#augh my poor boy.......

[wereh0gz]

Oh no he's getting worse

[morrigan-sims]

And I forget sometimes I'm just flesh and bone.

As he stands in the ruined bathroom, all Rook can think is, At least now I can breathe.

[cherrytraveller]

the smoke in my lungs the fire on my tongue spirits make me warm when my heart is not enough.

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[memento-morri-writes]

More dnd writing because it's all I have but I here's a snippet from a vignette I did of Rook's past (from Zara's POV), because Rook and his mentors never fails to make me sick (/pos).

[transcript under the cut]

Taking a coin out of her pocket, she rolled it across her knuckles, back and forth. It gave her hands something to do, and prevented the urge to bite her nails, something she hadn’t done in years. Ten minutes passed, then twenty. Zara began to pace as Rook’s breathing grew shakier and the color drained from his skin. Where the hells is Jay? she wondered. The room was so quiet that she could hear every tick of the small clock on her bedside table, and each one echoed in her head. How many ticks does he have left? She didn’t want to think about it.  She’d had crew members die before, of course. You don’t go as many years as a captain as she had and never lose a soul. But all the others who had died had died quickly, in combat. She’d mourned for all of them, even shed tears in private, but there was something different about watching the life drain out of a person right in front of your eyes.

[greasydumbfuck]

the holy trinity of frank castle character traits. to me

[grimvisionary]

i may be picking skeleton, but i can't pass up the reference for my boy.....

[pepper-steam-milkshake]

finished the third dolls of new albion opera

words cannot describe the reaction i had just purely because that was so fucking wild?????? so, just to be clear-- priscilla was constance????????

also poor fucking connor????????? AND LEE???????????

like i know the operas are far from happy but JESUS CHRIST

[dazzlerazz]

Hands you a box of tissues 🥲

Thanks man, thanks

[whis--ker]

Just started reading IDW Sonic finally oh my god metal virus saga

[clover-the-awesomest]

…

Don't you, Emily?

(Hiding from God in her head)

[thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls]

I’m watching Boy Swallows Universe with my dad rn and uhhh *cut to me sobbing in a corner oh my god*

[heartfullofleeches]

augh,,, fletcher and his foxboy malewife have given me brain worms, i love both of them so much,,,, , how does the town adjust to fletcher's new spouse?

The town is cautious of outsiders, even moreso of predator hybrids. The only way they're accepted/allowed is if they pull their own weight - or if they're married/close to to a trustworthy person in the town who can vouch for them. Fletcher is one of most valued members of the community considering it's his farm that keeps majority of them fed so when he tell the whole story to friends and family about how his wife was just a poor, starving fox who needed a helping hand and a loving heart they welcome Fox Reader.

There are still those who despise Fox Reader reader for their thieving ways, but they never dare to vocalize their issues. Both because Fletcher is the farmer, and because he can get pretty scary when he's upset. The sheriff is the only one who's allowed to run his mouth when Fetch is around because the sheriff raised him and is known for his "tough love."

Fletcher doesn't want his wife to lift a fiber around the house, but he does teach Fox boy a few dessert recipes he knows are a hit around town and has them past the treats to neighbors to further thin out any bad blood.

-

"One carrot pudding, please."

Picking up one of the readily made serving cups from your tray, you grab next a plastic spoon and a napkin - passing it all off to the hare before you. "One carrot pudding! Sorry about trampling your flowers that one time...."

Beats of sweat pour down your face - tenderly dabbed away by your attentive husband and that old rag he carries around in his pocket. "Good boy.. We're making wonderful progress. Can ya believe my sweetheart did all this baking by themselves?"

His claims had some merit. The stray glares within the crowd liquified the second those still wary of you had a bite of the peace offerings you had whipped up. It was hard to be afraid you with such a large rabbit keeping a close eye on you, but they still had their suspicions. If this keeps up, you'll be a welcomed member of the community in no time.

"Mm... I'll say - might want to keep an eye on that wife of yours. I could use someone around my place who can baking as good as you, Fetch."

A joke, clearly - but someone doesn't seem to get the memo.

Your husband's eyes narrow, a protective arm flying around your shoulders. 'Get the fuck off our property before I have you carried out in a body bag."

[mediumgayitalian]

prev

———

She brushes another kiss to his hidden face and settles against the car door, holding him. She thinks for a moment and decides on something old, a tune she heard on the radio once upon a time and never heard again; she’s warped it, now, no doubt about it, humming it from memory so long it’s changed to whatever she has made it. But Will recognises it from years of lullabies, picking up on the swooping baritones and mumbling the words into her shoulder.

“You know, that Han Solo shrine up in your room makes a lot more sense, now that I think about it.”

The melody dies in his throat.

“Mama.”

“I’m just saying.” She bites back a smirk, swatting away his smacking hands. “There was a point in time I thought it was admiration, you know, but you have a lot of posters of that open vest —”

“Mama!”

She acquiesces, this time, never having seen his poor face so scarlet, trying and failing to keep her laughter to herself. The tear tracks have long since dried and his breathing is steady, now, gangly limbs tucked into her ribs and hanging off the bend of her thigh. Flopped all over her like he used to to when he was young and she was still touring, when the world was too loud and too bright and too mean and she hid him from the sun. Her hands in his hair are to touch instead of soothe.

“Who’s the boy?”

“No.”

“C’mon, babydoll.” She pokes at his ribs, grinning widely when he rolls his eyes to hide his smile. “Tell me.”

“It’s nobody, Ma, gods.”

“Yeah, right. Not like you were comparing having a crush to killing someone in cold blood twenty minutes ago. Clearly it’s somebody.”

He, very pointedly, doesn’t answer.

Unfortunately, he forgets that he gets his stubborn from her.

“Hm. Can’t be anyone I haven’t heard of in a few weeks, or else it wouldn’t be bothering you. What names have you mentioned?”

He looks at her in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

Absolutely, she would. Her smile widens.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it ain’t Chiron, ‘cause then I’d have questions —”

“Oh my gods! Stop!”

“— an’ I doubt it’s that security fellow, with the eyes, although if it is no judgement —”

“I’m throwing myself out of this car! Right now! I’m gonna lay on the road ‘til someone hits me!”

“— Lord, you don’t mention many names. You’re a recluse, baby. You gotta make more than two friends.”

She stills. Will, perhaps guessing where she is going, makes a noise of deep, personal agony.

“Oh my stars, is it Cecil?”

“Ew, Ma!”

He strains against her hold but she tightens, hooking her elbow around his shoulders and flexing her other hand, pretending to examine her nails.

“It is, isn’t it? I mean, he is a very handsome young man. And he has a good heart, too, despite the — how to put it — distaste for the law —”

“I just threw up in my mouth! Right now! Stop it!”

“I should probably stop letting him stay in your room when he stays over, huh, that one’s on me —”

He wrenches himself away from her, finally, clambering over the seats and gagging like the mere idea makes him nauseous.

“Ew! Ew! I do not have a thing for Cecil, oh my gods, I might as well marry my cousin! Augh! I’m gonna throw up for real! Why would you even say that, oh my —”

“Alright, alright!” she laughs, kicking his rapidly repeating shoulder. “Holy Jesus, you are dramatic. I should call up camp and tell him you’re out here retchin’ at the mere thought.”

“Good,” Will says darkly, voice muffled from how deeply his head is buried in his hands, “make sure to also tell him he is a weasel.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And that I am going to deface his vintage Hot Wheels collection.”

“Y’all have a strange friendship.”

“He’s not my friend, I am stuck with him via circumstance and because he refuses to leave me alone.”

She holds up her hands in surrender, refraining from pointing out the friendship bracelet he is currently wearing with a CM on it and that has not left his wrist in four years.

“Alright, alright. Not Cecil.”

He scoffs in agreement, ignoring her rolled eyes.

She wracks her brain for other boys he’s brought up in their phone calls, aside from people in passing. Mostly he mentions patients, really, answering her endless inquiries — it will never stop astounding her that he baby can practically sew heads back on bodies; she tells people he’s in med school and preens at their wide, impressed eyes — but there are other people he mentions, in between that and the pranks he’s frequently pulling with his friends.

“There was that boy you were so excited to keep around. Nick?”

“His name is Nico,” he corrects, and then immediately goes scarlet. “I — I mean, I have a friend, named Nico, not that —”

Her grin gets sharp as nails.

“He is — unwell! He’s travelled a lot, he needs monitoring so I am — monitoring him, you know, out of concern for his safety —”

“Nico and Wi-ill, sitting in a tree —”

“Oh my gods are you five —”

“You are steaming! I can actually feel the heat pouring off of you right now! You love him, you want to kiss him, you —”

“I am never telling you anything again in my entire life!” he hollers. “Never! Next time I think I should tell you something I’m just gonna — swallow glass!”

She snickers. “Drama queen.”

He sticks out his tongue as she situates herself back in her own seat, turning the keys in the engine. His puts his dirty converse on the dash despite her grouching, reaching over to fight her for control of the radio, flapping his hand excitedly when she lets him win and something bright and overdone starts playing. His bandage stays where it is, tied loosely around his wrist.

“I’m glad you told me, you know.”

He smiles, small and genuine, leaning into the palm she cups around his cheek. The dimple in the centre of his right cheek is back, the scrunch of his freckled nose. She presses a lingering kiss smack dab in the centre of his forehead and he leans into it, trusting.

“I know.”

[clover-the-awesomest]

...

I cant think of any memes.

pt. 1 | Next ep.

[another-delta-lover]

Hello!!! :D welcome to my blog!!

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[moths-and-crows]

when paul was shot... it was..... augh.... he was like a dying animal. i mean he was a dying animal but like. fucking. he was an asshole sure but also oh my god poor boy