#Poor Anchor

[gazspookiebear]

Hello again, silly! :D How are you doing today! How is the weather! Hope everything is going well for you! I hope you're not tired of talking about Anchor yet, because I'd love to send in a few more prompt question thingies! Tell me when I'm being annoying and I'll stop, alright? :>

How are their parents? Are they good? Are they terrible? Are they dead?

Are they looking for someone to save them or do they think they’re beyond saving?

Do they have a found family?

I hope you have a nice day! I also hope you slept well and had some good dreamies as well!!

The weather's nice, perfect day for talking about Anchor!

Their birth parents aren't good people. They were neglectful and only did enough to keep Vodid alive until they were old enough to survive on their own. Coincidentally, that was around the same time Sparrow was born, so they were left to raise her on their own. They don't know if their birth parents are alive, and they don't particularly care either. They were never close.

They don't really think they need to be saved. As far as they're concerned, they saved themself.

I suppose Laswell and Gaz would count as their found family? They're close in a way that isn't really friendship, it's more familial

(I had a weird ass dream last night where I think I was a cop? Ew.)

[pixelatedraindrops]

Happy Birthday Yakou! 🚬💙🎉

The best roommate, mentor, boss, father figure and caretaker Yuma could ask for💕

I had to try to make something for him. I’ve grown to adore him almost as much as yuma as I kept putting them in various scenarios the past half year.

(its kinda for both of them since their birthdays are only a day apart from each-other??)

So yeah, birthday cuddles for them both~ 💜💙

[markantonys]

reddit:

literally every other WOT viewer in the world:

[coolestclowns]

Bro Ur mascaras running, oh? Not mascara? What it is then Bro? Ohhhhh, the darkness that consumed your eyes as you witnessed the horrors of the doodlers existence? What's that Bro? He's just like you fr? Do you want a tissue?

[mielmoto]

not to be too candid on main but i can attest that not all weak-in-the-knees swoony-moony-ness is just silly romantic literary fluff/conjecture because my ex + witness friends can confirm that about 75% of the times i have ever received a smooch while standing i have genuinely started to lose/lost my balance.

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Whenever (not me thinking yesterday wasn't Wednesday for a good chunk of it and then being too drained to post... just pretend I ain't late) | Tagged by @direwombat @adelaidedrubman and @nightbloodbix ❤️

I'm coming with Calahan and Mary May POVs for this week's check-in. All the feels, for sure. 💔

Light streamed into the living room of Mary May's place on the second floor of the Spread Eagle, making Calahan change positions and bury his face in the couch cushions in an attempt to get a couple of extra minutes of rest. The previous night, he had sneaked back into the bar with Leslie for a celebratory drink after they had successfully gotten Zorro and his clothes out of his Peggie infested cabin. Once they had parted ways, he had climbed upstairs as quietly as he could and crashed on the couch without a much craved shower, knowing Mary May would be out cold at the late hour and wouldn’t appreciate him barging into her bedroom unannounced. The first thing he heard that early morning as he did his hardest to stay asleep were her footsteps as she left her room and headed for the small kitchen. She was humming under her breath as she made coffee, the scent carrying over to him and teasing his senses. A few minutes later, a cup was placed at the coffee table next to him, and he could feel Mary May looming over the couch. When she didn't move, he reluctantly turned and looked at her with blurry eyes, "Is it an emergency?" He took a second to take in her messy blond hair and oversized t-shirt, ignoring the slightly annoyed look on her face. "Good morning to you, too, Rookie.", she rolled her eyes at his impatient tone before moving back to the kitchen to make herself breakfast. "I could feel you staring, you know.", he retorted and threw a hand over his eyes, deciding he would lay down a little bit longer seeing how for the past few days he had been running around the Valley on so many errands and barely getting any sleep. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, I was making sure you were still breathing. Can't have the Resistance lose its leader." Calahan let out a laugh at her dodging his flirting yet again, "Whatever you say, gorgeous."

Mary May took a seat on the small kitchen table that only had two chairs thanks to the tiny space she was using as living quarters. She bit into a piece of toast before asking, "So how did it go with John's doppelganger? What trouble did you get him into?" "He's got potential, that's for sure. Helped me get my shit from the cabin, and we had fun doing it. Remind me to have a word with Sabrina for hiding him." "And did "your shit" also include a certain raccoon?", she raised an eyebrow. Calahan peeked over the back of the couch, sending a smile her way that usually worked in convincing people to see things his way. With Mary May, sadly, all his tactics seemed to have the opposite effect usually. "Zorro will be on his best behavior, I promise. You won't even notice he's around. Plus… he gives mean foot rubs." "Rookie.", disbelief seeped into her tone. "Fine. The foot rubs were a lie. Though, I can take up on that task." "You ain't coming anywhere near my feet, Rookie." "Your loss. And Zorro?" "You really love gettin' on my nerves early in the morning." Calahan gestured around her living room, "He won't take up much of your space and he will be out with me, anyway." Mary May let out a laugh, the first sign he was getting somewhere, "It's like you're trying to sell me a piece of furniture." "I couldn't leave him behind, gorgeous. He's my son." A huff escaped her, probably at the pout he followed his words with, "He's a raccoon."

"Still my son. He was defending the cabin, you know. Costed one Peggie a finger. Scared the life out of Leslie, too, to the point he tried to flee the room like a bat out of hell. It was hilarious.", he couldn't help the proud smile that emerged at the memory. His words piqued her interest, "Did he now?" "Told you I was teaching him tricks before Joseph's takeover. He is one of us, just stuck in a raccoon body, unable to talk." Mary May rolled her eyes before saying, "Fine. He can stay. Just… keep "your son" in check. I find something in here destroyed, he gets the boot." "You love him, you just don't want to admit it. Thank you.", he blew a kiss her way before lying back down and shifting his gaze up to the ceiling as his mind ran over the potential tasks he could take on next. He was dying to take a drive and check up on Hurk and Sharky, knowing the two were probably in the deep with the cult, but he knew chances were less capable of taking care of themselves people needed his help in the Valley. "Have him scratch a Seed's eye out or something, and I might start to like him." Silence took over as Mary May finished her breakfast while Calahan closed his eyes, set on enjoying the precious minutes of peace, knowing with the County on lockdown that never truly lasted. Eventually, she got up and walked to the couch, her arms came to rest on the back as she leaned over to look at Hartley. "You're staring again.", he muttered before cracking one eye open and meeting her baby blues, "Not that I mind." "Whatever you say, Sleeping Beauty. It's rare that you shut up, forgive me for thinking you had fallen asleep on me." "Sleeping Beauty, huh? There's a proven method to wake me up then, gorgeous." "You say, 'a kiss', I'm banning you from the bar for a week, Rookie." "You're no fun.", he stuck out his tongue, before asking, "So… why did you need me awake?"

Mary May took a deep breath, for once looking uncertain, "I know you have enough on your plate as is and I don't want to join in with all the folks asking you for help…" Calahan rose up to a sitting position that brought him on the same eye level as her when he said in a serious tone, "Whatever you need, just ask." He was well aware only inches separated them to the point he could start counting the freckles scattered across her nose and she seemed to have realized the same thing as her gaze darted to his lips for a second. It happened so quick he could have missed it if he had blinked, but he didn't. You like me, Angel. Too bad you refuse to admit it, let alone act on it. But in a way Calahan was glad about her faking disinterest. He told himself it was for the best, that it would be an unwanted complication in the middle of a holy war, that the last thing he needed was to fall for anyone and he was certain with her it would be unavoidable and as natural as breathing. The biggest trouble I can ever get myself into. He had wholeheartedly expected Mary May to pull back and put more space between them, but as the seconds ticked by, she remained glued to the spot with an unreadable expression on her face. She finally cleared her throat, "I was wondering if you'd help get the Widowmaker back." "Your daddy's truck?" Mary May nodded, sadness swimming in her eyes, "John had his men steal it. And as you know, I was too "preoccupied" to chase after them.", a frown appeared as she added, "Bastard doesn't know how to keep his hands off my things, does he?" "We're getting it back, gorgeous. And the next thing of his I fuck up, you bet would be dedicated to you." A small smile that pulled at his heart erased the scowl, "Can I come with?" "Like you even have to ask me that.", Calahan booped her nose and got up, heading for the bathroom as he called out, "I'm going to put a word out, find where they're keeping the truck."

Mary May watched Hartley disappear into her bedroom and stayed put until she heard the bathroom door close behind him. The second it did, she took it as a sign to move and entered the room, trying to ignore the sound of the running water and the visuals that threatened to appear in her mind. She quickly changed into a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, wanting to not waste too much time in case Calahan decided to cut his shower short. She couldn't deny for some reason it had taken her a more than the usual amount of willpower to stop staring at his bare chest as he slept on her couch that morning. The fact he had called her lingering gaze out didn't help matters. Should tell him to find a new place to sleep at or at least shower elsewhere. Definitely to stop walking around shirtless and promise I'd throw him out otherwise. Yeah, he'd have a field day hearing that one. Mary May immediately hated the idea of making him leave, she had grown used to having his presense around the bar and how he was always willing to try to make her crack a smile or offer a distraction from the headaches John Seed was causing her. Calahan Hartley was a ball of chaos, but also a breath of fresh air and a helping hand to anyone that needed assistance at dealing with the cult. Days back John had spared no resources in taking over Fall's End, finally succeeding at closing down the Spread Eagle with her en route back to his bunker, to the hell she had barely escaped last time.

Or so the bastard thought. The victory hadn't lasted long. Just until Hartley had barelled into town in no other than a stolen Peggie truck and wipped out John's men like nobody's business. Then he had rushed at her with worry in his eyes, curse words directed at the youngest Seed spilling out of his mouth as he had cut her free. "Are you hurt, Mary May? 'Cause I swear to God, John won't know what's coming for him… I ain't losing anyone else.", he had asked while he examined her all over, his tone dead serious, promising of good old trouble headed John's way. As she, Calahan and Jerome had pried away the boards nailed to one of the only things her father had left her: the bar and reopened it, Mary May had been the first to offer the Deputy a place to stay when he needed it, feeling like it was the least she could do as a thank you for helping her keep her promise and her old man's wish alive. Off-key singing pulled her out of the memory and she found herself biting back a smile at the idea that the man that was rapidly turning into the Project's number one enemy and had somehow ended up leading a resistance against it, was currently showering in her very bathroom and acting like anything but a vicious vigilante. Not all heroes wear capes, alright. Some work as deputies that have broken more laws than the people they arrest and own a raccoon they consider a son. She quickly exited the bedroom and strode downstairs, set on preparing the bar for the day and putting any thoughts of Hartley at the back burner, where they belonged.

The first thing to greet her were small feet scurrying off across the wooden floors that made her release a sigh before she called out, "Zorro." Initially the name had no effect until seconds later when a head poked out from behind the bar and "Calahan's son" rushed at her, wrapping his paws around her leg in what his owner deemed as "greeting". "Morning to you, too, boy.", Mary May muttered as she stared down at the raccoon, then pointed towards the stairs, "Up to your father you go now. I have to open the bar. Can't have you chasing off paying customers." The raccoon made no move, dark gaze trained on her face, forcing her to repeat more sternly, "Up, Zorro." At the command Zorro finally sprung into action, waddling over to the stairs and sneaking a look her way to see if she was following as he began to climb up. He got half of the way and stopped, making Mary May shake her head, "What? Want me to come too? Fine. Guess I do need to open the door for you. Maybe he should teach you how to do that." The second her boots hit the first step, the raccoon resumed his ascend. "Bit off a Peggie's finger, did ya now?", Zorro's ears perked up as if he understood her words, "Good job.", then she frowned, "And I'm talking to a raccoon. Your daddy is rubbing off on me, Zorro." She pushed open the door that separated the downstairs area and her living quaters and followed him inside at the exact moment Calahan chose to emerge from her bedroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist as he dried off his hair with another.

"Jesus, Rookie.", the words left her before she could stop them, winning a laugh out of him. "Thought you headed down. Sorry.", Hartley explained sheepishly, while his smug smile was anything but apologetic and only widening at the fact she was most definitely gawking and yet to get anything else out, "Enjoying the view, gorgeous? For the record, I don't blame you for coming back for more." Pull yourself together. Mary May returned her narrowed gaze back to his face, and after a final look at him, she twirled around and said, "Make sure your son behaves." The door cut off his throaty laughter while she took the stairs two at a time and tried her hardest to stop her mind from wandering into a dangerous territory, of wondering what the small tattoo above his hip spelled. Sure as hell ain't asking him. He won't let me live that one down. Back down in the bar, she made it her mission to exorcize him from her thoughts, focusing on taking down the chairs and making sure everything was in place for opening and when she ran out of tasks to keep her preoccupied, she moved onto the small kitchen, arranging whatever Casey had left out of place. Mary May frowned at the knowledge her only employee was no doubt going to be late, that she had nobody to distract her with small talk.

She was used to Calahan's advances, to his casual flirting, had gotten pretty good at ignoring it all and having an array of reasons why she had to do it. Yet as the months passed and he stuck around, the list with reminders of why getting involved with him was out of the question had suddenly started to become shorter. She was starting to forget. To yearn. It was the worst idea to harbor. Especially now that everything had gone to shit. Maybe I should send him to sleep at the church… make him Jerome's problem. Then she'd be all alone again. Left to dwell on the past, on everything she had lost and regretted. Or she could continue laughing at Calahan's jokes. Have his devilish blue eyes be the first thing she saw each morning. Yes, keeping him around for the time being sounded like the better option. A car engine cut off outside, followed by the jiggle of the bell above the bar's entrance that made her poke her head in through the serving hatch of the kitchen, "We're not open yet." Her breath hitched for a second as her eyes settled on the person that had entered.

Phantom pain shooting across her chest inevitably came next, just like it had with his surprising arrival the day before. It was almost as strong as it had been in that awful moment she had found herself in John Seed's chair, teary eyes staring at him bathed in red hues, her blood becoming one with the room when he made true on his promises of immeasurable pain. Her hopeless screams filling the dead silence, drowning out his patient voice as the realization nobody would come for her sank in. She could still hear his sick reassurances how she had made the right choice by finally "saying Yes" after hours of torture, that the fact she had confessed her "sins" meant she was a step closer to his precious Eden. The twisted delight in his blue gaze still haunted her. The memory lingered just like the crude scar he had left he with. Seeing Hudson on screen anytime she turned on the TVs in the bar only reopened her old wounds. You're still standing. Free. Alive. The bar is open. He hasn't won. And never will. "Morning, Mary May. Should I come back then? Figured I could catch up with Cal before he runs off somewhere.", the apologetic tone and genuine smile were a quick reminder she wasn't facing the man that had made it his job to destroy everything she held dear. Not that she would ever actually confuse the two, but she had to admit the resemblance was quite jarring and she'd need time to get used to not wincing at the sight of his face.

"Ah, now, as the owner of this fine establishment, I can always make an exception, Detective. Anything to drink?" Leslie shook his head as he pulled out one of the chairs at the bar and sat down. "Still not at the stage where I'm morning drinking." "Stick around some more, and you'd get there, Les. It's a rite of passage for anyone settling down in the County ever since the Seeds came along.", Mary May retorted as she exited the kitchenette and slipped into her usual spot. Gary Fairgrave used to have those days where he'd throw back a glass of bourbon while cursing the Project to hell and back before heading off towards the bar after bidding her and her mother a goodbye. "I knew that family was rotten down to the root from the moment they got here. Shit smells like shit, no matter how much french perfume you spray on it.", it was what her old man used to say, taking pride in how his gut instinct had been right about the Seeds. Years later, she was the only one left from the Fairgraves to carry on his legacy and keep the deep-seated hate alive. Leslie gave her a sad smile, seeming at struggle with his own demons, "It all feels like a nightmare, yet my alarm for work is yet to ring and wake me up." A grimace pulled at her features, and her hands set back to straightening the pile of glass coasters at the bar, ignoring how many of them had Calahan's phone number on them, "Wish I could say things would get better…"

"Hope.", Leslie muttered with a strange look. "Hm?", she couldn't help her bitter laugh. "It's what we always have left. Hope. Sabrina would always tell me that. Tell it to any worried family we had to meet with." His words made her release a sigh, "You two are going to find her." Yet a part of her worried. That John had his claws deep into the bright-eyed Deputy. That Calahan was wrong about Sabrina's unwavering conviction. That maybe she had been a traitor all along, and all of them had just failed to see it. Whistling carried from the stairs accompanied by Calahan taking the steps quickly, and in record time, he was at Leslie's side. "My new partner returns.", he exclaimed in a greeting before playfully slapping his back and taking the seat next to him. "Come on, my boy.", Hartley reached down and picked up Zorro from the ground. "Chairs are for paying-" "-customers.", he finished her complaint as he set the raccoon down in one of the empty chairs, "Come on, gorgeous, how can you turn down such a cute face?" Mary May frowned at his puppy dog eyes and the fact they were working. A little. "Doesn't change the fact he's an animal." "A member of the Resistance. And… I was talking about myself." "You ain't cute, Rookie."

Leslie choked back a laugh as Calahan rubbed at his chest, groaning in pain for good measure, "One day, you're gonna realize what you're missing, gorgeous. And I won't be looking for payback for these insults. Too much." He sent a wink her way before clicking his tongue at Zorro in a signal, then turning to Leslie, "Shall we go then, partner? See what plans of John's we can sabotage?" The detective was the first to get up, followed by no other than Calahan's son on the way to the door. Hartley remained seated as he regarded her with a heated expression before leaning over the bar the same way he had earlier that morning and whispering, "I will see to locating what you need me to find. Try not to think about me too much while I'm gone." All she could seem to do was exhale and then involuntary inhale his scent while his baby blues stayed glued to hers. "Thank you for breakfast, by the way. I sure can get used to it." "You gonna start paying me rent, Rookie?", she finally managed to croak out, adding, "For two preferably." Calahan ignored her words and the fact he had someone waiting on him and observing the whole thing, "Can you feel this?" "Hmm?", she gave him a confused look, refusing to back away first and prove that he was getting to her. "How good we could be�� if only you weren't so damn stubborn." He moved back, finally putting space between them again and with another wink was gone. Mary May stared at the door, willing for the pesky longing to go away and refusing to admit how for a second, it felt like he had taken all the oxygen from the room with him.

Tagging @clicheantagonist @josephseedismyfather @socially-awkward-skeleton @thesingularityseries @detectivelokis @aceghosts @madparadoxum @chazz-anova @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @dumbassdep @shegetsburned @poisonedtruth @cassietrn @voidika @harmonyowl @v0idbuggy @strangefable @schoute @jacobsneed @strafethesesinners @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @nightwingshero @josephslittledeputy @euryalex @florbelles @neonneurons @simplegenius042 @vampireninjabunnies-blog and anyone with something to share ❤️

[self-spaghettification]

anyone else have a playlist of just a few songs that in the context of the dragon prince emotionally wrench them like a lot or just me 😃

[sailingmakai]

(( Haven't thought about Gorillaz in years man. Excited to maybe get around my horrible horrible anxiety to toss this multiversal kid at a famous singer he will 150% have no concept of in any fashion ))

[dougielombax]

I wonder what happened to all those clocks at the end of Control.

I mean the bureau had to dispose of them somehow.

Methinks the Board wouldn’t have been too happy to see them getting dumped in the Astral Plane.

I mean—

*FREQUENCY IS ABRUPTLY HIJACKED*

*distorted warbling and garbled radio noises*

The Board: <You fools/nincompoops/children>

The Board: <Please refrain/stop using the Astral Plane/Sky/White/Kitchen as a garbage dump/storage room/prison for the detritus/remains/carcasses of your rituals/dabblings>

The Board: <This is your first/final warning. Cease at once or there will be consequences/headache/massive trauma/popping balloons/smashing pumpkins>

[exigencism]

"Why, whatever do you mean? Magic works perfectly fine here! Just you watch-" Volo casts dancing lights-- right next to a Sussur bloom. "See?"

[airyairyaucontraire]

One thing that doesn’t make sense to me in For All Mankind season 4 is the apparent lack of any professional consequences for Ed following the whole Danny situation. He was the commander of the Helios mission, so doesn’t responsibility ultimately fall on him?

He selected Danny for the Mars mission based on nepotism, because he wanted to take care of his dead friends’ son, and when he had had a direct warning from Dani that Danny (jeez the decision to give two of the main characters these names) was off the wagon and unwell. An irresponsible decision right up front.

He knew, shortly before the drill catastrophe, that Danny was misusing amphetamines at least - he snarls at him that he’s seen a pilot on “go-pills” before - and his way of dealing with this was to give him a humiliating dressing-down in front of other people and then trust Danny to sort it out himself.

He didn’t take any of a number of very obvious steps like (1) relieving Danny of duties and confining him to quarters while he detoxed (2) searching those quarters and confiscating any pills he had stashed there (3) putting A FUCKING LOCK ON THE MEDICINE CABINET.

Why, then, are the deaths that Danny caused by choosing to ignore all the literal warning signs right in front of him (IT’S AS IF THERE’S A PARALLEL HERE) not also laid at Ed’s door? Why isn’t he shipped home in disgrace to face charges for his negligence? Even if space law doesn’t allow for that, why on Earth or any other planet would anyone ever trust Ed Baldwin to manage anything again?

[sunflowersandcherryblossoms]

It's quite amusing how the more I distance SennaRin's "Reaper" from the TYBW Arc, and conversely relate it to Byaichi, the more I like it.

I will still not watch that damn video...

[fishgirl514]

my dog is so slippy every time he tries to sit he scoots like 2 feet backwards on the wood floor

[gazspookiebear]

Well, I can see why! Do you work from 07:00-15:00 then? :o You don't need to answer this if it's too personal for you ^^ I like eating at work since that means I get to be away from the screen for some time!

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

(You know, I hope I can find a nicer OC ask game at some point! I think I need something nice after all this angst!)

Work times can vary, but that's usually about right

Betrayal: They haven't really been "betrayed" since they don't really trust anyone. In a way, they betrayed Sparrow by leaving her. She hasn't forgiven them, but she would do anything to see them again.

Ghost: Their first kill haunts them. It was self defense, and they were still young at the time, but nothing makes them feel better about it.

Guilt: They feel guilty whenever they have to kill someone, even though it's just last of their job. They try to convince themself that those were bad people, and that it's not their fault, but doubt still lingers in their mind.

[inafieldofdaisies]

49. nightfall for sabrina x john and/ or 31. breeze for cal x mary may

Prompt: Send me a number and I’ll write a micro story (3-10 sentences) with the word corresponding to it.

Calahan's eyes rose up from the fish he was cooking over the small campfire the second Zorro let out his usual chittering noise reserved for anytime he would sense a person approaching. Like clockwork, Mary May emerged from inbetween the trees, her blonde hair making her appear angelic in the setting sun, the light breeze caressing the golden strands like his hands yearned to. "Calahan?", his name snapped him out of his stupor as she came to a stop in front of him. "Yes?" "I knew it.", a triumphant expression swooped over her face, "You weren't responding because I called you Rookie." Sure, that was the reason, Angel. Hartley cleared his throat, saving the piece of fish just in time before it burned to a crisp, "Found your way quicker this time around." Mary May bumped his shoulder playfully as she sat down next to him on the log, "Says the man that left me with a map that looked drawn by a child, crayons included, you're lucky I somehow didn't end on the other side of the lake." "Blame the Peggie that carried a whole box of them, I simply make use of what I find, gorgeous."

By the time nightfall came and bathed his bedroom in darkness, John had lost track of how long he had spend pacing around the space that felt somehow smaller than usual. Patience. It's what he kept telling himself while he waited, listening for any sound in the quiet, anticipation coursing through his system. Two quick raps was all it took and he was on the move again, rising from his bed to meet Sabrina halfway as she pushed her way into the room. "Why are you sitting in the dark like-", was all she could get out before his mouth captured hers for a kiss and her back met the now closed door. A low laugh escaped her when he moved onto her neck, tracing a path down to her shoulder, "Someone's in a rush." "I was so close to tracking you down, Deputy."

[galewindstudios]

from the geoff hating on amp (but not really) comic: amp! amp no! that cigarette is way too close to your pit hair. back it up brother 07

Huh?

Oh SHOOT-

Bro you gotta be more careful!

~

Dumb shit indeed, Geoff. Thanks for the ask lmao