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quasi-normalcy · 5 months

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Actually, you know what? Ever since I learned that Ira Steven Behr signed that grossly unfair letter against Jonathan Glazer, I've been forced to kind of reevaluate some of my interpretations of things in Deep Space Nine.

Like Section 31. I was willing to suppose that it was always and only intended to be villainous. But knowing as I do now that the showrunner who included it is perfectly willing to turn a blind eye to genocide, I'm forced to wonder...was it critical? Was it?

Like, let's consider canon here. In "Statistical Probabilities", Bashir and the other augments calculate, in no uncertain terms, that the Federation can't win its war with the Dominion. Their model even accurately forecasts things that happen later in the series: the Romulans declaring war on the Dominion; a full-scale revolt on Cardassia Prime. The end of the episode kind of pooh-poohs their model, like, "Well you couldn't even forecast what Serena would do in this room" but like...(1) the premise is basically lifted from Asimov's psychohistory concept, which works on populations rather than individuals, and (2) there's even a line of dialogue in the episode saying that the models become *less* uncertain the further you go in time. And indeed, the Federation ultimately wins the war not because any of their assumptions were wrong, but because there was another factor that they weren't aware of: the Changeling plague. The plague that had, of course, been engineered by Section 31 to exterminate the Changelings.

So again you have to ask: *was* this critical? Or was the real message that a black ops division willing to commit genocide is necessary to preserve a "utopian" society, no matter how squeamish it makes a naïve idealist like Bashir? And yeah, the war is ultimately won by an act of compassion, but only *after* Bashir sinks to S31's level by kidnapping Sloane and invading his mind with illicit technology. So...is this really a win for idealism?

And then we have the Jem'Hadar. They're a race of slave soldiers, genetically engineered to require a compound that only the Changelings can give them. By any reasonable standard, they're victims. And yet, the series goes out of its way, especially in "The Abandoned", to establish that they're irredeemable. You can't save them. Victims of colonialism they may be, but your only choice is to kill them, or else they--preternaturally violent almost from the moment that they're born--*will* kill you. And of course, I've long assumed that this was just a really unfortunate attempt to subvert what had become the standard "I, Borg" style Star Trek trope where your enemies become less scary once you get to know them, but like. I would say that there's pretty close to a one-to-one correspondence between this premise and the ideology excusing the mass murder of children in Gaza.

Or the Maquis. There's this line at the start of "For the Uniform" where Sisko tells Eddington that he regards the refugees in the Demilitarized Zone as being "Victims of the Maquis", because they've kept alive the forlorn hope that they would ever be allowed to return to their homes and...Jesus, when I write it out like that, Hello, Palestinian Right of Return. [The episode of course ends with Sisko bombing a Maquis colony with chemical weapons, though it is somewhat less objectionable in practice than I'm making it sound here].

And you know what...I get that DS9 is a show that's intended to have moral complexity, and to be kind of ambiguous in a lot places, and not to give you simple answers and so on. And I'm *not* trying to do the standard JK Rowling/ Joss Whedon/ Justin Roiland thing where a creator falls from grace for whatever reason and people comb through their oeuvre to show that they were always wicked and fans were stupid for not seeing it earlier or whatever. But I will say that these things hit different when you know that the series was show-run for five seasons, comprising every episode that I've just named, by a man who would go on to sign his name to a letter maliciously quoting Jonathan Glazer out of context to drag him for condemning an active genocide. And given that I've been a fan of DS9 for basically my entire life, this is deeply unsettling to me.

#long post #star trek deep space nine

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divinesolas · 2 months

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Flowers | The Series | Chapter 17 | Surprise!

Summary: You receive even more unexpected visitors and receive some upsetting news that you are not looking forward to.

Jacaerys Velaryon x Dunn!Reader

a.n: GOD SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT !!! i really appreciate all the comments and promise to get around to responding to any ive missed !! hoping to have this story done by the end of the month <3 im already working on the next one as i write so dont worry about another long wait i swear.

series masterlist

taglist ! (open)

@newestobsessionishere @alexa554 @th3b4tm4n @hazzapotter @claire-loves-music @tssf-imagines @melsunshine @majoso12 @brain-empty-only-draken @urmomsgirlfriend1 @emmalvei-blog

You had thought that would be the most exciting thing to happen, Joffrey would stay for awhile before he returned to his duties in the eyrie and then everything would go back to the sort of normalcy you had before.

Yet your parents received a raven that had your stomach turning inside out. “We are to go to the Highgarden's to welcome prince Jacaerys and his soon to be wife lady Cassandra Baratheon for their engagement tour, Highgarden is apparently the first stop.” Your father ripped the letter for your mothers hands and skimmed it over himself, “They are asking all the families to arrive and bring an engagement gift? this is ridiculous!” Dorothy, the head maid of the house scoff as she placed a plate of food on the table. “The nerve of them.”

You have lost all your appetite.

you measly push around the food on your plate while everyone around you erupts into boisterous chatter. "after that man publicly humiliated my daughter? they dare ask this of us? the nerve!" "maybe she could fake illness and wont have to attend the festivities?" "i can already see their snug faces as they look upon her ugh i refuse to attend such an ordeal."

When your hands slam on the table all chatter seizes and all eyes turn to you where you keep your head down towards the table. wordlessly you walk out the hall and the others in the room look at each other concerned.

you find yourself mindlessly walking through the fields as you attempt to catch your breath. it is fine. you were simply not chosen that is all. and now he wants you to attend his stupid engagement tour? for an engagement to a women that is not you? you fall on your back and stare at the sky in disbelief. this was ridiculous almost outright shameless to point you cannot believe it was his idea. Cassandra never did like you maybe this was her way of trying to stick it to you and laugh in your face.

your face grows sour at the idea of having to watch her snarkily brag with jacaerys on her arm you were going to be sick.

You had thought you were finally making progress moving pass your feelings for the prince but if anything they have only gotten worse. you think of him far too often these days especially with joffrey and trisk here. a part of you wonder if he thinks of you too. its a foolish thought, he had made his choice and there was nothing else to do but to live with it and move on.

You close your eyes and fall into a light sleep unable to continue thinking in reality and far more interested in living in dream land where he laid with you as well. hes there waiting for you, the familiar flower fields of your homeland being a comforting sight and with him sitting there you fell all the more better. He strokes your cheek gently when you open your eyes to greet him, a comforting smile on his face. “my love.” your eyes fall closed as you grab his hand and press it closer to your skin. “wont you look at me?”

Harshly you shake your head, though the limbo you meet him in is merely a dream the pain of reality still stings at your skin. “you will not even allow me to hear your voice my love?” you squeeze your eyes shut as he caresses your face. “it hurts.” his other hand comes up and plays with your hair, “its alright my love just look at me.” you fight with yourself for a few moments before your eyes flutter open and your heart aches. He looks as beautiful as ever, smiling down at you with moon crested eyes.

“there you are.” you hate the way a smile creeps up on your face and you especially hate the way his grin grows at that. “i hate to see you so upset.” this has you huffing and you try to sit uo but he keeps you firmly in his lap. “you have no right to say that to me.” his face falls and he cups your cheek as you turn your head away from him. “im sorry.” “then why did you do it?” your fictional prince has no response and thats because you have no clue as well.

as if he is a brush of air he disappears as you willed him to and sit up with your head in your hands. he had basically told you he wanted to marry you, scared off any other suitors you could have had gods you were even in a courtship before he wormed his way in and for what? nothing.

You force your eyes open and suddenly you are right back to reality where you huff as you shakily stand taking a deep breath as you realize the sun is much higher in the sky. how long had you been out here? you decide you should head inside before you freeze at the silence around you.

the fields especially this time of year are bursting with people tending to the flowers for the seasons prep but you can’t see a single soul out there. You wonder where everyone could have gone, maybe you are still dreaming. you walk back towards the castle once taking one last final look around before heading inside and you pause.

now you know this must be a dream because why would three dragons be sitting on one of the empty fields not too far from your home. you must be seeing things.

Yet when you walk into the hall you quickly realize you are not making things up or seeing things as when you pinch your arm the group of three stands before you and you feel your stomach plummet. “just the lady we wished to see.”

you find yourself bowing as your mind races trying to understand what was going on, “my princes, princess.” “just the lady i was looking to see!” “you honor me my prince.” lucerys eagerly walks over to you and grips your hands in his. “i have missed you. things ive been grim without you.” Despite how confused you are by his presence or even his words you force out a smile, “You honor me.”

You have no clue what else to say or what else to do. Every single pair of eyes in the room are looking upon you and you look down at your hands as you mind tries to make sense of this mess. thankfully aemond grips lucerys back and tugs him away from you. “he is as eager as always do not mind him lady dunn.” You’re more than thankful for the saving, you weakly grin at him as you still try to make sense that members of the royal family now stand in your familys main hall.

your eyes drift towards your parents who seem just as bewildered and lost as you are. You use the opportunity of lucerys and aemond bickering with one another to slip around them to go stand next to your parents who urge you next to them. “what is happening?” Your mother tilts her head down towards your ear and your eyes widen in horror at her words.

—

jacaerys realizes his life ie much quieter today. As he roams around the halls he feels as though he is missing something but he has no clue what. He’s done all his studying, hes sat through the unbearable meeting with cassandra and his mother about the wedding preparations, he did his afternoon training what was missing?

He tried not to think about most things these days. Simply allowing life to pass around him while he keeps a mundane routine but today was truly throwing him off. When he walks into one of the common rooms he stops before cassandra and aegon who seem to be chatting about something at the table but the two stop when jacaery approaches, cassandra even looks embarrassed that jace had walked in on them but he does not acknowledge it. “my sweet nephew! finally done being broody today?”

He rolls his eyes, why does he even bother but as he turns to walk away he freezes and turns back around. “Where is everyone else?” Normally the rest of his siblings and lucerys would all be sitting around with him but only cassandra is there awkward sipping at her chalice full of what he only hopes to be tea.

Aegons grin turns sinister and jacaerys feels a pit of dread grow in his stomach. “oh did you not hear? they left to the reach just this morning. you know, for your tour.” Jacaerys stares in confusion as aegon takes a happy chug from his wine. “the engagement tour.” “i know the tour you speak of.” Aegons chuckles fill the room as cassandra looks back and forth between the two men. “why ever would they leave now? the tyrells are no where near ready to host.”

“oh no. theyre not staying with the tyrells.” jacaerys head turns in confusion while aegon only seems to be happier the more and more this conversation goes on. “did they not tell you? the dunn’s will be hosting them for our stay in the reach. Theyve gone to go hang out with our good friend lady y/n.”

Aegon cannot stop the roar of laughter that bubbles up in his throat at his own words and he folds over in his own fit of laughter. Cassandra looks bewildered by this news and sits up straight. “house dunn? truly? i thought flower hall was a rather, small place.”

Her real feelings about the matter and the state of house dunn and its hall very clear in her expression and tone. She looks over at jacaerys too worried about his reaction to only see a blank look on his face as he looks upon the two of them. Jacaerys rapidly blinks for a moment before he slowly opens his mouth. “how pleasant.” after which he spins on his heel and walks out the room swiftly.

Aegon pouts as he watches jacaerys leave, clearly he had been hoping for a better reaction out of the crowned prince. aegon however turns back towards cassandra with a smirk. “bah who cares about all that though right? lets go back to what we were talking about.” A blush creeps up on her face as aegon leans towards her the conversation they had just had with jacaerys already gone from her mind.

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popjunkie42 · 1 month

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Chains

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Chapter One: Of Lovely Monsters

Summary:

"And yet I found myself deciding that if you took his hand, I would find a way to live with it. It would be your choice."

I sipped from my wine. "And if he had grabbed me?"

There was nothing but uncompromising will in his eyes. "Then I would have torn apart the world to get you back."

-A Court of Mist and Fury

Lucien steals Feyre away from the safety of the Night Court as she and Rhys train in the Illyrian Steppes. Winnowing her to the Spring Court and Tamlin, Feyre must contend with the consequences of leaving while held against her will.

An ACOMAF Chapter 47 divergence.

Thanks to @witch-and-her-witcher and @foundress0fnothing for beta reading and giving me amazing advice!

It’s my birthday and…

This is a lil dramatic divergence I’ve been working on for far, far too long. So now it’s your problem!

Chapter under the cut or Read on AO3.

Lucien moved us, again and again through the fabric of the world, his face straining and sweat dripping from his forehead. I screamed and wrenched against him as we winnowed further and further south, barely glimpsing the changing seasons as he pulled us through the courts. I could only tell the distance by the air against my face: a brush of heat, the blast of an icy wind. The misty mountains of Illyria trailing further behind us as he dragged me south.

I knew where he was taking me. My body screamed as I clawed and fought, useless now against his iron grip, and the further we got the more I felt that something inside me had turned brittle and was ready to break.

Rhys. Rhys. Rhys.

Where are you?

My skull was a prison, my mind trapped within. Just moments earlier it had been free - scanning the little blur of impressions from birds and rabbits in the woods, reaching out to listen, shivering from the brush of the other mind that nuzzled against me, and asked me and played with me.

I felt for that bridge, for that gentle pulse around my chest, once so tangible I thought I could feel it as strong as my own heart.

But there was nothing. I was empty - hollow. All my magic had poured out, and Rhys along with it. No cunning amusement, no smiles or violet eyes teasing at the edges of my mind.

No Illyrian warrior to draw me back from this hell.

As we whipped through the courts, I knew with growing horror what awaited me at the end of this journey. A scream was building within me and I didn’t know if it would come out through my mouth or simply keep building inside me until I burst.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Ten Minutes Earlier…

I didn’t hear the dripping of melting snow, the rush of the creek, or the howling of the wind. Not against the rush of blood in my ears.

Lucien. He found me. But –

“Feyre,” Lucien whispered, his red hair like a beacon in this black and white forest of ice.

In a blink, we weren’t alone. Spring Court sentries dressed in black and covered in weapons banked him on each side.

“Lucien. You shouldn’t be here.” The rushing river inched closer to me as I risked a single step, my stomach churning as he followed me forward, his boot crunching through the frozen top layer of snow.

His hand extended to me. No weapon in his palm, but he didn’t need one - now that I had trained my own powers, I could feel his own thrumming under his skin. The flesh of my arm prickled in warning. I wondered if the icy winter of this place would dim him, or if he could still set the forest ablaze, as I had with Autumn Court fire just yesterday.

“Put down the bow, Feyre. I’m here to take you home.” His voice was soft, strangely gentle.

“Don’t touch me,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt.

My mind was churning like the river, my thoughts a frantic blur against the blood rushing in my ears. Lucien. How had he found me? And Tamlin - gods, was he here? I haven’t used my powers in battle yet - what if someone gets hurt? What if I’m not ready? Rhys - he had to be close - would the High Lords rip this forest apart?

As if in answer, my shield dropped that small space we opened for each other, a tendril of my dark power spearing into the air.

Rhys! -I shouted into the void, just as the red paint stroke of Lucien folded into nothing. So quick I didn’t even take another breath of the cold Illyrian Steppes before his warm hand was on mine, and he had snatched me away into the space between worlds.

When we appeared again, we were still in the Steppes but somewhere higher - the air colder, the fog thick in the air.

I was going to scream, I was going to tear at him, but before I could even think, my power was coiling and twisting under my skin.

Lucien - my friend, whose life was in my debt three times over, had taken me. Was dragging me back - to him. The full length of Prythian wasn’t enough to escape it - this rot in the Spring Court, that gave them over to this haughty entitlement, this feeling of possession over me…

I swallowed the cold air into my lungs, letting the ice and panic hone my senses. With an exhale I threw my mind out to the forest like a swift wave, my body seeking his.

Where are you?

The grip of Lucien’s hands on my wrist was crushing. But my bones and joints shifted under his grasp as my fingers elongated and claws began to form, dark like black onyx. Fangs sprang to my mouth and I wasn’t even sure what I was turning into, just that I was in danger, I was angry and I was going to explode. Lucien wasn’t paying attention, was scanning the forest desperately, panting with exertion as I raised a clawed hand in the air.

“Fuck!”

But he was more prepared than I - using his grip on me to pull my body forward and off balance as he dipped to the ground and rolled out of my stumbling reach.

My jaw was widening, bones were popping and transforming in odd ways that probably should have been painful, but I wasn’t aware of such things. Anger burned through me and I felt my canines scrape against my lip as I roared, roared.

On the ground, Lucien turned pale as he scrambled backwards in the snow.

“Holy Mother,” he whispered, and threw something into my face.

Blue powder exploded against my cheek as the small satchel burst. Blue powder down my lungs like sharp metal dust, scratching and burning deep into my chest.

Whatever bones and sharp edges I was growing winked away in an instant, like a candle snuffed out. I didn’t feel the snow as I pitched forward, coughing and choking on the powder and the sudden breathless snap of my power disappearing within me.

In between the rasping coughs, I felt a silence, a cold and empty room within my mind - not a shielded space of mine, but a void of nothing.

Lucien gripped my wrist firmly as I coughed and sputtered, reaching over and over again inside of me for the power that was now gone.

“What did you do?” I screamed, the powder burning in my lungs.

“You’re not yourself, Feyre,” he said, breathless and shaking. He held my arm like a vise but kept me at the edge of his arm’s reach. “This is to protect you as much as me.” Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he didn’t sound entirely convinced. He was as tense as I had ever seen him - scanning the white and black landscape around us, a subtle glow coming from him, trying to pierce through the fog.

“We’ll get you free of him, Feyre,” Lucien whispered now, like we were being watched. I desperately hoped we were - imagined deathly black wings and piercing violet eyes descending on us through the haze –

The air around me whipped away into darkness as Lucien winnowed us from the Steppes.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

When we landed in Spring, on the cobblestones in front of the manor, Lucien and I collapsed.

He was on his back beside me, chest heaving, gasping for air.

It couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes.

Birds were singing in the forest beyond, the sounds becoming clearer as my breathing slowed. A warm, gentle breeze blew over us. A peaceful spring day, a mockery of the fear and anger burning inside me like a forest fire.

My muscles shook and I heard my quiver of arrows clatter against my back.

She didn’t want me to rely on my powers alone, that gentle voice echoed back at me.

I had been human, when I first walked these paths and up these stairs. No powers or even decent senses to speak of. Ridiculous, how much I’d come to rely on them.

Now I had two Illyrian knives strapped to my thighs.

In an instant they were in my hands, and I leapt onto Lucien with a snarl.

He barely caught my arm in time and my shaking limbs fought against him, pressing forward, the knife in my hand shaking above his head.

“How dare you!” I screamed, spittle flying into his face.

“Tam!” he bellowed. Even without my powers he struggled against me, my knee on his ribcage, my sweat dripping onto his pale strained face. “Ow, Feyre, Cauldron, stop –”

Bruising hands wrenched my arms and legs into the air, restraining me. Someone loosened my fingers one by one until the knives clattered to the ground as I thrashed.

I scented him before I saw him. Grass and rain and roses.

My body froze, my heart stuttering. A wave of something cold and prickling traveled down my skin as the sentries set me on my feet in front of him, my arms still in their wrenching grip.

Tamlin stood, rooted to the ground at the foot of the manor. His face had gone white, his eyes wide and blazing as he looked at me. An outfit of green and gold, a blur of muscles and power.

“Feyre,” he said gently. As if he had run into me unexpectedly, as if I was a ghost haunting the woods. As if he hadn’t sent Lucien and his sentries to take me.

The sight of him after so many months - his face so familiar yet so estranged, made anger and terror mix together into something sickly and thick in my body, dripping down my stomach like acid.

The last time I was here, I had been a prisoner. Locked inside until the walls choked the breath from me.

“No,” I whispered, my limbs beginning to shake. Moments ago my body was buzzing, humming like a panicked animal. Now I was frozen. My mind went black except for the steady chant inside of no no no no…

“Let her go,” Tamlin growled, that High Lord power of his command compelling even me to tremble. I was set down gently on the stones, my knees giving way, every part of me shaking.

Tamlin stalked towards me, the beast within him cautious, his eyes wide. An apex predator, his eyes never leaving my face.

“Feyre,” he said again, striding closer. “You’re back. You’re free.”

You’re free, Mor’s voice whispered in my mind.

Something in me jolted and I scrambled back from him on the cobblestones. I didn’t get far until my back was up against the legs of one of the sentries. I hated this trembling fear in me. I was a wolf, I was the Cursebreaker, I was made from all seven courts. But here I was nothing more than a trapped rabbit.

The High Lord kneeled in front of me, extending a hand, palm down, so similar to Lucien in the woods. Tentative, calming.

Like I was a feral creature to be tamed.

“What have you done,” I said, swallowing down a sob in my throat.

Finally, his eyes left me and flickered to Lucien, now standing behind him, his hand wary on the jeweled hilt of his sword.

“We found her in the northern woods,” Lucien replied to his silent question. “I winnowed, but her powers…I had to use the faebane.”

A muscled jaw clenched tightly, as Tamlin looked back at me. He was thinner than I remembered him - the lines of his muscles under his tunic stark, his cheekbones sharp against his sallow skin.

“Was he there?” he asked Lucien, still staring into my face.

“I didn't see him, but he was close. We got out before he could interfere.”

I needed my powers - my strength, my weapons. But not even my body would obey me now.

Come find me, come get me

“You’re home, Feyre. We’re going to help you,” Tamlin’s voice waivered, and he swallowed thickly. “He’s in your mind, but we’re going to get him out.”

Something cracked inside my chest. The birds were singing and a sweet scent was in the air and I was terrified and alone. Hot tears were running down my cheeks.

“No, he’s not,” my voice was saying, but I was far away. “He’s gone.”

Tamlin furrowed his brows at me. I could see the pain on his face, in his forest green eyes. As if I was hurting him.

He stared at me for a long moment, as I willed my tears to stop, as I willed them to turn to waves of the ocean or daggers of ice. But no power echoed in my blood, my bones. I was an animal, caught fully in their trap.

The High Lord of Spring reached for me and I felt the scrape of phantom claws on my skin, the bruise from Lucien’s grip still burning onto my wrist –

“Don’t touch me!”

Tamlin’s face was white with shock, and something like devastation. He froze before me with what seemed like an eternity.

“Bring her inside,” he finally said.

And I was hauled up by my arms and carried back into the manor, prison bound once more.

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#acotar #acotar fanfiction #Feysand #Feysand fanfic #ACOMAF #ACOMAF divergence #Spring Court shenanigans #Feyre kidnapped but not in a fun way

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hachimitsu-rofu · 11 months

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Title: Random HCs Pairing: 「 Shikamaru x GN.Reader 」||「 Choji x GN.Reader 」「 Shino x GN.Reader 」||「 Naruto x GN.Reader 」「 Kankuro x GN.Reader 」||「 Kiba x GN.Reader 」 Plot: Some random relationship headcanons, reader is gender neutral as possible Warnings: N/A | Please notify if needed in ask format ’’’ ’’’ ’’’ Word Count: 3,087 Read Time: 11 minutes, 14 seconds ’’’ ’’’ ’’’ Author’s Note: Well I haven’t written anything in a hot moment, but here’s some headcanons I’ve had in my drafts for a while. If something needs to be tagged let me know! Anyways, please enjoy!

════════════════════════════════════════════

「 Misc. HC’s 」

Nara, Shikamaru

☀ It’s already known he would be the best nap buddy. But you know what’s even better? Is he willingly, and I mean willingly! Stays up for you when you need him or want him to. (Although he’d much rather wrap himself in a blanket with you and call it a day.) But yeah. That five hour long play you want to go to? He’s up and paying attention the WHOLE damn time. Maybe complains a little, but he’s up! You need a study buddy? Well yeah- duh, he’s gonna help you with it. Though he will probably request a kiss here and there as payment though. Sparring partner? Also yes. Although he’ll try to end the session faster just so he can reap the reward of cuddling sooner.

☀ He is faithful but uh- he still does quite a bit of rubbernecking out in those streets. Man has eyes and he will be looking. Won’t touch the displays. So that is something if you’re wondering. He doesn’t feel very bad about it either because he doesn’t think much of it- and why should he if that’s all he’s doing. It’s not like he’s his old man who was actively partaking in his window shopping.

☀ When he first introduces you to his parents his mom is excited. Finally someone other than the Nara men she had be dealing with for so long! Not that she doesn’t love them that is. But when he sees how you and her interact he knows he made a good choice in calling you his. Which just inflates his already giant ego more.

☀ He doesn’t talk about it, nor does his own father, but he does have a mild form of depression. It sneaks up on him and he doesn’t ever know what to do with it or himself. In fact it makes him more down trotted since he knows how to handle or do so much else. What he does know is that when he’s in this slump and you are beside him. He will have his face in your chest (even if you don’t have much), a hand interlocking fingers with you, and a quiet breath. In short you are a peace for him during the storm. Allowing him a momentary retrieve.

"Tsk.” Shikamaru was ready for the session to be over with already. He wanted to curl up into a ball with you in bed. Yet here he was, bent over the kotatsu table with you, helping you study for this irritating exam. He knew you didn’t really need his help even though you insisted on it. Glancing up with his charcoal black eyes, Shikamaru looked at you and sighed. He didn’t want to admit it, he liked that you wanted him around so bad- made him feel needed even if it was for something so benign. That small smile creeping up on his face that he didn’t even notice until he could feel the dimples form against his cheek.

﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊

Akimichi, Choji

☀ He would ditch spending time with Shikamaru to hang out with you if he could. Like he likes his best friend, but you? Opfh, he loves the fact you indulge in him for all that he is and could be.

☀ Yeah sure he loves to eat and cook with you-- but do you know what else he likes to do with you? Video Games, man has bought so many co-op games just to play them with you! When you two are both able to you’ll usually end up having at least one date night that consists of all game playing! Mixed with popcorn and sodas and also a dedicated wind down movie session for when the games get too heated or you guys get burnt out. Either way you usually end it at that.

☀ He likes working with his hands. Likes being able to mess with things physically. That’s why when he finds out there’s a pottery class he takes it up and makes you some cups, plates, and little knickknacks. If you have a favorite animal he’s making it, favorite color(s) will be used as paints, like plants? Babe guess what you got a new pot! Cooking? Man be building you plates and what not.

Let him show you he loves you with whatever he can build.

☀ Please let this man do your hair. Please, oh PLEASE, let him do your hair, (If you have any that is.) You won’t be disappointed at all with the magic he can weave. Man can do all kinds of braids and styles like it’s second nature! It kind of goes along with the whole- working with his hands thing. If you got curls (Such as 4C hair for example of this) he will give you some of the best hair care he can. When it’s time to wash out those curls, man is right there either to keep you company or to do the washing for you. He’ll wash them, dry them, and even willingly stand around for those long hours putting them into box braids. He’s committed to doing them right and does still try to be nice about it. If you often wear scarves/hijabs he’s going to try and learn how to knot and tie them into some faux hairstyles. He thinks he almost has a faux mohawk style down- but it’s still rather messy. But he does try! If you sport facial hair. Man is also going to help your trim and care for that too! He’ll help you scrub your face, put in that beard oil, and brush out any knots you might have! Plus he’ll help braid them to boot! If you don’t have hair then that’s also alright. Man will instead help you with your facial routines and scalp care. (If you shave it, he doesn’t get a single nick on your head that’ s how dedicated he is!) You’ll be delighted at the care he does with putting your lotion on your face. He will sneak a kiss in though.

☀ If it’s raining he’ll try to focus on putting the umbrella on you even if you insist that he keep it on him. He doesn’t care if he gets a cold from it, he just wants you to be covered. Besides, if he gets sick maybe you’ll take care of him. ☀ If you want to give him a treat that isn’t food related then a back massage would do best for him. You’d be surprised by how tense his muscles can get.

"AH! Y/N! Guess what!” Choji announces as he practically bursts through the front door with a bright eyed smile. Holding a delicately wrapped boxed to his side, bow and all. Only to present it to you like a child on their birthday receiving a gift themselves. “Go on! Open it! Take a look!” Practically beside himself with joy as he watches you take it from him. As if seeing you happy made him happy.

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Aburame, Shino

☀ He takes his time with introducing his partner(s) to his friends and family. He wants to be secure in knowing that whoever he’s bringing around will actually stick around. So if you meet his father in a proper introduction at home with the dinner and everything. Just know, he is very serious about you and he would hope you feel the same way too.

☀ Will usually seek you out to have lunch with you when he’s able. He likes having his meals with you so you two can talk about the recent events of the day and unwind a little before getting back to it. Although if either of you are unable to, due to schedule conflicts or what not. He’ll ultimately send one of his insects to just hang around you- with your knowledge of course.

He finds tracking his partner without their knowledge to be quite a disrespectful thing to do. You should trust your partner after all.

☀ He isn’t the type to argue even with his petty instincts kicking in. He’ll only actively argue with you if the stakes are high and even then he’ll try his best not to let it get to him. He loves you and wants to handle things like adults.

☀ He will suggest you two do a class of some sort together! Just to have more quality time together despite any busy schedules either of you may have. Personally he’ll point out a sewing, knitting, or possibly some jewelry making. Just because that’s something you two could easily do at home as well! Not only that, if you do decide to make jewelry together you could always gift each other something to wear. Something you can keep on you to always know the other is there for you even when your thousands of miles apart.

☀ While he isn’t much for PDA (Public displays of affection) he still tries to keep a hand on you. This usually is touching the small of your back or hooking his pinky with yours. It’s stealthy and easy to hide, something that could be brushed off. This isn’t to say he’s embarrassed of you, he just get’s flustered easily when other’s point out his soft spot. Which is you.

Sitting under the umbrella covered garden table set, Shino fixed his usually closely held sunglasses onto his face. He was just enjoying the warmth of the spring sun on his, unusually, exposed skin. Allowing you to see the traces and trails of the small almost invisible scars of his body. It almost distracted you from noticing what was in his hands. A needle and thread, looping some beads together. The beads were in a colorful array with flowers and beetles. Looking up from his creation he caught your eyes. Smirking at you from the side of his closed lips.

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Uzumaki Naruto

☀ As we know the boy is actually good about taking care of plants! One could even say it’s a hobby of his! But what they don’t know is how many he grows just to gift to his partner. Yes, yes he grows his own favorites too. But if he knows his partner has a particular favorite- well then he is going to be growing a few bundles of them in his small apart. Just so he can have a piece of them around when they’re not available and something to gift them later when they come by. Although your smile is far more than enough of a reward for him to take in return.

☀ He’s a board game man and no one can convince me otherwise. Y’all got a closet full of them and come every Thursday night when you are both at home in the village you two will play. Sometimes you invite friends, other times it’s just you and him. It doesn’t really matter what you play together! He’s just happy to be with you.

☀ Yes, when he was younger he wasn’t the best at keeping tidy. But as he’s gotten older he’s gotten much better about it. Especially when he found out that you had a particular scent you liked to smell. It might be a little pricey but he’s going to grab the candle or the fabric softener, whatever it is. Though admittedly the first time he does this he might have gone overboard and nearly knocked himself out from the singular smell taking up the small, cramped space. After that he tried to keep it to one thing at a time. Changes it from item to item or space to space.

☀ Out of the Konoha boys Naruto is the best dancer. He knows how to move his body in tune with a beat. Combo that with his talk no jutsu and one could say he is a smooth criminal on that dance floor.

”Oooiii!” Blonde hair on end as he straightened his back out, arms crossed behind his head pulling his grey tee-shirt above his midriff only to fall and hide that golden trail once more. He had been sitting there on the cold hard floor. Papers scattered all over the small table before him. “Can’t we go get Ichiraku now? My eyes are about to fall out from all this stupid paper work.” He groaned, only to perk up and lean into the hand that found it’s way into his hair. Maybe it wasn’t so bad if it meant some affection.

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Kankuro

☀ Please let this man do your makeup. (If you do wear any of course. If you don’t, he’ll probably ask you at some point to let him try and put some on you. For practice reasons of course.) PLEASE. He’ll be so delighted, and chaotic, when you finally let him attempt it.

☀ He doesn’t look it but he is the type to find a copy of your favorite book and read it. In private of course. He doesn’t let you in on the fact that he now owns a copy, that he’s read every line that he could over and over again until he memorized it completely.

You won’t know it until he’s slipped in a line you yourself know by heart.

☀ Will puppy dog eye you with love when you’re not looking. He doesn’t even notice it. But he falls in love with you a bit more and more the longer you’re together. He’s the guy that will realize after YEARS of being with you that he loves you. That as time has passed as you two are holding hands as you walk through the market place it suddenly hits him how much you really do mean to him.

☀ While he’s not the marrying type his life and yours would be completely enwrapped in one another’s without the legality of it all. What is his is now yours. What is yours is his. You need not worry about his loyalty as he is all yours. Now if it’s that important to you he will propose and you’ll have the whole wedding and cake and what not. But just know. He doesn't want or need some silly paper to let you or others know he’s yours and you’re his. He just needs you in his home to share the good moments, the bad, and any others you’re willing to share. But also take note, his puppet will be in the front row somewhere.

☀ He likes to kiss the back of your neck when you sleep. A soft smile on his lips as he enjoys the feeling of you stirring underneath his hands. Something about the quiet of the room and you in his arms makes him so at peace. He can honestly say in those moments that he must’ve done something good to deserve you.

Kankuro tossed the water that pooled in his hands up and onto his face. Clearing up the debris of now shaven facial hair off with the leftover shaving cream he had applied earlier. Once down he grabbed the maroon colored hand towel, patting his face dry and further wiping anything off to ensure a clean canvas for his toxic face paint. “Hey dork! Hun’! BABY!” He shouted across the apartment to garner their attention. His head peaking out from the bathroom door frame to see them do the same from the living room. A look of bemusement written all over as his lips spread wide into a grin. “Chicken butt.” He snorted as they rolled their eyes and went back to what they were doing.

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Inuzuka, Kiba

☀ When he brought you home to officially meet his mom and sister. The man, well boy to them, tried so damn hard to tell them not to embarrass him in front of you. Practically threatened them not to do or say anything because he didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of you. They both chuckled and agreed. But what did he do when he brought you in? Tripped up over his own two feet and actually fell face first into a wet kibble bowl. Man is his own circus. But ultimately he is your clown.

☀ He’s a little insecure at times so watch out when he does get jealous. Because it’s a flip flop from being wildly accusative to wholeheartedly distant. Although if he see’s someone trying to hit on you. He’ll rush up right behind you, wrap an arm around you, and make it known that you and him are a serious thing. He knows it’s not attractive of him to do this. He’s gotten better about it the longer your relationship has gone on. It’s just that deep unsettling gut feeling he gets that maybe you’ll up and leave him without even a single note. Once they’re gone he becomes somber but quickly tries to pull it off by acting like the hot-headed idiot you love. He just doesn’t want to lose you.

☀ If he was a dog breed he would be a German Shepard, fierce and loyal but one of the more dramatic breeds out of the K-9 family.

☀ He and you will be getting matching necklaces. He needs it like the ring on your finger you’ll eventually be getting. Because, one might be shocked, he actually does want to settle down. Will he force you to have a wedding? Not at all, but he will be a bit heartbroken over it. It’s a big celebration of you two being together and officially tying your families into one after all. So if marriage isn’t for you he will at least ask you to wear a necklace of the Inuzuka clan marking.

"But babe!” The Inuzuka whined as he gripped his partner’s middle close to his face. Rubbing his nose into their clothes, catching their scent as he inhaled deeply and let out a loud disrupting huff. “Tsk,” His tongue clicked to his roof with an aggravated toss of his head onto their lap. Loosening his hold on them with a dramatic flair as he slipped onto the ground next to Akamaru. Who was none too please with his partner’s antics. “I want to go with you, what if someone tries to hit on you and whose gonna make you laugh like I do?” Kiba was being ever the silly dramatic at their friend’s night out. Not meaning any of it in a toxic manner, but more so to make his love chuckle.

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#naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto uzumaki x gn!reader #shikamaru nara x gn!reader #shikamaru nara x reader #choji akimichi x gn!reader #choji akimichi x reader #shino aburame x reader #shino aburame x gn!reader #kankuro x reader #kankuro x gn!reader #inuzuka kiba x reader #kiba inuzuka x gn!reader #kiba inuzuka x reader #naruto reader insert #gn!reader #naruto: shippuden reader insert #gn!reader x canon #canon x reader

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yannaryartside · 2 months

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Sydney is also trapped in the freeze response.

She is permanently on the brakes. Like Rooster in Top Gun

Let me explain. (Spoilers for top gun maverick)

The character arc of Rooster in the movie revolves around the fact that he is always stuck on “defensive, preventive flying” in the sense that he lacks the initiative to make the risky decisions that are necessary in combat scenarios. The root of this issue is obviously fear, because his father died on someone else’s choices, and he doesn’t want to make a decision that could cost someone’s life.

I am starting to think Syd may have the same issue. I was reading a post about Sydney’s inability to make a decision on the partnership agreement (I can’t remember now I will tag it if I find it).

But the op expressed very well how Sydney has basically been offered the opportunity she has always dreamed of (Shapiro's offer was better but came in later). Still, she postponed the decision while she played the resistance game the whole season against Carmy’s antics. It's like a boxer trying to fight the distance. The conversation she had with Luca in the last episode about “a friend you went through a battle with” seems to connect with this idea. Then, in the end, she has a panic attack and thinks about the people she cares for at the Bear, how they have grown, and the battles they have endured.

I am going to say something that may be controversial: I think Syd has not grown significantly since she came to the Bear. Or, to put it in another way, she has not reached the version of herself that can make it in this industry on her own. The version that could conquer the obstacles of the plot that are designed to change her. There is a reason we don’t see a new version of her in comparison to when she came to the Bear for her first day.

She has taken on new responsibilities and has conquered them. But I believe she has not shown us anything that was not already inside her. She did not change like Richie (that went from unreliable to indispensable and caring, specially with her) or Nat that accepted the restaurant being a good thing for her family and herself, or even Fak, Marcus and Tina, that once thought of themselves incapable of the things they have accomplished.

Whatever beliefs Sydney has about herself that pull the ultimate brakes for redefining herself, she still has them.

She is and has been for a long while a patient, honest person that extends grace to others. And because they were given accountability, support and understanding, people around her were able to grow. That is what the flashback is about. She made a difference. She built something, and yet, nothing seems to feel solid for her.

I wonder what all of this could mean

The brakes analogy

There is plenty of analogies about driving in the show. We have Donna crashing her car on her family’s home, the dream of Cicero about driving out of control and crashing with Carmy’s dad in it (there is something there). Claire's reckless driving, the mentions of her being an adrenaline junkie in some aspects (she used to shoplifting, her job). Like a comparison to people that live life like reckless driving (addiction and other issues).

Meanwhile, Syd was a professional driver. She has a tattoo of her mothers car in her back. She described what “crashed” her business as “going too far, too fast” She even drives Richie because he got his license suspended (reckless behavior). Sydney is perceived as reasonable, mesaaured and reliablee. A good driver (metaphoricaly), but…

Is the show trying to tell us that she is a person who may have a hand in the brakes too often, in the sense that she may freeze in a moment when acceleration is required? In creative careers, you often have to take risks, and you will fail most of them, but what is she a fraud to lose this time? What has she been afraid to lose this whole time?

She even acts like “the brakes” of the plot in moments of chaos. She asked Tina to slow down and completed her task on Doors, and does her own, putting the pace of the kitchen in a “under the speed limit”

She makes Carmy slow down and stop his spiraling thoughts. Yeah, she is the brakes if the car, but she applies them too much on herself. Hope that makes sense.

#just a thought #the bear #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear meta #carmy x sydney #carmy the bear #sydney x carmy #sydnet adamu meta

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charliemwrites · 9 months

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Seen first on Charlie’s server:

offering childhood friend Simon your last name because you don’t want him to have to keeping using the one his cunt of a father passed down. You were the one by his side as a child, witnessing the aftermath of his father’s rage, wiping away the tears that sprang from Simon’s eyes from the toxic mixture of pain, despair, and anger, and you were the one who made him feel safe throughout it all. A part of Simon wonders if he would have been able to survive it all without you, the rest of him answers “of course not”. Throughout the entire time, you gave Simon so much happiness that he felt he needed to keep going, while you were filled with so much love for this boy with a crooked nose that matched his crooked teeth and hair that had way too many cowlicks for how straight it was that you started to feel overwhelmed by it. Back when you were kids, you didn’t fully understand what names were and what makes a family, so you just promised that he would always be a part of your family, because that’s the only way you knew to show this suffocating love you held for him. But now you’re older. You had been torn apart from one another, in the violent end to his family and his reflexive guilt that even outsiders knew to include you in that destruction. When everyone else was telling you that Simon Riley was dead, you knew that he was alive, because you knew Simon Riley, and Simon Riley would crawl through hell, would bend time and space to his will just to return to you one last time. No grave would truly hold Simon away from you, and since your heart is still beating in your chest instead of rotting inside you, Simon Riley must be alive. And he was. And you were right. The grave they tried to keep him in was nothing compared to the thought of you. You were the only thing that carried him back home. He was nothing more than a madman searching for salvation in the arms of his savior, searching for where he had long since abandoned his heart. With his family gone and his mind in ruins, the love he held for you seemed to be the only thing he had left. So he came back to you. Just like he always will. And the two of you were together once more, just like it always should’ve been and always will be if the two of you have anything to say on the matter. He may no longer fully answer to his name, reborn as “Ghost” to everyone else, but he is still Simon Riley to you. And that grates at something in you. After all he has been through, after all that has been done to him, Simon deserves to have a name that shows he is loved, deserves to live without attaching himself to the piece of shit that was his father. That man has no right to a legacy, no right to continue to haunt Simon through his last name.

You sit Simon down, and ask him how he feels about his name, if it is a weight that is dragging him down or a badge of pride connecting him to his late brother’s family and his mother. He’s confused by it, because while you guys talk about everything (looking at Charlie’s mention that Ghost tells reader literally everything about his ops, even the most confidential of information), you don’t really talk about names? It seems weird? He gives a wishy-washy statement, nothing really of substance and asks why it matters, and that’s when you tell him the truth: that since the moment you met Simon Riley, you knew he was going to be the most important person in your life, and you were right. Truly, you never had any other choice but to love him, in that he was, all that he is, and all that he will me. Your heart set itself on him, and decided that it would take no other in his place. You had seen every part of Simon, even the parts he tries to hide from himself, the sides he thinks makes him a monster. But you still love him. And if loving a monster makes you monstrous in turn, then you would gladly turn away from the light and stalk the shadows. Because you love Simon Riley for everything that he is, not what he is lacking or what he could become. You may not be rich, you may never be able to give to Simon what you feel he is owed from the world, but you can give him something: a new last name. Yours is there if he wants it, a name that his father never touched, never soiled. A name that was given to him all those years ago in the promise of giving him a family as kids. It’s not perfect, your family has its flaws and drama, but it is given freely to him and to his family. Should he take it, you’re more than willing to save up to get new tombstones for his family, to posthumously give them sanctuary from that damned last name.

You tell him this can come with or without the ring and ceremony, that your love for him is all-encompassing and can be read in whichever way he wants to, and he finally shuts you up. He is crying silently as he kisses you, his heart so full of love for you that he sends his prayer out to any God or Higher Power, and thanks them for you. The best thing in his life.

Hopefully, one day, his wife.

Beautiful and brilliant

#I’m literally just here to put this into the world #because it’s wonderful

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thrandilf · 2 months

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okay. for the first time in my life I'm using the #tdp critical tag because I have some things to get off my chest about s6 and I desperately need to focus on an exam for tomorrow and can't and idk I feel slightly out of my mind/wondering if this really is just a me problem but like

this season felt kind of sparse to me regarding character interactions outside of duos they wanted to focus on/letting characters present react to situations. stuff like Amaya not having a comment about Callum not being at her wedding or the Celestial Elves really not having much to say about Aaravos himself despite the Elder theoretically having been around in the days pre imprisonment like

I don't mind that Viren died but I do feel out of my MIND that he and Ezran didn't actually get a conversation, and beyond that that Viren didn't try to pass along any Aaravos information to anyone, and that even if Soren and Viren's relationship was just Maxed Out that we didn't get Opeli and Ezran talking about what to do with him (could've even had Soren walk in and do a Callum S4 moment of 'you ever walk into a room and everyone goes quiet and you know they were talking about you' moment), Opeli reacting/checking on Soren while Viren was imprisoned even if he didn't want to talk to her, there being any verdict about Viren at all and we're never getting anything else out of him again which is why no Ezran and by extension Callum/Rayla/ect feels sort of disappointing to me, as he hasn't interacted with Callum since S1

It's a really good moment, don't get me wrong, but we traded the suspense of thinking Viren had perhaps killed Soren for us getting any last words or gesture from him to Soren face to face

the Celestial Elves gave us info on Startouch Elves in general but not on Aaravos specifically even though the Elder I thought would know more? They aren't surprised at the idea of trying to kill a Great One/Aaravos but there wasn't even a word of warning about if he does get loose or anything Specific about the last time it happened or, if they didn't know anything, confusion about why a Great One is imprisoned like idk

no one had any concern either when getting access to the stars which again, idk, I thought Callum might've been more worried about Aaravos being at the Starscraper and the prison (when he thought he had it) being surrounded by Aaravos's main connection but idk, it didn't matter but I thought it could have

ALSO THE STAVES. HELLO. AT THE STARSCRAPER I JUST

No Aaravos and Callum interaction is also smth I've made my peace about but after the trailer, especially the choice to use that thumbnail for it/as a promo image, idk, I am kind of sad I have to wait until S7 for any of that and now I wonder how significant it can really be/why hes gonna need callum as a puppet now if he's Out and as powerful as he seems to be. we just raised the stakes but had three entire seasons of building towards it, so how can s7 handle getting callum to do dark magic again, theoretical possession/aaravos use, coming back from that, ect, all within 9 eps?

tbh no one really had grief about sir sparklepuff being gone which I guess he wasn't a full Person in anyone's eyes and the focus was all on Claudia/her state which was fine, like we did get some of that nonverbally with Terry at least but we kinda moved right past it. like even one line in ep 9 from terry like "look what he had you do to his most recent child" would have made me go yeah exactly that Mattered but it wasn't there

in addition to no Callum at the wedding Ezran also just sat on Viren being back like idk I guess I wish he'd talked to Amaya more. like I loved him and Aanya I just feel there was room for Both

Listen I'm not one of the people only watching the show for Aaravos and I am delighted with the two episodes we got of him but that he was in more episodes in S3 than in S6 does have me like. cries. really. s4 and s5 i didn't mind in part because I figured stars would be big and it Was but im like oh my god. i got to ep 7 and was like is he REALLY not gonna get out which thankfully he did but only at the end

and the end was like. the biggest cliffhanger we've ever had and i get going for the suspense but it's KILLING ME MAN

I know Aaravos's motivation/goal but not exactly how his actions are leading to that whatsoever as he seems to play every side and doesn't even favor humans if he's willing to torch katolis. unbridled chaos i guess? is that it? I don't even know what to be afraid of next season with him except I'd presume he's going to Xadia next and will Somehow be getting back at the Cosmic Order but idk what the past thousand years have truly been for unless it's waiting around for the stars to align and throwing a fit while doing so

Runaan is out and he and Callum didn't get so much as a sentence between them and that and the Aaravos out but also no conversation double whammy just has me like

PLEASE

at the end of this all this was a more dramatic/cinematic season but it didn't have a lot of the smaller character reaction moments/balance the prior seasons all seemed to give me tbh and it took all season to lead up to highly anticipated events aka letting Runaan and Aaravos out but I didn't get any of the Payoff of that characterwise except for Runaan and Rayla and idk I do feel both like S6 had some of the best moments of the show and also really disappointed in places where it feels like it could have been so easy to have had just a Bit more cohesion and characters plugged into their overarching circumstances/dynamics more

like I think we had the time for it

and going into this expecting a penultimate season and then learning theres a third arc planned, it makes the pacing and lack of aaravos sort of make sense but also has me like, we may not even get that and now I feel like s7 will make or break the Entire show for me which is terrifying

like we got a lot of new info but it was largely not what I was expecting without touching on a lot of stuff I was hoping for and I AGH. i didnt expect this season to continue the build up train and I'm having a hard time accepting that it's the first time tdp has ever like. idk. thrown me such a curveball that it's gotten me honest to god upset which is on me and not the show, and i keep hoping i feel better but so much rides on s7 now

#tdp critical #tdp spoilers #tdp s6 spoilers

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jovenshires · 8 months

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endless au edits: the battle of the bands au nobody asked for pt 7

battle of the bands 2024: an honest op-ed by jeremy elder the six entries to battle of the bands 2024 have finally been announced. not only will we be seeing sad men in their 30s's favorite new band the chosen, known for their appearance on the netflix reality show 'up & coming,' but also four other groups who desperately wish they were as famous. this includes: ftc, renowned alternative-indie sad-girl trio; kolivition, known for making the music your mom turns off every time she walks into the room; coventry, the punk girl group equivalent of that pinterest quote 'we are the granddaughters of the witches you could not burn'; and let's do this, who... no, that's it. who? anyway, it's not like any of that really matters, because i've yet to mention the smosh reunion, aka the wet dream of every millenial who asks for a veteran's discount after surviving warped tour. a clear favorite to win, smosh is coming in with an army of fans and a near-decade of experience on these guys. good luck to what little competition they have. in addition, i am thrilled to report that we now know the final lineup of judges. diehard battle of the bands fans - all two of you - will be thrilled to know that rhett mclaughlin and link neal of mythical will be back to judge yet another thrilling year of mediocrity. after winning ten years ago, those guys just won't let go of their glory days. (or maybe it's the other way around. blink twice if you need help, guys.) on the bright side, though, they've also introduced surprise judge jackie uweh. known for being one of the greatest performers of our generation, it will be uweh's first time judging a musical competition. i don't know what she's doing here and i highly suggest that she runs. and runs fast. the three will be the wonderful, charming, and dutifully impartial judges to this year's competition, and definitely will not be just handing it to smosh as a reward for their long-awaited reunion. (because ian hecox definitely wasn't signed onto the mythical label as a solo artist. it's not unfair at all.) finally, the emcee and host of the event will be newcomer to the rap scene, trevor. if that name doesn't ring any bells for you - don't worry, it doesn't for the rest of us, either. the 24-year-old rapper was apparently responsible for mixing the beats on mythical's latest and edgiest album, which, due to the power of nepotism, made him a natural choice for this year's emcee. known for his "meme rap" (i am being so serious right now), trevor auditioned for the battle of the bands but, fortunately, did not qualify. thus, he will not be competing nor, allegedly, performing. though i have my doubts. i reserve the right to run screaming for the hills the moment they hand him a mic. the soundcloud musician (that's right - don't bother looking him up on spotify, you won't get anywhere) will be hosting the battle of the bands and the series of live shows leading up to it. what does all this mean? well, it looks like this year is no different from the last, and predictable set-ups have means to predictable ends. nevertheless, i, your faithful and humble local reporter, will be making the trip to la with an all-access backstage pass in hand and reporting on the entire thing from start to finish. no rehearsal, live show, or, most importantly, complete disaster of a finale will escape my sight. rest assured that you have at least one decent and reliable eye witness to the whole fiasco. tomorrow marks my trip down to la - i'll be reporting live from the road. until then, i bid you adieu. may the best smosh - i mean, band - win.

#smosh #smosh au #fic #rpf #edit #mine*#aued*#au #jeremy #patrick #rhett #link #trevor #jackie #botbau #patrick and jeremy were not supposed to be in this! but alas!#jeremy e/lder do not rot my brain challenge level IMPOSSIBLE #long post

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leathfaic · 1 year

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"So what do ye eat then, when ye get the choice?" Soap is opening two bottles of beer handing one over to Ghost. He's clueless about what to cook for dinner, might as well ask Simon for some input.

"Chicken and rice. Or I order something." Ghost's tone is nonchalant as he studies the label of the beer he was just handed and Soap decides immediately that he's not gonna follow the plain suggestion actually. He's on leave and deserves some flavour in his food, thank you very much.

"Single malt whisky cask matured?" Ghost' sounds slightly disbelieving. "That is very Scottish.", or disapproving, who knew with the English.

So Soap just snorts, "Had to get ye some of the local stuff, eh? If ye behave ah'll make sure we get some of the beer with tea in for ye."

At that Simon, who was sniffing his beer, looks up, pure horror in his eyes and Soap's snort evolves into a full-on cackle.

He catches himself a moment later, inspecting the almost pouting look behind the mask and decides to drop the topic for now. Instead, he raises his bottle at Simon, "To leave, aye?".

Ghost does the same, their bottles clinking.

"Cheers."

"Slàinte Mhath."

Crisp and cold. Fuck he'd missed beer. Missed a lot of things during that last OP. Food that tasted like actual food was one, bringing him back to his original line of questioning. It shouldn't be surprising that Ghost is not into cooking. He's the only person Soap has ever seen eating anything from the mess with true enthusiasm. Sorts his MREs by how much he likes them too when he thinks no one is looking. Always eating the best first.

"Not much of a cook then?" he keeps his tone light and innocent while sipping his beer. Trying to observe Simon's reactions without making him feel watched.

"I can handle meat," There's a stupid smirk traded between them and Soap would roll his eyes if he didn't have to reign himself in, immediately set ablaze by the stupid joke.

"Learned at a butchers before I joined." Ghost offers up by way of explanation, sounding almost sad. Something must've happened there, something that had Simon ending up in the force. Something that led to him becoming Ghost.

"Well perfect, I'm not terrible but I do handle meat way better in the bedroom." Soap winks at him and this time, to make sure the innuendo lands painfully enough to pull Ghost out of his head.

It does and earns him an exasperated look. Might have convinced him if those brown eyes weren't full of fondness.

He's gonna leave Ghost with the belief that he's not learning to see behind the mask for a little longer: Wants him to feel comfortable. No need to divulge that his tone clearly betrayed that he's got no idea how to cook apart from putting some meat into a pan and put all his hope into some cook in bags. Lots of people couldn't cook, it wasn't a big deal.

Only that it is not just that. From the few things he's told Soap about himself, it makes sense, in a sad way.

Simon, who confronts being gay like being in battle, all hyper-masculine energy focused on fighting through all the hurtful stereotypes and insults his father planted in his head, probably never got to do a lot of things that weren't 'manly'. Makes him wonder where the needle skills come from but only for a split second before he decides he's gonna do something about this then.

"So what is yer favourite food then?"

"Don't really 'ave one." the stoic bastard answers and Soap has to think about the MREs but also has no trouble believing that that is a luxury the other man doesn't allow himself to ponder. Thinks he doesn't deserve it.

Not that'll stop him. Quite the opposite, now he's motivated.

"Alright, anythin ye could be doin with right now?"

He watches Ghost's eyes dart through the kitchen seemingly looking for a clue. Bouncing of cabinets and shelves before he takes a swig of his beer.

"No." he finally answers, sounding like he's withdrawing into himself again. For fucks sake.

Soap smiles at him hiding his exasperation away before it can reach his face, doesn't need his emotions to make this harder on both of them.

"Well too bad, yer at ma mercy." He lets his smile dip into something devilish and revels in the note of alarm in Simon's lovely eyes. It's quickly replaced with confusion as Soap presses a knife into his hands. He stands there, looking for all accounts like a very misplaced ghoul. Very deadly but also kinda endearing.

"Ye can cut the onion, garlic, are chilis fine with ye? If so, cut two of those too and make sure ye wash yer hands after tha'.

They work in silence for a moment, Ghost's dutifully following Soap's command without any complaints. When Soap begins to sear the meat he explains what he's doing and asks for input from Ghost. He's rewarded with warm surprise on the mostly masked features before Ghost starts talking, softer than his usual tone when he's guiding Soap through something job-related, becoming almost reverent when he sees Soap adjust to what he just said. And Soap tries to be careful with his usual ribbing jokes, not wanting to disturb the equilibrium that is Ghost relaxing in his flat.

When the other ingredients are added he takes over again. Talking the lieutenant through the process. Explaining his steps when he knows why they're important and freely admitting defeat when he doesn't.

They drink their beers and cook, Ghost once more following every step that Soap lays out for him and Soap silently trying to impress him. Not that he was gonna admit that to either himself or anyone else.

"Who taught you all tha'?", they're just waiting for the pasta now, the sauce down and bubbling away on low heat, leaning against each other, Soaps head resting on Ghost's shoulder. Outright domestic.

"Ma grannie," Soap smiles fondly at the memory of the tiny woman with her sincere blue eyes. "Told me being a lad was no excuse and Ah'd better know ma way around a kitchen for ma future burd." he winks at Ghost who goes surprisingly red surprisingly fast clearly visible even behind the mask. "When Ah told her Ah'm a buftie she doubled down. Ian she said, refused to call me John ye see forever angry tha' ma da went with the anglicised version, anyways, Ian she said if ye're bringing home another man one of ye will need to know how to cook or for all yer gay love ye'll focking starve." he can almost hear hear as his accent gets thicker and something between wild joy and bottomless sorrow tears through his chest at the memory.

There's a beat of silence before a weird noise breaks it. It's a rough quick sound and it takes Soap a second to realise that Simon just snorted.

"Well thank fuck for grandma MacTavish and her foresight!" he pulls his almost empty beer bottle into the air dramatically and they toast again.

Soap's smile is wide, imagining what his nan's reaction to Ghost would've been.

They might have gotten on entirely too well.

#ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #soapghost #cod mwii #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #cod mw2 #cod #cod hc #I'll be probably putting that in one of my fics on ao3 at some point #but we'll see #enjoy the domestic thoughts #also no soap will never again stop with the “meat handling” jokes in bed #simon regrets ever telling him #and proceeds to shut him up with said skills (not the ones he learned during his apprenticeship)

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lxmelle · 6 months

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Just going to share some random thoughts about the promo and the afterlife in jjk here.

I was so confused about this promo release at first, but now that I’ve had a skim of the scenes and what it portrays, I’m left with a sense of sadness - and the bittersweet scene of the empty chairs at the airport...

…just - sigh.

I felt like it was a good way to promote the release of the latest jjk manga as a way to also commemorate Gojo’s life. I struggle to put my emotions into words at the moment, but will say that I hope they find peace after all they have been through. Each one of them.

Of course the debate continues about whether they all went together, where they headed, etc. I’m not here to insist upon any one belief, really. I, too, wonder what the afterlife means in jjk.

In my previous post about the cover of volume 26, I touched on what Shinto Buddhism has to say about it. It may be that there is a realm between nothingness (enlightenment) and the human world (rebirth = more suffering) that they reside in now.

Other Buddhist beliefs talk about pure land and nirvana. There’s the more recent interpretation by Larue and Miguel about heaven and hell — so, really, who knows?

We also don’t know what North and South actually mean. So far, speculations are around becoming someone new or going back. But in what way, exactly?

Someone on Twitter/now X had an interesting theory which focused on Geto having a domain (link: https://x.com/kostivedae/status/1775185991818465599?s=12&t=fRFF_o0I99NKUvzHwQHykA) and expanded on why, how it links to Gojo based on a deeper appreciation for the symbolism in mandalas drawn by Gege and those in Tibetan (?) Buddhism, and how they might still be hanging around or trapped.

It’s a really interesting read, but the main takeaway for me to bring this up here is that this individual speculates that the four are talking in a cursed realm. Which Kenjaku is referring to here:

Now, I never understood this part much. Was it ever expanded upon? Can someone enlighten me in the comments?

I don’t know if it does relate to the Shinto belief about existing “somewhere” and they are cursed, therefore unable to reach “nothingness” (enlightenment) and have no choice but to exist in some land somewhere between that and the human realm. Not that it may be a bad thing? Depends on whether they want to keep living or end their suffering by becoming one with nothingness?

My personal interpretation was that as sorcerers they are like Dewas (higher beings) and therefore get judged differently in death. So it’s similar to a Shinto belief or in certain Buddhist sections, they can move into a Pure land based on the Buddha they follow (this is based on 5 Buddhas/directions).

But my understanding is basic, at best.

So going back to the video and linking it to what the OP on twitter/now X is speculating… if the plane indeed took off and Gege gave animators the “go ahead” to do this, does that mean that the theory about the cursed realm is debunked?

Honestly I’m not sure I like the idea that Geto’s soul is still around and participating in the culling games alongside Kenjaku. This is bizarre to me, but I’ll withhold judgement since it’s a theory. I will say that I did not interpret his behaviour at the airport as shady at all.

I guess we wait and find out if Gege ever expands on this and how the series unfolds.

#jjk speculations #jjk spoilers #jjk volume 26 #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu Kaisen spoilers #jujutsu kaisen analysis #jujutsu kaisen afterlife #jujutsu kaisen airport #Geto Suguru #Gojo Satoru #jjk theories #jujutsu kaisen theories #jjk analysis #jjk #jjk meta

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chaosbarelycontained · 5 months

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I Am The Resurrection

North Country Boy Chapter 1

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB!OC

TW: swearing

Words: 2.9k

Synopsis: Jules is given a choice and finds out that someone from her past whom she thought was dead is actually very much alive.

Jules sat towards the back of the room as Captain Green debriefed his squad on their latest successful deployment. She picked at the skin around her thumbnail as she tried to ignore the rising tide of nausea in her belly. She was in the shit. Ignoring a direct order, no matter the outcome, was unacceptable and she’d had to take out three hostiles in the process. Sure she’d managed to get her hands on the key locations they’d needed but now she was drowning in paperwork and had the dark cloud of a disciplinary hearing hanging over her head.

A slight creak of the door to her left grabbed her attention and her eyes were drawn to the tall male figure that slipped through and leaned against the wall. He folded his arms across his chest and seemed to be listening intently to whatever the Captain had to say. Jules resumed her picking, hissing out a quiet curse as a bead of blood welled up against her cuticle, and she stuck her thumb in her mouth. Something registered in her brain then, much slower than it usually would have, and she cast another surreptitious look over to the stranger. Beard. He had a beard. Only Pioneer Sergeants were allowed to wear a beard and she could see from his uniform that he wasn’t one of those. His stripes told her he was a Captain. Special Forces then. Had to be covert ops. Why was…oh shit.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught him looking over at her and, for Juliette, it was enough confirmation. He must be part of the disciplinary committee. If they’d brought in another Special Forces Captain for her hearing then she was well and truly fucked. Her stomach rolled and saliva welled in her mouth as Green moved into his closing remarks. She barely heard his dismissal over the thoughts that were running rampant through her brain but the movement of her squad as they began to vacate the room brought her back down to Earth. She stood from her chair and then turned to leave but Green’s voice cracked out across the room.

“Kelsall, a word?”

Jules froze for a second and tried not to let her shoulders droop as she made her way to the front of the room. A few of her squad mates gave her sympathetic looks and Boothroyd even patted her on the shoulder. Plastering a bland mask onto her face she stood at ease before her Captain, trying to project the very image of military perfection. I’m sorry Robbie, she offered in silent prayer to her brother as the unfamiliar Captain stepped up to stand next to Green.

They waited in uncomfortable silence until the room had emptied. Jules resisted the urge to squirm under the heavy scrutiny of her senior officers. She was no rookie and she’d not crumble like one.

“Sergeant Kelsall, this is Captain Price,” Green said, inclining his head toward the stranger.

“Pleasure to meet you, Sir,” she saluted with as much formality as she could muster.

“Kelsall,” Price nodded, his arms still folded.

“Look, Jules,” Green began, trying to make her feel comfortable. “We’ve been in the same squad for a long time now and I’ve never once ever questioned your judgement. Even now.”

Jules sighed and lowered her gaze. She knew which way this speech would go. She and Green had a good working relationship that had started way back even before they’d joined the Special Reconnaissance Regiment but she guessed that even he didn't have the authority to get her out of the hole this time. She wondered for a moment where she’d actually go, she was pretty short on options, but the unfamiliar voice of Captain Price drew her back to the conversation.

“You’ve been noticed, Sergeant,” he stated in a clipped tone.

“I don’t quite know how to take that remark, Sir,” Jules admitted, trying to maintain her posture.

Green sighed and ran his hand through his short salt-and-pepper hair before dragging it down over his chin.

“I’m going to put it plainly, Jules, out of respect for our friendship. You’re going to face disciplinary action for your conduct on the last mission…”

“Or?” she interrupted, sensing the direction the conversation was going.

“Or we take a walk and you listen to what I’ve got to say,” Price interjected, tilting his head slightly.

Her eyes darted between the two Captains but she managed to keep the rising tide of panic off her face. A second passed, and then a few more, all of them weighed by a heavy silence.

”Shall we, Sir?” she said finally, turning to face Price.

“After you,” he gestured towards the door.

With one last look at Captain Green’s tight-lipped face she led Captain Price out of the room and into the corridor beyond.

“I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions,” he said quietly, mindful of their public location.

“Not as many as you’d think,” Jules replied, following alongside the Captain as he led them confidently through the maze of corridors and walkways.

He finally came to a halt in front of an unlabelled door that opened up into a cramped, nondescript office. Price made his way behind the desk and reached for the top drawer, surprising Jules by actually removing it completely. On the back of the drawer there was a small rectangular object fastened there by metallic duct tape. Price worried at the corner of the tape with his fingernail, loosening it enough for him to be able to peel it back and retrieve the object. He held it out to Jules, his eyebrow raised, and she took it from him. It was a data drive.

“Everything you need to know is on there. It can’t be copied, well, you probably could but I’d prefer it if you didn’t. You’ve got four hours from when you plug it in to read it before it wipes itself.

“OK, but what’s this all about?” Jules asked, still confused, although she curled her fingers around the drive and drew it back towards herself.

“You’ve got skills, Kelsall,” he rumbled, “but more importantly, you’ve got an attitude. You get the job done regardless and that’s that sort of thing we’re looking for.”

He huffed out a laugh and shook his head at Jules’ bemused expression.

“Just read it. If you’re in, pack your kit and I’ll see you on the airstrip at 1600 hours, if not…well, this conversation never happened.”

“Understood, Sir,” she said, but already sounded distracted as she turned the drive over and over in her fingers.

“Alright then,” he nodded, moving towards the door but then paused, tapping two fingers onto the monitor of the desktop computer in front of her. “Use this one. It’s not connected to the network.”

With those last words he left Jules in the office, closing the door quietly behind him. Jules took his place behind the desk and sat in the old wooden chair that had been left there. It gave an ominous crack as she leaned over to turn on the pc but it remained uncomfortably stable. The screen flickered to life, opening in bios, and Jules plugged the data drive into the usb slot on the pc before typing in the commands to run the drive.

It contained nothing more than a single unnamed document. She took a breath and opened it, curiosity thrumming through her veins. Task Force 141. The overview was short, revealing not much more than a veiled reference to various Special and Black Ops but it was enough to draw Jules in. She scrolled further to find a squad list, with Price’s name at the top. There were no photos, just names, ranks and former affiliations. Price and a few others were former SAS. Makes sense, she thought but when she got to the third name on the list her heart skipped a beat and her hand stilled on the keyboard.

Jules stared at the document on the screen, as if she could make a photograph appear by sheer force of will. She shook her head in disbelief. It couldn’t be the same person, surely. Pushing the thought to the back of her mind she scrolled through the rest of the short list of names. There were Americans, Russians, a couple of Australians, and the unusual mix fuelled Jules’ intrigue even more.

As the clock ticked around to 1600 hours, Jules found herself standing before the doors that led out to the airstrip. She smoothed her hands over her maroon Duke of Lancaster belt and adjusted the fit of the grey SRR beret that she’d been so proud to receive. Hoisting her kit bag onto her shoulder she marched out onto the airstrip towards the distinctive figure of Captain Price, who stood with arms folded before an A109SP helicopter that was readying for takeoff.

“Hoped you’d make an appearance,” Price said gruffly, raising his voice a little over the noise of the aircraft.

“Join a task force that doesn’t exist or face a disciplinary, not really much of a choice there, Sir,” she scoffed, turning to face him.

He looked down at her with a smirk before turning toward her and holding out his hand. She looked down at it and then back up at him before grasping his hand in hers and shaking it.

“Not many get the option.”

Jules followed Price onto the aircraft, stowed her bag under her seat, and fastened herself in. She removed her beret, rolled it up to put in her pocket, and then put on the headset and mic so she could communicate with Price and the pilot. The noise of the engine and the blades grew even louder and her stomach lurched as the helicopter rose into the air and headed off on an almost southerly trajectory.

“Should be about 45 minutes,” the pilot informed them after she had completed her obligatory checks.

“Cheers Ross,” Price said and then turned his attention back to Jules.

She shrank a little under his intense gaze and she struggled to read his expression under the beard he wore. A sick knot of regret began to build in her throat but she swallowed it down and met his stare.

“Can I ask where we’re going?” she croaked, but the mic carried her strained voice straight to the Captain’s ears.

“Stirling Lines,” he offered and Jules nodded despite her surprise.

The base in Herefordshire was the headquarters for all the Special Forces regiments including the SRR, but Jules hadn’t really expected it to be the home of a secret task force. She’d been based in Preston for the last three years and had been hopping around the globe for longer than that. She’d not actually spent that much time on Stirling Lines beyond her initial SRR recruitment and training.

“Will I get a chance to get the rest of my stuff, Sir?” she asked, having not been able to fit all of her belongings into a single kit bag.

“It’s being packed as we speak. Should be delivered tomorrow.”

“You were so sure I’d say yes?”

“90%” Price said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“And the other 10%?” Jules probed.

“That you and Green were having an affair and you wouldn’t want to leave him.”

“What?!” Jules spluttered, her jaw almost hitting her chest.

“It was the only other reason I could think of as to why he spoke so highly of you. I see from your reaction that’s not the case so you’d better live up to your reputation, Kelsall.”

“Are you serio…you’re takin’ the piss aren’t you, Sir?” Jules said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously and Price let out a hearty laugh.

“You’d better get used to it. Welcome to the 141, Sergeant.”

After landing at the barracks, Price guided Jules onto a small jeep before climbing into the driver’s seat. He pulled away from the helipad and took them on a short journey down a small side road that Jules had never used before. It led them around the back of the billets to a smaller building that Jules hadn’t seen in her time stationed there. It was close enough to the other accommodation buildings to still be a part of them but far enough away to give some extra sense of privacy. Price pulled up next to a couple of other vehicles and cut the engine, exiting the cab with the same economy of movement as he did everything else. Twitching his head in the direction of the entrance he stalked off, expecting Jules to follow him.

The interior was no different to any other billet she’d stayed in, with linoleum floors and bland-coloured paint on the walls.

“Mess hall’s down the back there, rooms are on the first floor. You’re in 3B,” the Captain pointed towards a set of stairs. “You can dump your kit before we eat but first I’ll introduce you to everyone. They should be in the briefing room now, or they will be if they know what’s good for ‘em.”

Jules followed close behind as the Captain led her towards a room at the rear of the building opposite the mess hall he’d indicated earlier. As they got closer she could hear the familiar rhythm of raucous banter even though she couldn’t yet make out the words. Price opened the door and they passed through, a chorus of cheers rising up as the team took sight of their Captain.

“‘Bout bloody time,” one of them called out.

“Should be against regs to call a briefing this close to tea time!” another grumbled but they quietened down when Price turned to face them and ran a hand over his beard.

Dumping her kit bag on the floor near the door, Jules stood at ease against the wall and listened as Price addressed his team.

“The sooner you stop your whining, the quicker you’ll get to your scran, MacTavish,” Price warned but Jules could see the good-natured spark behind the Captain’s disdainful expression. “I wanted to introduce everyone to the newest member of the team.”

A few whoops and whistles sounded before a gesture from Price quieted them down again and began his introductions. Jules stayed steadfast under the scrutiny of the assembled soldiers as she plastered a pleasant half-smile on her face and hoped that the flush she felt rising on her chest would stop at the neck of her shirt and not turn her face into a beetroot. She nodded along to the cheerful welcomes from the room and her smile slowly turned from forced to genuine.

Movement from the doorway drew her attention away from the Captain’s address and she watched as a large figure entered the room, his face covered by a balaclava with a skull painted on it. She wasn’t phased. Special Forces were, by their nature, a strange lot. She should know, she’d been in the SRR for long enough.

“Finally,” Price huffed. “Where the hell have you been? You know what, never mind. I was just introducing the rest to the new recruit. Lieutenant, this is Sergeant Juliette…

“Kelsall,” the newcomer finished and Jules froze at the sound of his voice.

Something about it was so familiar and yet…

She stiffened as his chestnut eyes bored into her from beneath the cover of his mask and it was then that she was certain. Her chest filled with ice, her heart hardening as she stared back at him with cold eyes and her jaw tightly clenched.

“Yeah, that’s right. You know each other?” Price asked.

“Used to,” the soldier replied, folding his arms across his broad chest, his eyes still fixed on her.

“Though he was dead,” Jules shrugged as if she didn’t care, forcing herself to turn her attention back to Price.

“He is!” one of the other soldiers called out with a laugh as Price waved a disgruntled dismissal.

Chairs scraped as the 141 rose and left the briefing room for the mess in search of their tea. Jules managed to maintain her hold on her expressionless face, having to draw on every single ounce of her training as a cold rage began to form deep within her chest. The man before her wasn’t dead at all, and the implications of that rocked her to her core.

* * * * *

Juliette skidded into the kitchen, her feet sliding across the cheap linoleum. She came to a stop, beaming shyly at the lad who’d just let himself in.

“H-hi Simon,” she stammered, rocking on her heels a little as her face flushed red.

“Jules,” he nodded, leaning against the wall next to the back door. ‘You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm cool,” she replied, trying for nonchalance but failing miserably.

Her brother Rob entered the room, shrugging on his knock-off Sprayway jacket and rolled his eyes at her embarrassment.

“Alright mate, we off?” he said to Simon, who nodded and pushed off from the wall.

“Where’re you goin’?” Juliette asked, a not-so-subtle yearning note seeping into her voice.

“Out,” Rob grunted dismissively.

“Can I come?” she tried, but the hope that brewed in her eyes was dashed at her brother’s derisive snort.

He didn’t bother to reply and the two lads turned to go. Simon looked back and gave Juliette a tight but sympathetic smile.

“See ya, Jules,” he muttered as they went out of the house, leaving Juliette alone in the kitchen.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x oc #john price #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty #simon riley #john soap mactavish #soap cod #cod mwii #ghost cod

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theflyindutchwoman · 9 months

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Well, I mean, we could come clean. Are you ready for that? Are you ready for Smitty's commentary on us dating or the "oohs" every time we walk into the roll call room together? Or we could lie. Okay, I have an idea. I heard from a C.I. that there were drugs coming out of the kitchen. And -- And you asked me to join as backup. Right. Like a soft undercover infiltration. Not bad. Thank you.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 5.10 - The List

This moment is actually the perfect introduction of the 'secret relationship' era… of what makes it so good, really : how bad they are at this secrecy thing. Embarrassingly (and hilariously) so. And the irony is that there's no reason for them to be this terrible. They usually thrive under pressure, undercover or not. They're naturally reserved when it comes to their personal life, shying away from PDAs and all… And they already spend so much time together, have a shorthand… And yet, they are downright awful at trying to conceal and pretend that nothing has changed between them.

Just the way they are standing in the bull pen gives them away… The whispering, the awkward smiles, checking every five seconds if anyone is watching them… Tim grinning when Officer Jan passes by… As if that's not suspicious in itself. Honestly, anyone who didn't know they were together before they went official should give their badges back on principle. And then, there's the content of their brainstorming… With Lucy trying to come up with a good reason as to why they were together at the 'most romantic restaurant in town' - other than the real reason. And let's talk about this for a second. It's never been confirmed but I'd like to think that it was Tim's idea to try this place for their first date. As much as he was uncomfortable at the pop-up restaurant at the beach, he doesn't mind going to fancy places either. Like the one he chose for his bet. So I could see him picking this restaurant, especially if Lucy had talked about it beforehand, wanting only the best for her… She's worth the effort after all.

For all the humor in this scene, there's also a more serious side. Starting with Lucy who is ready to come clean right away… Which is quite the statement from her, considering how she used to refuse to even put a label on her previous relationships. And the implications behind this… She is fine with disclosing their relationship to their superior officers after only one date. One that they didn't get to finish. Her certainty in them is so precious. And Tim's face… There are so many different emotions here. But mostly, he's taken aback by her readiness. It's clear he isn't yet - but it doesn't mean that he is less committed. As unserious as his comments about Smitty or the 'ooohs' are, it does reveal underneath what his concerns are : gossip. That their colleagues would be talking about them. About Lucy. And that's quite telling that this was his first thought. Not the issue of the chain of command, not that it could be too soon...

And to be fair, Lucy isn't any more keen to face their colleagues' judgements. Hence her choice to go for a cover story. And this is such a good callback to her approach to their undercover op… The one that started it all. Tim's smile when she tells him her story… I do wonder if his mind went back to her previous cover story, the one that broke his brain… Either way, he is looking so proud. Both of them for that matter. That is, until Nolan comes over… They barely make it a few seconds before blowing it up. All it took was for John to say hi. That's it. They're so worried on getting caught that they end up raising suspicion. Luckily for them, he is just befuddled, wondering what they are even talking about. Their faces once they realise that he doesn't have a clue as to what's going on and they were giving themselves away… They are so transparent. These two are a complete disaster and I love every second of this.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #5.10 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

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alpydk · 4 months

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Raindrops

Gale sat in the room of the Elfsong Tavern, a grey woollen blanket wrapped around him and the leather-bound book resting on his lap. Rainwater poured from the leaky guttering that ran along the edge of the building and coated the window in front of him with a sheen he could barely see through. He saw individual droplets making their journey down the glass, each on their own doomed adventures. Thunder could be heard in the distance, muffling the sounds of the city folk rushing inside to find shelter from the storm.

It was days like this which reminded him of Waterdeep, of moments sat on his balcony watching the clouds gather and break, of the rain bringing forth a comfort that all mistakes and sins could be washed away. For some, the gloomy skies brought a heaviness of the heart, but he found a sense of tranquillity as the heavens broke, bringing with them a new energy to the world around him. It caused him to reflect over his life, over journeys, of loves come and gone, of what was to come should he so wish it.

His life, in some ways, had always been like the weather, a swirl of cycles and unpredictability. His own storm clouds had been formed by his mistakes, the orb, acting as the rain that could cleanse him of his own sins. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of his own name, as if his mother had known of what fate would have in store for him. He wondered if it was currently raining in Waterdeep. Would she be happy for him, knowing what was to come? Of the potential tempest that could come her way.

He looked over at the bed, the wooden beams holding the scarlet drapes that hung down. The candlelight of the chandelier flickered nearby, causing shadows to dance on the cotton bedsheets. Would this moment create another storm cloud ready to burst? Would the potential rains from it be enough to wash away the folly, or would they leave only destruction in their wake?

He sighed. Maybe this moment could just be that; another moment. One that he would look back on fondly, just like he had the days of rain at Waterdeep. He stood from the chair, placing the blanket down lightly, and softly stepped forward, watching over his love who slept peacefully, the rain on tiles enough to bring their soul to calm, and he knew this choice would not bring a storm. Instead, it would bring the rains of sunlit showers on warm days, of trickling adventurers on windowpanes, of longing kisses placed on moistened skin.

Gale knew the decision he had to make and as the sunlight began to peer through the fading clouds and into the dimly lit room, he lay down next to the person he longed to spend his of his life with; the one who one day he would sit and listen to the rain with.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #galemance #Spotify

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thecurioustale · 3 months

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A Supreme Court Ruling that Should Not Be Enforced

I think the Chevron Defense ruling last week is the most dangerous decision by the Supreme Court this year, as it will immediately begin to disrupt the the entire federal executive's ability to function and will directly lead in the coming years to the dismantling of environmental protections, worker protections, regulatory oversight, and much more.

But today's ruling on presidential immunity is, by far, the most unconstitutional ruling of this term, and one of the most breathtakingly unconstitutional rulings I have ever seen or learned about by the US Supreme Court. It is up there with Citizens United (corporations are people), Plessy vs. Ferguson (segregation in schools), and Dobbs (stripping people of acknowledged constitutional rights).

I understand the need for individual officeholders to have blanket immunity from civil litigation (so you sue the organization, not the person) and even some qualified criminal immunity for that officeholder's official activities. But what the Supreme Court did today, in its 6–3 ruling, is declare that the US president need only declare or construe or even simply believe that they are acting in an official capacity, and, therein, they are immune from all criminal liability unconditionally.

The President of the United States is now above the law. Full stop.

For years I have wondered where we should draw the line on lawless behavior and extremism from our courts, especially the US Supreme Court. The thing about our rule of law is that you have to accept the outcome of court cases; if you don't you are basically calling for violent revolution whether you realize it or not, and at an absolute minimum you are calling for chaos and unrest.

I have always asserted that Neil Gorsuch's votes on the Court should not be recognized, as his appointment to the Supreme Court was the result of a power grab by Mitch McConnell. But of course as more time passes this becomes more and more unlikely. And Kavanaugh and Barrett's appointments I have no choice but to accept as legitimate, so even if Gorsuch were not counted this ruling would still have been a significant 5–3 majority.

Citizens United was real close for me to delegitimizing the ruling majority on the bench at the time, and the more recent Dobbs ruling actually crossed my personal line and made all of the justices who signed it unfit to hold their offices, but I figured that it would still be better to resolve the problem by passing a federal abortion rights law when Democrats next have the opportunity and continuing to try to flush the fascist judge problem out of the judiciary through maintaining control of the White House and Senate and appointing new judges over time.

But this ruling, now, raises the possibility by at least an order of magnitude that our constitutional system of democracy and rule of law in America will be dismantled by the next sufficiently extreme or unscrupulous Republican president, be that Trump himself or whomever else.

Just to give you an idea of the landscape that we now live in, Joe Biden could, at this moment, order military special ops teams to assassinate Donald Trump. Hell, he could do it himself: He could walk up to Trump and pull the trigger. And he would be completely immune from criminal prosecution for it now or ever. And that's just the beginning.

If not corrected, this will be used someday to overthrow our democracy. And by then it will be too late for us to do anything about it through peaceful means.

In 2020 I worried that, even if Biden won the presidency, it would just be four years of calm before the real storm began. At the time I wasn't thinking about another Trump presidency but rather the committed fascists high in his party who want to succeed him. Cruz, DeSantis, the usuals. Trump is a buffoon with very little self-control, but a lot of these other people are smart cookies. In 2024 my worry remains relevant: We are one step closer today to handing the fascists our country.

If I were the president at this moment, I would declare this ruling invalid. Because it is. Not only does it have no basis in the Constitution, but it upends some of the most fundamental assumptions of our Constitution and our whole legal regime. I would go before the public and say "This ruling is illegal. This ruling gives me the power to assassinate anyone I want; to run criminal enterprises from the Oval Office; to commit fraud and extortion and embezzlement of your money as taxpayers; to imprison my political opponents, shut down the free press, and forcibly remove from office any judge or police officer with the gall to rule against my actions or try hold me accountable. This ruling makes me a king. That is what makes it illegal. As the leader of the executive branch of our government, I have a duty not to enforce an illegal and unconstitutional ruling, and I am directing all federal agencies to similarly disregard it. Neither I nor any other US president should be placed above the law."

And believe you me, I would be tempted to go a lot further, including appointing six new justices on the Court and no longer recognizing the old six. But for the sake of the country and the way we do things in this country I would limit myself to the above action of refusing to recognize this one ruling.

I understand that this opens a Pandora's box. That's how the fascist resurgence in this country has worked: Republicans will do something completely unreasonable (like gumming up judicial nominations), forcing Democrats to break norms just to get the people's business done (like eliminating the judicial filibuster), which Republicans then turn around and exploit to their advantage (as by using their time in power to appoint whomever they want to the courts). But I think this is the way it has to be. We can't let this ruling stand. The other problems—Citizens United, Dobbs—can be fixed through legislation. This one can't, except maybe by a law that specifically declares that a president is not above the law, which I'm not sure would itself be constitutional. In any case, another problem with that is that fascists are selective in their application of the law. They have no problem ruling in favor of conservatives, but will never permit that exact same legal reasoning to then benefit their ideological enemies.

But yeah, this is bad. The Chevron ruling will begin to erode our federal executive in horrible ways, and this immunity ruling sets the stage for nightmarish conduct by a future president.

I didn't watch the debate the other day, or any of the analysis after the fact. I know who I am voting for, and, on some level, I didn't want to have to watch Biden's inevitably uncharismatic performance. And then everyone started melting down and crying that the sky was falling, so I went and watched a short clip of Biden's worst moments, and I get it. That performance goes beyond the stutter that often wrongly gets conflated with dementia. But in this case he clearly lost his train of thought and he did it on-stage in front of millions of people. That's a rough day.

I still don't think the mate is senile. I have seen plenty of people have the meltdown that he had, and I have had that meltdown myself. It doesn't necessarily mean anything. But even if Joe Biden were hunched over in a wheelchair drooling out the side of his mouth, I would still vote for him, and gladly. Because not voting for him is a vote for Trump, and I would not vote for a candidate who spent the whole debate lying and who himself is a traitor, an egomaniac, a convicted felon, a con artist, a failed coup plotter, and an ethically bankrupt, intellectually stunted manchild. And because, moreover, he has run a good administration. He has good people around him, and can be ably succeeded by Vice President Harris if needed. When you vote for a president you are voting not just for an individual but for a team, and that team's ethos, and I have no doubt which team, which ethos, I support. We are asking the wrong person to drop out of this race.

Anyway! President Biden is going to speak to the public tonight about this court ruling. I don't know what he will say. I don't expect anything meaningful a la refusing to enforce the Court's ruling, but it sure would be nice. President Trump should be prosecuted for his alleged crimes on January 6 (which is the trial most directly impacted by this ruling), crimes of which Trump is unambiguously guilty and which are "alleged" only in the blindfolded eyes of Justice for the sake of due process. America needs this accountability, or we will suffer terribly for want of it in the future.

#US Supreme Court #Philosophy of law #Fascism #American fascism

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