#before I got really good at salmon run? fuck you

[gardenofhope]

I very badly want to try to go for nines on the next spawning grounds rotation, and of course I have to work both days the rotation is on for. and for golden weekend too, but that’s on hydroplant, which is a map I already have gold on, so it’s not the end of the world.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

(DOMESTIC) SANEGIYUU HEADCANONS

Sanemi is ALWAYS the one cooking

I’m sorry but I can only see Giyuu fucking up scrambled eggs or something. Sanemi cooks (or bakes) like a professional

Giyuu having a bedhead (he’s adorable) and Sanemi waking him up by either:

throwing a pillow on his face

running his hands through his hair and a “good morning, shithead”

One or the other, no in betweens

Sanemi usually does the chores like laundry, cooking, etc (malewife<33)

Giyuu can do things if given clear instructions tho

Hmm showering together just as a habit

If either of them were mad at the other (or they js fought) before bed, they’ll probably distance themself on the futon

When they wake up they’re always cuddling though

ouugh yes they share a bed

(it was so awkward at first like “ok… i’ll have this side” but then they got comfy and steal each other’s pillows (so romantic smh))

Sanemi definitely holds a longer grudge

Giyuu gets upset if he gets ignore too long, though, and Sanemi eventually caves

Why do I feel like Sanemi would just take pictures or videos of Giyuu randomly

When he’s asleep, when he’s just woken up, when he’s eating, doesn’t matter

Because Sanemi’s in charge of meals usually, Giyuu only gets salmon daikon once a week (which is already a lot as is, but he begs Sanemi for it so…)

Sanemi used to braid/put up his siblings hair a lot and when the two are cuddling, sometimes he makes little braids in Giyuu’s hair, or pulls it up in a high ponytail (often Giyuu wakes up with braids and his hair gets a lil wavy when he takes it out later)

Giyuu’s the baby in the relationship you cant change my mind. He’s the little spoon; he’s being carried because he’s tired; he’s given breakfast in bed.

Sanemi honestly doesn’t mind (he’s used to this) but likes teasing Giyuu about it

Giyuu has a bow of Tsutako’s (he stole a spare) and wears it to formal places always. (job interview? bow. prom? bow. work? bow.)

Sometimes Giyuu helps Sanemi hang up the laundry but they somehow end up hugging always (Giyuu goes on the other side of the clothing line and ThEIr lEgS juST mOVed By THemSElf)

On weekends, when there’s nothing to do, Sanemi will just scroll through his phone and Giyuu watching TV

Giyuu can NEVER not fall asleep during a movie though. depends on the day but he’ll either fall asleep 20 mins in or half way through

Sanemi doesn’t really watch movies and just slowly turns down the volume then off to not startle him awake

I can see Sanemi just volunteering to babysit for their friends (for free<3) and just having a box full of children’s toys for when they come over

Giyuu once overfed a baby to near sickness (“I thought her grabby hands were for more :(��� - “YOU IDIOT, SHE WAS TRYING TO PUSH AWAY THE BOTTLE!!”) and was thereafter forbidden to care for the children (unless they were older than, like, 12)

After a stressful day at work, Giyuu likes flopping down on the couch and having Sanemi run his hands through his hair and hum a bit, maybe small talk

I think Giyuu is actually an open book and horrible at hiding his emotions (like canonically as a child he was like that, only the deaths changed him sooo) whilst Sanemi is better at hiding things

But like after years of living with Sanemi/js being with him, Giyuu has been able to see small telltales

When he’s lying, Sanemi’s eyes flick every so slightly away (so subtly that only a few have caught it before), when he’s upset, he’s a little clingier or his voice is calmer (though many people interpret it as tiredness), when he’s angry but trying to stay calm he’ll probably have a lot of clenched fists (his hand opening and closing x100) but behind his back haha

Why can I see them both as dry texters tho.

Giyuu tries to sound more upbeat by adding emojis/emoticons but overall it’s basically just “Ok 😁👍❤️😋😚✨🎆🎉🎊🎏🍩🔥” // 😭 yeah he doesn’t have a lot of people to text…

I can also see Sanemi being a little old fashioned in a way, idk… He knows perfectly fine how to use a phone and shit but for some time mostly sent letters (except for casual/small talk ofc)

ok that’s it i can’t think of anything else anymore!!

[thebearer]

please can i request reader being carmy's taste tester? something sweet and cute please i love your writing

omg thank you so much!!!!! <3 yes! fluffy taste tester blurb ahead with carmen berzatto! just an inside look at his banter with you!

"Ok, taste this." Carmen gave a final stir to the pot on the stove, tapping it firmly on the side before reaching for the small spoon.

You swung your legs, contently perched on the counter beside him- well, not beside him bc Carmen was sort of a maniac in the kitchen, a little chaotic and bounding around when he got in his rhythm. You sat out of the way, but close enough to still watch him, how electric and excited he got cooking. It made your chest swell.

"What's this one?" You hummed, leaning forward while Carmen came towards you, one hand cupping underneath the spoon to stop spillage, the other holding the spoon delicately.

"Uh, same thing. Added the cream and shallots to it, might add those black cherries if it still needs some sweetness..." Carmen rambled out loud, his mind already whirring with what he could add next.

You smiled, placing your hand on his wrist gently. "I thought the last one was good. Perfect." You added.

Carmen gave you a look, pointed and a little playful. "C'mon, it's not perfect." He shook his head. "Too salty with the veal and the steak. Maybe if it was salmon or chicken, something a little lighter it'd be alright, but-"

You giggled lightly, Carmen cutting himself off. He flushed, shaking his head lightly at his own ramble, lips curling with your infectious laugh. "Just open up for me."

You unhinged your jaw, eyes on Carmen's while he guided the spoon into your mouth, free hand cradling your cheek sweetly. You let the sauce swirl on your tongue, really taste it like Carmen was always yapping that you should.

"Mmm..." You hummed, eyes fluttering closed, the blend of spices and creams and sauces all dancing in a melody on your tongue. You weren't a chef, not by any means. You could barely make eggs, but you appreciated that Carmen valued your opinion.

"Good?" Carmen's eyes lit up, tinging with excitement for your approval.

"Really good." You nodded, beaming at him. You held the spoon in your hand, grinning at him. "I was wrong. This is perfect."

"Yeah? You think?" Carmen's fingers tapped anxiously on your thigh. "Are you sure with the Wagyu? Syd's making these creamy potatoes with a sauce that's already kinda creamy like this. Fuck, I-I just think it needs something sweet ya know? To break up the flavor palette-"

"-Carmy." You cooed, jumping down to pad towards him lightly. You wrapped your arms around his waist, hands gliding over his back, rubbing the toned- tense muscles through the soft cotton of his shirt. He relaxed into your touch. "Just slow down. Add the cherries if you think that would be best, but whatever you decide will be best. You know that."

Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head. "No, no, I don't." He muttered, face falling.

"You do." You hummed, running a hand through his hair, finger twirling around a curl. "You should."

Carmen felt the sides of his lips curls, the anxiety bubbling in his chest simmering down with a feeling of calmness at your words, soothed into your touch.

"Can you just... just taste it one more time, ok? And-And picture it with the steak." Carmen ran his hands sweetly down your arms, grabbing a spare pot. "I'll save some of this and add the cherries to the others, and we'll do the tasting tomorrow with everything and see what works."

You nodded, reaching for your spoon from before, dipping it into the sauce. Carmen turned around, eyes bulging gently. "Eh, eh! Hey!" He tsked, loud and startling you.

You stopped, staring at him in irritation. "What?" You huffed.

"Is that- is that a clean spoon?" Carmen's eyes flickered from you and the spoon.

"It's the one from before-"

"-Baby," Carmen gasped, like you had committed a federal offense- in his kitchen, it was. "I told you, don't dip a spoon in there you've had in your mouth! Fresh spoon! That's a health code violation, c'mon."

You rolled your eyes. "Carmy, it's just us."

"Ok, but-but, now you have your spit all in that."

"Doesn't the heat cook it out?"

Carmen scoffed, eyes rolling before pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, I-I can't believe you just... Now you got your germs all in my sauce."

"My germs?" You gawked, eyeing him carefully. "You don't want my germs now?"

"Not in my food." Carmen hummed, lips pressed to hide his smirk. He was a little wound tight, a little too strict about things he shouldn't be especially in the kitchen with you. He couldn't help it, and he was glad you found it amusing.

You scoffed loudly. "Please, Carmen. You act like we've never kissed before. You've had my spit in you all the time." You glared at him playfully.

Carmen couldn't help the blush he felt rising in his chest, heart hammering away lightly. "Yeah, but wasn't in my food."

"I think you'll be alright." You dismissed, setting the spoon down on the cabinet. Another twitch of his eye when there was a spoon rest right there.

"I hope so. Hope you don't have any germs-"

"-If I have any germs, they're yours." You eyed him knowingly, smug at the way he blushed.

"Watch it." Carmen pointed at you playfully, turning to wipe the counter with his rag, tossing the spoon in the sink. He waited a beat. "Get a clean spoon next time, please."

You laughed. "Oh my God, Carmen! You have literally eaten my ass before and this-"

"-Hey!" Carmen snapped at you through a feigned sternness that faltered with his glowing cheeks. You giggled, leaning back against the counter to watch him, all flustered and fighting a smile. "That's even more of a reason I don't want your germs in my food."

"More like your germs." You muttered, jumping back up on the counter, hips shuffling back to press your back to the cabinets.

"Easy." Carmen's eyes cut to yours, a stern look that had you flushing, tummy flipping with that familiar heat. "Don't get me distracted in here. I'll have you step out."

"Heard, Chef." You nodded exaggeratedly.

Carmen wasn't sure why he blushed hearing you say it, cock twitching behind his zipper at the words. "Get over here and help me stir this, please. Don't want it to burn. I'm gonna chop these cherries up."

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hello :3 I have an idea for a request.

Mk1 boys (Bi-Han, Kuai liang,tomas, liu kang, kung lao, Raiden, johnny, kenshi, syzoth and shang tsung) with wife pregnant reader (Any month, depending on what you want) wake up in the middle of the night craving something and scared to wake them up Because they are already tired and streets from their work and she start sobbing silently and the boys will wake up , what their reaction will be what will they do?

And what will they do when the reader says something like 'I'm fat I look big'

I know it's random and stupid But I read it from a manhwa and I really liked the idea

Soooo please 🥺🥺🥺

author note: the please with teary eyes got me. Also pregnancy cravings are "only" in the first three months, so reader is in that stage.

Bi-Han:

-He is a light sleeper so he heard your first sigh clearly.

-Bi-Han already doesn’t sleep much so go straight to the point or he’ll just go back to sleep (probably in another room).

-You do, and now he is in the kitchen in the middle of the night preparing milk and cereals.

-“Here you go.” He sits in front of you, eating his own bowl.

“Mh, Bi-han?”

“Could you put ice cubes in my milk?”

-He looks at you like you just said some crazy stuff, but he knows better and just does as you asked him. A happy smile now on your face pulling the corner of his lips upward.

-But then, while you are both enjoying your bowls in silence Bi-Han hears you sniffing again, fat tears rolling down your face.

“Now you’ll leave me because I’m fat and have terrible taste in food.”

-His spoon hangs in the air, mouth still open, hair resembling a bird nest. Bi-Han faces drip with annoyance.

-Then he pushes your spoon in your mouth, icy milk and cereals hitting your tastebuds.

“If you have to open your mouth do it to eat and not to say dumb shit. Now go back to eat, I’d never thought icy milk could taste this good…” He replies, pinching your cheek after you gulped down.

Kuai Liang:

-When he comes home and hears you cry, Liang runs to you worried for both you and the baby.

-“What happened fireball?”

“You were out working and-“

“And??”

“And I’m here crying like a whale because I want some marinated and grilled squid.” You let out in a single breath, before going back to sighing and crying.

-The breath of relief Liang let out moved continents.

-Liang isn’t a great cook, but he knows his way around the grill, so his chefs are lucky that Liang didn’t have to wake them up in the middle of the night.

-He looks at you eating with joy, his face laying on his fist, raising the apple of his cheek up.

-But then you get teary…what is happening?

-“You’ll leave me, right?” You say after you let out a sob.

“No, why?”

“Look at me eating like a pig! I’ll get fat and we won’t have sex anymore!” Tears roll down your face and Liang really doesn’t know what to say.

-“Even if you get fat I’m sure you’d be pretty cute.”

“Okay, then-“ You stand on your feet, chopsticks thrown at the table while Liang looks at you with the widest eyes ever. “Fuck me now!”

-…Liang? Hello? Are you still there?

-He can’t really understand what is going on, but Liang decides not to rack his brain over it, his warm hands already on your hips.

Tomas Vrbada: -He was already awake when you started crying, so he asks immediately what’s wrong.

-“I don’t want to bother you, you always work so hard but-“

“?”

“I want smoked salmon.”

-Ahhh Tomas' first experience with his partner’s cravings.

-He searches in all the fridges of Shirai Ryu but can’t find anything. Tomas is ready to catch a salmon with his teeth like a bear and smoke it himself to make you happy.

-And that’s exactly what Tomas does.

-The sight of him shirtless, mauling a salmon with the moonlight making the water droplets on his chest and back shine…was a sight that sadly nobody witnessed.

-“Tommy this tastes so good, it is so juicy and…fatty.”

Tomas feels the storm coming.

-“You’ll want me even when I’ll become as fat as a salmon?”

Tomas nods and gulps, knowing full well of the doom incoming.

-“Why are you lying?! Men are all the same!”

-If something, seeing his partner belly round with your offspring can just make Tomas hot under the collar. But it’s not like you’ll listen to him.

-He just waits head in hands for this outburst to calm itself, tiredness knocking you out. Tomas hopes sooner rather than later.

Liu Kang:

-You know what is the best part of defending the hourglass? Looking into it to anticipate his partner’s cravings!

-So you’ll never have to cry because Liu Kang is always ready to give you the craziest food ever.

-“Ohh Liu, you really are the best. Always ready to give me the food I crave…” Bad silence, Liu Kang starts to have goosebumps. “I know the game you are playing, bastard!” You push Liu Kang away from your arms, running away from him.

“What are you talking about, dear one?”

“You want to make me fat so you’ll have me all for yourself! You egoist! You selfish bastard!”

-Yeah, Liu Kang is a bit selfish. Yes, he wants you all for himself kilos more or kilos less. But he has to admit that it wasn’t his plan.

-“You are mistaken, dear.”

“Mh??”

“I always want you all for myself.”

“Ah! Even now!?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then take this-“ You finally run back into his arms, lips smashed against his ones. You try to pull him off, but now there is no way that Liu Kang will let you go.

- It’s time to show you how hot he finds you.

Kung Lao:

-Good luck with him because Lao is a heavy sleeper.

-He’ll notice that there is a problem the next morning when you see your puffy and red eyes.

“I didn’t want to bother you, but I had insane cravings last night.”

“Next time wake me up. I don’t mind.” He says hands on your shoulder before going to work.

-So, when the next night you try to wake him up, the need for cabbage stew is making you insane.

-Keyword: try.

-World could end and Lao would still be snoring.

-Next time is better to have cravings during the day because at night you’re on your own.

-Meanwhile, during the day Lao becomes more or less your butler…at least.

Raiden:

-“Hey sweety, don’t cry. What’s wrong?” Raiden turns around to look at you, index finger stroking your wet cheek.

“You must be so tired.”

“Yeah, a little. But I want to listen to you. What’s wrong?”

“I want to eat dango.”

“At this hour?”

“Please, Raiden.”

-He chuckles but lifts himself from the bed. But now Raiden thinks “Where I can find dango at this hour??”

-Raiden has a guardian angel; Madame Bo, with her insomnia problem for once being useful.

-And the lady will be more than happy helping Raiden's pregnant partner to fulfill one of their cravings.

-Not for free, tho…

-You won’t cry about weight with him. Even if your mind is hazed by hormones it still works well enough to know that he’ll always love you.

Johnny Cage:

-Another heavy sleeper, but if you push him around enough he’ll wake up.

-“Ehi babe, what’s wrong.”

“Johnny-“ He hears you sigh and finally wakes up, worried that you may be hurt.

“I’m in the mood for cream and strawberries, but at first I didn’t want to wake you-“

“Shhh babe-“ He presses his index finger on your lips “I’m here to help you.”

-He comes back soon, a cup filled to the brim that makes your eyes shine with joy.

-“Oh look, you have some cream here.”

His thumb brushes the corner of your lips. Then Johnny wanted to lick it, already smiling at his next action.

-But you move faster, your lips circling his thumb and licking it clean.

-Johnny looks at you, doe eyes looking back, your lips on his thumb, your nice and soft body next to him…

-The cup of strawberries will be soon forgotten.

Kenshi Takahashi:

-He comes back home from a mission and hears you crying. Kenshi is terrorized.

-Kenshi already has anxiety about leaving his partner alone at home, pregnant. Hearing you cry made him crumble.

“Are you fine!?”

“Oh, Kenshi!”

You run to him and hug his middle, he keeps you tight in his arms.

-“Please tell me, what happened!?”

“I’m sorry I don’t want to worry you. It’s nothing serious.”

Kenshi still isn’t calm.

“I just have a crazy craving for takoyaki with honey.”

Okay, his breath is calming down.

-He just returned home, every muscle screaming in pain, but for his partner, he’d do that and much more.

-Thankfully you always liked takoyaki so Kenshi had some ingredients at home, the others got bought in a nearby combini.

“Kenshi you are a real life saver.”

“It’s just my job.” He replies kissing the crown of your head, hands sliding down to massage your tummy.

“But next time just tell me you had a craving, I lost some years of my life.”

-Are those sniffs he is hearing? Oh no…

“I-I’m so sorry Kenshi-“

-He’ll never get used to mood swings.

Syzoth:

-His wife didn’t suffer from cravings, but Syzoth is ready for anything.

-Syzoth more or less always knows when your hormones are gonna hit, so he tries to put limit the incoming “damage”.

-The real problem is that Syzoth doesn’t know anything about human food! You are on your own. Ask your friends, you will have better luck.

-“You search for someone else when I’ll get fat, I know it!”

“You just want to knock me up!”

Syzoth knows your mind isn’t working well, hormones going crazy.

-But he also knows how to calm you down!

“I’d love you even if you became a worm, firefly.”

“The idea of you carrying our baby always fills me with joy.”

-Syzoth will also become more touchy-feely, his hands like to wander…

-Unless you get a crazy mood swing you’ll never doubt his love for you.

Shang Tsung:

-The diva won’t stop being a diva even if now you are pregnant and need his help.

-“Shang Tsung, please can you bring me orange juice.” You sob out, finally giving in into your cravings.

“I also want to conquer the world, but nobody will do it for me.” He replies back, eyes still closed.

-He gives in at the nth sigh. Shang Tsung may not be so unaffected by you.

-He returns soon, a glass filled with orange juice. But he doesn’t sit next to you.

“Anything else before I go back to sleep? You know I don’t like my sleep time being interrupted.”

“No Shang Tung, thank you.”

-He sighs and lies down, you soon follow him.

-“You don’t love me anymore, right?”

A heavy breath leaves his nose.

Damn you.

-“Are you trying to make me laugh? We both know who is the good liar here.”

“That’s why you may not love me. You lied the entire time!”

-Shang Tsung isn’t ready for this conversation.

-His lips end on yours, tongue intruding into your mouth, a moan escapes your throat.

-You may not trust his words, but Shang Tsung hopes he’ll fuck you good enough that his emotions will be understandable through your thick skull.

Bonus:

Tell us about the manwha!

[tacticaldiary]

Shaped With Love

PAIRING: Miya Osamu x Reader

SYNOPSIS: "Still with me?" He asks and it takes a second before she realises that a normal person would respond quicker. It's all static and white noise in her head, you can't blame her for being a little late to the game.

All that comes out is a half strangled hum of agreement.

NOTE: All fanfic is timsekip. I'm taking requests!

Masterlist

Over her shoulder, Osamu clicks his tongue.

"Stop hovering, you're distracting me!" She protests, trying in vain to cover as much of the embarrassingly misshapen riceball in her hands from view.

"I'm not even touchin' ya, baby." He snickers.

"Might as well be." Vaguely she wonders how the fuck shaping rice can be this hard. Five whole minutes later and she can still see the salmon filling peeking out. It's humiliating really, her only saving grace is the absence of Suna and his camera.

"That an invitation?" He says, voice low with a boyish charm that makes her pause and turn around questioningly. "Well if ya insist."

He crowds her back into the counter with a grin, warm hands running up and down her waist affectionately before they spin her back around. Her face flushes hot when his warm chest presses against her back, strong arms winding around her to rest on top of her own.

Caged in.

It's comfortable. Familiar, and despite the embarrassment that still faintly prickles at her, she finds herself relaxing, leaning back into him. He notices, if the silent laugh she feels vibrate deep in his chest is anything to go by.

Gently, he pries apart her hands to get a look at the mess.

There's a beat of silence. A low whistle.

"Damn, this is outta my paygrade, doll." He laughs, tightens his hold when she tries to wriggle out of it, affronted. "Quit that, I'll help ya out." Tossing...whatever that shape was to the side, he scoops some fresh rice out of the pot, the filling out of the pan.

"Ya gotta be gentle, yeah? Overworkin' the rice ruins it shape." He explains, guiding her hands to start shaping it into a triangle. It's coming together much better and far more quickly than when she's tried to solo it, but it difficult to pay attention.

Not when Osamu speaks in that quiet, patient baritone right next to her head, hot breath fanning across her ear. The hands around hers are calloused and much larger. Capable and steady as the guide her, and she fights the urge to tug them up to press a kiss to the pads of his fingers.

"Still with me?" He asks and it takes a second before she realises that a normal person would respond quicker. It's all static and white noise in her head, you can't blame her for being a little late to the game.

All that comes out is a half strangled hum of agreement.

"Good." Is all he says. She'd bet her savings that he's got that smug half smile on his face, amusement twinkling in his eyes. She's seen him make these before, it doesn't take this long. Osamu's dragging it out, the bastard knows exactly what he's doing.

"There, ya did it." He finally says shifting to brace himself on either side of her, chin hooking over her shoulder. "It's easy."

Miraculously, the onigiri he leaves in her hands is a perfect triangle, as good as the ones he packs to sell.

"Of course it's easy when you do it." She turns around in his arms. "You could do this in your sleep."

"It's just practice." He responds easily, watching her take a bite. "Not gonna share?" He raises a brow, smiling when she shoves at his chest playfully.

"No way, you're too smug-"

He presses close and kisses her, taking care to snake a hand behind to the small of her back so the counter doesn't dig into her when she leans back over it.

The food is forgotten, a pleasant warmth in her cheeks and a buzzing in her blood when he pulls away, staring at her in thought.

"What?" She giggles, a little puzzled.

"Nothin'." Osamu brushes their lips together with a smile. "Just thinkin' I should've made more fillings if I got to taste them off ya like this."

A smug laugh rumbles out of him as she buries her face in his shoulder.

Reblog, Like and Comment! Requests Are Open!

(28/08/2024)

[katz-chow]

slip ‘n slide

18+, smut

having sex with soap is always a little adventure. from start to finish, you don’t know what’s really going on other than his ass is horny, corny, and absurdly cocky.

take for instance now when you’re so exhausted from a bbq-pool party at the community pool that you were both invited to. the heat of the sun was starting to give you a tension headache but you didn’t really care when soap’s hoochie-daddy, 5 inch (12.7 cm) inseam, salmon pink swim shorts were on full display right in your face when you looked up from your phone.

“lass, people are starting to head home,” you look up at him and he kneels down to your chair to look you in the eye.

damn his manners, you liked the view… “let’s head home yeah? the sun’s setting anyway” you gathered your stuff and the two of you started to head home at a rather lightning quick speed as you were being rushed “i’m hungry let’s get food” you were hungry, but he also looked so good.

“no, i’ll cook” he didn’t look at you, his eyes rather being on the road, but he squeezed your thigh

“if you insist”

you walked in, soap dropped your stuff on the floor and locked the door; before you could go anywhere though, he pulled your back into his chest and pressed his growing cock into your ass. he fucking whines.

so that’s why he was rushing home

shower was on in an instant, clothes were thrown in the sink, and his lips were on yours as the water was aimed towards your chests.

he leans into your ear, “so wet hm? like a slip ‘n slide?”

ah there it is, your silly johnny. you laugh out loud and he chuckled at your reaction. “like a slip ‘n slide yeah? you gonna slip your pool noodle in?”

“you’re ridiculous, obviously i am, bonnie”

“oh i’m ridiculously? you just called me a slip ‘n slide!”

he slams his lips into yours to shut himself up.

the steam was starting to build up from the running water but you both didn’t care, let it fog up the mirrors. johnnys arms hooked themselves underneath your thighs. “jump up”

“i’ll fucking slip johnny”

“please?” damn his puppy dog eyes

you did as your told and surprisingly he catches you. “told you, love” the tip of his cock twitches as he lowers you onto it, slowly encasing it in your walls.

it was fine for a while but not everything is meant to last unfortunately. his pace got erratic and he pulled back rather a bit too far and caused his feet to get unbalanced. “fuck..lov-OH FUCK”

your mind went blank as as johnny, living up to his name, slipped like a bar of soap causing you to land with him.

“you ok bonnie?”

“yeah you?”

“my ass hurts but my cock’s fine, isn’t that right?” he flops it around with his hand. “oh for sure johnny!”

“jesus christ…let’s get outta here”

[kaliforniahigh]

I decided to write a HC about Noah dating a girl with ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder)

This is solely based on my experience. Even though I'm not professionally diagnosed, all the evidence and my selective eating points to ARFID.

And I just know he would be the sweetest.

Let's start with the first date. They were always nerve-wracking for you, because he told you he would be picking the place. But what if it had no options for you?

Other dates had gone south because of this. You hearing things along the lines of "why are you such a picky eater?" "you're an adult, you should eat everything!"

It goes without saying you've been out of the dating scene for a while. But something told you that Noah was different. He was very kind and caring, it was difficult for you to picture him being an asshole to you like the other ones.

Once you get to the restaurant, you start to scan the menu, hoping he isn't one of those people who like to order for each other.

Salmon, fish, oyster... as you keep reading, the fear gets worse and worse, because sea food is really NOT your thing.

But then you get to the kids menu and your eyes finally land on the chicken and fries plate.

Noah obviously notices this, and he obviously thinks he fucked up because why the hell would he not ask you if you liked sea food before picking the restaurant??

"You don't like sea food, do you?" He asks with a shy smile.

"It's not that I don't li-" "You can say you don't like it, it's totally fine, I won't be upset or anything" so you tell him that it's actually not your preferred food.

He stands up from his seat and extends his hand for you to take "c'mon, let's go eat something we're both going to enjoy. I'm not gonna let us have a shitty first date"

You're honestly shocked, because he is going out of his way to make sure you enjoy tonight.

The months pass and he notices habits you have. Like pushing aside some things on your plate, or checking your burger to see if everything is ok. And he really wants to ask, but he doesn't know how. And he doesn't want to offend you.

The day he really can't help it is when he invites you backstage to a show he is performing. In the rush that is everything before a concert, he really doesn't notice you don't eat anything from the catering table.

You give him a kiss for good luck and take your place side stage to watch him.

Towards the end of the concert, he notices you're gone. But he just thinks it's a bathroom break or something of the sort.

He thanks the fans, they throw the towels and guitar picks and he heads backstage when someone stops him. "Hey, man. You should check on Y/N, she doesn't seem like she's very well"

He frowns and runs to where you are, noticing that you are, in fact, very pale, your hands are shaking and cold.

"What happened, baby?"

"I just need to eat something, I'll be fine"

"When was the last time you ate? Here, we have food around here, grab a plate" He starts to look around but notices you're not on the same wavelength as he is with this.

So you have no other option but to tell him. The hard time you had as a kid, the never eating from the school cafeteria, or your parents not being able to go to restaurants because you don't eat anything there.

The patronizing looks you got when you told people you don't eat hot dogs. Or soup. Or sushi. Or sea food.

After this, he always makes sure he walks around with a safe snack for you. He calls hotels to make sure they have safe options for you to eat for breakfast. Checks every restaurant menu beforehand. Talks to his tour management about food options for the catering they have.

But he also encourages you to eat different things. So he always buys things he thinks you're going to enjoy. He says it's a win-win situation, because if you don't eat it, then he can have it himself.

I would like to write more on this topic, so if you have suggestions, you can send them!

[bibyvariable]

Salmon Run

A HEFTY VOICE MESSAGE FROM LOUISE CARRIGAN TO HER WIFE, ANNE DAVIS, FALL 17770.

Immortality’s a funny thing. I think—I think I forgot how to struggle. Before us, I mean. You know, back home in Alaska. Yeah, of course there was always some kinda crap, but mostly it was the same stuff day-in-day-out. I’d go to work in the morning and leave work in the afternoon. My job was important, sure, but I’d been doing it so long it just felt like busywork. The day I got my position, though, it felt good. That was what, almost sixteen thousand years ago? Way before we met... Isn’t that crazy? I lived almost a hundred and sixty lifetimes before I met you. It definitely didn’t feel like it.

Anyways, on with the message—sorry, this one’s gonna be a devil to listen to. Tell your brother I say hi, by the way! I’m only about 9 hours to Asheville now. Might be a tad more, ‘cause the truck tire just popped. You know, it was just some nail lying about on the road. And the thing is, the roads here are real nice! Wonder what that nail was a part of…

ANYWAYS, for real this time, I was finally doing something to give back to the environment. Lord, we really fucked everything up. When I took the job, the chinook runs were really bad. I mean, so many of those salmon were dying during the run or before the run and it was just hell at the fishery. It got better, of course. It all got better, but then there wasn’t this constant stress anymore. After a while they were fine. Still needed management, but it wasn’t as crazy as it used to be. No more fighting with the fishermen ‘cause they didn’t live off of it, you know. Most of the people who fished then were just hobbyists and families—didn’t need much management then. So I went to work and I picked up any book I had lying around the house. This was before I went to college for the first time, so it was just everything I had from high school.

So I started reading Catcher in the Rye, you know, with Holden Caulfield and that hunting hat of his? And I was reading it at work and he said something that kinda snapped me out of everything. He said, “mothers are all slightly insane.” And you know what, that really got me thinking. My mom had been gone a while and I’d been at peace with it a while, too. There were hard days and there will always be hard days, but what I really missed was something she used to do when I was in high school. You know how much of a shit I was then, I took nothing seriously, and you know, she’d always tell me, “God’s watching, Louise.” It wasn’t in too serious a tone, but man, she said it all the damn time. And whenever I fumble one of your absolute dimes, I hear her in my head, going “God’s watching, Louise.” And she had that real thick Appalachian accent too—if you thought mine was bad, you shoulda met her. And I’d tell her right back, “Oh I know he’s watching. Bet he’s cracking up watching me stumble ‘cross the field.”

Anyways, back then when I worked at the fishery, I never did anything that would make her say that. Nothing that was crucial—you know, critical, in-the-moment stuff that God would wanna be watching. I had so much time there. I still have so much time here. And so one day I went out to one of the rivers and I looked at all the salmon, swimming upstream and strugglin’ forever against the current. And I said to myself, I wanna do that. I wanna feel anxious again. I wanna be embarrassed again. I want to trip over my own shoelaces in the middle of the big game.

And it’s kinda funny, cause after that happens, you’re like, “good Lord Above, I never wanna experience that ever again.” But it’s a lie, cause when things get too good, then they’re not good anymore, you know? And I guess that why we do it. Why I keep going back to college even though school’s always my least favorite thing in the whole wide world. And why I keep trying new sports even though the only one I’m good at is that damned football. Hey, I mean, hockey’s fun, but Christ am I a crap skater.

And I guess most important, it’s how I met you—Lord do I remember that! Spillin’ my water and all that fuss. Damn near our whole relationship was swimming upstream, you know that? But shit if it wasn’t worth it. Everything was worth it. I mean, I’ll probably use that radiochemistry knowledge somewhere…

Well, I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. I was just thinking and didn’t want to forget anything. But now I’m rambling again. Sorry bout that. Lord, now this thing’s gonna be like an hour long! I’ve gotta quit while I’m ahead. Love you, babe. See you tomorrow.

[steviewashere]

Discombobulated by The Disembodied

Rating: Teen and Up (May Change)CW: Graphic Depictions of Violence/Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Blood & GoreCharacters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Vecna, Other Characters to Be AddedTags: Canon Re-write, Canon Divergence, Season 4, Vecna's Curse, Steve Harrington Gets Vecna'd, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington's Friendship, Steve Harrington Has Nightmares, Traumatized Steve Harrington, Mild Humor, Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma, Steve Harrington Has Migraines, Worried Robin Buckley, Mentions of Steve's Bad Parents, Other Tags To Be Added WC: 4,177

Season four rewrite where Steve gets targeted instead of Max. More to be added eventually, but here's chapter one! Enjoy! <3

Or, read it on AO3 Over Here!

🪦—————🪦 A bloody nose isn’t good for business. Not when it drips down onto the case he’s holding. Staining the pristine white edge with a rich pool of his warm blood. He’s never done well at the sight of it. And knows damn well she won’t allow him to just walk around Family Video with a wad of toilet paper up his nostril. “Robin,” he calls out towards the back room.

“What d’ya want Steve? I’m on break!” She shouts. Her mouth is full of something. Probably fries, if the smell of grease in the air says anything.

“Um—I—Don’t freak out!”

“You know that as soon as you say something like that, I’m going to do it regardless. Now, what’s wrong?! Use your big boy words!”

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes. Finger laying flat against his nostrils, head tilted towards the ceiling. The flow won’t stop. He pinches. Voice high pitched and embarrassingly similar to Kermit the Frog, “I’ve got a bloody nose! I’ll go to the bathroom and clean it up, already half way there. Just need somebody to watch the counter.” And since he’s honest, he’s in the men’s restroom before she has the chance to even open the break room door.

It’s a mess. His hand is coated in his own blood, already drying between his fingers, caught in the life lines. A faint ring of red on the edge of his right nostril. Damp spot above his lip, caught in the little bit of mustache hair he’s got, tacky. It’s on the tip of his tongue when he catches a little bead between his lips. He wets a paper towel and dabs at the stains on his face. The white paper turning hideously pink. Almost salmon. Wrings it out under the steady stream of warm water from the tap, watching as the blood washes away in little swirls. This has to be the most inconvenient time to get a nose bleed. But every single time has been inconvenient. Is there convenience in blood on his face?

He sighs when he’s finally clean. And takes a good look at himself in the mirror. Dark circles and oily skin. Shaking hands. Dark pink lips—stained. “Get it together,” he mutters, “rent’s due in a few days. Need all the money you can get.” He runs his hand over his face, grimacing at the flakes of blood that come away from his sweaty palm. “Fuck.”

When he’s back on the sales floor, he has to force the annoyed sigh back down his throat. Robin’s already looking at him. Wide eyed and reaching out. “I’m fine,” he automatically says. She’s got questions, he knows this. Will he answer? Most likely not.

“There’s no way you’re fine, Steve!” She says in return, exasperated. It’s her signature catchphrase. “That’s the fifth nose bleed in the last like…four days? You should really—“

“Get it checked out. I know, Robbie. I can’t do that and you know that.”

She grumbles some sort of profanity under her breath, missed by Steve’s slow shuffling towards the counter. “Steve, I’ll literally…give you my paycheck for the rest of your rent if it means you’ll get checked out by a doctor,” she attempts to bargain.

“I’m not taking your money, you need that, too,” he rebuttals. “And I’m not going to a doctor. I don’t have insurance. It’ll get better, I’m sure. We have nothing to worry about.” Though when he looks down at the cases on the counter, stretching to take one, his hands are shaking. Of course he’s worried. He’s had concussions and enough doctor visits in the last three years, it’s enough to finally make his parents tut and coo over him. He’s heard all about brain damage and risks and all the other garbage. What’s nose bleeds on top of that? Just a minor setback. But also, maybe it does mean something. Maybe he’ll die in his sleep, too much blood on his pillow. He’s not sure. The doctor would prescribe him something, probably. Though, doctors aren’t his forte. Not after last summer.

“What if it’s cancer?” Robin oh-so helpfully supplies.

“It’s not cancer,” Steve drones.

“What about a brain bleed?”

“Think I’d know if that was happening.”

“What about—“

“Robin,” Steve interrupts firmly. “Your little diagnostics are not helping. And I wish you’d stop for the sake of my own sanity. I’ll get it figured out eventually. Now’s just not the time.”

He grabs the tape he had before, wiping at its edges with a sanitary wipe. The cloth is pink in his hand. Just like it’d been in the bathroom. He knows that she’s right. She always is, or at least mostly to some degree. But he can’t miss work. Not when he’s got groceries to buy and bills to pay and rent to cover. Not when he’s on his own, no longer covered by his parents.

“When will be the right time? Because at this rate, Steve, it’ll be when you’re covered in your own blood and dead on the floor.” She moves behind him. Standing all too close to his back. He moves away. Her hand falling back down to hit the side of her thigh. “Why won’t you just let me worry? Let me in, y’know. I’m your best friend, you can trust me.” He hates how wounded she sounds. A strain in the back of his throat. The lurching in the pit of his stomach.

“I do,” he weakly murmurs. “I’m just fine with handling this kind of stuff. Not like I haven’t done it before.”

“But you have your own place. You have independence. You’ve got your friends,” Robin lists. Voice rising in urgency and volume. “They want to help you. They want to give you what your parents couldn’t, Steve! That’s part of my purpose! To just be there!”

He sighs. Bends himself in half over the counter, forehead resting on his open palm. The aching tinge of a migraine settling uneasily behind his eyebrows. They’re getting more frequent, too. He’s already out of his prescription medication for this bullshit. Now reliant on Tylenol, and ibuprofen, and weed from Eddie Munson. It’s been weeks since he’s been able to just go about his day, normally and at peace. Haunting nightmares. Whispered voices in cold silences. Getting high just to cover up the pain that doesn’t even recede when he’s finally out of his mind. It’s bad that he’s got Robin yelling at him. Bad that he wants to cave, give in. Knows that he can’t, though. It’s all such bullshit. “I’d ask for your help,” he grits, “But it wouldn’t do much good.”

She exhales sharply over his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to fucking mean?” Her voice bites.

“It means,” he drags on, voice going weaker and weaker by the second, “means that I’ve tried everything. And nothing you could do is going to help me right now. That’s all I meant. I’m not—You know I’m not that guy anymore.” A part of him wants to cry. Grovel at her feet. Chomp down on the side of the counter and sob into the surface, sounds muffled by the formica. But he stays bent over his own hands. Knees forward and ready to crouch down. His hair flops into his eyes. It’s almost laughable how he keeps forgoing his normal hair care routine, but knows that it’s cause for concern, too. What the hell happened to me, a small part of him wonders. The rest of him is just caught up in Robin. What she thinks of him. Why she sticks around for somebody like him.

Steve stands from his stupor. To look back. Her eyes are forlorn towards the doors. Body tight and still. “I don’t know how you can help,” he mutters. “I’d ask if—“

“I know,” she quickly interrupts. “Doesn’t mean you have to be alone, though. I—I’m gonna head back to the break room. Have the rest of my lunch. Take yours in fifteen minutes, alright?” Her eyes find him. And for once, her eyes that are normally excited and curious and welcoming, are dull and closed off. “I want you to eat today. Bounce back. Be yourself.”

He nods once. A finality to it. “Right. Yeah, I’ll take my lunch soon. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be normal.”

“Then don’t be normal. Just be Steve. Be the guy I’m friends with. Not some…Some self conscious jerk who won’t let his best friend worry. Because she does. Do that. A lot. But only because she loves you and doesn’t like the idea of you being dead. So don’t do that. Don’t die because you’re being an ignorant moron.” He laughs, loud and belly forward. Something in him sparkles, glinting gold and honey-like when she smiles at him. Even as she tries to hide it from his sight. She chuckles herself and walks by him, but not without throwing a fake-out punch to his arm. “Fries are calling my name, Steve-O. Practically screeching for me to eat them.”

“Go eat, you dork,” he chokes out through his fit of giggles. Stomach clenching with the words. “I’ll still be here, you know that.”

“You better be, Steve Harrington. Or I’ll find you and kill you myself.”

“Not unless somebody gets to me first,” he fires at her back, already half way through the break room door.

She flips him off. Good natured. Chipped nail polish gleaming in the Family Video light. Her voice is muffled by the swinging door. “Don’t be a stranger! Maybe close up! Come chow down! I’ve got your stupid burger with yellow mustard, you freak!” Before he can dignify that with a response, the bell above the front doors chimes. He schools himself.

His headache festers. And he swears, for a moment, that somebody whispers his name.

——— Before he sleeps, he pops three Tylenol. Technically, he’s not supposed to. But he’s also out of weed. And what he’d normally take for migraines. This goddamned headache won’t leave him. It went from a dull ache within the last four days to a throbbing, pulsing mass at the back of his head. And, sure, maybe he should go to a doctor. Not now. Not with what his brain will surely create for him tonight.

He’s tried just not sleeping. But then he’s too groggy in the morning. Running off of tepid cups of coffee and whatever candy he grabs from the rack in Family Video. While it’s not ideal, the suffering in his sleep, he knows that he’ll have to shut his eyes. Sweat through his clothes. Get caught in the blankets like a mouse in a trap.

It takes a while. The all encompassing brownish-black behind his eyelids to swallow him whole. But it does. Sucking him in, tying him down to the mattress, shoving him further and further into the indent his body makes.

———— He can hear them screaming through the large metal door. The separation growing farther and farther as he sits. Strapped to the chair. Eyes pointed and unblinking at the door. Nauseous and off-kilter, but so damn afraid. Terrified as another screech breaks through the underside of the door.

They shouldn’t have come down here. No matter how enticing this secret code was. No matter if he knew where the music was coming from. He knew that it was stupid. That all of this was a bad and awful idea. And now he’s got two basically brand new people roped into his and Dustin’s bullshit.

The screams fade. Walls crumbling around him. He’s stuck to the chair.

Trapped. His labored and panicked breathing echoing between the floor and the endless abyss that cages him in on all four sides. Beyond where the door was, he sees them.

He tries. Tries really hard to look away. To find a corner or a stain by his shoe or a stray ice cream cone crumb on his uniform, but to no avail. His eyes remain glued to where the door should still be. Where it should be shielding him from this gnarly, unsightly, gruesome view.

Robin Buckley is a tangle of broken limbs and matted blonde hair, smeared lipstick and plucked black fingernails. Her sneakers are soaked in red, covering the doodles he’s seen before, smearing whatever ink was previously there. The white on her uniform is unmistakably pink. Her face…Steve doesn’t recognize it. Features smashed in, bloodied, or missing. Eyes no longer blue. Just two black holes. Suggestions for where eyeballs should go. And he veers his line of sight just to the left of her slumped body, all crooked and messy on the bench they’ve thrown her on. There, on the ground by her rolled over left foot, is her eyeballs. Piercing blue and retina tailed.

Dustin Henderson is also more broken bones than put together human. His curls are frizzy, stained with red, sticking tacky to his forehead. A bloodied pile of teeth lay rotting next to his corpse. His hat is too far away for him to reach. Hands tied behind his back and strained, rubbed red raw on his wrists. T-shirt worn from camp instead ripped and jumbled, stained with crimson, and sticky to his body.

Erica Sinclair. She’s only twelve years old. He can’t look any longer. At what he couldn’t prevent. What he should’ve been able to save. They’re all kids, a part of him realizes. He’s the only one there who’s an adult, who’s had the chance to graduate high school, who’s alive.

A presence lingers behind him. He dares not turn his head.

But a disembodied voice accompanies the lingering shadow towering over his soon-to-be corpse.

“Steve Harrington…Your time is up.” ————

He startles awake in his bedroom. It’s dark. The black inkiness undefinable in the space around him. Filled with the white noise of silence. His clothes are wet with sweat. Limbs locked straight and stiff at his sides. Eyes centered to the foot of his bed.

There’s nobody there, which he wants to believe. But Steve swears, in this torturous moment, a figure stands over him. Tangled in its own flesh. A singular white eye. Dangling claw-like hand brushing the comforter tucked insecurely at his feet. It’s mouth remains still and closed and absent of lips. He swears it. He hears it. “Steve Harrington,” the figure seems to whisper. Voice deep and rumbling. Disembodied from all sides.

He swears it comes from the figure. He knows it does. It has to. But the next time he blinks.

Eyelids squelching with the tears he couldn’t sense.

The figure is gone. Dissipated. He knows he won’t sleep again. Searching the room, eyes going right towards his night stand, the alarm clock reads 3am. It was worth a try. Managed a good five hours somehow. It’s something.

It’s enough as he peels himself from bed and stumbles to the bathroom. It’s enough when he reemerges in a towel with sopping wet hair. It’s enough when he idles in his car outside of the shitty apartment complex he’s managed for himself.

It’s enough to wonder if what he foresaw was just a figment of his imagination.

For now, however, he pulls out of the parking lot. Riding slow and careful to Robin’s house. Today’s the day of the championship game. And he’ll be damned if he misses it.

——— “You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Robin drawls. She doesn’t have to look at him to know that it’s the truth. Her eyeball is practically pressed against the passenger’s visor mirror. Applying her mascara with fingers prying the eye open, tongue squished between her teeth, nostrils flared in concentration.

Steve scoffs. “It’s just early, man. Not that weird.” He rolls his shoulders as much as he can with his hands extended to his steering wheel. Sometimes he wishes she weren’t so perceptive. Or that she only noticed him when he was down on his luck about his dating pool, not his existence. He blinks sluggishly, the road blurring for a brief moment. He should’ve had more coffee or something this morning. Being alert is important. Being aware. Being ready, especially after what he saw last night.

“It is a little,” she mutters, still hyper-focused on her makeup. “I mean—Usually, you’d be melting my ears off with some discussion about your dating life. How much it sucks. What you’re looking for. Your success in bed the night before.” Finally, she pulls herself away from the visor, open mascara tube in hand, and stares long at his profile. “Did you even go on your date yesterday? That girl…What was her name…From the other day? Thought you scored a movie with her or something.”

He shakes his head. Eyes vigilant to the road. “Heidi. Her name is Heidi, first of all.”

“Okay, Heidi. Her name is Heidi. Did you go on a date with her? Or are you going to tell me how she isn’t the right person? Because you aren’t eager to. Which means one of many things: she’s going out of state for school, she’s more interested in your douchebag dad, she thought that you could get her a word in with Tommy the Horrid, or she almost bit your dick off while giving you a blow-ie and now you’re too afraid of a girl with a little bite to her bark.”

“Hey! The girl that almost bit my dick off had serious teeth to her, dude! I have every right to be afraid of somebody making a snack outta my dick,” he objects. “Besides, I wouldn’t know about Heidi because I didn’t even call her!”

Robin sucks in between her teeth. “Low blow, Steve-O.”

“I forgot!”

She groans. “That’s even worse, Steve,” she bemoans. “It’s like objectively terrible to forget to call the girl that you asked out. If anything, I should’a called her and taken her up on the movie.”

“Oh, come off it,” Steve shoots. “God forbid a guy forgets every once in a while.”

“God forbid a girl accidentally bites your dick,” Robin mumbles under her breath. She leans forward before Steve can refute and turns up the music on the radio. Her nose crinkles immediately. “Tears For Fears…Again? It’s the exact same tape as yesterday!”

Steve just shrugs in response. Sure, it is the same tape. But also, it’s keeping that lingering whisper at bay. He’s made almost a science out of it. Whenever he prickles with a floundering sense that he’s being watched, he plays the first few seconds of their song, “Watch Me Bleed”. It works, though. Brain zeroing in on just the voices emanating from the tape’s delicate nature. He plays it in his Walkman at work. During his break. From the stereo in his car. The sound system he stole from his parents. Wherever he can fit the music like caulk between tiles, that’s where the whispers don’t reach him.

She sighs at his non response. “Alright, what’s going on with you?” She finally asks. “We’ve been in this car for like fifteen minutes. You won’t talk to me about girls. You won’t ask me why I’m getting all dolled up or whatever. And now you’re listening to, admittedly, the most heart wrenching Tears For Fears album I have ever heard. At least so far.”

“Does there have to be something wrong with me to listen to Tears For Fears?”

“Yes. When it’s depressing, there absolutely needs to be something going on with you. Talk to me,” she eggs, slapping the back of her left hand on his bicep. He winces at the sound. “Let me in Steve or I’m gonna ban you from picking movies at work.”

He gasps, offended. “You wouldn’t!”

“I’ll turn on The Apartment everyday I work with you this week. Swear on it, I will. Let me in or there will be dire consequences.”

He shifts in his seat. And for the first time in the whole drive, he pulls his line of sight over to Robin. She stares back. But he can’t actually bring himself to look. Not at her eyes or where her lipstick might be smudged. Or at her fingernails, no matter the color they’re painted right now. He finds a freckle between her eyebrows instead. “Okay, fine,” he mutters. “I’ve been having nightmares, that’s all.” And then he’s back at the road. The long and stretching road. An uneasy silence around all aspects of his car. It’s not usually this vacant. But something is changing, shifting. Lurking, he can sense it.

“Just nightmares? Or does this have to do with the bloody noses and chronic headaches you’ve been getting, too?” Of course she knows what to ask. The exact questions he doesn’t like answering.

He shrugs once more. “I don’t know, Robbie. Maybe. Probably doesn’t help my headaches when I get less sleep than needed. The nose bleeds are their own issue, I think.”

“See, this is why you should be going to a doctor. They’d actually know, y’know? Instead of speculating all this garbage.”

“Robin—“

“I’ll drop it. For your sanity. But, come on, it’s not weird to you? Not at all. All these things suddenly happening in your life. Practically mingling and making out in the corners. There has to be—“

He can’t listen to this any longer. To her paranoid ramblings. The what ifs and possibilities. At the next red light, he slams harder than necessary on the breaks. Hands squeezing the steering wheel tightly. Pointedly looking at his white knuckle grip. Tears simmer in his eyes. But he can’t. Can’t do this. The next swallow of spit he takes is harsh and agitating on his throat. “Why are you putting on so much makeup? Nobody has ever cared that much about a pep rally. Why do you suddenly care about this pep rally?” He interrogates.

Except, while he’d been expecting a long and agitated ramble that turned all too sappy, there’s silence. An odd and tense type of silence. Drawn with charcoal and engulfed in flames. His chest drops inwards, stomach swooping towards his throat, and his breath grows choked and distant from himself. He doesn’t move his eyes. For fear that the tangled flesh of that unidentifiable late night visitor will be wearing Robin’s scent. Doused in her perfume, but wickedly tall and bent. He doesn’t look. Not even when the recognizable drag of claws grows sharp and mean on the back of his right hand. Even as they curl into the cuff of his jacket. Even as the fabric bunches with the movement. Crinkling like plastic. And for a moment, it’s like he’s ground beef stowed behind plastic wrap on a grocery store shelf. Awaiting some fate. A fate somehow like death. Death after death.

“Steve,” it whispers. Definitely not Robin. Deep and masculine and vibrating. He swears the voice echoes in his chest. In his head. But he favors the steering wheel. Doesn’t want to confirm something he made up. He’s making this up. He has to be.

“Steve,” it tries again. The claws on his hand press firmer. He winces. But doesn’t move. Doesn’t pull away. Even if it could take him at any moment. Even if it could diffuse his suffering. Even if it would rid him of the crawling under his skin that he’s tried to lock away for the last three years.

The next time, “Steve,” is said again, it’s Robin. Shaking his hand. Firmly pushing into his skin. Panicked and sharp and loud by his ear. He blinks, shifting, whipping his head to see her. Her piercing blue eyes perfectly placed in their sockets, fitted by black mascara and her lips a shiny pink, freckles, shaking voice, meticulously styled bob. “Steve, hello? What the hell—Where’d you just go?”

He flits over his surroundings. Pulled to the side of the road. Idling with the engine on. The tape done and over. How long have I been out of it, he has to wonder, and how did I get over here from the road? “I—I don’t know what that was,” he musters. “Lost in thought, I guess.”

“Is your head up your own ass or something? Made me have to pull over and emergency brake, you asshole.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmurs, “must be more tired than I thought.” His hands go back to the steering wheel. The leather squeaks under his sweaty grip. It’s solid where he touches. The only thing he can hear are his hands and her breath. He sighs with exhausted relief. “So,” he chirps, “getting ready for Vickie, right?” He deflects. “She definitely likes boobies. And you like boobies. Match made in heaven.”

For a moment, Robin’s eyes flash with something like grievance. A worry. But she schools her expression and scoffs. A tight, tight laugh. “Don’t call them that!” She squawks.

If he continues to egg her on, he can pretend like there isn’t something breathing down his neck. Can pretend, too, that he doesn’t feel the need to be ready. For danger. For imminent peril. For his death.

🪦—————🪦 More to come later, but take this for now. Basically throwing you a bone. Whoops. Chew on this for a bit while I think about how to keep the narrative going.

[rainyfestivalsweets]

Slim Pickins

9/1/24

Ever seen those reels or tik toks that tell you to run to the dollar tree?

Ya'll. Is dollar tree sponsoring just an epic shitton of those videos?

Because I was just there and it was terrible. It was the last of the 3 stores in my vicinity that I hadn't visited yet.

So you know I have some some hauls there before, on the hunt for some healthy shit. Pickles, banana peppers, a hidden gem here and there (True North 4 packs, iykyk).

It is barely worth mentioning today. I did pick up some sf hard 🍬 candies & some little bags of Russell Stover sf chocolates (portion control). The only other notable item was a couple cans of G Fuel. And consumer alert- watch the caffeine content in those. Idk if they all are, but some are 300 MG caffeine.

What else did I get? A 6 pack of pretzels. Again, small bags = portion control. Especially for me with carbs. My activity level is pretty high tho so I am trying to give myself on watching the carbs but.... I am starting to think I have a gluten intolerance from some recent lab work.

I got some drink mixes too, but I am pretty sure they are cheaper at walmart. (Confirmed- $1.08 vs 1.25)

Sf Cherry jello 🍒 4 pack

Some coffee. Jim Beam Bourbon Vanilla small bag.

Green tea.

But I swear I looked for some things that people keep saying to run to the dollar tree for ...and didn't find shit. No fun lotions. No quantity of health food.

You also have to watch out because at $1.25 some items are cheaper at walmart, or in packages too small to be a deal. See the drink packs above and the tuna and salmon below.

I did see a pack of freeze dried strawberries and 1 other freezer dried fruit. But the price point on that should be ... a 6 pack like the pretzels or at least a 3 pack. It was a 1 serving bag.

This time, I knew to pass on the tuna & salmon, spices, and certain other staples. They did have nuts but I passed on those because I have some already and too many nuts can make a deficit become a surplus really fucking fast. And I have been plateaued for a bit now.

The plus side is that the store was well kept and maintained, and it was busy so you know product turn over was high.

I remarked on the store being busy and the cashier said, "Yeah, we are always busy the first of the month." That broke my heart a little because the food picks were pretty damn sparse and like I stated earlier- cheaper elsewhere. If people are on food benefits, those little cents add up and it might mean they don't have transportation to Walmart or a grocery store.

I picked up a couple cans of spaghetti sauce, turkey gravy, & white cheese sauce. I thought about getting some pepper stir fry- which I think is a good price still 🤔 but I think my freezers are full right now.

Alot of their other freezer stuff was .... just pre packaged garbage. I think the pepper stir fry was the only vegetable in sight.

Sometimes saving money means not buying stuff at dollar tree even though all those influencers are highlighting their products. If it isn't a good deal and won't save you time or actual money, it's ok to pass. It's OK to walk to the dollar tree. And be skeptical. Price check.

Also beware of items that have higher prices. I think the reason I used to like them is because I didn't have to think about the price so much just see and grab. But that is when everything was a $1, before the 25% price hike. 🤔 but now they have $3 items and $5 items. Be skeptical!

An example of a time/energy/diet saver is when you are in desperate need of lunch and you are in a sea of fast food places. You see a dollar tree and boom, you could be saved: A jar of pickles, a pack of tuna = $2.50. Spring for a beverage for 3.75 total... that is still beating out most fast food places for a meal... or some of them even a plain ass little burger. Idk about ya'll but without a veggie just a burger doesn't really satisfy me right now.

An "I'm craving something sweet" could be those freeze-dried fruit packs or sf jello, a beef jerky & a beverage. It's totally worth it if it stops you from going into a different store and being inundated by all the various high calorie prepacked garbage.

[corpsegirlmeat]

after getting a chance to play them all again during BIG big run, heres my tierlist for which stages i like best, more thoughts below the cut

starting at the bottom with undertow. high tide is ok, the super far right static spawns are annoying but not all that awful, mid tide is id say a little bit meh too but honestly not all that much, its really low tide that just fucking sinks it all the way to the bottom, you know why, things spawning from every direction, the harsh middle divider that makes it awkward to move around, it just SUCKS AND I HATE IT!!!!!!! low tide undertow is the worst salmon run map/tide in existence. at the end of every wave i get concerned i might be put back in the fucking pit

wahoo in d tier because its better than undertow but it still definitely has its problem. mid tide is fine, snatchers are almost always really good for getting those far eggs and its mostly enjoyable, but low and high tide are where my like for it falls. low tide everything spawns very far away and unless everyone is coordinated in keeping things lured at the beginning things get jammed and lots of eggs get dropped pretty far from basket. this didnt happen a lot in my play sessions (even through freelance), but when it did happen it was rough to make it up. and high tide leaves you with i think the least space of any high tide in the game. yes barnacle high tide is very small too, but wahoo's flat circle with 2 unpaintable bridges really leaves you with so little to work with, that its so easy to get overwhelmed. this goes especially so on grillers and glowflies, with no easy place to stand or lure them through, you really need a lot of coordination to make it through those waves smoothly and/or with high egg counts. it can be a Fun Challenge, but more often than not i find myself dreading it more than enjoying it

inkblot is id say a pretty alright map. i like the ample space youre given and the ramp you can use to kite the salmonids through. mid tide is ok, changing the ramp to stairs was really detrimental to it though. before it was much easier to bring bosses directly up, or even run eggs when they got piled up in the lower section, but changing it to stairs makes everything a lot more difficult. with good snatchers its not so bad, but more often than not theyre working against you and you have to be way more proactive about running eggs.

eeltail is really where i start to enjoy things. i like the large walls and open space you have during mid tide. there arent too many bad spawns besides the sneaky stinger that can show up behind basket or the drizzler spot behind the right wall. but i especially love being able to toss a bomb from down below up onto the grate for the flyfish ohko, its so incredibly satisfying. low tide im a bit indifferent about, but i think its enjoyable. high tide is really what gets it up here. i loooooooove high tide, its so easy and cozy. the easy flyfish ohko on the left ramp, the way all the salmonids easily funnel themselves through, the fact that snatchers are always good, the raise right side for better vantage spots, its very enjoyable to me

barnacle and umami are both extremely close and i think the overall best bigrun maps. barnacle mid tide is very chill to me, theres no real egregious static spot. lids are also so useful here, if theres a flyfish on the left side it can often get easily crushed by a lid, a lid usually parks on the ramp going up to the center on the right and just triggering it over and over to crush everything that walks through there is really satisfying. high tide barnacle is what high tide wahoo stays up late at night wishing it was. its tight and compact, but the layout makes it much more bearable than wahoo. and barnacles low tide is kinda just the same as eeltails high tide, its very easy and very cozy.

and finally umami. umami mid tide is like barnacle/wahoo high tide, but you actually have space to move around. the raised center gives you a decent vantage point and lets you escape the direct path of most bosses. fish sticks and stingers are never in that bad of spots, the only real bad spawn i think is the possible flyfish over grates. i really like umami mid tide. umami low tide is really interesting to me because i think its like the only map where the spawns come down from Above you? while not always the easiest i think it can be really fun. i think The Pit on the right side is fun and novel. Lastly Lastly umami high tide. do i really need to say anything about it? everything dies here so easily. everything steps out of the water into an instant meatgrinder and gets splatted so fast. the spawns are so close to basket that most weapons can reach bosses right away. its just the easiest, most Turn My Brain Off map out of all the big run ones. i dont know if ive ever lost a wave on it. its just fun and good and well designed and i like it :) thank you for coming to my squedtalk

[rinwellisathing]

It's A Thankless Job: Part 10

“Wyll, I'm worried about Karlach.” Jaina frowned across the table as they sat together at her favorite little sushi place by the docks. “This Gortash situation is really messing with her recovery and I'm kind of afraid that my whole situation has taken away a lot of valuable energy we could have been spending making sure she was alright. I don't want to be the reason she slips up...I mean, obviously, preferably she flourishes and has a chance to get better and doesn't slip up at all, you know what I mean.” Jaina's tail swished nervously behind her, she wore a sea green ribbon around it today with a small silver charm in the shape of an anchor sewn in the center. The breeze billowed her navy blue shawl around her like a cloak occasionally granting a small peek at her delicate white lace trimmed sundress. “I know, but he's running unopposed and even if my father and I were on speaking terms, he would never listen to me, not after the damage Mizora did...” Wyll glumly rested his face on his hands with a sigh.

Jaina's expression softened and she reached for his hand, running a soft fingertip across his calloused skin. “Hey, you did the right thing, okay? You saved thousands of lives. If your father can't see that, if he'd judge you for it, he doesn't deserve the joy of being near you.” She gave him a reassuring, fond smile. “I know that, and I still don't regret it, but that doesn't help Karlach right now.” Wyll sighed, gently taking Jaina's hand and squeezing it softly. Jaina looked deeply into Wyll's eyes, as though searching for something and then her own bright blue eyes widened and she grinned. “Hey...I have an idea! Maybe your father isn't the right Ravengard for the job....After all, he isn't exactly a paragon of understanding and he hasn't faced decisions as difficult as you have....Maybe the people need a man who's been there, who isn't afraid to make the tough choices, who they can trust to put them first.”

“Jaina...” Wyll began, looking away nervously. “No, I'm serious, Wyll, you would be good at it! And on top of that, if you ever needed advice, my father had political authority back on the island, he was raising me to do what he did, I can help!” Her heartbeat quickened. Somewhere in the back of Jaina's mind, a little voice told her this was selfish, asked her if this was really for Wyll and Karlach or just her chance to no longer feel like she was burdening them, to have some semblance of control, but she ignored it. She forced it down and told herself it was necessary to see that Gortash never got into that sort of position of power, it was just her and Wyll working together to help Karlach. “I....”Wyll bit his lip and thought for a moment, searching for the right words, the right choice. He felt anxiety welling in his chest, prodding at a piece of salmon on his plate for a moment as he considered. Jaina was right, Gortash couldn't be allowed to simply take power unchallenged, it wasn't just detrimental for Karlach, it would be bad for everyone. Wyll had heard some of Gortash's ideas since he'd caught Karlach obsessively checking up on the campaign, they sounded horrific to say the least. That, and there were certainly changes Wyll could think of that would benefit the people he loved and the city as a whole. True, he didn't want to leave his work, but this was a higher calling, a greater duty. He supposed he couldn't ignore it. “Alright. We can work out some details when we get home. I do have some thoughts....”

--- “So you're gonna run against Gortash for mayor? Fuck yeah! That's brilliant! You would be great at it!” Karlach grinned as she watched Wyll carefully writing in his beautiful handwriting on a piece of lined paper, occasionally raising the pen thoughtfully to his lips and considering before he continued. Jaina stood at the book case, her fingertips tracing the spines of several books, stopping briefly to select a few and then sending them over to Wyll on the couch with an elegant pale blue mage hand which smelled of fresh sea air and water lillies. The books neatly laid themselves out across the table, flipping open to the correct pages where the most relevant information could be found. “Hey, you could use Scratch and Nibbles as your mascots! People love cute animals!” Karlach looked over to the two, who were currently very deeply involved in pulling a rope toy back and forth with playful growls and shrieks. “I love it, the likeable everyman, adored by every living thing!” Jaina grinned. “Gortash doesn't have that kind of charm.” Wyll frowned a bit. “Doesn't that feel a bit manipulative? The focus should be on the issues. We have him there, Gortash wants to solve the city's problems with crackdowns and fearmongering, my ideas are community focused and start with offering resources. I think that's a clear point in our favor.” “Yeah, but the average person doesn't get that. They say stupid things like 'Oh, I don't want my hard earned gold going to some tiefling refugee!' while not really considering that those same resources will help them too. People are pretty selfish most of the time.” Jaina frowned, lowering her head.

“I don't think that's it, I think a lot of them just don't really stop to think about what's going on. They're tired, overworked, just trying to live their lives.” Wyll replied, leaning back on the couch, his expression pensive as he looked over all the books Jaina had pulled out, the clever wording, the painstaking research that went into them. “I think I'm going about this all wrong...people don't want empty promises or grand speeches, they want someone who speaks to them, not over them. I think I know what I need to say.” He stood up and walked towards the bedroom, opening his phone as he went. Jaina and Karlach watched him go, surprised at first, but neither one could help but smile a bit. His confidence was reassuring. They knew when he felt strongly about something he saw it through. “Need help putting those books away?” Karlach asked with a gentle grin. “Yeah, I'd like that....Oh I wish I hadn't pulled so many, if I'd known he wouldn't need them I wouldn't have messed up so many shelves.” Jaina bit her lip with an exaggerated, playful little whimper. “Aww, don't worry. Mama K always pays attention when you talk about your library stuff.” Karlach reassured her, her tail playfully entwining with Jaina's tail as she gave her a gentle, reassuring kiss and brushed past to replace two books on the shelf. “See? Alphabetical order by genre. I do listen.” She beamed. “Oh, you.” Jaina grinned. ---- “I know what it's like to worry about a loved one, how I'm going to get them help when they're sick, if we'll both still have jobs to return to when it takes so much time just to deal with health. I've seen good people like you feel defeated rather than relieved when you're pulled from a fire or a collapse because now instead of being able to recover from that trauma, you have to worry about whether or not you'll be able to rebuild your life or if some faceless company is going to decide you can't, and all based on reasons you have no way of knowing. That's why I'm running for mayor. I've seen all of these things first hand and I know that improving life in our city starts with making it easier to live.” Wyll concluded, reaching down subconsciously to rub at Scratch's ear for reassurance, the dog happily obliging with a hearty, slobbery lick to his hand.

Cameras flashed from the gathered crowd, scattered applause and sounds of appreciation could be heard, and Wyll grinned with pride. He'd been confident his message would resonate, but to see it for real was something else entirely. “You did well. Your points were salient, your message connected, and I think with my insight into the medical community and your experience dealing with it from the outside, we can certainly come up with some concrete proposals.” Kroger smiled as he approached from the audience. “You certainly have my vote and I'm sure my sisters' as well.” “Thanks, I think I have a good chance.” Wyll nodded. “Now that you're campaigning, how would you feel about attending an event? Octavia's fiance is a professor at Blackstaff Academy and he's hosting a party for some of the faculty. I think the academic community could be a good place to start rubbing elbows so to speak.” The Githyanki suggested. “I suppose it couldn't hurt.” Wyll replied with a soft smile. “Sure, why not?” “You have no idea how relieved I am that you agreed. I didn't want to go to another one of these things by myself.” Kroger grinned sheepishly, blushing a bit. “It's this weekend, I'll meet you at your place?” “Sounds great.” Wyll gently laid a hand on Kroger's thin shoulder. “Well, I look forward to it.” The Githyanki gently brushed his fingers against Wyll's hand, pausing a moment before the two parted. As Wyll smiled after Kroger, he noticed his phone buzzed with a notification. He pulled it from his pocket and opened it, scrolling through and clicking on the message he'd just received.

Message from: Sentry Ojeda 'Pretty speech, there, Ravengard...But can you back it up? I feel like this city's got a few more things to worry about right now.' Wyll's brow furrowed as he clicked on the name. Why was it familiar? Who was this guy? The link led to a profile page, an image of an attractive male tiefling around his own age, maybe just a little younger, greeted him. He was dressed in dark clothing and posing in a bedroom full of macabre sketches and paintings. There was nothing publicly available other than the profile image and a friends list, so Wyll proceeded to the friends list, looking for anyone he might know.

---- A few days later, Sentry was waiting in the back alley behind Sorcerous Sundries, his hood pulled low over his head, shadowing his face. He kept watching the street that led to the alleyway until finally, the figure he was waiting for approached. Nocturne also wore a fairly nondescript black hoodie, hiding her face in shadow. She approached slowly and silently, nodding to Sentry as the two tieflings began to assess their way in. “Do you think Rolan's home right now?” Nocturne asked. “I wouldn't want him to do anything stupid and get in the middle of this...” “Knowing him, he's out side hustling doing deliveries or something. He doesn't have on off switch, you know that.” Sentry replied with a shrug. “Hey, there we go. That drain pipe should get us close enough to the fire escape.” He pointed up and without waiting for Nocturne's reply, he jumped up onto the nearby dumpster and then to the drain pipe, sharp nails digging in for support as he began to shimmy up before leaping to the fire escape, pulling himself up with a bit of effort. “You know, not all of use went through your crazy paladin cross fit whatever training.” Nocturne rolled her eyes, but with a bit more effort, managed to follow Sentry, smiling gratefully when he gently helped her up onto the fire escape. The two tieflings scurried up the rest of the way, approaching the window to the apartment above the store. Each pressed to one side of the window, peeking towards it and listening in.

“Wrong again, how many times must I teach you this, boy!?” A voice neither of them recognized was shouting, followed by several percussive thuds. “I...I'm sorry, sir, I'll do better next time...I...” Neither of them had ever heard Rolan sound so nervous, so apologetic. “Fuck...we need to think of a plan...”Nocturne began, turning her head and wincing when she saw that Sentry was already kicking in the window. “Or....you can just steamroll, that works too..” The scene before them was tense, a large library with a hardwood floor, shelves of books, and cases of arcane trinkets and treasures all around. A tall, gangly red haired human stood in the center of the room dressed in red and silver. Rolan was sprawled a few feet away from him, bruised, burnt, and bleeding, staring in numb shock at his friends now standing in front of the broken window. “Hey asshole, that's our nerd! Back off him.” Sentry snapped.

Rolan cursed under his breath and it was hard to tell whether he looked away in embarrassment from his friends of from his employer. Neither Sentry nor Nocturne backed down though, both of them hurrying to put themselves between their friend and the human. Nocturne turned towards Rolan and knelt beside him. “Hey, so this is gonna be a little chilly at first, but it'll fix you up.” She assured him, laying her hands gently on either side of his face and whispering a few words. There was an icy, stinging prickle, after all, Loviatar's blessings had their own unique note to them, and the bruises began to face, the lacerations stitching themselves back together, and the burns cooling and fading. Rolan looked away and scoffed, but there was a gratefulness in his eyes underneath the annoyance. “Wow, I'd tell you to pick on someone your own size, but that might exclude me from beating the shit out of you, you absolute pencil neck twat.” Sentry sneered at Lorroakan. “I'm supposed to be frightened of a pair of obviously criminal tieflings breaking and entering? The Fist will have you locked up and beaten the moment they arrive.” The human scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah that's true...but what can I do to you in the mean time?” Sentry shot back, pacing back and forth, eyes never leaving the wizard. He noticed Lorroakan's eyes turning towards Nocturne and he snapped to attention, locking eyes with him as authority filled his voice, eyes glowing brightly. “Hey, eyes on me, fucker! I'm your problem right now.” Lorroakan's head snapped back towards Sentry, a look of surprise crossing his face at being cast on before he could notice it. His eyes narrowed and he snapped his fingers. “Fine. If you can't wait for The Fist, I'll simply dispatch you myself.”

From each corner of the room, an elemental spawned. From a collection of gems and stones, an elemental of solid rock, glinting in places with crystals. From a fan in the corner, a blustering air elemental, blowing papers about as it moved. From a tea pot on a side table, a water elemental, hissing and bubbling. Finally, from the fire place, a crackling fire elemental. “Well, shit...” Sentry winced. “I might actually need some help over here.” He glanced anxiously at his friends. “This is exactly why I told you everything was fine, I wanted you to stay out of it because you two always make something implode!” Rolan snapped. “Well excuse us for not wanting to see our friend abused by some hack who's half the spellcaster he is to begin with!” Nocturne shot back. “I...wait...you really think I'm more talented than Lorroakan?” Rolan paused a moment, a look of genuine surprise on his face as he looked at Nocturne as though searching for some sign she was lying. “Of course I do! We both do! You're the smartest guy we know...and anyway, now's the chance to prove my point.” Nocturne gently placed a hand on Rolan's shoulder and nodded towards their current predicament. “Yeah, okay, I think so too. Rolan's great, super powerful and stuff, now can you both please help me out here?” Sentry just barely deflected a roaring fireball as he spun around, his tail glowing with bright light as it cracked Lorroakan across the chest and threw him a few feet across the room. “In retrospect I should have brought a weapon...” Sentry wanted to look back to make sure his friends were faring alright, but he couldn't take his focus off his opponent, one little slip up and the wizard's focus would be free to move from him to anything else, including his companions. It was difficult to get in close to throw a punch with someone who could attack from range, and his tail only made up for distance so much. He tried to look for an environmental advantage, Gary had always taught him, if you can't fight well, fight dirty. There was the window they came in through, enough force could throw Lorroakan out and beyond the fire escape, and that was a fall he wasn't likely to survive. There was also the potentially of driving him into the fireplace somehow, but that ran the risk of causing the whole shop to go up and that would draw attention.

“Shit!” Sentry turned his head at Nocturne's exclamation and the sound of a crash and shatter. The tea pot had collapsed to the floor, breaking to pieces and when it did, the water elemental shuddered and vanished. Nocturne grinned. “Hey, that's good to know!” She eyed the fireplace and made a swift gesture, murmuring the words to a spell and water rained down, dousing the fire as the elemental disappeared as well. “He needed anchors to conjure those simple elementals?” Rolan scoffed, a look of absolute disgust and betrayal crossing his face. “And I really believed I was lucky to study under you!” He spat, turning towards the gems and aiming a spell, reducing them to dust in a single blow. Sentry was glad his friend seemed like himself again, but the happiness was short lived as a spell hit his chest, causing him to double over in pain, vomiting heavily. He coughed and sputtered, prone when another blow came, six bolts of arcane energy sending him skidding across the floor. “Damn....” He coughed, slowly scrambling to his feet as Nocturne finished smashing the fan and rushed over to his side. Lorroakan glared at Sentry, advancing towards him. “You've violated my sanctum, destroyed my things, and worst of all, wasted my valuable time. When I'm through with the two of you, they won't be able to identify your---” His words were cut off as he passed in front of the window and from the corner Rolan had been positioned in, a rolling wave of energy rumbled across the floor, sending the human flying backwards, his body colliding with the sturdy brick wall of the building across the street and then crashing to the ground, his spine snapped across metal pipe. The three tieflings rushed to the window to look out. Sentry whistled, impressed. Nocturne nodded her head. “Practically an art piece, I'd say.” Rolan paled and looked like he might be sick. “I....just killed someone.” “I mean, technically it was self defense?” Nocturne offered with a shrug. “I'm not saying he didn't deserve it! But this could be the end of my career, everything I've worked for. All the sleepless nights studying, everything he did to me...If I go to jail for this, it would all be fore nothing...” Rolan tensed, his body shaking a bit. Sentry gently placed a hand on Rolan's shoulder. “I have an idea. You go downstairs and pretend you were stocking the shop or something, Nocturne can clean up up here...I'll take care of everything.” He assured him with a gentle squeeze.

Rolan paused, studying Sentry's face. A million thoughts and worries ran through his head at once. This was Sentry, there was every chance he was going to cock it up somehow. Sentry who had never passed a class on his own in his life, Sentry who was the text book definition of failing upwards. But then again, he was a paladin, he knew what The Fist would be looking for. Besides, maybe he was being too harsh, Sentry and Nocturne had come to help him, after all, and they had been his friends for such a long time. “Alright...I trust you.” Sentry smiled and stood up, climbing out the window and down the fire escape. When he was sure Rolan had walked away and was headed back down to the shop, he looked around the alleyway, checking for any prying eyes. When he was satisfied, he dipped his fingers into Lorroakan's blood and began to draw a circle of twisting blood droplets around him. In the center, beneath where the body lay, a blood red skull. “Hey, Fel. I need your help.” He hissed. Rising up from the blood, his butler brushed himself off and shook out his hat before replacing it neatly atop his head. “My dear master, it is a genuine thrill to see you back to working on your still lifes...Ah...what can your humble butler do to assist?” “I need some parts harvested and then I need it to look like he was killed down here, preferably with Bhaalist weapons.” Sentry explained. “The way I see it, this happy little accident can kill two birds with one stone.” “Ah, but sadly with only one corpse to show for it.” Fel clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No matter. I know your dreadfulness will certainly find more prey before the day is out.” He patted Sentry's knee like an indulgent grandparent and set to work.

[alterrune]

ALTERNARUNE: INTERMISSION 1

(We exit from the boss kettle. Alter is holding Shiver up by her shawl, with her kicking and screaming like a toddler.)

LET GO OF ME YOU LITTLE BRATS! I WILL GET MASTER MEGA TO CHEW YOU TO BITS!

Yo, Dystopiac! This one's bitey. Want her?

Why yes, I would. Shiver, come here, you dumbass.

WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM, DYSTOPIAC? I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO GET THOSE TWO FOR RUINING OUR GLORIOUS FUTURE!!!

Shiver, there's something I'd like you to realize:

I.

Moved.

The.

Fuck.

On.

(Shiver suddenly stops kicking and shouting. She looks at Dystopiac, who is giving her an ice-cold glare.)

Wow...maybe YOU'RE the cold-blooded one, Dystopiac...but I get it. You're absolutely right, we need to move on. And while the three of us are still not rejoining the New Squidbeak Splatoon, I see that circumstances have changed and that we will have to work together if we want Splatsville to survive.

Yeah. We will.

(All of us turn around to see that the Advisor just spoke actual words.)

Advisor Three...?! You...I thought you...

..."couldn't talk", Agent 8? No, I very much can. I just chose not to. But I'm done staying silent. Allow me to give you all some orders.

We have one of those pieces again. But we still need two more. The other boss kettles contain them. Like we've been doing prevoisly, the CSB along with the Burnway siblings will clear the areas and get to the boss kettles.

The rest of us will stay on the outside and do some recon around the areas to make sure Mr. Grizz doesn't do anything stupid.

Except for PMD!Kyle and Blastie. You two stay at the Squid Sisters Camp. You'll be our central comm link. Do you understand?

"Sir yes sir, Advisor!"

"We'll stay here and watch over everyone."

Good. Now then, let's get to...

(The PA suddenly crackles to life again. This time, another voice seems to be broadcasted from the speakers.)

"Dagnabbit, lemme go, you big bear! I already gave you my brainpower earlier! What more do you want from me?!"

"GRAMPS!"

"Callie? Marie? Oh, thank heavens, you two are safe! Considering I also got a signal from Off the Hook earlier, I'm glad to see everyone's safe and accounted for."

"Ah, it seems you've got your first piece of the puzzle. We at Grizzco Industries value hard work, but you are putting it in the wrong place."

BULLSHIT! Our work is NOT for you to exploit, you big teddy bear! I sprained a tentacle shredding that fuzzy buildup of yours earlier, Grizz, and I'll gladly do it again!

"Oh...finally talking, are we, Advisor? We train our employees to expect the unexpected during Salmon Runs, but this was more unexpected than even I anticipated. Regardless, it seems that you are all still on the premises, despite our past warnings. We will now use lethal force. Captain Cuttlefish, you are now fired."

(A loud BANG from a gunshot rings out through the PA system. From the sound of the gunfire, it seems like Captain Cuttlefish got shot with 10 high-calibre sniper rifles at once. Nobody could survive that...)

"Well THAT wasn't very nice!"

(...nobody human, at least.)

"WHAT THE---?! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?!"

"I'm not just the captain of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, y'know. I was also the captain of the original Squidbeak Splatoon. Do you really think I haven't been shot like that before?"

"(sigh...) We at Grizzco would like to formally apologize for that blunder. However, rest assured, we will eventually make sure to permanently fix this."

Go to hell, Grizz.

"We encourage you to go there first, Advisor. Have a nice day."

(The PA system shuts off.)

Okay, I think we all need a break from all that.

(We all nod in agreement. The Captain is in danger, and we have to save him. And from the look on the Advisor's face, this isn't the first time this has happened to him.)

(I get the feeling that now, our journey truly begins.)

SHIVER HOHOJIRO IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR ASKS

[kieuecaprie]

now that big big run is over and i've tried out the new stringer and splatana, i now have no real motivation to continue playing splatoon 3.

was it fun at least? big big run? yeah, of course, the grizzco roller FUCKS. the game itself? well... not particularly.

on the pve side of things, the game is good, maybe even pretty damn great. salmon run is so much better than it has ever been, the story mode is ballin', and while side order is not my favorite, it's had its moments even though it lost its luster very quickly.

what i didn't like was that nintendo clearly didn't want you to level your catalog via salmon run only, its points per minute is WORSE than losing a turf war. why?

oh god, speaking of catalogue... it's the one of the worst implementations for a battle pass i've seen. sure, it's free, but the point grind is so painfully slow that i'm left wondering if nintendo really wanted to throw in the funny mtx but didn't. salmon run is fun but the points gained from there is slow. ranked mode has a good point per minute... if you win, good luck with that. turf war is consistent but also painful and doesn't feel very fun in the current meta.

which now brings me to pvp, somehow it's gotten worse, in my eyes. maps are not great, weapons tend towards special spam (splatoon 2 all over again...) or being a charger, which are much more oppressive in 3 due to the map design favoring them, despite nintendo's, uh, efforts.

i can't really think of many moments where i've actually had fun with splatoon 3's pvp besides feeling ambivalent most of the time and outright gamer raged the rest.

and what about the other additions?

lockers? pretty cool for the first few hours then kind of gets left to gather dust.

cards? pretty neat, not my thing, got no complaints about it.

new lobbies? cool glorified skins for the lobby area.

side order? it's... fine. not the best and kinda disappointing but still pretty decent, i think i've already talked about it before.

big run? fun especially after 6.0, you do not want to know what it was like before then.

but as a whole? splatoon 3 just feels like a mixed bag for me and it isn't giving me much hope for splatoon 4.

i'd love for them to prove me wrong though.

[realmariesplatoon]

VALID ARGUMENT!!!

i get that, like every weapon, it certainly has a lot of upsides. the fact it can pierce salmonids’ shields is obviously a MAJOR plus, as well as that it can plow through hordes of chum and cohocks. like to everyone who immediately jumps to that to defend it i KNOWWWWWWW but problems arise w/ the ink consumption and fire rate bc those coupled together make for an incredibly inconvenient weapon when you’re being swarmed. and like. my ass is getting swarmed by the second wave every shift.

“well you can take out flyfishes without having to use bombs and you can oneshot scrappers and steelheads skill issue and and and” that’s awesome but i am being MAULED RIGHT NOW and i’m out of ink and escape routes. idk maybe it’s my fault bc i’m a frontliner?? but it’s not like you can just rely on its range and stay perched on a column for the whole wave. and again, moving around becomes really difficult when you’re being swarmed and your fire rate is garbage and you’ve got 4(?) shots before you have to refill and tbh your teammates are seldom very interested in teamwork (another reason i despise being so defenseless in salmon run). it especially sucks when TWO of you are loaded with sloshers which had happened a lot as well for me lol.

also wanna take the time to mention. what are yall on about with the splatana, that thing fucks. so does the stringer but admittedly i like it less. it’s good for reclaiming turf which i think people don’t realize is actually pretty important in salmon run?? and the splatana has a pretty short range (although most grizzco weapons do) which can be annoying but much like with the blaster, you can just plow through shit close-range rlly easily. splatana’s def not my favorite but i can work with it.

if i get the slosher again istg i’m gonna end up on the splatcast

[froggy-bae]

“Remembering what was.”

Suguro geto x Y/N Gojo ft: Gojo Saturo

!manga spoilers!

Word count: 786

Fic type: angst

“He’s really gone this time, isn’t he?” I ask adjusting my suit jacket. Satoru rest his hand on my lower back, pulling me closer to him under the umbrella. “Yeah… he is.”

I rest my head on his shoulder gripping he flowers in my hand tighter, trying to stop the tears from streaming down my face. Satoru gently rubs my back.

I feel a hot liquid on his shoulder where my face was, thats when I realized. I was crying. I hadn’t cried over anyone sense Suguro left, but I suppose I was crying over the same person, even if he was no longer my Suguro.

“Hey, remember when me you, Shoko and Suguro pranked principal.” I chuckle dryly. “Witch time?” “The time you three bitches blamed it on me!” He exclaims laughing. “Again, witch time Satoru?” I retort back poking u at my brother.

“The time we all got detention for messing with his cursed corpses.” I nod chuckling to myself. “I know what your talking about now, the good times…” I say walking over to Suguro’s grave, I knew he wasnt there, but I also didn’t know what Satoru did with his body.

The cold rain trickles onto me getting my suit and hair wet. I crotch down gripping the lily’s so tight my nuckles turn white. I hang my head low the hot globes of tears streaming down my face, now I was almost glad it was raining, Satoru wouldn’t see me cry.

I gently place the bouquet of lily’s on the grave in-front of the tomb stone. I keep my head down for a few more second trying to control my breathing and stop crying, while im still on the ground I cant help but ask. “Where’s… where’s h-his body Satoru?”

I needed to know, the only people that knew where principal Yaga and Satoru. But I need to know where the love of my life’s cold lifeless body is being kept.

“He’s beings kept with the rest of the curse objects, to stop him from becoming a cures…” I nod standing up straight, my eyes are puffy I know they are, but Satoru doesn’t mention it. And im glad he doesn’t I wold probably start crying again if he did.

“Im gonna head home.” I rest me hand on his shoulder stopping beside him. I stand up on my tippie toes kissing his cheek. He rest his hand on top of mine.

“I love you.” He says. “Love you too.” He lets go of my hand and I start walking back to the dorms .

Around fifteen minuets later I get back to the dorms. The first years were in the common room a. “Salmon!” Inumaki yells. “Mx Y/N.” Panda yells. I nod my head not trusting my voice.

I walk past all of them to the teachers area of the dorms. I open the door to my room. I take off my suit jacket hanging it upon the back of my door, before I rest my head on the back of my door. A chocked sob leaves my throats. I wipe my eyes with my dress jacket sleeve .

I walk over to my closet grabbing the box out of the bottom of it. I sit down on the bed opening the box.

I pull out my old camera and tapes. As I power up the camera I grab one of the tapes, titled: “January, 17, 2008.” I put the tape int my camera, before. I Play the tape.

“What the fuck are y’all doing?” I ask, tilting my head to the right. “Shhh!” Suguro grabs the hem of my shirts, pulling me down. “Gah, fuck!”I whisper yell. “I nearly dropped my camera assfuck!” “Sorry baby.” Suguro say pointing forward above the bushes. “Record this!” I nod my head while I look at him confused. I tilt my camera up Utahime was sitting at a table drinking a drink while reading a book. “Why am I recording Utahime-San?” I ask. “This is why!” Satoru runs up behind Utahime hitting the back o her head. Utahime spills her drink her shirt before she starts yelling and chasing Satoru around. Me and Suguro cant help but laugh as we watch Satoru run away from Utahime.

My tears hit the camera watching the tape. I miss him so much, it didn’t hurt this much watching the tapes when he left, but now, god now I could barely handle it. “What went wrong!” I yell to myself.

What the fuck happened, we were all happy, if it wasn’t for Toji Fushigiro id still have the love of my life. I wish I would have been the one to kill him, not Satoru.

A/N: I might write a part with just Y/N’s recordings.