#Outback Happy Hour

[writing-makes-me-human]

HEYYYYYY

I couldn't help but see your requests were open l😏

So I wanted to ask for a human reader who Neteyam finds but he goes to kill her and she kinda charms him so he stops?

Then they become mates, the story and stuff is all up to you but yeahhhh that's my idea

I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW AND I HAVE READ NEARLY EVERYTHING!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 

Thank you for the lovely words and your support it gives my writing purpose <3

Here is your request, I really hope you like it!

I named it Charming Killer after your request.

ps: If people have put in a request it is on its way!

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Part Two

Summary: You get chased into the wilds of Pandora with a broken communication collar and a bullet wound, but Neteyam finds you. He goes to kill you but an omen from Eywa stops him, and as he approaches you he realizes you are his destined mate.

Warnings: blood and injury were mentioned, nothing else.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I’m taking a quick little break from writing for the same two series and breaking out to some requests. Check my master list for my posting schedule for Love and Guests. And what are we feeling? Part two or keep this as a one-shot? (God why did I just offer to create a new series but also this is such a cool idea and I want to write more)

Neteyam didn't like humans, and he never had. His mother had raised him to stay away from them as much as possible, and he had obeyed to keep her happy, but as he grew up and his siblings came back from ventures to the human labs that lay beyond their village with stories about Norm and Max in their human forms, he found his simple obligation of dislike turn into hatred.

Neteyam avoided all of the dream walkers that operated in his village to the best of his ability. His father advised them not to bother his eldest son or his wife, which they respectably agreed to. Still, even if they weren't around him Neteyam could always feel their presence, and it irked him.

One day, this feeling cropped up in his mind as he was out in the rugged outback of Pandora, hunting a stray tapirus for his mother.

He jumped from a tree to the ground as he continued to track, but then as Neteyam pressed his fingers into the newest set of prints in the dirt, he smelt it.

It was the distinct smell that often surrounded humans, something of a mixture between an unnatural chemical smell and wafts of artificial scents that attracted them to one another. Still, to Na'vi, the smell was a distinct warning.

He raised his head, abandoning the hunt in favour of locating the emitter of the stench that was offending him.

He followed his nose for a few meters, and then with the tip of his bow, he dipped a low-hanging branch to divulge a clearing.

There, standing in the middle with not a soul around was you, trying to aid an injury to your lower arm and fix a device at the same time with only one working hand.

He quirked his brow in confusion. He had never heard of you from his father, which only led to one conclusion: you were a sky person under Quaritch's jurisdiction.

He watched you for a few seconds to take inventory of what you were doing all alone in the middle of Pandora without a jarhead next to you with a gun. He could tell immediately you were not military because you were pacing around in a circle, speaking a mile an hour to yourself, using words he didn't understand with no sign of a weapon anywhere on your person.

His eyes dipped to your arm, which you were clenching shut as blood dripped onto the ground and soaked itself into the fabric of your shirt.

You were in shock from what Neteyam could interpret in distinction to your actions. The wound didn't seem like it had come from an attack by any beast on his planet because you would surely be dead if that were the case.

The injury looked like a bullet wound which only charged his curious streak further, but you were human, and one less sky person on this planet was a plus for his cause. So, he nestled down on the ground and silently replaced the branch so he could pull back his bow and aim his righteous arrow at your head.

He felt his heart beat in rhythm with your steps as you desperately tried to fix a communication com device with one hand, fighting against the panic that was starting to take your breath away.

The wilderness was vast, and you could feel the race against time fight in opposition to the blood which was slowly collecting a trail by your feet.

He let out his breath and readied the shot, but before he could let it go, a seedling from the tree of souls floated into his vision and landed on his hand, a silent plea not to fire.

He was stunned for a few seconds and held his posture, but when the seedling took off again, he finally let his hands relax and brought the longbow back down to his lap.

He was captivated now as he tried to lean closer through the foliage to see your actions. Eywa had spoken, and he would not kill you.

He thought back to the story his mother had often told her children about how she met his father, and his nose scrunched up at the similarities between the two stories.

He decided he would not take you to his father, and he would leave you here. If Eywa didn't want him to kill you, that was fine but he wouldn't become responsible for your safety.

He had filled his hunger for curiosity, and the thought of returning to his hunting materialized in his brain. With that in mind, he turned to step away, but as soon as he moved, another seedling crashed into his chest, making him stutter back in an effort not to crush the precious soul.

The sound of crunching leaves caught your attention, and you rotated on your heels in the direction of Neteyam. He kept his head low and out of your sight before he shook his head at the seedling which hovered in front of his face.

You couldn't see anything, but the sound was distinct, so you darted your eyes around to try and find anything to defend yourself with, but your search was broken when you found a white seedling floating just to the side of Neteyam's hiding spot.

You gasped as two other seedlings joined the beautiful sprite. They all floated towards you, pushing air down as they climbed higher and higher up on their way to you.

Neteyam let his eyes leave the seed in front of his way and looked towards you. Your face was lit up at the sight of the seeds, and it seemed their appearance had taken all of your focus off the pain and the gadget in your hand because you softly stepped forward to greet the specimens.

He watched as you steadily reached out a shaky hand to the wood sprites, laughing uneasily as they all gently landed along the uninjured arm.

You looked so excited at their presence, and that confirmed his suspicions of your scientific origin.

You took another step forward, and Neteyam cursed mentally as he turned to leave, but again, the seed of Eywa stopped him with its stagnant stature. The sign was clear. He had to speak with you. He rolled his eyes and held back a sigh but acted to comply with the great mother's desires.

He stood to his full height and stared at you with a frown. You still hadn't noticed him, but when he smacked the lower branch away and tramped forward, the white sprites took off and left you to yearn after them with a sad stare.

What was so special about you? He wondered. You were just another arrogant human who was part of an unkillable mass that had arrived here with an open palm.

Your eyes then fell from the vacating pure souls and settled on the 10ft Na'vi in front of you, which caused a shriek.

Immediately you stumbled back and tried to start protesting for your life at the sign of his lethal bow, but you stopped when you noticed he was staring at you with an unwavering eye filled with mystery.

You called something to him, but he only understood the odd word. You had jumped straight into elucidating that you were not a threat which made him want to laugh. 

Of course, you weren't a threat. You were standing here like the perfect prey for any number of predators to pounce on and devour. He could kill you with a single toss, and the idea that he feared you was amusing him.

He took another step, and this time you crouched down, letting your hand leave the wound to try and coax him to stay away from you like he was a stray animal that could be redirected.

The bright blood on your hand shone in the light, your face was pale compared to the rest of you, and he felt a pang of pity for you, making him scowl at himself for his stupidity.

He stepped forward some more, his tail flickering behind him with agitation as he pulled the bow over his head and let the string fall over his chest.

"Who are you?" He growled as he marched further into the clearing.

His body was tall and very masculine, his muscles hugged his body as he looked down at you with contempt, and those were your only thoughts as the Na’vi man looked ready to murder you.

Your face wrinkled in confusion as you shrugged one of your shoulders at his words, your head shook from side to side in order to tell him you had no idea what he was saying.

He rolled his eyes at your conceited unknowingness, but just as he was about to start yelling at you, he paused as your scent hit him.

The standard note of human was definitely there, but there was something else, something sweet that had him hooked the second now that it registered in him.

At first, he thought you had used some chemical warfare on him, but when your confused face only intensified as he took a carnivorous inhale at the air, he knew the fragrance was only coming from your skin.

He took another stride, and the movement triggered your fight or flight. You tried to stand to run, but he grabbed your intact arm and gently yanked it forward, making you drop the communication device to the ground with a clatter.

You tried objecting to his harsh handling of you and cursed at him in English. He ignored you, and without further conversation, he shoved his face into the crevice on your neck and pushed your jaw up with his forehead so that your neck lay before him with no guard.

He took deep whiffs of your scent and nestled deeper so he could bring in as much as his body and the restrictive oxygen mask you were wearing would let him take. His tail flicked wildly behind him as he tried to commit the smell to memory. It smelt something crossed between a sugary treat and a warm fresh wood scent that made his brain fizz with the desire to have more of it closer.

He could feel your heartbeat on his cheek, but he ignored it. His need for the scent consumed him. He was only brought back to reality when you let out a whine at his very close touch that was making you uncomfortable.

He ripped his head back and shook it wildly, trying to shake off the remnants that tickled his brain. Your eyes that had originally been looking at him with confusion were now eyeing him up and down with uncertainty.

He dropped your arm and felt his body surge at the loss of touch. You faltered backward as he let you go but didn't try to run again, which he appreciated.

He was attracted to you, that was certain, and it made his body lurch with disgust, but before he could spend longer than a few seconds being disgusted, the scent of your skin drilled its way back into his brain, and he was overcome with butterflies that attacked his stomach.

You spoke again; this time, he identified the words 'Na'vi' and the name Max from your speech. He cocked his head, and you watched as his braids fell to one side of his head as he brought his face closer to yours to stare into your eyes.

You took a step back, but he followed you. He decided to ignore whatever you were saying and let his exploratory nature grab hold of him. He extended his head around to stare at your body, and you let him touch you as he pleased with your chest heaving in anxiety that at any moment he would have his fill of interest peaked and he would draw back to kill you.

His fingers came to your waist and gripped the lower hem of your elastic shirt, and pulled at it before letting it snap back, which made you smile a little despite the fear raging through you. Perhaps the blood loss was making you hysterical.

His ears twitched at the sound of your giggles that accompanied the smile, and his scrutinizing eyes turned softer as he reached forward and repeated the action, letting you huff with amusement.

He continued his curious search of you and let his fingers prod your cargo pants. You watched with your own set of prying eyes as he leaned down so he could gather the material between his fingers and rub it together to feel the texture. He let it fall back into place and pulled himself back up to his full height, which made your smile falter as you reminded yourself he was not a curious child and was a fully grown Na'avi hunter, if his bow was anything to go by.

The silence was loud, but it communicated volumes. You could tell by his erratic behavior that he wasn't going to kill you, but he was clearly fighting an inner conflict with his actions.

You didn't know much about the natives, but you knew one thing that had been hammered into your head since orientation day on this planet, Na'vi killed sky people on sight, and this man didn't look like he was reaching for his bow anytime soon, so what was he doing?

You tried your luck and reached out your hand to poke his bare chest before quickly retracting, making him let out his own small chuckle at your scared actions. You smiled cautiously before you reached out and ran a finger over the string of his bow that dug into his front, watching his chest shiver at your touch before you finally pulled back and stared up at him.

He let his smile disappear, and his frown replaced it as he stuck out his hand to grab your oxygen mask, but this seemed to be a step too far because you pulled back and quietly said something he didn't understand, but he knew it was a denial.

He was satisfied with his investigation and pulled himself back to look down at you while you awkwardly returned your hand to clutching the hole in your body that wasn't meant to be there.

Neteyam felt the pity in his heart worsen at your predicament, and he decided that he wanted to help, even though his naturally taught ethics told him it was wrong. He knew that the only reason his body was reacting to you like this, along with the cause of the omens from Eywa, meant one thing, but he was trying to suppress that epiphany for the moment.

He couldn't understand your language enough, but the device that lay on the ground behind him was obviously crucial to you. Hence he walked over to it and picked it up, this caused a chain reaction as you stumbled forward and tried to take it back from him with a yelp of protest, but he placed his hand on your forearm and gently pushed you back, which calmed you down enough that he could look at the tool.

He stood up and held the com to his face to see if it was fixable. Jake had a few of these around, and Neteyam had to wear one for a long time when he was younger, but this technology was slightly newer than anything Neteyam had seen for a while.

He flipped the collar over in his palm, and to his surprise, he immediately zoned in on the issue. The chip that powered it was simply dislodged and needed to be adjusted, so he pushed it back gently and shook it a few times, much to your aggrievement, and then when the red light sparked back to life he crouched down and placed it in your hands.

Your eyes widened in surprise as the collar was now partially workable.

You looked up at him, and his breath caught as your beautiful eyes gazed into his own with such pure gratitude in them that it made him want to keep you close to him forever, as his mate.

And just like that, the epiphany broke the surface of his mind and his pupils swell as he realized why you smelt so divine and why your laugh made his body weak. You were his mate. Even without the means to make the neural link or any of the accompanying features found on Na'vi women that were deemed as attractive, he knew as he observed you desperately press down on the com and speak into it that you were his destined partner.

The intercom sparked to life, and he heard the sound of Max's voice come through it. This interaction only worked to intrigue him more than last time, as he tried to figure out what you were doing all alone out here with a broken body, seeking out the rouge scientists.

You quickly yelled back to Max with relief overthrowing your face, which made Neteyam smile again as he watched you let out a consoled chuckle.

You spoke for a few more seconds, and Neteyam let the sound of your strange accent wrap around him before you broke his trance and held up the collar to him. He quirked a brow, but you shook the device in your hand and nodded for him to take it.

He gently took the end of the com and brought it to his ear so he could listen to Max translate what was happening to him in Na'vi.

Max was shocked to find out it was Neteyam who had saved his exposed spy from Hell's gate, but he described your issue to Neteyam, and he agreed to take you to the laboratories on the edge of his village so you could be patched up.

He returned the device and pulled off his bow to set himself up to walk you through the wild to the labs.

You hadn't understood Max's translation, so you pulled the com closer and tried to remain polite as you smiled up at Neteyam, but he could tell you were not pleased with the improvised escort that was surely threatening to your tiny stature.

When the conversation was over, you sighed and dropped the intercom to your side, gripping it tightly as you looked back up at Neteyam, who was now tying his hair of individual braids up with a hair-tie while holding the bow between his teeth.

He looked like a beautiful angel from your angle as he effortlessly strung up his hair, showing off his triceps and pecs while his canines were left exposed around the wooden bow. He pulled an arrow from behind his back and fit it into the bow. Neteyam then set off into the woods again, with your body mindlessly following the god-like boy.

You watched him move; he was the most graceful thing you had ever seen. His attitude was strange, and while you couldn't understand a word he was saying, you finally identified his aura as one of interest and possible endearment rather than intimidation.

He looked over his shoulder and called out a sentence to you that once again you couldn't understand but you just nodded and tried to sustain his pace.

He looked over his shoulder every few steps, but it was clear you were struggling to keep up with him as the pain from your injury was now becoming prevalent thanks to your adrenaline levels being brought down.

Neteyam grumbled something under his breath but turned to you, sliding the bow and arrow over himself again as he stepped towards you.

You backed up a little as his alarming size came toward you, but he reached out and gently touched your shoulder so you could see that he was trying to suggest an idea.

"You're never gonna get there if I don't carry you, come here", he stared into your eyes, repeating the sentence at least three times before he tut his tongue in annoyance and reached down to hoist your legs into his arms so he could carry you bridle style.

You screeched, and his ears flickered at the sharp noise before you hissed out and clung onto him as tightly as you could while he rose you high above the ground. He could feel your heart rate speed up, and he was dumbfounded as to why you were reacting this way to him just holding you.

You said a word, and it rang a bell in his head as he tried to remember it.

Oh, height.

He quickly put you down, and you tried to relax your breathing after being speedily hauled into the air by about 7 or 8 feet and then replaced just as swiftly.

You tried to balance yourself on his leg as you felt your heart calm down, heights weren't your strong point, but you had to agree that it was going to be the best way to get there with the time restraint your injury put on you.

He spoke something else as he crouched down, putting himself at eye level with you.

"I can't understand you!" You hopelessly whimpered as your hand came to rest on his shoulder so you could try and take the pain off your other limb.

His ears downturned at the sound of your desperate groaning, and he remained silent for a second, looking off to the side in thought.

You took a deep breath, dragging his attention back to you. You stared into his eyes for a second before you nodded and held out your arm for him to take with a single word.

"Slow", your eyes tried to show bravery, but your body was still shaking like a leaf under his touch.

He felt a part of his body twitch at your word that was paired with heavy eye contact and an out-of-breath tone, but he ignored it.

This time he went much slower as he swept his hands underneath your thighs and lifted you into the air. He allowed you to get a good hold around his neck so that you weren't afraid of falling, lying to himself that the touch was for your comfort and not his own.

When you were to live with him once you agreed to be his mate, he had to get used to going slower with things. It was lucky for you that he had probably the best patience out of any of his family.

You weighed nothing to him, so he set off as soon as you were steady, and your fear slowly gave weight to amusement as his long legs steeped over each obstacle in his way that would have taken you minutes to clamber over with your one arm pinned to your side.

The whole way there, you could feel his grip around the lower part of your legs tighten when you tried to clamber closer to him, and you wanted to apologize for invading his space and deterring him from his task that he would have had to abandon to help you, but the words couldn't come out.

It took about twenty minutes of heel-and-toe walking before he finally managed to get you to the lab's opening.

Upon seeing the large metal containers, he screeched to a stop, and you looked at his face with confusion as he seemed to have caught your fear like a contagious disease as his face scrunched up. He didn't dare go any further.

Neteyam let his hands slip under your armpits and gently set you down on the ground. He looked down at you and then glanced at the containers behind you.

You were a sky person, and while he couldn't deny that you reeked of his mate, this was the most unlikely pairing anyone had seen.

You called out to him, not by name, as he hadn't told you, but he finally sighed and slid back down to a crouch as he found he had to do a lot when talking to you.

"I will be back for you, my mate, until then, look after yourself better, now go get patched up", he pressed one of his hands into the side of your head, and you lovingly pushed against his palm with a sad smile as you took his words as an apology for needing to go.

"Thank you--" You trailed off as you tried to use the silence to ask for his name.

"Neteyam", he stated with that boyish smile overtaking his features again.

"Neteyam", you repeated as you nodded, feeling the skin of his rough palm rub against you.

"You?" He found the word in English and spoke it with a heavy accent, making your smile turn to a grin.

"Y/n", you stated with a gleam in your eye.

"Y/n", he said the name verbatim to you and nodded to himself as the sound of a door opening ruined the moment.

He quickly pulled back from you and stood back up, allowing his height to take over the silent threat as Max stood on the steps to the metal lab with his hands raised to show he was unarmed as he called out to you and asked if you were all right.

"Goodbye, y/n", Neteyam’s accent was incredibly thick, and it made your skin shiver as he quickly put his fingers to his forehead and retracted them in a respectful farewell before he turned on his tail and walked back into the wilderness of Pandora, leaving you alone with your own kind.

[starsainzjr]

Lights, Camera, Action

Pairing: Lando Norris x director!reader Faceclaim: Gemma Chan

✷✷✷✷✷

yourusername posted a story

f1wags

Liked by 419,303 others

f1wags Meet YN YLN! YN is a successful Hollywood director and producer with movies like Barbie (producer), Boston Strangler (director), and Little Women (director) under her belt. Earlier this afternoon in a Tweet, a fan working as a makeup artist on an undisclosed movie set claimed to see McLaren driver Lando Norris on set with a bouquet of sunflowers.

An hour later YN posted a a picture of a bouquet of sunflowers to her Instagram story with the caption "Pleasant surprise at lunch 🥰" (pictured above). Could it just be a coincidence? Sure. But we may soon have a new WAG in the paddock!

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marissa.lancaster4 Hi! I'm the fan that posted that Tweet. Because of the NDAs that I have signed as a part of my employment I cannot say what movie I am working on nor who the director is. But I can confirm after speaking with several of my coworkers that it was Lando I saw on set earlier today.

f1wags Please DM me if you have any more information that you can share!

mickieslaren Am I the only one that gets a bit weirded out by how we treat celebrities' love lives like this? Maybe Lando was visiting a friend or something. Either way it's none of our business what he was doing on set

landoslove It is a bit odd but, then again, both Lando and YN live in the public eye. There are always going to be little things like this that get scrutinized mickieslaren I just wish they could have a bit of privacy is all landoslove That makes sense. But this is out of our control

nowinsnorris YN is literally so stunning. Lando has some serious game if this is true

landoslove He's trying so hard to beat the norizz allegations

yourusername Hollywood

Liked by florencepugh, americaferrara, simuliu and 509,201 others

yourusername Halfway through filming! I have a never ending supply of sunsets and sunflowers 🌅🌻

View all 99,394 comments

florencepugh Come to my hotel room I have a mini champagne bottle I can't get rid of by myself

yourusername I'm omw simuliu Am I invited? florencepugh Sure we need someone to supervise I suppose

americaferrara Go do incredible things! Cannot wait to get my eyes on this once its done

yourusername There's a bucket of popcorn with your name on it!

landoslove Sunflowers she says? 👀

nowinsnorris She's not as slick as she thinks she is

haveyougotpubesyet No bc I'm confident Lando would follow YN around like a lost puppy in the paddock

landoslove I cannot wait for this to get proven real mickieslaren Or we could just leave them alone and let them live their lives haveyougotpubesyet We're not harming them, just having meaningless fun trying to connect invisible dots landoslove Yeah. We're not, like, cyber bullying them or anything mickieslaren I'm just saying it probably can't feel great to have random people poking around in your love life

landonorris Santa Monica, California

Liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 782,293 others

landonorris Ready to rock 🤘🏎

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oscarpiastri We really need a McLaren emoji

landonorris 🍑? oscarpiastri I'm taking your phone away landonorris 😨

carlossainz55 Welcome back to the real world

landonorris I don't like it I wanna go back charles_leclerc We have the easiest lives ever get it together. Both of you landonorris Yes, father. Carlos come get your teammate carlossainz55 Nah, this could get fun

landoslove SANTA MONICA

landoslove YN just posted from Santa Monica

nowinsnorris This is me not getting my hopes up buuuuut YN is a director and she lives in California... landoslove Lalalalala I can't hear anything lalalalala

yourusername The Outback

Liked by simuliu, florencepugh, americaferrara and 600,338 others

yourusername Out of the studio for the back half! So unbelievably happy to be back in Australia 🦘🌏

View all 102,383 comments

simuliu Yeah yeah pretty pictures can you come kill the spider in my room now please?

simuliu YN I'm serious, I've been texting you for 30 minutes I know you're seeing these simuliu YN IM NO LONGER ASKING yourusername @/florencepugh do you hear anything? florencepugh Nope. All quiet. Not a peep simuliu Very funny. When I die who are you going to get to finish your movie? yourusername I am on my way to humanely get the scary spider out of your room and put it outside simuliu Hurry up it's staring at me florencepugh With how many eyes?

nowinsnorris I'm already in love with her. I might love her more than I love Lando

landoslove YN YLN - Daniel Ricciardo team up 👀

ynsaction I've never been one to gatekeep but if these F1 delulus keep coming near my wife I will actually lose my mind

yn.florence No literally! She is a feminist icon who has said multiple times in interviews that she's not looking for a partner and focusing on directing and producing. Pls stop shoving her into a WAG box ynsaction I'll always welcome more YN fans but every other word in these comments is about Lando Norris. I'm about to scream landoslove Hi, sorry isn't feminism about women being able to do whatever they want? YN is allowed to change her mind if she met the right person yn.florence If you'd been paying attention you'd know the last interview she made her wishes clear in was a week ago which, according to the calendar, is after people started trying to tie her to Nowins or whatever his name is

landonorris Australia

Liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 799,397 others

landonorris Good to be back! We'll continue to work and push and get stronger as the season goes on. Thanks for having me, Australia! 🦘

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oscarpiastri The garage used to be so quiet

landonorris You missed me, admit it

carlossainz55 Bit rusty there, mate

landonorris Says the man who got his third consecutive P4 finish. You ever gonna bump up to the podium? carlossainz55 At least I finished in the points charles_leclerc Guys I cannot keep doing this please

landoslove My boy is back and better than ever

haveyougotpubesyet He looked so happy to be back!

nowinsnorris I'm gonna have to change my username this year, aren't I?

landoslove YES YOU ARE norizz481 Here's hoping I get to change mine too landoslove YOU'RE BOTH GOING TO HAVE TO CHANGE USERNAMES I'M SPEAKING IT INTO THE UNIVERSE

yourusername Perth, Australia

Liked by florencepugh, simuliu, americaferrara and 600,495 others

yourusername A week and a half left of filming and I cannot wait to celebrate all we've accomplished with these two! Behind the scenes dump coming soon 😉

View all 110,387 comments

americaferrara Congrats all of you! So so unbelievably proud

yourusername Wish you could've been along with us on this ride! See you soon my love

florencepugh My favorite project in a long time! Let's finish this out strong!

simuliu No not that picture 😭

yourusername Listen, it's too good not to share with the world simuliu I'm a superhero, I don't need this kind of harassment yourusername Cope

ynsaction This one is going to be so so good I'm physically vibrating I need it

yn.florence Mother! She's going to win yet another Oscar for this one, I can feel it

ynsaction Our girl don't need no child race car driver

nowinsnorris I'm becoming such a huge fan of YN. She and Lando would be perfect for each other

landoslove Shhhhh you'll scare the fragile film girlies ynsaction God, the f1 delulus are back. I was hoping we got rid of them yn.florence I don't think we're that lucky

f1wags Perth, Australia

Liked by 421,871 others

f1wags Picture taken of Lando this morning in Perth, Australia coming out of a florist shop. Not pictured is a bouquet of sunflowers. This is the second time this month that Lando has been spotted with a bouquet of sunflowers.

Lando has been linked to director YN YLN who is wrapping up her new film in Perth. Only time will tell if YN posts some sunflowers in the coming days 👀

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haveyougotpubesyet He is the definition of boyfriend material I swear to god

landoslove Getting closer and closer to beating the norizz allegations

landoslove IS HE BRINGING HER SWEETS TOO??? This boy is going to be the death of me

nowinsnorris What do I need to do to get myself a Lando

mickieslaren Just reminding everyone that Lando does in fact have sisters who were in attendance at the race this weekend and may also enjoy getting sunflowers from their brother

landoslove Jesus, take your negativity away from us who are trying to have fun mickieslaren Yeah it's fun for you now but what about Lando who is trying to go about his day without having some delusional fangirl losing their mind over him buying sunflowers? If you were really a fan of his you would let him live his life landoslove He's a celebrity! His fans are just trying to connect to him mickieslaren When I hear that Lando has gotten a restraining order against a fan I will not be surprised when you suddenly get very quiet

yourusername posted a story

yourusername Hollywood

Liked by americaferrara, florencepugh, landonorris and 671,209 others

yourusername This is where the fun begins 🎞 Three months of editing coming up

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florencepugh Im omw with more coffee

yourusername I love you

americaferrara Ahh keep the Excedrin close by

yourusername There's a whole bottle in the corner

simuliu I hope you're making me look good

yourusername Yes, I'm including the scene where the spider crawled up your arm and you screamed like a baby simuliu You're definitely my favorite director, I love working with you yourusername You are also definitely the star of this movie and have more screen time than Flo simuliu Hey, I will always be willing to have less screen time than Flo

ynsaction YES I have been missing YN editing content so bad recently

ynsaction She is such a mood when she's editing she gets so unhinged

landoslove Unhinged YN editing plus Lando being generally unhinged 👀 ynsaction Jesus give it a rest already

yn.florence I, for one, am chasing to focus on incoming unhinged YN posts

nowinsnorris LANDO'S IN THE LIKES EVERYONE

landonorris China

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landonorris So close to a podium finish! We'll make adjustments as needed and push on. See you in Miami!

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oscarpiastri So my days of quiet garage are definitely over?

landonorris You're stuck with me forever, mate carlossainz55 Good luck, Oscar landonorris WOW

landonorris @/charles_leclerc your teammate is being mean to me

charles_leclerc You think I have control over him?

ynsaction Not YN in the likes I had such high hopes

landoslove Genuine question; why are you against her finding someone she likes to be with? ynsaction I'm not against her finding someone she likes to be with, I'm against all Lando's fans trying to shove her into a WAG box when she's spoken so much about not wanting a partner at the moment. Especially when it was as soon as a month ago landoslove Okay, that's valid. But we're not trying to shove her into a box. This is just harmless shipping. I'm sure you do it with fictional characters you like ynsaction YN is an idol to me. I'm protective over her, I'm sorry if I've been bitchy landoslove I've been bitchy too, I apologize as well

mickieslaren I still don't like pushing into celebrity love lives

yourusername Miami, Florida

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yourusername First time out of the studio since editing started. Thank you @/f1 for hosting me!

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f1 Anything for our favorite director!

florencepugh Did you see The Guy???? 👀

yourusername It's not too late to make the movie about Simu simuliu YES... I mean, yeah did you see The Guy???? 👀 yourusername You're both blacklisted from my film sets

mclaren Give us a heads up next time you come! We'll set you up in the garage!

yourusername Oh that would be incredible! Thank you so so much!

ynsaction She always looks so adorable I am in love with her

yn.florence Mother is Mothering

ynsaction all hail

haveyougotpubesyet McLaren sipping after her too now

ynsaction Who wouldn't simp after her tbh

landoslove Just soft launch already

landoslove Florence and Simu chirping her about seeing The Guy I'm DYING

nowinsnorris The Guy is 100% Lando. It has to be at this point

lando.jpg

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lando.jpg Hangin'

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charles_leclerc You caught me so off guard

carlossainz55 Best picture in the middle tbh

yourusername posted a story

yourusername Monaco

Liked by landonorris, florencepugh, simuliu, and 801,836 others

yourusername Beautiful day in Monaco made even more beautiful by this wonderful boy! Congratulations, @/landonorris I'm so proud of you!

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florencepugh THE GUY. SHE PULLED THE GUY.

simuliu YESSSS NO MORE LATE NIGHTS DRUNK TALKING ABOUT HIM

yourusername Way to call me out, guys, thanks for that. You do remember I'm technically your boss right? florencepugh Movie wrapped, love. You can't tell us what to do anymore simuliu At least until we sign on for another one of your projects

landonorris Awww you drunk talked about me 🥰

yourusername I'll chase you

landonorris Monaco

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 781,003 others

landonorris I have the best date for the party @/yourusername

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yourusername Best weekend ever

landonorris Only because you were here

oscarpiastri Here's hoping the garage will be quiet again

landonorris No shot but nice try yourusername I'll do my best to keep him quiet for you oscarpiastri YN is my new favorite

lando.jpg

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 241,966 others

lando.jpg You have a movie coming out tomorrow. I am so incredibly proud of you @/yourusername. Everything we've been through together, I cannot believe what a kind, strong, beautiful woman you are. I love you, I can't wait to see what you're going to do next

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yourusername I love you so so much, darling. Thank you for being there through everything

lando.jpg My dream woman

florencepugh Yes!!!! Drinks on Simu at the afterparty!

simuliu Drinks on me!!!

✷✷✷✷✷

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[mossyivy]

Young parents but it's re2 leon or re4 leon... he has a cute and sweet girlfriend but he ended up getting her pregnant by accident (ahem) and now he needs to learn how to take care of his pregnant girlfriend.... (He watched Twilight and was worried about the possibility of she breaking like a stick like Bella.) 👛anon.

(RE4 Leon is 27, you think 27 is young?? I'm 27 bless you 👛anon 🥺)

This would probably fit better with RE2 Leon. A rookie cop who accidentally knocked his girlfriend up. Obviously he's happy regardless, you two love each other and he knows he'd want a family someday. It just so happens to be sooner than he thought.

I'd picture him going bat shit insane. Talking about how you'll snap like a twig and you're just staring at him like 🤨 babe... We're not have a vampire baby.

Yeah, but like WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENS!?

Would definitely buy every parenting book he sees. He wants to be prepared. Extra precautions after you move into his shoe box of an apartment cause he wants you close by. Definitely walking around putting up those corner covers they have for counters and tables so kids don't cut their heads. Even though you're a grown ass woman... He's just scared you'll bump your belly and hurt you or the baby.

The moment you start getting cravings he's on it any time of day.

You want cookies at 3am? Insomnia cookies here he comes.

You text him that you want noodles while he's sitting at his desk at work. He's an hour late coming home from work because he stopped at two different markets to get any flavor of instant noodles he could find so you'll be able to enjoy your meal.

You want grilled steak in the middle of fucking winter?! BABE GET YOUR COAT, WE'RE GOING TO OUTBACK!

Definitely overwhelmed with all the responsibilities he puts on himself because he refuses to let you do cleaning or anything to requires lifting. And yes, even if it is light!

Leon put most of the nursery together (cute little alcove in the living room until y'all can find a bigger apartment or rent a house). Quite literally only let you supervise, which irritated the hell out of you but he loves you and you know he's just paranoid.

Once the baby comes though, he's awake for days... You're recovering and he's taken on the role of father very seriously. So sleep deprived he's probably stared at the baby thinking he can't see their chest move. But they wiggle their little arm and his stomach nearly falls out of his ass he was clenching so hard.

At one point he'd be rocking the baby to sleep during your recovery and close his eyes for 2 seconds and suddenly it's morning. The babies not in his arms and he starts freaking out. So freaked out he looks under the damn couch for his kid. But you come out of the kitchen carrying a bottle and the baby in one of the swaddling scarves and he can breathe again.

But all in all Leon would be a fantastic father!

[ravendruid]

Hi there! I’m new here and would like to ask for your September prompts, Critical Role, Vaxleth, number 28 please

Hi!! Welcome in! Thank you so much for sending a prompt, I really appreciate it. I'm sorry it took me a few days to write it, I hope you like it ^_^

A Slice of Life

(Read on AO3)

Vax’ildan is not used to being the first one to wake up but since the heat of the Zephrahn summer has been unbearable on him, Vax has been waking up shortly after dawn for the past two days thanks to the already sweltering heat that makes it impossible for him to be under the covers with Keyleth, who, by herself, is already a naturally hot person. Vax doesn’t usually have to wait too long for Keyleth to turn in bed, face him, and kiss him good morning with her sleep-crusted eyes and hoarse voice, but for some reason, his usually morning butterfly of a girlfriend is enjoying the softness of the sheets this morning, so Vax takes the chance to stretch out like a cat and pads quietly out of the bedroom.

Their house is not big. It’s a one-bedroom cottage near the center of Zephrah, not too far from the building that acts as what some might call a town hall. It was an easy choice once Keyleth saw the vine and moss covered walls, the small but cute garden outback shaded by a large oak tree with a wooden swing hanging from a thick branch, and the pebbled path surrounded by bee and butterfly-friendly flowers. It didn’t matter much to Vax where they would stay in regards to proximity of work or what the house would look like as long as Keyleth was happy, but he has to admit that the charm of the run-down cottage has grown on him, especially with the work and hours Vax and Keyleth have put into repairing it.

The proportion of the rooms is not too far off with the house itself. The kitchen has limited counter space that has taught Vax to cherish storage spaces, with a small stove and oven, a sink and an ice box big enough for both of them; the living and dining room is one single area where they keep a high table with two stools behind the back of the soft, green couch. There was no room for Keyleth’s favorite armchair, though, so they opted to let it remain at her father’s house, but Keyleth affirmed she would not leave her favorite plush rug behind, so that is now decorating the floor between the couch and the fireplace. They also purchased a handmade bookshelf from a local woodcarver, who, when told who this order was for, carved their initials on the wood at the top. It now stands against a wall, holding the majority of Keyleth’s books—everything from Alchemy and Herbs, to romance and fairytale books—and all the trinkets Vax has collected over their years of adventuring. Their bedroom is probably one of the largest rooms in the house, with a big glass window that faces the backyard and the mountains. Keyleth had fun decorating it in a way that would include both their tastes and personalities, which Vax loved, and adding more ivy and plants everywhere she could. Sometimes Vax feels like he’s still sleeping under the canopy of a forest and not in a house.

Vax looks at the ice box when he steps into the kitchen area and he’s already shaking his head because he knows he will find it practically empty. Keyleth has had to travel to Vasselheim quite a lot this week, so they haven’t had the opportunity to get many homemade meals, and because of that, their groceries are lacking. However, Vax still finds enough to whip up something: a small carton of eggs Korrin brought over yesterday, a little bit of milk left from Vax’s breakfasts, and even a few slices of bacon. It’s not much, but it’ll do. As long as they have coffee, Vax knows he will be safe.

So Vax puts on the black apron Keyleth made for him, the one where she embroidered Kiss the Rogue on the chest area in red with a fanged mouth—she will never let him forget how his first instinct was to charm the Briarwoods to get out of trouble the first time he encountered them—last Winter’s Crest, and he starts preparing breakfast, which doesn’t take too long. 

Vax was fully expecting the smell of fresh brewed coffee and crispy bacon would be enough to rouse Keyleth, but it seems like his druid might be having a bad case of lazy morning because when he cracks the bedroom door open to check on her, she is still sleeping, snoring lightly while sprawled out on the bed with the sheets bundled at her feet and her red, messy braid falling on his pillow. Vax can’t help but chuckle at the sight as he crosses the bedroom to open the window. It doesn’t do much to stave off the heat (if anything it brings even more heat), but at least the singing of the birds is louder and the room feels more in-tune with nature.

“Kiki,” Vax calls softly, brushing a strand of hair from the little of Keyleth’s face he can see. The woman doesn’t stir, so far out she is to the world. Vax can’t blame her with all the work Keyleth has had, with the nights she’s been staying up, looking up information, reading reports and other documents, until Vax says ‘enough is enough’ and drags her to bed. Keyleth needs this rest, which is the biggest reason that Vax decides to try only one more time. If she doesn’t wake up, then it’s because she clearly isn’t ready to.

“Keyleth,” Vax shakes her shoulder lightly this time. Finally there is a sign of recognition as Keyleth stirs and hums. “Morning, beautiful,” Vax brushes Keyleth’s hair, speaking softly when she starts moving her long, sprawled out limbs. He watches as the druid curls into herself and, for a moment, Vax regrets waking her up, but then Keyleth slowly opens one eye, followed by the other, and he gets to see those bright, green eyes he loves so much, and every thought leaves his head.

“Uhm,” Keyleth hums, turning on her back and stretching out like a starfish as long as she can, which makes Vax laugh. He’s never seen her like this, so sleepy and relaxed. It’s adorable. “No,” Keyleth grumbles, bringing her bottom lip up in a pout when she sees Vax. 

“No?” 

“Come back to bed,” Keyleth orders. Vax laughs again and shakes his head, saying, “It’s too hot, and I made breakfast.”

The last word seems to be incentive enough to make Keyleth open her eyes wider and focus on him, and Vax can practically see the cog wheels of her brain dust off the rust and start working. 

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Coming right up,” Vax kisses her forehead before he steps out into the kitchen, where he grabs both mugs of coffee and brings them back to the bedroom. “Would you also like breakfast in bed, your highness?” He jokes. Keyleth doesn’t reply until after she grabs the coffee mug from him, takes a large gulp and sighs from the quick boost of caffeine. 

“Yes, please.”

“Sorry it’s not much,” Vax apologizes when he brings a plate with eggs, toast and bacon. “We’re running out of food.”

“It’s everything,” Keyleth smiles like a little kid on Winter’s Crest. “It tastes good too.”

“I’m glad,” Vax kisses her cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a stone.”

“I could tell. You were snoring really loud. I think everyone in town heard you.” Vax jokes, waggling his eyebrows at her. Keyleth gives him an offended look which Vax can’t take seriously due to the piece of toast hanging out of her mouth. 

“Liar. I did not snore,” Keyleth admonishes him. Vax snorts into his coffee and gives her a wink over the rim of his mug. “Did you sleep well?” Keyleth asks.

“Too hot. Seriously, why is it so hot here?” Vax complains and to emphasize, he takes off his sweat-damp tunic.

“Not a lot of wind to cool things down,” Keyleth explains. “I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, considering we are the Air Ashari, but the protective barrier that keeps all the bad weather out also keeps out most of the winds that are characteristic of the Summit Peaks, which means it can get pretty toasty in Zephrah.”

“Can you do something about it?” Vax asks. Keyleth can do a lot of pretty awesome things these days—one of her most recent tricks is being able to turn into a dragon, which almost sent Vax to an early grave from admiration the first time he witnessed it—so maybe she can do something about the heat.

“Technically, I can, yes, but I would need the agreement from the rest of the elder council.”

The stupid elder council, Vax thinks. The group of older, wiser people that ensure the wishes of all citizens are met, or at least heard. They would never allow Keyleth to change the protective barrier to allow more wind through to lower the town’s temperature because, in Vax’s opinion, they are all a group of stuck-up, ancient old bags who hate change and keep rejecting every single proposal Keyleth has brought to the table when it concerns the development of Zephrah (including the creation of an elite group of soldiers whose job would be to protect the town, and technically the Tempest, from external threats). 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Keyleth promises when she notices Vax’s downcast gaze. 

“You know… things would be easier if you’d just allow me to have a little talk with them,” Vax mumbles. It’s only here, in the safety of their home, that Keyleth feels free and secure enough to voice her thoughts and, on several occasions, she has voiced how much she hates the council and their blocks to her plans, and it’s not that Vax prefers violence, but he has offered his assassin services to her on multiple occasions… or at least just enough to scare them off. 

“This is my battle, Vax,” Keyleth replies sternly, as she always does. “But thank you. I appreciate the offer.” She leans in to kiss his cheek.

Vax picks up Keyleth’s empty plate and mug and sets them on his nightstand with his empty dishes. “You know my services are free for you, right?” Vax says, slowly crawling towards Keyleth. 

“Oh? They are?” She smirks. Keyleth hooks a finger under Vax’s chin and pulls him until he’s kneeling between her legs. “What kind of services are we talking about, then?”

“Oh, you know… All sorts of… services,” Vax teases feather-light touches over Keyleth’s shoulders, dragging down the thin straps of her nightgown. “Oops,” He smiles as the fabric falls down Keyleth’s torso and pools at her waist, exposing her breasts.

“I hope these ‘services’ are also exclusive for me,” Keyleth cocks an eyebrow, amused. 

“Of course, love,” Vax murmurs, locking his mouth with the column of Keyleth’s neck. She twists her head to the side to allow him an easier access, which Vax gladly takes.

“I assume… you don’t have to… rush to work… this morning?” He asks, trailing kisses up her jaw between words.

“I took the day off. I felt like I had to compensate you for all the late hours,” Keyleth manages to say with a raspy breath. Vax smiles victoriously as he reaches her mouth. 

“Well. We should make the most of this free time, then.”

Every day, Vax finds a different reason for why he loves Keyleth so much, and every day the woman finds a different way to show him just how much she loves him. Today she does it not only in the form of a somewhat lazy morning, spent with their naked bodies intertwined in bed, but also in the form of a nice, summer breeze coming in through the open window, cool enough to make the newly-added heat of their bodies more bearable for Vax.

[reigningqueenofwords]

The Call

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,190 Warnings: Character death

Read on AO3

Humming to yourself, you kicked your feet up on the arm of the couch and looked through the pages of an old copy of Rolling Stone. “Hey, sweetheart.” Dean smiled, walking into the living room. You’d bought the house together right after the birth of your oldest son, DJ, and had been living there for nearly 5 years. It had seen your marriage to Dean in the backyard, and then the birth of your twins- a boy, Levi, and a girl, Nicolette, who were three.

“Hey, handsome.” You looked over at him. Seeing the state of him, you groaned and got up, tossing your magazine on the coffee table. Dean still hunted on occasion, much to your dismay, but you gave up fighting that battle years ago. “You’re so lucky the kids aren’t home!” You hissed at him, earning a sheepish look.

“Well, I know DJ’s at school, where are the twins?” He asked, pulling off his jacket.

“Daycare.” You reminded him. “Remember, I signed them up for part time to get used to playing with kids other than each other? They go three days a week. Today is their first day.”

He thought for a moment and nodded. “Shit, that’s right.” He chuckled. “I’ll go get cleaned up before they’re home.” He told you, leaning over and kissing your cheek. “You know you love me. Covered in blood and all.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah. I married you, didn’t I?” You teased. “I go pick them up in about an hour, by the way. If you want to go.”

“Of course I want to go!” He told you excitedly. “I’ve been away from home for three days, and I miss my kids.” Dean was an excellent father, and very hands on. “Oh, Sam says hi, by the way.” He told you.

“I’ll text him later.” You told him. “Now, go shower before I drag you outback and hose you down!” You half threatened.

At dinner that night, you raised an eyebrow at your husband. “If you shove any more of that in your mouth, I’m pretty sure you’ll choke.” You teased him, with a chuckle.

“Daddyyyyy.” Nicholette giggled at her father’s face. You’d made home made mashed potatoes, baked chicken, and green beans. He had shoved some chicken and potatoes in his mouth and currently reminded you of a chipmunk. “You so silly!” She grinned.

He slowed his chewing, blushing slightly. Licking his lips, he swallowed before sipping his beer. “Sorry.” He gave you a bashful smile. “This is just so much better than eating on the road.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I take it as a compliment, but remember, we have three small Winchesters who look up to their Daddy…” You motioned to the three kids who were a bit messy.

“Good point.” He motioned at you with a fork. Hearing his hunting phone ring, you both furrowed your brows. “What the he– heck?” Dean corrected himself when you shot him a look. “Let me go get that.”

It worried you, as he never got called in that close together. Most of the time, it was weeks, or months, between hunts. Never, ever this soon! “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You told the three kids who looked at you with curious green eyes. They had very little knowledge of hunting, and you wanted to keep it that way as long as you could.

“I gotta go, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” He rushed in, a panicked look on his face as he kissed your cheek. You looked at him, scared. “I know, I know. I never take hunts this soon after I get home.” Dean sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll call you tonight and fill you in. I promise.”

You nodded, knowing that was his way of saying he didn’t want to say anything in front of the kids. “Alright. Kids, say bye to daddy.” You gave them a small smile.

“Bye, Daddy!” They yelled in unison, tugging at his heartstrings. “Love you!”

Moving to them, one by one, he kissed the top of their head. “Be good for mommy, guys.” He told them firmly. “Or I’m not gonna be happy when I get home.”

They looked at each other, wide eyed. “Uh oh.” Levi breathed. “We be good, Daddy!” He looked over at Dean, who was trying so hard not to laugh at their expressions.

After dinner, you’d cleaned the kitchen up, bathed them, given them a bedtime snack, and managed to get them all into bed. By the time you sat down from housework, it was nearly 9. You had a glass of wine, and had the Food Network on a very low volume. You’d changed into a pair of Dean’s sweats, and a t-shirt, your socked feet up on your coffee table, and your cellphone on the cushion next to your leg. Once you spoke to Dean, you’d likely crawl into bed, wanting to recharge for another day of parenting three small children alone.

It was mid Master Chef rerun when your phone vibrated, lighting up with your husband’s smiling face. Sipping your wine, you smiled softly as you picked up your phone. The bottom of your glass clicked gently on the side table when you set it down, putting the phone to your ear. “Hey, handsome.” You greeted him.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You could hear the grin in his voice. “Sammy says hi.” He chuckled.

“Tell him I’m mad at him!” You joked, tucking your feet up to the side. “But, I still say hi back.”

He relayed the information to his brother as they drove down the highway. “So, I’ll spare you the gory details for now. I know you aren’t a huge fan anymore.” He teased you lightly, remembering how the month after you’d had DJ you’d thrown up hearing the details. You just couldn’t stomach them much anymore. “We’re thinking ghouls.” He sighed, and you made a face. “I know you’re scrunching your nose, so…yeah. Exactly.”

You chuckled. “You know me too well.” You pointed out.

“That I do, Mrs. Winchester.” He replied, chuckling. “How was bedtime with the kids?” He asked, wanting to talk about something on a lighter note for the remainder of the call. He’d be wanting to get home more than usual, as this was sooner than he would have wanted to be gone.

Sam sat back in his chair with a groan. The sleeves to his button up shirt were rolled up to right under his elbows, the top button undone, and the tie loosened. Over the back of his chair hung his suit coat as his laptop was open in front of him. “I don’t know. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this isn’t out type of case?” He looked over to where Dean sat on the bed closest to him. “We’ve been here two days, and we’re still at square one.” Sam pointed out, sighing.

Sipping his beer, Dean licked his lips. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t tell me I’m missing time with my kids for nothing.” He shot his brother a look. “You called me saying there was a case, and that you needed me. Don’t make me call my wife and tell her that I’m missing time with my family for nothing.”

“I’m sorry, man.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll go grab some take out and see if I hear anything.” He got up, rolling his shoulders. “There’s a place down the street, Chinese. What do you want?”

Holding his gun aimed, Dean moved through the large house, his heart beating his in chest. Sam went another way, trying to cover more ground. Feeling his phone vibrate, he licked his lips and pulled out his phone. “What?” He hissed.

Sam was quiet on the other end of the line. “Dean, it’s not fucking ghouls!” He snapped, making Dean pause. “It’s not ghouls.” He repeated.

“Then what the fuck is it?” He ground out.

There was a moment of silence before Sam spoke. “This isn’t our type of case, man.”

Dean’s face paled, knowing that humans could be so much worse than monsters. “Are we dealing with fucking Hannibal or somethin’?” What the else could it be? They were finding people with parts missing. Sometimes whole parts, sometimes just pieces. “If that’s the case, then I–”

Sam furrowed his brows when Dean’s voice cut off. “Dean?!” He panicked. “Dean??” Hearing the phone drop to the floor, his stomach sank when he knew it had been stomped on. There was no other explanation. “Shit.” He knew he couldn’t do this alone, but his hunter friends were beyond limited. Many were dead for all he knew.

You were giving the kids a bath when your phone rang. Seeing Sam’s number, you felt like you’d be sick. You picked up quickly, your eyes on the kids. “Hello?” You answered, terrified that you’d be told Dean wouldn’t be coming home this time. It was the same fear you’d had for years.

“Shit, I’m sorry, but I wasn’t sure who else to call.” He replied quickly. “I need you to come out and help.”

“I have three kids, Sam! What the he–heck am I supposed to do with them?” You asked, shielding yourself from some bath water.

He sighed. “Do you have a friend that can watch them? Just tell them that it’s a family emergency.”

You ran your hand through your hair. “It’s just a ghoul, Sam, what happened?” How could the two of them not handle that?

“It’s not a ghoul. It’s human, and they have Dean.” He told you seriously.

“I’ll call my best friend.” You snapped. “Text me where to meet you, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You had a harsh look on your face.

It felt like an eternity had passed from when Sam called you, until when you met him at the start of the dirt road. The house that Dean was being held in was fairly large, and the only one for two miles (at least) in every direction. You wore jeans, a t-shirt, boots, and a jacket. Your old hunting gear. “Sam.” You greeted him with a curt nod.

“You know I hated having to call you.” He gave you those puppy dog eyes.

Your eyes were full of fear as they met his hazel ones. “Let’s just get my husband back.” You weren’t angry with Sam, per say, but you had to keep yourself in check.

Running his hand through his hair, he nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” He motioned towards the house before the pair of you started moving quietly through the trees on the property.

Dean grunted against his restraints, his eyes covered with a dark blindfold. He’d heard his captor speak, and he knew the voice, but the name just wasn’t coming to him. It was so familiar, yet sounded like a stranger. It was pissing him off, and he wanted this to all be over. As much as he kept telling himself he was done hunting, he knew it was a bluff. He’d never send Sammy away.

“Dean!” Hearing your voice, he froze. “Oh, God.” You slid to your knees near him, pulling the blindfold off. As you worked on his bindings, your heart raced. “We’re getting you the hell out of here.” You told him. He worked on the rope around his ankles, panicked.

“Oh, look, you brought guests. Pretty little thing, too.” Came a man’s deep voice.

Dean snarled. “Show yourself, Hannibal, you sick son of a bitch.” He spat, putting himself in front of you slightly.

When the bald man stepped out, you saw Dean falter. “Is that anyway to talk to your Grandfather, Dean?” He smirked.

His jaw was tight as he spoke. “Samuel.” He glared.

“Dean?” You glanced at him for a split second, gripping the back of his shirt.

“How do you know my grandson?” Samuel asked, slowly moving closer.

You swallowed, watching his every movement. “Why should I tell you?” You countered, holding your head high. Being bullied by him wasn’t something you intended to do.

“Because I’m the one who holds both your lives in my hands.” He pointed out, pulling out a gun. “Now, normally I prefer other means, but you’re leaving me no choice.” Samuel sighed, aiming at Dean.

Without a second thought, you moved in front of Dean, the searing pain happening in an instant. Your hand went to gushing wound. “Fuck.” You breathed.

Sam stumbled, fighting to keep his eyes open, and leaned on the doorway. “You calculated wrong.” He ground out, making Samuel turn to look at him. To the best of Sam’s ability, he lifted his own gun and fired as he slid to the ground, groaning. His eyes were heavy with what Samuel had dosed him with, and they moved to where Dean was cradling you.

“Come on, baby.” Dean sobbed, putting his hand over yours, feeling your blood seep between his fingers. “Don’t you dare die on me. We got three kids that need you. I need you.” He breathed, feeling a pain that ate at his soul. “Please, baby…”

[astragreenwoode]

♡Truest Treasure (Adventure Time Petrigrof AU)♡ PT 4/?

(A/N: Part 4. We're getting into heavy angst territory, so be prepared. Sorry to put you guys through heartbreak.

If you are sensitive to themes such as child loss/miscarriage, suicidal ideation, extreme grief, and hospitals, either proceed with caution or feel free to avoid this part altogether. Remember to look out for yourselves.)

♡ My AU where pretty much everything is the same as in canon except Betty is unknowingly pregnant with her and Simon's daughter when she jumps through the portal.

Italics - A/N

Slashed Text - NSFW

Bold Text - Sensitive Topics

A Bump in the Road

♡ When they got to the Emergency Room, the nurses immediately wheeled Betty to an examination room once they saw the trail of blood behind her and Simon. But they needed him to stay behind. They needed help from the hospital security to practically pry them away from each other so they could treat her.

♡ After an hour of waiting when Betty was finally stabilized, Dr. Olson, came out to give Simon the bad news; Betty experienced a late miscarriage. But during their treatment, they had to strap her down to the bed and give her a sedative so she wouldn’t worsen her injuries.

♡ Betty’s situation was time-sensitive. She was in danger of getting an infection, so after updating Simon, Dr. Olson performed a surgical evacuation immediately.

♡ "Princess, we can have another baby. But I can't have another you."

♡ Given Betty’s medical history, a recorded suicide attempt when she was 13 years old, and how she was so distressed that they had to sedate and restrain her, Dr. Olson put her on Suicide Watch, just to be on the safe side.

♡ Up until this point, Simon didn’t know her struggles with her mental health were this severe.

♡ In the meantime, he called Betty’s mother and told her what was happening. She was at the hospital within five minutes.

♡ Alice Grof had trouble warming up to Simon from the beginning. She never liked how he stopped Betty from going on that trip to the Outback. But her daughter was happy, and that’s what mattered the most. And while their relationship wasn’t the warmest, they respected each other. She comforted Simon whilst Betty was still in surgery.

♡ Betty recovers in the hospital for five more days, drained both physically and emotionally. When she first wakes up following the procedure, she’s unresponsive, almost catatonic, and withdrawn from reality to process all the trauma of the whole situation. Simon and Alice make sure she’s never by herself during those five days.

♡ Alice stays with her daughter one day so that Simon can go to their apartment and bring some of Betty’s stuff to the hospital to help her not be as anxious during her stay.

♡ The day before they were ready to go back home, Alice offered to tidy the place up so Betty could recover in a clutter and stress-free environment. She cleaned the blood off their sheets and carpet, made everything neat, stocked their fridge and pantries with food, and made sure their bathroom had the necessary medical supplies to help the healing process. She also hid all items related to their lost baby in a trunk in their hall closet, out of sight, and waiting for whenever Simon and Betty were ready to try again.

♡ When they came back home, they took three weeks off of work so they could mourn their loss together.

♡ Betty returns to taking all her regular antidepressants and antipsychotics. They stabilize her mood and help keep her focused and ‘normal’ when she returns to work, but she’s still numb and withdrawn for a while.

♡ She visits with her mom more frequently, going over to her and her partner Suzanne’s house once a week. The visits help her in her grief.

♡ When Betty started getting her period again, her heart shattered all over again. Simon asked her mother to come over for a few days. 

♡ Proceeding with caution, Simon asks her about what he discovered in the hospital. He wants to understand her past struggles with her mental health; the suicidal ideation in her childhood, the self-harm tendencies, the OCD, the ADHD, the bipolar disorder she inherited from her mother, her past of pain, all of it. He wants to know so he can fully understand how to help her if she spirals again in the future. 

♡ It’s hard for her to open up about that.

♡ Betty avoids intimate and vulnerable situations with Simon for a while. He doesn’t mind at all and is willing to wait as long as she needs. The farthest she’s willing to go is cuddling with him in her underwear. Two months after coming back from the hospital, they graduate to taking showers together again.

♡ At night, Betty still holds Simon’s hand to her stomach as they sleep in bed.

♡ She can still feel their baby kicking from time to time, like experiencing phantom pain after losing a limb.

♡ In an effort to help Betty heal and get back to her old self, Simon surprises her by taking her on a two-week vacation to Ireland; Betty’s dream trip.

♡ A week into the trip, they retire to their suite early after having dinner at the hotel restaurant along with a bottle of wine. And for the first time since their loss, Betty lets Simon all the way in. That night, they unknowingly conceive their future daughter.

♡ The day before they fly back home to Seattle, Simon proposes. Betty says ‘yes.’ And after three months of sitting with their heartbreak, they feel hopeful for what the future might bring them again.

♡ Two months into their engagement, Simon embarks on a solo journey to follow up on a lead for an especially rare artifact.

♡ We all know what happens from here; what was meant as an innocent and playful gesture sparked earth-shattering consequences.

♡ Betty is absolutely petrified by her fiancee’s abrupt personality switch once he puts on the mysterious crown. That wasn't her Simon. So, when a portal to the future opens showing her the fiancee she knew and loved, she doesn’t think twice before she impulsively jumps through a thousand years and into the land of Ooo.

♡ She's blissfully unaware that she didn't jump through that portal alone.

Reblog, follow me, and come back for Part 5!

[bears-ao3-blog]

(TF2 x TLOU) Dead Mann Walking - Prologue: When All Hell Broke Loose

(Edit: Small Clarification - You do NOT need to know anything about The Last of Us to read this fic!! I made sure to write this in a way that did not make that a requirement. Ok love you bye)

Chapter 1

CW: Implied Violence, Explicit Violence, Injury, Implied/Referenced Character Death

Mick didn't remember anything about Australia. No surprise, he wasn't even a year old when they moved to Massachusetts. The only pieces of his country of origin that he really carried with him were his shoddy accent - compromised by its mix with a Southern drawl - and borderline stereotypical phrases, both of which he picked up from his parents, of course. 

He was young – barely pushing on two years old – when  it  happened; when monsters emerged from the confines of their own homes, ripping the ones they love to shreds with snarls and howls and sobs. He didn't even remember the day of the outbreak, but he knew plenty. His parents were gentle souls, but they were also honest ones. So, when he asked, they told; even when the answers were far from pretty. They would often combat the grim knowledge they’d have to bestow on their only son with times before the infection. Tales of potlucks and kids playing in the street. Tales of stores filled to the brim with anything you could ever need one hundred times over. Tales of birthdays. Of his own birth. His short childhood before everything happened. 

He often wondered what his room looked like at the time. What color the walls were. What sort of childish paraphernalia littered it. He wondered what his favorite toy was. He wondered what it was like to live without that constant fear of death and destruction of not only yourself but the people you care about. Sometimes it provided solace but, more often than not, it simply made him sad.  

He wondered what life was like for Dell; before his grandpa was infected and he had to blast the old man's brain to bits with his own shotgun. Before he joined their family. He wondered if he was happy before the outbreak. For Mick, it's all he's ever known. His parents used to joke about how there's no reason to feel homesick anymore because things then weren't too different from the deep Outback. The isolation. The danger. The need to fend for yourself because there's no help around for miles. They used to say it was almost nice; "Like we're right back at home!"   

Mick knew it was all bullshit. They never would have immigrated to America in the first place if they wanted to live in a place like that. His parents’ experience proved fruitful, however, and it was their teachings that served as the only reason Mick and Dell had been able to survive so long on their own. Mick felt guilty that Dell wound up being stuck taking care of him. The man had barely been on the cusp of being a legal adult when everything happened. When his parents… 

He doesn't like to think about it, despite the watch on his wrist being a constant reminder. Just another piece of them to carry. It had been his dad's since before the outbreak. Cheap but effective. It even had a small hinge that revealed a compass underneath the timepiece. The images of those trembling, weathered hands pressing the cool metal into his own; that hoarse voice of his father’s telling him "Keep it. Reckon I'm not gonna be around ta use it meself."; his mother wrapping him up in a hug with trailing tears and quiet sobs; Dell adding another two to his list of “guardians I’ve had to shoot dead”: it's something he won't ever be able rid his mind of. Watching your parents die right in front of you is something no seven-year-old should ever have to go through, but that’s just life. The timepiece didn’t even work anymore, but Mick still got plenty of use out of the compass with the hours him and Dell spent scanning maps, looking for their next town and praying it hadn’t been stripped to nothing; praying they got to survive another week. 

And then, a whopping 8 years later, they finally ran out of luck. It had been a tough winter. The snow had been insistent, blanketing and pillowing every square inch of land their tired eyes could see. The chill was extra bitter, nipping at their skin, their flesh, their blood ; their resolve. The two very quickly began to feel the effects of improper sleep and nutrition once the shivers began to wrack their frames, desperate to find any sort of reprieve. They had miraculously stumbled across a town so small it may as well have been a village, and further on, an abandoned taxidermy shop. Mick remembered the beady little eyes of every creature in that old building, strewn about. Some half-hanging off the wall, some littering the floor; the pungent scent of chemicals that still lingered in the air despite none of them being put to use for over a decade, if not longer. He had asked Dell if they could find somewhere else to sleep for the night, but it was so, so cold, and the shop was the most insulated, even if that didn’t say much. So, they pulled out their thick blankets and plopped right onto the ground, and in mere minutes the two were out, the promise of safety from the elements and the things that went bump at night finally letting their bodies surrender to slumber. 

A slow, drawn out, crooning “Oh Mickyyy~. Time to wake uuupp~” had roused Mick from his deep sleep, and he had awoken to two lifeless, black orbs right in his face, surrounded by the old, grimy fur of a dead raccoon. It had scared him so badly he screamed, and in his panic, he had kicked the possessor of the dingy taxidermy, Dell, right in the leg with such force it had sent his kneecap right out of place with a sickening pop. Dell’s snickers were swiftly replaced by his own scream as he collapsed to the floor, holding his leg and breathing through his teeth. Mick’s blood ran cold and before he even had a chance to fully wake up he was scrambling over, his hands cupping the air around the other’s knee, horrified at what he had just done. Dell had just kept saying “its alright, Stretch. It’s alright. I’ll be ok, I’ll be alright. It’s alright-“ in that soft, comforting voice and it just made Mick angrier at himself. And then Mick heard it. That drawling croak that had been a source of white-hot dread time and time again: the clicking of a clicker. Dell and Mick had both looked straight at each other with wide eyes, and the two of them fell dead quiet in a rigid tensity. But it was too late, the damage had been done. The croak turned into a screech, and Mick realized in terror that it wasn’t just one. It was multiple infected. Mick looked over at the small window of the door and he watched as three figures sprinted towards them, janky and uncoordinated. Air was sucked into his lungs in a jarring motion as fear iced his bones over, freezing him in place. They were already so close- 

Dell had shot up, using the wall behind him as leverage, and grabbed Mick, tugging him close to harshly whisper as he began dragging the younger across the room. He kept nearly tripping on the taxidermized animals beneath his feet with his lame leg in his urgency. 

“We need to get the fuck outta here, now! Cmon, let’s g-“ 

The already weak door proved to be a meager safeguard as it easily broke off its hinges as the weight of 3 bodies slammed against it, the infected crashing onto the floor with cries and groans on top of the sad piece of wood. Mick barely had time to look around before a vertigo overtook him and he was being thrown into the back room across the hallway, his shoulder painfully nicking the doorway. Mick cried out quietly as his heavy knapsack thudded into his chest, his arms barely making it in time to catch it. He looked up to see Dell already turning to face his three opponents and wielding his gun and machete with a grim but determined look on his face. Mick felt his heart drop and bile rise as Dell turned back around and shouted. 

“Go! Run until ya can’t run anymore, ya hear me? Run! ” 

Mick would never forgive himself for his cowardice. He listened. He ran. He ran until he couldn’t anymore. And when he couldn’t, he walked. And when he couldn’t, he dragged himself until he saw the geometric outlines of man-made buildings once more. He collapsed as soon as he saw the figures of watchmen looking over at him.

He had stumbled across the Boston Fortress.  

He was finally safe for the first time in his life. 

And it had cost him everyone. 

[charlesandmartine]

Saturday 26th October 2024

Slow to rise this morning but a very satisfying breakfast. Less frenzied I'd say with a systematic approach to building an Eggs Benedict without the hollandaise sauce. (There wasn't any) A bit more restrained was the intention. Trouble was, you get carried away and by the time the hash browns, mushrooms and tomatoes are added it didn't look much less indulgent than yesterday. But there were no sausages!

Nicely prepared for a day out in the sunshine we set off for the Anbangbang Rock paintings in Nourlangie. We don't make these names up. These caves were the traditional homes of the Warramal clan for perhaps 20,000 years, certainly 6000 years. So it's possible in that time the cave paintings may have changed a bit? I mean fashions do change don't they. Apparently a one Nayambolmi, also known as Barramundi Charlie, repainted some of them in the 1960s. The main character in the Anbangbang collection is of Namondjok, who somewhat disgraced himself, braking traditional law by committing incest with one of his clan sisters. Taking photos of him is prohibited as ill fortune will fall upon anyone who does so. Well I'll find out soon enough if that's true.

The rock formations that tower high above and almost engulf you are huge sea cliffs from 140 million years ago when with higher sea levels they formed a red sandstone and granite wall. Much later these very rocks were starring in Crocodile Dundee Two. At every twist and turn in the path we followed up their steep slopes we were imagining parts of the film; where the baddies were tied up, where Walt was tracking, where Dundee (Paul Hogan) would have stood to make his bush telegraph call and where he was shot and so on. The views across the outback from the top were absolutely stunning and for as far as the eye could imagine.

By now we were topping 41 degrees and the roadway was beginning to shimmer as we clambered back up and into the refreshingly chilled Ford Ranger. A quick visit to the Anbangbang Billabong found it very dry, silently waiting for the rains which are just a few weeks away to come. No crocodiles visible despite the warning sign and I don't blame for seeking alternative wet options.. We did spot an Emu braving the heat with her chicks in the bush by the roadside. Otherwise very little wildlife visible in this heat.

Back to the lodge and poolside for an interlude before Happy Hour!!! Two pints of Pale Ale.

Tonight's meal was from the lodge restaurant; Kangaroo Burger and chips. What better tribute could we possibly make to our hosts.

ps Skippy was a bit tough and didn't really taste much like chicken.

[writing-i-cant-sleep]

My first crush, Hallie Mills.

In third grade I was dorky. Spending my time overturning rocks and hopping in creeks. I never had an affinity for team based sports no matter how my parents marketed them to me. 

At the start of the year I was happy to have my best friend, Stephen Highmore, in the same class as me.

He was the sporty one of the two of us, playing tee-ball, soccer, and most importantly, Stephen was the fastest kid in the grade.

Stephen’s house was surrounded by forest and became the destination for almost all of our adventures. Stephen was an only child with a divorced mother who was always at work. He lived in a nicely sized house along with his grandparents who, after retiring from their position of lawyer and professor, spent their days sitting in the study reading old law books. Every few weeks Stephen’s eccentric artist of an uncle would take up residence in his basement studio and hole away working on meaningless projects. Given that Stephen’s father moved to Vermont after the divorce he was not around at all.

As you can see, Stephen’s house was a kingdom of no supervision.

One summer Stephen discovered his uncle’s hidden studio-stash of illicit items. Being the unruly boys we so often were, the stash of contraband became our main source of entertainment for years to come. Ignoring the cartons of cigarettes, oddly scented vase, and half finished bottles of various liquors, we found the most usefulness in the colorful array of lighters. After strategically stealing two of the Bic lighters, we would fill our pockets with action figures and walk into the woods in Stephen's backyard. For hours we would watch the plastic figures burn into nothing more than a bulbous puddle of carcinogens. 

Still I wonder what has had more effect on my health between the cowboy killer cigarettes I smoke or the black stringy plastic smoke I inhaled throughout the years of our friendship. 

Stephen’s mother, Heather, was a lovely caring woman. she would never hesitate in giving me a ride to my dreaded sports practices or letting me spend the night at their house. On special occasions Heather would load Stephen and I into her Subaru Outback that was coated in dog hair. We would drive to a diner to meet her “friend”, who later Heather revealed, through a post on facebook, was her partner. Our drive would continue deep into New Jersey to a farm she worked at. Stephen and I would spend our days as any boys with few rules would, catching frogs, subjecting ant hills to nuclear levels of devastation, and playing with the horse whips we would sneak from the barn. My days during this time were care free and simple. No concepts of money, the future, or women clouded my innocent view of the world. 

Of course, this all changed when Hallie Mills was put into Stephen and my 3rd grade class. Hallie was a pigtailed, olive skinned, athletic girl who’s hand worked on a spring mechanism when the teacher asked questions in class. It was love at first sight, or, the equivalent for a third grader who still assumed babies were left for families on doorsteps. Without the faintest idea of how to garner the attention of this sweet girl I had heart eyes for, I relied on the age old technique of throwing wood chips and running away. The results were lackluster to say the least. 

One icy winter Saturday after Stephen and I had been sledding on the hill in his front yard, Stephen taught me a secret of the world which firmly embedded itself into my developing brain, pornography. Still damp from melted snow with rosy wind burned cheeks, Stephen took me into his mothers office and signed himself in as a guest on her desktop. 

“Wanna see something?” 

The proposition was seemingly normal, but the feverish grin that took over his face told a more devient tale. 

Sitting shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip on Heather Highmore’s office chair we explored the filth that hid in plain sight on the internet. 

‘MILF takes HUGE cock’

‘Interracial BLOWJOB’

‘ANAL ADVENTURE’

‘Amature GANGBANG’ 

In an attempt to seem cool I acted as though these titles were old news to me. To Stephen, I had a long history with internet porn. In reality, my perception of women and brain chemistry changed forever at this exact moment, for the worse. As we watched in silent awe my mouth watered and blood pressure hit critical rates. 

As soon as I started feeling the new sensation of tightness in my underpants, Heather came home. 

Stephen then taught me another vitally important lesson in 5 quick steps…

how to clear a computer’s search history.

In an attempt to act normal, we donned our snow gear. Still sopping wet from our sledding expedition, we stepped into the cold, snowy, pornless wooded area behind Stephen’s house. Uncomfortable speechlessness fell onto us like a bookshelf onto the curious baby of negligent parents.  

With the surrounding world dampened by the lush snow, our trudging foot steps crunched intrepidly into our eardrums. 

I was picturing frames from the videos we had watched. More likely than not, Stephen was doing the same. 

We walked in imaginative silence for a while until plopping ourselves down in a snowless divet in the ground, formed and sheltered by the roots of a fallen oak. 

Stephen broke the silence.

“Have you ever jacked off?”

I answered the question with quizzical eyebrow movements.

Stephen continued “It’s when you watch porn and rub your… you know.” he sealed the statement with a suggestive hand wave. 

“Oh. I haven’t.” I said, feeling my ears heat up to the point I thought it would bring upon an early spring. 

Stephen and I were still best friends with no care in the world. 

In fact, this instant of sitting quietly in the frozen dirt, our heads swimming with smut, would be the closest we had ever been and sadly the closest we would ever be. 

“Don’t tell anyone, but I have a crush on Hallie Mills. Do you remember her? The girl in our class?” Stephen kept a locked gaze on his snow covered boots. 

The realization of what Stephen had said hit my gut with the speed and precision of a peregrine falcon striking a pigeon out of the air. Of course I knew who she was, I was absolutely in love with her, or at least as in love with her as a third grader who just discovered sex could be.  

My stomach pushed itself forcefully into the back of my throat, almost cutting off my ability to breathe, a feeling familiar to me now, jealousy. 

I managed to swallow my digestive tract back into its rightful location.

I tried to say something as anger and sadness fought for their place in the forefront of my next words, both became tired and plaintive. Self-pity took the helm.

“So do I.” 

The words slid off of my tongue and were seemingly frozen by the cold air, hanging motionless between my mouth and Stephen’s ears. A second passed, my words thawed, another second passed, and Stephen spoke the final nails into our friendship's coffin.

“You know she likes me right? You aren’t sporty enough for Hallie, and your haircut is stupid.”

My head spun for the next two days. 

I couldn’t argue with Stephen that my haircut was stupid. I had skipped out on actual haircuts for the last couple of years, letting my brown hair grow long, only occasionally I’d have my mother’s hair stylist thin out the mass of thick hair and shorten my bangs to keep hair out of my eyes. My odd haircut routine led to something that resembled a mullet with less appeal, more awkward cowlicks, and a worse shape. My hair swallowed my neck, nearly perfectly matching the width of my shoulders giving my skinny frame the appearance of explorative plants growing from a hanging pot, my lanky legs mimicking the spindly vines searching for support. It didn't help that I almost exclusively wore very skinny jeans that were ripped at the knee.

I thought they made me look like a cool skater kid. Sadly, they only reinforced the fragile plant look as the ripped threads mimicked desperate roots in arid waterless ground. 

I walked with an air of timidness as though everyone and everything was out to get me. My self esteem was nonexistent at such an early age, pushing me deeper and deeper into a shell of shelf hatred. The only reason one would consider me an ‘old soul’ or ‘ahead of my years’ would be because at only 9 years old, I had the self hate and angst of a 17 year old who just discovered the smiths. 

Stephen, Hallie, and I still had class together for the remainder of the year. Stephen and I still considered one another friends, but the friendship was strained by the love triangle. We fought over Hallie endlessly. Our time hanging out was no longer filled with boyish exploration, but instead discussion of who will make the next move. Not only did Hallie definitively like Stephen back. She made it very clear, with messages passed by her friends, that she did not like me at all and found me quite unattractive. 

Those whispered words from the girls have never left my ears, no matter who I become they will be with me. 

Every month my teacher, Mrs. Langine, would reassign the seating arrangements in class as a way for everyone to get to know one another. Seating was announced like an NBA draft, when your name got called you would go and sit in the chair closest to where the teacher was standing. This was your new seat. The second to last switch was where my active pursuit for Hallie’s heart turned into me wallowing in puddles of dejection. 

Mrs. Langine began to call out names one by one.

“Rebecca.” 

She takes a step to the right, “Matt.”

Another step, “Hallie.”

My heart skipped a beat, if my name was called I would finally have a chance to get to show Hallie that I wasn’t the ugly weird kid she so vocally saw me as. My eyes were pinpoint focussed on Mrs. Langine's lips. My ears waited anticipatedly for my name to be called. In a second of over confidence, I picked up my backpack as preparation to take my rightful seat next to my love.

“Stephen.” 

Mrs. Langine threw his name out there with an overly casual nature. It was as if she didn’t care at all of the destruction she caused to my naive heart. 

Stephen took his seat and smirked in my direction. 

My young brain flitted through emotions and phrases trying to pin down the best one to fit this exact moment. “Dang you” my brain thought, the third grade equivalent of a slur, the worst word I knew.

“Dang you.”

The school year went on.

I made other friends while ignoring the ‘relationship’ Stephen and Hallie had gotten into. I also made a huge effort to ignore their mean remarks about how skinny jeans are “for girls”, but it didn't work. I often cried to my mother about what they had said. 

I was self conscious about myself to the point I wasn’t able to make a change. This is where jealousy first planted itself in my head and my inner voice picked up the habit of putting me down. 

No matter how much I hated my stupid hair my inner monologue would remind me,

Getting a haircut will look even more stupid and everyone will judge you.

My skinny jeans were tattered and I despised them, but I’d be in my head,

What? Wear shorts? Then your skinny legs will be more visible, you’re a joke.

Even the thought of a girl crushing on me was shut down, 

You are unwanted and weird. People are uncomfortable looking at you, let alone have a crush. 

That little voice got really good at making me feel like shit, it was as if it knew exactly what I was thinking.

[ash-rik]

Saw this tag game, but I didn't want to bother anyone so it's tagless. Feel free to do this with your bg3 ocs and tag me or not 🙈

Name: Boon

Pronouns: He/They

Orientation: He's a transmasc enby who's demi and loves women. Sometimes attracted to men but rarely.

Nickname(s): 

Wyll humors Boon when he asks to be his sidekick. They're currently workshopping his sidekick name to go with the Blade of Frontiers because Crossbows of the Outback isn't cutting it. 

When Gale cooks, he tries to explain magic theory to Boon, but only some of it sticks. They refer to each other as master and apprentice for fun. 

Karlach will sometimes call him a rascal and ruffle his hair (they sibling bonded on sight). 

Shadowheart calls him the idiot bard or just an idiot when he does something really stupid, which is often enough that it could be considered a nickname (they're besties). 

Boon's heart warms whenever Jaheira calls him cub. 

He gets hit right in the kokoro when Lae'zel starts calling him “my joy”. 

Star sign: I dunno much about star signs but from a quick search maybe Gemini???

Height: 5'11

Race: Tiefling

Romancing: Lae'zel. They're the classic tale of opposites attract. Boon was drawn to her confidence and honesty, even if it's of a rougher variety. She speaks plainly, which is refreshing for someone in his line of work (thief). Her kindness takes a warped form due to her upbringing, but it's there. He sees it and tries to draw it out. He's gonna serenade that heart of stone of hers.

Favorite fruit: Grapes. He loves the crunchy ones and enjoys piercing into them with his fangs

Favorite season: Spring when it's not too hot or cold and he gets to feel the sun on his skin. Boon loves his crop tops and will go out walking barefoot in the grass or on the beach.

Favorite flower: I'm thinking violets. His mother was a follower of Lliira who favored them. She'd have violets all around the house. Boon has fond memories of tending to them with her.

Favorite scent: The smell of fresh bread and pastries always gets his mouth watering. His parents didn't have a lot of money, but the bakery was one place where they'd let him indulge on occasion.

Coffee, tea or hot chocolate: Coffee and tea. Coffee with a bit of milk and sugar helps him sleep. With tea, he loves that there are so many kinds and likes to try out new blends from different places. 

Average sleep hours: He'll sleep for as long as anyone will let him. So it's more dependent on what's currently going on in his life. Being a thief had him up at odd hours and made him a light sleeper.

Dogs or cats: Both. Every dog he sees, they're a puppy in his eyes. Young or old, big or small, he's happy to shower them in a ton of affection. And he'll spend forever finding the specific way a particular cat would like to be loved and do just that. But if he had to choose between dogs and cats, probably cats. He enjoys figuring them out and being chosen by them. Also, all the purring is very calming. 

Dream trip: Boon hasn't been to any cities outside of Baldur's Gate. He'd find it fun to take a road trip to the major cities along the Sword Coast.

Amount of blankets: Whatever number keeps him snug as a bug in a rug. He enjoys the feeling of being tucked in. Doesn't need as many if he's got someone to cuddle with.

Random fact(s):

Class: Bard/Rogue  

His tail is very flexible and is just as prone to theft as his hands.

He just broke out of prison after getting betrayed by his crew when the nautiloid snatched him up. The crew took him in when he was a kid after his parents were killed, but they didn't think twice to make him a scapegoat. And they didn't really treat him well, which is something he slowly starts to learn and unpack while being with the tadpole crew. Despite being a bunch of weirdos, the tadpole crew treat him far better.

He mistakenly thought Chicken was the name of the owlbear cub because that's what they called him back at the goblin camp. By the time Halsin tells him the truth, the owlbear already responds to the name. Just hoot hoots on over whenever he hears the word chicken. The little guy associates the word with getting loved on.

His dream guardian looked a lot like his mom, which is part of the reason he started munching on tadpoles. The main reason is because he felt incompetent compared to the tadpole crew. You've got a wizard prodigy, a hero of the Sword Coast, a githyanki warrior trained from birth, a vampire spawn, an archdevil's champion, and a Sharran spy/warrior. Then there's him, just some guy with a lute and sticky fingers. He wanted to keep up with the others, be useful to them, and not drag anyone down.

Sometimes when he tries to get out of doing something he doesn't want to do, he refers to himself as “just a little guy”, inferring that he's not up to the task. This ploy works 0.5 percent of the time. 

His parents named him Boon because he's a little boon to their lives given to them by the gods when they asked for a child.

[imyourbratzdoll]

“Searching for Eden.”

(no subject)

P

Paarthurnax

to me

6 hours agoDetails

“Searching for Eden.”

A person sitting on a motorcycle

Description automatically generated with medium confidence

Hugh Jackman x Reader (future), Chris Evans x Ex-wife!Reader

Introduction: Back in 2004, you married Chris Evans, the love of your life. Or so you thought. You two had been married for three years, until Chris started becoming more distant and bitter towards you and you two began fighting more. Things grew worse until one day he admitted to cheating and falling in love with another girl, then asked you for a divorce. He then made you sign a non-disclosure contact that you would never be able reveal Chris’s infidelity to the media. He made threats to your family and told you that you would never work in Hollywood again. After Chris got you to sign the contact and the divorce, he then forced you to pack a bag and send you back home to Wisconsin, with very little money and prospects, because Chris didn’t want you to work during those years you were married. Never in your life had you felt more destroyed.

Six months later in 2007, you got role on a new movie being filmed called “Searching for Eden” about a biblical, post-apocalyptic world where a wife and husband fight for survival together and trying to find some form of salvation in a hellish world taken over by demons. As you get on the movie set, you meet the actor to play your husband. Hugh Jackman, the Australian heart throb, and your life-long celebrity crush. As the movie production moves forward, the two of you grew closer and feelings start to surface. You were starting to feel happy and whole again after developing a deep, profound friendship with the talented aussie. When filming ended, you ask Hugh if he wanted to come and visit you in Wisconsin. He accepted and came to the bitter cold tundra you call home. He came a week after you invited him and met your family, who seemed to be quiet taken with him. One day, your younger sister was surfing the internet and saw the engagement announcement of your ex-husband, Chris was now engaged to the girl he cheated on you. Distraught, you run out of the house, but not without drawing massive amounts of attention.

Hugh, hearing this news, rushed to you and comforted you during your grief and hurt. You start to open up to him more about your divorce and told him about how he cheated and forced a disclosure contract to keep his public persona of “America’s golden boy” intact. Hugh decided that you should come home with him to Australia for a while and meet his family. They welcome you with open arms and you spend majority of your time getting to know his father, siblings, in-laws and nieces and nephews, and falling in love with the beauty of the outback of Australia. Over the next few months, you and Hugh grow even closer to one another. He tells you more about his home life and opened about his own childhood and his broken relationships. Eventually, your schoolgirl crush develops into something that runs deeper than what you never thought possible since your divorce.

Love.

Whether they are reciprocated? You could not say. The man is almost 13 years older than you. He was far out of your league with him so kind, intelligent, hardworking, funny and one of the most successful actors in all of Hollywood. No way on this planet he would really want someone like you. A shell of a woman who’s first husband cheated on her and shattered her trust in love all together.

What you didn’t know was that Hugh loved you just as much, from the very moment he met you. If it weren’t for your own grief and sorrow, you would have noticed on how Hugh always looked at you. Like you were God’s gift to the world.

He smiles sweetly whenever you enter the room. How he never could shut up about you to his father if he tried. He adored your laugh and how in awe you are from the beauty of his home country. The kindness and good-nature that never wavered and poured out of you like a river. Amazed he was by how intelligent, talented, and knowledgeable you were at a young age. He laughed and found it hilarious when you tried to fight off dangerous bugs in his home visiting Australia.

Often blushed like a schoolboy when he saw you undress for the movie you did together to perform a love making scene. Hugh wished that he really could do it for real, to be intimate with you in way that any man on this earth would have the privilege of experiencing.

How could that idiot yank cast aside such a perfect human being like that? For another girl that was not nearly as amazing as you? He would think to himself on more than one occasion in regarding to Chris Evans.

Can You get over your broken marriage, the dramatic heartache?

I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS! I CANT WAIT FOR WHEN YOU POST MORE!😩 the angst, the heartbreak, it’s everything we need

[antis-hell]

*dropkicks the qnappb at you like i would dropkick a child*

if you could go on vacation anywhere, where?? also, why, and what things would you do there?

-🦷

*scurries ferally across your screen*

Me(Anti): I want to go back to Ireland weirdly, I have some really nice source memories of it, but they were all from like the 19th century so I wanna see what it's like now! As for what I'd do, I'd probably go to like the proper cities and stuff cus they'd be cool to check out, but I REALLY wanna go out to like the forests and out just in the middle of nowhere cus honestly that's my happy place

Yancy: he wants to go back to America and travel around in the more deserty parts, mostly because it reminds him of his hometown. He likes road trips or just driving for hours on end out nowhere, so he'd probably drag us all to do that lol

Darky: He's actually quite happy(if that's even possible/lh) where we are right now. He's more comfortable in certain situations over places(if that makes sense). It's a boring answer ik but I couldn't drag anything else out of him

Ray: he wants to go somewhere like Japan or Sweden, somewhere cold cus he grew up in a warm place, so he always likes going to a place that's cold(preferably with snow). He said he would want to swimming in the water over there (because he's fuckin insane) and probably go mess around in the snow

Marvin: somewhere like New Zealand or somewhere with massive forests cus he likes the peace and all the animals that live there. She said that they'd like to stay out in a cabin really far away from other people so they could just wander for hours without interruption(honestly, I'd like to do the same one day)

Illinois: probably the easiest to fulfil, he wants to go really far west to the middle of the outback and camp out for a few weeks near fuck knows. He said cus it reminds him of when he used to just be dumped out in random places and expected to find shit and bring it back by himself

-anti💚🗡

[musesbykai]

The Lost Boys

Ooc: I wanted to write a short story about Oron’s time during the war and really wanted to get some background established for his platoon dubbed the Lost Boys. I’m personally pretty happy with how it turned out even if it isn’t perfect.

Content Warning for racism. Lachlan is a pretty racist dude.

Enjoy!

The Lost Boys. The Best of the best.

A team of soldiers trained to handle any threat that may present itself to the red soils of the Australian outback. They only had one goal, protect the integrity of the nation, the land and its people. Right now, all three were under siege. 

Mega Corporations were well aware of the resources that the island housed and they wanted nothing more but to take it for themselves. For months, the army of Australia was at war with these Mega Corporations with no end in sight. Many were wounded, many were killed but neither side was willing to surrender.

Sergeant Oron Eaton was on patrol in Broome; A small community nestled in the northern part of Western Australia. The town itself housed one of Australia’s crucial military bases which served them well during the war. While the town was the target of several attacks, things seemed pretty quiet. 

With his heavy boots kicking the red sand next to the asphalt road and his gun in his hands, the Sergeant released a heavy sigh. He looked a little down.

Next to him was his best mate and second in command, Lachlan.

“What’s got ya down in the dumps?” Lachlan spoke up, softly nudging his friend with the butt of his gun.

There was a glance towards the other but Oron took a second to respond. “Ah… just missin’ Jilbie is all. We haven’t been able to talk much.” He gave a sigh, making sure that his boot kicked some of the larger loose rocks in the sand.

“Ah. Jill, ya really still seein’ her, mate?”

“Jilbie.” The infliction in Oron’s voice was a good indication that he was trying to correct Lachlan. “Yes, I’m still datin’ her. I don’t want to jinx it, but I am really starting to think that she’s the one.”

“Really?” Lachlan began to mumble something under his breath. “Never really saw ya endin’ up as some kind of race mixer.”

“What?”

“Nothin’, just never really saw ya end up with someone like her.”

Oron thought about that statement. “You only really met her once, she…” He smiled. “She has a wild side that comes out after a while. Damn, she could even drink me under the table.”

The smaller one of the pair, Lachlan just shrugged at that response. “Don’t get too distracted. If ya find yourself in a situation where one thought about your girlfriend or wife or whatever will pull you out of the fight just long enough to get shot… then that’s on you mate. Don’t come cryin’ to us if you end up losing a leg.” His voice was serious as he gave Oron a glare, weight shifting from one foot to the other.

Oron opened his mouth to respond to that but simply closed it only because there were so many thoughts running through his head. No, he wouldn’t let himself slip like that. Even though he was in love and his heart was currently in Darwin, laying down next to Jilbie, his mind was solely focused on the Lost Boys, his family. It’s the place where he needed to be at the moment.

However, the radio strapped to Oron’s chest crackled to life. “Lost Boys, come in Lost Boys.” The sound made them both slow down their pace and eventually stop. Oron gripped the radio and held it up to his face.

“Commander Eaton responding.”

“We have three trucks speeding along the highway straight for Broome. Scouts spotted them about half an hour from town. You’ve been granted permission to dispose of these invaders with any means necessary.”

Lachlan heard the transmission not only through Oron’s radio but his own as well. He held up his weapon, a grin forming on his face as he stepped in front of his commander. “Well, it looks like today won’t be so boring after all.”

“That appears to be the case.” The other grunted as he pressed a button on the side of the radio. “Lost Boys, Oron here. Five minutes, edge of town on the highway. We don’t have much time. Time to do what we do best.”

Four voices responded with “Roger.”

The laugh from Lachlan was almost infectious as the pair of them started to race towards the meeting location. Oron was very much more serious about the situation, it wasn’t fun and games. People’s lives were on the line here.

Just outside of Broome, a group of thirty soldiers stood on top of a red hill. It was just far enough so there was no chance to be spotted by the incoming force. One soldier was lying on the hard rock, eye looking down the sights of his sniper rifle.

“Got a visual Wayne?”

“Ehhh yup. Just like they said, three trucks… full of soldiers. ETA roughly fifteen minutes.” The sniper responded, pulling himself up.

“What’s the plan boss?” One of them spoke up, shifting in his spot.

Oron began to think, brown eyes looking at the dust clouds in the distance. “Right. Wayne, you’ll station yourself up on that hill.” He pointed in the distance. “Your job is to shoot out the tires of the first truck which will cause them to either get hit or swerve in order to avoid a collision.” He turned back to his men. “We’ll use the element of surprise to get the jump on them. They will most likely be using medium to close range weapons, any outliers to that rule and Wayne will take care of them.”

“Righto mate.” Wayne responded, already packing up his gear. There wasn’t much time.

“There is some tall grass just by the road, use that for cover.” Oron motioned towards a patch of bushland. “Stay low and follow me.”

“Yes Sir!” They all saluted, even Lachlan.

Oron held up his weapon. “Together we rise! The Lost Boys will never fall!”

Cheers erupted for a split second before the group started to make their way into the long grass, each of them crouched down in order to avoid the possibility of being spotted. 

As the sun began to set over the desert landscape, a battle was rapidly approaching. The Lost Boys remained well hidden in the grass, Oron in front of his platoon as they waited for their time to strike.

Wayne’s scope followed the front truck, his finger slowly putting weight on the trigger. He took in a deep breath before finally taking the shot. The sound echoed through the empty landscape, bouncing off the hills. 

It hit its mark and the bullet pierced the reinforced rubber.

Due to the sudden loss of pressure, the target started to skid all over the road with the driver struggling to regain control. Metal on metal clashed as it slammed into the right truck next to it before it flipped onto its side, creating a roadblock that forced the other two to stop. Things fell silent. The soldiers that survived the rollover slowly crawled out, many groans and grunts followed.

“What the hell was that?!” One of them spoke as the driver pulled himself out of a busted window.

“I don’t fucking know! Tire popped!” He struggled a little but managed to get himself up ever so slightly. “Even the trucks want to kill themselves in this goddamn countr-” Before he could finish his sentence, a bullet pierced through his head. The body slumped over, revealing the Lost Boys with Oron holding a smoking gun. Lowering the weapon, the commander smirked.

Shocked by the sudden turn of events, the soldiers took a second to process the situation. They clearly weren’t expecting push back with such numbers.

“G’day.” Oron smirked, his men readying their weapons.

“F-Fuck.” One soldier trembled, he looked pale as his eyes wandered to the emblem on Oron’s shirt.

The one that was previously talking to the driver turned to face the seemingly scared comrade. “What!?”

“The Lost Boys.” He responded. “Y-you know the ones they've been talking about? When you see the kangaroo, say your prayers..”

“Oh so you’ve heard of us.” The commander laughed, turning to his best mate.

“Looks like words gettin’ out about our work, about bloody time I reckon.” Lachlan laughed.

While the two Australians mocked him, the enemy soldier simply slapped his comrade. “Then let’s put an end to their shit then! Attack!” Soldiers started to flow out of the other two trucks, around fifty of them spreading out and taking cover.

“Oh, fuck me!” Oron shouted. “Cover our flanks! Lachlan you’re with me!” He slid behind the fallen truck with Lachlan following close behind.

Gunfire started to erupt on the highway with both sides trading blows. All of the Lost Boys were in some kind of cover, shielding themselves from incoming fire while dishing out some hefty hits back. The opposing end had many more numbers, but it was clear that the Lost Boys had a lot more combat experience.

Oron looked up, seeing the bullets flying above. “Fuck okay. A lot more than I thought.” He whispered but despite the noise, Lachlan picked up on.

“They really wanted Broome huh, don’t know why… full of Abos.” The other also peered his head out.

It didn’t take long for the Lost Boys to be pushed back, considering the numbers that they were fighting, battles like these didn’t last long.

The commander decided to not address the comment but he did notice something as he took a second look. And just like that, he was able to spot an opening. “There. A hole in their formation. Both you and I will be able to get around and jump them from the back. We’ll be able to take out a good chunk while their focus is in front of them.”

Lachlan looked to where Oron was staring. “Sounds dumb enough to work. Let’s get moving.”

Remaining crouched down, Oron snuck around to the front of the fallen truck with Lachlan just behind him. They did manage to remain undetected thanks to the soldiers pushing forward. He stopped about half way just so he could see how his platoon was doing.

Bodies were hitting the blistering asphalt as the Lost Boys were expertly keeping them back. No bullet was wasted, each shot coming from the elite Australian group was hitting their marks. Numbers mattered not to them, they were equipped to handle almost anything.

Satisfied with how they were holding their own, the commander crouch ran to the second truck before slamming his back against the metal. His best mate did the same and it seemed like they had both managed to remain spotted. The element of surprise was a positive advantage once again. Moving their way to the driver’s door, Oron peaked out of cover.

“Alright Lachlan annnd.” He held up his hand, Lachlan pulled up his gun and took aim.

“Fire!”

Instantly on the command, Oron and Lachlan opened fire. Rifle rounds pierced the backs of the soldiers, forcing them to scream out in agony as their final breath. One by one they fell, numbers now dwindling so that it had become a fairer fight. It worked right as Oron predicted and it was certainly the push that they needed to turn the tide of the battle to their favor.

Well… that was until the driver door swung open, hitting Lachlan in the face.

“Cunt!” The second in command shouted in surprise as he stumbled back, hand holding his bleeding nose. Oron continued shooting until he heard the exclamation from his friend.

“What the fu-” Before he could finish his sentence, arms wrapped around his collarbones and one black gloved hand planted itself right on his mouth.

Unbeknownst to the pair of them, the driver had opted to remain in the truck when the soldiers unloaded themselves. He was going to remain out of the fight but seeing all of his friends and comrades being overrun by a group of filthy Australians was a bit too much for him.

“You fucking asshole, I’ll kill you!” The American accented man shouted right in Oron’s ear causing him to flinch. Oron couldn’t exactly respond due to the hand basically gripping his lips.

“Fucking pig!” Using his free hand, the driver pulled out a knife from its holster that was strapped on his leg. He wasted no time and dug it straight into the side of Oron’s head, straight into the forehead. The blade easily pierced through the commander’s skin, blood pouring down half of his face and dripping onto the road below.

A scream erupted from Oron’s mouth, his nerves instantly reacting to the stab. It was hard to tell what his body wanted to do, whether it wanted to activate into Flight or Fight. However, in this very moment he couldn’t exactly flee so he had no choice but to fight if he wanted to live. Throwing his weapon to the ground, Oron wrapped his hand around the one that gripped the weapon. He attempted to yank it out of him in order to avoid the possibility of more damage being done or worse. At this point he was at risk of losing an eye.

Though his motions to yank it out only caused the attacker to dig the blade deeper into his head and slice upwards several inches into the forehead. Laughter rumbled from within his throat as he leaned closer to Oron’s ear. “And I thought you guys were meant to be the boogeymen of the Outback, not so scary after all.”

The Australian was staring him down. If he was going to die, he was going to die fighting. Smacking the driver into the truck with a thud that only a body slammed against metal could create, Oron attempted to throw him off. His grip was strong however, and it only grew stronger with each attack.

“Fucking wanker!” That was the only thoughtful response he could muster up in the moment. Not much to really say, he would rather save his energy to actually survive. With one last yank of the knife, Oron managed to at least get the tip of the blade away from his Optic Nerve. 

Frustrated, the attacker yelled and went in for another stab but then, a gunshot from behind. Bits of brain matter and bone fragments splattered on both Oron and the pavement below as the hand lost grip of the blood soaked weapon. Throwing the now limp driver off of him, Oron started to take in a few breaths. That was the closest he had been to death for a good while.

Holstering his pistol, Lachlan approached Oron and placed a hand on his shoulder. A quick inspection of the wound was needed. “Ah, it ain’t nothin’” He chuckled, patting the commander’s shoulder. “Lost Boys don’t cry for that.”

There was a hint of a smile from Oron’s end as he rubbed the fresh blood from his cheek. “Its gonna be one fuckin’ big headache in the mornin’.”

“Honestly, I’d be surprised if it’s worse than that one hanger ya got in Alice Springs. Ya could’ve puked them a new river with how sick ya were.” Lachlan laughed harder this time, prompting Oron to laugh along with him ever so slightly. That was until his face hurt from smiling. 

He looked back at the battlefield, it was evident that the Lost Boys won the battle. With Wayne’s cover fire and the surprise attack from behind by the pair of them, the enemy forces were quickly overwhelmed by the rest of the platoon.

Holding his weapon up, Oron signaled their victory. A few were hit but there were no casualties on their end which was always a bonus. The Lost Boys celebrated, even Wayne who managed to just make his way down.

“Good job everyone. Nothing short of a clean sweep. You all fought brilliantly.” Oron lowered his weapon, glaring at one soldier that was attempting to crawl away. Lachlan was quick to dispose of him with a bullet to the back of the head.

“Now… let’s go get some beers!” Of course he wouldn’t go to a medic right away. Drink then seek medical attention, the true blue aussie way!

No survivors, no mercy. They invaded their land and they deserve nothing less than death. When you see the kangaroo, say your prayers, for the Lost Boys have found you.

[bylroos]

when i was younger (ages 4-8, at its peak) i was obsessed with the concept of being a teenager. my aunt, who i say now is only 12 years older than me, did a lot of my babysitting around then, and i was obsessed with her, and her teenager-hood. and i remember how every time, after getting a single scrape or bruise, i would go to her and tell her it hurt. and until she did her magic teenager kiss on the wound it wouldn’t feel any better. i was enamored with the concept of being a teen—when i played pretend with my sister, instead of doing magical fantasy adventures, we would pretend like we were teenagers in high school. i spent my first decade planning my entire prom outfit down to the rings i would wear, i knew exactly where i wanted to work part-time, and i knew exactly what type of car i was going to buy with the money i saved (a pearly white volkswagen beetle).

my teenage years were some of the worst years of my life. from the time i started high school to the time i turned twenty, it’d take more than two hands to count the times i legitimately planned to end my life. only two fingers to count how many times i’d come within hours of executing my plans. one finger to count how many times (and how many weeks) i spent in the psych hospital after the second time. my teenage years weren’t only sad and pitiful, but they also weren’t what i had envisioned at all. i never went to prom (got dumped by my friends 72 hours before the event), never got the job i had wanted as a child (a waitress at one specific dive bar; although i did end up becoming a barista, which i think i enjoyed doing more than i would’ve my initial plan) and i never got that dream car (i no longer want a beetle, i haven’t for a decade, and i am beyond happy i still have my outback nearing on two decades old). my teenage years were nothing but a disappointment. to me. and to the people around me.

but god. i’m barely 21 now. barely even in my twenties. i have decades upon decades upon decades left to live my life. i’m stressed, and miserable, and going through the nightmare that is medic school, but i also haven’t thought of killing myself in over a year. haven’t self harmed for longer than that. i can see myself getting better. see myself getting stronger. i have so much freedom now, and i know i’ll have so much joy soon too. what i thought i’d have in my teenage years, i don’t have yet, but i know i will soon. i live in an apartment in a city i had never even thought of as a kid and i’m something close to happy. i can see happy on the horizon. i still drive my 20 yr old car and i wouldn’t change her for the world. i can carry the past with me, carry what i thought the future would be with me, that hope, that optimism and use it to build my own path, a path that has strayed so far off the one i had built for myself, but a path i don’t find myself regretting going down nonetheless.

i’m not a teenager anymore, no, and i can’t say i’m not glad for that. but what i can say is that whatever my childhood self wanted to get out of my teenage years, it’s not too late to make happen. just because i didn’t get something when i wanted it doesn’t mean i won’t get it at all. just because i wasn’t happy then doesn’t mean i can’t be happy now.

[theinfernalcalypso]

In response to this ask, list 5 songs you enjoy listening to, post them publicly ! And send this ask to the last 10 people in your notifs (if you want).

You would make me choose like this. You would make me choose in such a broad category-

I'm jk lemme give u a list in SMALLER categories based on hyperspecific emotions I've experienced lately!

Entropy - Arrows in Action

This is for the fact I have... felt very stuck. I have several things I want to do, but they're all dependent on other factors that have to come to fruition first that I have no control over. Whether I should give up and do something more instantly gratifying specifically. It also evokes my feeling I've experienced lately regarding DC if anyone remembers that post.

2. Somewhere Only We Know - Keane

This is... somewhat related to the above. I don't know if it's the feeling of foreshortened future brought on by the trauma, or the perspective I have regarding how humans don't live very long at all really, or that it feels like the world is headed for an end soon. But, I do know I just wanna curl up somewhere with the people I love and just enjoy it. I feel far older than my body would tell you (even my joints who insist I'm 60), and I certainly feel like things are far more limited as far as time. I just wanna spend it with the people and the things I do that make me happy. I don't wanna live in capitalistic need like we've been forced to (at least within the states).

3. Seventeen - The Heathers The Musical Soundtrack

Oh, god, where do I start here? There's a few factors this one was brought back to me lately, getting back together with my highschool sweetheart (Bunny) being one of them. (I guess if anyone wants that story? Ask??) It's for mourning a youth lost, where I was parentified and made my mother's therapist. It's for being so anxious about ever being in trouble and mourning every missed opportunity to sneak out and live for a change. It's for the fact I was 19 when I met my abusive ex and went from the frying pan (my mother) into the fire when I moved in with him (13 hours away from any family in either VA or SC) and didn't realize what I'd gotten myself into. I want it all back but I know it's far too late for that.

4. Goddess - Cephied ft. Nonon

Since I moved back home (well, one of two places I could consider as such on a people basis), I've... kinda been lacking in my craft because of everything I've had to get settled even months later (like I voted!! I've never had the opportunity to do that before and I had to get my ID sorted for that shit!!). A lot of the time, meditating (one of my most frequent forms of not just decompressing but also for "tuning in" really) for me looks like bedrotting. I put my headphones on, I curl up in bed (usually in the dark), and I maladaptive daydream. Yes, sounds unconventional. But it's how I've adapted my practice to my capabilities. But also I mean, my daydreams in this fashion sometimes go off the rails from what I want them to be and I feel like I've managed to adapt it into a form of oneiromancy (for those who may be confused by the term: divination through dreams!). This is probably my most often used form of it for digging up memories of past lives I have, others being tarot, the conventional form of oneiromancy, and more broadly (to give me a starting point) using a pendulum for those I feel like would be a good source to ask. I have yet to actually put my bones for osteomancy (aka bone throws) to use. (... I degreased exactly seven bones that I saved from a plate of ribs from the outback.) ... this ended up being very much a ramble about my magic practice oopsie.

5. Over It - Arrows In Action

Alright. Alright. I know. I already put Arrows In Action on this list. But also the entire album Built to Last on top of their new song Cheekbones have been obsessions lately. I blame the fact I've been hyperfocused on Vampire the Masquerade lately and my character in the solo chronicle Bunny's running for me is literally just me if I was a vampire and that the album + Cheekbones is just applicable to in and out of game stuff lately. (Seriously, go listen to at least the stuff listed individually listed here if nothing else. Their music FUCKS-) But also, specifically, this brings me to where I recently mentioned to Bunny and Puppy that there's a few different mindsets I vacillate between. I'll just paste the text for the two relevant ones. "I am a teenager/young adult who feels utterly shattered by the burdens life has placed on me. I contemplate whether it's worth it to try and keep going. My clothes smell like nicotine and I crave the release of alcohol to make things feel a little lighter." "I am an ageless being that predates man. I have seen them rise, fall, and get back up again to repeat the process for millennia. I have such disdain for some aspects, even individuals, but then I also have an overwhelming love for them."