#but not one that Moves. just one that is stagnant. BUT I WONT!!!!!!!

[moldwood]

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Am Forever Yours (part 1)

Day 1: Gentleman

Summary: Lucien is his gentlemanly self. Of course, not without being a rake.

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Word Count: 1111 (lmao)

Warnings: none, just lucy being a delulu girlie 🤭

A/n: lol it wont be like my if i posted stuff that arent series for character weeks loll. happy @lucienweekofficial to all my fellow lucien simps, i love you all hehe.

(also i wouldnt say he is very gentlemanly in his thoughts, but we all know he wouldnt be 😏)

anyways, ENJOY🥹

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lucien stood by himself against the wall nearest to the refreshment tables, quietly humming along to the rising tunes of the violins from the opposite corner, eyeing the couples twirling around the dance floor. If he cared, he would have opened a dancing class just to teach the men how to dance. If he were the one dancing with them, he would be so embarrassed.

The women though. They were the embodiment of grace, elegance and poise, so beautiful and twirling like they were born to conquer dance floors.

Alas, Lucien could not do anything to bring them justice except for cursing their partners.

With that depressing thought, Lucien moved away to set his empty glass on the table when someone bumped into him, jerking him forward and making the glass shatter as it hit the floor. Lucien looked at the broken glass, then turned away to look at the perpetrator who led to its demise, and did a double take.

Wide, frantic eyes moved to meet his after surveying the crime scene of the murdered glass, and blinked at him when he did nothing, as if she had expected to be yelled at and he had surprised her.

Her cheeks shimmered lightly under the lights emanating from the numerous chandeliers hanging from the carved ceiling, her shoulders pushed back and enhancing the look of her collar bones. Just the sight of those made Lucien swallow hard.

Who is this goddess?

While Lucien had been busy ogling the lady who clearly hailed from a high family clearly given away by her dressing, an older lady sharing the same hair and eyes appeared, glaring. "Y/n Jade, I cannot believe you would be so clumsy. Do you need to go back to school?"

Y/n?

Definitely moanable-

Fuck.

Pretty, Lucein told himself he meant to say pretty. Pretty name for a pretty lady.

The older lady turned to give Lucien an apologetic glance. "Forgive me, sir, for my daughter has begun to lose her mind." With a scathing glance at Y/n, she continued. "How are you enjoying the party? I haven’t seen you around much. Are you from this city?"

Lucien offered her a polite tilt of his lips. "Yes, though I prefer to travel. I work under my father as his emissary."

Lucien figured this lady did not know of his parentage, and he would love for it to remain that way.

"Oh, that’s wonderful."

Lucien could see the gears turning in the woman’s head, and he wished he had a glass of drink in his hands so he could hide his smirk behind the rim. Even not knowing that he was the youngest prince, everyone wanted their daughters to marry this fine specimen of a gentleman.

And why would they not, Lucien wondered. He was everything anyone could wish for, if just slightly cocky.

Not cocky. Just the slightest bit self assured.

"Well, I fear I must go hunt for my husband to make sure he isn’t making a fool out of himself. Y/n, why don’t you give your new friend some company while I search for your father?"

The lady, who by now was clear was Y/n’s mother, turned away and strode off, leaving Lucien to look at Y/n, who rolled her eyes. It amused Lucien to no end.

This was new.

"So… how old are you?" Lucien mumbled, trying to get rid of the stagnant silence between the two when it became clear that Y/n found the numerous chandeliers and the arguably bad dancers more intriguing than Lucien.

She only spared him a glance before turning her gaze towards the orchestra. "Twenty two."

"I’m twenty five."

She hummed in response.

"Your name is Y/n?"

Finally, she heaved an exasperated sigh and shot him an unamused look. "Yes, I would have assumed that was clear by now."

Lucien blinked. No one talked to him like that, even when he acted like he was one of the lowly townsfolk when he travelled to avoid attention.

"I- I’m Lucien."

"Did I ask?"

He stared at her a moment, eyes widening before dipping his head, fumbling for the first time in his life when talking to a lady. "I… I just thought-"

She snorted. "Stop thinking then."

He nodded dumbly, trying to focus on the strings of the instrument that was leading the song currently playing, the shine of his boot, the crunching glass under his toes, anything to stop himself from focusing on this lady who was thoroughly uninterested in him.

It made him want to interest her even more.

"You’re from which family?"

"Oak."

The favoured advisor of the king would be her father then.

"Y/n Jade Oak? That’s a pretty name."

"I know."

Lucien inhaled, deciding that if he wanted to get a reaction out of this ethereal creature who seemed to not know how to give any reaction other than unbothered, he would have to tell her something she wouldn’t expect. "I’m from the Vanserra’s. The king’s youngest son."

And as Lucien watched her, his eyes unwavering in hopes of catching even the tiniest bit of reaction, he almost nearly cried in joy when he spied her lips twitching at the corners.

"Look, I can do nothing about that. I’m not the one you should be complaining to. Maybe try your mother?"

It took Lucien a moment to comprehend those words, for he was too busy staring at her lips that still retained that slight tilt. And when he did, an unexpected laugh burst out of him. Once he finally got himself under control, he met her surprised eyes, and she blinked at him, as if him laughing was something that had not even crossed her mind.

"My, you’re funny." He grinned, shaking his head. "Are you by any chance engaged?"

She still watched him as she shook her head. "No. They usually decide they’re way too good for an uncultured lady like myself."

He raised a brow. "Well, as much as I want to give my condolences, I simply cannot say I’m sad for you, considering they have just made me courting you easier."

For the first time, Y/n’s composure faltered. "What?"

He offered her a lazy grin as he extended his hand to her, and after a moment of consideration, she placed hers in it. "I would like to court you. If that’s okay with you, I will like to talk to your father right away."

She searched his eyes, then dipped her head in the barest of nods. Lucien smiled, brushing his lips against her knuckles before he straightened.

"Then let’s go find your father, my lady."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @tele86

[yamiiwaii]

Do you have headcanons about macaque's recovering process from bpd and his copying skills (like about holding back extreme emotions or apathy, how does he regularly motivates himself to keep healing and so on)?

thats honestly a really good question...strap in, its a long one

macaque is definitely prone to bad spirals and bad episodes, as evident in the show, and he tends to internalize a lot of it and lash out in aggression. because of that i feel like starting the healing process was really hard for him. with lbd off his back and a lot more free time, im sure he thought alot about the things he did in the last few centuries. he probably stayed holed up in his dojo for a good while after the lbd stuff and just...thought. all that thinking led to spirals and breakdowns and he spent that time crying more than hes ever cried in his life. but afterwards i think he felt fine, stagnant even, and thats when he finally decided he could move on.

its hard giving up your fp and if hes anything like me im sure he didnt want to let go. he didnt want to break off those ties he had with wukong because those were familiar, safe. he fell back onto bad habits a lot, (i headcanon that he has s/h stims and he pulls on his fur when hes really stressed which adds to his bald spots), and found himself in spots where he felt the urge to go and fight wukong again, like before. during times like these his shadows are actually really helpful ! they help ground him and im sure rumble and savage help talk him through his breakdowns when theyre alone together. they help drive him to keep going, i think, because they know as well as he does that he needs this.

i think mk is another big motivator for macaque too, if not the biggest. he cares about mk so much, way more than he was ever expecting to, and i think he does hold some guilt and remorse about the way he treated mk. he wants to repair their relationship and actually become friends in the genuine way that mks friends with everyone else. and mac knows he cant get that if hes still holding onto the past, ya know. he wants to be someone mk could go to when wukong isn't available (he makes that...very very clear its honestly a little endearing) so i think he always thinks about mk while hes going through the process of healing.

and honestly, repairing his friendship with wukong could be something of a motivator too. he wants them to have something thats normal, im assuming, and maybe thats why he hangs around ffm still. but its also a little bit of a bittersweet memory of sorts, to see everything still as it was. to see bits of him still there.

with the holding back extreme emotions, macaque is the type to bottle everything up util he explodes. which isnt...healthy AJVKSKCJ i think overtime and mk exposure showed him its okay to feel those things...its okay to cry and to be upset and to just. be a person...obviously he only ever lets himself feel those things in the privacy of his dojo but hey, at least its something !

he does have set backs, as everyone does because healing isnt linear, and he still has days where its almost like hes back to being that hard-headed smartass trying to kill everyone...but i think now its a bit easier to deal with those days because he has a support system. he has people to rely on that wont shun him away, even if things are rocky between them all. but hes trying and he'll keep trying because as much as he lets it on, i dont think he actually enjoys being alone as much.

[marieabubb08]

Miss Manager

It all started with your aunt.

Your aunt has been a music producer for different artist for as long as you can remember.

By the time you graduated college, you were in desperate need for a job.

And your aunt heard about this and so she reached out to you about this important job.

“This one company I worked for before is debuting a new boy band and they are in desperate need of a manager. You can try to apply if you want.”

Now, your aunt told you the company was a bit small so the salary wont be too big

But you were desperate. After all, it was better than none and you needed the money fast.

And so you applied.

The interview was nervewracking but definitely not as challenging as you thought.

They asked you a few questions about yourself, your work ethic and other questions that really told them about your personality.

Just after a few days, you already received a call back from them anndddddddd…..

Surprise suprise

You got in! Congratulations!

The next day you met up with some staff who taught you the things you’re supposed to do.

Reviewing and reminding the boys about their schedules. Checking up on the events, stylists, their lessons. Scheduling their calendars. Talking to producers, event organizers etc etc

Needless to say, you are packed madam

But no worries. You are used to stress and you say yes to everything without no second thought.

After that brief showcase of your supposed job, the staff introduced you to the 5 boys.

Izuku Midoriya, the sweet, shy main vocal and leader of the group who proved to you that singing isnt just about belting because his voice serenaded you with how sweet, sincere and emotion-filled his singing was.

Shoto Todoroki, the cold and stoic song-writer, vocalist of the group who you thought would be pretty popular with the ladies once they debut because of his handsome face.

Katsuki Bakugo, the hot-headed producer, rapper of the group who was rather brash and looked to be rather stagnant in his work only for you to be surprised that he can play a few instruments and is the jack-of-all-trades of the group

Eijiro Kirishima, the talkative and bubbly singer, dancer who may seem clumsy with some normal things but when it comes to performing, shows why he was chosen for the group. His passion shines through making him very ‘manly’ in your eyes.

And finally, Denki Kaminari. The flirty main dancer of the group who can move his body incredibly fluidly and flawlessly as if bending your back towards the ground while doing a split was as easy as walking.

Now everyone was very polite and welcoming to you (even Bakugo no matter how ummm…unpolite he was) telling you that if you needed help they will gladly help.

But you shook your head, telling them to focus on themselves and their performance on stage and you’ll worry about everything that happens behind and before the stage.

A few months before the debut date, you had approached all the members individually asking them on what theme they want for the structures of their sound and message to look and sound like.

And that interview brought you a lot closer to these boys as they talked to you about their ideas, personal experiences and personalities.

Izuku told you that he wished their message would integrate that of never giving up hope and to always looking at the beautiful things in life rather than looking at what things you dont have.

A lesson that he had learned growing up from being always bullied about alot of things. His appearance, his life etc. And he wanted everyone especially the youth to feel like he knows how it feels to be alone and to feel like the world is against you.

But looking at the things he loved and he had like music, performing, his friends and his mom made him realise that all his wishes were just his wants and all his needs are already given to him.

Katsuki wanted to intertwine the main idea Izuku gave with adding the lesson he learned from his now band leader.

The lesson of the power of compassion and empathy. He was a prodigy in everything he did and so he felt cocky about it and almost like he was ontop of the world and everyone was just below him.

He even told you that he was one of the people who bullied Izuku but changed his ways once he realized how empty he felt even with all the glory.

Feeling something towards others made him feel more whole and important to the world and he wanted to teach everybody who was and still an asshole just like him that it is better to care than not caring about anything rather than yourself.

Shoto wanted to integrate the journey of the long road of unbias acknowledgement and acceptance of oneself.

He was a victim of parental abuse from his father that left him and his whole family scarred.

His mom especially, was damaged to the point where she became insane and detested anything and anyone who reminds her anything related to his father.

And him, getting some attributes from his father made him hate those parts believing them to be a curse, something monstrous like his father.

But once he learned how to accept that those parts arent Enji Todoroki but rather fully him, Shoto Todoroki was he able to let go of all the hate towards himself and his isolation from others.

And now that his father is trying to redeem himself from his past mistakes, he is no learning not to forgive yet, but to acknowledge that his father is trying without the bias of just chalking his father up to be just bad.

He knows that the world is morally gray, and so is his father whom he is now trying to erase the view of him just being the devil himself with a black, inked heart but rather a man realising the large doom he put onhis family cause of his mistakes.

And thats what he wants to share to the world. You dont have to forgive someone, but you need to forgive yourself if you want to move forward in life. Just because you remember a trait as something evil doesnt mean it is because like he said, the world is morally gray and so wait befor you judge.

Eijiro wanted to add the sense of positivity and being brave.

Being brave doesnt mean having no fears but rather fearing something but still facing it.

Its what makes a person so manly as he says.

And so many people bring down themselves just cause of the misconception of bravery.

They let their minds pick up on their flaws so much that even strengths will be considered as a flaw just because them or society doesnt like it.

And so he wants everyone to feel as positive about themselves as possible because you cannot be brave about external forces when you hide and run away from your internal insecurities and fears.

Denki, being last that you asked found out about each and everyones ideas and suggested only one thing. A story.

If its a love story, a self-ove one, a story of that of a hero, etc etc.

What he wants is something that would start as flawed just like he was when he started training in this company.

But he wants that one day if this band does seperate, he can look back on it and tell himself.

'This was my-no our story on how we recognised who we are, our strengths and weaknesses. This is our character development, the era where we improved our flaws and make our goods as excellent as possible. And I think we did it correctly.’

And hoped that maybe the future generations who’ll find their music, if they were lucky enough, would find this story and tell themselves that its never to late to start the journey they went through.

All of these made you cry small droplets of tears.

Each went through alot of things that may seem shallow but is actually so rooted and deep once you dig deep enough.

But you notice one motif of their ideas: The want to help, teach and reach out to everybody.

Your mind brightened as you ran to the office to suggest them an idea that popped in your mind.

“Why not call their group name: Hero? It fits with their whole theme and wants for their careers.”

Needless to say the boys, the staff and some higher ups liked it and decided to stick with that.

And so the day they debuted came and you were amazed with their talents when ir came to acting on the music video (just as you though their talents were just in performing, you were wrong they were excellent actors as well)

The song ended up becoming well. The views werent that bad and they were earning a few fans here and there.

You thought it would be the best to let them perform on a small scale and schedule those on small auditoriums(?) with the maximum of a hundred people with only 2 performance a week.

Well your mind slowly started to change about that decision when you saw them practice their song at 1 in the morning. All of them drenched in their sweat but they all enthusiastically agreed when Izuku asked for another rundown.

They reminded themselves of the promise they all told each other:

“Even if thousands, hundreds or even one person came to see us, we’ll still perform like its our last.”

And they definitely did.

Ome of their first performances infront of the public only had less than a hundred but they all performed like they’ll die if they did not give a 110% of their power

You can bet that after that one performance, all 60 people who came to watch their performance were in awe and some even at the state of open mouthed shock because of how charismatic and mindblowing everything was.

You were also in big awe. You were used to watching some performances by other artists that were more well known.

But this. They were spectacular even if there were no special effects or fireworks, no nothing. Just the passion, talent and hardwork of these boys.

After the stage, the 5 approached you, before bowing their heads as low as they can. Thanking you for your hardwork on setting up a stage where they can perform like they have always dreamed of.

But you also bowed your head, but this time in apology.

You admitted that you had indeed doubted their skills. But with just this one performance, you were convinced that they could do so much better and alot of people deserved to see their love of performing.

You promised that from that point onward, you will do more than your best and not doubt them because they are clearly using everything they have.

So what is holding you back from doing the same.

This turned out to be longer than I thought oml-

Part two coming soon (probs today cause I dont wanna listen to my online class-)

[hollowsoul12]

Anywho, on to a less happy post that I've been wanting to make, yet was unable to make due to personal OCD reasons, I'm going to talk about the bright contraversity, but more specifically how poorly the tumblr side of the community has handled and how separating art from artist is tricky in this situation. (Now just like most of the bright post this will be getting into it, this post contains mentions of serious and horrible sexual topics relating to AdminBright. If you are a bright system you should go into this post with caution, as I won't be kind of AdminBrights creations in the slightest. Also you should check out Daisy Adia's document on her previous relationship with AdminBright regardless of whether you read this post or not)

So, most of you have probably already know of the basic gist of the situation, but if you have not been checking the scp tumblr tag for a while or dont even know what a AdminBright i, let me just catch you up to speed: Recently the contraversity of AdminBright (or Theduckman), the creator of Dr. Bright, Brights family, and handful of other SCPs as well as being a previous staff member for the wiki before he was banned, after "the list of things Dr. Bright is not allowed to do at the foundation" was temporarily deleted by a leaving staff member without telling the rest staff. The reason this article specifically was targeted was because AdminBright is a known s*x pest that s*xually and emotionally manipulated/ab*sed multiple people and, due to the list being the most egregious interpretation of his self insert on the wiki (as the list portrayed him as a womanizer and pervert), its been one that held the most hatred in the on-site community. Unfortunately, due to the licensing and previous scp wiki rules, the article has been brought back and has gained protected status due to its unprompted deletion. This one action, however, has lit a new spark of hope of getting rid bright from the site, as the list was the biggest stop sign in peoples hope of getting rid of him and with its deletion it weakened that obstacle. Now people on both the off-site and on-site community have been going about protesting and rewriting articles surrounding bright from changing his name and creating a new character to less than subtle frustration of allowing the bright list back. Meanwhile their is many others that are simply trying to figure out with what to do next. 

This latter group, however, is where the problem's mentioned in the beginning have started to occur. You see, the tumblr side of the community, as well as many other parts of the off-site community, have (and I try to put this is the nicest way possible) been stagnant in relation to scp, but tumblr in particular has been extremely stagnant. What I mean in this case is that unless its about a scp that's over 1000+ upvotes or is character/group that got a cult following during series 1-3 (alagadda, nalka/sarkics, the doctors of the foundation). it wont get discussed and even then the stuff discussed isn't looked at from a meta/real life angle. It is also due to this extreme stagnation that now that this situation about bright has once again resurfaced, it has been a mixed about the idea of getting rid of or even replacing bright. Some have decided to cut ties with bright, but a very vocal group of people on here have decided to basically dig their heals in here and even started to deflect the anger towards people trying to replace him like DJ Kaktus.

Now, I've tried my best to keep calm try to figure out a way to reach a certain middle ground with this situation, as I know their is a lot people that kin bright are generally normal/good people, and tried to figure out a ultimatum, but you know what I'm just gonna say my truthful opinion:

If you are a bright fan or any SCP fan for that matter and actually care about being against Theduckman, THEN JUST FUCKING MOVE ON FROM HIS SHITTY FETISH INSERT AND HIS INSERTS ABLEIST CODED FAMILY!!!

"BUT HE ISN'T A SELF INSERT ANYMORE, THE COMMUNITY HAS RECLAIMED HIM." Dr. Bright has been constantly used as a stand in for his creators sick fantasies, not just on the SCP wiki, but also in sexual roleplay. Dr. Bright, the character, was used by Theduckman to take advantage of people. Dr. Bright, the character, is reason Theduckman got to the position of admin and was able to take advantage of people. Hell, Brights amulet and his ability to swap bodies ican literally tie directly back to Theduckmans branding fetish Even after he got banned, he actively encouraged people to keep using his characters! Most in not all active on-site authors know of Theduckmans past, and guess what, THEY WANT HIM GONE. Their also victims of Theduckman that want him gone. The only reason why people seem to have "separated" bright from Theduckman is because of the disconnect between the off-site and on-site communities, but I guarantee if many people actually knew the situation, more people would not be supporting keeping him around.

"BUT DR. BRIGHT AND HIS FAMILY ARE IMPORTANT TO THE SCP LORE" Dr. Bright and his family have not, is not, and will never be important to the lore of SCP because THEIR IS NO CANNON. Their entire storylines where Bright doesn't exist, hell their is multiple timelines where the foundation does not exist. And even if their was one overarching lore, bright and his family barley play a role in modern scp or are just their for name recognition. 

"BUT CHANGING BRIGHTS NAME DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING, WHY WOULD EVEN CHANGE THE NAME BUT KEEP THE CHARACTER THE SAME" BECAUSE OF BRIGHT FANS THAT DON"T WANT LET HIM DIE! STUFF LIKE SHAW ONLY EXSIST BECAUSE WON"T FUCKING LET BRIGHT DIE!

*Ahem* So, yeah, thats my opinion. Truthfully I know that its impossible to actually get rid of Bright and truthfully that not every single person thinks the same way about Bright as I do. In truth, this post is NOT meant to hat on people that like Bright but rather is meant show how fucked up Bright as a character is and how his existence in this fandoms needs to change. And in truth that change appears to be finally happening with the list being temporarily deleted. I hope that one day we finally can leave bright as a memory, but till that day we just have to stick to rewrites

[boundless-n-bare]

celebrate

i am trying hard, friends. life has been rough and i am (yet again) in a transitional period in life. just took down all the decorations in my room, my walls are now bare, and though my inclination is to feel sad i am forcing myself to see the positive in this, that being that today is the first day of the rest of my life - i have no idea where im headed but i know it aint here. i am ready to throw everything in my truck and jet at a moments notice, im just waiting for the oppurtunity. and you know what, leaving things behind is never easy but sometimes its absolutely necessary and this is one of those times. my surroundings no longer suit me, they're bringing me down hard. i dont know where i will end up next. i know where i want to be but i also know that its in the universe's hands and she dont give a fuck what i want so im detaching myself from that for now. all i know is that i wont waste time being down because i have a life to start living! and i am so excited for that! regardless of my physical surroundings, i am excited that now more than ever i have a clearer idea of who i am and who i want to be than i ever have. i have come to terms with myself as an individual in ways that i hadn't previously been allowing myself to do and i am excited to continue that journey. its hard, its complicated, its complex, its messy, and a lot of time it sucks but also i am starting to feel alive again, and that is the feeling i want to celebrate - i have felt stagnant, isolated, lonely, and without purpose, drive, or motivation for so long it felt like i might as well have not been existing at all. and although i went from having very little to do to having everything to do in a very short period of time, i know i will persevere and i know that through the sress, discomfort, and pain i will emerge on the other side to experience calm, softness, and pleasure. once again, as i did years ago when i first moved to this town, in leaving i will feel alive. and that, as well as everything that follows, is worth celebrating

have some fun news coming soon, hopefully later today. just gotta tie up some loose ends!

[my-journey-to-recovery]

11 days until detox!

Yesterday was such a positive day!

It started with a bit of alone time in the garden. I read the book 'My Sheep Hear my Voice' with a coffee and it was so peaceful. I asked God to help me to trust Him fully. To help me have faith that everything that's happening is for the greater good.

Then we had a picnic at the hostel organised by staff. I helped put the tables and chairs out and enjoyed serving in this way. I need to remember this when it comes to my sobriety - get involved with helping others to keep busy and help myself. A bunch of us ate together; two coke heads, two crack heads and a heroin user. We played games; egg and spoon race (which I won), pass the parcel (which the staff made sure we all won a prize), tennis and hopscotch. The sun was shining, we had music playing and it was just such a lovely vibe.

Of course I had a bag of coke for the day but I was sensible with it and made it last. Then spent some time with S and J, smoking weed and I did S a tarot card reading. She said it really resonated with her to the point she started crying. It's funny how God/Universe bring people into your life when you least expect it. I never thought I'd become good friends with a 'crack head' but do you know what - our habits don't define who we are as human beings. Everyone has a story to tell, a journey in which they've ended up on the wrong side of the track at some point and now I feel like everyone that's here is on a journey to better themselves and their lives - some will make it, you can tell who they are. The ones that still have that fire in their belly and some sadly wont. You can tell those ones too, which is sad. I hope I'm one of the ones who make it.

This place was so hard to be when I first moved in. But I've really grown to love some of the residents and staff and will miss them all. Miss it all.. the freedom of taking drugs/drinking whenever I want, all of it. But I also know that if I don't move then I will get stagnant, as my alcoholic neighbour says.

I just have to trust God that this move is the way forward for me and prepare to be ready to leave all this behind.

[stuckinapril]

how do you be hopeful about the future? im trying my best to move forward with my life, but depression is really making it seem like theres no point to it. i know that a new job, moving, more money, etc wont relieve the feeling i have because its something i need to address within me, but it just feels like then whats the point of doing any of that at all if it wont change anything. the new years coming and i cant find a way to be excited about what it might bring

who said any of that wouldn’t change anything? it very well could. maybe you’re profoundly unhappy at your current job, or your friends aren’t all that supportive or kind, or you’re tired of the city you’re currently living in. obviously all of that could also be untrue—i don’t know what your exact situation is—but the point is there are countless options for alleviating the sadness that’s currently plaguing you.

i wouldn’t tell you your main problem is that you no longer have options, but rather that you have a defeatist attitude about it. half of the battle of doing literally anything isn’t actually doing it, but believing you could. if you continue to believe nothing will change anything, you’ll stay stagnant. but if you give yourself the permission to be hopeful, you’ll act on that hope. & your actions will result in the change that you desire.

it’s a simple fact that things can change. there are too many people out there for it to be possible that no one would love you. there are too many opportunities out there for it to be plausible that no one would take you in. it’s just objectively untrue that there’s nothing left to be done. but if you never let go of the belief that it’s game over for you, you’ll never even give yourself a chance to prove otherwise.

it starts with gratitude. with appreciating the little things you do currently have. and then it gets better and better with every intentional move you make, to improve whatever situation you’re in: whether it be financial, environmental, or mental. maybe for you that looks like seeking professional help. depression is a fucking beast, but it doesn’t have to define you. it’s something many people struggle with every day. nonetheless, some of the most helpful, strong people i’ve ever met have mental issues. it can get better. it can absolutely get better. now more than ever, on the precipice of a new year, is the time to do some inner work and reflect on what would truly make you happy in this world. once you’ve figured out what happiness looks like for you, chase that w everything you have. and never, ever give up.

[trinidaddy88]

Cw feeling sorry for myself lol

I wish i was normal. I wish my brain fucking worked in a way where i could keep a job and not have a job i hate be so impossible to do bc i hate it and avoid it by calling out and going to the bathroom and my car which leads to be being written up and fired.

I wish i was better at school and less fucking depressed and did internships bc maybe then i would have been working in the animation industry instead of being an on and off stagnant artist who quit drawing and returned being even worse of an artist than how i was in college when i had hope and dreams. I hate my life right now. I hate it so much.

I hate living with my emotionally abusive and manipulative family, i hate my job and i certainly dont get paid enough to move out and every job interview i have ends in failure with no one calling me back. I just hate everything and nothing feels like its possible to change lol. And im in debt????? Fuck.

This job and career field is the most soul fucking job to have and i have no other skill sets that wont put me back in retail if i try another career lol.

[mushrooms-at-ikea]

I haven't done one of these in a while...

Right now I am 24. I'm 3 months away from 25. I've never had a credit card. I've never owned a car. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with my life.

The problem isn't that I don't have goals or aspirations, but rather that I've just never been able to achieve them. I've put effort into doing the things I need to accomplish something in my life, and yet for some reason there's a mental roadblock always in my way, preventing me from getting to the finish line. I've made a habit out of giving up on myself.

I think it's caused by PDD, something I was diagnosed with 4 years ago but never really had any help for. It would explain why I haven't been able to pick up a pencil and draw the first thing that comes to my mind. It would explain why playing video games doesn't fulfill me the way it used to when I was a kid. I feel like I'm constantly chasing a sense of normalcy that I haven't felt in years.

Recently I moved to another country to be with my lover, hoping that the change of scenery would allow me the ability to reset myself and get the gears rolling again but they've been anything but. I feel the motor is running but the gears have been jammed for decades and there is not enough WD-40 in the world that is going to lube them enough to spin. It's incredibly frustrating and discouraging to have to push myself so hard to just feel like a person. It's unfair to me and especially my lover, who has never deserved anything less than a functional spouse capable of contributing an equal amount of effort every day. I just hope that I can one day show her that she's worth every ounce of effort I have even when I feel like it'll never be enough.

I've been stagnant from years of avoiding making decisions about the direction of my life. My first idea was to become a graphic designer, something I have experience doing, but no traditional education for. I rely on my performance and portfolios to prove my worth. I know I could put in so much more and be successful but I have some weird fear of going forward. Like once I start I wont be able to stop. I know that's unrealistic and that if I wanted to change the trajectory I could always do that whenever I wanted, but for once I just wish I could be sure about something.

Lately I've been thinking about becoming an Architect. I wonder how long it would take me to get a degree for it. I think about how much money it would make me to become one. I wonder how expensive it would be to go to school for it and if I'd get that money back. I worry about how broke I've been my whole life. I worry about how I struggle with money all the time and how I've never really been all that responsible with it. I hope that I can figure this all out soon.

[i-hope-no-one-finds-this]

The air is stagnant with desert heat that covers my thighs with sweat as I sit on the leather-bound chair. I contemplate if i am showing too much emotional distress or not enough. Should I keep eye contact for this long? He would get even more distraught if he thought i was not taking this conversation seriously, im not. He sits comfortably in his own chair, 5 feet in front of me. I think this is the most he has said to me in over three months and its a lecture, of course it is. “It hurts that you just have that emotion of ‘i-dont-give-a-fuck-especially-to-my-dad everytime I see you.’” Hmm, its because after the emotional trauma you have put me through I really can’t afford to spare any more mental room for your nonsense anymore. “Who do i live for?” Yourself. “Me.” i say. “Uh-huh. And have you ever wanted anything? Do people look at you and go shes poor as fuck? No, they havent. I am poor as fuck, i am so poor and i do it all so that you can have the nicest things, your car, your phone, your shoes…” You can take them all back if you want, wont change anything. “I just want you to admit what you did was fucked up and apologize, you knew that we had been talking about this, yet you still just dont give a fuck about my emotions or how it would effect me at all.” Oh, I have to respond fast here. “Honestly i am sorry dad, i really did not think this was that important to you. I knew you wanted to get one together, i just didn't realize it had to be my first one.” “Baby why would I not want it to be the first one?” Baby, thats a good sign. I really wonder if he thinks that i hate him, as a person i do, as family I just want him to be good to my mom and I, not treat us each like shit. A memory of a video of a girl describing how she leaves her boyfriends after a single argument because she is used to being let down by her father who will not change pops into my head. Huh, i guess he really has messed me up. Ladies choose your men right, dont let just anyone hit cause youre not only condemning yourself but also your child of a world of hell. I am a bad daughter, ill admit it at least. Better than claiming i deserve the best dad of the year i suppose. 

Statistically speaking, about 45% of American households are separated, and of all marriages in the country, about 17% of them are truly happy. Unluckily for my household, we are part of that 45 and 83 percent. My parents separated long before I can ever remember however, I vividly remember when they wanted to spend time all together seeing as they had a pretty good friendship and both shared a deep desire to spend more time with their one and only child, me. For a year and a half during high school, my parents decided to move into a house together as friends and roommates so that they both can have quality time with me while I still lived under the same roof as them till college. This friendly agreement was soon to be a terrible mistake that gave off the impression that I was living in a continuously breaking family. Imagine having to go to school early in the morning yet you can’t fall asleep because of the arguing going on apparently right outside your door. Imagine feeling guilty because you're the only reason both parents decided to do this in the first place, and now they have nowhere to go but to their pits of despair they call home. The repercussions of what was said after an especially bad argument would usually be days of silent treatment and lingering resentment clinging to the house walls. My only escape was school so when I dove into homework as soon as I got home, it would be confused as responsible indulgence, when the truth was I didn’t want to witness the confrontation my parents had with one another when they would return home from their day jobs. The house, however small it was, resembles an extremely hard time in my life, where I was consumed daily with self-destructing thoughts of why my parents argued daily, why I usually caught the backlashes of their disagreements when they would ask me if I agreed or not. That year, I finished having one of the highest GPAs I think I've had, ever. The continued hard work I put into studying and doing homework in order to get rid of my constant sadness and guilt had propelled me to set new highs for me in school.

[diomedrian]

Everyone is moving forward everyone is moving forward and I took four very big steps back aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[liinos]

.

[separatist-apologist]

Have you ever said why you don't like From Blood and Ash? I thought most people liked that book. Was it just the newest book that put you off them?

I don't think I ever have, actually. Maybe once, when I answered a "fandom calm down" thing, but not like, my personal problems with it. I have the first three books but I quit after book two. This was right when I was getting back into reading for fun and not academia. My friend who suggested ACOTAR was like, if you liked those books, try FBAA. I trusted her and bought the first three so I didn't have to wait on them like I did for ACOSF.

The first book is...okay. It's interesting enough but the premise of very sheltered teenager who is a badass assassin is always annoying to me, it's why I think TOG also was hard for me. The problem is that the authors tell you "she is the best" and then when they show you, she's actually REALLY bad. Poppy wasn't AWFUL but her experience makes no sense considering she never had any practice until the book starts, and theoretical killing and real life killing are different? Also if Hawke kept catching her, you're telling me no one else did?

To be very honest, I was willing to overlook some of my main criticisms of the book (the cringy dialogue, repetition, and bad editing) because the story IS interesting. It moves, for the most part. Only a few middle places were really stagnant and I chalked that up to first book world-building syndrome.

But BOOK TWO was a SLOG it was so awful. The world building was out of control at that point, the constant "Why?" "Poppy with a question" jokes got old like, the third time it happened. There is just NOTHING happening for like, 300-400 pages that at some parts I was just skimming to get through it. Everything interesting happens in the last 50 pages and the build up is wonky or non-existent. JLA isn't interested in creating ACTUAL tension so she resolves it with a snap of her fingers and then creates more instead of teasing out her more interesting plot narratives. The pretend "will they/wont they" with Casteel and Poppy was the worst, though. I hated that so much. It made no sense and wasn't believable and instead of them working on their relationship its just snap "we're together now after I said we wouldn't be".

And all the old problems, of course (bad editing, cringy dialogue, repetition). I'm a big believer that reading should be fun and if books are boring/bad, stop reading them. You'll never catch me doing a hate read. I have the third book on my shelf but I've never read it and I never will. And seeing the blow up on book 4 was kind of validating because FINALLY people were admitting that these books are way overhyped for what they are, they're badly written, the world building is so big and complex the author cannot keep track of it and instead of fleshing any of it out she just adds more and more as it suits her. I don't think they ever should have been more than three books. Whatever is happening now could probably all exist in three tightly written books.

And obviously if you like them, you're allowed to. I'm not saying anything about the people reading them. I like plenty of trash nonsense (ask me about the reverse harem monster books I can't put down, like I am no stranger to badly written smut books). I think my issue is that they get treated as if they ARE really well done and the people who don't like them are just haters of popular fiction.

[cerastes]

Drimo, what IS the Centipede VTuber lore? Reveal it... Reveal it!

I was waiting to have an overlay and a few other things ready before dropping it, but you know what, Centipede VTuber lore, here it is.

--

The first step is posture.

The second step, strong eye contact.

And the third? You guessed it: A signature move that can annihilate them in a split second.

If you ask anybody, it is clear as morning dew that these are the building blocks to make a good first impression at a job interview. But see, a good and lasting first impression is not essential only to land that job or snatch that internship, it is fundamental for a variety of things, like marriage, seminars, and dungeon keeping.

And it is that solitary shining element in a bucket of otherwise drab boring everythings that matters here. But, ah, let us not get ahead of ourselves, yes? In media res is delightful, but today, this humble narrator wishes to relinquish unto you, without mirrors and smoke but definitely with bells and whistles, The Story of the Centipede of Want.

Once upon a time, within the ruined walls of a famously affluent cathedral’s brick and silver walls, there lived the Centipede, as he was known back then. As attentive ace detectives among readers might be able to discern, the Centipede was a centipede, long and eerie, body of man and beast alike everywhere it mattered, famished for as much sustenance as his forcipules could catch first, and as many things that he could get his numerous hands on a very close second. Warm in winter and cool in summer, the ruined cathedral was a comfortable place to live in, where a spring feast on autumn was common occurrence for the Centipede. Insects, such as scavengers and looters, from hereon morsels, habitually wandered in, looking for the old relics of silver and amethyst ripe for plundering in the ruins of the withered house of worship, becoming sustenance for its longest-lived predator, the four-armed, hundred-legged menace that prowled its once decadent halls, filled with the stagnant air of the hunt. Truth be told, the cathedral had long been looted for most of its relics and arcane implements, its silver goblets and amethyst utensils of all sizes and shapes, so the only ones that wandered in were fools and lesser beasts looking for refuge. It was a peaceful, easy life for the Centipede.

But at the same time, something like throbbing roots thrashed in the back of the Centipede’s head, something that tasted of cyan and grey and had no name, as far as the menace knew. Initially, it was merely a light jostle, but as time passed, the thrashing intensified like a landslide, eating away at his every thought, crunching harder and louder than his mandibles did the carapaces and cheap iron armor of the unfortunate interlopers caught in his granite and silver hunting grounds:

Complacence.

Cyan and grey and rancid and bitter. The Centipede’s mind was impregnated by throbbing unease, its quaking manic, its incisors sharp, its vice grip tight. During the day, it was common for the Centipede to mock the bishop and the priests of the once opulent church, begging day after day for tithe and tribute, only to feast behind closed doors of oak and silver. And yet, he himself was much the same: Preying on weak interlopers during the day, pretending to be a grandiose warlord among what little silver and amethyst decadence was left in the ruins during the night, devoid of any real strength and riches he could call his own.

In his ideal world, for each leg he had, he’d wear a different, uniquely etched and engraved silver band. In three hands, he’d hold silver goblets filled with the world’s finest wine, mead, and rum, aged in mahogany casks, with touches of juniper berries, and on his last hand, he’d hold an oversized goat leg, from which he’d munch on in between rounds of ambrosia. Ah, to be the Centipede! Or rather, the powerful entity in his wildest dreams!

Realization is the sharpest blade of them all. No matter how much you temper your carapace, that which is crafted from denial can’t ever hope to stop such a spearhead. Thus, the Centipede came upon an epiphany: He simply had to get that which he desired with his own hands, and that cyan and grey pulsating cluster of fangs would be gone! And so, he got to work: He’d go to one of the silver mines the town was famous for and become its biggest, meanest threat! The head honcho of harm! The throbbing titan of threat! The punishing pimple of pain! The alliterative administrator of annihilation! Oh, with mandible and might, he’d deliver the most poignant of Rectal Ragnaroks and Colon Crucifixions to any who’d dare wander into his domain!

He’d be the most feared Boss Fight of all!

The Centipede rushed out of the church, his two rows of endless legs clacking a demented tarantella as he headed right towards the hill, his putrid eyes fixed on the silver mine. It was time to begin his reign of rambunctious terror!

Or so was the plan. The plan that was supposed to work. Do you think the plan worked?

It didn’t. It really, really didn’t.

To say the Centipede feasted upon manure would be an understatement. Here’s some statements from adventurers that fought him:

“There’s definitely the intimidating factor of something with more legs than a ballroom, but his moveset was predictable. Kinda easy experience and silver, not gonna lie.” -- Anonymous Rogue, Adept Adventurer.

“Well, how to say this... His boss music could use some work, and only two life bars? I just got done fighting something with four phases, so this was... Well, anyways, at least he dropped a nice skill book.” -- Anonymous Mage, Adept Adventurer.

“I cheesed the dumbass with 100% physical damage resistance because he doesn’t have any elemental damage, lmao get bopped idiot, I kept using my overhead helmsplitter and he kept crouching and blocking in panic, you love to see it.” -- Anonymous Samurai, Adept Adventurer.

“He’s kind of a Stage 3 boss, nothing special, he’ll never make it big.” -- Anonymous White Mage, Adept Adventurer.

“mfer wont drop the damn skill book whats the drop rate on that shit i bet the skill sucks anyways, ive kicked his ass like 14 times now orz” -- Anonymous Warrior, Novice Adventurer.

Alas, it turns out that outside his domain of brick and silver, the Centipede wasn’t so big and mean, after all.

And that’s where most stories end: The monster gets conquered by adventurers, and everyone learns how to cheese it. A nice The End in fancy font then drops in front of you and you go to bed.

But you’re not going to bed today, shitlips.

Because this story is not over.

No.

He wasn’t going to take it.

He didn’t have to take it.

The Centipede rose back to its many feet and decided that he’d start from square one: He’d learn what makes a good boss fight no matter what! Then and there, the Centipede vowed to accrue a staggering amount of health bars, to have as many phases as he had legs, to have a moveset so diverse and foul that adventurers would get acid reflux merely by hearing about the shocking amount of tricky delays and annoying status effects his attacks entailed, to have the single most facemelting ultrabanger of a boss theme, and to never, ever again crouch against an overhead.

That day, the Centipede became The Centipede of Want, and what is it that he want? To be the biggest, meanest Final Boss ever!

...But that requires training! A lot of it! How did he decide to go at it? Why, by streaming a veritable variety of video games, of course! By learning from the boss fights of a deluge of games, he’d be able to craft new strategies most rancid and concoct novel attacks most putrid. Plus, what a better way to learn of the adventurers’ way of fighting than by being the adventurers in games? Not to mention that he could naturally engage with humans in conversation and have them unwittingly reveal their weaknesses to him! It was genius! The Centipede of Want headed to the cathedral’s ruins one last time, grabbed every last piece of silver and amethyst not yet plundered in there, and traded it for a streaming set-up in town. Using the last of the silver, he fashioned a mask for himself to signify that he was done being the complacent bully that roamed the walls of that decadent cathedral.

It was time to begin training.

He’d feast on weaklings no more.

He’d eat gods from now on. He’d seek adversity. He’d seek strength.

And the rest would naturally follow.

[we-always-hit-our-ass]

Heyyyy uh I love your stuff and I had an idea that wont let me sleep 😂 What if like the reader was mia or something and everyone was really upset and nervous and cobb kept saying how you were dead until doc roe just has enough of his bullshit and just punches him. (Feel free to change the character i just thought doc losing his composure was an interesting concept) bonus points for romantic connection? Im sorry if this is horrible im vry vry tired

Taglist: @radiantcade, @deldontplay, @thatsonefishyboi, @noneofurbusinez, @meteora-fc, @hufflepuffpancakes

yo i can totally get why this idea wouldn’t let u sleep. its because its damn good-  

lovely anon, this one is for you ;))))

also italic means past events-

words: 2.8k words (aww srry if its shorter than my other fics)

warnings: some violence, cursing, ANGST and sadly no resolved or happy ending :’((((

btw thank u @radiantcade for tellin me to make a taglist, major kudos to u ma’am. btw if you want to be added just hmu, no worries ;)))

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (Eugene Roe x Reader)

---------------------

---------------------

“Aw, Genie! Don’t look at me that way!”

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re mad! C’mon Genie, it was only a joke! Y’know I didn’t mean to make you upset by taking your morphine-”

Gene shot you a look which seemed to look like a mix of exasperation and annoyance. He stiffly grabbed the small packets of morphine that were being held in your grip. Eugene then quickly stuffed them in his pocket before walking away from your position with his signature blank look.

“I’m not mad.”

“Hey! You are! I can tell by your face.”

You followed after him, desperate for him to accept your apology, or at least for him to give you a smile. You desperately tried to keep up with him, his brisk pace making it a challenge for you to walk by his side.

“Well, this is the face I got.”

He walked faster, seemingly trying to avoid or lose you. He walked through buildings, dove straight forward into crowds of people, or even going as far as to tell someone to block you. You still made haste though, and in no time were already hot on his heel. 

You grew tired of it and reached out to grab his hand. After you had his hand in yours, he stopped immediately and turned slowly to face you.

“For someone who’s mad, you’re acting awfully childish.”

“(Y/N), for the last time, I’m not mad. I can never get mad at you”

“Then what are you?”

You stood in front of him with one eyebrow quirked up and your hands on your hips. You tapped your foot on the ground as you waited for an answer.

You were left shocked as he pushed by you. He was only a couple steps away from you until he turned with a small smile and gave you a shrug before heading back to the Med Bay.

---------------------

It was that day, the day that Eugene Roe realized how much he cared for you.

It’s been four days since you disappeared from Easy Company. Four. Fucking. Days. Everybody was extremely worried and your absence has made everyone tense. 

If someone as lovable and skilled as you was missing, then they certainly wouldn’t stand a chance.

The men weren’t the same and it took a significant toll on every single one of them. But it especially took a large toll on the Cajun medic. Eugene couldn’t believe it. He refused to. He refused to believe that you weren’t there with them for four days.

Where the fuck were you? That was the thought on everyone’s minds. 

Eugene couldn’t comprehend it. It felt like only yesterday that you were there right beside him, making him turn as red as his nose and making his heart pound like a drum. 

Memories of you were still fresh on his mind, and they always seemed to taunt him.

He’d think of scenarios of you not being missing and how’d it was all just a big stupid joke or dream. Your face was all he could think about and his heart clenched every time.

It was soul-crushing, and he despised it. Eugene couldn’t focus since the day you were reported gone. Of course, he was fine after a few days, but the feeling of unease and tension grew with each passing moment. It gnawed on him continuously, but he couldn’t stop it.

(E/C) eyes and (H/C) hair was what he only wanted to see. But then he would see those beautiful eyes of yours dull and void of life, your once soft hair then greasy and matted with dried blood. Eugene would wake up in a cold sweat, the beating of his heart deafening him.

Everyone noticed his changed demeanor. Eugene got more cold, a little more distant and stand-offish. His personality mirrored everybody else’s after they got the news. But he was the one that was most affected. That was a fact.

Eugene was spacing off more than what was necessary. He was constantly in a daze and of course slower in his work. It was only when someone was injured that he was moving fast. But even then, he still wasn’t focused.

The spark of life in him was extinguished and that affected his work. He’d sometimes forget what he was doing, causing one of his patients to scream at his ear. 

It wasn’t the first time it happened. As the days went by, the more Eugene got caught up with his thoughts on your being. 

It caused him to get a nice chat with Winters on why he was acting like this.

“Roe… I know that it just might be nothing, but I noticed that you aren’t the same. Like something’s been bothering you. May I ask why you’re acting like this.”

“Sir, I think you already know of (Y/N) being MIA.”

Winters immediately looked down, as even someone with such authority like him was distraught about you. Winters quickly looked up and cleared his throat, eyes full or sorrow like Gene’s. 

Eugene straightened his back and he gripped onto the fabric of his pants.

“Of course… It’s been affecting everyone. I just wish that she was back with us. Do you still believe that she’s alive, Roe?”

“Of course, sir. I’m sure that she’ll turn up. Someday.”

“Maybe, Roe…” Winters nodded towards Eugene with a tight smile. “Dismissed.”

Eugene was being hit with numerous waves of anger, sadness, and worry. All five stages of grief were being experienced at the same time. He walked away, and even if he was supposed to be used to it by now, he couldn’t muster the courage to do so.

Images you being held prisoner and being tortured by the German Army scared him. Then images of you lying on the ground, fresh bullet wound on your head, the crimson liquid running down your face and onto the ground to create a morbid halo flashed afterwards. 

Eugene did nothing but drown in his thoughts underneath a tree nearby after that.

-------------------

“Gene?”

“Yes, mon ange?”

“Why do you always call me that?”

“For starters… You are one.”

“One of what?”

“An angel. ‘Mon ange’ means ‘my angel’. I also call you that because… Like I said, I am sure that you are one yourself. I wouldn’t believe you if you said you weren’t.”

The sun beamed down upon the two of you as you sat upon the grassy field. Your eyes were on the lush green trees in the distance, Eugene’s eyes, however, were fixed upon your face. You seemed oblivious to it, fortunately for him. 

You smiled and you turned your eyes to meet his, and you reached your (S/C) hands to intertwine with his bigger ones. You turned back to set your gaze on the forest, but the dark-haired man’s look never averted.

“Gene…”

“Hm?”

“You really think that?”

“Of course I do. God forbid the day I stop calling you mon ange.”

You rested your head on his shoulders, as the sun set over the horizon. Eugene tensed up momentarily before he relaxed, taking in your warm presence and happy demeanor. You tightened your hold on his hand and a smile crept on your lips.

“Je t’aime, mon ange…”

“I love you too, Genie.”

------------------

------------------

It had been more that a week since any sign of you. Some of the paratroopers had already seemed to have given up hoping for you to magically come back. No one dared to mention you, it was already too much to handle. Some of the privates that you knew couldn’t say your name without tearing up.

 Eugene felt like that too, but he was too cold to let anybody see him that way.

Most of Easy Company still held on to their feeble thoughts and dreams however. Eugene was one of them.

 He waited for a sign. Any sign. No matter how insignificant or small, he wanted one. He just wanted a sign that reassured him that you were indeed fine and well.

Eugene of course waited patiently for it. His nights were spent praying for you to return to them. Most importantly, to return to him.

 By then he would make sure that you would always be by his side. By then he’d also make sure that he won’t take those fleeting moments he spends with you for granted.

Eugene already did that too much and those were one of the many things he regrets. If he ever sees your face again, he’ll make sure to make you his the moment he lays his eyes on you. That was exactly what he was going to do.

For the time being, Eugene and a few of the boys from Easy Company were lazing around in their bunks, and some already sleeping. They were practically waiting for anything. Orders. An attack. Maybe even you returning...

Moments like these passed uneventfully. That was what Eugene always thought. The soft rumbling and muffled sounds of German artillery hitting something didn’t surprise them anymore. 

“Why are you all so quiet?”

A familiar annoying voice rang out through the room and most heads turned towards the culprit. Eugene mildly disliked Cobb, he was annoying sure, but he didn’t really do anything to make Eugene’s blood boil. Others ignored him, seemingly thinking that dealing with Cobb just isn’t worth it.

Cobb had a different plan. As soon as he saw that nobody paid attention and answered his question, he opened his mouth and crossed the line that no man in Easy Company has ever dared to step over.

“Are you guys still thinking about (Y/N)?

The air immediately grew stagnant and sour, and the men of Easy turned to face Cobb, who had a very shit-eating grin on his face. Eugene was one of the men who turned to him, and he glared hard at Cobb. 

“Oh come on, she’s clearly dead.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Cobb.” George snapped at Cobb, who didn’t seem to listen.

 The air was full of tension and every man in the room wanted to throw Cobb into a fucking fire. Eugene then turned away, anger gnawing at his mind. Some of the men were clearly in discomfort, one of them even excusing themselves from the room.

“Just think about it, a girl, like her? She’s clearly gone, I mean she’s been missing for what? A week? Take a look at people who’ve been missin’ for a day. Look where they ended up. They ended up dead.”

“Do you not know when to shut your fucking mouth?”

“Well all of you are really stupid for believing she’s going to come back! She’s fucking dead, get over it. What’s so special about her anyway, huh?”

Liebgott sprung from his seat and walked to stand face to face with Cobb. Eugene begged for Cobb to shut up for once. The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes at Cobb, his lips pursing as he sat tense in his seat.

You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to disappear and to be talked in this way by a man who had the same brain capacity as fucking rock. 

Eugene clenched his fists as he looked down on his lap. It took all of his will to not strangle Cobb right then and there.

Cobb’s pestering voice kept ranging out throughout the room, the men were trying their best to make him stop his bullshit. It was like a buzzing mosquito next to Eugene’s ear, and he wanted it gone.

“(Y/N)’s dead, you fucking idiots. All of Easy Company would be way better without her anywa-”

“Shut up. Shut up!”

Eugene lunged from his chair, the creaking of the wooden air on the cold ground rang throughout the air. But it wasn’t the harsh creaking that made everyone silent. It was the fact that Eugene Roe, the cold medic who kept to himself, snapped. Immediately everyone’s eyes widened as they eyed Eugene.

The Cajun man felt nothing but pure, unfiltered rage as he looked straight into Cobb’s eyes. He couldn’t tell, but Eugene was shaking. His clenched fist raised up in the air to direct itself into Cobb’s jaw.

 A sickening crack was heard as Cobb fell into the floor and Eugene only looked in indifference.

Cobb fell down on the floor as he cried out, the eyes of the men in the room only widened further as they looked to each other for any sort of answer as to what came over Eugene. 

Everyone knew that you and Eugene were close, rumours were even spreading around that you two were dating, which turned out to be true.

They weren’t anticipating Eugene almost knocking out Cobb though. It was bound to happen, anyway. Eugene couldn’t let you get insulted by Cobb, he didn’t stand up for it. The angry red feeling was intense as it coursed through his entire body as he opened his lips to speak again.

“Do you even hear yourself, you selfish bastard? You only care about yourself and you never take into consideration what's going on, do you? If (Y/N) is dead, so what? She’s still a better soldier and person than you are.”

Cobb sat still as Eugene went on his rant, his hand clenching his aching jaw and head. Eugene was seething beyond recognition and everyone just looked in shock.

“-I don’t get it! How come she gets to die while you stay here with us? How come it isn’t you in her place? How come you’re the one here instead of her?”

Harsh words flew from Eugene’s mouth, each syllable was laced in venom and his accent making each word hurt more. Eugene pointed at Cobb repeatedly as he raised his hands. During his anger-filled speech, the photograph he kept with him fell to the ground.

Eugene fell silent as he went up to pick up the picture. It was a photograph of you. You were smiling with not a care in the world. You were wearing your uniform proudly as you showed off your jump wings to the camera. You were beautiful...

But most importantly, you were still there with him. As reality dropped down upon him like a pile of bricks and he hurriedly shoved the faded photograph into his pocket.

 His eyes fell upon a shaken Cobb and his anger was only fueled more. He stood up straighter and his eyebrows furrowed more.

“She deserved it way more than you! (Y/N) didn’t need people talking about her behind her back! (Y/N) didn’t need to be separated from us! So tell me, why on Earth are you not gone, but she is? Give me a good reason!”

Cobb stayed silent as he mumbled angrily under his breath while clutching his jaw, his eyes were narrowed at Eugene who stared back. 

“Get the fuck out.”

Immediately Cobb git back on his feet, his hands grabbing the wall for support before stumbling for the door to outside. Cobb threw one last glare at Eugene before opening the door and heading out of the building.

The slam of the door echoed in the building, and heads turned towards the medic. Eugene stood in his spot, eyes glued to the closed door where Cobb had just left. 

His chest was still rising up and down heavily, and exasperated breaths were pulled from his mouth. George slowly brought up a hand to go onto Eugene’s shoulder, but Eugene pulled away before he could.

“Eugene?”

“I’m going outside…”

His deep voice was menacing, but they held deep amounts of pure and utter despair. The boys decided to let him go as they saw his state. Heavy footsteps were heard as Eugene walked to the door. 

He hesitated for a moment before heading out in the cold, biting air. Eugene gingerly took the photo from his pocket and he held it by his fingertips as he lovingly gazed at your smiling face.

He sat on the debris near the stone building, but it was hidden from sight, giving him time to himself. The medic looked at the photograph with a melancholy expression, another tight smile was brought on his face.

The world was cruel, Eugene knew that, but he never experienced it this hard. The pain from losing a patient or friend in his hands was incomparable to the pain he felt at this moment. The snow fell on the ground, a calm and serene sight. Which was a complete opposite of Eugene.

Soft yet clear sniffles were heard as fresh tears dropped on the snow below. He tried to choke back tears, but they ran down his cold cheeks.

 Eugene brought his hands to wipe them away, but they were quickly replaced. His lip quivered and Eugene attempted to stay as quiet as he could. He stifled more cries and whimpers and he leaned his head back.

That photo taunted him.

Your smiling face in the photograph only brought him temporary relief and happiness, but he needed the real you. Eugene loved you so much. Maybe a litte too much. 

But you would never know the extent of his love… Your fate was unknown, but his hopes were crushed as soon as those dreaded words left Cobb’s lips.

Eugene Roe, the now dazed and distant medic of Easy Company, has finally broken.

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im not crying i swear-

btw sorry this is shorter than my other fics but i hope you liked what i did! im sorry if it didnt come up the way you would have wanted but hopefully you still enjoy it!

but this request got me fucked up and i sort of wanted to torture myself by writing angst-

anyways thank you sweet anon!😭💕💕