"tiger trager"

NOTHING says getting the last fucking word like starting a fucking FIGHT tanner trager + 23 + badass

[rialovetts-blog]

“Right,” Ria let out a chuckle. “Why’s that hypocritical? I should find a new crew, if anyone around here was worth it?”

[tannertrxger-blog]

Tanner shrugged, half-heartedly and with just the one shoulder. He made a thoughtful sound through his teeth. “Maybe it’s the wrong word. You stick with a couple people for a long time, it’s different. Just letting that go ... I dunno, I wouldn’t do it.”

[rialovetts-blog]

“Yeah. The crew ain’t so exciting anymore. One of them has a kid so he leaves at like, nine every time we try to have a decent kickback.”

[tannertrxger-blog]

“Well, least you’re not the baby now, right. I’d tell you to get a new crew, but that’s kind of, I don’t know. Mildly hypocritical.”

[tannertrxger-blog]

seer, sleep, date, lust, KILL

Seer: An event with our characters in the past or future.

She was twelve and titless at the time, and he was loitering around Lil’s porch, waiting for her to get her shit together. Tanner had only two of the tattoos he would later have in abundance, and would become the measuring stick by which he sorted his memories, before the virgin and after the branches, etc and so on. He’d turned eighteen at the beginning of junior year, and he got the money from a gaggle of disreputable characters whose names he acquired by hanging around places after Oliver decided he was done with them.

She said, “Lilith’s a friend.”

At the time, he only nodded. “Yeah, sure,” Tanner said, indifferent to her.

“My name’s Margo.”

In his head, he heard it spelled Margot, like Margot Tenenbaum or Margot Frank.

“Yep,” Tanner said, wondering how to make a preteen take a fucking hint without looking like too much of an asshole. “Lil’s inside.”

“Okay,” she said, lingering under the threshold of a door that Tanner still felt nervous about crossing. “Thanks.”

Sleep: I’ll write a drabble of my character snuggling in bed with yours.

“Oh God–did you drop this?” said a girl’s distant voice, and she put the ketamine back into his clasping hand. “Wow.”

“Fuck,” Tanner murmured, and blinked until he remembered her name. It slipped away from him, like trying to catch a little fleeing mouse. The light of the bathroom was shaded with two other figures. “Fuck.”

Softer, she said, “You look pretty fucked up.” He couldn’t tell if she was sober or fucked up, too. She swayed, or maybe he did. She was whispering, but it was not because she wanted to help him.

“Yes,” he agreed. He put the ketamine in the pocket of the gray hoodie, slowly, and on the second attempt.

“So maybe you should go before Cole freaks the fuck out at you,” she suggested, not overly kind. It was the sort of voice that said I don’t want to deal with the fall out, here.

She herded him into a room he recognized as a guest bedroom, dimmed and closed off. Olly had locked the door, but Tanner had always been able to force them open. Drunk, it was only easier. Nothing stopped him. Fewer inhibitions than usual. Olly wouldn’t freak out about a broken door. “Jesus,” she said. She followed him in. He couldn’t have said why.

She took him by the elbow, and he caught a look at her face–her features swam for a half a minute before the waters stilled and he could see her clearly: a narrow face with small, tapered features. Her dark eyes flitted quickly from point to point, inviting him to chase down her secret thoughts; it made him feel sick and clumsy. She left his side for a moment to close the door that would not quite stay shut anymore. Tanner looked at the bed before he fell onto it. “You can go,” he said.

“Yeah, I could,” she agreed.

Tanner closed his eyes, and like a drunk ostrich, it was sort of like she wasn’t even there. He thrashed a few times, trying clumsily to reach and hold onto one of the stupid guest pillows. He was probably getting dirt from his boots on the coverlet. He opened his eyes only because he was spinning and sick in the pitch dark. The bed sank on the other side, and his stomach rolled as she scooted across the covers toward him. Her knee or thigh pressed into his back. He swallowed.

“Did you really mean it?” she asked him. “Do you love her?”

“Fuck you,” he said.

“Fuck you, too, I’m just wondering.” A pause. Tanner closed his eyes again. If he could, he’d just go to sleep. Fuck the party. Fuck it all. “Do you really love Lilith?”

“She told you.”

Something touched the curve of his ear, ran down along the edge. A fingernail rasped through the stubble along his jaw.

“Yeah,” the girl said, touching his cheek. She wiped her damp fingertips on the shoulder of his hoodie. She shifted again, her whole hip against the small of his back and the weight of her arms on his shoulder where she then rested her chin. The soft pressure of a body against his brought him such strange ease. “And I told her that it was kind of a dick move to leave you hanging like that.”

Date: I’ll write a drabble of my character taking yours out on a date.

Someone else had fallen through. This was why he took her to Neumos to suffer through one of her not-quite-mainstream oddball indie pop bands. She needed a car, a driver, and an older guy whose arm she could reliably twist into taking her. Tanner suspected that Margo had a well-stocked supply of such guys at her disposal, but took a really fucking special pleasure in operating the rack when he happened to be on it. Margo made her argument only one word long: Lil.

There was a tense moment when the security guy had eyed her fake I.D. with obvious skepticism, but Margo put on her bitey face and it made her look older and impatient with incompetence. The frontwoman had a deep, rolling voice and an unplaceable twang when she was not singing. Margo disappeared into a bathroom midway, and came out smelling a little bit like weed and another kind of perfume. Her lips were slick and shiny under the whirring, multicolored light. At no point did he try to kiss or dance with her himself, but when other guys tried approaching her Tanner made a point of glowering and putting his hand on her hip or the divot of her waist because fuck if he was going to let Margo drag him to Seattle so she could grind on some asshole in front of him, stuff she did in the bathroom excluded. She either allowed him to do this, or did not notice who he was.

The band turned out to be okay.

On the way back to the car, she was high and drunk enough that she looped her arm through his, and made him stop at an exorbitant street vendor to buy a hotdog that, in his opinion, had better make him fucking shit gold or something for what he paid for it.

“You going to walk me to the door?” she asked as she unclipped her seatbelt. Her pupils were huge; under her smearing mascara, the whites of her eyes were pink-shot. The night had not drained her energy–she seemed ready for something more, something else.

“You gonna kiss my dick good night if I do?” Tanner said in such a way that it could not fucking fail but to remind her of who she was talking to and what he thought about her.

The playfulness in her voice withered; the bright light behind her grinning face dimmed. “Fuck you,” she said, businesslike again, and she opened the car door without looking at him a second time.

“Fuck you, too, cunt,” Tanner muttered, wondering what the point of the night was if he had made it all this way just to get her mad at him again.

Lust: I’ll write a drabble of our characters making love together.

“Why not?” she asked over his shoulder. “You screwed Mia. You’d screw Lil if she let you.”

His hand was not quite on the door.

“Come on,” she said, hurling her insult at his retreating back; she knew how to make him whirl around and charge back at him. “You asshole. Washed-up townie. Douchebag. What the hell. What the hell.”

Her voice cracked under the weight of passion. Right there, he came across it, like a watch in the middle of an empty field. He pretty much knew what she thought of him, he had ears. Perhaps she thought he had no dignity; that he’d bone a chick who considered him to be slightly less worthy than the smear he’d leave on her thigh. And there, in the middle of it, the disbelief–the crushing fear that if not even Tanner would fuck her when she offered it to him, who else was gonna? The queen of unrequited feelings probably did not get laid a whole fucking lot.

“Why are you just standing there,” Margo said. He turned in time to see her swipe at her face with the sleeve of her dark jacket. “Did you change your fucking mind?”

“Yeah,” he said, and closed the distance between them in two or three long strides.

He hooked one arm around her waist and half-swept, half-dragged her to her couch. Tanner tossed her on her ass; she bounced a little as he threw one leg over her hips. They were both fully dressed still and he was not even close to aroused, but he caught the the hem of his hoodie and his t-shirt together and pulled them both over his head. He fell forward, balancing on his hands on either side of her face.

“This,” he told her. “Is what a pity fuck feels like.”

Margo’s hair had come out of its bun and fell into her mouth. She spat, trying hastily to remove it so that she could speak. One hand scrabbled at her lips while the other hovered just above her sternum, unable to decide if this counted as getting what she wanted or not. He had been cruel on purpose, but it was about pride.

“Do you still know what you’re fucking doing?”

Her tongue swept over her bottom lip. Her eyes were small, and dark, and too shiny to be as hard and cruel as she obviously would have preferred. It was almost like they shivered to look upon him, but Tanner knew perfectly well that it was only the unfallen tears pooling in the corners. This would be his second crying girl in as many months. New fucking record.

“Yeah,” she said. Her hands unfurled down his sides. She shoved her thumbs under the waistband of his jeans, and traveled downward. “Yeah.” 

There was precious little in the way of kissing, or tenderness, or even sex, not at first. The whole thing was grinding urges and seeing how much discomfort and displeasure the other could stand to bear until the whole idea of fucking each other was abandoned. Tanner would not give in, but neither would she. He could tell this by the way she gritted her teeth and latched her knees over his hips, and so he levered himself up. 

Margo took the hint and shimmied out of her jacket and her tank top–he helped her, a little, for expediency’s sake–and was surprised to see that her bra was a classy one, a black silk one with beads sewn on, glimmering like beetle wings. Tanner reached for the left–her right–cup. He traced the edge of it with his fingers, pressing the softness of her breast into the solid bulk of her ribcage. The difference between the forms had always been an exquisite one. He hated her so viciously that it had been possible to fucking unsee what it was that she offered to him. In reality, where people of lesser passions lived, Margo was a good-looking girl.

She fidgeted under his hand, unsure of this silence. “It’s Lil’s,” she explained. Margo pressed her lips together, which told him that she was going to say something like so you know our boobs are like the same size or whatever, but couldn’t make it sound cruel or clever. Or maybe I took it off her, but the specter of Lilith might well be scrutinizing her, too. 

Tanner swallowed, and reminded himself that he owed her nothing anymore. If she had ever really given a fuck about him, or really cared, he was going to throw it all away now, for good this time.

He bent his head and kissed Margo’s collarbone, under the dark splotch he had brought up on her neck just a moment before. He scooped a hand underneath her, into her leggings to pull them down far enough to get his fingers between her thighs. She shifted against his touch, looking for the same thing he was; when she was finally wet, he was finally hard. Her hands, which curled uncertainly around his sides, pressed hard into his flesh.

“So I’m a virgin,” she said all at once, going tense all over for about half a second while 

“Fucking Christ.” Tanner rested his head against her breastbone. “Of course you are.”

“I want you to use a condom this time, too,” she added.

Kill: I’ll write a angst drabble of my character violently killing yours.

Blood on the knuckles; he’d broken the fucked up finger on his left hand, again, on the knifey edge of her jaw. Hit it wrong. Also, her nose. Also, the struggle. Not so bitey as they both thought she’d be. Not with her teeth, anyway.

“It’s your fault,” she said. “God, it’s like you just say things!”

He thought, for some reason, that she’d be a tougher bitch than that. Eden survived poisoning. How was Tanner stronger than ketamine? It had been enough to imagine it, and then enough to do it. Was this murder or manslaughter? A history of violent behavior. He didn’t even feel nauseous. 

“And you don’t love her. You don’t love anybody, you’re just selfish,” she said, in echoes and reflections. 

He said sometimes, It’s like I’m outside myself watching. When he got into those rages. Outside, watching his hands.

“Like you expect her to just forgive that? She was going to tell everyone. God, Trager, you’re the reason.” A minute ago, or maybe an hour by now, Margo had been standing under her own power, running her mouth. 

Maybe she was used to something, a certain protection. Tanner really disliked hitting girls. There were reasons. He never felt as guilty as when he touched a girl with the wrong side of his hand, never as sick. 

Something inside must have bled. Or brain damage. There was a shallow indentation in her skull where her dark hair met skin. Discoloration prickled her skin but went nowhere. That time was done. Bottles did not break; Tanner had literally watched a man try, one night, at Jake’s, during an altercation. It was better just to hit them with the whole bottle. One had been nearby. She reached for it, too. His reach was longer.  For a while she’d been breathing still.

“Me,” she said, striking her chest, just over her heart. “Me. I’m the one who really loves her. The one who would do anything to protect her.”

i just gotta find the asshole that would resort to something like that. The last minutes inside his own brain, Tanner made all the right connections.

“You’re so fucking stupid, Trager,” Margo had said, her last real words.

He’d never been on the outside for so very fucking long. 

He reached for his phone, brushing their blood against his jeans. He dialed; he never needed contacts for Oliver. There was something about typing in the number that was like saying his name out loud.

“Hey, Stan,” Tanner said when Olly picked up on the other end. 

He exhaled. He steadied himself against the counter. Adrenaline. He didn’t feel sick. Just wild, maybe evil. Blood on the knuckles; he winced when he put pressure on his hand. Fucking Christ, that fucking finger. 

“So guess I just found out who spiked Eden.”

[rialovetts-blog]

“Uh, y’know, to go live life. Or jail. It’s pretty split now.”

[tannertrxger-blog]

“Yep, that’ll fucking do it.”

[rialovetts-blog]

“Nah, that’s what I get for being friends with 22 year olds when I was 16. Doesn’t matter, really. That’s life.”

[tannertrxger-blog]

He shrugged. “Where’d they all go?”

[tannertrxger-blog]

Haunt Me (Tanner as Casper the Friendly Ghost LMAO)

As a kid, Marie had told him a fairly ridiculous ghost story about a group of creepy phantom laundry ladies who called for the help of clueless passersby. “It’s a part of your cultural history,” she argued. Tanner regarded this as bullshit. The story went like, if you didn’t help them, they would wring you out like a sheet. How was this accomplished? Ten-year-old Tanner briefly imagined two semi-transparent ladies with huge arms picking him up, hands and feet, and twisting. Bones crunched, perforated skin, and turned to everything to bloody taffy. The spare nature of the fairy tale declawed the grotesqueness of the story. The image stuck with him to adulthood.

After he died, he found out that he was mostly right. The laundry ladies folded their victims up first, as it was more efficient.

The landscape of ghosts was not too dissimilar to that of the living. Tanner concluded early on that he was still drifting through the mortal plane because he was not yet done with something. It seemed likely. He had not died violently. He was not angry, which was new. Angry ghosts were usually women, and he let them do their monstrous thing on their own. There was a special brand of ghost where they were girls who’d been murdered by their lovers; another where they’d been abandoned by the father of their baby and actually somehow managed to die of grief; another weird and disturbing subset of girls who had been murdered by other, jealous girls. (He was glad Eden had not died at the party, as she’d be a vicious example to just pass off to those mean ghost bitches.) They let him be in kind. He hadn’t been murdered, and he wasn’t seeking revenge. Tanner made a point of visiting Ria to tell her so.

“Not your fault,” he said. He knew perfectly well she couldn’t hear him, but just in case it was forgiveness that was keeping him from wherever, he thought he might tell her. He kept at it. “You didn’t make me, I did.” 

Tanner had not yet come to grips with eternity. He could still feel the passing of time, though he needed neither food nor drink nor any of those earthly pleasures. He could still fucking miss them, and that was bullshit. Others did, too, and it drove ‘em kind of batty. There was also a weird sense that he had a time limit, attached to his ability to move on–he couldn’t get much out of the others, laundry ladies and otherwise. Ghosts as a whole were not super interested in each other. Because the second world–this was what he was calling it, because he needed to call it something–was not completely over-fucking-run with dead people, he supposed that eventually they went somewhere else. A third world, maybe.

For a few weeks, he amused himself by poltergeisting Cole, and then Jason. Watching them, though, day in and day out, waiting for the necessary perfect moment where he could prod at the veil and make them drop something, or shout boo at them (he thought it must sound like a whisper or a hiss or the creak of a stair, from the way they reacted) depressed him a little bit. He let them be. He watched Cole be happy with Daph, because it was less awful. Watching the living be happy was fucking great compared to the alternative.

Tanner watched over Lil as a matter of course. She took his dying on her hard, especially since the news and the police were hardpressed to call it a suicide or an accident. He regretted being so dramatic the last time they’d talked, and he did not take much pleasure in her grief for him. Her caring for him, really caring in the end, did nothing for Tanner the dead man except make him miserable, a sort of reverse-mourning that was almost intolerable. Listening to her tearful confessions to his corpse, and later, his grave, fucking sucked, and he prayed sometimes that the place in her heart that he’d always wished for as a living man would turn to fucking stone.

And since ghosts could not drive cars or hold back hair or turn even small women onto their sides, he had to enlist other ways to watch over her. He rattled Margo’s windows when he wanted her to fucking call the woman she had the gall to name as her best fucking friend, and shouted Lilith’s name in her ear. Sometimes it took. Sometimes she went clubbing.

After Lilith was Olly. Tanner was posthumously found guilty of spiking Eden–which would have officially been charged as attempted voluntary manslaughter–which accorded nicely with the theory that he’d O.D.’d on fucking purpose because of that guilt and a fear of going back to jail. The whole thing collapsed in on itself.

Tanner found the whole thing pretty fucking agreeable, so he did not think this was why he remained. He could still be useful to Oliver, even dead. He was still a shield for him, and for once he’d been able to save him instead of the other way around. He’d probably do it even if he’d been alive. He was not looking to reveal the truth; so what was it?

He looked in on Oliver one night. It was early in the summer, late in June. Maybe that had some effect on his presence, for he felt a bit more solid. He could touch vases and glasses and trays and the TV remote if he wanted, though operating these objects was onerous. He could almost touch Oliver, too. A static barrier prickled about an inch from a living body, and prevented Tanner from putting his hand on Olly’s shoulder, but tonight, he could push down a little further. Olly even turned his head.

Tanner used doors (and windows) like he had when he was living, though he had to wait for someone else to open them. The horror of accidentally being trapped was not lost on him, and a huge quantity of creepy hotel room stories suddenly chilled him to his bloodless spine. But someone always went in and out of the Stanton house, and it was just a matter of waiting. Usually it was Olly’s mother or father or the house cleaner, and he slipped away untroubled.

This time it was Amelia, who must be just coming home from her college far from Chester and far out of the range that Tanner roamed. She dropped her keys into her purse, head down and struggling with her roller luggage over the threshold. Tanner jumped up to his feet from the couch and took three long strides, prepared to weave through her steps as was necessary.

“Could you hold this?” she said, sensing movement. She held up a condensing plastic Starbucks cup. 

“What?” Tanner said. He brought up his hands as an instinctual barrier–he’d not been dead for that long, after all, to forget his mortal habits–and brushed her wrist as she stuck the frappucchino in his fucking face. 

Her skin was solid enough, and scalded him like running his freezing hands under the faucet on the highest setting: painful, and then comforting as heat worked its way back into his joints. The opposite was apparently true for her: she yelped, jumped back, swore, and then stared him full in the face.

“Oh my God,” she uttered in perfect terror. “Oh my God.”

“The fuck,” Tanner said. He put his other hand over where she’d brushed him, felt its heat dissipate under his fingers. He began to understand. “The fuck. Why you?”

[ameliastanton]

Join Me!

WORD COUNT: >500CHARACTER(S) INCLUDED: Oliver Stanton (mentioned)SUMMARY: A few weeks after her brother is found guilty of drugging Eden, Amelia asks Tanner to come with her to visit Oliver in jail.TRIGGERS: Alcohol.NOTES: The prompt is, “I’ll write a drabble about my character giving your character an offer [be it a proposal for an alliance, asking them to join them in an activity (you can get dirty if you want), feel free to specify.]” This is a Future AU.

Keep reading

[tannertrxger-blog]

ღ (THE STRIPPER STORY PLZ)

Send ღ for a drabble about a romance/their love life

The name she gave him the night they met was Cherry, but the great state of Washington called her Cục Agnes Than, and she had a lot of wit to wax over both her names. She was funny and cruel at once, and she taught him to be that way, too. Her tongue had a sharp silver edge that Tanner liked to see in action. Cherry could cut someone to shreds if she was careless. She was not like any of the girlfriends he had ever had. Nicola, before her, was innocence; Delia, after her, was wisdom. Cherry was the difference.

The first lame joke people liked to make was I bet he was your favorite customer. Tanner always let her tell the real story because it sounded less fake when she recounted it for people: one night after midnight, some of us were like, okay, let’s go with these guys someplace. And they were all douches, bro-y douches, but they seemed okay enough, and they were buying, so okay, let’s go to this town just outside Tacoma. I know! Tacoma. They’re in with some big crowd. In Tacoma. On a Thursday. So okay.

But everything’s closed down and that sucks except there’s supposed to be this party. So we go there. Fancy house. I like it. And, like, one them he says hey to the man in charge, and the other goes with Siena to the bar, and everything’s good for, like, a college house party or whatever. They even have one of those poles, you know, the portable ones. So I get on one and I do my thing. And Siena does her thing, and we’re getting a crowd, and I go back up. And when I do, it–she swiped her hands together quickly–like that. Just like that.

Suddenly, there’s this guy. And he’s got me and he’s like, Jesus fuck, did you just fall?

Cherry would pause at this point in the retelling. She’d throw her arm around him, or if she could reach, kiss the side of his nose, which was a habit particular to her. If she was outside, she’d have him light her cigarette.

This guy, she’d say. Like even he didn’t even know what just happened. Caught me anyway.

You were that fucking hot. 

It was so very out of a fucking fairy tale that he ignored a lot of the other shit that went down in the eight months that composed their relationship. The division went: 40% good. 50% weird and uncertain cycle of suspicion, accusation, consolation, and reconciliation. 10% bitter betrayal. She was the first girl he ever dated under 5′6″; the first girl who was older than him, twenty-five to his twenty; she was the first girl who cheated on him and the first girl that he left.

We’re not married, she had said in order to defend herself. You don’t pay my bills.

I only asked for one fucking thing, Tanner had said. He shook with his rage. He could only think: Lil had been right. He’d ignored her and she’d been right. Tan, that’s not a girl who really cares about anyone–you know? Lilith hadn’t liked Nic, either.

God, you’re just such a fucking baby about this stuff, Cherry said. He remembered her last words to him in stark clarity. Later, he looked back on the exchange and realized that she had been fucking afraid, because she was so small and he was angry and strong, and she knew, because he’d told her, one night, cooling off after sex–

Sometimes I just fucking lose my shit. Anything to prove shit. I can’t, it’s like, I can’t stop …

The other guy she’d been with was someone from her school. They’d both been proud of her education. Going for her doctorate. One day, he would walk into a RiteAid and she’d be there in a white coat. He, in his naivete, used to joke about it. Her parents had no idea. She loved that punchline so well.

But in the end all anyone really remembered was that she had been a stripper. Tanner did not mind. He maligned her himself, afterward, when he mentioned her, if he mentioned her. He did not object to Oliver’s making things hard for her. He helped, even, when it was convenient for him and painless. He did not talk about the guy from her school, or the things she had said, or their problems, his hopes or her actions. When he mentioned her at all, it was in this context:

Yeah, I’ll never date a fucking stripper again.

[tannertrxger-blog]

$, ★, ❄

$: Our characters will go Christmas shopping together

“Christmas,” Tanner said emphatically. “Is bullshit.”

“You cannot just pull out the Jewish card because you don’t want to spend money,” Amelia countered, utterly devoid of sympathy. She picked up a reindeer ornament and matched it to a greeting card. Tanner saw immediately her plan: tape the ornament to the card. Give the card. Boom, under five-dollar-present. 

He threw up his hands. The ratty knit glove on one hand was slowly unraveling. “Jesus fuck. Do you fucking listen to yourself talk? Did you hear what you just said there?” 

“There! You use the name of Jesus Christ in vain, like, constantly. You’re Christian enough for Christmas.”

“Yeah, but I am blaming him for shit. I am a fucking cognizant blasphemer.”

She glared at him. Probably, he thought, for the use of a ten-dollar word when he was refusing to spend five.

“It means I know what I’m fucking doing,” he said, maybe too defensively. 

“Uh-huh,” Amelia said, undeterred. She gave him both the reindeer and the tacky box of reindeer greeting cards. “Put this in the basket.”

★: Our characters will decorate the tree

“Still bullshit,” Tanner muttered, balls deep in fucking tinsel. He was on his knees, sorting through a box that lived in the Stanton attic for eleven months out of the year. It smelled like mothballs, insecticide from a probable wasp-infestation, and spicy-stale scent of fermented holiday. 

“Still doing it,” Amelia reminded him from the other side of the tree that she had found and he had hauled away on the top of an Accord that really didn’t jive with the weight of an enormous fucking Christmas tree. “You know, because you kind of owe it to me. I’m not doing this alone.”

“Do you want this end?” Tanner asked, choosing to selectively ignore her cattiness. If he knocked over the tree and left, he would only have to come back and set it upright again later. He nudged the extension part of the Christmas light cord toward her. She reached. He nudged it closer. 

“Yes,” she said, plugging it in. 

Lit up, the tree looked kinda pretty. “When does Oliver get back?” Tanner asked.

“My family gets home tomorrow,”  Amelia said. He flinched a little. The word family had a point on it that he didn’t care for. “Your boyfriend gets home the day after. So you have plenty of time to get him a better present.”

“Nah,” Tanner said, a bit evasively. “He’ll know what it is.”

“Weird,” Amelia said.

❄ : drunk texts

TEXT: AMELIA STANTON TIME: 3:30:20

hey thanks for the eggnog you forgot the fucking RUM but thats okay i got you there

TEXT: AMELIA STANTON TIME: 3:45:12

olly got you something really cool so how about you practice your fucking GRATEFUL face im serious here its really fucking thoughtful

TEXT: AMELIA STANTON TIME: 4:00:59

dont read too much into this but what do you want 

TEXT: AMELIA STANTON TIME: 4:01:20

gift wise

TEXT: AMELIA STANTON TIME: 4:01:20

from me not olly so keep your expectations real fucking LOW

[rialovetts-blog]

“Yeah, well, my ‘usual’ crowd isn’t really a crowd anymore. Besides, that was a while back.”

[tannertrxger-blog]

“Ah. That’s shitty.”

[rpmissionboard]

Master Post of ALL Drabbles (thanks to mistresslokilaufeyson)

(Thanks go out to mistresslokilaufeyson)

Scream: My character has caused yours to scream out for some reason Headache: How my character will take care of yours when they have a headache Expecting: Our characters find out they are expecting a child together Milkshake: Our characters will have to split a milkshake Coffee: My character will be hyped up on coffee and pester yours Graveyard: My character will visit your characters grave Spectre: My character will be visited by your character’s ghost or vice versa Bleed: My character will injure your character Dream: My character will have a dream about your character Busted: Your character will catch mine doing something they shouldn’t.

O Romeo: I will write my character missing/looking for yours.  O Juliet: I will write about my character’s feelings for yours.  O Macbeth: I will write about how my character kills yours.  O Hero: I will write about my character mourning yours.  O Puck: I will write about my character pranking yours.  O Titiana: I will write about our characters sharing a night in bed or sharing a kiss. Specify.  O Oberon: I’ll write about my character getting angry at yours over something they did. Amuse Me: I will write a funny drabble about my character trying to cheer yours up. Break Me: I will write an angsty drabble about our characters. Call Me: I will write a drabble about my character asking for yours [be it at the brink of death/in a battlefield/knocking on the front door wounded, feel free to specify.] Drink Me: I will write a drabble about my character taking shots with yours. Enamor Me: I will write a fluffy drabble about my character trying to woo yours [be it out of the blue/Valentines Day,feel free to specify.] Fight Me: I will write a drabble out my character fighting with/or against yours. Get Me: I will write a drabble about my character saving yours. Haunt Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character watching over yours [as a ghost, watching from a distance, or otherwise, feel free to specify.] Invite Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character asking your character to Join Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character giving your character an offer [be it a proposal for an alliance, asking them to join them in an activity (you can get dirty if you want), feel free to specify.] Kill Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character killing yours. Love Me: I’ll write a fluffy drabble about our characters. Mourn Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character mourning your character’s death. Nurse Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character healing yours. Offer Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character giving yours a gift. Paint Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character drawing a picture of yours [like one of your french girls~ be it painting them or drawing them, maybe offering a picture of them as a gift, feel free to specify.] Quite Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to calm yours down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.] Remember Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to get yours to remember them [be it from an accident, meeting them after years apart, feel free to specify.] Shag Me: I’ll write a dirty drabble about our characters. Tell Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character confessing something to yours [be it a love confession, a secret, feel free to specify.] Unbind Me: I’ll write a drabble about your character freeing mine, or the other way around, or something among the lines [be it freeing them from jail, from handcuffs, from a trap, from a curse, feel free to specify.] Value Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character telling yours how they feel about them. Wed Me: I’ll write a drabble about our character under the subject of wedlock [be it my character proposing to yours, or marrying yours, feel free to specify.] X Me: I will write whatever it is that you wish, [specify.] Yahoo Me: I’ll write a drabble about our characters celebrating something [feel free to specify.] Zip Me: I’ll write a drabble about your character dressing mine, or the other way around [this can also be used for shutting them up as well, but feel free to specify.]

Torture Me: I’ll write a drabble about your character torturing mine or vise versa. Take Me: my character will kidnap yours Leave Me: my character will leave your character behind. Deny Me: my character will either deny your character’s advances or deny them a ’ happy ending’ Grope Me: my character will grope yours. Lick Me: my character will lick yours in any specified place or manner. Suck Me: my character will suck on any body part of your character Tease Me: my character will tease yours, whether in a friendly or a sexual manner Please Me: my character will do anything to please yours Bite Me: my character will bite yours on any part of their body Blindfold Me: my character will blindfold yours in order to have their fun Meet Me: My character is meeting yours either for the first time or just causally. Greet Me: My character will greet yours, either at the door, at work, or somewhere else. Own me: My character owns your character. Slap me: my character will slap yours. In the sexual manner, or of anger. specify. Call Me: My character will call your character for whatever reason. Hug Me: My character will hug yours. Either by surprise or for a specific reason. Give Me: my character will give yours a gift Tickle Me: my character will tickle yours ruthlessly. 

Sleep: My character needs to stay at your character’s house for the night, or vise versa. Specify. (you can add any other special things that could happen!) Drink: My character will call, text, or show up at your character’s house drunk. Specify which of the three. Heal: My character will tend to your character’s wounds, or be at their side when they’re sick. Confess: My character will speak their true feelings about your character. (or about a topic. you may choose.) Death: My character’s reaction to your character dying. Time: My character is running late! They are supposed to meet your character at _____ (fill in the blank) or vise versa. Specify. Protect: My character keeps yours safe from harm. Kiss: My character kisses yours, or vise versa. Specify. Dream: My character wakes up in the middle of the night because of a dream with your character in it. Run!: My character is chasing your character (or vise versa) OR both characters are being chased by ___________ (fill in the blank). Sky: Our characters are stargazing. Help: My character requests help from your character (be something silly or serious, you may decide.) Gift: My character gives your character something special. Or vise versa. Specify. I Do: I will write our characters as a married couple Broken: I’ll write our characters breaking up or in an angsty scene.

« : memory from the past with your character » : a future event my character would like to happen with them + yours [a daydream] ¿ : something my character would like to forget [specify in general or about yours] ☼ : A memory my character has with yours that they’ll never forget ♥: Our characters will have a Mistletoe Kiss ★: Our characters will decorate the tree ¤: My character will give yours a present ❖: Our characters will go caroling $: Our characters will go Christmas shopping together ❂: Our characters decorate eggs together †: My character will have an egg hunt with yours ღ: My character will give yours chocolate ❦: My character will admit she/he loves your character ✯: Our characters will go see fireworks together ♬: Our characters will go to a parade ッ: Our characters will go to a costume ball together ☾: Our characters will go trick or treating ♛: Our characters will wear matching costumes ❄ : drunk texts 

Cerberus: Our characters raising a little hell together Centaur: My character showing yours compassion Harpies: Our characters getting into an argument Sphinx: My character asking yours a hard question Furies: One of our characters causing the other pain Phoenix: One of our characters helping the other to rise above a bad situation Dragon: My character guarding yours Aerico: One of out characters nursing the other back to good health Mermaid: Our characters going swimming together Alicorn: Our characters doing something they thought was impossible together Unicorn: Our characters creating magic (real or imagined) Pegasus: Our characters fantasising together Banshee: My character will mourn the death of yours Bugul Noz: Our characters committing an act of charity together Hiisi: Our characters camping out under the stars Brownie: Our characters doing housework together Faerie: Our characters causing mischief together Jujak: One of our characters helping the other prepare for a special occasion Lorelei: My character will take yours somewhere involving music Hallucinations: My character will have hallucinations about your character. Candle: Our characters spending time together by candle light. Rain: I’ll write a fluffy drabble of our characters kissing in the rain.  Kill: I’ll write a angst drabble of my character violently killing yours.  Love: I’ll write a drabble of my character admitting they love yours. Lust: I’ll write a drabble of our characters making love together. Date: I’ll write a drabble of my character taking yours out on a date.  Defend: I’ll write a drabble of my character protecting yours. Fight: I’ll write a drabble of my character fighting with/against yours. Death: I’ll write a drabble of my character with yours on their deathbed. Mourn: I’ll write a drabble of my character mourning yours. Pet: I’ll write a drabble of my character buying yours a pet. (specify what kind.) Wash: I’ll write a drabble of our characters showering/bathing together. Pool: I’ll write a drabble of our characters swimming together. Beach: I’ll write a drabble of out characters at the beach together. Sing: I’ll write a drabble of my character singing to yours. Snow: I’ll write a drabble of our characters building a snowman together. Game: I’ll write a drabble of my character playing videogames with yours. Movie: I’ll write a drabble of our characters watching a movie together. Shop: I’ll write a drabble of my character taking yours shopping. Cook: I’ll write a drabble of our characters cooking together. Sleep: I’ll write a drabble of my character snuggling in bed with yours. Rivalry: I’ll write a drabble of our characters having a rivalry between each other. Obsession: I’ll write a drabble about my character having an obsession with yours. Vise versa. Proposal : My character proposes to your character. Vise versa Celebration: Our characters celebrate together. Or have a party. Secret: My character tells your character a secret. Promise: My character makes a promise to your character. 

Princess: Your character gaining everything they wanted thanks to mine or vise versa. (Be specific on who gets which role) Servant: My/your serving yours/mine, no matter what. (Be specific on who gets which role) Knight: My/your character defending the other. (Be specific on who gets which role) Mercenary: My character getting payed for a favor of yours. Seer: An event with our characters in the past or future. Songstress: My/your character preforming, whether it is in front of an audience or just for your/my character. (Be specific on who gets which role and whether is private or public) Magi: My/your character having a spell put on them and your/my character’s reaction. (Be specific on who gets which role and what spell you want cast) Archer: My/your character setting a long-distance goal and aims to achieve it with your/my character’s help. (Be specific on who gets which role and what goal it is) Thief: My/your character has stolen something from yours/mine and plans to escape with said item. (Be specific on who gets which role) Healer: My/your character helping your/my character when they are hurt/sick. (Be specific on who gets which role, and whether the pain is physical, emotional, or just having to catch a fever) Spirit: My/your character watching over your/my character. (Be specific on who gets which role) Summoner: My/your character calling for yours/mine. (Be specific on who gets which role and what kind of situation.) Fool: My character cheering up or amusing yours or vise versa. (Be specific on who gets which role)

[margoflamel-blog]

Usually, yeah, but she’s been a little radio silent lately. Are you sure she’s not on vacation with her family, or something?

[tannertrxger-blog]

Well, fuck. That’s what I’m asking you.

[margoflamel-blog]

I haven’t seen Lil in, like, two weeks. I was away. What did you do?

[tannertrxger-blog]

Nothing. We talked. Doesn’t she text you like a thousand word essay a day or something?

[lycannalla]

Peek into my character's past!

[tannertrxger-blog]

Send me a…

— 〆 for a childhood story — ღ for a drabble about a romance/their love life — ⌆ for a story about their family/home life — € for a bad memory that still haunts them — ✢ for a good memory that makes them smile

Or…

Send me a name/place/event or situation from my character’s past and they will just talk about that one thing.

[margoflamel-blog]

Excuse me?

[tannertrxger-blog]

Lil. Lilith. Is she doing alright? Because she showed up at my house, drunk as shit, and then stopped answering when I call her. 

[rialovetts-blog]

“No no no, God, not on that night. But on many others…”

[tannertrxger-blog]

“Damn, I had no idea. That’s not too surprising, maybe, our crowds don’t tend to coincide all that fucking often.” 

[rialovetts-blog]

“Yeah, I can’t imagine anyone would want to watch me do anything, honestly. I’m lowkey as possible. Unless I’m kissing someone or getting in a fight, I guess.”

[tannertrxger-blog]

“It was you in that fight, too? Shit, Olly told me it was him.”