#(those bitches have made it personal and so help me god i will carry that grudge)

[rollforjackass]

advocating for good omen’s place as cult fiction in class today, wish me a very don’t punch straight men

[ghostbeam]

Oblivi_n.exe | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Notes: okay wow hiiiii it’s been a long time since I’ve posted an actual fic (nearing almost a year now😬) this is something I’ve been working on for a bit. I have mech brain rot curtesy of @streimiv and @hawnks (both of whom this is dedicated to bc there’s no way I could have written this without yapping to them abt it and also mint helped me come up w the acronym for HERO’s) and we’ve all got our own mech fics in the works atm but anywayssssss this is kind of my baby atm but I hope it makes sense it’s very inspired first and foremost by pacific rim and then also NGE (mostly through consumption of YouTube vids bc I haven’t actually watched it pls don’t hate me) it’s a whole mess of things and Dabi is kind of a bitch and reader is slowly coming into herself and at the end of the day they both wanna be metal fused to one another forever (no matter how hard he denies it) also I’m not a huge computer person idk if this title makes sense so don’t make fun of me pls ok anyways I hope u like it!!!!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, pilot!Dabi x handler!reader, there’s no explicit sexual content in this part, not even a kiss sorry guys, mentions of robot gore (exposed wires, insides described as guts), brief descriptions of being trapped inside a small space, descriptions of burning while inside said space, mention of surgery to fashion a metal jaw onto someone, mentions of child abuse (nothing graphic just allusions to the todoroki family and touya’s past), angst, many run on sentences, a small cliff hanger

Words: 7.9k

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 (coming soon)

You are nothing without your machine.

It’s the first rule, the first thing beaten into his brain by his father. You carry the burden of the mech alone, or you’re weak. You don’t exist. 

U.A. raises the best and brightest pilots, navigators, mechanics, and handlers, each one carefully trained to ensure the most important outcome: winning. It should be protection. It should be defense. But if Touya has learned anything at all, it’s that winning means glory. It means worship. It means HERO’s (Human Engineered Robotic Objects) are saints, and pilots are gods. 

 Touya used to be one of those best and brightest before his accident. 

First son to Enji Todoroki, Touya was supposed to be the golden child, the first Todoroki to pilot without a handler. He was supposed to carry the burden alone, something his father couldn’t do, something only one man has ever actually been capable of. 

But Touya is born weak, bad bones, a brain unable to handle all that the mech needs to unload onto it. One too many accidents results in him being expelled from the pilot program, his HERO discarded and collecting dust in its pod, and Touya is promptly transferred to mechanics. 

It should have been a smooth transition. If one kid can’t handle it, the next will. Because they have to. 

He doesn’t take the news well. It’s a fit of tears, a persistent fight, unable to accept the loss of his machine—of his body. Because Touya loves it. What he lacks in strength, he makes up for in pure passion, and despite being unable to handle the burden, there’s no denying that he’s good. He’s almost perfect. 

But almost is not enough for Enji Todoroki, and no matter how hard Touya tries, he’s made up his mind. 

After months of mechanics, Touya makes a decision. When the next fleet of HERO’s is deployed for the next kaiju battle, Touya sneaks in among the chaos, tucked neatly inside the chest of his machine where he belongs. It doesn’t take long for things to go south, for Touya to get caught in the crossfire, losing control of his mech and burning from the inside out. 

It should be an excruciating death, stuck inside a machine made for war, fire raining from above as a battle continues on outside without him. 

But he survives, because what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in resilience, and his mech is programed with solutions to every situation. He’s stuck inside for months before he’s found.

Tomura Shigaraki rescues him, pries open the chest of his mech and pulls him from inside. His group feeds him, takes him in, fashions a new jaw for him made from the metal of his mech, and allows him the decision to join their cause or go back home. 

And since there’s no home to go back to, Touya finds his footing with the league and becomes one of their top pilots. One who vehemently resists any and all handlers.

…

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Following closely behind Tenko, formerly Tomura, he quickly explains to you the in’s and out’s of the pilot/handler relationship, along with a warning about Dabi’s resentment toward the whole idea. You try to keep up, but he talks quickly and uses his hands a lot. Even so, you can tell he’s a natural leader, something he had to grow into after overthrowing the man who raised him. His story is a tragic one, and it resonates with you because Tenko came out the other side stronger. Now, the league is a community with a cause, one you really believe in. Even if you and Dabi aren’t the right fit, you still have a place here. 

You follow Tenko into what he calls the garage, a large floor of the abandoned academy that serves as the league’s base, this part of it full of HERO’s and mechanics all focused on the machines in front of them. It’s completely different from how HERO’s were worked on at UA, where you grew up, and even the PLF didn’t have one dedicated floor to this sort of work. You can feel the energy of the room buzzing on your skin, music blasting from old radios and mechanics tossing tools towards one another in a familiar routine. Tomura leads you to Dabi and his HERO, Blue, though you’re instructed not to call it a HERO around him. With goggles over his eyes and gloved hands, he brings two wires from Blue’s ankle together, sighing at the way they spark each time they connect. 

“Dabi.” Tomura calls over the music coming from the radio hanging off of Dabi’s waist. He drops the wires and his gaze flickers toward the two of you. Pushing his goggles up to his forehead, he gives you a once over. His eyes are the brightest you’ve ever seen—kaiju blood blue—and burn scars litter his body. He’s striking in a way you’ve never seen, almost too beautiful to be human. Giving Dabi your name, Tomura explains that you’re taking over as his handler, seeing as he couldn’t keep the last one for more than a couple of days. “She’s your last handler. If you can’t keep this one, then go ahead and fry your brain. See if I care.”

“You say that every time.” Dabi calls from around sucker as Tomura walks away, leaving you alone with your new pilot. 

You just your hand out in a greeting, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Eyeing your hand, Dabi shakes his head and turns his back to you, picking the two wires back up and connecting them again, despite the same spark from before igniting between the two. He looks back up at Blue, touching his fingers to the slim lines starting at the back of her ankle and running all the way up her leg. You peak over his shoulder at the wiring, noticing that he’s connecting two of the wrong ones. 

“It’s the wrong wire.” You tell him, and he spins around to look at you, tearing his goggles from his face as he scoffs. 

“Here we go.” He sighs with a roll of his eyes, pulling the candy from his lips and tossing it onto the tool cart without a care. “Handler know-it-all bullshit. This is my mech.”  

You push passed him and grab the similarly colored wire from beside a red wire and connect it with the one in Dabi’s right hand. Blue lights up cyan through the thin lines that run along each of its limbs and torso, connecting with the two cameras within its head, which seem to blink before the light reaches them. 

In an instant, you’re being pushed up against the hard metal, a strong arm over your chest—pinning you up against the HERO. Dabi, now having discarded his goggles, looks at you full of white, hot rage. 

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He growls. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity, eyes flickering between the snarl across his lips and his angry gaze. For a beat, you both freeze, the air suddenly charged like you’re waiting for one another to strike. Snapping yourself out of his hypnotic stare, you push against his chest, forcing him to let you go. 

“If I’m going to be you’re handler, you’re going to have to trust me with her.” You remind him. He lets out a harsh laugh, like he can’t believe you would suggest such a ridiculous idea. 

“I don’t trust anything but this machine.” He speaks, turning away from you to seal up the machine’s exposed wires. It’s a challenge you’re willing to accept.

“Well, I’m here to change that.” You tell him, before turning on your heel to leave him alone. 

He thinks he’ll give you a week. 

…

One of the worst parts of being assigned a handler, Touya thinks, is the way that pilot/handler living quarters are set up. He assumes the academy, before it was abandoned and turned into a base for the league, created this sort of set up so that handlers could keep a close eye on their pilots. The handlers Touya has burned through up until now also assumed the same. 

The door that connects both the pilot’s and handler’s dorms doesn’t lock, and all of Touya’s past handlers have taken advantage of this fact. He’s been pulled out of bed far too early, pushed around and commanded and barked at. Most handlers behaved as if pilots belonged to them, which was the sentiment drilled into their brains from being thrown into such a fucked up system at a young age.—unless you were a pilot of status like a Todoroki. While he league dedicates a lot of its time to reversing these ideas, most handlers look at Touya like some kind of challenge, this arrogant pilot begging to be tamed. It never takes long for them to realize how easily he’s able to flip the switch on them. You’ll be no different.

But hours pass and you still haven’t entered. You don’t swing the door open and demand he apologize for his behavior earlier. You don’t try and punish him with training regimes, a command of a set of push ups, a schedule you expect him to follow, an extremely detailed meal plan. The entire evening comes and goes without so much as a sound on the other side of the door so he knows you’re even behind it. 

He falls asleep unnerved by this, waking up late into the night in a cold sweat, expecting you to barge in, rip the covers from his body and demand to train together. When he wakes up (peacefully) the next morning, there’s no sign of you. He rises from his bed, drinks orange juice straight from the carton and eats a candy bar for breakfast. He fiddles with the navigation screen from his mech that stopped working a couple of days ago, tools spread out on the counter in front of him. Once he’s got the thing working again, your knock sounds from the unlocked door between the two of you. He thinks this might be it, the commands he expects to fall from your lips at the ready as he swings the door open, but you stand there, nervous, hands twitching as your eyes finally meet his.

Greeted by a shirtless Touya, hair mused from sleep, cargo pants hung low on his hips, dog tags swinging against his chest, his scars on display, unashamed and proud. The sight of him knocks the breath out of you, and you clear your throat in embarrassment, hoping your state of dreaming comes off as nerves rather than lust. 

“Dabi. Or do you prefer Touya?” You smile. When he doesn’t answer, you continue. “I wanted to see if you wanted to eat breakfast together in the caf. I think we should start over. Yesterday was—”

You’re promptly cut off, “I already ate breakfast.”

With a harsh slam of the door, he leaves you stunned in your room.

You eat alone. 

When you started as a pilot, back when you’d entered UA (a few years about Touya’s accident), you went into it believing you could change the world. The exam had placed you into the position of handler, and you were assigned a pilot who had always seemed a little frightened of you despite your obvious lack of authority. Bringing the fact up to your instructors did nothing. They all assured you that this was the ideal dynamic, that the handler always had the upper hand, but you hated that feeling. You weren’t a team like you expected to be; you were urged to control your pilot. You were there to keep them in line, not to be a pillar of support. The bond was never built on trust, and the soul link was always a looming threat. No matter how many pilots you went through, the link was never held as a gift, but a prison, something you would both be stuck with for the betterment of society, a sacrifice to make. 

You’d been expelled from the handler program after guiding your pilot to help save another in the wreckage of your first battle together, resulting in the damage of your pilot’s HERO. Your pilot was okay, but the other couldn’t be saved, and you were blamed for the damage of both mech’s. 

When you found the league (or when the league found you), you were working with the PLF, but proved to be a weak handler. Every pilot you were assigned to took advantage of your optimistic outlook on the kind of relationship dynamic that pilots had with their handlers. Despite all that you had been through at UA, and with the rest of the pilots you’d been paired with after, you never gave up the hope that handlers and pilots could behave as a team, or, even better, one entity. 

Tenko had taken one look at you and demanded you’d be transferred to the league. There hadn’t been much of a choice in the matter, not that you really cared. You were miserable everywhere else. But when you arrived at the abandoned academy and taken a peak behind the kudzu covered walls where each and every area of the building acted as multiple moving parts in collaboration with one another in order to create one massive system, you realized that this was the future you imagined for yourself—and for the world you lived in.

Tenko saw something in you that day, something you aren’t sure you even see in yourself. And so Dabi was your first task, one that’s proving to be very difficult. But he doesn’t treat you like all the other pilots before had. He doesn’t use you. In fact, it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. And while that’s a problem, it’s still one you can work with. 

You’re broken from your thoughts by the sound of a voice through an overhead intercom asking for everyone to meet on the first floor of the academy at their earliest convenience. Judging by the quick movements of those around you, you figure you’d better head downstairs as soon as possible. 

The meeting on the first floor makes you very aware of just how small the league really is. While it’s definitely not a tiny organization, it’s still much smaller than both UA and the PLF. With everyone piled up like this in one group, you realize it feels more like a community, and the hum of conversation that surrounds you comforts you in a way you’ve never felt within the walls of any other academy before. 

There’s discussion about the upcoming mission, one which may be the league’s most ambitious yet; the plan to hijack a mech and kidnap a pilot may be a little unorthodox compared to the league’s past missions, but the jaded pilot they’re targeting has a high chance of joining the cause. Or that’s what they have assumed. As the bodies move and speak around you, it strikes you how different this meeting is from any other meeting you’ve ever been a part of. Tenko is less a dictator and more a wrangler for the disembodied voices of your peers. 

You don’t know much about his story, save for the vague details you’ve heard, but Tenko’s status as a lone handler is something you find yourself curious about. If he’s able to work without a pilot, why can’t you? It’s an idea you keep in your back pocket, one you think you can fall back on if things with Touya don’t work out. But you want them to work out. So badly. 

You aren’t sure what it is about him, but he’s reignited that spark inside of you. You know he’d rather you give up, and maybe the you from a couple of months ago would have, but something about him—and this place—won’t let you leave. 

As you observe the meeting, you take the time to look around the room, taking in your peers and their attentive faces as they listen to Tenko intently. You turn to your right, your eyes meeting a pair of blue ones, impossible to miss. Dabi holds your stare for what feels like ages, and when your colleagues erupt in a fit of many simultaneous discussions, you tear your eyes from his to observe the commotion. When you glance back in his direction, he’s gone. 

You don’t seem him again after that. You train with other handlers, get to know your peers a little better. Everyone else seems to be welcoming, and most offer you sympathy when they find out you’re Touya’s new handler. From what you can gather, he’s had his fair share of them, all of which have quit or left in hysterics due to his harsh nature. When you ask around about where he could be, you’re told that he’s most likely in the garage, a place you assume he’s in more often than not.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the garage. A place so completely different, so against the ideas and beliefs of any other academy you’ve been a part of, the chaos and community within is so foreign to you. You find Touya with Blue, working inside of her chest, where the cockpit is. 

“Touya!” You call up to him and watch as he peaks his head over the edge of her metal plating. Annoyance falling across his face, he jumps down from where he stands, landing hard on his feet in front of you. 

“What are you doing here?” He questions, his figure so tall and imposing above you. He’s not particularly muscular, not even all that tall compared to Tenko, but he makes you feel small regardless, in more ways than one. Rolling your shoulders back, you stare straight into his eyes, unwilling to back down. 

“I figured you wanted your space today.” You explain, as Touya moves around you to get to his rolling cart of tools, forcing you to turn toward him and follow him if you want him to hear you. “I know adjusting to a new handler is rough, and I never want to make you uncomfortable. But I was thinking we could try some of those pilot/handler bonding exercises. It might be good to start training like some of the others do.”

He drops the wrench in his hand onto his cart with a loud thud, turning around toward you with a look of disbelief on his face. “Pilot/handler bonding exercises? They really brainwashed the shit out of you at UA, huh?”

At the mention of your past academy, your eyes widen in surprise. You had no idea he knew about that. Clearing your throat in order to compose yourself, you speak again, “I left UA for a reason. I have no attachment to their methods, but you guys do the same stuff here, so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is that I never asked for a fucking handler in the first place, especially not one as eager as you.” He spits, “Sure, you’re understanding now, all that bullshit about ‘giving me space,’ but the moment you get a lick of power over me, you’ll change. You’re not different.”

“I don’t want power over you. This is an equal exchange. Pilot’s and handlers are meant to be a team—” You try and argue, but he doesn’t let you finish. 

“That’s what they told you, right? We’re a team, and as teammates, you make sacrifices. And it doesn’t matter if one of you turns into the other’s braindead dog because that’s your place.” His words hit you hard, the exact thought process you went through when leaving UA, completely disillusioned with their idea of “teamwork.” He’s right, and you know it, but since coming here, you thought that wasn’t how it had to be.

“Look, trust me, I get—” You’re cut off again.

“You went to UA! There’s no trusting you.” He scoffs, “It’s not like you’ll last here, anyway.”

“You are such a hypocrite! You’re from UA!” You retort, throwing your arms up in desperation. “You can hate me all you want. You can resist and resist and fry your brain ‘till there’s nothing left, but I believe in this shit. And you don’t get to tell me that I don’t, or tell me I’ll turn into something I worked so hard to get away from.”

Touya stands there, surprised by your outburst, completely unaware that you were capable of all of that. He doesn’t say anything back, and you roll your eyes. “So fuck you, and, by the way, her angel port is smoking.”

At your words, he turns in a rush, seeing the smoke billowing from Blue’s chest as he climbs his way up her form. Once inside his machine, he extinguishes the port and allows himself to relax. There are two things on his mind in this moment: how you could have possibly known it was the angel port without being inside of Blue’s chest and how, for the first time in a long time, he feels bad for his handler.

But for you, it’s the first time you’ve ever held your own against a pilot before, and that feels good.

…

Something feels weird.

Off, unsettling, strange.

He realizes, much to his dismay, that it’s your absence. Despite only having you around for such a short time, Touya has realized that your lack of presence now feels wrong. He hates it. He hates you. 

He can’t find you. You haven’t knocked on his door. You’re not in the caf, not the garage, not the sparring floor, not in your room. And he did check—without knocking. 

He’s not even sure how he can feel an absence. You aren’t a regular part of his life, and he never wanted you to be. But he feels all fucked up.

During training, Touya jams Blue’s halo core and she leaks vibrant neon from between her ribs. It takes him half an hour to get her reboot her system and rips one of the cables attached to the back of his suit in the process. He spends the afternoon cleaning HERO fluid off the sparring floor. 

During repairs, he shocks himself over and over while trying to fix her core, fingers burning from the sparks each time he arranges the wires inside. The cameras in her eyes won’t work from the reboot, and Blue won’t let him unlock the lens panel to fix it. It’s almost like she’s mad at him too.

He’s a complete mess. It’s your fault. He has no choice but to go looking for you. Again.

He searches every wing of the academy before concluding that you’re in your room. He barges through the joint door, spotting you at the counter in your tiny kitchen. You’re surprised by the intrusion, a frightened gasp falling from your lips as you jump in your seat. You turn toward him, prepared with angry words on your tongue, but Touya speaks first.

“You’re not getting an apology out of me, so don’t expect it.” He begins, moving to stand in front of your swiveling kitchen stool as he looks down at you. “But I’m willing to be civil with you, so we don’t have to do this shit anymore.”

You’re not exactly sure what “this shit” is, but Touya looks a little worse for wear at the moment, so you don’t question it. He places a tray from the caf down in front of you that you hadn’t noticed in his hands upon arrival, says nothing else, and turns to leave the room. After shutting your joint door, you look down at the tray of food, noticing one of his suckers placed onto a vacant compartment of the tray. 

You’re greeted the next morning with a knock on your door, Touya dressed in his pilot’s suit on the other side as you swing the door open. “C’mon. You’re gonna watch me train today.”

You watch him turn around to leave, expecting you to follow. You rush to pull on your combat boots and grip your dog tags in your fist as you rush to catch up to him. He doesn’t spare you a glance as you fall into step beside him, taking a look around his dorm before he leads you through the exit door. 

“You need to get a feel for my fighting style.” He explains as you walk down the corridor. “I’m not saying I’ll listen to you when it comes down to it, but it’s important for you to know.”

You nod, agreeing that you should definitely observe him inside of his HERO. By understanding his moves, you’ll be able to understand the way he thinks, and you’ll be able to help him in actual combat if needed. He’s already said he won’t listen to you, but it won’t stop you from trying. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you, and you stop with him. 

“If we’re gonna do this, it’ll be on my terms. I’m not your dog.” He tells you, seriously. He eye’s you up and down, taking in your expression as you nod at his words. “If anything, you’re mine.”

He begins walking again, leaving you in your spot, irritation filling your chest as you watch him, smug. “Asshole.” You curse under your breath.

“What’d you say?” He barks, turning to look at you abruptly.

“You’re an asshole.” You speak louder. He walks back toward you, making sure to tower over you intimidatingly as he looks down at you in annoyance. His eyes flicker down to the tags around your neck before hooking a finger on the chain and pulling you closer. 

“Watch it.” He drops the chain and walks away again. 

You follow him to the sparring floor, and he shows you where to go to watch. Stood behind a large window that looks over the sparring area, other members of the base watch the HERO’s engage in combat below. You spot Tenko and he motions for you to stand beside him. 

“I knew he’d warm up to you.” He comments. The last of the previous battle finishes and you watch the two enormous machines retreat to the sides of the area, their pilots emerging from their chests with their handlers rushing to the bottom of the mech’s in support. 

“He hasn’t. He’s not.” You shake your head. You aren’t sure why you deny it, if it’s some way to keep your expectations low or if there’s some kind of embarrassment aspect to the whole thing. Whatever is happening between you and Touya feels intimate and private, something that the two of you need to figure out for yourselves, not something meant for the eyes of others.

“Hm. Okay.” Tenko shrugs. “Guess not.”

You hadn’t noticed Touya enter his mech at all. You see the swing of one giant mechanic arm, too close to the window you stand behind, and you’ve shifted your full attention to the scene at hand. 

The enormity of the room surprises you, despite the fact that you had seen it just moments before. But when you’re truly looking at it, watching these huge machines go at each other, the way the ground shakes, the leaves outside shake, the deep forrest clear in view from the wall that opens out to the greenery (the lack of a wall is likely from the academy’s abandoned state, but it’s a good feature to have on the sparring floor when giant robots are toppled over onto various surfaces).

The way Blue moves is electric, mechanic movements almost feel fluid with the way that Touya pilots her, easily dodging attacks from their opponent and moving around them in the most graceful way a giant machine can. It’s beautiful, unlike any fighting style you’ve ever seen in a HERO before. 

“He’s showing off for you.” Tenko observes from beside you. You don’t argue with him, only because you can’t dispute it. This is your first time seeing him in action. It makes your heart beat out of your chest. There’s this ache like you should be inside with him, cables connected to both of you, tucked neatly inside of Blue together. 

It doesn’t take him long to get his opponent on their back, the heavy thump against the floor jostling the ant-like figures on the ground below, handlers waiting for their pilots to finish. It goes on like this for a while, his training, using different methods of combat and winning each time. He’s amazing, and you can tell why his reputation is the way it is, second only to Tenko, who you have yet to see in action. 

When he finishes his last session, you watch Blue walk to the edge of the room, and Touya emerges from her chest, jumping the long way down her body without any issue. You watch as he looks toward the window you’re behind. He waves at you, an acknowledgment of your presence, and you wave back, though you aren’t sure he can actually see you.

It’s the beginning of everything for the two of you. You think Tenko was right.

He lets you stay with him afterwards while he does maintenance on Blue. He helps you climb up the path to her chest, hauling you over the edge to sit inside with him. He turns around abruptly, holding a hand up before allowing you to walk any further.

“Do not touch anything.” He warns, completely serious, before letting his hand fall and allowing you further into the cockpit. You take in your surroundings, the guts of his machine, analyzing the different control panels and screens that line the interior. You can tell he takes good care of her, and he spends a lot of time in here. It looks lived in, stickers stuck to metal plating and pieces of him all over. He’s made a second home in between the ribs of his mech. You feel a little jealous, though you aren’t sure of what. 

The two of you sit against the left side of Blue’s interior, waiting for her updates to finish, the loading screen on each of her monitors display a fire graphic that grows with the increasing percentage on screen. Between you and Touya sits an opened bag of sour gummies, which Touya picks out the lemon flavor and drops the candy in your palm with each new handful he gathers. 

“How do you know all this stuff?” He questions around a mouthful of sour cherry, “Like, the real names for things, where stuff goes, how to fix them. That day with the wires…”

“I spent a lot of time around mechanics at UA, and then also at the PLF.” You explain, picking the yellow colored candy from his open palm as you speak. “I couldn’t connect with other handlers. I didn’t like how they thought, or how they viewed the pilot/handler relationship. Mechanics were mostly neutral, and they loved these machines like nothing else. They reminded me of why I joined UA in the first place.”

“Hm.” He nods, thinking about your past. “Well, I guess if you spent so much time around actual professionals…I could maybe use your help sometimes in the garage.”

“Really?” You question excitedly, a spark lighting up your eyes as you swerve your head toward him. He feels something tight in his chest at the sight.

“Yes, but only on the outside. I don’t want you messing with her insides, yet.” He establishes. “And never alone. I have to be there at all times.”

“Of course, yes, oh my god. Touya!” You smile, gripping his shoulder firmly, a gesture of thanks, communication of how much his trust means to you. “I’ll be so careful with her, I promise.”

“Yeah, well, you have no other choice.” He shrugs, throwing another pile of candy in his mouth. “I’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”

You take the threat seriously, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s realized that you’ve wormed your way into his life and he hadn’t even noticed just how entangled you were now. 

As the weeks go by, you spend a lot more time together. You work on blue together, and you rest inside of her chest, sometimes allowing yourself to drift off against his shoulder on especially tiring days. He sits beside you in the caf, and while he doesn’t always say much, the feeling of his arm against yours is comforting. You can tell people are starting to notice, and they’re starting to talk. You’re being dubbed someone who’s tamed him, but you know how far from the truth that is. 

Despite your differences and the petty arguments that come up when Touya feels like you’re intruding on his independence, you’re growing attached. You wonder if he is, too.

…

Spending time together in the garage becomes the new normal for the two of you. Being in each other’s dorms feels far too intimate, so you always meet in the garage. This way, one of you is always busy doing something with your hands. There’s no room for any strange feelings in the pit of your stomach to seep in. 

You sit in the crook of Blue’s neck, watching Touya as he repairs the lenses in her “eyes.” Blue has three pairs of eyes; in her head, her chest, and down near her hips, which all footage is projected onto monitors inside the cockpit so that Touya has a full view of what’s in front of him. 

He’s so peaceful while he works, you’ve noticed, almost like he goes somewhere else completely. It’s a part of him you don’t think many people get to see, a piece of him just for you, and you want to be selfish with it.

“Can I ask you something?” You question, leaning your head back against the metal. “But you can’t get mad.”

He looks up at you, still fiddling with a lens, a mocking look on his face. “I’m not making any promises.”

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the possible fallout of the question you’re about to ask, “What do you think about the soul link?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d never do it.”

You nod your head in understanding, “yeah, I get it. It’s weird, right? The idea that someone else would be inside your brain.”

“It’s fucking invasive.” He says.

“You know, at UA it always felt like a threat, you know. Like, it was a way for a handler to control their pilot, not a tool or a bond like it should be.” You begin, thinking back to how you viewed the soul link back then. You didn’t like how the bond was presented as this power that a handler holds over their pilot, a threat to keep their pilot in line. But, you could understand how the link could be used for good. “But since coming here, I can tell it’s not all bad. People trust each other here. I mean, there’s obviously some people who abuse it, but, for the most part, everyone seems to understand what it really means to be a pilot and a handler.”

You’re mostly just thinking out loud, but Touya doesn’t say anything to your ramblings. He continues to work on the lenses, and you can gather that he doesn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. But you can’t let it go, yet. There’s something you’ve been worried about since you met him.

“And what about…your brain? They say when a handler and a pilot don’t complete the soul link, the pilot will eventually fry their brain.” You can’t help it. You think about it all the time, what will happen when he can’t take it anymore. The closer you get to him, the realer it feels. “Are you ever worried about that?”

He looks at you, an expression you can’t quite make out fall across his face as he stares. It’s almost soft, the way he looks at you in this moment. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

The truth is, this is a reality Touya has accepted. He’s not afraid to die, and he never has been. He’ll probably die inside of Blue, and he has no problem with that fact. He doesn’t need to be around for long, just enough to show his dad what he’s capable of.

“C’mon.” You stare. “That’s not fair.”

“Shit. I left some of the screws for this in my dorm.” He curses. He looks where you lounge, tucked into Blue’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on her, okay?”

You watch him jump down, much higher than his usual height at her chest, but he lands anyway. He doesn’t turn to look back at you as he jogs away. You climb up the side of Blue, and look at the lenses in her head. They’re already repaired, and you know Touya used the excuse of missing screw just so he wouldn’t have to talk about the soul link.

But it’s the first time he’s ever left you alone with Blue before. 

…

As the mission draws closer, Touya throws himself into training. You’re on the training floor with him most days, standing behind that big glass panel as you watch him spar with his peers. He still doesn’t let you down on the floor with him until he’s full out of Blue and close enough to the edge of the sparring floor to get to you. You’re not allowed in the actual training area, and even though he says he doesn’t want you clinging to him, it’s really because he wants to keep you safe. Seeing your human body near the giant machines that are HERO’s makes him want to grab you and keep you inside of Blue’s chest forever. 

You can tell all the training is taking a toll on him. With an excess of headaches and the occasional nosebleed, you continuously get into arguments about him cutting back on training inside of Blue. There are other ways for him to prepare that don’t involve his fragile brain being hooked up to an entity that takes so much. He doesn’t listen.

Later and later into the night, as your fellow pilots and handlers disperse and return to their rooms to sleep, Touya stays inside of Blue, testing her movements and sparring against test dummies and obstacles. Once you and Touya are the only two left on the sparring floor, you speak into the intercom attached to your head.

“Touya, I think you should take a break.” You tell him, “It’s late. Get some rest and then we can pick it back up in the morning.”

There’s a pause, then, “I’m gonna stay for another hour. Get some sleep. I’ll be done soon.”

“No, Touya. You’ve been at it for hours. You barely took a break for dinner. C’mon.” 

“You know, you sound awfully like a handler trying to tell their pilot what to do.” He teases, but you can hear the irritation in his voice.

“You are insufferable. I’m worried about you.” You groan.

“I’m fine. Go sleep.” He insists.

“If I find out you aren’t out of here in an hour—” Your line is promptly cut off, leaving behind static in your ear. You sigh and throw your com to the side. You hope he’s telling the truth.

With one last look at Blue, you make your way out of the training floor and find your way back to your dorm. 

Touya doesn’t answer the door when you knock the next morning. With a frustrated groan, you leave your dorm and head to the training floor, assuming he woke up early to get some extra hours in. The closer you get the the floor, you notice other members of the base rushing in front of you. Feeling panicked, you pick up the pace, jogging toward the training room to make sure something isn’t wrong. You collide with a body in front of you, nearly falling to the floor as you steady yourself. Toga stands in front of you, her cheeks red and eyes glossy as she explains something your mind can’t catch up to understand. The only thing you recognize is his name, and you’re running toward the training floor in an instant. 

You watch as Blue stomps around the area, her arms swinging in all directions, losing her footing as she moves. Knowing you can’t do anything on the floor, you make your way up to the overlook, finding Tenko yelling into your intercom. 

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” You ask him, pulling the headset off of his head and placing it on yours instead. 

“He’s out of fucking control. He won’t answer. I don’t even think he’s conscious in there.” He tells you, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots in anxiety. “You’re not linked yet, are you?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes in frustration as you try to think. You know it’s the only way. You have to take some of the burden off of him, make him share it with you. It’s the only way he’ll survive right now. “Do you think you can get into Decay right now and knock him down somehow?”

He hesitates, “I can get inside. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to touch him at all.”

“You have to.” You plead, desperately. “I just need him down for ten seconds, tops. As long as I can get inside of her, I can save him.”

He looks at you like you’re insane, and maybe you are. But you know you can’t live with yourself if you don’t try something. Tenko nods.

“I can do it.” He tells you. You rush passed him, following the stairs down to the training area. You feel Tenk grab your wrist firmly. “You bring him back, okay?”

“I will.” You nod. 

He dodges Blue’s movements, weaving between her legs as he finally makes it to Decay. It takes a few moments for him to connect, but he goes straight for Blue. You watch the giant machines fight one another, but it’s clear that Blue’s lack of control hinders much of her ability. She needs Touya just as much as he needs her. It’s tough for Decay to dodge her swinging arms, but Tenko manages to knock her down quickly.

The fall shakes the room, but you waste no time running for Blue. Climbing over the side of her, you manage to touch your thumb to the pad on the outside to open her chest up. She begins to stand up, and you slip down, grabbing onto a bar beneath her ribcage. You let out a frustrated groan as you try to pull yourself up over the edge of the cockpit. Finally making it over, you see Touya sitting there, still connected to his pilot’s chair, eyes glazed over and blood gushing from his nose. You push the button that closes the panel in Blue’s chest, and you’re suddenly alone with him. 

Touya’s body is being jerked around by the movement of the mech, and you hang onto the walls of her chest in order to make your way to him. You situate yourself in his lap, taking his head in your hands as you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“You fucking asshole! I told you to take a break.” You sob, resting your head against his as you try and think of what to do next. “Touya, please. Please, baby, I need to you come back. Just fucking come back so I don’t have to do this without your permission, please.”

With no response from him, you wipe your tears, coming to terms with the fact that you have to complete the soul link now, or he’ll die. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Touya. Please forgive me.”

The soul link isn’t exactly an action so much as it is a feeling, an experience. There’s no trigger for it, no way to make it happen. It just begins. 

It’s Touya, aged thirteen, wild, chubby-cheeked and happy, in the pilot’s seat of his father’s HERO. It’s his drive, his determination, his anger, his hurt. It’s the day he snuck into battle, the day he couldn’t get out, flesh burning and fusing to the metal walls of his mech, the feeling now deep in your skin. It’s you, aged fifteen, hopeful, alive, shaking hands with your first pilot. It’s your heart, much too big and much too open for your line of work, it’s your passion, your fire, every piece of you that was broken down again and again until there was nothing left. It’s Touya and it’s you, and every single bit of your souls now tied together in one big knot. 

There’s nothing but darkness. And then there’s screaming. And then you can hear everything. Every thought running through Touya’s brain right now echoes in your head as you slowly come back to yourself. He can hear the same of yours.

It’s overwhelming at first, to have two sets of thoughts in your head at the same time, but you manage to focus. You can feel an anger inside of you like you’ve never felt. It’s almost like it’s your own. You need to come back. You’ve lost control of Blue.

In an instant, you feel yourself come back to your body, now straddling Touya like before, you feel his arms shoot around you and he tucks his chin over your shoulder to pilot Blue like he’s used to doing. He pays no mind as he presses up against you, but you feel your heart rate increase at the closeness. 

He’s so close.

I have to be. You’re in my lap.

Shit. I didn’t think—

Clearly.

I can’t fucking believe you. I told you we weren’t going to do this.

You were dying!

Then you fucking let me!

You’re jostled around in his lap for a moment as he stops Blue from destroying any more of the training floor, and Touya wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady.

He gains control of her quickly, moving her toward the edge of the room. You tuck your face into his neck, not wanting to distract him and keeping your thoughts at bay so you don’t overwhelm him. He powers Blue down, severing the neural connection between the two of you, and shoves you from his lap and into the pilot’s chair like you’ve burned him. He storms out of the cockpit, climbing out of his machine and leaving you inside. You think about the argument you had within each other’s head, how Touya would have rather died than be linked to you like he is now. 

You slump against the seat, comforted by the metal cage you’ve been left inside of. 

[lowkeyrobin]

MCYT with a reader who would literally get into a fist fight for them?? Literally, if someone even looks at them wrong reader will throw hands. It's literally that meme (Random person) "GET YO FUCKING DOG BITCH" (MCYT) "it don't bite" "YES IT FUCKIN DO-" I'm sorry I'm feeling silly 😔

OH MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE THIS PROMPT AND THE REFERENCE TO THIS MEME LMFAOOO OH MY LORD BSHWJRHEJJAJW ; very vine oriented so I apologize. you threw me into a loop referencing that

MCYT ; "anytime, anywhere, I'd beat a bitches ass for you"

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, slimecicle, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language, talk of blood/injuries, physical fighting, vine cringe because I got very carried away and you can tell

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

he was one of those kids in high school that made light offensive jokes but would never fight anyone over anything, he's not a violent person at all other than in his jokes

but God forbid some random person look at you two weird in public, you're on their ass

you're more offended that they were judging Tommy at all, you couldn't care that they were judging you

"sorry, do you have a problem?" You squint your eyes at the person, "me and my boyfriend are just trying to shop and you keep following us around and staring, like, can I help you?"

just a teenage Karen

yall do take it outside when the motherfucker follows you out and begins to record you

you beat this fuckers ass to a PULP

Tommy's just holding the few bags of stuff you'd purchased staring down, jaw on the fucking floor like "Oh my God wtf do I do"

he had the vlog camera on so he kinda got it all on video before he pulled you away from the person

yall sprinted the hell away bc the security guards were running towards yall 😭😭

#neveridentified

#the person admitted guilt anyways and said they were planning to hurt you so no point in trying to track yall down for self defense

#i barely know the law shush

RANBOO

they just kind of accepted that you were like this

"I do not endorse violence unless you are y/n. I can't make them un-violent. I have tried, they're a vicious guard dog now"

hurricane Katrina? more like hurricane tortilla when you enter the building

yk the free style dance teacher vine? that'll be ranboo out in public and someone will stare at them all weird and you'll glare back

"walk away, walk away" you mumble, watching the person hurrily walk away as they see you like glaring daggers into their skull

your dynamic is the one vine that's like "Oh can I have a sip of your water?" and "It's not water or vodka, it's vinegar" "bitch what"

then you'll go make angsty edge lord posts to the one bojack horseman audio "I'm not a violent dog" and insert a clip of you beating the shit out of someone in high school

FREDDIE BADLINU

you post the "look at all those chickens" vine on your Twitter everytime you see a hate comment made for one of you

you love instigating fights w people online it's the funniest fucking thing

if you don't know how to reply to some dumbass edgelord response you'll just spam the guacamole vine until they shut up

"wait, why does y/n have so many soaps?"

"MIND YOUR FUCKIN BUISNESS DAVID"

Freddie's response to your violence is usually the saxophone seal vine. he genuinely laughs everytime he sees you fighting w someone online

sometimes you'll stream it while you wait for a response and while you're fighting online trolls who've been brainwashed by Twitter

"You're gay?!?!?!?11??11"

insert the "ms keisha dead" vine and the battle is over idk what to say

fight fire with fire I guess

NIKI NIHACHU

she hates yet loves that you'd fight ppl for her

oh, someone treated her wrong? you'll be trending on Twitter for fighting the person

#y/u/n will literally be at number 1 for a week

people edit the fight too

she appreciates it though, even though she doesn't exactly like to promote violence, she'll accept it from you

"Oh, don't worry about them, they're just a little... nervous around people sometimes"

"nervous? girl that mf is SNARLING at me"

you'll see a post that's like "me when someone tries to start shit w my s/o" and reply with the "hahaha I do that" vine

when I tell you she CACKLES reading online fights with people 😭🙏

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

"get the F off my yard!" proceeds to have to drag you away from situations where someone's actin a little funny in a /neg way

he genuinely thinks you fighting people for him is funny

he'll tell the stories on stream and to his friends like "dude they fucked this guy up, I honestly feel bad for laughing"

honestly most the time it's people victimizing themselves

like that one meme where the lady very obviously and fakely falls over that bench on LIVE TELEVISION.

he's your biggest supporter

he's the old guy from that one vine of the kid singing "Oh wait a minute mister postman" and he does the whole ass high note

"here's y/n fighting someone for idk what because they're talking to the police 😋"

you're a problem at this point

QUACKITY

you've physically fought so many wild racists for him it's crazy

he'll gladly cheer you on

"AHHHH COME GET YO DOG BRO HELP"

"Oh it don't bite"

you proceed to bite the bitch

online fights are usually responded w the purple teletubby twerking meme

"L don't be a weak ass racist pussy next time"

you fight Logan Paul for some reason??? Twitter drama mostly

don't worry quackitys there to watch

17-3 don't worry... ehehehrhahahha

when he tells you that you need to stop instigating fights you send him the "They ask you how you are but you just have to say that you're fine when you're not really fine" meme BAHDNHAHA

FOOLISH GAMERS

"YOU KNOW WHAT DUDE? IM OUTTA HERE" vine in a nutshell with you two. I can't explain this but it makes sense I swear

"whatd you do to your eyebrows?" meme except its "Whyd you fight that person!?" "I don't really know!"

Twitter fights are like "and they were roommates!" "ohmygodtheywereroomates" I swear to fucking god

you love instigating shit with Twitter trolls

when you stand up for him/reply to edgelord haters for him he replies with the "country boy I love youuuuuuu" vine

"GIVE ME YOUR FUCKIN MONEY!" vine with the law and order intro is literallt how physical fights go

let's just say some stalker edgelords tracked you guys down at the streamer awards...

HE AND PUNZ GENUINLEY CHEER YOU ON

here you go trending on Twitter again

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 4

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, bit of trauma processing, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: family discord and dealing with trauma, drugs briefly mentioned, human trafficking briefly mentioned

word count: 1.7k

Chapter Selection

I thought I was a strong, independent woman. I thought I preferred to take care of myself, that I could never be comfortable relying on others. One date with Jason had me strongly questioning those convictions. He bought the books, we had a late lunch/early dinner at the food court, wandered several stores, and talked about everything and nothing. I managed to keep him from buying every little thing I looked at, but we still ended up with several bags - all of which he insisted on carrying. Even with the bags in his hands, he managed to get his pinky wrapped around mine every time my hand was down. It was clingy, and awkward to walk, and it made me giddy. Is this feeling what everyone’s so obsessed with? … I think I get it now.

Jason drove me home that night, insisting that it was getting too dark and he didn't like the idea of me on public transit alone at night. Normally I would fight him on that, but the idea of walking home from the bus stop was doing unpleasant things to my stomach. He parked, and we took several minutes to rearrange the items in our bags.

“... I guess that’s everything.” He seemed a bit disappointed.

I nodded. “Yeah, I think you're right. … Thank you, Jay, this was a lot of fun.”

He smiled softly, nodding. “I had fun too. … Can I … see you again?”

“It's a distinct possibility.” I smirked a bit. “After all, I have yet to pass judgment on your trashy romance novel selection.”

He laughed softly, groaning and rubbing his face. “I already regret suggesting that. Give it back, you can't have it.”

I held my bags away from him, giggling a bit as he pretended to try to steal them. Suddenly there was movement in the corner of my vision, and I saw a silhouette on the roof across the street. “Oh god…”

“What? What's wrong??” Jason pulled back a bit.

“There’s someone on that roof. Which one is that, can you tell?” I peered up, but with the moon behind them I couldn't see any details.

Jason turned to look too, suddenly a bit stoney. “... Looks like Red Robin and Nightwing.”

“... Two of them? Are you sure? I only see one.” He just nodded. “... Fuuuhhhck, what's happening in my stupid neighborhood?”

“Probably nothing. This isn't their patrol territory…. Or … at least, that's what I've heard.”

I raised an eyebrow, staring at him. “You've heard? … What, do they take their cars to you?”

“... Something like that. … Anyway, it's well known, this is Red Hood's part of town.”

“... You don't think they're here for him, do you? I thought they were allied now?”

Jason shook his head a bit. “Probably just trying to spy on him … nosy bitches…”

I giggled a bit at that, but couldn't help the sneaking concern in the back of my mind. If they really were here to spy on Red Hood, that would suggest he was nearby … Did he decide he wanted his shirt back after all, or was something bad happening in the area?

Jason turned to me, a gentle smile on his face. “Hey, don't worry about them. You just get inside where it's safe, ok?”

I nodded, smiling softly. “Ok, but text me when you get home.”

He nodded, chuckling, “will do. And … about seeing each other again, … how about lunch on Tuesday?”

I nodded, grinning. “Sounds good. Good night, Jay.”

“Night, Doll.” I blushed a bit, getting out of the car and into my building. He waited for me to close the door before driving away, and I headed up to my apartment.

I wasn't sure what I'd find upstairs. I hadn't told Red Hood my unit number, but it probably wouldn't be that hard for him to figure out. … Hell, the shirt might have a tracker on it.

I unlocked my door and checked every room. Nothing had moved. My clothes were still in a crumpled heap on my floor, the flannel still peaking out from under my ruined pants. It occurred to me that I had meant to pick up a replacement pair at the mall before heading home. I sat on my knees, trembling a bit as I picked up the shirt. A thorough examination didn't reveal any electronic pieces attached. It was just a normal red flannel.

I held the shirt against my chest, shaking a bit. Everything was fine. I was fine. Red Hood was one of the good guys, even if he did some really terrifying shit. I wasn't a drug dealer or a human trafficker, so he had nothing against me. He was kind to me, even. I was safe. I was safe. I was safe.

My mind slowly drifted away from that night. Thoughts of blood and fear were replaced bit by bit with Jason; his shy little smiles and cheeky grins, the feeling of his finger wrapped around mine, even the smell of his cologne. When I breathed deep I could still smell it; a rich, woody smell, with a bit of lavender, and under that was a base note I couldn't identify. Something sharp and slightly metallic. I sighed softly, deciding not to think too hard about why I was tying the shirt around my waist, and started tidying the apartment. Couldn't put the pile off forever, but I didn't have to start there…

Jason watched her go inside, waiting to make sure no creeps followed her in before the security door locked. Once he was satisfied that she was safe, he drove off, calling Dick. Straight to voicemail. He tried Tim; also straight to voicemail. Annoying, but fine. He knew where they would be headed next.

Unfortunately for them, the drive was not nearly long enough to calm him down. He pulled in to the batcave and sat on the hood of his car to watch the entrance. Eventually the pair rode in, staring at him like he was the grim reaper.

“… Heeeyy Jason! What are you doing here? Don't you have tonight off?” Tim tried to play it cool, taking his bike to its designated parking spot.

“You should be more careful, Tim. She saw you.”

“Whaaaat? I don't know what you're-”

“She. Saw. You. On that rooftop.” Jason growled a bit, clenching his fist. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to reassure her that her neighborhood was not about to be attacked without revealing too much?”

“C'mon Jaybird, we just wanted to check in!” Dick grinned, moving to pinch his cheek. “Baby Jay-Jay's first date! You can't fault us for being excited for you!”

He smacked Dick's hand. “I can and do. Don't do anything like that ever again.”

Dick hissed dramatically, pouting. “You're so mean, Jay. We just wanted to see if it was going well!”

“Stop. Spying. On me.” He growled, giving Tim a pointed glare. The younger man raised both hands in surrender and nodded.

Dick smirked as Jason opened his car door, calling out; “okaaay, but don't forget to report in to the chat. Unless you'd rather Babs check the CCTV footage at the mall for us?”

Jason froze and growled. “… Fuck….” He slammed the door shut and drove away without another word.

BatKids Group Chat:

Jason: It went well. Now everyone STOP stalking me! You're weirding her out! 😡

8:04pm

Cass: Excuse me??

8:06pm

Damian: Grayson and Drake are the only ones interested enough to bother stalking you, maybe you should focus your ire on them and not the whole family?

8:06pm

Babs: We need details, Jay!

8:07pm

Duke: Wait, what??

8:08pm

Dick: Jaybird went on a date today, Duke! Keep up!

8:09pm

Tim: With a normal human-type girl no less!

8:10pm

Damian: How normal can she be? She accepted a date with Todd after you two harassed her.

8:11pm

Cass: 🙃 … Dick, do we need to have a talk? 

8:12pm

Damian: I handled the matter at the coffee shop. (and am still waiting to be thanked, for the record Todd - the date would not have happened if I hadn't stepped in.) … But still, the girl's taste does seem questionable.

8:13pm

Dick: There was nothing to handle! We had it under control! 🙄

8:14pm

Cass: I hate to say it, but Dami does have a point - are we /sure/ she's entirely normal? There's no chance she's an undercover villain or anything?

8:14pm

Tim: Way ahead of you - background check came back clean. She's as normal as any other Gothamite.

8:15pm

Duke: So … absolutely nuts, but probably not too dangerous? 😂

8:16pm

Babs: Don’t listen to them, Jason - she's a very lucky (normal) girl!

8:17pm

Jason: You cannot be serious. You ran a background check???

8:19pm

Steph: What Babs said. Now, make with the details! 🤩

8:20pm

Dick: Of course we did - what kind of big brother would I be if I let you go out with a girl we know nothing about???

8:21pm

Jason: 😑 … This is exactly why I don't usually respond to this thread.

8:30pm

Duke: Details, man!

8:31pm

Steph: Details! Details! Details!

8:32pm

Jason: 😤 … We picked out books for each other.

8:38pm

Dick: Awww, cute!

8:39pm

Babs: … And???

8:40pm

Jason: And … She seemed a bit surprised that I was there at all?

8:43pm

Damian: Pleasantly surprised, or upset?

8:44pm

Jason: … Just … Baffled I think.

8:45pm

Tim: … How many times did you have to reschedule?

8:46pm

Jason: … A few. But I always told her with enough time so that I wouldn't be standing her up! 

8:47pm

Babs: Curious…

8:48pm

Dick: Alright everybody, recon time!

8:48pm

Jason: NO! It is NOT recon time!

8:49pm

Damian: What do we know about this girl?

8:50pm

Babs: On it!

8:50pm

Jason: No, no, NO! Stop!!!

8:51pm

Tim: Too late!

8:52pm

Jason: Uuggghh! I'm muting all of you!

8:53pm

Tim: … NOT IT TO TELL B!

8:55pm

Damian: Not it

8:56pm

Babs: Not it!

8:56pm

Cass: NOT IT!

8:57pm

Steph: Not it!!!

8:58pm

Duke: Not it!

8:58pm

Dick: …. Fuck.

9:03pm

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika 

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid

[shigayokagayama]

incomplete list of weird/interesting manga-anime discrepancies

-you know the bit where they break into the girls highschool in episode 2? yea thats chapter 56. spliced into the middle of chapter 4. its supposed to go before the bit with the ghost family as a lead up to the mogami arc with mob starting to consider evil spirits as just as much “people” as living humans are. all things considered its kind of weird how well it fits its anime placement

-ritsu in the manga gets introduced in the same chapter as teru. you dont see mobs family at all for the first few chapters. infact i dont think his parents appear until like. chapter 25????? every interaction you see between mob and any of his family is completely made up for the anime

-in the manga during the claw arc instead of reigen sending them away all the lackeys just stood there awkwardly during the fight w the scars fdnjksndkjgnd

-mogami arc got GUTTED my god. the part where the fake psychics tried to murder minori got removed, shinras role in the arc got reduced to basically nothing, they move mogamiland ritsu to a bridge like 50 feet away instead of having him walk right over mob, mob only gets beat up like twice, the cat lives, the boxcutter bit is totally removed, the fight with the spirits is made a lot more abstract and less graphic. like im glad this one took the hit instead of the separation arc bc i cant imagine that arc ever being effective as one episode but wow.

-putting the “mob finding his family dead” thing at the end of the episode instead of in the middle of a chapter where it originally was was an objectively hilarious move

-rip the scene of teru outsmarting all three claw guys and saying “say old man have you ever been tortured before” unfortunately all scenes of teru being competent are not plot relevant and must die. also teru can make shadow clones

-hey remember those weird satellite people in claw keeping the viewer updated on where all the characters were in that infinite arc?

-mob with a gun.

-mob getting briefly knocked out while fighting toichiro and dimple possessing him then getting kicked out was replaced w toichiro just throwing him out the window or somethhing???

-toichiro saying that he only kept the super five around as spare batteries and draining serizawas power getting cut was a personal affront to me

-every single emotion mob cycled through in the anime got a 100% meter. the kid was super emotionally unstable in that fight

-that old man whos house they went to whos wraith made everyone asleep that they exorcised? yea they anime team made that up. they never went to his house in the manga, he just went to spirits and such for a shoulder massage

-manga reigen got 0 money for helping the yokai dude. it wasnt on the table. also most of the stuff he was saying was lifted from a video game serizawa played which he pointed out. also serizawa thought getting arrested was a type of spell

-takenakas general meanness was significantly toned down manga takenaka was a huge bitch

-in general the alien arc was a lot funnier in the manga? like the scene where reigen crashes they had reached a dead end on an extremely narrow path and were driving in reverse while tome and takenaka were screaming at each other in the back and inukawa was 5 seconds from snapping and killing everyone in the car. these might be my favorite pages in the entire manga they as so fucking funny

-originally when tome said she wouldnt keep climbing reigen suggested mob carry her with telekinesis (which horrified her) and mob said he was too motion sick to use his powers (obvious lie) but could carry her instead which got her to get up

-mezato asking mob to sign a t shirt for the psycho helmet cult in exchange for relationship advice got cut

-i cry every day that the sequence of ???% waking up didnt get animated it set a very different tone than the anime did. the anime was like. slow build up of dread. the manga was immediately bone deep horror i was literally sitting in my room yelling “WHAT???” over and over again at my computer as i clicked through it

-shigeo and mob conversation cut down significantly, all the references to the body improvement club being mob making a new self rather than embracing who he really is and being scared that all the friends hes made wouldnt like the real him removed </3

-the scene where reigen takes his shoes off is made a lot less somber and depressing. it feels less like “oh he knows hes going to die” and more like. triumphant? in the anime

-100% shigeo kageyama is an anime addition they added specifically to ruin my “the first time we see mob 100% is to fight dimple and the last time is to stop himself from fighting dimple” observation

-anime teru generally seems like hes in a better place than manga teru? manga teru seems very melancholy and like he doesn’t really know what to do with his life or his place in the world (which seems to put shigeo off) but anime teru is like wanna go shopping ^_^ *sips tea happily*

-manga shigeo deliberately threw the cake directly in reigens face and my fury over them making this ambiguous will last until i am dead

[grimesgirll]

you like to match.

maybe it’s a remnant of the old world, back when your biggest problem was how well your outfit was received.

most of the time, you had to dress practically. whenever your group came across an untouched clothing store or cache of quality clothing, the priority was typically finding seasonally appropriate clothing and weather gear, fresh undergarments, new shoes, socks, etcetera. you rarely had the opportunity to put together a real outfit. it was all layering and just taking whatever you could carry. practicality had you collecting cargoes in every color.

rick enjoyed your style; you made an effort to look put together when you could and post-apocalypse, all it took was you finding a pair of jeans that actually fit to propel him from checking you out to tearing them off and bending you over the nearest surface.

daryl thought you were a mall rat. he takes the opportunity to make fun of you and your fashion sense while you’re out on a run.

“this is an abandoned kohl’s, not mooningdale’a or wherever the bitch from ‘friends’ worked.”

you giggle at him. “you mean bloomingdale’s?”

“whatever.”

the two of you are scavenging the former shopping center in search of any edible food, water, tools, anything for judith, just anything that could come in handy. winter coats and appropriate weather gear were pretty large priorities as well.

you thumb through racks of clothing, estimating if it suit fit the person from the group who you were mentally fitting. from flannels for carl, onesies for judith, and boxers for rick, you’re tossing your finds over your arm like an associate was about to come up and offer you a basket.

the pile you’ve accumulated is ditched on an ottoman in the shoe department when a pair of boots catches your eye.

“fuck,” you whisper low enough for daryl not to hear. the brown leather boots have you salivating at the mouth. god, you have nowhere to wear those but if you did…

you’re forced to pick your jaw up off the floor when daryl comes around.

“find anything worth bringin’ back?” his arms are full with everything from tool kits to batteries.

you shake your head. “nope, not much. i’m gonna grab a cart though,” you mention, gesturing to the haul in his arms.

“just don’t get a squeaky one in case there are any walkers lyin’ round.”

“of course!” you chirp, hand wrapping around the metal handlebar as you pry it from a line of other shopping carts.

daryl dumps his finds in and while his back is turned, you toss in the pair of boots. a layer of two of tissue paper on top seems like a good enough disguise.

then the two of you are back to walking the sales floor. you can’t help but watch daryl as he walks in front of you. your breath hitches when you notice how tightly that shirt clings to him - to his rather large arms specifically. you’re so engrossed in how he pushes the cart that you almost miss the gadget out of the corner of your eye.

suddenly you’re doing a double take and walking yourself back to the electronics section.

“you makin’ a documentary or somethin’?”

you turn over the camcorder in your hands. “maybe.” you smile at your traveling companion. “you can take me on one of your hunts and i can get some footage.”

“spook all the deer while you’re at it.”

laughing at him, you flip the screen fully open and put the recording device up to your eye. “maybe i’ll make a survival documentary. video diary or something.”

daryl is walking up to you and flipping the camera shut as soon as he notices the viewfinder trained on his groin.

“what?” you cry, immediately putting on a fake pout. “you don’t wanna make a porn with me?”

“baby, this is a kohl’s.”

you shrug. “what’s it matter? i’m sure people made porn in kohl’s before. wanna go to the dressing room?”

“i don’t think we have time for all that-,”

“ah, i think we do.”

despite his protests, you tug him away from the electronics section - camcorder in your back pocket - and make a beeline for the dressing room.

rick and daryl didn’t like you leaving alexandria without them.

most of the time they made you write them a list as opposed to letting you window shop in the wasteland yourself. so something so mundane as using a dressing room is kind of exciting to you.

the man with a hand in yours rolls the cart up to the dressing room attendant’s desk.

daryl frowns when he notices the boots under the tissue paper. “baby, the fuck’ are these?” he holds up the most gorgeous pair of boots you’ve ever seen.

your lip quivers. “the best pair of shoes i’ve seen since atlanta.”

“how the fuck are you gonna run from walkers in these?”

“uh, i won’t.” you spit.

“you mouthin’ off?”

“never.” you promise with a chuckle.

daryl just shakes his head. “put ‘em back.”

“i think i’ll keep them.”

“really?” he pushes the cart aside to stand in front of you, close enough so that you can feel his body heat radiating towards you.

you offer a playful smile. “i think you just need to see me in them first. then you’ll be convinced.”

with that, the two of you are darting into a dim dressing room - boots in hand.

it doesn’t take long for you to hear the fitting room door swinging open, announcing that rick has found you two.

“we were just discussin’ the merit of her wearing underwear.”

you’re glad the three of you are confined to the handicap dressing room. you wouldn’t want anyone to see your blush when rick gets a cocky grin on his face.

he takes in the sight of you with your jeans pushed down and his best friend next to you, another finger toying at your underwear.

“well, you know my answer.”

you don’t need to ask the constable; he’d make it law for you to go commando at all times if he could.

“yeah, i don’t think you need ‘em.” the younger man agrees.

“why is me wearing underwear such a debate?” you question with a wistful smile. “you two spend awfully more time talking about it than it off.”

“why don’t you show him your boots first?”

you lift an eyebrow, and a leg and do a little kick, still mindful of the intimate dressing room. the light falls on the posh leather boots in such a fashion that you’re forgetting you snatched them off of a shelf at kohl’s.

rick whistles. “you look great in them, darlin’. i’m curious where you think you’ll be wearin’ then though.”

shrugging, you settle back down onto the seat and begin freeing yourself from the leather brown boots. “not sure. they’re pretty to look at though.

“that they are.” rick agrees.

“why don’t you keep ‘em on?”

you raise an eyebrow. “i thought they were,” you make air quotations with your fingers, “shit boots.”

rick sniggers. “so mean to her, dare.’”

you nod, zipping a boot back up. “really.”

“i think you should apologize to the pretty lady. tell her you like her boots.”

you teeter a boot a foot above the ground invitingly. daryl falls to his feet in front of you with a frown that you know is a front. as soon as he’s faced with your inner thighs, his hands are laid out on top of them, and he’s iterating beneath you,”

“i’m sorry ‘bout your boots, baby.” he states, eager fingers inching closer to your waistband again. “i think you look fuckin’ fantastic in ‘em. but where are you gonna wear em’?”

you have an answer but as he peels back your panties and leans in to face a mere few inches from your dripping core, your response is stuck in your throat. it takes a sharp inhale to regain your thoughts when his finger and tongue begin tempting you at the same time. rick leans against the wooden paneled wall, crossing his arms at you.

“you know they’re gonna be hard to match with all your other clothes. not that you don’t have enough.” rick sighs, running a hand through his hair like he’s thinking about storage and reveling in spectating daryl touch and tease you. “you already filled up the closet last time you came out with us. you’re gonna have to call rosita over to take some of it off your hands.”

you roll your eyes. they’re telling you that you need to get rid of clothing like every other month. when it comes time for them to make you bag up anything you’re willing to part with, you typically found some way to end up on your knees or with them bending you over something. that usually gives you another month.

“i thought daryl was saying sorry.” you grumble, smooth legs kicking playfully in protest until daryl has them pinned against the seat, his tongue licking furious stripes from the top of your clit down to your aching little hole.

“baby, you’re so wet.” daryl comments, lips smacking with your slick.

“as always.” rick jeers, walking over to sit next to you. “hey, doll,” he greets into your mouth.

needy and bucking into daryl’s soft mouth, you return the kiss with a fervor that rick’s not expecting. he groans at the bruising brush of your pillowy smooth lips against his.

you’re reaching your hand to the side to grasp at him when you instead find your camcorder. remembering your original plan, you pull it forward onto rick’s lap.

he only chuckles into your mouth when you open the video camera and aim the lens on the man going to town between your legs.

“you forgive me, baby?” daryl inquires with the addition of a finger.

you nod up and down. “fuck, i forgive you, dare’. you’re so good with your mouth.”

rick’s smile turns upside down when he notices how shaky your hand is getting as daryl brings you closer to your first p.m. orgasm. he brings a steady hand up to relieve you of your cameraman duties.

the opportunity presents itself to fall back into rick so you take it. his chest is pressed snugly against your backside now as he angles the camcorder to catch the downright debaucherous scene occurring in this kohl’s dressing room.

your legs are quivering and you’re chanting daryl’s name when he removes his fingers and goes all in on your pussy.

rick clasps a hand on your mouth. “shh, honey. don’t want the others to think somethin’s wrong.”

“mhmmm,” you shudder against his hand.

the pleasure daryl’s been doling out to you comes in the form of a mind numbing orgasm that washes over your tensed form from head to toe. daryl doesn’t slow down either as you cost his face in your sweet slick. he’s licking patterns into you and you swear he’s trying to paint the alphabet across your cunt as you ride out the delicious pressure your boyfriend is treating you to.

“how are you gonna walk back to the car?” rick asks you, pulling your face gently towards his to cup your chin and engross you in another kiss. he only separates from you to pass the camcorder off to daryl and lift your thighs.

“might have to carry you.” daryl muses and begins undoing his belt.

“rick, you’re gonna fuck me, right?” you crane your neck to lock eyes with the man entering you right then and there.

“fuck, give me a moment, darlin’.” rick shakes his head as you grind against him, unable to think straight.

you’re catching your breath when you look up and notice the blue eyed man behind the somehow closed camcorder. bless him.

“i think you have the cover on,” you giggle and stretch using your tippy toes to flip it back for him.

once the red light is on your face, rick yanking your tank top off and attacking your bare chest with open mouthed kisses. the nipple he pops into his mouth pebbles even more at his touch. his mouth coupled with the all encompassing stretch you’re enduring is drawing every moan you can muster.

he cements a grip on your hips to raise you up and down on his cock in his lap. the plushnsss of your ass is making him feral as he’s met with that same pillowy softness upon every meeting with his pelvis.

daryl keeps the camera on you, rick, and the mess you’re creating in your laps. he shuffles to stand next to the seat and offers you his now nude cock which you happily take into your mouth, earning him a better angle in the process.

the camcorder captures you oohing and aahing around daryl as rick fucks the past few hours of tension out of you. nothing like justifying fucking your brains out in a dressing room on stress and performance.

the girthy man in your mouth is thinking the same thing. daryl hisses when he hits the back of your throat and you gag. he’s fucking your throat even faster once he catches sight of his dick disappearing in and out of your pretty pink lips on the screen.

like a seesaw, you rock up and down on rick. the way rick is thrusting upwards into you has you moaning pornographicly around his best friend’s length. it’s only so long before you have to give in. you’re rolling your hips frantically and making the most debauched noises around daryl.

that’s all it takes for the archer to twitch in your throat. you’re prepared to swallow but before you know it, he’s backing his cock out of your mouth and holding it directly in your face, pumping with one hand and recording in the other.

“watch out, rick,” he warns.

and just like that his cock is in front of you, spurting and coating your face.

“does that go with your outfit?”

[piratefishmama]

Crashed the wedding, Part 7

Eddie had no grand speech prepared, he had nothing, his whole job was to wing it, which was probably a good thing because anything he’d have prepared to say, would have flown right out of the metaphorical window when he saw Steve.

He’d only just managed that witty quip as he Aragon’d his way through those doors, all the breath just taken right out of him god he was still as beautiful as the day Eddie left, nine years hadn’t touched him at all. His hair still impossibly perfect, even though he’d clearly not put much effort into it for the day, his glasses still made him look like the cutest pre-school teacher ever, and the moles.

Lord have mercy on his poor soul, the moles. He was too gay for this. He just wanted to skip everything, get directly to wrapping Steve up in the cosiest of sweaters, and handing him the tastiest mug of hot cocoa like he deserved, and just cuddling him for the rest of his life.

“E-Excuse me sir, we hadn’t actually gotten to that part yet” The reverend’s voice hesitantly cut through the silence that seemed to carry on for way longer than intended. The man choosing not to mention that the senior Harringtons had instructed him to remove the offer to the guests to object from the ceremony speech citing that they wouldn’t need it.

“Yeah well, it’s not like I had a damn invitation to sit in and wait, did I?” Eddie snapped right back, shaking himself up. He had a job to do, a love of his life to rescue, and no goddamn idea as to how he was supposed to do that if Steve wasn’t reacting in any way other than just staring at him with wide-eyed, open-mouthed surprise.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Steve heard from his left, turning to find his father’s face had turned a curious shade of red in apparent anger. The man quickly turning his eye onto his son hissing “did you have something to do with this?” At him. God Steve wished. He’d have given anything to have had the courage to just pick up the damn phone and call Eddie before all this shit went down.

Nine goddamn years, he wished he’d have picked up the phone each and every single day, but he hadn’t, too many missed calls, too many excuses for him to keep trying, he’d been so sure that Eddie had just… moved on, convincing himself more and more with each failed attempt to stay in touch that maybe… maybe it was just for the best.

Eddie was famous, for something good… besides the shit that happened during Vecna’s little bitch fit, Eddie hadn’t stepped a toe out of line in nine whole years, no scandals, no drug addiction stories, no compromising paparazzi shots in the papers, he sang his songs, played his nerd games, he showed up as ‘Metal Santa’ at Children’s hospitals with the other bandmates dressed as goofy elves, giving out toys all out of his own pocket, he helped out at soup kitchens on the weekends when he wasn’t busy, did charity auctions of random shit for troubled youth charities, he was good. The only time he’d had an issue was early ’88 with a mild drinking problem but Dustin knocked some sense into him on that one and he’d cleaned up his act by September the same year.

He looked mean and scary sometimes, but nobody, not a single person could ever accuse him of being anything but good. Steve was just… Steve.

A man going nowhere, stuck in his hometown with nothing to offer him. It’d been so easy to convince himself to just stop trying. Eddie didn’t need him, Eddie probably didn’t want him, he could have anyone, why would he want him?

Steve didn’t answer his father, instead turned back to the intruder, a smile fighting at the corner of his lips as he witnessed the man telling one of the bride’s huffy aunts to pipe the fuck down. “Eddie? The hell are you doing here?” How could he let his mind force him to doubt when Eddie was right there as if he’d heard that one wish Steve had spoken only in his mind.

“Rescuing you, sweetheart, can’t say I’m the most impressive of cavalry but at least I look good, which is more than I can say for your bride, yikes ma’am you just faceplant into a cake made up entirely of makeup this morning? Not a good look, I can see where the foundation meets the rest of your neck. One word, blend.” Liar, she looked flawless, but the outraged gasp of an offended bride was worth it. The shit stirring little fucker. “It will change your life.”

“Steven—” Harriet huffed, turning to her groom expectantly “aren’t you even going to—”

“No.” Steve immediately cut her off with a short, snort of a laugh, eyes still on Eddie as the man approached, his bride immediately turning to her parents to loudly complain about the interruption, Steve tuned her out completely, he’d tuned everything out, focusing entirely on Eddie “you could have worn a shirt, man.”

“And miss the warm Indiana breeze on my nip? I think not Steven.” Steve scrunched up his nose in distaste “Stevie? Steve-o, Ooh, ooh… Estebe?”

“That means Stebe and you know it means Stebe.”

“I know but you always thought it was cute.” He was within reaching distance now, so close he could touch him, could touch him to ensure he was real, that he hadn’t just hallucinated his way through his forced vows.

“I only thought it was cute cause you actually thought it meant Steve.” He reached, Eddie’s smile widening, only for it to drop, his eyes sharpening in barely concealed rage as Harrington Sr. grabbed the arm reaching out toward Eddie.

“Don’t even think about it, Steven. You will inform your brief, and unfortunate lapse in judgement that you were mistaken, that it meant nothing, and you’re marrying Miss Reid, do not make me remind you—”

“Sit the fuck down Harrington, nobody pulled your string.” Eddie snarled leaning in close enough for the man to release his grip in surprise.

“Eddie… he’s right, I—I have to.”

“No, no you don’t, I see nobody we know here Steve, your friends, your family they’re not here… why? Why aren’t they here Steve… on what should be the happiest day of your life, why did Nancy have to shoot a security guard in the arm just to get me in?”

“Nance did what?” Was that what that noise was?

“Surprised you didn’t hear the gunshot. Karen wheeler practically shoved this monkey suit on me and shoved me out the damn door in hopes I could get you out of this, the only reason the others aren’t here is because these assholes did well enough to have it clash with everything going on in their lives.” Not him though, Eddie would have abandoned a whole damn tour, he’d have cancelled mid-gig, if necessary, Steve needed him. He needed them. “What’s stopping you from walking out of that door right now, baby? What’s doing that?”

He saw that crack in Steve’s already crumbling resolve at the soft use of an old pet name, such a simple, generic little name but it always made Steve just a little weak hearing it from Eddie. “Eddie—Eddie I’m… I can’t…”

There were whispers, people had stood up to get a closer look, nobody in that church recognised Eddie, as famous as he was, he wasn’t their kind of famous. Eddie paid them no mind, taking those last few steps, using what little courage he had left to reach up and skim his calloused fingers along that perfect jawline, thumb caressing the soft cushion of his cheek just below where his glasses perched. “You can, baby boy… my sweet little prince, you can walk right out of here with me… whatever it is Steve, we can deal with it, money? Baby I have more in pocket change than your family’s entire net worth combined, including the shit in those offshore accounts ol John here doesn’t think anyone knows about it.” Steve’s father leaned a fraction backwards in surprise, how the fuck did Munson know about that? He could move all he wanted, Eddie wasn’t paying attention to him, his soft eyes were on Steve, watching as the man let his own drift shut, leaning into the palm cupping his cheek. “Hawkins? Sweetheart… I got here in a day, I flew first class, very fancy, if anything happens, we’ve got it, we can be back here so fast whatever that freaky-ass place throws at us, we’ll be ready for it same as always… so what is it, big boy, what’s stopping you?”

Steve let his eyes open halfway, taking in the man in front of him “I’m not worth it Eddie… just… just go, it’s okay… I’ll be fine, m’always fine” so why did that smile look so sad “…I’m not worth what you’d lose if I were to leave.”

Part 9

[w4w4lycsss]

I saw you were taking requests for Hades :3

Soo...him x transmasc reader maybe? Like the reader is dysphoric n stuff sigh

And just him x a male reader in general I'm not normal abt the man ragh

SHUT UP, BOY | HADES

summary: You had resentment towards Hades because you feel that he does not validate you, which is quite the opposite and he shows it to you. pairing: Hades x male!transmasc!reader warning: gender dysphoria, body dysphoria and transphobia a/n: I'm a member of the trans umbrella! It was very nice to write it

You had gotten into the bad habit of being a very defensive boy, everything they said to you you took rudely to defend yourself, and it was a terrible way to socialize, so you didn't have many friends. No matter how villainous, macabre and twisted the VKs were, they all respected your identity and when they made fun of you they had the minimum education to respect your identity, at least.

You were angry with them because they had tripped you and you had thrown your things at the entrance to your room, a gesture that irritated your already strong character, you were just sitting on the floor picking up and releasing indirect insults to those who did not see you and collided with you .

When you are missing half of your books, someone bumps their knee into your shoulder, making you raise your head angrily to complain without receiving a response. The person is forgotten when you see Hades, yes, the god of the underworld himself and a VK walk in your direction staring at you.

The only thing you think about is quickly picking up your books before it's too late and he throws them at you again.

 A whirlpool attacks your brain, sweeping away your coherent thoughts when he finally reaches you, bending down and picking up the missing half. You didn't know whether to thank him or insult him.

“I need help with homework. I’m going to pay you back.”

SON OF A BITCH. INTERESTED. UNGRATEFUL TORCH-

You just roll your eyes and receive your books, carrying some in your arms and putting others in your bag. “First, what do you intend to pay me with?” You pause when he opens his mouth. “I'm not interested in money.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you want then?”

“Your friends stop bothering me.”

“I can’t promise they will deliver.”

“Then let them reduce it.”

He shrugged and you walked into your room, being followed by him. They were not going to comply.

After doing what many thought impossible, that is, Hades getting a good grade, he didn't stop looking for you with stupid excuses, the most common being that he was bored and couldn't find his friends or he was tired of listening to Uliana complain.

Little by little they formed what could be called 'hate friendship', which was the two of you being friends who insult each other and make unpleasant comments about each other but who at the same time help and defend each other.

Defender.

Not everyone at school was open-minded like you expected, and after a while you got used to it and just let them be as long as they didn't blurt out some personally derogatory comment for the purpose of being annoying. How had it happened to you now?

You were locked in your room, you had locked the door while you looked at yourself with contempt in the full-length mirror; You never hated yourself, you just let yourself develop and when you came of age you would do what you had to do.

You watched as your hair trailed to your elbows, embracing you in an unpleasant mess like greasy cobwebs. Your sculpted waist as if you were a porcelain doll and the curve of your legs towards your crotch made you nauseous.  Your bust wasn't exaggerated, but not all the layers of clothing in the world could hide it.

Miss. Lady. Princess.

“Y/N!” He knocked on your door hard.

“I'm not here.”

“If you don't open the door I'll burn it”

“No, you won't.” You sighed, tearing your heavy gaze away from the distorted figure in the mirror and turning the knob to let Hades in. “What happend?”

He took your arms in a paranoid manner hidden from external annoyance. “What happend? That you locked yourself in your room after an idiot has opened his mouth, that has happened.”

“Where is he now?” You furrowed your eyebrows in doubt.

"Oh, he'll probably be in the infirmary because of the beating that Hook and Maleficent will give him."

"There's no necessary."

“It is completely necessary. Are you OK? Why did you lock the door?”

You looked down. Your face did not express anything; neither tiredness, nor annoyance, nor discomfort nor sadness, it was like a blank canvas that seemed to be painted with the desperation of your mind to be someone.

“I'm fine, seriously, it was nothing.”

Hades, still unconvinced drowning in paranoia and holding your arms so tightly that his nails were beginning to print on your arms, finally hugged you, rubbing his hands down your back to give you comfort.

“You're not like the others, right?”

"What are you talking about?"

“I thought you hated me.”

"I don't understand you."

“Hades, do you see me as a boy?”

The words scratch your throat with the pain of letting them out in a broken whisper, which makes your face take on the expression of being desperate, but also of just wanting him to take care of it. He brings his leather-gloved hand up and cups your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. 

The look in his eyes is nothing but pure longing and cheesy crap you swore you hated until he started punching idiots who refused to respect you. Maybe it wasn't the most romantic thing, but the intention to dare was something new.

"You're my boy, if you wasn't like that I wouldn't have let you get as close as you are now.”

“You came to me.”

He shrugged. “It's something you hit me.”

His face gets dangerously close to yours until his lips meet yours, making your stomach jump and you leave him alone, speaking for all the times you dreamed of a happy ending full of pink hearts for Let them shut up and let you live in the very close moment.

[ae-neon]

Wait, rhys can forgive nesta because "illyrian at heart". I did some logic:

Rhys forgive Elain = Elain has no illyrian heart

Rhys couldnt forgive Nesta = Nesta has illyrian heart.

So does that mean

Rhys dislike illyrian = Rhys dislike Nesta = Rhus couldn't forgive Nesta = Nesta has illyrian Heart

He dislike illyrian when he, himself half illyrian? Not surprising but it make me thing Rhys is a High-Fae-boo (idk inspiration from try hard people wanting to be korea = koreaboo)

P/s: Please, any mathematics major, let me know if my logic is wrong

In a way yes, they all are because despite how cool and exotic sjm wants us to see the bat bitches being ⚔️ ILLYRIAN ✨ as, those benefits are exclusive to TheGoodOnes™

They get to be deadly warriors and have special clothes and sooo many siphons and huge dicks wings and they get to be ambiguously poc for white women to feel spicyyyy about

But only them and only those superficial things.

Despite being characterised by their less fortunate years, Rhys became HL at 30 and brought up Cassian and Azriel to be his overpaid helpers immediately.

That means (Amarantha years excluded) they have been the richest and most powerful people in their court for more than 400 of the 500 they have been alive

The reality of being "lesser Fae" or lower class/ bastards/ poor/ being part of a culture that glorifies war and harms it's ppl, has not really played as big a part in their lives as what sjm insists

They don't live in it, they don't deal with it, in fact, they benefit from it

They are free to not just feel their internalised racism, but allowed to physically, emotionally and mentally set themselves apart. Above.

And they spread it to their non-illyrian "family"

These men and the women they teach to mistrust and fear and hate Illyrians are the government, they have and will continue to have influence over the lives of the Illyrian ppl as a whole for CENTURIES if not FOREVER

Feyre, the High Lady, is taught to think of those people (almost third of the population, a racial minority and the poorest + most underprivileged people in the whole court) as savage brutes when the only Illyrians she personally knows are Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel themselves. She should at least love some Illyrians and their culture since appropriating it was such a big part of her healing and growth

But instead of frustration and sorrow spurring her into action to help raise Illyrian women from their oppression/ helping set up a more standardised living conditions for non-nobles/ even meeting the nobles to learn their culture and begin to find some way forward - she sighs, curses them as proud savage brutes and carries on flying around velaris in her culture vulture wings

I don't think sjm was really going for anything other than a vague "Nesta is nasty and tough, she'll be fine, I just don't like her" when she made Rhys say that but god does it reek

I don't think Nesta should be celebrated as Illyrian, even in a "good" way. She's not Illyrian. Her very nature is ominous to their culture and we should respect that. (I love Nesta but at the end of the day she is an extremely powerful high Fae who is sister to the HL, and a white woman, she won't die just because they call her a witch)

Part of this is why I wanted Cassian (who despite his problematic attitude and position, is the closest culturally to Illyria) to end up with an Illyrian woman. Centring a brown Illyrian woman as a love interest would be the closest this garbage series would ever get to acknowledging those women as important people and not just plot devices.

So, really the statement "Nesta is Illyrian at heart" or whatever he said, is like everything else surrounding the Illyrians: lazy and not well thought through, and just racist.

[glossysoap]

Besides tue point that covid has left many people literally disabled and unable to maintain a regime needed to loose weight. And there are so many diseases that keep you from exercising. Including mental health. Bes8des the point that everybody should be allowed to exist in their body regardless. I for example have hashimoto and even with my doc knowing it took ages to realise that the hormone I need is produces but I can't absorb it. Hence pretty much uncontrolled weight gain even though on paper I live on a kalorien deficit for years now. So no it's not sinple or black and white and I am struggling to see anything loveable in myself. And the fics do help on that front

tw fatphobia

at first i thought this was the fatphobic anon but after reading it, it’s clearly not. ily anon. i kinda used this as an open letter to the fatphobic anon that i recently reblogged so just know that none of this is aimed at you, anon.

see exactly. there’s so many factors to weight loss and what contributes to that, that it’s not just a black and white situation.

i love the point you made about covid because that’s so true!! not only can you become disabled as a result of it, and gyms and such also became inaccessible due to close proximity to others. and the symptoms of long covid are no joke! those disabilities that some ppl have gained from covid never went away, that goes for lung and heart conditions that they gained as a result.

and don’t even get me started on PCOS and hashimoto’s. i’m like 99% sure i have either of those, maybe both, whatever. and the way that no diet works truly drives me insane.

and if you know me, you know fatphobia is personal because i’m obviously fat but i’ve also had a record number of fatphobic comments sent my way this year, and many of it by an ex friend no less.

i’ve heard that fat people shouldn’t hike, don’t go to gyms, just stay in your house. oh, but i thought we were lazy? i thought we should work out? i thought we should be at the gym?

i’ve heard that fat people shouldn’t wear work out clothes or anything like that. anything remotely tight. i’ve heard people say “well just lose weight” when fat people bring up reasonable criticisms over the lack of sizing in any clothing.

bitch, do you just want us to be naked? do you want us to wear a plastic bag? and what if a fat person is actually working towards losing weight, what then? do they not deserve to wear clothes while they do it? and even if they’re not working towards losing weight, what the fuck do you want fat people to wear? nothing? i’m so serious.

god forbid something is catered to fat people. god forbid you skinny people feel a bit excluded because someone mentions stretch marks (which skinny people have too actually!) or a fat ass or plush hips. literally go cry me a river. everything is catered to you in the world, literally everything. you are the model standard. you are the mannequin in all the stores. you are the sizes that every store carries.

you’ll be just fine if a fic isn’t catered to you.

and you’ll be just fine if someone’s fat. it doesn’t affect you in any way. no, no matter what you say, it doesn’t. you’re not “concerned for their health” because then you’d be going around yapping in any skinny person’s ear that vapes or drinks alcohol or energy drinks or does drugs. oh but you’re not, are you?

you’ll be fine. the world will keep spinning if a fic isn’t catered to you. you’ll be fine if people are fat.

the world will keep spinning.

also, military men love fat ppl 👍

[bonebabbles]

Assorted Path of Stars: Book 6, Chapter 3 thoughts

Spotted Fur is introduced in Chapter 3. I like this guy. Falling through the void like Plankton, screaming, and I take a short break to take a sippy of Funny Young Boy Who Likes To Hunt before returning to my descent.

Generating headcanon: Spotted Fur is a distant ancestor of Ashfur and Ferncloud.

I'm taking a picture of him in my mind to use for my own rewrite projects later <3

It's also a big shame btw, like... Spotted Fur is gonna show up again in Moth Flight's Vision as someone deeply in love with Moth Flight who loves her kittens, and she still ends up sending them all away. Ancient Thrushpelt energy, but worse because there wasn't a legitimate reason to give them up.

Speaking of Moth Flight, god. Wind Runner starts yelling at her for being bad at hunting and it's rough. Moth still has her personality in this book, she hasn't unceremoniously lost it by Becoming Mother yet, so it's hard to listen to Wind Runner start ripping into a child who seems to be struggling with ADHD.

I have so many complicated feelings on Wind Runner, many of them boiling down to how I feel like her WHOLE personality is "awful bitch" in the eyes of the writers.

It makes me like her out of spite, ESPECIALLY with how Clear Sky and Gray Wind ALSO treat their kids horribly but the narrative doesn't frame it the same way.

And I see a whoooole lot more people discussing how Wind Runner Bad apropos of nothing, probably because of the framing, putting her in all their "Top 5 Worst DOTC Characters" lists while no one even remembers the times Gray Wing started ranting at Thunder. Or posting "Clear Sky Made Some Mistakes But."

Summistakes Butt Posting.

Also, there's a LOT of focus on how this group is only agreeing to help Clear Sky because his kidnapped wife is pregnant. LOTS of talk of "unborn kits" and how she's carrying "my kits" and how they all have a duty to protect the kits. Good thing he knocked her up as quickly as possible, because if she wasn't a vessel for Clear Sky's babies then no one would give a damn, I guess.

Reduced to a reward wife, pregnant, immediately kidnapped. Again, I really hope all those "haha star flower girlboss steal-ur-dad manipulator" takes are coming from people intentionally rejecting the source material, or people who didn't read it at all. Because they're COMPLETELY made up. I worry for the reading comprehension of anyone who unironically had that as a takeaway.

Chapter ends on a cringe line from Gray Wing where he goes, "Thunder always listens to reason if I'm the one reasoning with him!" yeah like how he screeched at Thunder for not wanting to reconcile with his fucking abuser and forced him to go fetch him.

I hope Gray Wing shows up and Thunder punches his face inwards, creating the forest's first persian cat.

[essaysbyciara]

princess treatment.

peace. likes, comments and reblogs are cool. you can read the rest of my essayist work here.

"You deserve princess treatment."

Do I?

I barely know how to advocate for myself. I take a lot of what is handed to me. I’m not sure that I have a fighting gene inside of my body. Maybe that’s why I’ve been taking all of this pain and torment in my life like a champ. 

I’m really a mass of soft and gooey stuff. I can’t take too much of a pounding. Talk shit, get hit. I remember my homegirl checking me for “coming off like I wanted to fight everybody.” I realize now that I used fake aggression as a defense mechanism. You can’t fuck with someone who appears ‘unfuckwittable.’ The fake thug veneer wore off years ago. If you hit me, I run away and go cry. 

I just want to cry while in the arms of someone. The person who scolded me for thinking that I didn’t deserve that good-good love and affection sadly didn’t get that far with me. I did feel safe around him. 

Until I couldn’t. 

I’m really a sweetheart. I’m as cul-de-sac, HOA as they come. I fold like church pamphlets. I’ve been hit with a hailstorm of fire and brimstone and still think that I’m not built for war. Life should’ve been took me out. I woke up yesterday in gratitude for God advocating for me when I couldn’t speak up for myself. God made the calls that I couldn’t. God aligns the stars that my eyes, too flooded with tears, couldn’t see. God cleared the pathways that my feet, heavy with guilt and shame, couldn’t traverse. And carried me. I’m an example of provision and miracle. 

I’m the strong soldier that God gave those toughest battles to. 

I still want to feel safe enough to say that I can be weak. Early-20th-century-Disney princess-weak. “Damn, I really want to save this girl” weak. 

In reality, I don’t. I just want to feel like I can honor my weakness in front of a man. I can truly fall apart. I’ve fallen apart at the hands of men for most of my life. One that’s kin to me feels like he can talk to me however he wants to because “I need to hear about myself.” I need to know that I’m this “failure” of a person who squandered her collegiate dreams away only to find herself working retail because she’s a “13 year-old in an adult’s body” who “can’t tell anyone about anything.” That I need to “eat” my failures. 

Some men feel so comfortable calling me weak, treating me as if I’m weak. I still remember the first man to call me a “bitch.” I still remember the first man who touched me when I didn’t ask to be. Disregarding my safety for their own ego. To prove that they are big and bad enough. That they are somebody. To themselves. Somebody to themselves. 

In college, I was a girl on her way to doing the thing she always wanted to do but I was so crippled by feelings of loneliness and sadness that all I wanted to do was crash and burn. But a man saved me from turning into dust. My Dad saw that I wasn’t okay. I never learned how to speak up for myself but my Dad could hear every thought and fear I had. He came and got me. 

I think that’s why I miss him so much. He treated me like his princess. He wanted to make sure I was safe. He got upset when I would put myself in situations where my personhood was in jeopardy. He cared about me. I knew that if something was wrong, I could go home. 

He set this standard that most haven’t kept. 

Yet, I know they’re out there. 

I know it when I get those texts asking me if I’m good. I know it when I get prodded to go outside and take a walk because I’m punishing myself inside these four walls of my bedroom and my damn mind. I know it when I get DMs reminding me that I’m seen and felt and heard. 

Those things keep me safe. 

My Dad wanted to name me ‘Princess.’ My Mom vetoed it. She did like a “tiara” and added a “c”. Maybe they knew I would be one of those 21st-century Disney princesses: strong, capable, determined and predestined to help save the world around her. 

And herself. 

[jackgoodfellow]

~ King of Winter and Toxic Positivity ~

I've made you all a "motivational" poster! 🥰🥰🥰

" Manifest your dream reality through sheer force of will! Anyone can do it! Pull yourself up by the bootstraps! Be a self-made king! Good things happen to good people! Get in that grindset! The only one standing in the way of your dreams is you! Anyone can do it! Nothing is impossible! Everything happens for a reason! Everything will be fine, so don't worry! You can do whatever you set your mind to! Never give up on anything! Every failure is just an opportunity in disguise! Have you tried yoga?? Have you tried supplements? Would you like to hear about an exciting new business opportunity? It's all part of God's plan! You just gotta stop fearing SUCCESS. Happiness is a choice! Delete negativity! Push every boundary! For winners, limits are merely suggestions! Lean in! Don't take no for an answer!! Anyone can do it!! "

[for those who deal with eyestrain, there's a plain-text version of the above pink and green paragraph of assorted toxic positivity slogans copied down at the bottom of the post.]

Anyway, it turns out the people who are willing to look you in the face and tell you that your oppressive burdens are in fact not that heavy at all... are people that either don't have that same burden, or people who are comfortable forcing someone else to carry it for them. - All while they proudly take the credit.

and also, he's HORRIBLE it's FANTASTIC I love him, 11/10, Evil Gay Bitch Gold Medalist, REALLY puts the MLM into mlm [the "Multi-Level-Marketing" into "man-loving-man"]

❄ ❄ ❄

More context and thoughts, if you're a media analysis nerd:

I am, however, obviously a media analysis JOCK 😅

So, the actual toxic positivity quote that I used in the image was inspired by the commentary made in these two episodes of the excellent anti-fatphobia (and therefore anti-capitalist) podcast "Maintenance Phase".

It's a two-parter on this one piece-of-shit white lady wellness influencer, and the hosts are funny and awesome and the entire catalogue of the podcast matters a lot.

[Sidenote: the episode "Is Being Fat Bad For You?" is VITAL shit. - My main takeaway has been that it's ALWAYS better to be fat than to be fatphobic. Every time.]

But the main point that is relevant here is the way this podcast helps peel back the ugly truth of a broader phenenomen:

In other words, it is notable that the kind of people who say things like "We all have the same 24 hours in a day!" are generally also people who already have the money to pay someone else to clean their house, thus literally giving them more free hours in a day, than say, the people they are paying (or underpaying) to give them that time.

And what stuck with me most from these two episodes is the absolute open disrespect that toxically positive privileged people often have for the very individuals they are relying on for all those extra hours they seem to find in a day.

Because the thing is, most of them absolutely buy their own bullshit. They HAVE to.

In order to justify the way of the world to themselves and ease their guilt over their role in it (while still maintaining all their power), they end up so good at lying to themselves that they see no irony in funding their personal business ventures with money from their wealthy parents and spouses... and then calling themselves "self-made."

Anyone can do it, after all! (There are simply certain things that are best left unsaid! Best not to be rude!) And any kind of shake to this worldview means they might just-- crumble to dust!!

And in my personal experience as a Poor Cripple [TM], those folks are champions at shaming the poor and disabled.

Folks like that might very well might very well force someone else to bear the crushing madness of their golden crown, so that they are free to build a beautiful kingdom of ice and agreeability!

They may see no issue, then, as they oh-so-benevolently relax on their throne, being waited upon and granting gifts to pretty strangers - all while pitying that nothing can be done for their poor disgusting maniac of a neighbor--except, of course, to punish them for the crimes they commit in their weak-willed madness~ 💚🩷

I. FUCKIN'. LOVE THIS SHIT, Y'ALL. GOOD WRITING. HELL YEAH.

[Not shown: the literal 6-page essay I wrote today while trying to explain FULLY and COMPLETELY why The Winter King episode matters so much to me. Turns out, in order to do that, I had to talk about the way casual ableism and classism can easily become extreme ableism and classism--and THAT got dark REAL FAST.

I didn't even finish writing it! I was headed to 8 pages at LEAST (and that's not even including talking about the wonderful artistic craftsmanship of the episode!!) when I realized that people might not reblog this as much if it included AN IN-DEPTH PERSONAL MANIFESTO ABOUT THE GRIM REALITIES OF CAPITALISM AND ABLEISM. So like... maybe that's a separate post lol]

Plain-text version of the colorful paragraph:

Manifest your dream reality through sheer force of will! Anyone can do it! Pull yourself up by the bootstraps! Be a self-made king! Good things happen to good people! Get in that grindset! The only one standing in the way of your dreams is you! Anyone can do it! Nothing is impossible! Everything happens for a reason! Everything will always be fine! You can do anything you set your mind to! Never give up on anything! Every failure is just an opportunity in disguise! Have you tried yoga? You just gotta stop fearing SUCCESS. Happiness is a choice! Delete negativity! Push every boundary! Limits are merely suggestions! Lean in! Don't take no for an answer!! Anyone can do it!!

[cerealmonster15]

🫵

HOW would your twst ocs respond to someone insulting them and trying to bully them + HOW would they respond to someone challenging them to a duel + WHAT would their fighting style be like + WHAT would a guest room trouble line be for them 👁👁

clasps my hands together. i assumed this was about char and dañarte when i first read this, but then i remembered i have a bonus twst oc fidel now so im throwing him into the ring also lksdjfdskl

ok im gonna go in a readmore bc i will probably talk a lot AS I TEND TO DO

Responding to insults/being bullied

well dañarte is a certified Little Bitch, however part of his Thing is that hes pretending to Not be a Little Bitch, so i think it's all based on the circumstance of who is around and all that. if it's in public, he will probably go the route of pretending that he's above a Petty, childish dispute 😌 but inside he IS planning revenge and also trying to blow them up with his mind. and then if he's not trying to mask his bitch boy powers he's def being snarky and passive aggressive and maybe also just straight up rude right back. he will NOT be the bigger person!!! and he does not care what people think about him.

char on the other hand is a certified Good Boy klfjdsjkfl I think he would try to be more civil with whoever's coming at him. like Oh Surely This Is A Misunderstanding Let's Talk This Out kind of deal lol. he's more of a people pleaser I think, so he might be more willing to agree to disagree and move on. i do think he'd take insults to heart tho and probably spend too much time sitting alone and Thinking About It. FESTERING.

Fidel! awoowoo boy. i think at first he might be like, sad puppy dog eyes mode, but if they keep pushing or cut too deep he might get more riled up and ready to throw down about it. and then go sulk after.

Responding to being challenged to a duel / fighting style

hmmm i think both char and dañarte are trained in fencing so if it's something like that, they might accept - oh and i guess also the magic thing. they do magic in this game. magic duels. yeah sure theyll do that too LOL. i'm thinking about those pomefiore PICK UP THE GLOVE npc guys fkdlsjfkdsl i think they would accept whatever the hell's going on there too LOL. char might attempt to reason or de-escalate first, but would ultimately accept if the person insisted, and dañarte might just go right into it lol. because he is a SHOW OFF!!!!! i am unsure how good they are but i think they'd both be at least decently skilled. they probs both have a bit of elegance to their fighting and are likely similar to each other since they grew up together as cousins, and probably learned a lot of their initial magic schooling and fencing and shit together. that and they were both rsa boys before dañarte goes to nrc.

fidel i think could get easily worked up and baited into it but since he's a first year i think he's less refined with his skills and maybe wouldnt do so well, but if it gets physical he's a Big Boy and could accidentally knock over the other person via sheer force of mass lol.

guest room trouble lines

god i still love that twst added a feature where characters just randomly get so pissed they beat the shit out of each other JKLFDJSLFKHSD

so I like that the characters get two lines, and a lot of the time they give the vibe of like one line where they more apologize and maybe admit fault, and another where theyre more defensive, depending on the person lol. so im going to give them each TWO!!!! if i accidentally subconsciously copy one of the lines just. leave me alone jkljfdsklfjds sometimes a bitch is generic!!

dañarte:

Come, now. We'd only just gotten started! I was hoping for more of a challenge.

Ugh, that little... Ahem, my apologies for getting so carried away.

char:

I don't understand what made them so upset... Did I say something wrong?

Sorry, sorry- Here, let me help you clean up!

fidel:

Augh... Can't go back to my dorm with my fur all matted like this...

Huh? A fight? I thought we were just roughousing...

okay YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY ty for indulging me. starts running towards your ask box.

[xxsovereignsarayaxx]

New Series: Video Game Locations That Raise My Blood-Pressure.

I have a love hate relationship with horror title video games. I find the backstory and lore absolutely fascinating however I’m the biggest chicken shit you’ll ever meet. So for your entertainment I present to you. “Video Game Locations That Raise My Blood-Pressure.” *Title Pending* 

*SPOLIER WARNING*

Now to start of this list is a game I recently revisited, was I playing absolutely not! I let the pleasure of this ‘enjoyable’ experience to my significant other. (He’s a good egg.) 

Alien Isolation -  The Sevastopol

Well, what can I say? The description for this delight says it’s a survival horror game. More like let’s see how high your blood pressure can go simulator. You as the protagonist Amanda Ripley, board the Sevastopol set out to find the flight recorder from the Nostromo. (So she can find mummy dearest.) But as soon as you’re on board things don’t seem to go to plan… The place is decommissioned and deserted, the remaining human population seem to only look out for themselves or waive their gun and aimlessly shot at people they don’t know. Personally I’ve never played this because I already suffer from high blood pressure and I don’t need it going any higher. However I watched my partner play this and my god I could feel my blood pressure spiking. Not only is this place creepy as hell. But to make matters worse you have the delightful Xenomorph stalking you ever moment you get. I’m glad we don’t have a Xbox Kinect because I later found out that if we did, any noise made would attract the Alien and we would be treated to a wonderful array of different death animations. But Sovereign I hear you say. What about the Synthetics? Those glowy eyed motherfuckers can go to hell alongside the Xenomorph. “You are becoming hysterical.” Am I bollocks! All you seem to do is scare the living daylights out of me and make me decide that crouching is going to be my new favourite past-time activity… Moving on! 

Resident Evil Biohazard - The Baker House 

Now this one I am proud to say I am fully qualified to judge this as played a grand total of 10 minutes in VR might I add! So we play as Ethan Winters he gets a suspicious video email from presumed missing wife Mia. I mean come on man, she’s been missing for 3 years move on for Christ sake. But no gullible Ethan goes to said location. Another run down house with an unkempt garden. Gates are locked, any normal person would accept there loses and can’t get any further best thing to do, do a u turn out of there. But remember folks this is a video so what do? Trespass and carry on going into this swamp infested hell-hole. But what’s that in the distance? A creepy-ass figure just having a mooch along, do we call out to them, apologise for being on their land or ask for their help? Nah… After rummaging through an out-house we see a hand bag. Plot twist it’s got Mia’s driving license. Now if it were me I’d call the police. But alas we continue. After getting knocked out but the man of the house. Experiencing the dinner party from hell. Finding Mia and trying to es-cape out of there. I’m thinking this bitch has developed problems over the past 3 years, but I hear you say people can change. Not to the fucking point where she takes multiple bullets to the face and attacks us with a frickin chainsaw and we lose our hand. But in video game logic we staple the fucker back on. In my mind, Ethan divorce this bitch and move on with your life you could do so much better! Oh also Jack Baker has no regard for any structural integrity. Next!

Mount Massive Asylum - Outlast

I mean come on what was I thinking when I bought this one at the young naïve age of 17? Ok Red Barrels what on earth where you thinking ok? Survival Horror Game? More like have your pants yanked down having a stiffy shoved up your arse at every beck and call. Miles Upshaw bless his poor soul tasked to investigate the Murkoff Corporation. He gets his camcorder and wanders in the courtyard. Seeing a shadow he scribbles down something in this notebook. Scribble in your notebook? Mate I’d throw it to the ground and leg it out of there. But no this dumb-ass does a bit of parkour and hops in through a window. Again with the trespassing. Must be a thing. Tensions arise as the lights go out, so night-vison mode activated on the camcorder. Continuing to wander aimlessly through this nightmare, squeezing pass furniture. When I attempted to play as soon as I saw the brain-dead patients staring at static I knew I was in for 6 months of sleepless nights. Creeping past these lot, you press on, opening doors having a Charles Xavier wannabe leap out of his wheelchair utters pure nonsense. Being tempted to slap this bitch a few times but instead you just yeet this guy like he’s nothing. But two events that take the biscuit, the poor soul ready for a spit-roasting as his is impaled on a pole. Oh and being thrown of a balcony pretty sure through a window if memory serves me right, and passing out and having the pedo-looking priest saying I’ve been sent by God and that I’m an apostle. Outlast I think not.  

Stay Tuned For More!

[spillmygutzzz]

Sitting here conflicted and trying to keep it together. If it were any other situation, I'd go to him and I'd just gut myself right there but I can't do that this time.

Maybe I've assumed something and made an idiot of myself but that doesn't change that I luv him- no it's not the same regard but it still means something, yeah? Idk

It kills me to see him like this knowing I can't just fix it. He thinks he's just this unlovable monster and I just wish for even a moment he could see thru my eyes. I wish he could see how kind and compassionate he is. He'll do anything for the ppl he luvs even if it tears him apart- even if it wears him down to nothing. Even when he barely knew me, he has always been there for me and I want to always be there for him.

All those things M has done just ring in my ears but I don't want to harp on it to everyone else. He's just done sm and after I defended him and said he was one of the few not being shit. He digs and pried at me for information on his partner that I wouldn't tell him. He claims he doesn't want to be seen as only wanting to talk to one person but how could anyone think anything but that when all he seems interested in talking abt is him or planning calls. That's what they all do, they only talk abt calls regarding him. It's frustrating. To cause a scene like that in front of someone u claimed to see as a friend but then make him feel like fking shit!? R u fking kidding me!?? To have the balls to bitch at me for how long it's been since u've talked to him as if I have control over that? As if I don't fking miss him too? As if it doesn't brutally rip out every vital organ I possess knowing its been weeks since I've heard from him and he's hurting and I can't fking fix it??? Saying u want me to talk to him becuz ur worried he's purposely staying away becuz he's lost feelings? God if I had a goddamn dollar for every time I've heard that yet u won't fking talk to him abt it. It's not fking fair to him. There's a fking difference between acknowledging it's unfair to think that and acknowledging it's unfair and then actually changing. Not just continously doing the same shit.

He's a goddamn person. He's compassionate and sweet and he'll do anything to help. He has a big heart that carries so much. He'd bleed himself dry if it'd help someone. I don't know how anyone could not care for him or luv him. He'll always have a place inside my heart. Even if there ever comes a time where he doesn't want me in his life, I will always hold a spot for him in my heart and I will always welcome him with open arms. I promised him I'd always be there for him and I meant it. For him to feel as if he needs to "prove" he's worth luv? He doesn't need to prove anything. He deserves luv.

U pry and pry and pry for anything abt him and u don't give him any personal space. U think I know what I know becuz I forced it out of him??? That's not how that works. He's fking worn down and tired and yet u can't find it in urself to be understanding over that. He's completely changed since dating u but u wouldn't know that. But I do. I know these things. I fking pay attention and I'm fking angry.

I put emphasis on him being my best friend. I notice when somethings wrong. He feels so deeply and he thinks its wrong but it isn't. He told me he feels more than he let's on, told me that a long time ago before we got closer and I always kept that in the back of my head becuz I knew that was a raw truth.

He told u he wanted to do something on his own and u still pressed and pushed to do it with him and then told me abt it after I had also told u he wanted to watch it alone. Telling me things he's told u as if I don't know but r u telling me just to tell me or to try and prove something? U get frustrated that he tells me things he won't tell u but have u ever thought for a second that instead of getting worked up over that, u should maybe give him time and space?

U sent me this long confession of feelings and nvr mentioned anything to him once. Were u going to tell him at all? U told Evan. Why not him? U claim he nvr tells u when he's ready to call when I knew for a fact that he tells u every little thing he does before calling to make sure that's okay and ur aware of everything. If it's such a problem then maybe u should fking say something. Oh wait. U don't. Instead u go to me abt it. For Christ's sake I couldn't tell u that I was getting to call him becuz I knew ud be all over that. U remind me how long its been since u called him but do u know how long it had been for me? I prioritized ur calls with him becuz that's all I hear abt from anyone over there regarding him and I wanted to make everyone happy.

I just dont know what to do anymore. I haven't even told him abt the feeling I got yet and I'm anxious to but I don't know when I'll get that opportunity but I'm scared to hurt him more than anything but I also don't want to keep it from him cuz it's starting to look like I was right.

But if he wants to see things thru, I won't stop him. I'm scared that call was the last one on one for a long time but it won't stop me from being there when he needs me. I care for him more than he'll ever know and I'm willing to wait for whenever I can talk to him again. I want him to be happy even if it means I'll be at a distance from him. It hurts thinking abt things going back to only hearing from him when he's talking to Michael with texts that have hours between them but at least I'll get to hear from him.

I'm so tired and I want to stop crying.