#Compare PowerPoint Slides

[swimming-karyss]

oh no, I accidentally uploaded the same picture twice!

:D

[drama-tically]

watching pakistani serials be like "what in the wattpad is this" until you realise the serials have existed even before wattpad. it's just like watching malaysian dramas. and that's what i love about these two kekekekekek

[comatosebunny09]

kismet [ teaser ] | sylus

— summary: “are you going to keep picking at my bed sheets until you’ve reduced them to mere threads?” sylus’ voice startles you, bringing you careening back to the present. the sheet slips from your fingers as you cower like a scolded child, bathed in the imposing aura he emits.  “you could say something. or we could just sit here listening to each other breathe for the rest of the night. take your pick.”

— cw: blood, injury, violence, minor character deaths, language, self-loathing, unrequited (requited) feelings, mdni

— now playing: i got u - austin farwell

Consciousness comes toddling in like newborn kittens. 

You anticipate the sound of birds chirping outside. Anticipate sunbeams kissing your eyelids and the crisp scent of your comforter. Instead, you’re ushered into wakefulness by insistent ticking. By a dull throbbing in your side and by something silken sliding down your bare stomach to pool around your hips. 

Uh-oh.

You jolt up. What a shitty idea that proves to be. White hot pain explodes in your side, anchoring you back down to the bed. Bed? Bed…when did you—

Your vision blurs and bends, adjusting in the low light. You make out discernible shapes and colors from your spot propped against a pillow. The aroma that greets you isn’t one associated with your home. But it’s familiar all the same. Inherently masculine with undernotes of bergamot, amber, and—

Ah, fuck.

Reality barrels in. You wince as you take in the sheets pooled around you. Their texture, their color. You’re surrounded by furniture that isn’t yours but is recognizable. And the ticking is familiar, too, coming from a clock nestled in the corner. 

This isn’t your bed. This isn’t your room. This is…this is…

The clearing of a throat interrupts your internal panicking. You shrink away from the source of the sound, but you soon learn to regret that. The ache from before returns, though not as severe. Still, it’s enough for you to grit your teeth with a hiss leaking through. 

“Sweetie,” warns a murky voice from your bedside—his bedside. You stiffen, the color draining from your face. “If you keep jostling about like that, you’ll reopen your wound.”

A peek in your periphery reveals what you fear—a wash of scarlet and white. 

You rigidly slide back down against his mattress, wishing it could swallow you whole. Wishing you could recede into your skin like a turtle. He’s barely said more than a sentence to you, yet you can sense his vexation as if he’s given you a whole PowerPoint presentation. 

You toy with some stitching in his sheets. Your heart thrums fiercely in your ears. The throbbing in your side can’t compare to that gnarling feeling in your gut. You don’t dare look at him. Don’t have to, irritation rolling off him in waves. He’s pissed if the set of his jaw in your periphery is any gauge. You would be, too, if you found yourself like that. 

You fucked up. And you don’t think any amount of groveling will fix this. 

—

It was a routine negotiation. 

Well, you had hoped it would be. 

You weren’t at all surprised when it went south; Niko was known for being a greedy bastard. Not only did he want the military-grade weapons you were selling in Sylus’s stead. But he also wanted to keep his pockets full. Figured he’d bump you off while absconding with the goods and money.

Naturally, Niko sicked his men on you. One by one, you took down hulking thugs, your instincts and Evol guiding you through the fray. It had been a minute since you got your hands dirty. You wanted to savor the moment, the purpling of your knuckles, and the thrill of a good fight. 

Caught up in the action, you hadn’t noticed one of Niko’s men charging you with a machete until it was too late. He sliced you good, breaking through skin before you could spin out of reach. You grit your teeth against the initial shock, but the adrenaline that spilled through you muted the pain. 

When the henchman drew back for another swing, you used his weight to your advantage, throwing him off-kilter. Maneuvering behind him to pull him into a chokehold, you used that same machete to tear through his carotid. He fell to the ground, his life spilling from him on the concrete. 

You took down the remainder of Niko’s men in a similar fashion, oblivious to how fucked you truly were. When the last of his henchmen hit the ground, you confronted the kingpin himself. Of course, he took off running in the wake of your ire. 

They always fucking ran. 

The bastard was surprisingly quick for an old man, leading you on a chase through the moonlit docks. All the action exacerbated your wound, its severity gradually announcing itself and slowing you down. You finally cornered Niko, dealing the killing blow. Left him propped against a safety bollard, split open and leaking red as a warning for anyone who dared to cross Sylus.

Reality set in as you hobbled back to your bike, the case of weapons and cash cumbersome in your hands. 

You were hurt. Bad. So much that you stumbled into a brick wall in an alleyway. It bit unforgivingly into your shoulder but was a cold, welcome reprieve against your feverish, sweat-slicked skin.

You clutched your side as a visceral pain tore through you. A glance down revealed your blood seeping through the gaps of your fingers, glistening condescendingly in the moonlight.

It was a jagged slice. Tore through skin and tissue, rubbed raw from your clothing. Untreated, it would fester and grow gangrenous, not to mention the blood loss. You didn’t trust yourself to make it to the hospital on your bike. Not when you were near tears, struggling to stay conscious. 

You turned a bitter laugh to the sky, though it was converted into a wheeze. This was what you deserved. What you got for being so complacent, driven to recklessness by your petty feelings. By your need to stay on top and prove your worthiness. 

Your breaths were shallow. Inhaling was laborious, amplifying the pain. You sank to your knees, fumbling your phone from your pocket. The screen was smeared with blood as you struggled to cue up a contact. Thankfully, the receiver clicked to life, a feminine voice lighting up the other end.

“Hey,” you breathed, your cell shakily held to your ear. “Need your help. Dropping a pin.”

You ignored the alarm in her voice at your cryptic words. Didn’t have time for questions, hanging up before marking your location and sharing it. 

Your phone clattered to the ground, the sound of it jarring amid distant cars moving about on the streets and dogs barking somewhere far off. You propped yourself up on the alleyway wall, sucking down as much air as you could. Tried to calm yourself, watching the clouds glaze over the moon overhead—anything to distract you. To nullify the pain.

The ache subsided the slightest bit. With some effort, you divested yourself of your blazer to pack it into your side. The texture gliding against your wound aggravated it. But you needed something temporary to staunch the bleeding until help arrived.

Exhaustion was pulling you under, darkened tendrils furling in your chest like smoke and clouding your eyes. You were about to give in to its inky embrace before headlights flooded your vision, chasing away the dreamlike smog. 

You looked up at the frantic clicking of shoes along the pavement. Chuckled something breathy at the fear sinking onto her face. You didn’t deserve her concern, but having someone fret over you felt nice.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” said Nadia, helping you stand with your arm slung over her shoulder.

Nadia was one of Lux’s bartenders. Could whip up a mean martini and was a faithful confidant. You sometimes called her when you were in a bind. As much of a fuck up you’d been lately, you trusted her never to go running her mouth to Sylus. 

She guided you to her car. You blinked away the bleariness, swallowing past the sand in your throat. 

“Not yet. Gotta…see the bossman first.”

The car door slammed behind you once Nadia eased you into the passenger seat. For a moment, you sat silently, forehead propped against the crisp window as you dripped blood on her tan seat. Shit. You’d clean it up. You promised. 

You watched Nadia round the car with your cases in tow before she slipped into the driver's side. The leather of the steering wheel squelched in her white-knuckled grip. She gave you a tight-lipped look. Wanted to argue, but there was no sense in trying to change your mind. You were stubborn to a fault.

Nodding, Nadia backed the car out of the alleyway and eased onto the street. She kept tabs on you throughout the drive, occasionally peering over to ensure you were still among the conscious. 

You promised you’d see the doc after you reported to Sylus. You just hoped to hold yourself together long enough to see him.

—

Lux’s iron-wrought gates panned into view.

As much as she burned to, Nadia vowed not to snitch, so long as you sought out a medic when you were done. You were thankful for that. She’d kept your injuries under wraps for so long. You didn’t think you could handle inconveniencing your boss with your stupid little wounds. He already had enough on his plate—enough people to occupy his mind. 

Your side still throbbed as Nadia snuck you in through the club’s back doors. She shepherded you into a dressing room, helping you disinfectant and wrap your injury before assisting you with your dress. It was a tight little number. Something to hold your bindings in place, dark enough to disguise any blood that managed to seep through. 

Reluctantly, Nadia left you to your own devices. You’d swept your hair into some semblance of neat in the mirror. Blotted sweat and grime from your face, patting your cheeks to bring back some color. 

You could do this. You’d suffered worse. Mustering up your last vestiges of strength, you stood, ignoring the sticky pull of the gauze against your laceration. You dragged yourself through Lux’s stilled halls, ending your journey at the heavy double doors leading to Sylus’ office. 

It was laborious, pushing them open. You’d sapped the last of energy doing so. Your vision doubled, a thatch of white dancing through the chaos. You barely made out the terror lining Sylus’ features. Barely heard the hurried click of his shoes over marbled floors and the fear hijacking his voice when you collapsed in the doorframe.  

You felt so very cold. But his hands were warm, squeezing your arms like that. He shook you lightly, the scarlet of his eyes glinting through your bleariness. His voice was muddled. He was saying something. Asking something. You couldn’t decipher what. You were tired. Just wanted to sleep. 

You felt pressure on your side. His hand. Heard him suck in a breath, your blood sticky on his palm. Dammit. You thought you’d done a decent job packing your wound. Whatever. You'd do better next time. 

The world fell away as he called your name. You couldn’t keep your eyes open. Tried to answer, but you were already gone, sinking below the depths as if weighed down by cinder blocks.

[4theitgirls]

study like paris geller

start early

to get as much done as possible, you may need to start waking up earlier. this can be hard, but once you start, it will get easier and easier until it is part of your routine. wake up earlier, start earlier, get it done.

try not to see others as competition, but use them as motivation

while paris saw rory as competition at first, she finished knowing that no one could compare to her and just because rory was also very intelligent, it doesn’t mean that she wasn’t. there will always be others that are getting better grades than you or studying better than you, but try not to get caught up in that. she’s top of the class? use her to motivate yourself to do better. if you’re feeling low and comparing yourself to others, there’s probably a reason for that. find what it is within yourself, fix it, and come back better than ever.

use all resources available to you

paris wouldn’t let one opportunity to better her education or further her intelligence pass, and neither should you. use every resource and opportunity handed to you and work for the ones that aren’t.

stay determined

there will always be times where you don’t feel like studying or you’re feeling discouraged, but do not let these moments or days keep you from doing what you need to do. it’s okay to rest your brain when needed, but never quit. your future self will thank you for it.

have a plan and stick to it

take time to make a plan that will work realistically and effectively for you. once you have your plan, stick to it. again, there will always be times where you aren’t feeling like it, but don’t let these moments negatively impact your habits and goals. stick to your routine and you will get to a point where you don’t even think twice about it anymore.

go above and beyond

when it comes to studying, it isn’t always enough to just do the bare minimum. most of the time, it will benefit you far more to put some extra time and work in. research further than just a chapter of a textbook or a few slides of a powerpoint. you will never regret being more well-read.

get out of your comfort zone

paris knows that to be the best, you will have to do some things that you have never done before. you will have to talk to new people, present your research to a big group of strangers, travel if needed, learn things you never thought you would have to learn, etc. your comfort zone will be your downfall. realize that you will have to do things you aren’t enthusiastic about, and that’s okay.

[keeganrussmybeloved]

First ever real blurb out here in Tumblr.

The following is the final version a lil enconium i did for Keegan- which by the way I had to present to my class and got graded on. They knew shit nothing about CoD so if you yourself are new to CoD ghosts, specifically keegan as a character, I'd recommend reading!! ( @141plagueriley 🫶 )

I'll also include some PowerPoint slides i did to go along with my enconium! Which is basically a speech glazing keegan for 6 minutes straight ☺️

This post looks so un-aestetic but I'll start under the cut

Introduction and background~

It is both frequently and heavily debated by many whether Call of Duty: Ghosts has one of the best or worst campaigns for several different reasons. Yet one thing that pretty much everyone can agree on is that the character, Sargeant Keegan P. Russ, is one of the most iconic and well-liked in the entire Ghosts franchise. Born in Texas, 1989, Keegan serves as a key supporting character: as the Ghost's designated scout sniper, fighting alongside the playable character, Logan Walker and the rest of the Ghosts. He can easily be identified by his signature ghost balaclava and his blue eyes in the post-apocalyptic setting of the game.

Education and influences~

Keegan was recruited into the United States Marine Corps at a surprisingly young age. What is even more impressive is how he was promoted to Sargeant by around fifteen years old as he joined the Force Reconnaissance with his comrade, Ajax. Keegan excelled at reconnaissance, and his talents were soon recognized by Elias Walker, who promoted Keegan into the Ghosts– also making his career in the Corps short-lived. Instead, he would become part of the original fifteen ghosts who fought in Operation Sandviper in 2005. From then on, Keegan would serve in Task Forse Stalker for the following two decades as a Ghost.

Character (qualities) –

Keegan might be described as a man of few words, but his actions speak volumes about his loyalty to his team and courage when in action. We first meet Keegan in the "No man's land" mission, where he stays closed off and quiet as he observes the surroundings around us. We can tell that Keegan is the type of soldier who is always thinking ahead, as he is the one to help us– Logan– set up remote snipers that would become crucial later on in that same mission. Keegan also shows his loyalty by being the one who stays next to Ajax until the very end and even carries him to safety in that same mission. In one of the more memorable missions, "Federation Day", Keegan's Character seems to completely change as he led Logan and Hesh Walker through the mission. Keegan starts to communicate more, taking on a commanding leadership role when it's just him and the Walker brothers. His character can also be seen as a mentor figure to the main protagonist, Logan, as he learns from Keegan. (Istg i would've cooked talking about the "mentor" relationship keegan had with Logan but I was limited on how much I could write 😭😭)

I had way too much fun making these..

Acheivements~

NOOO I COULDVE COOKED

I dont have any more slides to show after this unfinished one 😭😭

Keegan made several accomplishments in his career, including single-handedly saving thr entire Ghost Team after they were ambushed by the Federation in the "Sin City" mission, as well as his role in Operation Sanviper, where they successfully defended a civilian hospital from a Federation attack. But none could compare to what he accomplished in a solo recon mission just a couple of months before joining the Ghosts. According to this document recounting the events from the Fedartion's perspective, Keegan managed to carry out a fifteen day-long recon mission by himself at peak efficiency, despite facing harsh weather conditions and running out of supplies at around day seven. During this operation, Keegan eliminated thirteen and injured three Federation Tangos. This forced most of the Federation forces to abandon the area, except for a single scout sniper who challenged Keegan one-on-one. Keegan easily won, which not only led to his recognition by Captain Elias Walker, but also impressive considering he was only fifteen years old at the time, with every variable working against him.

Silly doodle from me to make up for the missing PowerPoint slide in the meantime.

(One of my first times doodling keegs)

Similarities to others~

Most Call of Duty characters are either inspired by a real person or completely made up. Keegan is different as he isn't a direct representation of only one individual but rather three based on his demeanor, combat style, and role within the Ghosts. Chris Kyle, for example, was a Navy SEAL sniper who has the most confirmed kills in American history and had a commanding presence, like Keegan, as they both are elite marksman who provide overwatch in high-risk missions. Then there is Carlos Hathcock, a legendary Marine Corps sniper known for his stealth and patience when operating alone behind enemy lines. He excelled at recon and precision shooting while staying completely undetectable–just like Keegan. Lastly, Nicholas Irving, and Army Ranger sniper, was uniquely specialized in high-speed close quarters combat along with recon. He might be one of the only real-life examples of a sniper who didn't just stay behind the scope, as he also fought up close when needed, which is exactly what Keegan is seen doing multiple times throughout the campaign.

A better keegan sketch of mine:

Conclusion 😌 ~

All in all, if you were to combine Hathcock's stealth, Kyle's effectiveness, and Irving's aggressive adaptivity you would essentially get Keegan P. Russ. That is why he is considered one of the most skilled Call of Duty operators by far– and my favorite, in my opinion.

Thats all I did and honestly... the hardest part was making it NOT sound as if I were simping while writing and presenting 😋✌️

Thanks for making it this far into my very not-aesthetically pleasing blog 🫶

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twenty

authors note: this is more on the boring/filler side, and i apologize for that, but it covers some necessary things and hints at other things. plus, the one after this is wrestlemania and then after that is the infamous disney trip, and those def won't be boring/fillers. 👀

also, what do you ya'll think reader is having? i'm also open to name suggestions cause i hate naming characters lmao

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, angst, and suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 6.6k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @wanderingreigns @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @romanreignsbae

Life is one crazy ass ride.

You’ve always known this, but the past few months have really shown you just how insane things can be. It’s been up, it’s been down, it’s been just a fucking rollercoaster of events and emotions, but somehow, things always seen to work out in your favor.

You expected, maybe more so hoped, that your Live with Jadah would go over well. Would help people see and understand that there’s so much more to the story, so much more to you than the lies that have been fed to them by your apparently psychotic ex-best friend. That was the semi-goal.

Well, to say that goal was met is a bit of an understatement.

The Live went viral, spreading and making it to most global and some international platforms. TMZ formally issued an apology to you, Joe, and Jadah, and retracted their story with Mariah, even scrubbing the interview, which Joe’s legal team believes is only to avoid getting caught up in the several lawsuits she’s been slapped with. 

So many publications have turned the tide, no longer speaking on you and your situation with an almost judgmental stance but rather just reposting the Live and letting the facts speak for themselves.

And social media…..holy shit. 

One thing you never expected was for the Live to go viral, but you especially never expected for yourself to also go viral in a different way, that is.

While the general public was initially against you, bashing you every which way to Sunday, it’s almost completely turned with the vast majority now utterly and wholly intrigued with you. They’ve dug up old headshots from when you cheered in college, clips of you either practicing or competing, and a few Snap videos you were in, again, all during your college years.

Not to mention the clips they took from the Live, primarily of you playfully twerking with Jadah. That clipped with the TikToks you did with Naomi has resulted in people making TikToks and “edits,” as Alexis explained, posting and sharing everywhere.

Apparently, the vast majority of social media finds you extremely attractive, and have even been comparing you to the infamous prison bae, Jeremy Meeks, from way back when. Minus the criminal aspects, of course.

“Look at this one! These are my favorite.” Alexis turns her phone so the group of you can see what is yet another edit of you, err, more so your ass than anything to good googly moogly by Project Pat, which apparently was already going viral on TikTok as people post videos of friends and loved ones with a nice ass. Seems you’ve been added to that group.

“I don’t get the fascination,” you admit with a shake of your hand, fingers tapping against your glass of lemonade. “Like, I’m not even famous.”

“You kinda are now,” Bianca suggests. It's a crazy suggestion, too, because in what world does someone like you, from a small ass town with virtually no major social media footprint, qualify as famous. “Not like, A-List celeb famous, but you don’t make it to the Shade Room if you’re not at least kinda famous.”

Alexis makes a sound, adding, “ya’ll whole lil situation made the March event on their calendar.”

“On their what?” Jadah is understandably confused, asking, “what the hell does that even mean?”

“Twin, I’m gonna need to make a PowerPoint for you or something.”

“Please do, and make sure to add the fancy transitions.”

“Custom slide backgrounds?”

“You know the key to my heart.”

The meeting and union of Jadah and Alexis remains to be seen as one of the worst or best things you could have ever done. They’re so damn similar it felt almost criminal to not introduce them, but with both having such strong personalities, a clash could be one of the titans. So far, however, they’re vibing just as well as you and Jadah have. Hence why all of these ladies are sitting around your coffee table, various drinks in hand, most alcoholic, except for yours of course. 

Which reminds you…

“Oh shit,” you announce, four sets of eyes falling on you as you realize you haven’t shared the news with the majority of them, ironically, Jadah being the only one to know. “I haven’t had a chance to ask.”

You decide to be dramatic as hell, pausing as Alexis is the first to say, impatiently, “ask what, hoe?”

Another pause followed by an intentional rub of your belly as you nonchalantly ask, “which one of ya’ll wants to be in charge of planning the baby shower?”

You’re met with instant screams and squeals of enjoyment, a big smile falling on your face as you’re hit with all of the questions and exclamations. 

“I knew it! I knew it was just a matter of time before BDJ struck again!”

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, congratulations!”

“No freaking way! That’s amazing!”

“I’m gonna act like I didn’t already know, so congratulations, great value sister wife!”

Alexis and Jadah’s statements make you laugh while Bianca and Kaylah’s cause your heart to swell. You then try to quiet them down, “thank you, guys. We’re excited. But, we haven’t told Callie yet, so please keep it to yourselves.”

“Of course.” Kaylah excitedly asks, “how far along are you?”

“Almost three months,” you answer, proudly. Although entirely unexpected, or maybe not depending on how you look at it, you’ve found your excitement at this pregnancy growing every single day. Excitement at having another child, giving Callie the chance to be a big sister, to give Joe the opportunity to experience this pregnancy with you from conception to birth and beyond. He deserves it, especially now that you know what he went through with Jadah.

“Wait. Damn. This means we can’t have a hot girl summer until next year!” Alexis is pouting as she downs the rest of her drink before reaching for the bottle to get a refill. “You couldn’t let that nigga shoot up the club later this fall instead.”

Kaylah’s nose turns up as she also takes a sip of her moscato but not before muttering, “didn’t need that visual.”

Rolling your eyes, you point out, “Alexis, we are too damn old to be having a hot girl summer. Half of us are moms and/or in relationships except your non-committal ass.”

Non-committal has nothing to do with the topic that floats to the front of your mind, but having a room full of women to consult with seems like a perfect opportunity to discuss something that’s still bothering you to some extent.

“Let me ask ya’ll something.” You take a sip of your sparkling apple cider and get to explaining. “So, every time I try to talk to Joe about planning for when the baby gets here, like having my mom or his mom come stay with us a bit to help out when he’s on the road, he either ignores me, changes the subject, or just pacifies me. And I’m trying really hard not to cuss him out, but between baby emotions and me being me, it’s hard.”

Being perceptive is always something you’ve prided yourself on, valued as one of your attributes, so it’s hard not to miss when Kaylah, Alexis, and even Jadah all look suddenly uncomfortable with your question, like they also want to change the subject.

Bianca is the first and only to speak out.

“Yeah, that’s kind of weird.” Her agreement is the quintessential example of validation you were needing for this situation. “I get you’re barely three months, but why not start with the plans now? The sooner the better since it seems like his schedule is pretty hectic.”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you echo her sentiments. “Exactly! And one thing to know about me, which I know he has to know about me is that I like to plan. I hate surprises. We need to start figuring out this shit now.”

“I’d definitely talk to him about it, cause men can be very go with the flow, but this isn’t one of those things that I think should be go with the flow.”

“I feel like you should maybe just wait it out and see where the cards fall.” Kaylah’s suggestion is casual, but her eye contact is sparse, and you actually don’t know what to make of that. 

Jadah contributes to the conversation with agreement to Kaylah’s point. “I agree. Trust your man, whore.”

“But—” And as if present and overhearing said conversation, your phone starts to ring, the man himself filling up your lock screen. “Speaking of the devil…..” You lift and show your phone to the group. “I gotta take this ya’ll.”

“Well, duh.” Alexis says like it’s a no brainer. “BDJ probably won’t stop calling until you pick up anyway.”

Laughing, you untangle your legs and climb off the sofa at the same time you answer his FaceTime, quickly telling him, “hold on.”

“I’ll be back,” you inform, but the last thing you hear is Bianca making the awful mistake of asking Alexis what “BDJ” stands for. Alexis and Jadah start to laugh. 

Obviously, Jadah also knows what’s up. 

Locking the door behind you, you sit down on the patio set that was delivered only two days prior and situate your phone on the accompanying table. Legs crossed, you give him the go, “okay, i’m good now. Just wanted some privacy.”

He doesn’t hesitate to slide right into protective papa bear mode. “How you feeling?”

“Alright.” Your hand unintentionally lands on your stomach as you explain, “had some nausea this morning, but that’s not out of the norm. I had pretty bad morning sickness when I was pregnant with Callie the first few months.”

You can tell he’s not entirely satisfied with this answer, leaning more on the concerned and conservative side. “When’s your next checkup?”

“April 8th. I made sure to schedule it so you can be there.” Joe indicated he wanted the first Monday after WrestleMania to be a day of rest for you and Callie, and it can still be, but you also couldn’t miss the opportunity for him to be a part of your first official well-baby visit. Especially with this being the first time you’ll be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. 

That must especially be special for him.

“I promise I’m okay, Joe.” Out of respect for him and his emotional state at such an important time in his life, you haven’t told him everything Jadah shared with you. Haven’t made him aware of your knowledge regarding his loss. You’re not sure if you ever will, to be honest. If he wishes to discuss that with you, you’ll always be there to listen and support. But, there’s zero desire to dig up painful memories and trigger this man. 

That doesn’t, however, mean you can’t reassure him when you can see there’s a level of anxiety and apprehension. 

“If I wasn’t, you and Dr. Young would be the first to know.” It’s a promise. You would never do anything to risk unnecessary complications with this pregnancy. “How do you feel? You look tired.”

He’s looked as such for the past couple weeks, and you feel slightly bad, knowing the whole Mariah ordeal must have taken a toll on him. Not to mention his intense training and preparation for WrestleMania.

Of course, he just shrugs, playing it off. “I’m good.” You make a knowing sound. “What?”

“Seriously, Joe. This is me. I know you like the back of my hand. You’re exhausted. It’s okay to admit as such.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. I promise.”

Joe is every bit stubborn as he is caring. He won’t agree with you, but that doesn’t make what you’re saying any less true.

“Whatever, just know I’m giving you a well deserved massage when we come to see you next week.” Coyly, you imply with a shrug of your shoulder. “And maybe a lil’ more depending on the layout of your place and if we can get some privacy from your lil’ twin.”

“Naw, that lil more is happening no matter what, even if I have to fuck you in the rental.”

His tone of surety makes you laugh as you think about something. “I don’t think we’ve ever fucked in a car before.” The list of places this man has been balls deep in you is endless, but a vehicle and plane seem to have not made the list. Yet. “Might have to change that.”

He also laughs. “Wherever you want it, baby, you just gotta tell me when and how.” Just more and more reasons to love this man to infinity and beyond. He matches your freak so well.

Joe asks about Callie, of course, and you let him know she’s in seven heaven playing with her cousin in her new room that’s gradually filling up even though she still doesn’t even have all of her stuff from back in your apartment. It also goes without saying that you remind him she’s absolutely thrilled to see him soon, the same as you, which is the same as him. Reunions between the three of you are just all around enjoyable.

Naturally, Joe apologizes, for no good reason, at not being able to come with you as you take Callie back to your hometown for your final apartment walkthrough and to close all other matters, officially making your move to Florida complete. It’s a bit of a bittersweet thing, leaving the place you grew up and have so many memories in. However, what’s ahead of you is so much better than what’s behind you. 

And while you would love Joe to be able to come too, it’s also not necessary.

Especially when he finds out what else is on your agenda before you say goodbye for good. 

Realizing your time with him could be cut at any moment, you decide it’s now or never to break the news to him. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I know right off the bat, you’re not going to be in agreement, but I need you to just hear me out.”

He’s hesitant and already skeptical but nods. “I’m listening.”

A deep breath followed by a quick prayer to the big man that Joe will at least try to be open to this plan. “I’m gonna go see my dad while I’m there.”

This is something you’ve really been thinking about, on and off, since the Christmas ordeal. It just hasn’t been such a major priority given all the other fires you’ve been having to put out. Alexis was right when she said the dynamic with your dad has a lot to do with the situation with Joe and not telling him about Callie.

And you being able to acknowledge that has made you realize you’ve been holding onto a lot of pain and anger towards that man. More pain than anything. And it’s time to let it go. The same way you’re leaving that town for good, albeit bittersweet, you need to drop the baggage of hurt at the door before the curtain closes permanently.

In this case, that means sitting in front of the man who is your biological father and nothing more, speaking your peace, and closing that chapter.

For good. 

To some extent, you expected, maybe more so hoped, for Joe to be more receptive. 

It was wishful thinking, at best.

Immediately, he protests, face turned up in a scowl that reminds you of Callie when she’s in one of her moods. “Like hell you—”

Closing your eyes, you do your best to keep your voice leveled. “Hear me out, please.”

“Y/N, do you not remember the last time you saw that man?” Most definitely do you remember. That was definitely a low moment for you. “You were a fucking wreck. I’m not seeing you go through that again, especially with you being pregnant.”

“Do you really think if I had even an inkling it wouldn’t be safe for our baby I’d be doing it? Come on, Joe. You know me. I would never put either of our children in harm's way.” And you know he knows this, knows this very well, but you can also understand his anxiety from a couple different angles. “Before when I saw him, I was still looking for his love and approval. I can admit that now.” It’s been a tough pill to swallow, going back and forth between emotion and logic, coming to grips with such an uncomfortable truth. “I don’t need that anymore. I don’t even want it. I have you. I have Callie. My mom. Our friends. Even this new baby, but if I’m leaving that town for good, I need to leave all of the hurt it brought me there too. That includes making my peace with him.”

When he still doesn't say anything, you continue to plead your case.

“I need to do this, Joe. I’m not asking you to understand.” You’re not quite sure he could. This is one of those things that unless you’ve lived it, lived with a neglectful, uninvolved parent, you just couldn’t get it. “I’m just asking you to trust me.”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, and you already know it’s because he’s sitting on your words, doing his best to meet you where you are. Eventually, he says in a resigned voice, “I don’t want you going alone.”

There’s an immense amount of gratitude for his blessing, and his request is more than fair.  You also figured as such, assuring him, “I already talked with Bianca about it. She’s gonna go with me.” 

This seems to make him feel at least a little bit better. He scratches his beard. “Alright. But the minute you start feeling off—”

“I’ll cut it off. I know.” That goes without saying. You meant what you said. Nothing could make you put your baby at risk. “Thank you, Joe.”

Not wanting this to be the last topic you discuss, you switch gears a bit to something that will hopefully lessen his unease. “I also think we should tell Callie when we come to see you next week. I just told the girls today, and I’m gonna tell my mom while I’m there. Callie deserves to know.” The order of which you’ve told people about your pregnancy isn’t exactly how you would have preferred it to go. In a perfect world, it would have been Joe, Calllie, your mom, and then your close friends. But, life be lifing, so you just have to roll with it as best you can. 

Joe nods. “I agree.” You overhear a distant voice in the background before his gaze falls on you. “I gotta go, babe.”

It’s hard not to feel disappointed. “I get it.” This pregnancy has your emotions a bit on the high, sensitive end, because there’s no reason for you to feel like crying just because this man has to get back to work. You miss him like crazy, sure, but this has always been a bit of the dynamic. You get him in doses, sometimes big, sometimes small. “Can we still call you tonight? You know Callie can’t sleep unless she can tell both of us goodnight.”

It’s such a twist, a beautiful, unexpected thing. Once upon a time, it was just you she needed to see and/or speak to before she could fall asleep. But now, it’s both you and Joe, and you honestly couldn't love that more. 

Their relationship and bond is so precious to you.

And now that you understand what Joe’s been through, you can see why he’s always willing to move heaven and earth for her. She’s the little girl he’s always wanted and finally has.

“Of course.” You weren’t expecting any other answer. “I love you.”

A warm smile sets on your face. “I love you too, baby.”

You settle on a time that works best for him and end the call. Ignoring the sadness at not being able to talk to him further, you walk back in the house for a sure pick-me-up.

“Well, it’s about time,” Bianca teases, dimples nice and pronounced. “Thought we were gonna have to check on ya’ll.”

“No, she’s back too early….” Alexis, as per usual, confuses you when she asks, “ya’ll weren’t having phone sex?” She curses and then grabs her purse, digging out her wallet, slapping a wad of cash into Jadah’s expecting hand.

“Told you,” Jadah says knowingly, smirk on her pretty face as she counts the cash. “One thing I do know about Joe is he’s an all out type of man. It’s rounds or nothing.” She then looks over at you, apologizing, “hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t.” It’s an honest answer. You’re old, mature, and secure enough to acknowledge and be okay with the fact your man has been with her in almost every way he’s probably been with you. Outside of the emotional connection component, which is really what matters the most to you. Sex would just be sex if you didn’t love him as much as you do. If he didn’t love you as much as he does. That’s what makes it so explosive. 

“Well, it bothers me!”  Kaylah looks so disgusted, and you can’t blame her. “Joe is literally like my brother!” 

Bianca cosigns with a shake of her head. “And it bothers me because Y/N literally is my sister.”

“That’s so wild, so ya’ll are half sisters, right?” Jadah asks, pointing between the two of you as you move back onto the sofa. “Same mom or…..”

“No, same dad, but we don’t claim him.”

Jadah makes an ‘O’ with her mouth as Alexis leans over to whisper something in her ear. “Got it. Daddy issues. Ya’ll should just jump him then.”

“That’s what I said! Stomp his ole’ mean ass.”

Yeah…..putting Alexis and Jadah together may have created a new kind of threat to society.

“Anyway.” Refocusing them is really the best and only option. “As we were discussing, ya’ll think I should bring it up to Joe when we fly there next week?” You then remember the pact mentality and aim your question toward Bianca. “Let me just ask you, cause you seem to be the only one who gets where I’m coming from.”

At that, Bianca opens and closes her mouth. “Oh. That. I…..I think you should just leave it alone. I’m sure Joe has his reasons.”

Now it’s your turn to look shocked. “What? That’s not what you said literally not even 10 minutes ago.”

Bianca switching up on you definitely wasn’t in the cards, especially since she was providing you all the affirmation and validation you were seeking in your dilemma. 

She looks off, almost in a guilty, sheepish way. “I changed my mind….”

“What did ya’ll say to her?” It’s directed toward Alexis and and even Jadah, because Kaylah doesn’t seem like the type to try to sway people one way or the other. “Can’t leave ya’ll asses alone for two minutes.”

“I don’t like your tone, Mama Mia. Watch it.” Alexis warns, and you can only roll your eyes. “What you need to be focused on is what you’re gonna wear to the Hall of Fame and WrestleMania.”

Kaylah gasps, also remembering. “Shit, I completely forgot about that.”

Your eyes land on her with premature excitement. “You’re going to the awards too?” She nods and you let out a big sigh of relief. “Oh thank god, I was kinda nervous. I’m sure Trinity is going too, but the more the merrier, I feel like I’m gonna be so out of place there or everyone’s going to hate me.”

“Girl, like Joe is going to let that happen.” Jadah is, surprisingly, the first one to jump to calm your nerves. “Him taking you in and of itself is such a ‘fuck you’ move. He really said ya’ll not about to bully the woman I love and think I’m finna just keep her on the backburner.”

“I agree.” Kaylah chimes, providing additional and useful context. “The internet wrestling community is a cesspool, and they’ll always find some reason to complain and bitch, but Joe has never been about that. He’s gonna have you on his arm regardless of who has something to say about it.” 

“Ummmm, why are we acting like majority of the internet isn’t all on Y/N’s dick now that ya’ll cleared up the air?” Alexis lifts her phone, adding, “I literally can’t get on TikTok or Twitter without seeing edits and photos of Y/N that the internet has dug up. They can’t get enough of her.”

“Her ass, specifically,” Jadah adds, and you shake your head. 

“I think what they’re trying to say is that maybe you should redirect your focus on fashion and hair choices vs public perception, because it seems to be in your favor currently.” Bianca’s advice is wise and on time. It also is very much giving off teacher vibes, just another thing you two can connect on.  

You’re really happy you asked her to come visit you. 

That you gave her a chance.

It’s proving to be a really good decision.

“Well, I’m gonna have my mom do my silk press while I’m there, so there’s that.” Typically, you avoid heat like the plague, sucking up the pain in the ass wash days to keep your curls hydrated and thriving. However, you’re okay with every now and then sitting in that damn chair for what feels like, and is, hours for these special occasions. And attending the Hall of Fame awards as well as WrestleMania definitely constitutes a special moment. “As far as fashion…..I have no idea. I don’t really have a lot of fancy clothes, and the ones I do have are before Callie and even now with the weight I’ve gained from this pregnancy already, I don’t know if I can still wear them.”

“Well then it’s obvious what we need to do.” Alexis says with a ‘duh’ tone. “We need to go find you some dresses! Like, today.”

“I probably do need to pick up something too.” Kaylah says with a heavy sigh. “I think Josh said something about wearing red.”

“Of course you have to wear red. That’s Bloodline colors.” 

You chuckle at Bianca’s enthusiasm. It’s kinda cool that she’s also into wrestling. You’re so tempted to ask Joe if he can get tickets for her, Darius, and Taylor, but you also don’t want to do too much. It already means a lot to you that he got tickets for your mom and Alexis. 

“I hate to pull the girls from their playing. They must be having a blast considering not one has come down in like over an hour.” It’s true. Not to mention you can also occasionally hear the chorus of giggles and shouting indicating just how great a time they’re having.

“I can watch them for ya’ll.”Jadah’s suggestion causes all sets of eyes to land on her. She rolls her eyes. “You all go get the shopping done, and I’ll stay here with the kids.”

“Jadah, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. I’m not really that big on shopping anyway.” Finally. A difference between her and Alexis. “Plus, I have some client stuff I can get caught up with.”

You’re still reluctant, offering her another out. “If you’re sure….”

“Y/N, I would hope by now you’ve figured out I’m too blunt to lie. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” Jadah shrugs, directing her next statement to Kaylah and Bianca. “If you’re also good with it too, of course.”

Bianca and Kaylah echo agreement with you, hence it being decided.

With a chuckle, you announce, “I guess we’re going shopping.”

———-

Things have been hard since you first landed back in your hometown.

Saying goodbye to your students was hard. 

Saying goodbye to friends in town has been hard. 

Bidding farewell to the apartment you first brought your sweet little girl home to after she was born was very hard.

Visiting your grandma’s grave one last time for who knows how long…..that’ll be brutal.

But this….confronting your father for the last time…

To say you’re a bit on the anxious side is putting it nicely. 

This was always going to be on the nerve inducing side for a variety of good and valid reasons. It’s just getting to the moment where it happens, where you sit in the parking lot of the restaurant he agreed to meet “you” at is just bringing out some indecision you’re certain comes from a place of anxiety.

Finally stepping out of the car, you and Bianca reach the door of the restaurant when she turns to you, mouth turned into a bit of a frown as she reminds, “you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s not about what I want to do. It’s about what I need to do, Bianca.” It’s the truth. This isn’t something you’ve been dying to have happen your entire life, but for the sake of your healing, it’s what needs to happen. “But, if you feel uncomfortable, I totally get—”

“Not at all.” She reaches for your hand. “You’ve got this.”

A deep breath followed by a head nod as you accept her hand. She gives you a little squeeze and opens the door, leading the way figuratively and literally. As expected, he’s already there and waiting, sitting near the back of the restaurant. You’re not surprised a man like him is right on time. He seems like the punctual bastard type.

And Bianca has reiterated as such before. 

Together, you walk hand in hand towards him. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he lights up with a genuine smile at seeing Bianca, but that smile almost instantly drops when he sets his gaze on you.

Expected. 

Wholly expected.

Immediately, his nose is turned up in visible disgust, primarily directed toward you. “Bianca, what is the meaning of this?”

“What?” Her voice is full of nonchalance as is the expression on her face. “I told you your daughter wanted to speak with you.”

He just didn’t know which daughter.

There’s no denying or misunderstanding his anger at the subterfuge. He shoots up from the table. “I’m not putting up with—”

Bianca is quick with it, assertively informing him, “if you want even a chance of seeing Taylor again, you’re gonna sit right back down and hear her out.” It means the world to you that not only has Bianca agreed to be here with you today, but it’s the fact that she’s willing to be so loyal to you.

Like a sister.

Because she is your sister. 

He scoffs almost immediately. “Using my grandchild to blackmail me? That’s low, Bianca. Your mother and I raised you better than that.”

She crosses her arms and matches his energy. “You are the last person that needs to be talking about raising anyone.” She then looks at you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “I’ll be right over there if you need me, okay?”

Nodding, she gives you one last supportive squeeze and ignores her father to walk over and slide into a booth across the room. 

Left alone, you watch him begrudgingly sit down so he’s across from you, same set of brown eyes locking. It kills you how much of yourself you can see in him, starting with the same set of eyes. You just have to remind yourself that that’s where the similarities end. 

“This won’t take long, which I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear.” He doesn’t agree nor disagree, not that it makes much of a difference to you. At all. “I’m moving from this town. Tomorrow’s the day I hand over my keys, and I’ll officially be living in Florida full time. Not that you care, because we both know you never have and never will give a flying fuck about me.”

“Is there a point to this?” The edge in his voice, maybe even a couple months ago, might have killed you. Stolen your joy. Now, it does nothing. He no longer has that power over you, because you’ve taken that power back. 

And it feels so damn good.

“I did it, you know.” Without giving him a chance, if he even would, to respond, you continue. “I made something of myself. I’m successful. I have a career. I found love all without you ever doing a goddamn thing for me.”

For a second, you swear you see a different emotion flash in his familiar irises, but it’s gone almost instantly, replaced with that permanent disdain you refuse to allow sway you from your goal.

“I have a man who loves me in every single healthy way that exists, who loves our daughter more than there are words in all the languages put together.” Emotion chokes you up, but you manage to stick with the mental points you made for this conversation. “And you wanna know something? We conceived her when he was still married.”

Leaning forward as you lower your voice, both for privacy and emotionality. “But, I didn’t tell him. I deprived him and our little girl for the first almost five years of her life because I was so scared that he was going to be like you, that he was going to reject her and hurt her the way you hurt me.”

It’s a bit painful for you to verbalize those words, but also so damn liberating to free them from the confines of your subconscious.

To also release those shackles they had on you. 

“But, I was so so so wrong, because he is the best damn dad she could have asked for, and he was angry with me for not telling him about her. He wanted to be in her life. He wanted her. And it’s through that I finally realized something.”

Your voice cracks as you finally release your truth and acknowledge freedom from over 30 years of emotional bondage.

“I’ve finally realized after all these years that it’s not that I’m not good enough for you.” You shake your head, pointing at him with all the intention and determination you can muster up. “You’re not good enough for me. Not good enough to be my dad. Definitely not good enough to be a grandfather to my kids. Not good enough to be in my life.” There isn’t an ounce of hesitation or a stutter in your voice. “It’s not that I don’t deserve to be in your life. You don’t deserve to be in mine. You never did, and you never will.”

And never again will you seek out that love and validation from him. You don’t need it. 

You never did.

“I actually feel sorry for you, because I am an amazing, strong black woman who was raised by an even more amazing, strong black woman who was also raised by a phenomenal black woman. And my daughter….” Just thinking about Callie, her warm smile and the great big hug she gave you, before you and Bianca left her and Taylor with your mom, makes you all choked up again. “—is the kindest, sweetest, smartest kid you could ever meet. But as long as there is breath in my body, you will not know her or any other kids I bring into this world.”

That’s a promise, an oath, a swear on everything that you love and hold dear.

“After today, you are dead to me, and I truly hope you one day see all that you missed out on, but I’m not going to wait around for that. I’m going to spend the rest of my life surrounded with love and family because that’s what I deserve.” Grabbing your purse and sliding out the booth, you make eye contact with Bianca who starts to head over. “Take care, Captain Wilson.”

As soon as she’s at your side, he shoots up from the booth. “Bianca, if you leave with that girl—”

“That woman,” Bianca corrects with all the sharpness. “You mean my sister?”

His lips turn up with a hateful snarl. “This hoodrat trash is not your sister.”

You actually laugh at his words, laugh at the fact that he’s truly so pathetic and a piece of shit he couldn’t even take any of what you just said to heart. It also makes you wonder if he’s aware of all the shit that’s been happening online regarding you. Not that it makes a difference.

It’s just something else he would try to use to justify not being in your life.

Like a coward.

“No.” She lifts her chin, taking your hand. “She is my sister, but you?” Bianca shakes her head, and you can hear the emotion catch in her voice. “You’re not my father. You’re the trash.”

If he offers a visible response to her harsh words, you’ll never know because Bianca tugs on your hand, directing the both of you to turn around as she marches you out the restaurant. Once out of the vicinity, she spins you around and brings you in for a big, loving hug.

“I’m so damn proud of you.” Eyes closing, you accept and lean into her embrace. You’re also insanely proud of you. “You said what you had to say. The ball is in his court now.”

“I highly doubt he’s gonna do anything with it.” Separating, you again thank her. “I really appreciate you being here with me today. I’m not sure Joe would have been okay with me doing this, if you weren’t here.”

She smirks, head tilted to the side. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, hun.”

It’s the truth. Along with the fact that you’re not even sure you would and even could have gone through with this if not for her assistance and support. It’s crazy how the people you’ve met in recent months have become such important figures in your life and the people you thought were important are now strangers.

Life….always a wild ride, for sure.

“And speaking of Joe….” She’s understandably confused as you casually throw out, “guess who’s going to WrestleMania with her little sister?”

Bianca’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Seriously?” Laughing, you nod. “Oh my god—” She captures you in another big hug, the two of you nearly hopping like damn teenagers. “Wait, just me or—”

“Of course not. Taylor and Darius too. I feel like he might divorce your ass if you tried to go without him.”

“You’re not entirely wrong.” Her laughter lessens as she looks at you with admiration and appreciation. “You really didn’t have to do that, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal.” And it wasn’t. After biting the bullet and pushing aside unnecessary anxiety, you just shot Joe a text asking if there was any way Bianca and her family could attend Mania. His response was an almost instant yes. “Besides….we’re sisters.” Your eyes begin to water as you give a one shoulder shrug. “We look out for each other.”

Her smile matches the emotionality of this moment. “You’re damn right we do.” Sniffling, she wipes her eyes and then gasps. “Shit, now I need to find a dress. Does this town have any stores where I could maybe find something?”

Her question is so laughable. “Not really, sis. Let’s just wait till we fly home. I’m sure we could find you something there. Maybe the boutique where I got my dresses."

Home…..

You’re not sure if you’ve referred to Florida as home prior to this moment, but it feels so good, so right. Like it’s where you’re supposed to be. Where you were always supposed to be. 

Home with your daughter, with your man, with the baby growing inside you.

With your family.

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Sorry I like my men toxic and nobody can convince me that Tseng would give you a fully healthy relationship. He’s just not the worst guy you could date. So here are some of Tseng’s toxic habits. I wish we could post powerpoint slides. Like I guess NSFW for my choice of words. Edit: Okay I’ve typed more. It’s NSFW, it wasn’t that when it was just scattered notes i swear. granted, this is still scattered notes

Forgiveness?

Tseng. The man you forgive a million times because someone like him is so hard to come by. Even if you’re a person who doesn’t tolerate bullshit. You know that it would be impossible to find anyone nearly as good as him despite his mistakes. Tseng knows this too, taking advantage of your level of comfort in him. The connection between the two of you so deep there wasn’t a possibility you could view life without him. Tseng creates soul bonds with his significant other, he has to have all of you fully invested in him. You would also want for absolutely nothing, he can provide everything you could ever want so you can focus on the future you want to build for yourself. Whether it’s school, art, creating your own business, etc. Tseng is there to guarantee everything goes according to plan if it’s financially or if he has to pull a few strings. Seeks out people who would be reluctant to replace him but aren’t very co-dependent. If you manage to leave Tseng, say good riddance to developing any new relationships. He’s either going to make any of your new significant others vanish. If it’s someone he can’t kill, he’ll find a way to scare them away from you or find a way to put them in prison. 

My alternative reasoning as to why all of your other relationships would fail? The dick of course. Yes. The unbelievable wee wee. There’s not a soul in the world that would be able to learn your body the way he does. Have you ever heard of people being nearly ready to pass away because they lost their dick? Well if you haven’t, you have now. Even thinking of him fucking someone else the way he does with you is enough to make you want to vomit. That shit will have you sliding down the wall crying. You can try all you like to fuck someone else, it won’t compare. The way he touches you immediately sends electricity down your spine. It’s all in the way he knows how to touch you. Where to touch you. A subtle brush of his fingers along the small of your back while you’re riding him. An almost tickling sensation that causes you to press yourself against him as he leans up to kiss the most sensitive parts of your neck. How about when all he needs to do is look into your eyes and knows exactly how you want to be fucked? You can’t think of a time you had to ask him to do anything, your minds were seemingly in perfect sync. Always so so willing to please you. “So you wanna fuck other people huh?” He whispers in your ear mockingly while driving his cock deeper into you. Your knees pressed against your chest, legs hooked in Tseng’s arms as he ensures you won’t slip out of your position. No, you really don’t, not when he’s reminding you of what you’ll be missing. You’ll be calling him the next day for more, innocently asking for him to come over to “talk”. There won’t be much talking, just Tseng bending you over the kitchen table. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks himself into you so deeply, ignoring the way your hands push against his abdomen in a half-hearted attempt to slow his tempo down. 

There aren’t many people in this world that would be nearly as attentive as he is. The way he can easily tell all of your needs within moments of talking to you. Reads you like a book and it can’t help but make your heart flip, cause like, ‘who sent this man?’ and why does he know all of your emotional needs and exactly how to take care of them? Tseng carries aspects of his job along with his relationships. The same way he gets to know his enemies closely, he’ll do the same to you. Memorizes all of your sayings, even can predict what your response would be to most questions or statements. It’s almost more eerie than heart warming. With this comes the ability to manipulate you endlessly. Gaslighting has never been easier honestly. Lying to you about anything or forcing you to agree with his point of view would be child’s play. The way he carries himself during an argument, so well composed, rarely letting his emotions control him paired with the way he effectively strings his words together to soothe you. His calmness will make you question why you’re even so worked up. Tseng isn’t, so why are you? Tseng makes you see everything through rose colored lenses, and despite your aching heart when he hurts you, Tseng could never be wrong in your eyes. He only does what’s best for you. 

Gaslighting? Probably.

Truly remembers every word you’ve said to him and will use it against you. This goes back into my last little paragraph but deeper? Uses traumatic things from your past so you can believe that maybe your emotions, in regards to something Tseng has done wrong, are nothing more than misguided reactions. Will have you think that maybe you’re projecting your fears from past experiences onto him when you challenge him or try to hold him accountable for any wrongdoings. Certainly will guilt trip you knowing exactly what makes you feel like you’re the biggest piece of shit in the world. He doesn’t have to do anything outrageous. It’s the way Tseng subtly changes his body language. Slumping his shoulders just a bit, the way his brow furrows at your words or actions, breaking eye contact and staring at the floor like a scolded child. To put the cherry on top, it’s the ever so slight change in his tone of voice. The wavering in his tone as he speaks softly, not too soft for it to sound out of the ordinary, but enough for you to believe you’ve hurt his feelings. Usually resulting in you coddling him, now you’re the one apologizing because you “never meant to make him feel bad” even if it’s because you were grilling him for something as major as fucking his boss behind your back. Believing that it must be your fault if he’s off sleeping with others. Master manipulator for sure. He’s good at lying, like we see what he does for a living.

Like to make you cry because he's the only one that can also make you better. At times he’ll do this just to make sure he’s got complete control over you still. Wrapping his arms around you in such a calming way, his warmth and sweet words coaxing you to relax against him so he could “make it all better again.” More makeup sex. Somehow gets a kick out of cheering you back up. One minute you were sobbing because his words were a little too cruel and now you’re sobbing because he won’t stop fucking you so good. Tseng has a way he likes to position you in times like this. Having you lay on your stomach, your back arched just enough for his hips to flush against your ass as he completely sheaths himself in you, whispering in your ear asking “you still love me, right?” Christ, he has a way of making himself emotionally needy at just the right times. You can’t help but whimper, whine, and eventually choke out, through your moans, your appreciation, love, and devotion to him. Always ends with him cuming in you, some aftercare, then holding you in his arms for a majority of the night unless work calls him away.

Sometimes-y af?

He can pick and choose when he wants to pick up your relationship or not but you cannot do the same to him. Loves someone who he can come and go as he pleases with. You're so stupid and willing. Loyal to a fault, though the only person it’s negatively affecting is you. There isn’t a time you’ve turned him away thus far. Constantly taking him into your arms, babying him as though he’s some angel despite you knowing he isn’t. Tseng’s just managed to get you to the point you couldn't care less about his deceptive ways. You just want him by your side, no matter what the circumstances may be. The entire world can see the invisible leash and collar Tseng has put on you, yet you manage to stay blind to it all. You’ll wait like the good little puppy he’s molded you into. 

It’s a wonder he can be such a gentleman and a conniving son of a bitch. The kind to end an argument by demanding to be left alone but will ask “what you're doing tonight” a few hours later---he's going to fuck you—giving you a reason to keep accepting him back into your loving arms. He knows you’re a gift from the Goddess but he can’t help that he likes being toxic at times. It’s why he treats you so well and the sex is so unbelievably good. He needs to cement himself into your soul so he can continuously get away with everything, so things can continue to go exactly as he wants it to. Tseng prefers a life with you that has no consequences. For him. You, however, have to deal with punishment if you dare treat him in a similar manner to his treatment of you. Will show his displeasure with hurtful words and by neglecting you. If that doesn’t have the desired effects he’s willing to scare you into submission. Once again, nothing too outrageous that he would do. Tseng might just choke you a bit, push you against a wall, or if you try to run he’ll hold you against him tightly. Whispering into your ear about making you disappear if he can’t have you the way he wants you. Telling you how he does so much for you and he at the very least deserves you on your best behavior at all times or else he might just have to break that pretty neck of yours. Isn’t too big on yelling, he can get his point across just fine without having to do so.

Stalker? Obviously.

Tseng has trackers in your cars, phone, and bags. It doesn’t matter where you go, he’s going to find you. He’s definitely followed you from location to location, making sure you were doing what you said you would be. Sure he’s always been able to track you, but that isn’t the same as seeing you. You could be doing anything in the areas you claimed to be in. Tseng is even familiar with the faces of employees of each store you frequent. Has tracked down every family member and friend of yours, performing thorough background checks on all of them. Even closely looking after some of the people closest to you. Tseng has to approve of the people you hang around of course, he won’t tolerate anything that he feels is a negative influence and will force them out of your life. Tseng will sit outside of your house for hours after leaving, wondering if someone will come over. If he knows someone is coming over he’s got your home mic’d. Listening to all of your conversations, evading your most private conversations. Hates to hear when you vent about him, makes it hard to come back to you and act nice when in reality he wants to correct you for telling his business to your friends and family. Doesn’t mind when you’re speaking highly of him though, you help boost his ego most of the time. Getting space from Tseng is impossible. Your attempts to drive around and find a nice parking spot are all for nothing. He’s following right behind you. Is definitely going to block you in with his own car, angrily getting out of his own. Once he made you leave your car where it was entirely. Pissed that you would try to get away from him at all, it doesn’t matter if it’s just for a few hours. Pushing you into the passenger seat of his car, driving you back home all while yelling about how stupid you were and that you would always come back begging for him. 

He was always right about that. Nothing would stop you from wanting Tseng back if he finally decided he was done. A relationship with Tseng is either on his terms or very much a “till death do us part” 

[patroxlos]

home base . ch8

"friends who are for the people" - 6.7k words

ultraman: rising (2024). kenji sato x reader

master post. ao3 link.

previous: ch7. "friends who use their phones in bed"

next: [SOON]

When you said you were busy with your own things, you meant it.

You have your own fun when Kenji is not around.

---

Dr. Onda has a special ability to be the most imposing person in the room.

Even in front of a long panel of the most important figures in Tokyo, he intimidates with the glare from his shades and his permanent frown. His second-in-command is much more approachable with his youthful face and calm but reliable demeanor, but Captain Aoshima can only do so much with his digestible powerpoint slides and well-crafted charts to lessen the heavy air of the room.

“...and you can see in this graph, that with your help, the KDF has managed to expand our fleet to tackle airborne kaiju. Our aviators have suffered less injuries due to the fortification of our aircrafts, and we are able to more efficiently terminate kaiju with our updated munitions. Any questions?” Captain Aoshima glances around the room to check whether the board was following.

They only nod, some casting glances towards Dr. Onda as he stood at the side to monitor his assistant’s presentation. The KDF’s board is composed of some of the most decorated war veterans, politicians, and arms dealers in the country, yet all are wary towards the senior researcher.

All except you.

“Captain, I have a question,” You say. You look up from the comprehensive board report they had passed around earlier, neat inside a plain black folio. “You discussed that the updated munitions arming the refurbished planes are necessary for more efficient ejection of projectiles, correct?”

“Yes, Director.”

You swallow.

You don’t think you earned the title compared to the others seated at the long table–this being your first board meeting, after all–but you let it go. They will sense weakness if you do not appear more confident. You continue your line of inquiry. “The report states that we have not introduced new projectiles in the armory within the quarter, yet based on the most recent kaiju attack, I have noticed that your fleets utilized non-lethal tranquilizers on the target. I reviewed the previous reports from the past five years and there has not been any mention about the research and development of such. May I ask why there was this omission?”

Murmurs broke out amongst your fellow board members. You keep your eyes trained at the commanding captain. He does not seem fazed at all by your question; he merely turns to look at Dr. Onda, who nods back, for permission to answer.

“Yes, Director. The tranquilizers were not mentioned in the quarterly review because they were not a recent development nor acquisition. They have been archived in our inventory for a better part of two decades. However, I can assure that our aviation ordnancemen checked prior to its use whether they are still effective as they were when they were first developed.”

You cross-check the provided digital database, manipulating the holographic screen. The inventory displays the potent tranquilizers. You skim over the document, pausing momentarily when you catch a line of text stating ‘Developer: Dr. Emiko Sato.’ You swipe away from the tab.

“Why take out old tranquilizers from storage for this specific kaiju?” You inquire.

“It was imperative for us to take this Kaiju alive.”

At the corner of your eye, you notice the Chairman of the Board stand up from his seat. Of course, as he is also Japan’s Minister of Defense, he has the most interest in increasing the KDF’s productivity. “And for what reason did you feel it was necessary to keep that kaiju alive?! I thought we agreed that the infrastructural costs outweigh the necessity to study these monsters?”

With a flick of his wrist, the Minister pushes one of the holographic screens to the center of the room. It plays the footage of that abnormally small, pink kaiju that ran through the streets a week prior. You see yourself on the screen get picked up, and you get phantom pains on your body as you remember how constricting the hold of that kaiju was. The stares of the other directors stab into your skin as they also recognize you from the footage.

Before anyone else can make a comment, Dr. Onda steps forward. The Minister falls back down on his chair, startled that the man has decided to finally speak after two hours in the boardroom.

“Captain Aoshima, thank you. I will take over the presentation for now.” He commands attention despite not raising his voice. Even if his eyes are covered, even you can feel the wuthering stare he sends towards the Minister. “Minister, while I respect your position as Chairman of the Board, I don’t think it is part of your responsibilities to scold my subordinates. Let your grievances out towards me.”

While the panel is silenced due to fear, you instead are stricken with respect for the older man. You appreciate how he takes care of his workers. Although, you still have your own job to do.

“Very well, Dr. Onda,” you speak up and everyone’s focus is now back on you. “Does this kaiju have anything to do with your current updates on Project Surrogate?”

He actually looks impressed, and you try not to look too pleased about his nod of approval. “Yes. I will move the presentation along towards it.”

The screen in front of you now presents a concise, bulleted summary of action points that Project Surrogate aims to achieve. This isn’t new to the panel, and the project needs no introduction. After all, it has been in development for the past five years, and most of taxpayer money being invested in the KDF has went towards it.

Project Surrogate’s main objective echoes that of the KDF’s original purpose: to locate Kaiju Island. It is hinged on the long-standing theory that Kaijus exhibit homing behavior towards their island of origin. Since it has been notoriously difficult to track adult Kaiju to the island, Project Surrogate hypothesizes that infant Kaiju might make it easier. The KDF has spent nearly half a decade trying to find proof of juvenile kaiju, until they finally stumbled onto a nest.

You have studied all of the declassified information on the project, yet even with your clearance level, you and the Board are kept out of the loop from Dr. Onda’s plans.

“We have seen this slide before,” you say, a bit frustrated as you stare at the screen. “Can we skip towards the project’s developments?”

Bowing slightly to your direction, he acquiesces to your request and switches to the photo of Gigantron, Queen of the Kaiju. Stepping forward, he begins his presentation. “Project Surrogate has made large progress since we have discovered the nest of Gigantron at the town of Oshima, by its coast. It has confirmed for us that kaiju, or in particular Gigantron, do not necessarily lay eggs nor reproduce exclusively in their island. The evidence in the surrounding area suggests that this is not the first time Gigantron has laid her eggs there.”

“Is it possible that Gigantron has natal homing?” You ignore the murmurs of confusion around you, but you do spot a few board members rolling their eyes at your display of proficiency.

You’re trying too hard to impress others, they think. Everything you do is performative. At your core, you’re just as dumb and vapid as everyone says you are.

“Indeed,” Dr. Onda nods your way. “This display of migratory behavior brings us closer towards finding Kaiju Island, as the infant would soon be instinctively motivated to fly away from our territory.”

The slide changes to the baby kaiju, and the pieces begin falling in place for the Board. The egg had hatched, and the kaiju has been alive for a few months at the moment. You raise another question. “Has the child been in KDF custody this entire time? Can you explain why it was allowed to roam the streets of Tokyo?”

“Unfortunately, the egg was stolen from us by Ultraman, and it had hatched under his control.”

Loud, outraged murmurs broke out amongst the board. Ultraman? Isn’t he supposed to be on our side?

 “Wait, Dr. Onda,” the Minister says. “So, even after the Tokyo fiasco, Ultraman still has custody over the kaiju?”

“Yes.”

A gruff-looking general shouts “Then doesn’t that mean Project Surrogate is a bust?”

“Hardly.” Even at the face of angry investors, Dr. Onda keeps his cool. He simply changes the slide to show an image of Ultraman cradling the kaiju against his chest while he hangs from the side of Tokyo Tower. Chills run down your spine. It is as if Ultraman was in the room himself, staring down everyone with a righteous fury.

Like a mother holding her child close, baring her teeth at the dangers that creep near.

“Due to Ultraman letting the kaiju loose on the streets, we have learned that the baby is capable of echolocation. It is possible that adult kaiju use echolocation at a frequency our sensors fail to pick up, but this child uses it as clear as day. Once we recapture the kaiju from Ultraman, we can set it free to the ocean and follow it towards Kaiju Island.”

As Dr. Onda finishes relaying the plan to the room, murmurs of approval soon broke the silence. The plan is reasonable, but you still remained unconvinced that he is telling you everything. You open the quarter report again, this time towards the expenditures for Project Surrogate.

“The plan does not seem clear to me yet, Dr. Onda. How sure are we that the KDF will be able to track the kaiju as it navigates through open waters?” You probe.

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that for now,” He dodges your question.

“And what about the amount of lithium and uranium in the itemized budget? If you wanted to make bombs I would prefer it if you declare it.”

“We are making bombs, that is nothing new at the KDF. That is as much declaration I can make,” he dismisses your concern.

“So you do have a more thorough plan that you are not telling us about?”

“For two decades, the KDF and its Board of Directors have operated together with a strong sense of trust. You might not be familiar with it now, since this is your first meeting with us as a board member, but soon you will be.”

“But—” Shit. You are getting a little frazzled as he points out your inexperience. “Okay, that’s beside the point. What about Ultraman? The continuation of this project hinges on the KDF tracking his location, but he remains an elusive figure to the Japanese people.”

Dr. Onda gestures towards the Minister of Defense. “We will double down our efforts into tracking him, and we are encouraging the people to send to our tip line any sightings of the vigilante. Our chairman has been most helpful in declaring Ultraman persona non grata.”

“With much public backlash,” the Minister comments.

Another board member pipes in. “Ultraman is seen as a Japanese icon. The favorability of KDF has been declining steadily in the past several months, but it has been crashing to the gutter ever since the announcement that Ultraman is wanted.”

The meeting is getting derailed as the Board grows restless with the lack of direction in the KDF, exposed by you. You are starting to wonder whether you should have just sat there and listened like the others were.

Soon it ends, and everyone begins to shuffle out of the board room. You personally bow to each of the board members before they leave, half of them sizing you up but the rest giving you their blessings for being part of the team. Either way, your stomach turns.

You approach Captain Aoshima, and do the same bow towards him. “Thank you for that presentation, Captain. I look forward to seeing more of you in the future.”

“Likewise,” he returns the courtesy, though after he rises from his bow he fiddles with his pockets. “Actually, before you leave, ah– sorry, this is a bit unprofessional.”

You already have a feeling on what he is going to ask, but it still humors you slightly that he is breaking a bit of his respectful decorum that you know him for. You glance around the room, and the only people left are you, the captain and Dr. Onda. At least no one else is there to make fun of what you’re about to do. “Sure, we can take a photo.”

Aoshima brightens significantly. “Thank you, my daughter would be thrilled. Is it okay if you record a greeting as well? It’s her birthday soon.”

“She knows who I am?” Your eyes widen.

He thinks you’re being too modest. “She used to follow you before you deleted your accounts.”

“Then, it’s no problem! Sorry if I might seem a bit awkward. I haven’t done this in a while so I’m a bit rusty,” you laugh nervously.

You take his phone from his hands, angling the camera for a self-photo with him at your side. The recording goes just as smoothly, with you giving a small pep talk on how his daughter should focus on her studies. Captain Aoshima bows in gratitude, glowing with the excitement of a father who will do anything in the world for his kids.

Dr. Onda watches as his assistant leaves the room, leaving you and him alone. Swallowing your nervousness, you turn to the man and give a respectful bow. “Thank you for the meeting, Dr. Onda. The KDF remains safe in your hands.”

His silence makes you a bit more nervous. It is one thing for you to conduct a thorough interrogation during a quarterly board meeting, it is another making small-talk.

“I’ll…be going?” You try to have a smooth exit, but he raises his hand to signal you to stay.

“I was never fond of businessmen meddling with the organization,” he says, matter-of-fact.

“Well…Motsubishi prides itself in our social involvement—”

“Spare me the sales pitch, your father has done a lot of that when he served on the board,” he interrupts you. “I doubt you believe weapons development equates to welfare.”

“We only make it to the KDF,” you immediately rebut.

“Not fond of the dirtier sides of the business? Isn’t this what you’ve studied?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

You pocket your hands into your slacks. “I’m not entirely fond of profiting from war.”

“Would you call our fight against kaiju a war?”

“...You’re testing me.” You click your tongue. “Please, Dr. Onda.”

“You used to call me ‘Uncle’, when you played with Akiko.”

The room grows a little colder.

“Have you seen Hayao lately?” He changes topic, turning away from you.

“Can’t say I have, but I’ve seen him a couple of times since the incident,” you admit.

He gives a hum of acknowledgement.

“His knee is getting better, not that you asked,” you inform him, stepping forward to stand by his side. You look ahead as you speak. “I think…I think Kenji is taking care of him? Not sure, I didn’t get to confirm, but Emiko…before she disappeared…she told me that he flew all the way here just to take care of the Professor. It took a bit but I think they’re finally talking.”

It’s quiet again, for a moment. “And…Ultraman?”

“I…I don’t know who it is now, I’m sorry,” you don’t know why you are apologizing.

Dr. Onda merely sighs.

You turn to face him properly. “He doesn’t blame you, you know. For his knee.”

“I never asked for his forgiveness.” His face is steel, not betraying a hint of emotion. You see your worried face in the reflection of his shades. “Nor do I feel any sort of guilt.”

“You didn’t know he was Ultraman—”

“And even if I did, I still would have ordered the shot.”

You suck in a breath through your teeth.

“And I don’t make it a habit to shoot at superheroes. Ultraman was interfering with an official KDF extraction. It was necessary.” He remains stone-faced.

“You let him go.”

He walks away from you to another side of the room as he dismissively waves you off. “A mistake.”

“Admit it. You saw his crumpled body on the ground and you just let him go.” You follow, hot on his heels.

You nearly ram into him when he briskly stops in his tracks to turn to you. “I saw the crumpled body of my daughter’s killer and decided I wouldn’t stoop down to his level.”

“He is only one man.” You run a hand through your hair.

“Ultraman is not my enemy, but if he proves to be a nuisance that hinders us from achieving some peace in our shores, then I am not against making him one,” he booms. The conviction of his words might have shaken you, but you notice his shoulders sag slightly, defeated.

You cross your arms, tucking them close to your torso. “That’s…that’s one thing I agree on.”

“...Thank you.” You can tell he means it.

“The new Ultraman…he still needs to grow on me,” you divulge. “He kind of acts like some young hotshot. Seems pretty immature.”

“It’ll be easy to track him down then. But Hayao…he must have taught his new protégé all he knows about how to hide himself.”

“Doctor, you know that I am dedicated to help the KDF in anyway I can,” you affirm.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Even if it means going against your tutor?”

“I think we and Ultraman have the same goal,” you answer. “We all want to be able to keep the people of this city safe. I don’t know how useful I can be to Ultraman’s cause but I know that I can affect real change here in the KDF. Like how Emiko used to.”

He’s a bit unsatisfied with your reply, but his lips almost twitch into a smile at your, as he calls it, misguided idealism. “You should also go by Doctor, then.”

You wince at the title.

“I’ll pass.” Even if you did recently graduate, it feels like a brag. It does not help that most of the internet thinks you’re lying when you discuss your educational background.

“Receiving a doctorate at 26 is no easy feat. You deserve to be acknowledged for it,” he coolly praises you. The flattery is getting to you a bit, but you still avoid letting it seep in.

“Doesn’t seem to matter much to others,” you dismiss his words. “I’ve tried so hard to distance myself from my old image. I deleted all my social media. I have placed full attention into preparing myself for what I’m about to inherit and I’m still…It still isn’t enough.”

Dr. Onda pushes his shoulders back. “The media play against you has been rampant since you were younger. It is hard to push back against such schemes.”

At eighteen, you formally entered society.

At eighteen, you had the world at your fingertips.

At eighteen, your father officially named you as his successor. He did not have much of a choice, given that you were his only one.

At eighteen, you made enemies who to this day are intent that you stay far away from the title Chief Executive Officer.

“My dad’s officially retiring within the month.”

“I’ve received the invitation to your welcoming gala,” he states. “Congratulations. While I’m not fond of public outings, since your father personally requested my appearance, I cannot say no.”

“I need a win.” Your arms fall to your sides, hands balling into fists. “I refuse to be driven out of the company my family built.”

His shades reflect a small flash of light. “Is this the purpose of our chat?”

“Project Surrogate. I need this to work. If the KDF can get stronger public approval I can solidify my position.”

“I can’t guarantee anything,” he warns you. “And I’m not doing this to satisfy anyone’s greed for power. This is for the people.”

“Because of the kaiju, I got separated from my best friend.” You place a hand over your heart. “And he grew up without a father. Believe me. My ambitions are here but I am fully committed to making this work.”

His hands clasp behind his back. “All I ask is for trust— an understanding, that I am using your investments for the greater good.”

You grin. “Where do I sign?”

A/N: hello … I’m not dead :D

And yes you are pro-KDF for now :D I think Dr. Onda is such a cool and well-written antagonist. DYK in early Ultraman he actually does just straight up kill the kaiju. From a utilitarian standpoint, kaiju are an invasive species. They’re not inherently bad but they don’t belong in the environment they are in. (I watch a lot of those lion fish exterminator tiktoks…)

If you saw on my Tumblr I posted a WIP snippet of what was supposed to go into this chapter, but ultimately I decided that maybe having a portion that focused solely on adding more context to who the reader is would help push the story forward. You go by a lot of different names around these parts! But next chapter would have too much Ken to make up for his absence here! The WIP I posted will be moved to ch10 as well :>

Since I’ve already finished a portion of the next chapter and it’s ready to publish in no time, as it’s a direct continuation from chapter 8’s flashback, here’s a snippet of its introduction so you know what’s in store!

——-

You hear a rapid knocking on the door.

You don’t register it at first, your head pounding from waking up too early. The only thing you can sense is Ken’s warm back against your bare chest, your hands around his waist. You press your face against the back of his neck, groaning at the hour. “Kenji, S’noisy.”

You feel his body shift, and he shrugs you off. “Y’face too cold…”

You just bite his shoulder and tug him closer. He lets you.

Soon, the knocking stops, but Kenji’s phone rings from the bedside table. Groaning, he blindly reaches for it to take the call, and you whine when he shifts in your hold. You realize that you won’t be able to get any sleep, so your eye cracks open to check the clock.

2:17 AM.

Now who—

“Kenji? Kenji are you awake? I’m outside your door. Please let me in.”

You both bolt up when you hear Emiko Sato’s voice from the phone. You slap his back to get him moving. “The sofa,” you hiss, lowering your voice.

Both of you struggle to keep quiet as you rush to find your clothes. Ken quickly pulls out the sofabed, and tosses rumpled blankets onto it to give an illusion that he’s been there the entire time. You find the bra he tossed away earlier on top of a nearby lamp. He grabs an air freshener can to spray lightly across the room— not too much for it to be obvious.

Ken opens the door just after you dive back into the covers, pretending to be asleep.

---

lmk if u want to be on the taglist for future chapters ty!

[sunfairyy]

Does anyone remember or know of the post that consisted of slides from a PowerPoint where they discussed the racism and orientalism in daredevil in regard to Elektra and Claire???? Also spoke about how they were always compared to Karen and put in a love triangle but Karen wouldn’t be seen as someone actively competing for Matt??

I am reposting this because i still haven’t found it 😭 please help me

[republicsecurity]

Dissidents Voice

I remember the first time they nailed me. Five‑digit alphanumeric code glowing in blue on the back of my collar—“K4J9Q,” I think—though memory’s a bit fuzzy after the third lecture on “public order and the uplifting benefits of neuro‐armored peacekeeping.” It was an environmental protest: we’d chained ourselves to the bulldozers at Lake Grünwald, chanting eco‑anarchist jingles, while the Enforcers in their jet‑black armor stood about like very large, very bored penguins. One of them—ID R7S2B, I later discovered—leaned over, visor gleaming, and said in perfectly modulated monotone, “Sir, you are in violation of Article 10(b) Subparagraph Delta: unauthorized leaf‑gathering.” I paused to check my clipboard: I was pretty sure gathering fallen leaves is legal. He sighed, tapped a gleaming gauntlet, and out popped the collar. It snapped closed with a satisfying click. I waved to my fellow protesters. “Remember,” I hollered, “every sprig of moss is worth ten megatons of bureaucracy!”

The transporter van took us to the Processing Center just outside the city. I spent the ride comparing notes with the other arrestees—a performance artist who had painted “Transparency Now!” on his chest, and a chap who’d been handing out pamphlets on resisting mind‑control. We swapped stories of surreal collar designs (“Mine vibrates when I think about tax law,” he claimed) and marveled at how each Enforcer’s collar was subtly different—a bespoke bit of hardware, etched with that unique five‑character badge which, I suspected, was the Uniform Department’s idea of personalization therapy.

At the center, the SOPS briefing was downright uplifting. They marched us through “Your Rights Under Compulsory Detainment,” complete with PowerPoint slides in soft green. Enforcer L3M8X, whose bulk suggested weekend weightlifting rather than any ideological fervor, delivered the presentation with all the enthusiasm of a man reading his own dental appointment reminder. “Please refrain from unauthorized protests of secrecy policies,” he droned, “or you will be invited to discuss civic harmony in a more… intimate setting.” I couldn’t help but whisper back, “Is that the one with the complimentary alpaca pajamas?” He stared—understandably confused—then shrugged and moved on.

My next collaring was for the mind‑control lecture. I’d set up near the Ministry of Cognitive Integrity with a banner that read, “Drop the Chips, Not the Mic.” Three Enforcers—A5V1R, D9P0T, and a third whose code I still can’t pronounce—rolled in, plastic boots crunching gravel. They didn’t even try to be subtle. I offered them pamphlets; one politely declined, then asked me to sign a waiver acknowledging I wouldn’t distribute any unauthorized literature. I scribbled my name and, thinking fast, added under “Signature”: “Will fight in court for the right to leaflet.” They vanished my collar with a little white flash and whisked me off again, leaving my banner drooping in the morning sun.

For my final (so far) outing—against the secrecy edicts—I chose the Great Glass Archive, where they keep all the state’s “Sensitive but Publicly Accessible” memos. The Enforcers arrived in force: six helmets, six pairs of black boots, one wayward pigeon that they shot for “aviation irregularities.” I was delivering my rousing “Sunlight Is the Best Disinfectant” oration when collar Z8W4N lit up. In mid‑sentence—“…and so we demand full disclosure of the budget for automated mood‑enhancement systems!”—I felt the gentle tug at my nape. A split second later, I was babbling about home‑freezing instructions (“which are definitely classified,” I protested) as they led me away.

You must think I hate these guys, but here’s the twist: they’re conscripts, mind‑conditioned to obey, as aware of the absurdity as I am. Once, during a lull at the jail, I asked Enforcer J1K7H why he didn’t just refuse the orders. He shrugged under that helmet. “If I stop obeying, I get re‑programmed,” he said. Then he paused. “Also,” he added sheepishly, “your jokes about administrative red tape keep me sane.”

So next time you see an activist sporting a shiny new collar, don’t be too quick to boo. There’s a good chance both sides are just actors in a very grim farce—one man’s civic duty is another man’s Performance Improvement Protocol. Besides, I like their collars: they lend a certain je ne sais quoi to my wardrobe.

[spooked-skull-studios]

fabric website sent the wrong coloured fabric the first time round and i couldn't tell until comparing the new fabric today and now Avox has a weird difference in tone between his head and tail and his neck, hands, feet and parts of his wings (i have less than 15 days to finish)

what he looks like pre-new fabric

might not even give him a neck tbh im so tired and i constantly feel like im one powerpoint slide away from going apeshit and our tutor is talking out her ass about topics she doesnt understand and keeps ADDING SLIDES TO MY PRESENTATION WITHOUT TELLING ME

[starlostlix]

COMPARING THE MORIARTY PLAN AND FUKUCHI'S PLAN!!!

Yes this is what I have been working towards! I started this powerpoint a few months ago, then left it for a while because of exams and generally being a bit busy, and now it's finally at a point where I consider it done. FINALLY. I kept getting new ideas but now I really think i've written all I currently have to say. I feel like i'm going back to my tumblr roots posting a powerpoint since it's kind of where I started out, and it's so fun to have another one to post (who knows how long it will be until I get another topic to write this much about).

The powerpoint appears in screenshots below (easiest way to post it tbh), and there is 16 total slides (slide 2 has a guide of all the topics covered really). Mentioning 'Moriarty' in this often refers to the whole Moriarty group and/or William in particular btw! The slides are as below:

Edit - I've had another idea for a difference. In MTP we are seemingly supposed to root for the Moriartys, as they are the morally grey protagonists of the show with noble intentions through immoral means. In BSD, we are to view Fukuchi as the antagonist until the true intentions of his plan is revealed, but even with the knowledge of his intentions it is unclear whether we are supposed to root for him. Sure the narrative tries to evoke sympathy, with revealing his desires of world peace and his manipulation at Fyodor's hands, but it was him who made the decisions that lead to his own downfall really. He's portrayed as both a victim and a perpetrator, and whichever one he is more of is dependent on who you ask - many leaning towards that despite his intentions he is a perpetrator. And that's perhaps the biggest difference between the two plans (which i forgot originally) - the Moriarty plan is designed to be the role of the protagonists and Fukuchi's plan is the role of the antagonist, yet both can be seen as morally grey in different ways.

So as a sort of conclusion here, some of the logistics and motivation of the plans turned out really similar! I kind of ran out of ideas for differences at the end as I'd explored so in depth on some of the similarities, but if anyone has any suggestions feel free to add in a reblog! And I hope people enjoy this post and find it interesting, since it's a topic I've not seen talked about... at all really. I hope this reaches all the people who like both BSD and MTP it would be really fun.

[stratostella]

not my 14 slide powerpoint comparing hajime and cappu w 3/4 of it locked behind spoilers

[hijinxinprogress]

Young Justice watches one piece together

They argue constantly over which pirate crew they are and none of them can agree

They’ve all made up power moves based on one piece

Every one piece backstory has Cissie, Kon, and Greta sobbing and dry heaving while an amused Cassie tries to console them

Whenever Robin says something morbid offhandedly they all turn and look at Tim who’s immediate response is ‘it’s not like she’s wrong-‘ while Anita agrees with him

During Momonosuke’s backstory, they all just stare at Bart bc he goes ‘hey it’s me’ while giggling which ended with Greta sobbing

Cassie compared Mr. Sarcastic to Sniper King & Tim made a powerpoint with over 300 slides explaining why they’re wrong

Cissie and Anita will explain in detail why they’d never lose to a devilfruit user (all of their plans involve drowning) while Greta points out the weak points in their plans

The entire team will wordlessly gesture to Tim whenever Nami or Usopp are lying, undercover, or just straight up doing shady shit

“My name’s Kon and I ate the tact-tact fruit now I have tactile telekinesis which means-” “stfu I don’t mention my powers that much” “yes tf you do” “wE dOn’T hAvE tO WoRrY mY tTk will-” “now it’s a crime to share things about myself with my friends??” “if I have to hear about your ttk again I don’t want to be friends”

Whenever it’s mentioned that characters parents are dead/abusive/estranged they all make fun of each other for being orphans or belonging to otherwise dysfunctional families

Bart was compared to the tontatta tribe for the entirety of Dressrosa and still gets shit for it

whenever a character explains their devil fruit it doesn’t matter if it’s once or every time their on screen, they look at Kon who’s very adamant that he does not sound like that

Cissie has threatened physical violence in response to being compared to both Uta and Yamato

Brook hadn’t even been on screen for five minutes before they had to pause bc Tim ordered Greta a piano while entire team compared Greta and Brook for over an hour

They referred to Tim as yj’s chief of staff for months, they had Bart change his position on young justice to chief of staff in his fucking file

Anita once told Cissie that her insults took little imagination much like the nickname’s Luffy gives people he doesn’t like

Then they teamed up to fight Tim who mentioned that their arguments were reminiscent of Zoro and Sanji’s

They compare each other to one piece characters all the time and it’s not in a friendly “haha hey you and this character like the same food” but evil ass shit that you’d have to fight someone for saying

“Another orphan!” “mf your parents are dead too!” “I don’t know why you’re giggling, yours aren’t even dead and they don’t want you”

“Big Mom and Pudding’s relationship is sorta like you and Superman” cue Kon pointedly sideyeing Bart and Bart jumping up to point at Tim with both hands who doesn’t even look away from the screen to point at Cissie 

“You see Luffy rn? That’s what Tim was like when Kon and Bart died, that’s what you left me to deal with” “You were like that too!”

“Oh, wow Brook also joined a cult after being separated from his friends” “separated?! mf I died” “tim YOU JOINED THE LEAGUE” “we’re all technically-” “no ra’s al ghul’s league” “TIM…tim what the hell”

“Do you think you and Sanji flirt with everyone in your immediate vicinity bc you need someone to validate your existence and you know your father never will?”

“You and Sanji have the same dumbass taste in code names” “wdym??” “red robin….soba mask” “soba mask is objectively worse??” “is it really though”

“Anita, wasn’t your grandfather also complicit in your parents death??” “more like directly responsible but fuck you”

“Anyone else seeing the similarities between Sterry and Sabo with Tim and Damian??”

“You and Bepo both apologize for existing, do you think he does it bc his mom doesn’t love him or is that just you?”

“A stoic badass with a sword-” “it’s not a fucking sword-” “-did I say I was done? that never had any semblance of a normal childhood so their trust issues and short temper are 74% of their personality” “I just want you to know I have your address” “proving my point rn”

“Has anyone else noticed that Greta and Baby5 will fall in love with any moron that gives them the slightest bit of positive attention?” Tim and Greta making offended noises but not disagreeing 

“Dead parents, fanboy, hates life, idiot friends, 37 complicated ass convoluted fucking plans with a million steps for a simple ass mission, and gets a little too aggressive when their plans aren’t being followed, am I talking about Law or Tim?” “you’re my idiot friends, you fuCKING-” “see!?”

“Kon, you fly and some psycho created then abandoned you along with ruining your self-esteem” “the fucking CLOUD??? why wouldn’t it fly you goddamn asshole” “that’s your issue?!” “well maybe you shouldn’t say dumb shit to me”

“Hey, Zoro also has dead childhood friends-” “why don’t you go-”

“Look, an impulsive moron doing reckless shit in a whole ass suit with absent/abusive parents from a wealthy background, does this sad adrenaline junkie remind you of anyone?” “yeah you you fucking moron-” “what fucking money do I have-” “he means lex” “well, I also said suit you ever see me in a fucking suit, genius?” “You didn’t specify what kind of suit, genius”

“Do you think you and zoro are so mistrusting of others bc you had to take care of yourselves from a young age??” 

“You ever think about the fact that every adult in you and robins life disappointed you when you needed them?” “which robin?” “either tbh” “okay, fuck all of you”

[mariacallous]

On the first episode of “Paul American,” a new reality-TV show currently streaming on Max, the YouTuber, influencer, and wrestler Logan Paul mounts a PowerPoint pitch for his fiancée, the Danish supermodel Nina Agdal, in order to convince her that being on reality television would benefit the couple. Logan and his younger brother, Jake Paul—himself a YouTuber and influencer, who has also turned to boxing—have been famous for more than a decade now, and reality television, Logan explains to Agdal, would be the apex of the pyramid that the siblings have been scaling. “This show is part of my natural evolution,” Logan says, pulling up a slide featuring a stock graphic of the step-by-step development from ape to Homo sapiens. Each figure in the chart is labelled for a stage in Logan’s career path, from the defunct short-form video-hosting platform Vine, on which the Paul brothers got their start, through vlogging, podcasting, and, finally, live-TV wrestling and boxing. The definitive stage in this years-long development, Logan concludes, is “the family reality-TV show.”

Agdal cracks up: the pitch is clearly tongue-in-cheek, and yet it nonetheless corresponds to the goal “Paul American” is trying to achieve, which is to present Logan and Jake, for the first time, as fully fledged human beings rather than half-baked Neanderthals. With all we know about reality television—its cunning edits, its cooked-up story lines, its behind-the-scenes manipulations—it might seem like a stretch to view the genre as an opportunity for the display of real, multidimensional individuality. Still, it’s all relative. Compared to the Pauls’ previous outputs, “Paul American” is practically “The Brothers Karamazov.”

Until now, authenticity and depth of character haven’t exactly been top of mind for either of the Pauls.

They came up as teen-agers on the Wild West internet of the twenty-tens, which saw the lucrative explosion of social-media and self-produced-content platforms. Born in Ohio to Pam, a nurse, and Greg, a real-estate agent, roofer, and loose cannon, who often appears on the show with a hunting knife strapped to his forearm (“Cancel culture can suck my ass all day long,” he says at one point), the brothers each found early success in 2013 by making pratfall- and prank-filled six-second Vines. Within a couple of years, they had moved to Los Angeles and taken their enterprise to YouTube. Jake enacted physically risky, increasingly extravagant stunts at the Team 10 influencer house (erecting an enormous snow slide outside the mansion; turning the house into a trampoline park), while Logan developed a reputation in his own vlogs as a stunt-happy jokester bro (bringing sixty thousand pounds of snow to California; freaking out a new roommate with a live alligator).

As their careers grew, Logan’s and Jake’s brand building grew more and more cartoonish. Similarly blond and muscled—the two are alike enough to be twins, though Jake now wears a bushy, jutting beard, whereas Logan’s is more closely cropped—the brothers often beefed. Logan stole Jake’s love interest, and each released a diss track tearing the other down. (Logan’s: “I’m a savage, you are average / I’m a beast I’m going wild / This song will be the death of you / I’m ’bout to be an only child.” Jake’s: “You thirsty for the views, call it Kalahari / You the Karate Kid and I’m Mr. Miyagi / You just a Prius and I’m a Bugatti.”) They drove luxury vehicles and flashed fat stacks of bills; they wore iced-out watches worth hundreds of thousands of dollars and courted mayhem and controversy. (In a 2017 vlog, Logan filmed the body of a suicide victim in Japan, a decision for which he later apologized; in 2020, Jake’s Calabasas mansion was raided for firearms.) Even before entering the actual ring, they had already fashioned themselves as pugilistic, larger-than-life characters, with nicknames to match (Jake: the Problem Child; Logan: the Maverick). Unsurprisingly, their content resonated largely with young men, and after amassing around a hundred and fifty million followers across major platforms they began to turn their online reach into success in some real-world ventures. Logan, who is now thirty, became a W.W.E. champ with his own energy drink, Prime; Jake, twenty-eight, became a boxer with a body-care line for men, W. (“You probably smell . . . get W at Walmart.”)

In all their endeavors, the Pauls’ chief aim has been to attract the maximum number of viewers and likes, which the pair freely discuss on the show. “Having your content be received by a lot of eyeballs is success,” Logan says. Controversy has played well with the brothers’ target audience: Logan’s diss track of Jake, for instance, is his “most-viewed video of all time,” a fact that he now claims he regrets, and “Paul American” works to show the brothers as newly reflective, softer, and ready to make amends. (“[Logan]’s the only one that knows what I’ve been through and I’m the only one that knows what he’s been through, and there’s a trauma bond in that,” Jake says, sounding surprisingly touchy-feely.) In 2021, the brothers moved to Puerto Rico, which, starting in 2012, became a tax haven, especially for high-net-worth individuals who’ve become rich thanks to cryptocurrency. Since the move they have grown closer, and have taken to training together—Jake with the goal of being a world-champion boxer, and Logan to strengthen his position in the W.W.E., so that he can “become the face of one of the biggest media conglomerates in the entire world.”

The road toward brotherly love, however, is shown to be a bumpy one. At one point, we see Logan hosting the British influencer and rapper KSI, who is Jake’s sworn enemy, on his podcast, and the two joke on air about Jake’s upcoming fight against Mike Tyson, whom he hopes to best. “It’s just not what brothers should do,” an irate Jake says. (Logan brushes the complaint off. Jake is “sensitive and I’m an asshole,” he says.) But Jake, who went pro in 2020, is presumably tender about this slight because he wants to move past being an influencer-boxer, who fights for likes, and emerge as a real-world champ, like Tyson himself was in his prime. Being able to deal definitive blows in a ring, at some remove from the online world, is Jake’s heart’s desire. Can he be, as the podcaster Joe Rogan suggests, in a clip shared on the show, “for real”?

The question of realness is one that comes up repeatedly in “Paul American.” Jutta Leerdam, Jake’s Dutch girlfriend, who is an Olympic speed skater, chides him when he slips back into vlog-like bombast. On a private jet, the pair take to Minnesota to visit the factory where the W body-care brand is produced, Jake clowns around, bellowing at the camera that Joe Biden—then still President—should use W because he’s “probably sweating through [his] suit.” But Leerdam is displeased by this performance. “Babe, this is reality. You are your character a lot,” she says. “So snap out of it . . . be a real person.” Jake throws his head back, as if considering this. “Boooring,” he finally brays. One of his employee friends, also on the flight, is heard saying off camera, “He’s a lost cause.”

Both Leerdam and Agdal, seem to affect Jake and Logan as ameliorating agents, but even they can’t make these leopards completely change their spots. The Paul-brother act is a hard thing to shed, and, after all, it’s where the money is. “The thing that keeps people glued is the shit show,” Logan says. He notes that he loves to fight in the W.W.E. because “I get to be a showman, I get to tell stories, and use it as a vehicle even to just promote my brands. Most of all, get paid.” When he and Jake pitch their reality show to various networks, they present it as “the testosterone Kardashians . . . you know, true hardcore American family.” As a clip of Logan receiving a MAGA hat from Trump flashes on the screen, alongside other moments—Jake brawling after a fight, Logan shooting a rifle, Pam rolling around in a pile of twenty-dollar bills—we hear Jake explain that “this is America, and we are from the heart of America.” On the way to watch Logan fight at a WrestleMania event in Philadelphia, on yet another private jet ride, Leerdam, who has never attended such a match, tells Jake that she’s not sure what to expect. “Well, a bunch of men—” he begins, as Leerdam cuts in. “It’s so American! It’s the most American thing ever!” Jake chuckles. “Well, yes, indeed, brother,” he says. 

[honeygrahambitch]

I too was told by a man that I am like a PowerPoint that has a lot of writing on the slides and people try to read as much as possible but the teacher is skipping very fast through the presentation and i think that is the closest thing I will ever be compared to Mangoos under the floorboards