#just helping you out so you can at least kind of have a choice for the 10 pulls!!

[sevs-corner]

Tf 141: Mafia AU!

Chapter 4: Its Happy Hour for them, Not for you

A/N: Link to masterlist is here ! And under is the prev chapter epilogue~

Preface:

Finally at a place where you can bunker down, you'd think that sleep would come easy-- but nope, that also seems to evade your grasps.

A life away from trouble seems to do the same, when you find yourself regretting again the choices you've made under the pretense that the old man was a poor ol' guy looking out for his kids, and you happened to be the most convenient person to help them out.

In actuality, you wonder if its vice-versa, when you see them helping you more than you are with them. Especially in the moment of being held at gunpoint, barrel right between your very eyes that went cross looking at it.

'The past two days were a blur. '

You realized this, staring up at the popcorn ceiling, arms spread out and your legs dangling over the edge.

Your life, as you know it, didn't quite make sense-- even after taking a long shower to calm yourself down. Though it was to mostly rid of grime that stuck to your skin and crevices for two days now.

That's besides the point, the more important one being that it kind of seemed like you just signed yourself to some cursed contract. Again.

You weren't surprised by actions anymore, just appalled at how easily you made did them without even a single thought crossing your mind of the future consequences it would bring you.

Balance out the pro's and con's? Nope, didn't do that.

Think before you speak? Nope, didn't quite do much of the former and more of the later.

Decide that getting a job and some food in your stomach was more important than getting involved with people that does crime?

Yes, you at least weighed the most important factor and agree to yourself that it was the priority-- well, at the moment in the least, because hearing that dreaded country twang past your co-worker's apartment door was making you think twice of putting food over your livelihood as a person.

"C'mon sugar! Nonno and Nonna are waiting~!"

If you didn't know this man as a mafioso, you would definitely think he was some rich bastard that tries to act normal by "doing" regular things, even when his palate doesn't get placated by the food that he ate.

Sadly, you do know him and ever regrettably so.

If only he wasn't a mafioso, you would have already threatened him awhile a go and have a go at where-the-sun-don't-shine spot. Alas, you do, and in addition to that, the son of your bosses and part of the contributor to your payroll-- so you'll play nice.

For now.

The raps on the door seems endless, and at this point, it was futile to try and sleep past the mumblings of a dead person (in your head, which you stabbed and kicked multiples as he writhes in the ground.)

"Waiting for who-- for me?" You shout a reply back from all the way the bedroom, quickly putting on a more suitable outfit and combing out the nest that seemed to form on your hair.

"Yes!"

You could hear his eyeroll from him so you quickly shouted a quick, "Ok! Be there in a minute!" before returning to the rest of your morning routine.

"That took more than a minute, shortcake."

The teasing grin Graves gave you as he leaned by your doorway made you sneer, unable to hold back the initial reflexive reaction to both his jab at you and the nickname.

"Well," you huffed, "you kind of just stopped by my place out of nowhere."

Shoving him with your hip, it puts him off balance and reflexively catch himself by the wall. It makes him react with a 'wHoA!" that made you giggle while closing the door to your co-worker's apartment. Turning the knob again to check if its properly locked, you hummed happily when it did because of the state the place was in. It was nothing short of being dilapidated, you only hoped last night- in your tired and sleepy stupor- that no one would go to this corner of the city and check out an abandoned building (as mentioned by Gaz) and ransack your place. This thought, of course, kept you slightly up as well- besides the ever looming issue that you are now tied to the mafia.

Although...looking at the easily frazzled state Graves was in, you wonder if it is that much of a concern you lost sleep over it.

"That's some strong hips you got there, sweets." He pointed out, now fixed up again from his mini-disaster of being caught in surprise. (He swears to himself that he has to watch himself and be on guard with you more often.)

You gave him a grin behind your shoulder, "thank my hula-hoop skills that got me the number one spot in kindergarten."

This gets a bark of laughter from him again, and he just has to curse himself for acting such a fool with you. Yet, at the back of his mind, he doesn't mind it.

"Right," his left-over laughter lingers, "thank God its still transferred after all those years!"

"Hey!" You whipped your head around to glare at him and poke at his chest, "I'm very youthful mind you." You pressed and continued, " especially when compared to you."

You watch him let out an offensive gasp, hand on his chest and the other over his own mouth.

You only managed to maintain the stare down for a couple moments before breaking down in fits of giggles and questions of like, "kindergarten really?" and you replying with, "its was the best thing I could come up with!"

"You better awake now?" He asks, breath finally stable and eyes wiped of all the tears that came out, and you nod in response-- still recuperating yourself.

"It's just so silly," you sigh with a smile, "but yeah, feelin' more up at 'em-- ready to take on the day!"

You threw an enthused fist in the air then turning to give Graves a confident grin of your own, which he returned in kind.

"Good to hear that then," he approaches the car in front of your apartment and opens the passenger car door, "shall we?"

You give him a look that made him rolls his eyes, quickly ushering you in.

"Nonna told me to pick you up," he explains once inside the car as well, "said that they were worried you'd get lost and mugged along the way."

You crossed your arms, denying the claim, "I wouldn't."

"As much as I don't want to say this," Graves begins as he turns out to the street, "but they are right."

You toss him an offended glance, "you think I can't handle myself? I'm an adult-- I've taken care of myself this far."

You hear Graves sigh, waiting for him to reply but only the sound of his fingers tapping on the wheel occupied the air.

"Its..." he bites his lip, ".. its not that I- or we to an extent- think you can't handle yourself."

You nod, letting him continue.

"This city," he clicks his tongue, "its just different from where you came from.”

“I know,” you quickly chipped in, “its nothing new for me.”

You could see how his eyebrows raised on his forehead, but as quickly as it came, it was gone; and instead, substituted with a furrow.

“I’m sure you know all about petty crime,” you hear him grumble and was about to retaliate until his next words stilled you, “but you’ll be seeing scums who wouldn’t even blink at shooting someone who just looked at them wrong.”

The light hearted tone he had posed onto you earlier was gone.

Now, it was cold, devoid of any emotions.

His eyes, previously reflecting the early shine of the light now looked dim, muted. Flat.

‘Ah..’ you think to yourself, ‘so this is who they are.’

You kept your mouth shut after that. Realizing, once again and reality slapping across your face.

These were not silly sons in a make believe found family, under one happy scene at a fun family-run bakery.

These were men--

Men with experience of being involved with the deepest darkest depths of seeing humans at their worst.

Men who are willing to shoot someone without batting an eye.

Men who aren’t opposed to killing those who go against them.

Men who can be brutal but choose not to.

And that to you, seemed scarier than someone who openly did so; because, when you think about it, ‘why were they being nice to you right now?’

"Hey sweets?"

You barely register Graves' voice but unconsciously hums in response.

“Hey,” he pokes again, “look here for a second.”

You didn’t realize but the car already stopped, parked just a block away from the bakery and you see the grip Graves’ had on the wheel. It was trying to hold back— they all were… but, why?

“Up here sweets.”

You finally make eye-contact with him and you see the color back in his eyes, the iris slightly dilated, and the crease on his forehead now furrowed in concern, rather than… irritation? Frustration? A mix of misunderstanding of both you’d presume.

“Did I scare ya’?” He asks softly, smile crooked with the tilt barely convincing you that it was one of being genuine honest with you, but you put that aside— it wasn’t your business to know why he did so.

You shook your head, “just…” you pause, trying to frame your words in a way that showed him that you weren’t afraid— just stunned of the situation you’re in, moreover how much its changed the past week.

“Shock,” you finally answer, “you saying that just made everything clicked.”

“Clicked?” He asks, “what did?”

“My life,” you slump on the reclined chair, eyes now diverting to the sleeves of your jacket and your hands that were fiddling with it. “How everything just came crashing and changing so much in such a short time.”

He nods and you hear him open and close his mouth for a minute before sighing, combing a hand through his now slightly messed hair.

“I get that feeling,” you hear the empathy seeping through his words, “so, my bad for pushing that onto ya’.”

You shook your head, “‘s not your fault.”

“But I triggered it, yeah?”

You see his hand reaching out to you and for a moment, you think again if you should.

Should you be closer to these mafiosos?

Should you be closer to their family?

Should you work their parents at the bakery?

Your actions opposed your thoughts, deciding for you as it tentatively reached halfway before you see Graves connect them himself, intertwining it in such a gentle way that made your thoughts halt for a moment. His thumb slightly stroking the side of your hand actually made you felt at ease, breathing less intense.

“See,” he chuckles, “you’re affected— now don’t tell me you aren’t.”

You roll your eyes but squeeze his hand in appreciation for his offer of comfort.

“Not saying I wasn’t,” you defended, “just that it isn’t entirely your fault— you damn opened the gates, that’s what you did.”

He laughs again more lightly, and somehow you wanted to see this Graves more than the other a moment ago.

“I did.” He admits, crooked grin more believable now.

“But its fine,” you reassure him by squeezing his hand, “might’ve needed it.”

You mutter lowly, still unsure of the reason why yourself but you don’t blame Graves. Like you admitted, he just opened pandora’s box in your head, it was already there and you were just keeping it. Denying the reality you were in, just because facing it was too much.

“Gotta ask something tumbstone,” you had to ask him why they were taking care of you so well. For fucks sake, you guys just met— its just not connecting!

“What is it?” He hums patiently, squeezing your hand back.

“Why…”

“…’why’ what..?”

“…why.. ugh- you’re gonna think its weird.” You try letting go of his hand but he doesn’t let you, pulling you in closer right to his nose.

His gaze, more hardened than before but you can tell that he’s encouraging you.

“C’mon sugar,” he urges, “I promise I won’t.”

You squint your eyes, your voice- thinking it was coming off confident- was more withheld and vulnerable that Graves knew he had to tread carefully.

“Pinky promise?”

He chuckled and links his free hand’s picky with yours, “well, you got me wrapped around ya’ pinky so a promise it is then.”

Your mouth tilts slightly upward at that.

“I…just wanna know…why- why you guys are so quick look out for someone like me?”

You see his eyes widen but mouth still shut, so you continue— trying to explain yourself.

“Its just,” you fumble trying to tie coherent words together, “I-i’m just figuring why I’m being treated so well?”

He stares at you for a moment before smiling, continuing to rub his thumb on your hand.

“What? You think we can’t be nice to people?”

You shook your head at his insinuation.

“No its not that! Ugh- feelings are so hard to explain—.”

“Then don’t,” he shrugs, “I can wait.”

He finally lets you go and you stare at him, contemplating, trying to ingest the meaning behind his words.

Maybe it was too early for this.

So, you nodded, going for another deep breath.

“Ok,” you sigh, “yeah- i’ll sort out my head first.”

You feel him pat your head, “that’s good.”

You feel your face heat so you looked away, grabbing the door handle to leave the car.

“I’m going then!”

He waves, “see you sometime then.”

You turn back to that, “you’re not coming with?”

He couldn’t help the coo that came out and pinched your cheeks.

“I’ve gotta job to do sweets,” he then subtly pushed you out of his car, “so don’t miss me too much, yeah?”

You huff, seeing yoursef caught slacking by him of all people, so you slammed his door.

“Never in a million years!!!”

You walk away with a middle finger in the air, and you can just hear his cackles echoing down the street.

You see the bakery in a couple of steps, and the lights signaling that it was open is still closed.

The plants, oh dear you should personally add that to the list yourself really, were still wilted as much as you saw it the first time.

The windows, all caked up with uncleaned water droplets, were foggy and unclear— another thing to do on the list.

The trash, the pile never ceased really— another to thing to do on the list.

You decided that you should take your mind off the issue you brought up with Graves for later— now, you gotta earn the money their pooling into you. (Another thing you wanted to ask them about as well.)

“Cara!”

You turn around and smile at the old couple, arms hooked by their elbows and covered head to toe in warm clothing.

And you realize its freezing from the way you were just in some shorts, a shirt, an old flannel over it, and some old sneakers.

No wonder they looked so concerned and rushed over you to wrap a scarf and beanie around you.

“Aren’t you cold, dearie?” Nonno asks, fixing the scarf around your neck. “I can hear your teeth chattering from all the way down the street.”

You chuckle, “just now- I swear I wasn’t a moment ago.”

Nonna clicks her tongue, getting the bakery door open to push you two inside.

“You’re gonna get sick wearin’ that!” She scolds as she sits you down in front of their fireplace that Nonno was trying to start, “don’t you have warmer clothes?”

You shook your head, offering to help Nonno but was forced to sit again by the pointed glare Nonna had you as she stared you down.

“I-uh…” you swear you were already sweltering from the heat of her gaze, “…never thought I needed it, never grew up at a place that became this cold.”

She nods, sighing with a rub to her temples.

"I'll check if the boys have their old warmers around their rooms."

You stand to protest but with a hand raised from Nonna, you clamped up and just thanked her.

Nonno sees this and chuckles, strolling up to you to pat you on the head.

"Don't worry," he reassures, "she's just worried."

This makes you question him, "why though?"

"why, what?"

You place your head in your heads, fingers tangled up in your already messed up hair.

"Why are you all worrying about me so much?"

Even if you couldn't see it at the moment, Nonno smiled sadly at the fact of seeing react to their worries. He wonders what happened to you that made you question the kindness and care people show you. Were you so unused to being exposed to it that you suspect that there's always an underlying intent behind the niceties people show you?

Or were you questioning it because of them being involved with the mafia?

"You think we can't worry like normal people?" He jokes and he sees you perk up in recognition.

"No-!" You were quick to deny and feel frustrated being misunderstood but, you knew you weren't explaining things properly on your end either. "Its... not like that."

"Well, why don't you think about it like this for now." he stands in front of you, making you look up at him finally, and he tuts, rubbing those unshed tears at the corner of your eyes.

"We're just your bosses worrying about our only employee," he pats your cheek, "and we don't want to them to skip work because they got sick."

You bit your lip and take your time processing his words-- yeah you could look at it that way, but wasn't it unnatural to care that much? Or were you just looking into it too much?

'No, remember what Graves said.'

Just... give it time, no need to get to an answer right now. If he can wait for your answer, then you'll wait to figure out one for yourself too. You'll metaphorically hang it at the hanger called the back of your mind and focus on the now.

The now being the list that started from your head to toe.

"Hey Nonna," you hear a hum from the cash register as you stand in front of the pin board, "why is the list as long as me now?"

"Well, new day new list of things to do!"

"Fuck."

'I should've just maybe thought about it a little more.'

The day goes by quickly, faster than you thought as you accomplish one task to the next, barely taking breaks unless it was an offer of food or drinks from Nonno and Nonna.

From tackling onto that trash pile bit by bit to send it off with the guy who's quite disappointed to see you again, cooking dishes with Nonno and serving the tables during lunch rush, cleaning up all the dining areas and the kitchen, washing the glass at the front, clearing out all the dead plants, bake some pastries with Nonna, to serving once again during come merienda time.

"Hey, lovie."

You sigh, seeing the usual four at their regular table but surprisingly in more casual outfits. You don't know why but you smile at how comfy they look compared to their constrained suits you saw them in twice.

"Hi," you greeted tiredly, "how's it going?"

"You look worse for wear."

"Is that you're tagline for me Ghost?"

This gets a round of chuckles from them whereas Ghost huffs, but from the slightly crinkle at the corner of his eyes, you could tell he was smirking from under his mask.

"You really do this time, nest-head." Suds points out and you huff, turning to Grickky.

"I don't look that bad, right?"

He frowns then sends a sympathetic glance, "well..."

"Have you recuperated yet?" Price asks and you nod.

"Just lots of things to work on 'round here."

They all nod sympathetically.

"Thanks for helping them out-- we know how much it can get a lot with them." Price explains, offering a hand and you stare at it.

Mind buffering at how... similarly they acted and you just, did what your instincts told you to do and hold his in yours.

Price stares at you in shock and you did now as well.

It then clicks in your head that he was just talking with his hands.

So you try to retract it but he keeps a firmer grip in yours-- not letting go.

"I-i'm so sorry Price- it's been a long day and I thought you guys do this for comfort and I just assumed---"

"Shh," he hushed you and rubs his other hand on top of both of yours, "breath."

You take a shaky breath in and out.

"Guess that answer's your question boss." Suds chuckles, hands behind his head in a lax position.

"I'm okay."

You say such but none of them are convinced.

"Right," Ghost quips, "and I'm the Queen of England."

You glare at him, "you think you're so funny huh? Mr. I'm-the-clown-of-my-own-circus."

The tables explodes into laughter once more but this time Ghost isn't as amused as you, grin now plastered on yours instead.

"Why don't we bring 'em with us boss?" Gaz asks, once his laughter died out and wiped the invisible tears from his eyes.

"Bring where?" You ask, a bit curious. You turn to look at your tugged hand to Price who subtly pulled your attention to him.

"Just a social club down the street," he explains, "similar to a club but less of the party aspect and more of the drinking, snacking, and chatting part."

"Ya' 'tis not too stimulating and more like chillin' like its a game night," Suds adds on and you nod in understanding as you let out an interesting, "ooh~."

"Maybe it'll help you wind down," Gaz offers up his one cent as well and you nod.

"I think it would." All of them perk up, "but my shift's not over."

"Its over now!"

"Oof-!" You suddenly got hit in the back by a bag which made you stumble and Price catch you so that you wouldn't fall flat on your face. Again.

"Go have fun!" Nonna bids farewell while you look at her all offended, seeing just how easy it is for her to just use you and throw you away with a flick of her hand.

"You're just going to make the list longer!" You complain and try to go back to her and confront her, but the unexpected lift by the armpits from Suds made you all the more hissy.

"Hey!" you try slapping but he laughs and dodges. "you're not even letting me choose if I want to go or not!"

Gaz slides into your peripheral, booping your nose and instantly stopping your struggles like your mind just halted from the metaphorical button that switched it off. (The three are highly amused by discovering this about you but try their best to keep their giggles to a minimum.)

"You already did by saying, "I think so!'" He copies your voice and you just had about half a mind to whack him if Soap didn't haul you over his shoulder, exiting the shop with his other mates while they all said their thanks to Nonno and Nonna.

"I can't believe I'm getting kidnapped by mafiosos," you grumble, "what a time to be alive."

Ghost, who was walking behind with Price, ruffles your hair.

"first time?"

You swore you swacked him so hard that it echoes in the alleway you guys were passing by and the comedic echo of it made the others just crack up and die.

"You're my drinking buddy?" You ask Suds who sat across from the loveseat you were sitting on at the side of the room, where it was a bit secluded from the main hall where there was some games going on at the moment.

Soap shrugs, taking a swig of his drink before replying. "Just happened to see your lonely ass brooding."

You frown, taking a swig of your own beer before gagging at the taste.

He sees your reaction and offers his hand, and this time you don't take it so readily- and Soap connects the dots.

"Your bottle," he chuckles, "if ya' don't like it then let take it out of ya' hands."

"Oh," you embarrassingly handed it to him, "thanks. I kinda like more fruity or spritz-y type-a drinks."

"A zeltzer?" he asks cackles loudly and you snap at him.

"No! Yikes- hate those."

You continue watch him bellow and you notice how his face was more relatively red than usual, and you think that he's less put-up about his walls once the alcohol was in his system.

"Why don't I try and get you something then?" He offers, finally calming down and you cross your arms in suspicion.

"... What's in it for me?"

He shakes his head, an obvious smirk on his face. "A free drink on me of course."

"Hmm," you hum and fake-think about the proposition, "sounds tempting, good sir."

He catches on. "No need to pay a pretty price for a pretty person like ya'."

You both giggle and you just relent, letting him get you one as a surprise.

As he left though, you decided that sitting here made your bowels act up from the two bottles you already had in you. You bought your first one and regretted it so you downed it immediately, not wanting to waste it, so Price- thinking you really liked it and needed another- offered to get you one himself.

You couldn't deny the man when he already slotted another in your hand, and so you did the same thing- downing it like a champ but this time, Gaz catches you right as you finished it, watching the whole spectacle.

Hence, that's how Soap found you in the corner, inebriated with a pleasant buzz but almost puking at the taste of your third one for the night.

And all of that is begging to go out another way.

So, you try your best- with crossed gait- to get the bathroom as fast as possible.

Until you bump into some guy who was blocking the restroom, you thought he was gonna stand aside once he saw you but no-- he just stood there like a wall.

"what the fuck dude," you mutter, holding onto your forehead where you made contact with his hard chest. "can you not block the toilets?"

The man, hidden behind a mask quite similar to Ghost, stared down at me.

"Occupied." This behemoth simply says and this makes you irk.

"Look," you poke at his chest, "I need to go."

He stares down at you before looking at his companion, a mask covering the lower half of his face as well with sunglasses covering his eyes, said partner shook his head.

"No."

"No?" You scoffed, "you think you can control my bowels?!"

The man besides him sighs, "its occupied alright, there's another down the other hallway."

You whip your head at him so fast that he flinched.

"I fucking said," you stalked up to the guy and shouted-- "I NEED TO TAKE A SHIT!"

"what the hell is going on out here?!"

The bathroom door slams open and the two immediately step aside to bow to this man, gruff with whites in his hair. The man was busy fixing his clothes, whereas the girl in his arms was so giddy that she didn't care that her bra was literally slipping off both her shoulders.

You gagged.

"Nothing sir, someone just wanted to use the bathroom--" The tall guys explains but gets cut off the man screeching out orders.

"Then take fucking deal with it quickly!"

"yes sir."

Both of them then turn to you, who almost gagged at the second time seeing the girl turn around with the man, barely able to catch up with him with her panties hanging and... dripping.

"Leave." They both commanded and you rolled your eyes, about to leave until Soap appeared down the hall- asking for you.

"Where are you pretty-? What the fuck?!"

You see him running and by the time you turn around again as you hear the click of something familiar--

a gun was in between your eyes, straight at your forehead.

So close that your eyes went cross-eyes, made you dizzy and gagged for a third time.

Even worse so, that went Soap tries pushing you out of the way, it pushed you forward and land on the behemonth- taking him off balance and throwing you in another dizzying spell.

This time, confirming that the beer did come out of your system one way or another.

Right.

On.

His.

Suit.

"Konig!"

Note to self, never buy beer again.

A/N: Well, this one was in the drafts for a while but-- we finally get to put some special peepo in this chapter hehe~ Next is the epilogue with it featuring two POVs this time, as always- will be cookin' up the next one soon ~

Taglist! <3

@astreaaaaaa6 @accidental-obsessionist @sunshineistoofuckingbright

[synthetickitsune]

To Save The World ✧ h.js

Pairing: Joshua Hong x gn!reader Genre: angst Summary: Joshua made his choice. Now he has to commit to it. The world must go on. And for that, he has to make you go. Word count: 1.6k Warnings: blood, knives, reader dies A/N: inspired by @chugging-antiseptic-dye's post here bcs you can't say "joshua slitting your throat" and expect me to be normal, and also it's highly recommended to read this as well

The night falls. The stars twinkle above, yet the light seems dimmed. The world must be asleep. Perhaps it might be as kind as to close its eyes to what he’s about to do. If there’s one thing the world’s always been good at, afterall, it’s turning away from those who need its help the most. There's a duty to them that he always carried on his shoulders. He’s always tried to make up for what the universe couldn’t do. Now that he’s in need of help, however, who will save him? 

He never thought that burden would eventually end up being his own demise.

Joshua’s breath comes out as thin clouds that soon evaporate into nothingness. Just the same as him. Every breath is a thought, a memory, a part of him. He wills them to be. He needs to send them all off, so that he can at least hope to be saved one day. He hopes the wind can carry all of him far enough that he won’t be tainted. 

He spent what felt like hours standing under scalding water. As if filth can be washed ahead of time. 

Anyway. 

Washed as best as he could make it and free of all scent, he feels naked. A blank sheet. Now all that’s left is to cleanse himself of himself. Not a man, but a hero. A fragile puppet dancing however fate and duty pull its strings. Empty. To be filled again with a different substance. Transformed. A copy of himself only on the outside.

The cold makes him feel frozen in time. If it doesn’t start ticking again soon, he will surely lose his mind. But perhaps that’s an option he’d gladly take. There is little chance of that happening soon enough, though. No, it’s not going to happen until it’s too late.

He hears lone footsteps slowly approaching. Bile rises up his throat. He closes his eyes and takes a couple of long, deep breaths. He tries to keep them even. To keep the tremors out of his breathing at least. He can’t be heard. He has to keep standing but his knees can barely support him. If only the darkness of the alley could swallow him. If only the wall behind his back could turn into goo. Trap him like an insect in tree sap. Keep him trapped in amber so that everyone could witness his cowardice that even outweighs the sin he’s about to commit.

‘Hero’ is a funny world. A joke.

In the end, he couldn’t save everyone. Forget everyone. Just one person.

The sound gets closer. Have you always walked with a skip in your step when you were rushing home to him? The bile again. His stomach twists. He has to force himself to swallow. The street remains empty. Everything else aside, Joshua can’t let anyone see his face ever again. He won’t ever look at his face again. His hands feel clammy. He can’t breathe. He can’t—

The knife almost slips from his hand. He only sees your side profile for a split second. He can’t double over. Not now. He’s already a coward hiding in the shadows. So it feels like a cruel joke, the sight that his eyes let him see. It’s like the clouds part and you’re suddenly bathed in moonlight. Are the stars taking you before he can? He only has fractions of a second to pray it is so. To hope his hands will pass right through you. That the moon saves you and cradles you in its cold silver arms.

It’s with practiced ease that he reaches from his hiding spot. It’s with hard-earned skill and speed that he grabs you and pulls you back into the shadows, away from the light that exposes his weakness. He ensnares you in the darkness with him before you can make a sound or register what’s happening.

With tender strength he holds you against his chest. His arm wraps around your waist perfectly, pinning your arms to your sides. It should be like this. You belong with him. He should always hold you. What does heaven have that lying with you, your head above his heart and his arms around you doesn’t provide? Your body fits against his like you were made for him. And lately he believes you were, just to make your fate that much crueler. To start his punishment long before he knew he’s going to be punished.

You can’t make a sound with his hand covering your mouth. He wishes you could. Blame him. Hate him. (Love him.) Your struggling is useless. He’s always been stronger than you. Could always easily pin you down. Why can’t you pout about it now? (Please hit his chest. Please call him mean. Please laugh and pull him down for a kiss.)

Your efforts double when the glint of the blade catches your eye. He has already messed up. He shouldn’t have held you one last time. It comes so naturally to him, though. Instincts can’t be overridden. He had to. He tries to make his voice deeper, unrecognizable. To his own ears he doesn’t sound like himself when he shushes you. You sound every bit like yourself when you whimper. (Can’t he hold you tighter? Can’t he pull the blanket over you like he’s always done and shield you from the rest of the world?)

In his memories, it’s always your hair, your cheeks that he caresses. Your lip under his thumb. As he moves his hand lower though, he discovers that the skin on the vulnerable column of your throat is surprisingly soft too. (Did he not explore your body enough? Will this be one more regret to haunt him day and night?) Your breathing, your heartbeat, he can feel it all with his touch. It’s so fast. Like the little bunny’s that you promised to adopt with him. The one you won’t make a half-orphan because you never brought it home. Your eyes look like prey animal’s caught in a trap too.

His thumb strokes over your windpipe. You deserve that. You deserve something more intimate. You deserve something warmer than the cold steel of the knife. You deserve him. Not a stranger.

But he can’t. He’s a coward. His strength isn’t as tender now. It’s desperate. He doesn’t want to let go. You don’t make a sound.

(Please whine. Please tell him to let go. Please call him clingy. Please tell him to let you hug him too.)

His hand stops before it can dip under your shirt. His fingertips barely brush against your collarbone. How selfish he can be. You must be so scared - a stranger holding you, a stranger touching you. Joshua knows if it was him you saw holding a knife so close to your face, you wouldn’t be scared at all. 

(Smile at him. See him.)

As if sensing his hesitation, you move. Just one lone, weak attempt to break free. Just a jolt of an animal that doesn’t wish to be pet.

He leans his head against yours. (Hurt him. Do it. Please.) You stay still. For a blink of an eye that lasts an eternity, you settle and relax. Like he’s holding you while you cook dinner. Like he’s comforting you after a long day. Like you’re watching the storm outside from the warmth of your home. Like he’s saying goodbye.

Like you know what’s coming.

It’s with an order, an impulse to his nerves that doesn’t, that can’t have, come from his own brain and free will that the knife in his sweaty palm turns. Your breathing picks up more. The blade presses against the side of your throat and he—

Joshua!

The shriek pierces the silence of the night.

It rains. Crimson splatters on the ground.

But all he hears is your voice.

Did you recognize him and called his name in shock? Betrayal? Understanding?

Were you calling him for help?

Did you want his name to be your last word?

The knife clatters on the ground with echoes of his name, of your voice. Nothing else is real.

His hand clutches your throat and presses against it with force. He’s trying to pull the split tissue together but it won’t listen and the blood keeps pouring.

The warmth encompassing his hands must be your hands grabbing his. Slipping your fingers between his.

You’re just standing in the shower. It’s hot water rolling down your bodies. You’ll laugh. You’ll scold him for simply holding you instead of washing up.

What’s the point if his hands are forever dyed red.

No shower will ever be enough.

And your life keeps trickling down his fingers and pooling under his feet.

He collapses with you.

His head falls, forehead resting against yours.

(Look at him.)

He holds you like you’re dancing. Your silly wish to look at him after he twirls you. To lean back into his arms and look up at him.

So look at him. 

There’s nothing interesting to see at the back of your skull.

He sobs, but he only hears your voice. Only feels the claws of guilt and pain tearing at his throat from the inside.

Did you know? Could you tell he held you? Did you know you’re not alone? That you don’t have to be scared? 

Look at him. 

Tell him.

The world did not end with a bang. Nor with a whimper. The world did not end at all that night.

But there, in a dark alley where blood pools on the cobblestone, a life and a soul were crushed to save it. 

[numberonetribble]

Some Continuation Errors and Other Hmmmm's I spotted in TF One! (this is for funsies!)

- When Orion broadcasts the news to Iacon we hear Sentinel say, "I'm working my miners as hard as I can, I swear I will get you the rest!" Revisiting the scene, he doesn't say this!

Instead the closest we get is; "I know what I promised you, but our mines, they're running out! There's barely enough Energon for us! I swear I will get you the rest!"

Which the miner line is super raw, I really like it, but why would they cut it? Maybe it's to convey to the audience that things are even bleaker ON TOP of the Quintessants being there? It's an interesting choice to keep both lines in!

- Staying in this scene, Orion plays the "I took his cog for myself." line. He was not there for that. Unless he'd digging around in her memories and this is first and foremost in her brain, he wouldn't know to look for it. Which also, it took me several rewatches for me to figure out WHY he thought she was the key. Thing is, other than that first line, he plays lines that he personally witnessed, Orion did not need her memories for this plan to work. Maybe one could argue he wanted hers as his would be considered bias to the public and Sentinel's Right Hand's are undeniable. But the citizens don't see that.

- During the race we see Elita moving crates around as if she's at work. Sentinel said that there would be NO work for all shifts. Yes she's a workaholic. However, she's not alone. There's at least two other bots working with her. Maybe they're also workaholics? Maybe their supervisor told them no you still have to work?

My only guess, it's the next day and they're trying to get those trains loaded as Sentinel has a delivery scheduled. However, these trains should've been prepped and ready to go WAY before this. It's too important to leave last minute. At MOST D-16 and Orion are in the infirmary for a day. They're un-cogged and barely injured, during triage they would've been put last to attend to. So at best, Sentinel is back for 2 days before leaving again. Not nearly enough time to load that many trains.

- When we meet B-127 he says that the new Shift Manager doesn't like distractions. We the audience know he's referencing Elita. She's been there for maybe 2 days. (This isn't really a Continuation Error more like, really interesting? It implies that the timeline was different in an earlier draft as that's very fast for her to establish herself to this division especially during a national holiday. Sure she's the kind of person who would but, you know, this is for funsies)

- The opening narration tells us the audience that the Matrix is needed for Energon to flow. Orion knows this, the citizens know this. Sentinel sees it as an object that can be taken and dismissed the lore of how it works. But why make this recording?? Maybe it was for new Sparklings to watch on their first day alive, but it's in the Archives now. Orion hadn't seen it before, meaning it got phased out. Why not destroy it?

Orion is so insistent that there might be data to help Sentinel, but he never stops to think that Sentinel already knows everything in that Archive.

These are just some thoughts I've been chewing on! I've been watching it everyday after work and these are what stick out to me the most. It's still a really good movie and I love it alot I just want to talk about this stuff 👉👈

[msunitedstatesjames]

Ranking Veilguard Companion Questlines:

This ranking is truly based off how much I enjoyed the questlines overall, not how much I like each character. I liked all the companions and overall liked their quests, but some really stood out to me more than others.

7. Neve

Neve was one of my favorite companions in terms of personality, and depending on the choices you make she can have a really interesting role in the endgame. However, her quests felt kind of bland and one note to me. Evil blood mages are kind of old hat in the DA games at this point, and Aelia just didn't really stand out from the crowd as a villain. There were some pretty gruesome moments in the final quest where Aelia is puppeting people, but overall I just didn't find these quests to be super memorable.

6. Harding

This one should probably be higher up the list just for its lore implications, but for some reason I just didn't feel all that engaged with her storyline. I guess I wanted a little more. Harding implies that she's struggling with her powers, but we're never really shown much of that, other than the fact that she has confusing dreams now. She talks about her anger in regards to the Titan revelation, but again, I think we needed more. She only really seems angry for brief moments here and there, which makes it a little hard to believe when her final choice is pretty much whether or not to hold onto her anger. She does talk about how she's kind of a people pleaser and likes to seem cheerful as a result, but if that's the case they still coild have done more with that.

5. Bellara

Going into this, I had to remind myself about some of the details of Bellara's storyline, because other than the situation with her brother I didn't immediately remember her plot. The problem I have with her story is that sometimes it feels like there are two separate issues at play, the Archive and her brother. They do end up being connected, but it feels kind of loose. Dealing with the feelings of betrayal and grief in regards to her brother did add an important emotional resonance to her story, so that helped rank her above some others. The choice you make in the end feels very meaningful in terms of the world, but we don't have the chance to see it play out in any meaningful way within the game. I would have liked to see a noticeable shift of some kind, at least in Veiljumper territory, based on Bellara's choice, but all we got is one moment in the finale where the game has to tell us we're seeing the results of her decision.

4. Lucanis

Lucanis's storyline had some pretty cool scenes. The Ossuary. Going into his own mind. Confronting Zara. But considering everything he has going on, at times his storyline seemed like it needed more fleshing out. This dude is a non-mage possessed by a demon. Is that ever really explained other than by the fact that Zara was just a freaky, evil experimenter? We've had so many characters in DA with absolutely nightmarish experiences with possession, and honestly everyone is just pretty cool with Lucanis and Spite just being a chill partnership, maybe because he's not a mage. I know there are comments about how people probably aren't actually cool with it, Lucanis says as much about the Crows in the end, but we don't really get to see that. It might have been interesting for there to be more tangible tension between Lucanis and those around him based on his demonic possession.

3. Taash

I really struggled with where to place Taash's questline, as some aspects felt quite weak and others felt deeply meaningful. In the end, I surprised myself by ranking them so high. When I immediately look back on their questlines, there doesn't seem to be a lot there. Taash hunts around for some dragons, has dinner with their mom, and finally in the end fights the Dragon King. Taash's story is perhaps less related to the overall plot of Veilguard than any other character but Emmrich, which didn't necessarily help. And though I find Taash's quest for identity to be an important one, it doesn't lend itself to the same kind of excitement as some of the others. Still, emotionally this series of quests ends up doing a lot of heavy lifting. Specifically, I found Taash's relationship with Shathann to lend a lot to their story. Even if you can't relate to Taash's struggles with gender or identity, almost everyone can relate to the struggle between a parent and a child. I was never quite sure what to think of Shathann. And I think that's very real. When I look at the parents of my friends and loved ones I often see the duality of everything they've done out of love for their children and everything they've done that has harmed them. At times I found Shathann to be caring and protective, at other times to be borderline abusive and too desiring of control over Taash's life. And though this situtaion might be extreme compared to many people's experiences with their parents, there's an almost innate toxicity to all parent child relationships at one point or another, as a child tries to grow in one direction that might not be what the parent wants or hopes. And I think these quests walk that thin line we all tread at one point or another in our lives, where you have someone that you love even when you feel that they don't deserve your love or deserve you, but you still can't help but care about them anyway. But in the end Taash does love their mother, and when Shathann dies Taash's rage feels very real, as does their entire relationship dynamic throughout the game.

2. Davrin

Davrin's story benefits from being perhaps more closely tied in to the world and the story of Veilguard than any other. The Grey Wardens and the Blight have always been central to DA, and only Origins has made them more central than Veilguard did. But Davrin and Assan really did steal my heart. At first, I didn't find Davrin to be especially exciting. He seemed like just another stoic warrior type. But the more time you spent with he and Assan and the other Wardens, the more you came to love him. The Gloom Howler storyline, along with the return of the griffons, was fascinating and the stakes felt extremely high. The stakes felt so high in fact that I often wondered how Davrin remained so calm as Rook paraded around the Necropolis Gardens or Arlathan while the Gloom Howler was off somewhere doing who knew what to the world's only family of griffons. The choice you made about the griffons was honestly the hardest in the game for me. Many of the other choices felt obvious from a typical heroic video game character sense of morality, where the game designers seem to want you to pick the happy, cheerful, forgiving route over any other. But the griffon choice had no obvious answer to a question I didn't even expect to be asked, and I stared at the screen for a while before I made it. My one problem with this is that it felt bizarre for Rook to even be making such a choice. And the other good thing about this quest is that at least you get to visit with the griffons a few times after the choice to get a little taste of how your choice is panning out. The interesting thing will be to see if this choice plays into any future DA stories and games.

1.Emmrich

All right, I can't even pretend to be unbiased here. If you scroll through my blog you will see countless Emmrich posts. This dude was my unexpected romance choice and my unexpected favorite companion in the game. He has interesting commentary in most situations, his voice acting is delightful, and he stands out as a fresh and unique character among many wonderful DA companions over the years. But this is supposed to be about his questline, not just how much I adore him. I've written extensively about my love for these quests elsewhere on my blog, but I'll restate the basics here. His questline had one major thing going for it from the very beginning, that being that we've heard much about the Mourn Watch and the Necropolis, but have never had the chance to experience any of it. I was immediately intrigued to learn more about them. I very much expect a certain dark and spooky vibe from Necromancers, but in many ways the Necromancers in this questline defy expectations. Yeah, they're still kind of weirdos who love everything to do with the dead, but Emmrich is a kind, compassionate weirdo and Hezenkoss is, despite being the villain, kind of just a dorky chick. And yet, somehow this makes her the best villain in the game. She's evil. She tortures souls. She wants to embody a giant skeleton and rule over Nevarra City as a giant, immortal skeleton queen. She wants to commit murders because her peers are too dull, too stupid, or have committed plagirism. She has weird little gestures she does as she discusses her evil plan. She uses overdramatic, stereotypical villain language like calling everyone "fools" and complaining about Emmrich's "sanctimonius bleating." She completely believes that Emmrich is the main character in this story, he must be because she believes herself to be the main villain. She's just as much of a nerd as Emmrich and equally as skilled, and in fact reflects quite poignantly the atrocities Emmrich could have committed if he wasn't so deeply compassionate. She's an extremely memorable villain compared to others in the companion quests (and even the main quest), and she's all the better because she helps define Emmrich that much more clearly, which is exactly the job of a good companion quest and a good villain. She's so good that she's even brought back to bicker with Emmrich from beyond death for the rest of the game. All that, and I haven't even touched on Emmrich's big choice. The lich choice is so effective because it forces Emmrich to confront his very clearly stated worst fear, death, which is doubly interesting considering his occupation. It's also such a good choice because it presents you with an immediate and tangible effect, unlike many other quests. Either you save Manfred and Emmrich remains mortal, or you lose Manfred and Emmrich transforms into an immortal skeleton. Either way, you're bound to notice and feel the difference. Even without a major main quest connection, this storyline was just so well done.

[inthehouseoffinwe]

AU where even after death our favourite Finwëions are being stubborn as ever so a new solution is found. Finarfin just wanted to help his grandson in law.

Fëanor and Fingolfin are being stubborn as ever

It’s been three ages, their wounds are healed, they’ve made up and understood most of their deeds

But they cannot for the life of them get along, and everyone, from Mandos to their children and people, know that if they’re released in their current state, things will go right back to how they were

Even if their people are kept in line by their kids, it’s a very explosive situation

And in all honesty, Námo feels like they’ve put poor Finarfin through enough without this addition

He can’t keep them here forever. The halls aren’t meant to be a permanent residence unless it’s by choice, and they’ve started causing chaos in here too

…but speaking of the sons of Finwë

Finarfin himself isn’t doing particularly well right now. He feels great guilt for his inaction over the last two Ages, especially as Tyelpë and Ereinion turned up with their own tales

Then of course little Celebrian

(Doesn’t matter how much everyone tells him they’d genuinely be lost without him and his actions. The Noldor especially would’ve been outcast and alone. They needed a stable ruler, not another revolutionary. And the work he’s done is more impactful than either of his brothers ever managed)

Not to mention he’s still furious at his brothers despite what he’s convinced himself of

…and misses them greatly.

Truth be told, the Valar owe him a lot.

So they offer him a choice.

Ereinion’s skilled with managing all kinds of people and people don’t have a problem with the kid, so for a time he’ll be the High King

Finarfin is overjoyed at the chance to help his granddaughter’s family. Elrond is dear to many across all factions, and his children too.

…He’s less overjoyed at the news his brothers will be joining him if he agrees.

Nevertheless desire to be of use for once wins out and he accepts.

He gets a week or so to say his goodbyes and prepare for the journey. Asking around, particularly asking the third age elves who’ve recently arrived and Celebrian most of all, gets him the clothes and supplies he needs to somewhat blend in.

They’re still his colours (though he has none) and his symbol is carefully hidden under the cloak.

And he heads to the Hall’s Opening.

“For what it’s worth, Arafinwë, I’m sorry for the additional baggage. We’ve asked much of you, but hopefully this at least will benefit us all.”

Námo is kind when he stands and opens the gates.

“I know you’ve missed them too.”

The soft whisper dissipates into the wind with the Vala and now two figures are walking out. Tall. Broad shouldered. Eyes shining with light.

Clad in their usual blue and red, weapons strapped to their backs and hips.

Fëanaro and Nolofinwë have returned at last.

Before he can say anything there’s a whirl of light and the three elves are swept away.

Aragorn did not sign up for this

A bright flash of light all but blinds him, leaving three figures in its wake.

Three very tall. Very Elven. Figures.

And if that’s not enough, they look strangely familiar. Like he should know them from somewhere.

“That damn Vala! He couldn’t have warned us!”

And now they’re speaking Quenya.

“He did. It’s not his fault you don’t listen to anyone but yourself,” the one clad in blue says viciously.

The third elf, the only one with blond hair, groaned and glared at the two others. Aragorn winced at the look, thankful he wasn’t under it, though neither of the others so much as flinched.

“You’ve been back how long?” He scoffed. “And here I thought I missed you.”

To his credit the one in blue showed some regret and bowed his head. Beside him, the red one huffed, but it was much less heated, and his hands clenched into the leaves around him.

“Forgive me, Arafinwë,” the blue one said.

Aragorn’s hand found his blade. It couldn’t be…

“Depends what you want forgiveness for, Nolo,” was the cold reply, tinged with hurt.

No way.

But it was there. The uncanny resemblance to the portraits he’d seen in his books as a young boy learning his history. This was no doubt Fingolfin, and beside him Finarfin. Which only left-

“My feud with Fëanaro has long tainted our relationship, little brother,” the blue elf- *Fingolfin* replied bitterly, glaring at the third elf. “I’d like to start again.”

“Well I’d like you two to shove your issues aside for once and try and get along!” Finarfin hissed back, and his older brother’s eyes widened. “How long will you keep fighting?! How long will you divide your people, your children! How long will you make them suffer for your egos?!”

Aragorn expected Fëanor to scowl, angrily proclaim his youngest half brother had no right to speak that way, but the elf only glared into the floor. Fingolfin stared into the trees and Finarfin turned away, eyes clouding with pain.

Only to stare right at Aragorn.

“Fëanaro, Nolo. Swords up.”

To their credit the elves immediately stood and followed Finarfin’s gaze to Aragorn. The Ranger carefully stepped into the light as the three sons of Finwë stared him down.

“It is not polite to lurk, stranger.” Fingolfin said in the common tongue and Aragorn vaguely wondered if he’d been taught it in the halls. He put his hands up, free of weapons, and lowered his hood.

“Forgive me, my lord Fingolfin. But I had to identify if you were friend of foe. You appeared in a strange manner wearing faces of old, and the enemy is skilled in his deceit.”

“You dare accuse us of being Sauron’s creations?” Fëanor’s eyes lit with a fell fire and Aragorn would have shuddered was he not accustomed to seeing much worse from his own father. Elrond could be… rather terrifying when he decided he’d had enough of his son’s’ shenanigans.

“He was being cautious,” Finarfin retorted. “Something you could learn from considering how your life ended.”

“I didn’t know what Balrogs were!”

“The great Fëanaro admitting to not knowing something, have the end of days come at last?”

“Some would say his presence here is an indicator of that,” Fingolfin muttered as Fëanor scowled at the blond. The scowl turned to him and he met it squarely. “I said what I said.”

The situation was fast unravelling and Aragorn had Nazgul on his tail. For all his training in Elrond’s house, nothing had prepared him for dealing with three Princes - Kings??? - of the Noldor at each others throats. Sending a prayer that this wouldn’t get him skewered, he whistled sharply and the three elves spun his way. He raised his hands in apology.

“Orcs and other fell beasts roam these lands, my lords. I’d advise a quieter argument?” He grimaced at the two stunned faces, wondering when it would turn to explosive anger that ended the line of Elros once and for all.

But Finarfin tilted his head, a small smile playing about his lips.

“It takes great courage to step between the arguments of the House of Finwë. What’s your name, stranger.”

The Ranger bowed his head.

“The trees have ears, my lord, I’d take you to an Elven safehaven before telling you that. But for now, you can call me Strider.”

[undercoverdonderwolk]

Ok so I don’t have any insider gossip for you, but I have little tidbit that there’s a pundit that is absolutely adamant that Horner wanted daniel for the RBR seat and was pushing for it quiet heavily even after summer break. I don’t know what the ~vibes~ we’re closer to Singapore but it makes me wonder:

I feel like the power play of it all could be the reason that Horner is apparently just not looking at Lawson or Yuki at all. Like, stay with me, but let’s say Horner’s first choice (when it became clear he was coming back to RBR) was Daniel. Hence, them kind of rushing him back into the seat at AT. But of course we know, Marko wasn’t for it and Daniel’s form at the start of his VCARB stint didn’t help him. So, then Marko started pushing for Yuki and then later Liam, not necessarily to spite Daniel but to spite Horner (specifically).

Then, when it became apparent that Marko was gaining some traction back into the team, Horner knew he couldn’t just keep all his eggs in the Danny basket - and this is where he starts to more heavily publicly back Checo. He needed a failsafe. If he can’t have Daniel (and therefore Max) firmly in his corner then he can at least keep Checo in the seat and have his sponsors to ensure the team is being paid dividends - at least financially if not in terms of overall performance.

This is why I thin we’re seeing this push-pull narrative suddenly back in the media. An comes out saying Horner doesn’t rate Liam, Marko comes out saying Checo is “acting like he would drive for us next year”. It doesn’t make sense to anyone else why Checo even has a shot at staying in the team next year - but it’s because they haven’t paid attention to the chess game going on between Horner/Marko all year like we’ve had to.

Somewhere along the way, Horner lost, at least in some sense. I don’t know where exactly, but one of his plays obviously fell through and one of his pieces (Daniel) was just removed from the board. The only play he has left is Checo and the backing of the shareholders that might come with it (also, let’s not forget it was the shareholders that backed him after his harassment allegations). Because if Marko gets Checo out and Liam or Yuki in, then he has 2/2 drivers on his side and can make last power grab before his own contract is up in 2026. I think regardless, things are going to get messy on RBR next year and I’m so glad in hindsight that Daniel isn’t in the middle of it. But to me this is the scenario that makes the most sense.

My only Hang up still is Horner’s lack of long-term plan. Like, why is he going so hard for Checo when he’s almost guaranteed to be out by 2026? What happens then? Maybe he thought he would be in the same boat with Daniel regardless because I was always of the opinion Daniel wouldn’t be in the seat past 2026 anyway. Idk I just felt like he wanted one more year, one last hurrah and then he’s how out (so potentially 2024-2026 if he’d gotten the seat this year). Maybe Horner just feels like if he can keep Checo in one more year, Marko will leave anyway in 2026 and he can rebuild from there but I still don’t think - if Max stays in 2026 - it’s a guarantee Marko leaves. Which I think would be personally hilarious for moi…if Horner ended up with no Daniel, no Checo, no championships, just Marko and a junior that he didn’t want in the first place 😅

hellooooo! i've read this a few times now and it's p much exactly what i think!!!!! as for your question, i think he's going so hard for checo because he is all that he's got left right now. max, yuki and liam are all marko's guys. and i think horner thinks if he can just keep someone on his side with big money until 2026, then he has two more years to find a new guy...

[sysig]

Let him dad her!! (Patreon)

[brittlebutch]

actually it's kind of funny how people will say Alex's fatal flaw is that he 'doesn't ask for help' and that it's his determination to handle things on his own that leads to his deterioration and eventual death when his whole introduction to the present-day timeline was a very literal cry for help that simply went ignored

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent lounging babey images

[coquelicoq]

wow. they weren't lying that 19 portland mayoral candidates sure can underwhelming

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 8: !!NOTE: this is different from the past polls - rather than choosing a story action, you're picking supplies to craft a little makeshift boat (EX: wood will be the main platform, so there should likely be the most of it, however, if there were 100% votes for branches and 0% votes for rope, then it'd just be a pile of wood held together by nothing - keep them balanced reasonably, etc.))

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should get around the barrier by crafting a little boat to take a river detour….

~

Finally crawling out of his hiding spot in the brambles, he meticulously brushes the leaves from his clothes and composes himself, now fully focused on his generic traveler's map of the area... After checking it about 500 times just to make sure he isn't confused, he determines that going down the nearby river would likely still get him where he's trying to go, and hopefully be much less treacherous than wandering through haunted forests or confronting the stern gaze of the barrier guards..

It only takes about 10 minutes of following a narrower rocky path off the main road to reach a nice shaded spot of land next to a small river. He kneels in the grass, eagerly rummaging through his backpack for supplies, in addition to whatever he can scavenge from the edge of the woods. The rush of excitement slowly dissipates however, once he realizes that he.. actually.. might not know how to make a raft as well as he thought... Surely it's quite straightforward, no? Just.. make it look like it does in picture books?? There are no rules, as long as it floats, it works! Probably anyone could build one on intuition alone! ... maybe...???

.. Once again sinking into a cloud of anxiety, he slumps over, staring at the pile of materials with teary eyes, doubtful what to even do next.... How should he build the raft? Help him by using the poll to choose the appropriate amounts of materials (determined by final % of votes in that category)!

[littlecafe]

i’ve been obsessed with this game for a couple months now called livly island and it’s so funny because there’s literally nothing to do in it but ironically that’s what keeps me going on because i don’t feel pressured to have to do much!! it’s a decorating, dress up, basic pet gacha game and you mainly do your dailies and go water and harvest trees and take care of your pets

when you first join you get 10 free pulls in the “tutorial” phase but they make you pull it on the current newest banner only, so i noticed a new banner is coming into the game today so i screenshot both banners so you can choose which one you like more:

teapot image, the newest one right now it’s already in game so if you like it start now and you’ll get 10 free pulls on it

succulents and keyboard image, this will be added into the game later today (12pm japan time, roughly 7hrs away) so if you like this one more then wait until that time to download the game and you’ll get the 10 free pulls on that one instead

even though it’s a gacha game, one good thing is that it let’s you trade your duplicate items with other players (it uses gacha currency to trade but the cost is less than a single pull so it’s actually better!) the english player base isn’t as big as the japanese and chinese player base but the game has google translate built in so it’s not too hard to understand each other 

my id in game is pkxmf7h5 if you’d like to add me! you can also ask me anything if you need help, it’s a simple game but there are some quirks and it took a while for me to get used to their menus and submenu setup lol

[kkujo]

.

[rocaillefox]

if you are writing fanfic about a story that has Themes and you say something in the exposition thats Directly Against These Themes, well. depending on what youre saying i may keep reading BUT the point is you are on some Thin Ice. (about if i will keep reading)

[weaselle]

i had to make a solution for this for myself, mostly because of depression, but it makes a nice How To for folks who are low on spoons or could use some help in the kitchen.

Fortunately i was a professional cook for over a decade. UNfortunately the first post i made explaining it was suuuuper long. Let's see if i can do better

So you select any protein that you can cook in a frying pan -- chicken breasts, ground beef, pork chops, sausages, steak, chicken thighs, whatever. You also select one or two types of veggie (mushrooms or tubers also work, i just did this with potatoes and carrots for dinner tonight).

[i like cooking for vegetarians, but this is how i cook for myself when i'm low on spoons - perhaps i'll do another post for meatless meals]

You'll also need some kind of oil, and a sauce or two of your choice in a bottle. All cooking gear is a large frying pan with lid (i prefer non-stick) a spatula, a cutting board, and a knife.

You cut the veggies into bite size pieces, cut up enough for two meals. One kind of veggie is fine, or you can do mix two or three

Put frying pan on medium heat with a little oil. Tubers or mushrooms or go in the pan a few minutes before the protein. 2 portions of the protein goes in the pan, about 5 minutes with lid (don't worry you can still get a good sear on both sides)

Now flip your protein if it's flip-able and add normal veggies, put the lid back on another five-ish minutes.

Take your protein out and put it with one portion of the veggies in a microwave safe container. That's going to be your lunch tomorrow. Put the other portion of protein on a plate to rest (you have to let a cooked protein sit a couple minutes before you serve it or when you cut into it all the juices run out and it goes dry - the liquids thicken as it cools, preventing this drying out if you let it rest, the goal is to serve it very warm but not hot hot)

While it's resting, pour some sauce from your bottle in the pan with the rest of the veggies and turn up the heat. A single sauce/bottle is fine, i like to get fancy and mix a couple. Two examples of personal favorite mixes are 1: bbq sauce and a hot sauce like sriracha 2: roughly equal parts low sodium soy sauce and worcestershire (makes something similar to a teriyaki sauce) A swallow of wine is almost always a great option if you want to add that to your sauce too, just add it to the pan before the other sauces so the alcohol has time to burn off.

...

Here is the important bit. While your veggies are finishing, wash your cutting board and chef knife. Then when you dump your veggies and sauce over your protein on the plate, while it is still too hot to eat, you wash your frying pan and spatula before you eat. Now the only dishes you have left to do are your plate and fork. Maybe a steak knife.

...

The whole thing takes about 35 minutes even with washing the dishes, and that includes your lunch for the next day- just pour a different sauce on and stick it in the microwave for a couple minutes (or five minutes back in the frying pan) and you have a full healthy lunch with a different flavor

You can use this technique every single meal and it yields hundreds of combinations, from pork and potatoes bbq, to salmon and broccoli teriyaki, to chicken and zucchini in a soy glaze.

It will keep you down to less than an hour of kitchen time per day total for both lunch and dinner including all dish clean up, uses the least dishes, the least effort, requires the least technique, and is, depending on what you pick out, very affordable

here are a couple more examples from this month; i didn’t take pictures of the salmon i did recently, but you get the idea

it's not super fancy, but it is easy, affordable, quick, and any flavors you want. Hope this helps some folks

Happy Cooking!

[vaspider]

Tonight, the night before Election Day 2024 in the US, I am thinking about my stepkid.

I am thinking about the phone call they made to us earlier this year, the one where they told us they'd gone to the hospital thinking they had appendicitis and found out, instead, that a zygote - a tiny splodge of cells - had taken up residence not in their uterus but in a fallopian tube. The one where our kid said they were waiting for their partner to arrive, hoped that said partner would get there before the docs took our kid back to terminate that pregnancy, & assured us that they'd be okay.

After all, our kid lives in a state with choice measures embedded in state law. That pea-sized blot of tissue doesn't have more right to their health than they do. Nobody is standing between them and their doctors. They made a decision, and that was that.

In this tiny tragedy, the kind that plays out dozens of times a day at minimum across the country, we only had to worry about the small risk of surgery complications. We didn't have to worry about Ken Paxton threatening to charge their doctors with felonies. We didn't have to think, "What if the hospital's legal team doesn't think an ectopic pregnancy - which is never ever viable and must be terminated before it kills our kid - is really that big of a deal?" We didn't have to worry that they live in a state where ob-gyns are fleeing, leaving few experts behind, as has happened in Idaho.

We didn't have to watch our kid vomit up black blood before dying the day after their baby shower the way Neveah's mom did. We didn't have to pray in a waiting room (while doctors took our kid apart until their heart stopped because the doctors waited too long out of fear of anti-choice laws) until a doctor came to tell us we'd have to bury them the way that Amber's mom did. We aren't having to pick up our lives after fully treatable miscarriage-related sepsis took them from us the way that Josseli's husband and daughter must.

I could go on for far, far too long.

Listen. If you are a single-issue non-voter and have already decided that "both parties are the same" or whatever other thing you've told yourself so you can sleep at night, smug and secure, then I can't reach you and I can't help you. But if you genuinely think that your votes don't matter, if you're just suffering from a bout of overwhelm or apathy, if you're too young to remember the 2000 election and can't see that Dobbs is a direct result of that election and every one that's followed, please, I am fucking begging you.

I didn't really talk about this when it happened. I mentioned something briefly, maybe. The posts I've started writing about it are still in my drafts. It was too fresh, too frightening. It's not any less frightening now, honestly - because if this week doesn't end with President Kamala Harris, we're headed for a national abortion ban, at the minimum - but it's not about how fucking frightened I was or how sad and bewildered I was to realize that my kid was going through this crisis in a nation more hostile to them than when I needed a D&C for an abortion at 21, in 1998.

It's about stopping this chapter of this fucking bullshit and at least finding some new fucking bullshit.

Vote, dammit.

Do the other work on Wednesday. Tomorrow, the work is to vote.