#Just a litle vent

[cyan-lun]

Sometimes i get this weird feeling. Its an unusual feeling thou its become quite regular. Its a feeling where your hands feel wrong, your boddy feels wrong, i feels fuzzy, you vision is unfocused, no matter how hard you try it stays the same, fuzzy, foreign. An unusual pulse rings in your ears, a beating heart, you thunk its yours, but your not sure, and as you sit infront of sheats of paper scribled with words you cant read, numbers you dont recognise, shapes that spin around, you poke at your finger with a pencil, theres no pain. You apply more pressure until you see blood. A single droplet falls, staining the paper in red, another one follows, yet the pain has yet to arrive, you feel numb, the world feels numb, it feels wrong, i feel wrong, aomething isnt right, you poke anothe hole into your palm, more blood flows out, but still no pain, just a pulsing numbness, and as the red on the page keeps growing a sound starts ringing in your ears, it gets louder and louder until it is all you can hear, tge world around you gets darker and darker and then there is sillence.

I forget my name sometime, i forget my age, and when i look in the mirror i dont recognise the person who stares back at me.

Its confusing, it comes and it goes as it wishes, i dont know when it starts, normally i fall asleep before it ends. Its an endles circle of unsureness, im scared of it, but also crave it, as numbing and confusing as it is, it also feels freeng, like seeing the wprld from a diferent perspective, with a diferent mind almost. I dont know how to escape it, i dont think that matters anymore.

[milquetoaast]

buh

[heyitsharbor]

It's never really a good thing these days when it's 100% Morgan hours

Timing's always bad or whatever and I'm lonely and bored and I have so much I wanna talk about but it's like fuck, fine, ignore me and then dump everything about your own goddamn interests and every time i try to say anything even slightly about what im doing or thinking about, redirect it right back to however you can tie it into what youre doing

idk im frustrated ive lost some friends and been forced to reconnect with others that are bringing up a lot of bad past im not comfortable with . and i just want to retreat from all of that. and there are new people im talking to that make me feel so boring and useless

the truth of it is i have really good friends, too. who love me and i love them and we share interests and put in time for each other even when its not easy.

its just really hard for Me Specifically bc it feels like its never me who gets to experience that anymore and its none of my friends fault but man it sucks i feel like a whole window of my life is just . shuttered

[medievalharlot]

High Endeavours 彡 Daniel Markowitz X F!reader

Pairing: Daniel Markowitz x smart f!reader

Synopsis: The two of you get high and Danny ends up venting to you while you ride him

Wordcount: 2,7K

Tags: Smut 18+ minors dni, fluff, Danny has a praise kink, cowgirl, p in v sex, reader has been kind of a shit friend, intoxicated sex, sex with protection (wrap your willy kids)

A/N: Fic number two! There is way too litle Daniel content on this platform. Please enjoy!

He was glad to have you back home again. It had been hard for him having you away at college while he was stuck at home. He had no job, no papers and nothing to do without you here. Ever since the two of you met in highschool, you had always been the smart one. It was no wonder you went to college. You were always the one passing tests without studying too hard, the one that was always on top of her game. It was why you met in the first place. Daniel was failing algebra hard, not once had he passed a test, until the teacher had asked you to tutor him. The hour of tutoring after school turned into late nights at the library and getting kicked out by the librarian for staying too long. You helped him pass algebra and in return you got a life long friend. Late nights at the library turned into hangouts that turned into sleepovers. The two of you were like two pea’s in a pod.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t proud of you, he was extremely proud of you. His best friend, you, majoring in neuroscience. Every time you told him about a class you passed, or a research proposal that got approved he cheered with you. It had just been a little hard not having you near the last few weeks. Allie basically broke up with him, his grandma went missing for a day and he felt like a complete failure. Daniel needed you more than ever but you were busy with school. He would never blame you for not having enough time to reply to his texts or pick up when he called. You both lived seperate lives now, he had seen the Instagram stories with your new friends. It stung a little, but it was fine, he was fine. You were here now, even it was for a few days.

“Thanks for picking me up Danny.” You dragged your suitcase over the doorstep to your childhood home. It was just like how you remembered. The photo’s were still arranged the exact same way, a sense of familiarity in the mess that was in the living room. After months of studying, writing and reading it was good to be back. It was even better to see Daniel. You felt guilty for not being there for him and you had missed him terribly.

“It’s fine Y/N. It is good to have you back, this town isn’t the same without you.” He smiled and sounded genuinely happy. Clumsily he helped you drag your other bags inside. Both your parents happened to be on vacation while you were back home, a miscommunication that had you ranting to Daniel for hours. Daniel was secretly quite glad about this arrangement, it ment he could stay at your house the entire two weeks you were home. You never turned him down when he asked to sleep over, you wouldn’t this time either.

“You sound just like a cowboy.” You chuckled softly. “Only instead of the town not being big enough for both of us, the town is big enough for both us.” With an exhausted sigh you sat down on the couch. “Do you mind staying tonight? It feels weird being in a house this big alone.” It was like you read his mind. He joined you on the couch, as soon as he did you leaned your head against his shoulder. Being around him felt good, it felt comfortable and right.

“Yeah sure, only because you asked nicely.” He teases. If he was honest he would walk on thumbthacks for you if you asked him nicely. It was something that had always annoyed Allie. Often the two of them would fight about how Daniel was always talking about you. He knew she was right and that his friendship with you was different than with his other female friends, he just couldn’t help himself.

“Is your grandma okay? I mean from what you told me she went on quite a journey.” You lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him.

“Yeah she is fine. I think it was actually good for her in a weird way.” He chuckled and shook his head. “This guy Ben, you remember Ben right, she has been hanging out with him a lot. ” He told you.

“I am glad she is alright. Would be a waste to see that sassy old lady go so soon.” You looked a him and got up. “Come on, let's get these upstairs.” Softly, you kicked the suitcases on the floor.

Your bedroom was exactly how you left it. All your trophies lined up, degrees on the wall and of course, your photos with Daniel. For a moment you just stood there, so many memories. You had grown out of this version of you. When did that happen?

Daniel quickly burst you out of your thought bubble by placing his hand on your shoulder. “Getting sentimental now, Y/N.” His eyes found yours, a teasing look in them.

“Oh shut up.” You playfully gave him a push. “It’s weird. For years this was my bedroom, now I just feel like a guest.” You lifted one of your suitcases on the bed to open it. “This is going to take forever to unpack.” Sifting through your clothes you realised just how many pairs of socks you brought.

“Did you pack for a trip to Mount Everest or something.” He watched over your shoulder. “And who needs that many socks.”

“Obviously, I do. You never know when the sockthief might strike.” You laughed as you placed your laptop on your desk. “I need to finish his proposal. Do you mind waiting?”

It stung, but he wouldn't tell you that. Of course you were busy with school, when weren't you? “Yeah sure.” His voice betrayed his dissapointment.

“I swear once I am done I have surprise for you Daniel.” You smirked as you grabbed your laptop and placed it on your desk.

“Really now? Thats a deal.” He fell down on your bed.

Daniel had nothing to do but scroll on his phone while you were busy typing away. With no job or school most of his afternoon's were spend like this. In bed, doomscrolling. He ended up Allie's Instagram, she seemed so happy. With a sigh he looked at the photos. You had taken notice and grabbed his phone.

“Hey!” He shot up to take back his phone.

“Stop looking at her page. This way you’re never getting over her Danny.” You close Instagram and throw his phone back on the bed.

“We didn’t break up, we’re just on a break.” He corrected you. Allie had been there for him while you were away, filling the hole you left behind in his life.

“You need to get your mind off it.” You stood up from the chair, closing your laptop. Finally, you were finished. “I have just the thing to help you with that.” With a grin you walk to one of your many bags, digging through some stuff until you pulled out a little tube. It had a joint inside. Danny didn't know you smoked? What did they do to you at that school?

“You smoke?” He asked you with a tone that made it seem like he didn’t believe you. You were a good girl, never stepped out of line.

“No, of course not!” You said defensively. Just because you didn’t like breaking rules didn’t mean you didn’t like to let loose sometimes. Slowly you got closer to him. “I just.. thought it would be fun to try with you?” You titled your head, a playful half-smile on your face. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Danny hesitated for a moment. He had smoked weed before, but that was a few years ago. The problem was that he always spoke his mind when he was intoxicated and spilling his guts to you on the first day didn’t sound that smart to him. He watched you plop down next to him while you were still holding the joint. “Alright.” He gave in, he was never one to deny you.

A few minutes later the two of you were sitting on the old leather couch in the basement. You feared that the smell would stay in your room if you smoked the joint upstairs and you knew for a fact that your parents would kill you if they found out. With your leg tucked under you and your body facing Daniel. The joint was pressed between your lips as he lit it for you. You took a deep inhale and as soon as the smoke hit your lungs you started coughing. A silent ‘oh fuck’ left your lips as you passed it to him.

“Oh so you weren’t lying about never having done this before.” Daniel teased you before also taking a hit. He did it with a little more grace than you, the smoke leaving his mouth as he tilted his head back.

“You look like a dragon when you do that.” You laugh as you snatch the joint back. With a lot less coughing you took another hit, and then another and another. Before you could take a fourth he took it out of your hands.

“Quit hogging it, you’re gonna get sick like that.”

The joint lasted quite a few rounds and both of you were now plastered on the couch. The saying ‘as high as a kite’ suddenly made sense to you. With heavy eyes you looked at Daniel. Sweet Daniel. He had always been kind to you. You still remember the first time you met him. His stupid grin had dethawded your cold behaviour towards him within the first tutoring session. You missed this, missed him. You hadn’t been a good friend the last few months, you knew that, but you hoped these few weeks would make it up to him. Oh sweet Daniel. Your hand had found it’s way to his thigh as you softly brushed your thumb against him. It wasn’t your intention for it to be a sexual gesture, you enjoyed touching people when you were intoxicated. For you it was nice way to feel connected. But the longer your hand lingered on his thigh, the hotter your skin felt.

Daniel knew that you enjoyed having contact. He knew that very well. It didn’t stop his dick from getting hard from the soft and gentle movement of your fingers. The weed had removed all filters in his mind so he just blurted out. “You’re gonna give me boner if you keep doing that.”

It took a few seconds before the words hit you. “Sorry, this weed has me horny ‘n shit.” You lifted your hand to rub your eyes. He watched you silently. Really, he tried to have some self control but your words had effect on him. Deep down he knew he two of you had always been more than just friends, Allie was just a distraction because he knew he wanted you. But being with you felt like tying you down with him. With no degrees or job he would just be a bother. He would hold you back when all hewanted was to see you soar. In the fog of his high, his lips found yours. And to his surprise you kissed him back.

It was a slow and sloppy kiss. You crawled onto his lap as your hands we’re already trying to take of your shirt. The dial went from 0 to a 100 quickly. Never being one to take things slow you were half naked grinding down on his hard-on. One of his hands was on your shoulder brushing away your hair, the other groping a boob. You reached for the waistband of his sweatpants. The thought of having sex with Danny had been on your mind a few times, more times than you liked to admit, but you never thought you would end up actually fucking him.

“You sure ‘bout this.” Your lips were on his neck as you slurred your words.

Daniel couldn't think straight. “Yes.. yes please just..” He squinted his eyes shut as you pulled his dick out. More words than that weren’t needed. You gave him a few pumps before looking at him.

“Condom.” You muttered suddenly, getting off his lap to desperately search for one. He sat there. His legs slightly spread, breathless, his boner on full display and mind clouded from the weed. Once you found one you climbed back onto his lap. You ripped it open with your teeth and slowly rolled it onto him. Without waiting another second you lowered your wet pussy onto him, feeling him deep inside you and fulling you up so nicely. It had been a while since you had a good fuck.

Daniel groaned, god you clenched so thightly around him. It felt like his head was going to explode. His hands found it’s way to your hips and held them as you slowly rocked. “Missed you so much..” He mumbled softly against your neck. After months you were finally here again.

You pressed your lips against his once more. The pace was sloppy, the sex was messy. Lewd sounds filled the basement. In his haze Daniel started to ramble. “Everything has just been so hard without you. I am such a failure and you’re so..” He panted as you nibbled his earlobe. “So great.” He groaned.

“Hey Daniel?” You paused for a moment and smiled. “Shut the fuck up okay?” With a swift moment you pushed him down on the couch as you sat up straight, the leather was cold against his skin.

“You’re such an amazing person.” While saying the words you could feel him twitching inside you. Is this what he was into? You leaned forward and pulled his shirt up to his chest, planting kisses on his stomach. “And you’re so talented and funny.” A whine left his mouth as he curled his hands gently in your hair. “And so loving and kind.” It didn’t surprise you that he had a praise kink and you were happy to give into his desires.

You straightened your back again and lead his hand to your breast again. His touch tingled against your skin, you should definitely have more sex while high. With another thrust of your hips you threw your head back. The sight alone had Daniel nearly bursting. “Fuck.. I’m gonna cum.”

“I know. ” You threw you head forward and with half-lidded eyes you stared down at him. He couldn’t stop himself from spilling all inside the condom from the sheer confidence you said those words with. Damn you truely were perfect. With a loud groan he came and sent you over the edge as well. Your orgasm hit you like a brick wall making you almost collapse forward.

You laid on his chest for a moment, just catching you breath in silence. His arm wrapped around you, holding you close. The only sound was the two of you panting.

“I meant what I said Daniel.” Eventually you break the silence. You wanted him to know you cared. “I am sorry I haven’t been as present in your life as I should be.”

Daniel was certainly surprised. “Hey it’s okay, you’re here now aren’t you?” He gave your arm a squeeze. “Maybe I should drive to your dorm every once in a while too.”

“You’d do that for me?” You turn to look him in the eye. The smile that you loved so much greeted you back.

“Of course. When have I ever told you no.” He chuckled. You laid back again. Laying there with him felt right. This is what you wanted, who you wanted. It had always been him but you were just to busy to wrap your head around that. So smart and yet still so dumb.

“I do need your help with a favor tho.”

“With what?”

“Do you know how to get your ID replaced?”

[marichild]

ATSUSHI AND TRANSMASC MIZIIII

HI RAI. for transmasc mizi fic i'll use the questions from the other wip asks since i was about to answer that with that one anyway haha. under a cut because this got long

wip ask game

atsushi 123.5 hysteria fic

OKAY this one is like. it WAS a hysteria fic until i got side tracked by #lifeevents and started another vent fic lol but this will be finished soon PROMISE! anyway i was losing my mind thinking about ueda & atsushi; the fact you are a weapon made human but are you really human at all and your existence is misery and you bring hurt and misery to other people and aren't you better off dead, really? what value do you have in living? so yeah. currently this is what i have:

it's mostly dazai reassuring atsushi that the name of man-eating tiger is not really true in his own weird way <3

transmasc mizi

aha! hi! this is basically the fic wherein: high school/college au where we talk about heteronormativity, the expectations pressed upon queer women, sua dead wifing as per canon, & transgenderisms. i ended up going a litle crazy after a string of insane dms with shivi & kavi after the comic dropped and ended up making notes for a till (who is also transmasc in this verse) sequel lmao. onto the questions!

#11 — What scene are you most hyped for?

IM REALLY EXCITED TO GET TO THE SCENE WHERE MIZI CONFESSES HER TRANSGENDERISM TO TILL. the idea for this scene came initially as a joke because kavi joked about till discovering the concept of bisexuality because of mizi transitioning/coming out, but i thought about it more, of course, and i think, especially in light of the new comic, there's a lot of interesting things you can say about heteronormativity & queerness, esp. given where mizitill are positioned within the canon narrative in relation to their designated "partners," so to say. which yes is why a till sequel exists LMAO

#12 — What emotions do you expect your readers to feel?

i won't lie i do expect to at least have people displeased by this fic existing. you know the typical "every time a strong woman is headcanoned as transmasc an angel loses its wings" type bullshit. but— this fic is written specifically to spite those people lmao and beyond that, i hope to help people connect to mizi the way i interpret, especially people, whether transmasc or not, had similar experiences to mizi prior to like, transitioning, or such— or even people who haven't had the chance to do that socially. i also just really hope to ramp up the angst with the angsting and guilt because she feels like she's betraying sua and all that. most of my thoughts are... messy, but i just hope people enjoy this!

#17 — Share the previous sentences.

Have seven instead <3

ask me abt my wips in this one also <3

[mamasgarden]

okay thank you :) i really have no one to talk to soooo yahhh. basicaly, schhol has been realy hard, i’ve had 13 tests in the past 3 days. that’s insane. an i cant regress bc i don have time. today, i found out that my besfriend supports trump and i told him how wrong that is for us woman and overal the world and he just blocked me, manipulating me and sayin how “i think youre better off without me, bc im the bad guy right?” and so i had a panic attack and relapsed after a while :( m so sory for ventin like this but i feel safe to talk to you, sory for the text peoblems, im feeling litle but tryin not to regress until the weekent, thank you for listenin to me, love youu!

-🌙

i'm so so sorry that all of this is happening to you, love. it is insane, 13 tests in three days is terrible.

losing a friend to them being a trump supporter is horrible. i'm glad that you're not friends anymore, but the pain is awful and i'm sure it hit quick.

it's okay, love, it's very very okay to vent. if you need to get the feelings out, it's alright and perfectly healthy to talk to people.

i'm glad you feel safe here.

you're welcome for listening, angel. i'm always here to listen.

mama loves you ❤️❤️

[eurovision-revisited]

Eurovision 2009 - Number 8 - Jane Helen - "Shuffled"

Like Jane from 2006, Jane Helen is not a woman. They're another band. Formed in the early 2000s, they're an all-female rock band with a distinct sense of aggression. They've also written one of the all-time sweariest national final songs.

Originally a trio consisting of drummer Christine Litlekalsøy (aka Christine Litle), Sandra Ekdahl on guitar and Dordi Drønen the singing bassist, they expanded and shifted roles by recruiting drummer Mona Wol and guitarist Solveig Vaaland. Dordi stepped back to do backing vocals while Christine stepped away from the drum riser and took on lead vocals.

Their inspirations are Throwing Muses, The Clash and especially Iggy Pop, and for a period in the 2000s, the future looked rosy. They reached the national finals of the 2005 battle of the bands. That in turn brought them to the attention of the German music industry and tours of Germany followed. There was a 2007 EP, and an album was in the process of being written and recorded in 2009. One of the tracks from that future album turned out to be Shuffled

Starting out with one of the bassier rumbles in a national final to date, it builds through a verse until Christine releases her anguish, frustrations and anger in a series of fucks and screams accompanied by fireworks and driving guitar and bass riffs. That bass though.

This ain't manufactured scandi-pop. This is vocal-cord rasping, vocal-coach baiting metal ripped straight from the spleen and vented on an unsuspecting Melodi Grand Prix audience. Yes, this is the year that girl-bop mutated into female-fronted rock bands, but Jane Helen and Shuffled aren't a contrivance of the music industry, this is a group who were set on this course years before and were determined to show what they were about.

Shuffled is a refreshing shock to the system and a reminder of the music that Eurovision and the national finals overlook on a repeated basis in an attempt to appeal to the middle ground.

Maybe surprisingly, this did OK. In what you might be realising was one of the all time great MGPs, they were drawn in the same heat as Alexander Ryback, and failed to progress to the final. But they did get a place in the second chance final. There they won their first duel, but just failed to make it through the second. Jane Helen were within touching distance of the final, but fell just short.

No matter. Their long brewing album came out in 2010 filled with more of the same heavy nightmares and spike-pits filled with broken and sharpened bass strings.

And then they seem to have split up. I don't know why or if anything happened. Maybe it was just that the album wasn't hugely successful. Solveig was already working with another band called Wicked Fairies by the time it came out. Christine pops up again later in the 2010s in a distinctly more electronic band called KIST, which I think might be a name for a solo project by her.

Two songs because I'm that impressed with Jane Helen. First more of the same from the 2009 album, this is Beautiful

and from her last project, this is Christine Litle and KIST and Release Me Now

[dinogod]

Is this like a vent post ? Is that what you younger people call it ?? Well shame on you, in my time that was called, do a risk joke and laugh uncomfortable because that the only way to talk of you trauma , in my time we lived sad and miserable ALONE thank you very time

Why my mom are so weird ?? I remember being a litle cute baby of my, just getting ready for school, and putting my most comfortable underwear, because ofc that's gonna be a long day off being bullied for my own teacher and paint animal's, but my mom say to me " oh no Honey, you need to put that little cute undewair mom get for you, you don't wanna look like a ugly girl if a man see your underwear, right? "

Like??? Wtf woman stop to Reflect your own sexual frustrations into me I'm fuck six, grow up.

Well, woman, I'm a right?

[silly-ehggy]

Im gonna cry therez so many ppl who don't have dni listz so I don't know if I'm allowed 2 interact with them and if I do interact and they think I shouldn't have im gonna feel bad abt it and if I don't ill also feel bad bcuz the stuff I see lookz so cool but if I don't know if these people are ok with me interacting with me or not im not sure if it'll b ok and I go down this do I or do I not spiral and AAAAAAAAAA AAHUEH HEUG HUHU UUUHHRHEUGH UEUE *sob ing* eee.... :((((

[lucidcapricorn]

the downside to dressing in baggy clothes all the time is that i either 1. feel uncomfortable in anything else or 2. i feel pretty ok but don’t how to to actually look good when dressing good

[midgemash]

middle siblings be like: u asked me to do one thing therefore u are a bitch

[toad-in-a-trenchcoat]

"just a litle vent" WAAAA making spec bio is so hard!its like "convergent evolution this" "it needs to be more realistic" "no you cant have two primary consumers on this island its to small!"

ps. i am incredibly sorry you are just the only other spec bio person i talk to

No trouble at all, and I totally get it

I love thinking about biological mechanics and possibilities, but sometimes ya just want to have a funky creature in a neat world without having to consider a set of “rules” or base guidelines

[aliceyabusamesoneball]

litle bit vent

i genuinely do not know what race i am like?? im chinese but also im cuban and also im white?? i guess?? BUT LIKE when people ask me what ethnicity i am i dont know what to tell them.. i jjst say chinese cuban american but like i dont feel like i look like any of those

like chinese people think i look chinese, cuban people think i look cuban, and white people think i look white, and technicallyyeah im all of those things but like what do i actually look like then?? like what do i identify as

on like those forms that are like indicate yuor race and there isnt a mixed option i never know what to put normally i just put asian because im more chinese than anything else (if you want to get into percentages im half chinese a quarter cuban and a quarter white) (but im not sure how much those count)

sometimes i feel like i should jjst identify as white because having to say those percentages feels so ridiculois sometimes like if i have to prove im a certain race should i even identify as it?? but at the same time just calling myself white feels like im erasing parts of myself i feel like those cultures are important to me esepcially chinese culture

but also i feel like really really whitewashed because i cant speak any dialect of chinese and i cant speak spanish either, my dad is half cuban/half white but he didnt really grow up in cuban culture so i never got to either,, my mom is from china and is fully chinese so she did teach me some culture stuff but i feel like im jsut. not chinese enough. does that even make sense.. like i dont look chinese i cant speak chinese i grew up in the usa and i’ve never even been to china

when i told that girl who asked if i was japanese that i was chinese she started talking to me excitedly in mandarin and i jjst felt so awful having to tell her that i cant speak it because she seemed so happy to find someone else who was also chinese and i told her i was half chinese and she said “so youre half american?” and i. ITS NOT HER FAULT NOT IN THE SLIGHTEST AND IM NOT MAD AT HER but it jjst made me feel so bad inside i dont know anything about chinese culture really and i cant even speak chinese. i dont even look chinese so what even makes me chinese i feel like i’m just a dumb american who doesn’t knww anytthing pretending to be a chinese person i know i’m chinese ethnically but i dont feel like it

and also the fact that i know absolutely nothing about cubans or cuban culture or anyhtuohng makes me feel so bad my dad doesnt really either so its not his fault for not teaching me bbut ohgod i wish i knew about it so bad there isnt much about cuban culture that i can find and its not like my dad knows much either and i dont really know many cuban people and i cant speak spanish and i dont evne feel cuban at all in the slightest like i at least know a little bit about chinese stuff but id ont know shit about cuban culture

i feel like a white person masquerading as different cultures and even though i know im not i still feel like it and i feel like maybe other people see me that way because i dotn know that much about my cultruel and i jjst uhsdfijjn

it just feels really lonely because i don’t really have anyone in my life that can relate to my experience because its a pretty unique mix of cultures?? ive never met anyone else who was chinese and cuban and i guessits cool but it feels incredibly lonely knowing ill probably never have anyone to relate to,, like ive never felt  truly represented in any type of media or anythinkg like ive seen more representation of nonwhite people in general and thats genuinely great!! but ive never seen anything that can relate to me as ap erson even though when i was a kid id watch things with chinese people in it and sometimes could relate i dont know if ill ever be able to really connect with a character like me SORRY THATS KIND OF A STUPID THING TO WANT OUT OF ALL OF THIS IMPORTANT STUFF BUTSTILL

sorryif this doesnt make sense  i jjst have a lot o f feelings ☹️

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

I can’t get over how he presents himself in the Lee arc. It’s equal parts I Amn Just A Litle Creacher and Tiny Space Twink Is Very Tired. I want to give him cocoa and let him vent about his string of crappy relationships.

[gaudebo]

Damn I really am gay huh

[platypanthewriter]

Nostalgia

Harringrove April day 16, Nostalgia!  Steve finds himself walking an underwater city, where everything feels familiar...except Billy.  A Bioshock AU, but I had a friend who hasn’t played the games check it, and I'm assured it makes sense!

The ocean poured inside the plane, and Steve swam for the hole blown in the side, trying to keep his bearings in the plumes of bubbles from the seats and the murky darkness of oil.  He gasped for breath when his head broke the surface, and breathed in smoke, his lungs aching.

The lighthouse was a beacon, the only safe haven in a sea of wreckage.

It felt nostalgic.

He opened the door into it and found the bathysphere, and the controls were intuitive, like he’d used them before.  All those times I crashed at sea, he thought with a snort, glancing around warily.

He emerged miles below the surface, in a world of glass walls and ceilings, flickering lights, to crackling saxophone on a jukebox.  The nostalgia was so strong it was almost metallic in his mouth, and he kept trying to remember the name of the sunken city, though as far as he knew, he’d never been there before.

The first person he saw was a little girl, tucking her dirty, frilly dress out of the way to bend over a mutilated corpse.  She was singing a little song—the made-up kind children always sang, starting and ending nowhere—and she stabbed a huge syringe into the dead man’s back.

It was strange, Steve thought, how strange it wasn’t, to him.  He watched her drink from the syringe, her eyes glowing, and the radio he’d been carrying—the radio he figured had died, in the crash or the swim—crackled to life.

“Don’t kill her,” came an urgent voice.  “They’ve worked their worst on her, but she’s still a just a kid.  Don’t kill her, I can—I can help you—”

“Ssh,” Steve whispered, as a huge, armored mechanical man—or mechanical armor?!  It was hard to tell—lumbered up to the little girl, and scooped her up onto its shoulder.  She cackled with glee.  

“That’s a Big Daddy,” said the radio, more softly.  “They—” 

The voice was cut off by the noise of screaming, as a band of people in ragged evening wear jumped down on the guardian and the shrieking little girl.  Steve aimed his .45 at the one swinging a whiskey bottle at her head, forgetting it’d been drenched and wouldn’t fire.

“Would you kindly not kill my sister,” hissed the radio, and Steve would have rolled his eyes, but the Big Daddy had grabbed the guy with the whiskey bottle and drilled through him with some kind of huge prosthetic, swinging his body to knock the other assailants away.  Steve held very still, because the little girl seemed to be protected well in body, if not in mind.

She seemed unbothered, though, by the showers of blood and viscera, and Steve watched her skip off hand-in-hand with the armored beast with the same aching nostalgia.  “Who are these people,” Steve whispered.

“Splicers,” said the voice.  “They made themselves faster, stronger—some of them can shoot lightning.  But it has other effects.”

Steve nodded slowly, bending to scoop up the whiskey bottle and take a swig.  “I wouldn’t have hurt your sister,” he whispered, keeping a wary eye out as he inspected the fallen attackers for weapons.  “There was a guy trying to knock her block off with a bottle.”

“...good.  Don’t,” said the voice.

The dead people were wrong—grown strangely out of their own clothing and shoes, bent recently so that a knee here or a deformed elbow there were skinned from having to suddenly support their weight.   

One of the women had had a revolver, and he grabbed it, then a shotgun lying nearby.  There was water pouring through part of the ceiling onto a grand piano, and Steve’s heart panged, a little, to see the destruction of somewhere that felt like...home.  

“Who are you?” he asked, and listened to silence.  The lights flickered inside to show the dimly glowing helmet of another of the lumbering, armored men outside, and Steve ducked into the hallway, keeping his movements quick and low.  He could see into another glass domed hallway nearby, where a woman threw a grenade at what looked like a machine gun turret, and everything went dark.  When the lights flickered back on, the part of the ocean where the other hallway had been was dark.

“I can help you get back to the surface,” the voice over the radio said, and Steve wondered how to explain that he felt right here, even with the violence and the water pouring in around him.  “Help me get my sister, and I’ll show you how to get out.”

I don’t want to leave yet, Steve thought of saying, but he grimaced instead, watching his boots sink into the plush, patterned carpet, with the feeling he’d watched it before.  Not until I know what’s going on.  “Where are you?” he asked.  “And what d’you need me to do?”

The voice laughed.  Through the radio crackle, it was hard to tell much, but now that Steve wasn’t distracted, he thought it sounded like a man, youngish.  “I’m not telling you where I am,” it whispered.  

“I don’t know how I can help you, then,” Steve told the voice, and it laughed.  

“I need you to kill a Big Daddy,” it said.

 The voice explained how to fool the security turrets, and as Steve wandered around the district, he began to get a feel for what the voice at the other end of the radio could see, what he couldn’t, and where he might be.  

Steve found a man with a molotov cocktail and bad conversational skills outside the pump room, and when he tried the key from the man’s corpse’s belt in the door, it turned.  The vent from there was wide enough for his shoulders, and Steve reckoned they must need it big, pumping so much air around down here.  He crawled through, listening to the voice say “...I lost you.  Where are you—” before coming up right behind the person talking.

He whipped around, panting, and stared down the barrel of Steve’s revolver, dropping an enormous wrench and raising his hands.  Steve was right—he was about Steve’s age, his curls wild where his rabbit half-mask was tied over them.  He was shirtless in ripped coveralls, with the top off and tied around his waist.  He was smirking, wide-eyed, as he licked his lips.

“Who are you?” Steve asked, again.

“I’m Billy, Billy Hargrove,” he said, leaning in, and Steve registered he was a splicer too—the veins all along his left arm were black, and that hand was twisted and elongated.  He had blood on him, like the others, but some of it looked like his own, from his split lip, and from the flesh still seeping where the bones in his hand had warped.  “I’m helping you,” he hissed, his grin widening.  “Would you kindly not shoot me.”  

Steve hadn’t really intended to, but he’d just had someone clamber across the ceiling with ice hooks—singing a hymn—and then drop on his head and try to murder him, so he was a litle twitchy.  “I probably won’t,” he said.

The guy’s mask was white and gold, an odd contrast to his filthy work clothes, and Steve glared through the eyeholes to see blue eyes, wide and red-rimmed.  “Anything I can do to shift your opinion?” Billy asked, his muscles gleaming with cold tension sweat.

“Can you shoot lightning?”

Hargrove shook his head, slowly.  “I know the way out,” he whispered, licking his lips again.  “I can do some things.  Not that.”

“What things,” Steve hissed, and Billy lowered his hands, slowly.  

“I just wanna find my sister,” he said, reaching up and pushing Steve’s gun away from his face.  “Just help me find her, she’s one of those little girls out there.  They took her.”

“They...steal children?” Steve asked, somehow more shocked than he’d been by anything else so far.  Billy just nodded, watching his face.  “Who stole her, those...armored monsters?”

Billy laughed.  “The scientists that made the armored monsters,” he said, “...and other things.”

“...the splicers,” Steve realized.  

“What the splicers used,” Billy agreed, shrugging, with a rueful glance down at his malformed hand.  “In the end, pretty much the same.”

“What else?” Steve asked, and Billy stared back at him for a long second, and then smiled.  His split lip left blood on his teeth.

“The little girls help gather it, now,” he said.  “They made little girls able to gather what will let you shoot lightning.”

“...is that what she was doing with the body,” Steve asked, his gorge rising, and Billy smirked.  

“If I don’t find my sister first, she’ll drink me after I’m dead,” he said, lightly, and Steve shuddered, for the first time uninterested in the mysteries of the city hidden away under the ocean.

“...can you use a shotgun?” he tried next, and Billy nodded, then stumbled as Steve shoved it into his hands. 

 Around then another voice came on Steve’s radio, and told him about a family in danger, a woman and a small child, and asked, trembling over the radio waves, whether Steve would kindly help save their lives.  The words felt familiar and right, and Steve tried to remember the city, remember their words, as he agreed.  

Billy just sighed.

 They wouldn’t have started trouble with the first Big Daddy, but a splicer clonked it on the head trying to steal the little girl, and it attacked everything, after that.  Steve ran out of ammo, once, and Billy chucked his wrench at it and ran up a pile of packing crates.  He yelled as the thing knocked them aside like they were ABC blocks, until Steve could draw its attention back with a tommy gun the splicer had dropped. 

They took it in turns to rewire the security turrets, and Billy still nearly died, the drill grazing his jaw as Steve emptied their shotgun into the thing’s kidneys.  Billy fell as it fell, slumping to his knees and staring straight ahead, and Steve threw the gun down and checked him for injuries, then cupped his face.  “Billy.  Billy,” he whispered.  “Are you hurt?”

“...you killed it,” Billy whispered back, laughing unsteadily, and then he leaned in and kissed Steve, his lips cold and shaking, but his mouth warm.  “You killed it,” he whispered again.  “We can do this,” he mumbled against Steve’s lips, his voice breaking.  

Billy’s shivering arms around Steve’s neck were the first time something had felt new, down here, and he sat for a long second, thinking it out.  “...we’ll find her,” he said, and Billy laughed, wide-eyed behind his mask, and then ran his tongue over his teeth, grinning.  

“You’re sold, huh,” he said, and Steve snorted a laugh, and helped him up.  

 The little girl clung to the charred hulk of the Big Daddy, sobbing, and Steve lifted her away guiltily as she kicked and screamed, and then, when he didn’t hurt her, clung to him.

“...that’s not her,” Billy whispered.  “Damn it.”

“All right,” Steve said, “—hup!” and picked her up, letting her sing her creepy little song as her eyes glowed. 

“Kill her,” said the other voice, over the radio, and Steve and Billy stopped, glancing at each other, as the little girl climbed up to hug Steve’s head.  

“Don’t,” said a voice close by, and Steve turned to see a woman half-hidden behind one of the crates.  Her German accent was as familiar as almost everything had been since he’d arrived, and he squinted under the little girl patting his hair, her weight making him stand crookedly.  

“I wasn’t going to kill a child,” he said, and the woman stepped forward, a little.  

“If you help her, she can help you,” she said.

“We’re trying to help her,” Steve said, and Billy leaned to whisper in his ear.

His breath was warm.  It was a new sensation, and Steve shivered, distracted.  “That’s the doctor that did this,” Billy told him.

“And I know how to undo it,” she said sternly, ignoring Billy’s snort.

“How?” Steve asked, trying to ignore the weight of Billy’s chilly shoulder leaning against him, and she tossed him a syringe.  

“Take that,” she said.  “It’ll let you save them.”  She glanced at his radio.  “...or kill them.  Children.”

“I will save them,” Steve reiterated, annoyed, and Billy watched his face warily, but helped him push the syringeful of glowing liquid under his own skin.  

The little girl yelped and squirmed as Steve laid his hand on her stomach and drew the glow out of her eyes and skin, and Billy’s tense fingers left bruises in his arm, but when he sat her down, she clutched at Steve’s hand.  “Thank you, mister,” she said, and Billy gave a throaty gasp, swallowing hard.  

“We’ll save her,” Steve told him, squeezing him close, and Billy leaned up for another soft kiss, lingering this time.  He tasted of blood, and salt from the tears leaking down through his mask.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling away and grabbing the tommy gun.

 He ran with Steve to try and save the voice’s family, and they watched the bathysphere they’d tried to save get overwhelmed by splicers, and sink.  “Damn it,” Billy whispered, as the voice sent them hunting someone else.  

He called the city Rapture, and it fit like a puzzle piece in Steve’s mind, the beginning of a complete picture.

“You don’t know where your sister is, do you?”

Billy grimaced, shaking his head.  “I can’t fit through the vents,” he admitted.  “Wo—would you ki…” he grimaced, and swallowed.

“We can look for your sister while helping him,” Steve said, and Billy nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little.  Steve grabbed his hand—the whole one, so as not to hurt him—and pulled him along, and Billy laughed, smiling sidelong over at him whenever they came to a stop.  When Steve pushed him into cover to avoid one of the ceiling-clinging splicers, Billy pulled him close, sliding his hands up and under Steve’s shirt, another new sensation.  Billy’s skin under his fingertips was yet one more.  

 It felt odd, but good, chasing something that he was clumsy at, that didn’t fall into place.  Even as Steve slid his fingers into Billy’s sweat-warm hair, he couldn’t help thinking that everyone seemed to know who he was.  The doctor had waited for him.  The new voice on the radio called him by name, and Billy had asked for his help as soon as he came down in the bathysphere.  

The sounds of splicers screaming and bombs detonating sank into a comforting hum in the background, and Steve had missed it, somehow.  The air smelled right, down here, he thought, where even the air in the lighthouse, unpolluted as yet by the smoke from the plane, had smelled empty and strange.

 They saved another little girl, Steve drawing the glowing stuff from her and grimacing down at his arm as she ran off and clambered into a vent.  The radio voice told him how to hook himself up to a machine in the wall, and Billy leaned around him, poking the controls.  

“There,” he said, sounding a little sad.  It was hard to read Billy, Steve thought, bending to kiss under his jaw.  “Now you can throw lightning,” Billy said, with his odd, crooked smile.

“...I won’t hurt you, you know,” Steve told him, taking a guess, and Billy’s eyes widened behind his mask.  

“...I’m sorry,” he said, but he wouldn’t explain.

 The other voice led them through more and more splicers, and finally Billy screamed as they were nearly overwhelmed, and rats poured from the walls, climbing and biting.  Billy drew Steve away, panting, as the horde of splicers screamed, eaten alive.  “I can’t do that very often,” he whispered against Steve’s shoulder, his mask knocked crooked against Steve’s head.  “I’ll end up like the rest of them.  And it’s no good against the big Daddies, not through that armor.”

Steve squeezed him tightly, and then retied his mask for him, gently tugging his hair free of the knot.

 When they found the labs, Billy found his sister, and Steve took the glow from her eyes.  She tagged along after them, holding both their hands, and when attacked, using the flamethrower Billy had found for her.

Her name was Max.

Steve was horrified by the labs,  bythe recordings of the scientists experimenting on the little girls—and on a little boy, too—though Billy grabbed him and pulled him from that room quickly, and Max set it on fire.

“You don’t want to see in there,” Billy told him, staring into Steve’s eyes, and running his thumb over Steve’s cheek.  “...there’s no fixing it anyway,” he added hoarsely, turning and kicking the wall, hard.  “Damn it,” he whispered.  

“Come on,” said Max, and Billy twined his fingers through Steve’s..

 The voice kept telling Steve to move on, to find the maker of the city, to get revenge, and Steve’s skin crawled with urgency even as he met Billy’s expressionless eyes behind the mask.  “...we’ll meet you at the bathysphere,” Billy said, watching Steve warily like Steve hadn’t proved himself, finding Billy’s sister.

The voice came on again, and Billy shoved Max behind him, his eyes on Steve, as the voice said, “Would you kindly hurry up, before the whole of Rapture floods,” and Steve shuddered.  

“Th-that’s safest,” Steve managed, watching Billy turn away and not look back.  It felt familiar again, cloyingly nostalgic, to follow the voice.  

He thought he’d seen tears dripping along Billy’s chin as he’d turned away, but it could have been sweat—or water, from the holes the splicers kept blowing in the walls.  

 Steve faced the maker of the city alone, his hands shaking as he tried to follow every directive the voice made, and still hear the man in front of him, speaking words.  When he left, trembling and bloodied, the voice told him where to go next—it didn’t even explain why, anymore, in an endless train of ‘Would you kindly’s, as Steve tried to tell it he was done, he wanted to find Billy, he wanted to go.  

When he finally found the voice, his head hurt.  Everything echoed, and the lights had halos, and he couldn’t think, his fingers twitching as his feet stumbled.  

He could hear rats.  The voice screamed and screamed, and then Billy was back.

“Shit,” he whispered, his fingers rough against Steve’s face.  “Harrington—Steve—can you—can you hear me?”

Steve nodded, grabbing him close and wondering wildly as his vision whirled whether it was Billy at all, or whether he’d lost his mind—but Billy smelled like Billy, like machine oil, and sweat, and the cheese snacks he carried to feed the rats that answered his call.  Unfamiliar, and good.

“The other girls are in the bathysphere,” Billy whispered, “—but I—” He laughed, shaking his head.  “I had to see if you were still...here.”

“The voice stopped,” Steve breathed into his shoulder.  “Was that you?”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Billy said.

“...can I leave here?” Steve asked.  “I think I...belong here.”

“That’s horseshit,” Billy said.  “You may have come from here.  But you—you get to—decide.” He bit his lips.  “...I wish you’d come with us.”

“...I’ll come, then,” Steve said, kissing him and letting his fingers slide over the edges of the mask, curious.

Billy raised his hand, hesitated, and then reached back and untied it, lifting it away to show a stubbly, mustached face with black veins running up the left side and into his eye.  He smiled, then looked up to see Steve’s face, and Steve embraced him again, cupping Billy’s face and pressing their foreheads together.  

“...you’re the only thing here that doesn’t feel right,” Steve whispered, and Billy flinched, turning his head away to hide the black veins, but Steve pulled him back.  “It means I want you...all on my own,” he whispered, and Billy huffed a soft laugh, yanking Steve upright, and hauled him along to the bathysphere.  

It was just as well.  The route to the bathysphere was just as nostalgic, and the controls came to Steve like he’d been born with them in his hands, while the girls and Billy shouted, pressed to the window.

“Get us out of here,” Billy called back.  “Thank god you can drive this thing.”

Steve took them to the surface, and they watched the bathysphere sink.  He counted the children, found they were all there, and took a deep breath into Billy’s hair.  

The air smelled new.

The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done