#I made a decision

[miblue]

oh there's a fun fact about darlen. Can anyone guess what it is.

[lemmon-grove]

For my health, the health of me, my fucking sanity, I have decided to no longer read twst fanfics on tumblr. The girls on here are into some FUCK shit.

[omnipointmuses]

heck it

if Mocha is Mom shaped

Tea is Mega-Mom shaped =w=

[thistleanddown]

Joaquin's ten-year plan was simple: Get his bachelor's degree in environmental science (major forestry, minor conservation), find literally any well-paying job in that field, live far, far away from his parents, pay off his student loans, and maybe finally tell Daisy he's been in love with her since sophomore year.

By all accounts, Joaquin had done it. He'd graduated as valedictorian, found a lifelong career working to help conserve both California redwoods and sequoias (which are not the same tree, thank you very much), and was a comfortable 925 miles from home. And sure, maybe that last one was still a work-in-progress, but to his credit it was all wrapping up nicely.

And then Joaquin got bitten. Not on the job by a rattlesnake or mosquito, or at home by a spider. He was walking home from the bar--he'd insisted he was fine to walk, keys stashed safely in his pocket to pick his car up in the morning--and he was bitten.

Officially? His admittance papers listed it as an unknown canine, possibly a coyote.

But that wasn't what Joaquin had seen. He knows what a coyote looks like. For God's sake, he grew up in Albuquerque--coyotes were about as common as seagulls on the boardwalk! A coyote wouldn't run directly towards someone, snarling so loud Joaquin could feel it in his bones. Coyotes weren't twice his size. They couldn't pin him to the ground with a paw that felt too much like a hand, or leave a bite mark so wide and deep his scapula had chipped.

The paramedics who found him drop by to see how he is. They arrive after his second round of rabies shots. He's tired and sore, but they tell him he's looking good.

"We just wanted to follow up,"says one, an older man with silver-blond hair and crow's feet. "Do you have any idea what bit you?"

Joaquin sits up, wincing at the burning pain in his shoulder and chest, and succinctly says, "It was a werewolf."

Both paramedics blink.

"Werewolf?" Asks the second, who looks to be Joaquin's age.

Joaquin nods. The two look at one another, then to Joaquin, and back again.

"Werewolf,"the younger one repeats. "You're sure about that?"

"Yes, I'm sure! It's not an easy mistake to make. I know what happened to me. It was a werewolf!"

The paramedics look at each other again.

"We haven't had any werewolves in Fresno since the 80's,"the older one says. "Are you really sure? You were pretty drunk."

Joaquin blinks. He had two drinks. He's seen his chart--his BAC was 0.04%. Below the 0.08% legal limit and barely a buzz, but Joaquin refused to chance driving. He was still aware. 'Pretty drunk' as the paramedic had described was 0.17%--which Joaquin was nowhere near.

"Please leave,"Joaquin asks, suddenly so very tired.

When a different nurse strides in to change his IV, she asks what happened.

"It was a werewolf,"he tells the nurse, who doesn't even look up from her clipboard.

"Don't be ridiculous,"she admonishes, clicking her tongue. "Werewolves and most supernatural folk are rare here. It's too hot."

"I live with a vampire,"Joaquin says. "It's not too hot for her."

The nurse lets out a sigh, fixing him with a look that screams 'what do you want me to tell you?'

When the surgeon that had done Joaquin's stitches comes by to check on him, he holds his chart and laughs.

"I'd never seen a dog bite that big!"

"It was a werewolf,"Joaquin says again.

At this, the surgeon tilts his head.

"You sure? Looks more like a pit bull to me. Here, see how the teeth are arranged?"

He holds a photo of Joaquin's injury out to him. With the end of his pen, he gestures to the width of the jaw and marks out the shape, and Joaquin can feel those same teeth tear into him again. It's still the exact same wound. But, somehow, it suddenly looks smaller in the picture.

"So, you see what I mean?" The surgeon asks. "It's an easy mistake, but it was just a dog."

"Then why does it say 'coyote' in my chart?"

From behind wire framed glasses, the surgeon glares at Joaquin. He's still smiling, although it's thinner than before and doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"It does?" Asks the surgeon an a cold, even voice.

"Never mind,"Joaquin finally says. "Just-- When am I getting discharged?"

"End of tonight, thankfully,"the surgeon says, "You'll have to come back next week for continued rabies shots."

He goes to leave just then, but turns on his heel, brows creased in some form of epiphany.

"By the way, have you ever been tested for an anxiety disorder?"

Joaquin had been tested. He didn't have anxiety. He had a dopamine deficiency, inattentive-type ADHD, not anxiety. Even if he was, anxiety can't produce a hallucination powerful enough to see a coyote or a dog as a werewolf.

And yet, Joaquin can't help but wonder, briefly, if his diagnosis was wrong.

When Joaquin goes to fill his prescription, the pharmacist looks at the painkillers and antibiotics. Bushy brows raised high, he reads it over and over again, shocked at the potency of the medication.

"Good lord! What on earth happened to you,"he gapes.

"I got bit,"Joaquin says.

"By what?"

Joaquin's lips purse into a thin line. He doesn't answer.

[awildcardisactive]

Literally what the hell was Session 5 lol

[monotcchi]

dragon roast dreamin' 🍖💨✨

[robinhuntr]

You mean to tell me someone at DC saw this sweet little girl and said “drop a house on her. blow her up.”

[technically-human]

St. Hilarion's ghost story

[lightningant]

ronmort 1950s meetcute

addendum:

[thylacid]

could not sleep last night cause i was busy thinking about how funny it'd be for loop to come back on a onehat ending

[edenxroseyposey]

All That Remains

[morrriigan]

beautiful games i've played ➤ final fantasy x

"Die and be free of pain, or live and fight your sorrow! Now is the time to shape your stories! Your fate is in your hands!"

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 271

“Grandmother is visiting,” Damian suddenly said with no warning and with his usual not-quite demanding tone. 

“Who?” Tim wasn’t the only one to startle, seeing as Bruce had practically froze, a downturn to his lips in a silent show of confusion. 

Damian scowled. “Are you deaf Drake? Grandmother is coming to Gotham to, quote, make sure I am being properly cared for.” None of them had known that Ras was with anyone actually. At least Tim was pretty sure that would have been in the files. 

“Oh?” Dick didn’t quite crouch to Damian’s height but it was a near thing. “She-” “He,” Damian corrected, interrupting him. They all exchanged a glance before Dick continued. 

“Is he coming to the Manor or…” 

Damian scoffed again, a tiny bit of a flush against his face. “No, Grandmother will most likely be staying with Akhi-”

Now wait one moment-

“YOU HAVE ANOTHER BROTHER?!” 

[anistarrose]

to be honest when i see people say that "moral center" characters are boring, i'm like. well, to each their own i guess, you can have your taste and i can have mine. but also: 99% sure that's a straight-up skill issue on behalf of whoever's writing the characters you're thinking of. because when they're written well, characters at the moral heart of their story can also be interesting, complicated, evolving and contradictory, messy, flawed, in possession of Complexes, and most importantly, perpetrators of mistakes so tragic and devastating that they shape the entire narrative. and i know for a fact that all of that is true because of my best friend Lup Adventurezone

[lauraisakilljoy]

“we need more complex characters!!” if Lost were released today all of the characters would be cancelled immediately

[hinamie]

these 3 and their weird catty love triangle have bewitched me body and soul