#worth like 20-40 soldiers.

[n1ghtwarden]

i appreciate that there is.... no 'good' or 'bad' ending per say for minth beyond the character choices - either she gets what she wants and controls the absolute with tav/durge, or she.... immediately hatches a (rather foolish) plan to go conquer the underdark and turn it into an empire with herself at the head.

#minth 4 president of faerun (evil dictator edition) #'let us conquer the underdark' girl give it up. go to a beach. you are going to get yourself killed for real. #is this part of her ultimate scheme to fight her religious trauma by smiting 1v1ing lolth. #ooc. claireposting. #i say rather foolish bc like.... even IF she has the steelwatch... girl.... its not happening. isnt the saying that one drow fighter is #worth like 20-40 soldiers. #she wants to be the saviour but she wants to be feared. doesn't want to be the hero. she wants to be the person they think saved them befor #turning around and plunging a knife into their back. #girlboss..... #ironically my plan for her solo ending involves much less evil scheming (that will come later)

[buckys-wintersoldier]

I only want you | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Female!Reader

Summary -> During the party he confesses his feelings for you, he kisses you but the next day he isn’t the same anymore. Your best friend is the biggest idiot you have ever seen and you don’t know why.

Warnings -> Bucky being an idiot, mention of Bucky’s past/trauma, Sharon being a bitch, hurt/comfort, angst, crying, kind of insults, fluff

Wordcount -> 7.1k (it’s long but it’s worth it, I guess)

A/N: I want to thank @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for listening when I came up with that idea as well as supporting me to find the way through all the ideas, and thank you so much for proofreading it, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry when I hurt someone, trust me I cried a lot while I wrote that oneshot but I just needed to write something to calm down my feelings and yeah here we are. I hope you all enjoy it.

Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky isn’t really a drinker, especially not since he became the Winter Soldier. He enjoys the taste, but the serum that is constantly running through his veins makes it impossible for him to experience the effects of the alcohol. It isn’t rare that he wishes to get drunk so he can forget all the memories of the things she did during the time with Hydra. It’s like Thor knew exactly about his thoughts because he is waving a flask of Asgardian Ale in front of Bucky, and the brown-haired man decides it is the perfect opportunity to drink his troubles away.

“Buck, you shouldn’t drink too much of that Asgardian Ale,” you mumble while you sit next to your best friend and look at him. You know about his trouble and about his traumatic past, but you also know it’s never an opportunity to drink it away. He has the glass completely full again and smiles at you.

“It’s oke; I can’t get too drunk. I’m the Wiener Soldier,” he says and bursts out laughing. Then he lifts his glass and turns around. "Cheers!" he shouts through the room, even when it’s almost impossible that someone hears it.

The music is way too loud to hear your own words without shouting. So it isn’t surprising when the people in the room don’t hear what Bucky shouts. Except for the two next to him, you and Steve.

“Cheers, pal!" Steve shouts and lifts his glass as well. He smiles at Bucky before he pours the liquid down his throat. You shake your head and turn around. Your back leans against the counter, and you place your forearms on top of the counter, looking at the people dancing in the middle of the room.

“Haven’t felt like that since the 40’s,” Bucky groans, filling his glass again. Then he turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. “I feel like I’m 20 again; it feels better than I thought. Do you always feel like that?” he asks and places his hand on your shoulder, standing up slowly to stand in front of you.

Then he winks at you while he almost falls to the side. You almost burst out laughing when he tries to grab something to not fall.

“Woah, the room is spinning. I didn’t know Tony was able to build something like that,” your best friend says while holding your shoulders so he won’t fall down.

You look at him and grip his arms to lead him to the seat next to you again, but he doesn’t want to move. You giggle when he leans closer, and the stubble from his beard tickles you. Bucky kisses your cheek softly.

“My lady, wanna dance with me?” he asks and looks at you with the most adorable puppy look.

His blue eyes are almost begging you to dance with him, and even when you would prefer to bring him into his room and make sure he goes to sleep, you can’t say no.

With a nod, you stand up as well, and he wraps his arms immediately around your waist. He doesn’t walk far away from the counter, just a few steps, so the two of you can dance without crashing against something. Bucky spins you around while he holds you still, pressed against him.

You wonder how it must feel for him when the room is already spinning, but the way he smiles and looks at you makes your mind dizzy, and you can’t think of anything other than him. You lay your head against his shoulder, and the heat of his body warms you. His hands are around your waist, making you almost melt in his embrace, and you could stay like that for the rest of the evening.

After a few minutes and Bucky almost lying on the ground and sleeping, you push him to the seats. Making sure he doesn’t miss the chair, when he sits, he immediately looks for his glass.

“Where is it? I’m thirsty," he says, looking at you with a slightly sad gaze.

You feel a bit sorry for him, but you reach for another glass, this time with water. Bucky looks at it skeptically, but then he pours it down his throat. Shaking his head like it’s something awful he doesn’t like. You chuckle, and it makes him look at you.

“Have you ever tried that? That’s awful,” he tells you and offers you the glass even when it’s empty.

“It’s not that bad,” you reply, and you take the glass to place it on the counter next to you.

“We should bring you into your room, you should sleep a bit,” you say, taking his hands into yours.

Before you can pull him up, and with you out of the room, he pulls you closer, and his lips are just a few inches away from yours. He is so close that you can feel his breath against your lips; it's warm and smells strongly of the ale he has consumed. You need to close your eyes for a moment. The man in front of you is making you go crazy.

“I don’t want to go to bed, not yet. I want to kiss you first, can I?” he asks you, and you immediately feel like he is Bucky from the 40’s again. And even when you don’t agree to drink his troubles away, you’re happy that he doesn’t have to suffer with his past right now. And let’s be honest, the 40’s Bucky is a gentleman, and you always wanted to know him; now you have the chance, at least for tonight.

“Doll?” Bucky asks, and you feel a shiver along your spine because of his soft voice.

You look into his eyes and smile softly.

“Of course,” you answer, not sure anymore about the question he asked.

He leans closer and kisses you softly. Bucky’s pink, plumb lips are so soft on yours, you never imagined them being that soft. You slide your hands through his hair, playing with his light curls. His lips move slowly against yours, while he lets you feel everything you tried to avoid when you’re around him. The feeling in your stomach whenever he touches you, the way he looks at you, or talks to you. You adore the way he tells you ‘Doll’ and you enjoy every moment you can spend with your best friend.

And that’s the point where you thought he would never feel the same for you. He is your best friend, and he was always a gentleman, so you were sure he was just nice. And now he is kissing you, with his hands at your waist, holding you close. Bucky is drunk, so you aren’t sure if it’s just a situation of his drunken state, but they always say: drunk people tell the truth, so he would feel the same for you as you feel for him.

When the two of you move a few inches away from each other, you still look into his eyes. His gaze looks a bit foggy, but you can also see the storm in his blue eyes.

“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know. You don’t know what you do to me whenever you look at me or just touch me softly. My feelings go crazy, and whenever another man walks close to you, I want to push them away and tell them you’re mine. I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you,” Bucky says, and he smiles softly, his cheeks turning slightly red. “I have loved you for so long, but I thought you would never love me the same way. I was the Winter Soldier, and I don’t think I deserve someone brave, strong, wonderful, and perfect like you,” he adds, leaning his forehead against yours, wanting you to be as close as possible and feel your warmth.

You smile and press your lips against his again. The tingling feeling in your stomach grows again, and when he stands up, he towers over you, placing his hands around your cheeks, and he pulls you closer.

“I love you so much, my doll,” he whispers and slowly lets go of you, his hands gripping your waist again.

“I love you too, Buck. And you deserve everything good; it wasn’t you when you were the Winter Soldier. You’re a gentleman and the most precious one; I love the way you care about everyone you love,” you tell him, and he blushes.

Bucky lifts one of his hands and presses two of his fingers onto your lips, trying to make you shut up before you can compliment him more.

“You need more than two fingers to make me shut up,” you giggle, and his smile grows before he leans down and presses his lips on yours. He makes you speechless with the way his soft and warm lips move against yours.

“You two are almost disgusting,” Steve mumbles next to you, making you chuckle.

When you and Bucky break the kiss, you look at Steve. He still looks at you and blushes when he recognizes that you caught him looking at you and Bucky.

“You think it’s almost disgusting, but you can’t stop looking at us, huh?” you ask, and he immediately turns his head away while his cheeks get deeply red.

When you turn your head back to look at Bucky, you feel a burning look in your back. Without looking around, you already know the person who is staring at you with the same angry gaze; she always looks at you. Bucky recognizes your thoughtful look and looks up to see the person behind you. His hand clenches around your waist, and you hiss softly.

“Sorry, doll,” he mumbles, immediately losing his grip around your waist.

“Tony is staring at mine,” he growls, and you look around. You see Tony standing on the other side of the room and looking in your direction. He looks annoyed, and when you look a few inches further to the side, you see the person who is burning a hole in your back. Bucky thinks it’s Tony who is looking at you, but you know he is just listening to the person next to him. She is the one who hates you for being Bucky’s best friend, and now she will hate you more because Bucky kissed you. Sharon has had a crush on Bucky since you met her the first time, and he sometimes looks flirty around her, but he is always like that around friends. Otherwise, he would date Tony, Thor, or Steve as well.

The next morning, you wake up to the sun slowly brightening your room. You open your eyes and smile when the flashbacks of the last night come back into your mind. You and Bucky shared a lot more kisses, soft touches, and dances during the night.

You sit up slowly, stretching your limbs, and look at the clock. It’s just a bit after ten in the morning. After a few more minutes where you just look out of the window and enjoy the sun and the comfortable silence in your room, you stand up and walk through your bathroom.

With a few movements, you get out of your clothes and walk into the shower. The hot water runs along your body, and you feel your muscles relaxing under the warmth. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment just for you. In front of your eyes, you see Bucky kissing you the way he did last night. Your fingers are brushing softly over your lips, and for a moment, you feel like he is kissing you again. His hands are around your waist, and his body is pressing against yours.

But when you open your eyes, you just hear the sound of the water and your towel in front of you. No Bucky, right now. Just the thoughts making you smile again and the feeling in your stomach are the most wonderful you have ever felt until now. You are already excited to see him in a few minutes, but first you need to finish your shower and choose some comfortable clothes to wear.

With the biggest smile on your lips, you walk through the floor and into the shared kitchen.

“Someone looks really happy today,” Tony says, and you blush immediately.

Your eyes scan the room, so you can find Bucky and go to him. Talk to him about the last night and make sure you meant what you said. When you walk a few steps further into your room, you see Steve lying on the couch, holding his hand and groaning.

“I don’t know what happened last night. Tony, how can you manage to never have a headache?” he asks, and Tony laughs before he places his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

"Painkillers are really useful. It doesn't help to remember, but they help against the other effects after being drunk,” he says, and Steve nods. He doesn’t want to get up, so he just closes his eyes and tries to sleep a while longer.

You look around and see Bucky in front of the counter. Sharon stands next to him, and her hand rubs his back up and down. You roll your eyes, disgusted about the other girl, as you walk to them.

“Hey, Buck,” you say with a smile, and when the brown-haired man turns around, he smiles softly.

But in another way, as usual, he looks a bit sad, and instead of looking at you, he looks to the side.

“Hey,” he mumbles and takes his bowl with cereal.

Then he walks to the table, and Sharon follows him. You look at them both; maybe he has a hangover? You try to push the negative thoughts away and make yourself a bowl with your favorite cereals. You walk around the table and sit down in front of Bucky; he doesn’t look at you, and he doesn’t talk to you. He was just focused on his cereals and probably deep in his own thoughts.

“Buck?” You ask carefully, and he hums but still doesn’t look up from his bowl. “Can we talk? I mean just you and me?”

He nods in response and finishes his breakfast, then finally looks up to see you. But something is still different when he just loves to look into your eyes and adore the colors, but this time he looks at you like you’re someone else.

He waits until you finish your breakfast as well, and then he follows you through your room. Your best friend closes the door behind himself and looks at you.

“What’s up?” He asks with a cold voice, and you shiver immediately.

“Do you remember last night?” you ask, playing with your hands. You don’t want to look at him; you’re scared about the way he looks at you.

“No, but Sharon told me about it,” he tells you, and you nod softly.

For a moment, the two of you are quiet. You don’t know what to say, but the silence is uncomfortable as well. You shift from one foot to the other, your hands sweating, and you feel like you need to throw up.

“Why are you so cold?” you then ask and look at Bucky.

He clenches his jaw with his eyes staring at you, and the way he looks at you makes you even more uncomfortable. He never looked at you like that; the coldness almost showed hate in his eyes, and you can’t help but feel the tears burning in your eyes. He notices the tears in your eyes, and a sarcastic grin forms on his lips.

“Why are you crying now?” Bucky asks you loudly; you hiss and feel so small in front of him.

“You- Buck, yo-” You start to say something, but he interrupts you.

“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’. You have no right to say that. You don’t deserve to say that,” he shouts, and your eyes widen.

“What do you want me to call you then?” you ask, trying to wipe the tears in your eyes away.

“Use my name. I have it for a reason,” he says, and you nod, not able to say anything.

You don’t know what happened to him. Last night he confessed his love to you, and now he acts like he hates you and has never even thought about loving you.

“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do,” he says, rolling his eyes annoyed.

You feel a tear slowly falling down your cheek, not knowing the man in front of you anymore. He isn’t like your best friend; he isn’t like the one you fall in love with; he isn’t the one who kissed you yesterday; and he isn’t the Bucky, you know.

You shake your head. You want to talk; you really want to, but you can’t. At least not with the man in front of you. Was it all a lie? Was it all just fake? Or what happened that he is the way he is right now.

“Good,” he says, and he turns around to leave the room.

The moment he closes the door behind himself, you break down on the floor. You fall on your knees, the tears streaming down your cheeks, and you’re sobbing loudly. There is no feeling inside of you right now; you feel empty. You stare at the wall in front of you, his face in your mind, his smell, and the way he kissed you last night. You hear his words, like he is standing next to you and saying them to you. The ones of the night when he confesses his love to you and the ones he said a few minutes ago when he was looking at you with his cold, blue eyes.

“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know.”

“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’.”

“I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you.”

“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do.”

It takes a while until you slowly calm down. You're curled on the floor, and the tears are still streaming down your cheeks. But your sobbing is quieter, and you slowly fall asleep on the floor. All the tears and the crying make you so sleepy that you don’t recognize Steve walking into your room and lifting you up to place you in your bed.

He sits next to you, his fingers stroking your hair softly out of your face, and he looks at you with a soft but sad smile. He saw Bucky walking out of the room, his gaze as cold as the whole morning, and even when he doesn’t know what happened at the party, he doesn’t want to leave you alone. But he also doesn’t want to interrupt you while you’re crying because he knows you would have to hide it, and he knows you need to let the feelings out of your body.

You don’t sleep well; nightmares interrupt your sleep every time, but you’re too tired to stay awake for a while. In every dream is Bucky; first he helps you, but in the next moment he shouts at you, laughs at you, and does everything you never thought he would do to you. You’re sweating and whimpering in your sleep, turning from one side to the other.

Steve tries to comfort you with his hand on your thigh, but it doesn’t work. With widened eyes, you wake up, starting to cry again for a few minutes before you fall asleep again. You don’t mind if someone sees you crying or not; you can’t escape Bucky, his coldness, not even in your dreams, and it robs you of all of the strength you have.

“Y/N?” Steve asks when you’re awake, but you turn around so you don’t have to face him.

You mumble a soft ‘mhm’. Steve sighs, his fingers drawing small circles on your thigh.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks, but you shake your head.

You just want to be alone right now. Steve nods and stands up, walking through the door, but before he leaves the room, he turns to you.

“If you need me, you can call me or just come to my room,” he offers.

“Thank you,” you whimper, and the tears are streaming down your face again.

You can’t stop thinking about Bucky; he is burned in your mind like something you need to be. Something you need to be happy, and yes, he is someone you need to be happy. Without him, it doesn’t feel the same; watching your favorite movie wouldn’t be as fun because there is someone missing who holds you when you cry out of joy because they are married. Playing board games wouldn’t be the same because the one freaking out because he doesn’t get what he wants isn't playing the board games with you. Eating your favorite snacks and ice cream wouldn’t be the same because the one man who always laughs about your snack and ice cream decisions wouldn’t laugh. The one cuddling up wouldn’t let you cuddle with him, and you would miss HIS warmth and HIS scent. It’s not just a man; it’s the ONE man; it’s Bucky.

Wrapped in your blanket, you sit against the headboard of your bed. Looking through the channels for something that could distract you. But you feel like Bucky is manipulating the television because every channel shows a movie you used to watch with Bucky.

Everything reminds you of him: every place, every movement. Every second reminds you of Bucky, the memories you both have, and the moments you shared. And now he treats you like you’re the worst thing he has ever seen, and there is no reason why he does it, right?

You don’t want to sit in your room, but you don’t want to see Bucky somewhere as well. But you feel hungry after some time, and even when you wish you didn’t have to stand up to get some food, you don’t want to make yourself feel worse just because of Bucky.

So you slowly get up; it’s already afternoon when you walk through your room. Before you reach the door, you see the pictures on your wall. He and you took so many pictures during trips or parties, some when he was joking and others when he tried to look mad. Even when he really looks like a pouting puppy, when he tries to look mad at you, you always laugh about his pouting face.

You open your door and immediately hear the voices of the others. But there are not a lot of them; just three of them are there and talk. Steve, Bucky, and Sharon. With quiet footsteps, you walk closer to the room. You look at the floor, hoping that no one will see you.

But when your feet meet the ground in the room, the gazes of the three of them are immediately on you. Steve smiles sadly when he sees you. You probably look like a wrack, with red eyes and tears all over your face, but you don’t mind. Sharon looks at you with a smile, and Bucky is as cold as before.

When you make your way to the counter, you hear Sharon flirting with Bucky, and you feel like you want to throw up. You hate her, especially since she is a jealous bitch when you’re with Bucky. And now he has him for himself - exactly the plan she had.

“Buck, look at me,” she says, and you look around to see what they do. That’s the moment you wish you wouldn’t be in the room right now. Sharon leans closer, and her lips meet Bucky’s softly. His arms are wrapped around her waist, and you see yourself in her. The moment you had last night, and now he kisses her, not the one he confessed his love to last night.

The tears forming in your eyes - they're burning. They slowly stream down your cheeks, but you don't make a noise; you just look at them until they break the kiss, and Sharon looks at you with a wide bitch smile again.

“You’re right!" you shout, and Bucky turns around to look at you as well.

With a confused gaze, the two men look at you, and you chuckle sarcastically.

“You don’t deserve me. You’re an idiot, and I would prefer to be killed by the Winter Soldier instead of being your best friend,” you shout, and you see the change in his gaze.

You don’t mean it, not really, but the anger inside of you lets you say things like that.

You see, you hurt him by saying that he has nightmares because of the Winter Soldier; he blames himself for that, and you were the one who was able to give him moments where he didn’t blame himself, but now that you mention the Winter Soldier in a way, you hurt him the most you can. And you’re sorry for that, but you hate him so much right now that you can’t stop yourself from telling him things like that.

“I feel like he would love more than you ever can,” you say, and you walk a few steps closer to him. “I hate you, in a way I never thought it would be possible,” you hiss and turn away to grab some food from the counter before you leave the room.

Bucky looks at you, and the moment those words leave your mouth, his small world breaks a bit more. The only person who loved him so much hates him now. But he deserves it, doesn’t he? And he can’t bring himself to walk to you and ask what he did because he is way too mad at you for a reason he doesn’t want to admit in front of you.

It's been a week now since you saw Sharon and Bucky kissing each other. The day he started to be an ass and the day you told him he didn’t deserve you. And you didn’t change your mind; he hasn't been nice to you since that day; he ignores you; he doesn’t even look at you. His arms are always around Sharon’s body, and his lips are on hers.

You don’t really care about yourself anymore; you’re mostly in your room, crying or just laying there and waiting until you finally fall asleep. Steve tries every day to get you out of bed and wants to plan your favorite trips, but every one of them reminds you of Bucky, and you prefer your warm and comforting bed.

Someone knocks at your door, and you hum in response before Steve opens the door.

“Want to eat something? I cooked, and you need to eat,” he says, but you shake your head and turn around so you don’t have to face him.

Steve sighs softly and walks closer to you. He sits next to you on your bed and runs his fingers along your side.

“Do you want to tell me what happened between you and Buck? He looks different as well since the party,” Steve says thoughtfully, and you slowly turn around to look at him.

Your eyes are red, and he can see the tears all over your cheeks. Steve lifts his hand and wipes the tears away, smiling softly at you. You slowly sit up, your back against the headboard of your bed, and you pull your knees against your chest, wrapping your arms around them and placing your head on your knees.

“I thought-“ you sob quietly. “He said he loved me, and then he suddenly was with Sharon,” you mumble, and you can’t stop the tears again.

“He told you he loved you? When? I mean, I know it, but when did he tell you?” Steve asks, and your eyes widen for a moment.

He knows that Bucky loves you? What happened to Bucky being the way he is when he really loves you? Why is he kissing Sharon when he could have you? He could have the one he really loves.

“At the party, he told me he loved me. He kissed me,” you mumble, and Steve’s jaw drops.

“He finally managed it?” he asks, and you nod.

“And the next day he was the idiot he is, kissing Sharon, and it looks like they are happy together,” you tell him, and he shakes his head.

“I need to talk to him,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You look at him while he leaves your room. He almost runs out of it, and you don’t know why, but you don’t mind. Steve wants to talk to Bucky, but it won’t change his feelings for Sharon. And maybe Bucky thought it was her when the two of you kissed. Maybe he thought it was her when he confessed his feelings.

Meanwhile, Steve rushes into Bucky’s room. He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the television. He doesn’t want to see Sharon today; he misses you, even when it’s just looking at you or hearing you talk. But since you’re in your room and only outside when you’re sure no one else is outside, he hasn’t heard or seen you in days.

“Buck?” Steve asks softly, and Bucky turns his head to look at the brown-haired man. He looks more broken than ever before. Steve walks closer to Bucky and lets himself fall next to his best friend in bed. “Where is Sharon?” he asks, and Bucky shrugs.

“Don’t care,” he says, and he stares in front of him again.

“Pal, what happened that you’re the way you are with y/n?” Steve looks at Bucky and sees the small tear escaping the corner of his eye.

"Nothing; she doesn’t want me,” he answers, and Steve chuckles softly. Stubborn idiot, but still his best friend and the idiot in love with you.

“She told me you confessed your love for her. And the two of you kissed. When she told me, I remembered, and it was her; it wasn’t Sharon, pal,” Steve continues, and Bucky’s eyes widen before he looks at his best friend again.

“We did what? And Sharon, what?” he asks.

“You kissed. You and y/n. But Sharon was just standing next to Tony on the other side of the room and was staring at the two of you,” he repeats, telling Bucky what he remembers. Bucky shakes his head, thinking about the version of the party and then the version he heard.

That’s definitely not what he heard about the evening. That’s not even similar to the things someone told him about.

“No, that’s not true,” Bucky says thoughtfully. “But even when, don't you know anymore what she said? She hates me, Steve." Bucky mumbles, and he feels even worse when he thinks about you, the way he treats you, and the things you said to him. Even when he understands it now, he understands why you said those things.

“I need to talk to her,” Bucky mumbles, but then he shakes his head. “Do you think she would listen?” he asks and looks at Steve, who nods.

“She is in love with you. Even when you’re such an idiot,” Steve tells him, pushing his best friend up. “Talk to her, pal,” he says, and Bucky smiles softly before he walks through the door.

He isn’t sure what to say when he talks to you. Maybe you don’t want to listen; maybe you won’t understand. Or do you really hate him now? Do you want to see him? So many thoughts run through his mind while he walks along the floor, unsure what to do or say when you ignore him or if he messed up after all the things with Sharon.

Bucky reaches your door and knocks softly. He hears your softy ‘come in’ and he opens the door. Now it’s too late to turn around; he has to talk to you now. You look at him, and your gaze gets. immediately cold.

“James,” you say, and he shivers slightly.

He didn’t know something inside of him could break more, but when you called him ‘James’ with that cold voice, something inside of him broke more.

“Doll,” he mumbles, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that; call your new fucktoy that,” you hiss, and he looks at the floor.

You’re mad; he has never seen you like that before, but he can’t blame you. You’re hurt, and he is the reason for that. He hurts you so badly, but he loves you so much more than he can ever tell you. He can’t and doesn't want to be without you when there is just a percent chance for him to be yours. He would do everything to be yours.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He hates when you’re so harsh and cold, but he understands it.

“What do you want here?” you ask, and he plays with his hands before he answers.

“I want to talk to you,” Bucky says quietly, and you chuckle sarcastically.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James,” you say, and you see him wiping some tears away.

“Please,” he begs, but you shake your head. “Can you please listen to me? Please?” he tries again, and he doesn’t want to go without telling you everything he feels, everything about the way he acted, especially why he acted like that. “Doll, please listen to me. Just this time, if you want me to go, then I will, and I will never talk to you again if you don’t want me to,” he says and sobs quietly.

You haven’t seen Bucky crying; sometimes he looked like he was about to cry, but he never cried. And now he stands in front of you, begging and crying for you to listen to him. And you want to listen, but the anger inside of you gets in control of you.

“You could have talked to me earlier. I fucking- I don’t care anymore,” you shout, and he flinches.

The strong super soldier looks like a small boy.

“Please, I love-“

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear all those lies anymore. Just shut up and go with those lies to your new girl,” you say, anger in your voice, and Bucky can’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks.

He hurt you more than he thought he did. But he was so mad at you; he was mad about the things he heard. And now he is about to lose the most important person in his life. He loves you more than everything; he never loved someone as much as he loves you.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I really am. I love you,” he whispers, and you shake your head sarcastically, laughing.

“I saw that. You treated me like the worst person you know; that’s love for you?" you ask, and he immediately shakes his head.

“No, but I didn’t know about the things that happened during the party,” he says, and he walks a step closer, slowly, to make sure you’re oke with it.

You want to throw him out of your room, but you also want to know what happened and why he was the way he was. He wouldn’t beg and cry when it wasn't important to him. So you accept when he takes a seat at the edge of your bed and looks at you. His eyes are red, and you can see the traces of his tears on his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, still blaming himself for doing all this to you. Bucky wants to touch you; he wants to hug you; and he wishes you would tell him it’s oke. But he knows he needs to explain his behavior before he can get some of that; when you’re ready to do it, then.

“What happened that night?”

He is interested in knowing what happened, and you clear your throat before you think about it again. When he turned into an idiot, you tried to avoid all his touches, his words, and his kisses so you didn’t need to cry all the time. And now he wants to know the truth, and you want to tell him, but you don’t want to cry because of that.

“Thor had some Asgardian alcohol there, and it made you drunk. We danced a bit; you told me you loved me; you kissed me,” you tell him, and he nods.

“You didn’t flirt with someone else?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“No, why should I? I love you, and I was happy you felt the same, but then you acted completely different the next day,” you mumble and look at him.

Bucky is playing with his fingers; you see the way he suffers because of his metal arm, and you remember the things you said about the Winter Soldier, and he probably hates his metal arm even more now.

“Why did you do it the way you did, and why are you suddenly so nice again?” you ask, and his jaw clenches slightly. Not in an angry way, but more in a thoughtful clenching.

“The morning after the party, I had a bad hangover and didn’t remember much of that night. I know that I kissed someone, but I don’t know the person. Sharon came into the room, and she asked me how the party was, and I told her I didn't know because I had too much alcohol. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and when I asked her why she said I kissed her that night,” he tells you, and you nod, blaming yourself for being the same way to Bucky as he was to you, even though it’s not his fault.

“I told her I don’t love her because I love you. And she told me about your night with a guy I don’t know. Sharon said you were flirting with me, but you have someone else, and you were flirting with me so you can make jokes with your boy about me being so dumb and really think you could love me the way I love you,” he continues, and your jaw drops slightly.

“Bu- James, there is no one else. I love you, and when you changed into the idiot you were, I hated the thought of you touching Sharon and the way you kissed her. But when you love me, why did you kiss her?” you ask, and Bucky runs his fingers through his hair.

“I wanted a distraction,” he whispers quietly, ashamed of that.

For a moment, you both sit in silence, looking at each other. “Did you really mean it?” he asks, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"When you said those things about the Winter Soldier?” He asks, and you see his hands shaking softly. His anxiety gets worse when he thinks about your answer; maybe you could really mean it? Maybe you really think the Winter Soldier could love more than Bucky can?

“No, I was mad. I’m sorry, Buck,” you say, and he nods. You smile softly when he doesn’t tell you to stop calling him ‘Buck’. “I’m really sorry, but I didn’t see how much I would hurt you with that,” you add.

“I think I deserve it,” he replies, and you want to agree, but you also know it would make him feel worse.

He was an idiot, but now that he sits there, he begs and cries that you listen to him so he can excuse his behavior. He blames himself for so much; you don’t want him to blame himself for more.

“Buck?” you ask, and he hums in response. “Tell me the truth, please.”

You look into his eyes; the blue is as warm as the one you’re used to seeing when he is with you.

“I love you, doll. I never wanted to hurt you; I want to be yours. I want you to be mine,” he says, blushing slightly. You don’t know what to say. You want to tell him you feel the same, but at the same time, you’re scared he will go to Sharon when you’re not enough for him anymore. “I’m sorry, you had to listen. But thank you for listening,” he tells you and stands up to leave the room.

You reach for his metal arm, and he flinches when you touch it.

“Sorry,” you say, slightly shocked, and let go of his arm. Bucky turns around and smiles softly.

“Just didn’t think you would touch it.” His voice is so soft, exactly the way you love when he talks to you.

“Can you stay?” you ask and look down; maybe he would prefer to go to Sharon because you were really mean?

Bucky’s smile grows, and he lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arms around your body, pulling you into his lap. His hands slide your back up and down, and he looks into your eyes like they are the most adorable things he has ever seen. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you play with his soft hair.

He leans closer, his lips almost touching yours, when you stop him.

“Did you brush your teeth and clean your face after she kissed you?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, and Bucky can’t stop himself and bursts out laughing.

“Yes,” he whispers, and he places one of his hands on your neck to pull you closer. His lips touch yours softly, and you almost melt in his embrace. Bucky moves his lips against yours, and a small smile appears on his lips.

“I love you, James,” you mumble against his lips, and he rolls his eyes.

“Can you be serious for a moment, doll?” he asks, laughing, and you look like you need to think about it before you answer him.

“I don’t know what you mean, James,” you giggle.

“But I love you too, doll,” he chuckles, pressing his lips on yours again to make you shut up and feel you as close as possible in that moment. He feels complete and comfortable now, being with his girl, the one he loves more than everyone, the one who loved him even when he was the Winter Soldier.

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @km-ffluv | @kandis-mom | @lives-in-midgard | @bucky-barnes-lover | @felicitylemon | @sweater-bee | @identity2212 | @cjand10 | @bookishtheaterlover7 | @harleycao | @buckyalpine (I tag you here because I can’t find the post where you asked for angst oneshots)

#marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x yn #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky x yn #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female yn #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader

[mariacallous]

Since the start of the Israel-Hamas war, the Biden administration has tried to toe a delicate line: backing Israel’s war against the group in Gaza, while pushing Israel to ease the humanitarian toll of its operations and take the Palestinians’ legitimate political grievances seriously. By all accounts, toeing this line has been a frustrating and thankless endeavor—and, increasingly, a lonely one. Today, even the United States’ closest allies are calling for an “immediate ceasefire” that would put an end to Israel’s operations in Gaza. At home, the White House is facing increasing pressure from Democrats in the U.S. Congress and parts of the Democratic base to change its current tactics in dealing with Israel.

And yet, what the Biden administration understands—and what Israel’s many critics miss—is that the international community cannot dictate a solution to Israel-Hamas war by fiat. If the international community wants Israel to change strategies in Gaza, then it should offer a viable alternative strategy to Israel’s announced goal of destroying Hamas in the strip. And right now, that alternate strategy simply does not exist.

There is a brutal logic to Israel’s actions in Gaza. By its own estimates, Israel has destroyed three-quarters of Hamas’ battalions and killed two of five brigade commanders, 19 of 24 battalion commanders, more than 50 platoon leaders, and 12,000 of Hamas’ 30,000 foot soldiers. American intelligence estimates are lower, but not by much: Between 20 to 30 percent of Hamas’ fighters and 20 to 40 percent of its tunnels are estimated to have been destroyed as of mid-January. It’s also worth remembering that Hamas is structured more like a conventional military than a pure terrorist group. As a rule of thumb, conventional forces are considered combat ineffective once they lose more than 30 percent of their strength and destroyed once they lose 50 percent.

Even if Israel does not stamp out Hamas entirely but merely succeeds in driving it out of power and underground, from Israel’s view, that is still a win—even if stops well short of its goal of destroying the group, for doing so would likely prove sufficient to prevent Hamas from launching another 3,000-man complex assault like the one Israel saw on Oct. 7. Finally, it’s worth remembering that it took the United States several years to defeat the Islamic State. Israel is just over five months into what its leaders promised will be a very long war.

To be sure, there are serious drawbacks to the Israeli approach. This war will encourage long-term radicalization of the Palestinian population, damage Israel’s relationship with its Arab neighbors, and tarnish Israel’s global reputation in a pretty serious way. Yet all of these problems are long term. Too often, states and politics live in the here and now.

At the same time, Israel’s critics have failed—and continue to fail—to offer a coherent alternative way forward. Instead, more often than not, there are vague references for the need for some ill-defined “political solution” to the conflict. To the extent that there is a coherence to this alternate strategy, it revolves around using the threat of diplomatic isolation alongside economic threats that might force Israel to agree to an “immediate ceasefire.” That ceasefire, in turn, would pave the way for a longer-term political settlement, likely around a two-state solution. Problem solved. Or not.

For starters, international pressure and sanctions will not likely compel Israel to compromise. Israelis from the leadership on down are keenly aware that their country was born out of the ashes of Holocaust as a safe-haven for Jews after millennia of persecution. Israel then spent its first quarter-century fighting for its very existence. The idea that the world is aligned against Israel is deeply embedded in the nation’s collective DNA, and chants of “from the river to the sea,” coupled with surging global antisemitism, only ensure that those fears remain very much alive today.

Economic pressure—such as sanctioning settlers or restricting military aid—is unlikely to work, either. In general, sanctions have a poor track record of compelling states to abandon core national security interests. And given the Oct. 7 attacks, this war is nothing if not a core national security interest for Israel. Even if pressure did work initially, for a political solution to be sustainable, Israelis must voluntarily agree, not be pressured into it.

But let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that Israel caved to outside pressure and agreed to an immediate ceasefire. What would the day after look like? Hamas—as Israel and Hamas both acknowledge—would be left with a considerable military force, numbering in the thousands. Israel would then need to engage in another very lopsided deal to free the remaining hostages. In early February, Hamas wanted 1,500 prisoners freed from Israeli jails, including at least 500 serving life sentences for murder and other crimes, in exchange for the hostages.

So, at minimum, the group’s ranks would soon swell. And invariably, some of those released would be quite dangerous. After all, Yahya Sinwar—the head of Hamas in Gaza and alleged mastermind of the Oct. 7 attacks—was freed from an Israeli prison, where he was serving a life sentence for murder, in the 2011 trade of 1,027 prisoners for one captured Israeli soldier, Gilad Shalit. None of this recent history bodes particularly well for long-term peace.

In all likelihood, Israel would respond to a ceasefire by tightening its blockade of Gaza, citing Hamas’ continued existence as one reason for doing so. In particular, Israel would likely put severe limits on the quantities and types of building materials allowed into the Strip. After all, Hamas diverted an estimated 1,800 tons of steel and 6,000 tons of concrete to build its tunnel networks, and Israel would not want to see them rebuilt. The net consequence would be that desperately needed reconstruction would be severely delayed or even brought to standstill.

The fighting would not stop, either. Fearing that Hamas will make good on its promise to repeat the Oct. 7 attack “again and again,” Israel would step up its preemptive strikes on Gaza and the West Bank, particularly whenever it got the first whiff that Hamas might be planning an attack. At the same time, Hamas would continue to attack Israel, if only to reinforce its legitimacy and divert attention away from the likely dismal conditions in Gaza (thanks, in no small part, to the stymied reconstruction effort). In all likelihood, the situation would be right back where it started.

Ah, but wait: Won’t a two-state solution solve this? Probably not. Even before Oct. 7, the majority of Israelis didn’t believe in a two-state solution, or that peace was even possible. There are likely even fewer who believe that now, especially if a Palestinian state were to include Hamas in some form. Consider how unfathomable it would have been for most Americans to support the creation of a state with al Qaeda at its helm just five months after 9/11. There is no reason to believe that the Israeli public should be any different. Given considerable support for Hamas among the Palestinian population, it would be politically impossible to exclude Hamas from a new, democratic Palestinian government. And even if the new state’s government is less than democratic, it would have trouble excluding Hamas entirely—even if it wanted to—if the group still has thousands of men under arms.

But even assuming that overwhelming international pressure forced Israel to agree to a two-state solution, it’s not going to guarantee peace in the short or medium term. There are still a host of thorny issues—including borders, water rights, air rights, the demilitarization of the Palestinian state, and the partition of Jerusalem—that would need to be resolved before a second state could come into being. Then there is the problem that only one-third of Palestinians favor a two-state solution themselves, and nine in 10 don’t trust the Palestinian Authority. For its part, Hamas has made it abundantly clear that it wants one state without Jews under an Islamist banner. None of this means that the international community shouldn’t push for a political settlement, but this is at best a long-term solution, not a near-term fix.

If a two-state solution did come about, it may not bring an end to hostilities. Two states did not solve hostilities between India and Pakistan, or North and South Korea, or North and South Vietnam. Israel would be under no obligation to grant Palestinians—now citizens of a separate country—workers’ permits, which would likely tank the nascent state’s economy, just as it wouldn’t have to provide electricity and other services to Gaza, as it did before the war. At the same time, Palestinians would rightly wonder why their state should be demilitarized and not entitled to the sovereign privileges of a “normal state.” There would perhaps still be Jewish settlers living on the territory of the new Palestine, creating all sorts of problems. Absent genuine buy-in from both sides, a two-state solution would simply turn a local conflict into an international one.

There is a lot to hate about Israel’s war in Gaza. It is a bloody, destructive war that has killed far too many innocents and upended far too many civilian lives. It is by any measure a human tragedy that will reverberate across the region for years to come. But if the international community is not simply grandstanding and actually hopes to solve the tragedy playing out in Gaza, then it needs to begin by offering feasible solutions that address both Palestinian grievances and Israeli security concerns.

To its credit, the Biden administration is at least trying to move in this direction. It is pushing Israel to curtail civilian casualties, set up safe zones, increase humanitarian aid, and move to a longer-term political solution—all while still backing (or at least not outwardly opposing) Israel’s ongoing operations to root out Hamas. Some might call such a balanced approach overly tactical and unable to quickly end the war, but a good strategy is built on sound tactics.

Unfortunately, the Biden administration’s nuance is the exception both internationally and in the domestic debate over U.S. policy. Just as the political right needs to be continuously reminded that the Palestinian population is not going anywhere and Israel cannot kill its way to victory, the political left needs to be reminded that Israelis are also not going anywhere and their equities must also be taken seriously.

Ultimately, if Biden’s critics on the political left want a different war, then they need to offer an alternative strategy and subject that strategy to the same sort of analytical rigor that it trains on Israel’s current military effort. If not, the brutal logic of the current war will remain, and the ongoing tragedy will continue.

[cerastes]

Are there any notable supporters you reccomend? I kinda ignore the class except for gnosis (and I do use scene and deep color in IS a bit) and I wonder if I'm actually sleeping on some fun units.

YOU CAME TO THE RIGHT NEIGHBORHOOD, MOTHER FUCKER, I LOVE SUPPORTERS.

Suzuran - 6* Decel Binder. The moral of Arknights is that children make excellent soldiers, and Suzuran proves this. Her two Talents are really good, as she serves as an incredibly potent SP accelerator for Supporters (+0.4 extra SP per second, so Supporters will charge 40% faster, herself included), and all enemies suffering from Slow (the actual status effect Slow, not the movement speed reduction effects one can find on Manticore or Chung the Hung, for example) in her range are also inflicted with 20% Fragile (so, they take 20% extra Phys, Arts and True damage from all sources). It doesn't have to be Slow inflicted by her, any Slow will do, so Angelina's S2 machinegun Slow will render an enemy vulnerable to an ass kicking quite effectively, as will Podenco's S2, and any source of Slow additional to Suzuran herself. S2 gives her an extra target on every attack, 2 extra targets with Masteries, alongside a minor Attack buff and, more importantly, infinite duration, meaning she can control more enemies at once and better prevent Slow Dilution (what I call when you Slow an enemy, then the next enemy passes them, making them the next target, and so on, diluting damage and clustering them; this isn't necessarily bad but it can be undesired depending on you strategy). Her spotlight stealer, however, is her S3, which expands her range, provides strong passive healing (so unhealables can be healed), doubles her Fragile Talent (40%), and Slows everything in range. Gnosis Fragile is bigger (50%) but he only maintains it in comparatively shorter bursts, Suzuran's S3 last 35 whopping seconds, and enemies that are Slow-immune are far fewer than Freeze-immune. This section is particularly big because, yeah, Suzuran just really does that much, she combos VERY well with other Supporters, can be slotted in any team, and just generally works, I'm not even a Suzuran fan, she's just that jacked.

Podenco - 4* Decel Binder, real name GODenco, also slots easily into any team, can switch to healing on her S1, or provide bursts of Silence, AoE Arts damage and Slow on good upkeep with her S2. She also provides a minor passive buff to other Supporters. If you need to Silence things, you think of the best Silencer, Lappland, but sometimes you need to Silence a LOT of things, enough that Lapp might get overwhelmed, well, that's when you use GODenco S2 and suddenly that entire cluster of 8 exploding spiders won't go boom no more. She's really good for Slow Dilution because of her single target into AoE skill, so she combos really good with AoE hitters like Artillerymen, Fortresses, Chain Casters, Qiu Bai S2, etc.

Shamare - 5* Hexer, a good execution support, as she applies 30% Fragile to enemies in range under 40% HP. Her main hat trick, however, is her S2, her signature Cursed Doll. At S2M3, the Cursed Doll, which you deploy on the field and it affects its tile and the 8 surrounding tiles, will provide an absolutely ungodly debuff of -50% ATK and DEF to all enemies in said range. One of the rare ATK% debuffs in the game, and in my opinion the best, it'll make even Gopnik hit like a wet noodle. What's more, since it's not an active skill, the moment you drop your Cursed Doll, Shamare will immediately begin charging the next one! With a charge of 30 and a doll timer of 15 seconds, her true charge time is 15 seconds. Basically, you can cycle 15 seconds of regular enemy stats and 15 seconds of halved enemy stats. This is legitimately insane. Since Shamare's stats are also unimportant, you can just leave her at E2Lv1 (unless you want her Module, which imo is not worth the lv2+ and I'd only get the lv1 if you really like her) so she can be a cheap and powerful investment.

U-Official - NUMERO UNO CAMPEAO DA PENTA

Quercus - 5* Abjurer. I'll keep it simple here: Her healing with Module is bonkers, and she provides Shelter (damage reduction%) to units in range above 70% HP, 60% with Module Lv3. S1 is her permanent Healer mode, toggable on a long cooldown, while S2 is her burst healing window skill, notable in that it provides SP to healed units throughout its duration. Quercus is sleeped upon, she's a REALLY strong Supporter that provides SP, healing and bulk.

Orchid - 3* Decel Binder. I include her here if you want to play Integrated Strategies, because she's always a good free pick there. She's the Slower that Slows.

Roberta - 4* Artificer. I include her here because my stream audience will disembowel me and chain my flayed corpse outside the Museum of Modern Arts if I don't, she's my meme unit. THOUGH, her Shield-providing, DEF enhancing tools can come in handy.

Valarqvin - 5* Ritualist. The IS4 free unit. Significantly stronger in IS4 due to built-in Necrosis Damage on autoattacks, but even outside of IS4, she can be useful for bursting or key enemy elimination with S2, as Necrosis is a strong effect with a built in, decaying ATK% debuff (again, rare) and unmitigated DoT (total of 12000 damage over 15 seconds, 800 dmg per second). Nothing so far in the game resists this, so go ham.

Angelina - 6* Decel Binder. Angelina's whole thing is that she's not a standout unit in any regard, but she can support practically every team, can so strong sustained damage and Slow against single targets with S2, strong multitarget Slow and reduced Weight for Shifting with S3, and passively increases party ASPD and gives them passive healing (works on unhealables). Angelina is kind of like a crowbar or a length of rope in that she's as useful as you can be creative with her, never as a stand out, but as a good brick in the overall house.

Ling - Limited 6* Summoner. Kind of an obligatory mention, but basically, God Mode. One of the gamebreakers, as she can produce 4-Block replenishable immensely powerful summons with multitarget equal to block, Arts damage, and damaging auras. Yeah. Even without that monster of an S3, she can sub Burst Damage and crowd control really well with S2. Her applications are insane, she's so strong that we can be here all day, so we won't do that, she's a very well documented unit.

Skadi the Corrupting Heart - Limited 6* Bard. Again, another well documented unit, but she can basically E3 your units with the sheer stat heft she provides through her S2 buff, can deploy an extension to this range with her Seaborn Summon, and if you really want to go ham, she can enter Microwave Mode with S3 so True Damage cook the shit out of anything, in addition to providing a really big Attack bonus to units in range while at it. Well documented unit so I'll keep it brief but yeah, godlike unit.

There's a few more, like Proviso and Scene, but that's enough for now. "Your forgot to mention--" I didn't forget, you do it.

I hope this helps, anon!

#arknights #supporters #dreamknights

[devnmon]

save who you can save // t.s.

A prequel to Long Long Time, detailing the first time the two met.

pairing: smuggler!reader x tess servopolous slowburn

Summary: One of your smuggling deals goes wrong– almost deathly wrong. A stranger decides you're worth saving.

word count: 12k

warnings: descriptions of several injuries, reader gets beaten up, non-sexual nudity, tw for random guys in the qz, physical assault, mentions of blood, death, drugs, and typical tlouverse violence... reader is mid 20's, tess is early 40's, tess gives reader stitches (but it's ok they're unconscious), mentions of tess's past, tess and joel aren't a thing in this, but he is an asshole for the better part of the fic [lowkey enemies to friends w/ joel]. pining (a lot of mutual pining oh my god guys.) also pls don't come at me for inaccurate qz stuff, this is fanfic. nonbinary pronouns used the reader is afab! also this fic starts in readers pov and ends in tess's and i just realized that so don't hate me for it! xx

a/n: happy valentines day GAY PEOPLE. this is for you guys. and all the tess fic lovers. here is my prequel of Long Long Time that i wrote a little over a year ago when tlou hbo came out. i pour my heart into each and every fic i write. this is my child, be kind with her. i hope you all enjoy and don't forget to reblog to support your favorite creators!!

That day she found you, beaten and bloody with several injuries, was the day she had quite genuinely saved your life.

You never should’ve made this deal. 

Becoming a smuggler required more skill, more cunning –more than you had. Somehow, you’ve ended up right where you never thought you’d be: on the sour end of an unstable client. 

You knew your stock wasn’t as satisfying as the client demanded, but the amount of ration cards seemed too good to be true. It happened to be– regrettably you’d been a fool to try and weasel out of the deal without repercussions. Nothing was ever that easy in this world. 

The first thing you felt was the end of a very sharp knife pressing into your back. Then you heard his voice in your ear, speaking punctually. 

“Where do you think you’re going? Nobody gets past me. Not even you. I let you think you’re good at sneaking around. But I see everything.” 

Your breath hitched as his grip pulled you backwards into the alley. Once you turned away from the main road, you were met with another man, one you knew accompanied another man you dealt with often. He was dressed the same, and had that classic sketchy-guy look that told you exactly who’d approached you this hostile. 

It was a particularly unstable client, one you hesitated to continue business with due to his poor self-control. He was a junkie through and through, just a man too weak to settle into this world, needing a constant escape. You had unfortunately promised him a supply you didn’t have, and things escalated too far soon after. 

There was no reason to call for help either; it would be that easy for him to rat you out to FEDRA for selling pills. Even if those same soldiers were frequent customers of yours. Your voice had gone hoarse and the cut on your lip swelled enough to make it hard to speak. 

You couldn’t decide what was worse, the fact that you never saw this coming, or that nobody would be coming to your rescue. 

Crack. 

Your shoulder was slammed into the wall with enough force that you toppled to the floor. Followed by multiple kicks to the stomach and sides, with not even a second’s notice. Your lunch felt closer to coming up with every rough kick of their boots into your torso. 

The amount of stock wasn’t nearly as close to what the client demanded, but his ration cards seemed too good to be true. To be fair, you weren’t cut out to be a smuggler; you were a fool to try and weasel out of the deal without repercussions. It was never that easy in this world. 

Your knuckles scraped against the blacktop like sandpaper while attempting to stand, painted crimson while your skin ripped. When your vision went double, then triple, squeezing your eyes shut alleviated the pain for just a moment. 

Other than the blood you felt gushing from your hands, the throbbing in your head and torso made it difficult to move without immense pain. Weakened by several blows to the stomach, your legs finally gave out. Your ankle twisted the wrong way as you fell, while your palm caught on a sharp piece of rock, scraping it enough to burn. You were damned if you tried to yell for help.

You huff a breath, before a sharp pain stopped you short, coughing up blood that pooled in your chest. On all fours like a dog you were, with the two men standing above you muttering to themselves. 

Mercy, they called this having mercy on you. 

Some form of laceration cut deep enough to drip red hot blood down your forehead, and there was no doubt you had several more covering your body by the way everything burned. It dripped down your face and made everything blurry. 

Coughing hoarsely, you somehow found the strength to pull yourself off from the prone position, finding a wall to sit up against. Each time you moved, it felt as if your body was getting ripped apart. Your bones felt like glass, your skin like paper. Blood gushed from a slash on your arm, and your stomach had taken one too many blows to pull yourself to your feet. 

How the fuck did this happen?

You had been traveling through the QZ during late afternoon, around the central hob of trading. In the midst of the zone's chaos, you ducked into an alley as a shortcut, which was your first mistake. Minutes later, you had been roughly attacked from behind, and thrown against the wall with one motion.

“You got our pills, bitch?” Two sets of feet pointed toward you while weakened. 

“I need more time,” you breathed, convincing yourself more so than the man in front of you, “My dealer’s stingy with his supply. I can get it out of him, though. Soon.”  Your arms raised at your sides, knowing how many people secretly carried knives around the QZ. There was no way you were taking that chance. 

A pair of hands grabbed the collar of your shirt, lifting you up so you could hear them clearly. 

“We want the rest of our pills. And a pack of cigs. End of the day tomorrow. Or you’re all the way dead. You hear me?” 

The other man approached, unsheathing his blade and immediately pressed it to your cheek, standing not even a foot from your body. His blade was forced onto your skin so hard that it drew blood, and you called out in pain. 

“End of day tomorrow. The usual spot.” The one holding your collar said pointedly. 

A fast nod of your head paired with the incessant throbbing of his words within your mind had you struggling to comprehend anything. He released your collar, which resulted in you toppling onto the ground once more. The blood you coughed up afterwards stained your shirt, wiping it away with the sleeve of your flannel. 

You’d survived the chaos of outbreak day, almost running yourself into the ground trying to escape everything. That was the day you knew this would be a life of running, until you arrived in Boston. 

You weren’t sure about the Quarantine Zone at first. But then you saw a bed and pillow to sleep on every night. No more camouflaging yourself in the backseat of a car or suffering drastic temperatures and hoping you wake up not frozen to death the next day. 

To be fair, you tried to sign up for work shifts, but manual labor was never for you– especially not when it was shoveling shit, or transferring corpses to burn in fire pits. That kind of work was not how you intended to live out the rest of your life. 

That was when you landed on smuggling, since people had to be desperate for some kind of relief after taking orders from soldier douchebags all day. You probably would’ve been better off in the academy, not taking shit from a weasel of a dealer whose name you forgot, but whose ponytail you remembered. You’d gone from risking your life every day in the open world, dodging the swarms of runners underground to being forced into risking your life trying to make the junkies and downright miserable people of the QZ happy. 

Now, you’ve accepted that you were going to slowly bleed to death in this alley. Part of you wanted to resist, but the idea of not having to deal with anything like this ever again. It would just be that much easier to close your eyes and succumb. 

You whimpered at the pain running through your leg, a patch of maroon seeping through your jeans. Too weak to put pressure on any of your own wounds, you let your eyes close in defeat. The voice at the back of your head protested, wanting you to get up and fight for your life. But you just couldn’t. 

Eventually the air got cooler which you noted meant the sun had gone down, and you were in and out of consciousness. Warily, you opened your one good eye, spotting the patch of blood that had spread further from the gash on your leg. The sight made you queasy, so you closed your eye again and went back to unconsciousness for a while. It was the lone way everything stopped hurting, and bliss once you floated into it. 

“Psst. You alive?” The words rang sharp in your head with an ache so bad you couldn’t focus. The nudge at your foot woke you a bit, pulling you to consciousness slightly. No reply earned you a slightly harder kick to the leg, which shot another stinging pain up your leg. You groaned and your body moved a bit. 

Is someone there? 

Footsteps crunched against the blacktop, getting slightly louder. 

Fuck, please don’t hurt me, please, please.. 

“I’m just gonna check your pulse, so if you can hear me, don’t freak out.” Your head moved an inch weakly, unsure about this person being so close to you. A low groan of discomfort came from your chest, alerting the woman you were conscious. 

“Hey, hey. I’m not going to hurt you. Just needed to know if you were alive.” The voice was low, and it sounded feminine through the ringing in your ear. 

“H-help… me…” You managed to speak, your mouth and tongue tasting like iron. 

The woman went silent for a moment, taking a look over the state of your injuries. 

“You’re pretty fucked up, honey. God, what piece of shit did this to you?” She picked up on the multiple gashes on your body, staining your clothes, and your shoulder was visibly out of place. 

You decided to open your eyes to see who was crouched next to you. It was no use, your vision was still spinning from earlier. Sharp pains drummed against your head and obscured your ability to see. The one sole thing you could make out was someone with long, light colored hair and a dark pink shirt, but you kept looking around to see if your vision would come back. 

“Shit. I’ve gotta get you out of here. Just- just hold on. Name’s Tess, what’s yours?” You picked up on her moving about, unzipping what you assumed was her pack. 

You mumbled again, still unable to speak clearly. 

“Right, dumb question. So, I’ve gotta stop your bleeding, and your shoulder looks dislocated. I can only do one of those things right now, and then we can get you someplace safe. That means I’m gonna have to put pressure on your leg. Okay?” Her words came out matter-of-factly, and she seemed like a true survivor of this world. 

You begin to protest, moving slightly away from her and moaning with distrust. 

“Look, I promise, I will get you out of here. But I can’t have you leaving a blood trail through the streets. Alright?” She asked, and you hesitated for a moment, but nodded slightly. 

“Okay, this is going to hurt, but I need you to keep it quiet so it doesn’t attract soldiers. Can you do that?” 

Immediately, you shook your head no, and you heard the woman mumble to herself while she shuffled through her bag.

“Here, bite down on this. It’s a clean rag, and I promise that if you scream, it’ll be a hell of a lot quieter than if you didn’t have it.” She raised the rag up to your lips and waited for you to open your mouth. Somehow you trusted her to let her put it in. If this were some other old injury, you wouldn’t be giving an inch. But you happened to be on the brink of death right now, and you realized she’s probably saving your life. 

“I’m gonna put pressure on your cut now.” You heard her rearrange herself to be crouched over on the other side of you. With both her hands, she pressed down firmly on your wound. The stinging pain that died down earlier came right back when her hands made contact. She noticed your wound gushing through the first bandage in her hand. You groaned loudly into the cloth, grateful for its existence. 

“I know it hurts…” The woman spoke again, “Just hang in there. I’m gonna wrap your wound, and then once we’re safe, I can stitch it up.” 

You begin to protest, borderline trusting the woman in front of you. Then you realized, she was the only one here. 

"Look, I need to get you out of here. Need to get us out of here. Soldiers are gonna be swarming the streets all night, and it's almost sundown. I can take you to my place, and I’ll have a better chance to take care of you there. I know you probably don’t trust me, but it's the least I can do."

Considering the current situation, you didn’t have much of a choice. 

“Do what you… h-have to..” you muttered weakly. 

The pressure on your wound had lightened, while one of her hands rested on it as she used the other to grab for her bag again. She met your eye level for a moment, glancing up to survey your state. She went back to wrap some gauze around your thigh, tying it tighter than you would’ve liked, even though you knew it would help your wound begin to heal. 

“Okay, I think the bleeding stopped. You poor thing, let’s get you out of here.” You watched her zip up her pack and shrug it onto her back, while grabbing yours with her other hand. 

“It’s probably gonna hurt a lot if you try to stand, but we gotta get you up one way or another.” You felt her at your side, slipping your left arm around her shoulder. She had already noticed the sharp inhales you were taking upon moving from your spot. 

“Here, lean on me. I’ll carry you. Just keep breathing, honey.” 

The minute she began to lift you was when you knew something was really wrong with your other arm. It tingled all over and your shoulder ached something awful. 

“‘M t-tryin’– it hurts…” had been uttered under your breath with another whine of sharp pain as your body moved with hers. 

“I know. Shhh, Shh. Hey, Just put one foot in front of the other. You’ve got this.” Something about her voice was calming you, and it almost made up for all the pain. The two of you begin walking, slowly at first, testing out your strength for the journey. It took a minute of tripping over your own feet to steady yourself. 

“Promise we’re gonna get you fixed up, brand new.” She muttered under her breath, low enough so other people nearby didn’t hear. 

Somehow her words kept you going, limp after limp. Tess made sure you knew when you had to take a step up or down, and kept you going the whole time. 

“Yeah, you got it. We’re halfway there. Keep it up, doin’ great.” Her words reverberated in your head with an echo. You couldn’t see where you were stepping for the majority, but you trusted her to guide you. Another few minutes of walking had your body much more worn out than normal. Once she stopped at the side of a building, her arm went to push the door open.

“Here we are.” Tess kicked it shut behind you two, and balanced you against her body. The interior was warm on your skin, but somehow your body still shivered to its core. Inside, you could hear people shifting around, but the sounds blended together amongst your attempt to stay upright. 

“I’m s-so cold…” 

The strength in your body was draining with every step you took; you were ready to collapse. 

“I know, but you gotta keep your eyes open a little longer. We need to get you up these stairs. Then we’re home free.” 

You didn’t protest as she brought you closer, inching up each step carefully in order to not strain yourself. Your legs ached with every step, persevering to make it all the way.

The last step up the top stair drained the last of your stamina, evident by the way your fingers throbbed with each beat of your heart. You were out of it more intensely than when you had been outside. Your whole body was sensitive with some form of pain you couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Tess led you down the short hallway, stopping in front of her door. She fumbled with her keys, although the jingling chain sounded more like glass breaking in your head. The door flew open, and she brought you inside, tossing your pack to the side while tossing her keys in another direction. 

“Alright, let’s set you down on the couch. Should be more comfortable than the damn ground.” Tess scoffed as she brought you over, keeping an eye on your limp. She turned you to the right, your bad arm on the outside of the couch as you were lowered down onto the cushions. When your feet were finally off the ground and your back rested against the pillows, it made a world of a difference. 

“Fuck… I’m so tired. Everything hurts.” You stifled a groan, but Tess saw how much pain you were in. Your eyes scrunched together every time you tried to move and there were multiple patches of blood seeping through your shirt. 

“I know. But I can’t leave your shoulder the way it is.” 

“My shoulder?” You hadn’t the slightest idea what she was talking about, your arms felt fine. 

No, it’s definitely the shock you’re in. 

“It’s dislocated. Pretty swollen already, you must be in shock. And I already told you that I’d have to pop it back in. Before we left, you don’t remember?” 

“No…” You mumbled, trying to recall; your memory was so groggy; you couldn’t remember half the day. 

“Shit, you probably have a concussion too.” Tess reached to the back of her jeans, pulling out the same rag as before. “But I’ve gotta set your shoulder before it’s permanently damaged. It’s probably been way too long already.” 

“How d’you know all this? Were you a doctor or something? Before?” Tess turned to face you, and you were able to focus on the features of her face for a moment. Her eyes were a light hazel color, and you could see little strands of grey peeking through her light brown hair. 

“Or something… I did a lot to survive after the outbreak. Learned a lot more to survive the hard times.” Her words trailed off, and she went to grab something from another part of the room. Tess had collected an old shirt of hers, and came back over to you. 

“Okay, so… I’m not good with pain clearly. Hope you still have that rag. Cause I’m gonna yell… or pass out. Either way, it’s gonna hurt a shit ton, and I’m gonna need it.” 

Without a doubt, Tess pulled the rag from her back pocket for you. 

“Got it right here. Kept it out of my pack cause I knew you’d need it again. This is gonna hurt a lot more than just some pressure on your cut.” She began tying the t-shirt together in a specific way, but you weren’t sure what she was doing with it. 

“Shit. I know… I know. Just do it.” You groaned, feeling a slight tingling sensation in your left hand shooting upwards to your shoulder. 

Tess set the now tied shirt onto the floor, as she kneeled down next to you. With one hand, she held the rag up to your mouth, and you bit down on it. Among the various other pains in your body, your shoulder was the worst of all. Taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself enough, Tess met your eye once she had leaned down in front of you. 

“Ready?”

Wordlessly, you nodded your head. You were trying to keep calm, but the shock was wearing off and your pain came flooding back. One of Tess’s hands grasped your forearm, though you could barely feel her grip. 

“Okay. One, two…” 

Crack went your shoulder back into its socket with one swift motion. Just as she thought, you went groaning into the rag once again. Tess took her hands away and grabbed the makeshift sling she had tied together earlier. 

“Does that feel better?” She asked, watching you spit out the rag. You took another deep breath in and out, surveying the current feeling in your arm. 

“Yeah.” You weren’t sure if you believed it yourself, but for now you decided to. “Pain’s still there, but it definitely feels different. Better than before.”

“Good. Here, you’ve gotta wear your arm in this sling while it heals.” Tess lifted the tied up sling over your head, and it slipped on easily on once she had it situated the right way. 

“Could I get those pills now? The idea of any kind of grace from the amount of pain I was just in sounds like a dream.” You tried to laugh, but a cough came up instead. 

“Yeah. I’ve got Oxy, Hydro, Morphine…” She trailed off, not even knowing if you knew what she was talking about. 

“Honestly, whatever you think will be best. I honestly don’t know anything about dosages very well, and I trust you. Besides, I just wanna knock out for the night. I’m fucking exhausted.” Your words slurred a bit, due to your swollen lip, but Tess heard you well enough. 

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” 

Instead of trying to keep your eyes open, you shut them again in an attempt to alleviate the pain in your head, but it pounded nonstop. You listened to Tess’s boots on the wooden floor walking around to ground yourself. A couple minutes later, she returned to where you lay on the couch. 

You peeked your eyes open, and she’d crouched down with two pills in one hand and a cup of water in the other. 

“Got you water to wash it down with, if you want.” Her cupped hand held two of the white pills and you raised your good arm to grab them. Patient as she was, you moved slowly. 

There was no indication of any burdensome look on her face, which was odd– no one had ever been this kind to you before. You didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Slipping the pills between your lips, you grabbed for the cup of water. It began to slip out of your hand the minute Tess loosened her grip.

“Here, let me. You’re gonna be really weak for a while, so just close your eyes and relax.” She said, to which she brought the cup to your lips with no hesitation. 

“Now, while those pills kick in, I’ll see what I can do for your gashes and other injuries. All I want you to focus on is getting some sleep. You’re safe. I promise.” She touched your hand softly, then stood up and walked off to leave you space to rest. 

Once you closed your eyes, you felt the exhaustion wash over you, though it finally felt good to rest again. A few minutes passed, and the groggy effect of the pills began to set in. You were out in no time. 

In the meantime, Tess darted back and forth gathering supplies to fix you up; she’d sterilized a needle and thread to stitch up your leg, and took the last of her ace bandages out from her pack to use for your ankle. She grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the countertop, and brought what she needed over to you, couchside. 

Before Tess took the needle and thread between her fingers, she cut away the area of denim that was ripped from your gash.

“Sorry, kid. I’ll get you some new pants.” To be fair, those jeans of yours were filthy with dirt and muck stains you’d never be able to wash out. Not to mention the blood that spread had well enough to become a large patch. She attempted to wipe up the dried viscera around your cut best she could, dabbing with the alcohol lightly to sanitize it. She’d counted on you being unconscious from the pills to start stitching up your gash. Hands steady, she looped the needle and thread through your cut, pulling it closed with each tie. 

Though it wasn’t the most ideal situation for something like this, Tess had the experience. Stitching up cut after cut on the road for god knows how long, trying to keep moving forward, but somehow someone always got hurt. People kept dying, or turning– and that wasn’t even the worst part. Upon making it to Boston, she learned what it was to be calm under situations like this. To become cold. It got the best of her, more often than not; any idea of the old her was lost to dreams of the world before. She never looked back, never slowed down, never took even a moment for herself. Her routine was based strictly around finding the best way to get by in the QZ. The constant eye of FEDRA’s guards and firefly bombings were enough, let alone the mile-long lines for rations that were barely ever in. It was too much to subject herself to being controlled by an invasive military, especially after all she’d done to survive. Each person Tess left behind etched a sliver of her humanity off, chipping away the heartfulness she once carried with pride. 

Save who you can save, the last words whispered to her by someone that sacrificed themselves so she could make it to Boston. Everything blurred together sometime after getting admitted into the city; by then, she’d worn down that kind version of herself into the ground. Possibly that same place where she heard those words before. Quickly, she gained a reputation with Joel by her side in the smuggling business of the zone. It paid well– better than hard labor all day for a cruel amount of flimsy ration cards, just to repeat the same thing over the next day. There was a respectable line Tess drew between the things she’d done in the name of survival, and things she strongly disliked doing. 

Tess’s time in the QZ had only reinforced that rigid outer shell of hers, confident the softer, weaker person inside her was left behind for good.

She’d almost made it through the day without finding any trouble, but her path through the streets was detoured by FEDRA vehicles and it happened to be the quickest route back to her place. Tess’s steps were quick, aiming to make a b-line straight back. 

Then her eyes caught the image of your thoroughly beaten self, and attempted to shut down the itch in the back of her throat she couldn’t quite scratch. 

Just keep walking, she’d told herself. But her subconscious knew better. Then those words echoed lightly through her head. 

Tess, save who you can save…

“Shit…” 

She thought she’d forgotten them all. But time never does. Those poor souls lost to hordes of runners, clickers, stalkers– each one shoved down so deep inside, and the outside shell of her was simple glass. 

Keep walking, just keep walking…. No–

She truly tried to keep going, but each step gnawed into her further. Remembrance of the ones she’d lost shattered the glass holding her back, and glued her feet to the ground in place. A quick curse had Tess looking back over her right shoulder, catching a glimpse of your unmoving body. She’d figured if this were a trap, others would’ve already surrounded her. 

A deep sigh came from her exhale of a tightly held breath; her heart pounding against the inside of her chest, as if something about to burst. Any second thought of moving further had vanished, her feet pivoting against the concrete, toward the stagnant body lying soundless against the brick wall. 

Darkness swallowed every corner of that alley; Tess was fortunate to even have seen you at all. 

It wasn’t often she found herself stopping for anyone that needed help, let alone in the QZ. Underneath the swollen and crimson stained injuries, she saw a young individual subdued and unconscious from their injuries. That was the moment she’d called out to you. 

Tess shook those pre-Boston nightmares from her mind, putting all of her focus onto fixing up your ankle. With the discoloration of bruises that covered your ankle, it baffled her how you were even able to trek as far as you had gone. Her eyebrows furrowed relentlessly, each one of your injuries more surprising than the last. 

“Jesus, kid. What the hell did you get yourself into?” She muttered to herself, before grabbing the roll of bandages from her pack. Tess was so focused on getting your ankle wrapped, that she hadn’t heard the creak of the wooden floor from behind her. 

“Tess… what’re you doin’?” 

Unbothered by the voice, her hands kept working. Though, she knew she’d woken her roommate from his slumber. Joel Miller hadn’t thought this was what he’d be seeing at almost two in the morning. 

“Wrapping an ankle, the hell do you think I’m doing?” 

“Tess. who the fuck is this?” By the tone of his voice, she knew he was pissed. She dare not poke the bear this late. 

“It’s uh… well, no. I don’t know. They couldn’t speak when I found them.” She’d finished securing the bandage around your ankle, and placed it back down on the couch.

“Do you even know their name?” Joel stepped towards Tess, his brow furrowed. 

“Joel… they were lying beat up and bloody in an alley. I wasn’t gonna take the chance and leave them there to die.” She reached for the other pillow on the couch, and placed it delicately for your ankle to rest on. 

“Well, did you even check their pack for weapons?” 

Tess huffed a breath, and stood up straight, turning to the man. 

“I was a little preoccupied making sure they weren’t bleeding out. Besides, they didn’t have any on their body. But if you insist…”

She took the moment now to move towards your pack she’d thrown into a corner earlier, taking out a notebook, some ration cards, and a couple bags of pills. 

“What the fuck? Tess, this could be a setup.” Joel muttered, the tone of his voice unsettled by the situation. 

“What? No. No fucking way, Joel. I’m telling you, they would’ve died out there if it wasn’t for me.” 

“You’ve gotta stop tryin’ to save people that ain’t worth it. That’s how we’re still alive, why we’re here and the dead ain’t.” 

“No, I don’t believe you. They’re unconscious and didn’t even see you, by the way. I think you’re fine.” Tess shook her head while she spoke. 

“Well, it’s our business that goes to shit if you’re wrong.” Joel spat, beginning to walk back to his door. 

“I don’t really give a shit. Not tonight. What I do care about is making sure this person stays alive. I couldn’t care less about distributing pills to junkies.” 

She did care about the smuggling, just not as much as she did about keeping you alive for the night. 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

His door shut and locked, leaving Tess alone with you for the night. She collected herself after that conversation, preparing anything she might need throughout the night to treat you. Just in case. 

Her muscles finally relaxed the minute she’d sat down in a chair adjacent to her couch. While she draped a blanket over her legs, Tess took one last look at you, studying your rising chest and calm features. 

You’re gonna be alright. 

Beams of sunlight painted the walls with a glowing warmth, cast across the older woman’s skin. Morning broke early, waking Tess before either of the habitants that resided in the Boston apartment. She’d always been a light sleeper, despite that it was loud most hours in the walls of the QZ. Living in Detroit her whole life had certainly accustomed her to it. 

Her hazel eyes opened against the light, finding themselves staring upwards at the ceiling. Tess had woken up several times throughout the night, which had become a normal occurrence for her. Events from last night flashed through her mind as she rose from her slumber. Her slumped position resulted with an uncomfortable spot in her neck from the chair she’d been in all night. Tess sat up as best she could, grasping the nape of her neck for comfort. No matter how many times she tried to get rid of the pain, nothing relieved her. Defeated by the lack of sleep, she rose from the chair and looked over at you still asleep on the couch. 

Rays of sunlight happened to catch right over your face, peeking through the blinds as they awoke you from rest. Yesterday had become a blur quicker than light. 

Where am I? What happened to me? It hurts everywhere…

You shifted lightly with a groan, eyes still closed. A headache pinged at the sides of your temples, and you took a sharp breath out of reflex. You weren’t able to move your body freely; exhaustion had drained you enough. Out of the blue, you heard a female voice echoing in your ears. Your one good eye opened, and it took a minute to adjust to the light, along with any blurriness. 

“Hey, you with me?” Her voice called out to you, unintelligible at first, but once you focused on the words more, you understood. 

“Where… where am I?” You mumbled, attempting to lift yourself up. You didn’t know what was worse; not knowing where you were, or not being able to lift your body normally. 

“Don’t try to sit up. You’re safe, but you’re too weak to sit up right now. I saved you last night, patched you up. Remember? My name’s Tess.” 

“Not really…” you sighed, accepting your weakened state. 

Tess knew it would take more than just one night to gain your trust; she also knew Joel wouldn’t be as patient. She crouched down by the side of the couch where you were, getting closer to make sure you heard her. 

“So, I pulled you out of that alley last night, patched you up and kept you safe the past twelve hours. I think that warrants me your name.” 

Your eyes glanced over her figure, the image of Tess still fuzzy. Considering all the factors, and the fact that you were still alive, you gave in and told her your name. Tess nodded contently and spoke again.

“Well, you probably have a concussion. But I cleaned and bandaged up everything else I could. Your left arm was dislocated, but I popped it back in last night. That’s why it’s in the sling. Don’t try to move it much, it’ll take a while to heal. As for your ankle, it’s twisted pretty bad. Bruised, too. You’re gonna be off your feet for a while.” Surveying the bumps and bruises you’d received, she set other supplies to the side on the floor.

You glanced down at your body, pulling back the blanket over your legs to find your stained jeans and the stitched up gash, with other bandaging around your ankle. 

“You saved me? And bandaged me up?” You speak clearly for the first time, and Tess stopped in her movement. 

“Yeah. You’re lucky to be alive. I wasn’t gonna let you die out there.” 

“What..” you swallowed, “What happened to me?” 

“From the looks of it, you were on the bad side of a shitty deal gone wrong. Like I said, you’re lucky to be alive.” Her tone was calm, and impressive to see in a situation that was anything but. 

“You went through my pack?” 

“I found you in an alley. Almost dead. Can you blame me?” 

“Guess not…” you said, sighing and trying to sit up. With one arm in a sling, you were having trouble moving without anything hurting. The pills were wearing off little by little as time passed. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that. You’re gonna be couch bound for a while.” 

“What? No way. I need to… I have business and shit I need to get done–” 

“Don’t play coy. We know you’re a smuggler.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, pacing in small circles. 

“Well, you went through my bag. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. Wait, did you say we?” 

Before Tess could respond, a gray haired man emerged from behind her, jutting into the conversation. 

“You’re real cocky for someone that almost ended up dead from one of your clients. For all I know, this whole thing is a setup for you to rob us, kill us, or somethin’ else. But I ain’t gonna take that chance. Not now, not ever. Are we clear?” His southern accent came out as he spoke, and it wasn’t often you heard a voice like his among the Boston streets. It was intimidating enough; you didn’t trust him. 

“Yeah– okay, dude. Jesus, I don’t even know who you are. I didn’t know you guys were smugglers!” your voice strained while you lift your arm to gesture. 

“Joel, I was the one that brought them here. Like you said, this is on me. And I’ve got it. Walk it off, Texas.” 

The man named Joel walked backwards, dark eyes trained on you until the moment he turned around and left. He shut the front door in haste. 

“Is he always that tense?” You ask, taking a deep breath. 

“No. It’s not every day I bring anyone back to this apartment. Let alone someone who looked half dead, like yourself. No offense.” 

“Yeah… Why did you save me, by the way? You could’ve just left me there. But you didn’t.” 

“I told you… I wasn’t going to let you die. I thought you were dead at first, but I took the chance and saved your damn life. Is that what you wanna hear?” Your vision was still a little blurry, but you could focus on the woman’s features much more easily up close. You finally made out the face of your savior, Tess was a woman with light brown hair, longer than her shoulders but not too long. Her eyes were green, and there were lines on her face from time passing. With her stern voice, you wouldn’t know her face would look as calm. 

“Well, thank you.” You admitted, half ashamed you even thought about staying there to die in the first place. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Just as the silence settled, your body became aware of every injury you’d received. A sound of discomfort slipped past your lips, furrowing your eyebrows together. 

“Are you in pain? What hurts?” Tess began looking over the stitches she’d done the night before. 

With a groan, you replied, “Everything…” 

“Alright, I can give you a couple more pills for the pain. Uh wait– do you need to use the bathroom? I assume it’s been a while…” 

“Oh, yeah. I think in my near death I’d been.. You know, going without the ability to control it.” 

“Right… Well, I can get you a clean pair of clothes, but it won’t do any good if you’re wearing your own body fluids. Do you– would you like a bath?” 

Immediately insecure, you realized how filthy you must’ve become, spending most of yesterday soaked in your own blood and urine. Quickly, you nodded while looking down, shame washing over you. 

“Okay, Joel’s not gonna be back for a few hours. I can spare you some new clothes and underwear, but your boots I can just clean off later. I’ll re-wrap your injuries after, too. For now, we’ve gotta get you cleaned up.” 

She lifted you from the couch dutifully and slung you over her shoulder to head towards the bathroom. Tess recognized your sounds of discomfort, a string of sharp breaths and muffled groans you thought she didn’t hear. 

“Almost there. Here we go.” Her hip pushed the door open, sitting you on the chair next to the tub. Once the water was on and flowing, Tess found the right temperature and began filling the tub. She made her way back to you, and began to untie your boots, placing them off to the side. She took off your button down shirt, which revealed more black and blue bruising across your back and shoulder. You hissed a breath as she pulled the sleeve down off your left arm. Before moving further, Tess looked toward you with kind eyes. 

“It’s okay. Don’t feel ashamed. It’s just hard now. But you’ll be alright… Can I continue?” Her hand rested on your good shoulder patiently. You nodded silently, realizing the intimacy of the situation and looked down at the floor. 

Slowly, cautiously, and gently, she undressed you while the tub filled beside you both. Not only was your body covered in bruises and scrapes, but dried blood and other viscera had caked on a few layers. The bandages from last night were discarded to the side, fresh ones in the other room for when you were clean. She saw your reaction as you entered the water, your face contorted in both pain and pleasure while you sat. The warmth of the liquid against your torso was another level of soothing, flooding your skin with goosebumps and washing off some of the dried blood upon submerging yourself into the tub. Tess grabbed a washcloth and bar of soap, lathering it up before wiping it across your back. 

“I don’t know how to thank you. This is…” 

“You don’t have to say anything. And you don’t have to thank me. Please– please don’t thank me.” Tess knew this wouldn’t make up for the numerous people she’d left behind– left to die so she could persevere ahead. But all she had to do was goddamn try. 

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, sighing while she kept cleaning off your body. Her hands were soft against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Though she was doing something as intimate as washing you, it didn’t bother you as much as it would have on any other occasion. She carefully avoided running over your scrapes and other open wounds, yet still washing them lightly with the soap and water. Before long, the water had become a dark brown color from how much had washed off of you. Tess began to drain the tub, keeping the faucet running as it drained. 

“Mind if I wash your hair?” 

It was just a simple question, but it sparked your anxiety a bit more than when she undressed you earlier. 

“Uh.. sure.” 

Tess washed out the tub with a bucket while you sat in it. She lathered some shampoo between her palms, rubbing it across your scalp with gentle fingers. 

You couldn’t deny, Tess’s hands were calloused and rough, but they felt like heaven against your scalp. Rubbing the pads of her fingers into your head was somehow better than all the times you’d done it yourself. Eyebrows furrowed against the sensation, and you groaned lowly. You somehow alerted Tess, wondering if she’d pressed too firmly on your head. 

“What happened? Does it hurt? Sorry if I’m going too hard–”

“No, it’s great. Keep going.” You breathed. 

“Okay..” she chuckled a bit before continuing, then used the bucket to wash the rest out from your locks before applying conditioner. One of her hands grabbed the brush on the floor, slowly untangling the mess of knots in your hair. The warm water calmed you like nothing you’d experienced before, at least not since after the world fell. Appreciation flowed through you, and the comfortable silence reinforced that all the more. It was a safe feeling, one you shared with this kind, and beautiful woman. She’d washed the leftover soap and conditioner off your body, and began to towel dry your skin in a gentle manner. 

“Here, wrap yourself in this. I’ll be right back with the clothes.” Quick footsteps brought her to the pile of clothes she’d attained over the months on the run. She’d returned to the bathroom with a few things in hand, and approached you. Carefully, she stood you from the tub and stepped back onto the floor while wiping the remaining water droplets off your back. 

“Thanks..” you shivered a bit against the cold air, wanting to be clothed and back under the thick blanket. The socks she slipped over your feet helped warm you, while carefully slipping on the rest of her clothes. Tess even brought a spare sports bra for you to borrow for the time being. Something about the way she moved so calmly, spoke with such a soothing voice that made this whole situation seem lighter. On any other day, you’d be stressing about finding the right pills for a client or risking your life outside the walls. Her soft movements sparked something inside you with a new kind of warmth, and it almost atoned for everything you’d been through the past 12 hours. 

Once you were dressed, Tess towel dried your hair and began to tie up another sling for your arm. 

“When you’re back on the couch, I’m gonna put some ice on your ankle. It’ll help with the swelling and probably some of the pain.” You nodded silently, taken back constantly by her kindness. 

“If you’re in pain, I could give you another dose of pain meds. But it depends on if you want to eat something beforehand. It’s been since yesterday since you ate anything, probably for the both of us. I can fix you something to eat, though.” 

“Oh, uh, sure.” You weren’t completely sure what you were doing here still, your mind foggy from the night before. The way your injuries burned and ached against one another had you aching for some kind of relief– any kind at this point. How you got yourself here, you weren’t sure of either. 

Not much later, Tess came over with something suitable for you to eat, before giving you a couple more pills for the pain. Again you fell drowsy from the pain medication, resting the day away. With you resting calmly on the couch, Tess did her best to stay awake until Joel returned, running on less than five hours of sleep. It felt like ages before he came through the apartment door once again. 

“Hey, can you… keep an eye on them, please… I barely got any shuteye last night.” 

“I just got back–” 

“Joel, please.”

“Fine.” 

“Don’t hurt them, Miller. Seriously. Or I’ll hurt you.” She mumbled under her breath, trudging to the door. 

“I’ve got it. Just go.” 

With that, Tess collapsed on her mattress, not even bothering to pull the sheet over her, before drifting off to sleep the minute her eyelids fluttered shut. 

On the couch, you woke to a silent morning; no movement could be heard amongst the apartment. Your eyelids fluttered open, turning your head to look for Tess; instead you were met with the dark eyes of Joel Miller. His figure sat across from you, adjusting the gun in his hand so you could see it well. 

“You try anything funny, you get a bullet.” Joel raised his hand to gesture with the weapon. He noticed the bags under your eyes were dark and sunken in, making you appear more dead than alive at the moment, despite all the bandages. 

“You wouldn’t shoot me here. It’d be too loud and soldiers would be here quicker than light.” You rasped, coughing lightly from your dry throat. 

“Wanna bet?” He leaned in with a menacing glare. You kept eye contact with him as he began to stand, the intimidation not making a dent in you. It was enough to make Joel second guess his opinion of you for a moment. 

“Joel, stand down.” Tess called from the other side of the room. You called her name from the couch, and she quickly replied. 

“I’m here. Do you need anything?” She came into eyesight now, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and casually wearing a sweatshirt. Tess gave Joel a look, motioning for him to leave the room. 

“Yeah. I need to get out of here and home.” Your eyes watched the older man get up, watching as Tess approached, “My client’s probably freaking the fuck out and wreaking havoc across the QZ looking for me.” 

“About that…” She strolled over to where you were, taking a seat, “You need to tell me who did this to you.”

“What? N-No… I can’t. He’s my client. I can deal with him.” You shot up in your seat, groaning slightly. 

“Oh right. Like that worked out so well last time?” Joel spoke, walking away. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at what Tess was suggesting.

“Trust me, kid. You’ll thank me later.” She added. 

“I’m already thanking you later. I’ll probably be owing you for the rest of my life.” 

“No, kid–” 

“Don’t call me kid. I’m grown. I can take care of myself.” 

“Okay, you’re gonna have to prove it, then. You still need time to heal.” Tess insisted you lay down again, but her words flew in one ear and out the other.

“I need to not be couch bound and sleeping through the day! I need to have a life, some kind of life in this shit hole of a city! Don’t you get it?” Your voice was rising, straining against the irritation. 

“I do, trust me. I do. It’s why we got into that business, too. But hun, you didn’t deserve what happened to you. I hope you know that. Now, I’d like to know…” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to look you in the eye. 

“Let it go. It doesn’t matter!” 

“Yes it does. Who did this to you?” Her voice spoke pointedly, holding strong eye contact with you. Your eyes closed for a second, throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“His info is on the third page in my notebook. You’ll know it’s him cause his orders take up almost the whole fucking page.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as Tess stepped toward your pack, rummaging through it until she found the notepad. Pocketing it, she walked over to Joel’s door, ajar, and spoke. 

“Texas, make our guest something to eat. I have some business to attend to.” She turned toward the door, exiting the apartment with your notebook in hand. 

“Wait, Tess!” 

Your voice fell on deaf ears; she was already down the hallway and gone. Once the man emerged from his bedroom, you shared a plain look as he made his way to the kitchen. Before reaching for the cupboard doors, he grabbed the bottle of amber liquor and poured some into a glass. 

“Pour me a glass of that, please.” 

“Are you even old enough?” 

“Are you kidding? I’m 25. Now can you pour me a damn drink already?” 

Silently, Joel rolled his eyes and poured some into a glass for you. It was his peace offering before he went back to find something for you to eat. You ended up sharing some soup and crackers with Joel for dinner, awaiting the older woman’s return afterwards.

An hour or two passed before Tess made her way back. You were resting on the couch when the door opened. She took a sharp breath in upon entering, and let the door slam behind her louder than usual. It gained your attention and Joel’s, looking toward the door. You heard her hiss a breath, while she shook out her fist. 

“Shit, Tess. What did you do?” She walked further into the apartment, the light glimmering against the fresh blood across her lip. 

“Took care of that client of yours.” She muffled a groan, stretching out her fist while her knuckles bled. 

“Did you kill him? The fuck–” You began to try and stand on your good foot, but stumbled before you could get any closer to her. 

“What? No, I didn’t kill him. Just taught him a lesson. That smug fucker. I don’t know why you did business with him. He’s a bad junkie. You never do business with a bad junkie.” She sat down near you again, noticing the empty whiskey glass nearby on the floor. 

“He was my most frequent customer. Shady as hell, if I’m honest, he kinda scared me. That’s how I knew it was him when I got attacked. 

“That’s naïve of you. Why would you ever do something that risky by yourself?” 

“I… didn’t have anyone else who was willing to risk their lives sneaking around the QZ. So I said fuck it.” 

“Well, I still think you’re a dumbass. You’re just lucky you’re staying out of the smuggling market for a while.” 

“No, I told you I can’t. I need to–” 

“You need to rest and heal. I swear to god, if I hear one more word about you getting on your feet before you’re a hundred percent, I swear I’ll chain you to the couch.” 

“Jesus, fine. I won’t go back out there. Throw my entire business away just to wait till these injuries kill me in the middle of the night, I guess.” 

“Hey, you’re gonna be fine. The only reason I’m being an asshole about this is because I want you to survive. I didn’t pull you off the street to let you go back to that shitty situation.” Her words were honest, even if you didn’t believe them. 

“Well, thanks. I guess.” 

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” She shrugged your thanks off and went about her business. 

The future weeks proved to be the longest haul you thought you’d ever been in. It consisted of a lot of reading, sleeping, and wishing you could be on your feet. You ended up asking Tess to take a trip to your place and retrieve some of your things; you were tired of having to put her out of her own clothes to wear. Plus it would just be more comfortable for you. Tess checked your injuries daily, reapplying bandages and cleaning on a steady schedule. She would not let you die from infections after doing all she could to save your life that night. 

The two older individuals went about their days more regularly once you were out of the woods with all of your injuries. Tess helped you to and from the table so you could join them for meals, otherwise spending the day rereading old books and magazines while trying to find other things to do than just sit around and rot. You were grateful for Tess saving your life, but this healing process was a bitch. 

 Standing wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be, especially having been off your feet for days on end. Much less the blood loss you’d experienced, it was humbling to not be able to get around on your own. Slowly as the first week passed, Tess helped you get back on your feet bit by bit. You had enough strength after another week to stand on your own.

One day, the smuggling duo was planning a run while surveying a map they’d drawn up. You nonchalantly watched, sitting in a chair neary. They hadn’t noticed you, until you mentioned a route they hadn’t heard of, and her attention turned to you, impressed with your knowledge and jotted the trail down for later. 

“Wait, question. Do you guys know Robert?” Your arms crossed over your chest. 

Both Joel and Tess turned towards you now, their eyes widened and faces grim. 

“Why?” Joel asked with a stern voice. 

“He’s one of the guys that uses that route. At least, his guys do. So be careful.” 

“You’re telling me you used to run with Robert?” 

“Only for a little. Seemed like he wanted more than just business… with me. But I got out of there before it was too late.” Tess scoffed, a smirk forming on her face. 

“Tell you what. You wanna keep smuggling, you join us when you’re fully healed.” 

Joel turned to her, but she shot him a look and turned back to the map silently. 

“You’re sure?” You asked, sitting up. 

“I’m sure. Not gonna let you put yourself in danger again when you could have us at your side.” She looked back down at the map and continued jotting in her notes. 

“Okay, cool.” You smiled to yourself, thinking Tess didn’t see, but she glanced up for a moment after she heard your words. She noticed the eagerness in your eyes and felt her heart skip a beat. 

So, it wasn’t all for nothing, you thought. 

You weren’t given a second chance to live just to lose what got you through the days and weeks on your own. This gave you another opportunity to survive with individuals by your side; you wouldn’t be alone anymore. 

Caring came far too easy for Tess. She'd seem cold on the outside, and sure, she was a reserved person. But to see you so overjoyed about being able to continue smuggling, she couldn’t help but have a little warm feeling in her chest. 

She thought the first time would be the only time a spark would flicker inside her. But then you were laughing at something idiotic one night, and she felt it again. The tensions between you and Joel had broken– finally. For the first time in a while, Tess saw multiple things looking up: you were recovering on a steady pace, and on an even better note, becoming a friend to her. She read you books, mostly classics from what she’d traded for. Ultimately grateful, you listened intently to every word she read, while trying to not fall asleep from her soothing voice. 

Under all the scratches and bruises, Tess saw your kindness and personality reveal with everyday that passed. She became privy to the way you saw the world with a gentle hand, reinforcing that spark in her chest. Yet that same spark came with guilt; she knew it wasn’t fair to fall for you after all you’d been through. She wasn’t sure if you’d ever trust someone like that again. So that spark was only kept as embers, in a lockbox on a very high, very dusty shelf in her mind. 

Another week of healing went by, and you were finally able to stop wearing your arm in a sling. You spent the day traveling back to your place to grab some things you’d need for the next few days. Tess insisted you stay in the apartment with her and Joel while you healed. You hadn’t been home since the day you were attacked, other than the days Tess was kind enough to retrieve some things for you. 

As of present day, you had gained the ability to walk on your ankle back after almost a month of being off it. The first thought in your head the morning of was that a trip outside the walls of the apartment. You also knew others might want to pay you a visit if you returned back by yourself, which is when you mentioned the idea to Tess. 

“Yeah, you’re definitely not going alone. I’ll come with. When do we leave?” 

“Right now.” You grinned at her with content before you went to grab your pack. 

The two of you flew down the steps and out the door, Tess following behind you with caution. Your first step into the outside air was something you missed within almost a month of being indoors. While it wasn’t exactly sunny, the cool air was refreshing against your skin and differed greatly from the apartment. 

“Don’t run off now.” the older woman muttered, shutting the door behind her. Just from the way you moved, Tess could tell you were in need of something like this. You looked around at the same old streets of the QZ like it was something completely new. She felt lucky to be the one seeing this part of you, the healed and healthy part. 

“C’mon, I’ll lead the way.” You turned back to her, noticing her hazel eyes trained in your direction, then shifted to the path in front of you. A few minutes of walking passed, and you’d picked up some pairs of eyes looking your way from people on the surrounding streets. It was more of a side eye glance than a stare, but still you noticed it. After being terrified to leave the four walls of the apartment, being perceived was a bit more intimidating than you thought it’d be. You slowed your steps, letting Tess catch up with you. 

“Um, Tess?” You mumbled, glancing back towards her. 

“What’s up?” 

“All these people keep staring...” 

Tess surveyed the area before noticing something you hadn’t, and she chuckled. 

“They’re not looking at you, they’re staring at me.” You did a quick glance back and forth, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure. Let’s keep going.” You turned back after nodding to her, hiding the tiny smile that snuck its way onto your lips. It was almost like walking with a scary dog at your side, except said scary dog was the taller woman trailing behind you. 

From the way multiple pairs of eyes shot in her direction, some glazed over, some didn’t notice as you passed by. Other pairs of eyes widened as they fell on the figure of the woman behind you. You don’t know how she’s done it, but Tess Servopolous has the Boston QZ wrapped around her finger. It seemed everyone–including Joel Miller himself– had themselves under her spell. They did whatever she wanted the moment she asked. There was no second guessing her, and when she said to do something, you were damn well to do it. You learned the hard way during your healing process, stubborn and complaining that you couldn’t get around on your own. 

One night when you were bickering, she’d tried to convince you that you weren’t ready to try and walk on your bad ankle yet. Stubborn and impatient, you kept talking back to her. 

“Don’t even try to get up.” 

You’d been overstressing yourself about getting back on your feet, so as to find another way to keep smuggling. 

“Watch me.” You had hoisted yourself off the couch halfway, then used the last of your stamina to pull yourself the rest of the way up. The first step you took was with your good foot, but the minute you stepped with the other, you groaned and stumbled from the pain, landing on the ground. 

“I told you…” Tess was at your side before you could attempt to move yourself back to the couch.

Gentle and slow, her hands around your body were familiar as if you’d known them to be the hands of a long time lover. They were just Tess’s hands, but to you, they couldn’t hurt or kill any more than they could wash over your injuries with a soft touch. When you got a better look at her for the first time, you saw the kindness in her eyes, and her heart in the actions she took towards you. 

Common human decency was to take care of someone injured or sick, but you felt something different in the way she tended to you. It was in the way she used her hand to lift up your chin to check how your cuts were healing. Especially when she inspected the one on your lip for a bit too long, claiming it was healing fast and that you shouldn’t try to open it again. All you could hear when she spoke was your own heart beating in your ears, lost in the hazel of her eyes. She’d even found you a cane, but you paid it no mind and kept letting her help you instead.

“I’d hate to feel like a burden…” 

“It’s alright, I don’t mind taking care of you.” A warmth flushed through your cheeks when her words hit your ears. 

You could tell somewhere deep down, Tess used to care for people as easy as breathing. From the way she knew so much about patching others up, she wanted to keep people going, no matter the circumstances, you knew she cared much more than she showed. 

Being on your feet again, outside those same bland apartment walls brought a new feeling you weren’t able to identify. It was different not walking alone for once in the streets, always having to glance over your shoulder just in case. Now when you looked over your shoulder, you saw Tess, and you hoped she’d stay in your life for longer than just when you were healing from your injuries. She meant too much to you to just forget about after she’d been by your side the whole time. 

The route to your apartment wasn’t far from where Tess lived, and you were there within no time. It was a bit overwhelming once you came up to the door, fidgeting with the keyring until it clicked into the lock. 

“Well, here we are.” You opened the door, stepping into the stale air of your place. Things were as you’d left them, with a few odds and ends out of order from when Tess had stopped by for some of your toiletries. All your knickknacks were scattered about, some across the countertops and any spare surface you could find. Some, if not most, were collected on the road, and others were from your home when you first fled. 

“Nice place you got here.” 

“You should know, being the only person to be here besides me in the past few weeks.” you chuckle, shoving your keys back in your jeans pocket. They actually happened to be Tess’s, but you couldn’t tell the difference anymore. She didn’t mind either.

She’d been contemplating a lot on the walk over, worried about what might happen when you were fully healed. Tess knew there was a problem when her heart warmed at the sight of you sleeping peacefully on the couch, then remembered what you’d been through and wanted to burn the whole QZ down. 

It was almost gone when you started to heal, until she couldn’t sleep thinking about what could happen to you when you went back out there. A wave of restlessness washed over her, and it’d been very hard to accept the fact that you could end up right back where she found you. 

“Guess you’re right.” Tess muttered, stepping into the cool air of the apartment. 

“I’ll be a minute, gonna grab some clothes and then we can head back.” You spoke, her eyes trailing down your back as you walked into the other room. Silently, she moved about the main room, her eyes catching all the different little objects around the space. Tess didn’t know how you had time to collect all these different things– from shells to rocks to other small toys and charms that lay about– there was no shortage of oddities. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of your open bedroom door. Timidly, she peeked inside to see you rustling through a few drawers and shoving clothes into a backpack. 

“Nice… room. Cozy.” You glanced up at her for a moment while folding the clothes to put in your bag. 

“Thanks, I tried to make it as home-y as possible. Makes up for the whole quarantine zone thing.” 

“I get it.” Tess chewed the inside of her lip nervously, stepping into the room slightly, leaning one of her arms against the doorframe.

“Do you? That place of yours is barely decorated.” You snarked, trying to cover up how aware you were of how domestic she looked standing in your bedroom doorway. She was perfect with the light beams of sunlight peeking over her shoulder. 

“Guess stuff like that doesn’t really matter to me.” 

But she wanted it to matter; she wanted it to matter to her so desperately. For you, she’d do anything– put up with whatever you threw at her, because she cared. There wasn’t a way to tell when Tess noticed this fire burning inside her, lit aflame by your out righteousness. 

She pined to see reminders of you every day when she wakes up. To see you when she opened her eyes in the morning. You’d simply been indented into her mind, and refused to give way. 

“Y’know, you’re still welcome at my place after you get back on your feet. Seriously. My place is yours.” Tess took a step into your room nervously. 

“Oh, well thanks. That means a lot. I mean… I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me. It’s not like we won’t see each other ever again. I’ll probably spend most nights at your place when we start working together.” 

I would never want to stop coming around you either way… 

On the instance of becoming friends with the woman who saved your life, it occurred to you quite rapidly that the feelings you had for her weren’t just appreciation. It shouldn’t have been that easy to realize you wanted her… to be entranced with her in a way so distracting. Some days you weren’t sure if you were actually feeling better on account of listening to every groove of her voice streak through your mind with no return. You could hardly believe she was standing in your apartment as of today, let alone sharing a space so intimate as your bedroom. 

“Besides… It's your apartment. You must both want your respective space back.” 

Tess sighed, masking the pit in her stomach when she thought about you on your own again. God forbid you ended up right where she found you; that would be a gut wrenching nightmare. It was already hard enough seeing you beaten up and barely hanging on to life. To even ponder the idea that it could happen again? She’d take absolutely no chances. 

Getting protective when you’ve known them for three weeks, Tess? Pretty weak to let someone in while you couldn’t protect the rest of them.

“Even when you do start working with us, you’ll be right between me and Joel. That way you’ll always have one of us on your six, watching your back. We’ll have your back.” She started with a small smile, while simultaneously ignoring the voice in her head. You met her eye and nodded with a smile, zipping your bag shut. 

“Very considerate of you, Tess. But if you don’t teach me how to hold my own, I’ll start practicing on Joel.” You slung your bag across your shoulder, watching as Tess followed you out. 

“Oh, I’ll definitely teach you. Joel will just have to be fine with being the dummy.” She followed with a chuckle, taking another look at the interior of your bedroom like she would never see it again. 

“Well, don’t worry. I’ll still be on your couch tonight.” You said, before walking out the door and locking it behind Tess. 

The only epiphany Tess had that day was that she never wanted you to leave. Never wanted to lose sight of you, never wanted to be without you, could never even imagine losing you. Tess had stuffed all those warm feelings down in a tight little box that sat on a dusty shelf in the back of her mind. When she would revisit the idea of actually having a chance with you, she was unsure. But she’d do her damndest in the meantime to shove away those pesky butterflies in her stomach. 

It would be a long, long time before she revisited that box again. 

a/n: i linked it at the top but i will link it here as well, this is a prequel to another one of my fics called long long time. You can find that fic here and all my other tess fics here!

#ryesff #devnmon writes #devnmonwrites #tess servopolous #tess tlou #tess tlou hbo #tess servopolous x reader #tess servopolous fanfiction #angst #theresa servopolous #theresa tess servopolous #tess x reader #tess the last of us #tess tlou fanfic #tess the last of us part 1 #wlw fanfic #wlw #wlw fanfiction #dividers by cafekitsune #dividers by saradika

[writing-with-emy]

My prompt-list #1

All my prompt lists in one place: 🪽🪽

#1 - "Is it still murder if I give them a heads up?" ; "That's called a threat." ; "Damn."

#2 - "Do you trust her?" ; "No.. but I trust her anger."

#3 - "We're lost." ; "No we aren't!" ; "Yes we are!" ; "No we aren't!" ; "Fine then - Mr./Ms. Navigator, where are we?" ; "Errr... uh, we are right here."

#4 - "I won't let you die." ; "I don't think that's how it works." ; "I am death, honey. I decide how it works."

#5 - Where is the Idiot, anyway?" ; "I'm right here." ; "Suprisingly enough, I'm not talking about you this time."

#6 - "How dare you! I... I trusted you! ; "Sweet, naive little girl/boy. Trust is for children. You, my dear, are a soldier."

#7 - "Your arm is bleeding." ; "Oh really? I hadn't noticed that half of my goddamned blood was flowing out of my arm, but thanks for letting me know."

#8 - "Are you sober?" ; "I'm moderately functional." ; "I'll take that as a no."

#9 - "What's our exit strategy?" ; "Our What?" ; "Oh my god, we're all going to die."

#10 - "Watch your mouth kid. You are one sentence away from starting a war."

#11 - "I- I can't stop it. I'm sorry..." ; "It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything. I've got you."

#12. - "Don't tell me you haven't noticed the way they watch you, how they whisper when you appear. They think you're going to save them."

#13 - "You give out pieces of yourself to people but you never let them see the whole picture. I've seen it. I know who you are."

#14 - "Did you really not see it? Or were you too afraid to look?"

#15 - "If you do that again, I'll throw you out that fucking window you- what are you doing?" ; "Checking how high the drop is, see if it's worth it."

#16 - "Why are you staring at me like that?" ; "I think I just... finally understood you."

#17 - "You know I'll win.' ; "And you know I'll fight."

#18 - "Hey! Watch it! You're scaring her!" ; "ME scaring HER!?"

#19 - "I don't like saying 'I told you so', but-" ; "The hell you don't, it's you favorite phrase."

#20 - "Just because you are speaking in a different language, doesn't mean that I don't know when you are cursing me out."

#21 - "Did you get my note?" ; "Of course I got it. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping."

#22 - "You say you were my family. But where were you when I was hurt, when I needed someone, when I needed you? You weren't here, but they were. Always."

#23 - "I think I actually hate you." ; "Yeah I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

#24 - "You look very nice tonight, I love your-" ; "What do you want?"

#25 - "There's no Happy Ending to this right?" ; "Not really, no."

#26 - "Let this be a dream, I can't take it if it's reality."

#27 - "How on earth do you open a girl's diary lock?" ; "Trust me I got this, I had sisters growing up."

#28 - "It's okay to cry." I held their face in my hands. "It's okay."

#29 - "It's a long Story' ; "You convinced me into thinking you were dead for eleven months. I have time."

#30 - "I feel like I'm being stabbed." ; "How do you even know what it feels like to be stabbed."

#31 - "You are the worst human being on the face of planet earth." ; "Aw, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

#32 - "You are all remarkably well behaved tonight... What did you do?"

#33 - "You're not my favorite person today." ; "I'm not your favorite Person on any day."

#34 - "Just take a deep breath or something!" ; "TAKE A DEEP BREATH!? It feels like my insides are being RIPPED OUT!"

#35 - "What kind of noise was that?" ; "I sneezed." ; "That was NOT a sneeze."

#36 - "I hate you." ; "Why? I'm lovely."

#37 - "Bring them home. All of them." ; "But-" ; "All. Of. Them."

#38 - "Who are we to each other?" ; "You tell me."

#39 - "If you're going to break my heart, can we do it outside?" ; "But it's raining." ; "That way I can go all-in on my melodramatic movie moment."

#40 - "I don't want to look like a princess, I want to look like a formerly evil queen who reluctantly redeemed herself for the side of good." ; "You read too much." ; "Damn right I do."

#41 - "Why are you doing that?" ; "Doing what?" ; "Treating me like a person."

#42 - "I didn't think you were the type to lose your sanity for a girl." ; "I didn't either."

#43 - "I thought you said you knew how to get inside!?" ; "Yeah, well, that was a lie."

#44 - "Hold on, you died." ; "Yeah, well it didn't stick."

#45 - "You don't scare me. Your anger scares me."

#46 - "Hey! Those are mine!" ; "Not anymore!"

#47 - "Are you there?" ; "Physically, yes. Mentally is debatable."

#48 - "I mean, yeah, I didn't need my heart anyway. Who cares if it breaks."

#49 - "We can't just steal it!" ; "Of course not! We'll just borrow it for a little while... while they aren't looking."

#50 - "I'm really nervous." ; "Why's that." ; "...I've never danced before."

#51 - "You love her don't you?" ; "Was it that obvious?"

#52 - "Ten years of friendship and this is the treatment I get." ; "I met you yesterday!"

#53 - "Can I keep it?" ; "No." ; Pleeease!" ; "...fine."

#54 - "I was just kind of hoping that you'd, y'know... fall in love with me."

#55 - "What are you doing up at four in the morning?" ; "I might ask you the same thing."

#56 - "Don't get up, I'm comfortable like this."

#57 - "Why are your hands purple?" ; "That's a very good question."

#58 - "So what's your plan?" ; "My plan was to follow your plan!"

#59 - "This is the worst plan ever." ; "Why? Because I made it?" ; "Yes."

#my prompts #fanfiction prompts #dialogue prompts #fic prompt #euphoria imagine #stranger things imagine #outer banks imagine

[cometcrystal]

schrucy + selected questions from that otp ask meme

1. Who wakes up first?

lucy for sure. she's an early bird. she willingly got up at 4am to skate w snoopy multiple times. schroeder sleeps tf IN

4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?

lucy watches television and schroeder prob plays piano. the3yre pretty independent activity-wise

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?

oh lucy for sure. it's her biggest hobby. she tries to get schroeder to blush instead of rolling his eyes. she has about a 10% success rate but when it lands it's well worth it

11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?

schroeder has a system for organizing his records and sheet music that lucy doesn't even attempt to understand

12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?

lucy for sure and she thinks she's being cute but it drives him nuts bc he's like "it's so obviously you, lucy"

14. Who’s prone to road rage?

lucy is prone to rage of every kind :)

18. Who gets the window seat?

schroeder likes the window seat better because staring out the window autism (tm) and lucy likes the aisle so she can stretch her elbows out

20. What do they argue about the most?

literally everything. once they mature, its mostly fake arguments, but literally everything. it's how they talk and communicate it's like breathing

23. Who is better with kids?

lucy surprisingly. schroeder just kinda doesn't know what to do with any child but his own son. meanwhile lucy talks to children the same way she would talk to an adult and it makes them feel respected so conversation is easy

24. Who’s the better cook?

they both kind of hate cooking and when they're rich and famous they have a chef. before that it's a lot of microwave food.

29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?

lucy says it's her god given right as God's cutest soldier to lick the spoon

32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

schroeder remembers lucy's order at the local hamburger joint one day and she melts and thinks it's the sweetest thing ever. he makes a point to remember as much as he can after that but he pretends like he doesn't

33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?

lucy likes one scoop of chocolate and one scoop of vanilla and schroeder doesn't like ice cream at all because it's too cold

34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?

only once they start going steady in high school, and really it's just a continuation of their normal hanging out dynamic. talking and arguing about random shit while theyre doing something else. lucy is like "we're on a date you're supposed to hold my hand" and schroeders like "doesn't it kind of ruin it if you have to tell me to do it. shouldn't it just happen naturally" and shes like "well i don't see you making any moves" he just legit didnt think about it any more than normal

36. Which one is the secret snuggler?

schroeder isn't big on pda but once they're dating he is SOOOO clingy and doting when they're by themselves. asking her to sit with him at his piano kissing the top of her head playing songs for her. lucy is pretty consistent with affection no matter where she is

38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?

schroeder Cannot Drive so he rides with lucy places and she tries to hold his hand and hes like FOCUS ON DRIVING. TEN AND TWO!!!

40. Who is the most affectionate?

like i said two questions back, lucy is consistent all the time, but schroeder has different levels of affection depending on the situation. lucy will hang off his arm both in the middle of walmart and at home but he refuses to play the song he wrote for her for literally anyone else bc its HERS not THEIRS

43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

there's a lot more smiling in between verbal barbs. just lots and lots of smiling

44. What are their nicknames for each other?

dear heart is lucy's pet name for schroeder from one of the funniest schrucy arcs in the strip. and schroeder calls her sweet baby when shes pretending to be asleep so he'll dote on her. it's an elaborate chess game of affection they play

48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

oh the MORNING after they start dating lucy is telling violet and patty a dramatized version of how they got together. schroeder doesn't think to bring it up to anyone unless they ask. charlie brown doesn't even realize it happened until after he has 2 classes with schroeder and they see lucy at lunch

#lucy x schroeder #schroeder x lucy #lucy van pelt #schroeder #schrucy #peanuts #happiness is a meta tag

[iridiss]

Does dante have a spouse after nana in your rewrite?

Short answer: No? Probably not. But I think he'd still stay close with Nichole, I kinda go into a lot of lengthy in-depth character and relationship analysis chewing on the idea under the cut

I don’t think so. I think if he did, it’d be Nichole, but only after years of communication and healing. They’re on good, friendly terms now, but I think there’d still be a lot of trust issues and pain left over from their break-up and the messy divorce situation as a whole that they’d have to work through before they’d consider trying again. But even then I feel like my version of Dante would struggle with a lot of self-worth issues, abandonment issues, childhood trauma, and guilt, enough that he wouldn’t let himself get close to Nichole, Kawaii~Chan, or anyone else in fear of messing it up. After losing his family, Aphmau, Garroth, Laurance, Aaron (those 4 due to their deaths + the Irene dimension + laurance's space-traveling disappearance), Nichole, and Kawaii~Chan, he feels like he can’t lose anyone else before breaking completely. Gene left some heavy scars

Though, I do want him to be happy, so I can see him settling down with either Nichole or another woman outside of PD in his 60s or so. It takes a while, but they end up working through it and retiring together. They likely move out of PD, get their own cabin, and live peacefully and quietly in the woods away from any wars or fighting, and Dimitri & Travis would visit frequently for tea and dinner

It’s a possibility, I don’t think it’s something I’m currently planning to explore in the fic though. I’d like to see Nichole and Dante work out their issues and find some contentment and happiness together, maybe they retire together. Or maybe Dante retires and Nichole gives Dimitri the role of Lord of Scaleswind but still continues her physical work by becoming a miner and a soldier The Phoenix Drop alliance can call in at any time to kick ass in battle, while Dante is pretty done with dealing w/ the horrors of war by age 68

Edit: Actually that gave me an idea, I think I’d end up going with that “Dante and Nichole retiring together” idea for the far-off post-ending content for my au, but their relationship is a little more convoluted than just “they get married and love each other and all is well.” As people (with these non-canon versions) Dante is a very cautious person and a coward at heart. He’s working on it, but he has a lot of guilt he’s grabbling with. By the time he’s in his 40s, he’s been through a lot, he’s matured a lot, he’s built this sort of “nest” for himself mentally. He’d much rather take things slow and finally have some peace in his life for once. And though Nichole has grown up and changed a lot too over the past 15-20~ years, I believe she’s still a fire at heart. A dampened one, but the kind of power and fury and energy she had in her youth isn’t something that’d completely go away, much like Katelyn’s. I think that would cause some personality clash between Nichole and Dante that'd make it hard for them to ever marry.

In my mind the difference between Katelyn and Nichole’s inner fire is that Katelyn could go through 20-40+ years of raw hellish suffering and come out forged all the stronger and fiercer of a fighter than she was before, she can’t be stopped, not a single chip of her would be lost. You beat Katelyn down and she’s only gonna come back swinging harder than ever. Nichole however, she doesn’t have that kind of infinitely blazing inner strength (maybe because she doesn’t have Menphia’s relic? It’s likely mostly personality differences). When she takes a debilitating blow, she gets knocked down and that fire of her grows a little smaller. She learns to steel herself and grow a thicker, stronger defense to make up for it, while Katelyn grows a stronger offense. If Katelyn is like a wolf, then Nichole is more like a fox. She finds her own, indirect ways to work around.

But that fire’s never gonna go out completely, and maybe with time she learns to reclaim the whimsy of her younger years and blazes a lot more freely and happily, in her early 60s and onwards. She regains her playful, fox-like spirit and overcomes the way most of the adults of PD left behind in the 15 year time skip were eroded away in their hope and friend’s absence. And that’s the difference between her and Dante, because Dante never fully recovered from everything that happened to him, while Nichole could and likely does bounce back, in good time. The sheer personality difference between Nichole and Dante that grows over time would make it harder for them to ever remarry and be a perfect, happy couple that’s entirely romantic. But they share a history together, they bore a son, their pasts have forever bonded them as family. Dante and Nichole are family now, that will forever effect the way they see and treat each other from now on, especially to two people who have struggled with or lost so much family before.

So I don’t think they could ever fully detach from one another. I don’t think they’d get married, but I think they’d move away to a private place together. Nichole rekindles herself by starting her own mining business, reclaiming what she used to love doing in her youth to find her heart again, and Dante tries to better himself and grow stronger as a person under her example and influence. But their personalities would be far too divided and opposing to marry (plus old, old scars that don’t quite go away) or become more anything than mildly romantically involved with one another. They wouldn’t be having any more kids any time soon. But they still stay close-by each other, because they can’t bare to see the other lost forever. They’d have to die together, of old age or sickness, less than a year apart. They wouldn’t be able to survive any longer than that. They need to be separate, for their own emotional sake, but they wouldn't dare to live without each other.

They’re not really “wife and husband,” they’re together in the sense that they maintain their own comfortable, quiet, protected home that they made together. They wouldn’t find any interest in marrying other people (mainly and especially because Kawaii~Chan goes off on her own to court Zane ((and Reese if I’m allowed to dream)). They’d have each other, as close friends, as family, as…something. Their own thing, I think. I think that’s what I’ll write for my fic, that’s where Dante ends up after the divorce

#MCD #Minecraft diaries rewrite au #aphmau #iridisasks

[shirkers2018dirsanditan]

some of the discourse that goes on about racial disparities the way we talk about race… it reminds me of my mom, who has his line she’s always pulling out where she talks about how we started talking about anti asian hate crimes. she’s like, when you look at the numbers, you know asian americans experienced maybe 20 hate crimes last year and this year it was 40, but hate crimes against Black people were in the hundreds or in the thousands or whatever (i don’t think it was thousands but)… and it’s like, well yeah black people are 13% of the american population. asian are 5%. it’s not about your numbers, it’s about the increase. it would be notable, you know, if all of a sudden, if last year they were 50 hate crimes against black people and this year they were 100…that would be notable because that’s a 50% increase. it’s not just about the numbers. it’s about the context of the numbers

similarly, like you see people say oh white men make up the majority of mass shooters. yeah of course they do, white men make up the majority of men in america. if any other demographic of men made up of majority of mass shooters, that would be notable, it would be highly unusual, because it would be disproportionate to their percentage of the population.…. most people in prison are white, most people killed by police are white because most people in america are white. it’s not about the raw numbers!!! it’s about the disparity. it’s about the ratio.

like a long time ago i remember seeing a post that was like, i know people always saying that the military exploits people of color but the majority of soldiers in the army are white. the majority of americans are white. it would be a disparity of fucking crazy proportions if the vast majority of soldiers in america were black. but it’s about the proportion of black people - 13% of population, but 20% of the armed services (just as an example idk the actual number), that’s a disparity worth looking at…….it’s not incorrect to say that the military exploits poor people in the us - by and large people of color but also plenty of white people - that’s objectively true so what is the point you’re trying to make???? most of the white people that join the military and are used as cannon fodder are not well to do LMFAO if you already had a secured bright future ahead of you wouldn’t join the fucking army



#i used voice to text for this LMAO i went through and made it legible but now all i can say is vaya con dios

[inglourious-imagines]

PROMPT LIST

Hello people! This is my own prompt list! Feel free to send requests! I’m really excited to do this haha

Also, this really took me some time to put it all together so please, if you reblog/use it/etc. give me credit. Thanks!

Update: If you have your own prompt that is not listed, quote or whatever else and you think it’s great, you can send it to me and we’ll see what comes out of it.

1. I fucking hate everyone. But you, you’re the only person I don’t hate.

2. And he looked at me, like there was something in me worth looking at. 

3. Anger makes you stupid. Stupid gets you killed.

4. I’m here. You can talk to me or not talk to me but I’m here.

5. Goddamn right you should be scared of me! 

6. And suddenly, life wasn’t about living. It was about surviving.

7. "-but you’ll die!“ "I don’t care." 

8. I said I’m fucking fine.

9. Don’t you touch her.

10. We sat there smoking cigarettes at 5 in the morning. 

11. Oh! The girl/boy I’ve heard so much about. 

12. No one would hurt you again, or I’d kill them.

13. A cigarette for a thousand problems.

14. I could keep you save. They’re all afraid of me.

15. You look so proud standing there with a frown and a cigarette. 

16. Thank you for loving me when I still tasted of heartache and war.

17. His eyes had more darkness than any other eyes I had ever seen before.

18. You don’t know shit about what happened to me. 

19. This is who we are, a product of war.

20. Looking half a corpse and half a god.

21. I wanna see how you lose control.

22. I look at you and I just love you and it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you. 

23. "You can’t protect everyone.” “I have to try." 

24. He’s a badass with a good heart.

25. You are losing my interest, and that is very dangerous. 

26. In a fight, they’re lethal. Around each other, they melt. 

27. I wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness.

28. You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you’ve comitted. 

29. With this smile, I can get away with everything. 

30. I was so stupid to make the mistake of falling in love with my best friend. 

31. Come over here and make me.

32. Oh my god! You’re in love with him!

33. Oh, do you ever shut up? 

34. Can you two please get a room? 

35. I have a name and it’s not sweetheart. 

36. If I ever see you anywhere near her, you’ll have to deal with me. 

37. Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy. 

38. Such dirty words from such a pretty little mouth. 

39. Kiss me. 

40. Are you flirting or starting a fight? 

41. You stay awake do you hear me?! Don’t you dare close your eyes! Please! Come on! 

42. Honestly, I only asked you for help because it’s so cute when you try.  

43. You’re standing a little close to me..

44. You’re evil. It’s hot. 

45. If you bite your lip one more time, I swear I’m going to do it for you. 

46. By the Gods! You love her, don’t you? 

47. It’s blood, not nuclear waste. Chill out. 

48. A knife? Are you flirting with me? 

49. "Hear me out.” “Why the fuck should i listen to you?" 

50. I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week. 

51. Rumour has it, I make you nervous. 

52. Leave, leave right now.

53. Can you just fuck off already?

54. "I- I trusted you!” “Sweet naive girl, trust is for children. You are a soldier." 

55. Alcohol’s the only instant in my life.

56. You gotta stop saying things that make me want to kiss you. 

57. Please don’t do this. Don’t act like you care. 

58. Is everything supposed to go dark?

59. Why can’t you see what you’re doing to me. 

60. Fuck, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

61. It’s 2 in the morning. Why are you still up?

62. I want an answer, goddammit! 

63. You make me want things I can’t have. 

64. Cut the crap and tell me what happened. 

65. Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.

66. It’s nice to see someone who can appreciate my humour.

67. We’re more than just friends and you know it. 

68. It’s pitch black in here and I can see you’re blushing.

69. Yes asshole, I do care about you.

70. They’re both stubborn and it’s complicated. 

71. For you, I would.

72. I like you more than I planned.

73. I need you, idiot.

74. Golden eyes and a smile made for war.

75. Take that, fuckers!

76. I licked it so it’s mine!

77. We’re in this together. 

78. Can I have this dance? 

79. Look, I know you’re a hardass but can you play with my hair? It would really help. 

80. No! Stay away from me! Stay back! 

81. Maybe if you actually stop staring at her and talk to her, you might have a chance. 

82. You have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.

83. I know that face. That’s your I’m-upset-with-you face. 

84. I think we’d make this a fair fight if we each had a gun. Don’t you think, boys? 

85. He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it.

86. Dear Lord, please have mercy on my soul. This woman/man will be the death of me. 

87. There are other things than Germans that can kill you. 

88. What the hell? You are supposed to hate me!

89. Why do you like me?

90. "You’re annoying.” “You love me.”

91. Wanna go to hell together? 

92. I lack the vocabulary to describe you.

93. You make me feel… you make me feel.“ 

94. What the fuck…?

95. So that’s you, the girl/boy who destroyed armies. 

96. You’re my regret.

97. You better not die on me! 

98. Can you stop shouting at me?!

99. Why are you making this so damn hard? 

100. But that’s the problem, (name). I don’t think I’m able to stop loving him/her. Ever. 

! UPDATE !

101. There is no way you’re going anywhere with him, not on my watch.

102. “You know you’re in love with her right?” “Since when?” “Since always.” 

103. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t do this.

104. I love you, I do, but you’re a real pain in the ass.

105. Is that my shirt?

106. Neither one of us is drunk enough for this conversation.

107. I think I might be falling in love with you.

108. What are you talking about? You’re married!

109. I saw that. You just checked me out.

110. Quick, pretend you’re talking to me.

111. I just wanted to hear your voice.

112. That was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.

113. No. The moment you saw me as a bet was the moment you fucked up.

114. "It could be worse.” “You aren’t the one bleeding.” “Look, you’re still alive. Stop whining.”

115. Are you naked under that thing?

116. “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

117. What the hell were you thinking?! 

18. You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?

119. Well, if I told you, then it wouldn’t be a secret.

120. Is it weird that was a total turn on?

121. That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard.

122. If I kiss you right now, I won’t be able to stop.

123. What did you just say?

#hbo war #band of brothers #the pacific #generation kill #bridgerton #imagine #band of brothers imagine #the pacific imagine #generation kill imagine #bridgerton imagine

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Monday 26.. May 1834

6 55/..

12 ¾

fine but dullish F58 ½° at 6 55/.. goodish kiss last night comfortable enough at Queen’s head at Staindrop – not so cheap and good as at Greta Bridge – off for Raby castle at 9 26/.. there in ¼ hour- drove into the hall – by much the most imposing part of the story – the castle well worth seeing but too much modernized within generally and without as to the windows – no pictures worth seeing but six good views of Venice by Canaletti [Canaletto] – castle and terraces stand on 2 acres – the old baronial hall seemed smaller than when I saw it from Croft 10 or 12 years ago, because perhaps now converted into a museum of natural history – some pretty good birds stuffed and shells and minerals – the housekeeper very civil – cleans the marble slabs and chimney pieces (the red porphyry columns of the entrance hall and the imitation verd antique of the excellent of the dining room only scagliuola) with a mixture of soft soap and Spanish whitening and pear ash smeared on to the marble should remain on a fortnight at least and then be washed off with hot water and a fine soft brush to take all out of the carved work – the breadth of flat grass terrace round the castle to the parapet wall surrounding it, not much wider in the widest part than 20 yards – flagged way close up to the windows some 8 some 5ft. broad- off from Raby at 10 47/.. and nice drive to Bishop Auckland at 11 ¾ a treat little town – alighted at goodish Inn and walked across the great square to the castle, a handsome modern castle-like house – went over it in 25 minutes – in the dining room Jacob and his 12 sons by Ribera Spagnoletti [Spagnoletto] (all but one by Pond) in as many of the large panels – Louis Cornaro his, son, grandson, and 4 or 5 great grandsons by Titian and 1 or 2 more pictures – none but a few bishops elsewhere and the whole house looked very bare of furniture – a picture in the fine large handsome chapel (roof very fine oak-carving in square compartments armorial) over the alter by Sir Joshua Reynolds – Xst [Christ] ascending from the X in 1 compartment of window and in one ditto on each side, a Roman soldier falling or fallen to the Earth in astonishment and terror – not a pleasing picture to me – the 2 soldiers heavy and clumsy – the Xst [Christ] not handsome and seeming faded as to colouring – an hour strolling about the park – very picturesque good castle-like deer sheds looking like handsome arcaded stables from the castle – the little river Gaunless (pronounced Ganless) enlarged and deepened and weared and paved with stones and spoiled opposite the house – it flows in a rocky picturesque ravine – the country around beautiful – 5/8 of an octagon battlemented old looking temple or seat on the opposite side of the river well situated near the top of the hill and commanding nice view of the castle – 5 open archways, rather pointed, like old fashioned doorways – a small buttress from bottom to top between each archway – about 4ft. wide and 6ft. 6in. high to the span of the arch – this might do at the top of the Conery wood – off from Bishop Auckland at 1 40, pretty about the picturesque village (large village green or square) of Piercebridge – handsome 3 arched street over the picturesque rock-bedded tees but a small river just now, so little water in its bed – colonel Pulleyn has a goodish 3 story house on entering the village – no post horses – went forward (21 miles) to Cattericke bridge – off from there at 4 50/.. and at Masham at 6 55/.. – for the last half hour had grubbled her well just done before driving into the town ordered tea at 8 and strolled into the neat good church – handsome monument (about 1613) to a sir Marmaduke Wyville [Wyvill] and his wife – 3 or 4 Danby monuments but recent and not handsome the church in mourning for the last of his house William Danby Esquire of Swinton who died about 5 months ago – then walked to the house to the about a mile + very pretty drive – walked up to the house as near as we could for high-iron-railed – off flower garden in front – modern castellated – joined on to a common sort of plain house and offices – not in particularly good architectural keeping but looking very pretty – the park struck us as far more beautiful than that at Rokeby – tho’ the entrance lodges not castle-like, and not at all suited to the house – back in about ½ hour at 9 – tea – wrote all the above of today till 11 25/.. at which hour F58° now in sitting room, fine day – coolish in the evening but very fine on leaving Bishop Auckland found cousin gently came not afterwards incommoded

£70 given by Mr. Danby over the arch separating the chancel from the body of the church – an angel on a cloud contemplating a cross. Greek motto at his feet which things the angels desire to look into good picture

[tf2workbench]

You cannot burn me - I am already on fire!

A while ago, I quipped about “defensive immolation” and was very pleased by my cleverness. What if that became an actual strategy?

We’ll start with the Soldier himself, Mr. Jane Doe, who’s clearly a few cards short of a full deck...

Self-Burn Launcher Iteration 1 (+) On hit: Ignite players (5 seconds) (+) While on fire: +33% reload speed and +25% fire rate (+/-) On self-damage: Ignite self (+/-) -25% afterburn damage (-) -20% damage vs players

In the same vein as the Equalizer: get close enough to death, and you will become Death himself.

Unfortunately, though, this weapon has a significant downside. Because it deals normal rocket jump damage but also ignites you, you’ll be taking a lot more damage from any jump you make (five seconds of afterburn at -25% damage will deal 30 to you, assuming you can’t extinguish it). This drastically reduces your mobility, which can be really frustrating, not to mention limiting.

On the other end of the weapon, we know that people tend to have a stress response to being set on fire. While this doesn’t kill the weapon - Pyro exists, after all - it’s worth noting that more sources of afterburn may lead players to say “It feels like I’m always on fire!” This is particularly evident since this rocket launcher, like the controversial Scorch Shot, can ignite enemies from way across the map.

Self-Burn Launcher Iteration 2 (+) On hit: Ignite enemy. Afterburn lasts from 0 to 5 seconds depending on damage done. (+) While on fire: +33% reload speed and +25% fire rate (+) -40% self-damage from rocket jumps (+/-) On self-damage: Ignite self (-) -20% damage vs players

With these changes, we limit the problems we discussed with the first iteration.

But here, I want to shift perspective to the user. Will people use this weapon, knowing the stress of being on fire? I think yes - the benefits are useful, even if the ticking damage is a bit bothersome. It’s not ideal, of course, but I think the strength of this rocket launcher is enough to make people want to use it.

But more on the user experience: how does this change your interactions with friendly Pyros and Medics, who might try to extinguish you? What if they do it without you asking, stopping what was going to be a wonderful killing spree? That could cause some friction between you and your team (although I’ll concur that it’s pretty hard to extinguish a Soldier who’s currently rocket jumping away from you).

A possibly more serious problem is a weapon that no one really thinks of: the Manmelter. In addition to restoring health on extinguishing an ally, it gains a guaranteed crit. Forget just farming health - if this Soldier teams up with a Manmelter Pyro to farm crits in the respawn room, the Pyro could inflict quite a lot of harm on the enemy team. That’s an unintended interaction, for sure. We could limit it by saying you can’t be extinguished by friendly players, but that seems a bit cumbersome. Oh well.

This weapon is a bit awkward, I’ll admit. I want to show the attribute off with another one, a weak Scout weapon that needs a rebalance.

Sun-on-a-Stick Iteration 2 (+) While on fire: +15% move speed (+) On hit: Target is engulfed in flames (-) On miss: Hit yourself. Idiot.

Putting some health-management dynamics into the Sun-on-a-Stick, we come up with this. It’s far more useful than the current version, that’s for sure!

But wait: don’t all the issues we talked about with the rocket launcher apply to this melee, too? Annoying fire, extinguishing exploits, and the like? And that’s not even getting into the question of how enemy Pyros would feel about suddenly powering up the person they wanted to kill.

Yeah, these are problems. This attribute is... surprisingly hard to work with.

Although we’ve got kind of a mixed bag here, I want to point out that these weapons have really intriguing, complex playstyles. That’s good; it’s what we like to see. Maybe there’s a way these weapons could keep that complexity while being less awkward. How would you do it?

#tf2workbench #tf2 #team fortress 2 #scout #soldier #primary #melee #sun-on-a-stick

[michaelwavemichaelwave]

I posted 2,611 times in 2022

That's 2,611 more posts than 2021!

65 posts created (2%)

2,546 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@quicksilver-castiel

@adammilligan

@fellshish

@klayr-de-gall

@pussypopstiel

I tagged 1,565 of my posts in 2022

Only 40% of my posts had no tags

#spn - 1,351 posts

#notes - 62 posts

#midam - 62 posts

#prev - 60 posts

#supernatural - 46 posts

#read later - 25 posts

#adam milligan - 24 posts

#all hail michaelwave - 16 posts

#misha collins - 12 posts

#lmao - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i do very much think adam has the mindset of 'if i wasn't worth enough of their time to get me out of the cage then they're sure as hell not

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Micheal and Adam definitely had this giant DnD campaign over their time in Hell. Micheal plays an Angel Sorcerer named Micheal while Adam DMs (struggling to balance out Micheal's character).

"You see a village."

"I smite it, as is my mission."

"No. You don't have that ability."

"Yes, I do."

"No. Maybe try talking to one of the villagers."

"I stab him."

Adam groans, that was supposed to be the exposition dump and friend of the campaign NPC. He shifts said role to another NPC.

"I stab him."

"He takes six piercing damage."

"He should be dead."

"He's bloody, but he's hanging in there, buddy."

"I stab him again."

"But before you kill him, he offers you some dying words <insert lenghty exposition dump here> and then he dies."

Micheal is indifferent to the game, but soon he begins taking it far too seriously (He likes going on missions and killing things). Micheal gets frustrated with needing to take long rests and how his powers in game are limited. Later Adam will join as an NPC in the campaign. He wants to pick a cool name, race and class, but Micheal somehow talks him into playing a human fighter named Adam Milligan. The two go on epic quests together to smite demons, and bog slimes. Along the way Micheal befriends an animal familiar (What kind of animal would Micheal's familiar be and what would its name be?) But it befriends Micheal, and Adam loves it, and soon Micheal and the pet companion are inseperable.

Then one day a Giant Vemomous snake attacks them as a random encounter for having low perception and the familiar/pet companion is killed. Micheal sides the main plot of the campaign and gets into necromancy. Micheal swears revenge on eliminating the Giant Vemomous snake population in its entirity- and the campaign takes an unexpected side quest for several years.

Throughout the campaign Adam keeps trying to get Micheal to reflect on "maybe you don't need to complete every quest, and should find your own pursuits. What does Micheal want?"

"Micheal is a soldier. It is his duty to complete quests."

"But you put it aside for (pet companion's name)."

Micheal frowns. Slowly coming to the realization that maybe... he doesn't like going on missions and killing things? Maybe he just likes spending time with DnD Adam. DnD Micheal never fully completes his character arch before they get out of The Cage. He reaches level 20 and believes this to be enough. Eventually DnD Adam decides to retire from fighting, and DnD Micheal decides to go with him. But there are still post retirement from fighting adventures. And then they escape The Cage and never return to the game.

32 notes - Posted May 18, 2022

#4

Sure, Adam fulfilling his dream of becoming a doctor-

But what if his junior/ senior year of college he discovers that he hates being a doctor and that his true interest lies in another subject entirely. It's just being a doctor seemed so much more practical and stable, something he was supposed to become but isn't, Chuck's parallels, and his mom did it and he want to be like her. So he has to unravel all those emotions???

32 notes - Posted June 16, 2022

#3

Adam feeling confident walking into that diner knowing that George Bush is the president and the new iPhone is the iPhone 3.

33 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

#2

Michael: You'll be my guide! :)

Adam, who hasn't been around humanity for 1,200 years: Oh for sure, I got this.

83 notes - Posted June 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

127 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[crimechannels]

By • Olalekan Fagbade 113 gunmen killed, 300 others arrested in latest Military onslaught against suspected Terrorists — DHQ Defence Headquarters (DHQ) on Thursday said troops neutralised 113 terrorists, arrested 300 terrorists, and rescued 91 Kidnap victims in one week. The Director, Defence Media Operations, Major General Edward Buba who disclosed this said troops arrested 25 suspected oil thieves, destroyed 49 illegal refining sites, and seized stolen products worth N571m only. He said the troops recovered 129 assorted weapons and 717 assorted ammunition. He restated that the armed forces will continue to exert military pressure on groups that seek to derail any progress toward peace and security in the country. “There is no doubt that these groups must be defeated and are indeed being defeated. “It is for these reason we are inflicting severe damage on the terrorist, insurgents, and violent extremists through our operations across the country. Accordingly, we are targeting their leadership, infrastructure, and foot soldiers. “The coordination between the air and ground forces is like never seen before and yielding amazing results and achievements. We are expecting new platforms that would further enhance our capabilities to further root out the terrorist and destroy their military capabilities” he said. He gave a breakdown of recovered items to include; one unserviceable AA gun, one RPG tube, five RPG bombs, one GT3 rifle, 54 AK47 rifles, eight locally fabricated rifles, one locally made rifle, two pistols, two pump action guns, two dane guns, four locally fabricated pistol, three skeleton of AK47 rifles, nine hand grenades, one unserviceable AK47 rifle, 14 magazines, 321 rounds of 7.62mm special ammo, 40 live cartridges. Others are 53 rounds of 5.45mm x 39mm ammo, 35 rounds of 7.62mm NATO, 100 rounds of short gun, 11 rifle body, seven breech blocks, seven rifle butts, eight rifle muzzles, nine pistons assembles, 210 springs, one drilling machine, hand filling machines, 10 magazine purges, IED making materials, four boating radios, 15 motorcycles, 20 mobile phones and the sum of N348,200 amongst other items. Meanwhile, troops in the Niger Delta area discovered and destroyed 76 dugout pits, 35 boats, 95 storage tanks, 10 vehicles, 129 cooking ovens, five pumping machines, 13 speedboats, six outboard engines, one vessel, three motorcycles, and 49 illegal refining sites. He added that troops recovered 514,640 litres of stolen crude oil, 339,315 litres of illegally refined AGO, and 775 litres of DPK. He reiterated that the Armed Forces of Nigeria is a disciplined and well-trained force that conducts its operation within the ambit of laws governing human rights and that of armed conflict. “We have rules of engagement that are followed in the course of our actions. Nevertheless, there are standing court martials to put on trial any erring personnel that is found wanting during operations. “There is, therefore, the need for us to be circumspect of groups and organisations that embark on misinformation and disinformation to give the military a negative image. They have ulterior motives for their actions. “For instance, the circulation of old footage of incidences that occurred in yesteryears that have been tried at a court-martial as though, they were recent occurrences is mischievous. The public should be weary of such groups and their motive.”

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.

Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday. (Although this could very easily have been Too Much Misinformation Tuesday!)

There are two billion parking spaces in the US.

Park City, Utah has a city park. Address: City Park, Park City.

Pumbaa was the first ever character to fart in a Disney movie.

Bob Marley was buried with his Les Paul guitar, a bible and some weed.

In 1972, a spokesman for Scotland Yard suggested that Ford Transits were used in 95% of bank robberies.

British dung beetles are estimated to be worth £40m a year to the cattle industry for clearing up cow pats.

Capgras syndrome is a delusion where you believe the people closest to you have been replaced by imposters.

October 21 is National Throw Short People Day. You can throw anyone under 5’4” with no permission needed.

For the first time since they began polling on the question, YouGov reports that most British men now sport facial hair.

The role of Captain Jack Sparrow was originally offered to Jim Carrey but he turned it down for the role of ‘Bruce Almighty’.

It is more likely to rain on Saturday than on weekdays. Pollution builds up over the course of the week and seeds clouds.

In 1978, Soviet geologists found a family of six that lived in the middle of Siberia who hadn't seen another human since 1936.

James Murray, the primary editor of the Oxford English Dictionary from 1879, wrote his last entry in 1915. It was the word ‘twilight’.

The deadliest female serial killer in US history, Clementine Barnabet, had murdered 35 people with an axe by the time she was 18 years old.

The average human attention span has almost halved since 2000 decreasing from 20 seconds to 12 in 2018. Sorry … what’s your name again?

The currency in Botswana is the Pula. ‘Pula’ means ‘rain’ or ‘blessings’. Since most of Botswana is arid, rain is considered precious.

The New Zealand Symphony Orchestra have teamed up with a local chicken farm to play chicken-friendly music to improve the lives of chickens.

During job interviews, Google doesn't ask for GPA or test scores from their candidates because they don't correlate with success at the company.

Ninjas didn't actually wear black. According to the ninja museums in Japan, the best colour to wear during the night time was actually navy blue.

A study measuring the effects of music found that cows produce more milk when listening to soothing music. They produce the most when listening to REM’s ‘Everybody Hurts’.

Knowing someone who works at the company you want a job at increases your chances of getting an interview and makes you 40% more likely to get the job over someone with a fancier CV than you.

Your odds of being killed by a meteor are 1 in 1,600,000. What about the odds of a 4 billion year old meteor hitting the home of a French family with the last name Commette? Because that's what happened in 2011.

A Japanese soldier was stranded on an island for 30 years after the Second World War had ended. He continued to stand his post in uniform until his commander came to the island to personally dismiss him in 1974.

The Tiffany Problem occurs when a historical novel or film contains details that seem too modern to be true but are in fact correct for the time. The name Tiffany is one such example, it dates back to at least the 12th century.

British banking giant HSBC admitted to laundering billions of dollars for Colombian and Mexican drug cartels and violating a host of important banking laws but, somehow, there were no criminal charges and no one went to jail.

Sadio Mané, the Senegalese football player is transforming Bambaly, his native Senegal village; he built a hospital, a school and he is paying 80 euros a month to all its citizens. Recently he installed a 4G network and built a postal office.

There are debt collectors in Spain that hire people to find you when you're out in public and just stand and stare at you. And they just stare, in an attempt to shame you into paying your debt. They can be dressed as funeral directors, clowns, bull fighters, bears, anything!

Mario Puzo, the author of The Godfather books, who’d also adapted them to film, had no idea what he was doing as he’d never written a screenplay before. After winning two Oscars, he decided to buy a book on screenwriting to learn how. In the first chapter, it said “Study ‘The Godfather’.”

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #new blog #lockdown #coronavirus #books #democracy #brexit #cronyism #election #radio #tuesdaymotivation

[lovestuckyhatemarvel]

Okay, another hour and a half long episode.

1.) Brenner missed the sad CGI and also baby El was very good at sealing the upside down.

2.) Brenner should have been a tattoo artist instead. I mean, a tattoo artist for adults, not kids. He’s got very steady hands and can tattoo numbers very exactly.

3.) THIS IS MUSIC.

4.) Honestly so far the only one who’s been a snob about music is Robin. But also I still don’t think Eddie would like Taylor Swift.

5.) Henry really wants to villain monologue at you, Nancy. Take a seat for this cliche.

6.) Damn, the CGI on those restraints is…bad.

7.) These images are going way too fast.

8.) Damn, Steve. Your arms are nice.

9.).”Written and directed by the Duffer Brothers”. I Know. That’s the Problem.

10.) What’s the point of keeping Yuri quiet at this point?

11.) Hopper, we super had a funeral for you.

12.) El is actually doing really badly.

13.) Why is anyone surprised that demogorgons can climb? Look at those fuck off legs.

14.) DID NONE OF THESE GUARDS PAY ATTENTION TO HOPPER USING FIRE?

15.) Okay the soldiers can unload their clip into a demogorgon and nothing happens but Hopper can shoot a demodog once in the head like Ol Yeller and it works.

16.) Okay but for real, where are the Russians getting all these bastards? Fun tubes, but WHERE ARE THEY FROM? Are they from Hawkins? How did they transfer that shit?

17.) HOW’D THEY GET THE CGI DUST MONSTER TO RUSSIA?

18.) Okay she can lift a thing.

19.) Will, I’m so sorry, but I did not care about your speech to Mike.

20.) I still don’t understand how Henry survived El’s attack or why the upside down didn’t turn into anything for him or what the fuck he did for like a decade floating in a void.

21.) Why is everyone whispering

22.) El got to hear at least some of the plan, at least.

23.) The War Zone is a hilarious name for a shop.

24.) Eddie, you moron. Wearing a mask doesn’t help if you’re wearing a shirt emblazoned with your club.

25.) BIG BOY.

26.) My roommate pointed out the RV would have been hooked up to water and sewage so driving it off like that would have fucked up the ground and the vehicle.

27.) I do not understand why Henry is so powerful or why him killing people would give him their powers when it doesn’t do that for El.

28.) I still don’t want Steve and Nancy together. Also I don’t think he actually said he wanted her there.

29.) that helicopter is hilarious

30.) “The KGB will be listening to this call” Oh what a change. This time it’ll be agents of someone else’s government that will be listening in.

31.) Oh, okay, Steve got the jacket from War Zone. Where’s the vest though?

32.) Ah, the boyfriend reveal.

33.) I still hate Jason Carver. Also, buckshot has a pretty good range, dipshit.

34.) Tire tracks. Ah yes, the plot happened here.

35.) IDK why El told Sam to check Max’s place. The bit she heard did not make it seem like they were staying there. And so Sam asking that woman for that was kind of stupid.

36.) What? Brenner double crossed Sam Owens? Who could have predicted this twist? Surely only the greatest psychics.

37.) I am proud of El for saying to Brenner’s face that he’s a monster.

38.) Baby girl, kill Brenner anyway.

39.) YOU KNOW WHO WOULD LOVE TO KILL BRENNER? KALI. THE GIRL NO ONE IN THIS FACILITY TALKS ABOUT.

40.) Robin and Steve are sweet.

41.) goddamn it, brenner, just remove El’s collar.

42.) I am glad Brenner got shot so many times though.

43.) Oh shit, it’s the script.

44.) oh no the psychic child is using her psychic powers to stop your from badly shooting at her? Who could have predicted this?

45.) oh my god el, do something real already.

46.) the payoff wasn’t worth it.

47.) “Yeah, it’s cool, but it would have been better if it’d happened about 11 seconds earlier.” My roommate is hilarious.

48.) Brenner turned off the collar as a last act. Okay whatever.

49.) BRENNER SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DIE ALREADY.

50.) this heartfelt conversation makes no sense and was not earned.

51.) brenner you were shot like 5 times by a sniper rifle, how are you still talking, let alone alive?

52.) SHould have run over his corpse with the pizza van

53.) god they held on that brenner shot for way too long

54.) WHO’S GONN DIE????? Just say everyone.

55.) moody shots.

56.) LMAO THIS SONG. GOD. DUFFERS, STOP SUCKING YOUR OWN CODCKS FOR FIVE SECONDS.

Oh god I looked ahead and the season 4 finale is 2 and 22 minutes long. I hate the duffers.

#stranger things #stranger things rewatch #stranger things s4e8 #s4e8 #season 4 episode 8