round-four

today I am going to go see someone about getting different medication, and then things will go from there I guess, I don’t really know. my dad thinks therapy would do me some good as well. I don’t disagree, I’m just a little hesitant about the four-hour-round-trip drive this would entail for every session.

probably I am putting too much weight on this appointment. I know no one thing is going to make me feel better right away. but it’s difficult not to bring a lot of insecurities into it. I really want things to get better, but what if they don’t? what if I’m just like this? 

…also, even if, objectively, you completely believe in using psychiatric medication when necessary, which I do (obviously), there is still something a little intimidating about the whole prospect of “right, go tell someone a bunch of personal details about yourself, and then we’ll give you some drugs that will make your brain work differently.” 

what I’m saying here is I’m pretty nervous right now. 

not that it takes much, really. 

Third Wheel

It’s late to the party, but here’s my submission for Round 4 of The Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt

A week into Dean and Cas’ newfound relationship and Sam’s only just managed to find peace. He’s not sure what part is worst. There’s the way their voices still get all dewy when they call each other “partner” in their public, fake FBI capacity. Or how Dean goes out of his way to feed bits of his meal to Cas. They ought to sit together on one bench, but nooooooo, Cas wants to see Dean’s eyes. Then, of course, there’s the litany of “sounds Sam should have gone his whole life not hearing” thanks to paper thin motel walls.

Still, of all the awful, terrible things, the absolute worst, Sam suspects, is the incident of last night.

It had been late, Dean had been driving, Sam asleep in the front seat. Earlier in the day, Cas had been sitting shotgun, but he’d offered it to Sam so he could stretch out and sleep. Which, for the record, Sam had been doing.

Until he woke up with Dean’s hand trailing up his thigh.

It’s hard to say which of the Winchesters were more mortified by the mix-up. Dean, of course, had snatched his hand away, but Sam decided to wrap his jacket over his legs. Just in case.

Thankfully, as horrifying as the incident was, it had fueled Sam’s argument that Dean and Cas should work a case alone. Sam could stay in the Bunker, work the research angle, and get a quiet night’s sleep for the first time in a week. Dean and Cas would be free to engage in whatever activities they saw fit after the hunt had ended.

Dean agreed and, the next day, he and Cas were trekking off to Idaho to handle a couple werewolves.

Sam’s loving the peace. So far he’s gone on an uneventful grocery run, eaten out without attracting a single strange look, actually managed to get some viable research done and had a blessedly quiet night’s sleep.

Of course, that’s when Cas calls.

Keep reading

That Night

I had just come out the shower and was now chilling in my boxers. There I was laying in my bed watching the Justice League DVD on a Saturday night while my room mate was out having fun at the club on this rainy night. In my opinion, this was a better way to spend my night instead of going out in the rain to get sick. I am Derek, a slender light skinned black male with brown eyes. I’m not much of a party enthusiast as most in my age category of 18 are but I am human and my dick was starting to make me aware of that fact as it ascended from slumber. If you haven’t guessed already, I’m a virgin. I lowered the TV volume and just as I was about to give it some attention, there was a text notification sound on my phone .

Me (Derek Towers)

My friend AJ hit me up on whatsapp. Now AJ was an attractive guy with an amazing ass and what I had to guess was a pretty good size dick. I could only imagine as I saw the outline once while we were on the beach. AJ was an easygoing fellow about a year older than myself. We met at my job at the hotel where I was a waiter and he was a lifeguard. He was cool and we got along great but he was ridiculously homophobic and there was no way I was going to let him know that I played for both teams.

After our conversation, I still had my little problem. I opened the tumblr app on my phone and scrolled down looking at sexy guys for hours, occasionally watching some porn video. Eventually, I saw a new story by my favorite author @morrisondauthor​ entitled  “Freak by Night 7: Freaky Sneaky.” His stories are always so sexy that I find myself ejaculating before I get to the end. I get so upset when he takes a while to post his stories because they give me life and take me to a world I could never imagine. For some reason, the context usually gets me hornier than the images he uses. I got to the good part and it made me so close to my climax when my phone notification alarmed me. If you haven’t guessed, it was AJ letting me know he got home safely. He went on to tell me about his night and how he had four rounds of sex with his date in her car and she came all 4 times. I was so jealous, I was trying to come once to satisfy myself and he interrupted me boasting about his extravagant time. Now all I had in my mind were images of his sexy ass f***ing her sexy ass in the car and my vivid imagination made me ten times hornier. I had to get my nut so I told him the truth.

Me: You got your nut now I’m going to work on mine

Him: With Pamela? 😂😂😂 Night. Don’t forget the jergens.

I didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead I went to the living room and sat in the couch with nothing on but my boxer briefs. My dick stuck fully erect through the hole in my boxers and I jacked away once again replaying Morrison’s story in my head imagining it was me coming down the stairs to a sexy surprise. The sound of the thunderstorm outside with sprinkles of rain violently pelleting the window fueled my hormones and I could feel my balls ready to release the seed from their constraints. Suddenly there was a loud crash at my doorstep synonymous with a lightning bolt outside which ignited fear into my heart and caused me to forget that I was horny. Cautiously I approached the door and peered through the peep hole to notice nobody standing in the hallway. Still my curiosity wouldn’t let me rest so I opened the door ready to put my self defense skills to the test if I needed it. Imagine my disappointment when I viewed my roommate, Kevin wet from head to toe lying at our doorstep in the fetal position. He appeared to be highly intoxicated and since he doesn’t have a car, I can only assume that a Good Samaritan literally dropped him at the door. As the epinephrine wore off, I started to realize that I was once again disturbed from achieving my natural high.

Even though I was upset, I couldn’t leave him there like that so I dragged him inside. Like AJ, Kevin was straight, usually requesting that I keep the “gay shit” to myself. Yes, he knew about me. I’ve known him since we were kids because we were neighbors and grew up living in each other’s homes. When I found out that I had a taste for both girls and boys, I was around 13 and Kevin was the only person I told at the time. His reaction to the news could have been better. He called me a faggot and stormed out of my house. We didn’t speak for weeks afterward. Eventually he came to me randomly one day and apologized. I couldn’t forgive him and asked him to leave letting him know just how much he hurt me. He didn’t give up though and proved himself from that day forth that he wanted to be my best friend again. He fought off bullies, walked with me home from school and acted like the friend he was before I told him. I forgave him after a while and we were boys again. He constantly tries to get me to go out and drink with him but like I said before, I really don’t have a taste for it. We got this apartment when we moved to Florida for college and we get along well despite his occasional battles with alcoholism. Even so, it’s never been this bad.Kevin loved the gym and he worked out every weekday evening at 5 and went jogging every morning at 6. He took his physical health very seriously which is why I never understood why he drank alcohol. He also managed to maintain above average grades for his track and field scholarship at UCF.

Kevin Dill

I lifted Kevin off the floor and even though he was rather heavy, got him to the bathtub and removed the wet clothes from his barely responsive body. I haven’t seen him naked since we took baths together as kids but when I saw his naked body I had to step back and admire the marvelous muscular masterpiece. My eyes wandered to his dick which wasn’t even hard yet his uncircumcised attachment was 7 inches long and fatter towards the base. I finally snapped back into reality left to get a glass of warm water and an empty bucket in case he vomited. I ran some warm water in the bathtub and thoroughly bathed him. I couldn’t believe I was cleaning a grown man, but I didn’t want him to go into hypothermia. Not only was he drunk, but he was also wet from the cold rain. He started to gain a reasonable level of consciousness.

“Derek? What are you doing?”

“You’re drunk and cold just relax and drink this.”

I gave him an aspirin and the glass of warm water and watched him take it.

“I’m naked”

“I know”

“Why?”

“You were wet and unconscious”

“You couldn’t let me sleep it off?”

“I’m sorry would you rather get a cold or die from dehydration and hypothermia?”

He sucked his teeth, “you didn’t have to remove my boxers.”

“Hey if it’s wet it comes off.”

“Get out,” he said covering his private area.

“Nope, you could pass out at any minute. Look, I already lifted your heavy ass in here, removed your clothes by myself then took my bare hands and wiped your dirty ass. In fact it was my hands that peeled back your foreskin and cleaned your penis. It’s a little too late for modesty.”

He was speechless so I said, “What’s that on the floor? Pick it up you’re making a mess.”

He looked down, “What? What are you talking about?”

“Your bottom lip, now get out the tub and come dry off”

“Ha Ha…very funny,” he sarcastically mumbled as he stumbled out the bathtub.

I was right there to catch him with a towel and prevent him from falling. I began to dry his body when he smartly remarked, “I can do it myself you know”

I removed my body support and he dropped to the ground barely breaking his fall with his forearms.

“I thought you had it.”

“Help me up”

“Help me up what?”

“Help me up please”

“Help me up please what?”

“D’, I’m not saying that”

“Ok,” I began to leave the room.

“Fine, Please help me up Supreme Overlord Towers”

“No problem.” I helped him up and noticed he had an erection.

“Friend of yours?” I teased.

“Shut up!”

I assisted him to his bedside and helped him slide on his boxers.

“I feel so embarrassed,” he admitted

“Why? It’s just us here, chill.”

“This is not fair. You’ve seen me naked now and I even got hard,” he slapped his face in embarrassment.

“We used to bathe together all the time, washing each other’s backs and laughing at each other’s nakedness. What’s the big deal?”

He couldn’t make eye contact and stayed quiet so after sucking my teeth, I slid off my boxers, threw them to the side and danced around in a circle wagging my dick from left to right.

“Woah!” He exclaimed.

“Now I don’t have on anything. Are you happy now?”

He laughed hysterically, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Go to bed.” I helped him lay down and covered him with a warm blanket.

I turned around to leave but to my surprise, he grabbed my hand, “Please, don’t leave me again.”

“Again? I never left you.”

He burst into tears, “yes you did. When I called you by that word and you got upset with me, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I never wanted to lose my best friend. Those were the hardest months of my life, I never even cried over a girl like that.”

Confused, all I could say was, “This must be the alcohol talking.” I turned to leave again.

“Please!” He shouted.

“Okay, okay, just don’t yell like that again. The neighbors are sleeping.”

“Sleep here tonight.”

“If that would make you feel better, fine, but don’t vomit on me please.” I went to the corner to get my boxers.

“You don’t need those.”

Once again, confused but internally contented. I happily obliged, turned off the light went on the other side of his queen sized bed, pulling the covers over my exposed body.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

The sound of rain pattering on the window echoed in the room and I was falling asleep. Unexpectedly, I felt a warm gentle touch on my dick that slammed the emergency brake of the train to dreamland. My dick was being massaged by none other than my best friend. I silently protested in my head not wanting to disturb the amazing sensation I was feeling which caused me to leak pre-ejaculation fluid. My brain finally gained control and I managed to stop him.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Shh. Just let it happen.”

“Now you sound like a rapist. This has to be the alcohol affecting you. You are not in your right frame of mind.” I got up and as I was standing up to leave, he pulled my hand and I landed supine right on the side of him. He lay against me leaning on his side I could see the shadow of his head in front of me and I could feel he was staring at me. Lightning flashed and I saw the look in his eyes that paralyzed me for that moment. I felt the heat radiating from his head increasing in intensity as he slowly approached my face. I felt like Chris from Get Out in the hypnosis scene, helplessly watching this happen through the windows of my eyes. When the eternity passed and he connected with my lips, the curtains closed but I could sense the brightest flashes of lightning outside. I regained control and participated in the best kiss of my life. Opening our eyes and pulling apart met us with nature’s fireworks applauding our performance.

“Wow,” we chorused.

He grabbed my body and brought me into a passionate make out session, rubbing his well toned body against mine allowing me to once again feel it’s shape, this time against my own. He went down to the left side of my neck and started sucking on it while rubbing his hands all over my back down to my bare ass. I hate hickeys but the euphoria was too intense to stop. I felt electricity flowing through my body as he continued. He kissed his way down to my left nipple and I expressed a soft moan. It felt like there was a string directly attached to the pleasure nerves in my dickhead. He continued kissing down my abs until he got to my pubic hairs and he got up. My eyes opened reacting to the sudden pause. We breathed deeply and synchronized.

“I never did anything with a dude before,” he admitted

“I’m still a virgin,” I countered.

“I know.”

I felt my face blush with embarrassment only to be aroused with pleasure at the immediate moist warm sensation that came from the head of my dick. Did he really just put my dick in his mouth? I looked down and he continued down the nine and a half inch solid shaft managing to get half of it in his mouth. That was the most mind blowing feeling in my life.

“You sure you never did this before?”

He chuckled and continued up and down repetitively sending me to a new level of heaven. He paused again and I couldn’t handle any more suspense. I reversed our positions and did exactly as he did to me in the same sequence. I thought my reaction was intense but as I sucked his neck his hands went all over my body and their favorite place was my ass. I worked my way to his nipples and he let out the sexiest deep moan that I couldn’t compare to all my years of watching porn. It send jolts through my body causing me to be extra turned on. I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to know what that dick tasted like. I skipped his abs and went straight to his pubic hairs which like mine were short lavishing in the musk they produced. I licked his dick from the base along the underside to the tip where I licked around the head tasting the pheromones produced. I experimented sticking my tongue in the entrance and he jumped.

“That was intense!” he smiled

I continued taking his head in my throat and he rewarded me with another deep moan. I continued my assault down the shaft attempting to go as far as I could. I made it as far as about 3 inches when ii felt my teeth hit his skin and I pulled back thinking about how much that hurt.

“Easy with the teeth baby”

Baby? If I wasn’t black I’m sure my face would be an apple right now. I tried again, this time opening my mouth as wide as I could and I made it down 5 inches of his eleven before I started to choke and retreat for air. He moaned again and that made me determined to get to the base. I went for it again this time holding my breath and swallowing as I went down fighting hard to resist the urge to cough. I think I made it as far as 9 inches that time but it was as far as I could possibly go. He let out another deep moan lasting longer than any of the predecessors.

“Damn baby no girl ever committed to going that far down.”

I was happy to satisfy him but after that I went up and down taking in only what I could manage, slobbering all over that sexy tool of his. After a few minutes, he pulled my head up and lead me in another intense kiss.

“I want to make love to you baby.” He stared intimately at me.

“How?”

“I want to fuck you.”

“You gotta let me fuck you too”

“No way I’m letting you anywhere near my ass with that thing.” He protested

“And I’m supposed to let you in mine?”

“Yeah but I love you and I want to prove it to you by taking your virginity.”

“I love you too and you can prove your love by letting me fuck you and take your virginity as well”

“I’m not a virgin.”

“Your ass is.”

“You always did have a smart mouth. It’s one of your most attractive qualities.”

“Well, the ball is in your court”

“Ugh….Okay, just go easy on me please.”

“I could say the same.”

“Okay turn over.”

“Umm no. We need to do a couple things to prepare first”

“We? Things like what?”

“Yes we! Come on, I’ll show you”

I went in my bedroom and grabbed my fleet. It’s a good thing I got two new bottles just in case a miracle happened. Didn’t think I’d get to use them so soon. I researched online how to prepare a long time ago and even practiced a couple of times. I taught Kevin what to do and after a while we were ready. We returned to his bedroom and turned his desk lamp on dimly. The patter of the rain was the only sound for a brief moment.

“That felt wierd,” he complained.

“Well there’s one more step we have to take,” I handed him the tube of lube.

“Hold on no need to rush just yet, I want to taste that ass first,” He kissed me intently then moved both of my legs up and attacking my asshole like it was his last meal. I don’t know which was better, that blowjob or the other level he was sending me to while he ate me. I felt his tongue go places that I didn’t know anything could. All of a sudden, I had this epileptic episode I couldn’t control. I was so weak after he finally finished with me. He grabbed the lube and inserted a finger inside my hole to open me up. He worked his second finger in there. and was about to enter.

“You better go up to 4 fingers, that thing is huge”

The third finger hurt like pins and needles. and the fourth was even worse. I really thought I was bleeding. He waited until I was comfortable, somehow managing to remain hard during the entire exercise. I guess he was as horny as I was. He entered me in the missionary position and I felt a sudden sharp pain as he passed my sphincter that sent kilojoules of electricity through my body. I cried and wanted to stop but he held me down and comforted me,

“Relax baby, just relax.”

I took slow deep breaths until the pain eased and he did not move. He waited until I was comfortable before he continued penetrating me at a steady pace. He didn’t go all the way in but he started a slow rhythm with about three inches of his massive meat. He only went further when I was in agreement. I stopped the rhythm and pushed him on his back without severing our connection. Gently I lowered myself onto his rod taking inch by inch until to my surprise, I fit the whole thing in there. I was so proud I almost didn’t notice the euphoric look on Kevin’s face.

“Damn baby, you sexy as f***,” he complimented.

I began a steady rhythm on him and I could feel him hitting my spot every time. Our session went on for a while. We went in every position we could imagine possible until he had me on my belly leaning against the edge of the bed drilling me.

“Hold on baby, you’re going to make me come,” I warned.

“That’s the plan baby,” he smirked.

I realized what he was trying to do and used every will power I had to stop myself from coming and resist him, ending that part of our session.

“You think you’re slick. I’m f***ing your ass tonight.” I retaliated.

He had a look of disappointment on his face but he lie back, removed his condom and succumbed to my wishes. He lie on his back rolling his eyes and pulled his leg up to reveal the prettiest pink spot I’ve ever seen in my life (only one I saw in person but it didn’t compare to anything in porn). I had to treat something so precious with the utmost care. I gently licked it for a few minutes before I let my tongue explore every delicious crevice of his ass it could reach. I imagine his ass would taste like ass but his was surprisingly sweet. I stuck my tongue inside and was shocked when I heard a deep moan escape his lips. I guess he was enjoying this as much as I was. I continued until I tasted something extra sweet and when I looked at it, it was a white fluid. I think he came from his ass. Damn I made him cream from eating him. I couldn’t believe it. His ass was moister than my tongue and I tasted as much as I could before grabbing the bottle of lube. I didn’t think I’d need it but I did not want to hurt him nor did I want him to chicken out. I inserted 2 of my fingers and they went in without a struggle. I had to fight with the third and fourth because his ass had a constant death grip on them. I positioned myself for entry and took it slow with him, exercising as much care as he did me. Like myself, he seemed to experience discomfort with the infiltration of the head. So I repeated the process and let him get used to it. After a while, he told me to go ahead. I started a slow rhythm  and carefully eased inch by inch into him until i was working 5 inches inside him. Without warning, he reversed the situation and put himself on top like I did. He started riding me. I was speechless but it felt so good when he slammed all the way down onto my dick taking all of it. He looked so sexy, I watched as his pecks vibrated and his ass jiggled moving up and down on me. He was so sexy I wanted to cry at the beauty I was beholding. His mouth was wide open and his eyes closed with his head tilted back moaning. He was enjoying this as much as I was. Once again we had another session with multiple positions until I was backshotting him. He creamed on my dick again throughout the experience. It felt so good, I knew I would climax soon.  He tried to run but I managed to pull him back every time. He said it was too intense and he couldn’t take much more, begging me to cum.

“What’s my name?”

“Derek”

“Wrong!” I violently pounded him.

“What’s my name?”

“I don’t know.” He cried.

“Yea you do,” I pounded harder, “what’s my name?”

“Supreme (moan) Overlord (moan) Towers,” he cried out in pleasure. With those words, 2 weeks of tension building erupted into the condom flooding it with life fluid. I came for a minute straight. I didn’t even know that was possible. The condom had the most cum I’ve ever seen in my life inside and I have know idea how all that fit in there. I looked down to see that Kevin came too. His sheets were soaked in his liquid release. There was so much I was sure he produced more than I did. We struggled to catch our breaths for bout five minutes. It was still raining and we took a shower together and had another make out session. We dried off and went to my room in our birthday suits. He spooned me and we had a long intense discussion even though it was now 3 in the morning.

“I wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was afraid.”

“Of what? I’m your best friend.”

“I don’t know. I panicked that day you told me and the reason I freaked out is because I didn’t know how to react. I developed feelings for you and didn’t know how to express myself.”

“All these years and you wait until now to tell me. So what now?”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..


Disclaimer: Persons in the images used are not necessarily as the story describes do not reflect their character or sexuality. They are a mere depiction of each character’s features. However if there is a problem, please write me and they will be replaced by similar entities

© I. Black 2017

This is for @mittensmorgul‘s Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt - Round 4.

Number One Best Brother (ao3)

Sam had thought it was bad when Dean and Cas were fighting, but somehow they’re even more ridiculous when they’re not.

Sam Winchester deserves a medal, he decides. Number One, Best, Most Patient Brother for All Eternity, or something, because this. Well, this.

Honestly, it had been bad enough when they were fighting, what with their ridiculous silent treatment, and painfully transparent sniping, and Sam stuck in the middle like some overgrown child of divorce. But then they’d made up, and the situation between Sam’s brother and his boyfriend best friend angel has attained stratospheric levels of ludicrousness.  

Keep reading

Indigestion is a b!tch

Little background: This was back when I started playing DnD, version 4. I was but a little noob to the game, but my friends were more experienced. We each were playing two characters, and I had a Tiefling warlock and a Rakshasa artificer. One of my friends was DM. We’ll call me Me, him DM, my other friend L, and my OTHER friend A. We were fighting a brown dragon, which is in the chromatic draconomicon of DnD 4th edition.

We come across this dragon in the middle of the desert. It’s burrowing around in the sand under our feet, by it’s not strong enough to tunnel through rock so it can only travel through sand.

We’re standing on a rock with several dead kobolds.

Me: (as artificer) I’ve got an idea. How long does it take to make a clockwork bomb and a flesh patch?

DM: uh, about five minutes each.

Me: (artificer) sweet. Pass me a kobold, L. A, keep the dragon busy.

A:*chucks rocks at the sand to keep the dragon confused, trying to figure out which are footsteps and which are rocks*

I finish making the bombs and patches.

Me: (artificer) ok, can I cut this kobold’s stomach open?

DM: sure, roll for dexterity…?

*i roll a fifteen*

DM: ok, you slice his stomach open. What is the point of-

Me: (artificer) I set the bombs for four rounds and shove them in his abdominal cavity. Then I patch the wound.

DM: you better not be doing what I think you are…

Me: (warlock) I use burning grasp to push him out into the sand. *rolls a seventeen*

DM: you son of a…

Long story short, the dragon ate the kobold-turned-grenade, kept fighting for four rounds, and then promptly keeled over. Unfortunately, the blast also partially collapsed its lair and we didn’t get as much treasure as we could have.

Tl;Dr: I fed a dragon a bomb, he blew up, but karma screwed me over anyway.

TGFWSH- Round Four!

I am so far behind on stuff this week that I thought today was Wednesday. And I thought yesterday was Tuesday… which is why this post is a day late. Whoops.

Between editing, trying to get ready for the Dean/Cas Pinefest, and Real Life™ interfering with my internetting this week, I haven’t even had a chance to read through the round three entries yet, let alone compile the summary list…

Again, whoops.

For anyone who forgot, here’s a brief reminder of “The Rules,” such as they are:

You can submit a headcanon, an outline, a rambly THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS OMG stream of consciousness, or a fully-fledged fic. (Heck, I didn’t even think to suggest opening this up to other fandom artistic types… but heck yeah, if this appeals to you as an art prompt, then feel free to draw it instead. Or make a fan vid. Or a gif set with cracky captions. Whatever floats your boat! The whole reason I started this was to inspire creativity and have some fun. Everybody’s welcome to join in!)

And now on to your assignment. This week’s required elements are:

Love tropehttp://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/LoveMakesYouDumb

and in an unusual twist, because I can’t stop laughing over this week’s promo video and this photo from tonight’s episode:

This week’s uniquely Supernatural-themed element is “Sam is stuck awkwardly playing the Third Wheel.”

That’s it. Now just mash up those two elements, and show me what you come up with!* Feel free to use and/or abuse these tropes however you see fit :P

*the fine print: Tag your entries “the great fic writer scavenger hunt” and “round four” Next Wednesday I’ll make a compilation post of all the contributions, and we’ll see if there will be another challenge.

Go forth and create amazing things!

Tagging previous participants in case y’all want to have another go (apologies if I’ve left you off the list… just reply to this and feel free to shame me publicly. I’m admittedly behind on checking the tag this week for new entries, but I’ll put out the Weekly Roundup post soon-ish…):

@castielsunshinegrace, @funnywings, @lunellumcas, @breathingdestiel,  @wigglebox,  @quiescentcastiel, @theoncomingcroat, @destielonfire, @andimeantittosting, @grey2510, @randomdestielfangirl, @malicezero, @crossroadsangelcastiel, @baredwolf

so my brother in law wanted to go on a side quest for his pathfinder homegame, for a perfectly ordinary, but very expensive, emerald necklace. he needed one more player, so I offered to help.

so there’s my bard, his magus, and his two friends first level fighter and sorcerer.

we explored the town, found that despite being almost completely abandoned, this tiny-ass town had a horde of zombies, choker vines everywhere, a cult, and a motherfucking dragon.

We destroyed the choker vines, avoided the zombies, had tea with the cultists. We also found the emerald.

brother-in-law: “before we leave, where is the dragon?”

cultist tells him it lives in this old, ruined keep with no top at the edge of town. where we go, because apparently, I’m slow on the uptake.

Me: “wait. why are we going there?”

Brother-in-law: “because we haven’t killed the dragon”

Me: “… why do we need to kill the dragon?”

Brother-in-law: “well, dragons have hordes.”

Me: “and will continue to have it with more satisfaction when we are dead?”

Brother-in-law: “I don’t care what you do, but I’m going.”

Me (thinking): oh my god. I’m the healer you moron! how am I supposed to just let you do that??

Me: “fine, I’ll go die with you.”

So we go in, and I attempt to talk the dragon out of his horde- which goes over better than expected.

GM (my dad, for reference): “roll sense motive”

my bard: 18

GM: “ you think if you give it the emerald it will let you leave.”

Brother-in-law: “Nope” attacks the dragon.

initiative hits, no one counts as surprised here and the dragon rolls a 2.

I immediately roll up a intimidate check and because it is my character’s specialty, I shake the dragon for four rounds, then the squishies and I fall back to the human-sized part of the structure and let the magus tangle with the lizard.

the magus starts of with a crit, and confirms it. the dragon pulls a full round but only hits once. the following three rounds the magus does near max damage, and the dragon continues to miss for the sake of bad die rolls. Meanwhile, me and the sorcerer are taking what pot-shots we can through the archway.

over all, it goes well, but even with the dragon missing like crazy, Brother-in-law’s magus is being torn up badly.

Brother-in-law: “so can we withdraw-”

Me: “No, we can’t because we had to come into the dragon’s lair and now we are stuck with it because the motherfucker has wings. Now fight the lizard.”

finally the dragon decides it’s sick of how hard it is to hit and climbs up the wall out of the magus reach.

the magus casts an ranged spell, makes spell resist

DM: “okay, it’s dead”

Me: “wait, really? but no one’s dead”

DM: “yup because my dice are mutinous bastards. one more round and you’d have been dead- it was climbing over to go collapse the roof on you”

Brother-in-law: “See, <my name>, it was fine. we-”

Me: “shush. this was luck we should be dead. let’s find it’s horde and leave.”

DM: “you don’t find it- it’s no where in the keep.”

Me: frustrated “well that’s great. then we leave. No, I’m not healing you till tomorrow.”

then we fought 20 cultists. they killed the 1st lv fighter. I blame the ninny that asked the dragon cultist where the dragon was.

6

First Look: The Ferrari 812 Superfast

Ferrari has selected the 87th edition of the Geneva International Motor Show for the world premiere of the new 12-cylinder berlinetta, the 812 Superfast, the most powerful and fastest Ferrari in the marque’s history.

This new car not only introduces a plethora of innovative features but is also particularly significant as the V12 series marked the official start of the glorious Prancing Horse story in 1947, 70 years ago this year.

The 812 Superfast thus ushers in a new era in Ferrari 12-cylinder history, in doing so building on the invaluable legacies of the F12berlinetta and F12tdf. It is aimed at clients demanding the most powerful and exclusive Ferrari in the range: an uncompromising sports car that will deliver exhilarating driving both on road and track yet also be comfortable enough to allow its owners to enjoy it as an all-round experience.

Keep reading

Hockey, quick and dirty (no, not like that)

So the Stanley Cup Finals are upon us and I’m guessing a few people who’ve never watched hockey might decide to check it out, especially since no matter who wins this year, it’ll be historic.

A lot of people watching hockey for the first time: OMG WHAT THE HAP IS FUCKENING SO MANY MOVING THINGS.

Worry not. I am Here For You.

What even is going on here. I’m dizzy.

Yeah, that happens. What is going on here is that two teams of six dudes each are trying to get a six ounce rubber puck into the back of the other team’s net. They do this by skating rlly fast, banging into each other, cursing a lot, and flinging the puck around. That’s it, basically. Hockey isn’t very complicated in its basics. There is one way to earn a point (make the puck go into the net) and one way to win (be better at making the puck go into the net than the other guys).

I can’t see the puck WHY SO TINY.

I feel your pain. Watching hockey on tv is a bit of an acquired skill. If it helps, watch the players, not the puck. Ironically, watching it live is WAY easier.

Who are these six dudes?

Each team is allowed six players on the ice. Almost all the time, those six players are three forwards (who are supposed to shoot the puck and score - a group of 3 forwards is called a “line”), two defensemen (who are supposed to stop the other team from being able to score, and get the puck back for their team) and one goalie (whose whole job is to stand in front of the net, be huge and impenetrable, and stop the puck from going in). But except for the goalie, everyone shares in all the jobs to varying degrees. Defensemen often score, and forwards often defend. There is at least one NHL team whose top scorer is a defenseman.

There are way more dudes on the bench. What are they even doing, cheering?

They’re waiting for their turn. Each team can have 23 players on their active roster, but can only “dress” (get geared up and ready to play) 20 players for each game. They usually dress four lines of forwards, three defensive pairs, and two goalies (a primary and a backup - most of the time the backup sits on the bench the whole game. He only goes in if the primary gets hurt or gets scored on a LOT). If you are not familiar with the players and their numbers, you’re probably not noticing that the players on the ice change constantly. Hockey is so strenuous that you can’t do it at full game speed for more than a minute. Forwards play in “shifts” of usually 30-45 seconds, defensemen usually 1 to 2 minutes. They swap out as the coaches direct, without stopping play. I have yet to stop being impressed by this. You often don’t see the changes on TV because the cameras stay with the puck, and the players are changing off-camera.

Wait…what’s a power play? That sounds kinky.

A big part of hockey is penalties. You get penalties for doing not-cool stuff with your stick, your body, your skates. Most are minor penalties (two minutes) - there are also double minors (four minutes) and majors (five minutes). When a team is charged with a penalty, a player goes to the box, usually (but not always) the player who committed the penalty. You’re not allowed to replace the player who’s in the box, so this means his team is short one player, and the other team has an advantage, which is called a power play. Teams have a special group of players for the power play (usually their best forwards) and also a special group for when they’re at a disadvantage (called a penalty kill, heavy on their best defensemen because they want to survive the penalty without getting scored on). It’s possible to have TWO players in the box at once resulting in a 5-on-3 advantage (a two-man advantage is the maximum allowed) and sometimes you’ll get one player from each team with a penalty, resulting in a 4 on 4 period.

Icing? Offsides? These are clearly not cake-decorating terms.

Hockey is played in three periods of twenty minutes each with a 15 minute intermission between them. During those periods, play continues until a whistle is blown or a goal is scored. Whistles are blown for penalties, when the goalie freezes the puck (stops it and hangs on to it so it can’t be played), the puck goes out of play (over the glass or into the bench) or when the teams commit the infractions of icing or offsides. Icing is when someone shoots the puck from behind the center line all the way to the opposite end. You’re not supposed to do that. When the puck is being played toward the offensive zone, the puck has to be the first thing across the “blue line” (the line that marks the beginning of the offensive zone). If an offensive player beats the puck across the line, that’s offsides. 

Hey, they’re fighting! That can’t be allowed, right?

Well…yeah, it kind of is. Hockey players frequently get in minor little shovey-shovey sweary shouty skirmishes (this is often referred to as the players getting “chippy”). Those aren’t fights. Real capital-F Fights are actually a stat that is kept for teams and players. An official fight is usually at least semi-planned and the refs are sort of given a heads-up about it, they usually just stand there and let it happen, and the players keep each other from piling on. It’s a real fight if the players drop their gloves and if punches are thrown. Believe it or not, learning to “hockey fight” so you don’t actually injure yourself or the other player is a skill that players are taught. It happens, but usually both players will get some variety of penalty (roughing or fighting depending on the severity and who started it). There was a real fight in last night’s game although it was really more like a minute-long hug session.

They’re totally running into each other. A lot.

Yep. That’s called checking, or hitting. It’s legal to hit a player who has the puck in order to get possession away from him. But there are a lot of rules - you can’t hit someone who doesn’t have the puck, you can’t hit the player with the puck from behind, you can’t hit them above the shoulders or below the knees, you can’t use your elbows, and so forth. Legal hits can still be pretty brutal and how penalties are called for illegal hits is wildly inconsistent. Hits are another stat kept for the teams and it’s a measure of how aggressive they’re being in taking puck possession.

Hey, the players are getting points too, not just the teams.

Yes, they are! Hockey is very team-oriented. It’s extremely rare for a player to score a goal without one of his teammates setting it up for him, or getting the puck to him in a way that enables him to score. Players get equal points in their individual stats for both goals and assists. Each goal has the possibility of two assists - the guy who touched the puck before the goal-scorer, and the guy who touched it before that. Assists are not recorded on every goal, and some goals only have a primary assist and not a secondary. When we talk about players’ stats, the ones most frequently mentioned for forwards are total points (goals + assists), goals, and points per game (goals + assists divided by number of games played). Any player will tell you that the ability to just shoot the puck into the net is not the most important part of offensive play - the ability to “create offense” and set up plays that result in a goal is even more important. Some players are goal-scorers (Alex Ovechkin is one example) and some are players that do more offensive creation (Sidney Crosby is like that). 

DUDE THE GOALIE IS GONE. DID HE REMEMBER THAT HE LEFT THE OVEN ON?

If the goalie is gone it’s probably in the last 2 minutes of the game and his team is losing. There is no rule that says you HAVE to have a goalie on the ice and you’re allowed six players, so if you pull your goalie, you can put another forward on to score. If there’s 2 minutes left and your team is down by 1 or 2 goals, if you pull your goalie, the worst that can happen is you’ll lose MORE, and you might be able to tie the game and force overtime, or even win, if you put yourself at a man advantage with an extra skater. This is called an “empty net” situation and it’s nerve-wracking, especially if your team is the one that pulls the goalie. All it takes is for the other team to break away from your defense and they can pretty much score unchallenged. (There is another situation, delayed penalties, during which a team pulls their goalie during other times in the game, but that’s a bit advanced. I can explain it if anyone’s curious)

Um, is it me or do these playoffs take forever?

It’s not you. The Stanley Cup playoffs take forever. Sixteen teams make the playoffs (out of 30, soon to be 31 teams total) and they play four rounds, each of which is a best-of-seven. The winning team at the end could have played as many as 28 games in the post-season - the regular season is 82 games long. There are four divisions in the league grouped into two conferences. Each division sends their top three teams to the playoffs, then each conference sends the next two highest-scoring teams for a total of eight teams per conference. Those eight play for the conference championships, then those last two teams go on to play for the Stanley Cup. This year’s western conference champions, the Nashville Predators, and the eastern conference champions, the Pittsburgh Penguins, are two games in to the final round now. Pens are up 2-0 games in the series. Each round takes about two weeks - the playoffs started April 12 and could end as late as mid-June if the final round goes to seven games.

A lot of these dudes seem to be Canadian.

Yep. Hockey is Canadian for sure. Of the players in the NHL, 50% are Canadian (if you can name a world-famous hockey player there’s about a 95% chance he’s Canadian), 25% are American and 25% are European of some other variety (mostly Russian, Swedish, Czech and Finnish). One of the things about hockey that bugs me is that it’s SO WHITE. There are many reasons for that, but it’s getting better. At this year’s All Star Game there were six minority players invited, and there are some amazing up-and-coming young players of color in the league like Auston Matthews (who will 98% probably win the Calder trophy for Rookie of the Year this year), Josh Ho-Sang, Seth Jones and Nazem Kadri, three of whom played in this year’s playoffs.

There’s a lot of hugging. I did not expect this much hugging.

Hockey players hug a lot. After someone scores it’s pretty much standard for there to be a big hugpile.

Okay, I think I’m good for now.

Awesome! Hockey is fun to watch and hopefully this has been helpful. I enjoy talking about it and learning more stuff myself, so send me an Ask if something confuses you.

Steve Rogers (NSFW Alphabet)

Number three for my 500 follower thing! Steve Rogers for @sistasarah-sallysaidso 

tags: @yourtropegirl @itsanerdlife @lipstickandwhiskey @captainumeboshi @feelmyroarrrr @emily-james-barnes (maybe. do you like steeb? i forget)

A/N: i’ll add links later, if i have time. 

Keep reading

The Columbine High School Massacre

One of the most infamous school shootings in US history and one of the most frequently talked-about subjects in the true crime community, the Columbine High School Massacre was a tragedy that definitely left a mark on the world. This post is going to explain in detail the events of the shooting. 


On the morning of April 20, 1999, two Columbine students put their year-long plans into action. Eric Harris, 18, and Dylan Klebold, 17, arrived at their high school separately around 11:10am. Both were heavily armed with guns, knives, and several home-made pipe bombs. Harris carried a Hi-Point model 995 carbine rifle and a sawed-off pump-action shotgun, while Klebold was armed with a Tech-DC9 9-mm semi-automatic handgun and an additional sawed-off double barrel shotgun. The pair wore their usual attire of black trench coats, as well as personalized t-shirts. Klebold’s black t-shirt displayed the word “WRATH” in bright red lettering, while Harris wore a white t-shirt with the words “NATURAL SELECTION”. When the two arrived at Columbine High School, they each parked their cars on each side of the school cafeteria’s entrance, as the cafeteria was their main target. 

Photo: The knives of which Harris and Klebold were armed with.

Photo: The firearms used in the massacre.


Prior to arriving at the school, Harris and Klebold had planted a small fire bomb in a nearby field. This bomb was set to detonate at 11:14am and was intended to be a distraction for firefighters and emergency services. Luckily this bomb only partially exploded, causing a small fire that was quickly extinguished by the fire department. Back at the school, the vehicles of each perpetrator contained additional bombs set to explode at noon. Harris and Klebold first entered the school to plant two 20-pound propane bombs, which were concealed in duffle bags, in the cafeteria. This action was not caught on the school’s security footage due to the tapes being switched out. These bombs were set to blast at 11:17am. The strategy of the perpetrators was to eliminate the majority of the school population during the busiest lunch time, then execute any remaining survivors.


When duo returned to each of their cars to await the explosion, Harris encountered Brooks Brown, a fellow student. The two had a history of conflicts with each other, but they had recently made amends. Brown approached Harris, remembering that he had been absent from an important class test. After mentioning this, Harris stated “It doesn’t matter anymore”, and continued on saying, “Brooks, I like you now. Get out of here. Go home.” Brown nervously decided to walk away and later heard what sounded like gunshots.


Fortunately the propane bomb explosions failed to occur. It was later discovered that if they had exploded with full power, all 488 people present in the cafeteria at the time would have been killed, or at the least severely injured. The ceiling also could have collapsed, dropping the school’s library onto the cafeteria. When the bombs failed to detonate, Harris and Klebold decided to proceed with their plans. They approached the west entrance of the school at 11:19am, throwing a pipe bomb in the direction of Rachel Scott and Richard Castaldo. The two friends were having lunch together when Castaldo noticed an object being thrown towards them. The pipe bomb only partially exploded, causing Castadlo to assume that this was merely a senior prank. Harris then yelled “Go! Go!” according to a witness, and both shooters retrieved guns from their trench coats. They first began to shoot at Scott and Castaldo. Rachel Scott is believed to have been shot first, ultimately a total of four times, by Harris. She was killed instantly. Castaldo was shot eight times in the arm, chest and abdomen. He became paralyzed below the chest and fell into unconsciousness.


Following this, Harris removed his coat and shot in the direction of three students ascending from a staircase. The students were Daniel Rohrbough and Sean Graves, both 15, and Lance Kirklin, 16. All three were hit and wounded. Meanwhile, inside of the school cafeteria, students had heard the commotion outside and believed they were witnessing a senior prank. A teacher by the name of Dave Sanders realized that the school was really being attacked and took immediate action. Sanders successfully evacuated the majority of the students in the cafeteria and continued to secure as much of the school as possible. Back outside the school, the perpetrators began firing towards five students sitting on a grassy hillside. A 15-year-old boy named Michael Johnson was shot in the face, arm, and leg, but was able to run and escape. Mark Taylor, 16, was shot in the arms, chest, and leg; he fell to the ground. The remaining three students were able to get away unharmed.


It was at this time that Dylan Klebold approached the injured Lance Kirklin, who was weakly calling for help. Klebold shot him in the face after saying “Sure, I’ll help you”. Kirklin miraculously survived. Sean Graves, who was paralyzed below the waist, had crawled through the doorway of a cafeteria entrance and collapsed. Daniel Rohrbough, who had already been fatally shot by Harris minutes before, was shot again at close range in the upper chest by Klebold. The same gunman then walked over the injured body of Sean Graves, entering the cafeteria (possibly to check on the propane bombs inside). Eric Harris shot at numerous students sitting near the cafeteria’s entrance, seriously wounding Anne-Marie Hochhalter, 17, as she attempted to flee. Klebold afterwards met back up with Harris and the two fired at students near a soccer field; nobody was hit. The shooters then walked towards the west entrance once more, throwing pipe bombs (most of which failed to explode).


As Harris and Klebold were approaching the doors, so was art teacher Patti Nielson and Brian Anderson, a 17-year-old student. Nielson had noticed the pandemonium and was intending to tell the perpetrators to “knock it off”, as she also assumed they were pulling a prank or filming a video. When Anderson opened the first set of double doors, the shooters fired at the windows. Nielson was hit in the shoulder with shrapnel and Anderson was hit by flying glass. Nielson immediately rushed into the school library, warning everyone about the dangers; the injured Anderson stayed behind. Nielson instructed those in the library to get underneath tables and stay quiet, afterwards calling 911.


Deputy Neil Gardner, an armed full-time Student Resource Officer, was contacted through his radio at 11:22am. Gardner’s assistance had been requested in the school’s senior parking lot and while driving there it was reported that a female was down. As he arrived at the parking lot at around 11:24am, another call was heard on his radio: “Neil, there’s a shooter in the school”. When Eric Harris noticed Deputy Gardner, he immediately fired at him using his carbine rifle. Harris fired a total of ten shots at Gardner, who was approximately 60 yards away. When Harris diverted his eyes to reload his firearm, Gardner returned four rounds of fire. However, Gardner was not wearing his prescription glasses and was unable to hit the shooter. Harris then entered the school building; no one was injured during this standoff.


Within just the first five minutes of the massacre, two students had been killed, ten were wounded, and one of the shooters had endured a firefight with an armed officer. 


For the next several minutes Harris and Klebold walked through the school, throwing pipe bombs and shooting at anyone who encountered them. It was then that Klebold shot student Stephanie Munson in the ankle. Regardless of her injuries, she was able to flee from the school. The gunmen shot out several windows and continued to fire at students they spotted while making their way through the halls, ultimately failing to hit anyone. 


Another firefight erupted between two newly arrived deputies and Eric Harris, but again no one was harmed. In the meantime Dave Sanders and another student were still securing the school. They came across the shooters and quickly ran in the opposite direction as they were shot at. The student was able to get away unharmed, but Sanders suffered two gunshot wounds to the chest. When the shooters left, Sanders began struggling towards a classroom holding 30 students. When the injured Sanders entered the classroom, students there placed a sign in a window for authorities and medical services. The sign read “1 bleeding to death”.


Despite the circumstances, teachers were able to recruit a student named Aaron Hancey and brought him to the location of Dave Sanders. Hancey had first aid knowledge, and with the help of student Kevin Starkey and teacher Teresa Miller, was able to conduct procedures on Sanders for a full three hours or so. They tried to stem the blood loss using the shirt of various students while also maintaining contact with officials outside. 


Now, at 11:29am, the worst part of the massacre would take place. Patti Nielson had been speaking with emergency services on the phone since approximately 11:25am, and stayed on the line during the entire attack on the library, recording the events. Harris and Klebold first threw two bombs into the library hallway, damaging lockers. After this they entered the library itself, where a total of 56 people were present. Harris yelled “Get up!” at a volume so loud that he can be heard on the 911 recording. Later reports from witnesses claim that the perpetrators then also yelled “All jocks stand up! We’ll get the guys in white hats!”. 


When nobody stood up in response to the gunmen, Harris shouted “Fine, I’ll start shooting anyway!”. He first used his shotgun, firing twice at a desk; Evan Todd was hit by wood splinters, but wasn’t seriously injured. Harris and Klebold then walked to the opposite end of the library, towards two rows of computers. Klebold murdered Kyle Velasquez, 16, firing at his head and back. Both of the shooters then reloaded their weapons. Harris spoke to Klebold, saying “Let’s go kill some cops”, and the two proceeded to shoot at police through a window; the officers fired back. No injuries occurred during this exchange. Klebold afterwards fired his shotgun at a table, injuring Patrick Ireland, Daniel Steepleton, and Makai Hall. He then removed his trench coat while Harris fired his shotgun underneath a table without looking. He hit Steven Curnow, 14, in the neck, killing him.


Following this Harris fired under another table, injuring Kacey Ruegsegger, 17. The bullet went through her right shoulder, as well as her hand, and grazed her neck, severing a major artery. When Ruegsegger began to gasp in pain, Harris told her “Quit your bitching.” Next the gunman walked over to a different table and knocked on the surface twice. He then knelt to the ground, saying “peek-a-boo” before firing a single shot into the head of Cassie Bernall. When shooting Bernall, Harris had been holding onto his shotgun with only one hand, causing the weapon hit his face in recoil; he broke his nose as a result. 


After the execution of Cassie Bernall, Harris turned to another table and asked Bree Pasquale if she wanted to die. Pasquale simply replied with a plea for her life. It was reported that at this time Harris seemed disorientated; this was likely a result of the heavy bleeding from his broken nose. During this encounter with Pasquale, the other perpetrator witnessed Patrick Ireland attempting to provide aid for another wounded student. Ireland’s head rose above the table and Klebold shot him a second time; Ireland was hit twice in the head and once in his foot. Thankfully Ireland survived this, but he fell unconscious. Klebold then discovered more students -who were also popular athletes- hiding underneath a single table. These three students were Isaiah Shoels, 18, Matthew Kechter, 16, and Craig Scott (the younger brother of Rachel Scott), 16. Klebold attempted to pull Shoels out from under the table as he called to Harris. Using Harris’ nickname, Klebold shouted “REB! There’s a nigger over here!”. Harris then left Pasquale behind and joined his partner.


As reported by witnesses, the perpetrators insulted Shoels for a time, making derogatory racial remarks. Moments later Harris shot Shoels in the chest, killing him. Klebold opened fire as well, murdering Matthew Kechter. “Who’s ready to die next?” Harris afterwards yelled. Throughout this exchange, Craig Scott laid unharmed in his friend’s blood, fearing death. A carbon dioxide bomb was thrown by Harris in the direction of Patrick Ireland, Makai Hall, and Daniel Steepleton. The bomb landed on Steepleton’s thigh, but was quickly thrown away by Hall. After these events Harris walked over to a bookcase, jumped on it, and began to shake it. He additionally fired a random shot in that general area while Klebold walked around and shot at a display case next to the library door.


Klebold then began shooting at the table closest to him. He hit Mark Kintgen, 17, in the head and shoulder. Lisa Kreutz and Valeen Schnurr, both 18, were injured next, getting hit with the same gunshot blast. After this Klebold moved towards the same table, shooting and killing Lauren Townsend, 18, with his Tech-DC9 handgun. When Schnurr, who was suffering from serious injuries, began to scream “Oh my God, oh my God!”, Klebold asked if she believed in the existence of God. When she replied yes, the shooter asked her “Why?” before leaving the table. At this time Harris knelt down at a table, dismissing two girls as “pathetic”. He then approached another table and fired two shots; Nicole Nowlen and John Tomlin, both 16 years old, were injured. As Tomlin tried to move away from the table, Klebold kicked him and Harris mocked his attempt to escape. Tomlin was shot repeatedly and murdered by Klebold.


Harris walked back to where Lauren Townsend lay dead and found Kelly Fleming, 16, hiding behind a table rather than under it due to lack of space. She was shot in the back by Harris, and died instantly. The gunman fired again, hitting the already deceased Lauren Townsend and the injured Lisa Kreutz. The shooters then proceeded to the center of the library and again reloaded their weapons. Harris took notice to a student hiding nearby and asked him to identify himself. This student identified himself as John Savage, who had came to the library to study earlier in the day. Savage identified himself with the belief that the shooters were only targeting jocks, which he himself was not, in an attempt to save his own life. Savage questioned Klebold, asking what they were doing, and Klebold plainly answered “Oh, just killing people”. After this Savage asked if they were going to kill him. Possibly due to the sound of a fire alarm, Klebold asked “What?” and he repeated his question. Klebold hesitated, but told him to leave. Savage immediately fled from the library, running quickly as he feared the shooters may change their minds about letting him go. He made it out of the school safely.


Daniel Mauser would lose his life next. After Savage’s escape, Harris turned and fired his carbine rifle at Mauser, grazing his ear. Mauser, 15, then bravely fought back. He shoved a chair at Harris, but the shooter fired again and fatally hit him in the face at close range. Both perpetrators then moved south, firing randomly at another table, where they critically injured Jennifer Doyle and Austin Eubanks, 17. Corey DePooter, 17, the final victim of the massacre, was also murdered here. He died at approximately 11:35am and was later acknowledged for keeping his friends calm during the attack.


There were no further injuries after the death of DePooter. Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold murdered 10 people and injured 12 in the library. 34 people remained there unharmed. It was eventually revealed that the shooters had enough ammunition to have killed everyone in the library.


Witnesses reported that at this time Klebold said “Maybe we should start knifing people, that might be more fun”. The shooters moved to the library’s main counter and Harris threw a Molotov cocktail towards another end of the library, but it failed to explode. Harris and Klebold then walked over to where Evan Todd had hid after being initially wounded. They mocked Todd and demanded to see his face. Todd only partially lifted his white hat, and Klebold asked for a reason to not kill him. “I don’t want trouble”, Todd had said. The gunman further taunted the student, saying “You used to call me a fag. Who’s a fag now?!”. The perpetrators continued this momentarily, debating whether or not to murder Todd, ultimately walking away.


Possibly due to Harris’ disorientation the two decided to leave the library at 11:36am. Before exiting, Klebold fired a shot into an open library staff room, where he hit a small television. He also grabbed a chair and slammed it down on top of the counter directly above where Patti Nielson was hiding. With great fear and caution, survivors in the library began to evacuate through the north door, leading them to a sidewalk next to the west entrance of the school. Kacey Ruegsegger was evacuated from the library by Craig Scott; if she had not been evacuated at that time, Ruegsegger likely would have died from her injuries. The injured and unconscious Patrick Ireland and the injured Lisa Kreutz were unable to move and therefore remained in the school.


Teacher Patti Nielson joined student Brian Anderson and three library staff members in the staff break room that Klebold had previously fired shots into. They locked themselves in this room where they remained until approximately 3:30pm, when they were evacuated. Meanwhile the gunmen walked through the building, causing a small fire in an empty storage closet which was quickly put out and shooting into an empty science classroom. Soon they reentered the cafeteria. Harris knelt down and fired towards one of the propane bombs in a failed attempt to detonate it. He also took a sip from a drink that was left behind in the cafeteria while Klebold examined one of the propane bombs. 


As the two shooters departed the cafeteria, Klebold threw a Molotov cocktail, which exploded and partially detonated one of the propane bombs at 11:46am. Within minutes, about one gallon of fuel was ignited in the same area, causing a fire which was extinguished by the school’s fire sprinklers. After leaving the cafeteria Harris and Klebold returned to the hallways, shooting aimlessly. As they wandered, the shooters occasionally approached classroom doors, looking inside. They made make eye contact with those inside, but did not attempted to enter any of the rooms. At one point the gunmen reloaded their weapons near the room where Dave Sanders was being attended to. Aaron Hancey later spoke about jumping away from the classroom door’s window, and how those moments were some of the scariest for him during the entire massacre.


The perpetrators arrived at a bathroom and the taunted students inside, making remarks such as “We know you’re in there” and “Let’s kill anyone we find in here”. Neither shooter attempted to enter the restroom and no one there was harmed. Around 11:55am Harris and Klebold entered the cafeteria once more. They briefly entered the school kitchen, then went back up a staircase and into the school’s south hallway. Harris and Klebold finally entered the library at 12:02pm. They began shooting at police officers outside, who returned fire, but as before no one was injured.


At 12:08pm, approximately 49 minutes after the beginning of the massacre, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold committed suicide. Patti Nielson suddenly heard the two shout in unison, “One! Two! Three!”. These words were followed by the sound of gunfire. Harris had fired his shotgun through the roof of his mouth, and Klebold had pulled the trigger as he held his Tech-DC9 handgun up to his left temple.


By 1:09pm SWAT teams had entered the school, going through each classroom individually, discovering and evacuating hidden students and faculty members. At 2:38pm, the injured Patrick Ireland had been able to crawl to the library’s windows. Since being shot by Klebold, he had regained and lost consciousness several times. Ireland stretched himself out of a broken window, intending to be caught by two members of the SWAT team who were standing on top of an emergency vehicle. However, Ireland suddenly fell and landed on the roof of the vehicle. Lisa Kreutz, injured and still in the building, kept track of time by listening to the school’s bells until she was evacuated. Kreutz, along with Patti Nielson, Brian Anderson, and the three library staff members, were safely evacuated by authorities around 3:22pm.


Despite Aaron Hancey and other’s attempts to aid Dave Sanders, he unfortunately passed away by 3:00pm. Sanders was the only teacher to die in the massacre.


A total of 15 lives were lost, including the two lives of the shooters. An additional 24 people were injured; 21 of these injuries were a result of gunfire and the other three occurred while fleeing the school. 188 rounds of ammunition in all were fired by the two perpetrators; 121 by Harris and 67 by Klebold. The police also fired 141 rounds of ammunition during the gunfights with the shooters. Columbine High School was declared safe at 4:30pm, and additional explosives were discovered by authorities in the following hours. After some findings, the sheriff decided to mark the entire school as a crime scene. The bodies of the deceased were still inside of the building at the time. Throughout the late hours of the day, the bodies were removed from the school grounds and taken to the Jefferson County Coroner’s Office where they would be identified and autopsied. It was around 5:00pm when the names of most of the perished were released.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Neil and Andrew are at some sort of bar or restaurant and someone hits on Neil. Neil doesn't understand because he isnt used to being flirted with.. But Andrew does. (Andrew's reaction?) 🌸thx

Eden’s seems louder than usual as they push through the doors. The music blaring through the club is especially bass heavy, and the beat thrums through the floor and up through Neil’s toes. Neil can already see the large sea of writhing bodies on the dance floor, and more bodies are pressed together up on this level around the bar and tables. He weaves his way around the bodies, keeping his eyes on Kevin’s back as he follows him.

When they sidled up to the bar, they’re lucky enough to catch a group moving away with their drinks. Nicky and Aaron are quick to grab the abandoned stools with Neil and Kevin filling in the space behind them. A few minutes have ticked by, the music switching over to an upbeat EDM track, when a bartender comes over to them. Neil doesn’t recognize the bartender, a tall guy with a mop of blonde hair, but that doesn’t stop the bartender from smiling easily at them.

“What can I get y’all?”

“Actually, we’re waiting for Roland,” Nicky explains, trying to peer around the bartender.

“Oh, he’s not in tonight,” the bartender says. “Something about a family emergency? So you’ve got me, Brayden.” 

Keep reading

10

edit challenge → vs. @anyasromanov​ ♦ round four
FAVOURITE CULT CLASSIC + THE BREAKFAST CLUB (1985)