antolovich:

thepandabaker:

adeyami:

Land of the free home of the rich

What really scares me is that they all have significantly cheaper health care AND education, which means Americans not only make the least, they pay the most.

…wait, what?

antolovich:

thepandabaker:

adeyami:

Land of the free home of the rich

What really scares me is that they all have significantly cheaper health care AND education, which means Americans not only make the least, they pay the most.

…wait, what?

failmacaw:

nightmargin:

W E L C O M E

B  E    O  U  R    G  U  E  S  T

failmacaw:

nightmargin:

W E L C O M E

B  E    O  U  R    G  U  E  S  T

purpbanga:

19-o1:

Preeaaaachhhhhh

Exactly!!

purpbanga:

19-o1:

Preeaaaachhhhhh

Exactly!!

coveredinsnow-:

ilovemaydayparade69:

rubee:

"why dont you just give him a chance"

idk because im not physically or mentally attracted to him and ‘but he likes you’ or ‘but hes really nice’ isnt going to change the fact that im not interested

Damn, I don’t think women know how much that really hurts

image

The feelsy feels of Feelsy Town

flowerfactories:

wasteland-observer:

Skin could be felt ripping open as the fist was launched into the marine’s features. Fresh blood oozed from the lips, however through all of that he didn’t make a noise save for an initially surprised grunt. His face felt sore however he was less in pain then he was shocked and the yelling only relieved him that he was okay. 

The moment the scrawny man had begun laughing a sick feeling in his stomach developed. The kind where you knew something was wrong and you couldn’t quite decipher was. It was a mixture of fear and uncertainty. That’s when he touched his face and hugged him tightly. 

The marine found himself lost for words and unable to respond. He was rejoiced that the man before him hadn’t perished and that’s when he remembered. 

"John, you need to eat. Can you do that?" He asked with a tone of urgency. "I mean, like, what should I do?" The marine could feel the tears continue to stream even after the hug. He was a man who loved to protect people, so feeling like he couldn’t do anything or not knowing what to do absolutely crushed him. 

"Right right, okay yeah…" The Bandit choked as he leaned back against the rough bark of the tree. He found himself winding his fingers back into his threadbare shirt to grasp at the cloth above the beating in his chest. As if the clothing were weighing down on his heart, and as if it made a difference.

"Um…food, pain pills if you have anything like that and uh…water." He managed to breathe as a harsh wince took place over his face. A sudden pain exploded in his head and as well down the length of his left arm. He envisioned a needle trying to worm it’s way through his blue veins. A sudden ‘ach’ escaped his mouth unintentionally as he recoiled and tucked his knees to his chest.

"Fuck, Mark. Oh my God." John slumped lower against the tree, an expression of pain and fear creasing every feature.

"Guh…is this what having a heart attack is like?… You just hurry, I…just-" He paused as another terrible wave exploded in his head, though it was then he snapped himself into focus, as best as he could, anyway. He started with evening out his huffed breaths, as panicked as he was, and as quickly as he wanted to breathe, he forced it to slow down. He then found himself using the tree to support himself as he stood on his one good foot and forced himself to squat as far as he could manage.

"The last time I passed out…it was hot out and I had my knees locked for too long…when they got me up…they told me to take deep breaths and do squats…cause it gets the blood flowing….and makes the heart beat faster…" He huffed, only able to accomplish a few awkward movements before finding himself on the ground again.

"I don’t know what to do."

As everything unfolded before the marines eyes he trembled slightly and grabbed for the food and water he had taken out earlier. After that he dug more for the pain killers and handed them to him with a bottle of water. When the burly man saw John on the floor once more, he picked him up and sat the heavy sack next to him as a sort of pillow. 

"You should lie down for a minute. Catch your breath and recover." There was no way he could hide the concern and anxiety visibly plastered onto his face. "Then eat as much as you can. Mark retrieved his crossbow and arrows and kept them at his side while he watched over the scrawny man. 

"Hey and uh…" he blushed and looked down at him. Mark didn’t even know why he found himself so flushed. "I’m really glad you’re… alive." He paused a moment and without really thinking he cupped the man’s face and pressed his trembling, bleeding lips against his. He pulled away immediately and blushed profusely. 

"Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m not sure what got into me."

Quédate Conmigo ((or an alternate title: Lester monologues as Ash develops his character))

flowerfactories:

wasteland-observer:

She looked at the pair of tweezers held in between his fingers and looked away immediately after, as she knew precisely what would follow. While the french teacher had helped the wounded when they came to her, she disliked seeing blood and gore and hated experiencing the pain, herself. 

"No, es tu culpa. De hecho, quiero darle las gracias por insistir en que me llevaba esta armadura." Her frail hands gestured towards the area where she had been shot in the chest. "I’m pretty sure it’s a lot more difficult to recover to a bullet in the chest than the arm." The ghoul’s lips curled into a half smile however was interrupted by a small wince as she felt the man jam the tweezers into her arm to retrieve the bullet. The woman stomped her foot to help ease the pain. 

"I’m sorry for calling you an ass." 

No te preocupes por eso, chica, estoy acostumbrado a ella.” The mercenary mumbled as he wrapped a relatively clean bandage around her arm. He leaned back as he wiped the bloodied bullet off on his pants and gingerly placed it into her grasp.

Hay que mantenerlo, es buena suerte ahora. Trust me. I keep all the bullets I’ve been shot with. Toca madera, but ever since I started saving them, bullets seem to miss me, hit the Kevlar, or if they do get me, it isn’t life threatening… The first time I got really hurt, I got hit right here.” He paused and gestured to a hidden scar just a few inches right of the center of his sternum.

"This was before I got Kevlar and just had some leather armor, and I swear  I didn’t know I had so much blood in me. But then when I sat myself down to take the bullet out, I realized it was acting like a plug. All lodged in there and all that. I could see a few veins that I probably would’ve cut trying to get it out. So, that’s how I saved my first bullet. Todavía está allí. Even after all this time, I can still feel it. No se ha movido dentro de cincuenta años….Perdón por hablar tanto, tenemos que encontrar un lugar seguro. Let’s go.”

((feel free to put in a time skip :D like, they’re on the roof stair case thing of a hotel rn, so I’d say time skip when they find a secure room with a door they can lock and sleep n all that jazzzzzzz))

The comment caused her frown immediately. She felt terrible for swearing at the man and the comment made her feel worse. 

"Thank you." She noted dumbfoundedly as the bullet fell into the teacher’s palms. "How many do you have?" 

***

After Erica was patched up, the two retired to a hotel room inside the hotel. While there was still some signs of daylight out, the french teacher was thoroughly exhausted and didn’t want to walk any further with the pain killer still blazing through her system. 

Despite the fact that she wanted to lay down and forget the day had even happened, she still had enough energy to complain to the ghoul. regarding that she would not, under any circumstances sleep in a room without two beds for the both of them. 

Once she had her wishes granted she went into the bathroom to change into some more comfortable sleepwear and made the rickety, old bed as comfortable as she could. The french teacher fanned out her auburn hair and fell into a deep sleep within seconds. 

The feelsy feels of Feelsy Town

flowerfactories:

wasteland-observer:

The marine saw the addicts eyes flutter open and he grew frustrated. Not having the courage in him to slap him once more, the bulky man reached for his shoulders and shook him around and hot tears began to stream from his eyes. He noticed the vomit and tried to sit him up against the nearest tree. 

Wake the fuck up!” He barked as if he was ordering the man to awake and be okay. He continued to shake him; lips quivering and his voice aired a terrible pain. It had a shakiness to it; a sort of desperation for everything to finally end up all right. For life to finally give the tired marine a break. “Fuck, John… be okay.” 

As the ebbing body’s eyelid fluttered, he was only able to see out of focus figures. However, it was the sudden shout and violent shaking that got him. It was much more shocking and powerful for some unfathomable reason than the harsh slap that still stung his cheek. All together his senses offered their own slap of reality as he snapped alert with a blood curdling screech and without a second thought he sent the hardest punch he could manage out to whatever was touching him. 

In his fogged mind, he could have sworn he was still alone, leaned against that tree after he’d gotten shot and where he’d set his death bed, as if the memory of Mark waited too long to load. He felt his bony knuckles hit teeth, and he recoiled violently to clutch the stinging hand to his chest.

His eye locked with the Marine, his pupil still dilated, and a frenzied expression crossed his features. It took several moments of blank staring before his vision cleared and he could recognize all of Mark’s features.

Several questions fluttered through his mind all at once, however the first words he sought were something questionable of their own.

Shut the FUCK up, asshole! What the fuck are zombies attracted to? NOISE AND DEAD PEOPLE. Shhhh.” He finished, a small smirk filtering over the petrified expression he’d catered. A quiet giggle of hysteria surfaced from his tightened chest, however he couldn’t quite stop the laughing from there.

"How the FUCK am I alive?” He questioned, his smile growing so big his jaw immediately hurt, and found himself nearly toppling back over to the moist ground as a silent laugh brought him leaning forward into his legs.

Once he’d recovered, his glossy eye flickered back to the Marine and he caught sight the glistening from a hot tear on his cheek. His expression dropped as he leaned forward to touch Mark’s cheek and caught the tear in his fingertips. His expression switched from hysterical amusement to sadness in all about the snap of a finger. His lip trembled violently as he cupped his savior’s cheek in his hand. He lunged forward, his arms thrown around his neck as he pulled him into the tightest embrace he could manage.

His spastic heart fluttered as his stomach clenched in a sense of strange repose.

Thank you.” He whispered softly, so soft he wasn’t sure if he was heard.

Skin could be felt ripping open as the fist was launched into the marine’s features. Fresh blood oozed from the lips, however through all of that he didn’t make a noise save for an initially surprised grunt. His face felt sore however he was less in pain then he was shocked and the yelling only relieved him that he was okay. 

The moment the scrawny man had begun laughing a sick feeling in his stomach developed. The kind where you knew something was wrong and you couldn’t quite decipher was. It was a mixture of fear and uncertainty. That’s when he touched his face and hugged him tightly. 

The marine found himself lost for words and unable to respond. He was rejoiced that the man before him hadn’t perished and that’s when he remembered. 

"John, you need to eat. Can you do that?" He asked with a tone of urgency. "I mean, like, what should I do?" The marine could feel the tears continue to stream even after the hug. He was a man who loved to protect people, so feeling like he couldn’t do anything or not knowing what to do absolutely crushed him. 

callmekairi:

I want all these patches!!!! I’d love to have the “Outer Heaven” one on full back on a jacket.
Yes they are all mgs patches and yes there are more of them.

The feelsy feels of Feelsy Town

flowerfactories:

wasteland-observer:

As the lifeless eyes peeked through the marine could feel the tears welling up and he found it hard to swallow. He raised his hand and did the first thing he thought would surely wake him up; slap him. 

The brick of a hand came with half the force; the burly man didn’t have it in him to hurt him purposefully. He just wanted him alive and well and to stay awake so he could tell Mark what he could do. The slap still left a Mark and still made the man feel incredibly guilty for leaving a red handprint on the side of his face. He was trying his absolute best to fight off the tears as he watched in horror a lifeless man drifting farther and farther away. Innocent people dying around him wasn’t new to him, however, he always felt guilty for every person he couldn’t save. And while he didn’t know John very well something about him drew him to want to go above and beyond to make sure he ended up alive and well. 

The sheer force sent such a shock through the entirety of his being. It wasn’t the pain that sent the rip through him, it was the force of the hit and his head tossing sideways. It sent a violent, gurgling inhale through his lungs and a sudden coughing that only brought up bile and the one bite he’d eaten in days. The vomit was enough to rouse the sobered man to roll onto his side as the dry heaving induced more dizziness and pain, so much that he found himself nearly going under again.

However, he forced his eyelids open, even though his eye was still half rolled up into his head.

The marine saw the addicts eyes flutter open and he grew frustrated. Not having the courage in him to slap him once more, the bulky man reached for his shoulders and shook him around and hot tears began to stream from his eyes. He noticed the vomit and tried to sit him up against the nearest tree. 

Wake the fuck up!” He barked as if he was ordering the man to awake and be okay. He continued to shake him; lips quivering and his voice aired a terrible pain. It had a shakiness to it; a sort of desperation for everything to finally end up all right. For life to finally give the tired marine a break. “Fuck, John… be okay.”