#the fit im going crazy

[wulfhalls]

ANYA!!!!!!!!!!!! HOEMYGODDDDDDDD

[chloesimaginationthings]

PHONE GUY DESIGN IM LITERALLY SCREAMONG RBEUBQHGWVS

IM GLAD YALL LIKE HOW PHONE GUY LOOKS!! I didn’t expect so many to be down bad for him-

[moldycigarette]

warnings: 🪦🕊️ DNE, angst, implied assault towards reader, use of y/n, afab, protective simon, talk of torture, talk of blood, fluff at the end, i’m sincerely sorry

—————

being married to simon has both perks and downsides. don’t get me wrong, simon is the exact opposite of “ghost” when he’s not at work and makes sure it stays that way, especially around you. he’s nurturing, funny, kind, loving, loyal, and puts you before himself even when you tell him not to.

sure, he can be a stubborn bastard sometimes but he knows how to make it up to you.

in the beginning of your relationship, it was difficult for him to open up, and understandably so given his past. he was cold and distant, sometimes to the point where you questioned if he even wanted to be with you. however, he made up for it. he became more relaxed with you, starting to accept more than just the occasional kiss on the cheek. he was hopelessly devoted to you and proved that to you every day, even if he wasn’t home. whether it was sending you cute texts or small gifts, you knew it was going to be okay as long as you had him.

so, as a loving wife expecting her husband to come home after months in dangerous situations, you expect simon to come home and greet you like he always does; soft kisses and tenderness that can only be shared between the two of you.

when you hear a knock on the door, you immediately jump up, ready to finally feel simon’s embrace. but, when you open the door, your stomach drops.

a large man in a hoodie and black balaclava, one you knew wasn’t simon’s, stands in front of you holding a gun to the center of your forehead. you freeze, not knowing whether to defend yourself or run.

“do as i say and put the bag over your head.” he grumbles. you comply, not wanting to make the situation worse.

everything goes dark after feeling a sharp knock to your head.

—————

you’re eyes slowly open, scanning the room with fear. you try to stand, only to find your arms and ankles tied to a metal chair.

the room is plain, only filled with you, a small overhead light, security cameras in each corner, and a bolted door directly across from you.

your head is aching, bruises surely littering across your face. where the hell are you? one moment, you’re waiting for your husband to come home and the next you wake up in a cold, dark room.

what time is it? has simon come home yet, only to find glass smashed and the door broken down with you nowhere in sight?

suddenly, the door opens with a loud creak echoing across the room. a man steps forward, his hands in his pockets with a gun sitting along his hip.

is this it? is this how you’re going to die?

“y/n riley.”

no. no no no, how does he know your name? what does he-

“you’re quite a pretty thing, ain’t ya’? ‘s a shame you married a bum like ghost,” he whispers, hand brushing your cheek.

you flinch away, glaring up at him with both anger and fear. “what do you want?” you ask.

the man chuckles, his monstrous laugh spreading like wildfire. “i want to know where the files are.”

what? what files?

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you spat.

“wow, for a girl so beautiful you sure have a bratty attitude. that’s gonna have to change.”

he brings his hand back, slapping you hard across your face while tears threaten to fall.

“i’m not telling you shit!”

a hand grasps around your throat, squeezing like a lemon on a hot summer day. you reach to claw his hands away but are met with rug burns on your wrists.

“if you keep this up, we’ll do a lot more than slap you” he says. when he finally let’s go of your throat after what feels like hours, you gasp and cough.

he begins to walk away, making some kind of signal to the guards surrounding the door. suddenly, a table of medical tool sits next to you.

fuck.

“no, no no no please i-” another slap stings your face before you can finish your sentence, the burning sensation spreading across your cheek.

a man picks up a scalpel in his gloved hand, holding your hand down with the other. “either tell us where the files are, or you’ll be cut into tiny pieces. your choice, doll,” a sinister smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you.

“please, i’m begging you! i don’t know what yo-” the scalpel swipes across your wrist in one swift motion, causing blood to seep onto the concrete floor. you scream, pain spreading to your chest as you feel a heavy weight on your throat.

the other guard wraps a metal wire around your neck, cutting into the soft flesh just enough to torture, but not kill.

you can’t breathe, sharp blades cutting along your body. punches land to your face, stinging sensations surrounding you until all you see is black.

—————

it’s been at least two days. you’ve become numb from the pain, burns littering your tired body from boiling water and a black eye that causes you unable to see.

where is simon?

he’ll come soon, right? he has to, there’s no way he could live without you in his life… right?

your mind flashes back to your wedding day, happy tears pouring from both of your faces while listening to the others vows. he promised to take care of you and protect you, no matter the cost.

so where is he?

your broken ribs ache with a growling stomach. you couldn’t deal with this anymore, when will it stop?

when will the men forcing themselves onto you and the burning stop? when will simon find you?

your head hangs low before shooting up from the sounds of gunshots. no, no no. they’re going to kill you.

the door slams open as you sob, salty tears stinging along your battered body.

“oh god, sweetheart.”

a familiar low voice rings across the room, bringing attention to your ears and causing you to shoot your head up. your sobs increase as you watch your husband run towards you before cradling your face in his hands.

“i’m sorry love, i’m so sorry,” he whispered.

gunshots continued ringing in the halls, screams filling your head. simon begins untying the ropes while speaking in quick bursts. you see tears flood his eyes as he looks at your body, naked, bruised, and scarred.

you jump into his arms, ignoring the pain you feel. you finally had simon, and that’s all you wanted.

you could care less about the snot and tears spreading across his tactical vest, he can always find another one.

“ghost! halls’ clear, helicopter landing in 5!” you hear a scottish voice speak over his radio.

everyone is here. everyone you care about is here to save you.

simon takes off his vest and shirt before putting it around you to cover you up, a spare pair of pants in the small bag behind him. he picks you up, hands under your knees and along your back. “‘s okay, sweetheart, i got ya’,” he whispers.

you grab tightly around his neck, fearing this is all a dream and he’ll fade away in a single moment. he runs towards an entrance as you hear a chopper sink onto a landing strip. blinding light burns your eyes from not seeing anything but unsettling darkness for god knows how long.

all you can cry is your husbands name before your head gets fuzzy and everything fades away.

—————

ok so i won’t lie i cried multiple times while writing this. it’s based off of a true story that happened to me when i was sold into a trafficking ring for three years and i thought channeling it into writing could be beneficial.

if you’re struggling in any way, just know that you matter and i’m always here for you. my messages and inbox are always open.

☻ jude

[heartorbit]

why is their name siffrin when you siff in the cold food and siff out hot eat the food

[idle-compy]

fits from my dream bc those decided to stick in my brain rather than the actual plot

(click for better quality)

[tls12lessthan3]

oh han sooyoung was neglected as a child and she has a oral fixation and shes sullen and pessimistic and sarcastic huh. oh she has symbolism ridden dreams huh. oh she has a power based on a splitting of conciousnesses huh. singshong i see the freudian influence ive read the theory you cannot hide from me.

[sofiisx]

New fit♡♡

[thanotaphobia]

fly bird fly

i'm losing my mind. i'm going crazy. i'm going CRAZYYYYY. i wrote this in like 2 seconds literally oh my god

i will crosspost this to ao3 in a second lmao EDIT: CROSSPOSTED

⋆

They trip through the portal, and Phil’s stomach drops.

Not that it wasn’t already on the fucking floor. Through the floor, even. All the way in fucking hell, where apparently, that goddamn eye beast thinks they belong. Phil trips through the global portal and ends up by the cornucopia, Tubbo shrieking in his ear and a vague ringing in his ears.

His lungs hurt, clogged with thick dust from the crumbling marble ceilings. He can still see Chayanne in his mind’s eye, terrified but hiding it well. Tallulah, openly terrified. All the other eggs, dirty and frightened. He can still hear Foolish’s voice in his ears, shouting, screaming. He can see Fit’s face, and that thing. He can’t believe how tall it was, towering over them. And El Quackity…

“Phil, lasso me,” Tubbo demands.

He shoves his face into Phil’s space. Phil doesn’t jump– just stares at Tubbo and the dust in his hair, the blood running down his face, and then blinks.

“What?” he asks.

“Lasso me, lasso me,” Tubbo says, already pulling out his glider and shoving it onto the floor, struggling to open it. “We can fly, you can fly–”

Phil inhales, the very action sending bolts of pain through him, and his wings extend without so much as a thought. It’s strange, having muscle memory for something you haven’t done in months. His feathers ruffle, and every inch of him aches with the effort.

“I don’t know if I can, Toby,” he says, and Tubbo shakes his head.

“You take the paraglider, I have water, we can– you can fly us out, can’t you? Can’t you? We have the coordinates–”

“My wings are– I can’t–”

“Can you get us there, Phil?” Tubbo asks, shoving a lasso into his hands. The other end is tied around Tubbo’s waist, and Phil looks at him. He sees Tubbo face and the blood and his own sword crushing through Tubbo’s sternum with the thick crack of still-wet bone, and he exhales. Then he nods.

“I don’t know,” he says, “but we can try.”

“Go,” Tubbo says. “I have a water bucket.”

“Okay,” Phil says, and he fumbles for his grappling squack, and fires.

Flying isn’t something that just comes naturally. It’s a skill that has to be learned and honed, a sport like any other. There are specific muscle groups linked to certain maneuvers, stretches specifically created just for avians who fly professionally, all sorts of things in order to make someone’s wings in perfect shape for all types of flying. Long distance, sprints, racing twirls. Phil is known for being able to do them all– or at least, he had been. He can remember the training, the time he’d put into it. The things he’d had to do in order to instruct his body over and over and make it used to the strain.

It has been more than six months, and his muscles scream.

His shoulders ache. His forearms burn with the stress of pulling Tubbo behind him. His legs cramp and his lower back throbs. The pain is immeasurable, uncountable, uncontrollable. Phil can grit his teeth but it doesn’t stop the flashes of white behind his eyes as he spreads his wings and flies, desperate. He can barely see the horizon as he goes, but he does anyway, listening intently for Tubbo and pushing down the instinct to curl into a ball and sob with the pain.

They land, and it’s a brief moment of relief before they’re off again, Phil firing his grappling squack and Tubbo shouting something unintelligible into the wind behind them. He trusts Tubbo to land the water bucket shots every time he lands, but he only has to a couple times before his MDA pings he’s getting close; his wings are numb by now, the shoots of pain frequent and intense, making him shudder and twitch every three seconds or so. Behind him, Tubbo is yelling, screaming into the wind, and Phil would join him if he wasn’t so out of breath. Every inch of him is on fire– and not in the good way, not in the Bolas way, just in the torturous way. 

He keeps seeing Chayanne. Flashes of yellow on the landscape below. Hope, like a flower, blooming in his chest. But every time he sees it, or sees Tallulah, a black fist crushes that hope with a quick blink. 

Finally, he sees water, and the boat. His wings are on the verge of giving out and he barely gets Tubbo out and over the water before he stumbles, cramps, and pulls into a nosedive.

When he slams into the water, it’s cold– it shocks him, and he inhales by accident, coughing as he breaks the surface. His wings are wet and heavy but he can’t bring himself to care, spitting out clumps of water and dust mixed together into a thick, glue-like paste. He feels like a cement mixer, and ahead of him he can see Tubbo crawling out of the water and onto the back of the boat, hair plastered to his forehead. Somehow, he finds the strength to lift his arms and make his wings spasm in a way that pushes him forward, towards the boat. He feels Tubbo’s hands on his arm and then the faint sound of him shouting, and then Fit invades his gaze and two other hands grasp him, dragging him onto the boat. 

The wood is hard beneath him and Phil lies there for a second, still spitting up water and gunk. Fit and Tubbo are talking, and he clues in just as Fit says–

“Phil, we have to go get the others.”

“I can’t,” he says. Neither of them seem to hear him. His wings lie limp and lifeless behind him, waterlogged and exhausted. His entire back is on fire and his feathers are dull, the weight dragging him back as he forces himself to stand. His body feels like one gigantic bruise.

“We have to get others,” Fit says, the elytra on his back ruffling. Phil envies him, but only for a moment.

“I can’t,” Phil insists. He rummages through his inventory, and comes up with a lasso in his hands. “My wings are gone, dude, they’re– I can’t fly, it’s not physically possible. I can’t get anyone–”

It doesn’t matter how much he wants to. It doesn’t matter how much guilt gnaws at him, tearing through his stomach lining with teeth that gnash and chew. 

“I will, then,” Fit says, determination writ on his brow. His face is impenetrable, but Phil sees his own guilt reflected back at him. “Here, the lasso, I’ll–”

And then he’s gone, and Tubbo is left supporting Phil with one hand, and Phil is still reeling. They have one singular moment to breathe. Phil spits onto the deck, and Tubbo follows suit, red blood mixing with water and then disappearing as another wave washes up onto their feet. They stumble forward and Phil shakes Tubbo off, then shakes off some of the water from his wings. Even that little motion sends acres of pain flashing through him, like sparks of electricity up and down his spinal cord. He thinks he might be dying.

He kind of hopes he is.

God, Chayanne.

“Phil,” Tubbo says, looking at his MDA. It’s ringing, and vaguely Phil realizes his is too. Everything is still a little fuzzy in his ears. “Shit. Meteor. We need to go, we need to–”

And then they’re on the move again.

He has no choice. He runs.

[ouroborosreilig]

GREIL I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHIG

life!desertduo.... but as kate nash - skeleton song....

myanii the beasts got ahold of me now what have u done

[redbean-nom]

din djarin, age 10: clone wars refugee child

boba fett, age 11: in federal prison for destroying an entire venator while trying to kill mace windu

[mintypsii]

one piece x steven universe au where instead of being a crystal gem, luffy is sort of a rogue who flies around in a spaceship adventuring through space and making/recruiting friends on different planets and gem colonies, he was inspired by earthlings and now he wants to live freely without the constraints of gem roles and expectations (tagging this with #gem piece)

[vanweezer]

miss taylor what beautiful gowns (variations of large shirt and large pants) you have

id in alt text

[citricjoy]

on set for just breathe LOOK AT HIM !!

[blackcurrant-juice]

i cang believe they just dropped 500 PNGs of this guy all at once

[finsterwalds]

Got my hands on the script of Anatomy of a Fall, and I couldn't help but compare it with some scenes from the movie because that's how deep I am rn :'D Anyway, here are some of my finds and things I personally enjoyed. I'm sure there are more things to dig out but these are what I wanted to share with the world. The order of my finds will be chronological, for the most part, but keep in mind that sometimes, some scenes were edited to show up later, or earlier than originally intended. Spoilers for the whole movie obviously so you've been warned!

Takes place when Vincent first visits Sandra to discuss Samuel's death. In the movie, Sandra stops Vincent and cuts him harshly, saying "STOP, I did not kill him". Vincent then says a line that I think is pretty iconic in the movie, a sarcastic : "That's not the point. Really". His line is much harsher than on the script, where he's a bit softer. "You don't need to tell me that" implies that he has some deep, loyal faith in Sandra, while "That's not the point" cuts any further discussion. He really doesn't wanna know if she actually did it. Comes from a wish to remain blind still, but with less innocence and a lot of denial. Oh, Vincent.

In the movie, his last line is way better imo, he says "No one's gonna believe that. I don't believe that." I like the emphasis on his opinion rather than the fleeting and impersonal "it's really hard to believe". Truly hits way harder and puts Vincent back in the position of a lawyer.

The rest will be under the cut because I think it's gonna be a wall of text I apologize guys...... This movie does things to my brain.

There's a scene that was cut where Vincent phones Nour while still at Sandra's, which I would have enjoyed a lot but I'll admit it's a bit filler-y. Doesn't add a lot and kinda cuts the serious tone of Sandra's confession, imo, as they discuss the judge's antics in a pretty comical manner. I just love Nour so I'm based......

Another, REALLY long scene that was cut where a medium comes into Sandra's house to feel Samuel's ghost and foreshadows Daniel poisoning Snoop with aspirin. I had a good laugh at that one, honestly. It feels pretty out of place with the tone of the movie, and the personality of the characters even... I can't picture Sandra calling a medium. I'm glad they removed it because the foreshadowing was unnecessary too. It's still interesting that they had planned it however.

This takes place after Vincent finds out about the tape. Interestingly, his whole line was cut after "before he died". In the movie, he never comments on Sandra's affairs/sexuality. He never really asks much about her life at all. He truly is blinded by his wish to shield himself from her inner demons, in order to maintain his undying loyalty towards her. To see what he wants of her...

Another scene that was completely cut (a flashback, I believe?) where Sandra makes Daniel pose for a german photographer to make some money, which Monica dislikes, and then they argue. I think it really frames her as too unsympathetic, so I'm also glad it was cut.

Okay, so now, here comes The Big Change. The scene where Vincent and Sandra drink together after the first trial was heavily altered, because its tone in the movie is pretty tense when compared with the lightheartedness of the script. In the script, they laugh and reminisce together about the past and even kiss at the end of the scene. In the movie, none of was I screenshot happens : instead of playing along with the 'firing Vincent' suggestion, the scene ends with Sandra scolding Vincent for judging her in his head. Vincent backs off and the scene ends. Another instance of him not pressing emotional depth to shield himself.

There are other scenes I liked (many that touch upon Sandra's books) but I'll stop there. Hope you'll enjoy that... I might draw some of these so stay tuned... This movie has absorbed my soul but it feels good to be alive, thank you Justine Triet.

[release-the-hound]

A lot of my coworkers sing the praises of ChatGPT and it does make me think less of them. Like you can't even write your own cover letter about why you're a good fit for a job? Maybe you're not a good fit for the job then lol.

ALSO DISCHARGE INSTRUCTIONS?????? if i found out my vet was using chat gpt to write discharge instructions instead of the Knowledge from their Brain I would not go back to that vet lol. Yeah obvs they edit it for accuracy but still.