#event: back to basics

[sam-sessington-the-third]

outbrust

[suosage]

Ｉ ＷＡＳ ＨＡＰＰＹ．

NAGI SEISHIROU; 05.06 Birthday 2025

[scribefindegil]

been thinking about Disability As Bad Timeline Marker recently, and how I'm not super mad about it or anything bc it tends to happen in tandem with "there was a terrible accident" and making the terrible accident Not Happen is better for everyone pretty objectively

but also I need instances of "the future where someone is disabled and you can't fix it because that's just what human bodies do sometimes"

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

am I getting too convoluted if I said Johnny dies Dallas lives n Pony loses his hearing as a result of the way Dallas hits him (to put out the fire) when he pulls him out of the church au??

[erinwantstowrite]

yknow briefly i wanted to have one of peter's silly villains show up in gotham. it was that they found out spider-man went missing and they went looking for him (cause currently in the LoF timeline Peter's dynamic with his villains is a very mutual goofing around 99% of the time), and they got into a scrap with Ohnn, got pulled into gotham, decided to fuck around until they saw Ohnn again, and immediately spider-man showed up to the scene and was like "what are you doing here!?" to which they'd have given him an enthusiastic greeting. but that was way back with LoF was gonna be 15 chapters. my homage to that was Thor showing up, in a way. which btw i realized I haven't said anything here yet??? but this Loki thing is in fact hinting at the reason their timeline is different and Thanos doesn't happen. except it's mostly there for readers to speculate and draw their own conclusions with, as it's just a background thing since we're not really here for that

[steviesbicrisis]

Steve’s best relationship wasn’t even a relationship. He could barely call it a fling, a flirt. They never even went on a date. They never kissed.

Steve still thinks of it as the best whatever-it-is he has ever had with someone.

At the beginning it was mostly infuriating, how quickly Eddie managed to win the kids over, compared to Steve’s months of work as babysitter/nailbat swinger/monster fighter. Steve had to literally bleed multiple times to get an ounce of respect, Eddie only had to run a nerdy club about fictional bleeding and monster-fighting.

Then somehow, and Steve still has trouble pinpointing when and how it happened, everything changed.

Taking the kids back home from hellfire became something he impatiently waited for.

He and Eddie would barely talk for a few minutes and he would find himself replaying the conversation in his head for days. Anything he could say to get a reaction out of Eddie became fundamental, and if he started by picking subjects to piss him off, he ended learning about Eddie’s favorites, because few minutes after hellfire were never enough and Steve needed Eddie to talk as much as possible, until the kids were begging to drop it and go home.

Steve never questioned the change, most likely out of fear. He doesn’t think he ever was clueless, just really scared about what would potentially mean to be staring at another dude’s eyelashes as he goes on a rant about why Ozzy Osbourne is the best artist of his generation. Or blush whenever said dude would call him “baby”, or “sweetheart”.

Steve convinced himself that the thing he and Eddie were having was as good as it was going to get, nothing more.

Then Chrissy Cunningham died, Eddie ran, and Steve realized that the thing will never be enough for him.

He couldn’t not have Eddie. Not watch him as he entertains a bunch of freshmen, as he stomps with his worn out sneakers on top of forniture, as he puts his terrible music on to push away anyone who doesn’t care enough about him to stay.

Steve needed to see Eddie being alive, doing what his heart desires, and he needed to be next to him when he does.

Obviously, this realization came at the worst possible time.

Steve tried to tell him so many times: when they found him at the boathouse, when he was hiding at refer Rick’s house, when they were taking a stroll in the upside down, and even when they were driving a stolen trailer to a gunshop.

But, it seemed, Eddie had come to a realization just as important and he tried his best to avoid Steve at every given chance.

Steve tried to initiate the conversation as Eddie did his best to run away from it. And he ran until Steve had no chances left to tell him how he actually felt.

———

Steve doesn’t know if he’s allowed to say he lost something he never had. To mourn a relationship he never began. A partner that, technically, never became a partner.

After Eddie dies, Steve has no one to be next to but he can’t say he ever did.

Steve just exists waiting. He can’t tell if he’s waiting for the pain to go away or for Eddie to jump out of a bush and yell “ah! I got you sucker!! By the way, I’m in love with you too.”

For obvious reasons, that never happens.

What does happen, is a call.

It’s a normal Tuesday, as normal as you could define it after Hawkins almost collapsed into the upside down. Steve got into a routine, between checking on the ones at the hospital, helping out at the shelter, allowing Robin to check on him to see if he’s still alive.

The call happens while Robin is doing her kitchen check up - aka making sure he has food and that he’s eating it-, so she picks the phone like she did a million times before.

“Harrington residence, this is Robin” she says, cheerfully.

Steve doesn’t pay much attention to it as he’s folding his dad’s old clothes that intends to donate to the shelter, until he hears Robin’s loud gasp.

“What is it? Is it the hospital? Is it Max?” He rushes to the other room where Robin is.

She doesn’t answer but she gives him a look as she passes him the receiver.

Steve goes quiet, a million thoughts going through his head as he takes the phone from Robin.

He’s still unprepared when he hears that unmistakable voice “Baby”.

Steve gasps for breath “Eddie?”

Is that really you? What happened? Are you hurt? Isn’t this impossible? Is what goes on in Steve’s head, but he ends up just asking “are you okay?”

He can hear a chuckle, Eddie’s wicked chuckle, a further confirmation that it is him, “I’m- hanging in there… are you okay?”

Steve finds the question absurd. He isn’t the one who got left in the upside down, the one that got eaten by demonic bats, the one who died before Steve had the chance to tell him how he felt.

He answers truthfully nonetheless, “I’m… I’m not okay.”

“I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Please Eddie, come quick.”

“I’ll break the sound barrier for you.”

[steviewashere]

Another little WIP Snippet, except this time it's from the start of my second part in my text fic universe. Things get a little meta and a little wild all in one.

CW: Referenced Omegaverse/Aspects of Omegaverse (this is not an omegaverse fic though)

————— Eddie: stevie i’m gonna write fan fic about us <33

Steve: Do I wanna know what fanfic is?

Eddie: for the sake of my brain I need you to just pretend to know..ok?

Steve: Fine. Sure. Whatever.

Steve: So…are you writing about us going to see a movie or something?

Seen less than 1 minute ago

Eddie: mmmmm or something………

Steve: Oh god, what are you doing?

Eddie: sex :3

Eddie: animal style :D

Seen 5 minutes ago

Eddie: do you think you’re more alpha or omega or a beta???

Eddie: this is important information to me

Eddie: I need you to respond now

Steve: Isn’t that alpha stuff just stupid shit that conservative cucks argue about online?

Steve: Where they try to compare themself to Patrick Bateman as if that’s a good thing?

Eddie: …yes…but that’s not what I’m talking about right now.

Eddie: basically do you think youre more

Eddie: …actually

Eddie: don’t answer any of my questions right now I’m taking this into my own hands

Steve: I think I just felt a disturbance in the force. What the fuck are you about to do to me?

Eddie: well you want six kids somehow

Seen less than 1 minute ago

Steve: Eddie…

Eddie: :3

Eddie: youre gonna be bouncing on my knot

Steve: What the fuck does THAT mean?

Eddie: shhhhhhh….daddy says that kitten doesn’t need to worry about that right meow

Steve: Don’t call me that.

Steve: Also. If anybody’s any sort of daddy in this relationship it’s me and I think you know that.

Steve: Also also. You saying that pun gave me the ick.

Seen less than 1 minute ago

Eddie: Who the fuck taught you what the ick means?

Eddie: I’ve never heard you say those series of words ever. In my life. You have never. And I mean never. Said that to me ever.

Eddie: Are you online?

Eddie: Are you lurking somewhere online?

Seen less than 1 minute ago

Steve: …

Steve: Robin forced me to download TikTok.

Steve: The shopping menu is bullshit and super invasive.

Steve: But also people on there are funny.

Steve: And also there’s people on there who share facts about praying mantises and sharks and I didn’t know I could learn so many facts, but I’m having the time of my life. Did you know that hammerheads go hunting by themselves? So, because they’re carnivores, they hunt down other sea wildlife. And they can dig through the sand on the ocean floor to find stingrays to eat. Also, great hammerheads—which is what I’ve been talking about—they have pups once every two years or something and can have, like, fifty of them in one litter! Live pups, too! Not eggs! They don’t lay eggs like other fish do, like clown fish, you know? Isn’t that crazy?! That’s crazy!

Steve: Well…smooth hammerheads have up to fifty, last I heard. Great hammerheads can have, like, up to forty-two. But that’s still a crazy number!

Steve: Imagine having that many children at once?

Steve: I can’t even handle the seven I accidentally picked up over the last few years! They’re not even my children!

Seen just now

Eddie: can you come home from the gym and talk more shark facts with me

Eddie: I love when you talk about sharks

Steve: You should make me talk about shark facts in that fanfic thing of yours.

Eddie: come home and give me an in person example of you talking about sharks. I wanna get the gleam in your eyes when I write about you.

Steve: Okay ❤️

Eddie: I love you so fucking much

Steve: I love you too

Delivered 10 minutes ago

Steve: Also, I looked up what you were asking me.

Steve: You should make both of us alphas. And then you should…hold on I have to look it up again.

Steve: You should “bitch” me. Wow, that sounds really derogatory. Is that derogatory? Side note, how many feminists do you think are into this omegaverse stuff? Do they “get the ick” when reading about bitching or is it like a secretly sexy thing to them that they’re too ashamed to admit out loud?

Steve: Okay, I’m reading some…some Arcane Jayce/Viktor thing on my phone right now and I think you should definitely still “bitch” me. The way this bitching thing works changes so much from story to story, I don’t even know what’s lore accurate to the omegaverse or what’s just people’s kinks taking on new shape.

Steve: But you should do it me on, like, accident. And I should be kinda mad at first, but then I realize that I love the new version of myself. Like so much more than I loved my previous self. And that I am happier in my new body and stuff. And you should delicately eat me out because you’re still nervous about fucking up with me, but then I yank you by the hair and make you choke on my “slick”—why is it called that; I don’t think I like that part very much, but whatever. And I’m all euphoric and shit.

Steve: And then I have a pussy like I was destined to have.

Steve: Okay, some of this stuff is so cool. Also, there’s some depressing stuff in this ship’s tag.

Seen just now

Eddie: got a boner too fast. Nosebleed.

Eddie: also. babe, I think you might have something to work through, maybe.

Eddie: and also I feel like I just created a monster. are you reading fics right now instead of coming home?

Steve: I’m eating a cheesy Gordita crunch in my car while reading and sipping on my large ass Baja blast. So…yeah, I guess.

Steve: I’ll be done soon, though. It’ll be fine.

Delivered 2 hours ago

Eddie: so are you coming home now?? do I need to report you missing???

Steve: Do NOT read the playlist jayvik fic. Do not do it. Oh my god. I’m gonna throw up from crying I am not okay right now.

Eddie: oh no you discovered it

Eddie: just…just get yourself calmed and come home when you can please don’t drive with tears in your eyes I don’t need you dying

Delivered just now

Steve: You are not allowed to kill either of us in your fanfic.

Steve: But I still want you to do that bitching thing.

Steve: Please.

Eddie: I don’t wanna push you in any sort of way…but do you think that we should maybe have a conversation about why you’re so fascinated with that part?? It’s starting to not sound like a kink.

Eddie: in fact, I feel like I have it on good authority that this wasn’t a kink to start with.

Steve: Maybe, but I’ve gotta focus on driving now, so I’m not worried about any of that stuff right now. Bringing you a Doritos taco. And your piss colored Mtn Dew.

Steve: You should suck my dick when I get home to make me feel better.

Steve: After you eat and brush your teeth, though. I don’t need nacho cheese powder on my dick.

Delivered just now

—————

[bringbackmyteenageyears]

Christina Aguilera in her Back to Basics era

[pestopastaenjoyer]

“Advance takes place before both adventure games!!1!!11” my brother in Christ. If this was supposedly set before sa2 then why would Sonic stay Super in space by himself for DAYS & come back w a solemn expression before smiling at the player to congratulate them for beating the game

[hey-hey-j]

young dumb 20-somethings

(★ my Kofi)

[eclown4hire]

Granny is a crazy:B fan!

[doodlingwren]

"I depend on you..." "Do I or do you?"

My take on the "I depend on you" art trend from Twitter✨ Every now and then I want to draw something with bright colors... and blood

[front-facing-pokemon]

[memento-morri-writes]

Rook's Horrible, Very Bad, No-Good Day

(Aka, just one part of Rook's first Horrible, Very Bad, No-Good Weekend. (he's had two of those.))

I posted a small portion of this yesterday, but I'm just so obsessed with this scene, and I figured it's time I shared a slightly more complete version of it so you guys have a little bit more context. There's actually a lot more because a whole 'nother very intense conversation happened after this one, but that's for anther time. Enjoy getting stabbed in the heart several times in quick succession! pov: Rook wordcount: 1.7k character(s): The Liars [Rook (D&D), Sigmar (NPC)] canon status: canon session rewrite trigger warnings: mentions of death, suicidal behavior, and self-harm; implied self-sacrifice. (yk, usual Rook stuff.) summary: Rook wakes up after collapsing in the middle of a tavern. His mentor, Sigmar, interrogates him about the circumstances leading to his collapse. Note: I can only take credit for some of this, since the dialogue is as close to a direct transcript of the dnd session as I could manage. You can thank my amazing DM for all of Sigmar's gut punches here.

Rook comes to consciousness slowly, his mind fuzzy from sleep. He slowly opens his eyes, blinking them several times before he registers a wood-beamed ceiling. Where is he? He raises his head ever-so-slightly, looking around. The room comes into focus, semi-familiar. This is his room at the tavern. He has no memory of going to bed. The last thing he remembers is entering the tavern after the fight, and then…

Footsteps draw his attention away from that mystery. “Rook, you’re awake!” Sigmar rushes over to Rook’s bedside, relief clearly visible on his face. “You were out for twelve hours.” Seeing the question forming on Rook’s face he adds, “You fainted last night. It was… concerning to say the least.”

Rook slowly sits up as Sigmar continues talking. “What happened to you? I knew things were rough for you after we talked on the way here but the way you looked last night… you’re lucky to be alive.”

“I wasn’t.” The words are off his tongue and out of his mouth before Rook can process what he’s saying. “I wasn’t, yesterday.”

Sigmar peers closer at Rook, concern mounting on his face. “You weren’t what,  Rook.”

Again, he speaks without thinking. “Alive. I wasn’t alive yesterday.”

The color drains from Sigmar’s face. “What do you mean? What do you mean you weren’t alive yesterday?” 

Rook is taken aback by the forcefulness in Sigmar’s voice. Why does he sound so worried? Slowly, parsing out the words to keep from stumbling over them, he says, “Wolf sent an assassin after me. She succeeded.”

Sigmar’s brow furrows and his voice get louder. “Why didn’t you tell me?” When Rook doesn’t respond he adds, “Who saved you?”

“Aki. At least, I think it was him. I woke up and he was next to me.”

A flash of surprise crosses Sigmar’s face before vanishing, obscured by a new wave of concern. “What caused this? You looked terrible last night.” There’s a thread of something that sounds vaguely like fear in Sigmar’s voice as he says it, which catches Rook by surprise.

Rook takes a long moment to think. He can’t tell Sigmar the truth, at least not the whole truth. He’d tell the rest of the party immediately, and they’d all be in danger again. Rook settles on a partial truth. 

“I haven’t been sleeping.” He thinks hard, trying to remember the details. “I don’t think I’ve slept more than a couple of hours in the past two weeks.”

Sigmar’s jaw drops. “With that little sleep, you’re lucky to be alive.” He looks at Rook closely, inspecting his face. Rook shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. “What has been keeping you from sleeping?”

Again Rook pauses, taking a moment to consider his answer. “I don’t know. I can’t fall asleep and when I do I wake up again shortly after.”

Sigmar narrows his eyes. “I’ve told you: you and I are the same. We’re both liars. So don’t lie to me.”

An answer pops into Rook’s head and he puts conviction behind it, laying on false hesitation as if he’s revealing a big secret. “It’s Captain Wolf. Ever since I ran into her again, I haven’t been able to sleep. I keep having nightmares. About her.”

Sigmar stares at Rook for a long moment before seeming to accept the answer. A sense of relief floods Rook’s body. His secret is safe, for now. 

“Why are you doing this?” Sigmar asks, breaking the silence.

Rook blinks at him, uncomprehending. “Doing what? Coming to Torsek?”

Sigmar nods. “You’ve been pushing yourself to your limits, throwing your life on the line over and over again. Why? You’re endangering yourself, you’ve even died,”  Rook could have sworn he heard Sigmar’s voice waver on that word. “But you keep doing it. What could possibly be worth that?”

An answer leaps to Rook’s lips. “Because they need me.” It comes out quietly, but seems deafening in the empty room.

Sigmar leans back slightly, eyes widening in surprise. He looks Rook up and down, as if he’s reevaluating him. 

Without thinking, Rook adds, “You’re one of them.”

Sigmar, who has opened his mouth to speak, closes it again. He regards Rook for a long time. Eventually he says, “Your motivations may be more noble than mine, but at heart we act for the same reasons. I know you have not felt the care of a parent the same way I did…” He trails off momentarily, then continues, “But you are desperate for love all the same. I do everything in hopes of someday committing an act that will make the world love me. You, you act in hopes that the Vanguard will love you.” He looks Rook directly in the eyes, face serious. “You’re a fool.”

Rook says nothing, unable to summon up any kind of response to that statement. Sigmar continues, “The Vanguard does nothing but show you love, try to help you. They attempt to show you their love over, and over again. But you refuse to accept it.”

The words hit Rook like a slap, and he opens his mouth to retort, but Sigmar pushes ahead. “Instead of accepting their love, you throw yourself recklessly into danger, putting your life on the line again and again. You’re killing yourself, Rook.”

Rook’s eyes blaze with anger. He isn’t killing himself at all. He doesn’t want to die, far from it. He fights viciously for his life in every battle. He snaps back, “I’m not killing myself.”

Sigmar’s reply is swift and painful, like a bullet from his gun. “You might as well be.”

Rook finds himself speechless. What the hell is Sigmar talking about? He crosses his arms and turns away, refusing to meet the other man’s gaze.

A long silence stretches between them. Sigmar finally breaks it by saying, “I’ll help you. I just need to know that you’re telling me the truth.” His voice is surprisingly gentle, much softer than the whip-like tone from a moment earlier. 

Rook looks up at him. “I am telling the truth.” 

Sigmar frowns. “Rook, I told you, don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!”

“You are. I know your tells.”

Arms still firmly crossed, Rook keeps his gaze fixed on the floor. He won’t – can’t – tell Sigmar the truth. 

Sigmar seems to realize that Rook plans to stay silent, and sighs. “I can start listing off my theories. My ideas as to what’s keeping you from sleeping.”

Rook says nothing, still looking at the floor. His eyes follow the grain of the wood as it meanders through the planks.

“Did Maka do this to you?”

Before he can stop himself, Rook’s head whips upwards, mouth falling open in shock. “What? No!” 

Sigmar merely nods, and Rook is hit with a sudden feeling that he may have just played right into Sigmar’s trap. Rook turns away again, trying to find the same grain on the same plank he had been before Sigmar had spoken.

“I’ve felt the same symptoms as you are now, but lesser, once before. Do you still bear Furicifer’s curse?”

A chill runs down Rook’s spine. He forces his voice to stay steady and calm as he says “Furicifer was banished. He’s gone.”

Sigmar is silent for a long moment, and Rook’s heart begins to race. Surely Sigmar will believe that. It’s not far off from the truth.

When Sigmar speaks, it almost knocks the air from Rook’s lungs. “I told you not to lie to me.” His voice is deadly serious, simmering with anger. As he begins to speak again, it grows in intensity, though still quiet. “What in the gods’ names were you thinking? We need to get rid of him.”

Rook interrupts him, voice firm. “I can’t. If I lose this curse, Furicifer is free to return to the material plane.”

Sigmar shakes his head. “We’ll find a better demonologist. Someone stronger than this Dr. Zayeed.”

Without thinking, Rook blurts out, “You promised you’d help me!”

Sigmar immediately falls silent, looking at him. His face is a mixture of sadness, concern, and something else that Rook can’t quite read. He stares at Rook until Rook grows uncomfortable, looking away. “I have two options here. I can enable you, help you continue to hide this from the rest of the party. Or I can tell them. Let them try and talk some sense into you.”

“I can’t.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you can. Tell the party and-”

“I can’t.” Rook’s voice shakes, but his tone is determined. 

“Why not?” Sigmar snaps back.

“It was them or me.” The words are out too fast, and Rook regrets them the minute they’re out. But he looks up, meeting Sigmar’s gaze. He says again, softer, but more steady, “It was them or me.”

A long silence passes, and Rook eventually looks away. He stares at the ground for  a long, long time, before he sees something enter his field of vision. Sigmar’s hand, holding one of the pills he’d made. Rook looks up at him, surprised. “Take it.” Slowly, Rook reaches out and grabs the pill. 

He swallows it quickly, downing it before the taste can manifest on his tongue. Energy floods his body. Though he feels miles better than the day before, he hadn’t realized how much exhaustion still lingered in his body. 

Sigmar grabs a pouch, presumably holding the other pills in it, and holds it out to him. Rook reaches for it, but Sigmar pulls it back. “I’ll help you on one condition.” Rook stares at him, but says nothing. “If your condition worsens again, I’m telling the party. And if you’re in your right mind, you’ll be telling them too.”

Rook’s shoulder slump in defeat. He needs the medicine desperately. He looks down at the floor again as he says, barely louder than a whisper, “Fine.”

Sigmar places the pouch in his hand and turns towards the door. “The rest of the party will want to see you.” 

As he reaches the door, hand on the knob, Rook speaks. “Thank you.” The words are quiet, but genuine, tinged by the weight of Rook’s desperation. Sigmar’s hand hesitates on the doorknob, but he doesn’t reply or turn back before he opens the door. As he walks off down the hall, Rook can hear him calling out to the party, “Rook’s awake.”

[ace4thespades]

Every time you look at your reflection, I shall stare back.

Show fake concern, let you be vulnerable towards me as i copy and morph your features, every single detail into mine until i am the same as you.

Stare too long in the mirror, and you forget yourself and your appearance, and then i shall take your place,

forever.

- 🩸🪞 Anon

(ooc: PLEASEEEE TELL ME YOU KNOW WHICH URBAN MYTH AM BASED OFF, I CAN'T KEEP BEING CALLED BLOODY MIRROR..)

That’s . . . reassuring.

[bubble-jasmine]

I feel like the writing in this game would instantly improve around the middle/endgame if Bachikin was allowed to cuss out Sigkin at length.

(At any point really, but especially after either battle with Jungle or after he drops the whole “yeah they have the Homobi robots because I gave them the blueprints and traumatized all those kids years ago. Anyways-”)