pseudolife-archived3

[pseudolife-archived3]

moved & moved

[pseudolife-archived3]

hi. i am going to be switching to a new blog. its been six months, its time for a cleanup and cleanout <3

[pseudolife-archived3]

God, I love Samuel Roukin sfm. Man's a fuckin giant, sweet as fuck, big hairy chest, not a sexist shit (he was in an all female led, written, etc movie! He was proud and excited about it!) and his voice is naturally deep and womb shaking. Baaaark bark bark.

Edit to add: I don't really do sm but I also love that this man is the MOST AWKWARD poster in the history of social media. It's cute. I love those awkward boomer vibes he gives.

Also most importantly: when he plays Ghost, his voice is actually understandable and not... That kind of voice where a guy is trying to sound deeper but comes off kinda breathy and difficult, yanno? My hearing is bad. I need CLEARLY SPOKEN words, thnx. Bless Samuel for doing that for me and only me.

Sry no one else is awake for MY RAMBLING they're all IN FUCKING BED FUCKING ASLEEP LIKE LOSERS so it's me and you, dash buddies. Just us.

[pseudolife-archived3]

People calling Price dad when he's only a handful of years older than me is makin me SWEAT.

[pseudolife-archived3]

Please it makes me wanna vom like why did you do this? And do it so POORLY??? Please say syke guys.

Neil crooning over Sam never ceases to make me weep.

[pseudolife-archived3]

Neil crooning over Sam never ceases to make me weep.

[pseudolife-archived3]

Fujiko could play the fool if she wanted to - and in that moment, she waivers in wanting to. She's not afraid of him, despite the knowledge that she is alone for the first time in a long time, no lover or friend or guard to back her up - but she is wary and unsure. Eyes lined with dark makeup narrowed, as perfect lips form a perfect smile - even as some of her concerns are proven factual.

This was about her dear Vova, the only husband to have gotten away from her claws. She almost wants to be bitter about it, but she knows better than to be so. He'd left her with money, with plans, orders... Their parting, from his eyes at least, was only temporary - until he needed her again at his side. And, although, she loathed to wait pretty, she found herself doing it for the Russian regardless.

This is what happens when you grow fond of targets.

"Could I?" He's English, is he one of that Captain's? Her head tilts as she regards him, trying to remember if she'd been briefed on the team more than just names and grumblings. And then - it hits her. His name. "Simon Riley." She practically purrs it, her smile curling to something more friendly, like he was a close companion and not the enemy. A delicate hand coming up to rest on his forearm. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. My dear husband had much to say about you, he's still quite upset you missed seeing the airport in Verdansk."

Ghost hadn’t intended to threaten her. This was an appeal. Fujiko was the closest lead they’d found to getting a trail on Makarov. His precious wife. Finding her was a jackpot, but only if they could get her talking. Milena had been helpful, but nowhere near as good a lead as this could pay off to be.

She seems to be nervous, though he can’t place if it’s his general presence, or perhaps that she may be starting to piece together exactly what him finding her means. She’s a hard read, he’ll give her that much. Though, there were ways to decipher just about anything if one applied their mind enough.

“Oh, no obsession,” he clarifies. “I’d be glad to.” His tone is flat, no hint of anything. “You’re married to a very devilish man, Fujiko.” He lets the statement sit in the air between them for a moment. “A man that my friends and I need to find. You could make that a lot easier, yeah?”

[pseudolife-archived3]

Truthfully? She's still staring at the phone by the time he slips into her space, wishing hard for it to jump back in her hands so that she didn't have to lean over. Not shitfaced, barely enough alcohol in her to cause her to be tipsy but not willing to risk it regardless. But then - it's there, her phone that is. Held out to her, and she scoops the beaten device up with as much grace as she can muster. (Read: She nearly drops it.)

"Thank you." Her cheeks are pink-red now, heated not just because of intoxication, but shame. Shame at having been watched at least long enough to watch her fumble her most expensive possession. "I know, I just - butter fingers." Birdie beams then, tilting her head up to flash her phone's savior a happy grin only to -

Oh.

She knows him. Sort of. He's the man from the bar, with the mask. The one with the attitude, that acted like he hadn't wanted her there, but had engaged with her regardless. A conversation that had been truthfully morbid, but nothing she wasn't used to - her beloved Frank wasn't exactly a pleasant talker either.

He has the same eyes. The thought catches her off guard as she blinks up at him. Not in shade, or shape but - He's seen death. Enough of it for even masked features to read clearly of it. Or maybe that was just her. She'd certainly seen the look of a killer enough times in her life to know it by heart.

"It's awfully late to be out alone." Pot, kettle. But Birdie's got a little bit of survivor girl training in her, and being outside at night was kind of a specialty of hers. "But it's nice to see you again, sir."

Ghost is out on a rare night off base. In fact, he’s waiting to catch the bus back when he spies her. Some pretty thing stumbling about, clearly at least tipsy if not already sauced. He doesn’t make it evident he’s watching, but it’s not out of malice. He’s keeping watch for anyone else who might spot her with worse intent than he. Hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, hardly raising his gaze.

He can tell whatever’s on her phone’s upset her, and it’s in watching her face scrunch that Simon realizes that he knows her. She’s that annoying broad from the bar. The one who hadn’t taken the hint and had kept talking. Eyes narrow as he watches her; he’s not even certain she’s clocked his presence in all honesty. Too absorbed in her phone and her tipsiness. There’s something funny about it, having met her in a bar. She’d stuck in his thoughts though. He’d had half a mind to call her once or twice, but he’d never relented to trying to be normal. 

He watches her phone skitter across the pavement, and before she can grab it, he’s stooped to snatch it up. “Here. Should be more careful, y’know,” the statement is as deadpan as ever. He holds the phone out to her, watching intently to gauge whether or not she recognizes him.

[pseudolife-archived3]

unstoppable force (desire to write) vs immovable object (tired)

[pseudolife-archived3]

[pseudolife-archived3]

i love codependent relationships in fiction i love watching two messy people unforgivably in love with each other shatter the world around them i love seeing interpretations of love as a cosmic disastrous redemptive force i love watching love consume people whole i love looking at romantic relationships and going "oh that is so fucked up! good for them"

[pseudolife-archived3]

A lot of times, it feels like we don't celebrate our wins until they feel "big" enough. But, really, no matter how "big" or "small" those wins are, they should be acknowledged for the effort you put in to get there. Celebrate yourself today. Be proud of every step you take and every sacrifice you made to get those wins. You worked hard. You don't need to wait until those wins feel "big" enough, and you don't need permission to feel proud of yourself. I'm proud of you. Please remember to take care of yourself with small acts of self-care (Whatever that looks like to you. For me it's taking a nice soak in the bath and some bubble tea!). I'm cheering you on! -- 💜💜 Victoria

"For what it's worth... it's never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit. Start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same. There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of and if you're not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

my favorite part of you sending these messages is because you are so sweet, but you literally just sent me fuckin oceangate bath bombs and and we'll be seated together in hell, victoria, for laughing about it.

[pseudolife-archived3]

grief is not a feeling , it’s a neighborhood .  this is where i come from . everyone i love still lives there .

ind. priv. sel.  VARIOUS MEDIA - CANON & ORIGINAL CHARACTER MULTI - MUSE .  loved by :  RINA ; 26 , THEY / THEM .   12+ years experience .   19+ ONLY AND MUTUALS ONLY .  low - medium activity .  READ ALL INFORMATION BEFORE INTERACTION . prev. bledagony , weretorn , wolfburnt , moonfloret , and various others . || ©

[pseudolife-archived3]

all about health

send one ( or more ) in to learn all about… 

scars:  how many scars does my muse have? where are they located on my muse’s body? how did they get them? what do they look like? 

sleep: how many hours a night does my muse sleep? do they take naps? how restful is their sleep? do they experience nightmare? if so, how often? 

meals: how many meals does my muse eat a day? what do they generally consist of? 

routine: does my muse have a consistent routine in their lives? do they find it difficult to stick to a routine? 

chronic: does my muse have any chronic health conditions / illnesses? how do these affect them from day-to-day? 

doctor: how often does my muse visit the doctor? do they tend to go routinely, or only when something is wrong? 

relaxation: what does my muse do to relax? do they find it easy to carve out time to relax? 

aches: does my muse have any frequent aches? ie, muscle aches, joint aches? how do these affect them from day-to-day? 

stress: does my muse handle stress well? what is a surefire sign for others to tell that they’ve become stressed? how does stress affect them mentally / physically? 

mind: does my muse have any mental conditions that affect their lives? what are they? how do they handle them? what coping methods do they use most? 

[pseudolife-archived3]

Send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

[pseudolife-archived3]

 send touch + [ a body part ] for my muse to take your muse’s hand and place it there on their body. send reverse + [ a body part ] for your muse to take my muse’s hand and place it there on their body.

 [ bonus points ] if you give a reason or bit of dialogue.

[pseudolife-archived3]

my stubbornness when it comes to not listening to gh.ost should be studied.