#i've just been thinking about it non-stop

[alchemistc]

in three, two, one (anxiety)

The door swings on its hinges to reveal the crossed arms and unimpressed expression on Henrietta Wilson's face.

"Okay," Tommy says, with no idea what he's about to experience.

Hen doesn't move, but she does lift an incredibly judgmental brow. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Well. No sugarcoating it, then. "Several things," is not an answer that's gonna make her happy, however it is the one he has available to him at the moment.

Hen rolls her jaw the same time she purses her lips, and Tommy remembers that for a while there he'd stopped having an expressive face around her because he was afraid she'd somehow know.

She had known, but not because his eyebrows did half his talking for him.

"I'm gonna be honest, I don't know what answer you wanted from me."

"Not that one."

And then suddenly Hen is in his house.

He doesn't really have people over. He's certainly never had Hen over.

He took a sledgehammer to a side wall three days ago and he hasn't had more time to work on it than sweeping away the debris.

It's very noticeable.

Hen stops in her tracks halfway down the main hall to stare at it. "Several things," she repeats mockingly, under her breath, and makes a beeline for the kitchen that's now clearly visible behind the skeleton of a non-load-bearing wall.

He hasn't seen the 118 since the funeral. Not unexpected. Definitely not on purpose. He's always been just a hair outside of that group.

"So, my best firefighter is moping because the man he's been obsessed with for more than a year now hasn't called, and you're... knocking out walls."

"I've been meaning to knock out that wall for three years."

Her eyes roll around in her skull for a while before they catch his gaze. It's not an easy gaze to ignore. "Sure, nothing to do with the fact that the one conversation I know you two had in recent memory has to do with how annoyingly small and closed in the kitchen in his rental is."

A single moment of levity in a horribly sad day. But Evan hadn't asked to talk. Evan just lost the man he considered a father. So Tommy made small talk, and bit back the envious beast inside him when Eddie and Evan devolved into a squabble about the general layout of the house.

It had just reminded him of his plan, is all. The plan he's had for years, now. Nothing to do with Evan at all.

"You want some coffee? Orange juice? Maybe my drill so you can just lobotomize me instead of giving me cryptic, judgy eyes?"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Tommy shoots her an exasperated look. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here against my own nature, to tell you to grow a pair and reach out to the man you stole government property and committed multiple felonies for."

"I've texted Howie," Tommy shoots back, just to avoid the inevitable for a few more moments. Out of all of them, he definitely never would have expected Hen to be the one staging an intervention. Or whatever this is meant to be.

The glib response was a mistake. The cheese Danish she tosses at his head looks delicious even as it bounces off his cheek and sails to the floor.

Tommy sighs. "Evan is fully capable of picking up the phone."

His daring rescue had ended in a loss. A major one. Tommy still doesn't fully understand what Athena had been thinking, asking him to help the 118 carry Bobby to his final destination. Something about firsts and lasts, although he'd been a little too wired to catch more than the gist, when she'd called.

"And what, exactly, is your issue with picking it up?"

The million dollar question. He'd dropped everything the moment he heard I need your help and it's weird and probably super illegal. A little breathless, like he was running. Like Tommy has heard him countless times in much more pleasant scenarios. But then there'd been Bobby. The funeral. Evan's stoicism leaking from his pores, three weeks on.

They'd both done a great job of making it not Tommy's place to do anything about that. And grief - grief changes the whole world. Entire personalities. The loss hasn't even had time to fully bruise over, even for Tommy. He doesn't know how he could have a place in that. Doesn't know if he'd even be wanted if he tried.

"So you're both idiots, is what you're telling me."

"Where'd you get those danishes?" Tommy asks, because avoidance is his bread and butter.

Hen's got a big ass Tupperware full of them he hadn't noticed until she cracked it open to commit assault with a pastry.

Hen groans. "These are Buck's Missing Tommy But Still Not Calling Him For Some Reason Danishes. Pretty sure he hasn't slept in three days. Half the station woke up to some sort of baked good on their doorstep this morning."

The fact that Tommy wasn't in the rotation probably means something. His house is a lot closer to Evan's than Hen's, Maddie's, likely Ravi's too.

"Eat a danish and call him, idiot," Hen says, and shoves the Tupperware at his chest.

---

The danish is to die for. Perfect flaky crust. Cream cheese mixture to die for. Three blueberries on top, a perfect little dusting of powdered sugar.

Tommy eats three in the husk of his kitchen and decides he hates the subway tiles he installed after he hooked up with Evan and immediately blew up any chance at reconciliation.

He's got the oven pulled out and a crowbar in hand to yank them out before he manages to take another full breath.

Hen seems to think he's got another shot at this. At the life he'd dipped his toes into, constantly darting away from that first chill of the water, never allowing his body to get comfortable. Never allowing his mind enough time to adjust to the temperature of it.

And yet somewhere along the way Evan had baked himself into Tommy's life - his routines, his itineraries, the day to day mundanity of Tommy's life. He'd made the world momentarily brighter, exponentially more terrifying.

Tommy'd been looking for ways to bail out even as he was giving Evan glimpses of his life.

He'd waited too long. Given himself too many allowances. Let Evan settle under his skin, in his bones.

Tommy lays the crowbar out on the counter. Wipes his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans.

Reaches over the back of the oven to grab his phone.

Bangs his head on the overhang of the microwave as he tries to slip out from behind his panic project.

Well.

This is gonna go well.

[cherryswisherz]

WANT vs NEED

♱CONTAINS: toxic juju, oc standin on bidness ♱NIYAHSPEAKS: yall like when i do the toxic shit so lmk if you want a pt 2

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

"you gon let me in?"

this girl is sitting at my fuckin door- after i dont hear from her for two weeks- asking me to let her in.

for access to me. access she's had for the past two months. access that i gave her no matter how bad she treated me, no matter how much she lied, no matter how she spoke to me. she always got whatever she wanted out of me.

and i would have given in tonight, because honestly, two weeks wasnt even the longest we'd been no contact. had it not been for what went down in these past two weeks, i would have opened the door wider, let her prance her happy ass in my crib like i always did and take me places no one else ever had.

but not tonight. not any night ever again, because a week ago a video circled on the internet. a megan thee stallion audio with a girl who was excited to broadcast the arm lazily slung around her neck. they were at a party. one i'd asked her to go to with me, but she declined.

juju's face wasn't in it. her bun wasn't showing, no usc merch. but her tattoo was. on her hand, "tears dry" in the pretty cursive that i'd helped her pick out was on full display.

and i'm not stupid. i knew she was fucking other people, but it was the principle of the matter.

"no." my tone was dry and hard, like dead soil. but i felt weak.

i wanted her. i wanted to breathe her in like she was the oxygen i needed to live.

but that's the thing. i didn't need her. and i'd gotten so caught up in my own 'i can fix her' fantasy that i forgotten that that's all this was. a want.

it was deep fucking want though.

"no?" she sounded shocked, and she had a right to be. like i said, she always got her way with me.

"no." i blinked. "you gotta go" i tried to remain non-chalant, as i tried to close the door, like it standing on business didn't feel like standing on nails.

but of course, she couldn't just let me shut her out. she pressed her palm to the door, and pressed it open and i tried not to stare at the tattoo, not to track the veins from her hand down her arms.

"wait wait" she squinted at me, like she was trying to solve a puzzle, "you mad at me?"

i should have said no. that i wasn't mad, i was just done with this dance. that would have been the smart thing to do, but i've been known to be a bit dingy when it came to her. to throw my morals out the window and engage in petty disputes that i wouldn't engage in with anyone else.

"yes, i'm mad at you."

"for what?" like she couldn't fathom that i could be pissed off enough to not let her in.

"how was jaden's party, judea?" a cocked my head to the side. immediately i knew she got my message. she threw her head back with a deep sigh and covered her face with her hands, rubbing her eyes in frustration.

"if i hear about this shit one more time..." she groaned before shaking her head and lowering it. "i ain't even wanna go to the fucking party-"

"but you did." i bit out.

she stopped mid sentence and just looked at me. i watched ever muscle in face. i could see her thought process.

she could usually talk me out if my upset. and i think she could tell that this was different because i never cut her off. she knew she wasn't winning this one. not tonight at least.

and for a second, her face softened. for a tiny fraction of time, she'd looked defeated, but then she rolled her shoulders and hardened back up into the 6'2 basketball phenomenon that couldn't be bothered.

"i'm not boutta argue witchu you, jaliyah."

"then don't." i sassed, moving to close the door again, just for her palm to meet my front door again.

"liyah, cmon, bro." she groaned. she was irritated.

good.

"what, judea?" i asked, resting my head on the door sill. i kept that hard tone, and i felt it getting easier to use.

"you for real?" her laughed a little before continuing, "you're really boutta close the door on me?"

it was like she thought this was funny. my feelings were comincal to her. i was a joke, in her mind.

well shit's boutta get real hilarious.

"bye, judea."

♱

the next week, i showed out.

i prided myself on being a homebody, but that week? i was OUTSIDE.

during the day, when i wasn't in class, i was posted at whatever day party was poppin in LA.

it's true when they say the freaks com out at night, because when the sun set, my close friends was flooded with packed, dark rooms of USC students.

but there was a method to my madness.

i could function without her. i could be without her. and i was trying to prove that. to show myself, and anyone who would look that i didn't need her. all i had to do what get over this want- this yearning- for juju fucking watkins.

i was determined. focused.

i didn't talk about how every person i'd danced with didn't have strong hands like she did. didn't acknowledge the way i unintentionally searched for her in every crowd. i blocked out the majority of my own mind because it didn't feel like mine anymore. she occupied nearly part of it.

that saturday, i decided to branch out. to leave the USC campus because she was everywhere and it was too much. i guess i'd gotten sick of seeing the '12' jerseys everywhere i went.

i don't know why i did it- but i fucked with the opps. i went to a UCLA function.

juju and i had an inside joke. UCLA was the suburbs and USC was the hood. and as soon as i stepped into suburbia, i so desperately wanted to return back to the hood.

i didn't belong there. it felt so unnatural, but again.

point to prove.

so i made sure to post my bruins blue on the main story, gold jewelry adorning my locs, my ears cuffed with small gold hoops. bangles clanked in the background of terrible music.

i looked the fuck good, and i wanted everyone to see it. i wanted her to see it.

to see that i did not need her.

but in reality, i was a wallflower. no one there knew i was from USC. and no one in general knew that i was involved with UCLA's biggest hater. but i still felt like i was betraying... someone.

juju. my school. myself.

take your pick, but i knew i was wrong to be there. i felt like i was on guard, watching and waiting for someone to expose me.

then finally, it happened.

she called first, and i didn't make it outside in time to answer. for a second, i was glad that i missed her call and then i began internally kicking my own ass for foing outside to pick up in the first place.

that didn't last long though, because my phone dinged with a text.

wtf r u doing jaliyah?

my first instinct was to come clean. it was natural, the way i wanted to admit that i felt to out of place and i shouldn't have went there.

but then i remembered what i was doing this for.

im at a party why wsp

i smiled because i knew what the fuck i was doing. yes, i felt like an alien, but she didn't need to know that.

#nonchalantfinalboss

dpmo come home rn.

and just like that, it was easier to not give a fuck, because juju never failed to remind me that she had less to give than anyone i'd ever met.

she was still telling me what to do. expecting me to run back to her like i was that pitiful. and maybe i was in the past, but no more.

no <3

and that was the end of it. she didn't text again. she didn't call. it was that simple.

i stayed at the party until i couldn't take the music anymore, and by the time my lyft dropped me back at my apartment, i was ready to melt into my mattress.

on the elevator ride to my floor, i thought about why she'd given up so easily. she loathes UCLA, and she took my 'no' just like that? like it didn't really matter to her? like i didn't really matter to her?

i got my answer the second the elevator door separated. juju sat, legs crossed, hands folded between her knees, head resting on my front door.

she looked like she was meditating, kinda.

but when the elevator dinged, she popped her head up and i knew that she had no peace to share.

her eyes set on me, and that was when i knew i'd fucked up.

"you have fun?" she inquired, not moving to get up. she just craned her neck up as i stepped to her.

i knew she was pissed. she was devoid of any expression. she didn't even look mad, and that's how i knew she was mad.

but i wasn't about to let her win. she couldn't have this. she couldn't have me any-fucking- more.

"tons." i smiled, then nudged her knee with my foot. "move."

"no." she cut her eyes at me, intentionally throwing my words back at me.

she was so fucking petty, it irked the fuck out of me.

"juju, i'm not playin witchu." i kicked her a little harder, "move."

"jaliyah, i'm not playin witchu." she mocked me, "no." she smiled sweetly, like she wasn't acting an ass.

it was like magma boiled within me, giving me the strength to cock my foot back, and swing that bitch like i played professional soccer.

"get. the fuck." i kicked her with everything i had, knowing that at 5'4 it wasn't alot. this wasn't about hurting her. once again, it was the principle. "away. from. my do-"

i didn't feel it when her hand wrapped around my ankle, but i felt it when my knees touched the floor. i felt it when my skirt rode up my waist. i felt it when the pads of her fingers danced under my top.

i was silent. my tantrum was over. there was no kicking, no arguing, no nothing. just me on top of her.

she smelled so good, she looked so good, and she felt even better under me. for a moment, i let myself get lost in her eyes. i let myself find comfort in the way she was holding me. i let nostalgia take me back to when we'd first started this. when were friends with benefits and not... whatever we are now.

looking at her, i saw who we used to be before i'd convinced myself that i would be the one she'd act right for. i'd always listened to her ho tales and laugh, feeling sympathetic to the poor women she'd hoodwinked, and i told myself that i wouldn't be one of those stories. we were friends first. i was different.

not.

the present sunk in when i saw the way her jaw was so tight i could see it poking out of her cheek a little, and i found my breath.

she used to never be mad at me. she always told me it was impossible to hurt my feelings, because she would do anything i wanted. it didn't used to be like this.

i told myself that as i pushed on her chest to get up, untangling myself from her and huffing a little when i found my footing.

"just leave, ju." i whispered, but i knew she heard me because she rolled her eyes.

she threw her arms behind her head before bringing them back in front of her, like she was presenting something. "but why, though." she groaned, "what is the problem, liyah? what the fuck is the point of all this?"

the point.

"the point is ion wanna do this shit no more." i heard my own voice raising, and i didn't car that it was almost 2 in the morning.

it was saturday in LA. let's be for real... i could still hear stunna girl bumping down the street...

"it's not fuckin worth it." i finished, deciding that i didn't need her to move.

i would climb over this bitch if i had to.

i moved to unlock my door, leaning over her, but she taps my hips, pushing me back to where i was across from her.

"i'm not worth it?" she's on her feet in a second, stalking towards me until my back is to the closed elevator doors. "for real?"

i was intimidated, not scared. intimidated not by her height, but the look in her eyes. she was right there, staring down at me like i'd cursed her firstborn child. like i'd ruined her life or something.

i didn't understand how she'd managed to flip my words. how the tables had turned and somehow her feelings were the ones hurt. but that's the way it happened. she'd flipped the script, as she'd always done.

but it she wanted to play victim, that was fine.

i shoved her, "for real." and i knew when she stepped back it was her own doing, but she did it nonetheless.

i had a clear path to my door, and i took my opportunity. i found my key, and unlocked the door as fast as i could, but not fast enough because when i stepped in to my home, so did juju.

"no-" i gripped her shoulders in an attempt to manually turn her around, "get the fuck out."

it was no use, because she pushed past me and plopped on my couch like she paid bills. she man spread, folding her hands in her lap like earlier, "nah, we finna talk."

"there's nothing to talk about."

"what the hell is up witchu, bro?"

"YOU." i threw my keys. they didn't touch her, much to my dismay. "you are what's up with me. you got me fucke-" i dropped the hand i had pointing at her.

she didn't need to hear my reasoning. the fact of the matter was i was done, and she had to accept that.

"i'm not doing this." i sighed, shutting my eyes. "i said that already, and i'm not saying it again." when i opened my eyes, she still had that same dumbstruck face on, like she wasn't comprehending. "leave, judea."

"no."

"the fuck do you want from me?" i sighed.

this shit was exhausting. i wasn't even tired from the party. it was her. in what- 10 minutes?- she'd drained me of everything i had.

"i want you to talk to me." she said it like a conversation was all it took to fix this. she didn't realize that i was beyond fixing anything.

but the irony wasn't lost on me. the fact that she was begging for me to 'talk to her' like this whole thing didn't start with her not talking to me.

"i wanted you to talk to me for two weeks."

i walked past my kitchen, slowly creeping towards her with my middle and index finger up, in case she needed a visual representation. the muscles in my hand felt tight because she stressed me the fuck out, but she wanted to talk right?

she was finna hear me.

"two fucking weeks, wondering why the fuck i was on delivered and then you pop up, slung on some bitch like- like what?" my shoulders were heavy when i shrugged them, feeling the joints flex.

"like i didn't ask you to go? like you just said 'fuck jaliyah, who's constantly pouring into me. imma just ignore her, the one fucking time she wants to go out, and then go anyway, and imma rub it in her fucking face." i clapped between my words at the end because she truly had me fucked up.

i didn't wanna have this conversation because i knew that she pulled a side of me out that i didn't like, but here we are.

"so this is because i ain't take you to a damn party?" she squints like she can't grasp the concept, and she couldn't. it really just flew over that goddamn bun.

"oh my fuckin goood," my throat was scratchy when i let out a genuine shout. "no. it's not about the dumbass party, it's the principle."

she was still looking at me like she was fuckin slow, so i took a breath because i was running out of patience. when i opened my eyes again, i squatted down so i was setting on the edge of my coffee table.

"how long have we known each other, ju?" i ask, bracing my hands on my knees to ground myself.

"like three years," she shrugged, "what's tha-" i cut her off because i didn't wanna hear her stupid ass question. i already knew what it was.

what's that gotta do with it?

"three years. we been friends for three years, fuckin for what? four months?" i didn't give her time to think about it because i knew how long we'd been sleeping together.

i remember that first time, like it was my first time. we'd been eating and watching 'Love and Other Drugs." she made a joke about how the characters didn't do no strings correctly. one thing led to another and bam! i found myself doing shit i'd never done.

i think that's what really irritated me about the whole thing. she knew that i didn't just fuck for fun. she knew that i protected that side of myself. i'd expected her to cherish it, and she destroyed it instead.

"four months ago, you would have taken me to that party. you wouldn't have ignored me, because four months ago, you gave a fuck."

"whatchu talkin bout?" she spits out. she wags her finger in a circle, gesturinng to my apartment. "you think i would be here if i ain't care about you?"

"you care because i won't fuck you." i corrected.

it was the truth. she didn't care this whole time. she saw me going out all day and night, knowing i wasn't that type of person. yet, she didn't say fucking word until i was doing something she didn't like.

well, all she did was shit i didn't like. all she did was cross my boundaries, and break my rules, and i was sick of letting the shit roll off my back.

"it took me going to a fuckass UCLA for you to show up." i exclaimed, emphasizing on the ridiculousness of it all. "you get how fucked that is?"

"that's not the point-"

the point is i'm here.

heard that one before, too.

"but it is though." i nodded fast, leaving my chin in the air. "it is that fucking deep."

the situation may be small, but the principle be big as fuck, and that's what she wasn't understanding.

"i let you hit and all of a sudden you treat me like i'm somebody you laugh at inna group chat."

the group chat i started. the one where i let her mingle with my other friends because she'd complained about not having a life outside of basketball her freshman year.

we'd all talked shit about her conquests. calling them groupies. saying they should have known better. i'd encourage her, never imagining that i'd be on the other end of her whore-like actions.

"liyah, b-"

"ain't no 'liyah' NOTHING." i stood up, because i knew this wasn't going anywhere.

i knew it wasn't before it'd started, but i let her take me there and now i had to reel myself back in.

"you got it ju." i put my hand up in defeat.

because she had defeated me. she won because even after this whole thing, i still wanted her. i still wanted to keep trying to fix her, no matter how much she chipped away at me.

"you cracked. linked 'ms. unlinkable' - whatever the fuck you was trynna do that night - you did it." i clapped for dramatic effect. i wanted her to feel like a winner, even though she'd just lost.

she lost a friend. she lost good coochie. she lost a supporter. she lost it all.

"jaliyah, cmon." she kept saying that. trying to make me feel like i was being unreasonable, or i was crazy and saying my name would make me open my eyes to that that fact.

"get out my house, judea."

and finally- fucking finally - she listened. hung her head and drug her feet out the door.

when she was gone, i exhaled, like i'd been holding my breath that whole time. i slugged to my kitchen island and dropped my head against the cold marble, and i just breathed for a second.

what the fuck do i do now?

was the first thought i had, and the second was:

i don't even know.

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[kino-der-infizierten]

THEORY ABOUT BREAK ON THROUGH!!!

WARNING: MAJOR BLACK OPS COLD WAR + BLACK OPS 6 SPOILERS

While Break on Through is loading you can hear "Perseus" saying things to Bell

“Do not trust Adler. Adler is lying to you. Do not trust Adler. Do not listen to Adler. He is lying to you. Find the truth. He is lying to you. Do not trust Adler.”

Perseus' lines in Break on Through loading screen

We know that Bell was a commander (when selected non-binary/classified gender Perseus' operatives call Bell "commander" in Ashes to Ashes) and Perseus' right hand which means there's a high chance that they were very loyal to Perseus, at the point of not telling anything at any method of interrogation the CIA used.

But it would be impossible to actually be him, and even if he somehow could get into Bell's head literally, he still didn't had no reason to, Volkov tells Bell Perseus wanted them DEAD and that is stated MULTIPLE times. He clearly was unaware that Bell was brainwashed and didn't willingly betrayed him.

“That makes this much less unpleasant for you. Perseus has been looking for this one.”

“Perseus has a large bounty on your head.”

“Perseus is paying me a fortune to smuggle his merchandise out of Europe. I bet he’ll pay even more when he finds out I’ve killed you.”

Anton Volkov's lines when Bell gets captured by Franz Kraus in Brick in the Wall.

So then while replaying Break on Through over and over came the idea that maybe the Perseus we see it's actually Bell's mind trying to break out of the MK-ULTRA brainwash

Adler says more about the drug used in Bell in Black Ops 6 when preparing that same drug for Harrow

“Its official name is phenosorazine, but MK-Ultra coined it "Separation". I've had it for a while. Let's hope it doesn't have an expiration date.”

“In most test subjects, it fragmented their psyche. A form of induced schizophrenia. We're gonna find the part of Harrow that's willing to talk to us.”

Russell Adler explaining about the drug used in MK-ULTRA in The Rook: Interrogation (Black Ops 6)

Bell's mind could've separated his loyal part from the rest, which was ""personified"" as Perseus, just like Harrow has her normal side and the 'crazy'(?) side in Separation Anxiety.

This part of Bell wanted them to break out of the brainwashing, using the figure of Perseus because they would listen to the man they were loyal for so long.

And clearly it wasn't only in the Break on Through intro that Bell's loyal part tried to break the brainwashing.

During the mission it gets to a point you enter Perseus' office(?) and it's full of notes, possibly what Bell was thinking during the interrogation/brainwashing, with some being like Bell actually talking with themselves, while others looks like someone else talking with them, which would be his "Perseus" side (not putting all of them here):

"На кого они работают?" → Who do they work for?

"Кто они?" → Who are they?

"HE ДОВЕРЯТЬ НИКОМУ" → DON'T TRUST ANYONE

"не доверяй никому, кроме себя" → Trust no one but yourself

"ОСТАНОВИ ЭТО " → MAKE IT STOP

"ПЦРУ или КГБ?" → CIA or KGB?

"Они хотят убить тебя" → They want to kill you

"Вы знаете, что боль больше?" Do you know that there's more pain? (??)

"Что они с тобой Долают?" What are they doing to you?

"ВЫ Должны БОРЬБА" → You must FIGHT

"УБИРАЙСЯ" → GET OUT

"do you hear it?"

"DO NOT TRUST"

"THEY WANT TO KILL YOU"

"WHO ARE YOU?"

"TELL ME WHO I AM!"

"MAKE IT STOP"

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?"

"WHERE AM I?"

"WHY CAN'T YOU REMEMBER?"

"WHO IS PERSEUS?" [medusa drawing]

"YOU ARE GOING TO DIE HERE"

"DON'T TRUST ADLER" [pic of Adler]

"PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN"

TL;DR

The Perseus voice we hear in Break on Through is actually Bell's side that's still loyal to Perseus trying to break out from the brainwashing

[meirimerens]

could you expand more on the lavender marriage? i wanted to look up more posts of yours when you mention it but... tumblr search function... function't...

I don't think I've said much about it because it's kinda self-explanatory okay so the lavender marriage mention [that I can rember] is from le fameux "inheriting the earth" + 5yrs patho kids now adult designs & lore post with both Khan & Capella having "[material] wedding ring, purposefully mismatched as a sign of lavender marriage". for the uninitiated a "lavender marriage" is a type of marriage of convenience that one (or both) party/ies enter to conceal their homosexuality and attempt to reap the social benefits and personal safety of being in a heterosexual marriage. it can happen with both spouses being gay and using the appearance of a heterosexual pair for reciprocal protection, or only one of them being gay and entering the marriage for protection, the non-gay partner may or may not be aware of the other's homosexuality. if both spouses are gay, they may typically lend each other freedom to see other people.

in khan & capella's situation, a marriage of convenience is decided upon early [cf. Capella's lines] for the sake of "bringing the families together" (political alliance). Oh I have sooo much to think about how the older generation (in that case Maria and Vlad Jr) expect the one after them to rub off their blood and rebuild their shed (pivotal element of pathologic anyways [cf. Burakh]) but that's not about this rn. anyways yes marriage of political interests.

anyways now this is where I'm real I think they're both homosexual. capella knows this about khan because she's clairvoyant. khan knows this about himself. he knows capella knows when she gives him her little bunny smile and he remembers she's clairvoyant. he learns later [this is still pre-wedding] she is too and is like oooooh so we fundamentally can't love each other. thank god I just thought it was a me problem. Capella had been taking theatre classes and she learned to do a theatre-kiss [move the mouth to the side so the other kisses cheek, head angle important] for the wedding day. They shamelessly lie to the population to explain why they, bit by bit, stop living together very quickly after the wedding ("we need separate blankets he keeps stealing if off me" "we need separate bed she has such cold feet it's giving me the shivers" "we need separate rooms he snores" "we need separate houses my presence is draining her of her powers"). Maria knows that's not the truth, she's clairvoyant. Whether she feels anything for the brokenness of the ruling families having been pushed onto her brother as a teenager I haven't decided yet. Katerina knows because she's clairvoyant. Basically all the kids know they don't like each other and a select few adults do (not about the gay thing they just think they're in a normal loveless marriage of convenience like is unfortunately really common [a lot had own parents in one] just slightly happier about it)

In my mind's eye (in my eyes' mind) they both have their own lives pretty separate. Khan fucks off overseas, goes to boarding school, and travels, sends back copious amounts of books. Capella gets the telegram installed into the town and he sends short updates on his travels. She stays in town for Mistress Purposes, reads plenty of books and orders khan to go fetch some in obscure londonian libraries, carries the new administration on her shoulders frankly. the marriage stays as a constant reminded to the oldest siblings and the rest of the adults that it is their bullshit that created this unnatural and uncomfortable situation which reflects poorly on the town with how free both "spouses" live their lives. Capella goes dancing with the girls in the warehouses. Khan routinely goes and hang out with [gestures] this one guy who we don't know what their problem is or if they even have a problem anymore. nobody will let them divorce because that would force the town to reckon with its massive political mistakes and fundamentally broken systems. Capella had gone dancing with the girls in the warehouses on her wedding night and khan had found himself there also because he wanted to tell off notkin for running his mouth during the "speak now or forever hold your peace" and insulting the oldest siblings for cf. like 2 paragraph above and when these two begin jokingly asking what capella is even doing here in this dress she goes "it's my wedding day!!" and they make faces and pretend to be gobsmacked and khan says "and I wasn't even invited??" anyways yeah. very funny to me.

okay now what's this "i haven't said much because it's self-explanatory" >proceeds to say much. well hope you enjoyed.

[salemssimblr]

Tag Game: Non-Sims Interests

Thank you so so much for the tag @honeysylvan, @living-undead, @fledermausbend, & @ethelgodehel!! ILYY!! 😘

I always weirdly forget everything I've ever liked or been into when I get tagged in these but let's seeeee

Music - I've come to accept that I might actually be allergic to silence - not because I can't stand the sound of my own thoughts (quite the contrary, actually), but because I'd much much rather have music in my brain. I always have something playing, or at the very least a song stuck in my head. But I was raised this way. My dad was the guitarist/vocalist for multiple heavy metal bands in my area before I was born, & there's an unconfirmed rumor that he turned down a position in Pantera because my mom was pregnant... I have legitimately not idea of its validity lmao. But he raised me on the good shit, and helped develop what I would consider a delightfully well-rounded music taste that I'm actually weirdly proud of.

Concerts - Three of my items for this list are music related and I regret absolutely nothing. I'm an indoor cat through and through... unless there's a concert I feel I need to go to. Local shows, bigger shows, festivals, give me all of it. I've been to VooDoo fest in NOLA multiple years (and I'm gutted it doesn't happen anymore), Sonic Temple fest this past year, and I actually won a sweepstakes all-expenses paid trip to Coachella in 2016. If it's music, I'm there. I actually recently began to compile a list of all the shows I've attended and all the artists I've seen... and it's over 100... and we have (*counts*) 5 more scheduled for this year, with a few more to inevitably be added oops.

Vinyl - Music point #3 lmfao. For our first wedding anniversary, my husband and I got ourselves a really nice record player, and I swear it was the best/worst thing we could've done. Now I cannot stop buying vinyl. I'm in TROUBLE when Spotify sends me fan-first vinyl offers, but it's how I've gotten quite a few cool ones. I'm particularly interested in special/limited and anniversary editions. Not to brag (I'm going to brag just a little) but I have the "tooth-white" deluxe edition of unreal, unearth: unending (hozier), & the anniversary editions of American idiot (Green Day), the sickness (disturbed), & fallen (evanescence), plus a lot of other limited/special edition colored vinyl (my fave). I think I'm officially at 67 records and counting.

Writing & RPG - I haven't written too much lately so I almost didn't include this, but it's been such an integral part of my entire being that I couldn't leave it out. I began writing on a text-based, "play per post" rpg forum allllll the way back in 2005, and I never looked back. I was insanely active on that forum and went on to own my own that was fairly successful until around this time last year when I finally shut it down. But the writing bug has never left, and lately I've been focusing on my own projects and reacquainting myself with solo writing. 90% of the renders I share here are of rpg ocs and a good percentage of my renders are meant to be snapshots into their stories (which I hope to share as a rendered 'comic' of sorts soon). In the meantime I really should create a writing sideblog.

True crime/crime docs/law - I've always had an interested in the macabre, and true crime is no exception. I had the wild opportunity to take a forensics class in high school (which was insanely well set up, with a literal crime lab in the school and final grades dependent on our performance in a series of 4 mock crime scenes, in which our fellow students (not in our class) were victims and perpetrators). In that class I "worked" the homicide team and tbh I've been chasing the high of "arresting" another student in the school ever since lmfao. But that experience set me on a weird path of knowing way too much about serial killers (I gave a 45 minute presentation on Jeffrey Dahmer in that class), ingesting so many true crime docs that I'm genuinely surprised when I hear about a case I didn't already know about, and, more recently, watching hours upon hours of live trial coverage for some pretty interesting cases. Right now I'm listening through the retrial of Karen Read after watching every single agonizing minute of the first trial last year. It can be a pain but it's also really interesting to see how the justice system works in detail, and by watching it with attorney commentary, I'm actually learning a lot (I can identify objections pretty easily now lmao)

Food & coffee - I'm a foodie, what can I say? When traveling, the first thing I research is the food options, specifically the proximity of a good iced coffee source near our lodging, but also any exciting or unique restaurants nearby. I never want to eat something I can get at home if I'm somewhere else. Gimme local cuisine or at the very least something I can't find back home! My family likes to tell us how "adventurous" we are but really we just like having a well-rounded appetite and a larger rotation of dinner ideas so we don't get too bored. Now, when it comes to coffee it better be iced, and it better be in my hand asap. I will literally always say yes to an iced coffee, no matter the day, time, or weather. As a matter of fact I used to stroll into dunkin out of the snow on my way to work in NYC and order my iced coffee with NO shame lmao. But coffee in general is a bit of a 'passion' I guess? That's a weird way to put it maybe but I have a dedicated coffee bar in my house (& not, like, one little cart in the corner, this beast takes up almost a whole wall), where I have multiple different grounds (some flavored), too many syrups and sauces, and a machine that makes hot, iced and frappes all in one. My obsession is well-known by my family too. My aunt just recently gifted us an antique, 100 year old wall-mounted coffee grinder that looks so fucking cool next to our coffee bar.

I could keep going but this has become wayyyy too long and much longer than I was expecting lmao. I always blank on these but this time I just couldn't stop typing. I always feel like my interests aren't as cool as everyone else's but yknow what, they are lmao.

Anyway on to the tags! I'll tag @acidheaddd, @hell-is-coming-for-you. @aching-joints, @jokiyo, @crazy-hazy-sims, @1-800-cuupid, @m0n0lithical, @queenofthedork, @notasimblr, @flovoid, @omgkayplays, @azeterna, @aheathen-conceivably, @dizzyrobinsims, @orionisms & YOU if you want to do this I tagged you! (& if I tagged you and you've already done this feel free to ignore (or share more things about you!))

Thank you again for the tags I love yall!!!!

[bingsucks]

I just got a weird obsession with making a podfic so if anyone has a 500-1k word fic they made they would be willing to let me fuck around with please lmk! preferably for community, but again, this is just for practice, so any fandom works. it will be terrible. you will be disappointed. I might never even release it to the public. but I need permission from the writer and don't want to get anyone's hopes up. give me your fics 🙏 no promises

[rapidhighway]

the way I was introduced to dc was teen titans in which nobody ever uses their secret identity ever. They never use their names, only their pseudonyms and that has stuck with me for some reason. Idek if they know what Robin looks like. Robin is Robin, Starfire is Starfire. Stop calling him dick grayson stop deadnaming him

[kaiiscottage]

꒰ Yuuri’s blue prince ♡ ꒱

[ghostly-bat]

I've been thinking about that bed chem ask non stop. Been listening to bed chem imagining it from Damian's perspective cus of the lyrics "Who's the cute boy with the white jacket. And the thick accent?" and "Who's the cute guy with the wide, blue eyes. And the big bad mm?" like come on

Damian horny on main all because Jon has an accent and pretty blue eyes? Yeah that's pretty much the whole premise and I love it.

I really hope that anon knows the magic they've created with that au.

[lloydfrontera]

Y baila lento flor morada / And dance slow purple flower Que me recuerdas a mi amada / For you remind me of my beloved Ella me está esperando en casa / She's waiting for me at home Y yo muriendo por volver / And I'm dying to go back Bugambilia - Nasa Histoires

bk moon wrote two different books about a korean guy being isekai'd as a noble into a fantasy novel and developing an extremely homoerotic relationship with the original protagonist who devotes his life to protect him, eventually reaching a point where their only goal is to keep each other safe at all costs and i'm just. supposed to be normal about it. not meant to see anything unusual in that. okay.

[cornleypolytechnicgoeswrong]

More of my favourite low effort CPDS Members as my screenshotted tiktok comments memes for you as an apology for being so inactive and proof I am still around hehe <33

[arminsumi]

BEST FRIEND'S LOVER.

there's undeniable tension between you and satoru's best friend.

but neither you nor suguru pounce on the other, as much as you want to — no, those hands are tied tight behind those backs.

you've been their friend for a year. and one year is all it took for satoru to snatch you up. but for you, his love felt so... immature. not insincere, but two-dimensional; yet suguru... well, even though neither of you exchanged one i love you in your whole time of knowing each other, it felt like a three-dimensional love.

scratch that, you and him connected in multiple dimensions, in multiple lives, in every alternate reality. sometimes he mused to himself and thought that he probably loved someone like you in all his past lives. maybe in alternate realities, the two of you were lovers trapped in a fictional book. or within a song lyric. maybe you were a princess in one life and he was your prince. perhaps you were simply two rivers connected at a mountain top. even two stars glittering lightyears away in the ever-expanding universe.

across all realities, suguru was sure that you and him always loved each other.

but in this life, he couldn't have you. it irked his soul, not just his mind, but his soul. he wanted you to end up in his arms. every time he caught you and his best friend falling asleep on each other on the couch of his apartment, he paused and jealously thought for a moment about swapping places with the white-haired boy.

[jessicas-pi]

I finally found some time to sit down and listen to music and relax and just not think about anything, but the music I was listening to was the new Taylor Swift album and The Prophecy came on and now I will be thinking about how well it fits that really angsty chapter of Time Heals All Wounds for the next 36 hours.

[ilkkawhat]

Listen, I don’t know what other personal struggles you’re dealing with, but it definitely does sound like burnout and stress disorder could be an issue.

And speaking as someone who has been out of commission for a long while due to exactly that, therapy really does help. You can even find therapists specialised in occupational psychology if you most of all just want to address your work situation and are not ready or willing to touch the underlying stuff.

That kind of therapy isn’t necessarily about learning to love and forgive yourself, but how to get a handle on how you react in work situations and managing expectations and stressors.

i would argue that 90% of my problems right now are work related so maybe that something i'll look into...i honestly didn't even realize that was like. a thing? one of my cousins seemed like he was willing to kinda be that pseudo-therapist for me but i worry i fucked something up cause we haven't met in a bit (not since he went on his vacation and idk i hope i didn't piss him off when i tried to change a bandage on his dog like maybe i didn't do it right etc) and unfortunately i haven't had a chance to fully follow his advice (another me problem) that might help me too...the burnout i do think is 100% true and unfortunately my next time off isn't until the end of may (because of my vacay earlier this year and the two i have planned i legit only have one vacation day left fuck me) and maybe it is some sort of stess disorder cause when i think back to my other jobs i've had...while i was never at the point where i came home crying almost every day this job specifically has just like. been nothing but stress, i don't think i've ever felt relaxed, i worry i'm gonna get fired over every mistake or otherwise idk punished somehow? even though that never happens and i think my social anxiety is a bit tied to it too, like at least once a week i feel like my boss is mad at me cause it's hard to interpret text language sometimes cause we IM each other a lot even though then i'll like face to face talk to her later and it'll be like nothing happend? which then just furthers my thinking it's all me and idk what happened to me in the past to make me just so terrified of anybody talking to me in a stern tone or showing vague upset/dislike towards me?

anyway. i appreciate the advice...again something i have to take seriously and try again

[passthroughtime]

kuwana, seconds before his traumadump:

[douwatahima]

what if...i watched the uthodurn arc again???