#i am a happier person now. i will be better than my enemies *i am soaked in my own blood* i will not stoop to their level *there is a knife

[transmasculinizing]

man

[l00rem]

Hz ep65 rambles

This is going to be a long post because as expected I am just so incredibly normal about this episode. As someone who has wanted a deeper look into liko and amethio’s dynamic since forever i’ve been fed well. When it was clear Amethio wouldn’t be in this arc much I hoped we could at least get an episode with him and liko somehow but i gave up on the possibility, only for the title of 65 to get leaked which made me unable to sleep that day lmao

I know a lot of people are annoyed it’s taken the series so long for them to have a meaningful interaction but tbh i don’t really mind. The pokemon anime seasons last around 150 eps, and with gen 10 looking further away than most next generations hz might be lasting closer to the dp animes length, which makes sense considering it feels more like a one-shot series that won’t carry over into the next gen. It also just makes sense to me that they haven’t had a chat like this until now because why would they? as amethio says, liko was just the girl with the terapagos to him, there was no reason for him to go out of this way to chat with her and she was running from him because he’s the enemy. This episodes made it clear that their dynamic matters with it being the title, so i’m sure they’ll get a lot more moments from here on out.

Anyway, I absolutely adored amethio’s characterisation in this episode. Going into it i’d hoped we’d get to see his softer side and did the writers deliver on that! I love how it’s amethio who makes the initiative easier to talk with liko, there’s no reason for him to do this and what he said only motivates her (his enemy!!) and yet he most likely sees himself in her and so wants to comfort her as there was never anyone there for him… what he said really reminded me of friede’s words at the end of ep45 as well. I wonder if he could potentially become more of a mentor figure to her later on now that he’s been fired, as friede and roy have always felt closer to me in terms of mentor-student bond so it would be nice if liko got that with someone too.

he’s also the one to reach out his hand, which btw is the first time he’s made any physical contact with someone which wasn’t him flying on corviknight. Of course his hands were gloved, i wonder if he’ll take them off at some point? something something gloved symbolic for vulnerability, taking them off shows his trust and comfort…

The timing of putting Amethio next to Grusha also feels very intentional. They’re both cold on the surface but have better intentions deep down. I wonder if the whole Grusha being happier when he was younger will be true for Ame as well?? I can’t help but think about that Charcadet back from ep57 , which seemed so happy and friendly… He even made sort of a smile in this ep?? I don’t think i counts as a proper one, but his eyes are filled with so much love and warmth that it certainly gives the illusion of one. So, of course, order had to be restored by immediately making amethio suffer right after he finally displays some level of happiness

I find it really interesting how Gibeon seems to be bringing up Amethio’s dad in repose to Amethio showing comradeship with the enemy.

I know a lot of people think Amethio was born into explorers, but my personal interpretation is that ame’s dad left after meeting ame’s mom and decided there was more to life then chasing his dad’s wishes. Perhaps she was also a target for one of his missions but he ended up falling in love with her … (i don’t ship ameliko btw, i think the parallel is more love in general than specifically romance). I also don’t think amethio’s dad is alive, amethio seems to cling to gibeon for some reason so my theory has always been that gibeon killed ame’s dad (perhaps he tried to take gibeon down, now we’ve seen what the eternal blessing can do he wouldn’t stand a chance) and then manipulated amethio under the illusion that he’d been abandoned. And now he’s been abandoned again… Gibeon clearly doesn’t give a shit about him, in ep54 he goes all ‘how long has it been since we met like this?’ which sounds warm, like seeing your grandparent in person after so long… but then you realise that gibeon is literally just a long ass corridor away and could call amethio at any time. he chooses not to because he doesn’t care. ‘special regard’ my ass, it’s all manipulation to isolate amethio into thinking he could only belong to explorers. This also makes me wonder if gibeon didn’t actually fall for spinel’s plot as much as he seemed to, maybe he just knows amethio will get desperate in banishment and will try even harder to reclaim his honour (fucking pokezuko lmao) it’s a very evil scheme in that case, gibeon has been shown to hold a lot of intelligence so i hope it does turn out to be the case or else he looks kinda stupid imo

Another detail I loved in this scene was the others reactions, particularly Sango.

She looks genuinely shocked, I think from her pov amethio has always been this pampered prince whose been given everything on a silver platter, she didn’t realise how fragile his place in explorers actually was. I expected this from Onyx, but it shows a lot of nuance for Sango to feel this way too. Also, I’m a Hamber hater so i’m always gonna perceive his actions in a bad light- i don’t think he was showing genuine concern for amethio, it’s more that he knows amethio’s character better than gibeon and so would know that amethio would never betray gibeon. he saw the torture amethio put himself through in training, and said himself he was impressed by his resolve. Hamber’s concern comes from loosing a valuable asset to his master, not because he genuinely cares imo.

This does make me wonder how Ame and Liko will interact from here on out. I think he’ll blame Spinel mostly, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s colder to her next time to make a point to himself that he’s not soft on the enemy. But I hope Liko will notice this, perhaps realise he’s been banished and use this as an opportunity to get to understand him better. She showed him vulnerability this ep, so i hope the tables will turn next time.

I really liked this line too, especially considering liko is a character so centred around empathy. Allow me to speak in my girl who only thinks about umineko voice for a second, but it really reminded me of the core theme ‘without love it can’t be seen’. Liko’s learning that if she doesn’t try to see the perspective of even people who seem to have ill intent, she’ll never understand them. A good lesson for a girl who wants to understand the hearts of others!

Now, as for amethio’s future… Considering his own advice to liko he’s definitely not going to give up like that. He’ll probably continue to train so he can seize terapagos, but in the process will potentially get closer and closer with liko and the rvt. This depends a lot on his situation now he’s been fired- like will he have money? will zir and conia follow him? i get the sense that the writers want to isolate him from them to make it easier to focus on his development (as much as i miss them as a trio) it’d be interesting if they got given to spinel temporality but i’d fear for their safety…

It seems that he’ll be important next arc, i hope now that he’s not in explorers it’ll be much easier to make him show up in a casual setting. I’ve always hoped he’d be relevant in getting Kleavor, mainly bc both Kleavor and Cerueldge have weapon hands so a battle between the two would be cool, especially if he teams up with liko!

Perhaps this is a reach but i’ve been humouring the idea that he might actually form a bond with Carmine.

He is next to her on the poster, which might not actually mean anything… but amethio’s always given me Keiran vibes, i’d love it if she saw keiran in him (especially if he’s going through his emo era) and so wanted to reach out to him as perhaps a way to work out how to approach her brother. It would be really sweet for amethio to get a familial figure who genuinely cares about him, now that he’s in his homeless arc maybe she could take him in for this arc like the sad sopping wet kitten whose been left in a card box in the rain that he is.

So yeah, those are most of my intelligible thoughts that aren’t just me screaming and jumping on the spot. Inevitably this is already my favourite hz episode we’ve gotten so far, and i’m so excited to see where amethio goes from here on out! Please, just let him smile and be happy, he’s suffered enough :,)

[dandelion-wings]

Stuck at the hospital with only my phone and rn the sickfic WIP isn't appealing, so why not start a new phone WIP? >> This concept originates from a longer idea @theabysscomeshome and I had once (wherein this episode feeds into a relationship shift), but rn I'm just focusing on baby Kaeya.

---

ETA: Now edited on AO3!

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"This must be confusing for you," says the red-haired man crouching in front of Kaeya. It's the first sensible thing Kaeya has heard anyone say since he woke up under this terrible open sky.

He doesn't say that, of course. He only nods. Giving anything away to these people would be a bad idea.

It's a good thing, in a way, that he'd woken to see the woman standing behind him before anything else. Her, and the sky above her, and the symbol of the Ordo Favonius--their ancient enemies, the crusading scourge that followed the first disasters of the Cataclysm--emblazoned upon her armor. She had seemed to take both his scream and his frantic grab for the sword beside him in stride, though she had wrestled the weapon away. She'd claimed to *know* him.

Kaeya knows no Knight of Favonius, but as long as he goes along with her claim, she seems disinclined to kill him. So he can't do anything that will prove her wrong.

"I thought that he would be more comfortable here at the Dawn Winery," she's telling the red-haired man now. "He's been very shy, and I think being around so many armed knights is frightening for him."

"He was afraid of knights when he first came here," the man agrees. Which means he thinks he knows Kaeya, too. "We'll look after him until your alchemists come up with a solution."

"Thank you. I know he'll be happier with you."

Kaeya stiffens when she puts a hand on his shoulder, but all she does is squeeze. When he looks up, she's smiling at him.

"We will work tirelessly to repair this," she tells him. "For now, simply enjoy your time here at the Winery."

Then she turns and walks away, leaving Kaeya here in this softly-lit room with the man looming over him even crouched to his height. It's still better than being surrounded by Favonian knights.

"Has Jean explained the situation to you?" the man asks.

She'd told him that she knew him as an adult, that he was a captain under her, and that some Abyss Mage had ensorcelled him in a fight. She'd told him that he was her best friend. Kaeya doesn't believe any of it, of course. But *she* does.

His own best theory, right now, is that the Abyss Mage switched them somehow. Why, he doesn't know. How his name can match her friend's, and furthermore how he can look enough like the man she knows for her to believe it, he doesn't know either. But Mages are capricious; that one snatched him from where he slept at his father's side while he slept and substituted him for this Mondstadtian Kaeya seems more likely than becoming a Knight of Favonius. Or, worse, the *friend* of one of those butchers.

Kaeya just nods again.

"Then I won't try to pretend that I'm Father. Not that there would be any point in that. I am Diluc. I'm simply fifteen years older than I was when you arrived."

He seems to expect some kind of answer, so Kaeya nods a third time.

The man nods back. Then he stands, abruptly, to his full height. It takes all of Kaeya's efforts not to flinch. If the knight thought he would be happier here, then surely the person she thinks he is wouldn't.

Passing Kaeya, the man--Diluc--opens the door. "Let's go find Adelinde. She can get your room set up and feed you. I'm sure you're hungry."

That's the second sensible thing Kaeya has heard anyone say today, so he follows.

[codfanficedits]

One fucking mistake - Full version - Ending two.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader - She/her pronouns being used - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!OC

Summary: Simon lost you after making a mistake on a mission.

Wordcount: 12655 | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: cussing, swearing, grieving, angst with comfort, conversation, mentioning of memoryloss, therapist, depression (and the nasty kind), funeral.

A/N: Full version of the fic. This is the happier ending.

I didn't proofread and English isn't my native tongue, so please let me know if there are mistakes.

AO3 Link ~ Full version ending one.

One fucking mistake.

That was all it took for life to take you away from him. Simon hated himself, flat out hated himself. He was the one he asked you to go on this mission with him. Simon was the one who double checked your gear, giving your bulletproof vest some little tugs to make sure that it was secure. Simon had been the one to beg you to come on this mission with him. After all, you had been the best thing that had happened to him, and what better way to keep you safe than to keep you close to him at all times?

Another sip of whiskey when he tries to drown out the memories of that mission.

Simon had promised himself to keep you safe, safe from the world, safe from the enemy, safe from himself, and he had failed. He had failed you so badly. If only he had listened to you when you said no the first time, if only he hadn’t pouted and tried to bribe you into coming with him. If he wouldn’t have done that you’d still be next to him.

Another sip of whiskey while he tries to forget his own screams when he lost you.

Simon would give everything in his power to turn back time, to accept your first no, to kiss you on your nose and to take that mission on with someone else. He would sacrifice the whole taskforce if that meant he could have you back. All of them, with his bare hands if he had to. But he knew it wouldn’t make a difference, he knew he couldn’t change the outcome, so the only thing he could do was punish himself for his mistakes.

When he finishes his glass of whiskey he wants to raise his arm to order another one. A large hand on his arms stops him.

“You’ve had enough, Simon.”

Captain fucking Price.

“I’ll fucking decide when I’ve had enough.” Simon barks. His anger redirecting to John, angry that the captain approved you going on that mission with him. It was his job to care for his soldiers and Price had clearly failed you and him.

Price’s hand grabs a handful of Simon’s hair. “Get a fucking grip on yourself, Simon.” His voice is a low hiss, almost intimidating. “That’s a fucking order.”

A stare off starts, Simon doesn’t want to back down, no, Simon wants someone to be punished for losing you. And Price refuses to be that person.

“I get that you’re grieving.” Price starts.

“Oh do you now?”

“Simon.” A soft sigh follows Price’s lips. “I do, but this is not the way to deal with this.”

Simon stays silent, of course he knows this is not the way to deal with it, but it is the way that feels good, the way that makes him forget about you. The way that makes him forget about the guilt that he feels.

“Come on.” Price orders him. “Let’s get you back to base.” The hand that had been gripping on his hair makes its way back to his neck, and with a firm hand he guides Simon off the barstool, back to the car.

It is a quiet, but tense ride back to base. Neither of the men want to break the silence.

Eventually Price bites the bullet.

“We’re worried about you, Simon.” He begins. “I am worried about you.”

“I don’t need your worries or your care.” Simon spat back, all he wanted was you back.

“You need something. Something we can’t give you.”

“What are you implying?”

“Simon.” It’s a soft sigh. “Maybe it would be for the best if you took some time off, yeah?”

No. Simon had already lost the person he cared most about, he couldn’t stand losing his job too, even if it was temporarily.

“Not a chance.”

“But, Simon I thi-“

“I said not a chance.”

Price let out a sigh, he knows better than to argue with a heartbroken, grieving soldier, but Price also knows he can’t allow this behaviour to continue for much longer. Simon is becoming a liability to the team, to himself, and he needs to prevent that.

The both of them don’t say a word until they reach the base again. But even then the tension was thick between the two of them. Without saying a word Simon got out of the car, taking large steps to avoid any form of communication with Price, not in the mood to talk anymore.

Simon reaches his room quickly and when he closes his door behind him, he gets overwhelmed with this insane amount of guilt. He had already lost you, and it felt as if everything was slipping between his fingers.

Simon falls to his knees, praying to the Gods that you’re safe and that you will return to him soon. His prayers are raw and desperate, begging for the universe to stop the cruel trick it’s playing on him.

He doesn’t get up when the door creaks open and Soap gets in. Price had told him what had happened, and Soap wanted to talk to his friend, but the sight of a grown man on his knees, begging the universe to bring someone back is a difficult thing to watch.

“You’re praying again?” Soap eventually mutters. “How raw are your knees?”

“Fuck off!” Simon snaps at him.

Soap can only shake his head. “I don’t think you’re truly mean.” He answers. “You have sad eyes.”

And with those words Simon is left alone again. His whole life smelled like you, and it would take time. Undoing you from his blood.

He crawls to his bed, on his knees, tears streaming down his face when he is once again reminded that you’re not here with him.

He doesn’t even bother with taking off his clothes as he crawls under the covers the two of you used to share every night. And he starts to think about another universe, one where he has found you again, where the two of you fall in love again, were the two of you stay together and have the happiest life together. And he loves, loves, loves you. Simon realizes that if he could have done it again, he would have loved you better, but he could not have loved you more.

The feelings of guilt and grief have started to feel so familiar that is has become comforting enough to fall asleep.

And when the morning comes, and Simon is once again reminded of what life has taken from him, he starts to understand why people smoke until their lungs are black, why people drink the night away or why they throw themselves off buildings.

His mind didn’t register the warm water of the shower anymore, everything in life started to feel dull, the warmth of the sun no longer hitting his skin, the smell of lavender no longer reaching his nose, even food started to taste as bland as he felt.

Simon dreaded going to debriefings, the stares he would get, full of compassion, it made him sick to his stomach, they all thought that they knew what he was going through, but no one really knew how he felt, and he was not about to share it with anyone.

He was the last to join, and as expected all the heads turned towards him when he walked in, taking his usual seat. He despised the looks his teammates gave them, and he refused to meet their gazes, his eyes focused on the paper before him.

“Simon.” Price starts.

“Ghost.” He corrects.

“I’m sorry.” Price clears his throat. “Ghost. We’re going back to that mission whe-“

“Why.” His voice is sharp.

“We’re going to search for a body.”

Simon can feel his heartbeat in his ear, and he can feel his face getting red. He doesn’t want to search for a body. Because not having a body meant you were still Missing In Action. It meant that there was still a chance you would come back to him, it meant that if he prayed hard enough, you would return to the place where you belonged. His arms.

Finding your body would mean that you would be Killed In Action, it would mean that he would need to find a crowbar and pry the pieces of God of out his body, a punishment for being abandoned. Finding you would mean that he had to accept that his mission had killed you, and he wasn’t ready to face that.

“No.” His answer was short.

“It has been three weeks.”

“I don’t care!” Simon slams his fist on the table to power up his words.

“We’re going and you can either join us or stay here.” Price gives him the choice.

And Simon doesn’t know what to do, because he wants to stay in the bubble he had created for himself, he wanted to believe that you would just show up, as an early Christmas present. And if he went to look for you, he’d know for certain you would never come back.

But he couldn’t let the other find you. It would be a betrayal towards you, he had sworn to protect you, he had already failed at that, the least he could do was bring your body home himself.

“I’m coming.”

His teammates look up, slightly confused, all of them had expected him to stay on base.

“Are you sure?” Soap breaks the silence.

“Do I have to repeat myself, sergeant?”

“Of course not Lieutenant.”

But Simon zones out quickly after that. His mind wandering towards the upcoming mission. Bringing you home. How would you look when he found you? Would you still be as pretty? How would your face look? He was worried, worried he’d find you with a terrified look on your face. Worried he would find you half dressed, your innocence taken away by the enemy. All he could be was worried.

 He doesn’t even register his teammates getting up and leaving the debriefing room.

“A word.” The stern voice of his captain snaps him out of it.

“What.”

“You can’t go on like this, Simon.”

“Ghost.”

“No. I’m talking to you as Simon.” Price answers. “I’ll allow you to go on this mission, as I understand how important it is to you, but after we’re back.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’m your captain and you listen to me.”

Simon can feel the muscle under his eye twitching, he hated it when Price reminded him that he outranked him, but he knew Price wouldn’t back off if it came to a standoff, although Price did seem like a sweet man, he had a lot of bark in him when needed.

“Yes captain.”

“When we’re back, I want you to take some leave, get some professional help. I can’t watch you drink yourself to death every night. I can’t keep covering for you to our higher ups, Simon. You deserve better than this.”

No, no, no. Simon felt as if he deserved exactly what he was given, after all, he had been the one to drag you along on that mission.

“If you say so.”

“Now, go prepare yourself. I can imagine it is going to be tough to get back there.”

Oh it was. Just the mere idea of going back to the place where he lost you was enough for Simon to get his stomach to churn. But he needed to go, he owed it to you, he owed it to himself.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

The words repeating themselves as a mantra inside his head. His heart dropping to his stomach when he has to wear a bulletproof vest again, the memories of him tugging on yours flooding his mind. Your innocent smile, the pout when you reminded him he had to do the dishes when the two of you would come back, a part of the deal he had made with you so you would come with him on that godforsaken mission. He can still feel the sensation of your skin under his knuckles when he playfully brushed them against your cheeks. Simon was desperate, he felt like he was drowning. In pain, anger and self-hatred, and you had always been his lifeline, helping him stay afloat. And now you were gone, by his doing and it takes everything in his being to not drop to his knees and wail. God, God, God. He missed you, your smile, your skin, your hair, your scent. Your eyes. He missed your eyes, they spoke a thousand stories and he was ready to read every word.

If only he could go back in time. But he can’t, instead he has to walk to the same chopper that flew the both of you to a mission, but only brought him back.

He closes his eyes and rests his head against the back of the chopper, after he has taken a seat, begging the universe to let him wake up from this horrible nightmare.

Simon knows he needs to find you now, alive and well, it would be his only chance to have you back again. He doesn’t want to find your body, he doesn't want to be met with the aftermath of that mission. No, no, no. He wants you to sit on a piece of rubble, patiently waiting for him to come pick you up.

He can’t accept your fate, because it isn’t fair. It wasn’t fair and it never, ever will be fair.

Right now you’re still Missing In Action, and right now he still has the chance to have you again.

It’s a horrible sight for the rest of his team, they know they want to help, but Simon pushes them all away, every single one of them gets shut out, no matter how hard to try to just be there for him. He wants you, and no one else is allowed to get close to him. Even with the skull mask on, and his eyes closed, they can all tell he is not doing well. But how does one console a grieving soldier that doesn’t want to be consoled?

Soap opens his mouth to say something, anything. He can’t stand his friend being in so much pain and he wants to know if there is something that he can do. But Price stops him, because Price knows how it is to grieve over someone he knows will never come back. Price knows that the feeling, how intense it may be in the moment, will eventually fade into something lighter, a feeling that is there, yet doesn’t weigh down on his chest so much.

And Simon doesn’t know, Simon doesn’t realise how much his coworkers, his friends are struggling with him. He doesn’t know how much they miss you too, how much they want you to sit on that piece of rubble when they arrive. They want you to, for your sake, for their sake, but most of all for Simon’s sake.

It is quiet when the chopper touches the ground, no one dares to get up first. No one wants to be the person to bring the bad news.

Price eventually decides that it is up to him. He is Simon’s captain after all, he was your captain after all. His eyes scan the area in front of him.

God, let you sit on that piece of rubble.

But you’re not, of course you’re not, and Price feel stupid for even allowing himself to have this bit of hope.

“Let’s go look for a body.” An order from his low voice.

Simon gets up from his seat, clinging on to the idea that it is all a big prank, a big joke, and that you are still on that piece of rubble, a payback because he bribes you into going on that mission.

It feels as if his legs are going to give out when he sees the area covered in rubble, dirt and pieces of the building you’d been in.

He needs to hold on to something, something to keep him steady while his body wants to shut down as his mind begins to flood again with the memories.

A flash grenade.

A fucking flash grenade had separated the two of you, and he should have seen it coming. He should’ve seen it happen, he should have protected you, but he didn’t. He can see the husk of the flash grenade stick out from between the debris, as if the universe is taunting him. He remembers being blinded, a loud ringing in his ears, and you were nowhere to be found. He remembers calling your name, yelling your name, screaming it, but he never got a response. He remembers that cold, sickening feeling when he tried to radio you, but he didn’t hear the radio, or you. He remembers a grenade going off near him. He remembers running there, hoping to find you, but you were never there, and he had to go back to the chopper empty handed. He remembers how the air suddenly became painful to breathe when you weren’t waiting at the chopper for him. He remembers how he had to make the choice to go back.

He remembers. He remembers. He remembers. He remembers.

A sudden wave of nausea waves over him, and he is just in time to pull up the mask and the balaclava, retching out sour vomit when it becomes too much. The guilt, the fear, the anger making their way up from his stomach.

He cleans his mouth with a sip of water. Simon can’t forget he is still a soldier, and he needs to be strong, for you, for himself. And when he feels like it is okay again, he joins the others, picking up large pieces of debris, hoping to find a sign of you, a little giveaway that you’re still very much alive and kicking.

He works hard, the desperation showing through his movements as he lifts up piece after piece. But you’re not there, all he finds is disappointment and the confirmation that his worst fear is becoming a reality. It is starting to become dark and Simon knows that they have to return back to base soon.

“Ghost.” Price calls out from the field.

“You might want to see this.”

But Simon doesn’t want to see this, because he knows that this can’t be good news. Simon knows from the tone and voice of his captain that if they have found you, you’re not alive.

His steps feel heavy, as if concrete is tied to his feet while he makes his way over to Price, stopping in his tracks when he sees your dog tags and the ball chain wrapped around his hand. The look in Price’s face tells him enough. They have found your dog tags, but not you.

You’re not coming home with him.

No, no, no. This couldn’t be, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You had to come home with him. At this point it was no longer about you being alive, it was about you coming home. He wanted, no he needed to see your pretty face one more time, he wanted to tell you that he loved you one more time.

Simon made his way over to Price, he needed to see if they were really your dog tags. They had to be someone else’s, they shouldn’t be yours, they couldn’t be yours. Dear God, anyone’s but yours.

They were yours.

Of course they were yours. He recognized them from afar, his vision getting blurry from the tears when he looked at the shiny metal. His mind was racing and he couldn’t think.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn’t think.

You had to be here, you just had to be. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the stinging pain of the glass shards on the floor. Raking his hands through the debris, tossing away concrete, stones, glass, everything to try and find you.

The leather on his gloves is strong, but not as strong as his love for you and it doesn’t take long for his blood to stain the broken pieces of building he was touching. He had to find you.

You had to come home to him, you just had to.

He can feel a hand on his shoulder but Simon ignores it. He just needs a little longer, he just needs a few more minutes.

“Simon.” The low bass in Price’s voice makes it impossible to ignore him. “We need to go back.”

“No.”

“It’s an order.”

It breaks Price, seeing his best soldier suffer like this. And Price himself doesn’t want to think about your fate. He hopes you’re still buried under all that rubble and debris, he prays that your dead body isn’t taken by the enemy, because he too knows how disgusting men can be.

“We have to go back.” Price usually doesn’t repeat himself, but he’ll make an exception, just his once.

Simon gets up from his knees, knowing that if he leaves now, he has to accept your fate, his fate, the fate of the relationship the two of you had.

“But.” Simon tries to protest.

“Don’t.” Price sighs. “It won’t get easier over time. Rip off the bandage, boy.”

Simons knows it is for the best, but by God did it hurt, he didn’t want to leave you, he didn’t want your status to be changed to Killed In Action, no he wanted you to be Missing In Action until the two of you reconnected again in the afterlife.

Simon holds out his hand, wanting to hold your dog tags. The only thing he is bringing home today.

He holds them the whole flight in the chopper, this thumb caressing the metal, memorizing the way your name is marked on the cold metal. He brings them to his lips, kissing them through the balaclava, hoping that you’ll feel his kiss in the afterlife.

Simon, Price, Soap, Gaz, they all know this can’t go on any longer, they all know this is breaking Simon, the infamous Ghost crumbling down at the loss of his beloved.

“A word.” Price doesn’t waste any time when they’re back to base.

“I know.” Simon sounds defeated as he follows him into an empty briefing room.

“This can’t go on like this, Simon.”

“I know, just.” Simon doesn’t want to talk, but he has to. “Just let me stay on base until the funeral is over.”

An empty casket.

Price would’ve denied anyone else, he would’ve told anyone else that the army wasn’t a babysitter, but he couldn’t deny the broken soul in front of him. He couldn’t risk losing his best soldier because he had sent him home too early.

“Of course.” Price finally answers. “But I want you to go to therapy when you’re on leave.”

Therapy. Simon finds it a filthy word. Because therapy would mean that something is wrong with him, and the only thing wrong is your death.

“I promise.” You would’ve wanted it for him.

Price had never expected Simon to agree so quickly, but he is glad Simon doesn’t put up much of a fight, although it worries him slightly.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Price warns him.

A faint smile forms on Simons lips. “The dumbest thing I ever did was bringi-“

“Stop.” Another order from Price. “You’re beating yourself up.”

“But it is my fault!”

Silence, because the both of them know that you still would’ve been alive if Simon hadn’t begged you to come with him. The both of them know that you would still be alive if you wouldn’t have gone on that mission. But Price could never tell Simon that, he could never bring his best soldier down even more.

“Get some rest.” Price orders. “I’ll make sure that.. that..” He struggles to find the words, but it’s clear what he means. He will make sure that you’re put to rest as soon as possible. Your empty casket into the ground, your dog tags the only evidence that you ever existed.

It is the worst day of Simon’s life. The flowers, the suit he is wearing, the people surrounding them. He had dreamed of the day this would happen, but you wouldn’t be gone, you’d be getting ready to marry him, and by God, every time he thinks his heart is ripped out of his chest, the claws of life dig deeper and rip out the remaining pieces of his love. And he catches himself looking for you, even though he knows you won’t arrive.

But his love for you is still inside of him, and he carries you wherever he goes.

Simon knows he has to speak, his final act of love towards you. You deserve it, even though your body is not here, you deserve to get a proper burial. But it’s hard, too hard. The worst part of that love is that he remembers it, walking around everyday thinking that he is going to die in the universe that you loved him in.

He clears his throat, heads snapping into his direction as he tries to brace himself. It’s easier to treat this as a mission. Saying what he needs to say, keep his voice from breaking and getting out.

His eyes shift to the empty casket on the left, and without his permission his vision starts to get blurry and his goddamn heart starts to ache again. God, God, God. How he wished the two of you could’ve met as kids, because he knew you would’ve loved the softer version of him.

Simon looks down at the paper before him, the little speech he wrote to honour you, but he can’t read it through his tears, so he has to speak the words from his heart.

“Since you happened, I’ve never been the same.” Off to a great start.

“I don’t know what’s more tragic, that I keep looking for you wherever I go. Or that you’re never there, and I promise you, someday, somewhere, we’ll be together again.” Fuck, he can’t keep his voice from breaking.

“Whiskey was easier to swallow than the fact that you aren’t coming back.” He is becoming a mess, for all to see. His feelings on display as if it were in a museum. “I’ve learned that I can drink too much and forget the night before. But I’ve learned I can’t drink enough to forget the people I’ve loved and lost.”

A sob interrupts his speech.

“I don’t know what to say to you, except that it tore the heart out of my body saying goodbye to you.”

He has to get out, he needs to breathe fresh air, he wants the grief in him to be replaced by the scent of fresh flowers and sunshine. Who knew losing his lover could turn a hardened soldier into a sobbing mess?

Someone hugs him, but he is too far gone to even register it. Those same arms, same hands guide him to his seat, and his mind is empty when he listens to the rest of the wake.

And now he is sitting in a comfortable chair, a therapist in front of him. Simon still doesn’t know why he accepted it. After all, he still believes that he should suffer from what he has done to you. If you didn’t deserve to live, why would he?

He filters out her voice as he concentrates to the ticking noise of the clock. These appointments feel like a waste of his time. But so does rotting in bed, so he keeps telling himself you would’ve wanted this for him, for him to seek the help he doesn’t feel he deserves.

71 days. The last time he saw you was 71 days. And for those 71 days he feels like an empty shell of an human. And the worst part? Your shirts no longer smell like you, he had to throw out your leftovers, the mold covering the food you had prepared, but he had tried to cling on to it for as long as he could.

71 days, and your voice is a mere memory, it sounds different on the video’s he has from you, and he is ashamed that he can’t remember the real sound anymore.

What would you think of him? God he hopes you can’t see him from the afterlife like this, a goddamn mess, the last time he took a shower must’ve been a week ago, and if he doesn’t go to his therapy session, all he does is, well, nothing. The time he has on this earth is waisted by staring at the wall, hours on end. Just staring, and when his mind is done beating him up for making the mistake of asking you to go on that mission with him, it’s just turned off.

A waste of space, a waste of oxygen, a waste of everything. A pathetic excuse of a human being.

“Simon.” The voice of his therapist snaps him out of it. “Are you okay? I’ve been talking to you for minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He grumbles.

She doesn’t believe him, he can feel it, and he can’t blame her, after all, most sessions are filled with an awkward silence, he doesn’t want to talk, and she learned that asking her questions gets her nowhere.

His mind wanders to your funeral again, how the empty casket is haunting him, how the nightmares about you being cold, dead and alone are haunting him, how even when he sleeps, he finds no peace from his mistake.

He can hear his therapist sigh, her long nails tapping on the clipboard, and it’s fucking annoying. He wants to tell her about the flashbacks, how he keeps relieving the mission, how he keeps replaying the last minute with you, he wants to, but he can’t. It is his secret, his punishment.

His therapist clears her throat. “Well, our time is up. Is there anything you’d like to discuss before we call it quits?”

“No.”

“Alright, see you again next week then, same time.”

With a scoff he gets up from the chair, ready to go home to embrace the darkness of his bed again.

The days are starting to look the same, they melt together in a blur of grief.

He lays in bed, unless he really has to get out. A quick visit to the bathroom and back to bed he goes. When he is unable to ignore his rumbling stomach, he orders some takeaway, just to eat it on the couch, the empty cartons starting to flood the place. But he doesn’t care, not in the slightest, he doesn’t care when he can see the mold on the little pieces of food left in the pizza box.

He doesn’t care when he can smell himself whenever he gets into the bedroom again, he doesn’t care when he rewatches the same show for the fifth time, not a care in the world when his screentime is over sixteen hours a day. He doesn’t care when he stops answering texts, he doesn’t care when calls are met with a loud sigh, annoyed that they’re interrupting the game he was playing.

Simon despises the days he has to go to therapy, it is the only day in the week where he has to get up, shower, wash his hair and brush his teeth. It is the only day of the week where the rotten air from home is replaced by fresh outside air, and he hates it, the comfort of his home being ripped away, just like you got ripped away.

His legs bounces while he sits in the waiting room, he still feels as if he doesn’t belong to therapy, while he knows that there is something wrong, he doesn’t want to admit it, he doesn’t want to accept the help.

He frowns when he gets called in by someone else than his usual therapist, but he goes in anyway.

“Where is she?” He asks bluntly as he goes to sit down in the same comfortable chair he always sit in.

“Who?”

“My usual therapist.”

The woman in front of him frowns. “She didn’t feel as if she was booking process with you, so she asked me to take over. Didn’t she tell you?”

Simon can only shrug, truth be told, he never paid enough attention to even remember anything from those sessions. “Could be.”

Her lips press together until they are a faint line and Simon can tell he doesn’t like her one bit.

“Let me introduce myself.” She continues. “My name is Sarah, and I’m…” He zones out within seconds, pushing her voice to the background.

“Simon!” She has a fucking sharp voice.

“What.”

“I’m talking to you.”

Simon raises an eyebrow, this is the first time a therapist has been this direct to him. “Right.” He mumbles. “Continue.”

“Did you get anything I just said?” Sarah asks him.

“Well, your name is Sarah, and..” His voice dies out. “That’s all.” He adds with a sheepish tone.

“Why are you here, Simon?” She asks him, as she holds the clipboard to her chest.

Because my captain asked me to.

But he stays silent, just shrugging as she asks him that question.

“Do you even want to be here?”

Simon frowns at the second question, of course he doesn’t want to be here. “No.”

“Then why bother coming anyway?”

Because you would’ve been so disappointed in him if he didn’t at least try. But Simon knows that what he is doing isn’t even close to trying at all. It is just easier to lie to himself that he is trying.

“Because..” His voice his hoarse.

Because he wants to get rid of that feeling of guilt, that is weighing him down on his chest, the feeling that keeps him up at night, being so heavy that he worries that he’ll suffocate in the matrass if he acknowledges it. Because he wants to deal with the grief that came with losing you, because every little thing outside of the routine that he has created for himself reminds him of you. Because he wants to be happy again, but just the mere thought of it feels like a betrayal to you.

Because, because, because.

But the words leave him, just like he left you there to die by yourself, and the thought of that tightens his chest, his ribs suffocating his lungs and it feels like he can’t breathe. Short burst of air leaving his nose when he tries to wipe away the image. That familiar feeling again, a panic attack waiting in the shadows of his mind.

God not here, not now.

But Sarah doesn’t react, she doesn’t try to talk him out of it, instead she just lets it happen, observing how he handles it.

His hands pressing against his temples. He doesn’t want to think about you, about leaving you, he doesn’t want to be confronted by his mistake.

Deep breath in through your mouth, exhaling out your nose.

He remembers the advice you gave him, you’d walked in on him having one as he sat down on the shower floor. He tries to remember your voice, your face when you said it to him. But he can’t. Fuck. He can’t.

He loves you, so why is he forgetting it? Why is your face becoming a blur. Why is your voice different in every memory.

Deep breath in through your mouth, exhaling out your nose.

The panic dies out after a few deep breaths, guilt popping up like the mushrooms do around autumn.

“Why are you here, Simon?” Sarah repeats the question.

“Because I can’t live like this anymore.”

“Like what?”

A scowl forms on his face, he hates feeling this vulnerable, it makes him feel weak and he still feels as if he should overcome this with ease. “Living in my own filth because I can’t be bothered to actually live.”

“Why can’t you be bothered to actually live, Simon?”

For fuck sakes, he hates how many questions she is asking, he hates how it forces him to think about things he doesn’t want to think about, things he has crammed away in the shadows of his mind.

“Because I don’t deserve it!” His voice is louder than he wanted it to be, but part of him hopes it scares her off, that it makes her stop asking questions.

But it doesn’t, Sarah doesn’t bat an eye.

“Why do you feel as if you don’t deserve to live?”

Because you didn’t get to live.

“Because I killed her, I begged her to come with me on a mission that killed her. I am the reason she is no longer walking on this earth. She said no the first time and I’m a selfish asshole for taking her with me!” God it feels good to get that off his chest.

Sarah stays silent, and the silence causes his words to float in the air.

“She said yes herself, right?” Sarah eventually says. “Why are you holding yourself accountable for that?”

“Because she said no the first time. And I bribed her with doing the dishes.” He spat out.

God he hated how Sarah would let his answers linger in the air, it meant he had to think, think about what happened, think about his answers, think about how actions, how it affected everything.

How he would never give himself peace.

“Because I keep wondering how life would’ve been if I had accepted her first no, I wonder how I would be if she wouldn’t have gone with me. Because. I. I. I.” Simon starts to stutter, the words flooding out him, things he had kept hidden to rot inside of him.

“Because I know that she would’ve been alive if it wasn’t for me.” A tiny voice for a big soldier.

“You can’t change what happened, Simon.”

Of course he can’t! Fuck, it annoys him. “I know.” He grits his teeth.

“Do you think she would want you to live like this?”

Fuck, a cold sensation running over him, his stomach feels as if it is doing summersaults.

“No, no, I don’t think so.” He eventually admits. Of course not, you would only want the best for him, you would’ve wanted him to move on, to make something out of his life. Oh God, you were always so sweet, so innocent, and he, he took you away from this world.

That same feeling in his chest again, he presses his eyes shut.

The image of that fucking flash grenade sticking out of the debris again. Haunting him, taunting him.

As the tightness in his chest gets worse, he can’t stop the hot tears falling down.

Fucking weak.

“Simon.”

“Simon?”

“Simon!”

Sarah’s voice brings him back to reality, but not just enough, flashbacks running through his mind while he tries to feel the fabric of the chair under his fingertips.

“Tell me what is happening, Simon.”

Short, quick breaths, the tightening in his chest becoming worse, and worse.

“Simon? Tell me what you’re seeing, right now.”

He wants to open his eyes, he wants it to stop, but this is the clearest he has seen you in weeks. He doesn’t want to lose this, even though it hurt like something he has never felt before. He wants it to stop, but he doesn’t want it to end.

“The mission.” He mutters.

Silence again. He hates how Sarah lets him struggle with his emotions, his feelings, and he wants his old therapist back, whatshername, who would fill up the silence so he wouldn’t have to.

“I keep replaying the mission in my head.” Simon adds.

“Tell me.” Sarah commands. “Walk me through what is happening.”

“It always starts the same.” He begins. “Always.”

“How does it start?”

“We’re waiting for the chopper. We’re both wearing a bulletproof vest, and I make sure hers is safe. I tug on it a little, a few times actually. I would brush the skin of her cheeks with my knuckles.” It is a whisper, but it is a start.

“And then we move to the chopper, she is sitting next to me, and all I see is her beauty. It was supposed to be an easy mission and she is talking, talking about how she will let me do all the dishes she can find, she is teasing me about having to wear an apron while I’m doing the dishes.” His breathing is starting to get more controlled.

“It was supposed to be an abandoned area.” Simon continues, his hands gripping the armrest of the chair. “I let my guard down, we were joking too much, laughing too hard. The enemy must’ve heard us. And then, then, then.”

“Stop.” Sarah says. “Put the film on hold, and tell me what you see.”

“I see her, the sun high on the sky, a smile on her face, not a worry in her eyes. And then I spot the flash grenade. And I want to warn her, but it’s too late.” Simons starts.

“Okay.” No it’s not okay.

“Can you put yourself in the image?”

“What?”

“Put yourself in the situation, standing alongside yourself and her.”

Silence again.

“Can you do it, Simon?”

“Yeah.” He mutters, feeling awkward, but he can, standing next to himself and next to you.

“Is there anything you’d like to say to her?”

His heart starts to race again. Yes, yes, yes! There are so many things he would like to say to you, so many things that he wants you to hear, but that will never reach you.

“I. I. I want to tell that I’m so, so sorry.” He begins. “I want to say that I should’ve listened to her, that if I could do it all over again, I would do it differently.”

He holds back a sob.

“I want to tell her that I will always love her, that she will always be a part of me, no matter what happens, no matter how old I grow, no matter who comes in to my life, she will always matter.” The raw words leave his lips, dragging the heavy feeling from his heart with them, leaving him able to breathe for the first time in months.

“Can you hug her?”

What a stupid question. But he can, and he does, he presses his eyes shut and hugs you, and although it is in his imagination, it feels real, for him it is real. The version of you that got one more hug, tells him that he is forgiven, and it brings a little bit of peace to him.

Simon finally opens his eyes again. “God.” He breathes.

“How does that feel?” Sarah asks.

“Better.” He admits.

“Good.” Is that a smile on her lips?

“Are you going to be able to handle being alone?” Sarah breaks the silence.

“Yeah.” And for the first time it does feel like he is able to handle being alone. For the first time he wants to go outside, to breathe the fresh air. Hell, he even wants to grab the bin and clean the house.

He wants to live again.

243 days.

God it has been 243 days. And while his grief for you is a token of the love he holds for you, life is moving on, Simon is moving on. He no longer spends his days and nights in his bed, instead he goes out, out in the open, out to visit a coffee shop, a bookstore, the park.

He treats life as if he had died and had begged God for a second chance, taking in every detail of the beauty of life.

243 days. He has missed your birthday, you have missed his. But don’t worry, he took a cupcake to your empty grave and sang for you. You still visit him in his dreams, and while he still wakes up missing you, longing for you in his bed, he is grateful to have you visit him even if it is through his nightmares and dreams.

He no longer has therapy sessions with Sarah, although they have helped him a whole lot, he is okay by himself, the flashbacks no longer taunt him and when this mind wanders back to that day, he can put himself back in the narrative, telling you that he loves you, that he wishes life could have been different.

Simon even went back to work, not to his full extend yet, that is a little too much, just yet. But he is getting there, and he hopes that you’re proud of him.

The grieving has become easier over time, and with it came a little bit of guilt, for the longest time it felt like he was forgetting you.

But he is not. You’ll always have a spot in his heart, he can never really forget you. Although he can only remember your face from the pictures and video’s, he remembers you. Although your voice isn’t the same in every dream, flashback or video, he still remembers you. You left your mark on his heart and he won’t get rid of it.

Simon takes in the ambiance of the little coffeeshop that he is in, waiting for his date to arrive. Sophie had been a nice girl, she isn’t you, obviously she isn’t you, and it took him a few weeks to get used to it. He stopped looking for you in her eyes, and while she will never leave such a mark on him as you did, she is pretty amazing. Simon told her upfront about you, how you always be a part of his life, through his work, through the apartment he shared with you, through him. And Sophie was okay with that, Sophie had no intention to replace you, no Sophie knew that she could live alongside Simon’s love for you.

A smile breaks out on his face when he spots here, a little wave following quick.

“There you are!” Happiness in his voice.

“Yeah, sorry I’m late.” You were never late.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad you’re here.” She kisses him on his cheek after those words.

And it took him a while, but he can smile after the small gesture, it no longer feels like a betrayal towards you, after all, he would’ve wanted you to move on too, it is only fair that he allows himself the same.

His eyes soften when he smiles at her, it was like a tug at his heart strings that he had long ago thought were cut.

“Going back to the taskforce.” Simon eventually says.

That piques her interest. “For long?”

“Nah, it’s for a birthday party.” Simon shrugs.

A little bit of an awkward air lingers around the both of them, neither of them sure what to say next. Sophie wants to ask if she can come, but she respects his space too much, she respects the walls around him too much to just barge in and demand he takes them down. Besides, the base is the only place where she hasn’t stepped foot in to replace you.

On the other side of the table is Simon, wanting to invite you, but worried that he is just using her to drive out the memories of you, worried that his teammates will think that he is getting over you way too quick. Worried that people will judge the level of love he has for you.

“So,” Simon clears his throat. “It’s Soap’s birthday, and we’re celebrating tomorrow evening.”

“And I know we haven’t been dating for long, but maybe, maybe you’d like to come?”

A deep breath. No reaction.

“Yes.” Sophie smiles while she talks. “Yes, I would like that. I’ve heard a lot about them, can’t wait to finally meet them.”

A smile tugs around his lips. “Good, good.”

“So, I’ll pick you up around 7ish, and I’ll drive us to base. Just wear something casual, they’re soldiers, so don’t expect anything too fancy.”

Even after 243 days he can’t help but feeling like a traitor, inviting another woman to the base the two of you used to serve at.

Sophie smiles at him, her worries melting away at his relaxed demeanour.

“8ish.” She repeats. “I’ll make sure to be casually dressed.” She presses a kiss on his cheek again. “I have to get back to my work, but it was nice to see you in my lunchbreak.”

Simon lets out a sigh when he is all alone in the coffeeshop again. Oh how life went different than he had hoped, but he was content. His eyes take in the scenery once more.

You would have loved it here.

He puts his car into park while he waited for Sophie to get out of her apartment, his leg bouncing against the steering wheel, he could feel himself getting nervous, as if he would bring Sophie in to your territory. As if he would take away the final thing on this mortal earth that was only yours. Simon tried to push those thoughts away when he saw Sophie leave her house, a bright smile on her face. He could see that she had tried to dress casual, but it was a little too perfect to be casual, and it warmed his heart.

She kissed him when she entered his car. It was endearing to him, all feelings of guilt being pushed to the side when his lips touched hers.

“You look amazing.” He complimented her. A soft blush forming on her face. Her hand rested on his knee when he started the drive. It was quiet and he still wasn’t used to it. You, his teammates, his captain, the lot of you would always tease him about his bad driving skills. But not Sophie, she was missing out on the inside joke.

“It can be quite rowdy on base.” Simon warned her.

“That’s okay.” She said with a faint smile.

“Good, good.” He muttered.

A soft squeeze on his knee, and a smile formed on his lips.

Simon tried to focus on the road, pushing away every single thought inside of his mind. He shouldn’t feel guilty for moving on, he shouldn’t feel guilty for bringing his new girlfriend to his base. He shouldn’t be so nervous about his teammates meeting Sophie.

He shouldn’t. But he was.

A deep breath emerged from his lips when he parked the car on the base, taking in the atmosphere.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Ready.” She nodded.

When he exited the car, he took in his base, the memories of you flooding in again. Sophies hand in his shook him out of it, and he smiled at her.

He let in the commotion, the rowdy, loud cheering happening all around.

“Simon!” Price calling out over the parking lot. “We have something you should see.”

244 days.

You finally can remember it all. How Simon begged you to come with him on this mission, something he could’ve done by himself easily, but he tried to sweettalk you, bribe you, just anything so he wouldn’t have to go alone.

And you fell for it. How could you not? After all, he promised you he’d do the dishes, and you hated doing the dishes.

You remember Simon double checking your gear, softly tugging on the bulletproof vest to make sure that it was safe and secure. He always made sure you were safe and secure, no matter what happened, Simon had made it clear that you were his number one priority. You, and you alone.

The moment of eye contact that follows after always makes your heart flutter, the little lines next to his eyes when his lips tug to a smile, it is enough to make your stomach do a million summersaults. The moment you smile, and the little apples of your cheeks start to rise, he brushes his knuckles against the sensitive skin on your face. The callouses on his knuckles was something that you always enjoyed feeling, a little routine before a mission. Something you always held dear.

It didn’t matter that he was wearing his mask on the chopper flight to the area you had to scout. You could see in his eyes how much he was smiling every time you added something on the list of dishes, the fine lines around his eyes, the sparkle in his eyes.

A gasp. “I’ll let you even wash the food dish of the cat.”

“Lovie, we don’t have a cat.” His voice sounds amused.

“Nuh uh, I’ve been feeding the strays that live just outside the base.” You protest.

“Fine, fine, fine.” It isn’t even a real protest, Simon would do anything to make you happy.

“AND.” Your voice sounds happy, as if you just got the best idea ever known to man. “You have to wear an apron.”

“An apron?”

“Yeah, I still have a pink one.”

“Fine.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, but I’m wearing nothing underneath it.” Simon snickers.

“Deal!”

“And, you can only look but you can’t touch.” He adds.

“But that’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, lovie.”

Life indeed wasn’t fair.

Because the next thing you remember is a white flash, ringing in your ears and a lot of stumbling. A lot of pain when you tumbled down the stairs. You can remember Simon calling for you, screaming your name and you want to react, but your body doesn't allow you to.

Another loud noise, and you realise that a grenade must’ve gone off when you’re getting covered by debris.

It is dark when you wake up again, the sensation of someone tugging on your ankles is waking you up, your body hurts and you’re disorientated, your eyes flutter as you try to stay awake, as you try to grasp what has happened. The men towering over you speak a language you don’t understand, and frankly, there is nothing you understand at the moment.

Who are you? And why are you here?

One of the men pulls you up, his hands under your armpits as he drags you away, your skin is grey from the dust and debris and as your eyes finally focus you can see the fear in the eyes of the people around you.

You desperately try to remember, your brain knows there is something hidden inside, something that would explain all of it, but you can’t. You can’t seem to find the key to the door inside of you that hold all the information you need.

Your dog tags get caught on a pole of metal sticking out of the rubble, and you groan a little when it cuts off your airflow, even if it is for a brief moment. Neither you or the man carrying you realise how important those dog tags are. But of you are just focussed on getting you out of there.

Another groan when the ground gets more uneven, sharp pain being unbearable with every bump. You try so, so, so hard to stay away, but your body tries to protect you against the pain, and before you know it your eyes start to roll back, and it gets dark again.

When you wake up again, you’re in a bed, stripped of your belongings, but a variety of bandages around your limbs, a woman speaks to you in a hushed tone, but you can’t understand the language they’re speaking. A soft groan leaves your lips as you try to speak, but your throat is dry and everything hurts.

Later, you learn that you’re taken in by the local villagers, who have been tormented by the war for the longest time. The same war you and Simon participated in, the same war where you were convinced you were on the right side, only to learn that there are only losers when it comes to war.

As the universe continues your injuries start to heal, and while you still don’t speak a word of their language, the villagers are nice to you, almost as if caring for you is just what they need to take their mind of the running war in their area. You know something is missing, you can’t remember your name, age, your life, Simon. Nothing. Not an ounce of recognition when they show you your torn up uniform. Not an ounce of recognition when you hold up a mirror in front of your face.

Not an ounce of recognition when the local men are shouting against each other, and while you can’t make out what they’re saying, you know it is about you, the way they point and glare, the way they call you a fucking filthy Brit. The other half of the group of men is a lot more quiet, they plead, and you can only imagine it is for your life, yet you do not fear for it.

What is a life worth if you can’t remember it?

But they let you live, and while you’re not sure why, you end up being thankful for it. At night you always end up dreaming about the same things, it is almost like clockwork, either you dream about yourself, walking around a maze, which seems to be without end, a skull mask in the middle of the maze. You always, always wake up whenever you find the mask.

The other dreams is about a faceless man, tugging on the bulletproof vest you wore when you were found, his knuckles brushing against the apples of your cheeks. He tries to shield you before the white flash goes off, but your dreams never reveal his face to you.

One time they dragged you back to the area where they had found you, a black chopper had landed nearby and you could make out that they wanted to know if the men rummaging the area seemed familiar to you.

But they didn’t. Four tall men, and while they wore the same uniform as you, none of them rang a bell inside your mind. You shook your head, implying you didn’t know them, no matter the matching uniforms. Not even the heartbroken screams from the masked man could crack open your memories.

Looking back, when the dreams started to come, you knew you recognized the mask one of them was wearing, it was the exact same as you would always find in the maze, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember the face beneath it.

Slowly, but surely small glimpses of your life started to seep into your mind again, droplets of memories coming back. The smell of oatmeal brought a snippet of your childhood back, the memories of it being breakfast, and secretly feeding a spoonful to the dog.

With every little dot you could connect to your former, came an explanation to the people around you, with a lot of gestures, and some drawing, you could get your point across.

The smell of lavender brought you back to the house of your grandma, the strong scent always lingered in her house, and if you pressed your eyes shut and let the sun settle down on your skin, you could go back to that time.

While you peel off the skin of an orange you’re hit with a new memory, your breath hitching in your throat as your mind slowly makes the memory clear. You’re peeling an orange, a large hand holding on to your thigh as you peel the fruit. “Thanks lovie.” The gruff voice sounds so clear when you remember it, as if he is in the room with you and you know that it is someone important to you, as your body warmed up when you remember his voice.

But you just remember his voice, and not his name.

It would frustrate the living shit out of you, knowing that there is so much more memories hidden away in you, and you just can’t seem to remember them. You know that there is so much more to you, yet you’re unable to discover your own secrets.

When you’re stargazing, late at night, a new memory pops up, the masked man laying next to you in the grass, while the both of you look up at the stars, in the corner of your eye you can see him takes his mask off, the balaclava being pulled up to his nose, before he leans over and presses a kiss on your lips.

The realisation dawns on you, and while you can’t remember his name, it is clear that he is important for you, that you are important to him, and a cold feeling comes over you when you realise you let him slip between your fingers just because you didn’t recognize him. A knot in your chest as you try to remember who he is, who you are, why you were wearing the uniform. Panic taking over when your mind can’t answer your questions. The knot in your chest spreads through your body and soon you find yourself unable to breathe. Short, desperate burst in which you try to suck in as many air as you can.

Deep breath in through your mouth, exhaling out your nose.

Fuck.

You remember, you remember walking in on him having a panic attack, you remember kneeling down to him, telling him to take a deep breathe in through his mouth, exhaling out his nose. You remember. You remember walking in on Simon.

Simon.

A loud sob leaves your mouth and your hand claws at your chest as you remember. You remember all the kisses, the three squeezes on your shoulder, or your bicep when he couldn’t tell you he loved you but still wanted you to know, you remember all the late evenings and lazy mornings.

Oh you finally remember.

Your loud sobs wake up the people who had cared for you, they’re worried and you can’t yet explain if the tears are from happiness or agony. But it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter because you finally remember. You could be described as hysterical when you point to your old uniform, back to yourself, trying to tell them that you DO remember, that you DO know who you are.

And never had you imagined how easy it would be to go back to your old life. You’d learn that you would be considered missing and killed in action for more than eight months now.

Eight months. You had missed 244 days of Simon’s life, and he had missed those days in yours.

The ambassy was kind enough to listen to your story, your fingerprints confirming your identity. K.I.A flashing the screen when they pull up your information. And you want nothing more than to go home, to feel safe in his embrace again. You’re not allowed to call him, since the two of you aren’t married he isn’t your legal contact person, and you have to wait, but you’ve waited 244 days, how much more will a few more hours hurt?

God, how you have missed him, with the returning memories, the feeling of longing for him also came back, and right now the only thing you wanted in life was to hold him again, to feel him again, to be his again.

The rest of the trip goes by fast, your mind can barely cope with the returned memories, let alone process what is happening when they put you back on a plane to your base, but you can feel the excitement, the love, oh you can feel it all.

Just like you can feel the dread seep into your bones when you see him, holding another woman’s hand.

Your old teammates cheer when they see you, and you’re overwhelmed by the familiar feeling washing over you, all the successful mission you’ve celebrated with them, all the losses you have encountered and overcome with them. They’re your family and you’re so grateful to see them again.

But someone is missing.

Price drags him along, and your heart stops when you see him. Simon.

Your smile fading away when you see him holding hands with someone else, a woman you’ve never seen before. Fuck.

He has moved on and you can’t blame him. You’ve been gone for more than eight months, and you’re so, so, so proud that he has overcome this. You’re proud that he didn’t let himself rot away, give up on life. But by God, does it hurt.

His eyes widen, pupils dilate when he spots you, long strides to meet you as soon as possible and you can see his hand letting go of hers, but she holds on, even if that means that he kind of drags her along.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

She finally let go off his hand.

Two.

One final steps and his lips crash on yours, kissing you with an intensity you’ve never felt from him before. His hands all over your face, fingers entangled in your hair, his lips hungry for a taste of you, a taste he thought was long forgotten, but he now remembers and so desperately craves. It’s a goddamn messy kiss, and it feels as if the both of you are fifteen again, and this is your first kiss ever, but you don’t mind, you would rather have fifteen million of these kisses, than never kiss him again.

Eventually he has to pull back, a reminder for the both of you to breathe. He presses his forehead against yours.

“I even washed the cat dishes.” A soft whisper and enough to break to ice, to make you smile again as you wrap your arms around him, the woman behind him catching your eyes. God, she looks miserable, but you can’t blame her.

Simon follows your gaze, letting go off you, almost as if he has been caught doing something bad. His throat feels dry as he looks from you to Sophie, he loves both these woman, but the way he loves them is different. The atmosphere in the air shifts, and a certain amount of awkwardness fills the air, the joy surrounding you dying down quick.

Price clears his throat. “I’m sure you all have a lot of catching up to do. The briefing rooms are empty.” Not a very subtle hint, but all three of you get it. Simon is the first to move, taking your hands in his, holding on tight, afraid he will lose you again if you slip between his fingers. As the three of you walk towards a briefing room you look towards your right, the woman next you has her head bowed down and you can see a mix of emotions on her face. You want to reach out, say something to her, but what can you possible say to her to make this easier?

The tension is thick in the air when you reach the briefing room. “Can I have a word with you, Simon?” Sophie asks, it is the first time you’ve heard her voice, and she sounds sweet. Simons eyes shift to you. “In private.” She adds, that same sweet voice now holding a sharp tone.

His eyes meet yours again, almost as if he is asking you for permission, and you nod. They both go into the briefing room next to the one you’re in, and you sit down on a chair, being as close as possible to the wall, you know you shouldn’t eaves drop, but you need to know what they are discussing.

“Listen.” It’s Simons voice. “I never thought this would happen, Sophie.”

Sophie.

It’s a lovely name, she seems lovely, the whole situation is just fucked.

“No one thought this would happen, but what matters is what you’re going to do, Simon.”

You perk up, ear pressed against the wall, hoping to God you can make out what he will answer. It stays quiet and all you can hear is your own heartbeat thumping in your ears.

And in the other room Simon doesn’t know what to do, what to say, he stares at the woman in front of him, knowing full well that the love of his life is sitting in the room next to them.

Truth be told, he had loved Sophie, he wouldn’t have been with here if he didn’t. But his love for Sophie always was paired with the loss of you, he knew he wouldn’t never loved her the way he loves her now if you never went on that mission with him. He knows that the love he felt for her was his heart trying to replace you.

“I..” But it is hard for him to say it, it is hard to break a person while only thirty minutes ago the both of them were on their way to meet his teammates.

“You’re choosing her?” Sophie’s voice is far from amused.

“Yes.” Simons begins, nervously fidgeting with his hands. “But you have to understand, it’s not an easy thing for me to do.”

“It’s not easy for you to do?” Sophie’s words are laced with venom, and you can understand why. You’re the ghost of his past, while she should have been the ghost of his future, and there you were, suddenly showing up, taking away the relationship she thought she had.

“Do you have ANY idea how this is for me?” Sophie continued. “I’ve BEEN there for you, Simon! I’ve sat with you while you cried about her, I’ve let you tell countless stories about her.”

“I know, and I’m so-“

“I’m not done yet.” The words are spat out. “I’ve been to her fucking empty grave! Asking for fucking permission to be with you! I’ve sat there, telling her how I’ll never replace her, but live alongside her fucking ghost. And now you just toss me to the side as a fucking used up doll?”

Simon is taken aback by the, for him, sudden outburst. He had been so caught up with his own healing process, his own grieving, that the thought of it weighing down other people never occurred to him. “You went to her grave?”

“Yes! I’ve learned how to fit myself inside her shadow, I’ve seen you look disappointed whenever I was a little late, or when I would kick out my shoes at the door, I’ve seen you compare me to her the whole goddamn time and this whole relationship I’ve been competing with someone we both thought was dead!”

“I didn’t knew you felt this way.”

“Because you never fucking asked, Simon, because it has always been about you and her and me, and never just about you and me.”

“That’s not true.” He protests. “Maybe in the beginning, but I’ve learned to love you for you.”

“Then why are you looking at her like that, huh?”

“Because.” Simon takes a deep breath, he knows he has to rip off the bandage, it isn’t fair for Sophie to continue this, he knows where his heart lies, and while it was with Sophie, the moment you came back into the picture, the floodgates within his heart had been opened and his love for you is pouring out. “Because it will always be her.”

“I don’t blame you Simon.” Sophie’s voice starts to crack. “But sometimes I wish we never met each other.”

“Don’t say that. You’re an amazing person, pretty, smart.”

“Oh cut the bullshit.” Sophie hisses. “I’m all that, yet I’m not enough for you to choose me. I helped you grieve over someone who would always be your number one choice. I had been warned by my friends and I so desperately wanted you to be different. But I guess you are just a simple man after all.”

And those words stung Simon, more than he would ever realise, he hated how much of a cliché he had become. Yes he had thought he was fully over you, and yes he had thought he could’ve moved on, but now that he had to choose between Sophie and you, it was clear as day who he loved more.

“I wish I could’ve been something more.” Sophie’s words are a soft whisper.

“And for someone else you will be.”

After that there is just silence, two ex-lovers looking at each other. One over the moon because his lost lover returned to him. The other heartbroken after she realised he never fully choose her.

“Do you want me to bring you home?” Simon asks, realizing he had been her ride.

“No. I’d rather walk.”

“Don’t be stubborn, let me either bring you home or pay for your cab.”

“I’ll fucking manage, Simon. I don’t need your pity after you took out my heart and stomped on it.”

Sophie is still pissed, but neither you or Simon can blame her for it, and part of you wished things could’ve been different, part of you wished you had died that day, that he could’ve fully moved on from you. But that part is small, tiny and crumbled up hiding in your brain as you feel guilty.

You can hear someone stomp past the door of the room you’re sitting in, and the door slowly creaks before you see Sophie. It’s an awkward silence, you’ve clearly been caught listening to them, and you can see the light reflecting the tears on her cheeks.

“No matter how mad I am at Simon.” Sophie begins, and you brace yourself for an outburst. “It isn’t your fault.”

You had expected her to be angry at you too, but she isn’t.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter. “You never deserved any of this.”

A soft smile breaks out on Sophie’s face. “I didn’t.” She agrees. “But I’ve learned some things about myself, and when the sadness is over that will be worth something.”

You smile back at her, in another life the two of you could’ve been friends, but not here, not in this life. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For keeping him sane.”

“It wasn’t easy.”

“He isn’t easy.”

Sophie laughs and a bit of the tension melts away between the two of you.

“Just.. Simon is a good guy, no matter how much I wanted to strangle him.” Sophie starts. “But he cares about you, a lot, more than he can ever care about himself or someone else. And you care that much about him too, I can see it in your eyes, in his eyes. It wasn’t a coincidence that the universe brought the two of you together.”

“Thank you.” Sophie’s words are warm, and you can see why Simon had loved her. “I hope you find your Simon.”

“I will. I might even hang out on the base a little longer and get myself a colonel or something.”

The both of you can’t help but chuckle at her comment.

“I hope life will treat you well.”

“I wish you the same.”

After that she turns around and walks away, and you can’t help but stare. Sophie had handled it better than you would’ve done, and you can’t help but admire her for that.

Simon pops his head through the open door. “I’m not easy?” He snickers.

“Don’t be like that.”

He steps into the briefing room, closing the door behind him. “You’re not mad?”

“For what?”

“For dating Sophie.”

“Well, I would be lying if I said that it didn’t tear my heart out when I saw you holding her hand.” You admit. “But I’ve always told you that I wanted you to move on in case I passed away earlier than you.”

“Fair, but I can’t help but feel as if I betrayed you.”

“You would’ve betrayed me if you would’ve let yourself rot away in bed.”

You can’t help but look up as he stands before you. “I’ve missed you.” He whispers as he leans closer.

“I’ve missed you too.” You murmur back before he presses his lips against yours.

[theflyingpimphat]

10 bad romance tropes

Ah yes, how to best celebrate the holiday of love by grinching it up. Now, what exactly does someone who doesn’t read or watch romance and mostly gets annoyed by the romantic subplots has to say on this matter? Well, unfortunately, romance is present almost everywhere in the form of said subplots and since I am pretty disinterested in the romance itself, maybe the focus on the other things that come with it like the characters’ personality or development might provide some insights past the heart eyes.

First, a few disclaimers:

-This is highly opinionated. It is not directed against you. If you genuinely like these tropes and enjoy exploring them in the safe environment of media, that is perfectly fine, as regardless of how strong my opinions on these tropes are, policing harmless interests is worse.

-To illustrate the tropes, I’ll use the names “Alice” and “Bob” as examples. However, the tropes also apply to Alice and Beate, Alan and Bob, or Ay:liss and Bo'orrb. It also applies if you switch the names around.

Rest under the cut to save you the scrolling if you're not interested.

Romanticised abuse

Bob stalks Alice, discourages her from going out with her friends and sometimes locks her in his basement, but it's all because of how much he luuuurves her and is concerned with ther safety! Sooo romantic!

Why is this bad?

-There is romance, and there is abuse. At worst case, someone who had gone through the abuse that is being romanticized will be put off by the story, or someone young and inexperienced could take the wrong lessons from it and either pursue relationships with shitheads that will abuse them or land in an abusive relationship and not see it for what it is.

What would be better?

-Depict the abuse as abuse. Yes, sometimes people will explain away their abuse as love, but there is a difference between a character's opinion and the message the story itself conveys.

2. Massive power imbalance

Alice is a billionaire, has bought up half the city, is a martial arts professional, an expert gunfighter, has five PhDs and on top of that, she's an archvampire who can rip a man apart with no effort. Bob is an ordinary man who dropped out of school, gets winded when he has to go up the stairs of more than two floors and is her janitor.

Why is this bad?

-Mind you, such relationships can be written well, but if the power imbalance is large, you will always wonder if the weaker party actually consents to the stronger party's actions or only agrees to them out of fear for the repercussions a denial might result in.

What would be better?

-Balance it out or make the consent between the two parties clear by letting them talk about it regularly.

3. Relationship is mainly detrimental for one of the characters

Alice is a bumbling idiot who constantly lands herself in trouble and needs Bob to save and protect her. Alternatively, Bob is a deadbeat who loads off all the housework to Alice and she barely has time for herself because of it.

Why is this bad?

-Ask yourself: would the character be happier if they had a blow-up doll with their significant other's face printed on it instead of their actual partner? If yes, maybe their relationship sucks.

What would be better?

-Make the characters mutually benefit from each other. And no, "but they really luuurve each other" or "the seggs is sooo amazing" doesn't count.

4. No common interests, just romance

Alice loves Bob. Bob loves Alice. That's all you can say about them.

Why is this bad?

-A relationship like that would be just smooching and maybe screwing. It would have no other substance. You would ask yourself: but why do they love each other?

What would be better?

-Let them have common interests, hobbies they do together, just any activities that aren't tied to showing how powerful, loving or fuckable the character is.

5. Enemies to lovers

Alice and Bob repeatedly attempted to kill each other at the start and there was a mutual hate between them, but their attempts to kill each other got them both so horny that they are getting married next week.

There, I said it. Bring out the torches and pitchforks, but I just find this trope terrible. From my own experience, every "friend" with whom I have started out on poor terms turned out to be a massive backstabber, so I won't buy such a romance as genuine.

Why is this bad?

-Who is to say they are lovers now and not just pretending, so they can strike when the other is most vulnerable? And how solid is their relationship, how big is the chance that one will betray the other at the next best opportunity?

What would be better?

-Build them up as rivals on friendly terms, or make their animosity non-personal.

6. Love at first sight, too-fast progress

Alice and Bob met in the morning and want to marry on afternoon. Both swear the other one is the love of their life.

Why is this bad?

-It shoehorns the characters into a relationship without building it up properly. This is especially egregious in movies, where all events have to happen in the span of a single day.

What would be better?

-Give them time together to develop their relationship properly. Alternatively, have them already be in a relationship and let them work through some tension.

7. "I can fix him"

Bob drinks, screams at and insults his employees, has driven his mother to suicide and is overally a piece of shit. Alice still pursues a relationship with him because she thinks that with her love and care, she can transform Bob into a nice, caring man.

Why is this bad?

-A terrible personality needs much more than the love of a partner to change, and even then, change is not guaranteed. And certainly, a relationship isn't worth one's mistreatment or mental exhaustion.

What would be better?

-Get the fucker into therapy instead.

8. Relationship built on looks

Bob is tall and has the physique of a Greek god. Alice has hair like gold and humongous boobs. Those are the main reasons they're together.

Why is this bad?

-While a perfectly fine reason for a one-night-stand or a temporary fling, looks alone won't let them stay together; it will be certainly over when they age at the latest, earlier if one of them gets disfigured by disease or an accident.

What would be better?

-Maybe they approached each other because they liked the other's appearance, but once that is done, they will have to start sharing interests and match their personality traits.

9. Predatory relationship

Alice can't stop thinking about Bob. Specifically, how much she wants to rip the flesh off his bones, crack open his bones to suck out the marrow and to lick his blood off her hands afterwards.

Why is this bad?

-It's creepy as fuck. Even if this is used as an example of how one character has to fight their urges and control themselves out of the luuurve they feel for their significant other, constantly reading or seeing how much they want to kill/eat/rape their partner is pretty offputting. Maybe they would be better off with a lubed-up sandwich they can fuck instead.

What would be better?

-Avoid it, or at least tone it down.

10. Love interest with no personality

Bob has a tense relationship with his family, loves his two dogs, enjoys building plane models and reading books about foreign cultures in his free time. His personality is slightly reserved towards strangers but he is very friendly and reliable to those he is familiar with.

Alice loves Bob. Her personality is her loving Bob.

Why is this bad?

-One of the characters gets written as a glorified sex toy and is nothing but an accessory of the other.

What would be better?

-Give both parties a personality and use those to deduct their relationship's dynamic.

Bonus: Babies ever after

I'm sorry, but having a smelly, slobbery, squalling shit factory to look after is the least romantic or sexy thing. Put that stuff at the end of the exploration of their relationship. Or have it pick up once again when the progeny starts resembling a person rather than a demon that feeds on attention.

[misskattylashes]

Following @yellowloid analysis of Something to Rely On.  I thought I would continue the theme but with a much happier song – Baggio from Miles’ upcoming album One Man Band.

As always this is just my opinion. I don’t claim to know how Miles’ mind works, but he has already said that the song is autobiographical.

I am going by the assumption that Alex is the love of Miles’ life, and that the song is about their very complicated relationship, and Miles coming to terms with his sexuality.

Let’s begin…..

Destiny, it’s playing hide and seek with me

It’s messing with my memories

The ones that always get a hold of me

I feel this is directed at Alex. On the surface it looks as though they are destined to be together, but by playing hide and seek he doesn’t know where he stands.  And even though it seems they are destined to be together, his memories of how Alex has treated him in the past come back to him.

Baggio, you’re showing me the way to go

When I was feeling lost and low

I used to sit and watch you steal the show

This is I think about Miles coming to terms with his sexuality. He has spoken of how transfixed he was by Baggio and the Italian team at the 1994 world cup. He has spoken of liking how the men looked. In 1994 Miles would have been eight, just before puberty when one becomes aware of the difference in the sexes, and it is possible young Miles found himself drawn to boys, and seeing a flamboyant player like Baggio and indeed the rest of the team made him feel more confident about how he felt.

The deepest dark despairs

Romance in our hearts will leave us there

It leaves us in a heap upon the floor

Yet still I’m wanting more

 This I think is talking about internalised homophobia. It causes deep dark despair but the longing for romance never leaves even though it is soul destroying.

 Wannabe, you’ll never be as strong as me

You’re fighting with the enemies

The ones that always get a hold of me

And here we are back to Alex Turner, and controversially I think the wannabe is Louise, Alex’s girlfriend. Wannabe could be taken on two levels. Louise is an aspiring musician, she also has a tendency to be a Jane Birkin wannabe.  It could also be taken that she is a wannabe version of Miles ie: the person Alex loves. The enemies that always get a hold of me are Miles feelings for Alex. He considers them enemies because they have caused him emotional damage in the past, but he can’t let go and he is prepared to fight.

I’m crying out in dreams

Where I am something more than what you see

I’m not talking impossibilities

To bring us back together

The line ‘crying out in dreams’ is interesting as is links back to Shavambacu (and let’s face it we all know this is about Alex) ‘Well I’m crying for just one name – I made it up in a dream I had’. Something more than what you see, this may well have been written when they had decided to be friends and Miles believes that is what Alex sees him as, but in his dreams he hopes they can be ‘together’

Rambling on and on

Like broken pieces from your favourite break up song

Those words don’t mean a thing where I come from

But I’ll sing them forever

This last part, links to my theory that Mirrorball is about Miles and Alex’s break up in 2017/18. Mirrorball is clearly a break-up song, and interestingly, Miles uses the line ‘broken pieces’ rather than ‘lines/words from your favourite break up song’.  What would be in broken pieces if it was shattered? A mirrorball (let’s not forget Al looked up at the mirrorball in London when he was calling Miles on stage).

Those words don’t mean a thing where I come from.  This is a phrase with two meanings. Literally it means where he comes from ie; Birkenhead!  But it can also be used to mean that’s not my opinion. In other words, in his head, they haven’t broken up.

But I’ll sing them forever – This is Miles’ way of saying he will go along with this for now (I think forever just probably fitted melodically better than ‘for now’ or whatever.)

So, to conclude (this is like being back at university) my take on Baggio is that it is Miles coming to terms with being gay/bi, and that when he was a child, his feelings for Baggio and the other Italian players, helped him come to terms with it. In his adult life it has caused him despair, but he can’t fight who he is.

He is also coming to terms with the fact that he is still in love with Alex, and he is prepared to fight for him should Alex decide he feels the same way and doesn’t just want to be friends.

Once again, that is my take. It literally could just be Miles singing about how much he loves Roberto Baggio, and a load other words he has put together that sound nice.

[rosenlily-aka-choconut]

i think the girl in the final scene was the sex worker he had gotten to know, who first dissed him and then defended him/got punished for it (i think that was what happened? again weird pacing and i don't think what i watched was the full version). i got the feeling she was inspired by beom's character's love for his girl to pull herself out of her situation and we could see that he managed to do some good in someone's life but that's just a guess.

but what i saw of their relationship seemed like a really interesting dynamic, especially contrasted to his idealistic love for the main girl, and i wished that was leaned into more. there were just so many provocative relationships going on in this movie (also with the guys he works with/ends up triumphing over in the end) that beom is 1000% capable of showing the nuances of...and he certainly tried!...if only it were better written.

i also don't know enough about film to say whether it was the direction or the cinematography that sucked but i wished it just looked as aesthetic as it was clearly attempting to be imo. part of that was probably the fact that it was made in 2009 but also if you're trying to make an art house style film, the production team could have tried a little harder.

i hope beom would take a role like this now since he seems to have tended away from movies/melodramatic plots like this but who knows? i just hope he announces a new project soon.

let me know how you're enjoying dream! i'm still on a hunt to find psychometry/gifted hands since i saw park sungwoong is also in it and i've become a fan of his too after hidden identity.

finally, have you seen east of eden?

--kbcu anon

Hmm… though I still don’t understand the significance of the (creepy) smile the tattoo-girl had for the camera in the end. But… that’s one of my milder complaints with the movie that could’ve been a masterpiece if well done. As for him falling so head over heals for the girl - why? That romance, to be honest, felt unrealistic. No guy would invest all he has for a girl he’s spent so little time with. Maybe if they had spent time building that love story, it might have been convincing.

I think I did watch the full version because it had the credits rolling after a flashback scene of happier times of the couple enjoying on the beach. You know, I don’t think 2009 is the problem here. The movie I compared it to came in the 90s and it was brilliantly done! This could’ve been at that level but… we got what we got.

I hope someone would give him such a project again - he’ll knock it out of the park with his talent and screen presence. I’m hoping those rumours about the Indonesian movie he’s being mentioned in context with, is true. That is one character I’m pretty sure he’ll do well.

I’m still waiting for that Enemies-to-lovers thing - something similar to Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth in Game of Thrones. Rang has a lot of Jaime’s personality traits and I can bet all my money that Beom would give us something to remember for long. K-drama showrunners, are you listening?

Dream is mediocre - I’ll be honest. Nothing is keeping me going except Beom and even he’s average in that role. But, as always, his smile lights up the screen and Im not expecting more than that. There’s an unnecessary love triangle with a lacklustre FL (the only actress probably Beom doesn’t have chemistry with) and I’m okay with the way it is resolved.

I am yet to watch Psychometry - waiting for the right day and the right mood for it. I read up long back on East of Eden and… it’s not my cup of tea. Though Beom has been praised a lot for his short appearance. Have you watched it? Is it worth?

How about Law school? Did you decide to watch it or not?

[collateraldamage-inc]

PRIV: MotherFUCKER what are you DOING

(( This is re: Aurelia's relationship with th3miIkman on Twitter. She has many thoughts and FEELINGS and the Aurelia/Homelander dynamic is so FASCINATING to me. PRIV posts are just that, private IC entries, so nobody's character can actually SEE them. Replies are considered OOC. ))

Month in month out I'm just not fucking sure what I'm even doing, is this fight worth it? At all? What am I trying to accomplish? I swear to fuck I don't know anymore, I'm one person, I'm NOTHING. And then it happens. Of all the people, of all the FUCKING people, I start dealing with HIM.

Fucking HOMELANDER.

It's like

It's like an ornery rat facing off against this big fuckin' cat and the cat just can't believe the audacity so he keeps playing with this rodent like wow

Nah, fucking wordplay isn't going to work here.

I am not afraid of this man. I do not give a shit what he does to me. He could choose to play basketball with my head and I just do not give a flying fuck. It's fine.

So months go by. We dance. Verbal sparring matches where I can get as pissy as I want and he does not give a shit. I'm not reprimanded. Maybe like, once, once he hints I've gone a little too far but that's it. That's it. He's into the snarling and I'm into the fact that somebody isn't telling me to calm down ma'am

It is fucking INVIGORATING.

There is finally somebody that lets me be pissed off. I don't have to censor my feelings. This motherfucker is going so far as to kill people he doesn't know because they're making me feel unsafe.

I want more.

John is the fucking enemy, but he's not, but he's been handed so much shit and his childhood makes my sister's look like a goddamn amusement park. He turns to putty in my hands. He needs me I keep reminding him that he's better, he doesn't have to listen to Vought, he doesn't owe them anything. I can pull the trigger. I should pull the trigger. I encourage him.

But that little voice in the back of my head says be careful because surely they've got something, anything, just in case John goes rogue.

And it's not the possibility of failure to bring down the giant that scares me.

It's the possibility of losing him.

Do I just accept what I've got now and let it go?

I can't. 'Cause they fucked him, too. Vought fucked me, Vought fucked my family, Vought fucked my boyfriend

And in the end, no matter the cost, they need to pay. Somehow.

But it can wait. Just a little longer, so I can get just a little more time of feeling happier than I've felt in three fucking years

I don't deserve much, but we both deserve that

[bosskie]

One year later

One year ago, I started this blog for the sake of love but had none for myself. During these 365 days has happened significant things. The process has been slow still but so precious.

I have learned a lot about myself. I have understood that my mind is much more full of unhealthy thoughts than I knew. I have understood much better why I am like this and who I am actually.

I never meant to be personal here but it happened. I have been so lonely and lost, desperate and in pain. But if I never wrote those things here, I might have never got such a precious friend.

Love is important and so precious. I see that I'm actually just into love, referring to the fact I have mentioned about my orientation here. Now I see that I just care about true love, though I do prefer a solitary life and barely am interested in this stuff. But I have also had difficulties with accepting myself and it has taken over a decade of hard work to do it; just this year, I feel that I finally accept myself. It tends to bother me if I have said something but later on realize that it's not actually the case. But that's totally normal. We do change and grow over time, learn more about ourselves.

I have been so harsh to myself and hated myself so much. When I posted my first drawing here, it was asked if I had more art somewhere, but unfortunately, I had to answer I don't because of my self-hatred. So, I started to get personal.

I was even about to delete my submission to that tattoo competition because I thought that it was so crappy and probably nothing what they wanted but I was wrong; I won.

I'm gonna get professional help soon, finally. It took just about 13 years. I really wish to get rid of all these unhealthy thoughts and things I have on my mind. I wanna learn to love myself. And that love should come from inside, not outside, not depend on others.

It's so awful to live with severe self-hatred. You see yourself as worth of nothing, that no one can really love you as you are. You think that everything would be better without you and everyone happier without you. But it's not the truth but those lies are so loud that you cannot unhear them. Your mind just lies to you constantly, makes sure of that you feel bad. You are your own mind's enemy. Your mind wants to destroy you and your life. This is what's like to live with self-hatred, and depression.

I wish this nonsense to end. I see no reasons to hate myself but my mind chose hate over love. This is the first time I ever choose to live my life and not just waste my time until my time comes. I wasn't born here to just die.

Little did I know what's gonna happen in my life thanks to this blog. Starting this blog has been one of the best decisions I have ever made. I was about to delete this even before I posted anything but for some reason, I got a few followers already, so I decided to go on. My self-hatred has wanted me to delete this blog many times and I have hidden my content for a few times because I just couldn't stand my stuff.

All your support has meant a lot to me! You made me realize that my content doesn't really suck and it's worth of posting. But it's me who is responsible for my happiness. It doesn't still mean that one should be alone, be not supported and loved, not feel good from having those loving and supportive people. I cannot deny that all this support has given light to my darkness. That darkness is such an awful place to be in.

It's important to learn to love yourself. There is still much work to do but a lot has already happened toward my healing.

This blog was created out of love but I had no idea that it could be really seen. This self-hatred can make you so blind. I wish to see this beautiful person full of love that could be seen from my love toward Molluck. I gotta learn to be a bit like Gluks, saying 'I'm beautiful!'.

[Been drawing this for post but this is still quite unfinished, as pieces like this tend to take about 20 hours... This is also my first drawing for this year. But well, this being a WIP suits more to my post as my way to love myself is a WIP too. Oh, and yes, I think that pink suits Molluck!]

I have said that I wish to be seen as ugly to be alone but it's actually just my self-hatred saying that I deserve nothing.

Mental health is important. But you don't need to do all this alone. After I got this precious friend to my life, I had no need to vent here anymore. I wasn't alone anymore. My venting has been a call for help. It was such a long journey to get professional help, 13 years, and just because I wanted to do this all alone. But thanks to my friend, I finally saw that I cannot do this alone, or better, I don't have to do this alone and without professional help. So often my mind has told me that I'm not worth of saving but my friend has proved my mind wrong. Having supportive and loving people around you is so precious.

Take care and much love!

~ Bosskie/Riki

[enelea]

While things were going well for Milan Craigh's father in his career, he was in an embarrassing spot with how Milan had messed things up. Mitch didn't appreciate having his longtime family friend, Max Riley tell him that he shouldn't expect any favours from him in this department - as if he would try and somehow use their friendship or want to bribe him to drop charges against Milan. Did they think he was corrupt himself and going to ask them to destroy evidence or something. He wouldn't ask that not even for Milan. He sure hoped his other boys would turn out better than Milan. What a massive disappointment! His family must now be the laughing stock of Driftwood and the rest of the country. The lawyer with the criminal son... His enemies were surely celebrating wholeheartedly.

Poor Michelle was hardly able to sleep. She wondered how this would affect her acting career, but also Milan's own young children. Her own young Nick was doing well at school and had lots of friends. Would he now be bullied or name called once the story broke? She felt bad about all the horrible things she yelled at Milan over the phone, but he needed to understand what this did to them all.

Mitch was on his way to work one morning, when he was surprised by Milan approaching him. "Hi Dad," "Milan? You're out?" Mitch was happy but a bit horrified at the same time. " You can't actually be out of jail yet." Milan gave a smile. "Dad, you might be a clean lawyer but the guy you got to represent me isn't exactly squeaky clean and trust me he did what he had to do. Next think I knew my sentence got reduced to very little. Your friends in the police force won't be happy", he chuckled. "I don't quite know what to say son. Congratulations I guess." " You could look a bit happier or dit you want my boys to grow up without a dad?" Mitch got angry at that moment. "Now you listen to me, you didn't give a damn about your boys, your wife or anyone else when you did the things you did. So don't come to me with that garbage! You didn't even let us see our grandkids, you just ran off to nowhere so you could live out your lawless fantasies. Now I warn you, keep your nose clean from here on out! If I ever so much as smell a whiff of illegal deals from your side, I will personally hand you over to the cops and this time no connections will help you. Do you understand?" Milan couldn't remember ever seeing his father this way before. He nodded. "Yes sir. I promise to turn over a new leaf." "Well you better. Clarissa took the kids and moved in with her parents. Is she going to move back with you?" " I will go and see her now. I would hope she would move back with me." Milan said solemnly. "Don't hold your breath. Her parents are furious. I think Clark Green will kill you on sight for ruining his daughter's life. Look I am gonna be late, I need to get going. Stay out of trouble will ya?" With that Mitch got in his Corvette.

[blodofring]

how do you stay sane with all the trans bs and violence from men? Sometimes it feels so heavy and that society is always catering towards them it makes me feel hopeless :/

well im not sure i will call myself sane, i dont think anyone can be in this society. i very much relate to you and i think being sane in this environment is the actual insanity.

i've tried to cultivate and seek out friendships and spaces where views like ours are supported. knowing hundreds of thousands if not millions of women (and even men) feel the same way is very reliving. knowing one is not alone. having a safe space to discuss our struggles without being harmed. there are many communities online that are popping up where women can freely share our struggles and anger without being silenced.

also i do think times are changing and there is a pushback against transsexualism and male violence. even if trans is pushed by the elites, i feel like your everyday average people are getting sick of bending over backwards for the minority and are peaking at the ridiculous demands from that group. most people, if they feel safe there wont be any repercussions, will admit they think its ridiculous. more public figures are daring to speak out againt the cult and i frequently see detransition stories being told now. as for male violence, that too is being fought against and brought to light by brave women, like in Iran. things like the porn industry is also being cracked down on, with having to vertify your age by official id etc in several states, more people quitting and speaking out on how harmful it is.

and ending friendships and setting boundaries with people who impact you negatively. i've come to realise i have to cut off most my male friends, as they are silently contributing to womens oppression. even if they havent harmed me, our beliefs are fundamentally incompatible. watching incel commentary, making excuses for abusers, making sexist jokes etc isn't something i want in my space. thats time and energy is better spent on people who contribute positively to my life. actually i will go as far as to say that being a "man hating wrench" has made me an awfully lot happier and optimistic about the future than i ever was as a handmaiden, and a much softer, loving person altogether. awareness is power, knowing your enemies makes you stronger, and having boundaries gives you a space to let your guard down and relax safely. careful of who you let into your circle, protect your energy, and cultivate healthy female friendships.

this ended up very long, it is something i am very passionate about, so thank you so much for asking. i hope you can find a space where your thoughts, ideas and beliefs are validates and safe, and that you'll find your hope ♡

ps my ask box is always open if you or anyone else needs someone to talk to, rant to, or just chitchat

[keen-umbreon]

yall i am craving some of the foods that my old partner from team plasma made me all the time and i am so tempted to try calling all his phone numbers and visiting his old haunts. he grew all his ingredients in this wonderful green house that he technically-illegally owned off the side of a route. so it wouldnt be the same from a store, i know cuz ive tried ones from stores or from other people.

i miss: his crispy fried soy curls with nutritional yeast and veggie seasoning. his black-bean brownies. his apricorn smoothies with spinach and bananas and lovingly picked berry combos. his home-made-go-meals of buns filled with seitan sausage and cheese substitute or my favorite berry chunks that he'd always have on days where we'd have a raid on a breeding mill. his little candies that he would shape almost like pokemon but theyd always be lopsided. the way he'd always be able to find some form of food that would work great with whatever tea id bring and wed have a short picnic before we got yelled at for absconding for too long. how hed laugh at my jokes even when they were drier than the desert resort and his laugh was this quiet chuckle but it made my world. his roast potatoes with a thick garlic-and-brown-sugar glaze. how we'd both work so well together like the faces of a klink. his little sitrus-and-pecha buns that hed give me to take home the days after we got into fights with each other over different opinions as an apology. how hed love everything i cooked for him back, teas and breads and over-dried fruit leather. how i eventually learned how to read his blank facial expressions clearer than anything and ive never been able to read a human face but i could read his. he understood me and i understood him.

i wonder if he'd hate me now. if he would punch me in the face like he did that one counter-protester at that gym rally. hed probably do worse to me. i wonder if he got out. as part of my parole, i cant contact anyone from plasma. i miss him so much, i feel like im half empty. he wouldnt recognize me, hed see me only as the enemy that we fought against for so long. i dont even recognize myself today. my hairs the wrong color, wrong length, my facial expressions all different, the way i interact with others all wrong, other people are all wrong, trainers and pokemon all wrong, food tastes wrong, im all wrong. im going to bed. maybe everything will feel right in the morning light. i miss feeling right. i miss the certainty. i miss him. damnit alum.

#ooc all the food is from meals ive made or have been made for me and i legit miss those foods but i can never make them right anymore

#ooc so i put that feeling into this and also the feeling of missing someone important and of not recognizing yourself in the mirror anymore

#ooc this is a recovery story similar to mine but hes still in the early stages in some ways

#ooc i had so many nights where id miss something little and then id miss something like the feeling of closeness and shared bond

#ooc and then id go from missing the friendly hugs to full blown wishing i could go back to it

#ooc its the worst feeling to realize that you cant EVER go back to how you were before

#ooc but i wouldnt change my current happiness for that bond ever im a lot better of a person and a lot happier without them

[sunsetfallen11]

Living in the shadow of his father.

Character: Thor Odinson

Rating: PG hints of depression

Synopsis: It’s in 1st person POV, something I rarely write in, but this is part of a series I’ve been slowly working on. But basically it’s his feelings about his father and about everything going on since his mother’s passing.

*****

I stood at the balcony, overlooking Asgard, my thoughts all over the place. My father had been been worse now than ever before, hinting at the throne and picking up training for it once more. I didn’t have the heart, yet again, to tell him I didn’t want it. It seemed to be a foolish dream, a dream that was only set out for someone more worthy than I. Ever since mother had passed, he had been careless, reckless, almost to the point where he wasn’t acting like a King, but someone trying to seek out revenge. The guards had often tried to intervene, but he didn’t want the help. I was worried, sure, but we had never seen eye to eye with one another.

Midgard seemed safer these days, a place that I never thought I would ever consider as such, nor had given much thought too, until my father had banished me there, for doing what I thought was best at the time. It made me humble, made me more understanding of the ways of men and women alike. I had fallen for a woman at the time, but it didn’t last long. Our paths would always somehow intermingle, but even I knew my heart didn’t truly belong to Jane Foster.

The months after mother’s passing, the training for kingship had returned. It reminded me of the days of old, when that was the only thing on Odin’s mind. I was barely a child at the time, having only held a play sword and swung at many things alike, nothing that would be considered dangerous to the untrained eye, but in the mind of a child it was monsters of every kind. My father would smile, but not the kind of being proud and happy of a foolish child’s dreams, but one of malicious content. We would argue, as the years went by, and mother would intervene somehow. It was how it worked between us. He only saw me for one thing; a future King to take over once he passed on. It bothered me greatly, it always had.

No one ever asked me what I wanted. No one dared tried to understand what I felt of the whole thing, they simply took the word of the King. Whatever Odin said, they didn’t dare question. My heart broke with the want of feeling more understood, but my own feelings and thoughts on anything never seemed to matter. I was the Prince of a strong King, why would anyone dare think to question me on such matters? I often would think and question to myself.

More often than not, I would find myself standing at this balcony, overlooking the beautiful city of Asgard, contemplating ways of how to get out of everything. Before banishment I took everything in stride, went to the call of my fathers bidding and acted like how he wanted me to act. Now however I did as I pleased, I fought back; even if it was to fall on deaf ears, and knew more now about the world of Midgardians than I did before. Sometimes I think my father wishes he hadn’t chosen that realm, but a different one. I never ask, but it’s just a feeling I have.

The thoughts were my own worst enemy and I always believe that maybe perhaps I am better off finding my own path. Whatever that path would lead me, maybe I would be happier, and not living in the shadow of my father.

[mainstoryarchive]

Kingdom - 68: Climax

Translator: Creampuffs

Subaru: Ahaha ♪ Geez, Hokke~, you're making scary faces again~

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: Auditorium

Subaru: Ahaha ♪ Geez, Hokke~, you're making scary faces again~

We're not fighting with our lives on the line, so let's have more fun ☆

Hokuto: I know that. Right now, I'm the happiest I could be. It looks like I don't particularly dislike competition.

Coming up with a strategy, going on the offensive, coping with an emergency, and then obtaining victory. I'm having the most fun I could right now.

Subaru: You're a man, too, huh, Hokke~ But now that you're able to see the entire venue, you've neglected your footing just as much.

Sari's~ moves are pretty intense, so he'll crash into you if you just stand there~

Come over here, I'll pull you over! It's Sari's~ turn right now, so you shouldn't get in the way of his performance, you know?

Hokuto: You're right. Well, knowing Isara, I think he'd avoid me even if I was standing there.

Mao: (What…? Don't expect so much from me~ You're giving me way too much credit.)

(Well, I'm happy to see that they trust me though.)

(I don't have that in the student council. All I did was finish the work in front of me, uninterested. That was comfortable in itself, though.)

(That's what it means to become part of the mighty status quo. You have to prioritize overall gain instead of personal gain.)

(I played my cards well and landed a position in the student council, but…)

(Compared to that, it feels much better to sing and dance while watching the audience's response! I guess I really am an idol in the end, too~♪)

(Sorry, everyone. To be honest, I was still just a little bit uninterested. I've always suspected that I'm just being tricked and used.)

(I still couldn't be your ally from the bottom of my heart. I thought you were only after my position on the student council.)

(The rest of the students who are watching at the school of Yumenosaki Academy, too… They can have peace of mind and vote for Trickstar, seeing as I'm a student council officer.)

(If they vote for us, it means that it's beneficial to the student council. They can use it as an excuse, that it's because they voted for me, for the student council.)

(The ones who don't have the guts to defy them head on, too, won't hesitate to vote for us.)

(It's because of things like that that I wondered if I had really been accepted as your ally… I doubted it somewhere in my mind. Are you really not after just my title?)

(But now, all my hesitations and doubts have blown away!)

(I'm having so much fun right now! That's more than enough. I'm standing on an exhilarating stage with the best allies!)

(This magnificent song and melody, this atmosphere! The smiles of the audience! That's the best reward out there!)

(I might be Trickstar's enemy one day since I'm a member of the student council.)

(Or on the contrary, I might actually be used just for my position and then carelessly tossed aside.)

(But I definitely won't regret it. Right now, I'm content just by standing on this stage at this very moment!)

(Thank you. For letting me be your ally. For holding my hand instead of rejecting me despite being on the student council.)

(For the me as I am, because of who I am… For letting me stand beside you within this brilliance.)

Mao: (Thank you! I'm filled with gratitude. I'll put those feelings into my singing and send it out to the audience!)

(I can't be any happier! Absolutely everything in this world is precious!)

~♪

Makoto: (Ohh…)

(Isara-kun's amazing~ Up until now, it felt like he was a step behind compared to Akehoshi-kun and Hidaka-kun in both singing and dancing, and yet…)

(That's because he had sculpted himself into a mold and shut himself out, isn't it?)

(If he performs freely and comfortably with full power, full throttle… then he has this much brilliance! This is essentially Isara-kun's real power.)

(He was always looking out for others, prioritizing and supporting those around him. He was the unsung hero who was never in the spotlight, himself.)

(He devoted himself to working behind the scenes without showing his own characteristics. But Isara-kun's the center right now!)

(He's the star of the show, at the center of this stage! Isara-kun is this captivating by nature…!)

(They're all amazing -- Akehoshi-kun and Hidaka-kun… Isara-kun, too.)

(That's right, huh? Like a doll, I suppressed my heart and carried out the work given to me… I've always been working hard even while taking a detour.)

(I trained, improved and did my best in order to stand here, after all!)

(I don't expect to reach everyone, the way they are, in a flash. It's only disrespectful to.)

(But one day for sure! No, even if it's just right now, I'll show you that I'll stand with them, shoulder to shoulder!)

(In the next song, I'll be the center. I won't be afraid of making mistakes anymore. Everyone will back me up. I was training so hard to the point that blood oozed out!)

(I'll believe in myself! And the fact that we're invincible right now!)

(Let's win together with everyone. Let's make the star of hope shine here at Yumenosaki Academy!)

(…The Transfer Student's watching over us too, in a premium seat in the front row.)

(Watch us! You chose us and we walked together, hand in hand…)

(I definitely won't make you regret that! So let's see a scenery we've never seen before together!)

Subaru: Ahaha ☆ Dream time is far from over~ A star's brilliance is everlasting!

Hokuto: That's right. From the stage, the cyalumes that everyone is waving for us look like a starry sky.

It's very beautiful, I want to make it shine even brighter. Let's create a bright and fun starry sky with Trickstar at the center.

Mao: Together with everyone, okay? ♪ Let's create a countless number of constellations, tonight is the holy night where unknown stars are glittering the brightest!

Makoto: Alright, your attention, please~♪ The next song is a song even an idiot like me can sing. Everyone will definitely be able to remember it quickly, too!

Makoto: So gather your voices and sing together! It'll be a little weak with just my singing, after all~♪

Let's shine together! With our voices, let's fill the pitch black cosmos with brilliance!

Please enjoy Trickstar's live right until the end, okay~? ♪

[ ☆ ]

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[bideo-gaming]

Making an 8-ball attack

The third attack in my player's repitoire [repetoire?] will be an 8-ball. Nothing will happen on the first turn, but a lot of damage will be dealt on the second. Although luck isn't used in the damage dealt, the player is gambling on the enemy not being able to kill them in time.

The idea for this attack was based on the Marvel character 8-Ball and all the 2-part or setup attacks in Pokemon.

Initially I drew a plain black 8-ball. I hated this. It simply didn't gel with any of my other visuals and was just dull. As a result, I spent half an hour making changes with my palette to create the below model - although not perfect, I am a lot happier with this.

I then added animations - I needed a fade-in, shake, and fade-out. This was fairly simple, my only challenge being that the 8-ball's interior needed to lag behind but not be outside of the exterior to add realism and a little visual flair. It took a bit of tweening, but eventually I got this down.

However, I ran into a problem. The animation didn't work. I'd used the same method as I always did, the same code too. The ball appeared half-visible, the interior a second later and the text would appear and disappear way after.

This was fixed by asking Reece - he suggested including a delay. Thinking it wouldn't worked, I added it. It fixed everything. I had assumed that by including the delay here, UE5 would recognise it - it does not. UE5 starts the animation at the first frame, not 00:00. This was causing the fade-in and fade-out to occur simultaneously, causing a choppy mess.

This is the code in my player I added for this. Nothing remarkable - only unique thing is the 'remove from parent widget' which finally allowed me to get rid of widgets.

As the damage needed to be delayed, I updated my code regarding the start of the player's turn - if I hadn't used 8-ball the turn before, nothing unusual happens, but if I had, it automatically applies damage.

To my shock, this worked. Like, completely. Unexpected, but appreciated.

well, it worked as much as my ideas ever do

Upon coming back to this project I elected to change the font of the text showing damage that would be dealt - using FontSpace, I selected two. In the spirit of my game, I flipped a coin which deiced I would use Casino Font, which tied in well with the aesthetics of my game whilst still being readable

The other options were Grand Casino, Sierra Madre [F:NV my beloved], JQKA's WILD and whilst I loved ACED IT, it simply wasn't sight-readable enough.

Eventually I decided to add an animation for this attack. This was also trivial, however it did look choppy. In game, on the other hand, it looked completely fine and much smoother than expected [you love to see it folks], likely due to adding trails onto the 8-ball. The animation was also later lengthened so that it better lined up with the HUD's 8-ball [or as closely as possible - I could have properly timed it but I forgot to]

This is my final product. The timings may have to be modified but overall I'm happy. The animations work, the enemy gets two attacks for every 8-ball attack, all is good.

[onlyjaeyun]

my angel love zadie!!🌷🤍 idk if my asks are going through/being delivered to you bc my tumblr has been a bit weird lately :/ but i want to send another one and hopefully you’ll receive it!!

BUT OHHHH MY GOODNESS THE LAST COUPLE CHAPS LETS DISCUSS:

the amount of times i had to pause my reading session for the friendmas chap bc the more i read the more my heart broke and im too fragile to read it all in one go🥲💔 but hoon’s secret santa present for yn omg that was the most beautiful and thoughtful gift ever and the fact that it was hoon’s peace offering to finally put an end to all this enemy stuff made me so 🥺🥺 AND HIM WRITING THE CARD IN JAPANESE TOO!! i know our hearts have to hurt for a bit but im so excited to see soft and fluffy hoonie w/ yn and vise versa like they are each other’s person❤️‍🩹

now i don’t want to talk about the interaction with riki’s mom but i’m going to talk about it — what a witch!!! the fact that she could even sleep at night after knowing what she did to sunghoon & yn’s friendship is so unsettling to me like they were so young :(( and when hoon asked “what letter?” i swear i got so silent and had to stare blankly into my wall to process my heart shattering into a million pieces. like how they treated each other for the past decade was built off of a huge misunderstanding caused by none other than that witch of a mother/stepmother, i swear when i catch her!!!!! and yn giving up her dream for riki :(( she loves him so much and so does he like i cant even imagine riki’s emotions finding something out like that. also with yn too like she carried such a burden for the longest time to make her brother happy i’m so :(( they deserve a happy ending too and knowing that their “family” can never come near and hurt them ever again makes my heart so content😭❤️‍🩹

the nishimuras have such a special place in my heart 🥺❤️‍🩹 i don’t have any siblings so i like to indulge in her character a bit and their closeness is just something that pieced my broken heart from the friendmas chapter back together🫶🏻

NOW HOON FINALLY CONFESSING TO HIS BOYS HIS FEELINGS FOR YN!!!! i’m so so excited to see how this all unfolds and for hoonyn to get all fluffy and do couple things🥹💓

as always, i hope life has been treating you well my love!!! always thinking about you and how you’re doing🤍 wishing for you to be happy always baby!! sending you so much love💓💓💓

- 💌

oh goodness, my sweetest, kindest, softest baby's here and i couldnt be happier, hi my love 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤍

first of all, i hope you've been doing well and that life's been treating you even better baby, you deserve nothing but the best!🤍 please make sure to take care of yourself and i hope you have the best weekend ever 🤥💗💗🌥️

now, you have NO idea just how much your feedback and review on the most recent chaps means to me 🥺 thank you thank you thank you :( not only for taking the time out of your day to make mine so much better but also for always being so sweet and so kind to me, i can't even explain just how grateful and appreciative i am of you. i love you so so so much and am still giggling over your reactions, i love it SO much 😫

sending you the biggest kiss baby 💐🌷💞