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onecanonlife · 3 years

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careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 6,196

Chapter Warnings: swearing, implied s.uidical ideation, non-graphic panic attack

Chapter Summary: In which Wilbur frankly has no idea how a reunion with his father is supposed to go, considering the circumstances. Also, a ghost makes an appearance.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Three: listening for that angel choir

He comes to awareness violently, lurching into a sitting position, his hand outstretched before him. He is silent, but that’s probably only because he trained himself to be, back when they were so afraid of someone finding where they were, down in that dark, hidden ravine, stone on all sides and darkness above, closing in. He doesn’t remember what he was dreaming about,

(fire all around and the world falling to pieces and it’s all so very beautiful, and the worst thing is Tommy’s horrified face but he’s too far gone to care)

but the vestiges cling to him like cobwebs, difficult to shake off. He takes a moment to steady himself, to bring his breathing back under control, and then looks around, the remembrance of where he is coming swiftly. Technoblade’s living room is unchanged from last night, but there is no sign of Technoblade himself.

There is, however, someone in the kitchen.

He can smell food—eggs, he thinks. There’s someone moving around, their tread light and sure, and he knows those footsteps, knows them like he knows his own name.

He is standing before he can think better of it, and it is habit that keeps his own strides silent. He walks to the doorway of the kitchen and stops there, stops because there is a man at the stove, his back turned to him, but Wilbur doesn’t need to see his face to know him. He never has.

Something about this picture is wrong, though, and he doesn’t know what it is. He’s seen this a thousand times, if not in this setting, has woken up to this exact thing on countless occasions, back in their old home, back before Techno started going off to tournaments, before Tommy and he left to make their own ways, before Phil started spending more and more time on hardcore worlds, out of contact. Before all of that, it was just this, just Phil making them all breakfast in the sun-soaked morning.

Something about it is wrong, and he can’t pick it out, and he can’t stand here forever. He could leave, could turn his back and slip out the front door when no one is watching, but that won’t be well-received, and he hardly wants to be followed. That really only gives him one other option, and it’s ridiculous, how fast his heart is beating, because it’s just Phil.

(it’s just Phil, and that’s the problem, isn’t it? just Phil, and you can’t face him, not after what he did, not after what you made him do)

It’s just Phil.

So he leans against the doorway, and he clears his throat.

Phil whirls around, spatula raised.

(was he always on such a hair trigger? or is that new?)

He lowers it after a split second, his face flickering through several expressions too fast for Wilbur to process. Eventually, he settles on a warm smile, but there is something lurking around the edges, something that he is hiding, though Wilbur has no hope of figuring out what. For some reason, this doesn’t feel like seeing Techno again at all. With Techno, it barely took a moment for old patterns to resurface, barely took a moment to remember how to read him, but with Phil, it’s almost like looking at the face of a stranger.

(did you think he’d be the same? did you think he would be unaffected? even the most stable of anchors rusts eventually, exposed to the deep water)

“Wilbur!” Phil says, and he could weep to hear the sound of his voice, even though it hasn’t been that long, not technically. Not that long since the last time Ghostbur spoke to him. “Good morning! Did you sleep alright?”

He thinks about his nightmares and decides not to say anything.

“Pretty alright,” he says, and then adds, belatedly, “Good morning.”

The words come out awkwardly. It’s too casual, too normal, and everything that’s happened since the last time they ate breakfast together is sitting in the air between them, about as unobtrusive as a flashing creeper and just as dangerous. There’s too much left unsaid, and he has no idea how to go about fixing that.

So he just keeps standing there. Silently. And Phil stands there too, just as silent, just as watchful, just as awkward, and perhaps Wilbur should take comfort in the fact that he, too, seems to have no idea what to do. But he finds no room for comfort within himself, only a vague resentment, because wasn’t Phil planning to bring him back anyway? Just what was his plan for afterward, if he had managed to succeed? Was it this? This silence, this hesitance, this painful awareness of the distance between them, of all the things that went so bitterly, terribly wrong?

If this was his plan, Wilbur can’t say that he’s all that impressed with it.

But then, Phil steps forward. Only a bit, and slowly, as if he’s approaching a startled animal. Wilbur would be angry at the implication if he didn’t feel like he was one, if there weren’t something snarling and desperate caged within his ribcage, calling for him to either fight or flee.

“Would it—” Phil starts, and then stops, and it’s odd, because Wilbur doesn’t remember his father ever being so hesitant. Phil’s confidence has always been quiet, but at the same time unmistakable, and that makes this so very strange. “Would it be alright if I hugged you?” he goes on to say, and Wilbur’s brain stutters to a halt.

He can’t help but remember

(the spatula becomes a sword and his great creation is in ruins around him and he is laughing and sobbing and wild and everything is spiraling, spiraling, and what a glorious destruction it is, a beautiful chaos, and the center cannot hold and he is begging pleading shouting and there are tears streaming down his father’s face and an awful waver in his voice, but the sword is in his chest and he can feel nothing but relief, relief, relief, it’s over now, you can rest, your symphony is not finished never finished but it is over at long last, good night, good night and goodbye)

the last time Phil held him.

But that was then, and this is now,

(isn’t it?)

and Phil is watching him with an expression that might be either desperation or hunger, masked behind a slight smile, and that is what drives him to nod, what drives him to open his arms slightly, and then Phil is embracing him, and—

The mess in his head goes quiet. Just for a second, his father is enough to drive his demons away.

And it’s like fireworks on his skin, fireworks at first and then an all-encompassing warmth, and he doesn’t fit into Phil’s arms quite the same as he did when he was a child, is taller, older, cobbled-together pieces of the bright future he used to have, but something in him recognizes this feeling, recognizes it as safety, as comfort, as home. He slumps a bit, melting into the touch, and Phil doesn’t complain at suddenly holding up half of his weight, just adjusts his position a bit and grips him tightly, like he thinks that Wilbur might disappear if he lets go.

“God, Wil,” Phil murmurs. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

Wilbur closes his eyes against the words. He doesn’t have the heart to tell Phil that he isn’t. Even if for a moment, he can pretend. Pretend that this was his idea, that he’s alright with this, that what he wishes more than anything else isn’t to escape back into rest and away from this world that is too bright and too sharp and too laden with consequences.

“It’s good to see you,” he says instead, and that, at least, is mostly honest.

His hands are clutching the back of Phil’s shirt, entangled in the fabric, and beneath his hands, he can feel Phil’s wings shifting. It is then that he realizes what he didn’t, earlier: Phil is hiding his wings, and that is what is wrong, because Phil never does that around the house. Never.

Though, come to think of it, Ghostbur never saw him with his wings out either. Not once.

Did Ghostbur ever question it? Did he ask and then forget about it, because the answer upset him? Or did he just not bother, presuming that Phil had his reasons and that everything was alright? That sounds like something Ghostbur would do, and for a moment, he is overwhelmed by a seething rage at his dead counterpart, because why couldn’t he ever be useful—

(better to be useless and happy than alive and miserable and the cause of everyone else’s misery to boot, better to forget than to remember, better to let it all go and float away in the wind with the dandelions and the blue blue sky)

“Are you alright?” Phil asks, and he realizes that he’s balled his hands into fists. He pulls away from the hug, steps back to meet Phil’s eyes, pretends that the sudden lack of contact doesn’t leave him feeling bereft.

He tries for a smile. He doesn’t think he manages very well. His skin feels as though it’s stretching oddly, as though it’s forgotten the proper shape for the expression.

“I’m fine,” he says, and that—that is a lie. That is a lie for sure. But what else is he supposed to say?

The wings—or lack thereof—are bothering him. Now that he’s spotted their absence, he can’t unsee it. He’s not sure how to ask, though, because he has the sneaking suspicion that

(he shielded you you idiot shielded you from your own explosion from your own destruction don’t you remember don’t you remember the way he cried out and the feathers in the air and he was holding you holding you don’t you remember don’t you remember how he tried to protect you even to the last don’t you remember)

there’s something about it that he’s not understanding, still, and he hates this, hates not even being able to trust to his own recollections, but he supposes that’s what he gets for his troubles. A beating heart and a mind full of holes and a wide open world that feels like a cage and a precarious stability that he thinks might go out from under him at any moment, like sand into a hidden ravine, and he’ll be sent down, down, down—

“Oh, great,” Techno says, and Wilbur jerks, wheeling around. He hadn’t heard him—but then, Techno has always been able to move far more silently than ought to be possible for someone with such a terrifying presence, with such a weight to his blood-soaked step. “You guys are being weird, aren’t you?”

He blinks.

“What?”

“We’re not being weird, what are you on about?”

His voice overlaps with Phil’s, and it’s a bit weird.

Techno snorts, stepping further into the kitchen. “Don’t be weird in my house, you guys,” he says. “If you’ve gotta be weird, do it somewhere else. I can’t take this.”

“What, the great Technoblade can’t handle an awkward social situation?” he says, and there is more bite to his voice than he intends, and Techno hears it, judging by the way his lips twist into a scowl.

“You know I can’t,” he says. “I hate socializing.”

What should have been a joke has turned into something that is—not. Wilbur should have known better than to push, maybe, should have known better than to call Techno out, because Techno does hate socializing, does hate being forced into awkward situations, hates an enemy that he cannot defeat with his sword. But then, none of that is quite right either, because awkward social situations are one thing. This should be quite another. Because they’re family, or at least, they’re meant to be, and no amount of awkwardness should be able to outweigh that. And yet, here they are, Techno glaring and Phil quiet and Wilbur suppressing the urge to bolt from the room and start sprinting across the tundra.

Staying the night was a mistake. Not leaving when he could was a bigger one. He’s not sure what he was thinking.

(he does, he does know what he was thinking, and he was thinking that he wanted things to be the way they used to be, if he was going to be alive, if he was going to be forced to live in this world once again, he wanted a family that was strong and steady and whole, not the fractured mess that this is, not fragmented and separated and snapping at one another’s throats)

“I’m making breakfast,” Phil puts in. He seems so very weary. Wilbur’s not sure why he’s only picking up on that now, but the bags under his eyes could probably pass for bruises. “Techno, Wil, how about you sit down? The eggs’ll be off in just a few minutes.”

Techno huffs, shooting Wilbur one last glare. But then, he does as Phil asks, sidling past to sit at the dining table, the chair legs making an awful scraping sound against the floor.

Wilbur remains standing.

“C’mon, Wilbur, come sit down,” Techno says. “I want eggs.”

Something shifts. His blood is buzzing, like his veins have been replaced with live wires. It’s a picture of domesticity, father making breakfast and son waiting for it, and he belonged here once but now he’s a piece that doesn’t fit, his edges worn away and grown out wrong.

(they shouldn’t fit either, and it’s wrong that they do, wrong that they’re comfortable with this even when the picture is incomplete and Tommy isn’t here)

“I’m not staying,” he blurts out. He doesn’t know he’s going to say it until he does. And once he does, it’s out there, and he can’t take it back. But he doesn’t think he would if he could. It’s the truth, even if he’s only just discovering it. He’s not staying. He can’t.

Phil has turned back to the stove, but Wilbur can see the way his back goes stiff, the way his shoulders hunch, just a little.

“It’s breakfast,” Techno says slowly, almost bewildered, if Techno did bewilderment. He doesn’t, usually, but perhaps that’s another thing that’s changed sometime between Wilbur’s death and now. “You can’t stay for breakfast?”

“I can make something else, if you don’t want eggs,” Phil murmurs. Wilbur barely catches the words.

“It’s not about the eggs and you know it,” he snaps, and then stops to take a breath. Phil is silent. “Look, I wasn’t even planning on being here as long as I have been. Where’s Tommy?”

“At his old home, I think,” Techno says. He is holding himself very still, watching Wilbur very carefully, and viciously, cruelly, Wilbur considers making the attack that he is so clearly expecting. Considers leaping across the table and going for his throat, rolling around on the ground like they did when they were kids, playing, roughhousing, sparring, only this wouldn’t be any of those things. He wouldn’t be able to defeat Technoblade, of course, but he’d be able to get a good few licks in, even if he doesn’t have a real reason to do so,

(he wasn’t there for Tommy he left Tommy alone left him to that monster’s mercy he abandoned him and even when Tommy came to him he discarded him again tossed him aside as if they weren’t raised together weren’t brothers as if none of it meant anything at all he spawned withers in L’manberg and destroyed it destroyed it all destroyed even what it stood for and there won’t be any coming back from that)

even if his rage is aimless, directionless, building in him like a volcano begging to erupt, begging to destroy everything in its path, to delight in the carnage and—

He’s felt like this before. He’s felt like this before, and it didn’t end well, and it set the stage for all of Tommy’s suffering, and if that’s not a reason to try to hold back, he doesn’t know what is.

“That’s not what I was asking,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m asking you why he’s not here. You don’t see a problem with it?”

“We’re not on the best terms with Tommy at the moment,” Phil says quietly, and Wilbur wishes he would turn around so he could see his expression, but for now he’ll settle for glowering at his back.

(where was the father when his son needed him the most? not there, not there, never there, and what happened to the father who raised them, to the father who promised he would always be by their sides?)

“And whose fault is that?” he demands. “He’s a fucking kid, Phil! He needed someone in his corner, literally anyone, and I’m sorry, but the fucking amnesiac ghost couldn’t quite cut it!”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Phil asks. “Do you really think I don’t have any regrets? That I wouldn’t give anything to have him here, safe with us?” Phil wheels around, then, and usually, in times past, such a motion would be accompanied by a flaring of wings, an instinctive response, but there are no wings behind him, and without them he looks so very small. Once again, Wilbur is struck with that overwhelming sense of wrongness. “I know damn well that I failed him, Wil, that I failed all of you. You don’t need to tell me. I already know.”

“Phil, wait, no—” Techno starts, but Phil shakes his head.

“I have, Techno, don’t try to deny it. I’ve failed you all, and the worst bit is that even when I had chances to try to fix things, I didn’t take them. Haven’t taken them.” He meets Wilbur’s eyes. “All I can do about that is apologize. I am sorry, truly. But Tommy doesn’t want to see me. He’s made that clear, both after you died and after Techno and I destroyed L’Manberg. If you’ve got ideas, Wilbur, I’m open to them.”

And really, what is he supposed to say to that? His rage shrivels up, becoming something cold and hard and acrid on his tongue. Phil believes what he’s saying, that much is clear, and perhaps that’s the most disappointing thing of all, that he’s given up so easily, given up on keeping their family together.

(part of him understands. part of him understands that in the wake of everything, in the wake of his father murdering one of his sons and alienating the other, of course he would retreat to the third, to the one who was still there, to the one he thought he could still help. part of him understands the way that he clings to Techno, unwilling to lose, in his eyes, the only son he had left to him. part of him understands why Phil always takes Techno’s side)

(but part of him whispers, bitter and sharp, that Techno has always been the favorite. so was it ever really a choice, between Techno and Tommy? did he lose sleep over it, any time during the late watches of the night? or was he secure in his opinion that he’d done all that he could do, even though he never tried to do more?)

“I need to go,” he says, and braces himself for their renewed protests. But Techno is silent, and at length, Phil nods once, short and sharp.

“Will you be coming back?” he asks, and Wilbur gives the question due consideration.

“Maybe,” he says. “We’ll see.”

Phil closes his eyes. Nods again.

“Okay,” he says. “Please be safe.”

It’s as close to a blessing as he’s going to get, as close to an understanding as they will reach, and somehow, it sounds like more of an apology than anything else Phil has said. And if, for his own peace of mind, Wilbur has to pretend that he doesn’t hear how wrecked Phil sounds, how he seems to have aged another five years in the past five minutes, well.

“I’ll try,” he says, and he’s not sure whether he means it or not, and he thinks that if he stays here any longer, in this small kitchen with eggs on the stove and his father standing in front of him like he’s pronouncing a death sentence and his brother glaring balefully from one side, he will lose his resolve.

He’s angry, but he doesn’t want to hurt them. Not really. That compulsion is gone, it seems, washed away in the peace of the void, and only time will tell if it will return, now that he’s been ripped back into existence.

But in the end, hurting them is the thing he knows how to do best.

So he leaves. Nods once, sharply, turns on his heel, and walks toward the front door, grabbing his coat as he goes. It’s not in the same spot he left it in last night, is draped near the crackling fire, and there’s only two people who could have placed it there and Phil wasn’t there by the time he fell asleep, he knows, and his mind recalls the sensation of a blanket being draped over him. That is enough to get him to stop, to pause.

But not to stay.

The sunlight is cold, but he barely feels it at all.

----------

He manages to make it out of the tundra before he breaks down.

He wasn’t expecting it, even though he probably should have been, but it doesn’t matter either way, because he blinks and he’s on the ground, hands braced against wet grass, heaving for breath because this is so fucking fucked up—

It was a mistake. Going to Technoblade was a mistake, because now he and Phil both know that he’s back and he just walked out on them and he’s so angry at them for so many things but now they’re probably angry right back and when the fuck did his family get so fucking broken? And now he’s here, in the forest again, and he’s all on his own

(but he’s not on his own and there are so many eyes watching him)

(he is on his own because there’s no one to stand with him, no one brave enough, no one who truly sees)

(he is on his own because he’s pushed everyone else away and even at his lowest point there was a voice in the back of his mind screaming for him to stop to walk away to take a step back and gain some fucking perspective but there’s no one there for him and it’s all his fault)

(he is on his own even though Tommy is still there, despite everything, because even Tommy is wary of him now and that same voice tells him that he deserves it even as he denies it all and decries his little brother for a traitor)

(but he’s not on his own)

and his empty stomach is rolling and he can’t fucking manage to get a good breath in, and this might be how he dies again, and he doesn’t think he would mind all that much if it was because he still doesn’t want to be here, with all the cares and all the worries and all the responsibilities piling up on his back once again, and who the fuck thought this was a good idea? Who the absolute, ever-loving fuck took a look at what he did last time, took a look at how he cracked under the strain and blew up a city, and thought that it was a good idea to bring him back into the world?

In fairytales, when monsters die, no one brings them back. The victory is celebrated and the villain forgotten and their grave spat on. Wilbur never got a grave, but the principle should be the same.

He still can’t breathe properly. He’s gasping for air, but he can barely hear himself over the pounding of his heart in his ears. He might die here. He might die here, and he’d be mostly fine with that, if it weren’t for—

Tommy.

It’s probably Tommy’s fault that he’s here. Probably Tommy who—got Dream to resurrect him, and he really does need the details about that. But he still wants to see him, still wants to see his brother, and the original plan holds true. Find Tommy, then kill Dream, and maybe then he can think about his options. He can’t allow himself to die here, even if he feels like he’s going to, like his ribs are going to crack apart and his brain pound right out of his skull.

(and even besides all of that, what would Tommy think if he saw the message on his communicator, saw WilburSoot died without any context at all, without knowing that he was back in the first place?)

It’s easier when there’s someone there to help him. But he has no one, so he regulates his breathing himself, little by little, his progress set back every time a new wave of panic and desperation crests over him and makes him choke on air. But he does it. It’s not pretty, but he does it, and after some time, he’s kneeling in the grass, exhausted and wrung out and still here, for better or for worse.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!” Each one increases in volume, and by the last one, he’s shouting. No one answers. He thinks he startles a few birds.

And then the forest is silent. He curls his fists into the grass, tearing up a few blades.

To the side, there is a flash of blue.

The hair on the back of his neck stands up.

(there’s something he’s forgetting)

“Who’s there?” he calls, his voice rough and hoarse. “You’ve been following me, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Come out where I can see you!”

He gets no response, but he can’t say that he was expecting one. He clambers to his feet, sighing sharply through his nose.

(there’s something he’s forgetting something was it something he said to Tommy what was it)

“Last warning,” he says. “Come out. Or I’ll make you.”

It’s an empty threat, said with more confidence than he feels. But he has to be right about this, has to be, or else he’s been hallucinating, has been letting his paranoia get the best of him already, again, and if that’s going to be the case, maybe Tommy really would be better off without him there, because he refuses to go down that same road now that he knows where it leads.

(even though part of him still yearns for it, yearns to go to hell and take everything with him)

(it was something he said to Tommy, in that moment when the veil between worlds was thin and he could see his brother there, plain as day, sitting on that bench with Tubbo at his side, and Tommy said Dream could bring him back and he said no fucking thank you and also that)

“Aw, you been pining for me, Wilbur?” someone says, and it all falls into place.

(he wasn’t alone. he wasn’t alone in the void. as much as he might have liked to be, as much as he liked to pretend otherwise. he wasn’t alone. not then, and not)

He pivots, and uses the momentum to send his fist right into Schlatt’s stupid, smug face.

And it passes right though him. It’s a strange sensation, one that sends sparks of electricity up his arm and feels a bit like dozens of tiny firecrackers are going off. For a split second, there is a bit of resistance, and then a give that sends him stumbling forward, off balance.

“Did that make you feel better?” Schlatt asks.

“Fuck you,” he snaps, stepping back. “What the fuck are you—what are you wearing?”

Wilbur doesn’t think he’s ever seen Schlatt wear anything but his signature suit and tie. Not since they were young, anyway, young and stupid and ready to take on the world,

(for each other, and where did that fall through?)

so painfully ignorant of everything to come. But the Schlatt in front of him is not the Schlatt he knows, not quite, is off in so many subtle ways and one big one. His pallor is grey, his horns chipped and cracked, his hair mussed and disarrayed, but all of that is overshadowed by the oversized blue sweater, a horrible parody of Ghostbur’s yellow one, and honestly, Wilbur wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly what it’s meant to be.

“What, you don’t like it?” Schlatt smiles, more a baring of teeth than anything else, and—his teeth didn’t use to be so pointy, right? “I think it’s a fashion statement. All the rage with ghosts these days.” He steps back, and the movement is wrong; it’s so obvious that his feet have no real traction on the ground, that he’s moving in the same way that Wilbur remembers Ghostbur doing, willing himself into the new space rather than working dead muscles.

(funny, though, that Schlatt would at least pretend to walk, would at least pretend at some semblance of normalcy. Ghostbur almost never did, was always content to float around and disregard the unease he caused, to hand out blue and avoid any confrontation that might make him uncomfortable. but then, Ghostbur was completely happy to be the way that he was)

“You’re an arsehole,” Wilbur grits out. “The fuck are you doing here?”

And just like that, the pretense is gone. Schlatt rises into the air, tilting forward, though he keeps his eyes level with Wilbur’s, scowling ferociously. He’s a bit transparent around the edges, Wilbur notes absently, a bit fuzzy, like he’s dissolving into the air bit by bit.

“You think I want to be?” Schlatt says. “You think I wanna be here, Wilbur, really? I had all the booze I could possibly want and none of the pitfalls, and now I’m here, in this shitty world with all the shitty people I never wanted to see again, and I can’t even fucking touch anything!”

His hand lashes out, and Wilbur flinches on instinct, but it passes through his shoulder harmlessly. There is the strange electric sensation again, but other than that, nothing.

“You think this is what I want?” he continues. “I’m fucking dead and I want to stay that way. None of this haunting bullshit. My business here is fucking finished. Over. Done. I don’t want to be here.” He pauses, and it’s for effect, because he doesn’t need to breathe, he’s just a dramatic arsehole. “And yet, whatever asshole dragged you back down here caught me too. I’m just as thrilled about it as you are, but I can’t figure out how to get back. So that’s a fucking, I don’t know. Fucking karma, maybe. How’ve you been?”

Wilbur stares at him for a moment. He starts laughing before he can stop himself, hysterical gusts, torn from him like someone is reaching into his chest and squeezing his lungs out, and he doubles over, bracing himself against his knees.

“Oh my god,” he eventually manages. “I don’t wanna fucking be here either. This is so fucked.”

Schlatt is silent for a moment, and the only sound is the last of Wilbur’s laughter, dying down into desperate chuckles. It’s not funny, not funny at all, but it’s either laugh or have another breakdown, and he’s filled his break down quota for the hour.

“I figured,” Schlatt says, calmer now, quieter. He drifts back down so his feet at least appear to be touching the ground. “I figured, I knew you didn’t want to—fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair and sighs, and once again, Wilbur is struck by the action. It’s for effect, or perhaps it’s just habit, but either way, the dead don’t need to breathe. Can’t, really, though they can go through the motions if they put the effort in.

“You’re the worst and I hate you,” he says, and there is absolutely no heat in it at all. “Why are you here?”

Schlatt looks at him incredulously. “I just said—”

“No, I mean here.” He gestures. “With me. Unless you have to be, or something like that.”

“Nah, I can walk away from you,” Schlatt says wryly. “Believe me, that’s the first thing I tried. But where the fuck else do you think I’m gonna go, Wilbur? You think I’ve got anybody waiting for me with open arms? That’s ridiculous.” He pauses. “Also, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who can see me. I did a little tap dance routine for Technoblade earlier and got absolutely nothing, so.”

“What?”

“No, yeah, see? I can go invisible, like this, and hide from you,” Schlatt says, completely ignoring what his question was actually about, the bastard. And then, he vanishes, like he was never—wait. No, he’s still there, but Wilbur can only tell if he’s not looking directly at him. And even then, it’s just a faint shimmering, and an almost transparent splash of the color blue. “I can tell I’m invisible when I do that. But when I do this—” He reappears, his arms crossed— “no one else can see me. Except you, apparently. Make my fucking day, why don’t you.”

“Gladly,” he replies automatically. “Wait, why is that even a thing?”

“You’re asking me?” Schlatt demands. “How am I supposed to know? You’re the one who was a ghost for months, you should know how this works!”

“I really don’t,” he says. “And besides, Ghostbur wasn’t actually me. Just a fragment. A shadow.”

“Real poetic,” Schlatt mutters, and, well. Wilbur doesn’t have much to say to that.

They stand there in silence for a moment. Or rather, Wilbur stands, and Schlatt drifts about half an inch off the ground, the soles of his shoes brushing the grass. He briefly considers whether attempting to punch him in the face again would be worth it or not, but dismisses the idea. Dismisses it a lot more easily than he should, actually.

“I feel like I’m not as angry with you as I definitely should be,” he says.

“Well, I’m fucking pissed,” Schlatt says, and then, after a moment, adds, “Not so much at you, though. I mean, I am. But not more than I am at the general everything. Do you remember much of the—the you know?”

(darkness all around and a howling emptiness but so much better than the world so much more peaceful and after a while the void felt like an embrace, felt like coming home)

(Schlatt was loud and irritating and the clink of his whiskey glasses made him want to kill him all over again but it was a break from the monotony and it was nice, sometimes, to have someone to talk to, someone who understood if only a little, someone with whom he didn’t have to hide his shattered edges in favor of painting a prettier picture)

(empty and not and there is no death for the already-dead so the only thing to do is come to an understanding)

doesn’t, not really, only recalls a general sense of peace, the rest that he so craved, attained at least. And he knows that Schlatt was there, too, knows it, but while he remembers talking to Tommy, that one time, he can’t remember if he ever actually spoke to Schlatt. Evidence is pointing toward the affirmative, he thinks.

“Not much,” he says. “Do you?”

“I remember it was better than here,” Schlatt says. He kicks at the ground, and scowls when his foot won’t make contact with anything substantial. “I had all the booze I could’ve wanted. Sure, none of it was real, but that didn’t matter much. I’d kill to have a drink right now. Literally, I would murder someone.”

“Good luck with that,” he says.

“Shut the fuck your mouth.”

“I’m planning on seeing Dream,” he says, ignoring that. “After I find Tommy, anyway. I’ll make him tell me what he did to bring me back. And you, too, I suppose, assuming it was the same thing. Why are you a ghost when I’m not?”

“You keep asking me these questions like you expect me to know the answers,” Schlatt says. He levels his glare at him, but it doesn’t look very angry. Just tired. Wilbur knows the feeling. “Ask him to send me back, how about? I don’t want to fucking be here.”

His eyes slip shut. “Neither do I,” he says, and it’s more of a confession than it has any right to be. His tone matches Schlatt’s: tired, exhausted, weary, wrung out, sick of everything.

When he opens his eyes, Schlatt is gone. There is no sign of blue, no shimmer in the air. He’s really gone, then, but he assumes he’ll be back. For better or for worse.

He sighs, gathers himself, and resumes his march through the forest, looking for Tommy.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #jschlatt #alivebur #glatt #/rp #cat writes fic #long post

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ezrasarm · 4 years

Text

take what’s broken, make it whole

[ day 4 | angstageddon masterlist ]

pairing: Marcus Pike x reader

summary: Love. It’s messy and confusing. It’s painful yet thrilling. It’s also absolutely terrifying. But maybe what you need is someone to brave your fears with you.

warnings: mild angst, hurt/comfort, fear of commitment/relationships

"a/n”: THIS WAS WRITTEN BY THE WICKEDLY TALENTED @chaotic-noceur!!! I am posting it here with permission from the original author. Please go check out her posts and give them some love!

Actual a/n: this piece hits very close to home for all 3 of us so we hope it could bring you the same sort of comfort that it did us 💕💕- @chaotic-noceur

credits: shout out to my loves @din-damn-djarin and @ezrasarm for beta reading and being absolute sweethearts about me being a disaster! very loose references to Come Home With Me from Hadestown. - @chaotic-noceur

Gif by @pedropascalito

The whispers of Special Agent Marcus Pike’s failed love affairs had spread like wildfire as soon as his transfer had been confirmed. Men and women alike were eager to meet the broken man who had fallen too hard, too fast. Instead, they were met with gentle smiles and a loving heart.

If the rumours were true, they did nothing to explain the hidden glimmer of hope in his eyes. If the office gossip held any weight, it did nothing to explain the deep-seated warmth in his aura. If the hearsay was anything more than it claimed to be, it did everything to explain the masked sadness that threatened his every move.

He wasn’t like any man you’ve met. You watched him with quiet curiosity.

Several weeks later, you had found yourself partnered with the office enigma. Within a month, the pair of you had fallen into a comfortable routine of early morning coffee trips and late-night takeout meals.

There was something about him that made you want to let down your guard, to unveil the parts of you that were fractured and broken. But he didn’t need to know of the pieces of you that weren’t quite whole.

So you lie.

You lie when he asks the difficult questions. You lie when he nudges at the splintered fragments. You lie as you have been trained to do all those years ago.

Your little traditions, if you could even call them that, had slowly wound their way into becoming an integral part of your day. You hadn’t even realised just how habitual they had become until he’d left for an undercover mission.

In the early days of his departure, you’d catch yourself flicking through delivery menus before remembering that your partner wasn’t there. You’d find yourself instinctively making the turn to his apartment on your way to work. You’d send him messages of things he’d find funny only to be met with a mocking grey tick.

You missed him. And you couldn’t explain why.

●●●●

This wasn’t his first undercover mission, but this one felt different… and he couldn’t explain why.

As the mission progressed, the desire to call you and talk to you about everything and nothing grew with every passing day. He’d catch himself longing for your occasional Starbucks trips where you’d conspire about the poorly spelt names on your cups. He’d find himself missing the way you’d laugh at all his jokes, no matter how bad. He saw your face in the crowd of strangers even though he knew you weren’t there.

He missed you. And he couldn’t explain why.

When he’s reunited with you once again, he thinks he’s figured it out. The more time the two of you spend together, the more he's convinced that there's something between the two of you. He’s hesitant to put a label on it, after everything he’s been through. Still, he knows it isn’t nothing. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before and he wants to pursue it. But he needs his instincts to be right this time. He’s not ready to face the alternative.

So, he pushes his feelings away. He shoves them into the darkest corners of his mind where its destructive claws can shred them like they had his dreams.

Months go by before thoughts of his feelings for you resurface. He catches you doodling on a napkin with the straw from your drink and he can’t help but fall. Deep down, he knows that it’s a bad idea, but there’s an affectionate lilt to your smile that makes his heart falter and he knows he’s in trouble.

You’re stowing pieces of evidence into their respective locations when he’s overcome with an overwhelming urge to tell you how he feels. He isn’t sure if it's the lack of sleep or the residual successful-arrest adrenaline that makes him throw caution to the wind, but he pops the question before his sudden spur of confidence leaves him. Your shoulders tense as you turn to look at him, eyebrows raised in shock.

“I-what?” you stammered, uncertain if you’d misheard him.

“I asked if you’d like to get dinner sometime?” He feels his heart hammering against his chest. “If you don’t want to, it’s cool, we’re cool.” He raises his arms in defence. “But what we have-” he takes a step closer as he gestures to the space between you, “this feels...different.” He lets his arms fall and he crosses his fingers behind his back.

He doesn’t consider himself a religious man. But in the here and now, he’s praying to anything out there listening that the answer he gets is a yes.

Your breath hitches at his sudden outburst. The wishful twinge in his voice and hopeful glimmer in his eyes makes your heart clench in your chest. It baffles you that a man with his experience was still so willing to wear his heart on his sleeve. You almost admire that about him. Almost.

“That’s- I-” you clear your throat awkwardly as you search for the right words. “I’m flattered Marcus, but I’m not really looking for anything right now.” Your voice grows quieter with each word, as though the strength of your voice would lessen the force of your words.

You watch in silent agony as the corners of his eyes dip downwards at the rejection. The way he forces a smile to hide the wave of disappointment that crashes into him makes your stomach churn. It takes all your self-control not to reach out for him, to take back your words and spare him the pain. But you can’t do that to him. You can’t give him false hope for a future you don’t want.

For as long as you’ve known him, he’s never shied away from questions about his past. He’d told you about his failed marriage, the broken engagement and everything in between. He’d told you about the life he had wanted and the future he’d pictured. It was the fairytale life that every child dreamt of having.

Every child except you.

You don’t know what exactly it is that you want, but you know one thing. Marriage? Starting a family? That's not you. It never has been and it never will be. The future that Marcus so desperately wants, the happily-ever-after that he’s risked so much for… it’s never going to be something you can give him.

So you push him away. You push him away even when every fibre of your body screams for you to pull him close, to take the pain away. You push him away because he deserves someone who can make all his dreams come true. Someone who isn’t broken like you...

“I’m sorry. You’re a great guy Marcus and I’m sure-” You take a hesitant step towards him but stop in your tracks when he withdraws from you.

“No, no. Don’t be. It’s fine. Like I said, we’re cool. I- I understand.” And he does. He understands perfectly well. He understands that sometimes he comes off a little too strong, but it’s only because he wants to believe in true love. He understands that it’s wishful to think that he deserves another chance at love, that there is such a thing as soulmates. He understands that no matter how hard he tries, he never seems to be good enough.

In the months that follow his initial confession, his affections for you only seem to grow despite his best efforts. He knows that continuing down this path would only lead to more hurt. But in the moments when he thinks no one is looking, he allows himself to fall a little harder.

Why? He does not know. But he knows the following are true: you’re the person he wants to go on aimless adventures with because it isn’t about the destination but the journey. You’re the person whom he wants to be held by when the days are long and the night is dark. You’re the person that he wants to be able to call home. You’re the only person that’s ever made him feel so alive.

Little did he know, you felt the same way too.

You’re both sharing a box of ‘case-closed pizza’ while he tells you about this young artist he’d discovered online. There’s a softness in your eyes that sparks a fire in his gut. Something nags at him to ask you just one more time. He pushes the thought away. He knows it’s a stupid idea. But then you’re laughing at something he says and the question leaves his mouth before his brain can stop it.

“Give me a chance,” he says. “Please? Just one date.” You blink at him a few times, dumbfounded. He’s preparing an apology when you speak up.

“Marcus-” he hates the way you say his name like it’s a melody, “listen, I- I don’t-” you huff in frustration. You contemplate your options in your mind. He deserves to know the truth. You want him to know the truth. You just didn’t think it’d be this hard to say out loud.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I asked…” The defeat in his voice makes your stomach turn.

“It’s not you. I just- Well, okay it’s kind of you but it's mostly me.” You falter. “It’s definitely me.” You force yourself to look into his eyes before declaring what you’ve been afraid to say.

“The life that you picture in your future? The one where you’re happily married, maybe a couple of kids who drive you insane but-” you exhale sharply, masking your scoff, “you wouldn’t have it any other way because the love of your life is there with you? That’s not something I-” He’s looking at you with so much love and you have no idea what to do with it. It takes everything in you to not look away.

“That’s not something I want, ever. I don’t see myself getting married, or having kids, or -” you purse your lips as the thought occurs to you, “or loving someone so much that even when they break my heart, I want to hold them close in my arms so they can never leave.” Tears prick at your eyes and your voice falls to a whisper when you say, “I don’t know how to love and be loved back and the thought of it, I-” you gaze falls onto the half-empty box on the table. You can’t look him in the eyes when you admit it out loud for the first time, can’t look him in the eyes as you admit it to yourself.

“I’m terrified, Marcus.”

A lone tear rolls down your cheek and he brings a shaky hand up to wipe it away gently. He almost laughs at the irony. The man who loved too much is in love with one who loved too little. There’s a pain in his chest that feels almost like someone had driven a knife through his heart and twisted.

“I’m scared too,” his voice is soft as he speaks, as if he’s afraid that you’ll shatter at the sound. “I’ve let my heart be beaten, bruised and broken more times than I care to admit.” He sighs as he takes his hand in yours. “That life you think I picture? Maybe that’s what I wanted once but that's not who I am anymore.” He shakes his head gently as he tugs at your hand, drawing your gaze up to meet his. “After Teresa, I swore I’d never let anyone in again. I didn’t think I would survive the pain, but then you walked into my life and,” he gives you a crooked smile as he whispers, “something about you made me want to love again. So, if you’ll have me,” he brings his other hand up to cup your cheek, “it’d be an honour to have my heart broken by you.”

Tears are streaming openly down your face at his declaration. It never occurred to you that he was afraid too. He’d seemed so.. carefree. Despite all the heartbreak, he’d found the courage to put himself out there one more time, to let himself love one more time. It occurs to you then that maybe what you admire about him most wasn’t his ability to make you laugh when you felt like crying. Or the way he always knew when you needed a hug. It was that he made you want to look fear in the eye and say ‘not anymore’.

Slowly, you let your head fall into a nod. “I promise to be gentle.” He chuckles softly and he pulls you into his chest. You melt into his embrace and relish in his warmth. You feel a hopeful smile tug at the corner of your lip and you bury further into him.

Maybe part of loving means being afraid, together.

[ angstageddon masterlist | chaotic-noceur’s masterlist ]

——angstageddon tag list

@din-damn-djarin @chaotic-noceur @chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @hillarymurray4 @wille-zarr @oloreaa @this-cat-is-dea @marydjarin @roxypeanut @cryptkeepersoul @mrschiltoncat @agirllovespasta @wickedfrsgrl @dindisneydjarin @opheliaelysia @aeryntheofficial @adikaofmandalore @goldafterglow @yespolkadotkitty @chibi-liz05 @scarlettvonsass @rpcvliz @cinewhore @basura2319 @theravenreads @mxndoscyarika @jaime1110 @f0rever15elf @pancakepike @phoenixhalliwell @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #the mentalist #angstageddon #angst week

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steve0discusses · 4 years

Text

Yugioh S4 Ep 25: Oh Hai Mai

Heyyy we’re back. Thank for bearing with me, it’s been kind of chaos over here. Everything from a pandemic (we are very sloooowly reopening over here but I’ve been quarantined so long I can french braid my damn leg hair.) to important political protests, to getting an evacuation order because an arsonist burned down 90 acres in the heat of summer (luckily we’re all fine), to a vole that ate everything in my pandemic self-care garden so I lost my entire mind and waged war and dug so many holes and put out 17 mouse traps and set off so many critter bombs under the ground trying to kill the little bastard like it was Caddyshack (It’s still alive, ps, I lost that war). These last 3 months have been the longest decades of my life. The only month longer was the one where I’m pretty sure I had mono and it made me positive that my basement was haunted.

Man, bring back my haunted basement, Sorry if this comes through in my writing, I tried but, I can’t edit it out. You get FML-Rachel today.

Lets get back to a good, mindless distraction, lets turn on Yugioh.

BUT------->it just so happens that this episode of Yugioh has cop stuff in it, I’m just going to be blunt. We’re going into Valon’s backstory, he’s very much a victim of problems within the bizarre Yugioh legal system, and much like a Gotham supervillain, he is a symptom of the problem more than the cause.

I’m not going to ignore that, but in case you are overwhelmed about that right now, if you want to like...save this for later--I have another FMA recap coming out soon that I wrote in a simpler time before....the corona freakin ruined us all.

Last we left off, we were on the heels of Joey Wheeler, who decided to book it down the street because he wants to murder the hell out of Valon.

Youknow...Joey is one hell of a protagonist. He just does...so MANY antagonistic things.

Joey has decided that although the world is ending, and everyone left alive will be absorbed into the Great Leviathon’s big yummy tummy, which can only be prevented by three people, of which he is one of--he’s going to go sprint in completely the other direction.

We even managed to get Kaiba on board. We were ready. We were done, but then Joey had to lose his freakin mind because that’s just what Joey Wheeler does sometimes.

Normally heroes avoid the call to duty because of a severe lack of self confidence, but this is Joey, and he’s going to avoid the call to duty because of too much self confidence.

And so Joey and his Chaperone turn a corner and walk into this random orc who’s just casually living his best life and touring SF.

One of my worst fears walking through SF, tbh. Running into high school people. Not so much the orcs.

Yo, I wonder what the bushman was doing through all of this? So IRL, we have this guy who just...hides in a bush and jump-scares tourists. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be in a bush and then just...all these orcs show up and you’re all.

...oh no, now I’m the fool...

I just want to know if bushman made it, or if he’s in a paper card that’s just a picture of foliage.

(read more under the cut)

Anyway, Joey was already in the process of running, so they just turned around on this street of...so much parking.

Like y’all there is SO MUCH PARKING this episode. I was trying to pay attention to anything else, but like...do you see this!? It takes nearly half an hour usually to get a spot but this--this right here?

And the crazy thing is, recently my bro had to go pick up some old guy from a cruise that...got quarantined...and so bro had to go the Pier and like--this is what the city looked like. This is a pandemic, it’s just lots of parking, so I want to criticize Yugioh, and I normally would, but I can’t. I’ve seen the receipts. They called it. This is what the endtimes look like and it’s so much parking.

Also, they were too lazy to draw cars but damn, they called it.

So, left with no other option, Joey decides to...be Joey, and punches a huge orc covered in armor.

So Valon’s here, because apparently SF has just...no one left alive in it except for these few kids and that one Uber Eats driver. I imagine it’s a lot easier to find Joey if you just follow the only one screaming in Japanese in a Brooklyn accent at the top of his lungs.

And Valon decides that this one way street isn’t good enough, and that they must duel somewhere else.

I assumed it would be a tall structure, but considering Kaiba just blew up the tallest structures in the Financial District...I was like...what else is tall? And bear in mind, I’m a mess, so I was like...OMG I wish it were Macy’s!!!

Now I hear you saying that’s weird, and we shouldn’t have a very fancy Macy’s in 2020, and you’re correct. but we still have one, and the top floor is just...a massive Cheesecake factory, and I can’t think of anything more 00′s than a Yugioh duel on top of that specific Cheesecake Factory.

And I’ve never really thought before about where the best Yugioh duel would be, and it’s there. It’s at the high rise Cheesecake. Listen Yugioh, if you need an insider to choose locations for your Netflix remake of S4--call me.

So anyways, instead of doing the right thing and going to the Cheesecake Factory on top of Macy’s like any other self respecting 00′s teenager, Valon and Joey are going to drive through the most boring parts of town.

They had an opportunity to go chase eachother through any tourist attraction, Lombard street, Ghirardelli Square, the Palace of Fine Arts, China town, reuse some assets and drive through Japan town, that fountain that looks like Yoda--but no...they decided to drive through literal trash.

Just...a missed opportunity, and it should have been a Cheesecake Factory.

Also, I totally and fully acknowledge that a strange nostalgic affection for the Cheesecake Factory is a weird Millennial thing (much like our weird encyclopedic knowledge of Sailor Moon) but listen. You have your thing, too. You go do you, I’m gonna soak my sorrows in a bowl of Chinese chicken salad so wide, it’ll last me 3 days.

Anyways, Joey’s gonna steal that guy’s bike.

Yugioh just predicting the future in 2003. We actually have a HUGE problem right now with vehicle theft in the city to an almost comedic degree, which is partly why the parking situation has gotten so incredibly dire. It’s kind of incredible that this guy left his bike out because after about 1 day in the city you learn pretty fast that you need to be constantly checking on your street parked vehicle--I mean, that guy was just asking for it, honestly. If Joey hadn’t taken it, some other guy would have absolutely taken it, (even that orc would’ve taken it, the city has no consideration for cars.)

Sorry --one sec-- that was an earthquake just now. As I’m typing this. Just a little guy. Just a little treat for me...

...but still like...c’mon. I’m also getting this weird issue where Tumblr doesn’t save my drafts so like...this is like the 3rd time I’ve had to write this like...I just want to make a Yugioh post for my tiny funtime tv blog, Universe. Don’t @ me right now, Universe.

SO MUCH FREAKIN PARKING.

...is it the space between two piers? What is this? We don’t have rivers in SF, it is a peninsula covered in very steep hills. Like very VERY steep hills. All water just rolls into the ocean and there’s a couple of lake thingies but...no rivers that I know of (And like maybe this is a thing, and I just haven’t seen it? Learn something new every day.)

*loud, audible sigh* home. Where we belong. At the warehousssssssse.

Back at the RV base, Duke Devlin is still babysitting. Maybe this is to make up for the two seasons he spent trying to date a girl Rebecca’s age, that they felt like going out of their way to show that he has indeed no longer horny now. Got to hand it to them, that’s a lot of character development right there. Although at the same time, it has made Duke Devlin a very non-character.

But imagine how insanely complicated would it have been if Duke got involved in that bizarre love-square that is Yugi, Tea, and the Ghost that killed Yugi by accident.

PS that’s either a freeway onramp (which is too far South from where they were, I think) or it sure does look like old Embarcadero behind them. Youknow, that lifted street from the 80′s that fell down in Loma Prieta and was never rebuilt? I just freakin love that it’s still here in 2003. This bizarre Yugioh alternate California.

Anyway, because this is alternate California, Seto set a massive fire and the entire city didn’t immediately go up in flames. Apparently they just kinda ran away from the explosion and damage before anyone noticed.

Probably because most people on Earth are dead anyway, so what more can these two actually do?

And so Yami ends up getting lectured by the wife.

And justifiably, the wife seems to have absolutely no confidence that Yami will be able to do a damn thing right.

Wifes all around this episode.

Speaking of,

At this point, Arthur Hawkins senses that Yami’s nearby, so he opens the door just to freakin dump some guilt on him.

...Rebecca seems to be a character that’s mostly there to recap the lore and also to dump on Yami. I don’t mind that. Yami needs to get dunked more often, and I’m saying that in S4, where the entire season’s tagline is “how many times can we dunk on Yami?”

So lets check on Yugi, how’s that kid doing? It’s been quite a number of episodes since we last saw him.

Yep, still hanging out in the Han Solo cosplay room.

And then, because I guess everyone is just hanging out in the same 4 blocks, Mai and Tristan have a heart-to-heart.

In the show, this conversation was Mai (who is now a serial killer) saying “Oh hey, Tristan, where’s Joey?” and Tristan saying “It’s ALL YOUR FAULT he wants to kill Valon--thanks a lot, Mai! GODS!” all indignant like.

Not how you would ordinarily talk to a serial killer, just saying. No one from the Yugi crew fears this woman...at all...and she has killed over 20 people in front of them and is trying very hard to kill Joey Wheeler all the time.

Like what would it actually take for them to fear this woman? They can’t, right?

Meanwhile, Valon is trying to explain to Joey that his obsession with Mai is in fact damaging any relationship they could have had.

So then when you’re like OK...this is actually very valid points on Valon’s part, and Joey really does need to step back and let people make their mistakes considering Joey was barely a part of her life to begin with. But then, Valon just turns a 180 and...it becomes a catty love triangle where only one person in the triangle even feels romantic emotions.

I just...so Valon is doing this fight because he thinks Mai is in love with Joey.

This whole time I was like “well maybe it’s more that Valon is trying to defend Mai’s right to make her own choices” but no...he just straight up thinks Mai is in love with Joey. And, in fighting Joey, Valon himself is ignoring Mai’s life choices

Just a whole lot of misunderstanding that would have been fixed with better ways than dueling with cards. At least that one guy in S2 who tried to marry Mai actually dueled HER instead of some random guy.

It just really feels like these boys are having a pissing contest and Mai was never let in on the deets that this was even happening.

Mai needs to hang out with older men. Set her up with Roland, this is ridiculous.

Back at the RV, which got very, very big in this shot, Seto has an odd convo with Mokuba about how they are probably not going to get Kaiba Corp back. And then no one really argued with him about that.

He’s taking it really well. Maybe because this isn’t even the first time or the second time or even really the third time Seto’s lost everything. Kid’s really freakin great at failure. At least this time Mokuba isn’t currently abducted, which is really good improvement for these two.

Outside the RV, Tristan has decided to...give up as well, just right here, in the middle of traffic. Then he gets Orc’d...these orcs are kind of like Slenderman, in that they kinda...show up...but then that’s all they do because the designers didn’t actually want to animate anything.

And then this happens.

God bless this story boarder for this random series of events presented in just this way.

Also here’s yet another example where Tea just has...no fear. She’s actually only out here because she was like “that’s it, we’re getting another driver” and was going to chew out Duke Devlin. The Orc being in the middle of the road was not the reason she walked out here.

Anyways, Yami killed it because everyone here can just throw cards forever, these things are not threatening.

The subplot of everyone refusing to drive with Duke Devlin after he busted his car in Death Valley is still ongoing, and it’s still low key hilarious that no one will outright say “Duke, your driving is just so bad” and instead, Duke just has to sit there and watch Joey STEAL A MOTORCYCLE just so he won’t have to drive shotgun with Duke Devlin.

Rebecca, our plot-dump device, then informs us that Valon has Special Rules.

Because Valon, if you’ve forgotten, has a card that allows him to physically punch his opponent in the face.

They should have invented that card a long time ago TBH.

SO, lets get into Valons tragic backstory. First off, go turn on your Les Mis Soundtrack, because this is some old school cop stuff.

So apparently Valon, as a child just...stayed in the system forever. We don’t know why yet, but lets just assume that it’s tragic and heavy handed. If he steals a loaf of bread and ends up in 12 Juvies (which is a line from the show and not an exaggeration--12 Juvies) then I will expect him to be singing by the end of this and I will be very disappointed if he does not.

Anyways, he was such an asshole, that he caught the attention of some very illegal rich bastard who was trying to turn prisoners into...card murders. (it was Dartz.) because apparently...Dartz also funds prisons and that is...that is some deep lore.

And so probably about the same time that Yugi was Dueling to the death on Pegasus’ Island, and about the same time that Marik was hanging out in the ocean next to Pegasus’ Island with a pair of binoculars, and about the same time that Noah was underneath Pegasus’ Island just watching Pegasus steal KaibaCorp, Dartz decided to make his OWN murder island--because I guess he got jealous.

Anyway, Valon won, and didn’t even need to set anyone on fire.

Those little green things there--those are all souls of prison inmates.

YUGIOH.

Millennials got DARK, OK? Freakin...we had a show for 9 year olds that went deep into the school-to-prison pipeline and didn’t even try to hide it under any layers of symbolism. Like Hunger Games at least had two people survive.

This was a show to sell PAPER CARDS.

+++++++++++THIS IS A RANT WHERE I WENT OFF ABOUT PRISON TALK IN KID’S SHOWS FEEL FREE TO SKIP++++++++++++++++++++

Now, there’s a lot of good conversation going on right now about errors in the modern justice system on not just a local scale, but on a global scale, especially regarding racial profiling and criminalization of poor, sick, and young, and we better keep pushing it. But it’s surprising when people pretend like this hasn’t been talked about for a long time. Because...we’ve been talking about it in kids and YA shows for a long time. This is not something that just popped up in 2020.

Like millennials didn’t invent this obsession with dark and gritty stories with uncomfortable themes. It’s been around for thousands of years, but back in the 90′s and 00′s, a lot of shows for YA and younger enjoyed talking about the problems with prisons and abuse of power with our justice systems--a lot. Batman, X-men, Death Note, so so many, hell, even the OC.

And like, don’t get me wrong, we still have these shows running around, but I’ve been there’s been a trend of stories (not saying names) where just...nothing bad happens. And, that’s kind of sad because...they CAN have small elements that are more progressive in them, but only brought forth with a very risk-free cotton candy fluffy coating to make the majority of the population happy.

I could go long about this, and I’m getting very cryptic. If a kid escapes to more colorful worlds where nothing bad ever happens, that’s OK--sometimes you need that, but when nothing bad ever happens surrounding certain experiences where bad things normally happen--the meaning of the story changes because it isn’t a real experience anymore.

Like I don’t want to tangent too much, and I just had to delete a lot of examples, but I know a lot of people want to write stories about misrepresented minorities and about real deal serious situations and are just so afraid of misrepresentation that they go in completely the wrong direction by not putting in anything uncomfortable at all. I think it’s important to look at the work and ask yourself is this about the minority the work should be about--or is this work about patting the majority of the population on the back and saying neat, we’ve achieved utopia without having to even do anything?

...anyway, obvi I’m ranting, but I feel like we’re taking a step backwards when it comes to the importance of kids programming and that we do need to talk to kids about prison again. This is a show about paper cards, and they don’t do a great job at talking about...the reality of prison, this was exaggerated with genre stereotypes, but at least they didn’t cover it with rainbows and unicorns, because this isn’t about how great Joey and the “normal” people are at saving Valon, this is about how society screwed Valon beyond repair, and I am 99% certain we will see this guy’s soul stuffed in a brick above Dartz’ snake fireplace.

Like, yeah he duels to the death on an island, but that’s imagery that is very close to real life prison issues. We don’t talk to kids a lot about how a lot of inmates get enlisted into the military during war times (and quite literally...duel to their death...on islands). We don’t talk about how we use inmates to betray eachother for a chance at maybe getting amnesty. We don’t talk about how a lot of the victims of this system are essentially children, and have been caught in a system of endless prison for what will probably be the rest of their lives. We don’t talk about how we’re systematically turning kids into criminals so much in kid’s shows of late...and Freakin Yugioh just did in a filler season.

....................I think our standard for modern kids programming to talk about serious issues is way too low if Yugioh just threw this out there in a filler season, is all I’m saying.

++++++++++++++++++END OF PRISON RANT++++++++++++++++++++++

So, Valon is free but...is he?

Not really, he’s just gone from one jailer to another, but at least this time he gets his own room. Don’t blame him for latching onto Dartz’ dream to end the world, because the world for him has been one behind bars. He doesn’t know it. Never been there.

It’s just interesting juxtaposed to Joey because Joey had some sort of Season Zero history with a gang and I haven’t watched that episode yet.

So that’s it for now, again, I’m very slooow lately. I slept for 3 hours today...and I don’t know why. But hey--we all got through three (four???) months of this...we just gotta go...one month at a time.

That and I accidentally did my taxes early so there’s that. See? Good things still happen.

Also, because I only slightly referenced the most incredible movie ever made on San Fransisco soil, I’ll just leave this here. The true hallmark of our city.

youtube

Anyway you know the drill, here’s the link

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eliteprepsat · 3 years

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With 2020 in the rearview and the hopes of a better year in sight, resolutions have no doubt been on many minds. New Year’s resolutions can be a great way to reset at the start of the calendar. They allow one to check in with themselves and to assess what deserves greater personal focus into the future.

Whether making a resolution (or two, or three) is new to you or a common practice, here is a list of resolutions specific to high school students that you might consider undertaking in 2021.

1. Improve your grades

Whether it’s resolving to score higher on your weekly reading quizzes or to go from a B to an A in math, try taking actionable steps to reach your goal. What is necessary to better succeed on those reading quizzes? Taking better notes? Going over assigned chapters twice? And what do you need to achieve that A? Staying after class to ask your teacher about the problems you missed? Visiting your school’s tutoring center? Improved grades don’t magically happen to us. Instead, we need to take the initiative to make them happen. So, go the extra step, and see how your grades improve.

2. Become a better student

The best students aren’t simply those with the best GPA. Beyond improving your grades, you can also resolve to become a better overall student this year. Participating more in class, asking teachers about extra credit opportunities, assisting classmates who could use extra help in a strong subject of yours. These are just a few ways that you can become a better student. What other ways come to mind?

Becoming a better student has many benefits. For example, voicing your thoughts by participating more in class can aid in developing your critical thinking skills. It also displays to teachers your interest in their course and your ability to lead. This likely won’t be forgotten when teachers calculate your final course grades, and it will also come in handy when you hope to receive a favorable letter of recommendation from them for college.

3. Focus on actual learning

Grades are important. Even more important, though, is actual learning. This means not just memorizing a vocabulary list for a quiz only to instantly forget it. It means internalizing lessons for greater purpose.

How do you go about this? Build a course schedule that will assist in a career you could imagine yourself pursuing. This might mean taking classes at your local trade school or taking AP classes so that you can test out of required courses in college to focus more on your major. Regardless, in all of your classes, always consider how the material can help you in practical, real-world applications.

4. Expand your mind

Don’t forget that there is also so much to learn beyond the subjects offered in high school. What new things would you like to try to learn or do this year? Learn how to code? How to tap dance? Or throw a pot on a ceramics wheel? The possibilities are literally endless, and so are the resources available to you. Research what kinds of classes are offered to high schoolers at your local community college. Perhaps your own school even offers enriching clubs you don’t yet know about. And, of course, there is no shortage of books, documentaries, and podcasts out there (many of them often free) to assist you in expanding your knowledge, too.

5. Expand your sphere

In addition to expanding your mind, you may also wish to expand your sphere in the new year. “Networking” can be very important for success—in school and beyond. So, whenever you can, reach out to teachers, counselors, tutors, and even friends to build up your network. You never know when you might need to call upon those you know for help.

6. Focus on your school-life balance

Education is extremely important, especially as a young person hoping to succeed in high school, college, and into the working world. But it is also extremely important to experience fulfillment outside of school. For more on improving your school-life balance, see our previous articles “4 Tips For Finding Balance: How to Study and Still Have a Life” and “A Guide to Achieving a Healthier School-Life Balance”.

7. Focus on self-care

After 2020, we could all stand to focus more on our personal self-care. Self-care involves nourishing all facets of one’s mental and physical health. What requires tending to in your self-care routine? Getting more fresh air or exercise throughout the day? Drinking more water or sticking to a regular sleep schedule? Stretching, meditating, or even just committing to flossing every day are all good goals that will add to your mental and physical wellbeing.

8. “Unplug”

While social media keeps us connected, helps us learn, and supports our creativity, it also has damaging effects. Studies have shown that too much scrolling on our phones increases feelings of isolation, inadequacy, depression, and anxiety. This likely isn’t news to you. But how do you break the cycle? If you think that you may spend too much time on social media, resolve to limit your use in the new year. A few tips include disabling notifications, leaving your phone behind when you go to bed for the night, and even removing one or more social media apps from your phone altogether. You can also redirect your attentions from social media to your offline friends and interests.

9. Break a bad habit

Excessive social media use can be quite a bad habit. What other bad habits might you benefit from axing in the new year? Biting your nails? Eating too many sweets? What about gossiping or even cursing? Write your intention on a piece of paper or share it with a family member or friend who can support you in your quitting efforts. And feel free to reward yourself when you’ve made strides toward achieving your goal.

10. Kick procrastination to the curb

But what if your bad habit is putting things off? Kick procrastination to the curb this year by trying to identify the cause of your procrastination. Are you easily distracted? Do your best to eliminate distractions at the outset of tasks. Are you simply overwhelmed by the task at hand? Break it down into more manageable parts on a to-do list. And again, don’t forget to reward yourself—both as you cross steps off of your to-do list and when you finally complete an entire task.

11. Get organized

Can you never seem to find your favorite pen? Your comfiest sweater? Does it take you ten minutes just to locate that history report on your laptop because your home screen is loaded with so many files? Perhaps your New Year’s resolution could be to focus on your organizational skills. Work to declutter your desk, your closet, your computer, or any other area in your life that always seems to be in the most disarray. Clear your space, and you will also clear your mind.

12. Become a better citizen

Once you’ve decluttered your closet, why not donate your unwanted clothes to a local shelter or thrift store? This is just one way that you can resolve to be a better citizen, giving back to your community in the new year. Other ways to help make the world a better place include assisting with food drives, collecting blankets and other necessities for animal shelters, and becoming a reading buddy for young learners. There should be no shortage of volunteer opportunities in your area. And with a simple Google search, you can discover them all.

13. Reach out to old friends and/or family

Miss your best pal from seventh grade? Only talk to your favorite cousin on holidays? Give them a call or shoot them an email to initiate a closer relationship this year. Don’t be afraid to take the first step. It’s amazing how quickly and seamlessly true friends and/or family can pick up where they left off when they reconnect.

14. Make a new friend

Alternately, you can always add to your roster of exiting friends. No number of friends is too many—especially when the friends are quality. Is there someone you know as more of an acquaintance who seems like a potential pal? Ask to sit with them in class or at lunch. Invite them to an event. Though it may be awkward at first, you’ll find that most people appreciate being reached out to as a friend. After all, don’t you?

15. Be a better friend

Although it’s true that no number of friends is too many, it’s also true that—as the dictum holds—quality is more important than quantity when it comes to relationships. So, how can you be a better friend? Practicing being a better listener is a great place to start. These articles from The New York Times and Psychology Today provide great tips on how to be a better listener.

16. Practice gratitude

This can take many forms. For example, you can practice gratitude by more regularly writing “thank you” cards to loved ones. Or you can begin each day by naming out loud three things that make you happy. You could also keep a gratitude journal, board or jar (on/in which you regularly write down things for which you’re thankful). Practicing gratitude can help to make you feel more outwardly compassionate and more inwardly positive and satisfied. According to a Harvard medical study, it can even improve your physical health. So, try one or a few of these practices in the new year, and see how it makes you feel.

A few final thoughts and recommendations

Remember that your resolutions can be as small or as big as you like. Often, setting smaller, more manageable goals is best, since you can more readily and frequently see your progress along the way. But don’t be afraid to set “shoot for the moon” goals, as well. Indeed, the old adage is true that you can accomplish just about anything you set your mind to. But also remember the wise words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, who said that the greatest accomplishment is “To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you into something else.” So, whatever your resolutions for 2021, just be sure that they are right for you.

Serious about keeping your New Year’s resolutions? Check out Day by Day, Habitify, or Habitica—just three of many apps that allow you to keep visual track of your goals and your progress in achieving them. Such apps can help you to stay better focused and motivated on resolutions, and each is unique—from the more analytics-driven Habitify to the RPG-style Habitica.

And if you would prefer an app that is more tailored to a specific resolution, check out this list from PCMag, which includes apps for working on better eating, exercising, budgeting, and more.

Stacy G. is a writer and teacher who has taught composition, literature, and creative writing courses at a number of public and private universities across the U.S. She has also taught SAT, AP English, and Literature SAT Subject Test courses at Elite Prep. She likes poetry, dogs, and poetry about dogs.

#high school #studyblr #student life #study tips #New Year's Resolutions #goals #college prep

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charmstonegames · 3 years

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Albums for TTRPG Sessions

Listen, I know some of you like to game in complete silence. Just your game master’s dulcet tones, some pencils, dice, and silence. I’m not insensitive to this. For those of you that fit the above description, I’ve arranged for some alternate content this week. Click here if you don’t like background music.

For the rest of you, I’ve been thinking about good music to have playing in the background while you’re enjoying a fine TTRPG. First off, I want to say there’s nothing wrong with slapping on Gustav Holst’s The Planet Suite, The Lord of the Rings Soundtrack, or whatever video game OST you’ve got handy. But when I’m running a game, I don’t want any subliminal reference to some other work in the player’s minds. Music tastes have become varied that I'm fairly confident one or fewer of the below options will be familiar to your players.

It should go without saying, but play it just loud enough to be heard and low enough that the music never has a chance to overwhelm a player’s speaking volume. Aside from that, let the needle drop and enjoy the following albums.

Dead Can Dance - Gothic Spleen

Genre: Any Fantasy

Dead Can Dance is probably the most well known group to appear on this list, and frankly, they deserve it. For gaming background music, I usually don’t like vocals because I feel that it draws attention. However, Dead Can Dance tends towards chant-like lyrics that almost meld into the instrumentation. In some cases, they opt for glossolalic singing (meaning the vocalizations are deliberately unintelligible). Owing to their unique blend of world music styles, almost any of their albums make for a great soundtrack for gaming, but Gothic Spleens has this kind of nonspecific medieval feel that works for any fantasy setting. It’s sort of like if somebody made every background track of Age of Empires II into an absolute banger. Every song oozes with mythic goodness, so pop this on and your next D&D group will not be disappointed.

Shiho Yabuki- The Body is the Message of the Universe

Genre: Mystery, Supernatural Horror

Everything about this album just oozes mystery and intrigue. Remember that bit from The IT Crowd wherein Richard Ayoade plays a music stinger hoping his D&D game will find it “ruddy mysterious?” Well, this album knocks that out of the park. From what I can glean, this record was first released in Japan in 1987 and became instantly coveted by collectors in the US. Every track is both unobtrusive but tantalizingly enigmatic. This synth driven masterpiece has the rare quality of being at the same time striking and unplaceable. Other critics have remarked about Shiho Yabuki’s penchant to eschew melody for atmosphere and texture, which is why I think it makes for such incredible background music. Even if you’re not playing this for people in your game, I’d recommend you listen while you’re prepping. It just has a sort of indescribable way of wrapping itself around your brainstem and taking your mind places. It’s on YouTube, so check it out.

Umberto - Outskirts of Reno

Genre: Cyberpunk, SciFi

I don’t know a lot about the band Umberto. There’s no results that match them on the first page of Google search, so I’m comfortable labeling them mythical. Regardless, this driving synth album makes me feel like I’m living in the “Big Weird” of a William Gibson novel. There’s no vocals and positively determined drum, bass, and synth sculpting every track. It’s positively mesmerizing. If you’ve got an average story to tell set amongst a dystopian mega-city, this album will carry your session over the edge. There’s a sort of undefinable sinister mood undergirding this album that will make even the most timid players feel like they’re in a high-tech, low-life setting. If ever there was a soundscape to communicate a John Wick vibe and bi-sexual lighting this is it. You should be able to find this album on Spotify without too much trouble.

Claus Morlock - Bethany's Cradle

Genre: Dark Fantasy, Lovecraftian Horror

From what I can tell, this album was composed as a soundtrack to a folk horror movie of the same name. The story goes that the film was financed by the shadowy Lupus Pictures, apparently known for obscure movies like “Blood Of The Limping” and the “Seduction Of The Beast.” I’m nearly certain none of the aforementioned movies actually existed, but nearly is not completely. So there may have been a semi-haunted movie studio pumping out cursed pictures with awesome soundtracks in the 70s, but we’ll never know.

(Just between you and me this is absolutely a gimmick)

In spite of its dubious provenance, this album reminds me of a dark, inverted version of the Ocarina of Time OST. None of the instrumentation makes it immediately tied to any particular musical genre, but it gets a hold of you as instantly and deeply as those YouTube “beats to study/chill/vibe to” channels- and with waaaaaay better quality too. Every song is worthy of being sampled by some trip-hop obsessed musician in their basement. I can’t legally say there’s an ancient curse that makes anyone who hears this album love it, but what’s it worth to you to find out?

A Hawk and A Hacksaw - You Have Already Gone to the Other World

Genre: Anything sorta fantasy

When I was in high school, there was a resurgence of “cool celtic” music- specifically the Wicked Tinkers, Tempest, and Flogging Molly. This band does this but for Eurasian folk music. From what I can tell, this is another soundtrack to a movie that may or may not have existed. The story I’ve heard is this is a soundtrack for a lost soviet visual masterpiece. I’m not here to decide if this actually happened or not, but boy, would I want to see the movie that inspired this. It’s both barrels of rock-infused, steppe tribal music pointed right at your face.

It’s pretty difficult to describe this album, but I’ll venture to say that it sounds vaguely foreign to American ears, but definitely badass. The album somehow sounds bigger than a Motley Crue arena show and more intimate than a coffee house ukulele player. It’s intoxicating. It give you the feeling that you’re in the middle of an important story, even if you can’t quite tell if it’s the beginning, middle, or end. You and your players will feel like you’re centerstage of a grand, eternal show with this in the background.

I’ve got to be honest, I’ve been listening to these albums as I’ve been working in this piece and I got no less than 6 new campaign ideas. I’m all sorts of brimming with energy now.

I’ve got to do some deep breathing to calm down, but you should check these out and see which ones fits your current campaign best.

For more stuff like this, visit charmstonegames.com!

#ttrpg #ttrpg stuff #rpg #rpg music #d&d music #dungeons and dragons music

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bluesfortheredj · 4 years

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The Sweet Escape Chapter 5.

Wed 21st June

You wake up with a fuzzy head after not getting a lot of sleep the night before and memories of what happened yesterday soon come flooding back; the good, the great, and the downright awful way the day ended. Your head was still spinning from everything that had happened and it was making you feel so sick you thought you were about to throw up any second. Gwilym had video called his fiancée last night, you’d heard snippets through the wall, but you’d put your headphones on for a couple of hours so that you could block it all out and let him get on with it in private. It wasn’t for you to hear, she needed to hear what he had to say, not you. You felt cheated once again thanks to him not being honest with you, and it was the worst feeling in the world after finally letting him in to your life.

You should have stuck to your guns.

You should have kept pushing him away.

You should have known better after everything that had happened.

When you swing your legs out of bed and begrudgingly get out from underneath the warm covers, you spot a folded white sheet of paper that’s been pushed underneath your door, and you immediately know who it’s from. You go and pick it up with a heavy sigh, then reluctantly open it up to see a hastily written note from Gwilym.

(Y/N),

I knew the engagement was a mistake from the moment she said yes – the pressure of everyone around me moving on with their lives; getting married and having children became overwhelming and I thought that the best thing to do was join them.

I didn’t mean to involve you in any of this, it’s my mistake that I need to fix, and I promise I will. Being with you today has ignited something within me that I never thought would come to life again.

Please believe me when I say I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.

I didn’t mean for any of this to happen but my heart just couldn’t stop itself when I saw you, and I followed it blindly without thinking of the consequences.

I didn’t mean to fall for you, but I did.

The engagement is over, it never really began anyway.

Please give me a chance to talk to you face to face. After dinner, on the cliff path. Please. X

A tear falls from your cheek onto the paper unexpectedly as you realise that you’d also foolishly followed your heart instead of listening to your head, and you can’t help but remember the words that you’d heard being exchanged between him and his fiancée.

“You don’t want to go through with this, do you?” she’d asked immediately upon answering.

“I… I can’t.”

“Well the 30 unanswered calls and god knows how many texts told me that. You could have at least said something before you ran away.”

“I didn’t run away, I needed some time and space-”

“I knew this was going to happen. I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“As soon as I said yes to you, you turned into someone else, and now I can see already that you look more like the person you were before you asked me the question,” she’d snapped.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Me?! Why didn’t I say something?! Why the fuck didn’t you? I loved you. I wanted to make it work.”

“I’m so sorry. So very sorry, Rosie. I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing you can say. I’ll get your sister to pick up your belongings from mine and drop them at your parent’s. You can do the explaining to them. Goodbye Gwilym.”

You wince at the memory of her cutting him off like that, knowing that he would now be dreading going back home, but it couldn’t soften your heart and how you personally felt about him; you were still filled with anger and hurt at it all. It didn’t even come into it that he deemed the relationship over, the fact of the matter was that he had been engaged when he kissed you, and after what you’d had happen to you, it was the worst thing in the world he could have done.

You trudge towards your door after getting dressed, then hold your breath as you listen for any movement from the next room, and when you’re satisfied that Gwil’s not around you sneak out and into the breakfast room before anyone else.

“You’re early!” Danielle smiles as you walk towards her, but her grin soon fades when she takes a proper look at you; your eyes dark and heavy from lack of sleep, your mouth turned down into an unintentional grimace, “are you okay?”

“Just feeling under the weather today, I won’t be here for breakfast I’m afraid,” you sigh to exaggerate the fact you didn’t feel well.

“Not a problem darling, do you want some toast to take to your room?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Thank you though.”

You quickly slip back to your room until you hear Gwilym exit to go to breakfast, then make your escape while everyone’s eating and drive out to one of your favourite beauty spots to just sit and think things over in the tranquil surroundings of the countryside. Your thoughts soon turn to how you can avoid going to dinner, but dammit you were a fucking adult and had to face this head on instead of running away and hiding from it all; pretending none of this had ever happened. The buzzing from your phone soon drags you back to the present moment and when you see it’s your mum you almost burst into tears right there and then.

“Hello,” you answer meekly.

“What happened sweetheart?” she sighs. She was your mother, she knew already.

“Oh, mum,” you sob, “it’s a mess.”

The next hour or so is spent alternating between conversation and crying both on the nearby bench and then in your car when other people appear, and your mum listens to everything you have to say carefully until you run out of tears and words.

“And why did you bring his note with you when you left the guest house?” she asks, much to your confusion.

“Well, I… I don’t… I just put it in my bag, I don’t know why. Is it relevant?”

“You tell me.”

“Well I guess I just wanted to read over it again before dinner.”

“Because you want to give him the chance to talk to you? He’s obviously very taken by you, and he hasn’t held back in expressing his feelings about you, even if it is a rather short period of time. Who can blame him though? You’re beautiful, intelligent-”

“Mum.”

“What? I’m just saying, you can’t blame him for liking you… Even if he has gone about this the completely wrong way and made himself look like a total and utter arsehole in the process.”

You manage to let out a short laugh at her observation of the situation, he has indeed made himself look like a complete prick to be honest.

“Hmm,” you hum in agreement, “I definitely agree with the arsehole bit.”

“But, on the other hand, he has done the right thing his side with breaking things off.”

“But he didn’t tell her he kissed me.”

“Things were over as soon as he ran away like a cowardly muppet. He didn’t need to say anything about the kiss, love. It wasn’t you that broke them apart, that’s all down to him and the fact that he never should have proposed in the first place.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “true. Still doesn’t change the fact that he wasn’t upfront with me though.”

“Oh of course it doesn’t, and I fully expect you to give him hell for that, especially after what happened with Russell… But I would give him a chance to talk to you face to face. It doesn’t mean you’re okay with anything, and it doesn’t even mean you’ll talk to him for the remainder of your stay, it just means you’re mature enough to hear what he has to say and give him a bit of a bollocking for acting like a twat at the same time.”

“Haha!” you laugh, “he’s definitely getting a bollocking, don’t you worry mum.”

“You really like him, don’t you?” she asks, already knowing your answer.

“Yeah… unfortunately.”

“It’s not unfortunate at all, you needed something to take your mind off Russell. It’s just a shame he’s a bit of a twit,” your mum chuckles.

“Just goes to show there’s no such thing as a perfect man!” you reply, “I should have known there’d be something wrong with someone so handsome.”

“Well it could be worse, just try and think on that. Now you get something to eat please, and then text me when you’ve spoken to him tonight.”

“Will do. Love you.”

“Love you too darling.”

You let out a long and loud sigh as you tilt your head back on the head rest, then put your phone in your bag along with the note you’d read out to your mum, and decide on where to go for lunch; all that crying had really worked up an appetite.

The time goes far too quickly for you, and you find yourself clenching your teeth the entire drive back to the guest house. You wait outside for a few minutes before eventually undoing your seatbelt and making your way inside, then you rush to your room and shut yourself in until you absolutely have to leave it and face Gwilym again. Your stomach couldn’t help but feel nervous at seeing him again, it was a wild mix of emotions that you felt, and when you take your seat in the dining room your heart is racing inside your chest. He walks in not long after you but stays silent as he nods and smiles to the other guests who are already seated, then he looks directly at you, the sadness in his eyes evident already as you quickly turn away for fear of crying.

“Are you-” he begins.

“How are you feeling now darling?” Danielle interrupts, positioning herself between your tables to block his view.

“Better, thanks,” you nod as she places your starter down in front of you.

“Good to hear,” she smiles as she gives your shoulder a squeeze.

Gwilym takes the hint and doesn’t attempt any further conversation while you’re eating, then you make the first move as you exit the dining room before him, taking a slow stroll up the garden and eventually out onto the cliff path. Your fingers wrap around the cold metal of the fence that separates you from the sea below as you await Gwil’s arrival, and as soon as you see his familiar figure lingering next to you, your grip gets a little tighter.

“I’m sorry. So very sorry (Y/N),” he sighs, “I didn’t-”

“Why?” you butt in quietly but confidently, “why did you do that to me? It was quite literally the worst thing you could have done.”

“I didn’t realise that Russell had cheated on you, I was stupid to do that, I wasn’t thinking straight at all...”

“I mean, I realise that your relationship was over before that happened, but it doesn’t change the fact that you were still engaged when we kissed,” you sigh, letting go of the fence and turning to face him properly, “do you know how shit that made me feel? Being involved in a situation that was dangerously close to what had just happened to me, but on the other side of it?”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs defeatedly, “I don’t know what else to say. There was no excuse for how I acted, I simply shouldn’t have done it without properly ending things first. Russell was a fucking prick to do that to you, and now I’ve acted like a prick. I’m not really a prick though, honestly, and all I did was follow my heart… and I know you did too, otherwise you wouldn’t have let me in like you did. I betrayed your trust, and I’ll never forgive myself for doing that, because it’s true what I said yesterday, you deserve everything that’s good in this world.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, half to stop yourself from crying and half because he’d just said everything you wanted him to say even though you didn’t want to let him off that easy on this.

“Come and sit with me,” he offers, taking your free hand and leading you over the to bench.

You both take a seat; his arm automatically draping around your shoulders and his thumb rubbing your t-shirt comfortingly.

“I don’t expect to be forgiven straight away,” he says quietly, “but I’m not going to just leave things like this. I can’t. I’m in too deep. I need you in my life (Y/N), and I don’t think you realise the effect you’ve had on me these last few days.”

“Well, I obviously made you forget you had a fiancée yesterday…” you say with a sideways glance.

“I deserved that,” Gwil nods, “that was a dick move on my part, I hold my hands up.”

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement.

Within a matter of seconds he’s on his knees in front of you, holding your hands in his as he meets your confused gaze with pleading eyes that were glistening in the dim street light a few feet from the seat you were on.

“I will do anything… anything… to spend the next few days with you. Please. Give me a chance to show you I’m not a complete dickhead,” a stray tear falls down his cheek, but his grip on your hands only tightens as he awaits your answer, “I promise I’ll make it up to you by the end of the week.”

“When we’ll inevitably go our separate ways...” you sigh, seeing the end before it’s already begun.

“We won’t,” he replies, shaking his head furiously from side to side, “that won’t happen because I won’t let it, but we don’t even have to think about that yet. Just follow your heart one more time and I swear I won’t let you down.”

You slip a hand from his and his face visibly drops at your action until you reach out towards him slowly and wipe away the tears that had fallen upon his cheeks while he was speaking. There was a hell of a lot of making up to do, but if he believed that he could do it all by the end of the week, then who were you to stop him from attempting it? You relent, signifying your decision by giving him a single nod, and his face lifts instantly into a smile.

@painthatiusedto @winnielinleigh @queenslandlover-93 @excellentbecca @peachllobotomy @lovemarvelousfics @lovemelikeyou1997 @readinghorn @godohammers @timeandpixiedust @lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @the-baby-bookworm @chlobo6 @tenement-funstah @rogmeddows @drivenbybri @mazzellosjoe @muralskins

#gwilym lee #gwilym x reader #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee fluff #gwilym imagine

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self-excellence · 6 years

Text

FIX YOUR SLEEPING SCHEDULE (1-2 months)

Try to wake up earlier every day. Like 5 - 10 min earlier than the day before. Until you wake up any time before 8am or so…

If you struggle with waking up & snooze button is your bff:

Put your alarm clock as far away from the bed as possible.

Drink a glass of water right after you wake up.

Pour another glass of water on yourself right after you wake up.

Prepare some coffee the night before (try the cold brew method), leave it by your bedside, drink it after you wake up. Alternatively, buy some caffeine pills and take one right after waking up with a big glass of water.

Have your blinds/curtains open the night before, so that it’s bright after you wake up.

Try to go to bed 5-10 min earlier than the night before.

Track how many hours of sleep you’re getting. Aim to get at least 7h per day or 49h per week.

Increase your sleeping hours incrementally. Aim to get at least 1h of sleep more than the previous week. For example, if this week you slept for 41hrs, aim to get an extra hour of sleep next week, so it’s 42h. Once you get enough hours of sleep and wake up early-ish:

Try to keep your sleeping schedule consistent. It is really important to go to bed and wake up at the same time every day. Even if it’s weekend. Or even if that means getting less than 7hrs of sleep that day. I’d say waking up at the same time everyday is the most important step, which will help you the most with fixing your sleeping schedule.

START EATING HEALTHY (1-2 months)

This step really depends from person to person, but firstly I suggest you take some blood tests to see if you have any deficiencies, etc. Especially, if you struggle with cravings.

Try intermittent fasting, if you struggle with binge eating or overeating. As it will help you to learn to listen to your body better: when it’s hungry, when it’s full, etc. It’s really simple, there are many methods of Intermittent fasting, but I’d suggest 16/8 for the beginners. (Google it for more info)

DRINK ALL THE WATER. Again, if you’re not drinking enough water, try to level up your water game incrementally. Download some water tracking app on your phone to help you. Drinking water will make you more energetic, increase your metabolism, and decrease you appetite (among many more benefits). If you really struggle with meeting your water intake:

Reward yourself when you meet your daily/weekly goals.

Drink through the straw - idk why, but you are going to drink much more if you use a straw. Trust me.

Get a nice water bottle.

Flavour your water with fruits etc.

Check this video for more tips

Track what you eating. I would really suggest tracking your meals for around a month. Because, most of the time people have no idea that what they’re eating is unhealthy. Again, download an app to your phone for that.

Make your own meals once in a while. Not only this will save you money, but it’ll help you to see what’s really going into your body. Start by doing that once a week and build it up depending how much time and energy you have.

Eat less meat and more veggies/fruits. Go to your local market and buy some veggies/fruits, you have never tried before. I’m sure you’ll find your new favs. Eat/buy less meat. Not only it’s good for the environment, but it is good for you, too. Get a veggie burger instead of the beef one, etc.

Cut dairy. Find your new favourite milk substitute. Advice: Oat milk is really good with the tea and oatmeal/porridge; hazelnut milk is amazing on it’s own; cashew milk goes well with cereals.

Learn more about nutrition in general. It will help you to make better food choices and it will make eating healthy much easier in general, because once you understand all the chemistry behind the food and what it does to your body, you kinda don’t want to make yourself feel worse. Here are some free resources: - Human nutrition course from Alison.com - Crash course Metabolism&Nutrition: Part 1 and Part 2 - The Health Nerd’s YouTube Playlist about nutrition - What I’ve Learnt YouTube Playlist - Human nutrition course from Alison.com - Crash course Metabolism&Nutrition: Part 1 and Part 2 - The Health Nerd’s YouTube Playlist about nutrition

GET PHYSICALLY FIT (2-6 months)

Define your goals. Do you want to lose weight, do you want to get stronger, gain weight, be able to climb the stairs without losing your breath, run 5k?

Remember - you’re half-way through. Being physically fit has a lot to do with what you put into your body. So, if you fulfilled the previous step of eating healthy - you are halfway through!

Make a plan. A Reasonable plan. Be honest with yourself. Alternatively, there are many already-made plans if you’re feeling lazy. Like, Couch to 5k for running, Beginners 30-day exercise guide, 30 days of yoga, etc.

Start small. Like, 5 min exercise in the morning. Or doing 10 sit ups per day. Don’t do anything overwhelming, like running 5k everyday if you haven’t run for the past 5 years.

Make sure that you kinda like what you’re doing. If you absolutely hate running - don’t do it. Hate doing sit ups in the morning? Try some yoga instead.

Explore until you find what you like. You don’t have to go to gym to get fit, especially if you hate it. Find a type of exercise, which you actually like. Maybe it’s dancing or hiking, taking your dog for a walk. Sign up for several trial lessons of various sport clubs. Ditch ‘em if you have them until you find something that you love. Stick with that.

Do the small changes in your everyday life. Stairs>Escalator, Walk>Drive, Do some squats while brushing your teeth, switch from regular desk to standing desk, etc… Find ways to incorporate being active into your everyday life

Track your effort instead of your progress. You cannot really control your progress that much (especially if your goal was to lose weight). However, you can always control your effort. So track it instead. This will leave you more motivated. As you will be able to see that you can do more and more everyday. Whereas, if you tracked your progress, you may not always get the result you hoped for, which might demotivate you and make you upset, wanting to quit.

BEAT DEPRESSION

Do the previous 3 steps and you’re halfway through as mental health depends a lot on the physical health.

See a therapist/doctor. Depression is an illness requiring medical treatment. So, get it. Remember: there is absolutely no fucking shame in having a mental illness.

Get some extra support. Talk to your friends or family. Or maybe someone on the internet.

Write it out. If you don’t want to talk - write down your thoughts. It can be just as helpful. It’ll help you to understand yourself better, see problems in your thinking, etc. Buy a cheap notebook (or expensive one, up to you) and start a journal. Try being consistent by writing every morning or evening or both, but DO NOT BLAME YOURSELF if you miss some entries. Read through your past entries. Analyse them. Extract the lessons.

Distract yourself from yourself. Get someone/something to take care of, so that you can, for a moment, stop thinking about yourself. E.g, get a plant, or a dog, or a fish and focus on keeping them alive and well.

Self-care day. Dedicate at least one day per week for self-care. Take yourself out to a museum or some fancy cafe, do some stuff you like, whatever your hobbies are, do some physical self care: bath, face mask, manicure, etc., listen to some nice music, watch a film…..

STOP PROCRASTINATION

Celebrate your victories instead of mourning over your loses. So the only thing you’ve done today was write one sentence for your 20 page essay? Amazing! Buy yourself a candy for that!! I mean, you could’ve done nothing, but you didn’t - you wrote that one sentence and that’s worth celebrating. Redefine the success - doing something is a hundred million times better than doing nothing.

Do it for only 2 minutes. If there’s an important thing you’ve been putting off for a while, tell yourself that you will only spend 2 minutes on doing it. If after 2 minutes you don’t want to do it anymore, great, stop it. However, after 2min. you actually might want to do more. No pressure either way.

Track your productivity. Track how much time you’ve been productive that day. Try to increase that time by a little bit every day.

Always forgive yourself. So, it’s been a week and you’ve done nothing? Don’t sweat it. Let it go. Blaming yourself will bring you absolutely nothing. Nothing good will come out of your negativity on yourself. So stop it. Forgive yourself and start again. And again, if you need to. Never stop trying. Always pick yourself after you fall. Beating procrastination and increasing your discipline is a skill. And all skills can be build on. There is nothing in you stopping you from changing. Remember that.

LEARN HOW TO DO TAXES (1h - 1 day)

Go to google.com.

Type in: “How to do taxes *the name of the country you’re living in*”

Read the results.

Alternatively, if you like socialising, ask some adults, whom you know, about it. Trust me, older people love teaching us youngsters. Learn all the lessons you can from them.

GET MENTALLY STRONG ENOUGH TO MAKE PHONE CALLS

Remember that just as with beating procrastination, making phone calls is a skill. And, again, skills can be learnt.

Get a new SIM card.

Top it up.

Dial some random numbers and pretend to be a salesman, selling whatever you like.. E.g., trying to sell broadband, cable tv, trying to get people to donate for some charity… Or whatever really… Me and some friends used to pretend we’re selling kittens or wood logs. Alternatively, you can pretend that you dialed a wrong person and talk about whatever, e.g. “Hey, Jess!! You wont believe what I saw today!! *start telling a made-up story*…”

If you get uncomfortable - just drop the call. No consequences whatsoever.

Repeat until you build up your game and your phone-call anxiety starts to diminish.

SLAY THOSE BITCHES Congratulations, now you’re ready to take over the world! Got get ‘em!!

(before reblogging, check the updated version of this post here)

#advice #life #lifestyle #quotes #tips #learning #masterpost #studyspo #inspiration #motivation #goals #fitblr #fitness #mental health #22inspo #22motivation #original #setheverman #pathofthestrong

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warsofasoiaf · 4 years

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Hi again, just a friendly reminder for you about Disco Elysium. I played it myself 2 weeks ago and I thought it was a wonderful game, looking forward to hear your opinion.

Here’s the weekend reminder about disco elysium: at some point I’d like to hear your thoughts about Kim and the deserter, but I’m sure you have a lot of first thoughts about the game’s narrative and styles at large and the overall themes ?

Yep, I’ve got many thoughts on Disco Elysium. Overall, I found it an incredibly enjoyable throwback to the classic role-playing games of the old Infinity Engine in a good way. It’s dialogue-driven in the way Planescape: Torment was, but was confident enough to avoid the pitfalls of combat that punctuated the D&D games in favor of a mechanical challenge of skill checks. All conflict is done through dialogue, either through picking a dialogue choice or engaging in a skill check. The game also helpfully gives you feedback, not only in your skill totals, but in how your actions influence the choices you’ve made. Did you take the corrupt union boss’s check? He has you over a bit of a barrel so it’s harder to resist him. Did you impress Cuno with your marksmanship by shooting down the body? You have a bonus to impress him since you’ve already done it before. This sort of openness with the mechanics of the game helps smooth over understanding of the functions, as well as reinforce the themes. Since everything you do is in the dialogue trees, and all of these choices occur in dialogue, it stresses careful reading of the dialogue box as opposed to something you just blow through to get quest markers or goodies.

Alright, let’s talk about the plot. Since there will be spoilers and it’s a relatively recent game, I’m going to throw a cut in here.

One of the chief themes of the game is sadness and loss, it’s written all across the setting. Heck, it’s even written into the name. Disco is the archetypical music genre that is dead, despite its followers wishing that it could come back. Elysium, the afterlife of Greek mythology. It was a failed communist revolution followed by a failed monarchist rebellion followed by a capitalist invasion, and now exists as a pit of corruption, crime, and plenty of people within Martinase look back to the lost days by cleaving to the old political systems as a source of comfort. Communists and monarchists look back to the old communes that were established, capitalists look to the successful Coalition and the ability of capital to absorb its naysayers and failures into itself for success, and the moralists look at the other three and say “you extremists are absolutely insane!” and hold to their own centrist platform and the path of incremental caution. This is hardly unusual in our own history, with far too many historical examples to list here. There’s a longing there for something that is lost, the people you meet in the game are lost, even what seems to be simple comedic beats have their own secret wishes, like Cuno who ends up helping you in the final act if you lose Kim, and can even become a junior police officer once out of the thumb of Cunoeese. Harry can sing the saddest song about the littlest church, and it’s a perfect expression of his regret, as his reptile brain lets him know. The deserter is lost in regret, albeit an incredibly negative sort. He curses those who are not ‘committed’ like him, who aren’t willing to murder like him. He looks at the Rene, the old monarchist with his boule, and wishes only to pull the trigger and silence him.

The main character you inhabit is a great twist on the blank slate character that dominates the ‘western RPG.’ The main character starts the game passed out in his own drug-fueled excess. Where most RPG’s either expect reading a large lore dump (this was the case with the Forgotten Realms Infinity Engine games, which expected people to know who Cyric or Auril was) or largely wave it off with bland exposition, this was a game that made what happened an integral part of your character. What drives such a man to try and destroy himself so completely? Going through the game reveals the answer: it’s Dora, your ex-wife. Before, your obsession with your job (your case load, as noted by Kim, is exceptionally high), seemed to be at odds with your character’s penchant for substance abuse and overall instability, but exploring the failed relationship with Dora sheds new light on Harry DuBois. Dora was a wealthy woman, and your character was clearly a member of the lower classes given his demeanor and salary. Your character tried to immerse themselves in the work perhaps to earn more money, or simply to earn prestige to help alleviate the mismatch. It didn’t work, Dora left six years ago, and the detective has been alone ever since. By calculating the ‘cop tracks’ that the character can be on, the game can populate dialogue with references to the behavior, allowing the character to fill out aspects of themselves in a character-driven way. Tyranny did this with its campaign character generation, and Disco Elysium does it here. Such things are always going to be niche in RPG’s, the driving trend these days is instead make a completely blank character and have them be built out from actions taking place in the game world, but this typically leads to characters who rationalize performing optimal paths and who do everything the game offers in the world, which translates either into a lot of time doing repetitive content (in order to built up other character builds to the same level of mastery to the original build) or leads to ludo-narrative dissonance at the ease of which the character plows through the content, like becoming the Arch-Mage in Skyrim without being able to cast a single adept-level spell.

However, that isn’t to say that Harry is alone. Instead, the detective is quite a crowd is his own head, with the 24 various skills that he has developed largely advising, suggesting, yelling, and talking over each other. This was almost certainly part of the reason the original name of the game was “No Truce with the Furies.” The Furies, in Greek mythology were embodiment of vengeance, primal feelings that sought out their goals. These 24 skills in your head almost cannot be compromised with, only accepted or rejected. They’ll yell inside your own head to listen to them. Electrochemistry wants its next fix, Volition is certain that Klaasje is trying to manipulate you and wants you to slap cuffs on her right now, Physical Instrument wants you to show everyone who’s boss with fists while Authority wants the same with words. This was almost overwhelming at first, 24 characters to figure out in addition to my own character as well as Kim, Cuno, Joyce, Everett, and the Hanged Man made me wonder what exactly I was going to do. What was the difference between Volition and Composure, or Shivers and Inland Empire? It helps on a replay once you figure out what the skills actually mean and can help shape your character into your preferred vehicle for exploring Revanchol West. Dealing with these characters can be fun, insightful, and incredibly heartwarming, as the player can understand when they finally find out that Reptile Brain and Limbic System are simply trying to help Harry out with the loss of his ex-wife by trying to get rid of the sad feelings as best they can.

What helps with this though, is that failing skill checks is not a death sentence. One of the most annoying things in games comes when you depend upon success after success that is out of your control, it encourages save-scumming behavior. This isn’t to say that failure isn’t a valuable learning experience or that difficulty is something to be avoided; the enduring popularity of the Soulsborne genre suggests that difficulty is not itself a bad thing. But failure typically has to be fair. If instead a game drops you in a room with 25 gorgons, forcing you to roll 25 checks against petrification or die immediately, that’s not challenge, that’s just padding the length of the game by forcing repeat content. Disco Elysium instead makes failure, particularly of red skill checks, either entertaining or allowing alternate paths. I laughed with absolute glee when my character took off from Garte yelling at him about the trashed hotel room which ended up becoming a full sprint while flipping him the bird, causing me instead to run over the nice wheelchair-bound old lady, in true black comedy fashion, or that you can get into a nodding war with Kim that’s so intense that you actually break your neck. That the game offers so many different methods to the same path helps elevate the role-playing elements.

Similarly, one of the best moments of game design was when you looked at the billboard to find out where Ruby could have gone. It’s a difficult Shivers check, which might force people into an insurmountable wall if they haven’t upgraded their Shivers skill. However, doing stuff in the fishing village, from going on a date with the harpoon girl to tracking down what went on with the body on the boardwalk, gives you bonuses to the check, encouraging the character to perform the side quests and explore the bonus content.

The game’s side content really does reward some more of the Dirk Gently type of character that sees connectivity in anything. The old lady reading outside the bookstore doesn’t have a missing husband only to later be the wife of the man who died on the boardwalk, or that a grounded character won’t walk out into the water to speak with the apparition of Dora as the mythical Dolores Dei (another great reference to what was lost, the lost wife seen as the lost mythic Moralist conqueror and crusader) means that the more grounded character does have the more grounded, less intense story. But the short length encourages replayability, and the idea that a grounded character has a more grounded story is in it’s own way a commitment to the game’s overall vision, even if it means you miss out on a key insight the first time around.

I’m incredibly impressed at how the developers stuck to their visions and the finished product that they developed. My hat is off to them.

Thanks for the question, Khef, the multiple Anon’s who reminded me, TBH, and everyone else who was looking forward to this essay.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

#disco elysium #video game reviews

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madamlaydebug · 5 years

Text

The Great Awakening has begun ★

Anger, hatred, aggression and fear are the food source of the Archons

The Mainstream Media is the last bastion of the “Deep State”

The real question is how do we become conscious?

We all are Slaves to the System

We all want to be free, healthy, educated and live in a peaceful society

Mass Awakening is the Cabal’s greatest Fear

The awakening is erupting. Being awake comes with a price. It may have been difficult and painful going through the stages of awakening, but convincing others by challenging circumstances and conditions to open the eyes and minds of others is even more difficult. It has become a struggle against time when awake and one sees all the injustices that could have easily been avoided.

It’s very sad to see unawakened people being tossed to and fro, without having a clue as to what is really going on. But even that is an “engineered” shake-up designed by the Deep State. Nevertheless, that should help every one of us to come to our senses and surpass this false reality. Millions are flocking to alternative news sources to try to make sense of what’s going on, stumbling across realities they never considered possible, or could have ever imagined before.

If the truth be known, the awake are responsible for sharing it ardently, but also for doing it with a passion. Not always pleasant, but a duty that must be done. The hour is late and the timeframe we are living in is terrible, the necessity brings forth optimal awareness and swift action. There’s no alternative left.

The world is bankrupt financially, economically, and morally, but through manipulation and deceit, people are led to believe that all is well. It’s absolutely absurd that all the bubble assets are at such astronomical highs, while wealth-preservation assets like gold and silver have been totally annihilated through manipulation. The elite and the media continuously fool the people regarding the state of the world.

Anger, hatred, aggression and fear are the food source of the Archons

The tactics employed are comprised of manipulating economies, trade and the masses through fear: fear of war, fear of starvation, fear of economic collapse, imprisonment and death. This state of mind has directed and shaped global events for centuries and has become the standard operating procedure. This process of enslaving civilisations is contrary to the survival drive of humanity and suppresses the natural instinct of all humans to do good and be kind to each other.

Do not view all this madness from a foundation of fear; this will just make you angry and aggressive, which in turn will lead to violence and a perpetuation of this madness. It is hard to remain calm when faced with the hard truth, but it’s what must be done, in order to safely get through this. Anger, hatred, aggression and fear are the sort of emotions that have led to this madness and it is the food source of the Archons. Stop feeding them and help to change our world view completely. In this way, we will change everything for the better, by changing our way of thinking.

Bear in mind; the real purpose of government is, always and everywhere, to enable the few to exploit the many. The credit money system is a clever way of doing so. The bureaucracy will continue to churn out laws, statutes, codes and regulations that reinforce its powers and value systems and those of the police state and its corporate allies, rendering the rest of us petty criminals. The average citizen unknowingly commits three felonies a day, thanks to this overabundance of vague laws that render otherwise innocent activity illegal. As an example, small farmers who dare to make unpasteurised goat cheese and share it with members of their community will continue to have their farms raided.

The Mainstream Media, the last bastion of the “Deep State”

The Mainstream Media is the last bastion of the “Deep State” organised crime network that, over the years in the past, has infiltrated and hijacked most, if not all institutions. But, their days are numbered and the ensuing collapse will most likely be violent and shocking to all those unaware of what is unfolding.

The principal source of the Deep State’s power is their control of the process of creating and distributing money, i.e. their ownership of almost all of the world’s central banks, and multinationals. They have used this money-power to bribe, blackmail and assassinate people at top levels of power in order to enforce their control. They also control the corporate media and have been using every propaganda tool at their disposal to rig society and markets where necessary.

Fortunately, trust in the mainstream media has fallen to an all-time low and continues to plummet. Much of this has to do with an increasingly aware and disgruntled public: More and more people are able to discern a mainstream media totally lacking integrity, thanks to the rising popularity of the independent/alternative media, exposing the dishonesty.

People are increasingly seeing right through the various media sources with their dogmatic, unhealthy sceptics, shills, trolls, pseudo-debunkers, controlled opposition agents, biasing, filtering and in-your-face lies; intended to sell us the spin of disinformation to keep people ignorant, deceived and helplessly anaesthetised in the world’s matrix controlling system.

The real question is how do we become conscious?

Our overwhelming, uncontrollable mass awakening is what the world’s ruling elite fear the most. Since we greatly outnumber them and their associates, they wouldn’t know how to deal with our vast numbers, even with their advanced technology. As a result, the real question is how do we become conscious?

Since ancient times, under the ruling thumb of the world’s Black Nobility or dark overlords, humanity has been hacked, stymied, suppressed and coerced into submission through mind controlling, soul destroying atrocities. Those unable to see that just about every matter under the sun is a deception, that their family and friends are affected in every way imaginable; those who don’t yet realise the extent to which the dark overlords have us tightly stitched up, are indeed about to experience the shock of a lifetime when this entire fraudulent system comes crashing down. What they have clung to as a reality will soon sink into the abyss of Grand Deceptions.

Simply, become conscious by choosing it. By acting on those synchronicities better known as meaningful coincidences. By acting on that which calls, moves and inspires us. Taking action through listening to our inner voice, coming from our inner being; paying attention to our gut feelings and basic instincts.

Choosing to become conscious means detaching one’s self from the mind control programming; escaping the effects of the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual prison matrix woven around us by the Globalist’s oppression.

Breaking free from the mind programming and the imposition of others, with multidimensional consciousness, escaping the dualistic confinements of matter, energy and space-time, anything is possible, and the Truth will be revealed. Creating a driving desire to find out more about the truth regarding what is going on in our world. Seeing that the world is in a mess and we are all plodding along, business as usual, expecting someone else to sort it all out. Most of us are too busy earning money and surviving, as surviving, by design, takes up all our time. Most people cannot seem to see beyond that and that is why we are in this mess in the first place.

We have all been manipulated and played. We have all been mesmerised, hypnotised and turned into consumer-driven slaves. Making money for the large corporations and the 0.1% rich of the world is the name of the game, or so we have been programmed. Each day they get richer and richer, finding new ways, like global warming and CO2 emission taxes, to force us to part with our hard-earned money; they are very clever at it. They know how to manipulate the human mind, they know how to get us to spend our money and we don’t even realise it is happening.

Governments extract far too much money from us, and we use almost all of our time on Earth working for this money. They leave every family with a small amount to spare, while the really wealthy manage to avoid paying their taxes through carefully engineered loopholes.

The real purpose of government is, always and everywhere, to enable the few to exploit the many. The money system is a clever way of doing so.

We all are Slaves to the System

The modern world of industry, commerce, and investment works on win-win software. Only governments with their conflicts, wars, taxes, tariffs, ‘do-this laws’, and ‘don’t-do-that prohibitions’, continue to operate on pre-civilised programming. It is a relic, an institution with a ‘grab whatever we can grab’ mentality.

A trade war is just as phony as a war on drugs, a war on crime, or a war on terror. None are worth fighting for. And none are winnable. It is meant to reward the elite at others’ expense. Nothing more, nothing less. Think of it, we are all, quite simply, slaves to the system! The people at the bottom are paying for the people at the top to keep their lavish life styles. We pay our taxes and any money that is left over is coveted by major corporations.

We are bombarded with adverts continuously, telling us to buy more stuff we don’t need. We are encouraged to spend, spend and then spend some more. We replace everything, even when it doesn’t need replacing. We need to get out of this mentality.

We need to re-cycle, re-use and make do with what we have. We have all been brainwashed into this consumerism insanity. It’s all been smoke and mirrors, mind-games, played out on the world stage, aiming to keep us all in a state of awe and fear.

We all want to be free, healthy, educated, and live in a peaceful society

Our subconscious minds have been conditioned to see only what differentiates us, rather the things that bind us. Believe it or not, we’re extremely similar in all aspects.

We may come from different backgrounds or different cultures, but we all have the same basic values in life. We all want to be free, healthy, educated, to live in a peaceful society and to have access to the basic necessities for survival. That’s about it. Wherever we live in the world. Basically, all we really want is to be happy and healthy.

Instead, we have wars, hunger, insecurity, homelessness, and many around the world don’t have access to clean water and food. And it’s all by design because, people who are constantly “on the edge” don’t have time for self-education, introspection and eventually spiritual awakening.

We all are the victims of mass propaganda and brainwashing. It has reached the point where families choose to believe the media and the governments of the world, rather than members of their own family and friends who have woken up to the truth and are attempting to warn them and awaken them.

The truth can be frightening and that is why people want to avoid it. They would rather stick their heads in the sand like an ostrich, believing that as long as they choose not to look at it, it will not exist. Unfortunately for them, Truth has a way of existing, even in the face of ridicule and denial. It does not need the approval of a counterparty to become legitimate. Truth simply Is. Once you know the truth, you can never go back, even if you want to. The truth cannot be unseen; once seen, the truth stays with you forever. In any event, be assured, the truth will come out in the end, as it always does.

The truth comes at a cost – it will end all the lies and the illusions that people previously based their entire lives on. And that is an on-going process. – Many feel lost and afraid right now all across the spectrum of humanity. This deliberate creation of chaos is designed to do just that. However, parallel and simultaneous to their psychotic designs, a massive arousal of the human spirit is occurring, spurred on by an arising of conscious awareness and a deep sense of growing personal realisation and empowerment.

Most may not recognise these rising, seemingly confusing energetic changes, as being the creative process at work, but it is, THE GREAT AWAKENING. First, preceding this creativity is a destructive process, eliminating everything that is unreal and inhibitive of personal development and progress. These two dynamics work alongside each other.

The Elite see us as their slaves, our sole purpose being to provide them with our energy money, so that they can follow their master plan, bringing about the New World Order.

We have procreated very well and are now, in their view, overrunning the planet, so they now want to cull a large number of us. Hence GMO’s, fluoride, chemtrails, vaccinations and the endless wars; all these things lower our immunity for whatever they have planned for us.

They want us to be in a state of eternal slumber, hypnotised and brainwashed by their omnipresent propaganda and most of us have unwittingly complied with their wishes. But, we are more powerful than them and they know it, which is why they have been so patient. Humanity is waking up, slowly but surely.

One of the reasons humanity cannot grasp what is going on, is because these creatures are so evil, that it’s hard to believe just how vile they are. And people are actually right in their disbelief of these atrocities: human beings cannot be this cruel!

Humans are not at the pinnacle of this diabolical plan, it is a Reptilian agenda, and Reptilians cannot experience positive emotions. They are simply unable to care for others or to experience noble emotions, such as love or empathy. They are driven by fear, hate, rivalry and competition. The truth is far stranger and more incredible than we can imagine, say whistle-blowers like Corey Goode.

Will our mass awakening to the deception produce a turnaround, into a world that makes a difference for everyone? A world where there are no predators, no controlling hierarchy, no blood-sucking vampires, slave-drivers at the top, ruling the enslaved at the bottom. No more fighting for self-sufficiency, because we will achieve everything in the communities we live in.

It is up to all of us to contribute our part.

Source: Final Wakeup Call

LOVE; ONE Inner Light & a New Earth to EveryONE ★

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movby-blog · 6 years

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New Post has been published on https://travel.movby.co/travel-sickness-the-best-tips-for-a-relaxing-vacation/

Travel sickness - the best tips for a relaxing vacation

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Are you also someone who is often plagued by travel sickness? Whether during my road trip through California, in the rickety bus on winding roads in the mountains of northern Thailand or just on the plane: it does not catch me so often, but if it is, then it is always a very very unpleasant feeling. Especially when I pick up my smartphone or a book in vehicles, it not only makes me sick, but I also get a pretty nasty headache. Luckily, there are some tips that will help you to deal with travel sickness. I’ve already tried many of them myself and would like to share with you those who have helped me the most, here and now!

Travel sickness: the best tips for a relaxed vacation How does traveling sickness arise at all? First and foremost I would like to explain to you briefly how travel sickness (often the term motion sickness is used) actually arises. If you know the connections and triggers better, you can avoid many mistakes right from the start. The result is the nausea when traveling: For example, if you feel the swaying movements of the waves on a boat in your cabin, but can not see them because of the closed space, your brain is overwhelmed by the contradictory sensory impressions. Your inner-ear balance organ will be irritated and your body will react with nausea. In the car or bus, especially on winding roads, it’s the same, the other way around: You see the passing landscape, but sit perfectly still in your seat. Also, this situation can not properly assign your brain and you will be bad. Be sure to check the position of your seat A well-thought-out seating choice can really work wonders! For example, I get sick most of the time when I’m sitting in a car or bus on one of the back seats, concentrating on something in my hands. Be it a book or a smartphone: I get sick within a few minutes and I get an unpleasant headache. For example, I do not tolerate driving back in trains or buses at all. In the past, I’ve already spoiled so many travel days, but now I know better: If possible, always find a place where you have the opportunity to look out of the front window (very important: not the side window). It’s best to fix things that are far away, not moving, such as the road from the windshield. In the car you choose so best the passenger seat and in buses the places very far ahead. Do not fumble around in your backpack and do not read. Also, the laptop or your smartphone should stay packed! Regular breaks in the fresh air work wonders Do not underestimate the power of regular breaks and a bit of exercise in the open air, whether you’re traveling by bus, car or boat! I often remember my trip to the Antarctic on one of these great expedition ships: on some days, especially during the crossing of the dreaded Drake Passage, we had very high waves and almost half of the passengers on board became seasick. I did not feel too bad myself, but I spent a lot of time on the deck in fresh air and with a view towards the horizon. Seasickness is just another form of motion sickness If you can consider it in advance in your cabin booking: Helping with seasickness (seasickness is also just a form of travel sickness or motion sickness) would help a cabin in the middle of the ship at about the level of the water surface. Here you feel the sea swell the least. Do you often feel sick during a flight? Above all, strong turbulence or the rapid movements at take-off and landing can disturb the equilibrium organ of sensitive people and put a lot of pressure on them. My tip: Try to check in online before the flight and reserve a seat in the aisle in the front part of the aircraft near the wings. Also, get up regularly from your seat and walk a little up and down the aisle, that too helps! Travel sickness: the right food and drink A light, low-fat meal before the ride, or before your flight and enough still mineral water to drink in between can also help you very well to avoid the dreaded travel sickness. Neither a heavy burger with greasy fries nor a completely empty stomach would be good conditions. Do not even grab alcohol or too much coffee. What is never really officially recommended, but always helps me personally, is a cold coke! Relaxation and distraction against the travel sickness What is your mindset about motion sickness? Do you sometimes have to worry about getting sick again before traveling? If so, then unfortunately that is not such a good condition, because you put yourself and especially your body under great pressure. It probably happens for that reason alone. Therefore try to relax and distract a lot before and of course during the trip: talk to your fellow travelers or other passengers. Listen to your favorite music and admire the beautiful scenery outside. Maybe you can even sleep? Even sucking a candy can help against mild nausea. Healing Ritual: A massage of acupressure points A relaxing action on your body also has a light massage of the acupressure points on your wrists. To do this, massage the inside of this with two fingers of your other hand in a circle for about a minute. If you realize that this is good for you, then repeat this small, pleasant ritual at regular intervals. Medicines for prevention or treatment Ginger or ginger tea A natural remedy for nausea during a journey is ginger. On the expedition ship in the Antarctic, the crew kindly gave me raw ginger slices to chew, which helped me a great deal personally. However, raw ginger is really hot in the mouth and not for everyone. As an alternative, you can also sprinkle the pieces with hot water and drink as tea or buy ready-made ginger capsules in the pharmacy or drugstore. Probably not quite as powerful in effect as raw ginger, but tastier in any case better: candied ginger. Useful tips for traveling with children: My idea here would be ginger sweets or even ginger biscuits. But the homeopathic Cocculus globules in the potency D6 (you get in the pharmacy) should help children very well against the discomfort in the stomach area. Peppermint, artichoke or almond Peppermint tea also has a calming effect on your stomach. So, if you’re feeling sick already, try using a cup of peppermint tea to help minimize the damage. And at least it tastes worlds better than raw ginger. Incidentally, you can also add the yarrow, artichoke or almond extracts to your tea. These also help against the dull feeling in your stomach. Vitamin B6 What I personally have not tried, but read again and again as a tip against the nausea traveling, is vitamin B6. You can also buy finished dragees in the drugstore or pharmacy. Vitamin B6 has a calming effect on the nerves of your organ of balance and can thus alleviate your symptoms. What to do if no natural remedy helps anymore? What are you doing, if nothing works and you are really sick? The medium of my choice in this case is Vomex A (compulsory texts). With its active ingredient Dimenhydrinat the orodispersible tablets (super handy for on the way, since you can simply let them melt under the tongue without water) act directly on the vomiting center in the brain and prevent and so relieve the nausea. Vomex A can / should be taken preventively about an hour before departure. So do not wait until you’re sick. But as mentioned shortly before, in this case too you will feel better soon. What I did not know by the way: The tablets are also an effective aid if you have spoiled your stomach in the holiday country by exotic foods! Are you also suffering from travel sickness and are you always looking for good tips against the unpleasant feeling in your stomach? Do you have even more tips that I have not listed here? I am looking forward to your comment here on my travel blog!

Maybe that would be interesting for you too?

Are you always looking for cool gift ideas for your travel enthusiastic loved ones at home? Here I have put together a nice overview with many suggestions for you Here are some great tips for your next long-haul trip, such as choosing the right booking class, if you’d like to increase the likelihood of a free upgrade to Business Class And here’s something about health on the road: My detailed packing list for the first-aid kit Do you already know my tips for surviving long-haul flights? So you transform even the longest flight in a nice and pleasant time on board Is suitcase packing also a red cloth for you? Are you always afraid to forget something important at home? With my extensive travel packing list, this never happens to you again

* This post is for the drug Vomex A. My opinion, as well as all the tips in the article, however, are as always my own and have not been influenced in any way. The post travel sickness – the best tips for a relaxed vacation first appeared on Good Morning World.

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#Travel

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radreactions · 7 years

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Romanced Companions react to slapping sole during an argument and sole just dumping them right there and then. (No forgiveness)

Just a heads up, potential DV triggers here guys and in case it needs to be said, DV is NOT okay in ANY circumstance. I’ll also be working on something romantic and fluffy to make up for the angst ;)

Cait – Sole got her so fucking mad that she simply lost control of herself, barely having enough sense of mind to not throw a punch but instead – at the last possible moment – transform it into a hard slap across their face that jerked their head to the side. She started yelling at them then, not fully realising what she’d just done until they pushed her aside and stormed out the room, yelling back that they’re relationship is over. Cait continued to yell profanity back at them, slamming the door behind them before sliding down the wall and burying her face in her hands, crying now because dear God she realised she’d just hit them. She just became every lousy piece of shit that she’d ever come across in her life and actually hit the one person who was good to her. Swallowing her pride, Cait rips open the door and sprints after them, intent on making things right. It’s no surprise when they don’t forgive her, when they turn their back on her and keep walking with hurt and resentment in their eyes. The pain in her chest hurts so bad that she turns to the only remedy she has left and drinks herself into blissful stupor, unable to live with what she’s done sober.

Curie – The argument was so futile, so trivial in comparison to the consequences of her own actions. She didn’t mean to, she would never ever mean to hurt the person she loved, but her body had a mind of its own and left the little synth just as shocked and surprised as Sole when her hand whipped across their face. Hard. “S-Sole I am so sorry! I-” She tried to apologize, reaching for them quickly only to recoil when they flinched, expecting another blow. She started crying then, her tears flooding her vision, making it impossible to see the hurt in Sole’s eyes as they spoke but regardless she knew it was there. She heard it in the roughness of their voice as they spoke the words that crushed her.“We’re done, Curie. We’re over.”She cried out, reaching for them but finding nothing but empty air and regret. How could she have done such a thing? How could she live with herself now that the person she loved more than science, more than anything in the world has left her?

Danse – He’s quite a physical man, Danse, so much so that it’s easy for anyone to tell his mood simply by observing his posture alone. If he’s unsure, he’ll shift from foot to foot and scratch absently at his jaw. If he’s troubled, he’s restless and can’t keep even a finger still for more than a few moments. When mad, he searches for something to hit until he’s calmed down some. But never, never did he consciously mean to slap Sole during their first real argument. When he realises what he’s done because of the hurt look on Sole’s face, it feels like the entire world fell out from under him. “Sole, I-I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean to strike you, I-”“Just shut up, Danse! I can’t fucking believe you! How dare you!” Sole rips away the hand he reached forth to soothe their stinging cheek, their eyes burning with resentment. “I’d expect to be hit by a raider, Danse, but never you. And never again. We’re over!”He knows he deserved it, he knows he was in the wrong but he just can’t let them walk away and leave things like this unaddressed. “Sole-”“Go away!” Sole’s yells were so loud and his grip so strong on their forearm, that some of their other companions had to come in to separate them because Danse just wouldn’t let go. He needed them to know that he didn’t mean it, that he loved them, that he wishes he could’ve snapped his own arm in two places instead of hitting them. Days, weeks, months, years later – even though the damage was well and truly done – he still keeps trying to make it up to them, to show how much he cares, because the alternative is not an option. He will never accept that they’re over. Not because of him.

Deacon – He’s never slapped anyone in his entire life. He’s punched before, karate chopped and even glove slapped, but never actually hit anyone with his palm before. So the stinging comes as a surprise to him, but the actual realisation that he’d done it to Sole shocked him even more. In fact, he’s so stunned, that he stares down at his hand speechlessly, the silence between him and his lover stretching for so long that he thought they’d stormed away.“How could you?” Sole hissed through a harsh whisper. “I thought you loved me. Or is that yet another one of your lies, Deacon?”He tries to speak, he tries to defend himself, but there really is no point in that, is there? He’d just hurt them. Physically hurt them. There was no coming back from that and he knew it. In response to his silence, Sole just scoffed and shook their head, before brushing past him and pushing open the door to their shared house. “We’re done.”Their words pierced his heart, the pain so sharp that he actually winced. He turned to stare at the closed door, feeling lost for the first time in a long time. Once again, he fucked up everything that was good in his miserable little life, and for what? A petty argument? Already he’s berating himself and can’t think of a single defence simply because there is none. “I…I’m sorry, Sole.”

Gage – It was not big deal to him, slapping Sole. He didn’t want to, but they wouldn’t stop yelling at him and he…he just acted in the way a seasoned raider veteran would instead of a doting lover. “Will you listen to me now, boss, or do I need to do it again?” The words tasted bitter in his mouth even while saying them, but he was so worked up that he didn’t consider how it would seem to Sole. He didn’t consider that it was a real dickhead move and would quite obviously lead to them doing what they did next.“Fuck you, Gage!” They grabbed the nearest thing and threw it at him, a rusted lamp that he easily swatted away while trying to follow them as they left the room.“Sole, wait minute, come back here. I know I fucked up, okay?”“Yeah, you did!” They spat, spinning around to fix him with a glare. The words were right on the tip of his tongue, so easy to speak for anyone else, but Gage? Having gone through what he’s gone through in life? No. He’s never said those words before, so it was incredibly hard to get them out even though he knew it was all that was needed to fix this, and that moment of hesitation cost him everything he held dear in life. “And I can never forgive you for that, Gage. Not that.”“Sole-” The slam of the door was final, like a gunshot. It may as well have been one, one that was directed at his heart.

Hancock – He rarely ever gets mad, let alone mad enough to strike out on anyone physically, but when he does it always revolves around something he cares about. Sole is most certainly within that category and even though he wasn’t necessarily angry at them during their argument, he got so overwhelmed with his frustration and the fact that they wouldn’t listen to him, that he slipped and before he knew it his hand had whipped across their face. “Oh shit, Sole! Fuck! That was an accident, I’m-”“Get the fuck away from me!” They growled, ripping their arm from his grasp. “How the hell was that an accident, Hancock?”He could’ve blamed it on the chems, on his nervous twitch, on some bullshit story that there was a fly in the air and his swipe at it inadvertently hit them too. But he loved them too much to even consider lying. “Sole, I love you. I’d never purposely do that to you.”“Fuck you, Hancock.” They whisper harshly. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”It had been seventeen years since Hancock cried. Seventeen years that he’d kept himself safe from a pain so sharp and unforgiving a bullet to the chest would seem appealing in its stead. But when Sole left that room, Hancock was reduced to tears. Not only had he lost the greatest thing in his miserable life, he’d lost it because of his own foolishness. Something that drives his chem addiction even higher in the coming days and months.

MacCready – The only drawback of being in a deep, meaningful relationship is that you get to learn not only the great and lovable qualities of the other person, but also their flaws as well and the things that really get under their skin. In arguments such as the one he was having with Sole, this is particularly hard because that kind of knowledge can be used against them and things can be said and done that cause far too much hurt than that warranted by the petty quarrel. It was a scene repeated too many times over in the history of human kind, where MacCready had reached his breaking point and wanted both of their yelling to just stop. It did though, when the loud slap echoed in the room, emphasised only by the deafening silence and the reddening handprint on Sole’s face. “Oh crap.” The colour drained completely from his face as he realised just how badly he’d fucked up. “Sole, I-I can’t believe I just did that to you, I’m so sorry I-”The damage had been done. Sole – with burning anger and hurt in their eyes – had just turned around and roughly pulled open the door to their room before MacCready could finish his sentence. “No, I can’t be with someone like you. I deserve so much better. Have a nice fucking life, MacCready.”“Wait-” The door slammed shut and he was left gasping for air, hand reaching for the nearest piece of furniture to keep himself standing. That just happened. He just fucked up so fucking badly and he can’t think of what to do next. Should he go after them? Should he give them space? What the fuck did he slap them for?! He near about drowns in guilt and shame, barely able to look anyone in the eyes because of what he’d done. His greatest fear from then onwards is raising a son that will do the same thing as his father, knowing that even though it only happened once, it was one too many times.

Maxson – Discipline is something he has a knack for instilling in people, whether it’s seasoned Brotherhood Knights or the still wet behind the ears squires. He hasn’t had much in the way of experience when it comes to romantic relationships and during the first falling out with Sole, he’d resorted to using what he already knew to try and take back control of the situation that was rapidly getting out of hand. When he realised it was most certainly the wrong approach to take, it was too late and his handprint was already reddening on Sole’s cheek. Silence stretched between them for a long time until Maxson finally spoke. “I’m sorry.”Sole glared at him, on the verge of tears but much too proud to let them fall. “You’re sorry? Really?”“Yes.” He affirmed and even though the words were the last thing Sole expected the stoic Elder to say, they weren’t enough to fix this. They were never enough to fix this. Maxson knew it himself and under the unwavering stance of his body, under the proud showcase of a man in his prime and achieving everything he believed in, lay a feeble man in love waiting for the guillotine to drop.“We’re done, Maxson. We’re fucking done.” Sole’s words sliced through him, ballooning out the guilt and self-hatred that had the Elder close his eyes against the sight of them leaving. He took in a deep shuddering breath and mentally recited the oath he’d taken as Elder, because now he’s left with nothing but the Brotherhood and even though it was once satisfying on its own, it is now barely enough to fill the hole left by Sole’s retreating back.

Nick Valentine – The amount of wife beaters Nick had put behind bars before the war was astounding for all the wrong reasons. He could never understand it, could never understand why or how a relationship could get to a point where one partner would strike the other. He always assumed it was voluntary, which made it so easy to lay the blame on the attacker because surely it wasn’t that hard to refrain from hurting the one you’re supposed to love. He never accounted for accidents. His hand moved so fast that he didn’t realise he’d done it until he saw the scratches on their face. Of course his right hand was the one to do it. The metal one. The one that could damn well have taken their eye out too. “Dear God, what have I done? Sole, are you okay? I promise you I didn’t mean-”Sole shoved him away roughly, small beads of blood smearing across their cheek as they wiped at where he’d hit them. “I thought you were different, Nick.” They hissed, tears mixing with the blood. “But now I see that you’re just like everybody else. A scumbag.”He wanted to reach for them, to stop them from leaving him, but let his hand drop to his side and stared woodenly at the door Sole had just slammed closed behind them. “You’ve really done it now.” He muttered to himself, disgusted. He knew Sole was too good for him, that he didn’t deserve them, and this only goes to prove the point. Even though in the days ahead he’d want nothing more than to win them back, he wouldn’t let himself be anywhere near them, because they were right. He was just a scumbag and maybe now that he’s out of the way, Sole can find someone better than him who’ll treat them right. Who’ll treat them better than he did, but one who couldn’t possibly love them more than Nick still would.

Piper Wright – She didn’t mean to slap them. She’d never, ever meant to do that. Not to Sole. But with how vigorous her hand movements were, how angry she’d gotten with them, she just…lashed out. The sound it made, the shock on their face, the silence thereafter. She just stared in shock, her hand still stinging from the force of it. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, panic taking over as she reached for them, only to be pushed away. “Blue, I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean-”“Get out.” They uttered harshly, a hurt-born fire in their eyes. “Get the fuck out. We’re done.”Piper left with tears in her eyes, panic flooding throughout her chest. How could she have done something like that to Sole? They will never forgive her now, after all, how could they? She just slapped them – the person that she loved! Piper would keep her distance despite her own misery, hoping that maybe, maybe they’d want to talk. Maybe they’d want to reconcile, accept her apology. Maybe she hasn’t well and truly fucked things up between them, but as days passed and Blue still hadn’t contacted her, Piper realises with heart wrenching clarity that it really was over and it was all her fault.

Preston Garvey – He didn’t know what came over him. Normally he has a pretty steadfast hold on his temper, especially when it came to Sole, but that day he’d had enough and his control slipped only momentarily. The slap was like a viper strike, hard and fast, and by the time his hand lowered to his side, the red mark on Sole’s face was already glowing bright. By the time he realised what just happened, Sole pushed him away and growled out that they were done, so fucking done and that they never want to see him again. Preston desperately tries apologizing, damn near begging for them to stop and listen and just please know that it was a mistake, but Sole just leaves him calling out to them. He locks himself inside a room somewhere private and just yells, tears in his eyes and guilt in his heart. How could he have done that to Sole?

X6-88 – The courser was a patient man, a man that didn’t believe in spousal abuse and so believed that he himself was not capable of something so deplorable. But that was before his argument with Sole, before his patience was stretched so thin that it snapped like an elastic band – only instead of it flinging harmlessly off into space, it was his hand that flung harmfully at Sole’s face. The force of it knocked them to the ground and had him standing over them, shock written plainly across both Sole’s and X6’s faces. “I-I’m sorry. I did not mean to do that, Sole. Please believe me.” He knelt down to help them up, but was quickly shoved away and glared at.“Get away.” Sole hissed, rubbing their stinging cheek. “Get the fuck away from me you bastard!”With what he’s already done, X6 has no choice but to oblige, leaving the room quickly and already chastising himself for losing control. No matter how much or how sincerely he apologises to Sole in the following days, he knows he won’t ever be forgiving and is left wondering to himself just how on earth he’s to live with the guilt and self-disdain.

#fallout 4 #companions react #cait #curie #danse #deacon #hancock #gage #maccready #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #x6-88

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ernmark · 6 years

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What do you think would have happened if Juno had gone with Peter in Murderous Mask?

I’m pretty sure this was meant to be a writing prompt, but I have too many feelings about this to put into fic.

(Honestly, I keep trying to write it into a fic, but it always leaves me so incredibly sad that I just can’t)

(I should note here that this is less meta than a weird mix of headcanon and character analysis. Your own interpretations may vary.)

Because Juno is head over heels for Peter, even after only knowing him for a few hours. They have great chemistry. They work so well together that they’re freakin’ drift compatible. He really, really, really wants to run away with him. The only problem is, it goes completely counter to everything Juno is.

So let’s start with that, shall we?

“My name is Juno Steel, and I’m a Private Eye.”

That’s his big identity statement. He says it in almost every single episode, and it’s the single most important part of who he is. In the galaxy that is Juno Steel, that’s the big glowing sun in the center. I’d argue that his duty to Hyperion City and his heroism are also part of that center-- a triple star system? Sure, we’ll go with that-- when one of those three points of light starts to dim, the other two keep him in orbit.

Now with that in mind, let’s look at Peter’s proposal in Murderous Mask:

You can leave Hyperion City behind; I’ll leave my powerful friends behind. We’ll sell the Mask and live a life of thrills and decadence across the Galaxy, always running, never looking back. We could have quite a time together, Juno. Who knows what kind of trouble we could cause?

The first thing Juno loses is his tie to Hyperion City. It’s the subject of most of Juno’s monologues, the mirror of his mental state, the thing he’s duty-bound to protect-- and as per Peter’s proposal, it would be left behind. That by itself would be a huge mental and emotional blow, but it’s not the only one.

“A life of thrills and decadence”; “what kind of trouble we could cause”; “always running, never looking back”-- there’s not a lot of alternative interpretations here. Peter is offering him a life of crime, and Juno can’t do that, not without surrendering the part of him that is a detective.

JUNO: I’ll help you stop this weapon. But at the end of the day you’re a thief, and I’m a guy who hunts down thieves, and that’s the end of it. (Train From Nowhere)

He’s willing to work with criminals, but that’s a necessity in a place like Hyperion City-- everybody’s a criminal here in one way or another-- but he’s still got standards. He’s willing to help Vicky protect her operation, but only so she’ll help him catch a murderer. He’s willing to help Peter steal the Egg of Purus, but only so it won’t be used on innocent people. On the scales inside Juno’s head, it still balances out on the side of Good. Juno strives to be a hero, and he punishes and berates himself when he fails to live up to that standard.

Sure, he could try for a Robin Hood kind of deal, but given Peter’s offer of “thrills and decadence”, that’s not what he has to look forward to.

I don’t doubt that he’d try to make their adventures line up with his moral code, but if he were to accept Peter’s original terms, that wouldn’t be possible. Peter loves Juno dearly and is willing to temper his behaviors for Juno’s sake, but that’s not his natural state. It’s honestly apparent every time he’s a main character in an episode, but it’s really hammered home in Train From Nowhere:

NUREYEV: (WITH LITTLE EMOTION; ALMOST BORED) Juno, turn away, please. I’m going to stab Mr. Engstrom to death now.

JUNO: What the hell are you doing?

NUREYEV: Something I’ll regret later. At top speed the the Ruby Seven should be enough to shatter that barrier, but… I’m afraid the paint will never be the same again.

JUNO: You can’t drive through those guards! They’re just doing their jobs! Quit it! You can’t kill them without… without a warning, or something!

NUREYEV: Juno! Quickly, shoot him! I can only hold him for so long!

JUNO (NARRATOR): Nureyev had Engstrom from behind. Pinned like that, Engstrom looked pathetic – an old man fighting an old grudge, a thief forgotten by everyone but himself. But Nureyev… Nureyev was the fox. Grinning. Teeth bared. A face like that had tasted blood before – and found it sweet as milk.

This isn’t new behavior, either-- Peter was casually murdering people by the dozen when he was sixteen years old, as we saw in Angel of Brahma. He just doesn’t think about human life or morality in general the same way Juno does.

Juno could fight for a moral standard-- and we know that if he did, Peter would make a token effort, at least. He does that, and we see a lot of it in Train From Nowhere: When Juno insists Peter ditch the car, Peter agrees to his terms; when Juno insists the security guards not be killed without a warning, Peter delivers a half-assed warning; he listens, though it’s very obviously only to appease Juno.

The big question is, would Juno even be willing to fight for it? (Hold onto this for a second, we’re gonna come back to it.)

Juno’s new guiding star: Peter Nureyev

Once again: by agreeing to leave with Peter, Juno would be willingly surrendering his duty to Hyperion City, his identity as a Private Eye, and the moral high ground that makes him a hero. With one decision, all three of his guiding stars are extinguished-- and by throwing it all away to run off with Peter, Juno would essentially put Peter at the center of his universe.

This puts an already emotionally unhealthy lady in an incredibly dangerous position.

We’ve seen what Juno’s like when he hasn’t solved cases in a while-- he swings between violent outbursts and listless inaction. He trades in his few scraps of self-worth in exchange for bitter self-loathing.

JUNO: You fell for it, Mercury, all the one-liners and the bragging and the swollen ego, you fell for it just as hard as I do. There was never a PI in Hyperion who made more messes per minute than me. Nobody. (Day That Wouldn’t Die)

JUNO: ...and if you’re really lucky, you might even see a Cyclops who thinks he’s a detective. My name’s Juno Steel. I’m a Private Eye… or I was, until recently. These days I’m a myth I never thought I’d live long enough to be: a has-been. (Kitty-Cat Caper)

This is all when he can still bolster his sense of self-worth by solving cases and saving people-- by things he can do.

But if you take that away and replace it with a person, suddenly Juno’s self-worth isn’t based on things he does, but of (his perception of) Peter’s opinion of him.

NUREYEV: I saw something in Juno Steel. Something impressive. And being that I myself am quite impressive that makes him impressive, too… but you? You’re a dog. (Promised Land)

This sort of thing is how people get trapped in abusive relationships. And no, Peter’s not an abuser-- he prioritizes Juno’s comfort and agency far too much for that-- but even a relationship with a loving partner can still turn dangerously toxic.

If Peter gets hurt on a heist, Juno will blame himself.

If something screws up and it was even remotely Juno’s fault, Juno will blame himself.

If the two of them fight, Juno will take Peter’s disapproval as evidence of his own worthlessness.

If the two of them aren’t fighting, but Peter just happens to be having a bad day of his own (or is lost in thought, or is slightly less affectionate than normal), Juno will take it as further evidence of his worthlessness.

So back to that question I asked before: would Juno be willing to put his foot down and demand that Peter not kill people? Initially, yes. But when he’s having a bad day, and his fragile sense of self-worth can’t stand up to Peter’s disapproval? Probably not so much.

Juno’s wit and stubbornness would slowly wear away, and he’d oscillate between a desperate need to please Peter, and overwhelming depths of depression any time those efforts fall even slightly short.

And meanwhile, those things that attracted Peter to Juno in the first place-- the moral outrage that Peter found so sexy, the defiance that he found so admirable-- would erode away into nothing, and the relationship would eventually fall apart.

Like I said, I don’t write fic about this sort of thing because it makes me too sad.

When I write about the two of them together, it’s generally in some vague future where Juno’s got a firmer hold of his emotional wellbeing, at least to the point where he can communicate his needs, and make compromises within a relationship without compromising his sense of self in the process.

#the penumbra podcast #penumbra meta #i guess?#headcanon #actuallyaghostthanks

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ellanainthetardis · 6 years

Photo

It’s Haymitch’s birthday! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

[ff] or [ao3]

53. 6 Months & 13 Weeks

Haymitch leaned against the kitchen’s counter, not quite able to shake the soft smile off his lips. Peeta was lighting the candles on the cake, struggling to light the candles on the cake rather, and everyone was teasing him. Johanna was merciless and Katniss kept poking him in the side every time he failed, which made the boy laugh and prevented the candles from being lighted any quicker. Annie was regularly telling them to let him work but Finn was finding the whole thing hilarious and kept laughing loud, accidentally blowing out the candles Peeta had managed to light so far.

As for Effie, she was standing next to the table, holding fast to April’s waist. It might not be very proper to make her stand on the table between cutlery and plates but neither he nor Effie really cared. Their daughter had recently discovered the standing position and now did little else. She used the crib’s bars to haul herself up and then she bounced there until she fell flat on her ass. Alternatively, she also used Snowball but since the dog never really held still, the falling happened a lot quicker. She couldn’t stand by herself yet but Haymitch was pretty sure it wouldn’t be long before she was driving them crazy by walking around.

She was growing up so fast…

“You know you could help.” Peeta grumbled, glancing at Haymitch over his shoulder.

Haymitch lifted both hands in a helpless gesture. He wasn’t about to try to light forty-four candles. In his opinion, they could have lost a few in there. Or buy two big ones shaped like four. The number of candles on that cake was actually a little embarrassing.

That morning, Haymitch had been woken up with soft but purposeful kisses along the length of his jaw. He had rolled with it before he had even been properly awake, not of a mind to protest when Effie was in that mood. She had given him a blow job that had had him counting stars on the ceiling for a long, long time. Then she had let him go back to sleep only to wake him up again mid-morning by placing April on his chest.

April had been holding a couple of colorful birthday cards that had been a little worse for the wear from having been crumpled in her little fist. He hadn’t realized before he had seen the cakes and glittery words that it had been his birthday. There were cards from Effie’s parents – the glittery one that had exploded everywhere and had him forced to take a thirty minutes shower to make sure he didn’t have any left on him – her sister, Plutarch and the Clarkes. He had started protesting when Effie had carried up a breakfast tray loaded with – almost burned – toasts, coffee and an assortment of jam but she had refused to listen.

All he had been allowed to do was cuddle with April and enjoy his day.

He had never been one to celebrate his birthday. The previous year it had gone unnoticed, lost in the whole drama of trying to decide what to do with the baby she had been carrying. He hadn’t minded, that suited him very well. He didn’t think he had celebrated a birthday since his family had been alive. The last time had been his sixteenth birthday probably.

And now, there he was, celebrating his forty-fourth.

He had been surprised but strangely happy when he had answered the knock on the front door to find his arms full of little Finn, his joyful scream of “Surprise, Uncle Mitch!” loud enough to deafen him. He knew it was probably Effie’s doing but he was touched Jo and Annie had made the trip from Four for him.

The kids had showed up late, flushed, a little disheveled and guilty-looking – a clear sign to anyone with eyes of what they had been up to and probably the only reason Effie hadn’t ripped their heads off for putting the whole birthday thing off schedule. They had had a nice lunch though. And then Peeta had dashed to his house to get the cake and the candles business had started.

It was a bit overwhelming, truth be told. The kitchen seemed too small for so many people but Effie’s suggestion to move the party to the dining-room had been shut down. Their laughter was loud, there were wrapped presents on the corner of the table – and the shiny paper had caught April’s eyes earlier before she had been distracted by the tiny dancing flames – as well as a huge coffee and chocolate cake. All of it for him.

It was a bit overwhelming and he was a little stunned.

He wasn’t used to being at the center of things like that.

Katniss’ poking of Peeta’s side was slowly but surely turning into her hand rubbing his thigh under the table and Haymitch hastily looked away. As innocent and encouraging as the gesture looked, he was too aware of how quickly that sort of things could turn into something else. He was happy the kids had finally made up but he still didn’t want to know more than necessary. He had learned too much about that side of their relationship from the distressed girl during their separation as it was.

Johanna was still goading Peeta despite Annie’s amused rebukes. He didn’t know what was going on there either. Had Jo come clean in the end? It was hard to say. He wasn’t sure Annie would have held a grudge in the first place.

His smile softened even more at Finn’s antics. The boy was perched on his mother’s lap and was bouncing in excitement.

In the end, his gaze traveled to Effie. It always traveled back to Effie. She was leaning forward a little to whisper in April’s ear. He watched her press a light kiss to their daughter’s cheek, her eyes sparkling with delight.

She was glowing.

This pregnancy was so different from the first one there was no comparing. The morning sickness had finally faded and she was just… She shone bright. Her hair was up in a sort of braided crown with a few wayward strands here and there. She was wearing a dress he had never seen before but he was pretty sure he had been there when she had bought the fabric so it must be one of hers. It was a long sleeves thing, with black and white squares and a red ribbon tied under the breasts in a pretty bow… She was showing. The dress only made it more obvious.

Her baby bump was small still but it was round and always firm under his palm. She had felt the flutters for the first time a few days earlier and the smile had been permanently fixed on her lips since. He couldn’t wait to feel it too. He knew it would be a few weeks but he couldn’t wait.

Everyone’s eyes had lingered on her bump a few times but, so far, nobody had commented. Asking Effie Trinket about her budging stomach clearly wasn’t clever and everyone in that room was too much of a survivor to make that mistake. Even Johanna.

He wasn’t sure why she had chosen such a revealing outfit though, not when she had dutifully been wearing loose dresses for the last couple of months.

The sapphire wings of the butterfly sometimes caught the light making it look as if it was fluttering on her collarbone. She wore the necklace he had given her on their wedding day as often as she could and he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t like the way it looked on her.

“Those candles are broken.” Peeta snapped. “I’m telling you!”

Katniss rolled her eyes and snatched the lighter from his hand. “Let me do it.”

“More your thing anyway, girl on fire.” Jo sorted.

Effie straightened and lifted April up. She must have sensed his gaze because she turned to him with a bright smile and he walked over without thinking twice about it. He stole a kiss just because he wanted one and then plucked their daughter from her arms, trying to hide his smirk because the pretty pink dress she was wearing was all creased and the flower on her headband was all askew. He let Effie fix that while he blew raspberries in April’s neck to make her laugh.

He loved his daughter’s laugh.

“Haymitch, blow the candles before they snuff out again.” Peeta called, distracting him from his shrimp and his wife.

“You have to make a wish, Uncle Mitch!” Finn exclaimed.

A wish…

He met Effie’s eyes and she smiled knowingly, her hand briefly resting on her stomach. Johanna’s sharp gaze followed the move. Seven’s victor then met his eyes with a raised eyebrow. He smirked. She rolled her eyes.

But she held her tongue for now.

He blew out the candles but didn’t manage to get them all in one go.

“Didn’t have to put forty-four.” he grumbled, nudging the boy in the shoulder. “Help a guy, Finn.”

The kid was only too happy to help him blow on the cake.

“What did you wish for?” Jo asked with that cruel spark of mischief in her eyes that told him he and Effie would get taunted about what they were hiding for the rest of the day.

“He can’t tell us or it will jinx it.” Annie chided her.

He had wished for everything to be always like this. Easy, light and loving. Everything he never thought he could have. Everything he would die to keep.

“Open your presents.” Katniss cut in, passing one of the them along while Peeta started cutting the cake.

He pointedly drew back Effie’s chair before going back to his own, plopping April down on his lap. The girl immediately reached for the silver wrapping with a delighted noise that made everyone laugh. He let her help unwrap his presents until she got bored with tearing up sparkling paper and got interested in banging her plastic toy against the table’s edge instead. He only gave it ten more minutes before she started tossing things around, expecting them to fetch them for her – Snowball was great at that game and he decided he would let the puppy back in from the backyard if it came down to that.

He got two rare old volumes from the Trinkets – or more likely Tadius – a portrait of him with April and Effie from Peeta, a pretty shell as big as his fist from Finn – who had hunted it himself, he was told – that would do a nice paperweight, a new hunting knife from Johanna who just shrugged and insisted it was never bad to be prepared, a chime made of small delicate shells from Annie and a very expensive looking new chessboard from Katniss. And by expensive, he meant expensive. The pieces were finely crafted out of obsidian and ivory and it was beautiful.

At his interrogative glance, the girl simply shrugged.

He figured that was her way of apologizing for going ahead with the book thing without asking him first. There was still some tension between them about that but they were both too stubborn to change their minds. She felt she needed to do it to give all those dead people justice and he still felt people would buy it out of voyeurism rather than genuine compassion.

“This is from April.” Effie declared, placing a small perfectly wrapped package in front of him. She had been waltzing around almost as soon as he had hinted she should sit down. She had been doing that all day, snapping picture after picture, still dedicated to recording everything. They would need new shelves for photo albums soon at the pace she was going.

“Yeah?” he teased. “Didn’t realize she was so good at wrapping things…”

The shrimp, by now, was trying hard to snatch a piece of his brand new chessboard set and he handed her over to Peeta who delighted in distracting her by waving her rattle around.

He made a quick job of unwrapping the present, trying not to mind the flashes of the camera. It was an oval mold of a very tiny hand and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, this is very cute…” Annie beamed.

Nobody could deny that. He looked up at Effie with a small smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.” She waved that away and fetched a bigger box from the pantry. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise but opened it quickly. A folded winter coat greeted him inside. Brand new, grey and warm. That must have been what she had been working on in secret in the study. “Thanks.” he said again.

She grinned at him and leaned down, wrapping her free arm around his neck and stretching her other arm so she could snatch a picture of the two of them.

“Your other gift will wait in our bedroom tonight.” she murmured in his ear. “For your eyes only.”

That meant kinky lingerie, he figured. Nice.

She giggled when he pulled her on his lap. He resolutely ignored the protests and the statements that really they were too old to behave like that and he kissed her, maybe a bit too deeply since they were in public but that day he didn’t really care. She bumped her nose against his cheek, nuzzled his ear a little…

They were all eating their cake now, talking and laughing, not paying them much attention… Haymitch chanced it and placed his hand on her bump, rubbing gentle circles on it with his thumb. She was already finishing the third month.

It was odd how time had seemed to trickle by so slowly for most of his life and now it seemed to go twice as quickly to catch up. Or maybe it was the difference between decaying away in an empty house and being surrounded by family.

Her hand covered his, pressed a little harder against her stomach. He could tell she was feeling the baby moving – or the fluttering of it – just by the secret softness of her smile.

He leaned in to kiss her again, really not caring what everyone thought about it. It was just a peck, a long tender peck that ended up with her ducking her head a little and biting her bottom lip.

“Shall we?” she asked.

He didn’t need her to clarify. They had been really good at hiding it so far. She had hidden her stomach under loose clothes or beneath her coat when they went out. Visits at the clinic could be justified by check-ups on his own health or April’s or even hers. It was the good thing with having such a young child, nobody expected you to do it again so soon. For now, not a rumor had surfaced in the District and they would rather keep it that way. It wouldn’t last, of course. The press would get wind of it eventually. But for now the jellyfish was still theirs only and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

But he also wanted to share the news with their family.

He was almost bursting with how happy about it he was.

Sure, he still had doubts about the whole thing, about how they would manage with two young children – if they could manage at all… And it was nothing to worrying about what they would do when they would be older. Loving the babies, taking care of them… It wasn’t the difficult thing. Even raising them… Between the two of them, he believed they would succeed in not butchering that up… But once they would be old enough to ask questions… That would be the real kicker, he figured. How to explain…

Panem was already so different from what it had been three years ago.

By the time their children would be old enough to understand, there would be a generation gap.

“Now?” he asked, just to be sure. He wasn’t the one who had wanted to keep it hush-hush after all. She had wanted it on her terms this time around and, since it wasn’t a luxury she had been able to afford herself with April, he wanted to give it to her.

“It is time, I think.” she hummed, entwining their fingers over her stomach.

The end of the first trimester meant she was far less likely to have a miscarriage. And they couldn’t keep it a secret forever. Not when her bump was making her dress look slightly round at the waist.

“Alright.” he smirked.

“Alright.” she grinned. She hopped off his lap and cleared her throat. It was only when Haymitch stood up too that the others stopped talking and eating to look at them curiously. Or, in Johanna’s case, more scowling than curious. Effie clapped her hands together once in hardly suppressed glee. “First of all, we would like to thank you all for coming today.”

“The trip down the street was a hardship.” Peeta joked, a little distracted by April who was very busy trying to steal some of the cake from his plate.

Effie briefly pursed her lips at the interruption but continued as if it hadn’t happened. Her hand slid into his and Haymitch squeezed her fingers.

“We have some news!” she exclaimed.

“Oh! Us too.” Katniss commented, placing her glass of water down to look at Peeta who was beaming at her, a little surprised and a little awed.

“Now?” the boy asked.

Katniss shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”

Haymitch had a good idea of what was coming and he winced a little. “Can your news wait until later? ‘Cause it’s kind of Effie’s moment right now.”

“Haymitch, how rude!” Effie hissed, whacking his arm with her free hand but still looking a little miffed. “Please, go ahead, Katniss. My news can wait a little longer.”

“But not nine months longer I bet.” Johanna muttered, low enough that only Haymitch and Effie heard. And Annie but Annie wasn’t really paying attention.

It was Peeta who spoke though, not Katniss, completely ignoring April who took advantage of it to splash her hand in the half eaten piece of cake and bring some to her mouth. It was mostly chocolate and it was melted so Haymitch let it go. Effie made a face at the dress getting a nice chocolate handprint but that was life with a baby.

“Well… Katniss and I…” Peeta announced slowly, smiling fondly at his girlfriend. “Let’s say we talked a lot and…” There was no stopping the beaming then. The boy beamed so much he might as well have powered the whole District in electricity for the year. “She asked me to marry her and I said yes.”

There were cries of excitement – well, Effie cried in excitement and Annie exclaimed – he and Johanna mostly remained there, unsurprised but pleased for their friends. Congratulations were passed around, hugs were given and, all the while, Effie kept a running commentary of what they would need to do, all the planning that needed to be made…

“We are not getting married now.” Katniss cut in with wide fearful eyes at the strength of their former escort’s enthusiasm. Effie’s eyes were very bright and she kept going from Peeta to Katniss to hug them in turn. “For now we’re engaged. In a couple of years we will get married.”

Effie blinked but took that in stride. “All the better for a very well planned wedding! And April will be old enough to be a flower girl by then!”

“The best we can hope for her in life.” Haymitch deadpanned, warranting himself another whack on the arm.

“Oh, hush, will you, you horrid man!” she scolded him. “My babies are getting married.”

“Your babies are twenty.” he pointed out, rolling his eyes.

“What does it matter?” she retorted and then dashed around the table to hug Peeta again. “I am so happy! So happy!”

Peeta laughed and hugged back for what appeared to be the hundredth time. “You will stand with me, Effie, right?”

Haymitch quickly stepped closer, outstretching his hands just because she seemed suddenly thunderstruck. He only had time to wince before Effie was crying. Well… Crying was better than fainting, he figured.

“It would be my honor! My absolute honor!” she exclaimed with such theatrics that Haymitch shook his head. The kids both looked a little taken aback by the strength of her reaction. She was always over the top but this was a little too much.

“You’re going to start bawling too if I ask you to give me away?” Katniss frowned at him suspiciously.

“Nah.” he joked. “Always happy to give you away.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Nice, Haymitch.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” he replied.

Meanwhile, Annie was trying and failing to comfort Effie who kept waving a dismissing hand and swearing she was alright even if she kept sobbing hard. Johanna had ended up with April on her lap and Finn clinging to her arm, the boy clearly a bit afraid of the scene she was making, not used to seeing her that emotional.

“Alright.” he loudly declared, taking hold of Effie’s shoulders and guiding her to a chair so she would sit down. “Hope someone got a good picture of that.”

She was a sight with her running make-up and Johanna’s snickers told him the camera hadn’t been lost for everyone during the last ten minutes.

Effie glared at him. “You are so awful sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” he smirked, taking the chair Katniss had vacated. The girl simply took his own seat without comment.

“You know I cannot help it.” she snapped. She hiccupped twice but the tears finally stopped because now she was getting angry at him. He lifted an eyebrow and smirked. Hormones sucked. But he had found ways around them. Except, given the way she was now glaring at him, that was dangerous. Making her furious just so she would stop crying was not a fun game. “You are insufferable.”

“Like you’re a piece of cake.” he snorted. “Speaking of…” He slid her untouched plate closer to her. “Maybe you should eat some.”

Chocolate went a long way into easing this sort of moods.

Except apparently not.

“I cannot eat this, there is coffee in it.” she hissed.

“Then why did you ask the kid for that one?” he sighed.

“Because it is your favorite!” she snapped, raising her voice loud enough that April started crying. She softened immediately and turned toward her daughter, snatching her away from Johanna and cuddling her close. “No, no, no… Mama is not angry, my darling… I am so sorry… I should not have shouted. Your papa was just being an idiot. Mama is not angry…”

In a practiced move, Haymitch spotted the rattle on the table, grabbed it and started waving it close to the shrimp’s head. It wasn’t long before the baby forgot to cry to try and catch the toy.

Haymitch sighed in relief while Effie peppered the child’s cheek with kisses.

It was only then that he realized the kitchen was deadly silent.

Everyone was staring at them as if they had grown a second head.

“What?” he scowled defensively.

Granted, they might have been acting a bit odd but…

“Alright, what’s going on?” Katniss asked, crossing her arms over her chest when nobody else dared. “The two of you have been weird for weeks. And you…” The girl pointed a finger in Effie’s direction. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“I do not know what you mean.” Effie lied, dabbing at her eyes with her napkin to catch the smudged make-up.

“Yesterday you cried because I broke an egg.” Peeta winced.

“I hate eggs.” she simply declared as if it made sense.

“The day before that you started sobbing at a cartoon on TV.” Katniss insisted. “A cartoon for April.”

“It was terribly sad.” she dismissed. “That cat almost ate the mouse. Absolutely not child-friendly if you want my opinion.”

“The cat never catches the mouse.” Annie offered. “It’s the running joke. They are kind of friends actually.”

Effie barely blinked, pretending to focus on wiping April’s hand a little more thoroughly than Johanna had done. There were a few spots of chocolate near her shoulder but Haymitch wasn’t going to point that out. He was pretty sure the dress was new and he didn’t want to upset her again.

“Well, I did not know that, did I?” she hummed. “Would someone care for more cake? No? Coffee?”

Johanna was almost dying of hilarity in her corner of the table. “Just spit it out, Trinket.”

She pursed her lips, gave Jo a brief glance and then wrinkled her nose. “This is Haymitch’s birthday and the children already stole his thunder with their news so…”

“I thought you were happy about it?” Katniss interrupted, a bit annoyed.

Peeta was more understanding. “I’m sorry, Effie… I know you went to a lot of troubles for today… We shouldn’t have…”

“No, no!” she denied, suddenly sounding horrified at her own behavior. “Oh! I am so sorry… I am happy for you. I do not know what got into me. I am not quite myself today.”

Haymitch sighed, covering her hand on the table. “Just tell them, sweetheart.”

“No.” she frowned. “It is the children’s moment now and…”

“They won’t mind.” he promised, glaring at Katniss. “Right?”

After all, he had tried to tell them to wait.

“Of course, we don’t mind.” Peeta offered.

“Yeah.” Katniss nodded. “Just tell us what the fuck is going on.”

“Not in front of the children!” Effie and Annie rebuked at the exact same time.

Finn looked up at that but it was clear he hadn’t heard much because he had been busy finishing Johanna’s share of cake.

Effie cleared her throat, nervously playing with her wedding band. “If you are certain you would not mind…”

“There are never enough good news.” Peeta smiled and then frowned a little. “It is good news, right? Because you haven’t looked that well lately and…”

Johanna rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, almost certainly to blurt the secret out.

“We are pregnant.” Effie declared before she could.

Haymitch wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he expected but it certainly wasn’t the grand deafening silence he got.

“You’re gonna have one every year or what?” Johanna taunted after a few seconds. “Must been at it like rabbits to…”

“Jo.” Annie said firmly and, miracle of all miracles, Seven’s victor fell silent. “Congratulations! I am so happy for you, Effie…”

That seemed to jerk the kids out of whatever spell they were under.

Effie stood up once more to receive hugs from Annie and Peeta. Katniss was more cautious when she approached him.

“Good or bad?” the girl asked uncertainly, watching him a bit warily.

A few years ago, he would have answered bad without a single moment of hesitation.

“Good.” he smirked. “Very good.”

Katniss relaxed and smiled, hugging him tight. “I’m happy if you’re happy.”

He accepted Peeta’s congratulations and sheepish apology about having stolen Effie’s thunder but let her handle the numerous questions their friends had for them. How far along was she? Did they know if it was a boy or a girl yet? How long had they known?

“I didn’t know you were trying…” Peeta commented at some point before flushing red at the implications. “I mean…”

“We… were not.” Effie admitted, flashing Haymitch an embarrassed look. “But we are happy all the same.”

“Careful, Haymitch…” Johanna teased. “They say good things come in three…”

“Isn’t that bad things?” Katniss frowned.

“Matter of perspective.” Jo shrugged.

“Do you already have name ideas?” Annie asked, bringing the conversation back on safer grounds.

It felt like hours to Haymitch before they were allowed to leave the table. Katniss and Jo immediately set off for a walk in the woods, Annie brought Finn back to the children’s house so he could take a nap and Haymitch seized the occasion to challenge Peeta to a game of chess while they had some peace and quiet.

As much peace and quiet as they could get with Effie insisting on clearing out the table and doing the dishes – something she was prevented to do both by him and Peeta. They took care of cleaning the kitchen while she put April down for her own nap.

They had finally settled in the living-room with the new chessboard and were admiring the pieces when she came back down and announced she was going to call her mother.

“Good luck.” he snorted.

She pursed her lips and huffed but still patted her hair in self-consciousness before striding into the kitchen like others would have marched on a battlefield.

He focused on the game but kept an ear pricked for whatever she was saying in the other room. She was silent a lot, which he figured to mean Elindra had a lot of news to impart, and it was almost fifteen minutes before he heard her clear her throat.

“Mother, I have some important news I wanted to share…” she declared. He let himself get distracted and that cost him a pawn. “No, it is not about my business. I… Yes, things are going well enough on that front. Only a couple of customers so far but the word is going around. No… Of course not. No… Yes… Mother…” He captured Peeta’s knight with a smirk. “Mother. My news? Yes. Yes, we received the card and the books. Haymitch was over the moon. I… No, I was not calling to thank you actually. I am sure he will get in touch with Father and do that himself. Yes, it went well. The cake was delicious, yes. No, my guests are not still there. Do you really think I would leave my guests to fend for themselves while I make calls? What kind of a hostess do you think I am?” A longer pause and Peeta walked straight into his trap. The boy never learned. “I apologize, Mother, I did not mean to snap.” she hissed through gritted teeth. “It is just I am trying to tell you something important.” Haymitch rolled his eyes at Elindra’s antics. Couldn’t she just listen for two seconds? Apparently not because it was another ten minutes of “Yes” and “No” before Effie cleared her throat again. “Yes, my news. Well… Mother… You are going to be a grandmother again!” It was silent for a moment and then Effie laughed in joy. “Yes, I am pregnant. Yes. Yes. No, not yet. Three months. Yes, we are really happy.”

“Checkmate.” Peeta said smugly.

Haymitch had to do a double take and narrowed his eyes at the kid. “Doesn’t count. I was distracted.”

“Still counts.” the boy shrugged. “Another one?”

He set the pieces again, grumbling under his breath, but he got distracted again halfway through when Effie walked back in the living-room and sat on the couch with a sigh, propping her legs up.

“Being pregnant is exhausting.” she informed them and then grinned. “Mother was enthusiastic! She is going to send up paint samples for April’s new room.”

“More painting.” he muttered. “Great.”

“For your daughter, Haymitch.” she reminded him. “You want your daughter to have a pretty room, don’t you?”

When she put it like that…

He wanted his daughter to have everything.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #april showers

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healthierhappier-me · 6 years

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Get To Know Me Tag!!

I tag @gethealthystayfit , @tropical-fit , and @zaya-fit :) have fun!

1. What is your full name?

simona! [no need for last names on here lol]

2. What is your nickname?

i never really had a nickname, but my friends tease me and call me simon sometimes...

3. What is your zodiac sign?

pisces (march 5!)

4. What is your favorite book series?

probably the Eragon series or maybe Ranger’s Apprentice? i love fantasy a lot

5. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts?

sort of? i keep bouncing back and forth and can’t really decide

6. Who is your favorite author?

this is an impossible question and i will never be able to answer it sorry

7. What is your favorite radio station?

magic 106.7! i grew up on it :)

8. What is your favorite flavor of anything?

probably either lemon or lavender or the combination of the two

9. What word would you use often to describe something great or wonderful?

amazing? i’m not sure hahaha

10. What is your current favorite song?

probably “all time low” by jon bellion just because it’s been stuck in my head for days oops

11. What is your favorite word?

probably cascade or mountain, unsure

12. What was the last song you listened to?

“the nights” by avicii!

13. What TV show would you recommend for everybody to watch?

FRIENDS FRIENDS FRIENDS FRIENDS FRIENDS FRIENDS ALWAYS

14. What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down?

anything disney/pixar, particularly “the emperor’s new groove” lol

15. Do you play video games?

i’ve played pokémon since i was 6 and don’t intend to stop just because i’m an ‘adult’ now :)

16. What is your biggest fear?

being forgotten for sure, as well as being less important to a person than they are to me

17. What is your best quality, in your opinion?

i’m quite a nurturing person, and i like that about myself

18. What is your worst quality, in your opinion?

i overthink things that don’t need overthinking and it puts strain on some of my friendships sometimes

19. Do you like cats or dogs better?

this is another impossible question to which my answer will always be both!

20. What is your favorite season?

currently craving summer but i’d say fall is my all-time favorite

21. Are you in a relationship?

yes!

22. What is something you miss from your childhood?

not having to worry about deadlines!

23. Who is your best friend?

a girl i met in the 6th grade who i’ve talked to more or less every day since then

24. What is your eye color?

brown!

25. What is your hair color?

also brown! exciting stuff

26. Who is someone you love?

my inner circle of friends

27. Who is someone you trust?

my dad

28. Who is someone you think about often?

my boyfriend (long distance relationships will do that)

29. Are you currently excited about/for something?

spring break!! finally a second to relax

30. What is your biggest obsession?

probably buying far too much makeup...

31. What was your favorite TV show as a child?

scooby doo or the magic school bus!

32. Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to, if anyone?

a couple of my best guy friends

33. Are you superstitious?

nope!

34. Do you have any unusual phobias?

i’m terribly afraid of needles to a ridiculous extent

35. Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it?

i love being in front of the camera but only if someone i like or trust is behind it!

36. What is your favorite hobby?

singing!

37. What was the last book you read?

my chemistry textbook :(

38. What was the last movie you watched?

big hero 6!!

39. What musical instruments do you play, if any?

i sing and play a bit of ukulele

40. What is your favorite animal?

either horses or sheep!

41. What are your top 5 favorite Tumblr blogs that you follow?

another impossible question! if i follow a blog it means i like it quite a lot

42. What superpower do you wish you had?

time travel/time control

43. When and where do you feel most at peace?

in the mountains!

44. What makes you smile?

other people’s success stories as well as my own

45. What sports do you play, if any?

i love to ski, and i used to swim competitively

46. What is your favorite drink?

tea! i have an embarrassing amount of tea honestly

47. When was the last time you wrote a hand-written letter or note to somebody?

the other day when i slipped a note under a friend’s door

48. Are you afraid of heights?

no, but i am afraid of falling

49. What is your biggest pet peeve?

loud chewers actually make me want to throw them out a window sometimes

50. Have you ever been to a concert?

yes, imagine dragons and pentatonix :)

51. Are you vegan/vegetarian?

no, though i do admire the lifestyle and what it stands for

52. When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?

a lawyer... don’t ask me why hahaha

53. What fictional world would you like to live in?

probably the world from eragon (blanking on the name) because uh.. dragons!!

54. What is something you worry about?

my future (financial, career, etc)

55. Are you scared of the dark?

only if it’s in an unfamiliar place

56. Do you like to sing?

yes! i sing quite a lot

57. Have you ever skipped school?

i’ve skipped classes, but not all of school

58. What is your favorite place on the planet?

the mountains in colorado, probably

59. Where would you like to live?

either the northeast (usa) or colorado

60. Do you have any pets?

i have two cats and have had quite a few fish over the years

61. Are you more of an early bird or a night owl?

it really depends on the day, either one

62. Do you like sunrises or sunsets better?

sunrises are more fulfilling to experience though i think sunsets are more vivid usually

63. Do you know how to drive?

yes, though i don’t have my license

64. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones?

earbuds!

65. Have you ever had braces?

yep, from 5th to 7th grade

66. What is your favorite genre of music?

literally anything in the ranges of pop/hip hop/alternative/edm/pretty much anything else

67. Who is your hero?

i don’t really have one, though i certainly look up to a lot of people

68. Do you read comic books?

i’ve read every single peanuts and calvin & hobbes comic :)

69. What makes you the most angry?

i really hate blatant ignorance and entitlement

70. Do you prefer to read on an electronic device or with a real book?

i love flipping pages so definitely real book

71. What is your favorite subject in school?

psychology!

72. Do you have any siblings?

nope, just me and the cats

73. What was the last thing you bought?

a pair of grey suspenders for my singing competition

74. How tall are you?

5′10″ (yeah tall i know)

75. Can you cook?

yes i love to cook!

76. What are three things that you love?

my friends/family, my pets, and mountains

77. What are three things that you hate?

donald trump, bigotry, and loud chewers

78. Do you have more female friends or more male friends?

it’s a pretty good mix i think

79. What is your sexual orientation?

i’m straight!

80. Where do you currently live?

i go to university in PA though that’s not where i’m from!

81. Who was the last person you texted?

my mom!

82. When was the last time you cried?

last night oops

83. Who is your favorite YouTuber?

jacksepticeye for sure

84. Do you like to take selfies?

all the time!

85. What is your favorite app?

probably MyPlate (food and exercise tracker)

86. What is your relationship with your parent(s) like?

it’s pretty good, i’m still financially dependent on them so it’s a big part of my life

87. What is your favorite foreign accent?

scottish accents are so cute honestly

88. What is a place that you’ve never been to, but you want to visit?

switzerland!

89. What is your favorite number?

when i was little i really liked the number 18 for some reason so i guess 18?

90. Can you juggle?

no but i’ve always been jealous of people who could

91. Are you religious?

nope! but people can believe what they’d like of course :)

92. Do you find outer space of the deep ocean to be more interesting?

i’ve always been fascinated by outer space because we have absolutely no idea what’s going on out there

93. Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil?

uhh sometimes i feel braver than other times, but overall i don’t think i’m particularly daring, no

94. Are you allergic to anything?

thankfully no!

95. Can you curl your tongue?

yes!

96. Can you wiggle your ears?

also yes!

97. How often do you admit that you were wrong about something?

i’ve been working on being less stubborn lately, but i still hate admitting i was wrong so idk

98. Do you prefer the forest or the beach?

the beach! i love the ocean

99. What is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you?

don’t look at everything you have to do in one big scary lump, take it one very small step at a time and it’ll help not get as overwhelming

100. Are you a good liar?

unfortunately (or fortunately) yes

101. What is your Hogwarts House?

gryffindor! pottermore certified :)

102. Do you talk to yourself?

not really, but i get lost in thought quite a bit

103. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

i’m much more on the extroverted side of things but i do enjoy time to myself

104. Do you keep a journal/diary?

not really, i think this blog is the closest thing to that

105. Do you believe in second chances?

it really depends on the context and the specific situation imo

106. If you found a wallet full of money on the ground, what would you do?

try to track down the owner or turn it in!

107. Do you believe that people are capable of change?

again, depends on the situation; certain facets of personality are unchangeable in my opinion while more superficial mindsets can be changed

108. Are you ticklish?

extremely (it’s kind of a hazard actually)

109. Have you ever been on a plane?

oh yes many times!

110. Do you have any piercings?

i have basic ear piercings but i’d like cartilage piercings as well

111. What fictional character do you wish was real?

baymax! or teto from the ghibli movie nausicaa

112. Do you have any tattoos?

no, but i’d like a small one

113. What is the best decision that you’ve made in your life so far?

choosing my particular university tbh

114. Do you believe in karma?

sort of? not to any huge extent

115. Do you wear glasses or contacts?

thankfully no i have fine vision

116. Do you want children?

someday, absolutely

117. Who is the smartest person you know?

probably my dad tbh

118. What is your most embarrassing memory?

the way i acted towards my ex right after the breakup. total regret and still cringing.

119. Have you ever pulled an all-nighter?

i try not to, but yes a few times

120. What color are most of you clothes?

black, blue, or olive green

121. Do you like adventures?

yes!

122. Have you ever been on TV?

i don’t think so?

123. How old are you?

18, about to turn 19 (in 5 days)

124. What is your favorite quote?

pretty much any quote from parks and recreation

125. Do you prefer sweet or savory foods?

strongly depends on my mood!

#personal #tagged #get to know me

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