#apoloypse

[severussnapedamagedlove]

More Than A One Trick Pony - - - UPDATE

[Shane Walsh x OC] [AU] [Accidental Pregnancy] [Zombie Apocolypse] [Rick Grimes x Lori Grimes] [Vengeful Lori] [Jealous Lori] [Dedicated Shane] [Shane and Rick besties]

[angelpuns]

Just had a great idea for an animatic but my 1000 other projects are staring me down rn-

[missmonkeymode]

Damn elysium was right that hard really can mode. Everythings at like a 40% success rate for the stronger stats and i have like 50 cents in my pocket. Im dubbing this run a "fun run" where i pick the option that seems the funniest or will lead to something enjoyable. Been chanting "its a fun run" to myself as i fail white checks. Making this harry a self serving shithead instead of choosing the options i think would be best in the situation.

Major changes to the game from my inital rin are 1) got to the cuno quest prompt much quicker than my first run, 2) got the frittter bag day 1, 3) decided to become a hobo cop, and 4) unlocked the feminist thought alongside opting into the karaoke quest (which i originally said no to bc i didnt know what i was doing). Im enjoying the smart stats , theyre much more chatty this go around and im happy to learn what their whole deal is. I like how drama calls you sire, thats fun to me. And they unlocked a new quest for me to go on (interrogating liz)! This makes me curious for the physique stats since theyre gonna be quieter this run through alongside them being quieter last run through. I think my next go through will be a casual run, probably will play through either a boring moralist run or a apoloypse honor cop. Probably the latter bc i want to try a "normal guy" run where all the stats are 3 which would fit boring moralist pretty well.

*Sighs to myself as I open up disco elysium again* Anyone up for a round two liveblogging of this game

This will be tagged as #disco elysium lets play 2 so if you don't want to see it go block that for a week or two

[dontletthishappentoyou]

Predictions for 2100

• I will personally be dead. • Nobody will take my place, because that isn’t exactly a thing.  • Miami will not exist.  • No more zoos.  • Axolotls will be the next dogs, bred for bigger and better smiles for miles.  • Cows will run wild in the plains of the midwest. • Cows will starve to death all over the world.  • Nine new pandemics.  • Pizza Hut will definitely be out of business.  • Books made of paper will hold the same cultural place as wrist watches, but not the fancy ones.  • Two African countries will overtake the US in terms of world influence.  • Hollywood and Las Vegas hold the cultural significance of Venice and Vienna.  • Asia is just China now. We pretend it’s not a terrible thing, but a couple races get quietly erased. Big news for like three weeks, but then only fringe activists care, and most people will never learn how to pronounce the name of the peoples who are lost.  • Millenials will make old folks homes weird.  • People will stop talking about Jimmy Carter completely.  • Racism still a thing, but the focus will shift to something more international, instead of seeing it as a problem that exists within individual colonialist countries.  • People don’t buy stocks anymore, but they still sell them? Not sure how this one will play out.  • The position of ‘CEO’ will be lost to automation.  • Currency is now half-way between modern and crypto, but is taxed.  • Literacy up.  • The Friends theme song will be the national anthem of at least one country.  • This list will not be fact checked.  • People will go to Mars, and all of them will die.  • Digimon will make a comeback.  • A person will be brought back to life after over a month of being dead. It’ll be huge news, people will be like “whoa, this tech is going to be such a big influence on the next few generations” but that’ll somehow be it for a while.  • One event will resemble a zombie apoloypse, people from all over the world will storm that city with melee weapons, and the enthusiasm will make it a way bigger problem than it otherwise would have been. It’ll be like the area 51 thing, but a lot of people will die.  • There will be two new colors.  • That’s all. 

[commanderserwin]

Um yes ,,, the Apoloypse AU would be fantastic ,,,, honey bee ,,, please ,,,,

HNGGGHHHH AIGHT AIGHT ZOMBIE NATION LETS GOOOOOO

[azrealini]

These prepper types aren’t really trying to get ready for the apoloypse. They just want to feel like they have the biggest dick in the room. I

this may already be on tumblr but i laughed until i cried this morning so i thought i’d bless you all (source)

[francofogarty]

Zombie Apocolypse

I mean... Not likely to happen but I have my apoloypse plan... So.... Bring it on.

[jackydoe-blog1]

Baby It's Cold Outside

December is here. Today is a pretty big day for me. I'm helping my boyfriend get food stamps at the local DSS office, I'm caring for an emergency stray cat, and the Net Nutrality Bill will be voted on today. Lots going on, and it's 12° outside. Burr..

Times are getting tough and money is becoming scarce. I just paid rent, and filled my tank. I need to stretch my tank the entire week, and survive on the food we have. My med bills aren't getting a payment, not until we solve our financial crisis.

What happens if I need hormones, and I run out of money?... or the apoloypse...

-Jackydoe

[severussnapedamagedlove]

CHAPTER FOUR - MTA One Trick Pony. Update!

A hot heavy sun hung in the sky. It poured in through the open mesh of the blue and silver tent. Humidity already tainted the air as Laini rose from her cot. A sheen coated her skin. The pungency of her armpits soured her nostrils.

She should have taken that bath like Shane suggested.

Her body ached as she rose to standing. The pain sourced at the low end of her back.

The stupid cot was slumped in the center from many nights of two bodies cuddled together. It no longer supported them adequately to prevent mild soreness when they arose.

She tossed on one of Shane’s old high school football t-shirts over the soaked through bra. As bits of its outline made specks of dampness on the shirt, she opted for a freer style. The bra was thrown into the exiled corner – clothes in dire need of soaking and soap and maybe decontamination with a blow torch.

Silky shiny new pants taunted her with their intact store tags. They were stretchy. However, their material felt durable, thicker than usual stretch pants.

They were smooth against her legs as she pulled them up. The fabric clung to every curve of her frame. It tucked in the slight pudge at her belly with the taut hold of the waist band. All in all, they were leggings that paraded as hiking pants, with external cargo pockets and khaki color. It contrasted the black, moisture-wicking shirt of Shane’s which typically clung to his chest and arms that looked rather relaxed on her person. Baggy and billowed out in unflattering light.

She tied away the excess of the shirt, twisting and tucking it at the center of her bellybutton. Soft nubs of her nipples protruded the fabric.

Andrea said we couldn’t cling to the old-world thinking. Laini didn’t see why it couldn’t apply to women’s nipples, too.

The camp was busy with their chore list. Late morning scrambles. Shane’s green jeep was gone. It was used as a transport for water.

Lori was bent over the tub with her hands in water. Scrubbing away.

She caught a glance at Laini’s emergence from the tent. “We didn’t wait.”

Her nose wrinkled. The first voice she liked to hear in the morning was someone not so…Lori.

            “I didn’t ask you to,” she retorted as she brushed by Lori’s wash station.

A pair of gentle hands touched Laini’s arm with an even gentler voice. “Don’t worry. I saved some for you. It’s just in the pot there.”

The brunette bitch continued her glare. “If you sleep late, you have to do your own dishes.”

The bottom scraping of stew was the best part. It was full of the heavy bits. Loaded with the added vegetables and small shreds of meat. The serving spoon filled half up.

            “It’s a spoon and a bowl. I think I can manage.”

They were sure not to betray the intention of their words with a harsh tone. Lori knew how to hide her statements in the guise of an indifferent sound. It fooled most of them. Even Rick, at times. It only helped Laini’s mood to give the woman a small taste of her own condescending medicine in front of others so it was hidden in the same tone as Lori’s.

Carol and Sophia were near. Neither lifted their gaze to observe the actual cat fight. They were busy with their tasks, unbothered with the conversation, like it was discussion of the weather. Little Soph was able to do basic mending with a bit of thread and needle. Her hands held one of her mother’s shirts, just a small enough tear at the collar.

            “Are you sure? You don’t need Shane to hold your hand.” Lori snipped.

The sting of hot stew on her tongue forced her voice quiet. She swallowed the chunk of meat with great effort.

Smug pride toyed with Lori’s lips. Decidedly she thought she’d come out on top.

Feminism spoke to women supporting women. They were not competition or enemies to other women’s success. That was a product of patriarchy conditioned to their minds.

Feminism, of course, forgot to address how to respond to the ones who bought into the conditioning.

Laini was taught violence was a sound option when words were only doing a thumbtacks job when a sword was needed. But violence in and of itself was different in every form.

She did not need to eliminate Lori in her life; that would never happen. The only thing needed done was proof that Shane chose which place Lori was in, and it was dead last.

            “I only hold his hand to keep it from roaming.” She flashed a quick wink before she turned to Carol. “The man’s too bold to be trusted in the middle of camp.”

The woman gave a small laugh. Her cheeks flared red with a blush.

Her daughter beside her did not know what to think. She glanced upward at Carol with question. It had Carol’s cheeks flaring brighter. “When you’re older,” she told her.

There was a bit of life that peaked out time to time. Carol forgot to be scared. Her eyes ignited with a sparkle, like bits of her old self coming out to play.

Lori finished her scrubbing. She carried the tub out to the edge of camp to toss the dirty water into the grass.

            “Camp’s busy this morning,” Laini commented.

A strange rush sparked behind their heels.

Motions of Carol’s hands slowed as she, too, looked around. “Rick’s decided to go back to fetch Merle.”

The spoon went slack between Laini’s fingers. It clanked against the bowl’s bottom in a loud commotion.

            “They’re going back.” She shook her head in disbelief.

            “Daryl came back from his hunt early this morning,” Carol stated.

That statement needed no further explanation.

READ MORE AT the link below. :) Thanks so much for the support. I love Shane Walsh as a morally grey character. Thanks for letting me live through these fics a bit.

[c0nsonance]

[severussnapedamagedlove]

EWMN Updated!!! Chapter Two Posted!

Read fully at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14201814/1/EWMN

Read a little just below 

A strange man was at camp when Daryl and Eloise returned from an overnight hunt. He met them in the trees where a walker had devoured the prey they’d been tracking. He wore a uniform. Sheriff’s deputy. Sickly thin, clean shaved, sallow skin.

           “Who the fuck is this guy?” Daryl said.

Eloise stowed away her knives when they reentered camp.

The silence was tense, palpable on the tongue. A displacement in the air.

It all became clear in a flurry when the mention of his brother on the latest supply run to the city was pricked. He became visibly upset. Daryl asked if his brother was dead. A thought came to mind. There was no way a bastard cold as that attracted any walker to feast on him.

           “You chained my brother to a roof and you left him?”

Rage emerged in the remaining Dixon like a boiled-over pot: it kept coming.

Daryl would have fought the entire camp. Such anger. It only took a chokehold to subdue him.

There was no hesitation to reenter the city to retrieve his older brother. Merle Dixon, the man who’d pour salt in his own wounds just to laugh about the pain. He did not deserve left to dehydrate on top of the roof in a building filled with the roaming dead. It was questionable whether he deserved a first-class rescue mission with the strongest in the group though.

They were virtually left with a few strong abled bodied fighters to protect a herd of walker food. Children being an easy target, an assumed desire for the infected to feast upon.

Rick, the new deputy, was the husband of Lori, partner to Shane, father to the little boy in camp named Carl. He was the man they missed.

Eloise grimaced as the man took his wife in his arms with the knowledge of what his wife had been up to since they parted. There was no give in acknowledgment in the awkward position it put the rest of the camp in. The affair between his partner and wife was either missed or ignored.

The deliberations of whether it was right and wrong were taxing, and lengthy, for a man who was faced with the possibility of being an only child at the group abandonment of his brother.

Daryl excitedly blared the horn. His fist pounded against the wheel.

           “Let’s go,” he shouted. His voice carried its anger.

All of the rescue team neared the edge. Glenn had his backpack tight against his spine. He climbed up the bumper into the back of the transport van. Rick and T-Dog heaved their guilty conscious’ over the side as they loaded up.

The large firearm at Rick’s side set a thick tension through Eloise. A revolver, none the less.

Sound attracted more than just the dead. It attracted the living, too.

She handed up the last two arrows that were forgotten inside the deer at the news of Merle.

Daryl gave no attempt at a goodbye. Neither did she.

It was too awkward. The eyes of the camp on them as they interacted. Each time their eyes met, a focus of everyone else found interest in the coming and goings of her and Daryl. No matter the double of food brought in from the hunt, attentions were captured easier with a silent glance in the general direction.

The few days in camp were more like time spent in a small town than she thought possible since the start. Gossip swam through. Drama, always instilled within.

Merle had behaved like a jealous child since her arrival. He vied for his brother’s attentions like there was a competition for it, in a time where there was nothing to do but be present. The distractions were very few.

She, of course, resented the assumption of their bond going beyond that of being friendly. They hunted. Their days were spent doing what they could for their camp. It was not because they yearned for privacy.

Gone were the times that such beliefs could be given stock. Survival was not romantic. There was no appeal to it. Attachments were liabilities. Neither of them could afford a thing.

Doors slammed closed. The cube van loaded. A single boy on the very edge of camp, onlooking at the departure of the father he believed dead, like all the life had drained from his soul as his father left him again. A forlorn woman stood beside him. The similar shade of heartbreak tainted her eyes.

It was a lonely drive down the winding road. Eloise followed the path of the van down the side. Her eyes went to the city in the distance. Sickness churned inside. A wet slob of salvia gathered in her mouth. She spat it out.

           “I hate watching them leave,” a soft voice said at her side.

Eloise froze.

           “It feels like a funeral procession. A one-way road.”

The young woman was named Amy. Her face held the innocence of youth that was clear through her lack of wrinkles and bright eyes. Much had been shielded from those blue sapphires. Vibrance like that was not possible with what they had to do to survive unless a great deal was left unsaid.

           “There is no two-way road.” Eloise sighed as she stepped away from the hillside edge. “Not anymore.”

Amy kept her eyes over the edge a moment longer. “Do you think it’ll ever come back? The way it felt before when someone left. The assumption they’d be just fine, never thinking a thing else was possible.”

The glint in those blue eyes pierced through the hardened exterior, the girlish hope, a child-like want, the weight of impossibility lessened with the added want to keep that feeling alive.

           “One day. Maybe.”

It earned a soft smile. They stood on that lonely perch above the heights for a moment longer. Neither wanted to tear away. As long as they saw the van, everyone remained safe. Once it left sight, their lives were in limbo.

Amy sighed as she wiped the desperation from her cheeks. “I’ve got to get back to the kids,” she breathed. “They’ve got to work on some of their reading skills. Do you…I mean, would you want to help?”

A dense moisture collected in her palms. Eloise dragged them down the length of her thighs.

           “They just read some passages from the books.” Amy walked away, pausing in wait for Eloise, to a shaded table beneath a hickory tree. There sat four even younger, fresher faces with brighter eyes. “We only have a few so we have to switch between them.”

Carl and Louis. They looked up. Boyish features with dark hair.

Eloise staggered a step backward. So close, so real. A life in a camp just as this, still innocent as they were before, puffy and childish, naivety alive in their expression.

           “I think I’ll haul some firewood.”

Read the rest at the link above! Be sure to leave likes, comments, reviews and follows to keep updated on the story. THANKS FOR ALL THE VIEWS. I appreciate the love.