the green one is ugh


“The decision was made a long time ago, before any of us knew each other. We were all strangers who would’ve just passed each other on the street before the world ended. And now we mean everything to each other. You were in trouble. You were trapped. Glenn didn’t know you, but he helped you. He put himself in danger for you. And that started it all, from Atlanta, to my daddy’s farm, to prison, to here, to this moment now. Not as strangers, as family. Because Glenn chose to be there for you a long time ago, that was the decision that changed everything. It started with both of you, and it just grew. All of us. To sacrifice for each other. To suffer, to stand, to grieve, to give, to love, to live, to fight for each other. Glenn made the decision, Rick. I was just following his lead.”

hamswritingtho  asked:

When were you going to tell me that you're pregnant? +Feysand I've also been greatly enjoying all the little fics you've been writing :)

Thank you, friend!! This is probably not exactly what you were asking for, but for whatever dumb reason, this popped in my head reading the prompt. Hope you like!

BTW peeps: I’m still doing these, just working through them slowly. Feel free to keep sending them and I’ll try to do them when I can. Link to prompt list is at the end. <3

When Feyre rounds the corner into the produce section of the grocery store, the last thing she expects to see is Cassian shoving a watermelon under her husband’s shirt amid a choir of snickers from the pair of them. Cassian has his phone out and is just about to Snapchat a pic when Feyre clears her throat. The boys freeze, Rhys blushing just a tad.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re pregnant?” Feyre asks Rhys pointedly, stifling a smirk.

“Just getting a feel for things,” Rhys says cooly. “We can never be too prepared.”

“Man, don’t drop it!” Cass barks suddenly, seeing the huge melon begin to slip. Rhys removes it without a problem and replaces it on the shelf.

“You two are going to get us kicked out of here if you keep goofing off. We still have a lot of shopping to do and Nesta’s already bit my head off about the right kind of cheese to go with the appetizers.”

Only Nesta could make cheese and crackers feel unbearably stuffy. And as much as Feyre really does trust Nesta’s expert opinion that brie will be best, she’s not going into this dinner without a hunk of good old fashioned cheddar to see her through.

At the mention of Nesta, Cassian’s eyes spark. How he could have forgotten for even one minute that Nesta was within a five miles radius after she’d let the shopping cart slip against his shins is beyond Feyre. “Don’t worry,” Cass says walking swiftly past Feyre and patting her on the shoulder the way he does when ‘the bro’ is winning, as Azriel likes to call it. “I’ve got this.”

Feyre feels Rhys pull up even with her as she watches her friend strut off to face the horrors waiting for him in Dairy.

“I love Cassian,” Rhys says, and Feyre turns back round to face him, “but I think he has a death wish.”

Feyre tisks and pushes the cart toward the lettuce. “Stop, Nesta isn’t that bad.”

“The fact that you need to specify-”


He holds his hands up in surrender and promptly plucks an apple from a nearby stand, juggling it in a way that’s supposed to seem impressive - never mind that it’s only one apple.

Romaine… baby greens… organic… iceberg… Ugh, nobody even likes iceberg. Classic Cesar will do, Feyre decides. Or possibly… The baby greens stare up at her.

She looks back at the watermelon crate Rhys and Cassian had been messing with and feels her stomach tighten. She and Rhys have been together for nearly five years now, if you count the three years they dated before getting hitched. She knows he wouldn’t pressure her. Not ever. But sometimes he makes an offhand comment and she wonders if Rhys might not be considering beyond her present wishes.

Feyre clears her throat. “Rhys?”

“Yes dah-ling,” he says. Neither of them turn around from their respective produce. Feyre’s not sure she could if she tried.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?”

She chances a peek over her shoulder and finds Rhys has swapped his one-apple juggling act for a rather thorough examination of the differences between Fuji and Granny Smith that has his brows knit together. “What’s that?” Rhys asks, and Feyre whips her head back to the salad options.

“About… not being too prepared.”

“Too prepared?”

The misters switch on unexpectedly, dousing the lettuce and Feyre’s outstretched hand with a fine layer of mist that take her by surprise. “Oh!” she yelps and jumps back, some combination of shock and nerves forcing her into motion. Rhys chuckles and slinks over to lean on the cart.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a cheeky grin. “Last I checked, water is actually good for you.”

“Very funny,” Feyre says, the humor not entirely making it past her lips. She feels rather than sees Rhys’s face twitch.

“What’s wrong? If this about Nesta again and whether or not you thinks she’s going to throw a tantrum over your choice of rabbit food, I promise I’ll protect you.”

“Do you want to have a baby?” Feyre blurts out before she can help herself. Her stomach does a back flip just asking the question. They’ve never talked about it before. Not since they were just starting out dating and trying to decide if this was even a good fit. She knows they both want kids. Maybe just a kid. But there’s something terrifying about the idea that Rhys might want one now.

“Feyre,” Rhys says, leaning forward and dropping to a whisper, “you know I enjoy making love to you at all hours of the day, but if you think me shoving a watermelon up my shirt is gonna piss the employees off, I don’t think they’ll appreciate us-”

“I’m serious,” Feyre says, cutting Rhys off. He blinks at her a few times, mouth parted open slightly. But Feyre wants to know. Is determined to know. “Do you want to have a baby?”

Rhys backs up a step. “Do you want to have a baby?”

“I asked you first.” A small flash of intrigue in those deep blue eyes searches her making her feel known and exposed in ways only he’s ever managed.

“Alright,” Rhys says, folding his arms and seeming to sense that she means business. Feyre draws a deep breath waiting. “You know I want to have a kid - eventually. If you’re asking, do I want one right now?” Feyre nods. “No. I don’t think so. I mean, shoot, if it happens, then great. I’ll welcome it with open arms and shove a watermelon up my shirt for nine months so you don’t feel so bad.” Feyre releases a small chuckle at that and Rhys smiles. “Why so curious about kids all of a sudden?”

Feyre rolls her eyes, more at herself than him, and tosses a hand up. “I don’t know. I saw you joking around with Cassian, but then you made that comment and you’ve said stuff in the past, that I just wondered if maybe you were…” She pauses, catches Rhys watching her intently with his brow raised in amusement, and lets out a shaky laugh. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

Rhys pulls Feyre into his arms with his own chuckle and it feels like she can finally stop fretting. “No, you’re not. It’s good that we talk about these things. I just don’t understand why you’re so concerned with it? You know we can take our time. And if overgrown melons are all we end up with, we’ll be well fed.”

Feyre snorts. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you can’t deny it’s a good idea.”

“No, I really can’t-”

“Get that out of your nose!”

Both Feyre’s and Rhys’s heads snap to the side where Nesta has found the produce section along with Cassian… who has shoved a small wedge of brie up his nose much to Nesta’s chagrin.

Feyre grimaces. “At least it’s shrink wrapped?” Rhys offers, and then laughs when Feyre smacks her head into his chest with a groan. “Come on,” he says, rubbing up her arms a few times for confidence. “Let’s go sort them out.”

“Go on. I just have to grab some lettuce first.” Rhys nods, heading off.

Feyre looks back down at her options and decides, maybe the baby greens aren’t so bad after all. A nice watermelon salad could be good for spring.

Send me a prompt + otp or brotp and I’ll write a drabble!

The Creature(s)

Only 20 minutes ago my squad and I were humming happy tunes and chatting about our spouses’ private parts as we kicked down the door of another abandoned building in this evacuated town.

It was supposed to be a simple operation. Find the source of the fungal infection, clear it, and in a month or two everybody could go back home. We joked about how they should’ve called a gardener rather than a strike team.

But we were wrong, oh so wrong.

My commander and I cowered behind an upturned table as we hid away from this thing… this creature. Private JJ was on the other side of the room, hiding behind a torn up couch.

“What is that thing?” I whispered to my commander, fear in my voice.

“Thing? as in singular? I saw two. One was giving the other a piggy back ride.” she responded, raising an eyebrow. We both had our weapons ready as we heard its footsteps (if you can even call them feet) right outside the crooked wooden door.

“No, I’m pretty sure it was one thing with two different segments.” I responded.

“I’m pretty sure it was two creatures riding one another.” JJ said from across the room. “I mean, that top crab-thing had legs.”

“No, those were its claws.” I said, a bit agitated.

“No they were definitely legs, they were hanging onto that other creature’s back/top of head.” commander interjected. She then turned to JJ. “But it was clearly more like a cat, not a crab. It had fur.”

“That was moss.” I said. She gave me a sarcastic look. The footsteps were getting closer.

“I think that’s right commander. That was definitely moss. It even had mushrooms growing out of it, near the bottom flaps.” JJ responded. He scooched over closer to us to get in on the conversation.

“Those were its eyes!” I whispered, angrier.

“No, the bottom flaps are covering the eyes.” JJ responded.

“You’re both wrong, those bottom flaps aren’t flaps at all, they’re like little wings. That’s how the top creature flies onto the back of the bottom one… I think.” commander said.

“There’re no two creatures!” I stared at her. “Those are flaps, but they’re like hard flaps, like a crustacean’s claws. I saw them extend out of its body and attack JJ.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, the creature doesn’t fly, it crawls up the upper body through the bottom creature’s snail leg.” JJ said.

“Snails don’t have legs.” commander responded. I just sighed.

“Whatever it is, let’s just shoot it when it comes through the door.” I told them both.

“Okay, both of you wait for my orders. We’ll aim at the soft tissue in the middle of the lower half.” commander.

“It’s not soft tissue, it’s like super-hard glass.” JJ said, his fist clenched. “I punched it.”

“No, you punched the layer of hardened shell around it.” the commander responded.

“I think it’s more like watermelon peel, not too hard or too soft.” I responded. This time it was the commander’s turn to sigh. “Also, which part was the middle again? Was it the green or orange one?”

“Ugh!” she cried out. “So we have a target. But we don’t know where its weakpoint is, how it moves, or even how many organisms it is?!”

“Yeah, pretty much.” both JJ and I nodded.

“Okay, you know what, screw this. This debate is over. I’m just gonna shoot it wherever.” and with that, the commander got up and made some noise.

At that exact second, the thing(s) crawled(?) into the room.

The carnage only lasted a few minutes. But in the end, we were victorious. I think.

“You’re right, soldier. It really was only one creature.” commander said as she poked at the tattered remains of the foreign organism.

“Actually.” I said. “Now that I look at them closer, I think you two were right.”

Both commander and JJ sighed in unison.

more alolan eeveelutions! (that have absolutely nothing to do with alola but those are basically the only canonical regional variants right now soooo)

anyway, glaceon is based on glaciers and how they shape bedrock, sylveon is based on a papillon dog and the apollo butterfly, leafeon is based on rusting metal in the woods.



The 100 + episode posters (part II of season 1)

I keep imaging that AMC is gonna pull some cliffhanger shit on us at the end of the season finale and the camera is gonna focus on Daryl as he turns and he just says “Beth?” in this disbelieving voice right before the screen goes black and we won’t even get a reunion scene