#extra bonus points for being a dramatic little bitch too

[jpegcompressor]

the real reason i don't kin is because it's all the same guy copy and pasted over and over

[stormbreaker101]

I am feeling cruel and bored so. Ranking my companions’ death animations

In the order my companions are in on the companion tab.

I have 20 companions so it’ll all be under the cut :)

1) El Toro: He just sorta. Collapses. He does a weird spin that looks like it’d break his ankles if he does it too much. Not quite dramatic enough for my tastes. You could do way better, Toro. 3/10

2) Fan Flanders: She drops her blades, grasps at her heart, coughs/chokes, and falls over. It’s like she’s having a heart attack. Simple, but quite dramatic, especially given the little spin as she falls. 8/10

3) Bonnie Anne: She stumbles. She tries to stand up using her gun. She falls to her hands and knees. She tries one last time before falling unconscious. I admire the determination! It makes the end all the more tragic. 10/10

4) Subodai: His hand goes to his chest. He stares at his hand as though it were bloodied. There is a pause. He falls flat. 9/10, loses a point because every other Horse Bucc in Mooshu has the same dying animation.

5) Sarah Steele: She falls to one knee then onto her side. A bit plain IMO. 3/10

6) Old Scratch: His head spins around on his neck before his entire body falls limp. Kinda humorous, but not my kind of funny. 8/10

7) Gracie Conrad: She falls onto her knees. Her neck and back hang limp before she falls. She makes a particularly pathetic sound that plucks at the heartstrings. Big sadge. 7/10

8) Ratbeard: Old man has a dramatic heart attack, shouts in old man agony, and flops onto the floor dead. So fucking extra. So fucking funny. 12/10

9) Milo Graytail: He grasps at his stomach and curls up like he’s got himself a debilitating stomach bug. Or like he’s been stabbed in his gut. Extra points for how pathetic he looks. 9/10

10) Catbeard: Ratbeard’s death but make it gayer. His sword flies in the air and he twirls in the air before falling from his own heart attack. 13/10

11) Contessa Argento: She drops her swords, and holds one hand up to her throat. Her eyes have already shut before she hits the ground. Quite elegant, strangely. 7/10

12) Buffalo Bill: His rifle goes first. He brings his hat to his chest, but as he falls his hat-holding hand falls to his side. 6/10

13) Froggo Villa: He grasps at his bleeding torso before quickly falling limp on his stomach. Quick and to the point, just like his personality. 7/10

14) Lt Springer: His sword falls from his hand. He slumps, turning away from the enemy that killed him, but doesn’t fall on the floor. How the hell do you die without falling on the floor. 1/10

15) Monquistador Veteran: He leans on his oversized halberd for support as he coughs the life outta him. One point docked for being used by all Monquistan Bucc enemies and all Monquistan enemies in Wizard101. 6/10

16) Crazy Monquistador: The enemy’s killing blow hits him so hard that he doesn’t just fall, he FLOPS onto his back. His head hits the ground first. If the enemy’s killing blow didn’t kill him, his head striking the ground will. 10/10 for being thorough.

17) Chicken Miner: He ragdolls to the side, clutching his pickaxe to the very end. Bonus points for sad chicken noises. 7/10

18) Monkey King: He places his quarterstaff down. He stands up straight, one hand in a fist and the other cupping it. He gives the enemy a respectful bow as he walks away. He doesn’t even fucking die. Bitch. I know the lore makes sense but I want him to DIE. 0/10

19) Hawkules: His club falls from his grip. he holds his beak as though it were the part wounded most. He flops over, dead. Basic, but with his own special quirks like not grasping at his torso instead. 5/10

20) Mustang Sally: She grasps at her bleeding side, then makes the mistake of letting go. She stumbles, the blood loss waning her strength, before she falls onto her side. Not bad for a character I disagree with on a fundamental level. 7/10

21) the Pirate themself bc why the fuck not: You stand there and your head rolls. A relic from Wizard101 that makes no sense in the context of Pirate101. In W101 all the combat is magical. It isn’t real wounds with real weapons and real blood. Makes sense that once your HP goes to 0, you’re stunned loopy. In Pirate101, there’s real weaponry. Real gore. The Pirate should at least collapse. 0/10

[motherraid]

hewwo bestie do u have any thoughts abt pucci 👉🏾👈🏾 doesn't matter if its for an au or not im just horny for priest pp

-🌈Bisky

Ahahaaaaaaa that moment you accidentally close your ask response and didn't sAve it ahahA-

Fuck it fuck those hcs I'm gonna make something completely different

Pucci x reader (Farmhybrid!Au)

Oh, no. You're not an animal here.

You're actually Pucci's help!

He seemed kinda nonchalant about a lot of stuff, but I swear he's just like that.

When you first came to work, he thought practically nothing of you and barely spoke to you unless he needed something.

Man is the definition of rbf so it wasn't hard to think he hated you the way he scowled at you unintentionally.

Pucci is also weird in the sense of he doesn't have to raise his voice to make someone feel like a piece of shit. He's smart. He knows how to rip someone apart someone without being extra.

If you fucked up at something in the beginning, he wouldn't shout. He'd make you feel AWFUL for it, but he wouldn't shout at you.

Since he likes you now, if you fuck up, he won't be AS harsh as he was before. He'd still chastise you, but not as intensely.

He like... Counts in primes a while before he starts to tear into you, too?

He's made a giant change from then to now so be grateful.

I'm surprised you grew on him cause how the fuck-

Now you two have been an unspoken duo for a while.

He needs help with anything, you're on it. Same for you.

He's helped you with a lot of the bigger animals that are harder to control, since he has more experience on the farm than you.

He really didn't have much belief in you from the very start, sorry not sorry. This man judged you head to toe.

Only reason he'd let you hang around him is because you're not AS annoying as everything else.

At least you understood quiet, and knew how to hold an actual conversation. It was refreshing.

Well, he SAYS stuff like that, but we know it's cause he "wuuuvs" you.

He's a LOT more tolerant of things that happen on the farm, now.

There's a fight? Get the first aid kit. He'll find some way to break it up. He always does.

Someone broke something? Fucking shit. Maybe you two can fix it yourselves instead of blowing out all your money.

This man will NEVER let you deal with a problem alone. It's kind of annoying sometimes, but you manage.

Most days you two spend a lot of time talking with each other.

Doesn't matter what type of work you have, you two were nearly always synchronizing your lunch breaks somehow.

Suspicious.

But hey! He gives you breakfast in the mornings, so it's only fair you make his lunch a little better with your company.

Just keep your dirty fast food away from his salad. He doesn't want that greasy shit in his way.

Man practically barfs whenever you come in with a fast food bag.

You two bicker CONSTANTLY.

It's nearly always back and forth. It gives everyone else a headache.

It's play-fighting, but it happens so often the others don't CARE if you're joking. Just stfu and feed the damn horses you goddamn menaces oh my god.

And since Pucci looks so serious most of the time (even when happy), it just makes it look as if you're actually arguing, anyways.

He's also ROHAN levels of dramatic if you hurt yourself.

Bonus points if you're trying to hide it from him.

Poor thing would act so hurt if he doesn't spoil you pls let him- pls-

He will put on a whole 5 act play if you won't let him take care of you.

Seriously, though. He's very glad he has you to help out. Despite the constant arguing and smothering, you're a really nice person to be around.

Who knows. Maybe someday he'll grow the balls to ask you if you wanted to spent time with him OUTSIDE of work.

Overall? FUCKIGN PUCCI IS A BITCH. But you work through it.

UGH FINALLY-

[acemapleeh]

Romano for the character meme?

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them: God he's just- he's very likable in the weirdest way. His entire attitude mixed with his style is just good shit. I also think his expressions just stand out a lot to me. When he feels something, he feels those emotions and it's a whirlwind. He's a dramatic bitch and I love it. He's also my fiancé's favorite character sooooo- he gets some bonus love points.

least favorite thing about them: I don't like we never see Grandpa Rome give him any attention or love. Lovino deserves love goddamnit. Like the man feels like he's in his little brother's shadow and people think he's careless and an idiot and he doesn't like being yelled at and fucking hell. I also really don't think he's as lazy as he's depicted. Like, he's got this long history with agriculture and I think he's a fucking hard worker and is very skilled at a lot of practical things. He's good at art, music, gardening, and cooking and he's passionate about it but we never see it >:(

favorite line: "This weatherman is predicting a 99% chance of shitstorm and it’s coming right at you!" It's a classic okay.

brOTP: Feliciano is too obvious. *sweats nervously* A-Alfred friendship nice.

OTP: I'm a simple bitch, love me Spamano

nOTP: I guess don't ship him with his brother? I feel like I'm saying this a lot. Um, I guess I don't 100% vibe with him and Prussia as a romantic thing.

random headcanon: He can drive well but not in the way you want him to. Let's say you need a quick getaway or he's running extra late for a date or something, this man can perfectly weave through traffic, find shortcuts cause he knows these cities like the back of his hand, and is not afraid to run lights and cut people off. He won't do anything too risky that puts his car's looks at risk. Gotta keep it looking sharp and scratch-free.

unpopular opinion: He can be a disaster child if he wants to be just don't make him lazy.

song i associate with them: Bella Ciao by Modena City Ramblers, Lonely Dance by Set It Off, Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? by The Arctic Monkeys

favorite picture of them:

[aceofspadegrass]

Good Old Drama and Gossip

Characters: Hatter, Niragi Suguru, Morizono Aguni (Mentioned), Chishiya Shuntaro (mentioned), Last Boss (Briefly Mentioned), and me

Genre: Crack. This time it's just blind!Niragi being fussy and me stealing Aguni in the background

1.5k words

Part 3 of being a little shit to Hatter and getting away with it. But hey, at least there's the added bonus of Niragi being dramatic while being able to see nothing. A shame I didn't arm him with a cane and let him smack people.

Hatter was going to get them this time, he swears on it. It’s been more than a week since they last struck, and as far as he knew, there was not a single invasion into his Beach. He was always on alert, just in case something happened. It didn’t get in the way of his primary duty to his people, but the thought never left him to make sure everything he owned was in place.

Checking for any of the other’s stuff wasn’t anything Hatter worried about, thankfully. For some odd reason he could only interpret as ‘being too handsome and irresistible for his own good’ only his stuff was ever snatched like a cookie in the elusive cookie jar. He didn’t want to develop more stress lines making sure his men were okay in their personal possessions. Wrinkles shall only come to accentuate him, make him look good, not just tired and old.

That privilege can go to Aguni.

The man in question was at the very least rocking it, made him look fierce. Hatter could appreciate that in him, and it makes his job easier in subduing the more…. rambunctious of their group.

In fact, one of Aguni’s more problematic men, Niragi, had come back to a game with bad eye issues, even more worse than the appointed med staff could figure out. Apparently the game the oversaturated oil stain was in broke his eyes to the point where he couldn’t use them for a good while. In short, Niragi was left completely blind, and Aguni now had to deal with an increasingly whiny and temper hearty baked bean burrito. Hatter found it funny, but oh boy was it wearing out his poor fried dumpling.

It also left quite a hole in the defense for the intruders, so the issue of Aguni and Niragi was also an issue for the safety of the Beach (and Hatter’s stuff) as a whole.

No point thinking about this now. Hatter leans back on the sofa, sipping at a cold blend of juices and relaxing. His feet were killing him right about now, Hatter flexing his stiff toes and internally begging for a good pedicure to fly in through the doors and give his feet a touch of heaven and bliss.

The door in fact does fly open as the thought passes his head, Hatter sitting up and raising an eyebrow as Niragi stands there, breathing heavily. The sunglasses Hatter has so graciously offered to him in order to make him both sexier and protect his eyes from the sunlight so he didn’t permanently damage them further was slipping slightly off his face, Niragi fixing them after a few more pants.

“ You…..! You fucking coconut slut!” Niragi rasps out, and Hatter quirks his eyebrow in mild amusement, leaning forward and sipping his juice quietly as one arm rested on his knee. Niragi points a finger in Hatter’s direction, if Hatter was 45 degrees to the left and standing. “ You fucking left me tied on that bed for an hour! What fucking gives!”

Hatter says nothing, as Niragi storms in….. and immediately slams into the back of the other couch, Hatter bursting into laughter. Niragi on the other hand starts spouting obscenities and kicks the couch, and the red cocktail man notices the lack of real gun in Niragi’s possession, other than the super soaker that was substituted. Aguni probably replaced it, knowing that a blind trigger happy man was a danger to society and himself.

“ What the fuck is this bull?! What- Oh for fucks sakes this isn’t Chishiya’s room is it.” Niragi finally sputters out, grabbing the top edge of the couch and massaging the soft cushions underneath his long fingers.

“ Oh, I wish I was. Now what was this about being tied to a bed, hm?” Hatter croons, which earns him a hearty middle finger.

“ Like heck am I about to tell you. Okay, let’s try this again-“ Niragi turns around, but Hatter whistles at him, Niragi slowly spinning back around to face Hatter’s general position. “ What is it, I don’t have all day lobster man.”

“ Aww, not even a minute? Well, it’s just a question. Aren’t you supposed to be accompanied until you regain your senses? After all, you have nothing to guide your way.”

“ Fuck that, I don’t know where Last Boss went and he won’t fucking speak up if he’s just been following me like a sneaky little bitch this entire time, and Aguni was called away for something!”

“ Oh?” Hatter leans back again, Niragi throwing his arms up in the air as he starts pacing and nearly running into stuff again.

“ Yeah! So then that tiny mozzarella cheese ball came and said he’d help because I just look sad and stupid wandering around by myself, which I don’t believe because I know he’d push me into the pool the first chance he got, and then suddenly I’m tied to a bed as he puts on a podcast of nothing but some random guy talking about wool! It was hell!”

“ Oooh, I see. How bad was it?”

“ Fucking terrible! I did not need a wool lecture, thank you very little! Who the fuck wants to know the fastest record to shear a sheep was 39 seconds!? Not me, that’s for fucking sure!” Niragi rants, Hatter nodding and grinning as he switches his juice out for the good wine he kept by his foot the entire time, pouring himself a decent amount and taking a slow sip as Niragi continued to rant onwards. At some point Niragi managed to find the couch again (because he stubbed his toe into it, leading to an extra twenty seconds of Niragi cursing out Hatter’s poor couch) and sat down, Hatter pushing a wine glass into Niragi’s hand and filling it. Niragi downed it like he was a war orphan waiting for his arm to be donated to the war effort, Hatter lightly tsking him for not savouring it properly.

It wasn’t Aguni or any of the girls, but Hatter could appreciate the gossip as Niragi continued without a filter in his mouth, the rant going from Chishiya’s wool podcast to anything else Niragi had heard in his blind boredom. He was impressed how much information Niragi was willing to dole out just to get his anger settled for the rest of the day, and Hatter was happily sipping away as he absorbed it all.

Finally Niragi had calmed down, just nursing the wine glass that Hatter just filled with chocolate cereal instead, as Niragi refused to drink his wine like it was good wine. It was a shame really, Hatter liked hearing about Niragi’s auditory bubble day.

“ Well wasn’t that cathartic!” Hatter chirped as Niragi mumbled around his glass of chocolate cereal, draped over the entire couch as if he wanted to become the couch lord. Or wanting to be painted like the best model in the world, whatever he wanted.

“ Yeah yeah, whatever.” Niragi tips cereal into his mouth just as the crackle of his walkie-talkie alerts him and Hatter. Niragi doesn’t bother to remove the device from his side, too busy eating his cereal as a voice comes through.

And oh boy, what a voice it was, Hatter tuning into it immediately.

“ ….. Testing, testing! Are you hearing me? Hi hi, it’s me, your local menace~ The one with the robe, remember me? Yeah! Hi, don’t mind me, okay? I’m just gonna….. borrow Mr. Beef Stew with extra beef for a few hours! For personal, very important reasons and definitely not because I got a replica statue of a cute dog stuck in a window and now I can’t get it out. Anyways, bye!” The rest becomes static as it disconnects, Niragi snorting a little as Hatter takes one deep breath.

“ Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Niragi, hand it over to me.”

“ You’re not my boss.” “ Yes, but I’m Aguni’s, so hand it over.”

Niragi grumbles, unclipping the walkie-talkie and tossing it in Hatter’s general direction, Hatter humming and pressing the button on the side.

“ Hello? Are you still there, you rascal?” Hatter leans in, pouring as much honey into his voice to lure them out.

“… Yep, still here! Hi, didn’t think you’d be there too Hatter.” “ Oh, I’m here, and I would like to kindly know where you and your little friends are. As a little house visit~” There was a chuckle on the other end. “ Oh, sorry sorry, but I can’t. We can always come over and visit though, even if it’s for a brief moment!” “ Is that so…. Well, you wound me so, you know!” Hatter puts a hand on his chest. “ For you to not even offer me the same respect, ah it hits me right here that you can’t even trust me~”

“ Sorry! Anyways, gotta go, got things to do, got stuff to move with Aguni, who was nice enough to help us.”

“ At your base? Well, what’s stopping me from asking him for directions later for a surprise visit one of these days, maybe have a meet and greet with my beloved stolen items?”

“ Not anywhere near our base, we’re not that dumb my dear red bean paste~ Don’t worry, we’ll return your man in….. 3-5 business days maybe okay byeeeeeeeee-“ The line goes completely dead, and Hatter stares at the black box.

Those cursed beings, they’ve gone too far. Too far.

[boasamishipper]

tom cruise characters hair rates

Lestat de Lioncourt (Interview with the Vampire)

dramatic gay bitch with the long blonde curls to match. somehow has great hair even when he’s on fire or a depressed corpse in a basement, but apparently more than two hundred years of immortality have not inspired him to try out more than two (2) hairstyles. where are the pigtails. where are the braids. where is the lestat with the emo man bun that we deserve. 6.66/10 for wasted potential.

Joel Goodson (Risky Business)

his hair’s dorky but cute, which matches joel’s personality to a t. manages to go from a side part to a center part to a side part (somehow) over the course of the film and each variation looks equally nice. every strand of hair is always in place, no matter the situation, which - what is your secret, joel. what haircare products do you use? bonus points for being the only tom character with legit bangs. go originality. 7.5/10.

Maverick Mitchell (Top Gun)

ah, mav. major points right off the bat for having a hairstyle that is actually regulation (i love you ice but frosted tips in the navy??? how did you not get written up for that??? what is your secret???). LOVE the hint of floof potential though i wish you wouldn’t try and hide it with the hair gel or the helmet. embrace the floof mav. 10/7 (this rating is inverted).

Brian Flanagan (Cocktail)

now THIS is what i call good hair!!! the bounce! the shine! the floof! the swoop! the WAVES! even disheveled the floof is maintained. somehow his hair still looks good even when food gets dumped on top of it. (*damian from mean girls voice* that’s why his hair is so big; it’s full of bad poetry.) incredible perfect stupendous. every tom character needs to get on brian’s level. 10/10.

Cole Trickle (Days of Thunder)

okay look i know i said i loved brian’s hair the best bc of sheer floof factor (i may have a slight bias) but look at cole’s hair. look at that floof. that is honest, earnest, windswept floof. perfect to run your fingers through, as i’m sure claire can attest. unfortunately the floof starts to fizzle when dealt with sad news or injury or crushed under a helmet, but c’est la vie. only complaint is that his hair at that weird length where it’s too long to maintain easily and too short to put into a ponytail - but it is the perfect length for a flower crown, so. 9/10.

Charlie Babbitt (Rain Man)

pretentious yuppie hairstyle for a pretentious yuppie boy. his hair starts getting some bounce and floof with every feeling he experiences - so far the record to beat is one (1) feeling - but not enough and not fast enough. get him out of my sight. 2/10.

Danny Kaffee (A Few Good Men)

coiffed, well-maintained, professional and fully adhering to regulations - none of which fits danny necessarily, but the hair works. nice and neat, just a hint of bounce. great side part. love the color. not a fan of the attempt at bangs. save that for joel, danny. and get your fingers out of your mouth. 6/10.

Jerry Maguire (Jerry Maguire)

not as bad as charlie babbitt, but still pretty pretentious. little too much hair gel at times. good bounce, frames the face pretty nicely. switches from a side part to a center part depending on the stress level. seems to be going for that rumpled casual look which does not at all come off as rumpled and casual. the more stress, the more unkempt the hair becomes (and the more strands start peeking out). consensus? the man needs a good night’s rest and a better hair care routine (and definitely therapy). help me help you, jerry. 3/10.

Ray Ferrier (War of the Worlds)

starts out short and neat and gets progressively dirtier and messier as the story goes on - which, you know. alien invasion, fleeing your home, running for your life. that’s legit. wash the blood and grit out of your hair, get a good night’s rest. maybe just stick with the baseball cap? you do you, ray. 5/10.

Roy Miller (Knight and Day)

soft sunshine hair for the soft sunshine boy. his skills in the field are impeccable and so is his hair. the number one item on his bucket list (below changing his name legally to mr. june havens) is having someone run their hands through his hair and also possibly braid it. please let roy miller relax and also *t’challa voice* Give This Man A Flower Crown. 9/10.

Stacee Jaxx (Rock of Ages)

long sexy rock star hair for the sexy rock star and yet does he do a SINGLE thing with it besides that bandana that one time or the cowboy hat? no. 2/10 for wasted potential. (also stacee: wash the bourbon out of your hair, maybe? just a thought.)

Jack Harper, Tech 49 (Oblivion)

nice good hair for a nice good boy. some call the hairstyle boring, i call it classic. a very solid poof at the front that droops and becomes sad later on but still looks good. luckily, looking good while being sad is something of a specialty for jack harper. if he finds any accessories or barrettes or hair ties in the wild he’d look very nice as well. 7/10.

Bill Cage (Edge of Tomorrow)

WHO CARES ABOUT YOUR HAIR THE PLANE IS GOING TO EXPLODE. (more boring than classic, extra points for the bounciness and the fact that he’s got great hair literally no matter what point at the end of the world he’s at. 5/10.)

[belettewrites]

Warnings: Destiny is a bitch and is prejudiced against witchers. And very temporary character death.

There are a lot of reasons why Destiny likes to play games with Geralt of Rivia. The first one is purely spite: the witcher denies her existence a lot, and, well, that would be enough to piss anyone off, wouldn’t it?

The second reason is that he’s a witcher. The fact that witchers exist is an abomination in itself. They're monsters created by men, they shouldn't be here; Melitele didn’t put them here, and though some tried to argue with Destiny that since Melitele had given humans the strength and cleverness to make Witchers and therefore they *had* a place there, she didn’t agree.

The other witchers, she can close her eyes (the ones from the cat school actually manage to entertain her), but this one? The one with the extra mutations who always manages to deny her existence, while he is the one that shouldn't be here? Oh boy.

So when a young bard makes his way toward the brooding witcher, she smiles. That one will be perfect. She’ll plague the witcher with him, make sure that they meet again and again and again. For such a silent man, a bard talking constantly will be unbearable. 

Except the Witcher ends up liking the bard, and the bard has the nerve to repair the Witcher's reputation that she had oh so carefully tainted over the years (her proudest accomplishment being Blaviken).

So Destiny figures out that if she wants the Witcher to suffer, she has to use the bard in a different way: the djinn happens. Jaskier suffers, and Geralt too, and then the Witcher has the fucking audacity to tie his fate with someone else, thus taking Destiny's choice away. She's furious at first, and then she realizes that this wish actually makes the Witcher feel guilty. Bonus point: the bard suffers too, the poor jealous thing.

She's there as Geralt calls on the Law of Surprise. She's delighted to see this happen − and then the fucking Witcher denies her existence one again. Clearly, Destiny has had enough.

Soon Nilfgaard is marching toward Cintra, and she waits for Geralt to find his Child Surprise – no chance he'll deny her existence now. But she's busy; the dumb Witcher gets dumped by the beautiful sorceress, and in exchange he dumps his bard. Truly, a very entertaining afternoon.

She watches as the bard walks down the mountain. He'll have to stay alive, she thinks, so she'll still be able to torture the Witcher more. Sure, his death could be the cause of an extreme guilt and grief to the Witcher, but she has other plans for them.

And then the bard manages to get killed while she wasn't paying attention. Damn humans.

Destiny won't have it this way though; she's fucking Destiny herself, this bard will live. Except she can't bring humans back to life, because of a stupid rule someone edited thousands of years ago. So she can't bring humans back to life, but she can create gods. She's their mother, in a way. A cruel one, but their mother nonetheless. And because Destiny likes to play games, she considers making the bard the god of Witchers. But a god of Witchers would mean that Witchers fit in nature, and they do not (whatever her sisters, brothers, and siblings, say).

She smiles to herself. Witchers hunt monsters, don't they? The bard will be the god of monsters. She cannot wait for the Witcher to realize what his friend has become.

She watches with attention as the bard wakes up in the clearing he died in a month ago. It's a bit cliché, maybe, but Destiny likes the tableau it makes either way. Oh, the confusion on the bard's face is so sweet. She'll give him time to discover what he has become before she puts him in the Witcher's way. She wants him to be eaten by guilt as he reunites with his old friend, unable to tell him what he has become.

Why did she wait a whole month to bring the bard back to life? So that his Witcher would be able to find his body, of course, and think that his friend was dead. Destiny had discovered, that day, that the rumor saying that Witchers don't cry was false. Oh, he didn't burst into tears, but she saw the few ones that fell on the ground as he held the body of the bard in his arms. She had made sure to preserve it, so the witcher would have no other choice but to realize that he had indirectly killed his friend.

The witcher actually finds his Child Surprise after that – Destiny has conveniently placed her on his path. The child is a sweet girl, she thinks, already plagued by nightmares of Cintra falling. She'll spare her, Destiny decides. For now.

The bard learns of his new powers when he actually summons a griffin to his side. The man yelps, scared, and Destiny laughs as he calls for his witcher before remembering their fight. She made the right decision, to turn him into that. Then the bard pets the griffin and she frowns. He's unpredictable, it might cause some problems in the future.

The bard reunites with his witcher when she isn't paying attention. She was busy watching a cat witcher take a contract for a human, then steal the human's gold. Entertaining. She quite likes these cat witchers.

When she realizes that the Witcher and the bard are together again, she pays closer attention, smiles as the Witcher glares at his friend, his silver sword on the bard's throat, the Child Surprise hidden behind him.

Then she screams in frustration, because the bard says something to the witcher that makes him put his sword away, and hug him.

And then they're traveling again, and they both seem happy to be in each other's presence.

So Destiny sends them the ugliest, most dangerous monster she could find, knowing that the bard will have to reveal himself if he wants his friend to survive. And the bard does it, quite dramatically; it's like he knows he has an audience. She always appreciated that from the bard, how he would put up a show even if he was alone – because after all, Destiny was always watching, and he made an amazing actor.

To say that she's disappointed when the reveal doesn't go as planned would be an understatement. The witcher doesn't hurt the bard, doesn't send him away, doesn't snarl at him. No. None of that.

The witcher... smiles softly and says that he expected something like this, since Destiny always likes to fuck him over. And hey, he’s right, but Destiny wanted him to send his friend away, in a repeat of their fight on the mountain. Instead what the Witcher does is-

It's-

It's so unexpected that Destiny forgets to be mad as the Witcher cradles his bard’s face and kisses him softly.

Destiny realizes then what she has done, what has happened, why her plan didn't work. She made the bard immortal. Now he and the Witcher will be together forever, because, apparently, they love each other. And it makes sense now, it all makes sense because of course they'd choose to defy her again by falling in love.

Of course her plan wouldn't work then, because the witcher would choose his bard even if he was the god of the things he hunted. 

What has she done, now they'll be able to live forever, to defy her forever-

No, actually, you know what? Good. Because that means that Destiny will be able to play with them a little longer.

[needdatbag]

Drinking You/II

Notes: Soooo....Here’s part 2..Thanx for the notes guyssss <3 ♥

Summary: You encounter a stranger on your way back from the grocery shop and everything about him pulls you in.

Pairings: Eren Yeager x Reader; Various pairings eventually

Warnings: NSFW(not today tho); mentions of smoking. 

>

Part II

’’Kid….Am I not interesting enough for your small, forgetful brain?’’ asked Levi from his desk, his grey eyes expressing the dissatisfaction he had about your mistake.

THE FILE. The Eren Yeager file. The file he stole from your bag after he finished...well...screwing you. To say that you were upset about the fact that you were used as a mere excuse for theft was an understatement. You were pissed as hell.

But your boss came first, as his death glare made you snap out of your one sided grudge with the memory of the charming terrorist you encountered. It was definitely wrong and probably a bad move but you couldn’t tell Levi what happened. So….you lied.

’’For the 27th time, I am so sorry that I ‘accidentally’ threw an important file into the shredder..I was cleaning my desk and I wasn’t paying attention.’’ you sounded honest but a little mechanical as you said the same excuse for awhile now.

Levi raised one of his brows at your nonchalance but sighed and said:

’’At least you didn't lose it. That would have been a big ass problem.’’

You clenched your fist behind your back. This was not ending well for you.

’’Please..I’m not that idiotic.’’ somehow your tone didn’t betray you but a small voice in your mind retorted immediately, ‘You are more than idiotic and you’re definetley screwed.’. You gulped.

A soft knock interrupted the beginning of your inner mental breakdown. Armin entered Levi’s office carrying a stack of files in one arm and holding what looked like a coffee cup in the other. He placed the files on Levi’s desk and handed him the cup. You suddenly blurted out your first thought.

’’But you don’t drink coffee.’’

Levi’s death glare almost made you take a step back. Well, maybe Eren Yeager took more than the file...he stole your brain too as you suddenly find yourself incapable of thinking. You want to slap a hand over your mouth. What the hell was wrong with you lately?

Armin watched you curiously for a moment. You feared his intuition, he was too sharp sometimes and that made you anxious in the current situation, but you tried to play it off anyway.

’’Ahem, yes, I heard it from Mrs. Zoe? Ha, am I wrong ?’’ you laughed awkwardly at the end of your sentence.

Armin shook his head, his short blonde hair hitting his face in the process. ’’That is right. As expected of you, Y/N, your mind always picks up the smallest details. The Captain drinks tea. I got a few extra cups to go, just 10 minutes ago. You can help yourself from the kitchen...Though I’m pretty sure you love coffee more.’’ he said while giving you a kind, small smile. You smiled back trying not to break eye contact.

‘You might be my best friend’s soulmate.’

You cringed internally. Not because you didn't find Armin attractive, because you thought the boy could even model if he wanted to, but because of what happened later after Eren said that phrase. You shook your head trying to banish the image of a long haired, 6ft man on top of your naked body. ‘Not the time, not the time.’

You wondered what Armin would think about the fact that you got to meet his best friend before he did. As you found out today, turns out they have not met in more than a year. You felt guilty for keeping your mouth shut. But it seemed like the best course of action. You needed to act solo for a while.

In a safe way, of course.

Levi motioned for Armin to leave but as he got closer to the door you saw his eyes discreetly peering at your neck and then at your face. Your hair was covering most of your hickeys but Armin might have noticed something anyway.

Once he left the room, Levi got up from his seat and approached the window.

He was wearing a plain white dress shirt and black pants with a pair of dark brown leather shoes. He was not going on the field today, you could tell that much because of his outfit. He was in his thirties now but his looks still caused many casualties between the female officers, especially the MPs who were more than enthusiastic when Levi passed them by. He was one of the best at his job and his handsome face was obviously a bonus.

You always said it was the mix between his good looks and his cold attitude that was pulling people in, but he was far from an unfeeling person. He usually cared too much about everything. Seeming distant was just his way of preserving himself. People were impressed just by hearing stories about him. But most of them had no idea how much he suffered. You knew. Not that he liked that. He never liked the fact that fate seemed to always make you meet again and again.

The first time, as his student when he was teaching in highschool. The second time as his blind date, Hange’s courtesy. The third time as the new member of his team, fate’s courtesy this time.

Each time you look at him you remember how selfish you’ve always been. You hate the thought but you know and can’t deny the fact that one way or another you always became a burden for the man sitting right across you. Right from the start.

----------------------------------------------------------------------- ’’Sir, is she worth it?’’ an eighteen years old you asked a younger Levi who was just exiting through the school’s gates. As he whipped his head back to match the voice to the person, his stern look softened just a bit. It was late and you were supposed to be home long ago. Instead you were only leaving now, a bag full of books in your right hand. You always stayed in the library until the school closed. You didn’t want to go home anyway.

’’That’s not an ideal question to ask about your sister, is it, brat?’’

You started laughing. He knew better than to refer to his fiance as your sister. You hated the bitch and there was no bond whatsoever between the two of you. She was just the awful daughter of the amazing woman who took you in after your parents kicked you out.

’’Can you give me a ride home, sir? I am afraid my frail arms are unable to carry these books until I reach the nearest bus stop.’’ you said in a dramatic tone while Levi just massaged his temples out of frustration but made a gesture towards his car anyway.

You smiled at him as you entered the car. He was driving in silence, without any radio music in the background, without any small talk. You wanted to tell him so many things, you wanted to express your indignation regarding the fact that your ‘sister’ was cheating on him and using him as an alibi so her mother won’t ever suspect she’s dating one of the biggest drug dealers in the region, you wanted to complain about the fact that he wasted his good heart on someone who wronged him before, you wanted to ask him why was he clinging to unhappiness so desperately. You could never understand. Even as you watched as the road light travelled on his face while he drove, you could only think about how well he managed to hide his pain. People didn’t notice that he was alone most of the time. Or that he rarely smiled.

It made you sad, it made you think of a part of yourself. Except you constantly fought for your right at happiness even if sadness never left your side. No matter how annoying that made you, you still kept going. But he didn’t even seem like he tried. He looked like the loneliest person on earth and he hid it so well that if you said what you thought out loud, people would just think you're looking into it too much.

You reached your house and his car stopped. Somehow, only now you noticed the pleasant smell inside the car. It smelled like fruity tea-bags which you assumed came from a spare ’stash’ he had somewhere around. You smiled. He always drinks tea during the breaks. It makes him look so refined too. Without any intention you giggled. He noticed and raised a brow, asking:

’’What makes you so happy that you’re hesitating to get out of my car? Hm? Move it, you didn’t even had dinner yet.’’

You turned your whole body towards him while you spoke in an excited manner.

’’I was thinking about you, sir. The way you enjoy your tea during breaks and how that’s the most happy I saw you since I came to this school.’’

With a confused look on his face he tilted his head but let you speak nonetheless. Your voice became softer while you looked down, your hair falling over your face.

’’You see, I believe that happiness can only come from being honest with yourself. Lie to the world, lie to people but if you lie to yourself you’ll just tint your soul to the point even the tea you love so much won’t taste the same anymore.’’

Levi’s eyes widened slightly. He knew you were outspoken and that sometimes you caused trouble because you meddled in things that were none of your business and you spoke way too much but he couldn’t deny the way you arranged your words. He knew you had a kind heart and that you were trying to reach his. He almost wanted to smile. ‘Stupid kid.’

He didn't say anything as you exited the car but watched you until you entered the house. You were right, he knew he was cheated on, he knew he was used but there was another side to his truth too. He used the idea of a fiance to run away from both his past and future.

But looking at you who had nothing but wanted everything, he thought that maybe, just maybe...he became a coward. And he always hated cowards.

As you watched him drive away, that was the last time you met him as a teacher, as he would lose his job in two weeks due to murder acusations regarding his fiance. Your ‘sister’.

You’d hear from your classmates how a tall, blonde detective cuffed him in front of the whole school while he put up a fight.

Then he would be gone and you wouldn't hear anything about him for a few years. -------------------------------------------------

’’So, care to explain why you are so distracted today?’’ he was gazing outside the window but you couldn’t help notice the way his voice was softer now that you were alone again.

’’I was unable to rest well last night, however you don’t need to worry, sir. I’ll snap back as soon as I drink some coffee, just as Armin suggested.’’

Another lie. You actually slept like a baby because you were so exhausted. The bed felt so warm and the man next to you smelt so good that you felt like you were floating. Only your dumb ass could sleep so relaxed next to a criminal.

You pondered before asking the next question.

’’What type of person used to be.....Eren Yeager?’’

His name sounded so different from your mouth or maybe that was your own perception. You recognised a little stinginess in your tone.

You pulled out your phone and started a voice recording. You were allowed to do so when it came to declarations. You were a profiler afterall. You needed to go over conversations and details, multiple times to complete your work.

Levi turned away from the window and took a few steps closer to you. His expression looked indifferent but you knew better. There was regret mixed in his feelings.

’’That brat wasn’t the most talented nor the smartest agent around, I actually often thought he was more of an idiot than most people I knew..’’

You stopped yourself from laughing. ’Unprofessional...Don’t do it. Let him continue.’

’’He was too much of a hot head for his own good but he listened to my orders and tried to look at things from a more mature perspective, perhaps we might have asked too much from him. Our department was in trouble and we lost more people than you could count, in a very short amount of time. We had an operation that lasted for more than 2 years. Eren was the key to that operation. Everything circled around him. We wanted to find answers so badly, we sacrificed so much that we never saw the fact that we had spies among us and the whole operation became more than a national issue. You said you read the file before you shredded it, right? I also mentioned it in the meeting before. You know what’s the issue I’m talking about, right?’’

Your breathing becomes more alert and a bitter feeling takes over your heart. Memories from your distant childhood try to resurface but you push them away. The past always catches up.

Your voice becomes more serious when you answer.

’’After 14 years of peace we might have another war with the neighbour nation, Marley, is that right?’’

Silence fills the room as Levi only nods. He seems lost in his own mind for a while and you can only guess what he might be thinking about. He was a soldier back then and this whole deal pissed him off.

’’Eren betrayed us. No warning, just a vague explanation. He almost wiped out their whole capital, one of the biggest cities in Marley, he killed VERY important people and now we are threatened left and right. This dumbass is very close to starting the biggest international conflict this country ever faced. Can’t believe that brat had the nerve to come back and now he’s under our jurisdiction again. We have to catch him and fast. Everyone you’ll ask will say he changed, but I always knew he had it in him. He might just destroy the world...no one can cage him. He’s that type of monster.’’

Your body suddenly felt numb, a weird sense of fear trying to take over you. His face, his expressions, everything flashed in your mind repeatedly, pieces of the conversation you had, the way he touched you, the note he left. For the first time in a very long time, you felt lost in translation.

Things were not adding up. Someone was wrong here. Something was definitely missing. You paused the recording and exhaled while rubbing your temples.

’’This should not be handled by a departament full of people that know him. Someone must really want to bury the Survey unit in shit.’’

A humourless laugh escaped your mouth.

’’Sorry Levi, you always hated when I cursed. Forgot about that.’’  you said, a sad look plastered on your face remembering many of the arguments you two had mostly because of you.

He frowned and took another step closer to you, unconsciously wanting to pat your head but you were already heading for the door. He snapped out of it and looked at his hand. He got carried away for a second, wanting to comfort you.

’’I guess you’ll always have a soft spot for me, sir...but we shouldn’t be very comfortable around each other. You were always the better man and I was always the wicked little girl.’’

’’L/N..’’

You exited his office. ‘Unfortunately, I’m still the same.’ you thought while walking to your desk and getting ready to work on the details of some cases that became piled up in the last week.

As you sat down and flipped through various lists of criminals, you tried to silence your mind. Sometimes your mental state was just like a furious sea storm. You have the tendency to drown in your own dark and poisonous thoughts until your identity becomes foggy. But work was a great distraction and thankfully...you sure had plenty of it. So you rolled up your sleeves, took a sip of the coffee Armin put on your desk (somehow the fact that he did sweet gestures like this made you very warm inside) and started working on your reports ignoring intentionally a certain criminal whose face you really didn’t wanna see again today, not on a screen, not printed...you'll deal with the Yeager case at home. You had to catch up on your work anyway.

Right? You weren’t running away or anything...right?

People around you became colorful shadows that moved around exiting or entering the headquarters while you were scribbling furiously details about different cases. When your phone rang, an hour before the end of your shift, you almost jumped out of your chair. You looked around and realised everyone was out and you were the only one left. Probably investigating, or some kind of emergency.

On the screen of your phone Jean’s face was popping up with the incoming call. When he first gave you his contact number he took a selfie of himself because he thought he looked ‘cool’ in that moment and you ‘had to have his handsomeness on your phone’, his words not yours. You rolled your eyes at the memory.

’’ ‘Sup Kirschtein? I’m busy and I swear to God if you call me ‘cause you're bored while being on some stakeout I will…’’ He burst into laughter and answered: ’’Calm down Y/N, I only did that like five or six times and you might’ve even liked it, don’t lie to me now.’’ he said in a charming yet joking voice and you couldn’t help but smile. He was one of the people who could easily put you in a good mood. ’’Wanna get out to get some ‘’fresh air’’ on the roof? It turns out we sorted out what we had to do sooner than expected….well sooner than I thought. That damn Floch will kill me one day...His attitude might just get us both killed.’’

Of course he wanted to smoke and complain about his partner, Floch. Jean didn’t seem like the type to think a lot, especially when you first got to meet him. He’s loud, a little bit of a bragger and has lots of opinions on anything but he was an exceptionally capable man in times of crises. You witnessed that a few times but you also heard it from Sasha: ’’Marco, Jean’s ex-partner, always said that Jean was the one most capable of leading us out of trouble and Marco’s intuition about people was as good as my instincts about danger. He knew what he was saying.’’

When you reached the roof, Jean was already smoking while looking at the red sky. The sun was almost gone. He looked lost in thought, barely noticing you until he heard the sound of your lighter. You took a long puff and exhaled. For some reason you felt exhausted and even if the silence somehow pleased you, it felt unlike Jean. He always liked to talk a lot around you, your smoking breaks being full of gossiping. It was almost always the two of you, given the fact that you and him were the only smokers in the department. You had a hunch that Armin smoked too but only when he was truly bothered by something, Connie tried it once and said he liked it but you knew he lied, Sasha said she didn't like the taste(did not surprise you at all there) and Mikasa thought it was stupid and unhealthy and you honestly agreed.

’’Why do you smoke, Jean?’’ you asked out of the blue. You realised you never asked him that. For some reason the image of Eren staring at you while holding his pack of cigarettes in one hand flashed in your mind. You took another inhale of smoke trying to push the image away. Jean didn’t respond immediately but when his eyes fixed on the cigarette he was holding.

’’Marco used to smoke here. It was so unlike him. He really didn’t seem like the type and he tried to hide it all the time...he was even carrying perfume around.’’ he said and let out a short bitter laugh. For some reason he placed a hand on his face trying to hide his expression. ’’I started smoking after he died. I guess..well fuck...I miss being with my friend. When I’m holding this cigarette it feels as if he’s still here. As if I could …’’ he hesitated before continuing,’’....ask him for advice about what I should do..’’

You got closer to him and bumped your shoulder into his in a friendly manner. He dropped his hand from his face and looked at you. You could see he was emotionally drained but you flashed him a cheerful smile even though you felt like shit as well. You looked up at the now, darker sky and said in a loud voice:

’’By smoking this cigarette I dare ask the amazing Marco Bott from heaven to lend me some of his wisdom. Please let me give our friend here a good answer to the question troubling his, not so young anymore, soul.’’

’’I’m only a year older than you, Y/N.’’ he said, his voice a little amused now. You rolled your eyes.

’’You’re an old soul, Jean. My shift will be over soon so spit it out...What’s bothering yo-’’

’’Did you study Eren’s file?’’ he asked out of the blue. You sighed and took another cigarette out and placed it in your mouth.

’’Not yet. Tonight I plan on looking over it. Why? Wanna tell me something about him that might help me in writing his profile?’’

Jean shook his head and took a puff out of his cigarette.

’’Once you look over it, after you read our statements  about him that are also included there, before writing any report, I want you to tell me something that might help me.’’ you raised a brow in confusion but he wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was staring straight ahead at the city covered in the red light of the sunset.

’’Who do you think will hesitate when shooting? Us or Eren ?’’

You ran a hand through your hair and looked at the city too. As the night approached, it suddenly looked more dangerous.

‘Who indeed…?’ . . . . . Before leaving you stopped by Hange’s office to drop some of the work you completed for the day. Moblit, her assistant, the guy who you knew for a fact was the only one besides Levi to be able to control your workaholic Director, was trying to force feed her some pizza while she insisted that she had to look over some DNA samples found at a random crime scene.

’’M’am, I know you worked in the lab for most of your life but now you should be dealing only with the work Erwin had to do when he had your position. He didn't try to be in ten places at once! Come on, eat this slice. You didn't eat all day! Do I really have to message Levi right now? You know he always gets pissed when you act like this.’’

When Hange noticed you at the door she took the opportunity and sprinted to the lab leaving a stressed Moblit behind who was still holding a pizza slice in his right hand staring at you in disbelief . Poor man. You placed your work on Hange’s desk and eyed Moblit and then the pizza. You smiled like a cunning, old, hungry dog.

’’I’ll call The Captain for you if you give me two slices of that pizza. Deal?’’ Moblit sighed. ’’Deal.’’

So there you were now, walking out of the building towards your car, while happily munching on your pizza slice. You planned on eating the other one at home, later, if you’d get hungry while working late. You entered your car and threw your stuff on the passenger seat. You started the engine and drove home while listening to the radio. Weirdly enough there was a radio podcast about astrology. You found it weird because this type of podcast would usually be broadcast in the morning. When you heard your zodiac sign being mentioned you couldn’t help but pay a little attention. You were curious afterall and maybe some luck was ahead of you. ’You never know.’

’’As I said John, the (your zodiac) sign should really be careful about what they say and do...The ruler of divine punishment, Jupiter seems to have entered a rare conjunction. The past is catching up to them and it looks like they can’t run away from certain confrontations anymore. It could be with someone else or maybe with themselves. Also, it would be especially good to avoid Fire Signs around this time for (your zodiac), as all three, Aries, Leo and Sagittarius are chaos bringers in this Jupiter conjunction. So you heard me? Don’t try to dig into anything too much these days...You might just bury yourself.’’

You started laughing.

’’Pfft, yeah right... What a load of crap.’’ you said displeased as you turn off the radio.

You finally reach home. After you park and lock your car you enter your apartment building and as always you take the elevator, too lazy to drag your tired body on the stairs. You only think about soaking yourself in a warm bath as soon as possible. You might even use the new bubble bath stuff you got last week. ’Yeah, I think I will do just that. My body aches everywhere anyway, I need some relaxation.’

So immediately after you unlocked your door, you dropped your stuff, and went straight to the bathroom to turn on the warm water. Hell, you might’ve even skipped on the way as you were so happy to finally just have a moment of forgetting everything about anything and just indulge in the warmth and the nice smell of a warm bath.

So happy that you didn’t even bother to turn on the light in the living room.

Because if you did, you would have noticed Eren Yeager, sitting on your couch with a gun by his side.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Preview:

You looked at Eren. You looked at the gun. You looked at the gun. You looked at Eren.

There were many things you wanted to say in that moment but strangely enough a rather unusual question was bothering you more than anything.

’’You never mentioned your birthday,’’ you said not believing you were actually asking this out of all things, ’’not that you forgot to mention things like your name or the fact that you’re right now, probably the most wanted criminal in the...world ...ha ha ....but who keeps track, am I right?’’ you laughed nervously.

’’My birthday..?’’ he asked while watching you suspiciously but calm at the same time. ’’Why?’’

You kept your distance. Your position was stiff and you couldn’t help but be surprised that he was right in front of you. In your house ...again...in less than 24h. Why in Isayama’s name was he here?

’’Nothing important really...Just something silly.’’ again, you let out a nervous laugh. You were in trouble and you didn’t have your fucking gun on you and your phone was in the bag.

Eren let out a sigh and shook his head.

’’Hm, shouldn’t you, miss profiler, know that about me already?’’ He placed his hands behind his head and leaned deeper on one of the back pillows. His position was relaxed but something told you to not risk going for the gun. It might even be a trap anyway.

’’March, 30.’’ he surprisingly answered after a short silence.

‘March...Weren’t Pisces in March? Nah, this man ain’t no Pisces...Too unhinged...What’s next...Oh.’ you closed your eyes in frustration, ’... Aries.’

’’Great, freaking Fire Sign. Of course you are.'’

You weren’t sure if you should listen to that type of radio podcast more often or 

never again.

when you find out your signs are not the greatest match ever 

[zippers-flowers-and-wine]

"Go visit family in Oregon, they said. It'll be a blast, they said!" You hiss, hustling a little faster through the light rain with your arms ineffectively attempting to shield your thick hair.

What a crock of shit.

What they didn't tell you about this fucking place was that it rained every.

Fucking.

D a y.

...

Okay, you may be exaggerating juust a tad, you'll admit to that.

But still! The high humidity sucked for your already frizzed hair, and the rain usually rolled in out of nowhere!

As if to prove your point - or maybe even mock you, Oregon was a little bitch like that - the sky rumbles threateningly, darkening to a near black. The few drops that had been landing against your neck, speed up and you wail a dramatic curse.

Throwing your comfy coat over your head, you start hustling your step a little more.

Moving here hadn't been that much of a mistake, despite what you may complain. It was really pretty, with so many mountains that had good hiking spots, and rivers that provided you with relaxing swimming pools. Plus the always chilly water was a definite bonus, a complete step up from the metallic tang that always permeated the water in some of the hotter spots you've lived in.

The only problem you really had with Oregon was...

A low, clicking rumble from above. Your hair stands on end, and you take the steps up to your apartment three at a time, barely pausing to pull out your keys. You hear him click behind you, closer than you were comfortable with. It makes you miss the keyhole a few times, but the sound of him landing roughly on the metal railing behind you gives you small bit of extra coordination and you swiftly shove your door open.

Slamming it shut, a nervous eye peeks out of the peephole, flinching when it clashes with an overly wide, slightly compound, black eye.

God-damn-it.

Fucking... The bug beasts that liked to hang around were another factoid about Oregon that... Well, they didn't piss you off. It was just a huge leap from your last home.

Those guys weren't as prevalent in the other places you lived, most non-mountainous places only really having the arachnid-type beasts. In fact, when you lived in Texas with your cousins, the only insect based one you had ever seen was this one fluffy, brown and black... Caterpillar? He'll, he may be a fully grown butterfly at this point.

But he was a kid who had a nasty attitude, dyed his hair blue - according to rumours - and was always yelling at the humans he usually stuck around.

This place though? Practically crawling with them, no pun intended.

Beastfolk weren't new, but they were very few and very far inbetween. In fact, a lot of people had been questioning if they could really be considered "sentient"...

Well, they were swiftly shut down by a feisty tarantula, that looked kinda like an Arizona Blonde, that had become a lawyer and completely shut down a court case.

Another soft clicking makes you jump, shooting a look at the door. "Chill your thorax, fuzzbutt."

An offended click, and you smirk.

The only thing that kept a lot of people from considering most beasts as sentient and free thinking people was... Well...

You hear him jump over the railing. The heavy, almost lethargic sound of his wings flapping makes you hop to attention, darting through the house to swiftly shut your window with smug whoop.

He's gotten you like that too many times.

You see, beasts haven't fully gotten over their base instincts, and the month leading into spring was were all anti-beastfolk arguments got their evidence. Said that beasts clearly can't be sentient, they succumb to those based urges so easily!

Not because the folk felt any urge to fuck like rabbits, as was the common misconception.

He chitters at you through the window, feet thudding against either side of the - now shut - window for mere seconds before he kicks back off. His clicks fades as you grin giddily, dancing in place. You might actually win this one!

The only reason most speciests would give for being so against beastfolks was the fact that they were "too base instinct" and it made them "feel unsafe".

And in a way, they were right.

Your grin fades when you realize you can't hear him anymore.

It's dangerous to get between any spider-types and their chosen.

The hairs on your body raise, your mind scrambling to figure this out.

It's foolish to keep a centipede-type away from their loved ones.

A soft shuffle has you whipping around, hands up in a comical karate motion.

It's down right ridiculous to separate ant-types from their mates.

Suddenly, you remember: you didn't lock the bathroom up.

"You're asking for a death sentence if you get between a moth and his love." The voice slides between you shoulder blades, accompanied by four large arms wrapping around you.

Screaming in delight, you curse, "Oh you sneaky fuck!"

Bruno laughs, allowing you to whip around and hit his shoulder. His hand comes up, wringing out some of his neck fluff while he flashes you a smarmy grin. "What? It's not my fault you didn't check the bathroom first. I didn't even land at your window!"

You gasp, pushing him away with a look of mock horror. "Yo-you..."

He leans in, large black eyes shining teasingly. "Come on, you can say it."

"I can't!" You cry in the most over the top, Trans-Atlantic accent possible, draping yourself across the bed.

Bruno huffs a laugh, antenna flicking as he quickly shucks his slightly damp over shirt. With a quick hop, courtesy of his powerful legs, he lands on top of you, grinning at you scream. "What, is it a bad word?"

"Yes! You foul man, begone He-Who- Says-Bad-Words! Begone!" His eyes light up, a near maniacal grin stretching across his usually serious features.

(You'd never say it out loud for fear of emotionally wounding him: but you kinda liked how he acted pre-spring. He was so goofy... Although serious, intense Bruno is just as pleasant.)

His wings flare up, engulfing the room in a shadow of white, black speckled wings. His upper set of arm catch your hands and you're, quite rudely, made aware of your mistake of allowing him to straddle you.

"Bruno..." You warn, wiggling to pull away from his grasp.

His grin stretches wider, fangs hooking just slightly over his bottom lip as Bruno teases back, "(Y/N)..?"

Whatever threat you were gonna say is lost as his second pair of hands - the wicked claws clipped precisely for this reason - dive in, wiggling furiously against your ribs.

Screaming, you thrash, kicking out and laughing. His hands hold you steady, with just enough give that you're continuously given hope that you can escape, but you know better.

"Saaaay iiit~" He croons, slowing so you can speak.

Wheezing a few wet coughs, you smirk at him. "N-Nuh uh. I-I don't cuss like you do."

His antenna flick up, shivering as his grin gets wider. "Me? Cuss? Now that's just slanderous talk my dear."

"N' slander, cuz' it's true."

"Hmm, I think you can speak far too well my dear." A part of you immediately regrets talking back, especially when he shifts both of your hands into one of his, the other migrating down to hold your chest down.

Flashing you a smirk, he wiggles his fingers near your kneecap.

"Now, what am I?"

You keep stubbornly quiet. Humming, the large moth brushes his fingers down the back of your calf, chattering at the full body jerk you give.

"Once again, what am I?"

"A liar, because you lied!" You squawk mid-laugh, playfully gasping in mock horror. Bruno chirps in laughter, releasing you to flip over.

"Haha, now you're a filthy cusser like me!"

You groan, rolling over to nudge his wings so you can snuggle beneath. He lifts it without fuss, purring when you nuzzle your face into his chest fluff.

"Mmmn, love you B."

His chest vibrates with a fierce purr, and you grin. Grumbling past the motor in his chest, Bruno mumbles, "You only love me for my purring."

"Well, the fuzz is a nice addition."

"I will throw you off this bed, don't try me."

"Bet."

You found yourself face down n the floor less than two seconds later and not at all pissed.

[i-can-get-extra-with-my-fics]

Day 26 - Valentines Day - Pinkberry

ive got nothing to say. just gorls. also lowkey based on the fact that when I was playing if i could tell her and I got to the “I love you” x 80 part my mom kept going “i love you too”

tw none

---

"Hey, Chloe! Chloe! Chloe! Chloe! Chloe! Chloe! Chloe!" Brooke called after her in the hallway.

"Brooke Brooke Brooke Brooke Brooke Brooke Brooke!" Chloe repeated in a similar fashion once Brooke had caught up to her.

"Hey, we should go to my house tonight," Brooke was fairly good at hiding the nervousness she felt. Tonight was the night.

"Why? Isn't Jake throwing a party?"

"He's been referring to it as a "small gathering" because he only invited the Squad."

"Ok, but why wouldn't we go?"

Brooke sighed in fake annoyance. "Do you really wanna sit there and watch the boys be gay with each other and probably start a food fight while Christine is going full mom mode and Jenna is trying to get her to chill out while we would sit there being depressed because we're the only single people in our friend group and the rest of our friends aren't because they're dating within our friend group?"

"Brooke breathe. I think the only other time I've heard you talk that fast is when you challenged Christine to a Guns and Ships battle."

Brooke laughed. "Ok, that was a bad choice. One does not simply musical challenge Christine Canigula. But my house?"

At this point, they'd made it to Chloe's car. "Get in bitch. We're ditching being the only single people in the gay fest that in the SQUIP Squad."

Brooke managed to keep conversation and act rather fine for most of the drive. She got more anxious as they got closer to her house and a little more showed. And then it spiked as they made their way to Brooke's bedroom.

"Ok, so I have something I wanna show you," Brooke sat down on her bed and grabbed her ukulele.

"Ooh sweet what song did you learn?"

"That is for me to know and for you to find out." Chloe playfully glared at Brooke who started to play.

"She said: there's nothing like your smile, sorta subtle and perfect and real," Chloe smiled and Brooke tried not to blush. "And she knew, whenever you get bored you scribble stars on the cuffs of your jeans. And she noticed that you still fill out the quizzes that they put in those teen magazines." Brooke couldn't help but smile. This was always one of Chloe's favorite musical songs.

(time skip brought to you by my now very urgent need to play If I Could Tell Her on my uke)

"If I could tell her! But what do you do when there's this great divide?"

Chloe just stole Zoe's part even though Brooke was gonna just do both herself. But for this part she just let Brooke sing both.

"She just seems so far away! And what do you do when the distance is too wide? It's like I don't know anything." Chloe noticed how much raw emotion Brooke was putting into that part. It wasn't just "I feel the emotions of the characters" it was "these lyrics are bringing out emotions in me". She was also strumming super hard and Chloe worried that she would snap the strings.

"And how do you say..." Brooke looked up from the paper where she had written the chords and looked at Chloe for the first time since the beginning of the song.

"I love you?"

Brooke really hoped Chloe would catch on.

"I love you."

Chloe could tell that this wasn't just Brooke singing the words to the song.

"I love you!"

She meant them.

"I love you..."

Chloe blushed. Brooke bit her lip and looked back down at the chords. She really didn't need to look at them the end was fairly easy but she just needed something to stare at that wasn't Chloe.

"But we're a million worlds apart."

Chloe stood up from the floor and sat down next to Brooke on the bed.

"And I don't know how I would even start if I could tell her. If I could..."

Bonus bitches

"Someone pls explain why you two missed out on my "let's get high in Michael's basement and just fucking vibe and be gay on the floor because other people are fucking each other or smth right now" gathering?" Jake loudly exclaimed as he sat down at their lunch table.

"Babe chill probably didn't want to be surrounded with the four of us being gay and Jen and Chris being gay too." Michael sat down next to Chloe.

"A painful reminder of the fact that they be single." Christine was being extra dramatic because "oh how tragic."

"Actually."

Everyone looked at the girls in question and then died when Chloe kissed Brooke.

---

why don’t I know how to end things?

[spikeymarshmallows]

alright bitches, saddle up. it’s headcanon-ing time.

inspired by this post.

Specifically this section:

The standard urban fantasy female protagonist dating a werewolf who is not an alpha. Bonus points for it being a cute beta werewolfess who thinks her girlfriend’s perpetual posturing as the ‘baddest bitch on the block’™ is the most adorable thing ever. Extra bonus points for fuzzy baby werewolves and adopted babies. (Because actual wolf packs? Exist to raise children. They’re family units, focused around rearing cubs.)

#werewolves #queer wolves #werewolves as the foster parents of the supernatural world #if there’s a kid so much as sniffling in their general vicinity they’re going to get adopted #the fae discovered that they could straight-up hand off changlings to werewolf packs #no deception needed #magic using children of mundane parents who can’t handle it? #every pack has a dozen of them #fic ideas

okay this is one of the cutest reblogs I’ve gotten. imagine it werewolves just going YES FAMILY GOOD and adopting everyone and making sure they get attention and food and understand that it’s fine to be who you are and that you’re not alone, you’re pack now

Okay, I tried to do the Tumblr aesthetic thing, but it turns out, it takes more effort for me *not* to use capital letters, so fuck that.

Okay, but just imagine. The kids are all 13. Five has not yet fucked off into ye olde apocalypse. Reginald has caught Klaus wearing eyeliner and dancing around in one of Vanya’s skirts, because Allison rumoured him into doing 300 pushups last time he was caught in hers, and Vanya has no spine. So Reggie’s just shoved Klaus in the mausoleum, and as soon as he’s been let go, a sobbing Klaus sneaks out of the house.

He’s hiding in the alley outside the house, one of many probably, and is crouched on the ground, sniffing wetly and wiping furiously at his eyes. The eyeliner is long since smudged, but it’s stuck around because, hey, it’s not waterproof but it’s that shitty 90′s eyeliner that takes an insane amount of effort to get off. And he’s rolling a joint, but his hands are shaking.

And this queer werewolf couple happen to be walking by, and super-hearing etc etc, hear a kid crying.

And one of them is all “CHILD. CRYING. MUST PROTECT”.

“Maggie, ffs, you can’t just walk up to strange children and adopt them” “WATCH ME”.

And so this lovely werewolf couple, who are young, and haven’t been able to have kids of their own yet (but have a lovely pack back home) go and talk to a crying Klaus.

And Reginald has taught the kids loads of useless shit, but teaching them stranger danger? Nahhhh son. Sure, Klaus could put up a good fight, but why would he want to fight this nice couple?

And so, through tears, Klaus talks to them, and Maggie is like, looking up at her partner, Sofia, with these big earnest eyes. Because Sofia was like this, trapped with a shitty family who wouldn’t accept her for who she was. And Maggie is like “CAN WE ADOPT HIM” and Sofia is “...you can’t just take a kid off the street and adopt him” except Maggie basically did it to Sofia when they were both seventeen, so it’s not an effective argument.

And Klaus is crouched there, still in his damn skirt, his knees all bruised and filthy from being in the mausoleum, and his hands are grimy and a little bloody, and he can’t fucking roll this joint, and Sofia is just “he’s thirteen and smoking weed? THIS CAN NOT GO ON. MUST. PROTECT.”

And god, it does not at all take much convincing to come home with them except--

“I can’t leave without my favourite brothers 🥺“

Cue Klaus racing inside, trying to grab Ben and Diego to drag them off to his new family. And honestly, they’re not that hard to convince to leave either although they wonder if Klaus has lost the fucking plot, because he’s rambling and raving and not entirely making sense and he’s filthy and--well, he’s Klaus.

But Luther is very “No, we cannot split the team up >:(” and Klaus is just “Okay. Come with us, dipshit.”

And where Luther goes, Allison follows. That said, Allison had been listening from her room and is intrigued at the idea of an adventure.

And Five, who thinks they’re all a bunch of idiots, is just... “Ugh, I’m coming with because it’s me who will need to get you out of trouble when you inevitably land in it”.

And Five (and Ben) don’t like to leave Vanya out, so as soon as she’s back from her violin practice, they sneak her out too.

And that’s the story of how this lovely queer werewolf couple went on an afternoon stroll and adopted seven kids.

Because, hear me out if you’ve made it this far....

It’s initially a bit weird. The kids are used to competing for love and attention, for any skeric of a compliment. There are tiffs, really fucking fast. And Mom’s are like “Kids, this isn’t good pack behaviour”.

Luther’s ears pricking up because... “...does... does this mean we get to do Pack Bonding????”

Yes it does.

There’s no competitions here! Not any more than friendly ones, anyway. No competing for attention or love. It’s just lavished upon them because there’s a pack! Lots of parents!

Imagine one of pack members taking Luther outside to study the night sky, and teaching him all about moon cycles, and different stars and constellations. Some of these werewolves are as strong as him too, and he can spar without having to hold back!

Imagine some pack members saying “hey, Diego, let’s see who’s the fastest!” and Diego just *heavy breathing*. And of course, they let him win, but not in an obvious way. Just slowly building this kids confidence up, piece by piece. They don’t care about his stutter, and they show him love in loads of cuddles, and he learns to howl at the moon.

Allison is just... sisters. She’s always liked being the centre of attention, and so it’s an adjustment to be here with so many others. But she still gets attention. She’s shown that she doesn’t need to hold the limelight to be loved and valued and cared about. She doesn’t need to Rumour anyone because her opinions are actually allowed to be listened to. Why Rumour someone when she can just state why she wants to do something, and it’ll probably be allowed.

And they got to Klaus before his addiction spiralled out of control. They take him through graveyards during the day, not to make him control his powers, but to show him that he's never alone when facing his demons. Maybe they take him to a family crypt or something and introduce him to great grandmas and shit like that. It's hard to be scared of the dark and of demons when your parents run through the forests and howl at the moon and you have friendly ghosts on your team to talk to you when things get hard.

Some pack members are super smart, and for the first time, Five isn’t the smartest in the room. He weirdly relishes it. His thoughts and opinions and desires are listened to as well, and whenever he’s told no, he actually listens to why that is. Instead of treating him like a little asshole, they encourage his love of learning.

And then there’s Ben... Werewolf Parents: Now, Ben, we all have difficult things inside of us to control. Let's work on that and, also, on loving that beast inside us. 😌 Ben learns to control the Horror and it becomes like a giant swing and like, all the pack kids wanna be swung around by the Horror.... Cue pictures of the Horror with little ribbons wrapped around its tips or some bizarre and soft shit like that.

And finally, Vanya. Vanya, who is still Ordinary, at least at first. The Pack doesn’t mind her being on her meds, and don’t mind that she’s quiet and ordinary. There are other humans in the pack too! And they all love listening to Vanya play... Even when she’s just practicing, she usually ends up with a few people sitting there, delightedly listening in. And as time goes on, she thinks “hmm, maybe I don’t need these things for my nerves anymore... Maybe... Maybe I will be okay without them?” and Mom’s are like “well, there’s no problem if you need to go back on them, but if you want to try, we support you : )” And RUH ROH, there are powers??? HOLY SHIT. She’s mad as fuck, but instead of it being disastrous, she has loads of love and support. Like Ben, like al of the siblings, she has people there to help her learn how to manage her powers, and her emotions.

The kids are just totally loved upon and cherished and have someone there for them all the time.

And let’s not even get started on pack cuddles. actually, no, let’s.

Reggie used to be a real cunt about the kids and their need for contact. I mean, sure, they still tried to sneak into each others rooms for platonic cuddles all the time, but they sure as hell paid for it. And now?? Now, they can cuddle as much as they fucking want. Oh, Ben, Diego and Klaus wanna snuggle together every night? No worries, kids! We’re just gonna get you all a bigger bed and we can turn one of the bedrooms into a study or something. And slowly, there are just... entire pack cuddles. Allison has a bad day, and Klaus tugs her into the pile. And Luther sees and... Snuggles up behind her. Vanya, who is getting better at not being left out, who is more confident in herself, doesn’t fight when Allison brings her in. And Five? Five pretends he’s only there for Vanya, but they all know it’s a lie.

But they don’t call him on it.

Anyway. I’m just very here for a nice pack of werewolves adopting my babies, and them growing up happy and well-adjusted, and loved, and-----*record screeches to a halt*

DIEGO LOVES HIS NEW MOMS. BUT HE MISSES GRACE SO MUCH T.T

....So the Umbrella Academy band together for one final mission: to Mom-nap Grace.

It’s all very dramatic. I haven’t seen Spy Kids since I was, what, 13, but I’m gonna pretend it’s like that. They Mom-nap Mom, and she goes happily because she’s missed her babies and she gets to join the snuggle pile too. She loves helping out her new family too! And she learns new recipes and shares some of her own! Mom is happy too because LET GRACE BE HAPPY.

Anyway, they grow up happy, and well-adjusted.

And still as incestuous as fuck.

Like, that still happens in every universe.

And the wolf pack are like *chinhands* because like. Whatever.

/END

[telekinsesis]

"🎭The Masked Autistic Quiz🎭

If you’ve spent your life ‘faking normal, you might not look autistic to the casual observer. So I’ve made a questionnaire that’s tailored to the masking autistic adult.

#ActuallyAutistic #AllAutistics"

1. Have you ever felt as if you were missing the built-in instruction manual that everyone else seemed to possess?

Yes. I had to slowly learn how basic things worked while others seemed to instinctively get it.

Did you spend an inordinate amount of time learning to copy the behavior of other kids so that they wouldn’t realize you were different?

Yes. I always just wanted to fit in and have friends and be liked, but I always felt different than them.

2. Are you able to make eye contact, but would much rather NOT make eye contact? Have you taught yourself to ‘cheat’ by looking between the eyes or at the eyebrow? Does eye contact make it harder to think clearly?

I can't handle eye contact for longer than a couple of seconds. Most of the time I find a way to avoid it, I can only remember doing it in stare contests with my sister or for comedic purposes.

3. When you’re alone do you make random noises or repeat interesting words to yourself? Do you move your hands or feet because staying still feels ‘wrong?’ Bonus points if you do this around other people.

I'm always shaking/bouncing my leg. Sometimes I hold my breath for no reason or find myself making involuntary noises with my throat. Every once in a while I also say random things.

4. Do people refer to you as a ’space cadet’ or a ‘day-dreamer’, even though those terms make no sense to you? Do you appreciate unusual things like constellations in the popcorn ceiling, tricks of light, numbers and textures?

I am always daydreaming or spacing out, I would be more called out for it as a teen than I am now. / I don't find those things unusual but I love noticing them and the little details about it, I do appreciate it.

5. Do your anxiety levels spike when there is a change of plans, or when somebody calls, rings a doorbell or sends an email/text? Do people perceive you as rude and antisocial for being unappreciative of their surprise attacks?

Yes, yes, yes. Unless it's someone I deeply trust (sometimes not even then though), sudden changes of plans or routine upset and stress the hell out of me. Phone calls can give me anxiety and sometimes I need a lot of time to reply to a simple text.

6. Do you have a hard time understanding why people feel the way they do without a personal point of reference? Are you able to relate much more once you’ve tied their experience to something that’s happened to you?

I can't remember or realize if I do, but I do know that I'm better at "empathizing (?)" when I relate to the situation in one way or another. My closest friends are people I share similar experiences/feelings with and we can get each other.

7. Do people jokingly call you ‘OCD’ for your organizational strategies or list making, even though there are perfectly rational reasons for your behavior? Does this ‘obsessive’ behavior also bring you a sense of calm and order when you’re allowed to see it though to completion?

Not really, but my sister who's a psychologist thinks I have "obsessive/compulsive traits" or whatever because of how often I wash my hands. I also enjoy organizing my saved files, even if it takes me hours, and feel much better when they are.

8. Do you have social anxiety, but only because you have a hefty track record of rejection due to missed social cues, difficulty navigating conversations and an inability to understand what other people are thinking?

I have been diagnosed with social and generalized anxiety but I don't know why, it's just my brain. I do remember it starting/getting worse when I got to high school, around the same time my depression kicked in.

9. Do you avoid places because of the overwhelming noise, visual clutter, bright lights or overwhelming smells? Do you avoid busy stores and do your shopping when things aren’t as busy?

I don't go out a lot overall, I like staying home better. I don't know the exact reason why and when I go out it's hardly ever to packed loud places because I'm very introverted, but I also hate when people talk too loudly 90% of the time.

10. Do you have a built-in ‘BS detector’ and despise playing along with things that infantilize you? Have people said you’re ‘not a team player’ for complaining about pointless gift exchanges or parties? Do you need to understand the purpose of a task?

Yes. I don't complain but I don't participate either, again, I'm very anxious and introverted so unless I feel comfortable with those people, I don't like socializing much. I don't remember ever doing tasks without purpose, I don't think they exist in the first place, everything has a purpose.

11. When you get happy and excited, do people say you’re ‘too much’ or tell you to calm down? Are you unusually animated when genuinely excited, yet find it hard to fake this enthusiasm on demand for others?

When I'm in a good mood, I'm in a good mood. When I was younger and participated in things I was passionate about I would get told to tone it down and be less "loud" or "annoying" because the way I expressed my excitement was too extra. I found it easier to blend in and calm myself externally after called out.

12. Do you feel so closely connected to your hobbies that you can blissfully engage in them for hours and have a hard time stopping for anything else? Does losing interest in them make you feel as if you’ve lost a part of yourself?

Yes, definitely, yes.

13. Is driving a stressful and exhausting experience for you? Do you tend to take the same familiar route every time and even go so far as to avoid stressful intersections and fast highways? Do you struggle making quick decisions behind the steering wheel?

I don't drive.

14. Do you feel as if you relate to animals more than other people? As a child, did you secretly suspect that you were from another planet or species than that of your classmates? When meeting someone similar to yourself, do you feel like you’re ‘home’, so to speak?

I relate more to cats than people I know. I still do, even though I rationally know it's impossible, kinda. It's not very often but yes.

15. Do you abhor the idea of making conversation with people who share nothing in common with you? Would you happily go out of your comfort zone to talk with others about a shared hobby or passion?

My classmates gave me anxiety but I would talk for hours with one of my sister's friends because she liked classic movies too.

16. Do people assume you’re angry at them when you’re not? Do you smile or laugh inappropriately, upsetting others? Have people told you that you have a ‘resting bitch face’?

I have been asked multiple times if I was okay or if I was sad when I was nothing of the sort, but maybe I was simply depressed? I remember laughing and then realizing it wasn't a good moment but I don't remember it happening a lot or why I did it.

17. Do you have an unusually monotonous or singsong voice? Do you have a hard time modulating your volume and speak with inappropriate volume for the situation?

I don't know, I don't think so but I constantly do get called out for not speaking clearly or mumbling or talking too low or fast even when I think I'm being clear or think it's possible to understand me regardless.

18. Have you purposely chosen interests that fly under the radar as ‘normal’, yet you still prefer to enjoy peripheral aspects of that interest, such as studying the stats of baseball players or making elaborate backstories for your Barbie dolls?

As a kid I would create novelas around my Barbie dolls, when I made pillow forts with my friends I would create dramatic/tragic stories and wanted to act them out with them. Currently I don't "choose" interests or care about how "normal" they appear, I'm just naturally invested in things.

19. Do you find it inordinately difficult to listen to someone when other people are talking? Do you have a hard time carrying on a conversation in a loud or crowded place?

I don't know but I don't think so, when a person is loud enough I can hear them over other noises, even if it's by a little. Again, I don't usually go to loud or crowded places so I can't remember.

20. Do emotions and sensory overload build up into a thunderstorm of rage that you have no choice but to ride out until it passes? This might be a meltdown. Alternately, does the buildup result in you retreating from the world and ‘zoning out’? This would be a ‘shutdown’.

Yes.

21. While not officially criteria, this is something that many autistics will relate to: Do gender, romantic and sexuality norms seem arbitrary and fake? Even if you don’t identify as LGBTQ+, do you hesitate when referring to yourself as cisgender or heterosexual?

I'm a lesbian that questions her sexuality at times and have no idea what my gender is, I just know I'm not cis.

22. Have you developed coping mechanisms such as lists, schedules, stacks of paper, alarms and reminders to help you function as an adult? Would you still be able to get by without them?

I'm currently not doing anything that requires me functioning like an adult and don't remember what I did when I had to but I would never be able to be an adult.

23. Do you go through periods where you can’t even remember how to make dinner or get ready for work, and even the easiest of tasks seem insurmountable because you can’t fathom completing the steps to completion?

I don't forget how to do things but I can forget to do them or it's almost impossible to bring myself to physically do them.

24. Do you find it easier to do things when they’re a passion or ‘special interest’? Were you good at cooking/gardening/organizing when it was interesting, but find it impossible to start once the passion has abandoned you?

Always. I have abandoned many projects once I lost interest even if I was somewhat good at it at the start.

25. Do you have a hard time recognizing or remembering faces? While not all autistics are ‘face blind’ many of us are.

I don't think there are many faces I need to recognize or remember, and I have a shitty memory anyway so I don't know.

26. Is keeping and maintaining relationships difficult for you, even if you’re loyal to them? Do you suddenly remember a good friend or relative that you literally forgot about for months or years? Is it hard to initiate conversations without a prompt, even with friends?

Yes. If I'm close and trust them, it's not hard to text them first but I don't always know what to exactly say or talk about.

27. Lastly, do you get emotional and feel ‘seen’ when reading the above tweets and other content by autistics? There might be a reason for that.

I do some and most times, but I don't wanna assume things.

[i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships]

A Slice Of My Love. Chapter 6. Wait, You Don't Think I'm Insane?

Sup children!! (No clementine my brother did not hack onto my Tumblr and write me a whole fucken chapter.) We be existing on the bean bag again. 

The farthest you will most likely see me venture is to my bed. Or a hotel. It depends how long this book goes for. I mean, we’re almost at 10 chapters. I said like 20-30 most likely. Holy shit. I’m almost ½ to ⅓ done with this book. Moving on before I go on more of a tangent than I already have!!

Pairings: Mentions of the glasses gays (it's toned down for this chapter and in chapter 7 it will be turned up to 11), Prinxiety but it’s best friend mode™ that has been preset to 11

Tw: Cursing, Fourth wall breaks (they be back, but not as bad this time), Virgil being insane, Virgil and Roman being both shippers and BFFs, the lack of sleep finally catching up to Virge, Vee thinking he has just proved a major point.

Virgil’s POV

----

Assuming that you’ve read this whole book, you already know that Pat has been overtaken by the powers of the boop™ and has gone upstairs with Logan. Logan never came back downstairs.

Roman was thinking about something. Well, I knew what that something was. You only have to be best friends with Princy for a year and a half to know what he wants to ask you.

“You wanna ask me about Alonso, don’t you?” Roman looked up at me. Then he went back to thinking.

“You know that as long as you don’t accuse me of being insane, you can ask me whatever the fuck you want.”

He looked at me again and then sat down at the table with a bowl of cereal. “Taking advantage of the fact that dad’s upstairs huh?”

The fuck? Dude, we’ve been best fucking friends for over a year now!! If you’re trying to ask me something just ask me!!

“No shit Sherlock.”

He gasped in fake surprise. “How DARE you!! I hate to inform you, but I am the prince, hence I am royalty. You do not speak to royalty in such a crude manner!!”

So the Roman stans are taking mild offense right now. I’m gonna tell you this once and once only. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN BEST FRIEND MODE™ HAS BEEN TURNED UP TO ITS PRESET NUMBER OF 11!!

Anyways, Roman stans aside, I laughed hysterically at Roman’s mocked offense. He does a really good impression of what I’d like to imagine offended Roman stans to sound like.

Ok, we’re gonna chuck the Roman stans out a window so I can actually move on from them. I decided that I was going to help Princey away from the conversation that He was trying to move away from. (I was really tempted to say spared.) The extra bitch hasn’t left yet, has it Em? (We are NOT doing this now.) Fine.

“Seeing as you’re trying to change the subject, Pat and Lo earlier.”

His face lit up at the mention of the glasses gays, as we’ve dubbed them.

“Looks like someone needs to get more sleep.” Ro did a crappy impersonation of Lo. I laughed some more.

“And don’t forget the boop™”

Roman started snickering “How did I forget the boop™? Uhh… Well, I only have 2 weaknesses: self-deprecation and affection.”

Roman was crappily imitating Pat now. I knew where Roman was going. I jumped up from my chair and ran over. Then I slowly walked by him and booped his nose.

Roman snickers turned into a bit of giggling, then he continued with our inside joke. “Never mind. I have 3 weaknesses: self-deprecation, affection and whatever Logan just did.”

I laughed even more at Roman’s shitty impression job. “Ok, you’re purposely sucking. I have accepted this challenge of sucking at doing impersonations for this joke.” I cleared my throat for the shittiest Logan Sanders impression in the history of the universe. I heard Roman mumble “Oh god” underneath his breath.

Good. You better be bracing yourself for this shitshow Princey.

“Patton, I believe that Roman and Virgil would call that a” I searched through imaginary vocab cards “boop™.”

We looked at each other and then laughed hysterically. I somehow ended up falling over in our laughter. We stopped for a moment and looked at each other again. Then laughed again, only harder this time.

Through my laughter, I managed “Stop laughing and help me you, stupid bitch!!”

He looked at me in disbelief. “You’re sitting there, on the floor, laughing, but I can’t laugh with you?” He lectured me while still giggling.

“I’m laughing at my own stupidity. Only I can laugh at myself.”

“Whatever. I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one!”

The laughter had died down quite quickly after that. Roman helped me up off the floor. We walked to the couch and sat down.

Well… more he sat down, I lay down, and he was my footrest. It’s an us thing.

“Do you always have to put your feet on me, Virge?”

I scoffed and looked at him in disbelief. “Do I have anywhere else to put my feet? No. Do I want you to sit on my feet? No. Do I want to sit up? No. Do I want to move to the other couch? No. Are you my prisoner now? Yes.”

He laughed a little more. I could tell that he was thinking that I stole his job of being the dramatic one.

We sat there in comfortable silence. The only thing keeping it from being awkward was the light and playful atmosphere. I have no clue about you guys, but with a best friend that you’re almost always loud with, silence is just weird and awkward. (This is a thing with me and my best friend. Normally we just randomly quote Charlie the Unicorn at that point.) 

I decided that I needed to bring up the inevitable.

“You gonna ask me about Alonso any time today? I already told you. You can ask me. I trust you.”

He thought for a moment. “Umm…. Well…. What does he look like?”

I snickered a little bit. “Wow. You’re THAT scared that you’re going to offend me?”

He didn’t share my laughter.

“Oh, umm…. Kinda like Remy, but without the stupid sign that says sleep. But like Remy mixed with someone else. I can’t put my finger on who though.” Roman hummed in response. Then he got a mischievous grin on his face.

OH SHIT!! ROMAN DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE.

He dared though.

“So is he hot?”

I looked at him with my most serious “Bitch what the fuck?” face and asked him a simple question: “Roman, you’re my best friend and I love you (platonically), but why are you like this?”

He looked back at me with a “Bitch what the fuck?” face as well. “Because I’m the literal embodiment of Thomas’ romance. And as your best friend, I want you to find love.”

“That wasn’t cheesy at all Ramen.” I snickered a little bit at the Ramen part. Roman absolutely HATES the nickname Ramen. But he’s still Ramen.

“Don’t think Ramen’s going to get a reaction out of me. It’s not. I’m totally fine with that nickname now.”

My mind went to Someone Gets Hurt Reprise from Mean Girls as soon as Ro Ramen said fine. “REALLY FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!! GO BE FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEN!!!”

Roman picked up on the reference and finished the song. “And I want my pink shirt.”

I joined him for the extra part that we add every time we sing/listen to that song.

“HE BROUGHT UP THE PINK SHIRT!! AND YOU KNOW THAT SHIT HAS HIT THE FAN ONCE YOU BRING UP THE PINK SHIRT!!!” We laughed hysterically once more.

Once our laughter had died down again, Roman got serious again. Ish.

“Are you gonna tell me if Alonso is cute or not?”

I couldn’t escape this conversation now. “I don’t know. I guess? You know that this isn’t really my department. It’s like 110% yours.”

He snickered a little bit. “So like, when did you notice him?”

I told him the story. “So Pat was lecturing me about how I should be sleeping and all that bs. I wasn’t really listening because of the hypocrite card. I was staring at the counter and he was just sort of chilling there. Existing.”

I looked at Ro to see his “Vee you’re insane” face but it never came, so I continued.

“Then after Pat went upstairs to get Logan. Alonso, at this point in time I didn’t know his name so I was just referring to him as ‘the counter guy’ in my head, started talking to me by quoting Heathers. I was quoting the scene that he started when Pat and Lo came downstairs. They told me that I was being crazy and that there was only a piece of bread. That’s why I thought that you’d think I’m crazy too.”

Roman looked at me. No discernible emotion could be seen on his face. It was kinda scary. He just told me “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

It took me a moment to comprehend that. “You don’t?”

“At least I think that.”

I didn’t fully think out what I was about to do before I did it. That’s very unusual for me. Might I remind you that I was running on two cups short of a full pot of coffee (Pat and Lo drank them) and like 2 hours of sleep?

I lept off the couch, grabbed Roman’s hand and dragged him up the stairs. Once I got to Pat’s room I kicked the door down. We were greeted with the sight of the glasses gays cuddling on Patton’s bed watching a movie.

After I kicked the door down they looked up at me in shock. Still cuddling though, so that’s a bonus.

Pat spoke first. “Virgil, please tell me why you just kicked down my door.”

I could hardly contain my excitement. I moved to the side a little bit and pulled Roman forward. “RoMaN sAyS i’M nOt CrAzY!!!”

Logan looked at Roman “Roman, please explain.”

Roman looked down at his feet. “Well, do I have a story for you guys.”

----

This chapter is the longest by far. The actual chapter part went over 3 pages. That’s a first.

Anywho. I really liked this chapter. It was quite fun to write. However, the next one will be even more fun to write. The glasses gays turned up to 11. God am I gonna have a ball with the next one.

Chapter 7 will most likely be next week. We’re going to Chicago and it’s a 3-hour drive there and back. I write on my laptop which will be left at home, and I don’t have a phone to write on soooo….. I get to listen to Heathers and Mean Girls mass amounts of times though.

                                            The existing internet writing human,

                                                              Em

----

Taglist (if you’d like to be added/removed please inform me): @winterswishing-reblogs @thetomorrowshow @just-some-gt-trash @iixclementine

[wilhelmjfink]

The Great Divide - Chapter 1

Summary: As bitter as she was, all Riley Herrington ever wanted to do was help. She’d always figured it stemmed from some innate desire to prevent people from feeling the same way toward the world that she did. And, as Daryl had told her a hundred times, people are not to be trusted and one day she’d run into the wrong person and learn pretty quickly that her confidence in strangers would get her into a lot of trouble. They both knew he was right. He was just trying to teach her before it was too late for her to learn.

Warnings: swearing and violence. don’t be a little bitch.

A/N: omfgg it’s here!!!!! i know that literally nobody is excited about this BUT I AM AND THATS ALL THAT MATTERS SO THANKS FOR COMING EVERYONE!! this is my very first series and features my very first OC and thank you to @crossbowking for always being my #1 fan and editor and hypegirl and inspo and i love you!!! BONUS POINTS TO WHOEVER CAN FIGURE OUT WHAT VIDEO GAME IT’S BASED OFF OF AND WHAT SONG IT’S TITLED AFTER (hint it’s literally in this first chapter)

i don’t own anything except Riley so don’t sue me. also we’ve already established how bad i am at like past and present tense and all that jazz?? i was in honors college shame on me (I dropped out)

enjoy xoxo

Next Chapter

“Never should’a went after that woman.”

Daryl used the heel of his boot to jam the shovel further into the dirt before hoisting loose a pile up and over his shoulder. Digging graves always seemed to put him in a poor mood. Understandably.

So Riley observed him quietly, standing knee deep in her own trench, pondering a response to his blunt statement.

Eventually, she muddled out the only excuse she could ever muster up: “I was just trying to help...”

This time, though, Daryl wouldn’t accept it and tossed his shovel down carelessly onto the ground at his feet before tearing off his gloves and wiping the sweat from his forehead. The heat made him cranky too, she thought. Not a great combination of things.

“That’s all yer ever tryin’ to do, Ri! Don’t ya get it? People ain’t to be trusted. People will kill you. Hell, they’ll do worse things than kill ya, and make ya wish you was dead anyway!”

She flinched visibly at his outburst, taking the brunt of it knowing it was well deserved. But, still... her intentions has been good. Wasn’t there something to be said for that?

Daryl continued. “I know yer smart girl, but god damn if ya don’t act right stupid sometimes.”

Narrowing her eyes, she jabbed her own shovel into the soft ground beside her and leaned onto it. “I’m not stupid, Daryl.”

“Didn’t say ya were stupid, just said ya act like it sometimes.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes away from him and, once again, found herself reflecting on his words. He was absolutely right — that hadn’t been the first time that she’d tried to help someone only to be burned by them in the end, and it definitely wasn’t the first time that Daryl had managed to swoop in at the right time and save her ass. He always had a way of doing that. He continually, purposefully it seemed, made a point to warn her about something before appearing out of thin air to save her from that exact scenario, if only to say “I told you so.”

But nobody had been there for her back when it all began and she was hungry and lost and tired and injured. Nobody trusted her, not that she’d found many others — and the few she did run across mot only neglected to help her, they often left her in worse condition than she’d been before they’d crossed paths. It was not until she’d found Maggie and her family, all of which were more than willing to help her, and all of which were undoubtedly the reason that she was still alive.

Not to mention, all of them the reason that she’d met Daryl in the first place.

Finally, picking her next words carefully, she sighed. “Look, I.... I know. But I just.... I really want to believe that there are still good people left in the world. That’s what kept me alive, after all this started.”

It was blunt, and it was true. And then it was Daryl’s turn to soften, knowing that if he did what came instinctively and became even angrier with her it would end in a shouting match that he couldn’t stand, especially when it all initiated because he knew he’d hurt her feelings. “I know ya do, Ri. There are good people out there still — you’re one of ‘em. But ya can’t find em because bein’ good is dangerous. It’s what gets ya killed, Riley. And I ain’t gonna let you get killed by some crazy lady you offered to help ‘cause she said asked nicely n’ said ‘please’ or somethin’.”

Riley, despite herself couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t stay mad at her — there would never be an apology, but always some off handed comment or joke. Though, the same went for her, so she couldn’t boast. Regardless, he had a valid point... as he usually did. Daryl was smart, much smarter than she would ever be.

He was a survivor, and she needed to heed his advice, because sooner or later it would be the end of her.

“Yeah, yeah. You wanna hear me say it? Okay, here it is: you are right, Daryl Dixon.” And you always are.”

Riley Herrington had a mental list that she always double and triple checked before she left for a run: first her machete at her side, and then her backpack that held a canteen full of water along with a few stale protein bars, a standard first aid kit with bandages, bands for tourniquets, alcohol and sutures and more, some extra ammunition for her .22 that she always kept holstered at her side, but most importantly, the Polaroid of her and Daryl Dixon that she’d forced him to take back when they’d taken shelter in a derelict prison. He despised it and it was so blurry it was nearly impossible to see it was him, but she knew it was, and that’s what mattered to her.

Once she was sure it was all in line she securely strapped the black bag to her back and sighed, peering over the walls at the sun that was slowing making its way over the horizon. If you’d asked her five years ago if she thought she’d be ever be an early morning person, she would’ve laughed. But now, it was the only way to safely and efficiently get anything done — it seemed to be the most quiet and still part of day anymore. She’d been up for over an hour at this point, and stood patiently awaiting her friends to wake up and join her outside of the mess hall. Tara could sleep through a tornado, but Aaron always lingered around his home until the last possible minute, cherishing every moment with Eric that he had. And Riley didn’t blame him — she was lucky that Daryl never slept either, so they had all night to enjoy each others company until the sun began to rise and they had to get ready for whatever the day held for them.

Footsteps approaching alerted her to Tara, who was making her way toward her with her own bag shouldered and rifle slung across her back, yawning dramatically and rubbing the sleep from her eyes

“Mornin’, sunshine.” Riley laughed, earning her an eye roll from her friend. “You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied flatly. “Aaron?”

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two girls as they waited, Riley dropping the tailgate of the truck and hopping up on it, sitting patiently while her legs dangled off the side.

It should be an easy run — it was just slightly farther out past the town they usually travelled to. The salvageable buildings had all been picked over; all of the others were inaccessible or too dangerous to navigate through. Nobody ever knew what new terrain brought, however, and there was always an air of anxiety when branching out further and further from the safe zone.

Riley turned her head toward the sound of voices drawing closer, spotting Daryl and Aaron as they both made their way toward the front gate.

She hopped down from the truck and slammed it back shut before making her way over to the passenger side door, meeting the two men as they approached.

“Sorry,” Aaron instantly apologized and Riley held up her hand to stop him.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” she joked. “Let’s get going. You ready?”

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled in response. For as sweet as he was, Aaron was a very good guy to have on her side out on a run: he knew the area better than most and was efficient in navigating it, smart and charismatic which more often than not helped them deter themselves from getting in trouble with strangers. Riley, in the other hand, had a difficult time biting her tongue.

As Aaron rounded the truck to the driver’s side, Riley stepped up closer to Daryl, who already had worry etched into his features in the form of wrinkles on his forehead and a furrowed brow, a permanent frown on his face as he took a long drag of the cigarette he held in between his fingers.

“It takes less effort to smile, you know,” she teased him wholeheartedly the way only she could. It was ironic, considering he always mocked her for her constant resting bitch face.

But he only snorted in derision. “It don’t take me much effort to worry about ya either, Ri.”

“Don’t worry.” She pressed her body up against his and locked her fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, resting her chin on his chest to look up at him while his bright blue eyes gazed back down into her own full of nothing but worry. No matter how many runs she went on, how many times he left to go hunting, there was no way not to lose sleep over it anymore. All you could do was wait until whomever you waited for returned and hope that they came back unscathed. “I’ll be in good hands.”

“Yeah,” He exhaled a breath of smoke to the side, avoiding blowing it into her face. “I don’t want ya in anybody’s hands but mine.”

Riley laughed and pushed up on her tiptoes, planting a reassuring kiss on his lips. “You don’t need to worry about that, Dixon.”

“Jus’ be careful, alright?”

“Of course.”

“‘N come back to me.”

“Always.” She smiled at him as the truck engine roared to life behind her, giving him one more quick kiss before turning on her heels and hoisting herself up into the bed of the truck from the wheel well and settling down against the rear windows.

Tara jumped in the side and stuck her hand out of the window, balled into a fist and waiting for Daryl to match it, and smiling when he did so. “We’ll bring her back!”

“Y’all better come back, too,” he yelled back at them as they pulled up to the front gates, slipping through it and taking off down the dirt road behind it.

~

The wind whipped past Riley’s face, the briskness a pleasant relief to her summer slightly-too-sun-kissed skin and tossing her pigtail braids around. She leaned her head back against the glass pane, striving to hear the faint Breaking Benjamin song as it played quietly on the radio inside the truck.

“Are we almost there?”

“About ten more minutes,” Aaron briefly checked the map that lay across his lap. “Or ten more miles. One of the two.”

Riley heard Tara laugh and she groaned, feeling the effects of the long drive with numb limbs and feet, stretching her legs out in front of her.

The giant sports arena they’d been searching for slowly grew into sight and she knew they were getting close.

Slinging her backpack on over her shoulders, she peered around the truck, observing her surroundings as the trees and dirt roads began to turn into pavement and houses and buildings.

The truck slowed to a stop in front of a parking garage that’s steel doors were dropped and locked, graffiti littering the outsides. Next door was the Hampton Inn — the first stop of their journey today.

They were all pleased to see it relatively untouched, though sealed shut behind a hefty chain. They’d been prepared, and Aaron already had the bolt cutters in his hands.

“Do we wanna split up?” Tara asked, thumbs hooked around her backpack straps as she rocked back and forth on he heel of her red converse. She looked like an inpatient student waiting for the school bus; Riley smiled to herself.

“The hotel has — “ Aaron grunted as he squeezed the handles of the tool together and with a loud clank the chain slid through the door handles and onto the ground as his feet. “...five stories. It’s not very big, so we’ll cover a lot of ground that way.”

“I’ll get topside,” Riley volunteered as she upholstered her pistol and unclipped the mag light from her belt, holding both up poised and ready to fire while she cautiously made her way through the lobby. The long wooden registration desk stretched across the hallway and she jumped up and over, shuffling through the shelves underneath in search of keys. Of course, they were all cards now — she just hoped they still worked without electricity.

She distributed them to her friends accordingly, assuming the numbers written in sharpie on the plastic was the associated room. “Alright, that’s all of them,” she said. “Be safe.”

“You too,” they spoke in unison as they split up and separated.

The hotel was eerily untouched: cups of coffee and open books littered the end tables and ‘do not disturb’ signs still hung on door handles; Riley made a mental note to be extra careful when entering those rooms.

The first room to her left was clean, left in preparation for its next guest that would never arrive. White sheets, white comforters, white pillows, white paint. If it weren’t for the abstract colored paintings on each wall, it would look like an asylum; with its haunting glow that came from shut curtains, the lone strip of sunlight that peered in full of dust that danced around. It gave her just enough light to see into the bathroom, where she snagged the small bottles of soap and shampoo and moved on.

The next room had occupants when it was abandoned: an open suitcase that she hit with the door in the middle of the walkway, clothes and belts and shoes hanging out of it. The chair at the corner desk was tipped over and it was just as dark as the last. She could smell the decay and hear the flies but she couldn’t see around the corner to the beds, so she knocked on the wall harshly and waited for a response before she proceeded forward.

When silence answered her, she tucked her nose into her elbow and gagged — she would never get used to that smell — and eyed the rotted corpse on the bed.

Its wallet was out, drivers license up, almost as if he wanted whomever found him to identify him right away. David A. Keisel, 48, resident of Linesville, Pennsylvania.

Blood splattered the oak headboard and white wall above it, and a Barretta Storm was tucked between its occupants dark, skeletal legs.

“Nice,” she said to herself, nearing the corpse cautiously. “Sorry about this, Davey...” she carefully reached for the pistol that was still in it’s grasp, wincing at the noise his decayed fingers made upon its release.

She checked the gun then, a full magazine with an empty chamber. Thanks, Dave. It had become a common occurrence for her to take items off of dead bodies and she’d always justified it knowing that they would want someone else to use it for their own safety... right? She could probably find more ammo for it if she rifled through his suitcase...

“Help! Help me!”

Riley jumped out of her skin and had the Baretta ready to fire at the disembodied yelling. But it wasn’t close to her — in fact, it seemed to be coming from outside somewhere.

She darted out the door and made for the first emergency exit her eyes could find: a new stairwell to the right of her with a big alarm overtop, undoubtedly to go off if they door ever opened incase of a crisis. She could almost hear the alarms again, blaring amidst the panicked screaming and crying...

Five flights of stairs, guiding by the red glow of the emergency light, and she hit first floor and pushed open another door and found herself outside again, squinting in the sunlight as she tried to adjust from the darkness of the hotel.

A man with dark hair stood on the property line, staring into the woods as if he was waiting for somebody or something to emerge. Riley made her way up to him, weapon aimed, and snuck up behind him slowly and stealthily.

“Don’t move.”

The man whipped around to see her, panic written all over his face, hands automatically flying up in surrender. He didn’t look like a threat — hell, he looked pretty worse for wear actually, and Riley briefly wondered what he’d endured. Dark eyes, shaggy dark hair, dirt caked onto his skin. “Any weapons?”

The man shook his head frantically. “No, no. Please.... you have to help my wife! One of those guys got her! Please! You have—“

“Hey!” Riley snapped, twitching the gun in her hands reinforce her sternness. He eyed it nervously. “Slow down. What guys?”

“One of those guys!” He pointed to some trees and Riley strained to follow his line of sight before she spotted a body crumpled on the ground about a hundred feet away from them. “I didn’t mean to kill him, I.... I didn’t mean.... he had Laura! They took her!”

Riley hesitated and remained silent, hoping that her friends would join her and help her out, but to no prevail. If they’d started in the basement, it was likely they didn’t even hear him screaming for help in the first place.

“Please, please go help her!”

When he turned back around Riley shrugged her backpack off, back tracking and tossing it by in hotel door she’d exited through. She didn’t want this guy threatening to rob her, even if he did look weak and pathetic. People were not to be trusted anymore; she had learned that very quickly. Or she at least should have.

“Are you going to -- ”

“Shut the fuck up, and move.” Riley demanded, shoving the gun into his back once for emphasis. “Try anything funny and I’ll blow yours and Laura’s fucking heads off, got it?”

He nodded shakily and pressed on into he woods, Riley following at his heels.

“You gotta name?” She asked, barrel still pointed at his back.

“Warner,” he responded nervously.

“What’s your story, Warner?”

“Don’t have much of one,” he shrugged. “We’ve been on the go, camp to camp to camp, group to group ever since this shit started — how long has it been? Three years? Four now?”

It sounded oddly inconspicuous but at the same time, it was more common than not. “Beats me,” Riley said flatly. Truthfully, she tried not to think about it anymore. “I find it’s easier not to count the days.”

The dead body lying at the base of a tree was unlike anything she’d ever seen before: in addition to his layer of tattoos all over his face, he had red paint on his face painting some weird tribal-esque marks. Well, she hoped it was just paint...

Head shaven, he wore armor that looked like it had come straight from a video game, with small spikes protruding from his shoulder pads and a big red unfamiliar symbol painted on the front of his chest guard. Everything else was black leather or Kevlar it seemed, and even his boots had spikes on the toes.

“What the fuck?” Riley couldn’t help but stop and gawk at it, crouching down beside it to get a closer look. It reminded her of a cosplayer or some sort of reinactor — but which war had soldiers that dressed like that? “Is this what you mean by ‘those guys’? What the hell is he?”

When Warner didn’t respond, she stood up and turned around in search of him. And by the time she’d spotted him, it was too late to stop him from bringing down the rock he held in his fist, smashing it against her face. There was a sickening crunch, searing pain, and then nothing.

Tag list❤️❤️

@crossbowking @jodiereedus22 @apossiblegentleman @mtngirlforever@sourwolf-sterek32 @winchester-angel @qrangr @cole-winchester @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @twdeadfanfic @crazyaboutnorman@deliciousassafrasssandwich @bunnymother93 @96ssi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @ima-mther-fckn-starboy @thatsoragan @lonewolf471

cover image source: background daryl i am the girl on the right lmao

[shhh-no-ones-home]

irresistible steve rogers/tony stark x reader

+++++++++

I've been a girl scout most of my life and thought this would be fun to write. I was right by the way, it was. I am graduated now though so I am no longer a girl scout but I know quite a bit about it so there's some info in here that is little bit of details that go into cookie sales and what not. Anyways have fun.

Song: send me home by asking Alexandria

+++++++++

I walked up the stairs and waved to the friends in my troop. We had minimal luck selling cookies this year being that we aren't cute little girls anymore but this was our last hope. Setting up our cookie booth right at the entrance of Stark tower. Of course it took us forever to get the spot approved by council but they finally gave in after looking at our booth track record over the past few years.

We goofed off like we usually did, while selling to the big bucks executives walking down the street. Who knew we should've done this years ago while we were still cute little kids. It would've been a gold mine back in the day. As the money rolled in the more hope we had. We all wanted to go on a big trip before graduating, a trip that we sadly hadn't been able to do in years prior. I smiled and thanked the man in front of me as my friend sat in her lawn chair.

"So, do you think we'll actually get to see any avengers while we're here?"

I smiled at the people walking by before turning to look at her.

"I don't think so but if we do I think I'd die."

She stood up and dramatically fanned my face, mocking me.

"Oh no, what would we do? Captain America! Iron Man! Thor even! What hero will make her swoon today?!"

She said in a dramatic tone. I just rolled my eyes at her and nudged her to sit back down. I sat with her and we continued to laugh, the few other girls exchanging boxes for cash. Our leaders quietly talked to themselves behind us, paying us no attention as we rolled in the dough. I was mid sentence when my friends face dropped and she smacked my arm. I turned to see what she was gawking at and to my surprise both Tony and cap were walking side by side towards the building. She kept smacking my arm.

"Can you believe?"

I looked at her and laughed nervously.

"Of course not Roxanne."

We stood as they got closer to the building and watched as they slowly noticed the booth surrounded by business folk. They stepped up and cap nodded, saying hello. Tony with all his swagger greeted us with purpose.

"You ladies getting good business out here?"

I smiled widely at him.

"Yes sir, what could be more fitting than young entrepreneurs making buck in front of your building of all places?"

He smirked, letting out a sharp half laugh. He looked around at the booth for a second.

"What do we have here today ladies?"

I went down the line and explained each cookie to him, adding the prices of each at the end. he thought for a second before motioning to cap.

"Watcha think Steve? Got Anything specific you want?"

He rubbed his chin.

"If I remember correctly trefoils were big around the camps, they were easy to eat on the go."

He leaned forward with 'matter of fact' in his voice. I smiled.

"And as an added bonus we still do that, we send cases of cookies over that people buy specifically for the troops. You'd be surprised at how many people donate money just to send cookies over seas."

He had a wide smile on his face and Tony sent him a sympathetic look. He handed me a hundred dollar bill.

"Send however many cookies that'll cover."

I waved over one of the parents and relayed the message to her before turning back to him.

"Two whole cases, and an extra but whose counting."

I winked at him. Steve looked mildly confused.

"How many is that?"

"25 boxes."

He screwed his eyebrows together.

"Those were definitely much cheaper in my day."

I laughed as Tony rolled his eyes at him.

"We get it, you're an old man."

I just shook my head.

"Not quite I'd say. You're only, what, twenty? At best? At least based on your gallery at the Smithsonian. Your still practically a kid just like we are, at least, most of us. We're all 18 and 19."

He smiled like he'd won a game and crossed his arms over his chest. Tony didn't say anything but looked like he was pondering as he looked between us.

"I like you ya know that?"

I blushed and turned to look at my troop as they bickered beside me at the other business men and women.

"I appreciate that Captain, now would y'all like some cookies for yourself?"

Tony slapped another hundred on the table and went down the line. When they were done I handed them two cases, one with an extra box sat atop it.

"We appreciate your support Mr Stark. Thank you for helping your local girl scout troop."

He smiled widely and pointed from the building to the boxes and I watched as two men walked out and took the cases inside. Tony followed but cap stayed behind a second.

"I want to say that I really do like you. Not many people would've spoken up about sending cookies over seas. It's something I didn't know about until I actually went to war and it was definitely something to look forward to."

I smiled endearingly at him.

"I believe that 100%, I know its something I would miss exponentially if I had to fight over seas."

He reached out to shake my hand.

"I also want to thank you for saying something about how old I am. I think most people mistake how long I've been alive for how much experience I actually have."

I nodded.

"Of course, I mean we're close in actual mental age and I could never even imagine how you do what you do. You deserve much more recognition Steve. It's hard to lead groups of people as an actual adult much less as a twenty-somthing year old. I admire you cap."

He laughed a little to himself and rubbed his eye.

"This is probably gonna sound a little odd but could I give you my number? I would love to talk to you sometime when I'm not taking precious time away from your work."

I smiled at him and reached for my phone.

"That would be great, I can text you so you have my number too."

I handed him the phone and he quickly typed it out and handed it back to me.

"Alright, so I guess I'll talk to you later then."

I nodded.

"It's a date."

He smiled and nodded to himself before turning, waving, and walking inside. When he was out of sight Roxy grabbed my arm and shook the shit out if it.

"Bitch you just got Captain Americas number!"

I laughed.

"That's not girl scout appreciate language Roxy."

She was beyond shook.

"That doesn't matter girl you just got a date with the captain America!"

I laughed and sat with her.

"Yes, yes I do."

I looked down at his number and smiled to myself. Holy shit, I have a date with captain America.

[yukheii]

notes

notes: i’m baaaack! this is the first new set of drabbles i’m posting since reworking my blog. it was inspired by that vlive where namjoon and hobi said that yoongi randomly gave them gifts after the album release bc that was so cute

disclaimer: blanket disclaimers

KIM SEOKJIN ◦ [cr.]

You’re going to murder your boyfriend.

Kim Seokjin, who promised to wake you up nearly four hours ago, had flaked out on his duties; he let you sleep in, that son of a bitch.

“Goddamit, Jin,” you mumble, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. Jin wasn’t next to you and there was no soft singing coming from the bathroom, so he wasn’t showering or shaving. He was gone. He had gotten up, gone to rehearsals and left you to sleep in like the bastard he was.

You grab your phone and make your way to the kitchen. When you arrive, however, you find breakfast already made; your favorite prepared carefully and left under a glass roofing, a pink, heart-shaped sticky note attacked to it.

I know you wanted me to wake you up, but you work yourself too hard! You deserve to sleep in every once in a while. And you looked too cute to disturb, baby~~ I made you breakfast, so hopefully you forgive my handsome face. I loooove you.

Taking a look at the display again, you notice he’s even prepared your favorite drink and left a little treat on a napkin that was clearly cut with a dull edged pair of scissors to resemble a heart.

“Goddammit, Jin,” you sigh again, but this time with a smile. Well, at least now you can pretend to be mad with a full stomach. 

MIN YOONGI ◦ [cr.]

Min Yoongi considered himself to be a genius in quite a few respects. Most things concerning music were right up his alley, he’s pretty good at basketball, and he’s a good artist, rapper, brother, mentor. But above all—maybe not above music, but a close second—he is a coffee connoisseur.

Every morning that Yoongi gets up before you, he makes you a cup of coffee, just how you like it. He remembers the exact flavor and brand of creamer you pick up at the at restocks your fridge when you’re running low. He remembers the type of sugar you prefer, and even how hot you like it.

Every time you go out for coffee with Yoongi, he insists that you go grab a table while he stands in line to order. Some days he get you your usual, other days, he surprises you with new kinds of drinks. He refuses to let you get anything crappy—he’s very against blended drinks or fraps of any kind from Starbucks, claims they’re “a sugary mess for imbeciles” and that you are “a couple of coffee connoisseurs who will not stoop to the level of a unicorn frap.”

Some days Yoongi is running late and he doesn’t have time to make you coffee. When that happens, he leaves money on the counter with a small note in rushed handwriting and a cute picture of two mugs: “Sorry I couldn’t get your coffee, love. Buy yourself a cup (and please, do not get a vanilla bean frappucino or I will be forced to divorce you when we get married).”

You roll your eyes, because no where in the world does a single cup of coffee cost twenty bucks, but grab the money anyway. You take up the note too, and add it to your collection.

(Yoongi doesn’t know you keep them, but it’ll make a good edition to your montage video at this eventual wedding).

JUNG HOSEOK ◦ [cr.]

Hoseok takes way more showers than the average person.

You suppose it’s because of all the dancing he does—he showers every morning when he gets up, every night he comes back from practice, sometimes he even showers in the middle of the day because he says he likes “feeling clean.”

His favorite kind of showers, though, are the ones where you’re involved. No sexual endeavors requires (although they are certainly a bonus); he simply likes holding you while water pours over your bodies. He likes washing your hair (if and when you let him), likes using a loofa to soap up your body and detaching the shower head to rinse you off properly. But around the time the boys have a comeback or are attending award shows, those kinds of showers don’t happen often.

So when Hobi’s forced to shower alone, he always leaves you a note in the mirror afterwards. Carves out hearts, doodles, confessions in the fog of mirror above the sink. Sometimes he even kisses the mirror for good measure.

You have to let the water run for a bit before you jump in, but it’s always worth it to see Hobi’s message appear like heated invisible ink when the bathroom becomes slightly steamy.

Today it’s simple—I love you—written in a lopsided heart and Hoseok’s lip-print off to the side. There’s an arrow pointing to where his mouth was and a message written above it: “kiss me:)”

And even though you feel stupid, it’s not like anyone can see you, right? So you lean over the sink slightly, give the mirror a kiss in the prints of Hobi’s lips and smile.

KIM NAMJOON ◦ [cr.]

Namjoon likes to put his brain power to work when he leaves sticky notes around your apartment. 

Most of the time they’re fun facts—some obscure tidbit of knowledge that the average person wouldn’t know or even care to know, but you find them endearing. It’s like Namjoon shares a little piece of his mind with every sticky note he leaves behind.

Other times, they’re riddles meant to leave you pondering all day. He makes you swear not to Google the answer; you’ve got three chances to text him with your guess. If you answer incorrectly, he’ll reveal it to you when he gets back, only after you’ve kissed him, of course. 

It’s cute. A strange, nerdy kind of cute. A Namjoon kind of cute. 

Sometimes the facts or riddles aren’t historical or mind-boggling or scientific at all. Sometimes they’re cringey, borderline embarrassing if anyone else ever found them. 

“Fact #6183: I love you more than life itself.”

And sometimes, you leave him a note in return. You always put it on the door, so it’s the first thing he sees when he comes home from a long day of hard work.

“Fact #6184: I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.”

PARK JIMIN ◦ [cr.]

Jimin likes texting you. Scratch that, Jimin’s favorite pastime in the entire fucking world is texting you.

Jungkook jokes that he would dive across the entire dance practice room on his stomach when his phone pings at the odds that he’s received a message from you.

He’s bolder behind the screen that he is in person. He likes to send you suggestive texts and imagine your flustered face when you promptly send back his names in all caps and too many exclamation marks. He likes the way you use the same four emojis over and over again. He likes that just talking to you can brighten his day.

So, Jimin doesn’t know if they necessarily count as notes, but every single day since you’ve started dating, he texts you good morning along with a picture of himself. And if he forgets, he still passes along the delayed message.

JM [RECIEVED 7:54PM]: GOOOOOOOOOOOOODD MORNING BABY

YN [SENT 7:55PM]: Jimin what the hell????? It’s almost 8pm?????

JM [RECIEVED 7:55PM]: It’s a pre-good morning text for tomorrow :(( it’s never too early to start your day

He says he does because he likes your responses. (He does it because he likes you).

On the occasion that you both sleep in, he still remembers. He’ll even text you good morning when he’s seated directly beside you as you both share breakfast.

JM [RECIEVED 6:43AM]: I love you so much babyyyyyy

KIM TAEHYUNG ◦ [cr.]

Taehyung likes to leave his notes to you on the back of receipts.

And no matter how long you continue to date him, coming home to a gift box with contents worth thousands of dollars is not something you’ll get used to. Lavish foreign dishes, pricey portraits, and custom furniture all tailored to your liking.

Because Taehyung loves fashion and Taehyung loves you; he likes seeing his two loves together. He likes sharing himself with you.

No matter how much you expressed that you didn’t need all of his gifts, Taehyung wasn’t nearly as into returning things as he was into buying them. Hence, today’s debate over a pair of silk pajamas that you insisted you didn’t need, but Taehyung was vehement about you keeping.

“You didn’t read the note, did you?” He frowns, shifting through the packaging tissue to fetch the receipt.

He hands it you, you notice the sneaky little bastard has crossed out the price again, and you flip it to find his handwriting on the back: “No takesies backsies, because now we’re twinsies!!!!!!”

When you take another good look at the pajamas, you realize the familiarity you’d sense was not falsely attributed, as Taehyung had the exact same pair in dark blue. You look up to his grinning face, his large hands now holding and extending your new pajamas. You take this as a sign he wants you to put them on.

“Tae, it’s not even my birthday or—”

“Ah, ah, ah! I declared no takesies backsies, already, so you have to put them on!”

JEON JUNGKOOK ◦ [cr.]

Being away from Jungkook was never easy. His presence is an odd mix of comforting and reserved and vibrant and calm; it’s easy to notice when he’s gone. There’s no screaming when he dies in a video game, there’s no soft humming around the house, there’s no constant pleading for food, there’s no body on the left side of the bed.

And Jungkook thinks being away from you is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. You take care of him, you care about him. You’re his silly, beautiful, amazing girlfriend who he loves a lot. If it were up to him, he’d be around you as much as he wants, whenever he wants.

But, alas, touring takes Jungkook away from you, and you away from Jungkook. So, out of fear that he might shrivel away and die if he doesn’t receive contact from you at least three times a day, Jungkook leaves his notes in the form of random reminders on your phone.

And try as you might, there’s no way to be prepared for them. Most days, they’re dramatic and extra, but truth be told, you didn’t expect any less from Jungkook.

REMINDER: JEON JUNGKOOK IS BUT A POOR FARM BOY WHOSE FATHER LEFT HIM NO ESTATE, IF YOU DO NOT CONTACT HIM AND TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM TODAY, HE WILL HAVE LOST THE ONE THING THAT WAS KEEPING HIM GOING.

Others get the message across, but of course, because it’s Jungkook, are portrayed in a less… classic sort of confession.

REMINDER: I LOVE YOU BITCH, I’M NEVER GONNA STOP LOVING YOU BITCH

On the rare occasion that he knew he’d be feeling particularly vulnerable, or he had stolen your phone while you were sleeping and was distracted by just how much he loves you, he leaves softer notes. Something to let you know that behind all the jokes and drama is heart of gold.

REMINDER: i love and miss you so much.