#will they repeat or break the cycle. they don't know and i don't either | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jifloulette · 5 months ago

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just with you around, i'll do it . . .

the things blue lock men will and try to do whenever the two of you are the only ones around !

who . . ? i. rin, n. seishiro, y. kenyu heads up . . ! rin's one feels a bit suggestive but i swear it's all romantic, established relationship, just fluff *does a cartwheel* (may be a two part typa shit i dunno)

જ ｡˚ itoshi rin absolutely loves peppering your face with kisses (but will he ever admit it? nope)

it's what he yearns for after an intense and long day of passing and shooting. rin may be tired after all that vigorous, tiring training but he will always have enough energy stored just for this. he'll never ever get too tired just to make sure you know how much he loves you!

he doesn't even know how he got into the idea of just having to smother your oh so beautiful face with kisses! but he can't help it because he literally found out how clingy and touch starved he gets the second you introduced him to this profound feeling. he just needs it every single day, it almost becomes something he looks forward to the second he wakes up. it relieves rin when he knows that you enjoy him peppering your face up, you won't see it on his face externally but inside? he's basically doing backflips and summersaults when you squeal to his proposal! this sweet activity becomes a routine for the two of you. rin make sures that his schedule is free for the rest of the night while you do the same. you make sure to bring snacks too! it's mostly your favorites but he doesn't really mind because he'd grown to enjoy munching on them with you as well. then, rin would put on music that two of you both like in the background. the two of you would snuggle up with each other comfortably on either the couch or bed, excited for your boyfriend to start smothering your face up with pecks all over your beaming face. you swear you could see hearts in rin's eyes the second he kisses you, though you could never tease that to him about him, he'll just probably get flustered and get too shy to continue. The first spot on your face rin kisses would be your lips, he says it's the most appropriate part to kiss first but really, all he wants is to taste your sweet, strawberry lipgloss on his own lips. then, he'd go all the way up to your forehead, only initiating it when you break the first kiss. rin wants what's best for you, he wants to make you feel like you're the only one for him even if it doesn't really look like it. when he kisses your forehead, he holds you close to him, needing for you to feel as close as he does. then, rin kisses the spot next to your eyes, the one close to your temples. he really only does it just to see the glimmer in your eyes, he adores seeing you so lovestruck. rin follows it up with a peck on your cheek, nose, and jaw. then once all those three are done, the cycle repeats, kiss on the lips -> forehead -> beside your eye -> cheeks -> nose -> jaw! usually, rin stays quiet during these tender moments. you could see in his eyes how focused he is in just making sure you feel so loved and cared for! rin wasn't the verbal lover, you couldn't always hear him say he loves you but his actions will say otherwise. you don't always ask for reassurance and affirmations for him because he'll do it in his own way! either by helping you pick clothes to wear on a date, giving you the bigger half of his snacks, and his personal favorite, this, smooching you all up with his kisses! in the rare moments he does say something in this routine, he would say one of the most endearing arrangement of words. full of words even you didn't understand! but when you ask him to speak up, rin's already shutting you up with another kiss on the lips!

rin really is in love with you a lot, he wouldn't trade moments like this with the one person he adores and cherishes most for the world. oh, his assistant just chatted him? who careeess, all he's focused on right now is you and only you.

જ ｡˚ nagi seishiro will always wake up early before you just to try and cook you breakfast (it's always a 50/50 chance of having burnt pancakes though)

nagi's never felt like this to anyone to be honest, he always thought it was a hassle to wake up so so early, especially in the weekends! but for you? he's somehow trying his best to wake up before you. he treats it as a challenge, a race of some sort. he wants to try and cook you some breakfast just so he could see your smile beam up and your eyes lighten when he brings the tray inside your shared bedroom. the first time he did it, he really just woke himself up due to hunger. normally he'd go back to sleep, snuggle himself up close to you buuut this time was different. he was craving pancakes! nagi got the motivation because he wanted to try something different for once. sooo, he got up and drank some water from the bedside table before going to the kitchen. he just went through the pantry for some boxed pancake mix before following the instructions on the box, getting a pan and cooking it. he was honestly proud of himself, he had managed to cook 6 pancakes, only having one of them burnt! so he ate two of them because he wanted you to get most of it, he plated your pancakes as pretty as he could. stacking them up, getting frozen blueberries and put them on it, drizzled some syrup and before he knew it, it was already what, 7 am?? he had just finished in time because the second he went inside your shared bedroom, you were grabbing your glasses. it took a few seconds before you could see the surprising sight in front of you. because firstly, the nagi seishiro waking up before you?! second, the nagi seishiro cooked you breakfast for the first time?! it was a sight to see really, usually you would be the one to cook breakfast for the two of you. nagi never really minded that, the same went for you. i mean, having to wake your boyfriend up with a kiss to tell him breakfast was ready is one of the things you genuinely loved doing every now and then. you give nagi a quick peck on the cheek as your way of giving thanks before he asks you if he could go to sleep again. you agreed of course! your big baby of a boyfriend already did so much this morning, you ate your pancakes in silence while admiring the scene of nagi already fast asleep beside you.

the second time nagi did this, it was totally on purpose! you had told him that you loved his pancakes so that became his entire motivation to start this in the first place! he couldn't stop waking up at night, he really wanted to make you breakfast in bed. it was the fifth time he woke up that early morning when he finally got up to cook breakfast. all was going well.. until he had fallen asleep for a quick 10 minutes on the counter.. he hadn't even noticed the burning happening when he heard the fire alarm go off! he was flabbergasted, he really wanted to make these pancakes as amazing as the last ones. so he just threw the burnt one away, and plated your pancakes the same as before. except, it looked rushed, i mean he did just burn the last one and made a huge mess so i guess it was bound to happen? unfortunately for nagi, you had woken up due to both the fire alarm and the smell of something burning! your boyfriend saw you and quickly pushed you back to the bedroom, picking you up bridal style before telling you to wait for him. you had kind of figure him out by now, so when nagi went inside the room, you were already so cheery! giving him another quick peck on the cheek and eating the food immediately. you thought he would've asked if he could go back to sleep but no, he just kneeled in front of you and stuck his tongue out like a dog. pointing to his mouth, clearly wanting some of the pancakes he made. and as the good partner you are, you obviously gave him some. nagi nodded as a way to give thanks as you gave him a few pats on his head. now recently, you had been seeing a looot more boxed pancake mix in the pantry, knowing your boyfriend, you were really going to look forward to when he was going to make breakfast for you again! you thought he was going to only do it on the weekends? nahh, he's doing it every day he gets!!

this was a routine that you and nagi were always going to be looking forward to, not just to be able to taste his pancakes but to spend time with him. besides, he doesn't really care if it ruins his "sleep schedule", all he wants is to see you smile and make you spoon feed him!

જ ｡˚ yukimiya kenyu always sings the two of you to sleep every night (don't tell him how much you love because he'll melt)

kenyu has a lot of talents and passions, soccer and modeling being two of the ones he was really proud of. but unbeknownst, singing was the third on the list! he never really knew when he started to love singing, it just happened. he did know that it all started with you on a random tuesday night. you had randomly asked him to sing you to slumberland. it was rather an odd request but he did it nonetheless, you were the one asking after all, no way was he going to deny something you wanted. he questioned you on what song he should sing, you thought for a few seconds and answered, kenyu should sing "i think they call this love" his eyes lit up, he loved that song! he dedicated that song to you on his first listen, it was his top song on wrapped too (he has a playlist heavily dedicated to you because ugh he is so head over heels for you.) he zoned out for a bit, he was nervous..? he was scared to what you were going to think of his singing voice. he felt tense, you felt it as well. you reminded him that it's alright if he doesn't want to do it, you wouldn't mind it. but suddenly he started singing

♫ all i dream of is your eyes, all i long for is your touchand darling, something tells me that's enough ♫

when you said you were surprised was an understatement, you were beyond shocked because of your boyfriend's amazing singing voice! no words could describe how amazing he sounded, it was ineffable. the first lyric of the chorus kenyu sang already made you feel so sleepy, how dare he hide this amazing talent of his from his s/o?! but you were too astonished to say anything, the way his voice hit your ears so tenderly, so full of love, it was enough for you to just lay on his chest quietly, listening to the angel-like voice of your boyfriend. you were trying your best to battle the sudden closing of your eyelids, you wanted to listen to kenyu sing more. it was so perfect, "how could someone be so perfect?" was the only thing in your mind during this moment. you could tell that kenyu genuinely had fun singing, it was in his tone and the way he was caressing your hair while he was doing so. you were rubbing circles with your thumb on his other hand, implying that you were enjoying his singing.

♫ you can say that I'm a fool and i don't know very much but i think they call this love ♫

it was when kenyu sang this part of the song that you were snuggling up closer to him, a sign that to your boyfriend that you were about close your eyes and dream your way to tomorrow's sunrise. though you were about to fall asleep, he never stopped singing. he was proud of himself that he had managed to make doze off with his voice! he never really thought that he had a good singing voice, he had sung before, but it was when he was younger; in his school choirs, talent shows in middle school, and in front of his parents. he continued to sing himself to sleep, until every ounce of energy he had in his body was gone. it was right before the second chorus of the song that he took off his glasses, closed the lamp, and gave you a sweet goodnight kiss that kenyu too snoozed away. the following night, you once again asked if he could sing you to sleep again. it didn't take much asking though because he already said yes even before you could ask the full question. this time, you wanted him to sing keshi's "understand", another song you knew he loved. his eyes lit up once again, this time with a beaming smile plastered on his gorgeous face. he sang with his honey-like voice again, making you sleep a few minutes after to which he soon followed as well. this became a part of your shared night routine with each other! wearing matching pj's -> brushing your teeth -> doing each other's skincare -> cuddling with each other on bed -> kenyu singing you to sleep. the two of you even made a playlist on spotify on what song he should lull you with each night, it consisted of laufey, wave to earth, keshi, and much much more.

now because of you, he finally grows to love singing. hell, he could even sing as a career too! though he might never singing in front of a huge crowd, not even in front of his own parents, he will only sing in front and for you because kenyu knows you love it, and it makes him love it too! this side of him is only for you to see and for you to hear

note ; this was a request!! this was rotting in my drafts for a while so argh i needed to post it before i get so busy with school </3

©🇯🇮🇫🇱🇴🇺🇱🇪🇹🇹🇪, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else.

#jinxed it up ! 𓆩♡𓆪 #ARGH WHY DID I TAKE SO LONG TO WRITE THISSDIHBVHVBERIHIWIEHV #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x male reader #bllk x male reader #bllk fluff #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #blue lock #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #yukimiya kenyu x reader #yukimiya kenyu #yukimiya x reader

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johanna-swann · 6 months ago

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I actually have sooo many issues with 911 lately that haven't even got much to do with any ships.

Like. They wrote out almost all of the side characters. Chris is gone, Linda and Sue are gone, Athena's kids are gone (even though Harry just moved in with her and Bobby again? Seriously, where is Harry?), Ravi is gone, Carla is gone. I know the GA maybe don't care that much, casual viewers might not even have noticed that this many characters have just vanished from the show, but in my opinion this is one of the things that give a show running as long as 911 life. Having a big cast is a good thing. Otherwise things are going to get very monotonous very soon.

Actually, that's my second point. They keep repeating storylines! Every season Hen and Karen have to fight a custody battle over one of their kids.

Every season Eddie ends up realising he has a lot of repressed trauma and issues which keep him from leading a healthy happy and free life.

Every season Bathena realise that they have communication issues and they fight about it, but then something traumatic happens and they forgive each other without ever really talking things out.

Every season we are reminded that Maddie's most prominent character trait is "traumatised", the writers just alternatingly bring up Doug again and sometimes the ppd arc.

Every season we see Buck being somewhat restless, looking and searching for something that will bring him true happiness and cycling through love interests that never stick around and each time when you think "oh, there it is, he's getting somewhere now" the writers go "BEEEP! WRONG!" and we start all over again. [This is not just about recent events aka Tommy, the break-up and Buck potentially going back to his 1.0 ways, this also happened in season 6 when he had his "it doesn't matter what other people see in me, I'm enough" revelation only to suddenly be like "omg, Natalia just sees me".]

And Chimney- he had his moment last season with the wedding episode, Kenneth Choi really ate that episode up, but his most prominent character trait is "Maddie's supportive husband". There's really not that much going on with him otherwise.

Another point I briefly touched upon above is consistency. Like Harry moving back in with Athena and Bobby and then just vanishing. Or Gerrard being more like a slightly unfriendly grandpa than an actual antagonist in season 8 when he was still spouting slurs in season 7.

And the timeline! We talked about this before ("last March", Mara's fostering to adoption timeline, Tommy tranferring to harbour "5 years ago"), but the newest "Tommy was actually Abby's Tommy" twist just adds to that. Tommy was with Abby for over 2 years. They were engaged. This was at a time when he was still at the 118. Tommy dated Abby presumably because he was in denial or maybe because he was hiding. In either case, wouldn't his team at least have heard about his fiancée, Abby the dispatcher? Wouldn't that have rung a bell when Buck eventually brought her around only a year or two later? Tommy did talk about his private life at least a little at work, even under Gerrard. It just doesn't make sense. (Not to mention this seems wildly out of character for Tommy who around the same time also said about himself "being single is easier".)

Then there's the pacing. This was a huge issue in season 7. They jumped from one personal soap opera drama to the next without taking any breathers, had almost no procedural in their drama the whole season, still somehow decided to spend one third of the entire season just on the opening disaster and also squeezed in a "Bobby begins for the third time now" episode. But okay, it was a shortened season, there were strikes, they switched networks, they were under a lot of pressure - I'll cut them some slack. At least they set up a bunch of interesting stuff for the following season.

But we're in season 8 now. The renewal was announced very early, they had a lot of time to plan this time. Also they have almost double the episodes they had last season, there's really no need to rush any of the major plots. I am done cutting them slack.

They wanna do a 3 part opening disaster again? Okay fine, you have the time now. I feel like they could've easily done it in 2 episodes (especially 8x02 felt a little "eh"), but okay. Better than the breakneck speed you were going at befo- Oh, what's that? 8x04 flying in with a steel chair. You resolved 70% percent of the plots you set up last season in one single episode with no build up, no emotional pay off and no lasting consequences? And you also squeezed in multiple unrelated calls at the same time? Damn, okay then. Good-bye potentially interesting storylines. Fuck me for being invested I guess. I thought there would at least maybe be some follow up in 8x05, but no.

Now that Halloween episode wasn't bad, it was actually the best episode of this season imo, but instead of following up on previously established conflicts and developments they just hit us with new Wilson family trauma and conflict that was also immediately fixed again. And now 8x06 has speedrun and dumped another storyline that had potential to go to deeper and interesting places. Not gonna talk too much about that though because this post is about the show as a whole, not ships.

And I am not yet convinced that there will be much more to come on the only thing that's left from last season: Eddie's deep dive into his trauma and repression. It's totally possible at this point that being told "you deserve nice things" by a random stranger actually solved all of his problems, it would be very in tone with 911's new style.

What are they even gonna do with the rest of this season? Revisiting the Hotshots set sounds fun, but ultimately inconsequential. You know what's great about a regular old procedural drama with ~20 episodes per season that comes on weekly? You have time. You can let the viewers sit with their emotions and thoughts for a week and keep them engaged by stretching things out a little.

But why should I bother getting emotionally invested in problems the characters are gonna solve within the same episode anyway? Or rather, even if I wanted to, how am I supposed to care if you don't give me the time to develop any feelings about anything that's happening? "Henren lost in court and are now completely forbidden from seeing Mara at all!" Damn, that must be so har- "JUST KIDDING! Ortiz is exposed and everything is perfect again now." Oh. Okay then, I guess.

Bottom line: The characters are all stuck in their own hamster wheels, they keep cutting side characters that could bring a breeze of fresh air (I'm honestly surprised they even kept Josh until now), they rush through all the storylines a such a ridiculous speed that I don't even have time to feel any sort of way about it, they don't even try to keep a consistency or sensible timeline going and they seem to strongly prioritise random funny bits that'll entertain the very casual viewers right now in this moment (tiger call, Billy Boils, Bee-nado, the 'Stache tm, "wait, it's the same Abby?", Gerrard being a fangirl at heart) instead of playing the long game and catering to people who actually pay a little attention to the show.

[On that last remark: I'm not talking about hardcore fans who analyse every single frame here, I mean casual fans who've watched the show on and off again for a while and who may not be involved in fandom but genuinely care about the show.]

I mean. What am I even still doing here? The show is treading water and I end up disappointed more often than not. I'm still holding out a little hope that they actually will do something interesting with Eddie and his sea-monkeys, but I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.

#911 abc #911 spoilers #911 review #long post #911 season 8 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hen wilson #chimney han #maddie han #bobby nash #athena grant

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pullupinarari · 5 months ago

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It takes a bit more than you [LH]

author’s note: wrote this just to test how I felt about my writing and the answer is: idk lol I truly don't know if I love or if I hate this. But anyway. Thank you to the anons who requested this and sent some more ideas for this scenario!! Hope you enjoy this, mwah 🩷

• masterlist

wc: 5564 - english is not my first language! feedback is always appreciated

You don’t know how it started, when or why. But lately, it seems like everything that you and your husband know how to do, is fight all the time. Either over the tiniest of things or about the most serious questions, the environment surrounding you two lately is cold, heavy, and the silence surrounding your bodies could easily cut through you - the feelings of anger and disappointment invading your veins.

Maybe it’s because of all the work pressure that both of you have been facing for the past month or so, maybe the tight schedules are to blame. Maybe the fact that you haven’t had any time for yourselves lately isn’t helping either. But the only time you see Lewis smiling now, is whenever he is with his princess, Grace - and the realization that you came to, was that you only end up getting the cold shoulder from him, a closed facial expression that breaks you.

Yet again, another stupid argument broke between you two - God, it was so stupid that you don’t even remember what it was about anymore. The only image playing in your head over and over again, is the frame of his dark eyes, the way he looked at you with such a distance, like you aren’t the woman he loves anymore, like he doesn’t see his entire life and future beside you any longer.

Every time, the cycle repeats itself. You two fight, and silence is the only thing stringing your bodies along, the only sounds being the conversations and interactions that both of you would have with your daughter. But other than that, it’s like you and Lewis just pretend that the other isn’t there.

During the night, Lewis had to fly out for some work, and you couldn’t seem to fall asleep. No matter how hard you would try, you would close your eyes and your mind just kept haunting you with the destructive thoughts it would create. The fact that Lewis’ body would lay far from your figure whenever he was home, wrapped in the cold sheets, wasn’t helping.

To be honest, you don’t remember the last time he even touched you, the last time he gave you a heartfelt kiss - not even a goddamn hug. And you miss him. You miss the feeling of his limbs intertwined with yours, you miss taking in his scent when you would nestle your head in the crook of his neck, while his arms would hold you tight and close. You miss your husband.

You close your eyes, pretending to be asleep and hiding your face further into the covers, but the way he just gets dressed, grabbing his bag before leaving your shared room without even landing a kiss on your hair, or his fingers caressing you for a second, is enough to make you burst into a crying mess once he is out the door.

You still love him. You can feel the love for him burning inside of you every time you look at him, hearts mirroring your gaze, a warm smile spreading across your features every time you see him with Grace - showing that he is, indeed, the best dad ever, and you have no doubts that you chose the right one to raise a family with.

But, lately, Lewis just makes you feel lonely. Like you don’t mean that much to him anymore, like he doesn’t feel the same way. And you are growing tired of all this. Growing tired of burning your entire self, your skin, your emotions, your soul for him, and getting just coldness and silence in return. If you don’t burn together, you will, for sure, burn alone.

Long gone are the days when Lewis would actually care, and take some time to sit down with you and talk it out after a fight. Long gone are the days when fights between you would happen very rarely.

When he is away, he still makes sure to call everyday. But not to talk to you. He wants to talk to his daughter, making a special time in his days to always talk to his baby, to see her face lighting up as soon as she sees her daddy on the screen in front of her.

And while you hold your phone so Lewis and Grace can have a little chat, you die a little more on the inside. Your face falls, your brain rethinking your entire marriage, questioning why you keep doing this to yourself. Why do you still submit yourself to stay in a place where you clearly don’t feel at home anymore?

Your gaze travels through the four walls surrounding you. The family pictures - reminiscing you through the old times when you were happy, united as family. Every piece of furniture is enough to remind you of all the times you and Lewis carefully picked every piece, decorating it like the house of your dreams, creating your safe space there, a place that would reflect both your personalities.

In the dark of the night, where it would be just you and silence, tears stream down your face - and you don’t even bother cleaning them up, hoping the salty water would be enough to extinguish all the fire and love that insists on devouring your insides. You’re sure that, if you listen close enough, you can still hear his giggles echoing through the kitchen, you can still hear his favorite music playing, remembering how he would always sway to its rhythm while cooking.

Now, the night lies beside you in bed, pure and cold like a sharp knife. It’s just you and the darkness, alone. Your love, the passion that you still hold in your hands for your husband feels like this knife, entering every ounce of you - painfully, slowly through the days, ripping your skin apart, until this emotion can finally subside.

Except it never fades. It’s like your mind still recalls the feeling of his silky lips traveling through your body, like a ghost that carefully touches your skin until goosebumps appear. You would give everything to go back to those passionate nights, followed by slow, light mornings. Lewis saw you differently then, finding heaven on earth in your presence, giving you everything of himself.

You are a long history. And Lewis was always the type to read every line, to focus on each word of your being. Until it got to a point where it seems like he doesn’t want to read you anymore.

If you could, you would go back to the day when the first fight erupted - oblivious that it would be the beginning of a never ending phase of frustration, short replies, closed facial expressions, and solitude. You would kill to go back and to make it right, giving your all to avoid the argument, firmly believing that it could have changed something in the present.

You drown yourself in work, trying your best to forget about all this. Everytime your phone rings and Lewis’ face shows up on the screen, your instinct is to immediately reach for your three-year-old - you already know that he isn’t calling you, he doesn’t want to see you or talk to you.

You don’t know when or if this is coming to a stop, and it scares you to imagine what it might take for you to find some peace in your heart again, touching the ring on your finger while every possibility crosses your mind.

You’re too tired to think, too tired to wait for him. You can’t stand looking at the same four walls anymore, spending the entire night by yourself, your tears being your only company.

At the same time, you can’t shut the feeling that makes you realize that, all it would take for you to stay, was your husband telling you that he still wants you. You would drop everything in a second to be back into his arms. If you could find the same emotions pooling inside of him, you would spend the entire night sharing secrets, feelings, touches in your haven, without anything being able to ruin it. But he doesn’t, and you’re tired of feeling alone, abandoned.

So, after talking to your brother for a while and venting to him about everything that has been going on, you decide to pack some clothes for you and Grace in a bag, picking up your daughter and Roscoe, driving to your brother’s house, trying to stay away from all the memories and flashes that your house brings back now.

“Are we going to meet daddy, mummy?” - your daughter asks as you start driving. The question makes your heart drop, and you take a deep breath before replying to her.

“No, love. We are going to see your uncle Josh! Don’t you miss playing with him?” - you fake some enthusiasm in your voice, but a small smile shows up on your features once you see your princess nodding her head at your words.

Once you arrive at your brother’s house, you decide to turn off your phone: Lewis doesn’t acknowledge you anyway, and you know that it won’t be long until he is back home from his work trip. So, you just try your best to enjoy your brother’s company for a moment, desperately searching for a different environment, different people that might make you feel something other than sadness and emptiness inside of you.

Your brother and his wife manage to distract your daughter, playing with her and spending some time with the toddler while you took some time for yourself. Taking a hot shower, hoping it would ease the tension surrounding your muscles, the tears escaping your eyes mix themselves with the water coming from the faucet, making you feel like your tears aren’t even real.

And maybe, your marriage isn’t real either. Maybe, what was once real, is now becoming a pity stop that your husband keeps making, out of shame or doubt, not ready to face the consequences of his actions either. Apparently, this is what we call love: this thing that knocks us down or ends up treading on us slowly, like weary grass.

Every night, you cuddle your daughter closer in her sleep, her little body comforting you, truly mending your heart without even knowing it. Your little partner in crime, the only one that saw you crying for the past days, the one that put a smile on your lips, her presence lighting up your insides, the most important piece of your life.

And just like you thought, Lewis didn’t call that day, already preparing everything to come back home. Except that coming back to an empty house wasn’t in his plans. He unlocks the front door, noticing how everything is dark, without a sign of life inside.

He checks the clock - 6:34pm, furrowing his brows, trying to understand what’s going on. Wandering around every room, only to be met with silence and darkness, he tries to find a reason for your absence. “Maybe they went to the park” - the man thinks, connecting the empty house to the fact that your car isn’t parked in the garage either.

Grabbing his phone, your husband calls your number, wanting to let you know that he is back home. But instead of being greeted by your voice, he is greeted with your voicemail. Why would you leave your house with your phone switched off?

He insists. Calling you again, and again, and again, and again. Only to continue to be met with the message that says that your phone is off, his calls not coming through. It’s ironic how this moment represents how your marriage has been for the past months: you are continuously trying to make things better, only to be met with Lewis’ indifference.

His heart races in his chest, worrying that something might have happened to his daughter, and to you. Hopping on his car, he starts driving around the city, passing by every place that crosses his mind, potential spots where his family can be - while never stopping calling your phone.

Almost an hour later, the man is delving into complete desperation, not knowing where his family is, not knowing what to do. Lewis starts praying without even realizing, his hands slightly trembling at the thought of losing the loves of his life. But, just like an angel showing up, his phone rings with a message from his brother-in-law.

“Hey, man. I don’t know if you’re back home already, but Y/N and Grace are at my apartment. They decided to come spend some days here, but they are okay. Just a heads up, so you don’t have to worry” - Lewis lets out a heavy breath after reading the text, leaning his body on the car seat, feeling lighter just by knowing that both of his girls are okay.

He knows that things haven’t been going well between you two, and he tries his best so your daughter doesn’t realize any of it - but right now, he just wants to hold both you and Grace, and bring you back home, wrapping your bodies safely around his arms.

So he decides to drive to your brother’s house, ready to meet his family again. Once he enters the apartment, your daughter is immediately drawn to her daddy’s voice, and the way she squeals his name is enough to make your stomach drop, even from afar - the realization of being back in the same room as your husband hitting you now.

You walk into the living room, being greeted by the sight of Lewis sitting on the sofa, his giggles mixing with Grace’s, while he is hugging her tightly, leaving kisses all over the girl’s features.

He acknowledges your presence - for what feels like the first time in months. His gaze lands on you, and his face falls when he realizes that he isn’t being welcomed by your kind smile, happy to see your husband finally back home. Instead, his eyes are fixed on your emotionless expression. The dark bags under your empty eyes, your lips narrowed in a line, your body tensing the more he looks at you. But he is just trying to look into you, trying to understand everything that happened while he was away.

“Can we talk?” - he asks you quietly, picking Grace up so he can come closer to you. You just nod silently, directing him to the room where you were temporarily staying at your brother’s house.

Walking inside, he sits down, his hands never leaving the hold he has on his baby - and your daughter being equally glued to her dad, not letting him go for the world. You decide to sit across from your husband, keeping your distance.

Lewis can feel the tension in the air, the way your connection feels weird and uncomfortable right now. Cleaning his throat, he decides to speak. “Your phone has been off” - he informs you, as if you don’t know about it.

“I know” - is all you reply with, your voice sounding hoarse and cold.

His eyebrows furrow for a second. “Why did you turn it off?” - the man insists, making you feel like he is actually trying his best to make you snap, just so he can hear the worst words that have been crossing your mind during all this time.

“Because” - you keep yourself from speaking, looking into your daughter’s eyes, reminding yourself that she can hear everything that you two are saying, and definitely not wanting her to witness something like this.

Lewis can still read you. He notices how uncomfortable you are, how you bite your tongue to prevent yourself from saying something that you might regret. So he just leaves it, kissing Grace’s cheek lovingly while thinking about what to do.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” - he offers, getting up from his place, holding out his hand for you to take.

You don’t even bother looking at him, hugging your own figure while leaning further in your seat. “I came here to spend some time with my brother, away from home. And that’s what I want to do” - your words sound cold and dry, making Lewis’ heart sting.

Deep down, he knows that both of you are broken. He knows that your relationship has not been the same for a while now. He just doesn’t want to believe it.

“Mummy, I want to go home with daddy” - your child says, her voice trembling slightly as some tears swell in her eyes. You could cry right here and then, too - not wanting to be the reason why your daughter has to go through something like this, and definitely not wanting to make her feel like she has to pick a side.

You swallow the lump that found its place in your throat a couple of days ago. Lewis’ thumb carefully cleans the small tears leaving your baby’s eyes, kissing her over and over again. “Don’t cry princess, it’s okay. We’ll be home in no time” - his soothing voice tells her, and he gives you a silent look, a pleading one, begging you to please come home with him.

Her tiny arms wrap around his neck, hiding her face on her daddy’s shoulder, and he makes sure to continue to caress her back, while leaving gentle kisses on the little girl’s frame, calming her down, making her feel protected.

“We’ll talk about all this at home. Please” - Lewis whispers to you, extending his hand for you to take.

This definitely isn’t the time to have such a serious conversation, not while your daughter is near, hearing every word that you say as clear as water. So you give in, ignoring his hand but getting up from your seat, gathering your things so you can go back to the place you used to call ‘home’, but that doesn’t feel like it anymore.

On your way back, Grace ends up falling asleep and you carry your baby back to her room, while Lewis takes your bag out of your car.

Now, your daughter isn’t there anymore to pull you back from the deafening silence surrounding her parents. Now, it’s just you, Lewis, and the shadows of the couple that you used to be. The room is so silent that you could almost hear each other’s heartbeat, at this point.

Lewis doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t even know if he should push it, so he decides to bring his body closer to yours, trying to comfort you, wanting to see your reaction.

But as soon as you feel his figure approaching you, your instinct makes you immediately move away, walking around to the other side of the living room, sitting on the sofa and covering your body with a blanket.

You don’t plan on lying beside him anymore, you don’t feel comfortable enough to do so. As sad as it sounds, Lewis feels like a stranger to you now, and you don’t want to share a bed with someone that treats you as coldly as he does. So, maybe, sleeping on the couch doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

Your husband sighs at your movements. “Come on. It’s just the two of us now, let it out” - he sits on the opposite side of the sofa, ready to listen to you.

“I have nothing to say” - you reply, not paying him much attention, not having the energy to argue once again.

Another loud sigh leaves his lips. “Why did you turn off your phone?” - there it is, the damn question again.

“I didn’t want to talk to you” - sincerity is scary, but needed in times like these. You don’t want another fight to break, but you are tired of hiding the way you feel.

“Why not?” - the words leave Lewis’ mouth immediately, as if he didn’t even have time to process them. Your reaction is to just snort at his question, sounding stupid to your ears.

“When was the last time that we actually talked, Lewis? When was the last time you called my number to speak to me, specifically? Because lately all I do is pick up your calls and leave you to talk to our daughter, because all you do is ignore me and the way I feel” - you snap, raising your tone as if that would make your words enter his brain faster.

On the other side of the room, silence settles. He knows that you are right, he can’t argue with you on this. The truth is, Lewis is tired of the constant fighting as well. He misses the calmness that he would always find at home, with his family, by your side. He misses the cuddles, the carefree mornings, the way you used to make him feel like time had stopped.

This routine is taking a toll on your marriage, but Lewis doesn’t know how to deal with this - with the changes in your behavior, with the distance growing more and more between you two, with his own feelings. He is frustrated with work, he is worried about the future of your relationship, of your family, but he doesn’t know what to do to make it better - and it’s always hard for him to open up, to let his shell crack, to show his feelings and weaknesses.

He doesn’t dare to say a word to you, his mind running to create a supercut of all the past weeks, analyzing everything that went wrong between you two. You just nod your head at yourself, not even slightly surprised by his lack of response.

Lewis eventually gets up, reaching for the bathroom, starting the water to drain his own thoughts in the hot water hitting his muscles. For the first time in a while, he allows himself to let some tears escape his own eyes now, feeling powerless, unable to mend his family back together - feeling like he is failing the most important roles of his life, failing you as a husband, failing Grace as a father.

When he steps out of the shower, he finds you already asleep on the sofa, and he actually needs to stop himself from picking you up and carrying you to bed - thinking that maybe it’s just better to give you some space.

During the night, Lewis tosses and turns on the bed, his mind haunting him with an endless guilt creeping through his bones, running to find a solution to the crisis you found yourselves in.

He doesn’t want to lose you, of course he doesn’t. You are the best thing that has happened to him, you gave him the most precious gift he could ever ask for - your baby, and he longs to have many more with you, to grow old by your side as your beautiful family keeps growing.

In the living room, you too are still awake. Some hot tears tingle in the corner of your eyes at the thought of spending another night without being held by your husband. You hate to admit it, but the hope that you used to safely keep inside of you, it’s vanishing, and you see yourself reaching a dead end - with the end of your marriage being the only possible solution to this.

You mirror each other’s thoughts, expressions and movements right now, even while lying in different rooms. It feels like your shadows are still connected, an invisible string sewing your hearts together, even if you can’t see it right now.

If saying goodbye is the solution, you wish you could ask Lewis to spend one last night with you. Just so you could feel his touch for one last time, sensing the protectiveness of his arms, the warmth erupting from his skin, and he would kiss your entire face, making your heart jump as he would make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world again. You would just ask him to stay for a little while, not to leave you suddenly. Instead, you would beg him to leave you slowly, so you could feel him lying by your side one last time, before you two would say goodbye for good.

The next morning, your bodies both feel tired, restless, and the air feels thick and heavy, the tension could clearly be felt between you two. And even if you tried your best so your daughter wouldn’t notice what was happening, she still did. She knows that things aren’t the same, she sees that her mummy and daddy are quieter than usual, you don’t sound happy anymore, and it’s been a while since she has seen you and Lewis kissing or hugging like you used to do all the time before.

Lewis is helping Grace eat her breakfast while you take a shower. And even though he tries to play it cool, playing with his princess, smiling at her, she still holds a question for him to answer.

“Daddy, is mummy okay?” - the toddler asks, making Lewis stop his action for a second.

He furrows his eyebrows lightly. “Of course she is, my love. Why are you asking?”

“Mummy has been crying a lot lately” - the little girl’s words startle Lewis, feeling like he just got punched in the gut.

You are broken, even if you try to play tough and pretend like you’re not. And Lewis can’t stop feeling that incessant guilt in his veins, desperately in need of some divine solution that can help him save his marriage.

But as much as he tries, he can’t find the right way to make you crack even for a bit, so you can let him inside your mind, not allowing yourself to be vulnerable around him anymore. Every time he tries to touch you, your body tenses, you are always searching for things that can distract your mind whenever you find yourself in the same room as him, and completely avoiding being left alone near him.

It’s devastating, truly. He is still your husband, after all - even if he doesn’t really feel like it now. Your heartbeats don’t beat at the same rhythm anymore, you spend your days feeling like you are fighting a silent battle with the father of your child, your feelings being all over the place, declaring themselves as your worst enemies nowadays.

At night, after putting Grace to sleep, you lay on the rocking chair that sits in her room. You are sad, empty, and you are just trying to find some comfort in the little things. Being near your daughter is the best antidote you can get while your entire world seems like it’s coming crashing down, ready to collapse on you.

And without even realizing, you end up falling asleep in her room, the chair carefully placed beside her little bed, trying to wrap yourself in the peaceful bubble that surrounds your baby while she sleeps.

After some time, Lewis gathers the courage to go search for you, actually trying to talk to you now, with no interruptions, just you, your feelings and the sincerity that both of you need so desperately now.

When he finds you sleeping in your daughter’s room, another moment of disappointment and hurt hits him. Are you that desperate to avoid his presence, to physically distance yourself from him, that you feel the need to hide in Grace’s room?

Either way, he decides to act like an adult - something that he should have done a while ago. Gently touching you, he whispers your name until you open your eyes, surprise mirroring your eyes as you realize where you ended up falling asleep.

His face is mere inches away from yours, his eyes staring deeply into yours, and feeling his body so closer to you again makes you break immediately - your lips form a pout while hot tears begin to stream down your face silently.

Lewis wraps his arms around your frame tightly for the first time in so long. Finally, you allow yourself to feel his touch, the one that you were so desperate to feel but kept blocking away, out of fear.

Your husband carries your body to your shared room, finally sitting in the same bed that you have been sharing for so many years now. You breathe quietly, while Lewis gently wipes away the tears that keep staining your cheeks.

“What happened to us, Lewis?” - you question, your voice barely above a whisper as your faces are incredibly close now - you two were missing the contact.

His eyes look glossy as well, trying to brush it off before replying honestly. “I don’t know, love. I wish I knew” - he gently picks a strand of hair, putting it behind your ear.

Your head falls, crying harder as your gut keeps telling you that there’s no way to mend this situation, no matter how badly you want to.

“I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want to lose you” - you confess, sobbing into his chest as he pulls you into his lap, his fingers playing with your hair as he tries his best to calm you down.

Lewis feels his heart clenching in his chest nonstop now, but he is sure of one thing: he doesn’t want to say goodbye either.

“I’m here, baby. I’m right here” - he lets you know, an attempt to shush away your fears.

Distancing your face from his body so you can look into his face, you sniffle before replying. “You don’t understand, Lewis. This isn’t just about you being here or not. You’ve been here for the past couple of months and still, here I am: feeling like I’m walking on eggshells every time I’m around you, afraid of saying something that might be misinterpreted by you, something that can make another fight break again. Afraid to be myself because I feel like you don’t like me anymore. This isn’t just about your presence, it actually takes a bit more than you for me to overcome all this. We are ruined, Lewis. We aren’t the same anymore” - your cries intensify, making Lewis gulp at your confession.

A single tear escapes your husband’s body now, which he immediately wipes away. Sniffling, he cups your face in his hands gently. “I’m sorry, my love. This is all my fault. I’ve been feeling so easily annoyed lately because of work, I haven’t been in the right place mentally, and it took me a while to understand how hard it was affecting my family” - more tears stream down his features now, and you are the one reaching out to softly clean his cheeks.

“But trust me my love, we are still the same, I promise you we are. We are still the same couple, this is just a bad phase, I guarantee you. I need you by my side to be happy, to be myself, I need you so desperately that I will do everything in my power to fix all this shit that I’ve put you through, I swear to God” - he takes a moment to breathe, anxiety pooling in his chest now.

“I don’t breathe correctly, my heart doesn’t beat at the right rhythm without you. I want to continue to raise our princess by your side, I want to have more kids with you, I want our family to grow and I want to spend the rest of my life by your side, caressing your hair while you lay your head on my chest, falling asleep while we are entangled in each other. That’s my plan for the future, because I long to be close to you whenever I’m away. I promise I’ll learn how to deal with my emotions and frustrations better, just please don’t leave me. Please. I can’t stand any idea of a life without you in it. I am still so madly in love with you, Y/N, and I never stopped loving you. So please, just tell me that you still love me as well” - he begs you, his eyes showing you a pleading honesty, so pure that it’s enough to make your inside light up again.

“I could never stop loving you” - you admit, and as soon as the words leave your mouth, Lewis is finally attaching your lips together, meeting you in a loving, gentle yet passionate kiss - the type of kiss that speaks for the both of you.

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry. This won’t happen again, I promise you. The fights are over, I’ll learn how to deal with all this mess, I just want to have you and Grace next to me, forever” - the man is a mess right now, tears still running down his face, completely being himself, being vulnerable to the person who knows him best in this world.

Your nose rubs against his, a small smile appearing on both of your faces. “Me, Grace, and her future siblings?” - you tease, feeling the aura around you lightening up.

Lewis giggles softly. “Definitely. I’m addicted to being your husband, to being a father, and I love the life that I have because you gave me the most important part of it: our family. And nothing in this world is worth losing my girls over. Nothing” - your husband assures you, laying your body on the bed, getting ready to cuddle you for the entire night, making up for all the distance that surrounded you for so long.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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iamespecter · 1 month ago

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"The Visit" - Little Nightmares Short Comic

Anyways, I love batshit insane, bastard Thin Man. It's my favorite interpretation of him, and is actually what I believe him to be as in Little Nightmares 2. Let me explain.

At first, I liked the interpretation of the Thin Man wanting to save himself from repeating the same mistakes, only to be trapped in a time loop. This paradox is cool, but that's too hopeful for a game like Little Nightmares.

The world of LN is twisted, and cruel. Innocents turned guilty. Victims becoming abusers. Regular people becoming monsters. Children becoming Adults. And I think... The Thin Man is no exception to this rule. I think, he is most definitely a bastardized version of Mono.

A twisted view into what kind of monster Mono becomes, if he doesn't let go of his grievances; which, spoiler alert--he doesn't.

That older, more selfish version of the little paperbag boy who becomes so obsessed after his betrayal, that he was willing to kill his younger self for even trying to take his "friend" away from him. Similar to The Lady who hungers like her Guests', I think he is under the influence of the transmission's broadcasts like his own Viewers as well, in order to distract himself from the betrayal that happened to him.

After all, how do you sit in a chair for so long? The answer is by being distracted and preoccupied, of course. I think he doesn't allow himself to think about it entirely, because it'd make him spiral badly.

And when Mono finally opens the door to his room, that distraction is interrupted.

And while yes, I believe that he isn't even known to be real by the residents of the Pale City, I think he still influences them somewhat via the Transmission, and he is the blueprint on what makes every adult so monstrous and so one-track minded. His influence is just THAT strong.

Besides, he is the big bad of LN 2. You should feel sorry for the circumstances that lead him to why he chooses to remain in his seat, but not for the atrocities he commits because he's an adult that's purely powered by his instincts: which is to retrieve his long lost companion at all costs. Which, he doesn't even succeed at, seeing as to how he keeps snagging the wrong kid every damn cycle.

It's this neglectful nature that spurs on the generational abuse, and in turn, keeps the cycle going. Getting physical isn't the reason abuse exists, it's always been neglect; Physical only comes next either on it's own, or an after effect of neglect. Which is also why I've began to dislike the idea that The Thin Man has good intentions, the moment he is "set free" from his prison.

You can't expect a person to stay sane and clean after spending a lifetime in the belly of a huge beast that's constantly consuming him. And that, I think, is the case of The Thin Man; He is no longer the sweet little boy who just wants to keep his friend safe as much as possible, these intentions of his have been twisted to the utmost extent that he becomes obsessed. Possessive. Isolating.

Keeping his friend safe is no longer the priority, it's just keeping his friend by his side for as long as he can, whether she wants to or not.

As for the relevance of the topic to the comic? This comic is actually just a concept scenario of "What if, he knows who his friend really is, and knows where she lives". But I don't think The Thin Man canonically--nor fully-- is aware of the fact that The Lady might actually be the very person who he's looking for.

He is a paradox caused by his own actions, and his inability to break free from this toxic mindset. After all, the adults of LN are all monsters in their own way. And the most normal looking ones? They're typically the most depraved.

Well, that escalated quickly. Sorry for low quality ✌️

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sheepispink · 15 days ago

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Waking up (repost)

part 6 of supersoldier!reader x tf141/ghost(ghost is main culprit but they’re all there.) SORRY FOR THE RETAG THE POST GOT MESSED UP SO I REPOSTED IT

cw: mention of a seizure, mention of foaming at the mouth, probably some medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies too, gender neutral reader

a/n: this series is sfw nor is there any romantic relations mentioned.

glossary: old codger- an old man who doesnt know what he's talking about or talks crazy

PREV NEXT part one

———

The strength is gone, your pulse is faint and your brain has shut off the map of trains running through your head on a daily basis, everything silent. Except one thing— your memories. The last of your energy is used on tormenting you, day and night or night and day; you don't know what day it is, don't know what’s even happening or if you really are even still alive right now. You’re not even sure when the last dream ended or how long it lasted, all you know is that it’s like a cycle, repeating the gunshot, the whimper of the fox, faint cries of the men you’ve killed, Ghost’s yells, Price’s stern eyes boring into you, Gaz and Soap’s shared laughter and always, always the squeak of the operating table and the rustle of scrubs as the nurse and doctor approach.

It’s torment, repeating over and over with no means of end in the slightest. Whilst before you at least had the temporary relief like the missions with Ghost or even the small conversations with Soap when he made you pay full attention to him, there was nothing now. It feels like months inside of your head even before you got trapped in this cycle, experiencing turmoil even when you were actually awake and living. But this was like everything had crossed the line, the conditions had worsened to the point of no return and now you could barely think in between each flashback. There was no trying to distract yourself when you were headfirst against the enemy; no more preparation as you fight and fight and fight, the battle never ending as you continue to clash but never fully meet the other.

You don't know if you’re breathing, or if your body really is your own right now, the turmoil doesn’t feel real and that’s probably because it isn't. This is just in your head— all a figment of your imagination.

Was any of this real though?

There’s no feeling in your fingers, nor your feet, and weirdly enough you don't really feel any physical pain this time. Not even when the scalpel breaches your skin.

The question returns again. Is this real? Are you real?

Your thoughts are dwindling out.

Is this real?

Are you real?

——————-

Again. You wake in the infirmary. Gaz will come through the doors, comfort you when you panic. Soap will take over— Ghost will yell.

You can't sit up this time. There’s binds around your wrists, around your ankles too. Everything is shrouded in silence, a sterile smell attacking your nose like a threat.

It’s black again now.

——————-

There’s muffled voices, like the day you got shot. Your arm still throbs sometimes, at least it used to, when you were really a person.

It sounds like Price, and you’re sick of his voice. Sounds like Gaz too— that’s good. You think maybe, if you were born a different person, you’d consider him a big brother. Maybe— you don't really know much about what those are, but you’ve heard they’re good people. If you had one, you probably would’ve been safer.

—————-

Flowers. It’s a momentary image that breaks the usual cycle of nightmares— if you even call it that anymore. It’s lavender to be exact. It smells good— somehow you can manage to process that even if you still can't feel it. Your fox used to smell like lavender, when that intern first gave it to you. You’ve never smelt it since it faded off the plush, but you’d never forget it either.

It smells really good.

———

——-

Soap sits before your small bed in the spare room. Originally you were in the infirmary for the sake of fixing up the bad wound on your back. Ghost hadn’t told him all the details, but there wasn't much to ask when he had rushed in with you seizing in his arms and frothing at the mouth. You had forgotten to take one of your monthly medications— according to the calendar in your room you marked completely different dates despite having a reminder right there. It wasn't a serious seizure despite how it sounded but everything to do with you was uncertain, due to the modifications made.

It almost makes him upset, if he’s being completely honest. He spoke with Price about it once, when they had a mission together and they waited overnight in a safehouse. “They’ll never escape the military, will they?” His Captain has shook his head, confirming what Soap already knew to be true but didn't want to actually believe. “If they leave they’ll only die. Too unstable.. thus too reliant on others. Without a handler they’d never regulate themselves properly, even antibiotics can clash with the serum—it could make them severely ill.”

Johnny could get by the usual criminals who deserved a bad beating, or even an innocent family who didn't deserve their end. But this was more— you never really got peace, still living in the torturous cycle until the military deemed you were ‘ready’ to die. It was a fate worse than death, in his opinion. A time ago,he had hoped that he and Gaz could make a difference for you, but he’s not so sure anymore.

———-

Cold air tingled your arms, making the hairs rise and slowly guide you through the barrage of thoughts and memories. You hadn’t blinked once this entire time, but it was too much now, all of these faces and horrors returning. It felt cowardly, almost as if you were giving up everything you knew but you couldn't handle it– seeing all of it again, experiencing it and reliving the trauma. Ghost, he stands before you, but he doesn't speak, his mask staring back at you like a deadly reminder. Your throat bobs nervously, hearing the yell of his command word echo around you. That decides your every action, in and out of battle.

This time it makes you flinch so hard your eyes squeeze shut, terrified more of your lack of freedom than any of the horrors you’ve witnessed since your miserable birth.

—-------------

“Why’s it beepin so loud?! Didn’t they say their heart rate barely ever changes?” Soap shouts, having been extremely frustrated with the lack of any progress regarding your state all week. Price is on a bloody mission, so only him and Gaz are here to handle you this time. It’s been two weeks since you were brought in here, and still there’s not been a single sign of you waking up– only the eerily steady pulse letting them know you’re okay.

“Sir–we’re trying, please, let us do our work.”

“Get off of them.” A cold voice cuts through the room, the heart rate monitor beeping loudly still.

“But sir– the heart is-”

“I’m their handler. Get off of them, now.” Ghost wants to slap their prying fingers away from you, just like he did to the stupid scientist who had the audacity to try and ask him to let him take over your care. The explanation resonated in the silence, as well as the sharp glare the fool received before Ghost had promptly stormed off that day. “Johnny, what’s going on?”

“Their heart rate keeps wavering, Lt.” Soap explains, worried as he walks over to you, still as stone yet your heart is lurching in your chest. “They told Gaz that their heart rate has been altered to stay steady, or even more so than usual.”

“That’s..” He had read the files; it was true that they had attempted to alter how your heart worked and had temporarily made it so that it wouldn’t raise too high and cause issues especially in stressful situations where seconds counted. However, this past week he’s been looking into anything related to you in the slightest. Every file that has scattered his desk has your name on it, every action links back to figuring out more and every night he dreams of the same scene.

“It was true once, yes, only for a mere week though. Now it’s merely a placebo effect to keep them calm enough when things get messy.” He grunts, and Soap just blinks at him, not expecting that answer in the slightest. Really? All that for it to just be a placebo effect? It is true that you’ve never been in a serious condition when you’re unconscious, so it’s clear this whole time your heart rate has never breached the worry point.

“Right, so what the hell are we gonna do?”

Ghost grunts in response, almost jealous of how easily Soap worries over you, like he’s been the one taking care of you since you first entered this base. Though it feels more like a sickening guilt for not being the person he should’ve been. “Just..” He sighs, pulling up the chair that Price usually occupies and slumping into it. “Hold their hand. It’s a nightmare, it’ll pass.”

So he does, his hand gently intertwining with your limp one before rubbing your palm, trailing up to your elbow and then back again. It seemed to be too severe to be a mere nightmare–- the alarms beeping loudly like sirens—and yet somehow your hand twitched for the first time before your heart rate began to lower. Soap lets out a long breath , taking a seat on the edge of your bed, rubbing the back of your hand over and over to soothe the fears you were experiencing. “The doctors would’ve stuck another damn needle in them.” Ghost scoffs, his hands clasped between his knees as his gaze momentarily watches the small rise and fall of your chest.

“How did you know?”

That shouldn't even be a question–Ghost should know every little detail about you down to how you like to tie your shoelaces, not the ignorance he’s been displaying. It fills him with great shame; you were entrusted to him, and he had failed you. “In their files.” He grunts, his gaze fixed on the floor now. You wouldn't even want him to be here right now, but it’s the least he can do and also the most he’s ever done for you.

“Ghost..” Soap begins, looking directly at the Lieutenant. As much as he wants to yell at him for being a complete blockhead, he can't deny that many things have never been in your favour. There’s not many who would’ve given you the chance in life you deserved, and in another life you probably even consider it amazing the Lieutenant even changed his ways. The military wasn't known for its kindness. “Price could’ve done better too; don't take all the blame. Ye know, the only thing that matters is how we fix it. It’s not like you didn't try.”

He had wanted to cut him off, yell about how wrong he was but lord, he wasn’t incompetent enough to not be able to handle a conversation without blowing up. Not like his father. “My ‘trying’ was closer to using ketchup to get a stain out the carpet.” The analogy at least gets a small huff out of Soap, but as much as he wants to laugh too he knows he can't. He doesn't deserve to; you don't deserve to hear that. “If they had that seizure alone.. If they had forgotten their pills for a few days longer.. They’d be hospitalized, Johnny. I did that to them.” His thumbs press against his brows as he lets out a sharp breath, trying to come to the reality of it without wanting to tear open his chest. “I could’ve prevented so much of it. If only I had read those stupid files.”

Johnny sighs, looking down at your arms that have goosebumps littering them– maybe he should shut the window.

—-------

You’ve been shrouded in darkness since you flinched, and you’re afraid to open your eyes. But everything has been so serene this time, in fact you feel awfully tired, the warm kind like you’re in front of a campfire. At least, that’s what you’ve read in books–how fuzzy feelings are usually described.

Maybe you’ll do it this time, brave the darkness rather than be ordered to. Though maybe it’s only because you cannot fathom anything worse than what you’ve experienced than perhaps death itself.

—-----

It’s a Friday night and they don't dare to leave your side in the free time they get. Price is still out, thankfully Gaz has returned though. Right now he’s catching up on some well needed rest, jet lagged to the maximum. Soap’s hand always rests on yours now, and he’s tried to convince Ghost many times to do the same. This time they’ve got a game of chess going, although it’s just on Soap’s phone– his idea too of course. According to him, you might do better with some noise than the usual silence held in this room. Ghost had caved pretty quickly, staring in utter confusion as Soap knocked off yet another one of his pieces.

“Oi– you cannot make that move, you’re lying.”

“Yer just a sore loser, Lt. Admit it, I'm just too good.” His smile grows wide, looking at the lack of possible moves left especially since he had played so well. Ghost finally moves, though not without muttering about there being ‘no point anymore’, and he’s about to play his own move when his hand feels weird. Like.. ticklish? Soap just momentarily glances only to see that your fingers were touching his hand, properly. Grazing gently, your pinky eventually curls around his own. The monitor beeps a little louder, and your pulse seems to rise a little higher. Ghost notices Soap’s distraction, glancing over to see the tiniest hitch in breath and squeeze of your eyelids.

The both of them stay deadly silent, only the soft beeping as your eyes squint open, a few blinks clearing the blur clouding your vision. If you had noticed them by now, you must be ignoring it because you kind of just stare at the ceiling for a few moments before settling on Soap’s hand holding your own. “Kid..? You feeling okay?” Lord, he doesnt know why he even asked that; it was pretty damn obvious you haven't been okay and he can already see Ghost wanting to facepalm.

A small hum is heard from you, a little cracked, but it’s a response. “Yeah.”

“Bet ye starving, ay?” Soap rubs your hand a little more, though still concerned about your small responses. “I’ll get ya some.” He’s about to slide off when Ghost stops him.

“No. I’ll go.”

He stands, heading towards the door— he’s not stupid, he saw how you flinched at his voice breaking out. He has to do it right this time— he has to.

——-

Soap doesn’t let you try to eat yourself, instead scooping up spoonfuls as he sits beside you on the small bed. You’re still hooked up with an iv drip, despite doing a lot better than the first time you were in the infirmary, and you don't attempt to argue with Soap this time. Infact, you’re just really, really quiet. “Drink some water too, kay?” He lifts the bottle up to your mouth, making sure you drink a good amount. Even though you just came out of a coma, you look really, really tired. Your eyes are dull, even more than the usual, and your eyelids hang low, just aimlessly staring at the soft blankets covering you. There’s no scratchy patient dress now, nor paper thin sheets that only serve to keep you cold.

Before this happened, you were a lot more responsive, even attentive, when he talked with you. Him and Gaz would come by some evenings, when all of your tough work was over, and just tell you about absolutely anything and everything. Even with the reputation that precedes you, the excitement on your face was endearing—especially after everything they’ve witnessed you go through. It was a relief that you were actively asking questions, and curious about what else they did.

Now you stayed silent, barely even glancing twice his way as you just followed whatever he decided you needed. Eventually he puts the spoon down, his teeth chewing at his lip as he glances up at Ghost. He’s doing his best not to look at you either, but it’s clear this has to be resolved. And it’s now or never.

Soap slides off the bed, leaving an abundance of space beside you, and walks over to nudge Ghost. “C’mon, you gotta talk to ‘em.”

“Johnny—I’ll only make it worse.”

“Don’t care Lt. Look at ‘em- do ya really think they’ll just get better like this? You said it yourself, things gotta change. Yer gonna have to talk with them properly; they dont have a handler for nothin’.” He pats Ghost’s shoulder firmly, before heading for the door and leaving with a soft click.

Silence fills the space between you two after he leaves, feeling like he’s on a mountain whilst you’re struggling in the mere dirt— back to your square one. “No doctors are allowed in here without one of us here.” He firmly states, not bothering to look at you when he knows that all he’ll see is misery laying in your eyes. “You marked the wrong date for your pills and you had a seizure. So expect to be staying in this room for another month, and you won't have any training or missions either.”

That elicits a response from you, a very obvious one because that’s something you didnt expect in the slightest. “No missions—“

“No. Not like that.” He cuts you off firmly, but not harshly, sighing before he looks up at you finally, only wearing the black balaclava today. “You’re staying right here, in this taskforce. End of story. But you’re also getting the rest your body needs.”

Your eyes narrow, you don't want rest, damnit. Even now after knowing that they definitely wont send you back— if you’re trusting them that is—- you cant physically handle a second of rest any longer. You need movement, stimulation, something to interfere with the silence in your head that eats away at your sanity like a parasite.

He doesnt need to ask you to notice your hesitation though, his own eyes narrowing. “You have nightmares, dont you? We noticed in your sleep.” Silence rings out this time, not a response, only you staring at your hands absentmindedly, the warmth that had ripped you out of it. “Johnny held your hand. It helps, doesnt it? I.. read your files, it said that there was an intern nurse who’d do the same to you. They recommended it in bad situations.” His voice grows softer by the second, unable to keep his harsh edge after everything he now knows. The suffering, the pain, the endless cycle of torture.

Still, there’s no answer, only sheer silence from you. “Alright, i get it. But just because you’re a super soldier.. dont think you dont need it. I need you in top form, everyone needs you in top form. That means even if a pat on the back from him helps, you do it, okay?” He didnt want to be so forward and demanding, changing into something you ‘had’ to do for the sake of the program. But he also knew you were less likely to actually listen unless he did— you ran on the fact that you were still worth something, still worthy of being a soldier. It was lies, you were obviously worthy either way, but he’d do anything to make you okay again.

You nod just slightly and he sighs, stepping up to walk towards the small table on the other side of the room. He returns with his hands clasped, before opening them to reveal the small fox plush you had ripped open during your panic. “Gaz stitched it up and stuffed it. He wasn't sure if you’d hate him for touching it, but he couldn't stand to see it so worn either.” You gently take it in your palms, the little plush the size of your hand and exactly the same as you remember it. Though you're disappointed when you bring it to your nose only for no scent to emanate. “I’ll give him my thanks.”

—————————————

Gaz had passed out as soon as he had gotten home that evening, not even finding out that you had finally woken until lunch the next day. “They’re awake?! Have they said anything?” Ghost stabs at his food awkwardly, and if this was two weeks ago he wouldn’t have even bothered to answer, let alone give out any news about you anyway.

”No. They barely speak.” He states simply, though swallows sharply after, tension hanging in the air between Soap and him. The hope on Gaz’s face falls; he and Soap were only just figuring out the true nature of your being, of the creation you really were. To be honest, all of them had a little bit of hope that you’d just wake up better. You’d be relieved that Ghost had come to his senses, you’d be happy that they were all now treating you like you should’ve been treated— like a human— and all of this mess would just be solved. But that was nothing more than a stupid ideal, like seeing pigs fly. The more they learnt about you, the faster they figured out that nothing was as simple as a minor problem with how complicated you actually were.

“Hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, we should jus’ let time tell.” Soap huffs out, not any more happier about this situation. He felt naive to even believe you had been getting better, and he couldn’t call himself any better than his own LT for not seeing the constant conflict in your head.

————————

Time did tell something, but it was definitely not what any of them were hoping for in the slightest. The days dragged on and still you remained silent, just observing and listening as they came and went. Occasionally they'll ask you questions, and you’d answer them but never anything more. No opinions, no reasoning unless asked and never a question back to them. In short, you were fine to talk, you just didn't hold the conversation. Ghost would’ve let out a sigh of relief if you were like this when you first met him, in fact he’d be so happy to get rid of your questions that he’d probably parade your obedience around the task force. But now everything was different, and he wouldn’t dare ask for your mindless obedience again, and yet he’s received it like some mocking gift, laughing in his face at his selfish actions.

Everytime he looks at the bags beneath your eyes, all he sees is the human crumbling before him—such raw life emanating from you after months that he convinced himself that you’re nothing but a fabrication of a person. Then to hear your plea, not for kindness and lenience–not even to let up his harsh tactics and the death he forces into your hands— just reassurance. You just wanted the safety of knowing a team wouldn’t leave you behind, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t even convinced you of that. As the ranks grew, it grew increasingly harder to trust others; that was the truth in how it worked. But still even the Captain, who had experienced far more than Ghost would ever know, had trusted them, his task force. Ghost trusted you’d do what you were told, it was a known fact, but you couldn’t even trust them enough to know that they never leave you behind so easily.

It disgusts him really, when he looks in the mirror all he feels is pure shame. And it’s even worse when Soap looks at him like that, when Gaz’s face falls to a frown and Price shares a firm glance. He knows– he knows everything he had done to you was inexcusable and yet he still feels like he should feel it more. Every day he wishes he sported the marks of your anger, to even have a reminder of your pain on him, but no you couldn't even do that to him. In all your betrayal and distress, you hadn't even raised your hand once to harm him.

There was one thing you refused to talk about, just looking down or muttering that ‘It doesnt matter’ when the topic arose. Your nightmares. Every time one of them tried to hint at it, your fingers would flex uncomfortably and your gaze would flitter away, begging to escape and yet stuck sitting in that bed until they deemed you okay. Not to mention you were increasingly restless, not only from being bored out of your mind without your daily workout, but you tossed and turned more as each day passed. Everyday your face seems more worn, your eyes duller and losing the life you had struggled so hard to maintain.

—------------

“Evening, kid.” It’s late now, almost eight pm and you’ve been in and out of naps for the entire day, though not without being shaken forcefully by yet another vision. “Captain.” You give him a nod, lowering your head in respect before falling silent once more–it hurts him slightly how you’ve stopped using his first name. However, the dinner that always comes with his visit never follows nor the pills that allow you to get at least three hours of sleep in.

He notices the way your eyes flicker behind him, knowing that you’re exhausted and run down as it is, and just smirks. Sure, it’s true that denying the basic needs from someone who is clearly struggling with themself is probably a bit cruel, but it’s for your own good. He’d be stupid to underestimate you as well; you’d be able to keep up with your normal activities even without a week of food. So he’s not getting any more lenient with you, not even if the pitiful look on your face makes him want to drop everything and buy you every snack you’ve ever wanted. “Thought i told you to call me John? No dinner today, kid. Well unless..”

Your eyes narrow, obviously hungry or, at least, you’ve craving the burst of flavours Soap’s been introducing in all of your meals since you got shot.”Unless what?”

It’s the first time you’ve actively responded since you first woke up a week and a half ago, and the glint in his eye is enough to tell you that he’s glad. “Unless, you tell me about what happened last night. Properly.” He takes a seat at the edge of the mattress, your body language a lot more comfortable than the last time you were injured–they ensured that you wouldn’t be in those sterile rooms again or awake when doctors came by. “I won't sit around and let you do this to yourself, you know.”

“Ghost did.”

Price’s eyes narrow, not oblivious to how fast you had responded this time, as if the words were coming from your heart for once. He hates that you’re right too, since Ghost had confided in all of them the interaction you had, knowing it was only right that he didnt hide what he had done. This should never be about him anyway; it was about helping you. “Everyone knows you’re hurting. I know you’re acting–”

“I’m not acting.” You say blankly, just staring at him now and he blinks, not expecting you cut him off. Of course, you must’ve been, how else would none of this affect you—at least how would this not affect the blank look on your face? The effects were clear from your body’s reactions, but you never expressed it emotionally.

“So you’re tellin’ me that you don't care that you’re on the verge of sleep every waking second and you still can't get any?” That makes your eyebrows twitch just slightly, your eyes glancing at the window again, like you always do when the conversation turns anyway near this way.

“Just..” He says slowly, reaching out to rub your leg over the thin blanket covering you– he makes a mental note to get you a thicker one. “Tell me,kid. Talk to me, please. I want to know, what pushed you into that state? I know it was Ghost but missions have never had that bad effects on you.” You’re still quiet and he takes his hat off, like he had done last time he tried to comfort you, placing it to the side whilst he pulled out a container of food from his bag. “Please.”

His tone makes your gut ache, your heart throb, and your brain hurt from the conflict inside of you. So you do, you tell him. From how you overheard them that day, and thought they’d send you back, when you decided to purposefully harm yourself so you couldn't fight properly but you just kept going, even to how you woke up on the floor in your room after blacking out post battle. It’s now or never, so you let it all spill now the band aid been ripped off, explaining how your mental state grew worse when they told you to recuperate, unable to distract yourself from the constant distress until you spiralled to a point of no return.

He listens carefully, not interrupting for a second or pulling strange faces except for the softening of his eyes and the occasional narrowing too. You appreciate that, someone whose willing to just sit and listen without giving pities you dont need. That’s never what you’ve needed. “You’re so strong.” Is the first thing he says, and it almost startles you, wondering if that’s all he had actually taken away from it. You didnt feel strong, but perhaps in his head, he meant you were capable. And you were— you could take all those blows and you were still here, but you werent strong, no. You were weak.

“To be able to starve yourself of food and sleep, just to fight for yourself. It’s admirable. Though not something i’d want you to do, obviously.” He chuckles softly, watching your eyes that train on him. His finger reaches forward, gently prodding in the middle of your chest, where your ribs lay. “You have will power; that’s the rawest form of strength, and not something to look down on. Forget your abilities, and the modifications, that is what is keeping you alive.”

“What?”

You blurt it out, because you quite literally cannot believe his words in the slightest. It doesn't make sense— at all. The modifications, all the effort and tests they ran on you.. wasn't the reason for all you’ve done?

“Don't look at me like I'm a crazy old codger.” He laughs, properly and runs his fingers through the messy locks of your hair, straightening them out before sitting back properly again.

“It’s true. But that doesn't excuse anything, what Ghost did was wrong. We were all wrong too. We should’ve noticed and stepped in, we were just glad you were okay after everything.” He sighs, giving you a fond look that you just nod at, and he notices you don't take too well to sympathies. “Last night though.. you scratched yourself badly again. Why didn't you speak to us before? Why now?”

That’s what pushed him over the line, he could stand not pushing your boundaries if you wouldn't talk about the nightmares. This was the truck all over again, sending you into a frenzy where you hurt your own self. It was visible, the long red scratches on your neck and disappearing down your shirt. They also lay on your face too, the skin raw and healing with time.

“I..i’ve been different— after what..happened. It’s happened once before.” You explain, making his eyes narrow in concern since he never heard of you shifting like your demeanour suddenly had.

“I passed out during my torture training once,” Your words are slow, reliving the memory yourself. “When I woke, it was like I was back to the first serum the doctors gave me. I couldn't react, my face was a blank slate and.. my mind was running at rampant speeds, i couldn't think straight. It was only until a week after the training that I snapped out of it, waking up with scratches on my face..”

It seemed to Price like this was some sort of fight or flight sequence, forcing you into quiet submission but to never make any sense of reaction, specifically engineered for high stress level situations such as torture. To think what Ghost had pushed you to was comparable to torture was a hard pill to swallow, but he had to ignore it for now.

“So you.. you werent really here for the past few weeks, until recently i guess.”

You nod slowly, agreeing to his words but he can still tell you’re conflicted, stuck in that middle ground of fighting for your sanity and trying not to get hurt in the process. “The priority is your sleep—if we can get rid of the nightmares, your state of mind will fix itself.”

He’s right, but you refuse to take the proposal the others want. They had offered it last week, having Soap sleep on a bed beside you, not directly but just enough for his presence. Apparently during your coma, he had held your hand, and that’s why sometimes you had actually only seen darkness and not the horrors that lay waiting. But.. it seemed wrong to use him like that, just for your sake. Besides, as much as you may have warmed up to them before, you didn't entirely trust them right now. Speaking with Price was out of pure necessity, since you really weren't going to get any better if you kept trying to push through these nightmares on your own. But apart from that, you didn't feel that curiosity anymore, that need to be involved with them and have an actual team. Infact, facing Ghost felt so difficult sometimes that you wished they would just command you to listen, let life leave your eyes and let the thoughts fade. It sounded so much easier, a dream really. But maybe that was too easy of a way out for you, and the Ghost loved to torture it seemed.

Price watches the thoughts move behind your eyes, how hard you’re deciphering his words despite how you should be too exhausted to speak. It amazes him, and yet sickens him too. No one should be like this.

“How about something else..hm? You ever slept with something really warm?”

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

buy me a coffee!

PREV NEXT

a/n: another chapter will be coming in the following day or so!! this chapter ending up being 5.7k words so i decided to split it up. Next one will likely be around 3k. Thank for the support!!!!

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x you #task force 141 x reader #call of duty x reader #cod fanfic #simon riley angst #cod angst #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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fatliberation · 4 months ago

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Sorry for leaving this in your inbox, but I need to vent and ask for advice in a place where people won't mock me. What do you do when sex is super difficult because of your fat? I've recently gotten into my first relationship and. I thought I had a handle on my internalized fatphobia and self hate but this has made it worse than ever. We can't have satisfying penetrative sex (we've tried all the tips and workarounds. Nothing works. I'm larger than most of the FA community.), and recieving oral sex is also difficult for me. I also get tired and sweaty extremely quickly if I have to like hold up myself on mostly my arms or something, so he has to do most of the work. So sex is just. Mostly the one that works on repeat, and we don't have it very often because it isn't that fun for either of us, and it also makes me cry afterwards sometimes because of how disappointing it is & me beating myself up over it.

I'm genuinely worried my boyfriend is going to leave me for this. He's clearly very frustrated with the situation, even though he tries to be nice about it most of the time. Earlier today I tried to like be flirty and hint at stuff and he just. got a bit sad. and then said that clearly neither of us enjoy the sex we're having and that he has a lot of trouble staying hard.and that he doesn't see the point when we're both forcing it for no reason. I think he's going to break up with me soon. His ex is way lighter than me, so he's probably comparing the normal sex he had with her with whatever the fuck this abnormal shitshow is :/

All the work I've done on myself to be happy with being fat (including working up the courage to date, what a mistake that was lmao) is all gone. This has ruined my self-esteem so much. I feel like one of those fatphobic jokes but a person.

first and foremost, please try your best to remember this: your body is not the problem. one more time. your body is not the problem. I'm so very sorry you're concerned that your boyfriend would leave you over this. it sounds like he has a lot of preconceived ideas about how sex is supposed to go. I promise you that it doesn't have to be this way. if this is something that could really end the relationship, know that this person is not compatible or open to exploring your needs, rather than your needs being "too difficult." I promise it's him, not you. I know folks who are 600+ pounds who have excellent sex lives and partners who satisfy them and enjoy satisfying them. when someone starts treating your pleasure like a chore, that's just shitty. I know how much it hurts. it also does damage to your own openness to pleasure. when you're caught up in feeling like sex/your body is something that needs to be "fixed," nothing is going to feel sexy, because all that pressure puts stress on and takes you out of the mental state where you're able to experience pleasure. does that make sense? so many couples get stuck in this cycle.

there are so many ways to engage in pleasure without penetration or orgasm. there's a lot that goes into foreplay, setting a mood, making your partner feel appreciated and attractive. words and touch play a huge part in this. something as simple as exploring each other's bodies, not with the intention of reaching climax, but simply to be vulnerable and engage each others' senses. have your partner give you a massage. play with your hair. tickle your back with a feather. shower together. kiss you. compliment you. if either of you are into any kinks or dirty talk, that could be a great way to engage each other sexually without the pressure of "achieving" a goal. the goal here is just to feel good, close, and connected. societal messaging about sex has placed so much importance on orgasm instead of pleasure - when taking the time and space to relax and receive attention, is key.

feel free to check out my other posts on fat sex ed, there's lots of assistive toys that can make pleasure more accessible, but I think that should be a tool for later, since the biggest issue here is the pressure to perform. know that pleasurable sex can exist for you! but for now, I would recommend taking a break from sex altogether since it is not pleasurable for you right now. because pleasure is the whole point. forcing it is only going to feel worse. you do not owe it to your boyfriend, especially if it doesn't feel good and is taking an emotional toll. I hope you both are able to take a step back, reassess and communicate, and are able to reconnect and create a safe space to explore.

I understand why you're beating yourself up over this, I've been there too. but also know that it's just another societal standard that's been internalized (and it doesn't sound like your boyfriend is helping). like you said, you've done a lot to unlearn fatphobia. there's a lot of internalized beliefs we absorb from society surrounding sex, just like body image. I promise that there is nothing wrong with you. If your boyfriend takes his frustration out on you instead of making you feel safe to express your needs, then he's not a supportive partner. you deserve someone who takes delight in your pleasure and your body. believe me, we're out there.

#fat pleasure is fat liberation #fat sex ed #fat sexuality #fat liberation #inbox

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seungminsbaldspot · 8 months ago

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Six Years, Five months and Two days | FIVE X READER

pairing: five hargreaves x reader

Word Count: 3805

Genre: angst

General Notes: Lila x Five did happen here folks :/, sexual themes, crude language, this does not correlate with whatever happens during seasons 4 other than Lila and Five jumping into a different timeline together for seven years, Reader is referred to as female and wife

Trigger Warnings: Infidelity and Betrayal: References to an affair and its emotional fallout, Emotional Turmoil: Repeated cycles of using others for support followed by pain, Unwanted Pregnancy: Discussion of a potential pregnancy with uncertain paternity, Conflict and Blame: Arguments and blame related to the affair and its effects,Intense Conversations: Emotional discussions filled with guilt, regret, and frustration, Relationship Breakdown: Decision to take a break from a relationship due to ongoing issues, and Self-Destructive Patterns: Seeking comfort in a way that leads to more distress.

Author’s note: I think if I could give this fic a song, I think it would be 'don't speak - no doubt’

Taglist:(comment if you wanna be added) @fate-posts

Spoiler: All you get is, there will be a part 4

Click here for part four !

Click here for the previous part two!

It's been a few weeks of this cycle: you using Five whenever the loneliness and anger become too much to bear, then pushing him away, crying in the aftermath, and repeating the cycle. Each encounter is a mix of bitterness and need, a desperate attempt to fill the void left by his betrayal while simultaneously punishing him for it.

Every time, you find solace in his presence, yet the relief is fleeting. The passion you once shared has become a battleground, where your emotions clash and your pain is laid bare. Afterward, as you watch him leave, you are left with a profound sense of emptiness, the tears you shed a stark reminder of the unresolved hurt that still lingers.

Even though this cycle is far from ideal for either of you, it has provided a certain measure of relief. Diego and Lila seem to be finding their way back to happiness, and as for you and Five—well, you’re not divorced, but it's hard to say if what you share can still be called a marriage.

It’s more of a fuck-buddy system now, with you being the only one reaching out. You start to wonder if Five ever gets tired of this arrangement. A flicker of sympathy for him crosses your mind, but it quickly fades when you remember the betrayal. He cheated on you—with his brother’s wife.

A knock on your bedroom door reels your out of your thoughts.

You open the bedroom door to find Lila standing there, her expression a mix of concern and resolve. She’s dressed casually, but there’s a seriousness in her posture that catches your attention.

“Hey,” she begins, her voice tentative but steady. “I was wondering if we could talk.” You nod, stepping aside to let her in. She walks into the room, glancing around as if taking in the remnants of your own turmoil. You close the door behind her, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Lila takes a seat on the edge of your bed, her eyes meeting yours with a searching look. “I know things have been... complicated between us,” she starts, her voice gentle. “And I know that everything with Diego and Five has been tough on you. But I think it’s time we had an honest conversation.”

You sit down across from her, your mind racing with the possible reasons for her visit. Her sincerity and the weight of her words prompt you to brace yourself for what’s to come.

“First off, I want to say I’m sorry,” Lila begins, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry for allowing what happened to happen.”You throw your hand up, shaking your head in frustration. “It takes two to tango, Lila. It wasn’t just you. It wasn’t just him.”

She nods, her eyes reflecting a mix of guilt and regret. “I know, but still…” She trails off, lost in thought for a moment. After a deep breath, she looks at you with a conflicted expression. “I’m not sure if telling you this is going to be a good idea.”

Your eyebrows furrow, curiosity and concern mingling in your gaze. “What do you mean? If there’s something you need to say, just say it.”

Lila hesitates, her eyes darting away, and then finally meets your gaze again. “I think I’m pregnant.”

The words hang heavy in the air between you, each syllable carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken fears and uncertainties. You stare at her, your mind racing as you try to process what she’s just said. The room feels suddenly smaller, the tension could be cut with a knife .

I—” You start, but no words come out. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Are you sure?” Lila nods, her expression a mix of fear and resignation. “I’ve taken a few tests, and they’ve all been positive. I haven’t told Diego yet. I wasn’t sure how or when to bring it up.”

You run your hand through your hair, sitting in silence and shock. The room feels like it’s closing in around you. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how far along I am. And there may be a slight chance… that… Five could maybe be the father.”

The weight of her words lands heavily on you, the implications sprawling out in every direction. Your mind races through the possibilities, each one more tangled and complicated than the last.

“Five?” you repeat, trying to grasp the full extent of what she’s saying. “You think… there’s a chance this could be Five’s baby?” Lila’s eyes are filled with a mix of regret and uncertainty. “I don’t know for sure, but I dunno, with the timing of everything, It could be his.”

You sit in stunned silence, struggling to process the revelation. “This is... a lot. I mean, Five and I, we’ve been—”

“Using each other,” Lila finishes for you, her voice barely a whisper. You sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the revelation. “This—this is a lot, Lila. I don’t even know what to say,” you admit, feeling utterly defeated.

She nods, her eyes reflecting her own fear and regret. “I know... I’m sorry. I just wanted to be honest. I’m terrified of what this means for Diego and me, and for you and Five.”

You shake your head, trying to wrap your mind around the enormity of what Lila just shared. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this, Lila.” Your voice is steadier than you feel, masking the chaos that’s erupting inside of you.

Lila takes a deep breath, her hands twisting in her lap. “Because you deserved to know the truth. I thought... maybe if we’re honest with each other, we can figure out what to do next.” Her voice wavers, but there's a glimmer of determination in her eyes.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound escaping before you can stop it. “And what exactly is there to figure out, Lila? We wait. We wait for this child to grow enough to get a paternity test, and then we deal with whatever the hell happens afterwards.”

Lila flinches at the harshness of your words, her expression a mix of guilt and resolve. “I know it’s not that simple,” she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But what else can we do? I just wanted to be honest with you, to try and make things right somehow. I don’t want any more secrets between us.”

You shake your head, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. “You think being honest makes up for any of this? You think it undoes the fact that you two fucked?” Your words come out sharper than you intended, the anger being unable to be contained.

Lila's face crumples, her eyes welling up with tears as she looks down, unable to meet your gaze. “No,” she admits, her voice trembling. “I know it doesn’t make up for it. I know it won’t change what happened. But I can’t keep pretending like it didn’t happen, either. I’m trying to face it, to deal with it... even if it means facing you like this.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair as you try to keep your emotions in check. “You want to face it? Fine. But I can’t pretend this makes us friends or whatever. You broke something—something that can’t just be fixed with a sorry and some honesty.”

Lila nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know. I’m not asking for forgiveness... I’m not even sure I deserve it. I just wanted to be truthful, to at least try and do the right thing for once.”

You look at her, seeing the raw emotion in her eyes, the genuine remorse etched across her face. For a moment, your anger softens, replaced by a heavy, painful understanding. She’s just trying to figure everything out too, struggling to navigate the chaos and consequences of her actions, just like you. But it doesn’t erase the fact that she played a big part in all of this, that her choices have led to this mess that now binds all of you together.

Still, there’s a part of you that wants to hold onto the anger, to use it as a shield against the hurt and betrayal. Yet, seeing her like this, vulnerable and regretful, you can’t help but feel a flicker of empathy. Maybe she doesn’t deserve forgiveness, but neither of you deserve this situation either.

You exhale slowly, trying to push away the conflicting emotions that swirl inside you. “Look, Lila,” you say, your voice more steady now, “I get that you’re trying to do the right thing. And I get that you’re scared. Hell, I am too. But I can’t just pretend like everything’s okay because you decided to come clean.”

Lila nods again, swallowing hard. “I know,” she whispers. “I don’t expect things to be okay. I just… I need you to know the truth. I thought it was the least I could do.”

You let out another sigh, feeling the weight of her words settle over you like a heavy blanket. “Yeah…” you murmur, trailing off as the enormity of the situation sinks in. Lila takes a deep breath, her gaze shifting nervously before she speaks again. “Do you think you could... tell Five for me?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Why in the hell would I do that?” you snap, unable to hide your frustration.

Lila bites her lip, her eyes filled with a mix of desperation and vulnerability. “Because I’m scared,” she admits softly. “I don’t know how he’s going to react, and I don’t think I can handle another confrontation right now.”

You stare at her in disbelief, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re scared?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly. “Lila, I’m barely holding it together myself. You think I want to be the one to tell him that there’s a chance he might be the father? That’s your issue to deal with.”

She flinches at your words, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I get it, I do,” she says quietly, her voice trembling. “But I thought... maybe he’d take it better coming from you.”

You shake your head, frustration boiling over. “That’s because I’m his wife, Lila. Or at least, I was before all this happened,” you snap. “But I’m not your messenger, and I’m certainly not going to be the one to clean up your fuck-ups.”

Lila flinches again, your words hitting her like a physical blow. Her eyes brim with fresh tears, but she blinks them back, trying to hold herself together. “I know,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I know this is my mess. I just… I thought maybe… since you know him better…”

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, your frustration reaching its peak. “Don’t you dare put this shit on me,” you snap, your voice cold and unyielding. “I didn’t cause this mess, and I’m not going to be the one to clean it up for you. You made your choices, Lila. Now you have to deal with them.”

Lila’s face crumples, her composure breaking under the weight of your words. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve hurt you. I know I’ve hurt Diego, and now this… I just don’t know how to fix it.”

You feel a mix of anger and pity as you look at her, sitting there so lost and broken. Part of you wants to scream at her, to make her feel the full weight of the pain she’s caused. But another part of you, a quieter, more compassionate part, recognizes her remorse and the fear in her eyes. She’s struggling, just like you are, caught in a situation that has spiraled out of control.

“Lila,” you say more calmly, though your voice still holds a steely edge, “I’m not the one who can make this right. You need to talk to Diego. You need to talk to Five. You need to deal with this. I can’t do it for you. I won’t.” She nods, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re right,” she says quietly. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll… I’ll figure it out. I just… I’m sorry.”

There’s a long pause, the silence between you heavy and loaded with unspoken emotions. Finally, you sigh, feeling some of the tension leave your body. “Just… be honest with them,” you say softly. “That’s all you can do now.” Lila nods, her expression a mix of determination and fear. “Thank you,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “For listening. For… for everything.”

Without another word, she turns and leaves the room, the door closing softly behind her. You stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, feeling a whirlwind of emotions—anger, frustration, sadness, and a tiny, flickering ember of hope. Maybe, somehow, things could start to heal. Maybe, with time, you could all find a way forward. But for now, all you can do is take it one step at a time.

A little while later, another knock breaks the silence, pulling you from the depths of your thoughts. You’ve been sitting alone in the quiet room, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You feel drained, the emotional toll of the last conversation still fresh, and the last thing you want is another confrontation.

With a weary sigh, you stand and cross the room to open the door. On the other side, Five stands there, his expression tight with worry. His eyes quickly scan you, taking in your disheveled appearance and the exhaustion etched across your face.

"Hey," he says, his voice unsteady but low. He looks you up and down again, as if searching for some clue to your state of mind. You sigh, “What hell do you want?” He sighs, running his hand through his hair, “Lila told me.”

You stand there, feeling the weight of his words. “She told you?” you echo, trying to keep your voice steady. Five nods, his face a mixture of concern and frustration. “Can I come in?” he asks quietly.

You sigh, stepping aside to let him in. As he crosses the threshold, you can’t help but feel a lingering, complicated affection for him, despite everything that’s happened.

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and you sit down beside him, the space between you feeling both intimate and charged with unresolved tension. Five runs a hand through his hair, his eyes meeting yours with a pained expression. “I have no fucking idea what to do,” he admits, his voice heavy with frustration.

You stifle a laugh, the sound coming out more like a bitter chuckle. “Welcome to the fucking club,” you reply, your tone laced with a mix of sarcasm and resignation. The absurdity of the situation is almost too much to bear, and yet, there’s a part of you that appreciates his honesty and vulnerability.

Five’s expression softens slightly, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “So what now?” he asks, his voice quieter. You chuckle again, “Who’s ‘we,’ Five? Last time I checked, it only takes two to make a baby,” you reply, your tone reflecting the harsh reality of the situation. The words hang between you.

Five looks down, clearly grappling with the weight of your words. “I know,” he says quietly, his voice heavy. “I just... What if it is mine?”

You shrug, the gesture feeling as heavy as the conversation. “Then you’d be the father,” you reply coldly. Your tone is blunt, a reflection of the emotional exhaustion you’re feeling—tired of crying, tired of being upset.

He groans, “No fucking shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do? What are we going to do?” He gestures between the two of you, his frustration clear.

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your own emotions in check. “Look, Five,” you begin, your voice firm but weary, “The only thing you, Lila, and Diego can do is wait. Wait for the baby to be old enough to take a paternity test.

He sighs but nods, “Sorry for getting angry at you.” You shrug. unsure of what to say. At this point, words seem inadequate. The situation is so far beyond simple apologies and explanations. You just nod, acknowledging his apology without feeling the need to respond.

The silence that follows is heavy, charged with the weight of your shared pain. Five’s eyes linger on your face, his concern cutting through the tension. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice betraying a genuine worry despite the strained circumstances.

You almost laugh, the irony and frustration bubbling to the surface. “Yeah, I’ve been so fucking good,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Since the day I learned my husband cheated on me with his brother’s wife, and now that said wife might be carrying said husband’s baby.” You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. “Everything’s just perfect.”

Five's face tightens with guilt and sorrow as he processes your words. “I’m really sorry,” he says quietly, his voice filled with regret. “I never wanted any of this to happen. I know that’s not enough, but I’m trying— Fuck, I’m trying so fucking hard to make you forgive me.” He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his movements.

You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off, his voice rough and strained. “I’m trying, alright? I’m here, doing whatever fucked-up shit you need me to do. I thought maybe I could help in some way, even if it’s just by being here for you. But it feels like nothing I do is right. I don’t know how to fix this or if I even can. I’m just fucking lost.”

He pauses, his eyes searching yours for any sign of redemption or understanding. The frustration and self-loathing in his voice are palpable. You can see the weight of his guilt and regret hanging heavy on him, his attempts to fix things feeling futile and exhausting.

You look away from his intense gaze, the depth of his pain hitting you hard. “I just really fucking love you, alright?” he says, his voice cracking with raw emotion. He reaches out, gently cupping your cheek and turning your face towards him. The touch is tender, almost desperate, as if he's trying to hold on to the last remnants of what you once shared. His eyes, filled with a mix of hope and anguish, search yours for some sign that his words have made a difference.

You feel the warmth of his hand against your skin, the contact both comforting and excruciatingly painful. The depth of his plea and the sincerity in his touch make your heart ache, caught between the love you still feel and the hurt that's been inflicted. His gaze is unwavering, his desperation to mend what’s broken evident in the way he holds your face, as if afraid that if he lets go, he’ll lose you completely.

You sigh, your eyes closing briefly as you gather your thoughts. Slowly, you grasp his wrist and pull it away, creating a necessary distance between you. “Five,” you begin, your voice weary but resolute, “I can’t keep doing this. This is too fucking painful.”

He looks at you, confusion and hurt mixing in his eyes. “What are you saying?” he asks, his voice trembling slightly.

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words amidst the storm of emotions. “I think we need to take a break," you say, your voice quiet but firm. "This situation... it's too complicated, too messy. We both need time to figure things out, especially with everything that's happening with Lila." You pause, meeting Five's gaze, "I can't keep letting myself be hurt by you."

His expression shifts, a mix of shock and sadness settling in. “A break?” he repeats, his voice barely audible. You nod, your resolve firm despite the emotional weight of the moment. “Yes, a break.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

He looks at you, confusion and hurt mingling in his eyes. “We’ve never done anything like this before…” he states, his voice trailing off as he searches your face for some hint of a different solution.

You nod, unable to meet his gaze. It hurts, it hurts really fucking bad. You love this man—or loved him? You aren’t too sure anymore. You’ve been through so much together, and the thought of putting distance between you feels like a stab to the heart.

You finally look up, your voice breaking with raw emotion. “I think it’s— it’s for the best.”

You can see the pain in Five's eyes, the way his shoulders slump at your words. He takes a shaky breath, his voice cracking as he struggles to hold back tears. “If that’s what you need...” he begins, but his words trail off, unable to complete the thought. The weight of your decision hangs heavily in the air between you.

You look away, unable to bear the sight of him in such distress—the man you love - broken by your own choices. It’s a painful reminder of the betrayal that brought you to this point, and your heart aches even as you try to stay firm.

Five sighs deeply, gathering himself as he rises from the bed. He walks slowly toward the door, each step heavy with resignation. “I guess I’ll keep you updated on anything that happens with Lila and the baby,” he says, his voice a whisper, almost like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.

You nod, the gesture feeling hollow as you wave him off. “Yeah, okay,” you reply, your tone subdued. As he exits, the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet room.

#the umbrella academy season 4 #tua five #tua season 4 #tua s4 #tua #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves #five x reader #number five #hargreeves siblings #brisket five #sbs posting #tua fanfic #tua fandom #five x lila #five x y/n #five x you #five hargreaves x you

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the-impulse-to-love · 7 days ago

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so. house veridian and feathered host

ive been thinking more n more ab the "divide" betwen house veridian and feathered host. and with the two songs off of EIA about the consequences of fame, i'm inclined to believe it relates to that.

more specifically:

house veridian represents the desire to push forward with the band; they must "endure" feelings of burnout

vessel (and the others ofc) care about the fanbase. this much is evident from the music and rituals. something something damocles something something him apologizing for not always being able to deliver his best. he wants to deliver out of love and care, but it's difficult since he's ultimately a person who struggles with his own problems and stress. nonetheless, he's trying to endure.

"the house" can also refer to the fanbase and community. collectively, we have to endure any setbacks or incidents within the fandom (such as. the whole thing with caramel) by reflecting and improving our behaviour as fans. for instance, respecting the band's boundaries which is something they explicitly asked for in caramel. hell, the house might collapse if we can't get our shit together.

the idea of fight (fight vs flight). fight is actively engaging with the issue at hand and figuring out how to beat it/work around it.

so, "enduring" is more so figuring out how to overcome negative thoughts and make the whole process (songwriting, touring, etc) more healthy for everyone involved. bc it's clear with damocles and caramel that it is taking a toll on vessel (and the band).

whereas

feathered host represents the desire to stop; the desire to "break the cycle"

the cycle in this case likely refers to what vessel described in damocles: "and i play discordant days on repeat / till the tape runs out on me," or he has to replay his struggles in his mind to adequately write about them. this is obviously draining.

it can also refer to music industry itself and consumerism, in which artists are often treated as a mere tool to pump out content and generate revenue. we know that sleep token also has some sorta exclusive licensing deal with rca, likely meaning they have more control than the standard artist with their work. (good for them!)

however, it's still a cycle of consumerism and the band is expected to pump out songs and go on tours and whatnot, both by the fans and the music industry.

so, breaking the cycle could either mean stopping the band altogether (which. i honestly don't think will happen for the foreseeable future. this would be in a very literal sense). rather, i think it is finding a better way to navigate making content in which the tiring cycle is broken, or at least minimized so it takes less of a toll on everyone involved. breaking a cycle doesn't mean the extreme option has to be taken.

as for tying into the idea of "flight" (fight vs flight), it would mean escaping the problem at hand which. isn't a bad thing. it's alright to take a step back and take a break, yk?

and i don't think either of these are ultimately Bad Decisions, you know? it wouldn't really make sense to have the fans vote like that for either as well...

instead, i think it's a struggle to find balance between the two ideas.

how do you sustain something you care so deeply about even if it drains you? do you stop altogether? do you take a break? do you just push on and hope it gets better?

if this idea is true, i don't think there will be a clear "winner” with the two sides. rather, they're two ideas that can coexist, but it's just a matter of how.

how can the band and community be sustained/endure while breaking the cycle of consumerism and creative exploitation?

and it's a collaborative effort. we, as fans, have to sorta realize how to be more respectful towards the band and understand that they're ultimately People.

so. basically i'm inclined to believe this might be the theme of EIA. obviously, we still have seven songs left (maybe even the bonus tracks) but. Just A Theory

#sleep token #maris sleepy analysis #even in arcadia #feathered host #house veridian #sleep token theory #long post

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whenmemorydies · 3 months ago

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The restaurant could be good.

Why did Syd call herself an accomplice in 3x05 Children?

I was re-reading @yannaryartside's fantastic meta about this (and you should too) and it got me thinking. In their meta, OP asks:

Is Syd (or her leaving) supposed to be a wake-up call to Carmy? That he fucked up something that brought him genuine joy and connection because Syd knew the real him, while Claire liked Logan and Carmy's brokenness? The way Claire would enable him in his bad tendencies? How is he gonna realize all that?

Honestly, I don't know what these writers have planned for how Carmy comes to the realisation that season 3 Carmy is not it lol. But I have one suspicion about how it might go, and it has less to do with Carmy and more to do with Syd.

We have to go back to season 1 where it all started. Where Sydney met Carmy and articulated within the first three episodes of the show, her hopes for her future and the future of The Beef.

Recall 1x02 Hands and the convo between her and Richie in Richie's car:

Sydney: You know the restaurant could be good. Like I know you know that. Like it doesn't have to be a place where the food is shitty, and where everybody acts shitty and feels shitty. Like it could be a good legit spot.

Cut to season 3, after Syd and Carmy have overhauled the restaurant and everyone is...well...acting shitty, feeling shitty and the food is looking like a damn mess:

Also recall the alley chat in 1x03 Brigade:

Sydney: You know, I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But in order for that to be true, we need to run things different.

Then cut to season 3 where we have EC Carmy decidedly not running things different at The Bear. Instead, he repeats toxic communication and management styles from his past:

Recall 1x05 Sheridan and Sydney's vulnerability with Carmy about why she started her catering business, Sheridan Road, after leaving the restaurant scene:

Sydney: Like it was the first time I didn't have a complete and utter psychopath behind me screaming, and pushing and yelling, and I thought I wanted that, you know?

Cut to season 3 and, well, you know the drill: behold our fav Executive Jeff acting like an utter psychopath and partaking in some screaming, pushing and yelling.

So what happened in season 3? Why have things gone in almost the exact opposite direction of what Sydney hoped for in season 1?

To my mind, the answer to that question lies in season 2 and what both Syd and Carmy were doing during that season. Yes, Syd spent most of season 2 setting up the restaurant alone while Carmy played hooky with Claire. But what was more striking to me was the contrast in effort that both of them put into actually doing things different at the restaurant (as per their pledge to each other during the alley chat of 1x03 Brigade).

Breaking cycles

I agree with @yannaryartside: Carmy playing hooky with Claire in season 2 was him numbing himself (i.e. Claire is the drug that he was addicted to for this purpose). I also reckon he was using Claire as another way to keep Mikey in his life - a reverse-engineered haunt - particularly while the most obvious physical manifestation of Mikey in the present day (The Beef itself) was being transformed into something else entirely. That kind of change - that kind of loss - couldn't have been easy for Carmy, particularly as The Bear was something he had wanted to open with this brother in the first place. I get why Carmy would "self-medicate" with Claire to try and numb some of the pain he may have felt, I really do.

But while Carmy was spending so much of his time either avoiding or dulling his pain, it meant he had little time or energy for working through these things. We know that he has been making attempts at this particularly in relation to his familial trauma and grief (as evidenced by his attendance at Al-Anon meetings). But throughout seasons 1-3 we see almost no work on Carmy's part to address the abuse and trauma that he's experienced in professional kitchens. We do not see him trying to prepare himself for the task of leading an entire restaurant. The first and only time we see Carmy start this process is in the last episode of season 3, when he bravely confronts Chef David Fields at the funeral dinner for Ever.

Now admittedly, Sydney does not have the history of familial abuse that Carmy does. But as discussed above, she does share a history of professional abuse in the restaurant industry with him. Its why the two of them make that promise to each other to do things different in 1x03 Brigrade.

To this end, Sydney spends almost all of season 2 working to enhance her leadership skills to make herself better for the staff she'll be leading as CDC of The Bear. Recall her book, Leading with the Heart by Mike Krzyzewski (Chicago-born, Polish-American and hugely successful former basketball coach of the Duke University Blue Devils and the American national basketball team), gifted to her by her father, Emmanuel:

In the beginning of 2x07 Forks, we follow Sydney as she surveys The Bear during renovations and while she works on a menu idea. This opening sequence features the following narration from an interview with Krzyzewski (which reiterates the show's ongoing message that none of us are alone, particularly when we take the time to listen to one another):

The other thing is that you're not gonna get there alone. You know, be on a team. You know, surround yourself with good people and learn how to listen.

You're not gonna learn with you just talking.

And when you do talk, converse. Don't make excuses. Figure out the solution. And you don't have to figure it out yourself.

I always wanted to be part of a team and obviously I wanted to lead that team. You know, [...] what an interesting life it is to be a leader.

The advice Coach K gives in the above monologue is also mirrored in Marcus' eulogy for his mother where he spoke about the importance of listening. It's also gold advice for how to be consistent in relationship to others. I've spoken here about the themes of chaos and consistency on this show and how one of Carmy's battles is understanding that,

[C]onsistency in terms of a product (e.g. a clean kitchen every night or immaculately plated dishes each service) and consistency in terms of relationships are two different things. You can strive for consistent products but destroy all your relationships in the pursuit of them. Conversely, if you strive for consistency in your relationships, you may not always make consistent products (and quite frankly, that's OK - is a perfectly plated agnolotti dish worth Carmy's relationship with Tina? Is driving Syd to a panic attack worth Carmy's pursuit of a star? I think not on both counts).

Sydney took the time throughout season 2 to learn how to be consistent and effective as a leader. She knew - and knows - that simply being an excellent chef is not going to cut it when it comes to running a restaurant and leading a team. This took time and effort on her part but she was committed to making The Bear different to all the other places she'd been at, so she did it. I should also note that Syd did this internal work while menu-planning and trying to push herself culinarily. She was doing so much lifting. Jealousy of Claire aside, I am surprised Syd didn't rip Carmy a new one when he talked about rejigging the menu while at his girl-who's-a-friend's house lmao.

Cut to season 3 though, and Syd is running The Bear with Carmy who has spent the entire season not having put in the work to change the chemistry in their restaurant. Of course Syd tries to counter this as best she can. She runs interference with the team and gently tries to steer the ship. But as she says in 3x09 Apologies, things have been off at The Bear.

So when Syd tells us in 3x05 Children that she's an accomplice, I can't help but feel that in her heart, Sydney believes she's an accomplice in the betrayal of their vision - Sydney and Carmy's shared vision for The Bear - from season 1. The vision she worked so hard during season 2 to bring to fruition.

By season 3, they've betrayed it and each other: family style is no where to be found and The Bear looks and feels like all the other places Syd and Carmy have been at. While exhausting for Carmy ("I'm so fucking sick of this"), this would have been devastating for Syd, given all she's done to try and avoid this outcome. You can understand why she'd consider an offer like Shapiro's (though we know she's not going to take it).

Given the events of 3x10, where Carmy confronts Chef David and has that heart-to-heart with Chef Terry, its clear his perspective on Michelin mode is starting to shift. I think the threat of losing Sydney will scare the shit out of him too. But what I think will prompt Carmy to actually change his behaviour in season 4 is the realisation that he too is an accomplice and has betrayed not just himself but Sydney and their team as well. Season 4 will necessarily need to be told, at least in part, from Syd's perspective so that the impact of this on Syd is made clear to the audience (Storer and Calo, are you listening? Its me, a desperate fan). And once Carmy recognises his role in continuing the traumatic professional legacy championed by Chef Fields, he can get into working through and breaking that cycle. I'll be seated and ready for it.

#sydcarmy #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #the bear meta #the bear season 3

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raayllum · 4 months ago

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The thing (or one of the things) about Ezran in early S7 is that while he's not being unreasonable, he is being hypocritical and unproductive ("You forgave Zubeia"). 7x01 is his breaking point after seasons of trying to keep everyone else together and weathering each conflict in as most an unaffected manner as possible, and he quite simply couldn't do it anymore.

Zubeia sent an assassin to kill your father? You long for your mother so deeply, you don't know your dad is dead yet, you do everything you can to get Zym back home because you love him (you can literally see through his eyes) and because it's the best chance for peace. Forgive her for killing your father and trying to kill you because she was grieving and Zym's dad for killing your mother because he's dead and they miss him. Put all your anger in a box at the one person who actually did kill him, because Zubeia saw her baby and changed her mind, and your found family sister (who is also missing) defected and spared your life that night, and he didn't.

Deny the ugly truths as long as you can by focusing on peace ("I ignored something that was true. I denied something that is undeniable"). Why should you have to acknowledge anger? Can't you just get past that? And then you can't, with the picture. (Then you can't, later, with yourself.)

Rayla comes back and Callum is fighting with her? Forgive and welcome her back unconditionally and try to counsel Callum through his big feelings. Rinse and repeat when Soren and then Zym goes missing. Advocate for and refuse to give up on Rex Igneous until he sends you sprawling into a wall.

Take on the responsibility of negotiating with the dragons. With Finnegrin (you offer up your hand, and so do your friends, your family). Talk your brother out of a more violent solution, and Rayla sides with you. She does again about hiding with the pearl and you save each other's lives. You look after home while she and Callum leave to save the world, and tell Soren the hard truth and deal with Viren till you don't. You try to spare Karim and his forces. You believe in peace. You believe in breaking the cycle.

"I am a king, and as a king, I choose love over strength."

"King of what? King of ashes?"

Ezran looks at what two years of trying to do the right peaceful thing has earned him — a destroyed kingdom while he was away — and he desperately, angrily, grasps at any semblance of control. This can't be all it was for. He feels like he's failed as a king, and is therefore a bad king. He needs to punish Sol Regem for it, but he can't. It needs to be Runaan's 'fault' because Runaan made him a king, even though keeping Runaan chained up in the Banther Lodge basement doesn't do anything but keep another family (Rayla's family) apart and make him feel in control. His pendulum swings so hard and strong, the target of his anger constantly changing to the most recent wound stacked upon themselves. After 7x02, he's not visibly angry at Runaan again until the finale; he's angrier at Callum than he is at Rayla because he thought he had control over his brother ("Callum. High Mage. We need you at this council meeting") even if that shouldn't be the goal or the focus at all anyway.

Callum doesn't betray him just because of Rayla, but because Ezran is perpetuating the cycle in a way that is antithetical to everything all three of them have striven to break, which is exactly what Callum points out to him. (If Rayla had surrendered or Callum had stayed, they just all likely would've been arrested, as it's unlikely Rayla and Runaan would've made it in the boat with Callum's magic, either. Would that have made Ezran, or anyone, feel better, hunting down his brother and friends, bringing them back in chains? No, and only Aanya is brave enough to say it out loud after Ez proves he values his bond with his brother / Callum's life over destroying Runaan's and Rayla's by proxy.)

"Because pain and loss feel so terrible inside, you want to hate. You want to hurt someone else."

What would killing or imprisoning Runaan (again) really have done?

"Hasn't he already been punished enough? Viren trapped him in a cursed coin for years. It's time to set him free." / "How much suffering is enough to pay for the mistakes we've made? No amount of suffering, yours or mine, will ever bring him back."

("As a father, I have a selfish wish, and that is for you and Ezran to be... free.")

"A life for a life. Is that justice?"

We also see that his scene with Runaan is one of the very last in the season. It's been months, if not nine, before Ezran was ready to have that conversation, ready to do with Runaan what he willingly did with Aaravos ("A king must look into the face and hear the words of those he judges"). A few days or a week by Callum's estimate wouldn't have been enough.

Ezran set Terry free to see if they could really trust him. He refused to do the same with Runaan even when it was causing clear pain and fracturing within his own family unit, nor did Runaan come to Katolis to face justice; it was just happenstance. But in Runaan being freed, he was then able to choose to come back to face Ezran's verdict. And then Ezran makes his own conscious choice.

"I'm going to forgive you. I don't know how, but I have to try."

He told everyone else that they had to acknowledge the weight of the pain and loss in their hearts while also holding love. It was hard before. It was hard now. But he has to try.

(Nor does Harrow being in the bird erase the two years of mourning hell that Ezran went through, remove the crown from his brow, make things with Runaan any easier tbh, or mean he's 100% getting his father back.)

#tdp ezran #ezran #let ezran be messy #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp spoilers #s7 spoilers #arc 2 #s7 #mine #mini meta #analysis #sort of #analysis series #but i have to try

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starrysan · 3 months ago

Text

a night to remember

masterlist

(title is indeed a laufey ref)

pairing: zamboni operator!san x figure skater! fem!reader

prerequisites/warnings: cursing, reader overworking, friends to lovers, me horribly naming different ice skating tricks..

a/n: I had this draft sitting here for a good month (in that time I released killin it, and like 3 chapters of nouvelle vague.. sorry san), inspired when I saw someone cleaning with the zamboni and someone was holding onto it on the side so they were like riding the zamboni together ykyk (ty for my friend for giving this idea) also this is 100% inspired by that one scene from Yuri on ice ifkyk

[2.04k words]

1st person pov (y/n)

the clock strikes 12. all my friends were long gone at this point. double axel, toe jump, salchow. I didn't even need my music at this point I had memorized my entire number in my head. just a few more times till I can go hom- "are you almost done?" I hear a voice that shakes me from my thoughts as I pause my skating.

"what?" I ask, taking my headphones out of my ears. "I said, are you almost done? I can't go home till the ice gets cleaned." the voice belonged to the zamboni operator, san? I think his name was? "oh yeah i'll be done in a minute" I say before skating around a bit more and reluctantly getting off the ice. I sit on the bench, taking my skates off, wiping the ice off of them and covering them before putting them back in my skate bag.

"why're you still here anyway? its way past 12" san asks going over to turn the zamboni on. "competitions in a few months and my numbers still.. missing something? I don't know" I reply, now finished packing up my bag. "sorry for keeping you waiting. goodnight san." and with that, I left the rink before exiting the building to the parking lot and getting on my bus.

3rd person pov

san wondered why y/n was freaking out when it seemed like she had so much time but he paid no mind. he cleaned the ice like usual, rounding the zamboni all the way around the ice before parking it and heading home himself. this cycle repeated the next few weeks. she would stay till almost midnight but san didn't mind, he watched her do the same routine ten times over, even enjoyed watching it to. her expression turn into a pout whenever she messed up or forgot something.

y/n noticed san's glances as she skated gracefully along the ice, so much so.. that she was too distracted and she slipped on a crack in the ice and fell over. "fuck" she muttered brushing the ice off her knees. "you okay?" san shouts over the glass covering the rink, y/n giving a thumbs up in response.

after the first week, san realized y/n was going home without getting something to eat and started bringing her little snacks to eat before her multi hour long skate sessions. it started with little snacks like a granola bar or a bag of chips, but it turned into full out meals or the two would grab food before she started her practice.

they got to know each other, san finding out y/n had been ice skating ever since she was a kid. y/n finding out san worked there because his dad was the owner of the rink. the two got close.. really close. to the point where they weren't sure what the two were anymore. y/n was currently in san's apartment laying on his lap on the couch as the two watched their favorite show together.

y/n was back on the ice when monday rolled around. she skated around her body moving before she even had to think. though she seemed to be having a bit of a hard time at practice today, stumbling onto herself. the lack of sleep seeming to having caught up to her.

she was getting yelled at left and right and looked like she was about to break. her instructor had her take a break and she stepped off the ice. she has her head down only poking it up when she senses san presence in front of her. she looks up at him and before either of them say anything san pulls her into a hug to which y/n breaks down in his arms.

she sobs into his shirt for a while before muttering a quiet, "I suck" into his chest. "you don't suck" san whispers back. "I do.. I cant get it right." she sniffles. "y/n look at me" san tells her looking down to meet her gaze as she lifts her head up. "you're so good at what you do. you know that right? even when you were just first learning your routine you'd work on it night after night and wouldn't leave till you perfected it. you can do it you just haven't gotten the rest you need.. which we both know is the main reason. but you can do it so don't tell me you suck because we both know you don't" san finishes.

"okay?" he raises an eyebrow at her. "okay" she says. "thanks san" she says hugging him again. "now go on show me your.. what's it called.. your triple axel." he smiles. she giggles before heading back on the ice. her instructor could sense something changed during her break and turned on her music. she skates around letting herself take in the music she had started getting sick of and instead relaxes herself as she skates doing her routine flawlessly.

she looks at san who gives her a smile and thumbs up in approval as she skates off and packs her stuff up. "our show at your place again? ill buy dinner" she asks as san revs up the zamboni. "yeah of course" he says. "wanna go for a ride?" he offers. "how?" she asks puzzled. "hang on tight" he says as she grabs onto the handle of the zamboni as san starts it up.

"woah" y/n exclaims in surprise as the two circle the ice rink. she sees the marks from the figure 8's she drew in the ice, the lines of chalk she drew to skate in a circle. she watches the marks practically vanish as san goes over them with the zamboni. after he finished cleaning he helped her off the machine before the two head to his place to watch their show. y/n falls asleep there as she usually did.

y/n was having another late night practice session as san watched from the benches. "so do you get to skate for free here?" y/n asks as she skates around. "technically yeah but um.." san pauses. "I don't know how to skate" he admits sheepishly. "no way really?" y/n says in surprise stopping right by the little doorway leading out to the rink.

"my dad gets me skates for Christmas every other year or so but I've never gotten around to using them." he continues. "do you want to learn?" y/n asks. "I think im gonna fall and bump my head" san tries to get out of it but the next thing he knew he was going circles around the ice clinging onto y/n for dear life since she didn't let him use the wall.

"y/n we're skating way too fast" he squeaks but y/n just giggles as they go towards the middle. she lets go of him for a second and he freezes in place as she does a figure 8 on the ice. she looked so elegant and ethereal. she smiles and heads back to him. "try skating to me" she says skating backwards no more than a couple feet away from him.

san shakes his head "im gonna fall" he pouts. "you will if you keep that mindset" y/n scoffs. "I won't let you fall san skate to me" she says. he slowly moves his feet more walking than skating but y/n didn't mind as he waddled his way over to her. "you got it!" y/n exclaims as he grasps her hand again. "okay that's enough for today" san frowns and y/n nods in agreement bringing them to the entrance. "did you have fun at least?" she asks cleaning her skates. he hums in reply. "guess so"

it was officially 2 days till competition day, y/n freaking out was a understatement. "y/n you're pacing so much you might burn off the carpet" san chuckles nervously as she paced around his apartment. "sorry i'm nervous as hell" y/n admits. "y/n you're gonna do great" he smiles. "I keep fucking up my triple axel.. what if I fall on the ice in front of everyone?" she says in almost fear. "or.. what if you do so good you get a standing ovation?" san counters. "we both know that's not happening" she sighs. "you never know" he smiles.

finally.. finally, finally it was competition day. y/n changes into her costume and heads out and meets up with san. his eyes widen as he sees her costume. it was an icy white with a flowy skirt, rhinestones and glitter along the skirts edge and her sleeves. "wow you look incredible" san says his jaw practically on the floor. "thank you" she says, nervousness clear in her voice as it shook a bit as she replied. "you're going to do great y/n" san reassures her. "hope you're right"

y/n's name booms through the loudspeakers and y/n walks to the rink stepping on it carefully. the music she had been blasting in her ears for months played almost like a bittersweet reminder to all the work she had put into this piece. she skates around, salchow, upright spin, axel, double axel, lutz jump. she hears her music come to an end as she skates to the center of the rink before she lets herself take a breathe so much had happened in the span of a few months. she had gotten praised, yelled at, she met san.. oh san he changed her life for sure. there wasn't time to think about him now though. she takes a moment before clearing her head completely.

without a second thought she jumps to do her final move. the triple axel she worked her ass off perfecting. the scolding of her instructor runs through her ears but its quickly replaced by san's reassurance. within an instant she goes to do her triple axel almost bracing for impact assuming she’d fall but.. no she didn't. she landed perfectly.

before she knew it, it was over. there wasn't any reaction for a moment but suddenly she hears a cheer, she looks to the side to see san practically jumping out of his seat on the sideline. his cheers are followed by clapping from the audience. it was no standing ovation but y/n didnt need one to feel achieved.

she takes a bow practically bolting off as san was waiting for her his arms wide open. she practically jumps off the ice into his arms as they almost fall backwards but san holds them both flat on the ground. it was like the hug he gave her months ago when she sobbed in his arms but this one was different. she releases herself from the hug still in his arms. they look at each other before anyone could say a word she kisses him. without a second thought she presses her lips right onto his. he gasps in surprise at first but he recovers quickly kissing her right back. they finally pull away from the kiss as san slowly brings her down to the ground. "you did it" he exclaims excitedly. "I knew you could do it" he cheers.

the two grip each other's hands as the places are announced. from runner ups to third place, second place, and finally.. "a night to remember by y/n l/n!" the announcer says and san and y/n jump for joy. "holy shit i won" y/n says in almost disbelief. "of course you won" san smiles lifting her up in his arms again spinning her in circles.

the rink clears out and san goes to clean the ice. "victory lap?" he asks giggling as y/n nods with a big smile stepping onto the zamboni's edge. they talk as san cleans the ice going over the cracks and bumps made by all the skaters on the ice that day. he finishes cleaning helping y/n down as he parks it.

y/n walks out with her trophy in one hand and grips san's hand in the other one. they walk to san's car and he opens the door and helps her in before stepping into the drivers seat. "our show at my place?" he asks starting up the car. "I thought you'd never ask" she smiles.

tysm for reading! if you have any requests pls send them my way!!

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#starrysan #ateez #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #san ateez #san x reader #san fic #ateez san #choi san #choi san fanfic #san fanfic

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