#this whole issue so far is just like that 'this house is a fucking nightmare' vine to me.

[vulpinesaint]

all kids these days want to do is be a cat and not answer the phone when spider-man calls

[thatblondeperson]

Car Trouble Nightmare, Help Needed!

More details of one of the worst days I've had in a long time that will not end, under the cut. I really do need help, I feel like I'm going to cry.

On Wednesday 7/3 I went to San Jose for a friend's going away party. Party had been canceled and I was not informed, which honestly is whatever at this point. I went in to the bar anyway, had a glass of wine that someone bought for me out of pity, made new friends, sand some karaoke and started to drive home. There was a 5 car pile up on the highway that had people dead stopped, and after sitting in that for far too long, people were detouring and I followed. Got very lost. Started trying to follow signs that said "north". Finally got back on track and my car started overheating like crazy. Took the next exit and parked. Car was smoking. At this point, the sun was rising and I was exhausted. The lady who's house I was in front of let me charge my phone and she brought me ice water. I called AAA to row my car but our plan only covers 5 miles of free towing. It would be $1000 at least. Called my mom crying. She came to rescue me. While waiting a guy tried to offer help and then got weird about how cute my small feet were. Finally mom got there and we decided to tow to the nearest AAA repair place. Car would be stranded in San Leandro which is an hour and a half from home. But it got worse.

We got on the road. Stopped at taco bell so I could get some food in my system. Was okay for a bit but the sleep and food deprivation kicked in and my body started shutting down bit by bit. Heartburn came, headache, mood swings, and nausea. Mom also wasn't listening to me with the map and took a detour that she said she knew, then blamed the detour on me when it didn't work out and wouldn't drop it. Basically heckled me about it. Treated me like I was being a baby the whole way home while I was in pain, and only realized I was serious when I started having an autistic meltdown and the tics kicked in. Made it almost home in this awful state before I had to stop at Lowe's hardware store because I felt so sick. IBS had kicked in, and when I came back to the car, the taco bell promptly exited my body via throwing up profusely. It was enough to get me home but I still felt awful. Tried to clean off in the shower a bit which helped somewhat and then tried to lay down, but my body felt so uncomfortable. I was still habing an autistic sensory meltdown, but then I suddenly got really bad, and it felt like my blood was boiling and my hands were going numb. Called 911, paramedics cane and made sure I was okay, and thankfully it was just a wicked panic attack, but it took me like 36 hours to recover from that shit. Stayed at my mom's for a bit, and then on Saturday we went back to San Leandro, because I had jumped onto my dad's plan since he had 200 miles of free towing.

Soooooooo...AAAs policy is that the point of roadside assist is that they need to tow it to a repair shop. It's already at one, so they can't send a truck to pick it up just because. The only reason they can do that is if the repair place can't fix it. We'd have the free tow back home at that point but right now we're fucked. Car is stuck in San Leandro for the time being at the repair shop and since it's AAA, it'll be expensive. We wanted to go to our guy back home.

I went back today and they said it was fixed, the bill was over $1000 with the "just look at it" and "repair" fees combined, and I hoped that would be it.

Nope.

Car started overheating just 10 minutes into the drive home, and I had to turn the AC off just to get through the drive. Coolant tank is still bubbling, the engine smells burnt, and I am exhausted and wanting to scream. My car is my lifeline, I can't be without it and I can't afford a new one right now. I just need to get my car to someone more reliable, and hopefully things can actually get fixed. It may be more than what I'm asking for, but I just need a smidgen of help. Anything will help, I'm just so tired and so stressed and my body cannot handle another panic attack tbh.

[teatitty]

I would also like to scream in your ear for your erasermic spooky month hcs, love all your erasermic stuff. Waiting until my days off to read the other 2 chaps of the one fic and then the new one,,,as a treat for suffering through Capitalism,,,,

Pulls out my files

They have a big black gothic house that's a mix of traditional and modern styles with bright pink curtains in the windows because Aizawa loves pink and every room is a different theme/vibe, it has three floors to it + a variety of secret rooms [if you've ever seen the Edith Finch game think that] just for funsies

They're somewhere in the Top 50 Richest Heroes list for Japan but neither of them mention it at all because they just don't care. This is how they manage to own about 15 cats [I also used to have 15 cats lol] and they employ a housekeeper called Rukiya

Rukiya is an ex-hitwoman who was sent to assassinate Nemuri but Nemuri liked her vibes so much they became besties. Officially Rukiya is "missing" but unofficially she's working for EraserMic as a housekeeper whenever they're away and lives with Nemuri

Rukiya dresses and acts like a maid but this is because she's committed to the Aesthetic™️

Their kitchen is filled with warm colours and tones and is the neatest looking room in the whole house

When Tensei was paralysed and would never walk again [Stain arc] they immediately set about modifying the house to be wheelchair friendly and completely accessible to him because Tensei likes staying over sometimes

Shinsou's room is a mix of naruto merchandise and real life animal skulls and fossils. All ethically found of course [re: he finds dead creatures and cleans them up before taking them home. Some of these dead creatures have leaked into the other rooms and hallways oopsies]

Eri has the brightest room because she loves bright colours and it's very hilariously jarring to go through this House Of Horrors only to open her door and get blasted by unicorn quilt covers, pawprints painted on her walls and a fluffy rug in the shape of a smiling cartoon dog

If Tokoyami's edgy emo ass ever came to this house he would never want to leave

A slight smutty HC now: the first time Hizashi and Shouta had penetrative sex it was in a coffin in an undertaker's store because they were meant to be spying on someone and locked themselves in it to avoid being seen. They were, like, 18 at the time

Their bedroom is a mix of goth and punk aesthetics with splashes of colour. They have one bedside lamp and no other lights save the sun itself and this is because of Hizashi's light sensitivity

The bed is big enough to fit four people if you squish up because Nemuri and Tensei loved doing that. Now Shinsou and Eri sometimes join them in it if they have nightmares

Shinsou fucking loves halloween but he acts super cool and calm about it guys haha ignore all those outfits and decorations he just bought on impulse it's fine

Eri doesn't really get the full point of halloween she just likes dressing up

Because of what she went through with Overhaul, Eri is surprisingly unaffected by horror movies and will gladly watch even the goriest of them with her dad's without issue. Shinsou, however, is terrified of them and will crawl over the back of the sofa to get as far away from the screen as possible

Aizawa doesn't have any private rooms for himself but does do most of his work in the kitchen because it's closest to all the snacks. He's a chronic snacker which is why he drinks jelly pouches all the time [mood]

Hizashi, however, has two private rooms for himself: a studio room for all his recordings and radio related plans and then another soundproofed room where he can just blast loud music and scream or lay on the floor to feel the bass vibrations. Shinsou also uses this room a lot to de-stress. They have screaming sessions together

I said it in another post but I'll put it here again: the first time Eri attends school she ends up getting stalked in secret by Aizawa and Shinsou, full ninja-like, and Hizashi judges them for it right up until they find him disguised as one of the school staff so he can also keep an eye on her. Eri is oblivious to this

A lot of Eri's classmates are convinced her family are in the yakuza because of how scary and intimidating they look. It's the sleep deprivation and long work hours

People think Present Mic is a purely daytime hero but this is false! Mic is called on a lot by the Underground Heroes to sneak into places in various disguises to get information because he's just one of those guys who can fit in anywhere and is a great actor

Shinsou is a terrible actor because he's not good at on-the-spot improv which has led to some very funny situations for him

This family's idea of fun is to terrorise everyone around them for kicks. You're in a deep dark tunnel with no lights? Well guess what they're gonna jumpscare you and/or make spooky noises that echo everywhere just to watch you shit yourself

Eri moves so quickly and quietly people think the UA dorms are haunted by a ghost

Eri's the only person to have ever successfully snuck up on Bakugou and scared the shit out of him in the kitchens. Shinsou was wheezing to death about it for days afterwards

Had to come back in to add one I forgot about: Aizawa is a borderline yandere for his family and that is canon To Me. I will expand on this eventually

And that's all the ones I can think of at the moment! And HELL YEAH LOOKING FORWARD TO YOUR A+ COMMENTS AS ALWAYS! I'm taking a break from writing for a while so there's time to catch up also I am rooting for you to get through capitalist hell retail sucks

[breezybeej]

real fast rapid fire short film assesments:

* Sleepwalker - A mother comforts her child after a sleepwalking incident, the mother then experiences an even worse nightmare. For being 7 minutes long, it does some cool parallel shots of a daughter sleepwalking and her mother going through nearly the same motions and shot angles later. They even had shadows look like hair on the mom to match the daughter's hair. The absence of a ||father was conspicuous and it felt like that played into the idea of the mother's past trauma reflecting in the daughter even though that was never spoken. the "shadow person" darkens a doorway similarly to how a lot of media has a druken abusive father darken doorways.|| Solid acting, the writing was okay, visuals were good except for one part that was kind of... too much? Too far into weird territory. 7/10

* The Monitor - A man is packing up his recently passed relative's things (i think?) and he calls his wifemto check in. After she leaves to shower, he sees ||a man break into the house on|| the baby monitor. ||He tries to warn his wife but then sees the man is actually Himself. Some kinda doppelganger. || The dialogue was, to put it bluntly, not good. The characters had no chemistry and their lines weren't helping. The editing was jarring when cutting between the two people on the phone. It was determined to be in their perspective for every single word said for each character. There was a cool shot when it transitioned to the baby monitor footage. I really didn't get much from this one thematically, it was mostly just a spooky incident. I think i need to watch it again though. 3/10

* Bobby Came Home - The reddit story. It's so obviously the same story beat for beat that i was shocked to see no mention of what this film was adapting. They did fun stuff with lighting but it was *harsh* lighting. Put a filter over that bulb please. They leaned into the comedy side way more than the reddit story which honestly helped. breaking the immersion is necessary for this one. The plot was obvious *without* being overexplained by a voice-over narration. yet they had one anyway 5/10

* Dark Side of the Moon - A gunslinger has a wanted man tied up by his campfire. They discuss innocence and morality before the wanted man ||turns into a werewolf and gets shooted.|| Their discussion *was* neat. The acting was unfortunate because at first i thought they were trying to be hokey but they were not. Also they had a prop with a VERY obviously modern shoulder strap and i couldnt stop giggling when it was on screen. 5/10, once you get "oh they are sincere"

* Leave no Trace - Three campers, two scare the one with a spooky story (the zone in Yosemite where you "can kill someone without consequence because loophole." They didnt even explain it right 🙄) ||The two then get scared in their tent and get got.|| I was disappointed because i wanted so badly for ||the film to be comedy. Have the thing that scares them be the other guy just going to pee or something.Let the people who tried to scare their friends be scared of their own scary story because they are gullible scaredys.|| Dialogue was, once again, just not well written. No one talks like this. 4/10

* The Night Visitor - Man sees a figure outside at night. He goes to bed, a noise wakes him up, figure is inside. He barricades his door, the figure appears behind him. This was like 2 minutes long. There wasnt much plot or characterization, just "what if a guy was in your house." And yeah, that would be fucked up huh. They applied a Damaged Film effect but it was so bad. It was JUST rapid white speckles. None of the smears or lines or anything. It felt so artificial the whole scene. It was the only film that had no dialogue recording issues because there was no dialogue. 3/10

* The Strangle of Ivy - A woman tries so hard to connect with her estranged ex-senator mother (who is scared of the ivy overgrowing her home). ||She learns that her mom killed her sister 30 years ago to keep her senate seat or something.|| I *really* liked what this movie tried to do with Guilt and the Choking Vines. Like this murder kept her pinned to her home and threatened to suffocate her. Daugher tries to help by pruning the vines but they grow back because she didn't "resolve the real problem" you know. This had such a neat idea going but the acting was just so distracting. The main character walked around with the same agape confused expression for most of the film. The sound was so bad for so many scenes like i was legitimately confused by what happened because the sound did not match up. But there WAS still some cool shots and storyline. It was an adaptation of a book so they had to cram A LOT of exposition in. 5/10 anyway though

* Bay for Blood - I can't even summarize this. A plug thinks his clients are his personal friends? He thinks one is in love with him? He drops incel talking points and other such things. He's got a guy who he's torturing in his bedroom and the guy says he deserves it for... making a mess at a party and damaging the dude's eardrums with firework sounds by accident?? idfk. He's the world's most normal plug. There are two shootings (like with a gun) and both of them have zero impact. they don't have a gun sound, no visual, no anything. Just cut to a character bleeding after a tussle. The weight of "being shot" just wasn't there. Also the final third had the most baffling editing choices like a screen flicker in time with the music, a 360 panning shot of people looking at a dead guy and it spins around them for like a full minute. In a short film. 2/10

* The Secret Other - Man comes home for a romantic night with wife after business trip. They dance, kiss, go to fuck and "have a baby." Wifey brings a knife and kills hubby for cheating on her with his secretary. This happens while her own dead body is on the bed. Doppelganger? Ghost? Unclear but i liked the representation of infidelity killing a marriage as infidelity literally killing the couple. A few dialogue issues, the vocal recordings had a hiss to them. Overall 6/10

* The ones across the pond - Woman moves to england and her neighbors kill her after she throws away some shitty cookies they gave her. I'm pretty sure this movie represents British people accurately. There are some stellar individual shots of still scenes that have scary things to notice. Also still scenes with sudden, slow, deliberate movement. It's apparently a cult thing but I saw no hint of "cult" early on. I think they put that in the credits but not in the film. Unlesn the cult was an HOA because then it would all make sense.

* Special bonus short film (it was so fucking long. like 25 minutes?) Shiver - Surreal film of a man reliving memories that you just kind of have to interpret. Pretty sure this was about a man coping with the loss of his wife and daughter by locking himself into only thinking about happy memories (represented by him taking a blue pill to stay in the world where she's still alive, an illusion of reality. Yes. He's bluepilled). This film was way to long. We were constantly leanisg over to each other and whispering "OPEN THE FUCKING ENVELOPE" because they JUST KEPT THROWING DELAYS AT IT. I can appreciate what the film was trying to do but it was so far away from actually getting it done. But the most important part was making Rocket Man integral to the plot.

The film tried to use a solo piano rendition of rocket man as an uplifting defiance of the monster stalking his dreams but it just sounds so fucking goofy. I felt so bad because i wasnt able to catch my laughter so everyone heard a guffaw before i clamped my hands over my mouth. 2/10. You get a point for trying. You did weave a story that I eventually understood but it still failed entirely to engage me. I really do like the idea of exploring "im trapped in a brighter past and it is hurting me to stay here" but not like this. Sorry.

[jerkeline]

18, 36, 54 <3

18. Pro or anti tchotchkes?

Pro! I love having little bits a pieces about the place, I wish I could have more (see my last answer re: min/maxing). The closest I have right now are plastic models and legos, but I don't think they necessarily count as tchotchkes? I have a small ceramic cat that I made recently which I love (I'll show it to you if anyone wants to see) but again, I feel like that doesn't count because I made it myself? I don't know how much of that is low self-esteem delegitimizing my own artistic creation, or if it just feels like tchotchkes/knick knacks/whatever are supposed to be bought or inherited or gifted from someone else? I will say that it's a shame to see a decline of small hand made art pieces in favour of funko pops or whatever, at least I built my plastic models myself so they contain the act of creation through lived time between the box and the shelf. Or maybe I'm just pretentious, who's to say?

36. Do you keep a daily journal or agenda?

I don't. I should, but I can't. I do a lot of writing, but something about journaling doesn't hold my interest for some reason. I also find it difficult to keep a routine for something like that, which is unusual because my life is quite regimented in most other ways. As far as agenda goes (I'm assuming this means like, future calender scheduling), I'm a disability carer and a big aspect of my job is scheduling appointments, taking her to and from, and assisting with routine stuff, so yeah I definitely need to be on top of my agenda and hers. Luckily we're best mates and live together so it's pretty seamless, yesterday I had us both booked into the same doctor for two back to back appointments, then covid and flu vaccinations each, and a little pathology for desert. Downside being she has to wait while I bitch about my (unspecified embarrasing medical issue) to the doctor, but upside being that.. well she has a live-in full time chef so that feels like a fair trade.

54. Do you decorate your house for holidays? Which ones?

I don't... Do holidays.. I don't even celebrate my own birthday (nor does anyone else). Holidays when I was a child were a fucking nightmare, so now I'm a grown arse woman with no religious affiliation, I don't have to put myself through the stress. Not to say I'm a party pooper, I just don't have any cause for celebration, it never feels worth it. I have kids so I still buy presents and celebrate with them, my ex-wife goes all out for Christmas and Easter and birthdays, so they get the whole holiday experience and stuff, and I'll celebrate with them at her house (my ex and I have worked incredibly hard to be able to stay friends and do things together like this), but I can keep it at arms length and out of my personal space. Idk, its just not really for me. I do almost like halloween?

[thetimelordbatgirl]

....Not gonna lie, was almost interested in the upcoming audios for Beyond Bannerman Road, mainly due to Luke returning and them bringing back Ms Wormwood somehow. Sure, I had my issues with first three audios...mainly the whole messing up Clani set up from show in favor of instead dragging it out still, and also small issues like acting like Luke's enemies that he had to defeat like Nightmare Man...were somehow Clyde's and Rani's defeats... But I was almost interested when they announced Luke coming back for next three...only for my interest to drop a little when seeing a UNIT badge on Luke's jacket, given uhh...let's just say I am not huge on having Luke join UNIT for so many reasons.

And now my interest has dropped fully with these story descriptions. Just, first one in particular has me annoyed because are you kidding me??? Luke actually warning Rani off something when the Bannerman Road gang invented look into shit even when told not to??? Ignoring again, my issues with UNIT Luke here, the fact that they doing this shit with Luke... And just, trying to have their friendship be tested in the process...again, its desperation because in show, the gang looked into shit no matter what...

The second one...it sounds interesting, does tell us even more what Bane intended to do to the world...but wait for me to get to my issue on that one... The third one...again, why to UNIT here: why are they in charge of Sarah's house suddenly??? I wasn't huge on this detail in farewell sarah jane, but it was being said to be sold at the end of that story so that someone can continue the adventures once they find Mr. Smith. Yet, here, now UNIT has the house and shit??? But that isn't my only issue, and this ties into my issue with the second one too, because uhhh...notice someone missing from those two descriptions??? Someone whose returning for these adventures??? Someone whose so far only mentioned in first description???? Someone who should be actually involved in both, given Bane and Wormwood shit?

Yep...its fucking Luke. How the fuck you going to do a Bane story...and not involve fucking Luke??? The dude who literally was made by them in Invasion Of The Bane just so they could use him in their plans to take over the world and in Return of The Bane, had to deal with his creator, Ms Wormwood, coming back??? Hell, Wormwood seems to be coming back in third story...but Luke is not listed with Clyde and Wormwood, so....yep, they also not involving Luke in a story involving his own creator...for fucks sake...so the only story we getting Luke in...is a story where he might be being a bitch to his friend....thanks, I hate it.

[getitoffyourchestofficial]

hi this is a lot im sorry. i love to say words and dump shit that upsets me with no real correlation. my bad /gen (genuine) (idk if you know tone indicators im sorry ough)

you dont really Have to cook up a proper response to this i just need to put it somewhere where i wont immediately get piles of advice that i cant use. i know its well-meaning but ultimately the whole situation is ou of anyones control

(also putting this 🎪 here so i can try to find it later)

im stuck in a sisyphean nightmare of a weekly cycle: i have a good day -> my mood skyrockets -> i have a bad day -> my mood plummets -> rinse and repeat. at this point i think it might be a mental condition bc something doesnt even really have to Ruin My Day, i just have to face a minor inconvenience and then suddenly im all doom-and-gloom depression for 3-5 business days before springing back up as if nothing ever happened to do it all again. my mom says i might have bpd or bipolar disorder (i always get the two confused) because she has it and we just havent seen anyone about it, mostly because we dont have the money to see any doctors most of the time. i also kinda dont wanna have either of them? not in like an asshole way but in a these-people-face-stigma-that-i-dont-know-if-i-can-emotionally-handle way. in a im already queer and fat and poor and disabled in multipled ways and overall unsavory to neurotypicals/cishets/Default Settings way. yknow

todays inciting incident was a shitty shitty halloween carnival that didnt even have the thing i was excited for, didnt have any food, had lines that were miles long (hyperbole), was too hot, and i only got 8 shitty halloween things from -- half of which were lollipops, with half of those just being the same 2 flavors but Again. we stayed for 2 hours before my mom decided she didnt wanna be out of the house anymore as usual. i cant be too mad at her because shes mentally ill in the direction of "i dont want to go anywhere because my anxiety will spike" but unfortunately im mentally ill in the direction of "if i cannot leave the house to Do Things at my own pace at least once a week i will fall into a deep depression" so we clash pretty bad most of the time. this was also following multiple minor inconveniences mind you. and was also trailed by multiple minor inconveniences. it just has not gone well. this halloween is just shaping up to suck bc i was supposed to have a whole party but we had money issues so it had to be cut down to just 2 people for a sleepover, then one of them went out to see his grandma in another state and the other is apparently in the fucking hospital right now??? at least according to his posts. and i cant blame them for these either! schedules conflict and sometimes you go to the Fuckig Hosital. its out of anyones control but it still feels like shit. so its looking like my only shot at having any fun this halloween is the trunk-or-treat at my school and idk if im even allowed to go bc i had to drop out for mental health reasons and they told me i wasnt allowed on school grounds anymore. idk if that applies here. which btw. way to make a depressed kid feel worse. you can NEVER come to this high school again or we'll ARREST YOU. fuckin bullshit. BUT thats off topic the synopsis is that this halloween sucks so far and i dont really expect it to get better which extra sucks bc im turning 18 next year and i dont wanna let this be the last hurrah for my number one favorite holiday. i cant host fucking parties for my friends after then. im gonna be busy trying to fuck off to the other end of the country. i wont have TIME for it. idk. it sucks. this sucks. fuck art and fuck you /ref (reference) /nbh (nobody here)

Ik you don't want advice for this so I'll just put it on the blog.

And idk if you want it but here's a tea

☕

[thessalian]

Thess vs Slacking Off

Well, the good news is that Temp apparently has a sixth sense for how far to push her luck (or Violet or Milady have been picking up her slack today, either way), because she didn’t seem to be pulling her usual bullshit.

The bad news? Goblin pulled some egregious bullshit that turned a properly paced day into a little over an hour of pushing-too-hard nightmare and logging out five minutes past home-time.

See, even at our worst as far as workload goes, the thing we mainly try to do is be no more than 24 hours behind on the typing. It’s not always easy, but we try. And today it looked like we actually had it! I mean, only barely, but seriously, one of the last bits of dictation from yesterday was a twelve-minute monstrosity from someone who doesn’t normally do those kids of dictations, and whose dictation I usually dislike anyway because she’s got some sentence structure issues and will use ten words when one will do. Still, most of the rest of the typing was fairly okay so I figured I could take a minute to breathe and work at a regular pace for the last hour and a half or so before close of play. This should have been fine - I got the longer stuff done first so that I could time my day better, and was looking forward to a relatively gentle hour for once.

Except then I noticed that the number of dictations in the queue had grown a lot between the start of my two-minute dictation and the end of it. Like, I know the difference between “a lot of people dictating at about the same time” spikes and “someone just dumped a whole wodge from their queue back into the main queue” spikes, and this was basically the latter. And as it was 4pm, and Goblin’s day ends at 4pm, I had an inkling as to what had happened. So I figured I’d check just to make sure that there was going to be nothing from yesterday that would need to be done before close of play.

There were over a dozen reports from yesterday, all timestamped from before my end-of-yesterday chunk. It seems she pulled her usual trick of idling and chatting and gossiping and whatever the fuck it is she does to kill time, got next to nothing done on the typing she generally hates doing anyway, and then just dumped it all back in the queue when the clock struck 4. Hell, she was halfway through one, as far as I could tell - the one on the top of her list had the specimen details and clinical details typed in but she’d left without doing the main body.

Now, I know that you obviously want to leave on time. Particularly Goblin, as she lives a long way away and there are some timetable issues with the bus local to her house. However, it fucks everyone over if you sit on stuff in your queue for several hours, barely touch it, and then dump it all back in. If you know you’re not going to get the typing done for whatever reason, you leave it there, so others can arrange their workload accordingly. But no. No, she just idled through the last couple of hours of the day and then dumped all the stuff she couldn’t be bothered to do into the main queue again, so that those of us who work past 4pm would look bad when there’s this chunk of yesterday’s typing carrying over to tomorrow.

Well, Temp wasn’t going to touch it. I knew that perfectly well. So I grabbed it and got through it, and somehow managed to get them all done while only going five minutes past the clock. I mean, I’m paying for it now, but at least it’s done. While I may not like having to pick up my colleagues’ slack (because I really, really don’t), I do actually take pride in doing my job to the best of my abilities, and if I can keep us from being more than 24 hours behind on the typing, then that’s what I’ll fucking well do. Besides, knowing my luck, I’d get some of the blame for it splashed on me. I work too hard to be tarred with that brush, thanks.

Another bit of good news, though, is that I might not have to go into the office to help with the phones while Scruffman’s on holiday in a couple of weeks. I’m ringing to talk to him about it on Friday, but seems that there’ll probably be enough cover for the phones. I mean, this is good because after the bullshit I’ve taken from Temp and Goblin this week, it might be better to not have me share space with them, lest I throttle them both.

Anyway, at least I did the baked chicken and vegetables thing for dinner yesterday, so plenty of leftovers, and don’t have to cook. I think that would be a step too far. There will be a shops run in a little bit, though. Today’s one of those days when I deserve chocolate.

[helenaheissner]

Magical Girl Exorcist Squad: Issue #19 (Devil's Eve, Act II)

THEN

Nicole guided Zack’s hands through the motions of the gun, helping him position it on the rock, while the deer lapped water from the pond at the base of the rise. Just across the water, below the drop, a magnificent stag stood tall and proud in the silver light of dawn. 

“Quiet now, quiet,” Nicole whispered to her twelve year old brother, hating the harsh scratching of her voice. Even in the echoes of memory, the pain of it going lower, breaking and cracking and stitching back together tighter and tighter into a hoarse, gravelly, auditory nightmare every time she opened her mouth was amongst the most horrible things she’d ever experienced. 

“Yeah, Nick, I got it,” Zack whispered back. Through the ages, Nicole winced. Still hurt, every time she remembered him saying her deadname. Be it in tones of admiration of irritation, or in this case, both at once.  

“You can’t give away your position. You can’t even let him know we’re here.” The day was cold and damp, gray from the gloom of November. The clouds looked ready to burst any second now… Or at least, that was how she remembered it. 

“I said I’ve got it,” Zack whined.  

“We’re not even supposed to be doing this,” Nicole reminded him. 

“Yeah, but you promised-”

“No, Dad promised.”

“And then he had to work another week so we can afford a Thanksgiving turkey,” Zack said. Nicole wasn’t sure if he’d really said that, but the information, the context of the whole blasted scenario, bled through regardless. 

The stag raised its head from the water. “Now,” Nicole said. 

The bullet tore clean through the back of the deer’s skull, killing it instantly. It toppled onto its side, bleeding and lifeless. 

“I did it!” Zack cried. 

“Too loud!” Nicole said, still softly, but tampered by her pride and enthusiasm. One shot, clean through- the boy had done it! It had taken her nearly a year to shoot with that much accuracy, but Zack was a natural. “Great work though!”

They climbed down the rise, and walked over to the kill. Zack reached down for it, clearly intending to clean it on the spot. 

Nicole tapped his arm lightly. “Forgetting something?” “Seriously?” Zack said. “It’s just a deer.”

“It’s not just a deer, Zachary, it’s one of God’s creatures, just like you and I.”

Zack grimaced, then sheathed his knife and nodded. He looked like he was beating himself up, but he joined in as Nicole offered a prayer hoping the deer was taken back in by the Lord without any difficulty. 

“Okay,” Nicole said, “Now you can-”

She stopped, twitched. Something behind her.

“What is it?” Zack said. 

Nicole pivoted a hundred and eighty degrees, and found a coyote, foaming at the mouth. 

Quickly, gently, mechanically, she grabbed the rifle and raised it, cocked it. 

The coyote ran at them, snarling, jumping at them. 

Nicole squeezed the trigger, and blew the rabid animal’s brains out. 

She breathed heavily as the fog around her grew thicker, disgusted and frightened and angry all at once. At least Zack was safe. Always, she thought from so far ahead, always kept him safe. Will always keep him safe, no matter what. Him and Monica both.

Zack walked over the coyote and crossed himself. After a moment, Nicole did the same, and together they prayed for the fallen beast. 

Eventually, they retrieved the deer carcass, and started hauling it back through the woods to their house. “Hey, Nick,” Zack said. 

“Yeah, bud?”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

Nicole smiled. “Of course.” Always. 

“You gotta admit, though…”

“What?” Nicole asked. 

“I know killing something, especially something you aren’t planning on eating, is bad and all, and we’re all creatures of God, but… That was so fucking cool! You were stone cold and you just spun around and capped that thing, it was badass!”

In spite of herself, Nicole still remembered laughing, smiling. “Hey, watch the language.”

Zack groaned. 

“But thank you,” Nicole said. “I guess it was kinda cool.”

She didn’t particularly agree with that notion anymore. Not that she would’ve done anything else, especially where Zack or Monica’s lives were concerned. 

Still, hindsight was always clearer. At least the venison had tasted good. 

NOW

Nicole looked at herself in the mirror, in her pink princess dress and long red wig and bright red lipstick and heavy eyeshadow. She wasn’t sure why she’d been thinking about that day, out hunting with her little brother. Maybe it was the contrast- all that dirt and blood and masculinity in her past, posed starkly against her hyper-feminine present. Or maybe it was because this was the sort of thing she wished she’d gotten to do with Monica- dress like pretty princesses and play together, shop for clothes, paint each other’s nails. She wished she’d gotten to teach Monica how to do her makeup, how to shop for good deals, how to flirt with boys. She’d gotten a few fleeting moments of getting to be a big sister for Monica, but it had always been shamed away. 

Usually by Zack. 

Maybe that was why she was thinking about it. 

Zack had wanted a big brother, someone to do boy-stuff with. And maybe Nicole had always been a little too willing to indulge him. But at the same time, doing that stuff with him was fun. She liked hunting and fishing and playing sports with him; that was who she was too, both girly girl and tomboy. “It doesn’t matter now,” Nicole smiled sadly. 

“What doesn’t matter now?” Amy asked, appearing in the mirror, coming through Nicole’s bedroom door. She was clad in a cheerleading uniform, a white and yellow miniskirt and crop top combo that showed off her milky skin and toned thighs, her gently curving hips and modest abs and c-cup breasts. Yellow ribbons bound her dark brown waves into a high ponytail, while her makeup was tastefully overdone. Nicole’s eyes were saucepans at the sight of her, and for a few blissful moments her mind was completely quiet. Amy approached her, and gave a wave. “Hello, Earth to Nicole, asked you a question.”

Nicole just gaped. Her brain had overheated: it had been pan-seared, deep-fried, burnt to a crisp. 

Amy smirked, eyes sparkling playfully. “Hm. Like what you see?”

Nicole nodded, jaw still dropped as far down as possible.

Amy pinched Nicole’s cheek. “Well, we aim to please.”

Coherent thought returned to Nicole’s brain long enough to form a single complete sentence: “you are so impossibly beautiful.”

Amy’s smug expression died, and she simply went bright red all over. “Y-y-y-you too. You make an amazing Ariel.”

Now it was Nicole’s turn to smirk. “You’re not just saying that because I’m trans and Ariel is an icon in the community-”

Amy raised an eyebrow. “You know by now I mean it when I say it.”

Nicole grabbed her hand. “I know.”

“So, what doesn’t matter?” Amy asked, squeezing Nicole’s hand back, stroking the top of her hand with her thumb. 

Nicole grabbed her phone from the desk next to her vanity, and took a few selfies of the two of them in front of the mirror. “Oh, I was feeling sorry for myself about the whole Zack thing again.”

Amy frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine-”

“It’s clearly not. It clearly bothers you a lot.”

“Just gonna keep calling me out, ain’tcha?”

“Only when you lie to yourself,” Amy smiled. 

They took a few more selfies, smiling for the camera, then Nicole said, “Okay, fine. I miss my little brother. I miss talking to him. And I’m depressed for the thousandth time I wasn’t born a girl and I never really got to be an older sister for him.”

“Agree to disagree- you were, and you did, you just didn’t know it.”

Nicole smiled gently. “Thank you. That’s honestly wicked sweet.”

A few more selfies. 

“Have you talked to him at all since it happened?” Amy asked. 

“No. When I’ve talked to the rest of the family, they’ve avoided mentioning him. One time I was video-chatting with my Mom and Monica, and Zack came on screen behind them and just rushed upstairs without saying anything.”

“Jesus,” Amy said. 

“What do you even do when your teenage brother is being this much of a butt-head?” 

“Honestly? From my own ongoing experience with the subject?” Amy said. “I let my parents deal with it.”

Nicole sighed. “Yeah. I guess that’s what they’re there for.”

“And other stuff, but you know that.”

“Yeah,” Nicole said. She thumbed through the selfies, and realized she could see Amy and herself holding hands in all of them. That made something inside her sing. “I’ll talk to my folks. Maybe they can arbitrate a talk between us all. I mean… Probably not, that’s not really something most families do, but it’s worth a shot, right?”

“Can’t hurt,” Amy shrugged. 

“Yeah,” Nicole said. “Okay, enough of that. We’ve got a Devil’s Eve party to crash.”

“But we’re not crashing it, it’s open-invite.”

“Yeah, but it sounds cooler if I say it like… You did that on purpose.”

Amy poked Nicole’s nose. “Guilty. Let’s go. The others are gonna meet us there.”

***

Cass’ costume, a white prom dress drenched in fake blood, fluttered underneath her unbuttoned red overcoat. She clomped on the five-inch heels, wobbling about- still not used to lady-stilts above two-inches, but the costume was incomplete without them. Night had claimed the sky, and jack o’lanterns lit every street corner while the aromas of woodsmoke and roasting meat wafted through the air. St. Joseph’s came into view around the corner, and as she passed an alley, something jumped out and shouted, “BOO!”

Cass jumped, and summoned Holy Light into her fist as she spun… And saw it was Matt. He wore jeans, a blue button down, a fake scar, and a fake chainsaw around his hand like a glove. “Gotcha,” he said, chuckling. 

“Do not do that again, Pendejo!” Cass said, half-laughter and half-fright. “Seriously, though, tonight’s stressful enough.”

“Sorry,” Matt said sheepishly. “Thought it would help relieve the tension.”

As she breathed in and out, tasting the fresh air, awareness of her surroundings tripled- all the disparate noise settled into a cohesive whole, and it was calm and bright and gentle. Okay. Okay. That’s… Maybe he had a point there. I do feel a bit less wound up. And it was kinda funny- I’m pretty sure I’ve done that people at some point. Maybe not on purpose… Okay, maybe occasionally on purpose. 

… Stop it me, you’re getting sidetracked- we’ve established that that was funny and charming and so is he. So ACT! NORMAL! And don’t blow this. You’ve done this a million times: just let your body talk for you, keep the actual verbiage to a minimum.  “... Fair enough. I love your costume, by the way.”

“Thanks!” he smiled with both his eyes and his mouth. “Yours too! You’re dressed as one of my favorite movies!”

“You’re dressed as one of mine,” Cass said, putting a hand on her hip and leaning towards him an inch. “You a horror fan?” This just gets better and better. 

“Love it!” he exclaimed. 

Cass’ heart hammered in her chest. She bit her lower lip for maybe just a tick too long. Okay, cool- we’ve established a common interest outside of work- that’s good. Just don’t nerd out too much- that always makes them run away.  “Like, slashers, haunted houses, psychological, surrealist-”

“All of the above.”

Cass’ eyes went wide. DON’T SAY IT DON’T SAY IT DON’T SAY IT- “All of it?”

“Yup! Mike and I watched them all the time, plus sometimes when it was raining, the public library would let me come inside and watch flicks on their projector. Got wicked into Spanish horror for a while- that’s how I picked up the language.”

“That is so fucking wholesome,” Cass said, and then immediately went deer-eyed as the side effects of Matt’s powers rung a bell in her conscious mind. 

“You think so?” Matt said, tugging at his sideburns, eyes darting about. “We should get together sometime, watch a flick. You know, if we get through tonight in one piece.”

Cass’ smile blossomed to new levels. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH-  “I’d love that.”

“Cool.”

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: FIRST DATE! FUCK YES. Now, please, me, for the love of all that is holy, ACT! NORMAL! “What are you doing here, anyhow?” Cass asked. 

“Wanted to talk to Father Gonzalez about something.”

“Same, actually,” she said. She needed to apologize to him. Pulling a knife on someone and threatening them when they were trying to help was… Well, it was something you should apologize for. Hopefully she could manage to do that without Matt overhearing it- it wasn’t exactly a great look when you were just getting to know someone. 

Reluctantly, they left the safe enclave of the alley’s mouth and resumed their forward journey into the darkening Devil’s Night. They approached St. Joseph’s, and Cass noticed someone, a teenaged white boy with brown hair and a sour face, waiting outside, sitting on the steps with his arms hung at his sides. 

“What’s Nicole’s shithead little brother doing here?” Cass said, glaring. 

“That’s Zack?” Matt grinded his teeth in disgust. “The one who did that shit to her?!”

“Yeah, it is,” Cass fists clenching alongside her jaw. Every instinct told her not to, every intelligent cell in her brain screamed ACT! NORMAL! But this was something right in front of her that struck a flint on the fuel of her temper. In Spanish, she said, “You know, I’m kinda new to this whole ‘having older siblings’ thing, but it strikes me that this young man-”

“-Has committed a grievous wrong against an older sibling who, by all accounts, is and always has been of a fairly high caliber?” Matt said, also in Spanish.

“Si,” Cass said, marching over to the brat. She loomed over him, her shadow twice as long as her body. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing here, kid!” the eighteen year old screamed at the sixteen year old. 

Zack looked up, his face oversaturated with Catholic guilt. “I did something bad.”

“So you came to church?” Cass asked. “Fair enough. But you live in New Hampshire- why did you come to church in another state?”

“I needed to talk to Father Gonzalez,” Zack said, eye contact faltering as his pupils dilated. “It couldn’t be anyone else.”

“Why not?” Matt asked, stroking his chainsaw-hand. 

“Because of what he said, that day in church when I was here. When we were all… Wait, who are you?” Zack said, tilting his head as he looked at Matt. 

Oh no, Cass thought. 

“Matt Callahan, Magical Boy,” Matt said automatically. He winced as he said it- evidently, he knew what the consequences of this would be. 

“Wait, so there are Magical Boys,” Zack said. 

“Yes,” Cass and Matt said simultaneously. 

“So my brother’s not really a freak?!”

“No, you idiot!” Cass and Matt said simultaneously. 

Zack practically jumped off the steps. “Wait, so then-”

“Nicole is a girl, you shithead!” Cass said. “She’s trans- she’s a girl. And God agrees with her, otherwise He wouldn’t have made her this way! Fucking accept it already!”

“Yeah, seriously, you fucking asshole,” Matt said, brandishing his chainsaw as sparks of white light jetted out from it. Zack’s eyes bulged as he squirmed to avoid the thing. “I cannot believe you- you’ve got a perfect older sibling like Ms. Nygaard-”

“Seriously, Pendejo, she’s only a year older than us,” Cass pointed out.

“And you just spit in her face like that because some elderly douchebag in Italy tells you too?! Do I have that right?! That’s your excuse, isn’t it? For pushing her away? For perverting the good word of God? For not thinking about what’s right, and just being a reactive, dogmatic little ass-clown instead? For being a bigoted, disrespectful piece of white trash-”

Zack jumped to his feet and glared, grabbing a fistful of Matt’s shirt. “Do not call me that! DON’T EVER CALL ME WHITE TRASH-”

Matt spat in the kid’s face. Zack blinked rapidly, too shocked to fully process what was happening.

“Siddown, boy,” Matt snapped. 

Zack obeyed him, sitting back down on the steps. 

“If you don’t wanna be called white trash, you shouldn’t fucking act like it, you ignorant fucking redneck,” Matt said, the disgust palpable in his voice.

Zack nodded silently, jaw still dropped, eyes still wide. Matt fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to the boy. 

“Now,” Matt continued. “Let’s hear it from you. What’d you come to talk to the Good Padre about?”

Zack gulped. “I got into a fight at school today. Someone… Someone said something about… About my older si… Sibling. Said a word I… I didn’t much like. And I got up and I threw the first punch. I think I broke his nose. After that I just ran away and left. Hopped on the train and came here.”

Cass cocked her head. This was really not what she’d been expecting. Then again, that was true of most of her life. She knelt down, got at Zack’s eye level. “Then you’ve taken the first step. Does Nicole know you’re here?”

“Nobody does except you guys,” Zack said. 

“Then why don’t you go do what you came here to do,” Cass said. “We won’t tell your sister you’re here if you don’t want us to. And we’ll wait outside ‘till you’re done. Okay?”

Zack nodded nervously. “Yes, ma’am,” the sixteen year old said to the eighteen year old. 

The boy ran up the steps and went inside the chapel. 

“I feel like maybe I went a little too far there,” Matt said. 

“Really? I found that pretty satisfying,” Cass said, and then gulped. FUCKING DAMMIT ME YOU HAD ONE JOB AND IT WAS TO ACT! NORMAL!!!!

Matt chuckled. “Glad you think so-”

That was when the scream erupted from the belly of the chapel. And it sounded a lot like Zack. 

They wasted no time, Cass transforming as they rushed inside and found Bishop Roberts bleeding on the floor, a bullet in his gut, while Father Gonzalez was back up against a wall with a gun pressed into his forehead. The gun was in the hands of Detective Angela Di Lorenzo.

“Ah, Ms. Ortiz,” the detective said, blood dribbling down her chin, “Come to discuss your career prospects?”

***

Debbi finished adjusting the mask on her Stargirl costume while Heather applied dark red lipstick. Her girlfriend was dressed as Carmilla, so they’d certainly make for an interesting couple at the party. Part of Debbi groaned about her own lack of work-life balance: this was the first party they were going to as a couple, and it was for work. But hey, someone had to save the world. 

“You look upset,” Heather said, popping her lips in the vanity mirror inside her bedroom. Orange and black fairy lights lined the walls and stretched an ethereal film over the room, while all of Heather’s stuffed animals wore pointy black witch’s hats.

“I am upset. I’m still not crazy about this plan.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Do you… Do you think I should’ve pushed back against this more?” Debbi asked. 

“I dunno know if I can really answer that,” Heather said, walking over to Debbi, putting her arm around her. “I wish I had. I know that much. But that sounds like you’re asking me because you think you should have. Do I have that right?”

Debbi sighed, pulling away from Heather and sitting down on her bed. “Yeah. You do. I’m just… God, I feel like I’m ignoring my instincts whenever I don’t try to take charge of these things, especially when my sisters and Nicole are both thinking with their hearts and never their heads. But at the same time…”

“What?”

“Blarg. Okay, look, I don’t like talking about this. But when I was in high school, I made a bid to be cheer captain. And when I didn’t get elected, I turned into a passive-aggressive bitch who constantly criticized everyone else and exploded whenever anyone tried to criticize me. The backlash to this was about as intense as you’d expect, and I almost quit the squad because of it. And I wonder sometimes about what I would’ve been like if I’d actually been captain- how much of an asshole I’d have turned into if I were actually in charge of anything.”

Heather stood in front of her and cupped her cheeks. Debbi’s heart went aflutter and her breath caught in her throat. “Babe. You don’t know that for sure. You don’t know anything for sure if you didn’t do it, if it didn’t happen. You can’t self-flagellate with the hypothetical- it’s unhealthy. And it doesn’t get you anything.”

Debbi nodded. 

“You worry about everyone, and you think ahead when the rest of us don’t. You are a good leader. If you want to make that a more formal arrangement, then maybe when this is over we all have a talk about it. Amy will probably be all for it. And Nicole’s a reasonable person, when she’s not being way too… Nicole for her own good.”

“What about Cass?” Debbi raised an eyebrow. “She hates it when I tell her what to do.”

“We’ll just make sure Matt’s there- she’ll be too busy making googly-eyes at him to do anything.”

“Pfft. You’re right,” Debbi said. “Let’s… Let’s pick this back up when this is over.”

Heather gave her a peck on the lips. “Sounds good. Now, let’s go fuck some shit up.”

They put on their coats and headed for the door.

They opened it, and found Astra waiting outside for them, flanked by two hellhounds and a dragon, wielding a hellfire claymore. “Hello, Deborah. Heather. I’ve come to discuss family, and why Amanda doesn’t belong with yours. Shall we begin?” the General said. 

***

Amy parked her car in the lot behind Ditko Hall. Orange and red and yellow lights screamed from every window in the five-story building, while techno music vibrated out the walls and the glass and the foundation. A waning crescent moon smiled in the darkened sky between the errant stormclouds straggling after last week’s deluge. Starlight struggled to pierce the veil of vapor and pollution and the wall of lights emanating upwards from the city. Nicole adjusted her wig, tying it back slightly to keep the red strands out of her eyes. 

“You ready for this?” Amy asked, squeezing her hand. 

Nicole gulped, then smiled. “As I’ll ever be. Where’s everyone else?”

“Dunno,” Amy said. She retrieved her phone from her purse and scanned it. “Nothing in the group chat. No calls on mine. What about you?”

Nicole checked her phone. “Nothing- oh, wait… No, it’s from my mom. She wants me to call her back, says it’s important.”

“Do you want me to wait outside the car while you return her call?” Amy said. 

Nicole sucked in her cheeks and thought about it. “I dunno. I feel like it’ll throw me off my game right before things go sideways. What if it’s a big emotional mother-daughter talk and it takes a while?”

“That’s fair,” Amy said, cracking her neck. “Tell you what- why don’t I give the others a call outside, and then by the time I’m back, let’s go in. You can tell her honestly that you have to do some superhero stuff. Sound good?”

“Okay,” Nicole smiled. 

Amy stepped outside the car, and Nicole dialed her mother. She picked up on the first ring. “Hey Mom, what’s up?”

“Nicole, is Zack with you?” Mom asked, her voice hoarse and haggard. 

“What? No. Why?”

“Because he’s not here! He… He left.”

Nicole’s stomach dropped out of her. “What?!”

“Okay, sweetie, I need you to stay with me here,” Mom said. “This is gonna need some context. So, I put up a trans pride flag on our front porch, right next to the USA one.”

“Y… You did?”

“I did. And our neighbors asked about it. And I… I told them the truth.”

“You… You what?” Nicole said. That… Was both very sweet and very, very stupid. 

“I told them about you. Not all of them took it well. And your brother… He especially didn’t take it well. And… I doubled down. I put one on our car. I put one on my phone. And I put one in my classroom. The school… The school wasn’t happy about that. Said I was trying to make some kind of political statement.”

“That’s completely absurd!”

“And I agree- there’s nothing political about supporting my child. But the school didn’t see it that way. They said they wanted to bring me in for a hearing. Zack must’ve somehow heard about it, because he got into a fistfight today when someone called you a slur.”

“... I’m sorry, what? Zack did that? Our Zack?”

“He ran out of class and left before anyone could stop him. He didn’t come back home, and he’s not answering his phone. The only thing I could think of is that he went to see you.”

“And I haven’t seen or heard from him,” Nicole said. This is bad this is bad this is bad-

“Okay. Can I ask you to look for him?”

“Of course you can!” Find him find him find him keep him safe.

“Are you sure? Didn’t you mention having a superheroing thing tonight?”

“I… I do… But… I have to find him. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t!”

“Thank you. Thank you so much, sweetheart.”

“Of course! I’ll find him and bring him home,” Nicole said, with all the confidence she could muster. 

“I love you, Nicole.”

“I love you too, Mom. I’ll keep you posted.”

With that, she hung up, and she stepped out of the car. 

Amy waved to her. “Hey, so I can’t seem to get a hold of anyone.”

“That sounds like a bad omen,” Nicole said. 

“Agreed. We should get out of here, find the others and regroup.”

“Yeah,” Nicole said, mind racing, heart thundering. Gotta keep him safe. “My little brother is missing.”

“What?!”

Nicole brought her up to speed. 

“Okay,” Amy said. “Let’s start at St. Joseph’s and take it from there. If he’s in this city, he’s probably either there or at our apartment-”

“Assuming he’s not inside,” Nicole said, staring at Ditko Hall.

“W… Why would he be in there?”

“He doesn’t know I moved in with you,” Nicole said. “As far as he knows, I still live in Ditko Hall. So if he’s coming to see me-”

“Then he would have gone to your dorm,” Amy said, exhaling. 

“I have to go in there,” Nicole said. 

“What if Winona’s in there?” Amy said. “We agreed we wouldn’t do this without the whole team here.”

“I know!” Nicole snapped. Then, closing her eyes and breathing in through her nose, she whispered. “I know. But if he’s in there… I can’t just leave. I have to know. I have to keep him safe.”

Amy sighed and cracked her knuckles. “Okay. Then I’m not leaving either.”

“But- but the others-”

“I can’t possibly leave you here alone,” Amy said. “Whatever happens inside there, we face it together. I won’t leave you. I can’t.”

Nicole gulped. “You’d… You’d really do that?”

Amy bit her lower lip, then said, “For you? Absolutely.”

The gears inside Nicole’s mind spun and spun and spun. This was all so much… And Amy was… She was willing to risk her life like that, for her. Nicole stared into the cheerleader’s eyes, at her lips, and leaned forward slowly, automatically. 

Amy leaned in as well, mouth opening as she closed the gap.

A small explosion sounded from within the walls of Ditko Hall. Both girls’ necks twisted as they turned their gaze to the dorm, and then back to each other. 

Nicole gave a bitter chuckle, then put a finger on Amy’s mouth. “Later. Eyes on the prize for now. Okay?”

Amy nodded, a face awash with lust and gratitude falling away and being replaced by steadfast determination and moral conviction. 

They held hands as they marched into the fray together. 

They searched each level of the floor, navigating through dozens upon dozens of inebriated college kids, amidst blaring strobe lights and Halloween music, across fields and fields of jack o’lanterns and skeletons and fake headstones and zombie arms erupting from various walls and floors and ceilings. Fake blood was splattered everywhere, staining carpets and windows and mirrors and wallpaper indiscriminately. Five different boys stopped them and tried to ask them to dance, one being particularly aggressive, continually putting hands on Amy. Amy kicked him in the shins when he asked why she was dressed like that if she didn’t want to put out. 

They made it all the way up to the top floor, where they found Curtis. 

And found Winona grinding on him. 

Nicole gnashed her teeth and started to march over, but Amy grabbed her arm. 

“Don’t,” Amy’s whisper cut through the waves of noise, face only an inch away from Nicole’s. “We can’t take her with just the two of us. We’ve cleared the building, now we should get out of here, regroup, and find your brother.”

Nicole’s heart deflated. She bunched and un-bunched her fists, then breathed out through her nose again. “You’re right. Let’s-”

“Leaving so soon?” Winona asked. She wore a chainmail bikini with a sword scabbarded on her side, her breasts bouncing and her hips swaying as she walked. 

Curtis walked over with her, glued to her side… 

… And his eyes were black. 

“I mean come on, can’t I at least get a dance in with my two favorite girls in the whole world?” Winona said, drawing her sword. The metal burst alive with Hellfire. Everyone on the floor stared at them, started closing in on them. All their eyes were black. Even the candles inside the jack o’lanterns burned with obsidian flames as shadows wreathed the walls and sparked out of the floors and the music mutated into a choir of plaintive wails. “I mean seriously, girls: the party’s just getting started,” Winona smiled and spreading her wings as the shadows closed in on them. 

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Im gonna start watching Supernatural season 6 but before that, I have some predictions. Most of these are based on the assumption that every season from now on is basically gonna be a self-contained arc that they wrote without knowing if they were gonna get a next season or not, just to make that clear.

Theres gonna be a villain thats basically just metaphorical celestial hitler bc if theres one thing english-speaking people inexplicably love to put in their media its nazi imagery. The metaphorical celestial nazis are going to be angels (because making them demons would be too obvious) and depending on how late or early this is gonna be in the series, Castiel is gonna have like, a radicalisation arc basically. I think if its gonna be in the sixth season right away, he'll definitely get radicalised but if its in seasons 7-10 I dont think thatll happen but if its in seasons 11-15 I think it will happen. I do have reasons for thinking that but Im having trouble articulating those so Im just gonna move on

Theres gonna be another fanconvention episode (probably multiple given that we have 10 seasons ahead of us) and theyre going to mock destiel shippers and Im going to be so unbelievably upset

Theres gonna be a season where the main villain is some kind of nightmare creature guy thats causing everyone all over the globe to have these horrific nightmares so people dont wanna/cant sleep and because of that whole lot of people are just straight-up dying from lack of sleep or because people are too exhausted to funktion properly so theyre hitting people with cars n shit like that. Sam and Deans nightmares are mostly about their daddy issues and whatever mistakes (or potential mistakes) they made in the season before that and I dont think they'll show Cas' nightmares but if they do, theyll be full of fucked up religious imagery

Alternatively, the nightmare creature guy has the ability to manifest peoples nightmares as tangible things in the real world but mark my words, theres going to be some kind of nightmare creature guy

Zombie Apocalypse Season

Theyre going to bring back vampires and have a conflict about the ethics of being a vampire, basically an extended version of that one episode with the vampires who only killed and ate animals, except this time theyll also make fun of twilight bc why not. fuck it we ball amiright

Castiel is gonna turn human temporarily at some point and Dean n Sam are gonna turn temporarily non-human at some point

Speaking of which, Sam standing outside of Deans house watching him eat with his son was probably not meant to be literal and was purposefully very ambiguous but I think the writers are gonna take advantage of that and have a plotline about Sam being a ghost in the sixth season, or even an angel if they wanted to get wacky with it which, honestly they should. I once saw someone describe Supernatural by saying smth like "the first five seasons were the actual show, everthing after that is just the creators retirement plan" do Im definitely anticipating some bullshit (affectionate), but also some bullshit (derogatory)

Dean and Sam and maybe Cas are gonna have to fight like, dark evil AU versions of themselves who wear all black and have really heavy eyebags or fucked up eyes at some point

I just remembered that theres gonna be dragons who just look like guys in this show bc Ive seen a few spoilers for it and I literally do not have any predictions about them, like I cannot even conceive of dragons being in this show why did they put them in there

We're definitely going to get a bunch more evil women in this show so I think we're gonna get succubi, sirens, whatever other monsters that are usually portrayed as beautiful women, we're getting them

I think thats it so far, please dont spoil me and tell me directly if Im right or wrong about any of this, thanks

[dzpenumbra]

3/27/23

I have to be brief here tonight. Who knows if I actually will be, I rarely am. But like... this is the third night in a row that I've been sleep deprived and thinking to myself "I really need to take advantage of this to reset my sleep schedule". And now... I'm just starting this and it's 12:45. Rather than like... 4.

I woke up after 5 hours of sleep from a nightmare. Not viscerally intense, just... generally upsetting, unsettling. I was talking with my former "friend" K who... has always had one form of drug problem or another. Hunger, self-control issues, that kinda thing, I guess. Chasing endorphin dumps her entire life. Hedonism, I guess, mostly drugs and sex.

I have no idea why I was friends with her, looking back. I was straight edge, I was a skateboarder. I guess we just had a similar sense of humor and she represented a lot of the bohemian things I wanted to explore in life. Specifically the spiritual stuff - at that age, ghost hunting, ouija, stuff like that - and the craft stuff. She always had hemp necklaces and tie dye shirts and cool glass beads and shit. That side of life, which she was directly tapped into, which was completely absent from my life... was so influential and appealing to me that many components of that life are still major components of my life to this day.

But she would constantly get herself into trouble. Constantly overspending, constantly using harder and harder drugs, constantly hooking up with people... often for those drugs, or just in the presence of them. Though I remained aloof to a lot of it, and kept my nose out of the stuff I did know about. I wanted nothing to do with it. I had male friends like that too, I just... changed the topic whenever they brought it up. It's not my thing and it's very awkward for me, not something I was used to at all and it would make me very uncomfortable. I am very one-on-one, I focus my attention on one person at a time, in all respects of life. It's just how I function, and how I get the most satisfaction in life, and for me, it produces the best results by far. Instead of giving 10 people 5% of my energy, I give one person 50% of my energy. And that... just means a lot more to me, even if it does hurt tremendously to lose those bonds. Or have them taken advantage of.

In this dream, K was younger. I don't know when this was supposed to take place, but it was before the "homeless arc", when I saw her last. Again, when I last saw her... she was smoking some form of hard drug by the river in the park where I used to go pretty much every day. She looked like a literal skeleton. As long as I've known her (since she was like... 17?) she was overweight, but I could like... see her damn cheekbones. I literally did not recognize her.

I was at the river to visit the spot where I spread my dog's ashes. And she was there smoking crack or something like 10 yards away. And she told me she lost custody of her 5 kids, and was facing criminal charges in another state for smuggling fentanyl across state lines. And told me a lot of horror stories. As I just stood there like a deer in headlights, she just dumped Requiem for a Dream-level stories on me one after another. And... it broke me. For real. I was terrified. I didn't go back to the river for like a week, and when I did, I was looking over my shoulder the whole time. I didn't want to leave my house. I was scared. She knew where I lived at the time. I was scared to sleep. I didn't know if her or her fucked up drug friends might come by my house and try to break in and steal my shit.

I remember when I walked back from the river to my car that day - very fast, mind you - I had one hand in my pocket the entire time, holding my keys between my fingers like Wolverine claws. A tip someone taught me way back as like... improvised self defense if you're in a city. It fuckin shook me.

In this dream though, I was just... once again... trying to show her the potential she has. And it ended right around when I was very directly emphasizing that she was a slave to the drugs, really. She worked for them, not the other way around. That she's always been an addict, and that's just what it is, and at some point you really have to accept that to be able to move forward and actually have a life. Because there are tools out there to make it work, there are addicts that live functional lives. It is possible. But it doesn't happen on its own, you have to fucking want it. I didn't get that far into explaining to her, I'm just elaborating here, I basically broke the news that drugs have been ruling her entire life and she decides when that ends. And then I woke up upset.

I didn't record the dream. I don't know why. I think I immediately went into analysis-mode instead of short-term memory recall mode, and ended up losing the memory milestones.

5 hours of sleep, then just decided to get up. Today I kept it really low-key. A lot of Valheim. I put together this thing that mounts my computer to my desk that my mom got me... 2 of? For some reason? But now my mouse is all wonky, I think the desk interferes with the wireless signal. I think I'm overdue for a mouse-keyboard upgrade anyway. I recorded some music, which was pretty good. Rounded out the night with some Session. Avoided Twitch. And now... I think I'm gonna try to get to bed at a decent hour.

I hope I can get to the skatepark tomorrow. Maybe it's just the sleep deprivation, maybe it's the isolation, but I'm starting to get pretty deeply depressed. That whole "not really enjoying anything I'm doing, feeling like I need to be doing literally anything else, but nothing specifically I want" feeling? Yeah, it was big today, still is. Stress and depression, most likely. Exercise will be good. Being around people who are hopefully chill will be good.

I have a lot of things piling up on the To-Do list, so... tomorrow might be a big one. It all depends on how the night goes. And honestly, I can't really remember the last time I went to sleep when it was dark out, so... I have no idea how this is going to go. Fingers crossed.

Positive Note - I watered my orchid, I'm still shocked that thing is still going strong. And I'm pretty well settled on the astrology chart for the back of the hoodie, but I didn't do any work on it today. It'll happen when it happens. :)

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Thunder In Our Hearts (Part 4)

Summary: The reader and Soldier Boy have begun to be more relaxed around each other which leads to a very important conversation for Ben...

Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x reader

Word Count: 3,500ish

Warnings: language, nudity, violence, drug/abuse/sexual assault/torture mentions

A/N: Spoilers for Season 3 of The Boys in this one! Aw, could this be the breakthrough Ben needed?…

_______

You woke up sweating, sunlight pouring in the room. After your talk with Soldier Boy, you headed to bed to try to catch at least a few hours of sleep. It’d been pointless though, nightmares plaguing you the whole time.

“Are-” You jumped in bed, Soldier Boy in the doorway sporting a clean pair of black sweats and a red and white sweatshirt. He held up his hands, realizing your own were shaking. “You doing okay, sport? That’s your fifth screaming nightmare in the span of an hour.”

You shut your eyes. He’d killed twenty nine people for you so far. Twenty nine. Not to mention everyone at that facility.

Fuck, you were just as bad as he was. 

Maybe even worse.

Something was tossed at you and you blinked, spotting his sweatshirt in your lap. 

“The cold causes nightmares.” He turned and left, waving hand in the doorframe. “Coffee’s in the pot.”

“I don’t have a coffee pot,” you groaned, falling back in bed. “That’s a water tank, not a coffee pot.”

“No wonder it tastes like shit.” With a shake of your head you got up and dressed for the day, slipping on his sweatshirt. 

“Soldier Boy I appreciate you trying to take care of yourself but you have to follow the directions I…” you trailed off, Soldier Boy smirking as you looked at the keuring and cup of hot coffee next to it. “Were you messing with me?”

“Me? Never,” he teased. He sipped out of your favorite olive colored mug, licking his lips. You gratefully picked up the blue mug, surprised to find he’d already put cream in it. “How’d I do, boss?”

“Good job. All we’re missing is bacon.” He smiled, the room quiet for a beat as you drank your coffee’s in a content silence. “Soldier Boy?”

“You going to try to talk me out of trying to kill my son?” You shook your head. “I’m all ears.”

You thumbed over the blue porcelain before setting it in the sink. “I have one more name on my list before we start going down yours.”

“Not a problem. We’re moving through yours pretty fast.” 

“The last guy is going to be an issue. He’s in the CIA.”

“So?”

“So he’s smart enough to know that I’m the one behind the killings so far and smart enough to know it’s you doing it for me. We have to be more careful. I don’t want to wind up dead and I don’t want you captured again.” He cocked his head and put his mug aside, crossing his arms. “I know it’s silly to worry but-”

“Sh.” He stepped over, pressing a finger to your lips when you went to speak. Dark green eyes looked you up and down, a small shake of his head worrying you. 

“Soldier-” His hand covered your mouth, finger tapping your nose after a moment.

“Here I thought when all was said and done you’d be turning me in to get the government off your back.”

“What?” You narrowed your eyes, pushing his hands away. “I’m not going to fucking betray you. You don’t deserve to go back to that place.”

“Yesterday I deserved to have been tortured. Today I don’t deserve to have to sit in a box for all eternity?” You brushed past him, hands going to your hips. “Make up your mind, kid.”

“I have made up my mind.” You spun around, shaking your head at him, watching him run his hand over his face. 

“And? Everything about you says you’d throw me to the wolves to save your own ass.” 

A loud slap echoed throughout the house. The stinging of your palm was at the back of your mind though. 

Because Soldier Boy was laughing his ass off.

“What is so damn funny! I would never do that to you and I have never indicated to you once that I would.” He doubled over in laughter. The only logical answer was he’d snapped. Instead of going on a killing spree, he was having a mental break. “What is wrong with you? I slap you and you start acting like a maniac?”

“Oh you’re still so innocent it’s adorable,” he chuckled, righting himself. He cleared his throat, pressing his chest to yours. “I pissed you off on purpose. I was curious about how you’d react. If you were going to be afraid of me or honest. I was not expecting to get smacked. I thought it was funny that little old you has bigger balls than anyone I’ve ever met. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re starting to like me.”

“Man-child,” you grumbled, quickly taking your computer and going outside to work.

When the storm clouds threatened to unleash themselves that afternoon, you were forced inside, grateful that Soldier Boy had started a fire in the fireplace, a cozy warmth filling the house.

“Ben,” you said, his eyes glancing over the top of his book at you. “I do apologize for hitting you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You have PTSD and I pushed your buttons. No big deal.” You raised an eyebrow, eyes drawn down to the cover of the book he was reading.

“Are…are you reading my post-combat trauma book?” He hummed, turning a page. “I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff.”

“I believe in shell shock. Seen plenty of good men suffer from it. I don’t have it is all I was saying.” You laughed, his eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.” You sat down at the table, jotting down a name. “Ben?”

“What?” You looked over your shoulder, his nose stuck in the book again.

“I’m going to follow up on a lead. I’ll probably be gone until tomorrow night. You okay on your own until then?”

“Don’t you think we ought to stick together?” You grabbed the notebook and shrugged. He rolled his eyes, not even noticing when you snuck into his room before heading out.

“Well, well,” said Soldier Boy the next evening. He was on the front porch with his book, smirking as you walked through the pouring rain for the house. “If you wanted to run off and do the last kill on your own you could have told me.”

You paused at the door, Soldier Boy standing, putting a flat hand against your chest. Long fingers pushed open your rain jacket, tapping the vest you wore. His vest.

“Stronger than any bullet proof vest ever could be. A bit big for you so more coverage. Only question is why take the risk? I’m indestructible. You’re not.” 

“Some people you need to look in the eye.” You opened the door as his large hand curled around your bicep.

“Why him? You don’t kill your father or those other men and they did horrible things. What made this one so special?” You smiled, eyes roaming up to his shoulder, stopping at his green eyes. 

“Didn’t you kill your girlfriend when she sold you out? When you loved them, it hurts worse, doesn’t it?” 

He blinked, letting you go inside. In the bathroom you saw the dried blood on your face, a few splatters on your cheek. Your eyes snapped shut, wishing you could forget about the last two weeks. 

Everything had been so much simpler back then.

Soldier Boy was nowhere to be found after your shower and honestly, you were glad for it. You weren’t in the mood to talk, to explain. 

He’d been back at some point in the night because his uniform and shield were gone. But he wasn’t there for breakfast. Was missing at lunch when you got back from the store. He’d missed dinner too.

For some insane reason, you missed the son of a bitch. He was crude and jerked off too loudly and smoked too much weed. It was disgusting to watch quite honestly.

But there was something…raw about him. Like an open wound that couldn’t heal. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want him to leave just yet. He understood that kind of pain, the kind that lived down in your soul. 

You jumped when the door suddenly opened, Soldier Boy stepping inside, hair soaked from the rain.

“Where’d you go?” you asked. He took off his muddy boots, leaving them by the door before he bypassed you, going straight to the bathroom. Maybe it was better this way. Keep things casual. Complete your deal and be done with each other.

A loud thud from the bathroom made that thought fly out the window. You rushed over and opened the door, Soldier Boy laying on the ground with closed eyes.

“Ben?” You knelt down and pushed on him, his chest rising and falling softly. “Ben, wake up.”

“Hm?” He fluttered open his eyes, smacking his lips together. “How’d I get home?”

“Did you hit your head?” You ran your fingers through his wet strands, Soldier Boy groaning as he sat up. “Are you okay?”

“Fuck’s sake I’m high.” His pupils were blown out and you spotted the faintest bit of white powder under his nose. Of course he was high. He’d taken your money and gotten drugs and did god knows what else while he was out there. “Take a shower with me.”

“No and I don’t want you doing hard drugs in my house.” You reached a hand into his pocket and found a bottle of pills, Soldier Boy snatching your wrist before you could even get them free. “Let go.”

“Give me my pills,” he growled. 

“You pathetic disappointment,” you said with narrowed eyes. His eye twitched and suddenly you were on your back in the hallway, Soldier Boy on top of you, eyes blown out as he raised his shield over his head. He shouted as he threw the shield hard, straight through one of the kitchen chairs. 

“I am not a disappointment!” he spat out. He climbed off of you, storming into his bedroom. There was another small thud and then sniffling.

Oh fuck. The most powerful supe on the planet was having a mental breakdown in your guest room. It’d probably be safest to leave and never come back. Most likely he’d strangle you if you went in there and god forbid, found him crying. 

Yet you found yourself stepping into his room anyways, Ben sat with his back against his bed, facing the wall. You sat down leaning against the other side of the bed, resting your elbows on your tucked up knees. He cleared his throat, his stare hot on your back before it melted away.

“If you want me to leave, I will.” 

“I want you to not self-medicate with pills and weed and alcohol. I want you to take that advice in that book you’ve been reading seriously. Ben I know you’re going to react badly to this but you have PTSD. Well, I have it to. I’ve lived with it too, for a long fucking time. You’re gonna feel like shit. You’re going to overreact and get pissed and cry for no reason. It’s why I haven’t thrown you out yet. Deep down, I don’t think you try to hurt me because you want to. I think it’s because you’re scared and someone needs to be your punching bag while you learn to handle it.”

“You think I’m going to talk to you about my feelings like some woman? You shove that shit down like a man.” 

“Pretending pain isn’t there doesn’t make it go away. All it does is fester. It won’t heal.”

“Do I look like a fucking chick?” he snapped. “I’m not talking about this, most of all not to you.”

“You don’t have to talk to me Ben.” You stood, braving going to his side of the bed. With a deep breathe you sat beside him, careful not to look him in the face. “You don’t always have to feel the way you do is all. It’s your choice if you want to try or if you want to stay the way you are. I won’t make you change. But you will not get high in my house anymore. You won’t push me around. If you can’t change, then you need to stay somewhere else while we finish our deal.”

You stood, turning for the door when a gentle hand grabbed yours. 

“You’d keep our deal?” You nodded without looking back at him. “Why?”

“Like I said, I won’t betray you. We had a deal and I’ll honor it. You’ve held up your end and I’ll do the same.” 

“Sit.” You slowly sat back on the floor, his hand warm when it nestled over top of yours. Carefully, you risked turning your head. His eyes were resigned, no sign that he’d ever been upset. He pursed his lips, exhaling deeply. Your fingers laced with his, Soldier Boy blinking once.

“You can say whatever it is you want to, Ben.” You stroked over the back of his skin, his head turning down to where your hands sat between you. He reached into his pocket with his free hand, pulling out a bottle of pills. 

“Get rid of them.” You cautiously took the bottle, Ben’s gaze focused on the hardwood floor beneath you. 

“You don’t have to change.”

“Yes I do.” He raised his head, meeting your face with a barely there smile. “Or else I’ll die.”

“You’re not going to die. You basically can’t,” you said. He shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I’m not talking about my body, Y/N. If I don’t change and get with the program, more and more of the world will see me as a relic…something less than human. You give me a pass because you get it but even you barely tolerate me. Either I change or I might as well go back in that damn box because I won’t be considered a person to anyone else anyways. They might as well just think of me as a meat suit at that point.” 

You swallowed, squeezing his hand. “But what do you want? Honestly.”

“I wanted my dad to be proud of me.” He parted his lips, pausing a beat. “I faked a lot but not all of it. I did fight sometimes. I cared about the men I fought with. Some were assholes but some were good guys. I wanted him to know that I was a good guy too. A real man.”

“Ben.” You knew you shouldn’t have but you cupped his cheek, the well over hundred year old looking like a little boy all of a sudden. “He’s a ghost.”

“He was right about me. I am a disappointment. A pussy. I was too damn weak and I wasn’t there for my son and he turned out the same way. Pathetic. You have always been right about me.” He closed his eyes, turning into your touch. “I don’t know what to do. Change and become even weaker? Or stay the same pathetic man I am and live the rest of forever isolated? They’re both horrible choices and I don’t know which to pick.”

You stroked his cheek, Ben breathing deeply. 

“Your father failed you. The time you grew up in failed you. They made you a weak man. But you, Benjamin, for all your faults, on occasion were a real hero. I read that in your file too. You are capable of being a strong man. But you have to let your father, the idea of what it means to be a man, go. You’re not too old to change. You are not insane like your son. He is weak and he always will be but you? Ben, you can be so much stronger than him. If you learn what it’s like to be a man, to own that you made mistakes in the past, you’ll be that person in your head you wish you were. Only when you are him, you’ll be happier. Kinder. You wouldn’t be afraid. I know what path I want you to pick but you have to do this yourself. I can’t pick for you.”

He pushed your hand away and stood up quickly, staring out the back window. You sighed, shifting to stand when suddenly you were on your feet, a loose arm around your waist. It released you, Soldier Boy shoving his hands in his pockets instead. 

“How’d you get over your dad not loving you?” You shrugged, crossing your arms.

“Love comes from the heart, not from blood.” 

“I said that at the end of The Last Payback, when the team rescues me.” You hummed, a soft chuckle in the air. “I thought you said my movies were dumb.”

“They are. People like corny action movies. But I always liked that scene. It didn’t feel fake.” You said.

“There was a time I thought my team was my family. S’why I ad-libbed that line. But I was the neglectful, abusive father to them too, wasn’t I? Turned out just like my daddy, the son of a bitch.” That was a level of openness you were not expecting, Ben closing his eyes. “Kid, you got more faith in me than I do if you think I’ll change. Fuck, I think I’d be a good dad but I’ll probably be exactly like mine was.”

“Soldier Boy, I was in the service for over a decade. Most of that I worked in black ops.” You felt his heated stare on you. He’d worked more than a few of those jobs with the CIA himself. “I was good at my job and people like that, they date in that pool.”

“The ex-boyfriend you went and killed.” You nodded, inhaling sharply.

“I told him I wanted to report my superiors for what they’d done to me when I was younger. I thought I had a support system in him, that he’d have my back, the two of us together reporting such a thing would have a lot of merit. Instead my boyfriend kidnapped me and informed the CIA of my plans. Those officers were too important to be reported on. He was in their little club of awfulness and I was just some dumb whore. He betrayed me, a man I cared for. One I lived with and thought when we got out, we’d have a life together, a family.” You turned your head up at Soldier Boy, his face stoic. “This probably sounds insane to you but you’d make a hell of a better father than he could ever hope to be.”

Ben laughed, shaking his head. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“Because you don’t betray people. You honor your deals and are open about how you actually feel which is more than most people. Someday, you could be that amazing father and let it be the biggest fuck you to your dad you could ever dream of. To me that seems like the best revenge you could dish out to a dead man.” He was quiet as he took off his gloves and removed his vest, setting them on the bench nearby. 

“I need to think this stuff over when I’m not high. And I need a cold shower.” 

“Have you eaten?” you asked as he unzipped the front of his uniform, revealing a bare chest beneath. He tossed the top aside, his strong muscles on full display. 

“No. I’ll make myself something. Don’t worry about me not pulling my weight.” He undid his fly, laughing as you watched him remove his pants. “Well if you want to see the rest you better be taking that shower with me.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, his tone teasing and friendly. “In your dreams, Ben. I’m going to go out and pick up a few things for you, including dinner.”

“Pick up some lube. I’m running low.” You shook your head and gripped the pill bottle tight as you walked out. “Kiddo.” You glanced back, Soldier Boy nodding. “That was quite a bit of money. You’d be better off selling them than chucking them in the trash.”

“How much?”

“Eight hundred.” Your eyes went wide and he winced. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Damn right you’re paying me back. Eight hundred bucks for drugs! Where’d you go? The five start resort of drug dealers?”

“Pain clinic,” he said with a smile. 

“Guess who’s doing manual labor around here for the next, oh, six months?”

“Six months!” he said. You waved your hand as you walked out and into the family room, Ben clearing his throat. You grabbed your wallet and phone, his tall, body leaning against his bedroom door frame. “You really gonna keep me around that long?”

“That’s what you get for stealing my money, grandpa.” He smirked, pushing down his underwear and tossing them over to you. “Dude we have really got to work on your personal space.”

“Sweetie, I’m willing to try and change my whole life. If I want to walk around naked, I’m fucking walking around naked. Figured you’d appreciate the sight.” He flashed you a wink and you flipped him off, grabbing your raincoat. 

“I’ll be back. Try to keep the house in one peace while I’m gone please?”

________

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

[echonvoid]

Disaster twins strike again! This show has fucking fantastic disability/nuerodivergency/queer representation and I adore it!

So, my headcanons after the movie:

Leo:

Suffers from chronic pain and fatigue; has weaker lungs and immune system; and has to use a cane to keep himself steady in case he has a dizzy spell. Uses a c-pap to make sure he breathes when he sleeps; and he has some emergency oxygen tubing that he puts on if he’s really having a hard time breathing.

Has nightmares, ptsd, and frequent panic attacks; all involving weightlessness, falling, or just the feeling of Krang beating the shit outta him.

Often uses compression clothes to help with sensory issues. The whole gang tend to wander around the lair in comfy clothes nowadays. Everyone needs the extra comfort.

Has a real nasty case of tinnitus and wears hearing aides to help with that. I just realize the don’t really have ears, just ear slits. So instead, he wears noise canceling headphones (him and Donnie have a habit of kidnapping each other’s headphones) that donnie has modified to act as hearing aids, filtering in the outside sound

Leo’s Gay as Fuck (I mean Da Vinci is so proud of this boy), and he’s a demi boy. He definitely has adhd and quite the handful of nuerodivergency disorders. Like he has some nasty dyslexia and tonal issues. AMAB pronouns: he/they

Donnie:

Makes a softer battle shell for around the house, but refuses to take it off unless they’re bathing, or slapping some ointment on it. It definitely bubbled and blistered after being attached to the Krang’s nuerotech (he was very proud of coming up with that name); his arms also had a similar nasty rash, but it was no where near as bad.

His eyes glow in the dark, eerie and blank, but quite powerful, they illuminate a good distance around him, but he himself can only see shadows.

His nerves are incredibly rebellious after being merged like that. Sometimes he can’t feel shit, others it’s a weird electrical tingle that passes through, and most often it’s his nerves all feeling like they’re catching on fire. He was used to sensory issues from his nuerodivergency, but this was a fucking whole other level.

He does a lot of data collection and processing over all the shit that they have left over from the Krang attack. It helps him process all the fucking horrors they went through.

Pronouns: He/They. Gender: agender. He’s an aromantic bisexual (or at least bi and somewhere on the aroace spectrum) AFAB

General:

ASL comes back in full force. When Donnie was little there were times he’d go nonverbal (hell, Raph still does go nonverbal when he gets to anxious (Savage Raph)), but he slowly grew outta it. Now, they all have nonverbal days and ASL has become a major part of their speaking. Most of them will sign while speaking outta habit, and not even realize it.

Turtle cuddle piles become the norm; they’ve turned the common area into a huge cushiony pillow fort of sorts. All the good blankets, textures, all of it, they pile in there. There’s also a closet that they transformed into a hideaway cove of sorts for anyone needing to be alone, so then they won’t be too far.

They take a pretty long break from any kind of hero work, at least 6 months. But after that, everyone was on a break. Hell, hypno and warren had brunch with the turtles once a month. They’ve reached a nice frenemy status, and honestly, the couple feels fucking horrible for what went down with the Krang.

Everyone goes to therapy!!! Especially CJ, Draxum, and Splinter; while everyone goes for help processing the attack, these three have trauma that haunts them from long before.

CJ has survivor’s guilt, c-ptsd, and a shitty relationship with food since it wasn’t always available, and the youngest and the fighters always had eating priority. He also fucking hates Draxum, cuz in his timeline Draxum gains a god/savior-complex; he decides that it would be better for the hidden city to be destroyed than for the Krang to have it. Donnie and Raph (while on CJ babysitting) found out, and went to stop him. But he beheaded donnie, in front of 4 year old CJ, then murder-suicided the entire city. Raph managed to get themselves out.

After hearing the devastating news that au him beheaded his own son and destroyed the very thing he swore to protect�� and he wasn’t surprised… Draxum realized he wants to make his kids proud (especially Mikey, who poured so much love into him, even when he didn’t want it) So, he agrees to therapy. With a licensed therapist who wasn’t his child.

There he realizes he was raised in an insane bloodthirsty cult, and he was literally raised to be a child soldier. He spends a long time unlearning the cult mentality he grew up with. (And yes I am very much projecting my own feelings of learning that your parents religious ideology functioned more like a cult than a religion)

Splinter has to deal with his fucking trauma from Big Mama. Like, she abused the fuck outta him and he *still*, to this day, believes she can be fixed/redeemed. He has to unlearn a lot of shit, and his relationship with Draxum (the glorious nebulous divorcée vibes) is far healthier and it helps him better understand the way relationships are supposed to work. Oh, and he learns how to properly process grief and depression.

Anyway, I have lots of post movie feels, and quite a few 2012 crossover notes that I may or may not do something with (don’t worry, no 2012 hate; them characters just need therapy and a huge group huge/cuddle pile)

[seijorhi]

Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you. 

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you. 

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop. 

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes. 

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy. 

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him. 

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before. 

Happy. 

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s  shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle. 

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement. 

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you. 

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.” 

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you. 

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.  

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes. 

 Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground. 

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath. 

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but… 

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin. 

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.” 

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free. 

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit. 

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth. 

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen. 

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come. 

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion. 

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–” 

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you. 

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips… 

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it… 

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him. 

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Soonyoung: Imperfect (Part One)

Characters: Soonyoung x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, a little humor at the end, lots of mentions of sex, lots of mentions of death, a couple implications of suicide but it never actually happened, depression, slapping

Word count: 2,687

Summary: Soonyoung has always been desperate to find his mate, often going out into town at night to fill the void of imprinting that he craves so much. Then suddenly, you (quite literally) appear in front of him. He’d always dreamed and fantasized about what having his mate would be like, but the reality is nothing like he expected.

a/n: things in bold are in english, the part in italics is a flashback/memory, and i would like to state now that at the end, soonyoung’s supposed to be saying reader’s surname (if you already know who his mate is, it makes sense, but it’ll become obvious who it is toward the middle of this part). ((also also the flashback takes place after kyung left her old pack but before she joined hansol’s))

Next | Imperfect Masterlist

Soonyoung and Jihoon went outside to meet Seungcheol, Chan, Suvi, Joshua, and Arinya when they returned. Suvi had her head hung low while the werecoyote kept looking between Joshua and the alpha leading them home. Seungcheol seemed almost tired, Chan looked relieved, and Joshua looked annoyed.

“So,” Jihoon began as the pair approached the small group, “what happened?”

The youngest of the mates had been gone for far too long at the market, so when it started getting dark and they still weren’t home, the three wolves went out to look for them. The whole pack was worried about them, knowing both of them were very naïve. Sure, Ari was pretty tough -- especially compared to the average human -- but Josh knew she wasn’t as tough as a werewolf and still worried about her. Suvi, on the other hand, would be completely defenseless.

“We found a new part of the market and got distracted,” Arinya told them.

“No," Joshua interrupted, looking pointedly down at his mate, “you wandered into a fucking black market.”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows raised in shock, “The what?”

“You two are lucky the wrong people didn’t catch you,” Seungcheol turned to scold them some more -- they’d gotten an earful on the way home, but now that it was brought up again, he decided to keep going. “You could’ve been kidnapped and sold to some creeps, or sedated and had your organs cut out!”

“Seungcheol, they get it,” Chan sighed as his mate snuggled into his side, clearly not liking the sound of the could’ves. “Your first three speeches are already going to give Suvi nightmares.”

The tiny Thai girl just shrugged, “I’ve seen a black market before.”

Joshua’s eyebrows furrowed, giving his mate a strange look, “You say the most disturbing things so nonchalantly.”

She looked up at him, “What do you mean?”

“Let’s save that conversation for when you two get inside,” Soonyoung sighed, “It’s getting late and everyone’s been worried about you two.”

Seungcheol led the way in, but Joshua and Arinya stopped when Jihoon called after them.

“Shua!” he called. “I know you’re upset with her but maybe keep the noise down if you ‘put her in her place’ tonight or whatever.”

Joshua gave him a face and flipped him off as Ari laughed, and the two turned back toward the house and continued walking.

Once the five of them were inside, Jihoon looked up at Soonyoung, who was staring off into the forest. His golden eyes spaced out as he was in thought about the two couples -- especially Josh and Ari. Now that Arinya was learning more about herself, the two were getting intimate a lot more often, and since Ari could take a lot more than Lilly could, Joshua wasn’t necessarily holding back. Needless to say the pair were loud.

On top of that, Arinya was a curious person who did whatever her curiosity led her to do. Josh, on the other hand, was irritable and tired, and often had issues roping his mate in and keeping her in line. That was something that often fueled their sexual activities, meaning they happened often.

“You going out again tonight?” Jihoon asked.

Even though Soonyoung was happy for his brother -- and he felt like he didn’t have to worry about if Joshua would be alive the next day -- having Joshua and Ari finally together was making him feel even more lonely than usual.

“Might as well use all my free time to try to find them, right?” Soonyoung shrugged.

“At least be careful. Don’t get caught by anyone. It would suck if you found your mate tonight but got killed by a hunter in the morning,” Jihoon joked, though Soonyoung could sense some weight to those words.

Soonyoung just shrugged before walking off toward The Capitol, “At least I’d get to make love to them once, and then die happy.”

-

Soonyoung had been frequenting town more often at night since Arinya showed up. He would go pretty often before, but now it was just about every single night. It wasn’t hard to charm people into sleeping with him, either. It was partly because he just needed the release, but it was mostly because he was hoping to somehow find his mate. He had yet to be successful, but at least he could feel like he had that kind of love for a little bit.

Soonyoung wasn’t picky. He didn’t care about gender, race, or anything that really wouldn’t matter when it came to sex. As long as they were of age and consenting, that’s all he really needed.

Humans were easy to persuade, as well. Any sort of kind gesture won them over, and that was no different tonight. Soonyoung went to a bar that he’d been to a few times before, finding one of the men there to be particularly cute. He was only about an inch shorter, with dark hair and green eyes. Soonyoung was pretty sure the guy wasn’t from this country, but he was always fascinated by foreigners.

After a few drinks, Soonyoung ended up back at the man’s house and did what he always did when he was in town. It was nothing particularly special, but he always enjoyed having someone cling to him and moan his name like they cared. But when it was all said and done, Soonyoung departed each house he ended up in, feeling just as empty as when he walked in.

-

Soonyoung was like everything you could’ve asked for. His eyes sparkled when he spoke and turned into cute little crescent moons when he smiled. His laugh warmed up a room no matter how tense it was. His humor was enough to make even the coldest person crack a smile. Soonyoung was just a kind person, and what you needed was someone kind.

But he also didn’t speak your language, nor you his, and that was a problem.

Despite Soonyoung’s warm nature, you hid from him. You kept yourself invisible the entire time he was around your pack, and even after they left when you went after him, unable to stay away. You were just too nervous to reveal yourself until you managed to teach yourself how to hold even half a conversation with him.

While Kyung holed herself up in her room, you needed something to distract yourself since the only person left that you felt closest to wanted to be alone. You went out most days to see what Soonyoung was up to, deciding to focus your mind and heart on him instead of being consumed by the loss of Jiung. Soonyoung typically went into town to explore their new surroundings, and you’d follow behind him. You were sure he could sense your presence – he could smell you, and mates had a very distinct smell that a werewolf could pick out among thousands of people – but he had never laid eyes on you, so he didn’t feel that pull yet.

But you did, and boy, did you feel it hard.

But one day after getting home from following him around the market, the sun already setting, you saw your entire pack was outside. Most of them were in their wolf forms, sniffing the ground and surrounding areas.

“_____!” Hanbin called as he jogged down the steps of the porch to meet you halfway. He stopped in front of you, distress written all over his face.

Your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Kyung?” was all he asked, since he couldn’t really communicate with you either.

Rika had heard him say you had shown up, so she ran over to explain. She looked up at you, concern in her eyes.

“Kyung’s gone,” she told you.

Your heart sank, and your legs suddenly felt like jelly, “W-what?”

Rika handed you a piece of paper, and you quickly took it and scanned the note. It was definitely Kyung’s handwriting, but you couldn’t believe what she had written. She openly said she was betraying you, and she didn’t want to be found. She admitted to abandoning you despite her promise; despite already losing Jiung.

Now, you had lost both of them.

You fell to your knees in the grass, but you were unable to cry. You felt too upset to cry. You were all cried out from losing Jiung, and you couldn’t bring yourself to cry over Kyung. You knew there was no way she just ran off. You knew there was no way she’d just go live on her own. She was running away to die, either by her own hand or waiting until the denial set in.

Instead of sobbing, you began hyperventilating. Your body was shaking and the noises that came from your mouth didn’t seem like they came from you. You were completely numb. You felt disconnected. You felt like none of this could be real.

This was your worst nightmare.

“_____.”

You blinked, still staring at the wall, but you were pulled from your thoughts. Your eyes glanced over to the door where the voice had come from. When you didn’t answer, they knocked softly on the door three times.

“_____,” Rika’s voice said from the other side, “Hanbin’s worried about you. Please open the door.”

You still didn’t reply.

You’d just gotten back from your trip back home. You thought visiting home would help you -- your pack thought it would, too -- but it didn’t really do much. You visited places you used to go with your family, but that only made you miss them instead. Then that reminded you of the heartache of losing two of the only family you had now. Your blood family had died shortly before Kyung and Jiung found you, so you didn’t have much to go back to when you went to visit. 

Still, you stayed for a couple months. You thought maybe letting yourself grieve would help, visiting the place your family was buried. You let yourself cry over Kyung and Jiung. You let yourself do whatever you felt right, being on your own for somewhere between 2 and 3 months -- you weren’t really sure, to be honest. There was even a period of time that you spend multiple weeks in your wolf form, just living in the forest. You weren’t really sure what you were trying to do to cope, but you also knew you weren’t necessarily in your right mind.

But you’d gotten home three days ago, and not only had you not left your room, but you hadn’t even unpacked. You’d just been laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and not feeling any better. And it didn’t help that the pack still hadn’t found Kyung’s body. Nobody knew what happened to her.

“Look,” she sighed, trying to level with you, “I can’t say I completely understand how you feel. I’ve never lost a sibling, and I know you saw Jiung and Kyung like that. They basically adopted you into their little family. But...I know how it feels to lose someone really important to you. When Minho died... I know you don’t want to hear this because you said going home didn’t help, but sitting here is going to make you feel worse. At least go out for a walk. Get some fresh air for an hour at least.”

You didn’t necessarily want to leave the house, but you figured you could at least go be depressed somewhere that people wouldn’t nag you about it. Plus, you were nervous that they might start trying to use Baekhan against you. So you begrudgingly got out of bed and slowly opened your door, looking down at Rika. She perked up immediately seeing you, flashing you a bright smile.

You ignored it, brushing by her and disappearing before her eyes before you went down the stairs.

Her smile fell as she watched, letting out a sigh.

-

The market was essentially the same. Some shops might’ve been different or had shifted around, but it was still just...the market. It was busy with people, it was loud, and it still didn’t make you feel any better. You found yourself recalling memories of being there with Jiung and Kyung instead of finding distractions. The time Jiung almost broke the jewelry stand from leaning on the rotting wood. When Kyung did a ‘magic trick’ for some of the local kids and lit a candle from thin air. When Jiung carried you on his back because you were racing toward the fudge counter and you’d twisted your ankle -- it wasn’t even a major injury but he just felt bad.

The more you walked through the market, the more memories that popped into your head, and the more you wanted to turn around and go home. And you would’ve had you not spotted a couple of familiar faces.

“That took a long fucking time,” Joshua scoffed, nudging Hansol. “At least it’s gone now, I guess.”

“Yeah, that was a slow process,” Hansol nodded, adjusting his shirt.

“Did it hurt?” a short girl with icy blue eyes asked.

Hansol shook his head, “No, not at all. I mean, my back was sore, but the silver leaving wasn’t painful.”

Hansol was alive. If Kyung had denied him, he would’ve died by now, right? It usually took around a month, but even if it took longer, this was much longer than a month. So she must still be out there somewhere. He had to know something about Kyung then, right? 

You started following the trio, following them out of the market and toward their home, keeping far back enough that they wouldn’t be tipped off. You did manage to gather that the girl’s name was Ari and she appeared to be Joshua’s mate. You were also pretty sure she wasn’t completely human, but you couldn’t place what exactly she was. But she had Joshua’s mark on her.

Hansol also had marks on him, and he wreaked of Kyung.

Once at the house, you tried to get closer to see inside when they opened the door. But you didn’t even need to see in their house to know if Kyung was in there because you could distinctly pick her voice out.

“How’d your appointment go?” she asked.

You bolted in, managing to get inside between Hansol and the mated pair. You were visible right before your body hit Kyung’s, the two of you somersaulting backwards once before you were on top of her, straddling the girl.

Her eyes widened, “_____?!”

The pack was dead silent, watching the scene in both shock and confusion.

Your hands gripped her collar and brought her to sit up, wrapping your arms around her tightly, “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!”

“_____, I’m so--”

You let her go, her torso hitting the hardwood with a thud before you slapped her straight across the face, cutting off whatever she was going to say. Her eyes widened again as she stayed frozen with her head turned, trying to process everything that was happening to suddenly.

“Ooh...” Jooyeon said under her breath as a few members of the pack inhaled sharply at the loudness of the slap that echoed through the house.

“How the fuck could you do that to me?! To the pack?!” you demanded. “They all still think you’re dead!”

She didn’t even say anything. She just looked up at you, bringing her left hand up to her cheek that you’d slapped.

What finally broke the silence was two footsteps, and a soft, “Whoa...”

You turned around to see none other than the alpha you’d imprinted on. His scent was mixed with another strong scent that you were unfamiliar with, but the look on his face made your heart flutter. You’d never seen anyone look so lovestruck before.

Soonyoung was elated. He never thought he’d find his mate, let alone that he’d stumble home one morning to find them sitting in the middle of his house. But here you were, and as soon as he saw you, he was head-over-heels for you.

He gave you a lopsided smile and said, “So you’re _____.”

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

blitz reacting to y/n getting kidnapped/tricked by someone pretending to be him after a fight they had?

Blitzø's reaction to his S/O kidnapped by a fraudster.

You and Blitzø rarely had a serious fight, but when you did, you went of the fucking rails.

The two of you would scream at each other until one of you went too far. And more often then not, it was Blitzø, causing you to run out of the apartment.

It had been a bad fight, the two of you going back and forth until Blitzø said something he he really shouldn't have, and instantly regretted it.

But instead of storming out like you normally did, you stared at him coldly, tears forming in your eyes before walked away, quietly closing the door behind you.

Blitzø was frozen stiff, cold dread filled his chest as he had a internal war to decide if he should go after you.

Normally when you'd have a fight like this, you'd run to Millie, the Fem-fetal being your closest friend, other then him of course. Where you'd spend a few days at there place until Blitzø would inevitably come for you, apologising profusely and begging for your forgiveness.

But the next day, when he went to work and found Millie & Moxxie he asked about you, but... they hadn't seen you.

That sent Blitzø into a full blown panick fuelled frenzy, freaking the fuck out.

It was only with the full I.M.P did he manage to calm down, his family promising to help him find you.

But before they could figure out where to start, he got a call.

It was your number, the Imp filling with releaf. He answered the call, already apologising and asking you to forgive him.

But he was quickly cut off, by... himself?

It was someone who sounded just like him.

They taunted him, telling him how he must be nervous, panicking about missing you.

Blitzø snapped at the guy, demanding to know where you were. Only to get snapped back at by the phony, the fake telling him you weren't his, he wasn't even him and he'd prove it.

He gave Blitzø a time and place, telling him to be there quickly or he'd never see you again.

So he rushed his ass to that location, running his ass off to the location. He arrived, only to find a Hellphone sitting on the ground, getting a call upon arrival.

It was his phony, telling him another location and time.

So Blitzø rushed too it again, this time finding a worn out payphone. It took a minute, but he got a call, the phony telling him another location.

This time however he demanded to know you were alright, saying he wouldn't take another step until he heard your voice.

There was a long pause before he heard your voice, "B-Blitzø." You stuttered, sounding terrified. "I-I don't know what's going on"

"Baby, I'm so sorry, I swear I'll get you back." He told you, but before he could continue the phony came back, telling him the time and location again, telling him he should hurry up.

He got to it as fast as possible, this time not finding anything off note, he search around for anything.

But as he heard something, he was attacked from behind, being knocked unconscious.

He awoke in an old where house, realising he was bound, looking around before he found you strapped to a chair.

He tried to free himself, desperately trying to get to you. But as he did so, he felt someone grab him by the horns, throwing him away away from you.

"You don't get to look at him, you fake!" They yelled at him.

Getting his bearings, he looked up, finding an Imp that looked like a cheap knock-off, of well... Him!

The knock-off began raving on and on about how he'd finally prove himself, how he was the original.

Sitting up he tried to interrogate the knock-off, asking him why he was doing this.

The knock-off looked deranged, telling him to Shut Up!

He told Blitzø he was just a fake, a phony, someone trying to steal what was his. And that's when he approached you. You didn't seem hurt, but were clearly unconscious as the phony approached.

He pet your cheek, telling him you were meant to be with him, but he had stolen you by pretending to be him.

By this point it was clear the guy was a total fucking nut job, and he didn't really have a grasp on reality.

He went on about how you were his and Blitzø had stolen you by pretending to be him. How he'd tried to get your attention for so long, and now he had his chance to prove he was true.

The Not-Blitzø turned to him, knife brandished as he went off on him like a fucking nut bag.

And then you woke up, letting out a gentle mumble.

You took a while to wake up, looking around you clearly freaked out.

The Not-Blitzø turned to you, and Blitzø snapped telling him to stay away from you.

But stay away he did not, moving in close he gently stroked your cheek. He told you "He was your one true love" and Blitzø was a fraud, a fake and he'd "saved you from."

He told you about how he knew all about how the 'fake' Blitzø had said those terrible things to you.

He brought up an intimate list of things you had fought over, the things you found annoying about Blitzø.

But he assured you, he would never be like that. He was the true Blitzø and he would never, ever treat you like that.

You just stared at the phony for a moment, looking between him and the Not-Blitzø. Then staring at him for a long moment, Blitzø just staring back.

Looking up at the Not-Blitzø, you... smiled?!

You smiled up at him, thanking him for saving you from the 'Fake' Blitzø.

The phony was overjoyed as you got the Not-Blitzø to let you free. Pulling him close you kissed him gently, the Imp clearly desperate for your affection.

Asking for the knife, you told him you'd end your little 'problem' for the both of them, turning to him.

He pleaded with you, desperately telling you he was sorry, sorry for everything he said. Sorry for always being such an ass, but he loved you.

You told him it really hurt when he said what he said. And you really questioned your relationship after that.

But as much as it hurt, you still loved him. And with that you turned and planted the knife in Not-Blitzøs neck.

The Not-Blitzø sputtered up blood, desperately clinging to you, releasing a string of rather pathetic whimpers before he finally died.

Standing up, you walked over and undid his bindings.

The Imp instantly pulled you close, holding you close as he desperately apologised for everything, for being such an asshole.

You were quiet for a minute, looking rather cold before a gentle smile crossed your lips, pulling him close and kissing him.

You told him you forgave him, telling him it was alright.

You spent a moment to look over the phony.

You told him as crazy as the phony was... he was so desperate to prove he belonged together, the Imp was so... alone. So desperate for comfort or affection.

If he hadn't kidnapped you, you actually felt sorry for him.

After a moment, you walked out of the little where house he'd kept you in.

You telling him you were happy to be stuck with the usual crazy Blitzø, over the Really Crazy Blitzø.

That made Blitzø laugh, pulling you close and giving you a kiss.

Unfortunately, after all that, you had nightmares for the next few months.

Each one always about Blitzø & the Not-Blitzø. You always waking up before thoroughly searching his whole body to prove he was the real Blitzø.

They were random, sometimes going for weeks without an incident, before having a few in a week.

But each time Blitzø held you close, assuring you he was himself, each time you always calming down, comforted by your loves gentle kisses and assurances of love, until you drifted back to sleep.

And true to his word, Blitzø really did his best to fix the little issues that most often spawned your conflicts, you always made sure to show your appreciation with little gestures like a kiss or hug, whispering little thank yous.

Hey Hey, early post. I'll be working on my side project for a while, so thought I'd put this out now. Hope you enjoyed the story. Bye Bye.