#show compliant

[sp0o0kylights]

Bullshit.

The word rings obnoxiously in Steve’s ears as he pushes his way out back, not wanting to be anymore of a talking piece at this party than he already was.

He’d just wanted Nancy to stop drinking, take a second, pace herself…

Steve swipes furiously at his eyes, and then curses when it nearly causes him to run into Chrissy Cunnginham, who’s perched in a chair tucked away from the patio door.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes, trying not to sound like he’s upset, trying to keep his cool--only for her to look up and away, brushing off her own tears.

“Oh.” Steve says, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “You too huh?”

Thankfully she correctly interprets that he's not laughing at her, and adds her own giggle to the mix, the sound gentle even if pitched in upset.

"Boy problems?" Steve asks her, sinking down to the vacant chair on Chrissy's right.

She nods, clasping her hands together in her lap.

"Girl problems?" She asks back, and he grimaces a smile.

They sit for a minute, Steve pulling out a cigarette and offering it to her before lighting up. Chrissy shakes her head, and though her nose curls a little at the smoke she doesn’t say anything.

Neither of them do, staring at the few people bringing the party outside in the way only drunk teenagers can.

"Can I tell you something?" Chrissy says finally, as Steve continues to struggle to keep himself breathing evenly (and not spiraling. He still has to go back and try and escort Nancy home, and he needs to keep his temper when he does it.)

She licks her lips. "I keep trying to break up with Jason, but he won't let me."

It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do he leans himself towards chrissy in concern. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”

“He’s not--it’s not…”She trails off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He talks me out of it is all.”

She’s downplaying it, and Steve’s concern grows tenfold. “Does he argue with you or just…tells you no or something?”

"It's complicated." Chrissy says, refusing to look at him. "He has this vision for me, for us."

Steve watches as she worries at a hangnail.

Feels the need to reach out and take her hand, but keeps his own hands to himself.

If Steve has learned anything, it's that not everyone wants to be touched as much as he does.

"He keeps telling me I'm just being anxious. That I should trust him, and I do, he just expects me to always do what he says? And more and more lately I--"

She huddles down into the little cat costume she's wearing, pulling the thin black sweater around her. "I want different things than he does."

Steve wonders vaguely if Nancy wants different things.

Or a different person entirely.

"That's not fair to you." Steve says, leaning forward and lowering his own voice. "He can't keep you in a relationship you don't want to be in."

A hard thing for him to say, after the bathroom conversation but this is different.

‘Please, let this be different.’ He thinks, before pushing the thought aside.

"He can't force you to do what he wants just because he wants it, or thinks its best. He should be listening to you and what you want too. Relationships are about…compromise right?” It’s what he’s heard anyway, though most of the time “compromise” means “letting the other person get what they want.”

Which is what he thought he’d been doing for Nancy all this time.

“I can help you if you want. Be your," Steve poorly mimes waving a pom pom. "cheer support."

Chrissy looks at him, eyes still wet. "You would?"

"Of course.” He says, before scooting just a smidgen closer. “Might have to ask you to return the favor though. Nancy said some things tonight and I could really use a second--”

A loud curse makes them both startle, interrupting Steve.

Together, they look around before another noise, like bark being scraped, draws both their attention to the large oak that stands in the backyard.”

"Is…is that Eddie Munson?" Chrissy asks.

"I think so."

Chrissy squints a little, as if not quite believing what she's seeing. "Is…he stuck in a tree?"

Steve finds himself staring in his own disbelief, hands moving to his hips as he watches Munsons wriggling, cursing form.

"I think so." He repeats with a shake of his head.

Eddie's foot slips off a branch, once, twice.

"Hey--" Steve calls out in warning, but unfortunately it comes too late.

The branch under his foot gives away with a startling crack! as another branch shreds Munson's jacket as his full weight caches on it.

"Oh!" Chrissy gasps, hand flying to her mouth as Eddie falls right onto his ass with a yelp.

"You good man?" Steve asks, rising from his chair, hesitant to go over but needing to make sure the idiot hasn't cracked his skull open.

Chrissy has no such qualms, popping up to run over to Munson.

"You're bleeding." She tells him worriedly, dropping to her knees to get a better look.

"Well shit." Munson says with a wonky grin. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Chrissy asks, as Steve’s newly honed babysitting instincts kick in and drive him to get up and look at Munson’s injury himself.

Chrissy carefully strokes the older teen’s hair out of his face, as Steve bends down to check his head and neck.

"You hurt anywhere?" He asks, spotting the scratch that had Chrissy worried.

It’s on his forehead--the guy must have knocked his face against the tree when he fell. Head injuries always bleed a ton but this one's well contained to a small scrape.

Probably not a concern, though Steve looks at his pupils anyways.

"Nah, I’m pine. I didn't mean to drop in on you guys.” He waves a hand behind him before dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that tree, it was pretty shady.”

Steve, long trained by Dustin, narrows his eyes. "Are you making puns right now?"

"Maybe?" Munson hedges, looking delighted to have been called out.

“Uh huh.” Steve puts his hands back on his hips, straightening up from where he’d crouched down. “Your head okay? You remember your name and shit?”

“Edward Edwardian Munson, present and ready for duty!” He gives a mock salute, before dropping Chrissy a wink. “If the duty is drinking and playing games that is.”

“Your middle name cannot be Edwardian.” Chrissy laughs.

"It is!" He defends, at the same time Steve says,

“It's not "

“Oh?” Munson challenges, as if this entire situation isn’t ridiculous. “Then what is my middle name, Sir Steven?”

“No idea, but I know it’s not that.”

Munson blows a raspberry at him. “Well then, maybe you should mind your own beeswax."

"Like you were doing? Up in the tree right above us?" Steve banters back.

The playful look dies a little, Munson beginning the painful process of standing after one falls.

"For the record, I absolutely was not eavesdropping, you guys just happened to be under the tree I climbed and I was there first. " He says it rapidly, like he's used to being accused of such things, and is heading off as many problems as he can.

Steve just ignores it, opting instead to hold his hands out. One to Chrissy and one to Eddie.

Watches surprise cross the older teens face, even as he waits for Chrissy to get up before accepting Steve's hand.

"Why were you up a tree? The family dog run you up there?" Steve grunts as he pulls the metalhead up.

"Funny." Munson quipped sarcastically. "But no. I was up there for reasons."

'Reasons.' Steve mouths, and has to fight himself to keep from grinning.

"Even though I was there first, I did happen to hear some things." He looks at Chrissy, voice turning serious. "If you need any help getting things through Carver's thick skull I'd love to lend a hand."

"You would cheer for me too?"

"Oh absolutely. I'd make a far better cheerleader than Harrington here." He shoots a grin towards Steve to take the edge off the words, before doing a far more enthusiastic mimicry of the cheerleaders pom pom routine.

"But I know how much Carver hates the word no. If you break up with him and he gives you shit after, I'm happy to step in."

Steve hadn't actually thought about that yet, but given what he knew of Jason it makes sense.

He could easily see Chrissy worrying about Jason harassing her after the break up.

"Thank you. Both of you." She sniffs. "Eddie, are you sure you're okay?"

"Right as rain!" Munson gives a rather theatrical thumbs up. "I'll let you in on a family secret, we Munson's have rubber bones."

She gives him another giggle for his efforts, and even Steve can’t fully cover his

Munson, the ass, notices.

“Well call me the court jester, I got both the King and Queen to smile!” He cheers.

Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it.

"Chrissy!?" Someone barks, loud in the otherwise quiet backyard.

"Speak of the devil." Eddie drops his voice dramatically as Jason strides out of the house.

"I've been looking for you." He chides, two of his friends following close behind.

They're younger members of the basketball team, ones Steve's brain sluggishly attempts to remember.

"Are your knees dirty?" Jason asks Chrissy, disgust tinting his voice as he slowly looks from her to Munson next to her.

His eyes narrow, expression almost offronted.

"You heathen." Jason snarls, stepping forward with a fist clenched.

It was a move right of the sitcoms Steve swore he didn't watch, and it looked just as cheesy in real life as it did on screen.

"Calm down." Steve speaks up, hands going to his hips.

Jason's head jerks as he registers him, so focused on Munson that Steve slipped his notice entirely.

"Harrington?" He asks, as if Steve could be mistaken for anyone else here.

Steve gives him jazz hands in return.

"What are you doing out here?" Jason speaks only to Steve, whole body angling towards him like he's the only person who matters.

It's something Steve's dad does, if there's a businessman he considers to be an equal in the room. Zoning in on them, so he can subtly work in ways to make them feel inferior.

It's narcissism at its core (or so says his mother, when she's blitzed out on too many glasses of wine.)

"Talking to people." Steve deadpans. "If you're looking for beer, you walked past it."

Jason entire face pinches, like he just stepped in dog shit. "No one just talks to Munson."

It's a stupid thing to say, and whatever Hason was trying to imply with it wasn't appreciated.

"Well mark me as the first." Steve's hip cocks, voice frosting over.

Surprise washes across Munson's face, though he remains silent as Steve deals with Jason.

Probably a smart move, given how Jason seems to be eager for a fight.

"Whatever it is you're doing, you can leave Chrissy out of it." He says, and god his voice even sounds like Steve's dad.

"Chrissy," Steve says, with an eyebrow raise he knows looks judgemental, "can speak for herself."

He turns to face her, inviting her to the conversation, in the same way he'd always wished someone would invite his mother to speak against his father.

Watches as the cheerleader bites her lip, trying hard to hide the tears that have sprung to her eyes--but proves that she's stronger than Steve's mother ever was.

She steps forward, taking the opportunity offered to her with a steadying breath. "Jason--"

"You can explain it to me later." Her boyfriend waves her off, like she was a waitress offering water and not his partner.

Uncaring entirely that she's clearly upset.

That she wants to talk.

Munson has come to stand on Chrissy's other side, gone still in a way Steve's never seen him do.

It's downright weird for a guy who's normally always moving, and Steve knows it's defensive.

He's feeling a little defensive himself right now, though he doesn't want to particularly untangle why.

"Jason, listen to me." Chrissy tries again.

In his preffery vision, Steve spots a flash of familiar color. Turns his head automatically, seeking it out--and sees Jonathan hustling Nancy across the room.

The younger man is trying to balance Nancy while opening the front door, and for a second Steve almost beelines for them, except--

Except.

Nancy's whole body moves in what Steve intimately knows is an exhale, leaning her head in the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.

One arm wraps around his waist, as Jonathan finally gets the door open, and Steve watches with a stunned sort of horror as his girlfriend presses a kiss to Jonathan's shoulder.

It's fine.

He's fine.

Nancy was just--drunk. Seeking comfort. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't mean it like that, she didn't--

"Oh shit Harrington." Jason drawls, a lazy sort of taunt. "I think Byers just stole your girlfriend."

Steve's head snaps back to him, the emotions he was attempting to box up flying to the front of his brain like dogs who slipped their leash.

"Never thought a priss like Nancy would be easy like that, but then, you never were the kind of guy to inspire loyalty." Jason continues, clearly ignoring his own girlfriend and all Steve can see is red.

Munson sucks air between his teeth next to him, nervously eyeing Steve while Chrissy's eyes have gone wide with shock and growing anger.

"Jason!" She admonishes, but he's not even looking towards her.

That too sharp smile is all for Steve.

He thinks of Nancy, the way she'd been so angry with him but so gentle with Jonathan.

He thinks of the monster he faced down in the Byers house, the terror that had shrank down to that same adrenaline soaked focus he had on the basketball court.

He thinks of this asshole Junior in front of him.

Making Chrissy cry just because she'd been kind enough to try to help Eddie, and accept Eddie's kindness in return when the weirdo tried to help her and Steve both.

Steve taps his foot, then switches his stance.

'Plant your feet.' Hargroves voice snarls in his memory and Steve wouldn't be surprised if the asshole abandons the keg long enough to come watch this.

Have his turn at heckling, just because he can.

Steve plants his feet anyway.

"You know what Carver?" He says, hands dropping from his hips.

Jason's face curves into a smile. "What?" He says, tone smarmy.

"You're full of shit."

Hand cocking back of its own accord, Steve puts every bit of himself into his punch.

Feels it reverberate up his arm as his knuckles connect to Jason's cheek.

It's going to hurt later, but right now all he can do is stand over Jason as the asshole's head snaps sideways, legs staggering him backwards until he's falling into his friends.

Chrissy gasps, Jason's boys chanting variations of 'Oh shit!'

Steve just glares him down.

The junior wipes his bloodied mouth, letting his friends push him up before shrugging them off.

"You're going to regret that." Jason snarls, and Steve squares up a second time, expecting to be rushed, when the sharp snickt! of a switchblade freezes them both.

"I think we're done here." Munson says, knife in hand.

The blade he holds is stained a deep, russet red. Crusty flakes fall off it, drifting gently down to the patio floor.

Jason's eyes boggle at it for a moment before he stands up straight.

"Now it makes sense. You're weak, Harrington, letting the Freak get his claws into you." Jason spits bloodstained saliva down at Eddie's feet. "No wonder Coach wants Billy as co-captain!"

Steve just scoffs.

"Chrissy!" Carver barks, making the poor girl jump. "Come here, we're leaving!"

Trembling, but stepping closer to Steve, she shakes her head.

"Chrissy." Jason orders again, and has the audacity to point to his feet, like a man commanding his dog.

"No." Chrissy says it quietly at first, voice a little shaky, before she seems to realize it.

She stands taller, repeats herself in a stronger voice. "No, Jason. We're done."

Jason stares at her, hard. "Chrissy, your mother told me to bring you home. So I'm going to take you home and get you away from this--demon and his lackey!"

It doesn't sound loving.

It sounds like a threat.

He steps forward, hand out to grab her arm and Steve tenses, shifting to step in front of Chrissy.

Eddie beats him there.

The word demon seems to awaken something in him, because his face is now grinning theatrically, voice dipping low in pitch.

"You heard her, Carver. She said no, and even I respect a lady's wish. So run along now," he walks two fingers in the air, from the hand not waving the knife around. "before I decide to make you and her both one of mine, just as I did Harrington!"

Jason actually crosses himself, before making one last attempt for Chrissy.

"That monster is dangerous. if you don't come with me, I'll have to alert your parents." He locks eyes with her. "For the good of your soul."

Steve snorts at that crock of shit, but Eddie lunges forward, slashing the knife in the air.

It's nowhere near Jason, but the guy leaps a foot back anyway.

"Begone!" Eddie booms, and that's all it takes for Jason and his cronies to huff and puff and stride away.

He keeps his arms in the air for a few beats more, before dropping them when it's clear Jason won't be back.

"So I'm yours, huh?" Steve drawls, as Eddie finally puts his hands down and turns to face them.

The guys scary face drops into something almost excited, and Steve can practically see the adrenaline crackling through him.

"Hey it worked. Carver's a religious nut, he goes running anytime you even hint at Satan." Eddie shrugs, grinning wildly. "Put on a little show and poof! Him and his flying monkeys melt away!"

He mimes melting and Steve stares at him for it, until he hears Chrissy laughing next to him.

Eddie grins at her and Steve is hit with the realization that it was for her benefit. To make her feel better about her psycho ex.

Something fond and familiar winds through his chest as the other boy bows.

He refuses to put a name to it.

"Did you paint your knife?" He asks instead, rubbing the hand he hit Jason with.

"What?" Eddie asks, startled out of his court jester act.

Steve nods to his hand holding the switchblade. "That's not blood, it's way too red."

"Ah." Eddie turns the grin back on, and this time it's for Steve. "Yeah, it's uh. Modeling paint. Not like Carver would know the difference."

Unspoken was the fact that he hadn't thought Steve would.

Prior to last year, he'd have been right.

Drunken cheering erupts into wild yells inside, breaking whatever spell the three of them were under.

Hargrove's voice is the loudest among them, and the dude is definitely wasted.

Steve has a feeling Hargrove also knows the difference between paint and blood, rendering Munson's knife trick useless if the dick tried to start something.

"Do you want a ride home, Chrissy?" He asks quietly.

"If it's not a bother." She says, wiping tears shed refused to let fall from her eyes.

Chrissy Cunningham was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.

"Come on, Munson, I think it's time we all make our exit." Steve says, finding himself weirdly unwilling to leave the older teen behind.

Eddie could hold his own, but given how badly things were playing out Steve figured it was best if they all just called it a day.

"Yeah lemme just…" Munson puts his blade away, fumbling at his pockets for a moment before turning and snatching up a metal lunchbox.

"There! After you, my liege." He says, before opening the lunchbox to make it talk.

"My lady." He makes it say, pitching his voice high.

Chrissy breaks into giggles again and Steve rolls his eyes, but he claps his good hand on Eddie's shoulder as he walks past.

Eddie smiles at him, this one a bit softer than the others, eyes sparkling and Steve chooses not to read into that either.

The three of them walk together, Eddie splitting off to his van after Chrissy thanks him.

Part Two

[al-luviec]

sensei morro ref (is it really an au if it's part of your personal canon)

[myimaginationplain]

On one hand, I think that Kiyi is actually a wonderful idea for a character; you can get a lot of interesting stories out of inserting this innocent, guiless little girl into such a fraught & complex pre-existing family dynamic.

However, some mind-numbingly bad storytelling decisions surround Kiyi's existence in canon. Ursa's magical amnesia chief among them; it is so goddamm boring to take a character with as much baggage to chew on as Ursa has, only to make it so she has to grapple with literally none of it.

No Ursa looking at baby Kiyi & mourning for the two babies she was forced to leave behind, grieving children who are still alive. No Ursa looking at Kiyi grow up & seeing Zuko & Azula in her, equally as happy as she is afraid for her. No Ursa trying to give Kiyi as normal & happy a childhood as she can, while constantly looking over her own shoulder, praying that she won't be recognized. No Ursa hearing wild rumors about her older children's whereabouts & actions, not knowing what to believe.

No, instead of any of that, we just get Ursa becoming a blank slate who can now go off & live a blissfully ignorant happily ever after with her (equally blank) high school sweetheart, forgetting the very children whom she risked everything for in the first place. And that sucks.

Also, if I were writing Kiyi, I'd just say fuck it & make her Ozai's kid. That's a thousand times more interesting.

[synonymroll648]

headcanon that the reason sophie still has eyelashes to pull on the regular is that grady and edaline worked something out with the dizznees to get a tasteless formula to help eyelash growth specifically to put drops of in her bottles of youth. because there’s no way her ptsd-induced trichotillomania (oversimplified definition for those who aren’t familiar: hair pulling disorder) is gonna die down during the war, so they’re trying to make sure she doesn’t move from eyelashes to eyebrows or her Hair hair by giving her More Eyelashes

[h-didanart]

I could try to make this a whole comic, but I don’t have the patience to. So….

Bloodmoon giggled to himself as he scurried away. It wasn’t always that he could get such a good glance at the Daycare idiot’s daily routine, but when he did, boy was it a blast.

Some odd creature emerged from the portal and some confrontation took place, he was excluded from it, having been up in the rafters and all, so he had been in a perfect position to see the absolute frustration in the Sun-Man’s face as the creature toppled over his precious barrel towers, and then, and then— he snorted just remembering— and then the Sun-Man chased around the creature screaming every single swear word that could ever be said.

He had almost fallen off the rafters from laughing too hard, which had sadly gotten him spotted by the computer, which meant he had to leave. But still, it had been very amusing, so now he was on his way to the place he and the little Pumpkin Sprout usually met at— the theatre basement, with its infinite food supply and stuff— and he was going to talk to them about it, because they had to know.

He entered the space, bouncing in place at seeing the pumpkin bot already there, and he approached them.

Hmm, Little Sprout didn’t usually go for knives that quickly. Nor did they usually tackle him that quickly, nor would they aim for his eye, nor would they be the ones to start a sneak fight, nor— okay this was just not how Jack normally acted. Which meant…

[fistfuloflightning]

It was a slip of the tongue, Shen Yuan screamed internally. He’d been thinking of—well, it didn’t matter what he was thinking of! It just slipped out and now Jiu-ge was laughing at him behind his fan and thinking all kinds of awful ways to mock him for those three words.

He risked a glance back up, only to catch Shen Jiu’s fleeting smile before it hid itself again. He closed his fan with a snap before using the end to tip up Shen Yuan’s chin. “Took you long enough,” he murmured. Lips pressed to Shen Yuan’s cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. “I love you too.”

[wlntrsldler]

thinking non-canon luke thoughts because i just remembered the story of orpheus and eurydice and i had to take a breather

im thinking about how when luke was starting to have doubts about kronos’ plan; when he was slowly realizing that what the titan was planning was not going to fix everything the way he thought it would, kronos could feel luke slipping away.

im thinking about how it probably wouldn’t have been too late for luke to turn back and return to his friends, his family, and beg for their forgiveness, had he just not shown kronos his weakness, his achilles heel; but he did.

it was in a dream, it started out comforting, like it always did. luke was cleaning up after some of the younger campers in the hermes cabin. no matter how many times he told them to not leave their things on the floor and to throw away their snack wrappers, they wouldn’t listen. luke didn’t know why he wasted his breath reminding his siblings.

you were leaning against the door frame, a mischievous smile on your lips. “what’s up, cinderella?”

luke, startled, dropped the pile of dirty laundry he was holding. when he realized it was you, he rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head, “i told you to stop calling me that.”

when you first called him cinderella, he was a little confused. the disney princesses all blurred into one entity in his mind. was she the one who ate the poisoned apple? the one who pricked her finger on the needle? there’s no way she was the mermaid, right?

when you returned the following summer, you managed to smuggle in a dvd of cinderella and one of those portable dvd players. the two of you watched it in secret while the rest of the campers were away at the bonfire.

at first, luke scoffed at the comparison, “how am i cinderella?”

“you always clean up after your siblings, silly,” you laughed.

he was still a little hurt by it, especially since he harbored a massive crush on you. why couldn’t you see him as a rugged prince or something? he thought maybe wishing that you saw him as a knight would be too cliche; but he accepted the kind-hearted pet name because it made you laugh. it was luke’s favorite sound.

the scene in his dream changed quickly after that. your mischievous smile turned into something more sinister as the darkness from outside trickled into the cabin. the pile of clothes he dropped on the floor disappeared and the floor began to crack, as if trying to swallow him whole. then the voice came.

luke knew that kronos knew about you then; how luke felt about you, how if there was anything that could stop him from joining, it would be you.

as the days went on, the pull to return back to camp was getting stronger. luke wanted to see you. he needed to see you. so he did.

behind the trees of your cabin, he stood there, watching you talk to your siblings. if he concentrated hard enough, his mind could replay the sound of your laughter. he was too far to actually hear it then, but he thought of it. he imagined it.

he even let out a silent chuckle when he thought about how badly you would tease him for spying on you like this; in another life, you’d catch him and joke about how he couldn’t get enough of you. in another life, maybe, he’d hear your laugh again. maybe he’d be the reason for it.

when kronos learned of luke’s escapade, the titan grew angry. the nightmares felt more personal after that. kronos seemed to know all of luke’s weak spots and threatened to act on them if luke disobeyed again.

there was one night that was particularly difficult. the titan was growing stronger and it was the first time luke couldn’t fight him off, the first time he felt himself losing control over his own body, his own mind. luke tried to wake up from his slumber, but it was no use.

kronos dangled a promise in front of him; a promise that if luke continued with the plan, a promise that if luke didn’t look back, kronos would leave you alone, that you’d survive. luke agreed to it. luke would do anything to save you.

but the pull was still there. kronos was right. luke wanted to leave, this he was sure of now, and the night he saw you just made it more difficult to follow through with the plan. he missed you.

in the final battle, luke was too weak to continue fighting. there was so much blood on his hands that he lost track of who he had hurt. he was tired. as he was about to succumb to his fate, he heard it.

“cinderella,” you called out. “hermes cabin is a mess. they need you back.”

luke was distracted by you. only you would be making jokes at a time like this. luke sent you a crooked smile and he received that mischievous smile of yours right back. he thought that it might morph into something evil, like it was one of his dreams, but it didn’t; it turned into something worse.

there was blood spilling out of your mouth. you froze in your spot before falling to your death.

“you looked back.” that voice.

he found enough strength then to do one last thing; with a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, luke stabbed himself in his mortal spot.

[autistic-katara]

being a fanfic writer is rewatching part of ur fav show and taking notes

[mjulmjul]

smoke and mirrors

[sarah-sandwich-writes]

Have I mentioned I HATE the way I outline??

Why do I always have to figure out the plan? Why can't past Sarah figure out the plan for once???

[technoturian]

I just realized something. It's probably not coincidence that a "great plague" hit Vault 33 right when Rose left. Likely, the plague was cover for her disappearance and death, they were able to quarantine the residents so none of them would discover what happened to her and the kids. However wasn't it said that people, multiple, died of starvation during that time? The implication here is that Betty and Hank actually let a bunch of Vault 33 residents slowly and painfully starve to death just to cover their tracks.

[thunderstomm]

I’m nothing without you

Well maybe not nothing, But a whole lot less - It’s true…!

[leafatlaw]

See on one hand, Im pretty happy with how the horror in bitb is handled. Its creepy, gory and all around fun. But on the other hand I think the pcs got off too easy. Sometimes I like to think of a bitb where the bugs are more connected to the land and town. Where the cicadas and clicks began to sound like a lullaby their mother would sing. Where the bayou was always a little red-ish and the air always a little heavy and sweet. I like to think that alcohol is scarce because so few of the residents drink it( and now you have to think its its simple preference or...). Im thinking of a bitb where kian and rolan come home to a galloway changed in a huge unexplainable way.

But it still (despite of , or maybe because of it all) feels like home.

[hextechmaturgy]

what do you mean the inquisition couldn't bother seeking out and killing venatori what did i spend my entire time in that game doing

[watchyourbuck]

Buck and Eddie pretend they don't go to the gym together only to check each other out. Sometimes it's at the firehouse, sometimes it's the actual gym, but the motives are consistent.

Buck has been lying for months to do the same routine as Eddie, he's even had to snuck to the gym alone a few times to complete his own workout. He's so tired of doing abs, but it's worth it. When he sees the man on the mat next to him flex and sweat, it feels like a treat. A delicious, low on carbs treat.

They take turns on the machines and stare awkwardly at each other while the other does the set. Eddie almost always has to turn partially around to hide the growing hardon on his pants as he sees Buck do literally anything with his arms.

It takes nine whole months before Buck breaks and tells Eddie he has a leg day coming up that doesn't align with their program. The puppy eyes on his buddy are almost enough to make him take it back, but his doctor urged him to distribute his workout evenly. He's still on bloodthinners. Kinda, sorta.

So the day arrives and it feels like the end of titanic as they march to opposite sides of the gym. Buck does what he needs and feels good about it, although he can't shake the feeling that there's something missing.

Next time he sees Eddie it's when they go back to the showers at the very end. It's late and only a few tired voices can be heard through the walls and stalls. They chat momentarily, a stupid eye-to-eye smile on both on them, but the conversation is shallow and dull, and truly, Buck can't do this anymore so he closes the distance and kisses him.

Eddie is shocked only for a few seconds, but then he grabs Buck's waist and pulls him closer, deepening the kiss. It's sloppy and it tastes like sweat, but neither of them pull back until the lights of the bathroom flicker.

"Wanna go home and make up for the time we didn't spend together?"

Truly Buck cannot grab his shit fast enough.

[crownedwille]

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