#*tumbleweed rolls across your dash*

[walpsource]

♪ They named her Malala, Malala Yousafzai Rode into town and made the Talibanis cry Born in Swat Valley up in northern Pakistan Advocating for the rights of the woman ♪ ♪ Nobel Prize at 17 The baddest bitch you've ever seen Cross your heart and hope to die It's Malala Yousufzai ♪ ♪ Malala Yousafzai Malala, Malala, Malala Malala Yousafzai ♪

We Are Lady Parts 2.02 Malala Made Me Do It

[c00kietin]

oh darling its ok!! you're not alone!!

its ok to take time and collect yourself

its ok to take a break

you don't need to pump out drawings every single day or interact with us every minute

thank you <33

I enjoy being on tumblr and talking with you guys!! Sometimes I'm refreshing my dash loads and it feels like when you open your fridge over and over again expecting something new to appear. if that makes sense. I can mentally see a tumbleweed roll across my screen at times lol

the downside of being in a different timezone to almost everyone 😔

I just feel kinda groggy. dull. I'm not like mad or upset at anyone/anything, just blegh. Once it's the summer and exams are over I'll get better I hope <3

[marblecarved]

your muse's aesthetics as nature.

bold or italicize what appeals, or apply, to your muse. please repost, don't reblog !

fluffy white nimbus clouds. dark grey cumulonimbus clouds. a hurricane. grey cumulonimbus clouds. rainclouds. light spring breeze. a sherbet-colored sky at sunrise. hazy yellow skies. deep blue ponds of fresh water. blankets of sparkling snow. tornado winds. monsoon flooding. rich, orange sunsets. soft, purple clouds at dusk. heavy hail. the rumbling of thunder. icy sleet. gentle snowfall. moss-dusted tree bark. pink sunset clouds. grey winter skies. navy blue skies in the daytime. cool mist in the morning. leaf-bare trees. giant ocean waves. the full moon. a cracked, dry desert. rolling hills of prairie grass. sweeping waves of briny seawater. rocky, steep ravines. rippling canyon walls. spindly, cave stalactites. creeping, green ivy. lush canopies of leafy trees. dense, white fog. pebble-dashed canals. a peaceful creek of clear water.

flowering cacti dusted with dew, catching light in the morning sun. a bubbling, hot pool of volcanic sulfur. sharp, grey mountainsides. fossils nestled in chunks of rock. shining gemstone peeking out of rock. a white sand beach. deep imprints of animal tracks in the dirt. soft, squishy moss. uniform rows of birch trees in winter. delicate mushrooms popping up in spring from beneath the decay on the forest floor. tumbleweeds jerking in the faintest wind across the desert landscape. light rain. summer wildfires. a mixing of hot and cool air before a storm. silent lightning in the static of summer heat. a windy blizzard. thick flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky. a tree standing alone in a barren, yellow field. a desert of loose sand and tall, orange dunes. a pure blue sky. where water pools in tree roots. a river of molten rock. a grove of flowering trees. twisting, mangled roots sticking up from the muddy ground. bitter, cold winds.

tumultuous skies of stormy clouds. branches of lightning ripping across the sky. a foggy swamp. the tree-bare foothills of a mountain range. sandy brown cliffsides. rocky coastlines. the violent shaking of an earthquake. the mysterious sound of ethereal trumpets in the sky. the lights of the auroras borealis and australis. a black sand beach. a lone tropical island in the reef of shallow, aqua waters. underwater volcanic vents. a herd of migrating mammals. tree branches growing heavy with ripe fruit. light streaming down through the clouds. a field of lush grain wading peacefully in the summer breeze. the sound of insects and frogs teeming in the night. natural diamonds nestled in coarse desert sands. a frozen lake.

tagging: you ! if you see this on your dash and you'd like to do it for your muse, feel free to steal this from me !

[windscattered]

aesthetic: natural landscapes.

instructions: bold whichever aesthetically-pleasing imagery fits your muse to a T. italicize the ones that are only somewhat their vibe. repost, do not reblog!

fluffy, white nimbus clouds. dark, grey cumulonimbus clouds. rain clouds. a hurricane. light spring breeze. hazy yellow skies. deep blue ponds of freshwater. blankets of sparkling snow. tornado winds. monsoon flooding. rich, orange sunsets. soft, purple clouds at dusk. heavy hail. the rumbling of thunder. icy sleet. gentle snowfall. moss-dusted tree bark. pink sunset clouds.

grey winter skies. navy blue skies in the daytime. cool mist in the morning. leaf-bare trees. giant ocean waves. the full moon. a cracked, dry desert. rolling hills of prairie grass. sweeping waves of briny seawater. rocky, steep ravines. rippling canyon walls. spindly, cave stalactites. creeping, green ivy. lush canopies of leafy trees. dense, white fog. a peaceful creek of clear water. flowering cacti. catching light in the morning sun. a bubbling, hot pool of volcanic sulfur. sharp, grey mountainsides. fossils nestled in chunks of rock. a white sand beach. deep imprints of animal tracks in the dirt.

soft, squishy moss. uniform rows of birch trees in winter. delicate mushrooms popping up in spring from beneath the decay on the forest floor.  tumbleweeds jerking in the faintest wind across the desert landscape. light rain.  summer wildfires.  a mix of hot and cool air before a storm.  silent lightning in the static of summer heat.  a windy blizzard.  thick flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky.  a tree standing alone in a barren, yellow field. a desert of loose sand and tall, orange dunes.  a pure blue sky.  a river of molten rock.  a grove of flowering trees. twisting, mangled roots sticking up from the muddy ground.

bitter, cold winds. tumultuous skies of stormy clouds.  branches of lightning, ripping across the sky.  a foggy swamp.  the tree-bare foothills of a mountain range.  sandy brown cliff sides.  rocky coastlines.  the violent shaking of an earthquake. the mysterious sound of ethereal trumpets in the sky. the lights of the auroras borealis and australis.  a black sand beach.  a lone tropical island in the reef of shallow, aqua waters.  underwater volcanic vents.  a herd of migrating mammals. tree branches growing heavy with ripe fruit. light streaming down through the clouds. a field of lush grain waving peacefully in the summer breeze.  the sound of insects and frogs teeming in the night. natural disaster.

tagged by - i stole it from the dash

tagging - steal it

[ohgoddard]

Fist of Fire.2.17

The hot arid air of the Mojave Desert bore itself in the lungs of two men standing outside Clint’s Bar. It was an average biker joint, looking like a saloon of old stuck on the side of a highway going to a much more desirable place. The two men, some run of the mill looking bikers surveyed the horizon of the cracked and dried rock and piles of sand and saw nothing. The most activity they saw was a tumbleweed roll gently by them, carried by a wind that only brought more heat with it. Although the parking lot outside Clint’s was full, there were no noises coming from within the bar, but to these men that was normal. One of them took out a cigarette and lit it with his hands, coughing as the smoke filled his lungs. He then got a message on his phone, and looked. In almost synchronous nature, both men walked into the doors of  Clint’s Bar and locked them in their wake. 

All of this was seen and heard by a woman miles away, lying prone. She covered herself in dirt and desert weeds and held in her hands a pair of binoculars. Her blonde hair,colored to match the desert soil, was tied behind her in a practical braid. Her face, a light tan covered in more soil, was tucked under a hat with a shrub placed over it. For all intents and purposes this woman was hidden to any who looked in this direction, or even looked closely. She slowly shimmied herself back from the edge and took cover behind the backside of the hill she was spying over. Her hand reaches for a notepad on her belt, and she scribbles into it. After putting it away, she takes out a device. It has just one button on it, and begins tapping it in a series of dots and dashes. After this, she packs up, and begins hiking into the desert.

In the city of Cincinnati, there was a bank robbery going on. Terrified people ducked under cover as four giants ran down the street, chased by police cars. The crowded city streets were full of chaos, as these four giants were destroying parts of whole buildings and crushing cars. In the hands of each they carried bank vaults, the entire thing. They laughed uncontrollably, as when the police fired from their weapons they did nothing to pierce the skin of the giants. One of them, the presumed leader of the pack, turned towards another and yelled, “We’re gonna get away with this! No one can stop us!” Then, as his head was turned, a firetruck flew into his head. The giant did a full backflip then hit the road like a sack of bricks. The vault falling with a loud thud, and property damage, besides him. The other giants stop and look at their fallen leader with an expression of shock overtaking them, that is until one of horror comes. In front of them, floating several feet in the air to reach their eye level, was a muscular man dressed in blue jeans, a shirt that had a greek letter familiar to all, and a helmet that covered his head in its entirety. The helmet looked like that of a Trojan Warrior, with long accented faceplates and a netting underneath it to hide his facial features. The man had his arms crossed above his chest, and a booming voice came from his mask that was heard for blocks around.

“I don’t know how you thought no one could stop you. Don’t you read the news?”

At that the man moves at sonic speeds and spearheads another giant in the stomach, sending it flying back several blocks and into a large stone building, now unconscious. The other two giants drop their vaults and run, trying to flee, but are stopped when a dash of black and blue wake circles around their legs and they fall. Their heavy bodies hit the ground and, before a heavy punch is delivered to their heads, they see electrical lines had been wrapped around their legs.

Standing victorious over the giants bodies, crowds begin to cheer as they send accolades to the hero. Reporters run up to him, microphones ready and cameras rolling. “How did you know they were going to be here?””Is there anyway you could have caused less destruction?””Do you have any words for the people at home?””Will you attend the Colored Heroes Rights conference in July, as the most famous hero of color?” The man just stood there and said various nothings into the cameras, his voice quieter than when addressing the giants. “Damages are expected, I was just in the neighborhood, and of course I'm showing up to that! I’d be dumb not to.” He steps away from the crowds and picks up the giants by the wires holding them, rising into the air. “And for the people at home,’ he says turning his head towards the camera once more,”Stop committing crimes. I want to go home one day!” With that he became a blur and the giants were gone from the city.

A couple hours later, after the giants were delivered to the Ohio Powered Incarceration Center and the vaults given back to their banks, the man found himself sitting alone under a shady tree in the countryside. After looking around with a vision that extended for miles, he takes off his helmet. A short cut but neatly trimmed black beard and bald head greet the cool air with gratitude as he takes a deep breath. “Another day, another lock up.” He reaches into his back pocket and takes out his phone, and starts to go through his missed emails and whatnot, when he notices a notification from an app he usually never checks. Which meant…

He opens it up and examines the contents. They read: TRACKED-ETEAM-2-NV-STOP. ETEAM-IS-ALIVE-STOP. MORE-INFO-LTR-STOP. HEG.

He lowers his phone and sighs a breath of stress and anger. “You damned cockroach.” He stands up and grabs his helmet, and angrily puts it on. “No one does all this and keeps living.”

He then gets a call on his phone and answers. “Omegaman,” the voice says over the phone,”You’re needed in Detroit, danger rating 78%. Gravity monster.” Omegaman sighs and replies. “On my way.”  As he lowers his phone from his head, he looks to the skies.”I’ll get to you later, Emesh.” With that, he soars into the clouds.

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

“Oh my God mom, it's not that big a deal!” Jade sat in her living room while her mom played with her hair and sprayed something here, pinned something there, readjusted this and so on. “It is so! This is your first date in..” Jade’s mom paused, holding a can of hairspray away from her daughter. “Well, ever!” She resumed her pampering ,with Jade spitting as the spray got into her mouth. She was dressed in a white and red dress, and it was a stunning one. It had an open back and the red spiraled up the whole body while the white sparkled in the light. 

“It's just a dance, mom. It's nothing big!” As Jade spoke this, Joseph rolled himself in from the spare room he was staying in, a large purse laying across his lap. “Au contraire, Jade. This is the AHA’s summer gala. It happens once a year and you have never  gone to one and with your senior year coming up it will be your last one as well! You must go. And, you even got a date so that makes it all the better!” He places the purse at the side of the chair Jade is being forcibly fancied up in and retreats a safe distance from the cloud of product in the air. “Oh come on not you too!” Jade screams in mock pain as eyeliner is drawn over her face. “I don’t like makeup and -ack- Riley and I aren’t, like, official yet or anything so -” the spraying stops. Jade looks around and sees the very confused faces of the two adults. Joseph’s is far more confused that her mother’s, who is more disappointed than anything.

“Really? You guys haven't officially asked each other out yet?” Joseph was the first to speak, and it was filled with incredulous emotion. The fact that he was out and about as he was in the first place is a miracle, as his doctor had prescribed him several more days of bedrest(“I'm always sitting down, that counts, right?”). His voice has improved, and is sounding much like his old one.  It was because of this that Jade was the most taken back by his comment. “Why do you care so much? Isn’t shipping your students against the law or something?” Joseph gave a look of fake shock. “How could you! And no, it isn’t.” Jade’s mom speaks to her next, “Why haven’t you asked her yet, sweetheart?” Jade blushed and looked away from her mom, who began to apply more of the makeup she was carrying. “I dunno..just kind of hasn’t come up. There has been a bit that’s been going on.” Joseph coughed. “Oops.” Jade shot him a dirty look and he looked away, pulling at his collar in a joking fashion. “I’ll..I’ll ask her tonight. She said she’d meet me there anyways.” Her mom beamed when she heard this. “You know Jade, not too long ago you were a hot headed troublemaker who always got into the trouble,” Joseph interrupted with a “still is” and suffered a hit from Mrs.Laurens, “but this Riley girl has really done a lot of good for you. The least you can do is properly ask her out.”

Jade took a deep breath, “Yeah, you're right mom. That reminds me, “ she looks towards the clock on her mom’s oven. “It's almost time for me to go. Who’s gonna take me to the school.”

Joseph rolls over to the door, “I will. My car is outside.” Jade begins to get up, grabbing her bags, before stopping. “Wait a second.” Joseph gives great bellowing laughs, holding onto his wheelchair for support. Jade gives a harumph, obviously not happy to be the butt of the joke.

“Oh Jade, don't be like that,” her mom said, stifling a laugh herself,”he will actually be taking you there though.”

Jade looked at her mom, her turn to give an incredulous look. “How?” Joseph smacked his wheelchair. “We’re gonna take the train. Remember, the school has a lien that goes straight to it.”

Joseph opens the door and rolls out, looking back. “Coming?” Jade could not believe this was happening.

A few dozen minutes and a train ride later where everyone looked at Joseph more than her(which brought a great deal of relief, but a twinge of jealousy too) they arrived at the school station. Joseph got off, gave the finger to multiple people who asked about his accident, and Jade soon followed. “The nerve of some people,” she heard him mutter under his breath. He turned to Jade. “Now, go over what we talked about on the train.” Jade rolled her eyes. “Walk up to her, hand on her shoulder, ask her in my ‘manliest voice’ to go out with me. I just don’t think-” Joseph shhsh her. “Don’t think. It only makes things worse.” She gives a laugh, a nervous one, but still a laugh. A small smile appears on her face. “Thank you, Mr.Ellington.” She leans in and gives him a hug. “Now,” Joseph says after the hug is done, “I have to go to the teachers area to get ready for my round of chaperoning. I’ll see you in a bit. After the dance, wait for me here. I don’t want you walking the streets without me.” “I’ve done it tons of times what-” “Just wait for me. You’re a pretty teenage girl walking alone in a shit part of town. Different creatures come out at night.” She rolls her eyes. “Ok, whatever dad.” Joseph smiles and rolls off. “Have a good dance!”

A few seconds after he enters an elevator to take him to the school, Jade realizes what she said.Dad? She would have to think more about that later..some conflicting feelings have been affecting her recently. Thankfully, a good distraction just came off the next train.

“Well, hell-o beautiful.” Jade turned to see Riley step off in a spiff tuxedo, one that hugged her body. It's just about made Jade faint then and there. “Hh-hey! You ready?” Jade nervously stammered out. Riley walked up, took Jade’s hand, and kissed it like a prince. “With you? Always.” Jade’s plans went out the window.

[gwoongi]

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (6)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 5816

“All things end,” he stated, as a matter of factly. “We won’t be here to see the end of this, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe it’s better that way.”

a/n: see the bottom for more spoiler-y notes :D ((also lowkey shit of me but i totally used y/n’s relaxing technique as a-level shakespeare revision lmao sorree))

warnings: panic disorder, death references, dark imagery, Things Are Too Good To Be True >:)

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05. scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare ↝ 07. thrones

Trusting Namjoon was the easiest thing anybody could do in an apocalypse.

He moved with such confidence and power, his weapons newly re-stolen from the Weapons Containment, a flannel wrapped around his waist stained brown and rusty red. Every step was meaningful, pre-calculated, well thought out with distinct reason. He knew what he was doing. It made you feel at ease. Trusting him was easy.

Kyungmin stood close behind him, her own pistol in her hands, meanwhile Taehyung stood a little more to the right, with a new weapon in his hands, a large AK47 in his hands, his Scorpion pistol remained tucked at the back of his jeans. Huddled behind him, you couldn’t look away.

“It’s this way,” Namjoon called, not caring if his voice was loud. Up front, the sound of firepower and bullets attracted more dead than expected. It was a good enough distraction.

Crossing the width of the warehouse, Namjoon ushered the group down a small, narrow walkway between a series of large trucks, until pausing near a black truck towards the end of the driveway, the doors already open. Of course, he had the key, tucked in his bum pocket and he swiftly threw it up and caught it back in his hands: “get in, quick.” It was that easy.

With Taehyung already claiming shotgun, both Kyungmin and yourself pulled open the back doors to the jeep and climbed inside. It was cool inside, against the ebony leather interior of the car and as you pulled the jeep doors closed, the light is cancelled out by deep darkness. The only available source of light is the lofty slot separating the back to the front, where you could barely make out the shape of Taehyung’s head, and Namjoon’s hands wrapped around the wheel.

“What now?” Taehyung asked, adjusting the mirror.

Namjoon set the car into reverse, the dash lighting up. “Back gate. Never guarded, always closed. Saw it happen before, but the gate’s locked enough to keep the dead out, not enough to stop a van. Bust it open. Deadmeat will flood in, buy us some time to get out.”

“And then?” Taehyung enquired. He looked at Namjoon, “You have a plan, right?”

Namjoon waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, I have a plan. After everything we’ve seen here, I’d just like to go.”

“Can someone fill me in on what’s going on?” Kyungmin asked suddenly, and Namjoon leant over to slam down the shutter, cutting both of you out of conversation. Although not entirely silent, Kyungmin could no longer make out Namjoon’s words, or understand what was happening. Looking for answers, she turned to you, mildly mortified to see you hunched over with your head in your hands, dry heaving.

“Want me to hold your hair?” she asked sweetly and quietly, rubbing her thumb across your cheekbone. Glancing up at her, you barely nodded and her hands moved to hold back your hair. “‘sokay if you throw up. I won’t mind the smell.”

Distracted, you waved her off.

“Do you have anything to help you calm down?” she prompted, sounding worried. “Like a panic button? Breathing exercises?”

Exhaled breath. “Shakespeare.”

Kyungmin contained a smile. “Romeo and Juliet.”

The jeep lunged forward, and Kyungmin barely kept you on the seat. “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too…” The jeep rocked, as if running something over. Namjoon cursed loudly from the driver's seat. “Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.” Once again, the jeep jerked, making you bounce up and hit the top of your head off the roof of the jeep. “Kyungmin please tell me we’re out of the compound. I think I’m gonna fucking vom.”

Kyungmin let your hair fall like tumbleweed down the length of your back as she scooted across the bench, squinting through the dimmed glass window at the back of the jeep. Leaving behind the compound was a sight to see; she noticed the clumps of guards looking like ants further into the scene, and flashes of orange and white and smoke rising, thick black smoke, warnings. From what she saw, you hadn’t left the compound yet. The long line of military jeeps marked with “NORTHGATE SUPPLIERS” just kept rolling past.

“Not long now, Y/N,” she assured kindly. “King Lear.”

Half listening to you anxiously recite Act 1, Scene 3 of the play, Kyungmin turned back to the closed slot dividing yourselves and the boys and knocked heavily. Taehyung, with reluctance, pulled it down and peered through the gap.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his eyes leaving Kyungmin to stare at you next to her. “Why is Y/N reciting Shakespeare right now?”

“Coping mechanism,” Kyungmin replied as if it were nothing. It was nothing, in hindsight. “What’s going on? Are we almost out?”

“Just a little further, honey,” Namjoon interrupted, taking a sharp left around a group of guards running out of the back of the warehouse. They didn’t seem to care that a truck was leaving. Behind them, a small herd of biters slinked out of the double doors, their jaws disconnected, eyes hanging out.

Taehyung shut the slot once more, leaving Kyungmin to darkness.

She scoffed, returning to holding your hair. “Men think we can’t handle seeing what’s out there. It’s honestly bullshit.” Kyungmin shook her head, “Feeling better?”

You nodded in her hands. “Thanks, Kyungmin.”

Lifting your head, you found her hands hadn’t left your face. They continued to hold you, her eyes staring into yours. Although you were confused, you realised she was scanning your face for injuries and destress, her gaze lingering on several parts of your face and body before flicking back up to your lips, and then eyes. Maybe she hadn’t noticed, but her thumbs smoothed crescent moons across your face, her gaze unnaturally softened. Your hands had moved to her wrists.

It felt weirdly intimate, being given the luxury to simply gaze.

When the jeep jerked and bumped once more, you felt it was the best time to look away, looking backwards out of the dirty window to notice that you had indeed left the premises; the large barbed wire fence that divided dark civilisation from the idealistic, perfect reality had been busted down by the jeep, splinters of wire poking up like thorns on a rose bush.

As expected, Namjoon watched as a nearby flood of biters turned to the sound, half interested in the leaving jeep, eager to move into the compound. As quickly as the smile appeared on his face, it disappeared. Taehyung wagered it to the fact that a group of innocent people were back there. Probably good people, minus their anxiety and doubt and silly hope for the future.

Yeah, that was it, as Namjoon hit the pedals harder and pushed up the gas, speeding down the road, towards nothing, going nowhere.

It had been five hours since the “Great Escape”, as Kyungmin nicknamed it whilst bored in the back of the jeep. Namjoon had pulled the jeep up at an old abandoned trailer park, just down a wooden trail off the side of the main road you’d been headed down. Noticing the shift in light in the sky, it was his only other option, the stained sign covered in dust reading, “FERNLEAF TRAILERS” feeling somewhat reassuring, additionally secure.

Thankfully, it was empty, and quiet.

Stepping out of the jeep, after hours of being cramped in the dark, you had admittedly been surprised to see the location. Preserved by thick pine trees and lush emerald greens, this place seemed isolated from reality. It felt nice, to sink your feet after taking off your boots in the moss, and pillows of white flowers, tall stems of baby’s breath and ferns that had become dinosaur sized. The earth was oddly damp and wet and cool, nice to sink your feet into.

While Kyungmin and Namjoon decided to share a trailer closest to the jeep, Taehyung moved through the lines of abandoned trailers before picking safety over seclusion; he chose the middle trailer with two faded pastel deckchairs upturned by the wind, a ripped umbrella rested against the rusted wheels. The doors to each trailer faced one another, and Namjoon went back to the jeep to pull it between the two, creating a square of safety, blocked for the most part from anything on the outside.

By chance, the trailers were easy to unlock. Aside from the vesty smell inside and the flies gathering around unwashed dishes and spoiled tomatoes on the work surface, the trailers were in working order. Checking the bathroom and the bedroom, nothing seemed mysterious. The sheets were clean, aside from the dust, and mould grew in the bathroom. You were happy to see mould instead of a dead person.

The lights worked, although barely; a dimmed light burned in the living room of the trailer, and another in the back bedroom, appropriate for honeymooners, manipulative for survivors of an apocalypse. Everything felt...peaceful. Hovering near the doorway to the bedroom, Taehyung’s footsteps echoed across the flattened and matted carpet. Behind you he paused, looking over your shoulder at the tiny trailer bed, bigger than a single, only slightly.

“Looks cosy,” he commented, nudging your hip with his hand.

At that, you shuffled inside, looking out of the window and briskly shutting the curtains. It was better to be safe than to be sorry. The light could attract anybody, human or dead. Given your current circumstances, you couldn’t take the risk.

“You should get some sleep,” Taehyung said, his voice significantly quiet. As you turned you noticed him taking off his jacket, leaving it to hang over the back of the chair near the vanity- simply a mirror nailed to the wall, with a broken light above it.

“You too,” you frowned, testing the bed. It was hard. Better than the barn, though. “When’s the last time you slept?”

Taehyung shrugged, following you as you knelt on the bed. His weight caused the mattress to shift slightly.

“Not gonna lie, I slept okay in the barn,” he admitted, smoothing his hand across the sheets, “but a bed is nice.”

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. By then, Taehyung had already lay down on the bed, testing the waters. His head rested firmly on the brick of a pillow, his neck at a weird angle and elevated from the rest of his body. He lay there, like a body in a coffin, not moving, until he started to laugh quietly. Half taking off your jacket, you glanced at him.

“Why’re you laughing?”

“‘S’nothing,” he muttered, looking over at you. “It’s just- this is a really uncomfortable bed.”

Agreeing, you grimaced, falling down to meet his eye-line on the pillow next to him. You couldn’t afford to sleep in anything other than the clothes you already had. Everything else you had looted from stores before Northgate had been confiscated, and most likely dumped with all the other clothes Taehyung said to have saw. Wearing a shirt that was stained with orange, and had a slight sour smell under the arms, it would just have to do. From the looks of how close Taehyung had shuffled to you, it looked as if he didn’t care about the smell either.

He let out a large sigh, his hand finding solace in the wild tangles of your hair. Although he tried, he ran his fingers through the knots, untangling them, occasionally getting stuck and pulling with numerous apologies. Eventually he just stopped, his hand still cupping the side of your face, utter relaxation on his features.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said quietly, moments after you had closed your eyes. Opening just one, you noticed he was staring at you in the dark, only a dimmed light showing his expression.

“I’m glad we’re okay,” you replied, reaching to hold the back of his hand. “I’m glad we left.”

Taehyung nodded against the pillow. “Me too. Namjoon’s a good guy, he knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah. Kyungmin, too,” you added, remembering the back of the jeep. For whatever reason, you didn’t bother mentioning it to Taehyung. It felt like a personal memory, something meant for only you. You were sure he had some of those, too; memories stored away in a personal memory vault, forbidden to public access. You guessed you weren’t at that stage of companionship yet.

“I just want you to know,” he began to speak, but the words died out before he finished.

There was so much he wanted you to know. So much; so many details and trivial comments, observations made under the moonlight, promises he wanted to keep, memories he wanted to share. In that moment of staring at you from a second pillow, Taehyung felt the overwhelming desire to tell you everything. From his first memory, to his last thought. Everything was yours, if he only just spoke.

Noticing his own silence, he gulped and smiled quickly. “Actually, I don’t know. Never mind.”

“You can tell me anything,” you said quietly, smoothing your thumb over his hand. “Y’know that, right?”

His smile widening, Taehyung nodded against the pillow once more, shuffling to reach and plant a kiss on your forehead. “I know.”

“But for now-” He let out a sort of groan, rolling over on the bed with his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a position where your head was tucked under his chin, legs entangled and bodies flushed against one another- “Let’s sleep.”

At around 3:30am, you shot awake. You knew it was 3:30am by the blinking red lights of the apparently working alarm clock, on silent, nonetheless blinking red numbers.

Beside you, flat out, Taehyung lay undisturbed. As you sat up, forehead sweaty and damp with anxiety, you noticed that he shuffled at the loss of something to hug, his arms struggling to grasp onto something new before falling still entirely, the scent of your neck lingering on the firmness of the pillow. Outside, through the thin curtains, the curve of the moon glowed, and the slightly open window allowed a soft breeze to glide through. Had you opened that window, last night?

You climbed off the bed, and pulled away the thick sheets, replacing them back over Taehyung. Then, you moved from the bedroom in silence, grabbing Taehyung’s jacket off the back of the chair, and quietly opened the door leading back into the throat of the trailer, and padding towards the front door. Through the pane of glass, you noticed the light on Namjoon and Kyungmin’s trailer shining brightly, and through the bay-window at the front of the trailer, the familiar colours of a low log fire indicated somebody else was up and outside.

As if on command, Namjoon’s recognisable voice coughed from in between the two trailers, and you opened the front door and stepped down onto the mossy slabs, noticing that Namjoon had pulled four soggy deckchairs from the back of the trailers to the sit around the small fire. Whether he had heard you or not, Namjoon made no effort to turn around. He just continued to stare at the fire, wordless, thoughtless.

You slid into the chair closest to Namjoon, opting to look at the rising flames even when he looked over to see your face lit up by orange. He sighed, then, comfortable to make more noise.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, although he didn’t expect any different answer.

“Yeah. Nightmares.”

He scoffed humourlessly. “Me too, Y/N. Me too.”

You looked up at him. He wore an expression of worry and doubt on his face.

“Do you wanna talk to me about it?” you decided to ask. Even if you didn’t want to talk, you figured it was better knowing that somebody, regardless, was there to listen. In weird ways, it was comforting.

Namjoon twirled a random branch of tree between his fingers, fingering the soft leaves. “We should have told the others. Back at the camp, about Daniel.”

It made sense; looking back, you realised with guilt that not once was it mentioned that Northgate had murdered Daniel. And Jenny. And Clara, the woman whose name you only found out through grief and panic. They were good people. Even Harry, with his hothead and trigger-happy energy, the group you had left behind were good. Kind. Compassionate and loyal. In the spur of things, nobody had considered how Namjoon and Kyungmin must have felt leaving them behind. In that moment you were selfish, caring more about yourselves over anybody else. It was the only way to live, now. With the horde of biters heading into Northgate as you left, it was obvious that thinking about them was time-wasting. They didn’t make it out.

“We had no other choice,” you explained quietly. You even reached out to hold his knee, “Namjoon, there was nothing more you could have done. Mentioning Daniel...it would have caused more panic and distrust. It may not seem like it, but you did the right thing.”

“Did I?” he answered bitterly, looking at you sharply. He didn’t mean to sound so brisk. “There was room for them to leave with us. And instead we left them behind. I left them behind. My people, good people, Y/N. Young people, barely twenty- old people, who aren’t fit enough to look after themselves. Against Northgate, against the deadmeat...they don’t- didn’t- they didn’t stand a chance. I left them to die in there. That’s on me.”

You didn’t reply, because quite frankly, you didn’t know what to say. Of course it had been hard on Namjoon, as he walked away from people he trusted for months before Taehyung and yourself. You felt guilty for not even considering it.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself,” you said, finally finding words appropriate to say. He didn’t say anything in reply, just hanging his head low, his hands rubbing at the nape of his neck for some sort of excuse. “You did what you had to do, and yeah, it was a rough choice to make. But, in this world, you have to make difficult decisions. You can’t let it get to you, you can’t afford to.”

“They had children, Y/N,” Namjoon answered, his voice quiet and defeated, like the way a balloon feels after all the helium has been sucked out. “They had lives. Human life.”

“So did we.”

He looked up. Saying nothing.

Between the two of you, the fire continued to roar, its mane of orange and blood red fluttering wildly in the wind. Up ahead, the leaves on the trees had transitioned into Autumnal colours, flickers of hazel and mustard yellow against burnt brown twigs. Without really knowing for sure, you gathered that Autumn was definitely on the way. Removing his hands from his head, Namjoon fished his pocket-knife around a slimy tin of salmon, close to expiry. He offered it towards you, unbothered when you refused a bite.

“Do you think this will end?”

If he was being honest, Namjoon hadn’t expected you to say anything after that. Hearing your voice, barely above the flames, he was surprised. Swallowing the last chunks of salmon, Namjoon tossed the can into a trash-bag littering the floor.

“All things end,” he stated, as a matter of factly. “We won’t be here to see the end of this, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe it’s better that way,” replied your quiet voice.

Looking over at you, Namjoon noticed your gaze focused heavily on the flames, the colours burning into your retinas. “It definitely is. I don’t want Kyungmin here when the world goes to full-shit. This is already bad enough.”

The conversation had ended there, having realised that nothing was good enough for a response. After some time, Namjoon had stood from his chair, the dent rising slowly like bread in an oven, and his voice had carried a whisper of goodnight, the final sound of the trailer door closing separating life from barely-living. You continued to sit, staring at the flames, staring in silence until water pooled in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks, only to dry like clockwork from the flames.

At 5:16am, Taehyung woke to the sound of scuffling feet across the floors, but settled back into the mattress at ease when the bed dipped next to him, the familiar stale scent of your hair assuring him that, for now, everything was where it should be.

It’s raining.

You lay there, awake, staring at the dampening spot on the ceiling of the trailer, expanding out wider, droplets falling like tears onto the corner of the scratchy, homemade quilt. At some point, Taehyung must have gotten up, leaving the bed bare and cold as consequence, his body disappearing as an outline on the covers. Somewhere in the trailer, a noise cluttered against the side of the wall, and you sat up, feeling for your surroundings. As your toes curled in the matted carpet, and your fingers spread across the blankets, it felt oddly similar to home. Or something similar to home - the feeling of home has never been a constant.

Have I ever had a home?

The thought wanders.

From across the room, the door opened slightly and Taehyung rested his weight on the doorframe. It made a scary creak under his weight, and he crossed his arms with a vacant expression and smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he said warmly. “You slept good, when you came back to bed.”

Back. “Yeah, I got up in the middle of the night. Nightmares.”

He nodded, as if in agreement. “Heard you come back in. You feeling okay?”

Rising from the bed, you made your way to his body, deterred when he didn’t move from in the middle of the doorway, blocking your exist. With your hands on his biceps, you sighed and attempted to smile, convincingly enough that he’d move. His gaze did not falter.

“I feel good,” you replied truthfully. Inhale- “did you make tea?”

That distracted him. Taehyung looked back in the direction of the small kitchen, his smile widening, showing a display of strangely white teeth. Out the corner of your eye, you noticed toothpaste and three toothbrushes standing in a baby blue cup in the bathroom connected to the corridor.

“Yeah!” His voice seemed elevated with excitement. You hadn’t heard that sound in a long time. “By happy accident, I found milk in the fridge. It looks like someone was here recently, it doesn’t expire until two months time. Maybe they came from a farm with cows somewhere. There’s some tea in the cupboards, a little bit of sugar. PG Tips OK?”

You nodded, licking your lips. “Definitely. My grandparents used to love that brand. My cousins would always bring some back when they came to visit from England.”

Taehyung smiled more, then. “Yeah? Where’d they live?”

“Huddersfield, somewhere,” you explained, muttering thanks when he handed you a mint-green cup, the paint peeling on the handle. After a hesitation, you asked, “do you think everywhere else is as bad as here?”

At once, Taehyung thought back to what his sister had said about South Korea. President dead. Country in chaos. Cities destroyed. England, too, wanted to elect fucking Loki as the new Prime Minister. He told these stories with laughter, wanting to remember good over bad. Leaning your lower back against the work surface behind you, you laughed with him, sipping from the scorching cup.

“Burdened with glorious purpose,” you echoed. “Yeah-” snort- “he’d make an okay Prime Minister. I’d vote for him.”

“Isn’t it weird, when you realise that celebrities who had been superior to us all our lives are now probably dead somewhere? Or in the same boat as us? Or roaming the streets, without really being aware that they’re no longer alive, just simply awake in a rotting body?”

You set down your cup at the same time Taehyung set down the small teaspoon. “Is Donald Trump dead, yet?”

“No fucking clue.” He looked around from his cup of tea, nodding towards the chairs looking out of the window, down to the view of an algae covered lake that you hadn’t noticed driving in. Had anybody noticed it, disguised in with the green of the forest? “Doesn’t matter now, does it? The erasure of politics...about the only good thing to happen out of this.”

You laughed to that, sipping tea. “I always think about actors who acted in apocalypse stuff. Like Steven Yeun- think he’s knocking around somewhere? I mean, with an eye this time.”

“Too soon!” Taehyung whined, nonetheless smiling. “I think the same, though. It’s funny- the world is ending and we’re still grasping onto fiction to keep us going. Has the world really changed that much?”

“We gave up. This is karma, for all the bad things we’ve done to the planet,” you theorised.

Taehyung agreed, initially. “Probably.”

You left that there for a bit.

“What will we do, now? We can’t stay here forever.”

Kyungmin and Namjoon had come over from the other trailer, sitting in a bunch on the sofa, that had been pulled out to make a bed, or in this case, extra-leg room. The duvets they had carried over survived the heavy rainfall, remarkably being only damp and not ringing wet. Wearing socks from a drawer inside the trailer, Kyungmin let her socks poke out from the end of the blanket.

From the kitchen, you looked over at the three others sitting on the sofa. The TV was completely busted, static being a visual excitement, and Namjoon rose to crouch over the antenna, trying to find a signal to at least play the radio.

“I’ll find the roads again, take us all to Georgia. I can’t promise we’ll all make it,” Namjoon started, and suddenly, he trailed off. He said something he shouldn’t have.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung asked.

Namjoon fell short, his arms hovering over the antenna. He frowned. “I don’t think we’ll find a boat that can take us to Korea, mate. If along the way, we find enough gas to fuel a plane...I know a guy. Somewhere in Mississippi, last time I saw him. He’s a pilot, he knows what he’s doing. If I can just get to him, he can fly us out there. I know- it sounds insane, but I have to get us back home. To our family.”

You brought over a tray, balancing cups of tea and you set it down on the extended couch. Sitting uncomfortably close to Taehyung despite their being room for you to sit elsewhere, you took the mint-green cup and again sipped.

“Okay,” you nodded. “It’s on the way. It should be doable.”

Namjoon smiled gratefully. “I appreciate it, you guys. And, while we’re all together...I wanna invite you guys to come. To Korea. It’s in good shape- North and South have sort of...merged together. Created an area where all the infected are pushed into. Korea’s the promise land- nowhere safer. I know you have a group in Georgia, but...think about it, at least.”

Without looking, you knew Taehyung had already considered it. His family were still there, in the good parts of Daegu. Even though he hated to think about it, the chances of finding his sister again were growing slimmer and slimmer by the passing second. But, no matter how much Taehyung wanted to go to Daegu and wish all his problems away, he knew it wasn’t possible. Not any more.

No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.

Shuffling in his seat, Taehyung set his cup down on the small space between the sofa and the window. “I think we’ll head to Georgia. We’ve already come this far.”

His answer shocked you, that was undeniable.

“Are you sure?” Kyungmin asked, her voice small. Her hands barely fit around the circumference of the mug. “What if your group isn’t there?”

“Then,” Taehyung started, although he didn’t quite know how to finish.

What would you do if they weren’t there? Taehyung had already thought of thousands of scenarios, preparing himself for upset and disappointment, for grief if he found bodies, regret if he found walkers, delight if he found energy. Once you were on a boat, you could start new. Meet again as neighbours, looking over trimmed hedges drinking coffee that tasted bitter in the To-Go cups. Study together as students. Work together as colleagues. Grow closer over flowers in a vase instead of bones in a pile.

Or maybe you could find somewhere in the country. Somewhere further out to pretend that everything was okay. A ranch, or something, painted white surrounded by yellow grass and an oak tree with a swing, a fence surrounding the property, enough space to build a home. A family.

“Then,” he repeated himself, understanding now what he had to say. Taehyung looked over at you, curled up with your feet tucked between your legs, widened eyes looking up at him. “Then, we’ll find somewhere to stay. Somewhere where we can pretend to be okay.”

“Just as long as you’re both happy, then it’s okay with me,” Kyungmin beamed, settling deeper in the comforter and taking a long gulp of tea.

Finding himself looking back over, Taehyung met your gaze, confused by the way your eyes glassed over, in guilt, almost. He opened his mouth to question you, but fell short when you leant back into his armpit, his nose pressed to your hair only to be replaced by his chin, as he shifted to a position more comfortable. Namjoon carried on fiddling with the antenna.

“Give it a rest,” said Kyungmin, snapping to glare in her brother’s direction. He dropped with a heavy and loud gasp of breath, nudging the small TV with frustration. “What’re you doing, anyway?”

“Searching the lines,” Namjoon replied, as if it were obvious. Perhaps it was. “It’ll tune in and out.”

In reply, Kyungmin shrugged. She didn’t care what did or didn’t come up on the lines. Namjoon, however, did; even as he sat, half-listening to conversation, his gaze never left the TV. And when the lines fizzed and a quiet voice sounded through, he moved quickly, almost making Kyungmin spill her tea, lunging to turn up the volume.

“...don’t even know who still listens to this fucking shit anymore. But, I keep coming back to report, just in-case somebody is. Anybody.”

Kyungmin gasped softly. “Is that-?”

“Maybe I have new listeners today. Hi, shitheads, welcome to my podcast. I’m currently sitting in the disabled toilets in Huntsville International Airport. The locals around here call it Cuntsville, which I find really funny, because this area killed off all the women. I find that funny because it really captures how fucking shitty this planet has become.

My plan failed, guys. There are no planes here in Alabama. I had to endure a cassette loop of Lynyrd Skynyrd to get here, and for what?

I’m leaving Madison County, and I’m headed up to where-the-fuck-ever there’s another airport. Hoseok tells me that Virginia has planes. We’re going that way and I’m gonna get a plane and we’re gonna get the fuck out of here.

I’m calling, once again, to leave a message for my friends. Who may have made it, who the fuck knows. Point is, is that I’m willing to smuggle people out of America. We’re going to Korea, where it’s safest. Or Japan, they’re close, too, tighter borders.

Namjoon- if you can hear this, I’ll wait for you as long as I can. Forget Missy- I’m headed upwards, baby. Up and out the world. I hope you’re alive. I hope you’re okay.

See you soon. This is Kim Seokjin signing out.

May fucking God be with you, or whatever the fuck we’re saying now to keep us going.”

The signal cut off abruptly, and Namjoon let out a grand sigh and switched off the TV.

“Well, fuck.”

Later in the evening, when the sky deepened into ebony shades, you found yourself sitting with your knees tucked underneath your chin on the top of the caravan-sized double bed, fingering the loops in the blanket. The window was propped open slightly, the rain trickling down in patterns on the thick glass, a smell like the aquarium in your nose.

Taehyung closed the doors to the wardrobe, hanging up his wet coat and changing into a jumper from the left behind collection. He looked adorably warm, dressed in a teal jumper and uncomfortably tight jeans- there wasn’t much else to wear, in his defense. It was either jeans or nothing, and he wasn’t sure it would be decent to sit around with nothing on. Shakily lighting a candle burning with the scent of gingerbread, Taehyung moved to sit beside you on the blanket, his knees brushing against your feet.

“We can go,” your voice made him look up, puzzled. His lips slid to a frown. “To Korea.”

Taehyung swallowed his breath back in, afraid to sigh in fear of looking dejected, afraid to inhale in case he sounded afraid. “Our groups in Georgia.”

“I know. But, I’m thinking of the bigger picture,” you continued, letting your head fall to the side to gaze at him, the muggy light outlining your face with an overcast grey. Taehyung didn’t know what to focus his gaze onto. “What if Kyungmin’s right, and they’ve gone? Or they’re dead? You’ll only spend the rest of our lives thinking about what would have happened if we left with our group right now.”

He didn’t reply at first.

“And...honestly? I don’t care if we’re in Korea, Georgia, or stranded on the top of a tall building with no exit or food. I’m happy to be wherever you are. Even if it means we’re gonna die. I’ll just be happy to die next to you. Next to someone I care about. You’ve been with me through so much, and I’m sticking with you no matter what happens.”

It was then, and only then, when Taehyung lifted himself up from his position and fell forward, his arms gathering you up like a pile of sheets in his arms and he pressed his lips to yours in a quick, sweeping and gentle motion.

It barely felt real- so fast that it would have normally been missed. But the unmistakable feeling of his lips brushing and pushing against your own, dampened by his own saliva and the aftertaste of PG Tips...you recognised it as a kiss.

Your first kiss of the apocalypse.

Even when he pulled away quickly, the feeling lingered. The urge to finger your lips, to soak up the mere fantasy of kissing Kim Taehyung became unreal, but as you shyly looked up to meet his eyes, the sight of them made you cower away, pressing your forehead against his chest with your arms loosely hanging around his frame.

“I don’t care what happens,” Taehyung said quietly, his voice muffled by your hair in his mouth, “but no matter what, I’m with you until the end of the line. I swear.”

You smiled to that. “Are you quoting Captain America?”

“Aw, man, you caught that?”

Laughing, Taehyung realised he had never really heard that sound before. The sound of your genuine laughter; the mixture of your body moving up and down with every giggle, the muffled sound of a high-pitched cackle, softer than a witch but alike in vibration. He found himself laughing too, at the contagiousness of it.

“Me, too, Taehyung. I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, pal.”

notes: as the author of dork diaries once said...SQUEEE! i just wanna give a few notes bc i realise this can look a bit. weird? lemme explain: 1) their escape from northgate was easy for a reason and it’s gonna be further explored later in the series !! 2) this fic covers weeks and months and so the relationship between y/n and taehyung is not sudden; it’s actually really gradual and fair and believable? like imo it’s like 2 people who were forced to be together in an apocalypse sort of having nobody else to rely on and that translates into a sort of romantic love?  3) painting y/n as a stronger character in prior chapters but then as someone clearly very vulnerable now does not mean she is not strong- y/n’s panic comes from trauma from her past (father, mother’s death, origin story, yena....) and i actually think its super realistic to include mental illness and mental struggle bc thats not gonna vanish bc zombies are real  4) everything in this story has a purpose and just bc it’s not clear right away doesn’t mean it will never be explored because it will!!!! i promise!!!!!!!!

[prevdustinhendrsn]

chroma

jonathan byers/steve harrington 2.5k - read on ao3 new spring - part i. part ii. part iii.

a/n: it’s been almost an entire year since blue jay!! i never planned on expanding it into something more until several months ago so here is part two of a three-part stonathan series. this whole trilogy is dedicated to Lucy, who originally requested blue jay <3

Seeing Steve Harrington is not on Jonathan’s agenda today. In fact, it isn’t anywhere remotely near his agenda until his older-than-Rome, sorry excuse for a car stubbornly refuses to start in the school parking lot. He’s the last one there, having lingered to develop some photos he took the afternoon before. Two-thirds of them came out slightly blurry thanks to the minor tremble in his hands, but he’s not surprised. He doesn’t know if he even has the capacity to be surprised anymore.

A glance at the dash tells him all he needs to know. He slumps back into his seat with a heavy sigh, the fabric creaking under his weight as he presses his palms against his eyes. I filled up the tank two days ago. Just two days. Didn’t I? His hands drop to his lap. Out in the lot, a plastic sack blows across the concrete like tumbleweed, drifting and flying and finally getting snagged in the bushes. Didn’t I?

All his receipts are kept in the glove compartment, but he can’t find the courage to lean over and see if there’s a recent one from the gas station in there. He doesn’t really want to know the answer.

He shakes his head. He’s fine. He’s just not getting enough sleep because he’s cramming for finals, so things slip sometimes. It isn’t a big deal; this stuff happens to everyone. Tell that to the shaking, his brain snaps back to his half-assed self-reassurances. He glances at his hands, resting on the wheel. They’re not shaking. They’re just…

Whatever. He’s got bigger things to worry about than himself right now; namely, gas. He has to get home so he can shower, do some homework, get to his shift later. He mulls it over, watching the orange tree-shaped car freshener swing from the mirror. He could walk. There’s a spare gas can in the trunk, and the station isn’t far. On a day like this, with spring blooming in its full chromatic glory all across town, it would probably be a peaceful bit of solitude.

Or…he drums his fingers on the wheel, considering. For once, there’s no imminent obligations he’s got to deal with. His mom has her car and Will already rode home from school with Dustin so nobody is expecting him, and he doesn’t work until tonight. He could get some sleep right now, take a quicker shower than usual, get to work on time, and do the homework later.

His eyelids are already drooping now that he’s entertaining the idea. It’s a great idea, he thinks lazily.

His exhaustion doesn’t need to be told twice. He rolls down the windows and adjusts to a more comfortable position in his seat, letting his eyes drift shut. With the gentle spring breeze floating through the car and across his face, carrying the smell of a new season, he falls asleep in no time.

It doesn’t feel like long before he’s startled awake by the loud slam of a door. He glances around, surprised mostly just because he wasn’t expecting it. He doesn’t sleep deep enough to be disoriented upon waking.

There’s someone in his passenger seat, someone who evidently just arrived going by the sound of the door. But…it can’t be. Really? Jonathan squints at the person next to him. Messy hair that was definitely worked at, familiar sunglasses from the expensive store in the mall, that shit-eating grin that flip-flops his stomach even now.

Steve tosses his sunglasses onto the dash and beams at him. “What’s up, Byers? Get your eight hours?”

Jonathan sits back with a sigh, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “What the hell are you doing in my car?”

Steve frowns, feigning confusion. “The doors were unlocked.”

Jonathan decides that if he were an emotion incarnate, he’d be exasperation. Steve just evokes that response a hundred percent of the time. It’s a fond sort of exasperation though, since things haven’t been hostile between them in a long while. “Steve -“

Steve’s expression drops immediately back into a grin, not a care in the world in his eyes. “Dude, you can’t just leave your car unlocked with the windows down and not expect people to jump in.”

“I can, actually, it’s called human decency.”

Steve shrugs, already moving on as he digs through a white paper sack he brought with him. Jonathan vaguely recognizes the bright yellow logo on the side. “Hope you’re hungry,” he says, tossing a warm foil-wrapped burger into Jonathan’s lap. Belatedly, Jonathan realizes there’s two Styrofoam cups in the car’s cupholders as well.

He slowly picks up the burger, glancing over at Steve, who’s already peeling the foil off his own. “You...brought me food?”

“Well, yeah. Good shit, too. You ever been to Meg’s? By the park?”

“Um, which park?”

“The one with the metal slide that crisps your ass in July.”

He snorts. “Yeah, once, I think. With Nancy.”

A delayed moment after he says it, he realizes he’s not sure why he mentioned her. Maybe it’s just his conscience reminding them both that this is the second time they’ve been together without her, their buffer. Either way, Steve doesn’t seem to have noticed.

The burger is way better than Jonathan was expecting. He’s not sure when the last time he ate was. Did he have lunch at school today? He can’t remember.

After a minute, Steve hands him a packet of fries from the bag, nodding when he says thanks. Though Steve keeps his eyes fixed out on the parking lot as he works through his food, Jonathan can’t help staring at him. Spring really is a good look on him. It pinks his cheeks and softens his sharp edges, makes his laugh fuller and his eyes brighter.

I really am losing it, Jonathan thinks, forcing his mind past it. He picks up the Styrofoam cup closest to him and looking questioningly to Steve.

“Lemonade,” Steve answers after finishing the bite in his mouth. “Not poisoned.”

Jonathan sips at it. “How’d you know I was here?”

Steve shrugs. “Didn’t see your car at work when I drove by so I thought you might be doing pictures or something.”

Jonathan idly taps a finger on the steering wheel. Why were you looking for me? “How’d you know I don’t like tomatoes on my burger?”

Steve glances over, lips quirking. “Lucky guess.” A beat, then, “Your hands still giving you grief?”

Jonathan looks down. Why is it always Steve that seems to notice this, of all people? The only other person who’s mentioned it is Will, and like hell Jonathan is about to unload his minor issues on his little brother. He grips the cup a little tighter. “Yeah. But I don’t know why. I’m not actively scared; it’s not like I’m afraid of the dark or something.” That’s been a lie since eighty-three, but Steve doesn’t need to know that. “It’s just…anxiety, I guess.”

“Shouldn’t you do something about it?”

A dry laugh escapes him. “Like what? See a therapist? I’m fine, Steve. It’s just my hands not listening to my head.”

It feels like the truth, since it’s what he’s been telling himself for months now, and Steve mercifully decides to let it go.

It’s unexpectedly nice, having him here. He pretty much radiates self-confidence and relaxation, and Jonathan doesn’t have to keep up a conversation for it to be comfortable, so that’s two points to something good. But there’s also Jonathan’s recently developed crush that he has to deal with. It’s annoying, to say the least, because it just won’t leave him alone. It keeps him up at night, which is ridiculous, and it trickles into his thoughts during the day, in History and Economics and at work when he has nothing else to focus on, which is even more ridiculous. He’ll look down the locker hall to see Steve smiling at him, for absolutely no reason, and he’ll have to smile back because it’s contagious and fuzzes his brain. Honestly. Since when did Steve start smiling at him, anyways?

He forces his eyes back to the parking lot, thinking back to last week when Steve came by his house and they went for a walk. A walk. Never would he have expected that yet there they were, walking, talking, even laughing together, just because he had said yes when Steve asked.

He remembers the way Steve had set his hand on top of Jonathan’s to steady him so he could take a picture. Jonathan hates that he still isn’t over it. It probably wasn’t even a big deal to Steve. He feels like a goddamn middle schooler.

“What are you still doing here, anyways?” Steve asks, snapping Jonathan back to the present. “School got out, like, two hours ago.”

“I was sleeping,” he says exasperatedly, squishing his burger foil into a ball and flinging it at Steve’s head.

“Rude,” Steve quips, smiling anyways. “Don’t people normally sleep in their beds, y’know, at home?”

Jonathan glances at the dash just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things earlier. Still on E. “I’m out of gas.”

“So you were gonna dream some up?”

“God, you’re such a project sometimes, you know that?”

Steve grins. “Hey, I don’t judge. Dream logic is solid logic. I like it. What I am judging you on is the fact that you slept in the front seat instead of the back. Seriously, look at this,” he says, craning around in his seat. “There’s tons of space back here, weirdo. And honestly –“

He stops short, reaching out to something in the backseat. Jonathan frowns, turning. “What?”

Oh. Messily spread across the upholstery are the two dozen photos he just developed; he hasn’t gotten around to putting them away. Steve’s hand stops midair and he glances back at Jonathan.

“Can I look at these?”

“Um, yeah, if you want.”

Steve nods and grabs them all, resettling in his seat to go through them one by one. Jonathan watches his face as he does so, slightly unnerved. They’re mostly just nature photos and some candid shots of his family, but it’s still odd to have someone scrutinize them. He absently realizes that he actually cares what Steve thinks about them, about him. Of course he does.

Steve looks up at him halfway through the stack, disbelief painted on his features. “Jonathan, these are insane.”

Jonathan glances at the topmost photo. “It’s a creek in a forest.”

“It’s an amazing creek in an amazing forest because this picture that you took is so amazing.”

“It’s blurry.”

“Barely. Why don’t you sell these or something?”

Jonathan shrugs and Steve shakes his head, looking back to the photos. There’s a glittering hummingbird on a bright pink flower, a game trail worn into the brush-filled forest floor, a view from the edge of the quarry cliffs at sunrise.

“Man. You’re talented,” he finally says, handing the stack over. That fuzzy feeling fills up Jonathan’s head again as he takes the photos, their fingers brushing just so.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, replacing the photos in the backseat. Accepting compliments was never his strong suit.

A few quiet moments pass, the faint rustle of leaves making its way through the open windows, and then Steve says, quite out of nowhere, “I’m sorry.”

Jonathan blinks, looking over. Incredibly, he’s not surprised that Steve has just said those words. It takes him a second to sort out exactly what he’s feeling, but then he realizes: he’s surprised that he’s not surprised. Three years ago, sure, he would laugh at the idea of an apology coming from Steve Harrington’s mouth, but now…

He doesn’t know what to say. Steve turns away from the windshield to look at him, some unrecognizable emotion on his face. Longing, maybe. For what? Forgiveness? Him?

You’re losing it.

Steve holds his gaze, slightly desperate for Jonathan to hear him. “I really am sorry. I know that doesn’t cover it, but…I haven’t really said it to you yet, and you deserve to hear it, so. I’m sorry, Jonathan. And I get it if you’re not ready to be friends with me or anything. That’s not why I’m saying this. But I want you to know that I’m trying to be better now. I’m going to be a better person. And I’m not mad about Nancy, if you, y’know, thought that. If she’s happy with you and you’re happy with her, that’s awesome. Seriously, I want that for you two. So I’m just…I’m sorry. For everything.”

Jonathan can’t do much more than stare at him. He should hate Steve. He used to, and he has every right to still. But when he thinks about it, any anger he can muster is halfhearted at best. He knows it was Steve who cleaned up the graffitied movie theater sign three years ago without ever asking for any credit; a theater employee told him. It was a shitty thing to do in the first place and he should’ve cleaned it up regardless, but God, Jonathan is tired of holding grudges. How can people grow if there’s no forgiveness? The love Steve had for Nancy was true, even though they may not have been the best match. He and Jonathan haven’t talked about it, but when shit started hitting the fan for the first time, Steve had been there at Jonathan’s house to apologize to him. He didn’t even know Nancy was there. And he came back in to fight. Later on he helped the kids when he could have just skipped town and saved his own ass. He’s long since left his old friends behind, even though he knew doing so would leave him friendless.

He has me.

“It’s okay,” Jonathan says quietly. “I don’t – it’s okay.”

Steve eyes him hesitantly. “You don’t have to say that just because –“

“I’m serious. I don’t hate you. Nancy doesn’t hate you. You’re a good person, Steve, you just…made some mistakes, like we all do. But it’s okay.”

Steve blows out a long breath, his relief palpable in the way his shoulders relax. “Okay. Great. You don’t want me to leave?”

Jonathan shakes his head. Kind of the opposite, actually. “You brought me food,” he says, allowing himself a smile. “You get a pass.”

Steve’s expression turns a happy sort of incredulous, like he never expected it to be that easy. “I didn’t do it just to get into your good graces, you know.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “I know.” He hesitates, weary of the answer to his next question, but he decides to ask it anyways. “Why did you do it?”

Steve falters, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “Just ‘cause, I guess. I thought you might appreciate it. I know you’re always busy and stuff.” He looks up with a wry smile. “And believe it or not, I like hanging out with you, Byers.”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “Me too.”

Steve grins. “You like hanging out with yourself too?”

“Fuck off,” he groans, punching Steve’s shoulder. Steve laughs, full and light, and he pushes open the car door.

“Come on. You got a spare gas can? You can ride with me.”

Jonathan takes the few seconds he has alone to stare at himself in the rearview mirror. There’s a ridiculously happy smile on his face, a rarity his whole life. You really are losing it, he thinks.

It’s not so terrible.

let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from my taglist!!

@calpurnias @summer-in-hawkins @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @you-wont-lose-me @caseyk112

[super-sootica]

Episodes with Cas?  Dash is full of gifs, episode discussion for days.  People come out of the woodwork.

Episodes without Cas? Nadda.  Tumbleweeds roll across your dash.

[lavenderandsage]

Behind the Scenes - Episode Two

There was darkness at first.

A bleak nothingness if anything.

But then, a slow, sluggish awareness. An ebbing spasm evolving into a stabbing pain in her neck, an achy stiffness in her legs that begged to be stretched out. She blinked, assessing her environment and groaning lowly. She tilted her head back to an upright position and found that she still remained upright against the wall, her lanky legs sprawled out in front of her. Next to her, Jughead slumped over in a heap on his side, his feet pressed up against her thigh and his right bicep used as a pillow. The screensaver on his forgotten laptop changed slide to slide still but remained toppled over in front of him on the floor.

She gasped loudly. It was morning. She didn’t need a watch to tell her she was already late.

The sleeping boy stirred and groaned lowly, pulling his knees into his body and attempting to sit upright. “Oh, god,” he rasped out. “Ow.” He rubbed the back his tender neck.

Sage jumped to her feet hastily, scrambling for her rucksack. “Oh no, I fell asleep. We fell asleep! Son of a bitch! I’m late!” she exclaimed.

Jughead sluggishly looked up at his panicked friend. “I don’t remember falling asleep,” he moaned sleepily, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. The last thing he remembered, Sage had fallen asleep beside him and he resorted to typing out a few new paragraphs. He watched as Sage located her jacket and threw it on carelessly and swung her bag over her shoulder.

“Neither do I,” she said, frantically, realizing her feet were bare. “Where are my boots?”

He pointed at the end of his makeshift bed, crawling over and picking it up and tossing her one. “Hey,” he said softly.

She froze as she stood on one leg, hands fumbling to tie up her boot. “What?”

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I can’t be late Jug.” she furiously tugged on her other boot. “I have to go to school and I have a test. It’s part of my agreement with FP. I have to go. Maybe I'll see you around.”

With the mention of FB, Jug’s mouth instantly went dry. He nodded numbly, and before he could get another word out, she dashed out the door.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his laptop shut and got up and began to get ready for another mundane day at Riverdale High School.

For Sage, school didn’t hold much of anything. She didn’t get good grades and she didn’t like being forced to learn. It was simply an obligation and a bargaining chip. Either way, she found herself sitting at the Serpent’s table, munching loudly on an apple, when Sweet Pea and his best pal Fangs, plopped down beside her.

Both boys had food piled high on their trays and wasted no time digging in.

“You end up getting your beauty rest?” Sweet Pea asked through a mouthful.

Sage shook her head. “Not really. It sucks, cause I have a test in English today, that I’m totally going to fail.”

“Skip it.” Sweet Pea suggested, eyeing the table of people across the cafeteria.

Southside High had always been a mixed bag of colorful people. Southside had a strong reputation for drugs, gangs, and thieves which naturally begat, chaos. Anybody born of Southside usually stayed in Southside. Instead of being ashamed of it, most of the people were proud of their heritage. They embraced it and wore it as a badge of honor. For years past, the Serpent's had run the town, but as of late, new threats were encroaching on their territory, and the Serpents were weakened by the events of late. The rope was fraying, strand by strand.

“Stupid ghoulish fiends.” Fangs muttered, catching Sweet Pea’s glance.

“Does FP still have you tailing them?” Sage questioned.

Fangs nodded. “Yea, but so far, I don’t have much on them. I don’t know who or where they’re getting the heroin from. I just know that everyone wants what they have lately, not what we’re offering.”

Sweet Pea’s eyes clouded over, his fist curling angrily on the table in front of him.

“We’ll figure it out,” Sage said to diffuse Sweet Pea, swiping a fry off of Fang’s plate. “We always do. Hey, how’d you make out with the new girl, Sweets?”

Sweet Pea’s face lightened up immediately and he grinned wide, pushing his tray with his half eaten food over to Sage. “Swing and a miss. Toni said that she’s -and I quote, “more into girls.”

Sage and Fangs laughed boisterously. At the same time, Toni made her way over from the cafe line and plopped down with her tray and a pile of books. She looked between them bewildered when Fangs and Sage doubled over in another fit of laughter.

Sweet Pea shook his head. “Ignore them,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Toni, these are my friends, Fangs, and Sage.”

Toni smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you both. I think I saw both of you last night actually. I was there with my grandfather. Can anyone tell me why we’ve been having parties at the Twilight Drive-In of all places?”

“Ah, it’s just been our spot lately. We do a lot of deals there and it’s town property but the town’s given up on it finally. Sheriff Keller has bigger things on his plate, especially now.” Fangs explained.

That was true, but there was more to that statement which Fangs neglected to expand on. An outsider had paid the Serpents good money to trash the local spot, thereby decreasing the value of the land. Decreased value meant it could be purchased at a lower price. It was a win for everyone, except anyone that loved the drive-in.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

“Toni, we’ll see you at White Wyrm after school? ” asked Sage. She liked Toni immediately.

A smile graced Toni’s lips. “I’ll be there.”

As promised, the four of them sat in a back booth at the Whyte Wyrm.

It was a large, grungy place, with bad lighting and a constant reek of liquor and beer, but it was home for so many of the Serpents.

“So, when exactly did you complete the Serpent’s Dance?” Fangs asked curiously, leaning in. “And how did I miss that?”

“Oh god, Fangs,” groaned Sage.

Toni rolled her eyes. “You mean that outdated and sexist tradition? Back in the summer, like the end of June,” she replied bitterly.

“We’ve all had to do it.” shrugged Sage, although she agreed with Toni.

“Not the boys.” Sweet Pea smirked, flashing a row of his perfect white teeth

“Misogyny dies hard.” murmured Toni, annoyed.

“Seriously, how did we miss that?” Fangs wondered aloud.

“That must have been when we were on that run, dropping off stuff for the Blossom boy to pick up.” Sweet Pea reminded him.

Sage’s ears instantly perked up. She remembered the boy, whose hair reminded her of the red licorice that she used to steal from the Penny Store. He had found his way to the Whyte Wyrm and asked for fast cash. It came at a cost of course, but he was willing to pay.

Did he know it would cost his life?

“Who are you?” Sage asked him from the wooden steps she was sitting on.

“I’m here to see FP,” he stated with false confidence as if he had rehearsed it prior.

“What does a Northsider want with the Serpent King?” she mused, standing up to circle around him. He was taller than her and watched her move slowly until still stopped into the front of him, sizing him up.

Fear and doubt flickered momentarily in his eyes before it was replaced with determination. “I need money and you need runners that don’t look like petty riff rats. I’m here to talk with FP.”

She gnawed on her lip for a moment, slightly impressed.

“Sage, inside. I’ll take care of this.” a voice from behind her boomed with authority. She turned to see the Serpent King himself, standing in the doorway.

“Jason Blossom…” his name rolled off FP’s tongue like honey before he greeted him with a sly smile.

“Let’s talk, boy.”

“Sage!”

She blinked coming back to reality. “Huh, what?” she stuttered, looking up from her drink.

“I asked you if you’re doing the drop with me tonight, or if you’re gonna sneak off to see Jughead again,” repeated Sweet Pea, with a raised eyebrow.

Her mouth dropped open slightly, but she couldn’t come up with a defense.

“Yea,” he continued, running the pad of his finger along the rim of his glass. “I saw you last night.”

“FP’s son?” questioned Toni. “You know him?”

“We all do.” shrugged Sage. “In one way or another.”

“I don’t get it. Where is he? Why isn’t he with the Serpents?”

Fangs leaned forward, folding his arms on to the table “He stays on Northside territory now. It’s kinda a sore spot.”

Sweet Pea made a noise of disgust under his breath. “Traitor.”

Fangs continued, “Things around here have been… tough lately. Gladys moved up to Toledo almost a year ago after FP lost his job and when on a drinking binge. Rumor has it, she started up her own business and it could very well be an extension of the Serpents.” he whispered in a hushed voice.

“But Serpents don’t abandon their own…” Toni trailed off.

“And nobody knows if that’s true,” added Sage.

Fangs shrugged. “I don’t know. Tall Boy and Mustang have been stepping in a lot with these new threats popping up.”

Toni fiddled and ripped her napkin in tiny pieces, scattering them across the table. “Think Jughead will eventually join us?”

“That prick?” scoffed Sweet Pea.

“Hey,” Sage’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowed in a tight glare at him, “Say whatever you want, if he chooses, he’s next in line to lead this club.”

“If he wants it, and he’s made it clear… he doesn’t.” Fangs resolved.

Silence fell among them for a moment.

“To answer your question, Sweet Pea.” Sage piped up, softer this time. “Yea, I’ve got your six on the run tonight.”

Sweet Pea nodded curtly, still sour at the mention of the long-lost Serpent Prince. “Good.”

Sage hated that Fangs was right. Absolutely hated it. Jughead had no interest or intention in getting tangled up in the gang. In fact, since his mother and sister had left, he’d become more brooding and introverted than ever, almost a shell of himself. A tumbleweed, blowing from one side of the town to the next.

Her mind drifted again to the night before. Up until last night, she hadn’t seen him in months. It was so good to see him again. Like a breath of fresh air after inhaling stagnant polluted water.

The long summer months with the Serpents had kept her busy and working long hours. All the while, Jug stayed close to his Northsider friends, buried behind a book, a laptop or a milkshake.

As much as she knew he was never too far away, and as much as she missed her friend, it didn’t change anything. He didn’t want the life she needed and he moreover, he didn’t understand why she needed it. She didn’t understand why he was reluctant to be a part of something that was his destiny and flat out denied it.

But what Sage didn’t know, was how true Jughead’s words from the night before would be.

The worst was yet to come.

Author’s Note: All mistakes are mine. I have other chapters posted on Wattpad and Fanfiction but am slowly re-writing it as I work on sharpening my writing skills.  So don’t mind me! 

In the meantime, two fanfictions I’ve really been enjoying/obsessing over/binging are @rivendell101 ‘s Focal Point (4 part WIP) and @princesweetpea ‘s I Found. Go give those a read and send some love.  And send me some good reads to dive into too! Thank you! 

[grandschemed]

nature aesthetics!

tagged by: stolen ! tagging: @renegaede​ + dash ! rules: bold the natural aesthetics that appeal to / apply to your muse.  repost, do not reblog. feel free to add any natural features you see fit ! muse: salter

fluffy white nimbus clouds. dark grey cumulonimbus clouds. rain clouds. a hurricane. light spring breeze. a sherbert-colored sky at sunrise. hazy yellow skies. deep blue ponds of fresh water. blankets of sparkling snow. tornado winds. monsoon flooding. rich, orange sunsets. soft, purple clouds at dusk. heavy hail. the rumbling of thunder. icy sleet. gentle snowfall. moss-dusted tree bark. pink sunset clouds. grey winter skies. navy blue skies in the daytime. cool mist in the morning. leaf-bare trees. giant ocean waves. the full moon. a cracked, dry desert. rolling hills of prairie grass. sweeping waves of briny seawater. rocky, steep ravines. rippling canyon walls. spindly, cave stalactites. creeping, green ivy. lush canopies of leafy trees. dense, white fog. a peaceful creek of clear water. flowering cacti dusted with dew, catching light in the morning sun. a bubbling, hot pool of volcanic sulfur. sharp, grey mountainsides. fossils nestled in chunks of rock. a white sand beach. deep imprints of animal tracks in the dirt. soft, squishy moss. uniform rows of birch trees in winter. delicate mushrooms popping up in spring from beneath the decay on the forest floor. tumbleweeds jerking in the faintest wind across the desert landscape. light rain. summer wildfires. a mixing of hot and cool air before a storm. silent lightning in the static of summer heat. a windy blizzard. thick flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky. a tree standing alone in a barren, yellow field. a desert of loose sand and tall, orange dunes. a pure blue sky. a river of molten rock. a grove of flowering trees. twisting, mangled roots sticking up from the muddy ground. bitter, cold winds. tumultuous skies of stormy clouds. branches of lightning ripping across the sky. a foggy swamp. the tree-bare foothills of a mountain range. sandy brown cliffsides. rocky coastlines. the violent shaking of an earthquake. the mysterious sound of ethereal trumpets in the sky. the lights of the auroras borealis and australis. a black sand beach. a lone tropical island in the reef of shallow, aqua waters. underwater volcanic vents. a herd of migrating mammals. tree branches growing heavy with ripe fruit. light streaming down through the clouds. a field of lush grain wading peacefully in the summer breeze. the sound of insects and frogs teeming in the night. natural diamonds nestled in coarse desert sands. a frozen lake.

[angelusxreprobi]

NATURE AESTHETICS.

bold the natural aesthetics that appeal to / apply to your muse.   repost, do not reblog. feel free to add any natural features you see fit !

fluffy white nimbus clouds. dark grey cumulonimbus clouds. rain clouds. a hurricane. light spring breeze. a sherbet-colored sky at sunrise. hazy yellow skies. deep blue ponds of fresh water. blankets of sparkling snow. tornado winds. monsoon flooding. rich, orange sunsets. soft, purple clouds at dusk. heavy hail. the rumbling of thunder.

icy sleet. gentle snowfall. moss-dusted tree bark. pink sunset clouds. grey winter skies. navy blue skies in the daytime. cool mist in the morning. leaf-bare trees. giant ocean waves. the full moon. a cracked, dry desert. rolling hills of prairie grass. sweeping waves of briny seawater. rocky, steep ravines. rippling canyon walls. spindly, cave stalactites. creeping, green ivy. lush canopies of leafy trees. dense, white fog. a peaceful creek of clear water.

flowering cacti dusted with dew, catching light in the morning sun. a bubbling, hot pool of volcanic sulfur. sharp, grey mountainsides. fossils nestled in chunks of rock. a white sand beach. deep imprints of animal tracks in the dirt. soft, squishy moss. uniform rows of birch trees in winter. delicate mushrooms popping up in spring from beneath the decay on the forest floor. tumbleweeds jerking in the faintest wind across the desert landscape. light rain.

summer wildfires. a mixing of hot and cool air before a storm. silent lightning in the static of summer heat. a windy blizzard. thick flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky. a tree standing alone in a barren. yellow field. a desert of loose sand and tall, orange dunes. a pure blue sky. a river of molten rock. a grove of flowering trees. twisting, mangled roots sticking up from the muddy ground.

bitter, cold winds. tumultuous skies of stormy clouds. branches of lightning ripping across the sky. a foggy swamp. the tree-bare foothills of a mountain range. sandy brown cliff sides. rocky coastlines. the violent shaking of an earthquake. the mysterious sound of ethereal trumpets in the sky. the lights of the auroras borealis and australis.

a black sand beach. a lone tropical island in the reef of shallow, aqua waters. underwater volcanic vents. a herd of migrating mammals. tree branches growing heavy with ripe fruit. light streaming down through the clouds. a field of lush grain wading peacefully in the summer breeze. the sound of insects and frogs teeming in the night. natural diamonds nestled in coarse desert sands. a frozen lake.

tagged by Stolen from(technically--off dash): @confessingsinner tagging: @flowtheink @doodleddrollery @gospelofdismay @divinitywings @viderxanima and anyone else who wants to! ouo/

[marinaeque-testudinis-archi-blog]

{For Wesker}

NATURE AESTHETICS.

bold the natural aesthetics that appeal to / apply to your muse.   repost, do not reblog. feel free to add any natural features you see fit !

fluffy white nimbus clouds. dark grey cumulonimbus clouds. rainclouds. a hurricane. light spring breeze. a sherbet-colored sky at sunrise. hazy yellow skies.deep blue ponds of fresh water. blankets of sparkling snow. tornado winds. monsoon flooding. rich, orange sunsets. soft, purple clouds at dusk. heavy hail. the rumbling of thunder.

icy sleet. gentle snowfall. moss-dusted tree bark. pink sunset clouds. grey winter skies. navy blue skies in the daytime. cool mist in the morning. leaf-bare trees. giant ocean waves. the full moon. a cracked, dry desert. rolling hills of prairie grass. sweeping waves of briny seawater. rocky, steep ravines. rippling canyon walls. spindly, cave stalactites. creeping, green ivy. lush canopies of leafy trees. dense, white fog. a peaceful creek of clear water.

flowering cacti dusted with dew, catching light in the morning sun. a bubbling, hot pool of volcanic sulfur. sharp, grey mountainsides. fossils nestled in chunks of rock. a white sand beach. deep imprints of animal tracks in the dirt. soft, squishy moss. uniform rows of birch trees in winter. delicate mushrooms popping up in spring from beneath the decay on the forest floor. tumbleweeds jerking in the faintest wind across the desert landscape. light rain.

summer wildfires. a mixing of hot and cool air before a storm. silent lightning in the static of summer heat. a windy blizzard. thick flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky. a tree standing alone in a barren, yellow field. a desert of loose sand and tall, orange dunes. a pure blue sky. a river of molten rock. a grove of flowering trees. twisting, mangled roots sticking up from the muddy ground.

bitter, cold winds. tumultuous skies of stormy clouds.branches of lightning ripping across the sky. a foggy swamp. the tree-bare foothills of a mountain range.sandy brown cliffsides. rocky coastlines. the violent shaking of an earthquake. the mysterious sound of ethereal trumpets in the sky. the lights of the auroras borealis and australis.

a black sand beach. a lone tropical island in the reef of shallow, aqua waters. underwater volcanic vents. a herd of migrating mammals. tree branches growing heavy with ripe fruit.  light streaming down through the clouds. a field of lush grain wading peacefully in the summer breeze. the sound of insects and frogs teeming in the night. natural diamonds nestled in coarse desert sands. a frozen lake.

tagged by: @stylish-alastor tagging: @queen-yggdrasil @thecrystalizeddemongirl @unholybloodshed @terminusvitae @teamspider10 @prxdeofthelxons 

otherwise if you haven’t done/seen this recently and I’m the reason it’s on your dash now, tag, you’re it!

[stylish-alastor]

NATURE AESTHETICS.

bold the natural aesthetics that appeal to / apply to your muse.   repost, do not reblog. feel free to add any natural features you see fit !

( personally Imma just bold and italicize the aesthetics that Al likes, and bold and normal size the ones that apply to him )

fluffy white nimbus clouds. dark grey cumulonimbus clouds. rainclouds. a hurricane. light spring breeze. a sherbet-colored sky at sunrise. hazy yellow skies. deep blue ponds of fresh water. blankets of sparkling snow. tornado winds. monsoon flooding. rich, orange sunsets. soft, purple clouds at dusk. heavy hail. the rumbling of thunder.

icy sleet. gentle snowfall. moss-dusted tree bark. pink sunset clouds. grey winter skies. navy blue skies in the daytime. cool mist in the morning. leaf-bare trees. giant ocean waves. the full moon. a cracked, dry desert. rolling hills of prairie grass. sweeping waves of briny seawater. rocky, steep ravines. rippling canyon walls. spindly, cave stalactites. creeping, green ivy. lush canopies of leafy trees. dense, white fog. a peaceful creek of clear water.

flowering cacti dusted with dew, catching light in the morning sun. a bubbling, hot pool of volcanic sulfur. sharp, grey mountainsides. fossils nestled in chunks of rock. a white sand beach. deep imprints of animal tracks in the dirt. soft, squishy moss. uniform rows of birch trees in winter. delicate mushrooms popping up in spring from beneath the decay on the forest floor. tumbleweeds jerking in the faintest wind across the desert landscape. light rain.

summer wildfires. a mixing of hot and cool air before a storm. silent lightning in the static of summer heat. a windy blizzard. thick flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky. a tree standing alone in a barren, yellow field. a desert of loose sand and tall, orange dunes. a pure blue sky. a river of molten rock. a grove of flowering trees. twisting, mangled roots sticking up from the muddy ground.

bitter, cold winds. tumultuous skies of stormy clouds. branches of lightning ripping across the sky. a foggy swamp. the tree-bare foothills of a mountain range. sandy brown cliffsides. rocky coastlines. the violent shaking of an earthquake. the mysterious sound of ethereal trumpets in the sky. the lights of the auroras borealis and australis.

a black sand beach. a lone tropical island in the reef of shallow, aqua waters. underwater volcanic vents. a herd of migrating mammals. tree branches growing heavy with ripe fruit.  light streaming down through the clouds. a field of lush grain wading peacefully in the summer breeze. the sound of insects and frogs teeming in the night. natural diamonds nestled in coarse desert sands. a frozen lake.

tagged by:  ganked it off of @bigbadballad tagging:  @terminusvitae ; @thespellweaver ; @pawprintsonmoonbeams ( Sebastian ) ; @everwakingnightmares ( Wesker ) ; @exiledicesoldier ; @laverginedegliangeli ; @vanityaintnosin ; @channelinglightning ; @themyriadthoughts ( you choose the muse ) ; otherwise if you haven't done/seen this recently and I'm the reason it's on your dash now, tag, you're it!

[canis-inferorum-glaciei]

NATURE AESTHETICS.

bold the natural aesthetics that appeal to / apply to your muse.   repost, do not reblog. feel free to add any natural features you see fit !

fluffy white nimbus clouds. dark grey cumulonimbus clouds. rainclouds. a hurricane. light spring breeze. a sherbet-colored sky at sunrise. hazy yellow skies. deep blue ponds of fresh water. blankets of sparkling snow. tornado winds. monsoon flooding. rich, orange sunsets. soft, purple clouds at dusk. heavy hail. the rumbling of thunder.

icy sleet. gentle snowfall. moss-dusted tree bark. pink sunset clouds. grey winter skies. navy blue skies in the daytime. cool mist in the morning. leaf-bare trees. giant ocean waves. the full moon. a cracked, dry desert. rolling hills of prairie grass. sweeping waves of briny seawater. rocky, steep ravines. rippling canyon walls. spindly, cave stalactites. creeping, green ivy. lush canopies of leafy trees. dense, white fog. a peaceful creek of clear water.

flowering cacti dusted with dew, catching light in the morning sun. a bubbling, hot pool of volcanic sulfur. sharp, grey mountainsides. fossils nestled in chunks of rock. a white sand beach. deep imprints of animal tracks in the dirt. soft, squishy moss. uniform rows of birch trees in winter. delicate mushrooms popping up in spring from beneath the decay on the forest floor. tumbleweeds jerking in the faintest wind across the desert landscape. light rain.

summer wildfires. a mixing of hot and cool air before a storm. silent lightning in the static of summer heat. a windy blizzard. thick flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky. a tree standing alone in a barren, yellow field. a desert of loose sand and tall, orange dunes. a pure blue sky. a river of molten rock. a grove of flowering trees. twisting, mangled roots sticking up from the muddy ground.

bitter, cold winds. tumultuous skies of stormy clouds.branches of lightning ripping across the sky. a foggy swamp. the tree-bare foothills of a mountain range. sandy brown cliffsides. rocky coastlines. the violent shaking of an earthquake. the mysterious sound of ethereal trumpets in the sky. the lights of the auroras borealis and australis.

a black sand beach. a lone tropical island in the reef of shallow, aqua waters. underwater volcanic vents. a herd of migrating mammals. tree branches growing heavy with ripe fruit. light streaming down through the clouds. a field of lush grain wading peacefully in the summer breeze. the sound of insects and frogs teeming in the night. natural diamonds nestled in coarse desert sands. a frozen lake.

tagged by:  @stylish-alastor tagging: who ever wishes to do it here :3 otherwise if you haven’t done/seen this recently and I’m the reason it’s on your dash now, tag, you’re it!

[innisealga-archive-blog]

bold the natural aesthetics that appeal to / apply to your muse.   repost, do not reblog. feel free to add any natural features you see fit !

fluffy white nimbus clouds. dark grey cumulonimbus clouds. rain clouds. a hurricane. light spring breeze. a sherbet-colored sky at sunrise. hazy yellow skies. deep blue ponds of fresh water. blankets of sparkling snow. tornado winds. monsoon flooding. rich, orange sunsets. soft, purple clouds at dusk. heavy hail. the rumbling of thunder.

icy sleet. gentle snowfall. moss-dusted tree bark. pink sunset clouds. grey winter skies.navy blue skies in the daytime. cool mist in the morning. leaf-bare trees. giant ocean waves. the full moon. a cracked, dry desert. rolling hills of prairie grass. sweeping waves of briny seawater. rocky, steep ravines. rippling canyon walls. spindly, cave stalactites. creeping, green ivy. lush canopies of leafy trees. dense, white fog. a peaceful creek of clear water.

flowering cacti dusted with dew, catching light in the morning sun. a bubbling, hot pool of volcanic sulfur. sharp, grey mountainsides. fossils nestled in chunks of rock. a white sand beach. deep imprints of animal tracks in the dirt. soft, squishy moss. uniform rows of birch trees in winter. delicate mushrooms popping up in spring from beneath the decay on the forest floor. tumbleweeds jerking in the faintest wind across the desert landscape. light rain.

summer wildfires. a mixing of hot and cool air before a storm. silent lightning in the static of summer heat. a windy blizzard. thick flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky. a tree standing alone in a barren yellow field. a desert of loose sand and tall, orange dunes. a pure blue sky. a river of molten rock. a grove of flowering trees. twisting, mangled roots sticking up from the muddy ground.

bitter, cold winds. tumultuous skies of stormy clouds. branches of lightning ripping across the sky. a foggy swamp. the tree-bare foothills of a mountain range. sandy brown cliff sides.rocky coastlines. the violent shaking of an earthquake. the mysterious sound of ethereal trumpets in the sky. the lights of the auroras borealis and australis.

a black sand beach. a lone tropical island in the reef of shallow, aqua waters. underwater volcanic vents. a herd of migrating mammals. tree branches growing heavy with ripe fruit.light streaming down through the clouds. a field of lush grain wading peacefully in the summer breeze. the sound of insects and frogs teeming in the night. natural diamonds nestled in coarse desert sands. a frozen lake. the mournful howls of wolves. 

tagged by: @koyotii tagging: If you see this on your dash, you are hereby tagged!

[orionsangel86]

Hey tumblr people, friends, SPN family,

You may have realised that my blog has become the virtual version of tumbleweed rolling through a desert in recent weeks/months. I noticed on checking my blog recently that I have had an influx of new followers which I think is predominantly thanks to a shout out from Shirley (@destieldrabblesdaily) which I am infinitely grateful for because I consider her one of the best blogs in the SPN fandom. It is for that reason among others that I feel pretty damn bad about not being around recently to share in your speculation, meta and general love for the show.

I haven’t said much since the finale, or even about the finale. I never wrote an episode review for any of the last 3 episodes of season 12. (still haven’t seen 12x21 and don’t plan to) I guess I just want to explain why.

In the past few months SPN has been losing its grip on me, I guess I always thought this would happen one day as it always has in the past with other things that I have falling in love and obsession with until I just… well… get over it. Usually its when a show finishes or movie franchise ends though, rather than whilst it’s still going on. I haven’t felt that itchy desire to constantly check my dash, or write meta or obsess over speculation for the show lately at all. I tried re-watching season 12 and I just couldn’t maintain my concentration. I instead started watching other shows – American Gods is fantastic – and getting out a bit more as well. Tumblr kinda sucked me into this pit where my social life pretty much dried up and became non-existent. Though in all fairness, tumblr also got me through a pretty nasty stint of depression.

I keep hoping that this will be temporary, that perhaps when season 13 comes to our screens that I’ll jump right back in, but I’m not so sure. I guess I’ll watch it, but I don’t know how much I’ll participate in fandom in the future. I want to, I still have that desire to get involved but I don’t have the energy or desire to write meta about the actual show right now. I guess I kinda feel like everything is already being said by the other fantastic meta writers on tumblr and my opinion isn’t really needed.

The thing is, I am tired of SPN. I am tired of the game they are playing with us. I say this, knowing full well that they are dangling destiel in front of us like a carrot dangled in front of a donkey, so close but still so far. Eventually we will get our carrot – of this I am almost certain – but they sure as hell will continue to put us through a bunch of utter crap before we get there.

This is what I am fed up with. I did start re-watching season 12 and I just can’t fathom some things that drove me crazy. Like why when we were first introduced to the British men of letters, it was two strong women who ruled the screen, but by the end, it was another two generic white men to add to our already generic white guy cast. They could have written it in so many different ways to how they did.

Billy’s death pissed me off, so did Alesha’s and Tasha’s. By the time they took Eileen from us I was fuming. Then when they went and wrote off Rowena with an off screen death only told to us in description form I had given up.

On top of this they continued to write scenes of non-con, scenes of violence against POC and women that could easily be avoided whilst maintaining suspense and drama, a dodgy plot point centering around a women fighting her right to choose against the white men trying to take that choice away from her, and on top of it all, fucking Lucifer still being a big part of the show when his character should have died at the end of season 11. His entire story this season was so boring I wanted to skip most of his scenes. I hated HATED his character.

I’m sorry to be negative. The show did some wonderful things this year that I am so happy about. Dean’s story arc was wonderful. His confrontation with Mary in 12x22 had me in tears and I screamed FINALLY out loud as he opened up and admitted things that he has kept inside for his whole life. Dean held this whole season together he really did. The emotional plot was wonderful, it’s what kept me around until the finale because I could see Dabb’s plan for the characters emotional development so clearly in the subtext and later text. Well, until 12x19 for Cas because after 12x19 I don’t understand a fucking thing Cas did and I bloody hope he really has been mind wammied by Jack all this time because otherwise it doesn’t make a lick of sense for his character development.

Ultimately, what season 12 did that was GREAT was threefold:

It built up Dean’s emotional development to its climax where he has finally let Sam ‘go’ and admit the years of abuse he suffered under John, as well as admitting that he was a parent to Sam rather than a brother. Dean’s entire story throughout the whole series has been building to this point and it was WONDERFUL to see.

It built up Sam’s story in the same way, in that he was able to finally break free from under Dean’s wing and accept his own responsibility and place in the world as a whole – as a leader and hero – rather than something tainted and wrong. Season 12 signalled the end of Winchester toxic co-dependency and I was HERE FOR THAT.

It gave us destiel. Now, I say this with certainty guys, although I know it is still contested. Consider it my parting gift to you. Destiel is real and we are going there. Season 12 basically gave it to us because it did things that it cannot now backtrack on. I have never been more certain. Even AFTER 8x17, after Dean’s confession, after “He’s in love… with humanity” and “it was all about saving one human” even after 11x19 and our Hunting Husbands, I still had a whole bunch of doubt on the topic. Now though? I don’t see how it is possible to watch 12x10, 12x12, 12x19 and now, the end of 12x23 without being like “hang on a freaking second – what the hell actually is going on with these guys?” Destiel is gonna happen. This is my speculation for you. Cas will be brought back but he will be brought back wrong and probably under Jack’s control and will walk away from Dean – still crying at his feet – all cold and emotionless as if Dean was nothing to him. Dean will then stop at nothing to get him back. I predict that will happen around the mid-season finale and it will be a big moment for destiel. Another 8x17 but more intense perhaps? Another ‘crypt scene’ but this time with a love confession from both sides? Guys I see it. I can’t not see it now. The one thing season 12 did was take away my doubts. Destiel is real and it is happening and I am pretty sure we will get there by end of season 13.

The problem is, this is no longer enough for me. Even if Season 13 starts with Cas coming back to life in some spectacular beauty and the beast moment which ends in a kiss and a cut to their wedding day… its still not enough anymore. I can’t watch this series just for a ship. I can’t keep going for the fucking carrot dangling in front of me when my hoofs are bleeding and raw and my back is breaking from the weight of all the shit I’ve been forced to carry. The carrot isn’t worth it.

I used to adore this show. Not for destiel, but for the stories, the mythology, the characters and their colourful world of Supernatural things. Now, the characters are slowly reaching peak development and I am getting fed up of watching them get beat down. I want them to have their peace, their happy ending. The stories are no longer fresh and exciting. They are Lucifer and his ridiculous Nephilim baby/not baby.

I am also so fed up of Cas’s story not making sense, of him being controlled or brainwashed or forced to do things he hates. Of his absence when it makes no sense (like when Claire is involved and not a word is spoken about him) or of writers writing him so off key that he comes across idiotic. (thanks Bucklemming). I can’t keep watching the writers butcher this character I adore with all my heart.  

I am so so happy for Wayward Sisters and I will support it with all my might. If only because these writers need to UNDERSTAND that they cannot keep killing off the female characters on this show like they mean nothing. Its just heartbreaking to think that we will never get Charlie, Eileen, Rowena, Billy, Alesha or any of the other female characters who have been wrongly killed off in Supernatural join the female cast of this spin off. I’m excited for Wayward Sisters more than I am for Supernatural right now, because Supernatural is just a massive disappointment for me.

I am sorry I feel this way, its been eating at me for a while. I think it’s the reason I have taken this break. I just can’t put all my time and energy into something that feels toxic to me. I live in fanfic at the moment because it is the characters I adore without the awful truth of canon – even if occasionally canon does still give us those fanfic moments – it’s the other moments that are the issue.

*sigh*

I’m sorry. Part of me desperately wants to hold on with all my might, to come back and throw myself into speculation and meta and all the stuff you guys are so awesome at, but another part of me is so so bitter its preventing me from feeling any joy from it.

Maybe when season 13 comes on I’ll forget this post and just start this blog up again. I certainly miss talking to the bloggers on here I consider my friends, I just feel that without contributing to anything I have no purpose on Tumblr, and I don’t want my negativity to affect anyone else. So in the meantime, this is goodbye. I may still visit and reblog stuff occasionally, but I won’t be writing anything for a while. A long while probably.

It’s been fun Tumblr, but from now on consider this an extended hiatus. Perhaps I’ll see you in the Autumn… perhaps this fleeting romance is over for good. I won’t know until I know. As for Supernatural, I have said my bit. Expect Destiel along with a side of bitter disappointment. Wayward Sisters will be amazing though. So long as they don’t let Bob Singer or Bucklemming anywhere near it that is.