#everyone knows why webster's here :)

[blood-mocha-latte]

how many times did i die without noticing? // abigail smith

[andy-wm]

I have thoughts on Jimin's SGMB

It's the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And by that I mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

We can all agree, I think, that this is a happy and totally harmless song. Who could criticise Jimin for declaring his love in such a sweet and innocent way?

Of course not everyone will like it, and that's fine. You don't have to like everything he does - or everything BTS does - you are an individual with thoughts and feelings of your own - I hope. But putting that aside you'd have to be a troubled person indeed to take offence at anything here.

So, it is definitely a fan song, right? Jimin is singing to his fans... isn't he?

Maybe.

But if it is (I and I'm not convinced) it's not just a fan song.

It's sweet, so sweet, but....

Maybe it's a little too sweet?

We know Jimin is CUTIE SEXY LOVELY and LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY, but let's be honest, he's also a grown man. And Army are not children (mostly). In fact we have had many many conversations about how ARMY are not children.

But this whole production is pushing the sweet and innocent barrow so hard that I can't help wanting to look underneath and behind and inside to see what's really going on because it's so sweet it's hurting my teeth.

Compare the sophistication and self awareness of FACE to the bouncy, bright and child-like song-and-dance in the SGMB music video. They are WORLDS apart and we were told very specifically that the albums were linked.

"Following his first solo album, “FACE,” where he sought to explore his true identity, “MUSE” documents his journey in search of the source of his inspiration." said the Weverse notification.

So what's really going on here?

What are you doing Jiminie?

And more importantly, why are you doing it?

You could call it a pageant, or a carnival, or a circus - with Jimin as the ringmaster.

But my view is:

This a pantomime. And it's very clever.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, a pantomime is "A dramatic entertainment,  originating in Roman mime, in which  performers express meaning through  gestures  accompanied by music." Yes, that describes it.

Merriam-Webster tells us "[A pantomime] is an ancient Roman dramatic performance featuring a solo dancer and a narrative chorus" That also makes sense.

Oxford also specified that it's a modern BRITISH tradition. "a theatrical entertainment, mainly for children, which involves music, topical jokes, and slapstick comedy." It's a perfect fit.

The British link is already there - Jimin clearly told us he's influenced by The Beatles' Sergeant Peppers Album. There's also the styling of his suit. The stovepipe pants, narrow tie, and fitted jacket are very 1960s (and 1980s) British pop.

There's something old-school about a pantomime. It harks back to childhood, and to the nostalgia of holidays. And the styling of the MV is in keeping with that nostalgic feel too - from the Mountain scene with the vintage film title, to the intertitles - or title cards , to the circular frame of the opening scene.

But back to the Pantomime itself...

A quick google search told me the following are important elements of pantomime. And we have most, if not all of them in this production.

Gender role reversal - TICK

Slapstick comedy - TICK

Colourful costumes - TICK

Audience participation - TICK (the children ARE the audience)

Exaggerated facial expressions - TICK

Take another look at the music video - it's all there.

Wikipedia tells us that pantomimes traditional told fairy tales or folk tales - often love stories - and that the primary role in a Pantomime was:

The 'Principal boy', a hero or charismatic rogue, traditionally played by a young woman in men's clothing.

Smart, very smart. With all the other conversations we've been having a round gender this is totally on the money.

Wikipedia goes on to say "Another pantomime tradition is to engage celebrity guest stars... Contemporary pantomime productions are often adapted to allow the star to showcase their well-known act.... If the star enters into the spirit of the entertainment, he or she likely adds to its overall effect"

Welcome, Loco.

(yes, I know collabs are de rigueur, but that doesn't change the fact that it fits - celeb guests are an established practice in Panto.)

So if this IS a Pantomime (and I'm not saying it definitely is but it looks like one to me), then it's intended to be a sung-story, told as much through dance and gestures as through words.

If it's a pantomime, what is it about?

I'm glad you asked! This little charade is the story of a young person called Jimin who is looking for love. He finds romance easily enough...

but real love takes a little longer.

Fortunately for our hero, he's brave (he will confess to his lover) and he is patient (he encourages them to do so too).

In between, there are shenanigans and goofing...

But our Charismatic Rogue is charming (if devilish) and wins the hearts of the audience - and his lover.

Let's take a closer look at how the story unfolds...

At the start of the MV, as the initial credits appear, Jimin is on stage vibing with his band. Loco is chilling on a rock like a lizard in the sun.

We get the ye olde intertitles, welcoming the audience and introducing.... SMERALDO Garden Marching Band

It's not Smeraldo Garden - Marching Band. It's Smeraldo *pause* Garden Marching Band. Smeraldo (secrets) has the emphasis.

After the intertitles, the scene opens on a group of children - they are ostensibly the audience of the band. They're playing paper-scissors-rock to see who will call for Jimin's attention.

The children run over to him and the tale begins.

Jimin, the main character of this story, immediately launches into song.

He starts off singing about Bangtan - mentioning their harmony (song and personal I think), he shows the Bangtan hand gesture we all know so well, and he sings "we gift happiness every day".

But he mentions June 12th.

Why June 12th?

Why not 13th, their debut day?

BECAUSE THIS IS NOT A SONG for ARMY. He's making it clear that at this point he's referring to Bangtan specifically, not the whole juggernaut of the fandom and fame. June 12th precedes ARMY.

He's made it clear from the start - this is NOT ABOUT ARMY.

Then he leans in and whispers to the children - and the camera -"lets talk about us".

Look at the kids' faces - they're miming shock. Ooooohhh! This is a big secret he's about to tell them - and us.

Look at Jimin's expression - he's just a tad smug. This is not a shocking secret to him, this is a fun secret.

Yes, he is indeed the charismatic rogue of this story.

He sings:

"All the things we couldn't say before

And your hidden feelings too (just for you)

Don't you worry anymore

Since we're together now**

Let's be a little more honest."

So it seems our main character has a LOVER. Someone who couldn't be revealed and who hid their feelings.

<Wow, I have no idea who this could be...>

Hang on, what's happening in the MV??

On his journey, it seems our young hero has a few short-lived romances. And if you look carefully, they are all with men.

He accepts the rose from a man, and plants himself on the bench right up close to .... a man. He jumps up unperturbed, and gifts the rose to (you guessed it) another man.

Jimin manages to sidestep (or completely ignore) all the women except one, who he sends graciously into the arms of a random man before continuing on his journey.

Wait one moment... his romantic partners were ALL MEN??

ALL MEN??

ALL MEN?!!!!!

Yes darling, all men. Let's continue.

So, it seems none of Jimin's previous romances grew into anything more, but he takes his own advice with his mysterious lover and confesses first.

He smirks. He flicks his jacket with pizzazz. He's ready.

He sings:

"Ooooh I love you babe,

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture in this choreo - it's another one we've seen many times.

The dance ends and Jimin scans the surroundings and spots his old friend...

[Enter stage left: Loco]

Oh look, the friend is a rapper a few years older than Jimin. They seem to have a lot of fun together, Jimin and his rapper friend. There are ZERO romantic overtones here. This guy happily goes along with all the goofing and silliness even though he looks a tiny bit mortified. Either they are both very good actors, or a lot of the time, Loco was holding in his laughter. And Jimin seems incredibly amused by that.

They hang out together until.... something in the atmosphere changes:

The colours become richer, light become warmer, and oh look....

It's *The Golden Hour*

I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP, PEOPLE. HE REALLY DID THIS.

Jimin leaves Loco, chasing the golden light as he sings about "the dazzling sky." Golden confetti (champagne, anyone?) falls all around him and then ...

fucking sunflowers bloom.

SUN FLOWERS.

BLOOM.

FOR HIM.

<I need to lie down and process this>

SUNflowers...

Remind me again what sunflowers are known for? Oh yes, they are symbolic of the sun. Guess what else? They turn to face the sun.

Yup, the sunflowers all turn their faces toward the camera. I'm not crazy, okay?! I'm not.

SMH... let's move on.

Jimin re-joins his band, and the sunflowers do their sunflower thing, and Jimin sings:

"So tell me how you feel,

let whatever you feel

wash over you"

Then he sings

"I love you babe, (yessir)

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture again

👉 👈

The bridge is next, and Jimin takes us back to Bangtan. As all the stars appear (that ocean of purple light that surrounds them at concerts) and everyone takes their place on stage, they turn up the music. <Are my eyes watering? Perhaps>

"I think we're ready now

<NGL I may have shed a tear here>

Lets begin 1, 2

<Ok fuck, I bawled at this point. Goddammit Jimin!>

Put your hands up"

*cute wiggle-dance commences* and Jimin spots his good friend the rapper again, hiding on the sidelines. He pulls him into the chorus line and they do more silliness and everyone is having a great time.

Confetti- flower petals fall, there's laughter and happiness all around, and they bow and bid us good bye.

The show is over.

*THE END*

But wait, I am not done.

A few more things bear mentioning here:

I saw quite a few comments saying this song is for ARMY.

It is categorically NOT for ARMY. Besides the fact that we already have Closer Than This - a fan song - on this album, Jimin specifically chose a date before debut - before ARMY existed - to place in this song. No mention of ARMY at all. Accept it graciously, this is not for you.

I wanna hold your hand

This lyric is a reference not only to the Beatles song "I Want to Hold Your Hand", It's also a common theme with Jimin and Jungkook. We see them finding any feeble excuse to hold hands, shake hands, touch hands. Yes, we see you two...

I am you, You are me

The gesture used in the choreo when Jimin is singing his confession - I failed miserably to catch it in my screengrab but there's no doubt it's their "I am you, You are me" gesture. Take a look for yourself.

All Jimin's romantic moments happened with men.

I'm not saying in his life, I am saying in this MV. All of them. The only interaction he has with a woman is one brief moment where he grabs her wrist as she passes by and he swings her into the path of a guy behind him. He even scoots around the women and sidesteps them. That can't be accidental. He's making a point.

The addition of 'yessir' in the lyrics makes it clear that he's confessing to a man.

I cannot see any reasonable way to refute this. The BH subtitles include it even though you have to listen carefully to catch it. THAT IS A CHOICE, NOT AN ACCIDENT.

"Even though we're together now"

These lyrics could mean theyre an established, committed couple. But if we think a little broader than that, and a little more literally, who is he together with right now?

It's strategically brilliant.

This is his 'tell all expose' but he has built in a rock solid escape clause by using the panto format. Staging the whole love story - including the prior boyfriends and the man he's now in love with - as an over the top comedy show makes it easily dismissible as pure fiction. By including the fantasy/magical elements he just makes it more so. Deniers will be able to come up with a dozen reasons to reject this... 'It's a fantasy story', 'not all songs are autobiographical', 'he's making a point', 'he's raising LGBTQIA+ awareness'... all true maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that this is HIS song, about HIS muse. If you've been paying attention (and even if you haven't) you will know this is certainly not pure fiction.

AND FINALLY....

The most important one, I left till last. I actually want to scream this, in all caps, in the biggest font possible. But I will restrain myself.

The song is bookended by references to BTS.

That is hugely important. For those who may not be aware, this is a literary device. Bookending a story provides a start and end reference point. Here, the Bangtan bookends provide context for the rest of the lyrics - they frame the lyrics within them. That means the events happening in the song, happen within the context of Bangtan. Reading between the lines, the person he is singing to/about is within Bangtan.

This is not reaching. This is like mixing blue paint and yellow paint together. You will get green paint.

💛+💙=💚

So yes, this song is the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And I DO mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

But yes, it's also absolutely and totally really really GAY

🏳️‍🌈🐥🦄🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌻🐰☀️🏳️‍🌈

Thank you Jiminie

[austinsastrology8991]

> SUN IN THA HOUSE < and whY yoU Be like dat

Sun is our focal point, its our brightest star > you force others to look at you and look at themselves by your star quality <

Sun in the First - Everyone knows them, and they make it a fact that if you don't see them then your the one who is blind. They have a confident swagger, but arrogance to them that begs for the attention of all around them, and everyone is locked in on how or why they have such a powerful presence. Their smiles are contagious too. Also somehow always in the perfect place to say some funny ass shit and keep their style points that they been racking up over the years "You know. You all know exactly who I am. Say my name" - W.W 'breaking bad'

Sun in the Second - Did I stutter? Im talking about what I need not what I want. These guys are possessed by themselves and everyone loves it. So focused so self contained, they don't want nothing to do with you if you can't help them achieve their goals, and that attitude is sticky and everyone wanna be glued to em because they are destined for success. So they are constantly deciding who they want to share their gifts with, because they know they got it, what you got? "Money, money, money, money, money ain't the motive, What's your name again? Nobody knows it, Don't speak to me n***a, you not important, Im focused" - Tyler, the creator 'smuckers'

Sun in the Third - The whizz kid who didn't study, but stole the test papers and told everyone the wrong answers and kept all the right ones to himself. They are smart and they dont need you to tell them this they just want some more god damn answers. And thats what frustrates everyone, because they know so much already, why they still searching? Well thats how they got so smart dummy "That's why they put my lyrics up under this microscope Searching with a fine tooth comb, it's like this rope Waiting to choke, tightening around my throat Watching me while I write this, like, "I don't like this note" - Eminem 'white america'

Sun in the Fourth - The sentimental cry baby that everyone loves to cuddle. Emotional but people find it adorable. They are the rock you can cry on if you want a rock to cry on. Nah but if you need a safe place to cry, you can cry to them, they'll protect you from the harsh waves of others emotional projections, because they get it, even when everyone else refuses to. But don't use em because that'll force them to block you out, and this decision will cause a emotional rollercoaster for the both of you and they'll blame you for it even if it was their decision "And I am done changing words, Just so my songs sound prettier, I just don't care if it hurts, 'Cause it hurts me too" - Faye Webster 'hurts me too'

Sun in the Fifth - The walking confetti explosion, always turnt up and if you trynna lower the volume then they'll oblige ya just so when the volume inevitably goes up again, they'll make it a point that its always more fun with the party up then down. Charming chameleons that are cheesin about the colours they managed to pull off. Watch em dance, watch em sing, watch em do a funny, they can do it all and laugh while doing it, the vibe is them and they are so good at inviting people in on the little big party they got going on "Man I just wanna go flex, Gold on my teeth and on my neck, And I'm stone cold with the flex, With my squad and I'm smokin' up a check" - Post Malone 'go flex'

Sun in the Sixth - Typeracer.com - nah but seriously they always working on themselves and comparing themselves just to make sure their progress is more than what they expected and way more than what others expected of them. Because they here for a reason, and they will never let a opportunity slip, because if they do, they'll stay awake over it for years, and they done wasting their good years. Basically Peggy Olsen "And when your album sales wasn't doing too good, Who's the Doctor they told you to go see? Y'all better listen up closely, All you n***s that said that I turned pop, Or The Firm flopped. Y'all are the reason that Dre ain't been getting no sleep" - Dr Dre 'forgot about dre'

Sun in the Seventh - I gotchu what you need? true homies always putting others before them, and i know this gets a bad rap these days but if you ever get one of these friends. Do yourself a favour and stop telling them to stand up for themselves, because they still standing with the weight of everyone else on they shoulders. This way they show others the power of communication. And they still sticking it to everyone who tell em otherwise, so please tell me how they not standing up for themselves? They the loyalist, you got no idea how many people rely on em and thats their pride "Every step I take, every move I make (ohh, I'll miss you), Every single day, every time I pray, I'll be missing you (yeah, yeah, yeah), Thinkin' of the day, when you went away, What a life to take, what a bond to break, I'll be missing you" - Diddy 'missing you'

Sun in the Eighth - Who went to hell and back? Well they went to a version of it. And they are done hearing whatever you done, because what they did beats your hell tenfold. They don't even wanna put you in your place because they don't wanna hear your attempts to disapprove of them because they've overcome more than some bullshit shit talking. Just put some respect on their name thats all they want. And if not it's easy pickens because think they worse than you, and if you done worse, they don't mind going badder, so be careful, they'll do it. They careful about not being careful so be careful "No I don't worry, I tell you, I'm a man who believes that I died twenty years ago, And I live like a man who is dead already, I have no fear whatsoever of anybody or anything" - Skepta 'no security'

Sun in the Ninth - I WOKE UP IN NEW BUGgATTI is how they live their lives, except miss the bugatti but keep the caps lock on. They live by a set of moral philosophies to help them get by and to find excitement/ enjoyment outta life, because they refuse to be a follower, they've seen how sad everyone else is and they just trynna make sure it don't work out that way for them. Educated idiots; making up the rules as they learn the rules to live by their own rules. They lead their own life and it rubs off on everyone on how you should live your own life > teetering the edge of danger and fortune. Also someone who'll give it to you the realest despite being the biggest clown "Black kid get shot, white man get tazed, Media spread lies, politicians get paid, Doctors wanna drug you up so you can reach an early grave, Prisons wanna lock you up so they can fill up every cage Make fifty cents an hour, they gon' work you like a slave, Government gon' play dumb but they know everythin' " - Meechy Darko 'kill us all'

Sun in the Tenth - "Who speaking about me? oh. he ain't shit" - they acting better than everyone, and its fake until it isnt. No one knows when they made it because they always acted like they did. They dont brag they let the audience speak their volumes, hum their symphonies, play their drums, tickle their balls, and they just the orchestrator of it all. Because they doin the most, and they know everyone gonna talk about it so no need to even speak on it. Classy about it too. They on the top and they don't wanna leave so they acting humble but everyone know they really feelin themselves, but hey who wouldn't "I might be too strung out on compliments, Overdosed on confidence, Started not to give a fuck and stopped fearing the consequence, Drinkin' every night because we drink to my accomplishments" - Drake 'headlights'

Sun in the Eleventh - Trend setters who leave their shit stains on every social setting they enter. They got this influence about them thats hard not to notice, because they have at least three people fawning over em, and they not doing shit. Always trying to spread their influence, so if you want someone to back you its them, because their word is worth more due to their connections. And the easiest way to connect is technology and they all up in the software and getting a hard drive about it. They say some outta pocket shit, but thats where the influenza comes from I guess. They somehow everywhere and no where at the same damn time "It's ironic you talk jail time, But you ain't never seen no central booking (yeah) It's ironic you hang with a n***a that beat women And have the nerve to call yourself "Girl Pusher" Wow! You ain't real, I'm gonna show you how I really feel - JPEGMAFIA 'baby im bleeding'

Sun in the Twelfth - Lonely introspective dreamy creative types. Is what you could say if you wanna sum them up. But there is much more to them, but they are so afraid of letting anyone in because they are so sensitive. Their empathy and ability to look at things from different perspectives is what sets them apart, and they want to be set apart, because they feel alone, and don't wanna pretend they your friend if they ain't. They are extremely creative to a fault, and a lot of people would rather make fun of their works then celebrate how special it is. Until it is widely acknowledged how gifted they are, then everyone will switch up around them. But they will never forget who said what, because they above the whats; aint got time for someone who thought they were just a what "'Cause I'm out there, Tried to tell you that I'm out here on my own, I told you I was out there, Tried to tell you that I'm out here on my own,I fell down to Earth, From a hundred miles away and somehow I still make it work, But it's overrated and somehow played out" - Oliver Tree 'alien boy'

[imwetforyourmom]

FADING AS THE SONG GOES.

CW: Angst, unresolved angst?, breaking up, crying, drugs and shit, hanging around the wrong crowd, !!!!DO NOT DO DRUGS!!!! very bad drugs

SUMMARY: Of course chris noticed when you werent okay, he was your boyfriend afterall.

A/N: I have no idea how drugs work, so bear w me here

·˚ ༘

“Its okay, to not be okay, my love.”

The secret was out before it was even whispered to your own mind. It was no secret why you came home with bloodshot eyes, rasped voice, drug smelling breath, the scent too strong, even when you chewed mint gum eight times before coming home, it was still there. Everyone knew what you were doing.

You never received the adrenaline pumping through your blood from keeping such a ‘thrilling’ secret. And, as much as you told yourself, the adrenaline that was once hoped for, wasn’t why you started. It was never even a thought to begin with, that was just what you told people when they curiously asked, and not for the fake bullshit, the real reason why. But why would you tell them the truth? You didnt owe them that.

On the other hand, you owed your boyfriend the truth. You owed him the spilling of your guts, the reeling truth of why you’d begun. But, the guilt swimming down your lungs, stealing your choice of freed breathing, choking you, was why you chose not to. The silent cries, pleas and begs from the little voices inside your head did little to convince you to stop, but they didnt do nothing either. Thats why you’d shoved them into the crevices of your mind, mangled within the rest of your innocence. You knew Chris’ begging voice would do everything to tell you to stop, another reason you never told him. You didnt want to stop.

The radioactive chemicals that filled your body was too addicting to quit, the pure high you felt was strong enough to hold you in its grasp, shove you around and control you. You, too delirious with how good it felt to have the drug pumping through you, to even try and claw your way out. To even try and think about stopping, because when even the slight thought of quitting sent not shivers down your spine, but the crackling of each bone in the drugs grasp went down your spine.

Not even the warmth seeping from Chris’ body when he held you was as good as the high you experienced. Chris would never amount to the drugs, (he controls the guilt). As much as you loved the boy, you loved the intoxicating taste of drugs more. The more you came home late, the more your body ached with the need to feed it more, to give it that beautiful, delicious, ‘at peace’ moments. The more your eyes sunk in, the more your laughter escaped your body, hanging with your ‘friends’. Little did you know, you would’ve actually despised these people if you werent high off your ass everytime you hung out with them. Your little buddies were never people you’d even think about hanging out with, they’d bring that sick feeling of nausea in your stomach when sober. But you weren’t sober. The more you lost yourself, the more Chris was left sat on the bed, watching as the door shut, the peek of little light falling from his lane of vision as it closed comepletely. Why were you leaving him in the dark, there to slouch his shoulders, rest his head in his hands as his thoughts became too heavy?

Gosh, why couldn’t you just fucking stop. What was wrong with you? What was so fucking messed up in your already fucked up head that you chose drugs over your own boyfriend?

In the otherwise silent room, the brush of a foot pushed against the creaky floorboards, you didnt look up. Too ashamed to meet the eye of what you’d hoped, Chris’ hopeful gaze.

“Y/n?” Chris’ voice interrupted the sudden crowding of your own mind, the thoughts all swarming like a crowd of people at a concert, no other reason except to move.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Answer him you asshole!

Your voice tangled within the confines of your closing throat, making it harder for you to speak. Your eyes moved quickly to Chris’, despite the slow bobbing of your head falling backwards.

With a strained effort to speak, you answered. “Yes?” Your eyes looked up to meet his, the almost pitch black room normally lit up with only his pure presense, but it didnt. It only saddened the tension mingling in the air.

His face was sympathetic. Fuck. All the guilt rushed up to the surface, filling your body and taking it whole, that your eyes begged to release the guilt. It began to become harder to hold the tears back, even with only two words uttered, shoved into the atmosphere.

His adams apple bopped downwards as he swallowed, his hands coming to his lower abdomen as they connected, fidgeting nervously like a child in trouble. The eye contact he held began faltering, his lips twitching to speak.

“A- Are you okay?” His hands dropped, his chest rising with a sudden quick inhale, maybe the air was thick with confidence, for him, at least. You felt as if the air was so thick with awkward tension you couldn’t breathe.

The swarming crowds in your mind disappeared, vanishing into the dusty air of your mind. Leaving you to sit, rocking back and forth, holding your head in your hands, too occupied with thinking of a reply to his question to actually answer his question, either the truth, or a lie. He knows the truth either way, you knew that. But you didn’t feel comfortable enough to admit that you werent okay, it itched your throat with nausea.

Chris’ eyebrows creased in remorse. His lips slipping to a frown as the air around them began swishing, sloshing with each movement made. He swallowed his previous longing for an answer to everything, instead, he moved his feet, the thick air begrudgingly moving along with him as he sat down, side by side with you.

His arm slid to your shoulder, pulling you close to him as he breathed in and out, slouched and sitting there, holding you against him as he prepared himself for the conversation he was intending to have with you.

“Its okay, to not be okay, my love.” He whispered, his head staring ahead, eyes glued to the monotone green and red carpet coating the floor. His hand rubbed your arm, maybe subconciously, who knows.

“I’m your boyfriend, you dont need to keep secrets from me, you dont need to hide in fear of shame. Thats not what i’m here for.” His voice remained the same, a tired lacing, with a rasp beginning to rip the seams.

“I’m here to be by your side, hold you as mine, let your tears soak my shoulder, share laughter with you, to share arguments together, even. But I cant do that, if you choose-“ his voice faltered, a sharp inhale interrupting his trail of words, as a seemingly brace for himself. “If you choose drugs over me, my love. You need to choose me. And I know, I know its going to be hard, but I want you to want to give them up, I want you to need the freedom.”

You stayed silent, your head resting onto his shoulder, listening to his words as he spoke. If only, if only, you could seep them in. Let them change you, but the drugs felt stronger, grabbing your wrist and tugging, like a helpless child.

Your voice cracked with emotion as you began, “I can’t, Chris,” a near sob escaped your throat. “I want to, I really do, but I just— I cant.” You gave up, your voice trailing off. Your eyes closed, tears beginning to flow down your cheeks, the painful lump in your throat serving as a warning for the sobs begging to rack through your body.

He nods, closing his eyes. A small, seemingly shattered exhale leaves his lips. His hand doesnt stop its comforting and assuring rubs onto your shoulder, only now, his thumb sweeps over your skin every few seconds.

He rests his head ontop of yours. The previous awkward silence seeps to the ground through the cracks of the wood floor. Acceptance is what takes its place. Acceptance that you couldnt let go, acceptance that Chris couldnt do anything to help, unless you let go. Acceptance, that it just wasnt going to work out, no matter how desperate of a longing ache filled inside Chris’ body. It wasnt his choice.

You were just, fading as the song goes.

1,329 words

TAGS

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @ssilentzom @b2cute @graysturns @wh0resstuff @sturn-bugz @sunsetsturniolos @strniolo @sturnssmuts @simply-a-simper @stunza @meerkatzthings @joemamaaa42069 @sturniluvr @cindylcuwho @wurlibydominicfike @watercolorskyy @aaliyahsturniolo1 @alyrasturnz @colorthecosmos444 @sturnobsessedwh0re

@lovesturni0l0s @maryx2xx @mattsmad @dollyspsychoxo @riasturns

@starsturni @britishamerican11 @mattspinkshirt

@chrissturniolosworld @ariqolyx

@mels222lunchbox

@elas3

[jocelynscrazyideas]

I Know You | Matt Rempe x reader

Inspired by the song I know you by Faye Webster

Warnings: heartache, salty fluff/angst, language, depression, mentions of death, (if you every need help I’m always here to listen and support you- always reach out and I’m here bubbas), the blurb is kinda long lwk. NOT PROOF READ

Summary: after wanting to follow your passion and go for a job you’ve been dreaming of, Matt turns down your dreams and shuts you out. You feel insufferable without him but feel unseen for your love and potential when you’re together.

a/n: I’ve been thinking abt Matt and I was listening to this song on the shower and I was like “damn, this is it.” So I hope you enjoy.

📚💬: Lando Norris? Or I could make a new blog and post there but yippee 🥳 OML and I know everyone likes my smut work more but im proud of this piece so don’t be mean. MATT REMPE WOULD NEVER DO THIS IRL (READ THSI WITH A GRAIN IF SLAT)

.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺༻

I had recently been really verbal about my dream job, being a Social Worker. I grew up in a family issued home, and I had recently gotten out. I want to let people know that there is safety and secure housing out there. That’s why this job has always been important to me.

It’s off season, Matt is off ready to train for the summer. Matt, my boyfriend if 5 months had recently told me to reach farther than the stars. “The sky looks like the limit, but there are most definitely more than one universe out there. Reach for the impossible.” He told me. Matty supported my dreams until he found out the job I wanted to take was in Wyoming.

Now it seems stupid but, I’d go across the world to take the job- im determined to rescuing the unseen.

“You should stay! Find a social worker association in New York! Please.” Matt begged. For weeks he would buy me flowers and take me out to dinner.

“Matt you just don’t get it!” I yell from the other side of our shared bed.

“I know you better than I know myself y/n! Of course I get it.” He shouts in my face. He stumps towards me. I crawl over the large bed and run out the room. I slam the door. Running for my shoes.

“You can’t just run!” He screams from the top of the stairs. He watches me slide my shoes on, he runs down the stairs as he sees me darting for my water bottle and the keys to my car.

“You don’t get it Matt! I lived it! You didn’t!” I immediately shout, he takes a hold of my wrist. He scoffs and lets me go. Dropping my heart, my stomach, my air, and I leave.

I have a work cell and a personal phone. Matt has my work number but not the location so I purposely left my personal on the counter and left. “You left your phone! y/n!” He shouts as I get in the car.

“Keep it! That’s how you’ll remember me! How you treated me!” I mimic him. Mocking what I had thought was the love of my life- which clearly I was wrong.

He runs after me. I see him dash inside of the house letting the glass door shut into the frame. He rubs out of the house once more, this time sitting the door securely.

Surely he’s just going to the grocery. No. He’s driving after me.

I take a sharp left, right. I pass through a light, I turn into a neighborhood, behind a blue house was a path. I park in the Parking lot they had taht sits infront of a large pink and organge playground. I take my keys and let my water sit in the car.

I tie my shoes and sprint away. I make it to .14 miles and I check to see Matt isn’t behind me. No one is on the path. I set my phone down and I tighten my runners belt.

I stuff my keys and push my phone in. I put my AirPods in and stuff the case into the belt. I listen to sad songs to fuel my running crave. I stretch after that warmup.

I hear cars passing by. “I’m sorry, i am playing hide and seek with my girlfriend, she is hiding with my niece I was wondering if you have seen her.” I stand up from my stretches.

What the fuck.

I’m behind a wall of bushes that hide the running path. I slide my head over, I peek through. Shit.

It’s Matt.

“Her name in is y/n. If you see her just tell her to meet me at the green marble.”

Green marble. The place I took him when he had his first panic attack after an nhl game. I calmed him down at this lake and it was super clear- really beautiful. The green marble was the place we spend the most time at together, our first kiss happened here, our last date was here.

The real reason why we call it the green marble is because I was wearing a green dress and he had on socks that I made fun of, they were marble/ tie dye.

~

Matt turns as I jerk back. He made eye contact with me through the bush. “Y/n?” He mumbles. He apologizes to the stranger he was talking to and walked toward me. I ran. I ran to my car. Letting him think I was getting in. I watch him turn around and head to his car.

He thinks he’s going to follow me out of the park. Nope.

I take off. I start on a small jog towards the duck pond they have. I run around this pond about four times which lead to about 1.43 miles.

I get tired of letting Matt eat away my feelings. I run back to my car, I stretch before I get in and I drink my water. I’m covered in bug bites and sweat. It’s 92F out, I’m wearing pink gym shark shorts and a black bra from alo yoga. My hokas are worn down, and my Nike socks are covered in dirt.

I head back towards home, then I see Matt’s car isn’t there. He doesn’t park in the garage so I’m guessing he’s just out drinking his emotions away.

~

“Meet me at the green marble.”

I never him saying to the stranger.

~

I reverse my car out of the driveway and I head to the lake.

“You actually came.” He laughed. Matt got up, wiped his hands on his shorts.

“How many girls asked to take a picture.” I laugh.

My mom used to tell me, “sometimes you just have to be the bigger person, let the other person think they have won the argument, but really, letting them move on is the best win. Forgetting and forgiving is the best gift you can do for yourself, and especially in big moments and relationships you’ll have when you’re older.” I think about it taht all the time.

Does it work? Oh yeah. It sure does. Matt falls for it all the time.

Ms I doing it right now? Of fucking course I am.

Do you know how some people say that men push away their emotions? Yeah Matt is distant, and I want him to be more open. He just gets insecure.

~ after the beach ~

Matt tried to shower with me, and i was okay with the thought of us showering together again. Until, “bubs, the hamper is full again.” He spoke to me. He looked at me like I was the only one who was capable of doing siad laundry.

“Okay.” I stared at him. I didn’t shower. I put on pjs instead. While Matt showered I packed a go bag, you never know when you need it.

I stored the bag by the shoes downstairs. I ran back upstairs to lay in bed.

“Matthew. We need to talk.” I mumbled when Matt came into bed. He leveled his head to mine and pulled me closer to him. My back still facing his front I pull my hands towards my face. Covering my face from any chance that I could cry.

“What do you want ti talk about?” He asked and kissed my cheek. He lay back down on his back and sighed.

“I wnat you. I all of you, you here in New York with me.” He voiced.

I told him before he got drafted- when we were still friends, that I didn’t wnat him to leave. You know what he did? He left for New York anyway.

“I made a decision. You aren’t going to like.”

“Y/n. I love you, I will come to your senses.” He laughed. He thinks my words are jokes.

Before I tell him I am leaving, I get up. Sitting up straight, getting out of bed. I made this decision about for seconds after packing my go bag, “Matt, I love you. I also love myself, and- I… I wnat to go to Wyoming.” I stutter and I see him sit up. Without hesitation he looked at me like I was a piece of garbage.

“No. Y/n this is something we talk about together.” He shouted at me. Spot flies out of his mouth.

“It’s my job, they offered me a really nice deal, they house me for a year and that’ll get me enough money to buy a nice house. I’ll be able to pay everything off my name.” I present him the idea of me being successful.

“No.” He lays back down, thinking I’ll say okay, and sit with him in bed again.

That’s not what happened.

“If you leave right now, we’re done. Yiu hear me? If you leave the room, we are not a thing, we are breaking up if you go sleep on your car, or sleep in the guesthouse.” He adds before I stepped out of the room.

I left. I grabbed the door before leaving and I ran.

I shoved my bag into my backseat, I had extra clothes, I had snacks, my work cell, blankets, my personal belongings I was okay to sleep in my car for atleast three days.

~

It’s been a year without Matt.

It’s been a year without me.

When I was driving to a friends house to spend the night, I never made it.

A drunk driver had hit my car, I came flying out. Following that, another driver had ran a red light, running me over.

I had six broken ribs, a fractured wrist, I tore my meniscus and my acl from landing on the pavement.

When Matt came driving behind me looking for me, it was only after Sarah- my friend I was going to spend the night, with called him.

“Hey Matt, um, y/n didn’t make it to my house. She said you guys are getting in it and needed a place ti stay. It’s been an hour since she said she’s on her way, it only takes 15 minutes to get to my house.”

“Okay? Maybe traffic?” He answered.

“No Matt, you’re not listening, it’s 2:07 in the morning. There is no traffic, we’re in the suburbs, no one is up right now except drunk drivers, I have something in the oven because I thought she would wnat a dinner but she never made it.” Sarah sounded sacred she couldn’t leave.

“Okay fine. I’ll go looking for her.”

“Matt, it was always going be you looking for her. If I went out for her, she would have left you.”

~

I was on the cold black pavement waiting for someone to come get me. I couldn’t move. My lungs are crushing, my car is broken, the drivers taht and hit me all drove away. So much pain is going through my body it feels like nothing is happening.

I took a different way then I normally would have taken, just in case Matt came looking for me.

“Matt..” I kept whispering. I’m bleeding everywhere. My head is cracked open. My arm is twisted in ways it shouldn’t be.

I try rolling over, I could not get on my side, but before I feel back down, I felt my stomach. My actually guts. My actual organs were in my hands. I rolled back down in the cold now flooded with blood road.

I see a car roll up towards me. I know that car.

“Matt?” I cough out blood. I can’t see.

“Baby?!” He called 911.

He curled over me. Putting pressure onto my open wounds.

I know better than to pass out, but I give up. I felt my heart beat slow and I fell asleep.

Alseep forever.

~

At the hospital I was out in machines to stay alive. There was 5% taht I would wake up again, but I would not be able to function the way I could before the crash.

Matt stayed with me for days, he never left the hospital grounds he was always there, he showered at home but that was only during non visiting hours.

He would talk to me.

“I know baby.”

“It’s okay. I know you.”

“You can go. I’ll be here doing this for you.”

“I know you.”

[womenaremypriority]

What is gender?

Instead of asking “what is a woman?” I propose we should ask more what gender is.  The transgender movement is, fundamentally about placing gender above sex, in language and law- although claiming sex is a spectrum or a complete construction is becoming more common.  ‘Woman’ and ‘man’ aren’t sex terms, they’re genders, sexual attraction is based on gender, not sex, and public planning should be based on gender.  So, what is it?  

The roots of the word gender came from Latin, and originally meant ‘category, group.’  It has etymological roots with the word genre, and this is partly why we have the term grammatical gender in many languages.  Gender became a synonym for biological sex hundreds of years ago, and is used partly as a more family friendly alternative.  As a separate entity, however, gender refers to the social roles of male and female.

Here are a few definitions and helpful information:

Let’s look at the specifics of the different interpretations of the word ‘gender’.

Gender roles: Self explanatory. What feminists are against. What transgender activists claim to be against, and what they claim is not the basis for transgender identity. This seems to be the most clear and understandable definition, to me, anyway.

Gender identity: An internal sense of gender. This has been claimed to exist, but how this could possibly present or feel has not been in anyway demonstrated. Studies have shown transgender people have the brains of the gender they identify as, but those studies are shoddy and flawed. Brain scans aren’t required to transition, these studies don’t account for nonbinary-identified people, and the brain sex argument has fallen out of favor- so, we’ll say that’s not what’s being discussed here. So, what is? What is this internal gender identity? Can we find it? How do we know everyone has it? And why should it be prioritized over birth sex? What’s being described is, frankly, unverifiable and flimsy. Not to mention quite useless. This doesn’t mean I think that people who claim to have this feeling are lying- they could have something that is interpreted as gender, but that doesn’t mean it’s experienced by the general population, and this feeling could be caused by any number of areas. If this feeling is, indeed, dysphoria at being referred to a certain way, and/or euphoria at being referred to a certain way, again, how can we know this is a symptom of some deep held identity, or a sign of something different? How can we verify this, and while I understand personally adapting language to accommodate someone in your life, why should this take priority over sex for the general population? Gender expression- How is this different than sex stereotypes, and gender roles? While I’m told that this doesn’t need to match general societal expectations, how does that actually work? If you’ve expressing your gender- whether that’s man, woman, or some form of nonbinary- even if you know anyone can dress how they want, even if you say ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ means something different to everyone, you are still making a connection between gender and how one looks- and according to the Miriam-Webster photo, acts. Not only is this, again, ridiculous to elevate this above sex in language and law, it’s unhealthy to hyper focus on how others see you, not to mention confusing and harmful message to constantly use the terms ‘gender identity’ and ‘gender expression’ together. I’ll be honest, even if transgender people claim the movement isn’t about stereotypes, I don’t believe that’s the case. At the very least, it’s not the message every one of them got. Conflating gender with sex, and the words ‘men’ and ‘women’ with personality, a feeling, clothes, vibes, interests, or an aesthetic, is a dangerous and ridiculous concept. Instead of what it’s claiming to do- breaking the gender binary- it’s putting men and women in a box, yourself. You are the one limiting what men and women can be. Even if everyone decided to identify as some form of nonbinary, this would not affect the reality of sexism and the perceived inferiority of 50% of the population- it would only paint a coat over it. It would make communication and activism impossible. By conflating experience of autism, or interest in space, or interest in a certain style of dress- with the terms man and woman, you are perpetuating stereotypes, not breaking them.

[daddy-dins-girl]

CAN YOU DO A PEDRO BOYS IDEAL FIRST DATE

Ok well I don't have an alignment chart for this one, but I can provide some headcanons!

And apologies, I didn't get ALL the boys in here, but I got a lot. Feel free to reblog with HC's of any of the boys I missed.

Hope this is somewhat what you had in mind!

PS: My ask box is always open.

Headcanons under the cut!

Joel Miller - Joel takes you to a bar. It’s a little divey, but not without its charm. There’s live music and all the furniture is made of rich mahogany that gleams even under the low lighting. Joel looks amazing, foregoing his usual flannel for a black button-down shirt that’s tucked into dark jeans and a brown leather belt. Once you’ve gotten your drinks from the bar he takes you to a round booth and slides in right next to you, slinging his arm over the back of the bench and over your shoulders so that there’s no question to anyone else in the establishment who exactly you came here with (and who you’re leaving with). The table he picked is close to the stage so that every time you want to talk to each other you need to lean in real close just to hear what the other is saying. You think he did that on purpose, and you think you like Joel. scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️

Marcus Pike - Marcus has planned everything ahead of time. He has a reservation for a restaurant he knows you’d love, based on just the few short conversations you’d had previous to setting up this date. After your meal you take a romantic walk along the pier at his suggestion and you wonder why Marcus keeps checking his watch every few minutes until suddenly fireworks start bursting high in the sky above your heads and you realize he wanted to time your walk perfectly so that you wouldn’t miss the scheduled show. He’s literally so adorable you could melt. You pretend to be cold as you watch the colorful display in the sky so that he’ll maybe put his arm around you. He does, but not until after shrugging out of his suit jacket and laying it across your shoulders first. You have a second date on the books before the first one even ends. scorcher score:🌶️

Dave York - You’re certain it’s no coincidence that Dave picked a restaurant that happened to be inside of a fancy hotel. And to his credit, you’re at the concierge desk before dessert has even been served, pawing all over each other while he hands the clerk his AMEX card and reminds them you do not wish to be disturbed this evening.  scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Jack Daniels - Jack takes you to the rodeo. You’ve never been before so it’s actually really fun and exciting as he explains all the events to you and you look around in wonder at everything happening around you. Jack failed to mention, however, that he’s in the fucking rodeo. You don’t mind though because the whole bucking bronco thing? Kinda hot…  Later you make sure to tell him that, and to leave the hat on. scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Max Phillips - Max called it a “date” when he’d invited you. You (and literally everyone else including Webster’s Dictionary) would actually refer to what he’s brought you to as an orgy but… tomato/tomahto.  Max Phillips is an absolute menace, but you knew that already. scorcher score:🚨 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ 🚨

Javi Gutierrez - He takes you to the movies, of course. You half expect him to have rented out the entire theater for just the two of you, but once the movie starts playing you watch in awe of how into it he gets, eyes lighting up like a kid at Christmas. And it's not just the movie, but the joy he seems to get from sharing the experience with the hundred or so people around you. It’s sweet. He’s sweet.  scorcher score: 🌶️

Frankie Morales - He picks you up from your place and drives for a good hour up the coast line until he stops finally for what he tells you is the absolute best taco truck you’ll ever experience (and turns out, he’s not wrong). After dinner and an ice cream cone from another nearby food truck he holds your shoes (and your hand) as you take a walk down the beach on warm sand while soft summer waves lap at your feet. You absolutely let him get to 3rd base in the cab of his truck before he drops you off. scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️

Javier Peña - It’s not exactly a date, but you do get a text to your phone at 2am. “U up?” scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Maxwell Lord - Maxwell wants to show you off. He takes you to a swanky party that is crawling with Washington’s social elites. Politicians, Diplomats and business men and women make up a majority of the guest list and he’s eager to have you on his arm when he makes introductions. The party is a little stuffy, a little boring, so when the entertainment portion of the evening begins and everyone is distracted, you and Maxwell happily sneak off to the back of the coat check room for your own private party instead. Maxwell turns out to be a little spicier than you originally gave him credit for.  scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️

Oberyn Martell - see “Max Phillips”. scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Marcus Moreno - Marcus takes you to a carnival that happens to be in town for the weekend. You shove cotton candy in each other’s faces like complete dorks in love, share your first kiss at the top of the ferris wheel, walk the fairgrounds eating snow cones, and before the night is over Marcus wins you a teddy bear with a red ribbon around its neck that is literally so huge you can barely get it through your front door later that night when he drops you off.  scorcher score:🌶️🌶️

Dieter Bravo - very similar to Javier Peña, except the text he sends is all in emojis... “🍆 💦 🍑 ❓🥺” scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Choose your first date! It's a tough one but... gun to my head, I think I'm going with Frankie.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

I’ll Wait For You

Hey anon, thank you so much for your adorable request. I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you enjoy. The best way to kick off the New Year? A Eugene Roe fic of course. Happy New Year everyone! Warnings: mentions of injury, family death, destruction of homes, themes of war, weapons.

Eugene couldn’t remember the last time his heart hadn’t been pounding out of his chest. Ever since they’d jumped on D-Day his heart had been beating like a trapped bird flapping its wings against his ribcage. He didn’t know whether it was fear or adrenaline; or both. He could safely say that he was scared, many of the men wouldn’t admit it and as their medic, he wouldn’t show it, but he was scared, scared for himself and his friends. It was normal to be scared. Yet Eugene had never seen anyone as scared as the large blue-eyed civilian girl looking up at him and Liebgott.

“What do we have here?” Liebgott had all but sneered, pointing his M1 at a terrified civilian. Eugene felt himself smacking the gun away from her, “Leave her be. She’s a civilian. What da hells wrong wit’ you.”

Liebgott quickly lost interest in the situation once Eugene took a protective stance in front of her, and hurried off to join Webster and a few of the others that had crowded in the square.

“It’s all right. I won’t hurt ya,” Gene spoke softly as he knelt beside her, his hands raised and his eyes not leaving hers. She backed further away from him, tears trickling down her cheeks as she mumbled something.

“What was that? Whatcha say?”

The girl mumbled again and Eugene’s demeanour quickly softened. She didn’t understand English, of course, she didn't, she was speaking French.

“C'est bon. Je ne te ferai pas de mal,” Eugene spoke again trying to reassure her he was no threat and this time the girl looked up at him, her eyes widening in disbelief.

“Tu parles français?” She asked, no longer looking as though she was about to fly out of the nearest open door.

“Je suis à moitié cajun. Toute ma famille parle français,” Eugene explained, glad that he was able to calm her down in her mother tongue. He could only imagine the horrors she had witnessed and then hiding in an abandoned house during the siege on Caretan too. He could only imagine.

“As-tu une famille? Que faites-vous ici?”

She shook her head and he wondered if he’d crossed the line by asking too much about her family.

“My family are all dead. I came here to be with my Aunt but the Germans had got to her first,” tears began to trickle silently down her cheeks again and Eugene felt himself reaching forward to place his hand on her shoulder, she didn’t pull away, instead leaning into his touch.

“I have no one left,” she muttered and now it was Eugene’s turn to look shocked.

“You speak English?”

“A little,” she admitted, “not a lot.”

Eugene couldn’t help but smile at her. She truly was pretty, her eyes striking against her pale skin, and despite the soot that covered her cheeks Eugene didn’t think he’d ever seen a girl so beautiful.

She moved a little and let out a small whimper which caused Eugene to lurch forward. “Are ya hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” she lied, clutching her calf which was now smeared with blood, her other bloody hand raised against her chest protectively.

“What happened to ya?” Eugene asked, digging into his musette bag and pulling out a sachet of sulfa powder and a bandage. He didn’t hesitate to wrap the bandage around her thigh, pushing her dress out of the way without a second thought. She was a patient, so why should he treat her any differently, although his growing red in response told a different story.

“Tu es très doux,” the girl mused, watching as Eugene’s hands worked quickly, wrapping her leg securely. Eugene hummed in amusement, no one had ever told him he was gentle before, certainly none of the other paratroopers. “It’s true,” she repeated and giggled as Eugene’s cheeks blushed a deeper shade of red. He quickly moved on, bounding her hand, avoiding her eye contact as she watched him work.

“You should be all set,” Eugene leaned back on his feet. “Can ya try and keep off it for a few days at least?”

“I can try but I’m trying to get to a family friend's house. It’s only a few miles down the road. I’m hoping they will take me in,” she looked down at her scuffed shoes, unable to face the truth that she really was alone now.

“How about we give ya a lift? We got plenty of trucks. I can ask the Lieutenant,” Eugene added hurriedly, he didn’t know why but he desperately wanted to help this girl and yet he didn’t even know her name.

The girl just nodded, watching as Eugene stood and hurried away.

A few days later Eugene found himself passing by the quaint town they had dropped the injured girl off to. He was busying himself in an abandoned barn patching up one of the young Private's shoulders. The boy was whining and moaning at the mere flesh wound and Eugene found himself losing patience with him.

“Will ya just stay still?” Eugene grumbled, pushing his elbow firmly into the boy to steady him. The boy continued to complain but Eugene ignored him, too caught up in his work. The other paratroopers often commented on how he generally focused on the wound instead of the patient, of course, he offered words of comfort when required but he felt the attachment unnecessary. Eugene had never intended to be a medic, it was thrust upon him during training and so he had embraced his calling. He would hold the lives of his fellow paratroopers in his hands, thus denying him the ability to become attached, because if he became attached, became their friends, their brothers, well it would make it all the harder when he lost them.

A muffled voice behind him caused Eugene to turn, seeing the familiar figure in the doorway. He dismissed the private, instructing him to rest as much as possible. He whipped his hands in the spare cloth he carried, “How’s da leg?”

“It is okay. I try to rest it when I can,” she smiled at him and Eugene found his heart beating a little faster.

“Good. That’s good. How’s da hand?”

“It is good too,” she laughed, limping across the barn towards him with a basket tucked under her arm. “I was looking for you. I wanted to thank you for the other day, for your kindness.”

“Please, there ain’t no need. It’s ma job,” Eugene protested but the girl silenced him, placing her fingers to his lips.

“No, your job is to look after the soldiers, looking after me was an act of kindness.”

Eugene blushed, his eyes going cross-eyed as he watched the placement of her finger on his lips.

“Thank you,” she quickly removed his finger and pecked his lips. It was barely a kiss, his mind barely registering the action before it was over. The blush covering their cheeks and the smile on both their lips meant everything.

“I also bought you some food, it’s not a lot but you can share it with your friends if you wish,” she passed the basket towards him and Eugene gratefully accepted.

“Your kindness is too much Ma’am, how will I ever repay ya?”

“You saved my life, it is I who should be in your debt,” she replied, a delighted smile playing at her lips, as Eugene thought of a reply.

“Well, what about if I write to ya and umm… you can write to me too if you’d like,” Eugene watched nervously as the girl thought over his proposition.

“Oui. I would like this very much,” she grinned at him, before throwing her arms around his neck. “And maybe after the war is over you will come back, back here to see me again?”

“Of course, if you’ll wait for me.”

“I will wait for you,” she replied adamantly, nodding her head and Eugene felt himself smiling again. He’d never felt this way before about anyone but this girl he’d stumbled upon seemed to change that and he didn’t want her to leave.

“Wait! Ma’am, I don’t even know ya name. Will ya at least tell me that?”

She smiled at him mischievously before replying, “Write to me first American Boy, then I know you are true to your word. Then you may have my name.”

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @ronald-speirs @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike @malarkgirlypop @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt

[rin-and-jade]

A Cup, and A Thread: A Post About System Communication

Hey, you know classic string telephone? The one made with two plastic cups and a piece of yarn, i suppose you recognize that old-school science toy? It's one of the simplest inventions that showcases how messages are sent from one place to another!

This little invention is very fitting to explain how inner communication works, so i hope today's theme of analogy will help you understand all of my messages im about to share, with a twist of a fiber.

There's a lot of things i want to address on this topic, thanks to all my 8 great friends who had helped me gather a variety of insights on what seems to be the problem, i have the answers right here that will be shared to the community, because of them!

You know what communication is?

I sure do, but let's both revise on what it means, according to Merriam-Webster, it's defined as..

"a process by which information is exchanged between individuals through a common system of symbols, signs, or behavior."

It also means "a technique for expressing ideas effectively."

..Alright, we should be in the same page now, but, do we actually know what counts as 'good' communication in system context? After some examination from the given data, it was a resounding "No." This can also mean many may not have a clear idea on it, which will also be addressed.

Okay, tell me please?

Before i do tell, remember that communication is diverse, with no perfect or right way to do so. Just like animals, where different species use unique methods to pull it off, means can systems have their own unique styles too.

There are a few examples we see in animals; like how some use pheromones to talk to its own kind, while some read off from their signature body languages, and some use tones or cues that is meant to be recognized specifically, to each their own meanings.

So, good communication means ensuring that everyone in the system can understand and receive messages effectively which eases functioning and cooperation, regardless of how frequent or indirect the communication may be.

For us, systems have unique internal methods of communication that are based on how our brains function, not having any unique features in animals. These methods are very personal, so find what works best for you.

Here are the common styles so far:

Verbal: Where you talk aloud, or in a media like notes.

Abstract vibes: Where you speak no words, which encompasses feelings, or concepts, or ideas, that can be "felt" instead of heard or seen.

Images: Where the share of messages are conveyed through memories, expressive actions or symbols that are projected in the mind.

Direct thoughts: Where an internal dialogue is present, parts communicate using this inner voice, that can vary in different accents and intonations.

The media represents a lot of the stereotypical kind, direct thoughts, while the rest are less recognized. These four kinds are not limited to, but are the ones often represented, they are equally as important and real.

It's important to note that alters within a system can have different communication styles, or the collective may share the same style. You can't force yourself to use a particular kind, so focus on practicing and mastering your style.

..But there's many problems!

Which is why it's a good idea to educate yourself and find proper solutions in order to resolve them. I know some of them at best, as there might be issues i have not heard of, though will still be shared.

Consider a clear communication between two alters with an example of both cups, connected to the string with no obstructive noise at the background while exchanging messages, one conveys the content clearly, and the other hears and received with maximum clarity/understanding. This will be our main example that will be used to compare with the problems that usually arise in this topic.

The problem with multi-talking

Now, to explain interruptions from another part would be like having an extra string-attached cup tied to the middle of the initial cup, now with two inputs and one receiver, the messages will overlap each other and become obscured.

This can be resolved by being aware, then slowing down when talking and take turns between each other to avoid clashes which can easily overwhelm or confuse the receiver, or even the sender itself since losing track of thought or words can happen.

The problem with worser performance from stress

When stress happens, this can sometimes mess up your state to receive messages, imagine that outwards stressors had pulled and tugged your thread, now a bit twisted out and weak, which still can be used to communicate and hear, but now in a weaker clarity.

Because parts communicate mostly from internal ways, our brain networks are responsible to allow when activities inside (that doesn't necessarily involve system things) can happen. Just like how imagination runs in a mind that's wandering off, stress alerts you instead, snapping off from any safe or calm activities until the 'threat' is resolved.

You can gain temporary clarity by calming yourself down and bring all your focus to send your messages if any responds, if it doesn't happen, it would be best to wait it out until you naturally feel at ease once more, or solve the issue at hand and try again afterwards.

This may not work when you are in a fight or flight response, if you do got cutted off and need to contact anyone from inside, try using strong triggers to probe a response.

The problem with ineffective communication

It is like talking to a part who uses a rubber strand instead of cotton string as its mediator. Threads can conduct finer vibrations that can preserve the original verbal message, while rubber can represent for those who use vibes, as they're more broad and less specific. So if they attempt to talk to you with rubber, you might not receive it's message well,

This can be solved with having another part that are flexible or able to decipher, or find the middle ground where both can exchange better. (e.g. texts)

The problem of talking outside your subgroup

This is where it gets tricky, because there is a notable difference in communication where it's easier to converse inside your group while it's harder to converse outside of your group. What i mean by group is they are the people you meet and talk the most and have easy time communicating.

Imagine that the same group has the same length of the thread, the shorter, the better it retains or transfers message with no effort. Talking outside of your group would require you an extra pair of string telephone, but this time the thread is long as you're talking to another neighboring group, who isn't directly related with you.

Suggestions varies from trying different medias to contact with and see what works best, or rely on someone who have direct relations with the group you mean to interact with, acting as a bridge. Lowering barriers by consenting to get closer in co-conscious might do the trick too. Long term solution would be building ties to strengthen communication. (can also work with layers, better if you can 'travel' there to get direct interactions)

The problem with front and innerworld disconnection

It is normal to be out of contact from the inside when you're fronting, since this would mean you put down the cup to focus doing task or role job. To remedy this, try finding a moment to sit down or close your eyes, and feel yourself going back to your mind, since in order to contact those inside, you must lightly disconnect from the real world to focus better inwards.

The problem with having aphantasia

As if you heard the noise from the cup, but you're not sure where that sound is coming from nor aware of your surroundings as this condition blinds you visually (can vary from mild to severe, blurry/vague mental images to blank respectively).

Your innerworld is still there, using visualization is one way to immerse in, start relying on your tactile awareness, or your 'radar' that is, since it is possible to detect parts in your proximity. Rely on tangible medias such as texting or notes to keep track of things.

The problem with external noise

Having a comorbid of something, such as ADHD, autism, or OCD can create a mental chatter that exists in the background constantly.. if not most of the time, imagine that the location of the telephone is somewhere bustling, now it is harder to tell which one is intrusive, random chatters, or an alter's voice.

There is not a lot to say except learning how to separate those noises from your people, it is done best by slowing down and voice your messages wide and clear to create a distinction from such background chatter, making it easier to differentiate.

Other conditions like depression and anxiety can also affect the clarity and ease of communicating.

The problem with distinguishing others

For those with comorbids and aphantasia, this can make it much harder, though still possible! One last problem with communication is sometimes not knowing who is who, which creates obstacles in different ways. Imagine that there are multiple cups lined up to you as the receiver, this creates difficulty on pinpointing whose speaking. Thus, having problems on replying back or made sure if the first sentence relate to the second one, or it belonged to someone else.

The only solution there is, has to be a long term one. As you're suggested to slowly collect and recognize different speech pattern, assigned vibes of other parts, when they usually reply or what topics/mentions brings them up, and different accents or tone if any.

It is not required to 'know' physical attributes or what they look like, but this one will help a ton and usually the easiest way in distinguishing who is who. The solution is to go through a trial and error (arrange all the attributes you like/feel connected to, and see what sticks) and document all the findings somewhere, incase you're forgetful/difficulty memorizing.

Special mentions

It is worth knowing that communication is greatly affected by your state of mind + physical health, the conditions you have, the maturity of the alter in communicating skills, and the style you or the collective dominantly have.

That being said, having the same role, or source, or how old or new an alter is doesn't generally affect the ease of exchanging messages.

Lastly, inner communication also obeys similar rules to how conversation works in real life, this can be taken from examples:

The proximity of the talker you're with affects how much you can understand what is being said. It makes sense that you need to focus harder to hear what the mumbles meant when they're further away from you.

Being with people you can vibe along always results in a better and more effective exchange, as you don't have to explain twice for them to get the message. (mutual understanding)

How loud the environment is also affects how focused/undisturbed you are within a conversation, and it takes effort to separate the background noise to catch what they're saying.

People also have their own ways of expressing their message, some are more dominant in body language or etc. This is why it is important to recognize and understand what it means. You will always have your own dominant way of socializing, but this doesn't mean you can't learn other ways, partially.

Now comprehending the concept of system communication does become easier, right? This should serve as a good framework to start building and understanding connections.

One last phone call

I hope everything i have said here has been loud and clear, if there is a problem that has not been mentioned that needs fixing, give this string telephone a tug and i'd answer your call alright?

May this post address all the things you need more than a hotline help centre and leave with full satisfaction.

If you please, i will now indulge in the whole history of telephone strings, join me if you wish! Did you know it's originally made of tin can instead of a plastic cup?

-- The next post that will be out: all about introjection. Stay tuned!

- j

[raelle-writing]

Non is NOT a perfect victim

Or: The meta that will likely get me canceled lmao

Disclaimer: I am not victim blaming Non. I'm not saying that he deserves what happened to him. I'm simply tired of everyone acting like he has no agency and has never done anything wrong. Non was written to be a gray character the same as the others.

I think a lot of people write off the bad ways that Non acted, either because they view the ways he harms others as "not that bad"... or view his actions as being fair or just because of the people they impact. But regardless, the writers clearly wrote Non to make mistakes, hurt the people around him, and not be a perfect victim.

Getting his "friends" involved in money laundering

It would be easy to say that Non didn't know what he was doing was illegal. But he definitely did. Tee brought Non to an illegal casino, hidden behind a restaurant.

Gambling is illegal in Thailand. Non knows in that moment that what he's doing is wrong, and he jumps into the deep end anyway. I'm not making a judgement on him choosing to work with Tee for money - I understand why he did it.

The thing is, Tee basically told Non what he was getting into. Taking him to the illegal casino, laying it all out what they were doing. Non knew he was getting involved in something illegal when he started working with Tee. Non more than likely felt like he had no choice, since he couldn't ask his parents for help, of course.

But Non doesn't do that when he recruits his friends. He blatantly lies to them, telling them it's all for filming, and then uses the accounts they opened for money laundering.

Then, because of the way that Non and the mafia are using the accounts, Jin, Fluke, and Por all got pulled in by the police and questioned. And I know people hate the bullies - but those three aren't the ones that deserved to get arrested at this point in the narrative.

Non covers for them and says it was all on him (truthfully) but it's also out of self-preservation since Tee warned him that he'd be killed if he told the truth.

Lying to and gaslighting his boyfriend

Then we get to the introduction of Phee as Non's boyfriend. And on the surface, they have a happy, cute relationship. But then we go below the surface, and we discover they have issues. Phee is always pushing Non and trying to help him, despite the fact that Non hasn't asked for his help, and doesn't want it. And in return, Non repeatedly lies to Phee.

He starts episode 7 by promising he won't do that, promising he won't lie to Phee.

And within the same episode, Non does exactly that. He lies to Phee's face after Phee catches him with Keng. There's debate on whether or not Non slept with Keng here (I'm personally under the impression that he did, since his shirt is untucked, but we don't know for sure). But regardless, Phee asks Non what was going on, and Non lied to him.

Phee calls him on the pieces of his lie (and yes, I've seen people saying "Phee didn't trust Non!" and yeah, he doesn't, because clearly they have a history of Non lying to Phee). And Non proceeds to turn the entire thing around on Phee, making it about Phee having trust issues and not trusting him.

This is gaslighting. Non flips the script and turns the accusation back to Phee, making Phee the one who is in the wrong because he doesn't trust Non, despite catching Non doing something wrong and suspecting that he's lying.

"(Gaslighting is the) psychological manipulation of a person usually over an extended period of time that causes the victim to question the validity of their own thoughts, perception of reality, or memories and typically leads to confusion, loss of confidence and self-esteem, uncertainty of one's emotional or mental stability, and a dependency on the perpetrator." Definition, Merriam Webster

While gaslighting is usually chronic, that doesn't mean there can't be individual cases. And given the ease with which Non lies to Phee, and the way Phee knows in the past that Non withholds things and makes him promise not to lie, we can tell that Non's lying is a chronic problem in their relationship.

I want to point out here that a lot of Non's actions are signs of hyper-independence which is a trauma response. It's clear that Non has been abused and isolated his entire life and has no framework to know how to ask for help. He "knows" (because of his upbringing) that he can't rely on the people around him, and that help never comes without a price. I don't want to paint him as a villain, he's not just yanking Phee around for the fun of it. But people who are hurt, abused, and in bad situations can and do still hurt other people. Non's hurt doesn't erase the wrong he does to Phee.

Further manipulation of Phee

Non shows further manipulative signs when Phee catches him with Keng. (I will address the cheating thing later but for the purpose of this section - Non was coerced into sex so we as the audience shouldn't label it as cheating, however from Phee's point of view that's clearly what it was).

When Phee catches Non with Keng, the first thing that Non does is apologize, which is good. However, he immediately follows that up by telling Phee to calm down, and telling him that he loves him.

Telling Phee to "stop being upset" implies that Phee is too upset, and that he's not acting rationally. Following that up with "I love you" is designed to slide through the weak spot in Phee's armor. This exchange shoves Phee's emotions to the sidelines and centers Non's instead.

This manipulation is much lighter than the gaslighting earlier, but still made me wince when I saw it. Non is belittling Phee's emotions and trying to recenter it all on Non's love for Phee, because that matters "more" than the hurt and pain that Phee is experiencing. Non is working in CYOA mode - that's another trauma response. He's used to being the target when people are angry, so he's trying to deflect it and make himself the victim. It's a trauma response, but it's still a manipulation.

Planning to murder his friends

This is one of the ones that I point to as "I think people gloss over this because they think the bullies deserve it." But I want to point out that pre-meditating to murder people is still a bad thing to do. Non made a plan, brought a weapon into the woods, and then proceeded to try and kill everyone there.

We can debate whether he could've actually gone through with it - he cuts Top and tries to kill Tee, but then when Jin jumps forward to apologize, Non calms and doesn't swing at Jin. That may very well be because he doesn't know what Jin has done - but despite not knowing those things, Non still crossed out Jin's face and planned his death in the script.

I don't know if, when push came to shove, Non could've actually killed any of them. But regardless of that, he planned to, and hurt some of them.

Again, does that mean he deserves to be sold off to the mafia? NO. Of course not! I just want to point out that premeditated murder is bad.

A note on "cheating"

I mentioned this above, but I want to linger on the point about cheating. Because while I stand by that Non was coerced and assaulted, and therefore we as the audience shouldn't label it as cheating, I still feel like it's important to point out that everyone in the narrative treats it as cheating.

No one - Jin, Phee, Non's parents, etc. treat Non sleeping with Keng as if it's assault. Non doesn't seem to understand he was assaulted either (which is normal for victims of grooming).

Phee and Jin in particular react to Non as if he was cheating on Phee. Their actions are shaped by that assumption.

Should they have seen what happened and known it was wrong? Maybe. But I also did some research onto the laws in Thailand and I'm not actually certain that Keng did anything illegal, since Thailand's age of consent is 15 and there's some murky language in their coercion laws (big ass disclaimer that I'm only able to read things in English and so I'm not reasonably certain it's accurate, but it's the only information that I have access to).

I am reasonably certain that the only person who could've brought charges against Keng was Non, but I'm not certain that he would've had a case (again, because of some murky language).

Obviously that regardless of legality, Keng's actions are still morally wrong. I just want to lend some perspective on why people may have reacted the way they did to the event.

In conclusion: Non is a victim, but not a perfect one

Non is still the ultimate victim in the narrative of the show. He's still the one whose life was destroyed, who was victimized repeatedly by the people around him. But I don't want people to forget that he also made mistakes of his own. Because I'm kind of tired of people acting like anyone who sympathizes with a character other than Non is "missing the point."

Non was written to be a gray character, just like Tee, Jin, Por, Phee, and the others. All of the characters have made mistakes. Have acted selfishly, have hurt the people around them, have done illegal things, etc. The difference is that Non's life is the only one who got ruined. Until the present, of course...

Disclaimer that I'm not saying that all of the characters are the same level of gray, there's obviously a bit of a sliding scale there!

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 39 - Epilogue: Donadagohvi

Summary: She studies her husband’s face. It’s lined with age, but still as beautiful and as bright as the day she met him. A/N: Alright, y'all - we've made it! But before we get started, I've got some things I have to say. This fic was started during a very strange era. I hated what was going on in my life but didn't know how to fix any of it. Long story short, but I decided to run away one day, and ended up in Toccoa. While standing in the military museum there, I started thinking about Deborah Sampson (a childhood hero of mine), and wondered what would happen if a story like hers happened during WW2 - specifically, if she was a paratrooper. Thus, Zenie appeared in my brain, and this epilogue wrote itself in my mind as I went through the museum. I was never sure if I would share this fic until the second that I hit "post." Zenie was just a way for me to blow off steam, to escape - to fulfill my desire to be someone else for a bit. (Coincidentally, all themes throughout the fic.) I didn't know how people would respond to this story, or to this character, and I only ever had the courage to start uploading chapters because of friends like @latibvles and @liebgotts-lovergirl who showed enthusiasm for it. So I couldn't upload this chapter without a massive sgi (thank you) to them, as well as to everyone else who has read this fic and been so kind to it, and to me. Thank you for welcoming me into this fandom. Thank you for allowing me to share the Cherokee language with you. Thank you for all the support you've given me for both my writing, and as friends. Whether you knew it or not, all that kindness came at a time when I really needed it, and I appreciate you all. Without further ado, here's the last laglam update, in which the fic's title finally makes sense. Much love 💖 Warnings: language, alcohol Taglist: @latibvles @liebgotts-lovergirl @lady-cheeky @dcyllom @mads-weasley @ithinkabouttzu @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs

Eugene looks just the same as he did when Zenie first met him. So do all the other men on this side of the reunion. For her part, she also looks the way she did when she first met all of them – albeit like a girl rather than like a man. For now, her hair is long, and her chest unbound.

No one seems to have figured out why they all look young again, and it has only been mentioned in passing during the reunions. There are better things to do, like visit with those they can, and pass between the ones they left behind, feeling their hearts swell with love as they watch them laugh, watch them remember – watch them live.

Another thing that no one has figured out is why they seem able to come back to this world at certain times. David Webster says he once read that the veil between their worlds thins during certain times of the year, and that maybe this is true of the Easy Company reunions. Zenie, however, likes to believe that it’s the love of the people still living who allow them to come back. All that love with nowhere to go. Love so strong that remembering the people you felt it for brings them back.

No time to wonder now, though. Gene is already smiling at her in greeting.

“Hello again,” he greets as she joins him.

“Gene,” she teases him with an affectionate poke to his ribs. “You haven’t aged a day since I met you in forty-two!”

“Eh, I don’t know about that, Tommy Boy,” Luz’s confident drawl digresses as the radioman swaggers up beside her. “You look a little taller. What, did you finally hit puberty or something?”

Zenie rolls her eyes, but there’s no malice to it. She did, after all, keep him in the dark about her secret until her very last day in Europe. Instead of leading him on, she asks, “How does everyone look?”

“Us? The same as ever. Them? – “ Luz gestures towards the reunion that can’t see them. “ – Well, I guess they’re aging with grace.”

“Have you seen – “

“Bill and Babe are at the bar, as per usual. And your darling husband is somewhere around the middle.”

Zenie takes a step forward before turning quickly to face her friends. “Do y’all mind if I . . . ?”

Gene smiles. “Go ahead. That’s why we’re here.”

Grateful, Zenie takes off through the crowd. Visiting her friends like this is something she always looks forward to, but visiting those she left behind is a rarer treat, and she would like to check up on them. Especially Shifty. 

Bill and Babe – to no one’s surprise – are the easiest to find. They’ve got the bartender in stitches with their jokes, and their own accented guffaws are like a lighthouse cutting through the crowd that makes them easy to navigate towards.

“Siyo, boys!” Though they can’t see or hear her, Zenie takes a seat beside them at the bar. “What’s new with y’all?”  

“They’re drinking everyone under the table, as usual,” a familiar voice beside her announces as none other than Joe Toye takes a seat beside her. His expression is just as relaxed and confident as when they were young, but as he watches their living friends, something like longing flickers behind his eyes. “Too bad that we can’t show them who the real champs are anymore.”

“At least we can visit them.”

Joe nods, smiling sadly. “You made your rounds yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, we got time,” her friend assures her. They have nothing but time, actually. And they use it to sit with their friends, laughing along with their jokes and making their own, even though Bill and Babe can’t hear them.

As their jokes turn to remembrances, Zenie finds herself swept up in Babe’s retelling of the time she chucked an apple at Cobb’s head back in Holland. She barely remembers the scene, able to recall only a flash of anger and a split-second decision. Babe’s version is far better – he paints her out to be some sort of knight in shining armor coming to defend the honor of her friends.

Bill shakes his head and chuckles into his drink. “Goddamn. Zee sure could make a scene.”

“You weren’t even there when her secret got out,” Babe notes. “Now that was a scene!”

“No one ever brings it up,” Bill marvels, his eyes roaming over the crowd, searching for something. “You would think everyone would talk about it all the time. I mean – shit! A woman disguised herself as a man and made it from Toccoa to the bitter end before she got found out, and no one at the reunions brings it up.”

Zenie can’t help but smile at that. It’s true – her secret got out, she had to leave in a state of semi-disgrace, but at the Easy reunions, she was usually only acknowledged as Shifty’s wife. Sure, every now and then someone would tell a funny story about Sergeant Driver before throwing a knowing wink in her direction, but after all this time, it’s like they’re still keeping her secret for her. For her own part, she never brings up her service, except to mention in passing that she met her husband during the war. Even her own children seem to be under the impression that she must have been a nurse or a WAC, using that explanation to fill in the story’s blanks. Zenie never confirmed or denied their suspicions.

“Wish she were here,” Babe sighs. He orders another round of drinks, three this time, before placing one in front of the seemingly empty bar stool beside him – unknowingly, right in front of Zenie. He raises his own glass as he offers the last one to Bill. “To Zenie.”

Bill clinks his glass against Babe’s in a toast. “To Zenie.”

“To the best friends I ever had,” Zenie adds. During her last reunion – and even during the last year or so of her life – she could sometimes swear that she could feel a presence that she couldn’t explain. An unshakable feeling that those she loved who were already gone were somehow watching her would wash over her, though she could never explain why she felt that way. Now, she wonders if her friends feel that way about her. Just in case they do, she channels all her love into those words, hoping and praying that they can feel it.

As if on cue, the bittersweet moment ends when a woman with sleek, dark hair approaches the bar, smiling. “Uncle Babe! Are you ready?”

“Luna.” Zenie watches as her daughter throws an arm around each of the men at the bar, her smile just as bright as her father’s, outshining the sun itself.

“The real question is, are you?” Bill teases his goddaughter, cocking an eyebrow. “Don’t forget, kid, that your uncle is a champion jitterbug dancer.”

Luna sizes up the man in question. “Well, I’ve been practicing.”

“Don’t worry about her.” Babe takes one last sip of his drink and waves off Bill’s concerns. “Her mom could have been a champ, too. It’s in her genes; she’ll be fine.”

“The DJ said it’ll be the next song . . .” Luna begins explaining as she hooks her arm through her uncle’s and leads him towards the small dance floor.

Bill watches them go, chuckling to himself. “Real firecracker.” He glances at the drink set out in honor of Zenie. “God, I wish you were here, little brother. It’s not the same without you.”

“I am,” Zenie assures him. She’s only been gone for two years, but things have changed. That might have scared her once. Not anymore. “I have to go find Shifty. You don’t mind, do you?”

Bill doesn’t answer, of course, but it’s polite to ask all the same. Granny didn’t teach her to mind her manners for nothing.

Zenie weaves her way through the crowd of both the living and the dead. She greets several people, stops to exchange a handshake and a kind word, and sends a nod to those who she catches lurking at the edges of the room – people like Liebgott and Captain Speirs, who only show up in the margins of the reunions, watching, but never joining in. She needs to thank those two specifically at some point. But it’s like Joe said – they’ve got time.

As Luz promised, Shifty is seated at a table in the middle of the room. Their sons, Wayne and Willie, sit on either side of him, laughing along with some story that he, McClung, and Popeye are in the middle of telling. Zenie finds a space to stand behind her husband, being as present as she can. She places one hand on Wayne’s shoulder, and the other on Shifty’s.

At the moment of contact, Shifty’s posture stiffens, and his head turns slightly. Zenie freezes, like she’s just disrupted something. Has she? Can he feel her here?

Shifty only listens to the story being told halfheartedly now. He smiles and laughs in all the right places, but it’s obvious that he’s distracted. These reunions are supposed to be fun. Sure, they can get a little emotional at times, but she doesn’t want her husband missing out on her account. He’s still got a life to live. He needs to be in the present moment and enjoy it.

Zenie bends slightly so that she’s close to Shifty’s ear. She doubts anyone else at the table knows that she’s here, but she wants this to be a private moment for the two of them.

“Shifty,” she whispers. “I’m here. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay.” She has to pause for a moment to think about what she wants to say. It’s one thing to plan what you’re going to tell somebody, and another thing entirely to deliver the message. Sometimes things get lost in translation. She learned that during their break back in the war.

She studies her husband’s face. It’s lined with age, but still as beautiful and as bright as the day she met him. God, she misses him. She misses all of them.

“The boys look well,” she continues, looking between their sons. “I hope they’re taking care of you for me. They’ve always adored you.” She pats Shifty’s shoulder. She shouldn’t take up his attention too much longer. “Take your time. Enjoy it. I’ll be waiting for you, okay? I’ll see you soon, Shifty.”

Not sure if it will work, she plants a kiss on his cheek. When she pulls away, she watches as Shifty’s hand comes up to touch the place where they made contact. Maybe he really can feel her here.

“Gvgeyui,” Zenie says. I love you.

Gene is waiting at the edge of the crowd when she finds him again.

“How’d it go?” He asks.

Zenie nods. “Good. You?”

“Good.” Gene’s dark eyes flick over the crowd. “It’s nice we get to do this.”

It is nice. Bittersweet, mostly, but it’s good to see their loved ones again, even for a short time before they have to go back. But returning isn’t bad, either. The weather is always warm. And there are people she loves waiting for her there.

In fact, she should get going for exactly that reason. Granny wants to dig ramps soon, and Mama informed her that there would be a pie waiting upon her return. No matter which side of the gauzy veil she’s on, there is always someone waiting for her, and always a place that she belongs.

For strength, Zenie takes Gene’s hand and gives it a squeeze. He returns the gesture, and they begin to walk away from the crowd. But before they go, Zenie can’t help but glance back at Easy Company one last time. Her eyes, as always, land on Shifty. She’ll see him again. She’ll see them all again, in one way or another.

“Until we meet again,” Zenie informs them all, whether they can hear her or not. “Donadagohvi.”

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

Love for Duties Sake Part 3

AN: Hello loves and happy valentines day! Wow when I say I went literally feral writing this I mean I started writing it last night inspired by my bae @pinkwright and the words just flew out idk. Consider this a valentine's treat from me to you. I hope you all enjoy and MWAH theres a very big kiss for all of you. 

Summary: As the only daughter of Genelia, there were things you just had to do, and marrying the Queen of Wakanda was one of those things.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, guns, mentions of death and grieving, that’s it I think.

Word count: 3,744

Part 1.  Part 2.  Masterlist.  Taglist.

Suggested listening: Kingston - Faye Webster

“Every single word you say makes me feel some type of way It's the thought of you that slightly scares me But it takes my breath away, forget what I was gonna say The day that I met you, I started dreaming Now I write 'em down if I remember in the morning time”

The ride to the restaurant was quick, you didn’t even pay too much attention to your surroundings as you rode in the back of the SUV next to Shuri. Your mind was too preoccupied with what prompted her to ask you to dinner all of a sudden and why the prospect of spending quality time with her made you feel warm on the inside. That was why you didn’t recognize the path you’d traveled countless times until the car was parked right outside and Shuri was helping you out of the car. 

Taking your hand gently in hers as you stepped out, pulling your skirt down to maintain modesty in case any news outlets were there. And of course, they were, but they kept a decent distance away, while they snapped photos of the interaction between you and Shuri; fearful of Okoye, Aneka, and Ayo who flanked you two. Your mind finally made the connection as your eyes read over the name of the restaurant Mamie Bidoche. The same French-inspired quaint restaurant you practically lived in when you spent time in DC. 

“Shuri!” You squealed, overcome with excitement to be back at your favorite restaurant. Joy ran through your body and you couldn’t help but jump a little while you still held her hand. “How did you know about this place? Who told you about it?” 

Shuri wished she could take a photo of you right then and there with her kimoyo beads just so she could savor the genuine smile on your face. This was the smile she didn’t get to see often, the one you seemed to only reserve when talking to everyone except her. At that moment the Queen swore to do whatever she could to make sure that smile never left your face. “You mentioned it once in an interview when we were first courting, our second with Asha I believe.” 

Blush now added to the smile on your face as you recalled the interview. Asha asked where your favorite place to eat in the States was and you replied without hesitation Mamie Bidoche, saying that you’d sell your soul to have a plate of their food again. That was so long ago, how could she remember that? 

And that meant she was paying attention to you at the time too. For a long while you’d assumed Shuri had been zoning out during your interviews, not caring what you had to say until it was time for her to play the part of the doting wife. It was part of the reason you built up a dislike for her early in the relationship. But this disproved all of that, she had been listening. 

“And that one time I asked you for a hair tie, you told me I should light my hair on fire and offered me a matchbox from here,” Shuri added with a laugh for more emphasis on her point. You had forgotten about that time, not your brightest moment but still funny considering everything. 

“You remembered all that?” You asked, your smile had faded into a softer one but Shuri still found it beautiful. Your hand now only connected to hers through your fingertips, both refusing to let go of the other. 

“Of course sthandwa, why wouldn’t I? You’re my wife.” The response Shuri gave you made you almost feel silly for asking the question. 

Words didn’t feel like they could quantify your feelings so you simply wrapped your arms around Shuri’s neck and pulled her in close to you. Your reaction surprised Shuri but instinctively she wrapped her arms around your waist pressing your body against hers. The cameras snapped, capturing the pure moment between you two. Ayo, Aneka, and Okoye all shared a knowing glance, taking this moment as confirmation of Aneka’s previous theory. “Thank you,” You whispered as you pulled away, the soft smile never leaving your face. 

“Nothing to thank me for my love,” Shuri replied, matching your smile. The sound of cameras shuttering reminded Shuri that even though this was a private moment between the two of you, it was subject to be blasted all over the internet at any moment. Plus the sound of one camera that seemed to be clicking more rapidly than others was starting to make her uncomfortable. “Do you maybe want to go inside now?” 

You could sense the nervousness in Shuri’s voice, you couldn’t figure out what brought it on but you wanted to do your best to make it go away. Grabbing her hand you replied with a smile “Yes,” before dragging her into the restaurant with Ayo, Aneka, and Okoye tailing behind. 

The interior looked just as you remembered it, small and homey with a clear view of the kitchen so you could watch your food be prepared and cooked. Typically lunchtime in DC meant this place was packed but strangely no one else was there aside from the chefs and the waiter who guided you to your table. Shuri held out your chair and pushed you in, sitting in the same corner you sat in when you would come all those years ago. 

“Did you have this place shut down?” You ask seriously once Shuri takes her seat across from you at the table. 

Unfolding the napkin into her lap she chuckled. “And what if I did?”

You groan and shoot her a look she’s familiar with, level one annoyance. “Shuri,” You state firmly. “You can’t just buy out a restaurant for the two of us, they’re going to lose money!”

“My love,” Shuri scoffed. “It is not just the two of us. Aneka, Okoye, Ayo.” She called the names of the three Dora’s and they all came to your table in an instant. Quite frankly you sometimes found their haste and devotion a little scary, they were always popping up places in the blink of an eye. 

“Yes, my Queen?” Ayo spoke first. 

You and Shuri maintained eye contact while she spoke to Ayo. You were curious about what she would say and she was determined to prove a point. 

“The three of you grab a table together. Take advantage of this fine cuisine my wife raves so much about.”

Okoye tried to refuse. “Our job is to be focused on you, having a meal would only distract us.” 

This time you spoke up. “Take a break please, all three of you. You work so tirelessly to protect us all the least you could do is eat lunch. On Shuri’s dime of course.” You added the last part in and caught the smile that Aneka tried to fight.

The three women all looked at each other deciding if they were going to comply or not. One swift head nod from Okoye confirmed that you had won them over. All three walked away and sat at a table far enough away to not disturb you but still close enough that they could keep an eye out in case anything went awry.

“Five people are not the same amount of money as a DC lunch rush.” You remarked. Level two annoyance detected.  

“Did you wear that skirt for me?” Shuri asked seemingly ignoring your comment in favor of talking about something she wanted to discuss. 

“What? No, I wore it 'cause I like skirts.” Eying Shuri up and down you continued. “We’re hurting their profit margins, Shuri.”

“I don’t like it when you say my name like that. Shuri.” She repeated the way you said her name. “So much contempt, I used to think you might actually hate me.” 

Your wife's comments made you pause and you took a sip of water while you digested your thoughts. “Shuri,” It came more softly from your mouth this time. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said? We can’t just shut a place down for five people. 

The Queen sighed, as much as she loved her wife's strong will it was times like this that she wished you would just drop things. “Of course, I have listened to what you said, I didn’t just shut the place down. I’m paying double what they normally make per hour for however long we’re here, plus a tip for taking on Ayo, Aneka, and Okoye.” 

“Oh,” You said quietly. 

“Mhm,” Shuri replied, taking a sip of her own water. “Now are you ready to drop this so we can have a nice lunch?” 

“Yes.” 

The conversation flowed well between you and Shuri. She was able to delve into some details about current council debates that were stressing her and you offered your insight on how to best achieve what she was looking for. You made everything seem so simple and Shuri appreciated it in contrast to how she overthought everything. The conversation died down as you two finished the last bites of the meal, savoring every drop of sauce left on your plate. 

Shuri nibbled the inside of her lip and pushed the remaining food around her plate as she watched you. Something was on her mind and you knew it. 

“Out with it already.” You commanded dabbing the napkin at the edge of your mouth. Shuri’s confused face only made you laugh. “This marriage thing means we’ve spent a lot of time together, willingly or unwillingly. I can tell when something is on your mind so spill, let it out.

The young royal shifted in her seat, unaware of how obvious her actions had been. She was so used to being able to pick up on everyone else’s patterns of behavior due to her enhanced abilities but never had someone picked up on hers. Thinking for a moment, she shook her head no. “It’s too personal, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. Especially after the beautiful lunch we had.” 

“Shuri, we’re married, if I really don’t want to, I just won’t answer.” Your response was simple and Shuri appreciated that. 

“You um never talk about Genelia?” It came out like a question more than a statement like it was intended. “I noticed that today, when the President’s idiot self brought it up you, seemed almost a little upset. Is there a reason you don’t want to talk about it?” 

You tensed up once Shuri finished her sentence, in all honesty, Genelia was not on your list of topics you wanted to discuss today, or any day for that matter. But the way Shuri spoke, her question seemed genuine like she wanted to really know what happened. 

Clearing your throat you started. “Genelia and I have a complicated relationship, a majority in part due to my parents. I’m sure you know from interviews and just the public perception of me pre us, I hadn’t been home in years. I lived between France and the United States comfortably I might add for the end of my teen years. What you don’t know however is what made me leave for so long.” You paused here allowing yourself to breathe, these aren't memories you revisited often. 

“I know I say a lot that I’m the only daughter of Genelia but that’s technically not true, I’m the only living daughter of Genelia.” 

A look of confusion danced across Shuri’s face, she knew you had plenty of siblings but never had you mentioned a sister. You constantly cracked jokes in interviews about how growing up surrounded by all boys made you tough, so to hear about this mystery sister didn’t quite add up. 

“Her name was Yara and she was only a year older than me. We did everything together, she was my best friend and we didn’t spend a day apart. I mean I think my mother had to get us separate rooms because I would crawl into bed with her at night.” That smile Shuri had seen earlier crept back up on your face as you reminisced on the good times with your older sister. Imagining what she would say if she saw you now all grown up and married. 

“But Yara you know, she was too good for this world I think, that’s the only justification I can come up with. Her little body just wasn’t built to hold all the light she had, she was too much for it. Over the years she became weaker and weaker. And when I was sixteen she uh passed.” The memory of the day she finally passed still stuck out in your mind, how your parents kept you from her until the last minute. How you sat and held all of your tears because you knew Yara didn’t like to see you cry. Her death had been a long drawn-out process and it had been painful to watch your sibling slowly deteriorate.  

“My parents didn't really know how to let me grieve like I should’ve been able to. We fought almost every day, just over the stupidest shit. Eventually, they pulled me aside and said I was becoming a bad influence on my younger siblings, that I used Yara’s death as an excuse to act up.” Your voice got quieter as you continued speaking. “My parents told me they had other children to raise, other children to help grieve and I was getting in the way of that. They sent me to France the very next morning.” 

Shuri looked at you with the first expression of hers that you couldn’t track. There was a sadness in her eyes but the corners of her lips were tight as if she was mad. “I am sorry to have made you dredge up something so personal, sthandwa.” Reaching across the table she took your hand in hers rubbing it soothingly. “Yara sounds like she was a beautiful girl and an amazing older sister. I am sorry that your parents didn’t allow you to grieve her properly, I know how important that process is.”  

At that moment, looking Shuri in her eyes while she held your hand in hers, you never felt closer to her. Not when you two shared your first kiss in front of millions on your wedding day, not during the countless interviews you too had done, not even during the rare times you did share a laugh when you were both home. No, none of those times compared to the connectedness you experienced with your wife at that moment. It scared you how being this connected made you want to be vulnerable to Shuri, you couldn’t let that happen, to tell all of your secrets to her after just one dinner. 

You broke eye contact and Shuri took that as a sign to pull her hand away from yours. “It’s okay, I’m not as upset as I used to be about it. Honestly, I’ve been thinking I might want to go back someday.” You said the statement so casually but Shuri’s eyes shot up from the table. 

“What?” 

“I think I might wanna go back someday, to Genelia.” You repeated. 

“No, my love, I heard you, I just can’t understand why you would want to go back to a country that treated you so poorly.” Shuri’s comments made sense and you nodded.

“I’m not saying tomorrow Shuri,” You were careful how you said her name remembering her earlier comments. “I just mean before I die you know? I’ve still got siblings over there that I need to repair things with.” 

The morbidity of your comments got Shuri’s eyes rolling but she understood your sentiment nonetheless. The end of your comment piqued her interest but she decided against asking as she had already made you delve into your personal life. The queen allowed a few beats to pass, just admiring your beauty before she spoke, “I have to say entle I enjoyed this dinner with you.” 

Shuri’s comments made you smile from ear to ear. “Thank you lovely, I did too.” 

Lovely? That was the first honorific you had ever used for her when a camera wasn’t present. Shuri couldn’t help the blush that crept onto her cheeks, you thought she was lovely? 

“A shame it has to come to an end though, maybe we could do this more when we’re back home?” Shuri asked the question hesitantly as she rose from her chair holding her hand out to you. 

Now it was your turn to blush. The idea of getting to spend quality time with Shuri, uninterrupted like you just did, was a dream you honestly thought was never going to be possible. You took her hand as you stood. “I would love that, but who says that we have to end it here?” 

“What do you mean?” Shuri asked, still holding onto your hand. 

“Yes, what do you mean my Queen?” Okoye was very quickly approaching you and Shuri with Aneka and Ayo flanking either side of her. Shit, trying to convince Shuri of your plan would be easy, but getting it passed those three would be a difficult process. 

“I just mean there's a walk-up ice cream shop, not even a block from here. Like literally right up the street. You batted your eyelashes at Shuri. “We could all get ice cream before we go, my treat!” 

Shuri laughed at you and you couldn’t tell if it was because the idea of you paying for something was comical or if it was because you thought Okoye was going to go for it. 

“No,” Okoye answered simply, blinking at you unfazed by the puppy dog eyes you were trying to give her. “The area hasn’t been swept; there is no way for us to ensure your safety.” 

“And we’ve been in one unsecure location for too long, our whereabouts could be known by anyone at this point,” Ayo added to strengthen Okoye’s point. 

“It was secure enough for all of us to have a meal.” You argued back, the taste of the insane flavor combinations the shop was known to mix up already on your tongue. “It’s a Mom and Pop ice cream shop, just one scoop and we’re done!” 

Shuri shifted in her heels, rocking back and forth trying to decide if this was worth it. On the one hand, Okoye and Ayo were right, her last-minute decision to take you out here had caused a lot of disruptions to their normal security protocol. And the pictures that had been taken of you two had surely already made their round through the internet meaning your location was public. It was a risky idea. But on the other hand there you were, blinking up at her with your beautiful brown eyes, the ghost of that smile appearing on your lips as you anticipated her response. How could she say no to that? 

“One scoop can’t hurt can it?” She turned to Okoye who stared back at Shuri dumbfounded. 

“My queen, I cannot advise that this is the safest decision.” Okoye was always honest with Shuri. “But if you two insist, we can do ONE scoop in a cup for you to take back on the jet. Deal?” 

You squealed in excitement for the second time in the day. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You repeated the statement over and over to Shuri and Okoye who watched you with boredness and amusement respectively. 

The three women escorted you and Shuri out of the restaurant after Shuri had paid, you watched her leave a healthy tip on both of the tables before leaving. Just as you promised right up the block there was an ice cream shop with just two windows, one to order and the other one to pick up your cone. You stood reading over the menu, mulling over what you were going to get when Okoye’s voice cut in. 

“You two hurrying up would be ideal. I do not like how exposed we are right now.” Okoye stood directly next to Shuri, while Aneka and Ayo had disappeared, presumably protecting you and Shuri from other areas of attack. 

Hearing Okoye’s words, Shuri wrapped her hand around your waist and gently pushed you in front of her so that her back was to the street and you were shielded. The gesture made you blush, she was always so protective of you. 

“I’ll have one scoop of your double chocolate coffee crunch in a cup please.” You said to the white man behind the counter who gave you a curt nod. His being there felt a little funny to you, you could have sworn this was a black-owned business who specialize in hiring specifically previously incarcerated black people. Although to be fair it had been years since you’d been there, their policies could have changed due to demand or the job market. 

“And I’ll have just a scoop of your chocolate please, in a cup as well,” Shuri added in behind you before placing her card to pay before you could bring yours out. She quelled your protests with a quick kiss on your forehead. 

You two stood off to the side while you waited for your ice cream. Shuri’s arms had now moved to rest around your neck, pulling you against her once again with her chin resting on top of your head. Take full advantage of the height difference between you two even though it wasn’t that big. You felt safe like this, wrapped up in her. 

The bell dung signified your order was ready and before Shuri could move to get it, you were already slipping out of her arms making your way over to pick it up. All of your attention was on Shuri as you turned away from the counter and stuck your tongue out at her. Earning a laugh from your wife, one of your favorite sounds.

You turned back to take the cups from the man but were instead met by the barrel of a gun aimed directly at you. Fear overtook you and the most you could get out was “Shuri!” before two shots rang out hitting you in the abdomen. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion after that, your body fell back against the concrete with a harsh thud. You blinked and Shuri was at your side, hands pressing kimoyo beads into your stomach. Another blink and you saw Okoye jumping through the window at the counter in an attempt to apprehend the man who had so carelessly tried to take your life. Your wife was speaking to you in jumbled sentences, mixtures between Xhosa and English. The recurring sentence you could make out was her plea to you,

 “Stay with me.” 

Taglist: @shuriszn @sokkasbae25 @verachii @cuddl3s4shur1 @takeyaki @jinnie10101 @letitias-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @beautybyfire @6-noir @mocha-aya @yvxmpire @mysticalmarss @ziayamikaelson @youralphawolf72 @n7cje @inmyheadimobsessed @shurisjournal @shurisbigtoe @saintwrld @pinkwright @chatitajens @playhousedistee @motheroffae @injeolmiee @tchhairbandhere 

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Drought Of Itchy Ears

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ 1 Corinthians 6:14 And God raised the Lord and will also raise us up by his power.

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VERSE OF THE DAY

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+ 2 Timothy 4:3 For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear.

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I DON’T HAVE ITCHY EARS

I AM READING MY WORD

I AM HEARING GOD

I AM WAITING FOR GOD

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READ TIME: 9 Minutes & 54 Seconds

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THOUGHTS:

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  This week, we glazed over the topic deceit: what is deceit? Webster's Dictionary says it means behavior deliberately intended to make people believe something untrue. One morning, while praying, I heard the Holy Spirit tell me this is one of the many spirits sweeping across this earth: deceit. He said people want pastors and teachers who will misrepresent the truth; they don’t want people who are grounded in the word. They want people that look or play the role, but that’s it, and when people meet people that won't misrepresent it, they don’t care to listen to it because you're in the last and evil days; people want teachers that will give them things for their itchy ears.

 2 Timothy 4:3 For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear.

    He said when these people hear the truth of what they are doing, they get angry because they know the truth is there, but they don’t want to hear it. They either pretend like it's not there or yield to God. He said people in this world yield to a lie, quicker then to the truth. He said Lui walked in the truth and teach the truth.

  2 Timothy 3:1-5 But mark this: There will be terrible times in the last days. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God— having a form of godliness but denying its power. Have nothing to do with such people.

   It says here , that there will be lovers of themselves. They will love themselves so much that they won't care about what's happening in their lives, whether right or wrong. Many of us know we are wrong and need God's strength, but some people feel that no matter what, they're right, and everyone else is wrong, including God. The Bible even says that some of them will have a form of godliness.

   That means they will be lukewarm Christians or not believers at all; they have their agenda. They will walk around thinking they know what is right, but they aren’t; they have no power and no access to God because they are too busy making themselves feel correct; the bible says don’t dabble around with these people; don’t be friends with them don’t talk to them don’t try to correct them beware if they aren’t listening to God why would they listen to you, so leave them be,

  Verse 7: always learning but never coming to a knowledge of the truth.

     These people you will see will always be reading, studying, and seeking things of knowledge, but knowledge won't be given to them because they don’t want the truth. They want a form of knowledge to seem like they are seeking Christ, and they are seeking another opportunity, another door to open that isn’t the truth; these same people will have a veil over their eyes; we talked about the veil, this veil is placed over the eyes of people that are not ready to accept the truth.

 2 Corinthians 3:14-16 But their minds were made dull, for the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed because it is only taken away in Christ. Even today, when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts.  But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away.

    See, their minds are dull, and the only way it's removed is by Christ, but when they turn to God, the veil will be taken away; God isn’t going to reveal himself to anyone who won't accept the truth; the deceitful person is always going to deny the power of God because they don’t want anyone telling them they are wrong with their mindset, their that they are wrong with their actions because if they listen and obtain the power of truth just for a minute, they will be offended, the people of this world is very offended quickly.

   That’s why if you ask some people if they have read their bible and not just GLAZE-OVER IT BUT TRULY READ over it. They’ll tell you no because we won’t find any error when we just read over it, BUT when we genuinely study the word. There's no room for maybes. There is no room for nothing because the bible doesn’t give us any wiggle room, and when we proclaim to be the sons and daughters of Christ, we must accept what Jesus says and what he's saying today. Deceit is something that is sweeping this country because people either accept something they don’t understand or listen to someone that doesn't make sense because then they DON’T have to accept the word of God.

 Verse 17: Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom

   Friends, it is freedom in the word of God. There is truth in it, and when we put on the armor of God or read the word of God, we will see that we can be set free from our sins. Many people want to be told it is okay to do this, it is okay to do that and blame this for this sin, but sin is sin. If you dabble in sin, you must let go of it or confess it quickly. When we don’t do either, we will stay deceived by everyone who tells us it is okay to do this, and they define it as okay to sin, and it is not okay to let sin stay active in our lives. We must deny the power of sin has over us and accept the truth of God!

    This week, we talked about how anything will slow down the anointing, and one of the reasons is that we have sin in our lives; the anointing won't flow in our lives with sin. We can think he will let it remain, but friends; he won't. God will remove this. He doesn’t have to let us keep it. Look at Saul; Saul had the kingdom snatched from his hands because he was disobedient. He was stripped of God’s anointing, and if we are going to continue in the lifestyle of sin, we will be stripped of it.

    We will have moments in our lives that we will go through, and sometimes, God wants us to be silent. Many of us can't be silent for 5 minutes, but God calls us to sit and wait for him to tell us when to speak and defend ourselves. We can't get so offended that we start talking when God says silence; the bible says, "The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.” The Lord will fight for us. All we must do is sit silent. God doesn’t want us to be a punching bag or a doormat, but he does want us to remain quiet in some situations so that he can protect us and make the situation right. If we are fussing, fighting, and doing everything else, we will permanently lose until we sit silent.

   One last thing we will discuss this week is vows or oaths—our no needs to be a no. We must live a lifestyle where people know we are telling the truth when they hear us speak. They don’t have to say to us do you swear; we should be at the place in our lives if we say no; people know we mean it, and if we say yes, they know we mean that too. To live this way is to live in a way that professes God. Don’t allow what people do or say to taint what you represent with God; our mouths need to be the salt of the earth, not the destruction of words.

 ***Today, we learned about deceit and how when we want to hear half the truth or no truth at all, we are trying to protect our feelings, but the Bible is meant to hurt your feelings; it’s meant to penetrate your heart and change us, and show us what we DON’T need in our life, have you ever had a plant that plant only grows when we pouring water and fertilizing it, but when we over water a plant we can also kill the plant see sometimes we don’t have to use poison to kill anything sometimes it’s the small thing we don’t realize that can kill it.

  A lot of times, what keeps people in sin, whether have someone pour deceit into their lives or want someone to give them what they DON’T need, than to hear they DON’T need it, but every time we read the word, it’s pouring what we need into our lives, it’s pouring more joy into our lives, it pours more knowledge into our lives. Still, when we refuse to accept it, we die spiritually. Don’t let your itchy ears lead you to spiritual death. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, thank you for today; thank you for life, health, and strength; lord, forgive us if we whether hear the falseness; then your truth helps us accept the truth and your will and way. Lord, we love you so much for everything; we ask you to give us strength and your love. Lord, help us to be more like you every day in Jesus Name, amen

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REFERENCES

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+ Galatians 4:16 Have I become your enemy by telling you the truth?

 

+ Luke 6:26: “Woe to you, when all people speak well of you, for so their fathers did to the false prophets.

 

+ Jeremiah 5:31 the prophets prophesy falsely, and the priest’s rule at their direction; my people love to have it so, but what will you do when the end comes?

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FURTHER READINGS

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Proverbs 10

Leviticus 10

Joshua 22

2 Samuel 19

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[heavenbelongstociaran]

me and my wilmon playlist

i like to think of myself as the second coming of christ when it comes to making playlists right, and i have this completely reasonable in length young royals playlist and i feel like i nailed it, in terms of the general vibe of the show AND scene specific themes.

ANYWAY, the reason i'm bringing it up is because i think there are a few songs that are very season specific that are in there.

season 1: visions of gideon by sufjan stevens

I KNOW everyone and their mother would agree that this song is very tragically wilmon.

"I have loved you for the last time

Is it a video? Is it a video?

I have touched you for the last time

Is it a video? Is it a video?"

giving very much episode six, when simon and wille were saying goodbye just before wille left for the palace. even though simon was being reassuring, comforting and encouraging (calling him brave, saying the royal court couldn't force him to do something he didn't want to do), wille (imo) didn't seem to believe him. and i think the way they kissed just made it seem like wille had already made his mind up, even though he said that he wouldn't lie about the video. it felt like he knew he was going to do it, and that it would inevitably be the end of the relationship, hence the lyrics being "i have loved/touched you for the last time."

honourable mentions include:

i'm your man by mitski

on and on by djo

favourite crime by olivia rodrigo

love in the dark by adele

it almost worked by tv girl

hurts me too by faye webster

take me home by pinkpantheress

let light be light by lizzy mcalpine

season 2: crack baby by mitski

gonna start with the honourable mentions first because there are loads:

i loved you by sunday cruise

thursday girl by mitski

why didn't you stop me by mitski

capable of love by pinkpantheress

genuinely, there are so many more but these are the ones that popped into my head as i was scrolling through the playlist.

you know that one saying that's like, "you never know how good you had it until it's gone" or however it goes? that's how season 2 felt.

both simon and wille were trying to recreate what they had or could have had with other people (marcus and felice, respectively) and realised that that would be impossible.

"Crack baby, you don't know what you want But you know that you had it once And you know that you want it back Crack baby, you don't know what you want But you know that you're needing it And you know that you need it bad"

said realisation definitely hurt wille incredibly, considering he said he wished it hadn't happened. it made him realise what life could be like, but he threw that away because he thought he was doing the right thing by denying the video ("protecting" simon). i actually have no idea how to explain this but like, trust me bro.

season 3: too many to name.

heaven by mitski. these fuckers were so in love this season, it was quite sickening (/affection). thinking about season three wilmon makes me want to cry, ignoring their communication issues, and other things that had a negative impact on their relationship.

a part of that by anna kendrick. HERE ME OUT. so, the song is from the movie adaptation of the play "the last five years" and anna's character, kathy, is watching her husband succeed and do all these amazing things in his life and is wondering where she fits into all of it. in season three and maybe the whole series, there's the topic of where the big five fit into the society or positions they're placed in and their positions in each other's lives. wille's struggle w/the monarchy and wanting out, august wanting in (for example).

dark circles by ryan beatty. this has simon written all over it.

casino by ryan beatty.

capable of love by pinkpantheress. goes with what i yapped about regarding season two. whenever they break, or rather when simon breaks up with simon, they seem to feel like this is the be all, end all of everything and that they won't love anyone ever again. in capable of love, pinkpantheress is saying that people pretend that the bond that she has with her love interest doesn't exist, ie people ignoring the fact that simon and wille were together at one point and only acknowledging wille when he got with felice BUT she also says that that doesn't matter, considering everything they went through to get to where they are now. she goes on to say that she'll never be able to love anyone the same way if they were to ever break up and i think that, throughout the series, this has shone through.

ribbons by ryan beatty. https://genius.com/31122186/Ryan-beatty-ribbons/Whos-gonna-hold-you-while-you-sleep-well-its-brave-to-be-nothing-to-no-one-at-all

little faith by ryan beatty!!!!!! (quite frankly, the entire album, Calico.)

general

there are a lot of songs that could encompass the show. capable of love. literally any loyle carner song about struggling with your identity and familial relationships and breaking cycles (polyfilla). sufjan stevens (mystery of love, everything that rises). so on and so forth. but wilmon and the young royals are not one dimensional enough to be described by one or eighteen songs, they're a whole catalogue. that playlist on paper is the most random thing i have ever crafted because fo&o, boygenius and brockhampton have no right to be in the same playlist, but hurt like we did, cool about it and any way want me absolutely deserve to be together; in a cool way, i think that's literally what simon and wille are like: on paper, they don't make sense. the crown prince of sweden, white and privileged and a gay brown boy from a small town who just happens to be an antimonarchist, but if you take that all away, they're two boys trying to find their place in the world, making mistakes.

feel free to give feedback and song recs !!!

playlist links:

apple music: https://music.apple.com/za/playlist/young-royals-but-i-made-the-soundtrack/pl.u-6mo4ZzvSBedVApW

spotify: (i haven't updated it on there in at least six months): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/25Pf9bDFBl6vtXOH9cvJC5?si=0b8a0ff36bb5435e

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c17. O'sang mij.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Hurts me too, Faye Webster.

abstract: I'm not jealous I can't believe she said that. you know what, everything you're reading is proof you should't trust her. she has so many secrets, even this chapter, I don't know what's going on in this. it's all a mistake. it's been a mistake since she fucking stepped into the room, can't change my mind.

'This will be your equipment…'

'Why does he have to bring it up in front of everyone like that?' she asked, trying to keep her voice low. She knew Kate was on her side on this, and Price was totally out of line if he thought he could talk to her like that. 'Alba, I know, he shouldn't have…'

'No you're right he shouln't have! The others can't know!' She looked at the woman with her palms open, looking for her support. If he didn't approve of her presence in his team, he should have simply said so. 'Our deal was no one was ever gonna find out', she spoke again, her words bitter, her chest aching with rage. No no, she was frightened. 'And no one will know' Kate reassured, in a motherly tone. 'He wan't happy when I told him I wanted you to work with them', revealed the woman. She signalled for Alba to sit down, which she did. 'He's fine with your occupation as a counsellor, he doesn't want you involved in bigger things.' Alba licked her lips with a small smile. It took her two weeks and a few interrogations to get that job, two years ago. They needed to make sure they weren't taking a fugitive in their base. They needed to make sure she wasn't associated with her family anymore. Hearing her speak that awful dialect of hers didn't help. She remember sitting down, telling her life story over and over, proving her ties to her family were completely cut, signing classified documents. She had become an asset again, only to a different organisation. 'If something happens over there, we want to be sure you'll be on our side', they kept saying. 'It's my decision Alba, I trust you and your capabilities. He's just skeptical, you don't need to worry about him.' She relaxed slightly seeing Kate so considerate 'They would be completely lost if it wasn't for the things you found, they need you.' She nodded.

She had to let this go if she wanted to still work in this mission. She didn't want to be a reliability. She listened to Laswell as she explained her equipment. She was gonna use three computer screens. One was for each soldier's body cam, the other had the images from the drones and GPS locations she had to follow and report to the others. Kate showed her how to use the radio, her headset with the microphone, switch channels. On the desk, a map, a pencil. 'If this goes red it means you're not getting signal' she instructed, 'they usually split up in three team, Price will tell you more on that, but you will see them over here, only refer to them as Bravo team, Alpha team or by their call signs.' She tried to get every single piece of information imprinted in her brain. 'I'm gonna give you a report, you should learn all of them, along with some military terminology. Here you have you radar', fuck me, she thought, my radar, 'you'll be able to see the buildings inside the crater once the guys will give you visual. You'll have to keep checking this for weather alert for sand storms.'

Alba was just now getting how difficult this was gonna be, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. 'You'll be in contact with a Boeing E-3A aircraft which will alert you if they spot enemy aircraft or missiles, you'll then refer back to the teams.' She stayed with Laswell for another thirty minutes, talking about what she needed to do. Face recognition devices were on every videocamera, she was the one who had to confirm a positive ID on the enemy. She thanked her five or six times before leaving. When she got out of the room she went into the toilets and sat down to breathe. It was the biggest responsibility she had ever had, and she did quite a few important things in her lifetime. Her hands were slightly shaking. 'It's gonna be fine, you'll be just perfect.' A distant voice was speaking softly in her ear. 'If you follow the plan, everything will be fine. If you don't, you'll die.' She could almost feel a hand, gently rubbing her cheek. She heard the sound of sea waves hitting the shore, felt the warm kiss of the sun on her skin. 'Segui le regole, fai ciò che abbiamo stabilito. Sei la migliore di tutti sti strunz…' She felt like the walls were closing up on her, like the air was getting sucked away from her lungs. Her palms sweaty, her vision blurred, she sinked her teeth in her bottom lip. 'Si o' sang mij'. She turned around and lifted the toilet seat up. She threw up.

It took her a while to get out of the toilet. She walked to her car and quickly ran off to go back home. She didn't want to see anyone before three, when she had to come back for the briefing. She had a cup of tea on the counter and Laswell's reports on call signs and past missions she had to read. She read on how to communicate through the radio, which terms to use. She read transcriptions of their past missions, to see how they were used in practice. She had a list of soldiers that were gonna participate to the mission, their full names and call signs. Scotland went by Soap, which she thought was odd. Kyle was Gaz, she saw other names of people she didn't know. It was a total of eight men, including the captain. The only one who didn't have his full name listed, but only initials, was Ghost. She thought to the general public, or to any military personnel, his identity was a secret, which was strange considering Price introduced him to her by his surname. She kept reading until she had take Jinx out and have quick lunch. At this point, she started to get anxious again, anxious to see Price and have to deal with his comments, anxious to not fit in with all the soldiers, she felt like a bloody fish out of the water. She could hear the captain yell out 'Do you guys know who Jude really is? You want to know her real name? You know what she did as a kid, let me tell you…' She chose her outfit with care to make a good impression. Sophisticated, educated, I know what I am doing impression. She chose a skirt. A long, beautiful swing skirt made of dark black wool that wrapped her waist tightly and fell down straight at ankle length. She put on a white blouse and put her hair up with a claw clip. Her boots were a lot less high than normal, to better compliment the skirt which was a true statement piece of clothing. Realistically, none of the men inside the briefing room were going to care about the brand of her skirt or notice the way she changed up her earrings, choosing the more subtle ones. She did it to make herself feel better, she looked like worked at the fucking Louvre. She was one of the first people to arrive in the briefing room.

'Can I talk to you for a second?' Price asked while she took off her coat. She crossed her arms, feeling her shoulders tense up. 'Look, I'm putting my full trust in you, Alb… Jude. I'm serious.' She grinned at him 'You think I don't know? I'm taking it very seriously…' Her voice was a whisper, she didn't want to be heard by the men that were slowly beginning to fill the room. 'I know, I know, just to make sure we're on the same page, we take over from here, you'll just be…', she interrupted him again, 'Oh I'm not coming with you, I'm staying right here, I won't interfere. I'll do what you ask' she stated. He seemed to calm down.

'Your family doesn't have ties with the Middle East, right?'

'Go to hell.'

When Simon stepped into the room he was already eager to see her. That place smelled exactly like her, it was like she bathed them all and baptised them with her scent. That was the same room they had met when she came in talking about her patient for the first time. She looked even better than the first time. She looked older, wiser. She was talking to his captain when he arrived, arms crossed and a stern look on her face. Maybe they were still arguing about God knows what. He felt drawn to her by her presence, the way she was standing, with confidence. Only him and the two 141 idiots knew about her attending the meeting, his other teammates seemed quite surprised to see her there, especially after all that speculation on her past he heard in Al-Jareena. When she finished her little chat with Price she sat down, first row, last chair against the wall. A strategic seat, away from the door, not in the middle of the scene, not in the middle of all those men. Price started instructing them on their groups, flights details and equipment. 'Our target is inside a crater with diameter 2.5 miles about six klicks from our headquarters. Maximum height 5300 feet on the southern side.' He glanced at the girl which was quietly sitting in the corner of the room. 'Jude's discovery.' She nodded, but her lips were pressed together. She was embarrassed. (Don't be, sweet angel of death and violence, it's your crater, he thought).

'We'll only move halfway, then have two RC cars secure the area and we'll put drones in place. We're moving in from the North and the East.' His instructions were clear and detailed. They would wait for Jude to get satellite images and drone transmission video, then proceed to take out the three snipers on the Southern and Northern side. Since they would be up the mountain, it was Jude that had to keep them updated on the situation inside the crater. 'Once we climb we need to be quick and bloody invisible.' He was going to be paired up with Johnny, as usual. They had the young lad that liked to talk about Alba so much with them, Rabbit was his call sign. The Alpha team, other three men, was going to attack at the same time as them, east side. Get the guy, Jude was going to ID him, capture or kill. In and out the bloody mountain. There was very little coverage inside the crater, no buildings only tents. They really had to be invisible during their way down from the top. They had to climb it on foot as well, there were no roads or paths, and cars would be too noisy. 'You got all you need to know from Laswell?' asked Price directing his attention to Jude, which nodded without speaking. Her hands were resting on her lap. She had a skirt on, quite serious skirt as well. 'Wait, she's…' someone asked. 'She is. She's filling in for Laswell.'

She was grateful that Price got his head out of his ass and stood his ground about her presence there. 'Anymore questions?' Someone spoke but he wasn't listening. He was looking at her, her serious expression, the way she listened to the conversation. She looked relaxed, at ease. Her hair was tied back loosely. From where he was sitting, he could almost imagine to see that damned tattoo of hers on her chest. Catch a glimpse of her skin, feel her shift position on the chair, bat her long lashes in slow motion… The magic stopped when the meeting was dismissed, the men started making noise again while they all got ready to leave the room. And when Gaz walked past him, approached her with a smile, and asked her how she was doing. He did't even blink and they were gone. Walked away together. His hand was gently placed on her back.

notes: oh oh. he's such a gentlemen, uh… irresistible.

notes: Segui le regole, fai ciò che abbiamo stabilito. Sei la migliore di tutti sti strunz…' means 'follow the rules, do what we discussed. you're the best one between these assoles.' 'Si o' sang mij'. means you're my blood in Naples dialect, in the sense she's genetically related to who's speaking or that she belongs to them.

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC Part 18 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Ah yes my favourite gif of all time finally has come into play, how exciting! We're in France Baby! It's a change of pace and scenery how fun! I feel we are nearing the end and then remember how much I have actually written and then I'm like oh nope we still got a bit bahaha. I'm doing a short chapter cause I was writing it and it was like a good 4k words so I thought it best to just split it into two, I know some people prefer shorter chapters.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @next-autopsy, @panzershrike-pretz, @xxluckystrike, @bucky32557038ww2 (if you want to be added let me know🥰)

The cold wind whipped at my face making me hunch further down into my jacket. We had finally arrived in Haguenau after the long journey, everyone seemed to be restless. Keen to be indoors and out of the biting elements. Don stood in the back of the truck, his mood appearing low. I wanted to ask him what seemed to be troubling him but there was no privacy on the back of the vehicle. His smiles weren’t as bright, not quite reaching his eyes. I chewed my lip nervously watching the man. They had made him Staff Sergeant, but he didn’t seem pleased. 

“Hey guys.” A cheery voice called from behind me. I turned to look at the man who spoke. I didn’t recognise him. But he surely hadn’t been with us before. He looked healthy, clean, and happy. Compared to the sorry sacks who rode on the back of the truck, myself included. Was he a replacement?

“Some Lieutenant told me to report to 2nd.” The man informed us. I glanced across the truck at Lieb who shrugged. I rolled my eyes, why I looked to him for information I have no idea, he’s no help. I leant back resting on the seat between Grant and Jackson.  

“Your name’s Jackson right?” The soldier asked the young man beside me. God he was so young, he assured me he was 19 but I don’t believe him, he looks like a kid.    

“That’s right.” Jackson replied. 

“Who’s leading the platoon?” He asked, Jackson’s eyes flicked to Don who was still standing. 

“Sergeant Malarkey is.” He tells the soldier. 

“What no officers?” I tilt my head while looking at the man while he talks, his face seems so familiar. 

“I guess you didn’t hear.” Lieb said. 

“No, what's that?” He turned his attention onto Joe. 

“They’re making Malarkey a Lieutenant. He’s on the fast track now.” He says while fiddling with his lighter. A tell that he was lying, the little shit. No one said anything about his blatant lie.  

“Really? That’s great.” It’s bugging me, I swear I know this dude. He probably thinks I’m a weirdo as he glances at me staring at him. 

“Jackson, help me up will you?” He swings his bag onto the back of the truck, pulling himself up to sit next to Jackson. I move from my spot, not having enough room on the bench anymore without me basically sitting in Grant’s lap. I sit in between Babe and Lieb. Continuing to stare at the private. This is going to drive me insane, who is this guy?

 The truck jolts forward, almost sending him flying out again. I hide my laughter behind my hand. 

“So, uh, you come from the hospital?” Jackson asks him.

“Must’ve liked that hospital, cause’ we left Holland four months ago.” I nudge Lieb, silently scolding him for being mean.  

“Who is this guy?” I whispered to Babe.

“Webster, I think.” My mouth flew open, that’s where I knew him from, I think I met him on my first night. Babe reaches out, shutting my mouth, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

“Well I wasn’t there the whole time. There was rehabilitation, then the replacement depot.” Webster explained. 

“Well, I’m sure you tried to bust out and help us in Bastogne, Web.” Lieb was pissed off. Lieb would’ve come back and helped, like a lot of the other men did. But they can’t all be like them. Webster got off the line and had a holiday, can’t blame the man for not wanting to come back in a hurry. This was war for god sake, no one wishes to be here. Well I hope not. I mean I do but I have my reasons ok!

“I don’t know how I would’ve done that.” Webster defended himself. I looked at Babe, he seemed to notice the tension, I made a face showing my discomfort. Hiding my look behind my hand. He gave me the same look back. I chuckled and bumped him with my shoulder trying to ease the cringe we both felt in our chests. Like going over to a friends house and having to sit there and watch them be told off. So awkward. 

“That’s funny cause Popeye found a way. So did Alley, right, back in Holland? And Guarnere and –” Lieb turned to Babe and I, we both nodded silently, not wanting to be dragged into the passive aggressive conversation. Lieb was the king of passive aggressiveness, let me tell you. Don’t piss off that guy. He will subtly degrade you and wear you down.   

“Yeah, where is Guarnere? He still your platoon Sergeant?“ Webster asked. I could feel both Lieb and Babe stiffen next to me. I stilled too. It was hard being dragged back to that place of memories. So we didn’t mention it, and kept moving forward. So for Web to come in asking where people were, hit a nerve. It was an unspoken rule not to really speak of those who we had lost. It just made it so much harder, we didn’t have time to process or grieve really. It was for later, after this was all done and we were safe then we could process everything that had happened. 

“No. He got hit.” Jackson said with a huff. Webster was not picking up on the social cues being hurled at him. How did he not see or feel the tension as soon as he mentioned Bill’s name, it was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

The truck stopped moving as we stood. Lieb held out his hand for me to grab to help me jump down. I took his hand, hopping down and landing beside him, “Thank you.” I said giving him a smile, but I could tell Webster had put him in a sour mood. I waited for Babe to hop down as well. He stood up in the truck, “Yeah, Bill got hit. Blew his whole leg off.” Babe said to Webster. Great now he’s made both of them mad. Babe jumped down, walking in stride with me. We walked alongside the trucks that had parked.

“Spread out. Hold along this line till I figure out where we’re going.” Don said, striding forward from behind us. Making his way over to where Captain Speirs was talking to another officer. I hung back as the men kept walking. Waiting by the trucks for instructions, no good me holding the line with no weapon. 

“Sarge.” Web called from behind me, I turned to look at the man as he walked. He brushed past me, his rifle still in its bag clocking me right in the head. I stumbled backwards, tripping over rubble on the floor. I landed on the ground with a hard thud. Ow! Fucking dick! I rubbed my head, grimacing in pain. He didn’t even realise he had done it, continuing to walk towards Malarkey. I got to my feet, brushing the dirt from my hands. I glared at the man, great now he’s pissed me off too. The sounds of shells being fired whistled through the air. I ducked my head down barely trying to cover myself. I watched with pure shock as Webster dove onto the ground face planting into the snow. I covered my mouth trying to muffle the laughter escaping my lips. Malarkey turned around to see his soldier lying in the snow. I giggled furiously behind the men. 

“What’s the matter there, Webster? Nervous in the service?” Don asked the man. I almost fell to the floor again in a fit of hysterics, wiping the tears from my eyes. The scene of Webster flying through the air replaying in my head. Well I’m not mad at him anymore. 

Don finished talking to Webster, sending him off to speak with Captain Speirs. “Em, you’re with me, let’s go.” Don called to me as he passed. I hurried after him, trailing behind a little so that he could speak to others if he needed. 

I split from the group needing to find Lip, I saw him slink away into one of the houses they were setting up CP in. I hurried in watching Lip take a seat on one of the couches. 

“Lip, how are you feeling?” I asked the man coming to kneel beside the couch he rested on. 

“Great.” He smiled. I placed my hand on his forehead, he was running a fever. His skin was clammy and hot. His complexion was pallor in colour, and even from here I could hear the evident wheeze in his chest. He coughed into a handkerchief, producing a greenish yellow phlegm. George laid a blanket over the man as I assessed him. I pulled the stethoscope from my bag, Lip leaned forward knowing the drill. I untucked his top from the back, sliding my hand under his shirt to press the diaphragm of the stethoscope to his back. 

He winced, “Sorry cold hands.” I apologised from my freezing fingers that touched his warm skin. 

“Deep breath in.” He inhaled for me as I listened in one spot. “And out.” He exhaled. I could hear the rattle in his chest clearly, as he exhaled. I moved the diaphragm around listening to different parts of the lungs, from the top of the lung field to the bottom. I removed my hand from under his shirt, tucking it back in. 

“How does it sound?” He asked, reading over a paper George had handed him. 

“Well Lip it sounds better than last time I checked, but there is still fluid present in the lungs. So you need to rest. If you keep going you’re going to crash. They have this handled, you need to go lie down. There are beds in the back, go sleep. And remember at least three pillows, you need your head elevated.” I tried to explain to him, but even when he first got sick he refused to rest, saying there was too much work to do. I could only drag a horse to water.  

“George, have you had any word about if they will send us some antibiotics?” I asked Luz as he moved around the room organising things. 

“No, sorry Em.” I sighed, frustrated, he needed that medication. 

“Hey, look who it is. Nice digs, huh, Lip?” I tucked the blanket into Lip’s side knowing he would refuse to move and go to bed. I looked over to Webster who stood in the passageway. 

“Sergeant Lipton? Feeling alright?” Webster asked the man.

“He’s got pneumonia.” George informed the curious soldier. I still knelt beside him, concern apparent on my features. He gave me his sorry-I-will-go-rest-soon-face. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Webster shared his apologies. 

“What are you sorry about? He’s alive. Got a couch, a goddamn blanket, snug as a bug.” George said cigarette hanging from his mouth. I stood from my position, placing my stethoscope back into my bag. 

“Sergeant Malarkey said to check with the CO if I should be in 2nd platoon.” Webster said. 

“Have a seat, Webster. We’ll get you situated.” Lipton ushered the man to sit. He took a place at the old piano. 

“How long have you been sick?” Webster inquired. 

“Long enough.” I patted the man on his shoulder. Poor guy had been ill for a while. He had a cold at first, which I said in the first place for him to rest and let it pass. But being the caring man that he is couldn’t leave his soldiers. So he worked still, causing the cold to become worse and then it deteriorated into pneumonia. Still even with that he refused to lie still and do nothing. Which I encouraged him to do so many times, I had given up. 

“And when did nurses start helping on the frontlines?” He turned and asked me. 

“Ah, I’m a medic.” I answered. 

“Oh, that’s right! I recognise you now.” He smiled, “Yeah, wow, I’m surprised you’re still alive.” We all stilled. I sent him a disbelieving look, surely he didn’t just say that to me.

“Um… thanks?” I wasn’t sure what to say. 

“Of course Em is still alive, she’s tough as nails. Huh Em?” George came and stood beside me wrapping an arm around me as he gave me a squeeze. I smiled at Luz, nodding my head. 

“Sure am.” I turned to look at Webster, who assessed the interaction. He seemed to be puzzled at the closeness we shared. Too bad for him, it was a common sentiment I shared with all the Easy men. 

Footsteps sounded from the doorway. A young man appeared in the room. “Is this the CP for Easy company?” He asked, looking lost. 

“Yes, sir.” Lip said, moving to sit up on the couch. Everyone else in the room stood as well. I inspected the man closer, recognising the dash on his helmet showing he was a ranking officer. 

“As you were.” He told the men who stood at his arrival. “Lieutenant Jones looking for Captain Speirs.” 

“He’s on his way, sir. Why don’t you sit down.” Lip told the Lieutenant. I moved from my position standing next to Lip’s couch. I gave Luz a small wave heading for the door. Captain Speirs strolled in right as I was about to leave. He gave me a warm smile as we passed. 

“Listen, for Christ’s sake, will you go back in the back and sack out? There’s some beds back there with fresh sheets.” I heard Ron tell Lip. 

“I told him that sir, he wouldn’t listen.” I called over my shoulder. 

“Listen to Emily, she's the medic.” I laughed as Ron scolded him. I left the CP heading to where 2nd platoon had been placed. I passed Winters and Nix on my way out as well. 

“Emily! You’re looking well.” Nixon called to me, I smiled brightly at the man as I hadn’t seen him in a while. He moved forward arms wide, I stepped into his tight hug. I pulled away from Nix. Winters smiled at me, giving me a loving squeeze on the arm, as I grinned at him.  

“It’s good to see you both.” I told them happily. The exchange was brief before they set off again in the direction I had just come from. 

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

Chapter 19