#i still have almost 4 hours but christ alive

[just-spacetrash]

💻

[subcultureblues]

Don't You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 4

———

Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4

———

“I don’t know Dustybuns…. I know you mean well but - “

“But? I mean well, but what?”

“But sometimes, well sometimes you get these ideas in your head. And really once you think you’re right, there’s just no convincing you otherwise. I just wonder if maybe - you don’t have a full picture of what’s going on with those two.”

“Seriously? They’re my friends, Suzie. I think I understand them just fine. I mean it’s not thermal dynamics. And even that, I’ve got an understanding of the basic fundamentals!”

———

When Dustin got home that night he blew through his homework within the hour. He’s a sophomore - advanced placements even! Still, the work they’re giving out this year is child’s play.

He grazed on snacks until he was slightly less bored. Read the X-Men issue that came out this week - guess Jean Grey alive again. Wonder how long that’ll last…

He tried calling the Wheeler house to see what Mike was up to but he was out, over at Will’s apparently. He tried Lucas after that but he couldn’t really talk since he’d had to put Max on hold just to pick up.

Dustin had to kill a few more hours but eventually he was able to get on the radio with Suzie. Hearing her voice - it’s like seeing the clouds part and the sun light up the sky. Never really gets old.

“That! That tramp!” She said, when Dustin told her about the Flower Situation.

“Right!?” Dustin huffed.

He told Suzie he planned to give Steve a serious talking to, even though Robin had kinda, sorta expressly asked against it. To Dustin’s shock, however, Suzie took Robin’s side.

“I don’t know Dustybuns…. I know you mean well but - “

“But? I mean well, but what?”

“But sometimes, well sometimes you get these ideas in your head. And really once you think you’re right, there’s just no convincing you otherwise. I just wonder if maybe - you don’t have a full picture of what’s going on with those two.”

“Seriously? They’re my friends, Suzie. I think I understand them just fine. I mean it’s not thermal dynamics. And even that, I’ve got an understanding of the basic fundamentals!”

“Oh, Dusty…. Oop. I hear footsteps downstairs.” She whispered. “I think they’re doing a bed check. I gotta go.”

“Bye Suzie. I love you.”

“Love you too.” He could hear her smiling through the crackling radio transmission. Even from this many miles away he couldn’t help but smile back. Suzie paused. “And Dusty, just - be careful. Promise?”

Her line cut out. Dustin switched off the ham radio and frowned. Usually Suzie was so smart. Literally the smartest person he knows. How is it possible she couldn’t see that his friends were in dire need of help?

No way was he gonna abandon them to make a mess of things by themselves.

Though. Maybe there was something he was missing. Some unknown element.

Earlier today… Eddie seemed to know more than he was letting on. Dustin frowned harder.

He creeped downstairs to the landline. Wayne’s at work and Eddie’s a nightwalker so he didn’t feel bad about calling at almost 9pm. He didn’t even feel bad about calling four separate times.

He shook his head when he was sent to voicemail again. He put the phone back in the receiver.

Dustin huffed.

Only then he remembered - the walkie talkie. It had ended up in Eddie’s trailer after the whole Vecna fiasco… Dustin never did get it back. In fact, he’d totally forgotten about it. And if Dustin forgot about it, Eddie definitely had too.

“Eddie. It’s Dustin. Come in, Eddie. Over.”

It took a few tries but eventually he heard a crackly - “sus Christ, how does this thing work, again?”

“Eddie!”

“Dustin?” Eddie said, deadly serious. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you home right now, over?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Dustin waited.

“Yes, I’m home. Over.”

“Then why the hell aren’t you picking up the damn phone?” Dustin said. “Over.”

“I uh - must be off the line or something.”

“Whatever, look I just got a few questions about - “

“Dustin! Is the world ending right now this exact second or what?”

“No but - “

“Jesus…”. Eddie sighed in relief. Then he muttered, “The last thing I need right now is The Monster-pocalypse Part 2 : Electric Boogaloo.”

“We are well past that by now. Gotta be on the fourth or fifth straight to TV sequel at least.”

“Well whatever it is, it can wait. I gotta a lot of - I got enough shit going on right now.”

“You know, you’ve been pulling that card a lot recently.”

“Tell me about it.” To Eddie’s credit, he did sound stressed out. “Anyway - if this is about D&D, sessions canceled tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?” Immediately switching course, Dustin’s thoughts of Steve vanished like smoke.

“Yeah, sorry. Jeff was gonna tell you guys tomorrow at school. There’s this bar in town, their Friday gig canceled on them. Unlucky for them, our merry band of metalheads were the only ones they could find to fill the time slot on short notice.”

“What? Eddie that’s awesome!”

“Yeah, fucking big place too. Me and the boys are there a lot when we’re in the area - The Squeaky Wheel down in Indie. Probably gonna be the biggest crowd we’ve ever played for.”

“Well, I’m definitely coming then.”

“You’re definitely not. We need to be there early. Leaving for town 2pm, sharp.”

“Jeff won’t still be in school?”

“Not if he cuts last period he won’t.”

“Well, what if I - “

“Are you kidding?” Steve’ll fucking kill me.”

“But I still haven’t seen you guys perform for real yet!”

“Maybe next time, little man. Look I gotta go, I’ve been trying to actually get some fucking sleep and having the phone going off all night really isn’t helping.”

“I thought you said it was off the line?”

“Huh? Right, yeah.”

“Nevermind that. You nervous?”

“So fucking nervous I feel like I’m gonna puke or something. Just like, go full exorcist. All over the stage.”

“Ok yeah, don’t do that.” Dustin suggested.

“Hah. Yeah.” Eddie chuckled.

“Come on, you guys are amazing! You’re gonna be great!”

“No, you’re right. It’s gonna be good.” Eddie said, clearly trying to psyche himself up.

“Well, I guess good luck. Over and out.”

“Break a leg you mean. Over and out.”

Dustin sat there fiddling with his walkie for a long couple minutes. There was something kicking around in his brain. A plan, formulating. Even Dustin himself was shocked by its elegant efficiency.

Get to see Corroded Coffin perform? Check. Bring a mob of Eddie’s friends out to support him? Check. Finally get a chance to meet this super secret girlfriend (because who would miss their boyfriend’s bands biggest show yet?) Check! And he can get Robin and Steve on a fun night out together and hopefully smooth over the ‘flower incident’? Check check check!

He tuned his walkie to the open line the party was synced into.

“Everybody, come in. It’s Dustin. We got a code blue which means all hands on deck. We’re going on a field trip…”

Dustin had spent the rest of Thursday night and Friday morning making sure everything was in perfect order.

He didn’t call until Friday, after he got confirmation from Max, the last person he was waiting on.

Only then did he call Steve.

“Corroded Coffin has a show tonight.” He said as soon as Steve picked up.

It was lunch hour and him, Mike, and Will were outside the school building standing around the pay phone. Lucas and Max were on a lunch table near by arm wrestling - those weirdo’s version of PDA.

“Hello to you too.” Steve said, vaguely amused.

“Hello. Corroded Coffin has a show tonight and we’re going.” Mike gave him a thumbs up and Will, an encouraging smile.

“Oh yeah?”

“And before you ask, yes we’ve gotten permission from our parents, yes we have a curfew but - we don’t have to be home till midnight, the bar is 16 and up, I called, itsallthewayinindianapolis but wait ok, before you say no - “

“What time are we leaving?” Steve said.

“I - really? That easy?” He glanced at Will and Mike who blinked at him with hesitant excitement.

“No. This… this is actually perfect.”

“Come on man. I had a whole - thing, prepared. I practiced for this. Flashcards! I made flashcards.”

“What time are we leaving?”

Dustin sighed.

“Six o’clock. If we leave Hawkins by then, we can get there twenty minutes before their show starts. Plenty of time to find parking and get into the venue. Were you wondering how everyone’s gonna fit in your car?”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve humored him.

Dustin flipped to the corresponding flash card. “They don’t have to.” He read verbatim. “I’ve already taken the time to ensure Jonathan could accompany us as well - also Joyce wouldn’t let Will come if he didn’t. Jonathan and Nancy are driving Will and Mike. You just have to grab me, Lucas, and Max. Leaving one seat open for you to bring a plus one.”

“Robin.” Steve said, impressed. “Very thorough.”

“I’ll see you at my house at 5:30 on the dot. We need to be on the road by 6. And Steve? Please try not to dress like a dork.”

Steve laughed.

“Funny how I could say the exact same thing.”

“Also don’t tell Eddie.” Dustin ordered. “It’s a surprise.”

“Dustin, you’re a genius...” Dustin could hear him grinning through the phone.

“I know, I meticulously organized everything down to the last detail.”

“Yeah, uh huh.” Steve said, distractedly. “Shit, ok, I gotta go - and shower pretty much right now if I want enough time to airdry my hair…“

“Well. That was easy.” He said, hanging up the phone rather anticlimatically.

“But he said yes?”

“Oh, we’re going!” Dustin confirmed.

———

Just a few hours later Steve’s Beemer sat on the street out front of Dustin’s house.

Dustin emerged from the house at 5:36 in a huff. He got a few steps before he remembered his mom was out and backtracked to lock up behind him.

HONK.

Dustin jumped, almost dropping his keys.

“I’m coming!” Dustin shouted over his shoulder. When he turned Steve was grinning at him, snickering to himself. He peered over his douche-glasses and gave Dustin a goofy little wave.

Dustin rolled his eyes and tugged at the car’s door handle. It didn’t budge. Steve hit the button for the passenger side window and Dustin was forced to wait for it to slowly roll down.

“Taxi to Indianapolis for a Mr. Henderson. Got the right address?”

“Open the door, Steve.”

“Sorry, I’m gonna need you to confirm the passphrase. Company policy.” He shrugged.

“Is it, we’re already running late so open the goddamn door?”

Steve rolled his eyes but unlocked the door so Dustin could finally get in already.

“And whose fault is that?” Steve asked as he started them down the road. Dustin huffed. He was still mad at Steve.

“Yours. You said you’d have Robin already - so now we’re behind schedule.”

“It was please by the way.” Steve glanced his way grinning as he turned on the radio. “Wanted to pick something you’d never in a million years guess.”

“Har har.” Dustin said, humorlessly as he buckled in. He eyed Steve. “You’re in a good mood.”

“I am.” Steve said, checking his hair in his review mirror and flashing himself a grin.

Dustin did a double take when he noticed - Steve was wearing Eddie’s vest. It definitely looked like it had been dragged through the Upside Down. But he had to admit the battle worn look suited it. To Dustin’s surprise, it kind of suited Steve too. He had a white T-shirt underneath, blue jeans, and red converse sneakers. His hair was tall and meticulously coiffed.

Dustin spent quite a while on his own hair tonight, though it wasn’t nearly as expertly styled. Never gonna beat the master at their own game right?

Dustin was glad Steve made an effort to blend at least. The rest of the party had too. Dustin was wearing a black tshirt with ‘Corroded Coffin’ painted in angular white lettering across the front. Dustin had made sure they all brought shirts to school today for Will to paint. He’s glad he put Will in charge of that because they actually came out pretty awesome.

“What’s up man?” Steve asked, taking off his sunglasses when he noticed Dustin’s sour face.

“How’s Robin?” Dustin asked pointedly.

“Uh, she’s fine, thanks.” Dustin glared at him, unimpressed.

“Uh huh.” He said shortly. There was a moment of silence before Steve spoke again.

“So uh, how’s Eddie?”

“Why do you care?” Dustin said.

“I don’t.” Steve shrugged. “Just makin’ conversation.” He said. There was another pause. Steve was drumming along to the radio on the steering wheel. “You guys have been hanging out a lot this week.”

How would Steve even know that?

“What? Did Robin tell you after we came by the store?” Steve looked over at him, as if confused by his antagonist tone.

“Uh, nope. I- “

“She knows about the flowers, Steve.” Dustin said. Steve squinted side long at him, opening his mouth and closing it again.

“Ok?” He said. Waiting for Dustin to continue. Dustin waited until they rolled to a stop at a stop sign.

“What the hell Steve!” Dustin said, smacking him in the arm.

“Hey! You what the hell.” Steve said, holding a palm up to shield himself from further abuse.

“I can’t believe you! I asked her how she liked the flowers you got her and she had no idea what I was talking about!”

“What? Ok, Jesus Christ. Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, we aren’t dating. It’s - it’s not like that, alright. We’re just - Robin’s my best friend.”

“Yeah well have you told her that? She seemed really hurt Steve.” Dustin scolded him.

“Man, I don’t know what you thinks going on but it’s not. I promise.”

“Just, talk to her ok?”

“What, suddenly your the love guru?” Steve huffed.

“Yes!” Dustin cried. “You have a really good thing, Steve. Don’t fuck this up. Have you guys even had an actual conversation about this shit? Like talked about what you guys are in plain words even once.”

Steve sighed, beleaguered. Steve stopped at a red light, fully turning to face Dustin. As if he thought looking him in the eye would better get his point across. Or more likely, finally get Dustin to shut up.

“I’m not having this conversation. You’re a kid, alright. You just don’t get it. You don’t always need to - spell everything out. We’re on the same page, trust me.”

“I don’t know Steve. That sounds like a really easy way for someone to get hurt.”

“I - “ Steve started but then he stopped himself. He paused for a moment, staring into space. The light turned green.

“Steve.” Dustin said, and Steve’s head jerked back up. “The light.”

“Yeah. Right.” He turned onto Lucas’ street.

“So you’ll talk to her?”

“God, is there a reason you have to be so nosey. Me and Robin have nothing to talk about. We are definitely on the same page.”

“Definitely?”

“Definitley.” He assured Dustin. Dustin continued to glare at him.

“Look, I’ll - “ Steve sighed, passing a hand through is hair before quickly checking it’s structural integrity in the mirror. “I’ll think about what you said ok?”

“You better.” Dustin huffed, trying to keep up his stone cold front at least a few seconds longer. “I don’t want to see you fuck this up. You seem, I dunno - happy? Or - whatever.”

Steve hummed, looking out at the road with a contemplative smile.

They stopped at Lucas’ house to grab him and Max, and then headed to Family Video.

“Dude, are you wearing Eddie’s vest?” Lucas said as he and Max climbed into the back seat. Lucas was wearing a matching Corroded Coffin shirt. Max was not. She’s too cool to participate in things.

“You know, just once you could say something like, hey Steve, thanks for the ride. Maybe? Just to keep things interesting.”

“Yeah did you really never give that back?” Max said, ignoring him.

“No, Eddie, he uh, told me to hold onto it.” Steve said, smiling and adjusting the collar in the mirror.

Max scoffed a little laugh, but kept her eyes out the window.

Next they went to pick Robin up from her late shift.

It took a few honks before Robin emerged from the building, calling “Thanks, Todd!” over her shoulder.

She crossed the parking lot, struggling to get into her denim jacket.

“Sorry it took so long Steve, I had to change in the bathroom and let me tell you, that little - “ she managed to crawl into her jacket, then halted when she looked up and saw Dustin in the front.

“You didn’t pick me up first.” She said, standing outside the passenger side door.

Steve shrugged half heartedly apologetic.

“Out of my seat, Gremlin’s 2.” She opened the door and jerked her head in a motion that made it clear she expected Dustin to clear out.

“Yeesh. Not even the original?” He said, reluctantly acquiescing and going to jam in with the others in the back.

Robin got into the car stared at Steve intently.

“You didn’t pick me up first.” She repeated. “I told you to come get me first.”

“I - yeah. The kids were closer. Didn’t want to waste time backtracking in case there’s traffic.”

“Pft. He was just running late.” Dustin said.

“I bet it was because he spent like, 2 hours doing his hair.” Max snorted.

“Alright, that’s enough - from the peanut gallery. Sorry, Robbie.” Robin frownedz. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.”

“Why, what’s up?” Steve said, pulling out of the parking lot so they could finally get on the rode. It was already 6:07! The whole night was turning out to be a disaster.

“Nothing. Nothing. Just was hoping to chat.”

“I literally just called you.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Just - Nevermind.” She grimaced.

Dustin caught her eye in the rearview mirror and winked.

Her face paled in a mask of frustration and horror. A look that said, what did you do now, if Dustin’s ever seen one.

“Jesus Christ.” She murmured quietly.

“Hmm?” Steve titled his head towards Robin.

“Nothing!”

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[holylulusworld]

Between a rock and a hard place (5)

Summary: You are in big trouble and in need of money. Two wolves are more than willing to help you. For a price…

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Mobster!August Walker

Warnings: angst, language, power imbalance, debts, scared reader, groping, gaslighting, darkfic, both brothers are not nice guys, mafia au, a tiny hint of fluff/aftercare, possessive Walter, jealousy?, cockwarming

Between a rock and a hard place (4)

Between a rock and a hard place masterlist

Shutting the world around you off, especially the two men using you to their liking, you fell asleep on the couch at the club.

You slept for almost two hours before Walter finally decided it was time to go home. He covered your body with his large shirt and picked you up in bridal style.

August was less aggressive and loud on your way toward the car. He grinned and talked about your perfect ass the whole time.

At least you got him off your back by letting him fuck your ass. A silver lining in the dark pit your world became.

“You’ve done so well for us. We made so much money,” Walter soothingly runs his big hand over your back as you try not to move too much.

You are in the largest bathtub you have ever seen. Walter insisted on running you a bath and on joining you. A trick, of course. You ended up impaled on his insatiable cock to keep him warm once again.

“Feels good keeping my big cock warm, doesn’t it?” He laughs when you hide your face in his chest. You’d love to tell him that you are sore and tired, but he wouldn’t listen to you. None of them does.

“You tricked me,” you murmur, afraid to speak louder. “You lied too.”

“Kinda,” he pats your head. “We let our customers fuck our employees but provide a different service too. I kept my word, didn’t I? I only shared you with August. No other man will touch you ever again, lamb.”

“We call it live-action porn,” August snickers as he joins you in the tub. He stretches his long legs out and you instinctively cling to his brother. “Don’t worry, I’m satisfied for tonight. The blowjob you gave me in the back of the car was mind-blowing. You’re a little minx.”

“She was such a good girl for me. I’m so proud of her for letting herself fall,” Walter’s praise, makes your heart flutter. “I rewatched the close-up and got hard again. My sweet little lamb is a star. I hate to say it, but I told you so.”

“Hmmm…you don’t hate to say it, brother.” You squeak when August leans forward to grope your ass. “As long as I can fuck her, you can keep her. I’ll figure out how to make her disappearance believable.”

You stiffen. “Relax, baby lamb. We only want to keep you to ourselves. Bad people are after your dead husband, and I can tell, they’d love to get their hands on you.”

“You’re ours now. No need to be officially alive, right?” August pinches your ass meaningly and snickers when you try to move away. But you are trapped, still impaled on his brother’s cock. “Right.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Walter slaps his brother’s hand away. “She made fifty thousand bucks in one night for us. I told you she’s going to be good for us.”

“Good for you,” you sniffle. “So good…”

Walter showed mercy after he filled your cunt up for one last time. He cleaned you and put you into a barely-not-there nightie to present you to his brother.

“I like the way you dress her,” August laughs as you lie on the bed, worn-out, and tired. “She’s a damn porn star with a mouth and a tight hole like that.”

“She has had enough for one night,” Walter points at the door. “You can fuck her with me at the club, but nowhere else. The blowjob at the car was a one-time thing. She’s mine.”

“Christ, you are obsessed with her,” you hide your face in the cushions when the brothers start fighting over you again. “I want her at the club again next week. I got some VIPs waiting for a good show.”

“Next week,” Walter jerks his head toward the door. “Now leave. She needs sleep and me too. I fucked her so many times I’m a little tired myself.”

August glances at you one last time. He can’t help but feel a little jealous as you immediately move closer to his brother the moment he lies on the bed next to you.

“Night,” he walks out of the door, slamming it shut with a loud thud. You flinch and sniffle, knowing he’s mad at you again.

“Let him sulk, lamb,” Walter moves closer to you. “Come here. I’ll keep you safe and warm.”

You don’t argue or fight Walter when he tells you to lie on his chest. It’s easier to be good for him and do as he says. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

“He’ll lose interest soon and then you are all mine,” he whispers. “I’ll make sure that he doesn’t hurt you, my sweet lamb. You’re too good for me to go to waste.”

Walter runs his big hand over your back up to your shoulders and back down. Your eyes flutter shut, and you feel warm.

“I knew you were special when I saw you the other day. You smiled and giggled, but your husband didn’t pay attention to what you had to say. I think you came to the event to show off your pretty new dress, but he only had eyes for some other woman.”

Your eyes snap open again as he continues.

You remember that night. It was the last time you went out with your husband.

That was over a year ago. – He must have watched you for a long time if he saw you that night. How could this happen to you? Maybe he even had a hand in what happened to your husband.

“You looked so cute in that dress,” he nuzzles his face in your hair. “I would’ve loved to take you right there and then.” He chuckles. “August told me to not pay attention to some pussy but I watched you all night. Your smile faded and you hid in a corner as your useless husband flirted with some other woman.”

You don’t say a word, even if your heart is racing. Closing your eyes you try to pretend you are asleep. His words replay in your mind while you struggle to not freak out.

“I set my eyes on you that night,” he tickles your skin with his fingertips. “I knew you’d be a natural submissive - a little lamb.” Walter hums. “You enchanted me with your innocent smile and soft laughter. You didn’t dress to impress but looked like a goddess to me. August calls it an obsession. I call it fate…”

“Come with me,” Walter wraps his arm around your shoulders and guides you out of the safety of his bedroom. “I told you I got a surprise for you.”

You nod and let him lead the way. What else can you do? His admission from last night is still swirling in your mind. How could you not see that Walter knew you from the beginning?

“You’ll love it, lamb,” he murmurs and nuzzles his face in your neck.

“What is she doing here?” August grunts. He watches you like a hawk and squares his jaw. “I asked you a question, brother. We agreed on letting her stay in the guest room or your bedroom. The rest of this place is taboo.”

“Shut up,” Walter snaps at his brother. “After last night she has every right to be here. She let you fuck her ass and blew you off. We made fifty thousand bucks because of her. Now get out of my way.”

“What? I—”

It’s a small win, but watching August step out of his brother’s way makes you smirk for a second. At least he didn’t lie about protecting you from his brother.

“You heard me, brother. I bore your one-nighters and bimbos for years. If you don’t leave my lamb alone, you will not like my answer.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t live together if you always fight,” you murmur. With your eyes cast down, you can’t see the brothers turn their heads toward you to look down at you.

“Would you look at this cocky little bee,” August roughly cups your face, making you whimper as he forces you to look up at him. “What did you just say?”

“Fighting and arguing isn’t good for your well-being and blood pressure,” you recite one of the articles you read. “You are brothers and shouldn’t be mad at each other all the time.”

“Aw, she’s already worried about me,” Walter kisses your temple. “I knew she’d love me, brother. My sweet little lamb.”

August grunts. “She has a name. Maybe you should use it once in a while.” You glance at August, wondering if he’s as bad as you thought. He’s not wrong. You’d love hearing your name, not only a pet name.

“She likes it,” Walter bites back. “I can call her whatever I want. Maybe one day I’ll call her my wife!”

You suck in a breath.

“What?” August huffs. “You can’t be serious! Walter, you let me fuck her in front of dozens of guys jerking off while we destroyed her holes.”

“See, I share the most precious things with you, and you never appreciate it,” Walter possessively wraps his arm tighter around your shoulders. “Now, let me show Y/N my surprise.”

“Walter!” August calls after his brother. “This isn’t over!”

You follow Walter, stunned and speechless as he tells you how much you will love his surprise…

Part 6

Tags in reblog.

[meganwritesfanfics]

Clandestine Meeting (Joel Miller x Reader) Chapter 4

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Joel Miller x Reader

After getting caught by Tess, Joel gets some opinions from both her and Tommy about his relationship with the Reader.

Word Count: 1272

Rating M: For later chapters, angst.

“Tess,” Joel sighed as he ran his hand over his face. 

“Oh you’re Tess,” Y/N quickly said. “Hi, I am Y/N, I…” 

“I know who you are.” Tess quickly snapped her eyes never once looking at Y/N instead she glared at Joel. 

“Oh, right. Listen I’m sorry about the clothes, I will figure out a way to wash them and bring them back…” 

“Keep them.” 

“Really it’s no problem I…” Y/N started when suddenly Tess turned her attention towards Y/N and glared. “Right.” Y/N squeaked. “Um, Joel I think I better get going, thank you for everything today. I will see you around.” 

Joel didn’t say anything in response as Y/N quickly snuck out the door. 

“Tess…” Joel started. 

“What the fuck Joel, what the fuck was Miss Goodie Two Shoes doing in our apartment.” 

“She had asked for my help and I…” 

“And you jumped at the chance, anything to get you more points towards getting lucky with her right?” 

“That’s not…” 

“Jesus Christ Joel, she is half your age, not to mention married to a F.E.D.R.A. officer. What are you thinking?” Tess snapped as she stormed into the kitchen and poured herself a drink. 

“It’s not like that.” Joel snapped. 

“Oh yeah sure it isn’t, I saw the way you were looking at her.” Tess took a giant swig, and then she sighed placing the cup back on the counter. “Listen, I don’t care who you fuck, but that girl, she tends to cause a lot of fucking problems around here and draws a lot of attention, and that is the last thing we need.” 

“I know that Tess, fuck I wasn’t… I didn’t… she had asked for my help, and I helped that is all.” 

“Well next time she comes around asking for help, tell her to fuck off, alright.” 

“Alright.” Joel agreed. He knew Tess was right, he knew that getting himself involved in anyway with Y/N would just lead to trouble. And that was the last thing he needed or wanted especially if it caused any trouble for Tess or Tommy. 

With the thought of Tommy, Joel quickly headed for the door. Tess didn’t say a word, that wasn’t their relationship. Joel and Tess knew each others boundaries, they knew when to care and when to back off. But they also knew that neither one were dependent on the other. They were two separate people who had a common goal, staying alive, and keep those they cared about alive. And right now the only people on that list were each other and Tommy. There was no need for her to ask where Joel was going, They both trusted each other enough to know that they would never do anything to jepordize the life they had built. So she let Joel leave. Even though in the back of her mind she still couldn’t stop thinking about the way Joel looked at Y/N and how much she wished that he looked at her the same way. 

Joel angrily stormed his way to Tommy’s place. When they had first moved into Boston, Tommy had insisted that he have his own place. After everything Joel and Tommy had been through, he needed space from his brother. So much to Joel’s dismay, Tommy had a different apartment. And much to Tommy’s dismay it just happened to be down the hall from Joel’s. 

As he reached the front door, Joel banged on it angrily. “Tommy!” He shouted. 

“Joel, I saw you less than 4 hours ago what could you…” Tommy started when Joel grabbed him back his shirt collar and pushed him into the apartment. 

“Did you know about the attack today.” Joel snarled. 

“What?” 

“The bomb, just down the road, did you plant that?” 

Tommy had joined the Fireflies almost immediately after they had moved to the QZ. Joel had been livid, but he also recognized that maybe this was Tommy’s twisted way of making up for the things that they had done. Maybe he thought this was saving people. 

“Joel you know I can’t tell you that.” 

Joel instantly socked Tommy square in the jaw. 

“What the fuck!” Tommy gasped. 

“There were people in that building you bombed, innocent people. I pulled a woman out of there that’s foot was completely crushed, if she survives she is never going to be able to walk again. What is she supposed to do then? You think F.E.D.R.A. isn’t going to give a shit, that she can’t walk. How is she going to feed herself Tommy. Jesus fuck. And there were kids in there Tommy. Fucking kids. We pulled a three year old out of there with a head injury whose parents died. You still think your firefly fucks are the good guys?” 

Tommy stood there, stunned. He knew that Joel was against the fireflies. Hell Joel had been extremely vocal about how much he didn’t like that Tommy was a part of them. But nothing like this. 

“You and Tess, you were helping people?” He asked. 

Joel froze. He hadn’t thought through what sort of questions his reaction would arise. And he was not at all equipped to handle them. 

“No, uh. Not Tess.” Joel responded quickly. 

“Then who is we?” 

“Y/N.” 

“Y/N Kelley?” Tommy sighed. “Fuck Joel, please tell me you don’t mean Y/N Kelley.” 

“She asked for my help Tommy. I wasn’t going to say no.” 

“Why the fuck not, you have said no to plenty of people before. Why now? Is it cause some pretty piece of ass comes knocking at your door…” 

“Watch your mouth!” Joel snapped. 

Tommy sighed. 

“Joel, F.E.D.R.A. does not like her, the Fireflies do not like her. The only people who like her are the citizens. She causes so many problems.” 

“She helps people Tommy. Is that a fucking crime?” 

“It is when you are married to a fucking F.E.D.R.A officer.” Tommy snapped. “She is dangerous. Now I don’t know how you know her, and I don’t know why you seem to care so much about her, but you need to stop. She could get you in deep shit with F.E.D.R.A. or worse killed.” 

Joel sighed. “I helped her the one time, ok, that’s it.” 

“Good, and that better be it.” 

Joel rolled his eyes as he turned and left without saying another word. 

As he walked into the hallway he walked straight into Y/N. 

“I’m sorry…” Y/N started when she saw that it was Joel. “Oh just the person I was looking for.” 

Joel looked over his shoulder making sure that the door to Tommy’s apartment was shut, before he roughly grabbed Y/N’s arm and lead her down the hall. 

“What the hell are you doing back here?” He snapped and Y/N was taken aback by his aggressive tone. 

“I just wanted to thank you again for your help today.” Y/N said as she stared into Joel’s eyes. 

“Alright you thanked me now go.” 

“What the fuck Joel?” Y/N snapped. “Why are you acting like this.” 

“Because I have wasted my whole afternoon with you, missed my shift, and now you are back trying to take up more of my fucking time.” He sneered. 

Y/N froze her mouth agape with shock. It took her a moment to compose herself before she ripped her elbow out of his grasp. “Fuck you.” She snapped as she stormed away, leaving Joel in the hallway alone, his heart broken. 

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[succubusvalentine]

Athánati Omorfiá

read Part One!

Part 2

Word count : 1.4k

Rating : G (Pure Fluff) Future chapters may have explicit content.

Summary : Eddie Munson, tour guide for the British museum in London, is passionate about his work, and is infatuated with an ancient statue called 'The Beauty Of Stéphanos'. But what will happen when he crosses paths with a man who looks exactly like the statue he is so enamoured by?

Everybody in the museum noticed Eddie’s upbeat attitude as of late.

Eddie was more compliant with wearing his sweaters and hair up, his hands moving at the speed of light whenever he spoke, not just when he was talking about history.

But nobody knew why

Eddie was practically skipping around during his tour. And when he got to the statue of Stéphanos, this man was talking at a million miles a second. Really, half of the tour group had to ask him to slow down.

And during his lunch break he would sit on his phone and giggle to himself, pulling his hair in front of his face.

'Eddie!' Thomas yelled out.

Eddie looked up, slamming his phone on his desk, internally grimacing at the thought of his phone most definitely having a crack in it.

'Yes sir?' Eddie asked simply

'I need you to show around our new curator. And for the love of God stop calling me sir' Thomas groaned.

Eddie gave the grumpy museum director a quick salute before standing up and out of his chair.

'So what's your name?' Eddie asks the girl with a bob.

'Robin' she said, looking around Eddie's office. 'So why exactly did you slam your phone down? Were you watching porn or something?' she continued.

'W-what?-no-I was messaging a friend'

'Right'

Eddie's face went red and he just grumbled telling Robin to follow him.

Eddie did a fast paced tour around the building while also giving Robin some valuable information, such as which coffee machine to use and what time the ass kissing receptionist went on her half an hour smoke breaks.

'Jesus Christ, you seriously know everything don't you' Robin said, adjusting her bag.

'I do my best. Now this is your office, do whatever you want with it, Thomas will try and get you to keep it professional for about the first month. Then he just gives up' Eddie smiles

Robin nods, looking around the dusty office that hasn't been used for maybe two years?

She puts her bag down and sits in the chair, immediately regretting her decision as a cloud of dust shoots into the air, causing both her and Eddie to erupt into coughing fits.

'God-you, you cough like a grandma' Eddie laughs between coughs.

'You're one to talk' Robin shoots back.

Eddie checks his watch, he's got a tour in about 10 minutes. Shit.

He says a quick goodbye to his new co-worker and rushed out the door to his office, grabbing his lanyard and hair tie.

And right as he's about to leave his office, his phone buzzes.

Eddie picks it up and as soon as his phone lights up his face is splitting into an almost Cheshire grin.

It's Steve! Steve!

And as he opens Steve's message, Eddie swears that his heart skips 4 beats.

Hey! Wanna grab coffee after your shift? 3:21pm

Okay Eddie, play it cool. Of course he can play it cool. How can somebody play it uncool over text? Calm down Eddie. Seriously.

How about we make it dinner? It'll be late by the time I'm done with my paperwork and I know a really good restaurant close to the museum 3:22pm

That was cool. Right? Or was the message too long? Maybe asking to go to dinner was too forward.

His phone lit up again

Even better! :) 3:22pm

Alright. Meet me outside the museum at 6? 3:23pm

Sounds good! 3:23pm

Eddie was practically giggling like a school girl. He never understood the saying 'butterflies in my stomach' saying. Well, he may have before with other crushes, (God he's 23 and he's still saying crush?) but with Steve, It felt like his stomach was on fire. Flame tickling his insides.

God he's such a sap.

Eddie looked up at the clock for the 8th time in thirty minutes. He couldn't help it ok? The most gorgeous man alive was interested in Eddie. Maybe interested. Well, Eddie hopes that Steve is interested. I mean it feels like it, they message nearly all the time, and Eddie feels like he's known Steve for years.

But maybe Steve wasn't interested. Maybe-Maybe Steve just thought Eddie was a fun toy to play with. Eddie hasn't always been seen as a guy everybody wants. Especially in high school. Eddie was the kind of guy that was asked out just for laughs.

Whether it be the time Eddie got asked out, just to have him covered in eggs, or the time that he got left a rose every day for a week before valentines and when he finally got a note asking for Eddie to meet them somewhere, Eddie got stripped to his boxers and tied to a pole.

But he left all that behind and moved to London.

Eddie looked up again at the clock and saw that it was 5:58pm. Shit.

He grabbed all his things and bolted out the door. Nearly forgetting his backpack.

He burst out the museum doors and saw a startled Steve.

'Jesus dude' Steve laughed

'Sorry, sorry! I had to rush, I got caught up' Eddie said, bending over and leaning against his knees, gulping down air.

'It's fine don't worry about it' Steve smiled. God that smile. Safe to say that Eddie has known this guy all of 2 weeks and he is absolutely whipped.

'Shall we?' Eddie asks, after finally catching his breath.

'We shall, sir Eddie' Steve laughed.

And he was a nerd? How was Eddie not supposed to fall for him.

Eddie practically dragged Steve towards the restaurant that was a couple blocks over. Everyone around them looking at the two like they were crazy kids.

Eddie let go of Steve's hand and rushed up to the doors of the restaurant, holding one open gesturing to Steve 'For you, King Stéphanos' Eddie smiles.

'Jesus nobody's called me that in ages' Steve chuckles, his eyes widening slightly 'King I mean, I used to be called King Steve in high school' he continued.

Eddie giggled boyishly at Steve's admission.

'Hi! Welcome to Nostalgic Diner! Table for two?' The hostess asks 'Oh hi Eddie!' She smiles recognising the young man.

'Hey Sue, yeah table for two' Eddie said.

Sue guided the two to a booth before throwing down some menus.

'Strawberry milkshake Eddie?' Sue asks knowingly

'Please, Sue'

Sue smiled at them before walking away.

'So you come here often?' Steve asks

'Trying to hit on me?'

'What-no no, I just meant that the hostess she knew your name and-and you knew hers so I-'

'relax I'm kidding, yeah. I come here a lot'

Steve visibly relaxes and Eddie slides a menu towards him.

'You want to take a look at the menu or do you want to hear my amazing recommendations?' Eddie asks

'I mean, you seem to know what's good on the menu here. So what is your amazing recommendation?'

'You seem like a chocolate milkshake and a bacon burger kind of guy'

'Then, a chocolate milkshake and bacon burger it is'

Once they got their food, they talked about anything and everything

'So what is your accent anyway? I can tell it's not British but it's something. Some of your words, they have a twang to it' Eddie asked

'Yeah...I lived in Greece up until I was about...um 12' Steve answered. But why did he almost sound unsure?

Eddie didn't think about it for too long, already asking a million questions about Greece, and if Steve had seen all the ancient landmarks.

But Steve didn't mind. He answered every question with as much passion as Eddie.

'So, did you get your ring from Greece?' Eddie asked. And he could have sworn he saw Steve's smile falter for a split second, before answering

'Oh yeah, my mom gave it to me' Steve replied softly, staring at the ring.

'Could I take a better look at it? It looks old but somehow preserved amazingly'

'No! I can't take it off!' Steve suddenly shouted. Eddie widened his eyes at his response and tried not to take it to heart.

'I'm sorry, I mean, I can't take it off because my mom died and the last thing she asked was for me to never take it off' Steve said, sadness covering his entire face

'No, I shouldn't have pushed' Eddie said, almost too quickly.

The silence was quickly broken by Steve telling Eddie about the trips he would take to see the Temple Of Poseidon, to which Eddie was nothing but totally invested.

HI BOZOS!!!

Oh my goodness part two what we thinking????

You know I seriously think I'm a genius for that king steve bit but that might just be me

how many fucking times did i say God in this jesus

As always lmk what you think of my work by liking, commenting, reblogging, maybe even following idk.

Part three next week!!!

TAG LIST !

@hyperfixationgoddess

@finalmoondragon

@child-of-cthulhu

@sadcanadianwinter

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@estrellami-1

[e17omm]

Ranting about Natlan part 2 (act 2)! Whohooooo god I am dying from heat.

Its actually not all negative this time. Its less just ranting and more thoughts of the Archon quest.

I ramble at the lack of stakes or tension at the end. That part's actually me venting frustrations.

TL:DR; quest is disappointing because it could have gone in a very fresh and tense direction but it doesnt because this is 2024 Hoyo.

Music is chill nice vacation music.

Conversation is about the country's constant war with a cunning immaterial enemy that has been fighting them for 500 years.

Nice to see that Hoyo completely succeeds at tone. (Sarcastic)

2. PREDICTION TIME! Kachina is actually gonna stay dead because the resurrection thing is gonna fail and Im meant to feel sad because this character that speedran her character arc in 1 hour and that I've only known for that hour is dead.

3. Traveller casually knows the song????

4. what a surprise! Kachina is (supposedly) dead. My money's on that she was captured or is hiding or something.

She "died" off-screen and Ive known her for an hour. Come on.

5. Oh? We're gonna investigate with the Archon, Mondstadt style? Im game.

I still dont care about Kachina, because again, Ive barely met her. But investigating with the Archon has been a while. I welcome it.

6. Damn, Mauvika just beat the shit out of him. The fight did turn into flying anime line battle, but the music was jamming.

7. aaah damn we arent gonna be investigating with the Archon. Shame. That would've been fun.

8. Did the Pyro Archon legit just send us to go to the Night Kingdom with a stone we can only use if one guy happens to be at the settlement at the time and we can find these fetch quest items he needs?

Who wrote this script? The Archon talked as if she had a way to go to the Night place and she doesnt? ANd now we are on a fetch quest to eat up time? Come on.

9. EVERYONE has sob stories in Natlan jesus christ.

I just wanna clarify that theres nothing wrong with sobstories in themselves, but they wont make me care about a character unless it actually matters to the story.

10. Man I hoped they would be pissed that we broke the thingy. Fucking Hell Hoyo games needs to have character conflict brought back.

11. oh we are going with the Archon... Oh yeah nevermind ignore point 8. I write these points as Im playing.

12. Oh I almost forgot, but yeah Kachina is alive. No surprise there.

13. Pyro Archon is a bitchass mf. Venti can barely fight and he still traveled with us. You can fight and you're not coming with us? Lame. (Im being half serious here)

14. This friendship and fighting with my friends arc feels incredibly cheap. Probably because its been 4 hours long.

15. and we ALMOST had an incredibly interesting plot direction.

Almost.

Hoyo keeps doing these fakeouts that I am actually yawning. Unironically, Im yawning. Whenever anything doesnt go to plan something always saves us. This happens in every one of their Honkaiverse games now. You can do a fakeout here and there, but not every time.

I hope someone understands my boredom with this. I lean back in my chair and go "and SURELY no one will burst in and save us from being trapped in the Abyss for more than 5 seconds, aaaaand there's the Pyro Archon. (yawn)" because it has happened so many consecuative times by now that its not tense or exciting any more.

16. I feel like Natlan would've been such a good story if we didnt JUST arrive here. It feels like there is a lot of sentimentality here, but I dont get invested in flashbacks and sob stories.

17. People claiming that the Traveler is just a spectator so its fine if they dont get stronger or have a character are sure is quiet after this quest.

This quest was pretty disappointing. Again, repeating myself over and over, but Natlan's biggest issue is that its the 6th region and Hoyo's baits never land so I've stopped grabbing at them.

You know what would have been a plot development that would have rekindled the fire of excitement inside of me? If we ACTUALLY got trapped in the Abyss, instead of having another bait of literally anything bad happening to anyone ever.

Can you imagine the plot if we got trapped in the Abyss for an extended period of time and had to survive and scavange for things to eat while trying to retain our sanity as we search for a way out?

Wouldn't that be fresh and exciting and something we haven't seen before?

But that would be something bad happening to our characters and we cant have that! No no boys and girls, nothing bad ever happens to the heroes! But we will sure keep baiting that it will happen! Are you still nibbing at the baits? Are you still worried for them? We will never actually do it but we will keep casting baits!

I want to be proven wrong so fucking badly you dont understand. Hoyo used to write stories I actually got invested in because at any moment, with a few wrong moves, something bad could happen to the characters. Not even death! In the [Seele] cinematic, Bronya could have been trapped in the Sea of Quanta and Seele would have had to go back in to pull her out (which is what she does, but it could have been a 1-chapter arc if Hoyo wanted to). But moments like that never happens any more.

We could have been trapped in the Abyss for an extended period of time before Mauvika found and rescued us and everyone could have escaped with their lives!

But NO! Instead we find Kachina right away, solve a small part of the problem, get baited with being trapped there before instantly being rescued and Kachina gets treated right away and SHES PERFECTLY FINE. THEY BAITED HER DEATH EARLIER TOO.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHY IM NOT FUCKING WORRIED ABOUT ANYONES LIVES?!

IF THERE WAS ANY CONSEQUENCE AND ANY STAKES AT ALL KACHINA WOULD AT LEAST HAVE BEEN AFFECTED FOR A FEW DAYS BUT NO, SHES PERFECTLY FINE.

WHY SHSOAJD =IA^SPE DHUja9o'

Why should I care when the result is ALWAYS that everyone is perfectly fine and happy?

No one would have even needed to die or been permanently injured. But we get saved instantly.

Where's the tension and stakes supposed to be?

[toastling]

I just love disability pay.

For those who don't know, I recently underwent surgery, and have been out of work since January in the lead-up to said surgery dealing with multiple infections and abscesses and healing in preparation. When I got put on temporary disability, I was told I'm good through June 31st and can call if I ever needed an extension. But on Friday near the end of the business, day I get an e-mail saying actually I'm only good until the 16th, and also, if I need an extension, I have until the 11th to call them and let them know to get the paperwork e-mailed. I figure "Okay, that's fine, they've been operational 7 days a week for any questions or corrections these last 6 months", except, for extensions specifically, they only operate on week days. Now mind you they only told me any of this in a single e-mail at the last possible second at the end of a Friday, so, there was no chance I could call them and get the paperwork sent over to have my doctor fill out over the weekend. The 11th is Tuesday. Since they won't handle this particular thing on weekends, I have Monday and Monday alone to call up, get the paperwork, send that paperwork to my doctor, and then send it back to them for approval. There is almost No chance that the last two steps are going to be completed in the span of Monday alone, especially since the surgeon in charge of my case is only in the office near me on Tuesdays, and only before noon, which means I'm going to have to try and get said paperwork to him to be filled out on a day he isn't even in town and insist it's rushed as fast as possible or I'll miss the deadline I didn't know I had until yesterday. It's like, incredibly obvious it's set up this way intentionally because America really doesn't want you to stay alive if you're disabled, even only temporarily, but Jesus Christ dude.

What's more, I've been making an entire third less what I should have been this entire 6 month period, forced to get by on $100 a week, because the way they calculate disability in my state is based on my prior 4 weeks of work before going on medical leave.

But as it happens, since I was chronically ill and was getting sicker than ever more often than before, I'd just missed an entire month of work just before the infection and abscess that took me out pre-surgery these past 6 months.

I'd only been back to work for 3 weeks by the time I was forced to go on leave again, and because I'd been out for so long before that and my schedule is created 3 weeks in advance, my manager had to finagle things a lot to squeeze me onto the schedule at all for those 3 weeks, so I was working WAY fewer hours than I normally did, meaning I was making less money than I normally would. And because I didn't reach that 4 week benchmark, that is what my disability pay was calculated off of, not what I actually, normally make in a week.

I've kind of just Let That Go this entire time because I live with my family still, so thankfully I've been able to get by on 100 a week by focusing solely on the most essential stuff, namely my personal groceries, and my family has been carrying me with any other expenses along the way, including medical ones (my surgery and bowel infections have been covered by my insurance 100%, but my dental emergencies which have also been going on continuously since January have not), but man, the combination of all this is just. Incredibly frustrating.

It should not be this difficult to have surgery and not, under ordinary circumstances, end up on the street during recovery because I can't work for X amount of months, but, you know, greatest country on Earth and all that. God bless the American healthcare and social safety net systems.

As an aside though, for anybody with more experience being on temporary disability pay than me - do you think it would be possible for me to appeal and get the money I *should* have been making this entire time this late into my claim? Because with the dental bills in particular, it would be nice if I could get the last 24 weeks of that missing third of my rightful pay to get back in the black with my dentist.

I was told it's NY state regulations, the whole prior 4 weeks of work calculation thing, but I do have extenuating circumstances there that impacted my paycheck. But like, would that even matter to these people?

[pixelatedbugs]

what do you mean theres no more “the scholar and the merchant” crossed path . i need more gay men

okay im going to ramble about the stories ive completed now spoilers! uh oh! for partitio, osvald, ochette, temenos, and hikari! (the last two, i havent completed their stories but i mention something spoilery)

i did partitio’s first since he was my first character and i needed to get him OUT of that first party slot . he’s free now . I loved the story though i was mildly disappointed in the ending (i wanted that old capitalist man to die) but tbh it wouldn’t have really fit the tone or partitio’s character to leave him for dead. plus partitio started the whole ass industrial revolution and created the concept of a department store so . that chapter was really fun by the way, i love how it actually had a permanent effect on the town and also alrond is fuckin great. the final boss was teetering on annoying for me but I think that was because i was a bit underleveled for it. overall i think it was creative, i mean it was a fucking train thats sick as hhell. but that cannon does SO much damage god.

osvald. holy shit massive mood change . like i already had a big mood whiplash when i got osvald after agnea but damn. anyway harvey is actually fucked up, way more than I already thought he was. if he wanted to steal osvald’s research and kidnap his wife and kid for their special magic blood he should’ve just killed osvald. that would’ve been the smart decision, but he’s so envious, so angry that they’re equal and he’s not better, that he decides to frame osvald for killing his wife and daughter, leaving him stuck in a really shitty maximum security prison for 5 years, then use his wife’s blood to make a chimera (okay shou tucker), lies to osvald saying it’s actually her. and it does have her voice, and i presume a bit of her mind, considering that once it begins to run out of health it starts to crumble and cry, and its tears heal osvald…its still not her though. she’s dead because harvey saw no more use in her. but hey, osvald’s daughter is still alive! and her minds been fucking manipulated so she thinks harvey is her father. jesus christ chapter 4 fucked me up. anyway the final boss battle was great. Osvald finally finding the answer through wanted to protect Elena was fucking awesome. the power of love is based and its also a giant fuck-off laser beam that transcends the elements to all foes, and reduces their shield points regardless of their weak points that costs 75 SP.

ochette’s was so good! the final boss being the companion I didn’t pick (in my case, the lājackal) almost made me cry. it was so sad, it didn’t deserve that, and im really excited to see my mom play her story because she picked the lājackal and I wanna know what Mahina could’ve been…also, the boss fight was hard as fucking hell, and extremely creative. The fact that it gets different attributes based on who you’re using??? thats fucking sick?? why did i have to be using castti so it got infinite heals every turn?? i still beat it first try but god it was hard. i still don’t like the human chief but at least she’s trying. I was really worried we were going to come back to the beastling village being overrun ON TOP of the night of the scarlet moon. oh yeah, who the fuck was the dark hunter? probably will find that out later..

also starting to see where these stories connect. The Shadow and D’arqest have been a running theme, at least in ochette’s, osvald’s, temenos’, and it’ll probably show up in hikari’s as well. plus there’s that purple fog with the creepy music that shows up sometimes (it was the same music during the part with all the corrupted people during osvald chapter 5…)

anyway im going to take a break now. i wanted to do castti’s so i could train up my lower characters but i am tired because i played for like 10 hours straight . hyperfixations suck ass sometimes i cannot stop thinking about the fuckin game and i need to fuckin sleep. holy shit i wrote a lot sorry.

[sollertree]

31 Dec 2023

It's been more than 2 years since I've written here on this dusty old page. So much has changed in these 2 years. Standing on the brink of another new year, I want to remember and reflect and be grateful.

2022 was a year of growth - fresh out of MMed, bright-eyed and hopeful at work, striving to do my best with the opportunities I was given. Growing my resilience with daily manpower fires that I had to fight on interrupted sleep and raging pregnancy hormones. Growing my empathy for colleagues (more senior than I) who could not practice independently. Growing in patience as God whispered wait, My child. Growing (literally) a baby and my body and heart stretching with each passing month. Growing in faith amidst fear of a 9cm ovarian cyst picked up incidentally on my first trimester scan, and multiple viral illnesses (COVID19 included) that rendered me weak and spent and anxious.

2023 - definitely a year of trials.

A prolonged 37 hour labour that ended in a God-ordained C-section (which further confirmed the miraculous disappearance of the bladder-masquerading-cyst), a tumultuous journey of breastfeeding (never enough, but something is better than nothing), a steep learning curve keeping a baby alive, a tug of war at home with rage and resentment abound, 1-in-4 nights alone with baby in survival mode, nursing blocked ducts and immense sleep deprivation, feeling trapped and touched-out but yet not wanting to be apart from my child.

Then the trials of preparing to return to work; figuring out pumping whilst seeing patients, drop-off schedules, childcare plans... Enlisting the help of our first domestic helper - which started off swimmingly well with easy communication, trust fostered through late night pumps/feeds together, her helping me kill kitchen cockroaches and really saving me from the pits of sleep deprivation and near-depression. Probably the biggest trial of all was facing my feelings of betrayal and disappointment with her dishonesty and stealing and double standards at Dover and Euro-Asia. Feeling helpless, all trust dissolved, how could I even trust her to look after my son? Kneeling in front of me, crying for forgiveness and yet still lying blatantly. Yo-yoing back and forth between decisions to keep her or let her go. Drawing boundaries. Feeling assured about keeping her and giving her a second chance, a surefire way to grow my likeness to Christ's heart of grace and forgiveness. Still. Not knowing what the future will hold.

Another trial at work - first, how do I even function on <5 hours of interrupted sleep ever night? Second, how do I deal with leadership that does not look after staff welfare? A crazy amount of angst, emotions and trying to take things into my own hands, venting with friends and watching a mass exodus. Giving it one last shot with Joy in Work, and a culmination of all this stress towards the decision to go part-time in 2024.

The trial I hate to talk about - of looking at myself in the mirror and not liking what I see even more than before. A body stretched and marked, heavy and thick. Permanent eyebags and thinning hair. Perpetual wrist pains. Not wanting to be included on photographs because I hate how I look. Nothing in my wardrobe fitting me even after 11 months post-partum. Trying not to compare with friends who literally bounced back a few months after delivery.

But how can I forget the biggest trial of all - motherhood. I would not trade this season for anything in the world. As much as the nights and days and my body and time are not mine anymore, I revel in it. I choose to. I want to. This time with Sammy being this small is slipping by so quickly; how can it be that he is already almost one year old? I have embraced contact naps, bed-sharing, nursing to sleep and comforting as much and as often as I can. Attachment theory aside, this is what speaks to my core -- love and persevere. He may not see it or remember all that I am doing, but I hope he will grow up strong and secure in the knowledge of a love without expectations.

I am tumbling into the new year with many unprocessed emotions and unresolved thoughts. There is much that I do not know about what next year looks like. But I hope to continue walking in faith even in the dim, dark nights, just placing one foot in front of the other.

When darkness tries to roll over my bones When sorrow comes to steal the joy I own When brokenness and pain is all I know I won't be shaken, no, I won't be shaken My fear doesn't stand a chance When I stand in Your love

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

A Mighty Triumph

“When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, “Surely He was the Son of God!” Matthew 27:54NIV

Roman soldiers ‘got’ what Pharisees couldn’t understand. They understood the manifestation of Christ.

The veil separating the ‘holy place’ from the ‘most holy place’ was torn in two from top to bottom. Finally, God could be with the mankind He'd made and loved. Historian Josephus reportedly wrote that the temple’s veil was 4 inches thick.

A major phenomena was the total solar eclipse for three hours, noon to three. I was in the solar eclipse in California back in 2017, it wasn’t three hours. Per Google— ‘The longest possible duration of a total solar eclipse is 7 minutes and 32 seconds.’ The earth stopped rotation and no one realized time literally stood still. God can accomplish anything He chooses to do.

Besides the strange events— Can you imagine the grief of Mary, Mary Magdalene, the apostles, His other beloved followers? I’ve comforted spouse’s grieving for their deceased mates, also parents grieving for their child. My best friend lost both son and husband within seven days. We leaned on each other and sobbed for days, she for years. Jesus’ followers didn’t lose a cherished friend, beloved son. No! They lost their hopes forever for their nation’s future, for they knew He was Messiah. They’d expected Him to save them from Rome then.

Rather than being dead, Jesus spent three days busy in the bowels of the earth. Ephesians 4:8-10NIV describes this time. “…When He ascended on high, He took many captives and gave gifts to His people.” (What does “He ascended” mean except that He also descended to the lower, earthly regions? He who descended is the very one who ascended higher than all the heavens, in order to fill the whole universe.)” — Colossians 2:15ESV adds to this description. “He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in Him.” — Christ tells what He did in Hades in Revelation 1:18ESV. “And the Living One. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades.”

Jesus removed from satan forever the power over death, for every believer, when He took away satan’s keys. One experience I had almost took my life. I walked the hallway to death. I can tell you, the pain you can’t stand is the threshold to that hallway between life and the hereafter. After that— “Death is swallowed up in victory.” “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1Corinthians 15:54-56ESV. We’ll never experience more than that one unendurable pain. Glory to God. Some won’t even experience that pain.

Grief had to give way to exuberant joy. These followers of Christ had the most blessed resurrection Sunday. Joy unspeakable and full of glory. Mom shared in that joy. Every Resurrection Sunday Mom’s wonderful, alto voice awoke the family singing what Robert Lowry penned— “Up from the grave He arose; With a mighty triumph o’er His foes; He arose the Victor from the dark domain. And He lives forever, with His saints to reign. He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!”

What I want to tell you today is— no grief here: HALLELUJAH HE IS RISEN INDEED!

Do you know Him today? Don’t turn Him away? Choose Jesus the VICTOR. It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Holy Yahweh, thank You for the wise plan You had to rescue humanity from hell. Thank You for paying the price of separation, and seeing Your only Son punished and murdered for us. Help us to appreciate this more and spread the gospel, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2023 You have my permission to reblogthis devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional as author. Thank you.

[wincestdailyheadcanons]

(TW: Suicide) Wincest Unhinged #1 Three weeks after Sam Winchester died in Cold Oak South Dakota, Bobby Singer received a text message from an unknown number.

"No demon would deal. I can't burn his body. I can't watch that." -D

The old man sighed in relief. Dean Winchester was still alive. Part of him had expected Dean to eat a bullet the moment after he had left.

Dean didn't want to live without Sam, but maybe, Dean would at least come with him, help stop the horde of demons that had been set free…

A realization hit him. Dean had been in that cabin for 3 weeks with Sam's rotting body. He didnt want to think of the condition either of them were in. 

"Jesus christ, Dean."

It only took Bobby 4 hours to get to the cabin. From the outside everything looked peaceful, calm, and beautiful. 

Bobby looked around for the Impala. He didnt see it. Bobby opened the door to his car and got out. An odd kix of smells filled the air.

"Dean!" He called. "Dean where you at?"

Bobby opened the door to the cabin and peeked in. The bed they had laid Sam on was empty, the table with the food he brought laid molded and forgotten.

"Dean?" Bobby called, almost gagging.

Something crinkled under his boot. Bobby looked down at a note.

"He's around back. "

Dean had gotten Sam a beautiful pine box for his pyre. Had built it overlooking the lake. The bottom part of the casket was covered by flowers and photos of the brothers at every stage of life. Among the flowers and photos Bobby could see Deans cherished amulet. 

Dean had left it. Knowing Dean, he saw himself as undeserving of wearing it, had twisted his mind that he believed himself to be a failure for having let Sam get killed.

Bobby recognized the smell of gasoline, and salt, masked by the flowers and decay.

Bobby took a deep breath, and took out his lighter. Sam had given it to him last year. He watched the flame flicker brightly, and then tossed it onto the pyre.

Bobby watched the flames consume the wood, then slowly work its way to the casket, the flowers, and photos, and then the amulet, catching fire.

Bobby felt his phone vibrate. A sick, overwhelming feeling of dread hit him like a wave. Normally out of respect, he wouldn't have touched his phone until the pyre had burnt out. But something told him to look.

A text message from the same unknown number.

"Thank you. I couldn't let him go alone."

Bobby swallowed, looking around frantically for Dean. Surely he had to be somewhere, watching? Bobby went into the cabin, searching, calling the phone number, listening, hoping to hear it ringing somewhere..

"Dean!?" Bobby all but screamed, frantically looking. He ran up the stairs, stumbling and falling hard on the last step. He pulled himself up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg. He went into the bedroom that faced the lake and pulled back the tattered curtains and looked out, scanning, searching the shore across the lake  for Dean.

In the water he could see the flames' reflection shining off of something black and shiny. 

His stomach dropped. It was the top of a car.

Bobby kept calling again and again, praying, he hadn't prayed since his wife died. No answer.

Bobby went back to the pyre, maybe he could see Dean, or hear the phone better out, something, anything…

One ring, two ring, three ring… Bobby heard the sound of a ringtone, faint, but there, close, so close, it rang again, and Bobby turned his head to the sound, realizing with sickening horror that it was coming from the now fully engulfed casket…

"No. No. No." 

Bobby called one more time.

The call went straight to voicemail.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

I couldn’t think of anything for Ectober Week day 5’s prompts, so since I’m only doing the week and not the month, I stole a prompt from earlier in the month: Cause of death.

Coroner’s Report

[Warnings for autopsies and death and gratuitous swearing]

[Recording Begins]

"Subject is Daniel J. Fenton, age fourteen. Rushed to the hospital after a supposed accident in his parents' home laboratory. Pronounced dead on arrival at 4:18 PM, September 20th, 2004."

The voice of Amity Park Medical Examiner Dr. Osiris Blanch speaks into his recorder. He does this so he doesn't forget anything when he writes his official reports. He will transcribe the recording into his written report later, as he always does, for the police and insurance company and whoever else to use in their investigation of the boy's parents.

He has a habit of talking to himself while he works anyway, narrating his actions, so recording is the most efficient way to ensure he provides an accurate coroner's report.

"Cause of death appears to be electrocution," he continues.

As he records, he is looking at the state of the corpse, covered in subdermal burns. Even hours after his death, the coroner could still smell ozone in the air, and he could feel the hair on his arms slowly standing on end from the static.

"In addition to electrical burns below the skin, the body appears to have some peculiar burn marks spanning from the left hand to the heart, atypical of electrical burns. Possibly... plasma burns, or some kind of radiation burns? Do I need to get a Geiger counter in here? Christ alive, what kinda lab did this kid get fried in exactly?"

There is a sigh on the recording, the sound of coffee being sipped from a mug, a loud, metallic clack as the recorder is placed on a steel implement stray, and another, quieter clack as Dr. Blanch puts down his coffee cup. The scraping of a scalpel being lifted off the implements tray very near the recorder.

"I will now begin the autopsy by making a Y-incision of the abdomen—AH!" The scalpel clatters against the metal autopsy table. "Ha... static shock."

Dr. Blanch's voice begins to sound uneasy here.

"I'm uh... I'm making the incision now." The quiet squelching of skin being sliced by a sharp blade is almost drowned out by the coroner's shaky breaths. "Shit, keep it steady..." he mutters to himself. "When did it get so goddamn cold in here?"

The scalpel quietly clicks against another tray, away from the sterilized instruments near the recorder.

"I'm opening up the chest now to begin the autopsy."

A sickly squelching of flesh and sinew being pulled apart is heard on the recording, and then a gasp from the coroner.

"The uh... the lights just flickered a little," Dr. Blanch explains. "There's no storm or anything that might cause a blackout, but if some idiot crashes into a telephone pole and knocks out the power, I'm gonna be pissed. This jobs a pain in the ass if the lights go out. Not to mention all the corpses in the drawers'll start to decay if the freezers turn off, and then I'll be up a creek."

An electric buzzing sounds briefly.

"Damn. The lights again," he says. "I can't just leave this kid cut open on my table and check the fuse box. Somebody else had better get it fixed though, or I'll give 'em hell." He sighs and scoffs before resuming the autopsy. "Anyway, I've opened up young Mr. Fenton's chest cavity and christ alive, I've seen a lot of people's entrails but this kid's look like an overcooked stew—"

The electric buzzing returns, louder, but only for a moment before the sound of glass shattering hits the recording, along with the thud caused by Dr. Blanch jumping in surprise and bumping hard against the other autopsy table behind him.

"Ow, fuck!" he shouts. "The fucking bulb just blew, and I hit my hip on... on... uh..."

All that can be heard on the recording for several seconds is an eerie distortion that hadn't been present before, almost melodic in the way it makes one's stomach turn with dread

"The... corpse... it's... shit it's definitely glowing..." the coroner says finally, voice overwritten by the strange distortion. "Fuck. Fuck! Should I be wearing a hazmat suit for this autopsy? There's no way this kid isn't radioa—what that fuck was that?" Dr. Blanch interrupts himself, followed by another thud as he backs desperately into the other table behind him.

"There was just... for a split second there was—there it is again!" he shouts. "Like, a ring of light, around the middle of the kid's body, flickering in the blink of an eye and then vanishing," he describes, voice awed and terrified. "I do not get paid enough for this freaky shit. If this kid sits up, I'm quitting."

His words are drowned out by a scream, the scream of an adolescent boy, quickly joined by the scream of a middle aged man. The screaming continues for a long time, until finally, both run out of breath.

"What... what's happening, where am I?" asks a young voice, alongside the sounds of skin sliding against metal.

"You're... I was... this is..." for once, Mr. Blanch seems to be at a loss for words. He is watching a pale and naked young boy try to hold the Y-incision in his chest cavity closed with his bare hands. "You were dead!" the doctor finally manages to shout.

"I'm not dead!" the boy shouts back.

"I can see that now!"

"Did you cut me open?"

"You were pronounced dead hours ago!" Dr. Blanch defends himself. "I was only doing my job! How the hell was I supposed to know you were still... alive... oh lord am I glad I didn't remove your brain first, christ alive!"

"My brain?!"

"Forget about that now," Dr. Blanch says, and he takes a deep breath. "You're not bleeding. Do you feel pain?" 

"I... no... no I don't why doesn't this hurt?" the young voice asks frantically.

"Lay down, I'll stitch you back up," says the coroner, and the quiet metallic sounds indicate that the boy obeys. "I don't know what's happening, but this kinda thing happening sure as shit isn't normal. I'm gonna start with the stitches now, alright?"

"Okay."

"You're Daniel Fenton, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I go by Danny though."

"Well, Danny, the fact of the matter is, you were definitely dead when they put you on my table earlier," Dr. Blanch explains, sounding resigned, if not actually calm. "Fuck if I know what that makes you now, but I do know that I don't get paid enough to make a fuss about it. Lord knows I'm gonna ask for a raise after this, though."

"So... what now, then?" Danny asks.

"Now, I'm gonna finish stitching you up," the coroners tells him. "I'm gonna give you a sheet to cover yourself with, and I'm gonna call up to the hospital and give them absolute hell for sending me a corpse that wasn't actually dead."

"I thought you said I was dead."

"You were, but I'm sure as shit not gonna try to explain that!" he lets out a brief, hysterical bark of laughter. "I'd be sent to a loony bin before I could blink! No way am I telling 'em that. I have a doctor friend who'll give you discharge papers if I ask without actually checking you over if you want, so you won't have to worry about them finding anything... unnatural. We went to med school together, and he trusts my expertise."

"That... would be for the best, probably," Danny agrees. As he says this, he is looking down at the incision on his chest, halfway stitched up and still not bleeding.

"I'd say so," Dr. Blanch concurs. "I definitely don't wanna get in any trouble for cutting open a living kid, even if you weren't when I did it." He sighs heavily again. "Jesus christ what is my life coming to, today? Anyway, after you're discharged, you can go home to your family, and I'll wipe any and all information about your autopsy from our systems and we can both pretend this never happened, and your quote-unquote 'death' was just a horrible misunderstanding. What do you say, Danny? Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah," the boy's voice sounds even more relived than the coroners. "Sounds like a plan."

There's a quiet click of the needle onto an instrument tray.

"Ah, I forgot..." Dr. Blanch mutters.

His footsteps are heard walking to the other tray, the one of sterile instruments. There are loud thumping and fumbling sounds as Dr. Blanch picks up the recorder to turn it off.

[End Recording]

[xbadgerbearx]

bird

word count: 1.6k

Can’t Sleep: [4] … [6]

Not too long later, Gaius Grieves revealed himself. Your little trio watched as Robert discreetly put a gun to his back and started talking. You weren't close enough to decipher what he said. Once he started moving your team got the cue to follow. However, everyone stopped in their tracks once soldiers were spotted.

"I thought Milton was supposed to be our lookout," you muttered as the soldiers started speaking Spanish to the patrons in the club.

As the soldiers got more aggressive in their search for Americans, Robert turned to Cleo.

"All right," Robert motioned to Grieves. "Take him out through the back, all right? Find my coordinates in the pad and meet me in half an hour," he ordered while handing Abner a gun.

"What?"

"Hey, did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, but-"

"Go."

Cleo hesitated before grabbing Grieves.

"Let's go."

As you were leading your small group to the back entrance, you heard Robert yell out, "Hey, calm down! There's no need to disturb everyone's night."

You could faintly hear Flag speak up as you found a door marked Solo Empleados.

"This way."

Unfortunately the door you opened was the dressing room for the dancers. You heard Abner say, "Oh, God," before a stumbling sound and a gun being handled. You briefly looked back to see Abner holding Grieves at gun pointing and ordering him to "Move it!"

Damn. That was a little hot.

Pushing your way through the dancers and out the door, you let out a small gasp at the soldier standing in front of you. Cleo, ever the quick thinker, used her device to have a rat crawl down his throat.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side."

You eventually made your way outside in an alley. Milton jogged over once he caught sight of you four.

"Your equipment manipulates animal behavior, clever," Grieves spoke out. "I'm working on something similar with humans."

"Be quiet, please."

"You are perceivably panicked. I'm guessing that you are not the alphas of this battalion."

"Do you want a dozen angry rodents crawling up your ass?" Cleo snapped.

"My answer might not be what you expect."

"Disgusting," you commented as Abner ushered Grieves to move.

You quickly made your way into the van. Milton took the driver's seat, Abner sat in the middle across from Grieves who still had a gun pointed at him, and you and Cleo took a seat in the back by Nanaue.

"Hello, friends!"

"Hi, yes, hello to you too, Nanaue," you said before pointing at Grieves. "Nom nom this man if I give the word."

"Okay!"

Cleo rummaged through DuBois bag before handing you the coordinate pad he spoke of earlier. Was that a picture of his daughter you saw? You couldn't get a good look since Cleo zipped up the bag. Coordinates in hand, you made your way back up the front to give Milton directions.

"Oh ho ho, what's this?" Grieves smuggly declared. You were too busy paying attention to the road to hear him.

"What's what?"

"I saw that little look you gave to your teammate."

"There was no look," Abner denied.

"Ah, but there was. How are you going to pretend you weren't just looking at their ass as they passed? You seem to have a school boy crush."

"Abner has a crush?" Cleo entered the conversation.

"No!"

Grieves laughed before answering Cleo. "You seem to have forgotten that I study people for a living, and I am very good at my job."

"Pet pet and Polky?" Nanaue piped up from the back.

"No! No Pet pet and Polky," Abner said with exasperation. However, upon looking at you and seeing how captivating you looked under the flashing lights of the street lamps, he followed it up with defeated, "Okay, maybe Pet pet and Polky."

"Dios mío!" Cleo exclaimed before she was hurriedly shushed. They both looked over to see if you heard.

"Okay, now take a right onto this street."

You did not.

"I'm happy for you, Abner."

"You seem to have forgotten you are on a mission. This isn't some little girl's slumber party."

Cleo slapped Grieves over the back of the head as Abner seemed to remember that he had a gun in his hand.

"Be quiet."

"Is- is that them?"

The team all looked at you as they looked out the window. Following your gaze, it landed on an upside down armored vehicle in a ditch.

"Of course it is, who else would be dumb enough," you sighed.

Milton slowly approached the area and parked the van. As soon as it stopped you jumped out to see if they were still there. Turns out you didn't have to wait long; the back door unlocked to reveal your three teammates scuffed but otherwise unharmed.

You wouldn't admit it but you felt relieved.

"All right," Robert grunted. "Let's go to Jotunheim."

"Nope. There's somethin' we gotta take care of first."

"What?"

Rick sighed out, "As much as it pains me to say, we gotta get Harley Quinn."

"Harley who?"

"Quinn. She was on Team 1 with me. Now that I know where she is, we gotta go get her."

"Fuck no."

"Come on, man." They made their way back into the van after you. "She's a valuable asset."

"I said no."

"Don't make me get Waller into this."

Robert thought for a moment. "Fuck, fine, alright. We'll go get 'er."

Everyone eventually got seated. This time you actually sat in a seat since you weren't planning on taking an impromptu nap—although that did sound nice. Flag filled Milton out on the details and directed him on where to go as you all got cozy. Robert and Chris were going at it again, Cleo was asleep, Nanaue was trying to get you to sit in his lap, and Abner was watching in amusement.

"No."

"Yes."

"I said no."

"Pet pet?"

"No, Nanaue."

Nanaue put on his best pout, "Please?"

You should not have turned around to look at him. Sighing, you stood up and made your way over to him.

"Hahaha!" He sounded like a giddy kid in a candy store. He gently picked you up and placed you on his lap. Immediately he started petting you again and hummed. Your legs were cramped and you felt like you were about to fall off his lap. Without saying anything, you sprawled your legs across Abner's lap. He just looked at you with a smile before adjusting himself to accommodate you. Resting his arms over your legs, he continued looking out the window.

"How fascinating."

"Hmm?" You looked at Grieves.

"You don't happen to also control animal behavior, do you?"

"Why would I tell you that?"

"Fair."

You heard a loud sigh from Chris. "Is this going to become a regular occurance?"

"What, you jealous? I'm calling it now, if we have another night during this mission I'm using him as my cuddle buddy."

"Whatever."

Although you said you wouldn't, you were almost asleep before Robert made the call for everyone to gear up. While everyone was rushing to get their gear on, you just yawned and leaned over to handcuff Grieves to a seat before making yourself at home on Nanaue again. You weren't exactly trained to fight with weapons, although you did grab a nearby combat knife to carry.

"You gotta be kiddin' me. You're gonna risk the entire mission for a mental defective dressed as a court jester."

"This is coming from a guy that wears a toilet seat on his head."

"We don't leave our own behind," Rick reminded.

"You're okay with this?"

"No, but I've been around Flag when he's got a rag in his mouth. Best not to tug it."

"Motherfucker!"

Just as everyone seemed almost ready, you hopped off Nanaue and gently nudged Cleo.

"Come on, gotta wake up."

"All right, let's go."

Everyone—besides Grieves—exited the vehicle before Flag announced his plan.

"All right, we'll enter through the third floor, go to the inner staircase, and then down to the cellar where they usually keep their detainees. Hopefully, Harley's still alive."

Still butthurt about what Robert said, Chris stubbornly muttered, "It's not a toilet seat, it's a beacon of freedom!"

Everyone got into position; Peacemaker somehow scaled a building to get a vantage point, Abner was down the street looking for traffic, Rick and Robert were beside one of the walls ready to climb to the third floor, you turned into a bird (much to the amazement of your team) so you could quickly enter the window Robert would open, and Nanaue—who forgot you turned into a bird—stared at you.

"Ratatouille, what do you got?"

"Third floor hallway's clear. Abner?"

"There doesn't seem to be any incoming traffic."

"Bird."

"Nanaue, that's Mimic you meathead- and stay off the comm!"

"Colonel, I got a clean shot on the only one in the office. Just give the word."

"Fire on three, two..."

"What're you guys doing?"

Rick looked at Harley, then DuBois, then back to Harley. "I... you- we're here to save you."

"You were gonna... save me?" Harley visibly looked touched.

"It was a really good plan, too."

"Well I can go back inside and you can still do it."

"That's patronizing," Bloodsport commented.

You saw Harley drag a big stick thing over to Flag and hug him.

"Uh, what's with the javelin?"

"I'm waiting for God to tell me."

"Jesus Christ..."

"Yeah, or Him. Or any of them, really."

You and Nanaue watched as Harley and Bloodsport had an awkward introduction.

"Never mind everyone, Harley is secure."

"What?"

"Meet me in the van so we can leave as quickly as possible."

Sighing, you morphed back into your original form. Nanaue made an audible gasp as he saw you sitting on the railing.

"Pet pet?

"Yes, Nanaue, it's me, Pet pet."

King Shark laughed as he started petting you immediately. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you swatted his hand away and motioned for him to follow you.

[stwritings]

ST4 Spoilers/Theory

Below the cut

Okay so this is 50/50 fueled by delusions and hope, but hear me out!!!!

So, the government is dead set on keeping everything regarding the upside down on the low, going as far as falsifying the death of Barb and Billy and.....Hopper!!

As far as everyone in Hawkins is concerned, Hop died at the Starcourt mall. Despite the upside down now being apart of the real world, (which the government will probably still try to make some bs up about it being global warming or something lmao), i highly doubt they would permit Hop to go back into society given that he was pronounced dead. They would have to do so much damage control and somehow explain away him being imprisoned by Russians for the last year.

SO!!!! What if..... Hop has to stay in hiding, in the cabin they were all renovating at the end of Season 4, and Eddie is staying there with him since he's a wanted man!!!!!?????

This would explain why we were robbed of seeing the gang's reaction to his "death" and why everyone seemingly got over it so quickly. Even Dustin seemed fine until he spoke with Uncle Wayne, which could be due to him feeling bad about Wayne incessantly searching for his nephew. Dustin would feel awful knowing that Eddie is alive and well and that his Uncle is completely broken by his assumed death.

Although the Kas theory would be cool, I don't know that the Duffer Brother's would go that route as it might be too literal to the DND campaign. The initial plan of having Eddie die may be altered due to the incredibly positive fan response to his character and this would be one hell of a good way to fix the damage they caused in the Season 4 finale.

Even if they don't go this route, i still can't help but feel that there are far too many coincidences and parallels Eddie's death with Will and Hopper's for him not to come back somehow.

For example;

-When it's Cold I'd like to Die playing during Eddie and Will's death scenes. ??????????? Throughout the entire series, there has never been a song that has been repeated in the soundtrack on separate occasions, especially not during meaningful scenes like this. They repeat songs for a purpose; (i.e., Running up that Hill, Should I Stay or Should i Go)

-When we were led to believe that Hop died, the episode also transitioned with a "3 weeks later" text, LIKE EDDIE'S DEATH SCENE.

-Literally every character that has died has gotten some sort of funeral or angsty closure, Eddie's is the only one that was half-assed. (Perhaps due to the finale already being 2 hours long, but still!!! If he really is dead i hope we get more of a tribute to him in the premier of Season 5) (Instead we got a 10-minute bs dialogue between Johnathan & Nancy >.>)

-Johnathan and Wayne are wearing almost identical jackets while putting up missing posters for their loved ones.

-I can't pinpoint why this would be significant to him being alive still but something about the missing poster stating that Eddie is 17 doesn't sit right with me, HE REPEATED HIGH SCHOOL THREE TIMES HE WOULD BE AT LEAST 20 BY NOW. (It could be lazy writing since they forgot Will's bday but still.....Seems odd. Ain't no way in hell Wayne would get that wrong, he loves that boy so much, he gave Eddie the only bedroom in his trailer and sleeps on a cot for Christ's sake!!!!!!!!!)

Anyways- rant over.

[jackrrabbit]

it will come back [pt. 1] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 2] [Part 3]

A/N: Low budget yandere for my greasy king. This concept has definitely been done before, but I couldn’t resist. This is my first non-smut on this acct and I’ll be so sad if it bombs 😭

Title from the Hozier song: “don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: light yandere, minor injury, angst, Shiggy likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep. [In later parts but not in this one: violence, sex, more yandere, 18+]

You’ve always had a soft spot for strays. Maybe that’s why you became an ER nurse—from the first abandoned puppy you brought home as a kid to the patients you refuse to give up on even when it looks hopeless, you’ve never been able to turn a blind eye when something needs your help. Sometimes (times like this) you wish you knew better. It’s hard enough to take care of yourself these days.

Today’s shift was…what, 16 hours? 17? The 20-minute walk from the bus stop to your apartment building feels like it takes twice that long in the rain. God, you need a shower. And a decent night’s sleep, preferably for at least 12 hours. Tomorrow’s your day off, and you’re ready to take advantage of it the best way you know how: Netflix, soju, and your favorite vibrator. But tonight? As soon as you’re clean, you’re going to pig out on leftovers and collapse into the bed that’s the only halfway nice piece of furniture in your shithole apartment. You really do deserve a break; you’ve earned it.

Unfortunately, as usual, the universe has other plans.

You hear him before you see him: wheezing, choked breaths, like someone’s trying to breathe with an anvil on their chest. You’re not quite out of nurse mode so your mind starts trying to diagnose the issue before you even register what you’re hearing. Fluid in the lungs, possibly blood. That hacking isn’t good. Broken ribs? Definitely bruised. But probably not a puncture…

The breathing is coming from down an alley next to your building. It’s dark enough that you can’t see from the street what’s making the noise. And you’re not a fool, you know it’s a bad idea to walk down pitch-black alleys late at night, especially in this area—a neighborhood you’re living in by necessity, because it’s the only place cheap enough for you to get by. But the coughing…it just sounds so awful. It sounds like it hurts.

Your phone’s already in your hand with 119 dialed and ready to call (standard practice when you’re walking home by yourself), but you turn the flashlight on and shine it down the alleyway. “Hello? Anyone there?”

Nothing responds, but you can still hear the breathing. You step in a little deeper, swinging your light from side to side and looking over the heaps of trash bags overflowing from the dumpster. The raindrops make clicking sounds as they hit the plastic, and you can hear gurgling from a rain spout down the side of the building, but the wheezing doesn’t stop.

One more step. And then one more. You wish there was something you could do to make the splash of your rain boots in the puddles a little less loud. Something about this situation—the rain, the dark, the flat grey light from your cellphone, and that horrible hacking breath—it makes you feel like you’re walking into a horror movie. But you don’t stop walking.

The hacking is coming from a man propped up on the wall between a few XL bags of trash. The black outfit he’s wearing almost blends into the bags, but a mop of grey-blue hair gives him away. His head is slumped onto his chest, and if he’s conscious he doesn’t show it. “Hello?” you ask again, even less confident that you’re going to get a response.

No answer.

The smell of garbage is…ugh…hard to ignore, but on top of it is an oppressive stench of copper coming from the man passed out in the trash. You kneel down to get a better look and yep, he’s covered in blood. It’s hard to make out in the low light, but there’s a trio of long gashes in the man’s abdomen, cutting apart the skin and flesh so deep you can see traces of a slim layer of yellow fat between all the inky clotted blood. It looks like he was attacked by an animal. Or someone with an animal quirk. There are a lot of villains in this neighborhood.

And the coughing...definitely internal injuries. Whoever this guy is, he needs treatment. You hold up your phone to hit the call button on your pre-dialed 119—

“Don’t.” The voice is a growl, low and surprisingly firm despite the scratchiness. You jerk back and clutch your phone to your chest, caught off guard not just by the interruption but by the intensity of the face glaring up at yours.

His eyes are red. “You need an ambulance,” you tell him in your calmest nurse voice.

“If you try to call the police, I’ll—kill you,” the man says, but the threat is a little less threatening when he has to stop in the middle to retch blood onto his own chin.

You glare back at him but don’t call the emergency number. There are a lot of of reasons why he wouldn’t want to go to the hospital, but the most obvious one is probably true. “You’re a criminal. A villain?”

He doesn’t respond, choosing instead to keep glaring at you like you’ve committed some mortal sin against his ancestors by having the nerve to check on him and try to help him. Somehow it pisses you off. When you were getting your ADN, you once took a temp job doing health screenings at a local middle school and you would always get so annoyed at the kids. Didn’t they see you were just doing your job? Why is it so hard to understand that what you’re doing is for their own good?

Stupid kids. Stupid villain. “You’d rather bleed out and die?”

The man bares his teeth at you, and it’s a pretty disturbing scene considering how they’re covered in scarlet. “You think they’re going to save me? Think I’ll go to the hospital and get all my HP restored?”

He’s mocking you now. You only have a second to move out of the way before he spits off to the side. “I mean…that’s how a hospital works.”

“If you think I would—make it out of that ambulance alive, you’re—dumber than you look.” His voice is interspersed with coughs.

“Well, you’re not going to live if I leave you here.” You hold up your phone, ready to call the ambulance, but in a shocking display of agility the man lunges forward and grabs it out of your hand. “Hey, wait! Give that…back…”

Your voice trails off as your phone crumbles—literally crumbles to dust in the man’s fingers. Once he’s satisfied that there’s no way for you to call the cops, he slumps back onto the trash bags and closes his eyes, apparently exhausted from the effort.

Goddamnit…! For a second, you can only stare blankly at the pile of dust that used to be your $300 smartphone. And then you’re seized by something, maybe not hatred but an annoyance so strong you can feel it in your throat, and you decide right then and there that this villain is not going to die. You’re going to save him. Out of spite.

You’re not sure how you manage to half-carry him from the alley to your apartment, but you do. You’re lucky it’s ass-o-clock at night and no one’s in the lobby or the elevator, or you’d definitely be getting some looks trying to lug a maimed body around. What would you say if someone did call the cops? Don’t worry, don’t worry about it officer, it’s just my friend drank a little too much, oh those wounds? We were at a costume party, haha…

But no one sees you, and no one calls the cops. The man is unconscious the whole time you’re carrying him, and by the time you have him laid out on a shower curtain on your living room floor his breathing is a little bit shallower than it was before. You’ve got your tools—nothing fancy, just some gauze and closures and antiseptic from your personal first aid kit. It’s not much, but it’ll have to be enough.

“Let’s get to work, asshole,” you tell the unconscious body in front of you, and you crack your knuckles.

///

The day after you pick the villain out of the garbage, your body decides that it’s not going to let you sleep in no matter how much you need it. You can tell because the huge windows in your bedroom—the only saving grace of this apartment, honestly—are depositing golden-pink sunrise light over everything you see when you open your eyes, including the villain’s face. Which is about six inches away from yours.

“You smell like death,” you tell him sleepily. He doesn’t move.

He’s…probably in his early twenties, you think, but it’s hard to tell because of all the wrinkles. His hair is on the longer side, and it’s striped with rusty brown smears from his blood. Again, you notice how red his irises are. Have you ever seen someone with eyes that color before? You’re pretty sure you haven’t.

“You slept for a long time,” the villain says, finally moving back so he’s not breathing into your mouth.

“Yeah, I was tired. From saving your life.” You sit up and rub your temples. “I’m thirsty…”

Before you can finish your complaint, the villain is holding a glass of water out to you in an awkward 4-fingered grip.

“Um, thanks, I guess.” You suck down the water and immediately feel better, enough that you realize how wrong it is that he’s up and moving around and probably undoing all your hard work. “You should be lying down.”

“The floor hurt, and I was bored.”

“Lie on the couch then. You can watch TV. But first—“ He’s sitting on the edge of your bed next to you, and you make him lie down flat so you can look at the injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as they looked last night—no walk in the park, but at least you won’t have a corpse in your apartment in a few hours.

When you’re done inspecting him, he sits up and asks you for a shirt. You had to cut his off, not that it was any great loss. The thing was shredded. Him pointing it out is the only thing that makes you really realize he’s shirtless, so you give him an oversized pajama shirt of yours. It has the name and motto of your old high school on it, and the villain reads it out in a half-mocking tone when you hand it to him.

“Beggars shouldn’t be choosers,” you snap. “You should be grateful.”

“I am grateful,” he says, putting the shirt on. “But I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you need a shirt, right? It’s cold—“

“No. Not that.” He’s staring at you again, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact. “Why you didn’t leave me where you found me last night.”

There’s a lot you could tell him, all of it a little bit true. You were curious. You believed him when he said he wouldn’t make it out of the hospital alive. You couldn’t leave him alone the same way you can’t leave abandoned puppies alone. You wanted to prove to him that you were right, and that being stubborn wouldn’t get him what he wanted. But you don’t say that. “You killed my phone, so you owe me a new one. And I can’t get that back if you bleed out.”

He’s looking at you like he doesn’t believe you, and you fidget under his gaze until he sighs and says, “Whatever.”

You have to let him lean on your shoulder when he walks back to the living room to lie down on your couch. How the hell did he even get to your bedroom by himself? You really didn’t think this through—what are you supposed to do with an infirm possible villain who can barely walk unsupported without opening his injuries back up?

But that’s a problem for tomorrow you to deal with. Today, you’re content to set your laptop up on the coffee table so the two of you can watch TV in…oddly companionable (if you’re not imagining it) silence. It’s almost the lazy day off you were daydreaming about before you got yourself into this mess, and the atmosphere is so relaxed that before you can really decide whether to force the man to go to the hospital or turn him out on the street (or…?) you’re dozing off on your couch like there isn’t a potentially dangerous stranger lying beside you with his head just a few inches from your lap.

When you wake up, your problem is solved for you. He’s gone, and it’s like he was never there—except you’re down a cellphone and a pajama shirt, and your shower curtain is drenched with blood. You wrap it up with the rest of the soiled medical supplies and toss all of it in a dumpster a mile away from your building without knowing exactly why.

///

It’s not the last you see of him, but somehow you had a feeling that was going to be the case.

He scares the shit out of you the first time he visits (over time, that’s how you’ll start to think of his little unannounced drop-ins: visits. Like you’re being visited by a ghost or something). You’re coming back from another grueling shift in the ER, so tired you think you might be sleepwalking, and what do you find when you come in your apartment but a strange white-haired man sitting on your couch eating dry cereal out of the box and flipping through one of your books?

You nearly piss yourself.

He doesn’t seem surprised, which makes sense, considering he’s a villain and he’s probably used to pulling this dramatic entrance thing on people. He certainly doesn’t seem the least bit threatened when you brandish the mini canister of pepper spray on your keychain and demand that he tell you how he got in if he wants to retain the power of eyesight.

“It was unlocked,” he says.

“It was not unlocked,” you reply, rolling your eyes. You may be sleep deprived, but you’re not careless. Never careless.

“Whatever. Calm down. You’re not going to use that on me.”

He’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. If he wanted to do something to hurt you, he could’ve done it that first night. And you’re too tired to really put up a fight, so you just put the cap back on the pepper spray and flop down next to him on the couch. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He looks at you curiously from between his shaggy bangs, like you’re the one intruding in his home and not the other way around, then reaches out to hand something to you. “Here, payback.”

It’s a cell phone—not a smartphone like the one he destroyed, but a flip phone circa the 2000s, the kind that forces you to press “9” four times to get the letter “F”. You stare at it for a second, then look back at the villain. “Are you kidding? Did you get this from a museum?”

“Take it or leave it.” His feet are propped up on your coffee table, but you can’t make yourself care. Actually, it looks nice…him stretched out with an odd look of comfort on his lanky form.

You lean back on the couch and kick up your feet next to his. “Fine. Thanks, I guess.”

He shrugs.

“How are your wounds healing?” Why are you trying to make conversation with this guy? He’s…a villain, right? Not that you’ve ever received affirmative confirmation of that fact, but the hesitance to call the police and the breaking and entering are pretty good tells. But…it might be weird, but since you picked him up that day, you’ve felt a kind of kinship with him.

Alone. Abandoned. No place to go. No one to save him. It’s not a pretty comparison, but you can’t deny it rings true.

Maybe that’s why you pick up strays.

“They’re fine,” he tells you after so long a pause that you’ve almost forgotten your question. “Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

You take a long look at him, at his posture—he’s relaxed, but his abdomen is crunched a little bit, curled in on himself so subtly that even you wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t looking. It’s not your problem. He’s an adult, and you’re sure he could be seeking real medical attention if he really needed it. You’re in no way obligated to perform some kind of checkup on this arrogant dick who literally broke into your apartment to give you a shitty phone and eat your cereal. The sensible thing to do is to tell him to forget that you live here and hopefully never see him again.

His head tips back to rest on the top of the couch, and he holds your book up to read. At this angle his long hair is out of the way of his face, and you notice among the deep-set creases in his skin a pair of wide scars across his right eye and on the corner of his lips. They’re pale and faded—old, then—but they look off to you, and after a while of snatching glances at his face you realize it’s because they’re healed badly, extraordinarily badly, the kind of healing that you don’t see very often because it only occurs when a stubborn patient tries to let a particularly nasty injury heal on its own. The part of you that isn’t sensible wonders how old he was when he got those scars.

Has he learned his lesson?

You doubt it.

“Lie down,” you sigh. “Let me see the cuts.”

Which is how you find yourself examining this annoying villain again, checking on his injuries and giving him recommendations for care like you’re his personal nurse or something. It’s not a role you enjoy playing, but at least he takes it without complaint, and you start to wonder if maybe this is why he broke into your apartment in the first place. If anything, he looks calmer when you’ve flipped up his shirt and prodded at his wounds, his eyes closing slowly and freeing you of that scarlet-red gaze.

He’s like a cat, you think, and then you shake your head and remind yourself that it’s a terrible idea to think of this man—this grown man who is probably a great danger to you and others—as a wild animal you’re trying to domesticate.

When he finally leaves (only after you drop a couple dozen unsubtle hints about how long you’ve been at work and how exhausted you are), you take a moment before you sink into bed to look at the flip phone. It’s no nicer than your original impression, but as you scroll through the screens you notice that it’s factory-new, except for one thing: there’s a contact programmed in, a phone number with an area code you don’t recognize listed under “T”. And you don’t want to be curious…

…but you are. Shocking.

Down the rabbit hole it is, you decide. So you text him.

///

[You: 12:03 AM] > Hey it’s (Y/N) > (the girl whose apartment you broke into) > What does T stand for? [T: 12:07 AM] > What do u think [You: 12:09 AM] > ?? [T: 12:09 AM] > My name > Dont you know who i am [You: 12:10 AM] > Are you famous? [T: 12:10 AM] > You dont watch the news do u [You: 12:11 AM] > Not really > What’s your name then [T: 12:12 AM] > … > Didnt u say u had to sleep [You: 12:15 AM] > Oh yeah > Whatever I guess > Good night

[T: 2:34 AM] > Its Tomura > Dont look it up

[You: 8:02 AM] > Ok > I won’t > Tomura

➠ [Part 2]

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 282: Aizawa Defeeted

Previously on BnHA: Oh my god do we even care about that at this point. Tomura made a speech; Gran Torino died; Deku lost his shit and tried to strangle Tomura to death with his bare hands; Ryuukyuu came back from Wherever She Was and tried to grab Tomura but he punched a hole through her giant hand; and now he’s grabbing his Quirk-Be-Gone bullets and is ready to cause some mayhem okay?? That about sum it up?? Is anyone even reading this?? CAN WE JUST GET ON WITH IT I’VE WAITED AN ENTIRE WEEK.

Today on BnHA: Well I guess let’s start with what doesn’t happen: Bakugou doesn’t lose his quirk. HE LUCKED OUT!!... for now, anyways. Because, thanks to a near-impossible-to-predict series of events (seriously, raise your hands if you had “Aizawa gets shot but goes full World War Z on his own ass” on your bingo card), Tomura has seemingly regained his regeneration powers, which means that his other quirks are probably back online as well! So we’ll see how that all goes. Anyway so in the meantime Shouto’s back, looking very mad that everyone temporarily forgot he was a main character. And Gigantomachia is back as well! Or almost, anyway. Also, you’ll never guess who broke another one of his arms! Go on, guess. But at least he still has the arm, though, which is more than we can say for certain other people’s limbs. Poor Aizawa is literally on his last leg. He and Tomura really got off on the wrong foot. He chopped his leg off, is what I’m saying. It’s that kind of chapter folks.

you guys I’m losing my whole fucking mind. I straight up deleted the tumblr app off my phone for 24 hours so that I wouldn’t be tempted to log in and risk potentially being spoiled. and I’m happy to say that it worked! so here we are now, completely spoiler free, and let me just say that if Horikoshi decides to cut back to Gunga Mountain now, I will either cry for hours or abandon the series forever and go do something more productive with the rest of my quarantine like learning how to play sad songs on the guitar

all right. here goes

so we’re opening with Deku, who is currently comprised of 100% rage and 0% mercy, and is doing that thing where only the whites of his eyes are visible. and basically he’s just thinking “I’VE REALLY GOT TO HOLD ON TO THIS GUY AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T DO ANYTHING ELSE HOMICIDAL.” which is a solid game plan, but perhaps not so easily accomplished

-- oh my god this poor kid is still in denial, I can’t. why are you doing this

is there even still a Gran Torino to tend to at this point? after Tomura bulldozed a hole through his torso, and you went and finished the job with your own fucking attack? sob

but I guess the law of Tragic Shounen Mentor Deaths mandates that Gran’s should be at least as drawn-out as Nighteye’s was, though. so he’s probably only Mostly Dead, which is still Slightly Alive if I remember my Princess Bride correctly, and I think I do

so now the rest of these stooges are finally catching up with us here

yes, my friends. a bullet. WELCOME TO MY LIFE FOR THE PAST FUCKING WEEK. anyways I have a LOT of pent-up energy here just fyi. there may be a lot of unnecessary screaming in this recap

FUCKING WYOMING SMASH Y’ALLSSSS

I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT JUST HAPPENED SOB. DID HE JUST HAMMER FIST TOMURA’S HEAD INTO THE GROUND. DID HE SNAP HIS FUCKING NECK AT 100%. IN AN IDEAL WORLD HE WOULD HAVE JUST CHOPPED TOMURA’S ARMS OFF WHILE SOMEHOW MANAGING TO AVOID BREAKING ANY OF HIS OWN BONES IN THE PROCESS, BUT I HAVE A FEELING THIS SITUATION WILL NOT BE RESOLVED IN ANY KIND OF MANNER ONE WOULD CONSIDER “IDEAL”

(ETA: fun fact: this attack did absolutely nothing except make things approximately 100x worse. but you tried Deku. you tried.)

THE FUCK KIND OF PORTENTOUS BULLSHITTING TITLE IS THIS. OH MY GOD, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT EMOTION I’M HAVING RIGHT NOW, IT’S JUST A LOT OF LOUD THOUGHTS

anyway so if you’re just joining us, Tomura just pulled two bullets out of his pocket, the good guys finally noticed, and then Deku did a smash and everything exploded. the radius of this attack actually looks wide enough to have potentially involved Aizawa, who probably does NOT want to get any debris in his eyes right now, and also Gran, who probably doesn’t particularly want to be hit by another deadly attack for the third time in the past ninety seconds. anyway so I guess what I’m trying to say here is WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THAT YOU LITTLE GREEN LUNATIC

AHHHHHH

he got the one!! the one that was in Tomura’s right hand!! but what about the one in his left ahhhhhhh

(ETA: lmao at Kacchan being the one to blow up the same bullet I was so sure he was going to be shot with. saw the writing on the wall, huh kid? what do we say to the god of foreshadowing?? ‘NOT TODAY.’ ...except that we’re still not actually out of the woods yet so you still better watch yourself lol.)

...

based on the font here, these are Tomura’s thoughts. which he is thinking immediately after getting the lower half of his jaw very painfully cronched by the VERY homicidal sixteen-year-old still clinging to him. anyway so Tomura’s thought processes are as inscrutable to me as ever lulz

and Deku’s arm looks broken again, yaaaaay. but at least it’s his left arm and not his right! so that’s nice. now they can match

[SHRIEKS]

HE YEETED IT. IT HAS BEEN YEETEDED. HE DID A YEET. [sobbing] he DiD a YeEt oH my GOD

DID IT HIT SOMETHING!?!?!?

my reading process here is as follows: 1) scroll down exactly one panel. 2) scream even though absolutely nothing has happened yet. 3) WRITE THAT DOWN 4) REPEAT

DKSFJLKHSDLGKHLI

DID IT HIT HIM!?!? DID IT GET HIM IN THE LEG SOB ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS. JUST LIKE THAT?? BOOM GUN BULLET LEG!!?

YOU GUYS IT REALLY HIT AIZAWA AND NO ONE DID A GODDAMN THING?? it wasn’t even drawn out or anything??? it just HAPPENED, within like four pages??? NO SLOW MO?? NOT EVEN A REACTION PANEL WHAT THE FUCK

son of a bitch I would so dearly like to grab Manual and RockLockRock’s heads right now and just conk them together real hard. YOU STUPID FUCKS sob YOU HAD ONE JOB!!! IT REALLY WAS JUST ONE!! AND YOU WERE SHARING IT!! SO IT’S MORE LIKE HALF A JOB!! AND YOU STILL COCKED IT UP IN ABSOLUTELY NO TIME AT ALL OH MY GOD

(ETA: they should blow this panel up and make it into a t-shirt and make Manual and RLR wear the shirts every day for the rest of their lives. half a job, you guys. please go away I cannot even look at you right now.)

FUCK MY EVERYTHING

(ETA: I still can’t figure out if this horrific angle is due to the earlier damage from the Noumu, or if Tomura really just flung the bullet THAT hard. honestly I’m surprised it didn’t just slice right through him with that kind of velocity. “no thanks because then I wouldn’t get to write a scene where he chops his own leg off” oh okay well when you put it that way, Horikoshi.)

if I recall correctly this is the leg that he said was “twisted”, no? yeesh. might just want to chop it off real quick, then. s’not like it’s doing you any more good. does anyone know if zombie rules apply or not with this sort of thing?? shit

?!?!

“THANKS”?? okay what. did it hit him or not??

-- oh my god WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT

I WAS -- I WAS JOKING I -- FFFFFFFFKJK

jesus fucking christ. when I said “might just want to chop it off real quick” literally FOUR PARAGRAPHS AGO, I can tell you that the one thing I did NOT expect was for Aizawa to be all, “you know what, that’s a good idea”, and then YOINK OUT HIS TRUSTY HERO SHANK AND GO FULL 127 HOURS ON THIS BITCH. "LALALA WE’RE GONNA DO IT RATIONALLY TEEHEE” like excuse me, the fuck

anyways. I don’t even know what to say. thank you Aizawa’s leg for your sacrifice, and for always supporting him. literally. oh my god I came here ready for my son to enter a new phase of character development, and for the manga as a whole to enter a new phase of glorious, glorious angst. no one told me I’d be sitting here making puns instead. what a fine, confusing day

anyway though let’s just fucking hope it worked. and side note, if Aizawa Shouta really did chop off his own fucking leg just now and somehow STILL managed not to fucking blink, I think we might as well just go ahead and hand him the Biggest Badass In The Series award right now because no one is ever going to top that. nope. not happening

it is truly a testament to Shigaraki Tomura’s unfathomably mysterious sexy villain energy that he still somehow manages to look hot with only half a face

also no one in this manga actually feels pain, do they. not Deku, not Aizawa, not Tomura, no one. no wonder none of them have any self-preservation instincts to speak of

um

did someone just randomly explode just now. at this point it might as well happen, right

oh it’s the shockwave from Deku’s Wyoming attack, apparently. how nice of it to have a delayed reaction for absolutely no reason

anyway so Deku’s being flung back, but he’s grabbing onto Tomura again with Blackwhip. but oh shit you guys, if Tomura escapes Deku and Ryuukyuu’s clutches and still has any bullets left in his pocket, we may still be able to salvage this Bakugou quirk situation after all. would be nice to be able to actually do something with all of these “happy quirk losing day” balloons that I ordered

(ETA: actually, believe it or not I honestly like this better. Tomura using AFO was always the more dramatic option anyway. and now that we’ve done the bullet thing everyone has presumably let their guard down again, which, good.)

I love how Tomura apparently hasn’t noticed that Aizawa’s just amputated his own leg? to be fair he’s probably distracted by all the explosions and such

also gotta love how Deku’s arm-breaking attack seemingly just made everything worse for no reason. and also how Manual and RockLockRock are once again just standing there doing absolutely nothing

SO NOW GUESS WHAT’S HAPPENING

I MEAN IT! GUESS. BECAUSE YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE LOL

OH WELL OKAY THEN

just like we all saw coming!! ...

so is this Endeavor’s attack?? Bakugou’s?? either way, hot damn. fortunately for Tomura he is apparently operating under the same guidelines as the U.S. Federal Reserve, in which mutilated bills may still be exchanged at face value if more than 50% of a note identifiable as United States currency is present. basically as long as roughly half of him is still vaguely Tomura-shaped I assume he’ll be fine

(ETA: in hindsight I should have immediately been able to identify this as a Shouto attack based solely on how murdery it was lol.)

OH MY GODDDD

KRANCH?!?

OH MY GOD LOL WHAT. LOL. REMEMBER EVERYONE’S THEORIES FROM LIKE TWENTY YEARS AGO LOL. SHOUTO WHAT THE FUCK. DID YOU STOP FOR DRIVE THRU

AND MEANWHILE DEKU’S BACK ON THE SCENE GIVING ARGUABLY EVEN LESS FUCKS THAN BEFORE, IF SUCH A THING IS EVEN POSSIBLE. SO FAR THIS CHAPTER HAS PRECISELY ZERO THINGS THAT I ACTUALLY EXPECTED IN IT, WHICH IS VERY IMPRESSIVE

IT ALSO HAS A LOT OF SMASHING

a LOT. of smashing, guys. feels like... 60% smashing, 20% severed legs, 20% Kranch

-- oh no oh SHIT oh shit oh shit

(ETA: um so I really can’t tell how far that wound extends and whether or not Aizawa still has his right eye, shit.)

first of all how did Deku get here next to Aizawa when he was just over there with Tomura, what. and second, I think Aizawa just blinked, oh shit. probably on the verge of passing out after CHOPPING HIS OWN LEG OFF which STILL hasn’t been acknowledged yet?? did I just completely misinterpret all of that back there or what

(ETA: there was seriously so little attention called to this that I scrolled back up to confirm it probably like half a dozen times. apparently Horikoshi thinks that THE MOST BADASS THING TO EVER HAPPEN IN THE MANGA should be completely downplayed. whereas if it were me, there’d be an entire two page spread of JUST THE LEG. WITH MUSIC PLAYING. EVEN THOUGH IT’S A MANGA.)

YEPPPPPPP. fuck

look at him though. he’s so happy. this is why I can’t stay mad at you no matter how deranged you get you little maniac

so is quirk-stealing back on the menu then or what. don’t think I’ve been lulled into any kind of false sense of security by any of this lol

-- ARE WE SERIOUSLY CUTTING AWAY

so Todoroki really went after them ALONE. the better to put his dad right back up at the top of the Lose Your Quirk Sweepstakes finalists. well... second-to-top, maybe. like I said I will not be lulled

yuh-oh

why do I feel like the odds of Gigantomachia arriving to herald the end of this chapter just shot up DRAMATICALLY

so the next page is almost entirely just a list of cities that the news anchor is telling people to evacuate because they’re in Machia’s path. along with a bunch of dead heroes lying around everywhere, and Ochako being all ominous

(: weren’t they, though? heh. this is going to be so, so bad (: (: (:

-- fuuuuuuuuuuu

aaaaaand that’s it. hahahaha. okay then let’s summarize

Bakugou defied all expectations and kept his quirk (FOR NOW)!

Aizawa cut his own fucking leg off and it WASN’T EVEN REMOTELY ACKNOWLEDGED FOR REASONS I CAN’T UNDERSTAND (R.I.P. AIZAWA’S PRECIOUS LEG. YOU ALWAYS PUT YOUR BEST FOOT FORWARD)

Kranch showed up after 157 years and is probably wondering why the heck I keep calling him “Kranch” now. THINGS CHANGE WHEN YOU’RE MIA FOR A WHILE MY LITTLE STARBUCKS CHRISTMAS CUP

Deku broke his arm for the 78th time

Tomura regenerated but seems to think Aizawa’s quirk is actually gone for good, which I’m pretty sure it’s not. so if they can keep him from destroying everything long enough for Aizawa to turn it back on again, we might possibly still survive this

and lastly, Machia is about to kill all of these stupid people frolicking around outside of this fitness club who are probably so proud of themselves for not being glued to their phones 24/7 because they prefer to LIVE LIFE IN THE MOMENT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. well that’s on you my friends. at least it’ll be a quick death. ffff