#Extracted Negative

[cosmic-nia]

capcut you greedy ass mfs

are you KIDDING ME?? IVE BEEN USING THIS APP FOR YEARS AND THIS WAS THE EASIEST WAY FOR ME TO MAKE ANIMATICS, AND NOW YOU PULL THIS SHIT ON ME???

nah nah man im done im fucking done im finding another editing app cuz this is fucking bullshit

[forza-carlos-sempre]

Carlos is way too logical and smart for the regular « I wanna be driven by my emotions » population. I said what I said.

[traumacatholic]

I have conflicting feelings about catholicism and christian orthtodoxy as institutions but I’m very fond of your blog

Thank you very much, I appreciate your kind words and I hope you have a wonderful day!

[neechees]

hi justin, saw a post u made a while back about how u weren't interested in the movie for killers of the flower moon coming out (due to oscar bait and other reasons), but i was curious if you have read the book and had any thoughts on it?

I've never read the book, no. I might at some point out of historical interest, though, but I guess we'll see.

[keepxsolxinxsolxinvictus]

Best way to get a dog to come right back in is to give them a treat either at the door way or inside the house. It can be just a little part of a treat. Or even a piece of dog food with a little butter or peanut butter on it. Positive reinforcement for the behavior you want is always more effective than negative reinforcement for behavior you don't want.

Remember, lower sugar, or sugar free products may contain Xylitol, also called wood sugar, birch sugar, and birch bark extract, this is toxic for dogs.

so many people do not understand that 1) animals are not people, and 2) they aren't teaching their animals what they THINK they are teaching them.

dog group on the book of faces, someone is asking for advice on how to get their dog to come to them after the dog is done relieving itself outside. The dog doesn't like coming to them an they spend ten or twenty minutes or more catching the dog each time to bring it in. Which reminded me of one of many attempts to talk a person through trying to fix exactly this same behavior in *many* other dogs over the years...

Me: So, a quick question for you... does the dog not coming to you and you having to chase them down frustrate you?

Them: Of course!

Me: So what do you do when you finally either catch the dog or get them to come to you?

Them: I give the dog a correction!

Me: So. You get hands on your dog and then you immediately punish them for allowing you to get hands on them. And you wonder why your dog has developed the habit of not coming to you?

Them: No, that's not... I'm punishing them for not coming when I call!

Me: Which was.... fifteen minutes ago, or so, you said?

Them: Yes, when I first called them!

Me: Dogs brains literally cannot link an abstract thought like that. A thought and a consequence MUST happen within 2.4 seconds of one another, or the consequence becomes linked to the most recent behavior, thought, or activity. So, tell me... how is your dog supposed to understand that you punishing them is for the event fifteen minutes ago when you have made such a concerted, if unintentional, effort to teach them that them getting close enough for you to lay hands on them in the yard means an immediate punishment?

Them: But that's not what I *meant*!

Me: Doesn't matter what YOU meant... what THEY learned is that they come to you, and they get punished. Stop punishing your dog for the behavior that you want to see more of.

Stop anthropomorphizing your animals, folks. They don't think like us. Stop setting them - and yourself - up for failure.

[hymen-restoration-project]

Hey Bethany! Where have you been?

Well...

I put the blog on password protection for a few days while I took a break to evaluate what I wanted. Running this blog and interacting with my followers has been a lot of fun, but it's also been negatively affecting my mental health and making me more online than I'd like. Playing the character of "insane teenager who argues" means I have to argue with people all the time, and I don't really like doing that for long periods of time because it makes me insane.

So what did you find then?

I found that not posting is better for me than trying to run this blog further. I feel like I've extracted all the funny content out of this and any further posting is just running the joke further into the ground. There's only so much rehashing of the same bit I can do before I get bored, and Bethany's anger at receiving the same stupid questions became genuine after a while. I don't want to be enslaved to my phone all day calling everyone "fuckstick" anymore. I'm just not having any fun with it.

But Ivy! Bethany brings me SO much comfort and it's problematic to get rid of her!

Yeah, that's why I'm not deleting the blog, but if you feel this way I recommend logging off. My insane, written-to-be-irredeemable Argument Character being critical to your daily routine may be a sign you need help.

What are you doing now?

I'm retiring this blog. I'm leaving it up but I'm not gonna post on it anymore. If by some miracle I get to a place where running this won't kill me inside, I might come back, but for now I'm done with it. If you have a problem with this, fuck off into the sun, you and your spawn will be cursed hitherto until the end of time. Thanks to everyone who sent asks that were actually funny, and to the extended croakerverse for supporting me in this, I have not been doing well and yall being there and understanding helps a lot. Thanks to Strange for the video, I'm looking forward to hanging out in Toronto in July.

But for now, this is my Fecal Farewell

-Ivy

[apas-95]

Hello ! This humble suitor have a question : i keep seeing the take that "the usa empire is crumbling (so the US bourgeoisie is doing x and y)", but its never really shown how/proof it is crumbling. Is it really ? How is it in a worst state that like 10y ago ? Im not from usa but from afar the rich there are richer than ever, they dont have any less control or less countries, they still have as many markets...i want to believe but id like proof the empire is indeed crumbling :0 ty anyway !

The US is, indeed, losing influence on many countries. It's not flashy, as with the wave of revolutionary civil wars in the previous century (that part comes later!), but with the gradual weakening and undermining of the US's position as global hegemon.

The increasing wealth inequality in the USA, far from signifiying its prosperity, speaks more to the increased pressure the capitalist class is putting to squeeze out increasingly-scarce profit. During the US's most prosperous period, the immediate aftermath of the second world war, its immense wealth (extracted from the nations destroyed and damaged by the war, and its newly-acquired colonies) provided even its working class access to single-family housing, easy employment, and so on.

The US is falling behind technologically, diplomatically, etc. Even if it still holds an objectively superior position in many respects, its relative position, its movement, is clearly negative - and this aspect is the one which communists focus on. The US is still incredibly strong, incredibly powerful, and immensely wealthy - but it is less so each and every day, and the clear future we should be working and preparing for is one in which it is significantly weakened and desperate. This is a reality that is emergent in every decision and issue we see.

In essence, the two points are this - first, while the US may still hold an objectively strong position, it is no longer (as it was in the previous century) increasing in strength and gaining ground; nor is it (as it was during 'the end of history' and war on terror) maintaining its position; it is becoming weaker, and taking losses, and being forced to choose smaller losses over bigger ones. Second, the more important aspect to focus on is the direction, the movement, the change; not the current position.

[hazel2468]

...Anon. I think you need to actually talk to people who aren't radfem jerks about sex because... It sounds like you have gained your views on what sex is purely from an awful combo of radfems and the very worst possible interpretation of the television show Game of Thrones.

The fact that you think sex is the same thing as violence is deeply concerning. Talk to someone who isn't a bigoted radfem, please. I beg you. Go talk to some kinky queers! Talk to literally ANYONE who doesn't think sex is an evil act of violence that men do upon women for their own gain.

"Sex is about extracting pleasure" at this point this has nothing to do with being ace and everything to do with you thinking sex is an act of violence.

Also I'm sorry- a "moral reason"... Get your puritan ass out of here. Having sex isn't about morality and making morally pure relationship choices. It's about (at least to me) sharing in an intimate physical act and pleasing my partner.

People tell me I might be ace but I just think sex is so deeply entwined with power and violence and patriarchy and reproductive exploitation that I cannot see a moral reason for it to be a relationship norm. I get that it's some kind of instict that gives release... like violence. There might be sports about hitting each other with sticks but if you said hitting your partner with sticks daily is essential a good relationship people would call bullshit.

I can't imagine why anyone who is not a masochist or incapable of keeping a relationship together outside of sex would want 'passion' in the bedroom. Passion just means less control and less consideration of your comfort. Sex is about extracting pleasure, even if it's at someone else's expense, so how is it not violent?

--

LOL. Nonnie, not only do you sound asexual, but much more importantly, you sound like you hang out with too many radfems.

People like sex because sex is fun.

It's not always out of control, but many people do like feeling less in control. Humans are often thrill-seeking. Why else would we have roller coasters?

Wah wah, at someone else's expeeeeeeense = you have no concept of how giving pleasure works. A decent partner is not extracting something: the two of you are doing an activity together. Do you also ask why ballroom dancing is a thing? People like doing things together, including physical things. It's a way to express and build intimacy.

Yes, patriarchy demands very specific kinds of sex. Sex—all kinds of sex, not just the patriarchy-approved type—is a relationship default for most people, however, because they enjoy sex.

[circeyoru]

Loyalty of The Shadow _ Part 3 *END*

[Sung Jinwoo x Friend!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2  — Part 3 (here)

“Arise!”

[YOU FAILED TO EXTRACT THE SHADOW.]

[YOU STILL HAVE TWO CHANCES REMAINING.]

“Arise!!”

[YOU FAILED TO EXTRACT THE SHADOW.]

[YOU STILL HAVE ONE CHANCE REMAINING.]

“No… I can’t lose you…” Jinwoo hugged your cold body close, ignoring all the blood that dirtied his clothing or the scene he was making in front of his Shadows who watched with bated undead breath. “I shouldn’t have been with Hunter Cha… I shouldn’t have let you leave…”

It all happened within less than an hour. Jinwoo heard from Igris—with the help of Beru, who was the only Shadow to speak—that you left for some time alone and wanted to be completely alone. He thought it was fine as long as you were near him and he could go to you the moment he was done with Hae-In. But it took longer than expected and look what that led to.

You were the target of some people that saw Jinwoo through a negative lens. Since it was impossible to harm the S-Rank, it was simpler to put their anger and envy on people close to him. You happened to be unguarded at the worst time possible. When he got the news from his patrolling Shadows, it was already too late. Your body was cold and you had lost too much blood for his potions to do anything.

Jinwoo pleaded, he wished, he begged, he hoped. This was his last chance.

“Arise.”

From your body, misty tendrils formed and flickered around until it started to create a figure he was all too familiar with. There was you, standing before him with purple eyes and a body of shadow and darkness, dressed in what appeared to be robes like a mage—just like Min Byung-Gyu—but also some form of armour at the joints, everything outlined by neon purple like his Shadows. 

[SHADOWS HIGHER THAN RANK KNIGHT CAN BE NAMED.]

It was weird that you could be named, and even more bizarre that you were ranked as high as Igris was when he was first extracted. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was what to name you. It felt wrong to give you your original name because this was just a Shadow version of you, but then he can’t just give you another name. 

Just then, he had the answer. He stared at you in the eye and brushed his thumb across your cheek. “Blank. You’ll answer to that from now on.”

His heart ached when you bowed to him with a hand over your heart area. Your gaze fixated on him when you straightened up, and there was wonder and eagerness in your eyes that he couldn’t help but be reminded of your memories. 

Well, he might as well say it now. Still, with all his perceptive point investment, he somehow failed to notice his Shadows giving you a particular look. Particularly Beru and Igris, who appeared most fidgety, as if they had something to tell but couldn’t. 

“I have loved you for so long… Will always love you. I am so sorry for letting that happen to you. I should have protected you. I should have been with you.” Jinwoo leaned down where his forehead lightly touched yours and his eyes closed. “I love you.”

Hm!

??

Jinwoo’s eyes opened with confusion. The sound was way too close to be from the outside source. Not to mention… He raised his head and stared at the Shadow newly added to his army. He definitely felt a flinch from this Shadow. His eyes narrowed as he eyed the Shadow that stiffened for no reason. “Hey…”

Your eyes blinked and somehow avoided his gaze. Which was weird already since his Shadows never does something like this. They never act this human, nor were they affected by what he says on an emotional level. This was very suspicious. 

“Is there something you want to say to me?” Jinwoo’s eyes stayed glued to your facial expressions.

You shook your head and made a cross with your arms in front of your face, anything to shield you from Jinwoo’s intense gaze.

“It is you, isn’t it?” Jinwoo sighed your original name. “Stop acting.”

You tried maintaining your Shadow act as much as possible. It was too much and you ended up nodding in defeat with a droopy attitude. 

“How is this possible?” Jinwoo questioned aloud as his eyes widened, bewildered by the relaxed posture you suddenly took after your admission. You were acting the same as before, like nothing has changed and he didn’t just extract your shadow from your dead body. Wasn’t there an urge of loyalty placed on you that directed your attention to him? A force that compelled you to act inhuman?

You shrugged and pointed at your neck, no, throat to be more specific. Your mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. 

“Are you saying ‘you can’t speak’?” Jinwoo guessed your meaning.

You nodded enthusiastically and clapped your hands with a smile. Your lips moved, but once more, Jinwoo couldn’t hear anything from you. 

“My Queen is calling you smart and quick on the uptake, My Liege.” Beru spoke up suddenly, his wings fluttered with pride as he was now more important, being a bridge between his master and his master’s love. 

“You can understand?!”

“I can understand you now!?” 

Both Jinwoo and you exclaimed. The two of you looked back at each other and giggled. Soon, some changes were made. Instead of Beru watching over his mother and younger sister, Jinwoo had a legion of knights, mages, orcs, ice bears, and ants to guard them. Since Beru was the only one who could deliver your words to him, Beru had to be close by. 

Then he wondered how you could have your voice back. His only answer was to raise your rank. However, sending you into battles was something he swore he’d never do to you. He wanted to protect you, but not have you serve him. Now that you weren’t any ordinary Shadow but something akin to a reincarnation of yourself, he can’t do this to you. 

“My Liege.” Beru’s words brought him out of his thoughts. “My Queen wants to fight as well.”

“Nonsense. I won’t allow it.” Jinwoo spoke without missing a beat. “Never.”

Beru continued to relay your words, “My Queen wants to fight your battles with you, to be next to you. Rather than listening to your hardships.”

Jinwoo looked over to you, who was busy mingling with his Shadows, seemingly trying out a sword or a mage’s staff. Needless to say, the Shadows were ecstatic to finally communicate with you, even though it was your death and their master’s powers that allowed it. Still, they all made the best of things and kept you busy. 

“We will ensure The Queen is never in danger, My Liege.” Beru promised. 

It wasn’t like he and the other Shadows wanted their master’s beloved to fight alongside them. Yes, it’s an honour. But they shared their master’s worry when it came to your safety and health. When you told the Shadows this, they were against it until they heard your reasoning behind it. You wanted to be able to talk to Jinwoo again, to accept his confession by your own voice. For you, too, saw this as your second chance in life or the afterlife.

Jinwoo sighed, though a small smile was on his lips. “I could never say no when it comes to that, huh? Fine.”

As if you heard the resolve, your head turned over to Jinwoo while you waved with a beaming smile, not caring that you were swinging a sword in the air. 

“Let’s do some levelling up.”

Note: Welp, first one of the Christmas update is out~ And this is the end of this series. Thanks for following this series! (even though I never planned for it to last this long)

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: @lunavixia @o-qi-shisme @skylar896 @marydragneell @bri602 @posionapple24 @akemityan @shaq-27 @the-dumber-scaramouche @mydearestbeloved @icefox8155 @loudlylovingcreator-blog @kaeyasoccs @rozuburedo @shineinouzen15

[tacticaldiary]

It All Comes Crashing Down

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

She presses the metal radio against her lips and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.

"I love you, Simon.

A/N: The classic 'bomb my location' fic you've all been waiting for! This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks, so I'm glad I finally got it out- I'm thinking about a part 2 where she wakes up and it's some extra fluff, maybe?

Masterlist

She takes a shaky breath in as her hands grip her rifle tighter, but when she speaks her voice is as steady and firm as ever.

"Bomb my location."

The words are acrid on her tongue, but they feel right to her heart. Her mind is in disarray, trying to piece together any other solution that won't have her ending up under dead under pounds of rubble, but she knows deep down that there's no other way out of this.

An entire enemy organisation eliminated at the expense of one soldier.

It was a win-win for everyone but her.

And that was alright. She's made her peace with it, made it the moment she signed her name on those documents giving her life away to the tang of blood and the scent of gunsmoke.

"Level the building." She continues, wincing at another hail of fire that rains upon her. Heavy footsteps and orders barked in Russian move around her location. Steadily being surrounded, there was little hope for a smooth extraction or escape anyway. "Have Soap blow the charges, Captain. Then send in the airship and raze this hellhole to the ground."

"Like hell we're doing that." Gaz's voice comes through her comms, frustrated. "We're not leaving her, Price." They must have rendezvoused successfully, because Gaz doesn't speak through the comms, rather it sounds as if he's turning away his head to speak to the man directly.

It brings a small smile to her face despite the circumstances. Her boys would get out of this, at least.

Simon. Her mind flashes to her Simon and she thanks whoever's above that they had split up before everything went to shit.

It had been fine at first. She was setting the charges they needed to bring the building down while he fetched the intel from somewhere else, and really, she should have been suspicious when it all went smoothly.

She'd planted the last charge before the enemy started closing in.

Like rats, they seemed to emerge out of nowhere shooting her down and pinning her until she had no choice but to slip away and barricade herself in one of the nearby rooms. The entrance and exits were likely swarmed with people and here she sat, in the heart of it all.

Unreachable, untouchable.

She sort of tunes out the muted conversation on the other end, lets the ringing on her head take over. Loud angry cursing, yelling in distinctive Scottish, the harsh rasp of her Captain telling everyone to calm down...it all floats through her mind.

Everyone but Ghost.

She doesn't hear his voice...but he was alive, wasn't he? She'd seen him slip out of the building through the window in front of her, so she knows he must have gotten out. The thought makes her gut curl up, brings her back to the present.

"Negative, Sergeant." Price's voice cuts through her thoughts, much louder than the others. "We're mapping out a route to come get you-"

"Price, it'll be suicide." Perhaps it's the way her voice softens and quiets, the gentle way she talks so different from the harsh way she's spoken earlier. It's as if she's accepted it, is content to lay down and allow herself to be swallowed by the dirt she came from. "I'm one soldier. Don't make yourself visit more than one coffin."

"I'm going to-"

"Set off the charges."

There's a beat of silence, painstaking silence where nobody speaks. Even the gunfire outside the room she's barricaded in seems to fade out for a moment.

"Copy."

A death sentence coming from the man she considered family.

It cracks a smile out of her. She squeezes her eyes shut, lets her head fall against the blood spattered wall behind her.

"Make sure my replacement's just as much a pain in the ass to you, alright?" If the way her voice breaks at the end of her last sentence is noticed, it's not brought up. "Simon's gotta have someone to push around, yeah?"

"There's no replacing you."

There's arguing. Soap and Gaz are yelling, and it's startling because she's never heard either of them shout the way they are, at their Captain nonetheless.

It's comforting to know she was cared for, even if she's about to die.

A sudden bang on her door makes her jump. Muffled Russian filters through the old wood. Someone ramming at it with something, trying to break it down.

But it doesn't really matter, does it? She'll be going out on her own terms even if they find her now.

Ghost...Simon. Where was he? If there was one thing that'd settle her mind right now it'd be hearing that gravelly voice, even if it was merely yelling at her, telling her how stupid it was to suggest what she has.

A desperation claws at her chest, deep down. She wants Simon, wants to spend the night in his bed again, wants to hug him, feel his skin, wants to see those rare smiles of his one more time.

Just once.

Just one more time before she-

"Charges setting off in 5-"

How cruel was the world?

She hopes Simon knows that she didn't mean to leave him. That she wanted him to go on without her, to not fall into the void of 'what-if's.' It wasn't his fault.

Her eyes burn but she refuses to let out the helpless sob clawing its way up her throat. She wants...she wants so much. Wants to do so much more, wants to live, and breathe and smile and laugh and experience and live. Simon. She wants to tell him so much more.

If she could go back in time and fill their silences with all the words she wants him to know right now, she'd do it in a heartbeat.

It's an impulsive decision, how her hand shoots up to grab at her radio frantically. Switching it to the private line between just the two of them, she presses the metal against her lips and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.

"I love you, Simon."

The ground crumbles beneath her, the world turns to black.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slipping out of the small shed, he tucks the papers into his vest. For a multi-national organisation, they sure were stupid as hell when hiding their intel.

Scanning the grounds for any movement, Ghost moves out, keeping to the shadows until he reaches the edge of the field that morphed into the woods farther down.

"Intel secured, moving to rendezvous point now." He says into his comms. He frowns when he doesn't get an answer back, grabbing his radio and speaking again, casting a glance back into the foliage in the distance where he knows the others have staked their place to operate from.

Price, Gaz, and Soap were operating remotely, dealing with drones and distant detonation devices, whereas the other two had infiltrated the building separately.

Plant the charges and secure the intel. Simple tasks made difficult when they both realised that the intel wasn't in the building, but instead in the shed attached to the side of the complex instead. Splitting up had been the most logical thing to do, even when Ghost had refused at first.

"It'll be fine. Quick and easy, right?" She'd told him with a grin. "Get that intel before I'm out of the building and maybe I'll give you an extra treat when we get back." Ghost had rolled his eyes at her suggestive wink.

"Does anyone copy?" He says into the object. He's met with nothing but muffled crackling and garbled speech, tinny and indecipherable. Ghost scowls at the machine, ripping it off of his vest and turning it over. It crackles and pops with bursts of sound but nothing cohesive enough to interpret

"I-...ou...Simon"

"Fucking thing's busted." He mumbles to himself, shoving the item back into his vest, his hand brushing against the folder of intel he's successfully recovered from the shed attached to the main building.

He can spot one of the convoy vehicles near the edge of the woods, but he doesn't let his guard down even as he crosses the field towards it.

Ghost barely takes a step through the dead grass before the building behind him goes up in an explosion that makes even him unsteady with the force of it. Flames lick up the east side of the massive structure and Ghost takes a second to watch as it crumbles in on itself sending up clouds of dust and debris.

Good fucking riddance.

He's looking forward to getting the hell out of this place once he rendezvous with everyone else. This mission had stretched on for far longer than it should have, the elusive bastards slipping away through their fingers time and time again with dirty, underhanded tactics.

The foliage grows thicker as he steps into the woods, rifle at the ready. A click of a safety had him raising his weapon and spinning around immediately.

When he sees a very familiar mohawk, however, he lowers his weapon instantly. "Blue!" He says loudly, bringing up a hand to half Soap. "Just me, Johnny."

Soap follows suit and lowers his weapon, his shoulders visibly relaxing the tiniest bit. "Welcome back." He says, but something about his voice makes Ghost uneasy. "Price and...and the others are prepping exfil." He gestures towards the clearing.

"Everyone else made it back?" He asks as they push through the meager trees and into the open space where soldiers are rushing around tying up loose ends.

"Aye." Soap chokes out.

Ghost would question it, but he's too busy doing a sweep of the clearing, putting names to faces. Price and Gaz were there, going back and forth over something. It strikes him a little odd how furious Gaz looks, Price looking so resigned but he pushes it away in favour of catching a glimpse of the person he's more inclined to spot.

"We tried what we could, but she was pinned down." Soap breaks the silence, misinterpreting the reason behind his silent staring at Gaz and Price. "We didn't...Laswell's insisting immediate evac, but Gaz wants to at least find a body to bury." A bitter laugh that makes Ghost's stomach drop like a stone.

"What?"

Soap rakes a bloody hand through his hair, shakes his head, and continues on like he's in some sort of shock. "I don't want to. I think she'd rather us leave her buried there than dig out bits and pieces and bury her again." His voice cracks.

Bury...?

There's only one woman in their team.

There's only one person he hasn't accounted for in the clearing.

There's only one person he hasn't reached on his comms before they broke.

The world spins, his mind screams and falls silent, a crescendo of noise and denial. The ground shifts beneath his feet, rocking him into a state that makes him feel like he's walking on string.

"MacTavish." His words are so calm and even, it's eerie. "Is my girl still in the building?" He feels detached from himself, perhaps a way to distance himself from the pain of the implied.

Soap looks at him for a long moment, then croaks out one, broken word.

"Was."

And it all comes crashing down.

He's been through torture before. Had his skin marred, his fingernails torn off, been hung from his ribs but nothing, nothing has ever come close to the way his heart twists.

Nothing had ever made him panic in a way that has his throat closing up.

"Christ." Johnny breathes, and it's a sound that drags him back from the brink of something horrible. Soap's eyes are fixed on the empty spot on his vest that holds his radio on normal days, horrified. "You didn't bloody know." He states.

Wasting time answering is useless. Talking, speaking breathing is useless because not a moment later Ghost is sprinting towards the rubble.

The rubble that he had just watched fallen. The building he'd stood there and watched fall down, had felt pride and relief in seeing.

His gear digs into him, the air thickens with smoke and dust but he doesn't stop. Vaguely he hears people yelling after him, hears Price and Gaz and Soap and every other motherfucker who stood by and detonated the charges. Friend or foe it didn't matter to him right now. If someone dared to get in his way he'd mow them all down, grind them into nothing and keep going.

They blew the charges.

The airship would be here any minute to finish the job.

No, he'd get to her by then. Ghost slams down into the ground somewhere near where they split off. He'd find her by then, and he'd bring her back, bring her to medical and she'd be fine in a week or two.

There was no other fucking option.

The debris rakes off the fabric of his gloves, splits the skin on his fingertips as he hauls and pushes and pulls and digs through stone and metal and wood, leaving evidence of his efforts in the form of his own blood behind.

She had to be okay.

Not her. Not like his mother, not like his brother, not like his nephew.

Not her.

He digs, calls out her name until his voice is hoarse, pulls away piece after piece of rubble until his fingers are torn to shreds.

Just as he hears the sounds of incoming aircraft, he spots something that makes the knot in his chest slam against his ribcage in pure and utter terror.

It's been a while since Simon has felt fear this pure.

Hair that he's familiar with, strands that he's gripped and gently soothes his fingers through peek out from under the piece of metal he's just lifted.

Unable to breathe, his attempts at moving the earth increase tenfold. He picks off stone after stone, brick after brick until more of her body is uncovered. Still, unmoving, bleeding. Once he's gotten her top half free, he hesitates for one horrible moment because what if he looks down to see a still chest?

Steeling himself, he bites the bullet and curls an arm around her waist, pulling her out of the debris.

The relief that slams into him when he feels her shallow, breaths against his palm is almost enough to send him to his knees.

"I've got you, love." He mumbles, half to himself as he adjusts her in his arms. She's dead weight, pulse barely there but present.

Cuts and bruises, Ghost can name at least five lacerations and countless other places she's bleeding from, a broken arm, leg, and who knows what kind of internal bleeding.

Alive.

But still alive.

And that was enough because like hell Ghost was going to let the one good thing in his life slip through his fingers ever again. He'd drag whoever he needed to her aid, he'd go to hell and back just to make sure she got to open her eyes again.

With limps that ache and a heart that's heavy, he quickly moves them out of the rubble, just in time to see two aircraft circling their location. They hadn't dropped any explosives yet, which a far part of Simon's brain thinks might be Price's doing.

Uncaring of whoever was watching, because frankly everyone could fuck off right now and it would be preferable, Ghost presses his lips to her hair as he moves into the clearing with her.

"Medic!" He barks out. "Right fucking now!"

He ignores Gaz's strangled gasp, ignores the way the entire team approaches them and tries to help. Ghost is a little concerned that if he let the adrenaline that's pumping through his veins go, he might just collapse as well, and that was unacceptable at the moment.

A weak hand grasps at the front of his vest, his eyes snapping immediately to her at the movement.

"S...'mon?" She says, words so faint he barely hears them?

"I'm here." He confirms, pressing his face to her hair harder. "I've got you, darling." He whispers. "I've got you."

It soothes her, because she nods against him and lets herself relax. It's only then that Simon notices she's holding something in her good hand in a deathly tight grip.

Upon closer inspection, it's a radio.

"I-...ou...Simon"

Fucking hell. His grip on her tightens.

She'd been trying to contact him in what she thought were her last moments, and he'd never have known because his fucking radio was broken.

It doesn't matter, he tells himself, chants it over and over again in his mind. He's got her again, and like hell is he ever letting go now.

When the medics bring out a stretcher, Price has to talk him into letting her go down into him, practically ordering him to let the bloody medics do their jobs. He doesn't stray far, however, keeping a hand on her at all times. Sat next to where they were working on her in the helicopter back, never once do his eyes stray from her unconscious form.

She wakes up once or twice, whines, and fights against the medic's hands with a panic-induced haze. Every time Simon is there, holding her hand, muttering rough, soothing praise and assurances.

It calms her down immediately, the trust in those far away pain-addled eyes when they meet his is enough to make his heart twist.

Simon stays with her the entire time, and then takes residence in a seat next to her hospital bed on base, ready for when she wakes up.

Hell would freeze over before Simon would ever let them be apart again.

If that makes him selfish, then so be it.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(12/08/2023)

[thanatika]

The Bachelor's Pharmacy

I made a list of all of the metabolism-affecting consumables I could find in the Quarantine game files. @humancork was asking to see this, but I'll put it in the tag in case anyone else wants to see.

Stimulants (Increase Mania/Decrease Apathy):

Camphor Stimulant, a rubefacient. Causes irritation, just like everything in this damned place.

Coffee   Coffee is imported from overseas, so I must conserve my supply. Besides, the delivery of goods to the town is delayed, so the price of coffee can be outrageous. Addictive, with each use, the effect becomes weaker.

Adrenaline (Called "Stimpack" in game files) A hormone produced in the adrenal glands as a response to stress. When administered, it activates the body's fight or flight response. In my case, it increases running speed.

Strychnine A poison. Which is the same as medicine. Invigorating in small doses. Addictive. With each use, the effect becomes weaker.

Concentrated strychnine   The word repulsive doesn't even begin to describe its taste, especially in such a dosage, but it clears your mind like nothing else. You can't become addicted to it, even if you want to.

Tobacco It is believed that cigarettes have a calming effect, but in fact nicotine is a stimulant. Addictive. With each use, the effect becomes weaker.

Taurine Taurine is extracted from ox bile—perfectly fitting for a town built on bulls. It stimulates the nervous system and supports energy processes in the body.

Depressants (Increase Apathy/Decrease Mania):

Bromide Increases inhibition in the cerebral cortex. In other words, dulls the brain. Sometimes that's exactly what I need.

Etorphine A powerful analgesic. An overdose can lead to sudden feebleness or even death.

Morphine Relieves any pain, both physical and mental. In return, it asks only for your sharpness of thought. Many people take that deal. Addictive. With each use, the effect becomes weaker.

Refined morphine   Strong, robust. Each time it hits you like the first one. However, it's very rare. Use with caution to avoid overdose.

Valerian extract   Sedative. Sometimes even Bachelor Dankovsky drinks valerian extract, just like his grandmother used to.   [Alt: Sedative. Can't go wrong with valerian.]

Other:

 Dankovsky's special (Called "BachelorBrew" in game files, lol) A remedy I made myself. When administered, it allows the body to postpone any current pain and spread it out over time for approximately [Y] seconds. Unlike morphine, this drug doesn’t inhibit the psyche or cause apathy.

Makeshift tonic pill (Called "Craft_Pill_Apat" in game files) Partially mitigates the negative effects of apathy. Effectiveness unknown.

Makeshift stress relief pill (Called "Craft_Pill_Psycho" in game files) Partially mitigates the negative effects of stress. Effectiveness unknown.

Twyrine (Called "Tvirin" in game files, no description)

Swevery extract Serves as a natural tonic. It would be good to cultivate the local herbs...

White Whip toxin The White Whip an endemic species of the Gorhon Steppes. Contains a poison that, in its pure form, is lethal. There have been known cases of murders involving its use.

[achromatophoric]

Enid: *proofreading Wednesday’s essay*

Wednesday: *patiently waits*

Enid: *taps the page* Typo.

Wednesday: Be positive.

Enid: Huh? I guess uh—at least there’s only one typo?

Wednesday: Two.

Enid: *looks the page over again* Where? I only see this typo.

Wednesday: No. Be. Positive.

Enid: *growing frustration* Yes. I’m. Trying.

Wednesday: *arches an eyebrow*

Enid: *sighs* Look, how about you just show me the two typos?

Wednesday: *turns to her desk, opens a drawer, and extracts two circular tins*

End: 🤨

Enid: Typewriter ribbons?

Wednesday: Correct. Containing ink comprised primarily of O positive— *holds up one tin*

Enid: 😐

Wednesday: —and O negative. *holds up the other tin*

Enid: 🫢

Enid: *goes pale as she drops her gaze back to the page*

Enid: Th-This is B p-positive BLOOD?

Wednesday: Precisely.

Enid:

*THUD*

Wednesday: *catches the drifting sheet and gives it a quick scan*

Wednesday: Ah, I see. A single misspelling. I shall correct this immediately.

Wednesday: *turns to Enid* Thank you, mi lobita. Your help is, as always, greatly appreciated.

Enid: *sprawled halfway onto Wednesday’s bed, entirely unresponsive, and already drooling*

Wednesday:

Wednesday: *lifts Enid into her bed, lovingly tucks her in, and returns to typing in blood*

Cozy Enid: 😴💕

[on-a-lucky-tide]

cw: dubcon.

My brain is only offering sad Price thoughts right now, so I apologise. But omega Price who associates sex with negativity and repulsion because any alpha partner has expected it on demand, even when he's been injured, tired or sick. It's a relief when they let him get away with a hand job or head, so he can be swift and perfunctory, but that's not enough to ever keep them satisfied.

He'd dead fish it or try to go inside his head to focus on his todo list, but it was painful sometimes. This is how they show love, he'd tell himself as he bites into his pillow and squeezes his eyes shut. This is a need for them, this is their intimacy, he should try and see it from their perspective.

"Duty sex" is his norm, and now he sees it as a chore to tick off at best, or with all the dread of a tooth extraction conducted by Edward Scissorhands at worst. It inevitably led to him losing feelings for the person each time, and after one particular break up got messy, Price swore off ever dating again.

That's why the Nikolai situation is so frustrating for him. He knows he likes Nik in ways beyond "close friend", daydreams about falling asleep on his big chest and purring, but he doesn't want to lose Nik. Doesn't want those feelings to disappear when Nik demands that John fulfill his needs. After all, it's his duty as an omega and sex is how alphas show and feel loved...

[probablyasocialecologist]

Saito has made a career of teasing out an eco-theory from the late, unpublished writings of Karl Marx. He earned his doctorate at Humboldt University, in Berlin, and now teaches philosophy at the University of Tokyo. His first book was an English version of his dissertation, titled “Karl Marx’s Ecosocialism” (2017), which tracked Marx’s study of the physical world and communal agricultural practices. (Saito is fluent in Japanese, German, and English.) In a second academic book, “Marx in the Anthropocene” (2022), Saito drew on an expanded repertoire of Marx’s unpublished notebooks to argue for a theory of “degrowth communism.” He gained a following, not only in philosophical circles but among a Japanese public facing the contradictions of tsunamis, billionaires, and same-day shipping. “Slow Down” has sold more than half a million copies in Japan and launched Saito into a rare academic celebrity. He appears regularly on Japanese television and aspires to the public-intellectual status of Thomas Piketty, the French economist who had a surprise hit in his 2013 doorstop, “Capital in the Twenty-first Century.”

The key insight, or provocation, of “Slow Down” is to give the lie to we-can-have-it-all green capitalism. Saito highlights the Netherlands Fallacy, named for that country’s illusory attainment of both high living standards and low levels of pollution—a reality achieved by displacing externalities. It’s foolish to believe that “the Global North has solved its environmental problems simply through technological advancements and economic growth,” Saito writes. What the North actually did was off-load the “negative by-products of economic development—resource extraction, waste disposal, and the like” onto the Global South.

If we’re serious about surviving our planetary crisis, Saito argues, then we must abandon capitalism, with its insatiable appetites. We must reject the ever-upward logic of gross domestic product, or G.D.P. (a combination of government spending, imports and exports, investments, and personal consumption). We will not be saved by a “green” economy of electric cars or geo-engineered skies. Slowing down—to a carbon footprint on the level of Europe and the U.S. in the nineteen-seventies—would mean less work and less clutter, he writes. Our kids may not make it, otherwise.

[kipli]

Yesss all of this plus @elfkid4 prev tags. Even later on when he has a chance to talk to her face to face, he is still concerned about pleasing her and her opinion of him while she wants to trade fixing his condition THAT SHE CAN FIX WHENEVER for an item in return that everyone you talk to wants, an item that is not hers and I do not trust her to have, all while berating him for NOT blowing himself up like demanded. She is still using him and still manipulating him.

I’m not saying other interpretations are wrong but I feel like whether mystra actually groomed gale or not gales story with her was written with grooming in mind. He’s made to believe that it’s his affinity that set him aside from his peers, that’s why he attributes all his worth to it. He can never be god yet he feels he is ready for it, that it’s something he desires, like he is ‘mature for his age’ or that he should achieve said maturity to be equal to her. He considers mystras way of doing things to be the ideal goal, evidenced mostly by his sex scene, and she’s so deeply engraved into every aspect of his life that he can’t even imagine intimacy without somehow alluding to her because she is the golden standard for him. He doesn’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to be treated like a god. Like mystra.

Everything he is, he owes to mystra, and if people who’ve dated older people they idolised at a very young age, who had been introduced to the adult life through them and their ‘intellectual’ friends and connections and having it become their entire support system therefore becoming entirely too dependent on said partner and losing their entire personality outside of whats pleasing to them can’t relate to that, idk who can.

[abrahamlincoln-official]

Asexual, Neurodivergent, and Opiate Immune

This month I'm being selfish and satisfying my curiosity-- I know 3 people who are immune to opiates/have a negative reaction to them, and all 3 of them (myself being one) are asexual and neurodivergent. 2's a coincidence, and 3's a bigger coincidence but maybe a pattern. But I'm curious anyway

For those who are in the US and need help with your medical bills though, please see my usual Blaze: