#i want to hear what people think so badly

[pacofprunes]

THIS GIRLS JUST GOTTA BE KISSED

SUMMARY — you stress over him due to how stupid he can be sometimes. you express this to him but his ears aren’t on. all he can do is think how badly he has to kiss you.

watch this to understand the kiss.

PAIRING — daegil x reader (tazza hidden card)

WARNINGS — this is fluff! there’s like one mention of death and use of the word suicide but it’s not sad.

“gosh daegil, you’re so…”

“handsome?”

“i was going to say stupid.”

he pouts at you before going back to playing with his lighter.

“i’ll be done soon, okay? i just gotta close some ties first…”

“and when will that be, daegil? when you’re laying in your coffin from getting too involved with this stupid gambling shit?”

he stills, pausing his flicking of his lighter and you drop your head on the table. you close your eyes against the cold table and mess with your hair in one hand. the bang from your head meeting the table causes daegil to snap his head up.

“i don’t want you to die over some money.”

you mumbled that. you hear steps being taken toward you before a hand meets your shoulder, causing you to lift your head and make eye contact with daegil. he rubs his hand on your shoulder before giving you a small smile.

“i promise i’ll quit soon.”

you just sigh and look back down. soon wasn’t good enough. he had so many people praying on his downfall. he could die tomorrow just by going on a walk to the store. he lets out a huff before kicking the leg of the chair that you were sitting in, almost making it tip over before you grip the table and pull yourself back up.

“what the heck daegil?”

he lets out a laugh. his laugh was definitely a funny one, very contagious. it was a silly childish laugh that had you holding in your own and finally you let it out, your own laugh following his.

“it’s good to have validation that you think i’m funny.”

“no, but your laugh is.”

he crosses his arms over each other and sends a pout your way and you wave him off before standing and moving past him to go outside and get some air and he follows quickly behind you. for a moment you just stare into the sky before turning around to look up at him and you sigh, moving your hands to your hips.

“you ever think i maybe wanted some space?”

“do you own the sky?”

you give him a small laugh and look down at his chest.

“you know you didn’t come out here to look at the sky.”

you feel him shift a little and you lift your head from his chest see him looking up at the sky before he put his head down to see you looking up at him.

“i just was though, wasn’t i?”

you just roll your eyes and turn around, your back facing him again and he moves to stand beside you, the wind sending chills up his back and he shakes his head a little. his normally calm hair looking messy. he looks over at you now and oh god, you were absolutely stunning. standing in the moonlight with your hair blowing through the wind, he wishes he could take a picture. you feel his hand glide against your cheek as he moves your face over to look at him. oh how your eyes were so pretty, especially in this lighting. he could get lost in them.

“is there something you need sir?”

he scoffs before dropping his hand from your cheek and looking at you like you’re crazy.

“sir?”

you ignore him and change the topic quickly.

“i’m not happy with you right now which is why i came outside, you can go now.”

you give him a sarcastic smile, raising your eyebrows before turning away from him again, facing the street now. after a long while of silence you speak up again.

“you can be a ‘hustler’ without being an idiot on a suicide mission.”

“so it’s still about that?”

you let out a groan and just ignore him. he was clearly incapable of understanding how you felt. he looks up at the sky before scoffing and shaking his head, thinking of his next move. he knew he wasn’t going to listen to you and he knew he wasn’t going to stop gambling right now. he couldn’t, so you’d be mad at him for awhile. he hums to himself in thought and you look over to try and get a good look at him before he catches notice of you, but he immediately snaps his head over your way and smirks, causing you to look the other way. a light blush paints your cheeks.

“your pupils were pretty big there. you must think i’m just great.”

he’s found a new mission. if you’re just going to stay angry and bicker with him or ignore him, he’s just going to make you talk to him. he looks back at the sky hoping for an idea of what he should do next, and that’s when the idea comes to his head. when you’re not looking he looks over at you a little and smirks.

he looks back up at the sky, mouthing thank you to the stars as if they gave him his idea and he turns his body to you and you look up at him with confusion before he pulls you into his arms and presses a kiss to your lips. he bends his knees as he dips you, having a hold on the back of your head. you have to gather yourself before you can even reciprocate back. cupping the side of his face and pressing your forehead to his. he moves his lips away from yours but still has you dipped low to the ground. as you open your eyes, your sparkling orbs meet his, causing his heart to pause its motion before a shy yet cheeky grin forms on his face.

“you can’t be too mad at me now.”

you roll your eyes and bite the inside of your cheek before you start to blush a little, suddenly embarrassed at the proximity. you look directly into his eyes and it causes him to gain an even deeper blush on his. he pulls you up from the dip, but still has a hold on you, keeping you close to him and you press your face against his chest as you hold onto the sides of his arms.

“i really can be mad still.”

he frowns before you look up at him and you cup his cheek again.

“but i guesssss for now i’ll leave it be.”

he presses another kiss against your lips and you can feel his smile against you before he finally pulls away and pulls you back into him for a tight suffocating hug.

“you just can’t stay mad at me, can you?”

you pull away and give him a warning look before he starts spewing out apologies and patting your back and you just laugh. there was a lot of things you two needed to fix, and a lot of things to be mad at him for, but you can’t dwell on things forever. for now you’ll indulge in him instead of staying so mad. besides, why would you punish yourself for his stupid actions? just because he doesn’t know how to make smart decisions doesn’t mean you have to deprive yourself from his touch. you feel like a babysitter sometimes and honestly, he’s probably taking years off of your life from his stupidity and childlike antics. but at least they’ll be some of the best years you’d ever have.

[sirfrogsworth]

The Anger Returned

This is probably the most hurtful and infuriating paragraph I've ever read...

"As for taking care of dad. We offered many times to find a place for you and dad to live closer to us so that we could take dad to his appointments and have some skilled care available. He didn't want to leave you at the house alone, so my wife searched high and low for a place that could take both of you. Dad was open to moving closer to us and had said he would have done so on several occasions but you were unwilling to give up the house and ultimately dad said no based on your opposition to moving and that you both would remain at the house. You make it sound like you were taking on this burden to relieve the pressure off me, but in reality this was the only way to retain the house for you after dad's passing. Because if you were unable to care for Dad the current situation would be very different."

That is one of the last things my brother said to me way back in August of 2023.

I don't understand how two people can be so oblivious to what is involved in taking care of a dying person.

Taking him to his appointments was probably the easiest part. And that is what they were willing to personally contribute.

And "skilled care"? What does that mean? A nurse? House cleaning?

Within my dad's budget, we could have maybe afforded someone to come a few times per week. That would have been almost no help to me at all. Plus, they could have sent "skilled care" to this house. Why was that dependent on moving closer?

It feels like they think appointments and having someone come over for a few hours here and there is all it took to care for my father.

But accusing me of wanting to stay put so I could "retain the house."

I still don't know how to process that anger.

It repeats in my head in a loop. Sometimes I will forget about it for a few weeks. Maybe a month. And then tonight it just started looping in my head again.

First, my dad lied. He kinda screwed me. He probably didn't know he was screwing me. But he did not want to leave this house. He was surrounded by my mom's things. He thought her spirit was still here. He talked to her at night when he was trying to fall asleep. I don't think he knew I could hear him.

Oh, and he threatened to kill himself if we tried to move him out of this house. So there was that, too.

But he lied and blamed it on me so my brother would stop pressuring him to move. I get it. But it gave my brother an excuse to blame me. A way to justify away his guilt. Sure, he was only 45 minutes away. But if he were only 5 minutes away, that would have somehow solved everything.

My dad couldn't go to a nursing home because he was neglected so badly in rehab (which is a nursing home) that he had to call the police on them. He said "I'll die before I go back to one of those places."

And the fact they were even considering that just shows you how out of touch they were with the situation.

And, yes, I didn't want to move. That is true. But it had nothing to do with "retaining the house." I thought the stressful process of moving would kill my dad. And I asked the doctor what moving could do to my dad's health and he said, without hesitation, "Oh yeah, that would have killed him."

Beyond that, they had no plan. They didn't say how we were going to get our belongings out of the house. How were we supposed to handle the realtor or open houses? It took me months to configure this place to my dad's needs. Were they going to help me do that in a tiny apartment? Were they going to find my dad new doctors and a new pharmacy?

I built an entire infrastructure around this house to take care of my dad. They talk about all this work they did googling apartments but they did no research or planning on how to actually move us. Was that up to me? Was I supposed to figure all that out while giving him 24/7 care?

I was watching a new show called The Pitt and it had a woman taking care of her elderly mom. And she was so overwhelmed she abandoned her at the ER. And I started crying because that is so real. Taking care of a dying person is nonstop stress.

I had to watch my dad go to the bathroom every single time to make sure he didn't fall. Which meant I never slept through the night.

Not once.

I slept on a mattress on the floor next to the hallway so every time he got up, I would wake up. And if he fell, I would pick him up. In the final few months he could not tuck himself back into bed. So 4 times per night I had to get up, watch him pee, arrange his pillows so they supported his back, pull up the covers, and then tuck them under the pillows so they wouldn't move. He was so uncomfortable all the time and that was the only way he could fall asleep.

And those were the *easy* days.

The hard days involved cleaning up pee and poop. Sometimes blood. Sometimes mystery fluids. Before I got the special lifting device, if he fell, I had to literally drag him to his electronic reclining chair so we could use the footrest to help get him up again. I once had to drag him through two rooms and hurt my back for a week. I probably should have called EMS, but I didn't know my back would go out until it was too late.

And then there were the delirium days where he talked and didn't make any sense. How do you take care of someone you can't communicate with? He had a dead toe that needed lotion applied. Nearly made me puke every time. And then there was the time the urologist had to open up his urethra. With a metal spike. My dad screamed so loud I nearly had a panic attack. Every person in that office heard him scream.

But I think his depression was probably the hardest to deal with. He had a son that never spoke to him. Never visited. And a granddaughter he only met a few times. He cried himself to sleep so many nights. Sometimes it was so bad I had to lie with him in bed and just rub his back until he fell asleep. He was so lonely without my mom. And I tried to be good company, but I was often too tired to give him any attention beyond his care.

When things were hardest he would get suicidal. And considering his quality of life, I didn't blame him. Sometimes I regret keeping him alive as long as I did. He was ready to go as soon as he lost his wife. But we both held out hope my brother would wake the fuck up and realize there was not much time to make amends. To say goodbye. To install core memories of my dad in his daughter's mind. So she'd at least have one grandparent to remember.

It never happened and I feel guilty for letting him live so long in misery when deep down I knew that hope was foolish.

That's the kind of shit no one knows or thinks about when it comes to caregiving. The easy days are hard and the hard days are impossible and you feel awful for feeling overwhelmed because you aren't the one miserable and dying. Dialysis is nearly barbaric.

For over a year, I barely slept at night. And the only time I could get uninterrupted sleep was when he was at dialysis. So the only time I ever had to myself, I had to use sleeping so I wouldn't burn out.

Hiring a "skilled worker" does nothing to help me with that. And no nursing home is going to give him that kind of care.

Only love can give someone that kind of care.

My brother doesn't think I saved him from any burden by taking care of my dad. I just wish I could figure out a way to show him just how incorrect that is.

If I refused to take care of my dad and left it all in my brother's hands, he would have put him in a nursing home and burned through all of my dad's money in a few months. Then he'd either have to pay for his care or take him in.

Was he going to watch my dad pee 4 times a night and tuck him in?

Those who have never taken care of someone like this... have you ever thought deeply about what is involved? Does your common sense tell you it is a little more than driving to appointments and hiring a "skilled worker"?

Why does my brother (and my uncles) think so little of my efforts?

I honestly thought it was common knowledge that taking care of a dying person was super duper hard.

It was the hardest thing I will ever do. And the thing I am most proud of accomplishing. And for some reason I still want my brother to say thank you. I don't know how to find closure without that gratitude. And I'm pretty sure it will never happen.

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

The Island: Entry 1

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

A Lost AU

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Gore, Violence, Swearing, Death, Alcohol, Plane Crash, Various Inaccuracies

Authors note and TW: This story does depict a plane crash in quite a lot of it so please be aware 💛 especially now with all of the recent accidents worldwide, just wanting to put an extra precaution out there so as not to surprise or upset anyone!

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18+ Only

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A roaring sound roused Bradley from a dream, a dream where he was souring through the air in his favourite F/A-18, the sunset beautifully cast along the ocean below, someone behind him lovingly squeezing his shoulder, someone he longed for but whom didn’t know yet.




The roaring sound blared loudly even from far away, and Bradley strained to open his eyes, the bright light burning his sensitive retina. He covered his eyes as he sat up, his bed hard and lumpy, and he blinked several times to adjust.




Suddenly he realised his bed wasn’t a bed after all, but a stony jungle floor, matted with rotting leaves and sand and soil.




Bradley looked around, confused and dazed and trying to find the source of the horrible noise. He was surrounded by trees and the stark stench of leaf rot, the faint smell of the sea and… jet fuel.




He realised suddenly that the roaring wasn’t even that, it was a whirring, the sound of a jet engine struggling to keep itself in the air. But was it in the air?




By the volume and steadiness of the sound Bradley could only think the engine was no longer in the sky, and he scrambled to his feet as vague memories began to come back to him.




His leg was badly bruised and he thought he may have a broken rib or two, but he scrambled through the jungle as fast as his body would take him, the noise growing louder.




As he neared, he began to hear screaming, so much screaming, now just audible over the jet roar as the thick of the jungle turned to sparse bush, and Bradley fought to keep himself composed, braving himself for what he might see.




The beach was long and windy, blue ocean stretched on for what seemed like forever, and Bradley quickly realised he wasn’t on any sort of mainland. Bodies littered the white sand and the front of the plane, pinned onto its side by a boulder, sat ablaze, towering, the engine angrily trying to keep itself alive.




Bradley took but a split second to take in the damage, panic so close to taking hold, when he spotted Jake Seresin crawling out of the sea, coughing and spluttering as he collapsed to the sand.




He ran over to him, quickly helping his friend further up onto the sand and away from the water.




“Hangman…” was all Bradley could get out.




Jake coughed again, taking deep, painful breaths as he lay on his back. “Where’s…” another cough, “where’s everyone else?” He just barely murmured over the noise.




Bradley knew he meant the rest of the boys they had been travelling with.




Bob, Javy, Reuben and Mickey.




“I don’t know… I’ll be back.” Bradley left Jake to gain his strength as he stumbled to his feet, wincing at the pain in his side.




He took a second to watch the chaos, people screaming over lost loved ones, running to get as far from the wreckage as they could before it inevitably exploded, others helping the injured, or rescuing suitcases from inside the burning hull.




He walked closer to the plane, hoping to recognise someone, anyone, when the sun glinted against a familiar pair of glasses.




“Bob!” Bradley cried hoarsely.




Bob couldn’t hear him, too close to the engine, helping a woman free her leg from a heavy metal beam.




“Bob!” Bradley called louder this time, “You gotta move!”




Bob lifted his head and relief washed over him as his eyes landed on Bradley.




“Help me move her!” Bob called, and Bradley hesitantly eyed up the wing of the plane that hovered and bowed treacherously over Bob’s head.




“Fuck.” Bradley mumbled to himself as he limped quickly towards Bob, dropping to his knees with a wince once by his side.




After a quick assessment of the situation, the leg pinned and pierced to the ground, Bradley grabbed Bob’s shoulder.




“We gotta dig her out, and we gotta do it quick, this thing’s about to collapse.”




Bob nodded and the pair began to dig into the sand beneath the woman’s injured thigh, little by little lowering her leg out of the bar that pierced through it.




The wing groaned under its own weight and the breeze that tormented it, threatening to snap off at any second, the sound mingling with the woman’s agonising cries.




“Faster!” Bradley grunted as he cupped the sand and threw it to the side with a speed that left him dizzy, the movements worsening the pain he was in.




The woman screamed as her leg slid off the bar and blood sprayed out, covering Bob and Bradley. They hooked their arms in hers quickly, shuffling backwards in the sand to pull her to safety.




Barely out from beneath the shadow of the wing, a large creak and snap echoed across the beach as the wing buckled under its own weight, plummeting with a deafening crash onto the ground below.




Bob and Bradley watched in horror mere feet away. Even a couple of seconds more and they would have met their untimely end.




Bradley was having a hard time coming to to grips with the situation, barely even able to remember what had happened before the crash, and he felt dazed.




“Rooster, Bob!” Another familiar voice rang out, Reuben.




The pair sighed with some sort of relief as the tall man helped them to their feet, pulling them in for a hug.




“Shit guys, I thought you were gone.” Reuben’s voice cracked, audible even over the chaos.




“We… we need to move her to the shade, see if there are any doctors or…” Bob stopped to wipe blood from his face, staring at his hand in shock.




“Yeah, help me move her.” Bradley winced as he bent down to hook his arms under the unconscious woman’s armpits. Bob carefully hooked his arms under her good leg and they haphazardly carried her to the trees.




Placing her gently down, Bradley left Bob with her so he could try and find someone who could help.




Bob was already prepping a tourniquet with some fabric and a stick, and he spotted Jake and Reuben by the shore, turning bodies over and trying to separate the dead from the living, helping where they could.




Javy and Mickey were nowhere to be seen, but there were so many people, dead and alive, scattered across the sand, that it would be difficult to differentiate faces, especially in the state he was in.




People screamed through the pain of broken limbs and burns and cuts and his eyes drew him across the beach, scanning over as many faces as he could, and that’s when he spotted you, down in the distance.




You were beautiful but frantic, hair a mess and clothes bloodied, as you tied a piece of ripped fabric carefully around a little boys arm to stop him from bleeding.




You winced as the boy cried, Bradley couldn’t hear you but he could see you apologising, telling the boy you had to tie it tight for just a little while.




Without realising he was moving, Bradley began to stumble over to you, stepping over discarded suitcases and debris, the deafening sound of the engine mangled painfully with the agony in the voices of people crying for help in the jungle and at the shore.




“You’re gonna be okay… you’re gonna be okay.” You mumbled, unsure of yourself, as you stroked the little boys head, “I’m gonna find your mom, you just need to stay here. Okay? By this tree.”




The boy wailed inconsolably, dirty face streaked with tears.




Bradley winced as he knelt down next to you, forcing a smile at the little boy, “Wow, look at you! You’re so brave, you’re gonna have a cool scar to show off to your friends real soon.”




The little boy slowly stopped crying and looked up at Bradley curiously. You did the same, taking a second to breathe as he spoke.




“You can tell people you fought off a tiger.” Bradley winked, and the little boy began to giggle.




You eyed Bradley up suspiciously but we’re also relieved to have some help.




“Hey, you stay here, I just gotta borrow your friend for a moment okay?” The boy nodded and Bradley struggled to his feet, clutching briefly at his side. You looked at the blood on his t-shirt, wondering how badly he was injured.




“Oh… it’s… it’s not me.” He winced again, one eye closed as he fought through a wave of pain, “There’s a lady up there with a through-and-through pole wound to her leg, there’s a lot of blood but one of my guys has got her in a makeshift tourniquet. I guess I was hoping you’re a doctor?” He asked anxiously.




You nodded, “Well… not a people doctor, I’m a Veterinarian.” You had been in practice for 5 years, but you were still always unsure of yourself.




“That will be fine, we just need someone with more experience than we do.” Bradley nodded, hands on his hips. In the chaos, you and Bradley stood just staring at one another for a moment, almost relishing in the brief peace it brought.




“Well… I’m gonna need to find a sewing kit, I reckon a lot of these people will need it.” You made a start towards the blazing hull where the scattered suitcases lay a strewn. He followed you, hoping you’d give him instructions or tell him to do anything that would make him feel less lost.




“Anything else?” Bradley rose his voice as you and him got closer to the whirring engine.




“Any medicine you can find, even if it belongs to someone, we can divvy out important meds later, but we need a stockpile of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories.” You were using your logical brain now. You knew even if you were going to be rescued, it would likely be a few days, if not longer before anyone came, and people were going to get sick or infected. “And alcohol… lots of it.”




“Okay… Wait, what’s your name?” Bradley called out as you walked away.




You turned and gave him a soft smile, something steady in the chaos, “Y/N, but you can just call me Doc. What’s yours?”




Bradley grinned through the pain, “Bradley, but my friends call me Rooster.”




You chuckled, “I won’t ask.” And with that you turned to find a sewing kit amongst the debris.




Bradley was sure his heart was racing because of the agony he was in, not because of you… he was sure of it.




—————————




*Flashback*




“Sorry, excuse me.” You pardoned yourself as you shuffled past rows of seats with your clunky carryon, trying to make your way through the busy airplane isle to stow your bag above your seat.




You had gotten an earlier flight home from Sydney than expected, the job interview you had been so excited for having not gone to plan. You were frustrated and irritable but in a way you were glad to be going home.




You stowed your carryon above you seat, and plonked down heavily, a deep sigh as you relaxed into the cheap fabric. You hadn’t had much sleep since arriving in Australia, which you wanted to chalk up to jet lag, but surely that would make you want to sleep more? It was likely the anxiety of the looming interview, and that if you got the job you’d be uprooting your entire life to move, but it would have meant big things for your career.




You were beyond disappointed when you showed up and the owner of the practise turned out to be a pervert. You had never felt like you’d wanted to crawl out of your own skin until that day, when he implied on several occasions during your interview that you’d need to keep him happy to get anywhere in his workplace, and to put the icing on the cake, his hand found your rear end shamelessly as he showed you out.




“I do hope you’ll accept our offer and join us, sweetheart.” He’d winked at you as you left, his beady eyes grotesquely eyeing up your behind.




You’d immediately booked your flight home, feeling as though you’d wasted a trip but desperately wanting to get out of there, despite how beautiful the country was and how you longed to spend the week on a beach.




You closed your eyes as the flight took off, hoping for sleep to find you.




You must have dozed off, because before you knew it you blinked your eyes open and the plane was darker, cosy ambient lighting dowsing the whole cabin in soft orange. You closed your eyes again, body stiff but eyes heavy, keen on getting a few more hours sleep.




Your throat tickled, and you coughed softly into your arm to clear it, settling back and stretching, trying to find a comfortable position.




The scratchy feeling continued, and you tried to discreetly clear your throat without making too much noise, but you couldn’t, so you opened your eyes and took a sip of water from your bottle.




A few others coughed, and your first thought was that someone had brought a cold onto the plane and you groaned internally. You swallowed to try and coat your dry throat, but you began to cough more, alongside almost everyone on the plane.


Suddenly there was a commotion at the front of your section and someone jumped out of their seat.




“Fire! There’s a fire!” The man shouted.




You realised with horror that the soft orange lighting was not ambient LED strips but rather a fire in the hostess kitchen, and you coughed on the smoke that began to fill the cabin.




You unbuckled your seatbelt quickly, standing at your seat and readying yourself to help extinguish the flames if it came to it, blanket at hand.




The air hostess’ rushed to the kitchen and were quick to put the fire out, apologising to the passengers as they passed by and wafted the thick smoke towards the vents in the ceiling.




A few seconds later, interrupting the distressed murmurs of the stressed out passengers, the beep of the intercom sounded and the captains voice echoed throughout the cabin.




“Sorry folks, it appears there may have been a small fire in the hold caused by a faulty wire, which had spread to one of the hostess kitchens, but the fire has been put out and there does not appear to be anything other than superficial damage. Complimentary drinks will now be served as an apology. Please rest assured everything is-“




Before he could finish his sentence, the plane jerked violently, sending several hostess’ into the laps of passengers and a collective yelp sounded.




You quickly sat back into your seat, your heart in your throat as you fumbled with the buckle. “Shit, come on.” You mumbled as the buckle kept slipping out, refusing to click into place.




Another violent bout of turbulence sent bags flying out of the stow holds, knocking some unconscious in their seats. People began to scream and you continued to fumble with your seatbelt.




“Everyone please get back to your seats!” An air hostess tried to instruct calmly, “It’s just a bit of turbulence as we go over the pacific-“




Another big bump and she went crashing backwards, hitting her head on the wall and she fell unconscious to the ground. It was now full blown chaos, people screaming and clambering over seats, buckling in unconscious loved ones, trying not to fall over as the turbulence grew more and more violent.




Your seat belt was not playing nicely, it had finally clipped in, but now the tightening buckle wasn’t holding in place, causing the belt to slip. You pulled the belt tight and held it in your hand as best as you could, hoping it would be enough to pin you to your seat.




You could feel the plane plummeting, and your bum lifting off of the seat as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to drown out the screams of panicked passengers.




Suddenly there was deafening snap and your breath was sucked out of you, as the side of plane tore off. Your eyes shot open in terror and you caught a brief glimpse of blue and then green before you blacked out completely.




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- Entry 2 Coming Soon -

Taglist:

@randomfangirlof @scarletseresin @halflifejess @bradshawbaby

[ask-codeearasure]

Yeah I second this, it's a bad fuckin idea. If you want to make a list and keep it private then fine, but people with less sincere intentions have used public lists of names to go out and harass others. In this direct circle of people, it has just happened a couple months ago, like last year. Someone made a list of proshippers, included people that weren't even involved in ship discourse or were just lax anti-shippers, and sent the list in as many ask boxes as possible.

Someone could have gotten badly hurt AGAIN if more of us were just that trigger-happy, let's say.

Proshipping is disgusting and all that jazz, I get it and I agree, but is the risk really worth it considering not just Cosmo's concerns, but in general? I highly doubt you intend to get people harassed but believe me, it'll cause so much stress for you if you made your list public and some dickhead uses it to incite harassment on all these kids, and chances are they're already hurting.

And it's not just kids that don't know any better. Adults suffer from harassment too.

Of course you're not responsible for what other people do. The only individual you can control is yourself, but would that possibility not weigh on your conscience?

The Undertale fandom has a bullying and harassment problem. It's had one since the start. And I don't want to hear any bullshit excuse or defense like "Oh but it's the internet, it's gonna happen and you might as well get used to it". The whole point is this behavior SHOULDN'T HAPPEN. EVER. GROW A FUCKING SPINE.

I implore you to really think about this. I'm not going to assume your intentions aren't innocent which is why I'm adding this now.

-- Sarco

Transcript: honestly thinking of making a list of which au creators have made, reblogged, or interacted with others that have done proship stuff. it would be mostly dead blogs of old creators though

[cheemscakecat]

The old Jedi would not know what to do with Luke.

Anakin was seen as a handful, but the Jedi could still command and control him. He was only a little boy when he was cut off from seeing his mother, and when the Jedi started drilling it into him that his personality was a problem he needed to grow out of.

He respected them, they were the authority figures in his life. He just wanted them to see him as someone worthy of respect too, instead of a problem child.

But they still talked down to him, even after all he did in the Clone Wars. Anakin was susceptible to Palpatine playing the part of a kind father figure because the Jedi treated him so badly.

He was so depressed when he met Padme again and his mom dying was the final straw. Padme stuck with him, but believed they needed to keep their stations as a Senator and Jedi to make the galaxy a better place.

Neither of them were in the right headspace for Anakin to leave the Jedi and seek a different life. He still wanted to be a Jedi, and wasn’t he supposed to be the chosen one? Surely he had to keep trying, he had to prove that Qui Gon was right. Had to prove himself.

Luke wouldn’t have thrived either if he was taken to the Jedi as a child. But if he travelled back in time as an adult?

That man thinks like a good old moisture farmer. Some of the most moral, trustworthy folks you could find on Tatooine. And they don’t take nonsense from anybody.

He respects Obi Wan and Yoda. But he doesn’t agree with them all the time or take all their words as gospel. He was turning down Obi Wan about rescuing Leia, saying he had to go home and he wasn’t qualified to help. Left Dagoba to save his friends, because he can’t just leave them behind to train.

And he didn’t give up on reasoning with Vader, even when told nobody comes back from the dark side. He believes people can redeem themselves.

Luke isn’t set in the strict and cultish ways that the Jedi had in their last days. That’s something Disney didn’t understand.

He’s like the ancient Jedi, the ones who were normal people who happened to have the force. That’s how he operates. Who says you have to train since childhood, away from all your family, in this temple system?

He doesn’t have all the same information and training, but he has an outsider’s perspective. Luke Skywalker doesn’t put the Jedi in the same box they built for themselves before the fall. And he would make that known.

He would get along swimmingly with Qui Gon and Quinlan Vos. Vos operated outside of the Order and was looked down upon for it. I can see those two sitting and joking for hours, racing each other with Luke on a Speeder and Quinlan parkoring through the trees.

Qui Gon tried to be civil and work as a member of the Jedi, even when they looked down on him. He believed someone like Anakin could change things, so of course he’d be excited meeting Luke.

Wouldn’t it be a relief to hear another person call out the Jedi on their overzealous rules? This Skywalker, who spoke of Count Dooku potentially being redeemable and said he understood why the man left? Nobody else would have said it out loud. Mace Windu would find the man infuriating. An outsider with no right to speak about the Jedi’s ways. Do you know what he said, when Mace told him he was not fit to call himself a Jedi, much less a master?

“I’d rather not fit your definition of a Jedi. This” he gestured at the Council “isn’t something to aspire to. You’re all so high up you can’t see the ground. You can barely see the other Jedi who are a floor beneath you.

I prefer to have my feet back on solid ground, with the people who live there.”

“You said your name is Skywalker.” Luke shrugged and chuckled.

”I like to fly. I’m a decent pilot. But looking at a world from orbit only shows a fraction of it. Landing, seeing what’s on the ground is important. There are so many lights you can’t see from space. So many sounds that Air Traffic Control sees as a distraction.

The sound of a child singing along to a song, the sound of old locals bickering, the sound of animals in the trees. They’re best experienced in person. The Jedi haven’t gone down to listen in a long, long time.”

Mace could say Luke’s not a Jedi, but then what is he? He uses the light side of the Force and has good morals and does his best to work with the personality traits he has.

Maybe he does have that impatient streak and fierce anger, but he’s learned to manage them. Instead of repressing them and assuming they’ll lead to the dark side.

You can’t call Skywalker a servant of the dark side, even when you vehemently disagree about Sith being capable of redemption. And he knows enough, is skilled enough, that you can’t just write him off as part of the unwashed masses.

So what is Luke then? Living proof that Jedi can function without the Council and Temple and Dogma. Proof that Anakin could have thrived if he wasn’t raised separated from his old life and to think he was wrong for having the traits he was born with.

Would he fade away if he changed the timeline? Or would he create a new, separate timeline and wind up back in his version of the future?

Luke would probably try not to sound like a crazy man, talking about the Chancellor. Instead of being able to oust Palpatine, I believe he would change the timeline by making a difference in people’s lives.

Qui Gon was surprised to see Skywalker insisting that Anakin needed his mother; and if the Jedi were so set on isolating kids, he’d buy her freedom himself and train the boy outside of the Order. He’d never really questioned the virtue of separating parent and child, but when Luke called it out? Really made him think.

Nobody could deny that Skywalker and the small child with the same name hit it off. They were both from Tatooine and loved to tinker and loved to fly. Some even wondered if Luke was the father, which made him burst out laughing and point out the flaws in that theory.

Shmi still ended up marrying Owen’s father when she was freed, but let Anakin go with Skywalker to become a Jedi. Somehow she knew the two of them would come to visit, just like he promised.

Years later, Luke would find a way to return to his own timeline. And it would be time for him to go home, with precious memories with his father, grandmother, and uncle that he never dreamed he’d experience.

The Anakin Skywalker he left behind would be okay. He had learned how to deal with his emotions in a healthy way. He didn’t hang on the Jedi’s every word.

He was so much more calm and happy. He didn’t care what the Order said about him when he and Padme announced their marriage. Anakin had questioned why she’d deny herself happiness for her career, and she saw that he had a point.

Of course Luke stuck around for the ceremony, alongside many Jedi like Qui Gon who left the Order after seeing there was an alternative. He left an Obi Wan and Yoda who weren’t so stifled by the Order, and who made it better for it.

It would be much later that Anakin would realize the other Skywalker was his son. He grew into the same face and voice and powers. And he would find a hologram from his master, too.

Explaining that he was from a timeline where the Jedi failed the Chosen One and he fell to the dark. Reassuring Anakin that he redeemed himself in the end, and that the evil Empire was defeated. Calling him dad and saying he was glad they got to get to know each other properly.

[imaginethesepages]

there is a new queen in town.

How is this possible? Narumi stares at the screen hard, unblinking. It shouldn’t be possible, that is. There is a reason people are calling him “The KING,” and with all capital letters in the gaming community, mind you. No one could ever beat him except for BEEZ, so, again, how is this possible?

“O-One more,” Narumi stutters, fingers ready on the controller’s buttons, his hands shaking slightly — in utter disbelief or frustration, he doesn’t know. Maybe both.

“Are you sure, captain?” You say, smirking, yet your fingers are already in position, itching for another go. In the back, you hear the rest of the First Division members barely concealing their amusement behind their drinks. They clearly relish at the sight of their captain losing his wits whenever the screen screams ‘VICTORY’ in your favor.

Narumi’s night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Talks about the Defense Force’s newly implemented ‘Team Bonding Activities’ have reached his ears. Still, he didn’t put much thought into it, believing he could sneak away, lock himself in his office, and avoid the whole thing entirely.

But apparently, his division thinks otherwise, as just a few hours ago, they all came barging through his doors, chips and drinks in hand, with Hasegawa himself in the lead, completely overthrowing Narumi’s plan of an all-nighter gaming session.

They even dared to say, “It’s called ‘Team Bonding Activities’ for a reason, cap’n. And last time we checked, you’re part of this team!” Downright ignoring his pained expression.

As members of his squad, shouldn’t they listen to what he has to say — their captain? The freaking traitors.

Team Bonding: what a ridiculous notion. Narumi scoffs, his fingers aggressively pressing the controller’s buttons, eyes dry and exhausted from staring at the same screen for hours. How many rounds have they played already?

“Oh, no. Not again,” You say, the faux shock and sympathy grating on Narumi’s bones, especially with the big, bold letters flashing on the screen, seemingly mocking him. Oh, how badly Narumi wants to throw the controller at the television or, better yet, kick everyone out of his room so he can focus on the new game he bought.

You sigh, dropping the controller like it pained you to even hold it. “Captain, this is such a boring game; it’s not even difficult to defeat. No thrill, no challenge.”

Waiting for Captain Narumi’s reaction to another victory of yours has the corners of your lips twitching, subtly tugging into a teasing smile. You’ve always found his reactions endearing and, without a doubt, entertaining. There are no restraints, just wholesomeness and honesty, with a pinch of silliness.

No, a bucketload of silliness. But that’s what makes him magnetic.

So when the opportunity arises, you take your chance. “Or maybe the king isn’t that good, and it’s time for him to be dethroned. I guess it’s just right to crown a new queen instead?”

And Narumi lost it.

Safe to say, the First Division’s first-ever ‘Team Bonding’ was… quite a success — in the squad’s opinion, but not so much in Captain Narumi’s.

hello, it's me. how have you guys been? i know i've been gone for quite a while, and i haven't posted anything in months, but i just want you all to know that i always see the likes and reblogs you all do for my works. and i appreciate them so much 💖

so, when i finished writing this little drabble for narumi gen, i couldn't wait to post it ahead of time. i'm like:

jeuel: *schedules posting date and time on tumblr* a few minutes later... also jeuel: *presses the "post now" button*

so... here we are! 🙌🎉

also, you guys might be confused as to who BEEZ is. don't worry; it's an ign (in-game name) of an original character (of sorts) for another narumi gen tumblr i'm working on. yeah, there's a ton of girls running around narumi gen's sphere lol

enjoyy xx

[jokingmaiden]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Michelangelo (TMNT), Donatello (TMNT), Raphael (TMNT), Leonardo (TMNT), Casey Jones (TMNT), April O'Neil (TMNT), Splinter (TMNT), Splinter | Lou Jitsu Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Family Feels, Mystic Michelangelo (TMNT), Michelangelo-centric (TMNT), Leonardo-centric (TMNT), Michelangelo Needs a Hug (TMNT), The Turtles Need Therapy (TMNT) Summary:

Mikey wouldn't give up on him. When the portal opened, he reached for Leo, desperate to pull him away from the hell he was trapped in. Out he fell, safe and alive, in his little brother's arms again.

Right?

[bluestsdays]

there should be alarms sounding, somewhere, to alert them to stop, to think past their own desires and needs and realize that there are other people to consider besides themselves. because no, she may not exactly be in love with fletcher, but she doesn’t want to hurt him, or anyone else for that matter. probably too late for that, though, considering she really should’ve thought of that before reaching out to touch him like she just did, because now she couldn’t get enough. she wanted more, and had no intention of stopping unless he said so. thinks they might be on the same precarious page, however, at the sound of his sigh, at the feel of his hands sneaking beneath her sweatshirt, breath stuttering in her chest. heat pools beneath where his palms lay, finding herself no longer teetering over that edge, but ready to jump off it, entirely. she wants to so badly, hearing him speak, thinking about all the other times he’s pulled his own shirt off her, the two of them falling into a heap of teeth and tongues and wandering hands. “ miller, ” she sighs, the syllables shaky in resonance. she’s certain he already knows just how much she would like that, but she has no problem telling him, either. “ you know i’d like that, ” more than anything, she thinks, allowing her hand to sneak up to rest against his jaw, now dangerously close to his lips. “ you always know what i like. ” the words are sweet and soft, a hint of a smile present on her features as her fingers move once again to his lower lip, allowing her thumb to run along its softness, as if she’s thinking about whether or not she should press her own lips against it. “ i want you— i need you, ” she whispers, eyes flickering up to meet his once more, tension hanging heavy between them as she finds herself holding her breath. and she’s just beginning to lean in and close that gap between them when she hears it— that creak of floorboards outside the door, the jostling of the handle that immediately causes her to snap out of whatever trance she’s in. she pulls away from him all at once, muttering a curse under her breath, skin instantly cold without his touch. all her muscles burn with unfulfilled desire as she attempts to appear as unaffected as possible to whoever it was about to enter their oasis, turning to shield her flushed skin from their view.

his whole demeanour changes, the moment her fingertips trace the spots of him she’s already laid claimed to. has always thought that he belongs to her, somehow, that their souls were so deeply entwined that the only way he was him, was with her. the shiver that runs down his back, the goosebumps that spring in place of her touch, and the warmth that floods to his gaze, melting into the smile curved at his lips prove that. there’s never been anyone else who’s been able to incite such a reaction from him, an all-settling calm that washes over the moment their bodies come into contact. can feel his guard lowering, each place her touch lingers; his neck, his throat, his lips. felt he had to have some semblance of one, coming here this weekend, like he’d be able to shield himself from any further harm, whether it was self-inflicted, or caused by the web they’ve tangled themselves within. but, like always, she’s the first to break through that, and he finds his heart opening again, the one place reserved for her ready and waiting. “ hm… don’t know if you’re living up to your promise of being good, telling me that. ” the sigh that departs his lips his shaky, matching the timbre of his voice. goes to say that yes, obviously he’d like that. it’s clear he’s unsteady, or she just has that effect on him, still, after all this time. and it’s as if that tension pulses between them, its own heartbeat alive with what was transpiring. this all might be hypothetical, sure, but they’re still toying along that line, nearing the danger zone with each second that passes. he’s never been able to resist her, though— how could he, when she’s looking at him like that? “ but, for starters… i don’t think i’d let you be wearing this, for any longer, ” fingers grip at the material, then, tugging it into his grasp before he allows his hands to find her flesh again, pushing it slightly up her torso. “ and because it’s all my fault, i think i’d have to help you get out of it— it would be the right thing to do, hm? ” palms find her waist now, where he lets them lay, savouring the warmth of her beneath his touch. “ would probably have to give you something of mine to wear in the meantime, ” he adds, knowing smile at his lips, reminded of the image of her in his shirts, the effect it has on him. “ but then again, i’d probably find a reason to take that off of you, too— it’s never been fair, how good you look in them, ” pauses. “ what about you? is that something you’d like? ”

[turtleblogatlast]

Something I like about Leo is that he’s honestly really chill? It’s easy to remember the moments where he’s being obnoxious or excitable but I feel like most of the time he’s incredibly “go with the flow” and has an overall affable demeanor.

[birb--birb]

Soooooo I did lich emmrich...for science..

AND IM SORRY I DONT LIKE IT HOW IS IT MORE COMON THAN SAVING MANFRED??????????

[milkyspine]

[ilkkawhat]

Heya! Hope you’re doing okay ❤️

well, i didn't cry today (and more importantly didn't cry at work in front of everybody) so I'm taking that as a sign that things are getting better...I hope 😅

[bumblingbabooshka]

Watching episode one of Voyager is like watching the first act of a horror movie

[stereax]

saw you post 'listen before you go', thought you'd enjoy this:

oh...

[jikigo]

you ever just see a post and just

. 😭

.⬅️🫀⬅️

[ankhisms]

dont know how to explain but i feel like that scene in black sails where anne has had the shit beaten out of her and shes on the floor of the deck and she just grabs the shards of glass on the floor and you just see her with her face in shadows gripping the shards of glass in her hands. yeah