#ill get down off my soap box.

[megalommi]

I have some thoughts, in light of news that Underverse is cancelled.

Being put up on a pedestal is an inherently dehumanising experience, whether you're being idolised or demonised.

I've gone through a bit of harassment, demonising, bullying. It's a micro version of what the biggest creators in a field experience, but even THAT is extremely traumatising. It's one of the factors that contributed to my severe burn out.

Don't assume that it's because any particular fandom is 'toxic', because fandoms are just made of individuals, and you will always find bad behaviour and, yes, even abusers and predators, in any fandom and in any community. There are no squeaky clean communities. They are made of people, and people are messy and complicated. People are capable of incredible compassion, and of horrifying abuse.

This is a good time to self reflect, and practise not being reactionary. There will always be pressure to appear good on social media, and that will feel like a time limit. The healthy and mature thing to do is to step away and reflect on it, speak privately to trusted confidants, and collect information in which to make an informed decision.

The pressure you put on yourself to be perfect is also the pressure you put on others to do the same. You project that energy out into the world. Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others.

And think very carefully about what justice means to you, how that looks. Who stands to benefit, and what the consequences are of pursuing it, or not. Does rehabilitation factor in to your view of justice? What does being held accountable mean to you, and how long does the punishment last?

And this is all most important when the accusations are so serious, the more serious the alleged action, the more careful you should be. Acting is becoming complicit, and your own individual actions are always meaningful and far reaching, even if it doesn't seem like it. Make sure you know exactly what you are becoming complicit in.

Be honest with yourself.

Being part of a community is work, there will always be conflict. You need to learn how to foster a better, healthier community. Not perfect. Better.

[the-californicationist]

The Window (4 of 7)

Ch 01 // Ch 02 // Ch 03 // Ch 04 // Ch 05 --- AO3 Link

Seeing him again had been a shock. They’d arrived late — not that you were checking on their flight or anything — and they were all a bit worse for wear. Usually, after any mission, good or bad, the flight home was cathartic. Everyone could breathe easy. They were going home to good food and infinite WiFi. It was cause for celebration, no matter how beaten and bruised they felt. But, this time was different.

Price was walking through the hangar while you were cataloging ammunition shipments, lowly desk work while your leg healed up, and he looked so small. Well, he still towered over all of the other soldiers in the bay - except for Ghost - but he just looked so pale and listless. His eyes were dull, staring at the ground, watching his feet take their steps, aimlessly driven to his next destination. 

Ghost followed him, equally distracted. His mask was off, and you could see his eye-black smeared all the way down to his mouth, like he’d been rubbing his face, fretting. Gaz had looked furious. He was tossing their gear like it had personally offended him, and he railed into one of the trainees for getting in his way. His warm brown eyes had turned cold and harsh, unfeeling. 

Soap was the worst. He jumped from the chopper and immediately started to scan the room, looking for you. He pulled one of the mechanics aside and you heard him asking for you by name, and as the man pointed in your direction, you hid behind the crates. Undeterred, he headed your way, so you crawled into the dark space between where he wouldn’t find you. He searched and searched, pushing aside heavy boxes and truck wheels, hunting for you. He became frantic, pacing back and forth, until Price called his name. His eyes lingered on the darkness where you were hidden, looking but not seeing. Then, glassy-eyed, he retreated, his gaze turning from desperation to unbridled frustration. 

It was when you’d been trying to sneak back to the barracks that Price had found you, chasing you through the base. You weren’t running, per se, but you were moving quick enough, and you had quite the head start. He, however, was sprinting, pushing people out of his way, calling after you. When he saw the look on your face, he knew he was in trouble. 

“Get back here, Sparrow! That’s an order,” he shouted down the hall. 

You turned around to face him, throwing up your hands in an exaggerated shrug,

“You’re not my CO, sir.”

“Spar — Get out of the bloody way!” He shoved a trainee into the wall, pushing past him in an attempt to follow you to your room. 

Price was panting, his chest heaving as he grabbed for you, his hands sinking into your soft flesh. You wrenched your body away from him and blocked him from coming into your room. He furrowed his brow and said,

“It’s Sunday. It’s my day.”

“I’m already pregnant. Your services are no longer needed,” you spat, “Much like mine, apparently.”

You tried to shut the door on him, but he blocked it with his huge shoulders, looking at you with a ravenous hunger in his eyes,

“I just got back from the fuckin’ sandbox. We can fight later, but I need you, little bird. Please.”

“And I need you to go fuck yourself… sir.” You slammed the door so hard that you thought you broke the hinges. 

You listened to the handle jiggle in the lock from Price’s audacity. Then, silence. 

Why was it the silence that hurt the worst?

Soap was at your door that night, banging on it, shaking the frame,

“Bonnie! I ken you’re in there. Lemme in. I jus’ wanna talk to you. Bonnie?”

Silence again, and then there was a slow, wiping sound against the door, like a big palm being slid down it. 

“Sparrow? Please.” His voice was so strange. It seemed small. Usually, Soap was the loudest, the most boisterous. And now, he sounded ill. 

You listened at the door, hurt and angry, but missing your men. Hearing Johnny beg was almost enough to make you unlock it. Almost.

Over the next week, they all tried to get back in your good graces. Gaz brought you flowers no matter where you were. He covered your desk with them, and you kept throwing them out or giving them away. He left them outside your door, sitting in the hall, complete with little handwritten cards: 

I’m so sorry, baby. Please text me? - G.

Come to the main hall? We just need to talk. - G.

You ripped his notes up and tossed them in the trashcan irreverently. 

Johnny had been a little less subtle. At the end of a long day, he’d be waiting outside your door, sometimes alone, sometimes with the others, trying to get you to listen to him, 

“C’mon, bonnie. Dinnae shut us out. Please, lass.”

You had become an expert at the cold shoulder. 

Ghost, fitting with his quiet demeanor, wouldn’t beg. In fact, he wouldn’t say a word. But, he followed you everywhere, haunting your office, stalking you at the gym, sitting at your table during briefings. One time, he cornered you in the elevator, riding with you past his own floor, his eyes burning into your skin. 

And then there was Price. Other than his presentations during mission briefings, you hadn’t heard his voice since that very first day. But, he was always around. His smoke gave him away. Your room reeked of his tobacco, and when you were working, you’d smell it in the air. But, when you’d look up to spot him, he was nowhere to be found. 

That didn’t mean he failed to reach out to you. He was always on your phone. He called you every morning when he woke up, and he called again every night when you went to bed. You never picked up, but as you lay in bed watching his smiling face pop up on your home screen again, this time, you did.

You didn’t say hello. You just waited to hear what he had to say. You needed to hear him again. Anything. Just a hello. 

“Sparrow, it was me. It wasn’t them. You have to forgive them. I was the one who —”

You hung up the phone and cried into your pillow hard enough to make yourself sick. 

After that night, things got so much worse. Your emotions were raw, and everything made you terribly sad. Your body was in desperate need of someone to care for it, and your hormones were going absolutely haywire. You were either nauseated or horny, and there was no warning which would hit at any given moment. 

You found yourself sneaking out of work early, hiding in the shower, furiously coming on your hand over and over, thinking - wishing - that it was Soap's or Gaz's mouth instead. When you lay in bed at night, you desperately ground your hips into your dildo, riding it like you wanted to ride John and his men, wanton and soaking your sheets.

Eventually, you had reached your limit, and you met Soap, Gaz, and Ghost in the mess hall. They were all sufficiently apologetic, and they were curious as to what had changed your mind.

“Dinnae get me wrong, lass. It’s been hard without you, and I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but… why are you forgivin’ us?”

“Price told me what he did. He said it wasn’t your decision to take me off the team.”

“That’s not true,” Ghost refuted, earning himself a swift nudge from Soap and a glare from Gaz. 

“Shut up, mate. Do y’know how long it’s been since —” Gaz hissed, but Ghost interrupted him.

“The captain was the one who fought to keep you on the task force. He was out-voted.”

“Out-voted? There’s only four of you. Should’ve been at draw…” you observed.

“Exactly. We all voted against him. You’ve no bloody business on the field right now, and you know it. You can barely sit here with us for ten goddamn minutes before you’re sprintin’ off to wretch in whatever can’s the closest.”

You averted your eyes from him, trying to process what he was saying, and feeling the sting of shame when you had to admit that he was right. This first trimester had been an absolute nightmare. You were a sweaty, puking mess here in the offices, and you shuddered to think of feeling this way out in the Urzikstani sands, getting shot at, eating nothing but MREs and instant decaf coffee. 

“We just wanted the best for you, birdie,” Gaz reached out for your hand and held it in his, “We know how badly you want this baby, and we…” He looked at the others for a moment and said, “And we’ve fallen in love with you, Sparrow. We can’t lose you. Let us take care of you.”

You were so tired, and you needed to release the tension you’d been holding inside of your chest, so you relented. 

They followed you back to your room and sat you on the bed, kissing you so deeply that you could feel their hunger. They’d been waiting for you. 

All of them were dripping with precome, and you watched as it stained the thick canvas fabric of their pants, making you wonder if they’d even touched themselves in the time they were apart from you. 

They began to strip themselves and you, kissing every bit of your skin, leaving purple marks from their aggressive desire. Gaz held your hand to his crotch and rubbed it across the front, making you feel his hardening rod, encouraging you to stroke him. Johnny was busying himself with your pants, aching to put his mouth on your molten core, and just the thought of his tongue was enough to make you shiver. 

Ghost bent to suck at your nipples, peeling your shirt and bra off in one go, and you held his head, cradling him with as much affection as you could muster, but as you looked up at you, he knew there was something wrong. 

“Hey, stop.”

The others, as if burned, immediately stopped their worship of your body and looked up at you. 

Ghost continued to pry,

“What is it, love?”

“I just…” You could feel yourself start to cry. 

“You miss him, don’t you?”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You may have forgiven Simon, Johnny, and Kyle, but you missed John. You needed him there. Without him, even their kisses felt hollow. 

“We’ll bring him back to you, dinnae fash, hen,” Soap reassured you, throwing on his shirt. 

“C’mon, he’s in the gym. I saw him with his bag,” Ghost followed Soap out of your door, hard as a stone and trying to adjust himself to something a little less indecent. 

Gaz kissed your lips, his full mouth warm and tasting of cinnamon sugar,

“Be right back, pretty girl.”

You waited five minutes, then ten. You decided to lay down, just for a moment, and before you knew it, you were out. 

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but you woke up in someone’s arms, opening your eyes and watching as he lay you in the big, combined bed the five of you shared. You turned to see his face when you felt him crawl into the sheets beside you, blinking the sleep away and trying to catch your bearings. 

“John?” You croaked, struggling to find your voice. 

“Shh,” he whispered, “Go back to sleep, little bird.”

“They told me…”

“I know. They bloody well shouldn’t have. You need them. You’re both going to need them.”

“I can’t be mad anymore, John. I’m so tired. I just want you all back. Please,” you clutched at his chest, drawing him closer to you in the small bed, “Don’t leave me again.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Sparrow. Here. Feel?”

John’s huge cock was half-hard, and he fit it inside you, slipping it into your wet pussy, squeezing himself through you, just as he loved to do, letting you warm him up. The shock of it went right to your head, and you gasped, hiding your face in the fur of his chest, letting his arms wrap around you protectively. 

“I’ll stay right here, birdie. As long as you want me to.”

“Aye,” Soap’s voice spoke up in the darkness, deep and low, “We all will. Tha’s a promise, lass.”

One by one, each of your men came back into the bed, laying their heavy arms over you and each other, bodies and limbs tangled and gripping at whatever flesh they could find. 

You felt Ghost’s hand slide over your hip, resting his hand on your belly protectively. Gaz leaned over Price to kiss you before settling his arm over the captain’s ribs, his arm cradling your arm as you cuddled with John. Soap’s feet were wrapped around yours, keeping them warm. 

As he hardened inside of you, John kissed your forehead softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, John.”

A part of you was still upset at how heavy-handed they had been with your independence, but you felt your smooth muscles fluttering against John’s cock, and it was getting harder and harder to hold onto the anger that you so desperately wanted to let go of. 

As they all settled in to sleep, you decided to try and rekindle the bond that had been broken. You rocked your hips forward, sliding your slick body up and down Price’s fat length. His eyes shot open, burning into you with a dark passion.

“Little bird?”

Your lips found his neck, trailing wet kisses up to his earlobe, taking it in your mouth and suckling at his skin. 

“Not tired, love?” Simon asked, planting his own kisses on your shoulder blades, coaxing your hips to rock back and forth, chasing your high. 

“You need us, innit tha’ right, lass?” Johnny’s fingers reached over your hip, following Simon’s and then trailed down, finding your swollen clit and rubbing slow, tight circles around it, making you soften around Price like an opening bud, petting your petals until you practically unfurled for him. 

“Ungh, Garrick. What are you… “ Price growled through gritted teeth. 

You watched as Kyle licked his hand and tucked it behind John’s back, heading for his tight asshole, fucking him gently on his fingers. 

“Keep fucking our girl, Cap. She needs you,” Kyle told him, “I’ll take care of you, sir.”

“I’m not as patient as the sergeant is, lover,” Simon rustled under the sheets to find his cock, and he held it in his fist, pumping it against your plump ass cheek, “Will you let me in?”

You turned over your shoulder and let him kiss you, feeling his soft lips slide against yours, giving him your tongue to suck on as his hands kneaded your sensitive breast. 

“Yes, Si,” you whispered, “Anything you want.”

You thought his reaction to your words was a little over the top, but Ghost was reacting to Soap, ducked below the sheets, eating his asshole, shoving his tongue deep in the tight opening, prepping him for more. 

Simon tucked his cock between your legs, spitting on his hand and rubbing it on you and himself, lubing you up in a messy, frantic sort of way, too desperate to care about finding a bottle of gel somewhere in the room. 

Johnny was already rutting into his lieutenant, making Simon’s cock leak and jump, excited and drooling for its own warm hole. When you felt his head touch your asshole, you sighed at the tingling electricity building there, eager to be stretched by him. Finally, he popped into your ass, and he began to fuck himself up into you, inch by inch, filling you up. 

Price was grinding his fat dick inside of you, and he groaned when he felt Simon join him on the other side, making you even tighter, forcing the captain to struggle to fit. 

Soon, all five of you were fucking each other at the same time, moaning and kissing and licking one another’s skin, twisted together in a wet mess, and you had never felt such pleasure before. It was as if you were all on the edge, ready to come at the faintest breath of an orgasm, waiting for the spark to ignite the whole room into an explosion of ecstacy. 

“Mmf-fuck!” Simon’s hand wrapped itself around your neck, “Your fuckin’ arsehole feels like heaven, love.”

“Dinnae stop, Si. I can feel when you bottom out in her. Makes you so tight, mate,” Johnny begged him, pinching the lieutenant’s nipples between his fingers over and over, teasing him relentlessly. 

“You alright, little bird?” John asked you, kissing you softly, barely dragging his lips across yours, dreamily moving against you harder and harder, chasing his pleasure, “Fuckin’ Garrick is takin’ away my stamina every time he rams into me like that. Gonna make me come too quick, Gaz.”

“Sorry, sir,” Kyle smiled, giving you a wink, as he licked and nipped at the same earlobe that you had, remembering how much he loved that spot, “Feels too good to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you moaned, wrapping your hands around John’s shoulders, holding on for dear life, “Don’t ever stop.”

While you wait for the next chapter, please consider checking out my other work. Thank you!

[poetryandfluffycats]

His Girl~

A/N: part of my Nikolai stalker au! might be the last one for awhile since for may ill be on the grind for enstars NSFW month🤍

Pairing: Kidnapper!Nikolai Gogol x fem!reader

Content: Bathing with kidnapper Nikolai...

Warnings: kidnapping, suggestive(?)

Words: 887

Oneshot under cut!

"Dove, how would you like a bath?"

Nikolai leaned over my shoulder, wrapped his arms around my middle and squeezing my belly fat. "Hm, and maybe some new clothes? You must be getting sick of this old number! Aha!"

A bath? I would've loved a bath. It'd been so long since the last time I'd properly bathed, my only way of cleaning myself whilst down here being a dirty rag and a bucket. Even though there was a bathtub in the bathroom of the basement, Nikolai had never let me use it for whatever reason.

The thought of clean water, soap, shampoo, maybe even bubbles? It had me tingling. New clothes too? Clearly something had put Nikolai in a good mood today, which I wasn't going to complain about.

Something about the offer, however, made me shiver. Something about the way he held me, about the way he squeezed me just a bit too tight, told me that he wasn't doing this out of the kindness of his own heart.

"That sounds nice..." I mumbled, turning my head around to face him. There it was, that stare again. Pupils blown out beyond humanness, jagged teeth showing in his wide grin.

Anyone would've called me crazy if I told them, but that was his happy face.

"Wonderful! Yes, let's get you all nice and squeaky clean, hm?"

He intertwined his fingers with mine, a bounce in his step as he dragged me towards the bathroom, which was located in the far corner of the basement. Once inside, he closed and locked the door behind us, patting the counter top and gesturing for me to sit down. I did as he wanted, hopping up onto the counter and swinging my legs back and forth.

The action reminded me of when I was a child, watching my mother do her makeup at the vanity while I begged her to put some on me too. I wondered if she missed me, if anyone did.

"Now, I wasn't sure what type of scent you liked, so I got a whole bunch! I think the lady at the store thought I was crazy, aha!" Nikolai giggled, opening the cabinet beneath me and pulling out bottle after bottle of shower products. "Strawberry, peach, vanilla, cherry, this ones called 'A thousand wishes' how odd...! Oh, bath salts, you need bath salts! Here, I got a few options for those as well"

"Vanilla sounds nice" I smiled softly, pointing at the bottle in question. Nikolai grabbed it and popped open the lid, holding it out for me to smell. "Smells nice too"

"Vanila it is then! I'll fill the tub, and you strip for me, mkay? Don't be embarrassed, I'll behave myself! Scouts honour"

Scouts honour? I couldn't imagine Nikolai as a boyscout, actually, I couldn't imagine the manic as a child at all. I preferred to think of him as some sort of demon that just spawned one day as what he is now. What would a younger Nikolai be like? Probably the kind who went around setting bee hives on fire and stealing from the collection box at church.

"Strip, strip, strip! Don't keep me waiting, dove" Nikolai sang, tilting his head to the side, keeping an eye on me as he fiddled with the faucets of the bath.

"Kolya...?" I hesitated in pulling my nightgown off, the fabric bunching up in my grip.

"Hm?"

"Don't stare, okay?"

"You can count on me, love! But, you can't blame me if I do sneak a few peeks, alright? How am I supposed to bathe my girl without looking at her? Hm?"

My girl.

What an idiot. I wasn't his property, you couldn't own a person, didn't matter how long you kept them trapped in your basement.

Without any further trouble, I untied the bow holding my gown together, letting it slip down my frame and pool at my ankles, leaving me completely exposed and vulnerable at Nikolais mercy. I was quick to cover my chest as I hopped off the counter top, trying to keep just an ounce of my modestly intact.

"What a beautiful body-eck! Stupid Nikolai, stupid! She doesn't want you staring! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" The jester hit himself in the head a few times, muttering a string of different curse words with each smack.

"Ah, ignore me, dove. Go on! Baths nice and warm for you!"

I didn't need to be told twice, mumbling a quick thanks as I slid down into the tub. It felt like bliss, the bubbles popping under my weight and creating a tickling sensation on my skin. The water was hot, but not so hot you felt like you might boil to death. Just right.

I reached for the vanilla scented body scrub that Nikolai had layed out for me, only to have him grab my wrist before I could get a hold of it. "Ah-ah-Ah, allow me" He wagged his finger back and forth, grabbing the scrub himself and scooping a generous amount into his palm.

It felt wrong, his grubby hands on my bare skin. This should have been a luxury for me, something to enjoy, but I couldn't help but feel like a piece of meat on display. Mere prey, a toy to dress up.

And in a way I was.

[l0v3tast3]

What if the 141 Team had a y/n that LOVES spiders and has like 5 big ass spiders at home and everytime they see one ( even if it is the ugly ass scary ones) they will go like "omg! How cute!! I am going to keep it!" And gives them stupid names.

✎ i hate spiders with every fiber in my body irl like if they all went extinct i think all my mental illness would be cured but this is cute lol

✎ tags: uhh spiders?, young military reader, gender neutral reader, platonic, fluff, not proofread as usual

♡ you never make any outright mention of it, but they notice your not-so-common love pretty quick. it's not like they expect you to jump up onto a table and scream when you see a spider, but this isn't what they expected either.

♡ you're all at a safehouse, it's your first mission with them and they don't know you very well yet. kyle, price, and you are sitting at a table going over countless building plans while ghost and soap are fiddling with the armory currently set on a coffee table.

♡ kyle looks over at one of the empty chairs and is just like "oh, a spider" and starts rolling up a piece of paper to smack it with, but you've already got it scooped up in your hands. he watches you walk out of the front door, basically coddling it, holding it much closer to your face than most people would.

♡ it happens a couple more times on that mission (the safehouse is kind of old and grungy, just the usual) and everyone sort of takes notice then. soap mentions it while they're scraping the last of whatever is left out of their rations and you're in another room.

♡ "what's with the kid and spiders? why don't they just kill 'em?" he asks, and kyle shrugs, muttering that you just seem to like them. soap shakes his head and suppresses a soft shudder (he does not like them).

♡ later, you're all in a forest surrounding the building you're scoping out. it's all quiet and you're passing along hushed counts of people and potential entrance points through your mics when they hear you let out a soft gasp.

♡ price asks if you're alright and you whisper-yell through the mics "sorry, there's a huge spider here!" and kyle and soap raise their eyebrows at each other while price rolls his eyes. they think that's the end of it, and eventually price says it's time to go back to the safehouse.

♡ you're the first one back and they all walk in to see you at the table with a grungy tupperware box containing, lo and behold, a huge spider. you've poked holes in the top of the box to make sure it could breathe.

♡ soap is the first to speak. "ah, c'mon kid, what the hell is that thing doin' in here?" you give him a slight side-eye and keep cooing at it through the plastic. "i'm keeping it!" you proclaim. "i can do that, right?" you're looking at price with practically doe-eyes now.

♡ price tries to protest that you shouldn't, it could be an invasive species or something, but you shake your head and tell them what type of spider it is, that it's actually pretty common in most countries, you'll make sure it doesn't get out, that you've had a couple of these before in the past so you know how to take care of it.

♡ "you've had a couple? like as pets?" soap asks incredulously and you just nod without giving him a glance. he gives you a weird look before following ghost to dump his gear off next to his cot. ghost has already been giving you weird looks through the mask, but he doesn't say anything.

♡ price gives up pretty quick and saying no and just tells you to make sure it stays in the box and you nod and promise you will. kyle sits down with you, albeit across from you instead of next to you, and eyes it warily.

♡ "it won't bite! this one's nice. the ones i have at home will though," you joke, and kyle scoots his chair back a teensy bit. price laughs at him.

♡ they learn that you have five other spiders at home. you whip out your phone, eager to show them pictures when they express vague interest, and soap leaves the room entirely. ghost rolls his eyes at him but doesn't move to come see the pictures either. kyle just says "oh... nice!" and price nods along.

♡ they try to limit your collecting habit in the future, but it's hard for them to say no to you. you keep showing them you're ever-growing collection every time you guys see each other again, and kyle ends up knowing all your spiders by name (regardless of if he actually wanted to or not, he just doesn't want to be mean).

✎ hnghhn sorry i've been gone so long again lol i'm writing again tho i promise <3

[itsohh]

Mi Calvario

A/N: Female reader, didn't want to write a full series so here's just a bunch of snippets of events that took place. Anything in box brackets is spoken in Spanish. (Because like who wants to try scroll for a key during a fic, not me and my Spanish is horrible. (I cheated in Spanish class in highschool))

Summary: With Las Almas in ruin, Rudy makes sures to check up on the only other Vaqueros who isn't in prison. Wife of Alejandro, you insist on joining Rudy in the fight. Despite the constantly underlying illness that keeps you out of the field, your determined to fight for your home.

Word count: 1981

Warnings: None

AO3 Masterlist

Ever one with the shadows, Ghost paused with his reunion with Rudy. "Who's your friend?" His eyes glanced to the darkest corner of the room, Soaps soon followed his lead. Soap really had to squint and then the smallest movement came.

"[Stand down.]" Rudy didn't need to turn his head for you to know he was speaking to you.

"[Look at you Rudy, still making friends even at this age huh?]" Out from the shadows you stepped, rifle now slung over your shoulder.

"[More of Alejandro's friends but eh.]"

"[Always was the one to work well with others.]" You fiddled with the strap of your glove around your rist, tightening it slightly.

In full view of the moon light the two SAS operatives were able to see your full form.

"Forgive me, this Ghost and Soap."

"Pleasure." Soap smiled and Ghost nodded to you.

"This is Major-"

"Ah not any more. That's you now." You tutted. Rudy paused and glanced towards the men.

"She's ex Vaqueros."

"Ex?" Soap raised a brow.

"Retired if you believe it. Well, at least I was until the entire fucking city went up in smoke."

"Bit young to be retired?" Soaps question had you light slightly under your breath.

"Ah, a charmer. My retirement wasn't one of my own will. Medical reasons. Active duty kept it making it worse." A sigh left your mouth. "I would have kept working until I dropped but ah Alejandro wouldn't have it. Caring bastard. Don't worry, it won't affect my performance." You gave him a wink.

"Alejandro's going to kill me for getting you involved."

"Think the whole citys involved at this point. Think the question is, what is this? What shit have we stepped into?"

Ghost glanced at Soap, a small nod before he opened his mouth.

-

"So, your close with Alejandro?" Soap asked as the four of you approached the prison.

"Very."

"What made you join the Vaqueros?"

"Alejandro of course. There's not many people out there who are as passionate about their home like he is. I was I suppose when it comes down to it, a drifter. Just went and did what my military told me to. It wasn't until I met Alejandro that I realized why we fight. His passion is contagious." There was a gleen to your eyes as you spoke.

"You sound like you idolized him."

"I do, in a way. If there's anyone worth dying for it would be him."

"[Yeah but he's also your husba-]" Rudy started to speak before you interupted him with a harsh but non serious tone.

"[Shut up.]" A deep breath left your lips. "[I'll have you know, I've believe that long since anything happened between us. Besides you feel the same way, I don't see how that would relate at all.]"

"[I wasn't trying to make an attack I was just bringing it up.]" The pair of you started to bicker, still rather teasing. Your words so fast, Soap wasn't unable to keep up. Ghost could.

-

"I'll take point." You nodded to Ghost as he braced against Alejandro's cell door. At your signal, he opened the door and you took a step in. To an empty room? Your thought and slight confusion was cut off when your back slammed against the wall of the cell. Alejandro's arm pressed against your throat and anger consumed his face. Despite the pain, you couldn't help but stare at him in glee. You loved to see him like this and it felt far too long since you had seen him at all. The sweet sound of Alejandro's demanding voice filled your ears and Rudy quickly jumped to your defense.

Alejandro's eyes blinked and he glanced from Rudy to you. "[If you wanted to get rough darling I won't complain but perhaps let's keep that to our bedroom hmm?]" You groaned slightly and Alejandro immediately stepped forward even closer. There was no gap between the two of you. Both hands on the side of your face, his lips roughly pressed against yours. A thousand words all put in one kiss.

"Oh!" Soaps' surprised voice broke the pair of you from your little world.

Just as quickly as it started, he stopped.

The group of you had a job to do.

"[What are you doing here, you should be safe at home?]" His voice was one of concern but still adoration. It seems it was a mutual agreement that the pair of you hadn't seen each other recently enough.

"[And leave you to rot in this old prison? Never.]" He flashed you a smile as he was given a weapon.

"[That's my girl. My Calvary eh?]"

"[Make no mistake darling, I'm still very much retired. I'm not Calvary anymore."]

"[Nonsense, your always my Calvary, once Vaqueros always Vaqueros.]"

-

Gloves off, Alejandro subtly rubbed your hand while Price made his speech. When you went to reach for the mask, Alejandro grip tightened.

"[This isn't your fight.]" His voice hush, low enough for only you to hear.

"[Did all those years mean nothing? Los Vaqueros is my family, Alejandro. That place is my home too. I'm not letting some fucking entitled little American take it. He needs to pay for burning our city.]" Alejandro glanced away for a moment but let go of your hand.

"[I missed seeing that fire of yours.]" He grinned, eventually turning back to face you, he wouldn't fight you on this. Alejandro gave you a nod as you took the mask into your personal. There was still a lot of prep to do.

-

Adjusting the scope on your gun, you didn't look up as Soap approached you. Ghost hovered near by the man, an eye on the pair of you. "You alright?" He placed your gloves on the crate near to you. They had been on the planning table.

"No complaints here Sergeant."

"Arthritis?" He glanced down towards your hands. "You keep stretching your hands."

"Carpal tunnel." You looked up and placed the gun down before you hopped up on the grate. "The vibrations from gunfire make it flare up."

"Alejandro seemed worried. He keeps staring at your hands."

"Mmm." You eyes flashed over to Alejandro you true to Soaps words, was staring at you. When you eyes caught his, he gave you a smile and looked back towards Rudy who was well used to his behavior. "He's protective like that. When this is over, ugh I'm not going to be able to do anything around the house." Despite the annoyance in your voice, there was a warm smile on your face.

"How long have the pair of you been together? I don't think I've seen anyone look at another person like Alejandro looks at you."

"Ah, officially about four years give or take. [What about Ghost?]" Your eyes flashed over to the man who stood, watching and no doubtly listening to your conversation. Soap gave you a slightly confused look while Ghost silently glared into your soul. He certainly heard you. A laugh bubbled from your chest and you lightly hit the side of his arm. "Ah perhaps you will understand when your older Sergeant."

"Heard that one before. Why'd they call you Calverio?"

"Calvary. Ah you show up one time on horseback and you don't hear the end of it."

"What happened?"

"Ask Alejandro that one when you're not busy. It's his favourite story to exaggerate. His entire face lights up. Only other story that makes his face light up I think is our wedding day."

"A good day I presume."

"One of the best, a little bit daunting on my side though."

"How so?"

"Ah, lots of people, lots of traditions. It's was a massive, massive festival. Then there was always that unlying threat. What if someone took this opportunity to kill us."

"Someone would do that?"

"People will do anything when they're desperate. When their hate rules their honor."

"Ain't that the truth."

"But." Your face lit up with a smile. "Everything went according to plan. I remember him complaining about his checks hurting a few days later from smiling too much." Your smile turned into a laugh. "I actually have a photo in my wallet if you would like to see."

"Of course, bit surprised you have it on you."

"I came in my normal clothing. I use these shoes to do shopping." You hummed and brought out your wallet. Soap watched as you pulled back a small compartment and pulled out a picture. It had creases on the folds and could see how you had taped it up to prevent it from deterioration. He leaned forward and moved next to you to look at the picture.

There in the middle of a massive group of people, the pair of you stood. Both dressed in white surrounded by friends and family. He could see the walls of brightly coloured flowers in the background only outshone by the smiles on your face. At first, Soap could only recognise the pair of you and Rudy who stood next to Alejandro.

"Wow, you look beautiful."

"I'm just glad you can't notice that I was still crying."

"You were crying?"

"Yeah, Alejandro was crying too. That happened at the reception though. I think that's when it was sinking in." Soap squinted at the picture for a moment.

"Is that Laswell?" He pointed to the back of the picture. It was almost impossible to see her with the woman next to her.

"It is. Yeah, Kate and her wife showed for the ceremony. Didn't stay too long at reception. They didn't really know too many other people. Regardless, it was good to see them. Mmm, if we ever end up renewing our vows you should come. It would be fun to have you all there."

"And see Alejandro, a blubbering mess? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Of course that's if we get around to it. Maybe one day in the future. Alejandro's a very busy man and this whole thing is going to make him a lot busier. Perhaps he would let me come back to work." You hummed, your eyes trailing off the picture to find Alejandro but failing your mission.

"Not going to happen." A hand on your shoulder practically made you jump. So used to Alejandro's movements, you had almost become immune to it. His steps, his presence didn't set off a single red flag in your head so often he would get the element of surprise on you. "Showing Soap pictures of our wedding are you?" You head turned to see that light expression on his face.

"Just the one. I could do some desk work-"

"[No. I recall the doctor saying that desk work would perhaps make your hands even worse.]"

"Ah there's no arguing with you about this is there. Can't blame a girl for trying no?"

-

"[Perfect time to renovate.]" The pair of you stared at the base.

"[Will have to.]" He agreed. "[How's the house?]"

"[Unaffected. The Shadows didn't come that far out.]" He turned to face you, suspicion on his face. "[Rudy originally only came to check up on me.]"

"[Let me guess, you insisted on join him?]"

"[He could get all the help he could and you know he was never really good at saying no to me.]"

"[That's only because you don't listen when people tell you no.]"

"[Your one to talk Colonel.]" You drape your wrists around his neck, his eyes on yours. "[I felt like I've just woken up from a nightmare in a way. All this destruction doesn't seem real.]"

"[Mmm woken from a nightmare into a dream perhaps.]" His eyes flickered from yours down to your lips for a moment, you knew exactly what he wanted. A request you were happy to make. With a roll of your eyes you granted his silent request, his upon his as the sun set behind you.

[risetherivermoon]

i like ranting about my own works, so have a bunch of little details about the universe of how to not die young, basically just some small little canon things i like (some may be written & some i might not get to adding,) (psa, some are silly & happy and some are very much not,) (another psa, there is no major spoilers in these,)

middle school James had a baby mustache that he insisted he'd grow out but he eventually shaved it off because he hated the sensory of it

Sirius and Mary used to date, but they split up when they both realized how gay they are (now theyre just very good friends)

Lily and Remus met because Lily used to be the librarian's assistant and he kept hiding in there, (he also had a shit ton of overdue books)

Remus' mom has a degree in english literature, but right now she works for tech support at an old person's home

Remus has never gone trick or treating

Regulus was a biter as a child, Sirius has a scar to prove it

Marlene tries really hard to impress Dorcas but fucks it up everytime by either tripping over her own feet or saying the wrong thing, (Dorcas thinks its cute)

Barty has eaten a bar of soap before

Evan knows Monty because he works as the secretary at his doctors office,

Barty has never met any of his grandparents because his parents never bothered introducing him,

Remus can handle any other kind of 'after fight reactions' besides the silent treatment/being ignored, it makes him severely anxious (*cough* trauma *cough*)

Barty has never watched spongebob,

alternatively, Evan was a spongebob lover as a child

Pandora once tried to see how many crayons she could stick up Evan's nose while he was sleeping, he didn't wake for like twenty minutes, the answer is 17

James absolutely loves children

Dorcas and Barty have spa nights

Regulus is observant as fuck, and knows things before people tells him all the time, it freaks people out

Regulus steals things from Sirius constantly because it's funny,

Barty almost died as a kid because he choked on a coin (he was 13)

Remus is a shit chef, he only knows boxed mac and cheese and ramen

Sirius fucking loves baking,

all of the marauders signed Sirius' arm cast with their nicknames,

James has dyslexia

and Remus has dyscalculia (hes me fr)

Remus is very expressive, like you always know what he's thinking,

Regulus burned one of his bras in a trash can after Sirius let him smoke one time

Peter ate an entire block of cheese on a dare

Mary practices her makeup on Peter

Sybil does palm readings for Peter, he's a very supportive bf

Remus bites Sirius a lot

Marlene punched a teacher in the face on accident before,

Minnie & Poppy are married <3

Barty only has Remus' number to send him the most atrocious takes he has at like three in the morning - Remus leaves him on read frequently

Sybil and Pandora are fairly good friends

Pandora and Evan had a Wii U as kids and Evan was the fucking best at Wii bowling, you have no idea, (he has his own technique, he calls it 'the Evan Method')

Pandora likes eating pomegranates and then going up to Evan and smiling at him with red stained teeth, he screams like a little girl everytime

James has always wanted a little sibling

James' parents don't know he has anxiety problems because he just stuffs it down so much

Sirius eats dandelions, for some fucking reason, he's just weird

Regulus used to have dinner alone some nights because he'd skip dinner with the family to avoid the constant loudness and bickering, sometimes he'd make something for himself, sometimes Kreacher would make something for him and sit with him

Regulus tells Sirius whenever his boobs hurt because it makes Sirius gag

James and Remus are the ultimate people pleasers

anyways, thats all, maybe ill make more, i have sm brainrot for this fic, theyre all my children

[hezzabeth]

The lost princess, the biggest grandest portrait in the entire gallery, stared down at Revati. Amma had often said many claimed she was the most beautiful woman on Mars. Papi would then laugh and say she didn't hold a torch to Amma. Revati honestly agreed with her father; the princess always seemed to have an insipid, fragile look to her. She seemed like the sort of person who would cry when stepping on an ant. Also, her saree in the picture was a hideous combination of beige and mustard yellow.

"Drink, Ma'am?" a tourist dressed in an ill-fitting servant's uniform asked, holding up a tray.

When it became clear that everyone was going to be trapped in the park forever, people started getting creative. Revati's father had raided the tea shops on Baker Street for any easy-to-grow fruits and vegetables. Thankfully, he came across a bag of potatoes, some old lettuce, and the heads of a few carrots. By the time the supply of souvenir-themed food had run out, they had their own little garden.

"Nice to know you're using the potatoes I traded with you to make strawberry vodka instead of food," Revati sniffed, grabbing one of the glasses. Thirteen years later, Jay's vegetable scraps were now a profitable farm, guarded that Revati kept heavily under guard.

"At least it's better than the apple drink they were serving last time. I spilt some of it, and the paint melted off the wall," Aurora remarked as she joined Revati.

"True, but I was able to use it to burn that dimwit who tried to break into our rainwater supply," Revati remarked as they moved into the assembly room.

The assembly room had been designed decades ago to resemble a "cherub's paradise." The walls were covered in chipped baby blue paint, while someone had painted a mural of fluffy white clouds and flying naked babies on the ceiling. Forty or so teenagers, the children of Whistleton actors, were lined up in formal outfits with numbers on their chests. When the appliances invaded, the actors on Baker Street had fled for their lives, leaving the tourists to their devices. The actors in Whistleton, on the other hand, seemed to think Armageddon was an excuse to fully commit to their historical romance fantasy. The teenagers all bowed to each other and then began to dance in an intricate pattern. Several servants, trying their best to make music using a prop piano and several empty water jugs, accompanied them. None of the dancers were Dityaa.

"So, are you going to keep the boy or cut him loose?" Aurora asked, and Revati shrugged.

"Not sure yet, the plant thing is interesting… we could use him in the garden," Revati said, weighing her options. Other leaders firmly believed in trimming the fat; Revati, however, knew it was better to turn the fat into soap.

Bridgadeiro was approaching them now, eating a canapé fashioned from strawberries and a lettuce leaf.

"This food is fascinating! It actually tastes like it was grown in the ground," he remarked.

Aurora and Revati exchanged a confused look.

"Of course it was grown in the ground; all the food here is... or they're fried insects," Revati said, explaining. While Baker Street had potatoes and carrots, Whistleton managed to grow strawberries, pineapples, and peaches.

"Really? Where I'm from, only the very rich get to eat actual grown food! We make do with fruit made in our Creatrix," he said before taking another bite of his strawberry lettuce cup.

"What's a Creatrix, mistress?" Aurora whispered to Revati.

"One of those metal box things that makes food and clothes using sand from Saturn, my parents had one before the invasion," Revati explained, and Aurora's eyes widened.

"You mean you live on a planet with actual modern technology? That must be thrilling," Aurora cried, clapping her hands together.

"Well, technically I live on the southwest space station," he said. Revati merely walked away, taking a sip of her drink. It tasted like a mouthful of expired perfume.

A queen was sitting at the very back of the ballroom on a small stage. A majestic queen, her dark skin and towering wig dusted with gold powder. Unlike the other dancers, her ballgown was fluffy, modern, and a deep blood red. She whispered to one of the teenagers in an empire gown standing next to her. Then crisply she nodded towards Revati.

"Well, Queen Victoria has spotted you," Aurora remarked.

"Queen Victoria? Don't you mean Vicky Ditchwater?" Revati smirked.

"Shh! The last person who mentioned her old name got thrown out to the hair dryers," Aurora hissed back, and Revati just shrugged, casually walking across the ballroom, disrupting the dance.

"Mistress Rave, how lovely to see you! And in such a becoming gown," Queen Victoria said, her smile parting into a frozen smile.

"I like your dress as well, is it new?" Revati asked, not really caring to hear the answer.

"The latest design from New Singapore! It's part of a new style called robotic vampirism," the Queen replied.

"And how many of your unmarried subjects did you have to give to the appliances to get it? Three? Four?" Revati asked, raising an eyebrow.

Queen Victoria's expression froze. One thing the appliances were constantly searching for was new fresh feet. One thing Whistleton constantly strived for were "perfect matches."

"Just two, last season was incredibly successful," smiled Queen Victoria serenely.

"And I see this season you have your eyes on my sister”

Revati pointed out.

Here's the corrected version of the text:

"Well, she is uncommonly pretty, and has such a gentle personality," the Queen smiled.

"Gentle personality? Her brain is made out of marshmallows and glitter! The last thing she needs is for the Duke to abandon her in hostile territory," Revati said, folding her arms dramatically, and the Queen waved one hand.

"Oh, she'll be fine! The Duke is a lovely boy! He brought us an entire crate of heating blankets," the Queen said.

"She's clumsy! She trips and sprains her ankle at least once a month; she won't last a week in occupied zones," Revati replied wearily.

"The Duke specifically asked for her! He parachuted from the sky, insisting he was here for the eldest Sheikh sister," Queen Victoria protested, sounding vaguely annoyed.

"He wanted Dityaa? Why would he want her? How would he even know she exists?" Revati asked, incredibly confused. The only record of Dityaa’s existence came from the one year she spent in public school before the invasion.

Once Revati had asked about her birth certificate when working on a recorded list of residents on Baker Street. "Your sister was born in a refugee camp during the beginning of the war! There were no birth certificates," Amma replied.

When they were little, Dityaa would frighten Revati with ghost stories. Tales about how Dityaa’s “other mother” would visit her as a ghost while everyone else slept.

"Do I have another mother who’s a ghost?" whispered Revati, hiding under her blanket.

"No, just me. She says I have four strands of life inside of me instead of two," Dityaa whispered. The stories stopped once they found themselves stranded on Baker Street. Sometimes Revati would wonder if there was any truth to it.

While Revati helped her mother fix broken electronics, Dityaa would spin around giggling. While father and Nani dug up potatoes, Dityaa picked flowers, turning them into a crown. Dityaa wasn’t quite like anyone in the family. But then again, she did look an awful lot like Amma.

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Man those people on your ‘why are you straight edge’ poll are really showing their disdain for people who engage with any sort of drug… if I may add, I voted for having a medical restriction (my liver is failing thank youuuu immune system) AND I also take prescription opiate medication to help with pain. Every time I take my painkillers on days where I’m not working so that I can enjoy my hobbies I have complicated feelings about it because anti opiate rhetoric is just EVERYWHERE and it’s like… I just want to have a nice day. Getting over the ‘oh but it can be ADDICTIVE’ stigma is so important and it’s really not different just because I have a prescription. People who are so nasty about drug use for recreation are so stressful to me.

Ikr it's like people have such disdain for addicts, and drug users in general. I get upset about this because while I personally am a very casual user and I spend most of the time sober and am self assured so I can walk people being dicks about it off, but I know addicts and their lives are hard enough without all the stigma piled on top of it. I just wish everyone could be addiction neutral and pro harm reduction but they're so moralistic about it. I wasnt the politest I could have been about people not drinking and having sex because I was trying to keep it light and I know people take things like this really serious and it kinda backfired.

But like I totally know what you mean about the opioid thing. I really think that our society could benefit from being a little more addiction neutral, because yeah sometimes substance dependency does ruin your life, but I'm neurodivergent and I've met people where I think that doing life with drugs is better for them. Like you raise a great point about opioids. They're dangerous and addictive but if you're in pain because of a disability you need pain management. It's not really an option if you want to lead a normal life. There's a lot of heroin addicts who got that way because they needed pain management and their doctors refused them on the basis that they might become addicted, but taking a daily pill to improve your life, while it may be illegal depending on the substance, isn't bad. I bring up my own neurodivergence because I've heard of the same thing with ADHD and stimulants. Most people who have an ADHD diagnosis can get an Adderall prescription, but undiagnosed people and people falling through insurance cracks will sometimes turn to the street version. And it's like those people, both the ones with a script and the ones who are self medicating, should not be forced to live a substandard life because of someone else imagines there's some purity to a life without drugs. The goal should be to get those people the drugs they need in the safest way possible.

And I come down really easy, to the point where I forget to take prescription meds and don't experience any ill effects, but I have a friend who experiences a come down from their adhd meds thats not unlike the comedown ive seen from my other friend who's a meth user, and this friend with the ADHD meds can't function without them. But when the doctor and the pharmacist get them their meds on time they live a perfectly happy fulfilling life. That's what I mean when I say I'm addiction neutral. Most people who get addicted didn't just pick up heroin or whatever one day for shits and giggles. When I fuck around with "highly addictive" substances I make sure I'm in a good place and it's not a problem to drop them. People who develop problems are usually either they're escaping from something or self medicating. The goal for society can't be to never do drugs we've had drugs literally for longer than we've been humans.

I've heard second hand of a study which I haven't gone looking for, I might, because as you can tell this is a bit of a soap box for me, where they gave Heroin addicts a prescribed dose of heroin like you would pick up Percocet for chronic pain at a pharmacy, and because those addicts weren't shooting up mystery amounts and worrying where they were going to get their next hit from so they didn't start rattling and all the other things that make addicts lives hell, they were able to start doing things like holding down jobs. That study should have been a game changer. I want addicts to be able to live, and selfishly I want to be able to go to the drug store when I'm bored and say "one mdma high no fentanyl please" and leave with something to spice up the afternoon. That's like, not a moral failing on my part even though I'm not self medicating I'm just having fun.

The way the war on drugs has ruined drugs, which like, genuinely drugs are sort of magical when you think about it. Not just the fun ones either. Like when I was a baby I had a really bad bladder infection that absolutely would have killed me if I had had that same situation just like 100 years ago, but my mom was able to force a pill down my throat and it went away. Since then I've probably had at least a dozen little things like that that would have killed me dead if someone hadn't invented a chemical that could interact with my body and make it genuinely not a problem. and the fact that we have that for things like chronic pain and we're too afraid to use it because of stigma is so insane. Like god forbid people get high.

[ghostismybbygorl]

Neighbor troubles

Soap x ghost (in gaz' perspective)

Nsfw: mentions of sex

This is based off of this tiktok

Pic: @pandemicdragon on tiktok

Enjoy >:3

Gaz sat up in bed nestled in his plaid robes with his pink flamigo blanket tucked around him. He was reading soaps book about art having a couple of the pages marked for him to study later. He was finishing up a paragraph where he hear a set of light footsteps walking down the hall and the sound of his neighbors door open

"Youre late" a low whisper emitted

"Yeah i know i know got caught up lookin for my book. Havent a clue where it went"

Gaz's ears perked up when he heard the thick Scottish accent.

Soap....in ghosts?..... in ghosts room?..... this late?

Gaz shook his head head looked at the clock

"Oh wow 2 am" he thought "its actually pretty late" he looked at the page he was on.

"Maybe ill just finish this chapter....."

"OH FUCK!" A loud whisper interrupted his thiughts

Gaz's eye looked up from the works analyzing his surroundings

Did soap stub his toe or something?

Another sound emitted from the room

"Mmm fuck! yes! yes! yes!"

They must be playing smash or something right? Gaz quietly panicked trying to deny the fact that something is happening and returning back to his book.

The he heard the light

Creak...creak....creak...creak

Gaz ket oht a awkward chuckle

Maybe theyre changing seats

"Ohh yeaahhh~" soap moaned

"NOPE" gaz said slamming the book shut and civering his ears

NOPE HIS COMRADES ARENT FUCKING

creak..creak..CREAK...CREAK..BANG!

Maybe they're just wresting? Yeah! Theyre wrestling!

BANG.BANG.BANG

"GOD DONFT FUCKEN STOP OHH FUCK YES YES YES YES!" Soap moaned

gazs eye where wide with shock his ears defiled by the lewd sounds emitting from his neighbors room

He panicked theowing his blanket off of him and running out the door and slamming it shut. He briskly rushed down tge hallway where he still heard the distance sounds of soap getting his back blown out by his lieutenant.

He ran as far as he could go ending up at prices office at the other side of the building. He quickly rushed in closing the door huffing for air

Price jumped out if his seat his the papers he was looking at now littered on the ground

hia cigar that hung from his lips was now on-top of the desk gently letting a small hiss of what was burning below it. Price hurriedly wiped the ashes off the desk placing his cigar on the ash tray next to him

"Fucking hell kyle! What's got you in such a fuckin' tizzy?!"

Gaz froze the words from his lips couldn't form a sentence

"Answer me Sargent! Did you need anything or are you here to give me a good scare?!"

Kyle blinked a couple times before succumbing ti his surroundings

"N-nothing sir....just had a night terror...needed a place to... uh.... calm down?"

Price gave him a series of expressions ranging from concern, confusion and then acceptance

"Right.." price said stacking his papers and setting them on the desk

"Care to talk about i-"

"NO!" Gaz replied harshly "uh i mean no sir i dont want to talk about it"

Price noded his head grabbing his cigar and taking a drag

"Well then" he tapped his cigar on the ash tray the picking it up and walking towards kyle

"You can stay here, ive got a blanket on the loveseat you can use or if you need company i have a sleeping pad in my room you can rest on. Choice is yours" price patted his shoulder walking out of the room taking a puff from his cigar. "Night kid

Gaz sat down on the loveseat wrapping the blanket around his shoulders eventually drifting away to sleep

"Gaz" a hushed whisper emitted

Gaz opened his eyes to see ghost standing there with a box. Gaz immediately shot up rubbing the sleep out if his eyes

"Lieutenant! what uh what are you doing here?"

"Went to drop off some papers for price and saw you sleepin ere" ghost replied handing him the box

"Sorry for uh last night....."

Kyle gingerly grabbed the box which was a nice pair of noise cancelling headphones

"Oh!" Kyle replied "uh...thanks" rubbing his meck

"Yeah..no....no problem... if this uh happens just bang on the wall..."

"Got it...."

There was a awkward silence between the two. Gaz got up from the love seat

"Well im gonna go to my room and uh....get ready for the day"

Ghost nodded as gaz skedaddled to his room to get ready for the day.

Later that night the same thing happened

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump

"FUCK!"

Thump.thump.thump.thump

"MMM DONT FUCKING STOP"

"Jesus fuck!" Gaz yelled how the fuck are they at it again wasn't one night enough? He banged on the wall earning a knock back. Gaz face was in pure confusion did they just knock back??? Gaz heard a snicker behind the wall before the Thump thump thump started back again

Gaz groaned grabbing his headphones and playing some white noise to wash away the lewd sounds that echoed from the lieutenants room. He huffed scrolling through his phone when he got a text from alex

Hey! Ill be around for a short mission tomorrow wanna hang out after? Maybe play some chess? ♟️😉

Gaz smirked

Time for payback 😈



[idolsummons]

Sick Day

It's totally normal for your sister to have objects of the occult hidden in her room, right? Yeah, totally normal.

'Remember, Misaka, you can reach me or your dad if you have any problems, okay?' 'Yes, Mum.' 'You've got both of our numbers?' 'Yes.' 'And my work number?' 'Yes,' she droned. 'And your dad's number?' 'Mum, I just wanna get some rest.' 'Sorry, dear. Alice will be back this afternoon, okay?' And at the risk of contracting Misaka's mystery illness, her mother pressed a kiss to her forehead. 'Bye, Misaka.' 'Bye, Mum.' Misaka closed her eyes and cuddled up in her bed, peacefully napping. That was, at least, until she heard her mum lock the front door behind her and her car pull out of the driveway. That's when her eyes shot open and she slid out of bed.

The truth was, Misaka was perfectly fine, at least physically. The words of her bullies at school had been cutting deep and the prison cell that was the classroom was the last place she wanted to be. Hopefully she could get another day or two off school before her mum tried dragging her off to see a doctor. Now, there were so many ways to fill her day - where to start? There was a marathon of that stupid western soap opera that she'd shamefully gotten hooked on in the past couple of months, but she'd hate to accidentally ruin the outcome of Jamie and Leanne's wedding if she caught a later episode by mistake. There was video games, but she wasn't sure she could stomach the latest RPG with everything swirling around her head. She could always raid the kitchen, of course, but an empty pantry would be a telling story of the truth. That just left one of her other favourite past times. With not an ounce of regret, Misaka walked towards Alice's room and opened the door, leaving it wide open in case she needed to make a sudden escape. Even though she had grown out of typically rifling through anything she could find, Misaka found Alice's room to be a treasure trove of secrets and, given Alice wasn't about to tell her family a single fun fact about herself, Misaka thought it her duty to find out whatever she could about her sister in the hopes of being able to relate to her just a little better. The light flicked on. Alice had so much up on her walls, from posters of gothic bands to paintings which looked to be centuries old (who knew if they really were) and even a framed taxidermy bat which made Misaka feel a little sick whenever she saw it, that it seemed like she was trying to stop any natural light from entering. Now, where to start? The drawers were a decent spot, but much, much too intimate; although Alice did have some admittedly pretty underwear, Misaka did not want to go through it like she was some creepy guy. Under the bed could also hide many secrets, but Misaka had vowed off that area after she once found her birthday present there (a signed copy of Miyu's latest album at the time). Which left one good option: the sizeable wardrobe which took up most of the long wall. Misaka slid the door open and her eyes fell, as usual, immediately upon the plentiful dresses and shirts which hung upon clothes hangers. It was a sea of blacks and deep blues and reds, organised by their colour, some with nice patterns on them. Misaka's personal favourite was one she didn't immediately see here, a deep blue dress with constellations around the skirt. But her eyes travelled down, past the section of platform boots and shoes to boxes which had been pushed to the back and the side, right beside the suitcase which Alice had brought with her to Japan. Remembering a package Alice had received only days prior, Misaka took the top box, crimson red, where she knew her most recent letters to be stored. Misaka placed the box down and carefully removed the lid. Twelve November. That seemed right. And so she began to read:

My dearest Alice,

How long has it been since I last laid eyes on you? Since I last smelled your rose-scented perfume and hair which matches? When will I be able to gaze into your ocean blue eyes once more, or hear that gentle voice leave your lips in the hopes that you will call yourself mine? At times I fear my memories of you are growing hazy, only for my heart to skip a beat as my phone pings to tell me you've posted again! And again I get to remember how beautiful you are, how sweet and doll-like your features, and my mind begins to wander and I imagine you taking the outfit in your picture off layer by layer, leaving you in nothing before -

Nope, nope, nope. She absolutely did not need or want such images of her sister floating around in her head, especially when it came from the mind of some creepy guy obsessed with her. Misaka jammed the letter back into the box and put the lid back on top and the entire box back in its original position. A shiver went down her spine. Gross. Her eyes then came to the white suitcase, which she pulled out from behind the dresses, careful not to mess them up. As she did, the contents of the suitcase could be heard within, thudding gently against its walls. A puzzle will get my mind off that. The truth was that as much as Misaka had gallivanted about Alice's room, not once had she ever been able to get the combination lock correct. Every time she would move a few numbers around in the hopes of hearing that promising little click. Where was I up to? 0600... Nothing. 0601... Nothing. 0602... Nothing. 0603... Click. Misaka could feel her heart ready to jump right out of her throat. She laid the suitcase down on its side. Alice knew well enough that Misaka enjoyed going through her belongings. Whatever was in the suitcase had to be her most personal possessions. Something from France, she assumed. Misaka unzipped the suitcase. Perhaps a keepsake of her mother... She opened it up. Inside she found nothing like what she expected.

A black robe. A dagger with a silver hilt, symbols which she did not recognise inscribed upon it, and a curved blade. A book with no title, but symbols which resembled those upon the dagger. Misaka's hands shook. Alice was strange - Misaka didn't really understand the whole goth thing - but a dagger? Why would she need a weapon? She picked up the book. Opened it. Inside, at least, were words, written in French. Maybe it's her journal. Misaka pulled out her phone and brought up the translation app. As she scanned over the pages, the words appeared on her screen translated into Japanese. Her stomach dropped. Sacrifices. Blood rituals. Demon possession. All in the name of - the app couldn't translate the word into Japanese, but she knew enough English to be able to read the word - Vh'thra. This is all just some work of fiction, right? 'Misaka!' The growl came from behind her but there was no time to process it before she was thrown to the ground. Alice kneeled over her. 'A - Alice,' stammered Misaka, 'I thought you weren't meant to be home u - until later.' 'Shut up.' She hadn't heard her sister talk like this in a long time. 'How many times have I told you not to go through my stuff?' 'Wh - what is all this?' 'How did you get into my suitcase?' Misaka's eyes followed Alice's hand as she reached over and grabbed the dagger. She brought it high above her head, aimed right towards Misaka's chest. She was unblinking, unwavering, like this was nothing new to her. 'You're going to keep this to yourself, aren't you?' Misaka didn't move. 'Because if you don't, there will be grave consequences for you.' She wanted to say something, make a counter threat. I know about all those men chasing you. About the manipulation. I know about the baby. Nothing came out. 'And if you tell Mayumi and Taichi -' Alice brought the dagger down, close to Misaka's neck. Alice herself leaned in close so she could see little more than Alice's face and those pretty blue eyes that looked so intimidating now - 'then I will not hesitate to end you all and make it look like a fucking accident. Got it?' No response. Alice pressed the dagger against Misaka's skin. 'Got it?' 'Y - yes, A - Alice.' Tears filled Misaka's eyes. Alice stood. 'Now, get out of my room, and I better not see you in here again. Understand, you piece of shit?' Misaka, shaking violently, could only nod. She ran out as quickly as she could and back to her room, where she would spend the rest of the day hiding under her covers, crying her eyes out.

[poppiesforthirteen]

For the character ask game:

1 character : Yasmin Khan

2 characters: the TARDIS and the Doctor

3 characters: Prof. Yana, Agent O and President Saxon

Pretty please :) (feel free to choose the one you like best or do all three sets)

i've already done the 3 person one so i'm gonna skip that but what a wonderful assortment of characters. they don't seem connected in any way but all of them seem 100% trustworthy. i feel like you could add the welcome bot from dark water, misi, to it. unfortunately that one's only for 3 characters. ah well

yasmin khan

1. Could you take them in a fight?

fuck no sjdkfkg i'd go down SO fast

2. Would you let them cook for you?

oh yeah sure! idk if she's any good at it but she won't be a complete disaster. better her than the doctor

3. They give you a haircut! Is it any good?

ooh doubt it. i think yaz could cut long hair in a pinch, she seems pretty good at different hairstyles, but i might allow her to do an undercut at most - the rest of my hair is too dumb and complicated sjfjgk

4. What would they get you for your birthday, if anything?

probably something impersonal like nice soap, or if she knows me a little better a pretty notebook. nothing too big

5. If they were a YouTuber, what sort of content would they create? Would you be subscribed to them?

travel vlogs probably - and no, but i'd see her instagram every now and then and hang out there because she's pretty <3

tardis & the doctor

1. You have to choose one to erase from their series! Who do you pick?

goodbye doctor. it's tardis who now

2. Who would you rather run into in a dark alley at night?

i'd rather Quite Literally run into the tardis because then i'd be inside the tardis and i count that as a win in any circumstances, however there's no way i'm missing out on my companion moment so the doctor it is <3

3. Who would you save from a burning building? Who would be more likely to save you from a burning building?

the doctor would save me via tardis & i mean. the tardis will be completely fine in a burning building so i'm saving the doctor

4. Who would win in a dance-off?

well one of them is a humanoid with limbs and the other is a wooden box skdkfkg

5. They swap bodies for 24 hours! How badly do they mess up (or improve) each other's lives?

this feels like a doctor who episode already lol

the tardis spends the entire 24 hours engaging in earthly (broadly speaking) delights such as existing in one time at a time and eating Every Food, and the doctor has a similar experience to a demon possessing someone with a chronic illness - oh there is so much wrong with this body. not that they know how to fix it they can barely drive

thanks for the ask this was fun!!

[morhath]

Good for you about saying that to your boss!! I’ve had the same conversation with mine before. It pisses me off that someone could legitimately be sick and they still get punished for it, like we are in any way in control of our immune system’s ability to fight off viruses. Nothing gets me going on my soap box faster at work than somebody bringing up sick days. We get evaluated each year and even if we’re legitimately sick, with a doc note, we get docked in our evaluation. Drives me bonkers as someone with POTS, congenital heart disease, etc etc.

yeah my workplace is generally pretty good about this stuff so it wasn't like the riskiest thing for me to say lol but I'm... pretty pissed off that I caught COVID at work at a meeting I told my bosses we should be masking for and I caught it from someone who was unmasked and now I'm so far in the negative for sick time because of that. oh and also I only showed up to the meeting because my sick time was so low from dealing with chronic illness stuff in the first place. like literally if they gave me more sick time I wouldn't've been there to catch COVID, I would've been out sick with a migraine. (I'm PT because I'm disabled so I get less sick time than everyone else--this was the error, I was accidentally set up to accrue like I'm FT when I accrue at half that rate so fixing it took half the sick/vacation time I'd accrued this year.) there was a whole COVID outbreak at our company from that meeting and I genuinely think the company should eat that sick time and not deduct it from our totals (I think there was separate COVID sick time early in the pandemic actually) because again. I literally told them. we needed to mask. this was PREVENTABLE and they simply chose not to prevent it.

that's fucked up that you get docked on your evaluation for taking sick time--in fact while I am not a lawyer I suspect it is illegal in the US because that policy has GOT to be disproportionately punishing disabled people. unless you're talking about going over your sick time which I guess they could frame as you breaking a workplace policy buttttttttt I think you could still TRY to argue that it's disproportionately affecting a protected class and thus illegal. might also be affecting women because sick kids, women end up with more childcare responsibilities because of sexism, have to take sick days to care for kids, etc etc. that being said if it's a workplace policy that's applied evenly and fairly it might be legal in the US. again: not at all a lawyer, just disabled and also a huge nerd.

like honestly I'm a fan of unlimited PTO (if handled well--some companies use it as an excuse to dissuade people from taking any PTO) but I also get why my company has a limited/set number of hours a year. I just... don't love how they've handled this situation with the COVID outbreak in general. and also I am cranky today for the other reasons I was posting about earlier.

like... if you see a need to boost some people's sick time totals... why are you thinking it should be the responsibility of other employees? it feels like there is perhaps a more obvious entity that should be responsible here like. you know. the company. also like what if an employee donates their extra sick time and then has a horrible accident or gets cancer or something in january and now oops! they have like... a day or two of sick time saved up.

all that being said, and while I will absolutely speak up and say I think the sick time pool/donation thing is bullshit, if they do implement it I'm not gonna insist on my morals so much that I turn free sick time down lol

[paramouradrift]

"Can you hear me?"

@febuwhump

Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender, Pairing: Zukka Modern AU in which Zuko is the captain of the fencing team.

You can scry for the location of this fic on AO3 here.

Sokka lay in his dorm room bed, sick as a dog. He was alone, his roommate having vacated the place to go and stay with his girlfriend for a few days while Sokka recovered (and in turn, he was sure, his roommate’s girlfriend’s roommate was probably staying elsewhere, continuing the chain of exiling and sexiling ad nauseam). He had a box of tissues and a massive two liter bottle of water next to his bed, a sick bucket on the floor, and every blanket he owned piled on top of him. His body ached, and his nose hadn’t stopped running in days. He felt like death was upon him. His monitor was on while he tried to stream something mindless he could try to enjoy, but frankly all he had the energy for was 90s infomercials and Chinese soap operas. He took a swig of water and settled in for another episode when his phone buzzed. It was Zuko.

“Hello?” he said, and was greeted by a blast of sound.

“Sokka!” Zuko yelled over the cheering crowds. He must have still been in the fencing arena. The team had gone to regionals, leaving Sokka and a few other unlucky teammates at home to recover from illness. “Hello?”

“Hello! Zuko, can you hear me?” Sokka asked, voice as thick as his sinuses were full.

“Wait, let me get somewhere quieter,” Zuko yelled over the background noise. There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and then the roar of the crowd was cut off. “Is this better? Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, captain,” Sokka said.

“Hey,” Zuko said, and Sokka could hear the smile.

“Hey, dork,” Sokka said. “How’d we do?”

“Jet came in second in the senior foil division,” Zuko said. “And you’ll never guess who swept all their matches.”

“Aang?”

“No. Suki,” Zuko said, and Sokka loved how proud he sounded. “She was incredible, Sokka. It was almost a clean sweep, too. Her epee was so clean, it was like she just danced around her opponent’s swings. She didn’t get touched once until her last match, but she was up against Haru from BSSU, and I’ve heard he’s their rising star.”

“That’s great!” Sokka said. “Wish I could’ve seen it.”

“I think coach filmed it, I’ll show you later,” Zuko said. “You know how he gets, he wants us to do some post mortem thing if we lose or have something to post to the website if we win.”

“How’d you do, though?” Sokka asked, dabbing at his nose with a tissue.

“I did alright,” Zuko said. Sokka snorted, and then coughed. He put the phone down to blow his nose.

“Come on, Zuko,” he said. “What the hell is ‘alright’ supposed to mean?”

“Well, I’m bringing home 1st place in the senior saber division,” Zuko said. Sokka sat up.

“Alright!?” he cried. “Zuko! Congratulations! That’s incredible!”

“Thanks,” Zuko said. Sokka could picture him blushing while trying not to look smug.

“Seriously, who hurt you?” Sokka asked. “You should be waving that medal in everyone’s face.”

“Well, growing up with my dad and my sister, I guess I got used to thinking of myself as…untalented?” Zuko said. Sokka’s heart squeezed painfully. “I know, I know, it’s dumb. I’m not the team captain because of my winning personality, but. I don’t know, I don’t like showing it off in case I’m not as good as I think I am.”

“Wow, my handsome and talented boyfriend is so humble,” Sokka said. “What a man. What a catch.”

“Shut up,” Zuko said, chuckling into the phone and sending shivers down Sokka’s neck. “I’d kiss you if I was there.”

“You’d get sick again,” Sokka said, sniffing loudly. “Hey. When you get back. Can we…?”

He heard the door open through the phone, and his teammates called to Zuko. Zuko replied, and then said to Sokka, “Listen, I’ve got to go. Coach is treating us to dinner, and then we’ll be on our way back. Probably won’t be until midnight, though, so don’t stay up for me.”

“Hadn’t planned on it,” Sokka said. “I feel like shit.”

“I love you,” Zuko said. “Get well, okay?”

“Okay,” Sokka said, grinning despite himself. “Bye, boyfriend.”

“Bye!”

The call ended, and Sokka burrowed down into his blankets. He turned off his monitor and forced himself to sleep, determined to get better as quickly as possible so that he and Zuko could properly celebrate his win. Scenarios played out in his dreams, warped though they were by his subconscious mind, and he had more than sweat to wash from his clothes when he was mobile enough to do laundry again.

[miracleweaponhunt]

Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 36: Our New Ruler

Luminita looked out from her window. She and anyone else with major involvement with the Lux was quickly put inside here for her own coronation. She was in the top floor with all the other rulers, instead of one floor below where the children of rulers stayed. The people her own age, like Willow and Javier. She wondered what they were even up to. Willow was probably worrying about her and panicking openly on her behalf. Javier was…probably the same, only more subtle about it. She gave herself one more look in the mirror. She looked paler than usual, she couldn't bring herself to stop with everything that was happening. Her hair was brushed and cleaned, but not styled yet. She glanced over her dress one more time. Black in the bust area but pure white everywhere else, with pure dainty gloves squeezing her hands.

She stepped out of her room into the glass area attached to each bedroom on the first floor. Glass floors and walls, with a white roof to prevent the sunlight making it too hot. The view of Sangaria was perfect. The castle stood as a tiny speck on the centre of the airship, with the grand surrounded by a wall stopping anyone from falling off it's edge. The humble streets and shops, entirely out of view. She glanced at the two ships to each side. Gurut to the left, and ShiShi to the right. Sylvestro and Fen Hou would hopefully be good at guiding her on what being a ruler actually meant. Because she was hopelessly out of her depth here. Marcel already had his detractors, and all of them would be looking for her to change, but his supporters would be thinking about how someone as young as her could live up to his legacy. She was already pacing around the room, trying not to buckle at the pressure before she even stepped on that stupid stage.

There was a knock on the door. She looked at the clock in her room, and the coronation was half an hour away. She opened it, and Zach was in front of her, holding a small box in his hands.

"I interrupting anything?" He asked, glancing around the room.

"You aren't." She assured. "What's in the box?"

"Now, don't hate me, but I got some of your staff to help me get something you might want."

Zach handed her the cardboard box. Luminita removed the single layer of tape, and inside was a crimson cape with fur along the ends. She recognised it from somewhere, but she couldn't tell where. Suddenly, all the pieces sprang together in her mind.

"My…mother." She said quietly, trying not to let the tears burst out of her.

"Figured she'd give it to you if she could." Zach nodded slowly to himself. "Look, if you have any issues, anything at all, just let me know, okay?"

There was another knock at the door, followed by Mia casually letting herself in.

"Zach." She announced flatly. "Mind explaining what you're doing in here?"

"Just dropping something in for the queen." He replied, smiling to himself as he finished the sentence. "I'll let you get to what you're here for."

Zach closed the door behind him, and Mia locked eyes with Luminita. Mia's green eyes weren't stern as she was so accustomed to seeing them. They were more relaxed, sympathetic.

"Your hair's a mess." She said. "Sit down and I'll take care of it."

Luminita sat down in front of her mirror, and Luminita began styling her hair. She was styling with near surgical precision, quickly giving her hair a wavy quality near the end.

"You're really good at this."

"Good to know I still have it." Mia nodded, quickly letting the illusion of a smile leave her lips before her mouth returned to it's neutral expression.

"You used to do this?"

"Went to school for styling. Actually managed to work with a couple celebrities before I was called to lead the Lux."

"Celebrities?"

"Did you know I was the first stylist for Miles Parker on some soap advertisement?"

"No way."

"Indeed. But, my parents both succumb to illness at the same time, and suddenly I was called to rule."

"Well, you seemed to handle it, at least."

"Oh please, they'd all rather follow that brute than me."

"Zach?"

"That one, yes. I'm assuming he said you could confide in him."

"He did, yes."

"Well, the same applies for me."

Mia let Luminita's hair down, and she felt it for a few seconds. She almost instantly turned her hair into something more full of life. She had more confidence now. She almost felt ready to take the charge towards her country.

"You're on in ten minutes." Mia said softly as she passed through the door. "Good luck."

Willow was putting a band-aid over a bloody pinky finger on her left hand, while Javier looked over at her in mild confusion.

"Did you fall on something?" He asked, looking around for anything dangerous in the area.

"Look, I was biting my nails and ripped a hangnail off. I'm fine." Willow said nervously, moving on to biting what was left of the nails on her right hand.

"Hey, you guys."

Javier and Willow looked up at who was beside them. A man taller then them with shaggy brown hair and a white polo shirt and jeans, wearing two leather gloves. Zach's son, Arden. Four years older.

"Been a while, how you guys doing?"

"We're doing alright." Javier replied, glancing at the wall in the hopes Arden would as well. He would, giving Willow the time to patch her finger up. "Just a little nervous."

"Makes sense, considering it's Luminita. Remember when I had to babysit the fo…bunch of you during meetings?"

"Yeah, I do." Javier chuckled slightly.

"You know, Willow? People think the scar on my hand is from some horrific incident with a criminal and not a nine year old's hero game involving a comical amount of knives." He said, removing the glove on his left hand, showing the bright red scar going horizontally across it.

"I said I was sorry." Willow sighed.

"After you called me a weakling several times." Arden said. "No hard feelings, obviously. Actually, Nuria wants to know if you guys were okay with spending some time in Mar-Luminita's castle for a while to help her adjust.

"Yeah, I could do that." Javier nodded.

"Well, I have plans to help your dad back in Fightston, but I'm down once that's done."

"Cool, cool." Arden nodded. "She doesn't want to seem weak right now, but she could really use the support from close friends."

"Close friends? I mean…I guess?" Javier said while looking at the floor.

"What, did you guys have a fight or something?"

"No, it's just…we never really hang out anymore. Don't even think I have her number. Not that I hate her, we just grew kind of distant."

"Distant? What, since…"

Javier put his hand over Arden's mouth.

"Look, things are already stressful enough, we do not need to be reminded of that."

Arden took a step back and looked at Javier with a blank expression, then a quick nod.

"Yeah, actually. Makes sense. Well, I'll see you at the ceremony."

Javier couldn't help but let out an agitated sigh when Arden left. He never even thought about things like news coverage until now, but that was probably going to be everywhere after the ceremony. A decade ago, him alongside the three others were the 'future four pillars' Javier, Willow, Luminita, and Levin, next in line for Lux itself. But Levin died. Suicide after a series of Legion attacks left him feel helpless under the pressure. Luckily, the news media left the three of them alone and never really went back to them. Whether out of respect for grieving pre-teens or parental pressure, he never found out. But the whole incident was bound to come up again. He knew Luminita wouldn't like it, but having to hear about it would destroy Willow. She reacted the worst out of it, and he wouldn't be suprised if he never fully recovered.

"Uh, Javier?" Willow asked, shaking him out of his worries. "Ceremonies ready."

The two of them entered the circular room, with three rows of circular wooden pews laying before a set of white marble steps leading to the platform Luminita was supposed to step out of. The first row was made up of the rulers, and the next two were the partners and children. Despite this, Javier and Willow took a free space next to Rory in the front row, who didn't say anything. Freyja looked from the other end, but Rory leaned forward to cough a little until her gaze was back towards the platform.

Mia stepped out of the two doors at the back. She didn't make a sound as she approached the small podium.

"Thank you all for coming." She announced as she approached the podium. "I know this is on very short notice due to the tragic events that Sangaria has experienced. But, she, Willow, and Javier were always considered the future three pillars, and I have nothing but good faith that she will lead Sangaria into newfound prosperity. And without further ado, the newest ruler in the Lux Congregation."

There was an intense applause as Luminita stepped out. Luminita herself was trying her best to look confident and ready as she approached the podium.

"Esteemed members of the Lux Congregation." She started. "I thank you for having me join your noble cause. My only hope is that I can be of service not only to you, but of all members of the Skyspace."

The speech was short. She clearly wasn't prepared, but nobody cared as the crowd leapt into applause. Willow was the most enthusiastic about it, screaming at the top of her lungs for her. Luminita did her best attempt to look proud on that stage until the others died down. She then bowed before them and retreated back.

"Javier, go follow her." Nuria whispered.

Javier gave a thumbs up and went into the door, with Willow following.

Inside the white room, Luminita was shaking slightly as she filled a cup with orange juice and brought it to her lips.

"Hey there, queen Luminita." Willow said quietly as she closed the door, bowing to her afterwards, which Javier copied.

"You…you guys." Luminita looked towards them, her voice starting to waver. She ran up towards them, embracing them just a few seconds before she started crying behind them. The sobbing lasted a while, but it didn't really matter to either of them. They began to embrace her back, and she eventually pried herself off her friends.

"Hey, so my parents got the idea to help you run your place for the first few days. They say it'll be a good idea to teach us all how to rule eventually. You down?" Javier asked.

Luminita nodded silently, trying to bring herself to speak.

"I'll be there too, but Zach needs me in Fightston for a couple days. But hey, save a place for me!"

The three of them walked out of the room together, talking about plans for the future. Once Willow passed her room, she waved them goodbye and ducked into it. Once inside, she checked underneath her bed for her suitcase and opened it. The spear was still inside, and nobody was called. And if anything was found out, she left a helpful note that the Legion had nothing to do with the weapon borrowing process. She took out her phone and called Zach.

"Okay, when are we leaving?"

[everythingelseisextra]

Hello Eli! ☺️

From the ask game, (The Wild Ones) what’s the inspiration behind the story? How did you started writing it? -I’m about to go for the next part- (questions of my own)

Just for fun, I'll give you the inside scoop of how Wild Ones came to be.

It was a long time coming, I'll be honest. I'd been thinking about writing a horse trainer x Tommy fic since my first foray into the fandom, a little after COVID. It was born from being a little obsessed with how Tommy treated horses, and from the fact that I've been with horses for most of my life. I didn't write it for those years I was in and out of the fandom for fear of it not being liked. It was completely self-indulgent, in my head.

Then I put out feelers recently, got some support, and started writing. THAT'S when inspiration really hit.

I didn't outline it, just had a clear beginning, middle, and end point. I took a lot of inspiration from different forms of poetry (Sylvia Plath, T.S Eliot, etc.) and, also... *spoilers ahead if you don't know the reader's full backstory*

...Based on my own experiences, I deeply wanted to create a character who defied the usual trauma-porn, victim viewpoint of a lot of SA/trafficking survivors. I get tired of seeing mental illness and trauma dramatized in media, and felt like quieting it down and trying to show the inside of it; no intense flashback sequences or explicit details, just the effects. The way I write the reader is very, very purposeful.

Lastly, I've always wanted to pair Tommy with someone who worked with horses because of the philosophy that comes from becoming a well-rounded trainer. "You never punish someone for trying and failing," is a sentiment I express in my most recent part. I think that Tommy deserves grace (no pun intended) and needs to be allowed to make mistakes. There are natural consequences to what he fails at, and he doesn't deserve to be punished in addition, the way he often is in the show.

Alright, I'll get off my soap box. I REALLY appreciate you asking this question, it got me to sit down, think, be grateful for what this fic has allowed me to do, and be grateful for the support I've gotten.

Thank you so much, and it's time for me to go to bed. <3

[k7l4d4]

Okay, this is gonna involve me unpacking a LOT of personal shit, so here goes...

I haven't seen my mom since I was five, because she was deeply mentally ill, and has no ability to take care of herself, so she gave me up to her grandparents. My grandparents tried really damn hard to raise me right, but when we moved when I was five, and my grandmother died later that year... things started going down hill.

I'm gonna state straight-up that my grandfather had depression following my grandmother's passing, and even in spite of that, he did TRY to raise me right. Too bad he was kind of an asshole. No, scratch that, he was a HUGE asshole, with a tight-fisted controlling streak wide enough you could swim the length of Lake Superior easily in it.

Ever since I was five, I haven't bee... good at handling my emotions. I fired back and forth between extremes easily, and I didn't know how to handle things going a way I didn't understand. This meant I got in trouble in school a lot when I was little. My grandpa's response to me getting in trouble? Yelling at me. FOR A FUCKING HOUR.

I was made to feel ashamed of having emotions, that nothing I did was right. Now, sometimes, I screwed up by genuine accident. Did this matter? Oh HELL NO. See, when I was young, I had a habit of pulling people into hugs around the shoulder and neck, otherwise known as putting people into Headlocks. I DID NOT KNOW WHAT A HEADLOCK WAS AT THE TIME. And yet, I got in trouble, and you want to know what my grandfather did? He said there was no way I couldn't have known what a headlock was without explaining HOW, and punished me by dragging me to the bathroom and forcing liquid soap into my mouth as a punishment. I wasn't even seven at the time, and I'll never forget the feeling of that slimy crap being scrubbed into my tongue until I burst into tears and tried to hack it up when it slipped down the back of my throat.

When I got into Middle School, and got something resembling muscles, my grandpa dragged me into his garage to "help" him work on his truck and stuff. Something something "giving me valuable life skills," which wouldn't be so bad if I weren't the embodiment of being an indoors kid who would rather curl up around a book and only interact with nature through a window. And yet, I was expected to stand still, holding bits and pieces of metal in place, wrench nuts and bolts, and more or less be his chore monkey. I never fucking retained ANY of the skills he taught me, because he was a lousy fucking teacher who expected someone to "just get it" after showing someone once. Oh, and HEAVEN FORBID you do a task he assigns you in a way that doesn't fit HOW HE PERSONALLY DOES IT to a "t." So there I was spending the next four years of my life being forced to act as an assistant to a grumpy old man's machine shop projects that he was in no shape to be doing, and frequently yelled at to the point of crying on more than one occasion because he couldn't somehow fucking grasp THAT I WAS NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO KEEP A PIECE OF METAL LIFTED FOR MORE THAN A FUCKING MINUTE AT A TIME!!!!

Oh... the yelling. I glossed over it, I guess. The yelling was kinda the staple of my grandpa being pissed off. He never hit me, but given all the times he's left my ears ringing, I'd say it's a fair trade, wouldn't you? Because here's the thing about my grandfather; the fucker wouldn't take responsibility for a fire he set if you found him holding a box of matches and a tank of gasoline.

I wasn't allowed to get angry with my grandpa. If we ever had a fight, it was my fault. If something went wrong, I was the one who had screwed up. If I tried to confront him on when he's being an insensitive piece of crap, he goes "I don't want to hear it" and walked away. To him, an argument only exists if HE is the one engaging it, if HE is the one in control; I wasn't allowed to have an opinion to express if he couldn't dictate the flow of a conversation. If I brought up one of his screw ups, he would say "it didn't happen," and treated me like I was either making something up or dreaming, to the point I honestly doubted if I remembered right, because he was so utterly certain he couldn't be the one at fault. The standout incident in my memory is the time he had a fit of road rage because he thought someone was tailgating him; his response? Hit the brakes and let them get close, and CHUCKLE about it before speeding back up, because WHO CARES THAT HE HAD TWO OTHER PEOPLE IN THE CAR AND THAT THEY COULD HAVE GOTTEN HURT, HUH!? I was scared out of my fucking MIND, all because he had to get pissy and throw a fit in the middle of the fucking road!!! But whenever I fucking bring it up, he tries to change how it happened, or pretend that "he was just stopping for the stoplight" THE FUCK HE WAS!!

I have been infatilized by this man... for YEARS. If he had me do something on my own, he would come over and double-check it, nitpick at it until he found SOMETHING to complain about, and then would undo it and redo it himself. It was humiliating. A project that he had dragged me out of the house for, and after all the effort I put in... he just did it himself anyway. I felt like I was five again, like a little kid who couldn't be trusted at the big kid's table. It was so humiliating, and the only thing that kept me from crying at times was that there was nobody around to see him treat me like this, like I was a little kid instead of nearly a grown man.

When I was in Middle School, we were told to think about what we wanted to do with our lives. At the time, I wanted to be a video game developer. My grandpa's response to hearing about that? Complain and browbeat me into changing it because "every kid want's to do that." Literally NONE of my classmates at the time wanted to be that. Then again, my grandpa has never once hid the fact about what he considers "real work," and programming sure as hell ain't it. He made me ashamed of what I wanted to do with my life, until I lost all motivation to keep going.

I can't even count the number of times me and him fought and I started crying because of how small and alone he made me, and his only response was to "quit my fucking bawling." Because real men don't cry! Real men suck it up, buttercup, and keep it all buried inside, because that's how you get thing's DONE, you see. He shamed me for having emotions, for not conforming to the impossible standards he set for me.

My grandfather was also a bit of a prude; to him, it didn't fucking matter that I was a hormonal teenager going through puberty, I had to adhere to HIS standards of what constituted proper behavior. Always. He made me hate my body, yelled at me for self-exploration, and treated me like I was a disgusting THING he had to put up with having in his house whenever my self-control slipped.

Then there's the fat shaming. Which is really fucking rich, given that the man has a gut big enough you could fit a basketball in it, but what can you do? "Do as I say, not as I do," fucking hypocrite. It... it would be ONE thing if he just yelled at me to exercise more. But no. He doesn't do that. He needles me. He hems and haws. He asks "how's that jogging going?" He makes comments about me exercising more, or commenting on how much I'm eating, even when he's packing away two or three plates.

This has been my entire life. A never-ending slog through pushing my way past my grandpa's emotional abuse, and trying to keep one foot in front of the other, desperately looking for a way out. I don't hate him entirely. But I will NEVER forgive him for how he treated me.

I love Chloe as a character, because I see myself at my lowest in her. When I see her questioning why Audrey doesn't love her, I'm reminded of the times I asked myself what I did wrong while my grandpa refused to answer instead of just repeatedly yelling at me. When she confesses how useless she feels, it's like I'm looking at myself slogging through high school, asking myself what the fuck am I doing with my life. Every last scrap of desire for validation, for approval, for wanting people close but shoving them at arm's length... it's like looking at a mirror composed of my worst moments. When I see her, I see every little moment of failing to live up to impossible expectations without even being aware of the criteria that I've had to endure, and can see that she's endured in how Audrey demeans her. To me, the writers insisting she's "irredeemable" disgusts me; it's a mockery of everything I've been through, of saying that every time I couldn't be what my grandfather wanted me to be, every time I screwed up at school or got into a fight with a teacher because I was so overwhelmed that all I could do was lash out and hoped that everything would be better... that I was just this evil little monster who wasn't grateful for being taken in by someone who didn't HAVE TO. As if being given the absolute bare minimum of human decency is some kind of justification for being insulted, belittled, and screamed at until I was left curled up, ears covered, hoping that the scary things in life would leave me alone, because "sitting there and taking it" was the only thing my Grandfather would let me do when he was angry. I'm not just angry with how the show treats Chloe, how it uplifts Andre while ignoring his failures as a parent and just ignoring every way that Audrey's impossible expectations and abusive behavior have shaped Chloe as a person... I'm hurt. I felt betrayed. Like this character who I sympathize with, EMPATHIZE with, so strongly, was told "no, you are not ever allowed to grow," and being the only one held accountable for all the shitty things surrounding her... it was like a knife to the heart. I can't speak for anyone else... but when Thomas decided that turning an abused teenage girl into a demonized monster over the abusive father of the male protagonist and the rich brat who routinely hurts people just because he can... I lost any ability to respect him.

One question regarding my upcoming review

I'm making good progress on my review of the Season 5 finale, but there's one aspect about it that I want some more information on.

Much like with my "Qilin" review, where I asked my followers for their perspectives on police brutality and racial profiling, I was wondering if there were any followers of this blog who would be willing to share their experience with child abuse or neglectful parents.

Because the season finale will have a scene that will make me look back on earlier episodes with scenes of child abuse in regards to Adrien, Kagami, Chloe, and Felix, I want to get an idea of what ways the show missed the mark when it came to depicting the subject.

This is far from mandatory, but if anyone is able to share their experiences, I would greatly appreciate it, and I will be sure to credit you in the review proper.