#i just feel so bad and i need money so I'm being brave but i really don't want to and i want to sleep and not be in pain and nauseous

[advisorsage]

I'm being so brave right now

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[NEXT PART]

Okay I'm trying to be brave and post this before I chicken out, first time writing a fic, and I'm not sure if this is any good.

So, since I don't have time to draw out all of the revenant au story, but I still want to share it, I'm writing it instead.

Will continue this if people are interested!

[this isn't requiered but reading the comic might help you understand this better]

[also there's a Soap pov version of this by Badolmen, it doesn't line up 100% because we didn't work together but it's very very good and you should read it regardless]

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking, Ghost.”

He shifted in his place. Can never get used to Price’s voice in his head.

“You know I work best alone. All he’s gonna do is get in the way.” 

Price’s mustache twitched, as if he’s fighting a smile. Bastard is about to drop something to win the entire argument, Ghost already knows.

“He’s a revenant. Strong one too.” 

Fucking figures. Still, he could argue he doesn’t need any support-

“Intel is rigged with explosives. And the Sergeant just so happens to be explosion-proof.”

…Fuck.

Ghost sighs heavily like he was presented with an unreasonable amount of shit to deal with. He watches as Price sits there, shit eating grin spitting at him. He looks back to the folder, at the details of this already annoying mission, “you said there are 2 buildings?”

Price snaps from his self boasting to confirm “one suspected barracks and the other an abandoned warehouse. Warehouse contains the majority of explosives.” 

Finally finding something to work with, Ghost straightens his back to his usual self-assured posture, “the Sergeant can deal with the warehouse, I’ll clear the barracks. No need to work together.”

Price seems less happy about that. Serves him right. He sighs and drags a hand over his face, and Ghost almost feels bad for ruining his plan to get him to play with a team. Almost.

“Will it kill you to try and work with the lad?” Price asks offhandedly, while organising the folder back to the never-ending pile of documents on his desk.

“You mean again?” Ghost would wear his own shit eating grin if his face wasn’t permanently covered.

Price still seems equally pissed. Probably saw it in his literal mind’s eye. “Get out of my office Lieutenant, wheels up at 0500.” He gets up and walks around his desk to face Ghost, “don’t scare the kid off alright? I have a feeling you two could mash well together.”

Ghost tilts his head and projects the most doubt he could muster at Price. “Yes sir.”

This is going to be a bloody long day.

It’s not that Ghost hates people per se, it’s just that most of them seem hell-bent on being annoying, disruptive, or boring. Useless on the field for someone of his caliber, and even more useless off-field.

He knows he’s not exactly easy to relate to, but he couldn’t care less about trying to be. He’s here for one purpose. And it’s not “making friends” or whatever Price and Gaz has been trying to push him towards.

He wonders which category the Sergeant currently standing in front of him will fall into. By his fidgeting nature and easy smile, Ghost would put his money on “annoying”.

The Sergeant, “Soap” apparently (Ghost wonders if that callsign was given to him before or after he died a probably painful death), now directs that smile at him, seemingly undeterred by the giant man wearing a skull like a stereotypical grim reaper. He has to give it to the lad, at least he hides his discomfort well.

“You must be Ghost, eh? Let’s get ourselves a win LT” The Sergeant says with an obvious Scottish accent, fist-bumps his shoulder and walks off towards transport.

Oh, annoying is definitely winning.

Despite that, Ghost can’t feel like Soap really fits it. He’s unlike the other muppets in the category, He’s not poking him like the rookies do, trying to make him reveal his powers.

No, the Sergeant is annoying like an overly friendly dog is to someone that doesn’t want to be licked. He’s acting like they’re just two normal soldiers on their way to a normal mission, not the unnatural, unexplainable phenomena they actually are.

Ghost will have to keep watching. Certainly on field he will be able to find out his true colors.

On the helo, Ghost picks his usual spot near the ramp, where the lights don’t reach as much and most prefer not to sit, and observes Soap. His fidgety nature stayed the same, but the carefree expression he wore on ground morphed into a determined one, face stern and serious. He seemed lost in thought, eyebrows twitching here and there. He sees how his fingertips flicker, watching flames dance between them before the rapid movements put them out.

Well, at the very least Soap doesn’t fall into “boring”.

Clearing the barracks is a laughably easy job, even without using his powers. Although, it would’ve been so much faster with them… too bad he doesn’t hate the Sergeant enough to send him to Limbo.

They practically run through both buildings, untouchable storms. Ghost has to admit, Soap is clearly competent, disarming bombs and taking down hostiles at an impressive rate.

God, he hates when Price is right.

“Ground floor clear, heading to the basement” Soap relays on comms. 

“Copy, clearing third floor, keep an eye out for Intel.” 

“I have to say LT, you’re not quite like I expected.”

Feeling’s mutual, Ghost thinks to himself. “That so?”

“Aye, you’re not a major cunt for starters.”

That startled a small huff out of him. What the hell do the rumors say about him? He would have to ask Gaz about that, “Could still change that Sergeant.” he mock-lectures him.

A small laugh is what he gets in return, “I doubt that. I’ve worked with some bastards before, you barely make top 50.”

“Only 50? I hoped for at least 20”

“Got work cut out for you then, sir”

“That I do.”

Ghost continues clearing the floor methodically before faltering for a moment. Why was he entertaining the Sergeant like that? Since when does he joke with people? 

Though, he would’ve done it more if he had someone so ready to joke back…

Useless thoughts. 

Cursing Price, Soap, and all other stupid distracting things swirling in his head, Ghost takes down another hostile.

The mission is going without a hitch. Which is usually when something “hitches”.

A couple of minutes after Soap’s last words, Ghost sees a bright light flash from the warehouse, before a soundwave shakes the windows of the now barren barracks.

One of the explosives went off… “Soap, what the hell happened there?”

No answer.

Ghost knows he’s fine. Price wouldn’t brag about how “explosion-proof” he is otherwise. But he’s not answering…

“Sergeant, give me sitrep, now.”

Ghost stands still for another minute, listening to static. He checked the last room right before the explosion went off, so he just has to go to exfil and wait for the Sergeant at this point. His part of the work is done.

He should just go to exfil.

Ghost climbs down the stairs and heads for the warehouse, a foreboding plume of dark smoke billowing from its roof.

If asked why he didn’t ignore his gut feeling and use his brain like always, he wouldn’t have an answer.

Maybe he just wanted to exchange one more joke with the Sergeant before they finish the mission and never see each other again.

Arriving at the doors, he sees how the ground floor caved in, creating a ramp down to the basement. He starts making his way down, when he sees bodies littering the debris. Was Soap ambushed?

“Soap? Where the fuck are you Sergeant!” Ghost shouts. He has half a mind to be quiet, not wanting to attract enemies to their location, before realizing no one would’ve survived this. No one but-

“LT…?”

“Soap, why weren’t you answering comms- what…”

He stumbles upon Soap. Soap, who's laying on the grey concrete floor, wheezing and shaking, a metal rebar in his hands. Ghost walks closer and realizes the rebar is going through his stomach and pinning him to the floor. 

The Sergeant’s eyes blearily look at the metal “I need, I n-need to get this out…”

He lifts himself half an inch and Ghost sees how the blood rushes out of the wound, how Soap pales. 

Ghost rushes to his side. “Stop fucking moving”, he slides his hands under his torso, feels his gloves getting soaked in blood, “let me help you”.

Soap’s breathing becomes less harsh, and he looks up at him, “you… you don’t have to-”

He slowly lifts Soap before he can say another useless remark. The muscles under his fingertips clench and the Sergeant chokes out a scream.

“Fuck” Soap mutters between pants. 

“We’re halfway there, you’re doing good.” Ghost lets him rest before continuing to lift his body up. The blood keeps rushing out of the wound, enough that he doesn’t understand how Soap is still conscious. The sergeant let go of the rebar, and is now gripping Ghost’s forearms like he’s about to fall to his death.

After a few seconds, which Ghost is sure felt like hours for Soap, he eases him off the metal and onto the ground. Soap immediately collapses, shuddering and holding his hands around the wound.

Ghost then realizes he’s not sure how the Sergeant’s powers work. Is this supposed to even happen? Is he actually dying?

Soap looks up at that moment, giving him a small smile that looks more like a grimace, “I just… give me a minute to heal, I’ll be ready to go soon.” he uncurls and drags himself to sit against a piece of wall.

Ghost frowns and slowly steps towards Soap and slides to sit next to him, “take however long you need.”

He doesn’t look, but from his peripheral, he sees Soap’s head whipping around and staring at Ghost like he told him he’s giving him a million pounds.

He seemed to find something in his expression (however much he could even see of it), and looked down at his bloodied hands, “thank ye…”

Ghost blinks down, “I hope this doesn’t lower my cunt rank.”

Soap lets out a small laugh that turns into a fit of coughs. More blood rushes out of his wounds, and Ghost internally winces.

“Ha… I think it takes ye off the list, mate.”

Ghost heaves an over-the-top sigh, “shame”.

Soap smiles at him, and Ghost notices it’s different from the one he gave him before the helo. This one is… warmer. Or at least it makes him feel so.

Soap lifts his shirt to inspect the wound, and Ghost can’t help by take a look. The wound stopped bleeding, and when Soap wipes some of it away, he can see how it’s already closing.

So he does get hurt… it just heals. Ghost still wonders how it all works, but he knows their powers work with bizarre rules, weird exceptions and what not. He can almost hear his Reaper laughing. Or whatever you would call that chilling noise it lets out when it finds something funny.

It doesn’t matter either way. Not like he’ll get to work with Soap again. 

The Sergeant exhales and lets his shirt drop, “a’right, let’s fuckin’ finish this.” he slowly starts lifting himself up before Ghost wordlessly grabs his arms and helps him.

Soap mumbles a thanks, “did you find any intel?” 

Ghost looks ahead. The climb out of the basement won’t be easy on his wound… “Negative. We’ll keep looking.”

Eventually they reach a door labelled “storage”, that is blocked by several tonnes of concrete and metal. Ghost internally curses.

Soap, who’s been trailing behind Ghost, reaches the door and looks around. Ghost is about to ask him if he’s got a few C4’s hidden somewhere when the Sergeant asks him, “permission to use my powers, sir?”

Ghost raises an eyebrow, “what are you planning?”

“Gonna blow it up sir” Soap says like it was obvious.

“...go ahead.” Ghost replies, half baffled Price forgot to mention the Sergeant, besides being unkillable by explosions, can also create them. 

Was probably in the folder he didn’t bother reading.

He takes a step back to let Soap Have a go. The Sergeant rests his palms on the debris, inhales, and…

A loud boom makes Ghost’s ears ring. He’s momentarily blinded by the bright explosion before he regains his vision, and sees Soap stepping around the remains of the door into the small room.

Ghost shakes away his slight shock and joins him. Soap’s powers intrigue him… he wonders what else he could do.

Somehow, the intel survived the explosions. Ghost could barely care. At least they won’t have Price on their case later on. 

As they walk towards the exfil point, a heavy feeling sinks within Ghost. He’s not sure what to call it, but if he had to it would be “regret”.

Regretting what, he’s not sure. Maybe he should’ve prolonged their walk.

And from a glance at his face, Soap might understand this feeling as well.

“You did well Sergeant.” He has the sudden urge to say. Maybe it will make him regret less.

Soap casts a smile at him. It doesn’t warm him in the slightest.

The chopper blades slashing through air never made him feel worse.

“I guess this is it then.” Soap says when they land.

Ghost turned to face him. That heavy feeling in him just kept getting heavier throughout the flight. Why?

“So it seems.”

Soap stares for a moment longer before sighing. Ghost wants to do something about the annoyingly heavy air of despair around them.

“Soap” the Sergeant hums, “Why did the Scotsman’s prank fail?”.

Confusion takes over his features, “what?”

Ghost inhales, “because no one let him get away scot-free.”

Soap stares at him like he brought shame to his entire bloodline. Ghost grins like he did.

“Steamin’ Jesus LT, that was horrendous.”

“Ah Sergeant, just admit my jokes are better, no need to be a sore loser.” 

“My gran got better jokes than this, fuckin’ hell” Soap laughs.

“I’d like to meet her.”

“So you two could battle? I rather not see you die of embarrassment sir.”

Soap’s transport decides to arrive at this moment, chasing away the small joy they both found.

Soap looks back at it and turns to Ghost.

“It’s been great working with you sir.” if Ghost was feeling bold, he would say Soap almost looks sad, “I hope we’ll get to go another round later.”

Ghost hates the hopeful tone in his voice. Hope is uncertain, leaves everything up to chance.

Useless.

“Likewise, Sergeant.”

He stays standing there for a few minutes, staring at the truck vanishing towards the horizon. As if it will lighten the boulder in his chest.

“So, Simon, what’s your verdict?” Price finishes after debrief.

Ghost thinks about the entire endeavour. Not annoying, not disruptive, or boring.

Soap is…

“He’s something else…”

Critiques are welcome! Nobody beta'd this so I'm sure there are mistakes lol (that and this isn't my first language...)

[conduitandconjurer]

I think I've figured out one thing (beyond that .... "ending" ....) that bothers me about TUA s4 and Klaus.

It seems like the popular dichotomy, in terms of his characterization, is "fearful of life because he's mortal" versus "careless and effectively invicible" and that somehow being divested of his abilities would pave the way to healing and guarantee sobriety. Klaus's rage at his family for saving his life by returning his powers is proof enough that HE believes this. Alongside this is the presumption that all of his character development last season, mastering the gift of immortality, is itself--RATHER THAN THE WAY THAT HE MASTERED IT (by being led on and used by Reginald, and made to equate his worth with his usefulness/skill)--should be nixed. It's bad for him to be porous to the veil between life and death. It's bad for him to be immortal. He can't "deal with it" and he'll go on a bender the moment it's restored. His unwillingness to drink the "marigolds" (until he's dying and forced to do so) is supposed to be proof of this.

I have some qualms with this line of thinking, despite its solid attempt at showing character development.

I think Klaus is braver than people give him credit for WHILE he is mortal. Friends have posited (and I agree with this part) that he becomes very high strung and phobic about any form of injury or illness because even though mortality is scary to someone who just found out he was immortal...and then lost that immortality...he also feels he has CONTROL over his own body and mind and life that he was NOT afforded when he could be possessed by ghosts and used for his conjuring powers (both by family and predators). And I've been harping on Klaus's need to actually have agency and grant consent since that squicky Ben-possession joke in season 2. But, agh.

To begin with, I don't think Klaus is 'afraid' of life (or at least that the fear is unwarranted or laughable) so much as he's forcing himself to endure what he KNOWS is deeply perilous and unfortunate t unlucky people like himself, without resorting to the powers that also open the door to substance abuse. Of all of the Brellies, he tries the hardest, the most often, to break patterns, when he sees that there is motivation to do so (more on this later). He is hardcore and brave as fuck, rubber gloves or not.

But is it really a good thing, or even necessary for Klaus as a character, to equate no powers with guaranteed sobriety and powers with falling off the wagon? I don't think it is.

Unfortunately, this is hard to glean from the audience pov, because all we're given in this season is the most extreme, toxic, abusive, stomach-turning example of how his powers can be abused the moment they return--and how, of course, this exacerbates relapse. We get the whole 'have sex with his body while the deceased possess it, for drug money" subplot. We get him getting so desperate for the cycle to end that he begins inviting harm and self-harming out of some grim hope that his powers will fail (getting shot in the head scene). And he needs the drugs that this awful situation provides BECAUSE OF said situation. Compound upon that the PAST trauma that it's opening back up like a raw wound (literally, from at least the age of 8). Of course Klaus is using because of his powers, but because THEY'RE BEING ABUSED.

Klaus's abilities don't guarantee a fall off the wagon. His low self-esteem does, and the inability of anyone in his life to communicate with him or intervene does. When (deleted but still important scene) Lila's relatives are calling him, in front of him, a loser junkie (etc), and he says, "Yeah, that's....that'd be me," Klaus is mortal. We see the cogs in his head turning: yeah, I'm worthless, what's the point. And it's already too late right there, unless someone intervenes.

"What's the point," AND NOTHING ELSE, is Klaus's kryptonite. And he isn't a fatalist by nature, I'll (controversially, I guess) add, but there are things nobody can endure forever. Klaus, like any addict, is there because of underlying core beliefs about himself and about his ability to change his circumstances. What I love about the deleted scene that shows Klaus INSISTING on having his AA meeting is that he becomes his own advocate, because well, the Hargreeves are "all assholes" (well spotted, Klaus, lol) in their own ways, and each has to be their OWN intervention. This has more to do with self-determination than it does with seeing ghosts. The cause and the remission of Klaus's addiction is deeper-seated than powers that are given and taken away at surface level.

Why is this so important to me? I guess because to me the powers Klaus never asked for still remind me of something perhaps not initially intrinsic to someone's being--but still something they have to integrate into their lives in order to go on living. I think it MEANS more to fans who identify with Klaus (at least it does to me, someone with debilitating chronic illness) that he be able to transform his abilities into a strength that is, to Klaus and his loved ones, benign, while also not letting it become the central facet of his identity. He IS a medium, but he is also OTHER things. He is a human being, and all human beings have many interests, roles, and hopes.

The precipiating events of Klaus's trauma are NOT his ability to see ghosts or resuscitate. They're the abuse inflicted by those who would use Klaus for their own gain. Why should he give up his powers in order to heal, just because Reginald is an unconscionable monster who was willing to kill his own child over and over and over? I wish Klaus himself had had this epiphany before the show ended.

Losing his powers for good would certainly be the quickest route to healing and growth, and fine, if fans like it, go for it. To me, though, it feels like "don't ever wear crop tops because if you do, you won't get SA'd." Like, no. Maybe the world needs to operate by a kinder standard. Maybe Klaus needs a real support group, a better family of his own, to help him contradict his feelings of self-loathing. Maybe he needs the AA counselor to stay when he shows up for his chip. Maybe he needs reliable transportation to and from. Maybe he needs to move to a different city. Maybe he needs to chat with some of the ghosts he sees, and start a fucking Tuesday evening afterlife meditation circle. Maybe he can get a cheap apartment and fill his living space with succulents that he has to be held accountable to feed and water and keep ALIVE. Maybe he should become an AA counselor and help other people go the right direction. Maybe he should resort to poetry or knitting every time he has an urge to use, and that can become a healthier compulsion. Maybe someday he can get a kitten or start dating again (someone alive, in this century). What Klaus needs is to have MORE in his life to define him than his powers and how they can be used for the benefit of others.

Maybe the TUA writing staff is weirdly sadistic and won't let any of that happen. But by God, we can. And it's important. It's important that healing and remission not be dependant on things others can bestow or take away (like powers). It needs to depend on something internal, an "internal locus of control," as the CBT shrinks call it. THAT is having control over your own life.

[bbobpul]

break my heart again 2 — njm

PAIRING. na jaemin x reader SUMMARY.how's jaemin gonna give back for all of y/n's efforts now that he finally can? it's been years—just how much has everything changed? GENRE. angst, fluff, she fell first 🤭 W/C. 3.5k NOTE. hello, part two is here! so sorry i couldn't make a taglist. i didn't have time to make one. nevertheless, i hope this fic make its way back to you. love u all and thankies sm !!!! also, my requests are open !!!

(⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!⁠→ my other works !!!!!! part one here!!

i find it hard to picture myself ever being as dedicated to something or someone again, just like how i dedicated my entire college life to na jaemin.

lately, i've been feeling like i forgot what it's like to actually have a dream. back then, na jaemin was my dream, he was my driving force. i would force myself to wake up so early in the morning just so i could see him (or his car) enter the gates of the university. i would go to school even though i am sick and feel a lot better when i get home because i saw na jaemin. but now two years after graduating, i still haven't found a decent job that i actually enjoy.

it's a common experience that many people go through, and i suppose i shouldn't complain about it. maybe i need to put in more effort and push myself harder. part of me wonders if having na jaemin back in my life would rekindle that same sense of dedication that i once had. but as i say these thoughts out loud, they sound absurd, even to myself. why would i wish for my first love to return just so i could find a decent job? why would i long for na jaemin to come back merely to feel that spark in my life again? it's puzzling why i'm even dwelling on thoughts of him and wondering if he holds the key to my happiness and success.

oh, to dream.

oh, for that old dedication to still burn within you.

if only you hadn't acted so dumb that day. could life have taken a different path? are you even happy now? if you hadn't let fear hold you back back then, if you'd actually been brave enough to listen and follow through, would you be happier today?

but no matter how much you keep bothering yourself with that memory, if people come up to you and ask if you feel bad about everything that happened that day, you'd say no. you don't feel bad at all.

deciding to let him go was one of the best things you did. he seemed happy when you left, and after that, you never heard anything about him. he's like a touchy subject in your group of friends, which can be tough sometimes since you share friends. but does it really matter now? him not being in your life probably means he's happier and more peaceful, right?

are you feeling peaceful? is being stuck in a 9-5 job that hardly brought you joy a happy situation? scratch that. did being in that job make you happy? clearly not, as you've just mustered the bravery to quit. and in doing so, you've never felt more joyful.

did you really make the right decision?

just as you were pondering your own question, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. you grabbed it and saw that the caller was renjun, your incredibly patient best friend.

"y/n," he said, his tone becoming unusually serious. "what's up?" you asked. "do you need money?" "yeah?" "here's the deal: our college is putting together a documentary film, and they've chosen your department. but guess what? your old classmates are bombarding me with messages because it looks like you're ignoring them all. frankly, i can't believe you even answered my call," he griped. "wait, hold on. what film? and why would they pick me? are they searching for someone with a post-college life so sad that it belongs in a documentary?" "well, you were practically a legend back in college, so… and apparently, the director specifically wants you, which leads to… well, another issue…" "what's the problem now?" "it's going to be directed by jaemin."

and just like that, you ended the call. but a few seconds later, renjun's call came in again.

"i'm not going to do it." "you stubborn brat." "why him?" "i have no idea!" "why is he even directing? wasn't he studying architecture or something?" "i don't know, y/n. i haven't heard a single thing about him since your graduation." "what do you mean?" "that's not important now, y/n. you're in need of money, right? seize the opportunity. do it for the cash." “so will you do it or will you do it?” “for the cash.”

...

"y/n, you've moved on, haven't you? what's done is done. i'm pretty sure jaemin has forgotten all about it. this chance is coming your way, so just accept it." "i guess i will."

you're drawn in by the idea of making some extra money and the possibility of catching the eye of potential agents or employers. right now, you're at a crossroads, thinking about how this documentary could be a stepping stone to more job opportunities down the line. this situation is different from what usually drives you – this time, it's not about others, it's about focusing on your own goals and aspirations.

you're deliberately avoiding dwelling on your past. just as renjun mentioned, you've moved beyond it. what's done is done. right now, your focus is firmly on the present and the potential that lies ahead in the future.

what's in the past is behind us, including whatever existed between jaemin and you.

from renjun

tomorrow at lunchtime, they'll be going over the schedules and discussing what to film. if you want, you can chat with the director now. his number is 0825 813 2000.

in response, you simply replied with a "okay."

the night before the lunch meeting, a jumble of emotions has you in its grip. the idea of reconnecting with jaemin, who used to be your best friend and is now someone distant, fills you with a sense of awkwardness. you tell yourself that this is about working together and the chance to grow professionally.

after taking a deep breath, you decide to shoot jaemin a text. your fingers hesitate as you type, and the uncertainty you're feeling seems to seep into your message. you finally press send, and your text reads, "hey, it's y/n. heard we're meeting tomorrow for the documentary. just wanted to check in before that."

in almost no time, your phone buzzes with a response: "hey y/n, good to hear from you. yeah, looking forward to our meeting. let's catch up and chat about the project."

the conversation is polite, but beneath the surface, there's an unspoken layer of complexity. you can feel the hesitation in your exchange, a silent recognition of the shared history that's now a distant memory. as you talk about the meeting and the documentary, the easy flow you once had is noticeably absent.

as the texts go back and forth, a sense of tension seems to hang in the air. it's as though the years of friendship you once had are casting a shadow over your conversation. the effortless connection you once shared now requires effort, and both of you can sense the change.

as the conversation wraps up with a simple "see you tomorrow," you're left with a mix of excitement and anxiety. the idea of seeing jaemin again, especially in a professional context, stirs up a range of emotions. this situation is a stark reminder of just how much things have changed – and maybe how some things can't go back to the way they were.

you believed the conversation had concluded, only for your phone to ring once more, bearing yet another message from him. as you read the words on the screen, "i missed you, y/n," a rush of emotions floods over you.

"what's going on with him?" you mutter to yourself, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. your gaze remains fixed on the message for a moment, your attention drawn to the three blinking dots in the corner – a sign that he's in the process of typing a response. several more seconds tick by, the dots eventually vanishing, and in response, you shut your phone off. you make an attempt to settle into bed and get some rest, but truth be told, it's hard to claim you managed to sleep soundly that night. an undercurrent of thoughts and emotions keeps your mind restless.

the day of lunch lunch finally arrived. you sat across from jaemin, his words forming a distant hum as your thoughts remained clouded and preoccupied. the lingering impact of his recent message kept you in a state of unease, making it difficult to fully engage in the conversation he was leading.

then, something inside you snapped, and you found yourself abruptly interrupting him with a question that had been gnawing at you, "why me?"

he looked at you, his gaze steady, and his response was quick, "why not you?"

your frustration simmered as his words hit you. he was choosing to be cryptic, and it was only adding to your confusion. pushing past your exasperation, you pressed on, "listen, i know we didn't part on the best terms, but why come back now and act like everything's fine? i mean, sure, it's better than hostility, but why choose me? i'm the one who's no longer part of your life."

his expression remained neutral, void of any emotions as he replied, "that's not true."

you raised an eyebrow, challenging him to elaborate. "what's not true?"

"that you have nothing to do with my life, y/n," he stated firmly.

the weight of his words settled heavily between you two, the gravity of the situation growing more apparent. the lunch table had transformed into an arena for confronting unresolved issues.

you scoffed, unable to hold back your disbelief. "jaemin, i made one mistake, and now you're trying to imply that my actions shaped your entire life?"

his eyes held yours, unwavering. "y/n, it's not just about that one mistake. everything that followed, everything that shaped who i am today… it's all connected to you."

your mind reeled, trying to grasp the enormity of what he was suggesting. the complexities of your shared history seemed to crash over you, leaving you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions and a tangled web of unspoken feelings.

the weight of his words left you momentarily speechless, and in an attempt to shift away from the intensity, you sought to change the subject. "where are the other producers? why is it just you here?"

"y/n…" he began, his tone suggesting he wanted to continue the previous conversation.

however, you opted to sidestep the discussion entirely. you pretended as if the profound exchange hadn't just occurred. "i notice you're taking on the role of a director now. quite the career shift, huh?" you inquired, masking your internal turmoil with a casual demeanor. you acted as if there hadn't been a two-year gap in your connection, as though things between you were perfectly ordinary.

he met your gaze, a faint hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "i pursued another dream when i felt i'd lost the chance for my first one."

"your first dream… not architecture, then?" you prodded, curious about the direction he had taken.

he shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him, leaving you puzzled yet again. "no, not architecture. well, i suppose that just wasn't meant for me back then, but maybe it is now."

the cryptic nature of his response only added to the layers of confusion and intrigue that surrounded him. there was something about the way he spoke that hinted at deeper currents beneath the surface, emotions and experiences that he hadn't fully revealed. you found yourself torn between the desire to push for answers and the instinct to allow him his privacy. the lunch meeting had transformed into a stage for untangling not just the complexities of the documentary but also the intricate web of emotions and history between you and jaemin.

leaving the restaurant, a whirlwind of unanswered questions dances in your mind. yet, for now, you choose to tuck those thoughts away, focusing instead on the looming filming date just a few days away – next saturday.

in the span of time between that lunch and the upcoming shoot, jaemin proves consistent in his attempts to bridge the gap between you two. he regularly reaches out, updating you about his day and proposing get-togethers, which you consistently decline.

the days pass, marked by a series of messages and missed opportunities. despite the undeniable tension, there's an undeniable persistence on jaemin's part, a determined effort to reconnect and reestablish a sense of familiarity. however, your apprehensions and the memories of your past dynamics hold you back, keeping you from embracing his overtures.

as the countdown to the filming day continues, you find yourself in a delicate dance – balancing the unresolved history between you and the prospects of the future. the lines between your personal and professional lives are blurred, and the documentary project becomes a backdrop against which the intricacies of your relationship with jaemin play out.

you find yourself constantly pondering what his intentions could be. his actions leave you wondering, and you can't help but question what he's aiming for. in your perspective, you're merely a negative aspect of his life – a streak of misfortune. you would have expected him to have learned from the past, but his determination remains unshakeable.

as you contemplate these thoughts, your phone lights up once more, bearing yet another message from him. his name on the screen triggers a whirlwind of emotions – a mixture of uncertainty, annoyance, and a hint of curiosity. opening the message, you brace yourself for whatever he might convey this time. the consistency in his attempts at communication only serves to deepen the intricate web of emotions you hold for him, leaving you caught between your shared history and the unpredictability of the present.

"the offer's still there, y/n. :)" "jaemin, let's be real. just because i'm on board with your documentary idea doesn't mean we're suddenly best buds again. a lot has changed." "i want to reconnect, though." "actually, scratch that. i want to get to know you all over again." "jaemin, i appreciate the effort, but let's keep things professional, okay?" “i’m sorry, y/n. goodnight.”

after your straightforward message, his responses ceased. a silence settled in, stretching on until saturday – the day you were set to see him again. the anticipation and uncertainty had been building, and now the moment was finally at hand.

you stepped into the studio and immediately noticed that you and jaemin were the only ones present. your confusion must have been evident on your face, prompting him to address the situation promptly.

"um, the team thought having fewer people in the room would create a more personal atmosphere," he began, his voice carrying a hint of unease. "and, well, they decided to keep me here, you know, being the director and all, and also because we have a history…"

his words trailed off, and there was a subtle vulnerability in his tone. it was as if he was acknowledging the intricacies of your past connection, while simultaneously recognizing the complexities it introduced into your current dynamic. the studio, usually a place of creativity and collaboration, had transformed into a space laden with the weight of your shared history.

"it's okay," you responded, your words carrying a touch of reassurance. as your reply registered, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips – a detail you couldn't help but notice. after all, it was that very smile that had ignited four years of your life, a smile that held memories and emotions you had both shared.

"um, i'll just ask you a few questions, and then you're free to go," he stated, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness that didn't escape your notice. this new facet of his demeanor felt unfamiliar to you, a departure from the confident jaemin you had known.

you found yourself disliking this uneasiness, and a thought occurred to you – maybe it was time to rekindle something within him. as he began asking you questions, you decided to respond in a way that would evoke a certain familiarity between you two. it was a subtle attempt to bridge the gap, to draw out the person you once knew.

you had believed that his silence was what you wanted. you had convinced yourself that distancing yourself from him would protect you from the past mistakes. but now, facing the reality of the situation, you realized that perhaps a certain selfishness was ingrained within you. maybe, just maybe, you yearned to erase the distance, to defy your own rationalizations.

in this moment, you found yourself yearning to rekindle what had been lost, to bring back a connection that once meant so much. the conflicting emotions within you painted a complex picture of your desires – a battle between self-preservation and the longing for something more.

however, as you locked eyes with him and saw the lack of any discernible emotion in his gaze, a haunting wave of fear resurfaced within you. in that moment, it was as if time rewound, taking you back to the day of your graduation when your heart and spirit had felt shattered. the memory of that painful experience rushed back, accompanied by the doubts and uncertainties that had plagued you.

if you were to truly confront your own feelings, you'd admit that what you witnessed that night had left you questioning your own worth. the events had stirred up doubts about whether you had ever been deserving of taking risks for, whether you had ever been someone worth fighting for.

"hey, good morning, y/n."

"morning, director."

"how's today treating you?"

"pretty good, thanks."

"hmm, and what's life been like after college?"

"…"

"take your time."

"at first, i felt okay. my friends were all getting closer to their dreams, and i was genuinely happy for them. especially…"

"especially who?"

"especially the person i left behind."

"…"

"i was content being happy for someone else. then another year went by, and i wasn't feeling so great anymore."

"do you really think they're happy?"

"hmm?"

"the person you left behind."

"yeah. and my other friends seem happy too. they've got jobs they love, they're with people they care about, and i only had… renjun *laughs* … but sometimes, i can't help but feel like i'm the one who got left behind, you know? even though i was the one who walked away."

"let's talk about your person."

"oh *laughs* he's not my person."

pausing for a moment, you glanced at jaemin behind the camera. the question lingered in your mind: what was he trying to do? his actions and intentions remained a puzzle.

his expression grew serious, his gaze fixed intently on you. it was as if he had something to convey, something he was holding back.

"the last time i actually saw him was in an instagram post. he was with some girl. it happened on my graduation day. i waited the whole day, hoping he'd appear in the midst of the crowd. when he didn't, i held onto the possibility of seeing him by the gates. but that didn't happen either. my last hope was maybe he'd send me a single message, but by the end of the day, nothing came. then i went on instagram and saw a photo – a warning, i guess. a warning that i should just stop hoping. that… happened a few weeks later, i think. or maybe it was just a few days after our argument, the one where he told me he couldn't love… yeah."

you met his gaze and once again, his face was serious. his eyes were furrowed and his mouth was slightly open. a few moments passed, and he let out a shaky breath. screw it, you thought, it's out there now and i don't care anymore.

your silent exchange was interrupted as he shifted the camera away. confusion clouded your thoughts as you watched him move. he turned back to you, his expression still serious, and then he grabbed a chair from the nearby table. he sat down with his back facing you.

the room felt charged with unspoken emotions, leaving you to question his intentions and actions. it was as if he was peeling away layers, searching for something beneath the surface.

"did you know that…" he began, his voice breaking the silence. "she was his sister?"

"i never told you about her, that's on me," he admitted with a chuckle. "that was her last day, y/n. so i decided to spend the entire day with her. i'm sorry."

you were taken aback. "i'm sorry–"

"it's okay, y/n."

"i know i left you with so many questions that night, but let me tell you… every effort you made, every cookie you baked, i cherished all of it. i loved you. i'm sorry if my actions made you doubt yourself."

another pause filled the air.

"i left when you left."

"you were my dream. architecture wasn't really my passion, you know? i was struggling a lot, but luckily, you were there with me. i decided to chase after what i truly loved when you left, because i realized if i wanted you back in my life, it should be when i'm at my best, right? i wasn't lying when i said i couldn't love. i didn't want to love you when i was broken. i wanted to be the best version of myself for you. i thought that if i wanted you to be with the best person, then that should be me. so i became that person, a director, and then i planned all of this." his eyes finally met yours.

"i was always looking at you."

tears welled up in your eyes, and he seemed to notice. he took a step towards you and enveloped you in his arms.

"i'm sorry for not holding onto you back then, baby. but i promise, i won't let go of you now," he whispered.

"i'm sorry for leaving, jaemin," you sobbed.

"shh, you did what you thought was right."

"do you want to have lunch with me now?" he asked.

a mixture of emotions flooded your heart, and with a nod, you replied, "yes, jaemin."

[https-milo]

6 ☾ Movie / Mina Ashido !!

DAY 6 OF FLUFFTOBER!

Summary!

- Mina has been begging to see the latest slasher that came out... too bad she gets too scared halfway through

a/n a teeny bit of angst and a slightly ooc Mina :p

flufftober masterlist!

"Pleaseee, Y/n?" Mina pleaded with her hands clasped together. She was pouting with the biggest puppy-dog eyes she could muster as she stared up at you.

"Baby, you genuinely screamed and cried the last time we saw one. We had to see the Paw Patrol movie next door so you wouldn't have nightmares," You replied gently with your hands over Mina's.

Mina huffed, "But that was last week! I'm so much tougher now!"

You sighed and nodded. "Grab my purse," You said. You already knew how this night would end; Mina would get terrified at the slightest jumpscare, she'd beg to see a kids movie, then she'd beg to spend the night at your place for "safety in numbers".

Mina cheered and as soon as she handed you your purse, you were out the door and on your way to the Cinema. "Two tickets to 'Blood n' Gutz' please," You said with the money ready in your hand. The worker nodded and took the money before printing out two tickets for the two of you. You nodded and smiled at the worker before taking Mina away to the snack area. "Pick out whatever you want."

Mina smiled broadly, "Really?!" You just nodded.

"Get me [Favorite Candy] and [Favorite Drink], please," You asked. Mina nodded and rushed off. 'Maybe the food will distract her from being scared?' but when you looked at your girlfriend, who jumped after seeing a cardboard cutout behind her. 'Probably not.'

The truth was, after the attack on the USJ, Mina's been more jumpy than usual. Being her friend since kindergarten, you always knew her as a brave girl who stood up for herself even when she was scared. She still was, but certain things made her afraid. The cut-out, for instance, looked remarkably similar to the leader of the League of Villains. She treated every new movie like exposure therapy and the fact you were by her side the entire time made it all the more bearable.

You paid for your food and drinks and headed into the theater playing the movie. "I'm so excited! Thank you for bringing me, Y/n!" Mina chirped as she ate a handful of popcorn while the commercials played on the big screen.

"Of course," You simply replied. Nothing else needed to be said. Thirty minutes into the movie, a shadowy figure with blue hair killed the main character's best friend. From beside you, you could feel Mina's heart snap. The grip she had on your hand tightened and she looked around worriedly. You noticed immediately and silently led her out of the theater and sat her on the bench right outside the door.

"I thought I could do it this time," she whispered. Her words were almost unheard, but you listened intently and nodded.

"It's okay, baby. Rome wasn't built in a day. You lasted longer than last time," You rubbed her back comfortingly. "I'm so proud of you. The fact you keep trying is amazing."

Mina sniffled, "You mean it?"

"One thousand percent," You smiled. Mina returned yours with a smile of her own. "Wanna go to my place and watch Hello Kitty and Friends?"

"Would I ever?" Mina replied.

So you two returned to your room with the understanding that one day she could sit through a horror movie, maybe not today, but one day. And you'd be there the entire time.

© https-milo. please do not repost, steal, copy, or modify my works!

Thank you so much for reading <3

FLUFFTOBER TAG LIST!

@drxgonspine

[coldalbion]

"And in many ways, that complaint has only gotten louder over the decades. Stop talking to each other and start buying things. Stop providing content for free and start paying us for the privilege. Stop shining sunlight on horrors and start advocating for more of them. Stop making communities and start weaponizing misinformation to benefit your betters.

It’s the same. It’s always been the same. Stop benefitting from the internet, it’s not for you to enjoy, it’s for us to use to extract money from you. Stop finding beauty and connection in the world, loneliness is more profitable and easier to control.

Stop being human. A mindless bot who makes regular purchases is all that’s really needed.

Over and over again since that prodigal moment of shame and hurt and confusion, I’ve joined online communities, found so much to love there, made friends and created unique spaces that truly felt special, felt like places worth protecting. And they’ve all, eventually, died. For the same reasons and through the same means, though machinations came from a parade of different bad actors. It never really mattered who exactly killed and ate these little worlds. The details. It’s all the same cycle, the same beasts, the same dark hungers. [...] And while Twitter hurts, I’m not sure anything will ever hurt as much as Livejournal did. It feels like no one even remembers anymore what happened to lovely, flawed, dog-eared, wacky old LJ in the twilight of the aughts and the dawn of the tens. Even though in this year of our lord 2022, when there are some pretty fucking good reasons to remember it, and learn its lessons...

So when Livejournal was sold, not to Viacom or Google, but to SixApart, a company no one had ever heard of, it was confusing. As was its refusal to develop anything like a usable mobile app. When fanfic communities started getting banned for gay content in the name of “protecting the children,” it was alarming and confusing. When it started going down regularly due to constant DDoS attacks, the new owner accused the community of trying to blackmail and destroy him for questioning what the hell was going to happen to all of us, when the Russian Prime Minister was commenting on fucking Livejournal, and when Russian users started put posts in English to let others know what was going on…we all just felt so helpless. It was sold to SUPMedia, a Russian company, and by 2016, had moved its servers to Russia and changed the entire site to conform with that good old very free and inclusive Russian law, but by that time, the community had long fled. Which was the point. Make it unusable and unreliable, bleed off the Westerners and the eye of Western media, and use the database to find and shut down dissenters.

And as hard as it was for us to lose that space where so many of us found family and work and connection, I cannot begin to imagine what those brave dissidents lost. What Russia lost. What they are still losing.

It was a small piece of what was to come. Like Gamergate and the Puppies, an experiment to practice taking apart a minor but culturally influential community and develop techniques to do it again, more efficiently, more quickly, with less attention. To lay out a reliable pathway to commit harm and lie about it for so long and in so many ways that by the time the truth is available, it doesn’t matter, because the harm is a foundational part of the system we’re living in. The harm is the new status quo.

Lather, rinse, repeat."

As someone who's been online nearly 30 years (I'm 18ish months younger than the author) who cut his teeth on dialup BBSses, Fidonet et al rather than Prodigy, I cosign this and beg you to read the whole thing.

[iheartmalewives]

The Cry Baby and The Stoic ᵕᴗ

Summary: Azul Ashengrotto was always known as the "Cry Baby" back when he was younger. Even if he tried and tried to change his personality, his emotions can't be controlled no matter what. So just what if, he met someone who was emotionless? Just how would he feel?

AZUL X GEN!READER ANGST

Spoilers ! ! !

Azul Ashengrotto had always butt into peoples' business, he calls it "an easy way to gain money"—which was an oddly long nickname of his unnecessary scamming.

Although Azul had a professional and calm yet scary aura, inside of all that, lies a "good for nothing" cry baby who had been bullied in the past.

Azul tried his best to change and to act more "professional" as his so-called-job needed his emotions to be put aside. After all, he should have no regrets of scamming people because this is what he asked for, this was his power.

Yet, even if he tried and tried, it will always come out. Sometimes when he's alone in his office, stacking papers and rolling up contracts, tears always fall from his very eyes; which results to a quiet break down so that no one could hear his vulnerable side.

So when he met you, he was shock. How could someone be so stoic, so cold? You always seemed to have a "Poker Face" on because he could never ever see pass through those dull eyes of yours.

You caught his interest, almost instantly. He was jealous of your ability to hide your emotions, he was so so envious. He wanted to be like that too, he didn't wanna be viewed as "vulnerable" ever again.

When he got the chance to talk to you, you were quiet as always, almost looking annoyed at his presence as Azul was always so charismatic. Yet, you let him off as he ranted and ranted about how you should do this and that.

Though one particular question caught you off guard, "How are you so stoic? I must say, I'm quite jealous of your emotionless behavior."

"It's not a gift, Azul." You replied to him nonchalantly, eyes gazing unto his. He shuffled uncomfortably as he looked at your dull hazy eyes. "If anything, I'm jealous of you."

What?

Why would you be jealous of him?

He's a cry baby and you know that. He even threw a tantrum when Leona burnt all of his contracts?

You wouldn't wanna be an embarrassment just like him, right?

"Non sense, prefect." He clenched his fist, lightly banging on the table before getting up. "I'm someone who cries... Way too easily." Azul's eyes avert to another direction before averting it back towards you.

"And?" You replied again with a monotone voice. "I think it's a gift that people experience such emotions. Yes, it might be bad and you can't control it but..." You fiddled with your fingers for a bit, "I think letting out your emotions free once in a while... is an accomplishment. A blessing. And that you should be proud of yourself for even letting those emotions out" You smiled.

It was the first he ever saw you smile at him like that, "Being stoic or emotionless isn't cool. I'd love to let my feelings out once in a while, so I'm envious of you, Azul. And I don't think you're a cry baby, i think you're brave."

It was as if your words struck Azul harder than lightning itself, he never heard those words, not once not twice. He was thankful he came across someone like you, even if you barely let out any human emotions, you always knew what to say.

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

SO I WANT TO SAY THIS BEFORE I FORGET!!

I noticed how each chapter of Twisted Wonderland's manga series based off each game and their chapter with each Yuu/MC/the reader and viewer is different in a way of what would help contrast the focus of the story.

Examples being Enma Yuuken is strong and obvious extremally masculine there fore "strong" in looks than Riddle who's "strong" in the sense of brains and magic as he literally bulldoze across any set back to be the top of his school to a degree of being Housewarden a mere weeks since joining as a new student vs. this one guy who has no magic and only seemingly became a student regardless of background or magic history and is able to make plenty of friends when he can't think of anyone outside of Trey and Cater and Chenya to call his friend, maybe even doubt if they even see him as his friend.

Then we have Yuuka Hirasaka who is confident, kind, loyal, and brave as shit, proving her point by risking her safety for a animal in the road. Leona, try as he might, wouldn't even give a chance to prove he can do that because everyone already doesn't expect much from him, or at least that's what he said. He's confident for a different reason, also if you remember how things run back in the Sunset Savannah you'd argue Leona feels extra bitter and more in need to try and prove worth more cause he grew up not only looked down on by his magic and potion in the royal line but also is honestly scared of the women around him. He's more confused with Yuuka especially since she doesn't show much fear to him

Next we have Mito Yuuta who I love the most so far due to what may come. Azul is confident and arrant as a show off little shield cause of his own self insecurities especially his image, specially his body and it's weight. He was relentlessly picked on by everyone besides his mother mainly due to his weight which from that level of trauma he's willing to work hard to become the smartest, the strongest, the most respected, and hottest out of spite not cause he generally feels that he wants to, to him he needed to. And it's obviously still stuck on him enough to not take pictures regardless how much money he would make and even making Yuu(soon Mito) to break into something dangerous and steal the only picture of his childhood he was unable to hide in the mind set of destroying it, regardless if he thought it would work or not. Meanwhile Mito Yuuta is a big guy who's okay and proud of his shape and eating habits and kind of like the ones before he him he actually has people who want to his friend vs. the unknown certainty that Jade and Floyd aren't technically his friends, they openly claim him as entertainment and if he got boring they'd leave him.

In other words there may be a chance other chapters would have a similar method with not just the design choice but personality design of future Yuus to contrast against the "flaws" of the chapter's "bad guys or villains"

I want Chapter 4 to be a girl, maybe make her beautiful in some way or have the personality of Jasmine from Aladdin that way the weird vibes of Chapter 4 being super hella romantic and even more ship baiting in any and all forms feel right, not to mention that scene of Jamil hypnotizing us in the kitchen DISNEY GIVE ME THAT AMAZING ART WORK OF JAMIL JUST LOOKING AT THIS GIRL AND MAKE ME AS CONFUSED IN MY SEXUALITY AND FEELINGS AS YOU DID WITH JASMINE AND ALADDIN WHEN I WAS 10 YEARS OLD!!!

I also think having Chapter 5's Yuu whatever gender (maybe male or masculine based cause there's a pattern it seems) but either make them somehow cuter than the ones before even if it's one trait or maybe give them something like a birthmark or scar of sorts that would somehow deem them "ugly" the their world but Vil would be lowkey obsessive of slowly as that was his character is, he's so obsessed proving he's beautiful and good and smart and strong to the point he obsessed over others and their flaws

Though with Chapter 6 I'm stuck on just cuz I want a sassy Meg type Yuu but also want a tall handsome muscular man who's like Hercules and everything Idia most likely would wish to be including with open mention of having great relationship with their family or maybe even them being an orphan

What are your guys' thoughts and opinions?

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

All Hell Breaks Loose Pt. 4.

Hello there my loves, i brought to the next part of my angst series. :D Still no happiness, just excitement and all the feels in the world. So, it's not my first time to bring in some other love interest (i'm greedy af), i can't help it, i love it. Also i'm thinking about a sequel with Graves, let me know if ya'll interested in that. Happy reading!

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of torture, injuries, military men, canon typical violence, Graves is bad (but i kinda like it), as i see it now it's lighter than the previous chapters.

Summary: You need to remind Graves of your shared past, hoping for more and easier time with him while Ghost and the team puts together a plan to get you out of the shadows by becoming one.

You have his attention. His full and utter focus. Everything froze in place when the words left your mouth, and you could even hear a pin drop. You see memories flashing on his battle scarred face, and for a moment, a tiny little second you see Phil, your friend, your partner, your most trusted companion. Only for a moment really, while the pain lives so urgent in you, it's a weak split second, but you can't deny it. It leaves you as soon as the numbness take over in your mind, so you can block out the the physical body you are trapped in.

Graves stares at you. No visible emotion displayed on his features, he just stands there, arms crossed over his bulletproof vested chest. This is not the time to stop damnit.

"Because i remember. Fuck it was a good time to be a Shadow, wasn't it? Doing important and reckless shit while making a shit ton of money. "

His eyes widen, maybe not so recognizable for his men, but you know you stirred something up in him. What you don't know, if anything, a shallow wave of nostalgia that hits him, but it's perfectly enough for you. A small grip on him, but it's better than nothing.

"Leave." He states, eyes remaining on you. You hold his gaze, brave and stupid enough to do so, no fucking way he can have the gratification of seeing you tormented any longer.

Shadows leave without a word, but not without some suspicious looks towards you and Philip. It's quite quick, how they clear the room with ease, remembering they are not only mercenaries and criminals, but soldiers too.

You feel yourself let out a breath, left with the only person who can provide some familiarity, conflicting feelings clash in you as you realize you trying to find comfort in the person who's hurting you with no remorse. But for now, you'll let yourself to be more vulnerable if it means you can have a win in a long run. You sigh again, Simon's face flashing in front of before you speak again. You gather every moment that you can recollect about Philip Graves, involving all the cases where he was stuck between you thighs. You want to replace those memories with better and happier ones. But for now, you need to push Simon in the back of your mind in order to have a grip on reality.

"Who would have thought, that we will end up like this. On the opposite sides of the battlefield. Not me for sure, not when i was tangled in between the sheets with you. Damn, i thought i can fucking conquer this piece of shit planet with you by my fucking side." The images of him, a younger, cleaner, healthier him, with a shiteating grin, clutching an AR firmly, already turned on by just a look at you mirroring his smugness. The thoughts start to mix up with memories of the 141 seeping into your life. Your brain tries so hard to replace the naked and filthy recollections with Philip, it feels so surreal to think about purposely of him, while you yearn for Simon and only Simon.

He looks sheepish, hell almost sad if you are being honest. Maybe not every human part in him is lost. Not that it matters, it doesn't. He'll die at the end of this, either with you or by your hands.

"After that mission everything changed. The job, the team, you, us. Every fucking thing turned upside down because you was greedy. You had everything on this world, and you wanted more. More money, more to your name, more power, more more more." You rant, words spilling like they should have years ago. You need time, you have to gain time for the guys to get inside. That's what matters, not Graves and his feelings. Not your feelings.

"OH FUCK OFF! Like you didn't enjoyed it. You fucking loved every damn minute of my power. You fed off of it like a hungry leech, you were a lost puppy until you met me, always ridiculed by the others, always the outcast." He tries to get to you, get under your skin. Just by the look on his face you see that he counts on you getting defensive, clinging to your truths, to yell and ague. And you don't do it, he so mindful that he leaves you time to speak up, to regain some strength to go against his acclaims.

"You can say whatever you want, Philip. I know what i know, it's my memories too. And at that time, you looked pretty much like someone whos enjoying it. Everything of it. You can be fucking mad at me for leaving, admitting that you went to far with it, it won't fucking change a thing. You lost. You lost the day when you did that job for Sheperd. You aren't the one who came out on top, and i know you fucking despise the feeling. Oh i know. It's written all over your face, i have seen it a million times before, and those scars on your pretty face couldn't hide that from me." Shit you have to be careful what you say, you are aware of the things he is capable of. But the words just comes so effortlessly.

"Because you know me so well, huh? You think you have that against me? Darling this goes both ways. Does dear Simon knows what horrible things you have done to amaze me?" He smiles wickedly, just like so many times in your past. He's getting close to you, enjoying the bickering between you two, the back and forth, it's entertaining him. He waits for your response. "I bet he doesn't. You just smile sweetly, nod 'yes sir', riling him up on the field just to spread your legs later. Yes of course you do that."

"Don't tell me you are jealous now Phil." You smile up at him, the upward stance of your lips feeling out of the place considering your position, but it sets him off completely. "Yes you are. You just went through all the times in your head when you were lucky enough to experience me. All the secret glances, all the 'yes sir's you like so much, the sneaking around, fucking me into the wall as soon as we hit safety. Oh you do remember Istanbul just the way i do, don't deny it."

He smiles too, maybe too openly, too honestly for your liking. After all, he is still Philip Graves. He's not immune to you. You still have a firm hold on him, since the day you put down your Shadow patch. No, since way before that. Now you can taste freedom on your tongue.

"Jealous? Why darling? I have you, am i not?"

And with that, a genuine smile on his lips, he leaves you bleeding onto the old wooden chair.

*

It's the most unnatural feeling. To wear a shadows gear. Ghost feels almost naked without his own shit, skull changed for a plain black mask, the M4 alien in his hands, with the wrong attachments, his senses altered by acting like a Shadow.

From the moment the light-bulb lit up in his head, he felt lighter, suddenly he had a clear view on the operation.

"We thought about it Lieutenant, we went through it, and it's not possible. " Price was right, they went over it. Multiple times, but they never talked about one.

"No, it's possible. We did a job, it was one of her first with us. She went undercover, completely alone, in the blind, with only a code phrase. 'The good ol' days' in a shite accent you 've just heard. We teased her about for weeks after that." Soap explained, his face displaying a fondness of the memory.

"She wants us to go in alone, separately?" Price is shocked, not understanding it yet.

"She wants one person in there. One person is enough. If he's inside, and we set out a number of distractions, Graves will be busy with that, thinking we are using brute force to get inside."

Price and Gaz both looked wary of the idea. Yeah it can work, but will it work?

"We choose one Shadow who patrols outside. Preferably alone for at least minutes, i grab his stuff, get in, follow orders until i exactly know where she is. When i find where she is held, i can give out a signal to you for decoy." Simon feels life blooming inside him, the first usable plan in days. The one he knows will work.

"Let's say you find her, how do you get her out? She will be heavily guarded, you are one hell of a soldier Simon, but you are only one man." In any other scenario, he would have agreed with John. Him alone isn't enough, but he's never been more sure of anything.

"She will be guarded, but he'll have to cut the numbers if we hit the decoy right. If he thinks we are coming onto him with an army, he'll focus his strength on that, not guarding a door. Yes, a number of Shadow's will be there, including me."

There is no space left for protest or doubts. While Simon couldn't assure Price fully, he still went with the idea. Honestly it was the best they've got.

That led Simon to a Shadow about his height, wandering outside far enough and long enough to put on his clothes. He won't need them no more. He's walking down a hallway, listening to directions and orders from the radio, occasionally Shadows passing by. Not one of them paid any attention to him, to his surprise.

Simon is okay. He's on the field, alone, right in the middle of the monsters belly, on the edge of danger and safety. He likes the rush of it, he thrives in this situations. This is the first time in days he felt in control, despite he's more like out of control. Completely. He needs to wait and see, gather the intel, orientate himself from the memory of the blueprint. He knows where he's going, but he doesn't.

"Soldier! Where are you going?" A stern voice behind him calls out, probably for the poor guy who should be in the suit. He acts on his sudden fright, plays into it like he's caught like a kid fumbling in the cookie jar. "Let me hear it."

Well shit.

"I had to take a piss." He mumbles out, feeling his cheeks burning under the mask. He hasn't done this in ages, honestly he forgot how irritating it was to be ordered around, and questioned all the damn time in his early days in the military.

"No shit boy, you took a while. Now get back to Jameson, he's been talking my ear off about how long you take all the fucking time."

Ghost stands there, completely baffled by the absurdness of being scold for taking a piss for too long. "Not just stand there moron, MOVE"

Okay fuckin 'ell. He turns right on the corridor, hoping praying that it's the old locker rooms what they use for keeping you. Rooms are small, reachable and easy to look out for. There is one way in, bet plenty of ways to get you out of there, just in case. If he would have a captive, that's the best place to held them.

The voice behind him doesn't follow, or speak up again, so they choose the right person. There was a heated debate at the table around the blueprint on who is the lucky bastard to die quick. Soap and Ghost was on the same page about their guy, and so far it's payed off great.

Simon can feel it in his chest that he' s close, gloved fingers tingling on the weapon. He tries not to grip on it too hard, ease his hold, not look so fucking tense, but how can he be not tense when you are somewhere behind a door. How can he not be on the fucking edge?

He slows his steps down as soon as he meets two other men mindlessly kicking the dust with their boots in their boredom. Just where he thought they would be, locker rooms, one or two door before maintenance rooms. Three people guarding you isn't that of a surprise when other Shadows walking by every goddamn minute. It's crowded, people come and go in the neighboring hallway, and by the look of them, Ghost is in the very place where he wants to be.

"Finally you sonovabitch, right about time dude, i thought i'm gonna shit myself soon." The shorter guy leaves with that. Ghost takes his place on the other side of the rusty metal door. The fucking door he dreamed about every minute of his restless sleep. And now he found it, but he can't just barge through. He can't do that. He can't.

Simon tries not to think about anything. Not the hostiles walking around unknowingly of his presence, not the burning in his veins, not the utter silence behind the door. That silence what makes him question everything. Are you even there? What if he's guarding the fucking weapon stash? Or supplies?

He knows you are close, but his mind can't stop doubting the instinct. He just knows. He always knows when you are close. When you sneak up on him at the mornings to wrap your hands around his torso, while he pours the steaming hot coffee for both of you, when you slide soundlessly under the sheets after your millionth of gaming youtube video that evening, seeking his warmth with tired eyes. He just knows, and he's never been wrong. Right?

His mind could eat him alive, but he chooses to press on the small device between his fingers and the M4, letting know the team it's time. Whatever happens after this, he'll get trough.

Exactly 180 seconds later, the alarms goes off after a small shake of the ground under him. He's ready to bring hell to this place.

*

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[smutinlove]

ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ʙᴜʀɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ—ᴄᴀʀʟ ɢʀɪᴍᴇꜱ—chapter seven: The Journal

Chapter six: Meddlesome

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Day 5

"Fuck!" she screamed. It wasn't fair. She had tried everything. Mae had even looked through the Grimes' family's personal documents. But there was no evidence that Judith wasn't Rick's daughter.

The odds were definitely not in her favor today. Maybe she was going insane, or maybe she wasn't. But slowly, she was starting to give up. She had already searched Rick and Lori's room and Judith's room. But she hadn't searched Carl's room. Why? Because it was a huge mess. And she did not want to dig around Carl's room like a beaver.

But if she wanted to know the truth, she had to. And so, with a brave face, she went inside Carl's bedroom. The first thing she checked was his closet, but all she found were clothes, hats, Band-Aids, bandages, and old magazines.

Then she checked his school bag. But all she found were Carl's old books and notebooks from the previous school year.

And then Mae checked under Carl's bed. But all she found were dirty shoes and a bunch of cans of Coca-Cola.

Mae lifted up the mattress. She threw it to the side when she noticed a small journal. Mae grinned mischievously. She grabbed it and sat on the floor.

She opened the first page. The writing was written messily. But it was readable.

Dear me,

I'm really sad today. My dad fell into a coma. Someone shot him. I cried so much. I'm still crying. My mom is sad too. And I don't know what I'm going to do. I feel bad for my mom. And I feel bad for Shane and myself too. Shane, because his best friend, my dad, went into a coma. And myself, because my dad is gone. And I don't think he's going to wake up. Ever. And it's not fair. I love my dad.

Mae stared at it, stunned. She wiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek. There were more, too. But she didn't have time to read them all. So she flipped a bunch of pages and read another one. She noticed that the handwriting was much neater. But it was still messy.

Dear me,

I'm fourteen. But I'm also stupid. Two weeks ago, my dad had to go to work. My dad's the sheriff's deputy. It was a casual Monday morning, specifically five in the morning. My dad was eating breakfast while my mom was bathing my sister, Judith.

And that was when my dad got the call. My dad didn't tell me much, but he told me that there was a robbery at a jewelry store. And that he was needed, and that the criminals were really bad people. I nodded. But I was a bit curious too. I wanted to see what my dad does on a regular basis.

My dad abruptly got up and left the house in a hurry. He ran to the scene because it was near our house too. I was so curious that I followed him. I wasn't being dumb about it either. I was a few feet behind him. (Hiding in some bushes while following him.)

I saw my dad pull out his gun. He started pointing his gun at even the slightest noise. He got closer to the scene. And so did I. There was a car that was flipped over. And there was money and jewelry scattered everywhere.

Then I heard a gunshot. It missed my dad. And then my dad started firing too. And then I heard a man scream in pain. My dad must've hit him. I smiled. My dad's awesome. Then another man appeared, and my dad started firing at him.

But what my dad didn't notice was that there was another man creeping up behind him. I couldn't let my dad die. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. I ran towards my dad.

I was in front of my dad. And then I heard two more gunshots. My dad must've fired at the guy. I was so happy. But then I felt weird. And then I felt something drip down my cheek. I touched it. It was scarlet red. Blood.

My dad turned around. "Carl!" I heard him yell. "Dad?" I questioned. I heard another gunshot before I blacked out.

And then I woke up in the hospital. My mom, my dad, and Judith were sitting right next to me. And that's when I found out I had lost my left eye.

I'm just fourteen. But I'm so fucking stupid.

Mae couldn't believe what she was reading. It was all so shocking and new. She didn't know how to feel about this new information that she'd found. And she didn't feel like asking Carl about it. Because then he'd think of her as a snoop. And Mae would be deemed untrustworthy. And she didn't want that.

She liked having Carl as a friend. She even considered Carl to be her best friend. But now it all makes sense as to why Carl never took off his bandage that was wrapped around his eye. Or why Carl was so hesitant to tell Mae about his eye? (Even though he never did.)

But Mae felt angry at herself for snooping through Carl's things. But now it gave her a deeper understanding as to why Carl sometimes acted strange. At least that mystery was solved. But it wasn't the one she truly wanted to solve.

Day 7

Carl was coming back tomorrow. And Mae was happy. But she was also scared. It was stupid to be scared, and she knew that. But she had broken Carl's trust. She had snooped through his stuff without him knowing. And she felt horrible. Up

Mae did something bad. And she did not enjoy doing it.

[broomsick]

Is it alright if I ask you for some guidance on connecting with the Norse pantheon? I'm entering into a really scary time in my life, grappling with going to college in the city despite being (up until now) a lifelong country bumpkin and possibly even moving out for the first time, all while being a timid autistic person with a terrible anxiety disorder.

Basically if there's ever a time I'd need the gods to be present in my life it's now, but I still struggle to feel connected with them sometimes. I still connect with them, I've had dreams where I talk with Odin and Thor and Freyr, but I can't say they're a completely consistent part of my life. Sometimes I even question if they're really protecting me, even though I know that's almost certainly the anxiety talking.

Is there anything you'd recommend doing to connect with the gods during a really stressful time? I have a very small and honestly not very impressive altar so maybe I should work to spruce that up more. Any guidance would be appreciated, sorry for bothering you 🙏 Thanks!

Hi there! First of all, I want to tell you that moving out is indeed scary, and it's very brave of you to consider moving so far! I definitely understand your situation, as I haved struggled with anxiety pretty much forever. Unfortunately, being a pagan with this sort of mental health challenge can bring about a lot of insecurity. And I find that sometimes, it can also make us feel disconnected from our spirituality. I don't think that this is something we can completely overcome. As a matter of fact, I find that it's better to ask yourself "why do I feel this way right now?", rather than say "I should be feeling this way, so why don't I?". What I learned with time is that our day-to-day circumstances affect our spirituality more than we think. For example, I often start to feel disconnected from my spiritual life when I've had a stressful week at work, or even just when I try too long and too hard to connect with the Gods. And on top of that, with social media being the way it is, people cant help but compare themselves with pagans who have more time and money on their hands. Now, I'm no expert on all things psychology, but I do know about spirituality. And I know that it comes and goes in waves: every single polytheist I've met experiences moments when they don't feel as connected to their Gods as they used to. Even those whose very career was tied to their spiritual practices. But those are not bad news! It only means that you have a healthy relationship with spirituality, and that you're not letting it overshadow the other important aspects of your life.

But more on the tips to stay connected to the Gods. What I know for certain is that sometimes, we have no control over how connected we feel to them. But there are a lot ways for you to keep them close to your heart. The first, in my opinion, is to make your spirituality into a safe and happy place. Find ways to make it fun! By listening to music that feels spiritual to you, writing down prayers or devotional poems when you’re inspired, wearing a piece of jewelry in their honor, making a Pinterest board into a little online shrine, drawing a rune or sigil which represents them on your skin, making art of the deities you love… In other words, don’t be afraid to mix your passions and your faith. No matter how “casual” it may feel! Sometimes, “casual” is what we can manage given our busy lives (which is why the size of your altar does not matter, it’s the love you pour into tending it that makes all the difference). It’s both perfectly normal and healthy. And if something about your practice/belief doesn’t feel right anymore, simply let go of it. Same goes if you don’t resonate with something that every other pagan seem to do.

Another tip I can give you is to simply try (don’t worry, I will elaborate). By this, I mean adopt simple gestures to honor them, even if there might not necessarily be a response. I find that this is especially important in moments when you struggle to feel the presence of your Gods. Leave them a small portion of your dinner every now and then. Do a little bit of research on this or that deity when you can. And if you’ve got the time, offer them a fruit, or a cup of coffee! Anything will do, no matter how small. Light a candle for them every night (routine helps a lot), and pray if you’ve got something on your mind. It’s normal not to see some sort of immediate response. But if you look around yourself during the day— if you look at the sunset on your way home from work, at the trees that rustle with the wind, or at the rain pouring outside your window—, and if you listen carefully to what people tell you, you might start to notice some signs. Recurring patterns and omens are a typical example of signs that a deity might send. It’s also fun to draw parallels between every day things and your deities. For example, to think of Freyr when you tend a cute new house plant. Or to pray to Skaði during a snowstorm! I have always loved “inviting” deities to witness certain events, so as to share the joy with them. I simply close my eyes, focus of the deity I want to call out to, and speak their name aloud, or murmur it. Actually, if you’re interested in this topic, I have written this post, which could be helpful to you!

Don’t be afraid to keep trying, that’s my most important tip. There’s really not much else we can do when we feel disconnected from our faith. Make your belief into something that feels right. Spirituality should be a happy place for you, and not a reason for worry. You deserve for your practice as a norse pagan to feel joyful and fulfilling. Above all, don’t force anything: these sorts of moments are inevitable. I’ve known them myself, and so has every other pagan. But things will get better soon, that I guarantee!

[heygerald]

Hiiii!!! As somebody who struggled with self harm in the past I was wondering if you could let us know what Gail would do finding out about Tom self harming vs What parks would do finding out about Tom self harming I totally understand if you don’t wanna answer this ask I know it is a complicated subject but if you did it would be awesome as someone who struggled with it in the past I love your works can’t wait for your new chapter !!!

TRIGGER WARNING: self harm, and general sad feelings.

Firstly, darling, babe, bub, I want to say that I sympathize so much with your past history, and hope that you know that life is so greatly worth living even when it's not entirely fun. I'm sending all sorts of hugs through the computer screen.

With that being said, thank your for your ask, and for bravely sharing your own personal experiences in relation to my story. I in no way claim to think I know what someone needs to get better, and what I've written is purely what I think would cheer Tom up if he was feeling down, but certainly not a cure all for these issues.

If anyone is struggling with this topic, please see a professional!

Now moving onto the ask, I don't want to say that Gail is evil incarnate; she's just a money hungry producer who doesn't really care about other people as much as she cares about fame. I do think, in her own twisted way, that she cares about Tom in the same sort of way that any manager might care about their talents; ie, he makes her money, and he needs to be smiling for the paychecks to come through. I think if Gail saw evidence of Tom doing s/h, she would be all smiles, hugs, and give some sort of impromptu speech about how talented he is. The problem would be that her caring would not go beyond her words, and after she leaves, Tom would once again be left feeling hollow/sad/unworthy.

Parker, on the other hand, would take it so seriously. As we've seen before (even when she was joking) just finding Tom in a bathroom having a bad reaction to drugs provoked her to stick around long enough for him to feel better. There's a lot of ways for people to treat themselves poorly, and she would be attuned to every single one when it comes to him. Whereas Gail would move on past the subject quickly, Parker would not let it go. She would also remind Tom that she's there for him, hugs, kisses, and doing whatever it takes to get his mind in a better place.

Sometimes, that's just holding him on the couch as they rot together and watch some Disney movies. Sometimes that's telling his assistant to cancel his upcoming meetings so he can focus on himself.

In the end, she would just make him feel loved whereas everyone else would be all talk, but no action. And at the end of the day that's what he needs; a reminder that he's not alone, and that even when he's at rock bottom that someone out there loves/adores/wants him.

[innytoes]

Chaotic Prompts II: Electric Boogaloo

It fucken wimdy

What do you mean, the raccoon stole the ring you planned to propose with?

I am straight up not having a good time right now

Come here you little gremlin

I am being so normal about this

Should I even ask or should I just assume the answer to your current predicament is 'I'm stupid'?

Excuse me, I'm not done saying hi to your dog yet

When I said 'be gay do crime' I did not mean this

Stop flirting with yourself in the mirror

It's a trash can, not a trash can't

Okay but serious question: What's your favourite dinosaur?

Get down from there

Oh, you're being gay. Good job, carry on

My tummy hurts but I'm being so brave about it

Yeet!

I got you Oreos as a peace offering

I came out to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now

I am a pretty, pretty princess, thank you for noticing

Oh no you activated their Mom Friend Mode

So basically your roommate is a cat?

Okay so I can explain

Why is your arm stuck in the vending machine?

Let's go, lesbians!

I can't believe our first date ended up in the emergency room

Hi Hungry, I'm dad

You bought him a cake that said 'nice ass, bro'

How am I supposed to Kiss Kiss, Fall In Love in these conditions?

You know, because of colour theory

If I were an alien I'd abduct you first

You could if you weren't a fucking coward

No thoughts, head empty

Please don't ever refer to yourself as that again

I feel like you're not taking this powerpoint presentation about why you should date me very seriously.

I'm just a silly little guy

The last thing you ate is what we have to name him... um, okay maybe not that.

I am a grown-ass adult and if I want to spend my hard-earned money on this I will!

Weird flex but okay

Fire solves all problems

What would your rather find living in your attic? 1000 roaches or one person?

I'm too pretty to be dealing with this

The house is burning, and you can save the cake, or me, what do you choose? / That's not fair, the cake doesn't have legs.

Have you no shame?

You are the yee to my haw

In my defence the five year old started it

So hear me out... we kidnap him...

I'm sorry I can't keep making out if your cat keeps staring at us like that

Kissing the homies goodnight

I'd beat up Satan for you

Eff this, I should be at the club

Eff this, I should be at Build-a-Bear

How are you going to gaslight gatekeep girlboss your way out of this?

You may not believe in mothman, but mothman believes in you

I am so totally chill right now

At the next inconvenience I will start biting people

They smell like sparkles and sunshine and I want to kiss their stupid face so bad

I'm sorry you broke your arm how?

We take stuffed animals very seriously in this house

Yeah that sounds like a you problem

Do you need a hug? You just seem very upset over the shape of these potatoes

Mistakes were made

I'm not like other girls. I'm worse.

They cut your grilled cheese into triangles, that means they're in love with you, bro

Is this a mid-life crisis because if it is I'm a bit worried about your lifespan.

Just because you can buy a box of five hundred tiny plastic meerkats does not mean you should.

Aww, it's baby's first war crime.

I don't think pancakes are going to fix this. I think I need ice cream too.

(For more chaotic prompts, part one is here.)

[wordyneonlights]

OK so I feel like I'm the only one who read the end of mha, like, the final chapter because what is this is this discourse I'm seeing.

First of all, I know it's a joke or whatever but Midoriya is not working at McDonalds (not that there’s anything wrong with that you do what you gotta do but people are framing it as him failing in life and peaking at highschool), he is a teacher.

Like, do you understand how important teaching is??? A bad teacher can make or break someone's like like a good teacher can save it!!

Him ending up a teacher is in no way a failure (at least to me) he's out here providing children with the support and encouragement that he never got, he can be a positive impact on people, he can help with quirk insecurities he can tell people the words he wished to hear!! That yes, no matter the quirk, you too can be a hero.

And while it's sad, class 1a splitting up is kind of realistic, in my opinion they kind of needed time to grow away from each other, them still being super close as adults feels a bit like trauma bonding in a way. In reality, it's kind of rare to keep the same friends you had in high-school, let alone keep relationships with the whole class.

Besides, it's obvious that everyone still has love for Midoriya because of the whole suit thing. But more on that later.

We see that midoriya's kind of lonely, yeah, and that's real. He's wanted to be a hero for so long and only got that dream realised for what??? A year. Yeah that must suck for him hut he gets up and still inspires kids everyday (ugh can you tell he's one of my favourite characters). And and and Horikoshi makes a big show of having him wait, or having him gain things he doesn't expect. Sometimes good things take time, but Midoriya took that time and did something useful!!

Anyway, back to the suit. My literal goat bakugo (who will get a post for himself because his character development is so amazingly beautiful) got the whole class to donate money for eight years, eight years to get Midoriya a new suit, he understood how important his dream was to him and did all that because he believed in him.

BUT, even if midoriya had remained a teacher, that would still be cool with me. He's still here encouraging a new generation of teens.

But... yeah, just wanted to get my two cents in because people framing midoriya as a lover is getting me upset especially cause he always gets alot of flak for expressing emotion as he does or like... existing as a character.

Nah, but to get real real Izuku Midoriya means so much to me as a character and a concept. Like call me a glazer or whatever but it's true. He's passionate, kind, brave, loyal and such a good person. Even when he doesn't get his dream he's ready to dedicate his life to helping others achieve theirs. What is that if not selflessness????

ANYWAYS, just tired of people acting like he ended up like some 'loser' when he literally became a hero. That's why he's in the big spread of everyone when they're all grown. Cause he's saving lives like they are

[tinydragonsnake]

Been a hot minute since I posted here, huh? Lots of shit's happened these last, what, almost 4, 5 years. I mean, I've been holding down a pretty steady job as a dietary aide at my local nursing home. My dad's pretty much out of my life. I have two nieces. Moth's doing pretty well, and so are my cats Ollie and Farrow.

Trump fucking won again and I'm still trying to get over that mess of feelings.

Look, I'm aware that I'm not the best sort of person to sit here and say "look at the bright side! Think of the good instead of the bad!" It's not how my brain works. Already I'm going down some pretty dark thoughts. Like, how far are they gonna be able to drag the US back into the dark ages? How scared do I need to be of being hurt or killed because of who I am? Of what I believe? How screwed is my life and my family's lives gonna be now, just from a theoretical standpoint? Is my youngest sister gonna have to be afraid she'll never work as a virologist? Is my middle sister gonna need to be afraid she'll never be able to go back to school? Is my mom gonna have to be scared she'll be fired and replaced? Are we all gonna have to be afraid well no longer be able to afford healthcare, rent, groceries?

I posted this in a comment section not too long ago, but my only real solace right now is that I live in New York State. Pretty liberal state, really. I'm not gonna need to be scared of the most extreme possible outcome happening to us here. New Yorkers are bastards, and we're a purple fucking shithole, but damn if we dont at least try to take care of each other here. In Western New York, I mean. Never been to the middle of this place. I know the rural areas are bumfuck town.

I'm just venting. Getting out my thoughts and nerves. Last I saw, cause I'm just not gonna keep looking and feeling that sinking stone of despair in my gut. I have to go into work with straight up Trump lovers. I gotta put on a brave face when they start bragging about how they're so happy he's won. I gotta lie that they don't terrify me with how they think so little of others. How if, in some unholy scenario this country legit turned into fucking Gilead, they'd happily toss me to the gallows.

World's fucked, man. Gaza's gonna get leveled cause Bibi's a fuckheaded cumstain. US might legit leave NATO. Ukraine'll probably be fine without us honestly, they've been kicking ass. Russia might have sanctions removed. Extremist right wing lunatics are gonna be bolstered. People are gonna die, from lack of access to necessary healthcare to outright murders to sheer negligence.

I guess there's some minor bright stuff, though. GLITCH Productions, an awesome indie animation studio, had one of their shows added to Netflix. The Amazing Digital Circus, if you didn't know. Great show, I love it and December is gonna be fun when episode four drops. The Monster Hunter community has been affectionately memeing on the PC beta for Wilds. I think it'd be cool if Capcom released official origami for the series. And Digmon and Monster Hunter are having a collab, which is not something I ever expected, but hey, it's cool. I've personally managed to grow the shit out of my book collection, and my plushie collection, and my games library. I have a PS5 I bought with my own money. Had to run to Buffalo to get the one I wanted. I have a Steam Deck. I got to go to my very first convention back in July, and I'm planning on going again next year as a VIP. I have a pretty big savings account. I make enough money I can occasionally splurge and not feel guilty. I'm writing a series over on AO3 for Murder Drones, and so many people have been enjoying it that I'm still a bit dopey over it.

It's not over. The world, life, the planet, society as we know it. Or maybe it is. None of us are gonna know till it's too late. And by then, I just hope it'll be painless for everyone. I'm just one person. I'm just some strange bitch on the internet full of anxiety and mental illness who's all doom and gloom about shit. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm right. I can't tell. I won't be able to tell. All I can do is keep living, and breathing, and fighting against all the evils that I can. And hey? If it ends up killing me someday? I just hope I put up enough of a fight that the next person has a bit of an easier time fighting back, too.

[bengiyo]

I Told Sunset About You Rewatch Ep 3 Stray Thoughts

It's time for the tension episode. This is where things come to a head. Let's just go.

This boy really liked Oh-aew so much that it rewired his sense of smell. It's really incredible how much Billkin was willing to be unattractive in this show. This team understood that to be truly beautiful, there needs to be a little ugly.

I'm really glad they took time for us to see Teh thank Hoon for the plane ticket.

I forgot we started with Oh-aew in the tub. The girlies were not ready.

Of course Teh is up at 4 am for Oh, but he wouldn't get up for Tarn. That poor girl. Look at Tuty in the background watching this gay shit go down.

Teh asking Tarn to go off with his friends while they all watch silently from behind the screen is still one of the best scenes in the e fire show. Will also never get over PP making Billkin cry for accidentally hitting him too hard during the horseplay.

See, even Tarn knows that Teh is making exceptions for Oh he wouldn't make for her.

They just love letting Billkin play Teh being awkward. The cut to Oh falling behind Bas? Incredible. Bas always knew what was going on and was so powerless to do anything about it.

Teh is actively flirting and confusing everyone!

"I'll be with Bas, then," but looks directly at Teh? Both of these boys need to stop using Tarn and Bas as a way to one-up each other.

This going back and forth between them, Oh-aew? Heart wrenching.

Truly, how much money have PP and Billkin made from Lays because of this scene on the deck?

Poor Bas. Puts his heart out there and gets crushed. Oh knew what agreeing to that New Year's date would mean. At least be has enough class to let Bad down.

This couch scene is great because it almost feels like it could be from a multi-cam sitcom.

Hammock scene my beloved. Oh-aew is so brave. He breaks the subtext of all of their interactions and pushes Teh directly. Lets him know as they're literally on top of each other that Teh is the source of his confusion about Bas. He asks Teh the question in a way that doesn't let him deny it. Teh knows it's coming and pretends like he doesn't. "I think you know. You really don't? But I think you do. Or you really don't? But I do think you know?" Teh can't help but ask, "Since when?" And can only answer "I don't know." And admit his desire for closeness when Oh leans forward and pushes.

And now Skyline. It's out in the open now. They may not have moved much, but everything shifted.

Oh, Tarn. I need you and Bas to get a scene like Lennier and Vir in Babylon 5 where they commiserate about Delenn and Londo.

Oh shit Teh is wearing the shirt. It's about to go down.

I get it, Teh. Oh-aew is just so alluring. This man is on the floor inhaling the paper. Mess of his face. He is so gone.

Skyline really is undefeated. The amount of control Oh exerts over Teh with just his presence is just so incredible to watch even still three years later.

"Why do you have to think so hard about it? Forget about it. Do whatever you feel like. There's no need for an answer, if there's no answer." This is what I'm saying!! We get so caught up in the warring over labels. They're just tools to help us think about ourselves. Oh knows intrinsically that these two are drawn to each other and it's stronger than what he's ever felt for Bas. That feeling is what matters. He offers Teh the time and patience of "secret" to let him figure it out. You can see Teh instantly relax at that and try to fall back into the flirtatious studying they've been doing.

Man, what is it about Teh? If Teh tells him he can't quit, Oh always finds a way to dig deeper.

Jesus, Skyline remains undefeated.

"As promised." It gets me every time.

I tell ya. It's always queer boys and their moms.

I don't know what went wrong with the original translation scene or the final scene from this episode when they were in post, but what we got was so good from the reshoots that I legit never want to see the discarded takes.

I still can't believe they filmed this while surrounded by tourists. The translation scene is still my favorite confession in BL. Oh knew what was happening. He knows Teh is flirting through these Chinese lessons. It's absolutely incredible. It's just so much. Teh connected the series that helped him find his purpose to his feelings for Oh. Just omg.

That's right, Tuty! Regulate!! You can smell the sexual energy! Don't let nothing gay happen on your watch!!!

Notice that the leg touching begins as soon as Tuty leaves? She lost focus and now look at us.

Oh is so careful, he mentions being tired from walking before touching Teh's leg. He's giving Teh another way to ease in by framing it as normal help. But the score knows. Oh's hand on the inside of his thigh knows.

Oh's shirt literally says sunset, and Teh is wearing the branded shirt. They wanted us to know how this was really the climactic moment of the show. That's where his head is still at.

JFC Teh pushing Oh's face to say he's not ready for that. Look. I need to pause for this one. So many of my young encounters did not begin with or ever involve kissing. It's just too much. We can rub each other's legs and grope all night, but there's something about kissing when you're in the closet that makes it too much. Oh made it clear it's what he wanted, Teh couldn't give it to him, but they can still touch.

"What if there are two male protagonists?" I was holding my breath at this point in 2020.

It's the way Teh can't stop moving as he pulls Oh onto his chest. He just can't stop touching. The breathing gets heavy. We know where this is going. And then he stops at Oh's chest and the spell is broken.

The hot, bothered, and devastated look on Oh's face is the most impressive single expression I've seen in all of BL.

The silence at the end is deafening, and then we go into PP singing Skyline? I remember this week breaking us.

What an incredible episode. All of the games. All of the rituals. All of the safety valves. All of the blinders. All of it just to have Teh bail in the moment because he faced the physical reality that Oh wasn't a woman. He once again made Oh think he wasn't enough after pouring it on thick all episode. Goddamn.