#and people still have the guts to hate him

[nerdygirlramblings]

Ren gets something of Soap's (finally)

previous

This is by far the strangest field training you've ever experienced. And it's definitely not something you ever would have predicted. The pub is busy, even for the early weeknight hour. You stand against the wall trying to be as unassuming as possible while you wait for Price's voice in your ear to tell you your objective.

Earlier in the day, he'd said field training would be off base and to wear civvies appropriate for going out with friends. His eyes had giving you a quick once over, lingering on the patches at your neck, amending, "Nothing that would put your omega in danger, but nothing that screams military either."

You'd shown up at their barracks at 2000 in a pair of dark wash skinny jeans and loosely-fitted floral top, pretty pink heels on your feet. Walking into the rec room, your teammates gave you the kind of appraising looks you usually shunned. Your omega preened at their attention. There was more in their glances than you received during other trainings, and your omega reminded you that when Price invited you into the team, he said the pack would be open to courting you.

Before your racing heart could cause any problems, Price cut the tension. "Sometimes our intelligence recovery is finding things, like ya did in the hanger. But sometimes it's more personal subterfuge. Gettin' close to someone and gettin' them ta talk, takin' somethin' off 'em, distractin' their attention while someone else does the diggin'. I know ya've never done interrogation trainin', and we'll get ya some 'a tha' eventually, but tonight we're gunna practice some real world interrogation. How ya can get all people an' all designations ta open up."

Then Ghost dropped a leather jacket on your shoulders, muttering, "'S gunna be cold in th' pub." The brown leather shifted like butter; it was worn, not stiff, but smelled a little musty, like it'd been sitting around outside. Still, there was something familiar about its weight on your shoulders, and you felt safer about venturing out for this training.

Now here you are trying to guess who Price will make your target and for what. There's a pop of static in ear followed by his warm honey tone. "Right, Ren, the group by the pool table. There's one with a wedding ring. Get his mate's name." One glance across the bar shows your team in the corner booth at the back where they have a view of the entire room.

You wander over to the game and for fifteen painful minutes you try to get the man to share the information Price asked for. You try playing pool, talking about the footie on the telly. You try to look enticing then non-threatening. You play up the innocent omega bit. His friends are happy to entertain you, chat, teach you to play, get you a drink. After twenty minutes, Price calls it. "Head to the booth, Ren." Shame creeps down your spine. You heard the barely constrained laughter and hate that you failed.

You expect teasing when you get to the table and avoid eye contact with the others as you slide into an open chair. "Hey," Gaz calls softly, raising his voice just above the din of the pub. Your eyes flick to him momentarily before skittering off again, but from the glance, he doesn't look upset or amused. "That was a good first try, Ren."

"Sergeant's right," Price adds. "Didn't give ya an easy mark to start because I wanted to see yer gut reaction. Ya have good instincts. Ya didn't barrel in, weren't blunt. Ya tried several different angles. Now we're gunna teach you a few tricks, an' we'll try again wi' someone else."

You sit and listen as they give you some tactical pointers: how to read a mark's body language, how to use your body language, the impact of light touches touch, how verbal repetition can get someone to open up. The whole thing reminds you of the old show Leverage and how the con artist taught the others to be better con artists. Which leads you to the realization that this is all improv: put on your part, run your scene, work towards an established outcome.

You try to remember as much as possible, not wanting to disappoint Price or the team. Finally, he slides you a pack of cigarettes. When you wrinkle your nose and grimace, he says, "They're fer you but not." He jerks his head to the bar's far end, and you track the long walnut top down to a small gaggle of women by the bar. Based on how they're dressed and how they're behaving, they're here for a good time and have been at it for a while. After giving them a once-over, you turn back, clearly confused. Price looks you square in the eye and says, "Get one of them to go out for a smoke break with you."

You nod, mission focused, and snag the cigarettes off the table. Standing, you wind your way through the increasingly noisy pub. A tall man bumps into you, nearly spilling his beer on you, his retort about "watch it!" dying as he really looks at you. Sidestepping him, you squeeze past a few tables, accidentally brushing against the people standing there. The stares you receive remind you why you don't like coming out like this. By the time you get to the bar, near the women but not intruding, you feel like you could use a cigarette.

You lean on the bar, not quite obviously waiting on a drink. The group beside you opens slightly, the woman at your shoulder taking a half-step back as she laughs at her companion. You lean forward a bit, now edging into their bubble briefly, and point at the blue drink on the bar top. Just loud enough so the woman who was sipping from it can hear, you say, "That looks fun! What's it called?"

She shifts at your voice before turning her attention fully on you. You'd left the jacket on your chair, easier to seem unimposing. Her gaze is a little predatory but not as hungry as some of the men you've seen. There's no scent blockers or mating marks on her neck, so she's either an alpha or a beta. She must quickly deem you're not a threat because she smiles wide, leans close, and says, "'S a tipsy mermaid."

You tell her thanks and flag the bartender down. "One of those, please," you say, pointing at the concoction. A quick nod and he's sliding your card before heading to another well for the alcohol he needs. When you have the drink on hand, you turn to the woman and say, "Cheers!"

She watches you drink and smiles again, a little less appraisingly. "'S good, yeah?"

You return her smile. "Yeah. Thanks for that." You make to turn back to the bar and drink alone, but she's stepped a full length back and motions you to join her and her friends. You shift closer with grin, introducing yourself and thanking her again for the hospitality. They women introduce themselves in turn. You quickly learn Molly, a beta, is getting married soon, so her sisters, Annabel and your new friend Casey, brought her and her new pack's omega, Sydney, out for drinks.

Their conversation washes over you, but you make sure to leave gentle touches on Casey when you can, a hand on her shoulder when you lean in with a question, arm brushing against hers when you stand with your drink. Little things she can write off as innocuous or flirty. Either interpretation would suit your objective. When you slide your empty glass onto the bar, Casey is eager to buy you another. You decline, citing the need for a cigarette break. She loops her arm around yours and drags Annabel along, claiming the break is to give Molly and Sydney some "pack bonding time." You snicker with Annabel as Casey drags you out front. As the pub door closes behind you, Price's voice growls, "Nicely done, Ren. Make your exit and meet us at the truck. I've got yer jacket."

You want to protest it isn't your jacket, but right now the desire to be wrapped in its soft comfort has you devising all sorts of ways to leave. Not for the first time, you wish conversations had the same mission exfils, though you startle to realize that's exactly what this is. "Thank you for the lovely night, Casey, Annabel," you say, turning to them while you snub out your mostly unused cigarette. "I've got an early shift and need to get home." Before you can take more than two steps away, Casey grabs your wrist and tugs you in, dropping a kiss on your cheek. You feel pressure on your forearm and look down to see Annabel writing two numbers with hearts. One number has an A and a beta symbol, the other has a C and an alpha symbol.

"If you ever want company pub hopping," Casey says, "call us, yeah?"

They walk inside; you're too stunned to move for a solid minute. You don't have to meet the team at the truck because when they pour out from the door, you're still standing there. None of them could see you outside, but Price could hear everything. You feel like you should be embarrassed or ashamed, but your omega reminds you this was a job, a mission, and since you aren't part of any pack, entertaining an alpha isn't shameful.

Ghost puts the leather jacket around your shoulders, and that first deep inhale of the jacket's scent is immediately soothing. It warms you quickly and snaps you out of your stupor. Ghost's hand hovers behind you, like a sheepdog helping herd you to their vehicle. You climb into the back between Soap and Gaz, who both give you proud smiles. The drive to base is quiet, the only debrief was Price, again, telling you you'd done a good job.

next

~~

taglist: @sirbonesly @z-wantstowrite @thriving-n-jiving @cecelia97 @theycallmevalen @boogeysmoth @cryingpages @riley13 @luxylucylou @lucienofthelakes @ilyztwo @chaosundcoffee @lostintransist @thegreyjoyed

[jilyandbambi]

Everything about how Coach Ben's Trial plays out just makes me feel so sad and devastated for all of them. I can't even hate them for what they did or are about to do. They're just kids, man.

Shauna is grieving and angry and postpartum and scared, and she's got nowhere to put any of that except onto Ben, the grown up--who didn't burn the cabin down but who did turn away from her when she needed him most. It's a powerful thing when you're that age and angry/sad/frustrated about everything (bc you're a kid) and to have a safe adult to be pissed at: an adult who cares but isn't perfect (no one is, and you're a kid so you're still learning to accept this), who let you down right at the exact moment you needed them to be the Grown Up with all the answers, and maybe their fuck up was only one of 254884113 things going wrong in your life at that point but you're 17--old enough to know that adults don't have all the answers and young enough that it still feels like they should, and when they don't, that's their fault too.

It's irrational, immature, and dangerous (Thy name is Shauna Shipman), which is what kids are, and what each of these kids are, to varying degrees; and why Shauna gets her way in the end.

It isn't their coach's fault that their plane crashed, that they starved for months, that they resorted to eating their team captain, that they let Javi drown so they could gut him and eat him, that Shauna's baby was stillborn, or that their cabin burned down. But they're kids and everything is awful and in between all the awful the adult in the room dropped the ball when they needed him, and now the trauma, and guilt, and shame, and pain, and rage has to go somewhere, and Coach Ben is a more tangible target than an invisible wilderness god. It doesn't matter that he clearly didn't set the fire and doesn't wish them any harm, the lie is too convenient.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, Mari doesn't have to own up to the fact that she didn't tell the truth when she got back to camp, that she let the others continue thinking their coach was out there still hunting them.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, there's no need for Travis to rock the boat and stand up for the only other person besides himself to be as disgusted and horrified at what the others did to his little brother.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, Van (the only other person besides Shauna and Melissa to vote Guilty every time) doesn't have to worry about the others taking a second look at what her sleepwalking girlfriend could have been doing the night of.

If Coach Ben didn't set the cabin on fire, Tai might have to poke deeper at Van's insistence on his guilt despite all evidence to the contrary, and she might not like the answer. Add to that, if Coach Ben is innocent, then Nat was right to keep what she knew from the rest of them and Tai was wrong to collude with Shauna to her call her out in front of everyone, and maybe that makes Nat a better choice of leader than Tai would've been after all.

If the wilderness says Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, then maybe it's finally starting to speak to Lottie again, maybe she hasn't completely lost her connection to it after all.

And it's so, so fucked up because beneath all of them rallying behind this cruel, vengeful, childish decision to blame Coach Ben anyway is an understandable desire to have a say in all the uncertainty and turmoil that's taken over their lives by this point. That adolescent need for control--not just over your environment but your emotions, especially the negative ones--can make kids living in the best circumstances lash out. Here, with everything the Yellowjackets have been through and have already done, it was always going to have the worst possible outcome. And watching it all play out as an adult is just--ughhhhh. Heartbreaking.

Because that adolescent turmoil that makes you an angry freakshow who lashes out at the right people at the wrong times, or (more often than not) the wrong people at the wrong times--sometimes knowingly? That's normal. This is the time to be that way. You're supposed to have the space to get it all out and grow past it.

But the Yellowjackets don't and won't, and it'll ruin them, especially the ones that make it out alive.

Yeah, Shauna, taking your rage and grief out on Coach Ben feels good to you now; taking any action, even if it's clearly the wrong one, feels powerful and right in the moment, but it won't last. The rest of you lemmings letting her have her way for your own reasons feel justified for now, but that won't last either. By the time the full weight of what you've done hits you, it'll be too late. When the regret comes you won't know how to face it and you never will, and so you'll be stuck. You'll be 17 and haunted at 20 and 30 and 45, still getting in your own way and not realizing it until it's too late. You'll get older but you'll never grow up, and you'll never understand why.

[asha-mage]

February couldn't let me go without one final sucker punch to the gut so naturally I'm coping by thinking about gay people in fantasy and/or historical settings, so have this thought-

One of the thing inherent erotic tensions in Arthur and Merlin's relationship is that Arthur, as a future sovereign, is wedded to the realm. This is a common motif in monarchies, and was most famously used by Elizabeth I to defend her legitimacy choice not to marry. This relates to his relationship with Merlin because Merlin is the land. I've joked that Merlin is the divine right of kings in human form but the clear subtext throughout the show is that Merlin is the living embodiment of Albion's magic. He is Emerys a figure of awe to the druids. He is last of the Dragonlords, and the chosen one of Kilgarah's prophecy and he is bursting with so much magic that he can barely control it. He is one with the land- wild and untamed impossible to control, and with is own sense of rules and balance justice- he is literally everything about magic that Uther hates and tries to repress.

And it makes a perverse sense that the show's corner stone is his and Arthur's relationship. Arthur is the future king- in a very real way he and Merlin are already married, bound together inextricably. Merlin has the power to reach out and destroy Arthur at any time, as easy as closing his hand and he doesn't, because he believes in him and cares for him and knows he can save them all. If that ever stops being true- if that relationship ever falls apart that's it. Merlin could walk away at any time and that's the end of Camelot, of Albion, of destiny. He doesn't even have to kill Arthur, just leave him to reap what Uther has sown, because without Merlin around to shield Arthur the consequences of Uther's hate would kill Arthur a hundred times over. The true struggle in the series isn't against Morgana, or Mordred, or anyone else. It's in weather or not Merlin's belief in Arthur can withstand whatever can be thrown against it.

And the tragedy is that it does, and still isn't enough to save either of them in the end. Merlin will never stop believing in Arthur, never stop loving him. Arthur is the ultimate king and Merlin is the avatar of the land he rules over and they are two sides of the same coin, to halves of legend still waiting to be told, a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled.

Arthur is the once and future king, and elder god of a land still yearning and crying out for his return.

[friendsdontlieokay]

Mike Wheeler jumped off a cliff to save his friend if you even care

[schemelin]

More of my Lone Wanderer!

[starry-bi-sky]

mmm throwaway conversation between Dan and Danny that popped into my head that I had to write out:

"You spent ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, then went back in time and fought me, and lost." Danny snarls, arms crossed and throat tight. His mouth pulls back to bare dagger-sharp teeth, and his eyes burn with the familiar thrum of ectoplasm heating up behind his eyes. "If I didn't believe you were half of Vlad before, I do now."

His other self -- and really, can he even call him that? He's half of Vlad too. Two halves severed from each other and welded together to make a new whole, -- snaps his head over to him. Wild-eyed and furious, he looks unlike the man Danny fought before, the one unruffled and untouched, unbothered by the world around him. It's familiar, but not like the way a reflection is.

"What's that supposed to mean." The Other hisses, matching Danny's scowl one-for-one with fangs much bigger and sharper than his.

But there's a reason lions fear hyenas. Danny matches the rumble in The Other's chest with one of his own, and shoves his face close to his. "I don't lose."

[taw-k]

Hc: Loki's Nordic runes are really good, he writes them like they're stamped on, but his English is the most incomprehensible ancient calligraphy you've ever seen and his math is even worse.

He writes like this

And his math looks like this

He insists it's completely normal and entirely readable.

[noelles-legacy]

Ignorant?

Let’s just say this was Noelle’s breaking point into why she can’t stand Sebastian… the audacity of this bitch. I know a lot of people really like him (and I for one absolutely love him as a character💚🤍) but Sebastian gets on my nerves SO much playing the game, and to that I reflect that onto Noelle.

but also when he almost forced Ominis to cast Crucio in the scriptorium, like bro stfu cause like hell are you making my baby do that, that’s messed up😭👿

What I wish my choices were

>that was cruel

>you’re not thinking straight

>I WILL TURN YOU TO ASH YOU FOOL

[dootznbootz]

I honestly get a little annoyed that people will act like Penelope wouldn't be in the Fields of Punishment alongside Odysseus :P

Because she'd either go with him or literally be there because of her own things. I mean...She's not that nice either. They're literally "likeminded", all the war crimes he would tell her, she'd be thinking "Oh!!! Good thinking!!!" The only thing is, she just didn't GET to do those war crimes because she wasn't in the war. She would scold him for the stupid things he did acting like she's never done the same or wouldn't do the same.

Also as if she wouldn't also tell Polyphemus her name? Maybe not exactly, but she'd do something JUST as prideful/dumb eventually. BECAUSE THEY'RE SIMILAR. SAME MIND!!!

[sysig]

Giving nicknames, testing boundaries (Patreon)

[jusiri]

Love people using the live action atla as an excuse to draw White Katara and Sokka

I mean, obviously its totally fine, because after all, thats what the actors look like!

That means theres nothing at all wrong with this now :)

And like, Katara's actor is paler than OG Katara, so its alright to make her skin just white, as well as take away all indigenous features, and give her a stereotypical White Girl Face

No problems at all, thats all totally cool!!

[rotteneldritchhorror]

Ya know, I'm starting to think a certain chunk of the OBX fandom just hates women lol

[eikichi-supremacy]

seriously what kind of industrial grade hair spray or product or grease is kuwabara using to keep his pompadour that consistent. his hair is literally never down. Even in official art. One where they're in the hot spring and his hair is perfect. They have a beach episode and it remains untouched. HE SLEEPS WITH IT STYLED LIKE THAT. we get one manga panel with it slightly undone and that's the only proof we have that kuwabara's pompadour isn't simply a cleverly disguised helmet. show me his curly hair while I'm asking nicely 😤😤

[crystalkitty1220]

No because with the starly timeline you have Crow and Felix being the main ship, then you have the ones i just mentioned, then evil justin x james

you have Cody and Ethan who are exes and then Louis and Justin, who despite being in Eds gang, Louis does have a wolfe pack arc in season 3

so if anyone were to ever ask edward the question of “Is there anyone in your gang who isn’t or hasn’t dated a current or former member of Wolfe’s group?” HE WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO SAY YES UNLESS REFERRING TO HIMSELF

"Unless referring to himself" i mean,, his options are still open,,,, (/j)

[alastors-radioshow]

(Muse's thoughts towards Alastor. You can ignore this if this is uncomfortable.) "You wanna know why I'm not polite towards you? You're fucking Hannibal Lector, and that's NOT a compliment! You expect me to be grateful and kind towards you just because you have no intentions of killing me. But what about the men around me who are minding their business? When you've felt the emotional anguish, fear and despair of spirits whose lives were taken away from some CREATURE who gets off on playing God, it's pretty fucking easy to feel zero empathy towards the murderer. And yeah, I get that murder isn't black and white, and that the context is key, but what the fuck is YOUR context?! What did they fucking DO?! You are one of the reasons why I despise humanity! Those thoughts of the innocent asking 'why?! Why is this happening to me?! What did I do to deserve this?! Was I bad?!' is forever etched into my mind! You've outright accepted the fact that you're a monster and you're surprised that I'm treating you like one?! You wanting me to be nice to you makes as much sense as an absolute, misandrist, kill-all-men woman wanting me to be friends with her!"

"You spelled "Hannibal Lecter" wrong. If you intend on insulting me, at least do the bare minimum and do your research."

[arolesbianism]

Ok I'm back on the nugget obsession grind. Juliet Loki and Parker in ruina fighting alongside each other like it's a love language while Saxxly and Roland just sorta awkwardly fight like normal people around them