reblog if you're not expecting anything on Valentines day
Just do it, I promise it isn’t supposed to be sad.
Just reblog and wait. You will see.
will byers stan first human second

blake kathryn
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
styofa doing anything
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
One Nice Bug Per Day
Jules of Nature

ellievsbear

JBB: An Artblog!

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Game of Thrones Daily
AnasAbdin

Kaledo Art

Kiana Khansmith
Claire Keane
occasionally subtle
todays bird
taylor price

Andulka
dirt enthusiast

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@iamnumberfivebj
reblog if you're not expecting anything on Valentines day
Just do it, I promise it isn’t supposed to be sad.
Just reblog and wait. You will see.
Admin's AU Idea For The End Of Fall Of Five
Mod: So I'm not supposed to be online (concussion) but I couldn't resist. My doctor didn't say I couldn't read so I finally finished Fall of Five. I have an AU Theory for how that story would work in my characters world. Traitor!Five wasn't actually BJ!Five. Like, Traitor!Five that goes to try to kill Nine, is BJ's twin brother, who made it off Lorien with the Mogs. He had Legacies as well and always believed he was the real five. So as Eight jumps in front of Nine and is about to be stabbed, a voice pops in Traitor!Five's head (i.e BJ) telling him to stop giving her name, Five, a bad rap and to leave the Garde alone. So they continue fighting in Traitor!Five's mind, making him seem like he's insane anyways to be talking to himself. As the Mog ships start to show up, they all escape except Traitor!Five and Eight and Seven live happily ever after..!...
*cries anyways knowing this isn't real* WHY YOU CAUSE ME FEELS PITTACUS
*flies away cause geezum my eyes hurt now*
So I came back on today, and actually saw I had a few people who missed me and wanted to Roleplay again. So I decided I should come back, and that some people actually like the idea of my account. Again guys, I’m an OC. Don’t just assume my character is like the real Five.
If anyone wants to Roleplay, just message me or reblog this. I’d love to get to know other Lorien Legacies (or truly Any fandom I’m a part of) roleplayers. :)
I don’t think we have… Call me BJ.
Cool! Nice to meet you!
(OOC) Not to intrude, but no, you can’t send messages or do follows with secondary blogs, trust me, I know. In fact, this use to be a secondary blog, until I decided I didn’t need a separate personal blog, so I deleted that one and made this one my one and only blog, so now I can do follows and send messages as this blog/character without having to worry about confusing others.
(OOC) I didn't even notice secondary blogs couldn't do that. Thanks! :)
The girl glanced around at the group of gangsters. She twirled the wooden baseball bat around her fingers, grinning sadistically. She didn’t have her legacies. She had to train somehow. It wasn’t like her Cêpan was going to come back and help her train. He made that clear when he never let her…
BANG! I ducked instinctively as I hear the shot go off, thinking that it was aimed at me, but when I realise that it wasn’t for me since I don’t feel any pain, I decide to think logically, and go looking in alleys for anyone who may have been shot. After looking in four previous alleys, I finally find a girl sitting in the fifth alley, looking hurt. I approach her slowly, my instincts telling me to be careful, and when I realise she isn’t threatening, and that she’s bleeding, I decide to help her. “Hi there. Are you okay?” I ask. “Does it look like I’m okay?” She says in a sarcastic manner, whilst holding her bleeding arm. “Sorry, not use to helping people after they get shot. Can I help you?” “How did you know…? It doesn’t matter; if you can stop the bleeding, then yes, you can help me.” I help her up slowly, making sure I don’t increase the bleeding. “I have a place near by” she says as we get up. “How close?” I ask. “It’s on this block, it’s the abandoned apartment building.” She says, dropping off at the end, almost like she’s embarrassed of her “home”. ‘At least she has a home I think, jealously. I immediately regret being jealous, and remembering that she’s injured. “Oh, okay, is there medical stuff there that can help us?” I ask, hoping that she’ll accept my help until she’s better. “Well, there aren’t any bandages, if that’s what you’re asking, but there is stuff that can help stop the bleeding.” She grunts, angrily. “Oh, well, I guess that will have to do, unless you’d be willing to go to a hospital.” I say, almost asking. “No! Uuuuhhhh…….. no, I, um, don’t think that’s a good idea.” 'She said that a little fast I think. We start heading down to her place, sticking to the shadows so no-one else will see us, as we don’t want to be seen by any “unsavory” people.
((Because you used first person, I’m going to swap over to that as well. This way it isn’t as confusing and stuff.))
I was still shocked that this boy offered to help me. Who was he? That didn’t even seem to really matter at the moment. What mattered was why he cared enough to offer his help. ‘Maybe he’s just a nice person, BJ. Stop being so paranoid…!’ I thought. I couldn’t help but snap at him, or get defensive. I know I have very little social skills… I was used to just thinking things to myself; not talking to another person.
I kept walking towards the old building that was set for demolition soon. No one knew I was staying here; besides this boy. I shook my head frantically as he spoke of a hospital. “I don’t like hospitals.” I added on, calming, afterwards. I actually had never been inside a hospital before. I just knew it wouldn’t be wise for an alien to sit there, and let them take blood tests.
I made sure to blend in with the shadows, when I could. That may have just been my paranoia, again, however. “Do you have a name?” I asked, turning into another ally way. I slowly climbed onto the dumpster, and grabbed the ladder with one arm. This would be fun. I grunted and began climbing up the ladder, slowly. I’d usually be up there by now. “I’m BJ.” I said, letting out a hiss of air as I bumped my shoulder on the railing of the fire escape. I pushed the window open and jumped inside, looking around at the small place I was calling home.
I looked around quickly, making sure there wasn’t anything out that shouldn’t have been. My chest was in my zipped backpack, so that was fine. I walked over to a pile of clothes I meant to wash, and tore a small piece of it off. I kept doing it till the shirt was completely in shreds. “This is the best I have for band aids.” I mumbled.
"Well, this place is… nice, I guess," I say, looking around, "anyone else living here?" I decide to start a conversation, starting out with some "normal" questions.
"No, no-one else, just… me," she responds, "but the building is destined for demolition, so it’s no surprise that no-one else is here, really, if you think about it."
"Oh, okay, so we’re by ourselves," I say more than I ask, "then…. you’re an orphan?"
"Yes, along with a whole bunch of others like me." She says, as if she’s hinting to something, something that I know more about than she realises.
"Oh, right; why are you living here? You seem like you’re capable of taking and doing what you want, when you want, and it seems like you can take more damage than the "average" person."
"I like to be alone, so yeah, I live here."
"Well, now that I give it some thought, I know of a place you can go, and since this, um, "building" is destined to be taken down, you can come with me, if you want."
She looks at me as if I’m crazy, but then her expression slowly changes to one of consideration, as if she’s actually thinking of accepting my “offer”. “Hmmm, okay, yeah, I’m up for it, if you actually are.”
"Oh, alright, yeah, you just need to gather your things, whatever they may be, and meet me outside, unless you need my help." I finish the statement flatly, since I’m hoping she declines.
"No, no, I’ll be fine." She replies, much to my joy.
"Alrighty then, I guess I’ll be outside then."
"Okay, I’ll be out soon."
I walk outside, scanning the streets, making sure we weren’t followed or tracked. When it seems clear, I climb down, then double-check, because I get the feeling we are being followed, but I don’t see anyone, at least I’m pretty sure I don’t.
After a little while, maybe ten, fifteen minutes, “BJ”, as she called herself, climbs down, and that’s when I decide to tell her my “name”, “I’m… John Joseph Jacobs, the third, but most people just call me Joseph, but I don’t mind what you call me really, I just hope you’ll call me “friend, for now.”
"Oh, right, I guess I’ll just go with the flow, and call you… Joe, hehe." She says, smiling.
"Coolio, guess we’ll be going then."
"Yeah, sure…" She says, looking back at the old hotel.
…………………………………………..
Three days have passed since we left the city, and now we’re nearing the halfway mark, an old, broken down, unused gas station that still has plumbing, and some non-perishable supplies that I grab occasionally.
"We can stop here for some water, and food, if you’re hungry." I offer the food only because I’m used to not eating for long periods of time.
"Right, thanks." She breaths, a little exhausted.
I scan the area around us, making sure that we aren’t being followed by any Mogs, because no human would travel out here just to beat up some kids. The only problem is, since this place isn’t used frequently anymore, the grass has grown very tall and white, so it makes it hard to see anything that might be hiding in the grass. At least that’s what I would be saying if I was human, but I’m not, so I definitely notice the dark, tall, brooding figures standing in the field. Mogs. They’ve found me, and I wasn’t really expecting them because I’ve been in hiding, so I don’t have any of my weapons with me. When I realise that I may have to fight alone, BJ comes bursting out the doors, with a baseball bat, that I guess she found inside, and when she walks out those doors, she looks pissed, as if something happened inside that annoyed her. But then she continues past me, straight into the field of grass, and right up to one of the Mogs, and smacks him, square in the head.
SMACK!! (SMAck, SMack, Smack, Smack («<echo.)) The sound is so loud, I would’ve mistaken it for a gunshot, had I not seen it happen in front of me. But after the echo dies down, all hell breaks loose, with Mog canon fire zooming at me, and BJ, from all sorts of directions. I duck down immediately, trying to avoid getting shot, and then crawl forwards as fast as I can, trying to make my way to BJ. When I get to her, she’s seething with rage, looking around frantically, probably for her next victim. In that instant, I realise that she’s a Loric, just like me, but I’m not sure what her number is, but guessing that Four was killed around nine months ago, and considering the number of Mogs that seem to be here, I’m assuming that she’s number Five.
"Hey! Are you number Five?!?" I yell over the hell that is the gunfire.
"Yes, you dunce!" She yells angrily, "and I’m going to make these fucking bastards pay for what they did to my home!"
"OUR home!" I say, thinking what our next move should be.
"Our?" She questions, "then, you’re Loric?"
"Yes!" I confirm, "now we just need to plan our next move…"
BJ then starts charging forward, putting plans clear from her mind, and just acting on instinct. I decide to follow her lead, quite literally, and turn into my most instinctive form, a boar like creature, almost the size of a small bus, with armour plates covering it’s skin, shining in the bright sun, prepared for battle.
………. Once the last shot is fired, I relax my entire body, turning back into my usual self and lying(?) down, waiting for Five to turn up. After a couple of minutes, she lies(?) down next to me with a sigh of relief. “Well, guess we’re both Loric then.”
"Yeah, guess so," I reply, "I’m Eight, just to let you know."
(Mod - And now we wait for the next part. Hope you guys are enjoying this, me and Five’s/BJ’s Mod (whichever one you want to use) have been discussing most of this over PM’s, except for this part, this one was mostly my own choice of events, and I hope BJ and her Mod like what I’ve done. Please let me know what you guys think of it, even if it’s “mean” criticism, I don’t care, I want to know what you guys think. Please give me tips and what not on this, I’m thinking of becoming an author later on in life, and this is where it starts, so I need as much feedback as I can get from people so I can improve my story writing skills. And FYI, Anon has been turned off for my ask, so I’ll know what you guys send me, and who sent it, and even if it’s mean criticism, it doesn’t matter, I’ll just read it if I want to or not.)
I couldn’t believe myself. Since when was I so talkative? I probably wasn’t thinking straight. Damn gunshot wound… She looked down at her shoulder as she walked around, trying to find other small first aid supplies. As I began explaining about the building, and how I was alone, I could slowly feel the wall around myself breaking down.
It hadn’t been a lie when I said I liked being alone. I couldn’t get others killed if I was alone. I remembered the boy I had traveled with for the past five years. I remembered his blue eyes and curly blonde hair. I remembered falling in love with him over the years… I remembered leaving in the middle of the night, realizing I didn’t want him to end up dead like the other people she had lost.
As the boy walked back outside, I pulled my shirt off to look at my shoulder. I took a wet rag and cleaned it off now dried blood. Pulling out the bullet was the fun part. I groaned and pulled it out quickly. I quickly began wrapping my shoulder in the old t-shirt. I grabbed my bag that was already packed and ready to go.
I climbed out the fire escape and jumped down, next to the boy. I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at his name. Damn. I sort of felt bad. What parent would name their kid John Joseph Jacobs? “Oh, right, I guess I’ll just go with the flow, and call you.. Joe.” I chuckled a bit, giving a lopsided smile. Might as well make the best of this.
I looked back at the building one last time before we started walking. “So long…” I mumbled. I turned back and ran a bit to catch up with Joe. “So,” I began. “Do you like Green Day?
………………………………………………………………………………………………….
It had been three days since I met and began traveling with this boy. He was something else alright. He was a real jokester, I had learned. He liked to kid around a lot.
I was kind of shocked that we found a gas station in the middle of nowhere. I panted softly as he said I could go inside real quick. This was training, in my mind. I needed to get used to this… As I walked inside, I looked around. I began shoving granola bars in my backpack. My brown eyes snapped to the counter, as I saw something move. I looked around, and grabbed a baseball bat.
Mogs. They found me. I swung hard, bashing its head in before it could see me. I let out a small yell of pain. The wound in my right shoulder opened up again… Damn it. I ran outside, remembering the boy who was with me now. I couldn’t let this kid die. Not on my watch.
I ran right past the boy, into the tall grass. I swung again as hard as I could. I wished I had my legacies, right about now. It would same me the pain from my shoulder. I looked around; not even bothered by the ash covering my shoes; which I usually would have been.
As I kept trying to fight off the Mogs, I tried to keep an eye on the boy. My eyebrows went up as he asked if I was number five. “Yes, you dunce!!” I yelled at him, before bashing in another Mogadorian skull. “And I’m going to make these fucking bastards pay for what they did to my home!” I yelled, narrowing my eyes at the rest of them. Honestly, I don’t remember what happen after that. My rage took over and I blacked out.
………………………………………………………………………………………………….
As I dropped down next to what I learned was number Eight, I groaned. I hadn’t had to fight like that in a long, long time. Training with those gangsters didn’t do anything compared to this. “Well, guess we’re both Loric, then.” I said.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He said. “I’m Eight, just to let you know.”
I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. I could almost hear the bombs again as they went off, all those years ago. The bombs that killed my family. The bombs that took my parent’s lives, along with my baby brother’s.
I got up slowly, looking around. “We can’t stay here. They’ll find us.” I held my hand out to him. “Do you know where the others are?” I asked.
(Mod- This is one of the best RP’s I’ve done, I swear. I hope others are enjoying reading this, and if you are, sorry about late updates. Eight’s Mod and I are in different time zones. J )
{ reblogging for loric-number-eight. It may be a link, I'm on Mobile. }
✧- For a short drabble about my character trying to get your character to go to bed. Castrice maybe..? Or any of our old ships...
BJ’s eyes opened wide. Her mother’s voice could still be heard booming through her mind; pounding in her thoughts. Amber’s thundering words in the background, followed by Deborah’s false accusations and insults. The words had been haunting her nonstop. She didn’t think they would ever go away. They came to her every time she finally had a peace in mind. Maybe a positive thought, or a simple ‘I think I look good today’ was ruined by their cruel insults. Even in dreams. That was when it was the worst. She could see her mother’s face as she spoke, throwing empty beer bottles. Amber and Deborah’s proud smirk once they saw her teary eyes. That is what caused her to wake up. Her face was already tear streaked, eyes red and puffy. What time was it? BJ didn’t care. Probably two, maybe three or four in the morning? But she didn’t think she was going back to sleep anytime soon. ‘You’re worthless,’ the voice said. ‘You’re a mistake,’ said another. ‘Nobody loves you. It’s all just pity. You’re pathetic.’ The thoughts tormented her brain until she had enough. She got up from her bed and ran for the bathroom.
Of course, she wouldn’t think to call anyone. It was late. No one would answer their phones, let alone come over and help her. Like her mom said, no one even loved her, right? BJ hid herself away, locking the door behind her. She had hoped she hadn’t woken younger sister. But to her displeasure, the six year old hesitantly knocked on the door. She was half asleep, but that didn’t stop her from wondering what was going on. “Beejay?” She asked softly. “Why are you in the bathroom?” The older sibling’s head whipped towards the closed door, and away from her hand, where her single hidden blade now lay. So close… ‘Dammit…’ she thought, taking a deep, shaky breath before answering. “I’m /fine/, Izzy. Go to sleep.” She muttered, failing to let her voice stay steady. The little girl bit her lip on the other side. Something clearly wasn’t right. And she knew it. But what was she to do? She asked the only person she could. Her daddy. Or the closest thing she could get to one, anyways.
Castiel was asleep, legs and arms sprawled out over the bed, one arm draped over his beauce shepard, Demon. His sleepy eyelids fluttered open at the sound of his phone blaring a loud rock song. ‘Why didn’t I shut the dumb thing off?’ he thought, groaning as he reached over and tried to grab his cell. It took several attempts for him to actually grab the phone, but he was able to snatch it before the call went to voicemail. “What do you want, it’s three in the morning!” Castiel muttered through the phone, not even bothering to check who it was. Any normal person would have the sense to wait till morning. Nothing could be that important to disturb him from his beauty sleep. But he was so very wrong.
“Daddy? I’m scared,” whispered little Isabella’s voice. His eyes bolted open. “Iz? What’s wrong?” He asked, toning his voice a little gentler for the young girl who deemed herself his ‘daughter’. “It’s BJ. She was crying. A-and she ran into the bathroom. She won’t let me in.” She said quietly. Cas bit his lip. This couldn’t be good. Especially after what he saw when he first told her he was in love with her. He let out a sigh and sat up, responding quickly before hanging up: “Don’t worry. I’ll be right over.”
After about fifteen to twenty minutes, Castiel was running up the stairs to BJ’s apartment. Sure he had two different shoes on—both of which annoyingly being made fit for the left foot—, messy red haired bed head, and tired eyes, but honestly his outfit didn’t seem like much a priority at the time. He knocked on the door impatiently, before it was unlocked and opened. Izzy stared up at him with her big brown eyes, watering a bit. “She keeps on crying. I can hear her through the door,” she whispered. Cas knelt down and kissed her head. “She’s gonna be okay. You go back to bed,” he responded, earning a nod from the small child as she walked over to her pink-colored bedroom. He watched as she walked away before darting over down the hall and towards the bathroom. “BJ?!” Castiel asked, knocking heavily on the door. The sixteen year old’s teary eyes grew wide. Cas? How could he be here? How could he know?! He always seemed to know when she was down. Because whenever she felt like quitting, he came to her rescue. “I already told Izzy. I’m fine, Cas,” she whispered, already knowing he wasn’t going to buy it. He never did. “Don’t give me that crap, BJ. I know you’re not fine. Now open the door before I kick it down.”
Hesitantly, BJ slowly got up from being seated on the toilet seat. Blood was dripping down her legs as she walked towards the door, and slowly unlocked it. Castiel watched as the knob turned on the other side, and the door opened. He looked around the bathroom. Pants tossed on the floor. A blade taken out of a pencil sharpener lay on the side of the sink. And fresh blood stained her thighs. BJ refused to look him in the eyes. She knew she would only get one thing by looking into them—guilt. She knew how much it hurt him to see her like this. Which was why she hadn’t been planning on telling him. Cas shut his eyes tightly and sighed. He walked inside the bathroom and shut the door. “Come on.” He mumbled, walking towards the toilet. She nodded slightly, so small it was almost unnoticeable, and followed him. “Sit,” he commanded, in which she followed again and sat on the toilet seat cover. Castiel knelt on the floor and looked up at her.
“What happened?” Castiel asked softly. She looked down and mumbled the words. “My mom…a-and Amber…a-nd Deb…” Beatrice answered, unable to say anything more. Castiel shut his eyes tightly. Of course. He shook his head and grabbed a wet towel, carefully trying to clean the cuts on her thighs, and whatever blood that dripped from them. It took a while, but they were all cleaned up. He helped her stand up and looked her in the eye. She knew what he wanted her to do. “Are you gonna do it, or do you want me to?” He asked, arching his red eyebrows. “I-I think I can do it.” Castiel nodded and stepped aside. BJ sighed shakily and grabbed the piece of sharp metal. She stared at it for a few seconds before letting it drop into the toilet. He watched as it plopped into the water before pulling the knob and flushing it down. She had no idea, but he was so proud at her for having done that. He knew it must have been tough.
Castiel helped her get to her room and back into bed. Some sleep would do her some good. Beatrice didn’t even bother trying to put her pants back on. It would hurt too much to try. So she climbed into bed just like that, in her boxer shorts and Green Day tee. She didn’t think this was gonna do much. She wasn’t even sure she could go back to sleep after that nightmare. Castiel sat next to her on the bed and looked down at the sheets. He knew he’d have to say something. “You know they’re lying. Or at least, I hope you do,” he glanced over at her, grabbing her hand and gently pressing his lips against her knuckles. She stared up at him, her face still blotchy and red, stained from tears. “I swear, you’re the prettiest girl I know. You aren’t fat. You aren’t stupid. And you absolutely are loved. Hell, if it wasn’t for your sister worrying about you, I wouldn’t have been here.” He whispered, chuckling almost silently. “Point is, don’t listen to them. Don’t you dare ever give in again. Cause that’s exactly what they want. I know you think you’re weak, but your not. Give them a taste of your medicine and kick some butt. I’ll be right there with you.,” he whispered, watching as her eyelids got heavy and she curled into his side. “I love you,” Castiel said one last time before she drifted to sleep. But he knew his words were successful once he noticed to small hint of a smile that lingered on the lips of her motionless body.
( okay so i may have gone coMPLETELY OFF TOPIC BUT I JUST COULDNT THINK OF A WAY FOR HIM TO TRY TO GET HER TO SLEEP UNLESS IF ITS SOMETHING LIKE THIS. AND HAHAHA SCREW ‘short drabble’ hAVE A FREAKING STORY OF TEARS AND MISERY BECAUSE THOSE ARE THE BEST KINDS ;))) side note: gomen for crap writing )
{ Wow you made me cry ;^; but OMG Castrice is my life like what even. I'll have the BRADJ and the ELIZIAN ones posted tomorrow, for ya. ;3 }
100 Drabble Challenge 80 - Only Human
Who was he? The boy who traveled with the alien. The boy who gave up on everything in his life, to take part in a war that didn't involve him. He wasn't just a boy. He was Ian Grant. He wasn't an alien. He was only a human.
The sound of sticks snapping underneath their feet was the only noise to be heard in a while. The leaves crunching added a bit more to the silence the pair was facing. Neither minded the silence. They were both enjoying the quiet for once. It gave both BJ and Ian a chance to relax and collect their thoughts. They were on a hunt, after all.
They both had guns pulled as they made their way through the woods. They had been tracking a small group of Mogadorian's that had broken away from the rest of their much larger group. BJ, the older of the two, had tried to get the boy to stay back at their hotel room. He had so much to live for. He didn't need to die because of her.
Like always, Ian refused. He wasn't just walking away. He wasn't going to give up everything Five had told him now. If she was telling the truth, about the Mogs, then they deserved what they had coming to them. Of course, he never expected Bea to hand him a gun, and expect him to know hot to use it.
The whole event went down in five minutes. BJ killed three of them, and Ian got the other two. Even then, they still ended up covered in the ash remains of the aliens. BJ wore her normal scowl as she brushed the ash off her leather jacket. "Wasn't too bad, eh, kid?" She asked, looking at Ian with her brown eyes.
Ian looked back at BJ, brushing the ash off his jeans. He tucked the gun away on the inside of his jacket, and shrugged nonchalantly. The six teen year old took a minute to collect his thoughts. "They didn't seem as deadly as what you had said. They looked more creepy than harmful." He shrugged once more, and looked at the ash.
BJ blinked a few times, looking at him in shock. They didn't look harmful? She had to remember sometimes that this kid wasn't one of them. He was normal. He didn't know aliens existed before he met her. Her heart fell slightly. That was right. He was just a human. That's all he would ever be. Another, ordinary, innocent to this world full of monsters, human.
She would miss her dear friend one day.
We have 150 days to go, and we will have our hands on The Revenge of Seven! It isn’t that far when can preoccupy ourselves with other stuff.
Here is a list of good Lorien Legacies fanfics (if you have any recommendations you can message us and we will add it to this...
no you guys dont understand RAPUNZEL IS GERMAN FOR A CERTAIN TYPE OF LETTUCE
I WOULD BE SAD IF PEOPLE DIDN’T KNOW THAT IT WAS A TYPE OF LETTUCE BECAUSE THE STORY OF RAPUNZEL SHE IS LITERALLY NAMED AFTER LETTUCE.
no her name means never give up
NONONONOOOO!!!!!!!! IN THE ORIGINAL STORY RAPUNZEL’S MOM GETS CRAVINGS!!! WHEN SHE LOOKS OUT THE WINDOW, SHE SEES SOME RAPUNZEL, AND IS LIKE “iF I DONT HAVE SO OF THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW, I WILL CHOKE SOMEONE!” WELL, OF COURSE THE FUCKING GARDEN BELONGS TO A WITCH, BECAUSE NOTHING GOOD EVER HAPPENS AT THE BEGINNING OF A FAIRYTALE! sO, HER HUBBY SNEAKS OVER, AND GETS HER SOME.THEN, HE GETS CAUGHT, AND IN PUNISHMENT, HE HAS TO GIVE UP HIS BABY WHEN SHE’S BORN. sO THE WITCH LOCKS HER IN A TOWER, AND NAMES HER RAPUNZEL AFTER THE FUCKING LETTUCE. I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU GET THE IDEA THAT HER NAME MEANS NEVER GIVE UP, BUT IT’S WRONG . FUCKITY BYE!
IT MEANS NE\/ER GI\/E UP.
Well her mother never did give up on that fucking lettuce did she
I WATCHED A CARTOON OF RAPUNZEL WHEN I WAS REALLY SMALL AND I’M 98% SURE IT HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH LETTUCE
buT GUYS
i just laughed so hard at this
Reblogging just for that last picture
Reblog if you've been offended by the words of your own parents.
I want to know if I’m the only one.
fucking shit
Definitely.
sooooo many times.
The amount of notes makes me sad
Wow the number makes me sad.
I am not alone!
my people
100 Drabble Challenge 6 - Obsession
{Yeah I skipped a few, I know, but I really wanted to do this one.}
Obsessions. Everyone has one. Weather it be time on the internet, to cocaine. Everyone has some sort of obsession or addiction. BJ's happened to be something less lethal. Cookies.
They were not just any type of cookies. They were Chips Ahoy Mini's. She loved them so much. They had to be one of the only things on this god forsaken planet that made the Loric girl smile. The smell that came from the bag when her slender fingers opened it. The crunch they had to them when she popped one into her mouth. The perfect ratio of mini chocolate chips to the size of the cookie. They were her little piece of Heaven on Earth.
When ever she past a small store she had to stop and get some. She felt they made everything better. They filled the emptiness in her cold, stone heart, and they made her stomach feel warm and fuzzy. They made her take her mind of the whole war for just a while, and wonder what her life would be like had she still had her parents, and was still on Lorien.
She imagined these cookies tasting like the ones her mother would make. She saw herself trying to help, but just making a greater mess. She could see her little brother, giggling in his high chair, while her father read a book while sitting at the kitchen table. She badly wanted that life.
She knew she'd never have it. She'd never have the chance to have it. Her parents would always be gone. She'd never see her brother's smiling face again. They were gone... This felt like her only tie to them.
She would forever be obsessed with the sweet, crunchy taste of her family.
The girl glanced around at the group of gangsters. She twirled the wooden baseball bat around her fingers, grinning sadistically. She didn’t have her legacies. She had to train somehow. It wasn’t like her Cêpan was going to come back and help her train. He made that clear when he never let her…
BANG! I ducked instinctively as I hear the shot go off, thinking that it was aimed at me, but when I realise that it wasn’t for me since I don’t feel any pain, I decide to think logically, and go looking in alleys for anyone who may have been shot. After looking in four previous alleys, I finally find a girl sitting in the fifth alley, looking hurt. I approach her slowly, my instincts telling me to be careful, and when I realise she isn’t threatening, and that she’s bleeding, I decide to help her. “Hi there. Are you okay?” I ask. “Does it look like I’m okay?” She says in a sarcastic manner, whilst holding her bleeding arm. “Sorry, not use to helping people after they get shot. Can I help you?” “How did you know…? It doesn’t matter; if you can stop the bleeding, then yes, you can help me.” I help her up slowly, making sure I don’t increase the bleeding. “I have a place near by” she says as we get up. “How close?” I ask. “It’s on this block, it’s the abandoned apartment building.” She says, dropping off at the end, almost like she’s embarrassed of her “home”. ‘At least she has a home I think, jealously. I immediately regret being jealous, and remembering that she’s injured. “Oh, okay, is there medical stuff there that can help us?” I ask, hoping that she’ll accept my help until she’s better. “Well, there aren’t any bandages, if that’s what you’re asking, but there is stuff that can help stop the bleeding.” She grunts, angrily. “Oh, well, I guess that will have to do, unless you’d be willing to go to a hospital.” I say, almost asking. “No! Uuuuhhhh…….. no, I, um, don’t think that’s a good idea.” 'She said that a little fast I think. We start heading down to her place, sticking to the shadows so no-one else will see us, as we don’t want to be seen by any “unsavory” people.
((Because you used first person, I’m going to swap over to that as well. This way it isn’t as confusing and stuff.))
I was still shocked that this boy offered to help me. Who was he? That didn’t even seem to really matter at the moment. What mattered was why he cared enough to offer his help. ‘Maybe he’s just a nice person, BJ. Stop being so paranoid…!’ I thought. I couldn’t help but snap at him, or get defensive. I know I have very little social skills… I was used to just thinking things to myself; not talking to another person.
I kept walking towards the old building that was set for demolition soon. No one knew I was staying here; besides this boy. I shook my head frantically as he spoke of a hospital. “I don’t like hospitals.” I added on, calming, afterwards. I actually had never been inside a hospital before. I just knew it wouldn’t be wise for an alien to sit there, and let them take blood tests.
I made sure to blend in with the shadows, when I could. That may have just been my paranoia, again, however. “Do you have a name?” I asked, turning into another ally way. I slowly climbed onto the dumpster, and grabbed the ladder with one arm. This would be fun. I grunted and began climbing up the ladder, slowly. I’d usually be up there by now. “I’m BJ.” I said, letting out a hiss of air as I bumped my shoulder on the railing of the fire escape. I pushed the window open and jumped inside, looking around at the small place I was calling home.
I looked around quickly, making sure there wasn’t anything out that shouldn’t have been. My chest was in my zipped backpack, so that was fine. I walked over to a pile of clothes I meant to wash, and tore a small piece of it off. I kept doing it till the shirt was completely in shreds. “This is the best I have for band aids.” I mumbled.
"Well, this place is… nice, I guess," I say, looking around, "anyone else living here?" I decide to start a conversation, starting out with some "normal" questions.
"No, no-one else, just… me," she responds, "but the building is destined for demolition, so it’s no surprise that no-one else is here, really, if you think about it."
"Oh, okay, so we’re by ourselves," I say more than I ask, "then…. you’re an orphan?"
"Yes, along with a whole bunch of others like me." She says, as if she’s hinting to something, something that I know more about than she realises.
"Oh, right; why are you living here? You seem like you’re capable of taking and doing what you want, when you want, and it seems like you can take more damage than the "average" person."
"I like to be alone, so yeah, I live here."
"Well, now that I give it some thought, I know of a place you can go, and since this, um, "building" is destined to be taken down, you can come with me, if you want."
She looks at me as if I’m crazy, but then her expression slowly changes to one of consideration, as if she’s actually thinking of accepting my “offer”. “Hmmm, okay, yeah, I’m up for it, if you actually are.”
"Oh, alright, yeah, you just need to gather your things, whatever they may be, and meet me outside, unless you need my help." I finish the statement flatly, since I’m hoping she declines.
"No, no, I’ll be fine." She replies, much to my joy.
"Alrighty then, I guess I’ll be outside then."
"Okay, I’ll be out soon."
I walk outside, scanning the streets, making sure we weren’t followed or tracked. When it seems clear, I climb down, then double-check, because I get the feeling we are being followed, but I don’t see anyone, at least I’m pretty sure I don’t.
After a little while, maybe ten, fifteen minutes, “BJ”, as she called herself, climbs down, and that’s when I decide to tell her my “name”, “I’m… John Joseph Jacobs, the third, but most people just call me Joseph, but I don’t mind what you call me really, I just hope you’ll call me “friend, for now.”
"Oh, right, I guess I’ll just go with the flow, and call you… Joe, hehe." She says, smiling.
"Coolio, guess we’ll be going then."
"Yeah, sure…" She says, looking back at the old hotel.
…………………………………………..
Three days have passed since we left the city, and now we’re nearing the halfway mark, an old, broken down, unused gas station that still has plumbing, and some non-perishable supplies that I grab occasionally.
"We can stop here for some water, and food, if you’re hungry." I offer the food only because I’m used to not eating for long periods of time.
"Right, thanks." She breaths, a little exhausted.
I scan the area around us, making sure that we aren’t being followed by any Mogs, because no human would travel out here just to beat up some kids. The only problem is, since this place isn’t used frequently anymore, the grass has grown very tall and white, so it makes it hard to see anything that might be hiding in the grass. At least that’s what I would be saying if I was human, but I’m not, so I definitely notice the dark, tall, brooding figures standing in the field. Mogs. They’ve found me, and I wasn’t really expecting them because I’ve been in hiding, so I don’t have any of my weapons with me. When I realise that I may have to fight alone, BJ comes bursting out the doors, with a baseball bat, that I guess she found inside, and when she walks out those doors, she looks pissed, as if something happened inside that annoyed her. But then she continues past me, straight into the field of grass, and right up to one of the Mogs, and smacks him, square in the head.
SMACK!! (SMAck, SMack, Smack, Smack («<echo.)) The sound is so loud, I would’ve mistaken it for a gunshot, had I not seen it happen in front of me. But after the echo dies down, all hell breaks loose, with Mog canon fire zooming at me, and BJ, from all sorts of directions. I duck down immediately, trying to avoid getting shot, and then crawl forwards as fast as I can, trying to make my way to BJ. When I get to her, she’s seething with rage, looking around frantically, probably for her next victim. In that instant, I realise that she’s a Loric, just like me, but I’m not sure what her number is, but guessing that Four was killed around nine months ago, and considering the number of Mogs that seem to be here, I’m assuming that she’s number Five.
"Hey! Are you number Five?!?" I yell over the hell that is the gunfire.
"Yes, you dunce!" She yells angrily, "and I’m going to make these fucking bastards pay for what they did to my home!"
"OUR home!" I say, thinking what our next move should be.
"Our?" She questions, "then, you’re Loric?"
"Yes!" I confirm, "now we just need to plan our next move…"
BJ then starts charging forward, putting plans clear from her mind, and just acting on instinct. I decide to follow her lead, quite literally, and turn into my most instinctive form, a boar like creature, almost the size of a small bus, with armour plates covering it’s skin, shining in the bright sun, prepared for battle.
………. Once the last shot is fired, I relax my entire body, turning back into my usual self and lying(?) down, waiting for Five to turn up. After a couple of minutes, she lies(?) down next to me with a sigh of relief. “Well, guess we’re both Loric then.”
"Yeah, guess so," I reply, "I’m Eight, just to let you know."
(Mod - And now we wait for the next part. Hope you guys are enjoying this, me and Five’s/BJ’s Mod (whichever one you want to use) have been discussing most of this over PM’s, except for this part, this one was mostly my own choice of events, and I hope BJ and her Mod like what I’ve done. Please let me know what you guys think of it, even if it’s “mean” criticism, I don’t care, I want to know what you guys think. Please give me tips and what not on this, I’m thinking of becoming an author later on in life, and this is where it starts, so I need as much feedback as I can get from people so I can improve my story writing skills. And FYI, Anon has been turned off for my ask, so I’ll know what you guys send me, and who sent it, and even if it’s mean criticism, it doesn’t matter, I’ll just read it if I want to or not.)
I couldn’t believe myself. Since when was I so talkative? I probably wasn’t thinking straight. Damn gunshot wound… She looked down at her shoulder as she walked around, trying to find other small first aid supplies. As I began explaining about the building, and how I was alone, I could slowly feel the wall around myself breaking down.
It hadn’t been a lie when I said I liked being alone. I couldn’t get others killed if I was alone. I remembered the boy I had traveled with for the past five years. I remembered his blue eyes and curly blonde hair. I remembered falling in love with him over the years… I remembered leaving in the middle of the night, realizing I didn’t want him to end up dead like the other people she had lost.
As the boy walked back outside, I pulled my shirt off to look at my shoulder. I took a wet rag and cleaned it off now dried blood. Pulling out the bullet was the fun part. I groaned and pulled it out quickly. I quickly began wrapping my shoulder in the old t-shirt. I grabbed my bag that was already packed and ready to go.
I climbed out the fire escape and jumped down, next to the boy. I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at his name. Damn. I sort of felt bad. What parent would name their kid John Joseph Jacobs? “Oh, right, I guess I’ll just go with the flow, and call you.. Joe.” I chuckled a bit, giving a lopsided smile. Might as well make the best of this.
I looked back at the building one last time before we started walking. “So long…” I mumbled. I turned back and ran a bit to catch up with Joe. “So,” I began. “Do you like Green Day?
………………………………………………………………………………………………….
It had been three days since I met and began traveling with this boy. He was something else alright. He was a real jokester, I had learned. He liked to kid around a lot.
I was kind of shocked that we found a gas station in the middle of nowhere. I panted softly as he said I could go inside real quick. This was training, in my mind. I needed to get used to this… As I walked inside, I looked around. I began shoving granola bars in my backpack. My brown eyes snapped to the counter, as I saw something move. I looked around, and grabbed a baseball bat.
Mogs. They found me. I swung hard, bashing its head in before it could see me. I let out a small yell of pain. The wound in my right shoulder opened up again… Damn it. I ran outside, remembering the boy who was with me now. I couldn’t let this kid die. Not on my watch.
I ran right past the boy, into the tall grass. I swung again as hard as I could. I wished I had my legacies, right about now. It would same me the pain from my shoulder. I looked around; not even bothered by the ash covering my shoes; which I usually would have been.
As I kept trying to fight off the Mogs, I tried to keep an eye on the boy. My eyebrows went up as he asked if I was number five. “Yes, you dunce!!” I yelled at him, before bashing in another Mogadorian skull. “And I’m going to make these fucking bastards pay for what they did to my home!” I yelled, narrowing my eyes at the rest of them. Honestly, I don’t remember what happen after that. My rage took over and I blacked out.
………………………………………………………………………………………………….
As I dropped down next to what I learned was number Eight, I groaned. I hadn’t had to fight like that in a long, long time. Training with those gangsters didn’t do anything compared to this. “Well, guess we’re both Loric, then.” I said.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He said. “I’m Eight, just to let you know.”
I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. I could almost hear the bombs again as they went off, all those years ago. The bombs that killed my family. The bombs that took my parent’s lives, along with my baby brother’s.
I got up slowly, looking around. “We can’t stay here. They’ll find us.” I held my hand out to him. “Do you know where the others are?” I asked.
(Mod- This is one of the best RP’s I’ve done, I swear. I hope others are enjoying reading this, and if you are, sorry about late updates. Eight’s Mod and I are in different time zones. J )
You can try to save all the dying people in this world, if you'd like. I'm not going to stop you. But I will let you know, you'll be the one dying in the end.
BJ
Mod- I really don't know why I like this quote so much, from BJ. It sort of ties into her background. I had used the line in many roleplays before, and I fell in love with it.
The girl glanced around at the group of gangsters. She twirled the wooden baseball bat around her fingers, grinning sadistically. She didn’t have her legacies. She had to train somehow. It wasn’t like her Cêpan was going to come back and help her train. He made that clear when he never let her…
BANG! I ducked instinctively as I hear the shot go off, thinking that it was aimed at me, but when I realise that it wasn’t for me since I don’t feel any pain, I decide to think logically, and go looking in alleys for anyone who may have been shot. After looking in four previous alleys, I finally find a girl sitting in the fifth alley, looking hurt. I approach her slowly, my instincts telling me to be careful, and when I realise she isn’t threatening, and that she’s bleeding, I decide to help her. “Hi there. Are you okay?” I ask. “Does it look like I’m okay?” She says in a sarcastic manner, whilst holding her bleeding arm. “Sorry, not use to helping people after they get shot. Can I help you?” “How did you know…? It doesn’t matter; if you can stop the bleeding, then yes, you can help me.” I help her up slowly, making sure I don’t increase the bleeding. “I have a place near by” she says as we get up. “How close?” I ask. “It’s on this block, it’s the abandoned apartment building.” She says, dropping off at the end, almost like she’s embarrassed of her “home”. ‘At least she has a home I think, jealously. I immediately regret being jealous, and remembering that she’s injured. “Oh, okay, is there medical stuff there that can help us?” I ask, hoping that she’ll accept my help until she’s better. “Well, there aren’t any bandages, if that’s what you’re asking, but there is stuff that can help stop the bleeding.” She grunts, angrily. “Oh, well, I guess that will have to do, unless you’d be willing to go to a hospital.” I say, almost asking. “No! Uuuuhhhh…….. no, I, um, don’t think that’s a good idea.” 'She said that a little fast I think. We start heading down to her place, sticking to the shadows so no-one else will see us, as we don’t want to be seen by any “unsavory” people.
((Because you used first person, I'm going to swap over to that as well. This way it isn't as confusing and stuff.))
I was still shocked that this boy offered to help me. Who was he? That didn't even seem to really matter at the moment. What mattered was why he cared enough to offer his help. 'Maybe he's just a nice person, BJ. Stop being so paranoid...!' I thought. I couldn't help but snap at him, or get defensive. I know I have very little social skills... I was used to just thinking things to myself; not talking to another person.
I kept walking towards the old building that was set for demolition soon. No one knew I was staying here; besides this boy. I shook my head frantically as he spoke of a hospital. "I don't like hospitals." I added on, calming, afterwards. I actually had never been inside a hospital before. I just knew it wouldn't be wise for an alien to sit there, and let them take blood tests.
I made sure to blend in with the shadows, when I could. That may have just been my paranoia, again, however. "Do you have a name?" I asked, turning into another ally way. I slowly climbed onto the dumpster, and grabbed the ladder with one arm. This would be fun. I grunted and began climbing up the ladder, slowly. I'd usually be up there by now. "I'm BJ." I said, letting out a hiss of air as I bumped my shoulder on the railing of the fire escape. I pushed the window open and jumped inside, looking around at the small place I was calling home.
I looked around quickly, making sure there wasn't anything out that shouldn't have been. My chest was in my zipped backpack, so that was fine. I walked over to a pile of clothes I meant to wash, and tore a small piece of it off. I kept doing it till the shirt was completely in shreds. "This is the best I have for band aids." I mumbled.
Closed Roleplay ~ The Wounded Warrior ~ Five and Eight.
The girl glanced around at the group of gangsters. She twirled the wooden baseball bat around her fingers, grinning sadistically. She didn’t have her legacies. She had to train somehow. It wasn’t like her Cêpan was going to come back and help her train. He made that clear when he never let her leave the house, or ever taught her how to blend in. All he did was drink all day, and leave her to sit around by herself. She was all alone. Things were much easier this way…
Punches were thrown, kicks were made, and the baseball bat connected with a lot of stomachs and legs. Only a few punches and kicks actually hit the girl; BJ. She could dodge most of them, easily. A few connected with her side, making her hiss slightly. She wasn’t as big as some of these guys were. Most of them were around six feet tall. She was around five foot eight ((68 in metric I believe.)) Her agility was far greater than any of theirs. She knew how to move, and try to avoid a blow. When she realized it was getting messy, and one man pulled out a gun, she had to leave.
She didn’t get away without a bullet to the arm. Wouldn’t be the first time she had been shot. She figured it wouldn’t be the last, either. She had a whole war to fight, and she was starting to think she was alone in it. Where were the others? Her dark, brown eyes were still wide as she dropped the baseball bat and fell to the ground. She groaned and winced in pain. This wasn’t part of the plan. Before any of them could touch her, she jumped up as quickly as she could and hurried off. What had she done? As she looked around, everyone was frozen; at a standstill. Was this a legacy? She had no clue. She hoped it was…
She sat down with a sigh, in the ally way between two buildings. She’d be safe here for now. She wiped the blood off one of her hands in the puddle that had formed during the rain the day before. Once she regained a bit of her strength, she could pull herself back up and go off towards the apartment she had been staying. She glanced around, just to make sure again no one was nearby. She wondered if anyone else saw the shot… Most likely they did. She had to get away from here as soon as possible. As she closed her eyes and tried to make the pain go away, she heard someone walking towards her. Her eyes snapped open, and stared at the boy. Her eyes were a bit cold, as she narrowed them. Why was he walking towards her? Was he with that gang? She was starting to wish she hadn’t dropped her baseball bat…
((Mod- Does this work for you? I added a bit more to it.))
I don’t know why but I started liking the idea of Eight’s birthday being April 4th and Marina’s birthday being May 20
oh and Maybe Ella’s birthday is September 7, Nine’s is August 13, John was born on July 16 and Six November 30
I have no idea why I think these dates would...
(( Mod- NINE AND I SHARE A BIRTHDAY IT'S MEANT TO BE.
Sorry I was fangirling way too hard. :3 ))
The girl glanced around at the group of gangsters. She twirled the wooden baseball bat around her fingers, grinning sadistically. She didn’t have her legacies. She had to train somehow. It wasn’t like her Cêpan was going to come back and help her train. She was all alone. Things were much…
Mod - I wanna call dibs on being in this story, but I feel like I have an unfair advantage with things like this cause I’m a day ahead of most people, so I’m going to wait until tomorrow, and if no-one else has called this, I’m totally doing it.
Can multiple people be in the story?
Mod- Yeah, if that's okay with everyone. Or I could just do two AU's. :)