Slytherin – David Bowie on full blast, either has all the
sugar or none in their coffee, perfectly messy hair, cuts up their clothes on a
whim, pin badges in denim jackets, a cigarette in a trembling hand, a graveyard
at night, the feeling of vodka burning your throat, Halloween, paranormal
youtube videos, does tarot with a normal card deck, jager bombs that are more jager than red bull.
Ravenclaw – animal rights activism, ridiculously thoughtful gifts,
learning new languages for fun, horror movies at 1am, hope, paint smudges, forgotten
tea that’s gone cold, meeting your idols, writing your own songs, political t-shirts, walking next to your bike so you can talk to your friends, pouring skittles into vodka.
Hufflepuff – hot chocolate, drunk tears, feeling festive in
September, Pancake Day, cheesy music, soft colours, scuffed boots, permanently
covered in animal fur, sweets, faded skinny jeans and plaid shirts, flour in their hair, saves empty bottles cause
they look nice.
Gryffindor – leg-ups, arm wrestles, playful teasing, undercuts,
the smell of gingerbread, eating so much takeaway you could burst, Bon Jovi,
pretending not to be a lightweight, electric guitar, “is that a dare?”, heavy
docs, late nights, climbing through windows cause you forgot your key, one
leather jacket for all occasions.
I grew up in a hick town so consider this with me: RvB farm AU
imagine the reds and blues are a bunch of farmhands who live on warring farms across the dirt road from each other in a tiny town. all of the buildings on each farm are painted their respective colors - they probably had names at some point, but now it’s just “Red Farm” and “Blue Farm”.
Sarge is really good with fixing up machinery, while Wash is ace at building structures, so it’s pretty frequent that they’ll somewhat begrudgingly make plans like “If you let us borrow your hay tedder we’ll help you put the roof on your silo.” “*grumble* Deal.”
Freckles is this big, beefy dog that’s definitely meant for guarding things, but after taking him in, Caboose has somehow convinces him to herd livestock (and occasionally the other guys lmao)
Lopez is a chunky desktop computer that Sarge put together for keeping track of ledgers, cattle registration, etc. but when he was installing the OS, he accidentally set the language to spanish, and none of them know enough of it to navigate the settings and change it to english
Sheila is the Blue Farm tractor that Caboose occasionally runs important things over with
Doc is a vet who ends up hanging out at Red Farm most of the time even when the animals are fine. They offer to give him some work as a regular farmhand while he’s there, because may as well get some work out of him while he’s there and they also half wonder if they’re the only ones that will put up with him enough to give him business because there should be more animals in town he could go see??, but anyway he’s pretty much useless at the manual labor and won’t risk doing any work that could benefit the raising of animals for food (so basically all he’s willing to do is cuddle them) so they’re finally just like ,,,nvm just don’t be underfoot
PFL is a big farm that got way too commercialized and ended up getting pretty unethical with it’s job requirements so some of the workers jumped ship. It occasionally tries to screw with Red & Blue Farms by stealing business, strong-arming the farmhands, etc., so it can monopolize on the area, but so far hasn’t been too successful
idk this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever written but
We’ve all seen the jokes about the “team mom” and “team dad”. Here’s just one take on it.
“I am not certain what the two of you hoped to accomplish with this.” Medic shook his head as he flipped the switch of the infirmary’s Medi-gun. “No matter how often Soldier insists upon it, man is not capable of unassisted flight.”
“And no, a pair of fabric wings attached to a bicycle does not qualify for assisted flight.” He added as Pyro sheepishly set down the smashed remnants of what looked to be dragon wings made from a pair of standard Mann Co. issued blankets.
Scout harrumphed from the gurney he’d been wheeled in on as he watched his femur slowly retract back into his leg under the pale light of the Medi-gun’s beam. “I donno. I think we almost had it that time. I almost cleared the electric perimeter fence!”
“And you are lucky you decided to take off from my infirmary roof. Respawn is not on right now. If I had not heard the crash…”
“Aw, Doc, it ain’t that ba-YEOW!”
“It is not that bad?” Medic’s eyebrow arched behind his glasses as he shoved the wayward femur back in the rest of the way. “I did not sign on to this assignment to play nursemaid to children.”
state of grace is for the boys and girls who make another person their religion and silver jewelry and early morning walks through the city and smelling spring in the air and the moment you realise that you are alive right now and this is all there will ever be and shards of bright stained glass and the way the light looks through them and waking up next to someone you love with the sunlight spilling through the curtains and onto their face and crisp white shirts and pretty underwear
red is for anyone who is recklessly impulsive and always wonders what would happen if they just didn’t hit the breaks and burning things with a lighter you found on the street and the way paper curls up under a flame and remembering something awful that happened a long time ago and feeling like you’ve been stabbed and brightly coloured winter coats and burning your mouth on your coffee and being so angry you burst into tears and wearing your mother’s perfume and oversized jumpers
treacherous is for the soldiers built on suburban lifestyles and nine to five routines and the people who get underneath their armor and seep into their veins like stardust and flowers that are destined to wither away but are beautiful right now and nights at restaurants and cinemas and parties that you know can’t last forever and snowflakes before they melt and light reflecting rainbows onto floorboards in your childhood bedroom
i knew you were trouble is for the jilted lover who has been left for dead one too many times and the way they rise from the ashes reborn and old songs your parents used to play that warn you about love and smirks across cafe tables and adrenaline rushes and poetry that doesn’t rhyme and taking the blame to ease the heat and the sky on an overcast day when it looks almost white and heavy doc marten boots
all too well is for everyone caged inside their own head like a songbird not allowed to fly and classic romance novels and cups of tea alone on cold mornings and crying while sat on hard bathroom tiles and marking the lowest moment in your life so far and knowing that things will get worse before they get better and old vinyls and postcards from lovers in bygone eras and red ribbons in hair and trying to enjoy doing things alone and all the letters to people you don’t know anymore kept under your bed and inside your head
22 is for anyone who stubbornly refuses to grow old and who will still be as bright and bold as times square in everyone’s memories long after they cease to exist and spontaneous adventures and metallic candy wrappers and pencil crayons and sitting up so late with your friends that everything is funny and drinks in blues and greens and pinks and tiny cocktail umbrellas and listening to old songs from your childhood and still remembering all the words and where you listened to them and sitting on kitchen sides and swinging your legs against the cabinets
i almost do is for the delicately hesitant and how moments pass through their hands like grains of sand and constantly thinking of what could have happened and now never will and unfinished paintings and when you walk into a room and suddenly forget what you even needed and daisy flower crowns made on mild spring days and fruit teas and planning your whole life out with someone who chose not to stay and empty photo albums that you bought with good intentions and letting candles burn out and lying awake thinking of the person you love an hoping they are doing the same
we are never getting back together is for the people who feel like balloons finally cut free and getting dressed up even though you aren’t going anywhere and the party you didn’t think you’d enjoy but is really the best night of your life and pastel nail varnish and carnivals and candy floss and carousel music and slowly distancing yourself from people who aren’t good for you and bright yellow shirts and people who similarly remind you of sunshine and the lengths you go to hold onto those golden people
stay stay stay is for the desperately hopeful lovers who can’t hold grudges when they’d rather hold hands and someone pressing their cold limbs on your body under the covers and bath bombs with gold glitter and slightly messy and overgrown gardens with bright flowers and weeds mixing together and novelty sunglasses and blowing bubbles and when the light glows out from behind someone’s head like the halo you’ve always known was there but have never actually seen
the last time is for the girl or boy that has no heart left because they’ve given out little bits of theirs to everyone else to make them happy but received no pieces in return and silk dresses and marble statues and wandering through art galleries and museums alone and looking at other people just as much as the art and vintage glasses frames and high ceilings and tall drinks with ice and the gravitational pull toward people who are like black holes
holy ground is for those who remember life through rose tinted glasses and the way they repaint their life to the colours of something more romantic and knee high socks and printed floral tea dresses and repainted retro furniture and ivy crawling up old buildings and the feeling you get at a concert when you realise the person you idolise is real and there and long hair slightly tousled from the wind and days at aquariums and picnics in the park
sad beautiful tragic is for everyone tied to the tracks but wishing the train would come back and foggy mornings and window seats and ripped faded jeans and chandeliers and cracked gold gilded mirrors and the way you feel loss like a physical ache and sea foam and silent rides on public transport and the beautifully planned out architecture and the shapes it makes against the sky and mournful words scrawled on white walls
the lucky one is for those who feel like nothing more than someone else’s means to an end but are really the brightest star in the sky and don’t need to be part of a constellation and wide brimmed hats and matte lipsticks and cashmere jumpers and not belonging to anyone not a person or a place or a time and lace bralets and fur coats and coffee to go in minimalist cups and rehearsing what you need to say in the bathroom and reminders scrawled on hands in biro that contrast with effortlessly manicured nails
everything has changed is for the lovers from the wrong era straight out of a john hughes film and denim jackets that drown you and rollerblading dates and diner booths and awkward slow dancing at prom and grinning like an idiot alone in your bedroom and butterflies in your stomach too perfect to digest and tulle skirts and passing notes and being someone different today to the people you have been before and will ever be again
starlight is for anyone with a mind full of clouds and shooting stars and the cautious dreamers and their silent night prayers and unfinished to do lists and promises on ring pops and emulating 1940s power couples and expensive brogues and borrowing someone else’s jacket and being thankful that the universe created something so perfect and that you got to experience it and holographic bags and scarves in hair
begin again is for those who are secretly on the run from all the things they’ve left behind and seeking a fresh start and taking up journalling to learn from yesterdays mistakes and writing in silver ink and pleated skirts that perfect to spin in and exploring your hometown and finding new things you never saw the first time and the smell of new books and filling your home with scented candles to mask their smell still on the other pillow and grass stains on white things and singing loudly and alone in your kitchen while cooking
I’m having such an awful week, but these sorts of ideas help. I didn’t read over this too closely, I’m sorry if there are any mistakes.
Words: Probably close to 7000
When Medic nervously stepped off the train into the blistering summer heat, he produced a handkerchief to wipe his brow and wondered how it could be so warm when the sun had barely risen. He immediately started counting heads.
He took roll as he set his suitcase down onto the platform. One man stuck out, fully clad in a rubber suit in spite of the sweltering temperature. The German recognized him as the pyro, the only mercenary he had met before coming to Teufort. That was only because the man had requested a private physical away from the team.
Of course, it wouldn’t matter much once Pyro had to shower with the other mercs, but he was a polite young man and Medic was eager to examine a pair of lungs that had spent years exposed to concentrated amounts of asbestos.
Near Pyro, there were two thin, tall men that seemed to have already gotten into a spat. One was clad in a burgundy suit with a matching balaclava, the other wearing a worn leather vest and a tattered hat.
Heralded by the success of Superman and Batman, the world of superheroes exploded in the late 1930s with a litany of colorful and often bizarre heroic characters, creating what is revered as The Golden Age of comic books. They defeated evil wherever it reared it’s ugly head, whether it be bloodthirsty Vampires from Pluto, repugnant Nazi jerks, or the mysterious and deadly effects of Atomic Radiation! These heroes sold books by the millions and ushered in an age of unprecedented JUSTICE. But soon, these ring a ding ding good times came to an end at the close of World War 2 as the heroes fell out of favor in the eyes of a giddy and spoiled public. It was curtains for the heroes, as the once successful publishers now faced bankruptcy and took to the giggle juice while their creations fell into the shadow realm of PUBLIC DOMAIN, a place where anyone, anywhere can use them for whatever nefarious deed their sick minds could concoct. GADZOOKS! No longer protected under the shield of copyright laws, these characters were buried and lost to the cruel hands of Father Time and the machismo of modern entertainment, as evil ran unencumbered through our streets!
BUT FEAR NOT, true believers! These heroes are back and better than ever! Reimagined by top creators in the industry, this anthology collects over 20 short stories paying homage and tribute to some of the greatest heroes and heroines lost to time with brand new, never-before-seen, exclusive tales bringing these amazing creations back to life! But don’t blow your wig, Johnny, this book is within your grasp! Get in on this here clambake and help show the world that these characters might have been buried under layers of dust, but they are NOT FORGOTTEN!
Featuring work by James Harren (Rumble, B.P.R.D., Conan), Eric Esquivel (Lego DC Superheroes, Vertigo Quarterly, Adventure Time), Ryan Cody (Doc Unknown, Heavy Metal Magazine, The Phantom), Jerry Gaylord (Bill and Ted’s Triumphant Return, Fanboy Vs Zombies, Ghostbuster/TMNT), Matt Harding (Doctor Mordrid, Popapocalypse, Styx, Madefire Studios), Angela Ahlers, Nathan Shorts (Toejam and Earl: Back in the Groove), Vincent Kukua (Image Comics), Saeed Arjumand (The Haunted Detective), Evan Limberger (Madefire Studios), Matt D. Wilson (Copernicus Jones: Robot Detective, the Supervillain’s Handbook), Rodrigo Vargas, Josh Krach, Ashley V. Robinson (Jupiter Jet, Top Cow Comics), Morgan Beem, Rica March, Jeffrey and Susan Bridges (Pendant Audio), Leonie O’Moore, Derik Hefner, Anne-Marie Webb, Andrew Steers, Edwin Lopez, Bobby Trauma, Esther Pimentel, Greg Menzie, Zakk Saam, Omar Morales (CruZader), Joel Cotejar, Paula Goulart, Jaymes Reed, Paul Plale, Andres Olveras, Gabriel Moore-Topazio (Wrought Comics, Asylum), Einar V. Másson (Bay Area Comic Anthology, Bruce the Angry Bear), Mikael Lopez, Kristian Bay Kirk, Sandra Rós Björnsdóttir (Krumla), Kevin Cuffe (Oathbound), Ricardo Lima, Jason Inman (co-host of DC All Access), Nick Robles (Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials), Casey Desilets, Malcolm Johnson (Styx, Ultrasylvania), Kevin Buckley (Madefire Studios, Cyberwulf), Jeff Leeds, Marco Maccagni (Archon, Vampblade), DC Hopkins (We Can Never Go Home, Trespasser),
Valentina Pucci (Action Lab), Angela Fato (Action Lab),
Jared Rosmarin, Eugene Young, and Dave Harding.
Reviving and re-imagining characters and stories such as The Scarlet Avenger, Atomic Tot, Terena of the Tundra, Airmale, Cannibal Planets, Lucky 13, Owlgirl, Marvelo, Black Terror, Moon Girl, Ozmar the Mystic, Super Ann, Master Mystic, Airboy, The Iron Skull, The Atomic Man, Mars Mason the Intergalactic Postman, The Black Knight, Jet Powers and more.
Trans!Dex anything. Like anything would be amazing. I dunno? Dex dealing with rumours? coffee shop AU? Kindergarten AU? Just give me my fix of trans!Dex
so i have never written a coffeeshop au before. i feel like it’s inevitable so. here we go. (also thank you for this!!! you’re honestly the fucking best). decided to go with nursey as the barista actually because im just laughing at how fucking terrible he would be at it my poor boy. should have stayed on the other side of the counter.
Nursey didn’t need a job, per se. Not for the money, anyway. It was always nice to add to his savings and the income which came in from the occasional investment and commission, but he could get by just fine without it. Still, when Chowder flies out on a family emergency to Cali the same week Shitty leaves for law school, he doesn’t complain when Bitty throws him an apron and takes him through a whirlwind training period. Bitty’s going to hire someone else, someone who actually needs the spot, but for a week or two he’s desperate. Nursey is knee deep in writers block, bored off his ass, and honestly really excited to work at a coffee shop. He’s a barista. It’s pretty rad.