#here's my fucking rent

[essektheylyss]

It is WILD to me how many people just loudly broadcast their intention to scab, as if that isn't the fastest way to brand yourself as someone who will throw anyone else to the wolves in an industry that runs on collaboration, so every writer say it with me

[howlsnteeth]

💢💢💢

[katabay]

original thief series basso & garrett :)

ngl, it's about quality over quantity for me. an npc can have a total of three minutes of screen time, but if they have a cool name, they can live rent free in my head and I'll spend several hours trying to decipher drawable features from a blurry screenshot of pixels

there is a vague hint of a story here, and that's because every time I try to play thi4f, I get incredibly frustrated with how Not Fun the game play is. like, is the story good? well. but it has a PLAGUE. that should've given it instant 'I'll replay this once a year' status in my heart, but the game play sucks so bad that I've never finished it. I can't believe Not Fun gameplay beat out my obsession with narrative plagues.

anyway, the idea is basically if the original era had a game with a plague centric narrative and some other stuff I liked out of thi4f thrown into a narrative blender, with a heavy dash of horror thrown in because some parts of the thief games were scarier to me than entire dedicated horror genre games.

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app

[naofina]

Red Moon

[skitskatdacat63]

This photo was life-ruining for me(and @sweatyflytrap ) honestly....

[blossomwritesthings]

{ 𝟐𝟑:𝟒𝟏 } — 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

18+ content ahead. minors dni.

phone sex. softdom!jisung // sub!femreader. praise. teasing. fingering. sex toys (vibrator). jerking off. breast/nipple play. pet names. dirty talk.

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

At one point, you just began to loose count of how many days he had been gone. 

  Your boyfriend Jisung had been on tour with Stray Kids for the past few months, traveling from one country to the next. And it seemed like every day that passed, you started to forget the feeling of him. 

  Of how it felt to wake up next to him every single morning. Of how it felt to be held by him late into the night. Of how it felt to smell his scent on every part of your shared apartment. 

  But at least your daily phone calls were still a thing between the two of you. 

  Jisung had had the idea to do such a thing just before he left for the tour, claiming that talking on the phone late at night would be easy enough since the time zones wouldn't be too much of an issue. Plus, if it was nighttime for him, he'd most likely be done with his schedules. 

  "Are you tired, baby?" He was asking you, voice filtering through the speaker of your phone. It trickled out and flooded around the shell of your ear as you held your device close to your head. Since they were currently touring in Manila, the time zone difference wasn't too bad, leaving both of you to be snuggled into your respective beds for the night. 

  "Mhm- not too much... just, the sound of your voice always relaxes me so much..." It wasn't a lie, either. The feel of it pushing against your ear through your phone speakers did wonders to ease you into sleep at the end of every night. And you found yourself looking forward to your daily calls, while you worked hard at your job in the daytime. 

  It was like a nice respite, to listen to him talk about his way and make you laugh with his stupid jokes. It was especially nice if you had had a shitty day. He was the perfect salve to calm your heart no matter the circumstances. 

  "What're you wearing right now, darling?" He suddenly asked, voice a little husky from how much he had used it at the concert that night. 

  You already felt the start of a blush creeping up your neck and pooling in your cheeks. "I-I don't know, why?" You didn't know why you were getting so nervous all of a sudden. Han Jisung was your boyfriend, for goodness sake, it shouldn't have felt weird for him to ask you such an innocent question. 

  "C'mon, tell me." He purred in that deep voice of his that he only used on you when it was late at night and you two were playing around with each other buried deep in your coverlets. 

  You took a resounding, shaky breath, feeling your heart race in your chest. "I'm in my summer pajamas. You know the ones- the shorts and tank top with the light pink heart print." You found your hands traveling down to your waistline under the bedsheets, fingers toying with the drawstring of your shorts. 

  "Hmm- I always loved that set on you," he mused, voice sounding a little far off like he was reminiscing about what you looked like in that exact moment - sprawled out in your bed, cuddled up in the covers with the phone pressed to your ear. "I bought that for you as a gift last Valentine's Day, right?" 

  You ran your palm down the length of your right leg, feeling the soft fabric of the shorts as you went. "Yeah... I still think it's one of the cutest things you've ever gotten me." 

  He was quiet for a moment, and all you could hear was his breathing. That was turning heavier, more solid, against your ear. Then, he was speaking again, but in a tone that was a little grave and lilting. "Bet you'd look even cuter without anything on..."

  "Jisung!" You blurted out, your cheeks erupting in heat from his suggestive comment. Your hand stopped its messaging of your leg, as you held your breath, waiting for his next words. 

  "You miss me, yeah?" He was suddenly questioning you, even though he already knew the answer. He knew that you thought about him every second of every single day that he was gone. You told him so on many occasions. "You'd do anything I told you to, right?" 

  You found yourself swallowing down a moan, the feeling catching in your throat and making your mind move like you were trapped in a vat of molasses. "Yes- yes, of course... you already know my answer to everything, Ji." 

  "Then I want you to play with yourself." 

 Choking on a strangled gasp, you felt your eyes widen in the shock of it all. But already - instinctually - your legs were pressing together, trying to garner some kind of friction without doing anything just yet. 

  "When's the last time you fingered yourself, babydoll?" Jisung's tone came out gravelly and hushed, and you heard him shift on his end of the phone, like he, too, was getting restless under the sheets.

  "L-Last week." 

  "And did I cross your mind, while you fucked yourself with your hands?" 

  "Y-You're always on my mind, babe... couldn't get the thought out of my head that it was you touching me, fucking those perfect, long fingers up into me." 

  "Where are your hands right now, princess?" He asked, and you were ashamed to admit that they were already stuck down the front of your pajama shorts, palm just barely ghosting over your heat. 

  "I-In my shorts." 

  "Good. Now, start to touch yourself." His command came out a little garbled like it was painful for him to talk. Like, he was already battling an oncoming orgasm as you were at that moment. 

 "Not unless you're doing the same thing." 

 At that, he let out a dark chuckle, and an image of him flashed across your mind - midnight black hair rumpled from a long day, eyes heavy-lidded, and a sardonic smirk pulling across his lips. "Oh, don't you worry about me, darling. I've been rutting into my hand since you first answered the phone tonight." 

  His confession left you quite dumbfounded, as you had had no idea. But how could you, since the two of you were miles apart? And besides, Jisung was good at downplaying shit. Downplaying his arousal when he needed to and masking his wants. 

  "Get that toy out, kitten," he commanded, thick tone cutting through your thoughts that were swarming with lust. "The one that I bought you for your birthday." 

  He meant the Rabbit. It was a vibrator that was famous, and after the two of you had watched a movie where the main girl had used it and sung its praises, he had decided to buy it for you as a surprise. It was big, and took some practice to get the hang of. But man, did it work. So much so, that you had to refrain from using it too much, otherwise you were afraid that you'd start to crave it more than your actual boyfriend. 

  Leaning over your bed, you reached into your nightstand, digging the large pink toy out from underneath a pile of junk. You grabbed the unflavored lube that you always kept there too. 

  "How wet are you?" He grunted, his voice shooting down your ear and pooling in your core. The way that it danced around the room from being on speakerphone did something odd to you. Made you go wild for it all.

  Dipping two fingers into your heat, you felt your essence there. "Fucking sopping, baby." Your thumb trailed up to your clit, toying with it in lazy circles. Imagining that it was Jisung touching you just so, you pressed your head into your pillow, whining out his name. "Fuck- I need you so bad." 

  "I know princess, I know... fuck, I'm just imaging you right now- pretty little cunt dripping with your sweet, sweet juices as I fuck my fingers up into you." His voice trailed off, as you delved into the feeling between your legs. Thrusting up slowly, your two fingers curled inside your walls, hitting that warm sweet spot and sending a burst of starlight across your closed eyes. "I want you to imagine that it's me right there- fingering you. Fuck yourself with the toy, baby girl, and imagine that it's me using it on you." 

  Without even realizing it, your hands were already moving, picking up the vibrator and centering it against your core. You peered down at it, a little bit of fear rising deep inside of you from the sight of the large girth. "It's so big, I-I don't know if-"

  "C'mon now kitten, you can take it," your boyfriend taunted in a playfully seductive way, making your cheeks bloom with a furious blush. "Your little pussy takes me all the time, and I'm much bigger." 

  With the help of his coaxing, you begin to slide the tip of the toy into you. Ever so slightly, with the help of the lube, it finally fits into your core just right. "Ngh- I've got it in." You gasped, your other hand that wasn't holding the toy traveling up to your chest, fingers playing with your tits, twisting and pulling on pert, sensitive nipples. "F-Feels so big, Ji." 

  "Good girl," he cooed darkly, and the praise went straight to your head. Made you feel all light and floaty, lighting a tiny flame of arousal inside of you. "Now turn on the vibrator." 

  You did as you were told, bracing yourself for the feeling of it all. And it hit you like a ton of bricks. The curved point of the toy hit deep inside of you, while the outside rabbit ears pressed against your swollen bundle of nerves. 

  "You gonna be a good girl and follow everything I say?" You could hear the muffled sound of him just beyond his voice. Of squelching juices, as he played with himself. As you imagined what he was doing at that moment - practiced hand tightening around his thick cock, squeezing up and down the length of himself while his thumb played with his red, swollen tip. 

  There was a pause on your end, as your thoughts tripped over themselves, heart rattling against your ribcage. Your wetness poured out of you and mixed with the lube, causing a messy scene between your legs, and coating the white sheets underneath you. 

"Always, Ji." You finally managed to answer in a choked groan, as you began to move the toy around, thrusting in and out shallowly. 

  Jisung's voice came out husky against your ears. Grating, even. It sounded like he was already close to the edge of release - since apparently, he had been edging himself for hours during your phone call. "Then turn up the vibrator to the highest setting, babydoll. I wanna hear you scream my name while you fuck yourself on it."  

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[somecunttookmyurl]

all the while society conflates "being an adult" with "having a proper job" and "having money to make arbitrary Adult Purchases" disabled people who can't work - or can only work part time or can only do entry level baby jobs - will never be 'allowed' to be adults

you can say "being an adult is looking after yourself you don't have to have a job!!!" all you want but most people who say that will still assume anybody who doesn't either can't or won't 'look after themselves' actually. and every 'marker' of 'adulthood' that's observable and thus actually counts or whatever loops back around to... having a job and 'contributing' something

[kaedescara]

gojo uses you to fuck himself dumb

[factorialsotherfandoms]

OPD spoilers up to the end of episode 7, because episode 7 was fun but brain insisted on a couple of thoughts before I can move on (or, apparently, work on thing I was supposed to upload today). Injury warnings, spoiler warnings, and talk about potential death, and also er I've had these characters for one episode running on auto-translated-auto-subtitles. You will pry them from my cold-dead hands, but it's not exactly the best way to study things like speech patterns, especially when my Portuguese is... I can now catch the gist of things and follow the rpg mechanics mostly, but very very far from me being able to use any words? I just kinda can sort of follow via context and stuff I /recognise/ but don't /remember/. Enough rambling, have two guys in a car.

"Where to now?" Johnny asks, as they drive away. "You're the one with the maps."

A groan.

Johnny glances up, checks his partner in the rear-view mirror. Some of his muscles still shift in ways Johnny is pretty sure aren't entirely voluntary, and Rubens holds his entire body like it is in pain. Still, he gives half of a shrug, and keeps looking out of the window.

Johnny is also sore, yes, especially from having been immobilised - but he's /not/ the one whose breathing sounds kind of janky, and hissed when the seatbelt touched his ribs.

"That bad?" He adjusts his question to, glancing up from the road every few seconds.

"Just head home," Rubens answers the first question instead of the second. "We can pick in the morning."

"What morning? It's already gone seven," Johnny takes the turning towards their flat regardless. A pause and then. "You sure you're good just to go home?"

Yes, they need to continue the investigation, but even Johnny can see that Rubens can barely stand; no matter what help they wanted to give those two other agents, it wasn't going to happen.

"What-" Rubens is cut off, hissing, as they go over a bump.

"Yeah, you know what, driver's rules - we're going to the hospital."

Rubens' lack of reply, not even a grimace, is pretty damning. It is also a little worrying, especially with the flinches and extremely deliberate breathing.

It is not that Johnny is paranoid, it's that he knows what that attack did to Johnny himself, and he's gained a decent feel for Rubens' tolerance over the last few months.

He takes the turn towards the hospital, and already starts constructing a lie. Rubens can probably pass for an electrician, and Johnny could have just been helping, and maybe someone turned the mains back on before they were finished? That's got to happen all of the time, right?

"Do you think we'll see them again?" Johnny asks, searching for a conversation topic. He's got to keep driving, but he is more than starting to get worried. "No clue what's up with the boy, but they seemed decent. Good to know the Order's always got people."

Rubens' laugh isn't very happy, "no."

"I thought you were an optimist?"

"Your job," Rubens shifts, seemingly trying to alleviate some discomfort, and only making it worse. "I'd like to, but… you saw them. Injured, electrocuted, and going to where their team went dark? They won't survive. We might not."

It's true, but that doesn't mean he has to say it. There's been a lot of deaths, recently, if what Sam has been telling them is true. Johnny isn't sure, but can't see any reason for Sam to lie about that; Johnny and Rubens have been undercover for months, but have managed to keep themselves above water so far.

A lot of people haven't, though. A great many people haven't.

"You left them your knife," Rubens follows up with.

"Shut up and sort through that notebook instead."

"No." At least he's perked up a little, actually sounding a bit more awake, thinking and shifting a little and worrying his lip before he speaks again. "Maybe they'll surprise me and you'll get it back? Can't read the notebook. The bag is in the boot."

Neither of them comment on how, usually, Rubens would still just lean over and grab it.

"Maps, then?"

He makes a left turn, and they find themselves nearly there.

"They're maps," Rubens replies. "We need the notes to work on a target... Gameshow, orphanage, orphanage, gameshow, Menefreda, puzzles, Energy... I can't see the link; do you think there's any crossover in the cases? Should we ask Samuel for their notes? Something's missing here."

"Can't be sure," Johnny has to focus on this bit of road, busier than the further out streets. "We can ask, though."

"And the girl? Erin? She said the woman's voice was-" Rubens cuts off with a gasp.

Immediately Johnny looks up, checking over his shoulder. Rubens' back is arched and he struggles for air; he shoves on his hazard lights and pulls over before unplugging his seatbelt, and inelegently scrambling across.

By the time he has done so, Rubens' body has relaxed. He has leant back, breathing heavily and clutching at his chest. Johnny places a hand on his back, rubbing a thumb into the twisted muscles there.

"Rubens?" Johnny asks, voice lower. "You good?"

The shudder looks just as involuntary, but a little more normal; Rubens leans slowly forwards, resting only one elbow on his knee, and folding his chin onto it.

One moment, two.

Rubens starts gesturing a reply, only to cut himself off with a wince.

"An answer, please," Johnny keeps his voice low, doing his best to be reassuring.

"I'm good," he answers, blinking fast as he shifts to looking at his hands. "I'm... Good, yes, good. Just, fuck, the speed bump."

Johnny had barely even noticed it; Rubens has got to be much more injured than he looks to react that badly to just a speed bump.

"I'll be more careful," he promises, though he isn't quite sure how. "Good to keep going? We're another ten minutes out, looking at this traffic."

"All good."

It is not quite believable, given everything going on, but Johnny chooses to let it pass. He knows shit all about these things, only that his partner is suffering. He's also suffering, but he's Johnny - he can take it.

Rubens... Not so much. Not really his skill-set; Johnny doesn't jump in the way of fists because he enjoys getting punched, after all.

Choosing to climb back over instead of getting out, Johnny only slightly catches his ankle on the gear-stick. Still, he gets back to the driver's seat safely, turns off the hazard lights, and pulls back into the road.

"Any thoughts so far?" he asks instead.

Johnny can put pressure on a gunshot wound just fine, but electricity is weird. Magic electricity? Even weirder. He does, however, know that so long as everyone is managing coherent conversation he /probably/ can just drive to the hospital instead of faffing with an ambulance.

(Don't they have their own doctor now? Johnny isn't quite sure, but he does know that contacting the Order, outside of secure and prearranged chats with Samuel, is likely to break their cover.)

Rubens shifts his face from side to side, mouthing words to himself and gesturing his hand around in a much more typically Rubens fashion. After a little while he shrugs - only with one shoulder and that's something to make the doctor check - and answers, "hopefully the paperwork is more useful to us; I don't think the Director was actually anyone important. Show, Director, he only does this one bit most likely? And only had, what, five staff members?"

"Barely a crew," Johnny replies. "I don't like the thing with Erin's grandmother - she's definitely not any of the corpses. None were old enough. So why was her voice there?"

"The man too," Rubens replies. "You shouldn't have told them we were Order agents; the cameras were running. Whoever runs it might have heard."

"Shit," Johnny can immediately see the problem but, to be fair, in the moment that had been far from his highest priority. Getting the grenade out already blew more of his cover than either of them liked - he should have just stolen the gun and tried shooting the glass. "We can adapt, but..."

"Danger," Rubens replies. "We'll need to be more careful, right?"

"Right," and, fuck, Johnny has been here before. "We might need to be subtler to get in."

"Games," Rubens replies.

"Hm?"

"He likes games. If we-" another speedbump, and Rubens gasps again, entire body twisting at the pain, but he settles himself quickly, moving on. "Fuck. But, if we do get in... it might be to play with us specifically. If the recording got through. Champion's match. New difficulty."

"Maybe the information we have will be enough?"

The look Rubens gives him is absolutely scathing.

"Yeah, okay, they weren't important enough to have anything actually good. I can wish, though; don't really want to be watching over my shoulder forever."

"It could work in our favour," Rubens settles on. "We need to get into deeper areas anyway. Toying, playing - if we interested whatever's in charge, perhaps it will bring us deeper to try again."

"They're deathtraps."

"But somebody always has to win. It's a bad game, otherwise."

Two people could have won the game they were playing, if they stuck to the rules, or perhaps there would have been more to it. Johnny doesn't expect them to be that generous again, though.

Ah, well, they'll work it out.

They always do.

---

It is not that much further to the hospital, and 7:30am is a blissfully quiet time. Most people from the night before have already left, but it's too early for most sorts of accidents.

Parking is easy, but getting out is more difficult. Well, no, Johnny can get out fine - stiff and weirdly cramping, but fine. It's Rubens he worries about, Rubens who scoots rather than steps out of the car, and still almost immediately collapses to the floor.

The concern - the /worry/ - is back nearly instantly.

"Ow, fuck, shit," Rubens mutters, in between the curse words as he uses the side of the car to leverage himself up.

Yeah, no, that is not going to stand. Johnny comes back over, taking the one of Rubens' arms that he isn't holding strangely, and pulling it over his shoulders. His own arm he wraps around his partner's back, protecting him from any potential falls.

When he squeezes his fingers, Rubens hisses; Johnny shifts them further down with an apology on his tongue.

"It's fine."

It's not fine.

The angle is awkward, so Johnny much crouch a bit as he helps Rubens to the emergency room. Even with the help and the rest he still keeps staggering and stumbling, his legs barely able to hold his weight.

The reception desk is even worse. By the time they get there, Johnny is supporting all of Rubens' admittedly meager weight.

"Hey," he says, reminding himself she may be the gatekeeper but if he isn't polite then they are both in trouble. "Sorry, we were doing some repair work, and some asshole turned the mains back on while we were working. I'm just kinda sore, but my buddy's having trouble breathing."

Always mention the breathing. They hate it when you cannot breathe properly.

Her eyes flicker momentarily wider, looking at the now disturbingly grey Rubens.

"Names, please?"

"I'm Johnny Tabasco, this is Rubens Naluti."

Rubens seems to try to smile and wave, only to grimace and flinch instead.

A few more questions follow - dates of birth, occupations, next of kin, particularly concerning symptoms... Rubens says unusually quiet, getting slowly heavier against Johnny's side.

Eventually, the questioning comes to an end.

"Please go sit down, and fill in these forms," two clipboards are handed to Johnny. Right. Insurance paperwork and medical history - at least he knows enough of Rubens' to fill it in, after so long doing this work together. "Someone will likely be with Mr Naluti shortly, though you yourself will likely have to wait longer. We're not overly busy, but there are still a few incidents already."

"Thank you," and oh, Christ, he's just glad to be able to get Rubens off his feet.

They end up on the plastic chairs, Rubens flinching at it.

"You alright?" Johnny asks him.

There are a good number of fast blinks before Rubens nods, "let's not repeat this, though."

"Sure thing."

Rubens' hand (and only one hand, the other stays at his side) shakes badly as he starts filling in his form - the simple bits like address he leaves just in case, and starts with his medical insurance details. Allergies, pre-existing conditions... Rubens is doubling back to fill in his basic details when a doctor appears.

"Mr Naluti?"

"Here," he raises his clearly good hand.

"If you would come with me, please?" she asks.

He glances to her, to the gap between them, and then to Johnny. Johnny goes to get up to help, and she says "wait here, please, triage for adult patients is done alone."

And, sure, but didn't they get the notes?

Rubens looks at Johnny, only slowly nodding after they have made eye contact. Johnny is not entirely sure what it means, but he prepares himself for trouble anyway.

And then Rubens /tries/ to stand.

This time when he falls, he catches his weight on his bad arm. Johnny just about manages to stop his head or chest crashing into the floor, snapping at the doctor with a "didn't you /read/ he can't walk right now?!" as he helps him back onto the chair.

It leaves Rubens even more off-colour, and shaking, and Johnny not a great deal impressed with what is going on.

"I'll be right back," the doctor vanishes back the way she came.

"Will you be okay alone?" Johnny asks.

"Eh," Rubens manages a small laugh - his breathing is not settling this time, remaining too fast and too shallow. "I'll manage."

"Of course you will."

Johnny wishes there was an easier way to solve this specific bullshit at least.

Quickly, Johnny finished Rubens papers, and lets him sign them. They are ready when a different doctor appears - this one accompanied by some lower ranked staff member pushing a wheelchair.

"Mr Naluti, I'll be taking over from my colleague," the new doctor says. "We need to speak to you alone - privacy and protocol, you understand - but he can help you transfer if that is better for you?"

It is better for Johnny, at least.

"It's up to you," he still manages to say, standing and offering his arms, just like getting out of the car.

Rubens nods, and takes them, struggling the few short steps from the chair to the wheelchair. Johnny helps him get... not comfortable, but less uncomfortable, before placing Rubens' clipboard on his lap.

"See you shortly," Johnny promises.

"Yeah," Rubens replies between tight breaths. "See you soon."

---

Johnny does not see Rubens shortly, not even close thereto. They did bring the evidence with them, split between their bags - it's been stolen from their car before, and that was it's own form of nightmare - but he cannot exactly work on it here. Neither can he work on it without Rubens, who...

"Mr Tabasco," one of the nurses had told him. "Your friend - Mr Naluti? He asked us to tell you... He needs to be admitted due to internal damage? Primarily to his lung. There is surgery involved, though the tear is small and so it is a relatively simple procedure. It is not common with electrical injuries, especially with mains supplies, but it can happen. The doctor wished to work on it immediately, and he consented. There were some other internal injuries too - all consistent with severe muscle spasming or electrical burns. You'll be able to see him once the doctors have finished, but he'll be here a few nights most likely; until the chest tube comes out, at least, perhaps longer depending on his ribs. Given the nature of his injuries, and that you were injured together, the doctor wishes to see you immediately."

And Johnny liked none of that, not at all. He complied with the doctors simply to get through everything, and given an injection to force his muscles to stop cramping. He hates how it helps him feel less like shit, and concedes to their desire for at least 24 hours of wires and monitoring only once he realises it will place him and Rubens on the same ward.

The ward is louder, and busier, and Johnny hasn't slept since this time yesterday, if nobody counts getting knocked out and kidnapped. Still, he cannot rest yet, not until he knows Rubens is fine. There are, at least, some non-work related books in his bag; he'll text Sam with an update once he's sure what's going on, and until then at least try to relax.

Thankfully, he does not get more than two chapters in before Rubens is brought through. Something he said must have stuck with the doctors, as he is given the next bed along. Propped to half-sitting, with some wires and tubes and thick bandaging around one shoulder, but awake and unhappy about it. Johnny waits for the medical staff to finish adjusting him to take a better look; Rubens' eyes trail after them somewhat nervously, and hospital blue does not suit him but he is looking a distinctly better colour.

"You alright?" he asks, drawing attention from the room to himself.

Rubens visibly relaxes when his eyes catch on him, bored and reading. He gestures to himself with his unbandaged arm, clearly moving carefully so as not to disturb anything.

"You?" he returns with.

"Painkillers help," Johnny offers, and receives a firm nod of agreement. "I'm sore, but fine. Might have torn something, but swelling needs to go down to check. The burns are too deep, but my nerves are a bit sensitive and they want to be absolutely sure the ones around my heart are fine before they let me leave."

"Heart?" Rubens asks, his attention focusing in for a second, before someone dropping a tray of medicines with a loud 'fuck!' draws a flinch and his attention.

"Doctor said if there was going to be a problem there probably would be by now, but he wanted it monitoring just in case," Johnny does his best to reassure. "You... look a bit more alive?"

"Not alive enough to read."

Johnny laughs, "I wasn't going to ask you for that already. Did they say how long you're here for...?"

Rubens shakes his head a little, "no 'heavy exercise' for at least 4 weeks. Maybe more. Depends on my ribs."

"I'll let Sam know. We can sort through the paperwork and update reports in the meantime."

"Ugh," he flops harder into the pillows, seemingly trying to lay down - something the nurses made impossible for the both of them - but gestures consent. "Tell him 'just hack the hospital records'."

"Alright. Get some sleep, or I do have our bags? I think your wallet is in there if you want to buy access to the TVs. Not sure what else you packed."

There is just the problem of getting Rubens' bag to him.

Rubens seems to choose sleep, though, or at least closing his eyes to think about something - it's been a long night, and Johnny will probably follow once he's reported in.

Just a short text message; Sam can work out a more secure connection if he wants information immediately, otherwise he can wait until at least Johnny can head home and ring. Scanning he can also do, but accessing the digital documents will have wait for Rubens. Not that the Order is ever running to time anyway.

'Hey Sam' he types, keeping things on their personal phones as civilian sounding as possible. 'So first off, don't panic, nobody's dead or dying, but Rubens and I are in hospital. He said to tell you to just hack the hospital records, so now I've said it. Not really in the mood to explain

.., but the short is some asshole got us electrocuted...'

[lumiolivier]

See what happens when I post polls on Twitter? They make me do dumb shit.

[unhinged-nymph]

The sounds link is making…

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the dream honestly is to live next door to a cool little grandma who i can knock on their door and be like "oopsi, i baked too many muffins, do you want some?"

[chloefraazers]

Happy to see your “Niloy November” was a major flop! Probably because everyone knows “romance options” won’t happen, and ESPECIALLY neither will Niloy. Stay mad, bestie! 😘

(P.S. Stop putting your ugly gifs in the horizon forbidden west tag. No one wants to see them! Hope this helps!)

ok 👍

[felizusnavidad]

i'm going home tomorrow & i'm so excited to see my family, i really missed them

[eggs-can-draw]

Sp……spider-kuma my beloved

Theme song under the cut by @firedemongaming

[trans-cuchulainn]

i just booked to view two flats (to buy) (i'm probably not going to buy them) (i would only be co-buying them even if i did bc i can't afford a mortgage) (they're in a good location though it would be way nearer to useful things even if there's still no bus) and they asked me no questions beyond contact details when i called them about a viewing. is that normal. shouldn't they have tried to check i'm serious. i had all my answers prepared re: the finances and they didn't care