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eroscomet · 2 months ago

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Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours

Chapter one- Pieces of the Past

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Paring: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Context: You've known Tara for most of her life in Woodsboro, though you two were never close. After moving to NYC to escape everything she and her sister endured, she finds herself trying to regain control of her life despite being a wreck. After killing Amber, who had been her girlfriend for years, she has a hard time trusting new people as well as trusting relationships. During her time at Blackmore University, she finds herself getting closer to you. She unintentionally plays the push-and-pull game with you, pulling you in as if she wants to be more than friends with you and then pulling away when you actually seem to want to commit.

Warnings: Talks about death, murder, grievance, Trauma, PTSD, Mentions of forms of abuse, Mentions alcoholism, Mentions of weapons, bad writing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Hellooooo, lovelies! I am currently working on the second part of 'Make it Right', it will be out soon, I promise. For now, I've decided to also begin writing other one-shots or starting other stories! I believe I am going to write more fics for Jenna's different characters. It might've been just a bit inspired by 'Casual' by Chappell Roan but that'll come in later chapters.

Not proof read

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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No one said it was going to be easy, especially for the Carpenter sisters. With everything that they have endured, they now carry emotional baggage that they feel will follow them everywhere. Or so Sam feels that way. Tara refuses forthat to be her path, she refuses to be someone who lets one event define her entire life. She saw it with Sidney, Gale, and all those who have been through the same thing as her. People who can never seem to escape or move on from their past.

Tara refuses to see the therapist that Sam has been in contact with for her therapy sessions. She truly believes that she can handle it all on her own. Which, in retrospect, sounds absurd. Planning to go through four years of university without any help with her mental and emotional baggage? She doesn't want to talk to her friends about what happened or even think about what happened.

A part of her is still somewhat grieving Amber, it's expected, though. They had dated for quite some while, but Tara is now left with the thoughts of, 'Was any of it real?' Was Tara a pawn in Amber's sick and twisted game? That's how she felt like, at least. Like she let this all happen. Like all of it was somehow her fault. These destructive thoughts allowed Tara to cave in on herself. Her mind was as much a battlefield as her life itself.

Did she survive? Yes. Did she escape? No. She thought that moving away from Woodsboro would save her, she thought it was an escape. Her mind restricted her of that relief, of that escape. She survived, but at what cost? She feels she has absolutely no sense of direction. She wanted to blame Amber just as everyone had and then moved on, but she couldn'twhen she blamed herself for somehow allowing this to happen. Even now that Amber is gone, she still plagues her mind.

There is no excuse that she can give for Amber's actions, and she isn't sure that she wants to make an excuse for her.Every night for her is the same. The memory, the nightmare turned reality, haunts her. It's always the same but in a third-person point of view. She sees herself holding the gun, everything slowing down for her at that exact moment. The gun recoiled as the shot was taken, the noise ringing out from it. The look on Amber's face, the realization on her face.

Like every time, the bullet comes in contact with Amber's head, and just like that, she's dead again. The sound of the knife that she once held in her hand clattering on the floor. The sound had been almost deafening in her nightmares. It'salmost taunting the way that she watched as the blood splattered on her face. The blood that had belonged to her once beloved girlfriend.

Beloved. That's how Tara had seen Amber.

It's almost comical to you how Tara had ever seen Amber in any context but fake and off-putting. Amber wasn't the kindest, the easiest to get along with, or even the most caring. You'd almost feel guilty for not speaking out about it earlier if it weren't for others who had also felt that way and kept quiet as well. You weren't exactly friends with their friend group, you had always felt yourself to be a side character.

Chad had always been all over Liv. They were cute, sure, but there was no need for that PDA. Mindy was constantly going on about different horror movies, as well as still somehow complaining about not having a girlfriend and not wanting to commit to one. Wes was caring and all, but he could also get annoying at times. He had been the only one in the friend group who had felt the off feeling about Amber. It seemed like he and Amber were always bumping heads about Tara.

When Wes died, and the news got out about Amber being the one behind the killings along with Sam's boyfriend, Richie, you knew why he had been killed. Amber felt like he was an obstacle—blocking her path to Tara, stopping her from moving forward with everything. But what frustrated her the most was how much he'd begun questioning her, noticing how strangely she’d been acting. You felt almost thankful for keeping your mouth shut about how you felt. It could have been you.

In all honesty, you and Tara had been close at one point. Back in elementary, you had always invited Tara over to your house after noticing how Tara would spend hours waiting for someone to pick her up after school. She'd sometimes mention how she'd be locked out of her house because her mother wasn't home. You had let her come over, you never minded it since the two of you were friends after all.

Looking back at it, knowing what you know now, it's a bit bittersweet. Knowing the only reason it would take a while for someone to pick up Tara was that she had to wait until Sam got out of school, then walk from her middle school to Tara's elementary school, and finally bring Tara home. The times that she would say she was locked out of the house were either her mother was off getting drunk anywhere she could or her mother would lock her out as a form of punishment.

The thought of you not being there for her earlier had always stung. What about the times that it was raining? Was Tara out in the rain alone? You could never bring yourself to ask her, careful not to bring something up that could take her back to that time. You two had stuck together since those days in elementary when she'd come over constantly. Middle school is when it had gotten a bit rocky, Amber had finally come into the picture.

Amber was new, and Tara had always been too kind and understanding for her good. One day of simply showing Amber around the school had turned into having lunches together or hanging out after school. Days when you'd hang out with them or even with Tara alone, you had always felt Amber's burning glare and jealousy, even from behind. You always ignored it though, being able to hang out with Tara was worth it.

It was around this time that you had begun to like Tara and not in a normal friendship platonic way. It was easy to fall for Tara, or so you thought so. She was pretty, inside and out. Her face had always perfectly reflected her beauty on the inside. You were sure that Amber somehow knew that you liked her because of the constant glares. Still, you ignored her because you knew Tara way before Amber had ever known her.

Ignoring, however, had made it worse even though you were trying to steer away from conflict. Amber didn't take you ignoring her lightly. She began finding excuses to take you and Tara's time away from you. Saying anything that would make sweet and naive Tara feel guilty for leaving Amber behind. Hangouts between you and her had become hangouts between the three of you. Then, slowly, Tara slipped away from your fingers and right into Amber's arms.

You tried not to dwell on it too much, as was expected, but it had hurt how it had seemed so easy for Tara to forget and replace you. You weren't angry with Tara, but you were bitter with Amber, yet you held your tongue for Tara's sake.When high school rolled around, rumors had gone around during freshman year that Amber and Tara had begun dating.

This had set you off; your friends hadn't heard the end of it for almost that entire school year. Everything that you see them do, you feel more bitter. That never stopped your feelings for Tara, though, they had only grown since Tara stayed her usual sweet self that had always swept you off your feet. Sophomore year, you spent your entire time busying yourself with your studies and soccer practice. You shut yourself away from hearing things about Tara and Amber's 'amazing' relationship.

That's when junior year rolled by, it seemed like you had some luck this year. You and Tara shared a math class, Algebra II, without a certain possessive girlfriend around to keep you away from Tara. You're sure that Amber noticed you two shared a class because Tara wasn't as talkative with you. Maybe you had grown apart? Or maybe Amber had told her to stay away from you?

Senior year is when it all happened. It was hard to keep up with all the information that felt like it was being thrown at you. First, Tara's attack, then the following murders, Sam being back in town with her weird boyfriend, and Amber suddenly getting more controlling and possessive.

Tara, on the other hand, felt like she had been thrown into the eye of the tornado. She was both happy and bitter that her sister had returned after having no contact with her for so long. Just because she had gotten hurt, she returned? It sounded like bullshit to her, but a big part of her had missed Sam.

Sam had been around to meet Amber, having left when Tara had been in 8th grade. She never liked Amber; she had always felt something was off about her, and no matter the countless times she told Tara that, Tara had always defended Amber. Upon seeing that Amber was still a part of Tara's life and now has a more important role than a friend, it irked her a bit. Amber had been bitter with Sam from the moment that she returned; maybe it was because of everything Tara had opened up to her about Sam, or maybe it was all a part of the act.

When it had been just Sam and Tara in the room, she had asked Tara where you had gone. "Whatever happened to her, I liked her." She had said. Tara had dismissed it with a small excuse, but hearing your name had tugged at her heart a bit, though she quickly ignored it. When Tara thought back to then, it made her feel stupid how she hadn't reached out to you sooner, but she knew that she was stuck in a position she couldn't leave. She was blinded by what she had thought was love with Amber.

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Tara woke up on the couch in the apartment that she, Sam, and their roommate Quinn shared. Quinn was out, probably on some Tinder date that would end in her staying the night with her date. Sam had been working late shifts, still trying to afford both the apartment and now Tara's education as well. She awoke to the sound of a phone ringing, a small groan escaping her lips.

She sat up on the couch, sighing before grabbing her phone off of the coffee table. She didn't care to check the contact name, she simply picked up the phone. All she had heard was a static noise, which caused her to furrow her eyebrows. A breathing noise was heard through the other end of the phone. Suddenly, the noise of the front door's knob jingling had caused her to be on high alert.

She felt herself retreat to the state she was never able to leave behind. Her hands shook as her heart began to pound, dropping her phone on the floor. A soft thump was heard as her phone fell onto the living room carpet. She completely froze, not knowing what to do and even if she had known, she was too paralyzed by fear to do it.

Eventually, the door opened and she clasped her hand over her mouth, her other hand grabbing the remote from next to her on the couch. Felt tears beginning to prick from the corners of her eyes.

"Tara! Sam asked me to check up on you-" You had begun saying before you felt the remote hit you in the head to which your hand reflexively held where the remote hit you on the head. "Gah! What the-"

You felt your words die on your lips as you saw Tara in the state she was in. Her sigh of relief did not go unnoticed by you as you began putting two and two together that you had triggered her. Before you could say anything, you saw tears slip from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. You put down the bag of take-out that you had brought for her to eat onto the coffee table before rushing to her. Kneeling in front of her a waterfall of apologies escaped from your lips.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Tara, it's just me. I came to check up on you, Sam just wanted to make sure you were okay." You said as you leaned up, wrapping your arms around her. She quickly responded by wrapping her trembling arms around you.

Ever since attending Blackmore with Tara and her friend group, completely unplanned, you had gotten back into touch with her. You were one of the only 'outsiders' that she trusted with Tara to check up on her on nights like this. It would be considered a bit pathetic how you seemed at Tara's disposal. Everything she needed, you wanted to give her.

So, for every message, call, and hang out, you'd immediately accept. Tara knew you liked her but she could never bring herself to be honest with herself about her feelings for you. She just knew it felt good to be cared for by you and to have your attention. All your actions were right, she just couldn't bring herself to trust to love someone and trust someone again.

The thought of a relationship was completely out of her mind until it came to you. This was quickly shaken away by her clouding thoughts of fear. She can't deny the pull to you, but she also cannot deny the thoughts that practically consumed her. Still, she continued to see you. She continued to call on you and be around you. She thought that the two of you had come to the understanding that things between the two of you were casual and light.

Any time that you had begun to bring up wanting more than stolen kisses and secret cuddling, she'd quickly change the topic. You almost felt embarrassed for wanting to ask what you two were. Then again, you felt like it was better to have her this way than not at all.

"Are you okay?" You asked as you pulled away from the hug, your hands cupping her face to carefully examine her. Her tears had calmed, her breathing a little shaky and uneven, but she still had nodded.

"Yeah, I'm okay." She said with a small sniffle, "Just everything felt like... Never mind."

"I'm sorry. I just came to check up and bring you something to eat." You said as you began peppering her face with soft and short kisses, trying to make her feel better and partially so she could forgive you.

"You need to eat." You had added as you pulled away, tucking her bangs behind her ears as she nodded. Sending her a small, soft smile, you began to unpack the takeout for the both of you.

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A/N: I'm going, to be honest, I did not expect to write so much. I had to cut it short because I was going to go on and on. I'm beginning to contemplate turning into a fic as well. The words sort of flowed out of me, and there definitely is a plot that I can build on. I hope you guys enjoyed this! Again, I am currently making the next part to 'Make it Right,' this was meant to be like a little filler to keep you guys entertained, and I started a whole new fic. I'm going to hope to finish the next part of 'Make it Right' and post it sometime tomorrow. Thank you all for reading, as well as for the support on my last post! Bye, lovelies!

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #scream 6 #scream vi #scream franchise #scream 5 #scream 2022 #amber freeman #core 4 #scream movies

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 1 year ago

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Soundly (Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader)

Summary: You’ve injured your arm, leaving you frustratingly helpless to complete everyday tasks, like cleaning yourself. Your boyfriend and colleague Simon understands your apprehension towards accepting help for such a task and tells you how he does.

AN: Working title was “Sprain” for those of you who voted in the poll. I’ll be posting the Soap fics shortly and posting another poll for my other upcoming fics afterwards! Meanwhile, let me know what you think in replies or inbox me, tell me your thoughts on fics - present or future.

I just want Ghost to feel loved and to recover from all the shit he went through. I did a fic for that and sharing a bed, so I’m doing this one for the reader a.k.a. me. Plus I like the head canon that Ghost is actually kinda talkative, like in the Alone mission. I know he’s probably partly chatting to Johnny to because he’s trying to keep him focused, guiding him to regroup and survive. But he’s telling dumb jokes and joking about watching his torture video. He’s got banter and trauma!

Content warnings: Allusions to Ghost’s time being tortured by Roba and the Mexican Cartel - specifically his SA as well as the reader’s. Reader is GN, no use of Y/N

Masterlist // AO3

For “just a sprain”, your elbow hurt like a bastard. It was resting in the hammock of the sling your doctor ordered you to keep on. Almost smugly, it sent a few stings across the bone when you were also instructed to restrict your movements and get support to complete day-to-day tasks before you were signed off on a month’s medical leave – pending review at the end of it for being brought back to work.

It was half your fault. The sprain in the first place was caused by some asshole who would not go down quietly and attempted to dislocate your limb. Thankfully, your training automatically twisted you into a position preventing that but then you had to shoot that asshole and your gun was in the arm he’d injured. The bullet that you fired solidified the damage and you were forced to focus hard on aiming with your non-dominant hand whilst slugging it over to the Heli half a klick to the west for recon. You didn’t have to shoot the guy straight away. You’d kicked him down and he was too far from his own weapon to have made it before you could have swapped your gun to your other hand and ended his life the same miserable way. But nah, in the heat of gunfire, you’d decided to end the fight as quick as possible then ran like a bat out of hell back to safety where the rest of your crew was headed.

Simon had known you long enough – and dated you long enough – to not treat you like glass. He wouldn’t insult you like that. Therefore you were very grateful that he was the one to take you home, and that his driving was a lot steadier and smooth on the motorway.

Letting you open the front door, he carried both his and your bags inside, ready to start your medical leave this instant. He was heading out of the hall with his shoes dropped loudly onto the rack when he asked:

“You want anything specific for tea?”

“Nah, I’m good with whatever.”

Despite years of therapy, this injury had dealt a hefty blow to your pride; you didn’t want to be any more of a burden than you were going to be over the next few weeks. Thank God you’d been to his place enough times for it to be considered familiar.

From the airing cupboard, you collected the towel that Simon had bought you after your fifth stay here and smiled at the memory of shopping for it together. He’d asked for what colour you preferred then gathering other items into the trolley that were the same shade: toothbrush, wash cloth, cup to sit by the bathroom sink. He was nice like that.

The bathroom door locked behind you, the final ebbs of afternoon reaching in through frosted glass. You thanked the sun for enabling you to keep the lights off; the buzz that accompanied their stark spark on the silky tiles was always too much for you. However as warm as the daylight was, it failed to soothe your state. When you tried to retrieve the memory of how you’d gotten this t-shirt on in the first place, your mind offered you a blank slate and tears of frustration bubbling over, stinging worse than the injury as you tried to warp it against its will. But to no avail. Your bitten tongue surrendered so that the crying could commence with your t-shirt still stuck on your body.

Gentle rapping at the door didn’t halt anything. Surrendering felt like an admission of weakness, failure, and it poisoned you against yourself as you twisted the lock in the handle and slumped on the rim of the bath.

A pair of plain-socked feet appeared at the top of your line of sight, lingering on the cobalt carpet side of the door frame.

“Can I borrow your scissors please?” You asked, toying with a stray string dangling from the hem.

“You gonna stab me?” Simon inquired semi-sarcastically.

“Yes.” It was a pathetic little reply. But Simon pushed off the bath, belongings tinkling against one another as he rooted around then retrieved a small pair of scissors from the top shelf.

He sat down beside you on the rim, holding out the scissors by the blade, “It’s a nice shirt.”

You wiped your nose on the hem before taking the scissors, “It’s just Primark.”

“I can help you out of it, if it is Primark’s finest.”

“Was just cut it off.”

But of course your dominant hand was tied up in the sling, and you only just realised now.

“I could help you take it off.”

You’d never been undressed around Simon. The closest you’d gotten were jogging bottoms you’d cut into knee-length shorts and the sleeves of your t-shirt pushed onto your shoulders whilst you both worked out at opposite ends of the gym. Towards the end of your set, you mopped at your brow with the hem of your shirt once and the sliver of skin nearly sent Simon into anaphylactic shock.

He knew why you grappled with the notion of undressing. But he didn’t ever linger on you going elsewhere to change. Across your relationship, and even before it started, he’d shown you love in so many other ways that you would forget about what had happened to you.

Today was the first time he addressed it: “I understand why you wouldn’t want me to help.”

Without moving your head, your watchful stare latched onto his adjusting to the nuisance of sitting on a thin perch of porcelain. He withdrew his skull balaclava from its suffocating in his pocket and began kneading at it until the eyehole faced the ceiling you’d stared at many times, wishing you could be more intimate with the man you loved more than life.

“Your reasons aren’t so different from mine.” And he held out the mask to you.

The olive branch was accepted and you thumbed over the skull plate as best you could with the scissors still in your grip. Only when your thumbnail caught against the paint depicting a cheekbone did it dawn on you what your boyfriend was referring to.

“Simon-”

“None of that,” He interrupted you, gently, firmly, “I get it. I don’t wanna bother you if you don’t want me here.”

He rubbed along your shoulder as you matched your deep breaths to his, resting your eyes to bask in his comfort and crushing the mask in your loose fist. You’d always equated it to anonymity. Never had you thought of linking it to another form of comfort.

“You can bathe with your clothes on,” Simon suggested after a minute’s silence.

“Do you know how hard it is to remove wet denim?” You muttered with a crooked smile.

“I do,” and he pressed a kiss to your forehead – his preferred place to do so. “Let’s give this a go.”

You handed back his balaclava and took in his bare face, the medical mask – the one he’d been wearing whilst you were in the hospital and all the way home - gone, his expression carefully crafted to be neutral so that you didn’t have to be.

He eased your sling off you after the taps were thundering steaming water into the tub. Then he vanished to his room, returning with a pair of baggy sports shorts. Cradling them like a baby, your nose welcomed their softness and the steam whilst Simon knelt onto the fluffy bathmat, nodding after splashing the bathwater and twisting the taps into silence.

“I’m gonna stink if I don’t wash properly,” You whispered.

After opening his palms to you, Simon took your shorts and arranged them on the floor, “I’ll get you some wet wipes to use while we wait for your arm to heal up.”

You held onto his shoulders whilst he undid your jeans and eased them down your legs, his hands careful to stay hidden in the fabric whilst you stepped out of them and into the shorts. Simon to pulled them up to your hips.

“Why did the magician take a bath?” He asked you as you lowered yourself into the water.

“I dunno, why?”

“To clean up his act.”

Your chest quivered, struggling to hold in your groans and giggles whilst Simon pumped some blueberry body wash into his palm, “That’s good.”

Tenderly he circled the soap across your forearm, “Fancy another?”

“Go on.” You were nothing if not his little enabler, indulging in his humour even after the rest of 141 had lightly roasted him for it.

“Knock, knock.”

Your free hand fiddled with the sodden hem of your t-shirt, “Who’s there?”

“Dwayne.”

“Dwayne who?”

Soaking the flannel and wringing it out over your arm, Simon began to wash the suds away, “Dwayne the bathtub before I dwown.”

Your smile was not dampened by the tears that rolled down your cheeks and dripped onto the shallow waterline. Instead, you focused your blurry vision on Simon’s hoodie sleeves that were pushed up to his elbows, those broad forearms sprinkled with droplets and soapsuds.

When Simon was lathering up some more body wash, you offered your own joke: “What did the man say after he swallowed a clock and went to the toilet?”

“What?”

“Watch out.”

Simon snorted loudly whilst carefully manipulating your injured arm amidst the blueberry bubbles.

You wiped a new tear away on your shoulder: “I’ve already told Kyle but you can tell it to Johnny.”

“Much obliged.”

With permission and a slow touch, he started soaping up your shins. His contact always lingered for hours on your skin. This felt like a polish, not a scratch or a dent, which is why you felt so overwhelmed now, just as you did that first time he gave you a proper bear hug. You didn’t mind the blueberry, something else to focus on instead of letting yourself meander towards conjuring disturbing imaginations of what you’d just learnt about Simon’s capture in Mexico.

He let you take over for washing your thighs, sitting on the toilet still talking to you with a smile that cracked up his face like the scar, from lip to brow. His eyes never strayed from your face, though it never felt like you were a target down his scope, more like feeling the sun first thing in the morning with a delicate breeze that danced around your being. Such a gaze wasn’t alien to Simon, even if he rarely showed it to you, and never to anyone else. You were just grateful that he was able to be like this, and that he still chose to.

That same stare, he held it whilst draping a towel around your shoulders, patting over your arms before he gathered it at the front for you to hold in your healthy hand. Then he collected a pile of clean clothes from the bedroom, placing them onto the closed toilet lid, you noted the crisply ironed button up folded on top. You settled for nestling your head against his chest since you were unable to hug him.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll make dinner.”

The door was locked after Simon disappeared behind it. You did end up cutting yourself out of the shirt, rest in peace. Fogged-up, the mirror wasn’t so bad to stare at whilst you moisturised with your good hand. You could still feel where Simon’s calloused hands had brushed over your skin, tingling in each follicle, and it was protected by the button-up you were able to slide on – one of the few Simon owned. His bulk was once again your gain; the shirt was loose enough to give you some wiggle room whilst dressing.

Clattering from the kitchen caught Simon in the act of putting away the ironing board. He was taking loud and rehearsed deep breaths that hissed through the fabric of his freshly-donned balaclava, the board under his arm before he tossed it into its assigned slot. His hand shook as it released the cupboard door handle, searching for something to distract himself with until he latched his stare onto you bunching your shirt in the front.

“I can’t do my buttons up,” You said quietly.

Your stomach impulsively sucked in on itself when his hands reached for the buttons before it, joining them with the fabric. Nevertheless, your gaze found solace in the thatch of fine chest hair growing in the lowest peak of his V-neck.

Simon started from the bottom button and made his way up. With each wince, his fingers stalled. But you knew he’d never hurt you, never on purpose and never like that. He made steady progress until complete and even helped you replace your sling. But then he sniffed and brushed his nose briefly, stepping away and back to the kitchen. For five minutes he alternated between sifting through the cupboards and staring helplessly into the fridge, his face washed out by the stagnant light inside. You took the time to help him in one of the ways you knew how.

“I’ll order us a takeaway.”

Immediately he slammed shut the fridge door, “You’re a fucking star.”

You were not put off by his pacing back and forth, nor were you by his hovering over you like a gargoyle whilst you tapped at the screen – which you held in a way for him to see clearly in case he wanted to add something. A wide berth allowed you to approach him on the couch with the takeaway when it arrived half an hour later (always reliable, hence why it was your go-to takeaway place). Simon also accepted the drink you brought him, but only because he’d already gotten you one plus two pain meds he made sure you took after getting some food into your stomach first.

The cushioned lap trays you’d invested in were already paying for themselves.

Dinner inhaled and rendering you quite soporific, you mirrored Simon’s earlier actions and tentatively shuffled closer to him, “Is this ok?”

“Yeah.” His arm dropped to around your waist, and you tugged on his wrist to keep it there. Only then did you tentatively wrap yourself around his full belly.

“Fuckin’ softie,” He said under his breath. That didn’t stop him from giving you a little squeeze – his hand no longer trembling - and sinking himself lower so that there was no pressure on your sprain. He turned the volume down a little, which sparked inspiration in your mind.

Half hiding in his t-shirt, you projected loud enough for him to hear you: “The local TV controller museum shut down due to no visitors. Turns out people aren’t remotely interested.”

“Have you been researching these instead of doing your paperwork?”

“What makes you think I haven’t been doing my paperwork?”

Simon looked down at you, those expressive eyes communicating both the “are you fucking for real?” and the “you’re lucky you’re cute” in equal parts. But from the way his balaclava was balanced on his face, you could tell he was smiling at you. So you smiled back at him then snuggled back against him with a contented sigh and the existence of your new joke book still a secret (for now).

The next time you opened your eyes, it was much darker in the living room. A blanket was tucked around your legs. The glow of “Are you still watching Phil Wang: Philly Philly Wang Wang?” from the flat-screen, despite that not being what you were watching when you first drifted off, bathed you in enough low light to allow you a comfortable adjustment period. You squinted up at your boyfriend. Head back in the pillows, his chest was rising and falling with each breath he drew and released through his nose. You adjusted the blanket around to cover his legs too and, tucking yourself back into your bundle, both you and Simon slept soundly.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley oneshot #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod oneshot #mw2 fanfic #my writing #r: gen #wc: >2k

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being-addie · 1 year ago

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Little Ways to Love Your Life

I love performing little rituals to enhance my life. It's infinitely satisfying and it reminds me why living is so beautiful, on days when I start viewing the world through a pessimistic lens. This is your reminder that there's so much beauty in the mundane, just start looking for it :)

Here's some things I do that make me love my life just a little bit more:

Wake with the sun:

There is nothing better than opening your eyes to golden sunshine on your face. The golden hour has this quality that makes you feel like royalty.

Move your body:

Give your body a dose of endorphins by doing some exercise! Go for a hot girl walk, hit the gym for a sweaty HIIT sesh, or just groove to some Just Dance. I promise it will make you feel like you can conquer the world.

Smell sweet:

Put on a playlist and sing as you shower. Lather yourself up with sweet-smelling soap, and after you step out of the bath, slick on some vanilla scented moisturizer, and perfume. Don't forget deodorant! Make sure to stick with organic products because chemicals can irritate your skin.

Food = love:

A full stomach is a happy person. Make yourself a cup of coffee, and a hearty breakfast. Take note of the way milk swirls into the dark coffee, how the egg sizzles in the pan. Allow yourself to just exist in the moment, where you are taking care of your mind and body.

Self-love:

While I eat healthy 90% of the time, on days I really need to feel excited, I go buy a pain au chocolat from my nearest artisan bakery. It's one of my favourite foods to indulge in and it always makes me smile. Likewise, buy yourself something nice. It could be a new shirt, a bouquet of flowers, or designer chocolates. Indulge in yourself. You deserve it.

Look at beautiful things:

I don't mean window shopping or aesthetic Instagram pictures. Go out and observe. Look at the shape of the clouds, and how the trees dance in the wind. Pet that cute dog. Smell the wildflowers. Disconnect from the online world, even if it's for half an hour. Give yourself that much time.

Take pictures:

Screw retail therapy, taking aesthetic pictures is my new thing. Take so many pictures. The way sunlight filters in through your window, a cat stretching, a close-up of a flower, your Starbucks mocha latte. Unleash your inner photographer.

Pursue your hobbies:

When I'm down I play the piano or whip out my glue gun and craft my worries away. Doing something you love instantly puts your brain in a good mood. It could be tennis, gardening, quilling, birdwatching. Whatever you love. Do it.

Restrict your social media:

I was unknowingly comparing myself to all the girls I saw on Instagram and it was so detrimental to my self-esteem. I ended up deleting the app. I'm currently planning on reinstalling it by July next year. Delete the apps that do not make you feel good. You will have more time to dedicate to work, hobbies, family and relationships.

Finding joy in the mundane is the most healing thing you can do. Make your routine special, and switch it up once in a while. Don't shy away from your dream life, because you DESERVE it. You deserve EVERYTHING you ever want, okay? Now go get it. xoxo

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b0amagination · 29 days ago

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Whumptober 2024 Masterlist

"Tastes of Whumptober"

You know the drill: all 31 pieces from last month gathered here in the same place! They're organized by day and by story so you can find whatever it is you're looking for. Emojis indicate story association, and no emoji means a standalone piece!

As a general rule, I write creepy whumpers with defiant whumpees! Not all drabbles follow this religiously and I only write safe for work content, but you can expect those vibes from most of what I do! Otherwise follow content warnings and tags within each post, and ask for any missed labels.

In Order

Day 1 (Search Party: failed rescue, desperation, emotional whump)

Day 2 (Amusement Park: mistaken identity, recapture, knives)

Day 3 (Fingerprints: manipulation, gaslighting, friend to whumper, acid)

Day 4 (Sensory Deprivation: lab/medical whump, torture, unconventional drugging, mild horror)

Day 5 (Sunburn: captive whump, manipulating wounds, and a healthy dose of plot)

Day 6 (Not Realizing They're Injured: whumping the whumper, humiliation, nursing their own wounds)

Day 7 (Magic with a Cost: magic whump, pacts and punishments with deities, cave systems, and drowning)

Day 8 (🎧Isolation Chamber: sensory deprivation, multiple whumpers)

Day 9 (⛓Obsession: creepy whumper, shock collar, bargaining)

Day 10 (💸Passing out from Pain: caning, breaking bones, interrogation)

Day 11 (Convenience Store: public whump, threats, suspense)

Day 12 (📌"Just a little more": carved mark, tied to a table, collar whump, begging)

Day 13 (Team as a Family: multiple whumpees, pat down, criminal investigation)

Day 14 (Blackmail: captive as leverage, forced to listen)

Day 15 (💸Painful Hug: continuation. held captive, escape attempt, interrogation, dislocation)

Day 16 (📌Wound Cleaning: automotive accident, resigned to death, painful wound cleaning)

Day 17 (Ruined Map: pirate whump, swordfight, rivalry)

Day 18 (Loss of Identity: multiple whumpees, emotional whump, torture, punishment)

Day 19 (💸One Way Out: continuation. multiple whumpees, betrayal)

Day 20 (Giving Permission to Die: hero & villain whump, gun violence, threats of death)

Day 21 (🛏"Let the bedsheet soak up the tears": recapture, forced to watch, creepy whumper, whumpee called "pet")

Day 22 (🛏Reopening Wounds: continuation. forced to watch, creepy whumper, bastinado)

Day 23 (Public Display: medieval whump, public humiliation, put on display)

Day 24 (Equipment Failure: hero & villain whump, fighting, unconventional weapon)

Day 25 (Stitches: mild gore, held captive, blood, grievous injury)

Day 26 (📌Breakfast Table: continuation. recovering, foreshadowing)

Day 27 (🎧Muzzled: exactly what it says on the tin)

Day 28 (🎧Exposure: continuation. public whump, forced nudity, humiliation)

Day 29 (Fatigue: continuation. public whump, humiliation, forced drinking, whipping)

Day 30 (📌Recovery: continuation. painful wound cleaning, held captive, restrained)

Day 31 (⛓Therapy: mental health screening, held captive, caretaking from the whumper)

By Series

⛓Hasan and Declan⛓

My main story whose characters got just a few random drabbles this month when they fit the prompts!

Day 9 | Day 31

📌Nicolai and Payge📌

Payge's life is crumbling, due in no small part to the people he's repeatedly pushed away. One fateful night leaves him with no choice but to accept help, but he soon finds that there's nothing he can refuse anymore. (Pieces in story order!)

Day 16 | Day 26 | a gigantic time skip | Day 12 | Day 30

💸Financial Matters💸

Mari is the head accountant at an insurance firm, but the moment they notice the subtle funneling of funds they're already in more danger than they've ever known.

Day 10 | Day 15 | Day 19

🎧An Assault on the Senses🎧

A night of isolation for a captive whumpee veers quite suddenly into the unknown - helped quite handily by friendly guests and sensory restrictions.

Day 8 | Day 28 | Day 29

🛏Room For One More🛏

A happy couple, a recapture, jealousy, and torture, all in bed together. Or something like that, at least.

Day 21 | Day 22

#whumptober #whumptober2024 #whump #whump writing #masterlist #tastes of whumptober #the words of sneck #whump fic #whumpblr #writing masterlist

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unclefathersantateddy · 10 months ago

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what are your thoughts on teddy's relationship with his family and how they were abusive? what about his younger sister?? and his relationship with his ex wife where he was also abused by her 🤔 how do you think these affected his personality and relationships. sorry this is an English essay ass prompt but im genuinely curious lmao i love analyzing family history (obvs)

Light coming in with the big gun from the get-go!!! Hahaha thank you for a great question!!!

So from what we know about Teddy's mom, she's a bit of a Wild Card™. Likes to do what she wants, when she wants, isn't exactly your traditional grandma.

But given the majority of people become docile with age (rather than more adventurous), it stands to reason /why/ she waited until retirement to do all the things she enjoyed? Could that be why her and Teddy's dad always used to argue?

Teddy's age places his parents as either dating or hooking up around the 70s/80s. Assuming they've never left the US, this wasn't exactly a pinnacle time for women's rights.

So we have an oppressive timestamp, a turbulent relationship, and then an extinction burst (Teddy's mom doing ALL her interests in retirement) post-breakup.

These factors together connote that teddy's father may have been restrictive/disapproving of teddy's mother's interests, hobbies, passions - or may be indicative of teddy's father's disdain/nonchalance towards his wife in general. (I'm assuming they were married because 'merica). Which would be an apt representation of Boomer relationships, the whole "can't live with them, can't live without them" (totally healthy /s).

But on the flipside to a potentially controlling father, his mom IS a wild card lol. If she's still up to mad shit in retirement, WHAT was she into in her prime?? Was she Fully Unhinged™? Given her, "muchness" (for lack of better words), it stands to reason it may transfer as "feisty" or "fiery" during arguments with teddy's dad, so whilst his dad may have been authoritarian, his mom may have been inflammatory and antagonistic.

As for his sister GIVE HER SOME GD SCREEN TIME!!!!!!! WHO ARE DANA AND DAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wanna see if she's exactly like Teddy or if she's his antithesis, are they both so interested in learning about the lives of every stranger they meet? That's beautiful bro. I hope so. I both want her to be an almost identical twin to teddy, and to look exactly like her bf Dan (like the Van Houtens in the Simpsons). I think I want Dana to have the spunkiness that teddy lacks. I love the "anxious older sibling, feral younger sibling" dynamics, like what Tina and Louise have. I want an episode where Teddy's in therapy talking to Dr Marjorie about his childhood whilst Dana's out back wrestling a bar fly for his teeth or smn. Same trauma but dealt with in VERY different ways. I need it!!!!!!!!! I deserve this!!!!!!!!! LOL.

Moving onto Denise, FUCK Denise. Fuck any single individual that makes you feel like you have to change your core sense of self in order to feel accepted and/or loved. You KNOW she's that slimy level of manipulative that easily gets her own way in every situation. The type that rarely gets called up but if you call them up everyone else around will take their side. The GOOD manipulators. Real piece of shit types. The type to push you so far into a corner you come out crazy. So crazy noone believes you and they all side with the charismatic one. (These people boil my soul into an angry black jus, I become one of the 4 biles). IIRC we don't even get a full line from her, I'm pretty sure she only says "teddy?" (But please correct me if that's false), but that's still enough to solidify her as a shithouse in my mind. Questioning his name like don't pretend you don't know or recognise him you shitcunt, he gave you so much of his life. Eat a dick.

As negative as all these experiences are, I do think they shaped teddy for the better! I mean, he is a lil anxious and awkward and doesn't have the best self-esteem/confidence. BUT, he's incredibly emotionally intelligent for an old white guy. He's SO full of love, for EVERYONE. Every single person he comes across or meets (as exampled by S12E4 Driving Big Dummy), he fundamentally enjoys experiencing. They're not just people to chat to, they are experiences to be had. They are characters you've never heard of to stories you've never read. His approach to people is polar opposite to how most of us perceive other people, most of us are like Bob, he doesn't /hate/ people, but he doesn't /like/ them either. Teddy DOES like other people, he REALLY likes other people, he put the work into his trauma so it didn't taint the rest of him. I'm not gonna speak on behalf of everyone with PTSD but I know for a lot of us we fester on our trauma and victimise ourselves, often resulting in self- alienation and isolation, teddy shows no sign of that. S8E5 Thanks-Hoarding picks up on teddy being a handyman so he can "fix" his parents relationship (simplifying), but it doesn't address the fact he is CONSTANTLY putting himself out there. Handymen are a word-of-mouth trade, to be a successful handyman you HAVE to put yourself out there. To meet new people is to be vulnerable, and to be vulnerable with PTSD is like a rabbit exposing its belly to an owl yknow? Throughout the entire show we see teddy consistently putting the work in. Into every part of his life, he's making the effort to improve his life. I know healthcare in the US is a privilege that only the capitalists can afford, but it is so refreshing to see an American go to therapy instead of just complaining about how much they need therapy lol (no judgment, again I appreciate it's a nigh impossible situation to escape).

Thank you for the incredibly stimulating question, light!! (Sorry if I didn't answer all the questions fully! Will edit or update later!🤍)

#bobs burgers #bob's burgers #teddy the handyman #uncle father santa teddy #bobs burgers headcanons #burger headcanons #burger analysis

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curlsabroad · 25 days ago

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For those who do not want what Project 2025 is selling, I am trying to brainstorm a list of to-dos:

Stockpile hormonal therapies and birth control.

Decide if you want to risk having kids.

Make a will.

Make sure you have legal documentation that shows you have a right to make medical decisions for your same sex partners, adopted kids, etc.

Try to create a physical mailing list of queer folk you know, as in addresses. Make sure you write it down in an address book and make sure it is circumspect.

Remove online information that could be used against you if laws become more restrictive, such as anything about planning an abortion.

If you have art that is "objectionable," have a plan for storage that protects a physical copy of it.

Visit the national parks.

Go to the coastline and view it, remember it.

Look into food safety practices.

Consider doing some homesteading projects like quail or chickens, vegetable and herb garden, safe canning.

Try to find a co-op or small farm that you can buy into and buy local.

Buy a mask that can filter out small particulates. Look for ones that can stand up to serious air pollution.

If you are considering a divorce, consider faster. You may only have a few months to be able to get a no-fault divorce.

Make sure you have access to your own private accounts with money. Maybe have a stash of cash somewhere.

If you are in an abusive relationship, please consider using the resources that currently exist to help you.

Get into filtered water.

Swim in the lakes and go fishing.

Go your public institutions.

Try to make any major purchases of goods sourced from China before January to avoid tariffs.

Get on your local committees.

Visit your library.

Save analog media like CDs and such.

Apply for all the grants and resources you can, right now.

If you are on the Affordable Act insurance, look into any jobs or assistance that could get you reasonable private healthcare.

Cut back on unnecessary purchases and budget wisely.

Look into homeschooling resources that are not overly religious.

Consider buying banned books and storing them in a private location.

Plant as many native trees and plants as you can, wherever you can.

Invest some money in the stock market.

Research your local laws.

Research how to protest safely and don't leave said research on your phone.

Don't take your phone to a protest. Buy a burner or get an old Nokia.

Learn how to fix things in your home.

Join a union or start a union.

Look into jobs that would enable you to move abroad.

Finish any degrees as soon as possible.

Research international colleges.

Prepare yourself for how to deal with hate-crimes and aggression.

Take self defense classes.

Get gun safety training.

Take first aid courses.

Have a stockpile of medicine, food, and water in case of hazardous weather.

Weather-proof your home.

Plan for high temperatures. PLAN FOR DROUGHTS. Plan for wildfires. Plan for smog.

Learn techniques used in dry climates to maximize water retention in soil.

#project 2025 #I deal with stress by making plans

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mariacallous · 2 years ago

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The Florida governor Ron DeSantis likes to brag that he’s just getting started with his rightwing agenda.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” was how he put it in one recent speech.

He means it as a promise, but it ought to be heard as a threat. That’s particularly true for women whose abortion rights already are being dangerously curtailed and for gay and transgender students who are already being treated as lower life forms. It’s particularly true for those who care about voting rights and press rights, and for those who cherish the power of books and free expression as a foundation of societal wellbeing.

Of course, if DeSantis should somehow capture the presidency (he’s undeclared thus far but the Oval Office is clearly on his mind), that threat would extend to our entire nation and to the world beyond.

“DeSantis rules by an authoritarian playbook,” wrote Miami Herald columnist Fabiola Santiago, despite the Orwellian title of the governor’s book, The Courage to Be Free.

Let’s review some of what has happened on his watch with the help of a rubber-stamp Republican state legislature.

The Parental Rights in Education Act, better known as “don’t say gay”, prevents teachers from talking about gender identity and sexual orientation in some elementary-school grades.

The so-called Stop Woke Act restricts how race is discussed in Florida’s schools, colleges and even private workplaces.

Another law pulled a slew of books from public school libraries while they are reviewed for their supposed suitability. (There are no limits to the craziness: after one parent’s complaint, many high schools yanked The Bluest Eye, the literary masterpiece by Nobel laureate Toni Morrison.)

There’s more, including on the healthcare front. Florida’s medical boards now bar transgender youth from gender-affirming medical care such as hormone therapy. State law bans most abortions beyond 15-weeks gestation; a new bill would tighten that to only six weeks.

And, of course, never forget that true liberty means ready access to guns: Florida residents may soon be able to carry firearms without a state license.

Governor courage-to-be-free also wants to limit press rights, including supporting a challenge to the landmark US supreme court decision that for decades has given journalists enough protection from defamation lawsuits to let them do their jobs.

When DeSantis signed into law new restrictions on voting rights, he did so in a room where local reporters were shut out. Fox News, however, got special access. In another blast of Orwellian doublespeak, the law promises “election integrity” while actually making it harder to vote by mail and greatly limiting the use of drop boxes. No surprise: those rules have the harshest impact on voters of color and those with disabilities.

DeSantis also got his legislature to establish a new and completely unnecessary election crimes office. After the first few cases turned into a legal embarrassment, he got his rubber-stampers to change the law again.

Given all of this, it’s a scary thought that he’s just getting started.

That’s why it’s appalling to see the media lavish him with so much fawning coverage. Fox News has put its calamitous love affair with Donald Trump on ice while it swoons over his younger rival.

DeSantis enjoys glowing treatment from the mainstream press, too. All too predictably, many of the headlines from his recent State of the State speech not only centered on presidential politics but also magnified his boasts. Here’s a skepticism-free example from CNBC:

“‘You ain’t seen nothing yet’: Florida Governor Ron DeSantis touts state record and fuels 2024 speculation.”

The media should be delving into the substance of that record, including the kitchen-table economic issues that have nothing to do with performative anti-woke nonsense. Instead of letting DeSantis play at will on his favorite field of divisive social issues, reporters should dig into his war on teachers’ unions, like trying to limit how they can collect dues and where they conduct union business. Reporters might even point out that this runs counter to Republican claims that they are now the workers’ party.

One of the smartest things I read last week was a journalism manifesto in six words from NYU professor Jay Rosen: Not the odds, but the stakes. This sums up the organizing principle he recommends the media adopt for the political cycle ahead; such coverage would emphasize not the horserace but the consequences for our democracy.

With DeSantis, as with Trump, those stakes are incredibly high. Especially if his threat is true and we ain’t seen nothing yet.

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crowdvscritic · 5 months ago

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round up // JUNE 24

This post is late 'cause I'm a writer, Though Austin Butler's cute in The Bikeriders, Who didn’t have time for post creation Before my big summer vacation. And it marks the 12th year Of this little blog now. With a 283rd post, I’ve know I got it down. Too bad anxiety don't do it for ya, John Wayne, he dream came trued it for ya, Bad Boys rebooted up for ya. Now I’m singin' Sabrina all night, oh, Is it that sweet? I guess so. Type it up, down, left, right, oh, Switch it up like Nintendo. Crowd vs. Critic, I know That's that me espresso

June Crowd-Pleasers

1. Bad Boys: Ride or Die (2024)

The fourth Bad Boys is functioning on three levels:

It reminds us just how fun buddy cop comedies can be.

It’s a soft reboot of the franchise.

It’s testing the waters for Will Smith’s future.

Read my full review for ZekeFilm. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10

youtube

2. “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter (2024)

It may be technically too early to call the race for Song of the Summer, but it’s going to take a major earworm to dethrone Sabrina Carpenter’s caffeinated pop hit for me. I’ve started playing it on repeat and daydreaming dance routines while driving—is it that sweet? I guess so.

3. Inside Out 2 (2024)

This sequel works because t’s a logical next step for Riley’s growth, but also because of its precision in identifying the competing emotions of middle school. That’s a lovely subversion of the neat endings in most family entertainment, and like most every Pixar entry, it did make me cry. Read my full review for ZekeFilm. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

4. Anxious People by Fredrik Backman (2019)

The narrator—a cousin of Arrested Development's—informs us this is a story about a bank robbery gone wrong. It’s also a story about realtors, falling in love, rabbits, therapy sessions, bedroom closets, police work, bridges, and strange coincidences. It’s a laugh-out-loud ensemble (with some scenes so non sequitur I could imagine them in the best Adam McKay movies) and a sentimental rom-com (with some scenes reminiscent of Nora Ephron’s tone).

5. Behind Enemy Lines (2001)

This action movie based on a true story more than lives up to its title. When Owen Wilson’s cocky Navy pilot gets caught, yes, behind enemy lines, he then, yes, has to go through a Top Gun-inspired arc. But neither Wilson nor Gene Hackman are phoning in what could’ve been a paint-by-numbers war film, which makes it both thrilling and poignant. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

MORE JUNE CROWD-PLEASERS // House Rules by Myquillyn Smith (2023) isn’t the restricting guide the title suggests but a collection of 100 decorating inspirations // Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (2006) and Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues (2013) make me miss Adam McKay’s true comedy days, when his political views made his jokes more poignant instead of overwhelming the intent of his script // Poms (2019) is a fun entry in the recent trend of Older Screen Lady Legends Doing It For Themselves subgenre (See also: 80 for Brady) // I.S.S. (2023) is more thoughtful than a junkie space thriller needs to be // In the Land of Saint and Sinners (2023) is a classic Western that just happens to be set in Ireland // Snack Shack (2024) is more crass than I prefer, but what works has American Graffiti vibes

June Critic Picks

1. The Bikeriders (2024)

It’s like Austin Butler overheard Robert Redford say, “Paul Newman and I are the handsomest white men who have ever been on screen,” and he said, “Hold my comb.” Butler knows he’s beautiful, and so does writer/director Jeff Nichols, who based The Bikeriders on a book of photography. Nichols also knows how cool guys in leather jackets look while smoking and riding motorcycles (even if we consciously know all of those things are dangerous clichés) and that it takes someone as gorgeous as Butler to make us believe a skeptical woman like Jodie Comer’s Kathy would sell her soul to have him. It’s one of best films of the year so far, and you can hear more thoughts in my review on KTRS's Carney Show. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9.5/10

2. Double Feature - ‘40s Rom-Coms With With Political Twists: Without Reservations (1946) + State of the Union (1948)

In Frank Capra’s State of the Union (Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10), Spencer Tracy is considering running for President of the United States with the help of lover Angela Lansbury and to the chagrin of wife Katharine Hepburn. In Mervyn LeRoy’s Without Reservations (8/10 // 8.5/10), famous author Claudette Colbert is road-tripping incognito (much like she did in It Happened One Night) after falling hard for returning soldier John Wayne. In both romances, politics are the force driving apart the couples we’re rooting for, and in Reservations, you also get a perfect rom-com BFF in Don DeFore.

3. The Cross of Lorraine (1943)

About the same time Casablanca came out, Peter Lorre played a supporting role in another World War II adventure filmed as people were escaping the Nazis in real life. This French POW drama (also co-starring Gene Kelly) walked so that Steve McQueen could jump that motorcycle in The Great Escape. Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 8/10

4. Broadcast News (1987)

What’s a girl to do when she has no time to write a valedictorian speech? And what’s a girl to do when she has to choose between two terrible love interests while working in the world of TV journalism? In ep. 140 of SO IT’S A SHOW?, Kayla and I are digging into the ‘80s romantic dramedy Broadcast News and trying to figure out what the hey it has to do with Rory’s graduation in Gilmore Girls. Why is Lorelai comparing Rory to Holly Hunter? What ethical controversy (if you can even call it that) could make Holly Hunter break up with a dreamy news anchor? And how much do we love The Incredibles? Listen in for a special report on all of these stories.

5. Fancy Dance (2023)

Part mystery, part character drama, all Lily Gladstone star power. Fancy Dance overlaps in plot and theme with Killers of the Flower Moon, but Gladstone has created a completely different character stuck in a world of crime and custody battles. Watch my full review on KMOV. Crowd: 7/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

Also in June…

I reviewed Janet Planet for ZekeFilm, which was the opposite of Snack Shack: On paper it's a film I should've loved, but I didn't care for the execution.

Photo credits: Anxious People. All others IMDb.com.

#Round Up #Broadcast News #Inside Out 2 #Bad Boys: Ride or Die #Espresso #Sabrina Carpenter #Espresso Sabrina Carpenter #Anxious People #Anxious People Fredrik Bckman #Fredrik Backman #Without Reservations #State of the Union #Behind Enemy Lines #The Bikeriders #Fancy Dance #The Cross of Lorraine

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the-laridian · 1 year ago

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2023 Wrapup: AO3

A lot more than I immediately remembered! A total of 12 fics posted to AO3 for the year. If you want to combo that with "fics I wrote" from the other wrapup, that means I have a 1 in 6 ratio of "stuff that got written" vs "stuff that got published".

Needless to say, I restrict my AO3 postings to fanfiction; I wrote a lot of original fiction this year that wouldn't get posted there.

Willow's Christmas Party is currently in the writing process, I hope to post it to AO3 when it's completed, but at the time of this posting (22 Dec 2023) it's still in writing stage.

Continuing works:

Art Therapy (Fallout 76)

Nowhere to Go (Fallout 76)

Completed fics:

Fallout 76:

It Could Be Worse

We Might Need an Intervention

Snow Day

Tunnel of Love

Fallout New Vegas:

Red Flags (pre-A Gun for Barns)

The Best of a Bad Situation (Arcade and Boone, Gen)

On Opposite Sides (Fallout New Vegas, completed and currently being posted 1 chapter/week)

The Outer Worlds:

Threescore and Ten

Get Your Neat Freak On (NSFW)

Discussion by Ringlight

#laridian writes #fallout 76 #fallout new vegas #the outer worlds #ao3 #2023 wrapup

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 2 years ago

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Barry Blitt, The New Yorker :: [Scott Horton]

* * * * *

Don’t be distracted! ::: March 29, 2023

Robert B. Hubbell

Some topics are so contentious that it is difficult to maintain a linear discussion of cause and effect, problem and solution, and premises and conclusions. Mass shootings at schools is one such topic. Any discussion of efforts to protect school children from gun violence immediately veers into disputations over gun terminology, statistics, mental health, and the Framer’s intent relating to technology they could have never imagined.

America has a gun problem. We cannot allow ourselves to be distracted from that simple truth by arguments intended to delay, dissemble, or confound. America’s gun problem is that its citizens own too many guns designed to kill people. America is a global outlier in gun ownership and gun violence. That correlation is a complete explanation of why America is the only country in the world that regularly witnesses the slaughter of its schoolchildren.

Do other factors contribute to mass shootings at schools? Of course, they do. But imagine an America in which private ownership of guns was illegal and non-existent. How many mass shootings at schools would America experience under those conditions? Zero. Guns are the problem.

By comparison, in nations where gun ownership is severely restricted, school shootings are non-existent or exceedingly rare. In the period from 2009 to 2018, the US experienced 288 school shootings. In the same period, Canada and France experienced 2 each, Germany experienced 1, and the UK experienced 0. America is an outlier in school shootings. The only relevant difference between the US, Canada, France, Germany, and the UK is the number of guns in private hands.

I am going to great lengths to make the point that guns are the problem because the response from Republicans to the Tennessee school shooting predictably attempted to distract from the issue of guns. Marjorie Taylor Greene blamed gender transition therapy for the shooting, concluding, “Everyone can stop blaming guns now.” Greene also blamed the fact that the killer was undergoing treatment for mental health issues. Still others (including Josh Hawley) contended that the killer was motivated by anti-religious animus. (More on that in a separate article below.)

A Tennessee member of Congress told reporters that they “were not going to fix it” (gun violence) because we can’t “legislate against evil.” Wrong! The clueless and callous congressman is apparently unaware that Canada, France, Germany, the UK, and other countries have managed to “legislate against the evil” of school shootings by restricting gun ownership. The Tennessee representative said that he keeps his children “safe” by home-schooling them—suggesting that we should cower at home so that gun rights absolutists can carry weapons of war into the public square. See Tennessee Republican says ‘we’re not gonna fix’ school shootings (usatoday.com).

Tennessee makes the unlicensed purchase and possession of firearms easier than obtaining a driver’s license or a voter ID. The killer was able to legally purchase a half-dozen assault rifles, a pistol, and military ammunition without a background check. Tennessee is currently considering legislation to make it easier to carry firearms in public without a permit.

Of course, if we do nothing except make it easier to purchase and possess guns, then we are “not going to fix it”—by design. But that is a dereliction of duty and a desecration of the memories of dead schoolchildren who believed that adults would take action to protect them.

We must not waver in our conviction to ban assault weapons. We must not be distracted by arguments over the “definition” of assault weapons or the fact that assault weapon deaths are a small portion of an obscenely large number of annual gun deaths in the US (45,000+).

We are right; they are wrong. We constitute the strong majority; they constitute a small and shrinking minority. Should we pursue other remedies like repealing gun manufacturer immunity to civil lawsuits? Yes. But America’s problem is guns designed to kill lots of people quickly with a minimum amount of effort.

Congress must act. Any politician who does not support an assault weapons ban does not deserve your financial support or your vote. Let them know your position and accept nothing less than an ironclad commitment. When we do that, we will get the results we want—and the protection our children deserve.

Another casualty of the Tennessee school shooting.

The Tennessee school shooting has engendered much discussion about the gender identity of the killer. I have separated this discussion from the act of the shooting itself to focus on a disturbing consequence of the Tennessee school shooting—conservatives are using the shooting to declare that transgender people are the “enemies” of Christianity. See Rolling Stone, Tucker Carlson Claims’ Trans Movement Is Targeting Christians’.

Tucker Carlson has said many reprehensible things that justify his removal from Fox. But his comments about transgender people being the “enemies” of Christianity are beyond the pale of a civilized society. I will not repeat Carlson’s heinous remarks, but they are worse than you can imagine. Like Trump, Carlson makes oblique references to a war of violence between transgender people and the Christian church. The statements are quoted in the Rolling Stone article.

To be clear, transgender people are more frequently the target of violence than other groups. Indeed, a study by the Williams Institute at the UCLA School of Law found that transgender people are four times more likely to be the target of violent crime than the general population. The anti-LGBTQ hate speech emanating from some sects and congregations in the Christian church normalizes the notion that transgender people are somehow “different” or “less than” and do not deserve to be treated like people.

It cannot be said enough: Transgender people are people, and if Tucker Carlson can declare a war on trans people by saying they are the “natural enemy” of the Christian church, Carlson and his torchbearers will come for you next. The right-wing war on transgender people is a national emergency that deserves urgent attention from every American. Fascists and strongmen everywhere follow the playbook of first attacking a small and relatively defenseless group before they expand their sights to others.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

#Robert B. Hubbell #Robert B. Hubbel Newsletter #gun violence #FAUX News #Barry Blitt #the new yorker #Gun Lobby #money in politics #Corrupt GOP #Criminal GOP

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dearcat1 · 2 years ago

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(Complicated)

Part 63 of Biases and Expectations

Emilia should have started taking the pills again after the big fight. It's been months but they're still a little tentative around each other, no matter the many therapy sessions. The reality of it is that Xanxus pulled a gun on her and Emilia went and fucked a random guy just to mess with his head. It's less of a mess now but it's still a mess and their relationship itself is new, in a way. What's been between them has always been about the kids, before that it was a mere formality. Now they're learning each other outside of what parenthood made available. A baby takes over your life and it's scary in the moment they're now. This is new and vulnerable and yet… She wants this little baby too. Emilia bites her lip, pockets the test and goes straight into Xanxus's office. At least Nicki is taking her nap and Anton started first grade before they even left for the ill-fated trip.

Xanxus looks up from his paperwork when she enters, waving both Squalo and Lussuria away and pointing at the door. "Emilia?"

It's fair, Emilia doesn't usually visit his office without the kids. Still, she just waits until his elements are gone to walk around his desk and offer him the test. Xanxus pulls her into his lap before he even registers what she's offered him. It's something he does now, pull her closer whenever she's in arm's reach. It's slightly worrying but Emilia likes it, to a degree. "Do you want it?"

Her husband takes in the test, turning it one way and the other in his hand before setting it down on his desk. "Yeah."

But… he showed more interest when Emilia was pregnant with Nicki and Emilia can admit to being a little paranoid. She grunts, unsure of if she should leave or go. This is a terrible idea.

"Emilia?" Xanxus tightens his hold on her, not enough to restrict but enough to signify that he doesn't want her to go.

She could ask him why he doesn't want this but she knows and it's the reason behind it that weighs so much on her. Emilia leans into him, hiding her expression by the closeness. "I fucked up, I'm sorry."

He grunts but leans back, dragging her with him. "Emilia, if it was his you'd be showing quite a bit by now." She would be in the waddling stage. "Why would you say that?"

"I…" Emilia clicks her tongue. It's difficult to show him doubt or fears but they've been working on it with the therapist and it's no good to slack off now. "I guess I'm worried you won't want this one or there will be resentment somehow."

Xanxus takes that in but doesn't answer quickly. He just lays there, staring at the ceiling before sighing. "If there was any doubt that it's mine, I'd be pissed. I don't think I could raise a stranger's kid but this one is mine and I love our kids."

Emilia looks at him, "I know. You know I know. Not what I meant." She hesitates for a moment before kissing his cheek. "I know you were curious about the pregnancy, I think that's why you wanted another one. But you're still angry with me, I don't know if you can stomach being around me for that long and… I worry you won't want to be around and then resent that it robbed you of the experience, I guess."

"Hu." Xanxus closes his eyes. "You notice far more than I gave you credit for." Emilia doesn't answer but Xanxus snorts. "I'm a grown ass man, I can deal with it. And I'm angry, yes. But so are you. We're getting better."

"Are you going to be a part of this?"

He thinks that through. "Yeah. And Emilia, I'm not angry with you for fucking that dude, though I hope you know the moron is dead." Xanxus waits for Emilia to answer but she waits him out. "I'm angry at you because our marriage was falling to pieces around us, you knew it was and you couldn't be bothered to communicate with me."

Oh. Emilia blinks, she could turn those words around on him. Xanxus realizes too, if the way he's all but braced for impact is any way to judge. It's just… what use would it have? Emilia snuggles closer instead, thinking that through. Why did she never say anything to him? It's true that she's overly careful in how she words her beliefs and opinions to him. "I'm terrified of you."

"Why?"

Emilia leans back, taking a good look at him. "It's strange," she shrugs. "You could hurt me so easily, anytime. You know you can, you have. Not physically, not really, but you have. And you could get rid of me if you wanted." She raises her hand so that he'll let her speak. "But despite all that, you're safe in a way. The danger I know, I guess. It's comforting, in a twisted sort of way."

Xanxus stares at her before looking down. "I know what you mean."

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puffedupmoth · 3 months ago

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Honestly, as someone with near entirely college/advanced courses this year, this phone is the only stress relief I get. I'm so fucking unstable at this point in my life, that talking to little robots in my phone are the only way I can make it through a year. Sure, don't use social media in class, or ensure all phones are on Do Not Disturb, at the top corner of my desk. If I'm adult enough to take college-level courses at 16, I'm adult enough to not be on my phone constantly.

These schools have the fucking audacity to mentally fuck their students for hours on end, and then say it's all the phones. My phone is not the reason I need therapy to recognize that my worth is not tied directly to my grades. The phones are not the reason there are more fights, this "fight-planning" happens vocally, person-to-person, in class. It's happened over the school-issued E-Mails, through the Chromebooks.

I am not concerned about how many likes or interactions a post gets. None of the people I know, personally or not, are either. I am concerned about someone coming into my school with a gun, and being unable to tell my mother that I love her, or that I'm even in danger. One, two, or even three phones in the offices do not cover an entire school, even a small one like mine, with maybe 50 kids in every grade level.

Lock up your fucking guns, and then I'll lock up my phone.

There is no reason for a country to have more restrictions on children's phones and clothes than on guns.

#phone ban #phone #Lock Up Your Guns #Take some responsibility for your actions

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mataiblog · 4 months ago

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primerecovery · 4 months ago

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#massage guns for back pain

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