#is this a suicide pact?

[mrssoapmactavish]

penny for your thoughts

content warning: mature themes, talk of death, gore, violence, mature language.

synopsis: flukey and ghost have a chat about the inevitability of the end. they make a promise that neither of them reach that point prematurely.

flukey is an oc.

in the words of her lieutenant, fuckin' hell.

flukey hadn't been this unfortunate on a mission since she was a rookie, back in days long past.

but alas, here she is, self-barricaded on the roof of a compromised building on a black-ops mission, a stab wound in her thigh placed in such a position that she'd need a bit of physical therapy and proper recovery to ensure she isn't limping for the rest of her days.

if she doesn't die on this mission, her mind curses, she'll be absolutely fucked.

a deep breath leaves her as she keeps one hand pressed against the make-shift bandaging she's used, the warmth of her life-giving liquid seeping out under her fingers, staining her skin.

"this is bravo 0-7, flukey, how copy?" there's the voice she's used to. the stoic tone of her manchester lieutenant, finally coming through. if there was a god, he'd be right stoked. "bravo 0-7, flukey, how copy?"

the aussie reaches for the walkie strapped to her vest, reaching and pressing the button, her voice much more strained than she would've liked it to be. can't be weak in front of your CO, eh? not when that bugger's taken more than a few bullets in front of ya.

"this is flukey, solid copy." is all she can get out, letting go of the button and letting out a deep exhale and a groan of pain, the last of the adrenaline having finally worn off, leaving her in nothing but agony.

"thought you were gone." ghost grumbles over the comms, making a soft laugh leave her trembling lips, fingers going to clamp around the button. "fuckin' nearly did, one of those cunts got me good."

there's a pause on the other end of the line, before a gruff little sigh leaves her superior. "keep those eyes open, fluke. give me some landmarks so i can find you."

"could just drop a flare, it's a fuckin' ghost town 'round here. what with how many squirters got dropped," flukey responds, a soft sigh leaving her as she feels her pulse start to fluctuate under the hand on her wound.

"that gives you away. landmarks, fluke." there's that tone again, the one that says 'i'm the boss man, listen to me or die.'

"shit, ghost, you're really pullin' me bum leg here," she jokes, though because it's met with silence, she sighs softly. "m'on the big skyscraper, one with the fuckin' thirty floors of windows. f'i look over the ledge, i can see a fountain, fuckin' city plaza."

another moment of her pained silence, struggling to keep herself both awake and grounded, until that voice chimes in; "was that so hard?"

"respectfully, sir, get stuffed." "glad to see you've got enough energy to get mouthy."

now that is funny, at least to flukey's blood-loss addled mind, too straddled with the impending possibility of permanent corpse status, so she laughs, unrestrained and pained, over the line.

"coulda used a big ol' shadow like you out there, lt. maybe it'd be a grave 'stead of this bullshit, got me bludgin' around. not sure i'll even make it outta this, sir." her mind is slipping away from herself, but her tongue is looser than ever– which is saying something, since she knows why bloody mactavish always gets her right hosed.

she can hear him in her head, right now. "flukey, if ye're gonna convince me you can knock back a few pints, ye've got to keep yer mouth shut 'bout it, steamin jesus, hen."

"you will make it out of this, sergeant. keep those eyes open. talk if you have to." ghost's voice is, quite honestly, the only thing keeping her fighting off that urge to just rest, close her eyes, let sleep swallow her whole.

"aw, ghost, y'gettin' all soft on me. not so much of an ankle biter now, am i?" "watch it, fluke. no one's here but us, no one'll know you died of strangulation." "takin' the piss, aye? here i was, thinkin' you an' johnny were a couple o'..." a cough interrupts her sentence, appropriately shutting her up, a satisfied rumble leaving the lieutenant because of it. can't have her insinuating he's getting busy with his sergeant, after all!

"aye, lt. penny for y'thoughts?" fluke speaks, voice soft and quiet, her eyes wandering down to the somewhat exposed skin around the gash, watching carefully as she eyes her fingertips turning a tint of white best left for ghosts made from sheets.

or the mask, her mind readily supplies.

"worth more than that," ghost grunts, entertaining her words, if not to keep her from retreating into the ending moments of her life, to see if everything really does flash before your eyes like they say.

"mm, how 'bout a pint then? pint for yer thoughts? and f'christ's sake, ghost, if i hear a joke, 'll fuckin' bury you out in the bush behind me house." she suggests, in no place or state of mind to be threatening the man willing to scale such a large building– likely not fully clear, to be plain– in order to save her.

"pint sounds fair," the man's voice rumbles, before he's quiet a moment. "entering the building. hang in there."

fluke isn't aware of how long her eyes close, though she's torn from the warm, loving embrace of death herself by the voice coming through her walkie.

"think you're not that lucky this time." "aww, bugger off." this is enough to get a rare, subtle chuckle from the lieutenant, M4 raised as he continues to sweep the building floor by floor, making his way up to the sergeant in distress.

"... think you're too young to be out here, dyin' on me." the man tells her, quiet honesty being enough to give the woman a small surge of confidence and keep her awake just a bit longer.

"so 've grown on ye, aye? cheeky. good on ye, finally gettin' in touch with your feelins', daft cunt." another laugh, this one bringing a ring of panic into ghost's mind, one that urges him to hurry the fuck up.

"think we make a deal, you and i." "yeh? what'ye want, my fuckin' leg? y'can take it, f'you get me outta here." "not quite. think we need to watch each other's back a bit more."

there's silence for a moment, flukey finally speaking up again. "sentimental. keep talkin'."

"neither of us dies out on the field. how's that for a deal?"

the prospect, especially when you feel so close to seeing your family up in the peaceful beyond, seems incredulous. though, even if it's a dying woman's wish, might as well humour him, one last time.

"...alright, sappy bugger. ye got yerself a deal." she answers, closing her eyes to rest again, the voice on the other line tapering off in the recesses of her mind, echoing like a bell in a clock tower.

it's not that much longer before her body, mostly limp, is lifted from the top of the roof by a rough brit who prays to a god long forgotten by him that the redhead makes it back to base alive enough that he hears about some shitty story of the outback.

[ot3]

to get the most of out ot3s you have to consider that they consist of smaller 2 person subdynamics where the third person is always in a weird and fucked up position of being a permanent voyeur to an interpersonal dynamic they are privy to but never a fully participant in. that whatever u have with them its not the same as what they have with each other, in a way thats equally intimate and alienating. yeah a throuple is fun when its a couple and their third but in an ideal world per 1 threesome you should be getting three somewhat volatile couples with their own dedicated third. and i think yoohankim #gets that.

[cabinetduo]

sunnys admin deserves an award or something bcs their understanding of their character is completely unmatched. that thing sunnys doing where bcs tubbo died she was talking to her rabbit, who was moon, and got upset at him for 'saying mean things about tubbo' is. first of all it's all set up so well but the emotional conflict is literally set up from the day we meet sunny.

She's violently hypersensitive but most importantly she has abandonment issues like no other. Every other second she's on screen from the moment we meet her she's begging her father not to leave her in any capacity clinging to him like a lifeline nonstop. When he leaves for purgatory 2 it devastates her to the point where when theyre saying theyre goodbyes as she heads to bed she can't even acknowledge him leaving as like a viable thing that's happening. tubbo apologizes that hes being dragged away and she goes "it's okay bcs your not leaving me pa"

When tubbo comes back and it's clear he values his own life less and less everyday sunny makes sure that after every morbid comment he assures them that he's not gonna die. he's not going to leave her anytime soon bcs she needs him. she says it so so many times. she needs him. Even outside of tubbo sunny clings onto what she loves hard with her "MY pas" and her "MY panadas" and her "MY mustache boy" I've said this before but she's so 'everything I let go of has claw marks on it' coded

So. When tubbo like, fully dies, ofc she barely processes it. she makes a cake at home all by herself and travels all the way to his corpse to share it with him bcs he's a mermaid like her Ma now. Except they know he's dead and all the empty promises of him promising no matter what he would never leave her fester in her so she handles it the way she handles most of her negative emotions. she separates them from her bcs theyre too big to handle and lets moon do it. She scolds him for saying mean things abt her pa who she loves more than anything but that doesn't stop her from feeling like he failed her, he abandoned her, he broke his promises. They're just a little baby :((

[starrysharks]

"it happens all the time, it happens all the time", a tautology of self-delusion - a one-way love affair that turned me into a weak rabbit

[dayurno]

i know it makes sense but nora said on twt that Kevin’s French would also be in the marseille accent and that. just. jean hearing his own accent reflected back at him always so just. hearing the people he knew and grew up around and finding even more home in kevin. even if it hurts. augh critical hit

to be quite honest with you if my only friend in life learned my mother tongue for me and actually had the guts to pick up my very own accent i would also be pathetically in love with him. if he had the accent of the people i grew up with and the children i met in school i would lose my fucking mind. nothing and no one in the world would be able to make me move on from this man. he’d need a restraining order. i would kill myself in front of h—ah wait.

[hunybody]

shannon and eddie diaz were literally going down hand in unlovable hand. is the thing. shannon literally hung on past the last exit and hoped it was already too late. and eddie hopes the black smoke carries him far away and he never comes back to this town again. and in this life he lies and tells everyone she was a good wife. and she dies. and he hopes they both die. and he hopes he cuts himself shaving tomorrow and he hopes it bleeds all day long. and she hoped that if she found the strength to walk out he would stay the hell out of her way. they were both drowning with no sight of land. she was going down with him. hand in unlovable hand

[codecicle]

i hope he knows he's not fucking funny <3

[ghostboyhood]

"lets make a pact.."

[gamergirlsex]

Letting a close friend be there at a meeting with a surgeon may have just led to the worst possible open secret among my coworkers for years

[mayasaura]

I am never going to forgive Cristabel for what she did to Mercymorn. Inflicted on her the same "cruellest thing anyone has ever done to you" that Gideon did on Harrow, but without the same pressures. No one was banging down the door threatening to kill them both. She didn't have to choose between watching Mercy die and dying for her. When Cristabel violently manipulated Mercy into lyctorhood, she did it with fore-thought. She planned it. Fuck her.

[youngestdaughtersyndrome]

The Panic in Needle Park (1971)

[gmanmedias]

LIE AFTER LIE AFTER LIE AFTER LIE, AND I EAT IT UP EVERY SINGLE DAMN TIME

⚔️ ⚔️ ⚔️

❤️ ❤️ ❤️

💿 💿 💿

(Late) Day 2 of @cocajimmycola ‘s event! (edit vers)

Day Two (Tuesday) : Webcore / Vaporwave

[cabinetduo]

so the vision is guys what it'd be is qtubbo losing his fucking mind trying to figure put the mechanics of this timeloop trying to figure out how it ticks and like obviously at first he's having the time of his life while he does it, like solving the mystery while his actions have seemingly no consequences are you kidding me? a dream come true for this guy but watching the people he loves die over and over again gets real old real fast then the real curveball comes when he realizes sunny is looping with him and how long has she been going by this by herself? how much has she seen? then he starts micromanage control freaking it out, losing his mind a little while also trying to keep shit together for his daughter and he's comforting her but he's constantly at his limit and like yeah

[itslilacmoon]

he's venomous now

[allthegothihopgirls]

cannibalism as a symbol of love in zombie apocalypses, where one lover has been bitten and the other safe. the latter who refuses to let the other be infected alone, and post-mortem allows the zombie to bite them as an act of binding, promising them to be reunited on the other side.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

was thinking abt how my ideal doctor/yaz is when they love each other only sliiiightly more than they hate themselves, but then i was like, you know what might be better actually? if they dont love each other at all

i mean think about it. it's easy. they cant. they havent, like, build a life together. they never had to. love is a promise they didnt make

what passes for romantic feelings for companions in the doctor i think generally is idolisation. yaz has definitely been idolising. depending on your take the doctor might also have been the object of her first queer feelings ever. shes unattainable in like every way for yaz. theres no future to imagine here. there never was. i dont think either of them ever assumed there would be either. theyve had their eyes on the finish line since the beginning

so imagine a reunion. yaz and 14. every barrier now lifted. the doctor no longer lives a life of running from one place to the next; no more being with the doctor means neglecting home. hes suddenly emotionally available too. and they both know,,,Everything. they both know everything theyve never talked about. they reach the finish line and crash over it, into each other, no one had plans for this. a mess

so time to build, right? this is everything they wanted, right? except, is it? they only know each other in extremis. two adrenaline junkies in shared search of a fix. two people unable to stop running, forcibly grounded. yaz has five years of unspoken grievances to air. the doctor about five thousand of unspeakable memories. this is two peas in a powder keg

the doctor attaches in extremes, with abandon, yaz only cautiously, with reservation. neither of them know how to do friendship very well. theyve spent years afraid of losing each other, do you think theyre gonna be able to tolerate being apart now? even if being around each other is pressing every wrong button like a novice pilot or one who never read the manual, and inevitably leads to arguments they both know are years out of date but cant stop themselves from having anyway?

their coping mechanisms might have been malformed but now theyre taken away. dont you think theyre gonna come up with something to replace picking fights with daleks? we've got ptsd à deux and nowhere to go. if they cant be helpful at least they can keep busy. picking fights with each other. having sex with each other, because hey we got this newfound queer sexuality we should try it out, right? none of this is quite right but we're not gonna stop to think now, are we? 

should we talk about the gender thing? oh but youre a timelord, billions of years beyond this petty human obsession. but, youre not. so why not obsess a little. rather this than the other stuff. and yaz likes you as a woman. and rose gets all this trans stuff. keep weaving them in because if you stop they might just fall out. of your orbit, the world, the universe, the story. you'll never see them again and you'll be all alone. again. better keep tying knots

how long until they realise this is worse than it was? how long before they can admit it to themselves? how many people to suggest, to one or the other, that hey maybe you guys should spend some time apart? go on vacation, find a hobby, get a job, talk to other people, give yourself a break. how many people to get snapped and yelled at because what do they know? what does anyone know? nobody does, nobody gets it. ryan and graham left, dan came in too late. nobody else lived their days. nobody could possibly understand whats between them. including them

it's yaz who tries breaking up, of course. takes too long to get there, but she would get there. eventually. the doctor gets mean, all "glad to be home?", all tooth and nail and you cant leave me i leave you, all scoffs and snarls, "we're not together, yaz"

"sure, whatever you say"

but if people stop watching doctor who kills himself. the doctor doesnt say this, of course. but yaz is very proficient in all the ways the doctor does not say things

"yeah well, survived it last time, so"

she doesnt clarify who. doesnt need to. the game of chicken never ended, only changed shape. who falls first, who realises first, who admits first, who stays alive longest after the universe ends. and now, perhaps, whos gonna reach for desperate measures first

place your bets