#youll survive i promise

[thefirstlioveyou]

oops

[melblur]

atm im horrifically abusing my dear PlayStation Portable (2006) through USB data transferring 1 762 songs worth of SiIvaGunner albums onto it

[lecliss]

The choice from Sunday is kinda weird cuz the options are build a cage in the house for the bird or build a nest where it fell and one leads to the bird growing up but dying once its set free and the other one probably leads to it dying much sooner. They both feel like the same option and even tho obviously the most kind, caring, morally right thing to do is keep it inside so at least it lives longer even if it's in a cage. But like to me both options suck and are basically nothing cuz I'm sorry if I look like a bad person for this, but I'm not sorry, but I'm not fuckin touching a wild animal. Even if I knew it was there even if I bothered to check out the sound to find a bird, which I wouldn't, I'm not touching it. I'm not even getting close enough to find out it's too young to fly yet. Whatever happens to it happens man and I'll never know what happens to it cuz I'm not even gonna look at it. Like, where's the 'you seem like an asshole but really it's quite a normal choice' in this whole trial thing??? That's usually an option you can pick. Sunday!!! Sunday, listen!!! There are more than two choices!!! You don't have to always do something!!!! You can just walk away!!! You don't have to try to do something for everyone all the time!!! Think about yourself sometimes!!! It's not selfish I promise!!! SUNDAY!!! OH MY GOD HIS WINGS ARE COVERING HIS EARS HE CANT HEAR US!!!!

[champmorado]

i think its morally okay when locals/natives of global south nations scam white tourists. in fact i think it should happen more

[gammija]

ive been trying for 30 mins to write a post about why the Web's plan is still confusing, but I think I should face the truth and admit to myself that it's not that it makes no sense, it's just... so convoluted

[tgirlwithreverb]

I saw that post about what to do if you're homeless again (the one that starts by telling you to spend all of your money on motel rooms lmao) anyway, here's a few thoughts, specifically for trans girls, cuz I don't really care otherwise tbh:

1) plan ahead, most trans girls are in precarious housing situations, you will have a much easier time when it falls apart if you already have a pack with most of the gear you need in it. Also, if you find yourself in a situation where you cant make rent, dont pay part of it, spend that money on gear, pocket the rest and leave, youll have a much nicer time. Look up your local eviction laws, you have plenty of time. (Gear list at the end)

2) travel! If you're in Arizona in May, leave. it's about to be hot as hell. If you're in Michigan in October, leave. It's about to be cold as hell. If you're in a big city, leave. It's way easier to be homeless pretty much anywhere else. Amtrak is cheaper and more comfortable than greyhound, hitchhiking is free and easy, if you're alone it's not that much slower than the previous two, and it's more fun, and sometimes people buy you food or whatever or give you money. I promise it's not scary and you're entirely capable of doing it, no matter who you are. 95+% of people who will pick you up are very nice. All you have to do is take the bus out of town, as far down the highway you can, to an exit with a truck stop if possible, then just stand on the side of the road with your thumb out until someone picks you up. You can stand at the bottom of the ramp(on the highway) near where the merge lane ends or at the top of the ramp(where there's usually a traffic light), the former is more likely to lead to cop interactions but will maybe get you a ride faster, check on hitchwiki for how the cops are in the area. don't be afraid to take a commuter bus or Amtrak to get out of a shitty cop area

3) skip shelters if you can (they are very occasionally a decent place to get stuff from) and encampments, good places to sleep include the trees near railroad tracks or highways, wooded areas behind shopping centers, sections of parks without paths, overgrown empty lots. Hang a tarp above you if there's an appreciable chance of rain, there's tons of YouTube tutorials on how to do this, maybe I'll make a post about what I usually do some day. There are many habits more fun than motel rooms, save your money for them lmao.

4) get on food stamps. This is easier in some places than others, but it makes the whole thing a lot easier. Just tell them you're homeless, if they don't give you a card the same day, you can probably ask to pick it up from that office, alternatively some drop in centers/day shelters can receive mail for you, or you can have it sent to general delivery(USPS service, look it up)

7) libraries are great for charging your phone and using wifi, but also keep an eye out, plenty of random outlets on the outsides of buildings are also powered

5) dumpster. sidewalk trash cans, Aldi, Einstein's, trader Joe's, pizza places, etc. You need to develop a bit of a sense for it but it's an easy way to get cooked food or travelling food or expensive food without spending resources. Also it's fun.

6) water is free, go into the bathroom of any gas station or grocery store in America(offer not valid in most big cities or on the west coast, but in that case just go to the library) and fill up your water bottle

8) hygiene notes: truckers get free showers from chain truck stops(loves, pilot/flying j) go there and ask them. convenient if you're hitchhiking, also you don't need to shower 3 times a day, really, you'll survive. Ditto with deodorant. Take care of your teeth though. Take your socks off every. day. Change them consistently. Safety razors give a good shave, work well without adequate water pressure, and the replacement blades are very stealable, they're kind of heavy though. Walmart makes these electric razors for women that take AA batteries and are pretty light but give a worse shave, also they kinda go through batteries, pick whatever works for you(cartridge razors suck)

9) traveling food notes: peanut butter is great, tortillas and bagels travel pretty well, tuna packets are pretty good protein for traveling(the ones with rice and beans or whatever are nice since theyre often the same price as the regular), condiment packets are free, hot sauce makes everything better, and mayo goes well with tuna and has a bunch of calories in it, salad dressing packets are free from truck stops and work well turning the Walmart shredded vegetable packages (labeled for making into slaw, next to the bagged salads) into a salad with real vegetables(not iceberg lettuce) in it or mixing in with tuna packets for even more calories than mayo

Gear world:

Necessary items(in order of importance): a gallon of water carrying capacity(an Arizona jug or other twist top jug is conventional, but a bladder+arizona bottles also works), a tarp(larger than 6'x9', not brightly colored), a hank of parachord, a sleeping bag (20° rated, synthetic insulation), a backpack with a padded hip belt(at least 50L, no more than 75), rain gear(a rain poncho might cover your pack too, a rain jacket can help with wind when its cold, a trash bag inside or outside your pack can keep it dry, a plan to watch the weather and not get caught also works), a z-fold foam sleeping pad, three pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear (at least one pair of boxer breifs strongly recommended if you arent incredibly skinny), a decent pair of shoes with good arch support, a functional jacket(skip if you got a rain jacket before), a base layer(wool or poly, absolutely no cotton)

Convenient items: a sleeping bag liner(cotton free, keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer), gallon zip locks to pack your stuff in(helps keep it dry and organized), no more than one change of clothes(as light as possible), a multi-tool(can opener, pliers, wire cutter), lighter(burning rope ends etc), spoon, floss and needles for patching

[whitemancumslut]

domestic things fbh and y/n would do

word count: fluff, mentions of smut

OKAY I SOOO IMAGINE you're both nineteen. you have a famous boyfriend. how is it that you guys survived all this madness. people swear he's a womanizer, but this is the sweetest man you've ever met. harry loved you to pieces. treated you like the only girl in the world.

i strongly believe harry's love language is physical touch. he's obsessed with you. all of over you. "harry styles womanizer," the articles and comments made by older woman in interviews hurt his heart so much. knowing you don't think the same, but the internet didn't. of course they didn't. the internet was filled with mean teenage girls who wished on your downfall. year 2013 was the year of it all. i swear, he'd mentally get all up in his head about the womanizer comments, promise you that not a word of that is true, repeatedly, while you tell him you believe and trust him with every bone in your body.

at one point in the relationship some fans came to the realization harry in fact wasn’t going to leave you for one of them.

what is personal space?

harry was overall obsessed with the idea of you and only you. be wasn't scared to show his affection in public. although you were iffy of the idea of going out more as the band grew bigger as did harry's mobs.

• whenever he went on stage, he always needed his good luck kiss. it was like a good luck charm. whether he needed a quickie in the dressing room or a quick peck it always happened. it 'calmed his nerves.'

• never letting you go. i swear i can't get this idea out of my head. he is the type to stand with his arms wrapped around your torso, waist- just your front.

• kissing your neck, the back of your neck, letting you know who was still there. immediately relaxing your body.

harry definitely goes “without me?” whenever you shower or mention you’re going to.

when he does, he scrubs your hair for you, your back…. and sometimes it gets a little out of hand

after he gets off stage it’s a peck and “howd i do?”

you constantly remind him of how great he is.

makes sure you're safe when you go out without him. you know he's part of the biggest boy band ever. whether you're getting coffee, going to the arena, you're mobbed.

if you were to go out with someone other than harry, maybe one of your friends, while he was out at rehearsal or whatever it was— he would always try to keep contact with you.

if you went shopping he would want you to send photos of you trying on clothes.

“wow.”

“get the red.”

going to sleep

harry takes off his shirt at night, laying in his boxers.

he lives for cuddles. he doesn’t matter if he’s the big or little spoon as long as you’re there with him.

however if he is big spoon, he is completely cradling you into his arms. it’s the cutest thing ever. it’s like he’s scared youll get taken in your slumber.

big spoon turning into little spoon over night. he’ll be holding you and then all of a sudden, while you sleep you turn towards his and subconsciously wrap your arms around him and he would subconsciously fall against you and let himself be held.

waking up

“no. five more minutes” he’ll babble nothings that you won’t even try to understand.

pecking your temple and convincing you to stay in bed with him 5 more minutes.

he doesn’t care for morning breath. he would have a full on make out session with you.

only way to get him up early is proposing showering together and he’s up and ready.

fbh is such a passionate kisser. his kisses would be so arnghhhhhh, right??

temple kisses. they’re comforting.

he kisses you on the lips so softly. you know his rhythm. you’ve studied it since you got together.

he’s always mindful when kissing.

if it’s to get intimate he will always attempt to let his tongue past your lips and see if you reciprocate.

if he’s having trouble before stage. anxiety persay, you’re always there speaking him through it.

always assuring him he did well.

[foolishly-snowy]

hello haiii. grins, bats eyelashes etc etc. dropping this guy by your doorstep....... he's my sparklecare sona! one fun fact about them is that it loooves crocheting. is he good at it? no! does he enjoy it anyways? yes!

he's just trying to survive. that hospital is a hellhole!!!!!

YESS I RECOGNIZE THIS BEASTIE!! follow your dreams little guy keep on doing what you love!! youll make it, i promise!!! thank you for letting me draw them!!! <3

[serenescribe]

hi hi Ell 👋 I wanted to send a prompt, so i hope youll find this one nice to think about :)

So we know in canon that Lilia trained Silver and Sebek while they were kids, and that his training was a bit unorthodox to say the least. We also know that Silver thinks the world of his father, that he feels indebted to him for life and that he'd give anything to repay that debt. With those facts I offer you a beloved scenario of mine where Lilia trains Silver and takes it too far but doesn't realise it until its too late.

Maybe he's making him spar, maybe he's asking him to do some insane physical effort, whatever it is he's determined to have Silver execute it perfectly. And Silver is tired, because he's like 12, he's been doing this since dawn and he barely ate any of the lunch his father made him (lets face it it wouldve been worse if he ate it). At this point his body is screaming at him to just stop and rest but he refuses to back down before he gives his father what he wants. The issue is that since he's not feeling his best, he's actually doing worse than he was at the beginning and Lilia of course notices. And maybe its the fact that this setting is similar to the one he was in back when he trained recruits as a general, or maybe he got frustrated that he couldnt manage to get him to do better but Lilia decides to try a different approach to motivate his son. He gets mean; taunting and berating Silver for not making any progress, telling him that maybe they should just stop his training altogether if this is the best he can do. But instead of getting fired up and angry like Lilia expected, like his recruits used to do, Silver completely breaks down. He slumps on the ground in front of him weeping, begging for just one more chance and promising he can do better. The mental and physical exhaustion weighs heavily on him and he swears he won't be a burden in future sessions, swears that he'll train day and night if need be to improve but he pleads his father not to give up on him. And Lilia, completely caught off guard by the situation, has to figure out how the hell to comfort his son and convince him that he didnt mean any of the words he spoke

hope you have a fun time writing bye bye!! 🌟

the way this prompt broke my heart when it first hit my inbox :') but at least it's hurt/comfort for once rather than flat out angst...? i hope i did it justice!

(also thank you to lacky my beloved for helping me with some dialogue bc oh my god writing mean dialogue killed me ;;; sobs)

Clang!

The sound of sword against sword reverberates through the air, accompanied by the haggard, weary sound of someone panting. Lilia narrows his eyes, his sword still outstretched, pressed against that of his opponent — his son, Silver, who is also his student.

Silver’s chest expands and contracts, lips parted as he sucks in another deep breath. The practice blade in his hand trembles before finally, he gives in. The sword drops to the ground below with a clatter.

“I yield,” Silver says, voice strained, dropping to his knees. He raises his arms, conceding in defeat.

But all Lilia can think, staring at his son before him, is that this is not good enough.

He knows what Silver is capable of, has been training his son by his own hands for the past few years. Silver shows plenty of promise, and it is up to Lilia to hone that potential to a perfect sheen, be it physical training or weaponry, such as the sword fights they practise so often. Lessons on survival, giving him tasks to complete in the elements. Things that Silver takes to like a duck to water, obediently heeding Lilia’s every word, carrying out his instructions with ease.

So to witness him concede so easily, dropping to the ground, averting his gaze as his body trembles?

Lilia is disappointed.

In a way, it reminds him of his days as the general during the wars he’d fought. There had been many a soldier who had not taken his instructions seriously, always putting in the bare minimum until he whipped them into shape. All he had to do was set his cold, calculating eyes on them, lips spouting cruel, judgemental words, before they’d be roaring to go. Pride is one of the things that the fair folk value deeply, after all, and back then, the many recruits under his command had not taken kindly to Lilia’s implications that they were as useful as the dirt under his heels.

And so Lilia opens his mouth, and says:

“If this is the best you can muster, then why bother?”

Silver stiffens.

“I’m disappointed, Silver. I’ve seen peasants with no training do better than this.” Lilia’s lips thin, a hand resting on his hip, practice sword still hanging from his other hand. “If you cannot even master the basics, how do you expect to get any better? No, better yet, how do you possibly expect to guard Malleus as his knight if this is the best you can do?”

Lilia’s eyes narrow as he drops into a crouch, arms folded across his knees as he meets his son’s wide eyes.

“I didn’t teach you to be this awful,” Lilia utters, voice entirely flat. “If this is the way you’re treating your training, then perhaps we ought to stop it altogether.” He curls his lip. “Is that not what you’d prefer, given your demeanour?”

Rising from the ground, Lilia holds out his sword, pointing the tip of the blunted blade towards his son’s crouching form.

“I shall allow you one last chance,” he breathes. “Pick up your sword, Silver. Get up now.”

Silver doesn’t respond.

Lilia clenches his teeth. “Pick it up!”

It is only then, when Silver uncurls himself to reach for the discarded blade at the side with trembling hands, that Lilia falters. He watches through widening eyes as Silver raises his head and, instead of the fiery enthusiasm and determination he saw so often in so many of his old soldiers, there is a watery desperation wavering in those big, auroral eyes. Silver’s lips tremble, his movements sluggish, and as he shoves himself onto his feet, Lilia realises—

Silver isn’t being lazy. He’s swaying from side to side, almost stumbling over his own feet, shaking uncontrollably as he raises his blade to meet Lilia’s own.

Oh, he realises, spotting something glistening along those rounded cheeks. Silver is crying.

In that instant, any trace of General Vanrouge, feared and renowned amidst those of the Valley, vanishes, dissipating in the blink of an eye. Left in its place is only Lilia Vanrouge, father of one.

His sword drops to the ground with a clatter. Lilia surges forward, any thoughts of training pushed squarely out of his mind as he wraps his hands around Silver’s shoulders, staring at him with his heart rattling against his chest. Shit, Lilia thinks. He’s well and truly fucked up now, hasn’t he?

“Silver,” Lilia starts, struggling for the words. What can he possibly say here? He reaches up, wipes away a stray tear that rolls down his son’s cheek. “Silver, you— you can drop your sword now.”

“No!” The outburst startles him, Silver’s usually quiet disposition interrupted by the force of his refusal. Silver all but collapses, pulling Lilia down with him; his knees buckle, and he hits the ground with a painful thud. Silver’s free hand reaches up to wipe at his tears to no avail. “I-I can do it! I can fight—”

“You can’t, Silver—”

“P-Please, just—” Hanging his head, Silver sobs brokenly, and it shatters something within Lilia. How had he not noticed all along, how absolutely exhausted Silver was? “J-Just give me one more chance,” his son begs, shaking his head. The grip on his sword loosens, causing the weapon to clatter to the ground. “I swear, I’ll train day and night to improve, I w-won’t be a burden anymore, please—”

“Silver,” Lilia repeats, voice firm, fingers curling tight around his son’s shoulders. He— he’s taken completely aback, caught off guard; he’d expected something akin to the fiery resolution of the soldiers of the past, not… not this.

Silver is twelve, a tiny part of Lilia remembers. His heart seizes again, a reminder that perhaps this time, he had gone way too far. Silver is young, and for Lilia to have treated him the way he would have treated a grown fae…

He’s not the general anymore. There’s no need for him to train Silver to such rigid standards.

Slowly, Lilia leans forward, wrapping his arms around Silver’s back. He pulls the sobbing boy against his chest, murmuring soft words under his breath in a bid to reassure him. And for a while, that’s all they do — Lilia, holding his son in his arms, ignoring the ache in his knees as he rubs Silver’s back gently, and Silver, who blubbers apologies and pleads for leniency until his begging collapses into crying, and he buries his head in the fabric of Lilia’s sweat-stained shirt.

Eventually, when Silver’s cries peter out into a sniffling silence, Lilia pulls away from him. He reaches out to cup his cheek, thumbing at the tearstained skin with a sad smile across his lips. “How do you feel now, dear?”

Silver bites his lip, eyes flicking away. He sniffles, before he mumbles, “I… I’m okay now, Father. I can fight.”

“I think we’ve had enough sparring for today, actually,” Lilia sighs wearily. When he sees the way Silver stiffens at his words, he adds, “That is a decision made on my account, not yours. I am not disappointed in you, Silver. Far from it; I am only disappointed in myself for not noticing how exhausted you are… far more than usual, anyway.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Lilia chides, though his tone is light. He exhales. “I think we should perhaps clean up for the day. And then I’ll see to dinner, hm?”

“I’ll help you!” Silver blurts out, a little shakily, and Lilia smiles. Even after everything, Silver is still so willing to help… Truly, Lilia would not have faulted him at all if he would have liked to take some time to himself, especially after he so carelessly spouted such cruel words towards his son.

As Lilia rises to his feet, holding out a hand to help his son up, Silver meets his eyes. He hiccups. “So… you’re not mad at me…?”

“I am not,” Lilia assures, leaning in to pull the boy into another hug. “And…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I am truly sorry, Silver, for pushing you that far. I should not have said what I did.”

And from the way Silver relaxes in his hold, pulling away to give him a small smile, Lilia knows that this will be enough, for now.

[plantwriting]

Okay, rolans solo session is done! Not much to say tbh because i hadnt forgotten much, but! Here are a few things

Okay where did i decide that rolan had strict parents. Like i guess i looked at him being slightly more responsible and having a somewhat strained relationship with them and came to that conclusion? Or the mentions of him like sneaking out of the house as a teen? I dont know? Its not like something i saw in a fic and just took to myself because i thought that while still listening to the series so before i could have been affected by any non canon material. I dont know. Welp whatever im sticking with it! In my heart kian’s parents were neglectful as shit, rand’s mom is great and dad is. Eh. And rolan’s parents were strict and pretty religious even for their time. Okay cool

I really want to know what rolan’s strength is. Like condi said it was high, but. Thats all i have for now. Is it higher than rand’s? Maybe. Dont know. Anyways yes prepare to read kian being carried by rolan (and probably at some point rand) in a later fic yes this is wish fulfillment through the character i relate to

So many subtle foreshadowing things about rolan being a bug… “you wouldnt be one of them” “promise me youll be our rolan” etc… just. Amazing job charlie slimecicle

Okay very quick point that i feel i need to make. Rolan. After being in a car crash. And having his arm get broken. After a single night at the hospital and some first aid by rand was at the same amount of hp as kian’s max. Like holy shit thats terrifying to think about why is kian so fragile

Where did the idea of rolan doing track come from? Like at this point ive just accepted it fanon is fun but like. I. I need to know. Did just one person mix up track and long jumping at some point and everyone else just went with it??? I didnt listen to bitb yet when it first came out i dont know Edit: apparently if you do long jumping you just typically also do track, i have learnt new things! Im not a sports person unsurprisingly lol

Its so fucking funny to me that like at the same time story wise Rolan is encountering and surviving an entire hoard of the creatures while getting very valuable information, Rand is almost dying in a swamp from looking at the sky too hard, and Kian is literally dying from being a simp. Beautiful.

[zack-agere]

hiiiii mr (?) zack semi regwessed but tingz r vewy scawy rn... do u think u can spread some positivity 4 ppl who r scawed ???? — 🌌

hi, sorry you're scared right now. ♡

and, yes, of course I can !

just know that every single time you feel like you can't do it, you've cried, gotten hurt, etc, you've survived.

you've survived 100% of all your worst days and experiences, and just know that you can do it again, and again, and again.

whether its very serious or as simple as seeing something you don't like, keep in mind that you'll be okay, no matter how long it may take for you to stop being scared.

and if you can't? don't worry. everyone goes their own pace, and some people need more comfort, support, and reassuring than others.

youll be okay, and you'll make it out all right. I promise. ☆

[jewishdainix]

Guys promise me that on the fifth of june 2024 you will not send me anything like "happy birthday" or "mazal tov mina" isntead youll send "happy barricade day" and "it will all be alright mina, you just have to survive this i belive in you" and "you can have sex now"

[gamblersdoll]

𝓕𝓞𝓡 𝓨𝓞𝓤, 𝓘 𝓦𝓘𝓛𝓛 FIN

the happy ending that guts should have gotten.

“my last breaths will be both your names.”

and he could only mean that with the upmost amount of love and protection that he could ever offer you. only months had past from you and his night of intangible promise.

and you three were finally left the hell alone, for the most part.

“rickert finally made his way back.” casca had said, grooming her longer hair. she had came to somewhat like it, it holding the memory of surviving the eclipse, several traumatic memories and held the smell of you both.

meanwhile guts, all he had was you both, feeling finally at peace knowing casca had remembrance of him. yet, had to be shielded away, any chance of looking at him, she would lose her mind again.

and he was heartbroken at this, not being able to look at her unless she had to be sleep. but yet, he was more over happy that she can still call his name, speak verbal sentences.

and he was also more than happy seeing she can be herself again— a strong, faithful, beautiful leader that she was. thats who she was, thats all he wanted back.

and you? you had finally learn to trust. the eclipse made you more than unforgiving, not trusting a soul– even if it was who you knew. yet, guts and casca had showed you how to care again, to trust. and helped you remember that you dont have to forgive anyone, yet, forgiving yourself for thinking any of it couldve been your fault. forgiveness was a privilege, an option only you can give to others.

and you would never, forgive griffith for what he had done to all of you.

“hey.” guts pat your hip, leaning closer. “youre thinkin’ about it again.” he had pointed to your knee, bouncing fast and hard.

“its okay, we’re all here.” casca had reminded, interlocking pinkies with each you and guts. although she couldnt physically see him, she felt him.

“i know.”

they both simultaneously give each side of your cheeks a peck, you leaning on his shoulder to find yourself some heat.

“im never losing either of you ever again.” he said, casca closing her eyes and leaning on him, as well. he wraps his arms around both of you, stroking his fingertips up and down your spines.

“feeling’s mutual.” she said, flicking at his chest. he doesnt react, only smiling a bit in contentment.

“wanna hold hands?” he teased, patting both of you on the butt.

“pervert.” she smacked him away, ending up laughing with the both of you. “guts..”

he hummed, she then looking to you. both you and casca had non-verbal communication, thats just because both you and her were the same. you both were also women in a place like this. “will you, still be here with us? or will you leave again?”

he shook his head.

“youll stay with us?” you asked, memories of his departure back then, the reason griffith threw his tantrum. it wasn’t fear of the same happening again, it was merely to plan on what to do.

“for you, i will.”

[proshippers-against-censorship]

i hate seeing an anti just say 'why do you get upset when someone ships alastor with someone, ok hes ace but it doesnt matter its not canon, i promise youll survive (unless its a PROSHIP)'

theyre so clooooose to having it, it hurts....

So, so very close. Tantalizingly close.

[sankttealeaf]

okay. have a sneak peak of the next chapter of let sleeping dogs lie. im feeling nice

“I should’ve stopped her,” Gale says, feeling rather useless right now. He looks down at his hands and thinks of everything he could’ve done to stop this. How did he miss her plotting this? Was he too caught up in her past mistakes to realise she’s hurting and felt that the only way to resolve this was to-- “Gale.” Wyll turns him to face him, a frown on his face. “We can’t think like that."

He’s about to fall into a rabbit hole of what-ifs until Wyll pulls him in for a hug, tight and grounding and it’s what he needs to keep steady. They’ve fixed death before - a scroll of revivify will certainly work and if not they’ll need to hunt down Withers and make him fix this. 

“It’ll be alright, I promise you.” They pull away and Wyll gives him a smile. “I’m certain we can survive a trip down to the fugue plane to bring her back.”

its the gale and wyll show, mostly. because i love them. and they are rue's besties. also withers isnt around. youll see why later. its all fine. hes doing his job

[lotties-ashwagandha]

hey booger eater and diaper sniffer. fun request for you: can you write me an x reader where the reader and character are exes, but still have them little bit of feelings for eachother. maybe some angst, maybe some fluff,,,, perhaps a try-this-thing-one-last-time: anything you could dream of.

with your choice of character, go crazy i wanna read about any of these ladies

-your secret toe licker

p.s dale farted on your pillow last night

p.p.s youll never guess who this is

fucking hell dale. i’ll have to take him to the vet later 😒

—

TRUE THAT LOVE IN WITHDRAWAL WAS THE WEEPING OF ME

pairing: magna x fem!reader

word count: 1552

notes and warnings: title from “would that i” by hozier. i didnt proofread this bc i hate it woooo

If you hadn’t been so on edge, you would’ve laughed at the woman in front of you leading you into the settlement with a fucking katana in her hand. 

Her dark dreads swayed gently as she walked, and after a moment she returned the katana to its sheath, though every few seconds she turned back to make sure you were still following behind her unarmed. If you remembered correctly, you’d learned that her name was Michonne. 

She had found you in the woods attempting to fight off a horde of walkers on your own. Your community had been raided a few weeks ago, overrun with the dead, and since then you’d been doing the best you could to ‘just figure it out.’ Michonne had been passing through, and after taking pity due to an injury you had faked, she had finally agreed to take you back to her settlement. ‘Alexandria,’ she had called it. 

You could see the metal wall in the distance that led to the settlement. Your heart began to race as you came closer, a thousand possibilities presenting yourself and promising themselves to you if you could only convince the settlement to keep you. You could shoot, though your aim was less than impressive, but you were able to get the job done. 

You began to formulate a little speech in your head, for you were determined to stay in the settlement. You knew your chances of survival became extremely low when you were left on your own. 

Before you had finished formulating an idea of what you were going to say, you had reached the entrance to the community with Michonne. She shouted up to the guards standing on the platforms behind the wall, and after a moment the gate opened, and you were being ushered through. 

The community was huge. Giant gardens lined the walls, townhouses cluttering the area, and in the center was a—

You’d barely registered something coming down on the back of your head before you dropped to the ground. 

—

The first thing you noticed was the heavy silence that occupied the room. 

The second thing you noticed came when you opened your eyes and noticed the bars on the window, locking you in the room you had been put in. 

Your head was pounding. Gingerly you reached up and ran your hand over the back of your head, wincing when you made contact. 

“What the fuck,” you whispered to yourself, coming to a stand. The door to the room was locked, as you’d expected, but your heart still dropped a little in disappointment at the discovery. 

You began to pace the room. The single window that led outside was too small to crawl through, even if the bars weren’t keeping you from trying. The door wouldn’t come unlocked no matter how hard you tried, and the— 

The door unlocked from the other side, and after a moment it swung open. 

It took every bit of self-control you possessed not to lunge at Michonne, and perhaps you would have had she not been in constant possession of her katana and her guns. 

She stalked into the room, the air heavy between you with a rather malicious mutual distrust. 

“What the fuck is all this for?” You snapped, gesturing to the barred windows and the empty room. “You fucking psycho.” 

She ignored your insult, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. “We had to make sure you weren’t bit. I was going to have you thrown out regardless, because we can hardly feed the community as it is,” she said irritably, “but someone vouched for you.” 

“What?” 

“Someone who knew you, apparently, from another settlement.” 

As if on cue, you heard another set of footsteps, and appearing in the doorway was her. She had on her signature worn blue button-up over a black tank top, and her unruly auburn hair had grown a bit since you’d last seen her. You felt sick all of a sudden, incomprehensibly startled by her presence. You had thought she was dead, and to be quite honest, you wouldn’t have minded if she had been. 

“Magna,” you breathed, and she averted her eyes, leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed. You cleared your throat, attempting to gather yourself. “Yumiko and Kelly and the others, are they…?” 

“They’re alive,” she answered, “but Bernie, he got bit.” 

You nodded, releasing a shaky breath. You hadn’t seen her in what must have been about six months. You’d left after your settlement came under new leadership, a decision Magna and the others supported but you had loathed. You and Magna hadn’t exactly parted on good terms, and after a few weeks on the road you had found another small community to join, but that, too, had fallen. “How long ago did the settlement fall?” you asked, speaking of the community you’d left Magna and the others in. 

“About a week after you left,” Magna admitted. “You were right.” 

“You should have gone with me.” 

“And what, left Yumiko? Kelly and Connie? We had this conversation a million times.” 

“I don’t regret my decision,” you said, firm in your resolve. It was like you were still there, in the kitchen of the small apartment the two of you had shared in the previous community. You could almost see her standing by the window, looking out into the empty street as if seeing the physical embodiment of reality was the only thing anchoring her in her refusal to leave. 

Michonne cleared her throat, reminding you both of her presence. 

You shifted in your stance. “So I’m staying, then, you said?” 

“If you’d like to.” 

You nodded, moving toward the door. 

“I heard you can shoot,” Michonne said, stopping you in your tracks. “Magna says your quite impressive.” 

You fought back a sigh, trying as discreetly as you could to give Magna a withering glare, to which she only smirked. It was a special kind of irritation that plagued you knowing she had deliberately talked up your least developed skill. You could aim directly to the right and somehow your gun would shoot left, and Magna knew it. 

“I think we’ll put you on guard duty,” Michonne said, “with Magna.” 

—

It had been around two weeks since you had been put on guard duty. Your shooting was getting better, if only just the smallest bit, and to your luck you hadn’t worked many night shifts guarding the wall. 

You consistently did your very best to avoid Magna at all costs. You couldn’t say you loathed her anymore, but a great discomfort plagued you whenever she was around, and it made the occasional shifts you worked together more awkward than you would’ve liked to admit. Her attempts at making conversation were received with dull responses on your end – part of you still held a grudge from all those months ago, the back and forth arguments the two of you’d had over what was best for the previous settlement and whether or not you should leave. 

Above all, it tortured you that in a way, you still cared. Whenever she was around it was like you had been thrown into boiling water, subjected to the torture that was both your persisting anger and your unfaltering love. 

On your first nightshift, however, everything changed. 

The two of you had been paired together for the shift, which was to start at sunset and end just before sunrise. You would be subjected to one another’s presence all night, and you weren’t sure you would be able to bear it. 

Magna was twenty minutes late that night. 

“Where have you been?” you grumbled as she positioned herself beside you. She had pulled her hair into a messy bun, though a few auburn curls hung loose in disarray, contrasting her black sweater. 

“Suddenly you care about where I go and what I do?” she asked with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re late.” 

“I was with Carol.” 

“You seem quite close with Carol.” 

“Yeah, we were banging,” she teased, and you sighed. “She has a veterinary kink.” 

“You’re so fucking weird,” you replied, and couldn’t help but smile. 

“Holy fuck,” Magna breathed, “did I just make you smile?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Make me.” 

You paused, turning to glance at her, seeing the look she gave you. 

She leaned slightly against the wall, raising her eyebrows as if in challenge. 

You moved forward until mere inches separated you. She had a look of pride in her eyes as if she had won, and though it tormented you, deep down you loved it, wanted more. You missed this, missed her, the ongoing bantering that expressed a love you wouldn’t dare try to describe. 

You leaned in closer, waiting for her to close in the space. 

She moved to bring her lips to yours, but at the last minute you backed away, smirking. 

“Your shoe is untied,” you said, and she shook her head. 

“You bitch.” 

“I won’t kiss you until you tie your shoes. I can’t be looking like a fool, making out with someone who doesn’t tie their shoes.” 

And you’d won, for now – but both of you knew it was only for a moment, and that when the moment came, you would gladly surrender to her every victory. 

----

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