Summary: Sam Wesson has been wrongfully accused of murdering his college roommate. Convicted and sentenced to life without parole, he is on his way to prison when the transport van crashes, presenting him with a chance to escape. Desperate for freedom, he goes on the run. He vows that he will do whatever he has to do to stay out of prison. US Marshal Dean Winchester is on his trail. His job is simple: capture Sam and bring him back to prison. At least it started out as simple. But two unexpected things happen: he becomes attracted to the fugitive and he begins to suspect that Sam is innocent. In a clash between desire and duty, which side will win?
Well, I’ve had the files together to make a bunch of these things for a while now. I’m dead tired and maybe getting sick, so instead of stressing about art or fic, I’m spending my evening going apeshit bananas with a bunch of a softer world/transformers mashups. I figure posting them in batches of five is probably reasonable.
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This webcomic is made possible solely through reader support on Patreon and PayPal/Ko-Fi. Please consider supporting this work and thank you for keeping this webcomic running.
Laid off from my very squishy job for winter months and no promise of it opening back in spring.
Took a food sensitivity test and learned I have to follow a paleo diet to stop feeling like death.
But he’s not in pain anymore, science is amazing and this has a high rate of success, I got approved for unemployment and have interviews lined up, I finally know how to feed my body not to hate it.
The woman recorded him while he was threatening suicide? That’s fucked up. Hearing that whole recording session literally just made me fucking cry. And if anyone still stands with her after that you’re a piece of shit just as much as she is.
That is a vulnerable moment that should have never been broadcasted or listened to by anyone. And I applaud Johnny for sitting there having to relive that without knowing he was being recorded. That’s very brave.
This was long coming, I just don’t care for it nearly as much as I used to. Besides, I’ve met someone who made me reevaluate my views on discourse (pro tip: don’t fall in love with two enbies in a row?) and whether I need to be engaged in it per se? It’s difficult to explain, my stance hasn’t changed much, I just don’t care for it.
Y'all might have noticed that I haven’t engaged with much discourse lately as it is. Let’s just say my mental health didn’t take the hit of losing a support system as well as I hoped it would.
On the bright side, I don’t think I’ll try and kill myself ever again. And I’ll definitely purge much more of my online presence over time, once I have it.
I’m still going to be on this blog, don’t get me wrong. Just less.
They were right when they told me I’d know who my real friends were. And I’ll cherish these people more than I could ever before.
ALWAYS REBLOG WHEN YOU SEE SOMETHING LIKE THIS PLEASE; ITS SO MUCH MORE THAN IMPORTANT TO PEOPLE. IT MEANS EVERYTHING TO SOMEBODY AND EVEN THOUGH YOU MIGHT NOT SEE THIS IN THE SAME LIGHT, SOMEONE MIGHT. INFACT YOU REBLOGGING THIS COULD STOP SOMEONE TAKING THEIR LIFE TONIGHT.
I noticed there isn’t one here for Ireland, so
Irish free suicide helpline: 01-116 123
last time i reblogged this, i got this ask:
so please, please reblog. this could actually save a life.
warnings:blood, injury, knives, fire, death/su*c*de, cranks/zombies, reader’s death
a/n:so, this is another from my wattpad book, which can be found here. it was two parts over there, so i’ve just stuck them together for easier reading :) also… i’m sorry!! 0_0
–
(Part 1)
–
The sound of the crackling fire calms you. You stare into it, then watch as the smoke rises up into the night sky. The stars are splattered like tiny, sparkling paint spots. While you watch them, you can think of nothing else. Not the Maze. Not hunger, nor thirst. Not the ache in your legs from running up and down sand dunes. Not even WKCD.
Your group is all sleeping around you. Aside from Thomas, of course. He either doesn’t sleep at all or is on high alert: waking up at the slightest sound.
Looking around at all of them, you smile. If there were anyone in the world you’d want to go through this hell with, it’s them. These people who you now consider friends. The people who have had your back ever since you arrived at the Glade a couple of years ago.
When your eyes land on him, though… your smile grows wider.
Newt.
The glue that holds your group together, especially during those times when things get tough. The one who always seems to know just what to say. The friend that motivates us and tries to keep us all on the same page- never taking sides. There isn’t anything wrong you can say or think about Newt. Except for one little thing: being that he is apparently oblivious to the fact that you are totally and undeniably in love with him.
*
You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. You watch Newt sleep. He snores softly, and the chilly breeze brushes his hair from his eyes. You wonder what he could be dreaming about as his lids twitch.
A sudden gust of wind disturbs your peace. It makes you shiver, so you wrap your arms tighter around your body.
You move your right hand up to your left shoulder when you feel a stinging sensation there. When you make contact with damp, raised skin, your mouth falls open. You quickly stand up and take three long strides before sitting again, farther away from your friends.
Closing your eyes, you remove your left arm from your t-shirt. You touch the skin again to feel it. The pain makes you wince, but curiosity makes you ignorant of it. Your fingers run over what feels like three jagged lines. Taking a deep breath, you pull your hand away and open your eyes.
“Oh, no.” You glance behind you upon realising you had said that out loud, but it seems that no one had heard.
You glance down at your hand. Your fingertips are red with blood. How did I not notice that I was bleeding?
*
You think back to the broken escalators you ran up a few hours ago. A Crank had grabbed you just below your neck, then Newt had kicked it back: pulling you up and running with your hand in his.
I’m infected.
You cover the scratches, glancing back at your friends once more. Tears start to form in your eyes. As they run down your cheeks, the wind picks up again. It makes them cold, causing goosebumps to rise along your arms and legs. You sniffle, rubbing the back of your hand under your nose.
The crackling fire isn’t so calming any more. It feels more like a ticking clock of your remaining life.
And as the fire dies, so do I.
–
(Part 2)
–
When you hear footsteps approaching, you quickly swipe at your eyes. “H-hey.” You don’t hear an answer, so you look up to see who it is. Newt stands above you. His hand flies up to cover his mouth.
“Y/N..” You squeeze your eyes shut. He must have seen the scratches. “How.. oh god- how long have you been there?” Newt falls down beside you.
“Long enough.” You whisper, barely audible. “Shit. Newt- I- I just noticed them myself..”
“No.” His head falls onto your unmarked shoulder. “This isn’t happening.. not you.”
“Newt… I know- I know this is.. bad, but I don’t wanna become one of those.. things-”
Newt looks up with teary eyes and furrowed brows. “No- don’t ask me to do.. to do..”
“I’m not.” You look to your friends, pointing at them. “But you have to let me do it. Please. And I don’t… I don’t want them to know. At least.. until after. I can’t bear seeing them when-”
You watch Newt as his eyes wander all over your face. Never, ever had you seen him look this broken. “Y/N, I-”
His hand reaches for yours. You place your palms together. Slowly, your fingers slide between his, fitting together like a puzzle. You cover your joined hands with your free one and squeeze.
“I don’t wanna leave you either…any of you. And… I know.. I should have said this a long time ago.. but I-” You take a deep breath, gathering yourself. You look him in the eyes and smile. “I love you, Newt. I always have. Ever since you lifted me out of that box, I just had this.. feeling,” you lift a hand to cover your heart that is beating faster than ever, “right here.”
You watch a tear fall down his face, then wipe it away with your thumb. He shakes his head. “Love, how am I supposed to let you go when you say something like that?”
You giggle. You don’t mean to, but it just comes out. “I’m sorry. It’s the truth.”
*
You let an hour or two pass. You aren’t sure, as it passes by so slowly. You just sit and hold each other. Until you can’t anymore. Delaying what needs to happen won’t make it any better, and the pain worsens by the minute.
*
“Newt… It has to be now… I can already feel it spreading.”
His eyelids close for a few seconds. When they open again, he leans forward on his knees. Carefully, he puts his hands on either side of your face and then kisses your cheek. He rests his forehead against yours. “I do too, by the way… I love you.”
You pull your knife from the lowest pocket of your trousers. “Newt.. tell them I’m sorry. Please.. after.. tell them I love them all.” You nod against him before pulling away and turning around so as not to look at your love so broken.
Then you notice Thomas shifting. He sits up and looks around, and when his eyes land on the scene ahead, Thomas quickly rises. Before he can reach you to stop it, you lift the knife to your chest. You turn your head slightly in the direction of Newt and smile. “I love you… so much.” A single, final tear slides along your face as you close your eyes and clutch the knife tighter. “I’ll be looking over you.”
**
Newt catches your body and gently shuts your eyes. He chokes on a sob as he kisses both of your cheeks in turn and then whispers, “I’ll see you soon, love.”
**
He spends the rest of the night clinging to your body. He brushes hairs from your face and stares into the fire. Only small flames flicker now, the light only barely revealing the details of your face. Embers float around, rising up and then disappearing as they descend and disintegrate into nothingness.
