#but it's somehow related to the military so better not think too much into it

[episims]

🚏 Foxfire Connections

I don't have any map drawing skills whatsoever, so here's a little infographic to show just how isolated Foxfire is!

The crater where Foxfire is located is a restricted area and the town itself isn't marked on maps, but the military base and the observatory are. Officially, the only bus connection is meant for those. In practice, it's a lifeline for Foxfire locals.

Gritford is only a modest desert town too, living from the quarry industry. But it's the main settlement around these parts and the administrative center for the local government, so it provides most services and workplaces that Foxfire lacks.

Additional transport methods include school buses, taxis (you'll need to pay for the whole back-and-forth trip), and helicopters (if you have enough money, there are a few in Gritford). Private cars are banned in Foxfire Forest but the military has vehicles and even a couple airplanes.

[mystsee]

MESMERIZED ✦ KEEGAN P. RUSS

✦ about: keegan is mesmerized with you since he first met you ♡

✦ content: NSFW +18, virgin!reader, afab reader, blood, guns & death mentions, panic attacks, misogyny

✦ a.n: the boots i kinda imagined are the moonboots!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

in the sun-kissed landscapes of italy, you, with your captivating charm and surprising intelligence, was dealing with a meeting with very higher ups in the politic world, things were going so far so good.

that was until your boss, a figure whom you trusted very much, revealed to you the news. a deployment to russia as a military translator.

nervous feelings ran down your spine, not from the revelation of a new challenge, but from the anticipation of russia’s frigid embrace. most of the time, you were assigned to help translate in missions involving trafficking, drugs, dark stuff like that. and having to translate for the “bad guys” involved them being not so nice to you. mostly because they don’t like a woman all up on their dark buisness.

nevertheless, you knew you were going to be protected, and the military people have never treated you wrong.

you prepared your clothes, having to use a bigger backpack due to all the puffy jackets, scarfs, you know, all cold related things. which you do not protest! the colder the weather, the better you can dress.

right now you had a puffy black jacket, warm leggings with a thick skirt attached! it was 100x more comfortable because now your ass didn’t have to feel all the cold seats anymore. and of course your puffy boots, thick beige fur covering the boots. one thing about you is your feet were always cold, making you use like 3 layers of socks!

you arrived late night, making the cold even worse but you managed to cover the lower half of your face with your scarf, seriously the cold was so bad in here. as you disembarked from the helicopter, the biting russian cold embraced you, making you shiver involuntarily.

you were greeted warmly by your captain “nice to see you again over here” he smiled warmly “i’m glad too, really missed the artic” he laughed at that, how could he be out here with only a small jacekt?!

he noticed your shivering frame, you thought you were hiding it well, making him start leading you through the snow-covered landscape over to base.

upon entering, all eyes turned towards you – a mix of amazement and curiosity danced in the gaze of your new colleagues, you knew your boots were quite attention catching, probably why everyone kept staring at you.

to say you were pretty was little, it was obvious everyone in the room found you beautiful, but you didn’t pay it any mind, again thinking maybe your boots were standing out a bit too much, not the way your thighs looked so good with the skirt on top, but! they would need to get used to see your babies, they were your go-to in cold weather.

however, one pair of eyes stood out, belonging to keegan. he almost looked mesmerized with you. he watched you stride with an unyielding confidence, almost model like, the skirt making your hips move so so pretty, that it was making it hard for him to stop staring at you.

somehow your eyes found his, thanking the heavens you had your scarf covering your cheeks because you were blushing so hard rn, his gaze lingered, an admiring intensity in his eyes that you almost tripped.

only his eyes, a window to the unspoken thoughts within, were visible, making you curious. as his fellow soldier spoke, keegan’s attention remained freezed on you, his focus unyielding, and the words of his comrade fading into the background of his silent admiration.

the spell was broken as soon as the captain opened the door to his office, inviting you in to debrief the mission with you. you were going with keegan’s team to help them gather intel, they were trying to find a very big drug dealer, and you translating, would help them find him faster.

tomorrow morning would be your first mission with them, yet you still didn’t know who keegan was, making it intriguing whom you’d be working with.

captain showed you your room, it was a basic military room, a twin sized bed in the middle, small vanity to your left, a desk in the other size to the room, and a small window, last but not least, your own bathroom.

you pleaded your boss to give you your own bathroom, there was enough experiences a girl can have in a shared bathroom used by men.

you started investigating about who you were translating for tomorrow, loosing the track of time. by the time you finished it was 3 am, making you worry a little, you were leaving tomorrow at 6 am.

you were almost going to bed when your stomach rumbled, making you internally groan, you knew that if you didn’t sleep, insomnia would make its way to you.

rolling your eyes you went to the kitchen, you thought everyone was asleep rn, so you paid no mind yo your outfit, a small cropped sweatshirt, leggings and fluffy slippers.

you were about to eat your slice of bread with jam when a sudden voice made you drop it to the washer “can’t sleep?” “jesus fuck!” you swore you felt your heart stop for a second, you never saw anyone in here!

you turned around to see the same guy from before, keegan, who just stared at you, seated in a chair with a book in his hands, it almost looked like he was trying to contain his laugh.

“what’s wrong with you!” you said with a smile laughing, he probably saw your bread jump to the washer “me? nothing, was just asking” he said it so proud of himself “how do you even read with all the lights off?” by now you had turned to him, still by the counter “i wasn’t reading, i was drinking tea” “oh” you never saw the cup of tea beside the book silly you.

“just know you ruined my dinner” you said pouting “and you asked my what’s wrong with me” he said scoffing “oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t eat late at night” “no i do princess, just not a bread with jam at 3 in the morning” his nickname made you stop your breath for a second, deciding to pay no mind to it “but you do you princess” he was by your side now, putting his cup of tea in the washer, until you saw him freeze next to you, there was small light coming from outside, oh yea, you had no bra on.

he could see see your breasts, your nipples to be precise, under your sweatshirt, practically begging to be touched, your sweatshirt was so small it had ridden up just a tiny bit when you were making your dinner, making keegan see a small part of your under breast.

“princess” keegan suddenly moved closer to you, making you see his eyes better, revealing a captivating shade of blue, a mesmerizing hue that held a subtle warmth within its cool depths, caught your attention.

his gaze, unwavering in its intensity, sent a gentle warmth through you, leaving a blush on your cheeks again, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection forged in that shared moment.

“you still don’t know my name” which was true making you ask for it, when he said it, he saw the realization in your eyes “oh! i’m working with you in the next mission” you said a bit breathlessly “glad to have you with us” you could see the deep appreciation for you in his eyes.

keegan had heard about you, he knew of your well-regarded reputation as a translator, held a silent acknowledgment of the confidentiality that shrouded your professional endeavors.

in the subtle lines of his expression, you could see respect for the enigma that surrounded you, a recognition that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. “thank you” you said, he just nodded to you, he was so close to you now you could feel his chest, and his chest could feel your nipples. you just held your breath keeping eye contact with him “well, princess, you must get your sleep, i won’t keep you up” you were in a trance when he moved, snapping you out of it “goodnight keegan” you said in a small voice. keegan smiled behind his mask.

ever since then, a connection quietly unfolded between you and keegan. it initially started as him being a distant observer, he always kept his eyes on you everywhere you went, even more when you were speaking russian towards the males, you held such confidence with you he was deeply allured with you.

his presence evolved into a silent shield, a comforting assurance amidst the unfamiliarity of a foreign land. he may couldn’t understand russian, but he sure as hell could see the body language and the tones they were speaking to you.

everytime he could sense any sort of verbal assault at you, his steely gaze fixed upon the adversaries with an intensity that spoke volumes, as well as his hidden raised gun;), sensing the weight of his silent threat, they found themselves silenced. even though you had no idea he was threatening them behind you.

you always knew keegan had your back, and silently thanked him for it. as the time passed, you felt keegan more protective of you, and you more attentive of him, you two were almost all the time together.

there were moments, a shared smile in the midst of icy winds, or a wordless understanding in the chaos of a mission, that spoke louder than words. in these instances, his protective instinct manifested – a steady hand guiding you through the challenges, a silent assurance that you were not alone. metaphorically as well as physically.

his interactions evolved into a touch that carried a warmth beyond mere protection. his gestures, once purely professional, became tinged with an affectionate familiarity.

a guiding hand on the small of your back during a mission briefing or a reassuring touch on your shoulder in moments of uncertainty, each contact seemed to convey a connection that lingered beyond the realm of your relationship.

these touches carried a feeling of something more, a silent language of shared emotions between you and him. in the hushed moments when his hand lingered a second longer than necessary or the gentle squeeze that accompanied a reassuring smile.

in the dim glow of the base's common area, keegan’s touches continued to weave a tapestry of unspoken connection. a shared moment over a map had his fingers brushing against yours, the contact lingering for a heartbeat longer than required, it was practically normal for you to be blushing around him now.

during a particularly challenging mission, his arm found its way around your shoulders, a protective embrace in the face of caos. in that moment you just wanted to be beside him all the time, you felt safe around him.

there was also a time in which keegan was behind you, listening to what you would be doing, until he felt rather not okay with what you were supposed to do. he suddenly put his hand discreetly on your waist, and the other arm in front of your chest, his hand subtly telling “no”

“she’s with us, meaning we protect her, what you’re saying is risky for her, she won’t do it” you felt warmth on your chest. you have never experienced this, the other teams you had been were never this attentive with you. it was a weird emotion for you, you were used to always seek for yourself.

in the quiet of the nights, a shared gaze held more than words could express. keegan’s hand, a reassuring presence, sought yours across the table, fingers intertwining with yours, squeezing your fingers every now and then. he did that more times than you could count.

the line between friendship and something deeper became increasingly blurred, leaving both of you suspended in the uncharted territory of unspoken emotions.

the endearing term "princess" slipped from his lips almost all the time, a word you loved hearing from him even though you never tell him. it became a private language, whether in the midst of a mission or during quiet evenings, the endearment echoed, making you warm inside all the time.

keegan’s feelings had transcended the boundaries of friendship, evolving into a profound connection that bordered into almost being in love with you.

his gaze, once intense, now carried a softness that showed a deep admiration, a mesmerizing allure that held him captivated in your presence.

his eyes just seemed to follow you everywhere, absorbing every detail of you, every facet of your being, as if etching your essence into his soul.

the desire to be with you became a palpable force, an unspoken longing that lingered in the spaces between conversations. the way his fingers sought yours, the way he leaned in, just a fraction closer than necessary – each action seemed to fluster you more and more.

you too couldn’t deny it, you felt drawn to him, but even with the warmth of his company and shared moments, there was a bit of confusion.

your feelings were kind of mixed up, wanting to connect with him but also feeling unsure about it. it’s like a struggle between what your heart wants and what your head is thinking.

you just don’t know how to respond to him :(

figuring out your own feelings became a bit like wandering through a maze, with no clear destination.

being close to keegan made you feel good, but accepting his love brought its own set of uncertainties. you tried taking things one step at a time, trying to make sense of your own heart and the budding feelings between you two.

until you just couldn’t anymore

you were in a very heated meeting with keegan, as always, behind you, talking to a very dangerous person, in a very dangerous place, at any moment now something could happen, making you feel on edge all the time there. you felt keegan’s hand hold your shoulder softly, reminding you he is here with you.

in the middle of the conversation, you saw in less than a second the man’s eyes change, from angry, to weirdly happy, like he was going to be free from all this interrogation. you were confused, until you heard it.

bullets and bullets and more bullets echoed in the building, as well as some passing through the windows in the small office you were. in a second keegan had moved you, shielding you from any possible damage

you heard him speak to the captain, the captain said they were under attack, making difficult to get out of there. you were alone inside with keegan and the man, he was tied to the table though, so you weren’t worried he would escape.

keegan held you behind his back, opening the door and checking if it was safe to go out. he made a clear sign and went to the right side. you were shaking of fear, you could hear explosions all over the place, the shaking of the floor, bullets everywhere, it was crazy.

suddenly a man spawned out of nowhere pulling keegan and tried stabbing him.

the military gave you a gun before you left, you had basic military training, knew how to use a gun, yet never needed to. but seeing keegan almost being stabbed made you react on instinct, you pulled your gun in less than a second and shoot the bastard. keegan’s was free from the man’s arm and shot another bullet between his head.

you just stood there, the adrenaline was making it hard to process what just happened, but you could feel your body trembling with fear, you may have possibly just killed a man. you’ve never done that in your life.

keegan saw the fear in your eyes “princess, hey, i need you to focus on me” keegan’s grabbed your face, you stared at him, worry clear in your eyes “you saved me and you’re a fucking badass for that” keegan’s appreciation words dragged you out of the dark thoughts you were falling to.

you both heard footsteps approaching you, making keegan grab your hand, tight, and walked to the other direction, you moved faster than him, adrenaline was making you rushed now, until you were about to move to the other corner of the hallway and saw armed men looking for, you supposed, keegan and you.

you pushed keegan back, startling him for a second, until he could hear the voices. you had a door next to you, keegan opened it and dragged you both inside. it was small, very small, yet enough for hiding. keegan turned you so his back was to the door, always protecting you first.

you on the other hand, was shaking shitless again, you could understand what they were saying, they were here for you, obviously not happy at all that you knew about what they were doing.

keegan once again tried dragging you out of your starting panic attack, he said your name twice trying to get your attention. you looked at him, you were very much fucking scared.

“hey, you’re with me, i won’t let anything happen to you okay?” you felt one of keegan’s hand hold your head softly, the other went to your back. you then realized he was hugging you, you were so close to each other he didn’t even need to moved you closer. you moved your hands to hold his back too, resting your head on his shoulder.

in the middle of the chaotic circumstances, keegan emerged as your anchor, his presence became the grounding point that helped you survive this.

it was then when it hit you, the realization, the profound connection that resonated beyond words. attempting to utter his name, you found your voice stifled by anxiety, your very core trembling with fear.

keegan, ever perceptive, tightened his hold around you, a silent reassurance.

as the threat passed by your door, keeping your mouth shut became a necessity, not just for the mission at hand but also to guard the burgeoning emotions inside you.

after a few minutes, you could hear them muffled, meaning they were far. keegan opened the door, still holding you, and looked out, he saw that it was clear “let’s go princess”

the next few minutes was you and keegan trying to get out of here, it was almost like a maze, the explosions seemed to calm down as well as the bullets. but there was still people looking for you.

you were about to turn to your left when a hand grabbed you from your neck, choking you, you tried to scream, but the man was fast, he suddenly pushed you to the wall, punching you in the face, almost breaking your nose, but you moved just in time your face, hitting you in the cheek.

you suddenly remembered you had a gun, you pulled it out, raising it fast to the middle of his head and shot him quick.

it was ugly, scary, and it glued you to your spot, all his blood soaked you, yet his hold on you loosened, making the man fall to your shoulder, surely staining your coat.

you were so fucking scared you thanked the lord keegan grabbed the man and lunched him to the wall behind.

you were again almost in shock, but keegan was in front of you fast “come on baby, we need to leave this hell” keegan kept dragging you, your body fully trusting him, because you were going into shock now.

you saw light, and finally you were out, a few dead people scattered on the ground, not helping you at all.

it until you saw the familiar humvee you felt slight ease. everyone saw your state, blood soaking all your face, dripping all over your coat. quite a sight. keegan just shakes his head to his teammates, silently telling them that you needed space now.

the soldiers admired you, even cared for you after all this time, it was clear seeing you like this worried them, but they trusted keegan, and they know you trust keegan too.

keegan helped you up the humvee, sitting next to you, you felt him whispering beside you “you okay?” you just nodded taking a small ragged breath, wiping your nose. you felt disgusting, you could feel the man’s blood dripping down your nose, the need to shower was strong right now.

keegan just softly held your hand, squeezing it to help you ground yourself, but you just couldn’t, you were so bloody anxious right now you couldn’t stop moving your leg up and down.

keegan felt it, slightly worried about you, he knew you’ve never been in combat before, let alone kill someone. you felt his hand slowly let go of yours, and put it on top of your thigh, making you halt your movements.

he kept it there slightly above your knee, massaging a little, not daring to move his hand up higher.

the ride to base was just the captain talking to someone on the radio, other than that, it was silent.

as soon as you arrived to base, you hurried out of the humvee, and fast towards the barracks, feeling the weight of the mission on your shoulders. you desperately needed the shower.

keegan stayed by the humvee, not following you right away. he stood there, giving you room. he could understand the impact of what just happened, and knew letting you calm down first was a good idea.

the letting you calm down time meant maybe you would come out of your room later, but now, it was 11:45 pm, and keegan was more than worried about you now. he had no idea you were still in the shower, living the past event over and over in your head.

you just couldn’t erase the image from your brain, just seeing the man’s eyes go lifeless in front of you, it was such a crazy thing to look at, and you weren’t dealing with it very okay.

you felt dirty, even though you cleaned your body more than twice. you had lost the track of time, you were so inside your brain you forgot to eat something. your stomach begging for food now, making you feel nauseous.

you just put on a brown long sleeve sweatshirt with some random leggings. you knew it was last midnight now, making it easier for you, you didn’t want to see anyone right now.

keegan, on the verge of heading to your room, noticed you entering the kitchen. your eyes were red, and your nose was puffy – the signs of tears evident. the concern on his face deepened as he observed the aftermath of emotions that had washed over you. he paused, recognizing the fragility in your demeanor, reconsidering whether to approach and offer comfort in this vulnerable moment.

spotting keegan in the kitchen, you froze in place. your hair, still damp, added a chill to the atmosphere, and a subtle shiver ran through you. keegan stood there, his worry evident in his eyes. the unspoken concern made you feel a twinge of guilt for disappearing, realizing the impact it had on him.

feeling the wave of emotions crash over you once again, tears welled up, and sobs escaped despite your efforts. a whispered "i'm sorry" escaped your lips, muffled by your trembling hand pressed against your mouth. the vulnerability laid bare.

in an instant, keegan was by your side. dressed in a simple black sweatshirt and cargo pants, he became your anchor once again.

his chest against your trembling form, you held him tight, as if seeking solace in the warmth of his presence. his hands gently cradled your head and waist, offering a silent reassurance, “nothin’ to be sorry about princess” you could feel his deep voice rumble in his chest “it’s okay”

his hand now gently petting your hair as you clung to him. between sobs, you began to express the guilt weighing on your chest. "i feel so bad for leaving like that" you admitted, the words punctuated by shaky breaths.

the shock of your actions you did a while ago lingered, casting a shadow on your thoughts. the vulnerability in sharing your feelings with keegan felt both liberating and daunting. it was a bad habit of yours, disappear whenever you felt any emotion that wasn’t happiness. it was normal to you:( even if it’s been more than 12 hours since you last emerged from your room.

keegan’s voice, calm and reassuring, cut through the heaviness of the moment. "it's okay," he whispered, his hand still tenderly stroking your hair. "you're here now, and that's what matters."

a flicker of strength ignited within you, and you stood a little taller, you pressed a tender kiss on keegan’s cheek, your hand lingering on his face for a heartbeat. his eyes held an unspoken love, you could see it clearly now.

keegan’s question for the kiss hung in the air, a gentle curiosity evident in his gaze. you felt his mask close and his breaths deepen, you took a moment, meeting his intense eyes. "it’s a thank you," you said softly, "for always protecting me."

his response was a tightening of the embrace, bringing you even closer. his face, now near yours, held an intensity matched by the deep breaths he took. in a rough voice deep with emotion, he confessed, "you driving me fucking crazy." the admission hung in the air, your cheeks flushing furiously.

a playful challenge danced in your eyes as you maintained intense eye contact. "what if you show me how much I drive you crazy?" you suggested, your doe eyes locked onto his.

a groan escaped him as he dropped his head to your shoulder. laughter bubbled from you, but your breath hitched as keegan shifted, causing your sweatshirt to ride up slightly. the short length and absence of a bra made you almost flash him your right breast.

keegan could feel it, in fact, he could feel your nipples pressed on him since he hugged you, making his pants feel tighter.

you felt keegan’s hand move up, near your breast, starting to massage there, making you blush furiously “may i remind you were are still in public keegan” you didn’t want anyone walk in on keegan almost touching your breasts, in the middle of the kitchen.

startling you in a swift motion, he lifted you off the ground, his strong hold on your bum leaving you feeling both surprised and strangely like jelly inside, and before you could voice your concerns, he began walking towards your room.

you were silently screaming at him about the possibility of getting caught, but keegan just tightened his hold on you more like squeezing your booty, effectively silencing you.

the situation didn't seem to faze him as he navigated the corridors, your protests muted in the intensity of the moment. the world outside seemed to fade away as keegan carried you and opened your door, leaving behind a trail of laughter and a flutter of unspoken excitement.

you thought he was going to drop you now, but no! he just went to your bed, and dropped you, making you bounce and laugh at what he just did “such a romantic” keegan just held the back of your legs and dragged you near his cock.

that motion made your shirt roll up, now showing him your bare breasts. you widened your eyes a little, but keegan looked like he was more enamored by you now “what a fucking sight i have” he couldn't help but revel in the intimate view of you beneath him. your eyes, filled with affection, locked onto his, radiating a warmth that mirrored the depth of your connection.

the air thickened with tension, and keegan couldn't ignore the tightening in his pants, a physical response to the emotional intimacy and the allure of the moment. “look how you make me feel princess” you could feel it, near your cunt, his big cock, making a big tent in his pants.

you just couldn’t anymore, you rolled your hips up a little, the sensation almost made you cum on the spot, but keegan just made a noise of disapproval “nuh uh, let me have my time with my princess yeah?” you blushed even more when keegan took a hold of your hips, and slowly moved his hands up, dying to touch your breasts.

when his hands finally felt them, he was on cloud 9. they were so soft and moldeable in his hands he could feel precum leaking from his cock. keegan lowered himself close your breasts, rolled his mask up, and licked your nipple making you moan.

he started sucking on your nipple like a man starved, while the other hand groped your other breast, pinching your nipple and rolling it between his fingers. you were panting, his hands were god sent, as well as his mouth.

that’s when you felt the sudden urge to kiss him. and you couldn’t wait anymore. feeling the magnetic pull, you took charge, gently dragging his face upward to meet yours. in a bold move, your lips crashed against his, a collision of desire and longing.

a sound of contentment escaped keegan, emotions flowing between you like an electric current. the world outside the moment ceased to exist as the intensity of the kiss spoke volumes, an unspoken exchange of emotions and desires woven into the fabric of that stolen, passionate embrace.

keegan deepened the kiss even more, angling your head better, he was heaven sent. in the heat of the kiss, your hands, seemingly of their own accord, found their way to his mask. it became an unconscious exploration, a touch laden with curiosity. unexpectedly, keegan broke the kiss, startling you, and swiftly snatched away his mask.

in the soft glow of the small light, his face was revealed, and you found yourself enraptured by the sight of him.

"you’re so beautiful" the words slipped from your lips almost involuntarily. a deep resonance of satisfaction echoed in keegan’s chest, and without a moment's hesitation, he dragged you up. seated on his knees, you found yourself straddling him, his hands on your waist and bum, fondling with it making you whine, as your lips met again in a deep, intoxicating kiss, yet you felt needy.

involuntarily you moved your hips, grinding right on his cock, making him groan deeply “fuck baby, you’re going to make me cum” knowing he was as aroused as you made you feel even more needy, making you grind your hips even more.

keegan’s hand took a hold of your hips, making you stop your movements. you whined again, even surprising you, you’ve never met this side of you, so needy of someone.

keegan's touch on your face was soft, almost reverent. he spoke with a gentle intensity, "i want to worship you. let me." the request hung in the air, and you, captivated by the depth of his gaze, agreed with a simple nod.

with deliberate tenderness, keegan laid you back onto the bed, his hands moving to the fabric of your clothes. He began with your sweatshirt, each movement deliberate and unhurried, as if unraveling the layers of vulnerability and desire between you two. as he raised your sweatshirt up, his hands once again touched your breasts, making you moan lowly.

keegan just smirked, having removed your sweatshirt, he then proceeded to shed his own shirt. the unveiling of his toned body drew an involuntary blush to your cheeks. his eyes caught yours, and a playful smile graced his lips.

"like what you see?" he teased, the husky timbre of his voice adding a layer of seduction to the moment. the air hung heavy with anticipation as you met his gaze, your response a silent affirmation that echoed in the space between you two.

keegan, still holding your gaze with an intensity that spoke volumes, continued his deliberate exploration. his hands, deft and unhurried, moved to your leggings.

with tenderness, he peeled them away, revealing more of your vulnerability. the room seemed to pulse with shared desire as each layer of clothing fell away, creating an intimate tapestry of connection between you and Keegan.

you were only with your panties on now, and keegan with his grey boxers, not hiding anything, making you slightly anxious, he looked very big, and you’ve never done this before.

a sudden realization gripped you, and you couldn't help but say, "wait" keegan, on the verge of sliding your panties off, halted immediately, his expression shifting to one of concern.

nervously, you confessed, "i’ve never done this before." the vulnerability in your admission hung in the air, an unspoken plea for understanding and patience. the room, once charged with desire, now held a new layer of intimacy.

keegan, surprised by your revelation, felt a renewed sense of responsibility. he looked into your eyes, the desire tempered with understanding, and reassured you, "i’ll go slow. we’ll take it at your pace."

his words carried a gentle promise, a commitment to make you feel at ease in this intimate moment. keegan then slowly slide your panties off, your cunt now bare and displayed in front of him. keegan just stared at it for a second, absolutely beautiful he thought; all shiny with your slick, begging for some attention. and who was he to deny it.

one thing about keegan, he loved foreplay, and you, you liked it too, but he’s made you cum twice! fingers and tongue involved, you weren’t complaining, but you really wanted his cock now.

from where you were, you could see his boxer stained with precum, making you whine, you were past needy now “i need you keegan, please” keegan heard the whiny tone from you, making his cock even more hard.

“such a needy princess aren’t you” keegan swiftly removed his boxers down, his cock sprang free on his stomach. your mouth was watering just seeing it. it was big, veiny and thick.

you didn’t think it, you were on all 4s now, keegan was looking behind dropping his boxer when he felt your mouth on his cock, making him hiss loud as well as whined “fuck princess, what are you doing?” you could hear his voice strained, like he was containing himself.

you didn’t answer, it was your first time doing this, yet you felt confident when you swallowed almost his whole cock down your throat, making keegan’s hands grab your head, pushing you deeper, making his eyes roll back.

“who taught you this?” he was a panting mess now, you kept bobbing your head up and down, using your angelic hands to grab his balls, swollen with his cum, massaging them, making keegan go all over the edge.

he didn’t warn you, just grabbed your head dragging it all the way down, thrusting his big cock down your throat, moaning loud. you decided to look at him then, giving your best puppy eyes you could, making keegan mesmerized with you, you could see all his reactions from here, his stomach clenching, his mouth panting, and his eyes full of love.

“i’m gonna cum love” you felt keegan trying to move his cock out of your mouth, but you just grabbed his hips, pushed them to you, and moving your tongue around his veiny cock.

keegan cummed on the spot, thick white ropes of cum going all the way down your throat, you as the princess you are, swallowed it whole, keeping your hand on his balls, feeling them clench everytime he cummed.

you were sure keegan was about to pass out now, that was the hardest orgasm he’s ever felt.

his desire was evident in the intensity of his gaze, deciding to take charge. his hands gently grasped your head, lifting you slightly making you put your hands on his big muscular chest. a deep, intense kiss ensued, each meeting of your lips sending a shiver through your body.

keegan murmured a sweet praise, "you’re such a beautiful good girl aren’t you?" he was still in his post orgasmic state, making you laugh a little, but this man had a very strong stamina.

you could feel his cock hard again in between your stomach making you put your hand on top of his slit. he bucked his hips a little “come on now” he said with a strained voice “let me make you feel good” desire evident in his voice.

keegan laid you down on the bed, moving your thighs open, letting your cunt once open to him. keegan not waisting a second now, aligned his cock with your cunt, dragging it up and down your folds “stop teasing keegan” you said pouting.

it took you by surprise when you felt his tip in your entrance, making you stop your breath for a second, keegan was smirking now, how easy it was to shut your needy ass up.

“i’ll go slow yeah? you tell me if it too much princess” keegan started sliding his thick cock insided your virgin cunt, it felt weird, a slight burn everytime he slide deeper.

keegan on the other hand was in awe, he saw your cunt swallowing his cock inside, inch by inch, your puffy clit at view too. in a second keegan had his hand on your clit, slowly circling it, making you moan, allowing his cock to slide further.

once he bottomed, he stayed there, he was still on his knees, allowing him a beautiful view. you had your knees next to your breasts, his cock swallowed by your cunt, your face flushed.

he couldn’t wait anymore, keegan dropped his forearms next to your head, and started grinding his cock inside your cunt. you felt so full, and him grinding was almost hitting your womb, making you moan loudly. “keegan you’re so deep” you said frowning from pleasure, your nails were on his big muscular biceps, hanging on for dear life.

“does it feel good?” “very fucking good” you said moaning the last word, keegan had his head hidden on your neck, his pace now a bit faster, balls hitting your ass everytime he thrusted, the skin to skin slapping sound resonating all over your room, creating such an erotic scene.

keegan then raised his head and kissed you deeply, his hand holding your head softly, you could feel him even deeper now. he had you on a mating press, his chest squeezing your breasts making your nipples stand out even more “you feel so fucking good princess” “this cunt belongs to me yeah” “you’re all fucking mine”

keegan kept saying this small praises everytime he thrusted, but what made your orgasm come quick was when he said you were his. yes you were. you were his since you met him. he was there for you ever since then, always by his side, always his.

“y-yes i am” keegan’s intense gaze was on you now “i’m yours keegan, all yours” he hit a particular spot inside you that you saw stars, moaning loud “say that again princess” “i’m yours” keegan was about to cum just from hearing you say that.

“and you’re all mine” you kissed him hard when you said that. keegan never thought you were the possessive type, yet when he heard you say that, you could say he fell in love even deeper “you’re all fucking mine keegan” you started meeting his thrusts with your hips, your clit rubbing with his stomach making your orgasm come fast.

keegan could feel it, you were clenching stronger now, almost making him stop his movements “you cumming princess?” that goddamn nickname was going to be the death of you “i want to cum with you”

your needy voice made keegan tighten his hold on you, and thrust deeper, and slower. keegan grabbed your face and kissed you, his other hand rubbing your clit. making you cum hard.

keegan cummed in an instant too, feeling your cunt clenching around his cock too, your orgasm so hard you closed your eyes. he cummed inside you, sliding even further, letting all his cum coat your walls with him. only him.

he stayed there for a while, letting you come down from the high. you were breathing hard, his cock now softening inside you, yet you didn’t want him to come out yet.

you used your feet to hit him on the hips, making him slide a bit more “stay here for a while” keegan caught the message, you wanted to cuddle. with him still inside you.

you were a sucker for cuddles, and touch starved. so when keegan laid down, still inside you, and dragged you almost on top of him, you felt shivers down your spine.

as keegan’s arms enveloped you in a tender embrace, a warmth spread through you, reaching the neglected corners of your soul. the gentle cradle of his arms was a stark contrast to the void you hadn’t realized existed, a reminder of the absence of such intimate touch in your life.

his arms forming a protective cocoon around you, fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. the rise and fall of his chest against your back mirrored the rhythm of shared breaths, creating a serene melody.

it wasn't just the physical closeness; it was the profound sense of being seen and held, a silent promise that in his arms, you were cherished and safe.

a few minutes had passed when you felt keegan sitting up, you as well on his lap, making you pout “don’t make that face” he said condescending “i need to clean you up yeah?”

keegan carried you all the way down your bathroom, again, still inside you, and seated you on the counter. he took a really long look to your breasts. such beautiful breasts just sitting there, making him want to hold them again.

“enjoying the view” you said in a proud tone, keegan just moved his eyes to your face and laid a small kiss to your cheek. you started feeling how keegan slid his now soft cock out your cunt, once it was all out, he just stayed there, looking at both your cunt and his cock “look at the mess you made love”

his cock was full of his cum, and yours, you felt all his cum slide out of your cunt, now on the counter, the sight making keegan’s cock start hardening again, and you saw that as well.

you just stared at him, beautiful doe eyes, and grabbed his cock. “can’t get tired of this cock huh?” you just smiled, stood up, and dragged him to the shower. that was the best shower sex you’ve ever had.

after the shower, keegan was behind you like a lost puppy, just wanting to be near you, touching your waist, squishing it, as well as your bum, all while you were doing your small skin care.

and on bed? keegan was even more cuddly than you! he said, scratch that, obliged you to be the little spoon. now you had his beautiful face right next to you, his hand drawing small circles in your waist, going near your breasts to tease you, your legs tangled beneath the sheets. you could get used to this.

“so, for how long have i driven you crazy?” keegan heard the cheekiness in your voice, you probably knew keegan was head over heels for you, acting all dumb to torture him, making keegan groan behind you “i’m going to keep it with for a while”

you laughed, putting your hands on top of the one that was on your waist, dragging it near your lips, planting a soft kiss there. when you kissed his hand, an unexpected tenderness surged within him, like a flood of warmth.

in response, he hid his face against your neck, as if to shield himself from the cascade of emotions, laying a few kisses here and there. you really could get used to this.

♡

AHHHHHH the end ;’[ i love fluff, was deciding if splitting this into chapters but i got carried away and made it a one shot jiji

hope u liked it!

[agentmarcuspike]

frankie morales x dominatrix (+ ex!reader)

synopsis: after breaking up with you on a self sabotaging whim, frankie finds his way back into familiar arms to cope content warnings: mentions of drugs and addiction, sub!frankie, destructive and avoidant behavior, sex work, joi (jerk-off instructions), masturbation (m), degredation kink, vague descriptions of dissociation, dom's name is jessica (after my hero @hier--soir), cum, some pain and tears related to jerking off (stop if it hurts, guys!), military related trauma, very brief attempt at aftercare word count: ~ 2.7k a/n: my first frankie fic! thank you, han @swiftispunk, for proof reading af, for encouraging me to conquer my p0rn shame, and of course for writing such an inspiring sub!frankie. we love him (and u)

Frankie knew it wasn’t fair to you. He knew he’d cause you pain by ending things after twelve amazing, promising months. But compared to the inevitable pain he was doomed to bring everyone he loved and cared for, it was nothing. 

He’d been clean for a mere week when you met, and the rush you gave him had been enough to replace the rush of a high. For a while. But when the withdrawals and unrest returned, and the butterflies could no longer keep the cravings at bay, you’d held him through the tremors, wiped the cold sweat off his forehead, and at no point had you judged him for his past or his way of coping. You’d loved him. 

And you still did. 

Did he love you too? Most likely. Probably. Yes. Which was why he had done what he had. Because you deserved someone better for you. Someone without his history, his trauma, his wounds. No matter how much he loved you for tending to them, you shouldn’t have had to. And that’s why he’d left, on this gloomy Sunday evening, with no other explanation than, “I’m sorry.”

It’s also why Frankie finds himself roaming the chilly city, street lights blurry, all noises softened by a thick layer of apathy. He has no idea how long he’s been walking, no idea whether he’s tired or not. He feels like a shadow of himself, with no wants or needs, no ambition or goals. Just a body moving, constantly moving, to avoid having to think or feel. But as a bicycle quickly swooshes past him on the sidewalk, almost knocking him over, he stops in his tracks and looks around. 

He finds he’s made his way to the other side of town. The air is thicker here somehow, heavier with desperation than in the area he'd tricked himself into thinking he'd belonged in for the past couple years, amongst white picket fences and successful neighbors.

Here, the atmosphere is familiar. People seeking shelter between dumpsters, some asleep, some chasing relief in a fashion Frankie is all too acquainted with. A single buzz goes off in his head when the urge comes back to him. It would be so easy. He knows where to get it, knows how it works. Where to go, who to see, what to say. It would give him the energy to do whatever he could to keep this heartache away. 

So he sets his legs back in motion. At the end of the street, they make a conscious right, a left, and then his mind is wandering again, off in a different direction than his feet. And then his feet stop. He’s standing outside of a regal looking building. Off-white stone façade, adorned with French balconies and decorations, art deco mascarons staring down at him with empty eyes.

Two white columns frame the heavy front door he’s walked through so many, many times. Not since you, though. Frankie has not had the need to visit this place since you first locked eyes with him. 

Without a second thought, before he can change his mind, he rings the doorbell and he’s buzzed inside. With every heavy step up the marble stairs, echoing off the shiny walls, the lights in Frankie’s brain turn off one by one. As he reaches the fourth floor, he’s merely a shell of himself, a puppet on a pair of floppy strings, longing for someone to take control.

He stands still on the landing for a minute, breathing slowly, deliberately, waiting for his arm to rise and knock on its own. It doesn’t, so he orders his hand to place three quick raps on the door.

A few seconds later, a woman comes out. Her hair is tied up, haphazardly moved out of her face and neck with an elegant claw clip. The hand she’s not using to hold the door open is placed in front of her, fingers in a fist clutching the two sides of a silk robe together, careful not to expose more of herself than what’s already poking out from underneath the short covering.

“Frankie…?” she asks, brows raised in surprise. 

He gives her a nod and a weak, “Hi” in response, clearing his throat and repeating the greeting. “Jessica,” he mutters. 

The woman takes a step over the doorstep, pulling her robe tighter around herself.

“I didn’t expect you! We didn’t have an appointment today, did we?” Her voice is slightly panicked, worried she’s forgotten, her eyes darting quickly down to the non-existent watch on her wrist.

Frankie shakes his head. “No.” He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, opening and closing his fidgety hands. “I just…” His voice cracks, he swallows and tries again. 

“I just need two minutes.” 

Something in his core refuses to let him look at the woman in front of him. 

He knows her well, knows she’d never judge him. She’s seen him in much more vulnerable positions than this, and yet, something about being so emotionally affected in front of her has him staring at the floor.

She leans down, bending at the waist and tilting her head to find his eyes, making him look at her. When he does, his voice is weak, but assured. He knows what he needs. “Please.”

The plea is enough. Jessica gives him a subtle nod before stepping aside and letting Frankie in. 

He automatically kicks off his shoes and parks them by the door. Straightening back up, arms fixed by his sides, he awaits further instruction.  

“Clothes off, sweetie,” Jessica commands softly. “And wait right here for me. Be right back.” She disappears from the hallway and into the living room, leaving Frankie alone to undress. He makes quick work of it, not bothering with all the buttons, careless about whether they end up inside out or not. 

He sheds his clothes like he wants to shed his skin and grow a new one. A brand new layer, thicker than the one he has, one free of marks from your bruising touch.

On autopilot, he drops to his knees on the tiled hallway floor, hands clasped behind his back, easily and comfortably slipping back into the familiar cadence of compliance. 

The hard cold surface keeps him from crashing into the floor, from falling through it, by burrowing into his knees, stone against bone. He forces all of his attention to the sensation; the dull ache in his kneecaps, the strain in his thighs. The feeling of staying in position despite the discomfort fills him with a sense of pride and control only certain things can give him. One of them is playing the part of soldier, fighting on someone else’s behalf. The other is this; surrendering completely to someone else’s needs and wishes. 

Jessica is back a quick minute later. 

“Come in, Frankie.” 

Hands on the floor for support, he rises and follows her. 

The room isn’t new to him. He’s seen it before, but only in passing, on his way to her bedroom, to the bathroom and back again. But he’s never spent time there, or had the opportunity to really see her private space. It’s a stark contrast to her cold and minimal bedroom. The space isn’t big, so the green velvet couch placed in the middle of the room instead of against a wall is a bold choice. To the left and right of the sofa sit two small side tables, the floor space covered by a massive persian rug. 

Jessica gestures to this rug as she sits, legs crossed and arm thrown casually over the back of the sofa, causing her robe to cleave at the top, showing off her clavicles. 

Frankie finds his place in the middle of the carpet. He should feel vulnerable, fully naked in a new environment. But Jessica’s mild authority, untroubled by the situation, keeps him calm. 

“You just need two minutes, you said?” 

Frankie nods. 

“Very well, then. Two minutes is what you get,” she declares. And then, demanding:

“Kneel.”

And Frankie does. One knee at a time touches the soft carpet beneath him. His hands come down to support him before he sits back on his heels, head bowed, only looking up at her through his lashes when he hears her shuffle.

From the side table to her right, she picks up a round egg shaped gadget and turns the top and bottom halves in opposite directions. For a second he thinks it’s gonna vibrate, until he hears the ticking. Jessica puts the kitchen timer back down on the side table.

“Those are your precious seconds, big boy. You better start touching yourself.”

Frankie’s hand automatically shoots down to palm himself, already half hard from excitement, but seeing his hesitant movements, she clarifies.

“Two minutes to come for me, or you’re not gonna be allowed to come in a very…,” She drags out the pause between the words, “...Very long time. Understand?”

Frankie nods. 

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice is hoarse with anticipation. “I understand, ma’am.”

“Good boy.” She gives him a wink. “Now go on, make yourself come for me.”

Her command, combined with the ticking sound of time passing, has him quickly tugging at himself, eroticizing anything and everything he can see around him to get there; Jessica’s toned and shiny calves, the way a stray piece of hair has escaped her claw clip and softly caresses her cheekbone. His hand is tight around his cock as he fists himself frantically. Precum starts to gather at his tip, glistening in the soft lighting, and he smears it over his length.

Jessica spreads her legs on the couch in front of him, making Frankie groan with impatience, but she quickly places a hand in her lap, blocking his view.

“Look at you. So needy, so whiny.”

Frankie moans, not meeting her gaze, the quick pumps of his wrist making him sore and frustrated and he can feel something building, but he’s not quite there yet.

“I haven’t even undressed and you’re all worked up.” Her voice is soft and obnoxiously affectionate. “How pathetic.” 

He finally looks up at her face, his sad eyes begging for more; Frankie wants her to look at him too. Wants her to see him. But she doesn’t pay him any mind, she’s only eyeing the ticking clock. 

“One minute now,” she tsks. “It’s all the time you deserve, to be honest.”

And now she looks at him. Her gaze is sharp and domineering, but there’s something round behind it. Something in the shape of worry. It quickly disappears when she speaks again.

“You’re not worth any more of my attention,” she continues. “A disgrace, that’s what you are. Just a dirty, filthy masturbator.” 

As she shifts slightly in her seat, her robe slips off of one of her shoulders, exposing more of her skin and chest. Frankie swallows harshly at the sight. 

Mouth agape, tongue poking out to wet his lips, he squeezes his eyes shut, focusing only on the command, his one objective: come. The soft hairs of the carpet are starting to feel like knives, boring into his skin, a welcome pain were it not distracting him from the task at hand. He shifts ever so slightly from side to side, relieving his knees from the hurt in turn.

Jessica must sense his discomfort, because she purrs, 

“You’re not gonna come all over my carpet, are you?”

Frankie shakes his head frantically and begins to walk on his knees towards the shiny hardwood floor. 

“I’d have to make you clean it up,” Jessica continues.

Tears are pushing behind Frankie’s eyes as he nears release. His toes curl, and he grits his teeth, trying to block out the timer’s insistent ticks. 

“10 seconds, now,” she informs him. He squeezes his cock even harder, pumping himself with short quick strokes. Blood rushes through his ears, muffling Jessica’s voice as she counts down.

“Five, four…”

He’s outside of his body. His breath hitches.

“Three, two–”

As the room fills with the shrill of the alarm, Frankie’s cock pulses in his hand, spurting thick ropes of hot cum onto the floor. He keeps going, using his own spend as lubrication, choking his hard length until he’s shuddering, hunched over, sweaty and teary eyed. 

Frankie’s body slants forward. He steadies himself with his hands on his thighs, blinking slowly as he concentrates on catching his breath, returning his body. Jessica is patient. She waits until his chest fills and empties itself of air at a reasonable pace, and then she stands up and walks towards him. 

His head shoots up when she reaches him, but she places herself behind him, a comforting hand on each of his shoulders, and bends down to kiss his head.

“Stay,” she whispers as she gets back up and moves to leave the room, Frankie left on the floor with his thoughts and his mess. He wonders if he should clean up–even if he had managed to avoid the carpet–but he doesn’t have time to do anything before Jessica is back. She’s carrying his things, his shirt hanging over her arm as she works to turn his other clothes right side out. 

Slowly, carefully, she helps him back into what he’d been wearing when he’d arrived. One hand through the sleeve. Then the other. Stepping into his underwear, then his jeans, one leg at a time. She saves his hat for last. Before placing it over his messy head of curls, she cups his face with the palm of her hand. 

She leans in, placing a delicate kiss to his cheek, lips barely brushing his skin. Frankie blinks. Accepting softness from Jessica isn’t new to him, but the words she gives him after take him by surprise.

“I’m proud of you, Frankie.” 

Her eyes are earnest, open, genuine. He almost finds it in him to believe her, and allows himself to lean into her touch, resting his heavy head on her palm for a second shorter than he’d like to, breaking away when the darkness behind his closed eyelids makes way for pictures of you holding him, him leaning back on you. 

He quickly reassesses, telling himself this is your job, that he’s a customer, that he hadn’t even made an appointment. He should tip you at least 200%. Shaky hands dig into the pockets of his jeans, pulling out no more than two twenties. 

Swearing under his breath, Frankie starts to panic. 

“I– I didn’t…” he begins. “It was so spontaneous–”

She shushes him. “Don’t worry about it.” Her smile is heartfelt, which embarasses him even more. “I’m just glad you came.”

Frankie shakes his head. “No, I wanna pay. I mean, speaking of coming, let me at least wipe my cum off your floor.” He gestures to the sticky mess slowly coagulating on her floorboards. 

Jessica snickers.

“Do you do the dishes when you’ve eaten out too?” She raises her brows, and he chuckles, shaking his head quietly. 

“It’s all part of the service, baby. Come on, let me walk you out.”

On the doorstep, he gives Jessica a quick kiss goodbye. He thanks her again, and she thanks him back, though for what he’s not sure. Visiting? Choosing her? The company? Either way, he takes her gratitude and shoves it in his pocket with the twenties. When he reaches the lobby, passing a wall full of mailboxes, he quickly locates hers, and swiftly shoves the two bills into the mouth of it. 

Frankie’s feet start moving down the street, and his head absentmindedly follows. His skull is no less heavy, the feelings just as painful, and pictures of you still project onto the insides of his eyelids every time he blinks. But a lightness now coats his mind. A sense of victory. He resisted the easy way out. He chose to stay sober, even though he could’ve so easily gone back to his old ways of burying any unwanted feelings in torrents of snow. 

And with that feeling of achievement, of growth and gain, he realizes where his feet are taking him. The tall buildings turn into houses, the shop windows into white picket fences. In the distance he makes out the house you’ve made a home together. He prays you’ll open the door. That you’ll give him some time. He just needs two minutes.

i have a feeling tumblr is limiting my posts or something, and i don't have a taglist, so here are some absolutely no pressure tags for people i think might enjoy this/who have liked my previous fics?? let me know if i'm wrong!!

@joelsversion @joelscruff @missredherring @iamasaddie @toxicrecs @eupheme @sweetercalypso @mrsmando @lunitareads @amanitacowboy @tieronecrush @psychedelic-ink @perotovar @thetriumphantpanda @joelsgreys @undercoverpena @pedgito @wannab-urs @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses

[odinsblog]

This stinks to high heaven, or Jannah, or Valhalla, or whatever makes you happy

My big sister is gay. I was the first person she came out to when we were kids, not quite 20 yet. I care deeply about her. And as I matured + unlearned much of my ingrained adolescent homophobia, with my sister’s help, I have come to care deeply about the LGBTQ community. Even the white ones, and all the other non-Black ones too

I’m trying really hard to imagine hearing about something like the Pulse nightclub shooting and somehow not caring about some of the non-Black victims because they might not have shared my exact political beliefs. I can’t. I can’t imagine not caring. Not caring because of something so trivial by comparison of being murdered by a crazy person in cold blood.

Look, I guess at some point either you care about people or you don’t. And if you’re able to turn off who you feel sorrow for based on their race, religion or ideology, then I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know how to relate to you.

I’ve been trying not to post too TOO much about some specifics of what’s happening in Palestine and Israel, but I’m sorry: I feel bad for the innocent children and civilians who were murdered in cold blood in Israel. I know that the “any means” tankies crowd wants everyone to ignore their deaths (or worse celebrate their deaths), but I guess I’m not built that way.

Some of those people murdered at the concert, for example, were not only innocent civilians, but they were also pro-Palestinian activists who spent their time working for peace. I shed tears hearing their family members talking about them. Hamas murdered Holocaust survivors, ffs.

I absolutely can understand Jewish people feeling uneasy right now. They lost a ton of noncombatant civilians —not to mention children. And oh yeah, antisemitism has been at an all time high, unfortunately, just like Islamophobia is about to be. Again.

I might be wrong, but I honestly just do not think that Hamas did Palestinians any favors.

Yes, yes, I dO understand that violence is always a necessary part of freedom and decolonization.

“Nobody in the world, nobody in history, has ever gotten their freedom by appealing to the moral sense of the people who were oppressing them.” —Assata Shakur

So I’m a big podcast listener (helps occupy my mind whenever I’m working on long tedious projects), and I was listening to one where they interviewed a Jewish soldier who was recently activated, but he was out of Israel and had to fly back. He said something like, “If they had only attacked military targets, then I would get it. We got caught with our pants down, and all is fair in love and war, right? But the mass slaughter of civilian families, women and children is the reason I’m going back.”

I wanted to reach through my phone and ask him about Israel preparing to do exactly the same thing to Palestinians in retaliation, but alas I guess I just sounded like a crazy person yelling to himself in my office.

And yeah, before you read too much further, please understand that I dO support the fuck outta Palestine. Let me be unequivocal here: Israel is in the wrong. Israel has oppressed Palestinians for decades. For actual generations.

Remember when Israel literally bulldozed over a woman to build more houses in Gaza?

Yeah, seriously heinous shit, right?

And we don’t actually have a solid count for all the innocent murdered Palestinian civilians who were living in apartment buildings that Israel has been bombing to smithereens for the past few days. I understand that Israel and the West would have us believe that everyone in Gaza is a terrorist and nobody is an innocent civilian, but hopefully, if you’re reading this, YOU know better than that.

But that said ….. I cannot get with tankies—who, safe and sound in their homes, not being perpetually bombed—want to sound “hard” on social media, and make no distinctions with the people who were just minding their own fucking business at a goddamn concert. I think about all of the mass shootings in America (movie theaters, grocery stores, night clubs, concerts, schools, office buildings, etc) and I just cannot imagine justifying or excusing ANY of them because of the shooter’s “ideology.” I know it’s not an apples-to-apples comparison, but it’s close enough.

“If they were on colonized land then they deserved to die” is one hell of a fucked up take. The slippery slope is that if any of our loved ones are gunned down by “freedom fighters,” then we should just be happy for “the cause” and not shed any tears, because ALL of us deserve to die in America and other Western countries, because we’re all living on colonized land.

I cannot even begin to explain how flawed and fucked up that so-called reasoning is.

You have to have some fucking lines and boundaries.

We don’t just do a shoulder shrug when children are murdered in cold blood—and no, I’m not talking about the 40 babies allegedly beheaded, I’m just talking about the little toddlers who were shot through walls and died, and the elderly and disabled who were shown being dragged away. Yeah, I feel sorry for them too. And I won’t apologize for that.

Rape is wrong. All the time. Under all circumstances. Even when it’s happening to people who you don’t like.

Murdering children is wrong. All the time. Under all circumstances. Even when it’s the children of people who you don’t like.

Do I really need to spell this shit out? JFC.

If you don’t care about any of this because you’re “down for the cause,” then you. are. lost. Like really and truly lost. You aren’t a radical. You’re a fanatic. And hopefully you won’t be in a position to ever receive the fanatical Karma that you’re asking for.

Anyway…

I am on the side of Palestine in all of this. They never deserved to be oppressed by Israel or anyone.

Innocent Palestinian women and children are dying as you’re reading this. I’m shedding tears for them too. They’ve been going through this for way too long. That fact alone is beyond being a tragedy.

Palestine has already suffered and will suffer 10 times more than all of the civilians and noncombatants who were tragically murdered in Kfar Aza.

As always, my usual reminders:

The Holocaust happened

Antisemitism is real

Hamas ≠ Palestine

Israel is an apartheid state

Collective punishment is a war crime

Benjamin Netanyahu is a war criminal

You can support Palestine without being antisemitic

Free Palestine 🇵🇸

[alicavrozovomhotd]

It's a hot, hot day. The Targtowers and Alicole are riding on the river in a big boat!

(actually, I do not know what it is. I don't even know what a boat would look like. Rowers, sails? there are people there - servants, crew, but I had more fun and didn't think much, haha)

Before setting off, Alicent makes sure that her children are ready for a short trip. If they were in modern times, she would definitely make sure that the Targtowers were smeared with sunscreen! I think Helaena could have a light shawl to cover her head from the heat (like Alicent?). Ser Criston, of course, accompanies them. He's not wearing armor today, but he still has his weapons. Since this is a family trip, they are not accompanied by as many people as they could be.

Everyone come on board! Ser Criston helps Alicent up, because of course he will, but also Alicent holds Daeron in her arms so that he does not accidentally fall. He doesn't offer his hand to Helaena because she doesn't like to be touched, but he still backs her up so she doesn't fall. He also insures Aegon and Aemond, but Aegon and Aemond get on board easily. In fact, they don't come in at the same time, because the pig story, yes. Most likely it would be: Criston — Aegon — Helaena — Aemond — Alicent with Daeron.

Everyone disperses a little before sailing. Daeron is interested in everything, and he walks around the deck. Helaena is looking out for him, Aegon is just keeping company, and Ser Kriston is looking out for them all. Alicent and Aemond go to have a little chat with the captain, because Aemond is an inquisitive boy, and Alicent knows that it's better to let him know something in such a way that he doesn't get hurt (dragon pits...). Aegon constantly complains until they sail, so Helaena gives him her shawl, and he wraps himself up, like a grieving widow.

Departure! Alicent prefers to cut the fruits herself (oranges for Criston, cough). Ser Criston thinks to stand, but Alicent asks him to join, so they all sit. In fact, almost all of them know about the main attractions of King's Landing because they live here, but Aemond doesn't mind showing off little-known facts at all, so he kind of gives Daeron a tour. Aegon complains that it's boring, but adds some details himself. Sometimes he makes jokes that are not very appropriate for the company of his younger siblings and gets a remark from his mother. I think Helaena has very sharp eyesight! Can she notice some details that interest her, like certain plants and insects? Daeron is trying to repeat the names of the beetles after her! Alicent and Criston also share the stories of the cities they have visited. To a greater extent, this is, of course, Oldtown and Sunnspear. Ser Criston also recalls some small ports where he visited.

A lot of people wave at them, and they wave back. Daeron is especially trying to let everyone know that he sees them too. Even Aegon is waving, but it's not very noticeable because he's sprawled out on some couch or something? He left the place to Helaena in exchange for a shawl.

On the way back, they play word games. Aemond names a lot of complicated terms, only Alicent can compete with him. Helaena calls out a lot of words that are incomprehensible to anyone but her, but it passes anyway. Are these insect names or did Helaena just make them up? Who knows. Aegon joins the game. They team up with Daeron, and Aegon prompts him. Daeron can't sit still. Aegon also tries to steal pieces of fruit from other people. Sometimes Aegon and Aemond use some battle-related words that Criston mentioned when he was training them, and at these moments he feels very proud. Alicent and Criston also like to explain what words they said (I think it's a military topic for Kriston and a historical one for Alicent?), and somehow it turns into a form of flirtation between them that the whole family knows about, except for themselves and Daeron.

They're coming back. The children are exempt from evening classes (since they are members of the royal family, I think they have a lot of lessons?), but Alicent and Criston still have things to do. Despite this, I hope everyone had a good time!

[indignantlemur]

in an alternative reality in which the andorians contacted humanity first, would they get along or would they get frustrated with each other?

Thank you.

Hey! Thanks for the ask! I think first contact between Humans and Andorians would have been guarded, but ultimately positive - I just don't think it would have been as positive as first contact with the Vulcans turned out to be. (Also, I answered a very similar question on AO3 a little while back, but somehow neglected to copy it over to my directory, so I hope you don't mind if reiterate parts of that answer here!)

I think Andoria would have encouraged Earth to take a more military-minded developmental route, and possibly even gone as far as to take Earth as a protectorate planet until such a time as Earth was up to speed and able to stand as an equal ally. After all, these silly little pink things are far too friendly for their own good and their idea of space travel is to strap themselves onto a bomb and hope for the best, apparently, which is utter madness. Someone has to look out for them, and Spirits know if Andoria doesn't do it, it'll be someone with far less savoury intentions.

I do not, however, think that Terran civilization would have benefited as much as it did with Vulcan influence. Don't get me wrong, I love Andorians and I love writing about them, but Vulcans were what Humans needed at the time of their first contact. Earth had been ravaged by constant conflict and war, the environment was in shambles, the economy was even worse, and the Human population as a whole was suffering from the fallout of weapons of mass destruction. Vulcans and Humans have similar enough physiologies that sorely needed medical improvements were rapidly adapted and implemented by Humans after first contact, which contributed significantly to the general disposition of Humans towards Vulcans. Meanwhile, Andorian physiology is radically different from Human physiology and would have rendered much of their potential medical relief useless. Of course, Andorians would have helped with the other aspects of Earth's problems once diplomatic ties were established, especially if Earth was a protectorate, but I think they would have been wary of giving too much powerful tech to a species that nearly bombed itself out of existence less than a century ago. Not to say that Vulcans weren't equally wary, but I think Andorians would have been even less inclined to share certain technologies than Vulcans were until Humans had proven that they were stable and sensible enough not to do anything stupid with them. Warp technology comes to mind, for example.

I also suspect that instead of Humans exploring space on their own ships in the ST:ENT era, we might have seen blended Human/Andorian crews on Terran-made ships based on Andorian designs. Such an overt affiliation with Andoria would have coloured a lot of first contacts with other species - some for the better, perhaps, but definitely not all of them. Certainly, Human-Vulcan first contact with Andorians on board would have been a disaster.

I think unless relations between Humans and Andorians were handled carefully, there would be every chance of the relationship becoming somewhat patronizing, in much the same way that the Human-Vulcan relations became condescending after a while.

Now, I don't think that Andorians would be the same kind of condescending as Vulcans, but I do think there would be a vaguely proprietary, older sibling-ish overtone to the relationship between the two species. Very much an 'I taught you everything you know' sort of dynamic - at least until Humans invent something uniquely Terran in origin and surprise Andorians. I do think, however, that whenever Andorians held back technology or information they would at least be more upfront about it. Instead of saying figure it out yourselves they would probably outright say something more along the lines of by figuring out the principles of how this works on your own, you can take those principles and adapt what you learn to solve other problems, but if we just give it to you, you might not. Which is true, given that a surprising number of humanity's most clever innovations started out as research for something else. It would also be much more reasonable to the Human mindset, even if some would grumble and complain, versus the Vulcan's enigmatic and vague answers.

I think Humans would get cranky eventually anyway, of course, but I think it would be more about the Andorians' hands-off approach rather than the Vulcan's stifling and controlling one. Humans like to explore and discover things on their own, equal parts bravery and optimism, and while the Human species as a whole tends to think most aliens are friend-shaped until proven otherwise, I think Andorians could respect a lot of common Human traits and values. Likewise, I think Humans could find quite a lot about Andorian culture to embrace as well.

Ultimately, I do see Earth and Humans as a whole eventually settling into almost the same place that they do when they finally become fully independent of Vulcan's influence, if with a slightly more militaristic slant to things.

It's hard to say how the cultural influences would pan out without sitting down and figuring out how every single Human culture views key Andorian values, but overall I think the short answer to your question is: yes. We'd get along, and get frustrated with each other.

Hope this answers your question - and if I've missed something, feel free to hope back into my inbox! <3

[youngpettyqueen]

9, 10, 20, 21!

9: worst part of canon

me 2 seconds ago: im not gonna go on about the anti-military stance of MASH softening

me seeing this: SO THE ANTI-MILITARY STANCE OF MASH SOFTENING-

for real though. as much as I love the show as a whole, I wish they kept the anti-military stance of seasons 1 - 3. I hate that it got lax and slowly got softer and softer as the show went on. yes the anti-war themes remain but its such a weird stance they take where they try to go "well not all army people are bad" with the introduction of Potter that ultimately just doesnt work

also the way Klinger gets treated often being shoved under the rug. my man deserved BETTER

10: worst part of fanon

I did answer this one but ill focus on a specific character here and say I really dont like a lot of fanon Klinger stuff I used to see when I was in the tags more. people make him out to be really dumb which is a large issue in the show itself, even though he's like. really fucking smart. but there's also a general issue ive seen of him being made out to be this, like, flamboyant slutty character which doesnt match him at all?? he's a romantic! he wants to get married! he's a sweetheart with the ladies- and close friends with the nurses, too. it doesnt surprise me this happens, fandoms in general are just. incapable of being normal about characters of colour, but I still hate to see it

20: part of canon you found tedious or boring

answered this one!

21: part of canon you think is overhyped

I love to joke around about queer subtext but I really really get nervous when I see people act like MASH was somehow deliberately queer. I think you can make a case for queerness as an anti-military device in the early seasons! but thats about it, I dont genuinely think any of these characters were meant to be read as queer themselves, and I think its important to remember that

like I love to call them all queer and say "what was the heterosexual reason for this" but at the end of the day. im well aware they weren't meant to be read that way. the heterosexual explanation is that these characters were written by heterosexual writers and queer jokes have always been a thing. MASH has fortunately aged fairly well in some of these and its easy to relate to the humour, but when people act like characters being queer is like, deliberate and canon subtext... I get nervous. ive been in a lot of fandoms over the years where this happens and it never ends well, it always ends up in queer baiting discourse and ship wars and it just. sucks

thats the long way of saying I think the fandom way overhypes what is considered queer subtext

[waitineedaname]

i finished the first 24 chapters of the fma manga!! my thoughts so far, under the cut bc it got long

edward is a fucking gremlin. my camera roll is just turning into a collection of panels where ed looks like a horrible gremlin child and i love it

related to that, I adore arakawa's art style. it's not TOO different from the style in the anime, but there are certain little quirks specific to her art that I love, like the Enormous Frowns she likes to draw

alphonse seems like he's allowed to be more snarky in the manga and I appreciate that. he is constantly being like "oh my god brother you're an embarrassment to be around, STOP IT"

yoki sucks and deserves everything that happens to him later in the series

the fucking chapter where ed is like "we should do something nice for hughes when we get back :)" and then you turn the page to see hughes's coffin. and then later that chapter is scar's nightmare and him waking up being taken care of in the slums. I am eating DRY WALL.

while in general I'm finding I like brotherhood's pacing as much/more than the manga, I do think the backstory is presented way better in the manga. goddamn they cut a lot in brotherhood, especially the stuff with izumi

speaking of izumi, I love her and I love sig and I love how much they love each other. it's still so good to me that sig is this enormous bear of a man with a resting scowl, but he's so sweet to the boys and is like "shouldn't we be less hard on them" meanwhile izumi is the scariest housewife on the fucking planet. god i love the curtises.

I already thought mustang was an asshole in the backstory in brotherhood, but WOW HE SOMEHOW SUCKS EVEN MORE IN THE MANGA. I'M GOING TO ATTACK HIM LIKE A FERAL ANIMAL. this dude decided to verbally abuse a depressed and disabled child, recruit him into the military, and then hold the threat of being arrested over his head to keep him in line. no wonder ed hates his ass.

I've put the next couple volumes on hold and im v excited to read more 👍

[cornus27florida]

3 times I am reaching discord message (2k characters limit) = Plaid Royals Men

This long post begins from the conversation and growing concerns regarding Plaid Royals men in the CPC story. Warning as it's likely has biases as it written subjectively from me but I like to compile things I am written about = which likely in total are 6k+ characters in here as Tumblr post

Note, rereading helps a lot to understand the context of my sayings, I suggest reread certain episodes (like the end of the gala, depends on own eyes power) slowly while putting on shoes of opposite character as used before. This rereading technique very beneficial for CPC, like when rereading of Aurelia tricking arc but from her perspective - we becomes more attentive for her expressions and sayings thus become symphatetic to her as well. The long text is to answer one simple question lmao, overblown to be a long analysis

I am not sure about Blaine honestly, I feel if Plaid royals men on forgiveness level + how they amend it .. it will be like this:

Leland:

completely unforgivable, years of abusing his own Family and actually backstabbing his BFF (I don't care for his reason, simply Petty obsession imho) = I feel the best outcome to get his bad karma bites him, either as: he stripped of his power as the king, and or somehow cursed that makes him stop

Blaine:

his reason, thoughts and others becomes more uncertain and I really don't know about him.. but one thing is, I have a sliver of hope that he could be redeemable (but his journey for it won't be showed with the remaining episodes left some people are neutral or hating him sm rn, the best is if we have timeskip of the CPC for him to be 'better person' as toxicity stopped). About his relationship with Maria? I am not sure if that's even could be salvageable.. One closing statement: he need to fix his mistakes first which he kept building and not stopping such as calling Frederick a loser and using Maria's info regarding side door as a test

The Duality of Blaine there, a duality means hypocrite as well

Lance:

I used to have high hopes that he could changes by defecting the Plaid troop along with Suzie, but reading comment section (which said him a coward) and his inactivy worrying me. I am not sure if he could be forgiven by a hard headed like person as Lorena, but him keep silent also doubles to him 'becomes at least not as worse as Blaine' as he did'nt telly-tale about Lorena has homework regarding defense which imply of palace defense increase. I feel once the toxicities of Leland truly stopped somehow and we have time skip, I could see Lance has good relationship with Lorena again although it likely won't be romantic one as used before (like they're collagues in their respected kingdom military)

Frederick:

TBH I am relating to him SM to the point I am afraid to make biases but please hear me out first. The saying "everyone hates Frederick before" isn't right to me. As I used to think people opinion about Frederick mistake about Gwen's appearance is a bit too much, I am with him as the CPC art in early art is roughish and Gwen appearance indeed 'horrifying'

- imagine getting served to an apple pie slice directly after incident of poisoned by Apple couples with 'creepy' smile [which look like a smirk] = she actually the fiancee you engaged to, which appearance somehow unlike the rest of her family. how shocked you'll be? Frederick is in so much shocked and frustations, and he tried to escape thus thinking but situations couldn't came (his brothers that 'happy' with their fiancees wanna stays longer, and Jamie's wake giving opportunity to stay longer) + we learn later on in ep 33-34 why Frederick becomes like that, but I want to highlight the implication of the incident instead compares it with Lilyth's, Gwen's mother, situation

The incident leads to Gwen meets the CPC, support system (that could give therapies in their own way as well) which not exist in Lilyth's time that helps her immensely in her journey of self-love, and unexpectedly for Frederick as well - the interactions of our protagonist (Gwen), our deuteragonist (Frederick) and various characters especially the CPC becomes step of their love life story - yet it shackled with shared negative experience "shattered image", remembers that both Gwen and Frederick experiences that due to failed first meeting to people that they're eager to meet for The experience although similar in sense, resulting in very different results due to how they responds and acts for it

-> skipping forward aka back to the topic, forgiveness comes by admitting one's mistake first. Frederick unaware that Gwen heard him but already reaching out Twice to Gwen in different occasions (first at crystal room, second after the haunted house) about it - but as extreme way to halt Leland's plan, the reveal of Frederick's mistake come heartwrenching as a waffle note

Frederick is already forgiven by Gwen, but I don't think Gwen has closure about it as it likely that Gwen not forgiving herself - in a way that she allowing romantic love from Frederick as being more selfish, but doing so make her relied to Frederick's opinion and love.. and the end of the gala make Gwen thinks she's the reason for the broken marriage arrangements between Plaid and Pastel - but what if the arrangements is doomed from the start as Leland himself told that the Plaid Princes should faking their affections to the Pastel Princesses? This one of biggest Mystery that I feel likely would be told in the future - Why Frederick the one that left out not knowing the full of the plan, and in the past forced to make the engagements still going? The closing statement about Frederick, also to avoid reaching limit again: Frederick is already forgiven by Gwen and Jamie is approved him+constantly supporting Gwen and Frederick somehow (including help him escape the prison), and as opposed as keep doing mistakes (like Blaine) or not doing anything (like Lance) - he keeps doing amends even thou had obstacles here and there (like his warning not taking seriously by everyone except Prez but at that point' it becomes too late) - but Maria and Lorena still not forgiving him, and thinking that he's the last person to be near Gwen + Jack that not knowing the situation and could be mad about Frederick's past mistake ..but I feel this final season 'as bearing the end' is shaping Frederick to be the Hero that shown everyone that he's worthy to Gwen and somehow saved everyone

Is just I am still have no idea how, but I feel it has tragic element with interacting the final scene of the Little tiniest Prince that got bitten by the snake and told the protagonist aka narrator astronaut to stay away even thou he convulses in pain = I feel somehow the heroic action is involving if Frederick saves Gwen, by sacrificing himself during his confrontation against the mysterious Giant serpent

[lemonhemlock]

Different anon here; the discourse surrounding Jace and Sara Snow is crazy for sure but it's not the only ship catching strays lmao. I've even seen some team black stans calling out others for shipping Jace and Cregan, saying "do you really think it's any better if he cheats on Baela with a man???!!!". Are Jace and Baela really in love with each other for us to be having this discourse about cheating though? Sure, they are betrothed and him possibly marrying Sara is bad from a political standpoint but other than that… Anyway, it's funny to me how much the fandom as a whole is so allergic to any cheating ever happening, especially if they already ship one of the characters with someone else. You can see the same thing happening with Nettles v. Da*myras, countless arguments on how Daemon would never cheat on Rhaenyra…yeah well, he did just that!! But in this case they don't even to acknowledge the very likely possibility that she ISN'T his bastard daughter. On the green side you see this with Helaemond antis, who are always arguing how dutiful Aemond will never act on his feelings and Helaena would never cheat on Aegon because, as a daughter of Alicent, she was raised to respect the sanctity of her marriage, no matter how unfaithful her husband is to her. So in a world in which men are raping and sexually assaulting women, killing countless innocent victims, ordering the beheading of a years old child and threaten another with rape all of this while their mother watches and lots of other atrocities it's the CHEATING that fans have a problem with!! It's pretty bizarre, like in this world cheating is far from being the worst thing a man can do. And, as a personal opinion, it's very hard for me to judge characters who are seeking and finding love with someone else other than their betrothed or their lawful spouse. Should I, for example, condemn a woman who is in an arranged marriage with an awful man, if she were to take a lover? Definitely not. Sure,there are political ramifications when it comes to affairs, broken betrothals and all that, but that's another discussion vs the morality or immorality of cheating being the worst thing ever

the cheating thing is definitely so strange to me. the way it's been demonised in this fandom throughout teams and ships must be indicative of some projection phenomenon or the seeping of the fictional into the real world, otherwise i can't explain it. like, these people aren't real. their feelings won't get hurt by some adjacent ship. and like you said, cheating is hardly the worst thing that can happen to them in this universe, it's probably actually the least of their problems.

it's kind of like... cheating is an experience that people can more readily relate to irl, so a lot of users focus on that bc it's the one thing they can understand as a harmful act, whereas toddler beheading is so extreme and phantasmagorical that it firmly remains within the fictional realm, as very few unfortunate souls have actually gone through that or live with it as an actual threat in their lives. so you get this peculiar discoursing where people focus on cheating as this awful crime and fight others in the trenches over how immoral or sinful it is, whereas actual atrocities like burning people alive and torture are swept under the rug or shrugged off. it's absolutely nuts to me to accept that a character like aemond could go on a carpet bombing spree and execute children at harrenhal, yet somehow him consensually boning his married sister is taking it too far.

there's also a worrying inability or refusal to rank these acts on a proper scale of awfulness, bc some of these are absolutely not equivalent. so, to use your example, jace's actual cheating on a girl he is betrothed to not by choice, but by political convenience, would be less egregious than him supposedly marrying a bastard girl and jeopardizing his mother's alliance with an important military actor (i.e. house velaryon)

[whatthefishh]

They’ve all seen John Wick and Triple Frontier and have very strong opinions.

What are their opinions?

Sorry for taking long to answer this anon! Had a busy work week, but here we are now :) Moon Boys + John Wick / Triple Frontier

tw: spoilers for John Wick and Triple Frontier, animal dying, violence?

John Wick

Marc relates to John's character, with his military/merc history, finding the love he never thought he deserved

the movie is made for dog lovers (I mean not really but still yknow), all of your moon boys hate that scene but they get it, get the rage that would surface if it were them

little puppy Daisy HAS STEVEN MELTING, he was so alone for a while, he wishes he had a little companion like that other than Gus

Jake hates the scene where the guy is just slapping the Mustang and asking for a price, he's shuffling uncomfortably during it and mumbling Spanish swear words at his character

Steven hates the death of the dog so much, hates the way they showed the violence for it and almost wants to turn off the movie but instead lets Jake front to let him process and gather his bearings

Steven does come back out when the Vulture (B99) pops out, "Oi, what's he doin' in a film like this?"

obviously from there, the action just picks up and the boys switch fronting to comment (Marc appreciating a certain move, Jake bragging "I can do that, too, but with less grunting")

Steven is a Willem Dafoe fan from Wes Anderson films and Spider-man

honestly, the whole hard-to-get-out once you're involved thing gives Marc major flashbacks of Khonshu's initial deal, so he heavily relates to John

the silent lethal way John moves reminds them of some of their heavier, ruthless Moonknight nights

the copper taste of bloodshed is brought back to Marc from his mercenary days, the pedestal of an iconic ex-assassin making him wince from the glamour they've painted his reality with

as cheesy as some of the dialogue is - which they critisize, "nobody talks like that in real life" and "this guy sounds like a pendejo"

"I knew I liked that guy!" (Steven about Willem's character, he always was good at reading people)

after all that action, John goes to adopt another dog which makes Steven really happy and the other two content with the way everything was settled in the end

overall, they would NOT watch it again, opinions being it was borderline triggering for Marc even though they related to John's portrayal, they wouldn't go through that again so they didn't bother with the sequel

Triple Frontier

you somehow convince the boys to watch Triple Frontier, even though they see straight through your interests, "its only because Poe and Mando are in it," Marc says rolling his eyes

first ten minutes and he's already complaining about how tight Santiago's pants are

Jake fronts when he starts speaking Spanish, squinting his eyes, closely listen to his accent, immediately taking a liking to Santi

Steven fronts to say he gets bad vibes from Tom, shaking his head and frowning, "no, no, don't like that one"

Marc loves the soundtrack, "You know I'm a sucker for Stevie- no not you, Steven, Stevie Nicks"

Marc surprises you by saying Fish reminds him of a friend of his, and says his and Santiago's relationship is similar to what they had

he likes this movie better than John Wick, he can understand their initiative, their purpose, and takes a liking to the team's brotherhood

Steven doesn't miss the way you ogle Santi through the bar scene, popcorn falling out of your hands when he starts beating at the wall to get at the money, jumping to call you out on it

Jake starts shaking his head at Tom's greed, "This pendejo is going to get them killed"

eventually, they get quiet after Tom's death, most likely thinking of Marc's past, and their own battles

you spend the last half hour of the movie looking back and forth between their face and the screen, trying to make sure they're alright

they definitely like this movie better than John Wick, commenting that the ending was more fulfilling than the other, and mumbled something about reaching out to Frenchie

errr, hope this fulfilled... what you wanted LOL

[sun-lit-roses]

The Broca Divide

I’m prepared for anything in this episode: more Goa’uld? A new planet (PLEASE)? Weird 90s feminism? Bring it on! Season 1, Episode 5, here we go!

Ooo we’re referencing back to the pilot. I like that there’s a throughline to at least some of the plots.

‘I pride myself on my deductive reasoning skills.’ Sam looks like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or hit him. The General would definitely like to do the latter 😂

Why’s that guy giving Teal’c the ol’ side eye?

Oh, she’s leaning closer to hitting now.

Although, yeah, I would never get a single planet right if I had to remember a - what? six? digit code for each of them.

Why do I get the feeling SG-3 aren’t the friendliest bunch? Although maybe it’s just a little Air Force-Marines rivalry going on.

‘We’ll watch your back sides.’ ‘It’s my front side I’m worried about.’ Daniel’s been around Jack too much.

Did that guy just shove Sam out of the way?!

Oh good, I wanted to spend the evening squinting at my tv. I’m willing to believe it’s night, turn up the lights.

We’ve got squint vision or green night vision. I do not like these choices.

AH

Are those cavemen?

This is the second time we’ve seen cavemen in this show already. Is that going to become a theme?

Okay, guess we’re still going to explore this world despite the World’s Most Violent Welcome Wagon.

Daniel, that is not what survival of the fittest means at all, your 90s is showing. Now stop trying to prevent Sam from kicking ass. I would like to watch that.

Now there’s ghosts? Well, at least they’re trying to save that woman.

‘The Untouched’ I’m guessing whatever separates these people from the cavemen?

Hey, daylight!

And a whole city. Minoan, it seems. What are they going to do when they run out of Earth cultures?

A disease, maybe, that spreads among them. A bit like rabies, if they go mad.

No Goa’uld today!

Aw, the Nerd Duo is sad.

I’m not sure what harm it would do to spend an hour or so there - shouldn’t they be starting diplomatic relations or something? Are they just planning to spend fifteen minutes per planet and then never go back to any of them? Seems like a waste of resources.

I guess they didn’t run into the Touched on the way back? They had to go back to the Land of Dark to get to the gate, right? Maybe they were still scared away.

YAY! The nerds win! Also, yeah, it probably shouldn’t have taken the President to figure out that it might be nice to get a little more scientific bang for the military buck out of these missions.

Okay, Side-Eye Guy has moved on from side-eyeing to fist throwing. Have you seen Teal’c, sir? Why does this strike you as a good plan?

Teal’c’s not even phased. ‘I would prefer not to hurt this man.’ King of Cool.

Drooling - maybe this is related to rabies? He’s clearly been infected by the Touched somehow.

‘Maybe he was drunk.’ No one else made the Touched connection? Or maybe you just came back from Planet Rage People?

Well, that was dramatic.

Uh oh, Sam’s scratching her neck - she’s infected, too! Probably?

Uh. Okay. Well, that’s not a *violent* reaction exactly. Why is she kissing Jack all of a sudden? And where’d her shirt go? And how did no one notice her in the locker room?

‘I want you.’ ‘Why?’ Poor man, he’s very confused in this moment 😂

‘Not like this.’ Hm, that’s interesting. I mean, he’s been loutish a couple times (’I like women’ and ‘It’s working for me’ - yeah, Jack I’m not forgetting over here.) But mostly he seemed to see her as an annoying scientist.

At least Jack’s head is still clear - to Medical!

A new doctor! Let’s hope she has a better track record than the last ones.

Question. If everyone from the team that went to Planet Rage is coming down with this violent disease, why are the other team members allowed to wander around freely? Shouldn’t they be in observation or quarantine? At least until they figure out how it’s spreading?

How does Daniel not know what’s going on?

Ooo I think Jack might be tipping over to the Dark Side here.

Yep, another one down.

And NOW we have the whole team getting their blood tested. I guess it’s early days and they don’t have a protocol in place for Weird New Planet Disease, but this seems like it should have occurred to someone a little sooner?

Daniel and Teal’c team up, woot!

Oh good, it seems less dark this time!

Aw, that poor girl was infected.

And now Daniel’s been kidnapped by cavemen. They just aren’t having any luck this episode.

Oh no, not the General!

Hey, they have a clue now - heavy sedation. Not ideal, but more than they had! And Jack volunteered to be a test subject 🥺

Well, there go the diplomatic options. Teal’c is perhaps a shade too blunt for this task. But just the right person to knock out a guard and get a blood sample!

Sam got stabbed?! That’s going to be unpleasant when she’s back to normal.

I hope this doctor survives, she’s very cute when she’s excited about Science!

It worked!!

‘I cannot be certain you are recovered, you referred to me as Lucy.’ 😂

Everyone’s back to normal. Wait, why is Sam going, wasn’t she stabbed?

They’re going to cure everybody! Huzzah! I think the Doc mentioned there was something in their diet that promoted antihistamines. Guess eating your veggies just became imperative on this planet.

I am 100% positive that Jack remembers what happened and is just pretending not to because Sam was going to awkward her way through that whole conversation. Braver woman than me - I would have pretended not to remember any of it.

Sam did get stabbed!

Oh, so he did remember and was just waiting to roast her. Rescinding those tact points there.

Although it seemed to make her laugh, so I’ll leave that at a draw in the ‘is he just a massive jerk’ tally.

Rating: 🔘🔘🔘

3/5 Gates I know I said I was prepared for anything, but Rage People Disease was not exactly what I expected. Still, we got a new planet (woohoo!), a quirky disease, giant bulls, a win for the scientists, and Teal’c being an utter delight. Gates deducted for Sam inexplicably molesting her CO unlike everyone else’s reactions.

Also, is everyone taking turns being kidnapped? It was all of them in the pilot, Sam in episodes 3 and 4, and now Daniel. At this rate they should microchip SG-1.

[spatio-rift]

mar i want to keep up w ur loreposting but idk there are aliens? is the alien story like new unrelated to kidou and friends or is it like related and how

IM SO SORRY LAB THIS SHOW IS CRAZY. are there aliens: kinda... but not really... but then yes. for the ones i talk about though then yes its related to kidou and friends :) putting the whole explanation under a read more cuz its... super long somehow

aliea are the antagonists of the second season/second game. its an organization that claims to come from a planet of the same name, and they suddenly launch an attack against japan as their first target in the destruction of earth. since theyre using soccer to invade earth, kidou & friends (and some more friends gained later on the way) are entrusted w the task of defeating the aliens, since theyre the new champions of this one national tournament and as such the best soccer team in the country (dont mind that theyre in middle school the inazuma world revolves around that age period. im gonna have to ask you to suspend your disbelief)...

...in reality though these "aliens" are human children all from the same orphanage owned by kira seijirou, head of the kira zaibatsu, who is mostly known for arms dealings, weapon manufacturing and such. kira lost his beloved son years ago when he went overseas for a soccer training camp and died there, which kira knew to be a murder, but since the perpetrator was a politicians son the whole affair was kept quiet and made out to be an unfortunate accident. despite the pressure kira put on them the government never investigated the case any further and the killer never paid for his act. drowning in his grief and anger kira started to resent the world.

(*) things were not moving much however until 5 years prior to the story (present time), when a meteorite with mysterious power crashed near mt fuji. to be honest im not sure about the extent of the governments involvement at the beginning of the project so ill just move on but the point is kira decides to use the meteorite for military ends, the prime minister doesnt approve of it going that far and cuts all ties w the kira zaibatsu (who was financially (? and more?) supporting them before). i think part of it is that kira was using it to force the government to reopen his dead sons case but im really not sure so dont take my word for it. anyway thats the last straw for kira so hes continuing his little project without the governments involvement, for the explicit purpose of using it against them (and also making profit off it on the side).

to come back to the aliens. basically the meteorite if used on humans greatly enhances their strength, speed etc(**) to a level that seems inhuman which is how the kids successfully fooled everyone into believing they were aliens. (and the kira technology that made it look like they were teleporting etc... all for the sake of making that illusion believable). and the kids are doing all this because theyre all orphans living at that orphanage that kira owns. its kind of unclear for the lower ranked teams (because theyre introduced and beaten before the truth comes to light, and they arent shown in orphanage flashbacks cuz the teams possibly were kept separate (?)), but the higher ones see kira as a father and savior which is why they willingly became his soldiers in his quest for revenge, and are devoted to him to the end despite knowing that what theyre doing is wrong. the way kira uses these childrens desperate love for him to turn them into weapons and doesnt thing of them as anything but tools for his personal revenge on the world is chilling honestly. the games better about this btw the anime has him change his mind way too fast. just saying.

errmm i dont really have anything more to say i think. i realize now that you maybe werent asking about the whole aliea lore so sorry (i like talking about it) but basically this is how the alien thing came to be and its related to kidou n everyone because theyre the bad guys raimon have to repeatedly fight against... oh i wanted to add aliea choosing to use soccer to destroy the world is really silly but kiras whole story (TO ME) recontextualizes it as something like. kira choosing to use the very thing that got his son killed to take revenge on the world that failed him... i think... well its very goofy but its fine if you dont think about it too much. HOPE THIS CLEARS IT UP A LITTLE FOR U...

also (*) sometime after his sons death and before the aliea meteorite crashes on earth kira started training the kids whod later become the team named genesis to be like... essentially his perfect child supersoldiers, probably as part of his revenge against the government? kind of unclear but also this is game only stuff so its fine to ignore it if you want. but i like it it makes me want to kms so i wanted to mention it

and (**) the meteorite also messes w peoples heads so it can be used to literally brainwash them :) this is why i mention brainwashing so much in my posts its a major plot point in at least 2 chapters of the story (one of which directly involves kidou since its his besties being brainwashed into hating his guts lol). shit is going down in the middle school soccer world

[nicklloydnow]

“Altogether, the Biden administration received Congressional approval for $40bn in aid for Ukraine for 2022 and has requested an additional $37.7bn for 2022. More than half of this aid has been earmarked for defense.

These sums pale into insignificance when set against a total US defense budget of $715bn for 2022. The assistance represents 5.6% of total US defense spending. But Russia is a primary adversary of the US, a top tier rival not too far behind China, its number one strategic challenger. In cold, geopolitical terms, this war provides a prime opportunity for the US to erode and degrade Russia’s conventional defense capability, with no boots on the ground and little risk to US lives.

The Ukrainian armed forces have already killed or wounded upwards of 100,000 Russian troops, half its original fighting force; there have been almost 8,000 confirmed losses of armored vehicles including thousands of tanks, thousands of APCs, artillery pieces, hundreds of fixed and rotary wing aircraft, and numerous naval vessels. US spending of 5.6% of its defense budget to destroy nearly half of Russia’s conventional military capability seems like an absolutely incredible investment. If we divide out the US defense budget to the threats it faces, Russia would perhaps be of the order of $100bn-150bn in spend-to-threat. So spending just $40bn a year, erodes a threat value of $100-150bn, a two-to-three time return. Actually the return is likely to be multiples of this given that defense spending, and threat are annual recurring events.

(…)

Meanwhile, replacing destroyed kit, and keeping up with the new arms race that it has now triggered with the West will surely end up bankrupting the Russian economy; especially an economy subject to aggressive Western sanctions. How can Russia possibly hope to win an arms race when the combined GDP of the West is $40 trillion, and its defense spending amounting to 2% of GDP totals well in excess of $1 trillion when the disproportionate US defense contribution is considered? Russia’s total GDP is only $1.8 trillion. Vladimir Putin will have to divert spending from consumption to defense, risking social and political unrest over the medium term, and a real and soon-to-be present danger to his regime. Just imagine how much more of a bargain Western military aid will be if it ultimately brings positive regime change in Russia.

Second, the war has served to destroy the myth that Russian military technology is somehow comparable to that of the US and West. Remember that Ukraine is using only upgraded second generation US technology but is consistently beating whatever Russia’s military can deploy. Wars are shop windows for defense manufacturers; any buyer in their right mind will want the technology made by the winner. Putin’s misjudgment has merely provided a fantastic marketing opportunity for its Western competitors.

(…)

Third, the revelation that Russia’s defense industry is something of a Potemkin village also generates other strategic and diplomatic wins for the US. Countries eager to secure defense capability to meet their own threats – think of Turkey, India, Pakistan, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia — might have opted for cheaper, “value” Russian defense offerings. However, with the quality/capability of this equipment now being questioned because of poor battlefield performance, they will likely be vying to acquire a better US kit. But this will require improved diplomatic relations. This is currently evident in the improved US–Pakistan relationship, with Pakistan securing upgrade kits for its F-16s.

Fourth, helping Ukraine beat Russia surely also sends a powerful signal to China that the US and its allies are strong and determined when challenged on issues of core importance. This may raise questions in the minds of Xi Jinping and the People’s Liberation Army generals about their ability to win a conflict against countries armed with US/Western military technology, for example in Taiwan. Surely Russia’s difficulty in winning the war in Ukraine will cause second thoughts in China about the wisdom and perhaps the viability of efforts to conquer Taiwan.

Fifth, the war in Ukraine is encouraging and accelerating the energy transition in Europe, but also Europe’s diversification away from Russian energy. Europe is desperately trying to source alternative energy supplies, and US liquefied natural gas (LNG) is proving to be the obvious beneficiary.

In conclusion, on so many levels, continued US support for Ukraine is a no-brainer from a bang for buck perspective. Ukraine is no Vietnam or Afghanistan for the US, but it is exactly that for Russia. A Russia continually mired in a war it cannot win is a huge strategic win for the US.

Why would anyone object to that?”

“Russia has raised more than $13 billion in just one day as the cost of Vladimir Putin's war with Ukraine keeps mounting.

Britain's Ministry of Defence said on Saturday that the Russian Federation had conducted its largest debt issuance on Wednesday.

Its intelligence report also said that Russia's declared "national defence" spending in 2023 is estimated to be about 5 trillion rubles ($84 billion), or more than 40% higher than forecast.”

[shopboughtchaos]

Don't mind me, just using the space to throw up a little side project/character study for an OC who's being an awkward git and also for some accountability. Anyway, it's become a chapter story now somehow - so here's chapter one! (Set in England in 1943 - I haven't history rabbitholed this (yet), I'm running on pure vibes for this one; M/M romance - nothing explicit (yet?). CW: c/PTSD and related concerns (checking for self-harming tendancies, nightmares, etc) unapologietic swearing) ***

It made no sense at all if Roberts stopped to think about it, how the same sun looked so different going down over German trees, and English. English trees were… thinner, somehow. Pulled apart from their brethren and forced to stand alone against anything the world had to throw at them. German trees grew close, limbs tangled together as though no force of God or man could tear them apart - an impressive show of force in defiance of the march of time, remaining a place of ancient wild-land that made stories of witches and other monsters far more believable than the children’s stories of quaint fair-folk England had been left with. England’s sparse nature had no threat - no bears, no wolves, no soldiers; no coverage thick enough to shield them. Perhaps that was the difference. Forced to grow so far apart, English trees were harder to abuse, and harder to rely on. Dear God, even the trees had stiff upper lips, each tree for himself. No wonder there were so few left, in comparison. Easier to pick off, just like men who had to stand alone, exposed to the world. Nothing wild left. At least these trees on the Camberly estate were doing their best to look old and impressive, as though they still held a little Old Magic somewhere, as forests should; and the same neutral sun that had made German trees seem otherworldly did its best to bathe these ones in the same golden light before night and all its dangers crept over the land. Before all the things the darkness held woke up and chased Rogers down again. This was why it was better not to stop and think about things at all. Doing that was why Roberts was here in this nowhere part of the country; stopping to think let all the devils in his mind loose. Stopping to think past sunset brought back the memories of that same indifferent golden light behind enemy lines heralding the end of the last day he could safely say he’d held on to his sanity.

In a way, Roberts was lucky. The doctors had hope he would find it again. He’d already been miraculously extracted from German territory and brought back to English shores, what was one more miracle of recovery on top of that? And they believed he was the delusional one. Like fuck was God handing out miracles these days. It hadn’t been a miracle that landed him here, and it wouldn’t be a miracle that declared him sane enough to be shipped back to Hell to face what was under those united German trees, basking in that uncaring sun that shone as if every part of the world was the same. As if every wretched creature under its light deserved such brightness. Perhaps the burning was the point, in which case - it did not burn hard enough to wipe the worst away. Yes, they were all full of folly and fools hopes, but at least they hadn’t shot him at dawn, as they had for his father’s generation. Some days, when the darkness was too much to overcome, he had to wonder if that wouldn’t have been less humiliating than being ferried from hospital to hospital until he’d been shunted to Camberly House in Briarwell with its God-forsaken forest crowned with God-forsaken summer sunlight. That was unfair, it wasn’t an unpleasant place, this old stately home turned hospital for men like him. It was one of those houses where the age of it steeped into the very air, and the evenings brought a chill that was apparently common in these places, though it was still more tolerable than the barracks had been. And it wasn’t in the same ugly shades of grey and green as most military establishments - painted to match the concrete they’d been rapidly built from. Apparently the owner - a Mr. Bronsfeld-something-or-other had wanted the money the ministry of defence had offered for the use, but fought like stink to keep the army from interfering too much, which made it no use for tactical headquarters. Ergo, better to use it to shunt the unwanted broken soldier toys until they glued themselves back together.

At least Roberts was offered a modicum of privacy and independence. Most of the house was accessible, and the nurses had planned extensive walks in the manicured grounds to help the men’s physical health. Roberts didn’t much care for that, honesty. To himself, he’d stay in his room with a good book borrowed from the library, but the collection here was older than he dared to imagine, and his clumsy fingers would only destroy them the way they destroyed everything they touched. And the nurses got concerned when he decided instead to simply stay in his room for too many days. He did not like doing that to them. The men at Briarwell Rehabilitation were meant not to need the lingering presence of a nurse at all hours - though all the men knew they were there, in case the devils won. As such, there weren’t many nurses here. Most had been shipped in, like the Matron, more formidable in the care of her patients than the strictest commanders back at base, or the sweet, but overwhelmed, Nurse Bridget. They did ask for local women to come and help, but Briarwell was small, barely more than a village, and most of its women were bussed away at dawn to work the munitions factories and workshops in nearby towns, only arriving home after dark most days themselves. Or they were busy with the care of the city-folk’s evacuated children. Busy, hardworking, upstanding people in a good, upstanding part of the country but it did not offer much to a man trying to run from his own mind. What Roberts wouldn’t give for some proper entertainment to serve as a good distraction. Maybe he could approach the Matron about it, a good show. It wouldn’t be the same as the ones back at camp had been; the barracks had been chaotic, and an unexpected torment, but every good superior knew not to let frustrated young men get too out of hand before they’d even seen the enemy and so they’d allowed shows. The gunners, especially, had known how to really make a good time. They’d known all the pretty local girls to come sing and dance, and had no qualms about joining the ladies too, standing on stage in frocks and wigs for the laughs. The men had liked the ladies, sure - but there’d been a gunner, Arthur Ryan, who’d looked particularly convincing in his show get-up, and oh, the freedom that had given him and Roberts for a time even though they’d both know it would never last. Ryan was dead now, had been almost a year. Roberts didn’t know specifics. Better that way, really.

Better not to think on any of this stuff at all, but goddamn, it crept in around the edges. No, it wasn’t that insidious, that sneaky. It was blatant and tangled and sharp, like the wild dog-roses that grew around this Camberly House, scaling the walls almost to the lead-lined roof, as thick and verdant and encompassing as the best German trees - a true feel of the old world about them, somehow. They were in bloom at the moment, soft pinks and whites against the red brick of the House and the greens of their own woody stems. Jesus, somehow, it always came back to the damned trees. He’d only been lamenting how little there was for broken soldiers to do. Then again, the poor bastards he shared this sentence with might learn about the world in a way the Matron deemed improper - using the soldiers’ health as a means to keep them imprisoned here. Letters, few and far between as they were, were scanned and censored before the soldiers got to read of their homes, or of friends and brothers shot down and dead, or captured, or locked away in camps. Listening to the wireless was strictly controlled; hells, Nurse Bridget had to fight her own fear of Matron to even risk smuggling the men newspapers, always at least a week old. Matron did not want news to hinder the recovery of her patients by upsetting delicate nerves, as though they were prone to hysteria and in need of nothing more than smelling salts and a fainting couch. Three months a guest of Camberly House and the only way Roberts knew the war continued outside of the old walls was the air raid siren in Briarwell at the bottom of the hill that necessitated the rapid march to the bomb shelter to sit with the women and children, and the home-service men too old, or wounded, to fight. This far from anywhere important, raids weren’t as common as elsewhere, so Roberts still felt the sting of humiliation sitting with the locals, and he kept his head down, afraid to meet the eyes of the people he’d signed up to protect, now giving up their precious space to protect him instead.

That judgement would have kept him from visiting the village anyway, regardless of Matron’s embargo, even though Roberts longed to stretch his legs in places where he wouldn’t always be watched as though he planned to run off and cause himself trouble - trusting him to be an adult about returning to his comfortable prison, army-quality beds and blankets aside. Unable to explain his failures, his weaknesses to the people of Briarwell he indulged this need by turning the only resource he had in spades; time, into a game of sorts - what places around this Camberly House could he find where Matron would never think to look? Today it had led him to the roof. The lock on a set of balconette doors had been easy to jimmy open with a hairpin one of the nurses had dropped, and the pin of his belt buckle, and from there he’d managed to pull himself up and into a little recess in the roof, a perfect sitting spot, with warm tiles at his back, and a view over the land, and most importantly, freedom. Roberts had hoped he’d find the chance to see further than ground level would have gifted him some clarity. Instead, he’d been met with nothing more than the uncaring sun casting its twilight across the world - some things inevitable and unchanging. And in that same spirit of inevitability, with the dying light came the memories forcing their way in to more than one mind in this strange little compound. From somewhere deep in the house, Roberts could hear one of the other inmates begin to scream again - Vickers, from the sounds of it, Pertleigh’s were usually higher in pitch and interspersed with pleas for his mother, poor lad. Both of them poor men, really. Vickers in particular was dreadfully afflicted with screaming terrors in the dark hours that lasted most of the night. Roberts and the others had begged Nurse Bridget to save the corks from wine bottles or anything that they might fashion into ear plugs, some had torn into their blankets for strips and scraps to stuff their ears with, or their mouths when they felt their own demons approach.

Roberts didn’t scream. Maybe it would be better if he did, less embarrassing somehow. He didn’t know the cause of Vicker’s nightmares, and the man would rarely speak of them when he was lucid and present but he had been getting worse these last few weeks and he often grew frustrated when it transpired that none of the other men could see the shadowy menace he claimed tormented him most often - always given with the most frightening description: a menace shaped like a man, but made of shadow and with no features a man should have, but with the trickery to borrow loved faces for a short time, and leaving Vickers with the unshakeable conviction that it was somehow waiting for him. Personally, Roberts wondered if such a conjuration of the mind were not the very things the men here were trying to avoid, yet left to manifest, festering and rotten, in the absence of reality - the media block-out perhaps doing worse for some of the men’s delicate nerves than the Matron would ever admit. “Ah, my apologies. I didn’t know someone was here.” Roberts almost lost his perch. It would be a long tumble down. The speaker was a man with long dark hair, tied back to keep it from his face almost as long to match who had half-clambered onto the roof from the balconette before he’d spotted Roberts. Clean shaven and in a shirt and waistcoat, the sleeves of the shirt rolled up to his elbows. No hat. He wasn’t one of the patients, and not a doctor with that languid demeanour and casual dress - no, not casual, those clothes were a quality Roberts hadn’t seen in a while, like a country gentleman playing at work. He had a book under his arm. Roberts had needed both hands, and knees, and wished for a second set to be sure he wouldn’t fall when he’d made his way to the recess, yet this man - thin as a reed now Roberts could see more of him - held no such fear. “No, it’s alright. I likely shouldn’t be up here.” The man continued to haul himself out and up close to Roberts - not that there any other option on this narrow ledge. “Why not? Are you planning to do something stupid?” “No! Good god, no. I just wished for some fresh air and gardens can feel… enclosed.” The stranger glanced at Roberts and then gave a small nod and leaned against the warm tiles, entirely at ease. He opened his book, but did not start reading. “Then please, take your ease and stay as long as you wish. I shan’t disturb you. It’s a beautiful sight, no?” Roberts nodded; it was, if one ignored the heavy tree-tops and the bright sun, and the ugly concrete block structures being built in Briarwell that sprawled itself across the ground at the foot of Camberly House, as if in worship of the land it held. Like a lover showing his willingness, waiting for attention.

The stranger turned to his book, and for a few moments, as the sun sank lower, gold turning crimson, Roberts was intimately aware of the space they both held. Both clearly wanting to be alone in the same place. “I know you,” Roberts said, more to drown out the sound of the birds calling in the approaching night than because he actually knew more of this man than a vague idea. A hermit unfit for service, he ran Camberly House as though he owned it while the actual owner resided mostly in London. He had little to do with the running of the hospital, and so their paths hadn’t much crossed before. Even the marches to the bomb shelter were only the patients and nurses, and any visiting doctors at the time, the hermit clearly making his own way down to the village. “Then I believe you have me at the disadvantage, sir,” the stranger said without looking up. “Roberts,” Roberts said. “Private Roberts.” “Well, it’s that personal, Private Roberts, I shan’t ask if you have a given name.” Roberts blinked. Then gave a short bark that was the closest he’d come to a laugh in a while. “Do you, sir?” The hermit looked up, and in the dying sunlight, Roberts noticed the depth of his eyes, so dark as to be black - infinity in a gaze. Roberts regretted asking, as though a thing as a name was an intrusion he had not earned the right to risk. “I thought you knew me, Private.” “I’ve seen you here and there, but I’ve never known your name.” The hermit put a long finger between the pages of his book, closing it, and held out his other hand. “David Loval, custodian of this fine house. It is a pleasure to meet you, Private.” “Aubrey,” Roberts said. He had almost forgotten it, as strange as that was to admit - but he had gone almost entirely from school to the army, neither place caring much for given names. Even Arthur Ryan had only ever called him Roberts. Sensibilities had replaced any sentimentality of his own name. It was nice to hear it out loud again. “A pleasure, Aubrey Roberts. It will be night soon if you wish to avoid trouble with that harridan of a Matron of yours on her pre-bed checks.” “I pity the poor fellow who ever calls Matron that in her hearing,” Roberts said. “Oh, I have, many times. She knows I mean it as a compliment, but that doesn’t make it any less true, and not every man wishes that attention on him, especially if he craves freedom.” It wasn’t subtle, the hermit clearly asking Roberts to concede this space on the roof as politely as he could. It sparked a rebellion in Roberts, a determination to deny the man’s request, for sounding as though Roberts was a child playing up at bedtime. But the hermit was right. If Matron learned of this little ledge she would barricade the balconette doors more thoroughly than any bunker, and the night was creeping in. If Roberts wanted the light, that meant inside.

He sucked his teeth. “I suppose it would be wise not to rile Matron.” “If you are going inside, may I trouble you for a favour, for Lance-Corporal Vickers? I would go myself, but in compromise with your Matron, she doesn’t turn Camberly into a drab medical unit, and I don’t wander her wards and clutter up the space or worse, put uncensored ideas in the heads of her patients.” The hermit stretched his legs out, long, they almost reached over the edge of the ledge. He reached into a pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small sprig of the wild dog roses that grew up the walls of the house. It even had a bloom and a bud on it. “But, it was me who convinced Alex - sorry, Mr. Bronsfeld-Yates - to offer Camberly as a house of healing and I regret that Lance-Corporal Vickers is struggling with that. It’s perhaps a tad trite, but perhaps when this latest fit passes, he might appreciate a token of growth and beauty in unexpected places. God, that is trite. It seemed a better idea earlier…” He began to tuck the rose back in his trousers. There was nothing trite about such a well intended symbol of perseverance, a little sign to say someone had seen you, someone knew, and someone cared - even from a distance. Roberts held out his hand, beckoning for the handover. “I’ll do my best,” he said as Loval hesitated, before letting Roberts take the rose - the thorns sharp and unforgiving, how the hermit had kept it un-crushed in his trousers without pain was a question for another time. “It can be hard to reach Vickers’ rooms when he’s in his way, the nurses don’t like gawpers, but I shall try.” “Thank you. They’ll accept gawping from a fellow patient more than they’ll accept me in their way. It’s refreshing at times, to have no responsibility over their decisions, but it does make it hard to help. And screaming tends to echo through the House." Mr. Loval was looking at his page again, but his eyes weren’t moving, and Roberts realised he had not yet turned a single page, and it seemed that the shadows crept in under his dark eyes, too. Yes, the screaming did echo through the house so. The bird song died down as the light faded and Roberts shivered in the drop in temperature, and the danger of memories surfacing in the cold night. “I should- I should go. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Loval.”

Roberts didn’t dare stand, not in this dimness, not this high up, so swapped dignity for safety as he scooted past on his knees and his arse, feeling the flame of humiliation as Loval simply curled his long legs up, making the way easier. “Will you not consider returning too? You can’t use a light to read outside during Blackout.” “It’s a full moon tonight, that is light enough for me, I assure you. I will not light anything that may put anyone here in danger." “You aren’t planning on doing something stupid, if I leave you alone here?” Roberts asked as he slipped back inside the house, legs in, head out. Mr. Loval just smiled. “I plan to read a most ridiculous book full of nonsense, by the light of a full moon. Many would call that stupid, but I don’t plan myself any harm save some mild eye strain.” “Oh. Well then. Goodnight, Mr. Loval.” “Goodnight, Aubrey.”

[thisfairytalegonebad]

*lying face-down on the floor* hello. i'm here to update you on my life.

after dropping out of my apprenticeship as a sales clerk i spent eight months looking for an apprenticeship in a different city and didn't find any,

looked for a job in that city, almost found one, then the whole move fell through,

then i got a letter from my insurance company asking for money, so i very quickly signed up with the temp agency that i was working for back when i was at university, but quickly got sick of working in factories,

so now i work at netto (do you have netto over there? it's like aldi a bit to the left),

but i'm also getting annoyed with that so i'm thinking about finding an apprenticeship or a duales studium in computer science. again.

oh, and i still live with my parents.

i hear you're going through it too?

Siiimon, my buddy, my pal, I've missed you <3 (I say, as though I had not been perfectly capable of reaching out to you myself... but you know how it is *joins you on the floor*)

I'm putting the rest under a read more because I got talkative and I don't wanna make everyone else read that

Man, I'm sorry things are still this shitty for you, you deserve way better than that. It sucks that everything costs money and that it's kind of necessary to get some form of education after finishing school or you'll be stuck at factories or dealing with customers.

But, judging from my own life, still living with the parents is easily the worst part of it, isn't it? And oh, how unfair is it that there is money required to get tf away from the parents, fuck if I can't relate.

If you're going for potentially an apprenticeship, what kinds have you been looking at? Anything in particular catch your eye?

We do not have Netto here, but I've heard of it before. We do have Aldi and Lidl, though, that's as far as German supermarket chains go here.

As for myself, well, I'm certainly going through it but not in a new or exciting way, just that some days are normal levels of shitty and some are pure dread wanting to stop existing kinda shitty, all the sorta things I hope will be fixed when I move out.

I was particularly dreading my bro finishing his military service (which is mandatory for men here, idk how it is for y'all folks over there) because he said he was going to move out once that was over, but then they liked him so much they made him stay another round (no joke, apparently they can just. Force you to stay) so he finally did finish at the start of November, but now he put off moving for the time being for various reasons and I'm so glad, I don't want him to be able to make a run for it whilst I'm still stuck here, and I particularly don't want to be stuck here with my parents alone.

So yeah the bro is staying, for now, and unfortunately so am I, but my apprenticeship is nearing its end, which means the problem of "what do I do with my life" is also coming closer once again, except now it's more along the lines of "where will I want to work and in what field". So far I liked the accounting department and the purchasing department, those are certainly options, and apparently boss man of the purchasing department (where I am right now) would like to keep me after finishing, which is certainly nice but I don't know if I want that yet, but it's also not an official thing yet, just something he apparently said to a coworker. But I think I'd also really like to work in IT somehow? Mostly because that's where the nerds are and I'd kind of really like some irl friends, and I like computers and stuff so yknow, IT sounds nice, definitely an option too. We'll see. Problem for future me, I guess.