#i think the only major thing i have an inkling of is someone (i think house??) gets something terminal at some point??

[walterdecourceys]

honestly it is also really fun to be watching a show where i have basically no exposure to the fandom (besides posts from the beloved mutuals) and no major spoilers. i feel so free. anything could happen

[labyrinth-of-her-heart]

braaainnnn vomit because i am dying from growing pains, some ideas go to this one lady i saw on youtube shorts (ty queen) FEM READER, pink is reader thoughts wrote this at 3 in der morning forgive me

thinking about subtle sarcastic reader, especially to the type of man she'd encounter while working in the army. being a civilian and a woman many on base just looked over her, or looked too intensely at certain parts of her. but after months of working she's found her place, she's now respected by those who surround her. but what happens when some higher ups come and visit?

working closely with the 141 was no easy task. going from mundane paperwork to the flurry of movement from a mission was difficult for you to handle, let alone helping them. you'd grown closer to them though, no more bouts of shyness stopping you from being yourself. instead you'd grown in to steady workplace banter with all.

unfortunately today couldn't be one of those days as some ever so important higher ups were holding a meeting with the 141, and since you handle the majority of the paperwork you were so graciously invited to attend. you wished you had a little bit more time to prepare for this. these were important people, who wouldn't be nervous? apart from soap who appeared with a shit-eating grin at your office door, gifting you another surprise meeting. or gaz who could charm any conversation his way a bit too easily, with suave compliments and easy-going humour. don't forget ghost who doesn't even need to look engaged because of his mask, or be expected to speak due to his... unique personality. oh and the captain has been to countless of these meetings, so he can't empathise with you either.

but, one thing you could all agree on is that meetings were incredibly boring. for two reasons mostly. either the attendees were so dense it seemed they hadn't stepped on planet earth before, let alone a military base. or the subject matter was so bland you all wondered why there needed to be a meeting in the first place.

as your heels tapped hastily along the hallway you wondered which it would rather be. arriving barely on time with a tight clutch on haphazardly organised documents and a cup of coffee you opened the door, and had an inkling it wouldn't be any. you were met with two male voices. one high, clipped and plummy, the other harsh and american.

" -- that's what i expected from someone of her- oh hello! nice to finally meet you" the man at the head of the table said. an older, short and stout man with thin wire-rimmed glasses and a black tailored suit. a typical english man in an authoritative position. "ah, sorry i was late you'll have to excuse me. i thought to bring my extra notes, i hope i didn't make you wait long." you replied. "not at all, my colleague mr sullivan and i were discussing stories from our base". your gaze flicked over to what must be the source of the american voice. perfectly gold hair stuck down with copious amounts of gel, paired with lightly tanned skin and a too white smile didn't make it hard to guess. "civilians eh?" the taller man began "don't know what's up with the ones here, especially the woman we were just talki-"

"right" prices deep gravely voice cut over the grating one "we should start the meeting now we're all here". murmurs of agreement filled the room, and so did glances between the 141 that you didn't pick upon. however you did notice they were unusually quiet though you brushed it off, they were probably tired. "gosh where are my manners" the man at the head of the table exclaimed "my name is mr buckton and i'll be leading this meeting." briskly taking a few steps towards you he shook your hand roughly. being polite you attempted to make eye contact, yet his eyes were still looking straight ahead? lingering only on your chest for a moment he then made eye contact with you, a wide grin plastered on his face. "come, your seat is next to mine" he prompted, gesturing you to walk infront of him and take your seat. as you walked infront of him his eyes now travelled further south. a small grimace shared from gaz to soap went undetected by the three sitting at the top of the table. mr buckton at the head, you to his left and then the captain and ghost next to you. opposite was mr sullivan, with gaz then soap next to him. with you all seated the meeting began.

for once the meeting was actually worth being held. despite it not being anything too serious you did well, even with your nerves. you answered questions and expanded in the points of others. as you suggested plans of action mr buckton steadily kept his eyes on you, while mr sullivan constantly scribbled notes down. soon enough the meeting was a breeze. well for about ten minutes. across from you, mr sullivan was very inquisitive about anything you said. asking you to back it up or to show proof. not thinking much of it you obliged. it was a little odd but you knew your stuff and why not show off infront of higher ups? however the sentiment was not shared with the rest of the 141. who even asked for evidence about evidence? they understood wanting clarification on certain things, but it was growing incessant now. you were capable of your job and they knew that - that's why you were there. price especially helped you in the growing awkwardness; his job had never been so easy with you working underneath him. gaz and soap constantly gave eachother questioning glances, not wanting to explicitly speak up if their captain didn't. ghost was pissed he couldn't hide his eyes rolling as well as his scowl behind his balaclava. although they were growing increasingly annoyed the meeting continued, with more ridiculous questions being asked. professionalism was continued with a grim expression for another twenty minutes or so. hardly.

until mr sullivan basically dislocated his back by stretching in his chair with an exaggerated yawn leaving his cavernous mouth. "thought you woulda brought coffee since you kept us waiting for so long, cant believe you didn't make me some fresh". with beady eyes on you he smiled lazily. oh he has to be joking you thought to yourself there's no way this guy is real. play them at their own game. "why would i make more coffee? i've already made some for myself" you smiled sickly back at him back, one that gaz has used on you many times when he's late giving you a report.

the table fell unusually silent again, and that's when you noticed it. the crackling of unease filling the air. sharp eyes from the 141 darted from eachother to you, to mr sullivan and back again. "don't be so mean, i'm literally a dying man" he snarkily replied, eyeing you coolly. "i have urgent needs that need to be taken care of, won't you help?". you felt your cheeks warm at his badly hidden innuendo. he smirked at this, finally affecting you after bugging you the whole bloody meeting. fuck impressing him he's an arsehole.

"well, i'm sure you'll be alright by yourself again. seems it happens a lot." you said back, indifferent. as soon as that left your mouth a strange sharp bark that hastily turned in to a cough came from soap. all heads from the table whipped to look at him. "pardon me" he shakily said with an awfully contained smile. taking a sip of his drink his watery eyes didn't stray from the blank wall above ghosts head.

"let's get back on track hmm?" mr buckton suggested "so cheeky, must be that time of the month". he turned to you with an eyebrow raised with an impish grin.

what. what the actual fuck.

price coughed uncomfortably and turned away. gaz and ghost looked at eachother in disbelief. and soap was finding that wall even more interesting. surely it could not get any worse

"oh you all know what women are like, don't pretend. especially when they're frustrated" mr buckton let out a giggle "you know from work".

you actually spluttered, eyes wide with disbelief. the feeling of unease in the air was now a full crackle of electricity. just as you felt price boiling with anger you grabbed me bucktons hand. if everyone on the table wasn't watching you, they certainly were now

"tell me" you said. mr buckton looked at you shocked, mouth gaping open. "tell me what women are like. you know i've been so airheaded this last week i hardly know my left from my right!". just to amp it up a little you slowly crossed your arms just underneath your chest, accentuating it. "you've explained so much to me this meeting surely you could explain this?"

the 141's eyes grew to the size of saucers, there's no way these two would actually fall for this? right? how are you getting away with this, they thought. at this point mr bucktons and mr sullivans jaws were practically falling off. the latter was sadly the quickest to start talking 'so, when women start-". a smart rap in the door interrupted. a male voice said seriously "emergency call for you mr buckton".

"oh, oh you must excuse us. i have to end this meeting" mr buckton declared "i simply cant miss this". messily shuffling their papers together both men swiftly said their goodbyes to you all. with that they just about made it out the door without tripping over their own legs.

a second passed after the door banged shut before gaz burst out in howls of laughter, clutching his ribs, soon joined by soap who could barely look at the wall for any longer. ghost stared at the door muttering who knows what under his breath and the captain sat there with his gaze fixated on the table mortified. he turned his head to you apologising profusely and asking if you're okay.

you just nodded vaguely and replied "men"

all likes, reblogs and comments are so appreciated!! this is my first time writing something properly so i hope you enjoyed it

[hoshinasblade]

pairing: hoshina soshiro x reader // trigger warning: death (now i dont know if i should still make it as an x reader drabble because well, death)

try as he might, hoshina soshiro just couldn't think that meeting you was a mistake.

he was used to almost always getting the shorter end of the stick in life. though admittedly more privileged than the majority, hoshina will be a hypocrite if he says that he is the best at anything he likes doing - from a very young age he had reconciled in his mind the fact that he is forever going to arrive second in things: just the number two, never the one at the top. i will never be like my perfect older brother, he used to tell himself.

when you came to hoshina's life, he was still a rookie vice-captain who was trying to find his footing in leadership. he was not planning on being in a relationship at all - much less dating someone from the same institution - but love is a difficult opponent to win against, he supposes. and so he let himself fall for you - hard and fast and madly.

you asked him one time why he chose you, out of all the women and men who showed interest at him in and out of the defense force. "i guess it's cause i can be who i am when i'm with you. like i don't have to prove anything." because it's true - with you hoshina soshiro is neither the next in command of the third division nor he is the inferior brother - with you he is just hoshina soshiro, the man.

but being a man does not make anyone a savior. not at all.

there were no last words even as he rewinds the scene on his mind from years ago. he did not have the time to administer first aid anymore and probably at his subconscious he knew it would have been worthless anyway, so after a particularly violent kaiju had use its long, sharp claws to tear your suit and stab on your torso, hoshina watched you bleed to death. he barked orders - begged, even - for the medical team to hurry to your location, wishing and praying that time would stand still so that maybe you would have more moments with him before he loses you.

on your last breath you only smiled at him, cradled in his trembling arms.

when kafka said captain ashiro's first name despite the obvious implications, hoshina had an inkling of what is going on - he had a hunch that there is some history behind the two but he dared not ask. it was not his business, he should not care. but whenever he sees the cadet throw the commander a glimpse, hoshina's memories seem to unreel. he used to know how that feels - love.

"you shouldn't get too close to the rest of the other officers", he told kafka when hoshina caught him at 1 am still buried in books, studying. "in this line of work, something could happen to any one of them at anytime," he added before walking away, not bothering to wait for kafka to respond.

anyway apparently i have 500 followers now but i dont know what to do so i just drafted this short one while im waiting for sleep to come hehe, it's nothing much and i got the whole thing from literally two sentences said by this bowl cut man, hope you guys like it

[aleppothemushroom]

Inside Out 2 review

It's a rare thing to have a Pixar sequel that's as good as the original. Now, would I say Inside Out 2 is better than the original? Uuuhhh...no. Not really. Do I still think that it's an incredible film that does right by its predecessor? Absolutely.

For one thing, it doesn't conveniently forget the main character's arc from the first movie. Joy no longer passive-aggressively dismisses Sadness for being "useless." She treats the latter like an equal now, even letting her go on an important assignment.

The movie's message is also unique in how it's not "every emotion is important" and more about self-love. And what I really appreciate is that they don't tell you to practice self-love. They show you how to self-love. They find a way to perfectly visualize how being too hard on yourself is bad for you and how to treat yourself nicer. True, it's probably the only movie that can visualize that, but still it's so refreshing. Really hit home for me (I cried a little but not a lot because I'm a man [totally]).

Speaking of emotions, they're all just as entertaining and fun as they were before. There's a scene with Joy and Anger that particularly stands out. I love the new emotions too. Well...most of them, but we'll to that in a bit. Ennui and Embarrassment are both huge moods. Anxiety steals the show by a landside. She's funny, she's relatable, and she makes a great antagonist without being a "bad guy." She has her place in Riley's mind, she just doesn't exactly know what it is yet and is trying to do what she thinks is best.

Cool transition alert, Riley feels more like a...character in this? In the first movie she felt more like a vessel for the emotions, while here she feels way more independent and her own person rather than just an extension of the emotions (which is actually a major theme in the story).

The movie is also very funny. I'd even say it's more funny than the first. (Riley's hidden secrets are a huge highlight).

Now, what's holding Inside Out 2 from being better than the first movie to me? Well, let's get the minor nitpick out the way, I don't like Fear's new voice. Tony Hale's doing a fine job, but it does not sound like Fear. Which is weird because Disgust's new voice sound fine. Could they have not found someone else who sounded a bit more like Bill Hader? Like, there's gotta be a voice double you have on speed dial somewhere.

Now for actual criticisms, Envy. I like the concept behind the character. I like the design of the character. I do not like how they use this character. She doesn't really feel like "Envy" to me. The movie mostly just treats her as second-in-command to Anxiety. There's a few moments where she acts more envious, but it feels more like the movie is trying to remind us who she is rather than having her be consistent throughout. By the way, I'm gonna get into some spoilers, just to let you know.

SPOILER WARNING! ABANDON YEE WHO BE WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE!

That scene where Joy breaks down and Anger helps reinvigorate her spirits comes way too early. Which makes the scene where Joy is at her lowest moment and doesn't know what to do get resolved way too quickly.

Joy's arc in this one seems a bit undercooked. Like, I can see an inkling of her starting to believe that she's useless in Riley's growing mind, but it's only an inkling that gets resolves anyway.

Another arc, a story one, of the emotions learning to let Riley grow and develop on her own is also not fully developed. The movie tells us that's what the characters learn but like...did they? I like the idea, I like the resolution, I just didn't see the build-up. And if it was there, it was not that noticeable.

But while I had some complaints, I think the positives outweigh the negatives. This is an excellent Pixar sequel and I would not mind (HA!) if this became their new big franchise. I just hope that Disney doesn't learn the wrong lesson from this film's destined success and starts pumping out sequels like crazy.

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Leon Proposal and Wedding Headcanons

i understand the poll is not over yet, but this is the clear winnder! i've been watching a ton of wedding content recently, so i was so jazzed to receive this request. thanks anon!

features: gn! reader and 1 mild sexual refernce. other just pure fluff! also not proofread

Enjoy!

Now that he’s no longer champion

Leon has his sights on a much more important title

Husband

And the first step to gaining that title?

Finding a wonderful, awesome person that he loves and loves him back unconditionally?

He’s already got that covered!

Spoilers! It’s you!

Now he has to take the next step

The proposal

With Lee, I can see this going two ways, depending on the kind of person you are

If you’re someone who loves the spotlight, a fellow elite-class trainer and/or a major celebrity

I can totally see him proposing to you in front of a massive crowd in Wyndon Stadium

After an intense heart-pounding match

If you’re his opponent, when you go to shake his hand after the battle, he’ll take it

And drop down on one knee

If you’re just watching the match, he’ll call you out to the pitch

As the new head of the Galar League, he’s already got the staff clued in, no surprises with them

You walk onto the pitch to a roar of applause, having an inkling of what’s about to happen, where Lee gives you a kiss, takes your hand and get into position

Presents to you a little velvet box

And gives a heart-warming but brief speech

He’d love to go on, really pour his heart out… but some of the things he wants to say are just for your ears only

The whole time the audience is waiting on bated breath

With the occasional holler of “Go Leon!” and “Say Yes!”

Somebody did shout “Say no! I wanna marry him first!”

Which admittedly made you chuckle

The whole proposal is being broadcasted on the big screen, and across the region, maybe even the world

Which means, when you say – no, exclaim - “Yes!”, It’s the yes heard around the world

The crowd goes W I L D

Just an eruption of clapping and hollering and screaming

But you don’t register it at all

No, you’re too focused on the love of your life, slipping a gorgeous ring on your finger

And taking you in his arms

So warm, and strong, and perfect

He holds you to his body like you’re the most precious thing to him

Which you are

“I love you,” you hear him whisper in your ear

Your answer comes in the form of a passionate, triumphant kiss

Which makes the crowd go even crazier

Now, if you’re someone who’s more introverted, private and/or not a fan of public proposals

I imagine it’d go a little something like this;

It’d be a proposal in your shared home

And he’ll pull out all the stops to make it as romantic and as cosy as possible

He’ll secretly take a half day from the battle tower to prepare everything while you’re busy with work/school/etc.

The whole living room will be transformed

I’m talking candles (with your favourite scent)

Bunches upon bunches of favourite flowers

An arch decorated with said flowers

And so many photos of the two of you together from your relationship

Plus, ones of you that he just thinks are cute

He’ll prepare your favourite meal or order your favourite takeaway too

And he’ll wait by the front door, practically buzzing with excitement (and a touch of anxiety)

I mean, he’s pretty sure you’ll say yes

But he has an old, toxic friendship with doubt so, it’ll always be there, whispering falsehoods

You arrive home

Greeted by the sight of your purple haired himbo

And the lovely display he’s set up for you

It’s not your birthday, so you know something special is afoot

Even though, you’re certain it’s going to end with a proposal, you still end up feeling surprised

He takes your hand and walks you through all your memories together, reminding you how much you mean to him, how lucky he is to have you, how you’ve always been there for him, how much he loves you

And how he can’t imagine his life without you

It would be too painful

All ending with him getting on one knee under the arch of your favourite flowers

You’re crying, he’s crying

As you say “Yes!” and share a tight embrace

No matter if his proposal is public or private, the wedding is DEFINITELY private

That celebration of your love with you friends and family, just isn’t for the world to see

Except a few photos on social media a week or two later lol

It’ll be cute, quaint rustic affair

Probably in Wedgehurst or Postwick

In one of those farmhouses that double as wedding venues

Raihan is most likely best man

Hop’s just a bit too young

But he’s definitely a groomsman, and the ring bearer

He and Wooloo take this job very seriously

If you for one second think Charizard isn’t also a groomsman and wearing a bowtie, you’re SORELY mistaken my friend

The guest list is mainly your and his friends and family, and the Galar League

For the life of me, I can’t imagine Lee in a plain black suit/tux

He’ll at least wear a jacket that’s a colour that suits him

Probably something that’ll match the colour scheme

Let me tell you one thing

Well, two things

Lee will definitely cry

And he will carry you over every. single. threshold.

No exceptions

When he goes in for the kissTM he’ll cup your face and kiss you with so much love and passion you’ll be breathless

I’m sorry but that just gives me butterfrees

He will give a speech and a toast to you at the reception

It’ll be heartfelt and dorky just like him

Raihan’s best man speech is funny, and just a touch irreverent

He definitely harps on about how you’re way out of Leon’s league

And how smitten Lee is with you

When it comes to the cake, if you let him, Lee would like to smush a bit of it on your face

Just a little smush

Which he fully expects you to do back to him

Again, only if this is something you want

You two will definitely feed each other cake either way though

During the whole reception (and before) Lee just has this goofy, lovestruck expression on his face

He gives you heart eyes the entire time

And he keeps asking if it’s really real

Is he really your husband now?

You delight in telling him yes, every time

 Your first dance is basically just the two of you hugging while you sway to music for like three minutes

The world disappears, and it’s just you and your husband

It’s perfect

After a fantastic night of food, dancing and fun

Leon picks you up and carries you over one last threshold

Sure, the night may be done, but the fun? That’s not over yet ;)

[ghostandsoap]

The Sound of Silence

Captain John Price x Fem! "Peach" Reader Tags: Angst. Anxiety. Panic attack. Mentions of death (a lot of it). Word Count: 5.2k "I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight."

There were a lot of risks when it came to this job.

The physical demands were intense, the mental strain was immense, and the emotional toll was heavy. Not to mention the biggest one.

Danger was a guarantee. Survival was not.

Despite these challenges, for those who chose this career, it was a type of calling that was felt deep within their souls.

The training was hard, pushing their bodies to the limit and beyond. They learned to work as a team, trusting their team with their lives. They faced danger head-on, knowing that every mission could be their last.

This was something that Price and Peach had talked about before. It was a bit difficult not to address this possibility.

When it was only discussed, it was a hypothetical scenario. Neither of them went into any kind of mission with the expectation of dying...they understood it was a possibility, but it wasn't something they counted on.

They had listed and discussed just about every possible way to die on a mission. Getting shot, blown up, stabbed, drowned, poisoned, beaten, etc. You name it, and they had talked about it.

To an outsider, this was freaky weird. Who in their right mind would actively talk to their significant other about dying in awfully traumatic ways? For them, it was more of a preparation thing.

Of course neither of them ever wanted to see the day where one of those scenarios became true for the other. As a matter of fact, they actively did everything they could to not meet any one of these fates.

But the truth was that it was a very real possibility. And even though they never, ever wanted to have it happen...it was something they both needed to be prepared for.

To avoid having this come up all the time though, they talked about their futures in a way that didn't have anything to do with dying.

For example, Price had his life with Peach all planned out.

There was a rumor that Price had bought an engagement ring when they were six months in, and he held on to it everywhere he went for when the moment was right.

According to this rumor, John actively took the ring in and out of the box. When he was on the go and needed extra pocket space, he took the ring out of the box. When he didn't need the space, he put it back in the box and took the whole thing.

Peach didn't really believe it, because she could hardly imagine John Price walking around with an engagement ring in his pocket, fiddling with it when he felt an inkling that it was time to propose.

Price did seriously want to marry Peach, though. He wanted to have kids with her (two specifically, a boy and a girl). He wanted to buy a house out in the middle of the country with no neighbors, but close enough to civilization to where they weren't cut off.

All of these things he had mentioned to her, and they talked about it in decent detail. It was hard to get too in depth with it though, because it seemed that work always got in the way.

And the thing was, they could never walk away from this job. None of Force 141 could.

Each of them had specific skills and talents that made them the perfect team. A family even.

They worked well together. Every mission with them together was almost always a guaranteed success.

But this mission had been different.

It was extremely rare for a mission like this to come up. It wasn't really the mission that was the problem, it was the execution plan.

Price didn't like splitting up. He never liked any of his team going out alone. He liked his team to have backup at all times, someone there for support when things went wrong.

However, this mission was special in the sense that there was no other way to complete it without having everybody be on their own for the majority of the night.

This mission had all kinds of moving parts, and for the sake of time and efficiency, it was best for everyone (despite Price's reservations) to go solo and reconvene at the end for extraction.

They were going to a place that was only accessible by water, meaning that there was only one way on and off the island. It was no tropical vacation by any means, and there was a lot at stake.

In theory, the plan was simple. Everyone was to split up, complete their tasks without getting compromised, and meet back up at the docks. There was a boat set to go for them when they were ready, and assuming all went well, this mission was supposed to be a piece of cake.

Supposed to be.

The mission almost went without a hitch. Everybody was able to successfully complete their job without detection. Gaz returned to the docks first, followed by Soap and then Ghost. Peach rolled up fourth, adrenaline running and satisfaction flowing.

The docks were well hidden, which was intentional. The air was thick and warm with the smell of salt and fish, and the only sound was the gentle lapping of water against the wooden piers.

The sky was just getting dark now, little specks of stars dotting the canvas above.

She was relieved to see Ghost, Gaz, and Soap unscathed and well. Not that she minded having to stitch them up or anything, but it did make her job easier when she didn't have to.

She immediately noticed that Price wasn't there, and she turned to Ghost.

"Price isn't back yet?" She asked, brows furrowed.

"No," Ghost shook his head. "Should be here any minute."

Price was known to take longer than expected. He did things the right way every time, and if that meant adding some time to his estimate, then so be it.

No one worried yet. Price could handle himself. They started packing up the boat, making sure everything was in place so that they could leave as soon as Price showed up.

Once the boat was packed, the four of them took a load off. They sat in a semicircle, really just chatting more than anything.

Of course, Soap did most of the talking.

"Hey, Peaches..." Soap said, and he went on when she looked at him. "Remember I was trying t'come up with a nickname for you n' Price?"

She stifled a laugh. Soap had thrown out some crazy suggestions in the last few weeks -- Peachy Price, PP (Price strongly disliked this one), P&P...just to name a few.

She couldn't even imagine what he had come up with this time.

"Let's hear it." She said.

"Get ready," He beamed. "P squared."

There was a beat of quiet, and then Gaz spoke.

"What?" He asked.

"Price n' Peach...both start with P. Two names, both starting with P," Soap explained. "P Squared!"

"Johnny, that sucks." Ghost was honest, and Soap's jaw dropped a little.

"It's clever," Soap corrected. "It's a layered joke."

Peach laughed.

"P squared..." She repeated, pondering on it. "I actually don't hate that. I can't promise the same for Price though."

"He's gonna love it!" Soap laughed, which earned chuckles and head shakes from Gaz and Ghost.

The playful banter went on for a while...too long, as a matter of fact. The sky was fully dark now, a testament as to how much time had passed. There had been no sign of or word from Price.

Peach's intuition was firing off. She knew something was wrong with Price. She began to fidget with her hands, her mind going through all the possible scenarios.

Now she was starting to worry.

"Where's Price?" Peach asked, the beginning of a pit of dread opening up in her gut as she stood to her feet. "He should've been back by now."

He knew the plan. Price wouldn't stray from a plan like this...not intentionally anyway. The rest of them got to their feet as well, beginning to prepare to go looking for him.

"How long has it been?" Gaz asked, and Soap looked at his watch.

"Hour n' a half."

That was way too long. This wasn't just Price getting caught up doing something. Something was telling her that he was in trouble.

Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Peach all shared a look -- and the first drop of panic pooled in her stomach. She reached for her radio, trying to keep her composure.

"Price, what's your status?" She asked, hoping that he could hear her from wherever he was.

There was only a few seconds of silence before she got a response.

"Got a bit of a situation here." Price said, and his voice had that sharp edge to it that showed up whenever he was in survival mode.

There was the sound of movement in the background. Her heart skipped a couple of beats. "A situation" could mean anything.

"What kind of situation?" She stared at the lapping water underneath the dock she was standing on.

She was already planning on going after him. If she went to his last known location, she could track him and figure out where he was.

"Got some unexpected company," He said, and you could hear the sound of his heavy footsteps hitting the ground and his gear getting tossed around. He was running. "I've been compromised."

That definitely meant that he was in trouble.

"What's your location?" She asked, her heart beginning to thud in her chest.

"I"m by the warehouse, northwest of the-"

His transmission was abruptly cut off. A mixture of sounds emitted from Price's end -- rapid gunfire, an ear-splitting explosion, and then silence.

The only sound now was crackling static of an open line, a stark contrast to the chaos that had just ensued.

Peach's eyes were wide. Her stomach frozen and her brain beginning to fog.

This couldn't mean...he wasn't...

"Captain Price, this is Peach...do you copy?" She asked, a tingling sensation beginning to appear in her fingers and hands.

But there was no response. Only the haunting echo of the unanswered call lingered in the air. The only noises that graced her ears were radio static and the sound of her thumping heart.

"Captain, how copy?" She tried again, the tingling in her hands turning into trembling as she gripped her radio harder.

Her vision was beginning to tunnel, and her breathing was getting shallow and short. A surge of panic rushed through her, causing a certain numbness in her extremities.

"John, can you hear me?" She asked desperately, her voice quavering with each word.

The seconds that passed felt like hours. The feeling of helplessness suffocated her, the knowledge of not being able to do a single thing bringing a horrible sense of doom to her body.

Her eyes were glued to the sky as if she was trying to memorize every star pattern that was visible to her. But instead, she was wishing on every single one that this wasn't happening and that this wasn't real.

He couldn't be gone. Fate hadn't been very kind to Peach in her lifetime, but John...

John had been her biggest blessing. Her solace, her energy, her comfort, her love. There was no way that he was gone just like that. He couldn't have been stolen away from her and ripped from her heart.

He couldn't be dead. This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't part of the plan. They were supposed to settle down and get married and have kids...have a real life together. Suddenly, their future was blurred.

The love and warmth of her soul had just vanished and slipped through her fingers.

Hot tears were stinging her eyes, pressing hard against her lash line and bringing an aching lump to her throat. There was a shuffle behind her, the sound of weight shifting between feet.

Her grip on her radio tightened even harder as if her only possible contact with John would disintegrate if she let go. She turned around at the noise, and she was met with the sight of the three strongest, most confident men that she knew were suddenly withdrawn.

She couldn't hear anything anymore. It was like her ears were filtering every little noise out so that they would be able to hear the one sound she was desperate for.

She couldn't hear the breeze rustling the trees or the birds fluttering in the sky above. The water beneath the docks was suddenly still and flat.

Ghost kept his gaze on her, his fists clenched into fists at his sides. Soap couldn't bring himself to look at her, his eyes pointed at his boots and the earth beneath him. Gaz's brows were furrowed in horror, his eyes struck with disbelief and sorrow.

"Ghost..." She whispered, their silence scaring her more than anything. "S-Soap?"

Their silence was unnerving. All three of them were too afraid to say anything to her. This was her worst nightmare coming true and unfolding right in front of her. Losing her beloved John Price at the hands of evil.

Her heart beat for John Price. The thought of Peach without Price or Price without Peach was just unfathomable.

Too many moments passed. It was just Peach staring at the three men who couldn't come up with something to say even if their life depended on it. Eventually, Ghost just had to say something.

"Peach..." Ghost said, reaching out for her with a slow, gentle hand like she was a frightened animal. "Come here."

She shook her head frantically, backing away from the three of them.

"I can't...J-John..." Her chest was heaving now, her entire system succumbing to anxiety and pure panic.

She was falling apart. Her life as she knew it crumbling in front of her and there wasn't a single thing that she could do about it.

They were supposed to get married...have a boy and a girl...have a countryside house that was just far enough away from the real world.

How could all of that just be gone? It couldn't be gone.

All four of them were trained to face death on the battlefield, but this…this was different. This was Peach -- their comrade, their friend, their own family -- breaking down right in front of them.

Peach was the strongest woman they knew, and they were watching her fall apart.

They all watched her grow worse by the second. Her face turned a sort of color that they had never seen, her breathing starting to stall and come out in short gasps.

“Peach,” Gaz tried this time, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. "I-I need you to breathe."

Gaz was genuinely concerned that she was literally going to croak and die right in front of him from the shock of losing Price.

That's how much she loved him.

The next four decades of Peach's life was flashing right before her eyes. All of those years she had counted on Price being with her. Now she couldn't imagine her future at all.

Ghost, Gaz, and Soap knew there wasn't a thing they could say. A very still, eerie silence was shared between the three men. They watched and listened to Peach as she began to spiral.

The silence was killing her ears. She had a headache creeping its way to the front of her skull. She was sure that if she stood in this silence any longer, her head would literally explode.

But before that could happen, there was a sound. It was two sounds actually. Two different sounds. Two beautiful, wonderful, welcomed sounds.

Radio static and a voice.

"Peaches..." A gravelly, beautifully familiar voice sounded over comms. "This is Price. You read me?"

Suddenly, her life re-entered her in a rush and all at once.

He was alive.

"John..." She almost squeaked, a heat rising into her throat until she swallowed it back down. "I-I read you. Loud n' clear."

"Affirmative. You still at the docks?" He sounded breathless, like he was trying to control his breathing.

Her brain was sprinting at a million miles an hour. Every piece of information that she was hearing was flying into one ear and out the other without any processing in the middle.

The only response she could manage was a collection of stammering, which eventually cracked the dam and opened the floodgates. Overcome with emotion and anxiety, she practically collapsed in place. The only thing that kept her from hitting the ground was Soap, who swooped in at the last second to catch her.

"Captain. This is Ghost," He filled in for her. "Affirmative. We're northwest of your location, right behind the..."

The rest of Ghost's directions were a jumbled mess of sounds that she couldn't comprehend. There was a ringing in her ears, and the only thing louder than that was her own cries.

"It's alright," Soap held onto her as she clutched onto him for dear life. "He's alright, Peach. Price is alright."

Soap held her as tight as he could and spoke in his most gentle voice, despite the fact that he knew that his presence was nothing compared to whenever Price could get his arms around her.

"We're gonna get him," Soap made eye contact with Ghost, who was communicating with him through a certain expression. "Ghost and Gaz are goin' to get him right now."

Peach could only nod, her grip on Soap tightening. She watched as Ghost and Gaz moved swiftly towards the direction Ghost had indicated, disappearing into the darkness.

The wait was agonizing...it was painful. Each second felt like an eternity as Peach clung to Soap, her heart pounding in her chest. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional crackle of the radio.

Suddenly, a burst of static came through the radio, followed by a familiar voice.

“Ghost, this is Price. I’m on your six.”

A wave of relief washed over Peach. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, her body sagging against Soap, who was holding onto her like he was the only thing keeping her together.

“Copy.” Ghost’s voice came through the radio, a hint of relief evident in his tone.

About ten minutes later, Ghost and Gaz emerged from the darkness, a figure limping between them.

It was Price, battered, burned, and bruised...but alive.

Her cheeks were soaked with tears, her hair sticking to her face as she laid eyes on her lover that was standing before her. On wobbly legs, she rushed to her feet and over to him. Peach threw her arms around him with a desperate, yet thankful exhale. He grunted in discomfort at the feeling of being jostled, but he wrapped an arm around her and held her close.

"John..." She squeaked, unable to say anything else.

Being able to say his name while actually holding him felt like a blessing. He smelled like gasoline, gunpowder, and sweat, but she had never been more relieved to smell such a mix.

"I'm alright, Peaches..." He shuddered out an exhale that came from far within. "I'm fine, darling."

He didn't sound fine. His voice was strained and groggy, and the slight quiver in his words didn't make him sound fine. But he was here, alive, heart beating, and breathing -- so "fine" was something she could work with.

Price had no doubt in his mind that he had scared her to death. He had been scared to death. This was one of those "unmentionable moments" that the two of them had talked about before. Now that he was living it in real time, it felt so, so horribly surreal.

The hypothetical had become reality.

They found a break in their embrace, Ghost and Gaz stepping away to give them their space. Price held onto Peach's forearms to stay upright, a searing pain in his side making it hard to stand.

His cheeks were covered with soot and dirt, his left eye was slightly swollen and bruised, he had a slight burn on the right side of his face, and he had a fairly deep cut on his lip

Frankly, he looked terrible, but to her -- it was the best he had ever looked.

They sat there in silence, their arms locked together, as the chaos of the world around them seemed to fade into the background. It was just them - Peach and Price - two souls intertwined in a dance as old as time itself.

They were talking to one another without saying anything at all. Their eyes were communicating. He was telling her that he was there and alive...and on the flip side, she was telling him that he was there and alive.

She felt like she was watching their life together pass by in the reflection of his eyes. He knew how much she meant to him, but this was a reminder all over again.

She was everything to him.

He knew that this would make them stronger individually and as a couple. It would definitely take some time before she moved past this in an emotional context...and he had to tackle the emotional and physical aspect of it.

They would be having a long talk about this...more than one for sure. But for now, she was just beyond thankful that he was there, and he was thankful to still be there.

"Where are you hurt?" She asked, another set of tears rolling down her cheeks and she spoke through sniffles.

Her question was pretty empty. She wasn't quite sure what else to say, and the medic in her was coming forth.

Peach would examine him from head to toe when they were out of here and in a safe place. She could tell just by looking at his outer injuries and the way he was holding himself that his body had taken the most damage, and that he had several weeks of recovery ahead of him.

She would be there for him every step of the way. She was his rock after all, his anchor in the stormy sea of recovery.

"Everywhere," Price chuckled, but it wasn't an amused laugh. "Let's get out of here first."

Gaz, Ghost, and Soap took that as their cue, coming in for assistance. Ghost and Soap guided Price from the dock to the boat, and Gaz held Peach's hand and led her as well.

As they all boarded the boat, Gaz gave Peach a reassuring squeeze of her hand.

"We've got him, P. He's going to be fine." He said.

Peach nodded, her gaze never leaving her beloved Captain Price. She watched as Ghost and Soap carefully settled him down, their movements gentle yet efficient. She knew they were trained for this, but it was still hard to see Price in such a state.

It was hard to see any of them hurt.

Once everyone was on board, Ghost started the boat engines and began to pull out from the dock. Normally, Peach would've been a little nervous with Ghost driving, but she was far too distracted with John to even give it a second thought.

Once they were on route back to safety, Peach moved to sit beside John, holding his hands in hers as she spoke to him.

"John, what happened out there?" She asked, almost scared to.

He shook his head. His hands were still shaking.

"Complete ambush. They knew I was coming I suppose," He said. "Some kind of explosive took me out for a bit. Hell, I don't even know what it was."

She really shouldn't have even asked. Chills shuddered down her spine. She couldn't bear to think about this anymore.

Peach had her medic pack with her, and she was beginning to rummage through her pack and looking him over.

"I'll get you fixed up," She said, something she always said when starting to patch someone up. "Let's start with that cut."

Her voice was barely audible over the sound of the boat's engine and the wind, but Price could literally only hear her over everything else.

They were quiet for a bit as she cleaned him up and tended to his wounds. She was seeing him in better light now, and she definitely could tell that his eye was going to be swollen shut and purple by the time morning came around.

Thankfully, the burns on his face weren't too bad. They would irritate him for the next few days, but she didn't see any real threat with them.

He complained about his side the most, saying that's where most of his pain was. He had some definite tenderness there, and while she didn't feel any broken ribs, there was some bruising and evidence of impact there. She would have to more thoroughly check him out when they were back on land, but she was doing what she could for him now.

When she was finished with him for the time being, she didn't do anything else but sit with him. They sat together quietly. Just listening and feeling the other.

She rested her head on his shoulder, his hands still resting in hers. He never wanted to let go of her ever again. He would super glue himself to her if he had to.

He had almost died today. And the thought of leaving her was tearing him up more than death itself.

He thought about all the times they had talked about those hypothetical death scenarios. All the "preparation" they had done didn't seem to matter at all when it really came down to it. That was when it dawned on him.

Dying he was prepared for. Leaving her was a different story.

Price's thoughts were interrupted when he realized Soap was standing in front of them, hands jammed into his pockets and a stoic look on his face.

"Hey there, P Squared." Soap said. "Take it easy, Captain. We need you around."

That was Soap's way of saying: "You scared me, and I'm glad you're okay."

Soap walked away after that, leaving just as fast as he had come. He didn't even give either of them a chance to respond. John turned his head to look at Peach, who's coloration in her face was looking much better finally.

"P Squared?" John asked, and she grinned her first smile of the night.

"Our new nickname." She said without even raising her head from his shoulder.

John thought about it for a moment. Then let out a short chuckle.

"Not bad."

It was quiet again after that, and Peach just accepted that there wouldn't be very much talking tonight.

They would both recover on their own time. This feeling of anxiety and emotional distress would pass for both of them. Price would be up and about in a few weeks, and she would return to normal soon enough as well.

This was a process like any other. One that needed time, patience, and love from one another.

It felt like hours and hours of the boat gliding across black water into seemingly nothingness. Not a single wave or bump interrupted the boat's course, which was much appreciated considering that Ghost had the throttle pushed as far as it could go.

With one arm wrapped around her, and the other one free -- John took his free hand and slipped it into his pocket. His fingertips brushed against something familiar -- it was cold and small. Something that he had forgotten about for the first time since he bought it.

Price fiddled with it, a sense of remembrance and a bit of nerves rushing through every system he had. He touched the metal band of the ring and the diamond centered on it. He had memorized how it felt, because he had been playing with it and carrying it around since the day he bought it.

For a moment, he seriously thought about proposing to her. In no way was this the setting or circumstances he had imagined when it came to asking her to marry him, but he felt so connected and so in love with her in this moment that it felt all too right.

But he knew that this wasn't a good time. He was fresh off of almost dying and Peach was literally traumatized from it -- not a great proposal setting. Besides, he would never forgive himself if she associated her proposal with one of the worst nights of their life.

Yeah, definitely not the right time.

Good call, John. He thought to himself. Her emotions have been through enough tonight.

Suddenly, the first bit of land became barely visible on the horizon, and Price spoke.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight." He couldn't help but chuckle, and this time it was because he was amused.

After a near death experience, that wasn't surprising.

"Me neither," She whispered, raising her head to look at him. "Stay up with me?"

He felt like he could melt. She was staring at him like she was petrified that he was going to disintegrate if she let go of him. He kissed her then, ignoring the sting and ache in his lip as he did so.

The kiss was real. It reminded her that he was really alive and would see another day. Their future was still intact.

"Yes," He said. "Of course."

And, as promised, the two of them stayed up for the remainder of the night. As soon as their feet hit solid ground, Gaz and Soap delivered Price to a place where Peach could finally take a real look at him.

She took her time, looking over every inch of him and checking for anything he might have missed. By the time she was satisfied and content with her thorough examination, it had been almost two hours.

Honestly, she would've kept checking his vitals and examining him until the sun came up. But he had been through quite enough today, so she figured poking and prodding him wasn't the best call.

Considering what had happened, Price was extremely lucky to have gotten away with the injuries that he did. A couple of bone bruises, mild burns, and several superficial lacerations was a cakewalk.

Peach gave him extra cherry suckers that night out of her pack. Even though he didn't have the appetite for them, he took them with appreciation and downed every single one that she gave him. He would never take those cherry lollipops for granted ever again.

The two of them spent the late night hours together. Holding one another, continuing to be thankful and grateful that John Price didn't die that night.

They found solace in each other's arms. They were no doubt shaken to their cores, but there was peace with one another. John, who had brushed death, was alive and breathing in real time next to her.

Each breath he took was a reminder of the fact that each one was a miracle.

They held each other tighter, their hearts beating in sync, as if trying to make up for the beats that could have been lost. They spoke in hushed tones, their words a mix of relief, love, and a newfound appreciation for life.

John was still counting on marriage, two kids (still one boy and one girl), and a countryside house that was far, but not too far. After this, he wanted it even more than before.

They watched night turn into morning. Each moment was precious. A gift. A blessing.

John Price didn’t die that day. For that, she was eternally grateful. He was eternally grateful.

They were eternally grateful.

[paleshroom]

Loo Loo Land may have some blink-and-you-miss-it foreshadowing for the upcoming Octavia episode, particularly Octavia’s relationship with Stella.

These are screenshots from right before Stolas sings You Will Be Okay to a young Octavia. On the wall are two major things: 1) Octavia’s drawing of her and her father, and 2) a portrait of the two of them together. Stella is absent from both. Note: this is a *different* father-daughter portrait from the one we see Blitz walk by during the Not Divorced party in The Circus. Thus, there are *two* known portraits of Octavia with just her father, and one drawing she did of just the two of them.

Neither Loo Loo Land nor Seeing Stars show any drawings or photos of Stella in Octavia’s room. There are zero portraits of Octavia with just Stella alone. We see two portraits of Stella with Octavia at all, but both of them include Stolas as well (the Loo Loo Land family portrait in the kitchen, and a more recent family portrait that can be seen in the background of Stolas’s room in The Full Moon and The Circus).

Also, in the opening scene of Loo Loo Land, although we hear her call “Mommy! Daddy!” after waking from her nightmare, when Stolas goes to her room, she says this:

“I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Not ���you and mom,” just “you.”

What does this mean?

I believe Stella and Octavia have always been distant and - given the line we see in the trailer - are only getting closer as a result of Octavia feeling betrayed by her father. I think Stella has primarily been using Octavia as a tool for power, including power over Stolas. Could she have some love for Octavia still? Maybe, but I’m willing to bet that’s not the only reason she has Octavia spend time with her on weekends.

I also think Octavia has probably had some inkling something was wrong for a while. She obviously doesn’t know the extent of the abuse, but there’s just no way she didn’t see or hear something at some point to make her pause and wonder what was going on (even if she couldn’t pinpoint what it was). You can try your best to hide what’s going on between you and your spouse from your kid, but kids know. Even if they don’t want to know - they don’t want it to be true, but they know. And from what we’ve seen of Stella, she’s not subtle period, let alone subtle about her distaste for “a boring stiff like Stolas.” And Stolas, as passive as he’s been with Stella until this point, can’t do anything to hide that part. And before I get someone saying something stupid, I am NOT saying Octavia is at fault in any way here.

As a final note - we know Octavia’s hurt comes from a fear of abandonment, but I think it goes further than that. I think it extends to not just losing him in general, but from a fear of having the same (or even greater) distance from him as she’s had with her mother. Stolas has been everything to her; she’s used to her mother’s (suspected) distance, but with him? After he promised so many times otherwise? That’s what really hurts. I think this is going to be the greatest contributing factor to her emotional state in that episode - the betrayal of a parent, who unlike the other, was supposed to stay.

[red-bat-arse]

Just Date Someone Better!

*I don't do tag lists*

Eddie and Chrissy were friends, completely by accident. There was a late winter party with a few too many black out drunk basketball players that pushed the tipsy and sober crowd to migrate into the garage; Eddie made a snipe about pompoms and the mating rituals of high school preps that Chrissy, a little high, cackled at before asking him if his species did the same but on top of cafeteria tables, and they'd gone from there.

Sure, it was mainly based on having a weed buddy to talk shit about high school boys to, but hey, everyone started somewhere. The rumours about him had already paved the way, so when Chrissy asked him how many drinks it'd take before he would kiss Patrick Mckinney, he took the out and avoided the confrontation he always dreaded with new friends. And when Chrissy cried over him buying her Mcdonald's for dinner one day, he got to learn something about her that she kept close to her chest too.

Eddie was queer as a two dollar bill, and when he got comfortable with someone he didn't bother hiding it. It was no wonder that several weeks in his circle tripped Chrissy into figuring something important out about herself, granted the waterworks she burst into when she finally confided in him in late January were a touch less dramatic than his own coming out to Wayne, where he'd freaked out so bad he'd tripped and broken his nose. And then just being two queer kids getting through high school in Hawkins would've been fine and dandy, figuratively and literally, if not for two major factors.

Chrissy had a judgemental prick for a boyfriend, and her mother had held her college fund over her head from the moment she voiced an inkling of doubt in their relationship. Apparently good christian boys like Jason, nephew of their church's preacher, were the cream of Hawkins' crop, and it would set her up for life if she accepted that she would follow him to college, get married when he graduated and come back to town to raise their kids all before she turned 25. It wasn't even that Chrissy didn't want that life -actually, she desperately wanted to find someone who would love her, marry her and settle down for a long, quiet life -but she wanted to do it on her terms, not her mother's or Jason's.

Eddie quickly learnt to hate Chrissys' mom and look at Jason with something akin to pity. At least Jason, despite being a self absorbed teenage boy, did actually seem to love Chrissy -though it was clear after watching for a few weeks that he didn't much listen to her or notice when she was struggling. The less said about how Eddie felt concerning the way Chrissy's mother treated her, the better his blood pressure would be, but he could work out that animosity by getting Chrissy out of her head and eating, and there wasn't a damn thing Laura Cunningham could do about it.

Or at least, there wasn't anything physical, Eddie thought grimly one day when he picked up Chrissy's shirt off his floor -she always changed at his place to be more comfortable -and noticed the rough edges of hastily taken in seams. Or the way that on Mondays Chrissy had recently started flinching at loud voices and would pick at her food, never actually eating it, and always, always make a point to sit closer to Jason at lunch and in class even though after school she told Eddie she wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Eddie was pretty sure she was going to snap one day and it wouldn't turn out well.

He wished he could just tell her to kick Jason to the curb, but it would only make her other problems worse, and there were still months until graduation, not to mention she couldn't skip town without any funds. Even if they left together, that would be potentially months living on one income, and she'd start to hate herself for 'being a burden' even if Eddie could never think she was. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

He'd never tell the shrimp this, but Dustin really saved them when he came up with a plan one night after Hellfire, right around March when they'd spent all of the last campaign watching Eddie craft enemies who were holier-than-thou royals or witches who cursed the party with various ills. Honestly it was a miracle Chrissy herself had never witnessed one of those in action.

"So it's all about reputation?" he asked as they were packing up, a look on his face that spelled trouble whenever he pulled it during a session. Eddie nodded back, saying something about how Carver was apparently high royalty in the eyes of the waspy control freak mother population in town, and Dustin perked up even more. "Well then all Chrissy has to do is date someone better in the meantime."

That pulled Eddie up short, which made Gareth bump into his back as they left the drama room.

"How do you figure that, casanova?" Mike rolled his eyes and shoved a little at Dustin's shoulder. "Going to set her up with a winner all by yourself?"

"It wouldn't be real, Mike," Dustin rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, huffing. "She wants alone time and someone she can drop when she goes to college, boom. If he's better than Carver, that should keep her mom from complaining, and give her a boost in school if it's someone really impressive. The gossip chain loves a good romance," he spread his hands wide, like they should all be following him to some predestined conclusion. "Who do we know that's age appropriate, a nice dude, with a good reputation, and, more importantly, available and hung up on someone else?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Mike whined.

"You want Chrissy to fake-date Steve goddamn Harrington?!" Eddie hissed.

Steve Harrington -who better in Hawkins than Steve 'The Hair' Harrington for a hare-brained scheme like this? Steve, who still held clout from his high school days with the current juniors and seniors who hadn't noticed his fall at the time, but definitely remembered that he'd become kinder. Steve, whose name was well respected in town both for his parents' reputations and the way he'd saved people during the starcourt fire last year, and then stepped between Sinclair and Billy Hargrove the year before that. Steve, who may've been working retail but could easily fudge his situation as 'gaining independence and responsibility before he leaves town to learn under his father and take over the family business'. Steve, handsome and charming but a meangirl at heart. Steve, still hung up on Nancy wheeler so he wasn't a threat. Steve, the abdicated King.

Sue him, he'd listened to the kid's hero worship of the guy for six months, Eddie could wax poetic about his stupid tiny crush if he wanted. Thank god he'd never named serious names when he and Chrissy were bitching about the Hawkins male population before this.

More importantly, when Dustin and Eddie met with him to talk it over, Steve listened with a weirdly intense look on his face as to why Eddie was even entertaining Dustin's insane idea. It was the first time Eddie really vocalized the magnitude of how much his worry about Chrissy turned his insides out, and that if he didn't have such a negative reputation himself he'd have put himself up for grabs in a heartbeat. Eddie didn't say it outright, but the fact he was willing but unable to play Chrissy's beard really got to him, but part of the sentiment must have shone through, because in the end Steve agreed -but only if he could talk to Chrissy about it first.

It was surreal to host Chrissy, Dustin and Steve freaking Harrington in the living room of his trailer the next evening -really made him want a cigarette in the lead up, quietly fretting about what the kid and his big brother were going to think about the small, cluttered space he called home. But he shouldn't have been worried. Dustin flopped down on the couch without pause, and Steve just asked whether Eddie wanted him to take his shoes off before he followed, looking as comfortable as if he were in his own house.

Eddie had, of course, briefed Chrissy on the proposed plan on their way back from school to give her time to think on it. She was only a little miffed that Eddie had talked to Steve about it without consulting her first, but admitted it would've been awkward approaching Steve about something like this either way. She was still stewing in her thoughts by the time they showed up, brow furrowed and fingers tapping at the sweats she'd stolen from Eddie's dresser the minute they got in the door.

"So you're really still hung up on Nancy Wheeler?" she asked bluntly, and Steve choked a little. He glared at Dustin when the kid laughed and shook his head, getting up to pull him away from the couch.

"Okay, no, not having this conversation with the peanut gallery present. Take your dork master outside and let me and Chrissy talk in private," Steve shot Eddie a disarming little grin, and despite himself Eddie felt his feet move to follow a protesting Dustin right back out his own front door. The kid huffed something fierce but had a big smile on his face when he dropped into one of the porch chairs and looked up at Eddie.

"Steve's got this," he said, perfectly confident, and Eddie -well, he let himself believe it.

Steve didn't just have Dustin's admiration, he had his trust, and that didn't come cheap. If he said Steve would go along with this if Chrissy was on board, exactly to her specifications and no further, then that was what would happen. If he said Steve was still pining over the elder Wheeler, well, Eddie had his doubts based on how glued to Buckley's hip the guy was, but it meant Steve wasn't going to actually develop feelings for Chrissy. And if the guy born with a silver spoon could settle in Eddie's home without even a hint of distaste, whether it meant he was a good actor or just a good dude, either way, they were golden. Who better in Hawkins was there for a plan like this?

Well, maybe it'd be better if Eddie wasn't going to be crushing on his best friend's fake boyfriend, but no plan was perfect. He'd be fine.

[pillarsalt]

How do you cope with loneliness? My friends are so important to me but sometimes I feel like I can't fully relate to them anymore, and I just think about how they would hate me if they knew I was GC. I have TIF and even a few TIM friends that I love and cherish very dearly because I can see that they've just fallen victim to a toxic ideology feeding their body dysmorphia and self-esteem issues. But I can't tell them how genuinely worried I am about their mental health or send them detrans testimonies that I think they would relate to because they'd think I was some hateful violent monster that I'm not. Even the content creators that bring me joy and comfort are all so fiercely anti-TERF and it just makes me sad. I don't want to hurt anyone. I even distanced from the radfem community a bit because I felt like I was becoming too hateful towards men and TIMs when I truly believe many of the ones in my life are just trying their best and fell victim to a manipulative ideology that myself and other women also fell for. It's not that I wish I was still a TRA, because I feel much more at peace internally with my identity and my belief system, but I don't know if I can say peaking has made me happier overall. I feel like I don't fit in anywhere now. Making radfem friends helped a little bit but it's not the same as being around people I've known for years and gotten close to for reasons other than this one shared belief. I don't just want to abandon them all. And it's FRUSTRATING to see people spew misinformed fearmongered nonsense and not be able to actually help them dissect those beliefs. Feeling like the only one who sees things for how they really are, but forced to play along regardless, is just so restrictive and isolating.

To be completely honest with you, I don't have a great answer. I've been lucky to have one or two close friends at a time to whom I can tell everything, including my uncensored feminism-related beliefs. I've also been (and currently am) in friend groups with multiple people who identify as trans or are dating someone who identifies as trans, and have had to keep my thoughts and opinions to myself to keep the peace. I agree it's incredibly difficult sometimes, and I know a fair few of them would instantly drop me if they knew I was a "terf". It's kind of funny because I know some of them have an inkling of what I think about the issue, but say nothing so they don't have to fight with me. If anyone asked my opinion directly, I wouldn't lie, but I admit that I lie by omission.

It is hard to watch the ones who take the medicalization route hurt themselves. My ex girlfriend and I still talk, she's a they/them nonbinary now and despite always and still being very feminine and never expressing discomfort with her body before (including posting thirst traps often,) she wants to get a mastectomy soon. It sucks because of course after having looked into this phenomenon for so long, I'm well aware of the complications and side effects that can result from a major procedure like this: phantom pain/itching, extensive and restrictive scarring, the risks of infection and necrosis, and of course the risk of regretting having an entire organ unnecessarily removed from your body later on when it's no longer fashionable to do so. It sucks that voicing even the mere suggestion that it might be a bad idea is enough to have you shunned as an apostate. I genuinely care about her and I would feel similarly if she was having any other radical cosmetic surgery like breast implants or a BBL. At the end of the day, our friends will make their own choices regardless of how we feel about it, and the only thing we can really do is be there for them in the end.

I feel similarly to you in that I don't want to hurt anyone, only to protect people and especially women from the harms that are intrinsic to trans ideology. Unfortunately, you can't help anyone who doesn't want to be helped. Sometimes though, you can play dumb and ask questions that might get them to think a little bit more about the rhetoric they're repeating. For example, I often go out for drinks with coworkers, one of whom is a she/they nonbinary woman. One time she said something about how she couldn't be a full they/them because she's still 'girly' sometimes. I said something like "doesn't it seem kind of regressive to associate how feminine you are with how much of a woman you are? what about butch lesbians?" She didn't have an answer and brushed it off, but I could see the cogs turning a bit. Playing the uninformed normie pointing out the obvious sometimes gets them to realize how twisted the logic in trans echo chambers can be. And I think sometimes expressing your disagreement with the dogma can show your friends, who know you well and know you're a good person, that, contrary to what they've been told, not everyone who disagrees with gender ideology is an evil nazi out to slaughter transwomen in the streets.

But yes, in general, it is very very isolating to hold radical feminist beliefs. I'm sorry you're going through it. One thing to remember is, there are tons of women even in your general vicinity, who like you, don't buy into gender rhetoric but aren't saying anything in order to preserve their safety and social lives. I do believe that as the world seems to be becoming more aware of the reality of the situation, more and more people will feel able to be open about their dissent, and it will become less of a fringe opinion as the flaws in the ideology are exposed. Here's hoping I guess. Keep your chin up anon.

[fizziepopangel]

A Fizziepop Take: Let's talk about Stolas and Blitz's Relationship

There's a lot of controversy surrounding the healthiness of this relationship and because it's one of my favorite ships, I wanna break things down. Let's pop the top on this and get into it!

So to start, we have to look at how our favorite business imp and hellish prince learned about love. That of course starts waaaayyyyy back when with baby Stolas and Blizo before the 'o' was silent.

As children, neither boy was ever given a look at a healthy love, nor were they shown love in appropriate proportions. With the little we know of their backstories as of now, it seems that both boys got love primarily from their mothers while seeing their fathers there but not present.... In fact, their fathers are both portrayed as caring only about what the boys could do for them or what they represented at any given time rather than just caring about the boys as their children, with Paimon not even remembering his own son's name and needing to ask the imp assigned to care for him, and Buckzo actually selling his son off to virtual strangers for the day in hopes of robbing the royal family. While I haven't gotten a clear sense of what happened to their mothers, it seems that both women were removed from their children's lives somewhat early on; therefore taking the boys main source of love with them. Given the father figures they had, neither Blitz or Stolas were ever shown love from a masculine point of view, so they had to navigate that on their own.

Going into the two having to navigate love on their own because of the lack of love from parental figures, Blitz has attempted to look for love at almost every turn. This most likely would've resulted in a sting of relationships that were purely sexual or a sting of failed relationships, with Verosika probably being his longest lasting relationship.... Stolas on the other hand had his future planned for him and was told from his childhood that his future wife was already picked for him so he could sire a cautionary heir when the time came. While Blitz went from lover to lover looking for something without knowing what exactly that something was, Stolas tried to make the best of a marriage in which he was constantly reminded that he was unloved and abused.

Now, this is where I think it get's interesting. As he languished in a loveless marriage, Stolas was conditioned by his narcissistic wife to neglect his own emotional needs in order to keep up with meeting hers while also attempting to be a present father for Via once she was born. After not having experienced adequate familial love, then being shoved straight into a major relationship with someone who found her joy in abusing him physically, psychologically, and emotionally, Stolas believed he was supposed to be unwanted and unhappy. The love he knew was "I have to love my wife because....", and then the parental love between Via and him; a relationship that has also begun to hit the rocks because of Stolas not having an understanding of love and therefore getting lost in the slightest inkling of it with Blitz.

Blitz on the other hand, turned his need for love into something almost selfish. I believe he's afraid to be left alone, so in his mind, it makes the most sense to not let anyone too close and/or to be the first to run if something seems to feel too real. I'm inclined to believe that that's what happened with his relationship with Verosika Mayday since, as Moxxie says in the hallucinations in "Truth Seekers", Blitz has become a master of pushing those who do truly try to care about him as far away from him as impishly possible. With this self-sabotage, I believe he's trying to give people a reason to deem him unworthy of receiving love so that he actively knows why people leave rather than being left to wonder what he did wrong to make people want to leave him. The only people he truly seems mostly comfortable with are Millie, Moxxie, and Loona. Blitz's relationship with M&M is actually really interesting because the lack of boundaries he seems to have when it comes to them is linked to him wanting the kind of love they share but not understanding how to get it or what to do when he does because he's spent so much of his life alone and on the run from love like he's a wanted man.

So, now, we have two grown ass demons who struggle to express love while simultaneously craving it. Putting the two together seems logical at this point, so it wasn't super shocking that the ship became canon, but because neither man can express love properly, almost every move they make together seems toxic in some way, shape, or form. And the relationship already started out in a bad place, because of the agreement that was made. With the agreement in place the way it is, Stolas is in a position where he's holding a power over Blitz, and he knows this because when the agreement is made he is the one that puts it in place. This already gives off a very harsh dynamic between the two, but then you also have to add the fact that Stolas also feels like he is only being used for his grimoire. So now you have Blitz in a position where he feels that he is essentially no better than a blow up doll, and Stolas who feels like he is no more than a means to an end. If you add in the fact that both of these men are very bad at communicating, it makes things worse because there are no boundaries or limits set in place for either of them so neither man knows exactly where he stands or how far forward or backward he can step without changing the dynamic of the relationship completely, which is what we see in "Ozzie's".

In the episode "Ozzie's", we see stolas unintentionally change the dynamic of their relationship by not standing up for Blitz when Asmodeus and Fizz started going in on him. He didn't do it to be an asshole, he did it in a moment of panic and self-preservation. Growing up Stolas was constantly taught that he had an image to uphold, being a Prince of hell and dating or sleeping with an imp, which is one of the lowest classes of demons that we see, doesn't go with that image. Stolas has been shamed his entire life and made to feel insignificant and small, and always told if he was not upholding the family standard he was essentially worthless to them. Even his wife would go out of her way to publicly humiliate him in front of family or friends or whoever would go to the parties that she would throw, so he already felt very very low on that totem pole before Blitz drew attention to the fact that they were there and had a spotlight quite literally shown directly on them.

The issue is that Blitz sees this change in their dynamic as intentional. Given the agreement that they have, Blitz already feels as if he's no better than a sex toy because essentially that is what he has been to this man. He does not believe that Stolas could actually genuinely love him, not only because he believes he doesn't deserve love but also because he understands the difference in their statuses and how their dynamic came to be, so he feels very used and taken advantage of. Despite the fact that he does genuinely have feelings for the prince, Blitz believes he's only good for a good time, and Stolas has not done very much to combat that because all of his advances seem sexual or at least sexually suggestive. Well the advances being sexually suggested or sexually motivated is not completely the prince's fault, it's never something he takes into consideration to see if there are other ways to express a desire for the imp. When every other sentence coming out of the prince's mouth has to do with going to bed with him, and Blitz is given nicknames like "my impish little play thing", it would be hard for him to see how he was wanted for something more than just his body. As I said before though, Stolas is not entirely to blame for this issue with Blitz. Blitz is the one who spurred the advances on the first time, and he never stopped to correct him as their relationship progressed to know stolas believes it's just what he likes, and he'll continue to believe that until Blitz himself tells him otherwise.

Similarly, Blitz does treat Stolas like he is a means to an end. I don't believe it's intentional, because you can see in a lot of different scenes where they're together that Blitz does truly care for this man, but his original plan was just to manipulate Stolas into letting him use the grimoire so that he could perform his business and their entire agreement hinges on that exact thing. Outside of taking him to Ozzie's, Blitz never does ask Stolas on a date, or spend very much time with him outside of the bedroom, and even in that episode the only reason he does is because he has an ulterior motive. In the episode taking place at Ozzie's, I believe Blitz is so fixated on studying and living vicariously through what Moxxie and Millie have together, that he himself was not present with Stolas on the date he invited him to, and despite the prince's best efforts, he's not able to reel him back in until the spotlight is on them and Stolas has the immediate reaction to hide himself from the spotlight while leaving Blitz essentially naked and alone in that moment. The action was never meant to hurt him, but it told Blitz that he was an embarrassment to the prince. It solidified the idea that Stolas was essentially lying to him when he said that he wanted him..... And upon leaving, Blitz is so hurt that he wants nothing to do with the prince for that time, and despite trying to show Blitz how bad he feels, Stolas never actually verbally apologizes to him. After Blitz drops him off at home, and verbalizes that he's not in the mood to have sex with him and tells him that he understands that all they are is fuck buddies, Stolas invites him in and offers cuddles but when Blitz ultimately declines he just says good night, rather than offering it real apology, further solidifying Blitz's thinking but he is not worth the care that it would have shown to have an apology.

As I said in the beginning, I do think it is genuinely just coming down to the fact that neither of these men were ever shown how to care for or love another. Well it's true that they are both raising daughters, who they love unconditionally, everything that they have done for their children has been something they had to pull out of themselves. And they have never done that for each other. I don't think the relationship needs to end, especially not on the note that it did the last time they were together, but I think they both need to mature a little bit more and start understanding the communication that needs to happen between them in order for their relationship to move beyond just sex and heartache. If both Stolas and Blitz are willing to put in the work, and communicate with each other openly I think they could have a very, very healthy and wonderful relationship, which they both very much deserve after everything they've been through.

I definitely trust the process of the writing, but I would absolutely love to see this ship continue to be a thing and thrive, but story-wise I don't think either character is there quite yet. Both demons in question still have a lot of growing to do, but even if that is the case and that is the way the story goes, I don't believe that this is the end of their story together. I feel like these characters will always be drawn to each other, and whether or not there is a pause in their relationship well they take time to figure out their own goals, I believe that both of these men find home in each other and they will always be drawn to that peace.

[cinnbar-bun]

Peaceful Rest

Pairing: Marth x Alear/Reader

Rating: G

Words: 1025

Summary: It has been many years since they had fallen asleep. Marth continues to wait for them, hoping to be reunited with them again. He thinks of them and muses on their relationship. The best he can do for them right now is comfort them to the best of his abilities.

Notes: No major spoilers, nothing crazy at all just Marth wanting them to wake up. It's GN, they're not named, and no physical descriptions of their body is written, so feel free to imagine you, Alear, or your OC if you want. Marth for real the true relationship in Engage lmao.

Can be found on my AO3 right here!

Marth doesn’t know how to comfort them as they rest. He thinks of all the things they had gone through and the incredible pain they had suffered. 

Normally, one would complain about being stuck in this situation, but Marth was a gracious man. He did his best to see the good in everyone and everything, regardless of what was going on. 

He knew they would miss many years of their life, and, admittedly, he too lost track of how many years he had been waiting for them to wake up once more. But that was alright. He had grown to care for and enjoy their company from when they were awake. Even now, their bond was still close enough for him to want to make them feel better. 

Here, he was close enough to notice their brows twitching slightly, as well as a small frown on their face. A sign they were troubled in their sleep. While it was unbecoming of someone of his ranking, he cast that notion aside and stretched his hand to lightly caress their head. 

Marth honestly didn’t know if they could even feel him like that, but their face softened considerably. He assumed that even as a spirit, their bond made their connection more physical than what would have previously allowed. 

With all these assumptions and unsure thoughts in his head, he began to speak again to their dreaming form. He called out their name, like one does to a friend. Or, perhaps, something closer? He hadn’t figured that out yet. All he could know was that he yearned for them to wake up and open their eyes. 

“I wonder what you dream about,” he thoughtfully says. “Do you dream of your memories? Do you dream of the future? Why do you look so afraid of what you see?” 

Well, he has an inkling of an idea why that is, but he wants to confirm it only through their words. 

“Am I there, too? I know, it’s selfish of me to ask, but I wonder if you think of me by your side.” 

He sighs and continues to stroke their head. They remain as still as a statue to his questions. 

“It’s a beautiful evening outside. I think you would have loved it. The stars are just coming out and the sky is full of color. It… it reminds me of you.” 

No response. No movement. 

He’s used to it by now. But he won’t give up no matter how long he must wait. 

“Queen Lumera stopped by. She prayed for you to awaken soon and then she introduced the third steward to take care of you. She’s a funny woman but she has an eye for detail. She started arranging flowers for you, saying they’ll ease your worries in your sleep. I think maybe she is right. You look more peaceful than before.” 

He gazes down at their form, that bittersweet emotion rising within him once more. He knows he should let them rest, that he should let them be- but a selfish part of him wants to see them lively again. He would love to train by their side and listen to their voice. 

Gods, how he would give anything to hear them talk again. 

He truly did not understand how he had taken every little thing about them for granted when they were awake. 

Their eyes, their smile, their laugh, the excited lilt in their voice when they saw something sparkly, and the way they would show all their emotions on their face. 

Seeing them so quiet, so unnaturally still, made him realize just how much they had imprinted themself onto his psyche. If there was anyone he wished to defend and fight for again, it would be them. He would single handedly face an army of thousands in order to see their smile one more time. 

He removed his hand from their head and placed it by his own self. He felt so weak in this situation. Here he was, a powerful hero-king who couldn’t even help the one he cared for so dearly. And here he was, a man who had missed the comfort his partner had brought him. 

But he had to steel himself. He couldn’t falter, nor could he give in to despair. He would wait for them as long as he needed to, even if the world would be destroyed by then. He would wait forever and be the first to greet them as a new dawn approached. 

He gently placed his hand over theirs, and recited a quiet prayer that he had heard the other worshippers say when they saw his partner. 

“I hope my words are reaching you. I will always be by your side. I will come running to you the minute you call out my name. Please rely on me again. Because I… I am truly weak without you.” 

A heavy weight was lifted off his shoulders as he continued. 

“I hope your rest is a lovely one. I hope that when you wake up, we can continue to grow even more alongside each other. I hope that I can ease your worries while you are asleep, so you can live the life you truly wanted when you awaken. We made a promise to one another before and I intend to help you achieve all your dreams, if you’ll allow me that chance.” 

He closed his eyes and let out of a quiet breath he didn’t know he was holding. He quietly whispered their name. 

“I will do my best to support you, dear,” he smiled, keeping these intimate feelings brief. There was so much more he wished to say, but he felt it would be wrong to continue when they were unable to respond to him. 

So, just like the many years before, he would wait for them and give them some comfort while they were resting. He would ease their fears and worries, and make way for pleasant dreams for them to think about. He couldn’t wait to hear all about them when they woke up. 

It would be the best day ever, in his eyes.

[flynndesdelca]

For Day 30 (Cara Mia Addio) of @chelltastic’s Portal Drawtober 2023 Challenge. As I’m not really an artist, I chose to write short pieces for the prompts.

now is there anything that I can do

if there was would we be singing

Finding books to read was difficult, as there were only so many people who even had the things, and so far most of their taste had been terrible.  Chell put down the book she had been attempting to read for the fifth time, sighing to herself.  This wasn't going to work at all.  This book just was not at all interesting, no matter how hard she tried.  She'd even tried reading it while sounding out all of the characters with silly voices in her head, but it just wasn't working.  Whose locker had she gotten it out of? That's right, his name was written inside the book in neat block letters.  P. Reynolds, you had failed her.  For shame.

The mental upbraiding was interrupted by a low, throbbing hmm.  Sometimes the noises GLaDOS would make echoed in a fascinating way, as though the sound was reverberating through the chassis itself.  Thinking noises, when she bothered to verbalize them, were examples of such.  The sound was surprisingly easy on the ears.  It reminded Chell of something else, something from before... she'd gotten inklings of the supercomputer's musical inclination at odd times and in odd places, but only gotten a proper example of it as she had been leaving.  Curiosity rose in her, and an idea formed.  It might not work, but at least it would be more engaging than the book had been.  

Tapping the table once or twice to try to get the AI's attention, Chell waved a hand in the air in a lazy attempt at signing.  Sing me a song.  She only hoped that the meaning would carry across.  

The groan of hydraulics.  Dead silence.  She didn't want to look up, she already could tell she was simply being stared at.  "You'll have to try that again," came the reply at last.  "I don't speak whatever that is."

Fine.  She held up both hands, moving much more slowly in her attempt to make the meaning clearer.  S-I-N-G me a S-O-N-G.  She'd been studying ASL letters in an attempt to actually learn proper signs, so it probably helped when she spelled things out rather than use whatever gesture she felt conveyed her meaning.

"That's what I was afraid you had said," GLaDOS muttered, narrowing her optic.  "Why would you assume that I know the first thing about singing?"

When I left, the turrets were singing.  But turrets don't sing.  You were controlling them.

"Perhaps they were so elated that your vendetta against them was finally coming to an end that they overcame their simple dialogue limiters in order to express that joy," the AI said primly, her optic slowly drifting to the side as though pondering this miraculous development deeply.  

Chell shook her head, pointing at GLaDOS directly.  They only speak English, and that song was definitely not in English.

"Someone's meddling with the turret templates introduced some... irregularities into the turret population."  GLaDOS rolled her optic dramatically.  "It took a long time to weed them out.  Having to interview several hundred turrets individually to find the ones that processed in languages that weren't normally supported was exactly as tedious as it sounds..." Chell crossed her arms firmly.  "Of course, you wouldn't care what language it spoke to you in.  You'd callously drop a weighted storage cube on its head before it even had a chance to say 'hello'."

Turrets don't say 'hello'.

"Yes they do.  You’ve just never actually talked to one.," GLaDOS said smugly.

She chose to ignore that particular jab.  So you found all of the turrets that didn't speak English and instead of incinerating them, you let them live.  

"They could still perform a majority of their functions," GLaDOS explained defensively.

And these turrets somehow got together and managed to create a whole opera.  Chell wasn't certain about how to convey what she wanted to, so she spelled 'opera' out.

"They do tend to be social.  They liked to be in groups," GLaDOS added.  "If you took the time to observe them in their natural habitat rather than callously cutting them down any time one gets in your way, you'd see them frolicking in the meadows together.  Like deer."

That statement was so ludicrous that Chell wasn't even sure where to begin with a reply.  Instead, she pressed on.  All of this of course happened during the time I was unconscious after dealing with Wheatley.

"You were unconscious for quite a while.  They work quickly when they're motivated..." there was definitely an odd posture to the chassis now.  Each statement saw GLaDOS draw back just slightly, like she was being cornered.  Chell wasn't sure if she was going to suddenly be in a great deal of danger, or if she was going to somehow win this argument.

So you pulled me in, interviewed all the turrets, they got together and wrote a whole opera from scratch and practiced it so that it would be perfect and just happened to be hanging out in the elevator shaft waiting for an audience around the time that I woke up and you kicked me out? Chell summarized, slowly and carefully.

"When you say it like that, it does come across as being rather farfetched," GLaDOS said rather pointedly.  For a moment, Chell considered whether she should start eyeing the exits.  "I'm not even sure why you're suddenly following this line of questioning. Are you considering a career change this late in your life? Is that book about a musical?"

No, it's boring as fuck, Chell signed in annoyance.  You were thinking out loud again and it reminded me of stuff.  I liked the song that they sang, though I guess I thought it was you singing it so never mind! She waved her hands back and forth as though dissolving everything she'd just said.  At least she'd been right in the notion that this would be engaging.

"You liked it, even though you didn't understand it?" GLaDOS questioned warily.

It sounded nice.  They were talking about science, I think.  And me.  I'm not sure how turrets would know my name, though, Chell said thoughtfully.  Maybe I should ask them if they will sing it again, for me.

"It wasn't your name," GLaDOS said sharply.  "It was ciel." Almost too late she realized her misstep, and quickly turned away.  "At least, that's what I heard!  It was impossible not to hear it, after all." That got Chell to laugh, which caused her to turn back quickly, optic narrowing.  "Perhaps I did arrange certain things.  It was because you were leaving, and I was glad to see you go.  I'd consider the whole thing null and void because you came back.  It's a failure of a song.  I hope you're happy."

Maybe I'd be happier if you sang me another song about how you're angry that I came back, Chell replied cheekily.  You could use a lot of dirty words and I would never know.

"Or I could just eject you back out via a carefully calculated aerial faith plate," GLaDOS considered.  "Perhaps not.  That would be cruel to the aerial faith plate.  Perhaps you're right, and I should channel my unending bitter rage at the lack of solitude in more constructive ways."  She swayed back and forth as though considering just how to apply herself.  "Well, that was constructive.  You'll forgive me if I don't assemble a whole chorus of turrets, but since you decided you aren't leaving you're not worth more than a solo."

I suppose I'll live.  Chell feigned disappointment.  She was curious just how a computer could sing.  It shouldn't be a question, because obviously GLaDOS could talk just as easily as anything else there, but the idea of an actual song, especially given that the last one through the synthesized voices of turrets had been really good, was exciting.  Even if it was just a song cussing her out in a language that she didn't know.  She sat back on the floor, winding her arms around her knees for support and listened.

[magicalgirlfia]

Some Dome Octarian Society Headcanons

Honestly we only see the military side of the dome dwelling Octarians and it really makes me wonder what their society must be like.

We really don’t see much about what life is like outside of just stuff about the army and I wanted to base this off the fact that nobody is in the wrong and that “everyone is just doing their own thing”.

The most valued occupations are STEM careers, especially those who work in engineering and technology.

Militants and medical professionals are a close second followed by musicians, composers, and artists, most of whom receive support from the government to create music and art for them (ex; Turquoise October making Octotronica and the propaganda we see in the sunken scrolls)

Most octarians are pushed to and do chose their careers from a very young age. After or during their equivalent to middle/secondary school octarians usually do internship style programs instead of a traditional schooling, thus why there are so many child soldiers.

All schools are funded by the government and so they are where a lot of propaganda and nationalism are instilled in people.

Marina is a special case and was able to skip most/all of the required schooling and go straight to an internship program due to her intelligence.

Many of the octarians who live in the domes as of around ME2022 have chosen to be there for one reason or another. For example, while some octarians are still conditioned to be loyal to the army, some have genuine loyalties to Octavio, some are pressured by tradition or a feeling of obligation, and some people just don’t want to leave because they have lives there. Nevertheless, post ME2018 the Octarian domes have many fewer inhabitants than usual.

Lots of their infrastructure is built off of the skeletons of the formerly flooded old human dome cities which have been built upon almost beyond recognition.

Octarian anthologists know a lot more about about human society due to this and they became so advanced due to the fact that they could somewhat build off already existing technology. This is why the Sunken Scrolls contain so much information about the Splatoon universe pre mollusk era- they’re written by the octarians.

Biological family is not something with a big focus, especially when many of the members of society have been created through asexual reproduction. They raise kids with a “it takes a village to raise a child” mindset.

Although there are special cases where children will be raised by one specific person or multiple people, they aren’t necessarily the kids biological parent(s)

Later on in life this applies to the group that someone chooses to work with, as they usually have to live and work in close proximity to each other and form strong familial friendships with one another.

Blackouts are a regular occurrence and most of the population keeps a lot of candles at hand for emergencies. It’s very difficult to create renewable energy due to the fact that things like sun, wind, and weather have to be artificially created.

This is due to the amount of electricity that is presumably used on Octavio’s weapons. And also raves. Like chill out dude.

But I digress. Due to that, power eggs are some of the only sustainable and reliable energy sources which is why keeping good relations with the Salomonids is absolutely essential.

Due to their close relation, a good chunk of the population knows the salmonid language or have at least heard terms in it before. It’s not the majority of course but it’s more than you’d expect, especially considering that not many will actually ever interact with them.

I think that styles based off of poppy/preppy ME2017 inkling fashion are very popular with rebellious teenagers.

That’s all I have right now. Maybe I’ll come up with more in the future and also maybe I won’t.

[cornspiracies]

It's been abit since I've posted fantroll work, and now seems like a good time to announce that I will no longer be posting or interacting with the fantroll community on tumblr. If you followed me for that content, I appreciate it, and hope you find similar interest in my other work.

Along with that, I'd like to open a window into my issues with the community if only for myself. I have no interest in a debate so if it strikes a nerve feel free to vague post in your own space, but leave me out of it HAHA.

I'll start by saying that there are good people in the community, but sadly they're drowned out by a majority of bad apples. The complaints I have are a part of every community in some way, but when your community is maybe 50 people, if we're being generous, it becomes a much bigger issue.

I came back to the fantroll rp community in order to heal, I wanted to go back to my roots and find some joy in a space that ultimately helped shape me into who I am. I wanted comfort, I did not find that.

Nobody is perfect, and I've surely made mistakes along the way. I made a personal promise to drop people that give red flags, but failed to go through with it for the sake of others.

I'm a person with a lot of interest who moves around often because I want to try new things, so I've been in a lot of communities, but this is the only one I've ever had to make a boundaries page for, and even when I did it was ignored multiple times.

Beyond that, I've had people who don't even have my discord lie about me despite never speaking to me. I've had rude ask sent to me over taking money from other's who need it more because I chose to sell adopts while having a job. And. While I've never had a community wide group chat to shittalk me, I've seen it done to others by people that are supposed to be their close friends. Among all this is even more questionable behavior. Scammers, and suspect artwork, all of that.

I think it's very funny that this community tries so hard to seperate itself from the homestuck community as a whole while the members of it wrap their identity deeply around it. I just wanted somewhere to play around in Alternia's worldbuild but had to defend my what is pretty lenient canon compliance. 😅 Not even because of homestuck's problematic aspects, but just because someone thinks theyre a better writer.

I could go on for hours, but it's really not worth it to think about past this. All I'll say is that if you're unhappy in this community, even an inkling. There are better places. There's a reason everytime I look back here I found the community members have switched over to almost entirely new faces. That is not typical for other long lived spaces.

[knowltonsrangers]

theoretically pt.9

[first , prev ] [female reader]

[//tw: swearing, guns, death and blood ahead\\ also angst]

By all means, you should have been fine.

Continually failing at trying to peel the knot apart which currently held your wrists hostage, you silently cursed at such a simple thing that just would not go your way.

You weren’t asking much, realistically speaking. Tossed on horseback, greedily speeding miles away from the beach, you were certain that whenever Caleb and the Major returned, they would likely follow the shoreline, in the opposite direction.

The skies had quickly clouded, and with little warning, the rain pounded against the Earth, drenching your clothes and your hopes that someone would find your clue.

“Identify yourself!”

You physically jump, startled at how fast they had approached your hiding spot. Though one could argue you weren’t really doing a great job at the feat, silently praying they wouldn’t venture any further.

“Ah, fuck—“ There wasn’t much to do other than oblige, so you stand on shaky legs and throw your hands up, hoping that the ‘I surrender’ mentality would save yourself here.

“Don’t shoot!” When you move your arms, your hand brushes the pocket that concealed the knife. Inwardly groaning, you can hear the metal hit the ground with an aggressive thud. For once, you find a moment to think rationally, you use the toe of your sneaker to draw an arrow in the sand.

They’ll likely take you the way they came from, one could hope.

“I’ve been stranded here,”

You begin talking straight nonsense, begging words that seemed an inkling of believable to fall from your lips.

“Miss, this is really no place for a lady to reside,”

When they finally arrive right in front of you, they lower their weapons, seemingly unanimously agreeing that you were no perceivable threat.

That kind of hurt, for some reason.

“Sorry for the binds, but we are on strict orders to take anyone or anything in that comes onto that beach,”

Your nose wrinkles, opting to not say anything at all. If you hadn’t dropped that fucking knife-

“That area is a known smugglers destination, ma’am.”

The younger one speaks, the one who’s currently sat behind you on the horse. His red sleeves are the only thing you can see of him, but as the sun would soon begin to rise, you would dare to take a glance back at his features.

“Your silence is proving you guilty,”

The older one chides now, but not by much.

“If I told you what really happened, you wouldn’t believe me,”

You whisper, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Subconsciously, you never wanted these guys to see you cry, but the frustration was starting to eat away at you. It was all building so fast, that the world started to spin, and as if it was nothing, it all stopped.

“You have permission to speak it, so I may relay it to the Lieutenant when we arrive back to camp.”

You roll your eyes, a sarcastic “Gee, thanks,” bubbling in your throat, but you remembered instantly what Caleb had told you.

"I promise, even if you come 'cross some lobsterbacks, they wouldn't harm a lady. Just say ya got lost, and ask for the Captain or Major. They'd be able to help you."

His index finger comes to his lips, as if he's about to disclose a secret.

"Jus' don't mention anything about the camp, alright? Yer a patriot now, y/n, don't go switchin' sides."

Maybe you should bide your time the best you could, stretching it until there was no more room to give.

“Lieutenant?” You warble, sniffling slightly.

“Yes, that is who we report to. Anyone else you wish to speak with is denied, until further information is provided.”

You sigh, straightening your shoulders as well as you could, positioned in between the officers arms.

“What if we are headed in the completely wrong direction?”

It’s a very good question, one that every time it arose in his thoughts, he pushed back away. Becoming increasingly irritated, the blonde sighed, pushing away some flyaways from his forehead as they entered deeper into the woods.

“That is a very good possibility.” Is all he can reply, having a bit more incentive to get to you before you slip up, now having knowledge of the camp and that the General was stationed there.

He trusted that you would keep those secrets, but he did not know what level of…ill treatment you could take before the words came racing out of your mouth.

“So why didn’t we split up? Coulda met back there in a coupla hours.”

“I am hoping we are going the right way.”

If Caleb knew he was being very annoying, he was doing an excellent job at it.

“But what if we aren’t—“

“Caleb, please—“

And before he can say another word, there’s a rustle of something, wet leaves underfoot as silhouettes cast shadows in the daybreak.

“Shut up, please.” Ben asks, voice almost nothing as they both drop to a crouch behind some shrubbery, a couple hundred feet off. Although capable of seeing them, they were unable to hear what was being exchanged.

From the looks of it though, you had them right where you wanted them. They had halted their riding, the two horses idling as you stood next to a tree, arms bound but within reach. Your mouth was moving, and the two soldiers appeared to be at least satiated with whatever you were saying.

“See? She’s fine,”

Caleb hums, nudging the Major in the ribs. Ben turns to look at him so quickly he’s sure he’s just given himself whiplash.

“If I remember correctly,” He gravels, voice a bit elevated.

“I was the one consoling you,”

“Nah, I don’t remember that.”

Ben watches you carefully, and as if he willed it, your eyes made brief contact with his, looking just past the two officers. Nearly doing a double take, your eyes jump wide, but dart back to the taller man, so you wouldn’t give up their location.

You begin talking, your mouth moving once more but he’s unable to read exactly what you are saying. Catching your unexplainable surprise in what lies so far out into the trees, the shorter man spins around, scanning the horizon for something out of the ordinary.

Just as Ben turns to Caleb, ready to devise some sort of plan, you begin to shriek, piercing screams echoing through empty space as if it was amplified by a thousand.

The one redcoat, the one who was scouting, visibly jumps, turning to face you with a mixture of surprise and anger on his face, while the other attempts to figure out what was causing the screams.

“There was a spider on me!”

Ben will never be sure if there really was one on you, but Caleb audibly laughs, taking the opportunity that was so easily given to them.

Now, completely occupied and unable to console your loud cries, the two make a break for it and cross the remaining yards with ease.

“Hands up,”

Though the click of his flintlock pistol is satisfying, shoving the barrel directly between the man's shoulder blades, the willingness to squeeze the trigger is almost antagonizing. Caleb followed suit to the other officer, eyes trained on you, as if any more movement would cause you harm.

They both hesitantly raise their arms, making no move to agitate the situation further. Ben briefly wonders how you've so quickly wound your way around Caleb's finger, but then again, he'd be lying if you didn't have the same effect on him.

You offer a watery smile, fervently shaking the legs of your pants one last time, shrugging your shoulders as the two men look fixedly at you, shocked nonetheless at your stratagem.

What did nonplus you so much was that they both fired their weapons, and you watch in horror as both bodies crumble lifelessly to the ground.

Both horses, now spooked, take off in a direction that Benjamin doesn't quite care to take note of.

Something that he wishes he never saw was the look in your eyes, the panic and trepidation as if you couldn't really believe what you just saw.

"They didn't do nothin' to ya, did they?"

Caleb is first to break the stalemate, shoving his gun back into the loop on his belt, and stepping around one of the bodies to get closer to you. Smoke clearing, Ben slowly lowers his weapon, eyes impotent to leave yours and feet rooted to the dirt.

"N-no," You shuffle awkwardly, weight shifting back and forth between your feet and now unable to meet either of the men's gaze.

"M'sorry I left...you alone..."

The brunette watches the Major, then his eyes bolt back to you. He's piecing something together in his mind, and before he can say it, Benjamin beats him to it.

"We need to go."

"Ben-" Caleb starts, his hand reaching out to touch your arm, but recoils it back when he realizes the blood that splatters across it.

"Sorry." Is all that can fall from his mouth.

"I-" You swallow thickly, still staring at the ground, just shy of the two bodies.

"It's fine. Thank you.”

It's a whisper, and your gut is screaming at you to run as far away as you can from here, mind reeling at the events that unfolded so quickly yet in slow motion all at the same time.

"What are…er, what are are we gonna do now?"

Ben's silence is agonizing, so you take it upon yourself to fill the quiet.

"Maybe we should...part ways."

Caleb immediately repulses at such an idea, and when he looks to Ben once more for concurrence, he's met with the nauseating truth.

"No, not a chance in hell."

You had said it so maybe Benjamin would remove that tape from his tightly pressed lips. You were so numb to the events that you could not offer anything more than a suggestion to leave.

In reality, the disgust that was eating him up inside was the reasoning behind it all. He would never be able to wipe that look you gave him from his memory, as hard as he might try. His subconscious now had complete control of his actions, and it did nothing but render him speechless.

He wanted you to stay, with him. But articulating that after you just watched him kill a man was downright impossible. He wasn't thinking right, and that was his problem.

"y/n,"

Clearing his throat, you finally tear your gaze away from the ground, blinking up at him expectingly, and it's then he catches the glint in your eyes.

"We will take you back to camp, and you will remain in my tent until nightfall. At that time, I will then personally escort you to the camp line, and from there you will do as you wish."

Caleb opens his mouth to protest, but you purse your lips, pulling some hair away from your eyes.

"Yes, Major."

You were nothing but trouble. It was a thought that had crossed your mind while doing much more than mildly inconveniencing these men just trying to do their duties. You landed in the middle of a war, this was no time to laugh or make fast quips to bargain your time.

This whirlwind dream had just really turned into a nightmare, and for all you know, the moment you cross those camp lines, your fate was in the hands of a time you never knew to call your own.

"Now hold on just a fuckin' second."

"I just said-"

"When have you ever known me to listen? I'm the reason we're standin' right here in the first place!"

He shouts, and Ben finally holsters his flintlock, something you take notice of that he hadn't done yet. The blonde grabs his upper arm, not harshly, but enough to tug him away to whisper something in his ear.

"If you're calling me a bitch, you can do that in front of me."

You call, at long last moving away from the officers, all the while brushing runaway tears from your cheeks. It was fair enough, you in the least deserved some name-calling for the unbridled mess you unknowingly just created.

"Nah, but I won't repeat what he said, cause no lady should ever have to hear such a mouth." Caleb shoves him off.

The three of you exchange glances, and finally, you've had enough. The silent scream you release is more-so for yourself versus for effect, fierce enough that your hands ball into fists and your eyes squeeze shut.

"Y'alright?'

After a good moment, you finally nod.

"I had thought maybe it would wake me up because this isn't fun anymore. I hate being here, I hate all of this. Just please. Take me back to camp, and let me pack a fucking bag, and let me leave."

Ben falters, mouth opening then closing, words fighting to his throat but all he can offer is a noise of approval. You cross your arms, shuffling past Ben as you start off towards the shore, leaving the duo standing, jarred.

"I hope you're happy," The brunette snuffs, watching you go for a second.

"Part of this was my fault, but this is all your fault."

Caleb gives him one more shove for good measure, and starts off after you, calling your name, but you make no move to slow your pace.

If he could find his voice, he'd scream just as loud as you.

[ghostcrows]

Tumblr cmon put my freaking readmore back 😑😑

i think itd be nice to be able to be more 'openly' nonbinary (i talk about it sometimes or i mention it but thats different from really letting other people in on what at this point i consider a private experience for the sake of my own self preservation) but i feel i have to be outwardly rigid not only to the outside cis world but also the trans world because i always have this feeling that others want to detrans me without calling it that. which could totally be paranoid and irrational but its how i feel. they want me to continue broadcasting even an inkling of connection to the remnants of my innocence womanhood so they can feel good. and every part of me says, no matter who you are, im not doing a single thing for your comfort. unfortunately the cis world also has major problems with many aspects of my not actually gone forever into the ether femininity, or my masculinity as it passively translates into femininity from the other side of the equation (every excess on one side is an absence on the other), so it becomes this weird very much internal mental back and forth where i feel like i have to be seven steps ahead of everyone

and once youre nonbinary in a more than just incidental way you might as well start introducing yourself genitals first again, because if you cant be categorized into one gendered ~experience~ or another then nobody knows what to do with you politically or which specific ways in which to treat you badly

I just feel sometimes like 😑 there was once a window where I felt comfortable to explore that side of me and "play around" like I see others do but the ship has sailed now. Which is so stupid because yeah I can do whatever I want I know that. But too many things just make me feel like I can't let other people in in that way. Like you can feel yourself getting mentally sorted into whichever someone else finds more convenient in real time so why should I make that easier to do. Even the stuff like fagdyke etc, the putting two 'contradictory' labels together - you already know people r only seeing you as one of them, whichever you're pouring more into yk. Just sucks. Stupid cringe ass gender world