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dumfanting · 6 months ago

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Rain

AO3 Link

Rating: E, explicit

Warnings: season three spoilers, post episode three, post Tantiss escape, tremors, briefly referenced trauma, rain storms, kissing in the rain, makeouts, sex outdoors, nipple play, fingering (f receiving), handjobs, oral sex (both giving and receiving), blowjobs, standing sex, sex against a wall, penetration, PiV, multiple orgasms, creampie, Crosshair being vulnerable, no dialogue | Notes: fem reader, second person, present tense

Woke up with a song in my head and a storm pouring down outside, got this idea, and wrote it up immediately. I’ve been thinking about doing something for Crosshair with this song anyway.

I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could write something without any dialogue in quotes, and I think I pulled it off.

Recommended listening: Rain - Sleep Token

1791 words

F! Reader/ Crosshair

You and Crosshair find shelter from a storm on Pabu.

And just like the rain, you cast the dust into nothing

and wash out the salt from my hands.

So touch me again

I feel my shadow dissolving.

Will you cleanse me with pleasure?

By the time you see the storm clouds rushing toward the island, you and Crosshair are so far out on the beach that you won’t have time to get inside once the rain comes.

The first fat drops hit your skin, then the sky opens up, quickly soaking you both through as if you’d stepped into a giant shower. Crosshair grumbles, about to tell you off for dragging him out here, but when he turns to look at you, he stops.

You’re a few steps behind him, standing still with your face turned upwards and your eyes closed, an almost euphoric smile on your lips.

He remembers that you came from Tattooine, not Kamino like him, so your opinion of the rain is vastly different from his. Storms are an annoyance, a persistent inconvenience to him, but when he sees you open your eyes, your hair wet and sticking to your neck as you laugh and spin around once, arms outstretched, he knows it’s a rare treat for you.

The rain here is vastly different from the rain on Kamino; here it’s warm, peaceful, almost soothing in a way, though he’d never admit it. And he won’t complain about the downpour making your thin white dress cling to your body and leave virtually nothing to the imagination.

You catch him staring at your otherwise bare chest and shake yourself, giggling. He rolls his eyes at you, but there’s a soft smile on his face. The two of you approach each other, rain still pouring down, and when you meet, he wraps his arms around your waist while you link your hands behind his neck, neither of you speaking.

The next thing you know, his grip on you tightens as he pulls you closer and crushes his lips against yours. He gently prods at your mouth with his tongue, and you oblige, opening up for him. You both groan softly as you taste each other, the kiss deepening and the desire between you intensifying with each passing moment.

An unexpected flash of lightning and boom of thunder startles you apart. After a glance around, Crosshair grabs your hand and leads you towards the nearby cave. Lightning strikes again, slightly closer, and you both sprint the remaining distance inside.

Once there, you both lean heavily against the stone wall, panting to catch your breath. Thunder rolls again, echoing through the space, and you see Crosshair unconsciously flinch, his hand trembling. He hasn’t told you much about what he went through on Tantiss, but you know this isn’t the time to ask.

You slowly reach out, giving him time to pull away, but when he doesn’t, you gently take his hand into both of yours before holding it close to your chest. He steps closer and presses his palm against your skin, the steady thumping of your heart grounding him. He kisses you, softly, and you see the unspoken gratitude in his eyes when he breaks away.

You reach up and cup one side of his face, tracing your thumb along his cheekbone. The two of you just stare at each other for a moment, and once you feel the tremor of his hand die down, you take him by the wrist and move his hand to cup one of your breasts. He looks over at you, eyes wide, and moves no further until you nod at him.

The moment you do, whatever has been holding him back vanishes, and he crashes his lips against yours again, making you moan softly as he rolls your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You step back long enough to peel your dress off, the cooler air of the cave giving you goosebumps as you do.

Crosshair follows your lead, also stripping down.

You clash together again, kissing each other deeply as the sound of the rain outside intensifies. Crosshar breaks away and mouths along your throat, nipping at your collarbone, before finally slouching down enough to take your nipple between his teeth and gently suck at it. The high gasp this pulls out of you is muffled by another roll of thunder, but neither or you pay the outside world any mind.

You hold the back of his head with one hand, dragging your nails along his scalp and making him shiver. You use your other hand to palm his cock through his briefs, and he groans against your skin, taking his turn to make you shiver. He pulls away from your nipple with a soft pop and kisses you once more as he slips his hand between your legs, finding your panties soaked and your pussy wet in a way that has nothing to do with the weather.

He slips a single finger into your hot cunt and gently prods around, stopping when he finds that specific spot that makes you whine. You drop your hand into his waistband and firmly grip his stiff cock, jerking him off under the fabric. He growls lowly in your ear and slides another finger inside of you, steadily scissoring in and out while his thumb rubs up and down against your swollen clit. Your hips buck against his hand and you moan his name.

Almost immediately, he takes his hands off of you, but before you can react, he drops to his knees and quickly pulls your panties down, letting them pool around your ankles. He grips your knees and firmly but not roughly spreads them apart just enough for him to stretch his neck and press his face between your thighs.

You curse and grab the sides of Crosshair’s head when he plunges his tongue into your cunt, slurping up your juices and humming, long and low, against your clit. He rapidly oscillates between sucking at it and licking upwards into your pussy, pulling the most sinful sounds out of you. He pulls back long enough to return his two fingers into your core, pressing rhythmically into the same spot deep inside while he latches back onto your clit, gently nipping at the over sensitive bud with his teeth. You whimper his name, and adjust your position enough for you to watch him. He meets your eyes and the absolute devotion in them is what finally pushes you over the edge.

You come so hard that you see stars, your legs clamping around Crosshair’s head as you grind yourself down against his tongue. He stays put, drinking up as much of your release as he can until your body suddenly goes limp and you gasp for air. He quickly gets to his feet and catches you before you collapse, looking quite proud of himself.

It takes a moment, but once you’re able to stand unassisted again, you grab him by the shoulders and swap places with him; his back against the cave wall as you kneel before him. You yank his briefs down with no preamble, his cock springing free and bouncing against your chin. You wrap your arms around his legs from behind and take your turn to nudge them apart. He tangles his fingers into your hair and moans your name.

The sound is barely out of his mouth before his cock is in your throat, and he curses, almost loud enough to drown out the never ending storm outside. You giggle around him, the vibration in your throat making him cry out as he tightens his grip on your head. You slowly bob your head up and down, teasing him, dragging your tongue along the underside of his throbbing cock as you move. Once he’s out far enough, you lap at the slit of his cock head, indulging yourself in the sticky-sweet taste of the seemingly endless amount of precum leaking from it.

You look up at him through your lashes, taking in every detail of the man above you but completely at your mercy. He, in turn, looks down at you and when you see the desperation on his face, you abruptly slide back down his cock, taking him deeply enough into your throat for your nose to press against his pelvis, making him shout something in Mando’a that you don’t recognize. You giggle around him again.

He suddenly jerks back, freeing himself from your mouth, panting for breath. He drops to his knees again, back on your level, and grabs your ass, scooping you up as he stands. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips and grip his shoulders. Keeping a hand on the back of your head to stop it from smacking against the rock, he slams you against the wall and sheaths himself into you entirely in one fluid motion, his lips never leaving yours.

His cock hits deep in your cunt and you break away from him with a shout of his name. He growls in your ear and starts to piston himself in and out of you at an almost unbelievable pace, rocketing you to the edge in a matter of moments.

Your nails dig into his back and he dips his head down into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against the delicate skin.

His movements become erratic, and he props you up with a knee, then moves a hand down to where the two of you are joined, rubbing tight circles against your clit. Your body spasms, your pussy fluttering around his cock. He groans your name and bites into the junction where your neck meets your shoulder, sucking a large, dark, mark there.

Lightning flashes again and your second orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, with Crosshair seconds behind you, his hips stuttering as his cock twitches and fills you to the brim with his hot cum.

Knocked off balance by the force of such a powerful orgasm, he stumbles for a moment. You decide, as much as you don’t want to, to move and slip his cock out of you as you stand again. Supporting his weight, you hold Crosshair tightly against your body, gradually sliding down the cave wall and into a sitting position on the floor, moving him with you.

In a rare show of vulnerability, Crosshair sits in your lap, facing you, and rests his head against your chest, memorizing the steady, strong sound of your heartbeat against his ear as he clings to you. You hold him tightly and kiss his forehead, the both of you finding peace with him held safely in your arms.

When I open my eyes to the future

I can hear you say my name.

Taglist: @madameminor @kaminocasey @jennamelinda12 @arctrooper69 @the-cantina @jedi-hawkins

To be tagged in future Crosshair one-shots, reply to this post

#my fics #cross #Crosshair

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carefulfears · 2 years ago

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thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read this post of mine and reblog and share your thoughts and send me messages about it, i really appreciate it. a few more thoughts below the cut but i wanted to say that first!

i feel like what i wrote the other day could be interpreted as derogatory towards the show and a byproduct of patriarchal writing that should have been different, and while there are many aspects of the show that are, i don't personally view it that way.

mulder and scully each have different reactions to violence that are rooted in different experiences, and from different points of view. this isn't a bad thing, this is the thesis of the story, but it is gendered. it is a position of privilege to wonder about exploitation. to be able to study and investigate it and desire to understand it, without it being personal. without having to confront that it could have easily been you, without having to reconcile that it has been you in the past. without having to incorporate those feelings and triggers into the process.

this grounds the characters, and is a very honest aspect of exposure to gendered violence, and the brutalization of women in particular, which is something that is rampant in both our world and the world of the x files.

more than any other defining characteristic, mulder understands the world that he lives in. he understands the systems that are in power, and he understands that certain people are more vulnerable, and aren't seen by those systems.

women, children, people of color, people with different experiences or abilities, are all disregarded by the world at large, seen as disposable, and not listened to. this is something that mulder expresses frustration about regularly, often repeating the sentiment that "nobody cares," such as with possible murders of migrant workers (el mundo gira), the deaths of black men (teliko), the abuse of haitian refugees (fresh bones), etc.

he knows that the FBI, and the government in general, are not interested in the victims, and are not interested in believing and listening to and helping everyone. the majority of his character and the majority of the show is spent focusing on those people, and refusing to accept the systems that ignore them.

this extends to local law enforcement, as virtually all of the confrontations that mulder has in any given episode are pushing back against cops, who are rarely supportive in his investigations. a stand-out to me is here in conduit, the sheriff who spends the entire episode dismissing the disappearance of a teenage girl, because she was "no prom queen" who drank and slept around, and her mom had a reputation of being crazy.

this is contrasted throughout the episode with mulder's obsessive dedication to trying to find her, advocating for her, and taking her mother seriously.

this is something that he does often, and notably when law enforcement treats victims (mostly women, sometimes teenagers, such as in schizogeny) as suspects, and tries to incriminate them rather than defend them (oubliette, mind's eye, terms of endearment, etc.)

as @iconicscullyoutfits wrote in her analysis of blood, "he always knows when someone is a victim despite seeming like a villain by all accounts."

in blood, he tells a woman who beat her mechanic to death that he wants to help her, and he cries out in her defense when a cop responds with deadly force to her attacking mulder. after she nearly kills him, he instantly turns his attention to the systems that caused her to act violently, and figures out that the town was being poisoned through pesticide, in what was likely a government experiment.

mulder was regarded as a brilliant analyst for his uncanny ability to always know who (or what) is responsible for the violence that he bears witness to, whether that be as the genius golden boy of the violent crimes division or spooky mulder in the basement, but that extends to an implicit understanding of how that violence came to be. what the systems are that enable it, and who the true victims are as well.

and the true victims, from the violent crimes division to the basement x-files to the government conspiracy, are often vulnerable and preyed upon groups. in the government/syndicate project, it's almost always women who are abducted, it is only women who come back with implants, and it is only women who get terminally sick as a result. it's women who have their bodily autonomy violated and who are stolen from and who are used for biological material. it's low-income areas who are targeted with military experiments, and who are used for the testing of military technology.

in deep throat, in conversation about government secrets, mulder asks scully, "when does the human cost become too high in the building of a better machine?" and the human cost is high and specific.

the specific targeting of women is something that mulder has been exposed to from every angle for his entire career, and while he has a less personal reaction to scully's, it is often also an emotional one

in oubliette, he openly weeps over the body of lucy householder, a kidnapping survivor who was a drug addict with convictions of prostitution and narcotic possession

in conduit, he visibly shakes and tears up when they find a grave that might belong to a missing girl

the victimization of women, children, and people otherwise viewed as disposable by society is an emotional issue to mulder, whose entire life is predicated on the person closest to him having been viewed as expendable to the government, to his parents, and to society.

samantha was sacrificed to the project instead of mulder, and her file originally had his name on it, a realization that he never gets over or stops trying to make up for. the realization that she was given up in his place.

when samantha went missing, their parents responded by pretending that she had never existed. the "investigation" into her disappearance was closed, and everyone attempted to move on with their lives as though nothing had happened, as though she had never mattered.

the people that she was being held by, government men on a military base, treated her as less than human

their mother burned photos of her

their father references "burying memories," and both bill and tena spend the rest of their lives trying to bury the truth about what happened to her

whereas mulder, in the pilot, looks at scully and tells her that "nothing else matters" to him. he views himself as committed to his sister, as having a responsibility to her, and he always surrounds himself with photos and memories of her. proof of her existence and the meaning behind his life's work.

he never stops looking for her in everything, in every room, in every victim

even years and decades after knowing and confirming that she's dead

and he extends that commitment and that compassion to every victim that he comes across. while they might not be samantha, they're somebody, and he's just as affected by the injustices that others suffer.

he's never willing to accept that this is just how the world he (and we) live in works, that the person who was everything to him was nothing to those in power, and he extends that indignation to the women who came before her

and who come after her

while his response to violence might be one of a privileged viewpoint, it isn't one of detachment, because he makes sure that it isn't. a little girl was sacrificed so that this wouldn't have to be his burden, so that the fact that people are sacrificial wouldn't be his problem, and he takes it on anyway.

he chooses to see the reality of the world, to not turn a blind eye, and he's never ever okay with it

#mulder apologia on main #it's not apologia if it's true <3 #i cited my sources #i adore him to pieces #thank you again everyone

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angelwheat · 7 months ago

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The Mundane and the Magic

༻ a codz x reader story ༺

➶ The Giant // ❝ Self-righteous Suicide ❞

➶ Chapter Four , 4621 words

Wobbly legs failed to support her as she nearly toppled over onto icy ground from the sheer unsteadiness of being exported from reality for a brief second and zapped into a land unfamiliar. Evidently, the experience struck the four men just the same, for each of them stumbled, struggling to recompose themselves as their heads were virtually spinning.

Hunching over where she stood, the girl pressed her hands to her hips, fighting to keep the bile down that she could feel bubbling up inside. Allowing the motion sickness to subside, she stayed put for a moment, listening to the men huff and grumble in displeasure.

After a short while she straightened her posture, smoothing down her hair that had blown askew at such a surprisingly harsh motion of blending through the linear fabrics of the universe.

Observing the foursome spaced out around her, (Y/n) noticed that the German appeared the most well composed out of them all, somewhat strangely unbothered by the experience of being teleported. Perhaps he was fortunate enough not to feel the sickening effects so strongly… or maybe he’s used to it.

The fact that he looked so unaffected but merely swayed for a second was enough to taunt the boys who almost landed with their faces in heaps of snow.

Dempsey staggered to composure, spitting his words at the German. “What the fuck was that Doc?”

Richtofen bit his tongue, infuriated with the American’s persistent use of his abbreviated title.

“Time travel.” He answered bluntly, looking down to smooth his attire.

“Yeah, no shit.” Dempsey coughed into his arm.

Nikolai had readied his shotgun the very second his eyes could focus steadily on his surroundings.

Immediately, the location struck as new, and eerie without a doubt, for there were tall, fully constructed buildings surrounding them, unlike the crumpled monuments seen prior to their hasty departure from Northern France.

These buildings towered high, some ranging from two, to perhaps three or four floors. The location appeared to be a group of factories; guess-ably of use for constructive purpose for the German army, for the writings on metal signs were stamped with painfully long words in Deutsch, that only Richtofen could make sense of.

Now they stand in the centre of the grounds, in a courtyard. A wide elevated steel platform stands a small distance away, with stairs leading up to a large machine, somewhat resembling the teleporter they had just been thrown into. Connected to the contraption were three chunky electrical cables, adorned with thick icicles along their length, which separated and lead to three mainframe facilities equal distance from each other. What they were connected to was as good as anyone’s guess.

Questions began to rattle around their heads as they observed their surroundings.

“Where are we German?” The Russian growled.

If Nikolai were to lock eyes with the Doctor, his deadly glare would kill him. But instead, Takeo eyed the German suspiciously, waiting for his predictable short-handed answer.

“We have arrived at a research facility.” Richtofen answered, as simply as predicted. “On the outskirts of Eastern Germany.”

The girl side-eyed him in disdain. His will to speak simply, almost like he was dimming down his intelligence to match that of the rest of the crew, or his frequent use of compulsive riddles and metaphors was already driving her mad, and she had only known him for a month or so.

Although now that time travel was brought into the equation, she could have very well known Richtofen for an eternity after discovering that shifting timelines and potentially re-writing history was entirely possible.

“What are we doing here, Richtofen?” She asked flatly.

All eyes landed on her when she spoke but flicked to the German when he shifted on his feet.

“I- We need to collect something.” Richtofen stammered, his eyes widening slightly.

The small slip up of his words raised wariness instantly, especially in Nikolai and Takeo for they narrowed their gazes at him in sync.

It fell eerily silent as all four pairs of eyes stared down the German, intimidating him as they all awaited a follow up speech explaining just what he needs to “collect”.

When he had no indication of opening his mouth to speak, Richtofen took a step forward, only to be brought to a halt when the barrel of Nikolai’s shotgun came mere inches from his chest before he could even blink.

“Explain why you have brought us here, German. You’ve been feeding us nothing but riddles!” Nikolai’s accent thickened, lacing his words with a menacing tone in his burst of rage.

Dempsey, Takeo and (Y/n) stepped up alongside the Russian, but none wanted to console the brute, instead believing he was right in resorting to a more threatening manner of interrogation. Richtofen raised his hands up in feeble surrender, his chest heaving as he stared down the thick barrel of the gun aimed at him.

“I can explain in time.” Richtofen answered hastily. “That I promise.”

Nikolai shook his head, his jaw setting in a sharp line. “I’ve heard that one to many times already. I do not believe you have any good intentions.”

The Russian adjusted his stance, planting his feet firmly on the ground, his gloved finger grazing the trigger on his gun, prepared to put a bullet in his chest without a second thought.

(Y/n) could have sworn she saw a plead for mercy in Richtofen’s usually dull eyes, hoping he can be granted some leeway, and a chance to move without the men of the group virtually always breathing down his neck, for he stared between her and the weapon threatening him rather quickly.

Perhaps not this time.

While (Y/n) had been lenient in the beginning, simply following him blindly as a means of keeping everyone alive, however, it now seems that she’s growing just as impatient as the boys. Richtofen had certainly foreseen this.

“Alright, easy now.” The girl intervened with a firm voice, her hand reaching to lower the shotgun Nikolai held. “We know that killing each other isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

Visibly infuriated, and practically steaming from the ears with boiling rage, Nikolai huffed loudly and retracted from the group, allowing Richtofen to lower his hands and exhale a long breath.

The girl dismissed the way the Doctor stared at her for a second, and instead focused on Nikolai in concern, albeit even wary of his next move.

His broad shoulders noticeably rose and fell with every heaving breath he took as he simmered down the fiery rage within him.

She could understand his dramatic actions for the world was flipped upside before their very eyes in a matter of seconds, and at this very moment in time, any action, no matter how drastic, could be deemed as justified.

Just when everything seemed tranquil, the sound of glass shattering made all unleash their firearms.

Staggered footsteps across icy ground emitted a small distance away, gradually growing closer. A stumbling decomposing corpse hauled itself through a beaten down wooden barrier. Yet another fallen soldier to have become a victim to the brain-rotting infection. But it seemed lost. Although it appeared to have retained some memory of marching; as the man would have done alongside his platoon before the outbreak.

Though given the unpredictability of the zombie, all but one keeps their weapons aimed steadily.

From what the girl could tell from discreet glances, Richtofen appeared to be studying the creature, or perhaps he was awaiting its next violent move. She had learned that he was not an easy man to read, at least not through his expressions, for he typically appeared emotionless.

She missed the way the Doctor rolled his eyes and swiftly breezed past the crew with his arm raised and pistol loaded to gun the zombie down with a single bullet its head.

With a heft thud, the lifeless creature dropped to the floor, the heap of snow its head landed in now absorbing the blood pouring from the gaping hole in its skull.

Richtofen holstered his pistol, turning to face the group looking utterly unimpressed when he was met with four scorned faces.

“I would simply suggest killing them when you see them.” He instructed blankly. “Research shows that they do in fact sense presence sooner or later.”

Silence enveloped once again, and (Y/n) felt herself shivering as the wind whisked through much stronger than before, creating an eerie whistle as it crawled through crevices in buildings. Her intolerance to the cold failed to go unnoticed as Richtofen witnessed her body quiver, and she pulled her coat snugly to her body.

“We must not waste time. There is much to be done.” Edward asserted, wanting nothing more than to hasten his own mission.

As much as the Doctor tried to ignore the thought, he wished to get the girl somewhere warmer, or at least direct her there if he could not escort her himself. He would not dare to admit that part of him felt a fondness for her, especially for her will to seek justice between the crew.

“Might I also suggest we search for supplies.” Richtofen added. “I’m sure we’ll be needing them.”

As if his queue to leave, Richtofen spun on his heel and made his way towards the central facility.

Dempsey made a hasty move to follow the German, but a light touch of a hand pressing to his arm had pulled him to an abrupt stop. He turned, only to be met with a look of annoyance from the girl.

He immediately opened his mouth to argue before she raised her hand to halt his words.

“I think we should leave him be.” She spoke generally.

The American stared at her in disbelief. “You’re gonna let him run off?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s not gonna run off.”

Dempsey’s hands flew out beside him in confusion and frustration. “Then what- “

Cutting him off swiftly, she declared, “If he doesn’t separate from us for a while, I think he’ll get killed.”

(Y/n) discreetly motioned to Nikolai with her eyes, who had his back turned at the time, prompting Dempsey to scoff and shake his head in annoyance, knowing very well that she was correct.

As flakes of snow fluttered down into her eye view, she peered upwards, sensing an impending snowstorm brewing above. Takeo had followed her gaze skyward, thinking just the same as clouds tumbled in thicker, hiding away the stars that barely glimmered in the evening sky.

“I’m gonna go look for supplies.” She told, wanting nothing more than to find somewhere warmer to roam.

Like her feet carried her away automatically, (Y/n) turned her back and began traipsing carefully over the snow towards a building. The doors to the main entrance virtually inviting her in as they were wide open.

Barely two seconds had passed before Dempsey’s cocky accent caught up to her.

“Woah woah, you’re not going alone missy.”

She could hear the way he spoke with a smirk on his face, and faced him immediately, quipping. “What? You don’t think I can handle myself?”

Tank’s eyes widened subtly upon sensing the stares from Takeo and Nikolai. (Y/n) couldn’t help the way she bit her lip in amusement as the American visibly regret his choice of words and fumbled to find a believable excuse.

But little did she know that Nikolai had turned away slightly to hide the way he smirked to himself, not wanting to have Dempsey bark at him in retaliation to finding his visible embarrassment amusing, but also, secretly, because of the way she held herself in that very moment. With her hand on her hip, almost proudly, as the corner of her lips curled up smugly. It made his heart skip a beat.

“What- No!” Tank breathed a faint awkward laugh, averting his eyes. “I just think we should stick together.”

(Y/n) shrugged. “Very well then, we’ll go in pairs. We can cover the grounds quicker.”

The three men perked up instantly, eyeing her attentively.

“Feel free to join me, but I’ve gotta get somewhere warm before I freeze to death.” She resumed walking away, this time much quicker as the cold air was nipping at her through her coat.

The trio exchanged blank glances, silently questioning whether to follow her footsteps. Yet not one of them dared to move, even though the girl had already entered the building.

That was until Nikolai wasted no time in taking a step forward, his boots imprinting the settled snow as he swiftly headed in the same direction as (Y/n).

In his wake, Nikolai left two men frustrated, with Dempsey visibly turning his nose up at the fact that the Russian had beat him to the same idea.

“That settles it then.” Dempsey grumbled, trudging past Takeo displeased. “Let’s just search this damn place.”

---

Hefty footsteps emitted behind her in a hasty manner, although not like the jagged pattern of a zombie. Despite how quick the person was walking; their steps had a steady pattern. She glanced over her shoulder, brows raised, only to be struck with surprise upon seeing the Russian following her path. She smiled politely when he reached her side, to which she earned the same in return.

“I was half expecting to see Dempsey behind me.” She admitted.

Nikolai couldn’t help the lie that slipped from his tongue. “He had agreed to pair with Takeo.”

(Y/n) nodded, oblivious to the fact that Nikolai was merely eager to join her.

Standing side-by-side, together they surveyed the room. From its spacey layout, and the huge vents surrounding a furnace central of a partially walled off section, it could be guessed that it was none other than a storage room, or perhaps a place that materials were discarded and burned for ashes littered the feet of the caged firepit. She couldn’t refrain from spluttering and covering her nose at the putrid smell that wafted from the furnace, one would assume the previous occupants were incinerating bodies what with such a foul smell.

A few crates and barrels lie on their sides, some of their contents spewed out and trampled across the floor, most of which were papers, scrapped rusty components, and bullet shells. Upon closer inspection, (Y/n) surmised that the bullets were splayed recently for not a drop of dirt covered one, and Nikolai had noticed this too.

“There was bloodshed here recently.” Nikolai thought aloud, moving forward a few steps.

(Y/n) hummed. “But the question is, where these people killing each other, or zombies?”

The thought of an army, once forged together by loyalty and discipline, turning on each other utterly driven to madness as the world collapsed, and people turned to flesh-eating murderers before their very eyes.

“I dread to think of it.” Nikolai responded, watching the girl as she crouched to view a crumpled sheet of paper.

Steel catwalks above their heads creaked and popped as the wind breezed through holes in the doors and walls, nudging its every obstacle with vengeance what with the force it was brewing up. Parts of the structure had already fallen from its rightful place, lying in piles of debris in random areas, the building being entirely torn apart by the harsh weather alone.

“We best not stay here too long.” Nikolai told. “My guess is that this place will be nothing but rubble before we know it.”

A fairy-light clink hit their ears, and as if ironically on queue a bolt from an overhead beam hit the floor, bouncing astray into a pile of ash. The pair locked eyes warily at the timing.

“Let’s see if there’s anything useful and get out of here.” (Y/n) urged.

Nikolai nodded and began his own deconstructive way of searching.

Little time had passed, and they had each found a great supply of fresh ammunition to be shared amongst the crew. Not being able to carry such a heavy amount of munitions between them means they resorted to shifting the supply crates to an area more safely accessible, for the crew to return to instead.

While (Y/n) had her hands elbow deep in a crate, she pondered on the earlier encounter with a raging Nikolai in the courtyard. His seething expression and merciless intentions to kill Richtofen remained permanently in her mind.

Knowing that she doesn’t fear the Russian in the slightest, for he has shown nothing but loyalty and kindness to her throughout the few weeks of knowing him, more so than he has shown anyone else, (Y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if Nikolai would have followed through with his drastic intentions if she had not intervened.

She looked his way, catching the way he swiftly averted his eyes to the crate he stood searching, taking herself aback when she felt her heart skip a beat.

Pushing away the thought of the mere instance, she called out to him. “Nikolai?”

The gentle way his name sounded when it fell from her lips made his rounded eyes met hers, prompting her to speak but the words were lodged in her throat as his eyes captivated and shimmered in the dim light the furnace glowed.

“You know I don’t blame you for nearly killing Richtofen earlier.” She declared with all sincerity.

However, the Russian scowled instantly.

(Y/n) watched as Nikolai drew in a deep breath, pressing his palms to the edge of the wooden crate.

“Richtofen is beginning to test my patience. What with all his riddles…” He told in his gruff voice.

“Tell me about it.” She muttered, fiddling with a bullet she had picked up.

“But I fear we are descending into madness by following his orders.” He admitted. “And I’m finding it nearly impossible to have any ounce of faith in his intentions.”

Something about the way Nikolai held himself in that moment struck her strange. He began to softly drum on the crate, his lips pressing into a line when he turned his attention back to the equipment before him. It seemed like there were words on the tip of his tongue, yet he could not allow them to fall past his lips.

(Y/n) chewed the inside of her cheek, staring blankly at the bullet she held, ruminating on his words.

“Do you believe that Richtofen has good intentions?” Nikolai blurted out.

The girl instantly locked eyes with him, noticing how serious he looked with such a hard-faced expression. His question made her ponder for a minute.

“I can’t say.” She answered truthfully. “He’s acting suspicious, that’s for sure. And God knows what he’s up to right now.”

Nikolai only nodded, acknowledging her.

“But let’s just get on with what we need to do. I’m already tired of stressing about his next move.”

Something sent a pang of guilt through the Russian. If the girl had not turned her eyes away, she would have seen the pitiful look on his face.

(Y/n) huffed and tossed small components back into the crate, walking briskly past Nikolai, and over to a smaller one yet to be searched on the opposite side of the room.

Another clink of a falling screw went unheard of as her footsteps overpowered the faint tap of metal hitting the ground. That was until the piercing sound of steel screeching, peeling away from the lengthy catwalk above their heads, a support beam overhead came barrelling down at an alarming speed driving terror straight through her as she froze beneath the collapsing structure.

She opened her mouth to scream, but she was voiceless.

Two hands gripped her sides firmly and dragged her out from under the beam’s line of fall, to which the enormous steel bar slammed to the floor with a deafening clang, rattling and shaking every inch of the building upon impact.

Riddled with sheer terror, the girl could not control the way she collapsed into the body of someone.

Nikolai almost toppled at the quick pace he moved, his back connecting harshly with the wall and audibly knocking the air from his lungs, his arms remaining locked around the girl in his arms.

Subconsciously, (Y/n) had pressed her palms to his chest to break her fall, and while still unable to comprehend such a flash of events, her mouth hung agape as she panted heavily. She could barely register a thing, feeling a dizzy sensation as she stared at Nikolai, her face full of fright at the thought of being crushed.

The Russian was worried that she could feel the way his heart was beating like a banging drum at such sudden closeness, but when her eyes dropped to see her hands planted firmly just below his shoulders, she came to her senses and almost jumped back out of embarrassment.

“O-oh my god, I’m sorry!” (Y/n) began to fret, adrenaline still rushing through her, causing such jittery movements.

She snapped around to observe the wreckage of the catwalk, that was once situated above their heads, now in a heap of itself, entirely blocking an exit route from the building.

“Are you alright?” Nikolai’s deepened voice called to her in pure concern.

When (Y/n) turned, she saw his face contoured with stress, and a hand readied to place on her shoulder, however, stopping himself when she nodded with a heavy sigh. She planted her hands on her hips, letting her head bow and eyes fall shut as she calmed herself.

“Thank you, Nikolai.” She breathed, wiping a hand over her face. “I owe you one.”

However, his face was flushed red as the thought of being so close together remained permanently etched into his mind. Unbeknownst to Nikolai, (Y/n) wouldn’t dare lock eyes with him, feeling the same embarrassment and awkwardness of being pressed so tightly to someone she hardly knew.

Neither of them could bring themselves to move as awkwardness was eating them up inside.

As if relieving them of the tense situation, Dempsey, tailed closely by Takeo, barged through the doorway atop the stairwell nearby, out of breath and clutching rifles tightly.

“We’ve got company.” Dempsey informed loudly, his voice gruff and stern. “Get your asses out here.”

Apparently, the crashing noise was enough to alert the stray undead swarms nearby, for they were filtering in through any access point possible, with some of them even tearing of their own decaying limbs as they came through or impaling themselves on broken barricades.

Equipping their weapons swiftly, (Y/n) bolted for the stairs that lead to a vantage point, with Nikolai tailing behind. She breezed past Dempsey, and took position beside Takeo, who had found excellent position that allowed for quick and easy shots to the heads of zombies.

With the team regrouped the hordes were cleared strangely fast. Typically, swarms came in frequent waves, virtually endless, but this time the air stilled. Not a groan or cry was heard from a zombie around. Even some of the boys moved to peer through open barriers, surveying the area, but they soon reeled themselves back to the group with their brows knit in confusion.

“Strange.” Takeo spoke aloud in his husky voice. “The land is silent.”

(Y/n) acknowledged Takeo and hummed in agreement, both vigilantly looking over their shoulders for approaching danger.

“So, did you guys find anything?” She asked, filtering her attention between the other pair.

Tank shrugged, looking a bit defeated. “A little. Couple cans of food, but that’s about it. This place is deserted if you ask me. We ain’t gonna find much.”

(Y/n) sighed in disappointment, the idea of a delicious homecooked meal seemed so far out of reach. She’s certain the men craved something more than just a measly can of beans, and even then, it’s typically shared amongst the five of them, barely subsidising the painful hunger.

Clicking of a gun being reloaded sounded. It was Dempsey loading his sidearm. While keeping his focus on what he occupied himself with, he spoke.

“What about you? Find anything?”

A response was on the tip of her tongue, but her own mind caught her off guard, teasing the image of her body pressed against Nikolai’s, and the way his gorgeous blue eyes stared deeply into her own. Vividly recalling the way his large, gloved hands rested softly on her sides, supporting her knees that dared to buckle under the weight of embarrassment. She felt her hands begin to clammer up at the intrusive thought, wiping them subconsciously on her coat.

When (Y/n) never responded, Dempsey’s little task in his hands halted as he peered through his eyebrows at her.

“We found stashes of ammunition, but not much else.” Nikolai had interjected.

Mentally, the girl thanked him for taking the words she failed to speak, however, feeling more awkward when she saw Dempsey eyeing her suspiciously.

Starling her, Takeo breezed past silently, moving to a cracked glass window that overlooked the storage room. Apparently something had caught his attention from afar. He observed the sight of the wreckage of the fallen catwalk; it certainly stuck out compared to the feeble clutter in the room.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the way her feet carried her towards him.

Sensing that she was standing a small distance from him, Takeo spoke.

“We heard a crash on the opposite side of the facility. Was it this?”

Takeo sounded so genuine, strangely. His speech was typically blunt and didn’t have much change in low tones.

“It was the catwalk that collapsed. The place is falling apart at the seams.” She answered briefly.

Takeo nodded in acknowledgment. He had suspicions that the rumbling noise of steel landing with such a mighty force had alerted the chaotic number of undead creatures.

(Y/n) stared blankly at the structure below, somewhat in a daze when she confessed. “I was standing underneath it when it fell.”

Dempsey and Takeo pivoted to face the girl simultaneously, their shoulders visibly tensed and eyes almost bulging.

Snapping back to her senses, she forced a smile as she quickly reassured, “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Both relaxed in sync, breathing relieved sighs.

“But I have to say that I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for Nikolai pulling me out of there.” She told, looking at the Russian sincerely. “I really owe him one.”

In that moment she hoped that the frosty air nipping at her skin had already tinted her cheeks a rosy hue, for she could feel a burning fluster rising from her chest. A smile threatened to tug at Nikolai’s lips as he glanced her way.

No one had seen Dempsey’s eyes practically burning fire as he snapped a dirty look towards Nikolai.

“Alright, enough with the sappy ‘who saved who’s life’ shit now.” Dempsey blurted out bitterly. “We’ve got shit to do.”

Thudding footsteps followed as Dempsey stormed off out of the building with his assault rifle under a mighty grip and chest puffed in hot rage. Takeo looked to (Y/n) who stood tall by Nikolai, only to be scrutinising the Russian with his intensive eyes before stalking out with a huff.

The girl knit her brows in confusion.

It could be said that Dempsey was known for his ability to lose his temper quickly, and few times she had seen his anger get the better of him, but Takeo’s strange reaction struck her differently. She had never seen him give anyone, but Richtofen, such a fierce glare.

“What was that about?” (Y/n) asked, sounding somewhat bewildered.

Nikolai swallowed hard, struggling to muster a response when she looked at him with beady eyes, hoping for an answer.

Unfortunately, the Russian knew all to well just what sparked Dempsey and Takeo to be so infuriated, with him only.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say they seemed jealous.” She spoke aloud.

Oh, but how jealous they were, and that’s only the beginning of it.

#cod zombies #tank dempsey #edward richtofen #nikolai belinski #takeo masaki #call of duty zombies #codz #codz x reader #call of duty

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fingerless-glovez · 11 months ago

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College au part 2

Guy

• Majoring in political science and government

• Genuinely interested in politics, just isn't as intense about it as Roc

• Wants to be friends with people but Roc said "no"

• Not like most people want to be real friends to him anyway, especially not in his course

• Is currently being pressured to accept a political marriage, but would rather marry for love (sap)

• Jasper is the only one who understands

Dia

• Majoring in botany

• Attends all of his classes virtually

• Has a mushroom farm in his room

• He sings to them to help them grow. Aquia is sworn to secrecy about it

• Has Lou wrapped around his finger

• Found a snake in the bushes, named it Linos, and it is now his pet. Lou was unsuccessful in convincing him to put Linos back outside

• Is this grounds for expulsion? Yes. Does Lou expel him? Nope. Why? Because Dia is why

Sherry

• Majoring in human resources services

• Wants to create more positive workplaces, especially for women

• The only mentally stable person in this goddamn school

• Student council president (thanks, chirp!)

• Ya gurl beat out both Guy and Toa, who were competing for the position and tied for runners-up

• Probably helps that she had the power of baked goods (and Grayson's supervision) on her side

Aquia

• Majoring in botany

• Works at a flower shop

• Poor boy just wants to make friends and study plants but everyone just wants to use him to get in with Guy

• Lack of familial affection go brrr

• Roc doesn't give a shit about his younger sons

• Guy is always busy and has no interest in Aquia's life

• Rahm is too busy trying to make Aquia Roc's successor to notice that he clearly doesn't want to be in politics and loves his brother too much to take his dreams

• Zev is the only one who keeps in regular contact with him, but he's more interested in telling him all about his problems with class, homework, girls, y'know, typical high school stuff. He also asks a lot about how Guy is doing before taking any interest in Aquia

• Fluent in Floriography (language of the flowers)

• Tends to the garden on the school roof at night

• Rio runs into him up there and notices how well cared for the flowers look, and also that Aquia is really sad. They are now gardening buddies

Jasper

• "Majoring" in hospitality

• Isn't actually here to further a career. Roc sent him with Guy as a spy to make sure no one is plotting to sabotage either Guy or the family as a whole

• Works at the same bar as Lance

• NOT a r**ist, and he does NOT do that shit he did in his consort route

• He just listens in on conversations while making drinks (that have NOT been drugged or spiked in any way) and serving people

• He's that one asshole that corrects people's grammar when they text him

• If you don't text like you're writing a government document he will copy your message and correct it

Violet: is anyone free on saturday. i accidentally bought an extra movie ticket and mc fenn and sherry said there all gonna be busy

Jasper: *Is anyone free on Saturday? I've accidentally bought an extra movie ticket, and MC, Fenn and Sherry said they're all going to be busy.

Jasper: I'll be available on Saturday. What movie are we seeing?

Violet: Die.

• May or may not be fucking Guy and Fenn on the side, who knows

Violet

• Majoring in fashion design

• Doesn't care for the designs you would see at a Met Gala and knows how to create things that are good looking and practical but also unique

• Also makes her own accessories

• MC is her usual model

• Met Fenn in high school

• Apparently the guy she'd been dating was two-timing her with Fenn. She was super mad at him at first, but Fenn offered to help dish out some revenge

• He's her wingman and shoulder to cry on when she gets rejected

• Regular at Lance and Jasper's bar

• She dated Jasper for a while until realized he was using a fake identity to spy on her and her friends, and she's hated his guts ever since

• The only reason she still talks to him is because they're in the same friend group as the other valets

• If Jasper corrects her grammar in the group chat one more time, she's stealing his glasses and replacing his normal pens with invisible ink pens. Then we’ll see how good his grammar is

Tino

• Majoring in hospitality

• Works part-time at his family's hotel

• He and Lynt have been best friends since childhood because their fathers are also friends and business partners

• He used to "help" Lynt with all his school work (did most of it for him). He can't really do that anymore since they’re in different majors

• Gets Lynt out of bed every morning. And makes dinner every night. And cleans the dorm. And does the dishes...

• Okay, Lynt does eventually start picking up the slack when he realizes the ungodly amount of work Tino does

• This boy has not had a full night's sleep since the 3RD GRADE

• Like bro do you need to cram every single night?

• Half the time he passes out at his desk studying. Sometimes he'll fall asleep in a common room or something, and someone has to take him back to his room

• It is because of this that Lynt has taken special interest in researching insomnia

• Has to be dragged out by the valets to take a break from doing literally everything all the time

Tino: "B-But I have to study for my skills test-"

Knight: "You mean your skills test that's 3 months away and you've been cramming for since you started the course? Dude, you need a life and you're coming to the arcade with us."

• Definitely got shoved into his locker in high school

• That's what he gets for trying to mind his own business and not bother anyone in a fucking high school

Lou

• Headmaster of the academy

• Has a Ph.D in education

• Is fully aware that he has several politicians' children in his school and that he's being spied on

• Guess what? He's spying on them, too

• He's part of a political party called Iritium and is gathering information on his competition through their children

• Guy, Toa, and Lance's rooms are bugged with microphones. He knows Christoph is living with Lance, but to avoid raising suspicion, he doesn't do anything about it yet

• He's still debating whether or not to bug Aquia's room because Dia is his roommate and he'd rather not invade his privacy

• Prank wars are common at the academy, but he has reigned as prank king since his own school years and he refuses to be dethroned

• Has two doves in his office, Phinney and Nix

• There have been many occasions where someone would pass by his office and see him having a full conversation with them

• He once argued with Phinney while MC sat right across from him. He lost

#court of darkness #guy avari #dia akedia #sherry invidia #jasper lane #violet muller #tino maes #court of darkness lou

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author-by-night · 2 months ago

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So you want to write about swords…

I’ve been reading Tamora Pierce books with my boyfriend, and it’s got me in my trap card again about what different swords are.

Despite what some sword nerds will say there really is no absolute / concrete taxonomy of swords. Especially in history, different styles of swords were highly contextual to different cultures and didn’t often need to be described super specifically or told apart. But when we’re writing, especially writing western fantasy, and we have a wealth of cool swords that we want to describe to an audience so that they sound distinct… then we need to have a ballpark idea what we’re talking about at least with the more commonly appearing ones. So.

Arming Sword / Shortsword

What the overwhelming majority of white people think of when you say “sword.” Also, unfortunately, what most white people (and tabletop systems) think of when you say “longsword,” which is just not correct.

These are one handed double edged blades with a cruciform guard, what an archetypical knight wields alongside a shield. Good for thrusts and cuts, very versatile. A good length for them is one where you can swing the sword straight down without hitting the ground.

For more specific swords that basically also fit in this category see: gladius, spatha, viking swords.

Bastard Sword

What most people who don’t think an arming sword is a longsword think is a longsword… and they’re still mostly wrong. Some people will even use this to mean something bigger than a longsword… which is even less correct.

Think of these as the shortstop between arming swords and actual longswords. They’re often also called hand-and-a-half swords, the idea being that they’re meant to be a flexible weapon that can be wielded effectively in one hand or two. The funny thing is, while most people use these to signify that a character is big and strong and edgy they are specifically a smaller and lighter cousin of the longsword.

Longsword / Claymore

Yes these are basically the same thing. This is by far the most flexible category of sword, though, so nailing down what one is can honestly be kinda tricky.

The crux is this: longswords are generally meant to be two handed weapons. Don’t listen to D&D, it lies to you. If you want the best picture look up “German longsword” or “Italian longsword” or “HEMA.” You’ll get the idea of how they were fought with. Disambiguate them from arming swords in your mind. If it’s paired with a shield (or really anything) it’s an arming sword. Longswords are bigger than you think and every guard I’ve learned with them has needed both hands.

And seriously if you remember nothing else here remember that a Claymore is just a longsword in Scottish font.

Greatsword / Zweihander

Get the image of Cloud Strife out of your head. These were not, and I can’t stress this enough, meant for dueling. They’re what you come at a pike formation with. They were handled more like polearms than swords. Generally speaking they just exist much harder in fiction than they ever did in history… but also the concept is really cool so who cares. Beeg chonk sword. Yaaaaay.

For the wacky wavy version, see “flamberge.”

Broadsword

These. Are not. Longswords. Or bastard swords. Literally they’re “rapier but thicc.” They have a basket hilt, they’re made for fencing, they’re just chonkier than other fencing swords. This one is easily the one I see misused the most because people use it to mean “lorge sword” when in actuality they are relatively small. They’re just heavyweights for a fighting style which is still geared around being light, fast, and virtually unarmored.

Rapier

We all pretty much know this one. Skinny double edged blade with a fancy hilt meant to be wielded in one hand. Good for cutting, better for stabbing. While almost no one gets confused on what it is though, there’s one common misconception about what it does.

I’ll put it this way: if seeing someone with a longsword is like seeing someone with a hunting rifle slung over their shoulder, seeing someone with a rapier is like seeing someone with a beretta tucked into their waistband.

Too many stories have big chunky dumb dumbs seeing a rapier and going “haw haw look at that little toad sticker.” No. A rapier means you definitely have money and most likely a lot of training. There is no chance you are a working stiff like a soldier, a mercenary, or a guard. Rapiers are for killing people in the street or on a dueling ground. This is one of the most intimidating weapons someone can be carrying.

Saber / Cutlass

Basically everyone knows sabers: curved fencing swords, occasionally with a fancy hilt. Mostly these were for soldiers, especially cavalry where their cutting capability has a great advantage.

The cutlass is pretty much that moved down a tax bracket. They’re relatively cheap, single edged, useful for things like cutting rope and thus often seen on ships. Often these were self defense weapons.

Falchion

An elegant weapon for elves and stuff, right?

Well… no. Try a self defense weapon for the lower class, not unlike a cutlass. Single edged, not usually curved or especially interesting, really. Though fantasy authors love handing these to graceful fighters and the name sounds rad as heck they’re basically just a big cleaver. See also the messer and the seax / langseax.

Very, very often confused with the falcata or the falx to the point that all three sort of get mixed together when they’re actually very distinct. (Personally, I think the falcata is the coolest.)

For writing purposes… think hard about how you want to use these. Curved swords that don’t mean “pirates” or “elves” are often handed off to non-white people when in fact all of these three are weapons from western civ, ranging from Rome to middle Europe. They’re not fancy, they’re not that far off from a machete except that their primary use is as a weapon rather than a tool, and if anything they curve forward not back.

Scimitar

Did you mean: Shamshir?

A curved sword that odds are you are too white to be writing about. See also the kilij, the talwar, the saif.

If you don’t immediately know what these swords are then odds are the best thing they can do by popping up in your story is alert you that you need to do more research to write the culture you’re trying to write without being accidentally racist.

Katana

A single edged Japanese sword that was neither folded a thousand times nor was it made of special super awesome steel. The optional groove in the back is called a fuller and it has nothing to do with blood, it just makes the blade lighter and sturdier. It’s not inherently master crafted, just historically the forging technique was unique and interesting and involved differential hardening. It’s great at cutting. If one shows up in your story and you aren’t Asian, you’re probably a weeb. Take it from someone who was a teenage weeb, and see my previous note about cultural research.

Bonus Round: Weight

If you made it this far I have one last gripe and I want you to spread the word: swords are not heavy. Every time I read about a noodle-armed protag struggling to lift a sword I want to scream. The average weight of a historical zweihander—the swords so big they’re used as polearms—is about 5lbs. There are books heavier than that. Unless the sword in your story is made of tungsten for some reason there is no reason it should be hard to heft. Tiring to fight with? Sure. But swords aren’t made to be cumbersome and acting like one can’t wield them at all without doing a whole montage about it first looks really silly to anyone with even a passing familiarity with fencing… which will be a sizable chunk of your audience.

#swords #fantasy #writing #ttrpg #roleplay

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almightytuba · 11 months ago

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I’ve been putting this post off for a while now but it’s becoming increasingly more important as the situation progresses.

I have been a part of the NanoWriMo YWP for four years now. I joined at a generally bad time and found some wonderful companions via the site. In my years there I have made connections, found community, improved and renewed my love for writing. That is not to say that the experience was entirely good, however. I will be forever grateful for the friends I’ve made and the outlet it gave me in rough times but I have been left disgusted overall by the site.

This site is promoted for anyone under 18, the forums available to anyone 13-18. The program is not only readily available with no moderation as to verifying users (allowing for many spam accounts and ‘backups’, as I will address in a moment) but is promoted in schools nation-wide. Without any protection and moderation on a global site, the YWP creates a breeding ground for predatory behavior in a place advertised towards children and teens. It’s my firm belief that yes, the YWP is a fantastic concept- most teens are not able to find supportive communities or allowed to express themselves and the site acts as such, This is a horrifying notion but it’s realistic when children are continuously and purposely overlooked for the purpose of ‘saving face.’ The YWP has done exactly that. It has failed not only me, but my friends, teachers, and schools.

I have been present for a mere fraction of the garbage the site allows to fester within it. I cannot speak from experience in all events but what I can speak for with certainty, I will.

1- Predators and predatory behavior. One of the greatest flaws of the site is that what could have been avoided genuinely avoided if its users taken seriously or given an ounce of respect. Predators being allowed to run rampant is not in the least new to the site and it’s almost entirely up to its users to keep themselves safe. Mods have continued to err on the side of perpetrators. Perhaps if this happened once, it could be excusable by some great reach- but this is repeated behavior from the people entrusted to the site. Time after time I have engaged in “flagging battles”- the only thing users have virtually with no in-site blocking system- against users telling teens to kill themselves, to doxx themselves, to engage in sexual activities. Let me remind you that YWP is a writing site for children- and if accounts can that simply lie about their age, I can assure you there are users younger than the 13 minimum roaming around the site.

2- Harassment and bullying. As I said above, anyone can make an account. This includes troll/spam accounts, and sheer amount of repeat offenders on the site is repulsive. In the rare case mods do anything about what occurs in-site (rather than ban users that are self-moderating and genuinely trying to help), users are just able to make a new account. The sheer amount of times I have seen backup accounts log made for the sake of spamming “KYS” is almost astonishing. I could talk for ages on this; how the same user has come back and perpetuated racism, sexism, homophobia- anything just to ‘piss people off’. The YWP is allegedly a ‘safe space’ for its large queer community and a neurodivergent populous. With this rampant behavior the site only works to perpetuate hate.

3- Moderation. I am aware that this is a subject of controversy, many vocal points screaming out at the YWP- “why don’t you just ignore it if you don’t like it?” And to that I ask you if ignoring a prevalent problem truly makes it dissipate. Although the answer clear, we are still told our anger unjustified or methods fear-mongering. This disgusts me. We are justified. We are allowed to be as vocally angry as we wish because we have been wronged and have virtually no other power to do anything about it.

There are endless ways that the mods have failed us. By refusing to listen to the community they only work to make the space less safe, banning those who speak out and ‘hurt their feelings’ or by kicking dirt over incidents of their own failure. This is non-conducive work and I have no idea how it passed for it for so long.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me.

#nanowrimo ywp #nanowrimo controversy #nanowrimo

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lveclouds · 2 years ago

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↬ pairing/characters: music major dokyeom x nursing major reader, other members will make appearances/be mentioned, some ocs

↬ genre/aus: fluff, heavy angst, college/university au, non idol au, established relationship, long distance relationship

↬ summary: in which dokyeom is always there for you, through the good, bad, and the ugly, even when you’re apart.

↬ rating(s): pg15, nc17 (see warnings)

↬ tw: heavy swearing, mentions of burnout/stress (brief), mentions of alcohol/mild intoxication (reader and the members get a bit tipsy), mentions of breakdowns (very, very brief), reader works in a hospital, dokyeom is also an absolute sweetheart (wbk), mentions of a long distance relationship (brief)

↬ wc: 6.2k

↬ note: hello loves! here is yet another seventeen college au fic :) i absolutely love writing these, and i hope you enjoy reading them <3 also, the title is from a song i’ve been obsessed with lately, and if you can guess what it is, i’ll give you a virtual hug hehe + i also really wanted to write a fluffy, cheesy fic about dorks (affectionate) in love to remind myself that i’m single :’) also, for a visualization of what dokyeom looks like in this fic, think excalibur dokyeom <3

↬ disclaimer(s): i am in no way an expert on medicine/nursing, so aspects of that in this fic may be inaccurate. also, i know nothing about italy, so i apologize for any inaccuracies.

the hospital was a flurry of activity, with nurses flitting about, attending to patients, the obnoxious shrill of the phone ringing every few seconds, no doubt a doctor calling to give yet another order, and patients speaking in low, hushed tones in the waiting room.

you were currently sitting at your small desk amongst the chaos, head throbbing as you typed out a care plan for a patient who had been hospitalized for a few days post surgery.

as soon you finished typing out the last set of instructions, you let out a deep sigh, slumping in your blue desk chair. the past few hours had been absolute hell, with a flurry of patients coming in and out of the hospital, along with a near-mishap with medication.

you felt your heart ache, the way it always did whenever dokyeom drifted to the forefront of your mind. the aforementioned male was currently studying abroad in italy, likely going to fancy restaurants and attending operas every night.

while you were thrilled that your boyfriend had gotten the opportunity to experience and enrich himself in italian culture, you wished that he were back in seoul, no more than a phone call or text away. it was absolute hell to be apart from him, for he was the person who kept you grounded and sane during the long clinical shifts you had throughout the semester.

dokyeom was always there, there to support and comfort you in any way he could. one day, during a particular long shift at the hospital, he had stopped by to bring you a bag full of sandwiches from the cafe on campus, insisting that you eat something before you passed out, knowing that you’d probably forget to eat at work.

then, dokyeom always listened, no matter what. you’d had a terrible habit of rambling and ranting whenever you were stressed or angry, and he would listen attentively, even if it was complete gibberish. he’d always lend you a shoulder to cry on, and was always there to gently wipe away your tears with a tissue or with the soft pad of his thumb, cerulean eyes soft.

you felt your face grow hot, and soon, you were a sobbing, shaking mess, burying your face into your hands, feeling as if your heart was about to crack entirely. it was pathetic, you supposed, to be crying over your boyfriend as if he’d broken up with you, but you couldn’t help it.

sniffling, you hastily wiped your tears away with the back of your hands, feeling utterly pathetic. “y/n, are you okay?” a gentle voice said from behind you. “i’m fine.” you mumbled, trying and failing to keep your voice steady.

you looked over your shoulder to see your best friend, astrid, lingering at the entrance to the nurse’s station, a deep frown etched on her gorgeous face. “you don’t look okay. besides, we’ve been friends for four years now, i can tell when you’re spiraling. what’s wrong?” astrid demanded, albeit gently.

you let out a shaky sigh. “you’ll think it’s stupid.” astrid rolled her eyes. “i bet i won’t. tell me.” before you could stop yourself, the words flooded out of you, and by the time you were done speaking, tears were rolling down your face once again. a beat of silence, and then, “oh, y/n.”

astrid crossed the distance between you in no time, pulling you into a hug, and you melted into her embrace, burying your face in the crook of her shoulder. astrid smelled like the perfume she always wore, amber and lavender, and it was almost comforting and familiar.

“it’s that boyfriend you’re always going on and on about, isn’t it?” you let out a small laugh. “y-yeah.” “do i need to kick his ass or slash his tires? did he cheat on you?” astrid demanded, and you chuckled, shaking your head resolutely. “n-no, he’s just studying abroad in italy, and i.. i just miss him.” “how long has it been since you last saw him?”

“t-three months.” you muttered, feeling your heart ache irrevocably, and felt astrid’s arms tighten around you. “are you able to talk to him at all?”

“n-no, i mean, w-we text and call sometimes, but with our clinical shifts and the time difference, it’s hard.” “how about this? as soon as this awful shift ends, let’s go to that stupidly expensive bar downtown and drink away our sorrows.” “y-yeah, i’d like that.”

italy was quickly becoming one of dokyeom’s favorite places in the world. the food was exquisite and the people were bright and welcoming, but it lacked one thing: his girlfriend.

god, he missed you, more than anything, and you were all he could think about as he attended operas at the teatro alla scalla in milan and teatro la fenice in venice, and while wandering the streets of sicily, admiring rounded balconies and flowery windowsills.

though his time in italy had been nothing short of amazing, having been able to attend many opera shows and enriching himself in the culture and cuisine, dokyeom was a bit homesick. he missed the serenity of his college campus and the sharpness and softness of his mother tongue.

most of all, dokyeom wished that you had gone with him to study abroad. he could imagine the look of awe and delight on your face as you’d take in the flowery windowsills and the noble palaces of sicily, and how you’d urge him to take pictures.

“you okay?” dokyeom snapped out of his mini trance, bringing himself back to reality. he was sitting at a corner table in la casa del caffe tazza d’oro with joshua, one of his friends that’d actually decided to study abroad with him, eyebrows drawn together in concern. “i’m fine, i just miss home. that’s all.”

joshua hummed in agreement, downing the rest of his coffee. “tell me about it. as much as italy has amazed me, i’m craving korean food.” “i also miss y/n.” dokyeom mumbled, hoping he wasn’t blushing as he took a bite of his croissant, feeling the powdered sugar dusted on top melt on his tongue.

joshua’s hazel eyes flashed with understanding. “i miss her too. she’d love it here.” he said wistfully, and dokyeom nodded, feeling his heart ache. i hope she’s eating enough and that she’s holding up okay. “what if we book the next flight out to korea tonight?” dokyeom nearly choked on his croissant.

“w-what?” he stammered, voice a bit hoarse. “we book a flight out to korea tonight. then, in just a few hours, you’ll be reunited with your lovely girlfriend and i can be back in the warmth and safety of my dorm.” joshua declared, hazel eyes bright.

“a-are we even allowed to do this?” dokyeom managed, and the former shrugged. “dunno, but the professors that came with us on this trip are probably too exhausted to care.” “i-i should text y/n then, tell her-” “no.” “w-what?” “surprise her!” joshua exclaimed. “w-would that be a good idea? i mean, she doesn’t really like-” “trust me, she’ll love it.”

dokyeom fought the urge to roll his eyes. “fine, but if she gets pissed at me for it, i’m blaming you.” “go ahead, but promise me, you’ll both thank me later.” “you’re a fucking menace, you know that?” joshua just gave him a smug smile. “sure do.”

that night, you and astrid were at the stupidly expensive bar that you’d discovered during your second year of nursing school, with astrid insisting on paying every time. you were on your second whiskey sour of the night, attempting to drown the stress of nursing school away with alcohol.

astrid had ordered one cocktail, and then had immediately asked for a glass of water, insisting on driving you back to your dorm. as you guzzled down the drink in your hand, you couldn’t help but wonder what dokyeom was doing right now. is he watching an opera show? or maybe he’s already cheated on me with some gorgeous italian model, and- no. what the hell, y/n? stop overthinking everything.

“the shift today was absolutely horrible.” you murmured into your glass, and astrid let out a noncommittal grunt in agreement. “tell me about it, the doctors were being extra naggy today. i mean, we’re not superhuman, we only attend to so many patients at a time.” the doctors at the hospital you worked at were notorious for scolding nurses for the smallest things.

worst of all, most of the doctors at the hospital were predominately male. “i hope they all die alone.” astrid grumbled as she took a sip of her water, crossing one long leg over the other. a comfortable silence fell around you, save for the amicable chatter and soft pop music blaring from the speakers.

“why have you never introduced me to your boyfriend?” astrid asked after a while, arching a perfectly shaped brow, and you felt your cheeks burn.

“is he ugly? does he have a weird fetish or something?” you snorted. “no, he’s not ugly, and no, he doesn’t have any weird fetishes, at least, not that i know of.” astrid fixed you with a thoughtful stare, dark hazel eyes like melted chocolate in the amber lighting of the bar.

“are you ashamed of him?” “w-what? no! i just.. it’s not that i don’t want to introduce him to you, i keep forgetting, i guess.” astrid didn’t look too convinced, but didn’t press further. “ok, but next time he’s in seoul, you better introduce him to me. i need to know if he’s treating you right.” “i will. and don’t worry, astrid, he treats me like royalty.”

a few hours later, you were curled up on your bed, hugging the penguin plushie that dokyeom had won for you at the campus fair last spring, trying and failing to sleep. it’d been exactly two hours since astrid had dropped you off at campus, and you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep.

you had gotten used to curling into his side at night, relishing in the warmth that radiated off his body, and feeling secure and safe in his strong arms, that the feeling of sleeping alone felt almost foreign.

sighing, you closed your eyes once more, trying to will your body to relax, to forget about the lack of warmth beside you, when you heard the front door open. your eyes snapped open. is someone breaking in?

your heart pounded wildly against your chest as you scrambled out of bed, grabbing the wooden baseball bat that dokyeom insisted you keep close by, and quietly tiptoed out of your room and down the hall, grip tightening on the bat in your hands.

you braced yourself for who you’d see in the living room. i really, really hope it’s not an axe murderer. the living room was dark, and yet, you could make out the outline of a figure, tall and broad shouldered, and your heart felt as if it could burst out of your chest at any moment. then, the living room lights flickered on, and you swore your heart stopped at who, exactly, stood a few feet away.

dokyeom was exhausted and extremely jet-lagged from the long flight and was eager to change into comfier clothes and crawl into bed next to you. he had been about to quietly walk to your room when the living room lights flickered on.

dokyeom froze and looked up to see you standing a few feet away, dark hair adorably mussed and clad in a large white shirt, his shirt, and black sweatpants, face bare of your usual makeup, and he thought you had never looked so gorgeous.

he also noticed the baseball bat in your hand, which nearly made him laugh, if it’d not been for the hopeful expression on your face “dokyeom? is that you?” his heart ached at the shakiness in your voice and how your eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

“hi darling, did i wake you?” dokyeom couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth as he opened his arms slightly. “come here.” he mumbled, and you wasted no time, the baseball bat clanging to the floor with a loud thud, running across the carpeted floor and throwing yourself into his arms. dokyeom chuckled softly as you let out a choked sob, burying your face into the crook of his neck, hands bunching the soft fabric of his sweater.

“i missed you.” you blubbered, and dokyeom held you tighter, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “i missed you too love, more than you know.” “h-how are you here?” “you can thank joshua hyung for that. he was the one who suggested we book the first flight back to seoul, and i’m sorry for not telling you, he wanted me to surprise you.”

“remind me to send him a gift basket and an obnoxiously large bouquet of flowers.” you mumbled, and dokyeom huffed a laugh. “i will, and, if anything, i think it’ll boost his already large ego.” that earned him a light smack on the arm. “don’t be rude, kyeom, joshua helped you get back to me, and that’s all that matters. though, you did scare the shit out of me. i thought someone had broken in.”

dokyeom felt his stomach churn with guilt. fuck, im such an idiot. of course you would be scared if you heard the front door open this late at night. “i’m so sorry for scaring you, i didn’t mean to. i just didn’t want to wake you up in case you were sleeping, and it obviously backfired.” you shook your head. “it’s fine, besides, i couldn’t sleep anyway.”

dokyeom frowned. “why not, love?” you murmured something incoherent, and he sighed, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “darling, you need to speak up, i can’t hear you.”

“it’s embarrassing and cheesy as shit. you don’t want to know the reason.” you muttered, and dokyeom could imagine the adorable blush that was likely spreading onto your face. “i think i do, actually. i would like to know why the love of my life hasn’t been able to sleep.” you groaned. “fine. icouldn’tsleepwithoutyou.”

this time, he didn’t fight the grin that spread across his face. “what was that, love? i didn’t quite catch that.” “i couldn’t sleep without you, okay? it’s stupid but i-” “it’s not.” dokyeom reassured you, carding a hand gently through your hair. he felt you melt at the gesture, body going pliant against his, letting out a soft yawn.

“someone’s tired.” dokyeom teased, and the grip on his sweater loosened as you pulled away enough to look up at him. “i had a long day at the hospital, and then my friend astrid and i went out for drinks afterward. and before you ask and act like a mother hen, i only had two drinks. astrid made sure of that.”

dokyeom made a mental note to thank your friend for getting you home safe. “i’m glad she stopped you, or else i would’ve been extremely worried.” you rolled your eyes half-heartedly. “you absolute mother hen, i can take care of myself.” he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your mouth.

“i know, but as your boyfriend, i am contractually allowed to worry about you.” “ok, enough talking, can we please go to bed? i am fucking exhausted.” dokyeom laughed, reaching out and flicking your nose gently. “ok, but only because i know you need your beauty sleep.” that earned him a scowl.

“you may have just gotten home from a long trip, but don’t think i won’t hesitate to let you sleep on the couch.” you said sweetly, and dokyeom bit back an amused laugh. “ok, ok, fine, i’ll stop.” “good.”

then, before you could pull away completely, dokyeom lifted you into his arms, causing you to yelp in surprise, wounding your arms around his neck. “asshole! you could’ve warned me. also, you don’t need to carry me, i am perfectly capable of walking on my own. besides, i’m probably heavy.”

dokyeom shook his head. “first, where is the fun in that? second, i know that you are, but i wanted to carry you. and third, you are as light as a feather. also, have i told you that you look gorgeous in my shirts?” color crept onto your cheeks. “prick.” you groused, and dokyeom laughed. “i love you too.”

getting up for your clinical shift the following morning was the hardest thing you’d ever done. it’d been extremely hard to leave your bed and dokyeom’s warm embrace, but you’d managed. barely.

dokyeom had spent at least fifteen minutes trying to convince you to not to go, looking up at you with a forlorn expression that you were an absolute goner for, and yet you still managed to wiggle out of his arms and head to the bathroom to get ready.

having your boyfriend home after three months apart was an absolute dream, and it’d been an absolute struggle to not jump back in bed, especially after seeing dokyeom’s adorable bedhead, peeking out from underneath the thick comforter.

you left him with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to eat whenever you got time during your shift, and went to your clinical shift, feeling lighter than you had in months. astrid noticed that you were unusually cheery, and of course, demanded to know what had happened overnight that had made you so happy.

you quickly informed her that your boyfriend had come home from italy late last night, and astrid had smiled, caramel eyes glittering with mirth.

“no wonder you’re so cheerful this morning!” she’d exclaimed, swatting at your arm playfully. “you asshole, you should’ve told me that he came home, i would’ve covered for you.” “i would never throw you to the wolves like that. besides, spending time with my boyfriend can wait.”

surprisingly, the morning had been relatively uneventful, with you and astrid attending to only ten patients with mild problems, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, you were almost bored. the hospital wasn’t swamped for once, and the hours seemed to trickle by slowly.

you and astrid were sitting idly at the nurses’ station, with the latter demanding to see a picture of dokyeom, and you were about to show her a selfie he’d sent you a while ago, when a quiet hush fell over the nurses’ station, and you looked up to see dokyeom strolling in through the visitors’ entrance, holding a cup of coffee and a brown paper bag, no doubt filled with pastries.

astrid nudged you in the ribs with her elbow. “is that the boyfriend that you always go on and on about? he’s gorgeous!” she whispered, and you nodded, unable to keep the blush from forming onto your cheeks.

dokyeom, who had probably just gotten out of bed, looked as if he’d just come straight from a photoshoot with vogue, clad in khaki pants that clung perfectly to his lithe figure, white sneakers, a light blue button up with a navy blue sweater vest thrown on top of it, raven hair adorably mussed.

you also noticed that he was wearing black glasses, perched atop his nose, making him look like a young professor. and god, you couldn’t believe that this man was yours. even in the fluorescent lighting, dokyeom still looked breathtakingly gorgeous, dark, curly hair falling over chiseled cheekbones, cerulean eyes near glowing.

“dokyeom!” you called out, ignoring the whispers of the other nurses behind you. aforementioned male turned, and as soon as his gaze landed on you, his face broke out into that gorgeous, charming smile you absolutely adored, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“hi love! i brought you some pastries from the cafe on campus. and since i know you’re going to be here for a while, i may have gone a bit.. overboard.” he said sheepishly, placing the large paper bag and coffee he’d been carrying on the counter.

you beamed up at him once you inspected the contents, heart swelling impossibly in your chest that he remembered that you adored the cafe’s blueberry muffins, and he’d gotten you at least four of them.

not caring who was watching, you leaned across the counter of the nurse’s station and kissed dokyeom’s cheek, which caused the tips of his ears to turn red. “y-y/n, we’re in public! you can’t just kiss me out of the blue like that!” he hissed, color creeping onto his cheeks.

“you do it to me all the time, so take it as payback.” you said simply, reaching for the cup of coffee and taking a light sip. dokyeom’s blush grew deeper as he realized that astrid and your fellow coworkers were watching him intently. you let out an amused laugh.

“guys, don’t scare him off, please.” astrid simply rolled her eyes, while your other coworkers simply fidgeted nervously in their seats. “astrid, meet dokyeom. dokyeom, meet astrid, my best friend and the bane of my existence.” you teased, chuckling at your friend’s scowl.

“nice to finally meet the guy that y/n’s been raving about.” astrid said cooly, sticking her hand out for dokyeom to shake. your boyfriend smiled, inclining his head in a small bow as he shook her hand. “nice to meet you too, y/n’s told me all about you.” astrid grinned. “good things, i hope.”

dokyeom chuckled. “of course.” “thank you for the pastries, do you mind if i share them?” “no, not at all. just make sure to eat, okay? i don’t want you to pass out during your shift.” your heart swelled impossibly, and you leaned across the counter, kissing dokyeom softly.

“i will, i promise. i’ll see you later, love you.” dokyeom smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “love you too.” with a small wave and a wink, he was gone, and you reached into the paper bag for a pastry, pulling out a blueberry muffin and taking a small bite.

your gaze shifted to astrid, who was looking at you in disbelief. “what?” “i cannot believe you didn’t introduce me to your boyfriend sooner! he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever dated, and by the way he looks at you, i can tell that’s utterly besotted. i can see a marriage proposal in your future.”

you nearly choked on your muffin at astrid’s bold declaration. “w-we haven’t even talked about that yet. and we haven’t been together that long, there’s no way he’s-” “trust me, dokyeom’s contemplating marriage. i bet he already has a ring hidden away somewhere.” astrid said, winking playfully, and you felt your cheeks burn.

“d-don’t be ridiculous astrid.” your friend just shrugged, her sleek black bob shifting with the movement. “you’ll thank me later.” you rolled your eyes, taking a light sip of your coffee.

“y/n, can i ask you something?” a voice said from behind you, and you startled, glancing over your shoulder to see one of the new interns, rachel, leaning against her desk chair, lean arms crossed over her chest.

“sure, what is it?” you asked, trying to keep your voice as polite as possible. rachel had never particularly liked you, even though you had been nothing but friendly and forthcoming towards her. astrid insisted that it was because rachel was merely jealous, but you had your suspicions that she just really had a deep hatred for you.

“was that your boyfriend who dropped by?” before you could reply, astrid cut in. “yes, yes it was, what about it, rachel? jealous that y/n has someone to come home to you and you don’t?” rachel scowled, dark eyes blazing.

you cut astrid a glare. cut it out, be nice. astrid’s answering glare was defiant. hell no. “i’m sorry about her,” you began, ignoring your friend’s squawk of protest. “she’s uhm, protective.” rachel rolled her eyes at that. “whatever, all i wanted to know was who that guy was, and now that i know, i can go back to pretending you two don’t exist.”

astrid clapped her hands in mock excitement. “oh goody! y/n and i will do the same! oh, you know what, we’ll do you a favor and rat you out to the higher ups for being a stuck up bitch. better yet, you’ll be so traumatized by it that you’ll never come back and we don’t have to see your hideous face ever again.” “

astrid let out a gasp, hand flying to her mouth in mock surprise. “oh, i’m sorry, did i say that out loud?” despite yourself, you bit back laughter at the way rachel’s nostrils were flaring and how her face was as red as a tomato.

huffing, rachel turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. “you’re the absolute worst.” you giggled, giving astrid’s shoulder a light shove. your friend’s smile was nothing short of smug. “all in a day’s work.”

the rest of your shift was uneventful, with very few patients coming in to the hospital, and doctors seemingly too preoccupied with paperwork or something else to demand nurses be on alert for any emergencies.

“so, i was wondering, would you and your boyfriend be willing to get dinner with me tonight? i think i need to interrogate him a little.” astrid asked as you walked out of the hospital, the cool night air washing over you.

“astrid, the last time you did that, the poor guy was scared out of his wits.” your friend rolled her eyes. “that was one time, and besides, that guy was a piece of shit anyway.” you let out an resigned sigh. “well, you are not wrong about that. also, weren’t you the one who set the date up in the first place?” astrid groaned. “don’t remind me, it was my first and last mistake.”

you had gone out on a date with a guy a few years ago that astrid knew through a mutual friend, and he seemed decent enough, at least, from what astrid had said. in the end, the guy had turned out to be an egotistical and narcissistic piece of shit (astrid’s words), and you were extremely relieved that he did lost interest and decidedly did not ask for a second date.

“i’ll call dokyeom once we’re in the car, ask him if he wants to grab dinner with us. though, i vaguely remember him mentioning a while ago that he wanted to see his friends once he got back from italy.” astrid hummed thoughtfully. “well, if anything, i would love to meet his friends.”

you arched a brow, and color crept onto astrid’s cheeks. “it’s not what you think, okay? i just want to meet some new people, that’s all.” “sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” that earned you a light shove to the shoulder. “i hate you.”

dokyeom hid an amused smile as hoshi’s head fell onto joshua’s shoulder, clearly shit-faced, pale cheeks red from the bottle of soju he’d drank minutes ago. to his credit, joshua didn’t seem to mind, as he continued to converse with vernon, hazel eyes glittering with mirth.

of all his friends, hoshi had the lowest alcohol tolerance, and dokyeom would be lying if the sight of his friend pouting and muttering incoherent words under his breath wasn’t the least bit amusing. the bar, which was about a ten minute commute from campus, had become their usual place to hang out on weekends, especially when there were no classes.

soft pop music was blaring through the bar’s speakers, and dokyeom could barely hear it above the cacophony of the amicable chatter occurring around him, both from other patrons and his friends. across from him, mingyu, the tallest of his friends, was deep in conversation with wonwoo, the latter the picture of quiet calm as he took occasional slips of the beer he’d been nursing for the past hour or so.

seungkwan semed to ranting about something or other, gesturing exuberantly with his hands, while seungcheol simply listened, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. jun and minghao were talking in their native chinese, rapid conversation filling the air.

woozi was slumped on minghao’s left, sipping quietly on the glass of whiskey he’d insisted on ordering, the picture of boredom, though dokyeom knew that he was listening intently to the conversations happening around him. on jun’s right, dino was laughing at something seungkwan was saying, cheeks flushed with red.

you and astrid were giggling about something next to him, downing tequila shots as if they were water. dokyeom internally winced as you knocked back another shot, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, cheeks flushed red.

despite your drunken state and his worry of your terrible hangover the next morning, dokyeom felt his heart warm impossibly.

you were breathtakingly gorgeous, hair tied back into a messy bun atop your head, stray strands falling across your forehead, cheeks flushed from the alcohol you’d consumed, dark eyes glittering with mirth.

you had an effortless, casual beauty that had captivated dokyeom from the minute dokyeom had laid eyes on you on that fateful summer orientation day sophomore year, where students were gathered on the campus grounds, chatting animatedly amongst themselves.

dokyeom had been standing with mingyu on the far left side of the sprawling lawn of their campus, the latter leaning against a tall pine tree, muscular arms crossed over his chest, humming softly to himself. he had allowed his gaze to wander, and felt his breath catch in his throat.

standing just a few feet away, talking animatedly with a tall, slender female with a sleek bob, was easily the most gorgeous female he’d ever seen. there was a casual confidence to you, and dokyeom felt entranced by it.

the mid-afternoon sun bathed you in golden light, turning your dark hair to a caramel brown, and dokyeom swore his pulse quickened at the sight. “go talk to her.” mingyu’s deep voice snapped him out of his trance, and he felt his cheeks burn with shame. “d-don’t be ridiculous, gyu, there’s no way i could ever talk to-”

“y/n!” mingyu called, waving excitedly, and dokyeom just gaped at his friend, feeling utterly betrayed. to his horror, the gorgeous female turned at the sound of mingyu’s deep, loud voice, and the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth was nothing short of captivating.

the gorgeous female bounded over to them, eyes bright with recognition as she glanced at mingyu. “hey, mingyu, it’s been too long! how was your summer?” dokyeom could only stare at his friend in disbelief as he rattled on about the three weeks he’d spent in jeju with his family. “oh, this is my friend, dokyeom. he’s a second year music major.”

the gorgeous female’s gaze had shifted slightly over to him, and dokyeom swore he felt his heart stop. “h-hi. nice to meet you.” he stammered, cheeks burning, and pointedly ignored mingyu’s not-so-subtle smirk. “nice to meet you. dokyeom, right? mingyu’s told me all about you.” she grinned, and dokyeom felt his cheeks burn.

“good things, i hope.” dokyeom managed, and the gorgeous female let out a laugh that sent a shiver down his spine. “i’m y/n, by the way.” y/n. it suits her. it turned out that you had met mingyu at a party last semester, and the two of you had become close friends. “he was drunk off his ass and kept rambling about how you keep bullying him all the time.” dokyeom had scoffed. “i do not, that’s all in his head.”

mingyu had simply rolled his eyes. “sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, i suppose.” you had all but laughed at their petty argument, and dokyeom knew he had fallen, hook, line, and sinker.

“kyeom? are you okay?” dokyeom snapped out of his trance and looked over to see a frown etched on your gorgeous features, despite your drunken state. “i’m fine love, just thinking about the first time we met.” he said, shaking his head softly, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

astrid turned towards dokyeom then, fixing him with a stern look. “dokyeom, do you mind if i ask you a few questions?” he felt his shoulders tense, but managed a small nod. “don’t scare him off please.” you hissed, nudging astrid softly in the ribs with your elbow.

the aforementioned female ignored you. “so, dokyeom, what are your intentions with my best friend?” dokyeom paled slightly. “w-what?” astrid let out an impatient sigh. “when are you planning to propose to her?”

“i-we’ve never really discussed marriage, i mean, we’ve only been dating for two years.” astrid scoffed. “so? it never hurts to plan ahead you know. and you don’t have to get married right away, you know, there’s always engagement.” “astrid-” you began, but the aforementioned female cut you off, shooting you a pointed glare.

“w-well, i have thought about it, proposing to her, i mean, but i was scared to bring it up, i mean we haven’t been dating for that long. i didn’t want to make it seem like i was pressuring her. besides, she already has a lot on her plate, and the last thing i wanted was to add more stress to her life.” dokyeom admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“you should just pop the question now, you know, before i decide to steal her from you.” mingyu cut in, light green eyes sparkling with mischief, and dokyeom snorted.

“don’t even think about it.” the former gave a casual shrug, giving you a playful wink. “i’m just a phone call away if dokyeom breaks your heart.” mingyu said to you, and dokyeom swore you looked like you were holding back a laugh. “i appreciate the offer.” you joked, and dokyeom had never wanted to strangle mingyu more for the smug smirk he sent his way.

“i want to propose, but i just haven’t found the right time, i guess.” dokyeom amended, and astrid nodded. “totally understandable. also, sorry for interrogating you on the spot like that. what i wanted to say was that i really like you, dokyeom, and i can tell that you absolutely adore my best friend. she deserves to be spoiled. also, if you break your heart, i will kick your ass, understood?”

dokyeom paled slightly. “u-understood.” astrid smiled, seemingly satisfied as she knocked back another shot of tequila. “glad we could come to an agreement.” once astrid was occupied with debating with seungkwan about something, he felt a slight tug on the sleeve of his shirt.

he turned to see you looking at him with unshed tears in your eyes. “did you mean it?” you asked, voice hesitant and barely audible over the capochony of the loud and obnoxious laughter of his friends. dokyeom swore his heart nearly melted. “yes, i really do want to marry you one day.”

dokyeom noticed your lower lip quiver, a telltale sign you were about to sob uncontrollably, and panic immediately set in. “love, don’t cry.” he whispered, reaching out and gently wiping away a tear that had managed to escape with the pad of his thumb.

“i love you.” you sobbed, and practically threw yourself into his arms. dokyeom immediately wrapped his arms around you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. “i’m sorry for turning into a sappy, sobby mess when we’re supposed to be having fun.” you mumbled into his neck, and dokyeom couldn’t help the amused chuckle that spilled from his lips.

“it’s okay, love, i’ll always be here for you, remember? even if you’re getting snot and tears all over my favorite shirt.” “i hate you.” you mumbled. dokyeom laughed, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “i love you too.”

a/n: no bc wtf was that ending ugh i can’t write fic endings to save my life apparently :’) anyways i hope you all enjoyed this fluffy fic, because i have another svt fic in the works that is basically pure angst soooo be prepared for that kfsjjljdklf but seriously i adore you all and to those that read my mediocre fics, i love y’all :((( anyways i also have another dokyeom fic in the works, and he’s a prince in that fic hehe

ok bye my loves, its almost one a.m. so i need to sleep lmao till next time <3 also sorry for the inconsistency, ya girl’s a struggling nursing major who has little free time ahaha :)

tagging: @taeyo95 , @skyjoong , @babybreadontop , @playmetheclassics , @shuashong , @saturnyeo + anyone else who wants to read this <3

#mine #seventeen #dokyeom x reader #lee seokmin x reader #this was uhm... something lmao

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bubblesandgutz · 2 years ago

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Every Record I Own - Day 759: Modest Mouse This Is a Long Drive for Someone with Nothing to Think About

It’s been five months since I’ve written one of these album posts, mainly because 2022 was such a busy year. When I made my last album post on August 1st, I was still talking about my favorite albums from 2021. While I enjoy talking about current music, I think I get more enjoyment writing about music that I’ve had plenty of time to sit with, and consequently, I felt like I was running out of things to say about new releases.

I wasn’t sure how to dip my toes back into this project. Then on New Year’s Eve I got the news that Jeremiah Green passed away.

I’m sure Modest Mouse meant a lot of different things to a lot of different people. And for most people, their impression of the band starts around 2004 with their big hit “Float On.” For me, Modest Mouse will always be that curious local band from the early ‘90s.

A quick recap on Seattle in the ‘90s: Nirvana blew up in the fall of ‘91, and their success helped turn the spotlight on Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, Screaming Trees, and Mudhoney. Seattle was suddenly seen as a hub of underground rock music. But the reality is that we were a geographically isolated city with restrictive liquor laws and the Teen Dance Ordinance, a law that made all ages concerts virtually impossible. Rock music in Seattle was for the 21+ crowd. If you were a kid and you liked going to shows, you had to go to the youth centers out in the suburbs, or you had to go down to Tacoma and Olympia, or you religiously attended the one tiny all ages venue in the sketchiest part of downtown, The Velvet Elvis, that was strangely exempt from the ordinance on a technicality (namely, it had fixed seating, so you couldn’t “dance”). There was a distinct generational gap between the crowd that saw Nirvana play at the Central Saloon the summer before Nevermind came out and the local teenagers who picked up guitars in its wake.

Botch started playing in ‘93 and by the end of ‘94 we were playing shows at The Velvet Elvis. We were also playing spots like The Old Fire House in Redmond and Ground Zero in Bellevue, the suburban youth centers that held weekly concerts for the underage crowd. Some weeks you’d get a touring acts like Neurosis or Rocket From the Crypt, but we were so far off the standard touring circuit that most of the time you just got local bands.

Modest Mouse was a name we saw around a lot. The name sounded a bit twee for our tastes, but we knew their drummer Jeremiah had been in a hardcore band called Drown, and he’d been an early fixture at The Old Fire House. Despite the small nature of the underage scene in Seattle and the crossover in our musical interests, I wouldn’t hear Modest Mouse until Botch went out on our first tour in ‘96. In San Francisco, we played at the famous Epicenter Records. The bill was Modest Mouse, Scenic Vermont, Trial, and Botch. There were maybe 20 people there. But man, Modest Mouse fuckin’ ruled. They could be sweet and pretty one moment and screaming over distortion and feedback the next. We all became fans that night.

There was so much I identified with in their music. For one thing, it felt like every song started with a nugget of an idea---a solid verse/chorus structure---and then drifted off into some noisy exploratory jam session. It didn’t feel far off from what Botch was doing in that regard. We’d start a song with a couple of riffs that worked together, and we’d just jam in the basement until the rest of the song fell into place. It’s funny... I just assumed that was how every band wrote together. That’s what Fugazi and Drive Like Jehu did, after all. But in hindsight, I think it was a very unique approach, or at least it’s one that’s fallen out of favor with newer bands. When I listen to those early Modest Mouse songs, you can feel the excitement of a band bouncing ideas off of each other, letting happy accidents turn into whole new parts.

There was something else that really resonated with me about those early Modest Mouse records. There was a sense of wonder with the western landscape, a fascination with geography, and a sense of loneliness and alienation when you become uprooted from your childhood home. It was all there in their record titles---Interstate 8, The Lonesome Crowded West, This Is a Long Drive. I’d only moved to the Northwest in ‘92, so I felt uprooted too. But there was also this new appreciation for wide open spaces. After living on an island you could drive across in a couple of hours, it boggled my mind that you could just get in a car and drive for several days and still not see the other side of the continent. Modest Mouse’s music captured that excitement for the open road and the possibilities it offered.

This Is a Long Drive had come out just a few months before that SF show. This album, along with the Broke single, got a lot of plays in our camp after playing with them. National success for Modest Mouse was still somewhere on the horizon, but by the time summer was over it felt like they were taking off regionally. They sold out a show at The Velvet Elvis that fall. I didn’t even know bands could sell out The Velvet Elvis back then. Sure, it held maybe 125 people, tops, but I didn’t realize there were 125 kids hip to the weird art house theater tucked in an alley in a grimy part of downtown.

By the time The Lonesome Crowded West came out, they were a national act. A year or two earlier you’d only hear their music at friend’s houses or on the local college radio station. Now you heard their music in coffee shops, bars, and record stores all over the States. They belonged to the world.

Weirdly enough, my only interaction with Jeremiah would happen years later. At some point in the late ‘00s, after the success with Good News For People Who Love Bad News and his brief hiatus from the band, I was at a grocery store in Seattle with a mutual friend. “You guys know each other, right?” the friend asked in lieu of a proper introduction. We both shrugged and smiled, introduced ourselves, both saying “yeah, I know” in response. We were the same age, had come up in the same scene. I’d gone in to work a shift at The Old Fire House Teen Center the day he stopped by to talk to my boss about quitting Modest Mouse. We were in the same musical orbit, likely going through the same growing pains at the same stages of our lives, which is probably why their music hit me the way it did.

RIP Jeremiah Green. Thank you for the music.

#everyrecordiown #modest mouse

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masked-disciple · 7 months ago

Note

In the Sagiverse "Yuujin sneaks Susato to England as a newborn" AU, how would you rate everyone's babysitting skills?

Sagiverse is much much more than just that one specific plot point (virtually all of my non-canonical tag ramblings are from Sagiverse, as is most of Scout's artwork and tbh, all of our writing); but I actually have an answer to this ready, so LET'S GO.

Klint: 0/10, immediately took her to court, threw knives at witnesses, and had his babysitting privileges revoked within three hours. Was actually reasonably attentive during those three hours despite his waning grasp on reality, because he did sort of raise Barok almost entirely by himself. Keeping Susato entertained while not disrupting court proceedings was enough multitasking that it kept him grounded. Yuujin would have appreciated that if it was Someone Else's Baby, but it was his, so he did not appreciate it.

Barok: 7/10, but also 2/10. Mostly just handed her directly off to Klint for reasons of "kept him pretty calm and not hallucinating if Barok had to leave the room", but was pretty good with her himself. Baby Barok is pretty much a disney princess when it comes to animals and kids, so once he figured out the whole "babies need to eat and sleep This Much", he did a pretty good job. But 2/10 just because he'd give her to Klint whenever they were together and just because Yuujin never found out doesn't mean it was a Good Idea.

Genshin: 4/10. One would assume he'd score higher because you know, he has a kid (that he abandoned but whatever). One would be wrong, because between having a career and several apprentices, I genuinely don't see him actually having that much to do with raising Kazuma? He was around, sure, but I'm pretty sure it mostly got left to Izumi, who was... well, she's an Ayasato, and doesn't have the greatest tether to the living world just in general. Genshin could do it, sure, he understands how to change a Victorian diaper. But he wouldn't be happy to do it if Yuujin needed him to watch her for a couple hours, and he already disapproves of most of Yuujin's choices so he's not going to go above and beyond for her.

Jigoku: 7/10. Also disapproves a little bit of Yuujin's split-second decision to take his newborn daughter to Britain by hiding her in his yukata, but unlike Genshin understands split-second bad decisions and is going to Do His Best. (This makes sending Kazuma, Yuujin's adopted son, to his death way angstier. It's pretty clear Susato's the favourite child as far as Jigoku's concerned.) He doesn't know how exactly to do his best, so Susato learns a lot of jiu jitsu, but he's doing his best anyway.

Stronghart: 1/10. It only happened once, but it did happen. Jigoku was supposed to watch her, then he got pulled into some emergency, Stronghart was Jigoku's closest available friend (they might have been lovers at that point, haven't nailed the when of that yet), Stronghart had to deal with a four-year-old Susato for like three hours. He did feed her. She played with his birds and only almost lost an eye once. Yuujin never found out, which was good, because if he had he would've blown a gasket.

Beatrice: 9/10. Our good ol' Lord Chief Justice has raised three children, partly on their own, and understands Yuujin better than he thinks they do. They've probably snuck Nia and Rhodri into court on multiple occasions. Susato has teething toys, snacks, books suitable for her age, and colouring supplies now. She has signed six court documents and listened to several cases. She sees her dad on his lunch break between surgeries. Susato loves getting babysat by Lord Gingerson, she's getting all the good snacks and occasional lessons in Welsh. She also gets to watch trials but this time she's allowed to be there without her dad freaking out.

Courtney: 6/10. I feel like Yuujin and Courtney have babysat for each other on numerous occasions. This is what happens when you're both single parents to small children at St Synner's. She ranks a 6 because while she's kind to children, she's also very stern, and I feel like Susato wouldn't like her very much. Susato and Maria definitely play corpse / autopsy together, and they have a lot of fun and are probably pretty close friends, but that doesn't mean Susato really wants Courtney there. (That actually makes me wonder if they would have exchanged letters growing up? ...Aw, now I have DGS3 ideas.)

Fionn / Sholmes: 10/10. Full disclosure I forgot him not because I don't like him but because Fionn is just. Susato's other parent?? He's technically her stepdad but as far as she's concerned that's her dad too. Fionn is 1) not human and 2) over a hundred years old. Susato is not the first child he's been handed and told to take care of. She's the first that's his, yes, but Fionn lived with his Aunt Chris for a century, he's wrangled his fair share of cousins and had circumstances been slightly different, that would have included Kazuma. Fionn does an amazing job with Susato and she loves him dearly. (That plus he'll fling her into a pile of pillows with his tail and kids love that.)

Moriarty (bonus): 9/10 and -5/10. Yes, at once. On one hand, he's great with kids and awesome at remembering to feed her. On the other, Yuujin why are you letting your boyfriend's dead ex-boyfriend babysit your daughter. I know, it's because you have no idea he's watching her while you're out at the store for twenty minutes and you know she'll be safe for that long because she was sleeping when you went out. Mori's still doing his best as the secret stepdad, and also let's be real, he's secretly competing with Klint to see who can be the better babysitter. (Klint does not know this is happening. He's still in denial.)

#asks #arda-ancalima #thank you so much for the ask!!!#I can't think of anyone else who might've babysat for her?#maybe john wilson but honestly we know nothing about the man so who actually cares tbh #yuujin was pretty firm about only giving her to friends he trusts #so if she had a nanny it would probably be one of his neighbours at baker st #but reasonably often would end up being one of his friends because he was so protective #which you can't blame him for. his wife died on him he's not going to let susato get hurt #although this would be before she started going to school because you know she did #even if klint didn't have the pull to authorize her being in london beatrice sure did #and beatrice is a GOBLIN you know they would have!!! and also ensured that she got to go to school #in a happier timeline susato would've been the trial run for iris and hyacinthe but alas #(ask me about hyacinthe and iris this is definitely not a trap :3)

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just-my-type-x · 1 year ago

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Fuck It

Based off this and this (it ended up longer because of the dialogue, so it's a short imagine rather than a quick blurb) @electricreadingphase

"You look stunning", Tris wows when he enters the room while i adjust my earrings. I let out a muffled giggle.

"It's nothing, i got ready in 15 minutes", i smile at him

"Really?", his eyes almost fall out of his head

"No", i laugh, "I've been redoing my makeup and choosing dresses for the past three hours. I'm exhausted. And i need a drink", i bend over to grab my purse from my bed, careful not to wrinkle my dress. I stand up and throw another glance at myself in the mirror, before catching Tris eyeing me up and down, lips slightly parted. I clear my throat as a hint of red appears on my cheekbones.

"Good thing you're having your graduation party", he gives me an awkward smile and i frown while exiting my bedroom, unable to understand his reaction

A few hours later, my feet finally call it quits because of the heels and the constant hours of dancing around with now my ex colleagues. I take a seat next to Tris, who's just exhausted as i am, tho he called it quits 5 songs ago. We exchange some laughs about our dance moves, now judging everyone around us.

"Thank you for being my date tonight. We're more than 60 girls in my year and not enough guys.", i give him a sincere smile and i squeeze his hand gently, which takes both of us by surprise. We quickly pull away our hands and my stomach drops at the fact that he really moved his hand away.

"And you're single too", he points out and takes a sip of his drink. I roll my eyes at his smirk

"No need to get personal", i pin him with my eyes as i take his glass out of his hand to serve myself with his drink of choice. His breath intensifies and i smirk to myself.

"Listen..", Tris starts but doesn't look at me. "I'm leaving for a while.", his eyes find mine and my smile quickly fades away. "We're going to Scotland to get some writing going, Con's grandparents have a farm and they gave us permission to turn it into a studio for as long as needed.", i nod, unable to understand why he's so serious about it all.

"Well, good luck to you guys, I'm sure it will help you come up with great songs", i pat him on the shoulder

"Yeah, thanks.", he looks away, shaking his head

***

Weeks go by and as much as i try to keep the friendship with Tris flowing, he seems unreachable, which pisses me off. Every three days the boys would facetime me and Kirstie, but no conversation would starts between Tris and I. We never fought or something, it didn't even seem like we're ignoring one another, it was just so annoying being around him, even if it was in virtual for.

3 months later, the boys are back in town, just in time to celebrate Kirstie's promotion at work. She rented out a foyer just outside London, where we all gathered to congratulate her.

I leave the foyer in need to get away from the boys, who seem to be way too agitated and loud, something i grew out of whilst not having them around for almost 6 months. I find a swing and sit on it, resting my forehead on the chain.

I raise my eyes when i hear rattling of leaves on the ground. I almost roll my eyes when i notice Tris' messy hair but i just straighten my back. He quietly sits down on the swing next to me.

"Why did you leave the foyer?", his voice is a bit raspy, maybe because of the continuous recording of songs. I scoff.

"Hi, I'm y/n, you must be?", i sarcastically extend my hand out in his direction. Tris grins at me.

"Alright, alright, i might deserve it", he shakes my hand in the end and i roll my eyes while standing up. "Don't leave", he stops me, standing up as well. "I'm sorry i didn't stay in touch with you. At first i was mad at you, then it became a habit"

"mad at me? About what?"

"Your graduation party. I told you i was going away for a few weeks and you had no problem with that."

"Tristan, you've been away for months, which i wouldn't had known unless i asked Kirstie. I was ready to prepare a meal for you when you came back", the raise of my voice was unnecessary. We both sigh and i turn around to walk away, but he stops me by catching my waist and glueing my back to his chest.

"I wanted you to come with me. I wanted you there because i couldn't go 2 days without seeing your face, but you were so ok with me leaving, that i had to give you space", he almost whispers in my ear, while i find it hard to swollow. "And i still feel the same", his voice even lower.

"So you're telling me this is your way of letting me know you feel something for me?", i snap back, eyeing him

"I didn't want to fuck up and lose you forever. I needed time away from you, especially when i saw you're not that affected by my departure", Tris raises his arms but lets them fall next to his body, defeated. "Whatever. I'll take the blame"

"You would never fuck up with me because i wouldn't let you". A shy smile creeps on his face.

"How come?"

"Tris, i want you too much to be mine rather than have you take a wrong decision and lose you for good", the words take me by surprise and i only realise the weigh of them when Tris closes the gap between us, his forehead on mine while his eyes don't leave mine.

"So, you're saying we should give it a try?", a smirk appears on my face when he asks that and all i can do is nod, my cheeks flushed. With a wide smile on his face, Tris kisses my lips hard, his hands on the small of my back.

#tristan evans #tristan evans imagine #tristan evans smut

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lepartidelamort · 1 month ago

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Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasante.

Here we rest.

Nearly a year ago to the day, on October 7th of 2023, Palestinian resistance group Hamas made an unprecedented incursion into Israel, taking many hostages and ostensibly humiliating Israel. Israel responded with a massive war, claiming the objective was to “destroy Hamas.” This was obviously not a viable objective in the short or medium term, and many wondered what the Jews were thinking, setting such an absurd bar for victory. It quickly became clear that it was more than luck that allowed Hamas to have such a successful foray into Jewish territory: the IDF had effectively stood down. It was later confirmed that insider trading took place before the attack, proving beyond any reasonable doubt that the Netanyahu government allowed it to happen on purpose.

It quickly became clear to anyone paying attention that the Israeli plan was to commit a large-scale massacre in Gaza, which would trigger attacks by Hezbollah. Israel would then attack Hezbollah (you are here), which would then be spun into a conflict with Iran, which the Jews would be able to drag the United States into. Within a period of a few years, Israel would thereby be able to destroy all of her enemies, which would then allow for normalization with the corrupt remainders of the Middle Eastern Islamic world, Sunni countries all ruled by villains with no ambitions beyond those of a base material nature.

This all seemed too overwrought and convoluted to actually work. Looking at things a year on, however, it seems a lot less unlikely.

Last week, the leadership of Hezbollah was completely decapitated by Israel. That includes the long-time Secretary General, Hassan Nasrallah, who was for some reason not in a tunnel despite the fact that Israel had begun large scale terrorist and bombing operations.

There is nothing you can say about that other than that it’s incredible. Hezbollah had decades to prepare for the eventuality Israel would make this move, and for a year they knew for a fact Israel would make this move, and yet their intelligence was so poor they allowed themselves to be decimated completely in a matter of days.

As I write, Israel is now moving into Lebanon with ground forces, while Iranian leadership is whining, begging the Americans or people at the UN or whoever will listen to somehow force the Jews to follow the rules. The fact that the Iranians believe there are rules is inexplicably bizarre, but after endless red line talking, this is what they are doing.

After the political leader of Hamas was assassinated in Tehran on July 31st, Iran vowed revenge and then did nothing. We are now hearing that the leadership of Iran was told by the United States that if they did not retaliate, there would be a ceasefire in Gaza. It’s virtually unfathomable that the Iranians would believe this, but they are apparently so devoted to avoiding war that they are willing to believe anything.

It’s terrible.

Dreams of Tel Aviv Burning

It’s likely that I’m the only Western commentator who will publicly admit to it, because it’s gruesome, but what everyone opposed to the Jews wants to see is Tel Aviv on fire. We want to see Israel turned into Gaza, we want to see Arabs in masks with AK-47s marching through the ruins, occupying the palaces of Israel, Jews blindfolded, tied up, awaiting summary execution. We want to see the Ayatollah leading prayers on the mount of a unified Jerusalem.

Grisly as it may be, that is what justice would look like.

Since the end of World War II, the Jews have dominated the earth, and we all want this to end as quickly as possible. Personally, I am exhausted. I am exhausted watching what the Jews have done to the Arabs, but I’m much more exhausted by what the Jews have done to my country, to my people, to me personally and to the people I care about, and above all else I want justice to be served. And the Jews are guilty of everything they stand accused of. Never has there been a people more deserving of retribution.

There is a group of commentators on the internet who have been telling people for a year that Iran and its allies, Hezbollah in particular, were well capable of somehow crippling Israel. I don’t want to name names, but if I did want to name names, at the top of the list would be names like “Scott Ritter,” “Pepe Escobar,” and “Jackson Hinkle.”

Anyone who understands the Jewish problem enjoyed hearing from these self-proclaimed experts on the “Axis of Resistance” that Israel was finally going to get its comeuppance. This didn’t seem totally out of the question, given that the IDF has faced significant setbacks in Gaza. However, what we’ve seen in the days since the shocking exploding pager attack of September 17th has demonstrated that the Jews are very much in the game and that there is a very real chance they will have success in their long term objectives in the region.

Reality isn’t based on what we want. Reality stands on its own, regardless of what anyone thinks about it. People who are still claiming that everything the “Axis of Resistance” is doing is going according to plan are delusional, denying basic reality. Hezbollah was the single most important Iranian proxy, and Israel has wiped them out like it was nothing.

Things in the Middle East are looking quite grim, and you should not let anyone tell you otherwise.

All is Not Lost

While there is no denying that what Israel has done in the last days is a massive blow to the would-be heroes of the Middle East, it is a long road to Tehran. There is still reason to hope that the Iranians will come to their senses and accept the reality that there is no series of words they can say to the United States or the United Nations that is going to prevent Israel from launching full-scale war against them.

What is concerning is not really that the Axis of Resistance suffered such a humiliating defeat, but that they appear so rattled and even confused by it.

However, we must remember that the Middle East front is simply one front in a global war between the Jews, represented by their great champion, America, versus the rest of the world. Though the focus is presently on Israel’s war, Israel is fighting the same war that the US is fighting in the Ukraine and is trying to incite in the Pacific.

The US is not doing well internally. It feels like a powder keg ready to blow. There are a lot of drugs, porn, streaming television shows, video games, and processed foods, which serve as a glue holding everything together, but there is a deep rot, and on a long enough timeline, it is simply not feasible for the US to continue in its current state.

When the US finally gets dragged into the war against Iran, that will be the defining turning point. If Iran is able to simply hold out, to keep drones and rockets firing at Israel, to keep the Strait of Hormuz closed to Western ships, to drain the United States of its resources and allow Russia and China room to maneuver while the US is distracted, this could all turn out great, and in ten years time, we could be living in a white, Christian country, looking back at the bad old days when we were enslaved to the Jews.

In Defense of Global Thermonuclear War

There is another thing you will not find anyone other than me willing to admit: if the United States were to be on the verge of winning their war against the rest of the world, if they were close to forcing Jewish rule – gay sex, feminism, multiculturalism, atheism – on all of the people of the world, it would be much better if there were a nuclear war that annihilated many or most of the people on earth.

I would go so far as to say that even if all life on earth were to be ended, that would be vastly preferable to a Jewish victory over all mankind. After all, everyone dies, and it doesn’t really matter when you die. It is better to die than to leave generations to live in total slavery to the Jews.

Of course, if there were a nuclear war, everyone wouldn’t die. Nor would you have a “Fallout” type scenario with “nuclear winter” and unmanageable radiation. Nations would fall and in the worst scenario, billions would die, but humans would continue. Such a world would not be ruled by Jews, but by men of intelligence, physicality, and morality.

It may be that a devastating nuclear exchange between the great powers is precisely the kind of “great reset” we need in order for a better world to emerge.

Of course, that is an extreme scenario.

We should hope it does not come to that. I don’t want that. I wish it was the sixties. I wish we could be happy.

Still, I advise that everyone be prepared for such an eventuality.

One thing is clear: things are going to get a lot worse before they get better.

Andrew Anglin

#dailystormer

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barneyandthepoetrymuse · 3 months ago

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Disappointment Panda 🐼

I think it has to be said and should’ve been way before now…

The turning point has been passed and shouldn’t have been allowed…

Who’s the responsible adults in the room and why’s nobody’s around…?

This is what happens when you bury your head deeply in the ground…

If taking care of our kids means taking the stones they throw…

Don’t tell us you know better, don’t tell us what we don’t know…

Don’t tell me I’m phobic…that’s a line I refuse to tow…

Not all footsteps lead to lapland…especially if they’re in the snow…

Esther Rantzen took an open mind she wasn’t afraid to show…

When the story of “Sir”Jimmy Saville shattered lives and broke…

So many children were left hanging at the end of that rope…

What is it you have to do these days to get the truth exposed…

What is a woman, what is a man, what is it you think you believe…?

When did the indisputable facts of life differ from this time last week…?

You get nothing in this life for free, even the chance to speak…!!

How can you be too careful with..vulnerable children’s safety…!!!

Take a deep breath in and don’t be afraid to say what you see…

He is a he, she is a she, you can find the descriptions in the dictionary…

Take time to review the first book, or wait to pan the trilogy…..

Listen to the critics and not the deniers who have ultimate responsibility…

The bullets are real but the authorities are shooting out blanks…

There’s only affirmation on this hilltop and we’re running out of tanks…

It’s an irritation annihilation and we must be marched like ants…

Bring your foot down on top of us while you’re scratching your pants…!!!!!

Stick your head above the parapet along with the likes of JK…

Or take the line of defence that tomorrow is another day…..

I suppose it’s not your generation so turn a blind eye to the pain…

Don’t let something like personal responsibility stand up and in your way……

Ignore the cries for help and chase the doubts away…

Now that we’re all speechless and you’re the ones to blame…

Get down to city hall for prescriptions of vitriol and false claims…

You know you’re one of the perpetrators in everything else but name…..

Shut in all the children, our schools are a kind and safe place…

Make changes to the education system and do it all in haste…

The tide is starting to turn but we’re only catching a few waves…

Where’s the life guards in the water, it’s only people saving face…..

It’s virtual reality that’s hacking in and tracking the good grades…

This is the real lockdown and this is our nation state…

You don’t need to study the facts or write out any essays…

You’re eventually be WOKEn at night after painfully destructive decades…

We’ve pandered to the issues and been calked out as fake…

We’ve been thrown into exile and burned at the stake…

When did logic and science transition into darkest space…?

You’re removing a child’s healthy body parts for goodness sakes…

Bearing all the hallmarks of so many previous tragic mistakes…

Where are the millennials now and where are all the snowflakes…?

Don’t let a few question marks undermine the political landscape…

They’d rather cut off their hands than hold them up to their mistakes…

It’s unfortunately not your body, you’ve been born a mismatch…

We live in a time where a cat is a dog and a dog is a cat…..

It’s not your fault you’re a person who’s been designated the wrong hat…

If you take it off today then tomorrow you can always put it right back….

Where was the impartiality in speaking out with caring concern…

Where was the rationale in what you’ve now discerned…..?

What does it teach you and whose..lessons have been learned…?

Guess what…it’s not you at the sharp end of all that you’ve affirmed……….!!!!!!!

Fuck all the rainbows and sponsorship deals…

You could’ve funded some new schools or offered free meals…

Instead you’re dishing out hormones to the vulnerable and mentally ill….

You can always redirect the funding…but you can’t reattach genitals……!!!!

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notyouraveragebozo · 11 months ago

Text

12/19/2023 - Day 1083 of Presentation

Five years ago, on a cold and dreary winter day, I went on a virtual lark of this amazing planet, scanning the ground for meteor impact craters, and taking snapshots of interesting places to visit someday,... and life,... became much more interesting, for me.

Originally,... I was brought to a virtual standstill, by an object, which resembled after 'connecting-the-dots' - a boat - in a desert! After some time spent staring at it,... I took a look at some very OLD maps, and saw, going back far enough - there were rivers shown, painted in, where my object was sitting. Using the map date, and projecting a couple hundred years into the future, I looked at the hulls of ALL the ships that had been built, and Google could show,.. and the closest shape I could see - was that of - a 15th C. caravel(?!) (This was my educated guess, I may be wrong,) but speaking that pronouncement out loud (and to myself), caused me instantly to react, - and I reached out to a local university, in the hope of developing an amazing, expedition searching for a boat wreck - on dry land,... While I had shipwreck dreams in my head, and waiting for the professor's response to my email, I went and reviewed the other images that I had 'snap-shot' that day. That - is 'when' - my life changed - forever. What I saw,... I felt the need to share. I immediately found myself, sitting down, writing fantastical-sounding words, that I seriously, realistically, wanted to honestly, relay/impart/ and share to/ and with - 'everyone'. By the end of March, 2019, the bulk of my words were written, and I was ready to take my 'construct' to a web development firm out in the 'world-at-large'. I waited until April 1st, was over, (for obvious reasons),... and on 2nd of April, 2019, I reached out into the world, and shared my ideas and intentions for the first time, with a website building firm, located on the opposite side of the planet from me, in India, (to try to be egalitarian). The firm was tasked with working 'in the dark' regarding my Intel property. The stringent dictate of 'not knowing' what I was working to build and impart, and my newness to the business world, found me, repeatedly, reiterating 'my vision' - over, and over, and over - to the folk on the other side of the phone, (it cumulatively - honed my vision), and the words expressing what I would like the site to accomplish. Unfortunately, at the end of 2019, I parted ways with that firm, after an email 'faux pas' on their part, (that was quite unfortunate), but which caused me to blow my gasket and sever ties, with not much more to show for it, other than my MUCH deeper 'understanding' of what I was wanting for my website, how to look and function.

I then turned state-side for assistance, working with freelancers, for four months before, COVID intruded and caused them to bow out for a health pause. It was during this period that my wonderful, geriatric nurse trained mother, passed away, in terrible, anguishing pain, due to the multiple failures of her peers. (The tale of her demise is too rich in soul-enflaming, terribly-traumatic details, for me to relay in this message. Perhaps I will rip that scab off, another day, and tell everyone of the grave injustice done to her. She was robbed by her peers - a victim of criminal neglect. She was the embodiment of LOVE, and such a tragic, unnecessary loss,) With my mom passing, I was thrown into a great funk. It was she who listened to me first - (and she didn't flinch). She had been my sounding board, my hug-sharer, and my business sponsor. She had believed in me when others did not. (I had envisioned sending my parents on world travel trips, with my project successfully concluded, but,... then,... she was gone, and the 'dreams' for my folks together, 'seeing the world', were dashed to pieces.) But, now,... because I had verbally and textually, re-explained/repeated, what I had wanted of my website, for so many times to the folk in India - the freelancers were to quick 'shape the details, and I had my pages rudimentarily shaped,... when COVID,... took them offline. The THIRD firm to come online, Word Press - was the charm! (Thank you, folk at Blue Sky!) On the last day of 2020, at 12PGMT,... I sent out Twitter Tweets to 74 News agencies; 10 Specialty Orgs., (such as Smithsonian and National Geographic); and 63 billionaires or their foundational Twitter accounts; and then I turned my website - 'On'. Presenting the Intellectual property information, in an engaging and constructive fashion, to the elite like a Nieman-Marcus Christmas catalogue gift idea. An 'Opportunity for the Ages'. I was SOOO - impressed with myself, and floating on a cloud for what I was managing, that I became blind to a glaring error that was only discovered - on Day 580! My company name Unique Destinations Enterprise was spelled wrong, (in the Header, Footer, and Copyright. It was spelled 'Enterprize'!!!) (So much for trying to convince the uber wealthy, the veracity, of my unique opportunity!) I had intended that the website to be accessible by anyone - for free. I made it readable in 104 languages and spoken English voice, for those with literacy or vision issues. Before the auction concluded, I managed to post an AUDIO Back Story, retelling of the Origin story, that I give to my new website helpers before they can do any work for me, and sharing my spoken words, in 22 subtitled language videos, 1Hour:5 min in length.

I wanted to reach everyone, who might wish to seek, casting a wide net,... (but folk became/stayed, shy even after the spelling error was corrected.) My GPS Auction construct lasted for 775 days, ending on Valentine's Day, at High Noon, 2023, without anyone taking it up, forcing me to turn to Plan 'B'. Plan 'B' is more like a ballet of many parts and partners. I have contacted folk in NASA and the U.S. Congress, I still need to involve advice of attorneys, before impartation can take place. To what result, you may ask? (I'm trying for a fairytale ending, '... and they all lived, happily ever after.' I seek to impart what I learned - to share it - with my fellow humanity. (And empower myself, of course (as is fit a fairy tale)), to evolve to serve as a philanthropist, helping others, with my economic windfall - (yet to be manifested.) I am striving to steer 'the dialogue' in a fruitful, and 'constructive' fashion, that may best maximize - positive outcomes, regarding human society. As such, it behooves my construct, that the minds that approach it, are rational, logical, inquisitive, and open. What I would share is information, that conveys a need, to be more 'cogent' and receptive, to the changes necessary of us all, and gives the call to start the work to uplift each other, and help actualize those intellectual, and social leaps, into Humanity 2.0. Recently, family members have asked when I will put an end, to my 'nonsensical' activities, and move on. For five years, I can only take, momentary pauses to question, before I answer myself, and I go back to work, comfortable in my knowledge. I have a choice, I could walk away, but,... why? - I can't! So, I stay in my boat, rowing in the deep blue sea, thinking about the fish I want to land. Wondering if I need a bigger boat? (Dreaming about a Silent 80, tri-deck,... sigh!)

For five years I have walked two worlds - the mundane and the NONMUNDANE. I have: 'seen the light'; seen my mother die; I saw Notre Dame and the rainforests burn; I've cared for my aged father; I've looked at castles and submarines; held an Art auction; dealt with repeated floods; a global pandemic; spilled coffee; Clogged sinks and toilets; strange Russian phone call. I have battled billionaires, and left them perplexed; I have blocked thousands in admonishment, on Twitter, and on TikTok - fighting for skies and waves of BLUE, with whatever cache or mojo, that I possess with my 'knowledge'. I've been petitioned by the folk behind Robot Chicken wanting my house in a film. (I thought it was a sneaky scam. Turned out to be real! Oops!) My loss! - But I still have my saucer - (and the caravel.) - (And my mugs.) - I apologize the mugs weren't available for this season's holidays, I had an issue with a fraudulent charge to the account that I used in my company store, and I must wait till new cards were issued. - How simply mundane is that. For five years, I have stayed apart from those I would usually interact, or those I would desire, to have, in close proximity. I have become a little like Howard Hughes, quirky, and 'outside'. I have courted famous people in a dunderheaded-way, by not answering my phone, waiting for folk to leave messages (which they never do, with the exception of Russian lady robo-call from Lexington, KY) I thought 2023 was a perfectly, odd-enough year, for me to tell the world - my 'amazing' marvelous tale,... but as it appears,... it is 2024 - to be, just right, for even, Stephen. - (Cross-fingers.) Knowing what I do, seeing what I have,... I have become a vocal proponent for a world that aims for betterment. To best digest my novel conceptualizations, it takes some amount of time. Turning the world - takes some time. It took me two years, to write the words and pull back 'the Curtain', and this coming New Year's Eve, will mark 3 years - since I did that! Five years ago, I was just an 'above-average' bozo.

Stay tuned - for more!

@arimelber and @neildegrassetysonofficial, Gentlemen, I am including you here for continuity and your interest.

#uap #opportunity #science #paradigmshift #truth is stranger than fiction #the truth is out there #astrophysics #adventure #long post #long reads #love thy neighbor #behind the scenes #entrepreneur #green technology #realm of possibility #stay positive

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