#sheriff shithead

[fireflywitch]

have i ever mentioned that troy’s mom is my favorite unnamed side character in stranger things

[concreteparasite]

Love your games!

I played BSH hundred times, I just can't really put together Ray's background.

All we know: his parents died when he was 7+-, then he was adopted by Steel Sheriff and after 11 years of witnessing this shithead he said screw you guys and became independent hero. So he was 18.

And we have info that at 17+- (after becoming independent?) Ray was put in war/conflict? Sorry, my English fails me here 😓

Also, Ray throw something like "I was so talented that NAHA took me into herodom as a child" but it is kind of implied(?) that it happened after he became orphane.

It is all I could get from game.

I guess I misunderstood many things haha

Anyway, I am curious if Ray's parents had abilities too, did Ray get his om-nom-nom ability in artificial way or from parents?

Was NASA intended to take Ray under their control from his birth or at some pointed they noticed a boy with unique gift?

Maybe NASA even connected to parents death lol

Ray's parents throw him into NASA or it was NASA initiative to take Ray? How would his parents react on such a plan on their kiddo?

Holly Molly I am so anxious about writing this question I hope I managed to do it coherent

While typing it I came up with another question that bothers me know: how the hell Ray's abilities has been discovered? Did he accidentally kill someone and got his ability? It makes me think that NASA really planed this.

First of all, thankyou so much for enjoying my game, and thankyou for such a long and in depth message 🥰 I love reading these.

Ah, so it's the NAHA (North American Hero Association) rather than NASA.

And to answer a few questions:

- Ray's parents didn't actally die, his father wasn't around, and his mother basically sold him off to fund her addiction.

- NAHA lobbied to successfully pass a law that requires any medical center where children are born to test these infants for the proper combination of traits associated with abilities. So basically, all children with abilities are tracked in a government database. Ray and his brother were marked by the government as a 'high risk' ability (Ray's brother) and a 'potential candidate' ability (Ray) when the opportunity was presented the gov stepped in and swooped them both up.

- Abilities are not inherited, its basically a luck draw. So it was very rare that both Ray and his brother had an ability.

- Ray killed his brother when the NAHA pitted them against eachother as children.

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter Eight

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters/Pairings: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau and Ben (Soldier Boy)

Warnings: Language, typical Soldier Boy behaviour, angst, dashed dreams, mental breakdown.

W/C: 1,628

You were mad, upset, disappointed, frustrated by the lot of them. Ben sometimes acted like a child, which was ridiculous for a guy older than your grandpa. Dean and Beau had messed up, but for some damn reason, they wouldn’t apologise. They both got along like a house on fire, and you felt like you'd be constantly telling them to take Ben along with whatever the Hell they were up to, like a mother to her older sons. It was stupid and ridiculous. You weren’t a mother to any of them, and you’d be damned if you were gonna act like it.

The store was bustling, and people got in your way as you searched for Ben. He could be anywhere, which was sure. He could have even left. The thought filled with dread and panic, and hoping against all the odds, you rushed around the store like a headless chicken.

A blur of forest green caught your eye as you returned to the store’s clothing section. You'd recognise his Kevlar vested back anywhere and rushed over. He stood drinking whiskey and staring at baby clothes. Oh, fuck. Something about his demeanour put a bad feeling in your stomach.

“Ben?”

You reached out and touched his wrist. He didn’t pull away. He took another swig. You were gonna have to pay for that. Was he drunk? You didn’t know, but he probably was well on his way.

“I wanted kids. Not a lot, just a few. Two or three rugrats to call my own. I woulda raised ‘em right, too. Turns out that little shithead, Homelander, is mine, but he ain’t really, is he? He’s just a load of spunk I splurted into a test tube. An experiment. If he really was my kid, he wouldn’t be a needy little pussy crying for everyone’s attention. I mean, he wears a cape, for Christ’s sake. A fucking disappointment.”

“Ben.” You tugged his wrist gently to get him out of this kind of stupor he was in.

“I deserve some respect. I deserve to have a kid that’s not a fucking disgrace. I deserve fucking loyalty,”

He turned to you.

“And you let those doppelganger dipshits take the piss outta me. You didn’t do anything.”

The sudden turn of blame gave you whiplash.

“I—I didn’t. I didn’t know, Ben. You know that. We were together.”

He aggressively pointed a finger at your chest, disgust evident on his face.

“Fuck you, Y/N. You were more disappointed with them. I saw it in your face. It’s only cause you wanna get pounded into the next life by that floppy-haired sheriff and that hair-brained hunter. And fuck you for expecting me to react the way I did.”

His attack left you speechless, almost gasping for breath. Your mouth opened and closed multiple times, floundering to grasp words. Anything.

“You’re weak and pathetic, and I can see why your husband left you.”

You winced, physically afflicted by his cutting tongue. Emotion expanded in your chest as if the wind was knocked out. Tears stung the corners of your eyes, threatening to escape. You couldn’t cry. Not now. It meant he had won, but fuck you were struggling to keep it together. He had struck a raw nerve.

“Fuck you,” The words came shuddering out. “You don’t know anything about me.”

You sucked in a breath, feeling as though not enough went to your lungs. He stood there and took another swig from the bottle, a grimace on his lips as he stared you out.

“Trouble in paradise?”

That voice, that all too familiar smarmy voice. Your knees almost buckled, and the tears almost spilt over, but you remained strong. Oh, fuck. Things were about to go from bad to worse. You shuddered in another breath and tried to control the emotions rampaging inside.

Your ex, Mark, stood, shopping basket in hand. The worst thing was that he looked absolutely dashing as usual. Blonde hair combed and coiffed, immaculate blue eyes that always made your heart race. Or used to. Now, they made you avert your gaze. He reminded you of an assholish Chris Evans.

Seeing him brought up resentment, sadness, shame, hurt, and many other emotions. Your chest tightened. You didn’t need this now. Not when you were already feeling kicked down.

“You’re crazier than I thought. Getting your…uh boyfriend to dress up as that guy from that TV show.”

Damn it. Damn it. Damn, it! Ben wasn’t your new boyfriend, but Mark didn’t know that, and before you could tell him, he spoke again.

“Do you just date doppelgangers now?”

“No…”

God, he made you feel so inferior.

“Turns her on to no end when I do.”

Your neck swivelled so fast to Ben, who was now playing the perfect boyfriend. All charm, smirking, with no sign of the anger and hurt he had displayed a moment ago towards you.

He stepped closer, touched your shoulder, and squeezed gently.

Mark leant on one side, cocking his head.

“Hang on, your mother never said you were dating anyone. In fact, I know because she keeps wanting to set you up with Cole.”

Your jaw tensed. Mark still kept in contact with your mother. Figures. The two always got along, and when you told your mother of your divorce, she was more broken up about him not being her son-in-law than your broken relationship with Mark.

“I don’t talk to her that often.” You said in a clipped tone.

“You should. She and your dad—”

“Not my dad.” You interjected.

The sharp bite of your nails dug into the skin of your palms as you felt the anger bottle and build.

“They want you over for dinner. And why don’t you bring your new guy.”

“What a great idea!” Ben cut in, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer. He honestly had some nerve.

“I’ll let her know.”

Mark pulled out his phone, and you watched his thumbs fly across the on-screen keyboard, typing a message to your mother.

“She and your dad will be so excited.”

“Hey! Fuck nugget! Didn't you hear her say he wasn't her dad!"

Mark jumped as Ben barked at him. A slight smile curved your lips at seeing Mark lose that unflappableness, even just for a second.

“Darling, did you get the baby grows?”

A female voice trilled down the aisle. Mark turned, and so did you. The slight smile left your face. The anger dissipated. A heaviness slowly took over your whole body.

The woman walking towards Mark was heavily pregnant.

Your ears rang, your head tingled, and dizziness had you closing your eyes, trying to regain your balance and equilibrium. You didn’t hear Mark as he introduced his girlfriend. When you opened your eyes, she was smiling, radiant, a picture of perfect health. Of course, it hadn’t bypassed you that she was younger than you. No, everything about her and their relationship was a massive punch to the gut, and you couldn’t take your eyes off the way she protectively rested her hand on her belly.

Fuck. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. Thank God Ben had his arm around you because you felt like at any moment your knees would buckle and you’d crumble to the floor. If that happened, you knew you’d lose any ounce of emotional strength and break down crying.

A pair of fingers snapping in your face got your attention. They were Ben’s. You pushed his hand away and began focusing on your breathing. In. Then out. Fuck. You couldn’t do this.

“Hey, is there any chance you still have those baby clothes? I mean…you won’t be needing them.”

Wooooow.

You stared at Mark, brows pinching together. He had returned back to his usual smug self. What right did he have to ask of that? They were a gift. A visual reminder of a rapidly dwindling dream. And it hit you. He implied that you were too old to even get pregnant. Which wasn’t true. At least, you hoped.

He had shattered your dreams of having a baby. Tore the carpet right up from under your feet. He hadn’t wanted a baby with you, but rather with someone else. Pain lashed across your chest, and you turned away from them. Beau and Dean stood from afar with the cart, watching. How much had they seen? Had they even heard?

You pushed yourself free of Ben’s grip. Nausea churned like a nasty swirling vortex in your stomach. Head ringing, heart racing, you forced yourself out. Time slowed, and every step felt like you were wading in sludge.

The automatic doors finally opened, and you rushed out, stumbling, shaking. You tripped and fell, bashing your knee on the bench. You howled like a baby before retching into the bin.

A hand touched your shoulder quickly. You swatted it away before it returned again, this time to remain. A low, soothing voice filtered past the ringing. Your hair was gently pulled back, fingers massaging your head as you coughed and spluttered up bile.

Shaking, you curled, hands balled to your ears. The pain in your chest wouldn’t go away, the tears wouldn’t stop, and you didn’t think you could stop them either. Big, heavy, ugly, full chest heaving sobs wracked your body.

Arms wrapped around you, pulling you into them, tight, shielding you from the nosy crowds. A hand curled around the back of your head, pushing you into a strong chest. You gripped the soft material of their jacket with all the strength you had. That same deep, soothing voice filtered into your ears.

Ben was right. You were weak. You were pathetic.

You weren’t good enough to make a baby with. You weren’t young enough. You just weren’t enough.

Tags: @yvonneeeee, @curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelica, @k-slla, @deans-spinster-witch, @ashdoctor, @eretsupremacy89, @fanfic-n-tabulous, @deans-number-one-fan, @afro-hispwriter, @justjensenandhisalteregos, @tiredstrangerr, @zemosdarling228.

[catsfor2]

out west (ellie x reader)

warnings: guns/firearms

a/n: howdy guys. not sure if this is what everyone was picturing but this was SO MUCH FUN to write ☺️😋☺️. i definitely do not think they used the word “daddy” in the wild west but i wanted to use it soooo😩😩😩😩also here are the random bits of western slang i used (taradiddles - lies, rumours. sage hen - woman, lady. ‘at sea’ - scared/confused. bellyache - worry. flannel mouth - shithead politician basically) im sorry if i effed this up 0_0 -j

His oversized poncho was black. So was the bandanna covering his mouth, and the large hat hiding his eyes. His revolver, resting like a small child in his gloved hand, stares you down mercilessly.

The figure looked of a ghost. A silent, lifeless bundle of fabrics, rippling in the wind. No face. No skin. No humanity.

And he matched the description of the poster exactly.

“No—no, please, my—my Daddy, he’s the sheriff! It’s more trouble than I’m worth, I’m tellin’ you, please!” You beg, eyes beginning to water and voice already panicked.

He says nothing, boot-clad feet pounding the wood floor carelessly as he walks towards you.

“If you do this he’ll find you! He won’t stop until he finds you! Please don’t!”

It was like talking to a pile of bricks.

The outlaw continues to charge ahead, wordlessly, and you find yourself desperately trying to see where his eyes would land under his hat. He approaches, big and brooding, until you’re face to face with that soulless bandana and downright trembling.

“I—I’d make a real good wife, really, I’ve learned all the—the sewin’, the cookin’ and—and ranchin’! I know it all I promise! It’d be a waste!” You plea, knowing it’s a last resort, knowing this man does not care.

In an instant, his hands clutch your shoulders and forcibly shove you to the side and out of his way, sending you stumbling. His attention lands and focuses on the wall that was behind you.

The poster?

Suddenly, his arm thrusts out and snatches it, like the crack of a whip, before frantically tearing the paper into tiny little pieces.

You watch as they all float down to the floor, feathery and weightless.

You see the brim of his hat turn to you first, and then his head, slowly, like he’s noticing your presence for the first time.

The hand not holding his revolver rises calmly, loosening the edges of his bandanna just a touch. He clears his throat.

“Girl like you knows how to ranch?”

Your eyes almost pop out of your head.

“You’re—”

“Sorry, these damn posters—always…writin’ up taradiddles. Got people thinkin’ I’m some madman, when really,” a finger flicks the rim of the hat, flipping it off of his head and into his grasp. “I’m no man at all.”

You feel yourself reeling, barely able to understand his words, or, her words. The hat had covered up her blue eyes, almost oceanic in color. The bandanna, hiding her soft thin lips. Basically criminal, all the fabric denying you sight of her face.

She went against almost everything Daddy had taught you. It was as terrifying as it was alluring.

“Well you look a bit at sea, darlin’. Why so scared?” She asks, placing her revolver in its holster and walking a bit closer to you.

“I—I don’t get how,”

“How? How what? How a sage hen can shoot? I can tell you right now I cut a cleaner whistle than your Daddy.” She grins, palm now itching closer to her weapon.

“No I—I believe you, it’s alright. Please don’t bring that back out.” You rush, the fear starting to sink back into you.

“Oh, honey, I don’t hunt the good ones. You’ve nothin’ to be scared of,” She assures you, her hand reaching out and feeling some of your hair. “now that sheriff Daddy of yours? Can’t say the same for him.”

You pause, hands balling into fists.

“You know what? My Daddy told me all about you and what you’ve done. I wouldn’t be speakin' so kindly of yourself.” You bite, slightly catching the gunslinger off guard with your tone.

“Oh, did he? Well your Daddy clearly don’t know me too well,” she rebukes, gesturing to the torn pieces of poster under her boots. “do you always believe everythin’ Daddy says?”

“Of course not—”

“I bet Daddy told you that storks bring the babies, right? Did he tell you that?”

“When I was young, but—”

“I bet he also told you about marriage then? One man and one woman?”

You stop talking.

What was wrong about that? Isn’t that how marriage is?

“Most of all, I bet he done told you all about the perfect husband you’re gonna get. Some flannel mouth he works with. Daddy’s girl only gets the best, right? That what he say?”

“I—” You turn your head, a little defeated. “I ain’t marryin’ no flannel mouth,”

“Oh yeah? That’s what’ll happen if you keep listenin’ to Daddy.”

“You don’t know jack. Just a crazy woman with a shootin’ iron. You won’t ever find a husband, I know it.” You spit, not even really believing your own words.

She laughs, rather abruptly, hands rested in the loops of her gun holster.

“Got no bellyaches about that, darlin’. I promise you.” She says knowingly, eyes unwilling to break their gaze from you.

You don’t quite understand what she means by it, especially the way she’s grinning, so you say nothing. Her eyes watch you darkly, following your movements and sending messages you can't translate.

Before she can speak, you remember.

“Oh—my Daddy’s gonna be back soon. I don’t want you to be here when he does.” You tell her, glancing at the doorway behind the both of you.

“I won’t be.”

“Alright—will…will I see you again?”

“Oh sweetheart, you want to?” She questions, starting to re-tie the black bandanna around her mouth.

You blush, sweetly, and the outlaw basks in it. She takes her hat back off, kisses it gently, and places it in your hands.

Her head moves to your neck, barely getting close enough to your ear and whispering faintly.

“Tell Daddy it’s from a suitor, yeah?”

Your cheeks heat, sheerly from how close she is, but also at her words, which feel so much dirtier than they should be to you.

Following that, her leather-covered hands grab your face, and she places a warm kiss on your cheek through the bandanna.

Only lightly could you feel the outline of her lips in the fabric, and it sets you on fire nonetheless.

“Thank you,” you murmur, unsure of how to respond and dizzy with excitement.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she warns, voice a bit muffled. She pulls down the bandanna one last time, and with a wink, tells you,

“I’ll be back for my hat.”

[myosotisa]

Half Life - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader, Jim Hopper & Reader

‖  summary: Four known responses to panic - flight, fight, fawn, and freeze. You used to alternate between three depending on what the situation called for. Now that Eddie is back and in danger again, it feels like all you're capable of doing anymore is fighting.

‖  tags: hurt/comfort, heavy angst with a happy ending. post season 4 vol 2 (eddie lives). hospital setting but no graphic descriptions of anything medical, grief, unresolved trauma, PTSD responses. violence (street fight), mentions of blood, broken knuckles. a single gunshot (aimed at the sky). shithead town of Hawkins meet traumatized young adults. ACAB!!!!!!! Hopper helps (platonically). no y/n, no pronouns, reader is referred to as a bitch, princess, angel, and an attack dog. this came to me in a vision and i spat out line after line like a prophet.

‖  word count: 2.8k

Since the moment Eddie was extracted from the Upside Down, you have been hovering. Non-stop, constantly vigilant of where he was and who was with him.

You were already just a heap of exposed nerves after everything the group had been through and, after thinking you’d lost him, you were not about to lose him again.

When he was in the hospital, handcuffed to his bed even though he couldn’t have gone anywhere even if he wanted to, you stayed. Days you stayed. Wayne and Steve and Nancy would come by, begging you to leave just for a few hours, but you couldn’t. If you weren’t watching him, he might be gone again. As long as you were there, as long as you could hold his hand and wipe the sweat off his brow, then he was okay. He was alive.

One time Steve tried to forcibly remove you, thinking he was helping, and you’d lashed out at him like a feral animal. Kicked and scratched until he let you go. You’d immediately apologized profusely, begged for his forgiveness as you helped him clean the scratches. He forgave you so easily, more than you deserved, and just explained he didn’t want to lose you too.

After that, you allowed yourself to sleep in one of the chairs in the hospital room as long as someone else was there. If Steve, or Nancy, or Wayne, or Jonathan, or Hopper, or Joyce was watching over him, you could sleep.

At least, until the nightmares came back.

When he woke up for the first time, you were there. Happy tears springing to your eyes and hands hovering all over him as he sleepily blinked his eyes open and tried to reach for your hand. You met him halfway, squeezing hard to let him know you were there – he was alive. And left to go call Wayne with the good news.

It was one of the only times you had left. At all.

When you came in with a relieved smile, ready to tell him Wayne was coming, there was a police officer standing beside the bed, bent over toward him. Eddie looked even paler than he had when you left, trying to put on a brave face despite the way his speech was still slurred and it seemed like he could barely keep his eyes open.

“Hey!” Your voice was sharp, silver tipped as you marched forward, smile gone and scowl in place. The officer shifted slightly toward you as he turned, giving you just enough space to force yourself between him and Eddie. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Ma’am,” he said, condescension dripping from his mouth like poison, looking down his nose at you. “Mr. Munson is the main suspect in a series of gruesome murders and remains an extremely dangerous individual. I suggest you back away.”

His teeth clenched, an internal war going on behind his eyes. You took another step forward, eyes narrowing into a glare as you spit in his face, “Now get the fuck out of here before I call the sheriff and you lose your shiny little badge.”

The animal came back, lips turning up in a snarl as you took a menacing step closer. He must’ve sensed the danger because he took a step back on instinct. “I suggest you get some fucking proof and a goddamn warrant before you come back here and threaten a man who woke up from a coma 30 minutes ago.”

This seems to amuse him, a huff of air coming out of his nose. “On what grounds?”

Your snarl turns sharp, mouth turning up like you’re so glad that he asked. “When I tell him you did this to me.”

Lifting the sleeve of your shirt, you showed him the heavy bruising of a handprint there, leftover wounds from battles that were healing too slowly. He faltered slightly, eyes moving from the bruising to your wild look. “I didn’t do that, you can’t pin that on me.”

“Oh yeah?” You took another step forward, he took another step back. “And who will they believe Officer Courtney? You? Or me?”

“Are you okay?” Your hand came up to his jaw, panicked eyes searching his tired face.

The sudden dose of fear he showed soothed the animal as he muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like ‘psycho bitch’ before turning on his heel and walking away. You watched him go until he disappeared before you turned toward Eddie, looking him over for new wounds.

Eddie’s head shifted slightly in a nod, eyes drifting closed again as he almost nuzzled into your hand. “Yeah, Angel. I’m okay.”

“I’d burn this whole fucking town to the ground before I let anyone hurt you again.”

That night, when the floor was almost silent, the only light being the one above his hospital bed, he held your hand and tearfully explained that he was afraid. He was confused, on heavy painkillers, handcuffed, vulnerable. Someone from the town would try to kill him, mess up his dosing on purpose, smother him with a pillow, anything they could if they got their hands on him.

“As long as they think I did those things, they will never leave me alone.”

The paranoia got worse. Eddie still slept the majority of the days, only having a handful of waking hours, and you watched. It was back to the beginning – you didn’t sleep, you barely ate, you were terrified to even leave just to go to the bathroom.

I’d stepped away for just a few minutes to make a call and they could’ve taken him from me.

Wayne begged you just to sleep, to eat, to take a shower, to do something other than sit in that chair beside his bed and glare at anyone new who even tried to get close to him. You couldn’t – you couldn’t do it – couldn’t leave him.

By sheer luck, the next time someone from the sheriff’s office came by to question Eddie, Hopper was with you.

He had never once tried to force you to do anything. Hadn’t asked you to leave or sleep. When he came to visit, all he did was bring a bunch of food (with hopes you might eat it), sit down beside you, and watch. Sometimes the two of you talked, sometimes you didn’t. You knew very little about what happened to him in Russia. He didn’t want to talk about it. That was fine with you.

Hopper was the only one who made you feel like maybe your shoulders weren’t made of stone. Maybe you didn’t have to keep your teeth razor sharp and primed to kill. Maybe you could eat some food, take a nap in your chair.

When the officers walked in, you were already gearing to jump to your feet, snapping jaws at the ready, but a heavy hand hit your forearm. Wait, it told you. Hold your fire.

“Gentlemen,” the pair of officers straightened up. His tone still held authority and they had been on the force long enough to still know who he is. Who he was. “What can we do for you?”

“We have some questions for Mr. Munson related to the murders.”

As if sensing even the smallest twitch of your muscles, or maybe it was just instinct from one predator to another, his palm pressed harder. Wait. 

“As you can see, he’s resting right now and it would be against his doctor’s orders to wake him.” His voice was lethal calm. Where you were fire, fight, and flame, Hopper was cold, silent, and deadly. Russian snow and prison cruelty sunken into his very bones.

“It will only be a few minutes,” one of them assured, almost mockingly, like they didn’t give a damn what his doctor had to say. “And if he is innocent, then he should have nothing to hide.”

There was a little bit more back and forth but both officer’s departed, leaving Eddie peacefully asleep in his bed, tattooed arm draped over his stomach. When Hopper removed his hand, it had you crumbling. Breaking down, shuttering, and collapsing inward. Strong arms, stable arms, deadly arms, wrapped around your shoulders as you started to cry. Started to sob your broken heart out.

You inhaled sharply through your teeth as the officer's eyes flicked to you almost nervously. Munson’s attack dog, they’d called you when they thought no one could hear. Attack dog was right. You were looking for any excuse to tear their fucking throats out with your teeth.

Hopper’s fingertips pressed in harder. Wait, they instructed again through touch alone. “Innocent until proven guilty, isn’t that the ol’ saying boys?” His mouth turned up in a dry smile as theirs turned to frowns. He was an enemy now, against them. But while Eddie was wounded and you were an arrest waiting to be made if you so much as touched them – Hopper was impenetrable. Untouchable. An American hero brought back to life. There was nothing they could do to him.

You hadn’t broken down like this since they pulled him out.

Hopper just held your head to his shoulder, let you soak his t-shirt in tears, held you as you cried, and cried, and cried. Thank you’s poured from your gasping lungs, endless and slurring as you fisting your fingers in him. Thank you for being alive, thank you for being here, thank you for protecting him, thank you for stopping me.

From that day forward, you would allow yourself to leave the hospital if you knew Hopper was going to be there.

You slept in a bed for the first time in who knows how long. Changed into real clothes. Ate a home cooked meal that Joyce brought to you. You still ended up at the hospital every day, but when Hopper was there, you could find just a little bit of peace. He would keep Eddie safe. You knew that without a doubt.

Wayne could be pushed over with enough force, the other members of the group were still barely adults and had little room to fight, but Hopper (and probably Joyce) were just as determined as you.

You will get to this man over my dead body.

A late night with Hopper had you talking. Well after midnight, just the two of you, unable or unwilling to sleep, the two of you talked more than you had over any of the other days. “Didn’t you dislike Eddie? He was a drug dealer, constantly in and out of trouble.” You’d asked him, fingers running through the ends of the subject’s curly hair as he slept.

“Dislike? No. He fucked up a lot. Maybe more than some other kids. But… He’s not a bad guy. I had my moments where I thought he might be, but when the kids explained everything he’d done for them… A bad guy doesn’t do shit like that for his friends.”

And it almost looked like he was going to smile.

The day they okay’d Eddie’s release to Wayne’s custody – on the grounds he didn’t leave the trailer unless he was requested to by the sheriff – you, Steve, Nancy, and Hopper were all there. Hopper hung back, chain smoking by Wayne’s truck as the rest of you helped Eddie get discharged and into a wheelchair to get to the truck.

You were barely a few feet out the door when a group began to approach. Basketball players – the remaining members of Jason’s hit squad and two others. “Hey!” One of them called as they walked up, like they’d been told when he was going to be discharged. “We’ve got a bone to pick with you, Munson.”

You and Steve stepped out, putting yourself between the group of four and the others, while Nancy assisted Wayne in pushing a drugged out Eddie towards the car faster. “You don’t wanna do this, Josh.” Steve started, ever the diplomat.

“Oh yeah, Harrington?” He snarked back, hand twisting at the baseball bat he had resting on his shoulder. “And why’s that?”

“He’s innocent, man,” Josh and Andy rolled their eyes, elbowing the others like ‘get a load of this guy’. “He didn’t kill Chrissy, or Patrick, or Jason. Or anyone.”

“Just get out of the way, has-been,” Andy barked, taking a few steps closer. “Don’t make us beat you down too, like that picture taking loser who stole your girlfriend.”

Steve’s jaw clenched as he held his ground. Andy took a few steps closer, the others on his tail, and you stepped up. He laughed, looking you up and down as they slowed their approach. “And who are you, princess? Another one of Munson’s followers?”

He laughed again, waving you out of his way like a fly. “That’s cute, now get the fuck out of the way before you get hurt.”

“You don’t need to know who I am,” your voice was white hot fire, inhuman to your own ears as you spoke. One of the guys hesitated when you locked eyes with him. Weak link. “The only thing you need to know is that you should turn around if you want to leave here with your balls still intact.”

Andy was bigger than you, stronger than you, but he was on the ground before any of them could process you were on the move. Your fist swung, knuckles cracking against his jaw as he groaned. A pair of hands grabbed you from behind, pulling you off of him. An arm came around your shoulders and you bit hard. Pennies hitting your tongue as the hold faltered, falling completely when you stamped your heel back on their foot.

The animal lunged.

Before they could recover, you took one step forward and swung your boot into the space between Andy’s legs, showing absolutely no mercy in the act. He screamed out in a high pitch, immediately curling into a ball on the concrete below you.

Hands grabbed at you again, arms hooking through yours and pinning them down. You kicked out, throwing your legs forward and back while you struggled as hard as you physically could to break the hold. Ahead of you, Steve had Josh pinned to the floor, blood on his knuckles, but then Josh had them flipped, his own fist coming down instead. Steve needed your help, Eddie needed your help, the guys behind were struggling to hold you, losing their grip. You thrashed harder, nearly dislocating your own shoulder as you fought against them, dragging you further away from Steve who was trying to get the upper hand again.

They need you, they need you, they need you–

A gunshot rang out and everyone froze.

Hopper stood a few feet away, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a pistol aimed high in the air. “Now how about everyone calm down for a few minutes, ‘kay?”

The hands dropped you unexpectedly, sending you to your knees. The animal was ready to jump, to go, to fight but was frozen by blue eyes pinning you to the ground. Wait, they told you in a heavy gaze. Hold your fire.

Another set of harsh words from Hopper had the boys retreating, licking their wounds and helping Andy to his feet before they all piled into a station wagon and peeled out of the parking lot. Steve ran the back of his hand over his split lip and you spit someone else’s blood out onto the concrete as you slowly got to your feet. You approached Hopper, preparing for a different kind of fight – for a scolding, for disapproval.

His face was emotionless until you were right in front of him. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his boot. The gun was gone again, probably into some concealed holster. He held out his hand and you looked at it confused until he grabbed at your arm and brought your own hand up to his eyes.

“Broke two knuckles,” he informed you, thumb pressing to the bones as you hissed out through your teeth. He let your hand drop and tucked his own into his pockets. “Gotta learn how to throw a punch properly.”

And then he turned to walk back toward the car. Not another word between you.

Steve clapped you on the back, bringing you back to reality as he murmured something about the fight. He trailed you over to Wayne’s truck that sat running by the hospital sidewalk. You ripped open the back door, stepping up on the rail as Eddie twisted toward you, a dopey smile on his face.

“Hey Angel,” he said, syrupy sweet and reaching out, “Are you okay?”

You had two broken knuckles and your mouth tasted like blood. There was a wild animal loose in you that you could barely control. You had half a mind to go after all of those fucking cowards and hunt them down. There was so much rage and fear and pain and it felt like it was choking you.

A strong hand gripped your shoulder from behind, fingertips digging in. Hold your fire.

You smiled at him as tears sprung to your eyes, taking his hand in your unhurt one and intertwining your fingers. “I’m okay, Eds. Everything will be okay.”

-

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thanks for reading!! please reblog and leave a reaction if you liked it, they make my day <3

[dreamersbcll]

Omg i was watching scrram 5 and i just had an idea for a prompt.

So what if in that hospital scene when judy tells sam that "when the sun comes up, she should leave", sam actually does that? Because she thinks she's only causing tara more trouble but tara stops her.

“Leave”

she said “love me” so i loved her, she said “leave me” so i left

——————————————————————————-

“Like we’ve been so far?”

Sam knew the moment the words tumbled out of her mouth she made a mistake. But she couldn’t help it. How could she? She had just been attacked in the hospital where her injured sister lay after being stabbed by the same asshole in the mask. It was a ridiculous notion that one fucking cop would keep them sake.

Hell, give Sam a gun. She could lock this down.

But Officer Judy, well, Hicks now, didn’t love that answer.

Smiling tight-lipped, Officer Hicks spoke firmly. “Samantha, let’s step outside.”

Fuck.

As she stepped outside, Sam gave herself an internal pep talk. She wasn’t going to back down from the shitty cop that arrested her too many times. Sam wasn’t afraid of Deputy Hicks- she was just a cop. Sam was older now and clean. She knew better, and she wasn’t going to stand down.

Sam straightened up, glaring at the woman. “Nice to see you, Deputy Hicks. So many fun memories,” she lamented, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

The woman smiled sickly, her face confronting into a pained smile. “It’s Sheriff Hicks. I remember you, too. And all the trouble you used to cause your family,” Hicks sniped, looking Sam up and down.

And damn it to hell, Sam stiffened at that. She fucking loathed that the woman wasn’t wrong. Sam was a menace to the Carpenter name, a shitstain across that family history. A monster to a family that she wasn’t actually a part of.

Sam was Loomis. And like Loomis’ did best, they destroyed everything in their path.

Judy smirked at the look on Sam’s face, smugly knowing she had her beat. “Your presence here is not helping. So maybe, when the sun comes up, you and your boyfriend can hit the road and leave it to people who actually care about this community.”

With that, Offi- Deputy- Hicks walked off, leaving Sam and the other shithead cop to stare at each other. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. Fuck. She couldn’t let this go on any longer.

Sam had to tell Tara who she was and what she had done to their family.

——

Naturally, Sam fucked it up.

“I just couldn’t be around you, Tara,” she whispered, her heart tearing in two at the way Tara froze.

Fuck.

She cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice level. “Not only because I destroyed our family that night, but because those diaries told me who my real father was.”

The two sat there, staring at each other. Sam could see in Tara’s eyes the little girl she once broke and who she was about to fail again. It’s funny. Sam always thought she would be able to visit home years into the future, and Tara would be older, and they could reunite once again. Like it should be.

But she would never get the chance again once she uttered the name that tainted her heart and plagued her life from the age of thirteen and on.

She might as well rip the bandaid off now.

“It was Billy Loomis,” she blurted out, tears blurring her vision. “And somebody knows, and I’m so fucking sorry that I never told you and that I ran away. I’m so-”

“Get out,” Tara softly spat out, her voice cold and eyes vacant.

Sam froze; her mouth hung open, almost cartoonishly. Her little sister stared Sam down, her eyes darkening with rage, her lips curling in disdain.

Tara spoke quietly, her voice tight. “Five years. Five whole years, and then I get stabbed, and then you want to dump all this shit on me?”

Swallowing hard, Sam gasped, shaking her head violently. “No, no, I swear, I was trying to protect you-”

“-Protect me from what?” Tara whispered, her face painted with disbelief. “The truth?”

“No, no, I- Please, Tara,” she begged, her hands shaking.

But it was too late. It was always too late for Sam. She was so good at destroying everything, demolishing any perfect thing she had ever held. All she could do was beg on deaf ears.

“Sam, I need you to get the fuck out.”

Sam shook her head, reaching out for Tara’s hand. “No, please-”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Sam froze at her sister’s tone, faltering at the tear-filled eyes she had seen far too often. Fuck. She was so good at fucking it all up. So good at ruining everything she touched. And here she was again, burning down the relationship that was already a pile of broken twigs.

She had seen the film before. She knew the ending, and she didn’t like it. This was the part where she was exiled from the love she knew and left forever.

Maybe if she left, Tara would be safe.

So she got up and collected her things, beelining for the door. As she pushed through it, she could feel her sister’s eyes on her back, those eyes adding insult to injury.

The door shut behind her with a soft click, and Sam rested her forehead against it, focusing on swallowing her tears. There was no amount of crying that Sam could do for this. She ruined it all. It was all her fault, and fears were futile. They wouldn’t fix this.

Fuck, Sam couldn’t even fix this if she tried. All she did was fuck up.

Sam wiped away the few tears that escaped, sniffling softly. She turned on her heel and walked towards the exit, her jacket in one hand and her keys in the other.

The soft jangle of keys was the only thing keeping her stable as she death marched to the elevator.

“Sam!”

Shaking her head, Sam gripped her keys a little tighter, letting the cold teeth sink into her skin. Stupid. She’s so stupid. She’s just hearing things. It was a matter of time before her brain would twist itself back up again. What a fucking idiot she was.

“Sam!”

She paused, her finger hovering over the buttons. That couldn’t be… no. Tara wouldn’t. It was Sam’s fault. She was just hearing things. Her meds were just fucking with her head. Yeah, that was it.

The yelling didn’t stop.

“Sam! Samantha Carpenter!”

Sam turned around, peeing down the hallway. The shouting was coming from the room she was just in. Tara’s room. That didn’t sound right. Fuck, that couldn’t be right. She wasn’t worth fighting for. Sam was the reason their family was so fucked-up in the first place.

But still, the voice yelled.

“Sammy,” the voice hoarsely screamed, slightly muffled by the door it hid behind.

What the hell.

She fled down the hallway, trying to control her body. Her limbs felt foreign, her movements jerky and uncontrolled. It took everything in her not to sprint down the hallway, throw open that door, and collapse into the arms that she loved.

But that would be ridiculous and much too soon. So, instead, she sped-walked and slowly made her way to the door. She paused in front of it, trying to control her breathing. Tara didn’t deserve her tears, her blubbering. This was Sam’s fuck up. She had to pull it together.

Opening the door slowly, Sam kept her eyes averted, her head down. She could feel her little sister’s eyes on her, burning holes in her skin. Righteous holes.

“Sam,” Tara breathed, her voice filled with wonder.

As if Sam wouldn’t do anything for her.

Sam nodded jerkily, her cheeks blushing. “Yeah?”

Her little sister spoke softly, her voice wavering with choked-up fear. “Please don’t go.”

Sam was sure the sky was purple, and the year was 3024. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what she deserved. She was a fucking Loomis. This wasn’t the end of the storyline she deserved.

This wasn’t what a sinner like her deserved.

She paused, her mouth dry. “You want me to stay?” she said, her voice strangled.

Don’t show emotion. Don’t be weak. Be strong. Your sister needs strength. Not your pathetic tears.

Tara nodded, closing her eyes as if she couldn’t handle another one of Sam’s rejections. “Please.”

Sam closed the door behind her, the soft click forcing Tara to open her eyes. Unbridled relief and brief flashes of joy flickered through her little sister’s eyes, all because Sam was standing right before her.

She didn’t deserve this. She never would. But here she was, all for her sister’s taking.

Tara motioned to the chair next to her, eyes glassy—those beautiful brown eyes. They had haunted Sam for years, and here they were, still warm.

Forcing her legs to move, Sam quickly made her way across the floor and sat down in the chair next to her little sister. Tara just observed her quietly, taking in her sister’s every move. Sam bowed her head in admission, refusing to make eye contact with her little sister— like a stray dog, Sam didn’t know how to love when all she knew was loneliness.

But her little sister did.

“Just, stay. I can’t watch you leave again. I can’t do that again. Please, just stay,” Tara cried softly, her voice thick with tears.

So many words swirled through Sam’s head. I’m sorry, for one. I love you, and I didn’t mean to hurt you, was another. I have always loved you, and I thought of you every single day, was the best one that sat on her tongue.

Yet, she couldn’t get herself to say it. She couldn’t get the courage to let it all out. It was too early. It was all too early to say the things she should’ve said years ago. She just got Tara back in her life, and their relationship was hanging on by a thread.

Despite her chest aching and her heart tearing at the seams, Sam said three words, three words she had been dying to tell since the day she left all those years ago.

“Okay. I’ll stay.”

And so she did.

[lucky-bishop]

WIP Tag Game!!

Thanks for the tags, @dear-massacre and @rosieposiepuddingnpie!!

I have so many WIPs. Like. Too many. Some of these will probably never end up actually getting written. BUT, alas, here we go!

Non-Teen Wolf:

Nadja Pegs Laszlo (WWDITS)

The one-brain cell polycule (WWDITS)

Guillermo Mercy Kills Nandor (WWDITS)

Gay Besties (endgame Steddie but mostly abt the Steve & Robin friendship, Stranger Things)

Teen Wolf, Not Prompts:

7 minutes in heaven (Stiles' sexy birthday celebration w/ the pack)

A Parting Gift (MCD) The nogitsune leaves a gift behind. Sterek.

Affectionate Biting - Malia's love language is Biting

Lonely Girl (MCD) - Allison's ghost haunts Lydia

Alpha Peter bitches Stiles

Shifter Royalty Stilinski Family Steter

Extra Hedonist Peter w/ Bottom Dom Stiles

S1 monster of the week crack feat. the sheriff, Scott, Stiles, and Derek

Deputy Chris Argent, endgame Chris/Sheriff

DILF Chris Argent, mostly Stargent w/ endgame Stiles/Chris/Isaac

Erica Prom Queen Murder Spree

FBI Trainee Stiles

Stiles can't suck dick but Peter uses his face in Other ways

Monsterfucker dildo where Stiles gets a monster mate

Steter monsterfucking in the woods

Peter's presumptuous when he gets with Stiles but ends up getting an actual BDSM education

Non-con mating bite, Steter

Possessive Peter Steterek! The only one of these that's currently on AO3 as Possessive Beasts!

Peter babytraps omega Stiles

Sciles makes an "if we're not married by x" pact and then commits shenanigans trying to keep each other single

Unrequited Stiles/Scott where Scott rejects Stiles

Crack shrunken Peter fic

Smart Scott 5+1

Stiles/Peter/Deucalion college fic

Stargent Painting Fic - inspired by Lorde

Dark Stargent - Chris takes Stiles as a surrogate daughter after Allison dies

Sterek (MCD) - Derek returns to find Beacon Hills, and Stiles, in shambles. He tries to save them both.

Peter finding out that Stiles doesn't trust him even though they're together, inspired by T.Swift "Hoax"

Steter "hands are meant to be held" Valentine fic

Part 3 of the Steterek feminization where Stiles tops the hell out of Derek and Peter

Stiles is horny and has access to a 3d printer (Steter getting together)

Stiles/Cora/Derek dangerous Hales make Stiles horny

My very Steter take on The Train Station

Stiles gets bit by a grindr hookup fic

Transmasc Stiles and TA Peter get together

Teen Wolf & Buffy fusion, where Stiles is a Watcher (end game Stetopher)

Untitled Sterek watersports fic

Writer in the Dark, another Lorde-inspired fic, with the Kira/Cora pairing!

Teen Wolf, Prompts:

Greenberg has an absolute glo-up and everyone Notices

Stiles and Scott go looking for trouble (feral Derek and Peter) and they find it

Co-Alphas Scott and Derek fuck

Derek is being thrown a surprise party, but doesn't like surprises, and this leads to him and Stiles boning

Derek spanks Scott and Stiles for being shitheads towards him

Peter shows off wearing panties and the whole pack takes turns taking them off of him

Fox Stiles and Scott are roommates, and they compete to respectively make Peter and Lydia loud in bed

So I guess. That's technically 45 wips which is actually insane! Especially because that doesn't count any of the ~10 events or so I will probably participate in per year!

Anyway tagging: @lavender-lotion, @beaconfeels, @like-lazarus, @thotpuppy, @midnightwinterhawk, @meggie-stardust and anyone else who would like to play along!

[baziutawrites]

Too little, too late

Xavier Thorpe x Female OC (Valerye Zamoyski)

Beginnings part 5

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

Other smut fics through my Masterlist.

Summary: Xavier gets braver. But will this be enough this late?

Warnings I guess: Fluff, angst, missed signals, miscommunication. Bit of smut. Slow burn. Two oblivious idiots back at it again.

"Val! Bianca!" Yoko and Enid ran towards them, their Pilgrim costumes askew.

They pushed their way through the crowd that was now thinning. The ambulance lights were gradually getting smaller and smaller, vanishing in the distance. 

"What happened? Why is there blood all over the place? Oh my god I am feeling nauseous." 

"Where is Xavier?" Principal Weems turned her head towards the shouting, her face hard as stone. 

She was talking with the town's sheriff and it seemed she didn't like the words she was hearing from him.  There was also something in her eyes that told Val there could be trouble. 

One of the boys that assaulted Xavier was apparently the Mayor's son. The other one, the one who harassed her at the cafe, Tyler, was the sheriff's son. 

The resemblance now undeniable, as he stood next to the officer. Leaning casually against the car with a lazy smirk plastered across his face. 

His eyes followed Weems and Val thought she saw his smile falter a little, when he saw her looking directly at him. If she could, she would spit at him. But then it would not be 'improving the relations' any further.

She smiled bitterly at the way Tyler flinched under her heavy stare. She turned back towards the girls. Divina was now at their side too, along with Cameron and Kent. 

"Why there is blood all over your apron?" This was going to be a long evening. 

***

Yoko stood with Valerye on the balcony of their dorm room, leaning over the railing, a cigarette in her mouth.

 Her glasses were off and she rubbed at her eyes. Tired after the abysmal day and not giving a shit about the eyeliner still lining her eyelids.  

"But why would they do that?" She asked for the fifth time since they got back to their dorm. And for the fifth time Val answered, after puffing out a cloud of smoke into the cold night air. 

"Have no clue. Bunch of shitheads." 

"Thank gods you noticed. I can't imagine how far they would've gone…" 

Val swallowed thickly. She could still sense the coppery smell of blood, almost as if it bit into her hair and skin. It made her shiver at the memory of Xavier's bruised face. 

"How did you manage to scare them off?" Yoko looked at her, a curious look in her eyes. "No offence but you don't look particularly intimidating." 

That was the question Val dreaded the most. She remained silent, frantically scrambling for some sort of an explanation. When she didn't answer, Yoko continued. 

"Bianca said something about them screaming when they saw you. Something about you looking like a demon? And she swore she saw your hands being black?" 

"Must've smeared them in paint by accident." Val mumbled and took a long drag to buy her some time. 

It didn't work. 

"You still didn't answer me." 

Val couldn't bear to look Yoko in the eyes now. She could feel her friend getting annoyed at her. 

"Look, whatever is going on with you right now, I get that you might not want to talk about it. I get it. But don't lie to me." 

Val's eyes snapped up to Yoko's face. Val could still see the annoyance that hardened Yoko's features. Even with her usual emotionless mask on.

She was about to say something. Deny the truth further. 

There was a loud knock on the door and Ms. Thornhill's muffled voice sounded inside their dorm.

"Girls? Open up." 

They both scrambled frantically to put out their cigarettes. Tipping the ashtray over the balcony. Val pushed the incriminating items into the mouth of the Gargoyal on the side railing. Yoko went to answer the door. The red haired dorm 'mum' stood in the doorway. Eyes following Valerye's clumsy attempts to step inside over the windowsill. 

"You were not smoking now, were you… no, on the second thought, don't answer. Today I do not want to know." She gave them a reassuring smile. 

She always made Val a bit uneasy with her mannerisms. She couldn't quite put her finger on what exactly caused her to feel this way.  

Miss Thornhill's features turned into a solemn expression, her gaze focused on Val now. "Miss Zamoyski, the Principal wants to see you in her office." 

"Now?" 

"Yes. Now come."

Val exchanged confused looks with Yoko. Before she could say anything, Miss Thornhill put her hand around Val. Steering her out of the room and into the cool air of the Ophelia hall. 

*** 

The Principal's office would have been quite pleasant, if it wasn't for the reason Val was brought there.  The warm glow of the fireplace bathed the rooms surfaces in soft flickering light.  

"Thank you, Miss Thornhill. You can leave now."

There was the uneasy feeling again. Crawling up her neck and into her head, making her mind race with endless excuses. When the door clicked behind Ms Thornhill, Weems turned towards her.  She studyed Val from behind the desk.  

"I think you know why I brought you here?" 

Val felt a lump form in her throat. The worry must had shown, because Weems's face softened, her red lips no longer forming a thin line. She sighed and gestured towards the chair on the other side. 

"Sit."

"How is he?" Val complied, perching herself stiffly on the edge of the seat, her voice small. 

She felt hot and cold at the same time, shivers running up and down her arms. 

"Mr Thorpe is to make a swift recovery but to make sure, he will stay at the hospital for a few days for some further testing." 

It didn't make Val feel any better. In fact, she felt even more worried. 

"If he's okay, why does he need to stay there? He didn't look any sort of okay when they took him." 

"I appreciate your concern about your classmate but I assure you he is in good hands right now." 

"But–" 

"Miss Zamoyski," The principal now straightened, her face turning stern again. "Mr Thorpe's condition is not what I want to discuss with you tonight." 

It was Val's turn to press her lips together into a tight line, her jaw clenched. The looming sense of dread she had felt when Miss Thornhill swept her from her dorm room returned. It seeped into her body, tensing almost every muscle. 

She knew perfectly well what's to come but it didn't make it any easier to sit there and wait for it. 

"I assume you are aware by now, of the accusations the four boys put through regarding your behaviour tonight?" 

"My behaviour?" Anger suddenly ignited in her chest. 

Was Weems out of her mind? Did she not see what they did to Xavier? 

"They all claim they've been a subject of your assault by using your particular… powers." Weems talked over her, a warning lacing her tone now. 

"They all claim to seeing you transform into 'a demon' of sorts." 

Val couldn't help but snort, shaking her head, but froze the second the principal continued. Her voice steely now. 

"Do you realise the severity of those accusations? Considering your and your family's current situation? Especially when they all claim to have seen the very same thing. Very damning, very specific type of thing." 

The colour drained from Val's face. The hard reality of the situation crashed over her finally. She felt as if an iron fist grabbed and squeezed her lungs, making it difficult to breathe.  

The sole reason they had to move - to run away - in the first place, was the exact thing that was threatening to unveil right here, right now. 

All this because of her not being able to control herself. The threat of their true identity being revealed again was dangerously real right now.

"I managed to convince the sheriff not to press charges against the school. Convinced him the boys must have seen something else. That you are most certainly not any of the sort they were accusing you to be." 

"Thank you." Val let out a shaky breath. 

"But I cannot let this incident pass without taking any precautions. There is only one option I feel should be executed." 

"Y-you're not gonna expel me, are you? Please, Miss, I–" 

"I've already spoken with your mother about the incident. We both agreed that enrolling you into a therapy program would help you get a better grasp of your emotions. To minimise the chances of this to happen in the future." Weems stood up from her desk, her tall figure moving towards Valerye, still and dumbstruck. 

She put a hand on her shoulder in a surprisingly soft way that made Val look up at her.  

"Valerye, I cannot help you if you do not do anything you can to help yourself first. I promised your mother I will not tell a single soul about what you have going on. But I need you to help me keep that promise." 

*** 

During the week Xavier was hospitalised, Val and the rest of the Nightshades visited him twice. The first time was the very next day after he got admitted. They brought him food from the local restaurant. It turned out he could not eat most of it due to the pain in his jaw, where he received one of the punches. 

They resorted to sharing it, making Xavier eat tiny bites that they pushed into his barely open mouth despite his weak protests. 

One piece almost made him choke when he laughed at Kent and Divina retelling their story about their assignment at the most popular dress shop in town. 

It resulted in them being politely thrown out of the hospital as the nurse then came in and scolded them for making a racket. 

For the entire time, Val fought with her thoughts, as she watched Xavier's bruised and still swollen face contort into the smile she so loved to see on him only to change into a wince as he hissed in pain whenever his face stretched into a grin. A grin that made her pulse quicken, as she caught herself absentmindedly reach towards Xavier's face to brush his hair out of it. 

What in the heavens was going on with her? 

She had to excuse herself to the bathroom. She couldn't lose her composure, not again, not with all those who were important to her. 

Her hands gripped the sink so tight her knuckles turned white as she looked herself in the face in the mirror. Entirely black eyes stared back at her, dark, pitiless and terrifyingly empty.  

"Get a grip, Val. Get a fucking grip." She snarled towards her reflection. She was shocked to feel the piercing hot pain in her mouth, as her gums felt as if they were on fire. 

As if something was just underneath the surface, ready to spring out. 

The faint taste of copper coated her tongue and she gasped, pushing herself away from the sink. The sensation bringing her back to her normal senses. That was it. She could not stay there any longer. She had to get out, she couldn't stay. 

Not in this state, not when the fleeting control she had over her form seemed to slip away from her at the highest speed possible. Not when this thing she felt whenever she was with Xavier happened… whatever it was. 

Not when her family's safety was so close to being threatened again. 

"Fuck this," she whispered, grabbing a sketchbook she bought for Xavier this morning. It was an idea to give the artist some of his normalcy back. Now, her heart thumped in her chest at the mere thought of him smiling at her because of that. 

He was her friend, for fucks sake.

It could wait. She would get out, say her goodbyes from near the door and wait for the rest of them at the foot of the main stairs.

She leftthe bathroom and was met with empty chairs where the rest of the group was sitting just moments before. Xavier's head jerked up towards her with a start.

"Val," he sounded genuinely surprised to see her there but his face immediately lightened up, only for him to wince when pain shot through just jaw. 

"You're still here? I thought you've left before the rest did." 

Val pointed behind her back towards the bathroom with a sheepish smile. 

"Had to use the… wait, why did they leave?" 

"Got kicked out for being too loud, the nurse got pretty pissed. Tried to sweet talk her out of it but I guess my new look does not add to my charisma much." Xavier gestured towards his face with the bandaged arm and let out a dry chuckle. 

"I haven't thanked you yet. For not letting them rearrange the other half as well." 

"Don't mention it." 

"But you didn't have to intervene. Shouldn't, in fact." 

"What do you mean, shouldn't? Was I supposed to sit back and watch them beat you up into a pulp?" Val snapped, moving towards the bed. "Do you even hear yourself?" 

"Yeah, I do." It was his turn to huff now. "You shouldn't have come. You could've gotten hurt. I should've taken them by myself." 

"Xavier," Val sat on the bed and leaned over his legs to get a better look at his face. "There were four of them. Four. Against one."

 Xavier opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to argue but no words came out. 

Val's hand was on his bruised cheek, tracing her fingers delicately over the purple skin. The unexpected touch stupefied him. He watched her grey eyes, full of worry, glide over his bruises and it made him feel even more guilty. 

It wasn't her fault he was like this. 

"I hate them." Her voice low, tethered on the verge of anger. 

He could feel it, just underneath the surface. It caused shivers to run down the back of his neck. 

"I hate them for this." 

"That's how it goes around here. Sheriff and Mayor's sons for you." He thought he caught a glimpse of her eyes darkening but she lowered her gaze before he could take a better look. 

Her hand fell back onto her lap and he frowned at the sudden loss of contact. 

"It's not right." She whispered. 

He just shrugged.  

"Not the first time, deffo not the last too." He knew there was nothing more they could do about it. 

Their fathers would do anything in their power to sweep the case under the rug, as they always did. His own father would do absolutely nothing about this as well. He never took any notice of any of Xavier’s issues, especially the ones that would "taint" his pristine image. 

He felt something press against his stomach. It was a sketchbook, and a new one at that. The one he talked about buying for the past month but somehow never got around to do it. 

"Instead of flowers." Val smiled at him. "Can't risk you sneezing yourself to your grave in this state." 

He snorted, trying hard not to smile. He opened it and on the first page there was a 'get well soon' scribbled in her loopy handwriting. A tiny heart adorned the corner where her name was. 

"Hope it helps you take your mind off of things." 

"Thank you… but I kinda have a bit of a setback." He raised his injured hand. 

"Well, you said you wanted to practise with the other hand. Perfect opportunity if you ask me." 

He felt warmth settle in his chest at her words. He did say that once, in passing, and he didn't expect her to remember it. Val put a set of pencils on his bedside table. 

"I should get going. I think the nurse noticed me and she doesn't look happy." She whispered as she got up from the bed. 

Xavier felt cold where her thigh was pressing against his. Before he could think about how much he wanted her back against his skin, he felt her lips press against his uninjured cheek. 

His brain froze. 

They were warm, soft, and a little dry. She had never kissed him before.

It was short, but it was enough for him to blush furiously. His skin tingled, the outline of her lips now imprinted in his memory. 

He barely registered her saying goodbye and before he knew it, she was gone. 

*** 

Valerye let out a long sigh. The first therapy session was now over. And it went abysmally bad.

Dr Kinbott had the utmost misfortune of being the first therapist Val has ever seen. 

An entire session went by with Dr Kinbott trying and failing to reassure Val that her office was a safe space. That she could talk about everything she needed and wanted to. That she was someone she could trust. It seemed to be working, until the therapist confirmed what she had already expected.

"Principal Weems told me about your situation."

The rest of the words were drowned out by a loud ringing in her ears. It still hasn't subsided, even though Val was already outside. 

She had to finish the session early. And she knew this would reach Weems faster than she would make it back to the Academy.

Nothing about this day made Val feel particularly well. She knew she had to cooperate to stay at the school. Not to disappoint her mother.

Not to risk their safety yet again.

And the need to constantly lie to her friends. To omit the truth, to skirt around their questions. It weighed on her conscience like a heavy, sticky, vile mass, threatening to drown her, to engulf her whole if she slipped on the ever-growing hill of lies.

But talking about it all, re-living this once again - stating what they are and what she did, and had to do out loud - terrified her.

"Valerye?"

She blinked stupidly. The pale, broad shouldered figure of Cameron stood in front of her and she didn't realise she was staring at him for a hot minute, completely lost in her thoughts.

"Oh, uh, hi." Her face flushed in embarrassment. "What are you doing here this early?"

"I've decided to put the wonderful, cloudy, rainy weather to good use." He chuckled. "Went out for a walk. My roommate snores like a diesel truck in the mornings."

"And you? Could ask you the same…" His voice trailed off as he noticed the therapist sign on the side of the door. "Taking care of yourself?"

"Yeah, something like that." Val mumbled.

"I'm glad you do." Cameron's voice sounded so sincere, she couldn't help but smile. "Hey, I haven't eaten anything yet. Care to grab some breakfast with me?"

"Happy to."

***

She had a date. 

A date to the Rave’N. And a date for tomorrow’s evening.

She was officially going out with Cameron Moser.

***

During their second time the Nightshades came to visit him in the hospital, Xavier noticed a slight change.

It wasn’t the fact he now could eat on his own, finally - despite Ajax still trying to force feed him. It also wasn’t the lack of homework that surprised him.

It was Val.

She was unusually quiet. Kept smiling at her phone as she tapped away at it.

When they were about to leave, he called after her.

"Val?"

"Yes?"

She stopped in the doorway. But she didn't make any move towards him. Didn't come over to sit at his side like the last time.

"I, ah… thank you, for the sketchbook. It really did help. I would go insane here otherwise."

She smiled at him in the sweet way she always did, her eyes crinkling.

"Hope you will show me your sketches tomorrow then." When Xavier looked quizzically at her, she continued. "Foreign? We have Foreign on Mondays."

"Oh, yeah, right. I just thought you might…" He gestured to the bedside chair.

"I'm sorry. I have, uh, plans tonight." She blushed and another smile crept upon her face. And it made him a bit uneasy. "So, tomorrow? I'm still waiting for my portrait, tho."

"You can come over to my studio then." Xavier blurted out, throwing caution to the wind. "Tomorrow at seven?"

"Wow. I didn't expect it to work." The wink Val sent him made his chest grow warm. "See you then?"

"Yeah." He smiled but then his grin faltered as she waved at him and went out.

She didn't even come over to kiss him goodbye like the last time. And God, he hoped so much she would.

***

The Foreign Beings and Legends class got cancelled. For the first time in his life, Xavier was disappointed to hear that. 

"Free at last." Ajax stretched, a content sigh falling from his lips. "What are we gonna do with all this freedom? Yo, wanna go for a smoke?"

"Yeah," Divina piped up. "Could use some."

"Later." Xavier replied hastily. He looked around but the green glinting hair was nowhere to be seen. He could swear Val was just there.

"Don't know if there's gonna be any left tho." Ajax laughed. 

Xavier just waved them off.

"Gotta go. I want to catch up with my painting skills."

"Oh god, the turpentine smell is gonna join us again. Bleh." Yoko wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. "And you finally smelled so good at the hospital."

"Like what? Blood eau cologne?" Kent snorted.

Yoko smacked him across the chest.

Xavier laughed and shook his head. He missed them so much. But he had to go clean up the shed.

Val was coming over today.

***

Xavier almost jumped out of his skin at the knock on the shed door. She was here.

He felt as if his heart was about to break his ribs with how hard it was beating.

With one last look at the unusually spotless studio, he went over to open the door.

"Hey there. I'm here for my appointment with mister Thorpe?" Valerye flashed him another one of her smiles and he grinned.

"Hold on, I'm gonna see if he's available. In the meantime," he stepped to the side, letting her in. "Please have a seat."

His chest swelled at the amazed look on her face. She looked around, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

"This is… jaw dropping." She managed to let out after a few moments of walking around, Xavier trailing behind her.

"Yea, I can see that." 

He felt brave today. He reached out and pushed her chin with his finger, causing her to snap her mouth shut and blush. 

He made her blush.

"So." Val stopped in the middle of the shed, near the chair he put there before. "How much for a portrait?"

He wanted to say 'a kiss' so bad.

"We'll see when I finish. I might need a bit of a warm up."

"I hope I'm able to pay for that then." She laughed.

He hoped so too. He thought about asking her to the dance for days now. He had to do this today. No more waiting around.

***

"Do you have a date for the dance?" Val asked him. His heart stuttered.

"No." He stepped away from the easel. He bit his lip, feeling the insecurity seep back in. "But I do want to ask someone out though."

She slipped from the chair and stretched. They were there for almost an hour now. 

He still didn't ask her out.

"Wonder who caught your eye." She mused as she stepped next to him and gasped.

"Xavier…"

"Yes?"

His heart beat painfully against his ribs now. She was so close he could smell her hair.

"Is that supposed to be me?"

He blinked, taken aback.

"Y-yeah. What do you mean? You don't like it?"

"I thought you were painting me, not some… ethereal, beautiful entity."

"That's what I see." He breathed, feeling his palms start to sweat.

She looked back at him, her grey eyes shining under the dim light. He could count her eyelashes.

"So… about the, uh, payment." His voice got caught up in his throat. She was so close to him he was starting to get dizzy. She looked almost exactly like in one of his dreams. "Do you… uh, do you have a date for the Rave'N?"

"Yeah, I do."

He swore his heart broke into pieces. This wasn't supposed to go that way. He was supposed to ask her out now.

"Who?" His tone came out harsh, almost accusatory before he composed himself. He took a step back.

Why in the hell did he feel betrayed? She didn't owe him anything. But still, there was a vile, bile-like feeling rising up to his throat.

"Cameron." She smiled in a way that made the remnants of his heart sink.

He swallowed with difficulty. His throat felt dry. It was tense, just like his chest. Sharp pangs followed his every breath, almost as if slicing his lungs open over and over again. He waited around for too long. And he was too late now.

Is it why he couldn't find her during the breaks today?

"You?" Val's voice rang out again in the shed. "You said you wanted to ask someone, right? Who is it?"

His mind was blank. He had to come up with something, anything. Fast. 

She looked at him, an amused grin on her face.

"I won't tell anyo–"

"Bianca." Xavier blurted out, surprising even himself. This was the first name that came to his mind, after he recalled the last class he had that day. Fuck.

"Ooh," her grey eyes, the ones he kept seeing in his dreams, widened and she grinned up at him. "Oh wow. Aiming high I see."

She gave him a wink that always made his knees weak and this time it was no different.

"Go get her, tiger." 

***

Xavier was feeling like shit. But who could blame him now, as he was forced to watch the girl he liked shamelessly flirt with the guy he now hated with his entire self?

It was as if wherever he looked, whenever he turned, Cameron was there. And Val was with him, or got up from their group to meet him, leaving the conversation they were currently having. 

It made him furious.

"Good thing you're not a Gorgon."

He turned to see Ajax, watching him intently.

"They would be so stoned by now."

Xavier just grumbled, turning back to shoot daggers at the vampire. He watched him glide his hand over Valerye's shoulder, brushing her long hair off of her uniform. 

And then he kissed her on her cheek. She blushed at that and giggled.

If he had snakes on his head, they would surely be hissing and spitting in their direction.

***

His dreams about her were different now. 

Besides the ones where he danced with her and kissed her in the darkened room, he still dreamed about her naked, wrapped around him in a heated, blissful embrace. 

But the overall aura of the lewd ones was new. 

The need he felt, the desperation and longing for her to be close to him consumed him whole every night. He relished in the way she breathed his name over his lips whenever he stopped kissing her for short moments, only to press his mouth again over her flushed skin in a needy manner. His arms were tightly wrapped around her, pulling her closer to him, while he rolled his hips slowly against her core. 

Their bodies, hot and sweaty, were sticking together in the heated embrace, as he pressed her against the sheets, repeatedly burying himself inside her. Her heels dug into his butt, urging him to press himself even deeper and he listened to her pleas every time.

The way her body responded to his, the way she clenched around his cock, the way she fell apart underneath him made him go crazy with need even after he woke up. No amount of ice-cold showers helped in the long run.

It was no longer just solely the sexual tension that clung to him whenever he saw her. It was this overwhelming longing, a need to be close. To feel her hand in his, to have her close to him and hear her laugh, feel her breath on his neck, to run his finger through the glinting hair. 

And it killed him every single time he saw Cameron be in the place he wished to be in.

***

He did ask Bianca to the dance two days before it was taking place. What else he was supposed to do, now that his chances were thwarted by that bloodsucker. 

It didn't escape him however, how happy Bianca looked and how enthusiastic her 'yes' sounded when he stopped her after Botany and hastily asked her to be his date for the Rave'N. She never agreed to anything this quick and it made him a little… curious. 

But now, the hole he was in not that long ago, was nothing compared to the one he willingly jumped in now. He was basically at the bottom of the fucking ocean.

And all of that because of his own doing. Or lack thereof.

A/N: Special thanks to @beggingforxavierthorpe and @fangirlies for keeping up with my continuous pestering for feedback and giving me so many ideas and inspiration whenever I feel stuck. Thank you @misspsychotic for proofreading bits and pieces in your spare time. Can't stress enough how much I love you besties. 💙

[msweebyness]

Some Class of Villainy Headcanons

It’s about time I made some HC’s for these guys! I’ve had ideas for a while and I might as well share! As always, @imsparky2002 and @artzychic27!

Boogies breathing in fumigation gas or any kind of bug spray is equivalent to them doing crack cocaine.

(After the school had to be sprayed for roaches)

Mylensula: IVAN, YOU GET DOWN FROM THERE THIS INSTANT!

Ivan Oogie: (Standing on the railing on a third floor balcony) IM’MA PLANE!

Ivan Oogie and Kimton are in constant competition for the title of the most macho ‘tough guy’ among the villains. 1/3 of their interactions end in some kind of physical altercation.

Mireides can mentally manipulate their flames to form different hairstyles.

Reshma Hook has five different hooks, each made of a different precious metal. Gold, silver, bronze, platinum, and rose gold. She’s just that extra.

Mylensula has an inexplicable obsession with the song ‘Baby Shark’. She can listen to it on loop for hours.

MimRore can speak in reverse and often does this to confuse and aggravate the other villains.

Jeanatoa gifts Sheriff Austin jewelry with his name or initials engraved in it. They want everyone to know that’s HIS wolfy.

Honest Nino occasionally screams when he’s particularly excited to see YzAlya. She thinks it’s adorable.

Doctor Cabello is very protective of their top hat collection. Taking one is treated as an open declaration of war.

Kimton actually likes watching My Little Pony. He would die if anyone found this out.

Juleficent, Lacey Gothel and King Marc have dramatic cloak-sweeping contests.

Nath of Hearts has named every one of his daggers and treats them like his children.

ZoeHans is the only one allowed to touch Cosetteweather’s wool.

Like the monsters and heroes, the villains do feelings circles, though theirs get considerably louder and more violent.

Maxdrome likes to go on superhero fan forums solely for the purpose of being a trolling shithead.

The villain girls often take LeOnDine out for ‘Girls Days’ to help her unwind from Kimton being a jackass.

The villains only trust King Marc to do their makeup for them.

Mylensula, King Marc and Nath of Hearts are secretly planning Prince Kiran and Sasha Oogie’s wedding.

The villain couples break every PDA rule in the school, and the teachers can’t do anything to stop them.

Miss Bustier: Alright, kids, let’s continue our lesson….*Sighs* Nathaniel, Marc, please focus on the board.

(A dagger embeds itself in the board behind her head, before Nath of Hearts continues kissing his boyfriend)

Miss Bustier: (Squeaks) My-Mylene, could you p-please return t-to your o-own assigned seat?

(The sea witch lashes a tentacle inches from her teacher’s face, before she snuggles back into her buggyboo, who is kissing her neck as she sits in his lap.)

Miss Bustier: R-Rose….J-Juleka…

(She’s silenced by a demonic glare from the horned sorceress as she continues cuddling her candy queen)

Miss Bustier: S-so, we were talking about the history of poetry…

Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[tomorrowusa]

Yet another racially motivated mass shooting was perpetrated by a shithead with an AR-15. This one occurred in Jacksonville – the largest city in Florida.

There will undoubtedly be a formal Thoughts and Prayers Declaration from the GOP-NRA even as they plot to make it even easier for the unhinged to conduct future orgies of violence.

Three people were killed Saturday in a racially motivated attack after a gunman targeted Black people at a Dollar General store in Jacksonville, Florida, in one of several weekend shootings that again shocked Americans in public places – from stores to football games to parades. “This shooting was racially motivated and he hated Black people,” Jacksonville Sheriff T.K. Waters said at a news conference early Saturday evening. Waters said the shooter, who he described as a White man in his 20s, shot and killed himself after the attack. The suspect left behind what the sheriff described as three manifestos outlining his “disgusting ideology of hate” and his motive in the attack. All three victims, two men and one woman, were Black. Waters said the shooter lived in Clay County, Florida, south of Jacksonville, with his parents. Jacksonville is located in northeast Florida, about 35 miles south of the Georgia border. Waters said the shooter told his father by text to “check his computer.” The father found documents described by Waters as manifestos and called authorities.

At least the Nazi attacker is dead.

Waters showed photos of the weapons during a news conference, which showed swastikas were drawn on one of the guns with white paint. “We have opened a federal civil rights investigation, and we will pursue this incident as a hate crime,” said Sherri Onks, special agent in charge of the FBI’s Jacksonville office.

This is coverage from the CBS station in Jacksonville.

[crazy56u]

Well, my stomach feels like crap, and a lot of things could be going better all over.

At least Ben gets to punch a Nazi this week.

Last time on Quantum Leap: Ian's shitty microchip is causing problems, Addison flushed her wedding ring, and Ben convinced a waitress to go into computer science.

And Ben gets to see that guy die again.

"GODDAMNIT LAWRENCE, 'PATHFINDER' ISN'T HELPFUL LAST WORDS!"

And Rock Paper Scissors time is interrupted by the computers breaking again.

"Do I have your attention?" If it turns out this is actually Janis hacking the Project again from Hawaii, and that's the real extent of the chip subplot...

"Look, Ian, I don't know why you're surprised that I'm the bad guy..."

Meanwhile, back in 1955, the cops are still not helpful.

"Hmmm... random guy finding a dying guy... ... ...you a Commie?"

"I'm gonna ask you to not leave town. Luckily, this episode is set entirely in this town."

Princeton 1955 is the most exciting place in the scientific community, right next to the place where the guy who discovered the BLJ in Mario 64 lives.

I honest to God hope they have Einstein cameo in this.

"Hey, we're three guys in suits and hats. Here's the waitress from the alien episode. And yes, that does mean a one-minute commercial break."

Hannah isn't a leaper, she just has an amazing skin care routine.

"Maybe the accelerator decided you needed a friend." Jenn, not for nothing, but that was unintentionally sad due to how you phrased that...

Oh shit, they invented the machine from Sliders.

Okay, so, knowing real world history, the Nazis are 100% gonna smash that thing.

"Look, I'm just a bald white guy talking to the guy from Quantum Leap, you don't need to be here, 1940s Waitress."

Oh, damnit, Einstein's already dead...

"You kept Einstein waiting, and he died. How does that make you feel, shithead?"

Hmmmmmm... I wonder if there is a connection between the evil spies circling the 1955 Project, and the subplot going on at the 2026 Project, that is a toughie...

Hannah just solved the formula for Red Bull.

MORAL OF THE STORY: The scientific community is misogynistic as fuck, even in the 1950s.

"Apparently, you're from New Mexico?" "Yeah, I had to move after this guy helped the sheriff bust a government coverup involving aliens and car crashes."

"Look, Hannah, I need you to stay in the episode, Einstein did secret science shit, I need your help."

"Have we met before, you remind me of Raymond Lee..."

The scientific method: Break into a dead guy's house.

"Magic picked a hell of a day to have a day off, it's almost like he's dealing with alcoholism or something..."

You went to Princeton in 2005, oh dear God, I am so sorry...

And we see that the guy Ben leapt into looks like a car salesman.

"Did you just refer to Einstein as 'Al'?" "Yeah, that means I'm cooler than you."

And Ben looks like he crapped himself.

"Okay, we're at the library that looks like Church."

"Look, Ben, if you decided to quit everytime Ziggy tells us there was a murder coverup in the original history, we wouldn't have a show."

I legitimately would not be surprised if it turns out people were lying and Hannah is actually a secret leaper.

"Is everything okay?" "Yep, totally fine, totally not gonna rip Ian's head off, what's a data breach?"

"Look, Ian, either you tell security what's going on, or I will be pissed."

At this point, just start throwing the books, maybe you'll get somewhere.

"Tell them to check the second floor. There, I did my job, I have a point in the show-" "Uh, I ain't going back into the Imaging Chamber, Ben fired me."

And Ben meets his replacement.

"Hi, Ben, I'm Tommy!" "(barely constrained look of resentment)"

"Look, I know Addison left you for me, but I went here in 2005, I know what I'm talking about."

"Wait, was it this wall, how do secret passages work again?" "Dude, what the fuck?!" "In my defense, I drank a lot!"

Oh, shit, I have that clock in my living room.

"Okay, if I were Albert Einstein... (fucks with the clock)"

And she has a Zippo, I'm starting to piece together how she died in that building fire...

Oh shit, a guy's doing jazz hands.

"Look, I don't care if you have a knife, you ain't getting in here!" "OH YEAH?! (shoves open door; causes a fire)"

[We are already lagging...]

[How many people are aware that M&Ms did a sequel to that ad a few years ago?]

Ben, you had a cane, why didn't you immediately clock him in the head?

"There, we got the journal, and we decided to not leave they guy behind to die in the fire for some reason, we are doing alright." "Ben, he killed Lawrence." "Okay, back into the fire he goes."

And there's the Nazis.

"Operation Paperclip": AKA, "The Governement wanted to make NASA, but didn't have enough scientists."

I don't know why, but the orange glow, plus the Kate conversation, makes Tommy look like he aged 30 years, I have to imagine that was deliberate.

"Oh, it's incredible, Einstein's journal fucking rules…"

So, what's the over/under on that journal getting burned?

"I studied Greek, it looks like Einstein was having a stroke…"

"If this works, it'll change the world." So, what's the over/under on that journal getting burned?

"Ben, that code will fucking break the world, it makes bombs." So, what's the over-

"Look, I don't care if you're Raymond Lee, but this is important science, I'm taking it with me-" "OKAY, FUCK IT, I'M BLOWING MY COVER, WE MET IN 1947!"

Okay, I meant that as a joke, I didn't expect Ben to actually do that, hot damn…

"Ben, stop breaking the rules!" "Fuck outta here, bitch boy!"

"I fucked up an Einstein quote, that's how you know I'm Raymond Lee!"

"Look, are you familiar with a guy named Samuel Beckett?"

"The most romantic bit of physics". Meanwhile, Addison flushed her ring.

"How long are you here for?" "My guess, I'm gone the second we burn that journal."

Uh oh, misogyny.

"Okay, I gotta dip, keep this." "Okay, cool. Zippo time!"

"Rachel, our secret shit fucked up the Project, I'm about to have a panic attack."

"What do you need?" "I need a data patch?" "That will cost me my job." "Again, panic attack-" "Ian, I was gonna say yes regardless."

"Hey, you wanna be a Nazi scientist? Let's take a trip to Glasgow! (slashes face)"

Oh, shit, the bald guy was the bad guy?!

"Ben, I need you to punch that bald guy, he's a Nazi."

"…um, I can't reproduce shit?" "… … …so, you know I'm a Nazi, eh?!"

[Annnd TEXT LIMIT!]

[h3rmitsunited]

A Blanket Bed in the Corner

Summary: A short one-shot of what happened between Dirk and Todd when they went back to Hobbs house between Panto and the House Within a House. If you like a little bit of angsty, touch-starved, slightly traumatized yearning, then you’ll like this probably.

Read on Ao3. Words: 2108

I got to thinking about @clockworkcheetah ‘s post about Todd not being super touchy with Dirk in S2, and this sort of just spat out of my brain, so *throws this out on the floor* here.

.

.

They get to Hobbs’ small house late that night. He gives his cat a few scratches, throws a pile of blankets and pillows at the two of them and then wanders off to bed, looking worn out.

Understandable. Getting involved with Dirk’s… stuff does that to you.

So, it’s quiet now.

Todd felt strange leaving Farah behind at the sheriff's station. They’d spent two months straight not being further apart than one of them in a shitty motel bathroom while Farah walks down the hall to grab a vending machine dinner, apart from the last couple days when Todd ran off after a rabbit, or Farah talked to her brother at the boat, or today when she went with Farah and found the weird pink-haired dude that’s locked up at the station now.

He feels her absence like the loss of a limb, having become so innately accustomed to her, the mere presence of her existence a glue on his disintegrating life. It writhes like crawling bugs under his skin, an aching panic that settles into his bones telling him that there is something wrong.

It’s whispering, screaming, clawing at him like, ‘she’s gone, you idiot, Farah's not here and she has to be here and, of course, she's been taken too, and now you're alone, and you're never going to find Dirk or Amanda or anyone, and you're going to die alone, choking on your own lungs because there's nobody here to shove the pills down your throat and, shit, this is what Amanda felt all the time, and fuck, I'm the worst person in the whole world, she deserves to hate me forever-‘

Except Farah is okay. He’d watched her wave him off with a tired smile, an understanding in her eyes, and a not-so-joking joke about how she needed a little girl time.

And Dirk is here.

Dirk is here.

He's here.

Todd looks over at him, biting the insides of his cheeks. He looks exhausted and freaked the hell out, which, once again, understandable, considering he got ‘thrown through a doghouse by a zombie, Todd’, plus almost getting shot with a shot gun and then, the sudden presence of Panto Trost, sword carrying crazy person from Wen-da-fuck-does-this-get-normal; all of this casually adding up to a bunch of shit that Dirk really doesn’t need to deal with barely a day after getting out of Blackwing.

And they hadn’t even talked about that. They… well, they sort of have, but not really. Not in any way that matters, but he doesn’t even know if Dirk would want to talk about it. Todd certainly wouldn’t, but Todd’s also coming off the tail end of about a decade of severe emotional repression and self-hatred that’s left him feeling like he doesn’t deserve to have someone listen to any of his crap because he’s just a worthless shithead who shouldn’t have friends. He’s working on that, though, but habits die hard.

He wants to be there for Dirk though. He said he was his friend, back two months ago before everything went to shit. He hopes that all this didn't change Dirk wanting that from him, unless Blackwing, like, zapped his brain to make him not want to have friends. Dirk barely told him much about what that place was like as a child, but from what he’d said, he wouldn’t put isolation-inducing brain zaps past them.

But maybe this is too much. Maybe Dirk thinks that the fact that Todd and Farah spent two months looking for him was kind of creepy and pathetic and Todd is just way too clingy and needy to keep around and he’s just finding the right way to say fuck off without sounding like too much of an asshole.

Todd realizes vaguely that he could also just be thinking all this because it’s like 2am and he’s exhausted and his body is adjusting to taking cat drugs that make his brain feel a little weird and Dirk being here, and alive, and here, is fucking with his head... like a lot.

He becomes aware that he's been sitting on Hobbs' couch for like fifteen minutes, just staring at the wall, still fully dressed. He's surprised Dirk hadn't said anything, or maybe he had, and Todd wasn't paying attention.

Todd glances over and now, Dirk is lying flat on the pile of blankets and pillows that Hobbs had dragged out. He's on his back, eyes open, looking blankly up at the ceiling. The look on his face, Todd’s not sure what he’d call it, but it’s…

Well, it's a bit concerning.

He’s not going to read into what prompts him to do it, but he's walking across the room before he can register the action in his brain. He sees Dirk's eyes flick towards him, but he doesn't move, only parts his lips slightly to release a heavy breath before darting his eyes back up to the ceiling.

Todd waves a hand at him, leaning over the make-shift bed. Dirk rolls his eyes, landing them back on Todd and frowns, confused.

"Scoot over."

Dirk's look of confusion deepens, and he opens his mouth, hesitating quietly for a moment before snapping it closed again. He presses his lips into a tight line and then moves to the side, watching Todd carefully now.

There’s not really enough room for both of them, not enough room for two normal man friends to lay down normally next to each other. But… well, fuck it. Todd draws in a breath and flops onto the blankets, half of his side hanging off the edge onto the worn carpet, carefully keeping just enough space between their arms so that they aren't touching, but close enough that he can feel the echoes of warmth coming off Dirk's body.

He liked doing this with Farah too. He hopes that she didn’t mind it too much. On the run, it was only the two of them together for two months, neither of them big on touching, especially since Todd got pararibulitis, so they didn’t do more than just lay next to each other (other than that night they got drunk at that restaurant and sloppily made out in the back alley, deliberately not talking about it the next day). Just knowing that she was there, that she was in the same shitty boat that he was, tired and scared and unsure of what was going to smack them in the faces next, not knowing if they’d ever find Dirk or Amanda or any semblance of peace again; it helped.

It made him feel real. Alive. Physically present in the world.

He wonders if Dirk had anything like that, if there was anything he could cling to during his long nights wherever he had been to make him feel like a person again. He doesn't think so, but he’s not really sure he wants the confirmation.

Dirk breathes in sharply through his nose. It's dark, apart from the dim light over the oven in the kitchen. It’s glowing a soft yellow through the narrow archway behind them, trailing over the top of Dirk’s face.

He’d never seen him like this before. Never laid on a bed and looked at him, studied the angle of his nose, the hard line of his jaw, the way his throat worked as he swallowed, the flutter of his eyelashes, the soft parting of his lips.

The urge to touch him surges through his body like a pararibulitis attack. Consuming and electric. Todd bites the insides of his cheeks to try to hold his composure. He’s not sure if he succeeds.

Dirk's lip quivers.

There's a tense, heavy silence that blankets over them, like the world tilting for a second as air is pulled into Dirk’s lungs. He's staring up at the ceiling like it could have the answers to a question Todd knows that he doesn't even know.

"I missed you," Dirk breathes out shakily. It's quiet, barely audible, but in Todd's ears, it's an explosion. It shatters something in his chest, and he doesn't think he'll ever be able to piece it back together again, and, god, he doesn't fucking care.

Todd shifts his arm, just the tiniest bit closer. He can feel the tickle of their arm hairs brushing together, sending bolts of lightning over his nerves, but not, like, bad ones. They're good. They're so good.

Todd wonders if Dirk can feel him staring at him. He doesn't mean to, knows that it's a little weird, a bit creepy, but Dirk is here, he’s here, and Todd is so fucking scared of blinking and finding that spot on the blankets suddenly empty. To find out that Dirk had never even been here in the first place. That finding him had been a dream or a hallucination or something else that would break his heart if it wasn’t just this.

"I missed you, too," Todd whispers back. Dirk flinches like he'd forgotten Todd was even there, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard.

The distance between them feels too far, like a wide, endless canyon, impassable and dangerous.

Dirk turns his head slowly, meeting Todd's eyes. His are bright. The soft light from the kitchen makes them shine like stars, and his hair is wild, errant strands sticking out in all different directions. Dirk had been running his hands through it anxiously since Panto showed up, too much restless energy to stay contained. A dark strand hangs loosely over his forehead.

He could reach out, brush it back into place and let his finger stay pressed lightly against Dirk’s skin, trailing it down the side of Dirk's face, smoothing those rough, worried edges. It feels like too much, too soon, too close.

Dirk’s lips turn down, eyes still carefully studying Todd. It seems like he feels the same way, like his connection to the whatever is tattling on Todd’s thoughts, that roiling tension in Todd's body that is screaming at him to get closer, and his eyes flick back to the couch, his expression closing off. He licks his lips and frowns.

"You should get some sleep. I can't imagine having to be on the run from the FBI has been very restful." He speaks softly. Kind and quiet, but Todd can hear the tone of dismissal in the words.

Todd doesn't want Dirk to pull away, not now. Not when he just got him back. He moves to shift forward, but he feels the light press of fingertips against his forearm. Dirk's eyes are piercing into him, sad and tired.

"Todd," he whispers, his voice crackling like he’s moments away from breaking into tears. His eyes dart to the couch again, panicked. "Please."

Dirk presses his lips into a line and looks back at Todd, his expression pleading with him to understand, like he doesn’t know what he needs himself, like he needs Todd to know for him.

Todd’s not good at this though.

He wants so badly to just push forward, to show Dirk that he’s here for him, that he wants to be here for him. Wants to drag him into a hug and touch him and know that this is real, that Dirk is real. And here. And alive.

But he can see in Dirk’s expression that he’s not ready for that. And as much as Todd wants to push, wants to touch, and hold, and never fucking let go… he doesn’t.

It hurts, aching like a bruise, but Todd swallows it down and nods.

Because it's fine. He's fine, and this is fine, and he’s here for Dirk, whatever he needs, because they’re friends and he wants his friend to feel okay. To feel safe.

Todd briefly nudges Dirk’s arm with his own, catching his eyes and giving Dirk a soft smile.

"Good night, Dirk."

Dirk hesitates before returning Todd’s smile with a sad apologetic one of his own. His fingers brush over the back of Todd’s wrist before dropping back onto the blanket.

Todd pushes himself up, the chill of being separated from Dirk creeping into his skin. He drags one of the blankets he’d been lying on up from the ground, tugging it until Dirk shifts and it comes free and then tosses it carefully out across Dirk’s body, turning quickly back to the couch to lay down. It’s enough, he thinks, that he can see Dirk from here. Can see Dirk watching him still, pulling the blanket around his chest tighter, curling onto his side, still facing Todd on the couch.

Todd sighs, letting his eyes close.

"Good night, Todd."

In the morning, the blanket bed is empty.

[the-firebird69]

A lot of changes taking place in Charlotte county today and they're pretty big it was me they're very important.

-they are going after the bears of both towns people with them and are government workers for them in the role as mayor. The cutting them down taking their people out going after assets and threats to get rid of them these people are jokes they don't live a life and their bums and it's disgusting didn't do anything to work at all I'm actually tired of doing all the work plus their jobs so they're firing them and they're pursuing them and also taking them to court and jail in prison

-we have several group lawsuits running here I think four and one went to Superior Court and then say the court date is today and they have to be up there at 11:00 a.m. if not warrants get issued and they're supposed to pay and if they don't pay people get arrested until they do. Those four group lawsuits and there's two for Trump and two for Tommy f. They're going forward today and there's three or 400 people on each group lawsuit and they're prominent figures in Florida and the world actually and the sick of these guys and tell them to get out and they won't and my husband will say it and they don't even pay attention to him. And there's enough people on these lawsuits and it's different people in each group lawsuit to beat up this town of idiot higher ups you mean the downtown area but they have armies and they're bringing them in and they're getting rid of these shitheads. There's a huge number of people hearing Trump he says he worked on it with garth and it works Trump is completely pissed off. And a lot of people have killing them already just wait it comes up with this stuff. So there's a bunch of people that are going after them to fire them

-you selectmen from both towns are being fired. Each one of them has a list of crimes against the max and the calling them on it and firing them as they do it's a huge day and they're probably trying to fire half across both towns

-most positions in the county government are held by the higher-ups of the warlock here and the Mac version at that and they are under scrutiny by the max and they're removing some already they removed for 500 to make it 2800 so today they're thinking of firing some more it had an impact

-they're also going after the sheriff and trying to get another hundred out cuz they got $100 out and replace that hundred with minority more lock and they want 100 out more and to do the same that would make a big difference and to do it with the police department now they're putting 10 in pretty soon to put 10 more cuz they pulled 20 out and the neighborhood too in front from 160 and inside of 125 and they're saying 1:30 or 1:40 but now reality the ones that I'm discounting are heading towards the rear side and it's time and there's no attack going on attacking and moments it'll be 125 that's very low. Out of there are 300 175 will be gone and the houses are still there and minority Bullock are tempting to get there and there's a bunch of them and some of them have power and they want to take the neighborhood too and not live like complete s*** and several of them have tried to move in a bunch of times every day and several of them are trying to put new houses in and a few of them I've got together and plan to put in prefab where there are lots and thought it might be easier it is going on now this is going to be a ton of this going on here and $125 households is all that's left and a third of them are crying mutiny.

-if you want things are happening but this is becoming bigger and bigger and it's moving faster and faster the empire is growing and increasing their shield they have it over 3/4 of Florida. And there's more to it they are taking land aggressively and they're going down below and establishing some headquarters they're not very big but it's really to monitor but they're doing it and we're surprised but that's what they're doing there also put the shield all over the planet and they're trying to shield the upper Midwest but they're not getting back there and it's a lot of area they would want to but they can't but there are being aggressive in some places like the Middle East and they have half of it covered and they're moving over what they take from stand to that location and to others like Korea and it's happening believe it or not and Pakistan and they're building like madness by the way and they're getting ready to face Tommy F and forgs are too.

-there's a few other things happening these people are discovering that there are other ships launching and trying to figure out who I can't seem to do it and sending people to check and those are the areas we were describing and they're checking on smaller launches one mile to 20 mile is what they're hearing about and I can't seem to get to a lot of it that's what they're doing and they're going to some suspected ship sites but not many and it's not very aggressive there's a few other programs going on at all but here in Charlotte county that's a lot more changes coming out

-the morlock are being fired from tons of private jobs it's probably 20% left but they're firing the Macklemore lock who are really 10% but that's a lot of people there's a lot of jobs and they plan to get rid of them within the next couple of days and 5% a day and a pretty good size companies and they are some essential companies pipeline companies and a lot of stuff is brought here by pipeline and there are several of those and has 10 million people each that's 30 million people and all of those people are warlock they're about half the population of workforce for those companies here. And there are a few more companies that are big Delta and you mean the tool company and now let's see airline and they're not the same company and it is the airline. They're huge it used to be the only one in North Carolina practically and they have flights everywhere and they don't want them there anymore and here in Florida they're laying them off today and it's probably 40 million people. Some of these companies are hiring minority morlock not all that some do and they usually make decent workers they didn't screw around while they're at work and make jokes instead of doing these assholes do. And there's a couple more companies when does Tropicana when is Tropicana and they're firing half of the Macklemore lock And there are a couple other Sunny delight as far in half of the Macklemore lock Krogers distribution of food is hiring 3/4 of the Macklemore lock and maybe all of them is what they say Publix Winn-Dixie a couple other grocery lines stater Brothers I'm firing three quarters of the mcmullock and Walmart is firing half the Mac morlock all in Florida and that's significant half of the American warlock because they're the ones who make up the work for us but the others are moving in and so far they already fired like 20% of the Macklemore so their presence is getting weak and they're going to feel it today and that's a few billion people and they're all going to be marching around and getting arrested so everybody should be on alert

-the government sector we were talking about but truthfully they're trying to bring that number down to 2200 higher ups in Charlotte county and the government itself if Shawn county they want to remove roughly 10% of the total is Max warlock they're working on it and today they're shooting for 2%. It's a lot of workers that's like 20,000 people right here in the county

-another thing they're doing is pulling people's cards they're going to be doing that today you're seeing screwing around here with my husband or with Max they start pulling a card

-in the news Trump is not doing good he has court cases three of them two of them are going off this month one of them is severe criminal behavior he's beginning trial on. And he is going to be in a lot of trouble they're talking about stripping him of all sorts of things or businesses and more and sanctioning him and even kicking him out of the country someone was saying that we should bring him up on charges for the missile strike and it was a Democrat no it's a Republican I said right now nobody attacks us and sits there smirking and making fun of us. So they're contemplating that in the meantime they're assassinating his character and him occasionally on purpose and for real and he's going down and he's taking his with him

-there's more and it's pretty big the sick of these people they're hostile attitude they don't want him driving trucks or having businesses or or running businesses with anything in them and gasoline stations and things like that propane or priority they getting kicked out today of anything that is flammable and chemical and it's going on right now soon it will be everything that is dangerous they'll be out of

-they're moving on taking them out of every business there is but one of the first things they want them out of is heavy highway construction there are nuisance you keep putting barriers up wrong they're working to do that now and it's going to set a precedent for everything.

-assembly industries that they're not wanted in at all anymore and they're trying to get them out of there pretty good hospitals ambulance fire department police military and anything to do with the military or police and they are going at it today to try to put them out of these businesses and industries in Charlotte county all of Florida actually they don't want them here and telling them get out of your under arrest and a lot of them get arrested I think there's bologna and I get taken to Central Florida for processing and internment at the prison. There's a lot going on couple more things

-they're being arrested for harassing my husband in any way the two supposed Asian girls got arrested and they are not Asian and they're answering the bank and obstructing his path on purpose and upsetting him like little kids and the arrested them. They're out in 2 hours but the time is to get it stretched out used to be a lot less. It's going on now and they're taking a severe beating and people are wondering why they did that at that place and they're taking more of a severe beating

-this hours left of the day and already in the first few hours doing something the hell out of everyone trying to push people around and they're getting beat up and taken down that's what happens every day to these trumpsters

-you can't take from us Trump and sitting there trying to take his teething stuff so we're beating you to death and you're going to lose everything over like $200 worth of stuff you're a freak and a loser

-half the world's population is changing no it's a giant change in the paradigm and their percentage of the population is dropping to about 8% right now pretty soon it'll be less and they're going to be really ridiculed and harrassed just like they were doing to lots of people. It's me behavior that's unnecessary uncalled for and it's going back on you now everyone's doing it and you can't handle it and you get beat up and terminated pretty soon that's going to be a causation of your Extinction Mac morlock you should be proud of being very dumb I'm going to publish for this one more

My husband is sitting here in the Quagmire of dumb a****** I'm trying to work on it instead of these people being reasonable they're getting more unreasonable nasty and ridiculous with their treatment and comments it's a sign so we have to come in here and try to establish I'm putting forward that we're going to compete over being here in some of these households

Hera

We're accepting your proposal and we're going to review it and forward it to Olympus

Thor Freya

I appreciate it and he does greatly

Hera

We have heard this before and we turned it around approved we do understand times are different and the circumstances are and we will review it but more so for more houses

Olympus

Good

Hera

All assemble for a meeting regarding July 1st and we're going to get it going early and we have a bunch of issues that came out

Thor Freya

He wants us to get some more teams together to focus on the cruise will be nearby Morrison possibly fetus versus other cruise and we agree that it's a good thing to do Frank Castle Hardcastle did you can Blockbuster and he means Mars and Venus

[itstimetowatch]

Silence of the Lamb

A serial killer case? Sounds fun!

And Veronica is going into business for herself at school digging up dirt on parents of her classmates. I’m sure that won’t lead to unforeseen problems.

Madison’s birthday. This is going to tie into the last point, isn’t it? They spend enormous amounts of money on her for her birthday because of something awful.

Sheriff Shithead returns, as predicted, and he’s even lowered himself to showing up at Mars Investigations. Things must be very rough for him. I’m going to guess from his general shitheadedness that he’s a terrible investigator and he needs Keith’s help with the serial killer. Okay, more of an “All Hands on Deck” kinda deal. Makes sense.

I just realized that Miss Dent has disappeared from the opening credits. Guess she’s off to Mandyville, huh?

The new deputy is Schmidt from New Girl. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see him as anyone other than Schmidt… ever.

Mac’s back! Awesome! It’s good when Veronica makes friends that don’t disappear into the ether… despite the fact that they presumably still go to the same school and would theoretically see each other rather often… but whatever, I digress. She wants to be Veronica’s tech support, just as I predicted.

Holy Shit! Mac was switched at birth?

Oh my God! It was with Madison! Oh my God! That’s why her birthday was pointed out!

Okay, fair’s fair. Sheriff Shithead going for that pretentious rock god-wannabe was pretty damn good. Points to you, Shithead.

Crap! Mac’s family is all super blonde!

Called it!

Can you imagine Madison growing up middle class? HA! (Yeah, I mean, obviously she probably wouldn’t be the Madison we all know and mostly can’t stand without a lifetime of wealth and privilege, but still, can you imagine?)

I get that Leo is supposed to be sweet and charming and whatever, but that smile is 100% Schmidt.

And The Worm is Aaron Paul from Breaking Bad.

So much for your points, Sheriff Shithead, you really are a terrible fucking cop, bro.

So, like, Madison is supposed to be this horrible bitch and all… but, like, they are crashing her party, Mac even specifically said the word and everything. She has every right to not want them there. Furthermore, the library is off-limits to the party, so even further she has every right to tell them to leave. Madison’s not under any obligation to be a gracious host to people who weren’t invited. And I’m sure that the “You don’t belong here” line was meant more in the classist meaning rather than just the regular trespassing meaning, but just because she’s a horrible bitch doesn’t make her wrong.

Has Inga also disappeared from the face of Neptune?

Nope, he’s still Schmidt. Sorry, Leo. Also, he’s flirting with a minor, so I’m not wild about him anyway.

“A cop that rocks? What will they think of next?” (That joke is almost certainly too old for Tumblr.)

“I say we play to our strengths?” “So I’m good cop?”

Hey Sheriff Shithead! Just because someone is confessing to a crime doesn’t mean they actually did it. Everything Keith just said is right on the fucking money, dickwad! 

Never mind, he wasn’t confessing.

Oh, Mac! You may need to revise your definition of the phrase “something stupid”.

Okay, now Madison is being a huge douche.

I have never related to Keith as much as I do right now.

The would-be Rock God is the killer. I’m not sure if I should have guessed that or not. I don’t guess there was a lot to go on, and I guess he wouldn’t have gone free so long if figuring him out was easy.

Deputy Leo to the rescue. I still don’t like the fact that you’re flirting with a minor… especially seeing as you are, y’know, a law enforcement officer and definitely know better!

Good work in the details regarding the descrambled tip. Stripping out the encoding is possible (although it almost certainly would have taken more than the day or two that it’s been since Veronica sent the file, but I understand the necessities of episodic storytelling), but that still wouldn’t automatically have given the right tone of voice and pitch. Good work, writers!

You know if I was Mrs. Sinclair, mother of Madison, I’d probably be pretty interested in what my biological daughter was like, too. Do they follow up on this? Gauging by that ending with Mac and her family, I’m guessing she’s probably done with it... but, y’know, that’s definitely the sort of thing that people can change their minds about later.

So Clarence Wiedman called in the anonymous tip on Abel Koontz, which is obviously supposed to point the guilty finger at Jake, but, of course, storytelling convention says that the good guys can’t have the mystery correctly figured out at the beginning of the story or else the story is procedural not a mystery. This is very definitely not a procedural show, so logically, it can’t be Jake Kane. But what if it was Celeste Kane? We know Clarence Wiedman took the threatening photos of Veronica at her behest, rather than Jake’s. Celeste and Lilly had a fairly contentious relationship. She would almost certainly be horrified if she found out that Lilly was sleeping with Weevil... worse still if Lilly actually had feelings for Weevil (which has not, thus far, been established one way or the other.)

I don’t know if it’s true but that certainly seems like a solid theory to me.

 Anyway, another really good episode. Tons of character development for Veronica, Mac, and Keith. It will be interesting to see (if Deputy Leo returns, which is far from a certainty, he could well be a one-and-done character) how Veronica deals with her using someone hurts them now that she actually likes the guy. Hopefully, he comes back because I would actually like to see that play out. 

He’s still Schmidt, though.

[capricornsicle]

[cautelous]

conman era jules is such a shithead but he’s also literally 19 and passing himself off as someone in his mid 20s most of the time so like, how else is he gonna be