#there’s so many details in it and some of it is just straight up bullshit like any trauma related dream we have

[stayathome-ts]

I did not need to be part of a cryptic possibly trauma related dream?? But thanks I guess??

[alchemistc]

okay….. can I ask about Buck in the hockey au?

Buck was a middling college player who got drafted in the third round after his team missed the Frozen Four, and he kind of labored in obscurity for a few years in the AHL before his current team picked him up trying to unload cap space to buy out a problem players contract.

Buck plays four regular season games with his new team before he gets sent back down. The company line is that he's just Not Ready but in actuality he's been hooking up with girls in visitor facilities and once in the team bus. His coach (the coach is Bobby I'm just still working out the details) tells him he sees a lot of potential in Buck, and he could make it if he could just find a way to get his head on straight.

Buck gets his head on straight. He kills it with the affiliate team, runs a point streak through twenty-three games as a defenseman, quarterbacks the power play to the point that fans of the NHL team are up in arms that he hasn't been called up.

They're playing with numbers, trying to give Buck as much ice time as possible while they lose the weight of one of their underperforming D-Men - the usual contract juggling. Then they call him up. He has a few good games, scores a few goals, has a wicked wrister from the blue line. He also scores an own goal against Chim his fourth game up and keeps taking stupid penalties. It's 2-4 penalty minutes a game for too many men or delay of game because he keeps getting too overexcited and slinging the puck over the glass instead of along the boards.

Abby works for TNT, and Buck catches her eye while she's between the pipes for a national broadcast game. She's got enough pull to get his number and they start up a phone based relationship.

Buck's team makes playoffs his first year, and gets slaughtered in the first round. Abby's mom dies and she takes a break from sports casting and Buck, not that she really lets him know that.

During the off-season Buck's team trades for a defenseman who's been in the KHL for a few years. His name is Eddie Diaz.

Buck hates him for about half a day. He feels like he's being replaced. He's worked so fucking hard to make it and now there's this guy who just gets a spot right away?

(They're best buds by the end of the week, and by the time the regular season starts they're playing 25 minutes a night as the top D-Pair)

Buck's career comes to a screeching halt in the second round of the playoffs that year when he gets tripped on a breakaway and slides awkwardly into the boards.

(No one makes the connection at the time, but the player who trips him is the same one one of their old wingers, Deluca, saved from the bottom of a dogpile years ago when a skate got way too close to his neck)

The injury isn't an easy one. There's no quick recovery time. Buck is just sort of stuck in limbo for a while. And then when he's cleared to return they find out there were complications. Coach Bobby benches Buck.

And Buck has been nothing but hockey for most of his life. It was the only way to get his parents to pay attention to him. The only outlet for all his anger. And he's good at it. He's the best. He could be the best, anyway.

Buck takes to twitter during his 'recovery' time. At first he's just posting stupid shit, but then people start paying attention to him. The PR dept does Not Like the way Buck calls out bullshit and trolls on Twitter. The GM gets involved, things blow up. Buck is reluctantly allowed back at practices and quickly jumps into game readiness.

And it's clear he's come back better.

The team toils for years in first and second round exits, and some of their stars are coming close to contract years, and they just can't break out. Buck places third for the Norris a few times, and he and Eddie are often talked about as one of the best Defensive pairings in the league, but their team is fast and light and they get beat to shit every time playoffs roll around. Eddie's feisty, he'll talk shit until the opposing bench is FUMING, he'll get scrappy along the boards, he'll duke it out when necessary, but he usually has to keep a lid on that because he can't let Buck down by getting injured.

At the end of year six for Buck, after a heartbreaking out, Buck's end of year presser goes viral when he talks about how he's been in the league for six years and hasn't won shit.

The fanbase panics because he's in his second to last contract year. If they can't contend, they're convinced he's gonna want out before the All-Star break. (None of them are aware that Buck would rather re-break his leg than leave this team he considers family, and his agent would like to keep it that way)

The team has a banner fucking year. They've got record game winning streaks and record point streaks and their aging goalie has never played better. He has four shutouts in the first half of the season. And Buck was never planning to leave so no one really broaches the contract thing. They'll figure it out in the off-season. Buck's got games to win.

With the trade deadline looming and Buck's team looking like a shoe-in for top of their conference, the front office makes a... strange move early in. They trade for Tommy Kinard. He's a bruiser, real old school type, skates like he's got bricks attached to his ankles but will knock a motherfucker down for looking sideways at his guys. He hasn't announced he's retiring at the end of the season, but he's planning to hang it up either way.

The team is hesitant about that, at first, once they know. He and Chim played together for a few years, and Chim welcomes him to the team by filling his car with golf balls. Pointed, maybe, but Tommy laughs it off, and retaliates, and the team starts to grow fond of him. BUCK starts to grow fond of him. Buck has a Cup run to worry about but Tommy is there, playing five minutes a night and knocking dudes on their ass that would normally be going for Buck and Eddie so consistently that Buck and Eddie feel a little invincible. People are second guessing whether or not they want to risk incurring the wrath of Kinard for a meaningless late March game.

And that is where I leave this because I'm actually seriously considering writing this fic now and that's about where I'd start it.

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 12th: Soulmates | Eight - Sleeping at Last | Perceptive a/n: steddie, soulmates au (phillia + eros). eddie & jeff as platonic soulmates, stobin soulmates mentioned always. un-betaed because I’m challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

Soulmates, Eddie scoffs to himself as he doodles in his notebook at the back of the coffee shop. Bullshit. 

He knows it’s actually not, that people walk around every day hand-in-hand with beautiful, swirling tattoos that grow in intricacy and detail the more time they spend with their soulmate. Most days, Eddie doesn’t mind that the simple snake design on the inside of his wrist never so much as slithers, but today? Today, he minds. 

Dating in the world of soulmates is challenging. He tries to just focus on how feels, on if the person sitting across from him is compatible with his lifestyle, on if there’s any kind of spark, but it’s inevitable that at some point, both he and his date look down at their wrists to find nothing. 

His coffee date had gone well enough but, like always, was a dead-end. How many paths can one person try before the destination seems moot? 

So he sits and scribbles in his notebook, hoping that perhaps staying in the coffee shop rather than returning home to the apartment he shares with Jeff will provide some inspiration. That tattoo, the one that’d started as a small star on his ankle, has grown into a whirling galaxy since moving in with Jeff– a philia connection if he’s ever seen one. But if his eros tattoo won’t build upon itself naturally, he’ll do it manually with a tattoo gun. 

It also helps that the barista is perhaps the most beautiful man Eddie’s ever laid eyes on, enough so that it’s… actually a little intimidating, if he’s being honest with himself. Intimidating to the point that Eddie’s yet to approach him for a refill since the girl who’d given him his first sugary abomination finished her shift. Besides, the mystery barista must’ve already found his soulmate. His entire left arm, from fingertip to at least his elbow, is covered in delicate, colorful designs that twist and wind about his skin, curling around each finger and looping gracefully up his arm.

I can still enjoy the view, he justifies to himself, taking a sip from his cup and remembering for the third time that it’s empty. 

He sighs and sets it back down, clearing his throat. It’s as good a time as any, he supposes, as he stands from his little corner table by the window and strolls across the room to the counter. 

“Hi, what can I get started for ya?” The barista asks, his name tag now visible and proclaiming Steve. 

“Uh,” he starts. “Salted caramel mocha, please?” 

Steve’s smile is bright and he leans on the counter, leveling it straight in Eddie’s direction. All Eddie wanted was a refill on his sweet treat disguised as coffee and instead, it feels as though he’s smacked in the head.

“Comin’ right up,” Steve replies, turning around to get his order going. “You’ve been sitting over there for a while, how’d that date go?” He asks with the confidence and familiarity of someone Eddie’s known his entire life. 

“Watching me, were you?” 

Steve grins over his shoulder, shrugging. “A little.” 

“I’m flattered. Well, I’m still here and they’re not so that oughta tell you everything.” 

Steve hums and turns back to the machine, finishing up his order. Eddie’s heart beats rhythmically, somehow slowing and quickening all at once and his lungs feel buoyed by something more powerful than his breath. When Steve faces him again and hands him his cup, exchanging it for the empty one in Eddie’s hand, they both freeze. 

Eddie’s snake begins to move. 

A clear, serpentine movement at the center as small, geometric lines begin to appear in the background. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie whispers, setting his full cup down so he doesn’t spill it. 

“Yeah, holy shit.” Steve places his other arm on the counter, the blank one, and Eddie sees that it’s not blank. There’s a small, barebones tree on his forearm whose leaves begin to blossom and shake, different shades of greens and oranges appearing before his eyes. 

“But– your other arm?” Eddie chokes out, eyes flickering between his own wrist, Steve’s forearm, and Steve’s other, fuller arm. 

“Philia. That’s Robin. But this one, this is eros.” Steve smiles again, matching the one Eddie can feel spreading across his own face as he looks up from his forearm. “I’m Steve.”

Steve smiles again, matching the one Eddie can feel spreading across his own face as he looks up from his forearm. Eddie looks in wonderment, searching for any sign of lie or trickery in Steve’s eyes and finds nothing but warmth and familiarity. 

“I’m Eddie.”

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

A more detailed response is under the cut if you're interested/want to know what prompted this random ass post:

Just wanted to make a few things clear after I received this anon:

And that anon won't see this post unless they access my page from a different account because - you guessed it! - I blocked them. I have zero issues blocking people, but I don't do it without reason. (This is also assuming your blog doesn't look like a straight up bot, which I automatically block.) If you don't want to run the risk of being blocked by me, it's actually pretty simple:

Don't have shitty takes - like equating kinks to p3d0philia. If I had to guess, I'd say about 90% of my block list is people who have supported or run rampant with some bullshit kink=pedo narrative. This in particular is something I take issue with on a very deep level and will almost always block people over.

Don't steal people's work and/or pass it off as your own (this also includes "transforming" someone's original work without their express permission).

Don't engage with AI chatbots; I think they're weird, inherently devalue the work of human creators, and create a "content farm" mentality to fandom that fucking blows chunks. There have also been SO MANY instances of some asshole feeding a fic into a chatbot without permission that I don't think anyone can really engage with them without the probability that it involves to some degree a stolen work. If using chatbots is more important than avoiding something that has many times over negatively impacted a fic writer, then I don't think you deserve to read fic tbh.

Don't go around being a disingenuous, opportunistic asshole aka I have seen your username pop up several times piling onto whatever the drama of the week is. It's giving parasite. It's giving acting in bad faith. It's giving I need attention on the internet. It's giving clout chaser and trying to gain followers by riding the coattails of drama.

If any of those reasons/explanations seem extreme or over the top to you, you might want to reevaluate how you interact with creators on here. There's a reason why so many have been leaving the space entirely. Some have taken their works to AO3 because of the plagiarism issues or morality police brigading their page and asks (almost always on anon ofc). Some have decided to take down their blogs altogether because it's not worth it anymore.

There's a give and a take with fandom, and so many have lost the fucking plot. I'm not going to spend time, energy, and thought towards my fics just so some random asshole on the internet can try to dictate how and when my work should be used/enjoyed. I'm also not going to let someone who either is a bad person or acts like a bad person would have access to my shit. If you want to be a shitty person, you don't get the luxury of engaging with my blog or my works. Plain and simple. Tbh more people need to call out the bullshit or actively block accounts that do these things because it has created a really tiresome, hostile space.

I owe you nothing, anon, and I make zero apologies for curating my space and experience on this site. If I blocked you, it was for a reason.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

[cosmicjoke]

I swear to god, if I see one more person say Levi wanted to kill Zeke for "revenge" and blubber on about how revenge "blinded" him and that's why he got caught in the thunderspear explosion, I think I'll throw myself off a cliff.

It had nothing to do with revenge, or a desire for self-satisfaction. It was an entirely selfless pursuit, undertaken in the memory and in honor of his fallen comrades, the ones who gave their lives that day in Shinganshina. I've been over this so many times, I'm not going to go over it again in detail here. But anyone who doesn't yet understand that is, I'm sorry, fundamentally flawed in their understanding of Levi's character. This isn't an interpretation. Levi explicitly states that the reason he wants to kill Zeke is to prove his comrades deaths had meaning. He says it. Not only is the idea that Levi wanted Zeke dead for revenge and that he was "blinded" by that desire fundamentally flawed in its understanding of Levi's character, it also completely lacks logic. If Levi was really "blinded" by a quest for revenge, he would have just killed Zeke at the first opportunity he had, regardless of the consequences. He would have killed him in Shinganshina. He would have killed him in Liberio. He would have killed him in the forest. And yet, he didn't, specifically because he wasn't blinded by his need to kill Zeke at all. He had a calm and rational mind about it the entire time, one he continued to exercise to the very end.

And this idea that Levi getting caught in the thunderspear explosion was some sort of "comeuppance" for his violence or his blind desire for Zeke's blood is equally illogical and absurd, and again, completely misunderstands the source of Levi's rage in that moment. Anyone who claims so is engaging in some serious, holier than thou moralizing. Levi torturing Zeke in the cart on the way back to the Capital had nothing to do with his vow to kill him. Levi was grieving, and in a massive amount of emotional distress, because Zeke had just forced him to kill nearly 30 of his own comrades. Men and women Levi had, as with all his comrades, sworn to protect and people for whom he was directly responsible. People that posit this idea that Levi somehow deserved to "pay" for his anger in this moment are essentially claiming that it's always "wrong" to hate or be angry at someone when they've brutally wronged you. That we're always supposed to be "the bigger person" and "forgive" them and "turn the other cheek" and all that moralistic bullshit, and if you don't, then you deserve every bad thing that comes your way. Get the fuck out of here. Levi had EVERY right to be as angry as he was in that moment, and I'm sorry, but anyone who denies him that right is an asshole, and a hypocrite, because there's no such thing as anyone who wouldn't have been viciously, violently angry at someone who had just forced you into slaughtering your own friends and colleagues. Taken especially within the context of who Levi is, with the understanding of how driven he is by the need to protect life and help people, with how much value he places on people's lives, it puts into perspective just exactly how cruel it was what Zeke did to him. How exactly was Levi meant to react? Are we meant to judge him for being as angry as he was? For resorting to violence? Is anyone really going to sit here with a straight face and claim that they wouldn't have felt and done exactly the same in his shoes? I don't buy that for a minute. Most people wouldn't have even possessed Levi's level of restraint. They would have simply killed Zeke, and to hell with the consequences.

Further, Levi's very words to Hange about not understanding how prepared Zeke was to die show that he wasn't purely fueled by anger either, in this moment. It was a rational choice on his part to hook Zeke up to that thunderspear, insurance against his attempted escape, because he believed Zeke wasn't prepared to die, something I've talked about before, here: https://www.tumblr.com/cosmicjoke/746918499422781440/one-thing-i-dont-think-people-really-consider?source=share

Further still, if Isayama had intended for Levi’s desire to kill Zeke to be interpreted as revenge, and all the negative connotations of that, he would have had Levi realize the foolishness of his actions immediately after nearly being blown to Kingdom Come, and shown him remorseful and regretful in that moment over wanting Zeke dead, since, supposedly, him nearly dying was meant to be his lesson and punishment in the foolhardiness of revenge’s pursuit, according to these people. Yet Levi showed no such remorse or regret for wanting Zeke dead, only for him not understanding Zeke’s willingness to die. And Isayama himself wouldn’t have spoken about one of the reasons he didn’t kill Levi being how Levi’s journey wouldn’t be complete without him fulfilling his vow. Levi’s desire to kill Zeke was never framed in a negative light for a reason.

This total misinterpretation of Levi's motives with regard to Zeke is the source of so many of the negative and hateful views about his character that we see floating around, and yet it's continually perpetuated by people, over and over again, and I'm sick of it.

Levi never wanted revenge. He only ever wanted to ensure his comrades didn't die for nothing. It was a noble goal. Revenge isn't noble. But wanting to honor your friends and comrades memories and lives is. Levi never deserved to be punished for that, and honestly, fuck you to anyone who says he did. It takes a particular and acute lack of self-awareness and arrogance for anyone to make such a sickening and cruel claim.

[prismartist]

oh god. foolish was being smart in the interrogation room. he was being incredibly smart.

this fucko (/aff) made sure to be vague and go on tangents as much as possible and basically, intentionally or not, frustrated cellbit enough for him to make assumptions. when cellbit made an assumption, foolish twisted it so that he didn't have to admit jack shit. cellbit said "a mysterious entity contacted you about an arrest" and foolish went, "i suppose you can say that."

and he isn't lying!! he was contacted by cucurucho, who is in many ways mysterious! but cellbit still doesn't actually know that!

and then again, when cellbit asked if foolish knew why he was ordered (or requested, or favored, or whatever) to arrest tazercraft, foolish proceeded to go on about semantics about if he knows "how the ends meet" and what that actually means in the grander scheme of things though he damn well knows it was to avenge mr. mustard. if cellbit had just straight up asked foolish why he arrested pac and mike, instead of if he knew the reason why, he might've given a more honest question.

and every single goddamn question cellbit asks, foolish nitpicks at words to avoid answering them (like him going "you threw in the word 'willingly', and that then suggests..." and other bullshit like that.) when he is fact-checking, he's correcting details that are actually irrelevant in the long run, like if walter bob or bad was the one who told him about mr. mustard's disappearance in the first place. so it's giving this facade of being honest though he's very much not.

foolish is actively trying to make sure that cellbit gets as little information as possible and my god is he doing it. he's making sure to stay vague and rambly and confusing. that's some cheeky sneaky shit! what the fuck ! yeah it's pretty clear he's bullshitting but he's doing such an infuriating job of it you just want to get it over with. cellbit knew that foolish probably had more to say, but decided in the end that it was futile and left it to jaiden. fucking hell two people left in the middle of the interrogation.

foolish doesn't need a lawyer (though jaiden is doing a good job of hyping him up) he could weasel out of this no problem! and he fucking did! cellbit still knows next to nothing about how and why pac and mike were kidnapped. all he knows is that they're gone, and foolish is looking for mr. mustard.

(and the thing is foolish doesn't even have that much information. he went through all that trouble for almost nothing. foolish you beautiful bitch. i hate you (/pos))

[samynnad102687]

Keep Talking and See What Happens

@struttingstag

April 26 Prompt: Keep talking and see what happens | 1943 words | Jegulus

CW: NSFW, Murder, graphic depictions of violence

"I'm on my way back now," James said into his Bluetooth headset.

"Did you get what I asked you to?" Regulus asked as he winced on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, I got it. Why aren't you in bed?"

James hiked the bag up on his shoulder and crossed the road. He ran to the shop to pick up some more medical supplies. Regulus was supposed to be in bed and James was only ten minutes away from the house.

"I'm fine, James."

"If you were fine then you wouldn't be wincing," James replied aggravated. "What was so important you couldn't wait ten more minutes?"

"Stop worrying. I just went to the bathroom." Regulus scoffed as James heard the bed squeak from the new weight. "Besides, it's not like I got shot or anything."

"No, you just got stabbed in the gut because you felt like taunting the Death Eaters."

"Worth it."

"Reg, you need to-" James paused when he realised where he was and who was headed straight for him.

James was five minutes away from his and Regulus' safe house and the Death Eaters were on their territory, which was reason enough for James to take them out. But considering he only had one pistol and a dagger that wasn't a viable option without them retaliating. He also wasn't going to lead them to Regulus. James turned down an alley that led him in the opposite direction and secured the backpack onto his back.

"James?" Regulus asked, clearly concerned based on his tone.

"It's gonna take a little longer, love, but I'll be there as soon as I can," James replied calmly as he slowed down his steps to a leisurely pace. He could feel them following him. "Just got a couple of visitors, that's all."

"Be careful, Jamie."

"Always am, love."

James hung up the phone before he dialled Sirius' number.

"What's up?" Sirius asked on the first ring.

"Might need a clean-up in a little bit."

"Got it. Is your location on?"

James pressed a button on his Bluetooth that sent Sirius his location.

"It is now."

"Got it. How many?" Sirius asked clinically as James heard some rustling in the background.

"Up to three."

"Where's Reg?"

"Safehouse."

"Good. I'll have Remus swing by in a minute."

Another couple of key details and James hung up the phone. He could see them in the mirrors of some of the buildings. It wouldn't take long before they caught up to him, not that he was really trying to get away from them. James started bobbing his head as if he was listening to music. He watched as they increased their pace.

"Well, what do we have here?" Snape taunted as he grabbed James's shoulder to stop him.

"You say that as if you aren't in our territory," James drawled in a bored tone as he pretended to pause his music.

"As if you can do anything without the infamous Black Brothers," Mulciber scoffed.

"I can do quite a lot actually," James smirked devilishly.

"Oh, he's so tough, isn't he?" Avery asked Snape.

"I'm surprised they haven't dropped your ass yet. It's not like you could provide them with anything."

James could feel his patience waning. He wanted to get back to Regulus and take care of his wound before it got any worse. But dealing with these assholes and getting them back to their own territory would have to come first. Sadly. James sighed as he watched the three attempt to rattle him.

"Say, how is dear Regulus? His cousin was wondering," Snape smirked as if he wasn't already on James' list.

"He's perfectly fine. Thanks for asking and you can tell dear Bella that we will decline her offer," James remarked evenly.

"You know, I knew I should have aimed a little higher but Little Reggie does have such a pretty mouth on him. Sharp tongue too. I'm sure we could find a use for it," Mulciber replied suggestively.

"Keep talking and see what happens," James gritted out as he unhooked the snap holding his pistol in place on his hip.

He had had enough of their bullshit.

"Oh, are you gonna call your little guard dog to do something about it?" Avery cooed.

"No." James shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as he cocked his hip.

"No?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, poor little Potter thinks he can do something about it by himself," he mocked.

"And what are you going to possibly do?" Mulciber laughed but it died on his tongue as the bullet pierced his brain.

James had his pistol out and ready before he even started talking, not that any of them noticed. He was the picture of nonchalance as he returned his pistol to its holder. It didn't take long for the other two to realise what happened after his body fell to the ground. By that time, James had his dagger in hand and was waiting for them to make the next move.

It was Avery who charged at him with a knife of his own. James was surprised that neither of them thought to bring a fucking gun with them, not that he wasn't grateful. James preferred his dagger anyway. He preferred getting up close and personal with them. A firearm was too impersonal most of the time but it was effective when he wanted to make a quick point that couldn't be misinterpreted.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Avery shrieked.

James adjusted his stance and flipped the dagger in his hand so the blade was concealed by his forearm and made it easier to slice when needed. He smirked and beckoned them forward with his other hand in a 'Give me your best shot' motion. He let Avery get close enough to swipe his blade and nearly catch James in his side but James was quicker and sliced a long gash into his back as he stumbled past him.

Avery screamed and when James looked back to see him on the ground, Snape snuck up behind him and caught him in the side. It wasn't deep but it was enough to sting and bleed. James turned towards him with a glare two seconds before he connected his fist with Snape's nose, shattering it on impact.

James smirked while Snape grabbed his nose. James stalked towards him to punch him again but clearly, Avery didn't know how to stay down and punched James in the ribs. Two against one wasn't fair but it also wasn't anything James hadn't dealt with before. He growled as he grabbed Avery by the back of the neck and slammed his face into the building next to them, dragging it along until he was next to Snape. Snape was trying to stand up but James planted the sole of his boot into his back to keep him down.

"How's this for tough?" James asked calmly as he slit Avery's throat and watched the life drain from his eyes.

James tossed his limp body aside and focused his attention back on Snape, who was trying to crawl away from him.

"As for you," James bent down, grabbed him by his hair and yanked him back up. "You're going to deliver a little message for me."

"I'm not doing shit for you," Snape spat and James smiled devilishly.

That was exactly the response he was hoping for. James pinned him up against the wall and used his body as a punching bag, landing punch after punch until he was limp in James' hands. As much as he wanted to just kill all three, he needed to make a point. James was covered in blood and had a few scraps but nothing he couldn't take care of when he got back to the safe house.

"Let's try this again. You got your listening ears on now?" James asked as he slapped Snape until he fluttered his eyes open.

"You tell Bella that we decline her offer. There is nothing that they can offer for the Black Brothers to return to them and the next time she sends a weakling into my territory, she'll get the remains in pieces one by one until my point is made clear," James spoke in a tone that was so deadly calm that you could hear a pin drop on a pillow before Snape nodded slightly and James dropped him onto the ground and watched him scramble back to where he came from.

James was securing his dagger back into its holster on his arm when his Bluetooth rang.

"Did you enjoy that?" Sirius asked with a laugh in his ear.

"Is that even a question?" James countered as he picked up the casing off the ground.

He didn't need to since Sirius was nearby for cleanup but it was habit. He'll leave the bullet for Sirius to find though.

"Reggie is with Remus but he keeps trying to leave."

"Yeah, I'm on my way back now," James remarked as he headed out of the alley and back towards the safe house.

It didn't take him long to get there. When he walked inside, he could hear Regulus arguing with Remus to let him leave. Luckily, Remus was just as stubborn as Regulus. James shook his head as he took off his boots and the bag from his back before he walked to the bedroom.

"Love, stop arguing with Remus," James remarked from the door frame he was leaning against.

"Jamie," Regulus said with so much relief in his voice that it broke James' heart a little to make him worry. "You're bleeding."

"Yeah, you should see the other guy," James smirked and Regulus threw a pillow at him before he winced from the pain again. "Okay, that's enough of that. Lay back and let me take care of you."

"I can take care of myself," Regulus grumbled.

Remus quietly left the room after checking that James was okay. James brought the bag over to the bed and started laying out the supplies next to it. He lifted Regulus' shirt to see how his wound was healing. It still looked an angry red and would most likely scar. James removed the bandage before he cleaned the dried blood and applied a healing salve to soothe the redness and help the swelling go down before he placed a new bandage to keep out anything that would infect it.

While James was working, Regulus was trying not to flinch but no matter how many times you get shot or stabbed it still fucking hurts. When James was finished with Regulus, he took off his bloodied shirt and tossed it to the side before he looked in the mirror to assess the damage now that the adrenaline had worn off.

"Who the fuck cut you?" Regulus asked angrily.

James looked down at the cut right above his left hip and sighed, "Snape."

"I'm gonna kill him," Regulus spat as he tried to get out of bed again.

"If he's not dead already," James mused as he thought about how he should have killed him as well.

"You didn't kill him?"

"No, I sent him back with a message for your dear cousin, Bella."

"Why do you get to have all of the fun?" Regulus pouted.

"I don't have all the fun, baby. I just don't antagonise the rival gang for the hell of it."

James walked over to the bed to kiss the pout away. When he pulled away, Regulus reached out to trace the cut gently with a sad expression on his face.

"I still want to kill him."

"I know you do, baby."

Also posted on Ao3: Should Have Listened

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8

Chapter 9: Bitter Knowledge

WC: 6741 | AO3 link

Eddie startled awake with his heart racing, the same way he had at least 3 or 4 other times since he’d fallen asleep, thankful that it appeared to be morning at last.

At least he’d managed to get some rest. 

Master of Puppets might have been working to keep Vecna at bay, but its associated memories were excellent fodder for nightmares. He’d spent the night running from horrifying vision to horrifying vision, and would swear that he could still feel the phantom teeth of a swarm of demobats going to town on his flesh—even now as he lay there in Steve’s bed wide awake running hands over his smooth unmarred torso.

Just to check, just to be sure. 

Steve was still asleep, snoring lightly right beside him. Their hands had parted sometime in the night, but their bodies had shifted dangerously closer. As Eddie waited for his pulse to return to normal, he took the opportunity to gaze openly at the other boy in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to do since he’d come back this time.

The early morning light filtering in through the window fell directly over Steve’s face, making him appear to glow with an ethereal light. Eddie first admired his thick fan of eyelashes, fluttering every so often as Steve dreamt. His gaze then followed the curve of his cheek, wishing he could trace every mole and freckle with his fingertips—or maybe his tongue. He longed to kiss every square inch of Steve’s beautiful face, actually. Lastly his eyes raked over Steve’s plush lips—lips that he knew for a fact were exactly as soft as they looked.

With great effort Eddie finally forced himself to look away before he could give in to his impulses and do something stupid and reckless, something he couldn’t take back.

A glance at the clock showed it was 7am, almost a full two hours past the last time he’d seen those flashing red numbers and yet his tape was still playing. That meant Steve had been up at some point—recently, and taken care of it. Taken care of him.

Eddie groaned internally. One night back in the same bed and he was already well past the point of no return—it was official. 

He was so in love, and he was so fucked. 

This was precisely why he was trying to stay away, to keep his heart locked up tight in a box labeled: Fragile! Do not open under any circumstances! 

He’d been falling, known it even before Steve had kissed him goodbye and shook his reality to its very core. Then they’d both gone and died without Eddie finding out what it had all meant. Had it been some kind of confused experiment on Steve’s part? Right up until the moment Steve had called out his name, and touched him with such tenderness as their lips met, Eddie had been sure the other boy was straight. 

Was it all only some shared-trauma-forced-proximity bullshit? Or had Steve, beyond all reason, been developing real feelings for him too?

Well he’d never fucking know now would he?!

Because he was afraid. Too scared to try again in case they lost to Vecna and he had to start all over—too scared to try anyway and risk finding out Steve didn’t feel the same way about him. 

How many different kinds of coward could he be?

A phone rang suddenly and sharply far too close to Eddie’s head, pulling him forcibly from his brooding. Steve jerked awake and sat up, the sound finally rousing him, and in another moment of serious fucking déjà vu, Eddie snatched up the receiver to stop the incessant noise and passed it over without a word.

The last time they’d done this, he and Steve had huddled together up against the headboard so they could both hear Jonathan and El through the phone. Now, Eddie wanted nothing more than to escape, catch his breath, think—of anything else, but most of all to stop remembering in vivid detail the line of Steve's sleep-warm body pressed up against his own. 

Scrambling out of bed he fled to the bathroom, nearly slamming the door closed behind him in his bid to escape.  

He turned the sink on in hopes the running water would mask the sound of his heaving breath as he hyperventilated—bringing his fist down hard against the marble vanity top repeatedly, until pain radiated up his arm to his elbow, then his shoulder. Letting the physical hurt ground him. 

This was so stupid. He was so—fucking—stupid. Why was he even letting this get to him? There were far more important things to be worried about than his fucking feelings. He glanced up at the mirror, frowning at his own pale, drawn reflection. He needed to get his shit together—at least long enough to get through this, to defeat Vecna and hopefully end the loops. There'd be ample time for a nervous breakdown, with a side of wallowing in self-pity, when it was over. 

He washed his face and neck with cold water, and when he felt like he’d pulled himself together enough to face the world again finally opened the door.

Steve said nothing at first. He sat on the edge of the bed drumming his fingers on his knee, a guarded look in his eyes but wearing a tentative smile. Either he hadn’t heard Eddie’s tantrum from the other side of the door, or he was going to pretend he hadn’t. In either case Eddie was grateful to not have to explain, or rather, make something up to explain. 

“The phone, um, it was Joyce,” Steve said eventually. “They got to—well, I'm not sure exactly where they are, but they got there last night and El is already hard at work. They think she’ll be ready in a few days.”

“That’s good news.” Eddie offered, still hovering awkwardly in the middle of the room, trying desperately to act normal.

“And, there’s an extraction team on the way to get Hopper.”

“Really?” Eddie perked up, for real this time. He was genuinely happy to hear it. Getting the Chief back would mean everything to the party, and to Steve. “Shit, that was fast.”

“I know.” Steve’s smile widened as he rubbed the back of his neck absently. “Maybe Owens was the right call for the job after all.”

-

It was another one of those quiet days full of waiting in the build up to the potential end of the world, but unlike before when he’d enjoyed the quiet time with Steve, now it just made Eddie’s skin itch. 

The kids were still at the Wheeler’s, keeping their distance—for his sake this time rather than Steve’s, though the distraction of too many people crammed into Steve’s living room might have been better than this. At least the girls were around to provide some cushion.

Mercifully, mid-afternoon Robin had a sudden need to make a visit home home, asking Steve to drive her and wait while she spoke to her parents and grabbed a few things, leaving Eddie and Chrissy alone for the first time since the beginning of this loop. 

With both of their respective sources of distraction gone, Eddie thought it might be a good time to check in with her. She’d been very quiet all day, even more so than usual, and the dark circles under her eyes hinted at a significant lack of sleep.

He sat down next to her on the couch where she was curled up with a paperback she’d found somewhere, staring at the same page she’d been on for at least ten minutes. 

“Hey, uh, so how are you doing with all of this? It must be a lot.” He asked carefully.

“I’m okay, I guess." She said after a moment, closing the book and setting it down on the side table. "Sleep is… difficult. I was already having nightmares, so that’s nothing new, just exhausting. It’s a lot to process. Robin has been a lifesaver though. She sits up with me when I can’t sleep, and she’ll go on and on about anything to keep me from thinking about it too much.”

Eddie almost laughed. Robin would be happy to know her ramblings were finally being put to good use. 

“I’m really glad she’s been there for you.” 

“Yeah, me too. I feel bad sometimes though, like, this is nothing compared to what they’ve all been through over the years. Robin’s been filling me in and it’s so awful. And you—honestly, I feel like I should be the one asking you if you’re okay.”

“Who, me?” He made a show of waving her off dramatically. “I’m fine, this is all just another week-in-the-life for me.”

“Eddie.” She scolded.

“Really, though.” He clasped his hands in his lap, looking down at them as he spoke. “Like, sure, it’s been hard, but—how many people get the chance at a do-over? Let alone multiple do-overs? I have a real opportunity to fix things here, and I feel like I have to be grateful for it.”

And he was that—grateful, but he was also miserable about the position he’d found himself in, a little bitter about it too. Why was he the one tasked to carry this burden? Why wasn’t it Steve, or Nancy who got to go back, who remembered? Either one of them would have been a better candidate for the job than him. He was the new guy! Nobody! He’d known nothing of the Upside Down until he got dragged into this madness kicking and screaming. 

Chrissy ducked her head down to catch his eye, and as though she’d read his mind said, “You can be grateful and still be mad about it. You’re allowed.”

He grinned, shaking his head. Damn did he love this girl. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Have I ever, y’know before, did I ever tell you what Vecna showed me?” She asked.

“No.”

Eddie had wondered of course, but knew from Steve, and now from his own experience, how personal it could be. 

“It was mostly visions of my parents and stuff. My mom, she’s awful, always on me about everything—my grades, who I spend time with, my weight, my appearance in general actually. It made me–” Chrissy shook her head, blinking rapidly as she seemed to be forcing back tears. “I don’t know why I let it affect me so much, the things she says, her opinion of me. It seems dumb, after all this.”

Eddie reached out tentatively, laying a hand on her shoulder. She gave him a half smile, leaning into the touch as she went on.

“Knowing that I’ve died—that you’ve died, it sorta puts things in a different perspective, like, what you said about do-overs? Looking back, there’s a lot I would do differently now, I think. I don’t even know how I got where I am, really. I never wanted to be popular, I just went along with the crowd, did what was expected of me—what my parents insisted on. It was easier to do that than figure out what I actually wanted, who I want to be.”

“It can be pretty scary, figuring yourself out.” Eddie offered, something he could relate to in a big, big way.

“Then suddenly I’m the head cheerleader, and Jason is captain of the basketball team—and again, it was expected that we would get together, so I did.” She shrugged, letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t think I ever even liked him, and this whole last week while I’ve been losing my mind not knowing what was happening to me, he never once noticed that I was struggling—not once! When you met me outside by the picnic table, you knew something was wrong within seconds. You cared enough to ask if I was okay, and we barely knew each other!”

Eddie ran his hand up and down her back. “I’m sorry he was an ass, you deserved better.”

She turned to him, a steely look of determination in her eyes. “I think–I think maybe I’m ready now—to be myself, whoever that is.”

“Well, Miss Cunningham, lucky for you I know all about defying expectations and bucking the system. I’d be happy to show you the ropes when this is over.”

“I’d really like that.” 

Encouraged by how freely she shared her experience with him, Eddie found himself wanting to open up too. He hadn’t spoken of his own brush with Vecna to anyone, because who could he tell really? He couldn’t talk to Steve, not now, not anymore. Robin was similarly out, for all sorts of reasons, but Chrissy—somehow he just knew he could trust her.

“Vecna… he was subtle about it when he came after me—at first, anyway. One minute I was standing in the middle of this room talking to Steve, well, fighting with him actually–”

“Fighting?”

Eddie tilted his head back and forth, waffling. He didn’t feel like rehashing those details, it was a moot point now anyway.

“We had a… difference of opinion, not important, but then suddenly he started saying these awful things to me about–” He paused, calculating how much he could share without outing Steve, so to speak. 

“Between you and me—in the last loop Steve and I got, um, very close. We shared a lot of private things with each other. I’m—” 

Eddie swallowed hard. He really was almost sure he could trust her, but that didn't mean fear didn’t sit like a lead weight in his gut when he thought about uttering the words aloud. 

“–Gay, and I haven’t been open with many people about it, but I told him, and he was really great about it.” He smiled to himself at the memory, how quick Steve had been to assure him he was safe, and how unbelievably sweet. “So much more than you’d expect.” 

Suddenly he felt her much smaller hand slide over his, and looked up to meet her eyes.

“I’m glad you told me.” She said, softly.

He pursed his lips, nodding as his shoulders began to relax by small increments. 

“Anyway, Vecna used Steve’s face and voice to say some nasty shit to me about it, and uh, it fucked me up a little to be honest. He also said he knew about the loops now, since he’s been in my head. I guess It doesn’t really change anything, but it’s unnerving as hell.”

Chrissy threw her arms around his shoulders and tugged him hard into her, their faces buried in each other's hair. He’d never been cuddled so violently by someone so small before she came along, it was kind of nice. 

“Is it weird of me to say that I’m happy we’re in this together? I mean, I hate what’s happened—but if it had to happen anyway, then I’m glad I got you as a friend out of it.” Chrissy spoke with her face still hidden in his neck, tone watery. 

“Not weird at all,” he assured her quickly, voice cracking on the words. ”I feel the same way.”

-

Steve and Robin arrived home a while later wearing matching somber expressions. After spending some time at her house they’d swung by Nancy’s to check in with the others, and learned that poor Fred’s body had been found that morning. 

It wasn’t a surprise, but Eddie still found he couldn’t concentrate on much else after learning the news, and he wasn’t the only one. All four of them were pretty subdued as they went through the motions of the night—eating some dinner and killing time until it was reasonably late enough to turn in. 

When the inevitable yawning did begin, Eddie had half a mind to beg Chrissy to switch bed buddies with him. Now that she knew he would never be interested in her–that way–and now that she more-than-likely suspected that his feelings towards Steve were complicated at best, he thought she might go for it. 

But what if his interference ruined whatever was or wasn’t happening between her and Robin? He didn’t want to be responsible for that, and so he said nothing as the two girls trudged up the stairs to their room—he and Steve not far behind.

-

Eddie tossed and turned, still ruminating on what his role in all this was, about Fred and the other victims. He tried to be quiet about it, hoping that Steve had fallen asleep already, but no such luck.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked when he’d adjusted his position for the fifth time. If only he had sounded annoyed or something, then Eddie could have snapped at him that he was fine and been done with it, maybe used the whole thing as an excuse to retreat downstairs to sleep on the couch alone, but Steve, as usual, was utterly sincere, breaking through all his defenses without even trying. 

Eddie sighed. “I was thinking about Patrick. I know Vecna has broken the pattern already, first with you last time, and now with me. But he took Fred just the same, and by that logic Patrick will probably still be next. I—maybe I shouldn't care since he’s one of Jason’s friends, and he was right there with them on the witch hunt for me that first time around, but I don’t know. It feels… shitty to not even try, to let it happen again. It’d be like I’m responsible.”

“It wouldn’t make it your fault.” Steve said.

Eddie groaned, throwing both arms up over his face.

“I just–what’s the point in re-living this shit if I can’t make a difference?”

“Hey,” Steve whispered, rubbing lightly over Eddie’s arm, instantly causing him to break out in goosebumps. "It’s alright, sometimes you can’t save everyone. You helped Chrissy, and if we succeed you’ll have helped the whole town. Maybe that has to be enough?”

Eddie had used the same logic before to make himself feel better where other lives were concerned, but on some level wasn’t that just a cop out? At least the others had gone out to look for Fred, not once had he or anyone else even considered trying to save Patrick.

Eddie dropped the arms from his face, forcing Steve to withdraw his hand.

“But this isn’t like Barb. I know how you feel about—”  

Steve stilled, sucking in a breath.

Shit. 

He’d forgotten for a second. Eddie had all this history in his head—things Steve had shared in different ways, in different times, so many conversations that the other boy would never remember having with him.

“There was nothing you could have done for her, I mean.” Eddie added quickly, relieved when Steve seemed to relax into the bed again. “It was never your fault—but this? I know it’s coming, I even know where it’s likely to happen. I wish I could at least try, but Jason would never let me near him, and even if he did Patrick would never listen to me.”

“What if I went and talked to them? I know I’m not ‘King Steve’ anymore, but I was their captain once, I think they’d hear me out. Who knows, maybe I could help Patrick and get Jason off your back somehow too.

“You would do that?”

“Eddie.” Steve sat up, inching closer, almost hovering over him as they gazed at each other. Time stood still, however briefly, and suddenly Eddie couldn’t breathe. He felt caught, as if simply looking into his eyes had given it all away, like Steve could read his every thought. “Of course I would.” 

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, rolling over and away from Steve… and his soft looks, and that soothing voice, and all his warmth. 

Steve cleared his throat. “Um, because you’re right.” The bed shifted as he too rolled over to face the other way. “We should at least try. I’ll stop by Benny’s tomorrow night when they might be there.”

-

Eddie woke to find their positions had not changed in the night. They were still back-to-back facing opposite directions, and as far away from each other as was possible to be and still inhabit the same bed. 

Nothing had ever felt more wrong, even if it was necessary. 

His tape was quiet, Steve’s too, which caused a moment of panic until Eddie turned over—gingerly to avoid waking Steve—and found that thankfully he seemed to be deeply asleep and relaxed, rather than rigid and in the throes of a psychic attack.

Eddie slid off the bed and crept around to the other side, carefully restarting Steve's tape as he struggled to swallow around the lump in his throat. Throwing caution to the wind, just this once, Eddie ran his fingers through Steve's hair, desperate to feel it one more time, hoping it wouldn’t wake him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to Steve’s sleeping form, breath hitching. “I just can’t.”

Eddie left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him and vowed to spend the rest of the day, maybe the rest of this loop, avoiding Steve—as much as he could anyway.

-

It worked surprisingly well. 

So well in fact that Eddie could only conclude that Steve was avoiding him too. He’d glued himself to Chrissy’s side while Steve did the same with Robin, to both girl’s joint annoyance. 

It was all fine enough until afternoon came, and Chrissy decided to throw a wrench into things, as well as take a page out of Robin’s book, and make an appearance at home. It was brave, considering all she’d told him the day before, and Eddie was so proud of her, even if it meant he’d be stuck here alone with Robin while Steve played chauffeur. 

The kids were slated to return that night, wanting to be together as they got closer and closer to the main event. Eddie used that as a reason to keep himself busy and away from Robin’s knowing glare—straightening up, pulling snacks out of cabinets, and gathering pillows and blankets.

“So, I think they’ll probably be back—”

Eddie flinched, startled at the sudden sound of Robin’s voice coming from directly behind him, sending the teetering pile of food packages he had balanced in his arms scattering to the kitchen floor. 

“Jesus Christ—warn a guy.”

”Sorry, touchy. I’ll stomp my feet next time.” Robin rolled her eyes, stooping down to help him pick up the fallen mess. “As I was saying, Steve will probably be home soon.”

She paused, looking at him expectedly.

“And?”

“Anything you want to talk about before they get back?”

“No.” Eddie stared at her blankly, hoping if he gave her nothing she’d drop it.

“So we’re just going to pretend everything is normal, that we’re not all choking on the sexual tension in this house?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“So you don’t have a huge embarrassing crush on Steve?”

Eddie clenched his jaw. She was baiting him.

“Nope,” he declared, popping his lips.

“Okay, cool.” She narrowed her eyes. “Chrissy then?”

“I think you and I both know she’s not exactly my type.” He admitted.

“I had a hunch, good to have it confirmed though.”

“Is it safe to say she’s more—your type?”

“That would be accurate.”

He flashed her a quick smile. “I had a hunch.”

“Glad we cleared that up.” She said, tilting her head at him. “Steve knows about me, for the record. He’s very… accepting. Just, y’know, in case you ever felt like you wanted to tell him about yourself? He’d be good with it.”

“Thanks, uh” Eddie looked away, wringing his hands. “I believe you, but I–I don’t think I’ll be doing that—not anytime soon at least.”

Robin furrowed her brow, and he was sure she had more to say on the matter but for once timing was actually on his side. They heard Chrissy and Steve come through the front door before she could open her mouth again, and he took advantage of the excuse to walk away and meet them in the hall—though Robin followed right behind him, grumbling to herself. 

The first thing Eddie noticed were Chrissy’s red-rimmed eyes. He worried for a moment but then he saw her broad, bright smile—could see how much lighter she looked, as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. 

She must have confronted her parents. He couldn’t wait to hear all about it, but before he could even ask, there was a sudden knock on the door she and Steve had just come through.

All four of them were immediately on high alert. The kids weren’t due yet, not to mention the fact that if it was them or Nancy, they would have likely waltzed right in. As Eddie watched, something moved past the frosted glass of the door’s sidelight, the blurry shape of an arm clad in the all too familiar green and white of a Hawkins High letterman jacket.

What the fuck? 

Steve waved the rest of them back, catching and holding Eddie’s gaze. He said nothing aloud but may as well have screamed at him to stay away from the door, assuming the role of protector as though they hadn’t spent all day in this weird limbo, not speaking, not even looking at each other.

Eddie didn’t like it, but he took the girls and backed away into the living room where they would still be able to hear whatever was said, but would be hidden from view. 

Steve's feet shuffled, the door creaking as he swung it open.

“Carver, what are you–” Steve began, confirming their unexpected guest’s identity.

Jason quickly cut him off. “I want to talk to her.” 

“Who?”

“Don't play dumb, Harrington. Let me see Chrissy.”

“Cunningham?” Steve asked, projecting very believable confusion. “What makes you think she’d be here?” 

Eddie was mildly impressed by Steve’s acting skills. 

“You tell me—is this your thing now? Couldn’t make it into college so you're poaching other guy’s girls to make yourself feel like less of a loser?”

“What? No!”

“Don’t lie to me,” Jason snarled. “I haven’t seen her since the game on Friday night, and she hasn’t been home once since then, until today. Imagine my surprise when I drove past her house only to see you sitting out front in your car waiting for her.”

“What the fuck!” Steve snapped. “Are you her boyfriend or her stalker?!”

There were grunts and more shuffling as both boys came into view. Jason had his hands fisted into Steve's shirt—backing him up into the wall across from the living room as he forced his way inside the house. 

“Jason, stop!” Chrissy shouted from where she was tucked behind Eddie, Robin at her side. 

He released Steve, whirling suddenly at the sound of her voice, eyes widening when they settled on Eddie.

“You!” 

Jason pointed a finger, body tensing to lunge over the threshold, but before he could move more than a step in Eddie’s direction, Steve had locked an arm around his chest holding him back. He tried to maneuver his other arm around the boy’s head, in some move that Eddie was sure had a name in the wrestling world, but Jason twisted in his hold, easily slipping out of the grip. He was free again, but the effort had drawn his attention back to Steve and away from Eddie and the girls, which, knowing Steve, had probably been his only goal all along.

Steve cocked his arm back, throwing the first punch, to Eddie’s shock—his fist glancing off the edge of Jason's jaw. It was enough to turn his head but nowhere near enough to put him down. 

Jason retaliated, landing a shot to Steve’s cheek and another punishing blow right in his eye—he was going to have one hell of a shiner later, or worse. 

Chrissy screamed Jason’s name again, begging him to stop, and tried to step around Eddie. He stopped her, gently guiding her back into Robin’s arms before joining the fight himself. 

In a few quick strides he was there, catching Jason around the wrist as he pulled back for yet another punch. Squeezing, Eddie put as much pressure around the bone as he could. It wasn’t hard to find the strength or motivation, remembering how it’d been Jason's fault that Steve died last time around.

“That’s enough,” Eddie growled into his ear. 

“Don’t touch me!” Jason shrieked, trying and failing to pull himself out of Eddie's grasp. Panic filled his eyes for a moment, then he rammed his shoulder into Eddie’s chest as hard as he could. 

The hit to his sternum shocked Eddie into letting go, losing his balance in the process and causing him to fall hard on his back to the floor. On instinct he curled himself into a ball, protecting his middle from the kicks he was sure were coming—it wouldn’t have been the first time—but they never did. 

“Get the hell out of here before I call the cops, Carver.” Steve shouted. 

Eddie raised his head to see that Steve had somehow managed to move Jason back towards the still open front door, at the same time Chrissy and Robin appeared at his side helping him up, and the three of them flanked Steve as best they could in the narrow hallway.

“And tell them what? You hit me first!” Jason shouted.

Steve reached up to tenderly touch his already inflamed eye, and winced. “It’ll be our word against yours. Who do you think they’re gonna believe?” He punctuated his point by giving Jason one last shove out the door and onto the landing, spitting blood at his feet—red splattering his white sneakers.

A look of revulsion flashed across Jason’s face, but he stood his ground, gesturing at Chrissy. “I’ll leave when she tells me to go.”

Eddie couldn’t believe it, how fucking delusional was this guy? 

Chrissy gaped, sharing his disbelief, and threw her hands up. “I already told you to go! It’s over, Jason.”

“Chrissy, baby, are you really leaving me for Harrington? Or worse, Munson?!”

She shook her head, nose wrinkling with disgust. “I’m leaving you—for me. Now get the hell out of here, and leave us alone!”

“You’ll regret this.” Jason growled.

“Right now, the only thing I regret is ever thinking you were a good guy.”

With that, Jason finally stormed off to his Jeep, the four of them watching as he drove away until the car was out of sight.

When they were safely back inside Chrissy broke down, gently weeping while Robin held her, assuring her that it was okay, that it was over now. 

Eddie went right for Steve to assess him for damage, and though it’d been a short fight he didn’t look so great. He was bleeding a little from his lip and one of his eyes was rapidly swelling shut.

“Come on." Eddie took Steve’s arm, steering him towards the stairs. He’d gone quiet the minute Jason had left and seemed a little out of it now. "I’ll help you get cleaned up.”

-

Eddie guided Steve through his own bedroom to the bathroom, sitting him down on the closed lid of the toilet—an ironic reversal of roles from the last loop that wasn’t lost on him—and crouched to pull the first aid kit out from under the sink. 

The moment he set it up on the counter the phone began to ring in the other room. He glanced at Steve, but the other boy gave no reaction, as if he didn’t even hear it. Eddie chewed his lip. He would have let it go but they hadn’t heard from Joyce since the morning before. It could be important.

He hurried out to answer it.

“Hello? Uh, Harrington Residence.”

“Oh! Eddie? Honey, it’s Joyce. Sorry I was expecting Steve.”

"Yeah, he’s–uh,” Eddie hedged. “Is everything alright there?" 

“The whole process has been pretty tough on El, but she’s doing well—she's almost ready. Owens wants to make sure we’re gone before that raid you told us about happens. They're flying us to Hawkins tomorrow, as soon as Hopper gets here.”

“No shit? He’s really—they got him out?!”

Joyce let out a soft wet laugh. “I know, it’s unbelievable. I didn’t get to talk to him yet myself, but the Doc swore to me that he’s alive, safe, and on his way here.”

“That’s great news, I can’t wait to tell Steve.”

“How’s he doing? He gets so focused on everyone else when these things happen that he forgets to take care of himself.”

“Haven't noticed,” Eddie mumbled under his breath. “He’s okay, I think. We had a minor… altercation today. Nothing Upside Down related exactly, just regular humans being shitty, but–”

“He got himself hurt, didn’t he?”

“The guy, he was–” Eddie gripped the receiver, shaking his head. “He was going to come for me, but Steve pulled him back. Got his face bashed in for his troubles.”

“Poor thing. You’ll take care of him, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” Eddie forced out through a painful tightening in his chest. “I’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

He hung up and quickly returned to the bathroom, heart dropping when he found Steve now on the floor with his head between his knees, breath coming in short gasps. Eddie threw himself down, kneeling in front of him, running hands up and down Steve’s arms—his skin cool and tacky. 

Fuck, he’d been gone for too long—never should have left him alone like this in the first place. 

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re alright,” Eddie cooed. “Hey, can you look at me—please?”

Steve slowly raised his head, blinking tears away as he looked up at Eddie with his one good eye, the other now completely swollen shut—bruise darkening by the minute. 

“There you are.” Eddie forced a smile, even though the sight of Steve banged up like this and in tears only made him want to break down too. “Take some slow breaths with me, Stevie. Can you do that?”

He had absolutely no idea what he was doing, only trying to imitate what Steve had done for him once upon a time. 

Steve gave a shallow nod, holding his gaze as they breathed together. 

“That’s it, you’re doing so well.” 

They spent several minutes just like that, the rest of the world outside this room ceasing to exist until Steve was calm and his face dry. 

When it seemed safe to move, Eddie rose to his feet, freezing when Steve’s hand shot out to grasp his. 

“Don’t–” Steve choked out.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie assured him, cupping the unhurt side of Steve's face gently with his free hand. “Just bringing the first aid kit down to the floor here so I can clean you up.”

“Oh.”

Steve let him go, watching quietly as he worked, his eye never once leaving Eddie’s face. 

He tried not to stare back, cheeks growing hot, his own heartbeat thrumming loudly in his ears as he focused on cleaning Steve’s skin and disinfecting the split on his lip.

“You need ice,” Eddie whispered breathily when there was nothing more to do and Steve was as patched up as he was going to get. He stashed the first aid supplies back under the sink, rushing out a quick, “I’ll be right back,” before escaping downstairs. 

On his way to the kitchen he caught sight of the girls cuddling up on the couch. Chrissy’s head was in Robin’s lap and they spoke softly while Robin ran fingers through the other girl's hair.  

He quietly grabbed a bag of peas from the freezer, trying not to disturb their moment, and crept back upstairs. 

Steve was right where he had left him on the floor, looking mildly more himself. Eddie gulped, kneeling again as he held the frozen bag of vegetables up to Steve’s face and tried to breathe evenly.

“Thank you.” Steve said, raising a hand up to cover his, helping to hold the ice pack in place, making his heart race impossibly faster. “And I'm sorry about freaking out.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Eddie said quickly, biting down on his lip as he took his hand away. He sat back on his heels to put a little more distance between them, the proximity beginning to make him dizzy. 

Steve leaned his head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what happened, it wasn’t even a bad fight, I just—I got stuck in my head I guess, thinking about the last time my eye got fucked up like this.”

“Starcourt?” Eddie guessed.

“Yeah.”

“You know, before it was me that Jason beat the shit out of, but what I didn’t tell everyone during storytime was how, as soon as I got here and you saw my messed up face, you brought me into this room and fixed me up—set my broken nose for me and everything. Then I proceeded to have a full-on blubbering meltdown right where you’re sitting now. I hadn’t even explained anything yet, you had no idea what I was doing here and yet you cleaned me up and talked me down from a panic attack, no questions asked.”

Steve stared at him, frowning.

“I guess what I’m saying is, I’m happy to return the favor.”

Slowly, inexplicably, Steve’s frown morphed into a smile, then into a laugh as he pitched sideways.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s so funny, Harrington?”

“I can’t believe you let me set your nose!” Steve exploded, still chuckling. “You’re lucky that was in the last loop, that shit definitely would have healed crooked.”

“But—wait—what?!” Eddie sputtered. “You said you’d done it a bunch of times!”

“No man, I’ve had It done for me before, but I don’t know what I must have been thinking! Maybe I knew you wouldn’t get it checked out so it would be better than nothing?”

“I absolutely would not have gone to the hospital, so you’d have been right about that.” Eddie replied and finally broke, laughter spilling out of him now too. It was so absurd, and maybe it was because they were tired, and it’d been a rough day in a long string of even rougher days, but their mutual hysterics built and built until they were both clutching their sides.

-

By the time they made their way downstairs the kids and Nancy had arrived, and Eddie filled everyone in on Joyce’s most recent call, minus the details about Hopper of course, though he had shared that with Steve. 

For once the pieces were all falling into place, the fight with Jason notwithstanding, and for better or worse, Eddie let himself get caught up in the hopeful atmosphere as everyone celebrated the news that in less than 24 hours their whole group would be together again. 

After a long night of laughter, popcorn fights and a movie marathon, everyone had fallen asleep wherever they landed. Nancy, Robin, and Chrissy on one couch, Eddie and Steve on the other, and all the younger teens and Erica in a giant nest of blankets in the middle of the floor.

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he’d been out when a series of loud bangs pulled him from sleep. He blinked, looking around for a moment confused until he remembered where he was. The living room was still cloaked in darkness, no light coming in through the windows, the sun only just beginning to rise.

It happened again, louder this time, and Eddie realized it was someone knocking—hard. Steve jerked upwards hearing it now too, his concerned eyes meeting Eddie’s. Instantly they were both on their feet and rushing to the door. 

It was too dark to see anything through the glass. Eddie couldn't imagine it was Jason coming back for round two, not at this hour, but Steve was apparently taking no chances—pulling his nail bat out of the nearby umbrella stand as he set his hand on the deadbolt. 

Eddie hadn’t even realized he’d brought it downstairs. 

Steve unlocked the door and swung it open, revealing a thin man with short buzzed hair standing in the doorway. He wore a dirty blue jumpsuit, and what little bare skin showed was covered in a layer of sweat and grime. 

There was something familiar about the man’s face. Eddie squinted, urging his sleep addled brain to get with the program, when suddenly it clicked.

“Hop?” Steve asked, voice trembling as he also put two and two together.

The man—Hopper, looked at Eddie curiously before swinging his gaze back to Steve, and smiled. 

“Hey, kid.”

Chapter 10

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated, and if you want to be tagged just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Permanent taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @penny00dreadful

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[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Hi there! I don’t know if you write poly Sinclair or not but if you do could I get a poly Sinclair x reader (female or gender neutral is fine) where the reader gets really mad at someone for not understanding what they want despite how many times they explain and so the boys comfort her/them and calm them down?

I’m getting really frustrated with my counselor for basically ignoring what I’m saying to the point where I want to scream and cry and I just really need some x reader comfort right now lol, but no pressure of course! Sorry if this is over stepping anything! Have a lovely day/night!

pairing: poly!sinclair x gn!reader

summary: when you get back from a difficult counsellor appointment, the sinclairs try to offer you some comfort

warnings: minor injury detail, blood

a/n: this isn't overstepping at all, i'm happy to write this for you! thank you so much for requesting, sorry it took a while, and i hope you enjoy! <3

also, sorry to hear your counsellor's being so difficult, i know the feeling when people don't listen to you. if you ever need to talk, my dms are always open :)

word count: 905

You were so frustrated you felt like you were about to explode as you walked through the front door of the house, Bo lounging about on the couch, Vincent clearly elsewhere.

It didn't take Bo long to notice something was up, as he stood up from the couch, proceeding to follow you into the kitchen. "The hell's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." You muttered, getting a glass of water as Bo stood beside you, leaning against the counter.

You'd just come back from a counselling session, and they hadn't listened to a word you'd said. You might as well have been talking to a brick wall.

"Well I think we both know that's bullshit, sweetheart." Bo argued, watching you as you leaned over the sink. "So what's the matter with you?"

"It doesn't matter."

Before Bo could say anything else, the front door swung open, Lester walking in with Jonesy happily circling his feet.

He was covered in dirt and smelled like wet dog as he walked into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge. He didn't even register you and Bo at first, as he sat down at the table with a bottle of orange juice, gulping it down like his life depended on it.

But once he finally acknowledged you both, he became mildly concerned by the agitated look on Bo's face. "You alright, (y/n)?"

"Fine." You answered, turning from the sink, only to crash into Vincent, the glass in your hand falling to the floor.

And that was the final straw, the thing to completely shatter the wall you had put up.

Tears burned your eyes as you bent down to start picking up the broken glass, and you wanted to scream, you wanted to yell at everyone in the room right now.

But all you could do was try desperately to hold back tears as you focused on picking up the glass.

Vincent was soon kneeling in front of you, attempting to help with the cleanup, but if you were being honest, you just wanted to be left alone right now.

All your frustration was bubbling up inside of you now, and you were worried you'd end up taking it out on the brothers, which would've been awful considering they'd done nothing wrong.

You picked up another piece of glass, adding it to the small pile you were creating in the palm of your hand, desperately trying to block everybody out as you did.

But the second Bo's hands came over yours, you were unable to keep yourself calm, turning and shoving him away from you, forgetting about the broken glass that was now enclosed in your fist.

You winced when you felt the glass pierce your skin, warm blood beginning to run across the palm of your hand.

Bo immediately spotted the blood seeping through your fingers, urging you to drop the glass as you opened your hand.

You practically stayed there in silence as Bo helped you up off the floor, instructing Vincent to go and get the first aid kit, telling Lester to clean up the mess.

"And make sure you keep the damn dog away from it. We don't want no more injuries around here." He'd added, as he guided you into the living room, sitting you down on the couch and kneeling in front of you, his hands still cradling your injured one.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong?" He finally asked you, concern in his eyes as he looked up at you.

Silent tears were staining your cheeks as you looked at him, all the pent up emotion finally spilling out of you.

You eventually offered him a brief explanation, to which he was surprisingly understanding.

"Alright, well let's take care of that hand and we can all relax, okay?" He told you.

You gave him a quiet nod, just as Vincent returned with the first aid kit.

He quickly looked you over, his rough hands carefully wrapped around your own as he inspected the injury. And he concluded that it wasn't serious, deciding to simply clean it up and wrap it.

Once he was finished, Bo joined you on the couch, Vincent coming to sit on the other side of you. And you were even more shocked when Bo handed you the remote, considering he never let anybody touch the remote.

A few moments passed and Lester finally arrived in the living room, carrying a slightly stained mug in his hands.

"Thought I'd make you some herbal tea." He smiled, handing you the cup. "Heard it's good for stress and stuff."

You offered him a small smile, before taking a sip of the tea. And it took everything in you not to visibly cringe from the taste. It was fucking digusting, but you still appreciated the gesture.

Lester then joined you all on the couch, his eyes never leaving you as he watched you sipping the tea.

To be completely honest, Bo and Vincent couldn't stop their gaze from wandering to you either. They all just wanted to make sure that you were okay. You meant so much to them, and despite their callous lifestyle, they couldn't bear to see you hurting.

But as you sat with them in front of the TV, a cheesy romance movie playing on the screen, you found that you were at peace. Being here, with your boys, you were home. And you wouldn't want it any other way.

[Main Masterlist]

[glacierclear]

Okay, so I need a whole fucking rant about Leon's trauma from you, just straight up ted-talk, please, I'm begging you, just any though about this topic that's rattling in your brain

oh good lord, anon. im taking deep breathes but why would you ask me this why would y-

im putting this under a cut because other wise it'd be annoying

need everyone to keep in mind that im still in the baby beginning stages of my resident evil obsession so finer details pertaining to lore and stuff i will not be aware of !!!!! a lot of this is probably headcannoning anyways...

leon's entire character makes me so sad but so stupidly passionate. this young, bright-eyed boy who just wanted to help people. being forced into an unending nightmare. the actor in re2r did such a good job portraying his earnest flavor of justice.

the fact that you can tell he thoroughly believes everything is his fault and even if you told him none of it was his fault he would probably just cry and pretend to accept what you're saying but none of it would reach his heart. and he's not even half-assing anything. he wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't do everything in his power to save people, to do his job, and even then, he can't forgive himself when he does...

that scene in re2r where he first meets marvin and is like "there was another cop...i tried to save him...i tried..." and you can see his lips quiver and he has to bite them to keep himself from collapsing in on himself. it KILLS ME.

and even after that nightmare he was forced into being DSO's little attack dog for the rest of his life. he probably thinks that's what he deserves. he doesn't deserve to have a proper chance at life anymore after screwing up raccoon city so bad. and he probably doesn't have anyone he can really confide in...not truly.

any relationship he manages to have outside of work is probably so loveless. i feel like he is undeniably attracted to partners who don't value him. it validates the part of him that thinks he's the reason all those people died.

maybe he intentionally lets himself get hurt on missions. he drinks until he can't stay awake, until he barfs it all up and then he drinks some more. because otherwise his brain won't stop reliving the past. he probably knows he's sexy. that he's objectively handsome. but he's utterly convinced that if anyone knew him. like actually knew him. they'd be horrified and run away. and he knows he doesn't deserve a good life partner. not really. not truly. he wouldn't be able to make them happy.......

that being said he probably loves animals so much. especially dogs. unconditional love that he can very clearly see, reciprocate, and receive. it's uncomplicated.

it's rare he gets through the night without waking up. either by nightmares or panic attacks or some form of "i feel like im gonna be killed" . he probably trains for hours and hours a week. he has to get better he has to BE better. he has to do it for the people who live and who died. he carries all that on his shoulders. and considering how many times he's been infected with bullshit viruses and parasites over the years he's probably convinced he's JUST LIKE the monsters he kills and that maybe, at any moment, he could hurt those in his life.

and to top it all off. for everything he has to go through and everything he has to fight and everything he has to kill for. he has to do all of that with fucking hair in his eyes because he refuses to get a different haircut.

[raguna-blade]

having had my day devoured by the newest hbomberguy vid (been a short day, it happens) i think the thing most impressive going on here vid wise is the degree of build up that goes on here.

like yes, fuck james sommerton, it's real hard to imagine that you accidentally duped shit that many times for that long, but we get it, fuck him and the other guys.

no what i found real interesting is the way the whole essay was constructed really really did spend an almost excessive amount of time building up the foundation of how the youtube plagiarism and such goes on, coming from pretty basic baby shit that none the less required a bit of effort to do (the game reviewer dude) to a more complicated but still effort requiring bit with illuminaughti and the cinemassacre stuff, to even MORE effort being required (until you found it admittedly) with the internet historian who, at the very least, seemed to be just the one time unless I glitched out and missed other stuff.

Like way back with the game review he goes ok but this is actually a really transparent attempt at dealing with the fallout of being caught doing this, it's just actually a bad misdirect but because it is we can see how this actually works so when we see more experienced and better people do it, it'll be easier to see.

And that was true, like it came up frequently throughout the video.

But this was a tremendous amount of careful, pretty considered build up going on here, and you would expect, especially given the length of the video and the section focusing on him, that what you were going to get when we got the Sommerton, was some REAL bullshit, like some grade A "Damn I hate to see it but fuck if they didn't plagiarise but good and here's how and what"

That'd be the thrust right? That's generally how you build up the stakes, the final point is usually where it's going to be the most complicated and detailed, where you'd need the level of build up and experience established (such as you can in a video, even a long 2 hour set up being what it is) so that you can see all the techniques and tricks and shit and it's just....

Holy Fuck. I'm not gonna make light of how he got away with what he did, because lord knows i would have fell for it trivially (even with vids that DO actually give bibliographies i don't usually do the reading I just kinda trust that it's fine. It's something to work on I suppose especially in light of this) but the absolute level of laziness here is something fucking WILD to see on display.

Like i'm stealing the last bit from @cryptotheism post here

But genuinely how the actual FUCK do you read that much, or hell even just SCAN that much for a given subject and not have even a mental shorthand of how you wanna phrase the same information? Like not even a condensed version of their points? Just straight up word for word stealing? AND YOU INTERLACE THEM WITH OTHER AUTHORS AT POINTS?

Like this is damn near cartoon levels of sloth going on here. You are working so hard to work so little that you're working harder than it would take for you to actually just do something original at that point. like it's not even the whole goddamn thing in a lot of places, it's parts! You had to understand at LEAST the individual points made there, and understand that they connected to some degree to the other related points, select JUST THOSE RELEVANT BITS, and shove them into the essay but you don't...You don't even change them up enough that a quickie google search would have at least some trouble to find them?

This gets away from the point i was initially going with, i'm kinda doing this off the top of my head fresh off the vid and winding down, but it's wild that for all that he set up in the first half of the vid a bevy of techniques, ways around things to not immediately ding bullshit, how to play off if you DO get caught, and all that and it damn near turns out you didn't fucking need it because dude was basically getting by and raw...whats' the word i'm looking for here. Arrogance? Absolute But Unearned Self Confidence (pretty sure that's arrogance) for what looks like it was damn near fucking amateur hour for how well he actually hid what he was pulling from.

An excellent video, and the breakdown is definitely more complicated than that for all that I feel like i'm underselling it but it's like i was built up ready and trained, primed to see bullshit everywhere, and then i see a series of spike pits with signs in front of them saying where they are but even though it's obvious it's SO MUCH you start second guessing yourself at a point.

[chilchucks-timbs]

What do you think of the sequel of twewy then? You talk a lot about the original but I'm interested in your opinion of the second part because I saw a few fans disappointed :o

OKAY. Omg.

So first of all? Soundtrack? SLAPS. We won. We won with the sequel soundtrack. I actually prefer some of the new remixes to the original!

The artwork? Stuck to the original style. Can’t complain at all. The new designs? PEAK. They’re so cool. There’s new shopkeepers- who look AWESOME- who have LORE. We can access NPC LORE. I read about one who is married to one of the players? Catch me eating popcorn at that story.

Shout out to the sprites you get when you’re feeding your party members? They’re so cute. In original TWEWY we just had a voice telling us if they liked it after I’ve fed them. NOW we get to know via their face going 🤢 or 🥺 BEFORE they eat so I can give them something they definelty like! and I think that’s fun and funky fresh.

Gameplay? Fantastic. Absolutely brilliant. - the original game had a switch port and honestly? I really think they should’ve done better with the controls. What worked and was beautiful for the ds- felt very clunky on the switch. Especially when playing console? I mean what in the Wii controller buLLSHIT. I need my attacks ACCURATE and on tv that’s very very hard. My friend managed it but? Maybe I just need to get good LSLGFSPALDL. But NEO twewy? beautiful. Perfect. Great for the switch. no complaints on the new battle system.

The story:

edit: THE HUMOUR IS THERE. I FORGOR. I forgot how fucking funny it is. The amount of screenshots I have? Hilarious. Not any like quotable moments like there is in the original game. But there’s so much silly billy shit going on. Bunch of CLOWNS I swear.

Its messaging is not driven home as much as the original twewy is. Like my friend had to explain to me what they were doing because it’s very very subtle. The characters are changing but only just a little. -unlike the first game which, like? At the end of the game? These guys are CLEARLY not the same people who entered the game!! These are Zuko ATLA level transformations!!!: whereas Neo twewy game says? Hey. Your actions are kinda sucky bro. Ever thought about changing up your style? Like it’s THERE. But it’s clearly not the CORE of the game like the first one. And that’s where it falls flat FOR ME. I LOVE and ADORE character development and it’s just not the focus of NEO twewy. But that doesn’t mean I hated the game. I just don’t prefer it over the original.

What NEO twewy DOES focus on is world building which. I think they’ve made some super cool and interesting choices. Even if I, and many Joshua kiryu fans don’t agree with them. 💛 we just straight up ignore the new lore because we don’t like it- the one around Joshua anyway. They bring in some new reapers and some new plot line surrounding shinjuku. That’s fine. That’s fun. But. Joshua? MY MAN? No square enix, you don’t know my blorbo of 10 years better than me :))

So. In conclusion. I was not DISAPPOINTED. I just think they lost the core of what twewy meant to people for the sake of focusing on the new details theyve added. I think rindo and fret and nagi deserved better development.

ALSO IDK HOW I FEEL ABOUT TEAMS? I MISS PARTNERS. LIKE TEAMS IS FINE I GUESS BUT. PARTNER WAS SPECIAL.

Okokok real conclusion is that I was not disappointed. I had fun. I loved a lot about this game. But the original hit home so hard, and the sequel was just a good game.

[remedyxtragedy]

Important conversation to be had up ahead--

There are plenty of absurd things in this world I've long since stopping caring about because it is my understanding that there is only so much that can come from fretting over things that are beyond our control, however still I must reiterate that there are equally as many absurd things even I absolutely have to recognize and address because too often do they just fly under the radar. Such things including the romanticization of murderers, serial killers, and literally any disgusting degenerate who we should unconditionally deplore and reject.

Why, why in good God's name is this even an issue? Why must people like this further taint my perceptions of humanity? Frequently, I try to remind myself that this world is still worth living in, that out there exists a vast sea of good, benevolent people who make the experience all the more tolerable and that I shouldn't let a few bad eggs ruin the joyride of life, but then...when I go on the internet and stumble upon yet another case of some fatherless disgrace sympathizing with, simping for, and sometimes even flat out idolizing a serial killer, whether they're real or fictional, instantly I want to leap out the nearest window because I just cannot fathom for the life of me how these people are even real and how on a daily basis, I am coexisting with them.

I don't know why some people think that just because they're folding over a fictional serial killer it's trivial next to the fans of real life shit stains on the cloth of humanity, but I will gladly take them by the hand, sit their ignorant asses down, and explain in vivid detail why that is an abhorrently unsound mindset. I can't help but glare at my own sister in disgust every time she goes on about how she like's Ghost Face; my scorn is not exclusive to people outside my family--I either hate or love everyone, no one is spared.

There's a stark contrast between admiring how these characters are written and incorporating them into your work innocuously, as I too can resonate with, and just straight up finding them attractive regardless of the profoundly disgusting things they've done. I don't know what the psychology behind this looks like, I'm obviously in so such way educated in that regard, but maybe It's really easy for me to not fall head over heels for legit menaces to law and order because in my time I've read a good few encyclopedias on these kinds of people and am now cursed with the knowledge of how life can, has, and always will be horrifically desecrated by these monsters. It's just one of the few things I just cannot stomach.

Confidently, I can declare that we as a species are regressing, and it's evident in the good-for-nothings who spew nothing but parochial, myopic bullshit and are ever so sneakily infiltrating the public scene. As I'm a Christian, I trust in Jesus's return and the rapture, but as an individually intuitive girl with a wild imagination and dark thoughts that ceaselessly loom over me no matter how badly I want them to go away, a funny thought I quite like entertaining is that every effort humans make to consolidate our presence here on Earth only brings us closer to our inevitable demise, at some point we will outstay our welcome in this world, try and bush barriers we were not mean to, and the outcome is gonna be ugly. It all starts with little oddities here and there, little creases and cracks being formed in our design, and those things amass into a bigger formidable issue composed of all the fissures we've failed to patch, and that happens over and over all gain until it balloons far out of our control into a permanent fracture that we're just gonna have to learn how to mold around and coexist with. Perhaps one day, and one day soon, they become too much for the scaffolds of our civilizations to bear, which at that point causes the creeds and views we've founded our homes, hospitals, economy, society, and government upon to come toppling over until finally we find ourselves descending into a downward incline towards total catastrophe. Let it be known, that Idiosyncratic is founded upon this random notion I threw together during a more darker period in my life. I never would've thought such misanthropic thinking would culminate into the best premise I've ever come up with, obviously in my personal person.

Imma be working on a series of artworks showcasing what the Whitman propaganda in my book is gonna look like, and an idea I have for one of them is a visual displaying the human evolution chart except after the Homo Sapien stage we start regressing all the way back to whatever the hell the first stage is, until again they continue to evolve but iat the end of this series instead of there being a human it's Whitman himself, who is by the by no way shape or form human. It's like, we rose, we fell, then rose again--but no longer are we what we were before. I probably sound mad right now, but I promise it'll make a lot more sense once I actually make it.

Anyways, that's all I got to say right now, but just as a final comment--why is it that people are so adamant that it's either science or religion? Why can't everything be perfectly and meticulously intertwined? The way I see it, faith is not founded upon having absolute definitive proof of a a higher omnipotent being, it's believing in them and trusting in them unconditionally and wholeheartedly, you needn't know that they're there to know that they're there, if that makes sense. For me, it was never a matter of whether or not God is real--that much is practically innate to my being--it was always, why does he work in such esoteric ways? When I was younger, the answer was far beyond me, but now I know better--and I am endlessly astounded by God's work. That's my take, though.

[enchantra35]

Reflections on V4 & V5 of RWBY by a first time watcher

(Lengthy post ahead)

Hi, it's be again, back on my bullshit. First of all, I'd like to say that I didn’t expect my first post to get that much attention LOL. I'd like to clarify (again) two points:

First, I agree with most people's explanations. I didn't mean to sound like I was accusing fans for not thinking that bumbleby would become canon. My intention was to point out to some earlier hints, and I realize now that I could have used some better phrasing. As I explained elsewhere, when rwby aired, I was too young to know anything about the state of queer representation in media at the time. Now of course I know better, although I never got to experience that kind of anxiety - at least, not to that extent. My second point is that I was mostly referring towards homophobes and incels who were trying to persuade shippers that bumbleby wasn't happening, and not to fans who couldn't be certain due to the overall circumstances.

With that said, the aim of this post is mainly to discuss some things I've noticed while watching volumes 4 & 5. There wasn't much I wished to comment on after finishing v4 as I found it very transitional, so I decided to do one unified post for both volumes, especially since someone suggested to watch these volumes as one. Let me now get to the main points I'd like to mention.

-Edit: I forgot one of the most important motifs imo; the moon. I noticed how each volume it looks bit by bit more ruined, showing how the world below is also falling it chaos and society as it is known is destroyed. Also, it's eventual (potential) complete destruction will make the nights darker, symbolizing the triumph of evil. I love subtle details like that.

- Ozpin's and Crow's dynamic really reminds me of Dumbledore and Snape. Ozpin in particular reminds me very much of Dumbledore - and I definitely don't mean that as a good thing. Although he clearly has good intentions and he's a "good guy" per se, sometimes it feels like he's using his students as sacrificial lamps for the greater good. Personally, I'm not exactly font of the idea of pushing the fate of the world onto the shoulders of a bunch of teenagers. Oscar is still a KID and all he's ever known is how to be a farmer and suddenly he's sharing a body with one of the smartest and most powerful people to ever walk the earth and their fates are suddenly intertwined. That's so insane. And on top of everything, Ozpin isn't 100% honest with him. I'm glad that Yang confronts him about keeping secrets. I will give it to him however that he's honest enough to admit his mistakes.

-Raven is probably one of the most fascinating characters. Can't say whether I like her or hate her, but there are so many layers to touch upon. It's interesting how she's constantly trying to prove to others - and essentially to the viewers as well - that she's cruel, smart and calculating (and she definitely is all those things) and that she doesn't care about trifle things, but ultimately she fails, as it is evident by the end of volume 5. She does care about Yang (although she has a very strange way of showing it) and her tribe most of all. She's also smart enough to see Ozpin's shortcomings.

- I liked how they explored Yang's trauma from loosing her arm and how she copes with the loss. "A part of me is lost" is such a powerful statement and it points to how everything has changed, but Yang accepts it.

-At the same time, that girl has no chill with that prosthetic arm. She straight up dismantles it off her shoulder just to win the wrestling against Nora (and later on to elude Mercury. I bet that if anyone asked her to give them a hand, she would just toss it on their feet then laugh her ass out. She's so silly, I love her.

-With that said, I wish they could have explored a little bit more of Jaune's trauma, but still I think we see well enough how Pyrrha's death has affected him. But why the FUCK did they have to give him more trauma in order to unlock his semblance? Another of his friends almost dies before his eyes, give that boy a break, good Lord.

- Ren and Nora 👀. I love me some good childhood bestdriends to potential lovers. Their background is so tragic but there's something about then growing up together that makes me feel things. I love their dynamic and I think it's pretty hilarious (collected, quiet guy and loud, silly, powerful girl). It was nice how they gained some catharsis when they finally killed that monster. And the symbolism when they hid under similar building where Nora tried to calm Ren down? Literal tears.

-"I was struck by a lighting and I lived. What a Wednesday" GIRL WHAT, LMAO

- I really enjoyed Blake's and Sun's dynamic, whether someone sees them romantically or platonically (for me personally it's the latter, but that's besides the point). Sun has always been a great friend, and although he can be really annoying sometimes, he is there for Blake and he's able to make her see things clearly and persuade her that isolating herself isn't a good thing. I feel like without him around, things for the Belladonnas would have been very different. He's a bit of a himbo, but I love him.

-The angsty Bees got me really well this season. Yang's anger is definitely justifiable and she has every right to be upset.

-"What if I wanted her to be here for me?" BITCH-

-Weiss pulling the "what's that supposed to mean?" every time the Bees are being angsty will forever be funny to me. The OG Beekeeper.

-That said, I think that she explains Blake's point of view really well and I liked how she reached out to Yang although "they aren't that close" (her words, not mine) and seeks to comfort her.

-Did I say that I hate Weiss's family? (Except maybe Winter, but the rest can go burn in hell). I'm GLAD Weiss realizes that ream RWBY is her true family. You love to see a good found family trope.

-Genuinely CANNOT stand the Bees this season /j. Blake seeing her team again and the only person she calls out for is Yang? And Yang's puppy eyes when she sees Blake again? WHY ARE YOU GAY?

-One of the funniest lines was when Crow was like "How can six children make so many noise while having dinner?", like BUDDY, you just answered your question. Tired uncle Crow for the win.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Modern Au kid fic! Platonic Aiden and Lambert (Aiden and Lambert are both 14. Geralt and Eskel are early twenties).

CW for eye trauma and injury description.

"C'mon, everyone knows you're like a god damned guard dog when it comes to your boys." Guxart pleaded.

"And you're hoping I'll extend that to your boy?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Vesemir ran his free hand over his face as he listened to the man on the other end of the line. He knew what he was getting into when he became a foster parent almost twenty years ago. However, he hadn't had any requests like this since taking Lambert in a decade ago and Guxart's kids were a whole different matter. It wasn't his fault the Dyn Marv Group Home had essentially been a sinking ship when he took it over. He was doing his best to turn things around but it was a slow process and there was no denying a good portion of the kids needed support which not many people were equipped to provide as a result of his predecessors management style, whilst a good number of the remaining kids had priors.

"Look, real talk." Guxart suddenly sounded exhausted, "He's my responsibility and for obvious reasons he can't stay here. Right now he's in a bad way, physically and mentally. I need to put him with someone I can trust won't take advantage of that. I need to know he's in safe hands. Please, Ves."

Vesemir sighed. He really hoped he wasn't going to regret this, "When can we expect him?"

"Any idea what this is about?" Eskel asked as he slouched on the old sagging couch.

Geralt shrugged and gave a grunt as he replied to a text (probably Yen), "Group text. I got the same information you did."

"Ass." Eskel gave his brother a playful swat.

"Alright you two." Vesemir emerged from the kitchen carrying three sodas, "I'll fill Lambert in when he gets back from school, but there's some details I'd rather he not know right away."

"Sounds serious." Eskel said, both he and Geralt leaning forwards in their seats to show they were listening.

Vesemir nodded, "Guxart called me. We've got an emergency placement arriving in a couple of hours straight from hospital, lad around Lambert's age."

His adopted sons wrinkled their noses, Vesemir cut them off before they could say anything, "I know you have past issues with the Dyn Marv kids. But Guxart assured me the worst Aiden's ever been slapped with is weekend detention."

Eskel perked up, "Aiden? Lambert's Aiden? Fuck, I gave him so much shit about him being imaginary."

Vesemir shrugged, "It's possible. It's not an uncommon name though."

"So why was he in hospital and why is he coming here?" Geralt asked

"He got attacked by a group of older kids. Naturally, for his own safety he can't go back to the group home while the investigation is ongoing and Guxart didn't want to ship him across State with fresh trauma."

"For how long?"

"Depends how long the authorities take. All I know is that the ringleaders are going to be up on assault charges. Possibly even attempted murder."

"Attempted - what the fuck did they do to him?"

"I didn't want to ask over the phone, his social worker will fill us in on everything when he arrives. That being said, you two know the drill for new arrivals. Geralt, you go do a junk food run and grab some essentials while you're at it, I've got no idea what he's going to be bringing with him so just the basics for now. Eskel, give me a hand getting the spare room ready."

Lambert kicked an empty can into the gutter, scowling down at his shoes. Another day of bullshit taunts and teasing and still no word from Aiden after almost a month. He wasn't dumb, he knew Aiden would have a reason and he knew what the deal was for care kids. He'd probably been moved to a different home or something with no warning and no choice, it happened. Still, Lambert thought his friend would have at least replied one of his emails or something to let him know (Aiden didn't have a phone. He said it was more hassle than it was worth trying to prevent it from getting stolen), not just act like he didn't exist anymore. Long distance friends were a thing, right? Lambert kicked another can. Fuck it, he was done. If Aiden wanted to ghost him then two could play at that game. Fuck friends and fuck him.

"Home." He called out, nudging the door closed with his foot.

"Stop kicking the door and get in here." Vesemir called from the living room, "I need to talk to you about something."

"Fucks sake, I haven't even done anything." Lambert groaned "I've literally just walked through the door."

"I know you haven't. Stop bitching and sit down."

Lambert slumped into the room, taking in the spread of pizza, burgers, hotdogs and cake on the coffee table. That could only mean one thing, "Who's the new guy?"

"That's what I want to talk to you about, but I need you to promise you'll keep a cool head first. Ok."

Lambert shrugged.

"He got here about half an hour ago straight from the hospital. He's pretty beat up."

"Sucks for him. He got a name?"

"Aiden. About your age."

Lambert shot to his feet, "About this tall, dark hair?"

"Yes. But before you - Lambert !"

Lambert didn't hear as he charged up the stairs and down the hallway to the usually empty spare bedroom and immediately started pounding on the door, "Aiden?! "

The door cracked open and Lambert couldn't hide a wince. Vesemir wasn't kidding when he'd said Aiden was pretty beat up. The skin of his arms which wasn't covered by his t-shirt and bandages was covered in bruises. He had the fading evidence of a black eye whilst the other was covered by a patch of surgical gauze, a fresh, bright red scar poking out of the top and disappearing into his hairline. He smiled at Lambert awkwardly, "Hi."

Lambert threw his arms around him in a hug before remembering he was supposed to be mad and turning it into a light shove, "You dick! Why didn't you tell me you were in hospital?"

"I would have if I could but I was in an induced coma for two weeks and it's not like the hospital had a computer lab."

"Wait, you were in a coma."

"To give the internal shit a chance to heal. I'm all good now though. Well-" he pointed to his gauze covered eye, "Mostly."

"What happened anyway?" Lambert asked, moving into the room to sit on the bed.

"Jad and his gang jumped me. This happened when Vi decided to get a flick knife involved." Aiden moved to sit next to him, eyes on the floor and fists clenched. "They couldn't save my eye."

Lambert had never heard his friend sound so small, "Shit, Aiden."

They sat in awkward silence, Lambert not really knowing what to say after that. Luckily they were both saved by a shout of, "Boys, everything ok? If you want food I'd get down here before Geralt eats it all!"

Lambert grinned at his friend, "Hot dog eating contest?"

"You're on!"

[radiosummons]

I don't think Obi-Wan would ever have become a Sith. Literally, one of the biggest points about him as a character is that despite all the bullshit and absolute insanity he goes through, he never gives in to the Dark Side.

BUT--

A part of me can't help but wonder what would have happened if Obi-Wan--for whatever absolutely character breaking reason--took Dooku up on his offer and joined the Sith/Separatist, how differently things would have gone down in the Clone Wars.

Because from where I'm standing, we all already know that Obi-Wan's biggest things is never half-assing literally anything he does. He always puts himself into any task he's given. He's just incapable of not seeing things to their absolute finish and then some.

I've read a few Sith!Obi-Wan AU fics and fan comics with this exact premise and I do find it fascinating how people have gone about exploring this sort of concept. There are, of course, quite a number of powerhouse Sith!Obi-Wan AUs where he just straight decimates the GAR and the Republic (usually with the intent of killing Darth Sidious in the end). But I'm also fascinated by the handful of stories I've seen where Obi-Wan doesn't necessarily become an actual Sith, but joins Dooku (whether as a voluntary double agent or due to time-travel shenanigans) in order to 1) Find out who the true Sith Lord is and take them down and/or 2) To attempt stymieing the overall devastation the war has on the entire galaxy.

So as OOC as Sith!Obi-Wan feels to me, I can't help but share the fascination that others do with the endless "What ifs?" scenarios that can spring to mind with an AU like this.

Especially, when you start thinking about the potential ways Darth Sidious would react to having a hypercompetent Force User and experienced military general "on his side."

Yeah, Sheev was hyperfocused on Anakin for reasons. But I can't help but sorta vibe with some of Sith!Obi-Wan AUs I've seen where Mister Sidious either 1) Realizes what an actual threat Obi-Wan is to his ultimate goal of becoming Emperor of the entire galaxy, and tries to get Dooku to get rid of him as result (similar to what he ordered Dooku to do with Asajj) or 2) Realizes that while Anakin is an absolute powerhouse in the force, Obi-Wan is sort of next level due to not having the copious, never ending layers of unstable emotional drama that Anakin is.

(Of course, being emotionally unstable is sort of the prime requirement for any powerful Dark Sider, but I raise you this--the amount of traumatic bullshit Obi-Wan has gone through is just about as insane, if not a little more, than Anakin. It would just take someone immorally depraved enough, like Mister Sidious, to really torture and drag all that trauma out of Obi-Wan to the point that he'd use said trauma to fuel his Sith abilities. Again, I don't think Obi-Wan would ever give in to the Dark Side even if Sheev was his main tormentor, but we're playing around in the Sith!Obi-Wan AU right now. After all, "The Dark Side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural").

I do feel obligated to sort of mention that sheer amount of angst that naturally comes with this sort of AU, but I don't feel the actual need to go super in depth with it. Just because, well, Obi-Wan in his natural canon state is already a bottomless well of angst and sadness pfffttt

Making him a Sith doesn't really change much in that regard for me, other than for other artists and fic writers to explore the darker elements of SW. Mainly, the horrific and outright torture that comes with being trained as a Sith and, you know, the atrocities of a galaxy wide war (just typically in more graphic detail and from a far more bleak perspective).

Tldr: I don't have an issue with Sith!Obi-Wan despite how horribly OOC it feels to me. I am absolutely and utterly impressed with the writers and artists who have fleshed out this AU in the detail and depths that they have. Y'all are so much stronger than me and I am grateful to everyone who was able to answer some of the questions bouncing around in my head through their art.

*fic recs underneath*

Yeah, I went on a Sith!Obi-Wan/Separatist AU spree a while back just out of curiousity and these are what I personally consider to be some of best (or at the very least, the ones I enjoyed most). Keep in mind, these fics range everywhere from Gen to Explicit/Mature and some do pertain to particular ships. That being said, I find the way these authors go about tackling Dark Sider/Sith/Separatist Obi-Wan to be pretty compelling. So approach these fics with all of that in mind, but do give extra kudos and comments to these writers. They did all the heavy lifting here, and they deserve all the attention and praise they're owed. So in no particular order, here are the fics I'd recommend for this particular AU:

Rank, Designation, Unit Name by soft_but_gremlin

You Shall Become (Me) by jedipati

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ambassador of Mandalore series by alexjana91

I Got My Head Checked by frostbitebakery

What came after by galateaGalvanized

Name of the Game by esama

Certain Point by esama

Cuy'kaysh Dar by mneiai

Feel free to add your own personal recommendations in the tags, if you'd like. I know there's so much more of this AU out there, but I am in no way an expert. So I leave the additional fic recs in your hands.