i have no idea how i haven’t lost followers during my giant hiatus but i’m actually really touched that ya’ll have stuck through it.

 toast doesn’t actually want to speak to poison, she doesn’t trust her or anyone  who actually believes immortan joe is something other than a vile man. it has  grown apparent to toast though that,     poison - margarethe; whoever she was  now; was merely trying to survive. it was sad.   ‘were you around before the end?’

 ‘...you look better without the powder and the grease.’

 ‘do you even know where you’re going? that’s buzzard’s territory. c’mon  the citadel’s safe. you can trust me.’

like this for a short starter.

sorry i’ve been so inactive over here. i’ll have replies up within the next couple days. ; m ;

 zwhacking; addison carver of z-nation ( semi-active )

 atrcnach; indie non-dovahkiin skyrim oc ( semi-active )

 photographcr; indie bully/gta-verse oc ( active )

      HIS eyes crinkle, in lieu of a smile,                   and he nods readily.

                “ nothin’ quiet like it. “ he murmurs.

     HE feels the eyes on him, but he knows they       aren’t threatening. toast’s voice soothes the       slight anxiety still left in his shoulders, and he       tilts himself towards her slightly.

          “ no. evr’ything alright? “

the first step to getting free is to get caught.

the moment she arrives in the maw of the lion, toast has been like a skittish animal. fighting back with all she can. limbs thrashing against the imperator, against rictus, against anyone daring to get close to her. she had a taste of freedom, her lungs filled with the brutal air of the wasteland and the only time she’d go back is on her own terms, not his. toast is forced into the seat beside him, angharad’s murderer, the monster of the citadel, the false god of rotting flesh and broken bodies. she reminds him that time is not on his side. if furiosa doesn’t kill him, his own body will betray him.  the gun to her temple silences her, but she notices his finger isn’t on the trigger. he’s not going to kill her, he wants her to shut up, to be silenced. his burned little toast, burned further from the scorching, blistering sun of the wasteland. he tells her had they not decided to be foolish, angharad would still be alive. they would be living the high life, and there would be no need for his actions. he places the blame on the foolhardy toast and dag;  the outspoken ones, now that angharad was no longer a scapegoat. not that he’d dare turn on her, even in death. it finally lowers upon her silence, the memory of angharad fresh in her mind. ‘don’t act like you didn’t force this, joe.’ words she’s still not brave enough to say. ‘angharad give me your voice, give me your strength...’ no one would listen to the prayers of someone who never believed in them in the first place. when rictus and the other imperator leave, and she sees cheedo she looks to joe. he’s confident, and toast is absolutely sure that furiosa is coming. she wouldn’t allow the girls to be taken back, not when she knew how they burned. the way that joe caused them to burn. everything in the wasteland burned. it seems like forever, but furiosa is there and her face is bloody. toast lunges, wrestling for the gun from the false god. it’s only when she’s shoved away that cold metal hits the side of her face, sending her against the glass. her head bouncing off of it. stunned, she doesn’t know how to react. the pain is all consuming, but she hears it. the roar, and he’s dead. cheedo’s yelling confirms it. after all this time, toast the knowing was right once more. furiosa was going to kill him. he was never a god, just a sick man trying to build a legacy. brown eyes, filled with animosity glance to the cadaver in awe. for the first time in... she couldn’t count the days, they’d well gone over a thousand. she was truly free. her foot moves to press on the gas, nimble hands that had experienced more in the few short days now grip the wheel with confidence. she’d watched furiosa, max, even nux with the wheel. she knew how to drive the gigahorse. saliva fills her mouth, and she spits on the corpse. her eyes glancing him over once more. if angharad could see how the mighty fell. ‘mediocre,’ toast taunts to a dead man who can’t hear, the courage covers her like a blanket. she doesn’t feel afraid, there’s no need for her to be afraid of anyone anymore. the biggest monster of her life is now dead beside her. glancing into the rearview mirror she can see capable on the back. something’s wrong but she can’t stop driving... that’s when she hears rictus, he’s still alive. he’s still... there’s a crash, the noise is louder than thunder, louder than the sandstorm. glancing to the side mirror that’s hanging on by a thread her eyes widen in fear as she sees the war rig turn, rictus falling to the side as nux makes the ultimate sacrifice. dying historic on the fury road to save the prized breeders he was supposed to bring back. she wants to say the word witness, but she can’t. she can’t say anything. reluctantly, her eyes tear away to glance at the road before her.  they’re going home. they’re going to the green place. the green place that will be of the many mothers.

in a modern au toast is totally the type to be dancing around to ‘i can’t feel my face’ by the weeknd in her undies because why not? seriously though, between that and michael jackson.

Negan   took   a   few   steps   closer  as  his  men continued  to  unload  the  truck  .   Of   course  he would be  no  help ,  seeing  as  this  brilliantly trained young girl had caused a minor distraction. 

“What? Toast? You’re fuckin’ serious? ”  he  asked, wide eyed with a grin to match. “Well, Toast, you kick ass ! Like ,  my men can’t even do that type  of shit !  You  gotta  teach  them !  That  was  fuckin’ awesome , kid ! Holy shit  !  ”

 she’s not used to praise unless it’s from behind a half-dead  male with a respirator. those praises are the kind that leave  more scars than not,  praises  for vile acts that to her make  what  she’s  done  look  almost  innocent.  she  watched his  reaction, gauging it.  he  definitely didn’t seem like a threat,  though nowadays one could never be sure. she debated for  a moment, to tell him that there were men looking for her.  she decides not to, that he can handle himself.  ‘it’s not that hard, it’s just aiming and being lucky,’ toast’s  shoulders rise and fall in a shrugging way, ‘...i can try?’