#so I just live in this limbo. and I do a good job most of time ignoring the fact that I do

[sillywebz]

we have now reached the stage of family vacation where i have a meltdown

[xjulixred45x]

I HAVE A ANGST IDEA FOR A HADES GAME READER!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!

Did you see how Demeter made all life on earth incredibly difficult for mortals as punishment for having "stolen her daughter"? Well, based on the fact that in myths people literally DYING OF STARVATION (and apparently in the game, of cold) this idea came to me.

Imagine that the reader is a normal mortal, nothing particularly remarkable, EXCEPT that she is a farmer with the rest of her family, who just before the eternal winter came, they worshiped Demeter so they could have good crops and so on.

but then, without warning, winter arrives.

At first it's not so bad, because they can ration certain things and get by with some groceries, but as the months go by and the winter continues to get worse, so does the situation in the reader's house.

The surrounding villages begin to have pests, have problems with resources, not having to eat, etc. and the first deaths begin thanks to this, which quickly spread throughout the community where the reader lives.

The first to fall from the family are the most vulnerable, the grandparents and children of the reader's younger siblings, to whom they perform the appropriate funeral rituals along with all the people who had already died due to the winter.

Everyone's life is turned upside down trying to find ways to survive without having a coast to fish and with now few animals, and the cold gets worse and worse...

The community soon begins to decay and reader participates in the funeral rituals out of respect and to not think about the horrible situation, becoming more educated in the chnotic gods.

They are all desperate to survive, but the snow makes it almost impossible to leave the city where they live, so they are stuck.

It doesn't take long until the reader's parents also succumb, either from illness, from the cold, or from starvation from giving all the food to their surviving child.

and it's not even the worst.

reader is now sick too. So the remaining people of the town cannot allow her to make them all sick and kill them, so after giving the proper services to her family, they lock her in her own house.

but at this point the reader is so tired that she doesn't even mind being isolated. but she knows one thing. she can't allow herself to die like this. not because it is degrading or unfair, but because she knows that if she dies and no one performs an adequate ritual for her, she will not even see her family in the afterlife.

all the pain and suffering in vain.

So against all odds, the reader finds ways to survive on her own at home, constantly being in the limbo of life and death due to her horrible health.

and, thanks to this, the reader meets Thanatos.

I think I'll leave it vague if the relationship would be platonic or romantic, but they definitely got off to a bad start.

We already know that Thanatos finds his work exhausting, so the fact that the reader clung to life and did not want to leave even when she was in horrible conditions bothered him to no end.

and on the other hand, the reader OBVIOUSLY did not want to die and it was annoying that he wished her dead (even if it was technically his job?) and that led to several verbal fights. at first.

Thanatos appeared at the reader's house when she was especially weak, whether she could not move on her own, had respiratory attacks and/or was in special pain, etc. episodes that, although temporary, were still close encounters with death.

When Reader and Thanatos eventually get tired of insulting each other in these moments, at first they just wait to see whether Reader will survive this particular episode or not, in a rather tense silence.

It is not until the third or fourth time this happens that the reader begins a conversation with Thanatos in an "informal" way.

As one can imagine, at first Thanatos didn't even react or try to continue with said conversation, just do his job and leave, but as time went by he began to show more signs of listening to what the reader was saying. and eventually even give short answers.

He doesn't share much, but now the reader doesn't go crazy being alone.

I also imagine that on some occasions, when the reader can't move much, she DRAG to go get food/medicine, which bothers Thanatos because it seems 1- unhygienic and 2- stupid in a certain sense, mortals get sick because of it. not taking care of themselves, does she NOT want to get better?

It is from there that their relationship begins to improve, but the reader's health worsens every day.

It's the same as what happens with the other villagers that Thanatos collects, weakness, coughing up blood, pain in the rib cage, inability to eat, difficulty breathing--

but even so, the reader STILL wants to cling to this miserable existence, she can't even eat or stand anymore and STILL doesn't want to leave...

WHY? WHY SUFFER THIS WAY INSTEAD OF SIMPLY DIE?

and the reader's response is quite simple.

There is no one who can give her a burial, but her family did have one, without that she would simply wander through the Underworld and be alone AGAIN.

but at the same time, the reader no longer has the strength to continue holding on, the pain is UNBEARABLE and the little energy she has leaves her...

Thanatos is there, at least.

I like to think that the reader would agree to go with Thanatos VOLUNTARILY if he even lets her see her family one last time, thus dying peacefully.

And it would be especially ironic if by chance the reader ends up as a shadow in the house of Hades😅

I think that in general, a deceased reader would be like a more responsible Hypnos, she is not going to bother the GOD OF DEATH so she does the minimum ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

She is definitely happier now that she is no longer in pain, but she was quite traumatized by the experience :') although on the positive side, she is one of the few people who can play pranks on Thanaros with almost no consequences!

simply....mortal reader sheneigans.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Maybe i could use this Reader with another characters? Idk. I didn't know how to finish this but i like it!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for disclosing how much my partner makes to an acquaintance?

For context my partner makes a fair bit of money at their job as an engineer. I have never made much more than minimum wage, work in a difficult field and am still in grad school. Essentially I have a net worth deep in the negatives from student debt and while my parents have helped me out on small stuff they are retired/partially retired.

The disparity of wealth in my relationship with my partner HAS been a source of strife between us.

In a casual conversation today, with my mom and some of coworkers who I know fairly well (I work pretty regularly with them and fill for absent employees at my moms work), they were asking some questions about my partner and our relationship. I expressed some stress in our relationship regarding funds and the disparity between where I am in my career/life and where my partner is.

My mom’s coworker asked how much my partner made so I told her. She asked so I told her. I didn’t really think twice - I’m pretty open with my own friends and family about how much I make and they are with me (I feel like a lot of young people are more open then older generations when it comes to salary) and I was also trying to emphasize my own frustration with some of my partners habits in our relationship. my partner is fairly obsessive with saving money/reducing spending which is obviously a lot easier to do when you make as much money as they do and puts that pressure very heavily on me despite our very different financial realities.

Also for more context - I don’t share funds or live with my partner. At most my partner pays for dates bc of their more stable financial situation - but other than that they don’t help directly besides offering advice.

Later that day my mom told me I was an asshole for sharing that as that coworker is having financial troubles right now and her husband is laid off. And telling her how much someone half her age makes is rude, since it’s a lot more than she and her husband make right now.

After hearing that I feel like I am the ass hole for being so willing to share that number since it is high. But I was not trying to brag (honestly if anything I was more using number to drive home how out of touch my partner is with what it’s like to legitimately struggle to buy food, pay rent etc)

One final note - I probs made my relationship sound toxic af. Don’t worry it’s all good - I’m all good my partner is good we just get into boring adult arguments about things like 401ks and credit scores. (And I’m in weird grad school limbo which makes trying to get on with your life annoying)

What are these acronyms?

[daydreamgoddess14]

Support System pt. 6

MASTERLIST

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Roy Kent x Reader

Are you ready? Cos we get really very spicy now my friends so.... be warned. Also, good god I think I'm in love with Roy Kent.

Chapter 6

She pushes the phone into your hand so you have no choice but to bring it to your ear, you still watch Roy who's moved to the otherside of the room. Your heart is still pounding and you feel like you've been given an electric shock. 

"Yeah?" You ask into the phone. 

"Can we talk?"

"Umm, we've just got back from the beach. I'll get Lexie settled and call you back?" You hang up without waiting for any real response.

"I'd better go." He says. 

"Thanks for a cool day Roy! Thanks for winning my unicorn teddy and the ice creams and for letting me go on your shoulders and… and… everything!" Lexie says jumping from foot to foot. 

"Thank you for the best day Lex. We should go again in the summer."

"Yeaaaaaah! Can we mum?"

"Of course we can bunny. Let's get you ready for bed, huh?" She zooms into the living room to gather up the new toys for her room while you see Roy to the door. "I'll see you soon?" You sound unsure, you've no idea where his head is at after the kiss. No idea where your own head is, really. You still feel a little dizzy from it and the coil in your belly is wound even tighter. 

"Yeah, see you soon." His eye catches the sunburn on your shoulders, now joined by beard burn and a little bite mark. He brushes it lightly with his finger and you can't help but lean into him. "Should have put some more cream on." He says quietly before closing the door behind him. You're left in the hallway in a weird limbo of being disappointed that he left and unbelievably turned on. It wasn’t fair, you should be on cloud 9. Instead, you head upstairs and concentrate on real life. You get Lexie into the bath and bed before doing the same yourself. You reluctantly pick up your phone to call Andy back, seeing that Sara has sent some pictures from the day with plenty of sunshine, ice cream and beer emojis on a group message to both you and Roy. There’s the kids playing in the sand, you and the girls looking at the shells you’d collected, one of you pointing and laughing at something out of focus - head thrown back, sunkissed and happy. In the picture, Roy is next to you but he’s not looking at whatever it is that’s got your attention, he’s looking at you. There are others - really great photos, a selfie of the three of you and then one of the five of you. They make your heart flutter. You respond with a heart emoji, not quite able to put into words just how much they all mean to you - and that’s without confronting your growing feelings for Roy. The photos were exactly what you needed for your next task. You press Andy’s contact picture and let it ring.

“Thanks for calling back.” You’re surprised, it’s the most civilised he's been for months. 

“Sorry it took a while. We both needed to get half a beach off us.”

“Did you have a good day? Did you go alone?”

“We went with one of Lexie’s friends from school. It was a lovely day.”

“She said you’re changing jobs.” 

“Yeah, handed my notice in last week. I’ve got about 6 weeks left.”

“You… don’t need to do that you know. Maybe we could work something out?”

“What do you mean?”

“I miss you.”

“Are you pissed?”

“No! Why?”

“You’ve been an absolute fucking nightmare for months - you’ve punished me and belittled me and shamed me for having a better job than you and what? Now I’m giving it up, you think we can get back together? Are you for real right now?” You’re trying to keep your voice down but you don’t think you’ve felt a rage like this in your life. Not even when you were both fighting constantly. 

“I just thought it would be good for Lexie, mum and dad together, making it work?” He mumbled.

“What’s good for Lexie is a happy family life - even if that’s separately. Making it work? Making both of us miserable more like.”

“I wasn’t miserable with you.”

“You had an odd way of showing it Andy. You’ve barely laid a finger on me for years, you criticise everything I do. I’m sorry, I can’t make Lexie happy by destroying myself in the process. I deserve to be really, really loved and you can’t do that. What’s this really about?” You’ve stripped away his arguments, Lexie being his trump card, he has no comeback.

“Lexie keeps talking about your new friends. I just thought… is there anything I can do to change-”

“No Andy, you’ll never change my mind on this. I wish I’d been brave enough to leave you rather than wait for you to leave me to be honest. We won’t talk about this again. Goodnight.” Absolute wanker! You hang up and grab a pillow to scream into. Jealousy, of course. You’d seen it briefly when you’d gone to his flat to pick Lexie up when she’d been poorly but because you’d seen him so rarely recently it hadn’t really registered. You could laugh, it’s only taken him the best part of 8 years for him to actually feel anything for you. 

The next couple of days are a blur of Easter holiday club for Lexie and work for you. There’s still no luck on the job front which makes you nervous, and Andy’s done you the decency of not calling you again. You’d naively hoped that he’d woken the next morning with a hangover and had been appalled at his own behaviour, but you also didn’t really care. Sara had taken to using the group message she’d sent the photos on for childcare planning - it made sense but it also meant that you didn’t have any other excuse for solely messaging Roy. When you finally unpacked the bags of junk from the beach day, you found his book rather than yours in the bag. You were picking the girls up that afternoon and taking Phoebe straight to her nans where Sara would pick her up. They came out of school with paint up their arms and in their hair from the craft activities laid on for them. You were looking forward to seeing Roy’s mum again and she welcomed you as she had before, with a huge hug. She was over the moon to finally meet Lexie who took to her immediately. When Sara arrived back from work a little while later, the girls helped her shake off her tiredness with a dance party (Taylor Swift of course) so the five of you - including Roy’s mum - were dancing around with music blasting, singing at the top of your lungs.

“Standing by and waiting at your back door, all this time, how could you not know, baby? You belong with me, you belong with me!” Until Phoebe screeched,

“Uncle Royyyy! I haven’t seen you for ages!”

“You saw me like two days ago you little weirdo.” He said surveying the chaos ahead of him. “Having fun?”

“It’s a dance party! Sara was sleepy so we needed to wake her up.” Lexie told him.

“Sara’s still sleepy but thanks for trying, guys.” She laughs.

“Come on Lexie-loo. Time for us to go.”

“But muuum!”

“No buts, we need to get you ready for dad’s tomorrow.” The two girls looked sombre that they’d be separated for a few days, but Sara grins at you over their heads,

“Freedom!” You get bags and shoes and say goodbye to Roy’s mum. You stop suddenly in the hall, not realising Roy was right behind you and making him bump into you. He puts a hand to your waist so he doesn’t push you over but it brings you flush to his chest. With his hand on your stomach, you know he had to feel the shuddering breath that leaves your body. You reach into your bag and turn to him, “nearly forgot, I ended up with your book.” 

“Keep it, I’d finished it. Did you finish yours?”

“Yeah, keep it. I promised it to you.” He watches you with dark eyes. You know nothing is going to happen, of course it’s not - there’s a house full of people, Lexie is behind you by the front door putting her trainers on. He nods once and puts a single kiss to your forehead.

“See you soon.”

“Bye,” you look over his shoulder intending to shout goodbye to Sara and her mum but Sara’s in the doorway, eyebrows raised and wide eyed.

“Bye babe, I’ll text you later.” She says casually with a look which is far from casual.

You have the following day off for a couple of interviews so you’ve arranged to pick Lexie up from holiday club and take her round to Andy’s yourself. You don’t really want to have to see him, but the plans were made before his pleas to try again. 

“Here’s your bag, bunny, your coat is inside. Be good, I’ll see you in a few days, ok?” You give her a big hug and kiss and she goes straight into the flat. Andy hovers by the door.

“You look good.”

“Thanks, I’ve had a couple of interviews.”

“Any good?”

“Not sure yet, we’ll see.”

“Ok well… good luck.” You nod, ready to escape but you can see he’s itching to say something else. “I just wanted to say sorry about the other night.”

“It’s ok, forgotten already.”

“Oh, cos I just wanted to check that you’re sure?” You shake your head with a little laugh,

“Yes, Andy. I’m sure. Please, don’t ask again. It’s not going to happen.”

“Right, right. Ok. Have a good week then.”

“Yeah, you too.” You leave his flat feeling lighter. You go back to your car leaving him behind, the clocks have changed so the evenings are light. Your drive takes you past the football club and down Roy’s street. His gate is open and the car is just inside. You turn in before you have a chance to chicken out. You ring the bell and wait. The double take as he answers the door means he didn’t see it was you on the doorbell camera,

“It’s you.” He states,

“Yeah, I was just passing. Is this a bad time, I can go?” You make to leave but he’s quick to stop you.

“No, no, of course it’s fine, come in. I was just cooking. Jesus, you look fucking gorgeous.” You leave your bag by the door and step out of your heels.

“Thank you. I’ve been interviewing today.”

“How did it go, what were the roles?”

“Still Deputy Comms Director. I’m not sure, it’s so hard to say. It’s been ages since I interviewed anywhere.”

“Did they give you any feedback?” Already your conversation with Roy is a complete contrast to Andy’s indifference. You have his undivided attention, he’s curious and interested.

“Not really. I think it’s just a waiting game. It’s so annoying, I only have about 5 weeks left. I’m worried that I was wrong to just resign with nothing to go to next.”

“Bold, not necessarily wrong.” He offers, pouring you a glass of wine.

“I think you’re being too kind there.” You laugh,

“Bollocks. If forced retirement has taught me anything, it’s that you have to accept what’s right for you. Sometimes that means it feels like you’re doing the wrong thing until it becomes the right thing.” You mull on his words while he cooks. The speaker is on quietly in the background while you drink your wine. It feels comfortable.

“Do you regret retiring?”

“Fuck no. My knee thanks me every day for it. I didn’t dare let myself think I’d actually enjoy coaching - I tried to make out like I’d hate it.”

“It felt like the wrong thing to do until it didn’t?”

“Exactly. You’ve got to trust yourself.” He puts a plate of pasta in front of you.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Don’t turn up at my house at dinner time and not expect to get fed.” He takes the seat next to you. 

“Tell me about the club. I’ve heard the rumours that Coach Lasso is leaving?”

“Doesn’t know what he fucking wants. He’s in love with the boss.”

“Really?! Does she know?”

“Nah, they’re both being idiots about it. Neither of them will say anything so he thinks the answer is to leave.”

“And it’s not?”

“No, he should tell her. Shouldn’t he?”

“Course he should. What happens if he leaves?”

“Not a clue. Guess I’ll find out if he ever makes a decision.”

“Not long to decide though. Maybe you should give him your ‘being bold’ pep talk.” You continue your meal together and help clean up afterwards. You didn’t have a reason for visiting in the first place, so you certainly didn’t have one to stick around, but he poured another glass of wine anyway. He seemed to be holding back from you a little, engaging in conversation about work and families but he didn’t once acknowledge the evening you’d returned from Brighton. You cleared your throat, “I had to see Andy today when I dropped Lexie off.”

“Oh yeah?” His frown deepened and unlike with Andy, you saw it immediately - jealousy. 

“Hmm. He, uhh, reckons we should try again.”

“Oh.” He picks at the label on his beer bottle. “Bet Lexie’s happy?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“How come?”

“Well I didn’t think it was a wise idea to tell my 8 year old that I told her dad to fuck off… so, there’s that.” He looked up sharply,

“You told him to fuck off?”

“Not in so many words. But I made it very clear that he should never ask me again.”

“Good. It’s probably not good for you - or Lexie - to keep dragging shit like that out and-”

“Roy?”

“Yeah?” You leaned up from your stool at the kitchen island and kissed him lightly. When you moved away, you watched him carefully, 

“If I’ve got this wrong again, I-” He stepped up to your knees, your tight skirt preventing him from getting much closer, and pulled you to him, kissing you so softly. It was entirely different to the first time he’d kissed you and yet felt just as desperate and wanting. He pulls your blouse out from the waistband of your skirt and leans back just enough to ask the silent question, are you sure? You’re not drunk, there are no kids to interrupt, no phones ringing… you know you’re sure, but you have to know that he is too. He anticipates what you’re about to ask,

“Course I’m fucking sure. You’re not wrong. You weren’t wrong last time. You were drunk, I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you.”

“And now?”

“I’d really like to take advantage of you, that ok?” He says with a chuckle.

“Yes, definitely yes.” You laugh, relieved. He kisses you again and though you know you have all the time in the world, you don’t want to waste a single second. 

“Fucking gorgeous.” He whispers against your neck, “borderline obscene, actually.” You laugh at his stolen compliment. His deft fingers pull your top up and off and you’re thankful you wore one of your really, really good bras for good luck for your interviews. You both decide at the same time that the other is just not close enough, your damn skirt in the way. He takes your hand to help you down from the stool and circles your waist, “this looks amazing, but it’s in the way.” You guide his hand to the zip at the side while you step up onto your tiptoes to pull his training t-shirt off. The skirt pools at your feet and his hands cover you, trying to explore everything all at once. “Up.” He taps your hip,

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck off.” He laughs, lifting you anyway. He doesn’t take you far, only to the sofa where he drops down with you still in his lap. You sit up on your knees so you can take your weight off his bad knee but he grips your hips, puts you back down and sides you further into his lap. You can feel him hard against you and it’s never been like this before, you’ve never been with someone who has made their need for you so obvious, never made you feel so wanted before. This thought alone helps banish your insecurities to the very back of your mind. He kisses a hot, wet path down your neck to the tops of your breasts, your sunburn faded to golden, but the freckles remain. The sensation of his beard against your skin makes you moan and you can’t help but roll your hips into him. He grips you tighter, holding you against him. You reach down between your bodies to pull at the waistband of his shorts. He takes the hint and lifts you both slightly so he can get rid of them. With the shorts out of the way, he can feel the heat and dampness of you against him, “Fuck me-” he breathes, hands tracing up your back to the clasp of your bra.

“Yes, please, yes.” Your hands are in his hair and you pull him back to your mouth for another searing kiss. You have to let go while he takes the straps of your bra down your arms but you press back up against him as soon as you can, the hair on his chest rough against your skin. You grind your hips down again, desperate to feel him against you. His hand goes between you both and he stops to check in again before touching you. You cup his cheek and nod, a shy smile. His fingers find your centre and brush against you. You breathe his name and your eyes flutter shut. Two fingers slide inside you and you think that’s already enough to send you over the edge. You rock against his hand, your forehead against his.

“Open your eyes,” he rasps, “I want to see you.” The second you open your eyes, he presses his thumb to your clit and you cry out. He doesn’t let up, working you through your orgasm until you're choking back a sob. You catch your breath for a moment, but the need for him is overwhelming.

“Need you now, have you got-”

“I’m clean, constant fucking medicals. You?” You nod and he slips your underwear to one side. You lift up to line him up against you and slide down onto him slowly. The stretch is exquisite, too much and yet absolutely perfect all at the same time. You take him fully and pause for a second to revel in the feeling of having him inside you. He kisses you softly, “you feel incredible. God, you’re so beautiful.” He takes your hips while you set the pace but it doesn’t take long for either of you to reach the edge. You come again with his name on your lips and he’s right there with you, bruising your hips with his grip. You slump against his shoulder, nose against his neck.

“Holy shit,” you manage eventually, feeling him laugh against you.

“Yeah, you’re not fucking wrong.” He pulls a blanket from the back of the sofa and wraps it over you as you slip off his lap to sit next to him. Neither of you says anything, his hands run up and down your calves as you sit with your legs in his lap. He reaches over to tuck your hair behind your ear, “will you stay?”

“If that’s ok?” He gets up and takes your hand, pulling you with him.

“Come on, shower and bed. I’ve got training with Jamie at 4am.”

You wake up briefly to a kiss on the back of your neck.

“Back in a bit, go back to sleep.” He whispers, kissing your earlobe. You sigh happily and snuggle down into the bed, pulling his pillow with you. You hadn’t gotten much sleep, waking every so often to soft caresses and kisses. Your body ached in a way you’d never felt before. You slip back into sleep again, waking a couple of hours later to a cup of tea and warm arms around you.

“How was training?” You ask, voice still full of sleep.

“Painful.” He laughed. You sit up to drink your tea, sitting in between his legs, his back against the headboard and yours against his chest. “Can I ask you something?” He murmurs, a hand drifting over your thigh, you let out a needy moan, it’s almost absurd how he can make you want him so badly. “Remember I had that suit fitting? There’s a gala for work next week. Will you come with me?” You turn to put your tea down and then kiss him.

“I’d love to. Thank you.” You smile.

“I’ve got an hour. What time do you have to go?”

“Same.”

“Good.” He smirks, pulling you back down to him.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 18

Finally some good news for our sweet Frankie and his girl, stuck in this nightmare The Last of Us universe that I so cruelly created for them!

Happy Frankie Friday!

Chapter 19

Series Master List

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings have their own post.

Life in the QZ is strange. It’s like living in limbo, it feels like you’re waiting for something but you don’t know what. A return to normal life? Or for this to feel normal? But at the same time there’s an ever present knot of fear in the pit of your belly, that the infection will spread inside the walls, or that the infected will get inside. Sometimes you forget about the knot but then something happens, a loud noise, someone shouting, a gun firing in the distance, and the fear returns. Having Frankie close helps, you always feel safe with him next to you. But you both work, mandatory for all inhabitants in the QZ if you want to eat. So most of the time he’s not by your side and you bite back the fear and try to get on it with. 

The first week you try to figure out your role in this new setting, how to talk to people about everyday things while you, and everyone around you, has gone through a type of trauma you couldn’t have even imagined only a few months ago. Your new co-workers all seem to handle the situation differently, some say nothing unless they have to, others never stop talking about what life was like before the outbreak. The worst ones complain about everything, the food, the work, the accommodation, until your supervisor tells them to shut the fuck up and docks their rations cards for the day. You didn’t even know that was a thing so you keep your head down and do your job. You’ve thankfully been put on kitchen duty, your skill as a cook the one thing that was deemed useful in the QZ. You spend your days inventing new ways of combining beans and rice, the two dry goods staples that there seems to be no shortage of, into new dishes for the FEDRA soldiers, including Frankie. 

Frankie has patrols and guard duty most days. He doesn’t tell you much about what he does, saying it’s all routine. Until one evening when he comes back late and there’s blood on his uniform and a bright cut on his cheek, his hands shaking as he unbuttons the shirt. You’re standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching him struggle with it, so you gently push his hands away and slip the buttons from their holes, your fingers staining red with blood. 

“Talk to me, Frankie,” you say in a low voice, looking up at him as he looks down at your hands. 

He shakes his head, “You don’t need to hear it, cariño,” he says but you know that’s not how it works anymore. 

“You need to talk to me, Frankie, you can’t keep all the bad stuff inside just to protect me.” You push the shirt off his shoulders and drop it in the sink, filling it up with cold water, letting the t-shirt go the same way as he pulls it over his head. 

“I see some pretty grim stuff out there, I don’t want you to know how bad it gets,” he sighs as you gently push him down on the toilet seat, taking out the first aid kit. 

“You may want to protect me, but the people in the kitchen don’t care, they talk about all the stuff they’ve seen or what they’ve heard about from other soldiers,” you say, “I hear about the grim stuff every day.” 

Frankie seems to scan your face for a minute while you clean out the cut on his cheek, when you’re done he gently takes your hand and presses his lips to your palm. 

“I had to learn how to push the grim shit to the back of my mind when I was in the military,” he says, still holding on to your hand. “I made myself indifferent to the pain and suffering I saw others go through, just so that I could get on with the mission. Indifferent to the pain and suffering I inflicted. I don’t want you to have to do the same, cariño.” 

“If I ask you to tell me about the stuff you go through, I’m doing it to help you, I’m not going to be indifferent to that, Frankie,” You slip your fingers between his and make him stand up, unbuttoning his cargo pants and pushing them down. They’ve got dark mud stains along one side and you pick them up and dump them in the laundry basket. “I want to know what you go through, because I love you and I want to help you, so you don’t have to carry it all on your own. That’s kinda part of the whole ‘wife’ thing you asked me to be.” 

You see his mouth quirk up in a small smile as you poke his chest, “Get in the shower, Morales, and tell me about your day.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Atta boy.” 

The second week of your time in the QZ sees your routine start to crystalize; get up, quick shower, breakfast with Frankie if your schedules match up, otherwise you head over to the big kitchen you work in and have breakfast there. You always stop by the service center first and scan the notice board that contains lists of people in this QZ and any updated lists of inhabitants of other QZ’s. So far none of your friend’s names have appeared on any lists. Only Benny and Hannah so far and Frankie hasn’t been able to get through to him yet, he only had a short message from Ben saying Hannaha and him were ok.

Once you’re done with breakfast you spend the rest of the day preparing and planning meals for the soldiers. The kitchen is in an old high school building, the large school kitchen ideal for preparing meals for big groups. The cafeteria now serves as a mess hall for soldiers rather than high schoolers and it’s bizarre seeing the high school banners and colors hanging on the walls over rows of men and women in army fatigues. You usually have the early shift and then you’re done by mid-afternoon, free to do what you want within the confines of the QZ. When Frankie’s shift ends around the same time he’ll meet you in the high school gym. He’s started training you, as he promised in his note for you, teaching you basic fight techniques and how to get away if someone grabs you. It’s exhausting, Frankie is not going easy on you, making you drip with sweat as he encourages you to punch his flat palms harder. Trying to break free of his grip is even harder, his weight and length makes it easy for him to just pin you down. But he makes you practice a few basic moves over and over until you are able to throw him off balance and break free most of the time. At the end of your second week in the QZ your body is aching, your knuckles are raw, but the bruise on Frankie’s jaw from is proof that you’d managed to learn something useful at least. 

On Monday afternoon of your third week you leave the kitchen and head for home. Frankie’s got a late shift and won’t be home until dinner time. You drop off an application for some clothes that you need at the donation center and take a new route home. You weren’t familiar with the city before the outbreak and Frankie had tasked you with learning your way around all the streets. He’d said it was a safety precaution in case something, anything, happened and you needed to move swiftly through the city. You hoped you’d never need the skill but you still took different routes home every day, wandering aimlessly, mapping the streets in your head. 

Today you come to a small square where some people have set up makeshift stalls, really just blankets on the ground, to sell anything they didn’t need. People would barter or trade for ration cards, the inofficial currency of the QZ. After a few miserable rainy days, the weather was nice again and it seemed to have brought out more people than usual, making you have to weave and dodge around the crowd as you make your way across the marketplace. You don’t notice the dark haired man crouching down by one of the blankets, talking to the owner selling an assortment of shoes. But he seems to sense you, maybe he catches a glimpse of your hair from the corner of his eyes, and he stands up, staring at your back as you weave past the last of the people. 

You hear your name called, a tentative tone to it, questioning if it’s really you and you turn, looking back at the crowd of people. At first you don’t see him, but then he steps forward, looking like he doesn’t trust his eyes. 

“Pope!” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as you take a step towards him and it makes him spring into action. In a few quick steps he’s on you, his arms thrown around you, hugging you tight as you wind your arms around his neck, holding onto him as you feel tears start to well up in your eyes. 

“Pope, you’re alive!” you sob, your heart feels like it’s about to explode with relief and happiness, “You’re actually alive!”

“I am, and so are you, hermana, I can’t believe it,” Pope’s laughing into your ear as he hugs you tighter, “I can’t fucking believe it!” 

He pulls back, his arms still tight around your waist and looks down at your tear stained face. “Frankie?” he asks, his smile giving way to a pensive look and you beam at him through your tears, nodding. 

“He’s alive, he’s here too!” 

Pope blows out a loud sigh of relief and hugs you tight again, “Thank fucking god, I would’ve killed him otherwise.” 

“I’ve got so many questions,” you say, still buried against his shoulder, and he pulls back again, “what happened after you left the cabin?” 

Pope sighs, loosening his grip on you but his hands still holding on to your shoulders, shaking his head. “It’s a long story, so much shit went wrong.” He suddenly grips you harder, his eyes wide with fear, “Lucía? Is she with you, please, fuck, please tell me she’s with you!”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, you don’t know how to get the words past your lips, but he sees your face and understands, without words he understands exactly. He drops his hands and steps past you, walking away from the market, and from behind you see him raise a fist to his mouth. You follow him, further away from the crowd, and when he stops you stand in front of him. He drops his fist, his eyes wide, staring towards the sky and you can see  tears collecting in his thick lashes. When he drops his gaze down to his boots tears drip down and you reach out and hug him, folding your arms around his neck, one hand on the back of his head. He doesn’t sob the way Frankie does, he trembles under you, shaking, but no sounds come from him, just his ragged breath. 

“How?” he asks eventually, lifting his head from where he’d dropped it on your shoulder. 

“We got to her house Monday afternoon, they’d been evacuated by soldiers, taken to Franklin. So we followed but…” you hesitate, the memory of the pile of dead bodies on the side of the road floats up to the forefront of your mind. Lucía’s mom with bullet holes, Lucía’s dress, Frankie’s voice when he thought she was alive, and the inhuman scream from her as she tried to attack him. The gunshot. 

“It was a nightmare, Santi,” you whisper. “They’d killed all the evacuees, they were all on the side of the road, shot.”

“I heard rumors about them executing people who weren’t infected, but even children…” 

“They were infected, or at least some of them were,” you interrupt him. “Lucía was infected, she…” you draw a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut at the memory. “She was infected when we got there, we thought she was alive but then…Santi…” you look at him, dreading telling him the worst part of Frankie’s trauma. “She…Frankie had to…” you can’t bring yourself to say it, but he understands, his dark eyes reflecting your pain. 

He wraps his arms around you again and together you stand still, holding each other up as the images from that day swirl in your head again, and Pope begins to understand what kind of state Frankie will be in when he finally sees  his best friend again. 

Pope puts his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walk to your apartment, not talking much, he tells you where he’s living and skirts your question about what he’s working with. It raises a twinge of suspicion in you but you drop it. A lot of stories will need to be told to cover all the time that’s passed since you last saw Pope in your old apartment back home, and you’d rather have Frankie with you for that. He’s not home yet when you unlock the apartment door, he’s not due for another half an hour, so you point Pope to the couch and start dinner. 

“I have news about Benny and Hannah,” you say as you pull out a pot to boil rice. “They’re in the Arlington QZ, Frankie had a message from him a couple of days ago.” 

“Oh shit, really?” Pope says, sitting up straight on the couch, “are they ok?” 

“We don’t know anything except that they’re there and the soldier who told me hadn’t heard anything about Benny having a brother so we think Will isn’t with him.” 

“A soldier from the New York QZ told me recently about a guy who sounded very much like Will, but I haven’t been able to verify it. I’ve been asking around every chance I get.” 

“How would Will end up in New York though? That’s hours away even if you could drive the whole way.” You look over at Pope who just shakes his head, and shrugs. 

“I have no idea why he would be there, but that’s the only lead I have.”

A key in the front door draws your attention and Pope stands up, he’s directly in line of sight of the door and he’s grinning when the door swings open. Frankie’s got his eyes on a note in his hand as he walks through the door. 

“Cariño, they’re turning off the water tomor-” He stops dead in his tracks as he spots Pope. 

“Cada día eres más feo,”  Pope grins at Frankie’s stunned face before taking two steps and grabbing hold of his jacket, pulling him in for a bear hug. Frankie stumbles into him, hugging him back, still dazed. 

“Pope..how?” He pulls back from the hug staring at his friend, his face splitting into a grin as he claps Pope’s shoulders, “Where the fuck did you come from, pendejo?!”

“I ran into your girl on the street, she told me you guys just got here and invited me over.” Pope’s grin is as wide as Frankie’s and he’s grabbed hold of the other man’s face, looking at him like he can’t believe he’s real. 

“Fuck, you make it sound like you just dropped by for a fucking house warming,” Frankie says, pulling him in for another hug, “It’s fucking good to see you, hermano.” He lets go of Pope and, still grinning, kicks off his boots as Pope walks back to the living room. You’re leaning on the kitchen counter with a smile, looking at the two men reunite. Frankie comes over to you for a kiss before turning back to Pope. 

“Where have you been, how did you end up here?” he asks, sinking down on the couch and Pope joins him, grabbing hold of Frankie’s shoulder. You grab three glasses and a bottle of whiskey Frankie had found while on patrol, you’d been meaning to use it to trade with but this was better use. 

“Frankie,” Pope says, his voice suddenly serious as he looks at the other man, “I heard…about Lucía.” 

Frankie gives a short nod and drops his eyes, looking at his hands for a second before he grabs one of the glasses, you can see his hands start to tremble. 

“I can’t talk about it,” he says, before downing the whiskey, grasping hard at the empty glass as he looks up at you, seeking your support. 

“I get it, man, I’m…” Pope drifts off, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling. “Fuck.” He draws a deep breath and accepts the glass of whiskey from you, you refill Frankie’s and then your own. 

“So you guys go to the cabin?” Pope asks, looking over at you. 

“Yeah, we got there early Sunday evening, we saw your note and left for Lucía’s place early Monday morning.” you say, sitting down next to Frankie on the couch. “After…” you glance over at Frankie who’s dropped his gaze back to his hands, “after we went back to the cabin. And we stayed there until a few weeks ago, hoping any of you guys would turn up but no one did. We survived on Denny’s supplies but when they ran out we had to head out and find more. Things went bad and we got attacked by looters, they took the supplies we had left and held us prisoner at their farm.” You shudder at the memory, still too fresh in your mind. “Frankie got us out, killed them, but our supplies were lost so we had no choice but to come here.” 

“I tried getting back to the cabin but I was injured,” Pope says, pulling up his shirt and showing a fresh scar on his right side. “I was on the bike, just as I was getting into Lucía’s town some fucking hillbilly took a shot at me. I crashed the bike, managed to kill the guy when he came after me, but then I lost consciousness. Next thing I know I woke up with a rifle against my chest, nearly got shot again.” Pope takes a sip of his whiskey, shaking his head at the memory. “It was a military convoy going through town collecting evacuees, probably the same one that picked up Lucía. They were killing anyone infected or injured but I told them I was Special Ops and they patched me up.” He looks over at Frankie’s who’s lifted his eyes and is looking at Pope as he tells his story. 

“Frankie, if I’d known…they told me they were taking the whole town to the QZ, so I went with them…I…” 

“It would’ve been too late,” Frankie shakes his head, “It wouldn’t have made any difference. I know how she got infected and it would’ve been too late even if you’d gotten there before the soldiers.” 

You look over at Frankie, he’d never said anything about how she got infected before and as he sees your questioning look he takes your hand. 

“It was the fucking pancakes, the box mix. FEDRA has information about the infection starting in the food supply, in cereal products like pancake mix. Her mom always used the fucking box mix even though I told her it was shit.” His shoulders sag and he takes another long sip of the whiskey. 

“Fuck…” you breath, trying to process the information. 

“I’d heard rumors about that too,” Pope says, “that’s what people are saying but FEDRA has never confirmed it.” 

“Why do you think they serve only beans and rice to the soldiers?” Frankie says, looking over at Pope, “I’ve got fucking beans and rice coming out of my ears.” 

“What happened after you got to the QZ, Pope?” you ask. 

“It wasn’t set up like it is now, they had a temporary set up, blocked off streets with barricades while they set up a fence.” Pope shoves his hand through his thick hair, his eyes suddenly very tired, “I don’t remember much, I got septicemia, I was out of it for the better part of a month, they didn't have enough antibiotics, most of the supplies got destroyed in the outbreak. The major hospital here caught fire and burnt almost clean to the ground.” He leans back against the couch and sighs, “It’s not been good in here, by the time I was back on my feet the wall had gone up, FEDRA had taken control and they control who leaves the QZ, and who comes in. You’re not allowed to leave unless you’re being transferred to another QZ.” He looks over at Frankie, still in his uniform, “And you’re working for them, Fish?” 

“Yeah, it was the only way we could get in,” Frankie says, “And it comes with benefits, but I’m starting to see some sides of FEDRA I don’t like.” 

You nod next to Frankie, you’d heard the stories too by now. The staff in the kitchen would complain loudly about the food, the work they had to do, the accommodation, but never about FEDRA so that the supervisors could hear. But at breaks, and in whispered conversations in the dry good storage, you were told about the injustices in the system FEDRA had put in place. From small things like docking rations when you turned up late to work, to things that made your skin crawl, FEDRA soldiers abusing their power by demanding services from women in the QZ, especially those who didn’t have family to protect them. One of the women in the kitchen had looked at you with envy, “You'll be protected, your guy´s one of the officers, just make sure you know where he gets any extras he comes home with.” You’d told Frankie about the conversation and his eyebrows had furrowed, a dark look in his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’ve stayed away from them,” Pope says, “I gave them a fake name when they put me in the hospital.” You raise your eyebrows in a questioning look and he chuckles, “Some habits die hard, I try to stay under cover when I can.” 

“So that’s why I haven’t seen your name on any of the lists of residents!” you exclaim, reaching over and slapping his arm, “We’ve been looking every day for you, pendejo!” 

“You teaching her the bad words now, hermano?” Pope smiles and bats your hand away. “She definitely picked that one up from you, I’m sure,” Frankie retorts with a grin and you can’t help but feel happiness bubble up inside you as you see his smile, having Pope back was a god send, especially for Frankie.

“I’m gonna plate dinner, you guys wanna keep up with the whiskey or switch to water?” 

“Water,” Frankie immediately says, “I have an early shift tomorrow.”  

Dinner stretches on late into the night, despite Frankie needing to get up early the next day. You talk about your friends, about memories from before the outbreak, all three feeling the need for a break from the grim reality you now live in. Halfway through dinner Pope notices the ring on your left hand ring finger and grins big.  “Congratulations,” he smiles and points to your hand and you grin as you look down at it. 

“Thanks, Frankie decided to be a romantic despite the world ending.” 

“Good job, Fish, told you she’d say ‘yes’.” 

“You knew?” you ask with a surprised look on your face. 

“Of course! I helped him pick the ring. Although, the one I suggested had much bigger diamonds, just so you know.” 

Frankie gives him a friendly slap on the arm, “Shut up, you know why I picked this one and not your fake looking iceberg.” 

“Why did you pick this one? I meant to ask you but I forgot with everything that happened.” You hold up your hand so that you can look at the thin gold band, three small diamonds in a row.

“Three diamonds, one for you, one for me, one for Lucía,” Frankie says, his voice low. “And room for more diamonds if we have kids together.” 

“Frankie…” you whisper, taking his hand and pulling it to your heart. He gives you a small smile and Pope slaps his back. 

“Go on, Fish, kiss her, I won’t look.” 

That makes Frankie chuckle and he pulls you onto this lap, making the old chair creak under your combined weight as he holds you close for a long kiss, tangling his fingers in your hair until Pope clears his throat and pours more whiskey, calling for a toast. 

In the end Frankie tells Pope to crash on the couch rather than walk home, the curfew is about to go into effect anyway. Frankie gives him the spare blanket as he pulls his sweater off, you disappear into the bathroom for a quick shower. 

“I’m really happy she found you, man,” Frankie says, putting his hand on Pope’s shoulder, “It’s a fucking weight off my chest seeing you in one piece.” 

Pope grabs Frankie and pulls him in for a hug, grabbing hold of the back of his neck to hold him tight. “Same, man, it’s good to see you. And I went through fucking hell leaving her at your apartment, Fish, but she wouldn’t leave you behind. And the relief when I saw her today, you have no idea. And then you too.” 

“Yeah,” Frankie mumbles, his arms tight around Pope, “she’s been my rock, she never gives up on me. Even when I’m about to give up on myself.” 

Pope pulls back, looking at his friend’s dark eyes, “Shit got dark, I almost walked away, after Lucía…” Frankie shakes his head, dropping his eyes from Pope’s steady gaze. “I knew I had to keep her safe, but then, when I got her somewhere safe, I was gonna leave, let her get on with her life without my broken ass. But she never gave up on me.” 

“If you’d walked out on her, I would’ve tracked you down and slapped your sorry ass,” Pope’s voice is gentle despite his words as he pulls Frankie’s head against his so that their foreheads are touching. “I know the shit you’ve already gone through, Frankie, before all this, and I can see the shit you’re dealing with now. But you’ve got her, and you’ve got me, and I’m not fucking giving up on you this time either.” 

Frankie gives a small nod, and Pope lets go of his neck.

“Better get some sleep, hermano, early start,” he says, picking up the blanket and shaking it out over the couch. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you in the morning, Pope,” Frankie says, giving the man’s shoulder a final squeeze before he heads into the bedroom. You join him a few minutes later after saying good night to Pope too. Curling up next to Frankie, his arms wrapping around you, you grab his cheeks between your palms, pressing a kiss to his soft lips. 

“I’m never giving up on you either, Frankie.” 

Early next morning Frankie drags himself out of bed and you follow him, getting breakfast ready for the three of you as he’s in the shower. Santi is sitting bleary eyed on the couch, rubbing the crust out of his eyes. 

“How’d you sleep? Not sure how comfortable that couch is,” you say to him as you get the coffee going. Thank god for endless coffee shops, at least there’s plenty of coffee to go around for now. 

“Between the whiskey, good food and finally knowing you guys are safe, I slept like a baby,” he yawns. “I was thinking though, we should try to get a message to Benny, see how things are in Arlington. Maybe it’s worth transferring there, team up with Benny and we could all go back to our old apartments, if they’re inside the QZ.” 

“From what I hear, it’s not too hard to get a transfer, the difficult part is actually getting to the QZ,” you say, pouring milk into Santi’s coffee and handing it to him as he comes into the kitchen. 

“You shouldn’t be using your rations on me, hermana, I’ll pay you back,” he says but accepts the coffee gratefully. You pour another mug for yourself and Frankie before you pull out the powdered eggs and tinned ham .

“Don’t be silly, Pope, you know it doesn’t work like that, we’re family, now more than ever.” 

“I’m grateful anyway, you know that.” He hooks an arm around your shoulder, giving you a squeeze, before he sits down at the small table. Frankie ambles into the kitchen, pushing his fingers through his damp hair and grabs his coffee too before pulling out a frying pan to cook the ham while you deal with the “eggs”. Before long you’re all sitting down for breakfast. 

“Pope thinks we should try to talk to Benny and see how things are in Arlington and maybe get a transfer.” You say to Frankie and he nods. 

“I was thinking the same thing, we have a good chance of getting a transfer there as it’s our hometown. The trick is actually getting there in one piece, I’m not risking your life again, cariño,” Frankie puts his hand on your leg, but Pope shakes his head. 

“I heard FEDRA does convoys with supplies between cities, you’re military, you’d get a lift with that, both you and her, no problem.”

“And you? How’d you get transport?” You ask, giving Pope a worried look, “you’re not even here under your real name.” 

“I’ve made a few connections, a couple of people owe me big favors,” he grins, “I’m sure I can get a seat on a convoy.” 

“Always making deals, always have a way, you don’t change, Pope,” Frankie says, looking at his friend who raises his coffee mug in mock salute. 

“You know it, Frankie!”

“When do you think you can arrange for a radio call with Benny?” you ask Frankie. He’s the one who has the best chance at getting a radio call approved, with his rank in FEDRA. 

“In a couple of days probably, I’ll put in the request today. I’ll try to schedule it for an afternoon that you’re not working, all three of us should be there.” Frankie looks over at Pope, “What are you doing for work? You’re not in FEDRA, but you’ve got to eat, right?” 

Pope waves his hand in a vague gesture, “A bit of this and that, I do those daily jobs they’re always looking for people to do.” 

“The stuff no one else wants to do?” you ask, raising your eyebrows, “I hear they’re really nasty jobs, burning bodies, sewage details, that kinda stuff.” 

“Better me than some poor civvie,” Pope says with a shrug, “I’ve seen much worse, I can handle it.” 

“Santi…” you say, shaking your head, “you could do a lot better than that, FEDRA will take you any day, you could patrol with Frankie.” 

“And have Fish give me orders?” Pope chuckles, giving a mock salute at Frankie, who grins. “No, no offense, Fish, but I don’t think FEDRA is the way to go for me. There's a bit more to be done on the private side.” He drains his mug and pushes back from the table, getting to his feet, “Besides, I’m staying with a woman who’s good enough to share her rations when I bring home useful stuff.” 

“What do you mean ‘bring home useful stuff’?” Frankie asks, looking up at Pope who’s got a sly grin. 

“You know, stuff ration cards don’t cover, or stuff that’s hard to find. You know me, I always had a nose for finding useful things.” 

“Pope, man, are you going outside the wall?” Frankie says, standing up and looking at his friend with knotted eyebrows. 

“Never, too risky,” Pope says immediately and you both know he’s lying through his teeth with how fast his reply is. “Anyway, I’ve got to go, gonna go see if I can pick up a job today. Let me know when the radio call with Benny comes through, ok?” 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come find you as soon as I know,” Frankie says and Pope pulls him in for a hug.  “Mantente a salvo, hermano.” 

“Tú también.” Frankie claps Pope’s back before the younger man heads out the door. 

“He’s definitely lying about not going outside of the wall,” you say to Frankie after Pope has left. 

“Yeah, he’s a world class liar but not good enough for his friends,” Frankie shakes his head. “FEDRA puts people who got outside the wall in lock up, repeat offenders are locked up for good, transferred to a prison near San Antonio. I hope he’s fucking careful, both for his sake and for ours.” 

“I just hope he doesn’t get himself infected,” you say, “I hate that I have to worry about him too now, not just you.” 

Frankie takes your hand, taking the dirty dishes from you and putting them on the counter before pulling you into his arms. “Pope’s a big boy, he can handle himself, and he doesn’t need you worrying about him.” He leans down and puts his forehead against yours, looking at you so that all you can see are his warm, brown eyes. “Don’t worry, cariño lindo.” 

“I can’t help it, I know what you face some days, and it scares me.” 

“I’m better trained than almost everyone in FEDRA, and I’m extra careful, and do you know why?” 

You shake your head gently, Frankie’s hands coming up to cup your cheeks, running his thumbs over the soft skin. 

“Because I have you to come home too. Every decision I make when I’m out on patrol is based on you, coming home to you, that’s my priority, everything else comes second.” Frankie brushes his lips over yours, “Hermosa….” his warm breath ghosting over your skin, “Every morning I leave your warm body in our bed, and every second of every day it’s the one thing that keeps me going, knowing that I get to come home and crawl into bed next to you.” He presses his plush lips against yours and you feel yourself melt into him as you wrap your arms around his waist. 

“You’re gonna be late,” you mumble into his mouth and he tilts his head, slipping his tongue in between your lips. 

He is late that morning but only five minutes and when his C.O. asks why he says he was stopped by civilians asking for directions. And it turns out it’s lucky he’s late because everyone else has already gone down to check out their guns from weapons storage when the radio call comes in from Arlington QZ and he gets sent up to answer it. 

“Franklin QZ, Captain Morales here. Go ahead Arlington, over.” 

“Fuck me! Catfish! Is that you?!” Benny’s shocked voice comes over the radio, forgetting all radio commands. 

“Benny!” Frankie yells down the microphone. “Yeah, it’s me! So good to hear your voice, man! How are you?!” 

“I’m good, Fish! I couldn’t believe it when I heard you both made it to Franklin! I’ve been worried fucking sick about you and the rest of the guys!”

“I’ve got even better news, pal,” Frankie laughs, “Pope’s here too! Ran into him out of the blue and he’s been here the whole time, got here a few days after the outbreak.” 

“No fucking way! That’s awesome” Benny laughs down the radio channel but Frankie swallows, he knows he needs to ask about Will and he braces himself for bad news. 

“Benny, I’ve got to ask, is Will with you?” The silence that follows is telling and Frankie squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his knuckles into the eyelids. 

“No,” Benny’s voice comes back after a long pause, “I haven’t heard from him since the outbreak. I was meant to have dinner with him and Hannah that night, but then shit started popping off and when he didn’t come home Hannah and I got really worried. She stayed behind at their house, and I took the car to go look for him at the office. I tried getting to it but there were infected everywhere, and…” The line goes quiet for so long Frankie starts to think the connection’s been lost before Benny’s voice finally comes through the static. “The building was on fire, that restaurant by the entrance, something must’ve made it catch, because it was blazing. If he was still in the building…or in the street…” 

“Pope said he’d spoken to a soldier from the New York QZ who mentioned a guy who sounded like Will,” Frankie says, just to give Ben some semblance of hope. 

“I’ve asked everyone, Fish, every QZ we’re in touch with, no one has heard of William Miller.” Even through the crackling line Frankie can hear Benny’s deep sigh, “I’m not giving up but…Hannah’s grieving him, she doesn’t think he made it, and the more time that passes…” Benny’s voice drops off. 

“I’m really sorry, Ben, I really am, man, but I’ll keep asking here too, ok?” 

“Frankie, when Ingrid told me about you guys being in quarantine she said it was only you and your girl…?” 

Frankie was expecting Benny to ask but he still feels his throat close up as the memory of his daughter surges to the surface and he clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms. He shakes his head, his eyes on his hands, before he remembers the other man can’t see him. 

“She didn’t make it,” he presses out between his teeth and the tension in his voice lets Benny know, through the patchy radio line and miles that separate them, how fragile Frankie is. He’s quiet on the other end when Frankie lets go of the button, pressing it down on his end to speak but he can’t find the words, opening his mouth to say something but closing it again. Finally, after what feels like minutes he just breathes out a low Fuck over the airwaves. 

“Yeah,” Frankie’s voice comes through, low and tight, and the silence stretches between them again untill Frankie shakes his head to clear it, “Listen, Benny, I’ve got to go, what’s the message for HQ?” 

“Sorry, man, didn’t mean to keep you,” Benny says, picking up a folder at his end. “There’s a convoy coming through, ETA Monday next week. Three transfers, agreed upon supplies and ammo, all accounted for.” 

“Ok, got it, I’ll pass it on.” Frankie responds, jotting down the information on the pad next to the microphone. “Listen, we were talking about applying for a transfer over to Arlington, all three of us, what do you think?” 

“Yeah, absolutely man, put me down as a reference on the application, I’ll get it through. I don’t think Arlington is in any better state than Franklin but at least we’ll be in the same QZ.” 

“Ok, good, we’ll get that done. I’ve gotta sign off now, Benny. Fucking great hearing your voice though, man.”

“Same, Fish, really fucking same, stay safe, all of you.” 

Benny hesitates, Frankie can hear it in his voice, years of knowing Benny and he can all but see the look on the younger man’s face. “I’m really sorry about Lucía, I loved- love her.” 

“Thanks, Benny,” Frankie pushes his nails into his palms again. “I’ll talk to you soon, man, ok?” 

“Yeah, talk to you soon and see you soon, gonna be good, man.” 

Frankie signs off and leans back in his chair, taking a moment to shove the memories of Lucía into the back of his mind before he goes on duty. He hears steps in the corridor and looks up, his C.O. looking in through the door. 

“Everything ok, Morales?”

“Yes, sir, just gonna pass this message from Arlington to HQ.” 

“Good, sign out your gun when you’re done and join Johnsson in the training yard.” 

“Yes, sir”. 

He pushes up out of the chair and gets to work, forcing his mind into soldier mode for the rest of the day.

Chapter 19

A note on how Pope greets Frankie: "Cada día eres más feo" (Every day you're uglier). It's what Frankie says to Pope when they greet each other in Triple Frontier (so it felt fitting to use here), except Pedro says something along the lines of "Ca´día más feo"if I'm hearing it correctly. I had to ask the latino husband and he says it's basically just sloppy Spanish, dropping half the words and mashing the rest together. So I went with the grammatically correct version, husband approved. 😅

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko  @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse

[laugtherhyena]

Now that you brought it up I'm SUPER curious how sdra2 -2+2 would go down, especially the aftermath!

Since you said especially the aftermath, allow me to ramble about just that! It is something i really like thinking about with this Au, but i can totally make another post talking about the changes in the actual Kg if asked :]

-The exit code Teruya and Rei had in canon has been signficantly changed here. It's basically this safety that could exit them out of the game on command but also save them if they ever died in the sim by creating a copy/backup of their avatars, this however was never properly tested before they went in since they were in a hurry and when they needed it this code didn't work as intended.

Teruya and Rei

Rei used it to exit the game in the prologue but instead of getting her out she became glitched in this sorta digital limbo through the rest of the Sdra2 Kg and all she could really do was try to communicate with Sora (since she's an Ai and not a human). When the sim resets/shuts down during the mass execution she essentially died, and Teruya died as well because of the Ch5 stuff. However! The backup code did work! Just not as well as they wished.

It did do its job, but the backup avatars were on a glitched state. The two are essentially in a coma of sorts, so only Tsurugi and the girls join the sim to be a part of the Ch6 trial.

When they do finally wake up a good while after the Kg ended, they're still left with a few sequelae even though Kokoro did her absolutely best to restore their avatars as much as she could. Teruya now has a couple memory issues and Rei has chronic headaches, but hey, that's certainly better than not coming back at all.

Kokoro

-Their predicament is the whole reason why Kokoro wasn't arrested immediatelly after the killing game ended, as the person who basically created the simulation she told Kinjo that she could fix their avatars and bring them back safely. After much consideration (and convincing from Ayame, Kizuna and Hibiki's part) he agrees to have Kokoro work on bringing back Teruya and Rei + search the simulation for any remnants of Ai Mikado to delete him completely. She also tries to find what's left of Sora and put her back together, but that's not something Kinjo or anyone ordered her to do. (Sora was one of the few that believed she could change and were sympatethic to her in some extent after the reveal that she abused Mikako and helped set up the Kg. Essentially this fic i wrote a while back is basically canon in -2+2 now.)

During this time she stays working at the Kisaragi foundation they give her a room in the facility to live in and she's given an ankle bracelet that tracks where she is, so she's essentially in a house arrest of sorts and can't leave the foundation without a permission from Kinjo and agents to come wherever she's going. Not she leaves at all, she really just focus on messing around in the sim since it's part of her wanting to make up for all the terrible things she did in her life.

No one from the foundation talks much with her (friendly talks, that is) at most some higher up comes to check on her progress, but Hibiki stuck around the foundation for as long as she was working there. It was also during this stay that she met Beni when she was on break and saw her arguing with her dad, from analyzing her unusually intense emotions for a situation like this she can tell there's something off about the kid and steps in to take a closer look at her.

She tells Hikaru he should definitely bring her to child psychologist for a mental health evaluation which leads to Beni being diagnosed with BPD and autism, from there Beni gets curious about Mitsume and wants to ask more about her condition + get to know her in general because "Woah, Mrs.Mitsume is super smart". She's around the foundation most of the time so she starts to go after her in the area she's working on the sim stuff, which annoys Kokoro initially since she's working, so she tells her to wait for her breaks because then she can awnser as many questions as she wants.

So they do just that and start hanging out in the foundation's break room were Kokoro explains more about her conditions and mental illnesses in general, she also ends up telling her about alexithymia and the two bond over neurodivergent experiences. Overtime Kokoro softens up to her more and let's Beni follow her around in the lab she's working on the sim stuff, she let's het know a lot of what she's doing too and they chat a little even ad she's working.

Beni has a pretty messy relationship with her family at this point, she's a kid that barely sees her dad since he's so overworked at the foundation and with her mother being dead ever since the start of the tragedy the only person she had always around her growing up was her older brother, so this lack of a father/mother figure is why she ends up viewing Kokoro as one, or at least the closest to during her childhood. To the point she gets annoyed at her actually family when they suggest ot try to get her to stop being around her, especially since neither Hikaru or Hamato want to explain why they don't want her around Kokoro. (Obviously you should tell a 7 year old about human experimentation and the orchestration of a killing game, but since Beni is a lil kid she doesn't understand why they can't just explain to her why they dislike Mitsume so much)

As for Kokoro, she doesn't necessarily view Beni as her daughter, she more so sees much of her younger self on her which is why she takes a liking for the kid and wants to know how she's doing (and help if she can) because there's a sentiment of "Maybe this one won't turn out as bad as I did." Though by the time she takes notice that Beni sees her as a mother figure she tries to slowly distance herself from her because the idea of being seen as a mother brings her a lot of pain because of knowing what she did in the past to her actually daughter and Kokoro does not think any kid should look up to her out of all people.

This is around the time he's basically done working for the foundation and once Teruya and Rei are awake and being treated by Ando and the rest of the medical team at the Kisaragi foundation +Ai Mikado and the sim are no more, she finally goes to jail, (thought Hibiki did try to change her mind about it). Hibiki visists her prision and Beni does so as well when she's old enough to do that.

Emma and Syobai

-They're both arrested immediately after the Kg ends. He tries to get her to do a prision break with him, hoping that the sliver of luck she still has could help, but Emma refuses since in her mind, what good would that do? Where would she go afterwards?

He still tries to make a break for it and takes Midori as a hostage, but then Emma uses the remainder of her luck to free herself and chase after them to stop him. She gets stabbed by him in the process, but at least things don't escalate to the point Keisuke almost shoots Midori like in canon and Syobai gets sent to a higher security prison. Afterward that's taken as a sign that she really is trying to change because if she wanted to she could have tried to escape and all, so a while after Emma is given a job at the foundation as a way to pay for her sentence and also keep showing that she's no longer a threat. (She's on the same division as Midori, she's meant to keep track of her in a way, that was her idea after all.)

Hibiki

-Whike she's initially brought to be interrogated by Kinjo out of his own paranoid suspicious that she had a hand on Kanade's murders, after that's cleared up she goes on to give her account on the events of the killing game so that Rei's division can document and know exactly what happened there. She spends a good while on that, alongside Yoruko because the intelligence division wanted to compare the facts between the two not-cirminal members to see if they were being truthful + Foundation higher ups found Hibiki's takes to be biased in certain aspects, so a second opinion is always great to have.

While Yoruko leaves shortly after they're done with these interviews Hibiki sticks around the Kisaragi foundation for basically as long as Kokoro was working for them, she's the person Hibiki became the closest with after the events of Ch3 and she stays by her side after the killing game ended as the one (living) person out of their "class" that doesn't hate Kokoro's guts.

While she's there to keep her company and listen to her ranting when things don't go as she planed or just feels terrible after everything she did, there is part of Hibiki that's using Kokoro as a clutch to not move on with her life. The thing is that Hibiki has truly never been on her own, before she was always around Kanade and after she died she was always around Kokoro. But the killing game is over now, everyone else has gone their way already and she knows Kokoro will get locked up sooner rather than later, so she's in a state where she's not sure where to go next or how to do it with nobody by her side.

So her stay around the foundation is half her wanting to support someone who helped her a lot, half her procrastinating on this soul searching she's gotta do. Though in the time she's just fucking around there she meets Ayame and Kizuna's kid and while Akira is not the biggest fan of idols she does know about Melody rhythm and liked a handful of their songs, so with Hibiki there she asks her for some singing lessons, tips and whatever.

Through these informal classes of sorts Hibiki discovered she really likes passing on all she's learned through her years as a singer, so later down the line she becomes Akira's producer/career manager and the two even have a few songs they made together.

Yuki and Yoruko

-These two's fates after the Kg change the least from canon. Yuki still dissapears basically immediately after they leave the sim for the final time and while Yoruko hangs around the foundation for a bit longer than canon, she still ultimately decides to leave and move on with her life instead of getting a job there. Much to Hibiki's dismay since that's another person she had to see go with the knowledge that they probably wouldn't see each other again afterwards.

She tried to get Yoruko to stay by telling her about how Kokoro was trying to bring back Sora too (this was kind of a secret between Kokoro and Hibiki). But since Yoruko doesn't like Mitsume at all anymore she doesn't want to believe in what she's doing or wait around when she could be met with nothing but dissapointment.

[ap-kinda-lit]

You know what they should have done in YuGiOh? You know what would have made a cool antagonist/monster?

This piece of work ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Apep (aka Apophis)

(aka Apophis) was a monstrous snake from Egyptian mythology. It’s not clear, but it seems like Apep has existed for, well, eternity. He was born from either goddess Neith’s saliva or Ra’s umbilical cord (no seriously). He’s just about always a snake (a creature normally respected and even admired in Egyptian lore, but not in this case…) and a big one. I mean, huge. Accounts vary, but he’s been described as reaching 16-120 yards in length (48-360 feet). Either way, he was a unit.

Egyptian mythology is fairly grey when it comes to good and evil, but when it comes to Apep…yeah no, they make it crystal clear that m*therf*cker was evil incarnate and every one feared and hated him. Saying his name alone was cursed, like Voldemort.

And for good reason, because Apep was a damn beast. Even the gods were nervous about him.

He created storms, earthquakes, and eclipses with his roar or just by moving. He could hypnotize people, mortals and gods alike, and he devoured souls, living and dead. The worst part of that, though, was that the souls would not die. Instead, they would be trapped in an endless void of darkness that was basically a hellish limbo. But, most of all, his favorite thing to do was pick fights with the sun god Ra and eat him alive. He would literally swallow the sun whole.

Yeah, that’s what he did. He would come after Ra, the god of the sun and king of the heavens, and they would do battle. Apep’s main goal was always to devour the sun, destroy Ra, and plunge the world into darkness and chaos. Sometimes, he would succeed in swallowing Ra, and it would take all the gods joining forces to free him from the snake’s belly. As a matter of fact, even Set—the literal god of chaos, an Egyptian Loki—would join in. Hell, it’s even said he stabbed Apep with a spear. Seriously. That’s how bad Apep was.

Priests would hold rituals every year to ward off Apep and the rituals consisted of going ham on a picture/sculpture of him. There was even a whole guide called “The Books of Overthrowing Apep”. Apep was essentially invincible, he could not be killed, even by the gods. All they could do was cut him to pieces and cast him into the underworld. But he would always come back sooner or later.

Apep was a bad, bad SOB.

So I’m thinking, how the hell did they not so much as mention him in Yu-Gi-Oh!?

He’s perfect! He’s a primordial kaiju that embodies chaos and eats gods like fruit snacks. Like, screw the Leviathan or Zorc, look at this guy. He makes the Leviathan from the DOMA arc look like a baby. Zorc is darkness incarnate? Bitch, Apep is right there. That job is already taken. Also, keep in mind that Ra was the first pharaoh, the forefather of all pharaohs. About every pharaoh in history was associated with the sun and Ra. Atem/Yami Yugi was destined to encounter Apep at some point.

I seriously wish there was an arc including Apep. Hell, I would sell my kidney to replace the goddamn Waking the Dragons arc with a different arc on Apep (in case you didn’t know, I don’t care for the DOMA arc).

Please tell me I’m not alone on this.

*bonus

Sometimes Ra (or Bastet or Hathor) would transform into a cat to fight Apep and it was shown in hieroglyphs. Here’s one of them.

I just think that’s neat

[didgeriduwu]

Chapters: 2/?

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)

Characters: Scout (Team Fortress 2), Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Medic (Team Fortress 2), Spy (Team Fortress 2), Scout's Mother (Team Fortress 2), Other Character Tags to Be Added

Additional Tags: Trans Scout (Team Fortress 2), Trans Male Scout (Team Fortress 2), Trans Male Character, Tokophobia Warning, Pregnancy, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg, (i guess it depends on your definition), Emotionally Repressed Sniper (Team Fortress 2), oh god just communicate you fucks, Established Relationship, Situationship?, Spy is Scout's Parent (Team Fortress 2), no beta I have no friends, Medic is a cunt i love him, Scout's Ma is the best, Discussion of Abortion, Unplanned Pregnancy, almost forgot that one

Summary: Sniper and Scout's relationship is in limbo, and neither seems to know if or how to fix it. Unexpected news finally forces a change, but whether it'll be for better or for worse is anyone's guess.

-------------------

Three weeks. Jeremy had three weeks before he started to ‘show’; That’s what the doc had said, at least. Well, he’d actually said that most people started to show then. Same thing, right? Jeremy plunged his hands into his hoodie’s front pockets only to pull them out right away; his stomach felt… different already. He thought back to the image of himself in the mirror that morning, shirt rolled up to his armpits and his belly…

Nope! Not thinkin’ bout that. Jeremy yanked his mind back to the problem at hand. He had three weeks before the secret was out. Three weeks to figure out what he was going to do, and then do it. It was as simple as that.

It stopped seeming so simple pretty much immediately.

Jeremy stared down the barrel of Teufort’s only public payphone and tried to work up the nerve to dial his Ma’s number. He’d tried twice before, only to slam the handset back into its cradle before reaching the last digit.

Third time’s the charm.

Jeremy quickly dialed the number and closed his eyes. He waited three rings before his courage failed him. The handset’s swift journey home was interrupted by his Ma’s voice.

“Doyle residence, you’ve got Gracie.”

Jeremy froze with the handset an inch away from its rest.

“Hello-oo, anybody there? You called me, ya know.”

He brought the mouthpiece closer. “Uh, hi Ma.”

“Jeremy! I thought you were one of those Sullivan kids trying to prank me again. Did I tell ya I made ‘em clean your brother’s car top to bottom? That’ll teach ‘em not to throw eggs! Did a real good job of it too, I musta scared the livin’ daylights out of ‘em. Oh! Did ya hear about Mrs. Jenkins? I heard…”

The only person Jeremy had ever met who could out-talk him was his mother. Most of the time, he loved having someone who could keep up. He lived for his Sunday calls, in part because he could have a conversation where he didn’t feel like he was talking to himself most of the time.

Today though, he was too bogged down in dread to keep up. “Ma, I need to talk to ya ‘bout somethin’ important. You gotta promise not to be mad at me, though. Do ya promise not to be mad at me?”

“Should I be mad at you? What did ya do, Jer?” Gracie gave the same long-suffering sigh she always did when one of her boys got into trouble. She never quite managed to hide the affection in it, despite her best efforts. “Do ya need bailin’ out again, cause-”

“Ma, please just promise.”

Gracie must have registered the uncertainty in his voice because her next words were softer. Slower. “I promise. Cross my heart n’ hope to die. What’s goin’ on, hon?”

“I’m uh-” He swallowed. Please don’t be mad at me. “I’m uh… pregnant?”

All Jeremy could hear for a moment was the faint buzzing of the phone line, and then: “Is that a question or a statement, Jer?”

“Wha-?”

Her voice was terrifyingly even. “Are ya telling me or are ya asking me?”

“Oh, uh, telling. The Doc says I’m seven-” Jeremy took a second to do the math. “I guess nine now. Nine weeks along.”

A sigh, then in a sympathetic tone. “Ya must really be feeling it now then, huh hon?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy breathed relief through the word. Suddenly all the complaints he’d been holding on to for the last week spilled out. “I’m so frickin’ sick all the time and I constantly need to pee. Like, constantly, Ma. Every five minutes, at least. And I’m cryin’ over nothin’. Yesterday I almost cried over dropping a bag of chips and… oh god, it's happening again.” He swiped violently at his eyes, trying to stop the tears from escaping down his cheeks. “Why am I so frickin’ stupid?”

“Oh honey, you’re not stupid! You’re just full of weird hormones, and I’d bet ya haven’t slept a full night for a while, huh?” At Jeremy’s hum of assent, she continued. “I was exactly the same with my first. Your brother didn’t make it easy on me! I was so sick the doctor had to put me on these awful pills. And then when he started movin’! That kid would not stay still for a minute! But in the end, I got Robbie out of it, and I wouldn’t trade ‘im for the world. Wouldn’t trade any o’ you kids.”

Silence filled the line for a few seconds. The smile that had grown on Jeremy’s face as she spoke slowly began to fade. The next words from him came in a whisper. “What do I do, Ma?”

“I can’t tell ya that, Jerbear.”

Jeremy sighed. “I thought ya might say that.”

“Listen, you got options now, hon. Ones I didn’t have at your age. I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t love to have another grandbaby runnin’ around, but what I want more is for my baby boy to be happy. Ya got that?”

Jeremy swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Good. Don’t let that fella of yours tell ya what to do about this either, alright? It’s your body.”

That was a can of worms Jeremy refused to even touch right now. “I won’t, Ma.”

“Attaboy. Now, I gotta go pick up your nephew. Lil’ Sammy’s on the honour roll, did I tell ya that? Anyway, I promised we’d go get ice cream today to celebrate. Do ya wanna call me back in like an hour?”

Jeremy felt a stab of homesickness and… something else. Something he didn’t want to think about too much. “That’s okay, Ma. I’m pretty tired. Give Sam an extra scoop for me, okay?”

Gracie gave a laugh that wasn’t too dissimilar to her youngest son’s. “Your brother might kill ya for that. He’s gotta get that kid to sleep tonight.”

“Pfft. He can try but ya know he’ll never catch me.” Jeremy gave a watery grin and a laugh that surprised him. “Besides, he can’t kill a pregnant guy. There are laws against that kinda stuff!”

“There’s my Jer!” He heard his Ma smiling through the phone. “Remember hon, whatever happens you can always come home.”

“You’re really not mad at me, then?” The words slipped from his throat before he could stop them.

“Well, I’m not gonna disown ya or anythin’ if that’s what you’re worried about.” Gracie paused for a moment. “Ya know, I always thought I would be mad, but right now I just wish I could give ya a hug. Besides, I bet you’re probably mad enough for the both of us.”

“Yeah, I could really do with a hug right now.” Jeremy felt a pang of loneliness, even as some of the burden he’d been carrying fell from his shoulders. “Thank you, Ma. You’re the best. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jer. Always.”

…

What he was doing was wrong - even Spy knew that - but it had been weeks of this absurdité. Spy had spotted Scout dart off in the middle of battle to expel the contents of his stomach too many times. He’d watched the bags under the runner’s eyes grow darker day by day. Merde, he’d even noticed a case of Bonk! left undisturbed for days in the Mess’s fridge.

Non. It was no use speculating. There was something wrong with his son, and Spy had to find out what it was. So he waited. He bided his time for the perfect moment to strike and when he spotted Jeremy heading toward town on a Sunday afternoon, Spy didn’t hesitate; He flicked open his Spytron and slipped into the guise of his son.

Thin light shone weakly through the infirmary doors’ circular windows, signaling the doctor was in. Spy had never managed to shake the feeling that they were two monstrous eyes peering at him, as foolish as that notion was. He hated this place, but he’d seen Scout headed here more times in the past week than he had in all of the previous years combined, and Spy knew that this was the best place to find answers.

Medic only looked up briefly when he entered, flicking his eyes back to whatever gory experiment he was working on. “Ah, Herr Scout! I do hope zhis time you have made a decision, ja?” The German seemed annoyed, voice dripping with especially false cheer.

Spy jumped up on the examination table in one swift motion, ignoring the twinge of pain in his knees that told him he wasn’t so young anymore. “Uh not yet, Doc. I dunno what ta choose. Could we go ovah da options again?”

Medic looked at him then, eyes narrowing as he pushed his glasses further up his nose. A sigh escaped him. “One moment, Herr Scout.”

Spy watched as the German wandered over to rifle through a cabinet. “Now where did I leave it? Not zhere. Nein..” He worked his way through three drawers before finally: “Ah-ha! Zhere it is.”

“What’s dat you got- AH!” Spy howled at the wickedly large needle that had quite suddenly become one with the palm of his hand. “C’est quoi ce bordel?” [What the fuck! Literally: What is this mess? Even more literally: What is this brothel?] Spy looked up to see the business end of a crossbow aimed at his head.

“RED or BLU?” Medic demanded.

“Quoi-”

“RED or BLU? I suppose I vould find out if I killed you right now, but zen I’d have to leave my lab to find out vhy you are here. I’m a busy man, Herr Spy, so just spit it out.”

Slowly, Spy used his good hand to retrieve the disguise kit from his pocket. “BLU.” He said, as the image of Scout dissolved into smoke around him. “I am on your team, see?”

Medic sniffed. “I have never been entirely convinced of zhat.” He lowered his crossbow, nonetheless. “I assume you are here about Herr Scout?”

Spy considered lying, but the glint in the good doctor’s eye told him it would be fruitless. “Oui.”

“Wunderbar! I’ve prepared a brief for you.” Medic flung a manilla folder into the Frenchman’s lap. Spy scrambled to keep it from sliding off.

“You were expecting me?”

“Of course! I had assumed you vould be here much earlier, to be honest.” Medic turned his attention to the syringe still lodged in Spy’s palm. In one swift motion, he tore it out.

Spy’s accompanying cry was in anger as well as pain. “Why the fuck did you stab me then?”

“Zhat vas just for fun! No dangerous untested pharmaceuticals here!” His gleeful chuckle was far from reassuring. “Now, out! I’m busy! Raus! Raus!”

Spy didn’t question that as he slid off the examination table. He’d worked in intelligence long enough to know when it was better not to know. There was one thing, however, he couldn’t help but ask.

Smoke engulfed him for a moment, before the visage of Scout once again replaced his own. With that uncouth Boston twist, Spy asked: “Outta interest, Doc, what gave me away?”

“Oh zhat?” Medic let out a terrifying giggle, eyes on the place where the Bostonian’s usual red t-shirt was tucked into the waist of his baseball knickers. “Your image of him is out of date. Did you not zhink Herr Scout has put on a little… veight, recently?”

[sergeifyodorov]

Sometimes I just think about how insanely different the lives of all the 2015 draft class players are now and it makes me feel ridiculous. Like, Mitch is a hometown kid on the leafs and they either love him or hate him at all times, he’s doing good personally, is getting married, but professionally he’s in so much limbo. Connor is the most talented player in the world according to most people but he cannot win and the weight of the world is on his shoulders and he’s in a big black and white house in Edmonton. Jack was pretty much held hostage by the team that never wanted him, his bodily autonomy completely denied, and then he finally gets traded to the nhl villain team and he beats the guy who was always better than him. And Dylan isn’t exceptional as a player, he’s decent on an aging team full of dads and he has a wife and a daughter and another on the way and he just seems happy. I wonder if they ever think about each other.

I KNOW RIGHT like each of their stories has just gotten so much More interesting over the course of the past ... coming up on eight years now. Hockey is a fantastic soap opera, you know? The story just keeps on going.

And the crazy part is we're not even halfway through. A hockey player with a shelf life -- Mitch and Connor both seem pretty durable, and Jack seems a lot healthier now after his neck trouble has been resolved -- can last fifteen, twenty years if they're lucky. Who knows where the story will go from here? Dylan's contract extends further into the future than any other Capital -- he'll be a UFA in the summer of 2028, which ironically gives him more job security than any of the other three in the class. Good, for a boy who just wanted to be wanted somewhere. I wonder what the Capitals will look like after Ovi's done. (Assuming Ovi ever retires, although I have a sneaking suspicion he and Sid will go out in the same summer. They have always been entwined, after all.)

I desperately want to know if we'll see any of them on any other teams, too! Hockey is unlike a lot of other sports in that its biggest and brightest superstars tend to stay as put as possible: of what I consider to be the six "generational talents," (Howe, Gretzky, Lemieux, Crosby, Ovechkin, McDavid)(IF U HAVE OPINIONS ON THIS SEND THEM TO MEEEEE), only one of them so far has played for more than one NHL team (Howe era Whalers don't count!!!). Mitch isn't generational by any means, but he's far and away enough of a superstar to go just about anywhere he wants, which for my own feeble sanity I beg means #leafsforever. I just hope if they go anywhere else then they keep to the colour scheme! Dylan's three teams have all been red and Jack's have both been yellow/gold. If Connor McDavid becomes a Dallas Star it'll mess with the damn symbolism (plus his TA of mathematics ass could never match the vibe that silly little group of rapscallions has).

And... the eternal question: the Cup. Eichs is obviously still in the hunt right now, but i do dearly want to know who of the four of them wins it and when. Fun fact: both Dylan's and Jack's only playoff appearances to date have involved eliminating Connor. Mitch actually made the playoffs first out of all four of them, but by one measly game Connor has more wins.

In summary: Urgrghghuhuhsgdhkgjhfdghhfgkdjfhjkd the lore... the drama... etc etc

[vronism]

Violent “I’ve had enough” vent under the cut because I feel like an absolute crap today and after getting a denial letter from a non-profit that could sponsor my attendance at GDC in the US I just feel like pitying myself for a moment.

I have been in game dev since I’ve been 20. I’ve started as a QA, thinking it’s gonna be just for a moment, but it wasn’t. I’m still a fucking QA.

I worked on big projects, and I love, love working on aaa titles. I do. I love this industry with my whole heart, and I feel I have more to offer than it wants to take from me, and it’s just awful. I work on an indie project on the side, but my “big fish” work takes most of my time. I stay overtime out of my free will. I did weekends and nights in my previous company out of my own free will. I have no respect for my personal time, because I love this shit so much. But it’s not enough, it’s never enough, and it’s not “babies first encounter with capitalism” either, because I know how it works, I have been mobbed, I have been laid off. And yet I keep coming back.

QA gets paid the least. You do the job of a tester, personal helper to the team you’re assigned to, pre-reviewer, even some minor production work, but you get paid the least, and you are always get looked down upon, because it’s “just” qa, the lowest of the low entry points to game dev. I’m highly specialized. I do one field, or should do one field only, which is character art, but because there’s a shit ton of work and not enough people experienced enough (? Where did the entry point job go, huh?) I do narrative now as well. And VFX quality while I’m at it. And rigging, too. And I don’t mind. I love it.

I do mind though I cannot develop where I would like to. I cannot do art, I cannot do anything creative, I’m just stuck looking at other peoples work. I work on my own project after work, some people from work help me, too, after work, but it’s not much, I know it won’t change anything.

There are programs to help. Of course they are. One is for girls in highschool, so a decade younger than me, and when I was their age, it didn’t exist. As a QA I have no chance of speaking on events; nobody cares what I have to say, and I don’t feel like an authority with something worthy to say in the qa department. I do my job and I do it good, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck about it.

And nobody would listen to a stupid QA speaking on art or character building. I have no authority there either, and absolutely zero credentials.

It feels like a fucking inescapable limbo. I don’t get grants or outside help, because I put my all into my day qa job and I barely have time to work on creative projects, additionally I’m bound by depression and audhd so bad that I just dissociate and stop existing for stretches of time. I live in a small town, with no car, so getting to some drawing lessons in the bigger city is barely possible, especially that they cut off public transport.

I feel like my art sucks. It’s on lower level than it should be by now. I feel like I’m too old for the industry already, I have no chances of changing anything, and I’m left to fend for myself by the only non-profits that could help.

The luckiest thing in my life right now is that my company kept me for a year now and is not planning layoffs anytime soon. But that’s it.

It’s awful. I feel like shit, I just wanna do more, but I’m never given a chance to. It’s demotivating, I’m from a shit country with bad art schools, bad perspectives, and no help. I’m completely invisible to everybody.

I don’t have great thoughts right now.

[turtlethon]

Hi there!! I’m such a big fan of your reviews, you did a great job with them!! 😄

My biggest questions would be;

Who’s your favorite turtle? And if you had to choose just five episodes from the series, which ones would be your all time favorites? 😁

Thank you!! Have a great day!!

Thank you so much for the kind words! For the record, I'm Team Donnie, always a big fan of the inventor/scientist archetype. (Also my favourite colour is purple, so he gets an extra point right there.)

I feel like when it comes to picking the top five episodes the natural inclination is just to pick the first five, and with good reason; nothing that came after S1 had as much time, care or money afforded to it. So just to make things interesting, I'm going to set everything from season one aside and pick five more episodes that I think also deserve to be celebrated.

5. THE DIMENSION X STORY

The Turtles having to fight their way into the Technodrome (and back out again) somehow never fully lost its allure. This one and "Shredder's Mom" both rank highly in my estimation, and while this is the less visually impressive of the two I think it wins out for how willing it is to mix things up, sending the Channel 6 regulars to Dimension X while two of the Turtles remain behind. Wild, far flung adventures that tap into the more sci-fi aspects of TMNT, and the cherry on top is that this is easily Vernon's best episode - it turns out he's more interesting as April's rival when he's doing well and she has to work to regain the upper hand.

4. THE NINJA SWORD OF NOWHERE

This one gets few points for innovation - Shredder and his crew jostling with the Turtles for control of some ancient magical artifact or high-tech invention is standard stuff for season three, and in this case, it's a dimension-hopping ninja sword. But rarely, if ever, has it been done this well. Splinter and Shredder battling in dimensional limbo is great, and the animation team handling this one really went above and beyond. Ninja Sword of Nowhere almost feels like it should have been held up as a textbook example of what a Turtles episode circa 1989/90 should be, a reference point that could be shown to writers or animators for what the show should be trying to acheive.

3. SPLINTER VANISHES

The intended 100th episode, even if it didn't turn out that way, and one that I remember feeling like a big deal while watching it as a kid that still held up upon revisiting it as an adult. I always know it's a really good ep when writing the entry for it takes hours as I agonise over it, trying to make sure I articulate everything I want to get across to the best of my ability, and I remember dwelling on this one for a looong time, thinking about how the story compels the Turtles - and us - to consider what happens when the adventures end, when it's time to grow up and move on. Probably the most emotionally resonant episode of TMNT '87, and even though Splinter does not come across well by the end of it, the journeys we go on with each of the Turtles as they explore their post-hero lives easily outweigh that. The fact that "Splinter Vanishes" accomplishes all of this and is a non-Shredder episode - when let's face it, they're more often than not filler shows - makes it all the more remarkable.

2. SHREDDER TRIUMPHANT!

I have mixed feelings about the show continuing into the Red Sky era because this episode, the season seven finale, felt like it had brought TMNT '87 to its natural end point. I love how it plays upon the sense that the Turtles (and the viewers) have that they've seen and done this all a million times before, and it quickly becomes apparent that this time things are different, that finally Shredder and Krang are competent and have learned from all their previous losses, setting the stage for one final showdown. All the main characters - the Turtles, Splinter, the Technodrome regulars and the Channel 6 crew - get their chance to shine and show how they've grown over the course of the show's run. A milestone episode for sure.

1. TURTLES ON TRIAL

I think for me this is still The One, the single episode outside of the first season that I'd consider peak TMNT. It's also the first episode I remember seeing on TV, which I think set me up to have entirely unrealistic expectations about how good Turtles would be; fortunately the rest of the run was still a good time even if we never quite got here again.

I like to see my heroes really have to go through the wringer, to have everything thrown at them and somehow just about make it out victorious, and so the environment we see the Turtles forced to contend with here, a city full of people who have been conditioned to be actively hostile towards them, while they're also dealing with the usual Shredder/Krang stuff, makes for compelling television. Yes, Clayton Kellerman and "On Trial" are a perfect encapsuation of the media landscape at the time - which still feels relevant today - but on top of that this is a gorgeous episode with some terrific battles between the Turtles and Shredder's bunch. It's simply the bee's knees. (Or should that be the turtle's knees?)

[mrbingley]

exorcising these feelings blaaaahh:

tired of being in my loser era!!!! so tired of being stuck in dead end hrly wage underpaid jobs (even tho the one i currently have i love! but the hrs they give me arent enough to live on!). so tired of both my siblings and all of my close "irl" friends having salaried, "grown up" jobs that make me feel so so so so ashamed of where im at in comparison. im tired of skipping meals to make ends meet! im tired of not being able to buy myself little gifts. and seeing the occasional buying of two meals a day as a tremendous indulgence. i'm tired of applying to jobs trying to find something that pays well (i have lost count of how many jobs i've applied to in the last six months) and only having done approx six interviews in total despite applying to so so so many positions (some that are as equally poor pay and im more than qualified for). i feel like i am stuck in hell! i am so tired of losing! im turning 30 this yr and no well paying jobs want anything to do with me even if my experience fits the position. even when i do get the very rare interview and seemingly do well, im still never the one chosen! and i am! so tired! of it! i cant keep doing this. i will likely only be living in arizona for a yr. i wanted to spend that yr getting to meet beloved online friends on the west coast!!!!!!!! but im too sad and poor to do that! i wanted to buy cool tattoos from tattoo artists here that do great stuff but im too poor to do that! i wanted to visit mexico and disneyland while im over here but, once more, i am too poor to do that! being poor is so exhausting!!!!!! being stuck in low paying hrly jobs is exhausting! i cant escape it! no matter how hard i try! i've been trying for six months! i've been trying so hard! my real best! and it's gotten me nothing! that is a harrowing, drowning feeling! that my best attempt isn't enough to get me into a job/life i want! i am so tired of the financial stress of living! i applied to grad school programs for poetry again last yr but got rejected by all but one, and even that was just a waitlist. they told me it was likely i'd get in but then i didn't and they sent a personalized sorry you didn't make the cut email. and it was like that with this latest job interview (the first company that i've ever interviewed for a salaried position). they seemed to like me and said my interview was fantastic but then chose someone else and then told me to interview for a diff open position that my resume fits better so i did and then they didn't hire me for that one either! i'm always always always at my very best just slightly not good enough. it is never ever a yes for me. it's never "you're good you're the one we want you". and that is such a heavy thing to internalize. i wanted to apply to fiction creative writing mfa programs this yr just to say i tried but i've been avoiding finishing my writing sample b/c i don't know if i can handle anymore rejection. people always say waiting to hear back about interviews or grad school applications or etc is the most anxiety inducing part of the process. it's my favorite part. because it's that limbo period where i can pretend that the answer might be a "yes".

[hamsamwich23]

Well hello there!

Howdy! My name is Sam and/or Mort.

I'm a 20 year old queer-asexual demiboy who uses he/they/it/xe pronouns. I am polyamorous and have one partner whom I love dearly💛

My main hobbies right now are creative writing and photography, but I also enjoy video games, roleplaying, cooking/baking, and reading in my spare time.

My bigger interests right now are Hello Puppets, 1nv&d³r Z¹m, Doki Doki Literature Club, Undertale/Deltarune, Cats Are Liquid, Regretavator (Roblox) and Cult Of The Lamb.

Video game interests (or games I Enjoy): Milk Inside/Outside A Bag Of Milk, Sucker for love! Games series, smile for me, Amanda The Adventurer, Undertale Yellow, Happy game, Night In The Woods, Limbo, Inside, *Omori*, The Dog Island, Minecraft, Needy Streamer Overload, *Bendy and the ink machine*, Yo-Kai Watch (1st and 2nd games), Hollow Knight, Okami, Backrooms games, Sonic Frontiers, I'm On Observation Duty, Among Us.

Show/series interests: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, Adventure Time, Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood (just started), Tuca and Bertie, Nexo Knights, Ninjago, The Mandela Catalogue, Angel Hare

Music interests: GHOST/GHOST and pals, Lily Vane, RIProducer, Jack Stauber, Vocaloid, Peculiar audios, Penelope Scott

Misc interests/just stuff I like: Welcome Home project, Liminal Space, Moths, Space, The Backrooms lore, SCP Foundation lore, stickers, plushies,

*- I do not support the creator(s) behind these. And if anyone behind above listed interests has done something that I am unaware of then feel free to inform me.

I dabble in Self-shipping sometimes...I'm perfectly fine with sharing f/o's just don't be. Like. Weird or nasty about it? Like be chill be respectful and we're all good

My DMS are always open to mutuals who want to talk, or anyone who's interested in my AUS or wants to talk about mutual interests, however please note that I have physical and mental health issues as well as work a full time job and am not always active or able to respond. I just appreciate any patience when it comes to talking to me.

My Two current main AUS at this moment are:

Unreality Au: A multi-fandom AU inspired by weirdcore and horror themes where the world has been overtaken by a unknown curse caused by dark magic. OCs and Characters from Hello Puppets, Doki Doki Literature Club, Undertale (somewhat), Fetch from mf Fazbear frights, maybe Regretavator dashed in and Hatsune Miku (because come on its Hatsune Miku!!! We can't NOT invite her to the multifandom au).

This story so far is planned to be told through one shots and short fanfiction. Not every fandom listed here is part of official lore but is implied to exist in the same universe for my own little fun

If interested, you can follow my blog: @unreality-au-content-hoard

Dimension 2020 AU: Revamped I/Z au featuring my Z¹msona/OC Twenty rewritten (as when I was younger the au was poorly written/executed). The new summary of this story is as follows:

"After being lost and found as a mere smeet, Twenty is finally able to move past the incident from years ago and live a normal life among other young irkens within the academy. Everything is going very well...until one day..... everything begins to go wrong."

While I will post links to the official fanfiction when it is started as well as updates on Instagram, I will not be posting anything about it on Tumblr for my own comfort.

Aside from these projects, Writing commissions and trades are CLOSED for an indefinite amount of time, as I am too busy to fulfill any more work. However, requests for Unreality one shots or suggestions are usually open.

DNI

While I am fully aware that people will most likely ignore my DNI boundaries, I am still going to put them out here that I will just block you if I see anyone in my DNI interacting with me. I may even end up blocking people out of paranoia or due to compulsions. I very much utilize the block button.

You will be blocked if you are- bigoted in any way/shape/form, pr0sh¹p/c∅msh¹p/similar, ship discourse focused blog, LGBTQ+ discourse focused blog, Rad-exclusive, a pro-harassment antishipper, people against self-shipping and/or OC x Canon, support use of AI art and AI content, support creators like Viziepop and JKrowling (or anyone I'm uncomfortable with), people who believe "black washing" is a thing and/or defend whitewashing, L∅l¹/sh∅t& con supporters/enjoyers, people who call themselves "M.A.Ps" (pedos. You're pedophiles), and anything similar to what is mentioned above

Though technically, even if you are none of the above, I still end up blocking people out of paranoia or if they give me bad vibes. I understand that it is irrational, however it is for my comfort and mental health.

Kink/NSFW blogs are okay to interact, but if you're pr/ship or make fetish art of minors/siblings/ect then uhhhh get lost

Please do NOT talk to me about Ship Discourse or LGBTQ+ Discourse I literally just want to chill here

Tags

Tags I would recommend blocking if they make you uncomfortable are:

woah sam that's REALLY gay - suggestive tag for future just in case(?) I doubt it'll ever be used but it doesn't hurt to have a warning

morts sad time - vent tag

If you're interested in my works or talking outside my Tumblr, my socials are below!

Discord: hamsamwich23

Instagram: hamsamwich23

Wattpad: hamsamwich23

SquidgeWorld: hamsamwich23

And most importantly...

This blog stands with the people of Palestine, Congo, Sudan, and the many other countries that are suffering and struggling right now. Below me is a post linking to resources to help these countries and more.

This master document was originally created by Seaweedlagoon on Twitter/"X" and reposted on Tumblr by user eggyolkperona3000

Thank you for reading!!

[c4ndyy-apple]

Pizza Date

Summary: Gruvia pizza date. That’s all! 

Also on: 

AO3 & FFN

He’s so pretty. 

Juvia idly stared at Gray while they were watching their current show together. Recently, Gray had ever-so-smoothly gotten into the habit of getting Juvia to come to his apartment for dinner most evenings after hanging out at the guild. 

They spent almost every waking moment together, until one of them went on a job or Gray said he would walk her home after they were done hanging out. She knew she just had to continue being patient and he would work up the nerve to actually say anything to her about his actions. 

For now, they were in a limbo of knowing each other's feelings and neither of them really doing much about it. 

Juvia’s attitude hadn’t changed, other than being more patient with Gray in moments like this. While Gray’s attitude was slowly evolving. He was treating Juvia like a boyfriend would - walking her home, taking her out for food, watching shows together, dancing exclusively together at events. The list could go on really. 

Juvia knew if she pushed him too far, all this lovely progress would be lost. So, she stayed as calm as she could when he asked her what she felt like eating that night when they were sitting together at the guild earlier that day. 

Simply stating she was a little tired and felt like a pizza takeout. Although her voice didn’t shake, her face was almost glowing red at that moment she was sure of it. 

They were currently relaxing on either end of his couch, as they usually do. With Gray focusing a little too hard on the show, and Juvia trying to watch the show but inevitably getting distracted. 

His shirt had been thrown off hours ago, Juvia was nearly 100% sure that he had left it at the guild this time. His black sweatpants were low on his hips as he slouched with his feet resting on his coffee table. 

It took all of Juvia’s strength to not jump into his lap and wrap her arms around him when he looked like that. He was being everything but physically attentive in recent weeks, which just made her want him that much more. 

As her finger twitched in consideration, just to lean over and touch his arm, his doorbell rang, making both of them jump and look at the wooden door to his living room. 

“Guess our pizza’s here. Do you mind getting plates?” Gray spoke smoothly, looking at her with his usual calm demeanour. Totally oblivious to the battle in her mind. 

“Yeah,” she managed to huff out and scurried towards his kitchen as he made his way to the front door. 

She quickly reached for two plates and placed them on the countertop in front of her. She fanned a hand before her face, trying to cool down and get rid of her impulsive thoughts so that she could try to enjoy the rest of her evening with Gray. 

“Alright, here we go.” Gray swerved into his kitchen with a large pizza box and various small boxes on top. “I hope you don’t mind a regular stuffed crust, they said they ran out of that garlic cheese stuff that you like.” 

He remembered my favourite cheese?! 

“I also ordered some cookies for us to have afterwards. I know you’re a huge sweet tooth and they’re also so good from this place too. You’d really like the-”

Juvia cut off his words by storming up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his face down to kiss him directly on the lips. 

He, first of all, made a confused step back which she mimicked by stepping forward, refusing to let him go. After a beat, he wrapped one hand around her waist and placed the other on the back of her neck. He kissed her back just as hard as she initiated. The force of his affection brought her back to the counter where he had placed the pizza. 

She let out a small moan as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. At the noise he grabbed her impossibly closer, his fingers grabbing her hair to tilt her head to his desired angle. 

Her arms detangle from around his neck to grab at his face, neck, hair, wherever she could reach during this mindless makeout session. 

Gray allowed her to touch him wherever she pleased in those moments, without hesitating she skimmed one hand down to the waistband of his sweats to pull their hips together, making him groan deeply into her mouth. 

This was officially the best day of her life. He was actually kissing her back! 

She pulled back suddenly when she realised what she had done. Staring up at him total shock, only to him staring down at her while heavy breathing. She blinked twice before looking down at their tangled arms. He still had one hand in her hair, while the other was so low on her back, he may as well take a handful of her ass while he was at it. 

“Well, that was overdue.” Gray breathed out, making Juvia look up at him again. A soft smile graced his face before he leaned his forehead on hers. “Sorry that you had to make the first move. I was really trying to find an opening without making it seem like I was only inviting you over to.. Well, you know.” 

“Juvia would be fine if you wanted to invite her over for that,” she smiled shyly up at him before removing her grip from his waistband to rest her hand on his chest. 

Gray chuckled at her statement. 

“Yeah, I know.” He muttered. “But I have more respect for you than to take advantage of that fact.” 

He kissed her softly on the cheek before burying his head in her neck. Juvia let out a breath before leaning her head against his and holding him just as tight as he was her. 

She was completely lost in the moment they were sharing. Thinking about how warm his body felt against hers, how surprisingly soft his hair was, and how his breath gave a slight tickle on her neck. 

While lost in her imagination, she heard a deep rumble come from between them and then a laugh burst from Gray. 

“Oh, I guess we forgot about the food!” He leaned back from her with a glowing smile on his face. “Come on, let’s eat.” 

He slowly let go of her and reached for a couple of slices of pizza to load onto his chosen plate. Juvia, now on auto-pilot, silently followed suit by arranging her own plate and then back to the couch. 

Without thinking, Juvia sat in her usual spot on the couch and rested her plate food on her lap. What surprised her was Gray taking the spot directly beside her to eat together, casually raising his closest arm to wrap around her shoulders while he used his free hand to eat his own pizza. 

Why is he acting like this is normal behaviour for him? 

She tried to keep up with the light commentary he was making on whatever show they were watching, even making some comments herself, although she had totally lost track of the name and plot by now. 

When her plate was empty, Juvia leaned over to rest her plate against the table. Gray quickly followed suit with his own.  

On his way leaning back, he used his free hand to lift Juvia's legs to rest over his own as he leaned in to kiss her again. 

Out of shock, Juvia leaned away and blinked at him which caused him to pause.

“You good?” She felt his thumb rub over her thigh as he spoke. “Juvia?” 

“What’s going on?” Juvia managed to stutter out. 

“Well, I was hoping we could make out on the couch right about now.” Gray said with a slight blush. “But no rush if you’re not ready!” 

He was about to lean back when Juvia grabbed him back. 

“No!” She yelled “I just- I really like this affectionate side of you. It’s really sweet.” 

“Ahh, sorry. I guess now that the ice is broken I was getting carried away.” Gray looked at her dead in the eye and tilted his head to the side. “But isn’t this how guys are supposed to treat their girlfriends?”

Juvia squeaked and covered her mouth with her finger tips. 

“Girlfriends?!” Her voice was muffled by her fingers and she looked at Gray with huge eyes.

“Well, yeah? I thought we were on the same page about that for a while now.” Gray looked more confused than Juvia looked surprised. 

“Wait, don’t tell me I forgot to ask you!” Gray, now looking back at Juvia with equally wide eyes, shot back and put his head in his hands. “Oh no, I really thought I asked ages ago. I had a whole plan and everything when we went to that butterfly exhibit.” 

Watching Gray be the one to freak out over the nature of their connection for the first time, made Juvia relax and even giggle a little. Which made him look at her with absolute devastation. 

“You know, you don’t really need to ask me. It’s not as if my answer is a secret.” Juvia smiled kindly and sat up straight on the couch. 

“Yeah, that’s true.” Gray smiled at her and grabbed both of her hands. “You deserve to be asked though.” 

“No.” Juvia shook her head. “I deserve you.”

[prayerforlovingsorrow]

Random sniperspy drabble i wrote wouaah

Spy was… well. He was a solitary person at heart. Secretive, reticent, unforthcoming. All of those and more. If you've talked to Spy, at least the real Spy, you would also learn he was quite bad at talking.

When it came to being other people, he could regurgitate the things that his victims wanted to hear. He could seduce any man or woman he needed to. Spy could talk to people just fine if it were someone else talking out of his body. But when his normal-brain took over… it was a mess.

Spy, more or less, was a bit of a mess.

That was fine. No one knew who Spy even was, no one would see that mess. It was all under the guise of a refined gentleman, an egotistical womanizing Frenchman, a perfect man. Life goes on, and Spy never lets a soul get close. In fact, he was sitting alone in his smoking room today. As far away as he could get from his coworkers. As far away as he could get from speaking. From being himself.

He wasn't much of a person anyways. He was more like… a marionette doll. A puppet. A blank slate, a faceless doll to project anything onto- it came free with his job. He opened his disguise kit, lighting a cigarette. He needed one if he really wanted to go down this train of thought. Closing his eyes, Spy retreated into his mind. Into that maze of thoughts, a limbo of emotions.

All his disguises, a museum of names and faces flashed behind his eyes. From Jacques to Roman to Elle, men and women he's pretended to be, all false, were like paintings upon a wall in which he based who he was off of. Spy didn't even have a name, at least anymore. He was just a Spy. It was sad in a sense, despite all these people that would fall to his feet in an instant, none of them knew Spy. The museum of Spy was crowded and flooded by infinite faces and identities. Entire lives liven, only to be abandoned and never touched. He felt sick, trying to erase those identities from his mind. As if the world itself was spiting him with images of ex lovers and ex identities. families and -

Memories this time flashed behind his eyes. Instead of portrait paintings, they were scenes. Scenes of things he's done with people who swore up and down that they knew him. Dancing with an ex lover he was to assassinate a month later. Singing to a child he was temporarily the step-father of, only to walk out. Playing baseball with Scout of all people, only for him to leave a few weeks later. It was sickening, those memories that he worked so hard to hide and forget yet always tipped over the metaphorical cup of secrets he hid.

All these paintings, faces, memories, people who he loved, people who he killed, surrounded the identity known as Spy, and yet, no matter how hard he tried, he would never be kno-

His spiral of thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Hey Spook." Ah, the bushman. Silence fell between them for a second before Sniper spoke up. "Are you up for tonight?"

Ah, tonight. Spy completely forgot about their little agreement, one of physical matters. His mind was far too deep to be up for anything, pun intended. "No."

He heard a slight chuckle. "Aight. Ain't no problem. You doin' okay?"

It was Spy's turn to chuckle. "No."

"Do you wanna talk?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Spy snorted. "Just because we fuck doesn't mean that you're obligated to my feelings, bushman." That cold exterior responded, the voice he heard a stranger to Spy.

"I was just offerin', like a good person would." Sniper retorted, most likely offended as just yesterday they shared a meal together while talking about Sniper's life. That was too close. Too romantic. Spy needed to distance himself or he'd hurt Sniper.

A few more seconds of silence.

"Damn, spook. Goodnight then."

"Night, Sniper."

How deeply Spy wanted to connect, how he wanted to tell Sniper his life. His faces. His memories. Who he was, who he is. And yet, how unable he's to share anything about himself. He would not let the Sniper's portrait hang on the wall of failed ex lovers.

Looking at the mirror across the room, Spy wanted to vomit. That pale imitation of a person staring back made him want to hurl, yet all he did was smoke more.

[Epilogue:

"My apologies for snapping at you last night. I had a rough day."

"It's fine." Sniper lied. Spy could tell it was very much not fine.

"Let me make it up to you?"

"Okay."

"Okay.

They were fine. They'd be fine.]

[school-sanctioned-movie-bullying]

Since the new live action Avatar is apparently out on netflix, I figured now is an excellent time to remember the last attempt at a live action this series got.

Avatar: The Last Airbender is one of the most beloved TV shows of all time, with amazing writing, world-building, and characters. Conversely, The Last Airbender (no avatar in this title) is one of the most detested and worst movies of all time. I doubt that I have anything new to say about it because it has been getting dragged since it was released 14 years ago, but that won't stop me from dragging it some more.

As is the trend with many live action reboots, this movie hates fun. The original show was colorful, funny, and charming; the movie is none of those things. The color palette seems to have been taken directly from a Saw movie, with not a warm tone to be found. For comparisons sake, here's a side by side of the gaang from the movie and from the original:

Isn't it incredible how they managed to sap all the color out of the original character designs?

One of my favorite things about the original cartoon was the expressive animation. I don't expect a live action movie to have expressive animation, but I do expect expressive acting, or even just regular acting. Unfortunately for myself and the world at large, the main actors did not get the memo that they were supposed to do that, so instead they delivered their dialogue stone faced with weird pacing. I don't want to hate on the actors too much, as many of them were children when this movie was released, and who knows what sort of direction M. Night Shyamalan gave them. However, I will say that with maybe the exception of Dev Patel, who played an okay Zuko, the cast did an awful job of capturing the magic of the original characters. I am willing to give a pass to Seychelle Gabriel, because she voiced Asami in The Legend of Korra, and I am nothing if not an Asami supporter. But the rest of the cast is on very thin ice. 

Another fun thing about this god-forsaken movie is the way it manages to make the viewer feel incredibly uncomfortable. It has an aura about it that I can only describe as constipated. The feeling I got watching is reminiscent of the time I was roped into listening a coworker at McDonalds talk about his crypto scheme, except that only lasted about 15 minutes, and the movie is 103 minutes long.

Truly the only good quality of the movie is its ability to bring together so many people in hatred. There aren’t too many things we can all form a near-universal opinion on, but we can all agree that this movie is a dumpster fire. 

Unlike some of the other movies I have hated on this blog, I don’t think it is controversial for me to hate this one. It has already been so thoroughly hated on that all the points I make here are hardly likely to be original. Regardless, I felt it necessary to kick this dead horse, both for the opportunity to complain (one of my favorite activities), and because I need to choose one movie to hate per week for the class this blog is for, and this one is so so hateable. I didn't even list everything wrong with it and this post is already so long.

I haven't watched the new live action show yet, and I don't really have high hopes, but given how low the bar is, it would have to limbo into hell to disappoint me.