fifty five hi's

PruAus Week 2016 ~ Uniforms

They’re dressed for a game which took place September 2nd, 2011, where in Austria’s hopes and dreams of qualifying for the 2012 UEFA European Championship were dashed straight to Hell thanks to Germany.

I imagine Austria is a bit of a sulker once losing. Meanwhile, Prussia is bouncing around, expecting a hug and some praise like Old Fritz used to give him.

I’m sure these two always find a way to make up later…

Fifty-five a**hole, fifty-five!

So I was heading to work one morning around 10:00. My city has an interstate that circles the perimeter and in a lot of curvy, hilly places the speed limit is 55, and rabidly patrolled by the police.

I was going up a long hill around a corner, not much traffic around me when this loud, jacked up pick-up truck comes up behind me. He has plenty of room to go around (it’s like 5 lanes wide, for f*ck’s sake, and I’m in the center lane), but I’m only doing like fifty miles an hour, and I guess he didn’t like it.

Of course, I slow down a little more just to be a d*ck and he finally roars up beside me and honks his horn. I see him flash “fifty-five!” with his hand and then he flips me a bird and blows by me.

About that time we crest the hill, and you guessed it, Karma must have had a hard-on for reckneck d*ckheads that day, as a state trooper pulled out behind him with the lights on. If I had to guess, he was doing about 70 in a 55, and had just honked and road-raged at me, which I hoped the cop had seen.

As he slowed down and moved to the right I passed him on the left, still doing about 50-ish. We made eye contact and I just smiled and flashed “fifty-five” with my hand and mouthed the words “fifty-five, a**hole, fifty-five”. Petty revenge, motherf*cker, petty revenge.

Petty Revenge: Internet`s best petty revenge stories are here. | credit

An unusually handsome man, he has been painted with brush and pen a hundred times, but yet there is always something to say of that noble, unostentatious figure, the perfect poise of head and shoulders and limbs, the strength that lay hidden and the activity that his fifty-five years could not repress. Withal graceful and easy, he was approachable by all; gave attention to all in the simplest manner. His eyes—sad eyes! the saddest it seems to me of all men's—beaming the highest intelligence and with unvarying kindliness, yet with command so firmly set that all knew him for the unquestioned chief. He loved horses and had good ones, and rode carefully and safely, but I never liked his seat. The General was always well dressed in gray sack-coat of Confederate cloth, matching trousers tuck into well-fitting riding-boots—the simplest emblems of his rank appearing, and a good, large black felt army hat completed the attire of our commander. He rarely wore his sword, but his binoculars were always at hand. Fond of the company of ladies, he had a good memory for pretty girls. His white teeth and winning smile were irresistible. While in Savannah and calling on my father, one of my sisters sang for him. Afterwards, in Virginia, almost as soon as he saw me he asked after his ‘little singing-bird.’
—  Gilbert Moxley Sorrel’s description of Robert E. Lee in his memoir, Recollections of a Confederate Staff Officer
The Endangered Ones

Welcome to my final reverb, based on the amazing art and concept created by @piercelovewonton. Thank you to @lunar-resonance @ilarual, along with my artist, @piercelovewonton for looking over the whole thing, to @makapedia and @sahdah for looking at the earlier chapters, and to @bendandcurl for making some very important early suggestions. I appreciate all of you. This wouldn’t be the same without you.

Please, please check out the art by @piercelovewonton found here. There is a second set of art that contains spoilers for the fic you can find here. All of the art really is spectacular. I am so amazed.

Word Count: 20K

Pairings: Soul x Maka

Ratings: R/MA/NSFW

Warnings: Semi-explicit sexual content and graphic violence.

Read on AO3 or FFN.

It’s mid-shift and the cafe is packed to the rafters as it usually is in the afternoon. Already tired from a grueling morning of midterms, Maka would love to take her break. It’s so crowded, though, that they need her on register, so she greets the next customer in line, barely able to keep the plastic smile on her lips.

“Welcome to DC Cafe, can I help you?”


She’s so used to orders being barked at her by busy business people and frazzled college students that the hesitation gives her pause. She looks at the guy in front of her, really looks, and notices startling red eyes beneath a shock of somewhat messy white hair that he runs his hand through almost nervously, his eyes darting between the counter and the rest of the room.

“You want coffee?” she prods helpfully.

“Yeah.” He scratches at the back of his neck, and Maka uses his averted gaze as a chance to inspect him more closely. He just seems so familiar somehow. Though she’s sure she’s never seen him before–she’d definitely remember a guy with white hair and red eyes–she still feels like she should recognize him. It’s strange, and she’s not quite sure what to make of him as he looks up at the menu like he’s trying to read Attic Greek.

“Tall–house blend–cream and sugar, maybe?” she helpfully supplies the most common order.

“Uh, no.” He squints up at the board, eliciting a chorus of huffs and groans from the line behind him. “Americano. Gigante, I guess. Thanks.”

“Oh-kaaaaaay. Name?”


“Seriously?” Maka scoffs, unable to stop herself. She’s seen a lot of ridiculousness in the name department in her time at the the cafe–Jack Hoff, Fah Que, Mike Hunt, the list is long–but this is a new one.

“As a heart attack.” He meets her gaze for the first time and holds it and she feels–something. Something warm and strange in her chest that she wants to stifle and let die, that she wants to fan and make burn bright, that she just doesn’t understand.

Tearing her eyes away to the register, she forces out, “That’ll be five-fifty.”

“Seriously?” It’s his turn to scoff.

“As the zombie apocalypse.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he hands over a ten. “Pfft, you’re terrible at this.” His voice is deep but warm, and she likes the way it rumbles through her even from a few feet away, the way she can practically feel it in her bones. It still seems so much like she knows him from somewhere, his face, his voice, but she doesn’t, and it’s nagging at her like an itch she can’t quite scratch.

“You can pick up your drink at the other side of the counter–have a nice day!” Maka calls out to his back with forced cheer as he makes his way to the pick up area. She tries to track where he goes, but it’s so busy that she loses sight of him as she helps other customers until she finally gives up and forgets what had been so interesting about him to begin with.

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ok but let’s talk about gansey ordering avocado pizza

  • about how that fuckin nerd orders AVOCADO pizza
  • he gets the avocado for himself bc ronan is like “what the fuck i’m not eating that shit” so that’s why the other half is sausage
  • can you imagine how much they hate him at nino’s? “WE GOT THAT DOUCHE ORDERING AVOCADO PIZZA AGAIN.“ 
  • collective groan in the kitchen. 
  • blue considers spitting in the mariana sauce. 
  • half the time when they make it they get so angry because how the fuck do you get that seed out it keeps slipping out of my hand? 
  • so there’s like four avocados rolling around on the floor and half the employees have green smears all over their aprons because "NO LET ME DO IT” and “USE A SPOON YOU IDIOT." 
  • the kitchen is a disaster and blue ends up seething and covered in sticky sweet tea and it’s all gansey’s fault. 
  • when a very angry waitress brings it out to him and charges a delivery fee even though he’s picking it up, he wonders why his pizza is so expensive because he knows avocados are still in season? 
  • donny doesn’t protest when the staff split his fifty five ways. 
  • they won’t give blue a dime because they knows that’s HER friend and WHY because he wears TOPSIDERS for fuck’s sake

Day 29: Growling Old Together

“Do you remember all those years ago when you told me we’ll be together until the day you’ll die?”


“I-I never thought you’ll be serious about it…” Hinata, for a moment, stopped to cough and she reached for her medicine, her wrinkled hands catching her attention. She retreats her arm and looked down on her hand, which had become so worn out over the years.

Naruto gazes at her and he follows her line of direction. His eyes softened and he squeezed the hand he was holding. He didn’t have much strength left—he was around his 80’s after all—but for Hinata, who was his wife for more than twenty years and who became the love of his life, he’ll do anything for her. He knew how much their age worn down Hinata and he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why. He loved her still, like he did when he was nineteen or when he was thirty or forty five or sixty six. It didn’t matter what age they were in, he still believes she is the most beautiful woman in the planet.

“Hina…” His other unoccupied hand caressed her wrinkled cheek and tucked a strand of indigo with white streaks behind her ear. Her droopy eyes tendered and she pressed closer to the palm of her husband, of her love, of her life.

“Hai, Naruto?” Her voice was no longer smooth like she was young but it still held that tenderness that melts his heart.

“You’re so beautiful.” Even after these years, he can still make her blush.

“D-Do you really think so?” She shyly glanced at the ground. She felt her hand get squeezed and she gazed into deep blue eyes that still look so alive like when he was younger. His face carried wrinkles and his blond hair was barley shown because of his white streaks, but she still ran her hands over his hair and she cuddles with him like no tomorrow. Her love, even at this point, still proves to be strong. But ever since she first saw the signs of aging, she worried Naruto might leave her because she will no longer look so beautiful. But she was wrong.

“I know so, Hina. Why do you doubt yourself?” Many years living together and in love comes with benefits. There were no lies or mistrust. There was only love and understanding.

“L-Look at me. I’m so old…”

He chuckled and his wrinkled hands racked over his short—nearly gone—hair. “I am looking at you. You’re beautiful like the first time we shared our first kiss…” He wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed a sound so deeply rich that he had to take a moment to just look at her and take it all in. As he aged, he grew more afraid of Death. Not necessarily for him, but fear of Hinata dying before him. But while that thought wasn’t always in his mind, he also experienced a sense of calamity and started to appreciate the things around him even more. He began to soak in every minute he had of his Hinata and he couldn’t help the tears that escaped his eyes when he realized that he had shared his life with someone who loves him. He found someone to love and that someone loved him back even more. He created a family and continued the legacy of his heritage. He achieved the greatest dream he ever dreamt of, bigger than being Hokage: he created a family and found someone to love.

“N-Naruto, what’s wrong? Do you need your medicine?” Hinata reached for her cane but he stopped her. He kissed her wrinkly, old hands and kissed her nose. She was so beautiful. He kissed her lips and he relished in her touch. He loves her so much.

“I-I love you.” Being old makes you emotional…well that was his excuse.

“I love you too.” And she understood him because she, too, became overridden with tears at times with a simple glance of her husband. How she lived so far in life and she never regrets a single moment.

He kissed her once more before the door to their small house opened.

“Ew, gross. Kids don’t come in here because your grandparents are kissing!” yelled a fifty five year old Boruto, his facial expression eerily familiar to Naruto’s.

“Nii-san, don’t say that! They were sharing a moment!” scolded a fifty year old Himawari, who grew to be as beautiful as her mother.

Naruto and Hinata shared a look before standing up with shaky legs. Naruto supported Hinata who leaned against a cane. But they were both smiling, their eyes crinkled in happiness.

The next few days they were found in their bed, snuggled close together with smiles on their face with no heart beat. Their hands were interlocked and their foreheads were touching, their wedding rings glistening when the sun hit them.

Follow My Voice - Chapter 4

AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chris doesn’t realize he does it, but he walks aimlessly downtown for nearly an hour.  Once he figures out where he is, he makes a left, left, right and then he’s standing in Battery Park, allowing memories of the past flood his brain.  He smiles to himself, brushes a single tear off his cheek.

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Counting Heartbeats

Jily AU Week, Day 2 | Survival AU/ Muggle AU
To separate them is unthinkable, but what happens when the unthinkable becomes reality.
Beta: the wonderful nonthinkingbrain | (

Shaufa didn’t want anyone to die, so I killed off someone.

Trigger Warning: Depression, Self-harm

Music starts playin’ like the end of a sad movie,
It’s the kinda ending you don’t really wanna see.
It’s the kind of ending you really don’t want to see
Cause it’s tragedy and it’ll only bring you down
Now I don’t know what to be without you around
And I can’t breathe without you
But I have to.

-Breathe (Taylor Swift)

The battle was dirty and rough. Mud underfoot made things complicated. James slipped and slid across the ground, throwing spell after spell over his shoulder, in front of him, next to his ear. He felt rather than saw his mates running around doing the same thing he was. But in this dark and dirty mess, he prayed the spell hit its mark and not a loved one.

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