#anyways evergreen post

[businesstiramisu]

#ao3 was literally made in part to safely host thor/loki incest fics iirc (tag from toasthaste)

Astolat's original An Archive Of One's Own post doesn't mention thorki or any other particular ships, but she did write what is currently the fourth or fifth most popular thorki mpreg fic on the site

Do you think Naomi Novik ever looks at AO3

sees some incest mpreg

and whispers to herself “I never wanted this.”

[freedjustinemywife]

Thunder Legion death leaks —>

SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT!! for anyone concerned about the leaks involving the thunder legions death, its not all the leaks but its what i could find in such a short time!! (vpns are a nightmare)

theres not a lot of info HOWEVER THERE ARE SOME ENGLISH COMMENTS SORT OF EXPLAINING IT??

i HIGHLY reccomend checking out the tweet to vet it!!

heres a link to it

[stood-onthecliffside]

swiftie gift exchange for @catastrxblues

[inexplicably-spookified]

weedbot doodle

[sparring-spirals]

im thinking about bor'dor, towards the end of that brief and bloody battle, going "just do it", "take me out of my misery" "just turn into a giant spider while you do so?" and its like. its like tragically funny but also so. so fucking sad.

because its essentially about bor'dor exhausted and injured and knowing he wont live, going "do it", wishing for a quick end, surrounded by people who liked him and will now kill him because he betrayed them (they betrayed HIM- before he could know how much he'd like them). its about the resigned exhaustion of- what else do i have to lose?

Except I think about the devastated way Bor'dor talked about the loss of his mother, of his friends in the Ruby Vanguard, and the grief and the fear and the anger, and I don't think it's the first time he's thought that. Bor'dor joining the Ruby Vanguard at all, fighting a vendetta against the gods, is not someone who thinks they have lots of options. You don't generally agree to plans that could devastate the existing world unless you feel like you have more to lose than gain. Bor'dor, his magic a curse, his loved ones lost, the world cold and cruel and painful, being spun a tale of a world without gods, of a fight and a battle and a purpose, even if there are casualties, losses along the way.

Bor'dor, full of grief and rage, having lived a hard fucking life, being promised a solution, a world without gods, maybe thinking: what do i have to lose? they've never done anything for me. Then, he's watching a plan go awry, watching friends and comrades he'd made and bonded with fall to a bunch of- nobodies, cutting through them like it's nothing, remembering he does have things to lose. Bor'dor, knowing that the plan went wrong and his friends bodies are lifeless somewhere far away from where he is, lying furiously and ridiculously about being a shepherd and unknown magic to the suspicious faces of a bunch of killers. Probably thinking. what do I have to lose?

Except he eats with these people, he trades watches with them, he fights with them, he heals them, he shares a pipe and they share hopes and fears and pasts, and-

and he's standing as they all recoil from acid, everything falling apart, and. maybe he did have something to lose, after all.

[kirisclangen]

Larchpaw

She/her, 8 moons, cis molly

[eastbluefive]

(inspired by a comment i saw on youtube)

i need people to recognize the difference between a good team that complements each other and a strong team that are paired together

the thunder legion, excluding laxus, are a good team and they complement each other but they're not necessarily that Strong their magic doesn't really? grow? it's stagnant. likely because mashima just hasn't developed them more but it also makes sense to me, because they're curses aren't they?? the closest we get is freed and his magic is mostly runes and such that levy can also do for the most part so he's not necessarily stronger than her in that regard, so much as he knows more about it. he has a whole demon side but obviously that doesn't really matter against a literal devil slayer (cough cough) AND he got beat by a mirajane who hadn't transformed in years in that form so like 😭 plus the only reason gray lost to bickslow in the BOFT is because he got distracted yeah they're above like. people like macao and jet and droy but that's because their abilities have longer consequences (turning people to stone, stealing souls, etc).

team shadowgear we have literally never seen fight anyone together so who knows wtf they've got going on. i imagine their abilities complement each other with jet's speed, droy's restrictive plants and levy's script working together BUT WE'LL NEVER KNOW

team natsu is a strong team who don't necessarily complement each other at all so much as they just LIKE working together but they're all individually strong on their own enough that they wouldn't even necessarily need a team

[thegeekyartist]

Would any of my Star Trek mutuals be interested in beta-ing my Romeo + Juliet fic? I'm getting next to no engagement on it, which is really slowing me down. Having someone to bounce ideas off of/gauge reaction could be really nice <3

[thee-morrigan]

sometimes I think about changing holland's canon to the douglas branch if only bc she would be so good for him (and would also get to be disgusted on main with the mayor), but then I think about how much funnier (for me) it is to have her on the bobby branch.

like what do you mean Some Guy you dated for 30 seconds almost a decade ago is STILL trying to get you back. it will never not be hilarious to me to play through with that as the framing.

[spacepuppyart]

I've undergone a slight style change as of late, however,

I still wanted to include both in the same post.

"A retired popstar, a father, and a 2636 year old demon from another dimension. Sounds like Scott Evergreen."

A warpsider has 2 forms, a true form and a second form. The second form is the man you see standing on two legs, with the fuzzy foot coverings. His true form, is the behemoth on all fours.

[handbellanon]

AND DON'T WAIT UNTIL AFTER YOU CUT ME OFF TO DO IT

we’re a social species. use your goddamn turn signal.

[eddiegayass]

Why do I either have zero gif ideas or too many to choose from. And naturally I'm stuck at work when I have the most ideas.

[inexplicably-spookified]

post-evergreen caret

[magnetoapologist]

damn some people really hate peggy huh

[guess-my-next-obsession]

endure & survive | i. endure & survive

pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x single mother!reader

chapter content: MINORS DNI, written in dual POV/first person POV, no description/name given to reader, reader is a single mother, age gap (twenty-ish years), grief, gun talk/threats

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist | next chapter

READER

Everything was brutal in the wild open land that used to be this country before the world as we knew it crumbled before us. 

I’d spent fifteen years in the Denver QZ before I’d had enough. Food was scarce and often tainted with mold, animal droppings, or just plain inedible. Hunting and growing food wasn’t an option either, not in the crowded, dilapidated, concrete confinements of the QZ. The powers above tended to hoard all of the fresh shit to themselves anyways and hand out the scraps as if it was a blessing rather than a betrayal of the system they were put in place to uphold. But when you’re starving, even scraps and trash become appetizing. Sickening, most often, but appetizing nonetheless. Luxuries like new clothes, fresh sheets, a decent pair of shoes, and a place to take a warm shower were non-existent. All we had was all we had. You either made do, or you took from someone else. Someone dead, or someone you planned on killing. People like me--people who couldn’t stomach the violence against my neighbors as easily as some of us--chose to just make do.

It was a miracle that I made it out of the QZ alive. 

It was even more miraculous that I’d been able to survive out here in the open for as long as I had. 

Eight years, to be exact. But I hadn’t been alone for all of it. 

I used to have a partner, someone willing to brave the unknown and dangerous at my side, until a nasty bout of pneumonia we couldn’t treat took him from me. Kit and I were as close to married as two people could be in this post-apocalyptic world, and we’d made it longer than most people did outside the supposedly safe walls of the QZ. Together, we rebuilt the dilapidated cabin nestled somewhere in Wyoming that I still call home and built a secure perimeter, shielded by thick evergreens and overgrowth. He was with me for a little under two years out here, but even though he’s gone now, a piece of him remains with me. 

Our son. 

As I lay on the threadbare mattress tucked in the corner of the open cabin and count each of Colt’s breaths, I feel a familiar pang of longing and grief. Longing for his father. Grief that he’ll never get to meet him. 

He’s six now. Just entered that stage of troublemaker and explorer and everything that would stress out any parent in a normal world. But in this world—a world where one slip up could mean the end, or worse—it’s more than stress I feel. I’m terrified. 

It’s been months since anyone has gotten close to our safe haven, and even longer since I’ve come across an infected, but the threat is always there. When Colt was younger, it was easier to manage the thought of having to pull that trigger when someone—or something—got too close. But now I worry about what it’ll do to him to have to watch me kill in order to protect us. I worry it’ll change him, mark him for a dark and violent future he should have never had to chance. 

But I’ll do what I have to do in order to keep him alive. 

I’ll trek across the entire country, chart a boat and sail to new worlds, kill and fight and give my life if it means he has the chance to live his. 

For now, though, he’s safe and sound asleep in my arms, soothed by the rise and fall of my chest as I prepare for another sleepless night. 

JOEL

The mileage is wearing on me. I know it. The pain in the ass teenager besides me sure as hell knows it, if her snarky comments about needing to find me a cane or a walker are anything to go by. 

My boots have seen better days, but it’s been that way for years now. Usually, I’d have found some way to snag a newer, less worn pair off a dead man or tucked away inside some crumbling building, but I haven’t been able to take as many chances with Ellie with me. 

We’ve already had enough encounters with danger between Boston and wherever the fuck we are now. Clickers, tyrants, and more death than either of us would like. Kansas City alone was almost enough to take both of us out. I have no desire to test our luck all for the sake of warmer feet. Besides, Ellie’s shoes are alright. No holes, no soles coming apart. If she’s good, I’ll find a way to manage. 

But there’s no denying the limp in my walk, no matter how hard I try to hide it. It’s cold as hell out here in the woods, and at my age, with my past injuries, it’s taking a toll on me. My joints scream with every step, my back aches like it’s on fire, and that’s only the physical. 

My mind is feeling the wear and tear of this journey more than I’d like to admit. I’m panicky and exhausted and paranoid as all hell, and I can’t be any of that if I want to keep us safe. 

The kid’s gotten pretty good with a gun, but given our limited ammo supply, she hasn’t gotten as much practice as either of us would like. But at least I know if it comes down to it, she’ll know what to do. I cling to the hope that she’ll never have to put that knowledge into practice, but I know better than that. She’s already had to bail my ass out more times than I’d like. 

“I can see steam coming out of your ears with all that thinking, old man,” she says as she sits across from me at the campsite we’ve claimed for the night. There’s a fire crackling between us, big enough to ward off some of this icy chill but small enough not to bring too much attention. “Whatcha thinking about?”

I heave a sigh that has little to do with her and everything to do with the fact that I’m thinking about too fuckin’ much these days. 

Safety. 

Food. 

Warmth. 

Sarah. 

“Thinkin’ how much longer I’m gonna have to put up with this twenty questions shit you like to play,” I say instead of the truth. It’s easier if she doesn’t know what’s going on in my head. She’s just a kid, whether she sees it that way or not. She doesn’t need to add my shit onto her plate. 

“Well, we’re like…what? Only a few hundred miles away from Salt Lake now?” she asks, tracing her finger over the map on her lap. “All goes well, me and my charming commentary will be out of your hair in a few weeks.” 

Doubtful, but I don’t voice that thought. I still don’t have much faith in anything related to those goddamn Fireflies, but a plan is a plan. Tess made me swear to see this thing through with Ellie, and as much as I hate the fuckers, they’re still the only people that might be able to point me in the direction of Tommy. 

“What kind of music did you listen to back in the day?” Ellie asks as she folds her map back up and into her backpack, seemingly content to move onto another subject. “Wait—no, let me guess. Something old and boring like the Beatles.”

I scoff out of amusement. “First off, the Beatles aren’t boring. But no. More of a country music guy, myself. Merle Haggard, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Marty Robbins. That kinda thing.”

She shrugs. “Never heard of ‘em.”

“They were before your time,” I say, shifting my legs so that they lay outstretched along the thin blanket I’ve got beneath me to keep the snow from dampening my clothes. “Before my time, truth be told.”

“So you just like old shit, then,” she says, and I shoot her an unamused look. 

“Y’know, it’s been about twenty years since we’ve had any new shit come out, so anything you like listenin’ to is pretty damn old, too,” I reply before tacking on, “Smartass.”

“How old’s Nirvana?”

“90’s.”

“Pearl Jam?”

“90’s.”

“Shit. What about Metallica?”

“Jesus, that’s what you like listenin’ to?” I ask, shaking my head. “No wonder you act like that.”

“Like what? Totally fucking cool and wise beyond my years?”

“Was gonna say feral, but yeah, sure,” I say, fighting a chuckle. 

Despite the exhaustion, despite the fact that I’d long since forgotten how to laugh, this kid almost brings it out of me. She’s the total opposite of Sarah, and yet I can’t help but think the two of them would get along like peas in a pod. After all, their favorite pastime is the same—busting my balls. 

“Y’should get some sleep,” I say, ending her game of twenty questions before she talks me to sleep. “Sun’s gonna be up in a few hours, and we need to get a move on. Storm’s comin’ in soon, and last thing we need is to get stuck out here in it.”

“A little breaking and entering in the books tomorrow, then?” 

“If we can manage it,” I reply with a sigh, watching her as she rolls onto her side and stuffs her backpack beneath her head like sleeping out here in the wet snow is completely normal and not fuckin’ miserable. “Y’need an extra blanket over there?”

“No, mother,” she sighs. “Youth keeps me warm. Too bad those days are long behind you now.”

I roll my eyes and look up at the dark sky, counting stars to keep myself from chuckling. “Shut up and go to sleep, then.”

READER

A crunch outside wakes me from my sleep. I’m a light sleeper at best these days, a raging insomniac at worst, but that’s what’s kept us alive this long. My ears have trained themselves to detect even the slightest of unusual noises around the cabin. Even in my sleep, I’m able to distinguish the sound of an animal crossing our land from an intruder—or worse. 

Thankfully, this doesn’t sound like an infected or a clicker. I don’t have the mental or physical energy right now to deal with a rabid creature, for lack of a better word. 

I shift my weight carefully so as to not disturb Colt as he sleeps beside me, and climb out of our bed. My boots and clothes are still on, as are his—you never know when it’s going to be time to run, and the few minutes it takes to get ready might mean the difference between staying alive and becoming a monster. Grabbing the shotgun I keep beside the bed, I carefully step across the wooden floorboards of the cabin, avoiding the loose ones I know creak under even the slightest bit of weight. I don’t need Colt waking up and asking questions. Not when I don’t know who’s waiting outside. 

All of the windows are boarded up, save for a few peepholes I intentionally left for moments exactly like these. I’d be an idiot to swing my door open without getting a peek at what waits for me on the other side, shotgun or not. Sticking my eye up to the sliver in the old wooden boards, I scan the front of the property, taking in the thick blanket of snow covering the ground and looking for footprints marring its surface. When I find none in the front of the property, I move to the window on the side of the cabin, searching there, too. 

And that’s when I see our intruder. 

A man--older than me by a decade or two--carefully scans the clearing around the cabin, no doubt searching for traps. He’s lucky he’s managed to get this far without running into any. That, or he’s simply done this enough to know exactly what to look out for. 

When he nears the side of the cabin, only a few feet from the window I’m pressed up against, I force my breath to steady and carefully move back to the front door with my shotgun cocked and in hand. I don’t give him time to find his way up the steps of the front porch--that would be too close to Colt for comfort. Instead, I slowly, silently, open the door and step out into the icy cold. Tiptoeing across the snow-damp wood, I round the corner and lift my shotgun just like Kit had taught me all those years ago, aiming directly for my intruder’s head before issuing a single, clear warning. 

“You’ve got five seconds to turn around and forget you ever saw this place before I shoot your fucking head off.”

[rueclfer]

evergreen

𖤓 part xii. | series m.list | prev | part xiii.

touya’s phone is swiped out of his hands and onto the floor by a dirty wet rag. his head whips to the other side of the room to find you staring right back at him, white knuckled with another rag in hand.

“if i stopped caring, this would be easier for the both of us?” you repeat, taking stepping closer, “are you fucking kidding me?”

he’d be lying if he said that there wasn’t something surging through his body as he watches you storm over to him, abandoning your caddy of cleaning products. was it fear? excitement? attraction?

you throw the rag down against touya’s chest. he watches it fall onto the ground between his legs before snapping his gaze back up to you.

he says nothing for a moment, and instead adjusts himself on the bench of the wooden lunch table. you watch him lean back, cross his arms across his chest, and prop his ankle over his knee with nothing but a smug smile on his face.

he couldn’t bite back the smirk- not even when you looked like you were ready to kill him at this moment.

“i said what i said.” he shrugs.

you lunge at him.

this isn’t you. you’re not the type of person to get into physical altercations. you both know that. last night you couldn't even look at touya after the embarrassment of crying in front of him, but now you wanted to throw him into the ground.

your venom usually comes from your tongue, not your fists, but there's been something brewing inside of you since the summer started and now that you’re here with a two week grounding at your grown age, you’ve come to the conclusion that you have nothing left to lose. 

“it’d be easier,” you grab him by the collar of his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists as you push him into the table, “if you knew how to be honest and communicate instead of being a fucking coward and tip-toeing around the conversation we’re going to eventually have to have anyways.”

you hated how his eyes were gleaming. it was obvious he was enjoying himself, and seeing this reaction out of you may have been the highlight of his summer so far.

“we had that conversation, didn't we?” he cocks his head to the side with a lazy smile.

you shake him a little- tugging him back and forth before digging the edge of the table into his back again.

“stop looking at me like that,” you scold, "take me seriously."

“and there’s that scowl,” he mutters.

the more heat that prickles up your neck, the tighter you grip onto his t-shirt.

“can’t you be fucking normal and have a conversation with me? a serious one? or do you drop off the face of the earth and suddenly lose all of your comprehension skills?”

“well, fuck, sweetheart. when you’re screaming in my face and manhandling me like this, you make it kinda hard to concentrate.”

“you’re impossible,” you scoff, throwing him away from your grasp.

you stand up straight and take a step back, huffing out a breath of annoyance.

you and touya look at each other in silence. you watch him readjust his wrinkled and stretched collar while he watches the blood pool back into your hands. you still have that scowl on your face, and for a second you look like you’re a kid again- post tantrum, pouty, and ready to take your frustrations out on him when you don't get your way.

“there really is nothing?” you exasperated “you grew up and this is just the way that you are now? you turn seventeen and decide that nothing matters to you anymore?”

“seventeen,” he repeats, “is complicated and nothing that i want to talk about.”

not even to me?

there’s still a part of you that still feels bonded to touya no matter how many conversations you’ve had with yourself about letting him go. as if the feeling of being kids together will never leave you, even when he’s sitting right in front of you as living proof that it’ll never be that again.

“would you have ever reached out if you didn’t end up here this summer?” the question slips out of your mouth. you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know, but judging from the flash of shock on his face, you probably already knew the answer. “since you said you didn��t have a choice.”

touya presses his lips together into a tight line.

“yeah,” he sighs, “probably. eventually. i think.”

you slowly nod your head, “and what would you say?”

he blows out a long breath of air through his teeth and shifts himself in his seat, the wooden bench suddenly becoming uncomfortable.

“that i’m sorry? i guess?” he says under his breath.

all the time that had passed, and he still couldn’t get a grip on his words. something about his uncomfort with being vulnerable was comforting for you in a way, like it was the first nostalgic moment you’ve had with touya all summer.

“right,” you scoff, backtracking towards your side of the cafeteria. “nothing like the present, touya. five years later and i’m still waiting for that apology whenever you’re ready. or an explanation. or literally anything to make this summer less shitty than it already is.”

“lotta pressure for a guy like me, don’t you think?” he chuckles, standing up and grabbing his phone off the ground.

“call it accountability. we’re both adults now aren’t we?”

clearly, he thinks to himself, watching you grab your caddy and head towards the exit.

“have fun with the bathrooms,” you call out, throwing your middle finger over your shoulder before the door slams shut behind you.

a/n: drops this and runnnssss!!!! y/n: *screaming at touya spitting in his face about to break his jaw* touya: whoa *blushing* lmmmmaaaooo hi everyoneeee this is the slowest burn i've ever slowburned i need to move shit aasssaappp like 12 parts in and they haven't even had the TALK yet im abt to start losing it and make them makeout sloppy style behind the grimy bathroom shed

tags: (i think im capped out for tags so no longer accepting ppl for taglist sawwwwwyyyyyyy)

@iluv-ace @bitchyfestivalbouquet @redr0sewrites @babylambdietcoke @bnhabadass @hanmastattoos @1ndee @starsryi @nesrynsblog @twoplayergaymers @suksatoru @ita606 @pookiebear16 @fictionalcharactersownmyheart @in-the-marina-trench @haruhi269 @itgetzweird08 @ilophilia @chimimon @emluvs-sugu @punishblue @whorror-complex @akumakitsune21 @maddie-rose-1 @ixeyi @commonmisery @ggriwm @exselily @kryscent @starrmage @vannyinthestars @burnishingbagels @soobhns @kaybug88 @lantsovheiress @0skullyard0 @albakugo @sleepyk0dyz @blu3-l0v3r @bakugouswh0r3 @kaldurahms-lover @thoughtswithbbg @slothsmoths @reocidal @multi-write @stoned-anime-babe @i-simp-to-much @satansdaughter123 @haunted4love @annybah @linmabbe @boreaswrites @lostsomewhereinthegarden @hearts4heidi @makaroni-and-chez