#i’ve been having a hard time adjusting...i have a lot of regrets about that.....

[jihyoruri]

OBVIOUS bada lee x reader

warnings: yn is a member of twice, everybody is out here embarrassing yn, fluff

yn leaned into her seat as she watched the dancers, she was so focused that she didn’t even realize monika lean over to her.

“yn.” she whispers, the twice member hums in response her attention still ahead of her, “she was staring at you hard.”

that’s what gets yn’s attention, she snaps her head towards her fellow judge, “who?” she whispers back.

“you know who.” the girl whispers back as yn looks at her confused, she really didn’t know who monika was talking about. “you’ve been keeping your eyes on her the whole time as well.”

yn tenses finally realizing who monika was talking about, she turned her gaze back in front of her, “I’ve been keeping my eyes on everyone.” she replies, shrugging nonchalantly.

“oh, right..” monika trails off nonchalantly, “so you haven’t been taking quick glances at that tall one over there, what’s her name again?” she asks sarcastically.

“bada.” yn replies quickly before cursing at herself as monika’s smile grows big.

monika raises her brow teasingly as yn shakes her head, “shut up, leave me alone.”

“does the great yn have a crush?” monika whispers, laughing to herself as yn shakes her head, “or is it the other way around, cause she’s been staring a lot.”

it was true, of course yn didn’t notice much because she was focused on the other girls, well at least tried to, but monika noticed, she noticed how the dancer stared at yn when she was introduced as a judge and how she always took glances at yn when she wasn’t looking.

yn glared at her before letting out a deep sigh, “you’re talking out of your ass.” she said adjusting herself in her seat, “how about instead of being the person that causes me stress, focus on the dancers, and think about what you’re gonna say.”

“oh I definitely know why you wanna focus on the dancers.” monika teases as she looked ahead of her to see the main topic of the conversation come to the middle. “look at her all tall for you.”

yn looked down in her lap, trying her best not to burn into flames, she’s really regretting taking up momo’s suggestion for this,“how about you shut up and watch kirsten and bada dance for us, please and thank you.” yn says softly, she loves monika but gosh does she love to tease yn.

“one of them is definitely dancing for you.” she teases again before shutting up and putting her attention towards the two girls in front of them.

yn felt monika side eyeing her the whole time as they watched the girls dance but she kept a poker face, there was no way she was letting a tall attractive girl get in her way of her being the “intimidating judge.” that she wanted to be.

even though her face and demeanour didn’t fit the part, yn was always pretty serious when it came to dance, she never even held back when it came to correcting her members, she was always stern and straightforward and yn was proud to say a dancer has never made her flustered or tripped up.

well…

not until now.

when the two girls finished dancing, everyone clapped and cheered for them, the judges stood up, monika making sure to grab yn’s arm pulling her to stand up with her as they clapped, as she cheered she leaned over to yn muttering a “your face is red.”

yn forced a smile as she clapped but her eyes told it all when she side eyed monika as they proceeded to sit back down.

yn zooned out for a little, her gaze set on the dancer in the racer jacket, but was snapped out of her daze, when she hears bada’s name being called and cheers filling her ears.

she nodded and smiled as her fellow judges talked and praised bada completely forgetting that she’s gonna have to talk soon.

as soon monika finished what she said she turned her attention to yn with a neutral look but yn could see the mischief in her eyes, monika nodded towards yn as a way of saying your turn making everyone else turn and look at the twice member.

yn looked ahead of herself making direct eye contact with the dancer before clearing her throat and looking back down at her lap and picking up her microphone, “hold on wait one sec.” she says making everyone laughs at her flustered state.

“you look a little red yn.” mike says pointing to yn’s face making everyone laugh even more, including the person who caused this whole thing.

yn shakes her head in embarrassment before bringing the mic to her lips, “bada..” she starts, “you stood out to me very fast.”

“I was like oh my gosh who’s this girl.” yn continues, finally having the confidence to keep her eye contact with the girl, “but now I definitely know who this girl is wow.” yn says brightly gesturing up and down with her hands at the dancer as bada bows at her.

“you’re already killing the game and showing people how much of a good dancer you are and I can’t wait to see more of you.” yn finishes smiling at bada who thanks her as everyone claps.

“wow! I’ve never seen you praise someone so much yn.” monika says shaking one of yn’s shoulders, it was both true and wrong, yn will praise anyone for doing the bare minimum when it comes to rapping and singing but with dance it takes the person a lot for her to be so praiseful.

“do you have a favourite already?” she jokes, laughing when yn rests her head on her mic as everyone once again laughs at her, she shakes her head when she feels mike pat her shoulder as a sense of comfort as he joins in on the laughs.

this is gonna be a long season.

yn walks through the hall her face deep in her phone as she texts nayeon ranting about how all her fellow judges embarrassed her today.

yn was to into her phone to realize the tall figure walking in front of her, but she’s hit with the harsh reality when she slams right into the dancers back.

yn tenses as she looks up from her phone, turning it off quickly before putting it away, “I’m so sorry”

the girl looked down at her brushing her apology off, “nah it’s okay.”

yn feels multiple buzzes from her phone and takes it out, “well, I’ll see you around.” she says quickly before walking past bada.

“whoa wait.” the taller girl said as she pulled yn back, “you seemed pretty flustered earlier.” she says to yn pulling the girl closer to her.

“I wouldn’t say flustered…” yn trails off looking into the side.

“umm” bada hums in faux understanding tone, “I’m a pretty big fan of twice you know?”

“oh, thank you.” yn says awkwardly.

“and I think it would be cool to hang out with my bias sometime.”

yn nods before shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t think I’m aloud to hang out with contestants, you never know what they’re really hanging out with you for.”

“nobody has to know.” bada says as she leans against the wall.

“sorry, I’m not the type to get in trouble.” yn says before turning around and proceeding to walk away.

she feels a presence walking behind and an arm thrown around her shoulder, “you know, I don’t appreciate my girlfriend rejecting me and acting like she doesn’t know me.” bada says teasingly as she looks down at yn and pulls her into her side.

yn laughs feeling her face heat up as she leans into the taller girls side, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“you’re not my girlfriend anymore? is this how you break up with me?” bada jokes as she takes arm from around yn and pretends to walk away.

yn laughs as she grabs the taller girls arm and pulls her back to her, “okay okay, im joking.” she says wrapping her arms around bada’s mid, “you did good today.”

“thank you.” bada replies putting her chin on top of yn’s head, “you coming to my place.”

“I’m meeting up with nayeon unnie.”

“then come over to night.”

“that’s what I was planning on.”

“good.”

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter #twice #girl group imagines #fluff

[twinfools]

I’m 3 years post phalloplasty and I realized I’ve never really made a post about how things are going. Phalloplasty is a hard surgery to talk about because, bottom line, it’s not part of common conversation to talk about yo dick. That being said I think it’s really important for me to talk about this procedure to help break stigma and misinformation— both inside and outside of trans and non-binary communities.

I had ALT phalloplasty, glansplasty, scrotoplasty, no urethral lengthening (UL) with vaginectomy. This means that tissue from my thigh was used to create my penis, my urethra was not extended or moved (so I don’t stand to pee) and my vagina was closed. I feel like this detail is important because this is one of many variations for this procedure and what I opted for/out of were decisions made according to trade-offs between personal benefit and risk.

I opted out of UL because I do not tolerate catheters well and, due to my very active lifestyle, was not willing to risk longer term catheterization or bladder spasms which would impede my quality of life. This risk, for me, outweighed the benefit of standing to pee.

I opted for ALT knowing that I would likely need debulking (which I didn’t end up needing but opted for anyway out of preference). Debulking is a procedure to make the penis less girthy as ALT phalloplasty is more girthy because of the nature of tissue on the thigh. I chose ALT because, first and foremost, I did not want scarring on my forearm. My ALT scar is covered by clothing most of the time which I appreciate. I also chose ALT because I have skinny forearms, which wasn’t ideal for forearm phalloplasty (RFF).

Vaginectomy, for me, was a no brainer. I have never used or connected with that part of my body so I wanted it gone.

Glansplasty is a procedure to make the glans (head) of the penis and was a short procedure done after my initial stage of surgery. I may get it redone but I’m still undecided on that. Scrotoplasty creates a scrotum, I was ambivalent about this procedure but have grown to more appreciate it over time.

I am considering further surgeries: erectile implant (which creates the ability for the penis to “get hard”) and testicular implants (fills to scrotum with testicle implants). But I’m undecided and want a break from surgery while I finish my degree and focus on work. I’m also considering phalloplasty tattooing to help enhance the contour and coloring to make it appear more like a cis penis.

Whew! Lots of info, right? These are big procedures completed over multiple stages and are very unlike chest surgery, hysterectomy and other surgeries I had completed prior. When I was first considering this surgery I didn’t know there was flexibility in terms of tissue donor site and UL. I waited to have this surgery and am so happy I did because the information I gained from research and consulting with professionals and folks with lived experience was so valuable.

Was surgery hard? Yes. This surgery was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I’ve never been so uncomfortable for the first 2 weeks after recovering. I had to re-learn how to walk. I couldn’t sleep. Peeing hurt… but would I do it again? Yes. It was worth it for me but I can’t underscore enough that that doesn’t mean I didn’t have moments where I felt regret while recovering because post op depression is a thing and I was in pain while adjusting to a new body part that was also a healing surgical site… LOTS going on there!

3 years on I feel really at home in my body. Just having a penis is such a comfort to me in ways I didn’t anticipate. I’ve had a feeling my entire life that I was missing a body part and this was it. The quiet gender euphoria of just sitting and feeling my body and for once feeling complete in that is something that’s hard to articulate.

I’m thankfully back to full mobility and got back to full mobility about 3 months post op. I was grateful for this since a long term recovery wasn’t what I wanted. There are still weird twitches, pains and feelings, especially around my donor site (thigh) from time to time but nothing that inhibits me. Just interesting when it happens (usually when weather gets colder?).

What is one thing I would want to go back and tell myself before surgery? Well:

Your penis will feel HEAVY. Like it will fall off. It won’t fall off and your body will adjust to the weight in an area you didn’t have it before. Until then it will feel like you need to hold it at all times.

Hopefully this helps someone as an overview of what an experience with this procedure may look like. Again, my goal is to put information out there and have frank conversations— because it’s these same things that greatly benefitted me in my surgery journey.

Finally— my inbox is open for anyone that has questions. I am in a privileged position to feel safe talking about these things and I feel comfortable doing so. Not everyone does, so please don’t assume that this invitation applies to other folks who have accessed surgery unless they say so.

Thank you for reading :)

#ftm #phalloplasty #surgery #trans #transition #transgender #trans man #trans guy #gender affirming surgery #phallo

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (XIX): This Is Me Trying.

Imagine Aemond Targaryen imprisons you during the late civil war.

Warnings: long post, drama, angst, light smut, fluff ending.

***

• Before the War.

I've been having a hard time adjusting. I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back. I have a lot of regrets about that…

When Aemond meets you again circumstances are about to erupt in an event that most involved wish to prevent. He’s lost an eye, and though for gaining something more important, his pride never amended for the loss.

You, on the other hand, are his cousin via his uncle Daemon’s first marriage to Lady Rhea Arryn. In theory, you should be ruler of that House, but women hold no rights there so that is why you are there with your family.

With your dark hair and darker eyes, you attract your cousins’s attention. It’s a week before the fatidic dinner when he spots you, dressed in dark blue, ignoring the rising tensions between the already formed green and black parties.

“You look as if this is the place you wouldn’t want to be”, you hear him address you.

In all fairness, last time you’ve been there he was a child and so were you. Hardly surprising it is to find the quiet boy a taller and handsome man.

“Lord Aemond”, you smile when recollecting his name. “It’s been years…”

“Indeed. Many events have transcurred since we last spoke, Lady Arryn”, he side smirks, eyeing you intently, pleased to make you blush.

As children, you were playmates before your father remarried to Lady Laena of House Velaryon. She took you as one of her own and under her care you remained until she came to past away. And then your father espoused Princess Rhaenyra, whom also took you as her daughter.

And here you are.

“They have, yes”, you nod, transfixed by his enigmatic presence. “I’m sorry about your eye. I wasn’t there when this happened.”

“You’d think I didn’t notice?”, he raises his eyebrow. “Where have you been?”

Silence hangs in between the two of you. Aemond resents your absence, how out of reach you’ve been when you were once close. How on earth have you become strangers?

You look down at your wrung hands, but when carefully lifting your gaze you still find his good eye glued on you, trying to understand you.

“I tried to reclaim my inheritance at the Eyrie right after my stepmother’s decease. I couldn’t do so earlier as I was too young, but now…”

“Are you their lady now?”, Aemond softens.

You smile almost unconsciously as the tension between you two dissipate and the prince leads you to the gardens.

“No. They accept no woman as their overlord”, you sigh. “My father doesn’t take it nicely, though. He intends to reclaim it on my behalf, refusing the proposal of my maternal uncle.”

“Oh?”, he furrows his eyebrows, fearful of the response. “What that’d be?”

As you two move towards the gardens, you barely notice how your arm slides to his, distance now shorter than before.

“Marriage. What other proposal would be?”

Aemond chuckles lightly, but you spot no amusement in his good eye.

“It is the way, is it not?”

“For us women, usually is. A duty that requires plenty of sacrifices.”

As he looks at you, Aemond doesn’t resist the urge of asking:

“What would you be prepared to sacrifice, lady Y/N?”

As you two lock gazes, you are reminded of the time spent together. As children, you were both so alike in temperament, in likes and thoughts. What has changed now?

You open your mouth, but you do not know what to say. Aemond gently parts of you, hands behind his back, expectation somewhat filling behind his good eye.

He knows the answer. He can tell by your heavy breathing, the light shake of your hands, how your bottom lip trembles… what will come out. Sensibility rises behind your coal eyes like darkness pulls him into it.

He waits.

You won’t say it. You won’t say it.

But you do.

“You.”

To your dismay, the prince smiles. Taking your hand in his, he says:

“I’ve always thought about you. I’m glad you haven’t forsaken me, Y/N.”

You blush, moving your gaze instantly away. A torrent of words are being held back. Aemond, who knows you so well, gently makes you look at him.

“Do not slip out of me. I ask you this.”

“Even though I am the elder sister of the twins who attacked you?”

Aemond chuckles.

“No one is perfect.”

That being said, he takes your hand and there presses a kiss.

***

• The Dinner.

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout. Could've followed my fears all the way down and maybe I don't quite know what to say…

Right before the expected meeting at the King’s table for the evening meal in a familiar gathering, you are found at Lord Aemond’s company. You see he’s been acting weirdly, even though nothing on his face betrayals it.

“Why are you in a glooming mood?”, you inquire, your face rested in his lap, looking up at him as his long hand strokes your hair.

“I am not”, he says in a dismissive tone. “This is who I am, you know.”

“Do not play me a fool, Aemond”, you stand reluctantly, but never too far of his grasp.

Aemond likes how wild your hair is, mirroring a tempest that is forming behind your eyes as you stare at him. He strokes your face, prompted to succumb to his desires if circumstances were different.

“Will you force me speak my mind?”

“If I must, yes”, you narrow your eyes.

Again, he chuckles.

“You can be stubborn when you want to be, Y/Nickname.”

“A trait you also have, if I recall well.”

Aemond leans so close to you now that you fear you are about to lose your balance. Especially when his lips are pressed against your forehead, there lingering in a gentle, but intense kiss that spreads fire over your body.

A sentiment that you think wise to ignore.

But when his slander hands slip from your face to your long hair, resting around your waist, you find yourself holding your breath.

“Always beautiful, my sweet Y/N. I could never let go of you, nor hold you accountable of others’ sin.”

You realize the feud between him and your half siblings are deeper than you’d judged.

“My sweet”, you hold his face gently. “Do not feed these grudges. I understand the pain of losing what is dear to you, by no chances I mean to demove you of this sentiment. However, vengeance is not changing what happened.”

It is as if you are twins, one knowing the other so well, able to feel what other feels, to think what the other thinks. As if your soul is made of the same material as his.

Even if where he is fire and you are water, a perfect mix has always tied each other.

“Aemond…”

He takes your hands and there presses a kiss.

“Come, we better not get late to the dinner.”

To your disappointment, Aemond stands, waiting for you to take the arm he offers you. But the moment you take it, it feels as if you are growing apart.

***

“Where have you been?”, your father asks you the moment you slide to your chair, next to Baela’s seat.

“By a certain somebody’s side”, you hear your half-sister grumble.

“Would you please mind your own business?”, you snort at her.

“Girls”, interferes Rhaenyra. “This is not the place nor the time.”

“Indeed it is not”, agrees Daemon. “And I pray you have not been randomly wandering around with him again.”

You raise your gaze only to meet your father’s inexpressible pair of lilac eyes studying you. Praying you are able to hold back your emotions enough not to blush, you smirk.

“Oh please, father. As far as it may be difficult for you to accept, I have other companions to spend my time with besides my relatives”, you lie blatantly at his face.

“Right… If that is what you are telling me, I have no need to preoccupy myself then”, he reclines back at his chair, ignoring how the small conversation has captured Aemond’s attention.

Though he sits at the other side of the table, the prince monitors you. He can tell you are lying by how you close your first around the glass, how you cast your eyes to the plate, chewing your bottom lip nervously.

He can tell you are upset at some sibling provocation by the blush that paints your cheeks and the air of impatience that makes you roll your eyes. The discomfort at it is crystal clear as you feel an outsider as your twin sisters talk nonsenses with the Velaryon boys.

You do not belong there. Your looks outstand the Targaryen looks, that itself makes you uncomfortable. He wishes he could tell you many great things—amongst which the depth of his affections for you.

As you raise your eyes, you meet his gaze and for the first time during the dinner both of you smile. He wishes to reach out for you. But then something changes.

It all happens very fast. The food and mutual implication of Aemond’s loss of an eye lead him to subtly stand.

“I would like to have a toast…”

You barely blink. Tension is in the air and you see by their faces that everyone is holding their breaths.

You know Aemond is up to no good. You try to convince him not doing what he’s about to, suspecting this has something to do with his long standing rivalry with the Velaryon boys.

To your disappointment and not entirely surprise, vengeance takes his best. Aemond sees the moment he speaks unwanted words how aghast you look.

“…for these three Strong boys.”

And what happens next prevents him to reach out for you again.

***

• War.

Wind howls violently at the top of the hill. You stare at your dragon with silver eyes and black scams. It’s time, you know it.

Your hair is tied in a long braid and you dress for your first battle at this disgrace war that has been waged since your sweet prince has caused the death of your half-brother.

You could not forgive him for this atrocity, even if part of you doesn’t buy the narrative that Aemond chased Lucerys and purposely ended with his life. You recall how that day you and Rhaena entered in a fight because you were accused to stand for such a kinslayer, an accusation you refused to absolve her for.

“Are you sure you are ready to do it?”, you hear the voice of your father not long as you prepare to mount your flying beast.

Clouds clash, resulting in electric storms. Not the most propitious skies to fly. Daemon looks at you with fatherly concern, reading in your impulsiveness the need of proving your worth.

“I ask you not to fight this war unless it’s absolutely needed to. You should not do it because of your sisters. What Rhaena has said to you…”

“I care naught about what she said”, you turn your head at him. “This isn’t about me or her, but our cause. I will not disappoint you, my father. You’ll be proud of me.”

“I am already proud of you”, says Daemon with his greeted teeth. “I see myself in you. There is no need to have Targaryen looks to be one. You have the dragon blood in you, Y/N. Listen to me, this is not the time…”

“I am a woman now, father. As capable as anyone else to stand for the Queen.”

You swallow your tears, smashing your childhood fears down to your throat. And you fly with your dragon without further waiting, wishing to wipe off your thoughts the nights spent with Aemond at the library or running the corridors or when each confided insecurities to the other.

You wish you had not in mind the envy you felt when seeing your twin sisters sharing the Targaryen looks. You wish you were not mocked upon because of that.

You rise, aiming to fly higher. And your dragon feels your angst, howling through the air. As electric as it is, you seem immune to it.

But of course when you play the game of thrones you either win or die. What shall be the destiny gods hold to you?

Nothing of it comes to your thoughts when you spot Aegon, the Usurper, mounting his dragon. He flies right against you. The battle scene is prepared and you promptly join it.

The dragons dance and your temper takes the best of your reasoning. Nevertheless you hold the advantage of having a dragon bigger than Aegon’s.

But inexperienced.

A fault that will come at you when Aegon commands his dragon to fly right into you. It’s a violent battle to see. He tries to attack you wearing his sword, but his blows are useless.

So suddenly you wish you have heard your father. You are not prepared to fight your cousin on your own. And when a greater dragon casts its shadow below, you have realized you fell to a trap.

***

Aemond doesn’t take pride in taking you with him as his prisoner. Your silence is a harder blow to take, unprepared he was to face it.

“Do not, I ask you, make these matters worse to you.”

He takes you to Harrenhal with him, reclaiming you as his war prize, against his brother’s will, who certainly had other plans for his uncle’s daughter.

You are still processing the trauma of losing your dragon to those beasts you share your blood with. Perhaps it’s not a misfortune to look such an Arryn this time.

You answer him not. Aemond knows this is a difficult battle to fight—and what’s worse, his conscience tells him this is the result of his doing.

“You shall stay in these chambers”, Aemond tells you. “It used to belong to…”

He’d say these were his mistress Alys’ bedchambers before she came to pass after a hard labor, but to avail should he remind you that he supplanted you in his affections?

Or did he plan to say so as a form to plague you with remorse for daring to fight his brother alone?

Such thoughts are slipping out of his mind before the sight of your distress, already plagued by traumas of a war… caused by him.

“To your whore?”, you cut the silence by saying what he could not. “How thoughtful of you, Aemond. Thank you for being considerate.”

Your sharp remark leaves him astonished at your bluntness. It hurts him more than he admits, but as you turn your back at him, entering the bedchambers and there locking yourself in, Aemond realizes that what you two once shared is no more.

***

You sob violently when being left alone. Your imprudence brought you such tragedy and at times you consider going to the window and jump to death at long last and put an end to your misery.

As your father’s daughter, however, your inclination to life speaks louder than letting broken pride taking the best of you.

However, for how long will your spirit resist this? You were never someone to be easily caged.

And yet, here you are…

***

• Reproach: the aftermath…

They told me all of my cages were mental so I got wasted like all my potential and my words shoot to kill when I'm mad. I have a lot of regrets about that I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere. Fell behind on my classmates, and I ended up here pouring out my heart to a stranger, but I didn't pour the whiskey…

Like strangers you meet. Dressed in a green silk gown with hair loose behind your back, a sign of resistance, you join the prince in an awkward dinner.

“Will you not eat?”

“I lost my appetite”, but your mouth is dried and you eventually take the silver glass poured with red wine to your lips.

Aemond softens before you.

“We have started wrongly. Again time steals you from me. I, who possess all that gold and titles can purchase, was deprived of the luxury of having you.”

How openly and crudely he speaks these words make your eyes go wide open at him. You down your glass, skepticism stamped in your features.

“You cannot be serious.”

“I mean every word I say.”

You do not answer, fearful of being brought to the edge of your tears. The old signs Aemond sees: you chew your bottom lip, you close your wrist in a fist, your shoulders remain tense.

Your body screams resentment when you spirits locks in silence.

“You don’t.” After a while you add. “Has Lady Alys been what then?”

“A replacement of you.”

You promptly stand.

“Stop it. Stop right there, my lord prince. Do you take me as a toy you can play at your will? Have you not taken enough of me to satisfy your thirst for vengeance?”

So does he stand.

“I lost a lot for the wrongs I’ve done, lady.”

“You have never missed me!”, and you at last explode. “You’ve forgotten me long ago! You took that woman to your bed, making her your wife in all but name! What have you sacrificed?”

Aemond shortens the distance as he holds your wrists, pulling you closer to him. When removing his eye patch, he hisses:

“I sacrificed you! Us! All that we could have been! Caged my own shadows, I was misled to believe I would earn no peace until they paid for the wrongs I suffered!”

You weep violently, drowning in your sobs as he holds you against him.

“Do not torment me more than I am tormented myself”, he whispers in your ear. “This is me trying, Y/N, to exorcise my demons and be a better version of me to you.”

He buries his head against your neck, smelling your scent, being reminded of peaceful days that now look old, ancient ones dusted in the wind.

His long fingers bury his nails tightly in your waist, nearly provoking physical pain as impatiently begins to unlace your gown.

You shiver before his touch, not hissing away of the pain you two inflicted each other. Now the only sound you hear is of his small sobs. Your hands go to his head.

Two souls harmed, pained in long term angst. You lift his face with scars exposed.

“How did we get here? I used to know you so well, Aemond. My sweet Aem, what have we done?”

“I swallowed vengeance as a medicine and had me poisoned. Never wanted to get you involved in this.”

Fireplace warms the prince’s chambers and soon you and him are sitting on the ground, close to the flames that warm the cold there is in either of you.

“Will you be the death of me?”

“Never”, he takes your face with his face and finally kisses your lips. “I will not let you go.”

As much as you want to be kissed, as much as your lips devour his in a fervent kiss, as much as your gown starts to slip out of your shoulders and your hands get to remove his shirt, you pull out and Aemond knows he should be more clear.

“There is a plan.”

“Then share it with me.”

“I’ll make you Lady of the Vale. You will sit at Eyre as their only lady. I’ll be by your side as you reclaim your inheritance.”

You can barely believe in what he’s saying.

“Aemond…”

“No more wars. No more tragedies. No more blood spent. This I promise you. I will make you my wife.”

When his lips twitch at a small smile, that sweet smile that has always melted your heart, you know what he speaks is true.

“Make me yours.”

That being said, Aemond, more than willingly, rises to claim your lips. And right there, before the flames, two dragons meet in flesh.

***

• Lady

And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town…

A feast is thrown at the Capital. Civil war has come to an end and you are told there had been no survivors of the black party. In spite of the plans secretly arranged with Aemond, you’d still have to go through the humiliation of being seen as a trophy to the green cause.

For him, you try. To conceal your grief, to mourn underneath a well masked emotionless face.

For him, you try. To dress in the colors of his house, to act composedly even when Aegon laughs at you, even when the usurper mocks at all you know.

But Aemond keeps his word. He stands for you, refusing to let his victory to perpetuate wounds that should be closed, that must be cured.

It’s when the Dowager Queen comes at you.

“There has been many losses to our sides”, she plays the diplomatic role that is expected of her position. “I lament it deeply how this ended. She was dear to me, you know.”

You cast your dark coal eyes to see a pair of green ones plagued by vicious sadness staring back at yours. There are many things you want to say, but no words make to your tongue.

Instead, you opt for the cold, silent treatment. However, when seeing how Aemond has stood for you—as he has always done, once you’ll learn-/, you eventually say with your dry throat:

“Your condolences are welcomed, Your Grace. I assume this is where I should congratulate you thus.”

“Congratulate me?”

Oh her cynicism prevents you try further to be genuinely polite.

“Indeed. Your schemes came to fruition and here your son rules uncontestedly, notwithstanding his father’s wishes in keeping Princess Rhaenyra’s his heiress. But what do I know?”

Leaving the paled queen prompted to another access of tears, you excuse yourself to the gardens.

A film of past, merry days is relived behind your eyes. Lady Laena educating you next to her twin daughters, only two years younger than you. The tutors, the moments spent with your father, who somewhat was distant but always caring to you.

The sadness of losing Lady Laena being replaced as you witness your father marrying Princess Rhaenyra. You remember her kindness and her favours. The dragon egg she gifted you in your late teenager days…

You sob as you miss your black dragon. A hole in your heart is open and your knees go weak. You can hear Rhaenyra telling you this is not your fault for Lucerys’ demise.

“This is not your war to fight.”

But you fought it, didn’t you?

“Don’t go”, your father’s eyes cried out to you when his words attempted to pull you down.

But you wanted to prove his worth… And that was the last time you ever saw him.

Here you are, hardly free. A trophy for all those victors to exhibit. And in this cruel circumstance, you miss him coming at you, standing by your side.

“Come”, he says, taking your hand to his.

“Where?”, you do not mind disguising anymore.

Your castle tumbled and you are nothing but the ruins of days that are not going back.

“To reclaim your inheritance with me”.

Aemond senses your reluctance and stands with you, now out of others eyes. And right under his gaze you sob violently, and he takes you in his arms, feeling your pain as if it’s his own.

“It shouldn’t be this way. I cannot apologize enough for what I’ve done to you.” And leaving his pride aside, he takes your face with his hands and wiping your tears, so he says: “Please, forgive me.”

Underneath grey clouds, out of the bloody feast, it’s just you and him. Trying.

“I forgive you”, you concede genuinely, forgiving yourself too for the impulsiveness.

“I shall never leave you. Ever”, he vows it.

And this is the start of a new journey to you. Where you are neither trying it, but making it. It’s time to amend the wounds of the civil war.

***

You regain your strength, your old self the moment you land at the seat of your mother’s house.

You are not entirely surprised that the local noblemen welcome you reluctantly, as if prepared to engage in war.

“Peace”, you tell them. “I come in peace.”

Aemond leaves you to settle it. He is by your side, hand resting in his sword. Having claimed Blackfyre, he wears it proudly. Not to mention the grand beast behind them.

Although calmly, Vhagar stares at those pair of eyes as if she’s about flame them all.

A dark haired young man comes at you. He could easily be a lost sibling, but the similarities end there.

“Lady Y/N Targaryen. I thought we’d not meet.”

“How kind of you, cousin. A very warm welcome on your part”, like your father before you, snark remarks are something you do well. Aemond himself doesn’t conceal a smirk.

“What are you here for? You have no right here.”

You really forgot how the people of Vale could be ruthlessly straight to the point. It’s when Aemond Targaryen comes in the scene.

“You either bend your knee on behalf of my lady or else you’ll face consequences in the name of King Aegon, Second of His Name.”

Those present still remember from stories when Vhagar last came there. Her rider was lenient and they prayed you and Aemond remain so.

But your maternal cousin, Lord H/N, doesn’t seem prudent. Silence hangs.

“Well? What is your choice going to be? Westeros has bled for more time than it needed. Will you be the reason why the Vale will meet blood and fire on the wrong way? It’s not shameful to bend the knee.”

“I shall never bend a knee for a treacherous whore as yourself.”

It’s enough for Aemond unleash his sword and… let its blade kiss the man’s neck.

“No one who offends my lady walks out free.”

Just like that you reclaim your inheritance and you barely conceal your satisfaction at it. Who’d else dare to resist you after Lord H/N’s unwelcoming reckless?

**

You are dressed in the colors of your mother’s house. How ironic it is that your father’s enemy helped you to obtain what he could never achieve not even as his widower’s alleged claimant to Lady Rhea’s inheritance.

You look at your prince, who stands at the higher table as your Arryn’s relatives welcome you with a proper feast.

“Thank you”, you smile at him and Aemond is pleased to find no sadness behind your eyes.

“It is only right to amend the wrongs”, right under the table he takes hold of your hand and there squeezes it. “It pleases me more to see your kinsmen and the folks here did not provide any sort of resistance.”

“Despite my surname and whom I take after, they remember my mother well even if I don’t”, you sigh shortly. “They see how diplomatic and reasonable I am. No matter how tied I am to this new regime, they want and need the peace these years took from them.”

Aemond smiles at you and you are content for finding peace at last behind his good eye.

“Thankfully you are. I don’t see how this could be otherwise.”

Earlier that day, before the ceremony of your rise as Lady of the Vale began, you and Aemond were lawfully married before the Seven. This feast intends to celebrate both occasions with tons of merriments. The next day a tournament will be given on behalf of their new overlords.

*

“My lady”, he kisses your neck and bare shoulders, his hands already removing your line nightgown.

Sitting behind you at your bed, your husband stands all bare as you let him take his time to contemplate this new state both of you are.

No more childhood sweethearts. No more lovers parted due to war. But a husband loving his wife.

You tilt your head to the side, already feeling a heat ache in the between of your legs. Your nipple is already hardened as he exposes it, and you’d gladly touch yourself to ease this burden had he not held your wrist.

“Leave it to me”, he bites your neck, there leaving his bruise.

You arch your back in silent protest.

“You are torturing in me”, you moan, turning your head as you make sure to remove your nightgown and begin to climb on your nude consort when he turns you to be laid under his body.

“Am I?”, he smiles, his hair a mess as you bury your nails on his shoulders, pulling you to him. “Am I torturing my beautiful wife?”

“For years”, you grumble before breaking in a loud whimper when he inserts a finger in between your legs. “Oh, husband!”

His tongue now slides to your chest, path trailing before reaching your nipples. There, the night finally begins to you and your prince gladly takes his time.

Until you begin to reach the climax, he climbs back at you.

And not entirely unexpected…

“Ah, yes!”

He groans as he slides inside you. Raising your legs to fit better his moves, he matches the pace of his hips with yours.

Locking hands with you, he pursuits your lips and in a very passionate kiss you give all you have to him.

***

Some years later.

You watch from your scribe quarters how Aemond trains your son, Daeron, with his sword. You are writing a letter to your sister-in-law, the Queen, to ask a favor on behalf of the Vale when the lovely scene captures your attention.

Your son is now four years old. He has silver hair with some dark shades, a trait you’ve once seen in Lady Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was. His eyes are painted lilac, likes his father’s. Your boy is every inch Aemond’s son.

But his temper is quiet, like yours. He possesses attentive, fierce eyes. He has a quick wit, and some say he’s a precocious boy. He’s indeed very healthy.

The scene is adorable. Whenever Daeron mishits a blow, he pouts.

“I am terrible at it, daddy!”

Aemond chuckles, very patient and says:

“Take your time, young man. You have to go back to our lessons when holding a proper sword.”

“If you gave me a real sword, I’d do better.”

You laugh quietly at the sight, especially when Aemond reprehends him for this thought.

“Nay, son. You need to uphold a wood sword or else what’s the point in holding a true blade? And even if you did, your mother would kill me.”

He then lifts Daeron and ruffles his hair.

“Come, let’s see what your sister is doing.”

Not too far from where he is, your daughter Rhaella is climbing a tree under the supervision of your trusted maid. When seeing her father, the dark haired little girl with purples irises beams at him and promptly goes down the tree to run at him.

“DADDYYYY!”

You get emotional at the sight. Aemond and your offspring. Your children, your heirs. A family you never thought you’d have to call yours.

And there’s a third one, a newly born baby who now reclaims your attention. The maid brings little Aemon to be breastfed as you insisted you do so.

“My little boy”, you turn at him, stroking his silver locks. You once joked to Aemond how the Gods amused themselves by sending a child with silver hair and another with dark locks. “My prince. Come, you are hungry, aren’t ye?”

You are doing so the moment the door is open and your husband comes in with the two children.

“My lady”, Aemond greets you with a kiss on your temple. “How is our son?”

“Healthy and hungry, praised be the Gods”, you chuckle. “And our children?”

“Mama, I must tell you what I did today!”

Suddenly your husband is pushed aside and Rhaella and Daeron begin to compete for your attention. Aemond, as amused as he is by the dispute, has to intervene.

And here’s how the rest of your afternoon is spent: surrounded by your family you love.

But there’s a surprise that might come to shake the grounds of your hard worked for stability. Before you get to dine with them, a lady of your trust comes at you in a hurry.

“What is wrong, my dear?”

“Someone wants to meet you. I am forbidden to share his identity and he wants to see you alone…”

It’s when Aemond has a glimpse of the conversation and he promptly entrusts his children to your lady before saying:

“She shall not meet this stranger alone, regardless of the conditions he imposed.”

The said woman messenger only gives you a look before doing as said. You and Aemond shoot glances, but neither dares to speak.

What surprise it is when, opening the door, you spot Daemon Targaryen completely weary standing before you.

“Dad?!”

He gives Aemond a long look before looking at you.

“Greetings there, daughter of mine. I’m alive.”

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #house targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell #aemond one eyed #aemond targaryen fic #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #taylor swift #evermore #this is me trying

[iwanthermidnightz]

the fact that taylor played getaway car,

mashed up with august (lost in the memory),

mashed up with the other side of the door,

specifically starting at the part where it goes

and then on piano goes into i just wanted you to know that this is me trying 😭

I’ve been having a hard time adjusting

I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting (salt air and the rust in your door)

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back

I have a lot of regrets about that

pulled the (getaway) car off the road to the lookout

could've followed my fears all the way down

and maybe I don't quite know what to say

but I'm here in your doorway (i know all i need is on the other side of the door)

living for the hope of it all

Taylor on this is me trying (long pond studio sessions)

"I've been thinking about addiction and l've been thinking about people who, if they're suffering from mental illness or they're suffering through addiction or they have an everyday struggle, no one pars them on the back every day but every day they are actively fighting something. But there are so many days that nobody gives them credit for that and so, how often must somebody who's in that sort of internal struggle must want to say to everyone in the room, 'You have no idea how close I am to going back to a dark place.'

I had this idea that the first verse would be about someone who is in a sort of life crisis and has just been trying and failing and trying and failing in their relationship, has been messing things up with the people they love, has been letting everyone down, and has driven to this overlook — this cliff, and it's just in the car going, I could do whatever I want in this moment and it could affect everything forever.' But this person backs up and drives home.

And then the second verse is about someone who felt they had a lot of potential in their life. I think there are a lot of mechanisms for us in our school days, in high school or college to excel and to be patted on the back for something. And then a lot of people get out of school and there are less abilities for them to get gold stars, and then you have to make all these decisions, you have to pave your own way and there's no set class yourself you can take. I think a lot of people feel really swept up in that, so I was thinking about this person who feels really lost in life and then starts drinking and every second is trying not to.”

and yesterday she sang you’re losing me where she goes

fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me / I'm the best thing at this party (you're losin’ me)

and today in this is me trying

and it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound

yeah much to think about 😭

#whew i think we both need a hug

[emrulerz]

I’ve seen some people who seem to strongly dislike Della Duck or see her as a terrible mother so I wanted to give reasons as to why she’s actually a good mother. I’m writing this as in-depth as possible to prove how Della is a good person. This is a biased opinion, obviously, but I’m also not entirely disregarding Dellas mistakes.

I talk about her mistakes but I also talk about how those mistakes aren’t her defining characteristics. She’s way more than how people make her out to be.

“Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” Episode 12, season 2

Coming back to Earth after ten years of being stuck on the moon can be challenging for multiple different reasons. (Adjusting to society, missing out on a decade of new things, getting back on a proper food and sleep schedule, etc).

The biggest thing the show highlights for Della is her struggle to parent. It can be hard to interact with people again after such a long time let alone become a parent of three (especially once they’ve already grown into 10 year olds). One could say that she had it coming since she was the one to have kids and then hop on the rocket prematurely. I can understand that it is infuriating that Della got onto the rocket but obviously getting lost was never her intention. She made a mistake and it’s shown throughout the show that she does deeply regret it.

Della did not intentionally leave her kids when she did this. There is a difference between leaving your family intentionally and going missing. It’s clearly shown throughout the show that Della cares for her kids so she would never leave them permanently. She tried her best to go back to Earth to get back to Huey, Dewey, and Louie.

Even when Della was stuck on the moon all she talked about was her kids and how much she missed them. No matter how many years went by she still talked to them through her camera to communicate a message to them (that, at the time, she believed would get to them) and would even talk about them to people she didn’t even know that well. She never stopped thinking about her boys.

“Whatever Happened to Della Duck?!” Episode 7, season 2

I fully believe that her only optimism and motivation to keep going was her kids. She always tried to remain positive even after several years went by. It can be really hard to remain optimistic while being stuck on the moon especially when you have no one else there with you. It can be isolating and terrifying.

Della has gone through ups and downs especially after seeing a beast who turned out to also be a mother. Della felt she related to the beast and even gave the mother her gold tooth even when she didn’t need to. She realized there was no way she’d be getting home if she did this yet she selflessly did it anyways. She felt heart break after heart break of losing her ways to get home.

It is unfair to say that Della hasn’t gotten any backlash or a punishment from her mistake. Yes, getting on the rocket was a big mistake and an awful one but her mistake was her punishment. She faced monsters that constantly attacked her and prevented her from getting home, she’s been stuck with no interaction with anyone for 10 years, she faced trauma, and she had to face her children whom she left after 10 years. So yes, she was punished and I don’t see or understand what other punishment she should have gotten.

Once Della had gotten back on Earth she immediately went to Scrooges mansion to see her boys.

“Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” Episode 12, season 2

Della apologized and even asked her boys if they could have her back as their mother. I do understand that they are children and it can be difficult to make such a choice. And, being children, it would be likely that they’d say yes. But I believe Della handled this apology well and the most important thing is that she DID apologize and even asked for forgiveness. Not a lot of parents do that.

I understand that during this scene Louie didn’t have a moment to accept like his brothers did. Dewey got excited and instantly agreed to having her as a mother so he didn’t give Huey nor Louie a chance to say anything. This is more of an issue with Louie’s feelings not being heard by, not only Della, but also by his brothers. It can be easy to unintentionally ignore someone’s feelings when you aren’t paying attention.

This isn’t necessarily Della nor Dewey’s fault. Louie in general has very complex feelings unlike his brothers (but I’ll get to that in a moment.)

This is an easy mistake to make especially if you’re too excited when seeing your kids for the first time. To Della she’s meeting new people she doesn’t know yet. Each of her kids are different with different feelings and she just needs to learn more about them. That’s why I believe it made sense for Della to come off as “too much” when first meeting them. She’s still learning to be a parent and that comes with some mistakes.

“Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” Episode 12, season 2

Della messed up a lot on learning to be a parent which is natural! She’s taking care of ten year olds whom she didn’t know at birth so obviously she is going to have some trouble.

She made the boys cake which she messed up, she told them scary stories, and she tried to act fun. Della may have made these mistakes but she was trying to be the best mom she could for them. It would be completely strange and unrealistic if Della had been completely perfect for them.

“Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” Episode 12, season 2

Della & Huey

Out of the three triplets Huey definitely had the least interactions with Della but that didn’t make their relationship is any less important. They still related in ways that they are both intelligent and, when first meeting each other, Huey got super excited when he discovered that Della was a Junior Woodchuck too.

The side plot in “Happy Birthday, Doofus Drake!” Is an example of a bonding moment between both Della and Huey. The two were both playing a video game called “Legend of Legend Quest.” This is a game Huey was currently obsessed with while Della mentions she used to play it all the time after adventures. This is another example of what both Della and Huey have in common relating to special interests.

While playing Della discovered that Huey would rather sit and plant his garden than fight because he claimed it was too dangerous. Della, on the other hand, would rather fight than sit around and plant. This seems to be the twos defining differences, super safe VS the not so super safe.

While Della is fighting, however, Huey seemed to be getting jealous and antsy, suddenly getting the urge to fight as well.

“Happy Birthday, Doofus Drake!” Episode 18, season 2

Huey wanted to step out of the area that caused him comfort and Della was fully encouraging of this. It’s good to step out of your comfort zone every once in a while and to not stay so boxed in to one area. She claimed that “every journey begins with a single step” which is a motivating and good thing for a kid to hear.

Della never once forced Huey out of his comfort zone and slowly allowed him to do it himself. This is completely his choice and Della is just encouraging it which is a good thing. Theres nothing wrong with stepping out of your comfort zone as long as you aren’t being forced into uncomfortable situations.

“Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” Episode 12, season 2

Della & Dewey

In season one Dewey discovered information about his mom and found out about the Spear of Selene so it’s only natural that the two would bond well together once she had come back.

Della does relate to each of the boys in different aspects but Dewey was definitely meant to be the one she related to the most. Dewey is like a mirror of Della. They’re both very similar and the show wants you to know that. They’re both hyper, ambitious, and jump into action/danger.

With this information in mind, it is known that since they’re similar they have a lot of moments together throughout the show. This does NOT mean she picks favorites as some people like to point out. She loves each of her kids individually and just because she is similar to Dewey that doesn’t mean she favors him the most.

Della and Dewey instantly went on an adventure together after the episode Della came back. Throughout the episode “Raiders of The Doomsday Vault!” Della taught Dewey how to fly the plane and they both defy Scrooge to go on their own little adventure to the money tree. Della and Dewey both struggle in this episode with each other: learning to say no.

Della is very encouraging to Dewey and tells him he can do anything he sets his mind to. When a kid as young as Dewey gets told this by their mother they truly feel that they can do anything no matter how impossible. This can be both good and bad for a multitude of reasons. While, yes, it is good to encourage your kid that they can do things it can also be very dangerous since the kid could get into bad situations.

Dewey started to get more risky the more Della convinced him he could do anything. When he hopped toward the money seeds, no ground beneath him, Della started to panic, thinking he’d fall. Dewey just convinced her it would be fine, “I can do anything! Just like you told me!”

Della started to realize that maybe what she had said wasn’t the best but she didn’t stop him. Once he made it to the money seeds, accidentally planted them, he slipped and fell when he realized he couldn’t do it. Della saved him and Dewey suddenly felt like he let her down.

“Raiders of the Doomsday Vault!” Episode 13, season 2

Dewey let out his emotions and Della convinced him that he didn’t need to impress her. Dewey didn’t need to be her. He had limits, obviously, and there was just some things he couldn’t do that she could. But no matter what she would always love him.

Della made a very simple mistake that a lot of parents make. It’s not talked about a lot because not everyone sees any bad in encouraging your kid but sometimes in situations like this it can go too far. No one usually wants to say no to their kid or tell them they can’t do something.

Throughout the show Della seems to be very supportive of Dewey and what he wants to do (an example of this is “The Lost Cargo of Kit Cloudkicker!” Episode 20, season 3.) It’s hard for Della to say no because she wants to support Dewey no matter what even if it’s something he’s not so good at.

Again, theres nothing wrong with doing this. Dewey will grow and learn that the hobby he wanted to do so bad wasn’t something he was so good at. Dewey is a kid who seems to jump from one hobby/activity to the next. And once he discovers he’s bad at something he will just hop to the next thing to see if he’s good at it. And Della will always be encouraging and supportive no matter what new thing he tries.

I’ve seen a point being made that Della is too dangerous and isn’t considering her kid’s safety. Just to clarify this is a Ducktales! This shows whole premise is big, dangerous, adventures. Scrooge Mcduck puts these kids through so many dangerous situations that is the point of the show. But people seem to pick on Della more for doing the same thing Scrooge does. I understand not every character is into big and dangerous adventures (Ex: Louie, Donald) but that is more of an issue that needs to be communicated with the rest of the family.

“Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” Episode 12, season 2

Della & Louie

This is where people have the most complaints regarding Della. You could say that Louie is the complete opposite of how Dewey is with Della. But this doesn’t necessarily mean Della and Louie don’t have a good relationship. In “Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” It is very clear to the audience that Louie is confused and has complicated feelings towards his mom unlike Huey and Dewey.

Not only does Della unintentionally ignore Louie’s feelings but so does his brothers. Both Huey and Dewey are happy that their mom is back while Louie seems confused and conflicted by his own feelings. This is a completely valid emotion for Louie to have. If someone you barely know comes back after a long time it can be hard to trust them or see them as family.

“Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” Episode 12, season 2

Louie expresses his feelings about his mom and even felt guilty for feeling this way. Della over heard this and it hurt her, for obvious reasons. But then later, near the end of the episode, Della saved Louie from the Gilded Man which was a very emotional moment for him. Della and Louie hugged then Della said to her three kids, “I know you’re not used to having a mom…and I am not used to being one, but I’ll figure it out as we go along. In time.” To which Louie smiled and responded back with, “we all will.”

Even though Della was talking to all three of her boys here you can tell it was more directed toward Louie considering he was the one that felt conflicted with their mom coming back. Della saying this and Louie’s response is like a silent agreement that they both understand each other in some way. Della will figure out how to be a mom and Louie will figure out how to have a mom.

Another big important moment between the two comes from “Timephoon!” In season two episode 21. Throughout this episode Della is convincing herself, and others, that she is a cool mom. She’s not strict and she is completely ok with the kids bringing in a cave Duck that came from no where. While a storm is happening outside the family is forced to stay indoors. Dewey and Webby get food prepared which is revealed to be chili dogs. Beakley is highly against it while Della is fully ok with it.

While watching it’s noticeable how often Beakley picks on Dellas parenting style. She’s too ok with what her kids are doing and she lets things go easily. That is until things get more and more out of hand when they discovered that different people from the past were appearing in the present time. Scrooge and Beakley instantly assume that one of the kids must have caused it. Della, on the other hand, is certain that her kids could not be the cause of it.

While Beakley and Della fight ninjas from the past, Della is still not convinced that her kids would be the cause of the time incident. She believed that her kids are “good kids” and says so to Beakley.

“Even good kids do dumb things and we have to make sure those dumb things don’t turn into bad things.”

Beakley is stating that good kids can make mistakes but that it’s a parent’s responsibility to make sure they don’t make more or worse mistakes. If a kid makes a big mistake, but they don’t learn from it, that can lead them down a bad path. At the end of the day a kid needs discipline to learn from their behavior and to never make that mistake again.

That being said there are right ways to discipline but there are also very, very, bad ways to discipline (ex: any form of hitting/spanking). But i believe Della handled it well.

“Timephoon!” Episode 21, season 2

In the end Della found out that Louie had been hiding the fact that he stole the time tub from Gyros lab to steal treasure from the past which, in return, caused time to get screwed up. Della was furious when she found out and took Beakleys advice into account. She realized that Beakley was right: kids need discipline even if you love them. Tough love. So Della gave him a stern talking to and explained that what he did was wrong: he stole and he almost lost his family by causing them to go back in time. So Della grounded Louie when no one else was going to.

Louie was mad, obviously. He’s a kid and to him he felt it was unfair, no kid wants to be grounded. But he needed the grounding to learn his lesson. Once Louie marched to his room Della dropped to her knees. On her exterior she had been trying to remain strong and tough towards Louie but once he was gone she expressed how hard it was for her to do it.

Beakley let her know that it would make Louie a better person in the future to learn from those mistakes. No matter what anyone says a child needs proper discipline. It’s hard to raise a kid and not everyone wants to discipline their child. But it is needed so they don’t step all over their parental figure and get away with things.

No one else was going to do anything about Louie’s behavior. He’s a kid and he’s obviously gonna make mistakes but he needs to learn from them and not get away with it, especially if it hurts others.

People seem to take this scene way too seriously even going as far as to say that Della is an abuser or a terrible parent for this reason. This is an absurd way of thinking. No good mother is going to allow their kid to get away with their behavior and potentially hurt others.

Louies grounding was completely deserved because he did something he really shouldn’t have done. Also this clearly isn’t Della “picking favorites.” If Dewey or Huey did something this bad Della would also ground them. Huey, Dewey, and Louie are all different and those differences come with some negative and some positive attributes and behaviors. Louie gets into more trouble than his brothers due to his money schemes so, eventually, it’s gonna bite him in the ass. And as we see here, it did.

The episode that comes after (GlomTales! episode 22, season 2) is another big moment between Louie and Della. In this episode Louie is grounded and he’s forbidden to leave his room. The family is getting ready to go to Big Rock Candy Mountain without Louie which is unfortunate since it’s the perfect place for him. Cherry pep springs, gold/money, being lazy. This was unlike their other adventures which were usually more dangerous and less enjoyable for Louie.

When Louie found out they were going he was mad and demanded he go too but Della claimed that he was still grounded and couldn’t come. I see this as an unfortunate coincidence considering Louie conveniently got grounded before they went on the trip. Scrooge chose this adventure as a victory to when he would beat Glomgold in the money bet. Della didn’t choose this adventure to purposely upset Louie as she didn’t choose it at all. But her grounding against Louie still stood. Just because they were going on a fun adventure this time that didn’t make him any less grounded.

The only complaint I have against this situation is that I wish Della didn’t go on the adventure. Even though Louie did have protection at the mansion due to the home security I still feel as though Della should have stayed home with him. I also do feel like the family going on this adventure is to poke more fun at Louie since it’s a place he’d actually enjoy but that isn’t necessarily the fault of Della or Scrooge. It was just imperfect timing.

While grounded Louie tries to use his phone or even Hueys tablet but Della programmed a way to only show videos of her giving lectures. This can be a good way to get your kid to listen when they have nothing else to do in a boring room. Preferably, though, I’d say Della should give those talks in person so it’s most likely that Louie would listen. But I believe those lectures on the phone are meant to be taken lightly just in a way that Louie can’t use his phone or any other device.

Throughout the episode Louie is trying to escape his room to go to Big Rock Candy Mountain but the DT-87 (security robot) doesn’t make it any easier. He tried to escape multiple times only to fail each time.

Louie even dressed up as Huey to try and trick the DT-87 into believing he was Huey. This unfortunately didn’t work out as Huey conveniently called at the same time. Huey talked about how cool the place was (which obviously only made Louie more jealous). When Louie tired to ask for more details Huey hung up the call.

Louie got mad at this and asked out loud to no one in particular, “What’s so wrong with an innocent scheme?” to which the DT-87 replies back with another lecture video from his mom. Louie just rolled his eyes until Della in the video said,

“Your plans, your schemes, they only lead to bad things for your family. If you wanna be apart of this family, you’ve gotta stop.”

Louie looked guilty and slowly sat back on the floor while saying out loud, “this is the one thing I’m good at. Why can’t you see?”

“GlomTales!” episode 22, season 2

This shows a big miscommunication/misunderstanding between Louie and Della. Louie believed that his only good trait was his schemes and his ability to see every angle of a situation. Meanwhile Della is concerned about whether these schemes Louie has are good for the family if they just end up hurting everyone.

I don’t fully agree with how Della worded her statement. I understand her worry that Louie’s schemes might hurt the family, since it has before, but saying that the only way he can be apart of the family is if he stops entirely, i’d say, is going too far. This is the first time Della had ever disciplined one of her kids and, again, she’s still struggling with what’s right and what’s wrong when it comes to parenting.

I understand this doesn’t excuse her words and it may have cut deep with Louie. I do genuinely wish we got a call back of what Della had said here and that maybe Louie would bring up how much it hurt him.

Near the end of the episode after Louie took the villains (and Scrooges) money, he talked to his mom.

“I know I messed up before but seeing all the angles is what I’m good at.”

She smiled and hugged him, “ok, but you need to take care to not hurt the ones you love and i’ll be here to help you see the angles you can’t.”

“GlomTales!” episode 22, season 2

Here we see a bit more of them understanding each other. It’s not a lot but it’s a start. Della says she will be there to help him when he needs it and Louie’s learning to not hurt others with his actions (which can be debatable). There are some instances after this incident (Ex: The Richest Duck in the World! Ep 23 season 2, Louie’s Eleven! Ep 5, season 3.) where Louie does still come off as mean or selfish. This doesn’t necessarily mean he didn’t learn what his mom said. It could be the case where Louie struggles with being more considerate and thoughtful of others. Again, not every kid is the same and they all learn differently.

In the second half of the “Moonvasion!” Episode, Della is struggling with wanting to keep her kids safe. They’re going through an invasion by the moon people and the kids want to help. Della, on the other hand, wants to keep her children safe. She’s already lost them once and she does not want to lose them again.

Her kids later pick up on the fact that Della was trying to get them to safety instead of getting help for the war. When they get stuck on a deserted island the kids try and find a way to get home. Meanwhile, Della is still insistent that they should just stay on the island since it’s so safe.

When they deny her she started to sulk and hide in the plane. Louie walked over and decided to talk to her. When they talked Della expressed more how she’s scared to lose them. Louie, who’s usually scared of most things, comforted her to believe it’ll be fine.

Louie noticed how Della is in clear distress about possibly losing her kids again. He sat down next to her and had a talk with her.

“Moonvasion! Part ll” Episode 25, season 2

Louie admits to her that he hates surprises and that’s because they come unexpectedly and a lot of the time they’re bad. But when a bad surprise comes, that can also lead to a good surprise. Implying that his mom was a good surprise for him.

Louie loves his mom no matter what anyone thinks or believes. He wouldn’t just lie to her face if that was the case and probably wouldn’t have said this at all. He was really happy when his mom came back he was just indifferent about her which is understandable.

Just because he was confused about her at first, that doesn’t mean he hates her. Just because he got discipline from his mother, that doesn’t mean anything. They both still love each other.

“Moonvasion! Part ll” Episode 25, season 2

Della & Donald

Donald and Della broke down once they saw each other (of course, after yelling at each other). Donald thought Della, his sister, was dead for all those years. And, even though Della seemed to put him under a lot of stress, he never stopped loving her. Even when he had to take care of her kids.

He doesn’t and has never hated his sister. He also doesn’t seem sad to let Della take care of the kids again. If anything he’s probably grateful since he was struggling so bad with money (this doesn’t mean he doesn’t still love the triplets.) Obviously he’s still gonna see them, he is their uncle, after all.

Just because Della is taking her kids back, that doesn’t mean Donald is against this. He was going to go on his own trip with Daisy and start his own life with her (“The Last Adventure! part I” Ep 22, season 3). Della was even against this, as she wanted to spend more time with him, but eventually she knew it was best to let him go.

Donald and Della never show any awkwardness and hatred towards one another once she got back. Donald loves his sister and aways will.

OVER ALL

Did Della make a mistake? Yes, obviously, but that isn’t her defining feature. Donald has made mistakes (Ex: Quack Pack! Ep 2 season 3) and Scrooge has as well (Ex: New Gods on the Block! Ep 15 season 3) but no one holds those mistakes against them as much as people do with Dellas mistakes.

You could say that their mistakes weren’t as impactful or important but, and I don’t know about you, but Donald wishing he’d rather have a “normal” family isn’t too loving.

“Quack Pack!” Episode 2, season 3

I’m not saying he’s awful for this. He obviously has reasons for wishing and thinking this (wanting his family to remain safe and out of trouble) but he still made a mistake and he then went to apologize to them and help them. He was forgiven by his family and no one in the fandom bat an eye.

Scrooge is another example. He treated the triplets and Webby like they were useless, even if he did it unintentionally, he was still going to replace them in some way. Della was even the one to try and help the kids and motivate them that they could do anything and to not listen to Scrooge.

“New Gods on the Block!” Ep 15 season 3

Scrooge has done this a few other times in the show where he would hurt the kid’s feelings. Sometimes unintentionally while other times he would intend on coming off as hurtful.

“The Missing Links of Moorshire!” Episode 11, season 1

“The Rumble for Ragnarok!” Episode 7, season 3

People can be biased when it comes to their favorite characters which I think isn’t a set way to determine whether a character is good or bad. If Donald, Scrooge, or Della did something bad it should be acknowledged and not just thrown under the rug just because they may be your favorites. But to obsess over EVERY mistake a character has made can also be very tedious because they will always make a mistake of some kind.

I acknowledge Dellas mistakes but I don’t obsess over it and make it her whole personality (just like how I don’t do this with Donald or Scrooge). I see how she genuinely feels bad and has made up for her mistakes and THAT’S how I determine whether a character is in good faith or not. If I saw that she didn’t feel bad about her actions then my opinion on her would change into a negative one. But since the show represents Della as a kind hearted character who saw how negative her actions were my opinion on her is a good one.

These characters are bound to make mistakes it’s natural and it’s what makes a character realistic and complex. Sometimes it can range from little things like lying and other times it can be big things that can impact a characters life. It can make a story interesting and, in Dellas case, I was really interested in what the Ducktales 2017 show did to her and her story.

It was heartbreaking and sad, in my opinion. She was lost and she had to be stuck for years knowing that it was her fault that she was in that predicament. She knew that her kids were growing up without her.

No one’s denying that Della has made a mistake, but to make it an excuse as to why Della is a terrible person or parent is lazy thinking. I truly believe that people don’t look as in-depth with her character and only see her for her mistakes. This is ridiculous especially if you don’t hold other characters to that same standard.

That’s all <3

(I also love Della and Webbys relationship. “The Golden Armory of Cornelius Coot.” Season 2, episode 20 is a good example of a nice moment between them.)

#ducktales #analysis #della duck #ducktales della #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #scrooge mcduck #donald duck #Ducktales analysis #idk I just love talking about della #I also love talking about Della and Louie’s relationship #they mean sm to me guys I’m sorry #if you disagree you’re wrong #if you hate Della you’re weird sorry #starting to think that Louie and Della have more moments compared to Della and Dewey cause goddamn #i’m insane #I wanna draw Louie and Della again so bad

[petricorah]

#55 for the Zukka prompt ? :3

55. I missed you...a lot [~2k words] / zukka week divorce

I missed you…a lot.

Those were the words that were tumbling in Sokka’s mind the entire journey back to the Fire Nation for the group’s reunion. He just wasn’t sure if he was allowed to say them. He was the one who left, he was the one who ended things, and he was the one who was…still in love.

Every day since he left Zuko, he’d looked back. He didn’t regret his choice, not in the slightest: he loved his people. He would make the same choice again, to be there with them. To rebuild what the war took from them, to bring together the scattered benders, to teach. And he loved doing it. But that didn’t mean he…was happy. He missed Zuko. He missed the rumble of his voice. His sarcasm and brashness. His sullen glares and his passion. How his smile quirked more on one side. How he tried so hard to not laugh at Sokka’s jokes, but Sokka was always able to make him dissolve.

I missed you…a lot.

Maybe he should say it. Fair or not, it was true.

And then what would happen? he thought. You’re still in the same position you were all those years ago. Your heart lies across the world, and he’s here. What do you even think will happen?

“Sokka,” Katara said. “Aang asked a question.”

Sokka vacantly tilted his head, forcing his eyes back into focus to look at Aang, who was grinning at him from his seat at Appa’s reins.

“Totally spaced out. What’s up?”

“What are you most excited for?” Aang said, not skipping a beat. “I’m going to eat flaming fire flakes until I can’t taste my tongue!”

“Uh, yeah,” Sokka said. “Me too.”

“‘You too’?” Katara echoed, her eyebrow shooting up in suspicion. “You can’t eat spicy food. Like, at all.”

Sokka shrugged, and looked over the side of Appa’s saddle. “Tastes can change.”

They were crossing buildings now, getting closer to the Fire Nation Palace. Something tight in his chest constricted.

“Hey,” Katara said, leaning in. “Is your knee okay? You’ve had this look on your face the last few hours. Well…kind of the last few days.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just ate some bad jerky.”

She lowered her voice so Aang wouldn’t hear. “You’re nervous about being back, aren’t you.”

“It was bad jerky.”

Katara pinched her face together. It was a look their mother used to give him when she knew he was lying about hiding penguin seal pups under his blanket. Not that he would ever tell her she did something their mom did, because then he’d always get that face, and he hated feeling guilty. And he hated when Katara was right.

I missed you.

It was safer that way. He wasn’t sure if it was more selfish to say it, or more selfish to stay silent.  

/

They finally arrived when the sun was beginning to set. The Fire Nation sky always seemed particularly red at sunset. It was normally a gorgeous sight to behold, but Sokka’s mind was elsewhere.

Sokka slid down Appa’s side like he had a thousand times, but groaned inwardly as his feet hit the stone, pain from his knee blaring through it. He was getting old, and the chronic injury didn’t help. He bent to adjust his knee brace, and grimaced as Twinkle fucking Toes landed lightly with a flutter of fabric next to him.

Waiting for them outside the palace was Mai, Ty Lee, and—

“Sokka!” Suki said, mimicking his usual call to her, and ran over, almost knocking him over with her enthusiasm, and his bad knee barely held him up as he got his footing.

A wave of euphoria hit him as she did and he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight. At least one person here was excited to see him.

“How are you?”

Suki beamed, pulling back. “I’m great,” she said. “We just finished initiating the new Kyoshi Warrior recruits. They’re shaping up to be really good. And, I’ve been perfecting chi blocking. When we spar, I’m going to have you rendered useless even quicker than normal.”

Despite it all, a smile tugged at his lips.

“And how are you?” she said, hitting him on the upper arm. “How’s the fancy new submarine project going?”

“Huh?”

“The submarine project?” she prompted. “You said that’s why you could come last year. You were busy overseeing the construction.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Finished. They’re absolutely fantastic.”

Suki didn’t look convinced at his waffling, but Katara said her name, and she swept past him to hug her.

Sokka zoned out a bit, tension creeping into his shoulders. The conversation was something about Toph being a day or two late, but he wasn’t present enough to truly pay attention. He didn’t know why the Fire Lord wasn’t greeting them—

“Where’s Zuko?” Aang asked, and Sokka’s neck snapped so quickly in his direction he heard something crack.

“He’s in meetings,” Mai said. She was poised and calm as always, but the stern demeanor was offset by Ty Lee hanging on her arm. The two had gotten together a short while after Zuko and Mai broke up, and it appeared that things were going well, even after all these years. Sokka could see Mai’s gloved hand on top of Ty Lee’s arm. Barely noticeable, but there. He felt a twinge of jealousy, and guilt for that feeling followed soon after.

“But he should join us for dinner,” she continued.

He didn’t.

Throughout the whole meal, Sokka was watching the door like a hawk. Every time a waitress entered the room, he practically flinched, his heart seizing inside of him.

He still didn’t know what to say.

I missed you…a lot.

He grated his teeth. He was desperately hoping Zuko showed up for dinner so the first time they saw each other could be in a public place, and he wouldn’t have to worry about what he might say. If it was in front of everyone, there was no worry that he would yell out I missed you! I still love you! in front of everyone. In a public place, he could crack a joke, put on his verified Sokka charm, and make Zuko laugh. Maybe make him forget how angry Zuko probably still was with him. A few laughs would…probably ice things over…right?

But Zuko didn’t enter.

He was pushing his food around the plate, barely eating.

Him. Barely eating.

Suki was looking at him like he was a madman.

“It’s not spicy, you know,” she said. “Zuko made sure to tell the cook you didn’t like it.”

Of course he did.

“It’s great,” he said. “I’m just not that hungry.”

Everyone within earshot stopped eating to look at him.

“Are you sick?” Suki whispered.

“No,” he said. “I just—”

“I thought you had some bad jerky,” Katara piped in completely unhelpfully. And by the snarky expression on her face, she knew exactly how cooperative she was being.

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you,” he snapped back, earning him rolled eyes in response. He shoved up, the chair clattering back. “I’m going to our rooms,” he announced loudly, and left.

/

He supposed it would have been smart to ask where their rooms were before he’d stormed out of the room like a teenager. When they’d gotten there, palace staff had whisked their belongings away to who knows where, and he’d been wandering around the palace for what felt like forever.

Even his fucking knee was starting to hurt. He’d been training and practicing to clear his mind on the journey, but he hadn’t been able to actually successfully clear it, so he’d ended up overworking it viciously, and he felt the dull ache start to spread as he walked.

And here he was. At the turtle duck pond. Again.

“How am I here again?” he groaned, fingers curling into his hair and he yanked the strands. “This stupid pond! Again!”

He kicked a rock near the edge, and ended up hitting the post, and blaring agony shot through his knee. He doubled over, clutching it in pain.

Your future is full of struggle and anguish. Most of it self-inflicted.

Aunt Wu’s words echoed in his mind, like they had been doing a lot recently, and he scrunched his face.

“Aunt Wu, I still hate you,” he grumbled.

“…Sokka?”

Sokka froze as he recognized the voice instantaneously, like a dagger through his heart.

He slowly craned his neck back, and saw Zuko standing above him.

He looked…

Sokka’s heart squeezed, and he felt lightheaded.

Zuko’s hair, which when he left, had been strands of fringe, were now bangs that curled along his cheeks and pulled back into his bun, the rest of his hair cascading down. His eyebrows drew together in concern.

“Sokka, are you all right?” His voice was low, and…

Sokka had thought the years apart weren’t enough for him to forget what Zuko sounded like, but hearing him speak again, hearing him say his name like that—

Sokka shot up quickly, staggering on his leg. “Zuko. H-hey, buddy.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow at the nickname, and regret lodged into his throat.

I missed you.

I missed you.

“Your hair got longer,” he blurted out instead.

Zuko’s eyes widened in surprise, and he rubbed his fingers together, twisting the tips of his bangs. There was a slight blush on his cheeks, but maybe Sokka was imagining it. “I just stopped cutting it.”

“It looks good,” Sokka said. “It suits you.”

Zuko stilled, shock running through his expression.

“So do the robes,” he said, pointing repeatedly. “A-are those new?”

“No,” Zuko said. “You just haven’t been here for a while.”

Oh.

Sokka straightened his spine, cheeks flooding as shame pricked on the back of his neck. “I-I…”

“Why are you out here?” Zuko said, nonchalantly tucking his hair back. His voice was low and rough, and the nearby lamplight accentuated his features.

“Just walking,” he said. He put his hand on his hip, waving his other in the air like this was all a nonchalant stroll in the palace. “Enjoying looking at the turtle ducks.”

“It’s too late in the year for them,” he said. He glanced back, eyes narrowed. “You’re lost, aren’t you.”

“…Yeah.”  

Zuko stepped forward, his robes sweeping past him. “I’ll show you to your quarters.”

Sokka followed him, suppressing his limp as they walked down the hallway.

“How…have things been here?” he said.

“Things are being rebuilt,” he said. “It is taking time to reach the far corners, and the law is not my…strongest attribute, but we are making progress. We’ve been quite productive. Several sects have been showing major improvement. The acquisition of—”

Sokka snorted. “Why are you talking like that?” he said. “I’m not one of your advisors.”

Zuko looked down at him with glowing yellow eyes. “To be honest, Sokka, I have no idea what you are.”

Sokka’s stomach dropped.

“Or why you’re here at all.”

Sokka’s eyes flicked back and forth. “Because I…”

I missed you.

Zuko opened the door. “Here is your room.”

Sokka’s jaw clenched, and he slowly stepped through the threshold. In doing so, he could smell the scent of smoke on Zuko’s clothes, and for a fraction of a moment, they were close.

“There’s…medicine on the table,” Zuko said. “For you. I heard you weren’t feeling well. It will help.”

There was some glimmer of petulant avoidance in Zuko’s eyes, and suddenly, Sokka could remember when they were young, when Zuko shouted his question to ask him out without making eye contact with him once.

“Thank you, Firelord Zuko. I…” I missed you. “I’m glad I’m here.”

Zuko’s eyes were unreadable, and with a flick of his robes, he was gone.

/////

oops. aaaand...this was almost 2k words. and might have a part 2 with plot? anyway, thanks for the ask!!

@zukkaweek

#zukka #zukka fic #i did this today for divorced zukka weekend #myfic #asks #divorced zukka #zukkaweek

[aidaronan]

✨Fic Writing Review 2023✨

Tagged by the incomparable @greatunironic and my beloved @wynnyfryd.

Words and Fics

58, 889 words published on ao3

Plus at least 14,975 or so words of unpublished things that are started and incomplete.

At least 30 new ideas and/or WIPs.

8 published fics on ao3 + some new additions to the drabble/ficlet collection + many tumblr fics/microfics

One completed collab with @sparkle-fiend and one collab (two really) with @sparklyslug in the works

Two monsterfucker fics influenced by the Steddie FanExpo NoLa crew and getting crossfaded as fuck in the French Quarter after meeting Guiseppe Quintilliano.

Top 3 by kudos

Cassiopeia, Orion, Bootes (aka he was a gator boi) Like I Always Do (post-starcourt hurt comfort) Nothing Hurts (Like Your Mouth) (oops! all monsters. vamp eddie and were steve banging in a mausoleum)

Fandom Events in 2023

Lex's Spicy Six Spring Fanworks Challenge

Multiple @steddiemicrofic challenges: read here.

Upcoming Projects

Two Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang fics. Hilariously, neither of them are Steddie as the main pairing, but I think at least one is likely to hit novella length. I can't say a lot due to secrecy, but I feel safe saying one is a gen fic and one is f/f.

One tiny baker!steve/rockstar!eddie collab with @sparklyslug, hopefully out this holiday season.

One bigger collab with @sparklyslug in the spring if we keep our enthusiasm together long enough.

Will keep trying to plug away at the witches fic. I have, admittedly, lost some enthusiasm for them but I do know where the story is going. If you love this one, please be loud at me but in a non-demanding way lmao. I need you.

Two Fandom Trumps Hate fills of at least 10k for @withacapitalp and my dearest, Andi.

Eddie Bio project.

???Who Knows??? But there will probably be monstercock involved.

Some personal chat, rules, and tags under the cut.

Doing some oversharing because I'm starting to think it's vital that we all are honest about our struggles so we don't feel alone and so we know we're not failures. We're just people.

It's been a low production year for me. It's been a difficult year in general, but sometimes change is hard even when it's change you need.

Over half my year was eaten up with job hunting, moving, and trying to adjust while feeling the depressive effects of not having a local friend/support network yet or enough money for whatever the fuck the economy is, esp in this area relative to my salary. A good deal of my body of works for 2023 were written pre-move. Hell, a good deal of them were written in the first quarter. (Which, btw, shout out to anyone else who often feels a bittersweet sort of regret at not being productive in the current internet environment where you feel like you're old news if you can't keep up an unsustainable output. I love you, same, it's prob not true anyway, and here are 200 forehead kisses. <33) All of that said, I'm feeling much better lately. I've been reading again. Writing again. Feeling like I'm living again. I'm looking forward to another arbitrary border of time and on filling that border with joy, especially queer joy and weird joy and the intersection of both of those. As they say: let's fucking gooo.

I still love it here. I know steddie won't be forever for me, just like other ships before them weren't forever for me. But I'm having fun and have been really enjoying some of the connections made in this little sandbox.

On that note:

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please do eat glass, I’ve heard it’s good for your gums. Tagging, even though I know some people have already been tagged: @sparklyslug, @wormdebut, @banannabethchase, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @messessentialist @rainbow-nerdss @plutosrose @thefreakandthehair and anyone else. @ everyone who keeps this fandom rippin' and roarin', kissing you, kissing you, kissing you

#fic writer things #fanfiction #year in review

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Soft Cuddles

Today is my wedding day, yes, really.

Whatever, here is today's Novemberstory because I am nothing if not obsessive <3

Characters: Glorfindel and a whole lot of other people

Words: 1 655

Warnings: many cuddles, little sad, cultural differences

Glorfindel had learned a good many things that others could never even imagine—he had wrestled a Balrog, he had known death and re-embodiment, and he had met the mighty Valar after the Great Sundering of the Doom of the Ñoldor.

Dark and terrible were many of his experiences and haunted his wisdom, but—on some days—he considered them a welcome price to pay for the immeasurably beautiful pieces of knowledge that were his own.

“Come here,” he whispered and slung his arms around Erestor who was in a particularly foul mood on this misty morning.

As soon as the solid warmth of his strong body seeped into the tender flesh and delicate bones of his lover, Glorfindel felt him relax against his chest and released a shivering, relieved sigh of his own.

“How did you—” Erestor murmured, ashamed now of a need he did not share with most of his peers.

“I once had the honour of watching over Eärendil,” the golden-haired revenant explained in soothing accents. “I myself was raised in a gaggle of elflings—kin and friends—and we grew too fast and were too carefree in our blessed serenity to ever cling to our parents overmuch.”

Picking his temperamental colleague up, Glorfindel carried him over to a window to cradle him on his lap while whispering his most precious confessions into his perfectly shaped ear.

“Eärendil was the first child I had seen in a long time, and he was different. He yearned to be held, carried, hugged, and Eru knows, I was eager and happy to comply. I seem to recall now that there must have been days when I did not set the boy down for a single moment—I’d even hide from his parents just so they could not snatch him away from me.” He gave a heavy sigh of regret and longing at the bittersweet memory of the soft hair and pealing laughter of his little protégé.

“Those were different times, and the safety of the Hidden Kingdom was a fraught, ever-threatened dream,” he went on in a voice that grew increasingly hollow with pain.

“Later, oh so much later, I came here to find that Elrond—my very own darling prince’s son—harboured much the same needs and desires as his father, and so did his children in turn.”

“Glorfindel,” Erestor gasped. “Are you telling me that you sneak around hugging not only children but grown Elves? Our Lord? His formidable sons? His noble daughter?”

Shrugging sheepishly, Glorfindel adjusted his hold on Erestor’s frame and settled his chin against the crown of his dark-haired head tenderly.

“I have the arms for that,” he said, a hint of insecurity and guilt sneaking into his tone. “You cannot imagine the relief and the joy I’ve drawn from the knowledge that the strong build that makes me an excellent fighter also allows me to offer comforting embraces. We all need redemption sometimes.”

“You are indeed very good at this,” Erestor mumbled sleepily. “I feel unafraid and soothed by the way you hold me tight. Maybe, we should make this a generally accepted behaviour, so you don’t have to do it in secret, and I don’t have to feel so embarrassed about enjoying hugs so much?”

“That is a stellar idea,” Glorfindel replied and smiled blissfully at the empty room.

“Safe travels!” Elladan and Elrohir stood at the gates, smiling brightly at Glorfindel as he led his horse by the reins.

“Erestor will be insufferable,” Arwen groaned, her beautiful face puckered with dread. “He always is when you’re away.”

Leaning closer to her until his cheek touched hers ever so lightly, Glorfindel whispered into her ear that she should try hugging him every now and then.

“Does he not smell like dust and death?” Elrohir joked but regained his composure immediately when a hard, unamused glare hit him.

Smiling wickedly, Arwen seemed to consider that new-found piece of information for a moment and then nodded slowly.

“Yes,” she said, “that, I can do. I remember quite well how you used to rock me in your arms, singing songs that were highly inappropriate but eminently entertaining for an elfling such as I was.”

“Don’t let your father hear you,” Glorfindel squeaked, and—sweeping the tall, graceful lady into his arms—he threw her into the air until she was breathless with laughter.

“You,” she wheezed, “are one of my best childhood memories.”

“And ours,” the twins added; they were checking Glorfindel’s pack and saddle like they always had, and he gave them the same serious, grateful smile they remembered from the time when he still had had to hold them aloft so they could tug at various straps and nod ponderously.

“Your childhood,” he replied as he hoisted himself onto the back of his trusty steed, “is one of my most cherished recollections as well. Be kind to Erestor, and I shall be back before you even have time to miss me.”

As he looked back at the proud descendants of his dearly missed Eärendil, his heart was full, and he whistled a wistful song as he rode out to honour a promise he had once given.

“Welcome to our—my father’s realm,” Legolas laughed, scratching his head sheepishly.

“Have you been back long?” Glorfindel asked, interested, and beamed when a burly, stout frame moved into view.

“The Lord of the Glittering Caves,” he exclaimed, genuinely happy to find Gimli in good health; they had conversed but very briefly before the Council in Imladris, but Glorfindel had listened to his tales with rapt interest.

At that time, he had also been invited to visit the Greenwood Realm—after the threatening shadow had been vanquished—and Glorfindel had ever been one to honour the word he had given.

The trees were different here, he thought, dark, old, and—if he was not very much mistaken—as ill-tempered as his very own lover could be at times.

“I shall have a small repast brought up,” Legolas cheered, excited to share the much-doubted and abnegated hospitality of his native kingdom with honoured guests.

Waiting in relaxed expectation, Glorfindel soon found out that Lord Gimli had as many questions about the Elven folk—he apparently only believed half of what Legolas told him on pure principle—as Glorfindel had about the elusive Khâzad.

“Are you all as stuffy as his father?” Gimli asked, jabbing a well-spiced drumstick forcefully into the quiet, fragrant night air. “I know my friend here is quite a jokester, but is the average Elf more like King Thranduil or more like Legolas?”

Glorfindel’s eyes grew round with surprise, and he cocked his head—making the small, festive bells braided into his hair jingle—and gave the matter some thought before answering.

“As you can clearly see,” he said, giving his hair another merry toss, “not all of us are very stern and dignified. As for the average elf—”

He fell silent and shuddered. “There—thankfully—is no such thing. I would say that King Thranduil can, at times, be the most formal and pompous of those who remain, but, then again, most of the High Lords and Ladies are undoubtedly very impressive.”

“Legolas—”

“Has time to become all that,” Glorfindel interrupted kindly. “At the same time, I’ve lived a very long time, and it has never happened for me, so don’t take my word for it.”

As the evening progressed, and the wine flowed, Glorfindel was soon overcome by a flood of longing when he thought of his loved ones in Imladris.

“Is he sad? Will he die now?” Gimli asked Legolas in a slightly alarmed tone.

“No,” Legolas laughed. “I dare say Lord Glorfindel is homesick.”

“Aren’t you pointy-eared tree-huggers always melancholy and yearning for some lost place?” Gimli commented dryly, scratching his beard and setting aside the wetting stone he had been passing over his axe in practised, regular movements.

“Can we help, Lord Glorfindel?” Legolas then inquired politely, ready to sneak into his father’s private reserve to fetch some of the rarer and more precious treats this Kingdom had to offer.

Startled by his words, Glorfindel was quick to wave aside their touching concerns.

“D’ya need a hug, Elf?” Gimli asked after having observed Glorfindel for a moment in contemplative silence. “I know your kind usually does not hold with that kind of physical affection—drastic, they’d call it, I am sure—but you look like you could do with one.”

To his surprise and delight, Glorfindel eagerly accepted that offer and extended his arms to welcome the strong, densely muscled arms that were slung around his midriff like ropes of braided steel.

“I…I find that I have been changed by the people around me,” he explained with an apologetic smile; even though he was not typically one to feel uncomfortable or even ashamed about the way he led his life, he felt nevertheless that he owed the prince of the realm an explanation for his highly unusual, nay even inappropriate, behaviour.

“Oh,” Legolas chuckled. “No need to justify this to me. After the tragic loss of my mother, my father would hug and cuddle me often, and I do not hesitate to admit that Gimli and I quite enjoy exchanging physical gestures of affection.”

“Skinny as a twig,” Gimli muttered good-humouredly. “All skin and bones.”

“Yes,” Legolas added, nodding wisely. “My dearest friend also insists on feeding me well—he is inordinately worried about my well-being.”

Eyebrows rising in bewilderment, Glorfindel wanted to object that—if anything—it was incumbent on Legolas to tend to the various vital needs of a being so woefully prone to illness and death, but his host almost imperceptibly shook his head.

“We all have our ways of expressing affection and support,” Legolas said and stretched out on the soft forest floor with a deep sigh. “And I, for one, think all of them are wonderful!”

Thank you so much for reading <3

-> Masterlist for November (by @cilil)

#og post #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #November #Nanowrimo2023 #Glorfindel #Elrond #Erestor #Glorestor #Elladan #Elrohir #Legolas #Gimli #Legolas x Gimli #Soft cuddles

[springofviolets]

I’m going to do a little midnight ramble here. I started writing fan fiction last Christmas and I find it so, so much harder than writing original fiction. You’ve got to take characters you didn’t invent and try to put them into situations that make sense for the background created by someone else and make them respond to those situations in a voice and with motivations you didn’t come up with. That’s fucking hard! The amount of mind-reading that takes? Yeesh!

So many great fan fic writers I’ve met think they’re like not good enough to write original fiction yet. Babes I think all of you are more than ready. If you’re building a world for these characters and telling a coherent story with them, you’re doing so much harder work than pulling characters out of your ass, deciding on your own what their personalities and motivations are, sticking them into any scenario in the universe, and being free to adjust them as you write because nobody met them before you came up with them. Seriously. If you’re one of these kinds of fan fic writers who’s wanted to write original fiction and think you’re not ready? Go fucking do it, you are.

I’m thinking about all this because I am trying to give myself grace as I attempt to wrap up an absolute slog of a piece of fan fiction that’ll come in at around 10k words. I’ve been working on it since late January, technically, and when I started writing fan fic I never thought that I would be this devoted to it. I thought I was going to use it as a sandbox to experiment with writing subject matter and techniques I didn’t want to test on the original fiction I attach my real name to. As it turns out, I really enjoyed telling stories about my favorite little guys, but I find the process absolutely grueling.

For this fic, I can’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent doing things like

Debating how much the trauma responses of occult beings would be like a human trauma response

Debating what sorts of fucked up attachment styles occult beings could/would develop as a result of their trauma

Trying to write quite a lot of consensual explicit sex (a thing I never wrote before December 25 2023) and make it clear that the characters are in love but have the sex be not sexy

Trying to balance several intended emotional strands throughout the story in a way that actually works and doesn’t result in them like canceling each other out or coming together in a story that feels completely disjointed

Trying to keep the writing from being overwrought. And also underwrought

Feeling like there are literally no possible arrangements of words that will hit the way I want them to for every single sentence in this story

Telling myself that this story is stupid and nobody will even want to read it (a thought I legitimately never had about any of my writing before this!)

Asking myself if I’m sunk cost fallacying the amount of time I’ve put into this story and I should just abandon it

Being really mad that some people are popping out like 4k words of fan fiction a week when I’ve spent two months writing less words than that and I’m pretty damn sure it’s nowhere near as good as what they popped out without even stopping to think long and hard about it, given the turnaround time

Thinking about how the more fan fiction I write the less excuse I have for why I’m so shit at this

So uh, I think I’m on the verge of being done editing part 2 of 3 of this thing before having it beta read. Assuming my beta readers don’t appear bored out of their ever-loving minds by it, I’ll finish it, though god knows how long that’ll ultimately take.

I do not regret getting into fan fiction writing, but boy is it driving me crazy.

#fan fiction #fan fic #writing

[winchesterszvonecek]

TYSM for doing this Otis deserves more love and attention it’s about time someone takes Proper action ! Not just saying they love Otis but then get “overwhelmed” when people actually request for him.

"CAN WE TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED?" PROMPTS

*  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

•i wish you would just look at me for two seconds.

Otis x fem pls ❤️

Can We Talk About What Happened? - [ Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek ]

Prompt: “I wish you would just look at me for two seconds.”

Word Count: 1487

Warnings: female!reader, little angst, fluff

A/N: i feel like i’ve missed something from the first part of your ask but i’m just glad i can help provide other otis fans like me with the content he deserves

Masterlist | Otis Masterlist

You’d never felt more embarrassed in your whole life. You’d never done something so stupid before but then again, you’d never been that drunk either. You hadn’t meant to drink so much but when people were handing you shots left right and centre, you just kept downing them… and downing them… until the next thing you knew you’d snuck into the kitchen of Molly’s behind Otis and you kissed him.

You kissed Otis. What the hell had you been thinking, allowing yourself to be so open like that? You always knew you liked him. You liked him a lot. He was cute. Funny. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d dreamt about him, but you never thought you’d ever do anything about it, not when he’d never so much as given you a hint that he liked you back. And to make matters worse, it appeared as though he didn’t as the second your lips touched his, he pushed you away.

The second you felt his hands on your shoulders. The second the words ‘what the hell are you doing?’ left his lips, you knew you’d gone and royally fucked up beyond repair. You couldn’t even look at him. Couldn’t be near him. The entire shift afterwards you’d avoided him. If he was in the bunk room, you went to the common room. If he was in the common room, you went to the bunk room. Hell, at one point you even sat in the bullpen with Connie and helped her do paperwork as a way to get away from him.

You couldn’t believe you’d allowed yourself to be so stupid and ruin what the two of you had. You’d always been close. Best friends really and yet you’d allowed yourself to get so drunk that you couldn’t seem to repress your feelings for him anymore. You tried to act like you didn’t remember it but you did. How could you forget the way he so blatantly shot you down, breaking your heart in the process. No, you felt ridiculed. Disgusted with yourself. Full of regret. And honestly, you were very tempted to hand in a pink slip just so you could transfer out of fifty-one altogether.

You knew there was no getting out of this one. No way to laugh it off and pretend it didn’t mean anything, even though to you it did. Which is why instead of sleeping like everyone else, you were sitting outside on the firehouse apron, wondering whether or not you should hand in that pink slip that you’d hidden away at the back of your locker. As at this point, that seemed like the only answer.

The air outside was crisp and cold. The moonlight shone brightly as you stared up at the cloudless sky, watching the subtle twinkle of the stars above you. You always loved quiet nights at the firehouse, when you were able to just forget all your worries and watch the stars, a lot of the times with Otis as he often joined you. But tonight was different.

Instead of having Otis by your side, he was in your head. His words were rattling around inside your mind, one that was supposed to be empty right now to allow you to enjoy the peace and quiet. But you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of him. No matter how hard you tried to forget what had happened, you couldn’t seem to manage. And each time you thought about it, you were just reminded about the fact that he didn’t like you back.

“I thought I’d find you out here.” Otis’s hushed voice made you tense as you sat against the pillar, wishing you’d chosen a different spot as this was usually the place you’d sit with him.

You didn’t say anything as your neck straightened, your eyes now focusing on the shrubbery in front of you rather than the stars. You could see Otis moving into your peripheral vision but you didn’t dare look at him, not if you wanted to keep the pieces of your heart that were left whole.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Otis said softly, making your stomach churn as you thought you’d been subtle in doing so, but it turns out you hadn’t. Especially not when you walked into the common room, spotted him behind the grill and then slowly backed away before running to the opposite side of the firehouse. Now that you remembered it, you were pretty sure everyone noticed that.

“No I haven’t.” You replied, voice low and full of embarrassment as you wished he’d just leave you alone. You couldn’t bring yourself to have to talk about what happened, not when it was still so fresh.

“Barely looked at me either.” He added, ignoring your pathetic excuse of a defence. “Not since the other night. At Molly’s.”

“Don’t.” Your breath trembled at the thought of him bringing that up right now. Your chest already began to ache over it and if he said anything else, you knew you’d never be able to hold in the tears that fought so furiously to escape. “I don’t… I don’t want to talk about that okay? Ever. It was a mistake. One that I wished never happened.”

“Was it a mistake? Because I know you and if it had been… You’d have simply laughed it off instead of avoiding me all day.” Otis replied, moving to stand in front of you as he needed you to look at him, but instead you simply turned your head to the side, making him sigh in defeat.

“It was a mistake. A drunken mistake. Okay? I said I wished it never happened, so would you just quit bringing it up.”

“You know what I wish for?” He whispered, crouching down before you. You stayed silent, shuffling a little on the spot as the thought of him so close to you was almost too much to bear. “I wish you would just look at me for two seconds.”

Your breath hitched at his words and you swallowed back the lump that was beginning to rise in your throat. It took you a good few seconds to muster up the courage to look at him, and when you did, you very nearly broke down in front of him.

“I’m sorry.” You said so quietly he just about heard you. You wiped at your eyes, a choked sob escaping your lips, one that tugged on Otis’s heart as all he wanted to do was hug you. “I didn’t mean to kiss you.”

“Didn’t you?” He said softly, tilting your head up to look at him again after it had fallen forwards. “Because the way you’re acting now, makes me seem like you did.” His hand moved to cup your face, which you allowed to linger there for a second before you pushed away from him and got to your feet.

“Don’t.” You exhaled, folding your arms over your chest. “Don’t act as though you feel the same way about me… Not with how you reacted when I kissed you.”

“Y/N, I only reacted that way because you took me by surprise.” Otis chuckled softly, causing you to furrow your brow as you turned back to look at him. “And truthfully, it took me a second to realise it was you who’d kissed me. And once I did, well you’d already run off.”

“What-What are you saying?” You hiccuped, hope slowly filling your aching chest.

“I’m saying…” Otis began, moving cautiously towards you. His hand lifted slowly and when you didn’t back up or swat it away, he set it gently aside your face once again. “If you hadn’t avoided me all day, then I’d have been able to do this much sooner.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing softly over yours which had your heart racing beneath your chest before they firmly planted against them. You almost couldn’t believe what was happening. Couldn’t believe he was actually kissing you. And the way it felt? The way Otis was so gentle. So loving. The way his lips moved slowly against yours, with so much care that you could barely feel the roughness of his moustache on your skin. It was everything you could have ever dreamed it would be. And more.

His arm slinked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as your own arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers threading themselves through his hair. You’d never had a kiss quite like it before. One that had your stomach flutter so furiously you thought it would fly away. That had your spine tingle and goosebumps erupt all over your skin at the mere touch of his lips. And when he pulled back. When he rested his forehead against yours, staring deeply, lovingly, into your eyes. It was safe to say that you were in a much different daze than you had been all day.

Prompt List

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tagging: @sancochillo

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#brian otis zvonecek #chicago fire #chicagofire #otis #fanfiction #oneshot #brian zvonecek #chicago fire fanfic #otis chicago fire #otis zvonecek oneshot #brian otis zvonecek oneshot #otis zvonecek #otis imagine #otis oneshot #brian otis zvonecek x reader #otis zvonecek x reader #otis x reader #brian zvonecek oneshot #brian zvonecek fanfiction #brian zvonecek imagine #brian zvonecek fanfic #brian zvonecek x reader #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire one shot #chicago fire x reader #one chicago #one chicago x reader #x reader #reader insert #zvonecekotis

[themorningsunshine]

This is me trying

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary - Based on the song “This is me trying” by Taylor Swift

Warnings- Angst, mention of nightmares, description of a therapy session (I guess that’s pretty much it)

Word count - Almost 2k 

a/n - This is my first time writing a fic based on a song. Please let me know what you think. 

                         I've been having a hard time adjusting                       I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting                        I didn't know if you'd care if I came back                           I have a lot of regrets about that

Bucky wakes up screaming. This happened more often than not these days. Covered in sweat, he tries to catch his heavy breathing. Tries to calm himself down. Does what his therapist told him to. Closes his eyes and thinks about the good things, anything really to remind him that he wasn't with them. That he wasn't the winter soldier anymore. Anything that could make him feel real.

And all he can think about is you. It's not really surprising to him. You were pretty much the only thing that could make him feel human. The only one whose eyes let him know where home is and he tries desperately to remember you. Everything about you. It's not only to calm him down anymore. He needs to remember you. Everything. Even the tiniest details. If hydra caught him again and wiped him off, he had to remember the one highlight of his miserable life. One person for whom he could live this whole misery of a life once again.

But it was easier when you were there, with him to remind him that it wasn't his fault. To hold him and care for him. To love him.

For a fleeting moment, Bucky contemplates going to you. Maybe he could knock at your door and you would see how miserable he was without you and take him in, under your angelic wings. Maybe you won't ask him questions. Maybe you won't hate him.

But it's too rare to be considered a possibility. He thinks of the more probable outcome. The one where you would shut the door on his face, asking him to fuck off and never come back.

He would deserve it. After what he did to you, he would deserve every bit of it. But he questions if he would be able to take it. The hatred in your eyes, you being disgusted by him and he realises he won't be able to. It was better, easier to just lie back down and think about what could have been, if he was a braver man, a better man.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。

                 And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound                   It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you                 You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

Bucky hated parties, couldn't stand the idea of standing with a room full of people, even if most of them ran the other way at the mere sight of him. He was always at the bar, hoping that he could somehow drink enough to forget the world for some time, to get drunk. That never came but he wasn't going to stop trying.

He tries to hide from Sam, desperately. He knows if he spots him, he was going to pull him into conversations. Bucky knew Sam just wanted to help, but he didn't need it and he just wishes that Sam would give up on him, already. It couldn't be that difficult, after all if his childhood best friend did it without anything more than a fleeting thought.

But Bucky remembers a time when he volunteered to go to these parties. He still hated crowds but the slight possibility that he could catch a glimpse of you among the hundreds of people, was worth the risk.

Now, when even that is improbable, he can't be here. Everything reminded him of you. The whisky that would make you scrunch up your nose. The bartender who just couldn't catch a hint and kept flirting with you. Even the balcony which was your getaway and later became his too.

Whenever the crowd or the music became overbearing, you would lead him to that balcony with an understanding smile on your face and the both of you could just stare at the night sky. It was your place. Your getaway. Where the both of you had shared your first kiss. Where he had told you he loved you.

Bucky thinks he can go there. To atleast calm his nerves. But he knows it won't do any good. It was never the beautiful view of the sky or the slight breeze, it was the girl who refused to let go of his hand and smiled at him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

But that was now long gone and now he had no reason to stay here. But he was still there. At the same spot at the bar, staring at the entrance. It was silly, really but Bucky never used his senses when it was about you.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。

                          They told me all of my cages were mental                           So I got wasted like all my potential                           And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad                            I have a lot of regrets about that

Dr Raynor looks at him like she is dissapointed with him. Bucky can't blame her. He hasn't answered a single question of hers in the past thirty minutes. They both know he comes here just because it's mandated. He hates his therapy sessions and he has hated them for so long that he can't even remember why he started hating them in the first place.

He has stopped keeping a mental list of the people he has disappointed. Steve, Sam, Dr Raynor, Sarah, himself but most of all you.  He doesn't understand why he can't do what Dr Raynor or Sam asks him to. Move on. He is lucky that he has been pardoned. He should be grateful fot it. He should be grateful that they haven't sent him to a mental asylum or hanged him to death for the crimes he has committed.

Why can't he feel grateful for all that and try not being a burden on everybody around him?

Almost at the end of the session, Dr Raynor sighs and asks him one more question, "James, do you want to be happy?"

The question throws Bucky in a turmoil and he realises he hasn't really tuned her out that successfully.

But more than that, it's the question that sticks with him. Does he want to be happy?

He remembers the last time he was happy. It was a memory he would take with him to his grave. The day he ruined the one good thing in his life. When he hurt the one person he thought he never would.

"Buck, please let me help you!!" You called out, pleaded to him. He was standing in the middle of the room, bleeding on the carpet. But the carpet was the least of your worries right now when you looked into his eyes and realised that this mission took a toll on him more than any earlier mission ever could. He was going to shut you out again. But you weren't going to let him do that. You wen't going to let him suffer all alone. Tears pooled in your eyes for the man you loved.

"I don't need your help, y/n." He growled at you and you couldn't help but slightly flinch. You knew he would never hurt you and you had to remind yourself that he was really hurt.

"You don't have to do this alone, Buck. Please let me." You practically begged to him but he paid no heed to you as he scratched out the bandage and hissed out in pain.

"Buck, you're going to hurt yourself. Please." Tears were now rolling on your cheeks as you saw him in pain. If only he could just listen to you and not be so stubborn and harsh on himself.

"I don't need your sympathy, y/n. Neither your pity." Bucky regretted these words as soon as they left his mouth. Oh, what a lie that was. He wanted nothing more than to let you take care of him. To hold him and send his demons away. He could hug you and tell you how harsh the world was to him. How the recent mission had him reeling back to what he used to be.

He realised he hadn't healed. He could never. What hydra did to him was permanent. The cracks of his sould could never be filled, not even by the enormous amount of love you showered on him. He was a broken mess of a man and he would never heal, not by the prospective of a beautiful future, not by the hope that had ignited in him since the day you told him you loved him, not by the ring that had been sitting in his pocket for a month now. Nothing could ever heal him. Nothing could ever make him a complete man. A man you deserved.

"I don't need you. I never needed you." These were the last words he ever said to you as he walked out of the door. He wanted to look back, he needed to look back but he couldn't. He knew he would stay if he did. Take you in his arms and apologise profusely, take all the words back if he could. He was a weak man. He would stay back for that perspective of a beautiful future. So, he didn't look back. Not to the place he had started to associate with the word 'home'. Not even to the woman he knew he was going to love for the rest of his life.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。

                          Pulled the car off the road to the lookout                          Could've followed my fears all the way down                           And maybe I don't quite know what to say                                   But I'm here in your doorway

Bucky didn't know what he was doing. How he started his car and drove up to your house, without thinking, he would never know.

But one think he knew for sure was that when Dr Raynor asked him if he wanted to be happy, all he could think about was you. Your kind eyes, your smile that could take his breathe away, your gentle touch, your love.

And then, he knew, He knew that he wanted to be happy. With you. He might not deserve it. Hell, he might ruin it all again but he would be damned if he didn't try.

He might be broken, impossible to heal but he wouldn't let Hydra take away from him his light at the end of the tunnel. He wouldn't let them take you away from him.

But when he stands near his car, in front of your house, which is exactly like he remembered it, he is at a loss of words.

What will he say to you?

What could he say to you?

Did you still live here?

What if you had found somebody and you were happier than he could ever make you?

Did you even want to see him?

What if he made a mistake by coming here?

Bucky is lost in his thoughts. Thousands of questions swirling around his head but he will have to do this. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't even try. He is about to take a step towards the house, when the door suddenly opens.

Bucky watches from his place when you walk out of the door, and as your eyes meet his, he realises he made the right decision. Because maybe he was indeed broken beyond repair but he could heal if you were by his side.

For a moment, none of you move. Staring into each other's eyes as if you were afraid that the other one would disappear into thin air.

Then, you smiled at him.

                           I just wanted you to know                            That this is me trying                           I just wanted you to know                              That this is me trying

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #hurt/comfort #bucky x female reader #nightmare #marvel #angst #oneshot #taylor swift #this is me trying #song #song fic

[writercole]

The Offer

Summary: It's been a year and a lot has changed.

Words: 1950

Warnings: Break up, reunion, sass

A/N: And this is where it all starts. Welcome to The Best Benefits.

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One Year Later

Y/N made it home after a long day on base, weariness echoing deep in her bones as she dragged herself out of the car. She walked in to find duffle bags waiting next to the door and her boyfriend in the kitchen.

“Billy, what’s all this?” she asked as she tossed her keys on the counter.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he told her flatly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Billy, I’ve had a really long day. I refuse to coddle you tonight,” she said wearily, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her stress.

“Let me guess, you don’t want to talk about it?”

“No, not at all. Besides, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Yeah, that’s part of the problem,” he sneered, “one minute you're an open book and the next you’re emotionally unavailable and I can’t deal with it.”

“Huh? You’re gonna have to spell it out for me ‘cause I’m not getting it,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed across her forehead.

“You don’t talk to me. You don’t trust me to just listen. But that Bagman guy -”

“Hangman,” she interrupted.

“Whatever. You’ll run to him at the drop of a hat.”

“He’s my best friend and happens to be in the same line of work that I am,” she explained for what felt like the thousandth time. “There’s nothing there. There never was.”

“Yeah, right,” he snorted, rolling his eyes in disbelief.

“You know what, Billy?” she sighed, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose momentarily before she raised a fiery gaze back to his face, “get out. I’ve given you everything I have for the last year. The only thing I’ve gotten in return is a lot of bullshit and a half-ass orgasm. You haven’t even tried to sleep with me in months, which I’m actually kind of grateful for. Now I don’t have to adjust to not having good dick.”

“You fucking bitch,” Billy spat, stalking towards her and stopping just centimeters from her face. “You’re going to regret that.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” she scoffed. “Now get out. And leave your key.”

He tossed his key on the counter and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him hard enough that the pictures rattled on the wall. She waited until she heard him peel out of the driveway before she allowed herself to breathe out a shaky breath, reaching for her phone as tears started falling down her cheeks. She dialed a contact straight from her home screen, sniffling as it rang.

“You’ve reached Hangman, god of the skies. Leave a -”

Sobs wracked her frame as she hung up the phone, devastated that she couldn’t talk to the one person who would be able to calm her, the one who wouldn’t say ‘I told you so’ even if she deserved it and, in actual fact, Jake had told her how it would end. 

Her phone rang in her hand and she dried her tears as she looked at the ID. She cleared her throat and slid the button to answer. “This is Valkyrie.”

Jake was concerned when he saw a missed call but no voicemail from Valkyrie. Before he could worry further or hit the dial button, his phone was ringing. He saw the ID and slid his phone open.

“Hangman,” he answered.

“Lieutenant Seresin, Admiral Simpson,” the man on the other end identified, “you’re being recalled to Top Gun. Your plane departs in sixty minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” Jake responded respectfully, “I will see you when I land.”

Jake rushed to get packed and ready for his transport, completely forgetting about the missed call until he was midair on his way back to North Island.

Valkyrie settled her things into her dorm and decided to go visit her favorite place on North Island, The Hard Deck. As she walked in, she was surrounded by the sounds of classic rock from the jukebox and the noise of overlapping conversations from the plethora of patrons. She waved to the bartender, Penny, and looked around, smiling broadly when she saw a familiar face in Navy khakis.

“Hangman!” she called over the din of the bar.

Jake glanced over and smiled broadly as he threw his last dart, hitting the bullseye without looking. “Valkyrie, as I live and breathe.” he smirked, half happy and half flirting. “What are you doing here?” he asked as she walked over. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, spinning her in a hug as she clung to him.

“I thought you had a no hugs policy?” she chuckled.

“Don’t act like you don’t remember wearing me down. You’re still the only exception,” he replied, “but you also didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”

“Recalled to Top Gun, as I assume you were, too,” she told him as he set her down. 

“Of course I was. I’m the only naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed kill. Of course they called back the best they have,” he smirked. “You need a drink. C’mon.” He slung his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the bar, ordering two more beers and insisting her drinks were on him for the night.

“How have you been, Jake?” she asked.

“I’ve been good. But what about you? I saw a missed call from you the other night and didn’t get a chance to call you back,” he inquired when Penny handed over the drinks.

“Oh, yeah, that,” she scoffed, swigging back a mouthful of beer. “Billy dumped me. Said I’m ‘emotionally unavailable’ whatever the hell that means.”

“It means he wants to go fuck someone else. Where is this dick? I’m gonna kick his ass for you,” Jake replied, practically growling.

“He wasn’t fucking me anyway. I can’t tell you the last time I actually had sex,” she grumbled as she made her way to a seat near the pool tables, Jake trailing behind her.

“Coyote, this is Valkyrie,” Jake introduced. Coyote’s bright smile beamed as he held out his hand for her to shake, but Jake held up a warning finger, “Behave! She’s a good friend.”

“More patches,” Coyote nodded as a group of three people in Navy khakis strode through the bar. 

“Phoenix?” Valkyrie exclaimed when her eyes landed on the woman in front of the group.

“Valkyrie!” she responded enthusiastically.

The pair wrapped their arms around each other and talked in hushed voices for a moment before turning back to the other pilots.

Hangman made a sarcastic comment and Phoenix replied, prompting Coyote and her two friends to jump in.

“Phoenix, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” Valkyrie wondered aloud, drawing attention away from the tensions between Hangman and the rest of the group. 

“This is Fanboy and Payback,” she said as she pointed to each of the men in turn. “Boys, this is Valkyrie, one of the finest pilots I’ve ever had the pleasure of flying with.”

“Who’s the other one? Me?” Hangman smirked. 

Phoenix shot a look over to her friend, one that said ‘not even in his dreams.’ Valkyrie chuckled quietly as she patted Hangman on the shoulder.

“I always told you I was better than you,” Valkyrie told him sweetly, batting her eyes at him. “Now be nice.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, Lieutenant,” he scoffed. 

“Actually, this,” she said, pointing at her collar, “says I can.”

“Lieutenant Commander. Nice,” Phoenix congratulated. “When did that happen?”

“Like two weeks ago. I must have forgotten to tell Hangman last time we talked.”

“You just wanted to be able to rub my face in it in person,” he rebutted. “But that’s awesome. I’m proud of you.”

There were murmurs of agreement all around, her new squad mates reminding her that she may have had rank but that didn’t mean she could boss them around. She excused herself to the bar when Hangman began to run his mouth, not wanting to be caught in the middle. 

“Hey, Penny. Can I get another one, please?” she asked when it was her turn.

“Sure. Is it on Hangman’s tab?”

“Hell, if he’s offering to pay for them, yeah it is,” Valkyrie giggled. “I’m not turning down free drinks.”

“I don’t blame you. But watch out for him. He’s a player,” Penny warned as she handed over the bottle.

“Jake and I have known each other for decades. It’s not like that,” Valkyrie denied as she dropped a bill in the tip jar. 

Penny blew her a kiss as she walked away, and she smiled. The sound of a bell rang through the bar and Valkyrie shook her head, stepping out onto the back porch as she saw Hangman, Payback, and Coyote heading over to toss a customer overboard. The jukebox went out about the same time and seconds later, the piano started. She tuned it all out and lost herself in her thoughts, focusing on the waves crashing into the shore.

Footsteps behind her broke her from her thoughts and seconds later, Jake was by her side. They stood in silence, watching the sunset over the ocean together, something they hadn’t done in years.

“What’s going on in your head?” Jake drawled as he turned to face her, leaning back against a pillar on the deck.

“I’m glad we’re in the same place again,” she smiled, taking a position opposite him. “I missed my buddy. Almost as much as I miss sex.”

“Oh, I feel special,” he laughed. “Second fiddle to sex.”

“Ah, but you’re here now. You aren’t second fiddle anymore,” she pointed out, “you’re not even on the list.”

“There’s a list?” he pressed as he sipped his beer, watching her face.

“Right now, that list consists of sex and my great-grandmother’s cooking,” she informed him with a smile.

“Well, you know, I could technically help with one of them.”

“Since when do you know how to cook?” she joked, taking a sip of her beer. “The one and only time you ever cooked for me, you set the oven on fire.”

Jake rolled his eyes before replying, “Forgot how funny you aren’t. You know what I’m talking about. I happen to fuck better than I can cook.” 

“That is a low bar, Bagman,” she teased with a smirk.

“I also fuck better than I fly,” he winked, “and I’d be happy to show you.”

Valkyrie choked on her mouthful of beer, turning her head and spitting it out over the sand. “What?” 

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve been best friends pretty much since high school. Could just add the benefits to our friendship. It’s not like we’re going to fall in love with each other because we start sleeping together. If we were ever gonna be more than friends, it’d have happened by now,” he reasoned.

“Jake, no. No. I - what happens when one of us wants to quit and the other one doesn’t? Or if one of us does fall for the other one?” 

“It’s just sex,” he shrugged, “it’s not like I’m trying to marry you. Look, it was just a thought. It might even be mutually beneficial if this mission training goes like I expect it to.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she lamented, shaking her head.

He shrugged, “Okay, I won’t mention it again.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna head back to base. See you tomorrow,” she said as she stepped towards the door. 

“Is it you that has a no hug policy now?” he taunted.

She stepped back towards him with a smile and wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into his chest. “You’ve always had my back, Jake. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Always will, Val.”

Everything: @thelastpyle @deangirl93 @evergreencowboy @katelyn--renee @fictional-affairs @paintlavillered @buckys-zomdoll @polireader @b3autyfuldisast3r @welcometothefandommultiverse @mlovesstories @supraveng @xoxabs88xox

Top Gun: @princessmisery666 @evansrogerskitten @bradshaw-fanclub @saiyanprincessswanie @luckyladycreator2 @princessphilly @ahockeywrites @clints-lucky-arrow @wildbornsiren @w0nderw0man-reading @shanimallina87 @fuckyeahhangman @blue-aconite @hope-love-equality2 @peachiicherries @marvelousmermaid @therebeccaw @green-socks @imjess-themess @jostystyles @mayhem24-7forever @callsignaries @a-reader-and-a-writer @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

#writercole #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin #hangman #top gun maverick #the best benefits #part 2

[catboyglover]

“i like girls”, “i like boys” yeah ? well i’ve been having a hard time adjusting. i had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting. i didn’t know if you’d care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.

#taylor wrote this is me trying based off of me btw #taylor swift #folklore #this is me trying

[moirai-moros]

bar none · chapter one; wednesday (ao3 link) - pairing: rafael barba/dominick "sonny" carisi jr. rating: t, later prob. m+ words: 3672 summary:

“You’re really intending to sit the bar next week? In the condition you’re in?” “Yeah? I mean, is that so hard to believe? I’m just a little roughed up is all.” “Roughed up?” The counsellor repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You were shot by an assailant. You have a head wound. And you think that putting yourself through a bar exam is the correct way to recover from that?” With a sigh, Sonny sank back into the pillows on the bed. “Look, I appreciate the concern, Counselor, I really do. But I know you’ve worked really hard for things you’re not willing to give up on, even when the odds weren’t in your favour. Maybe it’s a dumb idea to assume I can think straight enough to pass the bar after hitting every stair on my way down, but I don’t want to… not try. I’ve put a lot into this, and I’m not givin’ up, not now. Not so close to the finish line.”

--

tl;dr; an A.D.A. helps a Fordham Law student revise for the bar from a hospital bed.

When Sonny came to, he immediately regretted regaining consciousness.

Everything burned, everything hurt, everything was too loud and too bright. Eyes adjusting to the offensive brightness of the hospital fluorescents and crisp linen bedding, his mind spun its wheels aimlessly for a moment - two - as he tried to regain his bearings. It felt like he’d been reset, roughly turned off then on again like the vending machine in the break room that was always on the fritz, and he certainly felt like he’d had the shit kicked out of him just as much.

“Carisi?” A voice spoke from somewhere beside him, one familiar enough to force him to focus his eyes and try to gather himself together enough to rejoin reality again.

Canting his head to the side - Christ, his head hurt - the image of an overly-concerned Rollins swam into sharpness. Brow furrowed, she looked like she hadn’t slept in some time judging by the rings underneath her eyes, one hand reaching forward and clasped around his own forearm - and dimly, Sonny realised where he was.

“Rollins.” He was aiming for that trademark Carisi-family confidence in his response, but to his dismay it came out as more of a grating croak. Ugh. “Hey, you look awful.”

The concern on her face was quickly replaced by surprise, then bemusement as she scoffed. “Obviously you haven’t looked in a mirror recently, but thanks for the compliment. Charming.” She pauses briefly, expression softening as Sonny looks around the room sluggishly, trying to piece the mess that was him in this hospital bed back together. “How are you feeling? Y’know, you gave us quite a scare back there.”

Back where?

It’s Sonny’s turn to frown as he turns his head back to rest position on his pillow, the effort too much to both keep up an appearance for Rollins and try to figure out what had put him in here.

Last thing he remembered… think, Sonny, think. Okay, so he’d been at work - that much he could remember, because he can remember Fin putting in their evening takeaway order (two chow meins, a bag of prawn crackers and a large fried rice from the Chinese joint two blocks away); he can remember them being interrupted by the Lieutenant as the prawn crackers had just been broken out, sending Sonny and Rollins over to check out a suspicious call placed by a witness on a case they were currently working; he can remember Amanda making snarky comments about his driving on the way there, and he can remember the just as snarky rebuttals he’d made in response (“Yeah, well, I can’t drive, but you can’t boil water without settin’ it on fire.”).

They’d turned up to the apartment block what, perhaps nine? Nine thirty? It was dark out and New York was sporting a classic miserable winter’s evening, because Sonny remembers being cold as all hell as he didn’t remember to bring his thicker jacket. A witness had called SVU in a relative panic, babbling into the phone incoherently about being afraid and paranoid, and “please, just come quickly”. The call had been so non-specific and hard to understand that the actual problem wasn’t really apparent, so Liv had sent him and Rollins to do a welfare check, especially since this was the only witness they’d managed to convince to stay on their rolodex for a potential testimony further down the track.

The case itself was a sticky one: hard to tie together and lacking a lot of concrete evidence, but flush with consequential evidence and obvious lines to draw together. The perfect combination to give the entirety of SVU and the DA’s Office a collective migraine, hence the overtime, hence the late night, hence the prawn crackers and quickly cooling tupperware of chow mein that had sat at Sonny’s desk. An elaborate front of high-school tutors - all young women, all decidedly underage, all listed like they were in a catalogue on an innocuous looking website - had been circulating the depraved underbelly of the city, money changing hands in legitimate-looking ways to solicit teenagers for exploitation. TARU had their work cut out for them, and no hard evidence had floated to the top of the bucket of scum yet. They had been attempting to ply overseas domain providers with warrants and as much pressure as SVU could put on, but aside from identifying some local girls involved with the ring, their work the whole week had come up with a big fat nothing.

That might’ve been why Sonny hadn’t really expected the way things played out that evening. The welfare check, by all ticks and balances, should’ve also been a bit fat nothing. But, as he’s starting to remember as his head threatens to tear itself into small pieces, it had definitely been a bit fat something.

The entire situation had felt off as soon as the lady had answered the door. Small things, that Sonny simply catalogues as a second thought now - the wobble of a voice, the watery look in her green eyes, the fact that she would only open the door a crack to show a sign of life to the people she’d called over just twenty minutes ago. Exchanging a look with Rollins as they stood out in the apartment corridor, Carisi had asked a couple of standard questions - was she safe? (“yes,”), was there anyone else at home besides her? (“no- … no.”) and then the fatal, could we come in for a moment?

Hm. Yeah, he could remember why he was here now.

The question had shot such fear into the woman that she’d fatally faltered in her act, eyes darting off to the side to some unknown player in the room behind her - and then, a flurry of action had unfolded. The door swung back on its hinges hard enough for the wood to scream as it slammed into the inside wall, a large man pushing his way out and essentially bowling over the two detectives standing outside, sending them staggering for balance as he made a run for it down the corridor. Sonny had already had one hand on his gun at the fearful glance from the witness, drawing it as he and Rollins took off down the corridor after him.

“Stop, NYPD!” He’d yelled in full sprint, handgun still trained on the figure as they rounded a corner to the stairwell. Of course, he wasn’t stopping but instead trying to jump the stairs three at a time, the detectives thundering after him and managing to actually close a lot of the distance despite the cramped quarters - and it’s when they catch up to the same flight of stairs that the man stops for a second and raises his own weapon.

“Gun!” Rollins shouted with urgency, turning to the far side of the stairwell’s wall to take cover. Sonny, already a third down the flight, had no such cover to turn to and faced with an aggravated suspect, he froze midstep and squeezed the trigger.

It all happened so quickly - the familiar pop of a gunshot, or gunshots? ripping through the air like a knife through canvas - and, well. Now?

Now, Sonny was here.

- hold on.

“Wait, I got shot?” He asked incredulously, voice tinged in disbelief. “I thought I shot him.”

“You got shot,” Rollins confirmed politely. “And, you fell down the rest of the stairs.”

“God,” Sonny’s voice came out as a mumble as he attempted to raise his hands to summarily bury his face in, but the pain that shoots up his right arm when he does so makes him swiftly reconsider. “You’re kidding. Ain’t no way I’m gonna live this down.”

“What, that you got shot in the line of duty? Are you serious?”

“And, I fell down the stairs. Is that why my head feels like I’ve gone twenty rounds in a ring with the Hulk?”

“Well, if you want the laundry list: you have a fairly major concussion, a gunshot wound in your right shoulder, and a sprained ankle.” Distantly, Sonny’s aware that Rollins was trying to keep things light, but even concussed he could pick up the underlying worry in her voice. “Let’s just say you’re not getting discharged tonight, and the doctor says you’re banned from - uh, how did he put it? - ‘any phones and whatnot’ for several weeks.”

“Several weeks,” Sonny repeated, eyes slipping closed as he desperately wondered just who the hell he’d pissed off upstairs to have eaten shit so hard while simply pursuing a suspect. “Several weeks.”

(There’s something important, something critical in his head that conflicted strongly with the idea of taking off ‘several weeks’, but the what, the why was too difficult to sort from all the pain and brain-fog. Too much effort.)

“Yeah. Look, I’ve got to go tell Liv that you’re awake - she’s been worried sick about you all night and I’m pretty sure she’s still hanging about. Actually, I’m pretty sure most of the crew are still hanging about.”

He’d roll his eyes at that, but his head hurt too much. Denied the pleasure. “Gloating?”

“Oh, shut up.” Rollins admonished, slowly drawing herself up from the hospital chair with a stiffness that belied sitting in it all night. “You might’ve taken a fall, but you got the guy too. You did good.”

Ah.

“Dead?” He croaked, cracking a tired look back at Amanda.

“Not dead.” She corrected. “Incapacitated. Luckily, incapacitated enough not to shoot at us anymore.”

Oh, fuck. That’s right, what an asshole he was being right now - “God, Rollins, I forgot to ask, are you-”

“I’m totally fine.” His question was cut off before he could finish it, but from what he could make out of Amanda’s face, she looked reassuring. Warm. Not shot. “Thanks to you, for really taking the brunt of it.”

Carisi laughs at that, a dry empty chuckle that makes him instantly wish he hadn’t. Everything burned. Everything felt like shit. But at least it had been for something, right? Even if his pride hurt as much as his brain did right now?

“You’re welcome,” He settled on as Rollins headed over to the door, eyes following her as closely as he could manage. Punctuating her exit with a tired grin; “Though if you feel real grateful, consider the large stack of overdue paperwork on my desk.”

All he hears is Amanda scoff again, and then the room is quiet.

He must’ve drifted off after that, because the next time Sonny wakes up it’s the morning, and the nurse informs him there’s more visitors.

Normally he’d be thrilled to be the center of such adoring attention, but he’d been having the most awful nightmare just before waking. God, it was terrible; to think that he’d dreamed that the bar exam was in a week, and that he’d put himself in a position where he’d injured himself so stupidly and so thoroughly that it’d be near impossible to -

Oh, sweet Mother Mary.

Draping his good arm over his face, Sonny swears under his breath at the sheer stupidity of the universe and all of its creations, yes, even those ones. So deep is he in his current Defcon-5 that he doesn’t realise that the nurse had let two people into his room, and those people had started to repeat themselves louder to get his attention.

“Carisi?” Olivia repeated, strongly enough that it gets him to lift his right arm to look in her direction. Standing at the side of his bed was the Lieutenant, and, strangely, A.D.A. Barba. He - what was he doing here? “Are you alright?”

“Fantastic,” Sonny quipped, his voice still hoarse. “Really great. I think I’ll put in for the New York marathon next week.”

Olivia simply gave him a look that said in no uncertain terms that she could now relax; he was being Carisi, and therefore, he was actually fine (in a relative sense). “Yeah? Noble, but I might hold off on that, actually.”

And right now, it’s easier to just maintain eye contact with the Lieutenant than try to figure out why Barba had tagged along, much less perceive the fact that he had. Here Sonny was, having flown down fifteen stairs and eaten the vinyl floor of a barely-liveable Harlem apartment, looking his worst, feeling his worst, and literally prostrate in front of the one person he only ever wanted to see the best of him. It was absolutely, thoroughly embarrassing right down to Carisi’s core, that he was lying in bed like a dumbass for being a dumbass right now in front of - him.

Him.

If only a giant sinkhole could’ve swallowed the entire apartment building up with him, then this could’ve all been easily solved, but unfortunately the sinkholes in New York never appeared where you wanted them to.

“Rollins gave me an update last night, but the doctors recommended that you got rest so we decided to leave you to it.” Olivia continued. “The squad sends their well wishes, though Fin passes on that he’s ‘commandeered your leftovers.’”

A dry chuckle escaped Sonny at that - and some mild regret. It was good chow mein.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure today?” Carisi asked with an attempt at light-heartedness, glancing up between his two visitors - especially since Barba had yet to say a word. Unnerving, and far too much stress for his battered head to handle. “The Lieutenant and the A.D.A.? Am I getting told off?”

It’s Barba’s turn to scoff quietly, and if Sonny knew any better, he’d say that the counsellor almost looked - concerned?

“Believe me, if that were the case, I would’ve done it already.” Barba stated, his gaze as piercing as ever. Unfair, Sonny thinks, because he’s already been pierced through-and-through by one thing in the last 24 hours. “Actually, I came along with Olivia to check on the suspect’s status - the People can’t prosecute the dead.”

Oddly, Sonny’s heart dropped slightly at the selfish thought that Barba hadn’t simply come down to the hospital to see how he was doing - but yeah, why would he? Better things to do.

“And?”

“You’ll be pleased to know he’ll make a full recovery.”

“Great,” Sonny replied flatly, allowing himself to close his eyes again if only because it was easier than witnessing this entire situation.

“I agree; he’ll be held accountable to the full extent of the law. A huge amount more satisfying than indicting a corpse.”

“Is this your attempt at bedside manner, Counsellor?” The detective groaned. “It could use some work. Like, a lot of work.”

Somewhere down by the foot of the bed, a quick inhale made it sound like Barba was about to retort but Olivia quickly cut whatever it was off with her own question.

“And how are you doing, Carisi? How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, fine,” Attempting to brush it off, Sonny looks back up at Olivia like it’d definitely convince her. It did not. “Honestly. I’m stuck here for a bit, but y’know. Gotta make the best of things. It’s not like I can un-shoot myself.”

Olivia sighed knowingly, her arms crossing over her chest. “Okay, well, is there anything that we can get for you while you’re holed up in here?”

“Nah.” - is his automatic response, because Sonny’s so used to looking after other people that the idea of being asked what he needs is so foreign that a thick, Staten Island-accented ‘nah’ is his go-to - but.

“Actually -” He started again, shifting up in bed slightly. The pain of doing so was apparently evident on his face, as he notices Barba’s eyes flick towards him as he does so. Unreadable, as always. “Could I trouble someone to grab some things from my apartment?”

“Sure. Clothes?”

“Nah, books. There’s a big stack of ‘em on my coffee table, but please ignore the absolutely-everything-else that’s lying around. Haven’t had a chance to clean recently.”

“Oookay.” The look on Olivia’s face suggested that she thought clothes were a far better, far more useful option in Sonny’s situation. “Anything specific?”

“Yeah, just - anything that looks like a law textbook. Uh, I wasn’t going to tell anyone because I don’t think it’s good luck before you know the outcome, but my bar exam? It’s in a week. I kinda need to catch up on study.”

The ensuing silent pause in the room was deafening.

“Carisi, do you really think that’s such a good idea?” Olivia replied softly, in the way that she did when she saw someone in the squad doing something monumentally stupid with their well-being, or their relationships, or their anything. “You’ve just gone through a traumatic shock. Perhaps it’d be better to just… put the exam off until you’re in a better condition.”

The frown creasing Sonny’s brow did more explaining for him than his words needed to.

“Nah, nah, that’s not an option. I’ve been working real hard for this, real hard, and I don’t want to miss the final exam just because I fell down the goddamn stairs. Jesus.”

“Got shot,” Olivia corrected.

“However you wanna put it,” Sonny replied instantaneously. “Just. Please, I’m going to go mad in here with the five cable channels they’ve got, anyway. I need to do something with my time, and it mayaswell be somethin’ useful.”

Raising her hands in mock defeat, the lieutenant shook her head with a faint smile on her face. “Okay, I understand. Look, I’ll get Fin or Rollins to go over to yours and get your stuff sometime today. In the meantime, you should get some more rest before you think about doing anything academic.”

“Yeah, yeah. Promise.”

Moving to leave the room and give Sonny some space, Olivia looks expectantly at Rafael, still standing stoically by the foot of Sonny’s bed. And now, Sonny’s looking at him just as expectantly.

“Counsellor?” The lieutenant queried as she opened the door to Carisi’s room. To both of their surprises, Barba raised a hand up briefly.

“Give me a moment,” He murmured in Olivia’s direction in a way that would make shivers run down Sonny’s back if he weren’t so worried about twinging his shoulder wound. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

And with a nod, the Lieutenant is gone. It’s just them, having an awkward, quiet stand-off in Carisi’s hospital room. Pity, because if he were in a better condition, Sonny would’ve made it a loud one.

At least the noise of him running his own mouth would take the edge of this situation, because now they’re alone, all he can hear is the thrum of blood in his ears and Sonny’s not a doctor but, y’know, he’s pretty sure that’s not a sign of his concussion. Unfortunately, things always got this way when they were in close proximity, and Carisi had been dismayed to notice it getting worse as time went on and they crossed each other's paths more frequently. What had started as an initial attraction when the A.D.A. had strolled into the precinct on his first day had developed into much more of a headache, which was even shittier when he now had an actual, splitting headache to contend with.

It was a sordid, shameful one-two punch of being both extremely attracted to someone in a physical sense and a professional sense, and for someone already feeling fairly sore, Sonny didn’t know if he could do this today.

“So I’m in trouble after all?” Sonny attempted to break the silence, a hand drifting towards his wounded shoulder. “Knew it.”

Barba ignored the deflection. “You’re really intending to sit the bar next week? In the condition you’re in?”

“Yeah? I mean, is that so hard to believe? I’m just a little roughed up is all.”

“Roughed up?” The counsellor repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You were shot by an assailant. You have a head wound. And you think that putting yourself through a bar exam is the correct way to recover from that?”

With a sigh, Sonny sank back slightly into the pillows on the bed. “Look, I appreciate the concern, Counsellor, I really do. But I know you’ve worked really hard for things you’re not willing to give up on, even when the odds weren’t in your favour. Maybe it’s a dumb idea to assume I can think straight enough to pass the bar after hitting every stair on my way down, but I don’t want to… not try. I’ve put a lot into this, and I’m not givin’ up, not now. Not so close to the finish line.”

“It’s not giving up,” Barba said quietly, his gaze meeting squarely with Sonny’s in a way that makes him want to curl his toes. “It’s doing it later.”

“I’m doing it now.”

The detective’s response comes out much firmer than he’d intended - not in an aggressive way, but in a way that made Barba’s shoulders relax slightly, as if he knew the battle he was waging was a lost cause. Of course, there’s an expression the counsellor’s wearing that is absolutely inscrutable, though if Sonny had to guess, it would be that he clearly thinks he’s an idiot.

So, imagine his surprise when the corner of Rafael’s mouth quirked up into a half-smirk as he crossed his arms across his chest, a combination that made the breath catch in Sonny’s throat.

“Very well - then I suppose the least I can do is make sure you’re ready. Fordham Law needs all the help it can get.”

- and the jab at his school goes completely unnoticed as the detective all but gaped at the unsolicited offer of help from the guy he’d never ask it from, but the one he’d want it from the most.

Want, well, a lot of things from the most, but -

The door closes, signaling Barba’s departure, and Sonny simply sits there staring at it.

#barisi #rafael barba #sonny carisi #law and order svu #fanfic #svu #l&o svu

[justanotherteenager14]

I’ve been having a hard time adjusting

I had the shiniest wheels now they’re rusting

I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back

I have a lot of regrets about that

I pulled the car off the road to the lookout

Could’ve followed my fears all the way down

And maybe I don’t quite know what to say

But I’m here in your doorway

I just wanted you to know

That this is me trying

I just wanted you to know

That this is me trying

They told me all of my cages were mental

So I got wasted like all my potential

And my words shoot to kill when I’m mad

I have a lot of regrets about that

I was so ahead of the curve

The curve became a sphere

Fell behind on my classmates

And I ended up here

Pouring my heart out to a stranger

But I didn’t pour the whiskey

I just wanted you to know

That this is me trying

I just wanted you to know

That this is me trying

At least I’m trying

#taylor swift #taylors version #mental illness #mental health #pop music #music #songs #this is me trying #folklore #folk music

[macgyvertape]

Is anyone really enjoying the difficulty changes? It feels like the casual enjoyment has been stripped out of a lot of mid-range PvE activities where it feels sweaty and the rewards aren’t worth the grind time.

Battleground Mars Nightfall exemplifies this, it takes 3 runs in Hero mode and it punishes you if you aren’t using a meta loadout. So that’s between 40-60+ minutes for one pinnacle, assuming your team doesn’t wipe in the last room to the infinite ads and 1 hit kill boss. I think its going to become the new worst GM, even not counting the 1 hit KO lasers, because the design is so that you fundamentally cannot play it slow. 

The first playlist defiant battleground (in regular difficulty!) I loaded into 10 minutes in and they hadn’t cleared the EDZ beach-head. I left and loaded into a fresh one in the cosmodrome map and it took 34 minutes including a section where it would revive us in the middle of a mob of enemies, champions, and turrets so we kept dying after a few seconds. I’ve since done a few more and I’ve never had a seasonal activity that took so long and felt so different playing with random players vs clan mates. 

Legend Solo Lost Sectors were already infamous for low exotic drop rate, with the sort of rumors of “if you haven’t gotten anything but glimmer after a few runs try leaving to orbit and coming back to reset it”. I enjoyed doing all but the moon ones as a way to try out new loadouts or do something challenging while chatting with friends. They fucking suck now since there’s no increase in exotic drops; the difficulty is 20 over the pinnacle cap so you’re at a disadvantage unless you bounty grind instead of the old system where Legendaries were at powerful cap

Fun fact, 20 difference in power mode is the same difficulty difference for Raid Contest mode. I don’t understand the reasoning behind locking additional loadout slots behind a flawless solo completion; new and casual players will struggle to achieve that much more than hardcore players, and hardcore players are more likely to not need this and already are saving tons of loadouts in DiM. With the difficulty so high, I don’t understand why Bungie doesn’t encourage teamwork or helping out clanmates and let it be a personal flawless completion with a fireteam. 

I regret not finishing all the triumphs for Master Wellspring, because what’s the point of doing it with increased difficulty with no increased rewards. Same thing with Legend Dares of Eternity, the difficulty has been increased but none of the bounties or rewards have been adjusted, and the Legend difficulty bounties were already a pain to do because you had to get it completed in one run and fight all your teammates for the kills. I have no comments on Vex Incursion zone because I haven’t gotten one to spawn. 

Legend Vexcalibur is a pain in the ass where with 3 people it feels tougher than a GM, but there’s no solo operator mod so the long fights where the ads are infinite are frustrating since if you wipe you’re repeating very long fights. Even regular Vexcalinur feels more frustrating than fun when doing it solo. 

In past seasons I played a lot of endgame activities, and I’ve talked about how I enjoyed the legendary Lightfall campaign difficulty a lot. However I don’t enjoy hard difficulty all the time, especially not in activities I’m going to have to run 30-40 times for the seasonal challenges. I’ve heard similar complaints about PvE difficulty changes from clanmates who don’t enjoy endgame activities at all, but they aren’t in fan spaces like tumblr. I know it's about 6 months of development time between feedback and ingame changes, so in the meantime I think I’m best served skipping all the seasonal stuff till week 10 and just doing raids and dungeons until then. 

TLDR: not sure if others feel like the new harder difficulty is the monkey paw’s result of Bungie transitioning away from power level grind, and if others are finding it frustrating

#destiny 2 #season of defiance #destiny 2 critical #putting that last tag just to be safe