#fangirls gone wild

[ourtubahero-blog]

They broke us and they broke us good.

[redishflavor]

if you saw the other one no you didn't

someone's John dory ask got eaten and I can't find my previous draft on it 😔

A/N -> I'll be starting school soon again so I won't be able to write as many fanfics as right now, but still send it requests! I just won't be able to publish them as fast as before 😅

but anyways (this is way longer than my last one damn)

John dory x reader headcanons

okay let's get one thing straight

this man has been in the wild for over idk how many years

he probably is secretly touch starved

and he's probably really bad at flirting

let's say this is after the events of TBT, so he's back in society again (probably)

hes bumped into you a few times and during those few times it was just some small talk here and there

but then when he bumped into you again he decided to flirt

with a terrible pick up line

after he said that he gave a look that was like "Yep, still got it"

he does not got it

you just looked at him, looked away and snorted

he thinks it's working

it might be

without him asking, you gave him your number on a peice of paper

there was a small not under the number (yall choose idk what to put) with a small heart at the end

(ur stinky but funny ❤️) (I sorry I had to😭😭)

he didn't read the note, he js put it on his wall in a frame

he was the first to text you

just a simple "Hi this is John dory"

and you know how some people type something but not send it?

he did that

"PLEASE PLEASE DATE ME 🙏🙏" then he deleted it to respond 'normally' to your text

after a few weeks of talking to each other you were the first to ask if he wanted to go on a date

he probably has never responded so fast to someone on his life

I js had to add this but he probably lost his other glove bc Rhonda ate it

anyways back on track

the first date you two went on was at a small Cafe (idk I panicked😭)

you two talked about a hunch of stuff but then settled on the topic of bands

one of your favorite band was BroZone

his eyes visibly lit up at the word BroZone

asks a bunch on questions like "who's your favorite band member" or "what's you favorite song"

takes his SWEET TIME telling you he's THE John Dory from BroZone

so many questions from both him and you

but after that date he offers to walk you home

and that's also how he got your address

a few more dates later he's the one to make the first move

a small text saying to meet him up at the Cafe they had their first date in

hes already there looking a bit flustered

after you two sit down he asks if you want to date

and that's how yall start dating (I am so sleepy rn guys)

every now and then he would send small gifts to you like flowers, candies, anything that reminds him of you at almost any store he goes to

he likes compliments, both giving and receiving them

when he's spending the day at your place he likes to cuddle with you

or hold you in any way

hug, hand holding, any touch basically

LOVES when you kiss him

like pepper him with kisses and he's melting

grab a bucket and mop he's gone

when he first introduced you to his brothers they had many questions

when Poppy met you (probably through Branch)

you two both bonded over dating a member of brozone

as you and Poppy were fangirling over them JD just looked at you lovingly

like he almost forgot his brothers were there

he loves you too much

he also gets you free tickets and backstage passes to every single one of BroZone's concerts

you've never missed a single concert

and you have way to much merch (mostly JD's merch) (and it's signed with his signature)

I think I might end it here bc I'm running out of ideas and any longer to post this would end up taking longer to post because school starts in like 2 says for me 😭😭 anyways I hope this was good for whoever asked this and again so sorry I lost your ask! I hope you have a great day/night!!

[bleedingcoffee42]

The only thing I'm taking away from all of these new files is that the men of Easy company gossiped like a bunch of highschoolers.

And I love it.

THEY DID. And it doesn't help that Ambrose has an agenda for the interviews which is A)Talk shit about Sobel B)Tell me about Mr. Mysterious Ron Spears and I'll cut you off if you actually liked him C)Was Lewis Nixon always drunk? D) fangirl over Webster and try to get the guy he was interviewing to agree with him.

AND Then there was the reunion where some guys got a 13 chapter preview and others didn't. THEN the reunion when the book came out which is implied to be like a book club gone nuclear. And all the letters to Ambrose apologizing on behalf of their friends which means it got back to Ambrose somehow the boys were pissed.

AND MY FAVORITE BULLSHIT is the ye old screenshot of private conversations circa 1990s which was Ambrose photocopying everything and sending it to Winters and Winters immediately coming out of the unsuspected sender's mailbox with a folding chair to set them straight, with documentation. Dick sent Lip a nasty letter. Hit General Matheson with a frickin 'Maybe you're old and your memory is shit here is the map to refresh your memory' and the poor West Pointer from Fox company who tried to step in and say Henry Jones was super loved by his men when he died and he didn't remember the patrols going like that only to have Dick slap back. It's wild.

I don't know how these guys survived this book.

And Nix IS the smartest man ever for just Noping out of this bullshit. And Sparky is honestly super polite about it even though Dick goes into harassment territory to get him to talk to Ambrose/Show up for the reunion/get interviewed. I honestly think Ron's wife left the phone off the hook when they went to Montana because her husband already had major heart surgery and was talking he was on death's doorstep and talking to Dick more than likely got him riled up and had him popping blood pressure pills like TicTacs.

I do want to go back in time and fight Ambrose on Lipton's lawn. Chalk it up to an affront on my professionalism for how he conducts interviews. Plus how everyone tried to protect Compton, Ambrose even goes in saying 'I'm not sure how I'm going to write this' and then goes about it in the worst possible way so that his mailbox is filled with Letters of 'YOU CAN NOT PUT THIS IN PRINT'.

But up until this time, up until Ambrose stepped in, they were already all creating these different narratives of how things went down. 30 ft away in one foxhole dudes were probably gossiping.

Buck Taylor was the last one I read who sends Dick a letter and the gist of it it "So..I am not dead like the rumors say. I didn't die in a plane crash in the Pacific. I was working for the CIA. I have no idea where anyone got that?" NO IDEA EITHER man.

It's wild. I'm loving it.

[muddyorbsblr]

i have never

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: When you reveal to your co-stars that you've never had a positive experience kissing anyone, let alone a good experience doing more than kissing, Tom visits you in your hotel room to rectify that situation.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: steamy moments (this is 1 of the 2 non-smut stories from this collection); language; mention of bleeding

Things to be aware of: coworkers to lovers; reader isn't inexperienced but she's had horrendous experience

"Okay I might need help with this, I gotta be honest."

You showed the page that you placed a little pink post-it flag on to your female co-stars, Scarlett and Lizzie, the flag pointing to the part of the script that showed your character had to kiss Loki and a look of 'contentment and relief' had to be visible on your face.

"Wait why? You've had kissing scenes before," Lizzie prodded, looking at the surrounding dialogue of the kiss.

"Yeah, I know, but those kisses were meant to be awkward and I had to be visibly uncomfortable, which is great because that's all I know how to be when a guy kisses me." You grimaced as memories of sloppy, teeth-knocking, way too rough kisses gone wrong began to flash through your mind like a train wreck slideshow.

"Oh sweetie…if you're worried that it's gonna be bad because Tom's going to make it uncomfortable, you got nothing to worry about," Scarlett commented with a chuckle. "Man's never had a bad kiss scene in his life. Ask Lizzie."

"Mmhmm. Yup. Can confirm," the redhead said with a playful grin on her face.

"Well that's all well and good but I'm not worried about him giving me a bad kiss. I'm worried that I will." You slumped your shoulders as they gave you doubtful looks. "Alright then let me put it this way. All the kisses I've had off camera are…fucking awful. On camera I can look past because it's supposed to be awkward and dorky and maybe even so cringe I wouldn't wanna watch it even if you paid me. But the guys I've kissed in private? Let's just say that the least traumatizing kiss I've had ended with my lip bleeding because the fucker bit me too hard."

"Babes, that's absolutely awful!" Lizzie looked at you with her jaw to the floor. "Are you telling us that every guy you've slept with is—"

"Fucking awful? Yep. They didn't have any redeeming qualities. And before you even ask, yes, that means that I have fucking faked it. For years. No one's ever got me to the promised land." You slumped in your chair from the admission. "So that's why I need help. I haven't the first idea how to even look like I'm content because every experience I've ever had is…subpar."

The two promised to help you until you three were called to set, imparting knowledge about imagining a wave of calm overtaking you coupled with the contradicting feeling of a wild fluttering in your stomach. Actions-wise, to pull him closer, as if you couldn't possibly be close enough, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. And the desperation that implied this was a last kiss, because ultimately it would be for your characters, considering the tragic death the Russo brothers had in mind for Loki.

It'd also be the first and last kiss you'd have with the man you'd had a raging crush on since years before you were even a blip on Marvel's radar, so you took all their advice to heart just to make sure that at the very least you didn't leave a horrible impression with him once this scene was over.

After all, you still had all of promo period to get through and considering that the Marketing team had already found your old socials from high school and had concrete evidence that you absolutely had a phase where you shamelessly fangirled over Tom Hiddleston, they would most likely test your sanity and pair you off with him for some, if not most, of the press junkets.

That was the whole reason you were currently in one of the dining tents, your head slumped down on a table as you watched a whole bunch of kissing scenes on YouTube while you furiously jotted down notes on the back of your script. Your scenes were finished for the day, and all you had to do was wait for someone in the costume department to assist you out of your costume. You retrieved your phone from security, meaning you were no longer allowed on any of the filming sets considering how careful all the execs were about spoilers getting out.

"Elizabeth told me I'd likely find you here." You jumped in your seat at the dulcet tone of Tom's voice filling the former quiet of the tent, quickly straightening your posture and turning your phone off, putting the face down on top of your notes. "Apologies. I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no, it's all good, really," you chuckled out, the nerves beginning to peek through in your shaky tone. It was borderline impossible keeping your composure around him considering that he'd been in a tight-fitting black muscle tee, the rest of him clad in his character's leather pants and boots, putting on egregious display what exactly Marvel had to edit out during post production of the first Thor movie. "What's up?" you squeaked out.

"Truly, nothing. I just wanted to tell you I look forward to filming with you tomorrow." He placed a hand on your shoulder, bared by the rather revealing nature of your Enchantress costume, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "I'll see you tomorrow, darling. I'll see if I can get someone to assist you with your costume."

Your heart caught in your throat as you watched his eyes give you a once over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, before leaving the tent.

Here lies Y/N Y/L/N. Cause of death? Sanity and ability to breathe were stolen by Thomas William Hiddleston.

Knock Knock Knock

You looked up from your position on the couch, your neck and back straining from being hunched over and taking notes as you watched compilation after compilation of the "best tv and movie kisses" on YouTube. Every bit of preparation you could do for tomorrow's scene short of trolling through Tinder or Raya, you would willingly do.

After all, if you looked stupid in your hotel room practicing how to kiss on your hand but no one else was around to see it, did you actually look stupid?

Yes. The answer was yes.

"I didn't order room service!" you called out in the direction of the door and sending the mistaken server on his way, turning back to face the TV and somehow transpose in your mind that the actors in the scene were you and Tom, trying to plan out how to move your body the way theirs moved, to not lean in too much so that your teeth didn't knock together, and to not even think about any lip biting considering your own dreadful history--

Knock Knock Knock

You groaned at the insistent mistaken case of room service and turned off the TV, flipping your notes over so that in case they were of the nosy variety nothing could leak. The last thing you needed throughout production was Holland and Ruffalo greeting you tomorrow morning with open arms and goofy grins saying "One of us! One of us!"

"I'm sure you're mistaken, buddy, I didn't order any--"

You opened the door and realized it wasn't room service on the other side. It was Tom, looking at you with a soft amusement in his eyes, the mortification spreading through your system at the knowledge that he was seeing you clad in a loose cotton ruffle sleepwear dress that went down the length of your arms and fell to your knees.

The farthest cry from the allure of Amora. And yet the best possible representation of yourself in real life.

"O-Oh uhh…hi," you stammered, constantly shifting your posture in your attempt to seem casual. "What's up?"

You felt even more chagrined when those eyes that haunted your every dream since you were a teenager that was every bit the awkward dork that you were at this moment once again gave you a once over. Only this time the smirk graduated to him biting his lip. What is his deal? Is he really just trying to make me spontaneously combust? Burn off the final shred of sanity that I'm holding on to? Did he choose me as his use case for a scientific study to prove that death by swooning was most definitively a thing?

"Y/N I heard you earlier today with Scarlett and Elizabeth." Someone call the cemetery and have them erect my tombstone. "I didn't intend to, but I'd been walking by the area and--"

"Ohh fuck," you groaned, pressing your hands to your eyes and spinning in your spot trying calm your racing mind. "Look I'm really sorry maybe we could talk to Anthony and Joe and we could have them write the scene out comp--"

Your words caught in your throat in a hitched squeak as you felt his hands wrap around yours, pulling them away from your face. "Look at me, please." You opened your eyes and became stunned silent when you saw a tenderness in his as he framed your face in his hands. "I'm not here to ask you to talk to anyone about getting the scene written out."

"Then why--"

He silenced you by pressing his lips to yours, all the words beginning to melt away. What little knowledge you'd gotten seemed trivial now, as he coaxed you to kiss him back, as the world around you seemed to fade and a strange quiet washed over you. As you felt your entire body come alive with every tender brush of his lips against yours.

So this was what they meant.

He pulled away from you, one arm wrapped securely around your waist to keep you close, and the other hand gently cradling the back of your head. "I came here because you are a woman who deserves to be kissed breathless. Often. By someone who knows how." He gave you a soft smile before slanting his mouth over yours, tongue gently brushing along the parting of your lips as if asking for entrance.

It was as if your whole body weakened once you parted your lips and felt his tongue gently flicking against yours. His arm tightened around you as he lifted you up seemingly effortlessly and pinned you to the wall, his lips never once leaving yours.

When Tom broke the kiss you were both gasping for breath, the air once again leaving your body the moment his lips latched on to your neck, his hands roaming down your body until they hooked around the backs of your knees to wrap your legs around him. You had to clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the resounding moan that escaped you the second his hips rolled into yours.

"No, darling," he groaned against your skin, one hand reaching up to wrap around yours and pry it away from your mouth. "I want to hear you." He moved away from your neck and brought his face inches from yours. "I also heard one more thing. A downright sacrilegious thing. About how you've had to fake your pleasure with everyone you've laid with."

He placed your hand on his shoulder, which you quickly hooked around his neck to hold yourself up as he lifted you away from the wall and walked further into the hotel room, making your mind spin with what he intended to do next. "So you heard that, too, huh?" was all you could say as you did your best to remember how to breathe.

"I did. And I wish to change that, too. If you'll let me."

You could only nod before his lips were back on yours again as he laid you down onto the bed.

A/N: I had to fade to black some of these stories if I wanted to meet deadlines, okay? 🤣

'everything' taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @devilsadvocactus @lokiprompts @sititran @ladyjames78 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @creationsbyme @coldnique @athalialaufeyson @simplyholl @tallseaweed @sarahscribbles @unlucky-number-13 @ozymdias @maple-seed @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfsmom1 @km-ffluv @psychospore @loopsisloops @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovelysizzlingbluebird

[fish-writing-dump]

Pink Menace Aloha x Reader oneshot Word Count: 2.2k Author note: Extremely sorry this took forever, this is my first time doing a request so I was extremely clueless the whole time.

A 3 game winning streak was a great way to start the weekend. Your team was on their way to completing their 4th game at Arowana Mall. While your teammates stayed in the front, spraying ink across any paintable surface along the shops, you stayed in the back above a clothing display with a charged-up splatling, keeping an eye out for any of your allies who were possibly in danger. With this strategy, you landed yourself another successful win to add to your streak. Judd whistled, signifying the end of the match. Hearing this, both your team and the opposing one walked away from the shopping mall, now covered in bright puddles of ink in contrasting colours. “Good game. Are you guys up for another round?” The opposing team's captain shook their head, remaining slumped on a metal bench in the locker room.

“I think me and the others need a break.” His teammates nodded half-heartedly in agreement as they walked behind at a sluggish pace.

“Alright, see ya around then.” Your team returned to the lobby, waving back to your previous opponents as they departed the building. Feeling energetic, your team decided to stay; unfortunately, you had gone to the plaza during the early morning, meaning less people were in the lobby compared to midday. Unfortunately, this also meant those who had happened to be there weren’t interested in a turf war match or were not fully equipped yet to play.

At least that’s what you thought until you heard wild laughter erupt from a group you hadn’t seen until now. A group of pink inklings stood in an isolated corner of the lobby. The group appeared to be quite close, throwing friendly jokes and insults at each other. At the centre of the group stood an inkling leaning against the lobby wall, his arms crossed in a relaxed manner, like he owned the place.

From the bright pink hue of his tentacles to the confident look on his face, as well as his blue holiday themed shirt, you deduced that he was Aloha. You had never gotten the opportunity to see him face-to-face. From what you heard, he was a member of a group called the S4, a group made up of 4 S-rank teams that were said to be the strongest turf players in the area. Despite being the 2nd weakest in the team, his team was still quite strong; they were all famous for having impressive acrobatic abilities on the battlefield and a strong group chemistry. Your gaze drifted away from the group towards the ring of people around the team, staying their distance yet continuously glancing back to make comments, with a few making an occasional squeal (presumably fangirls).

“No way is that Team Pink from the S4?!” One of your teammates exclaimed in surprise.

“It looks like it, I didn’t know they came to the plaza this early in the morning.” Another remarked. You listened briefly to their comments as your head began to tune out the chatter between your teammates as you thought for a second. This may have been an S-rank team, but your team had been improving recently in their combat prowess; perhaps, seeing as no one else was motivated enough to play a game, you could take this as an opportunity to gain some experience.

One of your teammates noticed the look on your face; their eyebrows arched, but as realisation dawned on them, their eyes widened in surprise, and finally, their eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t think we’re ready for them yet." From that phrase, the others quickly caught on, making their own remarks.

“I second that thought.”

“Don’t be so negative; I think we might have a shot.”

“A shot at public humiliation?”

Just before the clamour could reach its crescendo, you cleared your throat, silencing everyone. “I understand everyone’s reluctance, but look at our progress these past few months.” There were a collection of nods in the group: “We’ve all ranked up from B to A; our ability to coordinate and communicate has increased significantly; plus, everyone’s been improving on their weaknesses.” Your teams gaze flitted back and forth between each other, pondering the points you made: “Besides, if we get our butts kicked by these guys, does it matter? We may not win, but we’ll get some experience outta this at least” you watched as your teammates stood slightly taller, the fear, and reluctance remaining but also hope and confidence.

With everyone in collective agreement, you approached Aloha and his team. With each step you took, inklings started to whisper as they noticed your advance. Some asked questions about your group; others wondered if you were planning on challenging the S4 member; but the most reoccurring comments were doubts in your team’s ability.

An inkling wearing a snorkel nudged Aloha gently, gesturing to your group. “Hey-” The rowdy group quieted down, their attention drawn to you and your team.

“You’re Aloha right, from the S4.”

“That’d be me; now who’s the pretty person asking?”

So the rumours of him being a flirt were definitely true. You introduce yourself and the rest of your team, getting straight to the point: “We want to play a turf war against your team.”

“Not sure I’m in the mood right now, it’s really early.” He slumped back dramatically as he did a fake yawn. "Besides, I haven’t heard of you guys before. Think you could hold your own?” 

You rolled your eyes, It was expected he would look down on you. “Big talk for a group of slackers.” His teammates just laughed at your remark, mumbling about how pointless a match would be, but Aloha stayed oddly silent with a look of amusement in his eyes. Behind the grin across his features, he was contemplating looking between your teammates, then back at you, until he finally piped up.

"Alright, I accept, but I choose the map.”

“Deal”

You made your way to Mahi Mahi Resort after a short bus trip and a lot of back-and-forth quips. Emerging from the resort lobby onto the white wooden flooring. The iconic, giant squid-shaped pool sat at the centre of the outdoor area, surrounded by faded yellow umbrellas and lounging chairs. Some quick set-up and your team spawned on one side of the map; a small blip could be heard on the other side, signalling your opponent’s entrance onto the field.

“3, 2, 1”

“GO!”

As the rest of your team dashed ahead, you stayed behind, inking the spawn. Being a back-liner was definitely a lot less eventful since you were away from the main action, but it never made you feel you were missing out or lacking in anyway. You weren’t the fastest on your team, but what you couldn’t do in agility, you made up for in offensive power. As the person with the longest range, it was your priority to keep an eye on your teammates and cover for their vacancies around the map so they could focus on taking care of Pink Team.

After the first minute, more than half the map had been covered in your team’s bright ink as they cautiously made their way closer to the opposing side. It had been suspiciously peaceful for a match against an S+ team. A creeping suspicion dawned on you as you advanced forward to the middle. Aloha and his teammate Diver walked around as if having a leisure stroll through a literal battlefield, not paying much care for the game around them. 

You grit your teeth, typical for the S-rank inkling to not care about a turf match. Seeing that he didn’t care, it wouldn’t hurt to play around. The barrel of your splatling spun slowly until it reached halfway to a full cycle, releasing a barrage right between the two inklings and successfully catching their attention. The duo dodged quickly acknowledging your presence now (or no longer ignoring, you weren’t quite sure). You raised a hand and waved a faux apology. "Sorry, was I interrupting you two? It looked like a real important conversation was happening.”

“My bad cutie, won’t keep you waiting anymore then." This little- 

You quickly reloaded, unleashing a second barrage along the S4 member’s path in an attempt to remove one problem from the scene. "Dang, nice form you got there,” he commented, dodging the shots annoyingly well.

“Didn’t realise you were a splatling user." You sarcastically commented. This again?

“I’m not, but it does compliment your body." A flush rose to your cheeks; admittedly, you should have seen that one coming. Admist the word exchange, you lost your footing. Two shots of pink ink hit your gut instantly, like a swift punch, as you burst into a puddle. Every time you respawned, you swear you could feel the recoil of the shots aching under your skin. After a short moment of grumbling, keeled over in the safety of your spawn, you made a dash for a nearby vantage point to see what was happening around the map.

During your absence, the pink team’s splattershot user had made a snipe position on one of the elevated platforms, keeping your teammates on their toes and splatting them more regularly than you preferred. She hadn’t seemed to notice you had respawned yet, luckily.

You took this as an opportunity to attempt a pushback. Quietly stepping away from your secluded spot and charging up a short barrage, just as you took aim, the sound of a certain pink squid taking a shot broke your concentration. His gun pointed towards you, hitting your arm, making the grip on your splatling loosen. For a brief moment, you glanced down at the inkling, and just as he aimed for a second shot, hastily you withdrew from the conflict towards the safety of your base. Quickly retreating into the ink using swim form you circled around to lower ground to catch your opponents off guard from the ground.

This back-and-forth banter went on for a while. You would try to splat him from a distance, he would say some sort of compliment about your looks or skills, and you would remark about his ability. This went on for quite a while until the 30 second mark hit, the current music changing into a variation of now and never not that you noticed much with your heart beat pounding in your ears.

The realisation came to you in that moment while you were trying to deal with the annoying leader of your opponents. Your team has been pushed back quite a bit.

One of your mid-range users was having difficulty against a light-footed roller main. With the careless inkling’s back turned to you, tightening the grip on your splatling, with a few barrel rotations, you built up a short barrage, incapacitating her enough for your teammate to deal the final blow. Your luck started to turn around from that point on as you dealt with your wild opponents one by one.

Two shots landed on you and the neighbouring ground, and you retaliated with a swift stream along the path of the party animal who ambushed you. 

The two of you danced around each other, attempting to splat each other before the match ended.

He jumped suddenly, going high above your head. With a full charge, you heard a few pops, signalling that you had hit him a few times. As he landed, you quickly charged your gun again, aiming for his head. As he landed, the inkling brought his gun up towards you, ready to pull the trigger when:

“GAME!!!”

Judd blew a whistle, signalling the end of the match. Cheers erupted from the crowd watching along the pool’s edge, mostly towards Aloha and his team, but some individuals congratulated your team. “Not bad, not bad at all.” Aloha stood up in a more relaxed position as he walked towards the rest of his team. You weren’t sure, but for a moment, it looked like he was surprised that you hit him.

You exited the stage with your team, satisfied to have put up a good fight, at least. Your team made their way out of the lobby to the plaza, and as your team went ahead to the plaza, you got stopped by Aloha.

“Good game; I’ll admit you exceeded my expectations.” He stretched out a palm, staring straight at you with a smirk. Returning the gesture, you stretched your palm out to meet his hand with a strong shake.

“Good game, but I’ll beat you next time, for sure!” You confidently declared. For a brief moment, you could see the corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement.

"Well, I’ll look forward to seeing you then.” As he walked away, you felt a piece of paper in your hand. Now resting on your palm was a pastel pink note with a phone number written in hot pink. You looked up to meet his gaze, and as your eyes landed on the pink inkling, you could see he was staring right back at you while making a phone gesture with his hand that likely meant "Call me."

For the second time that day, you found your cheeks flushed.

Bonus:

You put the phone number into your contacts app, and after typing in the number, setting the name as Aloha felt a bit boring, so you opted for “Pink menace”.

[pumpk1n-writes]

“Tell me about the dark places you hide” These are so good I’m just requesting part ten (I hop im not bothering you)

Oh you’re not bothering me at all!! I’d actually forgotten to post it and thought I had so thank you!!!!

Tell Me All About The Dark Places You Hide ~ Part Ten (final part)

➥ in which the reader figures out that their best friends are the infamous Woodsboro Killers and decides to help them rather than turn them in. {ft. Betrayal, murder, murder, blood, murder, more murder, more blood, did i mention murder?}

Part Nine || Word Count ~ 1.1k

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“Oh, Billy, Billy, Billy. You really thought I cared about you? You really thought I give a damn what happens to you?” You cooed, the gun in your hand steady and firm despite how crazed your voice was. “I’m not who you think I am. I was never who you wanted me to be.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Sidney asked, although it came out as more of a sob. You stroked her cheek with the knife.

“I’ll deal with you later, darling.” You turned back towards the boys. “But she does ask a good question. My name was never Leers.”

Billy had a sinking feeling in his gut. “Who are you then?”

“Valerie.” You bowed deeply, sweeping your arms out to the sides. “Valerie Weary.”

Sidney sobbed again, and Billy’s heart dropped. “You fucking framed my father,” the gun moved to Stu’s forehead. “And you were all too happy to help. You sentenced him to life, then death.”

“Valerie, please,” Sidney wouldn’t stop crying. “I didn’t mean to—“

“And Sidney, darling, you fucking fell for it! You dumb bitch, you fell for the oldest trick in the book.”

“You knew all along didn’t you?” Billy asked. “You never had to figure it out.”

“Don’t interrupt me, baby boy,” you sneered, laughing when he blushed at your words. “But yes, there was no figuring out to be done, I knew since the moment Sidney’s mom was babysitting me and you forgot to check the closet.” You laughed, a high-pitched, maniacal, laugh. “You forgot to check the fucking closet. I saw everything.

“And Billy, baby, it was all too easy to gain your trust. All I had to do was kill my best friend and make you cum. That’s it!”

Billy flushed an even deeper red at that and backed away slightly.

“What? Billy?” Sidney’s sobs were getting on your nerves. Without looking, you shot her in the neck, laughing even harder when her blood stained the walls. She fell, the gargle of blood filling her lungs music to your ears

“Now for you boys,” you raised the gun towards them, stopping Billy’s retreat. “Billy, you never cared about Stu. You used him for your own wishes, never giving a damn about what he thought or how he felt.”

“Billy is that true?” You almost felt sorry for the desperation in his voice. Almost.

“I- No- What?” Billy was looking between the two of you with frantic eyes, the look of a wild animal.

“Don’t lie!” You sung, gesturing towards him with the knife.

“I would never! Why would I hurt Stu?”

“Because he was too much, he was never careful enough, he was always too eager, he was never good enough for you,” you suggested, filling in the blanks for him. The wounded expression on Stu’s face struck you through the heart. You might have been laying it on a little thick.

Billy was silent, confirming everything. Stu blinked rapidly, trying to dissolve tears. “I gave you everything, I gave up my life, I listened when you said killing Sid’s mom would help fix my anger. And this is what I get in return?” The playfulness was gone, and only betrayal, in its purest and rawest form, was left.

“Would you do the honors, baby?” You crooned, tossing the gun to Stu.

He glared coldly at who used to be his best friend. “Of course, dear.”

You tackled Billy to the ground, holding his arms in place and laying cheek to cheek. “Oh Billy, you really thought you’d win. You really thought you’d get away with this, kill me, and live happily ever after, didn’t you?”

The knife in your hand stroked his cheekbone, similar to what you’d done to Sidney mere minutes ago. “Once I told Stu the truth about you, he was only too willing to switch sides. Why do you think he wasn’t shocked at all when I killed Sidney? When I switched things up a bit?”

Stu grinned, his previous anger long since dissipated. “I just needed you to confirm everything. And by god you did.”

“It’s okay, Billy baby. We won’t hurt you too bad.”

“Lie!” Stu laughed maniacally, waving the gun in front of his face.

You smiled up at him. “Do whatever you need to, honey.”

Stu nodded and smiled back at you, firing the gun. The bullet lodged itself into Billy’s thigh, and he screamed out — “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Same thing that’s wrong with you, darling!” You giggled. “Watched a few movies, took a few notes, improved on them a bit.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“Aren’t we all?”

You heard police sirens and stood up, taking the gun from Stu and shooting Billy in the chest. “Here,” you said tightly, handing the knife to Stu.

He seemed to get the message and stabbed you in the side, waiting for the pain to leave your face before giving it back to you for his turn.

You collapsed into him and had him lead you, both of you limping, to the front, waiting for the police to get there.

“Please!” You cried, sobs racking your stricken body. “Anybody!”

An officer ran up to you, taking in the blood covering both of your shirts. He gestured for paramedics to put you both on gurneys, and followed you into the ambulance. Two of his buddies were checking on Dewey and Gale.

“It was Billy!” You gasped as soon as the doors slammed shut. “It was Billy, it was always Billy,” you echoed Sidney’s words, punctuating each of your words with sobs. They should give you an Oscar for this.

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down. What happened?”

He grabbed a pen and pad of paper and you took it as your cue to begin your story. “I got drunk and passed out at the party,” you kept going despite the officer’s quirked eyebrow. “When I woke up there was. . . There was blood everywhere,” you paused, feigning a shaky breath. “And Gale and Dewey were— oh my god are they all right?”

“They’re going to be okay miss.”

Goddamnit. “Oh that’s great,” you took a deep breath. “Billy was in the kitchen with Sidney. He shot her before I could get to him and then he stabbed Stu,” you paused, letting your eyes fill with tears again. “I tried to stop him and he stabbed me too. I somehow managed to get his gun and shoot him, is he. . . Alive?”

“We won’t know for sure yet, ma’am. What’s your name?”

“Valerie Leers.”

[revel-inbluehues]

Back to the analysing and fangirling.

So, Delico's Nursery. Spoilers for those who haven't watched it yet.

I absolutely love the animation. I know a lot of people are probably not going to like the style that J C Staff have gone for, but I do.

I am going to talk about this, but I am NOT an expert, so be warned.

The background is extremely detailed and very still most of the time. There is little to no background movement, making the entire background look like a classical painting rather than an animated scene. The character themselves seem to be drawn with varying line thinks and singular shades of colour, with little to no shading as well, but they are simpler compared to the backgrounds, making them appear clearer. Since they are the main moving components, it does make you focus on them. Personally, I really do love this style but I get the feeling that not everyone will.

Story wise, I know very little. I know that there is a stage play and a manga, but I haven't seen either, so I only know what the anime has mentioned. To me, it seems like there a two primary plot lines; the TRUMP case and the father-children relationships. At first glance, it seems like there is a very dark plot and very light-hearted plot to contrast each other, but it's very clear that the children have unique and complicated relationships with their parents.

The best relationship seems to be Henrique and his girls, where he lets them run wild but does show care more openly and is relaxed with them. On the other hand, Gerhard seems to have an extremely stern and business-like relationship with his son, who appears to be more soft-hearted of the children. Dino is somewhere between the middle; he lets his son do what he wants because the only thing he's seen his son do is study, but it's very clear that his son is upset with their current dynamics and feels like his father doesn't care about him. They all have to learn to try and build functional relationships, which probably going to be more emotionally draining and painful in a more domestic sense.

Henrique probably needs to learn how to discipline and teach his kids, Gerhard needs to learn to see his son as a child, and Dino needs to acknowledge his son's feelings.

Dali is a bit different in the sense that he was already trying his best, but he is also trying to be a single dad to a young child and a baby, so it's more natural to feel overwhelmed and miss certain points. I get the feeling Dali will catch onto Raphael's feelings of neglect very quickly.

As for the TRUMP plot line, we're still fairly early on that so I don't have nearly enough information to make a judgement, but it looks like it has potential.

I think the only complaint I have is that the first episode may have been a bit too exposition heavy, but it is the first episode so I guess it should be expected.

[catierambles]

Feral Instincts Ch.4

Pairing: The Rogue's Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 1167

Warnings: Some language?

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Syverson let her rest in his room when they got back as she had a ripping headache and they all gathered in the living room as Geralt told them what had happened.

“This one is …different.” He said, “More calculating than rabid. He’s smart and focused.”

“Would make sense how he was able to hide it, then.” Syverson said, “He put up one hell of a Bundy mask.”

“And he was able to Call to her?” August asked and Geralt nodded.

“She fought it, but she wasn’t able to fight it completely and would have gone to him if I hadn’t been there.” Geralt said. “Also…” He stopped with a growl.

“What?” Walter asked.

“I didn’t just want to protect her as an Alpha, I felt compelled to.” Geralt said. “I wanted to tear the feral apart, but my main priority was her and her safety.”

“She might be an Omega wolf.” August said and they looked at him, “Would make sense. They’re caregivers, nurturers, and Alphas are driven by a biological need to keep and protect them.”

“Well, I think it’d be cool if she was.” Mike said, “I’m drowning in testosterone here.”

“She’s not staying.” August said, yet again.

“Walker, if she’s an Omega, she’d kinda hafta.” Syverson said, “Once her wolf comes out, we wouldn’t be able to let her leave.”

“And she wouldn’t want to.” Walter said, “We can’t abandon an Omega to the wilds.”

“All in favor of her staying and August fucking off with his wrong think, say “Aye”.” Mike said and there was a chorus of “Aye”s from everyone except August. “Majority rules.”

“This isn’t a democracy.” August said.

“Well it ain’t a damn dictatorship, either.” Syverson said, “And you’re forgetting whose house you’re in. My house, my rules. You don’t like it? Suck it up, Princess, or leave.”

“I can go.” They looked over to see her standing on the landing of the stairs. “It’s been less than a day and me being here is already fucking shit up. I should go.”

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, doll.” Syverson said, “Not while that feral is out and walkin’ around wantin’ to get you back. Don’t know why he’s fixated, but it can’t be anything good.”

“I’m not your problem.” She said, “Or your responsibility.”

“Wrong on both counts.” Syverson said, “We’re making this our problem, and you were infected in our territory on our watch. Makes you our responsibility. Doesn’t matter that none of us was the one that did it.”

“But if you become a liability,” August said, “You’re gone. Understood?”

“August, I just volunteered to leave.” Stephanie said, giving him annoyed look, “But fuckin’ go off, I guess.” His brows jumped at her in surprise and Mike snorted in amusement, Geralt pulling a small smile as he looked down.

“Who’re you staying with tonight?” Geralt asked and she looked at him in question.

“Pardon?” She asked.

“With that feral out there being able to Call you, one of us needs to be around to pull you back if he tries.” Walter said, “So who are you staying with tonight?”

“Whoa, now.”  Stephanie said, “Don’t get me wrong, you all are mostly nice and you’ve been very accommodating, but this is not a Japanese dating sim. I will be sleeping on the couch, thank you, if you don’t have room for me.”

“Japanese dating sim?” Mike asked with amusement.

“I've been known to indulge in the occasional otome.” She said with a shrug, a small blush tinting her cheeks.

“For the plot, I’m sure.” Syverson said.

“No, for the male waifus.” She said and Mike snorted again.

"Doll, we need to keep an eye on you in case he tries to Call you while we're asleep." Syverson said, "Can't do that if we're not there."

"Fine." She groused, "I'll stay with Mike."

"Nice!" Mike said with a smile.

"It has to be an Alpha." Geralt said simply.

"Fuck!" His smile fell.

"Sy, then." She said, shooting Geralt a look.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll be a perfect gentleman." Syverson said, pressing a hand to his chest. "Now, you gotta be hungry."

"I mean, I could eat, but hungry? Not really?" She said and he scowled slightly.

"You should be damn near ravenous with everything that happened today and the infection in your system. Speeds up your metabolism." Syverson said but she just shrugged. "Geralt, can you double-check it?"

"Yes." He said and went to her, taking her arm in his hand gently and looking at the wounds. Bending, he smelled along the claw marks, inhaling deep through his nose.

"He's our resident bloodhound." Syverson said when she looked at him in question.

"It's there." Geralt said as he straightened. "It's strong."

"How long do we have?" August asked.

"A couple days, maybe more, maybe less." Geralt said.

"Until what?" Stephanie asked.

"Your first shift." Geralt said and she looked at him in surprise. "Won't sugarcoat it. It's going to hurt, but we'll be here."

"It won't just be sprung on you, darlin'." Syverson said, "You'll feel it comin' before it happens."

"Once your body knows what to do," Walter said, "Subsequent shifts will be less traumatic and will happen easier." She dropped her forehead to Geralt's chest with a defeated sound and his hand went to her hair, moving over the strands. His nose moved over her hair, breathing in deep, and a small growl shook his chest making her look up at him.

"Geralt?" She asked and there was a pause as their eyes met, a shiver going through the room.

"She's pulling at his wolf." August said, "Stephanie…"

"I don't…" Her voice almost had a dreamy quality to it. When his hands came up to hold her face, his nails had turned to yellowed claws, long and sharp.

"Geralt!" August snapped, but Geralt paid him no mind. Going over to them, he ripped Geralt away from her with a hand gripping his shoulder before turning to her. "You will not be forcing us to shift! You hear me?"

"I didn't--I don't know--" She stammered before pushing him away, "You need to stop thinking this is my goddamn fault! I was attacked, you asshole! You think I'm doing this shit on purpose?! Get your head out of your ass for five seconds and recognize that I'm a damn victim!"

"Stephanie--" August growled but she shoved a middle finger in his face.

"Fuck you!" Turning, she stomped back up the stairs and they heard a door slam a moment later.

"She's right." Walter said, "You've been acting like this is her fault, August. It's not, and you need to keep that in mind when her wolf starts to come out. She's going to do things subconsciously, but the fact that she can pull at our wolves when the infection is in its infancy is…worrying."

"But she ain't doin' it on purpose. So knock it the fuck off." Syverson said and pushed past him on his way up the stairs.

[ktwritesstuff]

The Babysitter (a Last of Us fanfic) pt. 6

Title: The Babysitter Fandom: The Last of Us Rating: Mature Characters & Pairings: Joel Miller x Reader Word Count: ~2,700 Summary: Calm before the storm. Beta-read by the immaculate globe-trotter, @bs-fangirl.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (below cut) | Part 7 | Part 8

Somewhere Outside Richmond, Virginia. Summer 2010

After Atlanta, the three of you were careful, stayed away from populated areas; you rarely encountered the infected.  The world outside was more beautiful than FEDRA’s propaganda led you to believe–green and quiet–it was a shame you weren’t feeling well.

At first you tried to brush it off as allergies; it has been so long since you had been in actual nature, but allergies didn’t usually come with nausea and body aches.  Of course, sleeping on the ground didn’t help.  Eventually you admitted that it had to be flu or some other virus; you didn’t know how you picked it up when you hadn’t seen any other people in weeks.  

The nights were getting colder and you were running low on supplies.  You were hungry and exhausted–the lymph nodes under your arms so swollen and tender you couldn’t even carry a backpack without crying–so Joel and Tommy took turns exploring the mountainous terrain while you rested as best you could.   

Joel had been gone for little more than an hour and you didn’t expect him back until closer to nightfall, so when you heard footsteps approaching through the trees Tommy raised his gun.

“It’s just me,” Joel called.  “Calm down.”

“What are you doing back?” you asked, sitting up from where your head was resting on Tommy’s pack.  “Did you find food?”

“Better,” Joel said, reaching to help you up. 

“What’s better than food?” 

“I’ll show you,” he said.  “Come on.  Trust me.”

You and Tommy followed Joel about a mile into the woods until you came to a steep ledge along a riverbank.  Joel lowered himself down and reached up to help you.  

“I don’t like this, Joel,” you protested.  Your arms and legs felt weak and the rocks were wet and slippery; you gripped Tommy’s hand harder as he helped to lower you down.  

“I know, Sweetpea,” Joel put a hand on your back to support you as you made your way down the ledge.  “I got you.  We’re almost there.”

After wading through the river and trudging through the woods in wet socks and shoes for another twenty minutes you reached what might have once been a gravel path or road, now overgrown with grass and greenbriars.  

At the bottom of the hill there was a perfect little cottage bathed in dappled light.  The tin roof was covered in moss and speckled with dandelions.  A black walnut tree was growing through the remnants of the porch.  There was a clear pond and a garden that had gone wild with bolting greens, summer squash that had gone to seed, and runner beans trailing up the pawpaw saplings sprouting up through the yard.

“Joel,” you gasped.    

“There’s more,” Joel said, grinning like a maniac.  

The porch groaned under his weight as he climbed the steps to the house, you and Tommy following carefully behind him.

In the front room there was a wood-burning stove, a wooden rocking chair still in good condition, a sofa that was mostly dry-rotten, and a whole shelf full of books, even an antique sewing machine with a foot-pedal and a basket full of scraps where squirrels had made their nest.  They scurried through the window as you came into the house.     

The area behind the cabin was overgrown with wildflowers and brush.  Tommy actually whooped at excitement at the sight of a fat doe bending down to nibble on the tall grass, which caused her to turn tail and run.  On the other side of the room there was a set of narrow stairs up to a loft and a little kitchen where Joel was already throwing open the cupboards which were stocked with rice and beans and mason jars full of soups and tomatoes and pickles.

“I know it looks like a lot, but we still have to be careful,” Joel said.  “With a little planning, it should get us through winter.”

You covered your mouth and sank on to the floor; every muscle in your body finally giving out in relief.  Joel grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you back up; you held onto his shoulders for support.

“This is ours,” you laughed.  “Our house.”

Joel nodded, his pride evident in spite of his usual seriousness.  

“If the well is good, Tommy and I can get the pump working–we might even have running water.  There’s a bedroom back here,” he said, guiding you into the back room.  There was a double bed with a cast iron frame, a wardrobe, and a cedar chest of linens and wool afghans that Joel tossed onto the bed.  

“There’s plenty of wood, I can get a fire going in no time,” Joel explained.  

You nodded, sinking onto the bed, tears streaming down your face.

“Stop that,” Joel warned, but his voice was soft.  “Everything is going to be okay now.  We’re gonna make some food–you can finally get some rest and get healthy.”

You slept like a rock until Joel roused you with a mug of hot soup–a bean and vegetable number with tomatoey broth.  You wished you had some crackers to settle your stomach, but even without it was the best meal you had eaten in months.  

After, you slept again until after nightfall when Joel came to bed, undressing in the dark.  

“Tommy’s going to take the loft,” he explained.  “I’ll stay down here with you.”

“I’m afraid of getting you sick,” you protested as he climbed into bed beside you.

“If you haven’t gotten me sick already, you ain’t gonna,” Joel said.

You spent a few days subsisting on applesauce and oatmeal and sleeping as much as possible.  Joel mostly kept watch over you, hauling firewood, and fixing things up around the cabin–reinforcing sagging floorboards, patching holes in the roof.  There was a shed on the property with tools and supplies, but without electricity things took time.  Tommy helped out whenever Joel needed an extra set of hands, but mostly he passed time exploring the surrounding forest and stalking deer–so far unsuccessfully.  The house had come with a rifle and a small supply of ammo, but he knew to be judicious with it.  

You spent your few waking hours cataloging the contents of the wardrobe–women’s clothes, much of it handmade, most of it too small for your frame, but there were a few dresses you could use–and the cabin’s modest library–cookbooks, field guides on local plants and wildlife, and herbal remedies.  Little by little, a picture began to form of the cabin’s previous occupants.

You dreamed of her often.  Sometimes a lone pioneer, sometimes a fairytale witch.  You woke feeling feverish and ashamed.  You felt haunted.  Joel fretted over you when you screamed yourself awake, unable to explain why.  He never slept much either, so you weren’t surprised when you woke one night to an empty bed.  

The wind was cold.  You could hear black walnuts thunking against the tin roof as it blew.  You wrapped a knitted blanket around you and padded out to the kitchen in bare feet.  

Joel and Tommy were speaking in hushed tones out at the table.  They had a fire going, sharing nips of alcohol from an ancient-looking bottle of whiskey.  You wouldn’t have thought much of it, except they went silent real quick when they realized you were out of bed.  You couldn’t avoid the question that had been burning at the back of your mind any longer.  Who would have left this place when it had everything you needed?

“Joel, was there somebody here when you found this place?”

Joel cleared his throat, not meeting your eyes in the firelight.  

“There was an old woman,” he said.  “She was dead when I got here.”

“You swear,” you said.  “Do you swear she was already dead?”  You almost asked him to swear on Sarah, but you decided against it, knowing you would have to live with the answer.

“Jesus, Sweetpea, I swear,” Joel said.  “She died natural, as far as I could tell, in her bed–which makes her a hell of a lot more fortunate than the likes of us.”

“In the bed where we’ve been sleeping,” you wailed, pointing back to the bedroom.

Tommy chuckled.  

“You see why I didn’t want to tell you,” Joel said.

You closed your eyes and took a breath, choking down a sob.  People died all the time–you had lost your entire family in one night and barely shed a tear–so why were you suddenly overcome by the loss of this person you had never even known?  

“What did you do with her?” you asked.

“I wrapped her up in the comforter and walked her down the hill; I flipped the mattress over and I came and got you and Tommy,” he explained.

“Joel!” you shrieked.  

“What was I supposed to do?”

“We have to bury her,” you said.  “She left all of this for us; it’s the least we can do.”

You hardly considered yourself a Christian anymore, but still.  It didn’t sit right with you to leave your predecessor out in the open to be scavenged by wild animals.

“Fine,” Joel growled.  “We’ll take care of it, first thing tomorrow.  Go back to bed–you need to rest.”

True to his word, in the morning, Joel dug a modest grave.  You thought about looking at the remains before they were interred, but couldn’t bring yourself to unfold the threadbare fabric of the old quilt.  You covered the mound with river rocks.  Tommy whittled two dowels down and bound them with twine to make a cross.    

“You don’t know that she was Christian,” Joel protested.  You glared.  

“Would you like to say a few words?”

“I think I just want to say ‘thank you,’” you said, standing over the grave with a bouquet of Black-eyed Susans from the field behind the house.  “I know you don’t know us, but because you planted a garden we get to eat and have a safe place to sleep. And I just want you to know, we’ll take care of your home.”

After the funeral, it felt like a spell had been broken.  You were sleeping through the night and your appetite returned.  By the end of the week, you were feeling much stronger, so when Tommy finally brought home a deer, he and Joel showed you how to field dress and butcher it. 

Joel put the knife in your hand, standing behind you, guiding you through the motions.  

“Keep the point away from you and go slow,” he warned.  “Be gentle, you just want to go through the skin.  Puncture the stomach or intestines and all you’re gonna have is a fucking mess.”

You made it through the first layer of skin and the membrane beneath without too much difficulty.  Without the heart beating, there was less blood than you expected.

“This is a fat fucking deer,” Joel laughed, helping you scoop out the guts.  “Hell yeah,” Tommy agreed.

“She’s beautiful.”

You ran your fingers through the coarse fur, around the rose-like bloom where Tommy’s bullet had entered the deer’s shoulder and struck her heart.  Tommy knew what he was doing: a clean kill, quick, and as close to painless as it got.  You wondered where they had learned this; imagined that maybe they had gone on hunting trips with their father when they were young.

“You alright?” Joel asked.  “You look pale.”

You nodded, shaking off the wave of sickness.  

“I’m okay,” you said.  “What next?” 

“Reach inside,” Joel said, guiding your hands into the stomach cavity.  “Feel that muscle there, you’re going to cut through to get to the heart and esophagus.  Once you cut through that we can pull everything out to let it drain.”

“You’re a natural,” Tommy said, patting your back encouragingly.

“Takes a soft touch,” Joel agreed.  

Tommy took the deer to drain the rest of the blood.

With no refrigeration, the three of you realized you didn’t have a reliable way to preserve the meat; it was going to be much more than you could eat before it went bad.  Joel thought if he took the pelt and the extra meat to the Richmond QZ, he could trade for medicine or other supplies.  You didn’t like the idea of him out there alone, but neither he nor Tommy were willing to leave you alone.  

By day three with no sign of Joel, you started to panic.  Tommy put on a brave face, but you could tell he was just as worried as you were.  When reading could no longer keep your anxiety at bay you walked, exploring the forest.  You collected black walnuts and happened upon a strawberry patch up the hill from the cabin (though it was too late in the season now for strawberries), you even found chicken of the woods.  Tommy refused to touch it, convinced you were going to poison him.  

It was close to sunset on the fourth day when you finally caught sight of a figure with Joel’s approximate proportions and coloring, limping along from the rocks overlooking the old gravel road.    

“Joel!” you called out, scrambling down the hill.  “Joel.”  

“You had us scared half to death,” you said, throwing your arms around him.

“M’alright,” he said, relaxing into you.  “Twisted my damn ankle.  I’m sorry I scared you; I’ve just been moving slow.”     

Joel let you take his pack, and you ducked under his arm to support him on the path back up to the cabin.  Once you were within earshot you called out for Tommy and he helped you get Joel back up to the house and settled onto the bed with pillows under his bad ankle.  

“You got any Advil in here?” Tommy asked, rooting through Joel’s pack as you struggled to get his boot off his swollen foot.  There was a hint of bruising, but Joel could wiggle his toes.  It didn’t rule out a fracture, but if there were, hopefully it was small enough to heal on its own.  

“I wish,” Joel grimaced.  “Managed to find a new pressure switch for the jet pump, though.”

While Joel and Tommy went over their plans to get the well back in order, you sorted through your jars of dried herbs and spices, mashing up comfrey and wild garlic to warm on the stove with a few drops of oil from the pantry.  

“What the hell is that?” Joel said as you went to wrap his ankle with the paste.

“An herbal poultice,” you said.  “I learned how to make it from one of the books–been using it on cuts and scrapes.  Arnica’s better for a twisted ankle, but it doesn’t grow wild in this part of the country.” 

“I’d rather have some good old fashioned ice,” Joel complained, gritting his teeth as you tightened the bandages.

“Well we don’t have ice, now do we,” you snapped, tying off the bandages a little tighter than you needed to.  “So you’re just going to have to keep off it.  Now, are you hungry?  We’ve got fish.”

“Yes.”  Joel frowned; you knew he hated being laid up, but at this point there was nothing else you could do until his ankle had a chance to heal.  Thank heavens, it wasn’t worse. 

“I’ll put a plate on the stove for you,” you said.  “You have to rest.  The well can wait a few days more.”  

It was dark by the time Joel had eaten and dinner had been cleaned up; you changed into a flannel nightgown by candlelight.  You hadn’t even realized how scared you had been until you felt the relief washing over you as you climbed into bed beside him.

“I missed you,” you said, tucking yourself close to his side.  “It gets cold at night.”

Joel put his arm around you and kissed the top of your head.  You realized he must have been scared, too.  Or at least he was glad to be home, as much as he liked to complain.

“I even asked Tommy if he would come down to keep me warm,” you teased.  

“You did?” Joel chuckled.  “How did that go?”

You laughed.  “He gave me his blanket and told me to go sleep by the stove.”

Baby's First Taglist: @stilllivindue2spite, @amethystwonders11, @teacupcollectorr, @jbaby2, @flyingmushroomsss, @boysddontcry, @cated18, @sunnycamm

[rp-partnerfinder]

🕊 hey, 21F adv.lit–novella discord writer here who is looking to reignite her love for collaborative writing by engaging in a dark romance rp full of intense drama, sizzling emotions, and electrifying chemistry. i'm a little out of practice, but i can write multiple discord messages worth of content, hitting up to 2–6+ messages as an experienced novella writer. though, i'm also university student with a job, so i do reply at a relaxed pace (once or twice per week-ish), but i'm decently quick with OOC and employ a very lax reply policy for my partners (meaning you can do you with no worries). i will happily engage in lots of headcanoning, sharing aesthetics, tiktoks, ideas, and planning for rps, and i love to get that same enthusiasm in return !! don't be dry, contribute, and we'll get on well !! i can send pages of headcanons, and i will screech over our ocs, so let's fangirl together !!

an added note is that complex, imperfect, twisted, and flawed ocs are my bread and butter, and darker/villainous characters will always have my heart. so this is a love letter to all of y'all with a preference for writing well-developed, fucked-up ocs, your darlings have a safe haven with me. seriously, all my girlies are very far from cliche, and they're often decently messed-up, so i love it when i feel love&worry for your ocs cuz that's how you'll feel about my crazy darlings. i'm fine with dead-dove & darker themes (my only hard no is big age-gaps, ED's and incest, all other dark themes are welcome), other specifics like limits/kinks/rules can be discussed in dms.

idea-wise, i recently created twin sister ocs with a very interesting backstory, tons of darkness, and a codependent enmity. i'd love to write them within something akin to a mumu-esque rp– as in, writing two storylines within a shared timeframe/plot, two romances that are entwined, four characters that will overlap into each others lives and become tightly knit as either a 'found family' or 'clashing enemies'. so, it's like this: characters a/b and c/d may be our romantic pairings, but a/c are sister's with a complex set of issues to work through while b/d could be brother's, friends, rivals, etc (i'll leave that up to you, but i'd love if your two ocs also have a history) and we can have moments where their plotlines overlap where a/d might have a friendship moment, b/c may have a enmity storyline, while still writing a/b and c/d as main pairings.

note: a little cliche, but as of now, i am someone who prefers playing F roles within the MxF pairing, and also prefers to write with other F/nb writers (mdni).

themes i'm interested in: old money with criminal entanglements, different flavours of fucked-up characters, morally-questionable actions, rich kids gone wild, dark academia in university/high society, possessive/obsessiveness, blackmail, stalking, power imbalances, old money vs new money, music/art scene (kpop vibes, rock scene, industry harshness, scandals) contrasted with corporate/business. my ocs will be east asian so kdrama/cdrama vibes are also welcome. dark romance is a must.

react if interested, and i'll get back to you asap.

.

[ourtubahero-blog]

Michael reading Neil’s drafts for season 3.

[roleplayfinder]

🕊 hey, 21F adv.lit–novella discord writer here who is looking to reignite her love for collaborative writing by engaging in a dark romance rp full of intense drama, sizzling emotions, and electrifying chemistry. i'm a little out of practice, but i can write multiple discord messages worth of content, hitting up to 2–6+ messages as an experienced novella writer. though, i'm also university student with a job, so i do reply at a relaxed pace (once or twice per week-ish), but i'm decently quick with OOC and employ a very lax reply policy for my partners (meaning you can do you with no worries). i will happily engage in lots of headcanoning, sharing aesthetics, tiktoks, ideas, and planning for rps, and i love to get that same enthusiasm in return !! don't be dry, contribute, and we'll get on well !! i can send pages of headcanons, and i will screech over our ocs, so let's fangirl together !!

an added note is that complex, imperfect, twisted, and flawed ocs are my bread and butter, and darker/villainous characters will always have my heart. so this is a love letter to all of y'all with a preference for writing well-developed, fucked-up ocs, your darlings have a safe haven with me. seriously, all my girlies are very far from cliche, and they're often decently messed-up, so i love it when i feel love&worry for your ocs cuz that's how you'll feel about my crazy darlings. i'm fine with dead-dove & darker themes (my only hard no is big age-gaps, ED's and incest, all other dark themes are welcome), other specifics like limits/kinks/rules can be discussed in dms.

idea-wise, i recently created twin sister ocs with a very interesting backstory, tons of darkness, and a codependent enmity. i'd love to write them within something akin to a mumu-esque rp– as in, writing two storylines within a shared timeframe/plot, two romances that are entwined, four characters that will overlap into each others lives and become tightly knit as either a 'found family' or 'clashing enemies'. so, it's like this: characters a/b and c/d may be our romantic pairings, but a/c are sister's with a complex set of issues to work through while b/d could be brother's, friends, rivals, etc (i'll leave that up to you, but i'd love if your two ocs also have a history) and we can have moments where their plotlines overlap where a/d might have a friendship moment, b/c may have a enmity storyline, while still writing a/b and c/d as main pairings.

note: a little cliche, but as of now, i am someone who prefers playing F roles within the MxF pairing, and also prefers to write with other F/nb writers (mdni).

themes i'm interested in: old money with criminal entanglements, different flavours of fucked-up characters, morally-questionable actions, rich kids gone wild, dark academia in university/high society, possessive/obsessiveness, stalking, power imbalances, blackmail, old money vs new money, music/art scene (kpop vibes, rock scene, industry harshness, scandals) contrasted with corporate/business. my ocs will be east asian so kdrama/cdrama vibes are also welcome. dark romance is a must.

react if interested, and i'll get back to you asap.

.

[bleedingcoffee42]

(Yay! Just keep in mind that probably I won't stop yapping now, feel warned).

"The series does a great job of showing the gossip." absolutely, they managed to nail his character with one line what is very impressive.

On the other hand, forever sad they didn't explore his ancient history geek side. Him, blabbering about some ancient shit no one cares about, with rosy cheeks and excitement painted all over his face to Grant and Lipton? Hello...? Plus, didn't Buck talk about Romans and barbarians in Bastogne?

The whole (tv) Easy for the fandom is a company of sluts, so someone please play sad violin music for Matheson. Seriously, the power Ron had all over the people, lol. He knew what he was doing.

I mean, someone gave him a nickname "Sparky" and it stuck to him, so he had friends. Also, I know it was because of his "explosive" nature, but please, Sparky? Sparks are cute and make me think about something cozy (I can feel him throwing daggers at me from afterlife right now).

it looks somehow like a normal thing - some really liked him, some were neutral, some hated him. It was a bunch of more than 100 males after all, so characters collied. It seems even Winters didn't have 100% of fangirls there.

Anyway, sometimes, in the middle of the night I wonder when Winters started to call him Sparky and if it was why Talbert was butthurt.

The German uniform's case is hilarious because he just played along and could have not acted better (shoot him? without even rising his head? King). Again, sad we didn't get the scene in the show, especially because from bts it seems they dressed Martin as the German.

Poor Webster. It looks like he romanticized some stuff in his book and there was Ron "Ok, Webster rings a bell but... uhm...." Speirs.

Anyway, as for a dude who was called Sparky, he seemed to be rather chill.

Oooh and Buck was at his wedding. Maybe that's how he got an invite? I think there was a wedding for a Sgt in Easy the same day that Dick went to. Or maybe it was because Buck was hanging out with his UCLA buddy Matheson at HQ and somehow got lumped in with Moose on the Speirs wedding invitation list? History nerds should have gone to museums with Lip and Smokey.

And I never really considered why Cann called him Sparky. I just thought it was random, these 1940s guys all have some cool nickname. Ron did light up in that letter when Dick called him Sparky like it was a great memory. Google really comes up with some fun ones for that 'lively' 'energetic' 'clever' 'term of endearment towards a guy'....I mean let the imagination run wild. Maybe it just rolled off the tongue well- Sparky Speirs.

Yeah, as much as they did and went through they were still a bunch of 20 something year old guys. What else do you do but talk shit? Sometimes it hurts too much to talk about home. So we have this guy who is weird and crazy and doing bad-ass shit and everyone is talking about him. Everyone knows about him. Nobody says "Speirs who?". Or "Why do you need to take ammo from the Germans? They don't have .45 cal ammo or 30-06?" as Sparky walks into the Rhine and tosses his towel on the shore.

I do want to get my hands on the interview where Ambrose talks to Lip about Speirs. Because there is probably way more than "He came to cry on my bed the first time he got drunk". Carwood, please, there is way more you are not telling us. The man is billeted with you (his first sergeant and not any of the Lts?), comes to you when the officers get him drunk and ruin his life, gets YOU drunk for the first time in your life while trying to save you from pneumonia, you know exactly when the last reunion he attended was and 'he told me I was going to be promoted so that was +1 friend points'. And there is no way the Lipton episode wasn't entirely pulled from Lipton himself, especially when Wahlberg was calling him everyday to talk about how to play it.

I also want to know what his beef was with Billy Turner.

We need all the gossip from Charlie Co and Dog.

[darkdoverpseeker]

🕊 hey, 21F adv.lit–novella discord writer here who is looking to reignite her love for collaborative writing by engaging in a dark romance rp full of intense drama, sizzling emotions, and electrifying chemistry. i'm a little out of practice, but i can write multiple discord messages worth of content, hitting up to 2–6+ messages as an experienced novella writer. though, i'm also university student with a job, so i do reply at a relaxed pace (once or twice per week-ish), but i'm decently quick with OOC and employ a very lax reply policy for my partners (meaning you can do you with no worries). i will happily engage in lots of headcanoning, sharing aesthetics, tiktoks, ideas, and planning for rps, and i love to get that same enthusiasm in return !! don't be dry, contribute, and we'll get on well !! i can send pages of headcanons, and i will screech over our ocs, so let's fangirl together !!

an added note is that complex, imperfect, twisted, and flawed ocs are my bread and butter, and darker/villainous characters will always have my heart. so this is a love letter to all of y'all with a preference for writing well-developed, fucked-up ocs, your darlings have a safe haven with me. seriously, all my girlies are very far from cliche, and they're often decently messed-up, so i love it when i feel love&worry for your ocs cuz that's how you'll feel about my crazy darlings. i'm fine with dead-dove & darker themes (my only hard no is big age-gaps, ED's and incest, all other dark themes are welcome), other specifics like limits/kinks/rules can be discussed in dms.

idea-wise, i recently created twin sister ocs with a very interesting backstory, tons of darkness, and a codependent enmity. i'd love to write them within something akin to a mumu-esque rp– as in, writing two storylines within a shared timeframe/plot, two romances that are entwined, four characters that will overlap into each others lives and become tightly knit as either a 'found family' or 'clashing enemies'. so, it's like this: characters a/b and c/d may be our romantic pairings, but a/c are sister's with a complex set of issues to work through while b/d could be brother's, friends, rivals, etc (i'll leave that up to you, but i'd love if your two ocs also have a history) and we can have moments where their plotlines overlap where a/d might have a friendship moment, b/c may have a enmity storyline, while still writing a/b and c/d as main pairings.

note: a little cliche, but as of now, i am someone who prefers playing F roles within the MxF pairing, and also prefers to write with other F/nb writers (mdni).

themes i'm interested in: old money with criminal entanglements, different flavours of fucked-up characters, morally-questionable actions, rich kids gone wild, dark academia in university/high society, power imbalances, blackmail, old money vs new money, music/art scene (kpop vibes, rock scene, industry harshness, scandals) contrasted with corporate/business. my ocs will be east asian so kdrama/cdrama vibes are also welcome. dark romance is a must.

react if interested, and i'll get back to you asap.

like if interested !

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group E Round 4: Hinamatsuri vs Mawaru Penguindrum

#E2: Hinamatsuri

Psychic girl is adopted by Yakuza. Hijinks ensue.

#E3: Mawaru Penguindrum

Sending us penguins will NOT fix our terminally ill sister, but thanks anyways.

Details and poll under the cut!

#E2: Hinamatsuri

Summary:

While reveling in the successful clinching of a prized vase for his collection, Yoshifumi Nitta, a yakuza member, is rudely interrupted when a large, peculiar capsule suddenly materializes and falls on his head. He opens the capsule to reveal a young, blue-haired girl, who doesn't divulge anything about herself but her name—Hina—and the fact that she possesses immense powers. As if things couldn't get any worse, she loses control and unleashes an explosion if her powers remain unused. Faced with no other choice, Nitta finds himself becoming her caregiver.

Propaganda 1:

Hinamatsuri is about…

Hina, who is a psychic metaphor for autism ala Mob but imo better. She’s not only a weirdgirl who’s friends are almost all other strange girls, but she’s also into stuff that is just so either unfitting for her age or she’s just really intense about.

Nitta, who deserves all the fangirls and husbando-ing that every other random guy in anime gets. He’s a bachelor who loves pottery and can cook so well that Hina convinces her friends they have a gourmet chef working for them. He’s also a yakuza and is beloved by the aniki for being incredibly tough and scary. (He is gentle as hell with Hina.)

A bunch of other weird girls (Admin: this part of the propaganda has been cut due to possible spoilers)

Propaganda 2:

Hinamatsuri is an absolutely hilarious anime with some of the best comic timing I’ve ever seen. It’s so funny, the various girls are such nonsense.

Hina starts as a violent blank slate and develops into a lazy greedy horrible little gremlin. Anzu starts as a prideful edgy rival but eventually becomes a wholesome overly grateful insecure mess. Hitomi is forced to become more and more competent, independent, and adult because she can't stand up for herself and say no to people asking her for favors.

Nitta is a fantastic viewpoint character because he outwardly takes so much in stride that it’s easy to forget how annoyed and stressed everything makes him until he snaps.

Trigger Warnings: There is child nudity, but only for a Terminator reference. There is some comedic child neglect and slapstick. There is a child who is homeless, but it’s treated very sensitively.

#E3: Mawaru Penguindrum

Summary:

For the Takakura family, destiny is an ever-spinning wheel, pointing passionately in their direction with equal tides of joy and sorrow before ticking on to the next wishmaker. With their parents gone, twin brothers Kanba and Shouma live alone with their beloved little sister Himari, whose poor health cannot decline any further.

On the day Himari is given permission to temporarily leave the hospital, her brothers take her out to the aquarium to celebrate, where the family's supposed fate is brought forth with her sudden collapse. However, when Himari is inexplicably revived by a penguin hat from the aquarium's souvenir shop, the hand of fate continues to tick faithfully forward.

With her miraculous recovery, though, comes a cost: there is a new entity within her body, whose condition for keeping her fate at bay sends the boys on a wild goose chase for the mysterious "Penguin Drum." In their search, the boys will have to follow the threads of fate leading from their own shocking past and into the lives of other wishmakers vying for the Penguin Drum, all hoping to land upon their chosen destiny.

Propaganda:

Do you like weird artsy stuff? Do you love magical girls? How about weird, messed up character dynamics? Then boy oh boy, Mawaru Penguindrum is the show for you! The show starts out funny enough, but will quickly spiral into an intense and intricate plot, involving fate, the mafia, magical destiny-rewriting spells, and penguins. Which yes, before you ask, the funny penguins are in fact plot relevant.

Penguindrum isn’t really a show about all that stuff though, even though it is. It’s a very symbolic story, about living under the crushing heel of capitalism, and the quiet poison of the societally expected nuclear family dynamic. I could write an essay on each and every single one of the characters, as they’re all given a lot of depth and time to grow. Every character has their own baggage that, one way or another, ties back to someone else. Everyone in this show is connected in some way shape or form, and that’s really highlighted when everything starts to fall apart. Be warned: this show is NOT a light watch! If you’re the type of person who gets really into deciphering symbolism and creating your own meaning from pieces of media, then this show is for you!

Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Flashing Lights/Flickering Images, Gender Identity/Sexuality Discrimination, Guns, Incest, Kidnapping, Nudity, Pedophilia, Rape/Non-Con, Smoking, Suicide, Bomb Threats/Attempts and Terrorisim

It’s a very major plot point. This show is HEAVILY based off the 95 Tokyo Sarin Gas Attacks, so if content like that is triggering to you, tread lightly.

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how it’s presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form with your revisions, and I’ll consider adapting those changes.

New: Starting round 5, screenshots will be included in the poll post. You can submit screenshots through the form linked above, or through here, via ask or dm.

Guidelines in submitting screenshots:

No NSFW or spoilery images.

Pick some good images please. Don’t send any blurry or pixelated ones.

You may send up to 9 screenshots, but not all may be used.

[mishasminion360]

If Only In My Dreams

Zach Wellison x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff; smidgens of angst; mentions of war; a little Christmas magic.

Summary: It’s never been harder to be in love with a marine when the man in question is overseas for the holidays.

A/N: Sorry to get all depresso but….this past October I lost my father very suddenly. My biggest supporter; my best friend. Mom and I barely made it through Thanksgiving and now Christmas is hitting me hard. I’ve spent the last week thinking how I’d give anything to have him here for the holidays, and my angst spawned this idea. Everyone, please remember to cherish your loved ones, especially during the most magical times of the year. I hope that 2023 will be a better year for all 😊

You can’t recall a Christmas that’s ever felt colder. Even with the fireplace roaring you can’t seem to feel the heat. His embrace warms you more than any flame.

He’s been gone for a year but it feels like 10. True to his word there hasn’t been a day where you and Zach haven’t spoken via Zoom, or a week where there wasn’t a postcard from parts unknown waiting in your mailbox.

The last letter you’d received had been accompanied by a small box. A ring box. An empty ring box. At the bottom of the postcard, following his missive, was a P.S.

“Think about it and get back to me.”

You didn’t have to think about it; you’ve had the answer locked and loaded since the day you’d met Zach Wellison. Now you just need the man to give it to. Home safe and sound.

That odd letter had arrived a week ago, and only silence followed. Now here it is Christmas Eve and you’ve never been more aware of your loneliness. The lights on the tree don’t seem to twinkle; the hot chocolate just doesn’t taste as sweet. All of the holiday magic has faded away, replaced by a heaviness that settles into your head and your heart.

***

You’re halfway through “Elf”—vaguely chuckling at the absurdity of Buddy’s holiday antics—when there comes a knock. You fly to the door faster than the narrator in “Twas the Night Before Christmas”, eager to investigate your late night visitor.

A FedEx driver is the last person you’re expecting to find shivering in the snow on your porch.

“Don’t you folks get the day off?”

“Not as long as there are still important Christmas packages to deliver into the right hands.”

He hands you a small cardboard envelope and instructs you to sign on the dotted line. You watch him wander all the way back to the warmth of his waiting truck before tearing open the envelope and fishing around for its contents.

You can only stare in awe at the diamond ring that falls into your palm, glinting like a snowflake that’s caught the light of the moon.

“Well, what do you say?”

God, you hope it’s not a dream; a holiday hallucination. There he stands on your front lawn, stateside, adorned in his fatigues and rucksack at his feet.

You’re off the porch and tearing through the snow, launching yourself into Zach’s arms with enough force to send you both falling into powder.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he chuckles, wrapping you in those arms you’ve been longing for. You’re instantly warm regardless of the slush filling your pajamas.

“It’s always been ‘yes’, Wellison.”

He slings has pack over his shoulder and carries you inside just as the clock strikes midnight.

“Looks like I made it just in time. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

Zach doesn’t let your feet touch the floor until you’re beneath the mistletoe.

@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @pascalsky @pascalpanic @heythere-mel @healingstardust @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @kiizhikehn-cedar @hellovanessax-deactivated202209 @fangirling-alert @fromthedeskoftheraven @axshadows @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @pbeatriz-blog @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @foli-vora @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @hb8301 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @dobbyjen @supernaturalgirl20 @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @neganwifey25-blog @twistedboxy @emiemiemiii