#i need to focus. i need to focus on myself for a bit. i need to make a fucking doctors appointment god forbid

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/767420735500271616/so-the-thing-with-content-is-that-is-literally?source=share

The thing that makes the jellyfish hat content is that it is an object containing paper mache, fabric, cardboard, and the assorted accoutrements of jellyfish hat-making (the optional but popular add-ons go listed here in your head).

and implies that the container is more relevant in this specific context than the thing contained

No. that's not an implication. That's a thing you're making up in order to have an excuse to get angry about someone using a word you don't like, but it's not true. If I say, "I dumped open the contents of the box onto the floor", it is very easily discerned by most readers I am looking for something specific that is within the contents of that box. It is insanity to insist that the word content = the container being the most important thing on Earth. If I write "he opened the small box, revealing its' content: a single, small wedding ring" and you think the box is the focus, I just flat-out don't know what to tell you.

Setting that aside: holy shit, please calm down. I'm a bit busy with organizing resources for my local trans community at the moment but I promise you, there are worse problems than someone using a word you don't like. There was an election this year - don't know if you noticed - that impacts real people. Looking at all your anon and off-anon replies, the thing I keep thinking is, "Holy shit, who fucking cares? There are actual issues going on in the world right now!"

The fact that something I sent in during a ten minute snack break at work and quickly forgot about lives rent-free in your head to this degree days after it was said is highly, highly concerning. I cannot convey enough to you how much I did not mean to set off an episode in you, and at the same time, I am also very genuine when I say this may be a hill you're willing to die on, but it's not a hill I'm willing to kill you on. I kill people on important hills and jellyfish hats ain't it, chief.

It's wild to spend my time IRL trying to help people figure out what to do if our state makes it illegal for them to get HRT in-state and then pull up my phone and see someone this pressed about the word "content". Surely your life also has an important issue you could spend time on? No one is having a particularly good time right now. Maybe focus on a thing with literally any relevance to your quality of life whatsoever? I know that sounds glib. However, having had manic episodes where one thing someone said to me sent me over the edge, I'm not being glib. I really mean it when I say that redirecting your focus onto something important helps snap you out of it. It's how I got myself out of it before I was able to get medicated for my Bipolar Disorder. I take zero joy in seeing someone forth at the mouth because one person said one word and that made them spiral. I really do apologize, and I can see that this panic is a very real, valid emotion on your end. But 'valid' here is used only in the sense of 'I believe you when you say you feel panicked', not 'the panic is a logical, proportionate response to the trigger'. (As a side note, after this many anon and off-anon messages indicating fixation and extreme emotional overinvestment, I don't want anyone saying I misused the word trigger. This is not a proportionate response to someone using one word you dislike.)

The jellyfish hat contains materials needed to construct a hat. It doesn't need ads or legal agreements in order to contain cardboard, paper mache, etc. You are trying to make a mountain out of a molehill. Likely, you are taking your anger at something that actually matters and redirecting it onto this, a thing that does not matter. I'm not saying that in judgment - we all do it - but I am not going to be replying to this further. You may have a desire to use other people's words as an excuse to spiral but you'll have to find someone else to use the reason you're losing your shit.

The hat contains the materials needed to construct a hat. It's not that deep.

--

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

how about A Gordon and Edward Analysis

Ooh yes… the OG dynamic! The first one, the foundation for everything!

(Unless you count “Edward and railwaymen”... or “Edward and coaches”... which, to be fair, I do…) 

These two are insane (affectionate). Hot take but this may be the saddest relationship on the N.W.R.?* They’re my two bestest boys but, man. Their dynamic is fucked. Edward and James are nothing compared to this. Gordon and Henry are healthy, relatively. 

tl;dr: They need couples counseling. 

Jobey, aren't you being a little dramatic? 

Am I? Take my hand. Let's do a close read… 

* This is going to focus on RWS (not tv series). Right now and for the rest of this post, I’m going to be talking strictly from the Wilbert books (and, thus, analyzing their relationship from the ‘20s to the ‘60s only) unless I specify otherwise 

Part 1 (this post): Gordon, what's your damage? 😭 / The Doylist Reason / Rent. Free. 

Post 2 (upcoming post, link later): Edward's Defences / Gordon's Growth

Post 3 (upcoming post, link later): Collision / Uh… Cleanup Crew?

tagging @weirdowithaquill because you asked for Edward+James and i wound up folding in most of what i have to say about them into this analysis 😅 in RWS they're a good foil for understanding Edward+Gordon

Gordon, what's your damage? 😭

There is a strong drive, right here on ttteblr, to portray how despite some notorious conflicts these two are canonically old friends. Also that maybe Gordon’s bad behavior is not so bad. 

That is a valid mission, indeed I flatter myself that I had some influence steering us down this road a few years back, however sometimes I think we're in danger of forgetting how often Gordon really has just been like… This: 

"You watch me this afternoon, little Edward," he boasted, "as I rush through with the Express; that will be a splendid sight for you." (1923) 

“I’ve done it! I’ve done it! I’ve done it!” he said proudly, and forgot all about Edward pushing behind. He didn’t wait to say “Thank you”... (1923) 

Edward puffed and pulled, and pulled and puffed, but he couldn’t move the heavy coaches. / “I told you so,” said Gordon rudely. (1923) 

So Edward found coaches for the three engines, and that day the trains ran as usual. / But when The Fat Controller came the next morning, Edward looked unhappy. / Gordon came clanking past, hissing rudely. “Bless me!” said The Fat Controller. “What a noise!” (1926-1934) *

When Gordon and Henry heard about the accident, they laughed and boasted. “Fancy allowing cows to break his train! They wouldn’t dare do that to us. We’d show them!” they boasted. (1952) 

“The Fat Controller would never approve,” said Gordon loftily. “Branch Lines are vulgar.” (1965) 

Edward scolded the twins severely, but told Gordon it served him right. Gordon was furious. / A few days later, some Enthusiasts came. On their last afternoon they went to the China Clay Works. / Edward found it hard to start the heavy train… / “Just pathetic,” grunted Gordon. “He should give up and be Preserved before it’s too late.” (1965) ** 

I am sportingly not even saddling Gordon with the blame for the line "Driver won't choose you again. He wants strong engines like us." (In TTRE, this is said by the collective of big engines – although the illustrations do clearly point a finger at Gordon. Still, like I said, I'm going to be sporting. The pictures aren't canon.) Also note that in RWS Gordon doesn't say "No use at all" when he learns Edward has come to push his train; that whole bit of dialogue was something Britt and David cooked up. 

Even being as generous as possible, this still leaves us with… seven. Seven instances of Gordon taking a shot at Edward. 

That’s actually quite a… lot? 

I mean, not necessarily if we were racking up all the complaints, ranging from major to miniscule, that you’d have about someone you’d lived and worked with for over 40 years, lol. 

But we shouldn’t actually be expecting a complete inventory at all. RWS books are minimalist on detail. There's just so much less in 'em than the sprawling TVS with its 24 full series, lol. And let’s focus here on just the Wilbert canon, since that’s where all these examples of Gordon being rude to Edward come from. Seven times, in 26 books. For context, the number of times Thomas teases Gordon in this same corpus is… three. Three times. Thomas cheeking Gordon. Also kind of a fundamental dynamic. THRICE! 

Passengers saying What a Bad Railway It Was… two. Number of times Thomas and Percy squabble… three. Number of accidents that Percy gets into (and this includes the piddling stuff, like crashing into that wagon of flour that was left on the rails)… five. Reflect on that for a moment: Gordon is a dick to Edward in canon more often than Percy's had an accident. That's crazy. Indeed, there are plenty of RWS characters who are canonically friends or who shed together who don't even get to have seven shared moments. It's actually kind of a fun game, to try to think of any two of them who, like Gordon and Edward, have seven of a specific kind of interaction. Have at it! There has to be something I've missed. 

But I hope it's clear, that by the standards of these books this character dynamic is hit A LOT. You know me, I'm going to go on to contextualize a lot of these seven examples, and I'm going to play Gordon defense attorney to a certain degree, and plead mitigation. But I can't possibly explain away the sheer size of this pile of evidence. This specific dynamic is not meant to be overlooked. It's not meant to be minimized.

This is a big inescapable part of what their relationship is. 

The Doylist Reason

Now, in fairness, the meta reason this dynamic is so pervasive and repeated is that it's The Template. 

“Big braggadocious engine needs help from humble plucky little engine” was trite before The Three Railway Engines was published. This is not a slam; I’m not gonna get on another parent’s case about the story they improvised for their kid because “it relies on cliches.” But it’s just a fact: Edward and Gordon, to begin with, are simply THE foundational cliche of “anthropomorphic train” media. 

One of the reasons the RWS (and the whole subsequent TTTE juggernaut) is so successful is because it features so many creative variations on this template. Most of the relationships are just "okay so one of them is the Gordon, and one of them is the Edward, but this time there's a twist!" (This is how you get Thomas as the big breakout character – because the Thomas and Gordon variation is a lot less cliched, and a lot more fun.)

Just an observation. 

Now, Awdry did keep writing the OGs again and again and again, for a couple'a decades, and he developed them both quite a bit. So by the end of his run we do have a very elaborate Jenga tower built on this template. Loads of fun* to be had yet. So let's jump right back into analyzing this shit in-universe. 

* For certain definitions of fun 😈

Rent. Free.

The first thing I wanted you to note about Gordon’s Edward-directed crimes was that there were a lot of them. 

The second thing I want you to note is that… these are, perhaps, not all so very criminal? 

Some of it is – the group harassment about the strikebreaking and the “Just pathetic!” bit (more on both of those later). But a lot of the rest of it strikes me as more the results of being blunt or un-self-aware or even just plain boisterous than actively choosing to bully anyone. In particular, the early stuff, the Three Railway Engines stuff on which the whole foundation of their relationship is laid… 

"You watch me this afternoon, little Edward," he boasted, "as I rush through with the Express; that will be a splendid sight for you." (1923) 

Condescending. Tone-deaf. Belittling (literally). But… not actually spiteful?

“I’ve done it! I’ve done it! I’ve done it!” he said proudly, and forgot all about Edward pushing behind. He didn’t wait to say “Thank you”... (1923) 

That's not cool, but it's also not… that bad. 

At the point where The Three Railway Engines ends with the claim "all three engines are now great friends," it's like, sure. You can see that. Indeed you can see it much more easily for Gordon and Edward than you could with Gordon and Henry – Gordon's behavior toward the latter (though in a similar vein of "kick a fellow when he's down") was much more extreme, and Henry's behavior was so bizarre that you hardly know what to expect from him next. (What you don't expect is that those two will be joined at the hip for the next thirty years.) By contrast the Edward and Gordon relationship should be kinda easy, the former's really nice so the latter just has to remember some basic manners and they should be okay. Right? 

But that's not how it goes. Partly of course because Gordon has much more out-of-pocket shit in him than he ever displayed in TTRE. But I'm going to set aside some of the more severe tests that Gordon makes of these friendships till later – stuff like punishing Edward for breaking his tender engine strike and "Just pathetic!" (not to mention all the needling of Henry around the Flying Kipper accident). Setting that aside, Gordon's original sin is simply being a dumb, self-centered, out-of-touch rich jock. Yes, he’s consistently “rude,” but usually more in an ignorant, superior, “I cannot be bothered to try not/learn how to prevent myself giving offense” sort of way than an aggressive, malicious “hurting you for fun and profit” sort of way. In contrast to, say, James. Whose behavior really is consistently mean. And who is hurtful on purpose, because he’s having a bad day and tearing someone else down is how he copes. James insults; Gordon (except in those couple of asterisked cases that we’re tabling for later discussion) merely boasts. And it’s really quite interesting to me how Edward seems to have much less problem with the former than with the latter! 

Because he does have a problem with it. We know, because for most of this long list of incidents the source must be… him. 

This is a series where canonically the Author is a human “friend of the railway,” collecting and publishing these stories in order to publicize the railway to the world. This is something that really can’t be forgotten when reading these (indeed, thanks to the “Author’s Note” each time, the books will not let you forget it). The narrator is canonically a figure in this universe, and is not omniscient. 

And, when it comes to the Edward/Gordon dynamic, the Author’s point of view is consistently collapsing into Edward’s point of view. 

Certain times when the narrator editorializes about details, we can be pretty sure, are lifted straight from Edward’s take on the moment (and, if not Edward’s, then The Fat Controller’s, which to be frank is also roughly aligned): 

Edward puffed and pulled, and pulled and puffed, but he couldn’t move the heavy coaches. / “I told you so,” said Gordon rudely. (1923) 

That Gordon said that, I don’t doubt. That the adverb is necessary, or even correct? That’s… that’s interpretative. I totally understand why Edward and TFC, respectively, took it that way, but I’m not 100% convinced it was meant that way, nor that everyone else on scene regarded it as much more than Gordon glumly colour-commentating the group effort to recover from his breakdown. Is he being ‘rude’? Or is he merely too blunt for North Western sensibilities?

Anyway, even if ‘rude’ is the correct interpretation, it is again worth noting that it’s certainly not part of the narrative as Gordon would have been telling the story in the 1940s. (The 1940s! It's over twenty years later! And Edward is getting his side of the thing in fuckin' print… Big win, that.)

So, if we agree that Edward is the source the Author primarily relies on for these 2+4 scenes, what does this show us? Well, for one, I'd say it shows us that Edward may ‘forgive’ all this but he is certainly not forgetting one bit of it. Indeed the narrative’s repeated return to this dynamic almost certainly mirrors how much room Gordon’s superior attitude occupies in Edward’s headspace.

Which is kinda wild. There's no evidence Edward is petty by nature, if anything there's a lot that suggests the opposite. Gordon getting this far under his paint is… something of an achievement. 

But we can see how he managed: 

Even discounting the illustration. Even if Gordon isn’t the speaker. He was one of Them. The other big engines who tormented Edward may have been worse, were probably worse, but they are gone and Gorson remains, an eternal reminder of 1922-3. Of the primordial period when Gordon has the power, Edward doesn't. Gordon is on top of their world; Edward is left alone in a shed, cut off from all his former friends and supporters, afraid for his life, roundly denigrated by the engines he lives with, and quite possibly lost his previous job directly in favor of Gordon. Who, at best, is careless and oblivious. Who, at worst, is belittling and rude. 

Ouch. 

Gordon's arrival is still bound up, probably even the direct cause, of one of the most miserable and humiliating year of Edward's life. And – maliciously or not – everything about how Gordon conducts himself only serves to keep tearing again at that wound.  

Ouch. 

If Edward were to write off Gordin as a potential friend till the end of time, well, you know, it would be valid. Not very "wise" or anything, but it’d be understandable.

To be clear, I don't think this is what happens. I'm not going to argue that the famous line from the end of TTRE is a lie, some sort of diplomatic fiction. No, Gordon and Edward quickly make a go at genuine friendship. Indeed, throughout all this mess, even as I analyze it in excruciating detail… there's something kind of touching and weirdly wholesome about the way that they both try so hard to make it work despite the headwinds against them. Edward (and Gordon, for that matter) make sincere efforts to overcome the wounds they have inflicted on each other's egos. Kudos, lads. 

However, I also don't agree with a vast assumption on the part of many fans that Edward solves the issue by simply… rising above. Puts aside his own ego, takes a pacifist approach to all the jockeying for position, acts purely as mentor, just sits on the moral high ground and philosophically accepts everything as it is. 

This is canonically nonsense. Yes, Edward was passive in his first-ever story – he was at the end of the line; he needed someone to give him a damn break before he even had options – he doesn't actually remain passive after that, though. Indirect (he’s allergic to conflict), but not passive. We see very clearly that Edward may be judging status by a bit of a different yardstick than Gordon et. al., he doesn’t think picking up the slack on secondary or support jobs is a source of shame and his relative physical weakness drives him to find different ways to distinguish himself, but, like, when it comes to points-scoring, he’s still very much in the game. Of course his first priority is just to be wanted and useful at all, but that is not the end of it. Edward is competitive, with a proper amount of pride (“Good! Don’t let them beat you”) and he has normal engine-y desires and ambitions (“Look at me!”). ‘Course, in his case they don’t drive him to make a straight-up nuisance of himself. But, still. It matters to him that he gets to be the Smartest Engine in the Shed. It matters to him that he has nice blue wheels. It matters to him that he’s important, it matters to him that he’s respected, and he’s quite as pleased to get important jobs as any other engine (even if he doesn’t begrudge an engine who gets a jammier job than him). When canon kicks off no driver at Vicarstown has laid a claim on Edward, Topham Hatt has just succeeded some previous General Manager and shows no sign of knowing or remembering that Edward exists, and Edward has nothing – no job and no allies. It is not an accident that all three of those things change. It’s not even merely a natural karmic reward for being a nice, humble engine with a winsome smile. Edward set out to earn recognition. His main method (be helpful and reliable to others) is admirable, but it is also a means to a goal (be recognized as important and ensure he's never again stuck in the sheds). And he succeeds wildly. There’s luck there, sure - there always is, with success - but he didn’t have a lot of natural advantage at his tender, either. What I’m saying is that he’s not some innocent unworldly soul who aww-shucks’d his way into it. He meant for this to happen. He played smart and he worked hard for it – but, like, he had to know what it was he wanted. 

Am I belaboring this point? Maybe. But I feel like so many people only see Edward as nothing more than a dutiful, responsible, maybe even stuffy oldster with at most an occasional twinkle of fun in his eye and, hell, often that’s not even a big problem (though I think it sells short later characters who arrive and who are ACTUALLY more unambitious and above-it-all than Edward - for instance, I think Donald and Douglas are actually our first tender engines who show up and legitimately just never once give a shit about their status, at least not beyond the status of ‘alive’ vs. ‘dead’). But I think it IS a problem, that it does lead you wrong, when you bring that assumption to bear on Edward’s relationship with Gordon. Edward never "mentors" Gordon. It’s a fundamentally competitive relationship. Oh, maybe it shouldn’t be! It shouldn’t be, because Edward is not jealous by nature and so if Gordon were halfway chill himself it never would have been. And it shouldn’t be, because Gordon so easily outclasses Edward that there should be no reason for Gordon to ever get jealous, either. But they both manage, somehow. Edward’s not just benignly pulling a quarter out of Gordon’s ear every so often, to gently remind him that Gordon doesn’t know everything yet. He might have settled into this role, if Gordon hadn’t scared the existential shit out of him throughout the ‘20s, but Gordon did and so Edward didn’t. Edward’s in it to win it, babe! He accepts that his express days are over, but he’s not willing to be told he never again gets a cut of the cake, either – and, when Gordon snubs him, Edward is not just rising above the fray and letting it go. They’re always playing tug-of-war. 

To reiterate: I don't think Edward is faking friendship after Gordon's failed express. He's really working on it – and he might have had more success letting go of the previous wounds Gordon inflicted on his ego – if only Gordon had stopped that sort of shit, going forward! 

But that's asking too much. It's still the 1920s, baby; Gordon's gonna Gordon; so what's a little tender engine to do? 

[supernova2205]

The Long Game

Final chapter

Summary: A dangerous mission turns chaotic when you and Price are kidnapped by a familiar foe. Separated from the team, survival depends on trust and quick thinking. As the fight unfolds, sacrifices are made, bonds are tested, and decisions lead to life-altering consequences—some that leave shadows no one can escape.

Warnings: some violence and light angst

The sound of gunfire echoed through the compound as chaos erupted. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz moved like shadows, their movements precise and deadly. Each corner they turned revealed more of Shepherd’s forces, and each enemy they took down brought them closer to you and Price.

Inside the compound, you sat slumped against the wall, every muscle in your body aching. The cold metal of your bindings bit into your skin, but you refused to let the pain consume you. Price was beside you, battered but unbroken, his steely resolve a lifeline in the suffocating darkness.

“You still with me?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, though every movement sent a jolt of pain through your skull. “Still here.”

Price’s jaw tightened. “We’re getting out of this.”

Before you could respond, the door burst open, and two armed guards entered. They hauled you and Price to your feet, dragging you into a larger room where Shepherd waited.

“Ah, my guests of honor,” Shepherd said, his tone dripping with mockery. “I was beginning to think you’d fallen asleep.”

Price glared at him, his hatred palpable. “What do you want, Shepherd?”

Shepherd smirked, circling the room. “Revenge, for starters. You and your team have been a thorn in my side for far too long. It’s time to cut you out for good.”

You held Shepherd’s gaze, refusing to show fear. “You talk a big game for someone who can’t fight his own battles.”

Shepherd’s smirk twisted into a scowl. Without warning, he struck you across the face, the impact leaving you dazed. Price surged against his restraints, fury burning in his eyes.

“You lay another hand on her, and I’ll—”

“You’ll what, John?” Shepherd interrupted, laughing. “You’re as helpless as she is.”

The room fell silent as Shepherd’s radio crackled to life. “Sir, we’ve got intruders. Three of them. Closing in fast.”

Shepherd’s smile faded, and he turned to his men. “Take them to the holding cells. I’ll deal with this myself.”

As the guards dragged you and Price away, you exchanged a glance. This was your chance—if the team was here, they wouldn’t stop until they found you.

Ghost led the team through the labyrinthine structure, his sharp instincts guiding them closer to their target. The tension was suffocating, every corner they turned bringing the possibility of an ambush.

“Anything on comms?” Gaz whispered.

“Nothing. Heavy jamming,” Soap replied, his voice low.

“We keep moving,” Ghost said, his tone calm but cold. His mind raced with images of you and Price, and the possibility that they might already be too late clawed at the edges of his thoughts.

“Ghost,” Soap muttered, glancing at him. “We’ll find them.”

Ghost didn’t reply, his focus razor-sharp as they advanced deeper into the compound.

The sound of footsteps ahead made them freeze. A group of guards passed by, dragging two figures behind them—figures that were unmistakably you and Price.

“There,” Ghost hissed, his heart pounding.

They struck fast, taking out the guards before they could react. You and Price hit the ground as your captors fell, and Ghost was by your side in an instant. His gloved hands gently turned your face to check for injuries, his eyes narrowing at the fresh bruise on your cheek.

“Can you move?” he asked, his voice quiet but urgent.

“Yeah,” you said, though your legs wobbled as he helped you up.

Price groaned, holding his side as Soap supported him. “Took you long enough.”

“Nice to see you too, Captain,” Soap quipped, though his relief was evident.

“We need to move,” Gaz said. “This place is about to light up.”

The team fought their way through the compound, the air thick with smoke and the deafening roar of gunfire. You stuck close to Price, your instincts screaming to protect him even as your own strength waned.

As they neared the extraction point, a sniper’s shot rang out, aimed squarely at Price. Without thinking, you threw yourself into his path, the bullet striking you instead.

“[Name]!” Price’s voice was raw with panic as he caught you, lowering you to the ground.

You gasped, pain searing through your body as blood pooled beneath you. “Guess I owed you one,” you managed to choke out, your voice faint.

“Stay with me,” Price demanded, his tone trembling. “That’s an order.”

The world blurred around you, his voice the last thing you heard before everything went dark.

Three months passed in a haze. In your coma, you were haunted by fragmented nightmares—memories of the mission mingling with deeper, more personal fears. The weight of your choices, the lives you’d taken, and the pain you’d endured all pressed down on you, suffocating and unrelenting.

When you finally woke, the first thing you saw was Ghost sitting beside your hospital bed. His mask was pushed up just enough to reveal his jawline, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low but tinged with relief.

You nodded weakly, your throat dry. “How long?”

“Three months,” he replied, his eyes scanning your face as if to ensure you were really there.

You glanced around, noting the lack of machines. “Price?”

“He’s fine,” Ghost said. “Everyone made it out. Thanks to you.”

You closed your eyes, the weight of his words sinking in.

As you recovered, the weight of your experiences became impossible to ignore. The military had been your life, but it had also taken so much from you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you told Ghost one evening, your voice trembling. “I need to leave.”

He didn’t argue, though you could see the tension in his posture. “What will you do?”

You smiled faintly. “Teach, maybe. It’s what I always wanted before… all this.”

“You’d make a good one,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

In the weeks that followed, you grew closer to Ghost in ways that surprised you. His quiet support, his understanding—it became your anchor. When you finally left the military, he was the one who helped you pack your things.

“Sure you don’t want to stick around?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes serious.

“I’m sure,” you said. “But… I’ll keep in touch.”

He nodded, his hand brushing against yours as he handed you your bag. “You’d better.”

As you walked away, you felt the weight of the past lifting, replaced by the hope of a future you’d almost forgotten was possible.

5 years later….

Five years had passed since you left the military, and life had settled into a rhythm you never thought you’d have. The soft hum of children’s laughter filled your cozy home as you stood in the living room, arranging balloons and streamers for the party later that evening. Your little boy, only three years old, raced past you with an infectious giggle, his tiny hands clutching a toy truck.

“Slow down, champ,” you called after him, a smile tugging at your lips.

He looked back with a cheeky grin but kept running, his boundless energy filling the room. The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted in from the kitchen, and you took a deep breath, savoring the peace you’d worked so hard to build.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made you glance out the window. Moments later, the door opened, and Simon—Ghost—stepped inside, balancing a large cake box in one hand and a few wrapped presents in the other.

“I’ve got the cake,” he announced, setting it down on the counter before walking over to you.

“Perfect timing,” you said, wiping your hands on your jeans.

He leaned in and kissed you, his hands finding your waist. “Everything looks great. Party planner of the year.”

You laughed softly. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Your son ran over, tugging at Simon’s pant leg. “Daddy! Look at my truck!”

Simon crouched down, inspecting the toy with mock seriousness. “That’s a fine piece of machinery. Reckon it’ll win every race.”

The boy beamed, proud of the attention, before dashing off again. Simon stood, watching him with a softness in his eyes that always made your heart ache in the best way.

As the day went on, the house filled with friends and family. Soap, Gaz, and Price arrived together, immediately diving into the snacks and joking around as if no time had passed since your missions together. The 141 boys quickly became the life of the party, with Soap playing an exaggerated game of hide-and-seek with the kids and Gaz sneaking extra cupcakes to your nieces and nephews.

Price, however, seemed quieter than usual. You found him on the back porch later, nursing a glass of whiskey and looking out over the yard where the others played with the children.

“Hey, Captain,” you said, stepping outside and shutting the door behind you.

He turned, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You don’t have to call me that anymore, you know.”

“Force of habit,” you said, settling into the chair beside him.

For a while, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the distant laughter and chatter from the yard filling the space between you. Finally, Price spoke.

“You’ve built something good here,” he said, his voice low. “A life like this… it suits you.”

You glanced at him, his profile illuminated by the warm glow of the setting sun. “Thanks, John. It wasn’t easy, but… it’s worth it.”

He nodded, his gaze distant. “I’m happy for you. Truly.”

There was something in his tone that made your chest tighten. “You don’t sound happy.”

He looked at you then, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotion you couldn’t quite read. There was a sadness in his expression, something fleeting but real. His lips parted as if to say something more, but he seemed to reconsider, swallowing the words before they left his mouth.

“I’ve always wanted this for you,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “A life away from all the… violence, the chaos. You deserve peace.”

You nodded, your throat tightening. “I know, John. I know you wanted that too. But it’s different now. I’m not the same person I was back then.” You paused, your voice softening. “And neither are you.”

Price’s gaze softened, but the weight of everything he had been through lingered in his eyes. You could see the unspoken words, the years of shared experience that neither of you could fully escape. The bond that had been forged on battlefields, in darkness, was still there. But life had carried you both in different directions.

“I’ve had my share of peace too,” you said, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. “It’s strange… how things change.”

Price didn’t respond right away. Instead, he took a slow sip of his whiskey, his eyes returning to the yard where the rest of the team was still laughing and playing with your son. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting everything in a golden light that seemed to make the world feel still, as if it had all stopped for just a moment.

“You ever wonder what could’ve been?” Price asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, the question catching you off guard. “What do you mean?”

His eyes flickered back to you. “Between us,” he said, his words heavy with a meaning that neither of you had ever fully confronted. “If things had gone differently… maybe I could’ve been the one here with you, instead of him.”

You felt the ache of unspoken regrets twist inside you, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, filled with all the things that had never been said. But you also knew that what was done was done. The past was behind you, and the future—whatever it held—was what mattered now.

“You made the choices you had to,” you said softly. “And so did I.”

Price gave a small, rueful smile, but there was no bitterness in it. Just an acceptance that had taken years to reach. He put down his glass and leaned back in his chair, staring out at the horizon.

“I just want you to know… I’m happy for you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve found something good. You’ve earned it.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your heart heavy but full. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, each of you lost in your thoughts. Then, after a long pause, Price stood up, giving you one last look. “I’ll leave you to it. I think it’s time for me to make myself scarce.”

You nodded, watching him walk back inside, the door swinging shut behind him. Your heart still ached, but you had come to terms with it. You knew that the path you had chosen was the right one for you, even if it had meant leaving behind the life you once shared with the team.

As you stood there for a moment longer, you heard the laughter of your son and the sounds of the others inside, and you felt a deep sense of peace. Despite everything, despite the pain and the losses, you had built something beautiful. Something worth protecting.

You walked back inside, feeling the warmth of your family surrounding you. Ghost was still playing with your son, his face soft with affection as he helped him build a tower with blocks. Soap and Gaz were deep in conversation, swapping stories with your nieces and nephews, and everyone seemed to be at ease, happy in the moment.

And though your heart still carried the weight of the past, you knew that what you had now was worth every sacrifice. You were finally where you were meant to be.

Authors note: omg guys I love this ending I think this is like the best chapter I’ve written in truly happy with it and I hope you guys are too also does anyone know how to make a master list I’m so bad at using tumblr 😭😭😭

[softmagenta]

android models #4

Having achieved the basic result, androids began to think about becoming more unusual, more stylish. Real people, indeed - they're just like us. There are too many non-standard models, especially their hybrids and their altered versions. (Clipping from a fashion magazine; article on unique “fashionable” android models that have a narrower focus) ────────────────────────────────

Molis Lux

One of the most unusual models - I can admit it! The gel used mainly to fill the joints has become this model's “skin”. Although the gel here is just an outer shell, it covers the entire body so abundantly that the internal skeleton and mechanisms are not visible from the outside at all.

Readers ask, “Why don't they have mouths?”. This is a very interesting story! A great many custom models were put into production during the “teenage android fashion rebellion” (ha-ha, I like that unofficial name so much). Unconventionality, flamboyance, brashness and unbelievable solutions! The release of many non-standard models was accompanied by some sort of pathos slogan that carried a certain rebellious meaning. The slogan of this model is “I don't need a mouth to tell about myself”. Translated into calm language, it means something like “I don't even need to talk about myself so you could all know what I'm like.” It's ridiculous, considering they can speak anyway, but the symbolism is really interesting.

The gel color usually matches the iris color of the eyes, and the face and hair are usually a different color because they are not created from the gel. These models are basically a custom created body, not something from mass produced androids, so it's up to the customer to choose the color palette. But at the very beginning of this model's release, a few test androids were created (a few hundred, I think. As with all other models), and in that case the colors were randomized by the software.

Under certain conditions, the gel can go into a soft state where the android themselves (while wearing special gloves!) or someone else can mold the body into whatever they want. Many ML models create clothes for themselves in this way by simply molding them out of their body, and the lack of clothes (molded or real) would not mean that the android is naked. Very handy! The model itself is really one of the most comfortable, I think. (And the mouth can always be made at official accessories and details ComCenter showrooms, don't worry!!!) The part below the ankle and the foot is made of a harder gel, which is a substitute for shoes. It's a bit inconvenient because although such an android can walk around outside without real shoes, it still has to wash their feet every time after going indoors, so many people just wear real shoes or special “socks”. (Editor's note: so that's how they do it… by molding the certain parts? HAHA it's very cool) (Writer's note: I hate you) ────────────────────────────────

Mea Elections

One of the most modern custom models out there! ME (very symbolic name in abbreviation, by the way) is mostly used by cosplayers either social workers who work with children, or just those who see themselves in this style.

Mobility is not affected at all, despite the unusual limbs and body proportions. The main problem with this model is that all clothes have to be sewn to order or bought in specialized stores for ME models, but there are so many variations of ME that even there you can't always find something for yourself. ────────────────────────────────

Spatium Fuga

One of the oldest representatives of non-standard models! This is the very case when the representatives of the crowd, who were striving for humanoidness, decided to return to their roots and radically strengthen their “roboticism” in a more fantastic style!

This model is also mostly used by cosplayers, but less often, because the model has quite specific details. But among fashion figures, there are a lot of SF representatives! This unusual and mesmerizing look attracts the eye.

The SF line and its hybrids are so diverse that you are unlikely to meet two identical androids of this model. The design is very futuristic and everything is limited only by your imagination! However, remember that it is very expensive, and the unusual limb connectors may tear your clothes. Just a friendly reminder.

[perseus-oh-my-perseus]

Uh... contrary to what popular belief would be, I typically go for a fancier look when I'm running late. Like, I'll originally plan for something like sweatpants and a I-truly-do-not-care shirt, and I'll have that stuff on, but when I'm running late, I just tend to. Change, ya know? I'll throw on some jeans, some jewelry, my boots, and I'll try to fluff up my shirt. I'll just be running out while putting on my makeup when I originally woke up planning to deadpan-glare my way through the day.

I love rain! No matter how inconveniencing, it always manages to lighten my mood because it reminds me to throw expectations out the window and say 'fuck it' and move on with a pep in my step. As much as I need sun, I also like my rain because it gives my light-sensitive eyes a break. It reminds me that I am alive just like everyone else I see and that the reality I see before me is real; and half the time I don't even realize that I'm starting to feel like a passenger in my own life. It's my own little break, it's my self-indulgence, it's my laughing in others' faces because they're annoyed at the rain when I've never felt so alive.

I'd say my laugh is different with a shitty joke. It's more of a kneel-over barking laughter that makes me start crying and my stomach her kind of laughter that takes me by surprise and leaves me with my eyes a little brighter, my smile a little more mischievous as we share that little moment of joy and humanity that we know will leave but we are both okay with it because it will come again. It's also got this sort of delay when I'm in the moment and enjoying myself where it'd take me a little bit to register it happening (delayed audio processing my beloved <3 /lh /s), and then the joke itself, and then I'll laugh and it'd be a little embarrassing that such a joke took so long--especially when I'm the only one to react to it--but everything washes over eventually, so it'll be alright.

I'd duck and scream. Honestly and genuinely, on Jupiter, that will be my reaction. I hate insects and I hate the unknown, so I will react accordingly because I don't know what it is or if that bee will sting me. And yes, this is a genuine, heart-gripping fear :(. I don't mind existing and I even respect how and why they Work, but I genuinely, truly and utterly, hate them flying near me because of the unknowns :(. I could give you a whole psycho-analysis about it, tbh, but that's not the conversation of today :).

I have two moods when delving deep into a good fanfic or book--either hilarious, I-forget-that-I'm-being-perceived faces (usually when I'm in public or in an otherwise populated/I Need To Be Aware Enough Of Reality To Remember I And Said Reality Exists space), or a truly and utterly, devoid of any expression or mental existence, deadpan/resting bitchface that leaves people concerned for my well-being and me totally and utterly unaware of my surroundings bc I'm just That Deep Within The Book. Both are equally likely to happen no matter the book or my involvement within it, it is just a product of being so very easily lost into hyperfocus when occupied with something but also unable to be bored/not doing anything. So... there we go! This happens with pretty much anything--me acting out so I remember my existence and Presence Within Reality, or just going completely dead to the world out of hyperfocus and/or being mentally drained (and the amount of hours I've lost after functions/long days- wow-)

Another thing I'd like to say, since we're already sorta on the topic of it, is that I make the cutest and most innocent facial expressions when my name is called/I'm being brought out of a focus/my attention is being shifted. One of my teachers literally Stops what she is doing when calling roll/being distracted by the monotonous of things when she calls my name because my nose is usually deep into a book/something I'm doing that I literally pop my head up, frown, and glance around to figure out where I am, before looking up and smiling to say that I'm here and then immediately burying my nose back into whatever I was doing. She. Stops. to do this with me :)). Each & every day I have her class :)). This happens in a lot of things too! It's just that look of genuine confusion about Everything like after a good and deep nap that leaves you wondering what day it is and what the concept of time is :)). I think about this interaction constantly :))

As for the other things? I've never had coffee a day in my life and I don't plan on it for a long time. I hate soda. I'm my own worst asshole and I will do things against the best interest of myself--for the better or the worse. I talk and genuinely feel as though I am not doing enough even though I am gone for nearly 18 hours a day on the regular. I am genuinely injured and still will go through that process and the back and forths of wondering if it's worth enough to take a break and also feeling like I've already taken too many breaks. I will worry needlessly over projects and grades despite having numerous past experiences telling me I'll do well because I'm worried that, as soon as I let my guard down, that will be it. I actively and vocally bargain my own fate almost 90% of the time because I, again, am my own worst asshole and, again, I worry that I'll drop the ball with my own cockiness on something I need. If left waiting/in an event where I'm merely watching instead of doing or I need to focus on something/kill time so I don't become a nervous wreck, I will start conducting a fake band with absolutely no rhythm than my own anxiety. I will also start tap-dancing with my boots (I have never tap-danced or seen tap-dancing a day in my life), and I have a much worse lung capacity than someone my age and ✨skill level✨ should have. But I am great at lessening anxiety around me, listening to people/talking through theirs, and joking around about my own stresses because I deserve it and it helps me too :)).

I also absolutely & utterly hate loud, unnecessary, and sudden noises--the second one especially when overstimulated!

Long distance relationships suck. I want to know so much more than what you text me.

I want to know what kind of outfit you pick when you're running terribly late. What's your first reaction to rain. If your laugh is different when it's caused by a shitty joke. How you react to a bee flying by. What expressions you have when reading a very good book...

All those things you find insignificant about yourself, I want to know them. I know there is so much to love about you that I will miss if I'm not close enough.

[crabsnpersimmons]

"Slow down, Sunshine. You're not falling behind and you are loved for more than what you do for others."

[girlboyburger]

hi i'm alive i'm just struggling my way to happiness & productivity

[scribz-ag24]

i checked the italian blind run that apparently is very popular in the IT community. and. was anyone.

so was anyone. was anyone going to tell me in this version dusknoir asks if his existence had value.

his line about saying with full sincerity that life is marvelous.

why didnt i hear of this until now i crave to know every little difference between translations so i can cry again and again over the same guy.

[inke-ri]

So I couldn't help but browse the THG tag bc those books own my whole heart. I actually check it now and again, and it's been interesting see how opinions have changed over the years, especially in regards to Gale and Peeta. Going through the evolution of them as just potential love interests to being far more complex than I could have expected has been a wild ride. Crazy how this reads different than from when I was a preteen.

That said, I wanted to give my unsolicited two cents on my boys, because though I have been enjoying the discussion on Peeta and Gale and what they mean to the story, I also feel like reducing them to Peeta = peace and Gale = war is far too simplistic... and oftentimes unfair to one or both of them.

See, I don't think Peeta and Gale are peace and war/destruction. They're compassion and indignation.

Peeta worries about the other tributes, or their families, or how to repay people like Rue and Thresh for what they did.

Gale is indignation at how the Capitol treats its citizens, it's anger at the injustice of inequality and brutality.

Both are needed in a story like THG. You can't have people like even Peeta not say something like "maybe we're wrong about keeping things quiet in the districts", you can't have him not drop the baby bomb, you can't start a revolution without Gale's indignation at the status quo. At deserving a better life but being denied it, at having your kids be mercilessly killed for literal sport.

However, if you start a rebellion and loose sight of your compassion, you end up no better than the people you're fighting against. Gale wasn't a bad person, imo. His heart was in the right place. He was flawed, yes, but so is everyone in this series. Gale, most importantly, lost sight of the line between fighting for the people he cared about and fighting against the people who hurt him.

Reducing Gale's indignation to just revenge and hatred ignores so much of what he stands for. Who hasn't seen laws passed that dehumanize people, who hasn't been angry and furious when someone is elected who fundamentally hates everything you are, who doesn't think some people need to pay for the atrocities they committed? There's a little bit of Gale in every single one of us - and it's important that it's there, because that's what gives us strength to challenge the status quo and make life better for the future generations.

But. You can't let it take over. You can't loose sight of your compassion or your empathy.

That's where Peeta comes in. Peeta is the voice in your head that worries about how many good lives will be lost when they give themselves up for this cause. Peeta is the worry about the people caught in the crossfire. Peeta is rebuilding when it's over and believing that the next generation will have a better life than your own. Peeta is being kind, even to people who may not deserve it.

And Gale... Gale looses sight of his compassion, and he doesn't realize it until it smacks him in the face when the bombs go off and Prim is gone and he's too far gone. Meanwhile, Peeta advocates for the end of the war even though it means the status quo remains - and regardless of what he believes himself, I don't think Suzanne chose him to say those lines by chance. It means both mindsets have their flaws: too kind and things that shouldn't remain will never be challenged and changed, too angry and you may loose sight of what you're fighting for.

And that's just how Suzanne uses her characters, both of them, all of them. Just look at who is with Katniss depending on the situation:

- Katniss chooses to "rebel" after Gale is brutally whipped. She kisses him.

- Katniss realizes that in order for D12 to rebel, everyone would need to be in on it, and she realizes most of them are not like her, that they're scared and she understands, emphasises with them. Peeta walks by her side.

- Katniss finally does it though, shoots the arrow at the force field, and Peeta is taken from her, it's now Gale by her side.

(You can't start a rebellion without indignation, and sometimes you HAVE to do it or things will never change, regardless of the inevitable pain that will come along.)

- Katniss is righteously angry at the Capitol bombing a hospital full of innocents to make a point. Gale remains there.

- Coin twists people's compassion into an army to fight for her own personal gain. Peeta is hijacked and looses his sense of self.

- Katniss and Gale go to District 2 and even though she tries to be like Peeta, she's still shot- reinforcing Gale's views, the person who was with her during that sequence.

- Katniss is angry at Snow, Katniss goes to the Capitol to kill him. Gale is there.

- Katniss gets in way over her head and realizes she is responsible for the death of most of her squad. She shares the lamb stew with Peeta, and later cleans his wounds.

- Finnick dies and she's at her lowest up until that point and all she wants to do is give up and give in to the anger. She kisses Peeta and begs him to stay with her.

... Claiming that Gale is destruction ignores the fact that he's with Katniss through her own moments of strength. Her desire to change things, to fight back, is as important as her compassion. Mockingjay just brutally shows you what war does to your indignation, to your compassion. How easy it is to cross a line between righteous anger and revenge, or how your sense of empathy and compassion can be manipulated into something monstrous by others, or by all the terrible, brutal, painful things you see.

How easy it is to loose yourself- and that goes for both of them.

Peeta and Gale aren't static characters, they go from representations of sentiments regarding an injust government to what happens to those feelings when an extreme situation such as war breaks out. All of that, by the way, while dealing with this duality themselves, because they are still characters who think and feel and struggle and have flaws of their own- and while I love what they stand for, I've seen too many comments that pin everything into what they mean, that they forget that Peeta and Gale are still people, they aren't perfect metaphors. They're human.

Ultimately, Katniss doesn't really choose peace. She wants peace, yes. But what she chooses is compassion. empathy. hope. There's a time and place for anger at injustice. There's a time when fighting back is the right thing to do. There are even times when you wanna give in to your despair and lash out. But if you want peace, then you have to choose Peeta, because Peeta represents what you need to focus on to achieve that peace. You have to let go of the anger or you won't ever rest. So Gale leaves, and does not come back... And yet, Katniss still has her moments of indignation, of making a stand, even as he goes - she still casts her vote at that meeting, she still shoots Coin. Katniss does not abandon that part of who she is. It's just not her main drive anymore.

So then she goes on to make the choice, every single day, to be compassionate to others. To have hope. To rebuild. Of course she chooses Peeta.

... Idk, man. These boys are so much more than what I see them so often reduced to. They're in all of us. There will be times to stand and fight, and times to show mercy and be kind. We just need to find that balance, as Katniss eventually did.

[hplonesomeart]

Hey!! So turns out a video I made between a certain “well beloved but highly sensitive/emotionally reactive T.V” and an “orange haired inkling-turned-human” has managed to sweep my YouTube channel and accumulate 100k VIEWS!! THAT’S A LOT OF PEOPLE ACTUALLY?? My most widely viewed video EVER to exist in this moment in time?? AAAAA?? Not even mentioning the various comments and staggering increase in subs! It’s so much more then what I expected or even prepared for—might even be the most impactful thing to happen for me this year <3

…aside from graduating high school + the social connections I’ve been fortunate to make lol

BUT THE POINT IS I’d been closely monitoring the YouTube growth through the entirety of October. It’s make me smile like a dork, gawk in astonishment, dance frantically in my room from the energy boosts, and grow courage to stop being so selective/self-conscious with what I wish to share with the world! It’s kept my ambitions going!

I needed to find some way to celebrate the occasion and express my thanks—because I can’t NOT acknowledge this milestone jksjskp. Typically I try to avoid getting tunnel visioned focusing on the metrics/numbers. Mr. Puzzles had already demonstrated how much those things can mess with the minds of creatives. Caring too much about chasing views or placing your artistic value in attention seeking gets damaging. But at same time…it’s hard to deny the sense of pride the 100k achievement has filled me with. I understand that reaching 100k views doesn’t immediately make me any “better” or “worse” then I was before. I’m still just me! It only helps me feel seen by others—and that’s all I really needed. To hear some nice words & receive reminders that my ideas are cared about. So thank you SMG4 fandom for that, seriously thank you.

Please accept this Mr. Puzzle drawing as a way of sharing the happiness around. He’s so entertaining. Love him for simply existing. So glad we can all collectively be super attached to him (and the rest of the SMG4 cast of course). Can’t wait to see more incredible artworks from the fandom :)

Just incase anyone is confused by my vague description over which “animated video” I’m referring to here—hopefully this photo will help clarify lol. It’s this one!! Sorry about not outright stating the title at the start, I got carried away with writing!!

I’ve been in an odd place mentally when thinking about it. Wondering to myself if any of the attention is deserved considering it’s not even fully colored and could be dismissed as “low effort” content (despite taking several days making it). It’s easy to get into a trap of comparing yourself to others and questioning how much of the videos success is based on your skills, sheer algorithm luck, or only because you used popular characters and catered to a specific fandom. And then judging yourself by looking at other peoples videos. I’ve seen several artists post higher quality works then my own but it somehow gets less views. So why did mine succeed when others (who should have gotten just as much attention if not more) didn’t? Sometimes you feel like you’ve unfairly robbed them of that chance to be seen. However I’ve realized that I can’t ever expect views to be consistent—and comparing is pointless. So why worry about it or feel inadequate? I mean it’s pretty common for funny cat videos to go viral, so who am I to question the system lol. “Popular” YouTube videos can range from a passion project which took 7+ artists…to a clip of Toad singing Chandelier or a nonsensical Vine sketch. Anything can happen when it’s the internet! And just-so-happened my video was chosen. I should stay glad about that and get rid of all the overanalyzing. So that’s what I’ve chosen to do :)

[rosenfey]

things that are hard to find: writing advice that isn't condescending.

[skunkes]

i have soooo much more i cld say abt him, and have explored more thru other doodles, but quick summary of talon's whole deal, which is subject to change still as he's only almost 2 yrs old as an oc

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy in silly sitting positions compilation

[pink-lemonadefairy]

[redrobinfr]

ooc:

Hey, mun here. I'm probably about to take another noticeable break from this account again due to personal anxieties regarding recent irl events. Not going to get overly specific here just cause that's not the vibe of this account, but for the most part, I'm about to cut out a majority of my social media use for my own mental health, due to the fact that algorithms primarily push bad news because that's what gets engagement.

I have zero plans to abandon this account, don't worry lol, just prioritizing myself atm

[heartbeatbookclub]

FINALLY