#this should make at least 85% sense

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

rewatching thinking out loud & i'd honestly forgotten how moving reece's performance was in it...

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

hey so it's exactly 10 days after what i added to @cherrychapsticksteve's post, and it hasn't left my brain SO! Murphy, this is for you. i hope enjoy this full version!!!

pairing: steddie | word count: 7,536 | rated: T

-🎸-

Eddie's chest heaves as he sprints farther into the woods.

It’s not the first (and certainly won’t be the last) time he runs from Hawkins’ finest. This time, Hopper and Callahan had busted him after he ran a stop sign (it wasn’t his fault, okay? He had to change the tape and didn’t see the sign or the patrol car stopped at the damn cross street).

The ‘failure to obey traffic signs’ was the least of his problems though, not after his damn lunchbox dropped out of the van when they asked demanded he “Take a step out here, Munson.”, and the last crumbs of the stock he’d gotten from Rick the week before last spilling out at Hopper’s feet.

They get him in cuffs, of course, but the second they turn their backs on him, he fucking books it.

Hands cuffed behind him, wallet chain jangling around his hip in time with the zipper of his jacket hitting the lowest button of his vest, both officers are wheezing way too soon after he starts playing getaway. He twists and spins out of the way of their grasps, but Callahan gets a second wind and nearly catches him, so he bolts; Tears off past his van and into the woods.

He's got some sense of where he's going, they busted him on Cornwallis and it should be a clear cut through the forest past Loch Nora and to the park, but it's even darker as he gets under the treeline. The fading twilight blocked out by the canopy above him.

Still, he took off into the woods on the west side of the street so as long as he keeps going straight, he'll be fine. 

Joke's on him though, nothing about him has been straight since before he came to live with Wayne (since he was born if what his science teacher Mr. Clarke once told him is to be believed), so it's no fuckin' wonder that he's gotten off course.

He dismisses it at first, the gradual incline he's following at more of a jog than a sprint now, but when he hears sirens go off way too close and he finds himself crashing into a meticulously trimmed backyard, it makes sense.

What doesn't make sense is why of all the gallivanting through the woods he'd just done, over and under fallen logs, rocks, through bushes and thickets, that his feet betray him on the half inch concrete lip of patio he hadn't yet slowed himself enough to avoid altogether.

The toe of his sneaker clips the very corner, his feet try to right themselves, but he's already hurtling toward this person's inground pool. 

In the split second he's falling, Eddie's brain does three things almost simultaneously: 1) realizes that whoever's house this is, there's only one light on. an upstairs window that must be a bedroom. Good. Maybe then he can pick himself up after this what-would-have-been super embarrassing fall and get the fuck back out of their yard without them noticing.

2) It has enough sense to turn his body to the left to take the fall onto the concrete on his shoulder instead of his face, though it means he'll definitely be rolling into the pool now. Damn. 

And 3) a simple thought of 'Aw, fuck.'

What his brain didn't account for was the edge of the pool. And that it should have considered its boney housing's downward momentum in the fall.

His temple collides with the edge where plastic meets stone, and Eddie Munson, freshly concussed and all but dead to the world, falls into the water.

-🍦-

The night Steve Harrington officially meets Eddie Munson is like every other.

At home, alone, waiting for it to be a reasonable time to go to bed. 

He’s leaning his desk chair back on two legs, his feet propped up on his mattress, flipping through the new June '85 edition of Vogue that came in the mail that day addressed to Linda Harrington.

Halfway through reading about Eric Stoltz in that new movie Mask (and seriously debating somehow guilting his parents into sending him one of these watches for a late graduation gift because shit that's a nice watch), he hears a splash from outside his window.

The sound makes him jump from how unexpected it is, and he would've for sure tumbled ass backwards off his chair if the wall hadn't been behind him.

He jumps up and yanks open his blinds to look out at the pool below.

There are fresh ripples weaving across the normally still top, and a shadow of something bubbling up from the bottom.

His guts twist up immediately; of course, it could be just some stupid deer, but it could also be any number of insane hell creatures, one of which had once used his pool as it's front door before.

"Shitshitshitshit," Steve snatches up his bat from under the bed and launches himself out his room and down the stairs in record time.

By the time he gets to the edge of the pool, the ripples have dispersed significantly, and the..whatever it is.. at the bottom is releasing bubbles slower than ever.

It takes about a second more for him to parse out the very obviously human shape crumpled under the water and--is that blood?

Steve dives into the water directly across from the bright red smear on the plastic lining.

His eyes burn with the chemicals, all he makes out of the person is a pale face and dark hair.

He hooks an arm under theirs and across their chest, and pushes up from the bottom.

Steve finds a foothold in the shallows and powers over to the stairs as fast as he can, pulling the limp man up onto the concrete.

He gets to work on them immediately, checking for a pulse, checking for breath..nothing.

"Fuck Fuck Fuck!" Steve starts compressions on his chest, counting in his head before sucking in a deep breath, pinching the guy’s nose shut, and sealing his mouth onto the blue lips below him.

Nothing.

"C'mon Munson," Steve starts counting compressions again. "Don't do this to me, man." It surprises him that this is when his brain pairs the pale features and dark denim to Hawkins' Super-Senior, but it's him alright. The vest is a giveaway, though he definitely looks like a completely different person without his bangs hanging over his forehead, or that dumbass grin he has when he's going on some tirade at lunch.

Steve closes his lips over Eddie's once again and this time, it works.

Eddie pitches forward, spewing chunky water all over the ground in front of him.

Steve supports his back as he does, "Shit, man, let it out, let it out." He looks down then, finally realizing Eddie's arms have been completely incapacitated by a pair of cuffs this whole time. 

His breaths are ragged, gagging while he takes in shaky breaths.

He continues to pat Eddie's back, smacking his palm over some demon-looking thing on the back panel of his vest.

"Breathe, Eddie, you got it." The older boy's dazed gaze turns to him then, "You back with me?"

"Harrington?" it comes out a wheeze.

“Hey Munson, you okay?”

Eddie looks around at Steve’s yard, to the pool, “Yeah I—Yeah..” he looks back at Steve, “What happened?”

“You fell into my pool, dude.” he chuckles, “I pulled you out and you weren’t breathing.”

“…huh.”

That pulls another snort out of him. “Yeah, ‘Huh.’.”

Eddie looks off into the woods, then back to his face. “And what happened before that?”

Steve pulls lightly on the cuffs. “I was hoping you could tell me that.”

“I don’t–I don’t know what..” he glances around, panicked, “I don’t know why I’m in cuffs, I–”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay man. You’re okay.” Steve rubs gently over the same spot he’d been patting, “Let’s get you inside, alright? Get some food maybe?”

Eddie takes a couple more breaths then nods, “Yeah…yeah okay, Harrington.”

He leads Eddie inside after he’s calmed down a bit more, sitting him down on one of the chairs at the breakfast nook and dashing quickly to the laundry room off the kitchen for a towel.

"Eddie, hey, y'gotta stay awake." he says, wrapping him up and giving him a light shake, "I'm gonna make you something to eat soon, but I wanna get you outta your cuffs first. Can you tell me how to get them off?"

"Yea-yeah," Eddie smacks his lips dryly, thinking hard, "Do you have a bobby pin?"

Steve studies him while he quickly searches his brain for where the last time he might've seen one. He's still dazed, still out of it (which is fair, honestly, he almost died after all), and is starting to shiver despite the towel.

He goes to the sink and pours a glass of water. "I think my mom has some. Let me help you drink some of this, and we’ll get you upstairs, okay?" he says, turning back to Eddie and keeping his voice soft, as if he'd scare him off if he spoke any louder.

Eddie's face scrunches in confusion, so he continues, "I’ll get you out of those cuffs and into the shower so you can warm up."

He watches Eddie’s expression morph as he registers what was said to him. His eyes go hooded, his cheeks tinge pink, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "Y'wanna get me naked, big boy?"

Steve rolls his eyes, his own cheeks prickling with heat. Eddie's hot okay? Objectively. He doesn't have to be into guys to know that. And flirting is flirting.  Sue him. "Shut up man," he laughs.

He holds the glass to Eddie’s lips and lets him drink as much as he wants, then sets the glass down on the table. He pulls gently on Eddie’s bicep, hooking an arm around the other man's waist, under an arm, and when he finally feels like he's got a good enough hold on him, they head to the steps.

They make their way up the stairs slowly, Eddie mumbling to himself the whole way. Steve hears a grumbled "Naked..", something that sounds like "..Gotta be dreamin',", and his own name, drawn out as if in disbelief "Steeeve Harrington...".

Finally, they make it to the master bedroom and Steve deposits Eddie on the edge of the bed. He immediately falls over onto his right side.

"Ow! Shit.. that fuckin' sucks."

"Your shoulder?" Steve asks, grabbing up a pin from his mother's vanity and turning back to the still damp man on the bed.

"Yeah, I–I must've fallen onto it before I went in." Eddie reasons, "Also, my head hurts."

"I bet," Steve nods, climbing up behind Eddie, "Now, you gotta tell me what to do here, man." he turns the cuffs slightly where he can see the little keyhole. "I've never picked the lock on a pair of cuffs."

"Ya don't say..'' he drawls sarcastically, "Just put the pin in my hand and I'll do it.”

Steve watches Eddie's fingers fiddle with the bobby pin; twisting it every which way while he feels out which side is which, which end of it he wants, prying it open with only a couple fingers, twisting into his hair, the pads of them ghosting along his lips, how they might feel opening him u--

Steve jumps up off the bed, causing Eddie to complain about the movement fucking up his concentration or something.

He ignores him, heading into the ensuite to start the shower.

Holy shit.

What in the actual fuck was that? He shakes his head, hard, willing his brain not to think those thoughts again. He is not gay or anything, everyone has thoughts like that sometimes. Tommy said so.

After starting the water and grabbing a new towel from under the counter, Steve takes a breath and steps back out into the bedroom.

He lets the breath out in relief when he sees Eddie's hands separate from the other, one palm pressed to the left side of his face and his other hanging loosely in front of him off the edge of the bed.

His soggy white Reeboks have also joined him on the bed, feet dangerously close to the pillow.

"Up n’ at 'em, Munson, gotta get you cleaned up." Steve calls, relishing briefly in making Eddie jump in surprise. "Can you get up on your own?"

Eddie groans, but slowly lets his feet drop back down to the floor.

Steve is back on Eddie's side of the bed before he's upright, offering a hand.

His open palm is puzzled at for a few long seconds, then Eddie places his hand in Steve's.

"Okay, up we go," he pulls Eddie to his feet, singing his arm around the other man's waist again and pulling Eddie's arm over his shoulders.

"Dizzy." Eddie complains.

"I know, I know," he soothes in return, "It's this way."

They shuffle into the bathroom and Steve lowers Eddie onto the closed lid of the toilet.

"We gotta get you out of your wet clothes, okay Eds?" The nickname slips through his teeth, but Eddie doesn't seem to mind it, nodding slowly.

Steve kneels in front of him, "Shoes first. Can you get your jacket and vest off for me?"

“Pushy, pushy,” Eddie teases, starting to pull his jacket off, “You really wanna get me naked, don’t you.” 

“Oh yeah. I am just itching for ‘pale, scrawny asshole’.” Steve deadpans in return, unlacing Eddie’s sopping sneakers and placing them in front of the counter.

“Oh now you wanna see my asshole? Buy a guy dinner first, Stevie.”

Steve tries to ignore the soupy feeling in his stomach at the nickname. It’s not even a new one, Tommy’s called him that before too and it never made his guts all squirmy like this.

It’s gotta just be because he and Eddie aren’t friends like he and Tommy had been.

That’s all.

But that’s not all, is it? His brain betrays him again, taking only half a second to imagine going on a date with Eddie, taking him to dinner, a movie, whatever. Taking him home, giving him a kiss goodnight.

The scenario is imagined, but the swirling feeling in his stomach is all too real.

He’s felt this before, the nerves and excitement of taking out a girl he really likes, getting to talk to her, get to know her, the possibility of getting to kiss her (and maybe more) at the end of the night.

But now it’s Eddie Fucking Munson that his gut’s all soupy for. Does he like Eddie? Does he want to Date him?

Steve feels his face heat up, his knees feel wobbly despite being on stable ground, his stomach erupts in butterflies—aw fuck. He likes Eddie. 

“Be careful with this, Harrington, It’s worth more than you’ll ever know.” Miraculously, Eddie managed to get his jacket off with the vest still wrapped around it. He passes the bundle gingerly over to Steve, like it's breakable.

He looks down at the crumpled clothing in his hands; he can see a couple patches that are hand-sewn into the denim, a broken zipper on one of the sleeves of Eddie’s jacket that has been pinned shut, a single button worn shinier than the rest. He believes him.

“I’ll take care of it, promise.” Steve says, placing the bundle up next to the sink gently. “Now, do you need help with the rest?”

Eddie immediately looks like he’s going to say no, but he seems to think better of it. “Uhm, can you help with these?”, he pats his legs, “I’d do it myself, but they’re gonna be a bitch to get off since they’re all wet and I’m still dizzy and don’t really want to bend over to pull off the bottoms but–y’know what just forget it, I’ll—”

Steve interrupts his rambling, “Eddie, it’s fine! I offered, didn't I? Help me out?” he gestures to Eddie’s zipper with his chin and starts to pull at the legs of Eddie’s skinny jeans. “I don’t get it man, why squeeze into these–”

The jingle of Eddie’s belt buckle pulls his focus, his eyes darting up to catch a flash of the buckle being undone. He averts his eyes, but a split second later, his brain registers what he’d seen and his gaze snaps back to it.

“Handcuff buckle? Really?”

“Don’t diss the buckle, Stevie,” Eddie chides, working the buckle loose. It continues to jingle as he works at it.

“How good of a buckle can it be if you can’t even get it undone?” Steve says, getting the second leg of Eddie’s jeans pulled down under his heel.

“It keeps me virtuous.” Eddie grits out, then huffs out a “Finally..” as the mini handcuffs fall open.

It was a bad moment to be done with what he was doing. Because Steve looks up just as Eddie unbuttons his fly and pulls the zipper down.

Steve shoots up off the floor, “Need some help standing up?” He asks, trying to cover for his minor freak-out. Eddie didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie takes his hand and pulls himself up, “Don’t let me fall okay? I’m still feelin’ kinda…loopy.”

“Sure, man.”

So Steve stands there, gaze averted politely, as Eddie shimmies his jeans off and pulls his shirt off over his head.

He leaves him to it after that, pointing out the shampoo and soap, where he’d hung the new towel for him, and escapes to go find Eddie some new clothes.

He fishes a pair of black sweats out from one of his drawers, a pair that had been too small for him since sophomore year, and a plain black undershirt. He grabs up his personal favorite hoodie too, a Hawkins High Swim one, and a pair of thick fuzzy Christmas socks Mrs. Henderson had given him this past year.

After agonizing over whether or not to grab a pair of boxers too (he does, a new pair from the back of his top drawer), Steve wanders back into the master bathroom and deposits the pile on Eddie’s vacated seat.

The frosted glass door and added steam cloud Eddie’s form, but Steve can see the vague outline of him, standing just at the edge of where the water must be falling.

“I’m gonna start a quick load of laundry with your things, okay? I left you some stuff on the toilet.”

“‘Kay.” Eddie says softly.

It’s after he’s gathered up Eddie’s chlorine scented clothes that he notices, thinking belatedly to grab the discarded towel off the bed on his way back downstairs, but when he turns to grab it, he’s stopped short by a darkening stain puddled up on one end.

Right where Eddie’s head had been.

It all clicks. The smear of blood on the edge of the pool, Eddie’s complaints of his head hurting, of feeling dizzy and lightheaded.. And now Steve’s left him standing on his own in a hot-ass shower?!

He’s not sure how he heard it, but there’s a soft “Steve?” called out from the bathroom before a loud thump echoes out into the bedroom. 

-🎸-

At first, the shower felt fan-fucking-tastic, but not long after stepping under the hot, wonderfully pressured stream, he’d started feeling (even) more light headed.

He takes a deep breath, and leans on one hand at the back of the shower out of the spray while his head clears enough.

Operating in much the same way through the rest of the shower, he scrubs himself down, washing the chlorine from his skin and hair, wincing slightly when he stretches his shoulder the wrong way and when he scrubs over his right temple. There’s a knot there. Great.

He continues through the motions, taking as deep of breaths as he can, but rinsing the shampoo out of his hair is what does it. His arm stretched up, the more concentrated steam, the tilting back of his head…he bobbles forward out of the stream, hand on the wall again.

Where the hell is Steve? He’s gotta get out of here, gotta turn off the shower..somehow? Eddie’s vision blurs. Fuck.

“I’m gonna start a quick load of laundry with your things, okay? I left you some stuff on the toilet.” Steve says, back in the room as if summoned by Eddie’s desperate thoughts.

‘C’mon coward, ask him for help! He’s right outside the door!’

“‘Kay.”

‘No! Damnit!’ He’ll be fine, he just needs to breathe again, needs to sit down..

“Steve?”

Then he’s out (again).

-

When he comes to (again), he’s back on the bed, under the covers, and still kinda damp. And dressed.

“What the fuck?”

The bedroom door opens then, and he tries to sit up. Shit, why is he so sore?

He blinks away the fuzziness in his eyes only to see Steve goddamn Harrington hovering over him.

Steve pushes him back down onto the pillows. “Oh no nono you don’t. You stay right there.” he chastises.

“What the fuck, what happe—” The memories of the last couple hours roll over him all at once, along with heavy mortification that presses him further into the pillows. He covers his face with his hands, “Jesus H. Christ..did I pass out in the shower?”

“I’m sorry Eddie,” 

“Sorry for what? That I’m a klutz?” he mumbles out from under his palms. “Don’t think that’s your fault, Harrington.”

“You’re not a klutz, dumbass, but you do probably have a concussion…” Steve snarks back, and Eddie feels the mattress sink beside him, “Though I don’t know, maybe you always pass out in the shower?” 

Eddie can’t help but laugh. He scrubs his face a couple more times, then drops his hands “Only in the showers of my own personal saviors.”

He swears Steve’s face tinges pink at that, “Well aren’t I a lucky guy.”

“Well, seeing as how I’m dressed, and last time I remember, I wasn’t..” Steve’s face is blazing red now. “I think you must be, if you got a look at the goods.”

He waggles his eyebrows teasingly when Steve glances up at him, “Shut up man, I didn’t look at your junk any more than I had to.”

Eddie sputters at that, “How much looking is in your definition of ‘had to’?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “You passed out in my shower man, I had to get you out didn’t I? And I’m not about to leave you cold and wet so..I wrapped you up in a towel and got you up here.” he gestures to the bed, “Got you dressed and under the covers so you could sleep somewhat comfy while I made you something to eat.”

Eddie continues to eye him suspiciously, “So you got into my pants and then got them on me? That seems backwards…and sounds kinda fishy, Steven.”

“Oh my god..” Steve throws his head back in exasperation and scrubs his own face with his hands. “I got your pants on while you were still wrapped up in the towel, asshole, now do you want something to eat or not?”

“Wow…the kiss of life, a personal scrubdown (“I didn’t scrub you down!”), and now I get breakfast in bed? If I’m dreamin’, don’t wake me up.”

“Your dreams include getting concussed and passing out?”

Eddie shrugs, “To be fair, there’s usually less clothes and more making out, but I’m holding out hope.” He waggles his eyebrows again and Steve’s face flushes red, scoffing lightly 

“Don’t hold your breath.”

He feigns being shot in the chest, hamming it up and falling limp further into the pillows, “You wound me Steven, am I to be laid up for the rest of my days? Does his royal highness not believe in true love’s kiss?”

“I’ve already kissed you once, dumbass, Is that not enough for you?”

“It musn’t be, for my head and heart still ache!” he continues to bemoan, flailing a hand to his forehead. He’s honestly not quite sure why he’s still keeping up with the bit, painfully straight jocks like Steve don’t normally take well to his dramatics, and he’s not keen on getting punched right now.

But Steve doesn’t punch him. He laughs. 

He laughs and says “How ‘bout you eat something first, and if your head and heart still ache after that, I’ll give you a smooch.” Steve says, standing from the edge of the bed.

Eddie gawks at him, but allows himself to be helped up after his stomach growls loudly not a second later.

Steve walks down the stairs in front of him half-sideways in case he decides to pass out again, then helps him up onto a stool at the Harrington’s long kitchen island.

“I made eggs and toast, but I can get you something else if you like?”

Eddie’s stomach rolls at the thought of eggs, “Just toast, thanks.”

Steve nods, and passes over a plate with plain buttered toast stacked at least a half a loaf tall and a new glass of water. He takes a slice gratefully and munches on it slowly.

Suddenly, something clicks. “Wait, rewind, concussed? You think I might have a concussion?”

“You hit your head didn’t you?” he asks, rounding the counter with a plate of his own and perching on the stool next to him.

“Well yeah, but concussion?”

Steve shrugs, “I mean, I’m not 100 percent sure, but you definitely hit it pretty hard,” he gently pushes the hairs of Eddie’s right temple up and back, touching the fingers of his other hand to the knot he’d felt in the shower earlier.

“Sorry,” he says when Eddie winces, “There was a cut there too, but it wasn’t that deep so I cleaned it up and used a couple butterfly strips on it. Definitely looked worse than it was, but you said you didn’t remember what happened, that your head hurts, you’re dizzy, and I’m guessing the thought of eggs made you nauseous didn’t they?”

Eddie blinks at him once, twice, “I think I have a concussion.”

Steve barks out a laugh, tossing his head back with it. He looks back down at Eddie, still grinning, and time seems to freeze for a long moment.

Steve Harrington’s always been attractive, okay? And Eddie is only a man. The soft swoop of Steve’s hair, messy and flatter than he’s ever seen it in any normal circumstance, but it still looks good, the moles he can see scattered across his neck and arms and legs that Eddie’s always seen a big ol’ ‘KISS HERE’ over each, the relatively new softer smile he’d seen after Hargrove showed up and King Steve was tossed from his throne..

Eddie’s been so gone on Steve for so long already, and now he’s literally saved his life.

He never thought he’d ever want to be the damsel in distress, but now is, and he’s here, and Steve Harrington is his knight in shining armor.

It’s not just the possible concussion making his head swirl.

“Thanks, Steve.” he says, coming back to the present again–was he always this close? Do not look at his lips, Munson, stay focused. “Never thought this’d be how I’d ever be in your house though.”

Steve’s eyes flash to somewhere below his nose (‘Wait.. did he just–’), then he takes his hand away, dropping it back to his lap from where it was all but wrapped around the back of his skull. He didn’t even register that Steve was still holding him (‘Fuck!’).

“How d’ya think you’d ever be here then?” he asks, taking a large bite of runny egg.

“Oh y’know me, peddler of wares for any manner of frivolities my liege may hold.” He attempts to give Steve a bow, but gets dizzy almost as soon as his head tips forward.

Steve’s hands reach out to steady him, but drop when Eddie sits back up. “Yeah I didn’t get any of that.”

“Party favors, Steve-o, pills, ganja..all that fun stuff.” Eddie continues on at Steve’s understanding expression, “That’s what got me cuffed earlier.”

“Ah, so you do remember.”

“For the most part. They wouldn’t’ve even pulled me over if my tape hadn’t ended. I was trying to swap it out and ran a stop sign.”

Steve snorts, “What, did you try to bribe them with drugs?”

“I wish; that'd’ve been a much better story,” Eddie laughs, taking another bite of toast, “My stash fell out at Hopper’s feet when I got outta the van.”

Steve winces, “Bad break, dude. So what, you just decided to run? Why not before they cuffed you?”

“I dunno, man, I just bolted into the trees. Those old men couldn’t’ve caught me if they tried.”

“So you got pulled over, got cuffed for having drugs in your car, evaded capture by running through the woods in the dark, fell into my pool shoulder first,”

“Well I rolled into it, actually. I tripped on your patio, couldn’t catch myself on my hands, obviously, so I fell onto my shoulder first and kinda skidded slash rolled into the pool. Must’ve hit my head then too.”

Steve winces again, “That’s why the “Sorry” earlier.. I saw that blood on the lining and I didn’t even check where you could be bleeding.” He shakes his head in disappointment, “I shouldn’t’ve put you into the shower like that, it’s not good for you. And I know my way around a head injury.” Steve mutters.

“Sportsball will do that to you.” Eddie nods, grabbing a second slice of toast.

“It wasn’t basket–” he sighs, “Nevermind, is there someone you need to call or anything?”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. “Trying to be rid of me already, Harrington?”

Steve waves him off, “Nah. Your clothes are still in the dryer.” he says, standing up and passing around the island to the far counter where a phone book lays open. He picks it up and brings it back to Eddie, “I looked up Munson in case someone would be wondering where you are, but the only Munson here didn’t answer. A Wayne Munson?”

“My uncle,” Eddie explains, “He wouldn’t, not at this time of day. He’s already at the plant for the night.”

“Ah.”

“You can just give me a ride home, we stashed a key on the porch.” he tries to stand, pushing through the dizziness.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying right here, Munson. That’s an order.”

Eddie sinks back into his seat.

“Concussions are tricky, you know; You have to check on the person periodically while they sleep to make sure they’re not getting worse. If there’s not going to be anyone at home with you, you’d better stay here.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.” Eddie gives him a two fingered salute, and relishes in the feeling of making Steve smile again. 

-🍦-

It was easier than he thought it'd be to convince Eddie to get back to bed, this time in the guest room across from Steve’s own bedroom.

He’d thought the surprisingly charming weirdo (he was apparently already smitten with) would fight him on it, but he’d followed him back upstairs without complaint after a third slice of toast, though he had gotten a bit woozy about 2/3rds of the way back up.

“What, no smooch? I have to settle for common drugs?” Eddie grumbles as Steve shakes a couple Tylenol into his palm. Steve just rolls his eyes, ignoring him (and the giant swoop of his stomach), “I’ll be up for a little while longer, I have to get your shit outta the dryer and get ready for work tomorrow, so I’ll wake you up before I go to bed and wake you up again in the middle of the night.”

Eddie takes the offered glass of water from him, gulping down the pain meds, “I’m gonna be super grouchy at you, you know.”

Steve smirks at him, “I know, but it’s gotta be done.” He takes back the glass and sets it on the nightstand. 

Eddie’d nodded through a long cracking yawn, smiled, then murmured a light “G’night Stevie.” that made Steve’s heart squeeze.

“‘Night Eds, I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Steve, however, did not get to sleep as easily, lying awake in his room after waking Eddie the first time. 

He set his watch to wake him in three hours to check on Eddie again, and he’d already wasted a good half of it staring at his ceiling and thinking in circles about everything that had happened, everything he’d felt and thought about the town freak sleeping across the hall.

He’d started with gathering all of it up and trying to cram it away to some corner of his head and leave it there, lock it away from even himself, but to no avail. The…he supposed you could call them feelings...for Eddie had grown much too big already for any one of the lock boxes in the back of his brain.

Then he’d tried to rationalize them again like he had at first. Tommy had told him, very confidently, that everyone has gay thoughts sometimes, it’s normal to realize when a guy is just objectively attractive. To realize you’d totally hit that if you had the chance. 

Harrison Ford was the first person Steve’d brought up during that conversation, and Tommy agreed. So that was it, Eddie Munson was just the same as Harrison Ford. He’d definitely sleep with Eddie if there was ever a chance.

And was there? There’d always been rumors about Munson, at least since Steve’d started at Hawkins High, maybe even before, but were they true? How would he even ask that? “Hey Eddie, heard you might be..y’know..into guys and I think I might be too. Do you maybe wanna do something about that? Together?”

Yeah. Not likely.

And Eddie hasn’t looked at him any different than he ever had before, at least not in the handful of times he’s caught the older teen looking at him across the cafeteria or from down the hall.

Should he just..start flirting and hope for the best? What if he doesn’t like it and decks him for it?

Steve scrubs his face again, this is so much easier with girls.

…And that’s another thing, what about girls? He still likes girls. A lot, actually. So is he even allowed to like Eddie? He reasons it’s at least possible to because he does like Eddie. Wants to date him too, but that’s definitely not allowed.

He’s no closer to figuring out what he’s supposed to do when his watch beeps to life again.

Sighing, he throws his covers off, stands up, and sneaks across the hall to Eddie’s room.

“Eddie..hey! Eddie!” Steve whispers, gently shaking him awake. Eddie’s bangs are sticking straight out from his forehead, the rest of his hair fanned out in a mess below his head, his morning breath already starting to form…how can this be so damn attractive?

“Mmm…Hm?” Eddie’s eyes squint against the low light filtering in from the hallway, “Steve?”

“Hey, how are you feeling? Is your head feeling better?”

Eddie sinks back onto his pillow and lets his eyes fall shut again. “Uhm, it hurts, but less than it did earlier.”

“Good, that’s good.” A split moment of bravery comes over him then. “How about your heart?”

“Still aches,” He slurs sleepily in response.

Steve’s bravery and Eddie’s wakefulness fade with each second, so before they’re both gone, Steve leans forward and presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “See you in the morning, Eds.”

-🎸-

When Eddie wakes up the final time the next morning, it’s on his own and from an amazing dream involving an epic battle, injuries, and a healing kiss pressed to his forehead by a soft-haired paladin.

He sits up, already significantly less dizzy than he’d been last night, and chugs down the glass of water Steve must’ve left last time he was up here. 

He gets dressed slowly, grabbing his freshly de-chlorinated Iron Maiden tee and trusty black jeans from the neatly folded pile on the nightstand. 

He’s wondering where his jacket and vest are when the sweet smell of breakfast hits him, “Oh, fuck yeah,” he says aloud to himself like a loser.

Eddie pulls on his socks, mismatched but bundled together anyhow, and steps out into the hall.

Steve’s voice filters up the stairs with a mouthwatering buttermilk smell, “Good morning Mr. Munson, I’m sorry if I woke you.”

What time is it anyway? Eddie winces internally on Steve’s behalf if it’s anytime past 8. 

“My name is Steve Harrington, sir, and I—” Steve sighs, “Yes sir, that Harrington.”

Eddie actually winces this time, halfway down the stairs now.

“No, no no, of course not, no trouble at all Mr. Munson, I’m calling because of Eddie.”

Oof, nope, that’s not gonna help ya, Stevie.

“I didn’t—no, not complaining about—no, he got hurt an–”

Eddie can hear Wayne’s voice through the phone now, even from where he’s stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“I think he might have a concussion and—no, no! I wanted to let you know so you can—”

He decides to save Steve from the Wrath of Wayne and walks around the corner into the kitchen. He holds his hand out for the receiver, and Steve gratefully passes it over, turning back to his waffle maker (a whole-ass waffle maker! Lucky sonofabitch…).

“--And if you don’ tell me righ’ this minute how he got hurt–”

“Calm down, old man, I’m fine. Though I think Steve would’ve denied me waffles if you went on any longer.”

“Theodore Munson, you tell me what’s goin’ on right this second.”

“Whoa! Full name privileges are revoked for you,” He jokes, unable to resist riling up his uncle more. He pulls the cord around the corner and back into the hall, “Wayne, seriously, I’m fine. I just fell into Harrington’s pool a little. No big deal.”

“No big deal huh? Why’n the hell were you concussed in Loch Nora?”

“It’s a long story, but short version is I fell into Harrington’s pool and smacked my head. Steve made sure I was okay, and,” he cringes, “and Hopper might show up on our doorstep in the next couple hours.”

Wayne heaves a long sigh, “Goddammit, boy.”

“It’s all good, I’ll be home soon. I’m gonna pilfer some breakfast and get Steve to drive me home.”

“Wait, wha’happened t’yer van?”

“Okay, bye Wayne! See you soon!”

“Theodore Wayn—”

He breathes a sigh of relief when the phone is back on its cradle.

“Your uncle is scary, man.”

Eddie turns back to Steve’s voice, sitting on the same stool he did last night. Steve passes him a plate with two large golden brown waffles.

“Nah, he’s a big softy. He just worries ‘bout me.” he picks up his fork, digging into the fluffy waffles. They are unfairly good. “Thanks for breakfast, Steve, this is great!”

“You’re welcome man, y’want strawberries?”

They eat quickly, it was later than Eddie thought and Steve has the opening shift at his new-ish job at Starcourt’s ice cream parlor.

“Oh, um.. Ice cream’s good, right?”

Steve grimaces, “I feel like it’ll be very not good after this summer. Plus I have a dumb uniform I have to wear.” he gestures to the backpack he’d grabbed on their way out and tossed in the backseat.

They’re in Steve’s BMW now; his shoes and vest are still kinda damp and he’s gonna have to re-condition his leather jacket after the damn chlorine got to it, but that’s a problem for Future Eddie. “No college for you then? I honestly figured you’d be outta here as soon as you walked across that stage.” 

“I uh, didn’t get in.” Steve says, “Dad decided I should get a job at Scoops to teach me a lesson or something. As if I didn’t feel bad about not living up to his expectations enough already.”

Eddie doesn’t quite know what to say to that, but his silence seems to make Steve nervous. “It’s whatever though, I shouldn’t be dumping this all on you, sorry.”

“Hey man, it’s cool, sounds like King Harrington of Hawkins expected a lot of the Prince.” They’re turning into the Forest Hills trailer park now; Eddie has a fleeting thought about how he’s finally made it to where he’d been heading last night, and something about how a twist of fate (of feet?) diverted him to a whole new course he hadn’t expected, but was glad had happened.

Steve snorts, “Yeah, don’t think he appreciated the Prince parading around pretending to be King prematurely, huh?”

Eddie grins at him as the wheels crunch on the gravel pad outside his home. “A savior and a Prince is better than a King any day.”

He gets a grin in return, then it falls slightly as he glances up at the trailer. “Well, here you are, Munson. It was, uh, weird? But nice to meet you…Officially, anyway” he tacks onto the end, “Just don’t accidentally fall into my pool again.”

“Hmm, I dunno Stevie, it was nice to be pampered.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle up again when he laughs, “How would you rate your visit to Casa Harrington, sir? On a scale of four to five stars?”

“Hmmm.. probably a 4.7 out of five.”

“4.7?! Ouch Eds, that hurts.” Steve clutches a hand to his chest, “After all the waffles and wakeup calls,”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for those wakeup calls.”

“4.7…” he mutters again, shaking his head, “What would’ve given me a full five then?”

“Well you gotta lay off the wakeup calls for starters,” Eddie says, starting to count on his fingers, “More options for toppings at your waffle breakfast bar,”

“You had strawberries and chocolate syrup! What more do you need?!”

Eddie continues on as if he hadn’t heard him. “There was no lifeguard on duty, my towels weren’t warmed up for me, I believe I was promised a True Love’s kiss at some point and never got it, the concierge antagonized my uncle—”

He’s interrupted from his rant by a quick press of something to the corner of his mouth.

He whips his head around and Steve’s face is mere inches from his. There’s a blush high on his cheeks, his eyes are wide (and they’re hazel, how’d he not know that?!), “Did you just—”

“Eddie! Get your ass up here, now.” Wayne calls from the porch, causing them both to jump.

“Better get goin’ Eds.” Steve whispers, swallowing hard.

“Yeah, I–” he glances down at Steve’s lips, he has a few seconds, right? Enough time to—

“Eddie!” Nope.

His eyes stay trained on Steve’s nervous expression while his hand scrambles for the handle. He finally finds it, all but spills out of the car, and closes the door behind him once he’s out fully.

Without any more preamble, Steve backs out of their driveway, and leaves the park.

-🍦-

Steve doesn’t see Eddie for a couple weeks, wasn’t even sure Eddie would want to see him again after that stupid move he pulled, but when he finally does, it’s just before closing on a random Wednesday at Scoops.

“You missed, Harrington!” Eddie calls from the entrance to Scoops. He sounds like he’s out of breath.

“Eddie?”

“You missed!” he walks forward at a normal speed, despite seeming like he’d rushed to get here. He’s also shaking his finger at him, chiding.

“Where’ve you been, man?”

“Had to take care of the whole ‘evading arrest’ thing, but that’s not important. You missed Stevie.”

“Stevie?” he hears Robin mutter in disbelief.

“Missed what? I mean, yeah, I missed you too man, but what—?”

He’s cut off when Eddie finally reaches the counter, grabs his face in both hands, and kisses him square on the mouth.

Robin yelps in surprise, but that is the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. 

Eddie’s lips are chapped, but they slot along Steve’s so easy it makes his head spin.

After forever and no time at all, Eddie pulls back, dropping back to his side of the counter. “There. A real lips to lips kiss. None of that sly cheek shit, Harrington.”

Steve’s still a bit dazed, “Much better than the first one.” He leans closer to Eddie again, lips searching, but he’s held still.

“Whattya mean, ‘the first one’?”

It clears his head a bit, “Uh, the one where I saved your life? Obviously.”

“That doesn’t count!” Eddie’s hands leave his face, and he misses them already.

“It was lips to lips! Isn’t that what you just said?”

“It was CPR, Steven!”

“I can count it as our first kiss if I want to, Edward.” Steve crosses his arms across his chest.

“My name’s not Edwa—”

The long squeal of marker-on-whiteboard cuts him off, and he immediately flushes red.

Oh yeah, Robin…aw fuck.

He turns slowly to the window behind the counter; a single tally mark has been drawn into the left side of Robin’s YOU RULE / YOU SUCK board.

She caps the marker, sets it down, smirks, and says “Congratulations, Dingus.”

this is also on AO3!

tagging a few of the people in the tags of the original who seemed interested in more! hope that's okay!!!

@inthewychelm @tboyeddie @brbsoulnomming @henderdads @ajs624 @sleepy-steve @eddiesdoeeyes @steddie-island @themeanderingty @hammity-hammer @spicysix @steddieasitgoes @willowworkswithwords @farahsamboolents @shares-a-vest @klausinamarink @fortheloveofgodletmein @sharpbutsoft @perseus-notjackson @zombiethingy @tchackdaw @eddiethehunted @smoothiecas @donttellunclesam @allyricas @living-force @xandriumbat @himbosandhardwear @everything-is-the-answer @sidebarre @m-owo-n @warmsole @occasionaloverboy @whoopssteddiefeels @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @extra-transitional @cecil5683 @makeadealwithdean @huymadovan

[tgd-sideblog]

this started as a reblog but actually i'm not gonna put this is on someone else's post bc i don't say this to pick an argument with any specific poster. But I'm seeing people tossing around slightly condescending posts about how people who were unsatisfied with the depiction of the team's grief in the latest ep just don't understand that grief is more complex than the world stopping so people can endlessly sob etc so I wanted to elaborate why imo the show didn't adequately deliver on the grief front.

The issue I have with the depiction of grief isn't that I don't know grief can be hard to talk about or that Eddie couldn't realistically leave Chris for an indefinite period of time until a date was set for the funeral or I'm too stupid to get the subtext of Buck isn't outwardly breaking down because he's trying to keep it together to support the team.

The issue is there's only two more episodes left in the season and instead of the impact on the 118 they spent half of the episode immediately after Bobby's death on a seeming irrelevant dead baby plotline (which was either a hint at Bobby still to be revealed as not in that coffin [in which case I think they've messed up the pacing of that storyline and if they do pull a resurrection twist they'll still have wasted the oppotunity of exploring reactions to Bobby's apparent death], a dig at the audience, or to show Athena that denial isn't a healthy way of coping with grief which doesn't make sense as a narrative choice because there was no indication she was in denial for there to be value added by a subplot about confronting that), so, having made that questionable choice, they've now only got two episodes left to cram in:

Chimney's survivors guilt

Presumably more Athena stuff (like deciding if she wants to continue with the house)

The new captain of the 118 (needs at least some groundwork even though they could easily hold off in confirming a permanent captain until next season)

Eddie chosing to return to LA and somehow getting his job back even though there's now no Bobby to help (or sending him back to Texas indefinitely to resolve in S9 which opens up a whole other can of worms)

the TWO different emergency plotlines which have been teased at least one which will likely be a big finale emergency

And somehow fit in grief narratives for Hen and Eddie and Buck and Chim who has grieving to do for Bobby seperate from his survivors guilt. they are all main characters who had close relationships with Bobby, they should each be getting personal storylines out of this.

And I just don't see how they can develop all of that with depth in the ~85 minutes remaining to this season*, so things are gonna get dropped and with the prevalance that has been put on big emergencies in recent episodes and the plot related stuff that needs to be wrapped up, it seems like it's going to be the emotional stuff that won't make the cut. People can give a hundred Watsonian justifications for why characters might react in certain ways, but none of that changes that personal grief reactions from Bobby's team have so far had less individual narrative focus than fucking Gerrard and the show has left themselves little room to rectify that.

*Obviously they could pick some of those plot points up in S9 and I would expect the grief to carry over between seasons, but I think killing Bobby off in April and then pausing most of the impact of that until probably well into October (given the limits they'll have on doing character stuff in what will presumably be another big disaster multi-part season opener) would be sloppy pacing that diminishes the emotional impact of Bobby's death. There's a reason when they carried Buck's injury plotline over from S2 to S3 they gave him an embolism so that there would be a recent event to bring the impact and required emotional beats back to relevance rather than expecting people to still be fully engaged with the bombing plotline from months previously.

[captain-hawks]

trace the outlines of your dreams

jean kirstein x f!reader

summary: Jean saves you in the midst of a bloody battle, and in the aftermath, you both figure out some important things—the impending end of the world be damned. [set during episode 85]

word count: 4.9k

content: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, best friends to lovers speed run, unrequited love? jk its requited, blood + injuries, protective jean, but UNprotected sex, rough sex, jean's big dick, fingering, praise kink, dry humping, light dom!jean vibes, creampie

In the years that have passed since you first joined the Scout Regiment, you’ve imagined a thousand different ways you might possibly die while bearing the weight of that damned winged insignia on your chest.

A thousand ways you’d go down fighting tooth and nail, bloody and battered but with the knowledge that, at the very least, you’d tried to help make a difference.

But after all this time, you still hadn’t thought you’d make your last stand here of all places: cornered in the narrow space between two looming buildings by three of your former comrades—now Jaegerists—struggling to stand on your own two feet and virtually defenseless. 

They advance on you slowly, snickering as your smashed ODM gear refuses to cooperate, not any sort of state to function after how hard you were tackled against the unforgiving brick building mid-air just moments ago. Your gear absorbed a decent amount of the blow, enough for all of the important bits to be irreparably damaged, but not before your head took a hit as well. Warm blood drips down your face, and you blink hard against the wave of dizziness that threatens to overcome your senses. 

The futile step you attempt to take backward has you gritting your teeth, ankle barking in pain, protesting that you’re asking any more of it after the impact your legs took when you landed on the dusty gravel. You consider calling out for the others, but you know they’ll never hear you over the chaos of the battle that’s unfolding, the roar of the Titans reverberating deep in the marrow of your bones. 

Maybe you’ve finally run out of your share of borrowed time. 

The Jaegerists continue to close in on you, snickering at the way you try to steel yourself even in the face of oncoming death, and your mind goes quiet for a moment as you let it settle on one last thought—you hope that if nothing else, Jean lives to see this through to the very end.

He deserves the quiet life he’s always wanted. 

“Oh, it’s you.”

A shudder runs down your spine as a voice full of disdain sends your attention careening back to the present. 

Floch.

The Jaegerists hastily sidestep as the red-haired man swiftly pushes his way between them, blood that you’re certain doesn’t belong to him smearing across his brow as he runs a hand through his hair and offers you a grin that’s downright feral. With a dismissive wave of his hand, his comrades take their leave back to the roof and into the fray of battle. 

“I was upset when I realized that you left me, you know,” he drawls, reaching out to brush his thumb over your jaw.

Your stomach roils, and Floch clicks his tongue when you turn away from his touch, firmly grasping your chin. You can feel the warm, sticky blood his fingers leave in their wake as he continues, “I had a feeling Jean might betray me. But you? How could you?”

The rough feeling of brick digs into your shoulders as he crowds you against the wall of the building, his breath hot against your face. 

Floch was always a little too interested in you, even before things really started to go to hell. At least that’s what Jean always grumbled, anyway. So when you finally, briefly, deigned to give him the time of day, if only to help your fellow comrades pull one over on the Jaegerists before making a run for it, you should have known the volatile man would be anything but forgiving when he realized you’d been batting your eyes and swaying your hips to distract him.

“Get your hands off of me, Floch,” you growl, the anger flaring up inside of you at odds with the rapid, terrified beating of your heart.

Floch blatantly ignores you, choosing instead to run a finger over your bottom lip, and the coppery tang of blood seeps into your mouth. You stifle the urge to gag, knowing how badly he wants you to flinch. 

“It’s a bit sad…how you’ve always followed Jean like a loyal little lap dog. Waiting and waiting for him to notice you, too fucking stupid to realize he’s obviously in love with Mikasa.”

His words hit you like a slap to the face.

Your knees threaten to give out beneath you under the weight of a truth you know you can’t look away from. Not now that someone’s finally said it out loud. 

You really hadn’t thought it would end like this—with a whimper.

“We could have had something, you and I,” he rasps, leaning in so close that his lips nearly brush over yours. “If only you weren’t so busy drooling over Kirstein’s dick.”

“I would have never picked you, Floch. Not now, not ever,” you whisper, eyes boring into his with one last shred of defiance as the world beneath your feet begins to ripple, your body feeling the effects of the blood loss from your head wound.

Something dark flashes in Floch’s eyes. “Kirstein probably won’t even realize you’re gone when I’m done with you. What a shame.”

You suck in a breath as he reaches a hand down to grasp a blade, willing your body to rally just enough strength to surge forward and tackle him. At the very least, you could go down with a fight. 

…but when the quiet, familiar whine of a wire and the deliberate crunch of boots along gravel is followed by the one voice that you know the cadence of by heart, you realize that you won’t have to. 

“Get your fucking hands off of her.”

A blade gleams at Floch’s neck as Jean Kirstein steps up behind him, your best friend’s eyes burning with rage. You can’t help the sob that rips from your throat when his expression softens ever so slightly when he steals a glance over at you, though his jaw ticks when he notices the smear of blood the other man left behind on your face. 

For all Jean’s hesitation about this leg of the mission, his uncertainty about his ability to take the lives of his brainwashed comrades, you know that he’ll kill Floch right here and right now. You can see it in his posture, the utter stillness of his body. The way this entire moment feels utterly frozen in time as Floch realizes it, too. 

And even if part of you wants it, wants to live out whatever’s left of what might be your final days knowing that Floch finally got what was coming to him, you know it’s not worth the risk. Not when shouts have begun to ring out from your friends, urging everyone to get to the ship. Not when you know Jean will hold the other man back with his bare hands so you can escape without him, if that’s what it comes down to. 

So it’s the subtle shake of your head that determines Jean’s next move, one that doesn’t involve his blade and Floch’s throat. Instead, with nothing but the element of surprise on your side, Floch is blindsided by the foot you drive between his legs with all your might, white-hot pain blooming from your ankle at the impact. The moment that he drops down onto one knee, groaning, is all that Jean needs to pull you to him. 

“Jean,” you choke out, his name caught somewhere between a gasp and a sob as you collapse into him and fist your hands in his shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, protectively wrapping one arm around you as he engages his ODM gear and carries you both toward the docks. And despite all of the chaos unraveling all around you, you swear that you can feel Jean’s heart pounding in his chest just as hard as your own. 

The next few hours after you set off to sea are a blur, your body still shaking with adrenaline as various sets of hands examine your injuries. Everything feels a little fuzzy around the edges, and the most you can really register is the warm press of Jean against you all the while and the tickle of his hair along your cheek each time he growls at someone to be gentle when you groan in pain as they clean and dress your wounds. 

It’s dark out when you finally come to, the fog in your mind parting as you wake up to find your limbs tangled in a scratchy wool blanket. You sit up, the thin mattress creaking beneath you, and rub at your eyes as they adjust to the dim lighting in the room. A small lantern sits perched on a table nearby, illuminating a cup that you can only hope contains water. Exhaling a quiet sigh of relief when you tentatively place it to your lips and confirm your suspicions, you drink heavily, only pausing at the sound of footsteps scuffing outside of the doorway.

“There’s another open room next to Conny’s,” you hear Armin say.

“She’s staying with me,” Jean’s voice cuts in, brokering no room for argument. 

You put the cup down and settle back onto the bed, watching as the sliver of light from the outline of the door grows when Jean carefully steps into the room, pushing it shut again behind him. 

When he realizes you’re sitting up, he swiftly crosses the room, coming to sit beside you on the mattress.

“You’re up,” he exhales, sounding relieved.

You offer him a small smile, hyper aware of the way his knee brushes against yours, heartbeat thundering when he reaches out to tilt your chin toward him. Vaguely, you wonder if you’re dreaming. 

“Your head finally stopped bleeding,” he comments, eyeing the bandage on your head. 

Right.

Mentally kicking yourself, you meet his gaze, willing your voice to stay steady as you say, “Thanks for saving me, Jean.”

One of his hands finds its way to your leg, fingers softly curling over your knee. “You know I always will,” he murmurs, echoing the promise he’d made to you years ago when you both joined the Scout Regiment. 

In another life, maybe that version of you would be selfish enough to grasp Jean by his collar and kiss him right here and now for those words, pretending you misunderstood their meaning. Words that could mean so much more in another context, were it not for the stark line of demarcation between your feelings for him and the reality of your friendship. 

Maybe you’d climb into his lap and try to make him forget all about her.

Even just for one night.

“I feel like you shouldn’t be thinking so hard after splitting your head open,” Jean comments with a chuckle when he observes your furrowed brows, gently pressing his fingertips to your temple as his attention shakes you from your thoughts.

“Sorry, it’s just been a long day,” you lie, feigning a stretch for good measure.

Jean drops his hand back down to his side as you shift, looking sheepish. “Long week, long year. You’re telling me. I think we both need a vacation.”

You snort, finally willing yourself to ask, “How’s Mikasa?”

Jean tilts his head to the side at the question, eyes narrowing a bit. “She’s fine. Armin’s a little worse for wear, but he’ll heal up soon.”

You nod, turning your gaze to the corner of the room. “You don’t need to stay in here with me tonight if you want to go and keep her company. I’ll be okay.”

Your best friend looks nothing short of perplexed at the clear insinuation in your words. “...why would I do that?”

“Because you…” you trail off, not sure why it’s so hard to verbalize Jean’s crush to his face.

Jean’s fingers brush along your cheek, urging you to look at him. “I what?”

You huff in annoyance, not sure why he’s making you say it outloud. “You and Mikasa…”

“There’s no ‘me and Mikasa’,” he says plainly. 

Heart thundering in your chest, you glare at him before looking up at the ceiling in embarrassment and exasperation. “And there’s not ever going to be if you don’t get it together and tell her how you feel before we all die here.”

Jean clicks his tongue against his teeth, and your entire body goes still at the sudden feeling of his hot breath caressing the shell of your ear, “But she’s not the person I’ve been too much of a coward to tell how I feel.”

What?

“What?” you breathe out, whipping around to face him, the air swiftly leaving your lungs when you realize just how close he is, the tip of your nose brushing against his own.

Jean’s thumb traces your lower lip. “It’s always been you.”

At a loss for words, all you can manage to get out is, “Why now?”

“I used to hope you’d find someone that’d convince you to leave the Scouts and live a safe life behind the walls, something I couldn’t give you.”

Your heart aches at that, knowing that’s the life Jean always wanted, too. The one he left behind knowing how selfish it would be to waste the talent he could offer to the Scouts.. 

And perhaps it makes sense now—the way he’d subtly tried to find ways to hint that maybe you shouldn’t join the Regiment after all, all those years ago. The conflicted look of pain in his eyes the first time you’d proudly worn the Wings of Freedom.

“I didn’t think I could ever be enough to deserve you,” he continues. “Not even now.”

Hearing the uncertainty in Jean’s voice throws you off-kilter; it’s a far cry from the confident man you know him to be. You can’t help but offer him an incredulous look in return, baffled by the irony of it all—he’s the only person you care to spend the rest of your life with, after all. 

Even if this is all you have left—these last few days, hours, moments. 

A choked out sound leaves Jean’s mouth; apparently you said that out loud. “So you’re telling me…”

He cups the back of your head, eyes searching your face.

“...I should have done this…”

His other hand finds yours, fingers lacing together.

“...a long time ago.”

A shudder crawls down your spine at the feeling of Jean’s lips brushing atop your own. It’s a tentative touch, one that you press back into between one breath and the next. And as you sigh against his mouth, your own fingers reaching up to tangle in his hair, Jean stops holding back.

Legs hanging over the edge of the bed, Jean swiftly pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around you as his lips chase yours with fervor. You straddle him, basking in the warmth of his body heat pressing into your own, savoring the rough press of the calluses on his fingers—built up from years of using the ODM gear—as he explores the expanse of bare skin on your back where your shirt has bunched up.

You can hardly be bothered to break for air as Jean’s lips slot against yours, toes curling against the mattress when he licks his way inside of your mouth. He groans as the kiss grows messier, your body arching into his at the feeling of his tongue tangling with your own. 

Once upon a time, you’d exclaimed that nothing could compare to the feeling of finally mastering the ODM gear, the exhilarating rush of clearing rooftops and treelines with such seamless precision. The swelling elation in your chest to finally understand what it feels like to fly.

It’s a feeling that you’ve chased for years, the feeling that’s carried you through each and every battle to this day.

Kissing Jean feels like that—like flying.

But there’s no anchor here. No wires. No blades at your hips nor enemies at your back.

With Jean’s lips on yours, you float untethered, the weight on your shoulders and heaviness of your heart long forgotten passengers left far below as you soar. 

And you let go, freefalling. Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’ll catch you. 

He’ll always catch you.

Jean’s lips part from yours to blaze a hot trail along the curve of your jaw, pressing kisses along your neck. Dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin where your earlobe meets the hinge of your jaw, his voice is rough as he murmurs, “I love you.”

There’s a hitch in his breath when you say it back without hesitation—it’s a truth you’ve always known yourself to feel, even if you could never tell him as much. He pulls you impossibly closer, fingers digging into your hips, mouth seeking yours out once more.

And as you feel his growing hardness beneath you, you can’t help but pointedly rock into the cradle of his lap, a breathy moan leaving you at the pressure of his cock rubbing against you. The sensation and Jean’s own answering moan draw up memories of all the nights you spent imagining this, face buried against your pillow to muffle the sounds as you fingered yourself to thoughts of your best friend right there in your bed in the barracks. 

If your lives still held any semblance of normalcy, maybe you’d prolong this endeavor, taking your time to savor the taste of Jean’s mouth on your own first before anything else, exploring him in bits and pieces. 

But with what may very well be the end of the world looming far too close for comfort, there’s no time for patience. 

“Can I…do you want to…?” Jean trails off, breathing heavily as his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, the rest of the question dancing in his eyes as he’s clearly having the same thoughts as you are. 

“Jean Kirstein, if I die without fucking you—”

He doesn’t give you the chance to finish your sentence, cutting you off with a kiss as his hands find their way to your breasts. He’s barely begun to squeeze them before you break apart from him for a moment, slipping off your top and tossing it halfway across the room before grabbing for his shirt as well. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jean breathes out once you pull his shirt over his head, pausing to take in the sight of your supple breasts before him, running a thumb across one of your peaked nipples. 

His mouth quirks upward at the way you shiver in response to his touch, eyes blazing with hunger when your lips part, silently begging for more. Jean leans in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, and you thread your fingers into his hair, urging him to continue as he shamelessly begins to suckle at the sensitive bud. 

You’re helpless to deny your body’s need to grind down onto Jean’s bulge, your folds pressing into your slick, damp underwear with each thrust of your hips. His lips slide away from your breasts so he can sink his teeth into your shoulder, muffling the feral groan that rumbles in his chest in response to the way you’ve desperately begun to dry hump his cock. 

Fingers trail along the waistband of your pants, flicking them open with ease to gain access to the soft, white cotton panties beneath. Jean nips his way up your neck, pausing to suck at your pulse point as he asks, “Are you wet for me?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he slips a hand into your underwear, a strangled “oh” the only sound he’s able to offer for a moment once he realizes you’re fucking soaked. He swipes three dexterous fingers along your sensitive slit, pulling them out of your pants to marvel at the sticky mess dripping off of his digits before licking each one clean. 

The sight of that alone nearly sends you over the edge, your tight hole fluttering in anticipation. You rock your hips once more, and his eyes glint with a hint of amusement as his hand makes its way back into your underwear.

Jean wastes no time in sinking a finger into your waiting hole, slowly sliding it in and out of you as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the underside of your jaw. Meanwhile, you grasp his throbbing cock through his pants, fingers teasing at the wet spot of precum that’s soaked through the material, and he bucks upward into your touch.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, stretching you open with another finger while his free hand gropes your breasts. You move your hips quicker than the diligent thrusts of his fingers, asking for more, and his chuckle drips through you like warm honey as he obliges your request with a third digit and murmurs, “How’s this?”

The sound of him fucking you with his fingers is downright obscene, the digits squelching wetly with each movement. The pleasure mounting within you has your thighs trembling with anticipation. But as you continue to fondle the outline of his cock, all you can think about is how goddamn big it feels. 

“Jean,” you whine, incapable of stringing together words to appropriately express the sentiment that you’d really, really like him to fuck you stupid with his dick right now.

He cups your face, the tender gesture at odds with the fingers curling and stroking your spongy inner walls. Jean leans in to capture your mouth in a messy, heated kiss, leaving a string of saliva trailing from your lips to his when he pulls back slightly to murmur, “If you want more, you have to come on my fingers first.”

You’ve spent more time than you’ll ever admit fantasizing the dirty, filthy things Jean might say to you while taking you apart, thoughts that have clung to your mind and sometimes forced you to avoid your best friend out of embarrassment for days at a time. 

But nothing can compare to this—the way his rough voice scrapes alive each and every nerve ending in the deepest recesses of your body. The undeniably dominant tone each word is laced with, and the instinctual reaction it viscerally awakens inside of you. 

Jean’s thumb presses into your swollen clit at the same time he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down, and the swelling wave of pleasure in your abdomen finally crests. Your entire body tenses as you moan, riding out your climax on his fingers until the overstimulation has your legs quivering for momentary reprieve.

“Good girl,” he praises, slowly pulling his sticky fingers out of your pants. 

You don’t hesitate to reach for his waiting cock, eager to feel its thick warmth cradled in your fingers, but he gently nudges your hand away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You huff in annoyance, and he shakes his head, “You’ve got me so wound up, I won’t last like this.”

“You wanna fuck me, Jean?” you coyly ask.

Idly teasing at one of your nipples, Jean’s answering grin is nothing short of wolfish. “You’re so tight, we’ll have to see if you can take me.”

You raise an eyebrow at the hint of challenge in his tone, though if what you’ve felt through his pants is anything to go by, you can’t deny it’s likely warranted.

The bedsheets rustle and the mattress squeaks as you both make quick work of the remainder of your clothes, underwear and pants left forgotten on the floor while Jean kisses and nips his way up the planes and curves of your naked body, his hands exploring each and every dip and crevice with reverence. When his lips finally meet yours once more, his hair tickling your face as he leans over top of you, anticipation curls in your gut at the feeling of what now presses against your naked body.

Your eyes trail down Jean’s chest, fingernails gently scraping over his nipples, and he sucks in a breath as you slide closer to your destination. His thick cock is a sight to behold, hanging heavily between his legs, and there’s not a trace of shame in the way your mouth waters at the thought of him stretching your slick cunt open with it.

As if reading your thoughts, Jean pushes your thighs apart, slapping his fat length against the puffy, sensitive folds of your pussy. Your back arches up off of the mattress of its own accord, and he hums, one hand firmly grasping your hip as the other wipes the flushed head of his shaft up and down your sticky slit. 

His name spills from your kiss-swollen lips, your neck muscles straining from how hard you’re pressing your head back down into the pillow underneath you. And when your drenched cunt greedily accepts the tip of his cock as he notches it at your entrance, pumping a spit-soaked palm along the length of it, it’s all you can do not to spear yourself on him entirely. 

“So eager,” Jean muses, watching the telltale signs of your thinly veiled restraint as he makes no effort to move any further. 

“Jean, please,” you beg, fully aware that this reaction is exactly what he wanted. 

He leans down, mouth latching onto one of your breasts, and you gasp as he slides into you just a little bit further while he traces wet, messy circles around your hard nipple. You grasp a fistful of his hair, finding another reason to be thankful for the way he’s let it grow out as of late as you tug his face up to yours.

“Yes?” he asks, a sparkle of mirth dancing in his lustful gaze as he smiles down at you.

“Fuck me,” you pant out, tightening your grip on his hair.

You hardly have time to appreciate the moan that drags out of him before he kisses you hard, plunging the full length of his cock into your cunt, directly to the hilt. The stretch is like nothing you’ve ever felt before, your walls spasming in protest as all of the air punches out of your lungs. But despite the impossibly tight fit, your pussy greedily takes every inch of Jean’s cock, tears of pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

“Holy shit,” Jean moans as your pussy clamps down on him, so hot and wet he nearly blows his load right then and there. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Fresh arousal dribbles wetly from your entrance and onto the base of his shaft, each and every nerve ending in your body buzzing like a livewire. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, swallowed up within the warmth of your cunt, his balls hanging heavily against your ass. Jean’s careful as he begins to ease out of you, well aware of the way your walls are so desperately choking his thick length. 

It’s why he’s surprised when you grasp at the soft strands of his hair once more and breathe out impatiently, “I’m not going to break, you know.”

Jean leans in and murmurs against your lips, “What are you trying to say? You like it rough?”

You nod, running your teeth along his bottom lip, “Yeah, Jean. I do.”

Cock now resting at your fluttering entrance once more, Jean groans as he snaps his hips into yours, burying himself deep in your soaking wet pussy. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs as you writhe and keen in pleasure beneath him, your tits bouncing with each thrust as he begins to ravage your hole. “Taking me so, so good.”

“Feels so good,” you nearly sob, head spinning with the pleasure threatening to spill over inside of you. 

Jean’s kisses are all tongues and teeth, filthy and messy as his thrusts begin to grow sloppy. “Come all over my cock, baby. Please,” he groans. “Please, please.”

He’s begging for it, begging to feel your cunt clamp down and gush all over his dick.

He’s so fucking close, balls seizing up, his entire body straining from the effort to bring you to your climax first.

“Come. For. Me.”

And it’s the desperation in his voice that sends you hurtling over the edge, a bright, searing lightning strike of pleasure like you’ve never known before bursting open inside of you as you succumb to an orgasm that leaves you positively boneless. 

“Inside,” you gasp just as Jean goes to pull out.

His answering groan is the most sinful sound you’ve ever heard as he plunges back into you, his forehead falling against yours while you both revel in the feeling of your walls spasming and contracting against his cock while he fills your cunt with spurt after spurt of hot, sticky cum. 

Jean flops down onto the bed beside you after you’ve milked every last drop of his seed from his softening cock, breathing hard, both of you too spent to fumble for something to clean up the mess of cum that lingers between you. Instead, he tugs you against the warmth of his chest, pressing a gentle assault of kisses everywhere on your face but your lips. 

You pout as he pointedly avoids your mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth toward yours. Jean smiles, the expression filled with unabashed adoration and fondness so stark that you swear your heart stutters in your chest. 

“I’m gonna marry you when this is all over,” he whispers into the scant space between your mouths, each syllable brushing across your lips.

“You promise?”

You can feel Jean smile into his answering kiss.

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

[homucifer-ryotan]

My Hazbin Hotel voice headcanons: Eve and Archangels Michael and Raphael

Note: Images and videos are not mine. These are not official choices made by Vivziepop or A24/Amazon. These are just my headcanons.

With recent news of Hazbin Hotel season 3 being mostly done (they just have to animated it apparently), I thought it would be a good time to finally post my voice headcanons that I had for the last few months now (I am not kidding, this has been in my drafts for months now)

Eva Noblezada as Eve

No, it is not because her name is Eva (although it is a little funny), it's because a) her singing voice is amazing, and b) she already has done voice acting before (Sam from Luck). I think Eva deserves another voice acting role and I can see her doing Eve's voice.

Speaking voice example:

Singing voice examples (I am so normal about her singing) :

(This video down here has her just talking too.)

"I'm eating macaroni and cheese before I go to hell."

(There is more, but I will stop here since Tumblr will only allow me to show 10 videos that aren't links).

Another reason is the fact that Eve has worked two voice actors that already have roles in the Hellaverse. One is Patrick Page (Helluva Boss Satan) when doing Hadestown in 2019, and two is Jeremy Jordan (Hazbin's Lucifer Morningstar) when doing the Great Gatsby Musical in 2023.

Like if we get to see the actual scene of Lucifer giving Eve the apple (which I think we will), I would not be surprise if it's a duet between Eve and Lucifer. This is would be another pro if Eva got the role of Eve.

(An duet between Eve and Lucifer doesn't have to romantic like "My Green Light" by the way. I am just saying that I don't think anyone would object to Eva and Jeremy having another duet song.)

Also image a (different) duet between Eve and Charlie sung by Eva Noblezada and Erika Henningsen... that would be awesome.

And even Eva doesn't cast for Eve, I feel like it would a huge missed opportunity for her not to be on Hazbin Hotel in someway.

Aaron Tveit as Michael

Now Aaron hasn't done any voice acting (unless you count him being a narrator for a couple of audio books), but he is a) an Broadway actor and b) his voice is, imho, angelic that it fits an angel like a Hazbin Hotel Michael.

Singing voice (like Eva, I am so normal about his singing):

He starts singing in 1 minute after quickly talking about how he got casted for Les Misérables (2012).

(Warning for loud volume in this video below (especially near the end) thanks to the crowd as this video is a live recording. )

(Like Eva, there are more video of his singing you can find on Youtube. I recommend hearing this one and especially these 2 to understand why I think he should be Michael).

There is also the fact that Aaron has been compared to Jeremy Jordon before because of their tenor singing. Makes sense for him to voice a character who (85%) likely going to be Lucifer's brother (especially commonly believed to be Lucifer's twin brother).

Not to mention all the kinds of duets that Aaron!Michael could have with other characters. Lucifer, Charlie, Emily, Sera, a possible sinner Adam maybe, I could go on.

And last but not least:

Bryce Pinkham as Raphael

I made a post a few months ago about this, and I still stand on it.

Here is Bryce singing (that has nothing to do with Stolas) where already sounds like character from heaven:

Plus like I said in my old post, the huge irony for Stolas to have his VA also voice the Archangel of marriage, lovers, healing and mental health

Yes I am including Stolas punching Andrealphus because I can.

Plus I think it would be a nice change for Bryce to voice a character that has a little less angst to them for a change of pace.

Fell free to let me know what you think.

Let's see how this post will age when season 2 or 3 comes out.

[shiningwonderland]

Ren Jinguji (Repeat)

Translator: Nadie (Twitter: NmoniaG)

Proofreader: Raz (Twitter: agnadance)

Editor: Snail (Twitter: herbert_snail)

QA: Rei (Twitter: wolfe_raine)

True Love End - With a Cantabile Kiss

Such a grand and magnificent voice. His technique was endlessly mesmerizing to everyone who listens.

Jinguji-san pushed the senses he was born with to the maximum. It was his greatest performance yet.

He had perfected not only the song but also every single move he made.

He had fully grasped how the audience saw and heard him and made his moves accordingly.

Even without seeing his movements, his voice alone was enough to feel the expression in his singing.

Each word was so clear that it went straight to the heart.

He made everyone here realize that once a prodigy like him puts effort into something, they're unbeatable.

Jinguji-san, you kept your promise to me.

"No matter what I have to sacrifice, I'll become a professional." You made me realize the weight of those words.

Before he went on stage, he told me that I'll understand when I hear the song.

After hearing his song, I understand that he used all his power to make my dream of debuting together come true.

I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Female Student A: Amazing... Not only was he cool and kind, but he's also such a talented person... I've never seen Ren-kun so passionate.

Male Student A: That was really awesome! There's no way anyone could beat him. Even if you scoured the globe, I doubt you could find anyone who could beat his voice.

Seiichiro Jinguji: Ren... you... I see now that this is a great song. I understand why you were so confident in it. You are an even more wonderful singer than our mother.

After the song ends, Jinguji-san bows deeply to the audience, then winks and throws them a kiss.

"WAAAH—!"

Almost every woman screams at the top of their lungs.

Jinguji-san makes his way to the edge of the stage, smiling at the shouts of joy as he goes.

Soon all the contestants had their turn, so now all we have to do is wait for the result.

The winner of the graduation audition will be determined by the votes of the audience and the nine judges, which include the principal.

Each of the nine judges can award up to ten points for a performance.

The audience votes for their favorite performance. First place with the most votes gets ten points, second place nine, and so on up to tenth place.

The winners will be the ones who have the most points from the two voting systems combined. They will be hired by the Shining Agency as a new idol and can take the next step towards becoming a top idol.

Students who don't win but score at least 85 points can still be hired by the Shining Agency.

There are also agents from other agencies watching the graduation audition…

Even if you don't get a chance to join the Shining Agency, you might still get scouted by other agencies.

If that's true, then that's good to know.

But it's different for me now. If I don't win, I can't become a professional.

Jinguji-san's singing and performance were perfect.

But the composition was made by me... I wonder if it could make full use of Jinguji-san's true strength...

The more amazing Jinguji-san becomes, the more anxious I get.

Ryuya Hyuga: The winner of this year's graduation audition is… Ren Jinguji!

An astonishing amount of cheering and applause erupts from the audience. And it is all directed at Jinguji-san.

Ryuya Hyuga: Here is your trophy. You imbued that song with your signature charm, complete with a stellar performance.

Ren Jinguji: Well, it's just that easy if I really try.

Ryuya Hyuga: Really, you... Well, you're not wrong. Honestly, you should have just done that from the beginning.

Ren Jinguji: That's different. It's the song that let me go all the way. It brought out my real strength, no, even more of my appeal.

Ryuya Hyuga: That so? In that case, you won this time because of the song.

Ren Jinguji: —And let's not forget the girls at the venue who cheered me on... Thank you… It's all thanks to everyone's support.

And with that, Jinguji-san lifts the trophy up high and winks at the audience.

This results in more shrill cheering.

Shining Saotome: You have secured such a large number of fans even before you made your debut? I expected nothing less!

Ren Jinguji: Well, it's more that the ladies can't get enough of me. But... there are more important things than that... Right?

Jinguji-san turns his attention to me while I'm still in the wing of the stage and flashes me a broad smile. My heartbeat quickens just by our eyes meeting.

When I heard this song earlier, I felt this overflowing love. I felt like I couldn't hold back those feelings anymore.

Although I had decided for us to remain partners as idol and composer...

I might accidentally tell him I love him again if I met him now.

I didn't know what to do, so I escaped from the wing of the stage without saying a word to Jinguji-san.

Ren Jinguji: …!

Our gazes only met for a moment, but as I was turning, I saw his eyes widen in surprise. He was about to say something.

Unable to stop, I leave this place behind.

I hurry away without a word, but it is for the best.

I can't possibly cause him more trouble after he has worked so hard, and I don't want to disappoint him.

But… I love him… I love him so much…

I can't stop these feelings, so it's better if we don't meet for now...

The door opens with a clatter and Jinguji-san bursts into the classroom.

Haruka Nanami: Jinguji-san!!

He must have been in a hurry. His shoulders heave with his ragged breathing.

Ren Jinguji: There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you, Lady. My goodness, why did you disappear so suddenly... Hah, hah...

Ren Jinguji: Did my song… not reach your heart?

Haruka Nanami: That's impossible! It clearly reached my heart!

Haruka Nanami: Your feelings about your desire to become a professional reached me to a painful degree. That's why I want to continue working with you...

Haruka Nanami: As your partner, I'll try not to cause you any trouble. So please let me stay with you!

… That… should be enough…

My love for him will only burden him. So this is enough.

Jinguji-san responds to my words by pushing his hair up with a troubled expression on his face.

Ren Jinguji: You're wrong... That's not what I was trying to convey... Besides, if that was the case, why did you run away?

Haruka Nanami: Ah, um... I'm sorry... I... got scared...

Haruka Nanami: I didn't know what to do... Listening to your song made my love for you overflow, I couldn't hold it back...

Ren Jinguji: …......

Haruka Nanami: I have to organize my feelings.

Ren Jinguji: …......

Haruka Nanami: With that in mind… I…

Ren Jinguji: …......

Haruka Nanami: …......

Ren Jinguji: … You were… scared? That should be my line.

Haruka Nanami: What…?

Ren Jinguji: … I was also scared… this whole time…

He was scared? Him?

Why…? I look intently at Jinguji-san's face.

Ren Jinguji: …......

Haruka Nanami: …......

Ren Jinguji: …......

But he remains with a troubled expression on his face, looks as if he wants to say something, and then bites his lip hard.

Could it be because I said the word "love" again?

Could he be thinking of ending our partnership right now?

He has already told me that he is going to pretend that he did not hear it.

As professionals, our relationship should stay as composer and idol.

Just because I was irresponsible and confessed again... He must be completely fed up with me by now...

Haruka Nanami: … I'm sorry...

Unconsciously, my tears overflow.

Ren Jinguji: Why are you apologizing? There's nothing to apologize for. You're the one person I never want to make cry, and yet how did it end up this way…?

Ren Jinguji: —! …Despite loving you so much.

He mutters softly in a trembling voice, his fist slightly shaking.

Haruka Nanami: Huh…? What did you just say…?

I think I misheard. This cannot be true.

Ren Jinguji: It's so strange... I've whispered words of love so many times, and yet... When I'm in front of the person I really care about, I can't say a single decent line.

He hugs me, squeezing me tightly.

Ren Jinguji: …Haruka… I love you…

Ren Jinguji: It's hopeless, I can't think of any other words than these. But I was always so afraid... I was afraid you'd break if I touched you...

Ren Jinguji: I have never really loved someone like this. I didn't have the confidence to cherish anyone either.

Ren Jinguji: I never realized I was such a cowardly human being. The more I loved you, the more I was afraid of losing you... to the point where I couldn't touch you.

Jinguji-san…? A coward…?

Ren Jinguji: I wanted to treat you kindly, but I couldn't control these feelings well, so I ended up hurting you with my insincere attitude and words. All of this in spite of the fact that I love you very much.

Ren Jinguji: I was irritated because I was forcibly suppressing those emotions, and sometimes I even lashed out at you. Despite that, you were always kind and honest with me.

Ren Jinguji: Since I'm saying this all of a sudden, you may not believe me. But I'm going to say it as many times as it takes until you do. I'm in love with you and I cherish you very much.

Haruka Nanami: …!

Ren Jinguji: I've been in love with you ever since that day in August when you composed a song just for me. I love you so much, I’m losing my mind.

Ren Jinguji: No matter what, I wanted your dream to come true, I wanted you to become a composer. Helping you achieve this dream was my only expression of love...

Ren Jinguji: I misunderstood you, spun my wheels, and hurt you over and over again. I felt like I was being torn to pieces when I pushed you away while you were lost, hurting and barely holding on.

Ren Jinguji: Back then, however, I thought this was for the best. Because I know that spoiling people meaninglessly can make them useless so easily.

He did that… for me?

Ren Jinguji: Out of all people I didn't want you to become like that. I knew you could have collapsed under the circumstances, but I tried desperately to suppress the urge to hug you.

Ren Jinguji: I forced myself to act cold to you. But in reality, all I wanted was to embrace you, kiss you and let you cry as much as you want in my arms...

Ren Jinguji: I was depressed because I thought you hated me. I comforted myself by telling myself that as long as the results were good, I'd be okay. Now that your dream has come true, I can no longer hide my feelings.

Ren Jinguji: I love you. I can love no one but you. I love you so, so much that it's unbearable! I love you… I love you with all my heart.

He hugs me so tightly and whispers "I love you" in my ear over and over again.

Haruka Nanami: There are times when one song can convey a message better than a thousand words.

I lift my head and look into Jinguji-san's eyes.

Ren Jinguji: Huh…?

Haruka Nanami: Since the moment I heard your song I knew it. You conveyed it to me. But I was simply too scared to admit it…

Haruka Nanami: But what if I misunderstood? I didn't want to be shocked and gave up before believing it. I ran away, but now I don't doubt it anymore.

I understand without a doubt that he loves me deeply.

Ren Jinguji: Am I really enough? Are you really fine with me?

Haruka Nanami: … Yes.

I nod my head deeply.

A smile spreads over his whole face and he hugs me tightly once more.

Ren Jinguji: Thank you, Lady. I will definitely... make you happy.

He mumbles in a husky voice. His hand trembles as he gently combs through my hair.

Ren Jinguji: I love you... I love you, Haruka. So much, it's suffocating... Sorry, I can't hold back anymore...

After giving me a peck-like kiss, he smiles oh-so-softly for just a split second before leaning in for another one, longer and more passionate this time.

Haruka Nanami: …Nh…

We felt each other for what seemed like an eternity before slowly parting our lips.

And then we strongly and tightly embraced each other.

Ren Jinguji: I've… lost my composure. I'm so lame... But I like you so much that even my composure dissolves.

We look at each other and then kiss again. Then we stare intently at each other once again.

Ren Jinguji: Nh… Huff. Lady… We'll be together forever now. I won't let you go until the day I die. I'll never let you go...

Jinguji-san whispers into my ear.

And, at that moment.

Shining Saotome: Thanks, I've heard every last word!

The principal comes breaking through the ceiling of the classroom.

Haruka Nanami: What?! P-Principal!!!

Ren Jinguji: Boss… The mood was so good just now. Did you come here to interrupt us?

The moment Jinguji-san saw the principal's face, he returned to his usual composure.

Shining Saotome: YES, that's riiight! Canoodling in the classroom is a big Non Non Non!

Ren Jinguji: Excuse me, at least say that we were having a passionate moment.

Jinguji-san suddenly flashes a calm smile.

Haruka Nanami: J-Jinguji-san, you can't say that!

Ren Jinguji: It's okay, Lady. We can't hide anything from the boss, so there's no need to keep up appearances. Besides, no matter what anyone tells me, I'm not going to stop loving you.

Haruka Nanami: Jinguji-san…

Shining Saotome: Ignoring me and creating this rosy atmosphere is also a Non Non Non!

Haruka Nanami: Oh, s-sorry…

Ren Jinguji: So? What do you want to do? Expel us? Or maybe withdraw our victory? 

Jinguji-san asks, to which the principal sinks into deep thought with a "Hm."

Shining Saotome: … To do so now would only mean that society would look at ME with cold eyes...

Shining Saotome: That song was already exposed to the public. In addition, it was decided that this song would become a commercial song as soon as it won.

Shining Saotome: Things kept changing because of me, so I can't go back on my words. This song will be played on all the TV stations like crazy.

Shining Saotome: You guys will become the center of attention. You will be so famous that I can't fire you just because you love each other.

Ren Jinguji: Hmph. I was expecting you to say that, Boss.

Shining Saotome: But to think that you, someone who was raised without knowing love, got to find it here at my academy… Fate is an interesting thing.

Shining Saotome: Normally, I would pull you apart, even if it's by force... However, I believe you will grow stronger by loving each other.

Shining Saotome: Besides, your love can't be stopped even if I were to try. Looks like you two have already overcome quite a few obstacles.

The principal suddenly flashes a kind smile and looks at me.

Shining Saotome: I'm sure you'll be able to handle idol-work and "love" well at the same time.

Ren Jinguji: Naturally!

Jinguji-san's smile is brimming with confidence.

Shining Saotome: …"Naturally," you say? There you have it. Then let me see with my own eyes the future you are heading for.

Shining Saotome: I'm going to make a special exception for you just this once. BUT! Make sure the people around you don't find out!

Ren Jinguji: O.K., Boss. I'll show you my flawless acting.

Shining Saotome: I have high expectations for you!

And like that, the principal leaves the classroom.

Ren Jinguji: We should also get going. I can't pledge my love to you here properly.

Jinguji-san softly pulls me closer by my shoulder and starts walking.

Seiichiro Jinguji: There you were, Ren. You weren't in your room, so I looked everywhere for you.

Now Jinguji-san's big brother has appeared.

Ren Jinguji: What did you come here for?

Seiichiro Jinguji: I went to see Saotome earlier. Technically, I'm still your guardian, so I came to affix my seal on the letter of consent.

Seiichiro Jinguji: Starting tomorrow, you'll be a full-fledged member of the Shining Agency. Isn't that great?

Ren Jinguji: Thanks, I guess.

Seiichiro Jinguji: It was a great song. You shone so brightly. You seemed so bored of your life until now, but I'm glad you've finally found something important to you.

Ren Jinguji: Yeah, singing… and the love of my life.

Jinguji-san glances at me fleetingly.

Seiichiro Jinguji: I see... That's great to hear.

Ren Jinguji: Great to hear...? Do you really think so? It could be the source of a scandal.

He wrinkles his face, looking unconvinced.

Seiichiro Jinguji: I know you'll be fine. And if you love her, then I'm sure you won't try to expose her to the inane mass media.

Seiichiro Jinguji: And to be honest, I'm relieved. I wasn't sure if you could really love someone since you never received parental love.

Seiichiro Jinguji: Looks like that worry was unnecessary. Your eyes... they’re kinder now. That's why you're going to be okay now.

He flashes a kind smile. It's a smile that looks a lot like Jinguji-san's.

Seiichiro Jinguji: Besides, that person is no longer here. He had us at his mercy for too long. You’re free now.

Ren Jinguji: Free…? Brother, what are you talking about—

Seiichiro Jinguji: Well, I'm the heir, so I have to inherit the conglomerate. But you can live your life however you want, Ren...

Seiichiro Jinguji: I won't let anyone complain as long as I'm the head of the conglomerate.

Ren Jinguji: Brother... I always thought you hated me. I thought you hated me just like Daddy did...

Jinguji-san mutters in a dumbfounded tone.

Seiichiro Jinguji: I could never hate you. You are my precious little brother.

Seiichiro Jinguji: It’s true, we haven't had a conversation like this for a long time. Our age difference is quite big, and it seems that we have neglected to try to understand each other.

Seiichiro Jinguji: And... I'm sorry, I couldn't protect you because I couldn't stand up to our father. I'll make sure to protect you from now on.

Ren Jinguji: No need. From now on, I'll start a new life with my lady. So I don't need your help.

Jinguji-san tightly grasps my hand.

Ren Jinguji: It's enough for you to watch over me, brother. I'll go my own way without losing my way. So don't worry.

Seiichiro Jinguji: You have grown up, Ren. That must be thanks to you, Nanami-san. Looks like I'm in the way here, so I'll leave now... I wish you every happiness.

Haruka Nanami: Your big brother was a nice person after all. He really cares for you, Jinguji-san.

Ren Jinguji: Seems like it… He was always next to me, but I was so busy thinking about myself that I never noticed his real feelings. Looks like I've still got a lot to learn.

Ren Jinguji: I did not notice his affection when we were close. I notice it now at a time when we are separated. There was nothing I could give back to him...

Haruka Nanami: That’s fine! You can just focus on restoring your bond, one day at a time!

Haruka Nanami: We can work hard and help revive your brother's company together!

Haruka Nanami: For you and your brother, this would be like a collaboration!

Haruka Nanami: There are so many things we could do! …Oh, we should make a song first! —!! I just got inspiration for one phrase!

Haruka Nanami: I have to write it down… Um, where is my notebook…

Ren Jinguji: Here are your music sheets. You always work so hard. Not just for yourself, but for others as well. That's one of the reasons why I fell in love with you.

Jinguji-san hands me blank music sheets and a mechanical pencil.

Haruka Nanami: T-thank you very much! Um…

Ren Jinguji: You really are such a music lover... But... That's why you shine the brightest when you compose.

He whispers into my ear and gently pats my head.

Jinguji-san stays by my side and watches me tenderly until I've finished writing the composition.

Ren Jinguji: Ohhh… This is good. This song is just your style, it's nice.

Jinguji-san smiles happily at the finished sheet music.

Ren Jinguji: Oh, that's right. Lady, do you have some time later? I want you to spend some time with me.

Haruka Nanami: Of course!!

Haruka Nanami: U-um… Is it really okay for me to be here?

At Jinguji-san's insistence, I went to the boys' dormitory and to Jinguji-san's room.

Ren Jinguji: We're going to be saying goodbye to this place soon, so I thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to make some memories while we still can.

He pulls me closer by my shoulder and kisses me on my cheek.

Haruka Nanami: Memories…?

What? What kind of memories?

He hugs me tightly from behind and whispers into my ear.

His breath tickles my ear and my body shudders instinctively.

Haruka Nanami: U-um… This is also Hijirikawa-sama's room... Won't it bother him if he comes back and I'm here...?

Ren Jinguji: Don't worry, he won't be back today. He'll be eating somewhere else with his father and little sister, since they've come to visit.

Haruka Nanami: Ah… I see…

Ren Jinguji: So... yeah. You get it, right? I can't contain myself anymore.

Jinguji-san puts his palm on mine and intertwines our fingers.

The heat I feel through our firmly joined hands reaches deep into my heart.

Ren Jinguji: I love you, Lady. I would like to do anything for you. What would you like? What do you demand from me? 

Haruka Nanami: Ah…um… I would be happy if we could stay together... I can't think of anything else... Um, I'm happy right now...

Ren Jinguji: How modest. I can't think like that. Lift your head… Nh…!

Haruka Nanami: …!

The kiss is so fiery I might melt.

Ren Jinguji: Just being together isn't enough. I want to touch you, kiss you and leave my marks all over your body to show that you're mine. Nh…

Haruka Nanami: … Ah…!

Jinguji-san's lips trace a line from my nape to the back of my neck.

Ren Jinguji: I love you. It's the first time I've ever loved someone like this.

Haruka Nanami: Ah… I… I love you too.

Loving someone for the first time and being loved for the first time can be quite confusing.

Ren Jinguji: Yeah, I know, Lady.

He hugs me securely and kisses the area around my eye.

Ren Jinguji: I want to treat you carefully, but at the same time I want to hug you so tight you might break. Even I am at a loss as to what to do.

Ren Jinguji: Surprisingly, I seem to be quite clumsy. I want to be gentle, but I can't hold back. I love you so much it's driving me crazy. All I want is you.

With his eyes gazing directly at me, I can feel my heart beating fast, thumping hard in my chest.

Ren Jinguji: I can't imagine a life without love or a future without you.

His arms tighten around me.

At this rate, he might hear my uncontrollable heartbeat.

Ren Jinguji: I'll keep saying it with my voice, with my hands, with my eyes. I love you. No one else, only you… Nh…

Haruka Nanami: … Nn…

It's an intense kiss that almost leaves me gasping for air, making me dizzy.

But it's so pleasant that I want to devote all of myself to him.

Haruka Nanami: … Ah…!

Everything is spinning, and the moment I start to wobble, Jinguji-san supports me lightly.

Ren Jinguji: …Huff… huff… Sorry, I guess that was a bit too passionate.

Haruka Nanami: …Ah… no… I also… want to feel you more… So…

Ren Jinguji: Are you sure you should say that? Remember, there's just the two of us here. You can't be sure what I'm going to do.

Ren Jinguji: Not even I seem to be able to hold back these emotions anymore. Will you still say yes to me? Are you sure, Haruka?

Haruka Nanami: … Yes.

Ren Jinguji: I love every part of you. I will cherish you more than anyone else in the world, so please... become mine. Nh—

And then Jinguji-san kisses me so passionately that I almost lose my mind.

Such fiery, intense and passionate love melts my heart. The time we spend in this delirium passes in the blink of an eye.

After that, Jinguji-san's workload increased every day. And so did his popularity.

I support him as his own special composer and his partner.

While things have been hectic, there has been no time for just Jinguji-san and I. But I'm happy that we're working hard together.

And then, one day…

Jinguji-san invited me to a party venue.

When I woke up this morning, I found a dress in my room with a note on it that said: "I want you to wear this dress and come to the party."

Confused, I put the dress on and hurried to the party venue.

Ren Jinguji: I've been waiting for you, Princess. Mm-hm, my choice was perfect. You look beautiful in this dress.

Haruka Nanami: U-um… What is this?

Ren Jinguji: Happy Birthday.

Haruka Nanami: Huh…? Oh… Today is my birthday…

My birthday… He remembered it.

Ren Jinguji: Come on. You even forgot your own birthday? Are you, by chance, working too hard again?

Haruka Nanami: But I won't forget your birthday… It's February 14th, Valentine's Day.

Ren Jinguji: Correct. As a result, I mostly get chocolate for my birthday. That's not too bad, but I would have preferred it to fall on a different day.

Haruka Nanami: In that case, I'll make something that isn't chocolate. Is there anything you want?

Ren Jinguji: That's an easy one. What I want is you, Haruka.

He takes my hand and kisses it.

Haruka Nanami: M-me? B-but wasn't I already yours…?

Haruka Nanami: I mean… Since I'm technically your… girlfriend…

Aaah, I'm blushing.

Since we started working together, Jinguji-san has been shining brighter and brighter. Is it really okay for someone like me to call herself his girlfriend?

From time to time, I get insecure about it. 

Ren Jinguji: Yes, you are my girlfriend… for now.

For now... Yes, he's right. The day may come when I'm not his girlfriend anymore.

Since Jinguji-san is so wonderful, I have these wistful thoughts occasionally.

I still want to stay as his partner. Even if this might sound greedy.

At least, let me give him my music.

Ren Jinguji: Why are you making such a sad face? Come on, lift your face, Princess. My future wife is not supposed to look so sad.

Haruka Nanami: What…?

Ren Jinguji: Ah, I guess I'm taking things a bit too far for now. But... one day... I'd like to live with you.

Ren Jinguji: I can't imagine a life without love or a future without you. I'll definitely make you happy, so please entrust your life to me...

Haruka Nanami: …Okay.

Ren Jinguji: Thank you, I love you, Lady!

Jinguji-san smiles happily and kisses me on my lips.

Ren Jinguji: The ballroom belongs to us tonight. Let's have fun and dance the night away.

Haruka Nanami: Yes…

And then we go hand in hand and dance to our hearts' content.

Sometimes we caress each other, whisper to each other, or hold each other close.

To spend a time like this together, alone, is the greatest treasure.

And the best birthday present of all.

Fin

[multi-level-shipper]

This shit was a fucking acid trip, like most of the game.

Anyway, something that poked my brain was the Infirmary. For all this game's insanity, there were actually some decent roots planted for worldbuilding/ character development.

It seems like the reason the cast ended up in Queen Bouncelia's domain is because they're treating the player as if they have 6 stars in GTA. Seline is no exception to this rule, and that seems to be her motivation for coming down to the lower floor, as she watched us leave in Chapter 3.

Toadster noted in his "Archives" that she was already hiding when brought in, and crying in her shell. She may have been antagonized by a bigger enemy- likely Kittysaurus or Tama/Chamataki (turtle chameleon thing), and she may have gone past the kingdom's walls for sanctuary. (That's just a loose theory, though.)

In any case, at some point she was frightened enough to shut down completely.

This could be some kind of anxiety attack, though there's no way to "diagnose" Seline at this point. Also interesting that Seline felt too afraid to even continue moving around on the lower floors. I think this is meant to speak to just how dangerous the lower floors are- if the giant ass snail is afraid, you should be, too.

Next, Jumbo Josh. Toadster categorizes him as a "Green Gorilla", which in hindsight, weirdly makes a lot of sense.

Firstly, an adult silverback gorilla can bench up to 4,000 lbs (or at least, that's what google told me.) Not that we needed an explanation of why he was able to throw Stinger Flynn, but I can only assume that if we adjusted that number for his size...it probably checks out.

Second, the fact that he walks like a chiropractor's worst nightmare. It took me a second, but I FINALLY realized that his posture is meant to IMITATE A GORILLA. Like, look at this:

DEFINITELY EXPLAINS WHY HE WALKS LIKE A HORSE IN GARRY'S MOD.

And thirdly, Josh's love for vegetables is also a gorilla trait. 85% of a gorilla's diet is leafy greens, with the remaining percentage basically amounting to termites and larvae.

Not too much to say about the Fucked Up Birds, but still! Nice to see them finally displaying a flamingo behavior (AKA their sleeping posture) because they seemed to lean more heavily on ostrich behaviors in previous chapters.

Toadster mentions in his archive for "The Teacher" that she keeps repeating the phrase "I can't be late" over and over to herself after being subdued.

He also notes that the bowling pins "calmed her down," which may not entirely be the case. In Chapter 3, in Banbaleena's "Classroom", each object had an assigned role like Cool Kid and Popular Kid. The bowling pins were meant to be the Bullies.

So Banbaleena is likely stuck in a prison of her own self-doubts right about now, which is doubly sad when considering her insistence in Chapter 3 that she was actually trying to be a good teacher. Either someone placed this idea in her head that she needs to strictly adhere to all these rules, or it's a stress she placed upon herself trying to fulfill her identity as a teacher.

Stinger Flynn gets better as the story progresses. He seems to have an ego to the point where he sees himself as a savior that can't see the faults in his own plans. His initial "safest procedures" plan seemed so obvious to him, but it seems as if he measures success by efficiency rather than the cost of human lives. While he's smart, he's not immune to being wrong, though he has yet to learn this.

He also seems to suffer from some form of depression, or at least intense sadness, and we see this as he talks to Banban in the latest hallucination sequence. Makes sense- his intelligence would make him much more privy to all the horrible things happening around him. It seems as if his high intelligence comes at a high price.

Last note- This might just be a case of recycling animations/rigs, but I think it's cute that Banban shares nearly the same emo pose as Banbaleena.

[th4tsj4zzy]

hoo boy im boutta get controversial

only 50 notes in and im starting to post stuff abt hsr controversy >:) this’ll be about the sparkle/ratio being racist controversy for the first + second part of hsr’s trailblaze mission for penacony

TW: slavery, slurs, racism, “death” (suicide..? 2.1 hsr quest makes this make sense) spoilers for penacony’s 2.1 quest below the cut

ofc, when sparkle was degrading aventurine for being sigonian, i reacted how a lot of people did and was like “cheese and rice, thats kinda racist dude, wtf-“ i was pretty worried bc hoyo’s had a history with not handling racism in plotlines well (see: eremite world quest in genshin) but i wanted to stay optimistic bc theres a different team working on hsr and maybe theyll be better at handling racism in plot. but honestly? after playing the second part of the penacony quest, i really think that they handled the entire thing pretty well.

probably 50% of penacony’s 2.1 quest was aventurine’s backstory, how being enslaved affected him, his family, and the culture of the avgins/sigonians (specifically the latter). his “all or nothing” nature clearly reflects the fact he’s used to betting everything (despite being paranoid about it since he quite literally lost everything before being taken in by the [pretty] ipc [woman, jade]) bc it makes him seem confident and gives him an image of carelessness, benefiting him in the long run of scheming. the only reason im able to draw this many conclusions about him is because of the amount of character development they give him in the quest.

ofc, im not trying to say that sparkle’s (and “ratio’s”) racist remarks were justified; to put it lightly, they’re leaning into a darker shade of morally grey, even without knowing their purposes for saying such stuff. however, i do think that them being racist to aventurine is a major part of the world building for HSR. him being on the receiving end of their criticism makes us suspicious of everyone else, but also makes us root for him a bit, which helps balance out the scales of distrust and/or dislike the viewer should have of all of the characters. in the beginning of the quest, aventurine’s probably receiving a lot more of the dislike/distrust than the other characters, so we need to at least find a reason to root for him if the writers want us to understand his schemes.

also, sparkle being racist to aventurine for being sigonian and him persisting through all of the hardships his plans and his past bring (despite 85% of it being for the ipc and the other 15% for the mere chance to see his family and find the truth, the latter mattering more than the former) is a narrative that brings tears to my eyes. it resonates with me as a minority race, and im sure many others can understand why.

sure, sparkle used a slur for the real life alternative for sigonia and ratio brings up his past as a slave. we all recognize its not right for her to do that and that the writers are pretty harsh for writing the slur in, but its just the same way in the real world. the writers are just showing us reality in a video game. death and murder and enslavement is really harsh that also reflect the real world, yet they also include it. are we really gonna act like saying a slur is above killing people?

[correctthroam]

I read THROAM for the first time in ~5 years. Here's what I have to say.

Volume I: There was so many characters I forgot about when going into the fic. Pete, Jac, Spencers family. I cant believe I forgot them. Pete will always be a fave because everyone hates him and it makes me laugh. The first volume was always my 2nd favorite, I think it still is. overall, the storyline isn't complicated and I like that. Ryan is such an asshole so I dont feel bad for him one bit in any of the fic. Also, I used to say that the bus crash was Brendons fault (I was 13, okay?) But Ryan was just an unstable motherfucker who truly should not be trusted to drive a vehicle of any kind.

Volume II: holy shit. I hate volume two. Not saying the writing is bad but Jesus Christ, Ryan is an asshole. bro literally stalked Brendon after he ran into him at that party like what? I had messaged a friend after finishing volume 2, saying "I'm a really nice person I never wanna make people feel sad, let alone make a whole fictional story about someone being severely depressed and unstable whilst chasing a boy then fucking his bf at the end???" and I think that perfectly sums up how I feel (and always felt) about volume two. other than the fact that I used to say that it was Brendons fault. (I was 13. THIRTEEN) it wasn't his fault. Some parts were, yeah, but it's hard to pinpoint everything that happened on one person. at the end of the day, its a good story I just Hate it (does that make sense) I love it but I hate it? it remains my least favorite purely for the pain it put me through.

Volume III: I love this volume. I always have. Sisky is amazing, we all love Sisky. I will say the iconic song/album references/jokes made me cringe a bit, though. Im not exactly sure what about this fic I always liked so much, I guess you can really see Ryans character growth and finally not be as much as a miserable fuck (he's still unstable dw) Since Ryan is less insufferable, it makes the volume more enjoyable. I like that Spencer and Ryan became friends again, I think it makes the book more enjoyable and tbh I think Spencer rly tied vol 3 together, if he wasn't part of it it would lowk suck. overall, best volume cant wait to host the throam tour where we go to hotel Chelsea then machias.

final thoughts: if I thought throam was 100% good when I was 13, Id say now that I think throam is about 85% good now. (does that make sense pt 2) this fic has sent me back into being 13 and I have been blasting some pretty. odd. (im listening to it rn as im typing this) and listening to this album just makes my life feel more simple. still a solid fic, I think it would be an amazing published book. and I think we can all agree that it would be amazing to see THROAM movies (in our dreams)

Thanks for reading lol

[zalrb]

PLL 3x13 Review - As Per Anon Request (AND I'M PISSED)

Oh look, the Toby reveal I didn't see. Lol.

IT'S HALLOWEEN. THIS IS THE EPISODE, RIGHT? THIS IS THE EPISODE ARIA FINALLY GETS HURT?

And it STARTS with Mona? SINGING TEDDYBEAR PICNIC? The song and the movie that gave me NIGHTMARES as a child??

Oh, I'm seated. I'm ready.

I just feel like, I just FEEL like, they keep trying to make her Harley Quinn

Emily literally stabbed someone and she isn't going through intense therapy right now?

"Now that he got out, we have to go under the radar." Hanna, literally, WHY. No one cares about your relationship.

I just don't have the time

They are going for hip elegance with Spencer but it just looks like she should be milking cows somewhere or being rich and repressed in Downton Abbey like 85% of the time

and I actually don't mind this outfit.

"What did he want?" wouldn't you already know, Toby, since you're Gossip Girl, I mean, a part of Team A.

VILLAIN FACE

which is just the Ian Smolder, honestly

For the love of god, he was just shot

and if you're going to have secret closet makeouts at least be Peter and Gwen

because that boy altered her brain chemistry

Liz and Max in the Eraser Room?

Like, if this is some, I was just shot, show me why I'm glad to be alive type of making out, it should be like this.

I don't know, man, Caleb always sounds annoyed with her even when he isn't meant to be.

"Everything that's happened and we're still in the same place." WHAT PLACE. WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

Where does Aria live.

"I can't go." You shouldn't be at a high school Halloween party at all, Ezra.

Hanna as Marilyn works, I just love how cheap that dress looks.

Of course Aria is Daisy. Jesus, her and Lucas - this is OTH Lucas.

And Aria is not Elena?

JENNA IS WEARING AN EYE PATCH AND NO ONE IS GOING TO TOUCH THAT? IS THIS PLL OR NOT?

If Spencer is supposed to be Lauren Bacall with the "you know how to whistle don't you?" she should be dressed like this

This is the best Toby has ever and will ever look

Hair is James Dean. I have to say, it works. Hair's got the hair.

How long do I have to watch Adam Lambert sing.

Obviously Phantom is Caleb.

"But you know I liked you a lot better like this"

THERE IT IS. THERE'S THE BLIND JOKE.

Oooh is Aria going to get pushed off the train? I think she should get pushed off the train.

Hair also shouldn't be at a teenager party.

WE GET IT. IT'S ADAM LAMBERT. I DON'T CARE.

Who is this ghost child with Spencer's clothes.

I'm probably a bad person but if a child is looking at me like this

she can't stay in my house, she can wait for her mom on the porch or something. I'll call a neighbour, they can deal with it.

If you take off the mask then what's the point. I love how this kiss SHOULD be dramatic

They've got the aesthetics right. But it's Haleb and they're just too unexceptional for me to care. You need a ship that you can get invested in, that has real stakes and real chemistry or a real narrative for a windswept train kiss.

I'm sorry, who is putting on this party again? To do all of this? Because this train is like the fucking Hogwarts Express.

I totally forgot about Emily. She hadn't been onscreen for like ten minutes.

Troian looks really pretty though.

This Jenna and Alison "fight" is laughable. Why even bother

what are we doing

You know what I changed my mind. Alison basically touched Jenna and she flew backward right next to the field hockey stick. This is soap opera territory. This is Passions. This is art.

"I didn't kill Alison but Jenna thinks that I did." "That's IT?" Lol Spencer.

"I'm going to go get Aria and you're going to say this to her face, you understand?" And I can't take you to Aria which would make more sense because that would make the plot harder to plot.

Lol this is how I feel rooting for Aria to FINALLY be endangered

but seriously, THROW HER OFF THE TRAIN. She'll survive. It's PLL.

If all she is is tied up and scared I'ma be mad.

Not Caleb.

Mona?? Tell me that was Mona. Because if that was Mona, they should've just made her obsessively in love with Hanna. Because she already is.

Nah nah nah nah this cannot stand. All I'm seeing is Aria in a box and Spencer is being choked and manhandled for the fifty-leventh time.

THIS is her trauma? A DEAD GARRET?

Anons told me she would finally be inducted into the maimed and nearly-murdered club of her peers. They promised me blood. Where is the blood? Where is iittttttttttttttttt.

"I'm looking for Aria. Have you seen her?" "No, but she has a thing for authority figures." Jesus Christ, Jenna. This is why everyone is on your neck about your sight.

Yes, I laughed.

OF COURSE SHE GOT SAVED. Anons, you lied to me. I have never been so disappointed during my viewing of this show.

I'm supposed to care that she saw a dead Garrett when Garrett was the one who died????? And Spencer was choked out AGAIN. And Caleb was SHOT. And Emily was SUFFOCATED. and Hanna was RUN OVER BY A CAR. And Toby fell off the scaffolding. CALEB'S MOTHER GETS INTO A CAR CRASH. Oh, she pisses me off.

You, anons, liiiiiiieeeeeed to me.

I can't even care about the rest of it because I'm so irritated that Aria sustained NO injuries after THREE FUCKING SEASONS.

and here Aria go holding her wrist?

I am so tired of her ass.

Oh fuck OFF.

I am so done.

And this dumbass Christmas and Toby not-fight.

And there was minimal Mona. Ugh.

[im-out-of-it]

part 5 of season 2, episode 17 continued “a dark reflection” I’ll try to go easy on Alec this time

incoming rant about jace again I CANT HELP IT HES THE WORST the fact that I tolerate jonathon and Sebastian more than jace says everything about his character lmao

77. HOW CUTE

78. my favorite thing for when I read and watch shows/movies with a couple is to see them be domestic. I think it’s the sweetest small stuff that matters the most at times

79. I’m sorry I had to. Alec:

80. Magnus is me. my favorite seafood is crab legs and if I was Magnus rich, I would go all out (can’t believe we missed out on Magnus feeding Alec, just found about this thank you 🥺🥹)

81. Alec has come so far

82. I love them here and I honestly think this might be Magnus’s best look tying with episode 4 of season 1

83. Maia and Luke scenes 🥰

84. Luke: good luck, you’ll need it

85. Simons like no I’m good 😊

86. Simon: let’s go on a date

86. can we just please and at least appreciate simons effort? he doesn’t know about Jordan and neither do first time watchers or readers but 1. Maia doesn’t want to be hurt badly like she was in the past and 2. which I don’t see mentioned is that she tried dating Simon and saw that he was interested in clary. so yes she is holding off because of her piece of shit ex boyfriend but Simon and clary JUST broke up so she could be hesitant of that. maybe the writers didn’t think that far but if I tried dating someone and they were having feelings for someone else, then they didn’t work out, and then a few days later were asking me out, I would feel pretty hesitant

OKAY BUT LOOK HOW HAPPY THEY ARE (anyone love Simon and Maia together??????)

87. Maia: let’s be friends instead I don’t want to get hurt

88. she is always so beautiful!!!!! 😌

89. I spoke too soon. Maia said it’s not clary. should have hired me to be the head writer I HAVE GRAND IDEAS

90. how did a regular shadowhunter have the almost mortal mirror PLUS the mortal cup???? they all said Jocelyn was the best but I’m sorry, how could she get away with that when Izzy practically gets threatened with being deruned for a cup she didn’t have. how did the clave not find Jocelyn or know she had the cup???? it’s like they wanted Jocelyn to be this super powerful figure but I don’t see it

91. Jonathon did his best and that’s all you can ask for

92. Clary: I guess my mom is super powerful and untouchable?????

93. so now clary remembers that jonathon is a flower killer but conveniently forgot when jace was thought to be her brother? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE

94. “you’ll kill him?” “if that’s what it takes” jace slow your roll already

95. “I know what it’s like to be manipulated by valentine and jonathon is a demon blooded monster”-jace. this dude gives me a migraine. because it was okay when he was thought to be jonathon but now it’s an issue when the real jonathon stands up? I’m sorry but does anyone else see his hypocrisy here???? not excusing jonathon and who he is but why is it that everyone was fine with jace being “demonic” but it’s the opposite for the actual jonathon????? literally jace can commit mass murder and be fine and everyone would excuse his actions

96. “remember what Valentine made you do” “I don’t have demon blood” BUT YOU FUCKING THOUGHT YOU DID. YOU STILL HELPED MASSACRE DOWNWORLDERS BUT THATS ALRIGHT ISNT IT?????? it aggravates me how he never faces any punishment

97. clary: keep your hands off my brother until he kills you then he will be dead to me because you’re the only thing I care about that’s just how I work

why couldn’t she remember this detail when they all thought jace could destroy the soul sword????

98. forgot to add this

99. it is kind of funny how clary is all save jonathon for a second and then once he lays hands on jace, she’s like ewwww omg demon demon demon

okay but let’s just compare jonathon and jace. they both aid valentine and easily fall for his games

jonathon doesn’t help murder hundreds of downworlders but jonathon is still a murderer and he accepts everything he is. he still takes on revenge later when he fully comes back

they both come back from the dead while jonathon feels betrayed by clary and wants revenge and jace takes advantage of Magnus’s kindness and tries to die as if Magnus didn’t just sacrifice everything

while jace acts like he’s better than everyone and hardly has remorse for helping valentine kill hundreds of downworlders and uses excuses like I was manipulated

Jonathan has feelings for clary knowing that’s his sister

Jace doesn’t try to get rid of his feelings for clary while thinking that’s his sister

Jace doesn’t appreciate Alec Izzy Magnus etc while jonathon uses everyone

they both have anger issues and retaliate with violence. Jace cutting off hodge’s hand and jonathon killing people he no longer has use for

I’m only saying they have a lot of similarities and in the books (and a little on the show) jace is extremely abusive to clary. it’s always what jace needs in the books. their whole relationship is toxic. so as much as I see jonathon being evil in the show, jace is not a good person either. he just acts like he is

I can’t believe how much this is making me defend Jonathan lmao but it doesn’t make sense to why jace gets away with everything while everyone else has to pay the price. I need Advil now thanks to this 😭 I’ll attempt a part 6 but it may have to wait a few more hours

[indiana-jonas]

The two invisible steps before you make something

When I made comic strips in the past I would often jump straight into drawing the first panel. I’d just wing it and then improvise each following panel. Sometimes it worked out.

An improvised strip from my old series “Us with plants on our heads.”

But often it just turned into nonsensical crap.

I don’t get this one myself.

I often started drawing a strip and gave up cause I didn’t know what to do.

I thought I was supposed to be able to fart out great comics with ease. But I squeezed and squeezed. I was too eager. Without being aware of it, I tried to do 3 steps all at once. To continue this (f)art metaphor - before anything comes out of you, you’ve gotta 1. find something you want to eat, 2. digest it, 3. let it come out. The problem was that I hadn’t eaten or digested anything.

To put it in a more dignified way.

The first step is to search,

the second is to make sense of,

the third is to make it.

I used to skip the first two steps, I wanted to get straight into making shit. But that often turned into nonsensical crap, or I would run into a wall and give up.

The third step (to make it) is the most obvious one. Despite it being the most obvious step, I got completely stuck on it because I hadn’t gone through the first two.

If you are reading this, it’s likely you already know how to make something. I think these first two steps are identical no matter what medium you are creating in. So I will take the liberty of not going into detail about how to make something.

Instead of trying to think of products first, what any creative person should try to do is think, search and wonder. Think about real things, notice what makes you feel stuff - what is close to your heart if everything else is stripped away? Ideally projects will emerge from the collection of the thoughts you have collected, or at least be designed/conceived in a way that can package your thoughts as nicely as possible.

Search

There’s nothing quite as uninspiring as a blank canvas. 85% of the time a blank canvas only makes me feel dread or boredom. If you come up with a great idea while looking at a canvas it’s not because you looked at a canvas, it’s despite looking at it. Whatever great ideas I have managed to conjure while looking at that white rectangle has always come from something else - an inspiring movie scene, something from my day, a lingering thought, or a line from a song.

Now I’ve abandoned blank canvases, I never start from one. Neither when I write or draw.

Instead, I live in search of noteworthy thoughts. Regardless of whether you know what a thought will be useful for, jot them down somewhere.

To search is just to live life with a keen eye, ear and heart and to make sure you don’t forget.

When I stare at a blank canvas The Search becomes stressful and I want to avoid it. But in reality, if I admit that The Search is part of the process, it becomes the most peaceful and interesting step of them all. It’s just living with a secret mission - to be human and to find out what’s special about that to you.

And of course you need to make sure you don’t forget those thoughts for the next step.

Make sense of

Now that you’ve been out in the world and discovered stuff, it’s time to sit down somewhere, sift through and examine your haul. You might be overwhelmed by how much is in there. You’ll never be able to use everything. So you just gotta use your intuition. See what stands out, group things, talk with someone - do ANYTHING you want with it until you find what’s hiding there.

Your notes are a collection of countless puzzles. Some puzzles are hundreds of pieces big, others are just one or three. Some pieces fit into more than one puzzle. You don’t know. Often you’ll have to find a few pieces in your head to complete a puzzle, while other pieces might still be hidden out there in the world.

The way to make sense of a puzzle is to try to put it together, or to be literal; try to explain it as clearly as you can. Ask yourself, “how can I prove to someone else that this is true?” And ideally not just make them understand it, but also feel it. That’s the puzzle you gotta solve.

Let me give you an example.

I found myself frustrated that we live life too much through screens and I want to make a Space Deer comic strip. That’s the idea I want to make sense of and the filter that I will examine my idea through.

First I will ask myself, “ok, why is that idea true?”- I think life needs balance, you shouldn’t stare too much of it away through a pixelated representation of it. Then I ask myself, “how should we live then?”- We should go outside and get our boots in the mud more, what we will really remember is probably gonna happen out there. And then I try to think of a situation where I can show as clearly as possible that this is right. I’m afraid this message might be tired or preachy, especially if I would aim the message directly at someone like us (you know, someone who’s currently looking at a screen). Luckily the imagery of my comic gives me other symbols to play with.

So I thought of how I could show that in four comic panels and wrote down this.

Space Deer walks on a desolate planet. They encounter a mars rover. They scream “get out here and live!!” NASA people see Space Deer through their screens.

It’s simple, but it gets the idea across. Normally I would like to make it clear that Space Deer is really out there and living freely, to show what these researches are missing out on. But in the comic we will see Space Deer explore and go on all kinds of adventures, so that’s something I didn’t feel like I needed to put more emphasis on. I trust the reader to make that connection themself.

Sometimes making sense of an idea can be much harder, in this example the idea was an entire puzzle on its own, or maybe I had the remaining pieces in my head already. Sometimes all you need is just one piece in front of you to know where to look for the rest.

Make it

And then of course the last step is to just make it. (Step 4 is to share it. Step 5 is to repeat it.)

I have made decent comic strips despite jumping straight into drawing, or so I’ve thought. Thinking back on it, I just managed to search and make sense of an idea as I was drawing. I didn’t magically skip two steps, that’s impossible. I was just not aware of what I was doing.

Now that I know the steps, I’m much better at understanding why I tend to get stuck in different parts of the process.

In reality these steps are not always as clear cut. They will blend into each other, you might do some back and forth, making sense of and making something is a fuzzy line. This is not so much a step-by-step process as it is a journey you have to go through. It has definitely helped me to be more methodical and intentional about it though. I’ve set myself up in a way where it’s fun for me to get each step done. I might go into that in the future.

If you only take one thing with you from this - I hope it’s that you will be aware of and feel more at peace with the first two steps.

--------

If you found this interesting then you might enjoy these blog posts too.

When you don't know what to draw

I will never find my art style

Lazy imagination isn't bad

Thank you for reading my thoughts!

[recurring-polynya]

@fluffnflightillustrations is always asking me for pie crust tips and I never know what to do say because I just..do it. I am there and the food processor is there, and then it is pie crust. Anyway, I was making a pie today and I decided to document the process for posterity.

This recipe is based on J. Kenji Lopez-Alt's food processor piecrust recipe. (he was the same guy who invented the vodka pie crust method but doesn't own the copyright to it, so he can't ever talk about it. Anyway, this one is fine). I've made it a couple of times a year for, I don't know, over a decade.

Here are some facts about pie crust to keep in mind:

Flakiness is caused by pockets of butter surrounded by flour. That's the goal here.

Every pie crust recipe in existence includes dire warnings about how it will turn into particle board if you put in too much water. In one sense, yes, the goal is to use as little water as possible. On the other hand, if you're having trouble getting it to come together, just add some damn water. Every homemade pie crust I have ever made was a million times better than a store-bought pie crust, even if I did add 2T.

If your pie crust comes out bad or you don't notice a difference between store bought and homemade, there is no shame in store bought pie crusts! Life is about figuring out what is worth it to do from scratch and what isn't and that varies from person to person.

I am not a baking expert, I am just a girl who tries stuff s

HERE'S MY METHOD:

Ingredients:

2 1/2 cups (12.5 ounces; 350 grams) all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons (25 grams) sugar

1 teaspoon (5 grams) kosher salt

2 1/2 sticks (10 ounces; 280 grams) unsalted butter (kept in fridge), cut into 1/4-inch pats

6 tablespoons (3 ounces; 85 milliliters) cold water

tl; dr version: 1. Combine two thirds of flour with sugar and salt in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse twice to incorporate. Spread butter chunks evenly over surface. Pulse until no dry flour remains and dough just begins to collect in clumps, about 25 short pulses. Use a rubber spatula to spread the dough evenly around the bowl of the food processor. Sprinkle with remaining flour and pulse until dough is just barely broken up, about 5 short pulses. Transfer dough to a large bowl. 2. Sprinkle with water then using a rubber spatula, fold and press dough until it comes together into a ball. Divide ball in half. Form each half into a 4-inch disk. Wrap tightly in plastic and refrigerate for at least 2 hours before rolling and baking.

✨Verbose Version✨:

Getting Ready to Get Ready The first thing I do is measure out the water in a glass measuring cup and stick it in the freezer.

Next, I cut my butter my butter into pats and spread them out on a plate and stick those in the freezer, too.\

You're just trying to get everything cold, not freeze it. This should probably take about 10 minutes? I take this opportunity to clean up my work area and get out my food processor.

Okay, Let's Do It Here's my food processor. It is big and beautiful and I got it for free because a friend of mine who liked to buy himself things moved across the country and didn't want to take it. I think fondly of him whenever I use it.

Combine two thirds of flour (I did 9.5 oz) with sugar and salt in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse a few times to mix it all up. Did I mention that I always bake by weight? You should always bake by weight.

Spread butter chunks evenly over surface, and pulse. I do this in a 3-4 rounds because I want the butter to get evenly covered in flour and not stick to other butter chunks. I toss a few in, pulse a few times, toss a few more, until they're all in there.

At this point, the recipe says "Pulse until no dry flour remains and dough just begins to collect in clumps, about 25 short pulses." First off, it takes a lot more than 25 for me. Second, it never really begins to collect in clumps, it just gets kinda sandy. It doesn't matter, just move on.

Use a rubber spatula to spread the dough evenly around the bowl of the food processor. Sprinkle with remaining flour and pulse until dough is just barely broken up, about 5 short pulses. Transfer dough to a large bowl.

Sprinkle with water then using a rubber spatula, fold and press dough until it comes together into a ball. I drip in some water, fold and press for a bit, drip in some more, fold and press again, etc. At first, I try to use the spatula (and not my hands) as much as possible. Towards the end I switch over to using your hands. It takes a while to start sticking together, but it will! Just keep pushing on it!

According to Kenji, you should not need to add any more water. I almost always need to add more water. You can put additional water in the freezer, if you want, but I just use room-temp. Today, it took 1 extra T. To be honest, I probably didn't need to, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Divide ball into two. If I am making a double pie crust, I split them unevenly, because the bottom crust needs to be bigger than the top. Today, I'm making a pecan pie, which just needs a single crust, so I'm dividing it into half and saving one of the halves for later.

Form it into a rough circle and flatten. I wrap it loosely in plastic, and then roll it on the edge like a wheel, and flatten it further so I get a nice disk.

Refrigerate at least 2 hrs and up to 3 days. (or you can freeze for up to 3 months) That's the end of part one, part two will continue after the chilling.

[luinhealthcare]

Hello lovely Lofty❤️

What would you say is the pros and cons of EMS work?? Or like, things you would say to someone looking to be an EMT?

I have a full time job I don't plan on leaving, but tbh learning about what you do and reading your stories has kind of put it on my heart and I was curious if volunteer EMT jobs are a thing. Like, getting all the training done and then volunteering when I can?

Idk, I was just curious if you had anything to say regarding this😅

I could probably google some of this info but if if you feel like answering it would be appreciated! I value your opinion❤️

Ok, give me just a sec—*SQUEALS excitedly into pillow*

Hello Anon! :D That’s so exciting to hear!! I’m glad you’d rather just do it volunteer, as career EMS pays very little (my nursing job is what keeps a roof over my head, not my EMS one lol), but nearly every agency in my area has volunteers so I imagine it’s the same for your area!

So general pros and cons for EMS:

Pros

Tight knit work crew - These people see some bad things together, and trauma bonding is a thing, so they tend to be pretty close and have a lot of fun together. A note of care, we all have dark senses of humor. It’s a natural coping mechanism for people, and it can make life really funny too. But generally, working with EMS providers is quite fun! There will probably also be things like banquets, cookouts, and other fun bonding activities!

Boo boo bus - Driving is one of my least favorite parts of the job, but it is very fun to drive the truck around with lights and sirens and have the power to stop traffic and go through a red light lol. Super dangerous, but very fun

Knowledge - You learn so much in EMS! Medicine and our understanding of diseases and injuries is constantly changing, so you’ll always learn something new if you keep up with your training. Speaking of which, your agency will provide training opportunities to help you grow!

Patient care - You’ll find that the majority of your calls aren’t actually emergencies, but when you can actually take care of someone who needs you, you’re gonna ride that adrenaline high for ages. I still remember calls from years ago where I actually made a difference in someone’s life, and it’s a thrilling feeling.

Shift style - We work in 12-24 hour blocks, which means you knock out your work week in 2-3 days. As a volunteer your hour requirement would be much less than 36, but you could knock out a 24 hour monthly requirement in a single day if you wanted. Also, depending on a few factors (day vs night shift, busyness of your run area), you could literally just be spending your time chilling between calls. Sometimes I bring video games to work and play the switch because we have so much downtime. At night we get paid to just sleep if nobody’s calling 911.

Cons

Management/staffing - Like most jobs, somehow we’re all cursed with idiots in charge. Obviously this is variable, but a general trend in EMS is to overwork its people and toss them out to sea before they sometimes feel ready. And also like most jobs, we’re perpetually short staffed and everyone gets stretched thin to make up for it. Luckily for you, this shouldn’t be as big a problem because volunteers are usually treated very well!

Patient care - It’s a pro but it’s a con too. 85% of your calls are going to be for things that people should have never called 911 for. Your big pretty Boo Boo Bus is mostly going to be an Uber. And it will get frustrating, and you will have frequent flyers, and some people are not kind at all. They’ll call for your help and then get pissed off at you for trying to help. Anyone who’s worked customer service can relate, I’m sure. You get trained to handle life and death emergencies and then instead you’re picking someone up for a cough they’ve had for three days and you’re wondering when you became their mother/father and have to take the baby to the doctor when they haven’t tried anything to take care of themselves at home or see a less urgent health facility. It will burn you out if you’re not careful.

TMI - Speaking of patient care, get ready to see people at their absolute lowest. Hoarder houses, maggots, abusive households, all that jazz. Another reason for trauma bonding with your coworkers! 👍🏻 (This won’t be the majority of your calls, but you’ll see them)

Physical strain - If you don’t take care of your body, this job will hurt you. I’ve thrown my back three times working EMS; there were times where I was hobbling around like an 83-year-old and I was 22. You’ll be lifting patients of every weight, you’re gonna be contorted in weird positions trying to splint someone, CPR is a cardio exercise in itself (lol), you will probably be sore after some calls like you just went to the gym. Also, we don’t take meal breaks - you eat when you can, and you will become a speed eater very quickly in this line of work.

Mental strain - You’re gonna learn a lot about yourself and others in this work. How do you cope with stress? You will watch people die, you will see suicides and shootings and stabbings, you will watch family hurt each other and grieve over lost loved ones. You will be on edge for the majority of your shift as you wait for the tones to drop, you will be stressed trying to find an address or navigate the road and make sure nobody gets into a wreck with you. Military and first responders are so alike because the stress level and distribution is quite similar - downtime with boredom gets interspersed with spikes of huge adrenaline rushes. Have good coping skills, have a strong support system, take care of yourself. 95% of the people I know on duty are in therapy to stay sane.

Overall, I adore EMS. If I could survive off EMS pay I’d work it full time and do nursing as a side gig for funsies lol. The majority of the work is fairly mundane, but when you get to make a difference boy do you get to make a difference. And you’ll have so many funny stories to share. And the people are awesome.

Hope this helps! :D

[detectiveseapancake]

Hundred Line Log 3

Hundred Line rants under the cut, beware spoilers and content warnings! Roughly Day 75 onward.

Day 7...?

That worm commander was both fun and completely fucked up. I have no idea how to feel about Ima. I mean, this shit is hilarious. But also, please go back to normal. I want him to go back to normal so bad lmao. But it's also so funny.

Day 85

The glasses... and the choker... I'm sad. She was a handful, but I really liked her.

Ima's been awfully quiet, I wonder what he's thinking about. He's a smart guy, I'd love to hear his thoughts on this. But I guess we'll wait until he's figured it out more/is in a good position to talk.

Day 86

Alright, seeing time go in reverse is what I was thinking was happening. Some things would make a lot more sense if one of the commanders had that ability.

I'm in the middle of battle and Nigou started babbling. Good to know I was right about the TRC :)

Hmm, though if Nozomi doesn't remember there being an attack and Takumi does remember there being one, I don't know if that's necessarily all there is to it...

...are these kids really thinking that they just recently evacuated into space? My fucking god.

Day 87

Very interesting reactions my sweetheart is showing here!

Day 92

They really just wanna give the fuck up. I'm torn, I'm not sure either what's the right choice here, but that's also because these kids refuse to fucking discuss things to the end and investigate although there's conflicting and missing information. And Eito was the one leading this whole fucking discussion. I knew it.

Day 93

I'm so fucking glad we have the twins and are finally gonna have this talk. Please let this be it. Please let this go somewhere.

This doesn't surprise me one bit.

Well hello there, asshole.

Being this far into the game, I really think it's him. But I also think his care for us isn't entirely fake. At least he does like Takumi a lot.

Wow this is all going to shit and it's making me sad and angry.

That thing being a trap doesn't surprise me in the slightest, thank you very much! I figured this was going to happen. I'm so fucking sad about Nozomi/Karua. I don't fucking know anymore at this point. Should have seen that coming but I was hoping it wouldn't. But oh well.

GO OFF QUEEN!!

......... yeah lets fucking open the door. Great idea.

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! I am very happy everytime he shows up. Finally we can talk to him!

I love hole 👍

I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG FROM DAY 9!!!!!! FROM DAY 9 I KNEW IT!!! I HAD NO SOLID PROOF BUT I FUCKING KNEW IT WAS HIM!!!!

HAHAHA THIS IS ALL SO FUNNY HAHAHA

Honestly this is why you don't put unstable teenagers in a position where the fate of humanity depends on them but ok.

Looking at all of this makes it even funnier that I said "I think he likes Takumi a lot." I still think he does in a sense but he's just completely mindfucked. Obviously what he's been doing is fucked up and crazy but I've just been laughing a lot because he's so... I don't know. They made him so edgy. So freaky on purpose. Takumi saved his life and was nice to him and he really went "you're a freak! you're disgusting!" and "that's when I realised you're my archnemesis!" He's just so weirdly funny as a character.

His whole disorder being this big reason for why he's evil is... a whole other thing to talk about. I mean we've had this before in games directed by Kodaka and by Uchikoshi. But combined with some of the ableist terms the characters are spouting I just still hate this. I don't think it's gonna ruin my enjoyment of Eito but still. I'm also thinking of how badly they did Fukawa Touko back in dr1 and drae, but she still ended up being one of my fave characters in the whole series despite how badly they fucked up her disorder that I also have.

Day 98

Yeah, I figured this was gonna happen...

Time travel, huh. I was wondering if that's how it's going to be and when that commander showed up who could rewind time I thought that even more. I guess Takumi always had the rewind skill but jesus fuck I did not expect the evolution thing. ...it feels silly though? I guess it makes sense with him already having a rewind ability, but still. I mean how does the guy's cryptoglobin make your skills evolve?? Man.

I hope the decisions we're going to be allowed to make are going to be interesting. There's so much we found out on this first run and so much we did not find out at all. I hope we'll get to know the characters better, too. It's absolutely fucking crazy to me that the first 100 days are basically like a prologue compared to what the fuck is gonna go down from here on. It's just so funny.

I also just can't wait to find out what the fuck the others saw when they reached the satelite.

Those were some crazy 100 days! I've been having a lot of fun! I'm so excited for things to get even better. I'll see if I'll continue to rant consistently as I play this or not, but I might post sporadically if something really fucked goes down.

[gifsbysimplysonia]

Sonia’s Trying to Hold Herself Accountable to Just Write SOMETHING Once A Day challenge - Day 15

I have to remember that WRITING SOMETHING every day doesn't have to necessarily be creative writing. I am born of LiveJOURNAL after all :) So today's entry is just a journal entry cuz I'm feeling quite frantic and am hoping this might help me calm the hell down.

I got laid off 6 months ago, I'm almost positive TO THE DAY which was wild to realize. Reduction in force. Never had that happen. It was 5 weeks shy of my 8 year work anniversary. To say I was shooketh would STILL be an understatement and it has been a devastating 6 months ever since.

Because I was employed for at least the last 11 years. On top of that, my last application and interview would have been in September/October of 2016. To say that the job market is different would be a WILD UNDERSTATEMENT. I have been on LinkedIn, Indeed, Dice, and so many other sites, sending in my resume for the last 6 months and other than a handful of rejections and a BUTTLOAD of scam emails AND text messages (why are these things now???) offering me jobs I never applied for and I'm sure don't exist ... I have heard NOTHING back from anyone.

And it's not like I've been applying for jobs I'm wildly unqualified for. I've applied for Data Entry and admin jobs. And yet, I either don't hear anything at all (85% of the time) or I get generic probably AI generated rejections (15% of the time). And to tell y'all that my confidence and self esteem torpedoed into Hell? Again. Understatement. I'm on social media telling strangers who express the same feelings, "PLEASE REMEMBER YOUR WORTH IS NOT DETERMINED BY THIS PROCESS!!" Yet I couldn't internalize that for myself.

Then suddenly, last week, I had 3 different ACTUAL HUMAN BEINGS reach out to me about jobs. First on Indeed.com, someone local reached out to me about a local in office job. Second, I got an email invite from someone from a major company saying they wanted to talk to me on a 20 minute call about a job. Then as I was sitting at my laptop one day, I got a phone call from an area code I recognized as Pennsylvania cuz my first boyfriend was from that state lol so I picked it up ... and it was someone who'd seen my resume on one of the sites I put it up on (I didn't think that ever happened) asking about another potentially local job but unfortunately the commute would be 2 hours a day and just not work for me in that respect.

I can't figure out why I suddenly got a flurry of activity all at once? My brain, wanting to put it into black and white so I could try to make sense of it, wanted to say it MUST have something to do with maybe hiring freezes til the end of Q1? And I have no clue if that might be it or not. I just hope that the trend continues and I get more responses from actual real humans (not scammers)? Please.

I also had NO IDEA just how badly I was in the dumps until I got the first of these reach outs, which was a man from a local company. We had a phone interview first and we talked for about 40 minutes and even though I'm SURE I said too much and wrong things, he had extended an invite for me to go into the office this week. Unfortunately with the pay rate and potential hours he had to offer, it wouldn't make financial sense for me right now which sucks cuz the duties he described sounded RIGHT up my alley, the office only has 5 people in it, he would have no problem with me wearing my mask, not customer facing and it's only about 15 minutes from my residence. The money just isn't there. And I KNOW that a job is a job and in this united states we live in right now, I should probably just settle. But the pay is so far below what I was making at my last position and not even guaranteed full time that ... it just doesn't make sense.

But today I had my 2nd phone interview with the big company that extended me an invite. It was a Teams calls so I thought I'd have to be on camera. I went and got an emergency haircut and my hair re-purpled on Tuesday lol to be sure I didn't look like Hell only for her to tell me my camera didn't need to be on AND us having to switch to phone cuz I kept cutting out. Again, though, she liked what I had to say enough to pass me onto the NEXT interview (I've read stories of people having to go through FIVE ROUNDS of interviews for positions only to get ghosted?!?!), but the next interview is AN HOUR LONG.

.......what on Earth would I talk to anyone about IN A WORK ENVIRONMENT for 60 full minutes? I reached out to someone I trust (the only good manager I had at my last position and he wasn't even ever officially my manager) to ask for advice and he said be myself and answer honestly and if they ask me those questions that go "Tell me about a time..." and I don't have an actual example? LIE because they are trying to get to a certain quality so I need to figure out what that quality is and answer to show that I have it.

But guys, I'm SUCH a nervous Nellie and I just don't think I should or would EVER "be myself" around strangers for 60 minutes lol strangers don't deserve that but also? I'm a lot. I'm too much. I'm a mess and I just ... I don't know what to do lol

I've accepted the invite and it's set for 12:30pm CST next Wednesday but OMG I am shaking in my boots. Cuz I just ... for 6 months I've been made to feel unqualified and unworthy. Then suddenly, some people FINALLY saw something in words about me that prompted them to reach out to me cuz they think I have SOMETHING that might work out. And that's been a balm to my soul.

The possible new position would be brand new work for me, which I'm up for cuz not only do I think I need a challenge at this stage in my life ... it's an opportunity to REALLY HELP people with important stuff. And my heart and soul have been SCREAMING to please try and ideally find work that means something to a greater collective. I didn't think I'd ever find that but it's possible this position is. And it's fully remote so Halleloo. It's just that once again, the pay isn't quite there. Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, is the pay ever going to be there? I'm guessing no and with the state of things where I live ... while the ideal is NOT to settle, I'm afraid I just should. People I talked to today have said, "If you find out you don't like it, it's not permanent, you don't have to stick with it if it turns out to not be for you." Which is funny because that never occurred to me because I'm the type of person that once I make a commitment, even if I'm miserable? I don't think about leaving cuz I committed. And how foul would it be to sign onto something, make the company think they found someone, then a few days in be like SORRY PEACE! and leave?

Sigh. Idk. If anyone has any advice or anecdotes they want to offer, please feel free. I'm open to advice, words of wisdom, or just well wishes lol

If by some miracle you read through all of this: