within. Joel put his hand out on your arm to stop you, making you twist around and giving him a confused look.

"I mean it," he said, looking serious. "Could be a whole hoard in there. And it'll be dark. It's risky."

"I know, I'll be careful, I promise," you gave him a look just as serious to prove you were paying attention. His eyes shifted back and forth between yours before nodding his head in the direction of the store.

You both stepped quietly inside the store through the broken sliding door, clicking on your flashlights and looking at your surroundings before making a move. Your attention went up to the signs hanging above the aisles, spotting the grocery section was straight ahead past the cash registers. The two of you crept forward, careful not to step on anything that would give away your position. You walked through the bakery, surrounded by moldy bread. So far, the place seemed quiet, but that didn't necessarily mean it was empty.

The store was reasonably picked over but there were a few things left on the shelves you could use. You packed your bag with rice, chicken broth, a few cans of dented soup, and a jar of pasta sauce. For the sake of being extra quiet, you motioned with your finger for Joel to step forward, and you stretched to whisper in his ear.

"We should check out the stock room," you said quietly, your breath tickling his neck. It wasn't the sexiest thing anyone had ever said to him, but that didn't matter. He nodded and suppressed the urge to shudder. He picked up his bag and led you to the end of the aisle, looking both ways before leading you to the swinging doors on the wall. Joel held out a hand for you to stay put while he pushed the door open a crack, sweeping his flashlight across the room. It had aisles, just like the store, but it wasn't as neatly organized. Once he confirmed it was safe, you both entered, scanning the shelves to pinpoint where the groceries were stocked. Your flashlight landed on a corner of the room where you recognized boxes of crackers and cans of vegetables. You nudged him with your elbow, and you both made your way over, checking down every aisle before advancing.

Your jaw dropped at the amount of food that was left. Someone had the same idea as you, it wasn't fully stocked, but it was much more well stocked than the shelves out front. You hurriedly packed your bags with as many useful items as you could carry. You were so hungry, but you had to resist the urge to rip into anything right then and there, afraid the noise of a wrapper would possibly draw attention.

You were just finishing up when Joel wandered towards the end of the aisle, his flashlight settling on something shiny the next aisle over. He squinted and bent down to get a closer look through the shelves. By the time he realized he was looking at blood pooling around a dead clicker, it was too late. A pair of arms reached out behind him, yanking him backwards. A hand covered his mouth and an arm squeezed around his neck, making his vision go fuzzy. His eyes shot over to you in a panic. You were still crouching over your backpacks, facing away from him, and zipping them closed. He brought his hands up and laced them together before driving his elbow behind him, hitting the man right in the diaphragm. The grip on his throat instantly loosened and the man doubled over coughing. You whipped around now, your knife already in your hand. You watched as Joel brought his knee up to the man's face twice, blood bursting from his mouth and nose, staining Joel's pants. Joel drove his knife into the man's eye, his body twitching before slumping on the floor at his feet.

Joel looked up just in time to see you dodging the knife of a second man, kicking him in the groin before shoving your knife between his ribs. He ran down the aisle to you, hearing the man's raspy breaths as blood filled his lungs. You pulled your knife out and stabbed him again, this time closer to the heart. The raspy breathing stopped, and his body relaxed against the linoleum floor. Joel sighed in relief, slowing his pace, his heart pounding.

Then he felt something hard hit the back of his head, causing him to fall forward, his vision narrowing as he fought the urge to pass out. Joel felt the heavy boot of his attacker sticking to his back as he tried to push himself up, but his head was swimming, and he couldn't find the strength. He collapsed back on the floor with a grunt, blinking his eyes frantically trying to clear his vision. He was struggling to breathe with the weight of the man's foot pressed on his back, and once again raised himself up to try and roll over when the pressure on his back was suddenly gone. He gasped for breath, pulling himself into a seated position and shaking his head wildly, his vision finally clearing.

You had tackled and pinned Joel's attacker on the ground, sitting on his chest as you struggled with his knife between the two of you, the blade pointed downwards towards his throat as you gritted your teeth and pushed down with everything you had. His feet kicked wildly underneath you, trying to roll you off, but you weren't budging, your eyes burning into his as the blade scratched at his throat. Joel stumbled to his feet, still dizzy, as he struggled to make his way towards you. With a loud grunt, you put all your weight onto the hilt of the knife, lifting off his chest and finally piercing through his skin until you could feel the tip of the knife make contact with the linoleum. He laid underneath you gurgling as blood poured from his neck, his eyes wild with fear. You panted heavily, letting your muscles relax after the strenuous fight. With your weight off his chest, the man was able to grab a second knife you hadn't noticed from his belt and stabbed frantically at your side, which you tried to swat away before his arm grew weak and he stopped breathing.

Joel's arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the dead man, turning you around to look at you closer with his flashlight. Your face was splattered with blood, your hair wild, covered with sweat and still gasping for air. He aimed his flashlight lower and noticed a big red circle of blood staining the side of your t-shirt. His breath caught in his throat and the adrenaline sharpened his vision as he lifted your shirt up gingerly. You winced when the fabric peeled away from your skin, not realizing you had been hurt until that moment.

"Oh, fuck," Joel whispered and his breathing picked up as he glanced around for something to stop the bleeding. You had been stabbed along your ribs and down your side. He couldn't tell how deep the wound was in the dark, but it was enough to cause you to bleed heavily. He grabbed a used rag from his jeans pocket, pressing on your wound firmly, making you cry out in pain. He wrapped your hands over the rag and instructed you to press as hard as you could. He ran back to grab your packs, slinging both backpacks, the rifle and the bow over his shoulder. When you saw him trying to pull everything onto his back, you held your hand out to him.

"Give me my pack," you rasped. He shook his head, still trying to find a way to carry it all. "Give it to me!" you raised your voice in a harsh whisper now, giving him a look that meant were serious. He relented, gently putting the straps over your shoulders, then pulling out a new rag to wedge between your side wound and the strap of your backpack.

You leaned on Joel as he led you out of the back room, pausing briefly to make sure there weren’t any others, then headed back towards the front door. It began snowing while you were inside, and the wind was picking up, making it difficult to see. He looked around, desperately trying to find a safe place to take you.

Across the street he could make out a strip mall, and one of the buildings looked like it was a dentist's office. It was a long walk across the big parking lot, but he moved as fast as he could while you leaned on him for support. He propped you up against the building to catch your breath as he used his knife to work the lock of the office open.

"Stay here," he instructed. You nodded weakly; your eyes half closed. He pushed the door open and checked to make sure the small office was empty of threats before taking you inside. He helped you sit down in one of the exam chairs, pushing it back so it reclined. You stared up at the ceiling and at the lamp dangling over your face. Joel pushed the curtains open in the room and looked down at the wound on your ribs, noticing the amount of blood increased due to the walk across the street: it was now trailing down past your hips and nearly touching your mid-thigh. He took the soiled rag from your hand and replaced it with a fresh one while he went to work ripping open drawers and cabinets. He finally found a needle and thread and a stack of stainless-steel bowls. He set the needle aside and picked up some of the bowls.

"You keep pressin' as hard as you can, you hear me?" he said, and you nodded as you draped your other arm across your eyes. "I gotta go out and get some snow, I'll be back in a minute. You holler if you need anythin'."

Joel stepped out the door with the bowls in his hand, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. He scooped up snow into the bowls, grateful it had begun to storm since it would hide your tracks and keep any raiders away.

He came back into the room and saw you had nearly bled through another rag. He set a couple bowls aside to melt into drinkable water and took a handful from another, pressing it against your wound. You hissed at the contact, but after a minute the numbness from the cold made your muscles relax.

Joel dug around in his pack to find some rubbing alcohol he had taken from your apartment months ago. He found another clean rag to drench the alcohol in and removed the snow from your side.

“I ain’t gonna lie to you, this is gonna hurt. You need to hold onto somethin’?” he asked you, trying to hide the tremor in his hand. You shook your head, turning your face away from him and gripped the arm of the chair anyway. He pressed the alcohol-soaked rag onto the stab wound, finally cleaning some of the blood away to get a better look at what he was dealing with. You groaned and your body tensed, but you remained as still as possible while he cleaned you up. He could see a stab wound between two of your ribs. It didn’t look very deep, but it was wide. He made his way down your side, cleaning the blood up as he went with the snow and then the rag, refreshing it with alcohol when he needed to. There was a longer gash down the length of your side, maybe about five inches long. It was wide, but it was shallow. There were a few other scratches as well, but those would be fine to heal on their own. He gauged the main problem would be the wound between your ribs, and the long gash.

He turned around to prep the needle, filling a bowl with some rubbing alcohol and pulled out more rags. Turning back to you, he was startled to find you looking at him. He swallowed, bringing the needle and black thread towards you.

“Are you ready?” he asked you, and you nodded steadily, but he could see the fear in your eyes. He laid a hand on top of one of yours reassuringly. “I got this, I got you,” he said. You turned away from him then, staring at the wall opposite you as you braced for the pain. The first few times he pierced you with the needle hurt the most, then as you got used to the pain and knew what to expect, it got a little easier to handle. He took his time with the stab wound, he wanted to make sure he didn’t have to redo that later, then let you have a break before starting on the long gash. He told you it would only need a few stitches, just where the wound was the widest so it wouldn’t scar too badly. That part ended up hurting the most since it was closer to the bones of your ribs and there was less fat to cushion the pain.

Once the stitches were done, he rinsed everything with the rubbing alcohol from the bowl, his hands and needle included. He made a mental note to keep that needle in his pack in case one of you got hurt again.

“You hungry?” Joel asked you, and you nodded eagerly but then winced at the pain the movement caused. He dug around in his pack for some of the food you had grabbed from Walmart and set you up with a few things to eat, then went to explore the rest of the office in hopes of finding some medicine. He got lucky in the dentist’s actual office, finding a few bottles of antibiotics and some pain killers in his desk drawer. He made sure you took two antibiotics with your food before finding something to eat for himself. He sat hunched over against the wall in the room, looking down at his food and avoiding eye contact. You adjusted yourself in the chair so you could look at him and let out a whimper when the movement was too much. He shot up to help you, but you waved him off.

“What’s going on?” you asked him directly, staring him down. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with grief and anger.

“This was my fault,” he said bluntly, a clipped tone to his voice.  “I wasn’t payin’ attention, I should’ve seen that guy comin’, and it got you hurt. If somethin’ worse woulda happened, I never would’ve forgiven myself,” his voice broke at the end of his sentence, looking away from you so you couldn’t see the emotion in his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault. We got jumped, don't beat yourself up about it. Please," you told him, trying to catch his eye again but failing. "Joel?" you said, but he turned away, rubbing his hands up and down his face like he always does when he's frustrated. "Joel!" you called out again, this time more firmly. He stilled, and slowly turned to face you, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Us or them," you said, staring intently at him, desperately trying to communicate the words you couldn't say.

He let out a shaky sigh, and nodded, breaking eye contact with you and gazed out the window at the snow fall. "Shoulda been me," he said quietly.

"Yeah, well," you grunted as you struggled to sit up in the chair, "I'm glad it wasn't because I couldn't carry all our stuff and you out of there," he turned his head to look back at you, then giving him a smirk, added, "I would've left you for dead."

His lips twitched as he tried to hold back his grin at your joke, not ready to forgive himself yet. He cleared his throat and leaned over to sling your backpacks over his shoulders.

"The dentist had a couch in his office. C'mon, grab my shoulder, lean on me," he said, bending forward so you could get yourself into a standing position. It took a few tries; the pain was worse than you had expected now that you were moving. You slowly ambled down the hall with Joel, and he got you stretched out on the couch before he unzipped your sleeping bag and rested it on top of you like a blanket.

He rolled his own sleeping bag out on the floor next to you, grateful the couch came with two pillows. It had been a long time since either of you slept on one. It was still daylight out, but the blizzard made it darker outside. Joel let you rest while he went around the office to see if there was anything else of use now that he wasn't so frantic. He had completely missed the small break room towards the back of the building. He found some unopened bottles of water, snacks, a couple cans of soup and crackers. He spread all the usable food out on the table but brought the crackers back with him to check on you. You were still laying stiffly on the couch and staring at a stock photo of a beach on the wall, looking uncomfortable.

"Are you in pain? I got some pills from the drawer," Joel dug out the bottle and read the warning label. "They sound pretty strong." You shook your head, not wanting to dull your senses in case of another attack, but now that the stiffness was setting in, the pain was getting worse. You glanced out the window, seeing the storm outside. Deciding it was unlikely anyone would be out in the snow and find you, you changed your mind and stuck your hand out to him. He dropped two pills into your hand and gave you a water bottle.

"Here, have a little somethin’ more to eat with those, don't need you gettin' sick," he said, offering the crackers in your direction. You took the sleeve from him and munched on one slowly as you waited for the pills to kick in. Joel walked around to the desk and collapsed into the leather chair, kicking his feet up on the desktop and mindlessly flipped through open patient charts left on the desk. You shoved another cracker in your mouth and watched the snow coming down outside. You sat up a little more on the couch. The movement made you feel dizzy from the pills, but you hardly felt a thing at your side when you moved. Your eyes drifted lazily to Joel’s broad figure sitting behind the wooden desk. It brought back memories you hadn’t thought about in months. Memories of a different time, when you would sit on the other side of his desk all flustered and nervous.

He looked up and caught you staring at him. “What?” he asked, a bemused expression on his face. You shook your head but couldn’t stop the stupid smile from spreading across your face. Goddamn pills.

“Nothing, it’s just funny…” you started, trailing off and then giggled, causing Joel to raise his eyebrows and grin.

“Those pills must be workin’, huh?” he asked, his grin widening. You nodded, stifling your giggles and took a deep breath.

“I was just thinking, everyone used to be so scared of you in the office, they would warn me to steer clear of you, that you had a horrible temper. And look at us now,” you let out another giggle before continuing. “What the hell happened?”

He smiled at you again and tipped his head back on the top of the leather chair to look up towards the ceiling, remembering life the way it was before.

“Yeah, I was an asshole, wasn’t I?” he said, making you laugh harder now, then you clutched your side with a small wince. “Hey, take it easy, you might not feel anythin’ but you can still pop a stitch.” You quieted your laughter now, knowing he was right, and chewed the inside of your cheek thoughtfully, reminiscing about those days just 6 short months ago. Joel rolled his head to the side to look at you. “I didn’t scare you, though,” he said quietly, not sure why he was encouraging you while you were in this state.

You glanced back at him and shook your head, then held up one finger. “Only once,” you said definitively.

He stared at you and held his breath. He knew exactly what you were referring to: the argument the two of you had that was never brought up again. The day he called you a whore and ruined everything. He was the first to look away, casting his gaze back down on the desk before him. He should have apologized by now, he should have explained himself, but he always found an excuse to avoid it. Today’s excuse was you were too loopy on the pain pills and that conversation needed to happen when you both had a clear head. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers as you waited for him to say something. Anything to take back what he said. 

“I think you should get some sleep,” he finally told you, dropping his hand and looking up at you. You knew he was going to avoid talking about it, but you were still disappointed. The pills had really taken effect now as you felt your eyelids grow heavy. You sighed, scooting down to lay flat on the couch and pulling your sleeping bag over you. You closed your eyes but couldn’t resist saying one more thing.

“I would do anything for you,” you whispered before nodding off. Joel’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes fluttered shut as he tried to hold back the tears that unexpectedly sprung to his eyes.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he whispered back, but you were already asleep.

The storm let up after another day, which was just as well since it allowed you more time to heal. Joel didn’t want to stay long at this place, worried that the attackers had a larger group and would come looking for you. Once the snow stopped and you had replenished your backpacks with more rags, first aid, and the food from the break room, you were off at first light. You both realized quickly that you were making terrible time since the snow was knee deep and you were already struggling to stay balanced due to your injury. After a very slow mile, Joel had found a sturdy fallen branch for you that he broke down into a more manageable size, allowing you to use it like a cane in the snow. You had to admit that it made traveling a lot easier, but you were still fighting to hide the throbbing pain at your side. After another hour, Joel agreed to let you rest. He made sure you took your antibiotic and ate some more crackers. Your feet felt numb, even though you had 3 pairs of socks and thick hiking boots.

"Joel," you whined, looking up at him standing guard as he surveyed the thick forest around you. "How much longer are we going to walk? This snow is so deep, and my side is killing me."

"I gotta find us somewhere safe, then we can stay there til you're all healed up and we'll wait out the rest of winter, I promise," he said, looking down at you now and meeting your gaze, "I'm gonna take care of you."

You sighed and regretted complaining almost immediately. You could tell he was still beating himself up over how you got injured and you didn't want to keep reminding him of it. He was shouldering too many responsibilities and you could see the worry and anxiety behind his eyes.

"Alright, let's get moving, I'm good," you said, using your stick to pull yourself back up into a standing position. Joel glanced over you once more to make sure you were, in fact, 'good' like you claimed. Satisfied, he turned and led you through the woods. The trees were thick, mostly pine trees that kept all their needles in the winter. It was good to keep you hidden but it was also bad because it could keep someone else hidden, too.

After another few miles, Joel paused a moment to examine his map. He had a general idea where you were, but he didn’t exactly have a destination in mind. He just figured he would know it when he saw it, and it turned out, he was right.

His head was down examining the map in his hands as he walked through the forest and approaching a clearing. Now he wasn’t sure he knew where you were, since the location on the map still showed greenery up ahead. He was mumbling to himself about getting turned around when you gasped, and his head shot up.

You had stumbled across a small neighborhood of about ten or twelve houses, all surrounded by the lush forest you had just hiked through. He had to blink a few times, feeling like he was looking at an oasis in the desert. As you approached the neighborhood, you passed a sign that read 'Hidden Springs - lots starting at $200,000'.

"Man, they really knew what they were doing when they named this place," you joked as you walked side by side down the abandoned street. The houses were all finished except for three which were partially constructed, forever frozen in time.

"This must be a new neighborhood, that's why it ain't showing up on the map," Joel said excitedly as he spun around to make sure you were still alone. "I haven't seen any tracks or smoke or nothin', this place is off the grid," he turned to smile at you. "We can work with this."

You grinned happily, so relieved to finally have found a place where you could rest for more than a couple nights.

"Well, which house d'you want?" Joel asked, looking at all the houses up and down. They were mostly two-story houses, but there were a couple of small ranch homes interspersed. You spotted one in the middle of the neighborhood on your right-hand side and pointed to it. it was a white two-story house with blue shutters and a red door.

"I've always wanted a wraparound porch," you said. "What do you think?" He couldn't keep the smile off his face, the whole place seemed too good to be true and best of all, you would be happy and safe.

He made his way up the front porch to peer inside the windows. He didn't see any movement, and fortunately it looked like the previous owners had a chance to move in, spotting the fully furnished living room. He had insisted on making you wait outside until he could be certain the place was abandoned before letting you in. The house was beautiful and practically brand new. You drifted from room to room to get a feel for the layout: the stairs and a hallway leading to the kitchen faced you right as you walked in the front door, a living room to your right and a den to your left, and a half bath attached to the hallway. The kitchen had a small mudroom attached, which led to the backyard. Upstairs there were three bedrooms and a bathroom. The master bedroom was the only room that had windows facing the front of the house, so you chose to stay in that room, both of you slipping into the king size bed without even questioning if you should sleep apart.

Chapter Thirteen

Taglist: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777

[dollsofthewest]

AG Cowgirl Outfits

Following in the footsteps of @enby-dollhouse and @doll-collecting-aerialist, who did posts on the variety of ballerina and tennis outfits respectively, I wanted to do my take on a section of AG outfits I love: cowgirls! Saddle up and let's head out!

Rootin', Tootin' Cowgirl (1998)

Okay, so maybe this is the outfit that inspired me to do this post in the first place. This is adorable. It's rootin'. It's tootin'. I love the bright blue color. It's advertised as a Halloween costume, but doubles just fine as a fancy rodeo outfit. I do like the idea that you can be the sheriff, or the bandit, or both at the same time! And lest we forget to mention that black cat trick-r-treat bucket!!

Molly's Dude Ranch Outfit (2004)

Is anybody doing it like Miss Molly? This outfit was not connected with any book but released as part of a "Summer Fun" collection. I like to imagine Molly went to a dude ranch near Yellowstone National Park, or maybe somewhere along her Route 66 Adventure. It's cute and pretty authentic to rodeo shows. Also, look at her little canteen!

Nicki's Ranch Outfit (2007)

Most cowgirls don't wear the fancy rodeo costumes like a lot of people think: those are for the shows and fairs! During her daily work, Nicki wears her own pink version of modern jeans, chaps, and boots. And of course her staw hat to protect her from the sun.

Rustic Ranch Outfit (2008)

Another practical outfit; it may look impractical to wear a skirt but I've seen girls who prefer it, if they are riding side-saddle. The vest is kind've plain, but it comes with a horse-themed scrapbook and a (faux) leather Western Hat.

Western Riding Outfit (2010)

Definitely a casual pick for our cowgirl. Fit for farm or school, everybody knows exactly what animal is this American Girl's favorite. Like Nicki, this girl wears a straw hat, but she'll need sunblock if she's going to ride all day with those short sleeves and skirt!

Western Plaid Outfit (2014)

I like to think of this as Abercrombie Horse Girl. I'm not sure how practical that dress is for horse riding, and I'm a bit worried about those loose band around her boots. Still, this girl has something not previously seen, even with Nicki, and that's the very important helmet! Always wear a helmet while horse riding!!

Pretty Pink Riding Outfit (2014)

Sold at the same time as the previous one, so you could choose which outfit you wanted with your life-saving helmet. This girl is wearing what I liked to call Gucci Horse Girl.

Blue-Ribbon Riding Outfit (1998)

I forgot this one so I'm adding it here to show you what I would consider an Ideal Horse Riding outfit. Helmet: check! Proper boots: check! The coat even comes with functional pockets and inner thigh padding. She certainly gets the blue ribbon from me for best dressed!

Maryellen's Cowgirl Outfit (2022)

Ah, a return to classics! This is about as stereotypical "cowgirl" as you can get. As far as I'm aware, this is meant to be her Halloween costume, which tracks with how popular cowgirls & cowboys were during the 1950s. Lookin' cute, Miss Maryellen!

Lila's Horseback Riding Outfit (2024)

I think when Glen Campbell sang "Rhinestone Cowboy" he wasn't talking about this. Still, maybe this is what horse girls these days wear? It's a shame to see a modern girl without a helmet, but you can't deny this fits Miss Lila's style to a tee!

What is your favorite AG cowgirl/horse-riding outfit? What would you like to see made in the future?

[em1e]

⠀ ⠀ ༝ i hate you for what you did, and i miss you like a little kid.

⠀ 一虎 // MOTION SICKNESS ⠀ ༝ ༝ kazutora hanemiya ⠀ ༝ ༝ 2.3k words ⠀ ⚠︎ angst + valhalla spoilers + IM SORRY ! ⠀ — he’s taller, now, hair bleached, but it’s still those same wide eyes that meet your own.

january 16, 2000 

baji and kazutora were constants in your life. 

being neighbors with baji left you trailing behind him like a puppy, and the idea of having someone as kind as you by his side made him happy - so despite his complaints and the bickering that always ensued between the two of you, he decided to keep you tucked away like a secret. 

and when he introduces you to kazutora, it’s another warm friendship melting easily with the first. 

and the three of you form an unbreakable bond, with the promise to always help each other when in need. kazutora would spend more time in your house than his own, and your parents take him in easily. it’s a taste of love he’s never felt, and when he lays on your bedroom floor next to a sleeping baji, he finds it hard to fall asleep with that feeling swelling deep in his chest and taking root under his heart. 

august 22, 2003 

it’s baji who comes to your door late one night. who else, when his other half is in juvie as he tells you. 

you break into a sob at the news, and it’s baji who holds you with apologies falling off of his lips as if somehow he’s to blame for it all. 

he holds you until you wear yourself out, and stays with you when you beg him to through tears. another promise it made there, to never leave one another behind, and it’s a promise you intend to hold kazutora to once he’s released. 

baji rubs your back until you’re asleep, and he wonders if there was something he could’ve done to avoid this heartache; from seeing his friend carted away in handcuffs, from seeing you cry. he wishes he could go back, just for a moment, to change this outcome. 

september 12, 2004

you wrote to kazutora when you could, but never received any replies. baji caught you once in the middle of you preparing a life update, snatching the paper from your desk and holding it above your head when you reached for it. 

“give it back, baji!” 

he stands on his toes to keep it out of your grasp, and chifuyu grumbles from your floor something about that not being the study sheet we’re working on. 

“what’s this, a love letter?” he snorts, squinting to read the letters, “‘happy birthday kazu! baji and i miss you lots, even if he won’t say it outloud-’.” 

you stomp on his foot and snatch the letter away when he slouches in pain, glaring at him, “you’re such a dick sometimes.” 

“he never writes you back, i don’t know why you keep sending those.” baji huffed out, sitting on the floor beside chifuyu, “he probably doesn’t even get them.” 

“what does it matter,” you roll your eyes, placing the paper in a folder and leaving it on your desk, exchanging it for the aforementioned study sheet, “s’not like it’s anything to do with you anyways.” 

“it does,” he argues, despite the glare you send him, “my name is very clearly mentioned.” 

“i just don’t want him to think we’ve forgotten about him or don’t care about him.” you say finally, and the way your gaze falls on him leaves him looking away with a small fine, whatever. 

the tension that remains bleeds from the air and crawls under your skin, but chifuyu clears his throat and flips through the first few pages of the worksheet with a hum, “what the fuck is hydrolysis?” and that is enough to clear the air.  

october 20, 2005

two years pass and not a single letter is returned. 

some days you wonder if you should call the center, ask if maybe there was something wrong with what you’re putting in them as if that could be the reason he isn’t getting them, but the fear of knowing that not being the reason he won’t reply frightens you beyond belief. you want to ask the post office if there’s any way all one-hundred and six letters could have been lost in the mail or sent to the wrong place, but you’re all-too aware of the return address being labeled as your home. 

instead, you settle with the unknown. there’s no getting hurt that way, no way of truly finding out if he was ignoring you for all of two years. 

it’s not until you bump shoulders with a stranger outside of the market that you get to piece things together. you’d recognize that tiger tattoo from anywhere. 

“‘tora?” 

the bags you’re holding almost slip from your grasp, scrambling to free a hand to grab at his elbow and turn him around. he’s taller, now, hair bleached, but it’s still those same wide eyes that meet your own. you swallow dryly. 

“when- when’d you get out?” 

he tilts his head at you, earring chiming from the movement, “last week. thought baji would’ve told you.” 

“me too . . .” you’re hurt by the admission, he can tell. you clear your throat, “the letters i sent - did you ever get them?” 

“i did.” 

the confession is enough to break what little resolve you have, frowning, “unable to reply, or . .?”

“didn’t see the need, “ he hums out, straightening with a smile when he looks behind you. a glance over your shoulder and you see baji, sharp toothed grin faltering when his eyes find you. 

“what a nice reunion,” baji settles for when he finds himself standing beside kazutora, patting your head before wrapping an arm around kazutora’s shoulders, “should’ve planned a picnic or somethin’.” 

you shove at baji’s shoulder half heartedly, “why didn't you tell me kazu was released, you asshole. and what happened to your knuckles?”

he jerks his hand from your grasp when you grab for it, ignoring the hurt you hold in the furrow of your brow at his reaction. 

“huh? must’ve slipped my mind,” he pulls on kazutora’s shoulder, forcing him to turn, “anyways, we gotta go! have plans we just can’t miss.” he gives a wave as he walks away, kazutora in tow. 

you come home that night to a message from baji. barely able to finish reading it through your tears, but you’re able to get the basic understanding. 

kazutora and i decided we’re on different paths in life, so we’re cutting you out. 

the promise to stay together breaks apart by the seams with each tear that falls down your cheeks. kazutora never replied to your letters, didn’t even bother to look for you after he got out, and baji’s being ripped from your grasp. it feels like every piece of yourself you’ve been holding onto for the past two years is being brutally torn away from you with each second that passes, and for the first time in your life, there is no one there to help you hold it all together. 

november 3, 2005

you’d been planning his birthday for weeks before the actual date. despite the message he sent to you previously, you’d continued to prepare for something, even if he wouldn’t show up. 

except, that’s not the reason he doesn’t come. 

it’s chifuyu now, who distributes the bad news to you with a frown, and you want to tear down each decoration you’ve put around your home as if that’d undo the words that have left his lips. 

and when you crumble to the floor, it’s chifuyu who comforts you in a way that’s all too familiar, but never the same as before. you’d never feel that comfort again, nor the warmth that'd surround baji like a fire. you have to pry the details out of him, beg for anything he’s willing to give. how did it happen. was it painless. did he suffer. did he cry. who started it.

he answers to the best of his ability through his own tears, explaining kazutora stabbed him first but baji delivered the final blow to himself, and those words leave you folding in on yourself even more.

“kazutora’s in jail now for that, will be for ten years.” 

it’s like each new addition to the story is you taking punch after punch, and chifuyu is glad that little bit of information is last on his list - unsure if you can take anymore hits. you’re practically gasping for air by the end of it, and with some effort, chifuyu is forcing you to sit up, forcing you to take a second and just breathe. 

he only goes home when the reality of it all has settled, leaving you hollow sitting on your bed. on numb legs, you stand and walk to your desk, ripping out a page from your notebook to hastily write. 

i hate you, kazutora. i want you and baji back and i hate you for taking him away from me. i hate you and i miss you and you’re the worst

the words blur together, ink bleeding into blobs as your tears fall onto the paper. you crumble up the page and throw it across the room with a sniff, unable to believe what you’ve written. 

july 05, 2015

your brows furrow at the sound of knocking on your door. chifuyu told you he’d be an hour late to your hangout, stuck organizing a shipment that came early he’d told you over the phone, but the sound of knocking again proves he’s a liar. 

“you don’t have to knock if i know you’re coming-” you start as you pull the door open, only to stop when it’s not chifuyu behind it. 

kazutora stares at you, and it’s still those same wide eyes as he takes you in. there’s no blonde left in his hair, you note dully, and he’s gotten taller. you’re practically frozen in place by his appearance on your doorstep. 

“hi.” he breathes out finally, offering a bouquet you hadn’t even realized he was holding, and his lip quivers when you hesitate to take it. 

you clear your throat, “when . . . when did you get out?” you look down at the flowers to avoid looking at him and god he could break down right here. the smell of your home comes off in waves, clawing at the deepest parts of him and settling with the reminder of childhood. he wants to bottle it up, breathe it in for the rest of his life to keep those memories forever. 

“few days ago. ‘fuyu picked me up.” 

you pull your lip between your teeth, a nasty habit he remembers when you were young, before you’re taking a step back so he can enter your home. he does so slowly, as if any sudden movement could startle you away from him. he’s almost certain it would. 

“was waiting on him,” you mumble out, finally looking at him, “‘fuyu.” you’re unsure why you clarify, but he nods nonetheless. 

“he told me.” 

silence fills the air again, neither of you wanting to break what fragility remains on your shoulders, until kazutora moves to dig through the bag he’s brought with him. you eye him warily, still very unsure of what to make of it all, when he pulls out a folder filled with stacks of papers. 

he offers it to you, and you take it with less hesitation than before, trading it with him for the bouquet so you can open it properly. 

august 30, 2003

dear kazutora, 

kazutora watches as your eyes widen while they dance across the paper, immediately beginning to flip through each of the worn pages as if the rest of the stack could be fake, before you meet his gaze. 

“are these . . ?” 

“i kept them all.” he explains softly, trying so so hard to read your expression. 

and when you throw yourself into his arms, almost crushing the flowers between the two of you, he’s stunned. 

he holds you when your knees buckle, and carefully eases the two of you to the ground. holds you when your tears stain his shirt, and holds you even tighter as apologies fall from his lips. for baji, for not caring enough, for not righting his wrong when he should’ve. for not writing you back. 

as he breathes you in, he realizes how familiar this feels, how familiar you are, and suddenly he’s back to being a stupid thirteen year old with an even stupider adoration for you. he’s scared he’s squeezing you too tight, but you’re holding him like he’s your last lifeline and it takes all of him not to do the same. 

“i don't want to be like baji and not tell you how much i missed you.” he whispers, and it has a small laugh leaving your lips. a sound he hasn’t heard in so fucking long, it’s all he want to hear for as long as he’s alive. 

“i forgive you,” you say softly, when the tears finally subside and your grip on one another lessens enough for you to be able to lean away and look at him, “forgive you for baji and not caring and not writing me back.” 

the remission is enough to have him fighting back his own tears, and when you brush a strand of hair from his face to cup his cheek softly, it breaks what little resolve he has left. then it’s you taking him back into your arms, holding him as gently as you can as the assurances pass your lips as something so sweet and soft and everything he has ever missed in the last twelve years sits cradled in his arms. 

there’s something so sickly sweet about it all that has chifuyu wishing he would’ve been a little more precarious while putting everything away at the shop - regrettably ruining the moment when he stumbles into your house with beers and yakisoba.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus

For those of you who don’t know, I decided to run the gauntlet of @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus, which is comprised of 9 units. I have completed four of the units (here is my queer cinema syllabus round up post with all the films I’ve watched and written about so far). It is time for me to make my way through Unit 5- Lesbians, which includes the following films: The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love (1995), Bound (1996), Water Lilies (2007) [Skipping for now until I can get access to it], Saving Face (2004), D.E.B.S. (2004), Set It Off (1996), The Handmaiden (2016), Carol (2015), Imagine Me and You (2005), Two of Us (2019), Rafiki (2018), and The Color Purple (1985).

Today I will be talking about

D.E.B.S. (2004) dir. Angela Robinson

[Run Time: 1:31, Language: English] [Content Warning: there is one use of the r word] Summary: Plaid-skirted schoolgirls are groomed by a secret government agency to become the newest members of the elite national-defense group, D.E.B.S.

Cast:  -Sara Foster as Amy -Jordana Brewster as Lucy Diamond -Devon Aoki as Dominique -Jill Ritche as Janet -Meagan Good as Max ___

This write up will not be very long because this movie is not working with substantial, in-depth, layered messaging. BUT HOLY SHIT IT WAS SO MUCH FUN. This is a shitty little cult classic that sees a paramilitary agent (who was recruited from some secret questions in the SATs) and a supervillain falling in love and running off into the sunset together. 

So, I’ve seen low budget films that have quite a lot to say and know it can be done, so I was curious about how in-depth this film might go into discussions of law enforcement, mostly because in the evil lair there is a sign that says The Only Good D.E.B. is a Dead D.E.B. But this is a light hearted comedy piece so though we do get Amy literally saying she’s a cop, there is not a whole lot of like anti-cop sentiment or anything in the film. 

The premise is a spy and a supervillian literally crash in to eachother, have some level of instant connection, the spy has her queer awakening and runs off with the supervillian, is rescued essentially mid coitus, and the supervillian is inspired to start returning all of the things she’d stolen over the years in an effort to get Amy to leave D.E.B.S. and just be in love with her. It’s riddled with hilarious sound effects, forcefields made of plaid, and a SECRET TUNNEL! 

What it does is show that the world’s most wanted supervillian is pretty chill, very gay, and has maybe been portrayed as more ruthless than she actually is (yes that is in fact Madam Super Villan dancing with her henchman in the gif above). What it does show is that little Miss Perfect Score on the secret spy test does not want to be a spy but felt obligated to do so because she was good at it. I did enjoy the repeated questioning of standardized testing, Lucy asking what the spy test tests for and Amy realizing that she doesn’t know and never bothered to ask yet that test was deciding her entire future. 

But again this was SO. MUCH. FUN. to watch and I would recommend it to many people even as just like a silly little wind down film if they were in need of a quick pick me up.

Also there was lots of gay kissing, which I feel is important to note. 

Favorite Moment

My favorite moment was Lucy breaking in to the D.E.B.S house to see Amy the first time. What an iconic piece of comedy: the plaid forcefield around the property that matches their school uniform, Lucy cutting a hole in the forcefield with what legitimately looks like a sonic screwdriver from Doctor Who, jumping over laser detectors on the grass that are also plaid, and climbing up the wall with those like hand-held suction cup things with the most hilarious and incredibly incorrect popping motion every time she sticks the suction cup to the wall. 

Favorite Quote 

“Yes, well, the poster child doesn’t know it yet but she’s into me.” 

I love when queer people recognize queer people, and appreciate that because Amy is young and was just getting out of a relationship with her boyfriend that she might not know her own sexuality yet or have a full understanding of what she is feeling. But Lucy Diamond is an established, adult, queer woman who definitely sees the way that Amy is acting around her and understands immediately what is happening. 

Score

10/10 

For this moment alone

THAT SAID. I do feel the need to justify this scoring. I tend to score things by what they put forth, so a show with campier premises and executions like this one would be scored almost exclusively by vibes. Things like The Miracle of Teddy Bear, for example, which takes itself incredibly seriously, has multiple layers of messaging, and incredibly realistic depictions of queerness, homophobia, and domestic violence is something I would score with a number of actual story telling factors in mind. 

This gets a 10 for vibes, I don’t think I had a single critical thought in the entire hour and a half watching it and I was having a fucking BLAST.

[wolfpants]

nightcall (drarry, 1058 words)

Thank you to @getawayfox for the amazing art for this little piece I wrote for kinkuary! Give her post some love here ❤️‍🔥 Rated: E / nsfw Tags: Unspeakable!Drarry, begging, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, FWB, colleagues to lovers, pining, light bdsm On a top secret Unspeakable misson, Harry calls Draco from a remote phone booth on the Isle of Skye. ao3 link here, or keep reading

❤️‍🔥🖤📞🏍🥀

“What are you looking at right now?”

“Castle ruins. The sea. The moon. Dark road.”

“Have you got somewhere to sleep?”

A pause.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Have you got somewhere to sleep?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got somewhere to sleep. Don’t worry.”

Draco’s breath crackles against Harry’s ear. 

If Harry closes his eyes—shuts off the road, the barren hills, the moonlight sparkling against the shore—he can pretend Draco’s right here with him. 

He can pretend Draco’s huffing gently into his ear, murmuring against his throat like he might if they were alone together in the same room.

“That’s all I do,” Draco whispers dryly. “Arsehole.”

They shouldn’t even be talking. It’s against code. They could lose their jobs. 

The Ministry doesn't know how to tap Muggle telephone boxes, but Draco and Harry know better than to talk about work outside of Level Nine. So Harry doesn’t ask Draco if he’s still working on those files and old tomes he keeps under deadly protection magic in The Manor. He doesn’t ask if he stayed in the office all night again and forgot to eat dinner. 

“Does my voice sound normal?” Draco asks when Harry doesn’t respond to the bait of his insult. 

“Your voice has never sounded normal.” 

Harry is curled over the telephone desk. He runs his finger over the edges of the BT directory. He pulls back the cover to read it.

THE PHONE BOOK: HIGHLANDS AND ISLANDS 2003/2004

Almost ten years out of date.

“Fuck you,” comes Draco’s predictably plummy-edged response.

“Fuck you,” Harry repeats, grinning. He shifts his weight from one hip to the other. His riding leathers, softened and moulded to his body like a second skin, crease and rasp gently. His helmet is by his feet, his bike outside on the gravel; headlight on, casting the winding road ahead in ghostly bleached light. Its engine gently purrs into the night, reminding him that they need to keep this catch up brief.

“No, really,” Draco says, dropping his voice back to a whisper. His breath puffs against the receiver.

“You’re smoking.” Harry leans against the glazed side of the box and drops his head back against the glass panes. 

“I’m outside, no one’s going to die,” Draco murmurs.

Harry closes his eyes again and pictures Draco standing on the lawn in Wiltshire. Mobile phone to ear, screen glowing against his face, cheeks pink from the cold. Surrounded by shadowed hedges and sculpted water features, smoke pluming from his lips, creeping up towards the starry sky. His hair is pulled into a knot on the back of his head. Or perhaps it’s loose, and the breeze is moving it around the sharp slopes of his cheeks.

“You look sexy when you smoke. You sound great. I miss you,” Harry says in three steady beats.

Draco won’t return the words. He never does. But Harry knows he feels them. 

That he misses them too. Whatever—they are.

Work partners. Friends. More than friends sometimes. Less than friends other times.

Another soft breath. “Are you alone?”

“I’m on the tip of Skye looking at the North Atlantic. I’m very alone. I can’t even remember the last time I saw a tree.”

“Then,” Draco huffs gently—an inhale, a sharp exhale, the sound of his shoes clicking against pavement. He’s walking through the hedge maze. “Fuck you.”

Harry licks his lips. “Yeah?” He cups himself over his leather trousers. Slides his thumb over the shifting head of his cock as it grows closer towards his hip.

Draco hums, deep and smooth. Harry tilts his hips up in a slow fuck against his fingers, heat spreading, sharp and singular, between his legs. “God I want you,” he rasps, closing his eyes. The flutter of pale hair. Draco’s lovely lips wrapping around the filter of his cigarette. The way he kisses, dirty and like he means it.

“You have to ask for it nicely first, Potter.” Another inhale. “You can’t just take what you want. Especially from me.”

Harry balances the phone between his shoulder and his ear and fumbles with the zip of his leathers. “Please,” he whispers. 

Draco hums again, louder this time, almost a moan but not quite. “Tell me what you want."

“I want you to sit on my face,” Harry says on a breath. His leathers are open as far as the zip will let him. He rucks up the t-shirt he wears underneath, enough to get into the waistband of his pants. His cock is already poking out the top, tip wet and swollen. He stares blearily at the beam of light outside, at the empty hills and sparkling water, fingers teasing himself in a slow, deliberate stroke.

Draco inhales sharply. “What was that?”

“I want you to sit on my face—please.” Harry licks his lips, circling his thumb over the wet head of his prick. “Want you to ride my mouth, my tongue. Take what you want from me. God, I want that so badly.”

“You like being suffocated, don’t you, you sick pup,” Draco whispers.

“Yeah,” Harry chokes out. “P—please.”

“And your tongue always feels so damn good. Maybe if you eat me good enough I could ride your cock. Would you like that?”

Harry groans, already so close. His leathers squeak and crease, and his elbow knocks against the glass behind him as he strokes his length up and down, balls drawing up tight.

“You’d have to stay still, though."

“Yes,” Harry breathes, picturing it now, like the countless times Draco has held him down—by the chest, the arms, the neck, sometimes—while he bounces up and down on his cock until they both come, sweaty and breathless.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“I want to come.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t come riding you,” Draco whispers.

“Draco…”

“Maybe I’d climb off you after you’ve spilled deep inside me, and we could switch. Maybe I could fuck the come out of you again, because you’re a dirty, needy little sl—”

Harry comes with a sharp, bitten off cry.

It spills down his fingers, splashes onto his t-shirt.

Draco chuckles. Harry hears him light another cigarette. “Good boy,” he croons.

“Fuck you,” Harry says with a breathless laugh, his head spinning. He gazes at the night sky through the foggy pane of glass above his head.

“Soon,” Draco whispers.

[hostilemuppet]

Saw the JD & Floyd post and was about to say “Maybe he should” but then it just made me sad. Like damn he cares about his family to the detriment of himself, what does that say about his relationship with Creek. I think I remember you writing something about Floyd realizing he’s genuinely fallen in love with him.

you want me to show how much thought ive put into tdau floyd? the funny cokehead with commitment issues? the guy who posts thirst traps out of spite? okay (keep in mind that most of this is just what *I* think and hasnt been cleared with alex, but when i write for floyd its genuinely what i consider in the back of my mind)

i think he was 13 y/o when he went out on his own (1999), began seeing the rest of the troll tree for himself, until he finally escaped on his own at around 15 (2001), a year before the entire tribe was evacuated (2002). he hitch hiked a bit and got to see a bunch of tribes but he only really got to see techno reef and volcano rock city, staying in vrc a lot longer (LONG before barb was in power and turned rocks view on pop from "they fucked up a really long time ago but were safe from them now" to "we need to colonise them back") and discovering a lot about himself in the process

he turned 18 (2004) and, as most ex-child stars do, immediately went IN on hard drugs and sex with strangers, as if thats the test for proving your adulthood. and he had a good time! he spent most of his life drugged to the gills and unable to look himself in the mirror the rare moments he was sober, but, yknow. details. then he got bored. and he went travelling again

at the age of 20 (2006) he left troll kingdom entirely. obviously he stayed CLEAR of bergen town (and silently prayed to whatever god pop trolls typically believe in that his family were safe and undigested). but he saw all sorts of places! places we havent seen yet, with species we havent seen yet, of extremely varying sizes! hell, he mightve met a species or two that are smaller than trolls! imagine that. but spending years travelling, it gets lonely. he never got to connect with anyone. hell, he never even had a real boyfriend! the most he had was that situationship he had that lasted 5 weeks before he got ghosted when that techno troll got back with his girlfriend. (its okay though, he channels his pain into his art, and that was one became his most popular song on bandcamp by a significant margin!)

at 27 years old (2013) he arrived in mount rageous. sure, they were huge, and he was terrified of being eaten, obviously. but they didnt want to eat him! they thought he was cute. and, he wont lie, he liked the attention. he became a novelty, that tiny little creature with his even tinier guitar, who apparently built up such a tolerance he can handle mount rageon drugs. imagine doing blow with stewert little. they loved him, as entertainment. he still didnt have anyone who loved him as a person, but at that point he was willing to settle.

when hes 36 (2023) he gets kidnapped by velvet & veneer, and of course no one thought to look for him. you wouldnt notice if the mouse in your house suddenly went missing. at most youd think someone you live with finally took care of it, and youd move on with your life.

the events of the movie happen, hes reunited with his siblings, he actually feels valued as a person again, AND to top it all off, those two months in the bottle did WONDERS for detoxing. next time he tries pop troll coke he actually feels a buzz! he never thought hed see the day!

brozone reunite, we see the early days of their career carry out in the au. floyd feels like hes on top of the world. hes got his family back, hes back in pop village (albeit, its a different pop village than he knew. hell, they used to all it troll village back then!) hes releasing actual music again, and not just busking for tips (its okay he didnt need much, he rented out a mouse hole for cheap). but he wants an actual connection. he wants a relationship. but hes never actually had that! hes never even felt respected by a potential partner! so he goes back to random hookups. and, yknow, its fun, he guesses. but he wants more

the first troll who seems to actually take interest in him as anything more than a hot piece of ass or "that guy from brozone" rocks his world. hes ashamed to admit that after knowing the guy for 3 hours he already thought about spending the rest of his life with him. he just wasnt used to being spoken to like a person by anyone other than immediate family members! its okay though, he couldnt scare him off, because he was being paid to be there, and after recording himself getting in floyds pants (the only way he knows how to show affection at this point) it was all over the internet

so, you know, obviously floyd wasnt doing great. hes gotten good at hiding his feelings (not like anyone really cares about them anyway) but he was clearly struggling. he did what he does best, and turned it into a joke, so maybe itd hurt a little less. he probably made it worse, but at least he was numb now. he goes back to hookups, deciding hell never have an actual boyfriend, hell never get married, and hes okay with that. well, hes clearly not, but its not like anyone ever asked, so he has to deal.

then he meets creek. and at this point hes not stupid. hes not that naive little kid anymore, and when he wakes up the next morning and realises his newest one night stand was that guy, the asshole, the one who everyone hates, he knows hes the butt of the joke, again. theres probably a camera, again. he leaves before creek wakes up.

but then he meets him again, a few days later. and creek says how much of a shame it is he never got his digits. and floyd doesnt know what to make of this. but he knows he shouldnt trust him. he heard everything riff said about him, everything BRANCH said about him. he knows every one of creeks crimes. but maybe he just wants to have some fun, yknow? everyones always fucking with him, maybe he wants to play around sometime. show the world hes not some little helpless doll.

what follows is about a year and a half of gay chicken on expert mode. creek pretends to love floyd. floyd pretends he doesnt know creeks pretending. floyd feels in control, almost. he gets comfortable. he refuses to believe its love, how could it be love? theyre awful to each other. but its, technically, his first real relationship. he tries not to think about it.

maybe encouraging creek to propose was a little more than seeing how far he can push him before he snaps. maybe he wanted to prove that hes worth it, even if the other guy wasnt. maybe he genuinely cried when he got angelinas egg, even if hed rather die than let creek see him express genuine emotions. he knows hes the sensitive one, but hes more than brozone. hes a person. a person that people dont ever seem to want to know.

then he realises. hes not the only one whos gotten comfortable. creek looks... not happy, exactly. but content. and floyd thinks thats terrifying. its too far, thats not how any of this was supposed to work. it was REVENGE. floyd was fucking with him, because creek was fucking with him first! now hes married, hes MARRIED, with KIDS, TWINS! THAT HE NAMED! and he loves them! and he loves creek! and creek loves him! hes gonna be sick. he cant do this. he cant be here. he lives in a mansion but its suffocating him. he leaves. he divorces creek.

hes miserable again. jd doesnt notice bc hes "the sensitive one", and his other brothers dont know how to bring it up without making it worse. branch is the only one who asks how hes holding up, but he just says hes fine, hell bounce back. he doesnt bounce back

when he meets creek again, he wants to cry. he wants to get on his hands and knees and beg him to take him back, but he has a LITTLE bit of self respect left. when he finds out creek missed him too its more than he can take. when they get drunk, and floyd forces jd to re-marry them, floyd actually feels like a person. a broken person, who healed in a creek-shaped mould, but a person nonetheless. and maybe thats all he can ask for

[buckybarnesss]

Hi! Where is it said that Derek wasn't in BH for his senior year? I've seen this a lot, but I can't remember it from canon. Love your posts in the Sterek tag, good discussions!

oh my sweet summer child. teen wolf never tells you these things explicitly so on this episode of heather versus the teen wolf timeline we'll be discussing derek hale's age.

derek was very much 16 when the fire happened. i do not understand how people think he was older.

the parallels between derek and scott are very, very obvious and pointed. one of the big reasons scott and derek clash in season 1 is because derek has a difficult time seeing scott as scott. he projects a lot of his anger at his younger self onto scott.

like code breaker pretty much confirms this:

"you're not in love, scott! you're sixteen years old! you're a child!"

you just know derek wishes he could go back to tell his 16 year old self this. kate and her actions weren't his fault but derek cannot let go of the shame and guilt at this point. he isn't there yet.

i think another thing that makes it obvious derek was 16 when kate got her claws into him is bringing ian nelson back for s4.

visionary is again heavy on the parallels between scott and derek. we understand that derek is a child here. he's a high schooler. so kate de-aging derek to the age where he'd trust her? the implications couldn't be more clear. the audience is meant to associate ian nelson with high schooler derek.

in magic bullet derek tells scott: "six years ago, my sister and i were at school, and our house caught fire."

wolf moon takes place in janurary 2011 so six years previous puts the hale fire occurring in roughly late 2004/early 2005. i personally go with early 2005.

stiles's obsession with the hale fire/derek also makes sense if it occurred after claudia's death claudia died in early 2004 shortly before his 9th birthday. this would've been an event that captured his attention for multiple reasons.

derek's quote from magic bullet also informs us laura was still in school. some argue he means college or something which i don't believe. derek couldn't have graduated before laura.

i think laura was a senior and derek was still a sophomore and that this took place only months after paige's death and his grief was taken advantage of by kate.

laura didn't know what happened or who was after them. she took her little brother and fucking ran as far away as possible only returning 3 months before wolf moon to investigate.

i think kate was sent to beacon hills by gerard to look into paige's suspicious death because he had been in town when it happened along with the three other packs.

remember he attacked duecalion and was clearly aware of kali and ennis too. he knows they killed one of ennis's pack members brutally and being the smart, devious man he is might have put the math together like peter did. teenagers are perfect candidates for the bite and ennis had just lost one and than an otherwise healthy girl dies in suspicious animal attack at the same time a bunch of alphas were the same place?

remember what kate says in code breaker when confronted by chris?

"i did what I was told to do."

kate was following gerard's orders.

in conclusion though, derek didn't graduate from beacon hills high school as he and laura had left by then so those aren't his initials.

stiles is just sentimental and missing derek so he gets gooey at seeing the same initials.

[letoasai]

No one remembers Anime Spiral

What do kids even do on the internet? I'm genuinely asking. Everything revolves around social media and that's fine but what do they do. Are their cool things they can do anymore?

There used to be websites and you would just wander the internet on the family computer. Newgrounds. Gaia Online. Neopets. Yahoo Games. Quizzila. Live Journal... I'm not saying they were all great but they were something to do and... no i'll commit, they were great. I wasn't worried about posting pictures of myself when i was busy watching a flash animation of Dragonball Z that someone put painstaking hours into.

A lot of younger kids and teens don't know how to download something and save it to a particular folder on their computer because they've never used a computer. Meanwhile we were somehow... coding our Myspace pages to have a particular background. When did we acquire that knowledge?

In 2004/2005 i went looking for Inuyasha pictures, as one did, and i stumbled upon a site of people posting fanfiction? Sign me up... Anime Spiral was the wild west of chaos fanfic writers. People would make banners for their work that would sit in their summary sections. God help you, but those seizure inducing flashing colors were going to get your attention.

People would write anything, stories, poems, lyrics. People would post art and open commissions for people to ask for things in the comments, and the OP would just do it... There were frantic collaborations. Some were really good. Some were really bad.

There were chaotic originally stories with random anime characters thrown in for fun because who was going to tell them they couldn't? Some people just ranted to anime characters and i will always remember Ask Sesshomaru where you'd ask Sesshomaru a question in the comments and the next chapter he would answer every.single.question. The fact that it was probably a 16 year old girl writing that just didn't matter.

Some people just posted picture of anime characters. They did all the internet searches so you didn't have to! They were harder to find then.

The comment/response section to this day... was the best format i've seen on a fanfic site (imo). It was so easy. I miss it! I miss going to my word processing class and pulling up that site and chatting with people in the freaking comments of whatever...terrible story i'd posted at the time. I was probably so proud of it then but yikes...

The notification system was good and it was easy to talk to people without it feeling intrusive.

Maybe Anime Spiral was Tumblr before Tumblr.

I met two strangers on Anime Spiral a week apart. Internet dangers weren't as obvious then as they seem now. Those two strangers became two of my best friends. It's been nearly twenty years and they are still so prevalent in my life.

I met my best friend on that site. That seems so impossible to me now. We never would have met otherwise and i can't imagine my life without them. We were so upset when Anime Spiral went down. We missed the ugly green and mustard yellow template to this day.

It wasn't a great site, it had it's problems... It had a lot of problems but at the same time, it was a great site. It's hard to find people who even remember Anime Spiral anymore. Going to FF .net or Fiction Press afterwards felt like... a downgrade somehow. The systems overly complicated and it lacked...something.

I do enjoy the hell out of AO3, it actually checks all the boxes for a great writing site, but i'll always remember the chaotic nostalgia of Anime Spiral.

What do kids do on the internet now? Is it safe? Is it just selfies, gossip, and bullying? Do you have a little dragon you can take care of? Neopets could take up a lot of their attention. I don't think 2024 Neopets is the same as 2005 Neopets and that's a shame.

I have no idea. I feel old.

[darklinaforever]

Hey, I just want you to know that someone sent me this shit. I don't know what this person is talking about, but just know that some offended kid is clearly bored and spreading such nonsense. Because yes, it sounds like nonsense and anyone familiar with similar procedures knows this. Especially since it was sent to me for some reason, lol.

Thank you for letting me know about this and supporting me ! Besides, it will be sad to no longer have you among our regular accounts talking about HOTD / FIRE AND BLOOD, I will miss you a lot in that regard, it was always great to read your answers ! 🥰

Otherwise, other than that, to get back to this damn message... I guess this is the perfect time to tell the whole story ?

Basically everything starting with the fact that I didn't know (and still don't know) how to take the gender change from Michael (a male character who has existed since 2004 and whom I have personally loved for several years already) to Michaela Stirling and that I was hoping that Sophie Beckett's character wouldn't undergo that kind of change no. more in the future, as many people were hoping to see her become a man on screen (and thank god that apparently won't happen) for a romance with Benedict. This kind of opinion has caused me to be insulted as a homophobe and queerphobe in general.

Why is this important when we are talking about a story of plagiarism ? You will understand.

The fact is that I am not homophobic or queerphobic. Those who follow me have already seen me posting on queer community posts and talking about my frustration with queerbaiting. Not only that but also know that I am a bi woman. (And contrary to what the antis say, no that's not a lie to be able to better spread my anti-LGBT remarks, which I have never had !)

As for this plagiarism thing, it turns out that someone (apparently named Grace, so we'll call her that now) accused me of plagiarizing her post that I liked, my own post having been post a few hours later after her own post :

Except I'm sorry, I didn't plagiarize anything at all.

Yes I liked her post, but I also liked other posts with almost the same arguments. By the time I wrote my post, his had disappeared from my memory, drowned in tons of others that I had liked.

This person basically acted as if I had written my post while looking at theirs, which is, as you will have gathered, not true.

The fact is that it is logical that the arguments are found when we talk about canonical events that happened in a show that we have all seen and a book that we have all read for the most part. We literally state canon things in these two formats. Logically it looks similar.

Also, officially, the reason I wrote this post is because, like I said, I saw a conversation talking about the topic : Will the plot be the same despite the gender change by Michael ? Essentially, that make me write my little post was this.

So Grace came in the comments and reblogs on this post to accuse me of plagiarism and I basically told her that well no, without being particularly mean or rude in my opinion, and only one person that I know of came to take my defense in comment @theweeklydiscourse and once again, she was polite and not mean. If you don't believe me, here's the conversation in the comments section :

Then, this person decided to publish a post asking for a second opinion / others opinions, to confirm whether or not I had plagiarized her.

I wasn't active at the time when she had to do it, and when I went there (since she had essentially tagged my name, obviously I had gotten the notification) she had blocked the comments and reblogged on her post.

Then later her account could no longer be found. I thought she had blocked me.

And that's when I received the news in anonymous that she was in the hospital because she hurt herself, because I apparently had harassed her, had encouraged my friends to also do this, that she would have received insults and death threats in comments and also private messages, etc.

And if all this (the party where she received hateful comments and private messages up to death threats) is true (because I remind you that we do not have proof that this is the case !) I have absolutely nothing to do with it.

Maybe yes, it's possible that Grace received hate messages from my community, or not from my community for that matter, because in the end we don't know since she deleted everything. But the fact is, whatever was in those comments, I know absolutely nothing about it.

I repeat I did not harass this girl or encourage anyone to do so !

Having myself been the victim of harassment almost throughout my schooling and having also had problems on tumblr, I can assure you that I will never encourage anyone to harass !

And the fact is that now I receive tons of hate messages, accusing me of plagiarizing people in a general way, of being anti LGBT, of pretending to be Bi to spread my LGBT hatred in tumblr. To advocate pedophilia (because I like Sareth and Sessrin I guess ?) incest, (because I like Daemyra and Borgiacest I guess ? In addition to writing a story myself with an incestuous romance between brother and sister in a fantasy world ?) abuse of all kinds, etc. (We really need to teach these people that liking things in fiction has nothing to do with real life...) That me and my community are disgusting. That I harass many people and encourage my followers to do so. That I have no life. That I am trashy, disturbing, etc.

Not to mention that the friend of this so-called Grace herself accuses me of all these things. Even going as to say that I am heartless ! I still remind you that overall this is what I said :

How the hell does that make me heartless ?

And all this hatred, who showed up after the first message from this so-called friend of Grace, obviously coming from pompous moral superiority, literally comes from people who also proudly claim that they created a discord account on me to spit on me. (And this apparently comes from Rhaenicent stans and therefore from a community linked to HOTD...)

Do you realize the paradox and the hypocrisy of all that ?

And obviously, these same people are actually also going to insult Grace for being "an anti-LGBT person". Because if I "plagiarized" it since I am accused of making anti-LGBT remarks, according to them it would be obvious that the person I plagiarized is also anti-LGBT.

What is false, her message which was also the only one that she had published on her account I specify, did not contain any mention of the LGBT community but in fact speaks, like mine, generally of the fact that the basis of the relationship Fran x John x Michael was different from the book, and indeed, it wasn't the same thing.

(Something that has once again been noted a lot on the networks in general. Hell, even my friend who doesn't have the networks deduced the same things !)

So not only am I accused of homophobia but also this person, whose drama these weirdos are using (if it's true once again) to try to take me down more than they already do. They say she's pathetic, and who knows maybe she'll kill herself, lol ! Essentially, their words, not mine :

Essentially, this is all just an excuse for the antis to basically, well, harass me again. Because at this point, that's what's happening. Did you still see what @nrilliree received ? It’s the fucking upside down world after all. (Besides, that makes me laugh... I'm not allowed to like several fandoms ? It's a crime to like several things on tumblr now ? What a joke...)

Why do trolls like me so much ? I don't understand ! 😂

The point is, I'm going to repeat what I've already said :

It's not very complicated to understand anyway ?

I wanted to give my overall version of the facts. Now you do what you want with it. The fact is that I know very well what is going on and I have a clear conscience. In any case, I thank everyone who supports me. You are adorable and I all love you very much !!!

[is-this-fandom-who-knows]

Okay so I got several notes on my "Things Jason Todd should freak out over that happened while he was dead/in a coma/braindead/gone" post about using it in a timeline EXCEPT I listed those events off the top of my head and didn't actually look up when they happened relative to each other so I know that they weren't in chronological order so I am relisting each of those plus a few new ones in chronological order with issue dates here if anyone actually does want a timeline. If the comment references events that take place some time apart then I listed by whichever happened first. Check the issues listed to figure out when the second event happened. I may edit this post later.

"There's another Mister Miracle? And he's human?" (Mister Miracle Vol.2 #22, December 1990)

"Deathstroke killed Jericho? Damn and I thought Bruce was a shitty dad -" (New Titans #83, February 1992)

"Danny is dead?" (New Titans #84, March 1992)

"Donna had a kid? One that was supposed to grow up to be so evil that an entire group of Titans from the future came back in time to stop him from being born? Kid definitely got it from his dad." (Deathstroke the Terminator #14, September 1992) (Team Titans #1, September 1992)

"Apparently Miriam Delgado is a name I need to add to my list :)" (New Titans #90, September 1992)

"Since when did Deathstroke have a daughter and why is she missing an eye too?" (Deathstroke the Terminator #15, October 1992) (Teen Titans Vol.3 #12, August 2004)

"SUPERMAN DIED HOW THE FUCK DID THIS DOOMSDAY GUY JUST PUNCH SUPERMAN TO DEATH HE'S SUPERMAN." (Superman Vol.2 #75, November 1992)

"Okay what happened to Qurac? Entire countries do not just disappear." (Deathstroke the Terminator #19, February 1993)

"What the fuck do you mean Roy Harper's baby momma nuked it???!! Where did she even get nukes??!!" (Deathstroke the Terminator #19, February 1993)

"Also apparently Superman has a clone now???" (Adventures of Superman #500, June 1993)

"Who the fuck is this Bane guy and how did he break B's back." (Batman Vol.1 #497, July 1993)

"COAST CITY DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE - WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE?" (Green Lantern Vol.3 #46, October 1993)

"Hal Jordan became evil?" (Green Lantern Vol.3 #49, February 1994)

"Are the Green Lantern Corps around rn?" (Green Lantern Vol.3 #50, March 1994)

"What the fuck is the speed force." (The Flash Vol.2 #91, June 1994)

"Iris Allen is alive and time travelled here from the future with her grandson apparently??" (The Flash Vol.2 #92, July 1994)

"Dick and Kory broke up???" (New Titans #114, September 1994)

"Is- is Guy Gardner human, or -" (Guy Gardner: Warrior #0, October 1994)

"There's a Green Arrow 2.0 and he's the first one's kid? Poor guy." (Green Arrow Vol.2 #91, November 1994) (Green Arrow Vol.2 #96, April 1995)

"So Green Arrow also died and came back?" (Green Arrow Vol.2 #101, October 1995) (Green Arrow Vol.3 #1 April 2001)

"Wait who the fuck is Neron." (Underworld Unleashed #1, November 1995)

"Blockbuster is smart now?" (Underworld Unleashed #1, November 1995) (Impulse #8, November 1995)

"You're telling me that B had the opportunity to bring me back to life - back to him and he didn't fucking take it?! Yes I know that I was already alive and it was like literally a deal with the devil it's the principle of the matter!" (Underworld Unleashed #2, December 1995)

"Apparently while I was gone Gotham was targeted by a deadly plague, got hit by a giant earthquake, and basically got kicked out of the US?" (Batman: Shadow of the Bat #48, March 1996) (Batman: Shadow of the Bat #73, April 1998) (Detective Comics #729, February 1999)

"Dick moved to Bludhaven and became a fucking cop?" (Nightwing Vol.2 #1 October 1996)(Nightwing Vol.2 #41 March 2000)

"What the fuck do you mean the sun almost got eaten." (The Final Night, November 1996)

"Look is Hal Jordan alive or not." (The Final Night#4, November 1996) (Day of Judgement #5, November 1999) (Green Lantern: Rebirth #4, March 2005)

"So... How old is Aqualad now? Why was he hanging out with Aquaman's dad? Why did that make him older?" (Tempest, November 1996 - February 1997)

"Oh, Aqualad's going by Tempest now? Good to know." (Tempest #2, December 1996)

"Supes got married? Congrats to him but I've met Lois Lane and I know she could do better." (Superman: The Wedding Album, December 1996)

"Martians almost took over the world?" (JLA Vol.1 #1, January 1997)

"Wait Donna's husband and baby died? Damn." (Wonder Woman Vol.2 #121, May 1997)

"The entire population had to run so that the Flash could siphon the energy to run a fucked up Hunger Games/Olympics crossover race set by a pair intergalctic alien gods so they wouldn't Alderaan earth?" (The Flash Vol.2 #138, June 1998)

"Someone actually decided to date the Joker? Is she insane? Don't answer that." (Batman: Harley Quinn, October 1999)

"Aqualad - sorry, Tempest- had a kid too?!" (Aquaman Vol.5 #63, January 2000)

"Flash got married too? IDK who Linda is but congrats to them both too I guess." (The Flash Vol.2 #159, April 2000)

"YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT BASICALLY EVERY HERO GOT THEIR AGE TEMPORARILY FUCKED UP? I NEED PICS ASAP." (Young Justice: Sins of Youth, May 2000)

"The JLA kicked B out and almost fell apart because they found out he had made contingency plans to take em all out? You're telling me they were actually surprised? Old man's paranoid as fuck of course he has contingency plans." (JLA Vol.1 #46, October 2000)

"What's all this about playing baseball to save the earth?" (Young Justice Vol.1 #27, January 2001)

"B and Supes told the rest the JLA their secret identities? I didn't think they had it in them." (JLA Vol.1 #50, February 2001)

"Commish got shot? By who? Are they still alive? I can fix it if they are he's the only cop worth a damn in this city." (Batman Vol.1 #587, March 2001)

"Y'all went to war with a guy trying to literally hollow out the universe? damn." (JLA: Our Worlds at War, September 2001)

"So Dickie finally got adopted." (Batman: Gotham Knights #21, November 2001)

"B got arrested and put on trial for murder? Imao." (Batman: the 10-cent Adventure, March 2002)

"WAIT HE WAS FRAMED BY BATGIRL 3.0'S DAD?" (Batman Vol.1 #605, September 2002)

"I'm sorry, Pretender's team led a bunch of other heroes, most of whom I've never even heard of, to invade the sovereign nation of Zandia? Like, I know it's just a nation for criminals to hang out and avoid justice, but still." (Young Justice Vol.1 #50, December 2002)

"One of the Pretender's friends was a ghost that was actually an interdimensional portal to Apokolips?" (Young Justice Vol.1 #55, May 2003)

"DONNA DIED AND CAME BACK TOO?" (Titans/Young Justice: Graduation Day #3, August 2003) (DC Special: The Return of Donna Troy, August 2005)

"Somehow the entire population got mind wiped and no longer remembers that Wally West is the Flash or that his identity used to be public. hm." (The Flash Vol.2 #200, September 2003)

"Jericho is alive???" (Teen Titans Vol.3 #2, October 2003)

"Is Jericho evil or not?" (Teen Titans Vol.3 #2, October 2003) (Teen Titans Vol.3 #12, August 2004)

"Raven is also alive and a teenager now???" (Teen Titans Vol.3 #3, November 2003)

"Blockbuster murdere- Catalina Flores? Ah, another name to add to my list, I see." (Nightwing Vol 2 #93, July 2004)

"The Atom's ex killed the Elongated Man's wife and hired Captain Boomerang to end the Pretender's dad? Damn." (Identity Crisis #1, August 2004) (Identity Crisis #5, December 2004)

"Why did Gotham become a war zone- oh it was one of B's contingencies? That tracks. Wait another Robin died? I don't care if she wasn't actually using the name Robin when she died what the fuck B?" (Detective Comics Vol.1 #797, October 2004) (Batman Vol.1 #633, December 2004)

"You were actually on to something working with this Orpheus guy but of course he got murdered too-" (Batman: Gotham Knights #57, November 2004)

"How many Green Lanterns are there anyways?" (Green Lantern: Rebirth, December 2004-May 2005)

"So Guy Gardener is human now, right?" (Green Lantern: Rebirth #2, January 2005)

"EDDIE IS A SUPERHERO NOW?" (Teen Titans Vol.3 #42, February 2007) [yeah I messed up on this one, Eddie didn't get his powers until post-Infinite Crisis]

Here's the link to the original post btw:

[themculibrary]

Horror Masterlist 2

part one

Avengers Unsolved (ao3) - Livesinbooks T, 5k

Summary: Peter drags the Avengers to a haunted house

Broken Shadows (ao3) - dixiehellcat pre-stephen/tony G, 5k

Summary: The new Sorcerer Supreme and his right hand move into their new Sanctum only to find it might already be occupied…by the ghost of one Anthony Stark.

Cyclical (ao3) - Pandagirl23 bucky/tony M, 24k

Summary: An old estate was bought. Under the weeds are tunnels and the halls. Light shall be shed on a wrong that was done.

despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) (ao3) - praximeter (Zimario) steve/bucky E, 71k

Summary: “They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

every time it rains (you're here in my head) (ao3) - Writer_Lethogica sam/bucky M, 9k

Summary: Sam Wilson shouldn't have gone into that house.

ghosts are real (ao3) - purplecatsweater T, 652

Summary: The locals had claimed this place was haunted. That people went missing if they went inside; they went in, they didn't come back out.

Sam had said, "There's no such thing as ghosts, man," and Bucky had said, "Uh, yeah, there is."

Haunted (ao3) - ElisabethMonroe bucky/steve/sam M, 12k

Summary: Seeking refuge in a storm after a fight, Sam, Steve, and Bucky get more than they bargained for from a haunted house

Housing Crisis (ao3) - schroedingersfox loki/tony T, 2k

Summary: There was no “staring straight ahead and pretending it's not there”-getting out of this one, not when a ghost was looking right at him and he was staring right back.

God, he had just finished up the last of the bank paperwork. Congratulations, Tony, you’ve signed a thirty-year mortgage for a goddamn haunted house.

If These Walls Could Talk (ao3) - Pokimoko layla/marc T, 22k

Summary: Ever since finding out about Jake and his covert dealings with Khonshu, Marc has been doing everything he can to stay in control, and to prove there is more to justice than violence and vengeance. He sets up the Midnight Mission in the hopes of accomplishing this, but it hasn't been working as well as he'd hoped. That is until he is tasked with finding a missing person who was last seen disappearing through a mysterious, black door...

Into That Good Night (ao3) - Nonymos steve/bucky E, 73k

Summary: Steve Rogers has lived for entirely too long—long enough to see the world's end. The heroes are gone, and the Earth is pushing what's left of mankind towards the exit.

But when a makeshift team rises from the ashes, when a mysterious presence all but drags Steve there, he begins to think there may be hope yet. As they shoot for the stars one last time, Steve will get proof yet again that the future is nothing if not an echo of the past.

light my heart and light my shadow (ao3) - thelilacfield wanda/vision M, 5k

Summary: “And what happened the night you told me about? Why do you want to go back to Ravenpoint?”

“On November 14th 2004, when I was ten years old, I woke up alone in my room. My entire family were dead. The police closed the case less than six months later. Their only witness was a traumatised child, and there seemed to be no evidence of foul play.”

“And what questions do we hope to answer in Ravenpoint?”

“I want to find out what happened to my family. What monsters come out after dark.”

Revenant (ao3) - stele3 steve/bucky M, 73k

Summary: Post-movie AU in which Bucky didn’t just leave Steve on a river bank...he took him.

Spiderland (ao3) - StormCity kate/peter, gwen/peter T, 3k

Summary: Peter, a former college student, along with a scarce few survivors navigate through the wasteland the planet has become. A place where the people they knew are either forever gone, or have turned into murderous and hungry zombie-like beings called “Crawlers”. A place where all nightmares come true. A place they now call “Spiderland”. (One-Shot)

The Devouring Storm (ao3) - blondsak, mysterycyclone mj/peter, ned/flash T, 98k

Summary: The city is unusually quiet tonight. Oh, sure, he’s had his usual crimes: muggings, drug deals, a few break ins. Nothing special. Nothing that could possibly explain the thread of tension winding through him, slowly tightening like a noose. Ever since last night, his spidey senses have set off at a low, maddening hum, distracting him, needling him, filling him with a restless energy that’s robbed him of restful sleep. He’s used to dealing with his super powered anxiety, but this feels different somehow. More ominous. And what’s weirder is that other people seem to be a little more wary, a little more on edge than usual, too. Cops, firefighters, even one of the guys Peter caught snatching a purse commented on it from his web cocoon on a street light.

“You feel that, Spidey? The city’s all weird tonight. Feels like the whole place is holding its breath, waiting on something.”

The End of All Things (ao3) - cakeisnotpie clint/phil, jane/thor, minor steve/sam/bucky M, 17k

Summary: Clint Barton could always see ghosts and monsters, and now that he's a ghost hunter with his partner Natasha, he's about to come across a house that is well and truly haunted, one that seems to be waiting for him.

A seriously spooky bit of horror completely with monsters and ghosts and creepy-crawlies and nightmares just in time for All Hallow's Eve. Happy Samhain, ya'll.

The Horrors That I Promised You I'd Bring (ao3) - Tsimmes T, 2k

SummaryL Perhaps, in retrospect, using Zemo's derelict vacation home in the woods as a safehouse was a bad idea.

The Truth About Ghosts (ao3) - LadySilvertongue, ThePartyPrince jane/thor, frigga/odin, loki/tony M, 52k

Summary: After the traumatic and almost mysterious death of their mother, the three children of Odin are sent to live with Heimdall, a family friend. Each of them learns to cope with their terrible loss and grief in different ways, some more healthy than others. As they grow up and away from one another, the memories of their childhood start to fade and change. When Odin dies, also traumatically and almost mysteriously, the siblings are forced back together again, to try to make sense of their family history and the madness that seems to plague them. But what happens when memories are fickle and malleable? What happens when the thing one fears the most... is oneself?

The Weeping Siren (ao3) - GalaxyThreads T, 90k

Summary: When Vanaheim requests aid dealing with a creature dubbed the Weeping Siren, Sif had never thought Loki capable of doing something so recklessly selfless. Then again, this whole fiasco has made her acutely aware of something: she and the Warriors Three never really knew Loki. (AKA the Warriors Three and Sif realize they were wrong about Loki) gen, Pre-Thor