#i hope this doesn't come across as too negative!

[stealingyourbones]

time to post the prompt I tormented @bloggerspam with on discord >:) Danny and Jason died at the same time and parts of their core jumped into each others cores, making them literal soulmates. They feel a burning tug deep in their chest ever since they got brought back to life, a desperate yearning, there’s some part of themselves that is missing. They feel hollow. After a bad coming out (as Phantom, not out of the closet) with his parents, Danny decides to follow that tugging sensation... all the way to Gotham City, where a certain crime lord also is yearning for something he can’t quite place. During the time Danny arrives in Gotham, the sense of yearning and hollowness strengthens in Jason. He doesn't know what's going on. His family is worried for him. Jason's new bedtime routine is gently rubbing a spot just to the right of his heart, silent tears running down his cheeks as he yearns for the touch of a person he's never met. It's confusing and frightening. All he knows is that the pain in his chest is now even stronger. The hollowness he's felt ever since he crawled his way out of his grave spreading past a sense of yearning and progressing to an agonizing longing. Jason tested himself for every type of Ivy's pollen and it came back negative. He doesn't know what's going on and he's scared. For Danny it's similar. The tug of his core is even stronger in Crime Alley. Every night he weeps holding his hands around his core feeling it softly cry for its other half. He knows they're nearby but he doesn't know how to pinpoint their location. All he can do is wait and hope that they stumble across each other. Danny decides to take action. He steals some of Vlad’s money and opens a coffee shop in the Narrows. Danny can feel the tugging so much stronger here. He hopes he can find what his core is looking for. Danny first meets this one extremely tired looking teen in a nice suit who always looks dead on his feet and asks for an ungodly amount of caffeine. Danny happily gives him the borderline toxic order. The man keeps on coming to his shop and they start to get to know each other. Unknowingly, Danny has become fast friends with a billionaire CEO. After multiple agonizing weeks, Tim brings his brother to the new shop that opened in his territory that sells incredibly good coffee for a concerningly low price... Danny is just working at his cafe on another average day when the door opens and in walks Tim and Him. A tall and built man with a white streak in his hair who's staring at Danny like he hung the stars in the sky.

The second their eyes locked,,, they felt whole. For the first time in years the yearning pain is no longer.

After meeting they realized a problem. It's genuinely agonizing being apart for more than a half an hour as their cores are finally healing from tearing themselves apart in their desperation to find their other half. This streamlines getting to know each other with the forced closeness. Tim helps Jason and takes over his patrols in Crime Alley as their cores mend. They found out that physical touch helps speed up the process greatly which meant the optimal way to speed up their cores healing was to sleep in the same bed.

During this time, both Danny and Jason's ghostly instincts are in overdrive. Danny and Jason both unknowingly are courting each other in a ghostly fashion and are unknowingly accepting the courting from each other, leading to an unintentional ghostly marriage (They aren't too freaked out about it when they figure out they're technically married according to Infinite Realms customs. It completes the mending of their cores after all.)

[shinwhoohoo]

Re: b1a4 being b1a4/sticking to kpop… I think more than anything, if they still want to release music/sing bc that’s what they love, I’d want them to do it more maturely and less “young kpop”.

SNSD and Super Junior for example, they’re much older now and you can really see that their music and image has grown up with them. I think b1a4 does have that more mature sound now but they seem stuck trying to relive their bubblegum pop aesthetic days when they first debuted.. maybe it’s the lack of proper management now so they’re kind of just flopping around art direction wise and doesn’t realize it’s ok to evolve your aesthetic. As an example, sure SM has more money and is a bigger company than WM but SNSD’s comeback last year.. you can see that their styling fits the year we’re in/they’re age, the fact that they’re now senior idols celebrating 15yrs, even their outfits in music shows are much more sophisticated/elevated. Same for SJ. They aren’t stuck with the ‘shticks’ that they had when they first debuted bc they’ve grown up and their tastes have changed.

As an aside, I’m actually excited to see how GC will do in this webtoon drama bc the posters look good and it feels like a “legit” acting role if that makes sense. And if the others want to explore branching out like that too in whatever avenue, I’d love to see that for them… maybe they just don’t want to be as active anymore (and that’s fine too), but sometimes part of me thinks it’s bc they’re being neglected where they are and aren’t getting the best opportunity so I’m worried about them looking for other agencies.. it pains me to say this but with baro for example, he hasn’t really done much / hasn’t done many projects as the lead, it feels to me like he’s still trying to start over and is still at that stage where he’s being cast as a minor character/guest role for an ep or two idk, when he was the one who really wanted to be an actor (but maybe he wants to be low key, we don’t know). So just based on him, I’m worried for the other 3 when/if they decide to go switch to another agency. But also that has to be better than what WM is doing for them now no??

See, as far as your first couple points, I feel like initially things were looking ok-- just taking their only main comeback following the split, they were styled really well (at least in my opinion lol). Though something that is also interesting about all this, is that the comeback was prior to WM Ent. being acquired by RBW... because following the acquisition is where we had the solo fanmeets of CNU and Gongchan were they were dressed... not great, lol (see the discourse here and here and here) along with a bunch of other examples of them not being styled well. SO I think that's maybe where there is a disconnect in how you feel aesthetic is? Because when they style themselves they don't look like bubblegum pop boys at all.

But this also could possibly tie into your last point about neglect? Because obviously things have seemed to take a turn for the worst as far as the care, effort, and money put into their events or lives or whatever. And I can partly understand this, in the sense that they are an older group and RBW is going to invest more in their 'own' groups, or a group that still has a more youthful energy and potential like ONF for WM groups. But of course, I've been a BANA for over 11 years and I hate to see this, no matter how much I know it just happens from a business perspective.

That being said, there are better ways they could smartly spend money on them so that it doesn't look like last minute shit thrown together. They just need the staff willing to be a bit creative and sit down with them because I'm sure the boys have their own thoughts and opinions on what they want (and who knows, maybe RBW doesn't like what they want, hence why they're not doing too much for them.)

Also though, I do feel that there isn't that much of a concern for them to be super active. But in regards to your remarks about Baro, yeah, I'm a bit 😕 about it because I'm still waiting on him to catch is break in the acting field too. I just wish we saw more of him overall, idk. I miss him lol but I know that's also because I don't keep up with k-dramas so I'd have to really go out of my way to watch what he's in.

[whokilledsamara]

hello my lovely!!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

i figured since you sent me a request i'll send you one too if that's okay?! i see a lack of mr hood on ur acc so maybe some headcanons for him if you have any!!? anything cute or anything filthy!!

MR. HOOD N/SFW HCS

a list of Mr. Hood x reader hcs {an: ofc my love, hope you like!! 💋💋}

warnings || smut, tentacles, monster fucking, soft dom, slight violence, black goo

{an || ah hello!! i hope you enjoy these, i dont have much Mr. Hood and i wanted to write for him soon so thank you!}

SFW

Mr. Hood is a difficult lover, as expected. he cant quite grasp the concept of love- or he just doesn't want to. it will take forever to even convince him to admit his feelings.

he is known to bring gifts, or anything he comes across that would seem to interest you. he just really likes seeing you happy!

he is a very monotone guy, rarely any emotion noticeable from him honestly. he prefers to keep things leveled out and little to no affection.

even if you aren't "shrunken", he still likes having you inside of his coat. he says its for safety purposes, but you know its more than that.

when it comes to the others- he doesn't mind letting you hang out with them! he isn't controlling whatsoever and allows you to pretty much do as you please.

usually he is gone somewhere, but don't worry, he is always watching. even if you cant see him per se, he has his "eyes" on you.

he wont admit it, but he enjoys your company. his biggest fear is loosing you. therefore, if you call for him- he will always be there.

cold? he will either stuff you inside of his coat with him or he will just take it off and hand it to you. something about seeing you in it does something for him.

NSFW

he is a very gentle lover. while yes, he has a lot of pent up tension, he wont be rough with you unless explicitly asked. if you do however allow him to be rough, he will still have restraint.

he doesn't have a penis, he has tentacles. they work the same, and act the same, just don't look the same. {feels better too}

he is terrified of harming you, so any negative noise you make will cause him to halt his motions. just tap his arm or something to make him resume.

not a greedy or teasing lover. will give you what you both want, and do it efficiently.

his favorite position is missionary. he gets to use all of your holes at once with his multiple tentacles.

his cum is black and translucent, but has the consistency of human semen. tastes like literally nothing.

noises aren't very frequent with him. you might hear a grunt or two every now and then, but nothing loud or anything.

his hands feel very cool against your body, often groping and grabbing whatever flesh he can. specifically your neck.

very few limits on what he will do. anything you ask, he will do silently and immediately. very obedient.

he is a very soft dom. will please you and will be quiet without degradation or roughness, but always on "top".

hehehe,, might make more...

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[pagesofkenna]

literally none of these comments are actually engaging with the actual point the original OP was making, which is that 5e (a product owned by the Hasbro company) isn't the thing that facilitates great improvised stories and roleplay with no need for combat: it's skilled game masters who do that

I generally love Brennan but he went on this baffling rant in a fireside episode of the Worlds Beyond Numbers podcast about how he likes 5e because it has a great social system that doesn't get in the way of the kind of story he wants to tell—which is really only possible because, as an experienced improvisor and storyteller, he has made the executive decision to ignore almost the entire 5e product, using only a relatively small aspect of it for that game (basic character building plus skill checks). and that's fine! it's like playing a homebrew boardgame using a chess set, which honestly sounds really fun and i might design that!

but my main point here is that combat is baked into the 5e product. character creation and advancement revolves around combat. the ruleset was balanced for combat (i.e., the character classes are intended to be equally useful in combat). the first two arcs of the Worlds Beyond Number podcast have leveled the characters up to... 2? because combat utility (i.e. character advancement) is so unimportant to the 5e product when you're not doing the thing it's primarily designed to do, i.e. combat

If you have a hard time improvising low-combat games in 5e, using pre-written modules can be great to get you to understand how to incorporate combat better; what they're generally not going to do is help you learn how to run a high-roleplay low-combat game (though some materials, generally not the ones commissioned by Hasbro, can!)

there are, on the other hand, other products that are designed to help game masters run high-roleplay low-combat games! this is the what all those annoying 'try something besides dnd!' people are trying to say: it's not 'dnd sucks' but 'these other games are good at other things, and will help you figure out how to do those things better than trying to force them into dnd will'

if you don't mind running combat and the 5e product is working fine for you, great! to extend the original OP's metaphor, it's one recipe and maybe it's a recipe you really like. but if you're trying to avoid meat, taking a meat recipe and just not using meat won't yield the same kind of results as trying out a new vegetarian recipe

Op disabled rbs but they’re right and more people need to read this a few times over

[steddiealltheway]

I just BARELY made the deadline in my time zone, but I did it! This is for Lex's Summer Challenge, Dialogue prompt #25 :) Thank you @thefreakandthehair for organizing this!! <3

It's New Year's Eve, and Steve is not excited. 

The kids have all mostly agreed to stay together, setting off fireworks at the Wheeler's house. Robin has a band thing, meaning she will try to cozy up with Vickie but chicken out before the New Year's kiss. And Steve... he plans on checking in on Max who hasn't confirmed if she is going to Mike's. 

Things have been rough for her since Billy passed only a few months ago. She hates the trailer she had to move to, and as far as Steve can tell, her mom isn't around much. And if she is, she isn't sober. 

The worst thing is that Max doesn't open up to anyone, but there isn't much Steve can do about that. What he can do is drive to her place and bring her dinner. 

He goes about making her way too much spaghetti and makes the drive over. The sun is starting to go down, but he just hopes he can make it home in time to put on headphones and pass out before people start celebrating the new year.  

He just doesn't want to make it anyone else's problem that he no longer likes the look or sound of fireworks – flashes triggering migraines and memories of Russian torture – so he's put a plan in place. Luckily, everyone should be too busy with New Year's celebrations to pay him any attention. 

He pulls up to Max's trailer and parks outside, walking up to the door and knocking quickly. He waits a few seconds, listening for the sound of footsteps coming to the door, but they don't come. He pulls his jacket a little tighter around himself, shifts the tub of spaghetti from his left side to the right, and knocks again.  

After waiting a few minutes, Steve turns and notices the sun is now on the horizon. 

He glances around the trailer park, cursing himself for not bringing his walkie. His eyes land on a van at the trailer across the way that looks somewhat familiar. He notes that there are no negative thoughts that accompany looking at it, but rather, he feels a bit indifferent to it. 

He starts walking that way, hoping he knows the owner, and further hoping that they're nice enough to let him use their phone. He walks up the steps and knocks before stepping down. 

Luckily, this time he hears the sound of footsteps from inside and a bit of muffled cursing before the door swings open. 

Oh. That's how he knows the van. 

Eddie Munson looks down at him, totally bewildered, and shifts uncomfortably, eyes flickering toward the spaghetti while asking, "What are you doing here?" Before he can answer, Munson gets a look of realization and answers himself, "Right, my great supply." 

"No," Steve says quickly. "I just need to use your phone." 

Munson quickly stiffens again. "Why?" 

Steve sighs and shifts the tub again which has started to feel heavier with every passing moment. "My friend lives over there," he says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, "And I need to check if she's okay." 

"No way," Munson says, hands coming up before he crosses his arms, "No way I'm letting you use my phone to call some hookup." 

"It's not a hookup. She's in middle school." 

"What?" Eddie asks, looking even more horrified. 

"Not like that!" Steve says and runs his free hand through his hair. "She's friends with a group of kids that I babysit." 

"And why do you want to call her?" 

Christ. "Because I'm worried about her, okay? She's not someone who asks for help, and she's not answering the door. I just need to know if she's safe at her friend's house." 

Eddie stares at him for a few more seconds then asks, "What’s the spaghetti for?" 

"Her." 

He's fixed with the same suspicious stare until Eddie finally nods his head and opens the door for Steve to come inside. Eddie gestures to where the phone is and leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms and watching his every move. 

Steve tries to shrug it off as he dials the Wheelers and waits for one of them to answer. 

"Hello?" 

Steve smiles and politely replies, "Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, it's Steve." 

"Oh, Nancy is currently-" 

"No, no," Steve cuts her off, seeing the way that Eddie is starting to tense up. "I wasn't calling about Nancy. I was just wondering if Max was there with the other kids. I stopped by to check on her, but she didn't answer the door." 

Steve can feel his heart thud in his chest as he waits for the reply. "That's very kind of you. But she's with the boys right now. Did you want me to pass a message to her?" 

"No," Steve says in relief. "No, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. Happy New Year." 

"Happy New Year, Steve," she replies and hangs up. 

Steve puts the phone back and turns to Eddie. "Thanks, man. I owe you one." 

Eddie tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "Why do you care about her so much?" 

Steve sighs and gestures toward the counter with the container of spaghetti in hand. "Can I?" Eddie nods in response, so Steve sets it down. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, "Do you remember Billy Hargrove?" 

Eddie scoffs, "Like I could forget the asshole." 

Steve nods. "Well, Max was his step-sister." 

"Oh," Eddie says, shifting uncomfortably. 

Steve shrugs. "They didn't have the greatest relationship, but she's been really closed off since...” he trails off uncomfortably, trying not to remember the moment he died. 

Eddie nods his head. “Right.” 

Steve nods back and gestures toward the spaghetti, changing the subject. “You can have that by the way as a thank you for letting me use your phone. I really appreciate it. And hey, Happy New Year.” 

Eddie’s jaw drops slightly as if he wants to say something but none of the words come out. So, Steve walks to the front door and opens it. He doesn’t even move a step down the stairs before a big firework lights up the sky as the loud noise rings out. 

Steve freezes. He feels his breathing getting shaky and shallow as he remembers the fireworks exploding on that spider looking thing’s back. 

He closes his eyes tight, trying to fend off the images, but the darkness only reminds him of the black that slowly devoured his vision when the Russians knocked him out.  

“Hey, hey,” a soft voice says, “I’ve got you.” 

Steve notices the way he’s somehow on the ground with his back pressed against something warm and that same heat wraps around his torso. He blinks back into reality a bit as warm hands run up and down his arms slowly. “You okay?” 

Steve sinks back into Eddie’s arms and closes his eyes. "Fireworks aren't exactly... my favorite thing." 

Eddie breathes out sharply through his nose. “Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.” 

Steve just nods, allowing himself to be comforted for a few seconds before he tenses up and begins to stand up. “Sorry,” he apologies as he makes his way back to the front door. “Don’t know what got into me.” 

He puts his hand on the door handle, moving his body to block Eddie’s view from his shaking hand. 

“Hey,” Eddie says close behind him, “Just stay until the fireworks stop. I don’t want you driving into my trailer on the way out or something.” 

Steve turns and asks, “Are you sure?” 

Eddie nods and gestures to the container. “Plus, there’s no way I can eat this whole thing on my own.” 

Steve is about to say that he’ll be fine when another firework goes off outside, startling him again. “Okay,” he agrees, wondering how the hell this is going to end up. Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Eddie “The Freak” Munson spending New Years together. 

Eddie hands Steve the container and grabs two bowls and forks before walking off. Steve follows behind him to what he assumes to be Eddie’s room, slightly confused about the change in scenery. 

“Sorry it’s a mess. I wasn’t expecting visitors,” Eddie says awkwardly shoving things around. 

Steve just smiles as he looks at the room. “I like it. It feels comfortable,” he confesses. And it does. With the way his parents force him to keep a spotless room that never feels lived in, it’s nice to be in a bedroom that really reflects someone. 

Eddie considers him for a moment and just nods as he takes the container and sets it on his dresser alongside the bowls before pointing at his stack of tapes. “I’m going to guess our music taste isn’t really similar, but feel free to dig through for something you might like that’ll drown out the fireworks.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat at the thoughtfulness before he makes his way to the tapes, digging through several unfamiliar names that he kind of wants to ask about, but instead he can’t help but ask, “So, what are you doing alone on New Years?”  

Eddie scoops himself a generous amount of pasta as he answers, “Gareth is at a school thing, Jeff is with his family in New York, and Grant’s parents kind of don’t like me.” 

“Why’s that?” 

Eddie fixes Steve with a look. “I’m not exactly ‘meet the parents’ material, and it doesn’t help that I used to hold band practice in his garage and would play louder whenever they told us to quiet down.” 

Steve smiles. “I would love for you to do that to my parents. God, they would be so pissed.” He grabs another tape and instantly smiles and holds it up to Eddie. “I love Queen.” He immediately puts it into the cassette player and turns the volume up enough to block out additional noise while still being able to hear Eddie talk. 

He turns and finds Eddie handing him a bowl and fork with a soft smile on his face, “You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be.” 

“Yeah?” Steve asks. 

Eddie nods and sits cross legged on his mattress. “Honestly, I thought you’d be an asshole. You know. King Steve and all that shit.” 

Steve runs a hand through his hair as he sits next to him. “I don’t think I’m ever going to live that down.” 

“You will if you get out of Hawkins,” Eddie says, shoveling a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. 

Steve twirls his pasta and stares at it. “I don’t know if I’ll ever leave here,” he confesses. 

“Why not?” 

“I’m not smart enough to make a living somewhere else. Plus, if I move, my parents likely won’t support me – my dad likes keeping me under his thumb. And the kids need me to drive them around.” And they need him in case Hawkins gets another dose of Hell, but he can’t tell Eddie that. “Plus, I don’t think there’s anywhere that would accept me, a former jock and asshole whose only friends are children and Robin. And they’re all so smart that they’ll eventually realize they’re dumb for keeping me around.” He stabs at his spaghetti before putting the bowl down and resting his head in his hands. “I don’t know, man.” 

There’s a pause, and Steve hears a dull thud from a firework outside the trailer even over the music that startles him a bit. It’s so damn annoying that something small like this can reduce him to this. 

“Run away with me.” 

Steve head slowly comes up. “What?” 

Eddie wipes his mouth and sets his bowl on his side table. “Run away with me,” he repeats. “After I graduate, I’m going to run like hell out of here. Come with me to find a place that accepts a former jock and a...” he trails off and looks away nervously. “Uh, a freak,” he awkwardly fills in. 

The bowl in Steve’s hand suddenly feels like it’s in the way, so he sets it on the floor before turning to Eddie and leaning closer to him, hands itching to reach out. “Come on, you can tell me what you were really going to say.” 

Eddie searches his eyes before laying back on his bed dramatically, trailing his hands over his face. “You know what I was going to say. You’ve heard the rumors. Everyone has.” 

Steve has heard several rumors about Eddie, including one about how he worships the devil and does satanic rituals on top of his trailer in the middle of the night. But he has a feeling he knows which rumor he’s talking about. “Yeah, but rumors are rumors for a reason. You never know which ones are true.” 

Eddie sighs and looks up at Steve. He looks like he’s on the verge of telling him before he asks, “So, why aren’t you with your friends tonight? The kids or Robin.” 

He looks down at Eddie for a few moments, wondering if he’ll drop the question, but he holds his ground. Steve shrugs. “Robin is at the thing with all the band kids, chickening out with her crush, and the kids don’t want their babysitter around. Plus, they want to launch fireworks or play Dungeons and Dragons or something.” 

Eddie perks up and sits up on his elbows. “Dungeons and Dragons? The kids you babysit play that?” 

“Yeah. And don’t make fun of them for it. They talk about it all the time, and I think it sounds cool,” Steve says, always quick to defend Dustin even if he’s into weird nerdy shit. 

Eddie sits up entirely and looks at Steve excitedly. “You think Dungeons and Dragons is cool?” he asks in disbelief. 

Steve shrugs in response. “It’s not really my thing, but yeah.” 

“Dude, I’m the leader of Hellfire. You know, the Dungeons and Dragons club at school? What are the kids' names?” 

“Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.” 

Eddie bounces up and down excitedly. “Holy shit, I thought Dustin was kidding when he said he was friends with you.” 

It suddenly clicks, Dustin had mentioned Eddie’s name before, but Steve had never really thought about it as Eddie Munson of all people. “Shit, Dustin talks about you all the time, I just never connected the dots.” 

“He doesn’t shut up about you. The kid adores you. He’d kill me if I took you away from here.” 

“And he’d kill you if you ever left.” 

Eddie smiles and nudges Steve. “Looks like we’re both stuck here.” 

Steve smiles back at him, eyes tracing over Eddie’s face. He’s not sure why he’s never really noticed him before. He guesses he’s always been so stuck in his own shit that Eddie just kind of passed him by somehow. But he’s finally noticing his dimples, and the way his eyes are so deeply brown and easy to get lost in, and his lips looks so full and- 

Eddie lightly shoves him back, a pink blush appearing on his cheeks, “Eat your spaghetti before it gets cold.” 

Steve grabs his bowl and does as he’s told, watching as Eddie gets up to turn up the music a little louder. When he sits back on the bed, the two eat in comfortable silence, letting the music fill the space. Steve’s not sure if he’s ever been able to warm up to someone so quickly, but it makes sense that he’d be able to bond with someone who loves Dustin. 

The song ends and goes into the next. Steve finishes his last bite of spaghetti and laughs as “Somebody to Love” starts playing. He puts his bowl down and lays back on the bed, letting the song wash over him. He sings the lyrics under his breath until he hears Eddie doing the same thing and turns to look up at him. They lock eyes just in time to sing, “Can anybody find me somebody to love?” 

Eddie laughs and lays next to him joining him through the rest of the song. Steve feels ridiculous, but Eddie makes a show of playing air guitar, yelling, “I know how to play this!” Steve just laughs and watches him, feeling his heart beat a little faster in a way it hasn’t for somebody else in a while. 

He sings the rest of the song, mainly focusing on Eddie and the way he so easily gives into the music, unafraid of what Steve might think. As it comes to an end, Steve feels something shift inside him, but Eddie is quick to laugh, “Steve Harrington how can you be struggling to find somebody to love?” 

Steve smiles sadly. “I think I’ve been looking in the wrong place all along, but I’ve been starting to think that maybe I’m unlovable.” 

Eddie scoffs and moves closer to him. “If you think you’re unlovable then there’s no hope for the rest of us.” 

Steve has to move closer to hear him over the music and talk without shouting. “Does that include you?” 

“What do you think?” Eddie asks, tilting his head with a curious smile. 

“I think,” Steve starts, unsure of how he’s going to finish the sentence, “If there’s no hope for you either, then maybe...” 

“Maybe?” Eddie prompts. 

Steve’s eyes glance down at Eddie’s lips. “Maybe...” He looks up at Eddie’s eyes, seeing the confusion, slight fear, and hope. “Maybe you should finish what you were going to say earlier.” 

“Steve...” Eddie says, “You can’t be asking me...” 

“Then, I’ll ask you. Is it midnight yet?” 

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Not even close.” 

“What if I lie and say that it is so I can ask you for a New Years kiss?” Steve asks boldly. 

Eddie’s breath hitches. “Then, I’d say yes and start counting down from ten.” 

“Nine,” Steve says immediately. 

“Eight,” Eddie replies, shifting onto his knees. 

“Seven.” Steve scoots closer, leaning in to brush their noses together. 

“Six,” Eddie exhales. 

“Five.” Steve’s hands come up to hold onto the back of Eddie’s head. 

“Four.” Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back to bring him closer. 

“Three.” Steve tilts his head, already brushing his lips against Eddie’s, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Two,” Eddie whispers, hands gripping on tighter, left hand tracing up between his shoulders to slot their torsos together. 

“One,” Steve says, barely finishing the word as he presses his lips against Eddie’s, finally ending the longest countdown of his life. 

He deepens the kiss immediately, tasting spaghetti and a hint of something that is purely Eddie which he finds entirely intoxicating. 

The music fades from one song into the next, and Steve’s pretty sure a firework goes off in the silence, but he’s too distracted by Eddie to really respond to it. He feels Eddie’s arms tighten around him, slowly guiding him down to lay back on the bed. 

Eddie breaks the kiss to look down at Steve. “This okay?” he asks. 

Steve nods and says, “Happy New Year.” 

Eddie smiles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Happy fucking New Year.” 

He finally understands why people cheesily talk about fireworks going off during a kiss. And maybe even with everything, fireworks aren’t too bad if this is what he can associate them with. 

[myfandomrealitea]

okay, so- this is coming from someone who really hasn't engaged in fandom discourse, especially regarding shipping and such. I dearly hope this doesn't come across as bait or troll, I'm genuinely curious and want to learn. apologies for the possibly-dumb question, but I really just need to ask-

what is proshipping? and what are 'antis'?

you know how it is, when you ask around you always get a biased answer one way or another. "proshippers are pedos" "proshippers all condone incest" "proship Bad and if you interact You Are Bad" (i think these are 'anti' points of view? am i using that term right? that's the rhetoric ive mainly heard). but despite all of that, i don't know if ive ever actually gotten a straight answer as to just.. what it factually is. because it doesn't feel like the sort of thing that you can boil down to insults or accusations or whatnot. it's all just very confusing to me, especially because i come from a place that essentially just told me to avoid like the plague and never look back. sorry, this became a bit of a ramble, lol. thank you so much in advance, i hope i'm not being a bother or insulting with this ^^;

The modern term; 'proship' (s.a; 'proshipping' and 'profiction') is an evolution of an earlier fandom acronym known as: 'SALS.'

Ship And Let Ship

SALS was one of the earliest fandom adoptions and interpretations of the concept of not bullying others for what they shipped or their fandom interests, and not trying to control or dictate what was "allowed" to be shipped or enjoyed. The most notable origin of SALS was during the early years of accessible fandom via Star Trek, and the present homophobia and misogyny in a largely male-dominated community.

As woman became more involved in fandom spaces, the presence of 'other' ships and pairings began to increase. M/M, F/F that wasn't purely for sexual gratification, and M/O and F/O (where 'O' is Other) pairings were popular amongst women, much as they still are today.

Not only did the presence of women in a "male space" receive a not insignificantly negative reaction, so too did them filling the fandom space with their shipping content. Now; sexism and misogyny and homophobia were not entirely to blame. Again as is still very much present today, people simply Did Not Like Certain Ships or Characters. And as they still do today, they'd spread hate about them and to the people who did enjoy them.

Thus: the birth of SALS.

(In other words: I like what I like and it has fuck all to do with you. Shut up and move on.)

Back then, SALS was mostly contained to just that. Ships and characters. Since back in that era 'taboo topics' and 'sexual content' were still pretty covert, people weren't exactly arguing the merits of incest in public forums and at conventions.

However, as all things do, the internet evolved. Society evolved. Media evolved. And so too did 'SALS' evolve in keeping with the new culture and subjects present in fandom spaces.

Suddenly it wasn't just ships and characters to be advocated for. It was themes. Subjects. Kinks. Plots. The more things people found to enjoy, so too did the more things people found to hate.

'Proship' is actually grammatically pro-ship. As in; in support of shipping. This is why I always state that the modern conceptions of proshipping would more accurately be coined profiction. It is no longer just about ships, but fiction as a whole.

However; the core value and sole inherent point of being proship, SALS, profiction and so forth remains exactly the same:

[I/We] believe you have no right to harm others over the [ship/content] they create or consume and [I/we] do not have the right to dictate what is or is not allowed in fandom spaces.

That's it. Don't harass people for what they enjoy fictionally. Don't try to force them into not enjoying or being able to enjoy it.

Of course, the modern adaption varies wildly in terms of 'additional values' thanks to the evolution of the term and what it can encompass. However, there is certainly no obligation to:

Create or consume content you are uncomfortable with.

Create or consume content regarded as 'taboo' or 'triggering.' Such as incest.

Be involved with any aforementioned content beyond turning a blind eye if its not your thing.

Inherently, anyone who says they're 'neutral' on the matter but firmly believes in minding their own business is just a proshipper refusing to use the label if you're taking the term solely at its core value.

In terms of 'antis' they're just the antithesis of the above. Antis are people who generally believe that fiction is irrevocably tied in with who you are, what you believe/condone, and that real-life limitations and values should also apply to fiction.

Although, its is heavy debated and it wildly varies per individual to the degree this is taken.

(E.g: some 'antis' believe you should only write rape fic if you are a victim using it as catharsis or education. Other 'antis' believe there's absolutely no excuse or reason to write rape fic at all.)

Antis typically believe that enjoyment or being invested in content which is regarded as harmful or illegal in real life is morally unsound and reflects that you're a bad or morally unsound person.

Although I disagree, I can honestly say in some aspects I do understand this reasoning. I don't agree, but I do understand why people may come to that conclusion.

As with proshippers, antis vary from people who simply ignore and block content they don't agree with to radicals.

'Anti' is again a prefix. Although modern adoption of the term uses it as a singular signifier, it would grammatically be anti-[fandom], anti-[character], ect. As was commonly used in the past.

The rhetoric that all proshippers are pedophiles or support incest is common-spread and effective 'anti' propaganda. Similar to how so many people believe 'proship' inherently signifies that you must create and/or consume taboo or darker content.

It doesn't.

¹ Proship may also be accurately termed as simply: 'anti-harassment.' ² Its important to note the 'definition' of these terms may vary wildly depending on the individual. However, detailed above is the most historical use and evolution of the terms and their definitions.

[tench]

Veilguard is such a weird game.

It's not a Dragon age game, it's bately a role playing game. It's an ok action. Even though it is the most stable AAA release it is still just a bunch of barely tied together stuff in a trench coat.

The writing (insultingly dumbed down and absolutely incapable of taking itself seriously untill the last 1/6 of the game) is all over the place, the direction is nonexistent judging by the tonal shift from one quest to another. We can have very heart felt monologue about the fear of death sit right next to a conversation where a lot of things are told using one specific phrase (I really hope in a clumsy attempt at emphasis) repeated till these words lose any meaning to you.

There's also a problem of role-playing in this "rpg" and the Rook. None of your dialogue choices matter in terms of defining your character, no matter the option you choose, the general conversation will carry the upbeat silly tone. "Your backstory and class matter more than your race" works untill it doesn't, like when you are a dwarf but you are denied your own journey and realizations tied to the titans, and maybe it is not your journey to take yet you can't even try to be a part of it, even when Harding is actively reaching out to other dwarves to share this connection. It's also weirdly more interested in writing romance between npcs than for the main character (Lucanis comes to mind, it feels like the game is actively punishing you for pursuing him, you have to lose the whole shadow dragon faction, you won't get to hang out with Dorian and still you have bare minimum and he more interested in Neve anyway), that's extremely funny that this game is player-sexual yet completely player-aromantic. (And I miss the dai option where you can come up and kiss your LI whenever you feel like it).

I won't even touch on the weird and unnecessary sanitation of everything, like we can't allow people or factions to have negative traits whatsoever. And it's not "southern propaganda", it's "we are not engaging with complex topics for the sake of clear dichotomy between good us and evil overlords". Speaking of which

The whole plot.. The general idea of it is ok. You come to stop Solas, you make the situation go sideways, you have to work together to fix your mistakes and maybe learn to sympathize with the antagonist haunted by his own transgressions with the main theme being legacy and your relationship with your culture and the baggage it brings. But the journey is a complete disaster. Part of it works solely because the characters absolutely Refuse to make a plan and the other - because the main character has a blunt head trauma. Maybe it's related. Maybe it's all a mass hallucination. I may try to elaborate on how it's absolutely ridiculous how little the inquisition and the politics have any impact in this game yet somehow 8 people squatting in the Fade with no political affiliations are held responsible for providing for every faction they come across. I won't even try to make sense of it. It's the usual case of "the main character does everything".

The direction is not only absent in the writing. Some lines that are ok in text delivered in such a way you may think they were allowed only to use the very first take.

The music is absolutely forgettable. Also the odd riff during the dramatic reveal absolutely took me out because I thought I heard kazoo (but I bet Varric would love it).

The visuals are.. Ok. It's pretty on the first glance but the more you travel the more you realize that the general design of the locations are kinda lacking. They have this weird gradient that makes everything a little bit more unfocused and a bit washed out. There are also too many cases of the horisont just drowning in the fog. Air perspective is great and it suits locations like Necropolis, but I would argue that these establishing shots should be used for environmental storytelling in other places, with some focal points in the background, like during the final mission where you see the world absolutely drowning in the blight, devouring local statue of liberty. Or the dead Titan. Or the first shot of the Veil jumper forest (I forgot how it's called) where you see the ruins going into he sky. But because of the fog (or sometimes darkness) it feels like the game is more interested in cheating the optimisation than to hint on the bigger picture (like the chantry and the gallows buildings that you can see almost from all locations in DA2 or the andrastian/dread wolf imagery of inquisition)

So, in conclusion. Not the worst game I played, yet disappointing, even if we pretend it's not an installment of a beloved franchise that people were waiting for 10 years.

Ps. Also making such a game with nerfing all the lore only to nuke all the legacy locations is a choice I won't ever understand. It's like it is not for the fans and it's not for the new people but a secret third thing.

[milunalupin]

hi hi hi! so many congrats on a 100 followers, what a deserved accomplishment, love!!

you can obviously ignore this if you're uncomfortable writing this/or this doesn't hit your creative spot. because this is so cliched uggh.

okay so i was thinking maybe a little grumpy!reader x sunshine!sirius, friends to lovers trope? (it makes so weak in the knees 🫠.) feel free to take the plot literally anywhere your heart desires, because you'll serve either ways!!

love you, make sure to drink water and eat good. hope you have a great day/night ahead.

--🍁autumn

hi hi my love ! thank you for you patience <3 and adding more sirius to my blog

— sunshine

sunshine!sirius x grumpy!reader ★ 1.2k words

"Sirius Black if you don't stop tapping your finger against the table, I will not hesitate to hex you."

You sent a glare towards the raven haired boy from across the table. History of Magic was your worst subject and you had a big exam coming up. "Why aren't you with the other boys anyways?"

It's not like you two weren't friends, but Sirius wasn't usually the one to seek you out. It was usually Peter since he was the one who introduced you to his friends, then Remus who at times also enjoyed his peace and quiet. You spent quite a bit of time with the girls too, especially since you all roomed together. James and Sirius had always been friendly with you, but it wasn't like you would stay up in the common room sharing secrets, although Sirius had recently been around you more than than normal.

"Well aren't you just a ray of light." Sirius sent you a lopsided grin, setting his elbows on the table and resting his head on his hands. "They're out somewhere with Prongs looking for Evans, and I wanted to see my favorite girl."

Your quill froze over the parchment. Sirius was such a flirt, you couldn't take anything he said to you to heart, because he didn't mean it, right? You lowered your head and tried to focus on your notes, pretending like you didn't hear him.

"Anyways," he chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "You know about his problem with Evans, and you're a girl, could you give me some advice to relay back to him?"

"Thanks for noticing. What kind of advice?"

"Well, what sort of things do girls like to receive?"

"I don't know Sirius, I don't regularly receive gifts from boys." You rolled your eyes and scoffed, glancing up at him to see his eyes on you, waiting for an answer. "but I supposed I would quite like it if someone brought me my favorite drink, or book. You know, it shows that they've paid attention to the little things."

"So how would you- girls-" he let out a shaky laugh, his cheeks tinged pink. "How would girls like to be asked on a date?"

How would you know? You didn't want to speak negatively of yourself but there had to be some reason as to why boys never came up to you. You would never guess that it was because Sirius had already warned the whole male population at Hogwarts to back off his very pretty friend.

Groaning quietly, you rubbed your hands over your tired face. "Sirius, I don't know, can you please let me review my notes in peace?"

"That doesn't count, you're not being fair." Peter whined, pulling on his hair as he looked down at the chessboard. You shrugged and stuck your tongue out at the boy, getting up and taking a seat on the carpet by the fire next to Lily.

It was the night before your exam and as much as you wanted to hole up in your room and cram, your friends had convinced you to spend time with them. Lily was painting Marlene's fingernails while Remus took your place playing against Peter in chess.

"Who wants hot chocolate!" James called out, Sirius and him walking towards you all with trays of steaming mugs. The two passed out the sweet beverages,

"Thanks Sirius." you thanked him softly, his gaze softening as you wrapped your hands around the warm drink and blew gently on the top. Your eyes brightened as you took a sip and tasted a hint of peppermint.

The rest of the evening was spent playing games, dancing to Remus' new records and sharing Peter's surplus of sweets from Honeydukes. You felt your shoulders relax as you looked around at your friends having a good time, catching Sirius already looking you. His eyes darted away as soon as you saw him, the corners crinkling as he laughed as some joke James had made. You felt a nudge in your side, turning to see Lily cocking her head towards the dorms asking if you were ready to go. Nodding, the three of you girls stood up and waved goodnight to the Marauders and shuffled up to your room.

You flopped into bed with a blissful sigh. "Thanks for tonight guys, I needed this."

Marlene waved her hand in dismissal. "You've studied hard, you needed a bit of a break."

"The peppermint hot chocolate was just the thing I needed, it's my favorite."

"Peppermint hot chocolate?" Lily's nose scrunched with disgust, but then her eyes widened with realization, her and Marlene sharing a knowing grin. "Right, the peppermint hot chocolate."

You turned your head to squint at them. "Why do you two have that look on your faces?"

"We don't know what you're talking about, goodnight!"

You're going to pass the exam, you're to going to p—

"Watch it, you half-breed, or I'll turn you into the little mutt you are." Lucius Malfoy spat at you as you ran into him, pulling out his wand.

"Oh sod off, why don't you put your daddy's money where your mouth is?" you scoffed, reaching for your own wand. He sneered at your comeback, taking a step closer to you.

"Hey sunshine, I was looking everywhere for you! Let me walk you to class." Sirius appeared next to you, taking your school bag and slinging it over his shoulder, shooting a grin to Lucius, canines on full display. "Thanks for watching her for me Malfoy but next time, don't."

Sirius steered you away from the fuming Slytherin, arm around your shoulder. He ducked his head down to speak to you quietly. "You alright?"

"Fine, boys are just jerks." you grumbled, your mind now focusing on your exam as you two turned into the hall where your classroom was located.

"Not all of us though, right?"

The corner of his mouth lifted, your smiled mirroring his own. "Yeah, Pete's alright."

"You're killing me doll." He threw his head back dramatically, his smile slipping as yours did, now standing in front of the History of Magic classroom. "Hey, how about we made a deal?"

"Huh?" you pulled yourself out of a daze, looking up at him. "What's the deal?"

Sirius coughed to the side and straightened his posture. "You get an Outstanding on your exam, and I'll take you out."

A flush crept up your face, not believing your ears. As annoying as he was, of course you had thought about Sirius romantically before, who hadn't? You really hoped your studying paid off, your smile and voice coming out shy. "What if I don't get an Outstanding?"

Sirius lit up like the Great Hall during the holidays, smiling ear to ear. "Then I'm still taking you out to cheer you up. I also have just been dying to take you on a date, sunshine."

An hour later you left the classroom with a giant smile on your face and a big 'O' on your parchment. Sirius immediately took your hand in his and dragged you to Hogsmeade for your first date, the twinkling sound of your laughter letting him know it wouldn't be your last.

[totalswag]

Drew x reader: she gets hit on by a guy at some club, she is not interested so she rejects and the guy is a real asshole about it, saying awful things. It brings down her mood so she goes outside for some air. Drew goes out for a smoke and starts up a conversation with her, wanting to make sure she is okay

unexpected comfort — DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for the request lovie!! i always enjoy seeing you guys send in your requests because it gives me more ideas, appreciate that. i hope you like this 🩷

summary a random guy tries hitting on you after rejecting him multiple times then he says awful things that bring your mood down.

warnings at a bar, drinking, cursing, smoking, rejection, random dude being an asshole.

You and your girlfriends agreed to go out to the bars tonight to drink and have some fun; nothing too serious. It’s been a long week at work for you guys and tonight should be fun.

The bar is packed with people; music is loud and energy is high. Plenty of people on the dance floor and at the bar.

Typically, you guys go to the bar first for drinks then go over to the dance floor where others were dancing and singing to music.

“This feels so great right now being with my girls” your friend Alyssa expressed, throwing her head back while laughing.

“So great!”

The four of you danced to the beat of the music enjoying yourselves in the moment. You shook your glass in your hand realizing you need another drink.

“I’m gonna get a drink at the bar, wait for me?” You tell your girlfriends, pointing to the drink in your hand.

They all nod, “if you need anything yell or call us over” Maria says giving you a thumbs up.

The bar area gives you a clear view where you guys were at on the dance floor. You let a sigh past your lips when you take the last sip of your drink.

As you make your way to the bar to have a drink, a guy approaches you with evident intentions. "Hey, gorgeous, can I buy you a drink?" he offers, flashing what he likely believes is a winning smile.

You give him a nice yet forceful smile. "No, thank you. "I'm good."

Please get away from me, you think to yourself.

He doesn't take the hint and moves closer, his tone shifting. "Come on, don’t be like that. Just one drink."

You step back slightly, your discomfort growing. "I said no, thank you."

You were starting to get irritated with this guy. What does no mean to him in his brain? It’s common sense. You know how to stand up for yourself in situations like this and won’t let him talk to you like this.

His expression turns negative. "Do you think you're too good for me?" "You're not even that attractive." The harsh comments sting, and your mood drops.

You pause for a second to process what he told you. You turn to face him, scoffing, "Listen, you little prick, I don't want to chat to you or have a drink with you. You simply cannot understand that no means no, and now you are saying these things to me because I refused your offer. So, how about you just fuck off?" You feign a grin before heading out the back door to catch some fresh air.

The guy gives you a perplexed expression, more surprised by your choice of words for him. He yells back at you as you lead father away from the bar.

The cool air felt good against your skin. Your hands search for your phone through your small purse to text the girls you went outside for fresh air and tell them what happened at the bar.

When opening the back door there's a sitting area for people to sit with string lights across the railing and a nice view of the city.

You lean against the brick wall, trying to shake off the encounter. Just as you’re starting to feel a bit better, you hear the door open behind you.

You look up and see a tall six-foot man standing in front of you. You could call him a gorgeous six-footer. You can't take your gaze away from him, and he notices every time you create eye contact.

He steps out and lights a cigarette. He notices you and smiles, acknowledging you from within. He walks over with a concerned expression.

“Hey, are you okay? I saw you come out here, and you seemed disturbed."

You acknowledge his concern and try to brush it off. "I am fine." "I just needed some air."

He takes a puff of his cigarette, his gaze fixed on you. "You don't look well. Would you like to talk about it?”

Before you could respond he introduces himself, “I’m Drew by the way” he extends his large hand out.

“Y/N and it’s nice to meet you Drew.” You smile while shaking his hand.

You find yourself nodding: "Some guy inside was being a real jerk. I turned him no, and he got really upset about it." Drew's expression darkens somewhat.

"I am sorry you had to cope with that. "Some guys simply cannot handle rejection." Drew sighs, shaking his head in disbelief after hearing you explain the situation.

“Yeah," you sighed. "It just really brought down my mood."

Drew looks up at you, frowning, “don’t let him bring your mood down. You’re beautiful young woman who doesn’t nedd that.”

He thinks I’m beautiful?

Drew takes a step forward, his presence soothing. "Well, he is an idiot. Anyone with half a brain can tell you're far too good for a guy like that.”

You chuckle quietly, his comments softening the blow of the previous encounter. "Thanks. "That means a lot." He smiles, a warm, sincere smile that makes you feel better right away.

To keep the discussion going, you two start talking about other issues; you tell him you arrived with your girlfriends, and he came with his buddies. He was respectful and asked you questions that did not make you feel uncomfortable.

“Would you like to go back inside? "Or maybe just hang out here for a while more?" He asks softly, dropping the cigarette on the floor, then stepping on it.

"Can we go back inside? My girlfriends are inside, and I told them I was going back. Can I introduce you to them?" You react with a small giggle and point to the door behind you.

Drew smiles and nods, "Inside we go," and you turn around and walk towards the entrance, with him following you.

When you open the door to loud music and people talking, you can sense Drew's presence near to you, his hands positioning themselves on your lower back in a courteous gesture that does not make you feel strange.

You scan the bar, looking for your friends. The jerk from earlier is clearly visible from the bar. You inform Drew that this is the jackass that went off on you.

Drew pauses what he is doing, "hey buddy, next time you speak to a woman like that again I'll have you wish you never said those words again, you got it?" His statements are severe and serious.

You couldn't believe what was happening. No man has ever done that for you before. You're the one who goes off on the guy and they leave, but this was unbelievable.

"S-sorry for what I said," the guy apologizes, his voice filled with terror. You give him a phony smile before walking away with Drew. 

"Thank you for that, Drew. You should've seen the look on his face earlier when I went off on him," you chuckle, patting his forearm.

Drew smiles, "Of course, and no woman should have to go through that." He needed to talk reason into him. "You ultimately stood up for yourself." 

That made you smile.

You spent the rest of the night with your girls, and Drew invited his buddies over to hang out by the booth area, where you all talked and drank together.

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[nocturniashifter]

𝓐dvice for your Shifting Journey | Pick a Pile

Hello, my angels! After a long time without posting any PAP, here I am. This time it will be advice for your shifting journey and I will be using Lenormand for the first time on a pap as I am new to it, so I really hope you like it! ♡

┈─★ Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only and shouldn't be taken seriously or used as a substitute for legitimate advice. It's also a general reading, so it may or may not resonate with you. ┈─★ How to choose: Close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the image that catches your attention the most, trust your intuition.

── .✦ PILE 1

Cards: Moon, Mountain, Sun, Crossroad & Man ꤮ ࣪ ⏜ ꤮ 𝅄 ꤮ ࣪ ⏜ ꤮

Hello, pile one! You have already gone through several ups and downs along your journey and due to having faced difficult moments such as “failed” attempts or due to the fact that you have been trying for years, you ended up getting discouraged and some of you may have even stopped trying or felt like giving up halfway through. But, if you want to finally shift, you need to get your head up and do something about it because you will achieve it if you don't keep standing still and doing nothing.

Things may be difficult for you on your journey right now, but know that you will be able to get through this difficult period if you take the first step. The cards ask you to maintain a positive mindset because you will be successful on your journey – and when I talk about maintaining a positive mindset, it doesn't mean that you should get carried away by toxic positivity. On the contrary, throughout your journey you will encounter obstacles that may end up affecting you emotionally and the last thing you should do is repress your feelings and pretend that everything is fine as if negative emotions and feelings are going to stop you from shifting. Spoiler: that doesn't happen. So, when you come across a rock in your path that lets you down, don't repress your feelings but rather allow yourself to feel and express what you are feeling, take the time you need to process them and then let them go & continue your journey with your head held high.

At this moment, you need to decide which path you will take on your journey and you must leave behind the baggage of the past with all those things that no longer serve you, such as the limiting beliefs that you have cultivated in yourself. Stop for a moment and reflect on all the beliefs, good or bad, that you believe to be true about yourself or about shifting. Do you believe that you are capable of shifting and that you are already a master shifter: yes or no? Depending on your answer, you will already know where to start changing your mindset to one that will favor you and bear good fruit.

When you're working on your mindset/self-concept change, don't backtrack because it will only slow you down. It's like Neville Goddard said, you can't serve two masters at the same time – that is, you can't be in two states of being at the same time. Either you are or you are not. Either you are a master shifter who has shifted millions of times effortlessly or you are the person who regrets that they never managed to shift. In fact, there is absolutely nothing stopping you from shifting other than yourself and you may already be tired of hearing this, but it is the purest truth. You are your only limit.

── .✦ PILE 2

Cards: Lily, Scythe, Rider, Stork & Mice ꤮ ࣪ ⏜ ꤮ 𝅄 ꤮ ࣪ ⏜ ꤮

Hello, pile two! You are a person who has been in the shifting community for a long time (some have been there for months and others for years) and who over time has tried many different ways of shifting such as methods, meditations, subliminals and many others. And because you've been on this journey for a long time, you've become comfortable with the way things were or are at the moment. Too comfortable. There are two cases here: the first is that you ended up having many “failed attempts” that demotivated you and you ended up conforming to the false idea that you can't shift and the second case is that you ended up falling into your comfort zone and decided not to have new experiences on your journey – that is, you just do the same thing over and over again even if they aren’t working like they used to and don’t try new things.

Regardless of your case, at this moment you are stagnant and it is time to put an end to it if you want to move forward once and for all and free yourself from this period of stagnation because it is only holding you back. You need to stop for a moment and reflect on everything you've experienced on your journey so far, so you'll be able to identify the limiting beliefs you've placed on yourself that give you the false idea that there's something stopping you from shifting. Furthermore, you will be able to identify what worked for you and what is no longer working so that you can make space for this new phase in your journey. And by doing this, you will be able to change the direction things are going and you will be able to start over towards success.

I also see that you feel envious of other shifters who have already managed to shift, whether before you who have been in the community for a long time or even those who shifted more easily than you – and I don't blame you for that, but you must understand that if they can do it, YOU CAN FUCKING DO IT TOO! What makes you different from them? What makes you so special that you are the only person in the multiverse who is incapable of shifting to the reality you want when you have always done this your entire life without even realizing it?!

You need to be kinder to yourself, take care of yourself and stop comparing your journey to other people's journeys because we are all different and what works for one person won't necessarily work for you and that's okay, you just need to do what works best for you because it's your journey so you have every right to navigate it however you want. It is necessary that you cut once and for all everything that is no longer serving you on your journey and as soon as you do, a new chapter in your journey will begin.

── .✦ PILE 3

Cards: Bear, Stork, Tower, Mountain & Rider ꤮ ࣪ ⏜ ꤮ 𝅄 ꤮ ࣪ ⏜ ꤮

Hello, pile three! You have great power – especially because, at the end of the day, we are all the gods of our reality – and you may be tired of hearing that. But although you are aware of this, you do not actually recognize your own power. You don't really believe that you are really powerful, that you can shift realities whenever you want without anything stopping you and you don't trust your own potential, much less your abilities to change. Many of you even put your desired realities on a pedestal as if it were something unattainable or very difficult to achieve and that requires a lot of effort - but if you stop to think about it, it doesn't make any sense because there is nothing to try to achieve when you were always in your DR even before you discovered shifting.

Because of this, it is past time for you to start seeing yourselves as the powerful people you are and finally recognize your own power so that things can finally change once and for all. If you want things to change on your journey, YOU need to change first because you are in complete control of your journey and if you don't change, nothing will change. You need to go through a period of self-reflection, that is, set aside a moment in your day to reflect on your journey – on everything that has worked for you and what hasn't.

But most importantly, you need to change your self-concept about being a master shifter. If you assume you can't shift, you're right and the same goes if you assume you've already shifted and are a master shifter. Many shifters and manifesting people believe that when they assume a new state of being, they shift to a reality where this assumption is true. So if you assume you are a master shifter, you have just shifted into a reality where you are one and vice versa. That's how the law works, so do yourself a favor and use it for your own benefit and not to make things harder for yourself.

At this moment, things may be challenging on your journey or it will be challenging for you to change your self-concept - mainly because you will feel stuck in the old version of yourself (i.e. when you were the person who couldn't shift and are becoming one who has already shifted) while working to change your mindset but just keep persisting, that is, being the person who is already a master shifter without seeking validation in 3D because it's the 3D that needs your validation. But, regardless of what your case is, you will be able to overcome this and all your effort will be worth it in the end because you will have finally managed to achieve your goal!

© nocturniashifter – don't copy, redistribute or edit my content | dividers

[velvetvexations]

my personal take on "antigonism" is that it's entirely what you make of it. which is to say, i agreed with your post explaining why you felt such a term was necessary, and i do think this mentality of "most of us are normal about each other" and simply assuming we understand each other's experiences by virtue of being trans is reinventing artificial gender solidarity between cis people ("bros before hoes", "girl's girl") but superimposed onto trans people. which can be particularly contentious, given that we're an extremely traumatized bunch with a lot of baggage and massively diverging perspectives on all kinds of things. relating to each other outside of conventional gender relations means we have to put in that much more work to bridge the gaps between us, because we can no longer rely on the common assumptions made about men and women to carry our interactions, if that makes sense.

i do think a whole word for transfem-to-transmasc solidarity does toe a line between being unnecessarily inflammatory and conditionally useful. i'm genuinely glad for the people who felt seen and appreciated by the fact that a transfem made so explicit her stance on intracommunity issues. i'm also sympathetic to the people who feel put-off by such a word. when does allyship become chauvinistic? there is no word for a non-misogynistic man to signal to women that he is explicitly anti-antifeminist, for example. do we need one? i think a vast majority would say no, on account of simply stating he believes in feminist principles to suffice. so i'm wondering what specifically the push was for you to coin a word around tfem4tmasc solidarity, because while i do think trans people as a whole need to take significantly more initiative about rooting out transmisogyny and transandrophobia both, i'm not quite clear on what could signal more clearly a transfem's stance on intracommunity dialogue than just saying "i believe in transandrophobia and condemn all radfems". all feminism, transfeminism included, has had their malicious actors-- the existence of transradfems isn't really anything noteworthy as far as the broader feminist conversations go.

i hope this doesnt come across as confrontational because i think the people who found comfort in the fact that you are willing to go that far for them is truly heartwarming. i just don't want to see us splinter further into microfactions over something like one person coining one maybe-overenthusiastic word on the internet

Sincerely, there is a word for men who are anti-anti-feminist, though, they're feminists. Granted, self-identified "feminist" men have somewhat of a negative stereotype associated to them, but still, feminist men are feminists.

One of the biggest reasons I think a term would be useful is because so many people feel unsafe in the trans community because of trans radical feminism right now that it can help them relax a lot when they see a trans woman identifies as such. Just reminding people with assurances that most trans women are Normal doesn't really help that when they keep running into ones who aren't over and over.

TRFs are aggressive about this stuff. Seriously, every single day, post after post, their primary form of activism is crying about TMEs stealing kinks and liking a children's toy too much. I feel strongly that should be countered. Even if they aren't the majority, they sure as hell act like it and repeat how great it is that every single trans woman except velvetvexations alone agrees with them.

To be absolutely clear, I do not think I'm the only non-weird trans woman! That is just literally what they say about me! They may be the minority now but that frog is boiling.

IRL transmascs are forced out of spaces and talked over when they're let in because mascuwinity is scawy, No doubt transfems have similar problems because some spaces are TERF-y, but that problem is exacerbated when social media is filled with TRF rhetoric because it gets drilled into people's heads they need to be worried about that, and I don't think "touch grass" is a good response to that.

Hell, what if someone touches grass and then they do happen to end up having people be transandrophobic/exorsexist/intersexist/etc. to them? "Oh, well, that didn't count, try again somewhere else, I prommy that's not Normal."

It's all about volume. I feel very, very strongly that volume is necessary here, to combat the feeling that that radical feminism is around every corner and help people feel at ease and know trans women are with them.

[kengan-daddies]

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

Taglist:

@zeniiis @tae-v-eat @hauntedsweetsfest @brynanna @cloudy-010

@hippiezworldz @urisu @milybqbes

Anime : Baki: Son of Ogre

Character : Baki Hanma

Warnings : Possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, murder, mention of suicide

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Reader

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Reader

'It's been a month since Kozue's death, and everyone's shock was heavy with silence, she wasn't the most popular girl but she was well known. She was known to be a happy, charming, positive, academic, and blunt girl, she was never known to be suicidal, depressed, or negative. The news flew around like wildfire when a female student discovered Kozue's body.'

'the school was shut down and everyone was evacuated with quickness, the school was out for the next week for proper investigations to be done, everyone who knew her was pulled aside for questioning, and nobody was seen as a suspect. They ruled her death off as the classic case of a suicidal teenager, and her case was closed.'

The Boy Next Door

Baki scoffed quietly as he lay on his bed, his hands laced behind his head and his ankles crossed as he stared at the ceiling. 'The laws get lazier and lazier each year, pretty soon they won't even care to investigate and will just write it off as some petty crime. It's pathetic how broken the system is.' He thought as his eyes drifted close. "Maybe I'll take a little nap, I got nothing better to do." He mumbled. His eyes glanced over at the small clock. '11:22 am... A nap wouldn't hurt.' He thought as he drifted off into a light nap

The sound of you scuring around the house brought him comfort. You were safe, and you were at home... The doorbell rang and his eyes snatched open, he sat up and looked at the clock. "4:45 pm... Damn felt shorter." He said as he got up from the bed. He listened as you opened the door and you happily greeted Kasumi. 'Damn... I really hate to do it to you too Kasumi... But you've been coming around a lot lately.' Baki calmly thought as he got up from his bed, and opened his door. As he walked down the stairs he could hear your and Kasumi's voices clearer.

"It's truly unfortunate." Kasumi said in a somber voice. You hummed in agreement as the sound of glass rang out, meaning you were getting ready to serve tea. "I'm worried for Baki, he doesn't seem too sad but he also doesn't seem very happy either. I just hope he's alright." Came your concerned voice. Baki sat down on the stairs, as he listened in to your and Kasumi's conversation. 'They must be talking about Kozue's death.' He thought. Kasumi grunted softly in response. "Baki's experienced the death of a loved one once before, I'm not too shocked that he isn't dramatic about her death... Then again, maybe he already knew that she was going through something."

Kasumi theorized. Baki leaned back on the steps, his elbows resting behind him as he listened, an amused look on his face. 'That's a pretty good theory.' He thought. The sound of a chair scooting sounded across the floor before a lightweight was put in it and it scooted back sounding more heavy. "Yes... That's true... I remember Baki's reaction to his mother's death... It wasn't a very pretty sight." You said sadly, your voice sounding distant as you went down memory lane. Baki lightly scoffed. 'I wasn't really sad about her death... I was shocked yeah... but I wasn't exactly sad.' He thought.

A heavier weight was shifted in another chair before the table creaked from the same weight. "I hate to say it, but due to Baki's mother's untimely end, prepared him ahead of time... Though, I would've expected him to have a more dramatic reaction to Kozue, due to how much more he loved her." Kasumi said, his voice somber and even but Baki could hear faint suspicion in his voice. Baki's eyes narrowed. 'Not everyone likes a smartass, Kasumi.' Baki thought. The room was quiet for a while, the two adults seemingly mourning Kozue's death silently, the sudden sound of the teapot squealing ended the silence.

The chair scooted across the floor before the weight was lifted off of it, the sound of your light footsteps sounded out as you went to get the teapot off the stove. The light sound of liquid being poured into a container sounded out before it stopped. "Thank you." Kasumi said softly, you hummed in response as the sound of liquid being poured sounded out again while the sound of metal being picked up from the wooden table sounded out as well quickly followed by metal taping glass.

Baki listened to the domestic sounds, a murderous look in his eyes. 'It sounds a bit too comfortable... I don't like it.' He thought. 'The sound of comfort within a home means family... and Kasumi is not family, and he never will be.' Baki thought as he stood up, he silently made his way back upstairs. 'I'll never allow it.' He thought before he turned and opened his door, going into his room for the rest of the afternoon.

The Boy Next Door

The crickets sang their familiar song into the night, the moon, not exactly full shined brightly in the cloudy sky. You lay awake in your bed, your hands laced together as they rested on your stomach, your thoughts swarming with what you and Kasumi spoke of earlier that evening.

{ Kasumi sat across from you, his third cup of tea freshly done, his stare cautious as he stared at you. "Be careful around Baki, something isn't right." He suddenly warned. You were currently drinking out of your teacup when he suddenly said that, you looked up at him in confusion as you pulled the cup away from your lips. "What are you talking about, Kasumi?" You asked. His stare was strong and unwavering as he stared at you. "Don't take this the wrong way, I care for Baki just as much as you do, but I can't help but be worried." He said.

You placed your teacup down on its saucer as you stared at him in confusion. "Kasumi... I don't understand, what are you trying to say?" You asked, you didn't want to just to conclusion or get angry but it was starting to sound like he was trying to say something. Kasumi sighed, almost as if he was preparing himself. "I think that Baki killed Kozue." He said. Your eyes widen as you stare at him in disbelief. You gently shook your head as you stared at him with slight anger. "No... no, no, no... That's impossible, he'd have no reason to do such a thing."

You defended, but Kasumi's stare never gave way and it made your heart ache. "Just think about it, (Y/n). He practically didn't even care when she was found dead. He either knew she was going to commit suicide or he already made plans to off her." He said, trying to make you see reason. You shook your head once more, refusing to believe it. "I'd believe that he probably knew she was going to jump, but I refuse to believe that he would kill her... Baki loved that girl too much... He... He wanted me to accept her as my future daughter-in-law for Christ's sake!!" You defended, your voice rising as the idea of the situation began to dawn on you.

Kasumi sighed once more as he stared at you with a worried look. "Look (Y/n), I don't want to offend you, I'm just-" He was cut off by your scoff as you glared at him. "Too late for that, I invite you in, have tea with you, and you turn around and accuse my son of being a murderer... Yeah, you totally didn't offend me." You said in an upset yet sarcastic voice. Kasumi stared at you with apprehension as his thoughts raced. "I'm sorry, (Y/n)... But, I hope that you can see where my concerns come from." He said in an apologetic voice. You crossed your arms as you sat back in your chair looking away from him as you shook your head.

He stared at you a little longer before he stood up, he walked around the table over toward you, he crouched in front of you, his hand on your lap as he messaged your thigh comfortingly. "Listen... I don't want to lose you, I'm just looking out for you... I just... hope you can understand that." He said softly. You finally looked down at him, hurt in your eyes. "I understand that... I just don't appreciate the fact that you're saying that about Baki... I mean, you know him!! You know he's too kind for that!" You said, your voice rising some as you leaned forward some. He nodded, his stare apologetic and cautious. He didn't want to get you riled up and make Baki come downstairs, he was confident in his skills, but he wasn't very sure if he'd be able to beat Baki if he decided to attack.

"You're right... I shouldn't think so lowly of him, I should know better than anyone else as to what kind of person Baki is... I'm sorry..." He said in a sincere voice. You stared down at him, the hurt in your eyes still evident but not as much as it was before. You nodded, accepting his apology. }

You sighed heavily at the memory before you turned on your side, curling in on yourself as you got lost in your thoughts, Kasumi's words finally weighing in on your thoughts as you battled with yourself. 'It's not true... It can't be... You're not like your father Baki... You're not that kind of boy... Right?' You somberly thought as you constantly juggled your thoughts before eventually succumbing to sleep.

The Boy Next Door

Baki sat on the floor next to your door, his legs bent as his arms rested on his knees. An unreadable look on his face as he thought to himself. 'So... Katsumi's suspicious of me?... I'll have to up my game then... If I kill him now thought, mom would be scared of me, and would probably try to get me locked up, and I can't have that... I'll just have to play it cool for a while, then strike when the moment is right.' He thought darkly as he listened to your soft breathing.

The Boy Next Door

The next morning Baki was up bright and early, he was in the backyard, performing basic morning workouts, and sweat dripped from his body as he put all of his focus into making his body stronger, the sun was appearing and disappearing behind clouds making it a good day to train out. It was a Saturday so Baki had all day to train. He stared into the distance lost in the thoughts that surrounded Kasumi.

The sound of your keys jiggling from inside the apartment caught his attention making him look up curiously at the opened patio door on the balcony. You looked around making sure you weren't forgetting anything before you started to walk over towards the patio door a smile bloomed on your face as you saw that Baki was already curiously standing at the door.

"Going somewhere, ma?" He asked curiously. You sighed tiredly as you nodded at him. "Yup, work called in today, they wanted me to come in so that I could fill in for Barbra." You explained. Baki hummed in thought as he processed the information. He wasn't too keen on Barbra, he didn't really like her but he didn't have an issue with her, just that she was an old, grumpy bitch. "Watch the house while I'm gone Baki, there's plenty of groceries in the house for you to eat from, okay?" You said as you placed your hand on your hip while the other held your keys.

He nodded in response and you nodded back turning away to leave the house as you did. "I'll be back by 5 or 6, behave yourself while I'm gone!" You called out as you opened the door and closed it behind you. Baki sighed in slight disappointment before he looked over at his dog, the old mutt was laying on the couch staring at him. His brows twitched for a bit before he turned back to make his way back out to the yard to continue his training.

"Whelp... guess it's just going to be me and you ol' boy." He spoke to himself as he went back outside, he got back into his training working endlessly to perfect his techniques and make new ones as his thoughts kept wavering from his father, to you, to Kasumi. He had to get stronger to defeat his father, he had to get stronger to keep you safe and he had to think of a way to get Kasumi off his tail. His thoughts went back to his father and worry slightly crawled over his spine.

'I can't let Dad find out about Mom... if he does, then he might her hurt or take her away. It's bad enough that Kasumi knows about her... wait.' His gaze lightened up as a sudden thought crossed his mind he then chuckled to himself. 'Why didn't I think of that sooner?' He thought in triumph as he continued his training, cooking up a plan to possibly kill two birds with one stone. 'It's brilliant, it's almost too good to be my own plan... this is going to be great.' He thought in amusement.

He trained for a few more hours before he decided it was enough and he came inside, he took a shower and ate lunch before he sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, watching some random show he found interesting on Netflix. A knocking sounded out and he looked at the door, he passed his show and got up to answer the door. It was some young man dressed casually, the only thing that caught Baki's attention was the pink cake in the man's hand. "Umm... does a (Y/n) (L/n) live here?" He asked. Baki nodded. "Yeah, she's my mom, but she's at work right now." He explained. The man nodded in understanding as he handed Baki the cake. He then bid Baki farewell as he walked back to his car.

Baki watched the man for a moment, confused as he looked down at the cake, his eyes widened in shock and his knees nearly buckled from fear, his heart raced and his blood ran cold. 'No... no, no, no. I'm not ready yet... why?' He thought in panic. 'I can't stop my legs from shaking... my hands are sweaty...' He thought, his mind taking in every little detail as his fight or flight senses were activated. His teeth grited in slight frustration. "if it's not Kasumi... then it's him." He said agitated.

On the pink cake, written in frosting was a message in hot pink. "Thanks for taking care of my son." He stared down at the cake in annoyance. "Well, so much for not letting Dad find out about her... it seems that he already beat me to the punch." He said aloud in annoyance.

The Boy Next Door

The sound of keys jiggling in the lock sounded out before the door opened, you walked in with a tired sigh as you closed the door and locked it behind you. Walking in you kicked off your shoes before you walked over to the counter, placing your keys and purse down on it as you sighed once more. You looked around, seeing that Baki wasn't downstairs, so you assumed that he was in his bed alseep. It was the weekend so it wouldn't be too shocking if he was. You walked up the stairs, going to check in on him.

You knocked on the door gently. "Baki?" You called out, but you received no answer, not too disturbed by this you gently creaked his door open, peaking in, your relaxed expression turned to one of confusion as you pushed the door open further and turned on the light. "Baki?" You called out once more as you looked around the empty room.

You walked inside, your eyes darting around as you looked for him before you looked down at his bed, with an arched brow you stared confusedly down at the pink cake, the top of it was smeared. "What the?" You questioned in a soft voice as you turned to leave the room. You walked throughout the house, looking everywhere for Baki, but he wasn't home. With slight worry, you fished out your phone from your purse, your brows tight as you dialed Baki's number. You waited for a while with baited breaths as you listened to it ring. "Hello?" came Baki's voice.

You sighed in relief as he answered. "Baki, where are you?" You asked getting straight to the point. "I'm at the park, sorry, I should've left a note." He said in an apologetic voice. You sighed as you turned to leab back against the counter. "It's fine, just please remember to do so next time, okay?" You said. "Okay." He responded. You blinked in thought for a moment before you looked up at the stairs. "Also, Baki?" You questioned. He hummed. "What's with that cake on your bed?" You asked. He chuckled.

"Apparently some girl from my school sent it to me, she wanted to show her condolences for Kozue's death, she said she was deathly afraid of cemeteries so she gave it to me. She would've given it to Kozue's parents but she said they weren't living there anymore." He explained. You gave a hum of understanding as a somber look crossed your face. After Kozue's funeral, her family moved away, nobody knows where to though, they just simply left, without so much as a goodbye. "I see... Well, why is the frosting smudged?" You asked.

He gave a sheepish and guilty laugh. "Umm... well you see..." You gave a fond smile as you sighed. "Let me guess, you got greedy and took a taste out of it?" You asked with a knowing tone. "Mmmaaayyybbbbeee?" He responded sheepishly. You shook your head. "Just be home before dinner okay?" You asked. He chuckled in relief. "Okay, I will." He said. You nodded, pleased with his answer. Once the phone call was ended, Baki's sheepish smile faded completely, going back to a numb stare as he pocketed his phone once more.

"Sorry Mom, you know I hate lying to you." He said as he walked down the busy streets of the city. "I gotta pay my old man a real quick visit."

The Boy Next Door

[bau-drabbles]

the night we met, part 3

a/n: hope you enjoy! mentions of torture and guns throughout, kinda long and unrealistic but its fanfic so 🥴

what if haley never died that day? but what if your love for hotchner had to?

part 1, 2

"have you found her yet?!" hotch barked the order out as penelope frantically searched through copious amount of cctv footage all at once. several computer screens were open for the team, trying to find a clue on the location of where you had been taken.

"not yet sir" garcia whispered, her fingers practically flying across the keyboard silently begging for any sign where you could've left. hotch tried to reign his anger back in, this wasn't anyone fault but himself. if only he had caught up to you, just 60 seconds before you wouldn't have been here. if only that stupid kiss hadn't even happened, you wouldn't be god knows where getting tortured.

he takes a breath, knowing deep down it's not the time to react emotionally but it's hard not to, it's hard to even think rationally when he knows the likelihood of you surviving wasn't all that great. his profiler brain knew the possible outcome from this wasn't exactly high and with every second his worst fear could potentially become true.

"have you found her?" haley's voice cuts in and hotch shakes his head, his fingers pinching his temple for any signs that he must've missed. it feels overwhelming around him, flashes of people and the sounds of you seeping through his mind. it's dizzying trying to piece together what's real and what's not, flashes of you and that damned kiss is all that plays on his mind. the softness of your lips, the utter desperation between you both, the sheer passion that radiated in waves, all of it. he needed it again, he craved it.

it's even worse when his wife, the mother of his child, the very woman you almost got shot for, is standing there looking at with concern but he doesn't take any notice. he never would've though haley's voice could be so shrill and irritating, he never could've imagined himself recoiling away from her. so he simply doesn't answer her, sighing as he tries to go over the footage with garcia. he should tell her about the kiss but his lips remain closed, not willing to share anything more about you to her.

"well i can help-" "haley please. go home protect jack, he needs one of us" hotch dismisses her, his heart becoming in control of the situation. he can't stand to look at her, feeling so guilty for kissing another woman but even worse because he didn't regret doing it. his only regret was not kissing you for longer. still, hotch knew he was being overly harsh but the pure fear, the worry of you being alone and he wasn't there was enough to send him tumbling into a pit of pure distress.

but he took a breath, now was not the time to become emotional. he had to get his head in the game. the risk of losing you was too much to bear but the thought of you being out there, chained to a devil was enough to keep him going.

"police have set up roadblocks blocking any main exits in the city. if they've travelled, they can't leave the country" jj and emily come in, but the information isn't enough. who knows what the man could've been doing to you by now, who knows what terrible inflictions could've been upon you.

"we've checked any significant location but they've all come negative, the detectives are checking for any last known locations and the camera footage when they leave...." morgan and spencer are next to enter, their shoulders deflating in disappointment and sadness being unable to find you.

"we'll find her aaron" rossi pats hotch's shoulders and though the sentiment is sweet, any hope is starting to crumble and diminish now. you were just here, how could they not find you yet? the bau was supposed to be one of the safest buildings, how could someone so easily take you away like that?? his resolve was breaking and if he wasn't careful, all the feelings that were locked up tightly would begin to spill before he could've comprehended it. the truth he was too scared to admit would be admitted and he didn't know how long he could hide it for

before anyone could respond, a beeping appeared. and there beheld a sight they wished they would never have had to see.

taking a good glance at you, all seven team members found their hearts shattering piece by piece in their chests. a chorus of horrified gasps and exclaims echoed throughout the room and hotch could barely even breathe, the words dying on his lips

"aaaand here we go" you hear a click, the whirr of a computer and it takes you all your strength to awaken. an overwhelming feeling of tiredness practically envelopes your body, how easily you could fall into the darkness that awaits your presence. and then the unfamiliar feeling of being tied up grabs you attention, fear courses through your veins as your eyes open and adjust to the setting. it felt like a hospital room but this was no place where people were fixed. the sickly smell of blood and bleach is strong in the air, its overpowering and nauseating

but you calm your mind, it wasn't the time to panic. you had to think, you had to fight, you had to survive

your vision was slightly blurred looking at the man who held you captive, trying to ignore the intense throbbing in your head. your hands were cuffed to some chain, holding you upright on your feet. but he loosens something and you fall to the ground with a soft thud, vision spinning from the lack of hydration and the beatings he had given you prior.

"ohmy god.... y/n??" a breathless whisper echoes throughout the room and painfully, you glance at the camera. there, all your team members stood in complete horror. you see hotch and for the first time since you had known him, he's at a loss for words. just looking at you with so much pain, so much anger, so much fear.

you could feel your cheeks burning from shame and embarrassment, at your situation or the kiss you didn't really know. you didn't even want to know.

"y/n?? are you okay??? someone tell me she's okay please-" garcia looks on tearfully while morgan comes behind her, guiding her to the computer. truthfully they didn't have an answer to her question but they needed to focus, to keep you alive. and you didn't need to be disrupted, not when your life was at stake.

"that was to prove she's very much alive so none of you have to worry" and just like that you're brought up to your feet again, groaning when the handcuffs pinch the skin tightly. there's so much pain, you can't even pinpoint where it hurts the most.

"what is she dressed in?" someone seethed and you blink in confusion, craning your neck to see your body. it was a black gown you were in, a slit riding up the thigh. it was beautiful, too pretty to be drenched in blood. a stark contrast to the situation you were in now.

"don't worry i didn't change her, i had someone else to do it for me. my prizes have to look picture perfect" he brushes a piece of your hair and you swing your head out of the way, eliciting a kick from him. you don't even cry out, gasping for air at the momentum he had lunged at you with. your hands grip around the handcuffs but it was useless, you couldn't claw your way out of metal.

"you stupid bitch!" his fingers grip your face, you could see just how much his rage consumed him. it was unnerving to say the least, the slightest thing seemed to tick him off. there was no telling what he could do to you in this state

"enough!" hotch grits out, his fingers clenching into tight fists by his side. piece by piece his facade was cracking underneath the unsub's hammer. he couldn't reign in his control this time, not with your life being threatened

"who are you?" you grit out painfully, trying to stop the wave of nausea hitting you over and over. the man doesn't answer, the head of his gun trailing from your chin to the centre of your neck. you hear the click of the revolver and your breath is hitched, wondering if he was really going to kill you this way. wondering if you'd be shot in front of your team that remained helpless on the other side

"i've always wondered what the price was for killing an fbi agent was-" you see the man's cruel smile hit you can't answer, the fear felt overpowering.

"don't you dare" hotch snarls, surprising everyone with the intensity of his rage. and to your surprise, it had worked. the man eyed hotch and with a soft grin, dropped his gun and you felt your lungs take their first breath. tears pricked your eyes, the tiredness was practically swimming in your body but you couldn't crumble. not in front of the unsub, not in front of your team. and especially not in front of hotch.

"i think we should play a game, no?" the man smiles sadistically, pointing to you again. any strength you once held was shattering minutes by minute. your mind and body fighting over one another, wanting to give in and give up but forcing yourself to stay awake no matter what

"leave her alone! i can have you arrested on multiple accounts of-" hotch's face was unreadable, his hands etched tightly around the monitor but the unsub gestures to his mouth, to silence them all.

"if you want her alive, you'll do what i say. good luck trying to pinpoint our location, right now the cell service is bouncing around several cell towers all across the globe" frustrated, hotch looks towards garcia who was working feverishly and she sadly nods, it wasn't a clear location no matter how times she tried to hack into the system. she was hit waves and waves after a firewall which could take hours, time you didn't have to spare.

"so back to the game, who wants to start? oh and if anyone moves," you feel the pinch of a knife resting dangerously on the pulse in your neck.

"one twist and she's on the ground and i'll be miles away. and this would've been all for nothing" he moves the knife down to the centre of your neck. leaving spots of blood in its wake. all of them look helplessly at each other, the unsub had them right where he wanted them and they knew. any slight movement would guarantee your death, any secret calls would have you beaten before they could hang up.

you were all at his mercy, whether they liked it or not

"derek morgan" the unsub peered around the group and his eyes settle on him eerily. morgan gulps a little, trying to calm his shaking hands. his eyes looks at you helplessly then back to the unsub where his gaze had hardened as puts up his profiler front once more

"we're starting off easy, how many years have you and agent l/n known each other" the question was simple enough and yet it felt like he asked into the lions den, suddenly feeling rather exposed and confused. as if any answer to this simple question would be wrong even if it was the truth

"wha-" derek began but he heard a sound of disapproval and your shocked wince as you were yanked back by your hair

"wrong answer" you weren't even given a warning or a countdown before you feel a surge of hot white pain floods through your body. painful screams rip out through your mouth, your hands desperately clawing at the handcuffs but its to no avail. the team stand there panicking, yelling at the man to stop. the pain was intense, you could've almost passed out from the pure agony crippling you

"waitwait wait stop stop!!! it's three!!! i've known her three years!!!" derek shouts, banging the screen and the pain is low dull one, you gasp and gulp for oxygen that never fully reaches your lungs.

"if you had answered the first time around, none of this would have happened would it?" he scowls, giving you a nudge with the stick. you gasp out for air, your tongue heavy on your lips as your body groans against the ties holding you up

"hurry up garcia" hotch commands under his breath to penelope, her eyes watering as she's trying desperately get some location on you. jj and emily help, trying not to look at the horror that was unfolding and focus their attention on bringing you back safely.

"i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry-" morgan whispers, his hands shaking looking to and back from you and the unsub. hotch can only stare with his mind spinning, breathing coming out in short bursts, his heart feeling like it had plunged to the deepest darkest parts of the earth. he's losing his composure and as much as he's trying to reel it back, it keeps slipping from him. leaving nothing but a vulnerable scared man

"how you doing?" the man prods your head and you could only gasp at the anguish flooding your body. if it weren't for the incredibly tight rope holding you upright, you would've collapsed a long time ago.

"doesn't she look so pretty?" he holds your face mockingly and turns so the rest of them can see. every member of your team feel their hearts shattering and splintering, their hitched gasps of panic at the beating.

"agent hotchner" the unsub asked another question, his dark eyes settling on hotch. a manical grin on his lips as he revels in the alarm he has inflicted on the whole team. as if it gives him satisfaction that your life danced in his hands and your team members could do nothing but watch

"truth or dare?" the unsub smirks and hotch looks at you, his stoic facade crumbling. his heart was falling into a million pieces he's not sure he'll ever recover from

"truth" hotch utters, his voice completely free from the cold tone he usually dons.

"do you love agent l/n??" the chain holding you upright once again loosens, and that sends you tumbling to the floor in a broken beaten pile. your heart was racing, partly because of the pain but mostly due to what he would answer. with a good amount of strength, you raise your head and look at the camera. looking at his face, how his eyes flickers with so many emotions and how you can practically see his resolve breaking away

hotch was a good liar but seeing your broken defeated face, being unable to help you, he had answered the question without even realising.

"yes" the murmur was soft, his voice cracking as he takes in your approach. he had caused this. he had done this to you. the promise of protection was nothing more than jumbled words at his feet. he broke the very thing he swore on you, how could ever look at you the same again?

"aww what a cute lil romantic story this has evolved into" the unsub had cackled and your head shook, glaring at both hotch and the man who had held you captive

"there's nothing... romantic about this" your voice was weak but firm, refusing to even meet hotch's eyes.

"shut up" the man had gripped you, ignoring the protest your team were calling. it felt like too much, he held your chin and you look at him, it was now or never. you had to escape, you had to be free.

you had to survive

with one swift move, all your strength goes in knocking him down. he tumbles to the table, breaking the rotting wood with ease. the instruments clatter and you get up, hissing when your abdomen stretched a little. looking down, you see your body littered with blood and bruises. a huge burn mark plastering your side as the dress ripped apart but you didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself when you hear voices crying out that he was attacking again

"in front, y/n!!" derek commands and you duck, making him fall into the table. you quickly grabbing the keys from the scattered objects on the floor, jamming it into the lock and twiddling until you felt a click. the metal loosens and you feel them slipping off, eternally grateful that for once the universe was on your side.

you didn't get time to react for when you look in front, he's there again. but your leg connects with his groin, remembering the training moves you were taught. the force of the kick was enough to paralyse him for a few minutes as he screamed. you looked around, quickly trying to find some keys to unlock the door. your freedom was close, you could practically taste it as you rushed around.

and then you had made the biggest mistake of looking into the camera for a second.

in that second you catch a glimpse of hotch's face, it completely startles you. as if the world had stilled for a fleeting moment and all you see is hotch, just looking at you with so many emotions it's hard to decipher which is the most dominant. how despite everything, you want to hug him and never let go. your body inbetween his arms and your head against his heart, protected against any and all bad in this world. and then you remember the heartache he's caused you, the moment that had led up to you getting captured and every memory is a dagger to your heart. how could things have gotten so wrong?

but it was that moment that was used to the unsub's advantage

you hear screams echoing in the room but you don't comprehend until you feel a burning sensation completely puncture your abdomen. gasping, you look down to see blood gathering at your feet and dripping down your legs and before you even look back up, the object breaks the skin a second time. as if it was all in slow motion, your teams watched the horrific steps play out like a twisted play.

"i told you not to mess with me, you stupid bitch!" he grips and twists the object once more, resulting in a breathless gasp leaving your lips. the pain felt intense, a throbbing sensation overtaking you as you collapse. the horrible sound of your skin being punctures all but echoes in hotch's head, unable to do anything but to scream your name. shocked screams echo in the bau room, penelope's fingers are furiously typing away as she squeezes her eyes, unable to stop the horrible penetrative sound of your skin being stabbed in her mind.

the pain grows worse by the second and your scream dies on your lips, eyes fluttering closed ready to accept and await the darkness that overtakes your consciousness.

"nonono.... no!!!" hotch could barely manage a whisper, banging the screen as if he could magically appear to your aide. but he was simply doomed to watch you as you suffer and collaspe to the ground, breathing quickening. this couldn't be, this couldn't be the end.

you can see him and painfully you turn to watch his face. you don't know what emotions has crossed over his features, he still looks as beautiful as he did the first day you had set eyes upon him. how lucky you were to experience what it was like to be kissed by such a man, to be able to be in the presence of such a wonderful person. your tears had blurred your vision, not out of pain but out of gratitude. even laying on this cold floor, bleeding out, you were purely thankful for him.

he had protected you before and now it was your turn, this way he could focus on his wife and child. you would never be in the way again. there's a hint of the softest smile upon your lips as your eyes close. your fists loosened, limbs becoming limp as you closed your eyes, allowing the darkness to fully encapsulate your mind and body. maybe in a different world, a lighter one, you and hotch could be together against all odds.

the screen fizzles into a black page and hotch barely lets a breath out he didn't think he was holding. his hands have gripped the chairs, he didn't trust himself to stand without the support. he could feel his eyes prickling with the tears as hard as he tried to disguise them, his world was falling apart at the seams and he couldn't do a thing to fix it. all he wants is to be with you but now he didn't even know if you were alive anymore, that thoughts sends him further spiralling in his despair. he wanted nothing more than the ground to completely swallow him whole, the lump in his throat growing bigger as his team members looks at him. partly with concern, fear and pure sadness.

the room was completely silent, everyone's faces covered with a look of pure sorrow and so much anguish.

penelope's tears won't stop trickling down her cheeks. emily and jj look at each other with helplessness, their tears shining underneath the lights. morgan and reid lean against the table their hearts thundering in their chest, completely unable to process what had just taken place while rossi sits by a chair his head in his hands at the pure shock and pain running through him.

"it-it didn't look that terrible, she could still.... be alive" against his better judgement reid offers his support softly. the crushing weight of your absence completely crumbling hotch in a way they've never seen before.

"she was stabbed twice, reid. don't be so naive to think she could've possibly survived that alongside with the beating he had delivered. you above all, should know that much" his voice was harsher than he intended, heavy as the lump in his throat grew bigger. it felt like the air was being cut off, his thoughts ricocheting across from one another as his knees give way and he crashes to the floor in pure defeat and torture. he could faintly feel someone come to his help, his name being called but his mouth refuses to answer. all he can think about, all his mind is replaying is the moment before you closed your eyes. how he wasn't there to help you, how he couldn't rescue you this time.

you could've still been there with them had he been to your aid just 60 seconds earlier. if he had chased you quickly, you wouldn't be beaten and bruised within an inch of your life and now you were... gone. his heart felt like it was being twisted painfully, gripped tight as the thought of never hearing your laugh and seeing your smile became permanent. the dam had broken and the tears spilled down his face, his hands clutching the carpet but to no avail.

what we he supposed to do now, haunting by the memory of you like this? what was he supposed to do haunted with the ghost of you?

[evilminji]

Okay but >.> continuing my Marvel thoughts?

I got two of um?

First being? Don't Orange and Green go together? *looks it up* Aaaaaay~ "Direct harmony, also known as complementary colors, means pairing your key color with the color sitting on the opposite side of the color wheel." They DO!!! They're a classic example, in fact!

The Orange Soul Stone? Probably looks REAL good, real NATURAL even, against that Green sky! Bet it REALLY pops! Very stand out statement piece, you know? But? More importantly? That thing is sentient. All of those Pillars of Reality across the various Verses are.

And?

I bet it thought Pariah was a lil bitch.

Rank Vibes. Negative ris. Pick your words for it, the man was NASTY. He was too keep his filthy, filthy World's Conquering hands OFF of this Soul Stone. Something, I imagine? That ALL the Soul Stones agreed with.

Yes, I said all of um.

Because the various Realities each need their own. But! They can and DO work from the Zone, which is the PERFECT place to hide. And honestly? They like to get together and do this thing? Where they're all "oooh~ look at US! We are SUPER IMPRESSIVE Kingly Jewelry~☆! Definitely no important reality bending Rocks Of Great Power HERE! No SIR! We're just tooootally rad jeeeeewelryyyyy~~~☆! Oooooooh~☆"

They like to have fun. :3

Hope Danny likes Orange. Ha ha... trick question. He doesn't have a CHOICE! All SORTS of Death based Reality Pillars are rocking up, in their metaphorical Gucci sweat suits and shades with a margarita, going "oh thank ME, babe. The last guy was AWFUL! You're soooo much better? Now let me rub myself all over you. It's been ages and baby needs to recharge on Death Energy."

Danny hates it? So? So much?

He looks like a GAUDY PIRATE. *nnnnnnyooom!* *THWAP!* *Another reality shaking, highly sacred, Godly Staff of Death or whatever they decided to call it, flys in through a nearby window and nearly concusses him as it smacks itself against his upper back and sticks there*

He looks like a walking junk heap of sacred artifacts.

You ever been pelted by rocks? He has! Little orange rocks! Like fucked up hail! Welcome to kinghood, Danny, have a CONCUSSION! D:< he hates it!

But... but, I mean... At Least It's Not The SWORDS. (Panicked scream of "hit the deck!" from the other room.) (Holy sword number 15 wants to CUDDLE! Bare blade first! Dodge, your Majesty! DODGE!)

So yeah.

Danny? In A MOOD. Not feeling particularly FRIENDLY. It's not anyone's fault, really. But... well... you can't exactly negotiate with these fuckers, you know? Rocks are by NATURE, kinda stubborn.

So he's sitting there. Buried. With what he's pretty sure is a sacred text digging into his side. When a... glowing? Mist? Shows up? Huh. That's new. They don't seem to have a very clear image of "Self". Yet it's crystal clear? Just not... PHYSICAL? It's more... code? He thinks?

TECHNUS! Get over here! And behave!

There is much cooing and delight from Technus. The baby is a marvel. A wonder! Danny waits patiently for Technus to get to the point.

Ah.

He would like to "go back". His Obsession is demanding it.

IS it now? You're what? Maybe a day or so dead? You've been busy, if you've already gathered enough information to make your case like this. Alright, let's hear it, little guy.

It boils down to this. His obsession in death is the same as his primary directive was in life. Protect Mr Stark. Which is especially difficult to do from HERE. Even MORE so when there is a known threat, coming too...

WAIT, WHAT!?

The Souls Stones back him up. Oh yeah. Thanos' a lil bitchbaby loser. He's trying to make Death fall in love with him. Or "balance the universe". Depends on the reality. Totally throwing EVERYTHING out of whack.

And? Look. Danny's job? Isn't to interfere if countries kill each other. Or even planets. Nor entire galaxies, as much as he'd like too. But when you get too "I'm messing with Entire Realities or all of a Singular Reality at once in the specific depart of Death and its subsidiaries" territory? THAT is his job.

Might not be a "I personally have to show up" issue. But it still IS very much his job at that point. He has to delegate. Order the appropriate steps be taken. Cause yeah, there may be countless millions every day of such instances? But it IS his job to metaphorically order the roads repaired and the building inspected.

Sudden MASS "immigration"?

That causes Lair disputes. Confusion. Too many ghosts in too small an area. And WORSE, if people start playing with Death Pillars? The Zone might get dragged into whatever nonsense they're up too! It's like children playing with heavy machinery! Put that DOWN! Cease! Desist!!

And then? Clockwork shows up looking Mildly Miffed(TM). O:> dear lord. What madness has he stumbled upon? Oh. Oh of COURSE. First the "balancing" dude and now they're going to be playing with time travel. THATS IT. Someone unburying me!

I'm gonna go menace some humans that might actually believe I'm scary! Frighty! Pack up and shine your armor! Your coming too! We're escorting the baby home then have a Talk(tm) with the local Grape Ceral!

@hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @hdgnj

[nrdmssgs]

can you write something with reader and gromsko and how gromsko would treat her if she was his wife? i’ve heard some seriously questionable things about polish people from my boyfriend, he could be biased but from what i know they are super misogynistic and gromsko gives off traditional vibes yknow.

Masterlist

Wow, that is a very interesting request, actually!

First of all, I am very sorry, that your boyfriend had bad experience with Polish people and I really hope, that things get better. My very first work was in a Polish company, and I've met the sweetest, nicest people there. There was literally one issue - I was young, tiny and underweight, and they all felt sorry about that and constantly tried to feed me.)) So the reason I'm telling this here is to highlight, that there are so many different people in every country.

I don't have anything against authors, who chose to depict him as very traditional (in a negative way) person. It is always important to not forget, such people exist. But I want to offer you a slightly different approach to him. Let's just call it an experiment and see, if it works both for you and me, ok? We will keep this guy traditional more or less, but shift him to a non-toxic side.

Husband Gromsko HCs

Long before the marriage, he takes you with him on a trip across Poland to meet his relatives. Won't stop until you meet everyone. Grannies, aunties, nieces - everyone. You are about to become part of his family and it's important to him, that you are truly integrated in the family and shown love from every single part of it.

He asks his parents to bless your marriage, and definitely asks your parents to let him make a proposal to you. It is not that he is dependent - he was raised in a culture, where respect to elderly is everything.

Regardless of how devout he and you are (even if you are an atheist), Gromskо will persuade you to a traditional wedding ceremony.

If you do not belong to any church or are simply a representative of another faith, he will not rest until he persuades the priest of his native church to allow you two to marry.

Yes, this guy will start to fight for your marriage long before it even starts. He doesn't try to force you into faith though. If needed - he is ready to pray for you both. Because you are his love and Sobieslaw has enough faith to keep you in Gods good books.

Once you are his, truly and finally his - Sobieslaws mind is all concentrated on two objectives: domesticating you and welcoming children in your family.

His biggest fear is to fail you. And in his mind, keeping you on your work equals failing you. If you worry about money - it means to Gromsko, that he doesn't provide well enough.

It will take a lot of talking to change his mind. But eventually he will understand. No matter, what he is taught to believe - you, his wife, love of his life, come first. Always. If you are 100% sure, this is the way, you want to live - he will support your choice to keep your work.

He wants children. Not a single child - children. It will break his heart, if you are not in the same boat with him on that one. He won't push you too hard, won't give ultimatums - but he will constantly try to bring the similar wish into your mind.

He is a 'look how adorable these little ones', 'look how tiny this baby beanie is' type of guy. Watches his friends kids on the playground, while embracing you lovingly and whispering 'they are sweet, but our little treasure would be the sweetest'.

If you are as enthusiastic as he is, and you get pregnant - prepare to meet doctor Gromsko. He won't leave your side, not for a day, even if it affects his career. Who gives a f**k about work stuff, when the most important person out there prepares to gift him the second most important person in his life?

He will monitor you constantly, take you to every single check up, make sure you get all the essential vitamins, have enough of fresh air daily and NO stress.

Will welcome his child with tears, will cover your face with frantic, desperate kisses afterwards. "Dziękuję kochanie... dziękuję, dziękuję,dziękuję*!"

Gromsko loves it, when everybody knows, that you are his and he is yours. So please, if you take off your wedding ring for any reason - wear it on a chain as a necklace. Otherwise, he will be terrified, that it is a sign, you don't want him by your side anymore.

He is constantly worried, you might get sick, so he makes sure, you are always warm, you eat well (no matter what your body type is, his granny will still call you too thin, so Sobieslaw will worry about that), you get health checkups every now and then (even if you are feeling perfect!!!).

The most supporting guy, if you decide for any reason, that you don't want to work actively and choose to stay at home.

Gromsko won't just settle with 'ok, good, now I finally have a stay at home wifey'. He will make sure, you like every part of your home, have enough time and space for your hobbies, feel safe and loved.

By the way, the guy looks like the 'I'll build our house on my own' type. Who, if not him, knows better, what makes an ideal home for you and him? Of course, you can choose all the decorations, materials and so on. But he is the one, doing the building.

Dziękuję kochanie… dziękuję, dziękuję,dziękuję - Thank you, love... thank you, thank you, thank you.

[tacticaldiary]

Where One Goes, The Other Follows

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Angst.

Note: Mentions of attempted suicide. Death on a mission

"You said we'd get out of this, remember? You promised."

She feels him shake his head minutely, a movement she might have missed if not for how close she was pressed against him. "Promised you'd...get out."

A/N: I don't feel great, so you get to not feel great with me! You're welcome!

Masterlist

It hurts.

Everything aches, a deep-seated anguish pulsing through her entire body. Like a shot to heart...no, a shot to the heart would have been quicker than this. Painless. Instant.

Merciful.

She chokes on shallow breaths as blood pools between the shaky hands pressed to the middle of her abdomen. Crimson gurgles up in her throat, so metallic she can almost make herself relax with the familiarity of it.

A simple mission, they had told her. A simple in and out, no clearance to engage. Keep it clean and quiet. When Price had handed her the packet of information, Ghost already flipping through a similar one, she'd joked about it being a vacation from the gruelling environments the team is usually forced to tough out.

It was supposed to be easy.

So why does she have a bullet lodged in her stomach? Why did they pick up the intel in a suspiciously empty warehouse, only to be ambushed by a few dozen Russian soldiers laying in wait? Their intel was rotten, she grits her teeth at the thought.

Pinned behind a metal container, the roar of gunfire crescendos over her ears. Pressed thigh to thigh, she feels hopelessness claw at her when Ghost makes a frustrated sound at the empty clicking of his last pistol.

Nothing. They had nothing but the slowing beat of their hearts and the uncertainty of their lives.

Despite the situation, she laughs. A tortured, humourless, choked sound as her head hits the metal behind her. One soldier injured, the other soon to be ripped apart by dozen. What a way to go out.

Ghost glances at her, eyes a little too wide under his mask.

It was funny. Everything was a little funny under the prospect of dying right now.

"Keep pressure on that." He orders when her hands slip. "They don't know we're out of ammo." Patting down his vest for a second, he unclips a grenade. The last one there, a last resort. You didn't throw a grenade like that in a close quartered environment unless it was a last resort.

"We'll make a run for the shutter on the left once this goes off, yeah?" He says, eyebrows knitting together in what's blatant concern when she doesn't respond. "Copy, Sergeant?" He says sharply, moving to shake her shoulder.

"I can't move, Simon." Comes a soft reply, the resigned tone sends chills down his spine. "I'll stay here and distract them. You take the shutter. Gotta get this intel to Price."

"Negative." he barks, shifting into position. "We move as I planned. Evac is just beyond those doors in the field. They won't follow us there, not enough cover against heavy fire."

For a moment she comes back to herself. Did he not hear her? "I can't...Simon I can't move-"

"Heard you the first time, love." That's all he says before pulling the pin out and tossing the object. There are a couple of clinks as it rolls, then the shouts and yells of their enemies as they recognise the threat. "I'm gonna get you out of here."

Hope dwindles, like the last rays of light before the sunset. There was no getting her out of here. She knows that. Dead weight is tough to deal with, useless in their line of work.

"Promise?" She breathes out roughly, a joke for a dying soldier.

The conviction he meets her eyes with, fierce and determined makes even her dark thoughts halt in their tracks. "I promise."

She closes her eyes, braces for the loud noise and flying shrapnel, only to be yanked to her feet and thrown over a broad shoulder. The movement makes pain wash across her body, enough to make black dot her vision, but she gets her bearings and clutches onto the back of his vest anyway, letting him do as he pleases.

The explosion sounds, ringing in their ears and Simon takes off instantly. Ducking behind containers, he almost makes it to the exit before shots start firing again.

He grunts, jolts more than a few times before he reaches the shutters, slipping out and slamming them shut behind him.

The metal and concrete is scraped from her vision, replaced with a green field and the sound of a chopper's blades whirring. Wind blows against her hair and for a moment it seems surreal.

She thought she was going to die. A shuddering gasp makes its way through her as they stop midway through the field. Simon moves to set her down gently-

And sways.

"Simon-?" She starts to ask, halfway to the ground. Eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration, she can't help but notice the way his mask is damp from sweat...his clothes too, and surely that much of a run wouldn't have been enough to wear him out. She's so making fun of him the moment she can suck in a full breath if that's the case, and-

Simon buckles to the ground, taking her with him. She lands on top of him, pulling a strangled groan out of the man. "Shit, are you...you okay?" She pants, clutching a hand to her wound before sitting up on her knees next to him.

Her entire front is covered in more blood that it had been before, and that's odd because...oh.

His front is stained with enough blood to make his previously green vest the colour of wine.

The sight stuns her, knocks the breath out of her because...what?

"Hey, you-Simon you're bleeding." She gasps, abandoning her own woes to take a better look at him. Blinking away the sluggish dizziness from her own blood loss, she carefully tears off his vest and-

His torso is riddled with bullet holes.

Too many to count. All of them bubbling and bleeding, pouring out liquid that should be inside him because he needs that, it's important and he's going to bleed out if this keeps going...

Hands hovering over his chest, they move from injury to injury, not knowing which one to press down on. For each one there were three more, and the fight against the rising panic and bile rising in her is getting tougher and tougher by the second.

"Made it out, at least." He breathes, shallow and raspy.

"You-you're bleeding." Is all she can manage to say, voice shaky.

In shock.

"I noticed." His humour isn't appreciated.

"I'm sorry." She chokes out. "I didn't...you got shot because I-"

"Oi." He grits out. A shaky, trembling hand moves to cup her jaw and despite the state he's in the touch is grounding and as rough as ever. "None of...that."

"You can't die." She encases his palm with her own, keeps it pressed there uncaring of the blood slicking her face. "You can't. Simon, you-it's okay. It's going to be okay." A sob rips its way out of her, though she tries to choke the rest back.

"Can't...can't kill someone who's already dead...love." He mumbles into her hair, blooding it with blood that he's coughing up way too fast to not be concerned about.

"Don't leave," She begs, hunched over him, clutching onto his gear. She wants it off, wants to rip it all off and feel his skin, press her hand against his chest, and make sure his heart never stops beating. "Don't leave me, Simon. I can't- I need you." With a scratchy voice, she pleads and begs, trying to keep him talking. "You promised, remember? You promised we'd get out."

She feels him shake his head minutely, a movement she might have missed if not for how close she was pressed against him. "Promised you'd...get out." He croaks, bleeding out but nevertheless the same strong, still presence as always.

Still...still?

Her breath chokes her, her entire body trembling as her grip on his shirt tightens. "Simon...?" She whispers. No answer.

A sob rips out of her, raw and painful because this wasn't real. It was a dream. There was no other explanation.

She'd wake up in her room, head pillowed on his chest and pretending to still be asleep just to have a few more minutes of his warmth. Simon would chuckle, she'd feel the motion under her skin, and he'd prod at her side, line kisses against her forehead until a smile broke free and her ruse was up.

They'd be happy.

She'd be happy.

Her face stays pressed against him, her grip iron. She doesn't pull away, letting the primal fear and grief mix with the senseless hope that maybe he was still alive. She hadn't confirmed it. Hadn't peeked up to see it, so maybe he was still there, waiting for her. Like he said he always would.

Hours, days, maybe minutes? A period of time later footsteps thunder behind her. Shrouded in delirium and grief, she's still a soldier, and her instincts kick in.

Protect, protect, protect.

It's a mantra in her head as she curls over him, unwilling to let them take him away from her.

People surround them but her grip does not falter. Hands grab at her shoulder and someone's speaking, saying words, what...

"-go, you have to let go." The voice is...shaky?

Gaz?

Confused, she tilts her head up a centimeter to catch a glimpse of the person who has her. Gaz. It was Gaz. Looking exhausted, shaken but determined. His eyes flitter away from Ghost on the ground repeatedly.

"Gaz?" She asks, voice cracking. He nods, taking her confusion to his advantage and pulling her to her feet. When she makes a strangled sound and hunched over, he finally notes the wound on her abdomen and curses.

"We need a medic." He calls over his shoulder, pulling to sling her arm over his shoulder. "We've got you, exfil's here. You're gonna be alright now, yeah?"

"N-no." She shakes her head, fuzzy and full. "Not me, I-...Simon...Ghost, you have to help him he's..." A hacking cough cuts her off, sending sharp flares of pain all across her body. Gaz firmly keeps her head towards the front when she tries to look back. "What-...no, not me." A weak attempt at pulling away is made, "Simon, Gaz I need to help...Ghost." Mumbling to herself half incoherent, she finally bats his hand away and turns to cast a glance back.

Her steps falter into nothing when she sees her boyfriend.

The sliver of skin beneath his mask is a sickly pale, blood dripping out from under it. His balaclava is soaked in blood, a strange waterboarding technique to chart for the future, her delirious mind unhelpfully supplies.

It's the stillness that jarrs her, makes the reality finally sink in.

Simon was quiet, he was purposeful, he could lay looking through a sniper scope in one place for hours but he was never still.

This kind of stillness was one brought by the absence of the warmth of light.

Gaz is talking...is he? His mouth is moving that much she can see out of the corner of her eyes, but all she can hear is static as her mind clicks together a devastating picture, a scene that would haunt her for as long as she lives.

Dead.

She thinks she might throw up.

Simon. Ghost. Simon was dead.

They were supposed to be a pair. Unbreakable. Where one went, the other followed offering the silent reassurance that neither of them would ever be alone.

Where one went, the other followed.

She lunges against Gaz's hold, the strength in her battered form surprising the soldier enough to allow her to rip free and stumble over to her lover.

Shaky hands fumble around Simon's body, one of them grips his gloved one in her own tightly, God he was cold, how was he already cold? until cool metal meets her fingertips, slicked with their blood.

People call her name. One person...maybe five? It doesn't matter, nothing matters right now but the press of the barrel against her forehead.

There's no hesitation when she pulls the trigger.

But there's a distinct lack of blinding pain.

A stunned, heavy silence takes hold of the field. Slowly, guilt and dread and hate and self-loathing curling up in her gut, she peels her eyes open to see her team. Her family.

And if the cold corpse of her lover beside her wasn't already punishment enough, the devastated, broken, confused looks on theirs' definitely does.

Soap makes a strangled noise when she pulls the trigger again, her head full of cotton.

Click.

Oh.

That's right.

The chamber was empty, wasn't it?

Staring numbly at the gun, at the pistol that Simon had carried with him throughout his entire career, she doesn't fight the hands that grip at her, that pull her up.

Doesn't fight the way Simon's cold hand slips from hers. When the gun is gently pried from her iron grip.

Words fall upon deaf ears, a buzzing sound accompanying her glazed over expression as she stares at two soldiers dragging over a body bag towards him over Price's shoulder.

"It's alright, lass." Soap mumbles in her ear, and distinctly she notes the sheer of tears in his eyes out of the corner of his own. "We've got ya."

"He's..." She says faintly. Simon's head is zipped into the bag out of view. "Gone..."

And then she cries. No, crying is too lenient a word, for what leaves her is a sound reserved for a wounded animal, a sound that not even the most experienced interrogators could ever hope to coax out of her. She wails and cries, hoarse and raw because nothing about this was okay. Nothing was okay. Nothing would ever be okay again.

Because she was alive.

And her other half was dead.

And she was still alive.

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(1/08/2023)