#but y’know what they say about dead horses

[lumelton]

using instagram for the first time after being on tumblr for so long is so weird ‘cause it’ll be like

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twitter screenshot that I have seen on tumblr

a series of tumblr screenshots

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reddit screenshot of a tumblr post about a twitter screenshot

the entirety of a tumblr post copy pasted over an *aesthetic* photo of some mountains

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[loveinhawkins]

The RV careens out of the trailer park and hits the open road with what pretty much amounts to ‘all speed, no grace.’ The turn Steve makes is, quite frankly, abysmal; he’s sure that if his driving instructor could see him now, the poor man would be weeping in distress.

Yet his passengers erupt into cheers as they pass the Leaving Hawkins sign, like he’s pulled some kind of James Bond move.

And, for all his insistence on being the absolute antithesis to so-called ‘jock culture’, Eddie rushes over to the driver’s seat, starts squeezing Steve’s shoulder with decidedly jock-like exuberance.

“Holy shit, holy shit, that was so fucking cool, Harrington.”

Oh, he’s definitely broken through the depression stage of the ‘finding out there’s an alternate dimension in Hawkins’ journey—landing firmly in the fuck it, might as well have some fun stage.

Steve could tell they’d reached that point even before the goddamn ‘big boy’ comment, when Eddie had taken one look at the Michael Myers mask, looked Max dead in the eye and said, “This is gonna be. So fuckin’ stupid. Let’s do it.”

Steve goes through a few seconds more of having his shoulder pummelled before saying, “Dude, you’re doing a shitty job at being undercover, stay down.”

“Like, do you have any idea,” Eddie says breathily, as if Steve hasn’t spoken, “just how perfect that was? That was, God, a childhood dream fully—”

“You dreamed of stealing an RV?” Steve says dubiously.

“Not in such crude literal terms, no. C’mon, Harrington, you must’ve had an imagination once—”

“Hey!”

“—didn’t you ever dream of, like, daring escapes, pulling the sword outta the stone, all that shit?”

Steve thinks about it. “I mean,” he says, “when I was a kid, I just kinda… climbed trees and stuff.”

Eddie sighs as if he can’t decide whether Steve’s done something especially annoying or endearing. “Of course you did.”

They reach a stop sign and Eddie finally flops into the passenger seat, facing Steve like he’s sitting side saddle on a horse.

“So,” Steve says, “I take a right after this, yeah?”

“Mm-hmm, well remembered, Mr Getaway Driver.”

Steve scoffs, glances over—finds Eddie framing him with his index finger and thumb, like a director trying to capture the perfect shot.

“James Dean,” Eddie says authoritatively, dropping his hands.

“What?”

“Was tryin’ to figure it out, your whole look, you know? Very Rebel Without a Cause.”

“Okay,” Steve says, “but I have a cause, we all do.”

Eddie just blinks at him, and Steve chuckles.

“You, idiot.”

“Oh.”

Steve has a moment to appreciate the way Eddie’s eyes go all soft and maybe just a little shiny, before he has to set off again. He takes the right turning.

“We should watch it,” Eddie says eventually. “Hell, I’ll take any movie. Just gimme, like, two hours of not having to think.”

“Tell me about it.”

Steve’s sure he’ll never complain about double VHS tapes ever again. Then a thought occurs to him.

“Shit.” He calls to the back. “Rob?”

“Yeah?”

“Y’know when we left Family Video, did we even lock up?”

“Yes,” Robin says followed immediately by, “No?”

Steve snorts. “God, we’re so fired.”

He hears Robin making her way up to the front, then Eddie saying, “Oof, Buckley, that was right in the ribs.”

“Why the sudden concern about our jobs, dingus?”

“I’m not concerned, I just got reminded of—Eddie was mentioning—”

“—Rebel Without a Cause,” Eddie finishes.

“Oh, Steve, I know you’ve seen it, I put it on last week!”

“Uh, maybe I was preoccupied doing, I dunno, my job.”

“It’s the one with—”

“James Dean,” Eddie cuts in.

“Yeah, I gathered, thanks,” Steve says sarcastically, but he can’t help smiling as he does so.

“—and it’s, you know,” Robin goes on, “troubled kid moves to a new town, and—”

“Aw,” Steve says, “you think I’m troubled, Munson?”

“It’s all in the eyes, Harrington. Such depths.”

“Right?” Robin says, and she’s laughing, tongue-in-cheek, “I’ve always said so.”

“You ever considered wearing a leather jacket?”

Steve laughs, too. “Tell ya what, Eddie, why don’t I just wear all your clothes?”

“Well, we know denim suits you.”

“If only you saw his last car-stealing outfit, Eddie.”

Steve sighs. “Robin, shut it.”

“Excuse me,” Eddie says, “d’you have form, Harrington? Grand theft auto form?”

“Literally once. Crazy circumstances.” Rest in peace, Todfather. “It was a Cadillac.”

“A Cadillac.” Eddie sighs dreamily. “Do you have any photos?”

“Uh, no, I was kinda busy.”

“I shall mourn the loss.”

“Take the next left here,” Nancy calls, which Steve is grateful for—the directions had gone completely out of his head.

“Wheeler, come up to the front,” Eddie says, “it’s a party.”

She must do, because her voice sounds much closer when she says, “Shit, I think I forgot to lock up, too.”

“Don’t worry,” Steve says, “no-one’s gonna ransack The Weekly Streak.”

Another stop sign—Steve looks over, smirks at how Eddie has ended up squished between Nancy and Robin, all of them sharing the one seat.

“They better not.” To Eddie, Nancy adds, “I think I gave your uncle the impression that I’m doing a big piece on you. Like, testimonials for an innocent man, stuff like that.”

For a flicker of a second, Eddie looks nauseated at the thought—Steve spots the shift, the decision to make a joke about it.

“Well, Wheeler, you better make me sound good.”

“Oh, I was going more for journalistic integrity.”

“Hey.”

Steve hears a couple of thumps behind him; without even glancing in the mirror, he says, “Sit your asses down, shitheads, don’t make me turn this thing around.”

“Don’t make me turn this thing around!” Lucas parrots.

Max scoffs playfully: “Nineteen going on forty.”

“Eddie was standing before!” Erica points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, Eddie’s a law unto himself. Look, just sit down and, like, make a list or something, I’ll stop off for food after we’ve—”

Dustin laughs. “You really are forty.”

“Uh-huh, one more wisecrack and you’re not getting any chocolate pudding.”

Steve’s hamming it up, he knows he is—smiles to himself as he hears a quartet of giggles.

“Can you believe they used to think I was cool?” he says.

“I dunno, Harrington,” Eddie says warmly, “at least one of them doth protest too much.”

Nancy stands in search of a pen, Robin following, insisting to Dustin that, “We’re getting one of those camp stoves, if I don’t eat something hot soon, I’m gonna die.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. Maybe it’s because they’ll soon be arriving at The War Zone; his levity slips just a little when he says, “It’s probably, like, a proximity thing. Henderson’ll have a scientific term for it.”

Eddie chuckles. “What, the Steve Harrington effect?”

Steve shrugs. “You get too close, the shine wears off eventually.”

He doesn’t realise until he’s said it that the joking, perhaps, has stopped somewhere along the way.

“Huh,” Eddie says. “I’m no scientist, but that doesn’t sound like the Steve Harrington effect to me.”

“No?” Steve says.

He can see the parking lot in the distance, and he gestures for Eddie to duck.

“Nope,” Eddie says. Steve can hear him moving, crouching to hide behind the driver’s seat.

He parks and everyone’s abruptly all business, deciding who’s staying in the RV, who’s going into The War Zone.

Steve hates it, has a sudden intense longing to keep talking about movies, to just be stupid.

And maybe Eddie can tell, because just before Steve heads out, he catches his eye, smiles.

“Hey, don’t worry, Harrington,” he says with a tiny, fleeting wink. “You’re still my leading man.”

[corazondebeskar-reads]

no quiet on this earth

Joel Miller x f!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 10 - killing in self defense | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 2.8k

summary: You and Joel run into hunters on patrol.

-- I'm a fucking menace, and this is Joel & reader from "you know you never stood a chance" (spoiler warning). BUT this can be read as a standalone. I just can't seem to help myself/let them go.

warnings: established relationship, jackson, patrol partners, hunters, Joel and reader both kill hunters, canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, lots of blood, oral (m receiving), p in v unprotected, creampie, feelings, guilt/trauma, trauma response, a little hurt and a LOT of comfort, Joel takes care of you, one (1) ass slap, pussy/clit spanking

dividers by @saradika-graphics

They had been waiting for you. Not the biggest group of hunters that’s come ‘round, but there hadn’t been any signs. It was supposed to be an easy half-day route. 

It was also your first patrol with Joel. 

You’re already off to a rough morning. He’s settled back into Out There Joel, gruff and tense, and you’re already feeling useless again even though you know you can handle it now. 

You’re on horseback, you with a gentle brown mare that you’re a little irritated about. Penny is notoriously slow and usually used to teach people to ride. Tommy taught you to ride ages ago, but Joel fucking insisted. 

“Ain’t havin’ you have to deal with a spooked horse our first time out.”

“Our first time. I’ve been out loads of times,” you grumbled. He leveled you with a look so stern that you rolled your eyes. 

“Don’t start with your smart mouth,” he said. “Only way this works is—“

“If I do what I’m told. I got it. Same shit, different place.” 

To say you’re pissed would be an understatement. You thought after all the shit you’ve been through that he’d trust you now. And you’ve gotten quite good with your revolver and halfway decent with the rifle. 

Now, out here on the trail to the safe house, neither of you has said a word. Just like the good old days. Y’know. If they had been good. 

You’re nearly there when they make their move. They don’t have guns, thank fuckin’ god, but there are five of them and two of you. 

It becomes quickly clear that they want the horses. Joel makes quick work of the first hunter that lunges for him. 

One comes at him from each side, and you’re too worried to notice the other two do the same to you. 

One grabs the reins and the other tries to yank you from the saddle. Your boots are stuck, and they don’t seem to particularly care if they break your legs during the extraction. 

You free your feet, boots left behind, and let the brick house of a man pull you down. He doesn’t care much about your landing, so when you hit the ground, you grapple for your revolver. 

His partner yells, and he spins back to you, a huge fist aiming for your face. But it doesn’t connect, because your bullet does first. 

He was close enough that it would have been near impossible to miss, which also meant that his stupid body landed on you, turning your clothes into a sponge for his blood. 

Joel’s rampaged through the others by now and turns to take down the one trying to abscond with your horse. 

But he doesn’t make the shot, because he freezes up when he sees you. 

“Get the fucking horse,” you yell. 

He swears and loads the rifle, one neat bullet into the head of the escaping hunter. He hadn’t fully mounted your mare yet, and his corpse crumples into the soft spring soil. 

Joel whistles and Penny takes her fucking time to come back, giving him a very unimpressed look and shaking her mane. 

He heaves the dead man off you. “Where?” he says sharply, eyes darting all over your body. 

“Nowhere, Joel, I’m fine,” you say. 

He’s already dropping to his knees, hands gripping and patting every inch of you before cradling your face. “You’re sure?”

“I mean, I think so. Unless I’m in shock, but I guess we’ll find out in a little bit.”

“Not funny, sweetheart,” he mutters, doing another check, slower this time and more thorough. 

You let him. You feel kind of funny, dizzy almost, but mostly just… muted. Like the world around you is muffled and you’re suddenly hyper aware of how blood is turning tacky and your jeans are stiffening as it dries. 

“Hey,” he snaps. 

You’re pretty sure that means he was already talking to you, and when you look up and meet his eyes, they abandon their irritation for concern beneath furrowed brows. 

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” he says, voice low and slow. It draws out the Texan twang and loops you in. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. You did what you had to do, okay?”

“Okay,” you echo, but the word sticks in your throat, tasting of copper. 

“Say it.”

“I did what I had to do.”

You’ve done as he said, but he looks more worried for it. 

“Alright, c’mon. I’m gettin’ you home.”

“But—“

“Rethink that, baby. I ain’t in the mood to argue.”

“But we were supposed to—“

“Yeah, and plans fuckin’ change. We’re going back. Tommy and I can come out and deal with the bodies later.”

He stands and pulls you up, though you follow willingly. You hover where you stand as he pulls a rope from his bag and tethers it to Penny’s lead. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Want you on Oakley with me.”

“I can ride,” you snap. “I’m not fucking hurt.”

“I know,” Joel says. “But you’re gonna ride with me.”

“Don’t start this shit,” you say, mortified when your voice and hands are trembling. “I can handle myself.”

He spins around, fury written in the curl of his lip. “I fuckin’ know that! I don’t give a shit. You’re riding with me, end of fuckin’ discussion.”

You open your mouth, ready to bite back, but he seizes you by the shoulders and shakes you a little. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ get it? It’s not about you,” he snarls. You’re crushed against him before you realize it’s an embrace. “You’re gonna fuckin’ ride up here, so I know you’re okay.” 

“Oh,” you whisper, leaning into him. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he says, but the fight is already leaving him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before he lets go. “Now get on the damn horse before I put ya there myself.”

You think you deserve credit for only hesitating a little, tempted to see if he really would. But his jaw ticks and you heave yourself up onto Oakley. Joel swings himself behind you, caging you in as he takes the reins. 

“You’re so fuckin’ stubborn,” he gripes. 

“I learned it by watching you,” you say, voice pitched in mockery of the vague memory. 

But instead of irritation, something akin to relief flashes across his face. “Yeah, s’that right?”

“Uh-huh.” Now that everything has calmed, you’re exhausted. He can tell because of course he can. He knows you too well. 

“C’mon, lean back. I got ya. Not gonna let you fall.”

You don’t sleep, not really, but you fall into something between the light and dark. It’s blissfully absent of reality. You’re only aware of the soft sunshine, the sway of the horse, and Joel. 

Joel, your Joel, is everything right now. All encompassing. You’re surrounded by his warmth and smoky musk, masking the chill and tang of the stains on your skin. 

His heart seems to beat in time with Oakley’s hooves and the steady pace he encourages keeps you lulled in this safest place. 

“Holy shit, what happened?” Carl asks at the gates, almost loud enough to knock you from your peace. 

“Nothin’ too serious, she ain’t hurt,” Joel’s smooth tone settles you back down. “But do me a favor and get the horses back? Send Tommy my way in a while. I’m gonna take her home.”

Home. It sounds so nice. But you’re already there, you want to tell him. There’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here. 

You must actually say it, because he chuckles. “Okay, sweetheart, but I can think of somewhere I’d rather be.”

It hurts a little before he leans in and murmurs in your ear. 

“I’d rather be in a warm bath with ya. That sound better than stayin’ put?”

“Oh,” you say. “Yeah, you’re right. Way better idea.”

He makes good on his promise when you get home. While he draws the water, he peels your ruined clothes off and sits you on the bathroom counter to rinse the blood into the sink. 

You sit very still with your eyes clenched shut as he cleans you. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “First one’s the hardest.”

You can’t quite stopper the whimper. 

“This is part of why I don’t like ya goin’ out there. I can’t protect you from this.” The admission costs him, but he seems to decide it’s worth it when you look up at him. 

The tub isn’t really big enough for both of you, but he makes it work, long sprawling limbs propped up to make room for you against his chest. You lie on your side, both to make more room and to press your ear to his chest and listen to his strong, tender heart. 

He holds you there, hand gentle on your head and the other around your shoulder until neither of you can pretend the water is comfortable still.  More importantly, his cock’s been pressing against you for a little while now, and you’re unable to ignore it anymore.

You roll over on your stomach, legs bent a little funny to fit, but it’s the right angle to press a kiss to the fat mushroom head that you love so much. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t need—”

But you just give him a look, because he knows better, he knows you’d never do anything you don’t want to. And he knows how often you crave it, how your throat aches for it.

He raises his hands in surrender. “I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop ya.” 

With the convoluted seating arrangement, you’re able to swallow down his length, working your throat open in the way you’ve grown to know well. It’s a lot at once, but the way he groans is worth the effort. 

You choke and gag a little, but neither of you are really bothered by it. Quite the opposite. And you’re grateful for the way the thoughts you don’t want to face are knocked from your brain each time he ruts deeper. 

Too soon, though, he’s pulling you off, spit thick with precum stringing between him and your lips as you whine.

“C’mon, let’s get out. I gotta have more of you.”

You don’t dry off quite as much as you’d like, but you’re probably going to need to change the sheets anyway. He can’t be bothered to let you towel off properly, picking you up and setting you on the bed before crawling over your body.

He kisses you, ferocious but hesitant, and you trail your hands up his arms, basking in the way he encompasses you for the second time today. His soft, powerful body leaves no wiggle room, practically pinning you down with his bulk. 

Except he’s holding himself up, tense. And the gentleness of his tongue and distinct lack of nipping teeth in his kiss is grating. 

You turn your head to break apart. “Stop acting like I’m gonna fall apart.” 

“I—”

“Oh, don’t even. It’s like you think I’m going to break if you touch me.”

“I didn’t want to make it feel like…”

“I know,” you say, softer. “But I want to feel you, Joel. I don’t want to feel the ghost of it… him. Please.” 

“You wanna feel me, sweetheart? Want me to be a little rough with ya?” 

“Unless you’re too tired. S’it past your bedtime, old man?” 

He doesn’t fall for the taunt, but he pretends to, and you’re deeply grateful as he snarls and bites at your breast before licking and sucking at your nipple, taking it between his teeth and shaking a little. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, hand tangling into his hair. He wears it a little shaggier these days, and you find you like it long. A lot. 

“Think you can take it just like this?” he says around your other nipple. The hand that isn’t holding him up has reached down to his cock, rubbing it against your clit until you squirm, and then dragging it down your slit. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. I think you can take it.”

He doesn’t wait any longer than the first little nod of your head before he flicks his hips, parting you, forcing your body to make room for him. It takes a second thrust to push all the way in, and you cry out as he stuffs you full. 

It hurts so good. It’s just the edge you need to feel awake again. The world is no less fuzzy but the haze is pleasurable and electric instead of the numb fog that refused to dissipate. 

“That’s my girl,” he says. 

It floods you with warmth. You think maybe the sappiness is leaking through, that he can see how stupidly in love you feel. 

Or, you know, it’s actually leaking, since you’re apparently fucking crying. You can’t really begrudge yourself for it. It’s been a hell of a day. 

“There you go,” he murmurs, the gentleness of his voice playing second to the harsh slap of his hips and the tight pinch of his fingers on your breasts. “Let it out, sweetheart. Let me help you.” 

His pace, somehow, intensifies, the brutal snap of his cock blunt against the softest parts of you. He pushes your legs to your chest so he can shove his way in deeper, and smacks a harsh hand against your ass from his new vantage point. 

He grips your hip with one hand and lets up on your tits, only to show no mercy to your clit. He skips over the gentle circles and soft strokes, instead pinching and tugging. He wrenches two orgasms from you before he eases off. 

“Hold your pussy open for me,” he grunts.

You look at him with wide eyes. How can he still be finding ways to shock you with depravity? The two of you have to have fucked every which way, and yet. You slide a hand down but he shakes his head.

“Both of ‘em, baby. Nice and wide.” 

Your cheeks are burning as he lifts up onto his knees, pushing your legs apart to watch as you spread your lips wide. For a moment, he’s mesmerized by the push and pull of his cock splitting you apart and the way it comes out a little slicker each time. 

“Look at that,” he says, a smug smirk spreading. “Fuckin’ creamin’ all over me, sweetheart. Now hold still.”

Before you really process the order, still dying from how hot his filthy words are, he slaps your clit. You jerk and let go, crying out more in surprise than pain.

“Put your fuckin’ hands back,” he says, and you obey. 

Your whole body is on fire, maybe. He brings his hand down sharply again and again, making you hold yourself spread wide for him to use as he pleases. 

It doesn’t really surprise either of you when you come. He finally knocks your hands away from your cunt and leans back down over you, hips stammering sloppily. 

“Can I—” he chokes out, and you’re nodding so hard it shakes your brain around. He digs his fingers into your hips. “C’mon, sweetheart, one more. Gimmie one more while I fill you up.”

He goes to reach for your clit, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as he starts twitching and pulsing inside you, you come, eyes rolling back and fingernails digging into his biceps. 

When you’ve both settled, there’s something bright in his eyes, something wild and dangerous. He sinks his teeth into your collarbone and doesn’t pull out. His softening cock isn’t much smaller than it is erect, and he stays buried deep in you, eyes trailing over your face. 

“What?” you say softly.

“I thought… thought I fuckin’ lost you today.” His voice is gruff but tight.

“You didn’t, Joel. M’right here.”

He kisses you, and it’s not gentle exactly, not like earlier, but it’s tender and demanding. His hands grip you and roam, not pursuing pleasure but just to have his fill of you, to feel your body warm and alive beneath him. 

When he breaks away from your swollen lips, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “You did good. I don’t like it, but you did good. I’m not gonna ask you not to go out again, but—”

“I’m gonna ask Tommy if I can have a break,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’m not a coward, but I don’t know if I can do that again.” You’re burning again, but this time with shame.

“No one expects you to. It doesn’t mean you’re a coward. You’re tough, sweetheart. But y’ain’t a killer.”

“I am, though,” you whisper. 

“Stop. Yes, you killed that man today. But you had to. It was him or you. You’re a survivor. But I’m going to make damn sure you don’t have to be anymore, alright? We’re safe here, now.”

You let out a ragged sigh and try to relax back into the pillow. “Okay,” you agree. You can tell he needs it. How scared he was. 

At least for now, you’ll let him protect you from this.

*title from "Death For My Birthday" by Say Anything

[vinylfoxbooks]

July 4 - Wings | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 996 Medium James/Necromancer Potter Family AU

Regulus knows that she shouldn’t be in here. He always knows that when he walks into the forbidden forest but he does it anyway. He likes it, likes the environment, likes the noise that it creates even late at night from all of the creatures doing their own thing. So he walks into the forbidden forest, just like tries to do at least once a month. 

Only he stops short about halfway to the little clearing that he had found several years ago, when he sees James. Now, Regulus has known about the activities that his brother and friends get up to during the month, he’s talked to Remus enough about that for him to have confided that information in Regulus. But it’s nowhere near the full moon and James isn’t in any sort of animagus form -- he may know about them being illegal animagi but he doesn’t know what they are outside of Sirius being a black dog -- it’s just… James.

But what’s more concerning to Regulus is the fact that James is just standing there petting the wings of a fucking thestral. They’re cooing to it, talking quietly.

“James?” Regulus asks, taking a soft step towards the two of them, “What are you doing out here?”

James jumps at his voice but otherwise doesn’t do anything outside of turning to him, “Regulus? What are you doing out here?”

“I asked you that first.” Regulus says, crossing his arms and popping a hip, “Especially why you’re petting a thestral. Those aren’t common, and how can you even see it?”

“I just needed to clear my head,” James shakes their head, hand remaining on the creature’s wing, “I’ve spent so much time out here that I’m not scared of the forest anymore and so it’s a nice place to go. Your turn, what are you doing out here?”

“I try to come out here at least once a month,” Regulus shrugs, “I don’t have a reason, I just like it out here. I have a place that I like to go to. Why can you see that?”

“The thestral?” James asks, like it is not obvious what he’s talking about from the way that he jerks his chin in the direction of the horse.

“They’re only visible to people who have seen the dead.”

James is quiet for a moment before they shrug, “I’ve been able to see spirits my entire life. My grandfather died just before I was born but I didn’t know it until later when I started talking about him because I thought he lived with us. I always saw him around and figured that he didn’t talk because of his age or something. My parents also lost several children before I was born and they used to come to me when I was younger. I’d always ask my parents about seeing my siblings.”

“So you’ve seen the dead all along.”

“I didn’t figure that I needed to mention it. There are all sorts of spirits that follow people around but I don’t want to creep people out. And most people wouldn’t believe me.”

“Is it normal for your family to see spirits?”

“A lot of us do, but not everyone. My mum can see some.”

“So it’s genetic?”

“I guess. We may not do the whole dark magic thing but we do have strong ties with the dead. We have strong evidence that my ancestors did stuff with necromancy, so it’s not all that shocking that we can see the dead.” 

“Interesting.” Regulus hums, walking up to the thestral slowly, “So did this just come up to you?”

James hums, “It was hesitant but I’ve been wanting to see a thestral for a while and it warmed up to me quickly. Put your hand here.” They take one of Regulus’ hands and guides it to the creature’s neck, taking their movements slow and allowing the creature to watch the approach of their hands. 

“Y’know, you don’t seem shocked that I’m able to see this.” Regulus hums, slowly moving his hand up and down the neck of the creature, feeling the way the leathery skin dips between bones.

“Sirius can, too.” James hums, “I know what your family is like. I’m not shocked by it. I’d be more surprised if you couldn’t see it.” 

Eventually, the thestral seems to get tired of them and takes off, leaving the two of them. Regulus guides James to the clearing that he found and the two of them sit down in it, not saying much. 

“You needed to clear your mind?” Regulus asks, “Can I ask why?”

“I just have a lot that goes on up here constantly. Being in a place like this quiets all that.” James says, their eyes closed. Regulus takes the moment to gaze over them. The moon is shining through the canopy above them, hitting them just right. They look lovely in the sun but they look absolutely ethereal in the moonlight.

“Do you… do you see things in the forest?” 

“Of course I do, this place is crazy.” James hums.

“I mean…”

They crack one eye open, “Ghosts roam the forest, too. That’s a part of the reason that we’re warned to be careful here. There are some very malicious spirits in here. I try to avoid them as best as possible, they creep me the fuck out.”

“Have you ever seen a spirit around me?”

“Not you.” James shakes their head, “Your Rosier friends have one, though. I see it around them all the time.”

“Both of them?”

James nods, “It’s the same one, it’s got the same energy but I’ll see it around either of them at different times. Don’t know what or who it is.” 

“You’ll have to tell me more about the spirits that you see,” Regulus hums, “It’s interesting.”

“You’d be the first to say that, most people are freaked out by things like that.” 

“Well I’m not most people.” Regulus hums and James snorts.

Next part

[persephone11110]

rain is a good thing

Jake‘Hangman’Seresin x Reader

Chapter 4: Memories

Warnings: medical induced coma, medical inaccuracy,past relationship, mama seresin, flashback of jake and y/nrelationship—there italicized

Chapter Summary: Its not awkward sitting in the room with your ex boyfriend-mother.

Characters: Gina Sersesin | Doctor Kate Young

A/N: does jake make it ? , enjoy and thank you to everyone who continues to like and reblog and comment.

WC:810

Previous | Next

Series Masterlist

—

You didn’t love him anymore not like before. Your just doing the right thing- which was keeping him company. After all what are ex girlfriends who still love their ex boyfriend there for?

So why are you sitting at your ex-boyfriend bedside holding his hand, reassuring him that you’ll never leave his side until he’s fully awake and functioning. You drop his hand by accident after hearing a familae voice, a voice you haven’t heard in a while.

You recognize two distinct voices- one voice belonging to Dr. Young the neurosurgeon who operated on Jake… and the other voiced was Jakes mother- Gina Seresin. Her voice heavy with a southern accent, dare you say heavier than Jakes. You hear Dr Young say something to her but your to busy listening to your heart rate accelerate to thousand beats per minute.

The back of your neck beat red you immediately rise out of the chair turning to meet her, she’s holding a bouquet of flowers, and picture of young Jake. Gina Seresin swears her old brain is playing tricks on her because Y/n L/n the heart her son broke was standing infront of her with a beat red face. “Is that you Y/n?”, you expected her voice to be dripping with anger but it isn’t, she motions you towards her. “C’mere darlin” she whispers to you.

“H-Hi Mrs. Seresin”, she envelopes you into a hug, her calmed voice provides you with a sense of comfort you haven’t had since you were a child. Your supposed to comforting the woman who son life hangs in between life and death, she flew all the way from Texas with by herself with the idea that her only son might be dead by the time she got to the hospital.

“Nonesense Y/n like I told you all those other times you have the right to call me anything but Mrs. Seresin”, she shushes you gently, neither of you were going to bring up the fact that both your shirts were now wet.

“Its nice to see you Gina”, your voice rough because of the crying you’ve been doing since you first saw Jake lying in the hospital bed.

You break apart from the hug- wiping away the tears,“Its nice to you see Gina, I wished we were meeting under different circumstances”, you grab the picture and flowers from her, putting on the table next to Jake. She pulls a chair from the wall, pulling it to the other side of Jakes bed.

She gives you a teary response in return,“Me too sweetheart”. Gina grabs Jakes hand gently and cups her hands around his,“Your going to be just fine baby, Rocky been waiting for you to ride her Jake”. How could you forget Rocky, when you and Jake were together he often brought up Rocky, a horse he had since he could walk. He would go on for hours about Rocky and how much he missed her while being stationed in California.

Wanting to give Gina alone time with her son you decided to slip out while her back to you and she’s busy telling Jake a story about Rocky.

You get lost in your mind as you wandered the hospital halls, walking past some hospital rooms with made beds, some with familes at the person bedside crying. Hearing a nurse yell clear as they attempt to bring someone back to life.

“Y’know Y/n your supposed to actually flip grill cheese”. Jake murmurs from behind, wrapping his arms around you.“Do you not like cheese sweets?”. He asks you with his signature shit eating grin.

“Jake you didn’t complain last time when I made it”. you hold the spatula upto his chest,“Not once did you speak ill of my cooking”.

“Well sweetheart you supposed to give compliments to the chef”. He grabs the spatula out of your hand placing it onto a napkin nearby.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”, you two are swaying back in forth with your arms lightly wrapped around Jakes neck.

“Yes it is”. you roll your eyes at Jakes sacarsm.“I love how excited you get when its your turn to cook that I just eat it darlin,watching you sing and bump your hips to music while cooking is my favorite thing to watch”.

“Well” you started to get teary, can’t find anything to say. “I love you Jake”. He pulls you so close that you feel how warm he is.

“Gotta show my darlin how much I love her”. Jake whispers into your ears, suddenly his lips are softly crashing into yours.

Between each breathe Jake utters a I love you.

“I love you so much sweetheart”. Jake inhales again, “I fucking love you”.

Your leaning aganist the doorway watching Gina finally succumb to sleep after hours of sitting at Jake beside awake, afraid to fall asleep.

“I love you”. you whispered into the quiet room.

Taglist: @chocolatefartstrawberry, @buckysteveloki-me, @dontletthemtakeyoualive, @classyunknownlover, @els-marvelvsp, @i-am-mrsreckless, @cinderellasmissingshoes,

[anabdaniels]

Going ice-skating

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female Reader

Word counting: 1k

Rating: +18

Warning: Fingering, lazy sex, Jack being unable to ice-skating, subtle undertones of my polemic personal opinions on cowgirl but that's not the focus here.

Main Masterlist | Cowboycember Masterlist

Being married with Jack for a reasonable amount of time, you were aware of all the fancy things Statesman could provide, yet it didn’t made you less surprise when you found out that the club had a ice-skating rink, and of course you didn’t refused when Jack asked if you’d like to go there.

Jack didn’t use to take advantage of his CEO position to get things, except when the subject was you, so it wasn’t a coincidence that you two were the only people on the rink on that afternoon.

“Sugar, I might have a confession.” Jack said with one hand on his hip on the entrance of the rink, observing you moving around.

“What?” you turned to look at him still with a silly happy smile on your face.

“I don’t have a single clue ‘bout how to use these things.” Jack said calmly, making you frown slightly.

“Are you telling me that you never used this place before?” you got even more shocked when he nodded “Well, seem that I’ll be your tutor then.” You smiled and grabbed his arms, pulling him to the rink with you.

“I hope you know the problem you’re getting yourself into, sugar.” Jack mentioned while shamelessly holding your arms to not lose his balance.

“It cannot be that bad.” You said with a quiet laugh.

Well, it could be that bad.

Jack could have an unbelievable balance using his lasso while riding a horse, but for ice-skating it definitely wasn’t his lucky department. He looked essentially like a little kid, holding on the rink fence or on you to keep steady, which didn’t prevent him to fall once or twice, demanding a lot of your composure to not laugh.

“Honey, I love you, but next time, please let me just sit and watch you. I’ll be fine without participating.” Jack really meant it, spread on the bed, completely ruined by the skating.

“You’re so dramatic, Daniels.” You laughed while crawling up to the bed.

“I don’t feel my legs.” Jack raised his eyebrows only for dramatical emphasis.

“Such a shame I was about to suggest another activity, but I’ll let you rest.” You haven’t moved an inch to your side of the bed and Jack already had his arms around you.

“Wait a minute, sugarcube. Thinking straight, I ain’t that tired.” He smirked and kissed the curve of your neck “Not to mention that you can always feel free to ride.” You stared him dead in the eye with a not amused expression.

“You know very well that I don’t go on top.” You were about to move to your side of the bed, but his arms tightened around you.

“Forgive your old cowboy horrible sense of humor, my sweetpea.” Jack smiled warmly and kissed the tip of your nose.

“I should’ve let you fall a few more times on the rink.” You said trying to sound pissed, but you were already melting.

“Y’know you can do whatever you want with me, my darlin’ wife.” He whispered against your skin on that warm tone that was your weak spot and started to kiss your bare skin.

“I thought you were too exhausted.” You chuckled and closed your eyes, enjoying his kisses.

“There’s thing in life for which I always have energy left.” He concluded the statement with a nibble on your shoulder.

“Then, before you say another thing that can put you in trouble, start to use this energy.”

“You don’t have to ask twice.”

Softly he grabbed your jaw, turning your head a bit and kissing you, slowly and passionately as he pulled you closer, his chest pressing against your back such as his throbbing erection nudging your butt.

Still kissing you, Jack teasingly rubbed the tip of his cock on your wet folds before slowly thrust inside you, pulling you even closer, as if you would get out of the spooning if he didn’t, while letting his hand slide down the front of your body and stop between your legs, softly rubbing your clit.

You melted against him, completely focused on enjoy that good and comfortable feeling of a lazy love-making. You smiled without even realize as Jack covered your face, neck and shoulder with soft kisses, causing that good feeling on your lower stomach to just grow. Calmly you moved one hand behind, caressing his nape and sinking your hand on Jack’s hair, rubbing your fingertips on his scalp, making Jack let out a groan.

Without even realize, you pranced your butt against Jack, gasping whit the feeling of his cock tickling your cervix and contorting a bit as your clit got more sensible to Jack’s touch, making you involuntarily press your legs against each other. As if your amazing scent and soft skin against his body wasn’t enough, seeing you being so responsive was enough to make Jack weak and even more needy for you, giving him no choice but kiss you once more and keep his consistent pace despite feeling his cock twitching inside you as he got close to the edge.

Letting out a loud whimper, you pulled Jack’s hair and contorted against him, feeling your walls clenching his throbbing cock inside you. Captivated by the incredible feeling of you softening between his arms, Jack allowed himself to lose his composure, thrusting erratically a few more times before filling you deeply with a hoarse moan.

Neither of you bothered to unmade the mess of tangled limbs you were at that moment, Jack kept his face hid on the curve of your neck, kissing your skin and caressing your stomach while you wrapped his hair on your fingers.

“I hope you don’t have any other activity on mind for today, honeybee.” Jack said against your skin, making you shiver slightly.

“Not for now, but I’ll ley you know if change my mind.” You both chuckled and you turned your head a bit, kissing the corner of his mouth and sighing as he tightened his arms around you.

[priestessofspiders]

Ambulatory Flesh

A lot of your quirkier “I fucking love science” types will joke about us human beings as consisting of an intelligent organism, the brain, piloting around the body like some sort of fleshy mech suit. They’ll say that all this clumsy flesh is just a casing for the real life form within, the “man behind the curtain” so to speak. Rykors and kaldanes, y’know? But that’s all bullshit. It’s just a modern retelling of Cartesian dualism, an attempt at devising a secular conception of a soul. There is no meaningful distinction between some abstract, pseudoplatonic “mind” and the sweating, reeking hulks that are our bodies. We’re all just meat in the end, and no amount of philosophizing will ever truly be able to hide this fact.

It all started at a Japanese restaurant. I don’t remember the name of the place, it was a group excursion with friends and I didn’t get to pick where we went. Well, I say friends, but in all truth I don’t think I can even recall the names of the people I went with either, our only real point of connection was through my (former) friend Ted. Most people, I think, don’t actually have the energy to go out and make connections with other human beings, other ambulatory sacks of meat and bone. They get nervous, or overthink things, or are bad at managing time, et cetera, et cetera, an endless parade of excuses to avoid having to deal with the mortifying ordeal of being known. Ted, however, seemed to be able to ingratiate himself with nearly anyone imaginable. I have no idea how he maintained the intricate web of friendships and acquaintances that he possessed, and whenever I spent time with him he seemed to be introducing me to some new person he only met a week ago yet already knows their entire life story. I’d long since come to expect that whenever he asked to hang out, I wouldn’t be the only one attending.

I never really liked Ted much if you couldn’t already tell. He talked too much and too loudly, and never knew when to let a joke die. If there was a contest for beating dead horses, Ted would have won gold medal every time. But, he did possess some sort of natural charisma which caused folks to gravitate towards him, and I never was especially good at making friends, so whenever he sent out an invitation for his little get-togethers I would tag along out of the nagging fear that unless I spent time socializing on a semi-regular basis people might think I was a bit strange. Anything to keep up appearances, after all.

But, that’s not important. I’m rambling, trying to avoid getting to the point of what happened. It feels like maybe if I don’t think about it, if I don’t remember that night at the restaurant, it will have never happened, that maybe if I just go to bed I’ll wake up and everything will be normal again.

Ted was laughing slightly too loud at a joke that one of his new friends had said, and I could feel the prickle of second-hand embarrassment as I watched one of the other guests at the restaurant glance over to our table with a look of slightly detached judgment. My humiliation was cut short, however, when the waiter finally brought around our platter of food.

After a cringe inducing “arigato” escaped from Ted’s beaming, incredibly white mouth, we began divvying up the dishes to their corresponding diners. Usually I was somewhat cowardly when it came to ordering from restaurants, sticking to the beaten path with regards to what foodstuffs I felt comfortable ingesting, but for some Godforsaken reason on that particular day I had decided to be adventurous. I had ordered the sashimi. The plate full of raw fish was placed in front of me, and I gazed upon it with a sort of dull fascination.

I wasn’t disgusted, you must understand, I’m not some squeamish idiot who didn’t know that the raw fish I’d ordered would, indeed, be raw fish, but there was just something so simple about it, so… pure. No other ingredients, no fancy cooking techniques, just clean, uncooked fish, sliced into appealing portions and served with a side of soy sauce. I snapped the binding of the cheap wooden chopsticks before using them to pick up a piece gently, inspecting the sliced tuna for a few seconds as though I were observing some sort of laboratory specimen.

Ted peered up at me from his bowl of ramen with what I assume was meant as a look of encouragement. “Go on Delilah, are you gonna eat it or just look at it?” he asked, playfully.

I was about to respond when the tuna suddenly twitched on the end of my chopsticks. I’m not ashamed to admit that I shrieked as I pulled my hand away in alarm, causing the blob of fish to hit my plate with a meaty smack. Frankly under the circumstances I think it was a perfectly reasonable response.

All eyes turned towards me, and all I could do was point down at my plate, where the dismembered cut of fish was clumsily, blindly undulating towards me, like a slug having an epileptic fit. I was trapped in a booth seat, stuck between two strangers and unable to get out as this limbless blob of disembodied piscine tissue just kept twitching and spasming.

I wasn’t afraid for my life, I think. I don’t believe that I thought I was in any immediate danger, it’s not like the sashimi would be able to do anything. It had no teeth to bite with, no claws with which to cut me. What bothered me was simply that it was moving, and that it should not have been able to move. We don’t expect something which we are going to put into our mouths to still be twitching when we do so. The thought that I had very nearly been about to take a bite made me want to vomit.

Fortunately, my cry of terror had alerted one of the waiters, who, upon noticing the mobile meat, swiftly took the platter away while the rest of Ted’s friends tried their best to calm me down. The man himself, however, was too busy laughing to be of any assistance. He was still guffawing when I managed to extricate myself from the table and make my way back to my car. The moron never did know when to stop turning everything into a goddamn joke.

Now of course after I got home and calmed down a bit with the assistance of some Smirnoff, I took the time to look up what happened on the internet. A quick Google search confirmed that yes, sometimes, very rarely, raw meat can still move around a bit. Something to do with stored energy in the muscles, the cells not being quite yet dead. Fish seem to be particularly susceptible, but it appeared that all sorts of animals did something of a postmortem jig now and again. One particularly nauseating video showed the plucked, headless carcass of a chicken, spasming as though trying to escape as it lay atop a pile of its immobile comrades.

Now, knowing something is natural doesn’t necessarily make it stop being horrific. Understanding how static electricity functions doesn’t make a lightning strike any less shocking, if you’ll pardon the pun. But, at the very least, I was comforted by the knowledge that what I experienced was simply some sort of biological fuckup rather than a sign of the supernatural. At least, that’s what I thought at the time, anyway.

I remember the night after my first experience I had a particularly vivid nightmare. I was standing in the foyer of the Japanese restaurant, and it seemed very busy. A waiter ushered me over to a table, where a number of other people were already seated, including Ted who was guffawing loudly. Laying on the table was a blandly attractive naked woman, her body covered in sushi.

I never really understood the appeal of eating the sushi off of someone’s body, to be entirely honest, even accounting for my own heterosexuality. It’s not as though I’d want to eat off of a handsome man either. There’s something odd, the reduction of a human being into little more than a sexualized table. I mean it’s objectifying, obviously, but I suppose that’s the point, isn’t it? Regardless, I could feel my dream self’s skin crawl as I sat down in my appointed place, knowing that something horrible was about to happen.

As I watched, all of the little slices of fish began to wriggle free from their seaweed binding, squirming and twitching off of the beds of white rice. The woman on the table opened her mouth as the dozens of chunks of ambulatory flesh moved up towards her face. They began to crawl inside, stuffing her open mouth until she couldn’t breath, her face turning blue, but she just kept staying perfectly still, even as her exposed chest heaved up and down, desperately trying to get air into her blocked windpipe. All around me the other guests started to giggle and snicker at the sight, their mirth increasing in intensity as the woman slowly suffocated. When she finally stopped breathing entirely, the whole crowd was engaged in uproarious, hysterical laughter. After a few seconds, the corpse began to twitch and writhe in the same way the dead fish had, its glassy, blank eyes staring out from its lifeless face into nothing. I woke up sobbing.

It was a few weeks before I had my next encounter with unnaturally moving meat. In the intervening time I tried very hard to forget the whole matter, though I did make an effort to avoid Ted, social conformity be damned. Whenever I thought about his stupid laugh it made me feel sick all over again. As a matter of fact I spent a lot of time avoiding everyone, really. I prefer solitude, especially when after I’ve undergone something upsetting. It may seem silly that I’d go to all this fuss over a single piece of twitching sashimi, but I’ve always been fairly sensitive, and something about the whole concept of dead tissue still being able to move bothered me beyond belief. Maybe I just watched too many zombie films when I was a kid or something, who knows?

In any event, the second time happened at a company barbecue. Mandatory attendance, of course, it was that sort of a workplace, all focused on teamwork and working together “not just as a business, but as a family.” I don’t exactly know why I needed to be so focused on forming a bond with my coworkers when my own position as a data entry clerk left me working in blissful isolation for most of the time, but I imagine the overpaid men in suits who arranged these corporate equivalents of elementary school pizza parties instead of just giving out raises probably didn’t understand the concept of introversion. Anything to force employees back to the office after years of working from home, I suppose.

Fortunately I didn’t need to drive to the event, as it was just held in the parking lot during lunch hour, which I ordinarily spend sitting in my car curled up with a book (I could never stand the constant chatter of my coworkers in the break room). Like most corporate teamwork building events, it was simultaneously deeply awkward and a little bit sad. A few grills were set up with some bored looking catering staff cooking up burgers and steaks, while the halting half-laughter and polite tones of corporate enforced camaraderie emanated from the office drones clad in blandly professional outfits as they sat at the various card tables set up under white plastic tents.

I held out a paper plate like a priest soliciting donations from his congregation, and one of the underpaid pitmasters plopped a well-done steak onto it. I slathered it with a generous helping of barbecue sauce and then sat as far away from everyone else as I possibly could. Just because the powers that be could force me into attending this little gathering didn’t mean they could make me talk to anyone.

I sat glumly, stewing in my own petulance (I’m nothing if not self-aware) as I cut a piece off of my steak and popped it into my mouth without really looking at what I was doing. The texture was… off, somehow, and the flavor was unusual. I looked down at the steak to see that beneath the crispy, almost burnt exterior, the meat was quite rare, undercooked even, and was leaking blood onto my paper plate. It was thick too, not the watered down juices from a rare steak, but sticky, opaque, red as a bullfighter’s cape. Then, the hunk of charred flesh lunged towards me.

I don’t mean it twitched, I don’t mean it crawled, the thing leapt like a goddamned jackrabbit right at me. I fell backward in the cheap plastic folding chair, banging the back of my head against the concrete in the process which caused my vision to be filled with stars. I could feel the sticky, greasy piece of meat slithering across my chest, moving towards my open mouth, and I screamed in terror and pain. I could feel it pulsing as though it had a heartbeat, and the warmth from the grill made it feel sickeningly close to body heat.

It was only a few seconds before some of my coworkers rushed over to help, but it felt like an agonizingly long time as I lay there in pain, the quivering hunk of burnt flesh squirming closer to my face. Finally, someone helped me to my feet, and as though shy in the presence of other people, the steak seemingly lost its capacity for movement, falling to the ground with a wet splat.

Everyone wanted to know what happened, they kept asking me over and over again:

“Are you okay?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you hurt?”

The whole time I couldn’t focus on what they were saying for long enough to give a satisfying answer, I’d just see their red, fleshy tongues flapping in their mouths and feel sick all over again, feeling painfully aware of the blood that the steak had leaked all over my dress. They’re all just mounds of walking, talking, meat, covered in a thin layer of greasy, stinking skin and wrapped up in cloth to hide the truth of what they are. What we all are.

I managed to eventually stammer out some sort of excuse that my manager accepted as reason for me to take the rest of the day off, and I drove home after I calmed down enough to feel safe at the wheel. I didn’t tell anyone about the moving steak. I knew they wouldn’t believe me. It’s not like anyone else saw it that time.

When I got home I threw out all the meat in my refrigerator. Starving children in the third world be damned, I wasn’t going to risk having the fucking bologna try and smother me in my sleep. Call me paranoid if you want, but after what I’ve been through, I feel pretty goddamn vindicated. It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you after all.

See, it didn’t stop with the steak. Even after I cut all meat out of my diet (I pretended it was a health thing), I still wasn’t free from dead flesh moving. It was little things at first. Dead flies on the windowsill twitching tiny legs previously held stiff with rigor mortis. Soggy worms that were still just moments before struggling to escape their watery tombs as I pass them by on the rain-soaked sidewalk. Hell, maybe it had been going on a while even before the sashimi incident and I just never noticed. But once I had an eye for it, it seemed to happen everywhere.

I knew it wasn’t natural. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, dozens and dozens of times afterwards over and over until you feel like clawing your fucking eyes out rather than see another roadkill squirrel try to drag itself across the pavement towards you is a sign that God just hates you. I can’t even walk into grocery stores anymore, I have to get everything by delivery, because if I even get within a hundred yards of the meat department I might see the sausages and chicken breasts and steaks and pork chops and dozens of other plastic wrapped corpses gently flopping and spasming and twitching, trying desperately to break free of their refrigerated prisons to get towards me. I know I’m not just going crazy. Usually, nobody notices, the meat quieting as soon as anyone else is around, but not always. I remember once watching a young girl start crying as she saw a T-bone steak crawling like an inchworm behind the glass case of the meat counter. She asked her mother why it wasn’t dead. Meat asking the meat it budded off from why the meat which should be still is moving.

Who are you supposed to talk to about this sort of thing? Where were you supposed to go? It’s not like a shrink would do me any good as I am in no respect delusional, and I certainly was not going to try and seek out the assistance of a priest. If anything the moving meat has more firmly cemented my disenchantment with the prospect of divinity; any God that allows such violations of nature to exist is not one who is worthy of worship. I wasn’t going to beg on my hands and knees for the help of a deity who presides over a broken world.

So I just dealt with it. I kept away from grocery stores and supermarkets, I turned a blind eye to the twitching bugs and spasming roadkill, and I stuck to my new vegetarian diet. I also had to remove all the mirrors in my house. I couldn’t bear to look at my reflection anymore, to be reminded of the meat that is me. Every twitch of an eye, every deep breath, it all just felt like that same unnatural mobility of dead flesh. Go ahead and call it denial if you want, my disposal of the mirrors, but it gave me at least some peace of mind. Besides, I didn’t like looking at the bags under my eyes that I was getting from all the nightmares.

This continued for a while, my coping with the impossible by simply ignoring it. Maybe a month or two, though it is hard for me to remember exactly how long. Things weren’t perfect, I drank a lot and had a few breakdowns here and there, but who wouldn’t under the circumstances? My point is I was getting on with things, to the best of my ability, and not just crumbling from the pressure. I wasn’t going to be beaten by a bunch of lifeless tissue being puppeted around by some unknowable force. I’m stronger than that.

Then came my father’s sickness. It happens to everyone in the end, doesn’t it? Meat spoils, after all. I don’t remember all the details, the doctors used a lot of fancy sounding medical terminology for it, something about blood clots and brain damage, but what it all boiled down to is that the man who raised me was on his deathbed, unconscious and unresponsive.

I never knew my mother. She ran off at some point shortly after I was born, leaving daddy dearest to take care of me the best he could. And he did do his best, I’m sure of that now. He fucked up along the way, but everyone’s parents do. They’re not perfect. Nobody is perfect. We’re all just meat, after all.

I started spending a lot of time with my father. He spent so much of his life caring for me when I had just entered this world, I felt like it was only fair I was by his side as he left it. I wasn’t deluded into thinking that he’d get better, or even that he would be aware of my presence, but it felt right for me to be next to him. I didn’t want him to die alone.

I’d sit there by his side, reading from one of my books. Sometimes, if the mood struck me, I’d read aloud to him. There was never any recognition in his eyes, he’d just stare blankly at the ceiling, his rattling breathing providing a distant background hum, but I didn’t mind. If anything I kind of appreciated that he didn’t do much. I was so used to things that shouldn’t move moving that it almost felt like a relief to see something which should move remain more or less stationary.

Now, they didn’t have him hooked up to life support machines or anything like that, you must understand. Nothing to monitor his vital signs, no machine to keep his heart beating, he was just laying in bed under scratchy hospital blankets. My father wasn’t afraid of death, and had demanded that he not be resuscitated in the event of something like this happening to him. Better to die with dignity than be forced to live with the help of machines.

It was because of this lack of monitoring that I didn’t initially notice when he finally stopped breathing. I was just sitting there, reading, when all of a sudden I was struck by how quiet the hospital room was. I put down my book and looked over to the bed, and my father’s chest had ceased to rise and fall. He was gone, and I hadn’t even realized when it happened. I knew it was coming, but I wanted to be there for him, I wanted to hold his hand as he crossed that final threshold. That this was taken from me made me start to cry.

I grabbed hold of his hand, hoping to experience at least my father’s warmth for one last time before he went cold. There was still the faintest touch of heat in his calloused, old fingers, and the tears flowed freely down my face.

“I’m sorry”, I said as I squeezed his hand, “I’m so sorry dad.”

He squeezed back.

Gasping in surprise, I looked up, hoping against all hope to see my father’s smiling face as he woke up, as if from a long dream, miraculously alive and okay. But that isn’t what I saw. This isn’t that kind of story. This isn’t that sort of world.

The corpse that was my father began to twitch and spasm, writhing and squirming as if made of a hundred tiny pieces each trying to break free from the whole. What was once my father’s head rolled lazily to face me, doll eyes blankly staring forward as the lifeless thing wriggled towards me.

It was like watching an octopus move, each limb in possession of a mind of its own, its hand in a vice grip against mine. I tried to pull free but I couldn’t, it was grasping too tight. I screamed for help, calling for anybody to get this corpse, this meat, away from me. My cries were cut off as its other hand grasped my throat, bent awkwardly at an impossible angle as I heard its bones snap.

My vision faded to black, and the last thing I saw before I passed out was my father’s face, lifeless and dead, staring into nothing.

I lived, of course. I wouldn’t be sitting here typing this if I didn’t. Whatever unnatural force was animating the corpse, it didn’t stick around long enough to do any lasting damage beyond leaving some bruises on my neck. A nurse found me unconscious on the floor, my father’s body laying on top of me stiffly.

They didn’t even try to come up with a realistic explanation for what happened, they just said my injuries must have been self-inflicted during a “psychotic break brought about by the traumatic event”, because no doctor is going to believe a woman who says her dead father tried to strangle her to death. The most they humored me was admitting that it was possible that I witnessed some postmortem muscle spasms. Meat that didn’t know it was dead yet.

I’m working through it though. I’m facing my fears. That’s what you’re supposed to do as an adult right? You just sit down and deal with things, you don’t make a fuss about it. And so that’s what I’m doing, I’m handling all this with maturity and grace.

I’ve even started eating meat again.

Little pieces.

Nice, bite sized chunks.

I’ve almost gotten used to how it feels as it wriggles down my throat.

[glendover]

my wbg sort of ranch/ western au (actually a my friend flicka au but you wouldn’t understand it’s too niche)

characters: Matt, MW, Michael, Sly, Ty (not really but yeah)

paring: Matt x MW, Michael x Sly

status: taking over every thought I’ve ever had

for this au and for reasons Michael, Ty and Matt are brothers (bear with me pls also I thought about them being like adopted brother but you know)

for other reasons their parents are dead (the reason being I didn’t want to create OCs plus parents are kinda useless for this au anyway)

they all grew up on a ranch and Michael took over it once their parents died together with his husband Sly

Ty is out in the city as some famous scientist (idk like I said he’s not that important for the story, he’s only here to show how great Matt’s brothers are)

but now to Matt (and how, unfortunately, I nerved him)

as a child he was weak and often sick and it dragged on all the way through adulthood

he had to give up his studies and dream to become a vet and moved back in with Michael

in my mind Matt actually finished his degree but since he’s always sick he couldn’t take care of himself thus resulting in him not being able to get a job etc.

anyway, one summer Michael hired a cowboy (or multiple but only one is really important for this) to help him and Sly to round up the young horses and break them in

in comes the great romance (kidding I wouldn’t be me if there wasn’t slow burn and longing)

so Matt and MW actually don’t have a great start I haven’t thought of a reason yet but they just hit it off wrong and I think it’s MW fault

so Matt actually spends the summer watching his brother and literally anyone else go out in the sun, riding and having fun, while he is stuck in the house

I think Matt’s fav spot would be behind the house where there is a secluded area where he likes to read

and when the young horses come in he spends time near the paddock and watches the others but always feels left out and leaves

actually this is pretty angsty in my mind but what if Matt wants to join them but Micheal forbids him out of fear that he could hurt himself

angst with happy ending is also one of my fav tropes if you couldn’t tell 🫡

anyway Matt and MW do get closer through family dinners and MW desperate attempts to mended the damage he caused on his very first day

and let’s just say it slowly works

so in his free time MW spends time with Matt and gets to know him better, obviously he’s curious why Matt is being so sheltered and kept save from literally everything

he starts to understand when Matt doesn’t come down for breakfast one morning and Michael explains that he has a migraine and people shouldn’t bother Matt

MW doesn’t listen (why would he 🙄) and sneaks up into Matt’s room in the evening

where Matt is suffering™️

(yes hurt/comfort is one of my fav tropes as well)

anyway MW stays with Matt and comforts him -> massages his head, brings him a wet and cold cloth etc.

after that MW looks out for Matt far more often and handles him with more care

which bothers Matt bc MW had previously been the only person who didn’t behave differently around him and not only saw the sick boy he was

so he snaps and calls MW out on his bullshit (in my mind Matt is snapping his fingers and all lmao // I really need to stay serious)

Idk eventually Matt asks Michael if he can help break in the yearlings but Micheal denies and Matt gets frustrated and upset bc he’s never allowed to do anything and he’s just rotting away while being wrapped in blankets

so MW takes it upon himself and takes Matt out with him to the fields and watch the the herd (and maybe he is showing off a bit but y’know)

there they actually find a yearling that was left behind due to an injury

and Matt is all “we need to bring it back to the ranch I can help it”

you just know MW can’t say no even if the smarter solution would have been to shoot the horse

so they kinda snuck the horse in and Matt blossoms under the opportunity to finally show what he is capable of and do the things he loves and maybe, just maybe MW loses his heart just a little bit at the sight of it

(this is getting longer than I expected omg I’m so sorry)

anyway just a few scenes I think would be cute:

like Matt and MW doing the dishes and Matt says something that ends with “… right, MW?” and he answers with “Just call me Mike.” screaming crying also the light making everything soft and Matt smiling and saying “okay, Mike”

also this would take place before most of this but MW teasing Matt for always reading his books and studying and Matt saying “I’ve got nothing else, so what would be left of me if I didn’t continue studying, if I didn’t continue to learn? I would just rot away in this house with no dreams and perspectives.”

first kiss, actually haven’t thought about it much bc I always think about the angsty part of a story first lmao

but honestly I think it would happen in a chain of events, like Matt taking care of the yearling, MW leaning against the box and they are talking and then Matt passes him and MW holds him by the wrist and,,,,,,, kiss

honestly idk maybe that could also just be a cheep moment later on idk

anyway now to the angst:

Michael actually finds out and his overprotective older brother sirens all go off

what follows is Michaell throwing MW from the ranch and Matt gets house arrest to which he says “so nothings changing for me, you’ve already kept me as a prisoner for all my life.”

so Matt sneaks out of the house and he sorta steals a horse (can you really call it that when it’s your brothers and you live on the ranch too?) and goes after MW

incomes a storm, the stakes run high, Matt has a accident, MW finds him in the storm and brings him back to the ranch

Matt is delusional and sick for the following week and when he’s back to his normal self something has shifted

so while Michael and MW have worked their differences out (mainly just sitting together on the porch staring in the distance you know how that goes)

Matt has also come to a conclusion; that he can’t hide away and waist all of his life

so to conclude this absolute monster of a post MW and Matt get together again, Micheal wishes them their best regards and Matt starts to work on the ranch and looks after the horses as a vet (it’s a compromise bc Michael can’t let his baby brother go just yet but they are working on it just wait and see) and also yeah MW works at the ranch again too

the end

[reginaldqueribundus]

movies I recently watched

The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension (1984)

Buckaroo Banzai (Peter Weller) — yes that’s his name — is a neurosurgeon / rock star / racecar driver who sometimes works for the US President and also does weird science experiments. After he drives his rocket-truck through another dimension a mad scientist (played by John Lithgow as a crackhead with a bad Italian accent) tries to steal his technology thingy to free a bunch of alien war criminals trapped inside a mountain, and the other aliens are going to start a nuclear war with Russia if Buckaroo B. doesn’t stop them in time. Meanwhile he falls in love with a random lady who tries to shoot herself at one of his concerts and might be his dead wife’s identical twin. The film also features Jeff Goldblum as a doctor who dresses like a cowboy and Christopher Lloyd as an alien named “John Bigbooty”. And Clancy Brown, too!

There is way too much going on in this movie but it’s still kind of fun, and the weird cast makes it worthwhile. 6.5/10

Vesper (2022)

Vesper (Raffiella Chapman) is just your average girl who became a self-taught biogenetic engineer in hopes of gaining entrance to one of the Citadels where all the rich people live in comfort and safety from the world they destroyed. Her dad has Bedridden Movie Parent Disease but he controls a floating robot head that follows her around. This is one of those indie films starring a bunch of people you’ve never heard of except That One Guy (in this case Eddie Marsan as Vesper’s creepy uncle who I think wants to marry her? ewww). I enjoyed it except for one weird scene where Eddie Marsan kinda fingers a sci-fi lady’s neck vagina.

The plot is a hurricane of sci-fi tropes we’ve seen before, but the acting and production design are so good it doesn’t matter. 8/10

Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022)

Evelyn Wang (Michelle Yeoh) is a Chinese-American laundromat owner who just can't seem to get along with her gay daughter, her annoying husband, her disapproving elderly father, or the IRS. Naturally she’s also the chosen one who has to save the multiverse by brain-hijacking alternate versions of herself who have done way cooler stuff than her. Also James Hong, Sigourney Weaver and the guy who played Short Round are there.

This is a movie where Michelle Yeoh rides a teppanyaki chef down the street like a bicycle, desperately kung fu fights a man to stop him from shoving something up his ass, and has a passionate sapphic relationship with her IRS auditor in a universe where humans have hot dogs for fingers. What else can I say about it? It’s like Rick and Morty but somehow stupider and way more optimistic. Ultimately it’s less about the road not taken and more about connecting with the people in your life, here and now. I liked it. 9/10

Nope (2022)

OJ & his sister Em (Daniel Kaluuya & Keke Palmer) are trying to keep their dad’s movie stunt horse ranch afloat, but thar’s aliens in them thar hills. Along comes Ricky Park (Steven Yeun), a failed child actor / theme park owner who lost his capacity for good decision-making when he witnessed a chimp murder at the age of 9, to make everything worse. With the help of the world’s most dedicated Geek Squad member and a pretentious Hollywood filmmaker who talks like a chainsaw that smokes five packs a day, can the siblings get a video of the aliens and get rich? And, y’know, not die?

This is one of those movies where everything is a spoiler, but that somehow doesn’t reduce its rewatch value. A horror film in the truest sense of the word. It probably won’t jumpscare you, but you’ll be thinking about it for days. 9.5/10

[naitosutan]

This one second scene is so funny to me

Like, so much is happening with these characters and it’s just up for interpretation since they were never the focus LOL

Which I will now do cuz I love interpreting things and character dynamics 👀😂

(I’m sure plenty of others have already dissected and talked about this but I just started watching this show so I’m years behind 😩 Pls bear with me as I beat this dead horse to the ground lol and make some lighthearted jokes not to be taken seriously)

- Terrance and Fosse: have no idea what to do without Bill there to bounce off of and call things gay with 😩 (are they not gay without him? 🤔 lol jk)

- DogPoo: doing his best™ with the dance he probably just learned how to do copying something he saw on TV; he’s concentrating so hard compared to Pip and blue mittens guy who are vibing lol

- Annie and Clyde: the way she looked away as soon as he smiled to try to talk to her 😩 he is trying to make the best of this and she is REGRETTING being here with him ahakfljal

- Bebe: She don’t need no man!! One greeting to Mark was all she had in her before it was her time to work it! Look at her tearing up the dance floor with her moves!! “How’d you learn to dance like the rest of the world isn’t there?”

- Wendy and Tweek: from her best friend doing the EXACT same moves 😂 But they came separately cuz Wendy and Tweek are also besties who came to the dance together!! They definitely came as friends though cuz even though Tweek is watching her to follow her lead, Wendy is keeping things platonic by not making awkward eye contact! They’re besties vibing together who aren’t making things weird by starting off without eye contact that could be interpreted as an attempt at being romantic! Unlike

- Red and Tolkien: these two. Look at them. Look how awkward this is. Directly staring at each other. Her movements being less bouncy than his. They’re not in sync. I don’t know if they’re having fun. She’s concentrating on him while he tries to not look behind her at

- Kevin: this poor boy. The big sigh says it all. He’s definitely not having fun. Probably because Red is making direct eye contact and dancing with Tolkien. He’s like, DIRECTLY behind her so I wonder if they had just confronted each other and now she’s trying to ignore him? They ARE often together...

If I were to speculate and make up guess what happened, I would think Red had initially wanted to come to the dance with Kevin himself. But he’s a geek, dances aren’t his thing, especially if they aren’t sci-fi themed. No way would he have wanted to come. Which would be his big whoopsie™ cuz that left Red open to be invited to the dance by Tolkien. And she’s not gonna turn down a chance at having a good time at the dance just cuz her friend didn’t want to go with her! A bit disappointing but she can easily try to make the best of the situation. But of course, hearing that Red was going with Tolkien, now Kevin HAS to come to the dance too. Y’know, cuz he loves dances so much. Not to spy on them of course, but they still manage to run into each other at the dance anyways. (Read: she spotted him though he was trying to be sneaky.) This is another big whoopsie™ cuz guess he didn’t tell Red he was coming and she’s now upset that he’d rather slink around the dance alone than come with her. And Kevin… has no good reason as to why he came. Not any that made sense to him at least. He doesn’t really understand why he came and can’t explain it to Red either. So he lets her dance with Tolkien and he’s just… there. Kinda stuck to his spot. She’s also upset and wants to move on with the night and Tolkien, the poor guy, he doesn’t understand the situation but it’s awkward. The eye contact with Red is awkward. The avoided eye contact with Kevin behind her is awkward. His bro Clyde trying to talk to Annie is awkward. Everything about this dance is awkward. But he’s gonna still try to vibe, man. 

[iluffyouxo]

𝐜𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

the walking dead — Daryl Dixon X black, female oc

—

𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵?

Jessie and her sons were holding a welcoming party—quite late, if you asked me. Almost two months had gone by since we fell upon this makeshift haven. I sigh as I cross my right leg over the other, taking a seat at the very top of the staircase. I gaze over the occupants of smiling faces and joyful laughter. I, myself, let the ghost of a meaningful smile dance at my lips, until I remembered exactly why I had sat up here in the first place. I frown.

Our entire group was here (even Rick, though I could tell he still remained skeptical of it all), but there was one man I had yet to find in the crowd. One man I hoped to call my husband soon.

“Where the hell is Daryl?” A playful tone voiced my very thoughts. And my smile returns to my face. It was Glenn. “Hey! I haven’t seen you in a few days!” I exclaimed over the hushed hum of Johnny Stimson sounding through a CD player. Glenn gives me a soft grin. “Yeah, Maggie’s been wanting to spend some alone time together. ‘S not like we ever get to have this much peace and quiet.” I nod. “Ah—young couples in love,” I mockingly swoon. His laugh is short before his look turns to one of concern. “Speaking of couples, you didn’t answer my question: where’s Daryl?” I sigh dejectedly and shrug. “I only know as much as you do. He was gone by the time I was done getting ready.” Glenn returns my sighs with a slow pat on my hand. “No worries, I’m sure he’ll show up sooner or later,” he states reassuringly. But, even I could tell that he wasn’t so sure of his own words. I nod again. “Yeah…sure.”

I step out into the dusk that had taken over the day, my block heels clicking against the faded pavement. I had left the party a little early—it wasn’t any fun if I couldn’t embarrass Daryl with a kiss to his hand—and walked aimlessly around Alexandria. Maybe Daryl had gone out on a run? I shake my head with a huff at the possibility. “If that were the case, he would’ve told me. Besides…half the town is at Jessie’s,” I murmur to myself. That’s when I catch the sudden buzz of chatter.

“Hey, man, who is that?” A low rumble slurs. “That’s Dixon’s girl,” another voice echoes. “Dixon’s girl? You sure about that James?”

“Hell yeah. I see ‘em together all the time.”

“How’d he pull a killer like that? Ain’t he gay or somethin’?” Then, there was obnoxious chortling from the two men (whom were clearly drunk off their high horse). “I dunno, but I heard he hasn’t even kissed her yet. What a man, yeah? Ain’t even fully claimed his territory!” And their boisterous howling continues.

I roll my eyes but trudge onward. I’m just glad Daryl wasn’t around to hear any of that. Despite what many people believe…he was quite fragile. And tended to shut down and become distant whenever his feelings were hurt or something serious just didn’t seem to want to go his way. However, my relief was cut rather short as I spotted him a few feet away (definitely within earshot of the two men) leaning against the church while babysitting the butt of a cigarette.

“Daryl?” I call out to him, my footsteps light and my breathing heavy. “Y’know, I’ve been looking all over for you.” He doesn’t meet my gaze but he grunts, letting me know that he at least acknowledges my presence. I sigh. “You heard them, didn’t you?” He only grunts again confirming my speculations. “You really shouldn’t listen to stuff like that.” That’s when he turns to look at me, his icy eyes already growing cold. “And why not? It’s true.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Like hell it is! Do you really think I believe what two assholes think about our relationship? What we’ve been through is what we know. And what I know for damn sure is that I love you. Whether you say it back or not, whether you finally kiss me or not, isn’t gonna change the fact that I care for you.”

He only blinks down at me, his lips slightly parted, and dammit all if he didn’t look so kissable right now! I groan in frustration. “Daryl, really? C’mon,” I huff, “I want to marry you for fuck’s sake! You weirdo.”

And I’m met with the joyful chuckle of his gruff voice. The cigarette he was holding now dropped and squished with the heel of his boot. “Nobody’s ever told me they wanted to marry me before. Bishop, ya truly som’, y’know that?” I pat the side of his face. “Yeah, I know.”

My hand lingers on his cheek for a while, my thumb rubbing across the small hairs on his chin. His eyes were beginning to brighten again and I felt a fluttering in the pit of my stomach. “Can I kiss you?” I blink slowly at that, too shocked to speak. I give him a quick nod of my head. And that’s all he needs to lower his head just a few inches below his normal height before his lips meet mine.

There were no fireworks as the books used to claim but I felt my legs give in as if I were melting into him, and he’s quick to wrap his arms around my torso to support me. “Sorry,” he mumbles against my neck as he nuzzles his head into my shoulder, “I haven’t kissed too many people.” I chuckle against his hair. “Really? I couldn’t tell, it was perfect to me.”

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

so I just read Clementine Book One and now I taste nothing but salt

here are my first impression notes-

the spoiler free version: It’s bad. Like things weren’t great but I was vibin’ until about chapter 8, then it took a nose dive into shit. 

Can’t wait to read it several more times and write up the full review because ha ha I have a lot to say and very little of it is nice. 

1/5 stars, and yes, Amos makes up that one star, otherwise this would get nothing from me. 

the spoiler version: 

before I even begin, I should give a brief summary of how I’m feeling, that way I can compare the pre-read/post-read feelings: Ugh. I feel ugh. 

now that we’ve documented that, let’s begin.

alright, not even a a full page in and I’m already so blehh about this not being in color. For those who don’t know, color is important in Tillie Walden’s other works. In my opinion, the way she uses color is the best thing about her work because it compliments her messier style of linework, working with it rather than against it. But when everything is greyscale, it’s so boring and lifeless... sure, it’s the walking dead and the world sucks and I’m sure skybound wanted this comic to match the others so Tillie doesn’t even get to work with the thing she excels at.... great. 

sooooo Clementine is on crutches, she’s using them and a knife to kill a bunch of walkers........ why isn’t she covering herself in walker guts in order to make it past herds without having to fight and run? y’know, like a smart person? 

she broke her peg leg and fell down... and the very first thing we get outta her as far as dialogue is “euch”..... amazing

gasp, is that an Amos I see? must be, Clementine’s glaring at him. 

“what’s it like on the road? are there lots of devils ‘n stuff?” oh please tell me that these people call the walkers “devils,” please, that’s hilarious

Okay, so remember Denny? The guy who was in the teaser pages we got forever ago but I wasn’t sure of his name so I just named him Denny because he was a dentist. Turns out his name is Rabby, but I’m tempted to keep calling him Denny just outta spite.

Still rolling my eyes at the fact that this Clementine doesn’t know how to take care of her leg as if she doesn’t know basic first aid. 

Yes, Clementine, obviously you have to wash your leg regularly to prevent infection, obviously you have to redress it often, you should know that. 

Anyway, Denny is a chill dude, too bad Clementine is so insistent on getting outta there so she can climb a tree. 

“Hey! Hat boy! You’ve got company!” .......hat boy. Ugh. 

not impressed with the overall dialogue so far, you can really feel that this isn’t a telltale voice, y’know? 

y’know, this Clementine feels like if ANF Clementine never found AJ and TFS never happened, she just went on with her angst train, lost her leg some other way, and now ended up here. 

I’m glad Amos finds Clem funny, because I find her dull.... god that’s not a sentence I want to be typing. 

...Alright, I don’t know what’s supposed to be happening, Clementine and Amos [mostly Amos, Clementine wanted to leave] saved three? I think I could three? people and it looked like one of them was gonna turn into a walker but no? he’s not? I’m sorry, was he trying to crawl forward and Clem took that as a threat? did he grab her and she attacked? I think that’s the implication since she them stomped on his hand and someone else in the carriage said “what did you do to that girl?” ..... sure wish I could tell what the hell was actually happening.

but also, not at all surprised that Tillie would throw in a “and then Clementine got groped by an old man,” based on some of her other novels. 

Oh..... Helen is the horse. Pfffttttt..... it took me how many pages to realize Amos is talking about the horse and not someone back at the town?? uuughhhhhh

Amos is literally the only likable thing so far. He actually has a voice and personality whereas Clementine is just an angsty piece of bread. 

Ugh. Evil twins who won’t give their names. 

PFFFTTT.... oh no, the evil twins killed Helen! Who could’ve seen that coming?? Literally everyone??? SKSKSKSKS

Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh about a dead horse but c’mon, the cheapest way to get a reader/viewer to feel something is to kill an animal and like, now Amos is all sad and I’m shaking my head and sipping my wine. 

oh good, the new love interest is here. 

......what. why are you blushing and looking at Clementine already? y’all met two seconds ago and had one conversation.

They’re calling the twins Right and Left.... alright then. 

Amos is my favorite so far. He’s the only one who has gotten a laugh outta me. 

Nawww look at the three of them being friends, this is tooooootally gonna last, mmhmmm....

oop Ricca made a remark about Clem’s leg and she got upset, now Amos is sick. Lame. 

AH YES, LEAVE AMOS ALONE AND SICK WITH THE EVIL TWINS, THAT’S FINE SKSKSKS

oh my god, this whole Clementine and Ricca “romance” is so.... not even a romance, I’m cackling 

KJASLKJLAKJDSLKJSAD WHY

WHY THOUGH

oh now we’re just gonna info dump Ricca’s backstory? turns out she had a brother who used to push her ahead when checking for danger and then broke her glasses so that she had to rely on him until she found another working pair, so then she abandoned him and never looked back. 

CLEMENTINE NAMED HER LEG KENNY THAT REVIEW WAS RIGHT I CAN’T WHAT A GARBAGE CHOICE

Kenny was probably one of the worst people to have Clementine name her leg after. Naming her prosthetic leg after the guy who beat the shit out of Arvo... the kid who wore a brace on his leg? who struggled more and more to move around the more Kenny beat him up? great choice. 

“he was moody” HHAHAHAHHAHA YEAH THAT’S ONE WAY TO DESCRIBE KENNY SURE

Oh for fucks sake, we’re gonna flashback to AJ cutting off her leg, huh? why bother?

who the fuck is this???

Tim???? Who the fuck is Tim??? AND HE GOT BIT SAVING CLEMENTINE 

I’m laughing

what is even happening

Amos and one of the twins wanna run off.... what

okay seriously, the art is making it so hard to understand what the hell is happening

...........what

what

what

what

do you hear that? in the distance? that’s me... I’m laughing. Why? Because the evil twin fucking pushed Amos off a cliff and then stomped on her sister.... she literally murdered Amos and it came out of FUCKING NO WHERE

Amos was the one good character in this book and you killed him. You killed the only good thing. What is this pacing? there was no set up for that, you just pushed him, and I’m..... what the fuck is this writing?

Oh, and apparently one of the twins isn’t evil. Olivia is supposedly good but the other one is evil. I know this because sHE PUSHED AMOS OFF A CLIFF 

OKAY

I’m fucking choking on my wine because for the first time, I’m legit pissed. 

The reason Clementine left the school? the REAL reason? Clementine left Ericson because “But after I lost my leg, everything felt different. No one *said* it, but I could feel it. They thought I was a liability. But I think the real issue... was that I couldn’t talk to and of them about it. They were all around my age, and I... I just wanted to talk to Lee about it. Someone older, and I don’t know....”

Are you

Are you fucking serious

Are you shitting me

are you fucKING

oh my god

oh my fucking hell 

I 

you

...............................

Tillie, Skybound, we need to talk because you 

I am so 

........................

Ricca just called Clementine baby.

oh and she’s shot

and the evil twin is dead

but who gives a shit, really?

my entire mouth tastes of salt what the fuck

they found a stupid plane but I no longer care about anything, I’m mad that Amos is dead for no reason other and that THAT was the reason Clementine left

“Continued in Book 2″ oh fuck off

So, how do I feel now? compared to when I started? I feel UUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH

Take that as you will. 

Stay turned for the full review. Don’t know when it’ll be out but I gotta read this stupid thing a couple more times before I start. Ugh. 

[twigstarpikachutroll22]

Class watched Mulan today for the heck of it and I’m just gonna make a list of stuff I either had forgotten about or really hadn’t appreciated as much before this viewing of it as I hadn’t watched it in a long time.

The way that Mulan’s dad’s only response to the whole matchmaker fiasco is to sit by her and tell her about how one of the flowers on the tree is late to bloom but he bets it’ll be the most beautiful one when it does, clearly comparing her to that? She was shamed in front of everycreature, told she was a disgrace and would never bring her family honor, and she believed it, and he’s not mad one bit and he still has such faith in her 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💗💗💗💗

The way that before we see Li Shang as a tough military leader and trainer we see him as a slightly awkward dude who really wants to make his dad proud. The impact of having that be his Establishing Character Moment. The humanizing that that does. Bro. 👏👏👏

That one moment where after Shan Yu releases those two soldiers he just terrified the heck out of so they can run and tell the emperor to send his strongest men because he’s ready for them, he says “How many men does it take to deliver a message?” And one of the huns draws back an arrow and says “One.” And then there’s just a cut to black. They don’t need to show us what happens.  Actually chilling. 

That one moment where Mulan’s horse just tramples Mushu. And looks so gleeful about it too. XD XD XD XD XD

Y’know that one tumblr post about exactly how much of a Gut Punch it is when A Girl Worth Fighting For is abruptly interrupted by them all seeing that village completely decimated with no survivors to be found? Y e a h . 

That moment when it turns out Shang’s dad and his entire army are dead??????????????????????? The huns literally wiped them ALL out?????????????? Including Shang’s dad???????????????????? Holy frick????????????????????

Mulan setting that little doll down in front of the sword Shang left there with his father’s helmet... The camera lingering on that... The attention drawn to it, to the fact that there were literal children in that village who died, who were killed...

That one moment when after Mulan hugs the emperor, Yao just says to the others “Is she allowed to do that?” XD

After Shang’s stuttery awkward “you fight good <3″ moment and Mulan riding away, the Emperor literally just takes a moment to tell Shang “you don’t meet a girl like that every dynasty 😏” THE LITERAL EMPEROR TAKES A MOMENT TO TELL SHANG “hey. i saw that look. go date her, ya goof.” 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂

The way that when Mulan presents her father with Shan Yu’s sword and the medal the emperor gave her, he just puts them aside and hugs her and says “The greatest gift in honor is having you for a daughter”???? Like?????? He loved her before she was a war hero,,,,,,, back when she was just the girl everycreature thought was a disgrace ‘cause she wasn’t good at the traditional bride stuff,,,,, she never had to prove herself to him,,,,, b r o 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

[acegarlicloaf]

And that’s that! Finished season 2! Oooooooh my goodness. That was incredible! That finale was a lot to take in. I don’t know what else to say! I have chills!

My brain’s going at 100 miles per hour, I’m still processing it, but wow. I have no idea how they’re gonna wrap everything up in three 44 minute episodes while still including Luz and Amity’s mundane, slice of life date!

Yes, of course that’s what I’m thinking about right now, lol. I will never get over “Crikey!”

Seriously though, this show is amazing, it was just what I needed right now, and sorry for beating a dead horse, but I will never forgive Disney for cancelling this brilliant show. It really breaks my heart that it has to end so soon. But I shouldn’t focus on the negative right now. I literally only started watching this show a couple days ago, but I know I’m gonna be thinking about it for a while.

I look forward to rewatching this as I force my friends to watch this show and suffer (affectionate) like I did.

To anyone that followed along with my Owl House 100% Speedrun, I hope some of my reactions provided you with one of those little exhales through the nose (y’know the kind I mean).

[griffintail]

I had this idea, I dunno if it’s dumb or not, but I figured if anyone knew it would be you! Y’know, cause you seem like you know way more than me about all these mcyt guys and gals? Anyways, I saw that a lot of people headcanon that Shlatt was Tubbo’s dad, and seeing all those dad!Shlatt AUs gave me an idea:

What if after Shlatt’s dead, after things have settled, after Tubbo becomes president and spends most of his time cleaning up the messes and mistakes Shlatt left behind- he discovers he wasn’t Shlatt’s only child. He finds handwritten letters in Shlatt’s files from a distant village, all of them fairly recent, asking him for child support money, or asking him to take “his mistake” with him. But the last letter Tubbo finds is a typed one informing Shlatt that the woman who sent all the previous letters has died, and that he has 1 month to come collect his child, or they’ll become a ward of the state; it’s been roughly 2 and a half weeks since that letter arrived. How would Tubbo react to all of this, and more importantly, would he take on the responsibility of becoming his new sibling’s guardian?

I don’t know how I became the person to come to for this lol. I hope you enjoy!

The Girl with the Horns

Pairings: Brother! Tubbo x Child! F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of emotional abuse, Implied Buillying, Swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Tubbo looked up the old White House building, taking a deep breath before going in. Inside, he immediately scrunched up his nose at the familiar smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

        “Damn it, dad.” He muttered under his breath before starting to clean up the building.

        He said he’d clean the building out himself as his father was the one who trashed it and now was that day. A lot of his presidency was cleaning up Schlatt’s mistakes before he even ran the rest of his new country. He sighed as he put another empty bottle in a trash bag. Schlatt had really lost it running things.

        Slowly but surely, Tubbo was able to get the White House to a much cleaner state. He was now in the main office and was searching the drawers for his father's inevitable “secret” booze stashes when he found some handwritten letters tucked in the very back of the drawer. Frowning, Tubbo took them out and saw them all addressed to Schlatt.

        Sitting down, Tubbo read the letter on top and his eyes went wide, back going straight as he reread the words before him.

        I want money for this child you helped bring into this world!

        A child?

        The rest of the letter was talking about asking for child support and Tubbo was floored. Quickly, he read the next letter and it was much of the same, demanding Schlatt to take responsibility.

        “Holy shit…” Tubbo muttered. “I got…I got a sibling?”

        He made his way through the rest of the letters, his heart clenching when the woman writing the letters called his poor sibling a mistake or made stabs at Schlatt.

        Then the last letter was a lot more formal. It was stamped with an official seal and dated. Schlatt had opened it as told by the broken seal but had obviously also put the letter back without a care after reading. Tubbo’s breath hitched as he read the letter though.

          Dear Mr. Jschlatt:

        We are sorry to inform you Miss Trentha has passed in an accident.

        Behind, she has left a five-year-old (Y/N), of which in our records has your name on her birth papers. We will give you a month’s time to make a decision; after, we will have no choice but to send (Y/N) to become a ward of the state.

                Tubbo quickly looked at the date of when the letter was sent.

        “Two and a half weeks!” Tubbo exclaimed as he jumped up. “Shit! What should I do?”

        He looked around the office he had spent time cleaning trying to process everything at once, words failing him. In a few short moments, he had found out he wasn’t an only child, that Schlatt hadn’t even looked back at this girl or her horrible mother, and that the sibling he just found out about was going to become a ward of the state! Schlatt had at least been kind enough to Tubbo to let Philza raise him but this child going into the adoption system…

        “I-I got to run L’Manberg. There’s so much to do.” Tubbo ran a hand through his hair as he panicked.

        But then Tommy’s words echoed in his head.

        You can’t become the next Schlatt.

        Schlatt was obviously going to let this child fend for themselves, Tubbo couldn’t be his father. He had to at least meet them. With a new will, he gathered around his friends, and with reassurances that they had L’Manberg covered, Tubbo set off on a horse to the village. It was a good three-day journey, so he’d only have roughly a week left to make his decision of what he was going to do.

        Coming to the village, Tubbo took a deep breath as he stared at it. What was she going to be like? She probably didn’t have the best raising based on the letters that the mother sent. Tying up the horse outside the main hall, Tubbo went in, going through the various processes to prove that he was indeed Jschlatt’s child and proving that his father was dead.

        After, they took Tubbo to a home where a bunch of children were outside playing but there was one that stood out among them and it wasn’t because she was sitting alone. It was because she had tiny horns on top of her head that were just starting to come in. Tubbo put a hand on his horns that were just starting to curl without thinking.

        “That’s (Y/N).” The man that led him here nodded to the little girl.

        “She’s five, right?” Tubbo asked.

        “Yes. She’s not very talkative, but you can introduce yourself to her.”

        Tubbo had few guesses why she didn’t want to talk. He went over, a few of the other kids were pointing at him. (Y/N) was using a stick to push images in the dirt, looking up when a shadow got in the way of the sun. Tubbo smiled when he saw her surprise when she looked up at him, he sitting next to her, wearing his casual wear rather than his suit.

        “Hi. I’m Tubbo.” He introduced himself to her.

        (Y/N) was silent as she stared obviously at his horns. “You have horns…”

        “Yeah, I do. I’m a ram just like you.”

        “Really?” She met his eyes now.

        “Mhm. I, uh, I actually knew your dad because he was my dad.”

        She shifted as she looked back at the ground. “Daddy was a bad man.”

        Tubbo winced, putting a hand on his neck. “Why do you say that?”

        “Mommy use to say that.”

        “Ah. Well…dad wasn’t the greatest, I agree. It wasn’t nice for him to leave you alone.”

        The little girl was silent and Tubbo tried to think of a subject change.

        “Do you like drawing?”

        She nodded. “Mommy wouldn’t let me use paper but I like drawing in the dirt.”

        “Oh…do you…have any friends?”

        She put a hand on one of her little horns and he immediately understood.

        “I get it.” He smiled gently, putting a hand on his horn. “I didn’t have a lot of friends until I met my best friend Tommy. I’m sure you will find some friends.”

        His heart melted as she gave him her first small smile. “I hope so.”

        He sat with her just talking away, the time passing so fast without either of them knowing as they talked. He felt like he learned so much but so little about her; yet, he loved every moment sitting with her. She had to go back with the other children of the orphanage but within a few hours, Tubbo made up his mind. He couldn’t leave this little girl with everyone else; he’d take her back to L’Manberg.

        So, in the morning, Tubbo put on his suit to be professional and he did the paperwork before waiting for them to bring (Y/N). (Y/N) came in timidly and Tubbo smiled gently as he crouched in front of her.

        “Hey, so, I don’t want to leave without you, would you like to come with me? I can introduce you to a few of my good friends.”

        “…They’re all nice like you, right?”

        He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, a few of them are pretty nice.”

        She looked around but nodded. “Ok.”

        He grinned as he stood up. “Then I’m going to take you back to my home.”

        They got the few things that she owned and Tubbo put them on the horse. After, Tubbo changed into more appropriate riding clothes before getting on with (Y/N).

        “Alright, here we go.” He muttered before getting the horse to go.

        Off they went to L’Manberg, Tubbo making sure they had shelter each night. It was a bit stressful for Tubbo on these few days. He had gotten used to not eating every day but he had to remember now to make sure (Y/N) ate. He also had to remember this was boring as hell for her so he tried his best to make little games as they galloped along. There was a point he went off on a bee tangent for half an hour after spotting one and pouted to himself when he saw (Y/N) had fallen asleep against him but he kept an arm wrapped around her so she didn’t fall off.

        As he got back to L’Manberg, he huffed as he saw Tommy and Fundy arguing as Quackity was laughing, Ranboo standing to the side awkwardly. Yeah, that’s how he expected his cabinet to act with him gone. He tied up his horse, grabbing (Y/N)’s things before taking her hand as he walked over to them. As the pair went over, (Y/N) hide behind him shyly.

        “Guys!” Tubbo called.

        “Tubbo! Tell this furry bitch—” Tommy started.

        “Oh, fuck off Tommy!” Fundy shouted back.

        They started having another go.

        “GUYS!” Tubbo shouted, making (Y/N) jump with the rest of the group. “I have someone for you to meet, so can you shut it?”

        Tommy spotted the little girl peeking out from behind Tubbo, noticing the horns first.

        “Holy shit, she has horns like yours.” Tommy went around Tubbo.

        “Yeah, this is (Y/N), she’s my little sister.”

        “A sister?!” Tommy looked at Tubbo surprised.

        Tubbo nodded. “I adopted her.”

        “I’m sorry?”

        “It’s a long story but I’m back and I’m got to bring her to my house,” Tubbo told them before walking off, feeling the little girl squeeze his hand tighter, probably getting overwhelmed.

        They got to Tubbo’s house and he looked around.

        “Er…You can have my room. I’ll need to make you a room.” He smiled at her.

        “Ok…thank you.”

        He patted her head between her horns. “I couldn’t leave you behind sis. Let’s get you settled in and I can make us some steak. Sound good?”

        She nodded.

        Tubbo knew it would be stressful learning to take care of another human while he had to run a nation but he had his friends to help him. He hoped he could do all this right.

[islandofsages]

you will be fine.

summary: in which they assure you that failure is an unsuspecting visitor and if it drops by, it is welcome.

characters: thoma, xinyan, zhongli and gn!reader

tags: platonic, modern au, drabble

warnings: hugging if you’re uncomfy with that, reader is Panicking, that’s it really

author's notes: im retaking my driver’s license test for the third time tomorrow and needless to say, im scared as hell. i dont wanna let people down again and also spend a fuckton of money just so i can retake the stupid test. im tired of people being disappointed in me so im calming myself down by writing about my faves. please pray for me. oh and enjoy lol

word count: 0.7k

“Look, (Y/N), just calm down and you’ll be fine-”

“HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BE CALM??? WHAT IF I FAIL AGAIN???”

You’ve been distraught since the wee early morning, ever since the moment you opened your eyes and nothing has been successful in trying to calm you down. Zhongli has been nice enough to help drive you all to the institute (because of course he’s the only one with a license) and while you don’t want to discredit what he has done for you (and what Xinyan is attempting to do), you can’t help but feel pressured. Thoma only sighs.

“But what if you succeed? It’s just as possible as failing.”

“Thoma. That’s exactly why I’m scared. Because I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me out there. Anything can happen.”

You know it’s the anxiety speaking which is why you are so weirdly defensive over the thought of potentially failing - but you can’t help it. Especially because you’ve failed so many times before and there’s always a chance of it happening again. You’ve heard horror stories about people having to repeat the test more than a dozen times and you fear that you’ll end up like them sooner or later…

“‘Anything’ does include success, (Y/N). You will do well, no matter what the actual results will be. All three of us truly believe that.”

Zhongli contributes and somehow, you feel yourself calm down somewhat. Perhaps it is the comfort that lies in the trust that your best friends have for you, that they will be proud of you regardless of your performance. Of course, they want to see you triumph finally, after all your hard work and effort and failed attempts. But nothing fruitful is borne out of beating a dead horse - you just have to keep trying as always, and they will just have to support you as always.

Even if your parents have to be disappointed with you again and again, even if your instructor has to see your face for months to come, even if your wallet has to be emptied every week…you’re doing whatever it takes to get that beautiful, beautiful license. So that your friends can finally put their faith in you for a good reason.

“Sigh…alright. I’ll try my very best. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m still freaking out inside but…”

The three only laugh; Thoma shaking his head in amusement, Xinyan giggling and Zhongli simply chuckling to himself. You tilt your head in confusion and a slight irritation bugs you at the back of your head. You put your hands on your hips and assume a (hopefully) superior pose and expression.

“What’s so darn funny?”

“No, it’s nothing, it’s just that…we know, (Y/N). How could you not be freaking out? I know I will when my time comes!” Xinyan replies and you let out a sigh of relief. And just like that, you’re already feeling relaxed, that sense of impending doom gone without a trace. You start to feel a bit confident even. But perhaps that’s going a bit too far. Well, even if you fail, at least you’re a step ahead of Thoma and Xinyan still. They’re still stuck in lessons and grumpy instructors.

“Even if this is yet another retake?” “So what if it’s a retake? At least you’re determined to come back. Some people just give up y’know.”

Thoma reassures you once again and you silently thank whatever higher being is up there for granting you such great friends. Little does Thoma know, but you’re quite sure that you wouldn’t even be this determined if they aren’t here for you. But even if determination is no personal trait of yours, they couldn’t care less about that.

“Precisely. So worry not, friend. Just keep calm and you will do fine.”

Zhongli concludes the conversation there and you nod confidently. When you hear your number being called, you quickly hug every single one of your friends for an extra boost of courage and wave everyone goodbye. As much as you feel like you’re a lamb being herded into a slaughterhouse, you feel a ray of hope shine down upon you.

“Alright then…it’s now or never.”