#i had enough of everyone in this house

[sergle]

yall are about to piss me off by not having any PASSING basic knowledge of the way the u.s. military manipulates its recruits into joining by typing up one of your uninformed, unresearched, unempathetic, individualistic, unbelievably annoying posts about how 100% of the people in the military ended up there because they just Love America So Damn Much! they're extremely mature and informed at time of recruitment, they can totally leave anytime they want, they totally had tons of other avenues in life they could've taken, there was no rush at all to get income as fast as possible, and everyone in the military also totally is part of the combat divisions and personally enjoys being IN the military very much, big believers of violence. everyone in the military is shooting guns all day, that's how that works. they LOVE BLOODSHED. also I love the "amewicans haha" twang to this type of shit because you're actually TOTALLY stealing our Thing, which is turning systemic issues into Individual Issues. Instead of talking about the powers that be, it's so Personal Choice up in here. It's, "well you shouldn't have done it then. I totally wouldn't because I know better." you don't wanna talk about the military industrial complex as a whole, and you don't want to talk about recruiters, you just want to pin the blame on Specific Individual People one-by-one, as if they're responsible for the system that they're being ground up in. someone was in the military? bad person, no matter what. it's easier to believe that, I guess, than to acknowledge that Normal People (with high school educations) are manipulated and incentivized into joining a system that is Bad. at like age 18. but yeah no that 18 year old should have just been smarter lol haha anyway here are some screenshots for no particular reason

side note this reply of someone going "umm just get loans and go into a high paying field it's easy XD" as a direct response to someone trying to explain how most americans joining the military are being funneled in that direction out of a need for money.

and another person who Decided that americans join the military just CLENCHING their teeth thinking of other people, and not thinking completely selfishly about their own selves and their own income/housing/healthcare.

[milf-harrington]

inspired by @flashyysins

Two days after Hawkins was almost split open, Robin saw a woman pacing in the hospital waiting room.

There were plenty of other people as well, sitting or standing or walking the length of the room in a similar pattern, but there was something about the woman that Robin noticed. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, which she was- it's that there was something familiar about her.

She was in blue jeans and an old-school Hawkins High Letterman jacket, light brown hair twisted up in a claw clip. Robin had never met her before, she'd remember that at the very least, but still.

Something about the angle of her nose or the gentle waves of her hair felt like something Robin had seen before, something she'd be able to find in a crowded room or across a street.

But Robin had somewhere to be, so she shook off the odd feeling, and followed the familiar path to Steve's room.

---

"Hey Stevie."

Steve's smile was tired, but he was looking more lively than when he'd passed out in the waiting room the other day, so she'd take it.

"Robbie, you left me hanging yesterday."

She snorted and dropped into one of the chairs by his bed, swinging her legs over the arm rest and cradling the bag she'd brought with her in her lap. "You're the one who fell asleep during visiting hours."

He rolled his eyes, and she happily noted the colour returning to his skin. "You should be exempt from visiting hours, you're like...essential to my recovery or something."

She laughed to hide the way those words curled soft and warm around her heart, eyes stinging until she blinked it away. The dumbass had almost over-worked himself to the point of no recovery. "'Exempt?' Someone's been reading a dictionary- did one of your children leave theirs behind?"

"Oh fuck you-"

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Robin was startled to see the woman from the waiting room hovering behind a nurse.

"You have a new visitor Mr Harrington."

Even knee-deep in confused intrigue, Robin couldn't help but dramatically mouth Mr Harrington over her own shoulder, pleased at the face he pulled in retaliation.

And then the door shut, and Steve looked up to find the woman-from-the-waiting room standing at the end of the bed.

Robin saw his brain grind to a halt at the sight of her.

It was silent (well, as much as it could be in a hospital room, what with all the beeping and whirring) as they took each other in, and Robin slowly brought her knees in closer to her chest like it would shield her from the vague awkwardness chewing at her.

And then-

"Fucking hell, Eve." The woman breathed out, white knuckling the bar at the end of his bed.

At the same time, Steve's face scrunched up as he demanded: "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean 'what am I doing here'? You're in hospital!"

"I thought you were in New York!"

"Yeah and then I got a call from Hawkins General that my little brother was dying in a hospital bed! Thank you for keeping me as your emergency contact, by the way."

"Well-" Steve spluttered and then crossed his arms over his chest, wincing at the pressure on his injuries. "Obviously."

Several things clicked into place like undone locks. Steve had almost been too comfortable about "feminine" topics for as long as she'd been an active member of his life- and even slightly before.

(He'd once run out of Scoops to buy her pads when she'd started her period in the middle of a shift. At the time she'd figured he was just trying really hard to beat the still a douche-bag allegations.)

Then there were the sweaters that he wouldn't confess to the origin of, the jokes he'd make about Robin "not being the only woman in his life" that she'd thought were about Nancy Wheeler, the vehement denial that the rom-com collection in the theatre room were his.

And, while Robin hated to enforce gender stereotypes, he'd always had the kind of mean girl cattiness that was usually only forged in teenaged girls and merely rubbed off on others.

Of course Steve Harrington had a sister.

Now Robin understood why she'd seemed so familiar in the waiting room.

"What happened to you?"

Simultaneously, Robin and Steve shifted uncomfortably, meeting each others eyes and coming up blank on both ends.

Steve's sister swallowed, jaw clenched and lip quivering as she look back and forth between them. She seemed suddenly fragile, like Steve after a nightmare, or right before he'd collapsed in the waiting room after carrying Eddie inside.

Steve cracked first. "Lou-"

"Don't fucking lie to me, Stephen. This is the third time you've ended up in hospital since your senior year."

Steve blinked, startled. "How did you-"

"I'm your sister." She seethed, and Robin could see flickers of Steve with an axe in his hand in the arch of her shoulders. "You might have told the hospital not to call but I still have friends in this town. If that Hargrove asshole wasn't already dead-"

"Lou-"

"Don't-"

"It was a serial killer." Robin blurted, drawing Steve's sisters' attention to her. "I don't now if you heard about it, but someone was going around killing teenagers. It started with Chrissy Cunningham- she was a cheerleader? kind of cute in a preppy sort of way, but, um- she was killed in our friends living room and then he sort of got blamed for it because, I mean, it was pretty sketchy but he didn't do it! I promise, Eddie didn't- anyway, there was this whole witch hunt, and two more people died which just sort of made it worse for Eddie and a group of us were trying to, like, clear his name, you know? Because we knew he didn't do it and we didn't want him to get killed next, but then one of our other friends - this girl, Max, she's a riot - she was being targeted by the real killer so we came up with this...really stupid plan to catch the killer but everything went sort of tits up and Eddie and Steve both got, well-" She waved her hands at the bandage around Steve's throat and the bruising around his wrists from the vines. "And Max, she broke her elbow and her knee when she fell, and I think Dustin twisted his ankle? So now Max and Eddie and Steve are all in hospital and Dustin has these crutches that he doesn't want to use but, I mean, Steve always makes him because it's Steve, and we don't really know if Eddie's okay yet but no one's come to tell us he's not so we're still hopeful-"

"Robin."

Robin shut her mouth, and took a deep breath through her nose. Steve's sister was staring at her in the startled sort of awe that Robin was used to seeing when she got going. She had the lungs of a trumpet player, it wasn't hard for her to talk until she forgot where she'd started.

"You fought a serial killer?" Steve's sister - Lou? - asked, and Robin hysterically felt like she should offer up her seat.

Steve, bless him, only nodded. Lou stared, lips pressed into a thin line and nostrils flared slightly.

And then, quite abruptly, she was straightening her back and stepping around the bed to hold out a hand to Robin. "Louisa Harrington."

Robin blinked, and shook her hand. "Robin Buckley."

Louisa nodded, like that made sense, and smiled the same cupids-bow smile as her brother. "The best friend- it's good to meet the other half of my brothers brain. Clearly the better half, considering you aren't the one in the hospital bed."

Steve made an offended noise, and Robin grinned.

[marc--chilton]

hang on i'm once again thinking about house being stupid with love. stacy moved in with him a week after meeting him. that's HUGE change. could you imagine how much he'd have to be obsessing over her to make HIS home THEIR home??? and he still wasn't over her 5+ years later after everything either.

(and like. i wonder if there was ever a moment there for wilson where he's watching house and stacy be so witty and beautiful and in love together and thinking to himself, huh. so this is what that feels like.)

[calypsolemon]

If i am totally honest I kind of don't like how harsh some of the fandom is at Greg sometimes for being literally homeless and having a magical gem son at the same time. For sure there are places where Greg actually messed up but I feel like in the case of Steven partially growing up in a van and not really having access to medical care and lacking structure because of it is like. Homeless and poor people have kids and its not a moral failing on their part for our society not helping them meet their needs, yknow?

[storywestistrash]

i am actually so tired of the way westerners treat eastern europeans

[toytulini]

one more baja blast. either im going to clean this tank or fall miserably asleep while screaming and crying trying

[akkivee]

THATS SO SICK

[septimus-heap]

i wish i had infinite money so i could see posts asking for like 1000 dollar and then give them 1 million. i would ruin every economy ever but it would be worth it i think. how do rich ppl just not give out money to everyone they see

[lordkingsmith]

@augment-techs more ideas but this time for Nora lol

Ladybird ladybird fly from your home

Your children are missing;

They started a fire.

Three are guilty they must atone

Save the one whose feet did tire

Sloane alone will go back home

Whispered to her in her sleep, causing Nora’s eyes to snap open with a curse. Her life had been, for the third time in a year, upended. First her husband died in a car accident, and then her brother who’d abandoned her turned up. Young as the day he’d vanished, babbling quickly and with such remorse she couldn’t help but believe the things streaming out of his mouth. And after him, well…she sat on the bed, trying to focus on it all in order to get her bearings and rage properly going.

An old knot in her chest had been untied, and then retied in a new way. His utter remorse had recontextualized so very much. So too had the explanation. The Autumn King likes the pretty ones, the kind ones. It was an old warning and a true one. The king liked the pretty ones, which Waylan Spark she could now see, was. He’d always been the partly unknown much older brother who brought candies and puzzles and games whenever he visited. Who offered to take her on his excursions into various nature places to ‘help him’ take pictures. The one who’d wrapped his arms around her like he’d never let go when they buried their dad. But the wide eyes and soft voice, expressive fingers and athletic form and those pearls accenting every catch of light in his hair-and Nora the adult knew her brother was pretty. Too pretty to escape notice from anything that considered beauty the most important quality. Aside from kindness.

Immediately realizing she was a mother, and giving her the coat to protect her children also told her more than his words he was one of the selflessly sort of kind ones too. ‘I never stopped trying to get to you’ also clued her in. When he was pulled back into the forest, she tried to hold on like she’d never let go. He was ripped from her arms anyway.

They’d been getting ready for the community college and high schools for the three youngest, her and her Waylon, her oldest. He was an electrician, stumbling into his father’s role after the man had died and doing his best. He was the same age as her brother when he went missing, she thought sourly as she put her boots on in the middle of the dark night. But he wasn’t his namesake. Too much of his father in him. Too wary and self serving. Asked far too many questions, always coming up with get rich quick schemes. He was responsible, and was a doer, and loved his family. She could give him that. When it behooved him he could be selfless, and it irked her he’d chosen now to do so. She’d managed to head off the questions with distracted anger till they’d gotten home. Everyone in town it seemed, staring at her in pity as they went about their pre planned day. She was shaking by the time she was done and home, slumped in a kitchen chair. It was then she responded to the questions.

He’d asked about Waylan first, asked if it was really her brother. What was going on, why was she wearing that fur coat-was it really rabbit fur? Nora had laughed hysterically in the store at the questions and again at home, head in her hand as she stared at mold on the wall.

“Mom” said Sloane, her youngest at barely seventeen. The girl dyed her hair black and cut it short. An odd way to separate herself from the blonds and redheads in the home, but effective. Sloane offered her mother a coffee. Good girl, but Nora knew it was done with ulterior motives. Currently, Sloane wanted her mother to calm down and give them the scoop on what was going on. A girl of few words and somehow the biggest gossip in the town. Still, the drink was appreciated.

Somehow, as Nora thrust her hat and gloves on angrily enough to tear the rim of her good wool hat, she wasn’t surprised it’d been Sloane to hang back and watch. She didn’t like doing things she liked talking about them. The classic fly on the wall. Luckily had never done this maliciously, but it was still annoying now.

It was half empty by the time Nora was done. “Waylan left when I was a kid.” She said sourly. “Sometimes it happens, especially around here. Legend has it the Autumn King is a powerful fae who views the towns in and around his forest as handy places to acquire play things. People who are kind, who are pretty, who suit his mood.” She’d grimaced. “Guess it’s not a legend, is it.”

There was a missing persons list practically a mile long, and Waylan’s face was the last one currently hung up in that mess of old posters. Allegedly all the missing people were the ones taken by the king, and now it felt…well. Far too likely. Well-he’d been the last till she’d had to hang her four’s posters, swallowing down rage and tears and knowing damn well where all four probably were.

“So do we get him?” Maeve asked. Second oldest, and a nurse at the local emergency clinic. Nora saw the most of herself in her eldest daughter, and the most kindness. She wasn’t a looker, and had a habit of as she put it, mercy lying. However her retributions were calculated, swift, and always deserved. As was her generosity. “We go, get your brother and come home.”

Nora slipped the rabbit fur coat on, carelessly left behind by her well meaning but incredibly stupid children. She could imagine it was Maeve’s idea. Her husband, Alistair, had also lost a sibling to the forest, two years before Nora lost Waylan. It felt oddly fitting Maeve and Waylon would be the two who’d most likely convinced the others to go in. Go get Maev and Waylan. Their namesakes. Fix a wrong they had no business fixing because that was her two oldest. She sighed at her reflection. Snubbed nose, wide set eyes, wrinkles and a faint scowl always at her lips. Her hair, in her youth especially, was such a dark red it looked like dried blood. The exact opposite in every way to her brother. People like the fae called her homely. Her Alistair had called her beautiful. She missed him, terribly.

“No Maeve” she’d snapped at the girl. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Or how. But you four ain’t gonna do it with me.” Waylan begging her to keep those four safe had been badly unsettling, and while she figured out how to help him, she’d protect them.

If she’d been less tired, perhaps, she might have noticed the four clustering together in the living room as she went to bed. Al waving his hands and whispering as the oldest two rounded on him quietly.

Their son, Alistair Junior, or just Al as he generally preferred, liked causing mischief. A terrible braggart and a coward. He hiccuped when he was afraid. Middle child no doubt dragged along by his two much more brave older siblings. He looked so like Maev, apparently, he’d been mistaken by older folk as her more than once. A brown blond similar to the fur of a fawn. An easy smile. Freckles and an infectious laugh. Daring, as long as he couldn’t get in trouble. She loved the boy, he drove her up the wall but she loved him.

She grabbed her Alistair’s shotgun out of the shed and loaded it. Could you hurt a fae king with a gun? They were about to find out. She stomped out of the house holding it, cursing at the cold. The dark. The king who summoned her. Her idiot children.

“Betcha I can guess what happened.” She told the frozen air as she headed for the trees. “Waylon and Maeve decided to use their idiot brother as a decoy. He hiccups when he’s afraid, so the noise would draw suspicion. Then they left Sloane to stand watch as she said her feet were tired. They weren’t, she just wanted to see what would happen to the other three.”

She sighed as she plodded on, careful of hidden roots in the snow. “Maeve and Waylon halved it. Took each room on the levels Al wasn’t, do I have it right so far?”

The forest didn’t answer. She continued with a sigh. “I don’t think they realized you’ve been sleeping with him, did they? No. They wouldn’t. They weren’t close enough to see all the scars on him.” She looked at the forest. “You bit him hard enough to scar! On his hips! Yes I noticed!”

It echoed back to her almost mockingly. She scowled but continued walking. “They found you both in the bed. Probably Waylan far enough away they felt they could pull that chain on his neck loose and get him off the bed without you noticing.” She could see the old manor in the distance.

“But you weren’t actually asleep, were you. Maybe you let them get as far as the door. Maybe Waylan shouted for you, maybe he was quiet because he did want to get out again.” She stood at the door.

“And that’s when Al got chased into the kitchen, and decided to have a little fun. He likes fireworks, and isn’t allowed to play with fire or gunpowder anymore. Genuinely I am sorry about that part.” She hefted her gun. “Pyromaniac with a heart of gold, what can I do.”

She knocked on the door. “May I come in?”

It opened on its own and she walked inside. She knew then she was in the other realm with the opulence and the fall lighting of a mid October evening. The king stood in shadow, waiting for her. She folded her arms.

“You could have waited your turn to take Waylan Spark or Maev Hutcher.” She spread her hands. “And now you’ve had to deal with my kids for four months in your realm.”

“Come.” He turned and she followed. “It’s only been a few days, here.” Was murmured. “It went more or less how you’ve said. Not often I meet a mother who knows her children.”

“Forgive me but it doesn’t seem you get out much.” Nora said with the barest kindness or warmth in her voice. “Not meeting more responsible people feels more of a direct case of your own actions.” He gave her a sharp look as she looked at him blandly, evenly. No matter what, he had a shroud of shadows obscuring most of his features, and she knew he did this for her sake. She wanted to needle him, but not enough that he felt prudent to drop the manners.

They walked down stairs as the air grew musty. “Maev.” The king murmured. “I remember her. Pretty thing. Blond, green eyed. So you married her brother.” Again strange eyes regarded her. “You named your two oldest after the missing?”

“Felt prudent.” She responded. “You know there’s a superstition out there? The king won’t take people he’s already taken. So trick him by naming the kids after the missing.” A low rumbling laugh.

“I did not know this.”

“You really don’t get out much do you.” Nora observed again, less bland and more discerning. “That explains a bit.”

“Excuse me?”

She shook her head wryly. “A little difficult to explain. Plus, you’ve stolen my brother, my sister in law, and now my children. I don’t wish to stay in your house and talk longer than I need.”

“Infuriating. I don’t have to give them back, then.” She stopped. Turned on her heel. And began walking back the way they’d come. “What are you doing?” He was at her heels. Of course he was. She grit teeth and continued.

“You don’t want to give them back because I don’t want to have small talk.” She snapped at the shadow she didn’t quite dare look at. “Fine. You brought me here to get my children, but if you’ve suddenly changed your mind it’s alright. I’ll go.”

A low growl. “Take your insolent whelps and let me in peace, woman!” She turned to him, shadows sliding into place over sharp teeth and strange eyes and antlers in places they shouldn’t. She swallowed a wave of revulsion down.

“Then no more small talk.” She said sternly. “Don’t toy with me. Unlike the others you’ve got, you’ve had to beg me to come. You’re not doing me the favor, here.” She was intensely proud of her foolhardy children in this moment.

Another growl before the king stalked again towards the stairs at the end of the hall. Nora hustled to keep up this time.

The holding cells might as well have been called an open cemetery. Nora held the sleeve of her coat over her nose from the smell. “Bury them.”

“They broke in” the king snapped. “Or directly went against me. They can rot.”

“How much does my brother come down here to grieve, your highness?”

Silence. “For him. Bury them.”

To her surprise, he nodded shortly. “Very well.”

Nora had the sudden feeling the reason Waylan had lasted so long in the king’s home wasn’t just an interest in a toy. It only made her see red. Her father had hit them, hit her mom. Her mom had apparently walked into the forest rather than put up with it. She had abandoned Nora. If she hadn’t left-or left Nora with her dad, Waylan wouldn’t have had to come home when their dad died. The king wouldn’t have taken him.

She was also sure her father had loved her mother. It didn’t stop him from hurting her. Hurting them. The king felt like an echo and she grit her teeth against the vitriol she wished to scream out.

He opened a door at the very end of the stone hall. Sloane was sitting curled against the wall while her other three were shackled across from her in various states of banged up. Her brother, thankfully in an oversized shirt, offering a sugar packet of all things to Al. Probably for the incessant hiccuping.

She was seven and had just stopped crying. Waylan was already in the kitchen. He was pressing a bag of peas to his face while leaning against the sink. When he noticed her he smiled tiredly.

“Hi No-No.” he said as he knelt to her.

“Did daddy do that?”

“…yes” he said carefully. “Did it scare you.”

She began hiccuping as she declared “no! No he did NOT” while stamping her foot. Waylan laughed before ruffling her hair fondly. He pulled a sugar packet out of his pocket. The peas went on the table for the time being.

“Sugar cures hiccups.” He said as he tore the packet open and offered it to her. “Try it.” She let him tilt the sweet granules into her open mouth.

They went away so fast she giggled. “Like magic.” He smiled back, tiredly.

“Something like that.”

“Was mama taken by magic?” The smile vanished. He shrugged. “Are you gonna stay?”

He shrugged again. “As much as I can.” Waylan said. “Magazine pays a lot of money for pictures. I’ll do as much as I can around here, but I’ll probably have to go to places they ask.”

He handed her two more packets of sugar and got her a glass of water. “Go back to bed, Nora. We’ll be okay.”

“Sugar cures hiccups.” She said, maybe to herself and maybe to the king. “Waylan taught me that.” The king snorted.

“Even not knowing who he is, he knows how to cure hiccups.” Ir was so ridiculous she wanted to cry. She blinked very hard, willing them away. This was neither time nor place.

“Sweetness.” Waylan dropped the empty sugar packet and turned to the king with obedient expectation. There were new bruises along his exposed arms. A black eye partially swollen shut. Ah, Nora thought. So you did try to escape with them. “To the study. Now.” The king ordered. Waylan looked at Nora’s children pointedly as the king sighed. “I’ve brought their mother. The study. Now.”

Waylan regarded his sister with none of the recognition he’d had for her before. Empty but friendly blue eyes regarded her curiously before Waylan pressed his palm to the wall. Stairs opened from a crack and he ascended. They closed behind him as though they’d never existed. Presumably he was making his way to the study. Presumably this was how he slipped down before.

“I take it he’s been down here taking care of them whenever you’re not looking?” Nora asked after a long moment. The king didn’t deign a response. Sloane was staring at her mother, eyes flicking between the king and Nora wildly. Nora walked to her youngest with her arms open. Sloane rushed into them.

“Take her and go.” The king said. “And the fire inclined.”

“You’ve got a Waylan already, you’ve got a Maev!” Nora shouted as she rocked her daughter back and forth. “Why aren’t you satisfied? They caused you enough grief and you’ve ruined my life already. Not them. Not those two.”

“I want retribution for my house!” The king roared.

“They wouldn’t have set it on fire if you hadn’t stolen Waylan, if he hadn’t fought so hard to come back to me!” She roared back as she surged to her feet. “You shouldn’t have taken him away in the first place!”

The forest surged around her as snapping teeth growled, the king’s madness inducing face inches from hers. “He is mine!” The king growled.

“He was mine first.” Nora hissed back. “You could have waited.”

She closed her eyes. “Would you like to make a deal? If you win the wager, Waylan’s yours. Forever. And one of my idiots.”

“C’mon ma…” Al muttered and Nora held a finger to him.

“You choose one to keep as payment for the fire.”

“And if you win?”

“If I win I get Maev and Waylan and all my kids.” She snarled. “And you don’t take anyone else for the entirety of my life.”

“A high price, your winning.”

She cocked the gun into his stomach. “I normally wouldn’t threaten my host” she snarled, “but we’re long past niceties. I can be the worst thorn in your side. do you want to see if an iron bullet shot point blank into your stomach would kill you?”

“A deal, then.” The fae snarled. “But I decide the rules of the game.”

Nora set the gun down and tipped her head defiantly at the king.

“Go on then, your majesty. Set your terms.”

[rhysintherain]

For a show about diagnostic medicine, House does shockingly little actual diagnosis.

"Start him on antibiotics." Have you seen a bacteria? No? That's because apparently nobody on your team knows how to grow a culture or run a gram stain.

"It's probably cancer, start him on radiation." Without finding the cancer?? Without knowing what it is so you can decide on a treatment plan??

Very funny that actual diagnosis is too boring for House, so he just throws treatments at people until it almost kills them and demonstrates what the problem isn't.

[ghostcrows]

the way people talk about and view mental illness has always been under this veil of sympathy and understanding but really when that energy is most needed it all just vanishes. we have 200 more specific terms for certain symptoms and 2000 more videos on how to stop procrastinating and how to deal with rejection sensitive dysphoria and 50000 new videos on how it's In Your Brain and it's Hereditary and it's Homemade by your Primary Caregivers but people still dont really ...get it. they just dont. the resources available are so hollow. its empty promises. suicide hotline that just gets you insta-detained. therapist you talk in circles with for a third of your income per session. housing program with a wait list that only gets longer. this insistence that you build up a support system with no support. this quietly depleting time frame you have (or feel you have, this very real pressure) in which to get your shit together before you're just another sad statistic. always having to wait until you're at the brink of complete self destruction to get help, and by then. how much damage is already done

it's all just casting shadows on the wall

[yeonban]

I'm thinking about psypass Tobias rn and how his financial situation would be in this verse bc... in the majority of his verses, 99% of his money comes from his criminal work which he started at 16 when he left Wammy's accommodations (he had no money for his entire life prior to that; outside of whatever fleeting budgets Wammy's allocated him for specific missions), but in psypass he'd need to be in Japan by ~17 to have enough time to learn everything needed to become an inspector at 18. Since his situation is also different from Mika's who became an inspector at 18 (<-she lived under Sibyl her whole life so she knew the ins & outs of how general life is under there, plus she didn't have to worry about how immigration would play a role in how she'd be perceived/what opportunities she'd receive), he'd also need to figure everything else of this sort before starting work at the mwpsb.

Which means he'd really have very little time to focus fully on his criminal network and thus, on gaining money. He'd either have to go all out during that 1 gap year and source as much money as he can during that timeframe which he'd then take to Japan with him; have to rely on Wammy's House to hand him enough money upfront for this assignment out of L's funds (which likely wouldn't happen, he'd probably only receive enough to last him the first year before he starts work as an inspector); or have to live mainly on his paycheck as an inspector which. we don't know exactly how much it pays but as a job meant only for the top-ranking elites of society we can assume it's a good sum, especially when you consider how unlike most people working in the field he wouldn't need to use any of it on hue meds as a criminally asymptomatic man.

[ofcowardiceandkings]

the sinus headaches are already not great but Extra Shit has been added to the pile and im just sat on that right now trying to figure out what the fuck to do

[lazlolullaby]

Me, trying to be hyper-specific as to be clear: ah right, Darius Deamonne's love interest, with the brown hair, shorter than he is, slightly feral, pretty much nocturnal, starts out morally grey but ends up supporting their child, has a bit of an angry back and forth with petty nicknames but they like each other enough to be around each other all the time.

You, not seeing the Vision: You mean Alador?

Me: I could not be more clearly talking about Eberwolf the Huntsman.

[ickypuppi3]

i wonder how billy reacted when he found out they were moving

[anaalnathrakhs]

btw my mom said it. she said it to me looking me in the eyes. i told her about how difficult it was for me to get through those family reunions, and she admitted it was very important to her, important enough that she was just going to do it anyway.