#ik it was on vine too but then vine died

[indouloureux]

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

where you goin'? i'm too fast you say 'what you doin?' don't do that never been a liar, baby, i'm a lilac and you are my sun and every season i need you to keep glowing

summary: bloody and bruised, you watch the thick crimson ichor blend into the thin waters that seeps through the faucet of steve's pristine bathtub. grime and black tar stain the marble of his bathroom floor from the wounds on your feet, and his tears stain your tired thumbs. he trembles in your touch, and he melts into your sacrilegious kiss, and revels in your promising words

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, hurt steve, mentions of blood, events before the two days later time skip of volume two, no one dies but max gets hurt and so does eddie

a/n: ik i said i had a 20k fluff fic with eddie but i wanna give steve some love and comfort bc poor baby :((( (images are not reader in steve its just hard to find a pic like that lol)

there's nothing but the lone owl hooting behind the cluster of trees beside steve's house. the lights are off, there's fog hovering over his cerulean pool that he refuses to dive into since 1983. you watch as nancy's car scurries away into the road until her lights are nothing but a speck of dust, and switch your attention to him.

him, steve. who has a lenient hand on your back as he stares off into the abyss of the empty street in front of him. from afar you hear chaos, the confused screams of the clueless townspeople at the sight of a gnarly opening that splits hawkins into four. you can still hear houses falling into that red pit, but most of all you can hear steve's breathing.

a breathing that's hanging by a thread. a tired breathing. one that breaks your heart and probably his, too.

he's covered in grime and blood. not his, anyway. eddie's, who he had to carry with the help of his limping friend who'd cried the entire time. you had watched the way steve's eyes were wide with panic when he practically hurls eddie to you and nancy with all his strength before he'd helped dustin up.

eddie's blood had spread across his face when he wipes the tears away. he doesn't want to show vulnerability yet. not when his friend was on the verge of death. not now. don't be selfish.

"hey," your voice brings him back to earth, from wherever reminiscing daze he'd been on. and his head whips at you in worry.

"hey, baby. you alright?" his hands, although covered in the dried tar and grease of vecna's black veins, comes up to touch your face. it reeks, but there's that congenial scent that holds on to bring you both some comfort as you lean into his touch.

"yeah," tingling fingers come up to brush his hair out of his forehead, coming down to grasp the red ring around his neck that makes your bottom lip wobble. "let's go inside, yeah?"

wordless, he nods, wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you close to him. like he's afraid one of the vines would come up from the gates and hurl you back into that blue hell.

the door to his house opens with ease. he doesn't even care if someone had decided to break in inside his unlocked home. because it doesn't feel like home anyway. not when his parents are gone still, not when you're not in it. it's not a home. it's just a house. an empty, boring, lifeless house.

steve switches the lights open. the dim flaxen color illuminating the entire living room, coated in dust. he scans it, finds everything still in the same place before he continues your journey up to the stairs that lead to his bedroom—the only thing used other than the kitchen, his bathroom, and the television in the living room that he barely even opens now that he mostly spends his time at your place watching movies from the tapes he "borrows" from work.

the door to his room creaks eerily, the same lights from downstairs adding a too much optimistic glow on his bedroom. steve sighs, uncurling his arm from you to unsheathe his jacket and throws it into whatever corner.

"here, let me help," he walks over to you when you struggle to remove the clasp of the vest he'd practically forced you to wear. his hands gently remove yours from your vest, pressing down onto the sides until you feel yourself breathe properly; lax in from the freedom of the tight protection. "'m gonna take a shower, okay? wanna join me?"

he's already got his shirt off when he asks if you want to join, where you can see his bandages wrapped tightly around his torso. there's barely any blood there but you can see the light brown taint on his sides, the once wheaten bandaging now darkly brindle.

"yeah sure. just let me grab some towels,"

"there's some inside, baby," steve takes your hand, kisses the open cuts on your knuckles that had faded into this heavy numbness. "lets get you cleaned up, yeah?"

when he holds your hand and leads you to his bathroom where he sits you on the closed toilet, he closes the drain and opens his faucet to fill his alabaster tub. and once it starts flowing, he starts undressing you first with delicacy as if you'd been the one brutally hurt.

with gentle kisses to your shoulder, you let him rip your soiled shirt into two. steve's kisses are healing, antiseptic to your open wounds, honey to your sore throat and sage for your withering health.

then he lets you remove your jeans as he removes his own, where he takes yours into his hands and throws the both of them into the bin beside the sink. just in time for the tub to be full enough to wash the both of you.

with a hand to your back and a hand that clutches yours for safety, you dip your feet onto the tub.

once you've settled, steve follows next. he dips his body into the water, blood shattering the clear mosaic as you both feel the water wash off the ichor of a dead monster. but it feels wrong - rather it felt like steve had dipped his body, clad in open wounds, into an ocean, the salt stinging his bleeding scars. with his bandages long gone and discarded onto the charred floor, he feels the waves stab onto his bites like they want to hurt him more.

he lets his pain show with the way his face grimaces and he hisses. steve gasps quietly, watching his blood and dirt amalgamate with yours into the water you bless yourselves upon, watching everything turn pink with the specks of soot.

"christ, that feels good," he takes your hand into his once more, dipping your knuckles beneath the water and lets his thumbs wash the dirt off your knuckles to prevent any risk of an infection. "we showered yesterday before we went in but it feels like i haven't showered in years,"

"seems like that, to be honest," your shoulder raises, resting your cheek onto it. "you reek, stevie. like...dead meat."

"yeah, well, god knows what those veins have touched," he shivers. your hands arose from the pink water, the grime washed off meticulously by his soapless, gentle scrubbing. but you reach for the small bar of soap from the handle beside you and dip it lightly onto the water before you start scrubbing it along his hairy arms. "you don't have to do that."

"no, let me," you want to take care of him. you pity the dread that circles around his irises, the lethargy visible in his hunched body, the fear that exudes with his blood, the muscles that continue to fight; if not for himself then for the people he loves. the people he'll continue to love and give love in the way he wants to be given with. steve dilutes in your touch, watching the white foam turn gray.

and you see it. right when you've been expecting it do you see the crystal glass that gloss over his eyes that had been threatening to spill out since yesterday. steve's shallow breathing, the hair on his chest rising with the waters making it cling onto him, and his hands shaking against you.

"god, i can't fucking keep it anymore," he barely washes the soap off his skin when he curls his hands into fists and presses it against his eyes. "i can't hold it in, baby."

you scoot closer to take steve's broken soul into your arms. he sobs, breaks down and lets his cries break. your hands tangle themselves onto his damp locks, keeping him close to your shoulder and let him cry onto you. you do nothing but rub his back, bite your own tears in and listen to his lugubrious wails.

"i feel so weak. i feel like i don't deserve to cry because i don't have it harder. they've seen worse things but i felt...i felt a lot of pain," he whimpers into you. "there's this ringing in my ears that never leave, (y/n). i feel like i'm going deaf in one ear and my head just—" he pulls away from you, wiping his own tears. "my head just hurts and i don't know what's wrong with me."

"baby, come on," you cup his face, large in juxtaposition to your small hands, his tears staining your tired thumbs. "nothing's wrong with you. you're allowed to cry, honey. what makes you feel this way?"

"i don't wanna seem weak to you," he sniffles. "don't wanna look like a coward to dustin. to anyone but i've been trying so hard to put on a brave face. ah, fuck,"

everything inside you breaks when you see his eyes; striving to let it live with love but drowns in melancholy grief and heedless torpor. they gloss and they shine in the dim light of his bathroom, begging for remedy as they search yours for any aid. steve's own hand touches yours, his face crumbles and lets himself quietly sob.

"you're a hero," you whisper to him, leaning closer that your nose brushes with his. "people may not say it but you're a hero. you fought off the demogorgon in the byers house, you helped dustin and the kids with the whole demogorgon thing too and saving them from billy and helping will. and you helped dustin discover those russians and if you hadn't, maybe they would have invaded us by now," steve chuckles against you. "you did all those things without any hesitance, stevie. you're amazing,"

in your hands was a boy who craved love and appreciation. a boy who's changed for the greater good and yearns for felicitations. a boy who's kept his nightmares to himself in fear of seeming weak and too vulnerable; and steve lets himself be that boy to you.

"i have these dreams," steve's eyes are wide with fear. "that everyone died and it was all my fault. you'd been killed by a demogorgon, dustin and the kids they—they burned inside that lab. same one every night baby—"

"well i'm here now," you shush him, dragging your hands across his shoulders and massage the tension away. "and the kids are safe. i'm here, honey. i'm alive and i'm okay,"

"everything hurts," he gasps. "my head and my ears and my fucking neck," he tilts his head up to kiss your forehead, digging his wet lips into the soiled skin. "i don't know when it'll stop and i want it to stop, baby."

you know he's not just talking about the physical pain.

you both know he's talking about the never ending guilt in his chest when he sees the pool, the faded scars on his face that yells stupidity at him, the circular scar on his neck from after he was drugged beneath the mall he worked for, and now the cruel bites of the inter dimensional monsters.

"i'm here baby," three reverential words, sacrilegious that's prosed into a promise of protection and endless devotion. steve sobs into your skin and expresses his gratitude with a hard, chaste kiss to your split lips. warm, home, loving.

"you'll be here forever, right?"

his words that come from the years spent wandering around the desolated walls of his home, his longing for parental guidance and genuine love. the words that come from a changed man who promises himself to remain good and forget his old asshole self. steve cries against you.

"forever, baby," you furrow your eyebrows, smiling at him. "till i'm all dust."

he's the wilting lilac in a dead field that blooms when your radiance glows from your sunny disposition. even know with your bare limbs tangled inside the confined tub of his sacred bathroom, arms entwined and lips locked together into an oath. steve vows to show himself to you no matter what—lets himself break down and cry.

for now, steve harrington will grieve and cry and break against your touch. and he'll bloom later once the sun has risen and he's gathered up all his courage to face whatever challenge their failure has brought upon them. with his hand in yours and his heart mended.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things blurb #stranger things one shot #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things steve harrington #stranger things 4

[yuelaos-codex]

Alone, desire, ghost for the new baby Selene 🙈 and failure, heartbreak, midnight for Ylva 🙈

TYSM BIGGIE! 😭😭💖💖💖 (ik it’s a little late djshjsfkdk)

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

She always has been lonely 😭 she likes to read books, draw, and write songs as an escape. She’s from a noble family, but was treated as a bastard so there were a lot of times that she was alone. She lives with her human mother that was too focused with her job (or whatever she was doing). When no one is around her, she recites lyrics out loud to check if they rhyme. A lot.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

Acceptance in her family. Being born as a half-elf in a noble family of sun elves, she was always ignored or tolerated by her (inherently racist) relatives. She’s trying so hard to assimilate in high society but she’s always treated as an outsider. However, she’s well-liked outside of nobility.

it all boils down to what she wants is to be loved 😀

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

Before the tadpole fiasco, she has never killed anybody. Yes, she had magic training from the academy, but she never had to use it. She was sheltered. She has ordered people to kill their political enemies before, but she never had to do it herself. It was just a bandit that suddenly opened fire at them, and she had to defend herself. The smell of burning flesh and their screams as the flames engulfed them still haunts her sometimes. Every time she bloodies her hands, the faces of the people she has killed warps into the face of the bandit. It’s a dog eat dog world, and she was a tad bit late to the party.

((She feels like they all turn to that bandit to protect herself from the fact that numerous people have been added to her murder list. If they all share the same face, that just means she’s only killing one person, right?))

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

heimdall lmao

I guess you could say giving into her emotions. That whole incident got her exiled from Asgard, which stripped her of her Valkyrie position— a title she worked her whole life to get.

Ylva does move on from it through her revenge.

Everyone and their mothers knew about it! It was the talk of the town. She was the first Valkyrie to get exiled, and backed with a controversial reason too.

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

LMFAO U ALREADY KNOW 💀

As for some other kind of heartbreak:

She was also heartbroken by Freya because during her rampage after finding out about Heimdall’s engagement, Freya bound Ylva with her vines. She felt that her (newfound) sister betrayed her. Imagine Ylva, while still bounded by the vines, giving Freya a pleading look as Odin was casting her exile 😭😭

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

During their mission to retrieve the Gjallarhorn, Heimdall almost dies which made her realize her feelings for him. On their journey back to Asgard, she would wake up randomly to nightmares of him dying. She’d scoot over his sleeping form and touch any part of him before going back to sleep. Funny how her nightmares turned into her dreams a few years later.

Fears and anxieties: being an outcast as a child, she has this fear of not being accepted by her peers. She’s a people pleaser.

I imagine Ylva making a snack and sitting by the fire if she can’t sleep.

#i had to make a banner for my new baby. no fc for this one unless i find out who exactly was the face model they used for the game 💀 #i’m too attached now 😭 #ylva the type to cook pancit canton as a midnight snack #yue's codex entry: ylva #yue’s codex entry: selene #yuelao.ask #ask games #ylva tjørnsdottir #selene aleanraheal #gow oc #bg3 tav #ylva 🤝 selene being raised in a r4cist society 💀💀😭😭😭

[syngonivm]

made my first wetstick prop box tonight :3 i microwaved the moss in hot water yesterday in preparation just to make sure it sterile beforehand cause i had a prop rot in some of it once and i was worried it left bacteria/fungus on the moss </3

the large sticks are a syngonium albo that i got as one cutting with a beautiful leaf a few weeks back but the roots it had got stunted for some reason and the leaf died :( so as a last resort i cut it up and made a prop box for it

this was her pretty leaf rip

decided to throw in some other stuff i had no luck rooting so far either. two regular ol scindapsus even tho i have more than enough lol it just feels like a waste throwing them </3 theyre from a second vine of my plant i got last summer that i recently repotted and gave a moss pole. it Literally grew itself into a knot?? so when i repotted i decided to cut it but i've jut not had any luck so far with propping them 😩 ive had them in water ive had them in moss, they rotted, i tossed the rotted ones and put the healthy ones back in water along with more cuttings hoping they'll trigger root growth in each other but nothing!!

hard to see but theres two very very tiny scindapsus silvery ann. mine died mysteriously early this year? or late last year and ive been trying to root the little i could save since :( this ones been stunted and its leaf finally died too so i cut it up and stuck it in. i hope i can save it 😩 rn i got two more cuttings in soil.

i miss the plant dearly i was always so excited to see the new leaf pattern and it grew sm and fast but then suddenly its leafs curled and it never recovered. tried not to overwater even tho the leafs were obviously thirsty and eventually found out the bottom part of its stem is all dried up. the big rootsystem and the rest of the plant were fine but i had to cut it :( and the curled leafs didnt even recover after putting them in water. the roots i end up tossing cause i had it in water and forgot by the time i remembered it was rotting </3

tho today i saw one of the water cuttings did finally push a new leaf. at least i think it was a silvery ann. i took some before the plant died so it could get bushier and it's been like over half a year but finally roots. i planted it so fingers crossed

anyways theres also one white butterfly syngonium cutting in there. i got a big old one in semihydro for only 5€ a little while ago and i made 3 cuttings. one i gifted away, one is still happily rooting in water (the head one) and this ones leaf just died and the roots it had suddenly rotted off 😭 i cleaned it up and hopefully can give it a second chance in the prop box. weirdly the eye under its leaf wasnt sleeping it was already bulging u can see it on the photo bottom right first pic.

i wanna make backup copies of the plant in soil jic the whole hydro stuff doesnt work out. i got 0 experience with it and finding info on this stuffs so hard most i find is for growing veggies in pure hydro and growing weed in semihydro :/ both pretty useless to me atm

anyways. fingers crossed <3 i read mixed info on wether or not i need to air the box out so uh ill wing it

I'm so excited to see new growth tho ik it'll take long 😔

today i also planted a rooted cutting i was gifted :3 im not sure what type of syngonium it is tho. looks like it could be either a juvenile batik or a white butterfly? but it's stems are red 🤔 fingers crossed it'll quickly adjust. theres some new growth on of the stems already.

#plants #houseplants #plant mom #but im a dad lol

[kurtbrussels]

tik tokers with those tiny little mics??? one of my fav things

#ik it was on vine too but then vine died #its more of a tik tok thing and just seeing someone holding one makes me lose it before i even watch the vid #vine had putting increasingly bizarre things on your head as costume #tik tok has the tiny mics #the guy that wore some headphones as a wig fdnsnfjsjw icon

[my-apollo-gies]

PJO/HOO/TOA as Vines

(I'm so sorry in advance)

Percy: I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand!

Grover: Poseidon quivers before him!

Percy: Fuck off!

Reyna and Thalia: *those two girls in red and blue sumo suits, dancing*

10 year old Nico: Don't fuck with me; I have the power of God and anime on my side!

Leo: Hey, say 'kid' backwards.

Jason: Dik?

Leo: Ha ha, that's gay.

Piper: Bitch said I looked ugly, so I said 'Bitch, where?'. She said 'under all that makeup'. *wipes cheek* Bitch, where?

Leo: January, February, March, April, May, June, Jason Derulo

Frank: Stop! I coulda dropped m' croissant!

Hephaestus Cabin: A potato flew around the room before you came in

Leo: *joins cabin*

Cabin 9: aAaAaAaHhH

Bianca: Hey, I'm lesbian

Nico: I thought you were Italian

Hazel: So, am I confusion. Why is this one Kansas, but this one is not Arkansas? America, explain- explain: what do you mean it's not Arkansol?!

Will: *plays pop goes the weazel*

*ends on g note*

*swaps to wttbp*

Nico:

#shitpost #hopefully therell be a part 2 soon? #who knows #ik too many vines #in fact i was quite annoyed i couldnt find an italian cooking one bc i didnt know all the lines and i had to check #yeah it was will #incorrect demigods #percy jackson #grover underwood #reyna alnez ramirez amirello #thalia grace #nico di angelo #leo valdez #jason grace #piper mclean #frank zhang #cabin 9 #bianca di angelo #hazel levesque #will solace #incorrect percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #incorrect pjo #the heroes of olympus #hoo #incorrect hoo #trials of apollo #the trials of apollo #toa

[funkymbtifiction]

Heyy! I'm super confused on what Ne is

Like the only reason ik I'm an Ne dom is because of my inferior Si. I have read stuff online and its just very unclear if that makes sense. Like i can't understand what exactly it is. Is it about creativity? Or just your thoughts jumping around alot or finding patterns

Every time i come across an explanation i just get even more confused 😅😅

It's perception that moves in many different directions at once, searches for patterns, and connects things that others may not feel are connected. It allows for diverse thinking (many solutions, not just one; many possibilities, not just one; I could be many things, not just one). It latches onto things and goes with it for a while, then loses interest because there's no more potential to imagine what that might be like, or how it would play out, and moves on. This is why ENPs are stereotyped as not following through on things, because dreaming about it, thinking about it, talking about it, can replace doing it -- when it comes to the actual implementation of something (lots of work, boring routines to maintain, details), the interest fades. It's abstraction -- a preference for discussion, thoughts, and ideas, rather than direct activities or the real world. It's looking past the object to what it symbolizes in a greater sense or what it means; eg, attending your grandpa's funeral and thinking about death as a concept or talking about how people fear death, and what death means to different cultures, rather than simply sitting with death. It's big picture thinking -- how does this flow into that and connect? What are the major implications of this?

It's starting a writing project and you have too many ideas, you don't know which one to begin with, and a bunch of characters come into your head, and you follow all of them for awhile until their plot lines peter out and then you don't know what to do with them; it's exploring each day and discovering what your story is, by writing it.

Basically, Ne does in the head what Se does in the environment -- it learns as it goes, it builds pathways as it goes, and it reacts in real time to everything on the fly while being invested in it. It works in the sphere of ideas and possibilities and interpretations rather than gets hands-on with the world around it. It's a belief that you change the world through ideas, which means... writing about stuff, sharing ideas, blogging, being double-sided sticky tape for EVERYTHING.

For me, it's like being a blank canvas and soaking up everything all the time without passing judgment on it, seeking interesting ideas in the process, and actively wanting to bounce them off other people to see what sticks and what doesn't. It's having trouble focusing on the topic, because my mind wanders away into uncontrolled thoughts and related areas. I say I want to write an article about Jurassic Park's animatronics and I wind up discussing how Dr. Grant winds up being a father figure to the two kids instead, how circumstances brings out his parental instinct and reveals he wouldn't be a dreadful dad, even if he argues that he hates kids. It just... happened. I started talking about animatronics, found out that wasn't interesting, so my brain built in a different direction and four paragraphs later, I stumbled across the topic within the concept that interested me on an intellectual level. I never know what I intend to do until I get there. This goes for relationships, shopping trips, deciding what to make for dinner, everything. I float around waiting for things to stick. I will get obsessed with one thing for a week, or a month, or six months, or a year, and then one day wake up and not care about it, and dump it by the side of the proverbial road. It means spending hours and hours discussing psychology and the meaning behind things, theorizing on how things might unfold or seeing them in a different way. It's hard for me at times to know what my own opinions are, because I automatically remember every stance I've ever read on the subject and all the opposing arguments I came up with to counter it, and I may think differently about it tomorrow than I do today, so nothing ever feels truly fixed, permanent, or settled in my mind. It's all continuously shifting. All I know, though, is I have to keep moving forward, thinking about my future, seeing it change (seeing it stay the same means depression), speculating about it, seeking out interesting thoughts, and hoping that my life doesn't get stuck anywhere, because I hate that. If I am able to keep learning about a subject, it interests me -- but once I think I know everything about it, once there's no more intellectual excitement in it, it withers and dies on the vine.

#question #mbti #ne #enfp #entp

[wickedpact]

You can't just drop that "I read Forces Multiplied" bomb on us and not give a ten page written reaction.

[cracks knuckles] if u insist

nicky cant drive hc: destroyed. rip. also i loved how andy and nile stole those sports cars and were being badass and driving off the bridge & meanwhile joe and nicky were just absolutely vibing in the van

'heres the thing about power: people who have it think they deserve it' [shot of police car] i see u greg

5 whole panels being dedicated to booker not being able to unlock his door. booker not even seeing noriko sitting RIGHT THERE in the window at first. incredible

noriko being 24/7 horny was surprising. like wow all of the stuff i saw she did out of context was 100% equally horny in context as it was out of context. love that for her

i didnt think the 'andy + slavery' thing was handled as badly as everyone made it out to be when telling me about it. tho from the way it was talked about i had kind of figured the conflict between andy and nile re: slavery would be really racially charged (esp considering nile is a black american and would obvs have Thoughts on the subject in that regard) but like,, done in a cringey 'a-white-guy-obviously-wrote-it' kind of way? but it wasnt that. i mean. it makes sense that andy would be implicit in slavery through the years

i mean, like she says, is that not what people just did to each other in the aftermath of battles for thousands of years? and i really like how its pointed out that it was what she was raised with (in the beginning when you see her put shackles on that guy after the battle) but she also accepts responsibility for it and acknowledges that it was wrong and not just 'what people did'.

i like how from her expressions you can kind of tell baby andy knew it was off but she sets those feelings aside bc she felt angry. it explains how she felt but didnt make her out to be blameless in it. plus i mean. i dont know, the fact that andy was involved in a lot of morally shady stuff for 7000 years is not that wild for me. if you live that long youre just Going to be involved in some shit, and she didnt even have other immortals with her as positive community influences, she literally just did whatever the fuck she wanted for thousands of years

'i was worshipped as a god once' i mean, yeah no shit she wouldve been involved in some seriously fucked up stuff, gods were fucking scary back in the day

tldr it could use some polish but it wasnt that bad

tho everything people said about moose being boring was unfortunately a little true. sorry king i tried to be interested in you

joe and nicky writing verbal fanfiction about nile and moose was iconic. 'you seeing that?' 'i am definitely seeing that'

it was also extremely funny bc that was like 60% of their contribution to the whole comic, besides kidnapping copley. they came, they wrote some fanfic, they left. kings. at least in tog1 they had an excuse to be useless bc they got kidnapped

joe just found out his old friend who he thought was dead is alive (and also probably wants to murder them) and instead of investigating with andy he stopped to help nile up. champ.

nicky shooting noriko through andy was cool. rip to the concept since it wont happen in tog2

wanna see mr ejiofor deliver this line

on that note imo copley was. weirdly enough, more interesting in fm than in tog1. to me at least. the fact that andy let him live and he was so haunted by what had happened that he came back and sought them out despite knowing they would likely kill him for it bc he wanted to not only make up for what hed done but also to tell them what theyd done for the world was admittedly more interesting than andy just kind of drafting him to the cause and him going 'okie'

i like how nicky was drawn in this one. in opening fire he looks like a blob man but in fm he looks more like a very nice grampa with a very good dye job

'theres no pain like a broken heart' andy 🥺

noriko implying andy's never drowned. .. .idk about that one, she musta drowned sometime

joe and nicky came, they waxed poetic about nile's love life, they waxed poetic about grog, and then they left.

sports bras being a reason humanity is good. i mean..... okay, yeah.

i mean. wild but you cant exactly tell her shes wrong

i liked how noriko telling andy that their purpose is to make people suffer coincides with joe and nicky finding out that they actually did good all those years

joenicky in opening fire: jail for booker jail for booker for 100 years

joenicky when copley tells them he knows where booker is: WE'LL KILL YOU WHERE IS HE

joenicky when copley comes back: if your vibes come off as even remotely rancid we Will destroy you

joenicky 2 minutes later when copley helped them find booker: he made up some ground :)))) <3 lov you j cops

theyre forgiving af

moose: how old are you?? a hundred??? a thousand???

nile [vine voice]: I M 2 7 ?

alright andy you got me there

joe texts like my aunt

i dont know why noriko drowning andy in that car tickled me. Bad And Naughty Andromaches Get Put In The Pear Wiggler To Atone For Their Crimes.

the drowning sequence was cool

copley trying to talk to andy while she was like o_o at him was great

ive hit the picture limit but id seen that panel where nicky goes 'forgive me' as he kills a guy out of context and it was HILARIOUSLY anticlimactic for me to discover that there was literally no context to it. nicky just apologizes to random people he kills. i thought that guy was someone he knew or something. nope its just Some Guy that nicky didnt know from adam

nile's complaint that andy was especially brutal to the guys on the boat... i mean. . , how exactly does one kill a man with an axe and not be brutal about it?

it was funny how noriko kissed andy and the only people who seemed surprised by that were nile and also andy

nicky and joe's complete non-reaction to finding out noriko is alive And Evil Now is endlesly funny. they just left her on that boat and neither cared. i get book and nile not caring but joe and nicky knew her, and they just have 0 input on the subject of what to do with her

pinstripe suit guy!

joe and nicky and booker packing up and leaving with nile

andy blowing up at nile was A Moment tho

i dont know, i get why people didnt like the ending but its. .. . it makes more sense in the comicverse. bc the squad doesnt really. .. interact outside of jobs? i mean, think of the moon landing story in ttt. that was booker and joe and nicky doing a job and andy only showed up a for a couple minutes after it was done. or the brunch in the first issue of opening fire. the squad arent as tight in the comic, and andy often seems to do her own thing outside of work, so andy saying 'i dont want to do work anymore' and the squad being like 'alright bye then' makes more sense in this universe than the movie one

also i feel like greg was Trying to set up a thing where nile becomes the Leader of The Squad after andy dies but like. its not very well done since. . . i mean, nile hasnt spoken to booker since opening fire, (and she only knew him A Day). and shes known joe and nicky all that time, but there isnt really anything that indicates that they have any relationship at all, much less one that's grown. in all the comicverse the only time nile and nicky speak is in FM, and in that scene nicky tells nile about noriko. nile goes from someone who needs to be set aside to have background knowledge explained to her to being the Leader of the group with nothing in between. it kind of... comes out of nowhere.

on the other hand tho... i felt really bad for andy thru the whole thing. well, i always felt bad for andy, but in this one she seemed so miserable, especially since it really felt like none of the others actually.... cared about her. when noriko came back no one asked andy how she was doing (big question ik, but it wouldve showed they cared at least), nobody ever expressed any concern for her, no one even really seemed to want to be around her. in opening fire everyone was more distant than in the movie of course, but there were little moments where she would joke with joe, or nicky would try and comfort her, or stuff like that, but in FM it really felt like they just didnt really care about her. & in opening fire it felt a lot like andy's relationship with nile breathed some new life into her, but in FM it felt like all they did was argue. i get theyre not *as* close in the comics but it really felt like the only person who cared about andy at all was noriko (which was probably also how andy felt) but it just seemed to come out of nowhere. honestly i was reading and i was honestly agreeing with andy that she might just be better off if she did just die. opening fire, on the other hand, never make me feel that way

tho everyone made it sound like when the squad split up it was one of those cursed 'the found family leaves each other at the end of the journey' tropes. but guys i mean,,, this is the second installment out of three. that isnt the End. theyll come back in the third one and Dramatically Reunite to fight some baddies (probably those 'others' noriko mentioned). im guessing yitzhak fits into that too somehow.

anyways it wasnt That Bad but it made me kind of sad and the only Sweet Found Family vibes in it were when they saved booker. also they shouldve beefed up that nilemoose romance, it underwhelmed me. 6.5/10

i also ABSOLUTELY understand all of greg's comments about how you couldnt make FM directly into a movie, he always said that it had no plot and. i get it now. it really didnt have a plot sdfghjkl

#nicoloalkaysani #it took me So Long to type this up #asdfghjk

[regrettablewritings]

Okii now we can move onto . . .

Who the fuck put the Peeps in the microwave?: You both did out of curiosity. You’d been watching videos on Youtube and TikTok about bizarre cocktails and candy absorbancy and morbid intrigue crawled into your minds. However, you were both just a tad too blitzed and tired to make your way to the bodega down the block, so you had to make do with whatever you found after rifling through the cabinets and the pantry. And that was a pack of peach rings, an unopened box of Mike & Ikes that was probably past its sell by date, and an opened, stale pack of Peeps that most definitely was passed said sell by date. You couldn’t quite focus enough to try and locate the expiration stamp, but you were willing to bet it had long since cartwheeled over that line. Ah, well: Adventure waits for no bitch. You nuked those neon blue bastards for good measure, hoping that the expansion meant it would take on more vodka. It did not. Not really. It was more like a gross-ass sponge by the end of the little experiment, and the pure sugar of it was enough to make your teeth rattle in your skulls. Suffice to say, curiosity killed the cat and knowledge brought it back. But the vodka-soaked Peeps laid you both back down when your hangovers came rocketing in the following morning.

Who forgot to put the cat outside before sex?: First thing’s first, he’s not exactly your cat. Frank is (you’re both pretty sure) just some stray whom you both have taken a liking to. Enough to feed pieces of lunch meat and water, and keep your window open just a smidge to let himself whenever the weather demanded so. Which, in turn, made Frank take a liking to you both. Given that he still liked to leave and take strolls about the area, you presumed he didn’t necessarily see your apartment as his territory per se. This was incorrect, and a dubious failure on both parts. You came to learn this when in a rather, ahem, entangling position, you heard what you could only describe as “the bordest meow you ever though a cat could muster without sounding like Squidward”. You both froze, panting stilling as your eyes widened in unison. You both turned to the source of the sound, of whom had been happily lounging in the window, nearly obscured by the flimsy curtains you’d insisted upon putting up when you moved in. In your heated moment, though, he might as well have been completely invisible; and he sure must’ve felt that way, given that your noisy affair had woken him from a pleasant nap! And God did y’all wish you were invisible. Well . .  at least you had the blanket over the both of you.

Who posts Vines/TikToks of the other doing embarrassing shit?: It’s never out of malice, but Dinah has a habit of recording you when you get a little tipsy. You’re the quieter of the two of you, so seeing what happens when you get a little liquid courage in you is always a riot for her. She loves when you try and sing or dance, even if she, in her drunken state, probably couldn’t do much better. That being said, though, I don’t think she’d actually post them unless she had your permission. You both know you would be far from the stupidest-looking bitch on the app, but it’s still a sign of trust and respect to ask for your consent on the matter. Plus, getting hella views is always sweeter when you both are in on it.

Who breaks the most phones?: Dinah, if only because sometimes she forgets her phone in her pocket while slipping in a hint of Canary Wail. And also because she tends to kick a lot while fighting, and those skin-tight pants just aren’t made for holding anything thicker than an atom apparently.

Who dies first?: Dinah hated this fuckass town. It was a hotbed of crime, it was grimy, and overall she just had a right to not like it. But she stayed out of financial limitations and of obligation: After all, what would her mother think? “We don’t fly away from our problems, Dinah,” the late Dinah Lance Sr. had told her many times when she was a wee chick. And Gotham was, unfortunately, a big problem for her. Thankfully, you sympathized with her distaste of the place. It might not have been as particularly ripe as her own, but your support was noted and appreciated. You didn’t see it as “flying away from a problem” if you were to move: “It’s just flying south for the winter. But for real,” you reasoned. It seemed so dumb to put it that way, but you could’ve sold Dinah aluminum siding on a log cabin and she would’ve bought it. That was just the sort of partnership you had. Unfortunately, Gotham was envious. That you didn’t even get the dignity of dying of old age or at least surrounded by loved ones instead of in the middle of a street by a stray bullet shattered Dinah’s core. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t cry. She just . . . couldn’t compute. And worst yet: She couldn’t leave. You were buried in Gotham, amongst so many criminals and dregs of society. But there were also innocents in there. So many, and yet so few, all consumed by the dirty maw of a city that didn’t care enough to keep them safe. Keep you safe. Dinah couldn’t leave; she didn’t trust them to take care of you, your final resting place. She could just imagine the stupid hooligans perching their filthy asses on your tombstone -- something she had to throw so much money on just to assure that there was something noting your existence in this unfair city -- and chugging 40s and rolling blunts, the dry contents spilling into the bouquets she would try to bring by every couple of weeks. Or the groundskeeper skipping town, leaving your grave to become overgrown with weeds. Or God knows what else. You being gone was a problem; she couldn’t fly away from you.

Which one I could see as being lactose intolerant: Dinah. She tries to abide by her bodily limitations, but lower-income areas tend to be food deserts that can’t exactly spare highfalutin alternatives like soy or rice or almond. Worst-case scenario, she just has to completely forgo the dairy option and get her calcium intake in other ways.

Who thinks they can do something really well but even though they can’t?: You think you can handle Dinah’s baby (aka her car). You . . . cannot. That bitch is a stick and as much as you’d like to think you can conquer her, Dinah’s baby ain’t havin’ it. Nor is Dinah, in spite of your protests and insisting that you can get it down.

Who is more likely to get kicked out of bed?: Neither. Even when she comes home late for one reason or another, Dinah’s usually too butt-tired to cause any shenanigans worth getting kicked out for. Same goes for you. You two may move around a lot in your sleep, but nobody gets literally kicked out of bed, either.

Who uses the computer the most?: You do, mainly because Dinah’s a workaholic for a job that doesn’t even use computers. Even when she’s home, she barely uses the laptop -- why did she even buy it, again?? Don’t ask her, she hasn’t the foggiest clue!

Thank you for participating and thank you for your patience!

#dinah lance x reader #dinah lance imagine #dinah lance imagines #black canary x reader #black canary imagine #black canary imagines #birds of prey x reader #birds of prey imagine #birds of prey imagines #dceu x reader #dceu imagine #dceu imagines #regrettablewritings #character ship meme #character ask meme

[timeless-hollywood-classics]

Joseph Evans Brown (July 28, 1891 – July 6, 1973) was an American actor and comedian, remembered for his amiable screen persona, comic timing, and enormous elastic-mouth smile. He was one of the most popular American comedians in the 1930s and 1940s, with films like A Midsummer Night's Dream (1935), Earthworm Tractors (1936), and Alibi Ike (1935). In his later career Brown starred in Some Like It Hot (1959), as Osgood Fielding III, in which he utters the film's famous punchline "Well, nobody's perfect."

Brown was born on July 28, 1891, in Holgate, Ohio, near Toledo, into a large family of Welsh descent. He spent most of his childhood in Toledo. In 1902, at the age of ten, he joined a troupe of circus tumblers known as the Five Marvelous Ashtons, who toured the country on both the circus and vaudeville circuits. Later he became a professional baseball player. Despite his skill, he declined an opportunity to sign with the New York Yankees to pursue his career as an entertainer. After three seasons he returned to the circus, then went into vaudeville and finally starred on Broadway. He gradually added comedy to his act, and transformed himself into a comedian. He moved to Broadway in the 1920s, first appearing in the musical comedy Jim Jam Jems.

In late 1928, Brown began making films, starting the next year with Warner Brothers. He quickly became a favorite with child audiences, and shot to stardom after appearing in the first all-color all-talking musical comedy On with the Show (1929). He starred in a number of lavish Technicolor musical comedies, including Sally (1929), Hold Everything (1930), Song of the West (1930), and Going Wild (1930). By 1931, Brown had become such a star that his name was billed above the title in the films in which he appeared.

He appeared in Fireman, Save My Child (1932), a comedy in which he played a member of the St. Louis Cardinals, and in Elmer, the Great (1933) with Patricia Ellis and Claire Dodd and Alibi Ike (1935) with Olivia de Havilland, in both of which he portrayed ballplayers with the Chicago Cubs.

In 1933 he starred in Son of a Sailor with Jean Muir and Thelma Todd. In 1934, Brown starred in A Very Honorable Guy with Alice White and Robert Barrat, in The Circus Clown again with Patricia Ellis and with Dorothy Burgess, and with Maxine Doyle in Six-Day Bike Rider.

Brown was one of the few vaudeville comedians to appear in a Shakespeare film; he played Francis Flute in the Max Reinhardt/William Dieterle film version of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream (1935) and was highly praised for his performance. He starred in Polo Joe (1936) with Carol Hughes and Richard "Skeets" Gallagher, and in Sons o' Guns. In 1933 and 1936, he became one of the top 10 earners in films.

He left Warner Brothers to work for producer David L. Loew, starring in When's Your Birthday? (1937). In 1938, he starred in The Gladiator, a loose adaptation of Philip Gordon Wylie's 1930 novel Gladiator that influenced the creation of Superman. He gradually switched to making "B" pictures.

In 1939, Brown testified before the House Immigration Committee in support of a bill that would allow 20,000 German-Jewish refugee children into the U.S. He later adopted two refugee children.

At age 50 when the U.S. entered World War II, Brown was too old to enlist. Both of his biological sons served in the military during the war. In 1942, Captain Don E. Brown, was killed when his Douglas A-20 Havoc crashed near Palm Springs, California.

Even before the USO was organized, Brown spent a great deal of time traveling, at his own expense, to entertain troops in the South Pacific, including Guadalcanal, New Zealand and Australia, as well as the Caribbean and Alaska. He was the first to tour in this way and before Bob Hope made similar journeys. Brown also spent many nights working and meeting servicemen at the Hollywood Canteen. He wrote of his experiences entertaining the troops in his book Your Kids and Mine. On his return to the U.S., Brown brought sacks of letters, making sure they were delivered by the Post Office. He gave shows in all weather conditions, many in hospitals, sometimes doing his entire show for a single dying soldier. He signed autographs for everyone. For his services to morale, Brown became one of only two civilians to be awarded the Bronze Star during World War II.

His concern for the troops continued into the Korean War, as evidenced by a newsreel featuring his appeal for blood donations to aid the U.S. and UN troops there that was featured in the season 4 episode of M*A*S*H titled "Deluge".[5]

In 1948, he was awarded a Special Tony Award for his work in the touring company of Harvey.[1][6]

He had a cameo appearance in Around the World in 80 Days (1956), as the Fort Kearney stationmaster talking to Fogg (David Niven) and his entourage in a small town in Nebraska. In the similarly epic film It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963), he had a cameo as a union official giving a speech at a construction site in the climactic scene. On television, he was the mystery guest on What's My Line? during the episode on January 11, 1953.

His best known postwar role was that of aging millionaire Osgood Fielding III in Billy Wilder's 1959 comedy Some Like It Hot. Fielding falls for Daphne (Jerry), played by Jack Lemmon in drag; at the end of the film, Lemmon takes off his wig and reveals to Brown that he is a man, to which Brown responds "Well, nobody's perfect", one of the more celebrated punchlines in film.

Another of his notable postwar roles was that of Cap'n Andy Hawks in MGM's 1951 remake of Show Boat, a role that he reprised onstage in the 1961 New York City Center revival of the musical and on tour. Brown performed several dance routines in the film, and famed choreographer Gower Champion appeared along with first wife Marge. Brown's final film appearance was in The Comedy of Terrors (1964).

Brown was a sports enthusiast, both in film and personally. Some of his best films were the "baseball trilogy" which consisted of Fireman, Save My Child (1932), Elmer, the Great (1933) and Alibi Ike (1935). He was a television and radio broadcaster for the New York Yankees in 1953. His son Joe L. Brown became the general manager of the Pittsburgh Pirates for more than 20 years. Brown spent Ty Cobb's last days with him, discussing his life.

Brown's sports enthusiasm also led to him becoming the first president of PONY Baseball and Softball (at the time named Pony League) when the organization was incorporated in 1953. He continued in the post until late 1964, when he retired. Later he traveled additional thousands of miles telling the story of PONY League, hoping to interest adults in organizing baseball programs for young people. He was a fan of thoroughbred horse racing, a regular at the racetracks in Del Mar and Santa Anita.

Brown was caricatured in the Disney cartoons Mickey's Gala Premiere (1933), Mother Goose Goes Hollywood (1938), and The Autograph Hound (1939); all contain a scene in which he is seen laughing so loud that his mouth opens extremely wide. According to the official biography Daws Butler: Characters Actor, Daws Butler used Joe E. Brown as inspiration for the voices of two Hanna-Barbera cartoon characters: Lippy the Lion (1962) and Peter Potamus (1963–1966).

He also starred in his own comic strip in the British comic Film Fun between 1933 and 1953

Brown married Kathryn Francis McGraw in 1915. The marriage lasted until his death in 1973. The couple had four children: two sons, Don Evan Brown (December 25, 1916 – October 8, 1942; Captain in the United States Army Air Force, who was killed in the crash of an A-20B Havoc bomber while serving as a ferry pilot)[8] and Joe LeRoy "Joe L." Brown (September 1, 1918 – August 15, 2010), and two daughters, Mary Katherine Ann (b. 1930) and Kathryn Francis (b. 1934). Both daughters were adopted as infants.

Joe L. Brown shared his father's love of baseball, serving as general manager of the Pittsburgh Pirates from 1955 to 1976, and briefly in 1985, also building the 1960 and 1971 World Series champions. Brown's '71 Pirates featured baseball's first all-black starting nine.

Brown began having heart problems in 1968 after suffering a severe heart attack, and underwent cardiac surgery. He died from arteriosclerosis on July 6, 1973 at his home in Brentwood, California, three weeks before his 82nd birthday. He is interred at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California.

For his contributions to the film industry, Brown was inducted into the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1960 with a motion pictures star located at 1680 Vine Street.

In 1961, Bowling Green State University renamed the theatre in which Brown appeared in Harvey in the 1950s as the Joe E. Brown Theatre. It was closed in 2011.

Holgate, Ohio, his birthplace, has a street named Joe E. Brown Avenue. Toledo, Ohio has a city park named Joe E. Brown Park at 150 West Oakland Street.

Rose Naftalin's popular 1975 cookbook includes a cookie named the Joe E. Brown.[14][15] Brown was a frequent customer of Naftalin's Toledo restaurant.

Flatrock Brewing Company in Napoleon, Ohio offers several brown ales such as Joe E. Coffee And Vanilla Bean Brown Ale, Joe E. Brown Hazelnut, Chocolate Peanut Butter Joe E. Brown, Joe E Brown Chocolate Pumpkin, and Joe E. (Brown Ale).

#joe e. brown #classic hollywood #classic movie stars #golden age of hollywood #old hollywood #1920s hollywood #1930s hollywood #1940s hollywood #1950s hollywood #1960s hollywood #comedy legend

[sagesparrow394]

Ethan Ceitful frowned, tilting his hat - a straw boater - back on his head. “These uniforms are honestly a fashion disaster.”

Remus Duke shrugged, spinning his hat on his finger. “They’re not that bad.”

“Of course you think that, you’re a fashion disaster yourself.”

Remus glared, elbowing his best friend in the side. Ethan just chuckled.

The two of were at work at their new jobs. It was the grand opening of the store that day.

The place was one of those vintage candy stores. Like, just imagine Bill’s Candy Shop from Willy Wonka. That was this place.

“The only good part of this is the bow tie,” Ethan said, straightening said tie.

“Not to mention the free candy we’ll probably get,” Remus added.

“I was talking about the uniforms. Of course the free candy’s good. Main reason I applied for this job.”

At that moment, there was a ring of a bell, signalling the door of the shop opening.

“First ever customer. Let’s go.” Ethan turned to his colleague. “Don’t say anything weird, okay? We want the customers to come back.”

“Fiiiiine...” Remus huffed, before both he and Ethan were distracted by the customer walking into view.

Oh god, he’s cute.

The customer had black hair with dyed blue streaks, and he wore glasses over sparkling sapphire eyes. He was a little soft around the middle, and was wearing a galaxy pattern dress. He was looking around the shop, almost in awe of all the confectionary on offer.

God, Ethan and Remus were so fucking gay.

After recovering from his gay panic, Ethan cleared his throat, getting the attention of the customer, who turned to them.

“Hi! Um, any way we can help you?”

“I’ll take your entire stock.”

Ethan blinked in surprise. “Huh?”

The customer flushed a little in embarrassment. “Oh, um, sorry. That was a joke. Sorry it wasn’t more clear...” He came up to the counter, looking up at the jars and packs of candy and chocolate on the shelves. “Um... Can I get two packs of Mike and Ikes, a pack of Red Vines, and... three Tony’s chocolate bars please?”

“Coming right up!” Remus smiled, going around and grabbing each of the treats off the shelves. As he did this, Ethan totalled up all the candy and gave the customer the price. The customer paid, and took the bag once Remus handed it to him.

“Thank you!” he smiled. Gosh, even his smile was adorable, how had the two employees not died from cuteness.

The customer turned, heading from the store. He took a chocolate bar from the bag, opening it and munching on it. He untied the leash of a husky sat outside, and walked away, the dog bounding just in front of him.

Remus and Ethan both sighed, leaning on the counter, watching him go. Though, Ethan didn’t take long to notice specifically where Remus was looking. “Are you checking out his ass?”

Remus nodded. “Yup. And damn, boi, he thicc.”

Ethan clapped him upside the head. “Stop being a perv. He won’t like you if you do stuff like that! He’ll want someone more... refined. Like myself.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Is this becoming a challenge? Who will win his heart first? Because I will win.”

“I beg to differ.”

The two glared at each other. It occurred to neither of them polyamory is a thing.

-

Logan pulled off the leash from the husky - Sirius, named for the Dog Star. Well, Logan said it was named after the Dog Star. His little brother insisted it was named after the Harry Potter character.

Speaking of his brother, Sirius ran off, bounding into the living room, which was followed by giggles. Logan smiled, going to the doorway. Thomas, Logan’s brother, was led on the ground, Sirius stood on him, licking his face. Logan whistled, and Sirius hopped off.

Logan scratched the dog’s head, before picking up one of the chocolate bars and one of the boxes of Mike and Ikes. He held them up. “Got you some treats, Tommy.”

Thomas sat up, smiling. He leapt to his feet, and ran over. “Gimmee!”

“Ah ah ah.” Logan held the candy too high for Thomas to reach. “Only after dinner, and if you do all your chores.”

“I’ve done them all!”

“All of them?”

“Yep!”

“Made your bed?”

“... Okay, maybe a forgot a couple.”

Logan chuckled. “Go get it done, then. I’ve got some homework to do, then I’ll get started on dinner.”

Thomas ran off, Sirius following him. Logan watched him go, before picking up his laptop and flopping on the couch. However, he found himself unable to concentrate on his work.

Those two employees at the candy store... Logan was definitely going back tomorrow.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides logan #remus sanders #sanders sides remus #deceit sanders #sanders sides deceit #intruloceit #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #candy store au #au #sanders sides au

[troutpopulation]

It Becomes A Chain (Sigma x reader) pt.2

A/N: pardon the terrible Dutch I used 100% Google translate for that. Also yay! Siebren is actually in the story now!

Present day

  "Alright! So, do we have any requests? Roses, bonsai, squash, anything you see." Your students were deep in thought, until one of them raised her hand.

"Yes, Darcy, go for it." The girl put her hand down.

"Can we do sunflowers today?" She asked. You nodded, smiled, and opened the drawer from the plastic shelf that sat on your countertop. It was labeled with a small card of a sunflower and the name printed in swooping ink. You plucked from it a single seed and pressed it between your palms. It took barely a moment but you felt a sprout. A small plant grew from your hands, rapidly unfurling into a full grown flower in your grasp. You gave it an approving smile before you plucked it from your hands and dropped it into the vase. The students watched with smiles. No matter how many times people saw you do this, it was always something to marvel at, like a magic trick. An incredibly practical magic trick that had its uses in feeding yourself, others, selling flowers, and in this case, drawing a still-life of a sunflower.

"Alright, we're going to draw for mm... Lets go for thirty minutes before we move on to water color." Despite all the jobs your powers have gotten you, you never abandoned teaching art workshops in your home. In fact, you found this was the perfect way to integrate them both. Shortly after your first encounter with your newfound abilities, you were rushed to the hospital by your neighbors. You were sent from facility to facility until someone who could actually help you manage your fate did so. Over the span of several months you learned control and tested the limits of your power. You could grow anything from trees to moss and soon decided that this was in fact a blessing rather than a curse. You began getting accustomed to replicating plants, and it quickly became a normal part of your daily life. Although, to this day you still had no idea how they came to be. Everybody including you and every scientists you'd consulted with were in the dark about the strange projectile that had exploded near your greenhouse. The question was a constant tug in the back of your mind.

You complimented your students' work as you opened your tablet and got to emails from commissioners and scientists alike. By now, the novelty of attention had worn off and you were quicker to say "no thank you" to researchers looking to build partnerships with you to utilize your powers. You had a few art commissions you bookmarked to get to later, and plenty of agricultural companies who wanted to negotiate prices for your services. One however, caught your attention. A laboratory studying outer space in The Hague wanted to pay for your flight and visit. They were interested in your status in the scientific community as a "self sustaining organism".

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. What a pretentious way to say 'hey, we know you can feed yourself and they want to know how to get astronauts to do that'. But then again, you could use a vacation. (Of course you knew this was professional but... Come on. They weren't going to keep you in the lab all day, right? You'd have the chance to go out and enjoy some light tourism. Plus it's a free flight and lodging.)

You decided to respond, going through all the usual formalities stating in the most corporate way possible that you were willing an excited to work with them in The Hague. You closed your laptop, twirling your pencil before tapping it to the paper. You felt like you owed science something, but science also owed something to you. You participated in countless research efforts, but not once could anyone replicate what happened to you. They couldn't even pinpoint how exactly it happened. You were beginning to believe that your willingness to contribute wasn't all because you cared about the advancements of science, but out of the sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, while they're doing blood samples and having you grow things for them, they'll be able to find out what it was that did this to you.

You made a face. It's not like you're asking to reverse it! You loved your powers. You spent far less on groceries, you felt great being able to feed people and plant trees. Life was great! You had no complaints! It's just... You really wanted to know. How did this happen? Why you?

You open the email back up and quickly send a follow up.

You ask if they can, at all, try to find out the origins of your mutation.

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

  Siebren sipped his coffee, narrowing his grey eyes. What had he written there? Whatever it was, it was scrawled so quickly and carelessly in the heat of a breakthrough that it was almost completely illegible.

He squinted hard, but the word became no clearer. He was jolted from his thoughts as a brisk knock sounded on the white door of his workspace.

"Ja?" He called, turning towards the entrance.

Yes?

"Jouwe koffie, professor." An intern shuffled inside, bringing him the extra caffeine he'd requested.

Your coffee, professor.

He thanked them and asked them for the latest happenings. He was partial to gossip, for otherwise, he'd probably be completely oblivious to anything going on. He stayed almost exclusively in his lab and couldn't resist rambling on any time somebody came in the ask him a question. A quiet moment like this was rare, and an excellent opportunity to catch up with his surroundings.

"We hebben een gast. Zijn naam is (y/n) (l/n), en hij komt uit Amerika." The intern, knowing this, was happy to comply. They informed him of their guest, and Siebren nodded along, sipping his drink.

We have a guest. His name is (y/n) (l/n) and he's from America.

"Iz dat zo? Om welke reden is hij hier?" Interested, the scientist raised an eyebrow.  The intern looked excited. They grinned, looking around, and leaned in to stage whisper.

Is that so? For what reason is he here?

"Dit klinkt vergezocht, maar ik hoor dat hij op commando en snel planten uit zijn lichaam kan laten groeien.." This bit made the astrophysicist choke a bit on his drink. He gave the intern a puzzled look.

This sounds far-fetched, but I hear he can grow plants from his body at will, and very quickly too.

His look of disbelief melted as he rationalized it in his brain. That sounded a little more than far fetched, it sounded like a flat out joke, but who was he to say anything? Here he was trying to harness the power of a black hole. In this facility, anything was possible. He still took it with a grain of salt, though. Perhaps this was a rumor. This place was prestigious and of good renown, but not immune to tall tales and stories being passed around. No place ever really was. He thanked the intern for the coffee and the update and they were quickly on their way to deliver a paper to another professor's office, leaving Siebren alone with his thoughts and research.

If that was a rumor, that was a very creative one. If not... well, then it'd be definitely something worth seeing.

He chuckled to himself. Oh, who was he kidding? That was silly.

He stared harder at his scrawled notes. Suddenly it hit him.

Ah, it had been a variable he's written. Sigma. He somehow got his wires crossed and wrote out its name rather than the symbol itself.

  ----------------------------

     You had touched down at the airport and went straight to work. You did the usual, live demonstrations, samples of every kind, etc. But between all the activity and the jet lag, you were exhausted. Too much to to do much more than admire the view from the hotel room. It was beautiful, and there were people walking about on the sidewalk below. You felt tempted by the cool breeze that rushed in from your open window.

Alright, just one walk and you'll head to bed.

  Elsewhere, Dr. Siebren de Kuiper had embarked on a similar path: a walk from the lab to his car parked all the way down the block.

Today had been long. It turns out that the rumors about the foreign man with the powers of botanical replication were true, and he had spent most of the day indisposed in the labs. Siebren strolled out and took a deep breath of the nighttime air. The sunset must have been lovely, if the dim wisps of fading sunlight behind buildings were anything to go off of. He kind of wished he'd hurried out of his office, as then he might have been able to watch it. That was one of the reasons he preferred to park so far away. The walks along the boulevard in the evening were exquisite.

On the downside, though, he had important papers with him to stuff into the back of his car and forget about, and the wind apparently decided it felt like picking up tonight. After it died down, he loosened his vice grip on his files, only for a sneaky breeze to take him by surprise and blow half the stack out of his grasp.

Siebren gasped and darted after them, pouncing on them and plucking them up from the pavement, muttering to himself. He turned to grab another before his hand touched not a paper, but another person.

He recoiled with a startled "oh" and his widened gray eyes attempted to make out the person in front of him.

"Ah, sorry," You handed his papers back to him. "You dropped these."

"Right, yes, thank y-" His smiled dropped as he spotted over your shoulder the last o his files. He tensed to make his way towards it, but the wind picked up before he could, and it whirled into the air, directly towards a channel of water that cut through the city.

Time seemed to go in slow motion as he stared horrified at his work about to be swallowed by the water.

He raised his arm, whispering a hapless "no" as it descended towards the rippling surface.

You lifted your hand, and in a second the paper was fluttering stagnant in the air.

Siebren couldn't register what just happened. There was a long, smooth stem protruding all the way from your palm, impaling his paper and keeping it in place. Slowly, the vine retracted into your skin, away from the water. When it got only a few feet long, you snapped it from your hand, turning it over to free the paper. You paused as you looked at it.

"Oh my God," You sputtered. "I'm so, so sorry I just- there's a hole in it now and I- I'm so sorry Oh God I really hope that wasn't important I'm so sorry."

"How did you do that?"

"I'm really really sorry, uh, I'm new here."

"How did you do that?"

"Ok not that we usually break people's stuff in America but- I- whatever, anyways I'm sorry."

You and Siebren stared at one another for many moments.

"Uh..." You panicked, holding out a hand to him. He tensed up, not quite recoiling but he did seem wary of the gesture after seeing how you'd just skewered his research paper. "Hi. I'm (y/n). I make plants."

Siebren could barely believe his luck.

#Sigma x reader #Siebren de Kuiper #Overwatch #x reader #writing #reader insert

[scige-archive]

welcome 2 my twisted mind ex dee ?

PREFERRED NAME — james uwu

PRONOUNS — she/they

AGE — 20

TIMEZONE — est

HOW OFTEN ARE YOU ONLINE? — everyday all day usually hjfdnkmg

HOW DID YOU HEAR OF WATERSHED? — i actually first found lockwood while going through the recommended blogs on mobile when you search up things via it (i think it was ‘new rp’ tht i searched) n then the next i checked they’d gone ovr to watershed n then there were Other Things bt i didnt end up joining until a few weeks or like a month later impulsively n now its been many months n im still here BJDNSKFMG love u guys

DISCORD — sniff #3644 where im also always online

OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA YOU’D LIKE TO SHARE — musing @svrgcnts​ n my pinterest is ‘big tid’ or offbrandsodapop uuuhh i dont think theres anything else!

MYER-BRIGGS — infp turned istp we call tht character growth

HP HOUSE — i honestly dont know anymore ive gotten all of the houses before bt ive just taken a test n i got slytherin so like :///

ZODIAC — aquarius!

DO YOU BELIEVE IN ASTROLOGY? — not to the point where it dictates who i like / dislike

DO YOU ENJOY ASTROLOGY? — ya im a slut for when things tell me what im supposed to be like bc i dont have a sense of identity

HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN YOU STARTED RPING ON TUMBLR — uh like 19 bt ive been rping since i was 10

WHAT YEAR WAS IT? — early 2018 so actually i might’ve been 18 for a lil bit DJNKFLG

NAME A RANDOM ROLEPLAY THAT STICKS OUT IN YOUR MEMORY — listen i’ve had many, many good experiences bt for some reason what came to mind first was a weird owner/slave smut rp tht i stumbled across (never joined bc im ... not like that) n i was just rly baffled by the concept even tho ik its a Thing bc i thought smut rps died out like in 2017 BJDNFKMG

WHAT WEIRD ANIMAL WOULD YOU HAVE AS A PET IF IT WAS REALISTIC — i want a fucking capybara

WHAT PET DO YOU GENUINELY CONSIDER GETTING SOMEDAY? — i want a cat even though im rly allergic to them

NAME THE FIRST SONG ON YOUR DISCOVER WEEKLY ON SPOTIFY OR THE FIRST SONG THAT COMES ON APPLE MUSIC / ITUNES SHUFFLE — the apocalypse made me brave by girlfriends

NAME A BOOK THAT YOU READ IN SCHOOL THAT YOU SURPRISINGLY LIKED — um probably like ,,, the crucible ,,,

NAME A BOOK YOU HATED THAT MOST PEOPLE LIKED — god i dont know i’m not hard to please bt i wont lie i also like ... didn’t finish half the books i was supposed to read in high school. of mice & men maybe ... i hated books that didn’t do much n just wrote a whole bunch of nothing even tho i like those books now ... i think bc they were for school ... outside of school i hated the hazelwood n i think that the grisha trilogy is a bit. weak. bt i love six of crows. n also the um. theres this one YA series tht i never read bt i can tell i dont like NJKSMDFFDG

WHAT TV SHOW DID YOU RECENTLY BINGE? WOULD YOU RECOMMEND IT? — schitt’s creek DSJKNFDGF um i’ve also been watching gossip girl a lot & also asoue & also also i just started watching um end of the f***ing world n its very good so ?? i watched the first episode of his dark materials n i liked it n i havent finished looking for alaska bt its also very good

WHAT FILM DID YOU LAST WATCH? DID YOU LIKE IT? — uuuhh i think it was scream tbh ??? and ya it was p swell

FAVOURITE QUOTE — im a slut for anne carson bt i cant name any quotes directly rn i have rocks for brains

LINK TO A VINE / TIK TOK / VIDEO THAT EXUDES YOUR ‘ENERGY’ — this immediately came to mind

DO YOU WRITE OUTSIDE OF RP? WHAT DO YOU WRITE? — i used to write outside of rp bt i havent in ages bt when i do its usually like modern magic / urban fantasy / whatevr those kinda elements n abt faeries bc i like faeries

THREE YOUTUBERS YOU STILL LOVE & TRUST — jenna marbles, micarah tewers, and uh ,,, claire frm bon apetit

A CELEBRITY CRUSH THAT JUST WON’T QUIT — cary elwes ... andrew scott ... anne hathaway ... first three tht came to mind

EVER MEET A CELEBRITY? SHARE YOUR STORY — no bt david dobrik was in miami and i was NOT and im UPSET bc i want his MONEY

WHAT’S YOUR PICTURE-PERFECT NIGHT? — i am not in pain. thats it thats all

A CONSPIRACY THEORY YOU KINDA BELIEVE IN — jeffrey epstein was murdered haha jk thats not a conspiracy theory thats FACTS

ARE ALIENS REAL? — ya sure why not

PLAY ANY PHONE GAMES? WHICH ONES? — lily’s garden please play im level 1241

PLAY ANY OTHER GAMES? WHICH ONES? — i played all the bioshock games n rly enjoyed them ... deponia the entire series which is still my favorite video game 2 this day

WHAT’S A FILM YOU LOVED WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG AND RECENTLY WATCHED, ONLY TO FIND OUT YOU DON’T ANYMORE — i never finished my rewatch of the golden compass bt thats just bc i didnt feel like finishing it uuuh ... i dont know i enjoy things too easily

DO YOU COLLECT ANYTHING? — buttons n seashells and rocks and flowers until theyre dead and then i collect dead flowers and then empty glass bottles that look kinda cool and jewelry boxes or tin containers and i used to kiss an index card every time i wore lipstick and kept it, i had over 100 filed away for no reason at all bt i lost them & then i also collect condoms :/

WHAT’S SOMETHING YOU WANT TO LEARN MORE ABOUT BUT YOU’RE TOO LAZY? — i wna learn how 2 make jewelry n like ,,, embroidery bt i know how to embroider i just wanna get back into it n i wna learn like. knowledge. academic stuff too bt im also too lazy and im just a dumb old horse so :/

THREE LANGUAGES YOU DON’T SPEAK, BUT WISH YOU COULD — italian n french n ig spanish too

MOVIE YOU’VE WATCHED MORE THAN 5 TIMES — shrek ? austin powers ? princess diaries / elle enchanted ?? halloweentown n all the sequels ??

NAME A FICTIONAL CHARACTER FROM TV/FILM/MOVIE/GAME/BOOK THAT YOU FIND YOURSELF PROJECTING ON / YOU RELATE TO — shawn spencer frm psych, veronica mars, penelope garcia frm criminal minds, mike myers’ cat in the hat, dr. evil frm austin powers bt also his son scott evil, scooby doo probably, daria ??? i relate to my dog bodhi :/ puddles the clown

IS THERE ANY MEDIA (BOOK/MOVIE/GAME/TV SHOW) YOU FEEL CHANGED YOU IN SOME WAY? — six of crows / fleabag / deponia theyve all made me cry before bt like. continuously cry.

DO YOU FOLLOW ANY SPORTS? WHO DO YOU ROOT FOR? — no.

HOBBIES BESIDES WASTING AWAY HERE? — um. redacted

PLUG A TV SHOW / MOVIE / BOOK / VIDEO GAME / ETC… YOU WISH MORE PEOPLE WOULD CHECK OUT — big fish directed by tim burton go stare at danny devito’s bare ass do it do it do it i never even finished the movie i dont think BJNSKDMLFG

TEAM EDWARD OR JACOB? (IF NOT APPLICABLE, WHO DO YOU LIKE MOST IN THE TWILIGHT SERIES) — edward

LAST MOVIE SEEN IN THEATRE — um thts rly hard bc i dont know bt i have a ticket so let me just check ,,, the joker i went n saw the joker

DO YOU STILL READ FOR FUN? — occasionally bt i dont have motivation so

IF SO, WHAT ARE YOU CURRENTLY READING? — n/a BDKFJ

ON A SCALE OF 1-10, HOW MUCH DID YOU HATE FILLING THIS OUT? – 5 bt thats just bc im not feeling gr8 today

#wshtask #wshtask001

[hiimaprofessionalfangirl]

A list of wild quotes from my freshman year

It’s that time again kids

“WRONG”

“Why is it wrong?” “Because it’s wrong?”

“Never get in a rotten egg fight kids”

“THERES A FUCKING TREE BRANCH IN THE LIVING ROOM”

“Look how veiny my leaf is”

“Coffee is my dad”

“Ariel castrate and the Austrian dickhead”

“Sleep is just death without the commitment”

“Is this a vine?”

“I ate some ice cream and then threw up in an alley way”

“I bleached my hair on a bet”

“Do snakes jump”

“We’re gonna watch the magic school bus”

“She did not consent to that!”

“Is it weird that when I hurt I hurt”

*eats a donut I found under a desk*

“We’re struggling together”

“ooo it’s almost time to skedaddle”

“Grass is a superfood”

“THEY WERE LESBIAN LOVERS MIGUEL”

“Do moths have penises?”

“We only stan cardboard paper in this town.” “Aka school fries”

“Give me Hayley kiyoko or give me death”

“I’m a pretty cool error too”

“Time can eat me”

“I’m as straight as a dick”

“19 isn’t a real number”

“3 is evil”

“Weird flex but ok” (coming from our 22yr old student teacher who didn’t understand memes)

*faintly in a silent hallway* “PUSSY”

“God is actually an alien, change my mind”

“You promised me you’d throw me out the window”

“Passing period is rebirth”

“Science can meet me in the pit”

“She has 2008 eyebrows”

“What’re you gonna do, send dick pics through audio”

“bro omg nihilism radiates off of u its inspiring”

“I threw up twice, I just wanted to let you know”

“Tell me the secrets of the universe u little knock off kermit”

“so u have a frog in ur head and I have a demonic entity, that’s pretty fuckin wild dude”

“The bubble just suicide bombed two other bubbles”

“Stop hyperventilating into a glove”

“Can u calm down I’m trying to eat my cereal”

*opens the door* “no”

“My teacher drop kicked a mouse” (coming from my cousin who goes to a super elite private catholic school)

“A sweet loving hardass, but a hardass nonetheless.”

“Seductively bites yogurt”

“I don’t wanna work as an exorcist ew”

“I guess it wasn’t traffic”

“I don’t care about your job making fake eggs in the 70s”

“Chug 15 olive oils”

“You’re invalid as a human being”

“I just wanna astral project myself into the sun”

“Can I uninstall my teeth”

“I’m going to remove the roof of my mouth” *takes out retainer*

“I’m craving both death and Oreos right now”

“Can you strangle a fish”

“Honey your dick is holding you back”

“I want wall”

“I was proud of you until you finished your sentence”

“Aside from wanting to uninstall my teeth now I want to uninstall my legs”

“Welcome to the calculator game”

“Last hour I got an open container of applesauce thrown at me”

“He looks like a compacted adult”

“Hot food for TIM”

“Did my mom drug my lasagna”

“What just happened?” “My retainer fell out”

“Why are there beans in my chair”

“Shakespeare was a wild card”

“I want a full complement of death”

“Mr Rice you’re a skinny legend”

“Wack? I haven’t heard that since I was in middle school”

“Carrot got yoted”

“Devoreing”

*turns around* “ms Elliott looks like a turtle”

“Purchase one cancer”

“A plateau of a person”

“I’m gonna drink stem cells”

“Is I’m too depressed for this an excuse”

“Sparkling water is just cursive water”

“No one cares about your friends stupid leg nipple”

“If you put wings on your snake rat it a goose”

“My eyeballs have low render distance”

“Ah good, no new bloodstains”

“Bruce banner and all 7 of his PhDs are disappointed in me for not paying attention in biology”

“I think Shakespeare had a foot fetish”

“Instead of marrying Romeos corpse she could marry Paris’s corpse”

“I stole a ring pop from the teacher for you, if that isn’t true love I don’t know what is”

“If your feet come off you’re out”

“You’re thick and not in the good way”

“Is that your answer to everything? Use the knife”

“yeet yeet skittly skeet”

“my mike and Ike’s were definitely laced with acid”

“2 + 1 is 3 you’re stupid”

“We’re gonna 2v1 Shakespeare in a Denny’s parking lot at 3am”

“Real homies eat each other’s legs”

“Ok we have a definitive answer, it is necrophilia”

“why isn’t there a copy and paste button for paper”

“Quit throwing it you ding dong”

“Why does the door sound like bagpipes”

“Are you gonna die in my class or something”

“Just so you know I hear in 4 dimensions”

“Why do I always get stuck with the Texas bitches”

“Fuck my math class this is purgatory”

“You would be a door knob”

“I wanna be a chair”

“That just makes my insides happy”

“I smell,,,,,,,,,,,, a Democrat”

“I found a baby!”

“I’d be the Michael Phelps of doggy paddling”

“Shows before hoes”

“Mother I come to you in my time of need, I need money”

“Big boy posters”

“He just yeeted a bike”

“What kind of 3rd grader insult”

“I play croquet!”

“I cry into my skull”

“He has more hair than brain cells”

*as we enter our history class* “Hello Sophia squared!”

“then it’s just pork squared”

“Elbows are the knees of your feet”

“sounds like mentos for demons”

“You can delete my joints but you can’t delete me”

“I’m predisposed to getting my joints deleted”

“He looks like fucking fletcher from ant farm”

“he wants to be a fuckboi but he’s actually a whore”

“We’re all eboys inside”

“The wind is blowing all the hair I don’t have”

*blows whistle aggressively*

*blows whistle* “I bought it off eBay”

“Switch bitches”

*whistle blows* “YOU SUCK”

“Good job mckell you made it to a base” “oh fuck you”

“You have not lived until you’ve had a whole stalk of rhubarb up your ass!”

“THE GOVERNMENT”

“If I get kidnapped and the guy is hot just diagnose me with Stockholm syndrome already”

“I am just joints”

“School can vore itself”

“Face like teeth”

“I’m short, unathletic and unwilling to try”

*after getting hit in the face* “are you ok” “no but my glasses are and that’s all that matters”

“your virginity or every single one of your toes”

“Thanos broke my dick”

“I’m sorry I have tits”

“Maybe the ball and trash can have magnets in them, and that’s why it keeps landing on the trash can”

“Dumbass with the fuckin sandals”

“It’s Han Han tiddy croissant, get it right”

“My name is Shaka oovka and I know god”

“But this is raspberry pez”

“Gimme your elbows”

*to my mom* “Geometry is propaganda”

“It’s tissue paper not crack you idiot”

“Jack owes the government all of its money”

“You want my nuts”

“I’d like to interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for an imitation of jack”

“because the government is tired of me being gay on the internet so they shut down my phone”

“Don’t lick my son Annora”

“I set a playground on fire”

“Stacy’s mom, damn them tiddies”

“Layla just dipped on me and made out with a 17 year old in the bathroom

*sits down* “I look like a horse girl”

“Freddie Mercury died from cooties”

“WAIT BECAUSE OF THE RULER INCIDENT”

tagging @eggtissue so she can see our beautiful creation

#school stuff #high school #funny quotes #a shit ton of quotes from my first year if high school #soph memes #soph quotes #memes

[bredsticon-blog]

title: the alternative

part: one (saint or sinner)

desc: you have died. you weren't an extraordinary person when you were alive--you made a few little sins and a few little good deeds, but it's not enough to land you in heaven nor hell. so the reaper gives you two choices: be in limbo forever, or serve equal years in heaven and hell. well, you choose the latter...

tags: angel!nick & demon!zion love triangle (or not? wink), heaven and hell au (yes ik purgatory exists but it has different purposes for this series), ooc (on purpose, i swear), sfw (as in, no smut), gore, violence (i mean, you're in hell...), cussing, murder, mentions of: rape, abuse, addiction (alcohol, LSD, heroin, uhh everything else), mental issues (depression, suicide), and death in general. gender/sex neutral reader (as always) and humor to lighten the mood

word count: 2k

notes: it isn't nearly as scary as the tags make it seem, i promise. i spent a l o n g time on the promo art for this (which imma post LATER) so uhh please read :'( haha yes i WILL finish writing the fma!austin fic and make the part 2 for ¡quake! & ~the wave~ but my ass is still collecting gifs and cleaning up plot holes sksksk and on the 2.76% chance the boys read this: hi follow me im @/bredsticon on ig, i make quality content and be more active on tumblr please we love you

You don't remember dying.

You're dead, and you don't remember dying.

Perhaps, in another life, you once thought that death accompanied a special feeling: life flashing before your eyes, lights out, everything over before your last breath escapes your lungs. But this is... this is slow. So slow. You're still on earth. Floating.. somewhere. Nowhere else. You see the world, all of it. Stars twinkle in the mist. The world around you is gray and dark. You watch your home fall apart. Every crack and shake is in full detail, and, dimly, you watch the sprouting of vines and weeds in its place. The weeds brush heads as they cluster your old house, your old neighborhood, your old country, your old everything.

You're old.

Breathless doesn't begin to describe it. You don't have lungs. You don't have... you don't. You just don't. You are nowhere. You are nothing. You don't exist.

Someone waves inside of you.

What the—

"Hello, Soul One-Hundred Thirty-Three Billion, Seventy-Five Million and Sixty-Five. You're late."

An NYC accent? You're from—

"Now that's a mouthful. I'll just call you Rosebud. See, you were supposed to cross over..." A watch ticks inside your... your form? You? "...millennia ago. Five millennia, in fact."

The voice throws a powder on you. Something blooms inside you, and you fall to the ground.

You gasp—holy shit, you can gasp. You move your head around. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, you have muscles, you have form, you can move. You exist.

The voice has a form, too. He looks like you: human. Flaming blue hair, khaki-colored skin with reddish-pink polka dots and marks. He wears modern clothes: a bright yellow vest and green pants. And glowing. He's like a painting. Human, kinda.

You gape at him. This doesn't exist. This can't exist. You thought you'd be nothing forever. But now you're something and that's something and the world around you is still murky but it's something and oh my God. Oh my fucking God. What happened to you? What happened to your home? Why aren't you dead?

The form smiles at you. "Be careful with mentioning the Master Creator so much. They're listening, y'know. They can tell when you're talking about Them."

He offers you a hand. Shaking, you take it. You wobble so hard you grab his shoulder, and he pats your wrist.

"Relax, Rosebud, we're gonna go up now. Take my hands." Gently, he takes your hand off his shoulder and interlocks your fingers together. You close your eyes as he pulls you close.

Once you open them, you're no longer on Earth.

You're in an office.

Vaguely relaxing piano music plays in the background. The walls gleam "eggshell white" (whatever that means), and copy-and-paste potted plants commiserate in corners, on shelves, and on top of desks. Rows and rows of cubicles line up in front of you, complete with ancient computers, loud clicking, and early morning groans of "I need more coffee, for fu- fun's sake!" A vending machine and a water cooler stand behind you, with banged-up tables interspersed between those.

Someone rises out of a cubicle. His skin is pale, but his hair is dark. "Reaper Honoret Jr.! Is that—oh my goodness, is that the stray? You did it! It took a few millennia, but you did it!"

Honoret Jr. grimaces. "My bad, Dad. The soul blended in so well, it took me a while... my readings showed complete neutrality. It's like there's no one there." The reaper looked back at you. "I only caught a flicker. Right now, I can't—"

His dad chuckles. "Not Dad. It's Reaper Honoret Sr. to you." He winks. "I'm kidding, y'know how they get around here."

He comes forward and wraps his arms around the boy, then unlatches. Without Honoret Jr's support, you fall to the ground, so you watch as he holds his son's shoulders. "Your bad? What do you mean? I'm proud of you. So, so proud. You're the only one who could even—actually, wait."

He turns to face the cubicles. "Reapers of Thanatos & Co., guess who just caught the stray!"

The clicking stops.

Someone coughs. "You're joking, right?"

"Absolutely not. In fact, it's behind me, right now."

Chairs scoot on scratchy carpet as the reapers of Thanatos & Co. nearly jump out of their cubicles to see you. Forty reapers dressed in some manner of business attire speed walk in your direction. One pushes Honoret Jr. out of the way—his dad has to catch him before he falls on his face.

When they see you, they stop. They start staring at the air around you. They sniff like blood hounds.

After a pause, a reaper with large eyebrows turns to another, eyes wide. "I think... I can't... I literally..."

The other nods. "Same here. Reaper Honoret Sr. isn't lying."

The crowd murmurs in agreement.

A reaper with short pink hair raises his hand. When no one calls on him, he puts it down and mutters something about being new. "Wait, if Reaper Honoret Sr. found the stray, shouldn't we tell the Grand Reaper about it first?"

Once more, the crowd murmurs in agreement.

The eyebrow reaper stares at you—no, not at you. Into you. Like you're not even there. "Before that, we need to know who found it. Reaper Honoret Sr., did you find it? We need someone to congratulate."

He grins. "Nope! My son did." He shook his boy's shoulders.

The reaper raises a brow, then gives the blue-haired reaper a look. "Oh. Well, uhm, congratulations."

The crowd weakly claps. Good job... mhm... congratulations, Junior... and then they disperse back into their leather spin chairs.

Honoret Jr. turns to you and makes a face. "Sorry about that. Office drama. Can't escape it, even in this world."

He doesn't look like a reaper to you. No black cloak, no creepy aura, no skeleton fingers. Kind, colorful, couldn't be a reaper. Nope. Impossible. None of this is.

"You're not believing a lot of things, I know. The first few days are the hardest." He gifts you with another smile. "You'll get there, I promise. I'm here to help.

"Name's Edwin, by the way. You've been calling me Honoret Jr. and that just gives me middle school flashbacks. No thanks."

You can't even make a proper facial expression to react to that. You can't formulate words—or even walk without Edwin holding your hand. He's reading your thoughts, at least. You're basically a vegetable.

He shrugs. "Give it a few hours, Rosebud. The vegetable'll wear off. Your body's just adjusting to this plane. No shame."

You can't speak, so you just think of the word: thanks. My name is—

"Oh, I know what your name is. I've been searching for you for five millennia. I'd be a horrible reaper if I didn't know."

He extends a hand. "Speaking of vegetable and horrible reaper, I bet you're hungry. You're also naked. Let's fix that."

-

Reapers need to eat, surprisingly. Edwin leads you through a myriad of hallways with the exact same paintings and potted plants (this is disgustingly easy to get lost in, you think. Edwin agrees) until you reach the break room. It takes you an hour.

No one's in there except you two. Edwin gave you some of his clothes (kept in another room), so you're wearing a red fit with a black vest and a lime green beanie. He tried to offer his matching ski mask, but you managed to mentally shout "No!" before he put it away. You don't mind wearing his stuff, but you wonder what that could imply. Do reapers...? Actually, you don't wanna think about that.

The break room curves up into a sparkling, plastic chandelier. The rest of the room accommodates a fridge plastered in posters, a microwave, and a dirty coffee maker paired with beige countertops. A pile of paper plates and utensils decorates the left countertop, while a sink occupies the right end. Island tables take up the rest of the center, leaving room for vending machines in the back.

Edwin scrunches his nose. "Who's bummy ass forgot to wash the coffee pot? Ew." He examines it, then starts washing the dishes.

He looks back at you. "You can go raid the fridge. Just don't touch the lunch boxes or uh—bento boxes, I think. Those are Reaper Porter's, and he will get very mad if you touch his bento. I did that once, so he threw a fork at me then said I messed with his feng shui."

Edwin mutters something about unseasoned chicken as he continues scrubbing coffee stains.

You stand up. Your walk is wobbly at best, and you feel like a pile of jello—you're weak in the knees, like jello. But you're getting there. Its better than before. At some point in your hour-long journey to the break room, poor Edwin had to carry you. You felt bad, but at least he's strong. Maybe it's a reaper thing.

You stumble to the fridge. Posters and dates and schedules cover the surface, but you brush past them to find what truly matters: the food.

Reaper office food tastes just as bland as human office food. How sad.

You find that your body works just like it used to. You're hungry, you can feel pain, and you're starting to move. It's like you never died. And now you're in a huge office full of slightly-glowy people who call themselves Reapers and also can't sense you, which is a concept you still don't understand. Or maybe you didn't die? Maybe someone stirred some LSD in your drink? And this is all... a major... acid... trip...

You blink, then pinch yourself. Nope. You're 'swell.

Edwin pulls out a chair. "Now that we're done with the basics, Rosebud, we need to get you registered. You're a bit of a weird case, but you're not too too special. Just uncommon."

He pauses. "Well, actually, you might be a little more special than that. Just a tad."

You give him a look. Something builds in your throat.

"What the fuck?"

He giggles. "Those are your first words on this plane? I—"

"No, seriously. What. The. Fuck." You sound like a cheese grater but you don't care. "I literally have no idea what's going on. I died, I think, then I watched mankind die too as the Earth turned into dandelions, then you went inside of me and threw some pixie dust to make me come back again, suddenly I'm in a 90s sitcom office and I'm naked which literally no one told me about until everyone else saw me as bare as the day I was born and—"

Edwin pats your hand. "All right, all right, let it out, let it out. I'll explain everything. It's just really long." He rubs the back of his neck. "And we're kinda on a time crunch here."

"A time crunch. When it took us an hour just to get a snack."

"Yes, a time crunch. We have about two more hours to get you registered before you become tied to this plane. Then you'll have to become a reaper, like me, and you don't wanna become a reaper." He bites deeply into his peanut butter and banana sandwich. "Shit's hard."

"I can't even—"

"Mhm." He says through a mouthful of peanut butter. "I'm rellay sorreh you're goineh frough thif. I geh how you feel. Eferyone dehs."

He swallows. "We all started out alive. No one's been here since the beginning. Except for some of the seraphim, I guess. But the rest of us? We just humans the Master Creator decided to gift. You're not alone in this. I went through the same bullshit as you. I get it."

You bow your head down. Your thoughts are too jumbled to feel actual anger. "Thanks, Edwin."

"You honestly deserve better, but no problem." He stands up and wipes his hands on a napkin. "Imma clean up after myself, so you can get a head start. We do only have two hours." He yanks you out of the chair. Still chewing, you watch as Edwin shoves you out the break room.

"Wait—hold up—wh—I don't know where I'm supposed to—"

He grins. "You will! Your senses will guide you."

"What— more vague shi—" and the door slams.

#HI SORRY FOR MY FUCKING HIATUS #kinda its been like 3 days 💀💀💀💀 #im writing more now! i have shit queued UP for yall #prettymuch #edwin honoret #nick mara #zion kuwonu #nick carter 🌚 #daddy long legs #fics #prettymuch imagines #prettymuch imagine #pretttymuch fics #prettymuch fanfic #prettymuch fanfics #yes im including the versions w and w/o an s #im tryna get NOTES. #nick mara x reader #zion kuwonu x reader #nick mara x reader x zion kuwonu #zion kuwonu x reader x nick mara #zick love triangle #nion love triangle #this first chap might look fun and fresh but WHEW golly it gets bad #i mean mentally #angel!nick mara #demon!zion kuwonu #yall will meet zion and nick soon #i just like having long intros 🌞🌞

[akingsfool]

The Basement pt. One

halloween fic cuz why not

every week y’all might be getting a new fic for halloween

warnings: suicide mention, death mention, language (no one dies it’s just part of the background)

~

Race was walking down the street, Jack and Smalls by his side, and Crutchie was being carried by Jack. Race couldn’t wait. Medda was letting them go wherever they wanted this Halloween, and they planned on going to the abandoned house just a block away from their house. It was a perfect day for it too. The leaves were orange, yellow, and brown, and most had fallen off their trees. The air was cool and the wind added a perfect touch. Tonight was a good night to wander into an abandoned building.

Alright now hold on. It’s important that you know the whole story. So let’s go back to just the day before.

…

Race and his friends were eating lunch, like usual. They were telling each other what they were doing for Halloween. Race, Jack, and Smalls didn’t have anything planned. Crutchie was going to hang out with Elmer and JoJo to watch some Halloween movies, and they didn’t want to ruin Crutchie’s day. So, they were left without something to do. That is, until Albert suggested something.

“Why don’t you go check out that abandoned house that's a, like, a block away?” Albert sipped his sprite, looking at Jack and Race. “Tomorrow’s one of the scariest nights of the year, and that house looks super fucking creepy.”

“We should do that,” Jack nodded, staring blankly at the table. “Why is it abandoned anyway?”

“You haven't heard?” Mike asked, looking astounded. Seriously? They live a block away and have never heard anything about it?

“Do you want to know?” Ike asked, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. Jack, Smalls, and Race looked at each other, then shrugged. “Ok, so, way back in 1763, the house was built. This dude was like, crazy rich. The walls were kinda like a dark red, and the walls were accented in gold. How do you even paint with gold? Anyway, this guys name was Alexander. It was him, his wife Victoria, their son Ezekiel, and their daughter Mary. They had two maids, but I was never able to find their names.”

“Wait, why?” Race asked.

“I don't know,” Ike shrugged, “I guess people back then just didn’t want people to know about their maids. So, when Mary was 11, she was walking down the steps to come to the living room. It was said that one of the maids pushed her down the stairs, snapping her neck and she died of her injuries. The family didn’t want people knowing about their daughter’s tragic death, so they said she died of an illness and locked the maid in the basement.”

“Why wouldn’t they like, arrest the maid?” Smalls asked. It probably would have stopped future problems.

“I have no clue,” Ike sighed, “about three years later, Ezekiel caught a fever and died. The mother, Victoria, was so broken up about this that she barely left the house, and swore to never have a kid again. Alexander started drinking and was almost constantly drunk. The maid, who thought of Ezekiel as a son, lost her mind. Another maid was hired to keep up with housework. The maid who lost her mind wound up killing both Alexander and Victoria, but the other maid had run before she got to her. The maid ended up jumping out the window after she killed Alexander and Victoria.”

“Yeah,” Mike nodded, “it was sold a few years later, in 1798, by a husband and wife. They were happy. It was said that the happy relationship quickly grew toxic. The wife hung herself at the top of the stairs. The husband sold the house. It was bought and sold over and over. The families that bought it, someone always died. Eventually, people stopped buying it. I’m tellin ya, that house is cursed.”

Race nodded, “sounds cursed. Alright, it has been decided. We’re going.” Race slung his bag over his shoulder and stood up, getting ready to head to his locker. As soon as he turned around, he bumped into a shorter boy. He didn’t look familiar, he must have been new. Before he could apologize, the kid apologized and walked off, not looking Race in the eye.

…

And now you’re all caught up. So, let’s get back to the story.

Medda greeted them at them at the door, telling them to get their homework done before dinner. Race was going to, but he couldn’t. He stayed up late the night before and researched the house they were going to. He checked websites, historical sites, social media, everywhere he could think of. There was so much about it. But he couldn’t find out what happened to that maid they put in the basement.

Jack, Critchie, and Smalls were in Race’s room. Jack was upside down on he top bunk bed, and Crutchie and Smalls was on the bottom. Race was telling them about the house, giving them random bits of information as he went along.

“Kids, come get dinner!” Medda shouted. All four of them went as fast as they could down the steps, tripping over one another. They all sat down and started eating as fast as they could. “Hey, slow down. I know you’re excited but everything’s scarier when it’s dark,” Medda laughed. “I forgot to tell you three, but a friend of mine moved over from Brooklyn with her two foster kids. I told her you three could show them around, help them adjust. Their about your age, take them with you to that house. Who knows, it might be fun.”

Race sighed and nodded. As long as he could still go to the house, he was fine with it. A few minutes later and Jack, Smalls, and Race were pulling on their hoodies and shoving their phones into their pockets, heading out to find the new kids. Race grabbed an extra hoodies, just in case.

“Medda said that it was that one house with the roses planted out front,” Jack sighed, trying to go around the tiny trick-or-treaters. The roses were the first thing they saw. They were dying and weren’t as bright. The second thing they saw were the two brown haired kids on the porch. They were short, and one of them looked familiar to Race. Why did he look so familiar?

“Dude, I think that’s the kid that ran into me yesterday,” Race smacked Smalls’ arm.

“Ok, ow,” Smalls kicked at Race’s ankle, but Race moved and Smalls ended up kicking Jack.

“Dude, watch it!” Jack rubbed his leg and slowly approached the house. Race and Smalls followed. The new kids looked over at the three, the short boy stood at the steps, his sister a foot behind him. “Uh, hey. I’m Jack, and this is my brother Race, and that’s Smalls,” Jack grinned.

“I’m Tex, and this is Spot,” the girl grinned, putting her hands into the pocket of her hoodie.

“Ready to go?” Smalls asked, already turning around to head off. “Come on, let’s get going. We’re losing moonlight people!” Jack laughed and followed his sister to the street, Tex following close behind.

“Sorry for running into you yesterday, by the way,” Race grinned as he and Spot rushed over to join the other three.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t paying attention,” Spot sighed, rubbing his arms to warm them up. It was a little chilly out, and Spot was wearing a shirt with no sleeves. What happened to his sleeves? Did he leave them in Brooklyn? Where were they?

Race tried not to pay attention to the shivering boy on his left. And it seemed like Spot was trying to go unnoticed. Tex looked back at them, and smiled.

“Spot Conlon, are you cold?” she folded her arms against her chest, “I never thought I’d see the day where Spot Conlon was proven wrong.”

“Shut up, Tex,” Spot rolled his eyes, “I’m fine.” Tex rolled her eyes and shook her head. Race quickly untied the hoodie he had around his waist and held it out to the shorter boy. Spot looked at the bright purple hoodie, then at Race.

“It’s only gonna get colder,” Race shrugged, “just thought you’d want it.” Spot sighed and pulled the hoodie over his head. The hoodie was to big, and it looked like he was swimming in the fabrick. Jack led the way into the woods, following a path to where the house was said to be. Finally, finally, they reached the house.

“Anyone who goes in here refuses to talk about it after,” Race grinned as he pushed the gate open and stepping onto the dying grass. “Apparently what they experience in here is so terrifying that one kid was almost scared to death.” Race walked across the grass and up to the porch like it was nothing. The grass was extremely tall. The house was run down and vines were growing everywhere. Race could see a hole in the roof, letting light into the house.

Race grinned and was about to knock on the door just for fun, but someone grabbed his hood and yanked him back just a bit.

“Are you insane?” Spot asked, “If knock to hard and that door just might fall off it’s hinges! Does no one in Manhattan have common sense?”

“Hey, I have common sense!” Race protested, causing Jack and Smalls to shout that he doesn’t. And he didn’t. Not much, anyway. “Well, it seemed like a good idea.” Spot sighed and pushed the door open. To the right was the living room, furniture dusty and a chandelier laying shattered on the floor. To the left was the dining room, a table broken in half and chairs rotted and thrown across the room. Directly in front of them was the staircase, leading both upstairs and downstairs.

Race pointed to the top of the stairs, “a woman hung herself there, and Mary died at the end of this staircase.” Then he pointed to the living room, the couch closest to the fireplace. “Right there is where Alexander was stabbed to death, and Victoria was supposedly stabbed upstairs. Oh, and Ezekiel’s room is upstairs too.”

“Well then,” Tex sighed, nodding her head, “let’s go upstairs. Spot, why don’t you and Race go to the room where Victoria died, and we’ll go to the room where Ezekiel died. That way we cover more area of the house and still be out of here by sunrise. Just- record it or something.” The five of them headed upstairs, but went two seperate directions. Race opened the door to Ezekiel’s room. There was a normal, twin sized bed, and a baby’s crib that looked like it was from the early 1800s. A few toys were thrown around. For a childs room, it was huge.

Spot wandered into the room, kicking at a tower of blocks the was stacked in the middle of the room. He flopped down on the bed, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Race pulled out his phone and started recording, hoping to catch something supernatural on camera. He went through the clothes in the dresser, and messed around with the childrens toys. Nothing really happened. Spot eventually got off the bed and went to one of the two doors, and opened both of them. One was an old fashioned bathroom, and the other was a closet. Well, maybe? There were crates in the way, but it looked like one.

Race went into the bathroom and started messing around. He could hear Spot move the crates.

“Ew, Race, don’t touch me,” Spot said, and Race could practically hear him shudder. Race looked at the doorway of the bathroom.

“Uh, Spot,” Race cautiously walked out of the bathroom, looking at the crates on the ground, “I didn't touch you.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Spot tossed another crate out, almost hitting Race with it.

“Spot, I’m serious,” Race kicked at one of the wooden crates, and the side caved in. “I was in the bathroom. Besides, I couldn’t get over there if I tried. You blocked my way.” Spot looked over at Race and shrugged.

“Maybe it was a ghost,” the short boy grinned. “Alright it’s clear. Woah, dude come look at this.” Race kicked crates out of his way and stood behind Spot. At first he didn’t see anything. Spot had used the flashlight on his phone to light up the wall. The word ‘help’ was written in red paint. Well, Race hoped it was red paint.

“Spot! Race! Let’s go downstairs!” someone, which Race was assuming was Smalls, shouted. Spot and Race glanced at each other and shrugged. The two closed the door behind them and jogged down stairs. It was time to explore the basement.

~

@booksbroadwayandbagels

#newsies #newsies fanfic #race #spot #newsies fanfiction #suicide mention #death mention #spooky #halloween fanfic #finch writes stuff

[gargoylebeelee]

uwu

1. Would you rather an anime or tv show adaptation of CDF?

  2. If our mountain boys (and girl, perhaps a little person. And maybe throw a steve in there too) were humans, what jobs would they have? 

 3. In a rock band AU, who’s our lead singer and why? (Mika may have had singing lessons, but can he really pull off rock?) 

 4. What iconic vine best describes your favourite character? 

 5. Let’s see how y’all imagine your top 3 favourite characters looking like in real life. (Just add pictures or the name )

 6. Do we hate Steve or do we try to justify his actions? If so, what justifications are being made?

 7.  What music would Evanna listen to?

 8. If there was one additional vampire power that the princes got, what would you make it and why?

 9. Who is left responsible for Darius/who is his mentor?

 10. Who is your least favourite prince and why? 

-

1) anime

2) Engineer Gavner is the only good hc I ever made, he loved Alicia’s stories.

If we’re going by time periods, Creps would’ve probably died as a kid, Kurda maybe a nurse. Arra would kill men for fun and sell poison to women with abusive husbands.

3) rock band with steve as the frontman, he’s out of his mind and can’t sing but he is just loopey enough and as much of an arsehole as every other rock singer.

4) vine dead rip

5) Darren, round head, massive eyesbags and shitty bowlcut

  Evra, his scales don’t go all over, the stop at his joints and around his mouth, he also has a blonde mullet 

Debbie has plaits that lead into a ponytail and those hipster 2014 style round glasses.

6) book 1 steve is 11 and got called disgusting by his idol and spat on. His bestie Darren almost killed him then ran away with the life steve wanted so bad. Darren had everything, all steve had was vampires and Darren and now he had neither. Everything after book 1, nah fuck that guy.

7)mitski and rain asmr

8) they get teleportation but don’t tell anyone so the other vampires just think the flit really really fast.

9) Darius prolly got raised by vancha, like he was the only other person there, and vancha would also be raising those twins so he’d need an assisstant. 

10) not to be controversial (ik how yall feel about mika) but I never really connected with many of the princes. I’d say Kurda but he never made it, so prolly Darren. lol.