#one cruddy hot dog

[swaggerz]

I'm the kind of bitch to cry when you go to a food restaurant I've been gushing about for like a week and then don't bring me back any food because I didn't go with you to target.

[icybreaths]

|| @characternerdocs || continued from here ||

Logan eyed the dripping coffee as she took the opposite seat of the ranger. She had a  thermos of her own dirty bean water, which was probably lukewarm by now, nowhere near the hot, fragrant, fresh pot that was brewing now.

But she wasn’t sent here to sample the local coffee. (She make that her second priority.)

She dragged her backpack in front of her feet as she began to rummage through its content, the dog that accompanied her attentively watched, perhaps in hopes Logan would produce a treat, or perhaps a toy. “Well, my assignment at your park was based on the odd and unexplained activities. But rangers being drunk, while not my area to looking to... isn’t ideal to hear.” As she straightened up in her seat once finding her documents, the hair the hung over the right side of Logan’s face shifted and for a fleeting moment the ranger could see the pink scarring where her eye had once been.

Logan handed over her licenses, ranging from calling her an anthropologist, a cryptozoologist, to a field researcher all of which were stamped and authorized by a Smithes Scholars’ Archives. “I hope that’s proof enough I’m not a fanatic.” A coy smirk raising her scarred lips as Logan reaches back into her bag. In truth Logan would call herself a fanatic, it still seemed strange and unreal to her she was employed to invested and study what “normal” people regarded as fakery and myth; finding proof in the legends her grandmother told her at bedtime. it was unbelievable, but Logan loved it. Still smiling to herself, she pulling out a pen and notebook, and a doggy biscuit she tossed to her now very pleased dog.  

“And you can call me Logan, if you like. And you? are you a stickler for the formality of Ranger Stone?”

“Hardly, it’s just the card I play ta new faces ta gauge ‘em.” Thankfully, Logan didn’t seem like she walked with a stick up her ass. “You’n call me Jewel.”

At a glance, one would think Jewel barely read through the files, but despite her casual leafing she skimmed with a careful eye. The information matched up with the agency Boss reached out to. “Looks good ta me, Logan.”

Handing the agent her files, Jewel stood and scooped her bottle up. She passively wondered what happened to her eye but thought it better not to ask. They’d only just met and it really wasn’t any of her business. Best to not delve into the personal lives of strangers, she concluded to herself.

“I s’pose we’ll get started then. Follow me.”

In her office, alphabetically organized files filled the wooden shelves that lined her walls at either side. Heading left, she knelt down to the S section and pulled its container out. “This’s the past happenin’s of supernatural occurrences this year. Some are jus’ reports from tourists but we got some in there from our own officers ‘ere as well. Some of ‘em got photos but don’t hold yer breath. A snow-caked fir and a yeti look pretty similar when all ya got’s adrenaline and a cruddy flashlight in the dead a’night.”

Plopping the file bin on her desk, Jewel parked it in her big, comfy chair and gave it a swivel as she perched a boot up on her work station. Gifting herself a long drag off her bottle, she gestured at the opposing bookcase. “You’n peek through those too. That one’s lined with missing persons and murders over the last century or so. Some of ‘em are… somethin’.”

“Matter fac’,” She added, “I should get on filin’ a report a’my own. Somethin’s been fuckin’ with my trail markers and I’ve about had it with whatever shit-stirrer’s out there. Human, creature, whatever. Need it gone because it’s makin’ my life a frostier hell than it needs ta be!”

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Without You

From an anonymous ask: “I love your writing and I just love Shane and Molly! I was wondering if we could see a little more of them in their element? Might be cheesy but perhaps Shane is powering through a flu at work and Molly comes back from vacation or something to see him doing that and tries to make him stop idk”

I have injured my back and am reduced to lying on the cough most of the day for now, so what better time to clean out some asks? And of course I can’t resist writing about my two faves. Here’s a little drabble I’ve been imagining for a while, set about a year after they get married. Also based on this post.

See my master post list for more Shane and Molly!

Molly peeked through the door of the waiting room to make sure the coast was clear. Shane was nowhere to be seen, so she crept in, unable to resist the urge to tiptoe. She made eye contact with Carol, the office manager, and they shared a smile. In fact, Carol looked relieved to see her. 

“I thought you weren’t going to be back until tomorrow,” the motherly woman said.

“The weather was going to be bad for traveling today, so I left early. Shane doesn’t know, I wanted to surprise him.”

“He’ll be thrilled to see you. He’s been missing you.” Carol glanced at her computer for a moment.  “He’s seeing his second-to-last patient now. You can wait in his office if you want.”

“Perfect. How’s he feeling?”

The older woman rolled her eyes. “He’s miserable. Sick as a dog. No one will go near him because he’s sneezing all over the place. I’m amazed none of the patients have complained.”

Molly rolled her eyes too. “Sounds about right. Thanks, Carol.”

“Any time.” The pair shared a wink, and when Carol gave her the all clear, Molly crept into Shane’s office. She watched through the cracked door as her husband emerged from one exam room and headed in the direction of another. Rather than his usual shirt and tie, he was wearing scrubs today with a dark, waffle knit shirt underneath. As he passed her door, he raised a hand to his face, pressing a used tissue to his red, dripping nose. He dabbed at it gingerly with a pained expression, sniffling thickly several times before knocking on the exam room door, entering, and shutting it behind himself as he greeted the patient within. It had been a brief glimpse, but she’d seen all she needed–he was clearly miserable. 

Molly had been down south visiting her family for the past week, but of course she and Shane had Facetimed every night. The past few days, Shane had been coming down with a cold, and he was not handling it well. He was tired and achy and congested, but refused to rest, saying a cold was no reason to cancel his clinic hours, and from afar, Molly couldn’t convince him otherwise. 

She was sitting on the edge of his desk, kicking her legs and looking at the wall art when he finally appeared. The look on his face when he saw her was exactly what she had hoped for, and he rushed to embrace her, lifting her up to swing her around. 

"Surprise!" she laughed, nuzzling into his embrace. "I came back early and couldn't wait to see you."

“Best surprise ever. I missed you so much,” he murmured, burying his face in her neck. 

She squeezed him back tightly. “Missed you too. How are you feeling?"

"Ugh. Cruddy." He rubbed his sleeve under his nose as if to prove his point. "Just sick and gross."

"You're like… all sweaty. Are you sure you're okay?"

"It's from wearing two layers… but I've been either too hot or too cold all day."

She clucked her tongue sympathetically. "Poor doc. Anything I can do?"

"Hang on…." Shane brought his elbow up to his face and turned away from her, just in time to catch a trio of sneezes. He pulled his arm away with a tired sound, sniffling and hazy-eyed. 

"Bless you, hon. You sound so sick you poor guy." She went to embrace him again, but he kept her at arm's length.

"Wh-- wait…." he gasped, his eyebrows climbing to his hairline again as his breath hitched, and he buried his face into his sleeve for another sneezing fit. He glanced at the after effects on his sleeve when he finished, making a face at what he saw. "Glad I didn't wear anything nice today," he muttered. 

"Bless you again. What am I going to do with you?" Molly sighed, reaching up to caress his check, wiping away a few stray tears with her thumb. 

"Take me home and let me lay in your lap while you play with my hair?" he asked hopefully.

She giggled. "That's a given. But if you're still like this tomorrow, you're cancelling your patients, and I'll baby you some more at home instead. You're a walking germ factory right now."

Shane rolled his eyes scrubbing his wrist under his nose again. "We'll see about that. My rule is, no fever, no time off."

"You look like you need some time off though. You never see patients looking so frumpy."

"Frumpy!" He feigned shock. "My wife doesn't see me for a week and the first thing she does is insult my appearance. Cut me to the quick, why don't you?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Well I'm not about to lie to you. You look frumpy. And sick. And like you should be at home."

He leaned against his desk with a shrug. "I don't want Carol to have to reschedule so many patients." 

"But I'm sure she also doesn't want to catch your cold, and neither do all your patients."

"I've been careful. Besides, I'm pretty sure I got this cold from Carol in the first place," he said peevishly, crossing his arms. 

Molly couldn't help but laugh, embracing him again. "Did I tell you I missed you? Because I really missed you."

He cracked a smile. "You did. But I'll take it again." Even as he spoke, his eyes were going hazy, drifting shut as his elbow went to his face once again, just before he bent himself over at the waist with another sick-sounding trio of sneezes.

"God *bless* you," Molly tsk'ed. 

"... Thanks," he sighed, gingerly trying to wipe his nose yet again.

"C'mon, you," she said, wrapping an arm around his waist and grabbing his briefcase. "Let's get you out of here before you spread your germs anywhere else. You can close your charts at home while I make grilled cheese and soup."

Shane copied her embrace, enveloping her in a strong arm as he kissed the top of her head. "What would I do without you?"

"Waste away from lack of self-preservation skills, probably," she laughed, propelling them out the door.

Shane smiled too, locking his office door behind them. "I guess let's hope we never have to find out."

[his-mother-is-lightning]

We all know that Aziraphale hates customers. But I submit that he LOVES grad students.

- if asked (by Crowley, solely to fluster his Angel) he will say that it's completely reasonable to love people who want to study and discuss books? And that feeling he gets when they come and ask him for help isn't Pride no. It just so happens that having lived for millennia means he's the best primary source on the planet. It would be selfish to not share his knowledge really. Why shouldnt he feel good about helping young people learn? So it's really only lowercase 'pride' at most...

- ...I mean, it's just harmless satisfaction that he is spreading knowledge like God intended. Err, probably intended. This knowledge isnt that Forbidden Knowledge so it's fine, right? They're way past that at this point. Surely there is no objection to knowing about books?

- if you were to ask Crowley, he will point out that grad students can't afford to actually buy any books. But no one has ever asked him

- back when the shop first opened, poor Aziraphale was struggling with the realization that people might get suspicious if never lets anyone buy any of his books. And in walks in some poor, exhausted student from Kings or London University who has spent the last 10hrs looking in every bookstore and library around for an original copy of 'The Tamer Tamed'. So they stumble in, turn to Aziraphale and ask if he has any 17th century editions of Fletcher's work. They just need to look at it bc every copy they've found has been edited.

- does Aziraphale have a 17th century editions of Flecher's 'The Woman's Prize, or The Tamer Tamed'? What an absurd question! He has the first edition, printed in 1647. Two copies in fact, one with notes in the margins written by an early actor that Aziraphale particularly liked. It was, after all, one of Crowley's favorite plays from that period.

- (Crowley claims that he has nothing to do with the plays popularity when compared to the work it was in response to, 'The Taming of the Shrew'. Yes, he preferred the feminist-leaning work by Fletcher, but it's not his fault the audience agreed with him) [1]

- the look on this students face when Aziraphale sits them down at his desk and brings over this folio - full of relief and gratitude - have the angel feeling a bit chuffed. So much so that, as he's closing the shop for the day, he tells them to come back tomorrow if they need another look. And thus one of the great student pilgrimages of London is born

- at the beginning of each term, new students make their way to this strange, magical bookstore run by a nice, possibly-immortal man. Group visits are discouraged, as they seem to make the owner nervous.

- fellow students (and sometimes professors) warn newcomers that the owner doesn't actually want people to buy any books. But if go and tell him that you just want to look at them for a class, he will let you come and look around.

- actually, browsing isn't recommended: depending on his mood, Mr. Fell (the owner) may encourage you to look around or he may decide to suddenly close early, or find some way to get you out the door. It's always safest to ask Mr. Fell for something specific, the more obscure the better: he likes it when he has the exact thing you're looking for

- there are snakes in the shelves - well, one snake, probably. Just like Mr. Fell, this snake has been hiding in the shelves since the store opened and never ages. It loves to jump out and scare customer, but is generally considered harmless unless you damage or mistreat the books. There are numerous accounts of people being bitten for dog-earing pages, putting cups on books, and general rudeness.

note: do not refer to the snake as Mr. Fell's pet. He tends to get rather indignant if you do (Mr. Fell, not the snake. If anything, you would think the snake finds Mr. Fell's reaction amusing) Think of it as his slightly terrifying roommate who occasionally hides in the shelves or curls up by/on Mr. Fell to nap

- A. Z Fell & Co had the world's least comprehensible business hours. He could be closed for days or weeks at a time, then open 24hrs for a month without explanation. Often, he would open at 4 or 5AM then close around lunch, then open again after he finished lunch (anywhere between 1 and 4PM). There was one 11 year span when the shop was almost always closed - university's saw a drop in grades in several departments until it finally opened again. If he recognizes you, sometimes you will arrive to find the store closed, only for him to suddenly open the door and let you in because he was "just about to open up".

- Mr. Fell can easily be bribed when someone needs to stay after closing or come in early the next day. Down the block and across the street is a bakery: it has had many names over the years, but it has been supplying students with bribes in the form of cream puffs, eclairs, Turkish delights, and other sweet treats since the bookstore opened. Students scrambling before a deadline got 10 cents off their purchase.

- while he never seems to know what day it is, or what year it is (see: immortal), he always remembers when it's time for exams because suddenly the shop is open at all hours, and Mr. Fell "just so happens" to have trays of sandwiches and fruit leftover, and wouldn't they help him finish it? It'll spoil, after all. Outside food and drinks are never allowed but suddenly there are little plates and napkins on a table by the door, and stacks of strange coasters from all over the world. Coffee is not allowed but tea is. Of course, everyone knows that Mr. Fell makes the BEST hot cocoa and if you put a coaster next to you, he will bring you a mug of cocoa, always at the perfect temperature.

- as revisions comes to a close, you will find almost a dozen students at Fell & Co. They will be slumped at a desk or curled up on the floor by the windows, cups of cooling cocoa and plates of healthy snacks left in places where they couldn't spill onto the books. Colorful blankets come out of a back room as Mr. Fell tidies up, smiling fondly as he drapes them over the slumbering students

- there are stories of people whose old, cruddy laptops seem to work better in the bookshop. People listening to music (quietly, of course) may notice that the songs that come up on shuffle are always exactly what they wanted to hear. Notes you could have sworn you left at home or lost show up at the bottom of your bookbag. Documents you should have lost when your computer crashed can be recovered. One Martin Pryce insists that in 2014, he brought his broken bike to the store and when he came out again, it was fixed. He actually went up to Mr. Fell as he closed shop and asked him about it but Mr. Fell insisted he had nothing to do with it. Martin says Mr. Fell sounded like he was telling the truth, but looked very pleased and muttered something about it being a "minor miracle", which is a bit much for a bike.

- if there are a thousand stories about Mr. Fell and his bookshop, there are just as many about the man in the fancy black car who comes around sometimes. Many have speculated on the nature of the men's relationship, ranging from torrid love affairs to blackmail to Dickensian-level family drama. But the only thing you really need to know is that when you see that fancy black car parked by the shop, you best just to home. The store is most definitely closed.

1. One account survives of the audiences reactions to the two plays. 'Shrew' was performed first and was "liked". 'Tamed Tamed' was performed after and it was "very well liked". Whether or not this account is from Crawley is impossible to say.

Now with a a furiously doting Crowley sequel

Aaaand a fanfic 

[kumeko]

A/N: For Suga, who wanted a Renobowl! I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope I added enough characters/potential romance routes to more than make up for it!

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i. Cloud

It was a ridiculously stupid. Reno stood in the unfinished basement of the cruddy bar, Seven Minutes in Heaven or something. A table stood in the center of the room, multiple painstakingly handmade maps sprawled over it. The walls were covered with blinking lights and cameras that were more stylistic than functional.

 This was the great AVALANCHE’s headquarters. This was where the renegade group of morons thwarted Shinra and somehow survived to tell the tale. This was where all of their slipshod improvised plans were made.

 “This is a shitshow,” Reno muttered, leaning against the wall. How the fuck had they even once lost to these guys? It had to be luck or something equally silly. There was no fucking way it was anything else.

 Even worse? He was joining this merry band of idiots.

 Maybe he had hit his head back in the church.

“You can leave anytime you want to,” Barret growled, glaring at him over the map. The guy overprotective of everything, whether it was his daughter, the bar, or the people he worked with. It was entirely unlike Shinra’s hands-off management team. Reno almost missed the single-worded orders and lingering silence.

 “Nah, I’m good.” Reno smirked, his lips curling back as he bared his sharp teeth. It had cowed the other, lesser members of the team, but Barret didn’t so much as flinch.

 “You try anything funny, and you won’t have a choice,” he warned, before going back to his ‘plan’.

 Reno snorted. Like he hadn’t already gotten that warning from AVALANCHE’s rabid dog. He could still feel the bar digging into his back from when Cloud had pushed him against it, his grip tight on his collar. Despite his constant claims of just being a mercenary for hire, there had been a rough concern in his voice as he’d growled If you betray us to Shinra…

 Cloud’s sword was sharp, his hands strong, and it didn’t take much to imagine just what he’d do if Reno turned traitor.

 Not that he’d planned to; he’d had enough being Shinra’s lapdog. Yet, even now he could feel Cloud’s hot breath on his face, his heart racing at the possibilities. If he had reached up to grab Cloud’s collar too, if he had closed the gap between them, what would have happened? How rough would it be?

 Rude had always warned him he was self-destructive, and well, he wasn’t wrong. Across the dark room, Cloud regarded him with Mako-bright eyes and Reno could only lick his lips in anticipation.

  ii. Tifa

 “Oh great, another one to haul out. Why can’t they leave before they pass out?”

 Blearily, Reno looked up from his empty glass. At the bottom was a drop or two of gin, and he pressed his lips against the rim as he tried to force them down.

 “Oh, you’re awake.”  

 Remembering the voice, he looked up. Standing across the bar, a pretty brunette eyed him wryly as she pried his glass away from him. His hand instantly clenched, but it was too late, she’d slipped it out too fast. There was something about her build, about the muscles on her arm and the smooth way that she didn’t so much as walk as flowed across the floor that reminded him about something. It was like a fighter’s. Or a dancer’s. Both were common enough in this town.

 “Youree hot,” he slurred, trying to reach over and take it back. He smirked at her; it worked about half the time, if he was lucky.

 Unfortunately, he wasn’t lucky today. She sighed, rolling her eyes as she set the cup down behind her. Walking around the bar, she wrapped an arm around his waist and hoisted him up. Immediately, he corrected his previous guess. She was definitely a fighter. That strength was no dancer’s, all muscle and little finesse. He was certain she could toss him over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

 “You should take me home,” he leered. No one could claim he knew when to quit.

 She wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes, clearly used to this sort of talk. Opening the door, she hauled him outdoors. As usual, the slums smelled like coal dust and shit, but her whiskey scent cut through it. He was half drunk on it. “You smell good.”

 The bartender rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, where should I drop you off?”

 “My place then?” You couldn’t claim Reno knew when to quit.

 For his efforts, he was promptly deposited on the hard ground. Swiping her hands against each other as though to wipe off her germs, she firmly replied, “I’m sure you can make it back on your own.”

 Reno chuckled, getting up on wobbly feet. “Tomorrow then?”

 At her responding glare, he laughed the entire walk back.

   iii. Barret

Reno couldn’t tell you why he’d decided to suddenly help AVALANCHE. It certainly wasn’t one of those good reasons, like pity or kindness. It certainly wasn’t self-preservation either—if he wanted to live, he should have stuck with Shinra. The man owned almost all of the city and had more than enough connections everywhere else to make life uncomfortable.

 Then again, Reno had never claimed to be exceptionally smart. He’d always choked against every restraint put on him, always struggled underneath his former boss’s heel.

 (He remembered Tseng’s cold voice as he accepted the sector drop, and maybe that twinge of guilt had been more than just a twinge.)

 Either way, here he was lying on the roof of the building, the helicopter in pieces around him. Rude probably survived the crash, he survived everything, the dumb fuck, but he definitely wouldn’t be happy to see Reno after the stunt he pulled. Shinra had more than enough men to protect him, the ass.

 This was a stupid idea. Which was probably why he didn’t even think when he crashed their helicopter on the pad instead of fighting Barret and his band of merry idiots. What a stupid idea. They’d only live for maybe a few minutes more.

 He coughed and winced. That was a broken rib. Two, if he were unlucky, and Reno was always unlucky. He’d been born under a cursed star, after all.

 “You friggin’ moron.” Reno barely had time to open his eyes before he saw a thick, black arm wrap around his waist, picking him up with an unexpected gentleness despite the rough voice. “What were you doing?”

 “Saving your asses,” he croaked, laughing. Big mistake, his ribs definitely didn’t like that. Spitting blood on the ground, he smirked. “What’re you doing?”

 Barret snorted, running down the stairs in a desperate attempt to escape. Escape what? Reno frowned, his head aching as he tried to remember. There had been a bomb—the building was set to explode and he’d warned them.

 “We’re not gonna make it,” he mumbled. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Tifa and Cloud racing ahead, clearing the way.

 “We’re going to friggin’ try.” Barret tightened his grip as he bounded down the stairs even faster now, taking them three steps at a time. “Can’t believe you did that.”

 “And you’re carryin’ me.” Something about this struck him funny. He wasn’t sure if it was the concussion or if it had always been funny, but it was. He tried not to laugh. His ribs ached nonetheless.

 “Tifa insisted.” Barret ground out, looking a little put out. “You saved us, sure, but it’s probably ploy.”

 “I feel like a ploy,” Reno agreed. That made sense. He was certain that made sense.

 “Yeah, you do.” Barret tried not to jostle him as he turned down another flight of stairs. The whole building was endless. No wonder Reno had taken the helicopter up. “But I guess she’s got a point. No one’s going to kill themselves just to get in.”

 “I’m in?” Reno wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Queasy, though that might have been the concussion.

 “I’m not letting you near us, but you get to live.” Barret glanced at him, the hardened face of a leader. “You’ve earned that much.”

 “Have I?” he questioned, but his head jostled and he fell into the welcoming darkness.

   iv. Sephiroth

 There were many things Reno expected during his time with the Turks, but sitting in a helicopter across from SOLDIER’s greatest warrior hadn’t been high on the list. Considering the kind of wild card he was, he’d expected the brass to keep them as far apart as possible.

 Maybe the higher ups liked flirting with danger too. The chopper’s blades were loud and it was hard to think, let alone talk. Reno glanced at the door, taking in the snowy mountains below. “Why’d anyone want to go to a nowhere like this?”

 Sephiroth didn’t say anything, only coolly regarded him with bright, mako-infused eyes. Something sparked underneath his peaceful expression, some sort of violent storm that was just waiting to explode. Reno didn’t want to be anywhere near when it happened.

 He also wanted to stand right in the middle of it all.

 Rude had always called him a contradictory bitch.

 “I can see them sending me over to this boring backwater town as a punishment, but you?” he raised a brow, egging him on. “Thought you’d be too big to come here.”

 His silver hair almost hid his face as he leaned against the other door and silently took in their destination. Quietly, he replied, “You can stay on the helicopter when we arrive. You aren’t needed.”

 “Huh?” Reno snorted, resisting the urge to yank on his long hair and force him to look at him. If there was one thing that grated on his nerves, it was being ignored. “What, you want to hog all the glory?”

 “There’s two SOLDIERS.” His gold-flecked eyes met his, and Reno was certain now that he saw some spark of untameable emotion behind his glass exterior. “A Turk is useless.”

 “I’ll show you useless.” He smiled wolfishly, all teeth. Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed, just a smidge, and he personally made it his goal to see just how long it’d take for the big man to lose control.

   v. Aerith

 “Oh, you poor dears,” Aerith murmured as she knelt in the single patch of sunlight in the slums. Reno had once wondered just what the odds were that it shone through the hole in her church, that it hit the only place flowers grew, and then remembered he’d hated numbers. “Don’t worry, I’m here.”

 Hands in his pockets, Reno slowly made his way down the aisle to her, his footsteps echoing in the vast room. People might have come here once upon a time, but it was abandoned now, forgotten by all but a lone flower-girl. He glanced at the torn-up flowers at her feet, the over-turned dirt, and snorted. “This happens every time. You should just let them die.”

 “Never.” She immediately rejected his suggestion just as she’d done the last nth number of times this had happened. “You could help, you know, instead of standing there.”

 He shrugged. “They don’t pay me enough to watch you and help you.”

 “You don’t have to watch, you can just help,” she replied sweetly, her innocent smile not quite masking her sharp eyes. The girl was a match waiting to light up. “I won’t tell.”

 “Sure, and Shinra won’t have my head when he finds out.” Reno rolled his eyes. They had this conversation once a week. The company goons would come and get her (they also didn’t pay him enough to help them), she’d beat them up and flee, they’d make a mess of her garden, and she’d fix it up.

 And then rinse and repeat.

 It was boring. If he had to get stuck in this small-time slum with this small-time girl, then at least he should be properly entertained. “Why do you even care about those things?”

 “They’re pretty,” she replied earnestly, her fingers digging in the dirt and righting a plant. “They’re resilient. And…”

 “And?” Reno raised a brow.

 “I like them.” She grinned as she lied. He was pretty sure that the reason his boss wanted her was in her last, silent response. “Do I really need another reason?”

 “For this much work? Yeah.” Reno shrugged.

 Aerith chuckled, tucking a lock behind her ear. “If you say so. But if you change your mind…”

 “Not happening.” Reno snorted, sitting in a pew a couple of rows down. Crossing his arms on the bench in front of him, he rested his chin and watched as she went back to work.

 He was starting to sit closer each time.

 He didn’t want to think about what that meant.

   vi. Tseng

 “We’re balancing the scales,” Tseng ordered, his voice carefully neutral. It was always careful with this guy. The bastard liked to pretend he didn’t have feelings, that he was above all that. That the cold that came naturally to Shinra was also his own.

 Reno knew better. He made the same lies, only he didn’t buy into them. “Yeah…not.”

 “Do you really believe that?” Unfortunately, Rude bought Tseng’s act wholesale. A tragic flaw of his. As soft as he was, he needed some point to this, some reason for it all. There wasn’t. There never would be. And he’d never accept that. His hand clenched as he stared at Tseng.

 Reno knew Tseng’s response before he even opened his mouth.  Whatever the man might feel, he wouldn’t change his mind. “Does it matter?” Tseng raised a brow. Thatching his fingers, he regarded them coolly. His eyes lingered on Reno’s, as though he knew what would come next.

 Maybe he did. They did the same song and dance every time this happened. “What questions? We do the thing.” Reno shrugged, sitting up now. He ran a hand through his hair. “Just like always.”

 Rude looked at him sadly and sighed. “I’ll get ready.”

 Disheartened, he left the conference room, glancing back at Tseng one last time like a kicked puppy. If tactics like that could work, they wouldn’t be in this business in the first place. Reno snorted. As the heavy door slowly closed shut with a soft thud, he finally turned to Tseng. “You’re a fucking liar.”

 As usual, Tseng didn’t even bother to look up from his computer. His fingers ran quickly over the keys, tapping in an unknown code. Maybe if he did it enough, he could become one with the machine. “I didn’t lie.”

 Reno laughed, slipping off the couch and stalked toward the desk. Tseng still didn’t look up and he growled.

 Nothing got to him more than being ignored. “Every time you open that mouth,” he grabbed Tseng’s jaw, “You lie.”

 He didn’t so much as flinch. His eyes were dark. “I’ve never lied.”

 “Even that’s a lie,” Reno muttered.

 Tseng turned off his monitor. “Don’t make a mess on my desk this time.”

 “No promises.” It was all the warning Reno gave before he tugged Tseng closer and crashed his lips on his. There was nothing smooth or gentle about what they did—about the way Reno cleared the desk with a crash or Tseng pulled at his jacket, almost tearing it. This wasn’t a relationship, wasn’t anything more than just pent up emotions needing a release.

 And if that release was something physical, almost always bruising, then all the better. Hell, if he left enough marks on Tseng’s perfectly clear skin, then perhaps he could pretend he’d actually protested what they’d done.

That he’d tried and quelled the ghosts that refused to leave him alone.

  vii. Rude

“What if we flew away?” Rude asked, glancing at Reno as they flew the helicopter to Shinra’s building. There was a strange lit in his voice, one that took Reno several seconds to recognize as hope.

 “Back to headquarters?” he asked, playing dumb. Maybe it’d be enough for Rude to back away like he always did, take the coward’s way out.

 “No,” Rude shook his head. For once, he was being obstinate. “I mean…away.”

 It was his fault. He’d never been one for pillow talk, and that was the reason that Rude insisted on ambushing him everywhere else with these types of conversations. Hell, they were half-way to destroying AVALANCHE, and the man wanted to talk about escaping Shinra. Reno snorted, shutting it down immediately. “Like that’s fucking happening.”

 “But if it could?” Rude asked again, oddly insistent. His hands curled on the throttle as he eased the helicopter up. With his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

 “Fine.” Sittng back in his seat, he rolled his eyes. “Let’s say Shinra doesn’t kill us or hunt us down. Where would we go?”

 “One of those small towns on the outskirts?” Rude suggested, though he sounded like he’d thought this out for months. Maybe he had.  Maybe if Reno had just pretended to listen and slept through it all when they were in bed, he wouldn’t have to deal with that now. “There’s dozens of those.”

 “There’s a reason they’re small.” Reno scoffed, wrinkling his nose to the idea. He could barely handle them for a mission, let alone living in one. “What would we even do?”

 Rude shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Farm?”

 Reno snorted. “Can you imagine? Or maybe you could, but me? Do I look like a farmer?” He gestured at his body. Even on his best days, he knew exactly how scrawny he was. In all honesty, he’d always been a city boy; even the slums here were more interesting than some backwater town.

 “There’s other things to do.” Rude flicked a switch and pressed a button. “It’s a small town, not the middle of nowhere.”

 “Might as well be.” Reno watched as they got closer and closer to the tower. Any minute now, they’d have to jump out. Getting up, he glanced at Rude. “You good now?”

 Something about him deflated as he nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

 Reno bit back a groan. This is why he shouldn’t have even encouraged him. What a pain the ass. Looking out the window, he grumbled, “We can talk about this tonight, fine?”

 He could almost hear Rude smile. There was that annoying, hopeful sound again as he replied, “Yeah.”

[eyeshock]

Clingy

Prompt idea from @givethispromptatry

Carter steadied her hand as she shined the flashlight down the steps of the bomb shelter. The doors, after finally opening after much tugging on its heated handles, seemed more like an opened mouth than actual doors. Beyond the entrance were more stairs, which was only appropriate since the whole bunker was half way into the ground. Almost like a sinkhole opened and it refused to go down.

The air that seeped from the new opening wasn’t hot, like the deserts air around them so overwhelmingly was. Instead it was almost stale. Old and tired of being air.

“So?” Her cousin asked from behind her. Carter still sat in the dirt, having fallen over after pulling on the doors only to slip and opening them with all her body weight. The tools their grandmother had given her were pointless, only the shovel had done any good. “Are you going down?”

“Me?! Its your dog!” Carter scowled, coming back to the problem at hand. “If Kingston was trained he wouldn’t have run into the creepy basement! Even a leash!”

Zackary huffed, “Whatever, Bully Pits are very obedient,”

“Well, then it just shows how cruddy of an owner he has. Go! Go get him! Who knows what he could be chewing on, seriously,”

“Cart, you're the one with the flashlight. Besides, you’re coming, why else would the hag ask you to come out here and open it?”

She stared at the flashlight. Their grandmother did ask Carter to go down and check on it. See if the lights still switched on, to check the small windows near the ceiling to see if they were broken and bugs got it. She also wanted Carter to bring a box back, a suitcase sized tackle box or something.

“Fine, but once you get a hold on Kingston, get out. You two could be more damaging to it than an actual bomb. Got it?”

Zackary helped her up while nodding. Carter looked back down the concrete steps, hating the way she felt. She could feel them, the way they wanted Carter to go down there. Maybe it was her overactive imagination, maybe it was the fact the doors has been closed for 40 or 50 years, but the feeling was still there. She swallowed and momentarily second guessed coming out to the shelter.

The first step down, Carter felt nothing. The second step, still nothing. No jolt of electricity, no piercing scream. All the steps were silent. She couldn’t decide if that was reliving, because they had not other intentions, or if it was concerning, because they were still hiding the secret they had.

At the bottom, Carter found the floor to be solid concrete as well. The metal walls looked flimsy despite the strong looking foundation and support poles in every corner they could see. The walls had hundreds of object stacked against the walls; books, boxes, old timey things their grandparents must’ve wanted with them when the ‘war’ started. It never came, of course, but they left all sorts of things down in their shelter.

Baskets filled with different types of paper, a lone shelf ready to give out from the weight of dusted boxes stacked on it, cases covered by piles of blankets and bottles. Cups. Plates and a few chairs. Carter even spotted a mattress, splayed out in the corner. 

“What do you think about all this crap?’

“I think it sticks, Cart.” He complained from behind her.

“Geez, for a guys, you’re really jumpy, you know that?”

“And for a feminist, that was pretty stereotypical of you,” he shot back and Carter gave an apologetic smile, “where’s my dog?”

“Call him,” she suggested as she went over to her right, shining the light onto a framed photo that sat atop a blanket. It was almost completely covered in dust, which must’ve been the reason for the stale air. The photo underneath showed a young man and town women beside him. Her grandparents?

“Huh,” she muttered out loud, “do we have a great aunt? I swear grandpa always said they were the only family living in Nevada,”

“So-” Zackary spoke from beside her, startling Carter and she jumped back.

“Sheesh! Step back, would you?! You’re so god damn clingy- stop touching me!”

Her younger cousin stepped back, hands raised like he was at gunpoint. Carter turned back to the photo, ignoring the family mystery and started searching through the other objects as Zackary called for his dog. whoever was in the photos, she could ask once they got back with the suitcase her 89 year old grandmother suddenly needed. Turning and eyeing the walls a little more carefully, she found the bunker was bigger than the roof on ground level let on. The cluttered entrance turned off to the right after several big strides, so Kingston could easily hide. He could easily break things.

Carter clenched her jaw.

“Did you find him yet? I need you out of here already,”

“If I had light this would go much faster. Do you see a switch? This place has lights, right?”

Carter looked along the wall next to the blistering doors. She smiled once she spotted a small square box.

“Yeah, lemme get it for you,” she responded and strolled up to the entrance. She looked closer and frowned. The switch was just exposed wires, no protective plastic to act as the switch. “Shit.”

Kingston barked sharply from somewhere in the shelter and Carter grit her teeth again.

“Zack!”

“I’m on it! God,” he complained, but shuffled away anyways, “here boy! King, c’mere boy.”

Carter continued to tinker with the wires. Which colors were correct? Being the oldest, she was always her dad's little handyman, but all the work she did growing up apparently didn’t pay off when it came to electrical work.

“Gosh- who’d even rip this off?” She muttered to herself. Something very gently brushed up against her side, and Carter reached the end of her rope with him.

“Hey, I told you to stop!” She snapped, not caring to turn around to scold her cousin.

Zackary sighed from the end of the untidy hall way, “You told me to stop being ‘too clingy’, so I did! Carter, chill out!”

“You’re still touching me!”

Silence, then a careful ‘wrrring’ sounded from the walls. The lights flickered and Carter laughed triumphantly.

“Got it-!”

“Carter,” Zackary said from somewhere behind her, “I’m not touching you.”

[melo-yello]

Bloodie Knuckles

Not my moodboard

Pairing(s): Sweet Pea x POC Reader

Warning(s): swearing, angst, fluff

Summary: Y/n has got an axe to grind and some missed placed rage. Who better than Sweet Pea to help her out.

A/N: This takes place somewhere in season 2. I like my Sweet soft but tuff around the edges so be prepared. Also reblog or comment and I'll add you to the Taglist.

Word Count: 4k+

Wrappers and loose leaf pages decorated the floor around your feet. The awful mood that hung on your shoulders since receiving the worst news of your life only seemed to pile higher and higher.  

“Where the hell is it?” You curse ripping yet another item form your locker and tossing it to the tiled hallway floor.

The pastel pink snake plushie flew from the top shelf.  Sweet Pea had won you that on your last trip to Midnight Park , a cruddy little amusement park just pass Greendale barely worth the trip. The small theme park had been a home away from since you guys were kids. Fangs and Pea would compete for prizes at every single booth while you and Toni took on every coaster in sight.

Naturally Sweet Pea would take you there as a first date. Insisting Pop's just wasn't special enough. After taking down three 8 year olds, a 12 year old and two 14 year olds in a water gun race Sweet Pea presented you with the goofy pink snake with enough charm to rival his own.

The teddy usually proudly positioned at the top of your cluttered locker now lay on top of your dingy white canvas high tops.

The longer you searched the small confides of the metal walls the more your temper edged over its peak.

You slammed the now empty locker enough force to rattle a few beside it. It rang up and down the corridor. The mob of teens rushing to morning classes almost shrieked to a standstill to find the source of the abrupt commotion.

“Jeez Y/n, are you okay!?” The former lead pussycat turned river vixen asked placing a concerned hand on your shoulder. One of the last people you wanted to see at the moment. All too easy of a target to lose the full weight of your rising temper.

Cynical laughter erupted from your chest as you turned to face her. She had no idea the unbridaled flames that wait behind that glass smile you gave her.

“You would know wouldn't you, Popstar Princess. Or are you too busy to care about what happens to the Southside?” You quipped down at the girl who barely made it past your shoulders.

Out of the corner of your e/c eyes you see Toni and Fangs turn the corner just in time to watch the scene unfold. You shrug.  Your rage in every sense was grounded.

Toni knew that wild look in your eyes all to well. She tugged the taller serpent down and whispered something to him. Fangs simply nodded and pulled out his phone. He exchanged a few phrases and then hung up all without his eyes leaving your face.

Too bad you couldn't bring yourself to care.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Hostility steeping dangerously hot between the two of you.

“Oh just that your Mom is doing great job of screwing over the Southside!” The venom that had been boiling in your veins finally slipping over.

“My mom is just doing her job!”

“I'd sure as hell hate to see what it looks when she doesn't!”

“What is your problem?”

“Don't even get me started. Shit, even you aren't that blind, Primadonna?! Let me see I can't pick between her being a hypocrite or forcing me and family out on the street.”

“Y/n, I'm so so sorry it's jus-”

“But tell me how does she possibly fit the time in her busy schedule to pull all nighters with Sheriff Keller in sleazy little motel rooms.” You hissed pulling your ring clad hands into a tight fist.

Each finger arrayed in metal and cheap gemstones. Your h/c curls hung freely as a menacing glare settled onto your features.  

Astonished gasp sweeps through the crowd.

“What the hell are you trying to say?” Josie's remorseful confusion melted into furious indignation.

Wild eyed embarrassment made its way onto her face. Your lips curl in sneer as you clear your throat. Before the words could leave your lips grunts and curses rippled from the back of the mob of teens.

“Move the fuck out of my way.” Rang the gruff voice of the tall dark haired serpent pushing his way through the crowd  and glaring down at anyone who dared to question him just to plant himself directly behind to you.

A firm warm hand grasped your shoulder. His touch nearly cold compared to the searing heat broiling just below your brown skin. You glance long enough to meet the soft pleading expression that played across his features.  

For a split second your confidence crumbled into conflicted confusion. The hurt just below the surface peeking through. A lapse in your molten fury that was cold and vulnerable revealed itself to his piercing deep brown eyes.

“Y/n. Don't.” He warned gently. A simple request to leave that night where it was.

To leave that night at Shady Palms a memory. A memory swallowed in secrets. Secrets that didn't belong to either of you. You both just witnesses to one of the many lies that litter this town. A lie on the Northside two serpents were never supposed to see.  

…

“How about we grab some snacks then we can try that corkscrew thing I was telling you about.” You giggle pulling Pea's blazer onto your shoulders as you both exited the motel room. Hiding away the lacey f/c bra from the outside world as you straighten your black pencil skirt and shuffle into your shoes.

The defined h/c curls that crowned your head and elegantly framed your face at the beginning of the evening were now ruffled and slightly frizzed.  Strong thick fingers had worked themselves in and out and around them. Pretty much ruining the style.

Not that you could complain. His methods were proving to be quite satisfactory to say the least.

“Baby, if I knew all you needed to be absolute freak was a room at Shady Palms, I never would have waited for a special occasion to bring you here.” Pea laughed tucking his hands into his slack pockets not bothering to button the top half of his white dress shirt. He wore the red trail of hickies down his neck and chest with pride. His thick charcoal locks were smoothed back and out of eyes. Making those chocolate irises even more captivating.

Sweet Pea finally dawning something without leather or a snake on it.  

You didn't look like serpents tonight.

You just looked like teens. Teens with trouble in your eyes and hope hidden behind every smile. You almost looked like you belonged on this side of town. Like maybe you crept from your bedrooms as your loving parents held each other in their own bed as the tikes slept soundly down the hall and your golden retriever curled up on the edge of your bed.

The only tell of Southside on you both was the serpent ink.

You shoved the giant teen and nearly tripped over your creme colored pumps.

“You still can't walk in those things?” Pea snickered offering his arm to steady you.

“I wear them to keep up with you. It's not my fault I've got to look like a giraffe to do that.” You grumbled while accepting his arm and tucking yourself into his side.

A smirk settled on his face genuinely happy to welcome your warm frame close to his own. You rest your head on his shoulder.

“A sexy ass giraffe.” Sweet Pea chuckled.

You couldn't help but laugh at him and how matter of factly he said it. A snort escaping your throat only made him laugh even harder.

“Right this way Mayor McCoy.” The hardy voice of Sheriff Keller rang out as he stepped into the hazy fluorescent light with a self assured grin on his face.

The laughter died in your throats. Your feet cement themselves to the ground. Pea slid his hand from his pocket and laced his fingers into yours. You pressed your palm flush against his.

A silent promise of loyalty.

Not matter what.

Mayor McCoy shook her head latching onto his arm.

“Oh come Tom, how many times do have to tell you. Call me Sierra.” She giggled tugging a puppy dog eyed Sheriff Keller into a room a few doors away from where you and Pea stood frozen.  But not before she pulled Keller’s lips down to hers.

“Shit?!?” Pea muttered as you both stared transfixed on the Mayor and Sheriff tangled around each other.

Both watching as the door shut to the cheap room.  Waiting for the click like it was permission to breath. With that the tension in the air fizzled.

“I really hope they don't need anything from the vending machine.” You snickered awkwardly looking up at Pea doing your best to resurrect the bubbly energy of before.  

Sweet Pea took the bait as he pressed a kiss onto the back of your palm and wrapped his arm around your soft hips.

“I don't think Skittles come in a self righteous flavor yet so we're safe.”

Your steps retake the aimless trot to the machine glittering in the moonlight at the corner. Little jokes tumble back and forth from your lips to his. Leaving whatever those two were doing in that room.  Leaving the illusion of the North side intact.

Here was so Safe. And so Honest. And so Pure.

...

You snatch yourself free from his grip pressing the overflowing emotions back down in their bottle.

“Are all you northsiders that dense? It seems that our beloved Mayor McCoy is busying putting in overtime screwing-”

“Oh Fuck You, Trailer Trash!” Josie screamed pushing you square in the chest ruffling the grey tee with sleeves cuffed and blood red script reading Try Me Bitch.

You stumble back.

Ooos ripple from the surrounding crowd.

“Take it back, Pussybrat!” You demand stepping up to her.

“Why should I! Hey maybe you tell your parents to pay their damn rent and they wouldn't have these problems when someone actually does what their job.” The mob continued to instigate.

Your chest tightened. The rapid drumming of your own heartbeat filled your ears.

“You'll be lucky if you can stand after saying that shit to me!” You snarled her sweater dress filling your fist and drawing back with the other.   

No hesitation.

You swung full force only for your body to be snatched backwards and slung into the air and finally over an impossibly broad shoulder.  

“What the hell!”You bark trying to shake yourself free from the constrictor grip Sweet Pea had on your hips.

His signature scent of cheap cologne and wildflowers gave him away immediately.  

“Josie you okay?” Pea mused ignoring your protests as he helped her to her feet.

“She sure as hell won't be if your let me finish what I started. Put me the fuck down!” You growl slamming your fists into his back over and over again.

“She's sorry too.” Sweet Pea shrugged making no indication he even felt your hits.

Josie just nodded waving him off as she straightened her mustard mini dress with off the shoulder puffed sleeves.   

A steady ache in your fists made that clear he was unphased so you stopped.

“You can bet your pretty ass I'm not.” You spat wiggling in Pea's firm grasp.

He kissed his teeth and turned away from her as the crowd parted letting him through. No one was willing to chance the absolutely definite asskicking they'd get if they didn't step out of his way.

Your curses circled the hallways as he rounded the corner. It wasn't until he stepped inside the empty gymnasium did he place you on the ground.

“You crossed a line back there.” Sweet Pea scolded staring down at you in utter disbelief.

“No Pea I didn't you made sure of that!” You huffed crossing your arms glaring back at those disappointed dark eyes.

Don't gimme that look.

“You know what I'm talking about! Shit,Y/n! We made a promise not to say a word. That was not your shit to unpack!”

“Someone had to pop the wannabe teen idol's bubble! She was gonna find out eventually!”

“You didn't do that for her! That's not why you said that shit! You had half school watching! THAT IS NOT HOW YOU HAN-”

“I HAD THAT SHIT HANDLED, PEA!”

“LIKE HELL YOU DID, L/N!” Sweet Pea shouted throwing his hands in the air. His own temper flaring which only fueled yours. Sweet Pea cut his eyes away from you.

“YOU HEARD THAT COCKY LITTLE BITCH, PEA! YOU HEARD HER CALL ME TRAILER TRASH! SWEETS, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE ON MY SIDE!! AM I THE ONLY ONE THAT CARES THAT THE NORTHSIDE IS TRYING TO SNUFF US OUT!” You raged eyes wild as you press your curls away from your face and those e/c eyes of yours settle on the ground. The shame of it all beginning to set in.  

“I heard it and any other day I would have chewed that brat out, but I'm not standing by so you can total McCoy's ass and get suspended. Babe who else's side could I be on? Why do think I tossed your crazy ass over my shoulder? You've got to chill you're starting to sound like Jones.”He snickered rolling his eyes doing his very best to lighten your mood.

But the tension pressed into your features didn't clear.    

“SWEETS I'M SERIOUS! IT'S LIKE THEY'RE TRYING TO ERASE THE SOUTHSIDE! FIRST OUR SCHOOL! THEN OUR JACKETS! THEN OUR CLOTHES! AND NOW OUR HOMES! THEY'RE TAKING EVERY PIECE OF THE SOUTHSIDE FROM US! Before we know it ...they'll be...nothing left.” You fumed stepping toward him and taking his hand in yours halfway expecting him to pull away.

He didn't.  

Instead he curls his warm fingers around yours without hesitation. Perfectly surrounding your hand so naturally as if his were made to intertwined with yours.  

“Gonna take a wild guess this doesn't have shit to do with Josie.”

Your words stick to the mucus that starts to coat your throat. Eyes glassy now, you just nod as you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat.  

He always could read you like an open book. Hell most people could but he was good at it. All the hidden meaning and subtext were child's play for him. He just knew you.

Pea's your even match. He always made you feel safe and like nothing could get to you. Like the world just couldn't knock you down. Like as long as you had each other there wasn't anything that could tear you two apart. That you didn't have to cry if you didn't want to.

But not now…

Everything just kept crumbling. The hot tears you'd been sealing away since you tore that eviction notice from your door stung at the corners of eyes.

“Aye Y/n, we're fine. We're gonna make it Serpents always do.” He whispered confidently pulling you into him and your head to his chest gently stroking h/c curls away from your face.

“Sweets, I'm sorry. Just sorry. So fucking sorry.” You muttered wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Trying pull him as close to you as possible. Anchoring yourself in his frame. Hoping to hide every fallen tear in the fabric of his black shirt. Teeth tearing into your bottom lip as you beg yourself to be strong.

"No you're not Baby. What did you do? Why are you apologizing?” He hummed trying his best to just hold you. Hold onto your trembling form while you unraveled in his arms. Wrapping himself around your broken parts so he could brace your fall.

Vulnerably for you was the hardest. You hated to let him see you break down and hurt and cry. Giving him part of the weight of the pain you carried always gave you pause.

Could he still love me when I break.

Could he still love me when I fall apart in front of him.

You had a tendency to hold it all in usually until it all came pouring out. Sweet Pea gently rubbed circles into your back and tangled his fingers into your soft h/c curls.

And waited.

“Yes I am.  I'm so sc…so scared. Sweets, I'm sorry because I'm scared. I've been so scared for days. I haven't been sleeping. Barely eating. I don't have anywhere else. Sunnyside is all I've got. I can't go anywhere else. Aren't you scared, Pea? I'm terrified. I haven't been this scared in a long time. I was trying to be brave. I wanted to be brave for you, for Cass, for the serpents, for everyone , but… I just can't. What are we gonna do?! Fuck I can't be some foster kid! What if they take me from all of this. All I've ever known! What if they take me away from the serpents! What about Cass? What about Fangs?! What about Toni?! What about Jug and FP?! What about you Sweets?! I Can't Lose Everything Again! I Can't Lose You! Fuck Keller! Fuck the Mayor! Fuck My Folks…fuck them…they.” Your voice hitched in your throat. You couldn't bring your lips to form those words.

You trembled steadily.

...

The morning after your older sister's graduation. The stillness of the small metal house.

The quietness.

Completely uncanny. No fussing baby brothers woke you that morning. No 4 year old sister to throw a fit as you move her toys from the middle of the hallway floor. No smell of burning bacon and oatmeal filled the air. The loud curses traded between your mom and her boyfriend never came.

The tidiness. Like it had been professionally cleaned. Just an empty trailer and 10 year old.

A freshly sober big sister sat on the rickety sofa with an unopened beer next to a crumpled sheet of notebook paper. Her diploma tossed on the far side of the room. She just stared at the place where the tv should have been. Your little fingers unraveled the wad of notebook paper only to find a half assed letter.

Princess,

I'm done waiting for him. We're Leaving. Cass will take care of you.

Good Luck, Sweetheart.

scribbled in your mom's handwriting smeared with her signature peachy pink lipstick. Just below that a dingy 20 was taped to the page. Hot tears barreled down your cheeks as Cass stood snatching the beer from the table.

You latch yourself to her wrist. Pleas for her to stay rip from your lips. Snot trailing down your face as she freed herself from your grip.

“Screw them! Princess my ass! What the hell does she think a 20 is gonna do for the rest of your life!” She hissed slamming the trailer door.

The motorcycle revving and spraying the loose gravel by the trailer as she sped off out of the Sunnyside. You sat sticky faced with your knees tucked to your chest on the steps and prayed that someone would come back home.

...

“You don't have to say it. Baby, I know. Trust me I know.” Sweet Pea breathed unevenly as he squeezed you gently. He held the same tension in his shoulders as you.

The last couple days Sweets had been busy doing jobs for the Serpents. Pulling gigs well into the night. A welcomed distraction from the mass eviction of Sunnyside Trailer Park.  

His home and the home of over half the Serpents.

His family.

Everything was falling apart.

The look of ruin that flashed across his aunt's face only to be replaced with solemn hopelessness sent chills down his spine.

Everything you both had ever known was teetering by a thread and you had been trying to shoulder it all by yourself.

You had hidden your terror in texts and in silly jokes and songs when he called. Assuring him that the Northside couldn't phase you. No matter what.

You lied and he believed.

Moments like these made it painfully clear in the grand scheme of this war between North and South you were still children who knew too little and whose voices didn't matter enough.

The silence was almost suffocating.

“Baby, you don't have to apologize,”He paused to cup your face in hands just to be sure your eyes met his, “We're all pretty damn scared. I've had knots in my stomach for days. I thought it be easier to ignore this bullshit. Wait for it to blow over, but only seems grow.  Shit's hit the fan. Every time the Southside makes a statement it's punished. Drowned out like we don't deserve this town. Like we couldn't possibly know what this town does in the dark. The crime. The murder. The theft. The drugs. Hell even the psychos. Somehow are all thought to be spawns of serpents. Like all the demons of this town must be ours. But if their honest with themselves every monster that haunts this hell hole is of their own making. Lies are the only thing holding everything together. But we won't roll over and die. They can't tear us apart. Or scare us into submission.” He spilled out as if he'd been holding his breath. Pea bit his lip as a tear or two dribbled down his cheeks. His deep brown eyes holding such a courageous fear.  

Like he was too afraid not to be brave.  He had somehow managed to push all his fears and his worries into unadulterated boldness.

“Pea look at us we're a mess. Cryin and shit.” You smiled brushing a tear from his cheek.

“Baby, I'm not afraid of what I feel. You shouldn't be either.” He teased pressing a chaste kiss on your lips which was probably salty and snotty and gross. He made no indication he cared. He just returned your weak smile.

“I'm trying. It's just hard you know.” You mumbled placing your forehead against his chest.

“I know. I know. You did pretty good.”

“Really?”

“Really, Y/n. Just don't attack anymore cheerleaders. I think they put people off the squad for that shit.” He chuckled lifting your chin and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I owe her an apology, don't I?” You wince rolling your puffy e/c eyes and taking his hand. Sweet Pea shrugged.

“You told like half school about her mom's affair so probably.” He nodded following you to the doors to the hallway.

Before you could reach them; the gymnasium doors swung open to reveal a very worried Fangs, Jughead, and Toni.  

Your faces still wet and tear streaked. Especially yours.

“So this where you love birds ran off to.” Jughead snarked the worry peeling off his face.

Fangs without hesitation pulled you away from Sweet Pea and into a bear hug.

“Oh Y/n,”  He cooed then held you by the shoulders scolding you, “What hell is wrong with you?!? Picking fights with the mayor's daughter?!? You wanna get rounded up all over again?!”

Sweet Pea snickered at the over affectionate serpent, but he still shifted to catch your expression to be sure Fangs wasn't upsetting you all over again.

“Sorry Fangs.” You smirked sheepishly.

Fangs nodded and pulled you in for another hug before letting you go. Toni shoving him eagerly aside.

“Outta my way, Mama Bear.” Toni said meeting your eyes with a burning ferociousity.

Toni's fairy-like stature was entirely inconsequential when she hit you with a face like that. Just a reminder she was very capable of kicking the ass of anyone in the room.

She traded death glares between you and Sweet Pea.

“Toni, I kno-” You cleared your thought to offer an apology, but she cut off with a hand.

“That was really stupid and-”

“And I shouldn't have done that.” You sighed hanging your head. Your temper had put Sweet Pea's shame.

“AND really bad ass!” She smiled punching you in the arm and then hugging you.  

“Get over here Pea. Thanks for snatching up this crazy bitch.”

“Somebody had to.”The larger serpent just cheesed motioning for the other boys to join the hug.

The ring of bell brought the full house moment to the end. The five of you headed out attempting to pretend nothing had happened and get to 2nd period on time.

Taglist:@sweetwatersnake @nongmac001 @wayward-river @baileyboo22

[jade-island-lives]

Writeblr Life Week 1: Mermaids, and Wolves, and Fishies Oh My

I I dunno. saw a few people doing it, checked out @owl-writes​ event and saw the prompts and was like, “I don’t really participate in events, this would be fun!” so, here I am?

For real though, this looks really fun and I wanted to give this a go! I don’t know if I will get to all the days because college (bleeeh) and life stuff, but I want to try?

So...this is me.

Here’s an anime me because I don’t like my picture being taken for reasons.

Basic Stuff!

-My name is private, but people call me Jade after one of my characters, as well as my username. 

-I’m also known as the crazy mermaid lady, fish grandma, and that weirdo that loves the deep seas way too much. Call me whatever you want so long as it isn’t mean. <3

-My pronouns are she/her and I am a lesbian (out of the closet since 2017!) <3

-I am a college student who is terrible with schedules and deadlines and I am currently to earn a degree in E-Marketing and Design!

-I have way too many WIPs, but the main ones right now are:

Tales of Merlia: My first love and my biggest WIP to date. About mermaids, magic, and mischief. Started out as a form of therapy to ease me back into writing, but people really seemed to love it so...working on the first book now! It’s the book I have wanted to write since I was a child!

The Light Force: Another series of books about people with superpowers defending the Earth after the end of a brutal war between man and Godlike beings. It’s my fun WIP. If I’m stressed or tired, it’s what I will work on. Full of superpowers, action, and maybe a bit of humor. It’s one of my lighter WIPs.

Ellie’s Shortcake: Set in the 1930′s, involves murder, gangs, and defying laws and society itself. It’s dark, and involves a lot of violence and death. A cautionary tale about revenge and a test to see how far you can push someone until they snap. The WIP isn’t really ready to be released yet, and is still in it’s rough stages, but I post about it here and there. 

The Baker: My goriest most mature WIP. NOT FOR KIDS. Involves, blood, murder, dismemberment, physical and psychological torture and is about coping with trauma, alcoholism, and learning to find new life when you feel like you can’t. 

So yeah, I have a lot of ideas. Are they good ones? I dunno. XD

Writing: My First Love

Without getting too deeply into it, I have always had a love for books. Reading was my favorite thing to do when I was a kid, to the point where I had teachers taking away my books for reading during class.

I went through a lot of careers as a kid. Singer, animator, and even visual artist/cartoonist. But from a young age, I delved into fanfiction of my favorite books as a kid (Warrior Cats and Magic Tree House being the big ones). I also delved into writing things about mermaids (which would become Tales of Merlia later on)

Teachers always told me I had a voice in my writing and told me to put all the time I read into something constructive. I didn’t really listen until I was in 6th grade and discovered the wonderous world of DeviantART, fanfiction, and OCs. 

I tried my hand at Fanfiction for Eddsworld, various video games, my OCs, and even Sonic. Call it cringe, I’m grateful for those times because I really honed my skills and learned about writing through that, I finally had drive to learn about something and stick with it and I became enraptured by the idea of writing my own book. 

I filled notebooks with stories and fan fiction and posted more to DeviantART and got a lot of love for my work, as cruddy as it was. I would always be writing and reading, making story after story. Sharing those stories with friends and them loving it. 

However, high school was a difficult time, and I ran into people telling me that my writing wasn’t “good” and that writing wasn’t going to be a “good career for me” and that I should be a teacher instead.”

And being emotionally vulnerable and struggling with mental health at the time due to things happening in my personal life, I believed them and it ruined my confidence as a writer, to the point where I despised it. I wrote during class to try and escape the pain of my life, but when writing became a sore wound, I didn’t write for a whole year I think.

Until I discovered Hamilton, and tried again to write. But it was still a fight and I slipped. And as a last attempt, I wrote the first chapters of Tales of Merlia and posted them, thinking that would be it.

And well...I’m here...? <3

So yeah, that’s my writing career. Nothing big I know, but worth noting. :)

Fun Facts About Me!

-I am left handed.

-I have spastic hemiplagia cerebral palsy and no depth due to something that happened at my birth. I trip and fall a lot, so it’s not uncommon to see me with bandages on my arms or legs. And half the time if I fall, I just get up and brush it off.

-My favorite soda is Pepsi, fight me.

-I HATE coffee. I love tea and drink it constantly. I don’t have a favorite, it depends on what I need on any given day. Green tea, peppermint, chamomile, and jasmine tea are things I’m always down to drink. I will drink it hot or iced, no sugar or lemon or milk. Sometimes I’ll get iced chai tea though. 

-I got into drinking tea because of Black Butler and now it’s a problem. 

-My favorite candy bar is Kit-Kats. But I also love Heath Bars and Hershey Almonds. 

-My favorite candy that is not chocolate is Gummy Sharks. 

-I have a personal connection to Bojack Horseman.

-Hamilton saved my writing career and got me into musicals at the same time. Don’t make me pick, I love a bunch of musicals. But my favorite songs from Hamilton are Act 1: Non Stop, Act 2: Hurricane.

-I hate shorts and short sleeves. I also hate wearing skirts and dresses. Jeans and hoodies all the way.

-I have a deep connection with Whisper of the Heart.

-Pokemon changed my life and it is a video game series that I love still. It’s a series that I love and will always love unconditionally because of what it did for me.

-I ramble. A lot.

-Finding Nemo, the Little Mermaid, and Beauty and the Beast were my favorite childhood films. Also Balto, Ratatouille, and Princess and the Frog.

-I dabble in herbalism

-My favorite animal is wolves. 

-I love both cats and dogs, no contest. But I love maine coons and corgis especially. 

-I am obsessed with curry.

-I love sunflowers and yellow flowers.

-I am a Hufflepuff, and as such value loyalty, hard work, and fairness

-I am an empath, dead on.

-I always have a book and a notebook with pens with me.

-I love hoodies, blankets, and plushies. Soft things. I have a thing with soft textures. Things that make me feel soft, warm, and secure.

So...that’s me. I hope you enjoyed this. And if not...um...sorry? ^^;

[honeylikewords]

Poe being a perfect gentleman on the road trip, even when you end up at a horrible roadside motel with only one bed *wink*

OH, COME ON, I’M GONNA BLUSH! 

But... I will admit, it is a little romantic to think about, and I’m all excited by the thought, so I’ll write a little something for it, because I can’t deny myself a teeny bit of self-indulgence on this rough road... 

I like to imagine that if Poe were to go on a road trip with a certain someone he likes (before they’ve officially entered any kind of relationship or voiced their feelings because GOD I love some mutual pining), he’d be trying his best to show how romantic and fun he can be. He’d be running to her side of the car and opening the door for her before she can even get out, constantly asking if she’s comfortable (”You need to get out and stretch your legs? You wanna eat? Is it too hot? You need a break?”), making sure she’s well-cared for.

He surprises her with little gifts from the gas station as she comes out of the bathroom, presenting her with a box of her favorite candies at one station, at the next with a pack of novelty hair clips with cute fruit shapes on them, et cetera. It’s his quiet, small way of spoiling her just a touch.

If they pull up to nifty little roadside attractions, he’ll give her his sweetest smile and puppy-dog eyes and ask if they can take pictures together, and when she agrees, his heart flutters with joy. The smiles he wears in those photos with her are so genuine and loving that everyone who looks at them can tell that they’re pictures of a man deep, deep in love with the woman in frame with him.

One night, however, the drive gets long and they’re in a largely empty stretch of highway. Poe can tell she’s getting really, truly tired-- the kind of tired that can’t be solved with an in-car nap-- so he starts scanning the horizon for signs of a hotel. He quickly checks the GPS for any nearby hotels and frowns as he realizes that all there is for miles and miles and miles is one cruddy little motel. But it’ll have to do; Poe’s getting sleepy, too.

They pull into the parking lot and Poe heads to the front desk, asking for a room. Turns out the motel is tiny and largely full, seeing as a biking group had taken up most of the available rooms, but there is one room left vacant. Poe takes it.

He jogs back to the car with their key and opens the door for his crush, smiling at her sweetly as she rubs her sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers, taking her hand and helping her out of the car, his tummy in knots to feel her soft little fingers in his hand, “I got us a room.”

“Mm,” she replies, giving a yawn and stretching so that her back pops (which, sadly, pulls her hand out of Poe’s grasp...), then goes to the trunk to retrieve her bag. “Thank you,” she calls.

Poe quickly follows her and grabs both their bags, keeping her hands free, hiking both bags over to their room. It’s dumb, but he always insists on carrying her bags; he likes showing off, in however small a way, how strong he is, how caring, how chivalrous. It’s dumb, but it makes him feel good to do these small things for her.

When they arrive at the door, Poe unlocks it and flicks the lights on, then furrows his brow as his stomach dances in jittery, excited, anxious waves. 

One bed looks back at them. And it’s not a big bed.

Poe apologetically smiles over his shoulder at the girl he’s sweet on, trudging in and placing the bags at the foot of the bed. He sheepishly rubs his neck and gives her a little shrug, chewing at his lower lip as he tries to fight back his giddiness at the idea of sharing a bed. Sharing a bed!

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “All the other rooms were booked and I didn’t realize it was just one bed and--”

“It’s okay,” interrupts the girl, stepping to his side and squeezing his bicep with an understanding hand. He tries to disguise the warmth flooding his cheeks by looking down at the sheets. “We’re both grown-ups, we can share.”

“I can seriously sleep on the floor if it’d make you feel safer, you know.”

“First of all, I already know I’m safe with you, Poe. You’d never hurt me.”

“You’re right about that,” he happily whispers, tempted to take her hand and squeeze it reassuringly, but he abstains.

“Second, do you have any idea how filthy these floors are? I... I don’t even wanna think about what might be in there. No way. Nuh uh.”

“Oh. ...Eugh.”

“Yeah. So, we’re sharing. Besides, it’s, um...” Poe watches her face as her words trail off, a certain nervousness coming over her expression. “It’s... well, you know, the air conditioning seems really strong in this room-- hotels are always so cold--and, um, uh... beds are warmer with two, right?”

Poe swears he’s floating on little clouds beneath his shoes, his stomach gleefully spinning with the same sensation he gets when he soars down the hill of a rollercoaster. 

“Yeah,” Poe replies, biting at the swell of his lip. “Nice and warm.”

The two then unpack a little, but keep watching the other, peeking over their shoulders when they think the other isn’t looking. Poe gets the dopiest smile on his lips every time he glances at her, gazing lovingly as she takes her clothes for the next day out and prepares her toiletries. He misses it when she looks back at him and gets her own dopey smile as she watches him unfold his t-shirt and jeans for the next morning.

When she ducks into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, Poe collapses on the bed and lets out a dreamy, boyish sigh, his cheeks hot with the idea of being in such close proximity to her. Sleeping together-- no, not like that!, he corrects himself-- would be such an intimate thing, and the thought of it bubbles up in his stomach and into his chest like the sparkles in champagne. The door clicks open and Poe turns his head, sitting up as she walks into the main room.

She’s wearing the cutest set of matching pajamas, printed with sprinkle-y donuts. He loves donuts. She climbs onto the bed and sits in front of him for a minute, the two of them exchange wordless looks, each seeming to be waiting for something.

Poe clears his throat when he realizes he’s been staring at her (and her lips) for too long and turns away, standing up and heading to his side of the bed. He pulls down the covers, then gestures to her like a waiter guiding a guest to their table.

“You first,” he smiles, trying his best to put her at ease. No need to make this more awkward than it needs to be. 

She nods graciously and slips between the sheets, turning so that her back faces the edge of the bed and her front faces him. Poe feels the tips of his ears go hot as he slides between the sheets, too, and mirrors her posture, facing her in the bed. 

Once again, they stare at each other for a few silent seconds, Poe unsure of what to do. Then, she breaks the stillness by extending her hand, winding it up and out of the sheets. Her palm comes to rest on his cheek, her fingers curling and uncurling as she strokes the stubbly beginnings of Poe’s beard. He knows his face must be scorchingly hot, but he dares not move: he can’t bear to break this spell.

She stares at his chin and strokes her fingers along the scrape of his stubble, his jaw cupped in her palm. She follows the shape of his beard, tracing her fingers along the hairline, and Poe nearly shudders at the sensation. As her fingers brush his lips, he draws a sharp breath in, and her gaze breaks from his jaw and up to his eyes.

For a few seconds, she says nothing. Then, she smiles at him, pushing the pad of her thumb on the plumpest part of his lip. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he doesn’t want it to stop.

“You look nice with a beard,” she says. “You should grow it out.”

“I... I was thinking I oughta,” Poe retorts, trying to maintain his cool. “For that hipster look. Maybe we can make gas money if I play on street corners. The beard might help.”

“Maybe,” shrugs the woman in bed with him. “I was just thinking it’s handsome.”

“O-oh.”

“Mm.”

Her lids flutter rather heavily and she yawns, burying her face into the pillow. Her hand remains on his cheek, sleepily rubbing back and forth over the roughness of Poe’s stubble. She seems to enjoy the sensation, sighing pleasurably as she scrapes her nails gently along the wiry hairs. Poe lets a shiver slip down his spine.

“Poe?”

“Uh-huh?”

“It’s cold,” she mumbles, lips pushed into the pillow.

“You want me to tinker with the air-con unit?”

“Nuh,” she yawns. “Do you wanna cuddle?”

“...Do you want to?”

“Yeah.”

Poe’s heart chases itself around in his chest, his heartbeat audible in his ears, his fingers twitching with the pounding of his pulse. He scoots closer in the bed, feeling the heat of her body radiating out into the sheets, and he puts his hand on the small of her back, staring with anticipation as he awaits her next move.

She pushes her face off the pillow and sleepily lands on his chest, wrapping him in a hug. Her legs tangle with his (he tries to control his trembling), and she lets out a contented sigh.

“You’re warm,” says she.

“So are you.”

“Good.”

“...Goodnight, princess.”

“Mm. Goodnight, flyboy.”

Her hands stroke up and down the expanses of Poe’s back, and Poe allows himself to rub at the small of her back and rest his cheek on the top of her head. He cuddles in and lets himself drift off to the sound of her rhythmic breathing, the hum of his heartbeat melding with hers. He’s wanted this for so long, and having it, having her in his arms... 

He doesn’t move all night. He stays still and warm, cradling her close. As he falls asleep, the two of them naturally inch closer together, pressing into the organic shapes of lovers, safe in one another’s arms.

It’s the best night either of them has had for the whole trip.

Send Me Asks While I’m On My Roadtrip!

[leonajasmin-writeblr]

20 Questions

@gremla-hemlock and @westywrites have both tagged me back in the 10 Questions game, so I’ve decided to put them into one post and then add 10 new questions back at the end. I’ll tag you both back as well as @ruledbyserenity, @theflowofink and @bookbrd! Ignore this if you don’t want to take part :) 

@gremla-hemlock‘s questions:

How many chapters do you expect to have? Are they short chapters that only last a couple pages or large chapters spanning 20+ pages?

In the first draft of Parts 1 - 3 of my series, there are 130 chapters. That’d average each chapter as 2415 words. Some of my chapters are as short as a sentence whereas others are 6/7K words based on whether it’s a backstory or amidst the action.

What is/would be your main character’s favorite type of vehicle to drive? (Go as crazy as you want – tank, helicopter, drone, robot armor)

There aren’t many vehicles in my series! But given the choice (I’m not that crazy haha):

Alex: Train. His family have worked in producing train tracks in the past, so he’d like to test out what they made. 

Miriam: Miriam would be all or nothing. She’d either walk or have some crazy over the top tank.

Sebastian: Skateboard. Motorised if he needs to be anywhere soon.

Aiden: Why drive when you're capable of flying?

Noah: Train. Something simple in concept but complex to drive.

Roman: Roman’s late grandfather was a famous airship driver. He’ll be nervous about it, but he’ll try flying it himself later in the series and love it!  

Cyrus: He makes his own motorbikes canonically, so I think he’d stick to those.

Which true crime story is your plot most like, even if it’s a stretch?

I have no idea, to be honest! True crime isn’t really my thing haha

Who would be the first in your main characters to punch a Nazi?

Probably Sebastian

If your book were to become a smash hit with a fandom, what word or phrase could you say that would make the masses break into mass hysteria?

Rather than a word or phrase, it would be a name: ROMAN

In cleaning a house or apartment as a punishment, which room would your character(s) least likely want to clean and why? No doubling up rooms.

Alex: Kitchen. He and kitchens aren’t compatible whatever the scenario.

Miriam: The library because she knows she’ll just get distracted.

Sebastian: Hallways. Hallways are just boring, he can’t snoop much there (that’s a lie though, he snoops in a hallway in Book 3).

Aiden: Aiden actually likes cleaning (weirdo). But if he’d have to pick one, it’d be the attic/basement. No particular reason. 

Noah: Bathroom. Ew body hair.

Roman: Any bedroom that isn’t his. He never goes into other bedrooms so it’d make him uncomfortable.

Cyrus: Any hobby rooms (shed, study, art room etc.). He’s usually clean but hates having to tidy up his hobby stuff each time he has to take a break. 

On a scale of 1-10 how are evil are you to your characters and writing your books?

Alex: He starts pretty low then it shoots up as of Book 3. Like a 3 to an 8/9.

Miriam: 8. One bad thing is sorted out and then another one happens.

Sebastian: 4. Mostly he just sulks because nobody has considered him in issues, although there are only really three major things that affect him. It’d be higher if it wasn’t in comparison to the others.

Aiden: 1. Aiden is put on a pedestal so he gets a good life.

Noah: 4. Aiden is put on a pedestal so he gets a not so good life.

Roman: 8. The same reason as Miriam.

Cyrus: 7. His is mostly emotional, he doesn’t get into so many physical problems unlike Alex, Miriam and Roman, hence the slightly lower score.

Writing: 11 ofc.

In the world of Avatar, which element would your characters be?

Air: Aiden

Water: Roman, Cyrus,

Fire: Miriam, Alex

Earth: Noah, Sebastian

If you have a villain, could the plot progress without them? What would that look like?

A lot of people are ambiguous anti-heroes/anti-villains, but I do have a few villains! Namely Dr A, Luka and the Highest Empress.

In the beginning, it is namely Miriam vs. Alex even though neither of them are really villains. It couldn’t progress without either of them. But I think it could go on without the Highest Empress. She just adds another scale to the guy's villainy and was a late addition anyway.

What would your sequel be about? If you don’t intend to have a sequel but were forced to write one, what would the plot be?

I’m working on a series right now and I’m three parts in. Part 4 involves Miriam going on a tour of the nine Empire’s to establish her political connections between the Grand Master’s since it seems likely that Grand Master Ivanov may not be in his role for much longer.

Alex is on the tour and is dealing with a lot of issues from a revelation made in Book 3. 

@westywrites‘ questions:

Do your mcs like cats or dogs more?

Cats: Cyrus (he got attacked by a dog when he was a little boy so it’s he doesn’t like dogs rather than he’s a cat fan), Noah

Dogs: MIRIAM AND ROMAN, Aiden (is a doggo in human form), Sebastian, Alex

Do they prefer to be hot or cold?

Hot: Aiden, Alex, Sebastian, Cyrus

Cold: Miriam (she rules the Empire of Ice), Roman, Noah

Do they prefer action movies or rom-coms?

Action: Sebastian, Alex, Miriam

Rom-com: Aiden, Cyrus, Noah (don’t tell Aiden pls), Roman

Choose one character and tell me what flavour of ice cream they’d be. Why?

There is a running gag between Aiden and Miriam about salted caramel ice cream. In Aid’s first appearance, he literally bans her from eating it because she’s salty enough as it is.

What was the plot of the best short story you’ve ever read? 

I’m personally not a huge fan of short stories! I love series so much that I tend to wait until they’re finished (if they’re near the end) so I can binge in one go rather than wait. 

If you write short stories, what’s the plot of your favourite one you’ve ever written?

Despite what I just said, I actually came in the top 5% for a national short story writing competition once (the only one I’ve entered). It’s prompt was an era in historical fiction that isn’t as well known about. The interwar period qualified, so my work was about Kristallnacht. I originally wrote it for my GCSE English Literature course. The prompt was ‘use a theme presented in Shakespeare’ (so almost write whatever you want to be honest, it was both a great and cruddy prompt), so I used the theme of conflict.

What is the meanest thing you’ve ever done to a character?

A character in my side project goes through Chinese Water Torture.

What was the kindest thing you’ve ever done to a character?

Two characters who are desperate for a child have a surrogate offer to carry a child for them :)

Was writing something you always wanted to do or something you stumbled into?

I started when I was six so I don’t remember not writing to be honest! When I was little, I won just enough writing awards to keep my flitty self motivated to stick at it. When I was in Junior school (7-10), a few school projects that I got praised for were:

-  An adventure story. All I remember is the villain was named Candy and that we got to sit outside to write them. 

- Webcomic promoting saving water: Wacky Wayne the water drop.

- A rendition of Little Red Riding Hood where Red Riding Hood (Bossy Blue Stomping Hoodie or something like that) was rude af and the grandma injured herself in an international gymnastics tournament. 

Do you have any quotes from your own writing that mean a lot to you?

“Tears do not mean fear, they mean you hold your true self dear.” - Noah and Aiden’s mother.

She taught it to them to let them know that boys allowed to cry rather and shouldn’t feel fearful of judgement, but that applies to everyone!

DON’T BOTTLE UP YOUR EMOTIONS!

My questions:

Do you have birthdays assigned for your characters? What zodiac signs do they fall under? (If not, then which zodiac stereotype are they most like?)

What are your MC’s thoughts on hugs?

Are any of your characters abnormally tall or short?

Did your MC’s have any other names before you settled on their current ones?

If you had to compare your MC(s) to an animal, which would you pick?

Do any characters have unique physical features (from birth or acquired)?

How do/would your MC’s take their coffee/tea?

If your MC’s were in this universe, which country do you think they’d like to visit?

How many children does your MC have? Or how many do you think they’ll have/would like to have?

Which of your MC’s would be the best in a physical fight?

[i-rove-rock-n-roll]

3+11

@cometworks I wasn’t ignoring you, I swear! I just had to mull these two over. And thanks for asking!! :D

3. list your fandoms and one character from each that you identify with.

Well, I’m kind of a low-key fan of stuff, not too obsessed, but there’s still too many! I’ll just go: Harry Potter (Luna bc yes), Night Vale (I’d like to say Cecil cause I’m a bit kooky, though my fashion isn’t quite like his, but probably Maureen. I’m only 4 seasons in, but her snark is just 👌👌), umm most things Marvel (Spidey is my dude. He was my fav as a kid cause he was always kinda a smartass, but i think either Tony Stark or Bruce Banner are my second bc they’re smart as hell, I’m jealous), Danny Phantom (Up until Phantom plant cause that wasn’t a great ep honestly, but Danny probably for connection, cause I too had the dream of being an astronaut as a kid). Good Omens (I listen to a lot of Queen, though Crowley doesn’t really get to choose that--but I’m more like Aziraphale, cause I hoard all the books) LotR and the Hobbit (I need to reread them tbh, but def all the Hobbits. I’m all about food) I’m wracking my brain here, and making this post super long lol..... I think I’m just gonna leave it at that cause my brain decided to malfunction, but I know there’s more

11. describe your ideal day.

I wake up, having slept in (though not too late, cause then I feel cruddy) and have cup of Assam tea (my chill morning tea that I don’t get to drink that often) and relax on the couch for a mo. Maybe I get some writing done or crack open a book, but maybe I don’t. I might watch a movie, but most likely, I’d have an old tv show I’ve seen a billion times on in the background. That put a record on. And I’d totally wanna bake something. Most likely dessert, but ya never know, maybe I feel like bread. This is more a chilly, foggy/rainy day scenario. Not heavy rain or storm though. That’d be something else entirely. 

On the other hand, for a hot summer day, I wake up late, skip the tea (or go for something stronger, like an English breakfast tea). Probably go for cereal, then go outside. Pretending I have a pool in this scenario, I’d probably just float around and soak up some sun, eat some fruit and pop-sickles. Maybe have a bonfire that night with s’mores. Gotta have s’mores. Lol. That was my 16th birthday. All I did was make hot dogs and s’mores. 10/10

[beagleshep]

Parade/today recap!

We made it to the parade with 10 minutes to spare. Got really cruddy spots at first, lots of people walking all around us.

I was able to have her sit on my feet, which worked out great! She sat on my feet for the first half hour. During that time, a whole thing of fire rescue went by... didn’t realize that I still had ptsd with that but YES I DO. Was really close to crying when Elektra looked up at me and blinked and she helped. She’s super sweet. They had their sirens on and honked their horns and she didn’t even flinch.

Something she did like though? The marching bands! Our poor dog friend Ollie got traumatized by the loud drums of the very first band so she was freaking out the rest of the parade :/ Elektra was more interested than anything.

At this point it started to drizzle, so people started leaving. By the end it was full on raining and we were almost the only ones there! It was SO cold!! But, that means we ended up getting front row seats which I absolutely loved.

Elektra’s favorite thing was these itty bitty cars that zipped back and forth. So glad she got to experience them! She was close to jumping onto the parade to chase them, I wish I could buy one for her tbh lol

She also liked the color guard :)

And got to end with meeting Santa!! So glad she got to experince all of this. She was such a trooper and I’m so proud of her for not spoiling at all.

After we went to our favorite garden center so we could enjoy free hot drinks and popcorn and see all the Christmas decorations. We ended up meeting a harp player that fell in love with the dogs, and Elektra really enjoyed his music and scratches. They had free punch which Elektra got some of and all around it was great!

Until I had to pee.

They have big, beautiful bathrooms there. Each stall is its own *room* and it’s plentiful space and well thought out. Elektra took two steps in before I realized... she. Was. Traumatized.

I’ve never seen my confident puppy lay down in total fear before. Whether it was the black and white tile or the texture of the floor she absolutely shut down. I was tempted to pick her up and carry her out but I had to go so badly :( she wouldn’t take any level of treats and had her head glued to the floor. I could hardly get her out of the bathroom.

Once she stepped out though she happy jumped, shook the stress off, and took all kinds of treats and was totally recovered. I have to say despite that misstep, I’m beyond impressed with her recovery time!

We ended the night at petsmart where she was great as always. Found a bag of clearance food she can actually eat so now that’s our emergency stash of food in case something happens to our auto ship. Overall a great day!!

[koi-dog-bot]

ABOUT THE MUSE . REPOST DO NOT REBLOG .

GENERAL

Name: Juke (formerly Crash Course)

Nickname(s): Jukey, Jukebox, Little Slagger, Wiggly Twerp, “That Dog”, various height-inspired insults

Age: Old to the young, young to the old, miserably between both descriptions

Morality: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / grey / evil

Species: Cybertronian, Quadruped Minicon

PERSONAL

Sins: lust / greed / gluttony / sloth / pride / envy / wrath

Virtues: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice

Primary goals in life: To have fun like he couldn't do for millennia (to find peace...)

Build: slender / scrawny / bony / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / baby fat / pudgy / obese

PHYSICAL

Height: 7ft at the shoulder

Weight: No more than a small hatchback

Scars/Birthmarks: His whole backside and haunches is riddled with fine weld lines and scars, faded and worn, hes polished them some over the years but just haven't really found the time to do a better job filling them in. His spark shows signs of faded/broken symbiotic/host bonds (and stress from stunted growth)

Abilities/powers: highly advanced vocal mimicry down to the smallest frequency (which he uses for trouble more often than not) and vast, archival-level memory storage

FAVORITES

Favorite food: Sweets, especially sour ones

Favorite drink: sweeter ones, or something warm if hes feeling cruddy

Favorite color(s): purple of any shade, shiny colors like metallics or pearls

Favorite music genre: electronic, modular synth, some genres of rap, instrumentals, LOTS of remixes and covers

Favorite book genre: Adventure, fantasy, romance

Favorite movie genre: comedies, action flicks, rom-coms

Favorite season: Summer

Favorite curse word(s): Fragger/Slagger, whatever new and creative insult of the day

Favorite scent: The hot spiced oil cakes from a stall long gone, his hosts polish and the soot from the racetrack he came home in, the scent of friends and home

FUN STUFF

Bottom or Top: Top in a pinch but def a bottom

Sings in the shower: Absolutely, if he thinks hes alone, kinda off-key

Likes bad puns: YES

tagged by: @chillintel

tagging: @miniconrightsactivist , @vosnianprincess , @boomtanknotboombox , @justaburden , @ whoever else wanna do it and you can tag me as the tagger so i may seeee (because i’m nosy)

[minimotives]

First and foremost:

I am absolutely sorry for the last blog post that you may or may not have seen if you subscribe to this blog (It’s gone now).  I was not hacked but apparently James was.  Also, apparently he was set as a contributor to this blog.  So someone hacked into his account and published some sub-par English (like I have any room to complain!) post about something or another… I am sorry to be a cruddy email in your inbox though and thank you so much for those of you who let me know so I could handle it!  It has been fixed and I’ll do my very best to not let it happen again!

Quick Recap!

So, 13 months, to the day, is how long we were on the road.  And 39,998 miles (I’d like to just round that up bat I can’t do it).  In that time we were able to hit 45 national parks (all of them in the lower 48 excluding 4 island parks accessible only by boat or plane).  We can all, including Denver, say we’ve been to 48 of the 50 states.

I did technically take a computer but it was not easy to hook it up to the internet (I attached via phone).  Then, every time I did my computer wanted to update.  So any time I wanted to write a blog post I had to basically wait 2-4 hours and hope I remembered enough to scribble it down.  As you can see, I think I wrote about 6 blog posts the whole time we were out and that was from my phone (its not easy to blog via touch pad!).  I’m sorry for that but it was a lot more fun exploring the country!!  Hopefully, if you wanted you were able to find us on Instagram where I still updated.

We left in the middle of some hot and heavy tiny house discussions and it’s pretty much been tabled the whole time we were away.  We are very happy to be back thought to finish working through the nuances and hopefully make it easier to live tiny in Idaho at least!

Before That Happens Though:

We have to find a home base.  The thought of mooching off any family while we figure it out is not appealing.  We have great tenants in our ‘real’ house and have no ambition to kick them out just so we could live there a little while.  We can’t occupy the tiny house. Short term (or long term) rentals are astronomical in Boise right now. (Click here for a special link to Yahoo about our hometown)

This left us with one logical answer.  When James moved in to the tiny he never fully downsized.  He just kind of put his things in boxes and then built a basic, detached garage for his ‘real house’, then stored all of his stuff in there.  So we’re converting that garage into some temporary housing for our family of four!

Our Anniversary

We didn’t just end our trip 13 months to the day after take off, we also ended it one our anniversary.  Every year we take a family photo in front of our home as a snapshot of the year.  I am glad to get another picture with ‘Lil Beastie! (our camper).  Here are our anniversary photos to date, I wonder what next year’s will look like! ha!

We lead a pretty cool life, I am so glad I, on a whim, started taking these pictures!

Year six, can you believe we were on the same vacation as the picture taken one year earlier! 🙂

Year Five, new home on wheels for a while

Year four, no new family members!, yea!

Year three, Miles is just about done cooking!

Year two, surprise baby Hazel!

Year one, the day Denver came to live with us!

First date – who even gets this picture??

Now The Downsizing Begins Again!

James has been hardcore into the real downsizing efforts.  A year on the road has been pretty eye opening for both of us on what we really need (spoiler: less than what we currently own!).  Honestly, I have cleared the tiny house of several truck loads of stuff!  Our kids have grown up in a year and they really don’t need all the baby stuff we had.  James has gone through box upon box.  We’ve taken two truck loads to the dump, were planning a yard sale for anything else.  Whatever doesn’t sell will be donated to start a new life elsewhere.  Hazel and Miles have been going through all their stuff, they are excited to earn money from their toys AND plan on hosting a lemonade stand for cool refreshments.  I absolutely cannot believe the amount of STUFF we have accumulated in our tiny little places!

Building Anew!

After this weekend we really get going!  We will be adding a kitchen, a custom playhouse/fort for the kids, and doing all those little projects that take a garage to a home for a family of four and their dog!  I will try to do updates because its totally relevant to ‘tiny homes’ and living in small spaces.  Sometimes Instagram is just easier for me because it’s quicker (and can be done from my phone).  I will definitely update on the legalities once that conversation gets going too.  I am happy to be back and ready to rock this world again!  In the mean time here are some of my favorite pictures of our adventures!

Also, this is not the end of our travels, we absolutely plan to make it to those four parks we skipped and are already planning our trip to Alaska (my last state) for next summer followed by celebrating James’s 40th birthday next fall in Hawaii!  We should be able to see all these amazing National Parks before too long!

Oh, P.S.

Our cat is mad we are back.  Did you know we had a cat? It’s probably because I am a dog person ;-).

He misses his bachelors pad and all the fancy parties he used to throw! While we were away we had an RFID cat door programmed to his microchip so that he could enter and exit the house at will (but nothing else could).  We set up a camera pointed at his food so we could make sure he was alive and eating.  Any time the food got low we would order another bag from Amazon and have James’s sister or mom run over and fill his dish.  Pretty sure he enjoyed that set up a whole lot more than he enjoys our company!

The Pictures

Tetons NP

Washingtons Peninsula

Cascade NP

Mt. Rainier NP

The Oregon Coast

Crater Lake NP

Redwoods NP

Patricks Point, CA

Everglades NP

Bug watching, She is the best at finding lizards, frogs and catipilars

Bryce Canyon NP

Death Valley NP

Suguaro NP

Florida dog beach

Grand Canyon NP

Yosemite NP

California Free Camping

Zion NP

Zion Hike

Utah Farm

Mesa Verde NP

Black Canyon of the Gunnison NP

The dop of the highest sand dune in North America, Great Sand dune NP

Petrified Forest/Painted Dessert NP

Painted Desert NP

Spring in Death Valley NP

Death Valley

Death Valley Dunes

Joshua Tree NP

Saguaro NP

White Sands NM

White Sands NM

Big Bend NP

One of MANY awesome aquariums (this one is in Mississippi)

Mardi Gras Parade in New Orleans!

Cocoa Beach with Poppy

Furthest South Point in the US

Disney’s Animal Kingdom

Disneys Magic Kingdom

Florida

North Carolina

Playgrounds across America!

Mammoth Cave NP

Smokey Mountain NP

Random Virginia picture (such a pretty state!!)

Shanendoah NP

Shanandoah NP

West Virginia

Washington DC

Wild ponies!!

Birthday Boy in Maine

Furthest east point in the US

Denver could not contain himself around that much water!

thousand Island area in New York

Hot springs

Sibling bonding

Denver got a lot of this!

He learned to fake his first smile and I caught it on camera!

Sand dunes in Michigan

Teddy Roosevelt NP

National Grasslands

Idaho is kinda pretty too 🙂

Learning new tricks

Glacier NP

Teton NP

Mt. Rushmore

Badlands NP

Rocky Mountain NP

Happy Campers!

Colorado bonding

Great Salt Lake

Spiral Jetty, UT

Great Salt Lake

AND… We’re Back! First and foremost: I am absolutely sorry for the last blog post that you may or may not have seen if you subscribe to this blog (It's gone now). 

[marshmallowduelist]

Tagged by @shadowofthelamp​ !

Rules: answer 20 questions and tag 20 followers you would like to know better.

Name: Marisa

Nickname: Mallow

Sign: Taurus 

Height: 5′ 8″

Language spoken: English

Favourite Fruit: Mango

Favourite Scent: spices

Favourite season: Fall or Winter

Favourite Colour: Blue.

Favourite Animal: All are good. 

Coffee, Tea or Hot Chocolate: Coffee 

Average hours of sleep: It varies so much its impossible to say

Favourite Fictional Character: There are many. But since this is a YGO sideblog: Bakura. 

Number of blankets you sleep with: several 

Blog created: May,1, 2017.

Favourite Song: It depends. Lets say “Wonderland Round 3″ (since its my number 1 pump up jam)

Favourite Artist: Don’t really have one. 

Favourite books: Cruddy by Lynda Barry, The Thief of Always by Clive Baker, and the Green Mile by Stephen King.  

Do you have Pets: For sure. 2 cats, 2 dogs, and one old rat 

Are you inked: no and probably never because I am a wussy. 

I’ll tag: Whomever wants to do this!

[morbidmanatee]

Rules: Answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions. lolnope 

Tagged by the fabulous @turretty (turryeety)

Coke or Pepsi: Pepsi Disney or Dreamworks: Um... Disney?

Coffee or Tea: Coffee

Books or Movies: I don’t read as much as I used to and I’ve never really watched a ton of movies 

Windows or Mac: Windows

DC or Marvel: Not much of a superhero person

XBOX or Playstation: PC master race *pretends to be superior with my cruddy computer and 0 tech knowledge*

Dragon Age or Mass Effect: Mass Effect!

Night Owl or Early Riser: Night owl, definitely

Cards or Chess: Cards, I guess, although I don’t really play either

Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate

Vans or Converse: The pair of Nikes I got as a hand-me-down... 8 years ago? 9?

Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar: Who are these people

Fluff or Angst: .........................angst >.>

Beach or Forests: Forests!

Dogs or Cats: Dogs. Hm, if I had to choose I think I’d go cats?

Clear skies or Rain: Rain

Cooking or Eating out: I hate cooking...

Spicy food or Mild food: mild i am Baby

Halloween/Samhain or Solstice/Yule/Christmas: Christmas, although both are good

Would you rather be a little too cold or a little too hot?: Too cold. If it’s too cold you can put on a sweater. What do you do when it’s too hot? Suffer. That’s what you do.

If you could have a superpower, what would it be: Oh gosh there’s way too many superpowers to answer this question

Animation or Live action: Animation

Paragon or Renegade: Usually paragon, sometimes I’ll go through a second playthrough as renegade

Baths or Showers: Showers

Team Cap or Team Iron Man: Neither

Fantasy or Sci-Fi: Fantasy

Do you have 3 or 4 favourite quotes: This question would take too long and too much double-checking of sources to answer

YouTube or Netflix: Youtube

Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: Harry Potter

When do you feel accomplished: After drawing something I’m proud of... or scoring a goal in Lucioball

Star Wars or Star Trek: Neither

Paperback books or Hardback books: I don’t really have a preference Handwriting or Type: Typing, it’s so much easier

Velvet or Satin:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Video games or Movies: Video games

Would you rather be the dragon or own the dragon: Own the dragon

Learning Chinese or Learning Spanish: Maybe Chinese?

Would you rather be able to speak every language or be able to speak to animals: Speak every language, definitely

Be front row for your favourite artists and not meet them, or meet them but have lawn seats : Lawn seats but not meet them I guess, although it depends, if they turned out to be a rotten person then it’d be better not to meet them

City or Countryside: Countryside

Would you rather be a mutant, jedi or wizard: Wizard

Fried pickles or Mozzarella Sticks: Mozzarella sticks

Vampires or Werewolves: Uh... vampires? I’m not partial to either

Pizza or Pasta: Pasta!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Watching a movie at a cinema with the excitement of its night premiere or wait a few days and watch it later more relaxed: I’ve only been to like one midnight premier but it was fun

What is your favourite band or singer? Honestly the answer to this question is usually just whoever I’ve most recently listened to 

What is your favorite fruit?: Maybe kiwi? But in moderation

Fuzzy socks or slippers?: Fuzzy socks

Dusk or Dawn?: Dusk

Would you rather Travel Through Time or Travel Through Alternate Universes?: Which one is less likely to get me killed/cause a rift in time/bring about the Universe War I?

What’s the first book you remember reading? Well, the first book (series) I remember loving when I was old enough to pick my own books was The Unicorns of Balinor

Deep space, or deep sea? BOTH ARE TERRIFYING but definitely the sea

What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? Hm... maybe when someone messaged me out of the blue to ask for drawing tips because they saw my self portrait in the charcoal tag

Would you rather play a physical sport or a sports video game? Video game

Favorite baked good? Hm... snickerdoodle cookies?

Do you like horror video games?

I tag anyone who’s wants to!