>Gaia’s economy was destroyed by irresponsible Gaia Cash practices
>Club Penguin has shut down
>Runescape still has a stable economy and a sizable playerbase and continuous updates to improve content, and quickly taking note of player feedback regarding many things, even made a clone of the old version for players who disliked the new version.
RS is the only 2000s online hangout still kickin, lads.
A/N: Requests are open and I absolutely am open to anything! I love speaking to you guys and receiving any type of feed back so please don’t hesitate to send an ask or message (:
March 10th, 1917 She didn’t get it; nobody did. How could she, a woman that lived in the year 2017, have a soulmate that is 100 years old? She always thought it was a painful joke. Everyone around her had years written on their wrist, arms, legs, you name it. But from the year 1917? No. She was the only one. The one who had a joke for a soulmate.
Yeah, sure, maybe there was one old man still kickin’ it out there, but there was no chance in hell she’d marry him. There was no chance she’d put herself in that type of predicament, therefore, her tattoo was a joke.
It pissed her off, beyond what anyone could imagine. Everyday, she was reminded by the date, the date tattooed in the crease of her arm. It pissed her off because she wasn’t the type that normally attracted anyone. She wasn’t the one for love, or so that’s what she thought. Nobody was really interested in her, and the only chance of someone liking her was for a laugh.
She was deep in her thoughts when someone brought her back to reality.
“Hey, (Y/N)! Don’t want to be caught dozing off on the job, do you?” Her friend, Austin, threw a hacky sack at her arm.
Laughing, she picked it up and swung it back at him. “You need these for the customers! Don’t go throwing them at your friends!”
He swiftly grabbed the toy before setting it on the small counter. There were a handful of booths in the amusement park, and they just had to make him watch over the ones with miniature bing bags.
While Austin was taking over the booth called ‘Tin Can Toss’, she was in charge of the ‘I Can Guess Your Weight/Age!’ game. She hated it, really, but she had to make money some how, and for her it was guessing something she didn’t nearly care about.
It’s not that it was boring, but it was stupid. They had her take special classes, 45 minutes a day wasted on learning what was the best way to guess someone’s age or weight. Sure, she’d rather be working at a Starbucks or any old candy store, but for now she was stuck on a guessing game.
“Keep an eye out, I think that group over there is planning on playing your game” Austin spoke up, pointing in the direction behind her.
She looked over her shoulder and groaned. Three guys and girl were leaning up against a fence that surrounded the carousel nearby, their eyes stuck on the booth you sat in. A darker male was laughing loudly, nudging another man with long brown hair your way.
“Nah, they’re just laughing at how stupid the game is.”
“I don’t know, (Y/N). I think they’re coming!” He nodded his head in their direction, clearly pointing out that the group was making their way toward you.
She practically whined at her friend before turning towards the customers with a fake smile.
“Hello! Plan on playing?” She kept that fake smile plastered on her face, observing each and every one of them.
“Yeah, actually, my friend here wants you to guess his age.” The darker man from before clamped his hands on the back of the brunettes shoulders, pushing him even closer to her.
“Oh, yeah? Alright, let’s give it a go! It’ll just be 5 dollars.” She watched as the third man dug his wallet out of his pocket. After a few moments, he handed her the bill and she stuck it in the apron around her waist.
“Okay, so let’s see.” She walked toward the shy man, looking him up and down, studying his facial features and body shape. “You don’t mind if I just… awkward check you out, right? I promise, it’s part of the job.”
He smiled, chuckling silently. His eyes observed the woman before him, watching her study his body as if it were an art piece in a gallery.
“Well, before I guess, remember that if I’m 2 years off, it counts. Alright?” She crossed her arms, thinking one last time before receiving a nod from the male.
“Okay, give it your best.” His friends behind him laughed, covering their mouths. She knew something wasn’t right, but she didn’t know what. The whole group was acting weird. Why were they acting weird?
“28.” She shrugged her shoulders, wrinkling her eyes in uncertainty. She watched them as they held their laughter in, trying not to seem like they were laughing at her guess.
“Way off?” She dropped her arms, sighing. “I’m new to this job. I lost, go ahead and grab a prize.” She placed a hand on her hip, the other rubbing her face as she closed her eyes.
“Don’t even want to know my actual age?” He hesitantly stood there, looking back at his friend, then returning his gaze back at her.
“To see how much I failed? Nah, I’ll pass.” She smiled while doubting herself, watching the man rub his stubble.
“You technically are around that age physically, Bucky. Cut her some slack, she was right.” The blond friend set his hand on Buckys shoulder.
She furrowed her eyebrows, giving a confused smile. “Whatever that’s suppose to mean.”
He looked back at his friends, receiving an ‘approval’ nod. Not only did she notice, but she was even more confused as she was before.
“Well, I don’t know how to say this but,” He trailed off, looking behind him at his blond friend again. She could tell he was looking for reassurance, but not what for. “I’m 100 years old. My body looks around 28 years old, but technically I’m 100.”
She put on a humorous smile, looking over at Austin who was eavesdropping from the booth. He hid his laugh, shrugging at her.
“100? Glad I know someone around the same age, I’m 97.” She held her hand out at Bucky, smiling mischievously while he gave her a serious look.
“Don’t believe me?” She dropped he hand, rolling her eyes at how serious he was taking the act.
“Why would I? There is no way in hell you’re 100 years old. You don’t even look old enough to have your own children.” She leaned against the back of the booth, crossing her arms and laughing dryly.
“He’s not lying.” The friend from earlier walked forward, setting his hand on Buckys shoulder. “Ever heard of Captain America?”
She continued to stare strangely at the men, wondering why they’re even telling her this. Even if they were telling the truth, why go as far as this to prove it to her?
“Steve Rogers, the face of America! A man who was frozen in ice, brought back, and now works for the Avengers or something. Are you telling me you’re Captain America?” She sarcastically explained, rubbing her eyes, and growing tired of the conversation. None of it made sense to her, and she didn’t care anyways.
“Well, I am. This here is my friend Bucky.” The blond claimed, staring at her as if not an ounce of what he said was a lie.
She leaned her head back, looking at the sky. Great, (Y/N). Here you are, sitting at a worthless booth being told this man is 100 years old and is best friends with Captain America.
“Okay, but why are you telling me this?” She straightened her back, grabbing the nearby water bottle and taking a long drink.
“We walked past this booth earlier, and uh,” He trailed off, looking towards the darker man that had kept quiet this whole time. “My friend, Sam, noticed your arm.”
“My arm?” She looked down at her arm, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.
“Well, it says the 10th of March, 1917.” His finger pointed toward the part of your arm which had the birthdate of your soulmate.
“You’re not implying that-“
“Is your birthday (DD/MM/1989)? That’s all I want to know.” Bucky cut her off, staring at her arm and then into her eyes. “I just want to make for sure.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She furrowed her eyebrows, staring at the floor. There was no way he was he soulmate, this made no sense.
She took a deep breath, accepting the situation and began to believe it. Why would they lie about this? It had to be true, right?
“All this time I thought I was going to be this old mans soulmate. There’s no way! This has to be a joke!” She ran her hands through her hair, looking over at her friend for support. He shrugged his shoulders before giving her a smile that basically said ‘it’s all on you’.
She inhaled deeply, staring at the blue-eyed man in front of her. “If you are my soulmate, then this whole time I actually had one, and it wasn’t some old man on life support. Holy shit! I can’t believe this! I never thought this day would come! I think I’m actually-“
“Calm down, Doll.” His voice spoke deeply to her, calming her down instantly. “Breathe. Just breathe.”
She slowly nodded, taking in a deep breath and calming her heart beat.
Someone scoffed loudly behind him, speaking up in a humorous voice. “Don’t tell her to calm down, you were practically the same way before we calmed you down and brought you over here.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, looking behind him and slapping the mans arm, receiving a troublesome grin. “Sam. You’ve stayed quiet, and then you decided to speak at the worse time?”
Bucky turned back to her, looking at her arm once again before pulling his left sleeve up. “I always thought that God put a date from many generations after me on my arm as a joke. As if I couldn’t love anyone from my own generation. I surrounded myself with different woman, hoping to just prove to myself that I could love someone. Then I lost my arm, and for the longest I couldn’t remember the date that was printed there.”
“Your arm-“ She instantly grabbed his left arm, holding it in her hands and admiring the metal blades. She would have felt sorry, but she somewhat found it amazing. “You can use this as your arm? How is that possible?”
She traced her fingers against the patterns on his arm, holding them strongly in her grip as if it was as fragile as a glass plate.
“Maybe you can explain it to her over dinner tonight.” The woman finally spoke up, giving you both a smirk.
Bucky looked over his shoulder, laughing at what she had said “Did you just hit on her for me?”
“Someone had to do it.”
“Agreed” Steve spoke up, earning a nod from Sam.
“Keep in mind that you were the back alley kid once.” Bucky shook his head before pulling his sleeve back down and shoving his hands into his pockets.
Steve walked up, giving him a pat on the back. “Hey, I’ll leave you two alone for now. Call me when you’re ready.
They shared a smile before exchanging a few words, and parting ways. The three traveled to a food stand across the walkway, slowly watching them both out of the corner of their eyes.
He began to speak, trying to start a small conversation and learn the basics but he kept noticing the obvious glances from across the park.
“Obvious, aren’t they?” He looked across the area, watching them as they quickly look the other way as if they weren’t staring moments before.
He smiled awkwardly before hesitantly holding out his human arm towards her. She gave him a confusing, but humorous look before slowly accepting it and shaking.
“Sorry, I just never got to introduce myself properly. Bucky Barnes, well, James Barnes. I’d like to go by Bucky though.”
“I kinda like James, I don’t know.” She teased, giving him a quick wink and setting her hands on her hips. “Nice to meet you, bucky.”
“C’mon now, Darlin’. I need a name in return.” He sheepishly smiled at her, receiving a blush and an awkward smile.
i. i was an infant and somehow i was still able to be left. i was two months old and my father left me out in the cold. I'm told that it was for the best and he was a bad, bad person and i should keep my head up because ‘baby, you can be so much better without him’ so tell me why i stay up stifling my 3am screams about how no one will ever love me. A father is a father, someone who is supposed to stay, someone who is supposed to be there and he left me as quick as lightning hits the ground, leaving “UNLOVEABLE” burning into my flesh and my veins and my mind.
ii. at 13 i wanted to kill myself. the boys i liked didn’t like me because i was still underdeveloped and i was rough and still liked to play hide and seek tag when all they wanted was for me to wear makeup and be soft and play under the covers. i would cry and cry as i could hear my mom yelling at me, it played over in my head as i stood with my wrists over the bathroom sink and watched the running water swirl with red. if i was hurting i didn’t want to feel it, i wanted to be numb, so i became numb.
iii. at 17 i fell in love. i fell in love hard, with a boy that would never tell me the same. he looked a lot like my father, and he had the bad habits of getting attached to feeling faded and only when he was faded did he ever feel attached to me. he showed me midnight kisses and taught me how to feel again, how to be alive again. he held my heart in the palm of his hands and he never smashed it, he never dropped it, but he never held it close to his own, he never gave it back and now that he’s gone i can feel the ache of my hallow chest because my heart went with him and he can look at it whenever he wants but he won’t ever love me back.
iv. at 18, i can feel myself slipping away from the person i used to be, from the person i want to be and it hurts because i no longer know how to be numb. that boy took my numbness and gave me pain and now all i do is hurt and hurt and hurt. i make the same mistakes over and over because i love him but i don’t know how to be loved and he is gone and i am here and the girl down the hall loves me and i don’t know how to tell her that my heart is not available because it will always belong to the boy that showed me love only to take it away because i only know how to be in love with those who hurt me and i only know how to let temporarily lovers touch me for a night before i disappear into the wind and i only know how to be left.
i want to be loved i just never learned how to be
I've seen 3 way of interpreting the color cover: Death (obviously with how the chapter ended), Loss of Virginity (her offer to Kaneki when he's ready and /or considering sex as a way to get him to stay, and flowers used in poems and literature as a symbol of a young woman's virginity, lastly (and least likely to me) pregnancy (flowers also meaning new life, the red either meaning loss virginity or childbirth going along with Touka offer of sex resulting in a One Eyed Prince/Princess)
do u think this chapter is a death flag for touka?
do you think the blood splatter on the colour page might be hinting that mutsuki might stab touka with one of her knives or something?
Idk if anyone asked this before, but there’s been death flags already marked on touka from the latest chapter and I just want to know you’re opinion and what you think. Considering how the chapter ended, I’m really worried and concerned for her.
Hi! So according to the colored page of latest chapter. I guess you’ve seen the 3 possibilities of what might happen to Touka. I would like to hear what you think about it. I highly doubt that she would die, Ishida sensei doesn’t kill characters lightly especially if it doesn’t serve the story (which I think is applied on Touka right now). Also her expression in the picture doesn’t imply bad thing happening, but more like she’s happy? I mean even if she were to die I don’t think it will be now..
Dude the stain on toukas stomach kinda looks like a ukaku kagune. What if the color page is implying pregnancy?
rebeccastarlight: The blood splatter on the cover page it also looks like she’s going to die from childbirth
I wasn’t really a believer of the cover page implying that Touka became pregnant, but I recently saw a reddit post about it. [You can probably find it on the front page.] So anyways, it talked about the poem Ishida made a year ago, “Her womb smelled like it was burnt”. Bad sign already, but if you go through the translated lyrics its even worse. It also straightforwardly says the children meant to be born, had died. Do you think that relates to whats happening now? ItAlsoWouldLeadToParallelling
Wow, this is a really popular question, huh? Well, really it’s two and a half questions: 1) Will Touka die next chapter? 2) Will Touka get pregnant? 2.5) Will it end tragically? But since they’re all related to the cover picture, I’ll answer them all here before saying what I think is going to happen.
Q: Will Touka die next chapter?
A: No way Jose. If I’ve learnt anything from all that I’ve ever read, watched or played, it’s that female deuteragonists are IMMORTAL. Even more so than protagonists on some occasions. Don’t worry about the death flags, because this arc will be a parallel of the original Anteiku Raid arc, and you know who had a ton of death flags back then and who Touka has been paralleling since the start of :re? Old man Yoshimura! Who, despite it all, is still alive (if not kickin’). Touka won’t die - it’s far more likely that she’s going to get captured like her predecessor, probably as bait for Kaneki.
Q: Will Touka get pregnant, and will it end in tragedy?
A: Unlikely. That would require a 9-month timeskip to pay off, and things are way too hectic in the story right now to allow for something like that. The alternative would be that it’s foreshadowing for the epilogue, but it seems a bit strange to do that so early on and before Kaneki and Touka have even done the deed. It’s also not something that really needs to be foreshadowed because it would be part of the denouement rather than the actual plot. I don’t think it’s ukaku kagune since Ishida always draws blood with artistic flair in his colour art, and the drops over her breasts are unmistakably blood. As for the flowers, those are Kaneki’s signature flower, sweet olives, and they represent him.
Where the stillbirth/death in childbirth theories are concerned, I really doubt Ishida would kill off Touka so needlessly in the story’s epilogue of all places, and killing the baby would be equally pointless as we’ve seen Kuzen and Ukina (moar parallels) manage it. As one of these anons has already said, Ishida always has a point to his tragedy; he wouldn’t just throw either of those things in at the story’s conclusion for the sake of squeezing our tear ducts, especially since it would have nothing to do with the plotline of Tokyo Ghoul and, again, an epilogue is supposed to unwind tension rather than wrack it up.
What I think is going to happen
I think the blood on her stomach is indicative of a wound inflicted by Mutsuki. But it’s not just going to be any wound that’ll regenerate in a week - I think that out of jealousy, Mutsuki is going to damage Touka’s womb beyond repair. Since Ghouls have high-speed regenerative abilities, the only way to ensure that the womb won’t grow back would be to tear it out of her body, or maybe even eat it (we’ve already seen Mutsuki feed from bodies, and it could serve to parallel Ayato eating her kakuhou in the original series). Sexual mutilation would fit Mutsuki’s parallels with Torso and Nutcracker, and Kaneki and Touka talking about sex foreshadows that specific calamity more than a general death - especially since we’ve seen how good Touka is with kids in Ch 120. It also allows the aforementioned poem to fit in -
“The children who were meant to be born, died” - referring to Touka’s ability to reproduce being robbed from her.
So I think sad times are ahead for Touka, but she will live on. And isn’t Hinami kind of her and Kaneki’s kid already?
Characters/Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader, Sam (mentioned)
Word Count: 2030
Warnings: Some kissing, implied future smut.
Summary: It’s the final part in the series, I don’t want to spoil anything!
Author’s Note: Wow, the final part! I can’t thank you guys enough for all the sweet things you’ve said about this series, I had a great time writing it, and I hope the final part is everything you were hoping it would be! And I’m sorry if the ending feels a little rushed, I was pressed for time this weekend. Enjoy, guys :)
If you would like to read any of my other fics please check out myMasterlist!
*Gif is not mine, all gifs used on my blog are from Google Images.*
After eating another pathetic excuse for dinner with the boys and deciding where you were headed next - deeming it a pointless trip to have come so far and only do one hunt in the area - you gathered your things, the second motel key off the table, and limped out of the room to go find your own. Which was, as it turns out, even smaller and more frigid than the last one.
The cold air hit you like a brick as you stumbled out of the motel room, using the wall for support and dragging your duffle bag behind you through the freshly fallen snow. Dean had, of course, tried to help you with your bag and get you safely to your new room, but you’d turned down his offer and opted to do it yourself, your newly stitched leg screaming in protest with every clumsy step. When you got to your lonely little room you collapsed on the bed with a groan.
Ever since you had started hunting with the boys you’d always gotten your own room, every time without fail, and it never fazed you in the least. You enjoyed the quiet, gratefully took the seldom found privacy, and couldn’t imagine a worse fate than having to share an already cramped and more often than not dirty motel bathroom with two men. You were happy with the arrangement – or, as happy as a hunter could be when bouncing around from one dive to the next. But now? You just felt lonely.
The room was too quiet. You found, to your surprise, that you didn’t mind giving up some of that privacy if you were giving it in favor of being near Dean. Even sharing the amenities was something easily avoidable if you managed to wake up before the Winchesters. You liked sharing a room with them – you liked sharing a room with Dean.