#I don't normally get headaches so this means I'm dying

[tayloralison]

i have a headache and my energy is down so i got chocolate ice cream and spanish music to help fix me

[redbird-tf]

Chamomile tea 

Dean winchester x (hunter ) sister reader

Summary: being alone for so long you’ve gotten used to only relying on yourself, a mindset that Dean starts to chip away at. 

Word count: 740

Notes: being creative is hard

Warnings: none

You sniffled, reaching across the table for a new tissue. You blew hard before discarding it in the bin with the dozen others.“Fever not letting up?” You jumped at Dean's voice, You weren't quite accustomed to having company around yet. The three of you were still navigating this new dynamic, which was proving easier for some than others. Just a few months ago Sam and Dean were the dynamic hunter duo, while you still navigated the world solo. You could still vividly recall the moment when John had announced the secret he had buried for years, the secret forced out because of a hunt.

——————

You remembered the look of shock that overtook everyone’s face and the screaming match that ensued between Sam and John. You could recall standing silently in the corner, feeling Dean gaze upon you from ten feet away. Once the job was done and John disappeared again you expected life to go back to normal, you couldn’t have anticipated the brothers to take you under their wing. “Family looks out for each other” Sam had stated to you, a mentality that you would come to learn.

What you hadn’t seen that night was the quiet devastation Dean had unleashed. He couldn’t pick a fight with John like Sam could, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as angry. His entire life he’d been forced into the role of a guardian for his little brother, and now to find out he had a sister—who had been alone in this life—turned that protective instinct into a fierce storm of emotions. The guilt of failing as brother was sallowing him whole and the rage towards John for keeping the truth from him boiled over. Least to say When they checked out, the motel room bore the scars of his turmoil.

——————-

“I'm fine” you stated blankly in response, your attention turning back to the lore book in your lap. You weren’t purposely being stubborn, to you it was true. You had gotten sick before and you'd get over it, no big deal. Dean didn't respond and carried on with his business in the kitchen. The sound of pouring liquid reached your ears, but it didn’t smell like his usual coffee so you assumed he was having a drink. Hearing what sounded like a spoon hitting the side of a ceramic mug you raised your head in confusion. Unfortunately, his back was turned to you, blocking your view of what he was conjuring up.

When he started to turn around, your eyes darted back to your book only looking up when hearing the soft clink of a mug being placed in front of you. You watched the steam rise, a sweet and sour aroma filling the air. “Is that chamomile tea?” A softer voice chimed in as Sam entered the room. “Not for you,” Dean stated firmly, taking a seat across from you. You stared at the drink “What is it?” You asked raising an eyebrow. “Tea, honey for a sore throat, and some lemon for the headaches” Dean explained leaning back in his chair. “Thats pure witchcraft right there, can fix anything!” Sam exclaimed pointing at the mug. “Drink up sis” sam encouraged, brushing his hand over your shoulder on his way to the door.

“You didn't have to do that,” you said softly to Dean. “I used to make them all the time for Sam, it's no big deal,” Dean reassured you. You fidgetedwith the edge of a page. “I'm not dying Dean.” Your tone came off defensive causing Dean to sit up straight. “You don't have to be dying, for someone to make you a cup of tea kiddo” his words prompted you to lift your head to meet his gaze. “I didn't mean…” your words trailed off, unable to defend your previous statement. “I'm your big brother, it's my job to look out for you.” He said with a stern tone. You could only stare at him in silence trying to comprehend his words. “I know it hasn't always been like that, but it is now. I've been a big brother for a long time and Sam’s still learning. i know you are too—just…” he took a deep breath “Let me do this for you, ok?” You nodded silently, noticing how his softened eyes contrasted with the weight of his words.

Without knowing what to say, you lifted the mug to your lips. The warmth of the citrus tea seeped into your chest, and you felt your tense muscles start to relax much like the protective wall you’ve built beginning to chip away. You gently placed the mug down, catching a glimpse of the small smile on Dean's face. “Thank you, Dean” you responded with a smile of your own. He didn’t respond with words instead, he stood up from the table, patting you on the shoulder as he passed by. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself when looking down at the mug in front of you.

———————-

[rottenpumpkin13]

in honor of me having to get parts of my toenail removed, how would agszc be with a regular ol' doctors appointment? no Hojo, no Hollander, just a regular checkup

THAT'S AWFUL WHAT HAPPENED??

• Genesis hates getting sick, but gets sick frequently. As a result, he's accustomed to seeing doctors, and the medical staff at Shinra (including Hollander) are familiar with his medical record. So he tries his best to appear as healthy and normal to the doctor as possible.

Genesis: As you can see, I'm perfectly healthy.

Doctor: Your nose is bleeding and you have a fever.

Genesis: Red matches my coat and I'm naturally hot and attractive.

Doctor: The skin on your neck is purple and spotted.

Genesis: Hickeys. I receive them quite frequently.

Doctor: It looks like irritation.

Genesis: Yes, Sephiroth irritated me before he gave them to me.

Doctor:

• Zack prides himself on his perfect health and enjoys being praised for it. Unfortunately, he isn't used to doctors outside of Shinra and he's a nervous talker.

Doctor: How do you feel?

Zack: I feel fine! No headaches today.

Doctor:

Zack: Not that I usually get headaches. I mean I do, but they're usually so bad I can't even see.

Doctor:

Zack: But my eyesight is great, though. I mean not great great, but better than it was last week, when I was seeing dark spots after doing one too many squats.

Doctor:

Zack: I'm talking too much, aren't I? I hope it's not mad cow disease, because I heard that eating too much beef makes you get that.

Doctor:

Zack: I have mad cow disease, don't I?

• Sephiroth is less nervous than he would be at Shinra (Hojo is his primary physician). But he's not used to doctor appointments outside the labs and doesn't know how to act, assuming they follow the same procedures.

Doctor: Go ahead and take a seat on that table there.

Sephiroth: What surgeries will you be performing today?

Doctor: ....none. It's just a regular checkup.

Sephiroth: Ah, lying to spring a sudden invasive procedure upon me. Very well, I understand. I'll refrain from further inquiry.

*The doctor takes out a stethoscope*

Sephiroth: The first instrument of torture, I see.

Doctor:

• Cloud grew up in Nibelheim, where medical care was questionable and the few practitioners often employed impractical and esoteric methods. Nevertheless, Cloud grew up healthy and strong, so he heeds his mother's warning and "doesn't trust big-city doctors."

Doctor: It looks like your blood pressure is a bit high.

Cloud: Say no more. I have to take a spoonful of salt mixed with olive oil at every hour for a week right after going on a run, and then reward myself with a salty snack to scare my blood pressure into lowering.

Doctor: You will die.

• Angeal is a funny case because he's somewhat of a hypochondriac, but only when he's at the doctor. This stems from his anxiety and the constant worry that he has a problem that needs to be fixed as soon as possible.

Doctor: How are you—

Angeal: I'm experiencing mood swings, changes in my appetite, fatigue, chronic pain, digestive issues, excessive exhaustion, and a persistent feeling that I'm dying. Clearly I have a fatal disease. How long do I have left to live?

Doctor: That sounds like depression.

Angeal:

[romeowriting]

Love and deepspace Zayne x Male reader / self insert. (A few moments there's male pronoms but not a lot.)

Need comfort and I'm lonely sooooooooo yeah has been in my head for a while to calm down mostly during panic attacks.

English isn't my first language, I'm transgender, I haven't played this game for a long time.

Tw: Faint, panic attack, Mention of sickness... Zayne takes care of y/n after a panic attack that made him faint.

You're maybe a hunter, maybe you're able to fight big creatures without any issues.

But when it comes to going outside and being around people. It's another thing.

You are more than just unwell, you can't go outside without headphones or something to calm you down when everything is getting overwhelming.

And it doesn't help when half of the time, you get to go to the hospital.

Even if you have a friend over there, it doesn't mean you are insensitive when it comes to those white and lifeless walls, or that smell that lingers in your clothes of air freshener and discomfort from traumatic memories.

But proud of yourself (and mostly because you decided to go without being fully awake). You were able to get out of the bus and arrived in front of the hospital like a pro.

Walking towards the big garden, you check your phone. Your appointment with doctor Zayne was a bit delayed. You know he was often called for emergency so you didn't mind. Now you have some time to kill. With that you went to take a small breakfast at the cafeteria, the stress made it impossible to eat that early in the morning and you started feeling dizzy.

You repeat yourself the tea and the little croissant that you want and by the time you passed, you stuttered but was able to get them.

Finally, after a long 45 minutes from where you looked either at the beautiful garden where kids were running and some were taking in this sweet fresh air. While trying to eat without your brain getting anxious over nothing, you finished your food.

Finally, a cold nurse asked you to sit down in the waiting room, saying you'll still have time to wait.

Sadly, your brain and heart start doing shit.

Like always, your anxiety took over your rational brain and by the time you noticed the symptoms, it was too late. You were having a panic attack.

Hopefully no one was in the waiting room. Not even a nurse. So before you could faint, you get off the chair and sit on the floor. Curling up while hesitating to take off or not your headphones.

Your ears started to buzz, so you took them off, putting them out of the way in case you fell unconscious, your heart rate went too far and before you could think of it.

You blackout.

You woke up like always with difficulty. Feeling like dying or suffering from this painful feeling. The time you took to understand you just passed out. You could hear the deep but calming voice of your friend Zayne. Calling you out.

“Y/n… Y/n can you head me? Tell me if you hear me. Make a sign.”

He kept asking you questions, until you were fully awake or at least enough to move your hand. Tapping soundless on the cold concrete. Your body is totally paralyzed. He sighted while you tried to talk even with a big migraine.

“I…I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…”

Like always, the first thing you feel like saying isn't “I'm not feeling good” or “I'm awake” But how sorry you are to bother the others.

He didn't answer that right away, you noticed while being unconscious, he put you in the safety position and now.”I'm going to lift your legs while you gain consciousness ok ? Tell me. Can you hear me clearly?”

You nodded, not a very smart move when you have a bit of a migraine and you had the consequences the seconds after. Groaning at the overwhelming feeling of a headache and of sickness. He cooed.”chuu… you don't have the strength to talk y/n ?” You softly said under your breath. “I don't know…”

After all, you didn't know what to do now. You were here for a basic check up after a mission. So it was supposed to be normal. Why does this happen everytime you know you can't handle it? Why… “Why is it happening to me ? Why can't they know what it is …?”

He stayed silent. Zayne was a very good doctor, you know he was one of the best. But he was as lost as you.

Maybe it was neurological ? Maybe it was a heart condition? No doctors could say. Even when like here. You fainted in a medical place. They don't seem to know the reason behind those episodes.

“It's fine Y/n, listen to my voice now. Ok ?” Said the doctor, trying to make you think of something else. While holding your legs up to let the blood go down, he looked at you so you murmured a small yes. He started to instruct. “Breathe in…. and breathe out… good. Breathe in… breathe out. Good job y/n.”You saw a soft smile on his face. He wouldn't admit that it happened.

After taking your conscious back and your heart at a normal rate. He put your legs down and let you choose to be held or to walk. With the few strength you had. You hold at his shoulders and with his help. Walked to his office. You didn't remember the moment he had you laid down on the couch, a cold patch on your head, your legs a little bit lifted up by the couch handle and your head on your favorite and comfortable pillows, your shirt a bit above your torso feeling like it had always been made for that. The faint scars on each side of your torso were like ornaments on your strong body.

He started taking your pulsations and heart rate. He knew you dislike silence as you hate noises. So he put soft but noticeable relaxing music in the background. He knew your taste, it was those video game’s osts you often put in your home to not hear the outside world.

“Zayne, I'm sorry for bothering you with that…” you said abruptly, he glared at you, but… you noticed his eyes were full of worries, of sadness and mostly:

“Don't say sorry for something you can't control. Y/n you did great by sitting out of your chair the moment you started feeling it. You did great by letting yourself in a place you were familiar with. Darling…” he put a hand on you forehand and let it softly caress your face. “I'm proud of you for doing everything you did until my arrival. I'm the one who should be sorry for letting you wait.”

You couldn't help it but started feeling guilty. After all, it wasn't his fault too if he had a more urgent patient. You are not the only patient. You…”you are overthinking again y/n. Don't think about it right now. The most important thing now is to take care of you. Right ?” Zayne tenderly assured you. Cutting your thoughts out of you.

You tried to suppress a cry but failed, letting all the overwhelming feelings crawling on you, out.

The gentle, protective form of Zayne sat down on the place you made him on the couch so he could pull you in an embrace. He started murmuring soft praises. Knowing you loved them.

“Good boy… you did great chuut. Look at you. There's nothing to fear. It's only you and me. No one's going to judge you.”

He softly put a kiss on your head. His coffee scent starts to make you feel at ease. He lets you snuggle against his neck while he shields you from the world.

--------🐦‍⬛

Thank you for reading. I made this so I can't let out my thoughts. Sorry if it's a bit ooc for Zayne. I haven't been able to play the game since around 5 months because of my phone but I wanted to do something.

[melkyt]

Been crying alot about the idea of the immortality surgery in the context of LawLu.

The vibes are immaculate for the angst xd

Say the side effect of the immortality surgery is that while Luffy exists forever, Law's soul is tied to his existence.

Say maybe Luffy's death was not some dramatic thing that happened in battle, no, he just used up the last of his life force by using the gears too often, and it presented itself as a disease sometime in his late twenties.

Law has gotten used to having him around, having a semblance of a family together, picking up orphan kids here and there. Luffy still goes on adventures and travels the world, but he always comes back.

Then he stops going out as he gets sick, on some days he can't even get out of bed.

Law hates watching the man he loves, the man who burns so brightly wither away. So despite his promise, Law can't do it. He does the surgery.

Luffy finds him in the garden, seemingly asleep, peaceful, and gone. His heart shatters and it takes weeks for him to recover, but eventually, he manages to keep going, as he has things to keep going for. Their children, his crew.

He does not know that he is immortal, and does not know what Law did until everyone starts dying around him.

Luffy slowly breaks as he loses everything, everyone he loves. It's when the last of his mortal friends dies, Zoro, who was determined to not go before Luffy, not to leave him alone.

That is when Luffy decides that he has had enough life. That he wants to be with everyone again. Brook once told him that immortality can be a curse. It's worse. Brook is still alive and they sometimes talk, the only thing that keeps Luffy's sanity together as the years pass and stop having any meaning.

He travels the world, looking for a way to break the curse, learning more than he has in years of adventure, still keeping his smile and finding joy but it gets harder, the more things seem to repeat. The world begins to feel small, and sometimes he still imagines Law or his crew being around. The hallucinations do not make life easier.

So when he sees a man who looks and sounds exactly like Law on the island where Law was once born. He brushes it off as another hallucination. "Can't get enough of me, huh Traffy? It's the third time this week" He sighs, running a finger over the rim of his glass.

The man just stares in something akin to shock. He blinks as if not quite believing his eyes.

Luffy tilts his head. The hallucinations usually have some witty rebuke. They don't just stare.

"Luffy?" The man's voice is shaky, he stumbles back, breath coming in quick huffs. "How did I..." Law grabs his head as a splitting headache brings memories with it.

It's Luffy's turn to stare in disbelief. It's been hundreds of years, he may come by the place once in awhile, this is the island where Law was born, its familiar, the little things that never change but he never expected to see the man again. "Don't joke like that" Voice low, a threat on his lips. "Traffy's dead"

"I, yes." The man's knuckles are white around his whiskey glass. "I was... I do... How am I here Luffy?

"If you're fake, I'm gonna kill you" Luffy gingerly approaches, poking the man on the arm. "My hallucinations usually don't feel like nothing"

"Hallucinations? Are there side effects to the surgery?" Law gets over some of his confusion, placing his hands on either side of Luffy's face, feeling his pulse. It beats like a drum, as it has since he awakened Nika. "Weird but normal for you"

Luffy chuckles "Only Traffy would go all doctor mode right now" he wraps both arms around Law, "I'm not letting you go this time." Now that's a promise he will not let either of them break, no matter what.

Luffy uses his willpower and gear 5 to keep Law alive out of determination and to spite whatever force tries to take him.

[margindoodles2407]

wippity woppity your attention span is now my property

(i'm getting desperate okay. there are only so many silly jokes i can make)

@seeking-elsewhither

Fives's eyes are wide, wider than normal, and his footfall is stumbling and his speech is beginning to slur, but it's not until he buckles forward and grabs him by the shoulders that Kix finally notices--

Oh. Oh, by the Sea. He's missing a finger.

Oh, stars above. He's not wearing his ring.

Oh, Bright Force. 

He's dying. 

"Fives," he gasps. Horrified. "You're not- your ring-"

"I know. I took it off. Had to-- had'ta cut it off, actually."

"Fives, you'll die!" He takes his brother's mangled, still-bleeding hand in his own two, oh so gently, but Fives simply pulls it away and raises it in a gesture of *stop*. 

"No. No, I'm not gonna... no, I won't die." He makes a face. "Well. Okay. I might die. But not cause'a the ring. I was poisoned. Neurotoxin. In my tea." He takes a shuddering breath and collapses again, pressing his flushed face into the crook of Kix's neck for a brief moment of respite from what must be a throbbing headache. He comes up again almost instantly. "Not... important right now. Kix, we're being deceived."

There is an urgency in his tone, a desperation in his eyes, and it scares Kix. Deeply. His brother, his vod-- his frater-- he's normally so level-headed. So straightforward. So clear and calm and composed. 

What could have possibly done this to the unflappable ARC Legionary?

"Frater meus, what do you mean?" he murmurs, resting a cool (bloody) hand against Fives's cheek. (He starts to lean into it but forces his eyes open and pulls away.) 

"Kix. Please. Listen to me. I don't... have the time to explain it right, right now." He takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and takes a few stumbling steps back. "But I promise, I'll tell you everything, when- when I'm better. I need you to do something for me, though. Please, Kix, if you've ever loved me, or any of our brothers. I need you to contact the Captain. General Skywalker, too, if you can. 'S an abandoned... tavern. Lower levels of the Island. Tell them to meet me there." He's halfway to the door already.

"Wait," Kix half-pleads, and Fives stops. "Wait. You said you were poisoned. Please, Fives, I'll talk to the Captain, but come with me back to the barracks. I'm sure I have an antidote somewhere, and you're clearly not--"

"Kix." His slurring is getting worse by the second, but his voice is gentle and warm and sad. "There's no time. I can't stay much longer; the High King put a bounty on my head and I'm sure the Guard are all over the Island looking for me. This tavern's probably one of the first places they'll search. And, Kix, frater, vod, you didn't come to the bar to play doctor. But I promise you, as soon as I've relayed my message to the Captain, you can give me the antidote and fix up my finger and do anything you feel the need to do to make me better."

There are tears in Kix's eyes that he knows he has no time to shed. He just wants to help. 

He knows that, right now, there's only one way he can.

"Okay. But please, Fives. Don't die before then."

His plea earns him a sad, tired smile. "Promitto." I swear it. 

He falters away again. Shakes his head to reorient himself and heads for the door. 

The stump of his finger is still dripping blood.

[yourgirlniki]

Jackie and Wilson

"For whatever poor soul is coming next"

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader

3k words

Tags!: No use of y/n, fluff, down bad Johnny MacTavish, not completely canon accurate Soap, first fic! 😎👍

A/N: This is based on Hozier's song Jackie and Wilson - I'm thinking I want this to be the beginning of a collection of one-shots based on his songs, depending on my free time! But again, first fic so please any comments would be greatly appreciated! Was nervous to post but ya only live once Hope you enjoy!

The cushion on the back of the booth wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever. The deep red bump didn’t do much to help an aching back, more of a thing that somewhat fixed the posture of those who sat at it. But who goes to a bar for comfort anyway? Dingy bars aren’t the first place most people would think to go back to after nearly dying halfway across the world.

The sticky floors, the mesh of posters and old mementos hanging on the brick walls. The neon lights, the potent smell- its headache inducing and you don't even have a hangover yet. And there are too many people in here, crowding pool tables and the small dance floor, (if you can even call it that), to be called someplace one would go to calm down and relax.

This is a fact that is true for most people.

But most people aren’t military. Even fewer are SAS.

And absolutely none are John MacTavish.

The man who idolizes the chaotic ways of the world above all else. That’s what has him still in the job quite frankly. The chaos, the ability to live and thrive in an insane environment. For someone like him, these things never truly bothered him. In an odd sense, the smell of alcohol, sweat and far too many bad ideas feel closer to home than he’s been in a few months. A comfort that most don't understand. But he does.

So even as exhaustion tries to take hold, the scott wears a signature giddy smile, adds a seemingly impossible pep to his step, and he drags the 141 into a back table, somehow always energetic. Even after practically wasting away in a desert for the past 3 months, he has energy. It’s honestly absurd.

Even worse is that he always finds a way for that energy to become contagious. As much as his teammates joke and grumble about it, Johnny was their way of restoration, to push forward. He would choose a shitty bar, and even shittier alcohol over a quiet apartment or the pile of paperwork that had to get done at some point. And so, the boys would too. Even if they hid it behind the facade of “babysitting” the grown man.

So now, here they sat, against the trashy cushions, with crappy music, in the dimly lit bar, with smiles and a sense of belonging. They call it a “celebration” of a mission well done, a nod to their success. Definitely not an excuse to just drink the night away, to get the mission out of their heads for a bit. To laugh with comrades and just be… domestic? Is that right? Close enough.. Yeah? Finding their small slot back into normal society.

Don’t get him wrong, Johnny loves his job. Loves what he does, but who doesn’t want to just have a drink at a bar with his mates every once and a while? And that's why he has his third beer in his hand and is snorting and a story Gaz is telling about one of his most recent hookups. A lady who was.. “Bloody crazy! I mean it. Seemed nice at first but don't be fooled, she was insane!”

Yeah, this is home. It’s where he belongs, where he wants to belong, he thinks. With his men, in the middle of nowhere chatting about anything and everything. Confiding in and teasing each other. He trusts them with his life, he can trust them to listen when need be. And yet… there is always that ache. The strange pull in moments like these like something is still missing. It’s been happening more often lately. And it's like an itch Johnny can't scratch. A puzzle piece he can't find but is still absent mindedly searching for. The only issue is he doesn't know what it is, that it just- isn't.

The chatter fades to a muffled sound in the scotts ears for a moment as he lets out a small, genuine smile looking at his group, sipping at the drink in his hand as his forearms lay themselves on the table, hands clasping. Taking a moment to truly thank whatever may be pulling the strings. Bringing him and his boys to safety. And maybe even a small prayer to tell him what the odd nagging in his brain is about. He takes a breath and relaxes, just for a moment. Looking around the bar, truly just admiring the world around him, the bustle of it all, the people with their own lives and ambitions.

How was he supposed to know that was a fatal mistake on his part?

He couldn’t. He didn’t.

He found out a second to late, registered it after he knew he was done for. It was one moment, a mistake, a pause, that would stick with him for as long as it dared. It was a magnet, an invisible force that pulled his very being toward it. The moment he nearly drooled his drink out from his now slack jaw.

Because when his eyes connect with the woman walking through the door, he swears time stopped.

Suddenly, the crappy bar didn’t smell as bad, the music wasn’t too loud, the cushion no longer made his back ache, the room got brighter just from her smile. The very ground shifted, and not in the drunken haze way. He warmed up, eyes wide. A thought process that if he opened them more he would see more. God, it felt like getting a cavity by now, she felt too sweet to even look at.

In a single moment the world shattered around him, everything he knew was thrown out a window, as his mind was occupied by one thought only.

It was only a moment… but by then he knew he was fucked, utterly and completely.

Fate or destiny, call it what you may. An answered prayer, an utter coincidence. It didn’t matter. The bar turned into a museum, a place to observe and admire as his eyes widened impossibly more as his head tilted watching her move. A giggle slipped under his breath as he thought he could be mistaken for Ghost at this point, with his starring.

But your pull, it was undeniable. Even the thought of looking away would cause you to vanish in a blink, never for Johnny to see again. And he couldn’t have that. Not when it was astonishing in the way you simply were.

It only got worse as your group got closer to theirs. A mere table away. When you first walked in it was a trap, a line that was cast into his pond and he was falling for the bait. Confidence is something he is used to in his line of work, but it was usually the cocky kind. The kind that made him want to kick a recruits teeth in for. But you were something different entirely. You demand attention, even if you didn't know it. A high held head, a testament to the world that you were there, and you were aware of it. Thank god it was his attention it demanded, because it was nothing short of a miracle.

The air you lived in became breathable, spreading to his little corner of the bar as he had to remind himself to actually inhale and exhale as he took in the sight over and over again. Committing it to memory. The world became a movie, a fictional place where he wasn’t. One he could only watch and revel in. It was the type that you knew was going to be good before it even began. The one you had been anticipating for and knew wouldn’t disappoint. His heart rate picked up, the same way it would in the field, but in a much less stressful manner now. Jesus, what was happening to him? You must have cursed him. That’s it. The only explanation. Bewitched by not only the view, but the melody of your laugh flooding his ears now at the closer proximity. Leaning against a standing table with a glass in hand, head slightly tilted enough that a stray hair fell to cover your face.

It was comical the way his heart sped up, watching as you chatted with your own group. Something so normal, something you see every single day, was making the big strong man’s hard race like it life or death. And he knew life or death.

Romeo had nothing on him.

Absolutely nothing in the way his brain knew he was to be yours. It had to be, he had to be. It’s how the story will be written, and he will play his role. Stealing your hear that way you have entranced his own. He wouldn’t be able to tell you when he got up. He can’t tell you how his body moved on its own, knowing what needed to be done but not conscious enough to alert his brain.

What he can tell about how perfect it felt to so much as stand there by you. Soaking in your presence was one thing, standing in it next to you was another entirely.

And that's how he found himself face to face with you, who turned to him with a puzzled look, but a kind smile.

He was a goner.

“Oh… umm- Hello, can I help you?” Is all you had to say to him to confirm his every thought. This woman could heal every wound with her voice alone. And her eyes so much as finally looking back at him felt like he was seen for the first time in his life.

“Uhh.. sir? Are you alright?” Your voice rang out again, pulling him back to reality as you hand waved in front of his face slightly. A flattering smile on our lips and your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost concerned. What came over John MacTavish in that moment is unexplainable.

“I seem to have lost my number—can I have yours?”

Her eyebrows raised. She blinks. Then tilting her head slightly.

He could die right then and there.

Leaning against the table next to her with a stupid, crooked smile and a raised eyebrow, as if he didn't just embarrassed the hell out of himself. A pick up line? That's the best you could do, John? Really? Welp, there goes every chance you had, cut your losses and- Laughter chimed in his ears like wedding bells. And that’s when he froze, every negative thought draining him as he became light. You laugh was intoxicating more than any drink or drug. The kind that was unapologetic and genuine. The kind that has the back of your palm finding your lips as you cover your giggles, nose scrunching and eyes squinting due to the smile. One that made both of you have pink cheeks for different reasons. A joke that probably shouldn't have been laughed at, but coming from the man before you, it eased the tension in the air.

It must have been the prettiest sight Johnny had ever seen.

He doesn’t know how he did it, probably because it wasn’t him at all. Must have been pure luck that after that horrible entrance she seemed kind enough to humor him that night. He bought you a drink and hung on every word you so much as muttered in his direction. You laughed at every joke, good or bad. He made it his mission to make sure he always heard that laugh from then on. To produce it from you.

Oddly enough, it turns out you were one of few words when it came to the actual conversation. And yet it was never rude, ore quiter nature. But more like you were always listening. Every word John rambled on about you picked up, asking questions or simply nodding, expressing your thoughts in your facal expression. Because of this, it seemed like he never looked away from you either, not that it was a bother, it was strangely alright. It wasn’t judgemental, only observant.

He thought he might go buy a ticket for the lottery after you agreed to give him your number by the end of the night. He was more smitten than he’s ever been, and on the dates to follow the swooning only got worse.

Every moment with you felt exhilarating, like he found that missing piece finally after a long search. And that piece loved him back He was insufferable, always gushing about the woman he has the opportunity to take out on a date. And the dates where nothing less of spectacular. The pair was stupid like teenagers in love, but more sentimental, understanding the weight of things better. Arguments never lasted long and if they did they were cleared up before any damage was done. She understood what his job ment to him, and told him she would never make him change that about himself. It was his passion, she can share.

“Just so long as you promise to come back to me.”

And from that day forth he would make a pinky promise every time he left. He was to come home. Time passed quickly, in flashes. It felt like his life went from downtime in between missions, to missions in between downtime. His heart ached for you in the days he was gone, but he always knew he would be home. He would see you again. He found a want to live, even more now that he found his world.

And as time passed them by, he found out she was perfect in the all the ways he could dream of. Especially in the impossible task of calming him down as well. Rough mission? She already had his favorite meal ready and was soothing him over. Nightmares? She was there either on the phone or more recently next to him to hold him and run her fingers through his hair. To much energy? To rowdy? You always found a way to settle him down. His anchor. And he would do the same for her if the day presented itself.

Another plus that made it all that much more, everyone liked you.It wasn’t hard too of course, but it proved even moreso how lucky he got. His family adored you, his sisters taking you in as part of the family already, much quicker than any of his other past relationships. It made him well up with pride.

Even when he officially introduced you to the 141, it was with open arms as well. If he wasnt a unit before, he absolutely was one now. Maybe just a tad bit more annoying with his bragging but of course he brags. Those boys knew how much you were doing for him, and you knew they were keeping him safe. It was a harmony that both sides respected.

A part of him knew that even if all of those people didn’t like her, (an impossible feat if he does say so himself), nothing would change for him. You were his, he was yours. Irrevocably and absolutely. If the world didn’t want them, the world wasn’t for them. Simple as that. Life became sweeter, dreamlike as he fell into a comfortable rhythm. It was almost unbelievable, no, it was unbelievable.

One day, as he was laying on the couch, laying gently on you, nearly dozing off. Then he felt your hand on his shoulder, a soft pat that made him stir but not move as he hummed in response. “Johnny?” You said, soft enough that he had to stir slightly closer to your voice. But he didn’t look up, kept his heavy eyes shut as he mumbles a small “what?”

“Earth to Johnny..” Hmm, that's odd. It mde him sit up the slightest bit more. Must have been laying on his ear wrong, your voice sounded weird. And another pat on his shoulder, a bit harder this time.

“MacTavish!”

And then he blinked. He was sitting up straight, eyes wide as he made eye contact with his Captain across from him, in the same place he left him at the bar. The bar? His cheek stung from the movement of no longer resting on… his palm? His? No that’s not right. His head hurt slightly as the smell of bar flooded his nose. What was he doing in a-

“Soap, you alright? You were out for a bit. Staren’ at nothing.” Gaz said with a smile, slightly concerned.

He looked around, baffled as he took in the same dingy bar he had met you in. In fact in the same spot exactly, same clothes, same drink. Hold on, that can't be right. His head swung back around as he took in the table next to them was, empty. Bottles and cups discarded to the side, napkins crumpled. He heard the bar door shut as his eyes flicked over and spotted the same woman walk away outside, smiling the same as she was before. Only then did it make sense.

His mind filled in the blanks for him as he rubbed his face with a groan. When something is too good to be true, it's probably because it is. Gaz was patting his back as Ghost and Price shared a look that had Price hiding a smirk. But it didn’t matter to Johnny.

What mattered was she’d already left.

The boys decided that's where the night should end, Johnny's head almost embarrassingly hung low as they paid their bill and called a car to take them back to base. This is the first time Scott has sulked in a while, running his hands through his mohawk as he kicked himself for being so stupid. Caught up in a daydream of a random woman at the bar, what a stupid fantasy to get caught in. he was practically mourning something he doesn't even have, never did have. And now something he wouldn’t have either.

The moment changed his life for sure, a memory of fake memories that will haunt his little brain every once in a while when he's bored and remembers this night.

[sapphire-weapon]

So like, I have a very different opinion about the new direction Ada may be taking. To clarify, I know it's RE and I should never expect masterfully skilled story telling and I also don't want to stir the Ada pot, lol. Just had something niggling at me and was wondering if anybody out there can see where I'm coming from or give their explanation as to WHY I'm wrong, because I absolutely could be, but disagree like a normal and rational adult (very uncommon RE fandom occurrence /j).

In a nutshell, her arc is just fucking stupid. Is it better than OG? Yes, because the original practically just doesn't have one *shrug*, but the new direction just makes her so incredibly unlikeable and a bit cringe worthy. The whole "well I didn't THINK about the massive consequences of my actions until now honestly" trope... dude she's like thirty years old. "Oh, this guy was kind over half a decade ago and planted a seed in my brain, despite the fact I'm already a grown woman". The comparison to Ashley and Leon and what could've been. Blah, blah.... it's still incredibly sexist. It just is. My problem isn't that "Ada's mean", it's the fact that they're writing her almost infantile with how she thinks. There are plenty of other women in RE who've been through shit, had their arcs and did their thing in a way that kept their own agency. That's the part that matters, but remake Ada still hasn't quite gotten there. I think, in the long term, they WANT to make her into something that resembles a human, but it just slightly misses the mark still. She's incredibly selfish, that's fine, but her reasoning for change and introspection is headache inducing and doesn't make much sense. "I'll actively partake in terrorism for profit because I'm just that gal, y'know? I was born a femme fatale baby... but... what do you mean I could've had a romance? People I KNOW might also be impacted? Nevermind, now I'll consider why this might be bad." Dude..... come on.....

My very, very unpopular take... if this is seriously the line of thought they want to keep for her, I would rather she be killed off, and I say that as someone who ironically actually likes her and WANTS a decent story. Better to have Leon experience some forgiveness arc bullshit or whatever than have to painfully sit through another entire story of a grown woman with the reasoning skills of a preteen.

Again, I know this'll probably garner vitriol, I'm just curious to hear why I may be just approaching this the wrong way. I will admit I have knee jerk reactions to sexism, so I could very much just have a clouded vision of the potential that IS there and misinterpreting what I'm seeing in the first place *shrug*. What are your thoughts? Can you at least make sense of why I feel the way I do about this particular aspect of the game?

Your analysis is flawed for one very specific reason:

You think Ada changed from RE2make.

She hasn't.

Ada's still only out for Ada. The only thing that Leon changed about her was that he taught her how to better take care of herself. He taught her that she can't isolate in her independence, because things that go wrong for other people can negatively impact her, too.

The person who actually softens Ada is Luis, not Leon. But even then, there's no reason to think that Ada changed. He softened her to the point where she felt compelled to honor his memory and fulfill his dying wish, but she's not a better person because of it. She's gained honor from her interactions with Luis, not kindness.

She's going to still do the Ada thing of working for bad guys and profiting from the black market, because it's not about "oh no people I like might get hurt ;_;" That's not what Remake did with her. She's still doing her Ada thing. She only decides against giving the Amber to Wesker because it's the final part of honoring Luis's memory. Luis died to save two people. To then kill billions after the fact using the research that he no longer wanted to have hurt anyone is dishonorable.

But once her time with Los Illuminados is done, her time honoring Luis's memory is done. Whatever happens in Africa or the ESR or Edonia or China following this has nothing to do with him, so she's going to go back to doing her thing.

The point of having Ada watch The Leon and Ashley Show is to solidify Leon's autonomy from her and to try to further showcase how selfish Ada is. Ada still looks at Leon as a thing -- he's something she wants, and she doesn't understand why she can't have him. Making her watch The Leon and Ashley Show is meant to try to get her to reflect on why.

But it doesn't work. Because Ada hasn't changed. And won't change. And possibly can't change.

Through Leon in RE2make, Ada has become better suited to be independent. And through Luis in RE4make, Ada has become someone who keeps her word. That's what the Remakes have changed about her. That's why her story is so much better. They're not trying to make her a good guy. They're not trying to have her rethink her life. They're not trying to have her show remorse.

They're giving honor to a dishonorable character, along with a consistently selfish mindset to continue the work that she does. That's all they're doing.

And not for nothing anon but the way you keep calling her stupid and infantile is way more sexist than anything the narrative did with her. This ask came off like you hated Ada first and then reached for some sort of explanation as to why you could be justified in hating her second. There are legitimate reasons to criticize Ada, but you've cited none of them. Instead of looking at what the character was actually doing, you just slapped "she's stupid" on her.

ETA: added this post to my meta directory, because it seems important here and I should probably have it on hand.

[transpoettryinghisbest]

It’s time for another projecty headcannon fic lol. This one feels kinda canon? And that’s good enough for me. Trigger warnings are in the tags.

“Well, if it isn't my favourite detective.” 

“Fuck off, Gavin.” 

“Hey, that's a little mean. I was only going to ask you for-” 

“No. Okay? Whatever it is, I can't do it for you, I'm up to my eyes in work as it is. I've got piles of paperwork, I'm investigating three different crime scenes, I have to prepare my testimonies on each of them, and I have to find time to order more fingerprinting powder because I'm almost out. So no, I don't have time for your 'only' this, I'm too busy with every-” 

The room spins. My vision blurs a little, but I try to focus on one spot. 

“Fraulein? Something the matter?”

His voice sounds distant and foggy. I go to reply, but I can't. All of my energy is focused on keeping myself upright. 

Not here. Not now.

“Ema. What's wrong, are you okay?” 

“I'm fine.”

My head is throbbing. I feel Klavier take my arm and lead me somewhere. I'm too weak to resist. 

“Sit down, just get your breath back.”

I lie my head back against the wall and close my eyes. I feel marginally better. 

“Should I get help? An ambulance?” 

“No.” 

“But this could be serious, I don't…” 

He's freaking out. He doesn't want me to realise, but he is. It's making me feel dizzier. No matter how many times I've been through this, it doesn't get any easier or any less scary, and him panicking isn't making it any better. I barely have the strength to explain it to him, but I try. 

“VS,” I manage to get out. 

“Huh?”

“I have VS. Look it up.” 

He hesitates. “I'm going to get Herr Edgeworth.” 

He leaves, and a moment later I hear him come back. I open my eyes a little bit and see the red blur of Mr Edgeworth's suit. I close my eyes again. 

“Ema, did you have another fainting spell?” 

I nod. 

“Did you injure yourself?” 

I shake my head a little bit, trying not to worsen my headache. 

“She didn't actually faint, Herr Edgeworth, she looked like she was going to, so I sat her down.”

“That was good thinking, Klavier. Ema, do you want me to call someone or do you just want to sit here for a few minutes?” 

“I'll sit.” 

I think about all of the work I have to get back to after this. I'm just wasting time.

“Alright. Klavier, can you stay with her? I have to get back to work. Just don't stand her up too quickly, and if she stops breathing, then you need to get help. Otherwise she should recover on her own and not need any medical attention.” 

Klavier looks bewildered. “Is this…a normal thing?” 

“Legally, I'm not allowed to disclose anything about my employees' health, you know that.” 

“Right, but-” 

“She'll be fine, Klavier. Ema, do you need anything?” 

I shake my head. And he leaves. Klavier stays, but still seems uncomfortable. 

“Does this happen to you a lot?” he asks. 

“Sometimes. Not for a while.” 

He gets down on the floor across from me. 

“Ema. I know you hate me. But I'm worried about you.” 

“I know. I can tell.” 

“Can you please tell me what's going on.”

I sigh. “Vasovagal Syncope or 'VS' is when a person's blood pressure drops due to overheating, emotional stress or standing for a long period of time. It results in dizziness, tunnel vision and loss of consciousness. It's not dangerous to the patient unless said patient is over 60, in which case the fall may cause harm.” 

He blinks at me, clearly taken aback. 

“It's not serious, Gavin, my body's just overreacting cos I've been stressed out lately.” 

“Sorry I added to your stress.” 

“Eh, it's what you do.” 

“Have you always had it?” 

“Well anyone can experience it, but some are more prone to it. I guess I got lucky. It's also genetic.” 

“You seem to know a lot about it.” 

“It's better to be informed. Otherwise you're just on the floor and you don't know why. I was ten the first time I fainted. I didn't know what was going on, I thought I was dying.”

“That must've been scary.” 

I can't remember what caused it. I just remember waking up on the floor of my maths classroom with my ears ringing and everyone staring at me. They kept trying to talk to me but I just felt so sleepy. I didn't know how I got on the floor. I felt like I was in a weird dream or something, begging to just be back to normal, learning about boring equations. They called Lana and told her that I should be careful from now on and learn to manage my triggers. So since then I've tried my best. 

“These days it's just annoying. I used to tell people I was clumsy and would slip on the floors so that if they ever saw me on the ground they wouldn't freak out. I didn't want attention and I didn't want to be treated weirdly, so I just stopped telling people.”

“At least Herr Edgeworth knows.” 

“My sister told him. She used to be his boss, so I've known him since I was a kid. But I wasn't going to tell you. And you can't tell anyone else, okay? Or your life won't be worth living.” 

“Are you sure that's wise, Fraulein?” 

“I mean it, Gavin, don't fucking test me.” 

“Alright! I'm sorry. I get it.” 

“You don't. You really don't. Don't act like you know what this is like. I have to deal with hostage situations, domestic abuse, child murder. I've seen too many dead bodies to count, but I faint over a bit of fucking paperwork?” 

“Ema-” 

“I didn't choose this path, I'm not cut out for this. But they need me, so I just have to get on with it. I'm wasting my time talking to you right now when I should be working. Just leave me alone.” 

I stand up. 

And wake up on the ground. 

If a person experiencing VS faints or comes close to fainting, they must wait fifteen minutes before getting up again. Recovery can't be rushed. 

My ears are ringing. My head really fucking hurts. I can sense Klavier over me, but I don't want to open my eyes and look at him. I don't want to hear him tell me he told me so. 

“Can you hear me?” he asks. 

I nod. 

“Okay. That's good. Should I get Herr Edgeworth?” 

“I don't know.” 

I start crying. 

One of the side effects of VS is emotional distress. Not because it damages your limbic system, but because the feeling of losing control and awareness of your body, even for a second, really fucks with you. 

Klavier starts stroking my arm. Usually I'd shove him off and tell him not to fucking touch me, but I don't have any energy. It's kind of comforting, though I don't want to admit that. 

“You're gonna be alright, Ema.” 

“My head hurts.” 

“You hit it pretty hard. Is that normal?” 

“Yeah.” 

He very gently turns my head up, then lowers it back down again. 

“Okay, you're not bleeding.” 

I'm shaking, still pathetically snivelling to myself. I don't know how I'm going to live this down. I can't let this get out. If the higher ups learn that I have a fainting problem, they're going to question if I can really do my job. They're going to make me wear something that documents my VS, making people be extra gentle around me all the time. I can't live like that. I'm not this problem. 

“I can do my job, Gavin.” 

“Well right now, I think it's safer if you stay on the ground.” 

“I can do my job. I can't let this stop me. I can't let anyone find out. Please.” 

“I won't tell anyone. You can trust me.” 

I don't want to have to trust him. I don't like him. And I don't like that he's actually being nice for once. If he can take this seriously, why can't he take everything else seriously?

“Are you sure it's just work you're stressed about?” he asks me. 

“You're not my therapist.” 

He chuckles. “No. But I do care, even if you don't want me to. You should tell Herr Edgeworth that it's too much. I'm sure he'd understand.” 

“I can't. I can't let him know that I'm not good enough.” 

“You are good enough. I've seen you work, you're smart, and you don't give up easily. Clearly, because you're still fighting.” 

“I don't want to be a detective, Gavin.” 

“Huh?” 

“I don't want this. Ever since I was a little kid, I wanted to be a forensic investigator. This was just to help me get there. But I failed the exam.” I cry harder. “I don't even know why I'm still in this job. I failed.” 

“Is that what you're so stressed about?” 

“I don't know.”

Crying is making my headache worse, my head feels like it's splitting open. 

“You could always try again. There's no law against that. If you study hard, focus on what you think you screwed up last time, try not to drive yourself crazy, you might just get in.” 

“You really think so?” 

“If this is what you want. I know I can't stop you from getting whatever it is you want, why should anyone or anything else?” 

I sniffle. 

“Well it's worth thinking about, anyway. Are you ready to get up yet?” 

I shake my head. I'm not risking passing out again, even if I don't want to stay here. 

“Okay. Take your time.” 

“You can leave if you want to. I know you're probably busy.” 

“Nonsense, I wouldn't leave you like this. Not until you're upright, at least. Besides, Herr Edgeworth told me to watch you.”

“You wouldn't want to get in trouble with the boss.” 

“And I wouldn't want to risk one of my friends getting hurt.” 

“We're friends?” 

“Sure. Aren't we?” 

Usually I have no problem telling him exactly what I'm thinking. Why do I suddenly feel bad? Am I too harsh on him? Does he not know what my problem with him is? 

“What if I sing to you?” he says. “Would that make you feel better?”

“Do you want to be the next one to slam your forehead into the ground?”

He laughs. “You're worse than any of the critics. You've always been forthcoming with how you feel, it's something I respect about you.”

“Well what do you expect? Me to be some kind of weird suck up because you're a pretty pop star?” 

“You'd be surprised how much I get that.” 

“Oh poor you.” 

I think about it for a moment. I guess it would be kind of grating if no one ever took you seriously. But Gavin chooses to act this way. 

Well he's not acting like that now. 

“How long's it been?” 

“Since you fainted or since you started to feel faint?” 

“Fainted.” 

“Fifteen minutes. Give or take.” 

I try to sit up. The world is still spinning, but I can stay seated upright for a bit. I expect Gavin to leave, but he stays. 

“Are you sure you're going to be okay? Maybe you should take the rest of today off.”

“Fuck that.”

“I’m sure Herr Edgeworth would understand.”

“No, I…I don’t need all that time to recover. I don’t want to waste the rest of today. And I don’t want to be treated like I’m not capable.”

“You are capable.”

“Then let me prove it.”

I shakily get to my feet. Gavin has his hands out like he’s ready to catch me if I fall, but he doesn’t touch me.

“I’m okay. I mean it. I’m fine.”

“Alright. Well if you need me, I’m around. I’ll try not to bother you with any more work tasks.”

He turns to leave.

“Gavin? Thanks. You're…you’re not always so bad, y’know.”

He grins.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head.”

[threeshotsofespressou]

Arien/Ballister headcanons

This is just a thread of headcanons with Ballister and Arien, an OC made by goldenheart-supremacy. Bro also made fics and arts so go check them, they are really nice to read. Helped me with my headache. First one is focused on Goldenheart, second one includes more stuff with Arien.

Also this post is bloody subjective so I'm not claiming that it would happen if Arien was real.

(also I'm writing it while being sick so It might lack logic)

So there's my impression of dynamics between Ballister and Arien

Throughout fanfic, Arien helps Ballister with flowers, even though at the time Bal had not so good reputation. He does it with "Ugh, fine" attitude since it means actually doing something. But the thigh is, he becomes one of those people who can see the real side of Ballister, even though he doesn't interact with him as much.

Therefore, I think his attitude towards Ballister will obviously change. And for me personally it would change from "Neutral" (you exist, but I don't really care) to "Positive neutral" (you exist, and I'm okay with this).

So at the moment when Ballister hugged him after all his help, I'm sure he didn't really mind it and was pretty much like "Mm, It's fine". I'm also convinced that he pushed Ballister off himself is bc Ambrosius was watching, so the more they stayed like that, more headache he will gain himself in the future. Maybe if Ambi wasn't there, he either will wait for him to let go or will ask "You're done?" if he wears out of patience.

I also think that he might've help him sometimes, not straight up but still. For example: - He might've seen Ballister sneak up to train more, but if guards asked him, he will say he saw nothing (although he might just think "snitches get stitches")

- Flower language. Because what if HE was the one to give the idea to gift Sunflowers? Like if he visited his sister (and she after a talk with Ballister thought about the best option of flowers might've asked Arien about his opinion with no particular context) and suggested sunflowers. Bc now I'm convinced that if this man has a nerdy side then he will be nerd for flowers. Probably will know every meaning and peculiarities.

- Arien might've been one of the reasons Ambrosius understood his feelings for Bal. Bc if someone hugs your "friend" you won't react like that person just kidnapped your puppy.

HOWEVER I also think that he will also not hesitate to help him straight up, just not so active. Like when he gave him his cloak, although he might've not and simply not care. Another thing that caught my sick brain is possibility that Arien helped Bal with training, adding little notes of why Bal wasn't able to do some things correctly (since Arien and other knights were a bit more experienced at the beginning)

Quick to adulthood. I want to think that they sometimes can chat nicely about casual stuff, just getting to know each other nicely without pushing too much, enjoying each other's company. So maybe they will trust each other enough with some personal stuff they don't normally tell people. I just thought about the scene where they both looking at the kingdom from the wall, accidentally meeting each other before, casually talking, which ended up with some deep personal things. And at this exact moment when both will suddenly realize that "Oh. We are friends" or something like that. Bc they won't say it out loud, especially Arien - he will think that it's unnecessary.

That's pretty much it. I can write much more but my brain is dying so no, not today. I'll just leave you with dirty Arien doodle which I tried to draw but ended up hating.

[eartheats]

[@champ-inthemaking] 7 13 20 21

7. whos yr best friend n how much money would it take for u to stab em (knife is complementary)

oh gosh...i mean, not counting all of the people on rotomblr (you could not pay me enough to stab caoimhe or miss bryony or any others!!), k?? madi's pretty close up there too but k and i used to get in trouble all the time together, and we kinda curse each other and owe each other a bit...

but probably?? 20,000 a day for life?? k would understand i think, but i'd probably have to share it for his hospital bills. which like, worth it??

13. most tempting forbidden food (revives soap pods lava that kinda thing)

honestly. there are so many things out there, but shout-out to the ability capsule?? i kind of wanna chew on one and see what happens. k said if i ever do that he needs to be there to record it tho

20. rank all the times u almost died from coolest to least cool

5. the recent mountain trip that i tripped and fell and nearly got frostbite from. 0/10 do not recommend 4. there was this kale tequila i bought that i drank and i heard someone say "pretty sure if you drank more of that you'd be dead" and i couldn't tell how serious they were??? anyway 1.5/10, the headache i got from it after was splitting and if i'm gonna die, i at least want it to be fun and fulla hubris!! 3. so i almost drowned once playing in cinnabar??? there's this weird water that's like, really close to the island and my parents told me no swimming, but lil me was like "but what if...swimming". anyway lulu had to fish me out but i saw some weird shit!! like these ultra weird staticy pokemon?? for that alone, 3/10. 2. so i don't know how close i came to dying but shout-out to the time lulu and i were playing in that old abandoned mansion and a buncha raticate decided they wanted to take a bite and lulu was like "uh, heck no!!". lulu just picked me up and i felt like i was flyin' for a while!! solid 7/10. 1. so one time i actually decided that i wanted to go to vermillion instead of our normal cinnabar trip?? just to kinda check it out. anyway the boat started movin' again and i decided to try and leap out from the top of the boat to try and get onto the vermillion dock but fell in the water and kept trying to swim. it took a while, a couple sailors had their water types bring me up and help me and i'm pretty sure the sailors were worried because i couldn't swim, but shortly after i just went and ran off into the city before bumpin' into this guy in green?? he stopped me, the sailors caught up and he and the sailors talked for a bit and the guy laughed and said something about me being pretty gutsy, bringing out a magnezone, which was the coolest thing i'd seen like, ever, and it helped plop me back on the boat!! my parents weren't too pleased, but man. i hope that guy's still around, he seemed cool and i wanna meet him again!! 9.5/10

21. bare minimum act of dipshittery that would provoke u to fistfight a stranger in a shopping mall

neil. i work in retail. i wanna do this on the daily.

but an~y~way, the second i see someone liter in a shopping mall or leave behind an awful or just easily clean-up-able mess?? it's on sight. cleaning workers are the backbone of all of our lives and i hate hate HAAAATE watching people act like "oh it's their job to clean it up! we don't have to care how messy we're being!!" TAUROS SHIT. CLEAN YOUR MESS UP OR I WILL BEAT YOU WITH MY FUTURE SICK CRUTCHES

[ambrossart]

Hello, I just wanted to tell you that chapter 20 and 21 are one of my favorites, probably because they are a bit more focused on Victor (who has become my favorite character since those two chapters when he was Patrick at the beginning, although I still love him too) and seeing a bit of Vic's daily life makes you feel more attached to the character and all the little details about Evelyn and Victor childhood give me a kind of nostalgia and sadness, chapter 21 really felt like I was really in victor's room you are great at creating atmospheres and moods and reading vic's thoughts and feelings about his family and how he feels about it was great and made me feel a bit sad 😢 i feel like vic has a very low opinion of himself himself and as he himself is considered a disappointment, and another thing that I loved, these two talking about music and joking, small details like that Víctor uses shampoo, his space pajamas or the guitar his mother bought him, which by the way if Victor I learned to play the guitar I would fall even more in love and totally victor with an eyebrow piercing would really look great if he hadn't gotten infected of course, and the lotion victor had in that drawer I think I have an idea what it could be if he got so nervous 😂; Anyway, all those little facts and more things that I didn't want to comment because I feel like I'm rambling too much make me love these chapters, you don't know how many times I've read chapter 21 (I really plan to draw a picture about chapter 21 and Victor and all those little anecdotes)

YESSSSS!!!

Chapters 20 and 21 are some of my favorites too, and for all the reasons you've said.

These chapters are all about Evelyn learning about the "new Vic" and realizing that, although he's dyed his hair and developed new interests, he's still the same boy she knew as a kid. And I think that finally clicked for her when she discovered his natural roots coming back in. It's a small moment, but it's a really important one. Here Evelyn is, surrounded by change and almost mourning the loss of her childhood friend, and she suddenly sees a glimpse of the "old Vic" hiding beneath the surface. It's extremely comforting for her and it gives her a lot of hope for the future.

These chapters also let us see a side of Vic that he hides from everyone else. He might prefer to be seen as this moody, miserable asshole who hates everyone, but he's clearly using that as a mask. Vic isn't withdrawn because he hates people. He's withdrawn because he genuinely struggles with everyday socialization, and has struggled with this since he was a little kid. High school is an absolute nightmare for Vic. He's constantly surrounded by people. The hallways are loud and chaotic. All the competing sounds trigger his sensory issues. He gets overwhelmed, overstimulated, and he suffers with painful, throbbing headaches (I mean, the poor boy has to shove his head in his locker to get some relief 🥺). But of course he doesn't want people to see him struggle, so he just hides it as best as he can and tries to act normal. It's gotta be exhausting. No wonder the guy needs to smoke a bowl when he gets home from school. 😂

That's why it breaks my heart to see Vic being so unkind to himself. My favorite moment in Chapter 21 is when Evelyn is talking about how she used to daydream about what they would be like when they were older. Vic automatically assumes that Evelyn is disappointed by how he turned out, and that is just SO SAD to me. I think Vic is deeply disappointed by how he turned out. I think he hoped he would grow out of his issues and eventually become "normal," and that by being "normal" he would finally become the kind of person Evelyn would like. I think that's partially why he was so reluctant to return her feelings when they were younger (that and Evelyn came on really, really strong and likely freaked him out). He probably assumed that Evelyn had some superficial crush on him and that one day she would see the real him and not like him anymore.

😭

I love Vic so much. Regardless of how this story ends, you better believe there’s a timeline where he and Evelyn end up together, and it’s the best timeline ever because those two are absolutely adorable. ❤️❤️❤️

[bluestarrysky1]

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, pulling the stack of documents in front of me, raising my pen and preparing myself for another sleepless night. Not from the work itself- no, I did not rise to the position of General in the demon army to be afraid of a few measly pages- but from another thing entirely that was terrifying enough to cause nightmares.

"Whatcha doin'?" A woefully familiar voice cried out and and bright blue eyes were shoved in my vision.

"Mortal." I tsked and shoved her head away with my palm, marvelling at how she could stand that repulsive shade she dyed her hair- bubblegum pink she'd called it. I prefer to call it a monstrosity. "I told you not to bother me while I'm working."

"Yeah, I know." Jasmine shrugged and draped across the second armchair and helped herself to one of my cookies. The audacity. I was looking forward to eating those later. Yet I couldn't bring myself to bite back upon seeing the smile blooming across her face.

"Then why are you here?" A headache started to form at my temples- one that seemed to appear only when she was in the room.

"I got bored, Aaron."

"How can you be bored? I ensured your room was filled with commodities humans liked- books, strange movies with- frankly- offensive depictions of my kind, paper, and even colouring pencils. Do you understand the lengths I had to go in order to get colouring pencils approved? Especially after the Great Colour Massacre of '98?"

"Oh I've been meaning to ask you about that since everyone keeps mentioning it." Jasmine yawned. "But I can't be bothered to hear another boring legal sermon. Got enough of that from the humans on Earth. Feels like I'm back home again."

"You should go home," I muttered childishly, not meaning a single word of it yet I would never say it out loud. I'd never live it down.

Jasmine threw a lazy smile my way and twirled a knife between her fingers. "And deprive you of my wonderful company? Never."

She continued to chatter about random things from her day- like how she bonded with the staff in the kitchen (Devil knows why they like her), irritated some officials to the extent that they set the ends of her hair on fire (so that was the weird smell). Normally, I was able to drown out her words and treat them like white noise, but today she seemed to be more interested in my work than usual.

"That looks interesting." She pointed to a red file on the 'completed' pile. "What's it about?"

My heart sank and I stopped writing, taking off my glasses to look at her in the eye. "Minister Belthazor died earlier today, and that is the incident report."

"Oh thank goodness." Jasmine's shoulders dropped and she let out a relieved sigh. "I thought something serious had happened."

"Jasmine!"

"What? I never liked the old git and I know you didn't either! He was such a huge pig I'm surprised no one offed him earlier."

"Well you certainly tried." I sniffed, leaning back in my chair and recalling the incident two weeks ago where she tried to slit his throat with a pair of scissors. Thanks to that, scissors are banned in all government houses and most schools use plastic ones now.

"I don't regret it!" She declared, tilting her chin upwards with pride. It was this arrogance that caused her to never back down from a fight, and me to drag her away from lunging at powerful demons. "He was being racist to you, and I can't stand seeing my friends being bullied."

"Oh so we're friends now?" I sneered, ignoring the warmth that spread through me at her words. Friends. Have I ever had one of those?

"I've put up with you for a year, so of course we are. So, how did he die?"

I graciously ignored the insult. "Someone sent him a flower bouquet and a pie as a present and he didn't think to check it properly. You see, they both contained poppies- the one thing that demons are deathly allergic to." I didn't mind telling the Pink Human this- demons have an extremely sensitive sense of smell. The only reason the minister was unable to detect it was because it had been masked with another scent.

"Makes sense, that's how I would do it. It's a pretty effective technique."

My head snapped up and it felt like a band was tightening around my chest. "What?"

She didn't respond, staring and picking the edge of her cuticles while humming a song I knew was a human children sang- I believe it was called 'Ring a ring o' roses'?

"Jasmine," I said softly, straining my ears to make sure that no one was outside. "Where were you this morning?"

She looked up, the innocence in her wide eyes contrasted by the smirk playing on her lips. "I was out picking flowers, Aaron." Her gaze was wide and unblinking as a sudden chill crept over the room. "I told you, I can't stand seeing my friends being bullied."

The scariest phrase that can come out of a Human’s mouth is “Makes sense, that’s how i’d do it”

[nathank77]

4/25/24

12:37 a.m

I'm freaking out I called poison control. When I was doing the freon both at 4 p.m and like 7:30 p.m the nozzle at the base of the can was loose and freon leaked into the air more than a few times. This is what I get for not paying some guy hundreds to do it.

I got a headache, I still have a headache... I'm trying to pinpoint when I got a headache. It absolutely was not earlier in the day. I feel like it happened around 8 or even 9-10 p.m. when I got stressed about money and my hair clippers...

The most exposure I had to the freon was at that 4 p.m window cause I spent 20-30 minutes adding it. And some was def leaking out for a while..

I'm trying to retrace my steps. When I went out there to do the Coolant. I did it first cause my car had cooled down from running. Then I attached the gauge and read that it was in 30 psi. Then I believe I turned it up to 4 on my ac to see if the compressor kicked on. And when I looked it, it still said 30... then I turned down my ac and I think at that point I let more freon out of the bottle. I think some came out of the sides of the nozzle.

I remember when I did it at 4 p.m. some hit my shirt.. but I def didn't have a headache then and my stomach looks fine.

I remember seeing it went into the red. I didn't put anymore freon into the system at that point. I capped the valve and checked my car and went inside. I think I put more freon in it BEFORE I checked if the compressor was working. When I wrote that blog entry that was as I was walking into the house and I was done with it all. I didn't have a headache I think.

I do believe as I was buzzing my body or in the shower I started getting a headache. Idk. Microsleep really fucked with my memory..

All I know is I'm scared I have freon poisoning. The guy at poison control said I'm outside the window but based on this I had exposure and got a headache within a hour or 2... but I mean he was implying I'd have gotten a headache immediately...and breathing issues...

I'm trying to calm down bc you can't test for freon poisoning. Basically if I go to the ER they'll monitor my heart and breathing and potentially send me on my way if everything is normal. If it's not they may admit me and watch me. But my breathing is normal.

My headache isn't. I still have one and I'm on 400mg of Ibuprofen.... I don't really get headaches much. I mean maybe it's psychosis.. I don't have any other symptoms of freon poisoning. All I know is i had mild exposure today in open air...

So I'm panicking and I want to listen to the guy at poison control but why isn't my headache gone yet?

I don't want to die. I can hear my auditory hallucination going away. I can hear it dying. Yea I got a lot to work on but I want to live. If I could beat this. I'm going to work hard on my ocd and live. I'm going to go out hiking by myself. Sit in the park and listen to the wind in the trees. I don't want to die.

I don't want to go to the er for no reason but I don't want to suddenly have a seizure or something. Idk what to do.

The tactiles aren't this strong usually. I still get them. I mean sometimes I floss and I feel food stuck up in my gumline for hours and I know it's not there. Sometimes my tooth hurts for a hour for no apparent reason. I hate not being able to trust my body.

I know i got exposed to it bc it came from the nozzle loosening and it hit my shirt. Is this freon poisoning? Or is this a tactile that started as a headache? Bc it can play off my anxiety...

Also when did the headache start??? All I can say with certainly is it didn't start until at least 8 p.m.. it may have happened after the shower.... cause I do remember thinking I'll take Ibuprofen if it continues once I bought the Buzzers.

Idk all I know is the headache is persistent and otherwise I have no other symptoms. But it really hurts. And 400mg of Ibuprofen isn't doing anything

[myrthing]

I struggle leaving my home. It is not agoraphobia. It is the primary, and often only, disabling factor of my life.

I can't be talked into, persuaded, cajoled, tempted, induced, guilted or otherwise influenced into leaving my flat. Or into doing anything I don't want to do, frankly, but nothing else is as big of an issue as going outside.

I guess I might respond to bribery, but only for a short time, and it's not like the city is going to pay me extra "get out the door" money as disability aid anyway.

It fucking sucks to be caught in this situation. I had attendance issues in school because of this, starting over twenty years ago. I have never had a job because of this. It is at least not the only reason I can't study, but it's a contributing factor there nonetheless.

I have improved a bit with stimulants, but the baseline is that I still will stay home. I am however pretty hopeful that they will continue helping me, since I've only been on a functioning dose since October and I might still be able to increase it.

Unsurprisingly, I'm not happy with the status quo. I am fully capable of doing a job. I am fully capable of doing a lot of jobs, frankly, provided the right accommodations. I'm partially capable of doing even more types of jobs if we decide that the span of time I would be capable of them is completely irrelevant (I can't work as a cleaner. See "I will not do things I don't want to do").

I am—metaphorically—dying with frustration aimed at myself. I am simultaneously taking up resources that would be better used for someone else, and not using the resources provided to me because they can't actually help me. There isn't any aid for "refuses to leave flat, has barricaded self in bedroom and refuses to speak". Manhandling being generally frowned upon.

....

.........

Eureka? I knew writing was a good idea: I think, now, that the issue is that I've gotten so good at acting normal that my actual struggles never go so far as to trigger me. I can talk my way out of situations that would make me melt down if they were pushed further, and I am listened to because I am disgustingly, awfully verbal*, I'm mostly fluent, I'm articulate, I'm middle class, I don't look different, I don't generally even act different, and I appear to understand myself so well.

This ties into what my mother and I discussed over dinner tonight, namely that we haven't used my depression as a tool the way we should have. I should have been getting my doctor to put me on sick leave every time the depression got the better of me, even when I haven't been working or had any kind of activity. Instead we've just treated depression as my default state, instead of the debilitating illness it is. Although I guess we're in good company: the healthcare system has never cared about it either.**

It does mean there's no documentation of my really deep depressive periods, so that sucks.

Anyway I lost interest in continuing this. I had a lightbulb moment but now it's two thirty in the morning and I have a headache and heartburn and I really should sleep.

*I was not particularly good at talking when I was diagnosed as autistic as a teenager, nor did I particularly want to talk. I have learnt to speak in the intervening... second half of my life. A fact some might regret because goddamn, I do not shut up.

**The depression is currently medicated, and medicated well, but it took a couple of years before anyone did anything for it, and another eight before I was put on a combination of medicines and dosages that actually works. Or it took precisely half my life, if we're counting stimulants.

[voxiiferous]

"Needing and actually doing something are entirely different." And he's certain that Vox must sleep... eventually. At some point. He has a bed and everything, and it even seems used. It’s made, but not in a way that feels crisp and untouched, more like it’s been pulled straight in the morning.

“...Lovely." He's seen Vox, he knows that he, they? Have brought, at least, part of it, on himself, and there is something nice in knowing that he won't become a nameless nobody, despite that. He's never even gotten into a fistfight before! Much less whatever violence laden version of events leads him to where he is now. "It would, perhaps, be a smart choice to stay away from him whilst I'm here, I'm not certain if I can die in Hell... or what happens then."

Vincent makes a slightly strangled noise, there's a lot to unpack in that. "You eat people-- no wait, I knew that. He eats people, he was human. Was he a cannibal in life?" How does he feel about that thought? He's not sure. Is there a lot of Heavenly weapons down here that makes that a concern?" And okay, so people only sort of die permanently, which feels unfortunate when you're already dead.

"You're right of course. It would be a terribly poor choice to leave them out for any would be spy. Why, just imagine if any of the contracted souls decided to find their contracts in order to alleviate themselves of it, the smart choice is to make sure they're no where easily reachable." The logical choice, he thinks, would simply be to ask Vox, but that seems... like feels like the sort of thing Vox won't tell him.

The somewhat strangled noise returns. Well that was certainly proof of the changing times. The idea of sex isn't foreign, even of selling it, men like pretty women on covers, no, what's throwing him is specifically the casual homosexuality. He's spent so long always aware of his actions: never let your eyes linger too long, stay far enough away to never let hands brush in ways that will never be quite that innocent, smile at the girls and let everyone else assume whatever they want. "I'm... happy for him."

Vincent smiles-- well, if he's going to get one chance for it in Hell, then he'll take it. "I would hope that he still does. New and exciting world or not, some things just don't get better than 'In The Mood'." He notices the tail, and laughs gently. "You know, you're terrifying, but... thank you," Flicker of normality and wish fulfillment all in one. It might say something... troubling that it's a demon with whom he's doing it with-- a demon who has at least, passively, threatened him, but that feels... less pressing somehow. He seemed fond enough of Vox, or at least Vox's pet not to kill him

"Different... because you're not a normal sinner? You mentioned how you were created, and I doubt you mean in the traditional way one acquires children." It's a lot of information to take in all at once, but it makes sense that not everyone wound up the same. If all the sinners were as powerful then there would probably be more Overlords, or at least few with as much powerful. Maybe it had something to do with the sins that ended with you in Hell? Or maybe it was just... luck of the lottery? Presumably, that also meant that most sinners couldn't just create people like Astor. "Strange place to live I'm sure, not really anything outright, certainly not part of the normal hierarchy. I suppose so long as I'm here, that makes two of us."

He laughs, pulling his legs up a little higher on the bed. Credit to his future self, it is comfortable. He doesn't even know when it is he dies, but he assumes not... old. Older than he is now, but not enough to avoid an early grave. "I respect your scientific integrity, I'm sure there's bound to be nothing good that comes from a human dying in Hell." He may not have read nearly as much science fiction as some, but even he knows that time travel always seems to pose a headache to the writers. "Never realized how... delicate humans were until I wound up in a place where everything seems bigger and stronger."