#one of them started cleaning the other one for no reason?

[thetadispatcher]

The android nodded in agreement, at least there were humans that understood his methods and saw no problem with them. Even if Bishop was the first human he'd met that agreed with him, and his system had already calculated the likelihood of him meeting more to be slim, he could still appreciate that maybe one day he'd get to work with a human who wouldn't complain about his work ethics.

"If only I could get the humans, and androids, I work with to understand, although I see no possibility of that happening. Shame really, but such is life. Once you develop freewill, everything you do will be scrutinized differently, instead of them simply chalking it up to a machine being cold and unfeeling." Even if Gavin did occasionally question if the RK900 was truly deviant or just pretending. Something he'd never give the human a straight answer for, he felt it was a good chance for the detective to prove his skills, and just a good opportunity to mess with the man more.

John glanced at Bishop, raising his eyebrow slightly as he listened to the man talk about the fact there was a human version of him. "Hm... Well, even being human can't stop the military from getting their hands on me. Good to know, I had wondered that once." It had only been a brief thought, and not one he felt would ever be answered. But it seemed like anything was possible, so he'd have to take that into consideration when wondering things in the future.

"I can say Peter cares about me, although I sometimes suspect that's just due to me being the first deviant he actually got to experience. Another of Cyberlife's great plans, hide the units they lied about destroying with employees, and people they could trust to keep quiet about it. Catherine, his Cyberlife friend, made a pretty good argument for him being a good candidate for that activity. Didn't bother to warn him as they thought he already knew thanks to her, so he was a bit freaked out the day he came home from work and found me in his old apartment... I might've ruffed him up a bit more then necessary, but I wasn't prepared for him to start trying to fight me."

John couldn't blame Peter for reacting how he had to a stranger showing up in his home unannounced, and Peter didn't hold it against the android for defending himself against a clearly panicked human. But they did eventually get things worked out after he'd managed to restrain the young man, and prove to him he wasn't actually there to harm him.

"Oh, the talking corpse." Nines said calmly, ignoring Hugh giving him a shocked look at his choice of words. "I'm not shocked to hear he has a bond with another version of John, for having very different personalities they get along quite well. Although it seems things went down a more tragic path for them, if the smell of a roughly five month old corpse that been sitting on the ocean floor is any indicator." Hugh attempted to silence the RK900 by giving the unit a harsh shove to his shoulder and a very upset look.

Nines just gave him a bored look, as if he saw no problem with how blunt he was being about the odd man currently in the house. "I can provide further evidence, such as the black gel on his body. Any normal human would clean that from their skin, but he hasn't. So, that would lead one to believe it might be part of the reason why he's up and about." He glanced at John as the android wirelessly criticized him then shifted his focus to Bishop. "Am I correct?"

Kelvin didn't respond through the link as the damage he'd suffered made his attempts turn into a garbled mess of useless noise that overwhelmed whoever he was linked with, and he wasn't actually used to hearing the other speak through the link clearly since it was usually a dull buzz for him.

He perked up a bit upon being able to make out actual words through the low droning sound in his mind, to which he eagerly nodded as he understood what was being asked of him.

He allowed her access to his memories from the day he was damaged, the data was corrupted, but he felt there was enough still intact to be useful.

The memory file opened to the sound of a helicopter, briefly showing that to his left there was a vast ocean and his right there was another android in a similar outfit to his with an island visible out the window. The image of a human male on a laptop sat across from the other unit flashed before being distorted by the corruption, causing a lapse in time before the memories cleared.

Kelvin was back looking out the window at the water below before the window cracked, seconds later he was being tossed around the helicopter as it lost control. The helicopter came to a halt on the top of a cliff face, the landing jarring a door open causing the other android to fly from the aircraft and plummeting into the ocean below.

His system had been sending messages to Cyberlife and the company he was owned by, attempting to alert them of the situation, but his attempts were nothing but panicked jumbled words and code. Something that shouldn't have happened with a non-deviant android.

Kelvin was nearly flung out with the other unit, but had managed to grab hold of the seat. He struggled to pull himself up and back inside, the human reached to help him as he slipped, dangling from the very edge before he too fell into the water. The last sound he ever heard was the his own scream and the crashing of waves growing louder.

Kelvin's memory corrupted as he slammed into the water, shattering the inner mechanics of his ears, and severely damaging his brain as it was violently slammed against it's housing. Error messages flooded his HUD, obstructing his vision, somehow he managed to find his way out of the water as his system registered sand underneath him. The errors and agonizing pain overwhelmed his system, in response he desperately tried to send error reports as he didn't understand what was happening or the pain he was experiencing. Reports that were never received, continuously failing until the function shutdown entirely, leaving the android unable to contact anyone for help.

His memory continued after another time lapse, showing the human once again now looking the unit over, checking his visible damage and testing to make sure he was still functional enough to be useful.

The remaining intact sections of his memory were of the human giving him orders on a notepad that he happily completed without question. Kelvin seemed to believe the man was his friend as the human allowed him to stay inside the shelter he made, gave him tasks, and would scare off or attack the savage island natives Kelvin pointed out to him. The android took the actions as kindness, not that the man saw him as useful and therefoe had decided to keep him around.

Eventually the pair was rescued and returned to civilization, where the human seemed to have been given a choice regarding Kelvin as the company no longer wanted the android. The man glanced at the damaged unit and shook his head, Kelvin was then lead away by a pair of Cyberlife technicians, clearly not understanding what was happening. He kept looking back at the man, waiting for him to follow them. Moments before his system was deactivated did he understand what was going on, he glanced at the doors waiting for the man he'd believed was his friend to come save him before everything went black.

The next time he opened his eyes was to a very confused Peter staring down at him then looking at an equally perplexed Dan, his first thoughts were of him being hopeful that his human friend was coming to take him home. A hope the unit clearly still had, he seemed to believe the human was coming to get him, doing whatever tasks he could find well he waited for the man to arrive.

Sixty watched the two closely, tucking himself behind Strasky as he was still convinced the connection wouldn't end well.

"Oddly, he really doesn't yell, it's more of a calm type of rage. I think he just keeps his voice down 'cause of the more skittish units. He doesn't wanna start yellin' 'nd make 'em think he's gonna start beatin' on 'em, like their old owners did." He could understand why the human restrained himself from simply screaming, instead showing his anger in other ways as to not cause the traumatized units any unnecessary distress.

Ellis tucked the rag into the pocket of his Cyberlife issued coveralls, he had a feeling he'd be needing it again, so he felt it best to carry it on him so he wouldn't have to get up again.

"Yep, we get a warnin' if it's startin' to run low. Most units don't need to get it refilled that often, if ever. But ones like me, we're always gettin' somethin' in our eyes, so it's more of a monthly thing then a yearly. 'nd no, givin' us eye protection never seems to cross our owners minds." At least from the units he'd spoken with, it seemed the humans thought they didn't need to provide safety glasses to androids as their eyes were different from a humans.

"I always just thought it was my owner doin' all the brain dead crap, don't know if it makes me feel better learin' that isn't the case. Ugh, that man... He always felt the need to correct me on the stuff I was made to do, never made any sense to me, but I had to listen. I think he just liked feelin' superior to a machine, even if he was wrong 'nd the reason we were loosin' business... Which I, of course, was blamed for. I seemed to be his go-to when things when wrong, or when he decided to manifest issues." He rolled his eyes before he got back under the vehicle.

"Grade A idiot he was if ya ask me. I like it here a lot more, I can do things my way 'nd no one will try to tell me I'm wrong, or how somethin' I had nothin' to do with was my fault." He preferred his new life over his old one, and he had no desire to even see how his old owner was doing as he rather forget the man ever existed.

It was hard to say what the intention was there. Even Bishop's compliments sounded condescending.

"I can attest to the effectiveness of that method. There is no place for personal feelings while on duty."

Then one could be particularly wise and never stop working to avoid it completely. Bishop shuffled his cards as he waited on the androids. The question got no major reaction out of him other than the vague frown any attempt at asking him to disclose information got. He sat with his back straight, as expected from an agent of his caliber.

"Well, if you want to know about the human that looks like him," he pointed to John, "Claiming that I know him would be an overstatement. We met less than 48 hours ago. The brief conversations we had and all the flattering things I was told hardly make up for that. All I can tell you is that he was in the military and is of particular importance for Strasky."

And he was mostly neutral despite his interest in the skills of a fellow military men.

Willow showed a distinctively cautious approach as well as the link was established. While she had connected to unstable systems before, it was always best to feel around first, before risking to cause additional damage.

Though she was still confident she could handle this and even attempted talking back. "I would like to have a look at your memories. The others here believe it would help them understand you better if they knew how you were damaged. Additionally, I may be able to repair some of it as well."

Rook shrugged, "It isn't really what I'm aiming for with my streams, but I could steal some of those lines. It might throw them off enough to shut up whenever I stop playing to go back to Minecraft. I just can't be bothered and I don't want to scare my pets with random screams."

She made sure to keep her distance, knowing better than to get in the way while somebody was working.

"Yeah, I figured that was the case. Does that mean you've got to refill sometimes? Like wiper fluid or something like that."

[spiderlot]

I am currently sick and devastated about Lottie’s death bro 😭😭😭

But this got me wondering, what if r! Was dating Lottie and when she dies she starts seeing her just like Shauna saw Jackie? Maybe her personality is the same or maybe it’s different like ghost Jackie’s personality?

Thinking about how r! Is just trying to move on with their life and ignore everything that happened with Lottie but they just keep seeing Lottie every day. It didn’t matter if they were barely getting up, if they were going to work, or if they were going to bed, she was always there, watching.

Random thought but like- what if Shauna and R! Bond over having dead, ghost gfs haunting them? Like- they’re just both talking and one of them just pauses before the other goes 'You’re seeingJackie/Lottie again, huh?' Anyways that’s all I got rn

— 🍵

im sorry i kinda ended up yapping about this....spoilers below obviously.

actually had a dream about going to shauna after finding out lottie died last night... you rly arent close to any of them because you were lottie's controversially younger partner, but you bonded with shauna the most. or maybe you just gravitated to her house because you were there when shauna kicked her out and its the first place you thought of going.

you try to hold everything in so you can ask to talk in private, but after jeff tells shauna you're here, and when she appears in the doorway, you just break down.

"shauna...." you whisper, choking on your sobs. you can hear her mumble an awkward "oh" and she walks forward to close the door for some privacy. you wipe the snot from your lips onto your jacket sleeve and try to form a sentence. "she...i found..." "are you okay? what's going on?" shauna spots the dried blood on your neck, and her heart pounds in her chest. she begins sweating. "lottie. lottie's gone. she-she's dead. i found her body." you can't even see shauna's body as you blurt everything out. you shake your head, not even believing the words you just said even though you saw her body. her dead body. you pull shauna in for a hug, crying and snotting into her shoulder as you repeat lottie's name over and over again.

anyway! onto your idea lolz. you first see lottie when you visit her compound to sign paperwork. you absolutely do not have the means or money to keep it going despite having some of her cash. it's horribly empty. it's scary. you avoid going to her office until you absolutely have to so you can get her things. she never finished cleaning it out after she got released from the facility. thinking about carrying her things in a box back to the car and seeing someone standing outside by the lake. you're just pissed off at anything after her death and get angry, placing the box on the ground as you stomp up to them and ask what the hell they're doing here.

they wont turn around so you grab their shoulder, and oh boy, imagine ur surprise when they turn around and it's fucking lottie. your dead girlfriend, in the flesh. blinking rapidly as you look at her... rubbing your eyes and telling her she's not real.

"am i?" she responds, and the hair on your entire body stands up. when you blink once more, she's gone.

maybe you keep seeing her pop up everywhere until you try to confront her. the reason why you can only see her for a split second was that you are in denial. but now it's rly hard to ignore the fact that you're definitely seeing your dead girlfriend everywhere.

maybe she's more like wilderness lottie :( the one you heard her talk about only briefly. the first thing you ask her is if she's okay and she tells you she's at peace 😭😭😭😭😭😭 lottie rubbing her thumb over your trembling lips and telling you she's sorry ouhguohsdudfs. just immediately crying when feeling her touch again, clinging to her body and telling her you miss her so much :(

again, maybe ur closer to shauna, and you trust her enough to go to her about seeing lottie. and you wouldn't have gone to her if it only happened a few times because it might've been normal, but actually talking to and feeling her? you think she'd understand. telling shauna you're kinda pissed at her and partially blame her and lottie shows up to tell you off 😭 asking shauna what to do when you start seeing lottie decaying? like flashes of her decaying body as you talk to her... shauna opening up justtt a bit about her seeing jackie and trying to help you thru it :(

[tkomptgoedluv]

tear you apart.

grumpycafeworkervampire! joost x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, internetcafe & vampire au, very much the ‘he hates everyone but her’ trope, even more so the ‘who did this to you?’ trope, reader’s boyfriend is an asshole and deserves everything he gets, joostie has a crush and it’s bad, light stalking, hurt angst and comfort all in one, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 5,040.

warnings: descriptions of an un-specific mental illness, cheating, descriptions of self harm, mentions of & scenes of DV, violence, gore, rpf.

notes: hello!! thank you guys so much for waiting on this even though it’s been over a month since we all lost our minds a little over vampire joost. i’m very proud of this one, even if the ending is kind of rushed, and i may or may not have already planned out parts 2 & 3 as well so please lemme know if you want a series out of this! (if you don’t say yes then juno might kill you btw). this fic also comes with a MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING so please read at your own risk and stay safe!

love you all lots — enjoy!! 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

the whole point of joost setting up his little internet cafe was that he needed something simple, for a while. something quiet, something normal. he needed to get away from his life with the band, and away from all of the blood and guts that came right along with it. for once, he wanted to be invisible.

that’s what the cafe was supposed to do for him; become an escape, of sorts. he wanted to spend all day, everyday, sat behind that desk of his, with earphones in his ears and a magazine in his hands. if someone needed help with one of the computers or something, then he’d do so, but only with a roll of his eyes and a scowl on his face. anything more than that and he’d flip them off, flash his fangs at them maybe, and laugh as they’d run out the door, screaming.

he didn’t want to talk to these people, his customers — a lot of them he actually couldn’t stand. they were messy and far too loud for his liking, always leaving their rubbish on the floor and shouting at each other. but at the very least they were simple, so he could handle teaching them how to find youtube and cleaning up after them if it meant that they’d all leave him alone. besides, he still had his ways of disposing of the ones that just wouldn’t behave themselves.

but then you had to come along, didn’t you?

you, with your big sad eyes and your soft, soft smile that was such a rarity to see. this plan of his, you were ruining it and you didn’t even know it.

joost could never admit it to himself, but he was a little infatuated with you. all you ever did was just sit in the corner, as far away from everyone else as you could possibly get, and stare at the computer screen until your eyes would grow too heavy. it made you such a stark contrast to the rest of them that joost couldn’t help but feel something towards you, even if he wouldn’t show it.

he found himself quickly learning your routine, making a note of how you only ever came in at night, no earlier than nine o’clock, and always left before the early hours of the morning. he had no choice but to notice how you always had the same heartbroken look on your face, with red-rimmed eyes and a frown pulling down at your lips. and he could never ignore how you only ever seemed to wear clothes that were at least a few sizes too big for you, always drowning in the fabric of old hoodies and sweatpants.

all of these little things that he couldn’t stop himself from knowing about you…well it was all a little bit weird, wasn’t it? because joost, he was yet to speak to you, to even acknowledge you, really. only when your back was turned would he ever dare to glance in your direction, and even then it was quick, only ever from the corner of his eye.

whatever this was, this thing joost had for you, it was starting to blur the lines between a normal, human crush and borderline stalking. that was why no matter what, it could never be anything more than just a few glances here and there. no matter what, he had to stay away.

joost wanted simple, and you just weren’t that.

but like all of his other plans, you had to go and ruin that one too, because then you started to smell.

not of anything bad, of course, just of blood. and to joost, everyone smelt like blood to some extent; it was one of the many consequences of his particular…lifestyle. he should’ve been used to it by then. the sweet, sweet smell of you shouldn’t have almost knocked him off of his chair when you walked in that day.

at first he just assumed it was nature taking its course; you were a girl after all, and it explained the constant grimace on your face. but after a week, the smell hadn’t gone away — now four months later, it was still there. if anything, it was only getting stronger.

like tonight, there you were, sat in your usual spot right by the window, and joost could smell it. he could barely concentrate on reading his magazine the way it was making his head spin and his heart race. for a human,

a scent like that wasn’t normal; despite his better judgment, joost found himself worrying about you.

even more so when you started to cry at your desk.

your head was down and your hands were hiding your face, muffling the sound. no one else around you could hear it, they were too engrossed in playing their silly little video games to really notice. but joost wasn’t like them, was he? he could hear it. he could hear it over the sound of a ‘SUM 41’ song playing on full blast in his ears, in fact.

it made him freeze in his seat, his hands grip the pages of his ‘SPICE’ magazine a little too tightly. then he looked over at you only because he knew that you wouldn’t see it, and caught a glimpse of your shoulders shaking slightly. the sight alone made his eyebrows crease and his knuckles turn white, but it was your small gasp of breath that made him growl.

everyone’s head turned at the sound as the click-clacking of the keyboards ceased, and suddenly joost had sixteen pairs of eyes all staring at him. the only one that hadn’t looked up was you, who merely flinched at the sudden noise as you finally lowered your hands, only to wipe your nose and go back to staring at your computer screen.

in slow movements, joost slammed his magazine down and kicked his feet up off of his desk, muttering a low ‘we’re closing, everyone get out.’ with a cigarette still hanging from his lips. when nobody moved he rose from his chair and stubbed out his cig into his garfield-shaped ashtray, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

that was all it took to get everyone up, shoving their shit into their pockets, and heading out the door. you went to stand as well, having already pulled your hood well up over your head in preparation for the hard-falling rain outside. but you stopped when you heard the guy at the reception desk clear his throat not just once but twice, his attention only on you as everybody else made their exits.

“not you, grey hoodie. you stay.”

joost could hear a ringing in his ears from how silent the room became once the last person had left, the cafe door swinging shut behind them, it’s sign now reading ‘closed: come again soon!”

there was a certain…hesitation behind the way that he moved closer to you. behind the way that he grabbed a new cigarette from his pack, letting it dangle between his lips as he pulled up a chair next to you. the absolute last thing that he wanted was to wind up scaring you, somehow, even if the look on your face told him that you already were.

joost could see you shaking, could see all of the tears welling up in your eyes no matter how many times you tried to blink them away. he could hear your heart hammering away inside your chest, the rush of warm blood inside your veins. for once, maybe for even the first time, joost was starting to regret having the reputation that he did.

“i know i’m not exactly known for my ‘outstanding customer service’, but i just want to make sure that you’re okay.” he paused only to take a drag of his cigarette, the ash falling down and dirtying the denim of his jeans. “are you okay?”

no, you really weren’t.

without a word you turned away to press the ‘on’ button of your computer screen, its cold, blue light casting a dark shadow across your face. it showed him exactly what you had been looking at before you’d tried to leave, having forgotten to properly log out first. whilst the receptionist leaned forward and squinted at the screen, you let your head hang low to hide the fresh tears that burned along your waterline.

you’d been scrolling through facebook rather aimlessly when you came across the picture. at first, you thought that it was just an old one someone had reshared simply for nostalgia sake; one of those ‘on this day five years ago’ type things. then you had seen that it had only been posted an hour ago, so you tried convincing yourself that it wasn’t actually him in the photo — even though he’d been tagged in the fucking thing.

whether you could accept it or not, it was very much him. it was him sucking on the neck of your best friend, at a party he insisted that you couldn’t go to.

“what exactly am i looking at here?”

but to joost, it was just a picture of what he guessed was a house party. the girls were half dressed, the guys were clutching onto their beer cans, and nobody in sight looked sober. not exactly something worth crying over, he thought.

“that’s uh, that’s my boyfriend right there…and that’s my best friend next to him.”

he didn’t say anything for a minute; he didn’t really know what to say. joost just kept glancing back and forth between you and the computer screen, with his lips ever so slightly parted and the cigarette between his fingertips long forgotten about. he understood it now, and couldn’t blame you for any of the tears running down your cheeks anymore.

“for what it’s worth, i’m sorry. dude’s a fucking scumbag for doing that to you.”

you merely chuckled, the laugh coming out all dry and hoarse. “you have no idea.”

it was a small comment, maybe just your own way of saying ‘yeah, i know’, but something about your choice of words made joost frown. he didn’t like the gut feeling it gave him, nor did he like the way he saw you flinch again, this time at the way he raised his hand, though only to toss his now burnt-out cigarette into the bin.

it was making him think, making him realise that, that definitely wasn’t the first time you’d reacted to something so minuscule like that. how even the slightest of movements normally had you ducking your head and cowering, with your shoulders all bunched up by your ears. and it was making him wonder if there was maybe another reason behind the clothes that you wore, besides how you just ran a little colder than the average person.

the crease in joost’s eyebrows deepened as he swivelled his seat more to face you rather than the computer, and rested a careful hand on your knee. as you looked up, he swapped his frown for a smile that you just about managed to mirror.

“i’m here if you wanna talk about anything, okay? i’m joost.”

when you told him your name back, he acted as though he hadn’t know what it was already.

the sudden ringing of your phone cut through the soft silence like a jagged knife, the sound of your shitty, pirated ‘AFI’ ringtone bringing a genuine smile to joost’s face as he got up to walk away. it was merely a formality at this point, stepping away to give someone a bit of ‘privacy’ whilst they took a phone call. joost could be all the way across the street and he’d still hear it, whether he was trying to or not.

although admittedly, this was one he was purposefully trying to eavesdrop on. he caught a glimpse of the caller ID — saw the bright red love heart next to the name ‘levi’. since it matched the name tagged in the photos, it was a safe assumption to presume it was the boyfriend calling.

he hoped to hear the guy grovel, begging on his knees for your forgiveness or at the very least offering you some kind of explanation. anything to prove this gut feeling of his wrong. but even the shouting from the other end of the line made joost wince, his palms starting to sweat as he began tidying up the other desks.

it started out as just pure name calling, accusing you of facebook-stalking his friends and not trusting him, that you were ‘fucking crazy’ and a ‘stupid little bitch’. then it became about how he’d already made it clear that you weren’t to go to the cafe tonight, not under any circumstances, and he could see online that you were.

joost really did try to busy himself, tried to grit his teeth and bear with what he was hearing this asshole scream at you. he wasn’t supposed to have been listening, anyway. he was supposed to have been staying away, like he was always meant to.

but he just couldn’t take it though, could he? he couldn’t handle hearing this boyfriend of yours threaten to beat you black and blue, and not for the first time this week. he had to storm across the room and snatch the phone right out of your hands, flipping it shut to disconnect the call. honestly, he probably would’ve smashed the fucking thing had you not taken it back from him and slipped it into your trouser pocket.

“tell me he didn’t mean that.”

you weren’t given a chance to scold him for his eavesdropping, even though you weren’t entirely sure how he was able to hear your conversation in the first place. joost was already staring you down, his arms crossed and chest heaving as he towered over you. you could almost feel the anger he radiated; see the darkening of his eyes and flare of his nostrils.

it was no wonder that you couldn’t look at him; you didn’t have the guts to.

“tell me he doesn’t fucking hit you.”

you couldn’t.

you couldn’t lie to him like that. you weren’t quite sure why, you were lying to everybody else in your life about it. he wasn’t the first to ask you that kind of question, and he wouldn’t be the last, either. but you just didn’t have it in you to try and feed him the same old bullshit that you always fed anyone else that asks you about it. chances were, he wouldn’t have believed it anyway.

so instead, you showed him. still with your eyes focused on the wall behind him, you peeled off that god-awful hoodie and let it fall to the floor, leaving you to shiver in a thin, white t-shirt. it exposed each and every single one of the bruises that levi had given you, both old and new, as well as those half-a-dozen little cuts that you’d given yourself.

you felt joost’s fingertips trail along every single one of the marks, gently brushing along the skin of your arms and only stopping once he reached your wrists. he hesitated then, though only because he didn’t want to hurt you anymore than you already had yourself. it was with such a delicate hold that he took your arms in his hands, turning them over in the light just so that he could see it all a little easier.

“this wasn’t him, was it?”

you already knew what he was referring to and so you shook your head, still too scared to meet his eyes. if you had, you would’ve seen his own tears welling up in his.

this was what he had been smelling. all those spots of blood pooling underneath your skin, slowly turning into bruises. the thin, red lines that ran up and down each one of your arms; some old and scabbed over, some not. all of it, every single mark, was why he could always smell so much blood on you.

joost didn’t even know he still knew how to cry, it had been so long. he hadn’t shed a tear in years; not since way before the…change. and you were the reason that streak was broken now, because he soon found himself dropping your arms to wipe the wet from his face, further smudging the dark eyeliner around his eyes.

“fuck, okay, we’re gonna…there’s a pull-out bed in the back, we’re gonna make you a bed for the night — for as long as you need. you’re not going back there.”

he was pacing around as he rambled, wiping the snot from his nose as he did so. by the time you’d pulled your hoodie back on he had a whole plan laid out for you, the kind that had you moving into the cafe, sleeping in the staff room, never to see your boyfriend again.

it was getting harder and harder to believe that this was the same guy that you’d heard so many horror stories about. all the gossip, the whispers, the rumours, they all painted joost out to be some kind of monster. yet here he was in tears over you, doing laps of the room with his hands pulling at his hair in a panic, all because he knew your secret now. knew that you’d been dealing with enough monsters of your own to know that he wasn’t one.

“why do you care, joost?” your voice betrayed you as you spoke because with each word it waivered, coming out all cracked and broken until you could barely say anything at all. “you don’t know me.”

“i do! i mean, i know enough to know that a guy like that is gonna fucking kill you one day and that can’t happen, okay? it can’t. do you understand that?”

in a moment of weakness he made his way back over to you and placed his hands on either side of your face, gently tilting your head up so you had no choice but to look at him. under the warm, yellow lights of the cafe you could see every ounce of fear in his eyes, feel the shake in his hands as he tucked loose strands of hair behind your ears.

“i’m sorry. i know that this is a lot and you don’t really know me like that but i need you to trust me, liefde. i’m gonna keep you safe, i promise.”

just like that, every single one of those little promises that he’d made himself about staying away from you, gone.

you found yourself nodding before you’d really even given a thought to what it was you were actually agreeing to. just as long as joost kept looking at you like that, you’d probably agree to anything.

“okay, okay, that’s good. just…stay here, alright? i’ll be right back.”

you blinked, and you were alone.

the staff room door was open ajar now, with a dimmer, yellow light spilling out. there was a lot of faint rustling around; a few little bangs and crashes followed by some muffled swearing. besides that and the rain hitting against the cafe windows, it was silent — almost eerily so.

it gave you the space to actually try to understand what it was that was happening. joost was back there setting up that bed for you, turning the cafe's staff room into a makeshift bedroom, just as he promised. you wouldn’t be going home tonight, not tomorrow, maybe not ever. as for levi? it was hard to wrap your head around the fact that you weren’t ever going to see him again.

you took a seat back at your desk, closing each one of your tabs and logging out of whatever websites that you needed to. myspace, youtube, facebook; you had to stop and stare when that fucking picture popped up again.

calling her your best friend was a stretch, she was always more his friend than she ever was yours, but still, it stung. besides joost now, she was the only one who knew your secret, who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and seen him hit you so hard it knocked you clean off your feet. she still convinced you to stay, giving you the exact same excuses for it that levi did.

he was always stressed and going through something that you just wouldn’t understand, and you were always the one making him feel worse, so it really couldn’t be his fault then, could it?

you were just about to close that very last tab, the cursor hovering over the big red ‘x’ in the top right-hand corner, when the front door swung back open. the sudden ding of the electronic doorbell made you jump, as did the bang of the door frame slamming against the wall. you heard his voice before you saw him standing there on the worn-out welcome mat, soaking wet and seething.

“i fucking knew you were here.”

levi.

even from where you were sitting you could smell the alcohol on him, see the glazed-over look in his bloodshot eyes. peaking out from the collar of his jacket were small, dark hickies dotted all across his neck and there was a faint smudge of pink smeared across his bottom lip. he hadn’t even had the decency to clean himself up, to wipe the last speck of her literal fucking lipstick from off of his face.

“you little fucking bitch, what did i say to you, huh? i told you to stay home. why is it that you can’t ever fucking listen?”

“i’m not doing this with you, levi.”

he laughed at what you said, more so chuckled, darkly underneath his breath. he always found it funny when you tried to talk back to him, refusing to do whatever it was he demanded or throwing back any of his endless insults right back at him. it didn’t happen often because when it did, you’d pay for it.

“oh yeah? you’re not gonna ‘do’ this with me? who the fuck do you think you are to say that to me?” when you didn’t say anything else and turned away from him, deciding to instead face the now black screen of your computer, he continued. “cmon, get the fuck up, we’re going home.”

you didn’t move. you focused on your breathing, focused on the feeling of the grey cotton between your fingers as you played with the fraying threads of your hoodie’s sleeves.

“i’m not talking to myself here. i said get up!”

levi’s voice bellowed from all the way across the room and you could’ve sworn that it made the keyboards shake. still, you stayed exactly where you were, making it clear to him that you weren’t going to be going anywhere tonight — especially not home, especially not with him.

being ignored like this was almost worse than anything you could’ve possibly said back to him. you've never done that before, never tried to disobey him quite so outrightly. you had always been one to break as soon as he’d raise his voice, a shadow of a smirk curling the corners of his lips as he’d dare you to say whatever it was again.

only this time, you weren’t saying anything at all, and he really didn’t like that.

his strides over to you were so quick that you didn’t have any time at all to react before you were being yanked out of your seat and dragged back over to the door. you were tripping over all of the other chairs as you tried to pull your arm free, begging for him to stop and to let you go whilst he dug his nails deeper into the flesh of your forearm.

it hadn’t even occurred to you that the background noise of joost moving furniture around couldn’t be heard anymore, that the staff room door was no longer closed ajar and instead now wide open. it hadn’t even occurred to you, not until levi was being teared away from you, leaving behind a small rip in your hoodie and faint claw marks in your skin.

from where you were standing now, you couldn’t see much anymore. tall, broad shoulders became the barrier that separated you from levi, keeping you hidden away from him. you weren’t sure how long joost had been back there listening, how he was able to intervene so quickly or how he had the strength to toss your boyfriend almost to the other side of the room. you were just grateful for it, for him, and tightly clutched onto one of his arms so that he couldn’t disappear on you again.

“woah, what the fuck is this? who the fuck are you?”

levi had knocked into a couple of desks as he stumbled but eventually found his footing, his leather jacket hanging off of his shoulders from where joost had yanked at it. he shrugged it back on, eyes glued onto and glaring at the man you were cowering behind. neither of you expected him to start laughing like how he did, a deep, bitter chuckle that somehow made the air around you feel colder.

“so this is what she’s been doing here all this time, huh? been fucking around with some freak behind my back?”

“get out.”

there was no laughter in joost’s voice, no humour peaking through the cracks of his expression. there was only a silent begging behind his anger, a slight pleading in his words because joost already knew how this would end if levi didn’t turn on his heel and run.

but levi just wasn’t one to listen, was he?

instead he made a beeline for what was now your bedroom, supposedly, with no regard for the ‘staff only’ sign that was stuck to the door. without even taking a full step inside he could see the sofa bed that had been pulled out for you, decorated with scattered cushions and a messed up, old white duvet. it didn’t matter that it actually wasn’t what it looked like, because he’d already made his mind up and seeing that was all the ‘proof’ that he needed.

so levi wasn’t laughing anymore as he slowly turned around, now in a position where you were in his full view. he could see how you had yourself wrapped around joost’s arm, almost hugging it, and was starting to shrink under his gaze. he stared you both down for a moment before he locked eyes with you, his teeth gritted and jaw twitching.

“you fucking whore, you’re so fucking dead -”

he’d charged at you with one hand balled up into a fist and the other stretched out, a single finger pointing right at you. you jumped back and away from joost, your arms up and shielding your head as you turned away and readied yourself to feel it. a hard knee to the stomach, a sharp pull at your hair, something.

you only moved again when you heard a small whimper; an impossibly pathetic sound that you’d never heard before, but one that only levi could have made. you lowered your arms and raised your head, and immediately crashed into the desk behind you, choking on a cry that became lodged in your throat.

joost; sweet, misunderstood joost had his hand plunged inside levi’s chest, his fingers wrapped around and squeezing at his heart. those once soft blue eyes of his were now a deep, glowing shade of red, and as he grinned, you caught a glimpse of two long, sharp fangs. blood stained his lips and dribbled down his chin as he took a chunk out of levi’s neck, swallowing down every last piece of flesh and spitting out the odd little bone.

and he started to moan into it with each large gulp that he took, becoming so lost in the pleasure of it all that for just a moment, he seemed to forget that you were there. it had just been so long since he’d last indulged like this — feeling that warm rush of blood slide down the back of his throat, the heavy pulse of his prey slowly growing weaker and weaker.

joost didn’t stop until whatever was left of levi’s head was in one hand and his still heart was in the other, his body already turning cold at his feet. he easily could have stayed there for a little while longer, gone in for seconds and thirds perhaps, when he finally hears you. he hears you choking on your tears, on the single breath that you were holding.

you hadn’t been able to look away even though you had so desperately wanted to; you could feel the image of levi standing there all helpless, his mouth bobbing up and down as he tried so hard to scream out, burning into your eyes.

“liefde?…”

his voice was so gentle, sounding almost frightened, and yet you still jumped when joost finally spoke. he was just standing there staring at you, eyes all wide, with blood smeared across his face and splattered across his button-up shirt. even as he stood above the body parts of your boyfriend, joost somehow looked small now, like a dog that had been found chained to a fence for a few too many days.

for every step that he tried to take towards you, you took another five back, carefully inching your way closer and closer towards the front door as you did so. you could see it start to click in his head, the welling up of tears in his eyes as he glanced back and forth between you and the door.

“no no no, please, please don’t do that. i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry. please, i’m not gonna hurt you, please don’t go.”

joost took another step forward and you shrieked, bumping hard into the wall behind you, scraping your elbow against the brick. you hadn’t needed to say anything after that, hadn’t needed to beg for him to let you go because you watched him recoil, his hands held up in surrender.

you took one last look at levi, at what was left of him.

“fuck, i didn’t…i’m so sorry, liefde.”

and you ran, without ever looking back.

[spitfirerose]

Been looking at PLZA theories and speculations, so here's my own two cents.

Buckle up, kids. In this essay, I will...

Explain that you can't have a game set in Kalos feat. AZ & Floette without the Ultimate Weapon. Let's say the Urban Redevelopment Project is being used by our potential villain(s) to accomplish their goals under the radar. Do they want to become immortal by being within its radius? Bring back someone from the dead? Or perhaps wish to wipe an entire region off the map? Are they working alone, or is someone else manipulating them and using their power and influence to get what *they* want, since they wouldn't be able to on their own?

Whichever the case, the Ultimate Weapon *needs* Pokémon as a power source. *A lot* of Pokémon. It sure would be convenient to have a full supply of "wild" Pokémon available in the City to harvest at their leisure. No one would notice them missing. They're meant to be captured, after all. Perhaps these strange disappearances are investigated by Looker & Emma, especially if people's Pokémon begin to vanish as well (the aforementioned "incidents" occurring in the City). And hey, if those Pokémon aren't enough, there's always that peculiar Floette said to have lived for thousands of years. She could probably recharge the Ultimate Weapon as many times as desired. All the villain(s) need to do is lure her away from AZ. They could do it themselves, or enlist the aid of a certain rival that just happens to live and work there, and is just so, so happy to support their boss with whatever he needs.

Secret villain Urbain/Taunie and my life is yours. Seriously, their names are literally a reference to the Project. It is time, GameFreak. Everyone and their mothers suspect Jett & Vinnie, it would be perfect.

Anyway.

You may be wondering what purpose will Xerneas and Yvetal serve in the meantime? In X and Y, the Legendaries were used by Team Flare to start up the Ultimate Weapon (unlike AZ who didn't need them). There's any number of ways for them to return (Hoopa shenanigans, XY Protag released them, there's more than one, etc.), and since this is a Legends game, both will be available. If one villain wishes to revive a beloved companion, they may be after Xerneas. The other wishing for death and destruction will have their sights on Yvetal. Just like with deciding to team up with the Diamond/Pearl Clan to ultimately determine if Dialga or Palkia are caught first, it will be up to the player to decide what order they want to rescue the Legendaries in.

It doesn't really matter though, since the lives of people and Pokémon will be at stake regardless of player choice. That's where Zygarde comes in, except this time Squishy is not our friend. All of Lumiose City *will* be destroyed if Complete Form Zygarde isn't stopped from trying to clean up the true villain's mess (by creating an even bigger one, of course). It's up to you, the player, to deform Voltron and save the day. Maybe with a little villain redemption while everyone takes shelter in Hotel Z....as a treat.

As a bonus, it's revealed that the reason Zygarde took an interest to you at the start (aside from being the Chosen One™️) is that you remind them of the XY Protag aka your half-sibling. I see you, Sycamore and Grace. I see you.

Anyway that concludes this essay. It's too cool of a concept to be canon because they're all cowards, but damn if it wouldn't be incredible, game-of-the-year material.

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Okay guys REALISTICALLY what gates and theories do you want to become real Byler moments in s5? I’ll go first.

— Will Byers and Holly Wheeler bonding and Mike absolutely meltinggg yes please (bro is so cooked)

— Will and Mike babysitting Holly, they start flirting and that’s one of the reasons Holly disappeares. Mike ofc blames himself for getting distracted and carried away with his flirting and VOILA! ANGSTTT (Mike Queerler blaming himself for acting queer and seeing Holly’s disappearance as a punishment from some higher power for being gay)

— I want the moment Will sees Mike’s new haircut so baddd you guys don’t understand. “You look… it looks great, Mike” AIDHWKHDKWHRKAHSJWHRJIWEU

— Byler hugs come home, we miss you. Byler hugs. Home. Byler. HUGS. Byler HUGS. HUGGIES AND CUDDLINGGG

— One of them in the hospital and the other by his bedside and he gives him a forehead kiss while he sleeps <3 (idk where I got this from to begin with but it hasn’t left my mind since)

— Byler cleaning each other’s wounds in the green house at at Lover’s Lake

— AN ALMOST KISS AND I TRULY CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. ALSO DID I MENTION AN ALMOST KI- *gunshots*

— That pic of Finn sitting in a room with wide open yellow curtains right behind him, looking troubled as the light falls on him…? Yeah. I want to see whatever revelations Mike’s having in that scene (hmm I wonder what they might be about…) CLEARLY on his face! I want to see the “Oh. Oh.” moment in action. (Although I think he’s already had his oh OH moment in s3 and/or s4 so maybe that’s not what’s going on in this scene, but still I want 🤌EMOTIONS🤌✨)

— Chill Mileven breakup on the rooftop, Mike immediately moving on to talk about how worried he is for Will and El immediately clocking his shit but keeping it to herself

— The bullies that used to bully the Party back in the days teasingly call Mike “Zombie Boy’s Boyfriend” and he doesn’t bat an eye, but then they shove Will into a locker or something with no intention of picking a fight and Mike IS NOT HAVING IT… fighting ensues and punches are thrown and Wheelers are beaten black and blue ❤️ (Go bad bitch go bad bitch go)

— SCENES LIKE THE ROVICKIE SCENE MAKINV SANDWITCGES BUT BYLERRR

— CHURCHGATE! Will is possessed and choking Mike, Mike is literally dying but smiles a lil smile through his tears and taps “I love you” into Morse code against Will’s wrist in what he thinks is his last moments… little does he know that’s what saves Will and also himself! Hooray! 🥰 (For now I might add, it’s far from over innit) (Also I just saw a post about how actions speak louder than words in ST and that Byler probably won’t say out loud — or tap — ily to each other. Alternatively Mike taps “crazy together”? But I’m also not too big on the GIVE-US-THROWBACKS-TO-PREVIOUS-SEASONS-AND-THEIR-BYLER-MOMENTS stuff so… yk what idk but Mike IS using morse code to snap Will out of it because I SAID SO!)

— Y’all this is smth I made up myself in a late night Byler scenario once and never shared (I thenk) so it’s technically not a hate but: yk how the only part of Will not possessed in s2 (the one hand he used to tap messages in morse code to the others) was the hand Mike held earlier on in the season? Well, what if that’s the key to snap him out of his possession temporarily? Idk how Mike figures it out, maybe he connects the dots somehow and just goes with it, but picture this: Will is possessed, fighting back as Mike holds him close and just — touches him. NOTHING SEXUAL! Just, the sensuality of it? Mike holding Will close after ages of not properly hugging him, running his hands through his hair and over his backs and shoulders and arms and yeee Will slowly starts to regain control over his body, all whilst still spitting things that undeniably sting. Because yk. Vecna and allat. So it’s like Mike is being Vecna’s but it’s real, but it’s also not real because Will doesn’t mean that and he’s not even the one saying those things, it’s Vecna. And then ig Mike maybe… KISSES Will in the end to stop him from talking and give him back the ability to speak freely too? Idk just a thought DONT MIND ME GUYS THE LATE NIGHT SCENARIOS BE LIKE THAT OKAY DONT JUDGEEE IM A SAP AND A SUCKER FOR NON-SEXUAL INTIMACY

— Let’s ignore that lost thing I wrote kay? REALISTICALLY: I don’t want the kiss to be the love confession. Yk? Make them happen on two separate occasions. Love confession first, kiss on a later occasion, because yk what they say: if a kiss is needed to confess ur love then is it rlly love? The confession shall be in the form of WORDS

— Byler get Lucas-and-Dustin’d buttttt it’s discreet, like when Jonathan let Will know that he knew he was gay and in love with Mike in s4 but without explicitly saying it! And this could happen somewhere at the end of the season, maybe they speak to Will and Mike on separate occasions, maybe with both of them at the same time, yk anything works

— ROBIN BONDING WITH THEM BOTH AND CLOCKING THEIR SHITTT but she speaks to them both without the other one present

— Y’all have heard about “Painting? What painting?” before, now get ready for “You know… the painting I gave you before?” “Mhm?” “It was from me. And— me only. El didn’t commission it.” “Just like she didn’t commission that speech you gave me?” “Huh?” “Will. I know the painting was from you. I knew this whole time.” (I am a MIKE WHEELER ISNT FUCKING OBLIVIOUS HE KNEE WHAT THE GELL WAS GOING ON HE WAS JUST CONFLICTED AYDJWKDJEJ truther always and forever. Oh and this conversations happens while Will and Mike are in an established relationship btw.)

— This isn’t rlly Byler but WILL COMING OIT TO JOYCE AND JOYCE BEING THE QUEEN SHE IS AND ACCEPTING HIMMM tears are shed and hugs are given. Wholesomeness. Just.. Yes.

— “What’s gay?” (Again not rlly Byler but I love El too much not to include this in this list)

— BYLER SHARING CLOTHESSS (Mike’s sweaters being too small for Will but he wears them anyways and Mike DIES every time — yes plss)

— BYLER! SHARING! A BED! Because Will had a nightmare once and “Oh for fuck’s— this is getting stupid. Just— just get up here already, Will.” “Huh? What?” “Get into the bed or you’ll have the back of an old man when you’re twenty/Get in or you’ll freeze to death”… just THEM ATXGWKDJEKKEIE (not me crashing out— mb y’all this post is chaos now and i rule it) And then they just never stop sharing a bed <3

— Them bonding over their shared music taste! (“Smalltown Boy and Boys Don’t Cry? I love those songs!”)

— To be added onto ❤️

[buggs-and-beasts]

Images are not mine, I found them on Pinterest

No Stone Unturned (p2)

Summary: The last thing she needs is the Winter Soldier crashing on her couch. It’s only a matter of time before someone tracks him down to her apartment, the only place he visits more than once. All she can do is hope Hydra doesn’t get their first, or if they do, that they kill her before they recognize her.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female OC/Reader

Chapter Warnings: no use of y/n, mentions of canon typical violence and torture, descriptions of physical injuries, invasions of privacy, mind and memory reading reader, depictions of mental illness and flashbacks, cursing, recovery focused, Steve Rogers haunts the narrative, implied abuse, Brock Rumlow mentioned (ew)

Word Count: 2908

Guardian Angel

He’s in her shower, watching his diluted almost-pink blood swirl down the drain when his mind catches back up to his body.

He hadn’t even thought about it when she’d suggested he take a warm shower while she fixes up breakfast, he’d just blindly obeyed. And now he was alone and naked, surrounded by all sorts of mysterious bottles and containers, his weapons still abandoned on the armchair in the other room.

He cautiously picks up the bottles she’d pointed out to him when she’d started the water for him. She said they were ‘shampoo and conditioner’, whatever the fuck conditioner was he couldn’t be sure, but shampoo was familiar enough albeit a distant memory. Flicking open the cap the soft scent of wildflowers and honey wafts up to him. He sighs and settles a little as he rubs the relaxing smell into his hair, letting his eyes shut and his mind to wander into a field of flowers, marigolds like the ones on her counter.

He can hear her in the other room, she’s humming along to an upbeat song.

Next is the bodywash, another bottle she’d shown him. The bodywash is gentler, unscented. For the first time in nobody-knows-how-long he’s scrubbing layers of dirt and blood and sweat off his skin. There’s something indescribable about feeling clean, just scrubbing muck out from under his nails is like lifting an elephant off his chest.

His hands pause at the raised lines on his core, fingers softly running over the edges of the uneven stitches. He peaks down at them. They’re imperfect but not bad, add in his advanced healing factor and he’d be able to pull out the thread in a week, maybe week and a half.

He returns to scrubbing, cleaning off every inch of himself with relentless dedication as a realization gradually dawns on him. Being covered in blood, sweat and dirt, slowly bleeding out after collapsing wherever he’d managed to drag himself, it was normal to him but to anyone else….

Why hadn’t she called the police? Or an ambulance?

Questions are bubbling up inside him, cramming more and more into the already crowded space in his head.

Had she recognized him? He couldn’t decide if that made more sense or less. Sure, it might explain why she didn’t call for help, but it would make her dragging him into her apartment then crashing in the same room as him even more nuts. She hadn’t even bothered to hide his weapons, as if she was confident he was no threat to her. She had no reason to be so confident, so brave, and she didn’t seem stupid enough to not recognize the obvious risks he came with.

This girl must have a death wish.

That’s all he could land on as he turned off the water, stepping out into the steam filled bathroom and grabbing the soft towel she’d left for him. Beneath it is a small pile of clothes, left intentionally for him to pull onto his now softer, cleaner skin.

The sweatpants are barely wide enough for him to squeeze into and significantly too short, the cuffs at the end of each leg sitting stretched out halfway up his calves. The shirt fits better, although the printed ‘Plant Mom’ text pulls wider over his broad chest, and the still packaged fuzzy socks slip onto his feet perfectly, even if he cringes a little as he pulls off the cardboard.

The second he steps out of the bathroom he’s overwhelmed by the warm smell of baking, an upbeat song spilling out of the kitchen alongside soft humming. He takes a second to breathe it all in, the quiet domesticity of it all nearly knocking him off his feet.

When he turns the corner into the living space he’s struck by how her hair is pulled up into a messy bun at the top of her head and the warm yellows and oranges of the floral dress she’s changed into. She turns to great him, wiping her hands on her apron as she does so.

“You have perfect timing, I only just finished them,” he glances down to the plate she’s setting onto the island, catching a glimpse of her vase of marigolds, now moved over to the sink.

Pancakes. She’d made him pancakes.

“Juice, tea, or coffee?”

The breakfast on it’s own is disorienting enough, an authentic question combined with an invitation to want something is the final straw. He seizes up, body frozen just in front of her wooden barstools. She has to see it, has to notice his stiffness and the seconds ticking into minutes of silence, but she doesn’t react. She’s just standing there smiling, only moving to retrieve the kettle after it dings.

“Is it orange juice?” As if it was possible the smirk across her lips only widens, head nodding carefully as she pours hot water into her own mug. “I like orange juice,” the words weren’t meant to come out of his mouth, more a thought of his own as he grapples with a bizarre craving for something he can’t recall the taste of.

“Perfect!” The cup is in front of him, cool and refreshing, just waiting for him to drink it.

He’s somehow surprised at the familiar sweetness and the bright citrus in his throat. It tastes like Saturday mornings, listening to baseball games over the radio, watching a smaller blonde man draw buildings and people. It’s so overwhelmingly comfortable and easy it knocks the wind out of him.

“I should go.” The words surprise him just as much as it does her.

She sits down next to him, stirring her tea. “Look out the window.” He glances out, past the frozen fire escape, at the heavy snowfall. When he looks back she’s mindlessly massaging her hands in repetitive, practiced motions. “It’s freezing out there, won’t stop snowing until things warm up this afternoon.” She takes a sip, then pulls out the tea bag. “Your clothes are approaching threadbare with no layers of insulation, your shoes and socks have holes, you clearly haven’t eaten in days. If you go out there before the storm passes you’ll be lucky to only lose a couple fingers and toes.”

“You want me to stay?”

“I tried pretty hard to keep you from dying last night, I’d hope I bought you more than just one day.” She’s calmly eating a bite of pancake now. She knows he’s not going to leave.

Fuck it, he knows he won’t leave too, not right now. So instead he sits, and starts taking bites from his own plate.

“Are you an angel or something?”

“I think your real guardian angel is the cat,” she talks with her mouth still slightly full, a playful look in her eye, “I never would’ve seen you if she hadn’t led me down that alley.”

“Doctor or nurse?” She looks up at him, an eyebrow raised, “The stitches.”

She laughs, a bubbly but substantial sound, like the church bells by his childhood home. Bells he couldn’t recall just a moment ago. All he wants is to hear more of it.

“I used to sew.”

“Used to?”

“My hands aren’t as steady as they once were,” a heaviness creeps into her voice as she talks about it, the minute change cracking his heart just a tad. “I do mostly machine stuff now but it doesn’t scratch the itch like hand sewing did.” He wants to press, but he knows better, instead letting her pull the conversation to more comfortable waters. “How about I see what I can do in the way of mending your clothes?”

“That would great.”

—

She spent hours painstakingly mending his clothes with patches and thread in front of the crackling fire. She reinforced areas, closed holes, wove thread through the fabric like a new layer of cotton. Every once in a while she’d have him try them on again, telling him to check how they fit, to test his range of motion and see if any new seams bothered him.

She’d shown him how to use her laptop in the meantime, opening a ‘incognito’ window she said would hide what he looked at from her.

“My only request is if you’re gonna watch porn please do it in the bathroom.” That had made him laugh, he can’t remember ever doing that before.

Once he understood how the ‘Google’ worked, and what it could do, he got to work. He pulled the small, battered notebook from his bag, his memories in the palm of his hand. He started with the few names of Hydra agents he’d managed to write down, frantically scrawling down any information he could find on them. She’d moved on to adding extra insulation to his jacket when he finally gave in and and searched for the person he wanted to know the most.

Captain America. Steve.

He’d survived the airship. He’d survived.

And that was all that mattered.

—

He hadn’t noticed when the snow stopped falling, he was too entranced watching her slowly fix and alter his clothes with impossible care he couldn’t possibly deserve. He couldn’t stay, even if he wanted to, so he changed back into his tactical gear and attached layers upon layers of weapons to his body. He wanted to argue when she’d packed food and clothes into a sturdy bag for him, but one stern look from her soft features was enough to silence him.

Now she’s leading him out of her apartment and down the stairs. With every step down the thin, tall steps all he can picture is her pulling his entire weight up three fucking stories after dragging him from whatever alleyway he’d collapsed in.

She must be a lot stronger than she looks.

Every inch of him is filling with dread as they reach the bottom and leave the building, blinding reflections off fallen snow reminding him of the harshness of the real world. He’d been living inside a fantasy, and the stifling grasp of reality is crashing into him.

“Well,” she’s shifting uncomfortably on her feet, “It was nice meeting you, um,”

It hadn’t occurred to him before this second that she didn’t know his name. She seemed to know him so well, to understand him in a way someone he’d known less than 24 hours just couldn’t.

“James.”

“It was nice meeting you, James.”

He still has so many questions, things he didn’t have time to ask but has to know. Even if they had the time, could he ask them?

Has she done this before?

Would she do this again?

The idea of her carrying and patching up someone else has his chest tightening, red rising up his neck and face. It’s a strange feeling, an odd sort of burning, aching, discomfort that he can’t name but it has his muscles tensing up. He can’t help but turn back.

“Don’t do this again.” Anyone else could’ve killed her, hell, he could’ve killed her. “People can be dangerous.”

“You turned out fine.” She’s rubbing at her hands again, a hesitant smirk playing across her lips. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes up. Instead he swallows the lump in his throat, a lump that’s begging him to disagree.

“An exception, not the rule.” He clenches his jaw. “Stick to stray cats and dogs, not stray people.”

“Noted.”

He really needs to leave, at the very least he can’t risk being out in the open like this for so long.

“Hey,” he pauses again at the sound of her shaking, quiet voice, “if you’re ever in town again,”

“Careful Angel,” his voice is so smooth and effortless, a flirty air to it he can’t comprehend as he begins to turn and walk away, “your halo’s showing.”

—

She’s quick to close the apartment door behind her, locking it and leaning back into it. With a sigh, she slides down it, sitting on the floor at the door’s base and running her fingers through her hair. The cat is sniffing at her but she is barely aware of the whiskers tickling her knees as she pulls them into her chest.

Did she really just tell him he could come back?

One night with the world’s most wanted man in her tiny apartment was dangerous enough, if he returned the risk would only grow exponentially. Part of her knew he wouldn’t come back anyways, so what’s it even matter what she’d offered.

Ghosts like him don’t go anywhere twice, if he came back it could be bad for both of them.

Some deep, dark, lonely part of her wants to cry at the thought. It hates the idea that their first and last meeting would be one and the same, that the sparse comfort of someone who understands, even if he doesn’t know he does, would vanish just as suddenly as it appeared.

She could hate it all she wanted to, but it had to happen.

Soon he’ll be just a memory, and maybe it’s better that way, she’s good with memories. It would hurt less soon, once she readjusted to her self-enforced quarantine. At the end of the day, she knew for certain that complete isolation for the rest of forever would be infinitely better than Hydra, than Brock, finding her.

If only knowing that was enough to stop the tears gliding down her cheeks and the sobs building in her chest.

—

It had been one whole month since he’d woken up on her couch and every last token of his brief time in her apartment was gone. His hair didn’t smell like wildflowers and honey, the thread she’d sewn him up with was gone and the wound was healed. They had all been precious symbols, reminders that he’s welcome somewhere even if he couldn’t ever go back, but now they were gone.

Even worse, his damaged and confused brain could only produce fractured images of her apartment, of her. He had no choice but to grip onto the few pieces that remained, the unconscious way she massaged her hands, the bright smile and gentle voice, the deep knowing eyes, the vase of marigolds on her counter. His angel was fading away from him, slipping through his fingers and pulling any comfort he felt with her.

He knew he couldn’t go back. Every repeat visit could only make him easier to track down, and if they tracked him down to her place there’d be no telling what they’d do to her.

She may have a death wish but he wouldn’t risk granting it.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t question where he was going as his feet led him away from his latest mission, a Hydra facility burning to the ground behind him. He just let them take him, let instinct guide him through cleaning himself up. He was just pulling his hair back and up to keep it out of his face, not to look nicer. He needed new clothes, why not pick out a blue Henley for between missions. If it brought out the blue in his eyes that was only a coincidence, just a by product of getting a comfortable shirt in his favorite color.

When he stopped at a flower stand, drawn in by the golden ruffle of familiar flowers, he had to stop pretending he wasn’t wandering closer and closer to her apartment. Still, it was just to drop off the flowers, an anonymous thank you for everything she’d done for him a month ago. All he had to do was pick the lock to get into the building, set the flowers in front of her door, knock, and hide somewhere he could watch her receive them without being noticed. He’d even scouted out his hiding spot. Surely all he needed was one glance of her, just to refresh his memory of what an divinity on earth looked like.

Now he’s here, on her doorstep flowers in hand. He knocks, once, twice, three times.

He knows he should set the vase down and hide but he can’t. He can’t move at all. He’s frozen right in front of her apartment, unable to will himself to slip away when the one person he couldn’t get out of his head all month is so close.

The door swings open with a creak.

She’s gorgeous, flushed cheeks and plump lips and vibrant smile. Her hair is pulled into two braids, one behind her back and the other resting on her shoulder. She’s wearing a dress, a deep forest green dress that lands just above her knees with a little white collar peaking out of the neckline. She’s barefoot, the seam of her hazy white tights covering her black painted toenails.

He can’t help but notice she’s surprised to see him, maybe a little confused, a little worried but she shakes those off quickly.

“You’re back.” He feels impossibly vulnerable under her gentle gaze, exposed as if he was stark naked.

“I-” he pushes the vase closer to her. “I wanted to say thank you.”

“Marigolds,” her smile brightens, blinding and beautiful like staring into the sun. She pushes the door open a little further, moving to the side as if inviting him in. His body moves without him again, stepping back into the warm, bright apartment. Any tension left within him melts the moment he breaks through the threshold. One word comes to mind before he can stop it.

Home.

[misakiisstupid]

no. i'm giving you thirteen reasons why.

13 Reasons Why Dick Grayson Should NOT Grow His Hair Out

It’s a “Nightwing” nightmare waiting to happen – You can’t have your hair getting in the way when you’re fighting crime. Nightwing’s already a walking (or swinging) disaster with his acrobatics—don’t make it worse with a hairstyle that screams "I’m too busy for a comb."

Let’s be real, Bruce would never approve – Bruce Wayne is picky about everything. If Dick showed up with a full mane, Bruce would probably have a Bat-titude and give him a "talk" about keeping his hair under control. “No distractions, Dick!”

The "Robin" aesthetic just doesn’t work with a mullet – Remember, Dick was the original Robin—he can’t exactly rock a flowing hairstyle and still look like the boy wonder. It’s like taking a classic DC hero and turning him into a 80s villain. Robin doesn’t need bangs, just bangs of justice.

Crisis of Style – If you think about it, a hair crisis is worse than any actual Crisis in the multiverse. Imagine Dick Grayson caught in a full-on bad hair day during an important mission? Now that’s a true tragedy.

Wouldn’t fit in with the Batfamily's clean-cut aesthetic – The Batfamily has a certain vibe. Bruce, Tim, and Jason all have short, sleek hair. We’re a team, not a 90s boy band. Growing his hair out would ruin the Batman brand. Can you imagine Robin and a rock star?

It would be a hair-raising experience – Dick’s hair might just get in the way when he’s swinging from rooftops. Let’s be honest, trying to grapple with long hair flying around is probably the worst superhero accessory.

More hair = more enemies to fight off – Not only does Dick have to fight bad guys, now he’ll have to fight off tangles and knots. Villains aren’t the only ones who’ll be attacking him—his hairbrush will join the battle too.

Alfred will have to work overtime – Alfred already has enough to do, keeping the Batcave running and making sure Bruce eats something other than protein bars. Do you really want to burden him with Dick’s hair routine too?

His enemies already call him "bird boy" – Let’s not give them more ammo. Can you imagine the jokes if his hair started looking like it belonged in a bird’s nest? They’re already mocking him enough; no need to give them new material.

He's already got enough to juggle—don’t add hair styling – Dick Grayson is busy as hell. He’s got to juggle being a hero, a leader, and someone who constantly tries to keep Batman from falling apart. Do we really need to add a salon appointment to his to-do list?

A little windblown goes a long way – Can you even imagine the damage a strong Gotham wind would do to long hair? One Batstorm and Dick’s looking like a mess. He’s already got a reputation for chaos—let’s not add “hair disaster” to that.

Let’s keep the "Grayson" sharp, not frizzy – Dick is sleek. He’s smooth. He’s the definition of agility and grace. But grow his hair out? He’s more likely to look like a disheveled, confused version of his usual self. And nobody wants that awkward Grayson.

He’s no Superman with the hair – Dick Grayson is the first to admit that his role in the Batfamily is to lead the charge. He doesn’t need to channel any Superman vibes—his strength isn’t in his hair. It’s in his heart, his determination, and his definitely not messy hairstyle.

What if I went back to having longer hair?

[blessedmisery]

summary: choi jong-in x fem!reader - what happens when you mix business with pleasure? warnings: dirty talk, pnv, unprotected sex, fingering, dubcon kinda, praise kink, reader is oblivious. authors note: this man is criminally underrated. we need more of him. let this fic be a pivotal moment for us all. ty for reading, likes and reblogs always appreciated <3

choi jong-in was a very successful man.

everyone knew this. he was one of south korea's most powerful s-rank hunters, and the guild master of south korea's most powerful guild, the hunters guild. don't be mistaken though, being known as ‘the ultimate hunter’ was no easy task. choi jong-in was under contstant pressure of having to keep up his public appearances on behalf of his entire guild, and balance the enormous workload of being the top guild master in the country. there was no denying it—he was indeed successful but he was also very busy. so that's why he hired you. as his personal assistant, having you around was most helpful to him. within a few days of your hire, you managed to cut his own workload in half and thanks to you, he was able to take the smoke breaks he so desperately needed during his work day and he was finally able to get home at a reasonable hour of the night. it was safe to say that you were his salvation.

you stood in front of his office door, wearing your regular office uniform, holding a thick stack of papers. jong-in had given you a specific dress code to follow when he hired you—composed of a white blouse, black stiletto heels and a dark red pencil skirt. you weren't sure why he picked the colour red for you, but you thought better than to question it. he was paying you twice as much as any other personal assistant positions did so it was important you did everything in your power to keep it. the door finally swung open, revealing his tall frame. not only was he successful, but he was also very attractive, his aura alone was enough to turn heads anytime he stepped foot outside. you knew this well, having been on the receiving end of it many times. he was dressed in his usual red suit and rectangular glasses, his fingers covered in his signature gold rings. his lips were curled up in a crooked smirk and he was watching, no—studying you.

"m-mr. choi you wanted to see me?" you stuttered out the question nervously. you weren't sure why he wanted to see you, but whatever the reason, you had a bad feeling about it.

"ah yes. come in please" he replied, stepping aside to make room for you. you walked inside his office which you spent most of your time in, sorting and filing papers, cleaning his desk and doing work on your laptop from the sleek black couch that stood across the room, perpendicular to his desk.

"i-i also brought the reports you requested on sung jinwoo, i completed them early" you managed to say, trying to keep yourself calm and collected.

"mmm, ever so diligent. good girl" he hummed approvingly, the praise sending a positive rush of blood to your cheeks. you handed him the papers, his fingers ghosting over your skin ever so lightly as he took them from you. “please, take a seat” he said, his hand motioning towards the couch. you complied, placing your hands on your knees to stop your legs from bouncing nervously. he sat himself down in an armchair across from you, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning his chin into his folded hands.

"you look nervous" he chuckled lightly, his eyes still fixed on you. you blushed, averting your eyes from his piercing gaze. "i'm just worried that you're not satisfied with my work sir" you admitted, looking down at your hands. it was true—despite his occasional praises and wide smiles, he was a perfectionist, he liked things done a certain way and he certainly made sure his employees knew that.

"you know," he started, leaning back in his arm chair, crossing his ankle over his leg "i've never kept an assistant for longer than two months at a time" he finished, smiling. a few moments later he added, "do you know why that is?"

"i-i'm not sure. how come?" you replied slowly, unsure of what was coming for you next. he was full of surprises— never quite saying what he meant, often leaving you with more questions than answers.

"because if there's one thing i despise, it's people who work less efficiently than me" he replied casually, observing you, waiting to see how you'll react. there it was again—his puzzling demeanor that never failed to keep you on your toes.

"i-i'm sorry, i'll do my best to get things done faster and—"

"ah ah, i didn't say that about you did i?" he clicked his tongue, cutting off your restless rambling. you felt your mouth zip shut, resolving to let him finish before you made any further assumptions.

"as i was going to say, you're different" he stated simply. you waited for him to elaborate because this could have meant anything, good or bad. "you're so good you know? perfect really. in all your time here you've made maybe one or two mistakes, all within your first week of work" he continued, "and that's exactly what i like about you" he finished carefully. he held your gaze, watching you fidget nervously. his words sent a warm rush of pleasure through your body, which settled low in your core. a semblance of hope returned to you—maybe you were going to keep your job after all.

before you had a chance to thank him for his praise, he asked, "tell me y/n, do you like working for me?" shifting the conversation. your eyes widened at the question. choi jong-in was a very generous employer to say the least. not only did he pay you more than any other job you’ve had, but he frequently bought you lunches without even asking, brought you coffee in the morning, and praised you like you’ve never been praised before. yes, generous he was.

“of course, you’re very kind and i’m treated better here than any other job i've had in the past so, thank you" you replied softly, hoping that he intended to keep you employed. he stood up from his armchair abruptly, and plopped himself down right beside you on the couch. you shifted nervously, waiting for his next move.

“you’re a sweet girl aren’t you?” he asked, his velvety voice alone enough to have you pressing your thighs together. and what a sweet girl you were. always so attentive and eager to please. you had everything done on time if not early, always complying with all of his requests and doing your best to make yourself useful to him. you blamed it all on his commanding presence but deep down you knew that there was more to it. you craved his attention, wanting nothing more than to hear sweet praises dripping from his lips when you did something right.

“i try my best” you replied, your voice shallow and breathless. when did it get so hot in here?

“you know what i’d like to know?” he asked, but before he let you answer, he continued, “i'd like to know what sweet girls like you look like when they come undone” he whispered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. the air was thick with tension and somehow his lips found themselves mere inches from yours—you hadn’t even noticed how close he was to you until now. you felt heat pool in your lower stomach which you quickly noticed took form in the slick that coated your panties.

"s-sir" you uttered, no longer worried about your employment, your thoughts now clouded with excitement and lust. you hadn't realized how badly you actually wanted him until now. all those stolen glances in his office, the praises, the lunches, it wasn't just because he was being nice.

and that's when you felt the tension snap. his lips quickly met yours, kissing you with a hunger you somehow knew only you could have cured. you eagerly kissed back, allowing his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth. how you'd go back to being boss and assistant after this? you didn't know. but in this moment nothing mattered but the feel of his soft, warm lips on yours. he tasted faintly of mint and cigarettes—as expected from a chainsmoker like himself.

jong-in broke the kiss momentarily. he stood, taking his blazer off and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, revealing his expensive golden watch. this man really did love luxury. the sight had you practically drooling. you unbuttoned a few buttons of your blouse in a pathetic attempt to escape the heat but you had a feeling this stifling heat would remain as long as a choi jong-in— a fire mage type hunter, was in your presence. you gasped when he lifted you easily, your legs wrapping around his torso as if on instinct. he walked you over to his desk, placing you down rather gently so you were sat on display for him, instantly squeezing your thighs together at the realization of how you looked, embarrassed to be in such a position in front of your boss. "ah ah, don't shy away from me" he cooed, gently tapping your thigh with two fingers, making you open your legs reluctantly.

and before you knew it, his lips were back on yours, claiming your mouth as his. you felt his fingers travel up and down your thigh, eventually reaching your soaked panties. "oh? if i had known you were this much of a slut i would have done this a lot earlier" he teased, pushing your panties aside and coating his slender fingers in your slick. "s-sir—ah" you moaned right before he pushed two ringed fingers inside of you while continuing to rub your sensitive clit with the pad of his thumb. you whimpered at the feeling, throwing your head back in pleasure, letting him play with you however he pleased.

he was pushing you close to the edge. you felt the buildup in your core waiting, begging to be released. "please, sir—ah, i'm going to cum" you whined, relishing in the pleasure he was giving you with just two of his fingers. "mmm, no you won't. not like this" he practically purred, a smirk of satisfaction plastered on his face. he pulled his fingers out of you right before you could finish, leaving you high and dry. "why not?" you asked while exhaling shaky breaths. you couldn't believe that choi jong-in, your boss, had you all worked up from just his fingers. "you'll see" he replied simply, once again leaving you questioning his true intentions.

he put one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder, slowly pushing your back down on the desk and leaning over you. that's when you understood exactly what he meant. you gasped as he started placing soft, wet kisses down your neck, and unbuttoning your blouse to reach your chest. you closed your eyes shut, letting out soft mewls of pleasure as he wrapped his lips around your left nipple, licking it, sucking it, and kissing the soft skin around it. you felt an overwhelming need for him, from the teasing and edging earlier to this. you were unable to contain it any longer. "please sir, i need more" you keened, hoping he understood what 'more' meant. "more what? use your words sweetness" he murmured against your skin. "i need you inside me, please sir" you managed to utter, your cheeks flushing pink.

he removed his mouth from your tits, lifting his head to look at you through half lidded eyes. he chuckled, and without another word, he wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to him, where he stood at the edge of the desk. he lifted your skirt, bunching it up around your waist so he had better access. you propped yourself up on your elbows, wanting to admire him a little more. you felt another wave of pleasurable heat wash through you, settling in your already soaked panties at the mere sight of him unbuckling his belt. his eyes lingered on you, studying your reactions to his every move. he let the belt drop to the floor, moving to unbuckle his pants. your eyes widened at the sight of his hardened cock, wondering how all of that was going to fit.

"are you ready baby?" he asked softly, hovering over you and slowly prodding your dripping entrance with his cock. you whimpered, bucking your hips impatiently. "so impatient" he muttered, slowly sliding his cock into your hole, filling every inch of you. "nngh sir—" you moaned, arching your back off the desk, trying to adjust to his girth. but he didn't move, and he wouldn't move until he heard his name roll off your tongue. "sir is used for business. does this—" he thrusted into you once making you gasp with pleasure, "feel like business to you?" he asked, smiling coyly. "n-no" you stammered. "what's my name?" he demanded, standing still, his cock buried deep inside you while he waited for his answer. "mr. choi" you replied, hoping that was what he wanted to hear. spoiler alert, it wasn't. "wrong." he thrusted into you again, making you suck in a sharp breath. "jong-in" you mewled at the pleasurable sensation of his dick hitting your sweet spot.

and that was what made him snap. the swore that the sound of his name on your lips was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. he pulled out slightly before slamming into you, making you cry out. he began pounding into you, one hand gripped your waist so hard you felt bruises forming and the other closed around your neck, choking you lightly. the feeling of the cold metal of his rings was a divine contrast for your burning skin. "fuck sweetness— you feel so good" he rasped, quickening his pace. his hair was messy, and his glasses had slid down his nose— the sight was purely erotic. you felt a flame ignite between your thighs, feeling yourself approaching your climax yet again, hoping that he would let you finish this time. "jong-in" you moaned breathlessly, unable to formulate a full sentence. "i know baby—fuck i'm gonna cum" he groaned, feeling his dick twitching with need inside of you. "ah—" you cried out, body going still as you finally felt the sweet release you were waiting so patiently for. jong-in followed, eyes shut and head hanging low, breathing heavy breaths while he finished inside of you.

as you came down from your high, your mind had started to clear and it finally dawned on you. oh my god. you had just fucked your boss, who was also the guild master of the most well known guild in the country. oh fuck. jong-in finally pulled out, buckling himself back up. he looked over at you, admiring the sight of you laying on his desk all fucked out—a sight he’d been waiting too long to produce. you sat up, looking up at him. he lifted a hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb lightly over its soft flesh. “good girl, you did so well for me” he praised, his words enough to make you melt. you really did have a thing for praise. “thank you” you mumbled shyly, unsure of how things would be after this. nothing could be the same after sex this good. he tapped your cheek lightly before dropping his hand back to his side, walking across his office to his private bathroom. he spent a few minutes in there and stepped out, holding a wet, warm towel which he used to clean you up.

the stark contrast between how rough he’d been during the sex and how gently he was cleaning you up made your head spin. would he fire you now? was it good enough for him? was he going to do it again? “stop thinking so much” he muttered, pulling you back from your thoughts. “huh?” you asked, worried that you were speaking out loud the whole time. “you have that frown on your face. i’ve noticed you frown that way when you’re overthinking something” he explained. wow, he really was attentive. “sorry” you mumbled in response, still worried about your future at the guild and your future with him.

he finished cleaning you up and you slid off the desk, shocked to find that your heels had stayed on during this whole process. your feet hurt, so you opted to take them off, your height shortening by about 4 inches. he seemed even taller now. jong-in wrapped a hand around the back of your neck and leaned down. he kissed you softly, gently, reassuring you with just his lips. he pulled away, smiling, and said “now sweetness, tell me about those reports you brought in”. looks like you were keeping the job after all.

© @blessedmisery 2025.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Beta March 1st Update

We have just recently released the March 1st update to the public Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy beta on itchio!

This is one of the shortest spans of time between two big beta updates, but the changelog is still pretty expansive, a lot of quality-of-life stuff, clarifications, typo fixing, lots of focus on bug-hunting in general, so overall this version should be much easier to understand.

The biggest new additions are a bunch of new art pieces, and we finally finished the Module Writing Guide in Chapter 7, so you can use all 10 steps to help you get your Eureka Mystery Module Game Jam submission ready.

Now, we can finally start moving forward at speed again on copy-editing.

Full changelog below

CHANGE LOG 

Copy-editing Progress: Thoroughly copy-edited up to p. 302. Half-ass copy-edited up to p. 322.

Don't forget, we also released Eureka adventure modules “The Eye of Neptune” and “FORIVA: The Angel Game” into free beta on itch.io!

WHOLE BOOK

Removing Examples of Play for time and more importantly page count reasons. There is a small chance they may get added back in. 

CHAPTER 1 

Added an example of very rare circumstances where Ticks can just pass from a task without a roll or Scene change. 

Adjusted some phrasing in “Be Prepared to Lose”

Added “Approaching this Game” section

Added that if a Tier of Fear fear comes up mid-session that your investigator does not have on their sheet, you add it to their sheet in the tier that it makes sense right there mid-session. 

Made it more explicitly clear that failed and partially succeeded investigative rolls should not give false information.

CHAPTER 2

Edited a mistake in the Chemistry Skill 

Clarified that a character cannot have multiple instances of the same Trait 

Clarified that even with the Did You Know Trait, an investigator can still gain bonus Investigation Points from other Traits. 

Fixed a typo in the optional fears in the tiers of fear section

Slapped in a section that better explains how the character sheet works, will fix this up later

Clarified that My Glasses Trait gives a Contextual bonus and clarified Go With Your Gut

Moved “Creating NPCs” from Chapter 7 to Chapter 2.

Really cleaned up “Creating NPCs” and “Morale” and made it much more clear

Added Sunscreen to item list, for vampires. 

Added a toolbox to the item list.

Added an option for trivial items to cost 1 Tick instead of a Wealth Roll. 

Raised the price of campers and RVs

Added a section of the item list for additional property

Split First Aid Kits into three separate items, representing different levels of preparedness. 

Added Emergency Medication, such an epinephrine, to item list 

Added prescription medication to item list

Added clarification that unless stated otherwise, most items include the means to use them, such as cameras coming with film. 

Clarified that the WP price of vehicles includes the fuel to power them

Added more drugs

Added a paragraph about how WP costs are decided and how one might adjust them for different places or time periods. 

Added a note about legality for weapons other than firearms

Increased the WP cost of certain electronics 

Added remote control drone to item list

Added a separate item list section for Medicine.

CHAPTER 3

Clarified Epicenter Initiative and fixed typos

Added a lot more bullet point summaries

Clarified falling damage.

CHAPTER 7

Finished the “Setting the Stage” section

Cut “Connections (Optional Rule)” for now. We might put it back in later, but the thing that this rule does is something that most groups have little trouble doing on their own, and we really need to reduce page count.

Moved “Creating NPCs” from Chapter 7 to Chapter 2.

Reordered chapter 7

Removed “Character Moments (Optional Rules)” for now, might put it back in. 

Removed “Car stalling Out” Might put it back in. 

Removed “Clues direct the party” and “Clue redundancy”, might put them back 

Finally completely finished the mystery module writing guide but it still needs editing

Clarified that converting some “investigation” modules from other games is not as easy as it should be. 

More art has been added.

CHAPTER 8 

Fixed typo in the Wolfman “Unstoppable” section

Fixed it so that the Wolfman “Just Built Denser” section does not make wolfmen inherently be super tall

Fixed typo under the Curse section of Changeling

Clarified how the Manifest Weaponry Mage Ability interacts with other Traits.

New hunting table entry added (this one was from a submitter, those slots are still open, you can email us about getting your own custom hunting table entry at anim.contactus@gmail.com)

Added another new fan-submitted hunting table entry. 

Fixed typo in “Where Does the Blood Go?”

Clarified Telekinesis mage power and gave it an effective range.

Clarified that dogs can’t own dogs. 

Even further clarified that talking dogs are dogs. 

Fixed typo accidentally saying that there were four types of investigators. This was because Mage used to be a separate category on its own.

Changed the default modifier for the Composure roll that vampires must make upon being exposed to sunlight the first time each Scene from +3 to +5. They will still potentially lose a lot of Composure to sunlight because this roll is also modified by the huge negative modifier that is affected by how much coverage they are wearing, but when starting at +3 it was taking way too much Composure for the monster type that has the least options for restoring Composure. 

More art has been added.

[nowiiiiiisworld]

57 Reasons To Be Skinny according to Fading Obsession (€D website)

01. You will be FAT if you eat today, just put it off one more day.

02. You don't NEED food.

03. Fat people can't fit everywhere.

04. Guys will be able to pick you up without struggling.

05. You'll be able to run faster without all that extra weight holding you back.

06. People will remember you as "the beautiful thin one".

07. If someone has to describe you, they'll say "oh she weighs like 90, 100 lbs".

08. Guys will want to get to know you, not laugh at you and walk away.

09. Starving is an example of excellent willpower.

10. You will be able to see your beautiful, beautiful bones.

11. Bones are clean and pure. Fat is dirty and hangs on your bones like a parasite.

12. If you eat then you'll look like those disgusting, fat, ghetto and trailer-trash hookers on Jerry Springer.

13. The models that everyone claims are beautiful, the spitting image of perfection, are any of them fat? NO!

14. Too many people in the world are obese.

15. People who eat are selfish and unrealistic.

16. Only fat people are attracted to fat people. Do you want pigs to like you because you are one of them.

17. Anyone can have "inner beauty" but few can earn real beauty, inside as well as out.

18. You'll be able to move as quietly and skillfully as a spider.

19. Only thin people are graceful.

20. If you slap a fat person you can see a shockwave ripple over their skin. That's disgusting.

21. Do you want people to say "for gods sake get off me you're crushing me!!!" or "you are sooo light" ???

22. Underweight aka perfect body.

23. Ballerina? or beanbag?

24. I want to be light enough so a helium balloon could lift me and carry me to the clouds.

25. I want to walk in the snow and leave no footprints.

26. Starve off the parts you don't need. They're ugly and they drag you down.

27. Nothing cant be fixed with hunger and weight loss.

28. Saying "no thanks" to food is saying "yes please" to THIN!!!

29. Fat people are so huge, yet people look away from them as if they don't exist.

30. The only time people do notice a fat person is when they get in the way of that beautiful thin girl walking by (ok that sounds really horrible i know.)

31. Have you ever seen a person NOT notice a walking skeleton.

32. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.

33. Is food more important that happiness in life? I think not!

34. Eating is conforming to everyone else's expectations.

35. When you start to get dizzy and weak you're almost there.

36. Hunger is your friend and it won't betray you like food.

37. Food is mean and sneaky. It tricks you into eating it and it works on you from the inside out making you fat, bloated, ugly and unhappy.

38. Think of anorexia as your secret weapon.

39. If you can name one reason to be fat, I'll name a million and one to be thin.

40. Thin people look good in ANY kind of clothes.

41. Food rots your teeth.

42. Puffy cheeks, double chins and thick ankles-- aren't attractive.

43. Fatty areas stretch and sag as you get older.

44. Ever seen the arms of a fat person wave hello or goodbye?

45. Eating little to nothing saves you money!

46. The average (middle class) American wastes OVER $8,000 a year on FOOD ALONE...it goes in one end and out the other. That sure is a lot of fat! No wonder so many Americans are obese and overweight!

47. Fat people make their country look bad.

48. Big people sweat more and they smell bad.

49. Fat people die earlier.

50. You'll be the envy of all the other girls.

51. All of the guys will want you.

52. You're less likely to get food poisoning.

53. You won't be exposed to all the chemicals and pesticides they put in food today.

54. You won't get sweaty on hot days.

55. The word fat will only apply to you in a sarcastic way.

56. No one wants to see a fat person dance.

57. Beauty Queen? or Dairy Queen?

[flycoffee]

Recently it got me thinking what if this guy becomes a running gag? you know this guy⬇️

The guy that saw thorn princess and live to “not tell” the tale out of fear then try to kill her at his new legit job as a waiter but failed miserably because of Anya's intervene and Yor’s inhuman toxicity immunity.

It got me thinking what if he becomes the only person that figure out the forger family’s hidden identity by sheer coincidence and luck.

He knows what Anya looks like at least the base feature is obvious to him he knows Anya have pink hair and probably a five years old child, there’s not much dangerous five years old child out there.

What if he somehow got involved with Edgar the antagonist in the first episode and didn’t get killed by Twilight at the end of the episode, He also knows what Anya looks like and didn’t do anything to threaten Twilight because he wants his daughter to live a peaceful life. The reason this dude got involved with Edgar is because of his past underworld activities, he did quit the underworld stuff and started a new as a waiter but he got fire because he blown up the storage room in the restaurant but soon find another waiter job and live quiet a peaceful life for Katherine for the few months, but good times does not last, he own someone money in the underworld and he somehow got involved in one of the illegal weapons trafficking that had and fake up front of high end marble flooring furniture, and sculpture, he has to work as errands boy for a few weeks to pay off the favors he owns in the past, he never met Edgar but talked to one the members that show up in the first episode who kidnapped Anya, as far as I can tell twilight didn’t kill them they were badly injured but lives, as he worked as errands boy he heard many legend of twilight and that one guy shared the tale of a girl who he think might be twilight’s kid and beware of a five years old girl with pink hair green eyes and black horn like hair accessories on her head, pink hair five years old got this waiter dude’s hair stand on end, because how many pink hair five years old could be out there involved in the underworld!? It must be a coincidence, because if it’s true then this kid is not only with Thorn Princess but Twilight the man with a thousand faces as well!

And fate is about to play a cruel joke on him because on the last day of his job to pay off his debt a mysterious man infiltrates their operation then killed and knocked out almost everyone with such efficiency it scares the fuck out of him, no wasted motion, evey shot hit it's target, the last time he experienced the horror is with Thorn princess, and unlike the others who try to defend their base he is busy trying to survive, if he can live past today he is debt free as the waiter dude busy escape and trying to find a hiding spot he hit his head when he runs under the staircase trying to hide and knock himself out, that saved his lives and because he is the one who hurt himself his head injuries is not as bad as the others he wakes up just in time to hear an old man’s voice calling twilight to help him move the bodies, he played dead the entire time they were there, he didn’t even open his eyes they didn’t talk much but from what he can gather he knows he has to take this secret to the grave.

“Twilight help me move this bodies”

“Why can’t they send more people to do the clean job, my job is done, I need to head back, I am out late as it is, if I stay any longer it might raises suspicions”

“You only play a family man when time like this, and you know why they can’t send more people.”

“Being a family man is my job…”

“Fine, make sure to cover the cut on your temple or your wife might be worried”

Sighs

“More the reason for me to leave this place soon, we shouldn’t be discussing this while we are here”

“Don’t worry everyone is either dead or knocked out. I checked and no one is here anymore.”

His head in so much pain like he had just got run through by a dozen trucks, he probably had a concussion, even through pain and misery he got some information,

1. Twilight is a family man

2. He has a wife

3. From the tone of his voice when he spoke about being a family man as his job and his wife will be worried if she saw the cut, he assumed it’s a loving relationship.

And 4. It’s just a speculation. They might had a pink-haired five-year-old daughter.

Soon he fainted again due to the throbbing pain from his head.

The next thing he knew he woke up in the small dirty medical room and his creditor told him he was free to go, he is no longer indebted he walked out and saw three other people from the operation with much worse injuries on them, twilight is truly a horrifying man.

This was gonna be a whole new PTSD he was sure of it and with more resolve than before he was finally clean from all of his past mistakes, he could finally live a peaceful life with Katherine, he had a week of Injury leave, in his days off he often wonders if the conversation is just his imaginary or a dream, he will never be sure of it, until the day the universe proves him wrong.

Two weeks into his peaceful life and a week past when he was back to his very legal waiter job, one Saturday dinner rush he saw a very familiar dark hair and red eyes a pink hair girl with black horns on her head and heard that man’s voice how can he forgot when his dream is hunted by it, he is about to have a panic attacks, he saw them the assassin, the five years old and the man he never met before but he recognize this is the guy that thorn princess binding out with in his last waiter job, and the pink hair girl matching every description of twilight’s daughter according to the grapevine, he knows in first hand that this child is not to be trifled with, a dangerous child calling to her mother who is even more deadly and terrifying then her daughter, it is no brainer the logic fit that the man most twilight, it make sense the deadly assassin married to to cold calculated spy and they had a daughter who they trained to be as good as them, and he knows that the girl recognize him from the way she stared at him though her parents doesn’t seems to know that, they might know who he is and just pertaining, but he is just a no body what could they achieve if they came to finish him off?

They are in his section, the outdoor section of the restaurant because they had a big white dog name bond, he is about to pass out as the host brings them to his section but the girl said something that make him realize that he is in the clear, his life will be speared if he just keep on doing his job.

“ah! Anya is so happy to be eating in the restaurant with her very loving and very normal family, Anya is happy that father book a restaurant allowed for our dog Bond and excited to eat the famous apple pie here because it’s her mama’s favorite, Anya hope we could all enjoy our meal together in peace. Anya is looking forward to eat here” He get the message from the child it’s in the subtitle, in her tone, and her piercing gaze that he know as long as he play along as an waiter he will be fine and that is what he did, he introduce himself and handed them the menus, the dinner went smoothly he even gave the girl a milk shake on the house, even though his life is on the line here he can’t help thinking that they look just like any other families that had dined at the restaurant, but he knows better, little did he know that they would become a regular guest of the restaurant and somehow always designated him as their waiter.

The five years old thinks it funny to mess with him once in a while.

[royalsunshinehotel]

The Jackal (The Day of the Jackal, 2024) SFW Alphabet

SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I think he’s learning how to be affectionate. There’s a section of his mind that’s always looking for danger, any angles that might be hiding a monster that needs slaying. The affection is reserved, but real. He’ll be looking over his shoulder, and holding your hand the entire time. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I think he’d be an excellent best friend. It’s hard to be friends with someone so reserved, but once you break through, you’re going to be the last one standing in any firefight. He’ll make sure of it. (See: his spotter, who he didn’t blow up in the 2024 show) 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

I think he loves cuddling. He’ll be sitting on a squishy couch (your purchase) in your shared living room, and pull your legs into his lap. The two of you don’t say much, and just watch each other, and he eventually brings you closer because of it.  And typically, he goes to bed flat on his back, and winds up completely wrapped up in your limbs. That counts too. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I think he craves being settled down. In the show, if he didn’t have Nuria and Carlitos, there’s no reason to be grounded. I think he can clean with the best of him, but he can only cook 3 meals successfully - they all come out of a can. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I truly see this character as someone who mates for life, or tries to. This means he’s typically the one being broken up with. If he does have to break it off with a partner, he’ll have to do it face-to-face (never ghost). He’ll be logical, cold, and he’ll feel like he’s getting all of his teeth pulled. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I’m thinking that things with Nuria got out of hand. Typically, this is someone who’s practical first and foremost. Here comes Nuria, all fire and love, what’s he supposed to do?  I’m betting he folded for her within the year, getting married and starting their family ASAP. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

I feel in my bones that he'll surprise you. Everything about him is so hardened, and sharp, so he's going to overcompensate and swing in the other direction. You're going to be treated softly and carefully until you ask him not to.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He actually really enjoys a hug. He'll hug you once every day at least. There's always a split second after first contact where you feel him relax in your arms, it's lovely.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

The last person he said 'I love you' to and meant it, before Nuria, was his parents. The words carry a lot of weight, and he promises a lot with the words. He won't say them unless he can fulfill the promises he's made to you in his head.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I think he doesn't struggle with jealousy as much as he used to, most people who flirt with you, are people of no consequence to the life you guys share. He'll just put his face in your neck and get over it. It's minimal.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

In public, he's judicious with PDA. You're getting a peck on the lips, maybe on the cheek if he's feeling comfortable.

Privately, he's going after your throat, messily, anywhere he can feel your pulse. He's also a big fan of kissing in between your eyebrows. You scrunch them up and he adores it.

As for himself, he knows if you kiss his earlobe, he'll fold immediately. You go after his throat? He'll fold immediately. He's in pieces at your feet as we speak.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

I think he's comfortable around kids! He has one! There's nothing to worry about with children. If they need something, they'll tell you.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

I do feel like he's up at some ungodly military hour to do his fitness. You're probably up at around 7am? He's been up for hours and has breakfast going. He relaxes when he sees you stumbling out of the bedroom, and he sits down to eat with you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Getting ready for bed starts at 8:30pm, he'll brush his hair, teeth, wash his face and physically get into bed by 8:45pm. You go to the bedroom a bit later to do whatever it is you like to do before bed, and he watches you. He enjoys watching you.

When you get in to bed, you stay up reading in soft yellow light, and he stays up watching you. It's cozy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It's definitely not linear. You barely have a name. Yes, a name. You have no idea if it's even his. However, in the dead of night on a random April day, you'll get half of a story about his father teaching him how to go fishing when he was a [redacted] age in [redacted] location.

You learn about him by watching him, and how he interacts with the world. Details are secondary.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

I don't think it's easy to get him angry. You have to know what exact buttons to press, and when to press them, it's rare.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

It's his job to know. It's natural to him to know. He remembers everything.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

You bullied him into taking you to a movie, on your second date. When he was dropping you off at the door, you unlinked your arm with his and kissed the back of his hand. His hand tingled for two days after, and he'll never forget it.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

This doesn't even need to be said, but it's all for you. We see what he did for Nuria. The big house, the comfortable life, the careful, loving husband. He's protective. All the pieces are in their exact place, and we see that in the show. As for you, if the police are ever circling, he's 100% adamant that you sell him out. Give him up, save yourself. You won't, but it's worth a try.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

As said before, it's his job to know. And all of this stuff, for him, is so easy. It's easy to plan a good date when it's something to live for. It's easy to plan for an anniversary when it was the first day you felt like a real person. It's easy to buy a gift when you're always in his head. Jackal tries really hard on all fronts of his life.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I think the thing that makes you absolutely insane, is that when he's deeply stressed, he'll isolate. You understand the urge, but you have to stick your head out of your foxhole at some point. You want to reach out and support, or get a text back to a "u ok?" but instincts are strong. He's gonna dig himself pretty deep. You have to go into his part of the house.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

I think he's extremely concerned with his looks, just by nature of who he is. He's always aware of what he looks like, at any given moment. He's very fastidious, but never to the point where it's detrimental.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He'd rather chew his own arm off than lose you, we see this energy throughout episode 10 of season one.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I feel like he's a massive gearhead. His knowledge of guns started after an ill-fated summer working at a garage. Once he knew all there was to know about cars, he had to move on. Mechanically-minded people are gonna have their machines.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

If I'm being honest I do feel like, once he gets a taste of someone he cares for, there's not a whole lot a person can do to turn him off.

Z = Zzz (What are sleep habits?)

He doesn’t really sleep. Not deeply. Sure his eyes are closed, but he can’t give that much control away. There’s too much to think about, there’s too much to do. In the night, you shift, and lay on top of him, and the contact forces all the bad thoughts away.

[s0fter-sin]

trans!soap taking his baby and running away from his rich abusive husband

(cw angst, financial abuse, single threat of child abuse, single mention of transphobia)

he's owned soap for years, since he was a teenager; paid for his medication and all his surgeries and tied them so deeply, soap’s lost hope of ever getting away. he gets even worse when soap falls pregnant. he was always controlling; blowing up at him if he spent too long out of the house or did something without telling him. but he becomes utterly possessive during the pregnancy

soap knows it has nothing to do with his safety or the baby's

he knows he sees his baby as an investment; another being he can control and hold over him

he gets worse and worse but there’s nothing soap can do. there's been nothing he can do for a long time. then a few months after the baby is born, soap doesn’t watch his tone closely enough and his husband threatens to drop his baby in punishment for it

soap doesn't think. he doesn't plan

he takes his baby and runs

he sneaks out of the servant's quarters of the sterile mansion he's been forced to live in for almost a decade and walks down the street without a backwards glance; his baby the only thing in his arms. he knows all of his husband's cars have trackers, all of them in his name since he never lets soap drive or go anywhere by himself, so he walks far enough to be out of view of the mansion's cameras and steals one. it doesn't have a car seat and all he can do is clutch his baby to his chest as he drives

he doesn't know where he's going beyond away

he doesn't know what he's going to do; he doesn't have any money, no supplies for his baby, he doesn't even have water for himself so he can reliably breastfeed him. he's terrified his husband will find them; he’s always felt omniscient, always everywhere and seeing everything he did. if he didn’t have eyes somewhere, he paid someone who did and they always dutifully reported back to him

soap just keeps his eyes forward. just keeps driving and driving, lost to the road and numb until the low gas light pops up on the dash and it all hits him at once

he turns into a gas station he can't pay for, in a car he stole, and parks behind it and his baby immediately starts getting fussy

he can't even call him by his name sometimes; too afraid to get attached, too afraid to lose him. as if he doesn’t love him more than life itself

even throughout his pregnancy, as happy as he was to finally have a baby, he didn't know if he could carry to term and that fear just let his husband dig his claws in even deeper; paying for extra scans he could never hope to pay for, favours on top of favours so he would aways owe him and isn’t he such a loving husband? taking soap in when his parents kicked him out for being trans, looking after him for all these years? you can’t even take care of yourself john, you’d still be a woman without me, john, what is this tantrum about john-

soap tugs his shirt up to let his baby feed, drops his head back and cries

he can't stop it; wails loud and uncontrolled, chest heaving with his sobs enough that it sways his baby, occasionally breaking his latch and he can't even do this right-

he can't save him

a light knock sounds on the window and soap flinches, curling over his baby to protect him from his huband's cruel hands

but it's not his husband outside the window

soap blinks tears from his eyes and looks at the large stranger standing beside the car. a neck gaiter covers his mouth and it should be off-putting… but something about him stops the feeling in its tracks. the stranger takes a half-step back and lifts a chilled and sealed water bottle, pressing it towards the window

soap quickly swipes his face clean and rolls down the window. "sorry 'bout that," he apologises with a choked laugh, the careful front he’s built over the years cracked and bleeding

the stranger gives a dismissive but somehow not diminishing shrug. "long day?" he asks

"could say that," he gives a shrug of his own and pats his baby's back as he makes a disgruntled noise, unconsciously swaying him

he politely keeps his gaze up on his face. "looks like you could use a break."

soap's breath hitches, anxiously darting his tongue out over his bottom lip. "could say that," he repeats uselessly and takes the water with a quiet “thanks,”; his throat dry and screaming for it after crying so hard

the stranger hums, watching him down the bottle and soap doesn’t notice his eyes drifting to the backseat and footwell of the passenger side. doesn’t notice the slight tension in his fists at what he sees. "how long you been runnin', lad?"

soap freezes, the water settling in his stomach like a stone. he swallows thickly and the bottle falls from his lips

"not long enough."

the stranger just nods, looking idly back down the highway

"you know, this place is connected to a garage,” he starts, nodding back to a building attached to the station without taking his eyes off the road. “lotta people drift through 'ere on road trips; too many to keep track.”

soap frowns slightly, shifting his hold on his baby

“funny thing is, plenty of 'em just abandon their car when they break down. like yours,” he adds and finally turns back to him with a pointed look. “got a whole junkyard of 'em. just rustin' away. be pretty easy to convince me to trade ya one."

soap’s mouth parts in a gasp as he realises just what the stranger’s saying. "how easy?" he whispers

he shrugs and even with his face hidden beneath the gaiter, he doesn’t feel afraid. "i'd say this car'd be a good deal. would blend right in with the rest of ‘em; no one’d ever notice it. what say i take it off your hands?"

soap's breath shudders out of him, his whole body going limp with relief. his baby's eyes fall shut with a satisfied hum and for the first time he can remember, he feels the gentle touch of hope

"i think we can work something out."

🧼💀

ghost owns the service station soap pulled into. he wanted something quiet and isolated after he retired and you can’t get much quieter than a backwoods servo surrounded by forest. he hasn’t had anyone pull in in days so he’s quick to notice soap’s car. he’s also quick to notice soap's subsequent breakdown in one of the cameras. the sight of him crying, desperately clutching a baby like they’re all he has left in the world, is so familiar he felt sick with it

he knows someone running when he sees it

if he didn't check on him, if this lad disappeared one day and the baby along with him, he'd never forgive himself. the lad doesn't even have a baby bag or car seat with him, and the personalised sticker on the back window of a lady and a dog is a dead giveaway that the car is stolen

but the lad is terrified. and when he startled him, he didn't turn. didn’t lift his arms to protect himself. no

he covered his baby

like he was afraid he'd be hurt

that's enough for ghost

🧼💀

i'd wanna set this in the 80's or 90's, just to make it even harder for soap to get away from his husband. he's a trans man with a newborn; he has no one to run to and no resources to help him. his husband's bought and paid for everything for him since he was 17; a few whirlwind weeks of unbelievable dates and extravagant gifts and he was living in his mansion, getting married the day after his 18th birthday. he thought it was love. thought he was being looked after and cared for the way he’s always wanted

he was in pain and alone and naive enough to believe the first person who came along and promised to make it better. nothing's in his name, not his insurance or his meds, he doesn’t have a bank account or savings; other than a birth certificate, nothing even ties him to his baby. his husband could take his world away from him with a snap of his fingers and he made sure soap always knew it

he never had a chance of getting away

but ghost is ex-military

he doesn’t know the lad’s story, doesn’t know the details of what he’s running from. he doesn’t need to know

he decided he was helping him the second he pulled into his service station

[beneathsilverstars]

guys i think my depression meds are working

[danielnelsen]

peach (my cat) is having a full-day vet appointment to scan and possibly remove some teeth (the perks of only being allowed wet food)

completely unrelated, but anything regarding peach’s health or her being somewhere else or anything even mildly off with her routine or behaviour is probably by biggest anxiety and panic trigger

[anotherpapercut]

working with children really will make you examine your thought processes and emotional reactions like nothing else. I've found myself being so much more thoughtful in my daily life about how I respond to my emotions and environment, as well as the reasoning behind why others behave the way they do