#i always thought i'd die on the

[sapphire-weapon]

ok one last post and then i’ll let it go

the whole idea that adam benford “headhunted” leon off the streets outside raccoon city makes absolutely no fucking sense, because it implies that benford somehow knew who he was already and had ascribed some sort of pre-determined value to him? and that leon wasn’t just

you know

some fucking guy bleeding out on the side of the road and just happened to be with the birkin kid.

like is the implication here that adam benford was sitting there at his big old big dick CIA desk (despite RE6 never mentioning him ever having been in the CIA) and looking at personnel files just for funsies and going “you know, this brand new recruit to the RPD, let’s go find him and see if he’s still alive somehow”?

BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT “HEADHUNTING” ACTUALLY MEANS.

THIS WHOLE THING JUST KEEPS GETTING DUMBER THE MORE I THINK ABOUT IT

[amygdalae]

I love you. the chill sorcerer

[todayisafridaynight]

rate the outfit

[viric-dreams]

Impressed and unimpressed. A slightly more historical take on Ockham ca. 1813.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[alluralater]

"say it don't spray it." nah open that mouth nice and wide, babygirl. i'm about to spit some facts in it

[sunflowersandcherryblossoms]

Karakura Team? No, fuck that!

Seireitei Team!

[ghostclefable]

Post-war Katsuki has taylor's Lover album on repeat and you will not convince me otherwise

[famewolf]

for so long all I wanted to do was die but now that I'm older, all I worry about is dying too soon. too soon to experience all the things I didn't give myself time for when I was young. I don't want to spend these years overthinking what time I have left

[merevide]

caved and watched the first 5 episodes of hotd and rn all i gotta say is i wouldn't even wish the fate of being a high ranking offical's daughter/wife in the GoT universe onto my worst enemy godddd

[fluentisonus]

.

[astrxealis]

dear gods i adore horror tbh but i am way too sensitive to it

[medicinemane]

Honestly a lot of the time, it's not even about people having to agree with me, it's about needing to know that they actually heard and listened to what I had to say even if it didn't persuade them

Just... some basic indication that there's enough respect to give a shit about what I said, and also to make sure that they disagree because they actually disagree and not cause they just didn't bother listening

It's all I really ask

[asjjohnson]

He lives in Amity Park. Just one of seventy thousand people making a living under the shield.

He makes a modest salary working at a garage. There's a handful of cars per day, coming in for oil changes or tune-ups, and the work is divided between him and two coworkers.

He considers himself to be pretty average. One face lost within a sea of thousands. Unnoticed and unmemorable.

He doesn't mind. He's a pretty bland person overall. He doesn't do much other than work, eat, watch whatever's showing on TV when he's at his small apartment, and sleep; and he doesn't feel he needs more from life than that.

He moved to Amity Park a few years ago, after wandering from place to place.

The ghost thing was new to him. He can't remember seeing a ghost until after moving here. And when the purpose of the shield was explained to him, he couldn't imagine ghosts beyond a vague idea. They were said to be slightly translucent and able to fly. And, in Amity Park, ghosts are just another part of their way of life. A normal sight to see. Especially Phantom.

Even now he can't build a clear mental image or description when it comes to ghosts. He never had a chance to really take one in.

Every time he sees Phantom, his mind goes blank, in pure terror.

Even on the other side of the shield, high in the sky 500 feet away, barely even close enough to make out the cape and suit, the ghost would cause him to freeze in place on the sidewalk, forgetting how to breathe while people push past him to continue on their way.

---

He's at the garage when the sirens come on. In an oil-stained jumpsuit, on his back beneath a car.

At first he's confused, cocking his head to listen, but someone yells that it's the shield.

He should've recognized the sound. There's a drill twice a year. Somewhat of a holiday. The entire town meets up in the shelters under the city. But the timing is off. Wrong month, wrong day, wrong time. For one thing, there is no work on Drill Day. So he didn't make the connection at first.

He puts his wrench down and follows the others out of the garage.

When he steps through the door, he sees Phantom in the distance, throwing parked cars, and he freezes as the others run.

It gets hard to breathe. He can't get enough air. His vision zeroes in on Phantom, the rest of the world vanishing. His heart pounds in his chest like it's trying to free itself. Phantom is coming nearer. He feels dizzy. His head is swimming. He... he has to sit... His knees hit the asphalt. His palms keep him from falling, his eyes never leave Phantom. The ghost comes nearer, casually, meanderingly, blasting random objects. As near as three businesses down. Two. Phantom turns and blows up the building across the street.

Phantom turns back around. Eyes focused overhead, at the garage building. A giddy-looking grin. Then the eyes drift downward.

They lock on him.

"What do we have here? A flea that forgot how to scurry away?"

He shudders at the sound of the voice. Trembles as Phantom floats nearer. He cringes on the ground, seeing his death mere feet away. Stares wide-eyed.

Phantom's grin fades, eyebrows furrowing as eyes study his face. Then, "You?" The eyes narrow, a sneer crossing the face. "I should have finished you."

He shrinks back as Phantom reaches for him. Squeezes his eyes tightly shut. Death. Death.

But instead, a strong hand grips his upper arm—and something seems to light up behind his eyes.

Memories flow through him like water.

A sister. Spinning on her heel with long orange hair flying, a superior, righteous expression as she says something.

Parents. Both wearing tight jumpsuits, excited, building a deadly weapon at the dinner table while asking about school.

Friends. One in black and one with glasses, putting a finger to their earpieces as they talk over each other making suggestions.

...Himself.

Tiredly brushing long black bangs out of his eyes as he reaches for a toothbrush. Lying on his back looking up at the stars. Observing a translucent, slightly glowing gloved hand, wiggling the fingers.

He exhales with a hiss. And snaps his eyes open to glare at Phantom. "You!" He jerks back, breaking Phantom's grip on his arm.

He was robbed of ten years of his life. Of who he is. He lived through ten years not realizing what was going on around him. Accepting the shield and the destruction as normal! And it was a part of himself doing all of this! Making the shield necessary! Out having a joyride at everyone's expense!

He's so angry. Furious.

He can feel his eyes light up for a split second, and a flash of green sparking in his palms. "I'll destroy you!"

He doesn't run for the emergency ecto-gun in the garage.

He lunges at Phantom with his bare hands, palms repeatedly trying to glow, sparking for only an instant at a time, like an igniter without fuel to back it up.

[sw33t--t00th]

The beach that makes you old from the movie Old

Get Mr Puzzles

Put him on the beach that makes you old

Would he just crumble?

[dreamswillbeyourwintermeat]

Took three weeks off from sailing because I sprained my damn elbow like an idiot, and no one even noticed I wasn't there.