#ems 2 person survival blanket

[makenna-made-this]

This could be us in the EMS 2-Person Survival Blanket but you playin

#draw your ship #i have a $10 coupon and WHY IS THIS A PICTURE ON THEIR ONLINE STORE ASKLJDLAS:JSA #HELP ME IM CRYING #makenna made a shitpost #ems 2 person survival blanket

[eriexplosion]

MOVING FROM SOME EASY EPISODES TO THE HARDEST. OUTPOST.

Do y'all remember the hype for this episode like we knew it was THE Crosshair episode and everyone was absolutely thirsting for it.

"A new friend is made on a harsh and unforgiving outpost planet" WHO WROTE THIS SUMMARY?

Like yes technically accurate as it doesn't specify that the new friend survives the friendship.

Crosshair clearly paying much more attention to the regs these days, at this point I do think he's pretty much had all his bullshit beaten out of him when it comes to thinking he's better than anyone else. Just in time for Crosshair's Worse Time Parade to start.

Much like Hemlock, Lieutenant Nolan is established as absolute garbage the instant he sees Crosshair taking like two seconds to breathe out of his helmet and tells him he's out of uniform. If The Bad Batch can do one thing it's write a man that sucks.

AND THEN HE MAKES IT WORSE WITH "I DON'T LIKE USED EQUIPMENT"

Literally would kill this man myself and he's been on screen for 30 seconds

THE ICE VULTURE <3 OUR BOY'S NEW MOTIF <3

MAYDAY. MAYYYYYDAYYYYYY.

HE IS HERE!

God Mayday was complicated because like I loved him from the moment I saw him but also like, coming into this episode just logistically we knew anyone that showed Crosshair a hint of kindness was almost certainly going to get killed, so Mayday is loved for the exact thing that put him on the path to narrative doom. Reinforcements or no reinforcements, it doesn't matter, Mayday was never leaving Barton IV alive.

They waited 36 rotations. 4 days longer than Crosshair was left to nearly starve on a platform. If I remember correctly (I'm not there yet) Crosshair says the trip took 2 hours. None of their lives were worth two hours.

THE WAY MAYDAY HAS TWO, TWO MEN LEFT UNDER HIS COMMAND. ONLY TWO. HE HAD TO WATCH THE REST ALL DIE UNDER HIS WATCH. I AM SO FUCKING UNWELL ABOUT HIM.

I really love the name Hexx btw

"Respect is something to be earned." And immediately Nolan goes nuclear to insult him because he wasn't instantly given unconditional deference.

YEP IT WAS TWO HOURS. TWO HOURS OUT OF THE WAY.

I am going to scream from the layers of unfair this is.

The way Mayday's voice softens a touch when left alone with Crosshair though, always gentler with another clone.

I'm still not over the LONG pause after Mayday introduces himself, like Crosshair is trying to dig past the shields he put up between himself and his situation to remember his own name. He probably hasn't heard it at all since Cody.

Mayday looked at Crosshair and apparently felt the desperation for company rolling off him in smothering waves because he instantly is just like 'you're under my wing now'

That he's been out here over a year meaning that the Empire has been established for over a year is a lot to take in like god Crosshair has been away from home for so long.

"You'll freeze to death in that armor" He is like 10 seconds from wrapping Crosshair in a blanket I swear to god I'm only slightly projecting.

"Vicious creatures, but you have to admire 'em. They find a way to survive." GOD I LOVE THAT LINE. ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC.

Using the explosion through heat vision to completely screw Crosshair's up for the shot was such a good excuse to have him just wound the guy instead of kill him, lol.

Still was surprised to see a blood trail in this cartoon, but sure they can't show us any sign of Tech's body right (YES I AM STILL ON THIS AND WILL BE UNTIL THEY SHOW US THE BOY)

Goddddd him putting Hexx and Veetch's helmets next to all of the others. His very last brothers, the men he was responsible for, god I am in tatters about it. Every second of this episode is just. Grief and Pain.

"Remind me not to die on your watch" Don't worry you're the only person that's been nice to him in months he will literally drag you through hell to save your life. Crosshair just has what we call "Something is wrong with him" disease and all of his words pass through the cortex that makes him rude before getting to you.

My thoughts on this mine disarming scene are Many but let it just be said that I still cannot believe they put this on my screen, it was made explicitly for me to be feral to.

Mayday has learned fast how to talk to Crosshair though, gotta give him some snark back.

"They're... gone." "And here we are. The survivors."

GOD I AM UNHINGED ABOUT THIS.

"If I don't hear a boom then I'll know it worked." "Glad you're confident in your work." "Oh I'm confident, I'm just not stupid."

I just love this back and forth dynamic that they hit perfectly and immediately.

Hey Crosshair actually wins a hand to hand fight all he has to do is sneak up on them and not give them the opportunity to actually hit him back.

Shout out to the guy whose first instinct was to try and RUN MAYDAY OVER WITH A CAR like it didn't work but impressive ingenuity.

Clones dying to guard the gear intended for their replacements god it makes me ILL.

"We're good soldiers. We followed orders. And for what?"

The entire thing is designed to drive a wedge into Crosshair's brain and break through the thick shield he's built around himself where he is so sure if he just follows orders Well Enough maybe he can make everything he's done and lost worth it in the end but he can't because he never had a future in the Empire and no amount of sunk cost fallacy will change that.

AND JUST IN TIME FOR HIS EPIPHANY WE GET THE AVALANCHE.

Literally would be so fascinating to see exactly what was running through Mayday's head when he chose to push Crosshair out of the way of the rock instead of jumping to safety himself. He just met this guy, he's not technically responsible for him, but Mayday has lost every single soldier he was in command of, sole survivor of his unit, and he finally, finally had the opportunity to save someone. If he only saves one person, maybe he's done something worthwhile.

And honestly, Crosshair is trying to do the same back to him. Just Mayday dies knowing he succeeded and Crosshair lives knowing he failed.

I am fucking destroyed by this episode by the way like it is so unbearably good and also tragic as hell.

Mayday trying to get Crosshair to leave him behind and the music when Crosshair decides absolutely the fuck not. That they have one helmet between them and Crosshair put it on Mayday's head and not his own.

THE MUSIC AS CROSSHAIR IS SO DETERMINED TO DRAG HIM BACK AND THE ICE VULTURE OVERHEAD MY GOD.

The moment of them huddling together in a tiny little hideaway in the rock ends me too, like, images that stick in my head forever.

And despite everything Crosshair made it he got Mayday back to the outpost alive, he did everything to accomplish the impossible and it should have been enough, but it wasn't all because Nolan doesn't value either of their lives enough to even lift a single finger for Mayday.

Like Crosshair accomplishing the impossible through sheer stubbornness only to have it pulled away at the last second I am in AGONY.

HE GAVE MAYDAY HIS SNIPER RIFLE TO USE AS A CRUTCH FOR GODS SAKE

Crosshair taking Mayday's helmet off and at least giving him one last moment of human connection before it's over

The voice acting in this moment is absolutely unbelievable but especially on 'Help him' like give DBB all the money in the world because I was shattered.

THE FACT THAT THEY MADE US LISTEN TO MAYDAY GURGLE COUGH OUT HIS LAST BREATH AND SEE THE INSTANT HIS EYES ROLL BACK AND CLOSE

"He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire" OWN WORDS THROWN BACK INTO HIS FACE LIKE A FUCKING PUNCH

The way Crosshair's words drop back down into a growl as he says "You could have saved him." is so good too.

The music as it all reaches its boiling point, as he sees the vulture's shadow, then Mayday's body, then the vulture itself just. Oh god. This episode is a masterpiece and I'm still not over it. I don't think I'll ever be over it.

Like I still cannot BELIEVE we got this shot? The rock wings? I'm? Inconsolable?

Crosshair really probably thought he was going to die right there next to Mayday and honestly I think he was okay with it, in the worst way possible. Also him unconscious here is literally THE most relaxed I think we've ever seen his face.

But because this is only the start of Crosshair's Life Getting Much Much Worse he gets to live and wake up in a horrible science lab!

The sedative injection is much worse given the way that they torture him later.

"Cooperate and you might survive."

Literally one of the best episodes of anything I've ever seen I still cannot believe that we got it, truly. This episode is like 95% of the reason I have faith in the writers pulling through on the Tech Issue because I don't think anyone that gave Crosshair this episode arc would actually kill Tech off in such a stupid way on a completely pointless side quest.

I'm still on the rock wings and will be until further notice.

#the bad batch rewatch

[green-eyes-and-orange-ties]

🍋 Lemon Boys 🍋

Sparked from the Season 2 poster of Sebastian wearing Augur uniform and the idea that Sebastian might move in with Styx. I like the idea of him staying with Styx and feeling safe because of Styx's magic.

Key, latch, door. *Thud* Bag.floor.

As Seb dropped his bag he could feel the floor rushing to meet him, but two hands grabbed him first.

"Hey hey" then more gently, edged in concern "Bas?"

The Irish lilt brought his mind back from blankness, as he realised he was only half standing, propped up by Styx. Eyes closed, arms lead-heavy at his side. Seb didn't even attempt to move, what's the point he'd probably just end up on the hallway floor.

"mmfine"

Seb went to move away but as soon as his head lost contact Styx's shoulder, he lost contact with reality. A single hand guided him back, the other hadn't let go of his jacket. 'I should take that off' Sebastian thought vaguely.

"Like hell you are! you're dead on your feet! Whatd they make you do today?"

No answer, but Styx could feel Sebastian grimace against his shoulder and his own jaw tighten in response.

"Yea yea NDA blah blah. Come on let's get this off ya"

Styx started helping Sebastian roll the Augur jacket off his shoulders. The jacket bit was easy, swapping out Seb's shirt? That was harder, it relied on Seb being able to stand unaided and right now that seemed alot to ask.

"mmjust" Seb paused waiting for his breath to catch up "mmjust tired"

"Yeah, and I'm just old. Whydya have to and sign the flamin contract anyway ya eejit?"

No response. Not that Styx had really expected one. Just as he hadn't been expecting the new bruises making a patchwork of new and old across Seb's torso. It's hard to believe there was even space for new ones.

"Easy. Easy does it." Styx could have cursed the person responsible... would have if he knew who... or even where. Instead he settled for hissing through his teeth.

"Mmmfinedontworry" it came out more slurred than Seb had intended.

Does it count as slurring words if you sigh them all together? The thought floated through Seb's mind, as he sounded about as coherent as the rest of his world. Styx pulled an oversized shirt on to Seb ignoring his tired attempts at reassurance.

"You gonna sleep tonight?" Styx half asked, half instructed.

"You ever feel you've outlived your usefulness? Like maybe on the ship I ..."

"Fuck off with that right now."

"I just mean, sometimes feel like yea I survived ... but was I meant to? I feel like now I'm in a timeline that doesn't want me ... you know?"

"What I know is that you're here and that there's no use tryna guess what the 'universe' - or whatever - thinks of that."

Silence.

"Come on you'll feel better after you've slept." Styx threw a pillow at Seb.

Sleep. The word itself seemed to have a soporific effect on Seb and he felt his eyes welling up at the thought of being able to go to sleep.

"Look ya don't have to sleep in the bedroom, I was gonna watch something - if I can get the feckin screen to work - you can join if ya want."

Seb crumbled into corner of the sofa mumbling something about 'wards' and 'staying up' as sleep took over.

"Yeah, yeah, don't ya worry about that. I'll stay up and keep em goin" though Styx wasn't entirely sure whether Sebastian heard. Throwing a blanket over Seb, Styx glanced at the TV screen

"Yeah. No. Fuck that piece of shite."

He pulled a book from the stack on the coffee table and settled in to 'keep watch'. What did missing one night's sleep matter, he had forever to catch up anyway.

#CW swearing #cw implied violence #CW implied suicidal ideation #i love them your honour #lemon boys #i mean maybe Seb is in Augur clothes to work a desk job we dont know! however... #first draft written over lunchtime Beans so there are likely to be errors ... just as a lil warning #lunchbreak writings #dunno if this is fan-fiction? ficlet? idk - feel free to let me know and i'll amend the tags #Disclaimer: not used other peoples characters/every really gotten into fanfiction previously so if there are tags i should use lemme know #sebastian fen #Styx #night shift podcast #night shift pod #NSP

[teslacoils-and-hubris]

Send me your favourite villain/mad science troupes in media and I’ll respond with what I think of em A List Of Preferred Mad Scientist Tropes (please refer to the tv tropes page for further clarification)

1. Scary Shiny Glasses -(Lab goggles included.)

2. Evil laugh- (Even when the scientist is not evil or otherwise morally grey.)

3. Einstein Hair- (Provided it isn’t wild enough to get tangled in the experiments.)

4. Lab coat of science and medicine- (Especially when combined with the bad@$$ long coat or if bearing various stains/burns/splatters from experiments.) 

5.Motherly/(Fatherly) Scientist- (Especially when the scientist lets the adoptee/child act as their assistant/student with less dangerous experiments).

6.Omnidisciplinary Scientist- (When acknowledged or lampshaded as to the rarity of having more than one field of specialization; Not something treated as a given.)  

7.Lab Pet- (Specifically referring to when a scientist keeps lab rats as pets, complete with proper name and affection, even when the experiment in question is finished. Not referring to a family pet forced to act as a lab animal.)

8.Gratuitous Laboratory Flasks- (Namely in the background or on shelves for ambience.)

9.Technicolor Toxin/Sickly Green Glow/Technicolor Science- (If acknowledged or used in a context that makes some sense.)

10.For Science! -Especially when it comes to learning/proving theories

Also Mundane Utility for when lab equipment is used for domestic things like making tea (health and safety nightmare), Stronger Than They Look when a mad scientist proves to be significantly tougher than what their appearance suggests, Sole Surviving Scientist, or That one where the scientist puts all their musings and theories in a journal that they keep on them at all times and is sometimes encrypted (even though that's not how you keep a Lab Notebook). I hope this suffices.

on a blanket sweep, all of these are great mad science tropes and frankly, are just the whole bases of why a lot of people like the aesthetic. Like yeah, this leaves out the gore and unethical experiments that are also very fun, but this list basically just covers all the more light-hearted aspects of the mad scientist's ideal

But you asked for ratings, and I am not one to disappoint! Under the cut because this post is already rather long

Shiny glasses- 10/10 if I could have anime shiny glasses so no one could ever see my eyes that would be literally ideal

evil laugh- 10/10 Im a sucker for a good evil laugh, especially when it shows the character as more unhinged/loosing their compossure rather than just being outright evil. A morally good mad scientist cackling maniacally when their weird experiment works is just as fulfilling as an evil one

Einstein hair- 10/10 again I am always for a big mess of frizzy hair, even unrelated to mad scientists (these ratings are going to be a little repetitive)

Lab Coat- 10000/10 lab coats hold all the gender, especially with blood stains (god I need to get myself a lab coat)

Parental scientist- 6/10, it has to be done well and even aside from that I'm not all too interested in parental relationships

Omnidisciplinary Scientist- 9/10 very fun! whats the point in being a mad scientist if you can't combine biology and engineering to create a living computer with a beating heart, then what's the point?

Lab Pet- 10/10 you know im a sucker for lab rats<3<3<3<3

Gratuitous Laboratory Flasks- 10/10 I personally have a collection of 3 so far and it just keeps expanding without my knowledge

Technicolor Toxin/Sickly Green Glow/Technicolor Science-1000000/10 WHATS THE POINT IF IT'S NOT HORRIFICALLY NEON AND OVER SATURATED!!

Mundane Utility- 5/10 look all I'm saying is you reap what you sew

Stronger Than They Look- 7/10 if it's not from some kind of self-experimentation I don't want it

Sole Surviving Scientist- 4/10 I'm indifferent to it, I prefer the ideal of a scientist working alone after being completely ostracized from the scientific community at large. The journal thing is fun, nice show of paranoia

#asks #sciencecore #mad science

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin Scar Reveal Part 2(final part)

Merlin tries to pretend nothing happened, Arthur says “that’s stupid.”

Part 1

Merlin’s nightmares last for the rest of the afternoon and extend well into the night. 

The heat certainly doesn’t help, and it takes all of Gaius’ effort to keep his temperature low enough to not boil him from the inside out, but he manages with help from the knights. Mordred and Lancelot refuse to leave the servant’s side of course, but the others loiter in the corridor the entire time, and take turns sprinting to the cold store and kitchens for ice water and cloths.

It was difficult to stand there waiting, being given scraps of information on Merlin’s condition, especially when most of the scraps consist of something along the lines of “Hopefully he’ll snap out of it by the morning.”, which was certainly not helped when the occasional whimper floated out to them from the young servant’s room.

After a few hours, Leon was the one to draw the short straw to go and talk to Arthur. Whilst all of them were mildly miffed that Arthur had pushed Merlin so far, they knew that ultimately, it was all of their faults. All of them had pushed him, and none of them had protected him from being injured in the first place. None of them knew how much he had suffered, was still suffering. Considering Arthur’s... extra feelings for his servant, it was no wonder he’d reacted even worse than the others.

The First Knight agrees to go, knowing he had the best chance of talking some sense into The King, though he refuses to leave until he sees each of the others settle in their beds; it had been a long day, and would likely be an even longer day tomorrow. They all need as much sleep as they can get.

Arthur doesn’t answer when Leon knocks on his door, but the knight lets himself in after a few moment regardless, doing so quietly so as not to startle the man if he was asleep or, more likely, deep in thought.

The King was sat at his desk, chin resting on his hands, and Leon has to stamp down the surge of protective adrenaline in his lungs when he sees the dry tear tracks on the younger man’s face. He doesn’t notice Leon’s presence, not even when he very deliberately clears his throat, so the knight walks over to him slowly, rapping his knuckles harshly on the desk. That finally catches Arthur’s attention, and he looks up with a start, hands reaching for the sword that Leon knows he has hidden under the desk.

The King lets out a deep breath and relaxes back in his seat when he sees that it’s just Leon, hastily wiping his eyes before clearing his throat and looking up with a fake confidence:

“Sir Leon, what can I do for you?”

Leon just raises an eyebrow, but when Arthur holds strong and doesn’t react he lets out a deep sigh and collapses into the seat on the other side of the desk:

“Come on, Arthur. We need to talk about this.”

Arthur gulps, trying to keep his unaffected façade up, but failing and dropping it after only a few moments; something about the soft, overly concerned look Leon was giving him made him want to wrap himself in blankets and sob himself to sleep. He frowns and just about manages to keep the tears in:

“Why wouldn’t he tell me? If not about the physical scars, then about all the times he’s been hurt. Does he not think I would’ve given him time to recover? Or, God forbid, helped him?”

Leon purses his lips slightly in thought, still having to make a concerted effort not to gather The King up in a tight hug as he considers his questions:

“I don’t think it’s about you, Arthur. Merlin is... a private person by nature, and he doesn’t like worrying people. You heard Mordred, he and Lance found out by accident, and even then Merlin tried to keep them away from it as long as possible.”

Arthur stands, the guilt and sadness in his gut now frothing with anger as well. He paces around to the centre of the room and Leon stands to watch him carefully:

“He can say it’s not about me as much as he wants, but I’m The King, Leon,-”

He whirls on the knight, and Leon clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to raise a mocking eyebrow. He knew to expect anger at some point, but that doesn’t mean Arthur was entitled to it:

“-I have a right to know what’s going on in my Kingdom. I should’ve been informed of Nimueh and Morgause’s deaths, I should’ve been informed that Cenred was torturing people for information. How many other countless adventures has Merlin had that have put himself, Me, the Kingdom in danger, simply because he didn’t want people to know much about him?? None of that was his call to make.”

Leon does raise an eyebrow at that, but Arthur was too busy furiously pacing to feel scolded quite yet. The older man crosses his arms and huffs slightly, waiting for The King to calm before responding:

“Be that as it may, that’s not why you’re angry. You can lie to yourself, Arthur, but you can’t lie to me, and you certainly shouldn’t lie to Merlin. If you go to him pretending that you’re angry because he put the Kingdom at risk, and not because you’re heartbroken at him having suffered so much, then he’ll never forgive you. And when you realise that, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Arthur looks to Leon sharply, but the anger drains from his face within seconds and his whole body sags slightly, the exhaustion of the day having caught up to him. A glance to the now dark window tells him that it’s well into the evening, but he can’t find it in himself to be annoyed at the unfinished paperwork on his desk or the hunger in his stomach from not having eaten since before noon, not when he knows Merlin is being tortured by nightmares and injuries that have long since healed. Injuries that he should never have had in the first place. Leon waits patiently for Arthur to respond:

“I don’t want him to be in pain. I just want to help him.”

His cracking admission has Leon give up on holding himself back, and he strides towards The King to pull him into a tight embrace. Arthur tenses at first, but quickly falls into the older man’s affection, accepting a hug for the first time since he was a child. Leon responds softly, aware that he only had a short time before Arthur pulled away and put his walls back up:

“Merlin’s already in pain, Arthur, but that doesn’t mean we can’t now help him.-”

He feels Arthur nod into his shoulder and squeezes the man tighter for a moment before pulling back, keeping a tight grip on The King’s shoulders:

“Come on, you need to get some sleep.”

Arthur’s tired, longing gaze moves to the paperwork spread haphazardly over his desk, and Leon shakes his head, tugging Arthur’s shoulders so he looks back at him:

“No, work isn’t an option, your mind is not in any sort of state to be productive right now. You’re exhausted, Arthur, a few hours of sleep will do you some good; I hate to say it but The Kingdom won’t stop needing attention whilst we... sort through this, and you’ll need the energy tomorrow.”

Arthur shakes his head, stepping back and rubbing his eyes tiredly as he takes a deep breath and straightens his back. Leon steps back as well, re-introducing the respectful distance that should be between a King and his Knight, waiting for Arthur’s no doubt stoic response:

“The councilmen will survive without me for a day or two, if not then that really should be something I’m made aware of so I can get to replacing them. Merlin and I need to...-”

He cuts himself off and clears his throat:

“-has there been any news? Any change?”

Leon shakes his head, but catches Arthur’s wrist when he begins walking towards the door:

“Arthur. I just about managed to convince everyone else to get some sleep and you need it more than them.-”

Arthur looks back indignantly, failing to portray his Kingly Anger in his exhaustion and looking more like a scolded child:

“-You know I’m right. Get some sleep, Gaius will inform you if anything changes.”

For a moment, it looks like Arthur wants to argue, but he quickly lets out a deep, bone weary sigh, nodding before moving sluggishly towards his bed. Leon nods approvingly, muttering a soft “Goodnight, My Lord” and smiling slightly at Arthur’s hummed response before quietly exiting the chambers.

~

Arthur can convince himself, for a few blissful seconds, that it was all a bad dream when he wakes up the next morning.

His curtains are thrown wide open; the sunlight streams in and forces The young King to groan and roll over, attempting to shield his eyes from the brightness. Merlin’s cheery voice echoes throughout the various chambers:

“Come on, Sire, up and at ‘em!”

Arthur just grumbles a slurred “Fuck off.” before his brain wakes up and he throws himself from the bed, thankfully wearing sleep clothes but only just managing to catch himself on the bedside table before he falls over:

“Merlin!! What the hell are you- are you ok?! Did Gaius say you could get up?!”

Merlin looks back at him with the same disapproving, mocking glare he usually uses in the morning; Arthur is taken aback at the darkness in his eyes. He can’t quite decide if it made it’s first appearance this morning, or if it had always been there and he just hadn’t noticed. He doesn’t know which idea he hates more:

“I’m fine, Arthur, no need to worry about me. And for your information, I’m a fully trained physician, I don’t need Gaius telling me what I can and can’t do.-”

He rolls his eyes and turns to The King’s desk with a huff, gesturing at the mess:

“-It’s flattering that you rely on me so much Arthur, but really, this is ridiculous.”

Arthur is finally broken out of his shocked stupor, shaking his head disbelievingly and taking a few short steps towards his manservant. He goes to yell but quickly backtracks, snapping his mouth shut and taking a deep breath before trying again, softly this time:

“Merlin... we have to talk about yesterday.”

Merlin’s reaction is immediate and harsh. The quill that he had picked up from Arthur’s desk snaps in his sudden tight grip and the tension in his shoulders is painful looking. He freezes for just a moment before forcing himself to relax, casually throwing the broken quill into a waste basket before continuing to organise the desk, refusing to look up at The King:

“No, we really don’t. I’m fine, My Lord.”

The lack of sarcasm or sass in Arthur’s title worries The King greatly, but the way Merlin regains more and more of the tension in his shoulders the closer Arthur walks to him is even more worrying:

“Merlin... look at me.-”

The servant gulps, biting his lip at he stares at the desk for a few more moments before forcing himself to look up. He recoils slightly at the tears in Arthur’s eyes, but doesn’t allow himself to look away. Arthur opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the door to his chambers opening with a bang as Mordred and Lancelot rush in. They’re both red-faced and panting, speaking at the same time:

“I swear to the Gods if he snuck out of bed to work, I’ll-”

“I apologise My Lord, I don’t suppose you’ve seen-”

They both freeze as they see Merlin stood behind Arthur’s desk, paperwork crumpled in his tight grip and face fallen into a annoyed frown. Arthur throws his hands up, frustrated as he paces and mumbles:

"Just... come in why don’t you. No, don’t worry about knocking just run on in like you own the damn place.”

Lancelot spares him a quick glance but locks the door behind him and crosses his arms like an angry mother as he looks to the irate servant:

“Merlin, we’ve talked about this, you’re meant to take the morning off after a bad night, Gaius says-”

Merlin just rolls his eyes and turns away, interrupting Lancelot’s scolding as he continues to tidy around the room, his annoyance evident in his harsh tone and hurried movements:

“I’m a physician too, and I say I’m fine. I would like to just... get on with things, please.”

Arthur has to stop himself from recoiling at the way Lance and Mordred’s faces fall, the pain and grief sadder than anything he’s ever seen in their expressions before. He takes a moment to think before giving the two of them a pointed look and quietly asking:

“Can you give us a minute?”

Lancelot looks doubtful, but willing. Mordred plants his feet and crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious he has no intention of leaving Merlin’s side; as much as Arthur finds that admirable on a personal level, as King it’s unacceptable. He’s normally not a fan of pulling rank among friends, but maybe that’s because he normally doesn’t need to. Perhaps this whole mess was his fault, Mordred obviously felt so, but Arthur could hardly fix it with them glaring over his shoulder. He raises himself to his full height, a good few inches above Mordred, and uses the tone of voice he normally reserves for particularly difficult councilmen:

“You forget whose presence you are in, Sir Mordred, you’d do well to remember again. You are both dismissed.”

Mordred’s eyes go wide and he takes in a sharp breath, but after a quick glance to Merlin’s turned back he dutifully bows and walks from the room stiffly. Lancelot’s postures straightens as well, and he follows Mordred after a confident:

“We’ll be in Gaius’ chambers should you require anything, My Lord.”

Merlin was oblivious to the conversation, though Arthur reckons he was deliberately ignoring it as opposed to being actually unaware, especially with the way the servant’s shoulders relax when the door shuts behind the second knight.

Arthur sighs as Merlin continues to putter around the room, refusing to look him in the eye; he leans against the edge of the desk and crosses his arms:

“Merlin,-”

His voice is soft, but the servant still doesn’t look at him, giving a non-committal hum as he clears out the hearth with shaking hands:

“-come here, please.”

Merlin freezes for just a moment, and if the problem wasn’t so glaringly the context of the situation, Arthur may have been able to fool himself into believing that Merlin was just shocked he said please. The younger man stands slowly, turning to walk towards Arthur with his gaze stuck to the floor. He stops with about five feet of space between them and Arthur sighs again, closing the gap until only a few inches separates them. The King ignores the tears gathering in both of their eyes as he lifts a hesitating hand, dropping it softly on Merlin’s shoulder only when the servant doesn’t flinch away:

“Merlin, I... you mean a great deal to me, and I know I don’t say that often enough, or at all, really. You... look after me, keep me alive and unhurt, evidently more than I had originally thought. You make me a good King, and a better man.-”

Merlin looks up at him sharply and Arthur can tell that he’s about to argue, so he squeezes his shoulder and quickly hurries on:

“-You’ve been hurt, you’ve suffered in your service to me, and that’s unacceptable but it’s also my fault; I should’ve made it clear that I would protect you from anything. These scars prove your strength, but I understand not wanting to acknowledge them, so I promise I will never ask again. You tell me when you’re ready, and if that’s never, then that’s completely fine.-”

Merlin seems surprised by the promise, and the tears slowly dripping from his wide eyes just make Arthur regret yesterday even more. After a second or two of shock, Merlin visibly relaxes, relieved with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to expect the conversation that he really doesn’t want to have. Arthur gives him a weak smile before continuing:

“-I’m sorry, but I’m also grateful. Thank you, Merlin. But...-”

Merlin re-tenses at the “but” and Arthur squeezes his shoulder again, giving him what he hopes is a reassuring smile:

“-please don’t keep doing this alone. I... I don’t expect you to ask me for help, though I would drop anything in a heartbeat to keep you safe. Even... even if it’s Gwaine, just... I don’t want you disappearing off to save the Kingdom only to never come back again because no one knows where you are.”

Merlin smiles weakly at the disdain in Arthur’s voice when he mentions Gwaine, but quickly frowns again and looks at the floor. He gaze stays lowered when he asks his one word question, his voice quiet and ragged:

“Anything?”

Arthur frowns for a second, confused about what Merlin was asking, but quickly realises, lifting the other man’s chin with his hand, his voice a whisper:

“Merlin, I would give up the Kingdom to rid you of the burden you’ve place upon yourself. I just want you safe and happy and by my side.”

Merlin once again looks like he wants to argue, but a quiet sob falls from his mouth instead and Arthur, damning the consequences and his stupid reputation, pulls the younger man into a tight hug, cradling his head into his shoulder and running a soft hand up and down his back. A few tears of his own slip free but he finds he doesn’t care that much as Merlin shakes in his arms; he presses a barely-there kiss to Merlin’s temple and begins swaying slightly on the spot, wanting more than anything to take away his servant’s pain.

Merlin’s cries slow to a stop after what feels like hours, but Arthur doesn’t let go quite yet, eyeing the unmade bed over Merlin’s shoulder with eagerness, knowing that neither he nor Merlin had slept well last night. He feels Merlin stifle yawn against his shoulder and that just strengthens his resolve; he squeezes the younger man to get his attention and then speaks quietly:

“Reckon the council can survive without me later?”

Merlin clears his throat and responds, but still doesn’t let go:

“Doubtful, but Leon and Morgana could probably whip them into shape. Why?”

Arthur nods and pulls back, frowning at the slight panic in Merlin’s eyes when he steps away but doesn’t mention it, letting his hand slide down from the servant’s shoulder to grip his hand. Merlin visibly relaxes, but still looks confused as Arthur tugs him towards the bed gently; he allows himself to be pushed to sit on the edge and looks up at Arthur questioningly. The blond stops himself from grinning widely at the trust in his expression, instead turning away to shut the curtains and lock the door as he says:

“Shoes and belt off, I fancy a nap, how about you?”

He was expecting an argument, so he's surprised when he turns back to the bed to see Merlin softly smiling as he sets his shoes and belt on the bedside table neatly. They both climb under the covers wordlessly, and Merlin doesn’t hesitate to curl into Arthur’s side when he holds his arms out to him. 

The King holds his servant close, tucking his head against his chest and burying his chin in his soft hair, his arms wound around Merlin tightly. Merlin closes his eyes without issue, finding himself unafraid of the darkness or the nightmares or the firm touch against his back for the first time since his collection of scars began.

The warrior sleeps, plagued by nothing but pleasant dreams and the warmth of a protection he knows he can trust.

~

THE END!!

That took me FOREVER to write, writer’s block really does suck, but I’m glad I finally got it finished. I feel like it’s a little underwhelming, but I hope y‘all like it :)

@1stbonesfan asked to be tagged! <3

#merthur #merthur fluff #bbc merlin #merlin #good mordred #sir leon #leon #protective lancelot #protective leon #protective mordred #mordred #sir mordred #lancelot #sir lancelot #gwaine #sir gwaine #percival #sir percival #tw ptsd #tw nightmares #ptsd #nightmares #haooy ending #angst with a happy ending #elyan #sir elyan #gaius #morgana #good morgana #king arthur

[thenextchapter22]

Stuffies

PART 2! Sleeping in the Devildom!

Description: Your first night was an easy sleep, but your second not so much...

or….adventures and cute stories with a reader/MC who carries stuffed animals around all over Devildom.

Pairing(s): NONE!

Word Count: 1,615

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Author’s Notes:  Okay so I was not expecting so many likes for this, but thank you very much to all those reading! :3 I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Part One

_+_

Sleeping in your room while several demons slept in the same hallway was actually pretty easy the first night. You had passed out in the shockingly comfortable bed after dinner with the brothers (and wow was that a crazy time, you lived alone so you always ate alone and the banter was fun to watch, but the food was weird too) and snuggled close with your Panda stuffed animal Po, rubbing your cheek and nose in the ultra-soft plush tummy of the black and white bear that was about the size of a pillow. You even woke up with drool on her.

The first morning before school you had an eventful time meeting angels. Simeon was so pretty and kind, and Luke was hilarious with his huffing and puffing, but super energetic.

They didn’t seem to mind your stuffed animals, either, which was great. You said you stopped caring what people thought, but these were… immortal beings… so it was a little bit different than normal ‘people’.

_+_

Meeting the Angels

It was the morning of your first day at RAD and the room was full of demons, waiting for the new arrivals. You sat on the sofa between Belphie, who was falling asleep into his pillow, and Asmo, who was looking at himself in the mirror and fixing his eyeliner. Why, you weren’t sure. He looked gorgeous. You wore very little on your face, only a bit of liner and Chap Stick that was cherry flavored.

You held one of your oldest stuffed animals to your chest, trying to comfort yourself as best as you could. Meeting the Demons first was so shocking you didn’t realize how much it would have helped to have a soft or squishy friend in your arm until now.

Then, they strolled into the room. Lucifer stood to greet them, nodding his hellos, while you stared in awe. They gave off an aura that was so beautiful. Not a visible one, but it was like your soul was brighter, and your eyes were more open.

There were two of them, one was taller with dark hair, and the other shorter with blonde hair. Both wore white outfits, but had no wings which was sad. But you had only seen a few demonic forms so far—Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, his butler, and Lucifer, when you first came yesterday—so it wasn’t that surprising they would look human. It was probably easier to maneuver in hallways without huge wings or appendages like tails.

“And this is our newest human student.”

Oh, you were being introduced. You stood up and nodded your head, smiling a little shakily at them as Lucifer gestured to you. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

Simeon, the angel who seemed to know Lucifer after watching how they interacted, gave you a handshake that was elegant in the way he held your own hand like you were a princess or something. “A pleasure to meet you as well.”

The smaller one, named Luke, glanced up at you with a wide grin and said something of the same, but didn’t shake your hand. “You’re so pretty! And—oh, what is that? Is that a dog? You brought a dog to the Devildom?! Simeon, I want to bring a pet, pleeease?” He turned his eyes to the taller angel and begged.

Simeon chuckled. He pat Luke’s little head and the blonde haired angel huffed. “Celestial Pets would not survive here unfortunately. And I don’t think it’s a real dog, Luke.”

You shook your head. “Nope, it’s my stuffed animal. His name’s Fido. I know, super original, but I’ve had him since I was a kid.” You held him out for them to see. He was about 10 inches and was squeezable, and you felt he was perfect to take on your first day at RAD.

Simeon smiled kindly. “He’s lovely. Do you have others?”

Mammon spoke up from his place behind you on a separate piece of furniture. “Oh yea, loooads of ‘em. The entire bedroom is full, it’s insane.”

There was a smack, then a moan from the Greed Demon. “Shut up, Mammon, you insensitive prick,” Satan spoke up. “We’ve all got our collections.”

You were surprised Satan defended you but also happy about it. Knowing Mammon from the breakdown you had yesterday, he probably didn’t mean it to be insensitive, he just spoke before thinking.

“Well, then, I look forward to seeing more of your collection.”

Luke agreed. “Oh, me too! Do you have any with wings? Like a dove, or a peacock, or what about a flamingo!?”

And you all chatted for a bit, and you felt pretty excited for your first day. You were told you were going to meet one more person at RAD, and it had you giddy. Would they be just as kind? You hoped…

_+_

So yes, the first night was good, but after your first day at RAD—and that was a whole other story on craziness that included being overloaded with information on demon history and new math you would probably be terrible at, and also potions was a scary subject because you immediately thought of Harry Potter, and not to mention the many, many demons looking at you and probably wanting to either eat you or kill you—you just could not shut your eyes the second night.

It was past 11pm, the second day of school was tomorrow, and you had to get a good night’s sleep. It was obvious Lucifer demanded good grades from everyone. Sleep was an important part of that.

Maybe an almost midnight snack would help?

So you got up, put on a sweater over your long sleeved pajamas because it was pretty cold here at night, put your fuzzy pink slippers on, tucked Po under your arm, and went down the hallway as quiet as a mouse. You had a surprisingly good memory of places, and mazes were easy for you, and seeing as this house was a maze you found the kitchen quick.

You poured yourself a glass of milk—it looked like milk, and smelled like it, so you prayed it was milk—and sat on the barstool drinking it. Warm milk would be better, or tea, but you didn’t want to open cupboards and have anything bang or start the oven or stove, it looked way different from the ones at home.

There was a flickering of light in the corner of your eyes. You followed it to a room with books stacked high along the walls, and a couch and chairs around a fire going all by itself with brick towering above. Magic, perhaps, kept it burning.

The couch facing it directly was cozy looking so you sat on it, and sipped your milk staring into the hearth. Fire danced in your eyes and it hypnotized you. The warmth was great, and cascaded over your body like you were sunbathing. You liked the sun but heat without light was better, and this was perfect.

You found your eyes shutting and quickly placed Po beneath your head and yawned. Then you drifted into dreamland for a while, the heartbeat of the fire lulling you.

A soft touch on your body woke you up from slumber. The fire was blocked by a body, and your eyes opened and you glanced up to see Belphegor with his own black and white companion, his pillow, and noticed a blanket thrown over your body.

“The fire goes out at 4am, so you’ll get cold,” he said monotonously, then went to the next couch over and copied your position of laying on your side cuddled to your panda stuffie but him with his pillow instead, and you watched as he transformed in the blink of an eye. He was like a cow-hybrid, and had the tail just like one. He also had curled up horns, and you remember seeing those on other transformed demons. Was that a trait they all had?

His eyes glowed purple when he looked at you, mesmerizing like the fire but in a different sense. “Sleep, it’s late,” he said, curling his tail over himself like a small blanket.

And you did sleep, sort of instantly, too, the Sloth Demon following suit. It was probably one of the best nights of sleep you had in a long time.

_+_

“Aahhh~~ So cuuuteee!!”

The sound of photos being taken from a phone, and the squealing, woke you up. It felt too early, and you groaned, pressing your entire face into Po. “Uhhh, noo mom, please turn off the lights,” you begged.

A soft coo, then a poke to your cheek. “Aw, sweetie, it’s time to get up, although I hate to move you looking so darn adorable.”

You blinked away sleep and groaned, rolling your head back to see Asmodeus standing over you, dressed for the day in his uniform, and his D.D.D in hand, and still snapping pictures of you with it.

You covered your face with one hand. “No, stop,” you sleepily pleaded. “Too early, ‘m ugly.”

He shushed you and tapped your hand until it moved, and giggled when you cried as he took another picture. “You’re second to me in beauty, darling, don’t say such things! You and your cute little stuffed Panda bear, this is Devilgram worthy~”

There was a soft chuckle, and you shot your head over to see Belphie laughing at your face. “Beware, Asmo will post that almost instantly.”

“Already done!” the Lust avatar declared. “You’re famous, my dear~” he winked.

“You guys are so mean,” you pouted, shoving your face into Po. But little did they know, you were smiling the entire time.

#obey me fanficiton #shall we date obey me fanficiton #reader #reader fanficiton #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #my fics #obey me #ao3 link #swd om

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon back again. I had a sort of writers block for the last like 2 days which made it really hard to do some questions, but I got em done finally. Sorry about the wait. This one is split between the numbered questions, and next ask is the other questions you asked!

I think I accidentally skipped a question in the last one. I honestly don't completely remember but in case I did skip it by mistake, the groups first travel out of the city's limits and even further beyond in a carriage. When they reach the end of how far the driver is willing to go they then get out and start walking. With Jackie screaming about how their finally going on a adventure. 

1: It thankfully doesn't get to to bad before the others notice. And he immediately told them about Dream, wanting to be very clear with what happened and what they where getting themselves into. But they accepted him anyway and helped him. 

2: Isaac is the leader cause Cletus is too much of a wildcard and too impulsive to lead safely, Charles is too shy to lead, and while Benjamin is perfect for leading he doesnt really like leading and is more of a follower than a leader. But Isaac can joke around and gets along with everyone but also be able to take things seriously and know when something needs to be handled.

5: They do not, they last for a few minutes and unless its a healing or regeneration potion (in which it can take a few days for it to fully go away) they have no long lasting affects. They do know of eachothers past to an extent, they know enough to avoid triggers and enough to know what not to do when around eachother. They know through telling eachother, and they feel awful Grievous and Jackie had to deal with that, but leave it in the past and focus on making their current life better. 

6: Yes and no, while Jackie did mean to throw it at Ran, he ment for it to just hit nearby him, not directly hit him. It was ment to be more of a scare/intimidation tactic than anything else honestly. Grievous's luck is for basically everything, he has won the lottery twice before actually but only those 2 times, he's correctly guessed how many items are in a container more than a few times as well. 

7: I use the height charts and they help mostly for comparison, problem is I have trouble applying it to real world stuff and because of that I still have trouble knowing if something or someone is to tall or short. Jackie can get very mean, like he can make fun of someone who just lost a loved one or experienced a traumatic event at the worst. But he usually doesn't get nearly that mean, most he does normally is making fun of how someone looks or how they do certain things. The others comfort him the best they can when he gets sad, and when he gets mean they either encourage it (Grievous), or discourage it and stop him (Watson. Ran is between either encouraging or discouraging it).

8: He was! He spent most of his life adventuring actually! He misses it somedays now since he lives in Subbin, but he believes giving up his adventuring life for a family and friends who needed him is a more than far trade and would happily pick his family over adventuring again. For around 4 years after Ran left Mizu (including the day he left), Ran traveled everywhere, and learned how to survive himself and taught himself different things, like sewing. Ran has made new socks, fixed clothes, and made blankets for everyone at least once. Watson also designs bows and arrows for show, for top functionality, and for just simple (training) gifts to the others. Ran (and Watson) has visited the nether, though Ran tended to stay in it longer than Watson cause he could withstand the temperatures better. And while digging a new tunnel across the nether he ran into ancient debris, which he then messed with until he figured out to mix it with gold and coat his sword in it. He tried to find more ancient debris but sadly hasn't found any, leaving his sword permanently damaged and at risk of breaking. Jackie isn't good at all at painting, its more of a hobby he's trying out. They try to camp out there at least once a week, where Grievous will sometimes build a pillowfort and either force everyone inside or play a game of capture the fort with them. Sometimes Ran will also read during the pillowfort nights, but not to often. Jackie wants to vist a Snow, Savanna, Jungle,  Tagia, and if possible, a Ice Spike biome. He also wants to vist the nether but he'll have to fight Ran on that. Ran and Jackie's secondary titles are in Javanese!

9: Ran just kinda went "Hey Jackie, stand still for a second." "Ok?" And then he just picked him up and threw up. 

10: When he's first given dinner after already eaten lunch, he just kinda stares at the food. Then asks if they meant to give him food, and when the others say yes, he asks why because he thought people only ate once every few days. His answer shocked the others and they ask him to explain, and he explains futher that he was only allowed to eat and drink once every 3 days. Their horrified by this answer but explain to him how theres 3 meals a day and he can drink whenever, he doesn't believe them at first but eventually accepts it. 

11: When the fishermen first come to Ranbob about their worry, he expresses the same worry as them. But says that it's unlikely Ran will hurt the fishermen specifically, because Rans haunting are already friends with them, and Ran wouldnt risk breaking the friendship unless he deemed it necessary for their safety. 

12: Ranbob is sad that Ran goes to such lengths to avoid him and keep people away from him, but he has resigned himself to it. As he knew that if Ran was alive it was greatly unlikely that he would trust him and knew he would be avoided. Which is actually particularly why he believes Ran will never trust him again and why he views Ran as a kind of lost family member. One he'll never get back no matter what he does.

13: Their first stop is a nearby flower biome, and after that Watson has planned to lead them to a waterfall he found with a shattered Savanna somewhat close to it. They plan to travel for a minimum of 6 months, they can actually travel for as long as they want to, but Prokius made them agree that they must be back before the next General Pit Battles (which happens once every 5 years). 

14: He would 100% run himself into the ground until he's barely alive while searching for them. Benjamin compares Ranbob wanting to go back to Dream, to an abused person wanting to go back to their abusive lover. They believe they've changed and that they truly do love them and want the best for them, but in reality that's not it at all and others have to help them see thats not true and help them save themselves. So it doesn't surprise Benjamin or Isaac that much (it surprises Charles and Cletus though), and after its explained to them, their all more than willing to help Ranbob get over Dream and help him be himself again.

15: Oh definitely. Once they hear the Green-Eyed Enderman is back from hiding they all set out again, and after the group gets attacked and once word spreads that its in a group and there's another enderman with them, they all get targeted. With the Gladiators and Fishermen being targeted as bait or hostages to try to trick the enderman into following a trap. Ran wasnt affected like his brother was. Im talking about trauma and maybe even a bit of PTSD that came from Mizu, caused by Dream. Though both of the brothers have gained different amounts of trauma and PTSD from Dream. I may give the raven to either Watson or Ran, I think its fits both of them really well. I want to have them come across ruins of other Tales but im not sure which ones. Maybe they could find the remains of the Wild West Tale and the Haunted Mansion?

Glad to see you, Brothers Anon, and excited to read!

1: The perfect start to an Adventure. And a funny mental image. Imagining these two groups cramped into carriages is pretty amusing. How ready was everyone to get out by the time they could?

2: The fishermen are really great, and Ranbob is very lucky. I love them.

3: Isaac sounds like he’s a pretty good fit for it then. But nobody’s perfect! What are some flaws of his, leadership-wise?

5: Interesting. What makes Regeneration and Healing last longer? I suppose it’s not relative to the AU, but I am a bit curious. What’s the world’s potions mechanisms, if you don’t mind me asking? And that’s good! They may not know everything, but they know what to avoid, and that’s important. Everyone’s moved forward and are making the best of life, and honestly, that’s pretty cool of them.

6: Welp, Jackie, it seems intimidation tactic failed. However, you have managed to anger Ran, so..there’s that. He won the lottery? Dang. Well, if they ever need money, they can just send him to the nearest casino, I suppose.

7: Aight, so I may have a solution for you there. Whatever height you’re going for, find something in real life that’s just about the same height. Like a tree, or something. Or not, we can always just leave it at short enough to be tossed and tall enough to be the tosser. Jackie sounds like he knows where to hit to make it hurt, honestly. It’s good that they comfort him, though I am curious why they all react as they do to him being mean. Why does Grievous encourage it? And is it more of a depends on the day thing for Ran, or a depends on what was said to Jackie, and what Jackie’s saying thing?

8: Nice! What kind of places did he go? Does he have any particularly interesting knickknacks from that time period? And Ran personally sounds like he knows what he’s doing. Watson’s weapons sound really cool, where did he learn to make them? Is visiting the Nether not a common occurrence these days? Or is it simply that the others never got around to it before? Well, hobbies are always fun to try. Does Jackie keep at it and get better or get bored and try something else? How does Capture the Fort go with these guys, considering they’re gladiators? Why does Jackie want to visit those particular biomes? Is there a reason, or do they just sound cool to him? And why would Ran not want them going to the Nether? Because of the danger?

9: FDXGHJ- He just- tossed him?? No warning?? Oh my gods, I’m dying. How did Jackie react to that? Heck, how did Porkius react to that? I doubt anyone was expecting that display.

10: Oh, no. Now I really want to punch Dream in the face. What the heck, Dream?! He legit asks if they meant to give him food...If one of the fishermen or gladiators doesn’t eventually find a way to punch Dream, I will be forced to travel realities and do it myself. 

11: Kind of sad that Ranbob was equally concerned about it. But hey! He won’t have to be, one day!

12: Poor Ranbob. I hope he’s proven wrong, eventually. Do the fishermen know that he thinks this? If so, how do they feel about it? Or does he kind of just keep those thoughts to himself?

13: Flower biomes are really pretty. What did everyone think about it? Did they bring any flowers with them? So this roadtrip could possibly go on for a few years. Did they leave just after a General Pit Battle, or do they have like, less than five years? Speaking of General, is Jackie still the General in this AU? Does he have extra duties because of it? Or is that not something that happened in this AU?

14: Yikes. Reactions to this? Why does Ranbob believe Dream’s changed, as you put it? Is Dream still able to talk to him, or is it because he just misses being there? So Benjamin and Isaac aren’t all that surprised about it. Do they take the reins in helping out? And how do they all do so? It’s good that they’re helping him though.

15: Well, this sounds like it can’t end well. They try to use the hauntings as bait? Is anyone actually captured? Rescue missions? And alright, that makes a bit more sense. I can see how they’d both be effected differently, and honestly, they’d probably both have very different perspectives of the event, all things considered. Ravens for the win! And it’d be really cool for them to come across the ruins of old Tales buildings. Can you imagine the kind of things they’d find? Diaries, faded photographs, moth-eaten clothes, blood stained floors...Like a walk in the past, but they’ll never know what came to be for the people of that time.

#Brothers AU #dream smp #dream smp au #ranbob #tales from the smp #ran #jackie #watson #grievous #isaac #benjamin #cletus #charles #porkius

[revolant]

I posted 1,520 times in 2021

881 posts created (58%)

639 posts reblogged (42%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.7 posts.

I added 451 tags in 2021

#greys lb - 187 posts

#personal - 74 posts

#st - 48 posts

#yell - 34 posts

#tng - 26 posts

#spn - 19 posts

#art - 17 posts

#lotr - 16 posts

#yeah - 15 posts

#words - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#only if it’s a movie i’ve seen before or when it’s one the people i’m watching with have seen before but when i do you can’t shut me up so

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Independence Day is an unparalleled apocalypse movie for the following reasons

1) the dog survives AND gets a sick running away from an explosion stunt scene

2) the sheer number of Hawaiian and flannel shirts on screen appeal to me personally

32 notes • Posted 2021-07-05 02:30:38 GMT

#4

Sometimes Spock will be like I have to excuse myself from this nonessential social event because it’s time to meditate when really he just needs some alone time. Jim walks in on him “meditating” one night and it’s just Spock under a warm blanket knitting a scarf and listening to the audiobook recording of the latest sequel to his favorite series of steamy romance novels

88 notes • Posted 2021-04-18 21:27:38 GMT

#3

Also episodes that frame picard’s position as captain of THEE starfleet flagship and leader of like potentially the most capable collection of people in the galaxy as like….the equivalent of an office job he works to pay the bills and fund his true passion (space archaeology) are my favorites you just can’t beat em

91 notes • Posted 2021-09-21 19:24:41 GMT

#2

Spock: but if my parents love one another and routinely express that “love” through physical means of “affection” in front of others and their relationship has been largely successful then that indicates that the possibility of one finding similar companionship with a valued associate for whom one shares “feelings” of an intimate nature is not inherently antithetical to the teachings of Surak.

Jim, engagement ring in hand: haha yeah true love DOES exist. Funny you should mention it,

755 notes • Posted 2021-01-20 06:01:14 GMT

#1

Imagine being the English teacher in new moon calling Edward out for not paying attention, probably just trying to stop his two weirdest students from canoodling during the movie and then this guy just starts. Reciting Shakespeare from memory? I would quit my job. That would be too much for me.

876 notes • Posted 2021-07-22 03:47:21 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[purplecatghostposts]

Omg PLEASE write a part 2 for the Pining Gordon snippet you did, if you want! It was sooo cute and so fun to read them banter!!

Hell yes.

Continuation of This

There’s two requests for a part 2 so this is Part Two and THEN there’s gonna be a part thREE.

Unlike most of my shorts/drabbles, I actually came up with a title for this one. It’s called ‘Lights Out’

Edit: Adding a lil ‘Keep Reading’ thing since this got kinda long

——

Gordon’s first mission of ‘Don’t fall in love with the security guard’ failed. Now, his second mission of ‘Don’t flirt with the security guard’ is on the same downhill path.

In Gordon’s defense, it’s been a while, okay?

Before the Resonance Cascade, Gordon’s life was pretty cut and dry. Wake up, take Joshua to kindergarten, double and triple check that his babysitter would pick him up afterwards and if they couldn’t, contact the backup babysitter, and worst comes to worst, contact his ex.

Once he knows Joshua is in good hands, Gordon goes to work, spends most of his day there with the occasional bathroom and lunch break, might catch up with a few coworkers and have to turn down any offers to go out, then head straight home, cook dinner, ask Joshua how his day was, probably draw or watch TV with Joshua, put him to bed, go to sleep, and it starts up all over again.

Rinse and repeat. Being a single dad takes up most of his time, he hasn’t gone on an actual date since Joshua was born and Gordon and his partner decided to split, much less flirted with anyone. Not to mention, nobody’s flirted with him much either.

This isn’t new or unfamiliar territory but... Gordon kinda forgot what it was like to have this feeling in his chest.

Benrey yanks him out of the sight of a turret and when Gordon nearly falls, Benrey catches him just before you hit the ground. Gordon must look as bewildered and flustered as he feels because Benrey can’t hold back a snicker. “What, got two left feet or none at all, Gordon?”

“I’m gay- GREAT, I said I’m great.” Gordon sputtered, quickly standing up straight. Benrey must’ve not heard him because he looks more confused than smug, and Gordon knows he would’ve looked smug if he heard him.

“Whatever you say.” Benrey shrugs, letting it go.

Gordon got off the hook this time but he’s losing it. The latch on Benrey’s helmet broke so Benrey has been wearing his helmet less and less as of late and all Gordon can think of is the fact that he so badly wants to touch his hair.

The idea of asking embarrasses him. How is he supposed to defend himself? Or worse, Benrey is chill enough to where he’d let him. What is Gordon even supposed to do if he says yes? He hasn’t even got that far, every time his mind tries to imagine it, Gordon’s heart palpitates and he has to chill out before Benrey notices.

Assuming he hasn’t already. Benrey’s not an idiot and Gordon’s not a great actor. The inevitability of him putting two and two together is there and it looms over him.

The longer they spend time alone, the longer Gordon can feel himself becoming more and more comfortable with him.

They settle down in a quiet corner of Black Mesa, an office that’s a little worse for wear but it has a door meaning they’ll hear if anyone comes in. The heat must be broken around these parts because Gordon finds himself shivering for once.

A hand reaches over and flicks his nose, because Benrey can never get his attention the normal way, can he? “How are you cold? This... ‘S nothing. How have you even survived this far if this makes you shiver?”

“We’re in New Mexico, Benrey. I’m used to it being hotter.” Gordon shoots back. There’s no bite in their words anymore. With the rest of the Science Team still missing, they’ve fallen into a rhythm. The teasing is still there but... Well, it’s just between friends now.

“You haven’t seen real heat until it’s 170 degrees outside.” Benrey releases a short cackle. Gordon rolls his eyes but the ghost of a smirk betrays him.

“Stop trying to one up me in every conversation with stories about your planet. I get it, shits intense there and you’re like a... Alien god or whatever.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Benrey grins. It falters for a split second when Gordon’s shivering gets a little worse. “Hey uh... Since you’re a loser who can’t control your body temp at will, c’mere. Would be... Would be pretty lame if I just let you die.”

Gordon feels his heart stop, but by some miracle, he inches closer and leans against Benrey. He’s cold, but only for a second. Then he suddenly feels like a heated blanket and Gordon stops thinking. He lets out a breath of relief and without meaning to, drops his entire body weight on Benrey.

Benrey luckily doesn’t budge, nor make much of a fuss. Gordon buries his face into his shoulder. “How..?”

“Huh?”

“You can just... Heat up like that... How are you so lucky? Not fair.” Gordon tells him in a muffled voice. Benrey stifles a laugh.

“I wouldn’t call myself lucky but-” Benrey’s abruptly cut off as his voice turns into a pleasant song. Gordon turns his head and gets a look at pink and golden balls floating in the air. He sits up, staring at them curiously.

When he looks at Benrey again, his face is a deep red. “...As- as I was uh, saying before I was rudely interrupted-”

“What’s gold to pink mean?”

“It’s pink to gold- fuck.” Benrey quickly shut his mouth. It did nothing to sway Gordon’s interest.

“What’s pink to gold mean, Benrey?”

“Look... Do you want the translation or the heat because you’re not gettin’ both. ‘S not fair.”

Gordon groaned and didn’t answer. They both knew what his answer was going to be- he wasn’t going to give up the heat. “...Do you sleep at all or is that another perk of yours too? Don’t think I’ve seen you actually sleep.”

Benrey made a noncommittal noise. “Kinda. It’s less ‘Unconscious’ and more ‘Hitting pause on a video game and taking a snack break’ you feel me?”

Gordon wasn’t entirely sure he understood what that meant for Benrey physically but he nodded anyways. “Think everyone else is okay?”

“Huh? Yeah of course.” Benrey snorted. “Not a single one of ‘em are fully human like you, they’ll be fine.”

“Right.” Gordon’s eyes drooped.

Benrey must’ve noticed because the next words out of his mouth were, “You gonna become Gordon Sleepman?”

“Maybe...” Gordon mumbled, eyes closing and refusing to open again. Benrey laughed but it got further and further away until Gordon slipped into a dreamless slumber.

—

Fighting by Benrey’s side took some of the usual stress away. Gordon knew that Benrey had his back, it became easy to relax a little and focus with him there.

The assassins were tough but with their power combined and a few explosives, it wasn’t hard to drive them away. Gordon had to take a breather afterwards, leaning up against the wall, but there was a smile plastered to his face. They were really doing this- they were going to get out of here alive.

God, Gordon couldn’t wait to see Joshua. He’d get an earful from his ex but he knew they meant well and would only be worried about him. Not to mention, Gordon wanted Benrey to meet Joshua. Something told him that they’d get along and Gordon wanted Benrey to be apart of that life.

“You good?” Benrey was looking over him carefully, eyeing a particularly nasty looking wound. “Lookin’ a little red there... In the face too.”

Gordon shook his head. “Just need a breather. And possibly a first aid kit.”

“I know where one is.” A new voice told them. Benrey and Gordon blinked and turned to the source. Gordon’s jaw dropped and his eyes lit up.

“Bubby! Dude, where- where have you been?”

Bubby seemed to shift in place. Something about him looked off, the look in his eyes, his arms crossed, the halting way he was talking- did he actually swallow before speaking? “Around.” Bubby said simply.

Gordon blinked. “You... You good, dude? You don’t seem yourself.”

“I’m fine, Gordon. Do you want a first aid kit or not?” Bubby snapped at him but his shoulders were tense.

Carefully, Gordon made his way over to him with Benrey on his heels. “That’d be great, thank you, Bubby.” Gordon paused, determining that stress seemed to be the answer and offered Bubby a hug.

Bubby took a step back. Gordon refused to take it personally. The guy looked like he was having a bad day. If he needed space, so be it. Gordon would be here when he was ready.

Benrey’s eyebrows raised at Bubby. “Where’s Coomer ‘n Tommy?” He asked slowly.

“...We got separated.” Bubby turned his back to them, moving forward. “Let’s just go already.”

The lack of expression alarmed Gordon. Did something happen? Why was Bubby acting so... Distant.

“You can tell us anything.” Gordon told Bubby. “We’re a team, no matter what.”

His offer fell on deaf ears.

Bubby stopped in front of what looked like a supply room. At the very end of the room laid a first aid kit, just as Bubby said. Gordon turned to Bubby and gave him a smile. “Hey. Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Bubby’s face dropped and while his mouth opened, no words came out.

Gordon entered the room, with Benrey following behind and Bubby in the back.

The lights went out.

—

The lights going out temporarily surprised Benrey until his night vision kicked in. Not a moment too soon either as soldiers suddenly surrounded Gordon and his stomach dropped.

Benrey was ready to lunge forward but arms wrapped around him and held him back. Benrey struggled until there was a voice in his ear.

“Don’t interfere or you’ll get hurt too.” Bubby hissed.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened. Benrey turned his gaze to Bubby furiously, though Gordon’s cries in pain pierced his heart. “You- you did this?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Bubby’s grip on him was tighter than iron. “You don’t know what they would’ve done!”

“I wouldn’t betray a friend, even if my life was on the line.” Benrey felt his form start to shift, getting less humanoid and more monstrous in his anger.

“It wasn’t my life!” His arms were shaking now. Benrey stopped.

Oh.

“How-” Benrey tried to say but Bubby cut him off.

“It doesn’t matter how.” Fear and fury leaked into his voice. “But I didn’t. Have. A choice.”

Benrey wanted to argue- he would’ve- but something else stopped him. Stopped them both in fact.

There was a soldier with a hunter’s knife and Gordon was screaming.

Bubby’s grip loosened enough for Benrey to break free, but Bubby didn’t seem to care when he did. Instead, his eyes were paralyzed. “I... They never said they were going to... Bastards.”

Benrey felt his form shift and grow before finally he made his attack.

He was too late to save Gordon’s arm but Benrey wrapped him in his own arms and bolted out of there. He looked back, only once, to watch Bubby burst into flames.

Benrey let his instincts guide him- out of Black Mesa, into the sun, and away from the soldiers. Nothing else around them except for a headcrab but Benrey sent one dirty look to it and it ran.

Gordon was bleeding- a lot. Too much- and missing an arm. Benrey could regrow those but Gordon was too human to do the same.

“G- Gordon?” Benrey said carefully. His breath hitched in his throat when his eyes cracked open, squinting. “Hey uh... You’re- you’re not gonna die, are you?”

Gordon paused for a long moment. Then he laughed to himself. “Benrey... Thanks. For getting- getting me out of there.”

“You- you’re good, right? Thinkpan still working? Got- got a lot more blood than this, right?”

Gordon blinked before nodding slightly. “I... Think so? It’s- it’s really hard to think right now. I think I should sleep... Man I- I really need a first aid kit now, huh?”

He laughed again. He kept doing that but Benrey didn’t get what was so funny. “Gordon?”

“You look- you look beautiful, you know that?” Gordon’s one good hand reached up and cupped his face. Benrey didn’t know how to deal with that, his mind was moving too quickly. “Your hair... You should take off your helmet more.”

“You- you don’t know what you’re sayin’...” Benrey stuttered.

“I mean every word.” Gordon stifled a snicker, eyes looking far away.

Benrey shook himself. He didn’t want to go back into Black Mesa but he needed to patch Gordon up before he passed out. Benrey was afraid of what would happen when he passed out. “Keep- keep on chattin’, okay? Stay with me, Gordon.”

Gordon laughed again but this one was softer. “You- you know, I really like it when you say my name. Sounds good when you- when you say it.”

Not actually flirting with you, he’s just delusional. Benrey told himself, keeping his focus as he carefully entered Black Mesa through a pipe. “That’s- that’s cool, Gordon. Uh, what else do you want to talk about?”

Gordon went silent. Benrey panicked. “G- Gordon? C’mon, stay with me, man.”

“What’ssss... What’s Pink to Gold mean?”

Benrey swallowed. Anything to keep him awake, right? “Pink to Gold... Means you’re a sight to behold.”

“Oh. Ohhhhhhh!” Gordon got a stupidly, cute grin on his face. It would’ve caused even more pink and gold sweet voice had Benrey not been stressing like he was. “Benny... Do you loveee me?”

“...I mean, isn’t it obvious?” Benrey thought it was. He was so very certain that Gordon knew. He finally spotted what he was looking for and sprinted over to it, setting Gordon down against the wall and taking it apart. “Stay still- I’m gonna help you, alright?”

Gordon didn’t resist but he did keep talking. “What’s obvious?”

“...I uh, care about you a lot, Gordon?”

Benrey wondered what Xen would say about him if they saw him now. The Great Benrey, running away from home and falling in love with a completely regular human. Except Gordon wasn’t really ordinary- he was... Everything. Funny, kind at heart, protective- a little stiff at times but he loosens up when he can relax. Not to mention, the guy had a great laugh and an even better face.

A face that had such a kind smile on it right now. Benrey wanted to protect that smile- no matter what. Gordon deserved to get out of here safely.

“I- I care about you too, Benny.”

Benrey swallowed. If it weren’t for the fact that Gordon wasn’t looking so hot right now, he might’ve really liked that nickname. Another time- if Gordon ever called him that again, that is.

“I’m gonna wrap this up, okay?” Benrey gestured to where his right arm used to be.

“Okay.” Gordon was still smiling, eyes half lided. “I trust you.”

Those three words went a long ways for Benrey. He shook his head and got to work. As soon as he was done, Gordon promptly passed out, his head against Benrey’s shoulder.

Gordon needed the rest. They’d figure out what came next later. Benrey would take care of him until then.

——

So. I might’ve gone a bit wild with the plot because I couldn’t stop thinking about how differently thing’s could’ve gone with the events in this AU so yEAH!

Hopefully it was good though! Made sure there was some softer moments as well as the darker one. How well I balanced it is up to y’all I suppose!

Thank you for the request! Hopefully Part Three won’t take as long!!

#SB Speaks #SB Writes #To Love A Security Guard AU #Request #Long Post #hlvrai #frenrey #injury #blood #medical m #Was kinda nervous about Part Two bc a lot of people liked Part One and... Expectations and Writer’s Anxiety y’know? #But I think it came out pretty okay #Part Three is gonna be... Interesting #It may or may not take place on Xen ;) #All I’m sayin’ #Don’t wanna spoil too much #dismemberment #If I need to add anything #Tell me!

[border-spam]

Seifa doesn’t invite people into her bedroom.

It’s not that the room holds any specific importance over the rest of her ship though, she’d find it unpleasant to play favorites with bits of herself that way, cause that’s what her ship is after all.

Her. The only part of her that hasn’t changed since she settled with the COV.

Boss handed that trade vessel to her when she was 19, and bar her flesh and bone, it’s been with her longer than anything else in her life.

It’s a focal point for her, a little oasis of the real Seifa in a storm of bullshit and ego. She’s not playing a role behind that hull, not acting under a title or a persona designed to trip and tease competitors, it’s just her in there - surrounded by memories and her own comforts.

Stepping into her home is an immediate and clear look at the woman she actually is, there’s no hiding behind a cleverly built facade anymore. It’s a risk she’s aware of and very protective over. People don’t enter that little rig unless she’s already close enough to them to not need to hide her genuine self, then it’s not a problem anymore. Then it doesn’t matter if they see the crooked workbench she carves glass and wire at, or her plants potted in oil tins, or that banged up gaming console that’s 2 generations old now but still has an amazing library she’s got a playlist to get through, this is her. This is Seifa’s real life.

The bolted repair plates on the inner hull that she’s painted over, that’s her.

The scratches on her refurbed old oak kitchen table, those are her.

The pilot’s seat with the really decent rakk leather cushioning she did some admirable stitch work on to sort out the tears, that’s her.

The decade old Dahl warp drive with the pressure valve on the right that does literally nothing and hasn’t worked since she bought it, but she hasn’t gotten around to fix yet? … That’s her.

Her whole ship is sacred, something she can’t bring herself to sully by naming despite being the kind of person to give 20 nicknames to a maintenance droid. It’s her sanctuary.

Her safety.

Her home.

It’s all she had for so long that she’s filled it with her own insecurities and secrets, coloured its walls in shades of memories too private to share, decorated it with nicknacks that mean nostalgia she’d find it difficult to accurately explain.

Before the COV, she’d near never allowed others inside. A couple of people she’d run jobs with maybe, when it was the logical choice to share a base with for a week or so, but not willingly.

She’s not sure the twins will ever really understand what she gave them by letting them stay, how much of herself she opened up to damage when she let Tyreen try and prepare food in her kitchen, when she told Troy he could consider that side of the crew quarters his.

She figures they’d never be able to understand anyway. They’d grown up sharing everything, toothbrushes to blankets, and they’d not owned things before. They’d not had a refuge like this, so she couldn’t expect them to comprehend the risk she’d taken by letting them inside, or how meaningful a gesture of love it had been to tell them they could consider it home too.

As a Saint, her protectiveness over her ship only increased. It became a kind of risk, a crack in armor she needed to survive here at all. Saint’s don’t live like this, Saint’s live like Xan in garish luxury within the Grand Cathedral, or like Sol in his own personal Skyscraper slicing through Harrier’s horizon.

Saint’s don’t have a coffee machine that needs repairs every month or a couch with 5 different types of fabric upholstering it.

She couldn’t let people in, couldn’t let people see past her title and tattoo, even when the skull Sigil snarled outwards from where it was painted on her airlock doors.

The slow realisation that there were people who cared more about the woman under the scowl than the favors she could do for them was something she couldn’t really have prepared for, and as she little by little opened herself to them, she did the same with her home, and over time, they became part of it themselves.

JK’s cushion pile, the blanket she finds neatly folded on her counter in the mornings? Part of home, they are too now.

Ven’s indent on the couch armrest from where he insists on putting his legs up when he dozes off? Part of her life, he is too now.

The little chargers and adapters Eli asked if he could leave in a drawer just in case his tech needed them while he was over or they were going to have a later night so he wouldn’t have to bring them with him? Part of the ship now, so he is too.

The tiny wall cubby in the crew quarters Troy spent weeks resting in when he was too sick to stand, and that she still sometimes finds God King Calypso curled up in - back facing the doorway with an arm curled protectively around his head on bad nights?

Part of her ship, part of her life, all of em.

Her bedroom though… that’s the line.

She’s not weird about it. She’s not going to grab Eli and drag him out of the cosy warmth of the room when he’s happily looking at the photos framed around it, she doesn’t tell Ven to shutup and mind his own business when he asks where she got the four post bed, doesn’t sneer when JK walks by and gestures at the gently swaying lanterns that rope across the ceiling, she just keeps it to herself.

She doesn’t invite them in, she doesn’t initiate conversation about it, she just closes the door in a subtle gesture of privacy when her friends are in her home and the rest of the ship is filled with laughter, or tears, or frustration.

That room is hers.

That’s her little sarcophagus of the soul, that’s where she lays awake some nights, or sobs on her shower floor. That’s where she sits on the plush down of her duvet and sorts through ancient invoices and photos of people who aren’t around anymore, smirks at old memories she’s not recalled with anyone since.

If she’s getting a good fuck, it’s in someone else’s home, if she’s sharing a space with friends overnight it will be in Troy’s Sanctum, or JK’s office, or Ven and Eli’s apartment.

That room is for her to sit in the last little shreds of herself that she hasn’t given to others, it’s to be alone in, just her thoughts and skin.

Sharing that bed with someone would be handing them her heart.

Asks are open!

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #seifa #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #calypso twins #my writing #my hcs #leech lord #lldrabbles

[redheadedrenagade]

Wicked Game

Chapter 3: White Winter Hymnal

Chapters 1 & 2 can be found here and here.

No warnings. This takes place one month after the second chapter. Hope you enjoy. :)

The town is bustling in a flurry of wintery solstice and chattering teeth. Snow had just started to fall lazily from the sky, blanketing the grass thinly. Charlotte looks out the window at the passersby anxiously, dying to finally be cleared of house arrest by Maria. She loves and appreciates her with her entire heart for keeping her sorry ass alive, and she knows that she wants to prepare something truly special for her this Christmas. Something that she can look at and hear the words “thank you, I love you” every time she sees it. There would be time for that soon enough, because today her plans consisted of something she’d have previously sworn she’d never miss: patrol.

Oh, god, I’m going to drive everyone crazy…

She has so much pent up energy, and far less fear than before her survival against death, (she was kind of a certified badass now, obviously), and all she can think about is having a bow in her hands again, hunting in the forest, eating at the mess hall, spending time with Ellie and Jo-

Nope. No. We’re not going there. 

She brushes the thought off like a snowflake and gently pulls on her coat, making sure Maria sees her being careful with her almost healed arm as she walks into the room.

“Well, you ready to face the outside world yet or what?” Maria smiles warmly at her and walks forward to embrace her in a warm hug.

“I wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for you. You…you really are the best leader,” Charlotte says and pulls back to hold Maria’s shoulders and look her in the eyes, “the best friend anyone could ask for. Now that I’m out of that bed I can get back to convincing you of that.” 

Maria’s blushes and waves her off, but not dismissively. She’d always been relentlessly modest about her leadership in Jackson. “I’m just doing what anyone else would. Now, listen, I know you’re excited to be back in action, but I need you to promise me that you won’t – “

“Maria, I promise I won’t put all your hard work to waste. You literally saved my life. Anything you say from here on out, I’m gonna’ do, no questions asked,” Charlotte assures her with a signature crooked grin, patting Maria’s shoulder.

Maria snorts loudly and walks to grab Charlotte’s bag with her essentials and hands it over to her. 

“You’ve never listened to anyone a day in your life, Char.”

Charlotte can’t hold back a loud laugh that instantly feels so good after such a painful month. “Okay, you have me there. But there are exceptions. Well, one exception,” she replies with a wink.

Maria escorts her out the door, already making dinner plans for this coming weekend after the mandatory optional but highly encouraged Christmas celebration, and Charlotte starts the half mile walk back to her tiny cabin. The cold, brisk air feels like heaven against her face, the crisp feeling of snowfall bringing her immense comfort. Winter had always been her favorite season, even now that it was admittedly much harder to handle since the world went to shit.

It was lunchtime in Jackson, so she didn’t run into anyone on the way, which she was secretly grateful for. As excited as she was to re-enter the world, she needed some time to just be home for a moment. She stops short when she sees a large figure sitting on her porch steps. Cautiously, she walks on and as she gets closer comes to the shocking realization that’s it’s Joel of all people.

She shoves the hand not holding onto one of her backpack straps into her jeans pocket, looking only at the ground until she gets to the porch, where she’s forced to confront him. He’s just as handsome as she remembers. His cheeks are tinged pink from the cold, and his black hair peppered with grays is slightly unkempt from the wind. His hands are clasped together, elbows resting on his knees.

And those eyes. 

How the fuck do you make me feel like this?

She manages to give him a quiet hello, nervously re-adjusting her backpack and letting her eyes fall to the ground.

“Hey. Heard that – Maria told me you were – just thought I’d come say, well, I’m glad you’re doin’ better, kiddo,” he manages to stutter out, and it makes her heart jump a beat at how…nervous? And unsure of himself he sounds.

“Oh! Well, yeah. Um, that’s – thank you. It’s really great to be out of that damn bed. Was going a little koo-koo for Cocoa puffs in there,” she replies, laughing nervously and kicking the ground lightly with the toe of her boot. When she looks up at him again, he has a bemused expression on his face that she can’t help but chuckle at. “What’re you smilin’ about, sir?”

He breathes out through his nose in a laugh and shakes his head a bit, giving her a subtle once-over from head to foot, then back again. Charlotte feels her stomach flutter and her face becomes suspiciously warm for a winter day.

“I forget that other people remember things from back then. Sometimes I even forget I’m not the only one alive that had a life of some kind before it happened,” he replies, his eyes not leaving hers and her eyes not leaving the half-smile on his face that she caused.

“I…well, yeah, I feel like that sometimes, too. It happened to the whole world but it still feels like no one understands, somehow. It’s weird,” she says, tucking a lock of long red hair behind her ear and lingering a moment too long on the past. Her face darkens as her own memories of horror and loss flash across the forefront of her mind before she can push them back.

He clears his throat a bit as if he understands what she’s thinking and pushes against his knees to stand up and walk down the steps to her. She feels her heart pounding annoyingly hard in her ribcage as he approaches. He always had a way of snapping her out of her thoughts.

He’s so tall. And damn, does he look amazing in that sweater. Oh, jesus, get ahold of yourself, woman!

“Listen. I – well, I ain’t never been a man who knows the right things to say, or when to say ‘em. Just wasn’t born gifted with words like you, I guess.” 

She opens her mouth to protest and tell him that she can’t articulate things for shit either, but he holds up a hand telling her he needs to say more. His expression is almost pained as he awkwardly struggles to share what’s on his mind.

“I didn’t act right. That night, when you…when we brought you back. I’ve been kickin’ myself over it and I just wanna’ set the record straight.”

She nods gently and for once, revels in not being the most nervous person between the two of them. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly before continuing.

“It ain’t just because of Ellie. Not just because you bein’ okay is what’s best for her. I’m very…glad, that – Charlotte, when we first saw you, I was sure you were just about gone. I thought we were too late, and I…”

Charlotte is starting to feel bad for him at this point and decides to end his misery. She lets her backpack slide down her arm onto the snowy earth and even as he looks at her with confusion, she leans into his broad chest and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him hard against her. This is her second thank you for that night.

For a moment he doesn’t even budge; just a solid wall of concrete Joel. But he quickly rights himself and lets his strong arms enclose around her, allowing his chin to rest against her shoulder. Her face is nestled into his neck, just like before, when the world was fading into darkness. In the back of her mind, she remembers one thing as she was fading that night, a low voice saying something to her, comforting and calm as a sunset.

Sweetheart.

She blushes fiercely into his sweater and pulls back a bit to smile up at him shyly with her lop-sided grin. Looking directly into his hazel eyes is liking staring into the sun, and she swallows thickly in her nervousness. He, however, seems calmer now, with his big hands now resting lightly at her waist from pulling back from their embrace. Then, he smiles back, and Charlotte feels a burst of warmth bloom inside her belly. She's thankful to have her hands on his shoulders to anchor her.

“I don’t regret any of it. I’d do it all again if I had to,” Charlotte says, her voice soft and sincere as she struggles to maintain eye contact. Her face feels like it's on fire. He chuckles then and takes a step back, and she immediately misses the warm presence of his body against hers.

“I’ll make sure it won’t come to that, darlin’.”

She feels a pang of something in her heart that feels completely foreign and somehow as natural as breathing. The same feeling she felt when he called her sweetheart. 

People who are just friends don’t usually say things like this…do they? 

Before she can think too deeply on it, a youthful voice all but bellows her name. She knows instantly who it is and turns around just in time to have Ellie barreling into her chest, hugging her so hard she might’ve broken a rib, and Charlotte laughs joyously despite the pain.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were out today?! And you went to see Joel first? Like, c’mon, dude, I'm way more important,” she declares with passion, and it makes Charlotte smile even harder and hold her closer yet.

“Wanted to surprise you. Thought we could walk to patrol together in a bit. God, I missed you, girl!” Charlotte exclaims, swaying them side to side and enjoying every second of having the girl in her arms, safe and happy.

“She didn’t come to see me. I, uh, I had something I needed to talk to her about. An’ now I have, so I’ll let you two be. Ellie, careful of her wounds, your bein’ too rough,” says Joel, shaking his head slightly but he grins, nonetheless. Ellie finally parts from Charlotte to narrow her eyes at him suspiciously, a hint of mischief in her expression.

“Yeah, it sure looked like you were doing a lot of talking with all that hugging you two were doing.”

Oh my god, Ellie. If I didn’t love you so much, I’d strangle you!

Much to Charlotte’s surprise, Joel’s smile widens as he opens his arms to Ellie, advancing on her quickly, “Yep, and now it’s your turn, kid. No need to be jealous.”

Ellie shrieks and tries to escape, but he’s too quick as he grabs her around the middle with her back to his chest, and Charlotte can’t help but burst into laughter at the tiny girl kicking her legs in the air as he spins her around. Joel’s rich laughter fills the air amidst Ellie’s slew of curse words, but when he puts her down, her cheeks are tinged pink and she���s got a big, toothy smile on her face.

“Such a jerk!” She fake pouts and punches him lightly in the shoulder.

“That’s my job,” he replies with a wink, and Charlotte can’t help admiring the relationship and love between the two of them. She wonders if she’ll ever have something like that of her own one day.

“Well, I’ll see you ladies later. Have to go help set things up for that damn Christmas party next week,” Joel sighs, rubbing his forehead in an annoyed fashion before turning to leave.

“C’mon, where’s your holiday spirit Joel? There isn’t anything you like about Christmastime?” Charlotte enquires, eyebrows raised in surprise.

How can someone not like Christmas? That’s like not liking puppies…or chocolate…

He looks at Ellie with a soft expression, and then his eyes flicker back to Charlotte’s. She feels an electric current rushing through her veins as his expression subtly changes as he studies her face, and his eyes hold something very different within them than just moments before. 

Joel turns back to look at her and pauses, his expression neutral and unreadable. He then crosses his arms with a wry smile forming on his lips.

“Well, I guess there’s a couple things that ain’t too bad about it.”

Then, as if nothing had transpired at all, he breathes a small laugh out of his nose and takes his leave. Charlotte stands rooted to the spot, feeling like she’s just been wacked against the head with a frying pan. Her heart is still stuttering at the memory of that look in his eyes.

That look he gave me. 

Charlotte huffs out a laugh and shakes her head incredulously before picking up her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. She looks down at Ellie and sees that she’s looking up at her with an eyebrow raised and a slightly smug expression on her face. Charlotte shoves her lightly and can’t help but chuckle as they make their way into her cabin.

Ellie snorts loudly and elbows her in the side, bringing her swiftly back to reality.

“What the hell was that all about?”

“Honestly, Ells? I have no fuckin’ clue.”

#wicked game fic #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams #joel miller #joel miller x oc #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #my posts #wicked game

[mwolf0epsilon]

Two birds, one stone part 2! Warning for gross stuff and you know, zombie typical behaviour.

Summary: It was every man for himself down in hell, and yet Norman still found the time to care for others.

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[[MORE]]

     If there was something Norman had learned from his pops, it was that it really paid off to be a bit of a Swiss army knife when it came to skills.

Between the pseudo-military training, Norman's own uncanny ability to hide in plain sight and stalk around silently, and the multiple things he knew that made him basically self-sufficient, he was a good (if not the best) person to be allied with in this sort of situation.

Which really begged the question of why he was doing this anymore.

     The world had ended. The dead rose out of their graves with a taste for man beef, spread a strange infectious disease that made you switch to the brain-munching side, and then society had collapsed.

It had happened so quick that he and everyone in the studio had been trapped.

New York was no place to survive a zombie apocalypse, and Joey Drew Studies wasn't stable enough to even serve as some sort of safe haven.

Everything fell into place of this new world order in a matter of weeks, and the few that could hole away did their best to survive on their own.

It was every man for himself down in hell, and yet Norman still found the time to care for others.

He'd established trading systems with groups within the studio, and even shared accomodations with whomever was desperate enough to engage socially.

They never stayed. He didn't mind.

Those who ended up as those gruesome things were put down and mourned, but otherwise everything was strictly business.

And then Sammy happened.

     Sammy Lawrence, once head of the music department now the very last to have managed to escape down into the lower floors after the hoard overwhelmed his group, was not the easiest person to get along with.

He complicated things with his ornery disposition and volatile temper, but he was a decent conversationalist when he didn't shove his own foot in his mouth and he had connections with the survivor group down in the Harbour.

He could hold his own well enough in a fight that Norman was sure he had his back, and with help that didn't seem too keen on leaving the projectionist often got a bigger hawl of supplies when they both went scavenging.

It was a mutual agreement. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. And soon enough it was Polk and Lawrence instead of just Norman going on his usual duties.

And that evolved further.

In the lonelier nights, there was more to be done than just share a cot for warmth

Call it desperation, call it basic human needs, they were more than just companions or allies.

They were partners.

No matter how much they bickered, it was almost always in a loving fashion.

Like an old married couple…

Of course, nothing good ever lasted.

Not in the literal end of times.

-

     Norman hummed as he heated up some bacon soup in the stove he'd managed to fashion out of a few parts and scrap. The Bendy clock on the wall read that it was half past eleven, so he knew Sammy must be aching for some grub.

He'd not been doing well. Not since he came back from his last solo run to the Harbour.

Norman knew why, but let the other keep quiet about it. He knew the ex-music director would admit to it soon. Especially with the speed of his degradation.

He'd caught him coughing blood just an hour prior.

Three more and he'd turn. Like the rest of them had, before Norman put them down.

  "Soup's almost done." He looked over at their shared cot, where Sammy was curled up under several ratty blankets.

He was shivering weakly, trying to breathe with lungs that were steadily filling with fluid. The raspy wet sounds painful to the ears.

  "M'not hungry…"

  "Oh, we both know that ain't true." Norman continued to stir the pot. "Might as well gimme a chance don't yous thinks?"

  "Norman…"

  "Sammy I know the symptoms…" he poured some into a bowl. "I'm not mad, just sad yous would rather waste away like this…"

  "D-didnt want to bother… Was s-stupid and…" he coughed up some gunk. Choking slightly on his own blood and whatever else was coming up. "And got b-bit. D-deserve it…"

  "N'aw… Don't go bein' so harsh to yourself. Shit happens." He walked closer and set down the bowl. Sammy's eyes were red and starting to bleed. His stage of infection was progressing quite rapidly. "Eat… Yous going to be famished soon enough, might as well fill you up a bit before it happens."

  "You shou-should put me down." The blond reached for the soup, slurping it up eagerly. Nerve damage, he couldn't feel it burning his mouth or lips.

  "Woulda asked me before if yous really wanted that." Norman stretched lazily.

  "You're right… I uh, call me p-petty but… I wonna t-take Joey down with me." He coughed and spat out a thick glob of indescribably foul-smelling tar colored blood. Gross. "If I'm g-gonna end up like t-the rest of those things… I wonna e-eat the greedy fuck w-who left us to die…"

  "I can respect that. I'll help yous with that." He reached out and entwined their fingers. The blond seemed to appreciate the gesture.

  "You t-think I'll be a-able to get him?"

  "Knowin' you? I'd say yous got a pretty good chance…" he chuckled.

  "Flatterer…" Sammy laid back down and closed his eyes, suppressing another cough and instead letting Norman thread his fingers through his messy hair. "Just don't end up le-letting me bite you… T-this shit's painful..."

  "Noted… Sleep well Sammy." He planted a kiss on his partner's sweaty forehead. "Love you."

  "Lo-love you too…"

-

  "Norman that's disgusting." Susie was slightly appalled, but no less opposed to watching what used to be Sammy Lawrence dig its teeth into a very much dead Joey Drew's neck.

  "Yep." Norman shrugged. Both of them had been bit in an altercation with a hoard up in the Heavenly Toys department, but that hadn't deterred them from reaching their end goal. Joey's office.

Susie was the newest ally he'd acquired, and had been dead set on killing Drew since he'd damned them all.

It was a shame their quest for revenge ultimately doomed them both as well, but hey… Sammy seemed pretty happy to devour his ex-boss as a mindless corpse. It couldn't be that bad.

  "You think we'll turn fast enough to get in on it?" The petite brunette pointed at the feasting zombie. "As the ultimate fuck you to Joey?"

  "Who knows… Took Sammy five hours to turn." He did feel a bit sluggish, so it was definitely taking effect. "Least he hasn't snapped at us in a while. Think we might be startin' to smell like the rest of 'em…"

  "Damn… Oh well, Joey's probably not a five star meal anyway…"

  "Probably not."

The world had ended. The dead rose out of their graves, Sammy was one of them and soon Norman and Susie would be too.

He wondered if his zombified self would remember his fondness for either, or if it would recall any of the skills he'd had.

Probably not.

It was every man for himself down in hell, and yet Norman still found the time to care for such things.

Funny how some things just didn't change.

#Eps Writes: #Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Norman Polk #Sammy Lawrence #Susie Campbell #Zombie AU

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

[checkmate] [2]

Summary: After ten years of fighting and surviving their way through the apocalypse in search of their son, Hugo and Isabel Sulieman finally find Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth and are ready to reunite with Louis.

Notes: I planned on having this posted yesterday, but then I ended up rewriting one of the segments which resulted in the rest of it being reworked so... yay for the writing process. Anyway, as I’ve said before, this is a part of the contest prize story for @bluebutterfly1​. I hope you all enjoy it!

Read on AO3

---

--- 10 Years Later --- 

Today is important. 

It’s crucial. 

Everything is riding on today. 

Today is the day Tennessee proves himself.

And no matter how many times he rubs his hands against the dirty denim of his jeans, his palms remain unbearingly humid despite the chill in the air. They tremble in such a violent way that he can hardly hold his bow. He curls them into fists to control the shaking, mouth murmuring encouraging words meant only for his ears. 

Today marks the first time Tenn will venture outside the walls of the school and hunt all by himself- well, Rosie will be with him since the number one rule is to never actually go alone, but Rosie’s a dog, not another person, so technically, it’s like he’s going alone. Sort of. 

He’s planned for this day for months, nearly a year. Archery and gun lessons, hunting techniques and trapping, and overall, survival- with AJ’s help, Tenn now feels confident that he can go on a hunting trip by himself without any trouble. 

He’s going to be smart and bring home dinner and make everyone proud. 

He will make AJ proud. 

Tenn swallows, though with how dry his mouth is, that only serves to make him more uncomfortable. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and counts to three, for forward then backward. 

One, two, three… three, two, one… one, two, three…

“You’re okay,” he says, stretching out his fingers as he counts. “You can do this.” 

He can do this. AJ believes he can do this, and so does Clementine, and Louis, and Ruby, and everyone else. 

Well, Aasim had his doubts, but Tenn’s learned to not take offense to everything Aasim says.

“You can do this.” 

Tenn grabs the arrows from his desk, secures a knife to his belt right next to the walkie talkie,  and slips on his backpack. All ready to go, Tenn finds himself hesitating in the middle of his dorm room. There are several things that could go wrong, plenty that he could screw up, and like a tidal wave they all crash against the shores of his mind. 

He knows he’s being dumb. It’s not like this is his first time hunting or scavenging. He’s gone with AJ and Aasim several times, and even a couple times with Louis, and nothing bad ever happened.

Unless he counts the time a trap malfunctioned and caught Aasim, but that wasn’t Tenn’s fault, and it was funny to see Aasim hanging upside down like that. No one got hurt, aside from Aasim’s pride. 

“You can do this.” 

Tenn leaves the comfort of his dorm room and ventures outside. The morning air is sweet, chilly, even. Frozen dew still sticks to the grass and covers the tables. When Tenn lets out a puff of air, it’s visible in a thick fog around him. Tenn swings his back around, unzipping and digging around for the hat Ruby gave him. 

It won’t be like this later. They’re in the weird part of spring where it’s too cold in the morning, but come noon, the sun will heat the earth and melt all the frost. 

Tenn looks forward to seeing the sun today. 

Omar’s moving about, gathering chunks of wood to split. He waves over at Tenn but makes no move for conversation, instead picking up his ax. Tenn doesn’t mind, so he waves back and allows Omar to go about his business. 

Louis is up on watch, leaning against the edge with a blanket wrapped around him. It’s odd seeing him up there. Usually, he talks his way out of the morning watch, opting for night shifts with Clementine. 

His hands begin to tremble again, so Tenn tells himself in a low voice, “You can do this.” He repeats it even as he approaches the gates. 

However, just as he’s about to push through, quick clapping from above breaks his concentration.

Louis grins down at him from his spot.

“Hey, Louis,” Tenn greets, voice wavering slightly. He clears his throat and tightens his grip on the strap of his bag. Louis waves to him before holding up his pointer finger. 

Tenn moves around to watch Louis climb down with a huff. He nearly trips over his blanket, seemingly forgetting that he had himself tangled in it while in his hurry to get down. He pulls an exasperated face at the offending blanket, one that makes Tenn smile, which in turn makes Louis smile. 

‘You leaving?’ Louis points to the gate. 

“I’m going hunting today,” Tenn nods, quickly adding, “by myself. Just me.” 

Louis hums, grinning. He reaches for Tenn’s trembling hand and pulls something from his coat pocket, placing it in his palm. 

It’s a granola bar. S’mores, the kind with the tiny marshmallows in it. Tenn’s favorite. 

There’s a sticky note attached reading, ‘In case you get hungry. Be careful and be SAFE.  You’re going to do great, buddy!’ with a goofy smiley face beside it, silly enough to make Tenn’s smile grow. A warmth surges through him, confident and buoyant. 

“Thanks, Louis.” 

Louis tugs the beanie upon Tenn’s head down more snugly over his reddening ears before giving him a thumbs up. The urge to step forward and hug him overwhelms Tenn, but he doesn’t act on it. Sometimes Louis gets weird about stuff like that, and Tenn doesn’t want to make him feel bad after he did something nice for him. 

“You’re out here early,” Tenn says. 

Louis rolls his eyes, giving a sign that takes Tenn a moment to remember it’s meaning. He has a sign for each of them, all unique, but sometimes Tenn gets them confused. His sign isn’t as good as AJ’s or Clem’s, he’s embarrassed to admit, but he can usually pick up on enough to figure out what Louis is saying. If not, Louis always carries a pen and a small notebook to scribble on. 

“Aasim?”

Louis nods, adding, ‘Ruby needs help.’

“That makes sense. Greenhouse?”

‘Yes.’

“Okay, well, I’m going to go now. To hunt, and maybe fish. I don’t know yet,” Tenn says, glancing back over to the gates. “Don’t get too cold, okay?” 

Louis grins, soft and fond. He twists around and whistles, and barely a couple seconds later, Rosie’s trotting over to them, her stubby, excited tail wagging and ears perked. She barks, sitting down beside Louis as he pats her head and scratches her ears. Louis turns back to Tenn, a brow raised.

Tenn smiles, clapping his hands two times, saying, “C’mon, Rosie. We’re going hunting.”

At that, Rosie jumps to her feet and hurries to the gates. Tenn remains where he is, eyeing his companion and the daunting gates with a hesitation he wishes he could knock right out of himself. The wrapper of the granola bar crinkles when he tightens his grip.

‘You’re going to do great, buddy!’ the note reads. 

He can do this. 

Louis pokes Tenn’s forehead with a grin. 

“I know,” Tenn says. 

‘Be safe.’

With bow in hand and a nervously beating heart, Tenn leaves Louis and Castle Violet with a final, reassuring smile and heads through the gates. He’s greeted by the same woods that are always there, though this time they have this delicate frost covering their usually harsh and green features. Everything’s still, silent. The loudest thing echoing through the trees are his footsteps and his heartbeat. 

“You can do this.”

Today is the day Tennessee proves himself.

---

These woods hold more than just walkers and animals.

Thomas discovered that last week when he spotted a couple of kids setting up traps. How they’ve managed to survive this long, he has no idea, but he does know that they gotta have a hideout. There’s no way they’re out here living in these woods. A walker would’ve nabbed ‘em by now. 

There’s gotta be more of ‘em, too. 

He still kicks himself for losing track of the two kids. If he’d been quicker with the walkers that came sneaking up on him, he could’ve followed those kids right to their hideout. 

But maybe not all hope is lost. 

Thomas watches the couple from afar as they mosey around the old, abandoned train station. They’re older, much older than the kids he saw. Usually, he’d ignore ‘em and go about his business, or take care of ‘em if he needed to, but then he overheard ‘em. 

They’re looking for a school, and now, things are making sense. 

This time, Thomas doesn’t let ‘em out of his sight. 

This time, Thomas follows ‘em through the woods and down to the river, by the wreckage of an old, decrepit boat. 

---

“Geoff says no.” 

“Geoff doesn’t get a vote.”

“He’s apart of the group. He gets a vote and he votes no.”

“The turtle doesn’t get a vote because he is, as I’ve stated numerous times before, a turtle.”

“A turtle with thoughts and feelings and the ability to see that this is stupid and a waste of precious time.”

Hugo glances at the turtle and his dark, narrowed eyes. 

Judgemental little shit.  

“Funny how he always seems to side with you.” 

“He knows I’m right,” Isabel smirks, offering Geoff a bite of her stale granola bar.

“When he learns how to hunt for us, or fight off the walkers, or do anything but take up valuable resources, then he can have a vote. Until then, Geoff gets to shut his trap.”

Geoff eagerly gnaws a piece off, a glare still fixated on Hugo as he chews. 

He’d be lying if he said he was happy to see the elderly turtle survive ten years into the apocalypse. Bringing Geoff along has brought them -actually, mostly Hugo- nothing but distress, having to keep the turtle fed, lugging him around in moments of extreme danger. It’s a damn miracle they haven’t left him somewhere, or that he hasn’t died, or that they haven’t eaten him. 

He suggested that once. Hugo’s cooking skills were admittedly lacking, but he’s confident that he could make a mean turtle stew and enjoy every minute of it. 

Isabel nearly took his eye out for that one, so Hugo scrapped the idea.

Even now, he has nightmares about waking up one morning to find Geoff devouring his leg or biting his nose off. Still, Isabel insists that they keep him along for moral support, of all things. 

That, and for Louis. For when they find him. 

Louis…

Ten years. 

It’s been ten years since they saw Louis, since they’ve spoken to him or knew if he was even alive. Once the first week of their escape from the bunker became a month, then six months, and eventually a year, hope for ever seeing their son again had plummeted. 

“Listen to me. I don’t want to ignore this anymore- I can’t keep talking like this! It’s driving me mad and I just- ...what if we make it to the school and it’s… bad?”

“Don’t say that.”

“I need you to face the very real possibility that if we find Ericson-

“When we find Ericson.”

“...Fine, when we find Ericson,  we might find Louis and-”

“Hugo-”

“-and he might not be-”

“I don’t want to hear it-”

“-alive. What if he’s not alive?”

“He is alive! He’s got to be alive! You said it yourself! Those people would keep those kids safe so Louis has to be safe!”

“Unless something happened. He might be one of them and we-”

“That’s enough!”

With the increasing amount of walkers, nasty people going rogue and killing more of the living than the dead, and limited food, water, and clothing resources, Hugo and Isabel Sulieman nearly gave up. 

That wasn’t in the stars for them, though. 

“I don’t want to think about it either, Isabel, but I can’t help it. I can’t keep going like this with this-this blind hope that he’s safe and sound and still waiting for us! What if he’s a walker? Or, what if the school’s abandoned? I need us to be on the same page! The odds of Louis still being alive? They’re slim. They’re so goddamn slim and if we keep going and eventually find the school? I need to know that we can still make it even if he’s not there. Or, if he is there and one of the dead.” 

Hugo and Isabel survived, wandering through empty towns, killing walkers and hunting for their own food, despite Isabel’s protests in the beginning. Never did they think they’d have to skin and cook their own food, and without any spices to flavor the dull meat. 

From New York, to Pennsylvania, to New Jersey, through Delaware and into Maryland, they’ve traveled. Sometimes with others, but rarely. Most groups meant trouble, they learned that one quick after they travelled with a group in the beginning. One of the men got bit and kept it hidden from the rest until it was too late. When more than half of them were dead, a couple turned on them, taking nearly all their supplies and running off in Hugo’s SUV, leaving Hugo and Isabel and two others to die. 

At least they’d been decent enough to toss Isabel’s bag of Louis’ clothes and photos, seeing no use for them. 

Dangers that others brought with them was something they needed to avoid as much as possible if they were going to make it to West Virginia, to Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth. After that first betrayal, they swore they’d never do it again. They had each other and that was more than enough. 

So much death and destruction witnessed and experienced. The worst humanity has to offer, a world of kill or be killed. Just like with shooting a gun, Hugo never thought of a lifetime where he’d have to take another's life under any circumstances, but he has. They both have, more than once. A cruel, dark world they’ve ventured through in search of that one speck of light, of happiness. 

Their son, Louis.

All the while, Geoff found himself a snug home within Isabel’s backpack, only ever emerging when they found a safe place to settle for the night and eat. Not a care in the world for the danger that lingers all around them. What a life that must be. 

It doesn’t matter now. They’re close, and Geoff can fuck go himself, Hugo thinks. 

“I have to know, Hugh.” 

“I know.”

“I have to know what happened… even if he’s not there or not… not himself.”

“I know. Me, too.” 

They’re so damn close. They have to be.  After ten years of searching and getting held up, they crossed the border into West Virginia, one more step closer to finding Ericson. 

“Hmm? What’s that?” Isabel leans down, tilting her head towards Geoff. “We should make him sleep outside tonight?”

“Belle,” Hugo warns.

“I know he’s a mean, old man, but that’s no reason to be so cruel, my friend. He’ll freeze to death.” 

“You and that damn turtle,” Hugo sighs. 

Lifting his binoculars, he can see the wreckage perfectly. Remains of a boat scatter across the shore, seemingly untouched. A few walkers roam around with little purpose, nothing they can’t handle. Hugo’s become well acquainted with the hatchet on his belt and the handgun in his bag, skills he never dreamed up picking up years ago but thankfully, he’s a quick study. 

“Looks abandoned.”

“Of course it’s abandoned. No one’s going to mess around with a shipwreck like that. Looks like someone blew it to hell.” 

“I mean, I don’t see any signs of anyone around. Some walkers, but that’s it. Part of it’s washed up on land. It’s worth looking through.”

“For what? Soggy supplies?” Isabel sighs. “It’ll be dark soon. I say we loop around and go back to the train station for the night.”

“It’s barely afternoon, and that place is picked apart.”

“Yeah, but there’s a mattress,” Isabel says. “And a crib for Geoff to sleep in.” 

That gets Hugo’s attention.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Isabel rolls her eyes. “Geoff’s sick of sleeping in the bag, and I’m sick of sleeping outside. And your leg-”

“My leg is fine.”

“It won’t be if you keep overworking it,” Isabel says. “All jokes aside, I’m not carrying your ass back.”

“So you say.”

Isabel sighs, glancing around. With his back still turned to her, Hugo can feel the anxiousness wafting off of her.

 “Look,” she says, “if we’re as close as you think we are, then we gotta find a map or something, get our bearings and go from there.”

“I agree,” Hugo says simply. “After we check out the boat, we’ll do just that.” 

“Ericson is our number one priority, not that boat.”

She’s right, but the main problem they’ve run into is actually finding Ericson. Going based on memory alone, Hugo believes they’re close, but can’t decipher just how close. There are no signs leading to the school, nowhere to lead them in the right direction. Finding the train station was a stroke of luck out there. It gave them a starting place, and surely, it had a map that could lead them to Ericson’s gate. 

However, who knows how long it will take to locate and travel there. 

“It could still be days before we actually find it. We still need food to live, so unless Geoff is on the menu for the next few nights, we’re searching the boat. It’ll only take a minute.” 

The warmth of her glare burns into his back, but Hugo’s grown used to conflict like this with her. Along with many of the things he never thought possible within this world, he and Isabel actually sticking together through it all still manages to surprise him. 

He loves that woman with every fiber of his being and he’d die protecting her, and he knows she feels the same way. Somewhere along the journey, they no longer stuck together with the only purpose of survival and pursuit of their son, but because that love somehow rekindled, despite everything. 

Different. Hardened, even. But, love all the same. 

“You’re sleeping outside tonight.”

“Come now, love,” Hugo smirks back at her. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” 

“It ran off with your prudence.”

“Scandalous.”

Despite herself, Isabel smiles. 

“We’ll be quick?”

“Quick as lightning.”

Popping the final bite of granola into her mouth, Isabel scoops Geoff up, saying, “C’mon, buddy, maybe we’ll find you a fishy friend down there or something.”

“We should let him roam for a bit. I’m sure he misses the water.”

“Nice try, but no,” Isabel says, slipping Geoff into her bag. He protests little, happy to fall into another slumber or do whatever it is that he does in there. 

Hugo doesn’t care what he does. The only thing he cares about right now is finding food and other supplies that may bring him one step closer to finding Ericson, and if he has to dig through the debris of an old, wrecked boat, then so be it. 

---

Clementine runs her thumb over the defeated, black pawn in her hand, finding a chip in its head. The fingers of her other hand tap along the table, anxious and rapid. Perhaps the soft noise will serve as a distraction. 

Louis isn’t bothered by the tapping in the slightest. No, rather he seems amused with that small smile of his as he glances over the board. Opposite of her, Louis sits relaxed, leaning forward with his chin in his palm and a light hum vibrating in his throat. 

It’s almost infuriating. 

Here she is waiting in great anticipation for him to checkmate her, silently hoping that by some miracle, this won’t be her third loss in a row. Clementine tries to follow his gaze to see where he’s planning to strike, but it becomes obvious rather quickly that he’s teasing her with that faux stumped expression. 

Louis looks to her and grins, quirking a suggestive brow as he picks up his queen. With a wink, he makes his move. 

It takes everything in Clementine’s power to not toss the board across the room when he gives her his signature ‘checkmate’ sign. 

“How?” she exclaims exasperated, slamming her hands down on the table, startling Rosie from her afternoon nap beside her. “That wasn’t a legal move!”

As she’s complaining, he’s already jotted down his reply, twisting his notepad around for her to see. 

Someone hasn’t learned anything from the last two games, have they? And yes, it was 100% legal. You’re just a sore loser, my darling. 

“I am not!”  

Louis shoots her a look. 

“I’m not!” Clementine insists.  “I- you are cheating!”

‘Me?’

“You!” 

Louis places his hand over his heart, pouting his bottom lip out as far as possible and knitting his brows, sniffling. He’s such a sad sight that the corners of her mouth twitch disobediently, defying her attempt at a scowl. 

“Careful, Lou. You could trip over that lip.” 

That makes him smile. 

With a sigh, Clementine leans back to look over her defeat, arms crossed and pride only slightly wounded. The walkie talkie beside her falls over with a soft clunk. 

She thought she’d be good at this game full of strategy and thinking ahead, but her mind can’t get a grasp of it no matter how many times Louis tries to explain how to play and win. 

Marlon never beat me either, he once wrote to her. One time I felt so bad for him that I threw the game so he could win, but it backfired. He figured out what I did and we had to play another 3 rounds before he gave up. Wanted to beat me fair and square. Never could.

He tried something similar with her once, but Clementine could see what he was doing, too, and called him out on it. He sighed, checkmated her within two turns, and as usual, she threw a weak tantrum. He then laughed at her, placing yet another check next to his name on their scoreboard: Louis - 7 , Clementine - 0

Louis plucks his winning piece from the board and grabs her hand, placing the Queen within her palm and closing her fingers around it. He kisses the back of her fist with a warm smile, something he does every time he beats her. She’s come to learn that it’s his way of saying, ‘I’m sorry you will never beat me at chess, but for what it’s worth, you are my queen.’ 

Such a thing shouldn’t make her skin flush as much as it does. 

“One day I will beat you.”

Louis nods, but it’s not as much convincing as it amused. He kisses her hand again before moving to clear off the board. Three games are enough for one day, and that she agrees with. As they clean up the table, Clementine catches him grinning to himself. She wants to ask what he’s thinking about but decides against it. 

She wasn’t sure they’d ever have moments like this after the raider’s attack, after what they did to Louis. For a while, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get to see him smile like that ever again.

Clementine still has nightmares about it. A warped world full of Louis’ sobs and Lilly’s snickers, blood all over the floor and her hands. When she tries to pry the door to Louis’ cell open, her fingers slip. The blood never goes away. She does eventually get the cell open and Louis is there, curled up in a corner, violent trembles wrecking his body as blood and drool drips from his mouth. 

Then she wakes up and Louis is beside her in their bed, alive and healed. Well, physically healed, she supposes. Those internal wounds- the mental and emotional- would scab over, but every once in a while, that scab is torn or completely ripped off and the pain comes flooding back. Never fully healed. She knew all about those scabs.

For weeks after they escaped the delta with their friends- well, most of their friends- Louis secluded himself away to the darker parts of Ericson. He wouldn’t look anyone in the eye, he wouldn’t eat in front of anyone, and he wouldn’t let anyone touch him. Not Clementine, not AJ, no one. 

Clementine thought anything they had between them- the feelings, the quiet, tender moment they shared in the piano room, their first kiss- was gone, that Louis wouldn’t want her after what happened, that he wouldn’t ever forgive her. She blamed herself, even if he didn’t.

A few days after she woke up, she asked Louis to be honest with her.

“Do you hate me?” 

And he shook his head, ‘No.’

“I’m so sorry, Louis, really I… could you ever forgive me?”

And he didn’t say anything. He didn’t nod, he didn’t shake his head. He averted his gaze, stood from his chair, and pulled her blanket up to her chin. He brushed stray curls from her forehead, and then he left. 

But, he came back the next day, and the day after that. He came to see her every day while she was stuck in bed. 

The strangest part was that he would smile, but more often than not, it wasn’t real. No, it was forced, a way to trick everyone into believing he was okay, that everything was fine. 

She saw through it. Sometimes, she went along with it because it’s what he wanted. Other times, she’d confront him about it and the facade would drop and she would see him in his true state. Then he would leave, and she couldn’t follow. She couldn’t walk, and she didn’t call after him. 

After that torture, the mutilation, Louis lost a chunk of himself that Clementine wasn’t ever sure could be filled again. On top of it all, Louis lost two of his best friends within weeks of each other and nearly lost Clementine herself. 

Even she’s surprised she survived the impromptu amputation performed by AJ in that walker infested barn. She woke up hours later without a leg and a sense of relief that she was actually dead and at peace, but the pain swelling in her knee and burning through her body told her otherwise. If that wasn’t convincing enough, AJ and Louis’ hugs and cries were. 

It wasn’t easy getting on with their lives; dealing with Violet’s death, thinking Tenn was dead, the loss of Louis’ voice and her leg, it all added up and waking each morning became a chore. 

Then Tenn came home, and Clementine got out of bed. 

Louis helped her walk to Violet’s grave to pay her respects in the form of freshly picked flowers, and as they stood there, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it. It was the first time he reached out to her since she first woke up, and what was more surprising, he sat down at the table with her and everyone else. 

He ate little, whether it was due to the pain he still felt while healing or his self-consciousness about the whole thing, Clementine didn’t know. She didn’t ask, she was just happy to see him eating something after weeks of not knowing if he was or if he could. 

Then he smiled. A real smile, right at AJ, before smiling at her. 

Even now, Clementine can remember it as clear as day. Louis smiled at her, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a piece of folded paper. He handed it to her, and she read it. 

Clementine, 

Do you know why lobsters never share? Well, it’s because they’re SHELLFISH!

Sorry, I wanted to lighten the mood before I got serious. 

What happened wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for anything and I can’t even begin to explain how happy I am that you are alive. I was so scared after you and AJ came back and what happened to Vi and Tenn. I will do everything I can to help you through this, Clem.  You’re my best friend and I need you and everyone here. We need each other. 

I’m not okay, but I will be. I want to be, but it’s hard. I want to be better. 

I was also hoping that maybe you’d be my girlfriend? We never really made it official before, but seeing you wake up after thinking you were dead, I know that I still want to give this a try if you’ll have me.

-Louis

That was years ago, and everything’s better. 

Not perfect, but it’s home. 

The school no longer went by Ericson, but Castle Violet, in dedication to their friend who sacrificed herself to save Tenn’s life. They rebuilt several parts that burned down in the past, cleared out restricted areas for use, and now have a thriving rabbit farm next to the well-working greenhouse. 

Ruby and Aasim are still together, living in the same dorm room now. While they don’t necessarily have a “leader” these days, Aasim is the closest thing they have to one of those with Clementine as his second in command. 

Ruby, believe it or not, has spent a vast amount of her time working on a proper prosthetic for Clementine since Willy and AJ’s left a lot more to be desired. 

Omar still plays his role as the main chef, though he’s also taken to caring for the greenhouse and rabbit farm alongside Aasim and Ruby. All the while, he’s the one who found old sign language books, tutoring Louis, himself, and the rest of them to help further Louis’ communication process. For that, Clementine will always be thankful. 

Willy took on all the repairs around the school, as well as bomb preparation- in case of emergencies, he claimed- weaponry, and fixing up a set of four walkie talkies for them all to use to keep in touch throughout the school and outside the walls. 

As for AJ, he’s grown up. It’s hard to look at him and remember he’s only nine-years-old. For so long, Clementine worried about who he was growing up to be, whether he could make good choices or not, if he knew when it was right to pull the trigger or not. He’s proved himself to her time and time again, and learned to trust him.

Then there’s Tenn, who now knows how to shoot a gun properly thanks to careful training from her and AJ, and he’s capable enough to handle himself out on hunts and scavenges. In fact, today’s his first day out by himself. Well, him and Rosie. 

Clementine glances at the walkie talkie beside her. Now that she thinks about it, Tenn hasn’t radioed her all day. God, she hopes he didn’t forget to take the other one with him. The whole point of Willy fixing these things up was so that they could have a line of communication from outside to the school. 

She’s sure he’s fine, but that doesn’t stop her from worrying. It is Tenn, after all. 

Louis hums, slipping the cover over the box containing the chess game and tucks it away. Clementine recognizes the song, one that he does when he’s content. Standing from his spot, box in hand, he kisses her cheek as he moves past her to put the game away. 

Clementine snatches his free hand, pulling Louis back for a proper kiss. He smiles against her lips, a chuckle building in his throat. The grin remains even when they pull away, even as he rolls his eyes and gives a playful pinch of her cheek. 

“Stop,” she giggles, smacking his hand away. 

He laughs, leaving her to put the chess game back where it belongs. 

Clementine shifts and the walkie talkie beside her falls back over on the table. Static breaks through, stuttering, but loud enough for her to take notice. 

“Clem? Clem? Are you-”

“Tenn?” Clementine speaks into the walkie, thumb pressed painfully against the red button on the side. “Tenn, are you okay?”

“I-” a break. “I-I have wounded- they-”

Maybe it’s the effect of the walkie, but Tenn’s voice stutters with a dreadful alarm. 

Louis grips her shoulder, leaning down to hear the walkie better. The worry that furrows his brow matches her own. 

“Tenn, where are you?” 

“Fishing shack- We’re in the fishing shack. There are walkers-” his voice is clear now, but there’s something behind his voice, the voice of another speaking. “There was a man- I-”

A pause.

“Tenn? Who’s with you? Are you okay?”

Silence.

“Tenn?”

#[checkmate] #twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg clouis #clouis #twdg louisentine #louisentine #twdg tenn #twdg aj #twdg aasim #twdg ruby #twdg omar #twdg violet #twdg marlon #twdg willy

[themoonandotherslikeit]

Holding On and Letting Go - Chapter Two

The sequel to The Hand That Reaches for God

Emerson was always told that time heals all wounds, but whoever said that must’ve not lived in the world that she lived in. They must’ve lived in the time before, when the world its self wasn’t this bleeding, throbbing wound, and that time did nothing but drag out the never ending pain.

The Maklen sisters and the Winchester brothers were inseparable, their whole lives, and when the world turned red they did the one thing they knew how to do– be together. But now, the same world that pulled them together, seemed destined to rip them apart again and shatter something that was so fragile in the first place.

Chapter Two 

“Makes a cathedral, him pressing against me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.” - Richard Siken

-3 Years after-

The morning came like it usually did, too fast and unnerving. Usually Emerson woke up from the sun bleeding through the blinds, boards, or whatever they had covering the windows and shielding them from the outside. They had yet to find anything to keep the blazing rays from breaking through, even in thin slivers. But that morning, she woke up from Sam bursting through the door. He was breathing heavy, and holding up the old CB radio that was crackling with static, like it always was.

“Sammy?” Dean asked groggily. 

“They were talking,” Sam said breathlessly. 

“What?” Emerson sat up, suddenly wide awake.

“I heard voices. They’re far away, and it wasn’t a strong connection… but they said they have a community. They called it safe.”

The familiar feeling of hope dying shattered within Emerson’s chest. “No such thing.”

“Em,” Dean whispered, his face softening at the pained sound of her voice. 

She waved him off dismissively and tossed the blanket off of her. She bent down and slid into her boots.  

“There may be,” Sam said, desperation in his voice. “We have to try, don’t we?”

“We don’t have to do anything but survive, Sam,” Emerson snapped, tightening the laces on her boots. She couldn’t look up at him, couldn’t risk those puppy dog eyes tugging at her heart strings. 

“But what if she…” 

Emerson’s face snapped up to his then, and she shook her head. “No. I can’t.” 

“What did they say, Sammy?” Dean asked, placing a hand on his brother's chest, inserting his arm between them. 

“It was jumbled, but I know they’re in California. They said they’d be broadcasting at the same time every day. If we don’t try, then we will be fucked, Dean. I know we will. We will eventually run out of ammo… we will run out of resources and then what do we have? Plus, it’ll be warmer in California.” 

Sam was right. They knew that, but Emerson knew that if she allowed herself to have even the smallest twinge of hope that she wouldn’t be able to survive losing it. The reality of the situation, though, was that they were running out of options. Her eyes stung, and she bit down on her tongue in an attempt to drive the pain deep inside of her soul somewhere more manageable. She sucked in her breath and met Dean’s eyes.

He was her bandage, her tourniquet. He was the only thing keeping her standing upright, breathing,  talking . “Whatever you think is best,” she said, defeated. 

Dean’s eyes didn’t leave hers. His iris’ were a deep green, beautiful, dizzying, and unbelievably calming. They were home. “Let’s pack up and head out. The generator died in the night, anway, so we can’t stay here. Sammy, you can check the radio every day at that time, and as long as they’re still broadcasting, we will keep heading in that direction. It’ll be a long trip, so we should probably get going.” 

That was that. Dean’s words were law. 

Emerson wasn’t sure exactly when she started letting a man make her decisions for her, but it was easier than owning her own choices and having to face the pain and responsibility of everything she loved bleeding out at her feet. 

-2 Years Before-

Churches always made Emerson uncomfortable. There was something about organized religion that just made her nauseous. The man standing up in front of dozens of people, behind him an image of a man hanging and dying on a cross. It made her nervous. It felt like a way to gain control. 

But she found herself standing between the pews, staring up at a stained glass cross, and an altar littered with burning, melted candles. 

Dean was rushed into surgery before she had arrived. He had been stabilized during his deployment and now the surgeons had to undo what had been done to him. She had no answers. She wasn’t his family, and she wasn’t his girlfriend. It didn’t matter what soft words were exchanged between them on the roof of her house. None of it fucking mattered. She rubbed her breastbone with the heel of her palm, and she let out a pained gasp, as if for the first time she realized that she wasn’t the one on the table. She was alive. She was awake. 

She felt helpless and that wasn’t something she was comfortable with. 

She walked to the altar and picked up the matchbox. She knew that each lit candle was a prayer. She wondered if the prayer was answered when the candle burned down, or if that  meant that they were abandoned. Or if it meant anything at all. 

Emerson Maklen didn’t pray. She wasn’t sure she even knew how. She tried a few times when she was a little girl. Praying for her father to return. For her mother to stop crying. But it never felt natural, it always felt wrong. 

She pulled a match out of the box and struck it, a small orange flame bursting to life at the tip of her fingers. She stared at the dancing flame, looking for the answers to the questions she was too afraid to ask. 

She couldn’t stop playing out her last conversation with Dean. He stood there, handsome and hurtful on her doorstep, like no time had passed. He stood there like the last time they saw each other they hadn’t made love. As if he hadn’t slipped out her window into the darkness without saying goodbye. 

She was so angry with him. She didn’t want to see him again, but when she got the call that he was hurt and was being flown home she didn’t hesitate. She felt so fucking stupid. She felt embarrassed. She felt selfish and hurt. And she loved him so much that there weren’t even words to describe it. 

She reached forward and lit the candle for Dean. She wasn’t sure if he believed in God, they’d never talked about it, but it didn’t seem like it could hurt. They needed all the help they could get. She put out the match and lowered herself to her knees and clasped her hands. 

“I’m going to give this a go, because I’m desperate.” Her voice shook and trembled.  Ask and you shall receive . She let out a breath to steady herself. “I don’t know if you’re listening, or if you’re even out there, but if you are what everyone says you are, almighty, forgiving, the embodiment of love… then please help him. Help Dean. I’ll give anything.” 

Her voice cracked in a sob, and she squeezed her hands together tighter. 

She remembered reading a story online about a man who promised God that he would walk all the way to Israel if his child was healed. When her cancer dissipated, he walked his happy ass to Israel. 

She would cover oceans if it meant saving Dean. Maybe she didn’t have to say it out loud, though, for God to get that. If he was all knowing, anyway. 

“Don’t let him die… I know I’ve been mean to him. I’ve been unfair, but God I need another chance. I can’t let him die thinking I hate him. If he lives then I’ll be honest with him. I love him, and I will love him as long as I live. I know that, because I’ve already loved him for as long as I can remember. I can’t… I can’t lose him.” 

-3 Years after-

They’d been walking for hours, checking periodically for vehicles that still had gas, but they knew it wasn’t likely at this point. Everything had been raided long ago. Emerson was never an athletic woman. She had never been strong or fast, but as time had passed she had developed an endurance. She didn’t get tired walking all day, not like she had at first. Her senses were keen, her eyes always scanning for danger, for Rogues. 

The sky had gotten progressively darker the longer they walked. The clouds were dark and heavy with rain. The snow from the day before had melted as they walked, the earth heating and shifting as they climbed out of the mountains and back down to more solid ground. Lightning lit up the clouds, deep red and brilliant, causing Emerson’s mouth to go dry. They needed to find shelter, and they needed to do it fast. “Dean,” she said, glancing at him.

He didn’t look back at her, because his eyes were already scanning for a place to stay. He picked up speed, jogging down the main road of the small town they had just entered. “There!” Dean shouted, as the road slanted downward, exposing a large, towering structure that cooled Emerson’s blood the moment she saw it. 

The cathedral broke through the dark, black clouds. Its spires twisting and reaching for the sky. There was no sun to brighten the stained glass, or what was left from the broken pieces, leaving shards of Jesus staring down at Emerson, pious and unforgiving. The sky shook with an angry clap of thunder, and she considered that this could possibly be the end. Maybe the sky would open up, and forcibly baptize her in a vat of acid. Afterall, it was likely the only true way to erase her sins. 

She shook off the chill that the massive stone church left as she stared up at its grandeur. Emerson wasn’t sure what was causing her unease, because she knew that God wasn’t in there-- if he ever was in the first place. She knew that now he definitely wasn’t listening. 

She hadn’t been inside of a church since she begged for the life of her mother. She assumed that each person was only granted  one miracle, and she used hers on Dean. Her eyes stung as they approached the massive wooden doors. 

Sam pressed his palm to the door. “Sanctuary.” 

Her eyes flickered to him. She didn’t agree. 

Dean’s hand pressed against her lower back. “You good?”

“Peachy.” 

He grunted in response. 

She never told him that he was her miracle.

Her fingers twitched at her sides as she wondered if she should’ve saved it for Ophelia. She wondered if Sam used his miracle for Dean, too. 

Sam pushed the cathedral doors open wide, as she and Dean prepared their guns for anything that may jump out of the shadows. Their preparedness rarely helped them, though. 

The church was a large, open room with dozens of pews lined up facing a large altar at the front, directly in front of a large, broken stained glass window. Even from the shattered pieces, Emerson could tell that the glass was once something beautiful. The way it was now, though, left her feeling empty, haunted. It was like whatever once resided in the church - faith, hope, love - had all been burned away to nothingness. There was nothing hopeful left in the premises. Not anymore. 

The altar was lined with burned down candles, and Emerson wrapped her arms around herself as the memory of lowering herself to her knees to beg for Dean’s life probed her mind. She closed her eyes and willed the memories to leave her. 

She wasn’t that girl anymore, not by a long shot. She wasn’t sure she could even pick herself out of a line up anymore. She had been avoiding her reflection. She couldn’t face her own eyes. 

She jumped a bit as two arms snaked around her from behind, embracing her warmly. “What’s going on inside that head of yours?” Dean asked. His lips were pressed against the base of her neck, the warmth of his whisper making the hair on the back of her neck rise. 

“Faith.”

“Find some?”

“Not exactly.” She kept her eyes closed and just revealed in the warmth of his body against hers for as long as she could. “I was just wondering how it’s possible that there’s a god when all of this has happened. Look at the world, Dean. It’s horrible. How can god allow that? How can people still have faith after that?” 

“I don’t know, baby.” He pressed his lips to her hair. His voice was sad. She was sad. It was heavy in the air. “I’m going to secure the perimeter.” His arms dropped, letting her go, leaving her feeling hollow and cold. 

The rain started in a steady downpour, the sound of a thousand droplets falling down with the sound of shattered glass against a stone roof. The Winchester’s. Checked out the remainder of the church to make sure there were no threats, and Emerson just stared at the hole in the glass window. 

Deep red rain fell through the broken glass, dripping down like fresh blood in sizzling heat as it landed on the ground inside of the church. Emerson resisted the urge to reach out and touch the water, to feel the pain against her arms, to feel  something . 

“We’re good,” Sam said as the boys entered the church again. “I think I’m going to get some shut eye.” He settled into a back pew and closed his eyes, laying back. He did that sometimes. It seemed like he wanted to give them some space. 

Sometimes even space can be just as suffocating. 

She settled into a pew in the front. She pulled her knees up to her chest and continued to watch the rain. 

“Can I sit?” Dean asked cautiously. 

He was walking on eggshells with her lately. Every move felt calculated and anxious. Every move closer was a step further away from her. “Sure.” 

He sat next to her and took her feet and placed them into his lap. He rubbed her calves gently. “I know things are shitty.” 

“You can say that again,” she said with a snort. 

He chuckled a bit at that, but it sounded strained. She looked up to him. His face was twisted, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes full of pain. She winced instinctively. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to love someone so broken. 

She sucked in her breath and scooted closer to him so she sat in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Dean,” she murmured, pressing her forehead to his. 

“Emerson,” he whispered back, almost cheekily.  Leave it to Dean Winchester to make light of any situation. 

“I know you didn’t ask for this, and I… the way that I am now, it’s not because I don’t love you. You know that, right?” 

“Emerson Maklen, you’re difficult. I know that. I’ve always known that.” He took her face in his hands and stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs. “But I’ve never wondered if you love me. Sometimes I’ve wondered if you’d  let yourself love me, but never if you did.” 

She let out a soft laugh, willing the tears to stay inside of her where they fucking belong, but she couldn’t. They’d been coming constantly for so long now. “I want to be okay, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again.” 

“I get it, Em. I’ve been this broken thing before. I’ve been a bird with clipped wings.” Dean held her face with the strength of someone who was holding up the entire world, and the gentleness of someone cradling a newborn. “My love doesn’t have contingencies. You don’t have to be fine for me to love you.” 

Sometimes Emerson wondered how things would be different if the world hadn’t erupted into flames. She wondered if she would still be with Dean. If she would’ve been brave enough to admit that she loved him, that she always had loved him. She’d spent the majority of her life choking it down, convincing herself that he was wrong for her, and then allowing him to prove her right. 

Fear was a thing with teeth so razor sharp that one nick can start a bleeding that’s impossible to stop. She was paralyzed for years. The endless  what if’s making her dizzy. She was terrified of what it meant to fall in love, because more than anything, it meant adding another person to her and Ophelia’s tight partnership. It meant a wedge between the sisters, and every bit of outside pressure caused another crack. There were only so many ways that something can break before it can never be repaired. 

That possibility always felt so far off, so distant, like a nightmare.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Phel.”

“Probably die.” 

Dean said that she didn’t have to be fine for him to love her. 

She kissed him with every bit of life she had left, because he deserved it. He deserved something better. Someone more. 

She wondered how long it would last. She could pretend to be fine. She was good at it. She’d been doing it for years, after all. But eventually the mask would fade, just like everything did, and she had to ask herself if he would still love her if he knew. 

-106 Days After- 

For the third time in her life, Emerson Maklen prayed. She prayed to a god that she wasn’t sure existed to beg that her sister was okay, that Sam was okay. They were always supposed to die together, on the same day. She prayed today wasn’t that day. 

They were going to grow old and live in a big house together, since they’d obviously outlived the Winchester’s. She always teased Pheli for her idealistic outlook, but as she ran toward the sound of a gun firing she needed it more than she ever thought she would. 

She pressed her palm to her chest and felt her heart pounding, racing under her skin. Part of her was sure if her sister was dead that she would know. She would feel it. Ophelia was an extension of herself so she would  know. 

Wouldn’t she?

—–

Chapter three

Catch up on Part One Here

Tag List:

@hanaissupergirl

@deans-baby-momma

@cpag7

@tftumblin

@squirrelnotsam

@formulafun

@thatgirl1456

@wildfirekitten

@ceisbill

#apocalypse #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural au #spn au #spn fic #writing #mine #dean winchester #sam winchester #ofc #dean x ofc #sam x ofc #mcd #angst #love #otp #fluff #post apocalyptic #zombies #gore #violence #smut

[swearronchanel]

9.01

Ok it took forever to find a working link here we go

1965..

- Omg the ceiling falling on her during labor gtfo

- “Where do we begin? What marks the start of any new adventure?” Tell me, Mature Jenny

- I’m so emo ugh a year ago today (well tomorrow) I moved to London for the semester 😭 I miss it so much..

- THE BEACH BOYS😍 hell yea the tunes

- I WISH THEY ALL COULD BE CALIFORNIA GIRLLLLLSSSS

- Love Trixie’s robe, I need one

- Here’s her damn electric shaver 😂

- RIP Churchill, except not really bc you know racist, eugenist, etc😂

- You tell em Patrick! He sucks

- The turners now have a cohort of children and now rabbits lmaoo

- Tim’s been sent to boarding school, see ya never bro

- ANGELA SPOKE ?! HOLD THE FREAKING PHONE ITS ONLY BEEN HER WHOLE SILENT LIFE ON THE SHOW SJSJSJS IM SHOOK

- WAR HORSE

- skip that funeral Phyllis

- Terry wants to look after his mom how pure

- I want his camera ugh, wait till I get a vintage film camera

- Ok not to ruin the mood but Nonnatus was demolished once before, this is repetitive (I know the 60s brought demolitions but still lol)

- 7 months in squalor 😭 so sad ugh

- Phyllis to the rescue with some polite fighting words

- The cucumbers on the eyes 😂😂 I love them

- Here comes the tights competition lmaoo

- GORGEOUS GAMS, my new blog name

- Cyril gazes at them? 😂😂 who is looking at ankles? I’m weak

- I love her modesty it’s sweet lol, and I love Trixie who is modest in other ways😂

- Phyllis and sister hilda dancing and holding hands is pure AF

- I really like her, I want sister hilda’s backstory! but sister Francis tho - eh lmao I’m not sold yet

- Fred and his first wife’s picture omg let me rip my heart out, I’m glad he’s got violet now 😭

- But the little moment is realistic, we should see Patrick mention Marianne

- sorry Churchill I’m not mourning

- Trixie’s houndstooth coat is a look

- “Your values which I respect” I love her 😂

- Lucille doing the cross, felt

- Terry and his mom in the flat !! my heart

- Love my nurses showing off their legs even if this is a filler storyline *cough Trixie deserves better 1965*

- I love that Phyllis took the photos, we love a supportive mother figure

- The baby in the trash can I can’t 😭😭 it’s not just a thing of past and it’s heartbreaking

- I love Fred ok, he’s just a pure older white man. There are few

- I forgot Sgt Wolfe existed oops

- Like primrose hill ugh my heart I miss London

- Mother Mildred back on her bullshit and I love it

- She’s annoying in the best way 😂

- Sister Mj 😭 if she passes this series IM OUT THIS B! I can not handle *insert Lucille Bluth from Arrested Development saying I won’t hear it and I won’t respond to it*

- Is this Valerie’s bitch ass cousin LMAO ??

- Val pls go see your grandma, I cant stress this enough pls all of you go visit your grandmas if possible, life is too damn short and I know it too well

- Terry is the cutest child omg love him

- “Will he look like me?” Just rip my heart out would you ??

- So is this lady the mother?

- I’m calling it

- HOW DO YOU SPELL LACTATING LMFOAOAOAOA

- sgt Wolfe out here on his law and order detective shit

- What’s up with Terry?  he better not die or I’m fighting

- If something happens to this poor kid I’m going to be personally offended

- “It’s not convenient right now” me at anything, everyday of my life

- Lucille is so cute even when she’s trying not to panic

- Phyllis to the rescue, again

- I love babies but this show just makes me not ever want children LMAO

- If I have to get up on my knees to push out a baby, just slice me open

- Idk why but i wish they would’ve wrote Phyllis telling someone she gave a baby away that she obviously had out of wedlock. Don’t ask why I just feel like it could’ve worked?

- Omg the diphtheria in his mouth🤢vaccinate your damn kids !!!!

- “Everything is supposed to be moving forward” FELT THIS SHELAGH! the world seems to take 2 steps forward and 15 back..

- also loving her new hair tho

- “I haven’t got all day” mood af, Stan Phyllis Crane

- “We’ll be whichever of those you need most” Mother Mildred knows what to say

- I’m glad Trixie is there tho

- Miss Higgins is lowkey underrated, she’s only been a gem lately

- “There’s nothing worse than feeling unfresh” true af Trix, I would’ve never survived without indoor plumbing or soap or anything

- Shawty delivered her own baby?!! She’s BRAVE brave

- DID THE PRIEST KNOCK HER Up?? IM CALLING GOD

- “MOTHER Mildred” put some respect on her name

- I smell shadiness in this church

- SOMEONE HAVING A MENTAL ILLNESS DOES NOT MEAN A PERSON IS BROKEN !!

- Mother Mildred PLS throw some hands for the sake of the Lord almighty

- “Smells of his chemistry set And clearisil” ahh yes what all the cool kids smell like these days you know 😂😂 rip Tim, not gone just moved away till who knows when

- ANIMATED GIBLETS LMAOAOA NOW THTS MY NEW BLOG NAME

- I love shelagh when she says random ass shit 😂 reminds me of her sister Bernadette days

- But Where’s sister Julienne in all this??

- “And I would feel more at ease if i remained” TELL EM MILDRED

- Not too sound so gen y or whatever us late 90s babies are but this priest is only giving me ~bad vibes~

- The Reggie pic😭 I love it

- Fred adding the newspaper clip to his memory box I can’t take it

- Violet my blue eyeshadow queen, I love it (I’m wearing it again in 2020, it was a look that one time)

- “Family meant no space” 😭 I just want terry to get better and reunite with his momma and new sibling

- Omg Brenda 😭 where is your ex? I will wring his neck out

- Trixie😭😭 the childhood traumas tonight whew,..

- It makes me so sad ugh

- Sister Hilda has a velvety accent if that makes sense lmaoo

- “Do you know who the father is? FATHER” MOTHER MILDRED DRAG HIM! YOU KNOW IT AS I DO

- Omg this little girls arm! help her

- Trixie’s two piece little set is so mid 60s and cute

- “I was running away from something that was hard and it was too easy” felt that Val

- But I’m so glad she’s gonna go see her gran

- TERRY IS OK GOD BLESS 😭

- “Pass the tea cakes to this end” LMAO I guess I am Mother Mildred

- Sister Julienne is like probably like thank God Mildred is finally leaving 😂

- They won runner up! 😂😂

- FISHNETS LMAO I love it

- Aww sister Frances made a blanket, pure

- SLAP HIM WITH THE CANE MILDRED

- it’s her pimp cane😂 I love it when you call me big mommaaaa

- I KNEW HE WAS THE FATHER!!! I AM PERSONALLY CALLING THE LORD TO SMITE HIM

- Violet framed Betty’s photo wow bye let me ducking cry my eyes out

- I love the buckles <3

- So what’s the next move with the demolition??

- “The past is never lost to us, we carry it with us...”

- THEY GAVE TERRY TIM’S BLAZER WOW MY HEART !!!!!

- “...the way we embrace it has the power to change everything” 😭😭

- Aww the Turner babies and rabbit babies

- Ok that was a good episode 😭

#call the midwife #my commentary #well here i am once again haha #taking on 1965 aka 2020 #yes im late af lol american problems

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #269

“why aren’t you scared of me, why do you care for me, when we all fall asleep, where do we go?”

What’s your sexual orientation? Bisexual. What are you obsessed with right now? lol y'all know my staple stuff I'm always obsessed with, so two recent ones are Skillet (I've been binging soooo hard) and drawing again! What piercings do you want? A lot, jfc. More than any, I want collarbone dermals once I lose enough weight to where they're prominent. I've been on a goddamn weight loss plateau for two years. What’s your favorite show to binge? None. I generally don't enjoy binging too much. Do you watch porn? No, not interested. Do you have a secret sideblog? lol this survey blog. Do you have/would you get your nipples pierced? No. I very briefly considered getting one pierced, but I won't. Are you angry with anyone right now? Not like... actively. But passively it's there. What tattoos do you want? I refuse to die until I'm P A I N T E D  F O R  T H E  G O D S. Do you like paper books or ebooks better? Absolutely paperback books. It feels more "real," something to dive into, and it's easier to see and understand how far you're in. We talked about this in Writing once, was an interesting convo. Plus the smell of books, aaaaaahhhhh. Do you still have feelings for any of your exes? Yes How many followers do you have? On here? *checks* 265. Do you read erotica? No, I'd feel SUPER uncomfortable. That's why 50 Shades has never appealed to me. Have you ever gotten into an accident with you parents’ car? No. Ever thought of just picking up and moving far away? Oh yes. What’s the wallpaper on your computer? My lock screen is the Halo of the Sun from SH, and my actual desktop wallpaper is my favorite closeup of my late pup Teddy. What is the last thing/person you took a picture of? Probably a stupid Facebook meme to show Sara or something lmao. Name a band/artist you like that isn’t that popular. Otep. Can you lift your significant other (your best friend if you’re single)? I'm sure I could. What is the first vehicle you recall your parents/guardians owning? Mom had a blue/greenish van for most of my childhood, while Dad had this old tan thing that he nicknamed "Frida the Cheetah" lmao. He had that damn car forever. Have you ever seen counterfeit money? Not knowingly. Have you ever lost a pet you were attached to? Well of course. I grew up with tons of pets. What was the most rebellious thing you’ve ever done? Probably texting back "fuck you" to Mom when she was being really shitty when I was having a breakdown. Pick one: laundry, dishes, or vacuuming? I'd pick vacuuming over the others any day. Have you ever moved and had to change schools growing up? No. You are forced to move out-of-state. Where do you go? I literally want to move to Canada. The highway and back roads take you to the same place; choose your route. Back roads, probably. You’re going to be a mom/dad; what do you think/do? Have a fucking panic attack. Are you more likely to give up or persist when you’re having trouble? It really depends on the seriousness of the situation, but in most cases I've actually faced, give up. Do you resemble one parent more than the other? I don't think so. Your best friend needs a kidney to survive; do you give them one of yours? If we're compatible, yes. Name a big life event that has taken place for you within the last 2 years. Nothing because my life is incredibly monotonous and stagnant. Name one difficult lesson you’ve learned. Life isn't fair, and life doesn't care. Name one thing you look forward to as you get older. Hey, let's hope I can be a functioning adult before I'm 70. Do you use your hands when you talk to emphasize what you are saying? Yes. Will you usually admit it when you’ve made a mistake? Yeah. Does stress ever affect you physically? If yes, how? Oh, yes. My stomach will absolutely hurt and I sweat more than normal (I say "normal" because I have hyperhidrosis). Did you have a money box as a kid? What shape was it if you did? I don't remember... I know we didn't regularly get an allowance or anything like that, but maybe I'm sure I stored money I was given somewhere? Has kids TV ever frightened you? As a kid, I both watched and feared Courage the Cowardly Dog, lol. Do you have any potted plants in your house? No. If you were born outside of your era, when would you want to be born and why? Early '80s! What a time for music, metal fashion, and fun. If you ran a store, what would you sell/have? IF I was more knowledgeable on more species, probably reptiles and more proper care materials and give advice that's not shit. Places like PetSmart and Petco just... disgust me. What part in a movie would you love to play? If I was confident in acting, probably the maniac lmao. I've experienced enough Crazy for that. What's the oldest article of clothing you own? I don't really know, but I do know Mom has a lot of my and my siblings' shirts as we've grown up to knit together a blanket one day. Fuckin cute as hell. What piece of furniture have you replaced the most? The couch. What instrument do you wish you could be more than great at? Guitar, with that electric twist anyway. What’s the best part of your favorite movie? When Simba roars atop Pride Rock in the storm and all the lionesses join in FUCK I get goosebumps out the WAZOO. What do you think is the most over-rated candy ever? Twizzlers, disgoosting. If you could only debate two topics the rest of your life, what would they be? LGBTQ+ rights is #1, then... hm... probably the pro-choice argument. Or just women rights in general. Out of your friends, who would you say you are most jealous of, artistically? Oh man, my friend Mini. She drew pretty well when we were young, but her skill like... increased exponentially with time. She doesn't draw in a *style* I'm envious of, but that growth tho. Most jealous of….intellectually? Girt. What is broken that you have, that you wish was fixed? My brain lmao. A famous person you have met? Nobody. Who were the last five people to text you? Dad, Sara, Ashley, Mom, and my grandma. What is your favorite book that you had to read for school? The Outsiders. Think of the last two people you kissed. Who was more fun? I've explained the "idk if *I* ever actually kissed Girt" before, but just for the sake of the question, I'll just count him. I tbh hated it only ever because why were your lips always wet, sir???? The latest person was Sara, and she kissed fine. If your house was burning down and you only had sixty seconds to grab one or two things, what would you grab and why? Roman and Venus because they're family and I adore them. Out of all the concerts you have been to, which band/singer was the best performer? Alice was great! When was the last time you went miniature golfing? For Jason's and my second or third anniversary, so a long time ago. What’s a song you like from a genre you hate? I always answer this question with a country answer, so let's go rap. Hm. OH, probably a Post Malone song. I actually don't mind him. If you had twin girls what would you name them? Alessandra indisputably, and then the other... maybe like, Josephine. Especially as twins, I'd want two gorgeous, less-heard names. What kind of condoms do you use? I don't use any because I'm not sexually active. Do you say years young or years old [ex: 16 years young or 16 years old]? Man, I miss the days I could confidently say "years young," lmao. Do you have any personality disorders? Avoidant, yes. I'm pretty convinced I have dependent PD, too. Do you shave your arms? Armpits, yes, but not my entire arms. What do you dip your fries in? Ketchup or honey mustard. Has one of your good friends ever moved away? Damn, yeah. I particularly remember this girl from elementary school in I think the 5th grade that I was very close with, yet I don't remember her name now. What color car are you when you play The Game of Life? Dude idr the colors at all. Which hair color do you find the ugliest? I've seen it be pulled off, but generally, yellow. Would you date a guy that wears more make-up than you do? Hell yeah man you fuckin strut that shit. Did you ever play M.A.S.H. when you were little? Ah, I remember that! Sure did. If you were getting married, who would be your maid of honor? My mom. If you have any pets, were they adopted from the humane society? No, but I would of course. Do you like home design, like picking out paint colors and furniture? Not any more than the average person. Do you chew gum on a regular basis? No. List all of your features that you have ever got compliments on: Do you mean just physical? If that's the case, hair, eyes, smile, uh... I feel like that's it. WAIT I can't remember who but someone once called my nose cute. Have you ever been in a hot air balloon, and if not, would you ever want to go in one? No; yes. What type of computer do you have? It's an Acer Nitro 5. Is anyone else in the room with you right now? My snake. Do you whiten your teeth with crest white strips? Not Crest, but a different brand, yes. I hate my teeth. Do you listen to local bands? Not really. I will sometimes listen to an old friend's band, at least bits of what they post on Facebook. Nova Mortis, check 'em out if you like pretty heavy metal. Do you have a pool in your back yard? No, but damn do I wish. Do your parents fight? Do they even talk at all? That's why they're divorced. They, especially Mom, avoid doing so whenever they can. Do you drink alcohol on New Year’s Eve? Usually. Do you wear rings? Just one, a friendship ring w/ Sara. Are there any restaurants in walking distance to your house? It'd be quite a long walk, at least by my standards. What was the last picture you uploaded to your Facebook? A picture of Mom and me. Have you ever listened to the same song on repeat for hours on end? YES. When I find a song I really like, I become VERY obsessive. Like I will play it and play it and play it for days. I in general have an extremely obsessive personality. Do you like staying in hotels? I don't have much of an opinion. It's a nice change of space, though. Are musicals interesting or boring? They're cheesy to me. What is your favorite scent of incense? (If you burn it) Okay, HEAR ME OUT. There is legit a kind called "monkey farts" that smells SO FUCKIN GOOD. Jason used to burn incense in his room all the time and that was my favorite one, so I use it now. Where do you normally hang out on the weekends? At home. I'm always at home, regardless of the day. Can you tune a guitar by ear or do you need a tuner? I never could. Do you like love songs? Generally, yes. They're sweet. Would you rather drink 7Up or Sprite? Fun fact: Sprite used to be my FAVORITE soda as a kid. I even had a fuckin Sprite shirt. Now, I hate it. I haven't tasted 7UP in forever. What is your favorite song as of right now? I'm seriously digging Halocene lately, esp their cover of "bury a friend." Have you ever sex texted? This is gonna sound so stupid, but I'm actually not *totally* sure what that is? Just like, dirty talking or like, virtually RPing sex? The former I did when I was fuckin 12 like a goddamn idiot, but not the latter. When's the last time you went out of state? A year and a half (I think?) ago to visit Sara. What was your favorite TV show last year? I didn't *really* have one, at least not actively. Like I didn't devoutly watch anything. Would you know who to talk to if you wanted weed? HAHA I sureeeee do. I wouldn't want any, though. What is your favorite Beatles song? "Hey, Jude." If you could kiss anyone right now, who would it be? I don't want to think about this. What is your favorite energy drink? I don't like energy drinks. Way too intense. Have you ever been to Hooters before? No. When's the last time you tripped? (Literally or, you know) HA, funny I take this survey today because my left foot is either broken or I seriously tore a ligament in it because I fell yesterday. I had to go up a dose on my medication that helps my nightmares, but it's notoriously for lowering your blood pressure, and mine is naturally low. I got up to go to the bathroom and grab breakfast and many times nearly passed out from being so dizzy until I finally fell and my foot bent forward. I couldn't even walk by myself yesterday and am still really struggling today. Our family friend brought the boot she wore when she broke her foot over just a while ago, but if this doesn't help, Mom's demanding I go to the ER. Can you touch your toes? I don't know HOW I can, but I can, I guess from when I did yoga daily and I could pretty much go under my feet. What would you say is the best feeling in the world? Being in love and knowing they're in love with you, too. Have you ever “spoken” to any celebrities via Twitter? No. Do you like croissants? YESSSSSSSSSSS. Do you get a lot of traffic outside your house or not? Yes. Mom explained to me why one day because I'd asked, but idr what she said. Do you eat cereal bars? No, I'm a granola bar person. Would you consider yourself healthy? Uh no. Assuming you could speak and understand the language, would you ever study in a foreign, non-English speaking country? Sure, for like a year or so! Doing that in Germany would be amazing. Are you on any prescribed medication? A lot. Do you know any immigrants? I know an illegal one that got deported. I probably know others. Have you ever lived in university or college accommodation before? No. If you haven’t already, are you scared of leaving home? If you have, do you like it? Very scared. I'm just very dependent and ignorant on how to be an adult. If you could only eat one vegetable for a year (not including potatoes) what would it be? Broccoli. Do you have a certain routine in the bath or shower? What is it? Shave, shampoo, facial scrub, this exfoliating brush for your feet, and then body wash. Is there anything that you loved a year ago but just can’t stand now? Hm. I don't really know. What’s the weirdest meat you’ve ever eaten? I took the SMALLEST bite out of it because I couldn't stomach eating it, but after a lot of convincing I tried a microscopic bit out of deer jerky. If you smoke, what brand of cigarettes do you smoke? If you don’t, have you ever tried? Don't smoke and don't want to. Do you like dried fruit at all? what’s your favorite type? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

#survey #questions #quiz