#and i am not trained in this. so it’s fuckin HARD. but it’s fun and i am learn how to do it

[andhumanslovedstories]

I’m genuinely surprised how much I love nursing. Every shift, I get to meet and help so many people. I’m float pool so I go to the whole hospital, but I’ve also been floating for a while so everywhere is familiar. Sometimes it’s hard for me to walk through the hospital because I know so many people I pass, and we keep stopping to chat. I float to seventeen different units. That’s crazy! I know so much about the hospital! Every night I’m somewhere else, working with a different team and a different group of patients. The constant novelty and familiarity of floating is delicious.

And I love my patients! I know this all sounds so goody two shoes, but I love that I get to help so many people in so many ways. I only get them for one night, so I try to give them my best. I love tucking people in with warm blankets, I love explaining what I’m assessing to a patient with a new diagnosis, I love having heart to hearts with patients at three am when they can’t sleep, I love making people hurt less and stop throwing up. And you can be a real scamp about it. I love stealing snacks from other floors. I love when a patient is like “god I’d love some chocolate” and I get to be like “sir I know the location of every candy drawer in the hospital, I can get you some chocolate.” Or like figuring out like a cheat code for alleviating symptoms. When someone’s like “wow this heating pack rules” and then falls asleep instantly? It feels good and it’s fun. I have a lot of fun figuring out how to cheer up my patients in minor little stupid ways.

I never have to wonder if my job contributes value to the world. When I go home at the end of my shift, I can always think of something I did that makes me feel proud. That rules! It’s so fun to be proud of yourself! It’s so fun to know that what you do matters and that you are doing it well. And if I don’t feel proud, I have a drive home to think about why and I get a chance to do better next shift. And that’s good too. There are nights where I can feel the way I let someone down, and I have to sit with that, and I have to learn from it.

(And I don’t want to sound like I’m crushing it always super-nurse style, like I’m completely immune to ableism and the other -isms, or that I’m never lazy or callous or checked out. I’m new and I’m learning and I’m human and I’m tired and I’m not always living up to the person I hope to be. But I do get a lot of opportunities to make up for it and try again. That feels good.)

And I love teaching new nurses! I love having to constantly keep studying so I can be in a position to teach anyone anything. I love watching people get better at stuff. And I love that as I’ve gotten more confident as a nurse and a person who trains new nurses that I’ve started coaching more and more on the soft skills of nurses. Those are really hard! We should get as much practice with therapeutic communication as we do with Foley catheters!

Also where I work pays good, and I’ve got great job security, dude, I can buy so many stupid little trinkets. I was so nervous when I decided to go to nursing school that I was fucking up my life and other people’s plans for a job I wouldn’t even end up liking. I’d literally never worked something remotely close to healthcare when I decided to go to nursing school. I’d been in a hospital like once. I feel like this big life change shouldn’t have worked out nearly as well as it has, but hey it’s really fuckin cool it did

[devilmademewriteit]

thinking about jealous reader and jealous javi

Jealous Girl

gif via @javier-pena

pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader

warnings: roughy sex/smut (fem penetration) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; dirty talk; jealous!reader; jealous!javi; sort of dom!javi; allusions to reader having long-ish hair; pet names (baby, babygirl, hermosa, cariño); slut-shaming (reader uses the word ‘whore’); dubcon (no explicit consent, Javi is… forceful).

no use of y/n in this fic

thx 4 the drabble / short fic request!! once again this is FERAL !!! feel free to keep sending me lil drabble requests. they’re so fun to write while I work on my longer fics.

reminder that I am not using the taglist for these, but you can turn on notifs & join the list in my pinned post for my longer works !

-em <3

—

“You broke it off with me, baby, remember?”

What does it matter? What does it matter when you lock eyes with him getting head in his car, parked in some barely-hidden side-street, one block away from your dad’s salsamentaria?

What does it matter when, ten minutes later, he finds you, alone in the back room of the store, forcing back tears of frustration as your shaking hands busy themselves with fresh inventory?

You spin around, prepared to bark curses at him for trespassing into sacred, employee-only territory. He’s leaning against the door, beige suit-jacket a little roughed-up, hair slightly out of place.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying your freedom,” you reply coolly, mirroring his pose against the far wall.

He smiles. You’d known him long enough to recognize that condescending expression — the wolfish twitch of his mustache.

Toying with you for sport.

“And you’re not?” Javi asks, the casual raise of his eyebrows deceptive compared to the darkness overtaking his gaze. “Everybody’s seen you, y’know, leaving bars half-naked with guys twice your age.”

Always an opportunist, the agent pushes on, taking advantage of your stunned silence. “N’ you used to be so shy, babygirl.” A chuckle. “The fuck did I do to you, huh?”

You stammer, wanting to tear into him for his crudeness (though he was right — mixing the breakup with tequila hadn’t failed to strip you of your inhibitions), but the man denies you the chance, gliding forward in a slow, wide step.

Softly. “You wear my gifts for them? Let ‘em fuck you in all those lil’ lace sets I got for you?”

He’s close now, and you’re beginning to see red. This was part of the reason behind the break-up in the first place — neither of you knew how to manage overwhelming care without dousing it in cruelty.

Those long-awaited fighting words finally manage to breach the threshold of your lips. “Yeah, actually, I do,” you drawl, arousal levelled by a red-hot rage coiling tighter and tighter within you, “Ruined a couple pairs.”

“Bullshit.” His consonants slice through his vowels, accusatory and harsh. “Bet that pussy doesn’t even get wet after bein’ trained by me, does it?”

Try not to choke on your snarl, girl. “‘Least I don’t have to get head a block down from my ex’s shop — z’that the only way you can still get hard, Peña?” You muster up a daring smirk, shouldering his challenge head-on. “Hoping you’ll see me walk by so you can finish inside your whore?”

Bull’s eye.

“Don’t act like you give a single fuck where I’m gettin’ my dick wet, cariño.” Every inch of him bristles something fierce, but with skill and practice, he keeps his anger in check — maintains the upper hand — looming over you to consecrate the threat.

“Just pissed that I’m fuckin’ another bitch’s throat when we both know that’s what yours’s made for, right?”

The coil snaps.

Before you can stop it, your hand is in the air, gunning straight for the tan skin over his cheekbone.

In a blink, he’s strangling your wrist, holding back your palm from making punishing contact. The following pause is thick and heavy, quickly overflowing with Javi’s rage-soaked hunger. Dark and dangerous, the man hones in on your glare—

And speaks, voice low.

“Y’know, I let her swallow my load—”

“Let go of me.”

“—but you can take the next one.”

And then he flips you over, brushing off your indignant whine, flattening your back against his chest. Javi is strong (he always has been) and there’s no point in resisting (there never was). He’s unzipped himself, hiked your skirt up, wrenched your panties to the side and forced himself inside you in a matter of seconds.

Dear God, forgive me for getting my fix.

A big hand wraps around your throat while unforgiving arms form a prison around your body. He tilts your head back to face him, savouring your tightness, your suffering, and the strangled moan of pleasure dripping from your lips with his hips’ every rough throw.

“Always gonna belong to me, huh?”

His whisper settles over your skin, heightening that already-unbearable bliss. Your muddled mind and slackened mouth scramble to form words beyond full full full, yes yes yes.

“F-fuck you, Peña—” you spit through clenched teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. You fingertips grow sore, pressed to bruise along his forearms. “You’re worse than me—you-you know it.”

Javi responds with a tightened grasp and diligent, skilled digits falling to manhandle your clothed breasts. “Yeah, fuck you, too—” and it’s strained, etched with long-awaited relief, “—fuckin’ spoiled—jealous brat.”

An all-encompassing jolt to your system — he’s found that aching bundle. He carves words into your sensitive clit: you were never going to be anything but mine, mine, mine. The arch in your spine deepens; the back of your head falls helplessly against his collarbone. And despite yourself — despite his venom — you grin, catching the broken hallelujah underpinning every vowel, every touch of his desperate, repressed desire.

It’s a symphony you both sing, a thought hanging so heavy in the room it almost becomes a tangible part of your filthy entanglement.

“If I can’t have you, baby, no one else in this world can.”

—

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: This is so damn tacky, I swear to fucking God, dude. And I love it. And if anyone is curious, I'm nearing the end of the training for my new job and shit's insane. We're learning all kinds of new shit and it's so hard to retain. Jfc. But it's over on the 17th of May. Then I pick up my laptop, and my phone and head off to my new desk where I'll decorate it like the fucking fun little nerd I am!

C/W ::: Hanma is a dick and not the fun-loving kind, either.

MDNI under the cut.

🔘🔘🔘 Hanma Head HC's 🔘🔘🔘

🔘 Hanma has a bad habit of only calling on you when he's bored.

🔘 He knows you'll always answer the phone, the door ... however he chooses to reach out to you at the time.

🔘 He's so sweet to you at first. Telling you "You're so prihhh-ty" and how much he enjoys spending time with you.

🔘 He lies; tells you about how busy he is with stuff. You know it's bullshit, but you love him so much that you let it go.

🔘 And even if you hadn't let it go right away, as soon as he touches you, you're a goner.

🔘 "Baby, been missin' this body s'much. But fuck, things are so crazy righ' now. Can't be with you like I want."

🔘 Hanma will guide you over to your desk and hoist you up by your thighs.

🔘 "You puttin' on some weight? Heh, I think it's all in your ass. Lemme have a bite. 'Mere."

🔘 It hurts your feelings when he says things like that. But he wants a bite ... so he likes it. Right?

🔘 After he gets you up on the desk, he spreads your bare legs.

🔘 Hanma has taught you well to have your pants off by the time he gets there, leaving you only in panties (thongs ... or he spanks you relentlessly until you convince him you're sorry for not being sexy enough for him).

🔘 The man simply has no time to waste (lies) - let alone, waste on you (bigger lies).

🔘 You wanted to believe you were kind of important.

🔘 But with how few and increasingly far between his visits, phone calls, whatevers have been lately, you're not sure now where you rank in his life.

🔘 And the more you think about it right now, with his face between your chubby, warm thighs and his lips around your puffy clit, you want to cry.

🔘 But who cries when they're getting head? GOOD head, at that.

🔘 He knows just how to hook you and keep you hangin' on.

🔘 He kisses that crease of soft skin between your thighs and your cunt, whispering sweet nothings to it. You wonder if he even remembers you're there.

🔘 "G'na make ya cum so hard, yeah, slutty slutty slit uh'mine. Fuckin' love you so much. Miss you all the time. Now open up f'me. Gonna give ya all I got, princess.

🔘 He grunts slightly when he lifts you from the desk and carries you around to the bed, laying you down unceremoniously and not even bothering to push his pants down below his thighs.

🔘 Hanma winked at you as he stroked his cock a few more times for good measure.

🔘 "Baby ... ya ready? Daddy's home. Gonna give ya some milk then run out and buy s'more."

@viburnt @trevengersprincess @katkusuo @darkstarlight82 @kazutora-kurokawa @arlerts-angel @southside-otaku @bakubunny (I don't know if I'm just stupid or what, but I can't find your other acct?)

[sugar-coat-it]

HEY!! Your smut is insane!! could i request something like matty and reader mutual masturbation telling eachother what to do?? 😋🤘🏻

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP YOU GOT IT BABE 

I thought it would be fun if they’re low-key bickering throughout it while still telling each other what to do, but it ends with them just being desperate to watch the other cum, totally forgetting the silly argument 

Uhhh yeah this started as a blurb and got pretty long, so, hope you like it anon!

—--------------------------------------------

“Mm- no, you don’t get to touch me, not after what you pulled,” you murmur, pushing Matty back onto the pillows and off of your frame. 

Every fiber of you is screaming to just let your pride go and just allow him to keep running his hands over your body, pressing searing kisses to your neck and jawline. You’re well aware that the fires he sets under your skin can only be fully put out by him, but you’re also stubborn… at least for now. Matty just tuts, rolling his eyes at you and gazing off to the side, clearly fuming at the idea of his actions having consequences. Before you’d gotten back home, you’d been out at a pub where he’d been a complete and total prick to a guy at the bar whom he was convinced was trying to sleep with you. Death stares, possessive fingers digging into your waist, the whole ordeal. The whole car ride home had been tense, Matty’s jaw clenched with bitterness as he kept one commanding hand on your leg, his cold rings pressing into the plush skin of your thigh as he drove. His eyes were intensely trained on the road the whole time, deafening silence between you. Although he was being ridiculous, it sure did get you hot and bothered to see him so passionately envious. He obviously felt the same impulse to some degree, because the moment the door shut behind you, he was crushing his lips to yours, licking into your mouth ravenously as he pulled you flush against his body. The two of you had stumbled into the bedroom, messily shedding jackets to the floor as your eager hands roamed. 

“Seriously? Are you still on about the wanker from the pub?” he scoffs, unfastening his tie with deft fingers, working quickly until it’s hanging loose around his neck. 

“Yeah, I am! You were so rude to him when he was just being nice!” you exclaim, reaching for the zipper on your dress, trying to relieve some of the heat simmering beneath the fabric. 

“That’s a ridiculous thing to say. He told you you were… fucking, what did he say? “mothering, cunt slaying”?” 

“He was gay, you asshole!” you snort, your dress now a heap on the floor along with Matty’s button-down shirt.

“How was I supposed to know that? I don’t even have a clue as to what that fuckin’ means!” “Matthew, you’re so out of touch.”

His lip twitches with annoyance, but that doesn’t stop him from staring right at your tits, his hand tensing with the urge to reach out and greedily touch and grab what he believes is rightfully his. Just as hypocritical, you feel heat surge deep inside you as you glance down at the thick protrusion in his dark slacks, drinking in the sight of him leaning back against the pillows with his inked chest bared to you for your viewing pleasure. You’re both at an impasse, too proud to “lose” by reaching out for the other, which leaves only one option to relieve yourselves of your frustrations. 

“Well if I apparently can’t touch you, I’m not gonna sit here like an idiot with a hard-on,” he murmurs, cocking his head at you with a hint of sass. 

“What, are you gonna go have a wank in the bathroom, then?” you gape with disbelief, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Nope. Why should I? It’s my bed too,” he replies simply, reaching for his belt and undoing it, watching as you start practically salivating at the way his hands flex around the buckle.

The belt lands on the floor with a clank, but instead of taking off his trousers, he slides his hand down his chest slowly, sensually, taking his time as if you’re not even there. He trails his fingers down his stomach, his pace is entirely unhurried as he reaches for the crotch of his pants. Matty feels over his erection with the palm of his hand first, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tilts his head back against the pillow, gritting his teeth at the way he’s teasing himself. You can’t help the way you softly gasp when he suddenly grabs himself through the fabric, keeping a firm hold on his cock with a grunt, the veins in his hand bulging salaciously. Matty loosens his grip now, tracing the outline of his erection with two fingers, lingering on the tip just enough to make his hips jump forward with need. He has one hand casually behind his head while the other skillfully undoes the button and zipper of his pants, and only now does he crack one eye open just enough to watch the way you’re squirming, your face burning at the shameless display he’s putting on for you. You straighten up when you feel him looking at you, your face screwing up into a frustrated pout, not wanting him to know how whipped he’s got you. He just chuckles lowly, mirth crinkling at the corners of his eyes while he’s lifting his hips to pull his pants down, knowing all too well what he’s doing to you from the way your thighs clench.

Indignance strikes in you like lightning as you realize that he shouldn’t be the only one enjoying himself. He’s the one who was being an ass tonight after all; you should be making him remember the power you undeniably hold over him too. You begin to mirror him, letting out an exaggerated sigh as you slide your hands up your sides and grope your breasts through the cups of your bra, staring back at him with lustfully lidded eyes. He couldn’t be more pleased, a sleazy smirk tugging at his lips as he stares right back, testing your restraint further and further as the room gets hotter.

“Mhm, that’s it, keep touching your tits love, you’re great wank material,” Matty winks, his hand now snaking under the elastic band of his briefs as he starts stroking himself with a sigh.

You huff, sending him an annoyed look at him treating you like his personal porno, but you’re even more frustrated that his hand is hidden beneath the cover of his underwear. You can only see the outline of his cock as beads of precum soak into the dark fabric, his wrist languidly moving up and down his shaft as his hips shift back and forth slightly.

“What is it? You wanna see?” he coos before letting out a deep moan just to really put the nail in the coffin.

You’d like to call him arrogant, a prick maybe, especially because of the boastful, pride-ridden look on his face as he lazily jerks himself off. But instead what comes out is:

“Yeah…” 

It’s against your better judgment, but you can’t say you really regret a thing when he pushes the elastic past his weeping erection, letting you get a full view of the way he’s slowly circling his thumb around the tip of his cock as he just smiles that stupid, charming smile. It’s enough motivation to eradicate your inhibitions as you spread your legs out atop the sheets, hooking your finger into your ruined panties and sliding them to the side. Matty is starting to lose his cool now, his movements getting a little quicker, his eyes widening just a bit as you keep one hand cupping your breast while the other ventures between your thighs. He lets out a choked groan at the sight of you taking your fingers and spreading yourself open for him to watch, collecting the honey that’s gathered at your sopping hole and dragging it up to your clit. You moan breathily, biting your lip as you begin circling two fingers around the swollen bundle of nerves, the slight sense of relief making your head swim.

“You can go faster than that, can’t you?” you tempt, having had enough of his little lax pleasure session. 

Matty’s lips press into a thin line as you attempt to order him around, muttering something under his breath. Yet, he still obliges, his hand moving a little swifter as he drags his fist up all the way from the base to the head, twisting his wrist the way you usually do it. A prideful smile twitches at the corners of your mouth before you can stop it while you’re drawing tight circles around your clit the way Matty knows you like it. However, nothing could ever compare to the way his calloused fingers rub at you until you’re seeing stars, not even your own hand. 

“Want you to take your bra off,” Matty commands in return, his breathing getting heavier as his chest heaves, he’s trying not to buck up into his hand and appear too eager. 

You move as quickly as possible, not wanting to be left aching for too long as you move to unclasp your bra, needing both hands. The moment your bra is sliding down your shoulders, your hand slithers back between your legs, rubbing little figure eights on your clit to make your toes curl and your head tilt back, your hair spilling down your shoulders.

“You could have been the one touching my tits if you hadn’t been so mean,” you pout spitefully, grabbing a handful of one of your breasts with your free hand.

“Do you even know how to make yourself cum anymore? I’ve spoiled you too much haven’t I?” Matty snaps back, completely ignoring your little comment despite how badly he’d love to lick and suck at your perfect breasts right now.

He’s fisting his cock a little harder as he watches you pleasure yourself, knowing damn well he would be doing a better job, which only makes him further ticked off. You gasp as you pinch your nipple between two fingers the way he does, sending a harsh pang of need straight to your core. Meanwhile, Matty makes a frustrated grunting noise as he tries to recreate the way your lovely hands slicked with his precum would grasp and pump him time and time again. The both of you are ironically unable to get off unless you mimic the way the other’s hands work.

“Have you ever heard that jealousy is a disease?” you mention sarcastically between little gasps for breath, your cunt fluttering around nothing. 

“That’s nice, princess. Two fingers inside, now.” 

Wordlessly, you follow his instructions, whimpering as you coat your fingers with your arousal before sinking them inside your needy hole. Matty’s eyes are trained on the space between your thighs, his jaw going slack as he watches your digits disappear inside you and then reappear even more drenched. His strokes are getting jerkier, he’s cursing under his breath as he tries to resist delving between your legs and taking care of you himself. His chocolatey curls bounce with his movements, a thin sheen of sweat glistening across his chest and his forehead. 

“Don’t like being punished for wanting to keep what’s mine, y’know. Stick your tongue out,” he grunts, giving himself a particularly hard squeeze. 

“So possessive,” you purr, obliging his little fantasy because you know exactly what he wants to see. 

A cheeky glint in your eyes, you let your tongue slip past your lips as you pant, relishing in the way Matty’s cock twitches sharply in his fist as he stares at you, unable to help the way he whines when a drop of saliva drips from your pliant tongue onto your tits. You know how absolutely depraved you must look, fingering yourself while moaning with your tongue hanging out of your mouth. The things you do for love (and good sex). 

“Shit, that’s a lovely view, ain’t it? S’better when you’re not talking too. C’mon, don’t slow down,” he prattles, his voice smooth and dark like tinted glass.

“Only if you fuck your fist for me properly,” you interject, feeling just as worthy of making sensual demands. 

Matty scoffs like he’s above doing something so vulgar, but the moment he sees that you’re in fact slowing your movements down, he’s snapping his hips up into his fist, groaning far too loudly as he clenches his hand around his shaft. Sufficiently pleased, you go back to sticking your tongue out like his obedient little sweetheart while you continue to pump your fingers in and out of yourself. Matty’s eyes roll back with fluttering lashes as he thrusts upwards over and over, his abs tensing with the effort of keeping up his relentless pace. You feel yourself shudder the moment the whites of his eyes disappear and he’s gazing at you again, the eye contact makes warmth rush over your skin in a familiar, pleasant wave. God, the obscene symphony of sounds from your separate pleasure sessions would be enough to make anyone blush. You’re both starting to forget why you’re playing this little game in the first place, heads hazy with raw desire.

“Getting close…” you murmur, the challenging tone of your voice fading into a softer sort of desire, like you can’t help but appreciate the absolute treat of your gorgeous boyfriend before you. 

Matty’s gaze softens in return, his eyebrows sloping with a pining sort of look instead of being furrowed with intensity, his curls are sticking to his forehead, damp with his sweat. His breaths are coming in short gasps, moans freely spilling from his lips as his eyes wildly flick from your longing expression to your breasts, to your diligent fingers. Every little sound you make only encourages him to go harder, to fuck faster, the bed creaking louder as the headboard repeatedly meets the wall behind it. 

“Ohh, I know, I know, me too. Shit, you’re so good, love. So perfect for me with that pretty pink cunt of yours spread open, fuck,” he rambles, his words tapering off into a whimper. 

His filthy words have your cheeks burning, heat prickling at them as you sigh out, your hips rocking into your own hand as you feel the tension gathering deep inside. It feels like it’s all getting ready to snap at any moment, and Matty can see it plastered all over your face. He knows you well enough to know the way your eyes widen when you’re going to climax, he’d made it his personal mission to learn all your tells. The whole pub incident might as well have never happened with how intent you both are to watch the other fall to pieces, eagerly relying on the other’s pleasure to get off.

“Please, please, Matty, wanna cum with you,” you whisper, your voice quivering much like your legs. 

“Shit, yeah? Go ahead love, gonna watch you make a mess, okay? I’m right here,” he breathes, restraining himself to only look into your eyes as you start to lose yourself. 

You’re falling weightlessly beyond the edges of pleasure, but you force yourself to stay upright enough to gaze back at Matty while your orgasm begins to crash over you in waves, your walls clenching and fluttering around your fingers while your lips part with a silent cry. Matty’s not far behind you, especially not with the scene before him of his perfect girl falling apart just for him. Hot spurts of cum cascade over his fist and his stomach, adorning his tattooed skin with pearly ropes as he moans garbled praises of your name.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck,” he groans, his hips pistoning up into his closed fist with sloppy, blissed-out thrusts, not once breaking the shiver-inducing eye contact. 

Your chest is still heaving, you’ve barely even started coming down from your high before you’re lunging for Matty, and he’s reaching out just as fast, his hands finding your waist like they’ve made their home there. You let your full body weight lean into him as you kiss him longingly like it’s been years since you’ve felt their touch. Neither of you seems to mind the way his cum is spreading all over your stomach and your tits between your flushed bodies, you’re too busy clutching at each other and locking lips like overzealous teen lovers. 

“Didn’t feel as good as when you do it, Matty,” you croon against his mouth, your hands adoringly sliding into his hair. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he pants, his thumbs tenderly rubbing little circles against your hip bones, “please, can I give you proper treatment now? Wanna make up for it, I was bein’ an arse, m’sorry.”

You just nod, looking up at him like he’d hung each individual star in your own personal sky as his warm breath fans over your lips. The glint in Matty’s eyes at your agreement tells you that he’s going to be spending quite some time worshipping you tonight, lovingly taking you apart with his hands until you’ve had enough. All is well in the world.

[antis0cial23]

The Pride of the Navy

Chapter 3: Cap'n Mav

Summary: Training starts and he is the teacher?

Warnings: Swearing

  Quin's alarm blared in her ears, the lovely time of '5:30 am' showing on her phone. Well, if there was any day for hell to break loose, it would be today. Stress had already found a home in her bones; the unknown mission soon to be found out. Based on everyone present at the bar the previous night, this was some serious shit they were getting into, and Quin didn't know if she wanted a part of it. But here she was, getting dressed in her service khakis. Her short waves pass regulation standards to stay down, unlike Phoenix's long hair forced into a regulation bun.

Buttoning up her stiff shirt, she was dressed to head to base, although she was unsure of her body wanted to follow. Unsure of what was to come, Quin didn't just have to think of herself for this no doubt deadly mission that was to come. Someone needed to be there for when Emmelyn returned home after long deployments, take care of her when she had those hard days every Navy man and woman had. And currently, Quin was the only person who could fill that position, or so she thought. Grabbing her keys and jacket, Quin exited her home, nerves bursting with a buzz that filled her soul. Her cherry red baby rumbled to life, the hum calming in nature. Pulling out of her driveway, Quin could only think of her sister and the memories they shared.

Quin drove down the Hollywood streets, her sister in the passenger seat. Music blared on her speakers, windows down and cruising. Emmelyn loudly sang the lyrics of 'Cherry Cola' by Kuwada as they drove.

"SHE'S MY CHERRY COLA, SHE GON KEEP ME SOBER" Em sang, enjoying the music. The only thing Quin could do was smile. Emmelyn had just turned eighteen, Quinlan twenty-eight. Maybe they weren't fully related, only half-siblings by their mother, but Quin would do absolutely anything for her. Like driving almost a full day from Corpus Christi, Texas to Los Angeles, California just so Emmelyn could go to the Cali beaches she grew up on before she made her way to college.

Quin felt terrible making her move her junior year of high school, but Emmelyn understood, and quite honestly was excited for the change. Em may or may not have had a thing for Texas country boys. Quinlan flew with the Blue Spades, enjoying the group, even though it was comprised of mostly men. Quin got her allotted time off from her supervisor, since after all, your siblings only graduate once. So here they were, rolling through California with the windows down, screaming the lyrics of 'Cherry Cola'.

"Quinlan you looser, sing the damn music instead of smiling like a fuckin weirdo." Sometimes Quin wondered where Emmelyn's personality came from, but who was she to care, she was told to sing, so that's what she did.

"Pull me to the surface, no way I deserve this. We like that you did came, I'm so glad that you came!" Quin sang softer than her sister's belting but sang nonetheless.

Quin's mind resurfaced from the depths of her memories once she reached the base and by no means was she pleased to see the North Island venue. The place was filled with memories, mainly of her fellow Top Gun graduates getting their asses kicked, but it was a fun time despite the frustration. The sense that this wouldn't be the same was disappointing, but Quin only hoped to survive what was to come. Walking through the base she saw Phoenix walking toward the female locker room, which was a, painfully, new addition to the campus.

"Cas! We're meeting in hangar 7. Admiral Simpson told me to inform the group since I was the first one here." Phoenix didn't look too enthused, but again, when did she ever. Quin just nodded in response, stepping in tune with her fellow pilot. They made their way to the hangar, which was unfortunately far from where the two were. Maybe it would've been easier to drive over, but Quin didn't mind the walk. Walking always helped relieve some of her nerves, and today? She needed that more than a caffeine addict needed coffee.

Arriving at the hangar, she and Phoenix had generally walked in silence except for the agreed expressions of curiosity. Hangman sat at a desk; Coyote next to him. Behind was Omaha and Fritz. From the time it took for Phoenix and Quin to walk, mostly everyone was already there. Bob sat across the room from Hangman, saving the seat next to him for Phoenix. Behind him was Payback and Fanboy. Harvard and Yale resided in front of Hangman, Rooster nowhere in sight. Quin took an empty seat in front of Phoenix, leaving the seat next to her the inevitable resting place for none other than the angry chicken named Rooster. ‘Oh, joy.’ Was the only expression that graced her mind at the predicament. Rooster joined the crowd, almost late and looking a little hungover. All Quin did was continue her quiet conversation with Phoenix and her wizzo.

"Attention on deck!" With speed, everyone stood. Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Bates walked into the hangar, Hondo following suit.

"Morning. Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated." Admiral Bates’ voice was firm, just like any other Navy admiral. He glanced around the room, taking in the pilots before him. "You're all Top Gun graduates. The elite. The best of the best. That was yesterday." Quin already knew this was gonna be a pain in the ass mission, aside from the glaringly obvious sense of danger that unconsciously haunted every word, hanging in the air like a thick sickness.

"The enemy's new 5th generation fighter has leveled the playing field. Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technological advantage." At that moment, she was sure every single aviator in the room had the same thought. Oh. Shit.

"Success... now more than ever, comes down to the man- or woman, in the box. Half of you will make the cut. One of you will be named mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve." Nothing wrong including a friendly competition, right? Quin could only sigh, knowing none of the competition was going to be taken lightly. Somehow, the Admiral was still talking.

"Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master. His exploits are legendary. He is considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you may very well be the difference between life and death." Admiral Bates paused, what a way to hype a man up.

"I give you Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign-Maverick." Quin's whole body paused as her mind slowly, probably too slowly, caught up. ‘Oh, holy mother of God, help us all.’ She glanced back, seeing him make his way up the center aisle of desks. Rooster had turned to face away from the aisle, looking towards the open garage-like doors of the hangar, Quinlan seeing his shift from the corner of her eye. Something was going to break. Either a person, mentally or physically still being decided, a plane, or an inanimate object that took the frustration from the grudge-holding chicken. Maverick cleared his throat, his unsure body language speaking volumes.

"Morning..." This was going to be painful. "The F-18 NATOPS" He semi-shakily held up the manuals, "It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I'm assuming you know the book, inside and out." Maverick looked expectantly at the fliers in front of him. Some shouted yeses, some affirmative noises. "So does your enemy." And with that, the hollow thud of the manuals going into the trashcan to his left echoed throughout the hangar.

"Here we fuckin’ go…" Quin whispered, mainly to herself, but she saw the slight nod Rooster gave. Maybe things weren't as bad as she thought.

"But what the enemy doesn't know... is your limits. I intend to find them. Test them. Push beyond." As much insecurity as he held in the beginning, he wasn't doing too bad now. But having Maverick training Top Gun graduates, only so many rules and regulations could be followed without complete disregard.

"Today we will start with what you only think you know. Time to show me what you're made of." Maverick's small grin was easily seen by Quin, which only made her worried about what he had in store. And so, they were off. Phoenix and Quinlan off to the female locker room, the rest of the cocky Aviators to the men's.

"There ain't no way in hell this is going to go well." Phoenix spoke once they were behind the closed doors of the locker room. Switching from her service khakis to her flight suit, Quin one hundred percent agreed, nodding at Phoenix’s statement.

"Especially with..." Quin just shook her head and exhaled, she stopped herself, not wanting to share Rooster’s business.

"How are things in that... department?" Phoenix asked lightly, not really wanting to upset her friend, assuming Quinlan meant Rooster.

"Being honest? No fucking clue." And that was the end of that conversation. Quinlan patted her pocket, making sure they were still there.

"Still?" Phoenix's voice sounded sad, maybe a hint of pity, but Quin expected it. She nodded, pulling out the chain that held one of Rooster's dog tags and one of hers. She never flew without it, even now. God knows what Rooster did with his, even more so since it was his idea. Placing them back in her pocket, she and Phoenix headed back to the hangar.

Once back at the hangar, the 'teams' were decided. Team one was Payback and Fanboy, wingman: Rooster. Team two Harvard and Yale, wingman: Casper. Quin, not overly enthused about being wingman to the pair, just nodded at the grouping. Team three was Phoenix and Bob, wingman: Hangman. Quin and Phoenix locked eyes, almost making Quin laugh at the dead look in her fellow teammate’s eyes. Team four was the remaining three aviators, Omaha and Fritz, wingman: Coyote. With the teams decided, Team One went to their aircrafts, while the rest gathered around the radio in the green room.

"Good morning, aviators. This is your captain speaking. Welcome to basic fighter maneuvers. As briefed, today's exercise is dogfighting. Guns only. No missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of five-thousand feet. Working as a team, you have to shoot me down. Or else..." Maverick's voice crackled over the radio, his cocky pilot attitude shining through like no other, forcing Quin into an involuntary eye roll. Gotta love pilots...

"Or else what, Sir?" Quin could almost feel the idiocy coming through Payback's voice.

"Or else I shoot back. If I shoot either one of you down, you both lose." Maverick's smile was evident in his words, these boys were in for it now.

"This guy needs an ego check." Hangman spoke, almost as if he was the one going to give it to him.

"No more than you, pretty boy." Quinlan was quiet, only the people she wanted to hear, hearing her statement.

"Oh, so you think I'm handsome?" His smile was accompanied by annoyingly white teeth.

"Not so fast, Ken Doll." A very unamused expression fell onto Quin's face. This man was gonna drain the life out of her. And that's when Quin heard the fucking terrificidea Payback put on the table. Whoever gets shot down first does two hundred push-ups. Quin wanted nothing else but to punch him, her arms already aching at the thought.

"That bastard..." She and Phoenix spoke simultaneously, earning an odd look from Hangman. Quin could only snort at Maverick's antics, hearing the whisper of him not wanting to get fired on the first day, and the way he flew between the two jets, ending inverted over Rooster. Quin already knew that was gonna piss the Rooster off.

"Rooster just saved your life boys, but it's gonna cost him..." Maverick was too cocky for his own good sometimes.

"Not this time, old man." The second Quin heard his rough voice, she knew something was about to go down, and by the looks of it, so did Phoenix. The two shared a look of anticipatory worry. When the beeping from their planes started, warning of low altitude, Quin could only breathe. ‘In. Out.’ She told herself. Maybe it was a plane and a person that was going to break today.

"Five hundred feet, Rooster. Pull up." Mav's voice was worried but still determined not to lose, their double cobra stunt reaching towards the ground faster and faster.

"Pull up you idiot." Quin whispered to herself, not wanting this to be the day someone had to scrape Rooster from the California mountains. She didn't want that any day, to be fair. Phoenix looked at Quin with a face like pity, but her own worry cast that ever despised look aside.

"Shit!" Rooster’s voice came through the radio, breaking the silence. She assumed he pulled up, or more so she hoped. A few moments later, Maverick called the kill, telling the team to head back to base.

"Team two, get ready." Mav knew they were all listening, and so Quin hurriedly walked to her plane. Harvard and Yale followed her to their aircraft as well, leaving Rooster to do his push-ups in peace.

"Yo, Casper." One of them called from behind. She turned, waiting for whoever spoke to continue. "Yale is the pilot, I'm the wizzo. Let's hope we fly well together. And maybe you use more words." Harvard tried joking, which Quin secretly appreciated, nodding at Harvard.

"Hope so, frat boys." Quin said to them as she reached her single-seat F-18. What were the odds the two college callsigns ended up flying together? Climbing the latter and situating herself in the seat, Quin could only hope Maverick was nicer to her than the previous wingman. She gripped the tags in her pocket while doing all the necessary checks in the cockpit. Her jet rumbled to life; the buzzing of the engines felt in her whole body. Her wheels left the runway, Yale and Harvard right behind.

"Good day, fliers. You know the objective, and the cost. Let’s get to it." Maverick was nowhere in sight, but they all knew he was close. Whether that was below them, or off somewhere hidden by the mountains, they didn't know.

"Got eyes, Uni?" A good group name for the college boys... Probably.

"Uni? Really? Are you British?" Yale chuckled at the terrible British accent Harvard put on.

"Come on, boys. Focus." They could hear how she was trying to be serious as Quin spoke. Maybe they would make a good team.

"The lady's right." Mav's voice broke through their headphones, with a crispness that could only mean he was uncomfortably close.

"When the fuck- He's right behind us, Yale!" Harvard sounded panicked at the very least.

"Breaking left, Cas!" And so, Cas did too, both planes veering left, Maverick following easily.

"Boys, when I tell you to dive, do it." Her voice was even, while her plane ever so slightly slowed. Quinlan gave the signal, the boys diving, Mav taking the bait, surprisingly. Quin slammed the brakes, then dove after the ego-inflated captain. A few seconds passed, Yale having to even out, because the hard deck was made to be listened to, the previous run having totally agreed, therefore Maverick too. Quin was still above Mav, ready to shoot.

"Cas, the fuck are you!" Yale spoke as opposed to Harvard.

"Don't worry, Ivy league." She tried to get tone, but unfortunately for her, Maverick looked up. His place abruptly turned, his course target switching to Quinlan.

"Fuck. Chang of plans. I'm bait, you're firing squad." Quin's voice betrayed her and some of her worry shone through. With confirmation from the two, Quin stayed at five thousand feet, knowing Maverick couldn't go below her but he was still on her tail.

"Y'all ready for some real flying?" Maverick's voice portrayed boredom, but he was slightly impressed as it was, they had already lasted longer than Rooster.

"Don't get too comfy, Cap'n Mav" Her slight southern accent, obtained by being around her mom and being stationed in Texas, formed around the nickname. And just like that, playtime was over. Quin quickly pulled back on the joystick, her altitude quickly rising, a few twists, making sure to fly in anything but a straight line made Maverick unable to get a good tone.

"Come on, Yale! Can't keep this up for long!" Quin enjoyed evading the captain, but it was far from easy. And she didn't want to do push-ups.

"I can't get good tone, Casper! Level out and I'll be able to get it." Yales concentration was evident in his words.

"No can-do buddy, the second I level out, I'm dead. Do some cocky pilot bullshit, man!" At this point, she was getting frustrated. And then Maverick pulled up, settling behind Yale. A few curses from the boys, and Quin had an idea.

"Speed up, like, a lot." Maybe this was stupid, but maybe it would work. Maybe.

"Like, now?!" "Yes, now dumbass!" And with that, Quin replaced her plane in the place the boys just were.

"Jesus!" Mavs spoke loudly. "Saved them, but now you can’t protect them." And before Yale and Harvard could get in position, the kill tone sounded in Quin's plane.

"Well, fuck me." Quin's frustration was hard to miss,

"Not literally, boys." She wanted to curse Payback for the push-ups she was going to have to do.

"Good flying, a bit dangerous, but good. Lasted a good minute. See Hondo for your push-ups, Cas." When they reached the group, Quinlan's arms were already aching at the thought of push-ups. When she reached Hondo, he gave her a slight look of surprise. Rooster only on number one thirty-seven of his two-hundred. Quin just shrugged, getting into position next to Rooster. And so, it started. One after another, her arms already hurting at eighty. Rooster should've been done, but he kept going with Quin. She didn't know if she found it endearing, or annoying.

"Rooster, you're done. You've been done." Hondo said once again as Quin reached one fifty. Rooster, very obviously off pace and struggling, just kept doing what could maybe be called a push up. Yale, Harvard, and Hangman made their way over, and all Quin could do was groan.

"Enjoying your push-ups, babe?" In no way did Quin think they, specifically Hangman, deserved a reply, so she didn't give them one.

"Oh, come on, Rooster, you can do better than that." Yale said, foot pushing on Rooster's shoulder.

"Oh, fuck off, Uni. Lucky I saved your pathetic asses." Quin continued her push-ups, wishing she didn't save the college boy's asses'. A little surprised by her words, he removed his foot but still stood close.

"Leave it, boys." Hondo pushed them to leave, trying to get them away. The second they were out of view, Rooster collapsed, chest on the tarmac. Quin had just reached two hundred, thank god. She put her knees down, sitting up. She looked up at Hondo, nodding as he glanced at Rooster. She just confirmed this was indeed normal. Without words, she waited for him. He knew she was there, but he didn't show how he felt about it. He saw the chain peeking from her pocket, and he knew exactly what it was. That alone was enough to make his heart hurt. After all, it was his fault.

With pained arms, he got up, leaving Quin sitting, or so he thought. The little jingle of the bell on her necklace gave away her position, walking close behind him. But again, no words left her. Just the small ringing of the bell as she stepped. Oddly, it was comforting, nostalgic. When they reached where they had to go separate ways, she left a hand on his arm. Quin just stared, eyebrows furrowed, almost as if asking him if he was good. Which, of fucking course he wasn't, and she knew, but hey since when was Rooster vulnerable. He looked, for what felt like a little too long, at her blue eyes. The same care in them that was there during their first run at Top Gun, at least until he was an idiot. He huffed out a breath and turned away, but to Quin that was enough of a response. In no way, shape, or form was Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw okay. And in the following days, everyone was going to know one way or another. But till that day comes to fruition, Quin was going to enjoy a nice, long, soothing shower after the training, if one could even call it that, they endured.

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Masterlist

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[thetriggeredhappy]

sorry for cloggin up your ask box, but i don’t have an ao3 account, so i hope this will do

i love the way you write the kids, especially nikki. she’s so mature, funny and polite, makes my mouth hurt from smiling hearing her and scout talk

another thing, thank you for having the kids act normal around scout and sniper being romantic‼️ they’re not homophobic, just the usual little kid “eww kissingg”

the descriptions of panic attacks are incredibly realistic

also as someone with adhd, you wrote scout SO well. i have the inattentive type and i relate so hard, despite not being hyperactive. forgetting things that i just put in my pocket, wondering if i have my phone while literally being on it, losing your train of thought, drawing constantly, and rejection sensitive dysphoria

i hope it’s okay i’m writing you fan mail in your ask box, i don’t really read fanfic but you’ve got me hooked here. i don’t even know how i started liking sniperscout, but before i read yours i read… ah what’s the name… i forget (searched ao3, it was called “somethin’ stupid, like “i love you”” by preciousposey. man that was a good fic too)

anyway uh

thank you for being a great author!! hope you sleep well and have zero writer’s block forever <3 (and i hope your living situation gets better, i’ve made it up to ch 18 so (why am i getting deja vu writing this im sorry if i did this last time))

thank you! yeah i love nikki. i used to work with kids a lot (a LOT) and they’re just hilarious dude. sometimes these kids will say some shit that’s so excellent and so fun and so entertaining and will know what’s up and she’s kind of a representation of that. kids are great.

and yeah i guess i just don’t personally see like. the value in putting overt homophobia into the tf2 universe. there’s not really the overt expectation of ‘realism’ with the tf2 canon, and while i consider grounding these characters and putting them in more normal circumstances to expand on their more human characteristics to be kind of A Thing I Often Do, i don’t think i need the blunt instrument that is Gritty Realism Through Onscreen Bigotry to make any of the points i want to make in this series. the flavor is kept intentionally lighter throughout that series so that when it gets heavy, it hits a little harder. in other things ive written, and in things i might write in the future, that might pivot, but i don’t ever see bigotry being something necessary to the plot or development of characters in the RB universe.

writing scout as adhd feels kind of inevitable at a certain point if you’re diving into his characteristics and the way he tends to behave. we don’t have a ton to work with but, c’mon. intentionally or unintentionally, he always ends up adhd. the relatable king

and no lie i’ve been listening to ‘still alive’ a LOT lately idk what happened. i listened to that song back in like 2015 a lot then didn’t again until like. three weeks ago. portal was too good for any of us

also just goddamn the fuckin horror movie violins when someone is pre-chapter 20 of taking shots. me when i’m 2/3rds of the way through “sniper dies in this”

[wigglybunfish]

hi as a tibetan your art makes me so happy haha. thanks for taking the time to research our culture c: also if you don't mind me asking, how did chime get her scars? are they battle wounds?

hi anon!

oh holy bananapants I'm so honored??? Ever since I've started working on this story, besides the "heeheehoohoo yay indigenous ppl are so fuckin cool" dopamine injection, I've also been nervous thinking about "hey but what if I fuckup an aspect somehow without realizing it". It's a tricky trail to tread, so getting direct validation from a tibetan is as heartening as you think it is *screams into paper bag*

Researching your culture is super fun! I could look at pictures of different kinds of braids and clothing all day... and reading about all the tribes and their respective regions. (this article on hair is one of my favs)

On to the scar lore:

Chime gets her scar in an accident. She and one of her dads were on the run & taking cover from the war (same one that causes the nuclear winter). During all the chaos, they get cut off from each other by stray debris flung from the war zone. She tumbles down a tiny cliff and scrapes her cheek pretty bad. It is healed into a scar after she's rescued to a monastery.

(It would be cool if she gets it from a battle though... alas my girl is a baby teen at the time and only receives martial arts training after becoming a nun)

She also has a smaller, more subtle scar besides the one on her cheek. It's a cut through her left brow, which she's had since childhood.

that's pretty much the scar lore i have to offer at this time.

btw If you're comfortable in doing so, please poke me hard (read: send another ask or DM if you're up for it) when you spot anything and all things tibetan that's inaccurate! I try to get things right as much as possible, but I do get most of my info from online articles, movies, books, and videos by tibetan youtubers. I am but a taiwanese suburban kid that hasn't yet met a tibetan person physically + have a conversation with them, despite my efforts lol

mistakes are prone to happen, and I thirst for authentic lore as much as knowledge :)c

here's a baby chime. she's a bit scruffy hope u don't mind

[deviousdiesel]

Hey, wanna hear some unnecessary thoughts about Lemon from someone who’s watched Thomas?

Lemon mentions that the Momomon anime airs every Thursday at 9 AM after Thomas airs. But what specific Thomas show and season? I wonder. The short answer? Well, my closest guess is probably Thomas and Friends: Big World Big Adventures (aka “BWBA”) which is the 22nd - 24th seasons of Thomas. But more specifically, it may have been in its 23rd season airing in Japan during 2020.

From what I gather from the film’s adaptation of Lemon, he strikes me as someone who was a fan of the classic series of the model era (early season stuff, series 1-5) and grew up with it.  The CGI era however is complex with its history and he seems more of an on-and-off watcher of it, he still appreciates the Thomas series even if he doesn’t watch the newer series as much as he did as he was younger (and BWBA doesn’t have the same caliber and direction as the previous Thomas series)

In the novel, it’s very clear that Lemon has watched up until s7 of Thomas, which was in its model era in the 2000s. 

I think it tracks because even if it’s the CGI series, which is more modern and has a LOT of differences, I think Lemon would still be interested in watching it to some extent even if the newer stuff doesn’t hit as hard as the classic series he watched.

The long answer? If you’re a fuckin nerd and want to read I can indulge you.

A lot of this is just purely from my observation and my own take (and this is just silly so I really hope you know that).

Bullet Train started its production in October of 2020 - which I’m going to assume is when and where the movie takes place in because the majority was shot during that time - and incidentally, that same month Mattel had announced that Thomas was getting a brand new reboot called All Engines Go, which is a 2D animated production.

Thomas has a few distinctive mediums on television and it’s divided into the model series, CGI series and AEG, which is its own thing. Lemon obviously is shown to have grown up watching Thomas so he’s more versed in the model series and its characters.

Fun fact: In the novel, he mentions a few more characters who appear not only in early seasons but also season 7.

[bisexual-yuri]

Talent and Blessings Don’t Matter in the Hospital (Lessons from ECMC)

There is only so much process you can reasonably expect someone to do 

I feel like I’ve hit my limit

Shit’s got me feeling bored and stupid like the village idiot 

Need my creativity need a job 

I’m all full of all sort of needs to sort out this agony of idleness

They say it’s a kindness to myself to take so much time to myself but what do I do all by myself except circle a drain I don’t want to drain out of?

Can I take a plane or a train off this cliff of boredom without alarming me and everyone that loves me?

Still processing neuropathy and dark shit discussed in therapy 

Like the fact that the nurses sedated me against my will needlessly because they were scared of me 

Don’t care that they’re the real scary she’s, the real scary ones 

The ones keeping me locked away from the sun and the fan

It felt like nobody cared that the son of God sees all including patient abuse, including how if you scary enough they’ll take your fuckin’ shoes 

They don’t got a clue the trauma they causer with the drama and gel/powder painted claws, damaging psych mentality, my prayer is done so more it be

Amanda and JD, were they manic or just anxious?

Why did Corey have to take all this?

Why won’t Fawzi just get all the words out?

Why wouldn’t they just let Jaxem the fuck out?

People no danger to themselves or me

Still in lockup, docs give no fucks you see 

False profits and false prophets get out easy

Druggin’ the fun out of Aggie

You ain’t fun no more, that’s how you get free

Behavior in the health, good behavior in hell

And it doesn’t even come with Mercy

Quitting’ Cymbalta cold turkey

Can’t see color, can’t smell nothin’, feelin’ wonky

Temperature a mess, cold water on hot hands

No one cares to listen, no one really understands that big emotions are not themselves a disease

Drug’ll fuck your mind up till you can’t even see

I’m Eliza spitting’ rhymes now, not lies now, no I’m no fucking donkey

It’s a song but I wrote it in the wrong key

Singin’ red teeth, spitting truth through the nose bleed 

Now I got time to kill but no blood to spill

You can’t take anything further away from me

Robbed of all my autonomy, my work and my loves all a trifecta of purgatory

Abuse and sex crimes by blonde bitches who look at me and see witches

Plural

I’m just one person, big feelings on a fleshly mural 

Trying to make sense of the senseless violence done to me 

Trying to make sense of the senseless violence done period 

I’m deadly serious 

This shit needs to get a hard look at it 

A world full of angels seeking their halos and wings, instead get shot down with syringes and bans that take wedding rings 

No wedding ring for me, no wedding ring for Sarah not even a tattoo

In the hospital they treat you like a damn fool and then wonder why you behave any differently 

Sorry ECMC but the truth you saw in there ain’t the real me, it’s the me you brought out of me

It’s the eagle you carved out of a hummingbird that was trying to rest on a dead tree

I’m not a dead me, I’m just me, so why did you try killing me to make me whole again?

I’ll tell you doc, you have cost me all sorts of friends by locking me up in this shit 

Made some new ones too, but the anger and the loss are harder pills to swallow than anything you gave me in follow up

Divorce the PTSD, divorce from real me, you people never trusted me to take care of me

It’s scary

I know in a moment I had lost my mind, but damn is that license to be so fucking unkind? 

How am I supposed to find peace in the belly of the beast? 

How is anyone supposed to heal when you hit them hard with rules about what is and isn’t real?

Makes you wonder who’s the delusional one, the patients or the system

All I know is the needle toothed fucker takes everyone as a victim and doesn’t care if we scream or we cry

More fuel for the fire, more reasons to make people want to die to escape this

I know Al, you’re still here and you can’t take this 

Neither can I, knowing people suffer every day in this hellfire of some hospital’s fucked up design 

But what can I do, I’m just one person and I don’t even have a second shoe to drop because of what the hospital took from me 

I have a lot of friends, lot of family 

Most people ain’t so lucky

Screaming on the wind “why did you do this to me and him and her and them and everybody?”

I wish I knew an answer, I wish I had a better answer than just to scream

Maybe someday when I am healed I will have energy to dream of a better future for this

But for now, all I can do is sleep

[atinylittlepain]

Let’s talk about Bruce. In celebration of my *gulp* upcoming milestone birthday, I’m creating a playlist of all of my favorite songs from the year I was born.

And I’ll let you figure out the milestone birthday by doing some simple math, but Born in the USA was released that year, and I am STRUGGLING to pick just one fave from that album for this “best of” playlist.

I listen to I’m on Fire like a maniac, but I also have soft spots for I’m Goin Down, Workin on the Highway, DANCING IN THE FUCKIN DARK, Bobby Jean…all of them.

Dilemma.

Anyway hope the Monday blues leave you alone.

DANCING IN THE FUCKIN DARK lmao love that

the math do be mathing, and hey, that's a goddamn exciting birthday, i love this playlist idea

okay so, the thing about Born in the USA is i like the whole damn thing BUT, there is a favorite child in the mix :')

it's Downbound Train, hands down, probably one of my top three favorite bruce songs - there's something about that over-saturated drum beat, the imagery of the wedding house - UGH, i truly, truly love that song - fun fact, that song almost wound up on Nebraska - it was like, a Nebraska and Born in the USA cusp lmao, but they ultimately decided to give that one up to the band and make it a little bigger - but you can hear the echoes of Nebraska in this one, it's a little more mourning, a little darker than the rest of the album, at least i think

that being said, i'm pretty sure Bobby Jean is my second favorite off that album, but it's HARD to choose lol

[arcplaysgames]

P3P is a wrap, lets start P4G

Just to be totally clear, as soon as I started the game, it had some.... weird opening that I did not remember, so I looked into mods because the original P4 OP has lived in my head for, what, 15 years? It's a fucking phenomenal sequence, I'll drop a link in the comments if I remember because its SUPER GOOD. da da da dun na na. da da da dun na na.

So full disclosure, here's my mods:

I basically grabbed all the mods by this one person bc they all seemed like basic UI mods? I am not even sure what the Blue Aeon Arcana one is tho. Who the fuck is Aeon? No idea. Maybe another cool robot who falls in love with me. (No spoilers pls.)

I saw some mods that would retouch some of the Social Links to account for how, uh, odd they are, like Naoto's. I'm resisting the urge. I wanna give this game a fair shot and see how it does, disappointing fumbles and all.

... Is the Velvet Room a limo now? That... would be kind of neat, I'm not going to lie. Before it was an elevator. What is it in P5, I wonder? Another transitory place? Hm hm.

Serious guess: Train car.

Fun Guess: Ice cream truck. Do they have ice cream trucks in Japan? I want one with the fish-shaped red bean ice cream.

This isn't fair, I'm always a slut for neon. Super digging this vibe.

Why not. I have used "Reverie" for most games for years, because calling myself "Arc" in games makes it hard to roleplay, 'cause... that's me? And I still suck at last names, so I shall borrow from a true hottie, a real babe.

Interestingly, he has a full grid there to work from but only gives me the corners. What spread you pulling, bro.

and then uuuuuh sm-smash cut to a teenager selling weight loss soda? Oh boy. Oh god. I wanna go back to Iwatodai.

I guess I'm a boy this time. SIGH.

INTERESTING that P3P's FeMC had XXII prominently on her body and wound up The Universe/The World, the final card of the Majors. This guy has II, which could either be The Magician or more likely The Priestess (since I think Persona counts The Fool as 0).

Or maybe he's a Sollux fan, who could fuckin' say.

I can't begin to speculate on this. Whatever. We're going to stay with our Uncle in Iwatodai Yasoinaba.

Nice voice, slow cadence, sad-looking man. I like you already.

Lmao Nanako gives him a smack on the ass for embarrassing her. She's so tiny!

what the fuck who are you. I don't remember you. She bumped into me and handed me a thing I dropped??? Why do you have a portrait.

ugh i don't think I remember much about this game, oh dear.

.... Why. The fuck does the gas station attendant. Have a voice that is like....... seriously pinging my Wait I Know That Voice Actor radar.

Ah, the era of "there are 20 voice actors in this industry and twelve of them are Steve Blum in various hats."

uh and then they shake my hand and my character-- Reverie-- gets lightheaded. What the hell. Is the gas station attendant important?

who knows. didn't get a character portrait so I'm gonna say not.

also the same girl who handed me the thing i dropped now doesn't remember me sooooooo okay whatever, lets roll.

[herdiex]

Why do we love to hate?

in 2020, when i was 12, i LOVED dream's videos, as lots of young people did and still do. then i heard maybe a year later that he did something wrong, i didnt even know what exactly, then i spent much of my time judging my friends who still liked dream since 'he did something wrong'.

i feel that this experience happened a lot to me a few years ago - I'd hear about something bad someone online did and immediately hop on the hate train. don't get me wrong, there is MANY online that are worth hating, because lots of people, especially those who are famous, suck. But, I'd hear some vague rumor about someone sucking and be happy to immediately start hating them; even if it was someone that i'd liked briefly??

for a long time this confused me deeply after i grew out of that mindset. why would i WANT to hate someone, someone who i'd actually been a fan of at points? i don't think im alone in this experience, and my best guess is that certain sectors of the internet, like the ones i'd spend my time in, breed this negativity. these'd be the kind of people nowadays spending their time on twitter getting pissed about random stuff.

throughout history, people love to hate. it's the reason why gossiping with your friends brings you closer to them, and making fun of someone does the same thing. in a weird kind of way, hating, depending on why, makes us feel really good? everyone has something different that they might hate, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone in the world that doesn't hate SOMETHING.

well, why does hating make us feel so good? i'd love to hear your opinion, but i think its because it just gives us something to be angry at other than ourselves. as drew gooden, a youtuber i love says in his video 'Why is Everybody Mad About Everything', "it feels really fuckin good to be angry sometimes", because it distracts us from ourselves. if we're constantly pissed off about something going on in the world, we don't have the time to be pissed off at our own situations, our own selves, because who wants to be mad at something so sad when we can be mad about some internet shit?

genuinely looking inwards will ALWAYS be harder than finding some source to take your anger out on - but i hope this post makes you think about what you might be angry at right now, and helps you reflect - why am i actually angry about this?

[sputnikodin]

3, 8, 11, 19!

thanks so much west :D

Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year? oh this one's HARD -- my music taste exploded this year!!! i got into ambient and IDM and industrial and a lot of other stuff that was previously far beyond my palate. although i love aphex twin and my favorite songs i discovered this year came from him, i'd have to say autechre -- i've listened to tri repetae so many times i feel like it has its own dedicated cluster of neurons.

Game of the year? NEW VEGAS ....... AGAIN!!!! just kidding. i haven't finished it yet but i really loved roadwarden. very innovative and engaging game, i need to get back into it. i also have to say splatoon 3 cuz my little sister nudging me to buy it so i could play with her got me back into splatoon in a big way & it brings me almost daily joy

Something you want to do again next year? go to minor league baseball games at the park near me!!!! holy shit!!!!! i only got to go to one before the season ended this year but it was a transformative experience. i'm planning on spending most of my weekends at the ballpark this year since tickets are so cheap and it's like a 40 min train ride away.

What’re you excited about for next year? event-wise, i'm planning to visit mar during the baseball season so we can go to a giants game together :+) it'll be my first giants game and my first MLB game, and it'll also be with my beloved, so i'm really looking forward to it. more broadly: just continuing to settle into who i am. the last two or so years have been a lot of hard work & adjustment & growth and while that wheel never stops turning, i'm hopeful that in 2024 i'll manage to push myself less and enjoy the fruits of my labors more -- in the sense of just fuckin chilling out for a bit and getting to know this shiny new version of myself. Al's Year of Having Fun

[lokisis]

Just a lot of thoughts below. No common theme tbh

Perhaps I should do a tutorial on how I draw spam sometime? I've seen a couple tries of emulating my style so I think it might be fun to give a Direct way to do it. Not to say the emulations were bad! I just think it would be fun 2 do.

I have a love hate relationship with Hotel California. It's a good god damn song. But I heard it literally Every Day after school for like 2 years. I put it in one of my playlists to antagonize myself.

I often wonder what people think of me. Am I a good person? Am I doing right by myself? I don't know. I hope I'm good. I hope I'm kind and approachable. But looking back at my last relationship.. I don't know. It was definitely my fault but he also made me so upset so often. I hope I don't do that to anyone else

I get compliments about my line art a lot. Usually along the lines of "it's so smooth/clean/etc" Here's a fun fact: my hands are chronically shaky. Probably because I don't eat enough but I digress. I want you to open your art program and find the stabilizer. Or correction or whatever the fuck it's called. Turn it up to the point you can make a somewhat unsure line into a confident one. Bam, you're already 70% of the way to how I do my lines. The rest is experience and a trained eye ;]

I really want someone to hold and kiss and love. I have so much of it, and I can't give it to anyone near me. Why? I already dated most of my friends. It would be weird. Just really want someone I'm close to that I can snuggle up to again. I miss that comfort.

I realized, after I made the Blue and Spam post, that Pink is ALSO based on a family member. See, my mom has 2 sisters. The one like Spam, and the one I accidentally made Pink act like. For ease, Mo is pink, KT is spam, and Ma is blue. Mo fucking HATES KT. Doesn't want anything to do with her. But just like Ma, if KT actually needed her help, she'd be there. Begrudgingly, of course.

I wonder how long it usually takes people to make art like mine. For me, if it's just Spamton and no other characters/objects, it takes maybe 2 - 3 hours. That's the full piece. From sketch to post. I'm very fast at what I do so I wonder. I truly do!

My music taste leans heavily towards rock, but hard rock has never caught me quite as much as the rest. Maybe I just haven't found the right kind. Honestly finding new music is always a treat. My mom absolutely loves Rush, and I can see why! But I also love pretty much Everything! Musicals to pop to acapella to fuckin opera if it's good. Rock is a Huge genre, so I guess that's why my taste is so open to begin with. Gotta say tho, raising your kid on motley crue and guns n roses isn't the Best idea if you want an Obedient child.

I love drawing hands. I enjoy the process of feeling out the movement and flow. Hands are so expressive and I genuinely love drawing them. I can understand ppl hating them, but that doesn't mean I agree. Just take the time to learn and you'll see.

Oh right, I should say if you have any opinions/commentary/whatever abt all this shit I'm totally down for a full on rant. Ok. Time to sleep.

[spotsupstuff]

Hi I'm back again

Sorry for any bad takes, while I've done lore dives for other media in the past I've never hyperfixated as much as I have with Rain World. The complete and total void of information about so many things in this game has driven me to the brink of insanity so every little detail I notice I'm like "ah what if this is actually important and lore related and mmm wild speculation"

Also I fricking feel like I'm apologizing way too much. I absolutely refuse to apologize for having my weird-ass speculations, but I will apologize for dumping all of my unedited speculative rambles in your inbox. As I said tell me to shut up at any time I don't want to to be annoying or anything also I'm probably overthinking this damn it talking to people is hard

(And absolutely PLEASE give your opinions!!!! The whole reason I'm dumping my stupid ramblings in your inbox is because you have the COOLEST lore and being able to rant about my stupid theories and hear some of your theories and ideas in exchange-- shbddhgbjksttd I'm having too much fun)

What you said about artistic choice and stuff makes total sense-- I haven't really drawn ancients except for some stupid little doodles (and yeah, their hair is hard. the little circles make way more sense as 'shape defining artistic feature' rather than 'possible lore detail') and I have no idea what I'm doing anyways BUT I am going to offer a very small and completely nonsensical defense for my tentacle-hair-bone-thing theory cause I honestly just think it would be funny if they had cactus skulls

the holy grail of ancient imagery returns

that one specific tentacle. it looks like it pokes straight up before flopping over. I'm reaaaally grasping at straws now lol

Different topic-- I absolutely think that the ancients practiced some form of limb-binding. The difference in feet sizes between some of the images of them, the cloth wrappings, the fact that iterators don't (canonically) have 'feet' feet... I also think some ancients may have done the same to their hands? I mean, look at the karma 4 mural. That dude has weird hands. And feet. And way too many tits. Ancients are just fricking weird.

But yeah if any of my theories or thought trains or anything are weird or don't make sense just know I have no clue what I'm doing, I'm just throwing stuff at the walls and hoping some of it sticks haha

(Join me, next time, for 'Why Ancients Really Liked Birds~~')

yea, u r apologizing too fuckin much!!! -baps you with a newspaper- lord in heaven... /lh not sayin by this that u do annoy me- but i'd suggest makin these into posts n throwin em into the main tag rather than yeetin 'em all at my inbox! so more peeps can see 'em n such, you might find more people with neat opinions, who knows. but also thank you for finding my stuff that cool jgsdlkmcklsdmgklsd

GJKSDLKLMD I CAN,,, REFUTE THAT AS WELL BUT I WILL TELL YOU THIS: if you find it funny then that is all the reason you need for the thing being a canon tidbit for your stuff. a lot of my lore building comes from "wouldn't it be funny if..." and then committing to it

oh they absolutely Are doing some fucked up binding. it would make a lot of sense if Videocult implemented that- since they are already taking inspiration from Buddhism, it would make sense for them to jump into China n other surrounding cultures to look for inspiration for fucked up aspects a culture can enforce and then spin it out into interesting lore for a game. so from Chinese feet binding we get to multiple body parts binding (stars above, sin two mural the ancient's on top feet... it never hit how Tiny those are. also who da FUCK IS HAVING SEX IN SNEAKERS, GODDAMMIT. WHAT IS THIS BITCH.)

the hands i like to blame on religious mutilation and the fuckin... third n fourth "tits" are just fat storage- the upper pair are the proper tits in the sense that they are the muscles that move the arms. but oh how i adore it when people give four boobs to their Ancient designs it's so funny to me... praise the boobification

n tsk, aaaaaarhg, "weird"... that's the basis for the best stuff. this is an alien world, anything goes. the more fucked up it is the better it will be (-gestures to face tentacles n the back gills of my interpretations-)

[veilder]

How about 2 and 11 for the fandom asks? :)

Ooh, thank you, friend! :D (For the Fandom Year in Review Asks here.)

2. Favorite ships this year Oh man, what a loaded question, lol. Well, as I'm sure many of you know, I've fallen hard back into Trigun in 2023, lol! So I just have... a whole shitload of ships I've been reading for that, omg. Fave is probably Millyons (Knives x Milly lol) at this point, though, omg. (I blame @eomma-jpeg fully for this. >_>) But I still have such a huge soft spot for VashMeryl, too, as well as some other rarepairs like KLR (Knives/Livio/Razlo) or Kniveswood (Knives/Wolfwood 😅). Yes, there is a trend here... No, I won't examine it. >_> As for other media, I'm still well in to Genshin Impact as usual and my favorite Chili bois have yet to be unseated as my all time faves, lol. (I.e. Childe/Zhongli) I'm still like moderately invested in the Cyno/Alhaitham rarepair as well, though I haven't read as much for them. But perhaps the biggest surprise of all though is how down bad I am about Neuvillette x Furina. Like damn son, me stanning a straight ship in Genshin? XD This hasn't happened since Ayaka x Thoma. XD And I'm way more invested in Neuvy and Furina anyway, goodness. The whole Fontaine story arc absolutely destroyed me and I loved the two of them in it so much. I hope they get to be happy soon in the future. 😭😭😭

As for other IPs... Y'all know I still love DBH in my heart and still stan Convin and North60 with my life. I'm also still riding that FFVII Remake train and may or may not have read a bunch of Sefikura this year... >_> (Sephiroth/Cloud for those who don't know. Because the inherent eroticism of being sworn enemies will never not appeal to me. >_>) And also IkeSoren and Dimidue (Dimitri/Dedue) from Fire Emblem still live in my heart indefinitely. But also, a lot of my fandoms I've read this year I've been reading a lot of platonic stuff for, too. Haha, can't even list LotR/Silmarillion on here because all I ever read for that is Feanorian family feels. XD

11. Biggest squee moments of the year (For ye youths who no longer use such awesome terminology, that means the fandom moments that made your heart cry out in overwhelming joy. Can y’all believe that “squee” didn’t quite stand the test of time??)

Oh man, I'm trying to think here... Tbh, I've not watched very much new media this year and the stuff that was new was usually also pretty sad, lol. 😅 However... though it's a tad bit bittersweet, the end of Genshin's Fontaine Archon Quest just... destroyed me in the best way? Especially Furina's reaction to everything... (I'm trying to be vague here to avoid spoilers. XD) Like, I felt such palpable relief and joy for her after it all went down. Maybe not exactly a squee moment, but I was definitely inordinately happy, haha. XD

And you know what else? Her damn character trailer. XD It was so fun?! Absolutely chaotic and whimsical and so over the top and I've watched it so many fuckin times. XD Dang, I love her. 💙

Also, just mark down like a bunch of fanfic moments, lol, because of course. XD I couldn't list them all if I tried but... The two that immediately came to mind for me were Milly and Knives' whole relationship in @eomma-jpeg's exeptional fic In the Meadow, and also the last posted chapter of Bgtea's ridiculously long and ridiculously good Genshin fic, Entirely Out of Spite. (I recommend these both wholeheartedly.)

But yes, hope my meandering answers were satisfactory, @keltii-tea. Thank you for the asks! XD