#I've been getting a lot of unwanted comments and just

[steddiealltheway]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3

Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.

Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.

He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.

And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.

Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.

Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.

The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.

There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”

“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”

“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”

The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.

“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.

Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.

"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.

El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.

Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.

Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...

"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."

Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.

"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."

Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.

"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.

"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.

Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."

Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"

Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."

"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."

"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."

Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.

"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"

Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."

"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.

Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."

Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."

Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.

"Like who?"

Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."

"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.

"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.

Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"

Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."

Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."

"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."

"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"

Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.

Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.

With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."

"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.

Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve stares at the little list in the note.

One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa

Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"

Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.

Steve's heart pounds in his chest.

Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.

"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.

Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"

Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."

The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"

"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.

"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.

"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."

"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.

Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."

"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.

Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.

Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"

Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"

Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."

Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"

Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."

"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."

Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.

Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.

When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"

Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.

"So, where are the shoes?"

"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.

Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"

Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.

"Why?" Eddie asks.

Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."

Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.

Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.

Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.

Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."

It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.

"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."

Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."

Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.

"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."

Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."

"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"

Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."

Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."

"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."

Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."

Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."

Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."

Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."

Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."

They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.

The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.

"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.

Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"

"Hell yes," Eddie replies.

They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.

Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."

"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.

And it really is a merry Christmas.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #merry christmas #steddie christmas

[grandline-fics]

hi! i just read all of your oneshots and they’re perfect, i’m in love. hoping it is okay to request something with zoro having a soft spot towards reader? he doesn’t even realize it a first, but since reader is somehow quiet and gentle (not weak though!) he starts to take note of small things to do/don’t do or notice their actions (ex: taking care o the crew) a lot more than others. thank you. <3

DESCRIPTION: Who knew you were Zoro’s soft spot? Apparently both of you are the last to know 

WARNINGS: none, just pure fluff

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 856

A/N:  Thank you for your kind words and for this request! I hope it's to your liking. I've been feeling a little under the weather these past couple of days so some fluff was needed <3

MASTERLIST

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

It’s tiny things; little, practically meaningless things that are so easy to miss but they’re there. When you first joined the crew, your presence fell into the likes of his and Robin’s; strong but relatively quiet and easily looked passed if you wanted. You didn’t see the point in wasting energy needlessly and knew the value in waiting until letting yourself be known. Zoro unknowingly enjoyed that kind of calm you naturally brought and found himself gravitating towards it because it seemed even when he was in his own space you were still in his eye-line. In the beginning he found it a little strange that it kept happening, he knew you weren’t following him. Hell most of the times you were on the other side of the ship or talking with someone else so he cleared it as coincidence and thought nothing of it. As time went on, there was a lot he was putting down to mere coincidence. 

When you were all exploring new islands it was purely happenstance that you two walked side by side. Neither of you were the type to bound about and race ahead without a cause for urgency. He found he didn’t get lost as easily when you were close. You always seemed to know the way to go. On one trip Brook had commented to Zoro how lucky he had been that you were there to talk to him at the right moment otherwise he would have kept walking towards a path that would have taken him towards a ravine. Because of your voice suddenly pulling him into conversation he’d kept the right track and avoided possibly injuring himself and getting a lecture from the others. Lucky right?

It was also luck of the draw that when eating or drinking off the ship, Zoro was sat at the table in such a way that his back blocked you mostly from view from any unwanted stares. It was never in a subconscious way to keep you from interacting with others but it was like another sense he had that he was able to tell when you just wanted to sit with the crew and enjoy your meal. It seemed to go both ways too in that regard. If women tried to approach and flirt with him you effortlessly had a way of making a joke to dissuade them and steer them in Sanji’s direction. Was any of it done out of jealousy, possessiveness of the other’s attention, or an overwhelming need to protect? Not in the least, it was just doing what needed to be done to help out a friend and fellow crew-mate.

On the Sunny it’s no different. It’s not even a second thought, his body just reacts without thinking. In the early, barely waking hours when he’s finished his night watch and is about to grab a quick snack before training he always pulls out a specific mug from the cabinet and sets it on the counter. It’s never for him and like clockwork you appear just as he’s finished drinking a glass of water. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and stifling a small yawn you always offer him a small smile and greeting that is returned. You both pass each other, your only motivation is caffeine to see you through the last of the watch before everyone else is awake while he goes to the crow’s nest to train. 

After all this time it’s never occurred to you to question why your mug is waiting for you when you rise. You don’t know why but it’s something that immediately makes your morning a little bit brighter. It’s also routine now that an hour or so after breakfast, you and Zoro both nap; him to rest between his training sessions and you to grab another couple hours after your night watch. Nami occasionally glances up from her charts to shake her head at your sleeping forms. Robin finds it adorable while Brook chuckles, nostalgic over youth and love’s first stages. 

“Jeez they’re both so clueless.” Sanji grumbles, he’s accepted long ago that he doesn’t have a chance with you but is so infuriated that nothing has actually happened. He lost you to the swordsman who hasn’t even thought to make a move. Usopp grins and watches as you stir slightly in your sleep which in turn makes Zoro react before his body relaxes again. Currently he’s lying on his back with one hand tucked behind his head. While the other that’s draped over his chest, his fingers almost touching yours that are curled by your head as you sleep on your side. 

From his spot on Sunny’s head, Luffy grins. “I don’t know. I think they do know, in their own way.” It’s the little, insignificant things that you both do for each other that are easy to miss and while a lot of little things add up into something bigger, none of it compares to the way that you and Zoro unknowingly look at each other at any given chance. Because that is something so big that no one else can ignore. 

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x you #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece fic #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece fluff #one piece requests

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 19, Unfriended - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, yelling, mentions of violence against women.

Word Count: 1.9k

Previously On...: You showed Nat and Wanda the texts. They were as bad as you thought.

A/N: You guys sure know how to make me give you whatever you want with all your flattery! I am WEAK. Keep it coming ;) Also, this scene is the very first one that came into my head during the creation of this fic, one of the first I wrote for it. It had to be redone a lot as the story changed, but I like to think I kept the beats and emotions the same as I first intended to be.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

Once inside the conference room, your friends made sure to sit you between the two of them, so that Bucky couldn't park himself next to you. Unfortunately, there wasn't much they could do to keep him from taking the seat across from you.

"Hey," he said as he sat down, "I've been trying to call you; thought we could go get some lunch before returning to our previously scheduled activities. Where've you been?" You acted as though you hadn't heard him, pretending you were extremely interested in something on your phone. It didn't escape your notice, however, when Jade entered the room and sat down in the seat next to him, Bucky instinctively shifted his seat away from her slightly. She glanced between the two of you, a smug smile playing across her lips.

"Bucky," she greeted. "How's things?"

"Carthage," he huffed in response. You made the mistake of catching his eye for a brief second, and he offered you a tentative smile before you immediately hardened your expression and turned away.

Nat jotted down a sentence in her notebook and slid the paper over to you. Your puppy looks like you just kicked him in the face and he can't figure out why.

You suppressed a snicker and wrote back I can't reward a mongrel for indiscriminately humping bitches, can I? You quickly worked to scribble over your words as Natasha positively cackled at you, drawing everyone's attention.

"You alright there, Nat?" Tony asked as he entered the room, moving toward the front of the space and getting ready to begin the meeting. Nat coughed and took a sip from her water bottle.

"Just peachy, Tony," she answered, stifling a smile. "Just peachy."

"Okay, good. Let's get this started, then." He opened up his tablet and flicked a projection over the table. It was a series of photographs of about two dozen or so young women, all looking to be in their late teens to early thirties. "These women," Tony began, "have all been reported missing from the vicinity of Atlantic City over the last eighteen months. They've all got a history of either drugs, prostitution, or both, so the local police aren't interested in wasting valuable resources tracking them down. Fortunately for them, my resources are endless." He gave a sad smile, then with another flick of his wrist, brought up a three-dimensional schematic of a squat building. "This is called the Wiggle Room. It's a Russian-owned club where at least half of the missing girls were dancers at some point in the last three years."

"You're thinking trafficking," you spoke up. It wasn't a question. You knew the signs too well, after all. Tony nodded.

"That's horrible," said Jade "but, I mean, we're the Avengers. Isn't trafficking kind of... I dunno, below our paygrade?"

If looks could kill, you and Natasha would have murdered her on the spot. Bucky rolled his eyes before leaning over and murmuring something to Jade that you couldn't quite hear, but you had a pretty good idea what it was when her face turned red and she looked at the two of you and muttered "Oh, sorry-- I didn't know."

Your next murder-by-death stare went to Bucky. How fucking dare he divulge your secrets to her, especially when you told him he was only one of three people on this entire fucking planet who knew them? You told him that in confidence. He had absolutely no right. He just shrugged at you apologetically. Fucking shrugged. You were going to throw up. How many times was he going to betray you?

"As I was saying," Tony continued, as though Jade hadn't interrupted him, and you were grateful for it, "we want to put a couple of people on the inside, work there for a few months, see what they can find out."

"Oooh!" said Jade, bouncing in her seat and raising her hand like she was in grade school. "I volunteer!" She turned to stage whisper to Bucky. "Wouldn't I make an absolutely adorable stripper? It would be so much fun!"

Bucky had the good sense, for once in his life, to roll his eyes at Jade as Tony spoke up: “You’re benched, Carthage,” he said matter of factly. “Which reminds me; we need to have a discussion about how you managed to sneak your ass onto the Russia mission.

You felt a sick sense of satisfaction when you saw the look of chastisement cross Jade’s face, and were overcome with a renewed curiosity over just how she happened to get herself on that Quinjet in the first place. Not that it mattered, not anymore.

"So, do you think you'd be up for it, Pocket?" Tony turned to you. "Willing to dust off those pasties and jump back on the pole one last time?"

You smirked, having suspected that the ask was coming as soon as he mentioned a strip club. "What can I say, Boss? It'll be like riding a bike."

"Good, because maintenance is putting a practice pole in your room as we speak. Don't want you looking rusty undercover."

"As if I could ever!” You pretended to be affronted.

"Hold up," said Steve, and suddenly, you could feel all eyes on you. Oops. You’d forgotten that part of your history was also not common knowledge. You glanced around and everyone was staring; Sam's mouth was even hanging open. "Are you saying Pocket used to be a stripper?" Steve whispered the last word, as though it was naughty and he'd get in trouble for using it.

"Hey," you said nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders, "MIT ain't cheap."

"I'll have you know, Cap, that exotic dancing is a craft, and our Pocket here is an artist." You beamed at Tony's words, pride flushing through you. Your past as a dancer wasn't something that you necessarily led conversations with, but you weren't ashamed of it. The money had been excellent, and you'd been good at it. Damned good.

"You've seen her?" Sam asked, mouth still hanging open.

"How do you think we met?" Tony asked him, as if it was the stupidest question in the world.

"No," said Bucky, out of nowhere, his voice hard and angry. He stood up, fists planted on the table, glaring at you.

"It was definitely while she was working at a strip club" Tony said, deliberately mistaking Bucky's meaning. "It's not everyday you get a comparative analysis of the weaknesses of your company's firewalls at the same time you get a lap dance; tends to leave a lasting impression."

"No, I mean Pocket's not going undercover. She's just a civilian and it's too dangerous. Send Natasha or Jade in, instead," Bucky bit out through gritted teeth.

"Excuse me?" You stood up, as well, mirroring his stance and matching his glare from across the table. "You do not get to determine what missions are too dangerous for me, James. You're not my father."

"But I'm your boyfriend," he said, and the fact that you had called him 'James,' and not 'Bucky' or 'Barnes' wasn't lost on him. "And I care about whether or not you get hurt."

You laughed, cold and mirthless. "Since when?" you spat, letting every ounce of pain you felt at his betrayal into your voice. He looked back at you, hurt and abject confusion clouding his features.

"If you're so worried about her, then you can go, too," Tony said. "Go as her boyfriend, get a job at the club as a bouncer. We need multiple sets of eyes."

Bucky seemed almost mollified by this suggestion, but you were not going to allow it. "Absolutely not," you said, the conviction ringing in your voice. "Sam'll come with me."

"What?" both Sam and the super soldier asked at the same time.

"Barnes is way too identifiable with that metal arm," you offered by way of explanation. "No way in hell I'll keep my cover if I walk in with the fucking Winter Soldier by my side."

"She's got a point," Steve said, scratching his chin. "But Pocket, language, please." You stole a glance at Bucky, and his eyes were full of pain. You'd called him the Winter Soldier. Out loud. You'd never done that; you knew how hard he worked to differentiate himself from the monster Hydra had turned him into. It was a low blow on your part, but you couldn't find it in you to give a shit.

Tony clapped his hands. "All right, then it's settled. Pocket and Sam will go to Atlantic City. It's strictly an intel-finding mission, only. No heroics, got it you two?" You both nodded in agreement. While you were excited to go out into the field in an undercover capacity, you had no desire to see combat. Sure, you could more than handle your own if it came down to self-defense-- Nat had made sure of that, but there was a reason you were the computer girl and not an actual superhero yourself. "Pocket, get practicing. You've got about a week before we’ll be sending you and Sam out; don’t want you embarrassing me up there. Any questions? No? Good. That's it, then, class adjourned. 

"Oh, and one more thing," he said before everyone could collect themselves, "don't forget, our girl's turning 35 on Saturday. The party starts at eight. Dress to kill, because I'm going all out for this one."

You couldn't help the blush that crept up your face, despite the rollercoaster of anger and agony you’d been feeling. When Tony had approached you about throwing you a birthday party, you'd demurred, telling him you were too old for one, but he had insisted that, since you'd missed out on so many childhood experiences because of what your parents had put you through, you were going to get a party to remember.

You got up and gathered your things, purposefully avoiding Bucky as Nat and Wanda glared at him while they waited to escort you out. You were eager to get up to your new room so you could start researching the missing women and this strip club and, a part of you admitted with a smile, get practicing your old routine and come up with a couple of new ones. It was just the thing you needed to take your mind off of your current troubles.

“Pocket, Sam,” Tony called, catching your attention, “hold back a minute; I want to go over some details with you.”

Nat and Wanda looked at you, but you encouraged them to go on; Steve had made a beeline toward Bucky after the meeting had been adjourned and, despite Bucky lingering, obviously waiting to speak with you, had managed to steer him out of the room to discuss something you couldn’t give a shit about. “It’s fine, guys,” you told your friends. “He’s gone; I should be able to get back up to the room without trouble.

They exchanged a glance, then looked back at you. Nodding, they left.

“Pocket,” Tony said, once the conference room was clear and it was just the two of you and Sam remaining, “care to tell me why FRIDAY says you’ve moved rooms?”

“Not at the current moment, Boss,” you said. You didn’t want to rehash the drama you’d been thrown into against your will, let alone in front of a completely innocent bystander. Instead, you encouraged him to get on with whatever more he needed to tell you and Sam about the parameters of the mission. Hopefully, it would distract you enough to take your mind off of the sheer agony you felt inside.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[craigslisthorses]

That mare can get her weight back fairly easily honestly like she doesn't even look in too horribly bad of a shape. My dad's old mare started looking like that around her mid 20s and once he got her on the right feed (with some supliments) she started looking a hell of a lot better. She's almost 40 and is a grumpy old lady right now.

Horses can live to 40+ years if you take care of them right so idk why you're like "just put her down now". Jfc

Bro I work for a horse vet, and have for 11 years I know these things. Stop being so easily offended over a sarcastic comment. Horse management to get a horse to 40 needs to start at a younger age than 27. She has severe muscle atrophy which is the number 1 killer of old horses and there's no telling what her vet history is and if her teeth are even in her head anymore. She'll more than likely end up somewhere she is scared and uncared for or on a meat truck, that's why I say to put your old unwanted horses to sleep unless you can find a real solid retirement home for them where they are loved and cared for. Also for the 11 years I've worked for a horse vet the oldest horse I've been around was 38, not saying they can't make it to 40 but their average lifespan IS 25-30.

#all these new people seeing my blog for the first time #smh #you'll get used to my sarcasm or you can leave

[annabelle--cane]

a thing that I've consciously realized about aphobes recently is how dishonest they have to be about all their beliefs in order to act like they think ace and aro activism/acceptance is unimportant. I have a post going around right now about how asexual activism is part and parcel of sex positivity because the right to say "no" under all circumstances is necessary to sexual liberation, and a little while ago I got someone reblogging to comment "people are already fine with that, it was called being celibate until you all decided to rebrand it as asexual." I realized very quickly that the person saying that was a terf and had the thoughts a) lol. lmao. rofl, even. respectable opinion privileges revoked, get instablocked, and b) how can someone really call themself a radical feminist and seriously think that the right to refuse sex is a non-issue? how can you think that social pressure to accept unwanted normative sex isn't real? like madam. quite a lot of the feminist movement since its inception has been dedicated to the fact that people aren't actually fine when women refuse sex that's being asked of them. this is actually quite a big thing.

and, of course, the answer to those questions is that she didn't actually think any of that, I'm sure in every other circumstance she readily understands the problems of compulsory sexuality, it was just useful to pretend she didn't for a second to delegitimitze asexuals. she saw the word "asexual" and immediately assumed everything surrounding it was nonsense, ignoring all of her other social beliefs. same goes when people shut down other discussions about compulsory sexuality and amatonormativity with a "lol no one cares." they know perfectly well that people care about adherence to sex and relationship norms, they are pretending not to for this conversation.

#marina marvels at life

[gamerbearmira]

THUNDA

AU by @queenofthedisneyverse

I got bored and decided to take a break from drawing for asks and. Wrote this??? I mean it just came to my mind, and I remembered that comment thread from a few posts ago lol 💀💀

Anywayyyyy I've been thinking bout this au recently, so why not right for it

Let get it

---

Félix sat in the break room, having just come off the air. He had been there since 5 a.m., and he was tired and hungry. Of course, in his rush that morning, he had forgotten his lunch bag, and he cursed himself for that. He didn't like the station's food and he didn't feel like going out to any gas stations to buy any. Plus, his sister-in-law's food was way better than anything he could buy or make.

He tapped his foot, then perked up, remembering Pepa was at home. He quickly pulled out his phone, typing in the small keyboard, and waited impatiently for it to send. Service in the station sucked, unsurprisingly.

'Pepi can you bring me some food?'

Félix watched the screen for a while, growing more impatient before the next message popped up on the small screen.

'Be there in 15'

Félix breathed a sigh of relief, shoving his phone into his coat pocket. As he waited, his other coworkers, a few of the news anchors, and the other weatherwoman entered the room. He greeted them with a smile, and they joined him at the table.

"Hey Félix! Not surprised to see you here first," one of the news anchors, Cisco, said with a smile. He then looked confused. "Where's your food?"

Félix rolled his eyes. "Ay, I forgot it at home," he said, leaning forward. "But it's all good, my wife's gonna bring it to me. She'll be here in about 10 minutes."

One of the other news anchors suddenly spoke up. "You know Félix," he said in between bites. "We've never seen your wife. What's she like?"

Félix looked up in shock. "Really? I've never shown any pictures of her?" He asked, and the others shook their heads.

"You talk about her all the time, but you've never actually shown us what she looks like," the other weatherwoman, Emilia, said with a shrug as she took a bite of her food.

Félix furrowed his eyebrows. "B-But I have a picture of her on my desk?"

The others looked at each other and laughed, confusing Félix. "Bro, you have a picture of Thunderstorm from The Unwanted on your desk."

Félix blinked. "Yeah. That's my wife."

Cisco snorted, waving his mango around. "Yeah right. It's 2008 Félix, you think we're gonna fall for that?"

Félix pulled out his phone. "I'm being so serious, she's my wife," he flipped through his photo gallery, before finally coming up with some photos of him and Pepa. "Look!"

The group leaned forward, looking at the many photos of Félix next to Thunderstorm. A lot of them seemed to be in a concert, and there was only one where he was next to her taking a selfie. Emilia pursed her lips.

"No way," she said, leaning back in her chair. "You must've just had backstage access. And in that picture, she's not even looking at you!"

The others agreed, and Félix flipped his phone back around, flipping through some more photos. He finally got to the one he wanted, and showed them, smiling triumphantly. "Oh yeah? How do you explain this?" He said, pointing at the picture on the small phone. The others leaned forward once more, looking at the photo.

It was a wedding photo. Félix, obviously dressed in white attire, and Thunderstorm, or Pepa, in a long black dress and a sunflower bouquet in her hands while she stood next to Félix. The others stared at it, before murmuring amongst each other. One of them finally spoke up as Félix pulled his phone back. "No way. That's edited."

Félix pulled a deadpan face and was about to speak up when he got a message on his phone. With a smirk, he crossed his arms. "Well, speak of the devil. She's heading into the building right now."

The others rolled their eyes, seemingly tired of Félix antics. They denied his outrageous claims, not believing for one bit that Félix was married to Thunderstorm, one of the biggest singers of one of the biggest rock bands. But Félix just smiled and turned his head to the door as the click of heavy heels sounded through the hallway.

"Félix, I brought your lunch!" A voice called from the hall, and the others snapped their heads towards the doorway. And there she was. Thunderstorm, a.k.a Pepa Madrigal. She stood in the doorway, scanning the room with a nonchalant look. She had on dark clothes, a long dress with tall black heels. Her makeup was similar to her stage makeup; clearly, that was just how she dressed. Next to her, there was a small boy, no older than 3, who clung to her dress, and he perked up at the sight of Félix; the two shared an uncanny resemblance.

"Pepi!" Félix, casting an "I told you so" look to his coworkers, smiled, pecking Pepa on the lips. The other's jaws dropped, and Pepa checked the clock on the wall, while Félix picked up and smothered Antonio.

"All right mi amor, I have to head out," Pela said, handing Félix his bag of food. "I have rehearsal at the stadium, and then I'm gonna be rehearsing with the group after that."

"¡Adios!" With one last kiss, Pepa waved goodbye, leaving the break room with Antonio. Félix sat down, unpacking his food with a smirk. His coworkers stared at the door before turning to Félix.

"He's married...to Thunderstorm..." Cisco said.

"And he has a kid with her...?" Emilia stated next.

"Three. I have three kids, " Félix corrected, taking a bite of an arepa. The others just kept staring at him. "Do you believe me now?"

The other news anchor spoke up. "Wait, wait wait," he said, waving his hands. "But your last name is Castillo. Hers is Madrigal. So...what's up with that."

Félix shrugged. "I go by Castillo here at the station so none of their groupies try and come here. It was my last name before I got married. It's Madrigal now."

The others were shocked. They asked Félix a million questions, which he happily answered. One of them suddenly had a realization and spoke up. She pointed to one of the many band posters in the room. The one of the band.

"Wait, so if Thunderstorm--er, Pepa, is your wife," she said. "Isn't Chemical Chameleon her son? Does that mean he's your son too?"

"Yup. My second oldest. My oldest is in college right now," Félix said.

"What about Rose Thorn? A-And isn't she sisters with the Lonesome Butterfly?" Another asked.

"Yeah, they're my nieces. They have another sister, she's in college too," Félix stated nonchalantly.

"Oh my gosh. Does that mean that...Abuela Crimson...is..." Félix smiled again.

"Yup. My mother-in-law," Félix took another bite of his food as he watched the faces of his coworkers as they processed this new information. They slowly started piecing things together. And it was the most entertaining thing to him.

----

Bro was not kidding and they were FLABBERGASTED I mean it's insane. They saw all them pictures on Félix's desk and though that they weren't true 😭😭

It's all fun and games until the lead singer of one of the biggest emo rock bands walks in and hands your coworker his lunch bag

Félix's coworkers after seeing him kiss Pepa:

#my asks #my asks are open #encanto #encanto au #au #encanto antonio #encanto Félix #encanto Pepa #rock band #rock band au

[in-my-feels-probably]

Scott Street: Prologue - The Road to Atlanta (OC x TWD)

Daisy Grimes was only sixteen years old. She shouldn’t have had any more to worry about than — at least in her opinion — what was soon to be her parents' impending divorce. She was supposed to be drinking too much at parties her friends made her sneak out to, or being endlessly annoyed by her endearing yet infuriating little brother who had apparently made it his life’s mission to irritate his big sister to death. She was supposed to be worrying about college, or if she’d be asked to the dances, and whether or not she was going to beg her parents to finally get the family a cat for the sixteenth year in a row. Slowly but surely, Daisy was cracking away at their resolve, and she was sure this time that it finally was her year.

But then Daisy came home to the news that her Dad had been shot. And, as if that wasn’t enough to bring her world to a halt, an outbreak of a rapidly spreading virus took over the world while he was still in the hospital. Along with her family, Daisy was uprooted from her home and forced on the run where she had to fight to survive and keep her family safe every day, while still desperately grasping for some form of normalcy and domesticity.

Even after being reunited with her Dad and meeting new people who might not have been blood but certainly were still family, she realized her world would never be the same. As the days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, months turned into years….Daisy changed. 

And she wasn’t so sure that was a good thing anymore.

—

Walking Scott Street, feeling like a stranger

With an open heart, open container

I've got a stack of mail and a tall can

It's a shower beer, it's a payment plan

There's helicopters over my head

Every night when I go to bed

Spending money and I earned it

When I'm lonely, that's when I'll burn it

Do you feel ashamed

When you hear my name?

Anyway, don't be a stranger

Anyway, don't be a stranger

Don't be a stranger

—

Daisy couldn’t make it out the front door fast enough. She made the mistake of snoozing her alarm, which led to her missing the bus, and that led to her having to confront her already pissed off Mom to ask her for a ride to school. 

On a normal day, Lori would have been happy to do so. It was rare that her daughter asked her for something, and even rarer that she actually volunteered to spend time with her. Lori could count the days on her fingers in the past few months that Daisy had actually stepped out of her room long enough to spend time with her. But at the end of the day, Lori couldn’t blame her. If she’d had to wake up to her parents bickering every morning, she’d have spent a lot more time hiding in her room listening to music too. She even considered it some mornings when her mind was still reeling from a petty argument with Rick the night before, but then she’d feel guilty and get up to make everyone pancakes before they started their day. She was determined that they were going to be the kind of family that got up to eat pancakes together, and she’d be damned if anything got in the way of that – even if it was her lack of cooking skills. 

But today was not a normal day. 

There were no pancakes on the table, or a family happily sitting down to eat them. Carl had already left, carpooling with the neighbor’s kid. Rick was running late for work too, fumbling around for his keys while Lori stood in the kitchen, still in her pajamas. 

They had argued the night before – it was getting to be a regular occurrence at this point. 

And, while they often shielded Carl from it, Daisy more often than not got an unwanted earful. This time, Daisy couldn’t even tell what they were arguing about. She had just woken up to the sound of bickering muffled through the wall. She’d managed to get herself dressed and ready for school in record time, and now she was standing by the front door waiting for the passive aggressive comments to stop so that she could actually make it to class on time. Her parents apparently were determined to make that quite the feat for her. She was debating swiping the keys to her Mom’s car and driving herself when she heard Lori mutter under her breath.

��I wish you would just say it.”

Daisy could hear Rick let out an impatient sigh from down the hall. “Say what, Lori?”

Lori scoffed, and Daisy could practically feel her eyes roll. “Whatever the hell it is you’re not saying. Just say it! Speak!”

“There’s nothing to say–”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Daisy whined for the third time that morning, pausing her parents' bickering. “Can you do this later? I’m gonna be late, and I have a test in first period.”

There was a pause, and she could hear the sound of Rick’s keys as he made his way to the kitchen. He and Lori spoke in a hushed whisper for a while, until that whisper was on the verge of shouting. After she got tired of tapping her foot on the floor for an eternity, Daisy finally marched into the kitchen to see what the argument was about for herself. Her cheeks flushed as she caught the tail end of her parent’s conversation, which came to an abrupt halt as Lori spoke in anger without thinking.

“Sometimes I wonder if you even care about us at all.”

Daisy backed out of the room and headed for the front door before she could even see the shared look of guilt on their faces. Lori sighed as the sound of Rick’s hurried footsteps followed Daisy out into the living room.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, an awkward silence passing between him and his daughter. “You know she didn’t mean that. She’s just pissed at me, you know how she gets. It was my fault really.”

“It’s fine, Dad,” Daisy replied, her gaze set on the floor. 

Another awkward silence passed as Daisy traced over the pattern on the rug with her eyes. Rick shifted back and forth uncomfortably, before placing a hand on Daisy’s shoulder. She reluctantly met his gaze, shrugging her shoulders. 

“It’s fine,” she muttered, speaking under her breath. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Rick’s face fell, and Daisy quickly headed for the kitchen before the guilt could settle into the pit in her stomach. She stuck her head around the corner, stopping in her tracks when she saw her Mom hastily wiping away tears from under her eyes. Lori’s lashes were still wet when Daisy backtracked to the front door where Rick was still waiting.

“I’m just gonna walk today,” she announced.

“Honey, no,” Lori tried to reason, fumbling around in the kitchen for her keys. “I’ll drive you. Just let me grab my purse.”

“It’s only a few blocks, I’ll be fine.”

Rick shook his head, agreeing with Lori. “Daisy, let your Mom take you. You’ll drive her insane if you don’t let her take care of you. It’s her way or the highway.”

Daisy could hear the attempt at humor in his voice. He was trying to make light of the situation, and Daisy could appreciate that. Her parents were trying to be civil and rational. She could see the effort they were putting in every day to try and work on how they spoke to each other, if not for themselves then for their kids. But something in his voice rubbed Daisy the wrong way, and she already had too much on her mind to add her parents fighting like children to the list. 

Daisy snapped, spitting out poison. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? You’d think you would have learned by now, Dad. I guess you can always try your luck next time.”

“Days–”

“What?” she spat, unlocking the front door as quickly as she could. 

“Look at me.”

Daisy begrudgingly turned around, meeting her Dad’s stern gaze. His jaw was clenched, but he took a deep breath to calm himself down. He always did this – stared at her in silence until he was sure the next words either of them spoke wouldn’t be shouted. He’d used her nickname that only he got the free pass to use, knowing no one else had called her Days since she was little when she decided it sounded too childish. For whatever reason, Daisy could never bring herself to ask her Dad to stop using it. So he saved it for moments like these, when he wanted his little girl to take a breath and listen to him. It was his way of silently saying sorry for whatever it was that was happening between the two of them, and it worked almost every time. 

Almost every time. Rick couldn’t even get a hand on her shoulder before Daisy was recoiling, pulling away from him.

“Just stop, Dad!” Daisy shouted, untangling her earbuds as she rambled. “I don’t need this shit today, alright? I’m already late. Please, just save the caring act for Carl. I’m sure he’s the only one in this house that still believes it. God knows I’ve seen it enough times to know that it’s bullshit, so just stop, okay? Go to work and play hero to strangers, Dad. I don’t need you. It's not like you've been much of one to me lately."

She regretted her words as soon as she said them. He was trying to be nice and make the start of her day better, but all she could do was make the situation worse in her anger. She quickly turned around and headed out the door before she could dig herself into an even bigger hole, shoving her earbuds in her ears. She was out the door before he could come up with something to say.

Rick didn’t follow after her this time.

—

Daisy couldn’t focus the whole day. Her parents fighting always put her in a sour mood, and it ruined any potential she had at staying on task. She was almost positive she had bombed her test in first period, or maybe by some miracle she’d managed to scrape by with a C. It was all so hazy in her mind, she couldn’t really tell. Either way, she wasn’t happy. But despite her best efforts, all she could focus on was the conversation she had with her parents that morning.

She didn’t know why she acted the way she did. 

When her parents first started fighting, she was always quick to step in and try to diffuse the situation. But she was sixteen now, and the fights that her parents had were beginning to happen more and more often. It had gotten very old, and so she couldn’t help but snap on mornings like this. She’d spend the rest of the day regretting it, and the guilt Lori and Rick also felt from fighting with each other – especially in front of their kid – would postpone their next argument to at least another day out. 

At least they all agreed on something – feeling guilty.

Daisy took the bus on the way home. The bus was the place Daisy did her very best thinking. All the ideas about different ways she could apologize or get her parents to apologize to each other filled her head. By the time the bus made it to her stop, she had plenty of methods stocked up. Daisy was about to stand up and grab her backpack when a sudden feeling washed over her. Reluctantly, she let go of her bag. She couldn’t bring herself to get off the bus. Instead, she waited until the doors closed to settle back into her seat, letting the driver continue on down the road. 

After a few stops, the bus stopped at the end of Scott Street.

Scott Street was Daisy’s very first home. Her parents married young, barely out of their own parents' houses when they found out Lori was pregnant. They were eighteen and stupid, but Lori was determined to create the little family she had always dreamed of. Naive and in love, Rick did everything he could to give it to her. 

He started in the police academy, quickly becoming an officer, while Lori took night classes to get a business degree. She never really did end up using it, but at the time she figured it would come in handy one day. It didn’t hurt to get it, and they still could get by on the combined little bit of money their parents gave them to start their own lives. Their first home together was a little apartment by the community college. Slowly, they saved and saved. By the third trimester, they had enough saved to put a down payment on a little house on the edge of the suburbs. It wasn’t much to look at, and it was too cramped for a family of four – they had moved into their current home by the time Carl was around. But their little house on Scott Street was their first home. And, although Daisy hadn’t lived there for quite some time, she still had good memories there. On days like this when her family was fighting, she’d long for her first home.

Before the bus could pull away, Daisy quickly shot out of her seat and stepped off the bus. She gave the driver a friendly wave, taking out her earbuds to roll them up and shove them in her jacket pocket as she stepped out of the street and onto the sidewalk. She watched the bus pull away, leaving her alone on the quiet street.

Daisy slowly walked to the third house down on the left. It had been repurchased since her time there. The new owners had painted over the quaint shade of yellow with a dull gray, and the pretty white trim was now a dirty charcoal color. The red door Daisy had toddled through so many times with her parents hot on her heels was now painted a dusty looking brown. The flower beds Lori could never seem to keep alive had been ripped up and replaced with a layer of mulch. Even the car parked in the driveway was a sad and dreary little thing, reflective of the sad and dreary little people that were living inside of Daisy’s house who had painted over and ruined all of its charm and comforting qualities. 

Daisy hadn’t even realized she was crying until the tear rolling down her cheek fell onto her shirt. She quickly wiped under her eyes, clearing her throat as she shoved her earbuds back in. Daisy didn’t know why she was crying. 

It was just a house. 

It wasn’t her home anymore. It wasn’t the house she saw her little brother grow up in. It wasn’t the house her Mom let her keep the stray cat she found in for all of an afternoon before she discovered it was actually the neighbor's cat, and it was then promptly placed back outside next door. It wasn’t the house where she watched her Dad come home with a tired smile on his face, raving about the promotion he had gotten that day. 

And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was left behind here. A part of herself, or a part of her family – something that was keeping them together, and now that it was missing, they were finally starting to unravel.

Daisy quickly shook her head, taking one last look at the house before turning around and marching back down the street. She wiped under her eyes as she walked, humming along to the music in her ears as she found her way back home. The apology she had spent the entire bus ride working on was now on the tip of her tongue, and she was ready to get home and wait at the dining room table until both her parents were home so she could deliver it to them. But then she turned the corner in her neighborhood to her street.

A squad car was waiting in the driveway, and her Dad’s partner, Shane, was at the front door, frantically pounding on it. 

Daisy could feel her stomach drop, a sick and twisted feeling in her gut stopping her in her tracks. She ripped her earbuds out for a final time, this time shoving them into her backpack out of her reach. After a minute, she finally got her feet to move. She slowly made her way down the sidewalk, stopping next to her mailbox. She couldn’t force her feet to take her any further.

She placed a hand on the mailbox, bracing herself as she called out to the man at her front door. “Shane?”

Her voice was quiet and cracked, but it was loud enough that Shane heard it. He whipped around, his eyes landing on her at the end of the driveway. Daisy couldn’t help but instantly notice the dried blood caked on his t-shirt under his uniform. He had clearly tried to scrub it off sometime earlier in the day, but he was too frantic or distracted to notice that he’d missed some. Daisy had to force herself to pry her eyes away from the stain, finally looking up to meet his gaze. Even if there wasn’t any blood, the ghostly white look on Shane’s face would have been enough to tell her that something was seriously wrong. 

“Shane?” she asked again. 

It was all she could bring herself to say.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he muttered, trying to mask the fear in his voice with calmness. 

It was a tactic he had mastered when having to talk to the families of criminals and victims when something in a case went awry. He had gotten used to it by now – he was good at it, even. But at this moment, he couldn’t mask the shakiness in his voice. His eyes were soft on Daisy as he motioned to the squad car.

“Why don’t you come with me, alright?” he asked, opening up the passenger side door. “Your Dad wanted me to come tell you something.”

—

It was like her body was on autopilot. 

She knew what was happening the moment she sat down in the car, but it was a shock to her system anyway. Shane told her about the call they responded to. Two armed and dangerous men being chased up and down backroads, firing at the officers any chance they got. They eventually were pinned down and in a shootout with responding officers. In the process, her Dad was shot. Once in the ribs, although the bulletproof vest caught the brunt of it. The worst he would have had from it was a nasty bruise. But the second time, he wasn’t so lucky. An unknown third man crawled out of the car and shot him through the shoulder. He was picked up in an ambulance and rushed to the hospital, passed out by the time surgeons got to him. Before he passed out, he told Shane to go to Lori and his kids. He wanted Shane to tell them that he loved him, and that he’d be okay.

Daisy had checked out of the conversation by the time Shane got to that part, her ears ringing and muffling his words. She didn’t even realize they had stopped until Shane put the car in park. She looked up to see Carl’s school, her Mom standing in the parking lot with the mother of one of Carl’s friends.

Daisy let out a shaky breath as Shane cleared his throat, wringing his hands together. “Why don’t you wait here, alright? I’ll handle this.”

Shane got out of the car before Daisy could even register what he said. He stepped a few feet from the car, waiting for Lori to approach him. Daisy watched as her Mom’s face fell, but she put on a brave face and walked over anyway. They had a muffled conversation before the sound of a school bell interrupted them.

Daisy perked up when kids began filing out of the school, happy smiles on their faces as they found their parents. She unbuckled and quickly scrambled out of the car once Carl came into view. She was halfway to him when she felt a hand in hers, turning her around.

“What are you doing?” Lori asked gently, bringing her free hand up to hold hers. “Shane said you haven’t spoken since he picked you up. Let me do this, baby girl. Everything is going to be alright, just go wait with Shane.”

Carl had stopped in the street now, a confused look on his face. Daisy glanced at him over her shoulder before quickly turning back to her Mom.

“Let me do it.”

Lori’s face fell as she shook her head. “Honey, no–”

“Mom…please,” she pleaded, squeezing Lori’s hand. “He can’t hear it the way I just heard it. I’ll be gentle, I won’t let him worry. He’ll know it’s bad if you do it.”

Daisy’s voice cracked halfway through her sentence, and she could see her Mom’s eyes fill with tears. It was silent for a moment before Lori nodded, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. She squeezed it one more time before letting her go.

“I’ll be right here.”

Daisy nodded, turning back to face Carl. She quickly headed across the street, stopping in front of him. She sat down on the curb, patting the spot next to her for him to sit. He obliged, plopping down next to her with a goofy smile on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“Not happy to see me?” Daisy scoffed, feigning offense. “It was a half day for the high school, remember?”

Carl nodded. Daisy smiled, slinging her arm around his shoulder. In her peripheral vision, she could see her Mom standing by the squad car. Her hands were shaking, and Shane had a comforting hand on her shoulder. Daisy took a deep breath, opening her mouth to speak.

Carl beat her to the punch. “What’s Shane doing here?”

“I need you to listen to me, okay?” Daisy spluttered out, hesitating for a moment. “Don’t make a big deal out of this, everything is fine. I promise. Just…let me say this.”

For once, Carl didn’t fight her on this or do any of the things little brothers do to endlessly annoy their big sisters. He just nodded, letting her take his hand. She gave it a squeeze, giving him a halfhearted smile.

“It’s Dad…there was an accident at work.”

Carl’s eyes widened and filled with fear. “What? Wh…What do you mean? What happened? Is he okay? Is he de–”

“No!” Daisy quickly answered, squeezing his hand. “No. Something happened at work today. He’s been shot, but an ambulance came right away to get him. He’s in the hospital right now. He’s having surgery to fix him. They’re gonna fix him.”

Tears immediately spilled over his cheeks, and Daisy was quick to pull him into a tight hug. Carl hid his face in her shoulder, letting her gently rock them back and forth. She gave him a moment to breathe before gently pulling him back by his shoulders.

“Have I ever lied to you?” Daisy asked, wiping the tears from his cheeks with her thumbs.

Carl shook his head, his voice watery. “No. You said lying was only for kids to use against their parents, and you promised to never lie to me.”

“Exactly,” she chuckled. “I’ve lied to Mom and Dad plenty of times. More times than I care to share, really…but never to you. I’ve always told you the truth, even if I knew it would make you mad at me. I told you when I accidentally backed over your skateboard with Mom’s car, didn’t I?”

“You still haven’t made that up to me, by the way.”

“You little asshole,” Daisy grinned, pulling him in for another hug. “Don’t tell Mom I said that in front of you. Now’s the perfect time for you to practice lying. Or better yet…withholding the truth. That’s a skill a bit harder to master, but I’m sure you’ve got what it takes.”

Carl nodded, a small grin on his face as he slowly calmed down. Daisy stood up, helping him up from the curb. She took his backpack from him, shouldering it herself as she looked down at him. Although he was smiling too, she could still see the fear on his face, so she quickly held him in place and ruffled her fingers all through his hair. It stuck straight up in about eight different places, and Daisy laughed while he fought against her to try and push her back. She finally let him go with a smile, reaching down to smooth his hair down.

“Dad’s going to be alright, Carl. I’m not lying…I’m promising you. I don’t want you to worry, okay? Let’s just save the worrying for Mom. It’s her who’s gonna have to endure Dad’s whining all day at home until he’s well enough to go back to work. Remember the last time he got a cold? You would have thought he had the plague with how much he griped and complained.”

Carl laughed, nodding. Daisy put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him out in front of her in the direction of where Lori and Shane were still standing. Lori had a grateful smile on her face. Shane was still chuckling as he watched Carl continue to smooth his hair down.

“Come on,” Daisy said, leading him to the car. “We’ll ask Mom if we can go to the hospital now.”

—

Rick spent a few hours in surgery. When he was stable, the doctors came out into the waiting room to update everyone on his condition. They explained that, while his condition wasn’t critical, he had lost a lot of blood. He had to be placed into a medically induced coma so his body could recover without overworking itself. In the days following, they’d reduce the medication and let him wake up on his own.

When Daisy asked for a time frame they’d all have to wait, she was given a very vague answer by a clearly overworked and tired nurse. It was obvious this wasn’t her first time dealing with a family like this, and the repetitive questions were wearing her down.

“We can’t give you an exact time or date. It all depends on the rate at which his body heals itself. We’re doing everything we can on our end, all that can be done now is giving him time. Feel free to sit with him now if you want. It’s not entirely proven, but it’s said that patients in comas are actually sometimes cognisant of what’s going on around them. If you talk to him and let him know you’re there, it might encourage him to wake up faster. Understand my use of the word “might,” please.”

“But he will wake up?” Lori asked with an expectant look on her face.

The nurse hesitated, glancing over at Daisy who had Carl asleep on her shoulder. “Like I said, ma’am. Give it time. We’re working at your husband’s pace now.”

“He’s a fighter,’ Shane said impotently, pacing around the waiting room with a cup of coffee in his hand like he’d been doing for the last few hours. “He’ll be up and at it in no time.”

The nurse said nothing more, just nodding as she returned to her work.

—

Daisy spent the following several days in and out of the hospital. Between school and making sure her brother and Mom were doing alright, she felt like she had less and less time to sit in a hospital room. After all, Rick still hadn’t woken up yet. It was possible he had no idea they were there, and it wasn’t making much of a difference sitting and worrying at the hospital instead of sitting and worrying at home.

One evening, Daisy stayed at the hospital late. Carl needed to go to bed, and Lori only had her car to take him home. Daisy wanted to stay, so Shane offered to stay as well and drop her off on his way home. 

The two sat alone in the hospital for another hour before Shane stood up, stretching. “I’m gonna go get a cup of coffee. You want anything?” Daisy just shook her head. Shane nodded, leaving her alone in the room. After a few minutes of staring, she shuffled her chair closer until she was sitting right at Rick’s bedside. Carefully, she took his hand in hers. He was cold to the touch. She absentmindedly pulled his blanket up over him higher, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach that this cold lifeless hand was not the hand of the warm father she always knew. She took a breath, squeezing his hand in hers.

“Dad?” she whispered, getting no response.

Rick lied still in the hospital bed, his hand limp and heavy in hers. Daisy sniffled, trying and failing to fight back tears. She gave his hand a squeeze, her voice low as she spoke.

“I went back to the old house again. Mom drove us by on the way to the hospital. She finally got to see what they did to the paint. She called it a monstrosity. Said she could never picture a family growing up in a house like that. We made bets on what the inside looks like. Carl said he bets their couch still has the cover on it, like the one Grandma put over her furniture last Christmas. He thinks whoever lives there keeps it on year round. Mom said she's thankful you got us all a nice house so that Carl could know a home like the one we had before he was born.”

The words caught in her throat. Daisy looked down at their joined hands, hers beginning to shake.

“Dad,” she tried again, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as she got no response. “I’m so sorry.”

Her last words she said to him came rushing back to her, and she felt like the guilt would swallow her whole. She looked at her Dad’s face, his eyes closed and his skin pale. She could see the outline of his bandages from the surgery under his gown. There was a nagging thought in the back of her mind that maybe he wouldn’t wake up again, and the thought alone was enough to pull a muffled sob from her. She squeezed his hand, her voice raw.

“Why’d you have to be a hero, Dad? Why you? Why’d you let yourself get shot?”

Daisy let out a shaky breath, clutching his hand tighter. “I didn’t mean it. I know you care, we all know you care. I know what I said was cruel, but…I need you. I really need you to be the bigger person right now and wake up. Mom’s worried sick, Carl is following me around like a lost puppy. I had to lie to him and promise you’d be okay, when I don’t know a fucking thing!”

A low sob catching in her chest prevented her from continuing. 

Suddenly, the door opened once more, and Shane peeked his head in. One look at Daisy’s tear stained face, and he was grabbing his things from the chair. He bent down and placed a kiss on top of her head, then a hand on Rick’s shoulder. His voice was tired, but soft.

“I’ll be in the car. Five minutes, you hear me? I gotta get you home, Days.”

The use of her nickname only made her cry more. She just nodded, and Shane was quick to leave the room. Once she was sure he was gone, Daisy turned back to look at her Dad. She wiped at her cheeks with her free hand, letting out a long sigh.

“I’m gonna take care of them, okay?” she promised, nodding. “Until you come home, I’ll watch out for everyone. I’m gonna make it up to you as soon as you’re awake, I promise. And I’m sorry for swearing…I know you don’t like when I do that. Mom lets me swear, you know — just in front of her anyway, not in front of Carl. You can argue about that with her sooner if you would just wake up.”

Daisy chuckled at her own joke, fresh tears spilling from tired eyes down her cheeks. She shook her head, standing up to gather her things. She reached for his hand one last time, giving it three rapid squeezes. 

It meant, I love you. 

It was something they did in their family when it needed to be said, but for whatever reason they just couldn’t get the words out. Usually after arguments, or when someone was crying, but during the happy moments too when someone was laughing so hard that they couldn’t get any words out at all. Daisy was longing for one of those moments right about now.

Just as she was about to let go, she felt the faintest of squeezes to her own hand. It was so light, she almost missed it. She nearly convinced herself it was just in her imagination, when she felt another light squeeze. Daisy leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of Rick’s hand, gently pulling hers away as she headed for the door.

“You can give me that last one when I come back to visit after school tomorrow,” she said excitedly, opening the door. “I’ll be here, Dad. I promise.”

—

Daisy didn’t go back to the hospital the next day – she never got the chance to.

For the first week that Rick was in the hospital, there had been reports of some kind of virus spreading out west and in highly populated cities. While it wasn’t close to Daisy or anyone in her town, the news coverage of it was still making people uneasy. They began locking themselves in their houses, calling out of work and pulling their children out of school. 

The night she got home from the hospital, Lori told her she wanted to wait a few days before any of them went back to visit. Apparently, there had been some sort of riot downtown at a grocery store, and a few people were shot and injured. It all seemed dramatic to Daisy, but she could hear the stress in her Mom’s voice when she asked, so she agreed not to go anywhere for a few days until things started to calm down.

As the days progressed, the news coverage of the virus got worse and worse. It was making people violent and deranged. Civilians were being shot dead in the streets by police, people were eating other people, and there were reports that entire villages in other countries had been wiped out by the virus. There was riots and looting and chaos – mass panic was beginning to ensue. Eventually, the virus spread into Daisy’s state, then her county, then her town. The military began sending troops down to manage the situation, and they advised all civilians within a fifty mile radius to evacuate to Atlanta for a while where a quarantine and refugee camp was set up.

Daisy barely had time to wrap her head around it before Shane was showing up to their door, his car packed and ready to go. 

“I’m going to the hospital to get Rick,” he whispered to Lori at the front door.

Daisy overheard, making sure Carl wasn’t around before she butted into the conversation. “What? He’s not awake yet, he needs the doctors. You can’t just go get him.”

“Daisy’s right,” Lori tried to reason. “Isn’t a hospital the safest place for him? They know how to handle sickness and contamination, we don’t. They have protocols to follow. They said if it came down to it, they’d medevac patients to Atlanta without notice. Who says they’ll even discharge him?”

Shane lifted the hem of his shirt to show his gun holstered to his side. “They’ll release him.”

Lori’s eyes widened in shock. “Shane…I–”

“Look,” he spoke quickly. “I promised Rick I’d look after y’all while he was gone, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Now, the station has been getting reports from all over the county. The sheriff has been talking to the ones from neighboring counties, and it sounds like this is all gonna get a lot worse before it gets better.”

“Shane,” Daisy tried to interrupt, but he was quick to silence her.

“Damn it, just listen! I promised your Dad I would do this, I promised him I’d look after you and do what’s best for you. And right now, this is what’s best for you. Now I’m gonna do what’s best for him and go to the hospital, I don’t think it’s the safest place for him to be anymore. The news is right, they’re sending damn platoons in every day by the tankload. They’re saying Atlanta is safer, so we have to go. Pack the essentials and be ready to go by the time I get back, alright? Please, Days. We’re all outta here as soon as I get Rick.”

The tone of his voice was something neither Daisy or Lori had ever heard before. There was a sense of such desperation and urgency that Lori listened immediately. She had Daisy going back inside to help Carl pack within seconds, coming up with the next steps of the plan with Shane before he left for the hospital. 

—

According to him, Shane barely made it alive out of the hospital. 

He came back to the house in a hurry, practically strapping everyone into the car himself and speeding off before he explained what happened. Daisy only heard bits and pieces after Carl started crying and she pulled herself together long enough to comfort him, but the things that she did hear shook her to her core. The hospital was overrun. The military was already there, and they were shooting uninfected doctors and nurses alike. Half the hospital had already been evacuated, and the other half had fallen. Despite doing absolutely everything he could, Shane couldn’t save Rick. He could only save himself and fulfill his promise to Rick by making sure his family made it out safe.

The next few days were a blur. 

Eventually, they made it to the highway that led into Atlanta. Cars were at a standstill, stopped for hours at a time. By nightfall, the line had been stalled for so long that everyone had turned off their cars to save gas. Families had gotten out and were talking to the families in the cars next to theirs, sharing food and radios, trying to see if anyone had any clue what was going on. Then, the radios went out. Eventually, Shane decided it was safe enough for everyone to get out of the car and stretch their legs. 

That was when Daisy met the Peletier’s – a brutish and seemingly chronically upset father named Ed, a nice but skittish and reserved mother and housewife named Carol, and their quiet little girl called Sophia.

Sophia was right around Carl’s age. Once the two families got to talking, Carol set up a travel size board game of checkers in the trunk of her car for the kids to play with. They were getting bored and antsy, and it was a good way to entertain them. Daisy sat behind Carl on the tailgate silently watching over his shoulder, snickering every time Sophia made a move and took one of his pieces. It was enough to keep everyone calm and distracted for a while, but the helicopters circling overhead eventually uneased everyone enough that they just forgot about the game all together. 

After a while, Lori and Shane decided to scout ahead and see if they could figure out what was going on.

“Stay with your brother and Carol, okay?” Lori asked Daisy, reaching up to brush the stray hairs out of her face. “Promise me.”

Daisy nodded, glancing over at Shane. “The broadcasts stopped, didn’t they? The ones telling people about the refugee center in Atlanta. I saw what station it was being broadcasted over on the way here, we must have heard it fifty times over the last few days. I checked in Carol’s car…it’s all static now.”

Shane sighed, knowing he couldn’t lie to her. Daisy was too smart for her own good, and there was no point in trying to hide the truth from her. The highway was a glue trap. It was likely that the refugee center was turning people away, or it had already been overrun. The broadcasts stopped because whoever was broadcasting them decided that there’s no people left and nothing worth broadcasting to. Shane nodded, tilting his head towards Carl.

“Just stay here. We’ll be right back.”

Shane and Lori headed off before Daisy could protest. She just huffed, sitting back down on the tailgate with Carl and Sophia. She reached over Carl’s shoulder to move a checker, giving Sophia a reassuring smile.

“Your dad’s nice,” Sophia commented.

Carl tensed up next to Daisy. “Shane’s not my Dad. My Dad’s dead.”

An awkward silence fell over the group. Daisy could feel a stinging behind her eyes, her chest tightening. She could feel Carol’s pitying eyes on her, making her look up at Sophia. There was nowhere she could look to get away from this feeling though, despite how hard she was trying to. Then Daisy noticed a little doll tucked into Sophia’s lap, clearly a well loved toy.

“I like your doll,” she said, making Sophia’s face light up. “I had one like that when I was your age.”

Sophia smiled, moving another piece. “Where’s yours?”

“I gave her away to the neighbor's daughter. I hadn’t played with her in years, and I figured she’d get better use out of it than I would letting it collect dust on my dresser. I bet it’s buckled into the backseat of that little girl’s car right now. On a roadtrip – sounds cool, right?”

Before Sophia could reply, a distant explosion sounded from somewhere down the highway. The sounds of an argument could be heard, and Daisy craned her neck to see a fight breaking out a few cars ahead of hers. Suddenly, more helicopters circled overhead. This time, they headed into the city. Everyone on the road paused what they were doing to watch, stepping over the guardrail to see past the trees on the hill. The city was dark, only the light from the helicopters illuminating the skyline. The helicopters hovered over the skyline as onlookers watched from the highway. Faint murmurs from people inside the city could be heard alongside the whirring blades of the helicopters.

Sudden flashes of light could be seen in the night sky. Just as Daisy squinted to try and get a better look at their source, multiple fiery mushroom clouds of heat and smoke billowed over the skyline. The city lit up ghastly tones of yellow, orange, and red.

Then it dawned on Daisy – they were dropping napalm in the streets.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, quickly standing up to help Carl and Sophia down from the tailgate. “Don’t watch, okay? Eyes on me.”

To her side, Carol let out a gasp and then a short sob, looking to Ed for answers. He just watched with a far away look in his eye, glancing around to see how everyone else was reacting. Daisy could feel Carl clinging to her waist, and she looked down to see a wild look in his eye as he watched the skyline light up.

“Get in the car, now!” Ed ordered, hastily yanking on Carol’s arm to get her in the passenger seat.

“We can’t just leave Carl and Daisy!” Sophia cried, tears running down her cheeks in fear.

Daisy was quick to reassure her, pulling Carl closer. “Go with your Mom, okay? We’ll be fine, we’ll catch up.”

Sophia was pushed into the car by Ed before she could get another word out. He quickly got back in his car, cranking it and stepping on the gas. He rammed into the car in front of him, smashing the bumper into pieces. Daisy gasped as he gunned it until he pushed the car out of the way, tearing up the shoulder of the road. The car scraped against the guard rail making an awful sound till Ed finally drove right through it, turning in the opposite direction the cars were parked to head back the way they came. The tires burned patches into the grass below, leaving tracks in their wake.

Daisy felt like she was going to puke. She looked around frantically for Lori and Shane, but they were nowhere in sight. People were screaming and crying, mass panic blanketing the highway. The smell of the burning city began wafting up the hill, the smoke stinging her eyes. She clutched Carl tighter to her.

“Hold my hand and don’t let go,” she ordered, gripping Carl tight. “We have to find Mom.”

Daisy took off in the direction her Mom had left earlier, turning around to make sure she remembered where their car was left. She pulled Carl over the guard rail, keeping him out of the way of people running and trying to drive on the shoulder of the road. She led him into the patch of trees at the top of the hill, scanning the area as best she could. By some miracle, she spotted Lori and Shane in the midst of the chaos a few yards away. Lori was clinging to Shane from behind as he led her through the sea of people, one hand wrapped around her wrist, the other on his gun. His eyes were wide and calculated, like an animal that had been cornered on a hunt.

“Shane!” Daisy screamed, running to him with Carl in tow. “Mom!”

“Daisy!” Lori cried, immediately breaking from Shane to pull her kids into a hug. “I told you to stay put, what were you thinking?”

“I had to move! We nearly got mowed over just standing there, and Ed already pulled Carol and Sophia into the car, they’re leaving. It’s getting bad, people are fighting and panicking–”

Shane interrupted her, quickly pulling everyone into a tighter huddle. “What do you mean they’re leaving? The grid is locked, there’s nowhere to go!”

Daisy frantically pointed up the hill. “Ed busted through the guard rail. Practically knocked a tire off turning to drive back the way we came. He left tracks as far as I could see.”

Shane looked up the hill for a second before finally nodding. “Come on, we’re following.”

“Shane,” Carl finally managed to spit out, still clinging to Daisy. “I’m scared!”

Lori took ahold of Carl in one hand, Daisy in the other. “Listen to me. I know you’re scared, but we’re going to be fine. We’re going to be brave, and we’re going to get out of this. I want you two to listen to everything Shane says, and you don’t let go. No matter what happens, you listen and never let go.”

Daisy could feel her Mom’s hand shaking in hers, but she was putting on a voice so brave that her words almost convinced Daisy that they’d be okay. They’d get off this highway and make it to somewhere safe, and this living nightmare they were stuck in would all go away. It’s what Daisy kept telling herself as Shane cleared a path for them to get back to the car. Everyone piled in as quickly as possible, and Shane didn’t waste a second before gunning it past the downed guard rail, following Carol’s tire tracks.

As the skyline faded from view, Daisy watched out the back window. Before they rounded a corner, she watched in horror as a group of the undead suddenly emerged from the trees. They descended onto the highway, grabbing and attacking stragglers who were too panicked to run or fight back. Gunfire rang throughout the streets from stray hunting rifles stashed in the backs of cars, but the dead weren’t dropping. They took shot after shot, only finally going down when someone managed to get a headshot in. 

Daisy promptly turned back around to face forward and look away just as she watched brain matter splatter across the pavement, the sound of gunfire, groans, and desperate screams fading into the background.

—

A/N - Hi! Finally caved and started a TWD fic! I’ve had this fic idea in my head for a while now, and with The Ones Who Live coming out, I figured now would be a good time to start it while I’m getting back into TWD. This is a lot different than the past fics I’ve written, because unlike my other fics, I’m not disclosing any planned relationships between my OC and any of the other characters until I write up until certain parts of the show. This is gonna be a long fic, so bear with me while I plan, write, and update it. This is a new kind of writing for me, so please be patient! I’m still not entirely sure where I’m going with it, but I wanted to go ahead and get some of it out. I hope you like it, thank you to anyone who reads and supports my work! Any questions, feedback, comments, suggestions, and critiques are all welcome :)

#the walking dead x oc #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #twd #alden twd #noah twd #daisy grimes #daisy grimes x the walking dead #daisy grimes x twd #oc x twd #oc x the walking dead #rick grimes #carl grimes #daryl dixon

[hermesgoestojuvie]

do you have any permes hcs or fic ideas?

oh anon u have no idea what you've unleashed. the permes fic ideas are all i have some days, alas, im not that accomplished at the whole idea to words transition as i wish i was. i'll go into a few more concrete ones under the read more

Quick note: So like. All the things I plan to write happen when he’s 18+. and there's no sibling or parent incest. (bringing that up cause i got an. interesting dm once.) So this is just a quick disclaimer of sorts. And I’m not hating on anyone who wants to write or read something dark! I mean for instance I have a time travel Percy/Hermes brainworm that is considered dark and probably not what a lot of people want to read, so i'll tag it as such.

The One Where There is a War

Explained a little more in detail here but I have no problem talking a little about it again. It was inspired by this one perpollo fic that I'm still looking for so I can link it, bc trust me, it is GOOD. (edit: FOUND IT!!!! HERE it’s by @ghost-bxrd)The premise of that fic was a war between the gods and demigods, and my fic is meant to draw from that as well as some elements from Lore by Alexandra Bracken. It takes place post-second Giant war, but I'm toying with the idea of having the war and all related events, like gaea's rising, happen when percy is maybe 19-20? I'm not sure yet though. I might keep the timeline as is instead. For now, just know that it is post-second giant war.

Anyways, the premise is the new war the demigods have waged on the gods, when Percy, already a conflicted party to the war, comes across an injured Hermes when he is separated from his group of scouts.

2. Warning: Untitled For Now But It Is The Dark!Hermes One

you ever read child surprise by aphroditesfavorite or the breezeblocks series by violetmoreviolent?

Both are perpollo, and while I've not caught up to child surprise (i'm two chapters in, its been in my marked for later for a while, and ive had the tab open for ages, i just keep getting distracted lol) i know that it does deal with a time-travel trope, with percy, post-second giant and titan wars, waking up in the past, the day athena and poseidon compete over athens.

from what i hear, where child surprise is perpollo, there is a dark, forcecful hermes scene, which is absolutely not meant to be shippy btw! i heard from a friend who has gotten farther than me that the aphroditesfavorite has also stated that the shippy comments received about that hermes scene has made them uncomfortable so like, dont go reading it for that guys please.

breezeblocks meanwhile has a take on dark!apollo, a more ancient apollo, in a way. an apollo that you remember IS an olympian and all that may entail. i actually have caught up with the latest updates, and it takes place in the present. i dont want to go spoiling, but I will say that like, the way its all unraveling and unfolding is just so interesting, im high key invested.

@ashilrak and @mrthology have also written an absolutely heartbreaking, gutwrenching, exceptionally glorious banger of a fic, HAUNT ME, THEN- that also really captures the otherness and ancient, almost older, aspect of the olympians.

anyways, the reason i bring these fics up is because i just really love the idea that percy was born from the sea, while also acknowledging that one of my favorite parts of the whole book series in the first place is percy's connection to mortality and to his mother. reading child surprise really was root of a lot of ideas of percy emerging from the saltwater fountain in athens at the time of poseidon and athena's competition, with the idea that the trip to the past coincides with unwanted percy's ascension. it is not the birth of percy jackson the demigod, but in half, percy jackson the deity (the other half near coming to fruition in tartarus before he forced himself to stop.)

all that^ was just a very long way to say, this fic, im not sure WHAT it is yet, or where the direction its going in is, but we have established permes in the modern era, the time slipping happens when percy is struggling with keeping his impending ascension at bay, and then percy deals with a hermes at his like. prime? if thats the word. having to reconcile that with the softer versions they know later.

3. The One I've Been Struggling With

i'm just gonna copy/paste some stuff from my outline, like just the first two pages. this is the most concrete fic wip i have lmao. its all very rambly bc thats how the process goes for me so sorry abt that! anyways, starts below:-

an au that is not modern times, but perhaps in the past? Ancient Greek times? So more “ancient greek minded hermes.” Or if you think there is a better alternative, that would work too, I’m all ears. Trickster god Hermes (which he is) and minor immortal(?) Percy.

i dont know what percy's situation is yet. need to figure that out

i was looking at a comic and thought, trickster god Hermes would definitely pull something like this on Percy. And then I thought, what if, trickster god Hermes, sees this one man (Percy) and falls in love with him. But this man seems to pine for a woman who doesn’t love him back, and so Hermes takes her shape. (I don’t know who this woman would be. Annabeth? It could be her, but I also love the bond Percy and Annabath have in general, she and him are incredible friends. Rachel? I loved her friendship with Percy too.)

Anyways, Hermes taking their shape made me laugh a bit because wow Percy is getting catfished by a god. And then I was like WHAT IF- Percy himself is a minor immortal like. A young nymph-ish type. A prince of Atlantis? A demigod turned prince of Atlantis? I am not sure what he is, but, I am going to use nymph as a placeholder until I figure this out. 

So sure, Percy is immortal, newly or otherwise, but he’s young and still not fully like, aware (I don’t know if that's the right word) about what it means to be immortal because he literally was born 20 years ago, which is normal mortal young man age. And Percy is like, “I’m as old as them and I want to live as them. I was them.”

His father is protective of course, he is aware of the way of the gods and how they chase pretty people. Poseidon warned him about gods, how they come and go, how he should never fall for one because loving one usually ends in tragedy or heartbreak- that to them hearts are easily won by tricks and discarded as easily. (Thinking again: mortal Percy turned immortal by marrying/mating with Hermes? Except, then I thought, Poseidon wants Percy to be immortal��if he thought Hermes showing interest and Percy reciprocating would allow for Percy to choose to be immortal he would probably begrudgingly allow it. So then….immortal Percy? Need to think)

The big Hermes reveal is when Percy is attacked or injured, or some other god shows up, and Hermes saves him but reveals his true form in the process. 

BACK TO THE PLOT!!!

Hermes was like, I will have this nymph, and that is FINAL. And Percy is kind even though he is not necessarily always NICE, (it may be ancient greek but new yorker percy is timeless) he's sweet and cares so much. he’s a hero and so loyal. he's brave and mischievous and genuinely good, and Hermes is just. Blown away, by the way Percy loves, so deep and it consumes you, to be the one Percy cares for, Hermes thinks there is no feeling like it.

Hermes tells himself that Percy can't possibly be deserving of mortal love. So what if golden haired Annabeth (placeholder for now, still dont know if we're going the annabeth route?) is a warrior who can run like the deer and loves the very woods Percy does. No, he needs a god's adoration, a force to be reckoned with at his beck and call to fulfill his every whim the way Percy himself makes others feel. If people would be loved the way Percy loves, everyone would be a god. 

I am laughing at Hermes taking the shape of Annabeth while talking to Percy, but also using the moment to talk up Hermes. Like if Percy is in his starry eyed about Annabeth phase, Annabeth wanting to have a sit down would be so exciting for him, and Hermes as Annabeth would be petty enough to be like lemme proselytize about myself, “have you heard of the great wonderful god Hermes?”

Percy being like, “Yeah my dad tells me every day, stay away from these people and then gives me a list of gods, why?”

Hermes immediately pissy

Percy is still talking, “so yeah Hermes is on the list too- why, Annabeth? Did something happen? you look...not well. Are you sick?”

Hermes, through gritted teeth, “with all due respect to... your father, I think you should hear about the god Hermes because he's not... whatever it is your dad said.”

Percy: Well, apparently the god Hermes fixates on pretty people and tries to get into their pants using trickery.

Hermes as Annabeth: CHOKES

Hermes-Annabeth: THAT IS SUCH SLANDER. I have never.... ahem, i have never heard of that about the god Hermes

^That was the first two pages. there's 11 more of me realizing writing is hard and i have commitment issues. but hopefully i finish at some point bc this is the fic ive poured some serious time in!

anyways, that was the three main fic ideas ive been tackling. i have had more that i immediately forget about, but just know, i can think about them all day!

#hermes #hermes pjo #percy jackson #permes #hermes x percy jackson #percy x hermes #percy jackson pjo #answered asks

[sandwichboiscum]

*takes in a deeeeep breath cause I've got a likely unwanted opinion heh*

So here's a bunch of ships I like for Tf2 characters (don't hate me pls) also a lot of these are about Medic. No he's not my favorite character you can't prove anything >:0

Medic/Heavy (Red Oktoberfest) Classic, they work well together and are heavily implied in the game with achievements and voice lines. They were the first ship I heard of when I joined the community.

Medic/Engie (Science Party) They both have scientific minds, and in one of the catch up comics they implant a brain into a pumpkin together. Not much to go off if, but I guess you have to be pretty close with Medic to stand him messing around with brain matter. Obviously they get along well, and one of my head canons is that they'd bond over the fact that a lot of the time they don't get acknowledged for their help.

Sniper/Spy (Bloody Suit? I think) Another classic. They seem to both appreciate being kinda alone, so why not be kinda alone together? Also, the fact that Heavies and Medics typically work together and Snipers and Spies typically work against each other makes it kinda interesting. They also don't really get thanked enough for their help. Another ship I heard of when I joined the community

Medic/Sniper (Bushmedicine) To me it makes sense. Obviously in the comics Medic brings Sniper back to life, so there's that. My head canon is that Sniper doesn't call for Medic often (that I've experienced) so I'm sure whenever Sniper gets healed he's really grateful and would do his best to help Medic, especially by helping headshot direct dangers like Heavies and other Snipers.

Soldier/Demo (Boots n Bombs) Come on. Explosions. And the fact that RED Demo and BLU Soldier are/were friends (correct me if I got the colors wrong) they seem to get along pretty well

Sniper/Spy/Medic (Support Sandwich) This one I like for a few different reasons. 1. Medic needs people to bring him down to Earth sometimes, and Sniper and Spy tend to be pretty down to Earth. 2. Sniper and Spy are like the introverts with a single brain cell, while Medic is the extrovert with no braincells. 3. Medic does understand the importance of quiet sometimes, and I headcanon that when they all feel like being quiet they'll sit together and just chill. 4. They're all Support classes (obviously) and again, they might bond over complaining that their teammates don't thank them enough

Heavy/Spy (Spoovy) I see a lot of people who ship Bushmedicine also shipping Spoovy. In my brain it makes sense. I headcanon that Spy would likely love any type of literature, and considering Heavy has a degree in Russian literature, it just logically fits together.

Ok. That concludes with my list of ships that I particularly like within the community. A lot of these I know don't have great reasoning behind them, but eh.

I know this is a COMPLETELY unwanted opinion but it has been bouncing in my brain FOREVER and I felt like I needed to get it out before I exploded. Please feel free to reblog/comment with your opinions, but at least try to be nice.

Also I'm gonna try and post another meme/art soon

#tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #science party #bloody suit #bushmedicine #boots n bombs #support sandwich #spoovy #pleeeease dont kill me for this #ok? ok. good #red oktoberfest

[theliterarywolf]

Wha what's going on with hockey players???

I'm going to go ahead and link Swell Entertainment's video on the fiasco

But, to make a long story short: BookTok Bitches Are At It Again

To make a short story long:

Apparently BookTok has reached the period of the internet where RPF (Real People Fanfic) is thriving. Though, instead of fancasting and sending messages to attractive male TikTok users because they slightly resemble the male leads in their romance book du jour, now they've latched onto the 'Hockey Erotica' subgenre of romance books and have been fancasting real hockey players as the roles and writing fanfic about real hockey players.

Again, nothing that wasn't already being done... Several years ago and more regulated (as in, it's bad enough that you're doing it but don't fucking bother the real athletes in question)

What happened here though is that there was a prominent BookTok influencer named Kierra Lewis (calling herself a self-appointed 'Queen of BookTok') who started branching into this subgenre and it's sphere on BookTok and her TikToks about it and real hockey players were essentially severe thirstposts (one went 'Do you watch sports because you like it or because of the fine men' and she was lip-syncing to someone saying 'BOTH! Capital B! Capital O! Capital A! Capital T! BOAT!')

Well... The PR team for the Seattle Kraken reached out to her --

And, going forward, I just want to say that both Kierra and the PR team are responsible for what ended up transpiring. I've seen a lot of people heap all of the blame on Kierra (which she is the prime instigator) but the PR team should have done more research on the kind of influencer she is

-- And essentially started collabing with her ('Hey, this person is passionate about Hockey! Let's get some of that passion for social media purposes!') So they ended up inviting her to one of the Kraken games and gave her a seat... Right at the ringside. This got long, so I'm putting the rest under a Read More.

Where she decided to start screeching and shouting all sorts of sexual comments about the players while they were doing warm-ups. Like when they were stretching ('AAAAHHH! THEY'RE DOING IT!'), describing her excitement in... interesting ways ('Ooh, my kitty's not used to being around this many fine men~!') and singling out one player in particular ('21!!! Can you do something for me?! CRACK MY BACK!!)

And she only eased down, not because common sense kicked in, but because people were in her comments telling her 'Honey, they can hear you'. Though her response of 'Well, when you're at the zoo, doesn't the glass cover the sounds?!?!' wasn't great...

Anywho, later on Number 21's (Alex Wennberg) wife Felicia Wennberg would go on social media to make a post about how 'okay, I was cool with the fangirling at first because, obviously my husband's a famous athlete, but some of the comments... Especially those made by certain users are kind of going too far???'

And she also incorporated discussion about the double-standards of sexual harassment (how it's pretty much universal that making unwanted sexual comments towards women is awful but it seems to be okay when the lens is turned on men).

Well! Kierra didn't like that. Tried to call out Felicia for 'singling her out and sending her followers to attack her, pulled the old 'It's just a joke, brah'... Also didn't help that the Kraken PR team eventually decided to just cold-turkey cut ties with Kierra out of the blue.

So... Yeah, a whole lot of kerfluffle caused by people who don't know how to act in public.

Made worse by the fact that Kierra herself is TWENTY-SEVEN GOD DAMNED YEARS-OLD. WOMAN, YOU KNOW BETTER!!

[thehollowwriter]

Hi! I’m very new to your blog, so I’m hoping I’m not missing any of your rules. Your writing is utterly PHENOMENAL!!!

I was hoping I could request an orange petal with a crystal cloud for Leona? If you’re comfortable writing that, of course.

Oh my, thank you so much! I'm glad you like my writing! :D

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)

One Orange Petal And One Crystal Cloud

There were few things in the world that Leona cared for. Soulmates were not one of them

He was indifferent towards the doodles appearing on his skin at first. He had a soulmate, so what? It wouldn't change a thing. He was the second prince. Unwanted and a waste.

The doodles were endearing, but meaningless. Nothing would change that.

He never expected you to come work at the palace. On top of that, he never expected you to be willing to spend time with him after figuring out he was your soulmate when his new tattoo appeared on your arm. You were very excited, and could barely hold in your happines.

Leona found you incredibly irritating at first, but it only took a few months for him to warm up to you. Your cute doodles were a contributing factor.

Of course, because the Seven refused to let him have good things, his family had firmly told him that he wouldn't interacting with you, soulmates or no. You weren't royalty.

However, Leona Kingscholar never bothered to listen to anyone. Ever. And he wasn't going to start now. Especially not for such a stupid thing.

So he would sneak you into his room for some quality time. He wouldn't admit it outright, but he liked having you around. A lot. And that was quite an achievement.

A lot of your time would be spent laying in bed, talking about whatever came to mind, and- of course- making fun of Farena. It was the best part of Leona's day.

Leona cracked a smile when he felt your weight on his bed, and he wrapped his tail around your waist. He didn't bother with opening his eyes. He knew it was you.

"Ugh, it's too hot." You muttered. Leona huffed. "Weakling." You jabbed him and and he grinned. "You're mean." "I know."

You leaned against him and stared our the window. "Y'know we should go outside sometime. In secret. We'd be evil sneaky people." "I'm sure." "It would be nice to just get a coffee together." "Yeah." "...You're trying to sleep now aren't you?" "Yup."

You rolled your eyes and shoved a pillow in his face. "Still so mean." You said, pouting. "I should just l-"

The sound of the doorknob turning interrupted you and you froze- too panicked to react. In a sudden burst of energy, Leona grabbed you and pulled you off the bed, urging you to scramble under it.

You obeyed, and curled up into a ball while your soulmate went to deal with the "intruder".

A scowl etched onto Leona's face and he glowered at his brother, irritation speaking loud and clear.

"What do you want, Farena?"

Farena sighed tiredly, and forced a smile, even though his brother was a very depressing person to be around.

"I just came to check up on you. Are you doing your homework? I don't want you to get held back again?"

Leona rolled his eyes so hard they might as well have popped out if his head.

"I'm not a child. I'll deal with it when the time comes, now get out and leave me be."

Farena hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly, closing the door and letting out and audible groan on the other side.

Leona rolled his eyes once more before turning and collapsing onto his bed.

"You can come out now."

At his mutter, you clambered out from under the bed and buried yourself under the blankets.

"I think you should do your homework to be honest."

You got a tail swatting your face in response.

"Don't even start."

You chuckled. "All right fine. We'll nap, then?"

"Yeah that's good with me."

"But then you'll do your homework."

"No."

-END

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

A/N: @incomplete-chaos1317 I am so sorry for the wait I've been very busy. Also this is my second time writing Leona so please have mercy on me, everyone.

#twisted wonderland x reader #savanclaw x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #soulmate au #twst soulmate au #200 Followers Event

[irregularcollapse]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @ilgaksu <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

3! lmao

Once upon a time, it was more. I'm not sure how many, though.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

237,233 - and most of that is one fic.

What fandoms do you write for?

At the moment, apparently I'm writing for Captive Prince.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Well I've only got 3 ;)))

So, ranked:

even in another time (Damen/Laurent - Captive Prince) On holiday with his brother in Ios, Laurent bathes in a hot spring. Unfortunately, he drowns. Even more unfortunately, when he surfaces somehow, he finds himself thrust back in time. Dropped into the middle of a mythologised ancient war for the Akielon throne, he is determined to get back to the modern day - even after ending up kidnapped (or perhaps rescued) by the rightful King, Damianos.

there is no end (Damen/Laurent - Captive Prince) After the events of even in another time, Laurent and Damen take the opportunity to go on a trip—a honeymoon of sorts—to the modern world. Brothers are met, books are launched, and another first is experienced.

in the crooks of your body, i find my religion (Adam/Ronan - The Dreamer Trilogy) Under the watchful eye of a nosy bartender, Ronan Lynch has a first date with Adam Parrish. It isn't exactly what he had been expecting.

I know what WOULD be my highest kudos, if I still had all my fic on AO3. But I don't, so this is how it is hahaha

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

This is where my answer is the complete opposite to ilgaksu's, almost. I used to be a lot better at it. I would really try to write something in response to every comment, even on multichap fics. But my life has changed, and my health has changed, and sometimes it isn't always feasible. I find the AO3 inbox sort of unwieldy and it's hard for me to navigate sometimes. I find it much easier to respond to asks on tumblr, which is why I also try to encourage readers to find me here too. Fic writing can feel sort of one-sided and demanding at times, especially when you've put many hours of work and thought into something and people just... absorb it, and don't even say thanks.

I personally don't read fic much (I'm a hypocrite, I know) but on the rare occasion I'm in the mood for it, I try to leave a comment. And I do really try to respond to, if not every individual comment, then every commenter in some capacity.

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't write angsty endings. I have previously done oneshots with purposefully open/unresolved endings, but I wouldn't consider those angsty.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Without a doubt even in another time. Even comparing to my old fics, which all had pretty joyful romcom endings on the whole, this one is like... epic happy ending. Just everything about claiming yourself as a person, recognising your own strengths, finding your destiny, eternal love... it had it all!

Do you get hate on fics?

Nah. I've had some comments that were like, proofreading/editing suggestions. Once someone literally commented like "you really need to proofread before you post" lmao it was some meaningless oneshot, I was like, I'm literally not here for perfection right now. Sometimes it's a genuinely helpful correction (factual error, a glaring mistake) in which case, have at it, but mostly I don't want it and it can actually be quite hurtful. BUT I wouldn't consider that hate, just sort of... well-intentioned but still unwanted overstepping.

I did receive an anonymous comment that told me to stop posting forever and disappear, with a strong suggestion that I should just die. That was actually unrelated to my fics, and was motivated by some of my posts on tumblr getting popular in fandom and some people getting really upset with me. Rather than asking me to clarify my points (which they had misinterpreted), or just blocking me, they made posts about me and sent me some quite harassing anons on here, and left that really horrible comment on one of my most popular fics. So I deleted them all, and deleted all content from that fandom from my blog, and didn't write fic (or anything at all) for a really long time. I don't get actively involved with fandom because of that experience. It certainly wasn't unique to that particular fandom - I see it happening now, and even worse - but it really fucked me up. I still have a hard time enjoying the source material it was related to, and I really don't like talking about those fics or that fandom.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. I didn't in the past, and when I did it was sort of... ambiguous, fade-to-black type stuff, because that was what I thought fit those fandoms or what I was writing (mostly romcoms) in a tonal sense. But now I'm writing for CaPri, which is historical erotic romance, so I'm unleashing it all. Really leaning into something I like to call "character development through erotica" lmao

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Nope! They don't really interest me.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. However, I am aware that there is a downloaded copy of one of my old popular fics being circulated without my permission. It made me very uncomfortable when I found out. I wish they had asked me first. But I've decided to be super I do not see it. I can't read suddenly about it all.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, not that I know of! I'm so open to it though <3

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Controversial but I think my favourite ships are the ones I love so much that I'm too scared to write them. I tried writing some Eve/Villanelle and it just didn't feel correct. I would do SUCH a shit job of writing Buffy/Faith. There are more and I'm so intimidated by people who do them well.

What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I actually don't not finish fics lmaoooo

So even on my previous AO3 account, I always finished a multichap fic. And now, my new approach is to finish writing before posting (or almost finish writing before posting). [hoards of fic writers booing in the distance]

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. Humour. Character voice. Awareness of tone, extending into genre awareness.

What are your writing weaknesses?

PLOTTING. PACING. Fuck me I just have no perspective on the passage of time more often than not. Describing action/movement. Consistency (my memory is not the best sometimes, so I easily forget details between scenes, but that's solved by an astute beta and solid proofreading/editing). OVER EXPLANATION.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Hmmm I don't know. On the fence. It probably depends on the context, if the POV character speaks the language, what the purpose of the other language is, etc. etc.

First fandom you wrote for?

I think it was The Raven Cycle, and then Captain America, and then the bulk of my stuff was for a webcomic/graphic novel.

Favorite fic you’ve written?

It has to be EIAT, without question. It was my first time writing in a sustained way since around 2019 (due to illness and then treatment), and came to represent a recovery at long last from residual chemo brain. Even if it weren't indulgent, and even if I wasn't proud of the writing (baby's first fantasy work! With world-building! And a bona fide plot!), it would still be my favourite for that reason alone. But I think it's going to be usurped by my current WIP, a gothic romance AU (also partially inspired by Crimson Peak! And other stuff, but yesss Crimson Peak!) in which I am including everything I love about gothic fiction, and then some.

I'll tag @altruistic-meme and @castironnbitch and @annundriel (hello beloved mutual who I don't share fandoms with any more hahahaha)

#my writing #asks

[strawhatsoraya]

Hello! I could request headcanons for Ace, Law and Zoro being full aware for the first time they're are very attractive? Maybe later they try to use it for first time to flirt with their crush. I know it's a weird ask but i always found really funny that three look like ignorance of his own appeal to women (and probably men too ;) )

Hey Anon! I know it's been a hot minute (or several hundred hot minutes) but I got your little headcanons right here. I hope you stuck around long enough to see this. I'm sorry for the delay. I've been very busy this past month which makes my writing even slower than usual. I think these characters would know they're attractive to some degree lol BUT let's say they didn't!! So this is a little "what if..." scenario.

ONE PIECE BOYS REALIZING THEY'RE ATTRACTIVE

Portgas D. Ace

He doesn't know when it happened. In fact, he never realized it before—how much his self image had taken a toll.

He heard so many unpleasant comments growing up that left him feeling unwanted, unneeded.

So when he grows up, he doesn't think too much about his looks.

He finds confidence instead in his strength, and in his adventures. Every accomplishment making him feel greater and bigger than before.

His fashion sense leaves a lot to be desired. He wears what is comfortable, or sentimental without further thought into it.

So when a random person at the island they were stopped in complimented his looks Ace was taken aback.

They said he had 'a face you could never forget' and at first he thought it was an insult.

So he challenged them to explain, when they—panicked—insisted it was a compliment, and it meant that he had good looks and charm, Ace was mind-blown.

It took him several minutes to get the cogs back in his brain going but once they did there was a full body blush taking over him. All this time he had no idea and all this time he had been hesitant to approach you.

With his newfound confidence in his appearance and not his physical strength, Ace takes the initiative. It was now or never.

His attempt at flirting is laughable. You do your best not to do it outright however, partially because you don't want to hurt his feelings and partially because you're actually left feeling bashful.

It was a clumsy attempt but seeing the blush on your cheeks was enough to satisfy him. Maybe he wasn't too late after all.

Trafalgar D. Law

There was never time to think about his appearance, much less compare it to others.

The last time he even worried over such a thing was when he was a child and sick with Amber Lead Syndrome and for very different reasons.

His life had led him down many roads, and he used people as he saw fit; a means to an ends.

In the back of his mind, he was aware of his charisma and maybe—his looks somehow contributed. He was never too sure.

It isn't until you compliment the tattoo on his chest, and place a warm hand against it that he considers, for a very brief moment, that you find him attractive.

You look up at him through your lashes, lips slightly parted—and he uses your moment of distraction to test his theory almost immediately.

He reaches out to place a hand over yours, keeping it against his chest, and swoops in towards your face.

“You like my tattoo,” he asks you as a crooked grin stretches his lips. His breath fanning your cheeks. “Or what's underneath it?”

You flush furiously and he can't help but chuckle. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed—or rather—forgotten that by many standards he was considered attractive. He made a mental note to take advantage of it in the future, multiple times, especially when it came to you.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro lives his life straight like an arrow—shooting forward, and never looking back. He is focused, and determined.

His lifestyle leaves no room to wonder about shallow things such as appearances. He barely pays attention to the appearance of others. It simply just doesn't captivate him.

But something about you does—maybe it's your stubbornness, or the way you're always so loud. How else was he supposed to ignore you?

All he knows is that he heard you compliment the stupid ero-cook on his equally stupid attire. He heard you call him handsome, and stylish.

What exactly was handsome about him? And not Zoro? What exactly made him stylish? The stupid tie? Zoro could wear a tie too if he wanted to.

Except he didn't own any ties, or any shirts that would go with a tie. He barely owned shirts as it was.

He considers asking Nami for a loan, so he can maybe buy a damn tie but she would ask him what the money was for and Zoro simply didn't have enough shamelessness to survive her teasing.

He spends days chewing over this, grinding his teeth at night so hard he would wake up with a sore jaw.

One day Robin inadvertently gives him a glimmer of hope by telling him blue looked good on him, as he wore the one navy blue shirt he owned. It was sleeveless and apparently, per Robin, made his arms look attractive.

She hadn't called him stylish or handsome but he'd take it. Feeling high off the adrenaline, and stupidly bold, he smiles crookedly at you as you join the table. He flexes a bicep before he addresses you next: “What do you think? Attractive or not?”

You laugh, taken aback by the sudden inquiry, but seeing the crestfallen look on his face you quickly amend: “Very attractive, Big Muscle Man. I like your shirt.”

#fic request #one piece headcanons #one piece ace #one piece zoro #one piece law #one piece fanfiction #one piece hcs

[endworldbroadcast]

'Being liked' is difficult, but not nearly as much as 'liking somebody else'. Since I tend not to feel anything towards individual people, I'm not incentivised to interact with them.

Every once in a while I find somebody I do like—maybe not 'intensely' compared to how it works for most people but relative to my usual emotions, it's definitely worth noting.

I think the times I successfully got 'what I want' (in terms of our relationship dynamic), I could count on one hand. Throughout my entire life! That's a long time since I'm older than most of the demographic here. lol.

Every other time ends badly, or rather the other person doesn't have any interest in me and doesn't say or do anything with me.

I think this is not an unusual problem, even if I have 'eccentricities' that make the nature of how it presents for me unusual. Still, 'the people I like don't want to talk to me' is run-of-the-mill among the socially inept and socially adept at like.

However, I think there's this sort of... discrepancy, I suppose, or a difficulty for the latter to imagine how the former work. I've noticed the latter sometimes act (unintentionally) that people are... interchangeable?

What I mean is, whenever friendly people try to give advice or reassurance on the matter, it's always approaching from the premise that you should make a friend, it doesn't really matter who. Even derisive comments made about people who either can't hold relationships or simply don't want to focus a lot on this more generic aspect of having 'nobody'.

I can't really articulate it properly but sometimes it feels like arguing when you're not even on the same book, much less the same page. I understand the rationale for it sometimes [ eg some socially inept people may be lonely enough to want 'anybody' ] but I'm surprised at how much sociable people never seem to acknowledge or even remember that in many cases people don't want to 'settle' for 'anybody', there are real individual people that the socially inept are interested in, and those people don't reciprocate.

I'm not saying they have to, just that this is a different issue from not engaging with 'just anyone', so conversation about the latter often misses the mark.

And honestly, I wonder why it happens this way? The 'lack of reciprocation from individuals' is sometimes acknowledged for romance, so maybe it's another issue of 'friendship' being subtextually viewed as shallow and mile-a-million, despite overt claims to the contrary.

A more mean-spirited but not baseless way of viewing it is I think people who have always had somebody in their corner have a very difficult time imagining people who have no social circles, or do so in constrained ways [ eg 'Certainly it couldn't have been like that forever, maybe this is just a phase of your life because of the circumstances,' 'You have people you get along with, you're just underplaying how close you guys really are,' 'You're Edgy Emo Posturing, do you think that makes you Special?' ]. A different but tangentially related topic is this phenomena I've observed of not making strong distinctions between being hated, unloved and unwanted, ergo, when you report to a debilitating lack of relationships, I think this is often interpreted in the lens of persecution—a lot of people hate you (or you think they do). 'Socially inept people' are those weird nerdy freaks that get picked on by the popular kids and get stuffed in lockers.

Not to suggest that solitude isn't correlated to being mistreated (and in turn correlated to eccentricity), but there just seems to be very little said about people whose situations are just... being alone, plain and simple.

#d #schizoid tag #schizoposting #I'll concede maybe my reasons for social incompetence are too specific to me to make for any meaningful discussion

[veliseraptor]

1, 2, and 18 if you please !

What is your most popular fic?

Far and away it's Life in Reverse, which isn't that surprising. Though I did go and check if that was still the case, since for a while there With Absolute Splendor was actually gaining on it despite being newer, and it is definitely the closest by a long shot to beating out LiR (9.8k kudos vs. 13.3k kudos). I don't think it ever will, though.

What fanfic do you wish you got more response on?

Oh, many. I've got a whole "Author's Favorites" series now, and many of those are fics that are already fairly popular, but many of them are not. I feel like most of the fics I wish I got more response on are the ones for small fandoms, so those are kind of...inherently going to get less of a response. Before I was in megafandoms that was fine but now I've been kind of spoiled.

(Not actually but there is a little part of me that's like. "but where are all the Doctrine of Labyrinths fic commenters. :( surely there are so many of them out there.")

I really like That Unwanted Animal and relative to some of my other Yi City fic it gets less attention. The other one I'll pull out as a wildcard is The Sad Heart of Ruth, which is about Jeyne Westerling post-Red Wedding, and I've always been very fond of it but I don't think a lot of other people are as obsessed with grief and mourning fic as I am, and also for some reason Jeyne/Robb as a very doomed ship.

Recommend someone else fic! (And tag them if they have a tumblr!)

I always have a hard time with this because. Just one? I have over 1,000 bookmarks on AO3 and that's not counting the WIPs I'm subscribed to.

I'll go ahead and for this one recommend The Weight of Kindness by @xpityx, whose fic I mostly know for really tasty Bingjiu (driveby rec!) but ran into this Trigun one and very much enjoyed, in a grabby-hands I want moooore sort of way.

#conversating #ender manly #lise memes #fic rec