#put some butter and honey on that bitch.

[lazywitchling]

When I find myself in times of trouble, Kirbie Cravings comes to me, speaking words of wisdom: 2 ingredient microwave bread.

[razorblade180]

Sunny Side

Whitley:Ruby. Wake up. *shakes her*

Ruby:Mmm, where’s the fire? It’s like five in the morning.

Whitley:It’s strawberry season in Patch.

Ruby:I am aware….

Whitley:Let’s gets some fresh fruit in breakfast. You can sleep on the airship.

Ruby:Okay- wha?

[The airship]

Ruby, half awake:….*looks to the right*

Winter: *listening to music*

Sparrow:I bet I can fly this.

Penny:Sir, please sit down. I already have a co-pilot.

Oscar:That is- he is a literal retired soldier.

Jaune and Weiss:*reading*

Nick and Summer:Zzzz

Ruby:Uncle Qrow?

Qrow:*playing cards* Yeah?

Ruby:We married rich.

Qrow:Is that sinking in now?

Ruby:Little bit.

Nora:And we’re reaping the benefits.

Ren:Whitley just didn’t want to feel your anger about a breakfast trip.

Valerie:*writing* I’m not complaining. My book report wasn’t finished.

Ruby:…Baaaaabe?

Whitley:What’s up sleepyhead.

Ruby:Can we make a detour?

xxxxxxx

Bzzz bzzz b-

Yang:*grabs scroll* Uuuuggh. Where’s the fire?

Ruby:Look outside bitch.

Yang rolls out of bed and practically crawls to her window where Blake is staring to see a fancy airship hovering near her house.

Ruby:Grab your pants, wife, and child. We’re gonna make mom’s pancakes.

Yang:….Sure.

xxxxxx

Whitley:Welcome to the breakfast express.

Yang:You need less money.

Blake:I bought some honey, syrup, and spices my mom made.

Whitley:This is why you’re my favorite member.

Ruby and Weiss:Wow that’s craaazy.

Veronica casually walks on board in her pjs and heads straight towards the twins without a second thought. She picks up a sleepy Summer that leans on her brother and moves her one seat down, then sits down. She tugs Summer so she falls back in place, offering her own right arm as a substitute while resting her head on Nick before promptly going back to sleep.

Yang:…At least she was nice about it.

xxxxxx

Knock Knock Knock

Tai:*opens door* ….Strawberry picking?

Yang and Ruby:Hehe, yeah.

Tai:I’ll go grab your old baskets.

xxxxxxx

Nick was used to the rich life, but even had to admit it was pretty surreal to be at home in the cold one moment, then woken up a few hours later to put on a sunhat and pick some berries. Everyone this morning was just…cool with it. This was life right now. Singing early birds and strawberry baskets.

Nick:Wasn’t there school today?

Summer:Don’t be lame and keep picking. Gods it smells nice out here. I’m a little jealous we don’t come here more often.

Valerie:The sun has barely risen and yet it’s so warm.

Veronica:Country air smells different from the sea or city life. I visit Gramps occasionally and even I’m not used to it. It’s pretty jarring.

Summer:Kinda like waking up in a different plane seat.

Veronica:If that’s what you want to compare it too.

Summer:Don’t sweep that under the rug!!!

xxxxx

Ruby:Pancakes 🎶

Yang:Whoop whoop🎶

Weiss:Pancakes 🎶

Winter.Whoop Whoop🎶

Nora:Pancakes pancakes pancakes pancakes🎶

Ren:Buttermilk, Strawberry, shortcake, or tall!🎶

Jaune:You already know I’m eating them all!🎶

Qrow :Crack a few eggs and hash a few browns!🎶

Tai:Put em on my plate and I’m gonna chow down!🎶

Penny:Grab a plate and some friends to tag along…🎶

Everyone:Took making cooking fun with the breakfast song!🎶

All the kids slowly set the table as they watched the grown ups cut up fruit, flip pancakes, pour drinks, and butter pans.

Veronica:You’re not gonna sing?

Blake:There are enough people in that kitchen.

Oscar:Yeah satisfied fixing chairs.

Whitley:*sitting* Zzzz

Sparrow:This guy planned everything and now decides to sleep!? *pokes face*

Ruby:Leave him alone!

Sparrow:Did she even turn around?

Oscar:Did she really need to with you?

xxxxxx

It took about half an hour before the smell of breakfast was rich enough to wake Whitley just in time. Now it was his who was wide awake as she happily carried trays in hand alongside Yang, Weiss, and Penny; they happily danced side to side in messy aprons as they put food on the table for everyone. Nora would’ve joined if she could be trusted, and Winter was happily on Nora restraint duty.

Stacks of strawberry pancakes in the shape of roses and buttermilk pancakes in the form of the sun were presented with hash browns, eggs, sausage, biscuits, ham, the whole spread and additional goodies for everyone to eat. They took their seat and looked at Whitley as if he wanted to make some grand speech.

Whitley:*smiles* You waiting for an invitation? *raises glass* To a good day.

Everyone:To a good day!

Not a moment was wasted passing around plates. Whitley went to grab a fork when his empty plate was suddenly replaced with a full breakfast by Ruby. The lady quickly cut a piece of the pancake drizzled in cinnamon syrup and raised to his face to make him blush.

Ruby:Thank you for the trip. Now say aaah~

Whitley:I-In front of everyone?

Ruby:Don’t be shy now. It’s just for the first bite. It’s tradition here. Then you give me a bite.

Qrow:If your sister can do it, you can too.

Winter:*chews shamefully*

They look at Weiss to see her eat off of Jaune’s fork without hesitation. She even opens her mouth again to receive another bite before giggling. Meanwhile the likes of Penny, Nora, and Blake, treated this like an everyday occurrence. With a display like that, Whitley had no choice but to summon the courage to say “aah” and get fed a bite.

Ruby:How is it!?

Whitley:…I can go for another.

[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - Beau Arlen Prompt Response

Summary: He put you with Hoyt and Tonya. For the day. What the hell had he been thinking?

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I couldn't resist. I love Beau so much.

Thank you to my beta @rieleatiel for her services. You rock, girl!

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Female!Reader; Beau Arlen x Female!DeputySheriff!Reader

Warnings: sex (smut-light); implied sex; mention of violence; mention of injury

Word Count: 2486

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Beau Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

This was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ CJ version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Leah version ✨ Alec version

You made your way past everyone in the station, intent on one office in particular.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Poppernak greeted you with a grin. His smile slowly faded as he took in your expression. “Everything okay?”

“Just dandy,” you spat, surging past him. His eyes widened and he quickly got out of your way. If you were pissed and heading where it looked like you were heading, then he knew the best thing to do was to stay out of your way and possibly duck for cover. He hoped that when all was said and done that the office was still standing… as well as its sheriff.

You stormed into Beau’s office and slammed the door behind you. The man in question, who was on the phone, frowned and turned to see you standing in place, fuming. You were pretty sure he could see steam coming out of your ears from the bugging of his eyes and his hurry to get off the call he was on.

“Gotta run, Jas. Get back to me as soon as you have something. Thanks.” He quickly hung up the phone.

“Who’s Jas?” You seethed as he studied you, most likely determining how to respond.

Apparently choosing to try to butter you up, he gave you a bright smile. “Jas — Jasmine from Tech. You know that, honey, you’ve met her.”

You snorted and slowly approached his desk. “Don’t you honey me, Arlen.”

“Why?” He chuckled nervously, a response he had when he was anxious or becoming so. If you were using his last name, you were definitely pissed. “What’s wrong, darlin’?” Beau saw your eyes flash and he knew he had said the wrong thing. Oh boy.

“What’s wrong?” You asked in disbelief. “What’s wrong?!”

He knew better than to say anything else, especially since you were repeating his words in a rhetorical-yet-sarcastic manner. Besides, he knew you were going to tell him whether he wanted to hear it or not.

“What’s wrong is you sent me out with Hoyt all day.”

Beau relaxed a little, thinking maybe it had been something worse: a forgotten birthday, or maybe he was supposed to have done something you asked him to do but he didn’t — that kind of thing. “I did, but what’s wrong with that? You two have been getting along better these days and you work great together.” Your eyes narrowed and Beau realized he was in for a world of shit. He had tried to be complimentary and positive, but apparently that was the wrong way to go.

“What’s wrong is that you sent me out with her for the day. With Tonya.”

Beau briefly closed his eyes. He should have known this would come back to bite him in the ass. The truth was he had been caught off guard himself and had to quickly scramble to make it work. 

Seeing him hang his head, you hissed, “Yeah, exactly.”

Tonya and Donno, for some reason, had not moved on after everything that happened with Paige and the 15 million. All of you knew that the two had most likely gotten what they sought after; why they remained in town instead of taking off to some tropical paradise that catered to those wishing to remain anonymous was a mystery. You happened to think Tonya had something else up her sleeve, but like Beau had said: unless there was evidence of some kind of crime happening, there was nothing that could be done. You also thought that Beau and Hoyt were both purposely looking in other directions when it came to Tonya and Donno because the latter two had helped them in dire situations involving their family members. You didn’t really care about Tonya or Donno, but from what your friends had told you, both had put the group through the wringer — and often, at that. You had no desire to see that happen again so you’d rather see them skip town altogether instead of sticking around to further scheme things that could end up getting your friends hurt in some way.

Unfortunately, Tonya had risen in the ranks of realty; she was now one of Helena’s most sought after real estate agents, so much so that she had become friendly with the mayor and even began rubbing shoulders with some county officials. For some strange reason, out of the blue, Tonya decided she wanted to do a ridealong with law enforcement — your department specifically, today of all days. Beau, in a spur of the moment, decided to spare Pops and the rest of his department as well as himself, so naturally, you got saddled with that duty as did Hoyt. You knew Hoyt and Tonya didn’t get along, yet you had no idea just how much the two women hated one another. You basically spent the whole day keeping Hoyt from arresting the woman on some trumped up charge, keeping Hoyt from her own would-be assault charge, and endured hours upon hours of bickering. Tonya constantly — and loudly — questioned the two of you as you did your job, in front of perps, bystanders, and witnesses alike. She even told a suspect you were handcuffing — with a wink — that she knew a good lawyer who also happened to specialize in police brutality. The man decided to go all Mike Tyson and had knocked Hoyt down with a punch and tried to take a swing at you, forcing you to outmaneuver him and slam him onto the hood of your car to swiftly get his arms behind his back and regain control of the situation. But according to her, you were using brutality with him. Sure. You may have snapped out that she should get her ass back in the car before she’d join him, causing a smug smirk to form on the woman’s face. “I’ll get you that number,” she told the man, and then slinked back into the car. You grit your teeth and handed the suspect over to a deputy, going to check on Hoyt who was back on her feet, prodding at a bloody cut on her lip.  

Tonya had been a grade-A pain in the ass all day and she seemed to get off on irking both of you, Hoyt especially. And not once did Beau ever give you a heads-up on just what you would be facing after willfully sacrificing you and throwing you into the mess without a second of hesitation. For someone who used to be your partner back in the day, he sure hadn’t acted like one today. How could you not be pissed? 

Hoyt wasn’t happy with Beau either, but she was currently getting looked at by a doctor due to your insistence. Cassie had met you both at a walk-in clinic and she was waiting to drive Hoyt back once the blonde got the all-clear. Tonya had scampered off the minute you put your car in park, chirping how much she enjoyed today and thanking you for showing her how Lewis & Clark County’s finest did for their county day to day. Before you could retort, she was gone and you knew she definitely had something in the works that was not going to bode well for any of you in the long run. However, at that moment, you were so pissed you could barely see straight and you only had one destination in mind: Beau’s office. So here you were, infuriated and ready to send heads rolling. How could he do that? To you of all people? 

Beau sighed and got to his feet, rounding his desk to sit on the edge. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting that today and when she requested Hoyt… I could’ve sent Pop, but I didn’t think he’d be able to shut any crap down as quickly as you would. That’s why I sent you with them. But, I should’ve been the one to go, not you, and I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you should’ve been,” you hissed, crossing your arms.

He nodded and, after a moment, he reached out a hand.

You snorted in disbelief. “Really?”

Beau didn’t say anything, only moved his hand in a come hither motion, holding it out for you to take.

You let out an angry sigh and rolled your eyes, but moved forward to place your hand in his nonetheless. He pulled you to him, framed your face with his hands, and softly kissed you. You refused to kiss him back but ultimately, like always, you lost the battle and gave in, gently grasping one of his wrists as you did. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered to your lips.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“I promise.” He kissed you once more and you began to relax and melt into him, even going so far as to wrap your arms around his neck and slot your mouth against his more insistently. He released your face and circled his arms around your waist, picking you up so he could place you on his lap, your knees bracketing his hips as you straddled him. You could feel the tell-tale bulge pressing against you. You could definitely use some stress relief after the day you had, yet still —

“I’m still mad at you,” you panted harshly as he pressed kisses down your jaw line, his hands roaming insistently on your lower back. You weren’t surprised when a moment later they traveled further south and squeezed while he moved you back and forth over his growing arousal.

“As you should be,” he murmured, trailing his lips down your neck. “Matter of fact, I think you should show me how mad. Right here, right now.” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he began to suck on that spot right below your ear, the spot he knew drove you crazy. 

“I hate you,” you moaned, beginning to grind against him more insistently.

“You have a weird way of showing that, darlin’,” he chuckled, one hand on your hip now to help your movements. He bit his lip watching you grind on him and he let out a throaty groan. “Fuck, I ever tell you how much I love it when you get all riled up like this and you need to get it out of your system? Because I do. Hell, maybe I oughta do something that pisses you off every so often so you can— ” 

“Shut up,” you growled and covered his mouth with yours, plunging your tongue deep inside to taste him and effectively shut him up. You were practically riding him on his desk and he was doing everything he could to hold onto you while keeping upright. At one point, you got so turned on, you broke away and began unbuckling his belt, desperate to get inside his jeans. 

“Door’s not locked,” he panted out though he didn’t move to stop you. 

“Don’t care.” Normally, you would have cared, but the infuriating bastard was right: you had all the pent up anger and frustration from today coursing through your system. You needed to get it out, now. You yanked his belt through his belt loops and tossed it to the floor. “And just so we’re clear,” you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, reaching inside and grabbing him, making him hiss when you gave him a couple of pumps with your hand. “We are not done talking about this.” You got to your feet and quickly whipped off your jacket and shirt, leaving you in only your lacy bra. You stripped down and then gently pulled him out of his jeans. You climbed back up and stared down into those fierce green eyes that were currently blown wide with lust. Despite mentioning it, he didn’t seem too bothered by the unlocked door either. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hoped Poppernak and Madge didn’t walk in on something they couldn’t unsee because you highly doubted either of you would stop. You were both too worked up, especially you, and you were the one in control. Nothing short of a natural disaster or act of God would keep you from working the tension out of your body. Your phone buzzed on the floor, most likely a text from Cassie to let you know she was bringing Hoyt back to the station. Besides, you had a feeling that Pops witnessing your fury earlier and all of them out there hearing the never before slammed door, they most likely knew they should probably knock first before entering the Sheriff’s office. 

“Now, we have exactly twenty-five minutes, thirty if we’re lucky, before Hoyt gets here to rip you a new one herself. Think you can manage to make it up to me and have me all relaxed by then, cowboy?” You challenged.

His answer was to line himself up with you and push into you, making you gasp as his other hand gently pulled your hip down so you would sink fully onto him. You both groaned at the feeling and he gave you his own challenging smirk. “I think you better start moving,” he growled. “Because if she’s going to kill me, I intend to die a happy man. Which means I’m going to be buried deep in you, sweetheart, with you making a mess all over me for the fourth time.”

“Four? That’s super ambitious,” you teased. You began to move and pressed your lips together, balancing your hands on his clothed chest. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let her kill you. I love this way too much… And you.”

The fire in his eyes dimmed slightly and he suddenly shot up, making you adjust a little to stay on him, and he cupped your chin. “I love you, too, and darlin’...I am sorry.” You knew he was, you could hear it in his voice and see it deep in his green gaze. You gave him a soft nod and a tender smile, pecking his lips — one final sweet moment —before you pushed him back down onto the now cleared desk and resumed your position once more. He let out a chuckle at the devious smirk plastered on your lips.

“You will be,” you promised in a tease. You then went about working your frustrations out, Beau keeping to his prediction of getting you to a point that you were very relaxed (and mostly dressed albeit in need of a serious shower) by the time Hoyt stormed into his office. And just as you had promised, you made sure he survived Hurricane Hoyt and you even let him drive you home, his hand on your thigh most of the ride. You were pretty confident that he wouldn’t be making the mistake of throwing you to the wolves again anytime soon but you ended up enticing him to pull over into a discreet area to serve up a reminder once more just in case.

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banner by @cafekitsune

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[soulc-hilde]

Welcome to the Wild

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x OFC! Caden

Synopsis: No longer about her future, Caden spirals as the rug is once again pulled from underneath her feet. Living her days in a silent shell, she forces herself into her work. Noted as the restaurant's Mute Pâtissier, the stuttering eyes of her boss always finds themselves attached to her. Studying her. Like some animal in the wild.

Divider by @strangergraphics-archive

“Honey, how are those buns comin’, love?” Mickey’s deep voice calls over the chaos of the kitchen.

In the far corner, blocked off from the madness was his sole baker, prepared for war and unbothered with the onslaught of orders. She pulls out the third baking tray of rolls and places them inside the rack before turning to coat a tray of recently cooled ones with honey butter. The perfect, golden rolls absorb the butter. Droplets run down its sides slowly, the bread appearing like a professional photograph.

“First three trays are finished,” she calls back, not a pause in her pace noticeable.

The Berzatto nods, a grin taking over his chiseled features as he watches her work. “Atta’ girl,” he compliments, hustling on with the service. Afterwards as the staff gathered for Family, everyone talking and laughing, Caden looks over at the man who seemed to bring ease into her life.

“Why that name?” She asks, quietly. He looks over at her, stumped at the question.

“What name you talkin’ about, Honey?” He retorts, eyebrows scrunched. She nods his way, “that one. Honey. Where’d you even get that from?”

This time he looks down at his plate, fork shuffling the food around. “Because you’re a good kid, ya know?” He tilts his head up, looking at her.

“You try to push people away, scare ‘em off, but you really just want a family. You want someone to love your sweet soul just as much as you’d love them.”

Caden scoffs, playfully, shaking her head. “The day that someone can look me in my eyes and say ‘I love you’ and mean that shit, pigs’ll start flyin’.”

She swallows a fork full of collard greens and a bit of turkey tail in the mix, eyebrows scrunching happily. Mickey looks at her, his shy gaze steeled as he stares through her. The once mute kid Tina brought to his office like a lost kitten has become the rambunctious, scatterbrained little sister he never asked for but appreciated.

He chuckles, “just be happy it’s ‘Honey’ and not ‘Squirrel.’ kiddo.”

She sends a playful glare, chubby cheeks stuffed with food. “Hey, my ADHD ain’t a joke,” she tries to scold yet her words come out jumbled and slurred.

He smiles, leaning forward, ear facing her, “what was that? I couldn’t hear you over those stuffed cheeks, Squirrel.”

“Go to Hell,” she mumbles, going back to her food, ignorant of his eyes watching her with a soft gaze.

---

No one really goes into details about the hero of the story dying and how their loved ones, their supporters, deal with it. For Caden, Michael's death wasn't that big of a shocker. No one lives forever unless you're the Devil's favorite. Mickey was the most stereotypical older brother anyone could ever meet.

The stand-in father. Believes everyone is better off without him. The one who puts up with his abusive mother's shit, not because he's an enabler but the little boy who watched it all go to shit just can't let go.

God, she missed him. Despite having her own older brothers, Caden was doomed from the start, as if neglect and trauma was all she was destined for. No friends, a negligent mother, an ill father, and avoidant brothers.

But, Michael was her brother, though.

When Tina brought her to The Beef, all the poor girl had was a backpack of clothes, her grandfather's saving, and desperation. Michael took her in, watched her bake and turn the pastries she once drew into a reality like some magician.

If only she knew how much she reminded him of Carmen.

"Those two'll bitch each other out, but they'd be one hell of a front." He'd think with that smile he'd carry as if everything was gonna be okay.

Maybe she shouldn't have answered her phone that night. She should've declined his offer, make up some lame excuse like homework.

No. Even if that was the last memory of him she had, she'd much prefer that they were together rather than apart.

---

"Cousin," Richie's microphone for a voice rings off the kitchen walls. "You may already know some of these guys, seeing as they've been here longer than me. Tina, Ebra, Angel, Manny, and finally, the soul of the team, Honey."

Caden side eyes the men, lazily looking at them for a moment before sending a nod toward the short, curly haired one. Just as quick as she turned, she resumes back to her station, sorting her spices and chocolates. Behind, Richie simply waves her off, blowing a rasberry.

"Don't mind her. The name's sweet, but, uh, she's kind of dark." He warns the younger man. Ebra leans over, "her name's Caden. If you're a smart boy, you'd call her that."

Richie scoffs, "c'mon, this is Carmy, we're talkin' about. Mikey's little brother? It works out, perfectly, the Bears and their honey."

Walking past, Caden smacks her hand against the back of head, beelining for the walk-in. The man winces, rubbing the heated spot with a grimace, glaring at her back.

Inside the walk-in, she glares at the bananas, aggressively picking them off the shared stem. Why the fuck would he say some shit like that? Makin' it sound like some damn affair happened between her and Mike.

She'll fucking kill him if he keeps going. Marching back to her corner, her blank eyes fall onto the man, or Carmy's, blue eyes. He was obviously watching, waiting for her to walk out.

He walks over as she begins chopping a peeled banana into perfectly symmetrical slices. "I'm, uh, Carmen," he practically whispers, fingers pinching at his bottom lip.

"I'm sorry... uh, about, about Richie. He's an asshole, doesn't know when he's gone too far," he continues.

She nods, lost amongst the rhythm she subconsciously follows with every cut. "Have you, uh, have you ever went to culinary school?"

Her hand comes to a stop, her attention now focusing on him. Rather than snap, she curls her plump lips inward and bites down before shaking her head.

He nods, shrugging, "i, I was just wonderin', ya know? With the way you, uh, take, take care of your station, it's, uh. It's experienced."

"OCD," she whispers.

Her eyes return to the cutting board, hands frozen in place to memorize the exact width she had cut. Finishing the first one, she grabs the second, mimicking the actions of the first time, not a step different or seconds behind.

Laying the bare fruit beside the chopped pieces of its twin, she places her hands in a starting position. Left hand gripping the fruit, index and thumb pressed gently against her cutting mark that matched exactly to the ones beside it.

Carmen watches, fascinated, as the embodiment of silence works in an ongoing loop of repetition, shutting him out from her world. Her fucked up world of madness.

"You enjoyin' the show or some'?" A voice questions him, snapping the man from his thoughts.

Turning to face the intruder, his eyebrows raise with panic as Tina glares up at him. The corner of her top lip is pinned up, teeth bared as if she was prepared to mame him.

"Uh, no, not. It's not, it's not like that," he rushes to his defense. Her eyebrows raise, expression shifting to one of aghast. "Oh, so, you don't think she's beautiful? Talented? What, you too good for this place?"

He jaw jolts, brain short-circuiting as the older woman rapidly fires assumptions his way. He knew coming through the restaurant as a nobody was a risk. He may have been Michael's baby brother, the star in his eyes, but they only knew Carmen by his words. To them, Carmen was a fantasy character. The kid that stood in front of them was just a stranger, the stranger who was also their new boss.

"Tia," the woman calls, finished slicing the bananas. She turns to glare at the two. "Do you mind? I've got a system going on, right now. Take the playground shit somewhere else, yeah?"

Unlike the staff built up of Chicago natives and ethnic backgrounds - Latino and Italian being the majority, she didn't yell. Regardless of how far she stood from anyone, she never even raised her voice in a way to project her words. She just talked, casually, and if you heard her than you heard her.

If you didn't? Well, tough shit cause she won't repeat herself.

Her voice was mellow and naturally rested at a low octave. Her accent nowhere near the Chicago accent, it was more of a general midwest/southern accent. Her words relied heavily on the southern part of her dialect. It was as if she was a puzzle that just kept scrambling, creating greater confusion than understanding.

"Yeah, system, mija," Tina nods, a condescending smile taking over. "Don't fuck," she points at Carmen, finger just inches from his face. "with the system. Cocotazo."

She walks off, leaving the younger chefs to themselves.

---

In the beginning, he believed that Tina was fucking with him. "The system" was a fucking mess. It was about as sloppy and greasy as the restaurant itself. As the thoroughly trained professional he is, Carmen decided that things were to take a change for the better. The first being to go?

Every fucking red flag that dressed the staff like some high-end jacket. And God, did they fucking complain. Turn into children with their stomps, glares, and petty insults aimed at him no matter what he did.

Just simply asking for the chefs to keep up with proper hygiene outside of the typical washing hands with soap for 20 seconds resulted in a 'fuck you' and 'don't fuck with the system.'

Well, fuck me for not wantin' to deal with sick customers, he scoffed at the thought. A breath-filled chuckle releases beside him. Quickly, he looks over to meet eyes with Caden. She leant her right shoulder against the doorway of the office, face seemingly blank but her eyes hummed with warmth.

"I wouldn't wanna deal with these bitches on a regular, much less because they got sick from us," she states, referencing to the statement that rang through his mind.

He straightens, "oh, oh? Di-Did I say that out loud?" She nods, "yeah, you did." She steps further into the office, closing the door behind her. "But that's not what I'm here to talk to you about. Well, actually, it has some connection."

"Okay, uh, here," he stands, leaning over to push out another small metal foldable chair. "Take a, uh, seat. Take a seat." She nods, settling down beside him. "So, what did you wanna talk about?"

Please, don't say you're quitting. Please, don't say you're quitting, his conscience pleas.

"Staff," she starts off. "I love those assholes, but even when Mikey was here and runnin' the show, it was fuckin' chaos. They think they're functioning well because Mikey never corrected them, but we both know they're not."

His eyebrows raise with surprise. "Oh?" he whispers, sitting back in the wheeled chair, fingers pulling at his lips.

"Mh," she nods. "And don't even get me started on the bakery. Before Mikey died, we were workin' togetha' on how to make the bakery faster. Which meant better equipment and shit," she snorts.

"We don't have the money, though. Which leads me to the next suggestion," she leans forward. "We're gonna have to start hirin' some help."

Taglist: @spiderstyles04 @lostinwonderland314

[gortashs-skidmark]

Enver Gortash HEADCANONS

NSFW at the bottom, below the ()()()

+18 MDNI SEXUAL CONTENT

CONTENT WARNING: relationship headcanons, arranged marriage in some, manipulation, established relationship.

*Orange means that particular sentence/piece is CANON but the rest is a headcanon.

ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅

Gortash definitely doesn’t mind being a shit bag. But I think if he took a partner, he would just be manipulative emotionally but not physical. Like he chose a partnership and you just have to put up with some dumb fucking consequences of being in love, that's just how it is. I don’t think he’d shower you in gifts if he loved you but when he gave you something to cherish, it’d be personal, solemn, beautiful. Like him.

If it was arranged, he wouldn’t bat an eye, status is status. He’d only see you as an arm piece. He’d take you to dinner occasionally to check up on you. He would shower you in gifts at the wedding ceremony. For show of course, so your family, friends, patrons, and acquaintances knew you were in cushy hands.

I think Enver’s hands would always been warm. They’re calloused, warm, thicker, comforting when they held your face or braced your thighs. You would put lotion on his hands every night before bed because, you know, you care about him.

He is the man to take the same soap bar he uses on his body for his face, but this is medieval so him washing his face is high maintenance, comparatively. You only suggest he use rose water after he shaves as not to leave irritating skin patches. It makes him smell very sweet.

You are as soft as butter and he is a large man with a delicate hobby like baking, figuratively. His brutish in personality, is shrouded in fancy clothes and ugly ass shoes. But he can talk as calmly as a lake, and comfort you with honeyed words. You are capable of finding solace in him sometimes, if he lets you unburden yourself.

If it’s an arranged marriage, he will listen to your sorrows and complaints when he has time. Other times he’ll say “my dearest, I have not the time for your tears today.” Which breaks your heart. He's yours potentially forever, and he won't carry your burdens like you attempt to with his.

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NSFW HEADCANONS

He gives me very much the same energy as Raphael. Complete bottom. Probably not that good at fucking but he’s got some girth. Girth matters more than length, pls be honest with yourselves.

Not usually on top unless he’s teasing you a lot beforehand. He fucks loud too, verbally and from your bodies crashing over and over against each other.

Like Raphael has Harleep bc he’s a narcissist and they’re sent there by Mephestopheles to distract him. Gortash has you because you’re capable and seen as an equal. Whether you’re the nicest person on earth or the crudest bitch. If you can swindle like him, he sees something beautiful in that.

I think he’s loud and unapologetic during sex. He knows what he wants too and can voice is. He’s the “oh great heavens!” Type too.

Sometimes is a quickie-person, when he yearns for better company at night he removes himself from his workshop and walks to his room to have honey-sweet love, not fuck.

If you’re arranged marriage melds into more, I think he could be fixed. Very. Very. Slowly. You like to walk to the deep cragged shore of Wyrm’s Rock and watch the ocean and pet the moss. He doesn’t get it even if you have a reason to love being by yourself. You ponder harder about the timelessness of nature and the ebb and flow.

He fucks you soft and slow next time, taking the time like you do. He wants to know his partner, he really does. He uses it to stare into your eyes as they flutter from pleasure, he wants what you have. A soul so malleable yet it always know what it is deep down. It’s always whole.

ⓖⓞⓡⓣⓐⓢⓗⓖⓞⓡⓣⓐⓢⓗⓖⓞⓡⓣⓐⓢⓗⓖⓞⓡⓣⓐⓢⓗⓖⓞⓡ

Thank you for reading!! I have more headcanons on my pinned masterlist <3

[tryfonpeixes]

D'ya ever get that awful feeling when you've gone too long without eating? That one where there's this really gross pit in your stomach that actually makes your body sink in. The one that makes your hands shake because you had a small dinner and haven't eaten breakfast yet. The one that makes you salivate so much you feel like a dog, in a bad way. The one that makes your throat hurt and makes you feel like you're about to cry, and then the more you think about it you start to get all choked up and sad?

Joel's too used to that feeling- the feeling of the pit in your stomach when you go without food too long. Being alone means you notice these things, because there's nothing else to notice. He focuses on hunger and how awful it is, and how his hands tremble and he has to swallow a little more thickly every time he gets that feeling. The way that his Adam's apple felt like it was tearing at his throat, desperately clawing to get out.

Well- he's not sure where he's going with this. He's not sure what kind of point he's trying to make so he just tells himself the truth. The feeling reminded him of Jimmy. Beautiful, stubborn, ignorant Jimmy.

When he went so long without Jimmy he swore that there was a pit in his stomach that hurt like that. The kind of one that makes him tell himself he's definitely being overdramatic cause he was fed yesterday. Cause he saw Jimmy yesterday. Jimmy kind of reminded him of that stupid lump in his chest and that shaking feeling in his hands. The feeling of him getting overworked and trying to push himself to his very limit until he literally could not function without eating again. Without seeing Jimmy again.

He's not sure why he's admitting this to himself. He knows this already. God fucking damn it he knew it so well it drove him crazy. He knew he was weak without food, and that he couldn't live without it. He couldn't enjoy himself or anything that he was doing without food.. and he wasn't quite ready to assess that he felt the same way about Jimmy.

You know- he compared Jimmy to food once, just to see if he could find a food that sticks. Something that he could firmly say was a food that reminded him of Jimmy. At first he went with sweeter things, like tiramisu and cream horns and strawberries. Then the thought drifted. Jimmy isn't actually that sweet. He could be a bitch too, sour and leaving a weird taste in your mouth. Not a bad one though. Joel enjoyed the most bitter and sour of foods out there. He could handle a bit of sour from Jimmy.

Jimmy kind of reminded him of a peanut butter and jam sandwich. PB&J was simple, easy enough, well known, and yet so good tasting. What a lot of people might not realize about PB&J is that there are so many ways to ruin it- to mess it up, so they just don't bother to be careful like they would with any other food. After all, it's a PB&J. You wouldn't be so careful with one either, would you? On the flip side, there are so many ways to make a PB&J better, to enhance it's flavour and make it as delicious as it could get. You could toast the bread, butter it too. You could get preserves or expensive peanut butter as well. You could add honey or syrup to make it sweeter- or you could add guacamole to make it savory.

Joel thinks he likes PB&J the way it is. Sometimes he won't be as careful as he should, and tears the bread, but he always makes up for it.

What was he saying again? Right. Jimmy. Jimmy reminded him of all of those things- the things you could do to a PB&J, and how you still wouldn't get it as good as how it's supposed to be. He liked Jimmy the way he was, to be honest. Some people only wanted him for a kiss- or for when he's all cute and bubbly all himbo like. Those people really got on his nerves, actually. Did you think he was really just all of that nonsense he put on for show? Jimmy was smart and crafty, kind of like a fox. He seems a little plain, but he was Joel's favourite. He was Joel's comfort on an early morning when he was hungry, and his hands shook and he felt a lump in his throat.

Joel gets up. He thinks he might have a sandwich.

Tag:

@zedif-y

[whumpshaped]

Beck being sick with the flu and Helle not caring?

-- @oliversrarebooks

this is actually something i wanted to write thank u for reminding me. well i mean just beck being sick in general, but yea we'll go w the flu, thats a bitch of an illness

coming back to add this after finishing: well this wasnt what i was going for, but apparently we unlocked some more tragic backstory

masterlist

tw some magic mind scrambling, but honestly?? not much- it's a sickfic, so fever dreams and the like... emotional whump, maybe- vampire carewhumper

Beck had never felt so sick in his entire life.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but this was definitely among the top five grossest illnesses he had ever come down with. His entire body was like a furnace, and yet he was shivering uncontrollably, even under two thick blankets.

He desperately wished there was someone to take care of him. He could barely keep his eyes open all day, could barely walk with the dizziness, the fatigue, and the muscle pain, and he couldn't even refill his water bottle periodically, let alone make himself some soup. He mostly just slept, slipping in and out of consciousness.

He'd considered calling his mother, briefly. She had always been so kind. Doting. She would've made him toast with honey and butter and cut it up into the smallest pieces for him to eat. He missed her a lot, he realised. But she couldn't come to his apartment after he'd made it so unsafe. He would just have to tough it out like an adult.

He knew there was no way Helle would just skip a visit. Skip dinner. They would barge in, rip the blankets away from him, and feed. He would just have to put up with it, as always, and maybe... maybe then, he could ask them to refill his water bottle. Would they actually do that? Or would they laugh and leave him to figure it out on his own? His eyes fluttered closed again, and he drifted into another two-hour nap.

"Oh, that is a sad sight. Oh dear..." Beck forced himself to look up, his unfocused eyes settling on the blurry outline of the vampire. He didn't have his glasses, and he was too tired to get them. "What do we have here?"

"'m sick," he croaked out, immediately made aware of his dehydration by how dry his throat and mouth were. "S-sorry."

Helle walked inside, and Beck had to close his eyes again. He was so exhausted. He'd done nothing but slept all day, and he could barely tolerate being awake for a minute. "I can see that," they said quietly. "Do you... have everything you need?"

"Water... I'm so thirsty, please..."

"Have you not drunk all day?" It almost sounded accusatory, in a way. Were they scolding him? He could hear Helle pick up his water bottle from the nightstand and leave the room, and he had never felt more grateful to them. He would've gone the whole night without drinking if they hadn't come, probably.

He tried to sit up against the headboard, but it proved more difficult than he anticipated. Especially with the two blankets; they were heavy, but Beck couldn't imagine being without them for even a second.

Helle came back with a full bottle of fresh water, sitting down on the edge of his bed without a word and gently helping him drink. They placed it on the nightstand afterwards, watching as Beck slid back down into a more horizontal position.

"Thank you," he said earnestly. Helle didn't even respond.

"Have you eaten?" He shook his head, and the vampire scoffed. "Alright." They stood up and left again, closing the bedroom door behind themself. Beck could pick out the faint sounds of a phonecall, but he had no idea what it was about. He fell asleep before Helle came back into the room.

For the next hour, he didn't even know what was or wasn't a dream. He felt something cold on his forehead, then also on his hand. He heard some gentle murmurs and whispers, too quiet to make out the words. He saw his mother for a split second, and he reached out towards her. The vampire, he wanted to say. Get out of here, mom. There's a vampire here. It's not safe. The image disappeared before he could've reached her.

"Beck," someone said softly, and he opened his eyes. "Come on, dear. Sit up."

Helle was holding a tray, but he couldn't really tell what was on it from where he lay. With great effort, he pushed himself up against the headboard again, letting the vampire please the plastic tray in his lap. There was a bowl of still steaming soup sitting on top, along with a cup of tea and some medicine.

"Where did you get the soup..?" he asked slowly, looking up at them in awe. Confused, definitely, but in awe.

"I ordered some. I took money out of your wallet." Well, that was a bit less considerate. Helle grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and handed them to him, then sat on his bed again. "Contrary to what you may be inclined to believe, I do not wish for my bloodbag's untimely death. So eat."

"It's just the flu," he mumbled, and he could've sworn he saw a flash of... something, in Helle's eyes. Anger? "I'm gonna be okay. But, but thank you. Really. I'm... I'm incredibly grateful for this."

They rolled their eyes and looked away from him, letting him eat his dinner in peace. They seemed restless, Beck noted while he sipped on his tea. There was a generous amount of honey in it, and for a moment, he wondered how Helle used to drink their tea back when they were still alive.

"Is... is something wrong?" he asked eventually, and Helle shook their head.

"Are you finished?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

They took the tray and disappeared, and Beck found he was feeling a little less dead with all that food in his system. His fever was still making him disoriented and hazy, but at least he could make a trip to the bathroom without feeling like he was going to pass out.

At some point during the night, he could feel Helle crawl into bed with him, pulling him flush against their refreshingly cold body. Half-asleep as he was, it didn't even freak him out a lot. It just felt good.

"You are way too warm," they murmured.

"'m sick," he responded, as though Helle didn't already know. Spurred on by a sudden burst of feverish courage, he took their hand and placed it on his face, enjoying the cool.

"You are so sick," they said insistently. "This can kill."

"The flu won't kill me."

"You have no way of knowing."

Beck frowned a little, unsettled by this sudden interest in his well-being. "Why are you so worried?" he asked quietly, hoping it didn't come off as too rude. He didn't mind the care. He wished Helle would care so much about him on the regular.

They didn't respond for a while. Beck was starting to think they never would, given they had already ignored the question once.

"I was going to die from it," they whispered, and Beck got the sense they might be holding back tears. It was a surreal image.

They didn't say anything else, but Beck could hear how their breathing changed. Helle frequently stopped breathing altogether, under normal circumstances, sometimes specifically to freak him out — now it felt like they couldn't stop drawing shuddering breaths one after the other, only stopping for brief moments as they... choked back sobs?

"Helle..?"

"They told me I was going to die," they went on. "We had no money to spare for medicine or- or doctors. Except one, of course. The mysterious faith healer Lady Marie Brandt, who offered her services to those in need; free of charge."

It wasn't too difficult to piece together what had happened. It was... frankly, terrifying. He was sure his own mother would've let in anybody who promised to heal him, had he been in such a dire situation. And to have that doctor turn out to be a vampire– he couldn't even imagine.

"Go to sleep, Beck."

He was knocked out cold by a sudden wave of magic, plunging him into a dreamless sleep for hours.

He woke up the next day feeling a lot better, and he let out a contented hum as he stretched out. As hellish as the previous day had been, he felt a little comforted by the idea that Helle cared. Maybe it would be worth it, in the end, if only for this piece of knowledge.

As he was making his morning cup of tea in the kitchen, parts of his dreams began popping into his head. Most of it was utter nonsense, and then... there was a conversation with Helle. Something about being sick.

He sat down at the table, warming his hands on the side of the cup and trying to focus on the dream. Of course, the more he chased it, the more blurry and incoherent it got, as was often the case with dreams. Still, he wished he could've remembered... Fever dreams were always a lot of fun to type into online dream interpreter sites.

Oh well. Maybe it would come to him later.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight

[slocumjoe]

companions and their comfort foods

Cait; didnt care about food until Sole dragged her out of the Combat Zone. Sturges makes a tarberry cobbler that is to die for. It's lightly crisp, it's sweet, it's juicy; it's incredible. Once they get a reliable source of milk, and then cream, that cobbler is an orgasm in a skillet. It ends up being rather good for her mental health, too, as she starts going berry picking for it and makes friends with the farmers. It's also just a naturally soothing activity. It's hard to think about all your trauma when you're waist-deep in water, plucking berries off a bush.

Curie; Does tea count as food? A delicate Carrot Flower tea keeps her going wherever she is. She takes it with sap or, if lucky enough to forage or buy it, Stingwing honey. The tea itself has a slightly tart finish, almost citrusy. Curie takes it hot or iced, depending on the weather. It was one of the first things she tried after getting her synth body. For a meal, she really enjoys Preston's campfire cooking. Wants to find a working grill for him, Nick, and Danse to bond over. The act of cooking is a time-honored group activity, and goodness knows Preston and Danse neglect their emotional connections.

Danse; The standard Brotherhood rations wouldn't quite apply as 'comfort food', especially not after exile. Danse is utilitarian. he doesn't have a personal relationship with any specific food. But...Nick, despite not being able to drink it himself, makes the best coffee. Even with garbage grounds. A hot, strong cup of coffee in the morning is sometimes the only thing convincing Danse that it's worth waking up. Danse is usually the one cooking; he's gotten good at it over the years. Accidentally betters his relationship with everyone just because he makes decent food. Even Hancock is on his best behavior come breakfast.

Deacon; Cornbread and honey. Cornbread is one of the more common foods, at least in places where they can grind cornmeal. It's messy, it's drier than a desert, and it's pretty bland, but it's just...nice. There was a bar back in University Point that made it, and sitting by the ocean, watching the waves, and munching on some hot, buttery, honeyed cornbread is just such a simple pleasure, how could anyone not savor it? Preston makes the best cornbread now. Has intrusive thoughts of the sexual variety over it. No, Deacon, you don't have to do that to get cornbread. Preston isn't into that anyway, it wouldn't even work. Those pre-war 'films' lied to you, buddy.

Gage; He's a basic bitch. It's steak. Steak and mashed potatoes and a salty gravy. But he's picky. If you want a good steak, you'll want a fresh cut from a Brahmin. But good fucking luck finding Brahman steak. You can't kill the damn things just for the meat, because the milk you get is more valuable. One happy Brahmin can get you a lot of milk, which means a lot of cheese, butter, yogurt. It's a long wait until a cow gets old enough to butcher. Then, the owner might keep the meat to themselves. Gage is a raider, yeah, but he's busy. He can't keep tabs on every cow in the area to see what farm to raid for a fucking steak.

Hancock; Break. Fast. Sand. Wich. Mirelurk egg, grilled cram, cheese, tato...goddamn. God. Damn. One time he put mac and cheese on it instead of Brahmin cheese and it almost turned him religious. Hancock doesn't do sweet breakfast, thinks it's not 'mayoral-y'. He takes his sandwiches to, like, a rooftop, to just eat in silence and savor it. Gets really aggravated if interrupted. Also, guess who makes the best breakfast sandwiches? Danse. Fucking Danse. Life's just not fair, man. Also wants to get the guy a grill; maybe it would, like...help him chill. Give him a different personality.

MacCready; Sugar bombs! Sugar bombs! Sugar bombs! It's basically dog kibble for a twenty-year-old. He'll eat them dry, but he'll pay top cap for some milk. For some concerning reason, despite being 210+ years old, they're never stale. He doesn't care. A bowl of cereal and a comic book, or if Sole lends it, a Pipboy and video game, is an awesome way to start the day. It's a little Saturday ritual he tries to have with Duncan. Afterward, they go dig holes looking for X6's treasure. Gets excited whenever he sees X6 with mud on his boots; knows there's a patch of fresh, disturbed dirt out there somewhere.

Nick; Before, OG Nick loved himself a good lasagna. Currently, Nick gets his fix by helping Preston and Danse cook. Makes coffee the way Danse likes it, with a lot of sugar/honey. The others complain it's too strong and sweet, but the next best thing for Danse's mood would be to sneak chems in it. Obviously, Nick isn't going to do that. And he can't sneak it in Danse's own cup after brewing, because he'll notice, and criticize the waste of resources. A happy Danse is a tolerable Danse. Making Danse happy risks making Danse persnickety because Danse thinks joy and pleasure are selfish. Nick would pull his hair out if he had any.

Preston; Grew up in a Creole family that would sooner nuke the world a second time than give up their family recipes. The current Minutemen make a lot of dishes they've learned from Preston. He's pretty smug about it. His dad's cooking is near and dear to his heart, but his comfort food would be fruit salad. Mutfruit, melon, tarberry, and some canned fruit Sturges nabbed at a store before the raiders cornered them in Concord. It was the first meal he'd had in a while, and it meant they were finally safe. Now it triggers that relief whenever he has it. Makes it when he's anxious. If you notice cans piling up in Preston's trash, please check on him.

Piper; Would have said Takahashi's noodles, but after some time away from them, eating a wider variety of food, she likes them less. They're still good, but they used to be "I am a tired 20 year old who can't cook" good. Now they're just "I remember eating this a lot" good. Her actual comfort food would be s'mores. Piper's mom died when Nat was really little. Afterward, her dad paid for marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers whenever he could, and they'd sit around a campfire and enjoy while her dad told stories. Piper hasn't continued the tradition; it hurts too much, and Nat doesn't remember their parents anyway.

X6-88; didn't understand the concept of comfort food until traveling with these idiots. Still thought himself above it. But then...Piper handed him an innocuous, tiny package. "Gumdrops," she called them. Sour, faintly sweet. Coursers were fed a flavorless nutrient block. She noticed his interest. Snuck him similar things. "If you put this in cola, it explodes!" He tested it. It very much exploded, but the hard candy was still good. Then Deacon got in on the contraband, gave him a box of Dandy-Boy apples. Pre-war snack food was prohibited for its concerning nutritional value. The illegality made it all the more alluring. One thing lead to another, and now X6 has locked safes filled with candy, buried in the woods behind Sanctuary. The local children seek his treasure.

[didyoutrydynamite]

That Cassandra sure is sweet. What does his teammates think of the woman who is getting close to their leader?

Reese: *Mouth full of casserole* Oh she's awesome! She gives us a TON of free food!

May: *Chuckles* She does seem very grateful for our leader's help.

Neon: *Grumpy face* I see through her schemes, that woman is trying honey trap our Blondie!

May: Honey trapping him into what exactly? A date?

Neon: *slams hand on the table* Into putting a baby in her!

Reese: Doesn't she already have a kid? She seems pretty busy already, always asking for our help and stuff?

Neon: She doesn't just want a kid! She wants to trap Jaune into a relationship by having his child! Jaune would never bounce on a kid! And when he's married to that woman and has two kids to raise he'll need to get a real job! That means no more leader, and no more JNRZ!

Reese: *GAAASSSPPP* That BITCH!

May: *Amused* Would you like some peanut butter on that "jelly" sandwich you're serving?

[moonpetrichors-blog]

RFA + Saeran On Halloween

Tags: Headcanons, Halloween, Halloween Costumes

Warnings: None

Characters: Zen, Yoosung, Jumin, Seven, Saeran, Jaehee

What the RFA + Saeran would wear on Halloween.

* ˚ ✦ Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [02/12/22] ❞

Zen

Remember when Zen had a phase where he kept calling himself a Greek god?

He even edited his face over the statue of one.

Not to mention, he poses as Aphrodite on the April Fool's cover (mans better watch out for her 😭).

So, it comes to no one's surprise that Zen would dress up as an ancient God.

Of course he loves to show himself off, so he'll wear a sort of silky, white cloth draped around his body, paired with gold sandals.

He'll tie back his hair with a golden hairpiece.

Leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. His abs are on full display and he takes a bunch of photos lol

For some reason I can see Zen using body glitter?? If he was rocking up to a Halloween party, then all those lights are gonna be competing with Zen since he's the most shimmery one there.

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Yoosung

Chat Noir.

I'M SORRY HE LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE ADRIEN AGRESTE

I took over a year off and cut you bitches some slack 🤯

TELL A FRIEND TO TELL A FRIEND, SHES BAAAAACK 😍🤞

No but fr Yoosung would dress up in a cat costume for Halloween

Maybe not necessarily Chat Noir, but he would have the fake ears and all

His outfit would consist of one that is dark (Yoosung emo era)

Omg but can you imagine if he put on makeup for his costume

Yoosung with smudged eyeliner?? SIGN ME UP

I think it'd be so funny if Yoosung and Saeran were friends and (timelines aside), he'd point to him and be like "hey I look like you lol"

Ugh imagine bromance between them two. Like Yoosung can't do his own eyeliner for the life of him so Saeran does it for him instead 😭

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Jumin

See, I don't think Jumin would dress up for/celebrate Halloween at all, but for the sake of these headcanons he will because I said so

He's dressed as a vampire.

But, not just any vampire!

He's a vampire dressed as a brooding dark lord in the Victorian era, living alone with his cat in some high, high castle. (I'm a sucker for some Victorian vampires)

In this high castle of his (*cough* penthouse), he swishes his red wine domineeringly

I think Zen would tease him for his costume because if you thought Yoosung looked emo, Jumin takes the cake. And he's wearing eyeliner!

Does an evil spin on his wheely chair while petting Elizabeth whenever anyone disturbs him

He looks ✨expensive✨

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Seven

There were many ideas I had for Seven's costume.

An astronaut, honey butter chip packet, nun.

I think he'd make a cool zombie though

No I didn't decide this because of the zombie song (maybe)

He 100% goes trick or treating, except he just goes around scaring little kids,

While also stealing their candy in the process.

Like, he just sneaks up behind them right after they've left a house, and roars a Frankenstein-esque roar.

Forget the clowns of 2016, Seven is the one getting written about in news stations

Immediately gets a stomach ache after he eats the hundreds of candy he collected (stole, rather)

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Saeran

Okay, listen.

I know this might be a little bit biased,

BUT WHO CAN SAY NO TO A PHANTOM OF THE OPERA SAERAN?

Like oh my god he is literally so gorgeous in this costume

His hair is gelled up and styled to one side, and he's wearing a sleek black suit

He's also wearing the iconic white mask

His pants have chains on them because just yes

Saeran wearing suits isn't an uncommon theme, and while Suit Saeran isn't exactly one of the best versions of himself, I think it'd still be cool if he incorporated chains in his POTO costume.

Okay maybe I'm really biased

Side headcanon, Saeran is an avid musical fan.

… … … … … . . ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ,,  ⌲˘͈ᵕ˘͈

Jaehee

Like Jumin, I can't see Jaehee dressing up for Halloween

Poor girl is always working she doesn't really get time to celebrate fun holidays like these

On the off-chance she can, she would be a witch

Basic dark colours with some purple accents to her outfit

You know the type of gloves and stockings that Misa Amane wears?

Yeah. Imagine Jaehee wearing lacey and gothic-style clothes incorporated into a witch costume.

I'm really just making everyone dress alternative in some form lmao

If homegirl had a broomstick she'd probably imagine smacking it over Jumin's head. Repeatedly

[theknightmarket]

I did a tier list of the Markiplier Egos, so I thought I’d share it here – and, yes, perhaps some of these ratings indicate who I like to write, sue me. So, bottom to top, here it is:

Actor: Super Hell

         I goddamn hate Actor, as you could probably figure out. He’s a prissy bitch, who deserved everything that came to him. Okay, that might’ve been a bit of an exaggeration, but Jesus Christ do I hate him, mainly for causing Damien’s death, plus everything else, but mainly that. He deserves less than Super Hell, but that is the bottom of the barrel.

E-Boy Mark: F

         Reminded me too much of my boy Bing, and I did Not like it. Plus, I have the same tiger pattern on one of my jackets, and I did not want to be associated with this E-Boy. So, F tier.

Ed Edgar: F

         I hate babies. Simple as that. Props for being a cowboy aesthetic, but that mustache knocked him back down into F tier.

Derek Derekson: F

         Need I say anything? He’s abusive and a bitch, and I care too much about my baby Eric to put him any higher. I would put him lower, but Super Hell is reserved for Actor. F.

Silver Shephard: E

         I haven’t seen anything about him, except for the skit with all the other egos, in which I also did not see much. Cool costume, but no clue. E.

Dr. Iplier: E

         Again, not much. To be honest, both of the Egos in the E tier are ones I haven’t seen much of but know about. Hence, the doctor is here. Nice catchphrase, E tier.

Yandereiplier: D

         The animation is cool, I’ve always liked horror-blood elements, and the pictures of Yandere have the red hair, which I am a fan of. However, the game itself is a point down, and he is only for the sim, so D tier.

King of the Squirrels: D

         A classic start to the Ego train, so points given, but points taken away because I am not a huge fan of peanut butter. Squirrels I love, though, so again. Hence, D tier.

Bill: C

         Okay, so I haven’t seen the video he comes from actually, but I did see one clip of him saying ‘Oh, honey, no’ and, boy, did I feel flustered, and I don’t even know why! It was just weirdly sweet and reflects the kinda stuff you see in my S tiered Egos. But, alas, he’s not all that common in videos, so C.

Bim Trimmer: C

         I don’t know either, man, he’s just a funny guy. The image I have for him is so stupid, and he’s Bim Trimmer??? C’mon. C tier.

The Colonel: C

         Being separate from Wilford, he’s kinda lacking in substance compared to him, but I get it. Cuckolded a dude, which isn’t a great start, but it’s Actor, so I don’t care. Says ‘bully’, which is fun, but he does kill the viewer, so points off for him, putting him in C.

Google(s): C

         Might be influenced by my having a fic in the works for him, but I am also a sucker for AI, android stuff. Plus, the fanart I see for him is always cute. Him being rude to Bing takes him down a notch, though, so C.

Heehoo: C

         The concept of this guy is so funny to me – like, Jesus Christ, the Markiplier runs into the wild, completely naked, save for maybe shoes, of all things, and is fine??? The long hair pushes it over D, but the lack of a voice keeps him in C.

The Nightguard: C

         It’s mainly for the musical itself, and that one moment when he leans in and says ‘I killed a guy’ because obviously. Not to mention it’s Mark singing. However, this one can be excluded from being an ego because it is basing off of a pre-established character. So, C tier.

Captain Magnum: C

         I haven’t gone through his ending yet in AHWM (sue me, I got Yancy first), but I do love pirates ;) but I don’t love beards. Personal preference, it just takes away from the face. Basically, the aesthetic alone brings it into C tier.

Annus: B

         Now, I did watch, uh, [redacted] – catch my favorite video being the A.I generated basically fanfictions – and I loved the whole concept of it! The ending, especially during covid, kinda helped me get used to death and the idea of having to die in the end. However, some of this does not extend to the ego of Annus. I feel like there was a lot more they could have done with both Annus and Unus, but I understand that most of the audience would not have wanted it to be fully cryptid and ARG-esque, so B is both the lowest and highest I can go with him. I do love suits, though. 

Eric Derekson: B

         I have seen next to nothing about this boy! And I love him :D! He’s just so cute in everything I’ve seen and read. Solid B tier for the cute side, anyway. 

The Jims: B

         Honestly, it’s a goof ego, and I like that. The stupid movements and the little side bit about WKM made me happy after the sad events, and I saw them in Space, so I’m happy to put them at B, as a collective, of course.

Monster Gulch Mark: B

         I’m a sucker for apocalypses, man. The casual murder plot caught my eye, and then the second song was a banger, too. I was super disappointed when nothing ever came out from Monster Gulch again, and I appreciate the running water thing, if you know what I mean by that. So, for both Mark in this and the musical in general, B tier.

God of Night: B

         Dope aesthetic and I am a sucker for deity-stuff. However, I do not have the attention span to watch a 3+ hour video where he is not in all of it, and was, maybe, recorded without a hard script? I don’t know, but I know I should watch it considering I have a fic queued for him. Cool concept, but I can’t watch so much of that in one go. B tier.

Noir: A

         You remember that I said I love suits, right? Well, this guy, in a disheveled suit, the noir aesthetic – one that I loved since I saw Into the Spider-Verse – and the voice over??? A tier, and I will take no comments. Also, there’s something to be said about how the lower tiers tend to have the cocky-know-it-all egos, and the higher tiers are soft guys. This, the A tier, is a weird exception.

Murdock: A

         No. 1, the murder – no. 2, the vibe – no. 3, the outfit! The moment I saw Murdock, I had to put the screen down and go for a walk. You’ve seen this man, you understand what I mean. A tier, for everything he’s involved in.

Dark: A

         This is probably lower than a lot of people would put him, and I’m still debating putting him higher, but A tier is the least I will go. Again, there’s the suit, plus, I’m a fan of the glitchy, multi-emotion thing he has going on. However, as many of you will remember, he did shove the viewer into a mirror and steal their body. Not great on his part, but he is against Actor, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Hence, A tier, plus he does stage himself sexily on that desk, so…

Engineer: A

         This guy is plain cute. He’s devoted, he’s hard-working, he appreciates the aesthetics! He really should be in A+ tier, considering I have a sticker of him, too, except for one tiny snag. Actor. He is the source of all my trouble and complicates things in the theory sense. Is Engineer actually Actor? We don’t know, and I don’t like to think I would put anyone related to Actor in A+. So, sorry, my dear boy, he has to be in A tier.

Bing: A+

         If you’ve seen my other posts, you may already understand why he’s here, but I will reiterate for every who doesn’t know. I don’t know what it is, but the dumb, skateboarder-bro, with a heart of gold is a thing I love. The glasses are cool, the orange I adore, and an android? C’mon, I can’t put him anywhere but A+. (I also have a sticker of him on the laptop I am currently writing this on)

Host: A+

         I had to go searching for Host after the sketch with all of the egos in it, and, boy, was I overjoyed to find him. The blind-fold and narrator bit, and a couple of fics I’ve read influenced this decision. A+ tier, but it’s a controversial one. (Another that I have a sticker of)

Wilford: A+

         Yeah, this is just where he belongs. S tier is reserved for two egos here, and so Wilford is a banger in A+ tier. The whole fruity-bisexual-timelord thing is amazing, and, as far as character design goes, oof, the fluffy hair, slightly unbuttoned shirt? I am swooning. A+ tier. (Also, a sticker)

Illinois: A+

         This guy has two belts. What a dude. And the flirty thing I appreciate, the whip cracks, as well. Him walking backwards through a bunch of traps is pique douche, but in an oh-my-god-he’s-going-to-get-himself-killed-better-help-him kind of way. Like pulling a drowning dog out of a pool and them shaking off. A+.

Can you guys guess who’s at the top of this list? If you can’t, lemme tell you. 

Damien: S

         Damien is my comfort character, and that sucks because – spoilers – he is dead. I forgive him for shoving the viewer into a mirror, solely for his adorable personality and all of the fics people have for him prior to poker night. The ‘little monster’ nickname has me squealing every time I hear it, and I could fully write an essay on his character. Fuck Actor for killing him, and fuck anyone who doesn’t think he’s amazing. Solid S tier, no questions. 

Yancy: S

         Objectively the best character. He was my first ending in AHWM, I love his song, he applied for parole??? Look at that man, listen to him talk – the accent omg – and tell me, genuinely, that you would not do anything for him. Look me in the eyes and tell me that he isn’t the light of your life. ‘Free as a buird’ – gods, he’s adorable, and a sticker that I have on the inside of my laptop, to boot!

And that’s it! Feel free to reblog or send me an ask telling me your opinion, but know that I will fight you if you disagree on my S tiers :D

Have a good day everyone!

[chaotic-on-main]

Sky, what's your top five favorite breads?🍞🥐🥖

TOP 5 FAVORITE BREADS HUH?

1. First off we got the simple french bread. It's so so crusty and toasts so well 🤌🏻 slather that bitch up with garlic butter and call it a day

2. Next we got the good ole fashion sandwich bread. But not just any, like that soft bread that you would make pbjs or turkey sandwiches with where you'd smush some potato chips in and then after you bite into it, the bread gets stuck to the roof of your mouth. Slaps every time, 10/10

3. Coming in number 3 we have croissants. They are so flaky and so buttery if you make them right. Bonus points if it has honey butter on it (looking at you Cheddar's Scratch Kitchen)

4. No one at me, southern biscuits are bread. Now I will only eat homemade ones, a specific recipe that I go to every time. It's made with frozen butter so that when they cook, the butter melts and it makes it SO AIRY AND SO DELIGHTFUL. I put extra butter because fuck why not

5. Baguettes

ASK ME THE MOST RANDOM QUESTIONS YOU CAN THINK OF. I'm feeling hyper and chaotic, come indulge me. I promise you won't be disappointed. 👋🏻

[biblicalhorror]

I found a page on Instagram that describes itself as "nutrient dense meals" but literally everything is just meat and dairy I'm losing my mind

And I've been laughing at this one in particular for like 20 minutes:

Just fucking. Bite into a slice of butter. Put some honey on that bitch and boom. Picture of health

I'm literally obsessed with the Antivegan Messiah. Giving yourself heart disease one beef jerky chocolate at a time. Oh, also, they had a "veggie fritter recipe" that was just grated carrots and something called "beef flour" beat together with an egg and deep fried. No notes.

[terrania]

bitches will spend upwards of half an hour daily constructing something called the ultimate treat and its literally just macking cheese. they spend eight minutes boiling the noodles and when theyre draining and they're putting in the milk and the butter for the cheese sauce they'll think "well surely i deserve an extra tablespoon of butter. i'm worth it." and that's where the trouble starts. because after that whats stopping bitches from putting in just an extra bit of salt, some olive oil and maybe some garlic and onion powder and fuck it while were here let's get some honey and red pepper flakes, that shit makes everything ever taste like ten times better. and at this point the boxed cheese powder being added in is like <50% of the concoction being produced but fuck it it smells nice and it's worth it to eat well. and when bitches finish stirring in the cooked noodles and take a bite they beam uncontrollably but as they keep chewing their smile drops and tears well up in their eyes because it tastes like home, not in terms of nostalgia but a home that they should've found but never did, that they never had and that for all they know they never will, the flavor profile effortlessly comforting and beautiful in a way they can't be. and they also stir in a couple uncooked noodles to hit them off guard when theyre chomping down at this exact moment

[niiicedave]

The Pharcyde - 4 Better Or 4 Worse (1992) (DJ Nu-Mark RMX) (2008) 

Uh, do you take, Rhymealinda Do you love me Tre, do you really love me? To be your lawfully, wedded, wife?

Uh, uh, I do, I do, no I don't, I do

Ah roomie zoom zim, I'm all to be wed To Rhymealinda I remember um, when we first met In eighty-two back in school used to play up all the fools Sometimes you'd be my number fives sometimes you'd be my twenty-two But um, screw the dumb shit, 'cause little Rhyme's true I can't wait to say I do and oh yeah honey there's no due I got my chariot, rolling, now I'm mic controlling Got some spunk in my funk, I can't wait to put some soul in We're rolling all strikes, we're having little tykes One is little Mike the others Ike I'm sure that you would like To hold em, or maybe stroll em on their little bikes When they're born, I've sworn, to bring 'em up right You know, dope is how I breed em, beats is what I'll feed 'em They'll be healthy like a health nut I'm sure you shake your butt (Kick the verse preacher) and I won't disperse Here's my life Rhymealinda for better or for worse

Well it's done she tagged me, duck duck goose I'm batter up I can't sleep the fly brotha must produce The power pack and I'm stacked like a forty-five Mag Straight up tennis shoes in my pants there's a sag Dropping so much grammar gotta slam it down my mouth Shup? I met a slut she, put me in the rut G With the dip that was down with me from the whole front Now front me never too cool how-ever I gotta get the bread, gotta get the butter Fix it up eat down throw it in the gutter (Gutter dreamed it) sour, (creamed it) gotta Skinny-dipped into her ass as if it was a pool of water Now the water's getting hotter so I bought her a new ring Maybe a love ballad is the song I sing I gotta kiss her ass my tongue I hold before I curse If you really want me bitch, take me for better or for worse

Well this is the final chapter (hello?) Of me, we're going to rack up (who is this?) In tune, in tune, in tune, a button (why are you calling my house?) A button, a button! Oh come on, honey (who is this? What?) Would you come along with me down (Mike is that you?) The lane and I will pick your brain (oh my God, who is this?) I won't be good like you think I will (I'll fucking call the cops) I'll take a hammer and start to drill (don't call my house) Your skull, and then I'll really start (oh my God, what is this) Picking, your brains cells, I will be (what? I'm gonna call the cops) Licking, mm mm mm mm! okay? (quit fucking around) You taste so intelligent, ah (hello, who is this?) Yes yes yes, you trusted me, now (help, who is this? What) I busted thee, top of your skull (are you doing? Why are you) You thought the day was going to be dull (calling me?) I'll make it very exciting I took your fingers then I started (who are you? Why are you) Biting, and then I scraped the meat (calling my house?) Off, the bone, of your leg (stop calling here!) Ah, you tried to make me beg (don't call here anymore) But I had to insist, I had to insist I, run up your pussy with my fist Okay, I think we've gone a little bit (I'm gonna call the cops!) Overboard, don't stop it yet (fuck you don't call my house!)

Like this ("like what like what like what")

Yo, I'm Audi Gee No doubts manufactured No ah copies, we can't ah, do the copies No copies, okay Oh, so you expect me to do some type of freak show? That's what it really is huh? Is that what you want? What you talking about? What you talking bout nigga? What you know bout the problems of L.A.? I'ma tell you what's wrong with the problems Of the people in the L.A. See the brothers needs some type of education And you know, some type of foundation, in the, uh Community, cause the mute-co, duh, the community Grows like seeds, and the seeds will not fall from The tree if you don't water the grass So nigga get off your rusty black ass Like this, like this You can get with this, or you can get with that I think you get with this because Fat Lip's fat Fat Uh, okay um, okay uh, keep going keep going keep going Keep going, hey Romye Romye, come here come here come here come here come here Come here come here (ok ok hey yo yo yo yo) come here for a second Hey Rhasaan, Rhasaan, Imani, Imani I think you should Oh, duh!

Songwriters: Derrick Lemel Stewart / Derrick Stewart / Emandu Imani Rashaan Wilcox / Emandu Wilcox / John Martinez / Lou Donaldson / Trevant Jermaine Hardson

4 Better or 4 Worse (interlude) lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

[stardewgay]

okay here it is, as promised. warning for TLOU spoilers (kinda?) and death. it's not great but...yeah :)

“Dad?” Jas’ voice pierced through a hazy, deep sleep. As I drifted into consciousness I could feel all of the pain I was in from work. Jesus, I’m gettin' old. “Dad, it’s time to wake up.”

I grumbled a bit before sitting up, rubbing my lower back as I did. “Hey princess. What’s up?” 

She broke out into a huge smile and I noticed she held something behind her back. “Happy birthday!” she extended a box at me, bouncing with excitement. I couldn’t contain my own smile as I took it from her, ruffling her sleep-messy hair. I removed the lid from the small box to find my own once-broken watch. “Miss Penny helped me get it fixed. Mr. Gunther at the museum repairs watches really good.” she beamed. 

I took it out of the box gently, and held it to my ear. “Hm…did you? I don’t hear anything…” 

“What?” she exclaimed, eyes full of panic. She grabbed it from me and listened to it tick. She frowned at me and handed it back. “Not funny!” 

I let out a deep belly laugh as I put it on my right wrist. “Thank you, honey. I love it.” I planted a kiss on her forehead and swung my feet off of the bed, stretching. “Go get ready for school kiddo.” With that, she bounded back to her room. I got dressed in my work clothes and headed to the kitchen.

I’d just started making some eggs and toast when Sam barged in. “Will you leave us be and stop bein’ such a leech?” I teased as he stole a piece of toast from the toaster and threw the fridge open. He ignored the dig and pulled  the butter out. He snagged a knife out of the utensils drawer and buttered his toast. “You ready for today?” he asked around a huge bite.

“Absolutely not,” I scoffed. “Morris has been in rare form lately. This shipment is going to be a bitch.” He nodded in agreement and finished the piece of toast off. 

“Hi Sam,” Jas said, stomping down the stairs. She was dressed and her hair was brushed and pulled back into her low pigtails. A pang of nostalgia tugged at my heart, remembering when I had to learn to do that for her. “What’s for breakfast?” 

“Eggs and toast. We’re runnin’ late.” I dumped the scrambled eggs onto a plate for her and laid two pieces of buttered toast next to them. She took her plate to the kitchen table and started eating quickly. I split my eggs with Sam and once we'd finished we all set our respective plates in the sink. Jas slung her little pink backpack over her shoulder as we walked out the door.

She slid into the backseat of the truck with a little difficulty due to her short stature. I started the car as Sam hopped in the backseat and started fiddling with my radio. We dropped Jas off with Penny at the museum, giving a quick wave before heading out to JojaMart.

***

The day was long and grueling, as suspected. I dropped Sam at home and was back at the ranch just a few minutes later. Jas was on the couch, looking impatient. “It’s late.” she leveled, raising one eyebrow. 

“Sorry mom.” I roll my eyes and plop down next to her, draping my arm over the back of the couch. 

“I took care of all the animals so don’t worry about that.” I nodded appreciatively, leaning my head against the wall. “And…I’ve got one more surprise,” Jas said, wiggling her eyebrows. She reached behind a throw pillow and pulled out a DVD copy of It Howls in the Rain. 

“Oh hell yeah,” I took it and hopped up to pop it in the DVD player. I sat back down next to her and hit play. “Don’t fall asleep kiddo.” 

“How could I? It’s too riveting.”

Not even an hour later, Jas snored softly in my lap. My eyes were threatening to close as well. I paused the movie and scooped Jas up. I carried her up the stairs, my back screaming at me with each step. I laid her in bed, tucking her in gently and kissing her head before heading to bed myself. I fell asleep damn near as soon as my head hit the pillow.

***

Boom.

I was startled from my sleep by the sound of a transformer exploding outside. I jumped out of bed to look out the window just as a helicopter passed overhead. It was close enough for the hum of the propellers to hurt my ears. 

“Dad?” Jas called, her small voice panicked and shaky. 

“It’s okay baby, stay in your room! Let me see what’s going on.” I bounded down the stairs at the same time that Sam burst into the house, using his emergency spare key.

“Shane, we have to go.” I could only gape at the huge gun slung over his back. 

“Sam what the fuck is going on? Where did you get that gun?” I had my own, of course, but just a small handgun for protection. This was a military grade assault rifle.

“Doesn’t fucking matter, get Jas. We’re leaving.” he started rummaging around for my keys before spotting them on the key hook. The fear in his voice was more than enough for me to kick my ass into gear and run up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

“Jas? We’re leaving c’mon.” I hollered as I approached her door. She swung it open and stared at me, her eyes full of fear and confusion. She looked particularly young and helpless, oversized sleep shirt reaching the knees of her purple unicorn pajama pants. “It’s okay baby but we’ve gotta go. I have to grab something, go meet Sam downstairs.” She nodded and beelined for the stairs. I grabbed my gun out of the lockbox in my bedroom closet with shaking hands before running down the stairs. I flung open the front door. Sam and Jas were in the truck already, and I hopped in the passenger seat. 

“Sam, tell me what’s going on.” I asked in my steadiest voice. It wasn’t a question anymore, it was a demand. He sighed and turned the radio on, tuning it to a news station.

A sudden outbreak of a mystery illness has caused violence in Pelican Town tonight. People have been reported lashing out at their neighbors, killing them and feasting on their remains. Officials are strongly recommending evacuation. If you cannot evacuate, please stay inside your home and don’t leave until given an all clear…

My mouth was agape, and Jas took a shuddering breath in the backseat. I reached back and squeezed her shaking hand. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get out of here. We’re okay.” I wasn’t just trying to comfort Jas, I was trying to convince myself. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere but here. Calico Desert? There’s not many people there, they can’t be sick there too...” He pondered, and steered the truck in that direction. 

“What if they are? What if it’s everywhere?” Jas said, voice small and wavering. A heavy silence fell over the truck. She could be right. We could make it to the desert to find even more sick people. We could go anywhere and find more sick people. I rubbed my face, trying desperately to think of what to say to her. 

“I…I don’t know kiddo. But I know we’ll get through this.” I looked back at her and gave her my most convincing smile. It didn’t seem to work, because she still looked horrified. I squeezed her hand again and she gave me two squeezes back. Her way of silently saying I trust you dad. It tugged on my heartstrings in an uncomfortable way. It was a ritual we often shared while crossing the street. She had always trusted me to keep her safe, and I couldn’t betray that trust now.

We finally made it to the main road, haphazardly passing the bus that people clambered into desperately. I thanked whatever god there was that I’d invested in a truck just a few years ago. “I hope Miss Penny is okay…” Jas whispered, almost to herself.

“Me too baby. I’m sure she’s going to be just fine.” I offered up, with the best smile I could muster. Just then, screaming broke out behind us and I stole a glance at the rear view mirror. The bus had started moving, leaving a group of people at the stop, banging on the side of it as it sped off. My heart sank when I saw a head of bright orange hair. Please don't let that be Penny. 

I noticed someone emerge from the woods. He was stumbling like he’d drunk far too much at the Saloon, and he was covered in blood. His head snapped upright and he took off at a superhuman speed, right at the bus. He didn’t stop until he crashed into the windshield, somehow shattering it. The bus swerved as the driver attempted desperately to keep it on the road. But they were catching up with us, fast. Too fast.

“Sam. Drive faster. Now!” The panic in my voice rose, prompting Jas to turn around. “Don’t look Jas, look at me. Everything's okay. We’re oka—“ the bus flipped. I watched in horror as it burst into flames, rolling closer to us. In a split second, a piece of the bus broke away and flew towards us at top speed. “Hold on!” I roared as it made contact with us, fast enough to break through the back window. The piece of debris narrowly missed my head and barreled through the windshield. Startled, Sam jerked the wheel and we crashed right into a tree. My heart stopped for a beat, and we all sat there in a stunned silence. “Jas,” I turned around and saw blood covering the floor of the backseat. Panic took over me, holding me in a vice grip of pure fear. A large piece of glass from the windshield protruded from her shin. It was spurting blood and she was starting to look pale. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I ripped off a piece of my shirt and steadied her on the center console. “I’m sorry baby, I have to take this out.” She gulped and nodded, leaning her head back, squeezing her eyes shut. She let out a strangled squeak as I pulled the shrapnel out of her skin, replacing it with the strip of my shirt. She hissed through her teeth as I tied it as tight as I could. 

“We’ve gotta go.” Sam was bleeding from a small cut on his forehead. He jumped out of the truck and I followed suit. I opened the back door and helped Jas out. She winced when her feet touched the ground and nearly collapsed. “Can you walk?” I asked, and she shook her head looking ashamed. “It’s okay,” I scooped her up bridal style and she tucked her head into my neck. I could feel her crying quietly. 

“This way, c’mon.” Sam led us into the forest, and I prayed that we’d make it across the field and to some semblance of safety. “Let me scope things out. I’m gonna run ahead.” Sam said. I nodded and he took off, disappearing into some trees. I kept heading in the same direction. Behind me, a twig snapped. I whirled around, and made eye contact with…something. I can’t even describe it. He was stumbling just like the guy who jumped at the bus. His face was dripping with dark red blood, mouth slack and hanging open. I was so shocked that I held his gaze for just a bit too long, and he began barreling towards us. I hightailed it as fast as I could, trying to block out the snarling and pounding of feet behind us. He was fast, and I could feel him catching up. I emerged from the trees into a large open field. He was right on my heels. I begged, hoped, prayed that some divine intervention would keep him from grabbing us because we were goners if he did. 

I got just what I asked for. A shot rang out from across the field and he dropped with a heavy thud. I whipped my head around to see this man, this thing, twitching and grunting on the ground, dying. Jas cried harder, digging her head deeper into my neck. I turned back around and found myself staring down the barrel of a gun, a flashlight attached shining in my eyes. A soldier dressed in riot gear was staring at me warily.

“We’re not sick. Please, we just want to get out.” I pleaded, holding Jas closer to me. “Don’t move!” he bellowed. Jas was shaking and holding onto me as tight as she could. “We’re not sick.” I repeated, in a stronger tone this time. 

“I’ve got two civilians, one injured.” He spoke into a walkie attached to his vest. I couldn’t hear the response but he responded, “Leg.” I could only imagine they asked where the injury was. “Sir?” his voice turned quizzical and I shifted. I was shaking myself and hoped that Jas couldn’t tell. “There’s a little girl, she’s…” he responded. What are they saying? My thoughts were racing. “We’re not sick!” I shouted, taking a step forward. He pointed the gun in my face and I took a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. We can’t be too safe.” He leveled before opening fire. 

I turned away as fast as I could to shield us, but my knees gave out as a bullet grazed my side. We tumbled down, rolling in the grass. The soldier approached slowly, and took aim at me once again. I held my arm up to shield my eyes from the blinding flashlight and said my prayers. I was praying a hell of a lot tonight for an atheist. His finger had just started to squeeze the trigger when I heard another shot ring out. The soldier dropped down next to me. Sam ran up, grabbing my hand to help me sit upright. I touched my side and felt hot blood gushing from the bullet wound. “Fuck…” I hissed in pain.

“Shane…” Sam sounded concerned, horrified. I looked up at him to see his eyes locked on something behind me. I turned around and saw Jas, blood pooling around her small body. 

“No, no, no, fuck,” I crawled towards her as fast as I could, sharp rocks hidden in the grass digging into my palms. I could barely feel them. “Jas? Jas baby it’s okay, you’re okay.” She was sobbing, letting out sharp squeaks of pain and gasping for air. I lifted her shirt just enough to see the gaping wound that pierced her stomach. I hurriedly pressed my hands down on it, and she emitted a scream so gut wrenching that tears immediately stung my eyes. “I’m sorry baby I have to stop the bleeding, I’m sorry, you’re okay, please stay with me.” The desperation in my voice was rising, my fear and sadness palpable. “Sam, fucking help me!” I roared, keeping pressure on the wound. Jas kept squirming and letting out weaker and weaker screams. The life was fading from her eyes quickly.

“Shane.” Sam’s voice was dripping with sadness, and I could see tears glistening in his eyes when I glanced over at him. Jas took a long, shuddering breath before going limp in my arms. “No…no you’re okay baby come back to me, you’re okay.” I scooped her up and rocked her back and forth, sobs racking my entire body as I held her lifeless body.