#scoutedboy

since this one is three hearts, I’m going to introduce y’all to my constellation aka three of my favorite people on this website and in general tbh!!

rissa @salvatoraes​ is my baby, the cutest to ever cute, the velma to my shaggy, the rapunzel to my flynn, the stefan to my harry (our crackship babes!) aaaand she let’s me live out my dreams with josie and uncle stefan. i adore rissa okay. she writes stefan better than the tvd writers ever did so you should give her a follow for sure!!

kay @croianam​ and i instantly clicked. like we literally messaged each other to say we were going to be best friends aaaand we are. she gives me a hard time 99% of the time but i know that it’s just tough love and i give it right back. she writes a lot of amazing characters on her mumu and she writes every single one of them perfectly!!

HARRY had... become one with the bed. He had barely moved from that same fucking spot since he laid down days ago. He finally got coaxed out of it long enough to take a shower, but honestly he just kind of went through the motions of washing himself, then let the hot water scald his skin until it ran cold. Maybe it was masochistic, but he felt so fucking numb. He needed to feel something, even if it was pain. He changed into a clean set of pajamas and crawled right into the Harry shaped indent in the mattress, blanket covering most of his body. When he heard the floor creaking, he groaned dramatically. “I really need to get the fucking lock fixed on that door,” he grumbled without turning around to see who it was.

               I  went  to  the  woods  because  I wish to live                deliberately, to front only the essential facts                of life,       and see if I can learn what it had to                teach,  and not when I came to die, discover                that              I              had              not              lived.

(  he's  not  even  sure  if  he  blames  them  for  it.  )

even  in  the  zombie  apocalypse,  it  seems  cliques  still  exist.  it's  rare  forrest  gets  the  chance  or  the  courage  to  speak  to  any  of  the  other  people  here.  usually  he's  left  to  himself,  or  the  spirits  that  haunted  the  place.  there  were  more  now.  so  he's  not  sure  where  the  random  burst  of  courage  comes  from  the  day  that  he  decides  to  talk  to  grizz.  maybe  it's  because  they're  both  alone,  for  once?  or  maybe  anxiety  had  decided  to  pause  for  a  moment?  or  maybe,  (and  more  likely),  talking  to  him  was  a  terrible  idea  that  would  eventually  embarass  him  the  same  way  everything  did.

"do  you  need  help  with  that?"  he's  not  sure  he  can  help,  but  no  one  else  was  offering.

honestly….i was SO DISTURBED by that it wasn’t even funny

have I told you lately how happy I am that I met you?because I am. you are a light in my life.I’m sorry that my writing is subpar comparedto the poetry you write with grizz!!but thank you for writing with me and harry.i appreciate the heck out of you.