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jvzebel-x · 1 year

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"only other Hawaiians ever make me feel not Hawaiian enough--"

"Hawaiians from the islands are racist--"

"Hawaiians from the mainland have REAL aloha spirit everyone up here is just Hawaiian, no matter how much blood you got--"

okay but you understand that every single portion of what you just said is rooted in colonialism&the attempted murder of our people+culture, right. like you GET why kānaka from the islands have to be so protective of things as they are on the frontlines watching both our culture&our land get chunked for the proft of those who have no right to any of it, right. like you KNOW that hawaiian homelands requires a 50% blood quota to even get on the list&a 25% quota from anyone you leave that land to post mortem, &that the list is STILL decades long because the vast majority of the homeless kānaka back home MEET that requirement, right-- that the homeless demographic in the islands has the largest percentage of us left in one grouping in the world&it isn't surprising the families who maintained a higher blood percentage are also too poor to leave the islands even while dying on the streets, right. like you are CAPABLE of conceptualizing what all of that would do when confronted with someone from the diaspora who "doesn't understand why the aloha spirit is dead in the islands". right. like you can SEE&HEAR how it sounds when you say the nonhawaiian people&legacy of the colonizers that tried to obliterate your ancestors are the only ones who make you feel hawaiian now that they as a group have successfully taken up the primary position on what makes a good hawaiian. right. like you KNOW why there's even a push to properly exemplify kānaka maoli after literally hundreds of years of our people having to save us from cultural obliteration, &that the push to be a "real hawaiian" definitely didn't start with us, the people who you are trying to reconnect to&identify with. right.

like, i get feeling like the expectations are too high-- there isn't any right way to be kānaka, &there are most definitely kānaka who are shitty about that-- but coming back with, "BUT THE HAOLES VALIDATE MY HAWAIIAN-NESS" is just fucking WILD, like i don't know how to explain to you the haoles thinking they have a right to validate fucking anything in relation to us&our struggle&our people is just...

blood doesn't matter, but obviously not in the way you seem to think, lmao.

#OOF these conversations never get any easier.#my heart BLEEDS for the family that deny themselves like this but im constantly having to accept that im not the right person to help lmao.#i absolutely know what its like to not be hawaiian enough lmao. from both other hawaiians AND haoles.#my thing is that while it may be more insulting to have blood be shitty what exactly do you think you as a person are saying #when you take more issue w that than w haoles thinking they have a right to gauge your relation to blood&culture?#why is THEIR ignorance something to be handwaved but from US&OUR expectations its a deadly sin #that justifies throwing us all under the bus&turning your back on the ppl you claim to be apart of?#of COURSE the haoles think your '''aloha spirit' is the real kine its the kine that accepts THEM w no expectations LMAO.#of COURSE the haoles think youre a '''good''' hawaiian-- are you NOT EMBARASSED about that?#like how can you possibly be so fucking deaf to the words coming out of your mouth i dont fucking understand.#arguing w US is more productive than learning from your kin&hearing what we have to say??? okay.#... for context someone i know was arguing that glofiying the murder of cooke contributes to savage stereotypes #associate w us&ultimately makes things more decisive by encouraging the idea that we're violent to any foreigners #&'''well i felt foreign the first time i went to see the islands bc thats how ppl made me feel&it wasnt fun for me'''#okay but why didnt you grow up where you were supposed to-- on those islands.#okay but why do you feel separated at all from a culture&ppl that are being forced more&more into the diaspora.#okay but why did you need to reconnect to us at all bc it wasnt any KANAKA who decided to fracture us all like this.#maybe instead of focusing on your own personal bad feelings you could put in a modicum of effort into understanding your kin #instead of rushing back to the open&loving haole arms who accept you as a REAL hawaiian bc us mean kanaks are being racist. :'(

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natandacat · 2 years

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The levels of stress I'm under are medically contraindicated so I'm making myself not be stressed by just embracing the idea of complete failure and powerlessness. Is it working? Mostly. My ability to focus on work is gone tough so that's annoying (I say while procrastinating on homework by writing this)

#just bitching #i can't even have a little beer to relax CMON #medical #i played 15min of cello today #im ecstatic that i can play again but its so frustrating like makes me wants to cry but i cant frustrating #that i cant play more than 15 minutes #i lost all my calluses too #the cello is just so important to me people dont get it #its like if you couldnt like. smile or laugh or cry anymore imagine that it would suck #im not even making art like when id raw or write its literally not even art to me its just me #i hate that i cant play 1h+ a day rn #like i dont need MORE grief like please thats jhst so much grief #i hate being physically disabled it sucks so fucking much #and i have to perform so that my uni doesnt kick me out and i cant speak up about the daily horrible ableism #no matter how demeaning and isolating #love being expendable. love being seen as an acceptable sacrifice #love being told i have nothing to contribute since i cant go to abled spaces that literally threaten my life #love that when i say those spaces dont have to be that life threatening in which case i could evolve in them im literally ignored #eyes shift conversations ends #'thats crazy' they say before dismissing my experience. yeah. it truly is crazy

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strwbrymlkshake · 2 years

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so upset and disgusted my stomach hurty </3

#mine #💿#im not upset bc of him im upset bc of something else but i wanna rant abt him anyways #he isnt good at holding conversations w me but tried to cheer me up which is nice. an attempt was made #im being less of a weirdo freak around him and distancing more ?? which is good i suppose #i love yandere culture and everything but i only want a yandere relationship thats not based on exploiting weaknesses #like a thing where each partner consents to whatever non traditional act etc. none of this weird stuff #the thing im upset about is sort of regarding my views abt it but not a ref to anything on here ugugugghrg #i dont understand why thered be people who want to see the light of their life in pain and hurting. its about worship and adoration #and treating your love like the object nearest to your heart. like an extension of you. not fucking abusing them #not abusing those who cant do anything for themselves. who cant fight back. who dont have the slightest idea #dont drag people into your sick fantasy just because it gets you off usdhwkffjdkgke im seething rn #anyway i tagged this abt my cd guy so i will continue to talk abt him. when he was messaging me i was very happy #i was so happy i could make him laugh and his happiness made me happy<3 but like literally i cant trust anyone anymore #i know one person cant take care of all my problems but i feel like they could contribute a little more. instead of ignoring me #idk maybe im being weird and everyone acknowledges me a normal amount.. i have irreversible damage in my brain<3 #im being good about not obsessing. having other interests and goals. having a LIFE on my own without craving him everyday #i dont know if im doing it purposefully though or im just afraid. i know i am afraid but is that the only reason? i really am trying #i feel so heartbroken the way i felt more love when a cashier was being nicer to me than almost any of my friends #im like oh ill get doxxed writing that. but i dont think anyone is paying enough attention or cares enough to find me out anyway.#i will settle for second best even if it means they simply regard me positively :( i want to be liked so so badly. just for who i am #not anything like talents or appearance. just me. why doesnt anyone desire me for who i am? maybe its because who i am isnt the best yet #but i want to be loved even if im not the greatest and i dont think thats too much to ask. i want to be loved the way all humans love #but there isnt much of that any more. or if there is they sure have a funny way of showing it. im not supposed to rely on people for things #like this. but i cant just keep telling MYSELF i accept me. that i love me. because i know this already. im fine with me. but no one else #is. ive submitted to the ordeal of being known. to being vulnerable. to pouring my heart out. but everyone who touches it is filthy.#ive fixed myself to the best of my ability yet why am i not being taken notice of. i make myself look nice everyday. what does it take #its so sickening that its hard to find a kind person in the world. you ignore me. i was going to go great lengths to get you a present too #i was gna try so hard but its so easy for you to not try at all. oh well i cant cntrol others i can only sit being tormented by thr actions #i cant work hard enough to make you care about persevering. to not be indifferent. to not be boring. to not be neglectful

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nozomijoestar · 2 months

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Love hate relationship with how almost every in person class I've ever had in my life turns into The Me Show: Starring Me because the class majority will consistently refuse to ever speak and participate regardless of subject, no matter how hard their teacher tries engaging them

#i feel like I've been having a conversation with myself in school for over a decade and you can feel the resentment #but then ppl still don't contribute so what am i supposed to do- fail the class by never saying shit either?#i like the attentionand engagement w the teacher i hate the awkward shame & resentment that always fills the room bc of it #like everyone's silently telling you shut the fuck up but then they have nothing to say or contribute #i feel bad carrying the discussions but also angry bc how is you refusing to engage my fault #a lot of ppl will also sit there on their phone or clearly ignoring/ disconnecting from the lecture then still get mad when called on /out #why the fuck are you here if what's expected inconveniences you doing whatever you want whenever you want

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cetoddle · 1 year

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omggggg i was trying to have a conversation with my mom and she was not listening to me so much she went ‘mhm yeah’ and interrupted me mid sentence i said wow you’re not ? even pretending to listen to me ? and she looks me dead in the eyes and says “sometimes it’s best just to tune you out” and goes back to what she was doing

#my own MOTHER. can’t even pretend to care when i talk #nobody wanna talk to me fr fr 🥹🥹🥹#fucking sick of being ignored and talked over #ppl talk to me i try to contribute to the conversation they just. don’t even acknowledge what i said #i know i’m a good listener and that’s fine but i’m fucking sick of people just. using me as something to talk at #and not actually have a god damn conversation #whatever #fuck this whole god damn earth #snow.txt

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wileys-russo · 25 days

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‘April fools!’ Arsenal dressing room/ field

april fools II arsenal wfc

"kyra hurry up!" you hissed at the younger girl who was fussing about, tossing a boot at her head as it connected. "hey! thats not helping me go any faster dickhead." kyra huffed hauling it back as you ducked and it clattered against the lockers making both your eyes widen.

"nobody is coming." laia stuck her head out of the change rooms and gave you both a thumbs up behind her back, the dedicated lookout in this little mission.

"if we get caught in here all of this is for nothing." you warned, eyes darting to the door and bouncing nervously on the balls of your feet. "yeah yeah yeah just make sure nobody comes in then!" kyra rolled her eyes and turned back to it.

"come on ky lunch will be done soon!" you groaned quietly as finally kyra closed the last locker door with a click. "done! god relax you're gonna go grey." the australian teased ruffling your hair as the three of you collected the evidence and high tailed it out.

"whats our excuse again?" kyra stopped you once you'd disposed of said evidence, a hand on both of on your shoulders. "my hamstring was tight, we went to physio, nobody was there so you helped me tape it." you echoed, lifting the edge of your shorts to how the horrendous home taping job that solidified your story.

"that is so bad." laia shook her head at kyras efforts with a frown making you chuckle and kyra push at her shoulder. "didn't see you offering to help codi!" the australian rolled her eyes at the catalonian who shrugged.

"i only agreed to be the lookout." your friend reminded pointing her finger at the pair of you. "yes and if we get caught, you were never involved." you patted the taller girls shoulder condescendingly.

"good. now just don't look suspicious!" kyra poked at your cheeks as you smacked her hand away with a scowl, following after you as you grabbed your trays, the three of you sitting at different tables.

"what have you been up to?" you'd barely sat down at a table before leah appeared, dropping into the seat beside you and sending you a firm look. with a mouthful of food you rolled your eyes and lifted your shorts to show the taping job.

"who did that monstrosity?" leah scoffed eyes raking your leg as you swallowed. "kyra, we couldn't find the staff." you shrugged, stephs eyes narrowing now across the table at the mention of her own national teammate.

"you were with kyra?" steph questioned clearly suspicious. "yes. am i not allowed to hang out with kyra?" you shot back, squirming as leah pinched your leg, shoving your national captain away from you with a glare.

"the pair of you are nothing but trouble." steph shook her head as you scoffed. "steffy you told me to befriend her and make her feel welcome when she signed!" you argued, shoveling in another forkful of food, well aware your window of time to do so was dwindling.

"because you're both the same age and i wanted her to feel part of the team! leah told you the same about making laia feel welcomed." steph argued as you huffed and swallowed your mouthful.

"which i did. so what im hearing is i did what i was asked and the only people who seem to have any issues with it...are the two people who asked me to do it? makes perfect sense!" you rolled your eyes again.

"she makes a point." lia chimed in with a shrug as you shot her a grin, the swiss woman near always taking your side. "you would think that." leah groaned at her best friend who stole a tomato off your tray with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

thankfully the topic seemed to be dropped, you hardly contributing to the conversation as you busied yourself eating, ignoring the warnings that you were going to choke yourself as time dwindled down and the girls all started to group up and head to the media room.

finishing your food you returned your tray, following after lia and steph who'd kindly waited for you while you finished. a third person joined you, arm setting over your shoulder as she fell into step with you.

"you've done something today. what did you do?" alessia asked quietly, knowing you all too well having played alongside you for years now before she'd made the move to arsenal.

"nothing! why does everyone keep saying that?" you huffed trying to shrug her off but the taller girl didn't budge. "because you're a little shit, and you've been far too well behaved recently." alessia stated honestly with a snicker.

"god you pull a prank one time and get a reputation!" you groaned with a shake of her head. "one time!?" alessia scoffed in disbelief, tugging at your ear with a roll of her eyes. "alright, maybe a few times." you smiled innocently as the two of you entered the media room, kyra waving you down where she'd saved you a seat.

"not a chance." leah grabbed the back of your top and tugged you into the seat in front of her, sitting you beside laura as alessia sat down on your other side and you heard kyra groan as steph took the seat she'd saved for you.

without kyra or laia to chat with your attempts to distract yourself during the media briefing failed, leah having no problems shoving your shoulder in warning from behind anytime you tried to speak to those around you.

eventually you gave up all together, crossing your arms and sinking into your seat, alessia chuckling in amusement and you glared at her as she spoke quietly with lotte, leah of course making no move to tell her off.

you'd honestly forgotten all about your earlier activities by the time media finished and everyone started to head back to the change rooms to collect their belongings.

but you were swiftly reminded as now without many of the older girls around, all too eager to get home to bother with supervising you, laia and kyra fell into step on either of your sides, the three of you hurrying as to not miss any of the action.

you made it just in time, the first glitter bomb going off as laia subtly hurried to grab all three of your bags, the least suspect of your trio as you and kyra hovered by the door ready for a hasty escape.

as everyone was staring at a glittery vic and teyah in shock, alessia was the next victim opening her locker and getting a faceful of glitter, jolting backwards and letting out a cry.

but right as the three of them started to look around a change room filled with laughter for the culprit, things took a slightly less favorable turn.

you hadn't realised that steph had hung back to talk with jonas, lia offering to grab her keys and bag since they had plans to go and get a coffee and go for a walk with calvin after training, leah of course inviting herself as she stuck to her best friends side.

similarly caitlin had ducked off for a quick shower, katie stepping in to pack up her girlfriends bags for her so they could head off once she was done.

so right as alessia's eyes found yours and narrowed, jaw clenched and fists balled as she started toward you, the other two glitter bombs went off but did not hit their intended targets.

"april fools!" laia cheered happily not reading the room as kyra winced and you smacked your hand against your head, the catalonian looking at you both with a confused frown at your reactions.

now seven glitter covered woman advanced toward you, leah, alessia and katie looking particularly vengeful as you laughed nervously and felt kyra grab your hand.

"it was all her idea! codi run!" but you gasped as kyra used your interjoined hand to shove you forward, now grabbing laia and sprinting off to safety as you scrambled back to your feet.

"come on! its washable glitter its harmless, nobody got hurt!" you pleaded clasping your hands together and backing up as they continued to advance toward you.

"nobody got hurt...yet." katie warned seriously as your eyes widened and you tried to dart out of the room, but kyra's getaway scheme had worked as you didn't have enough time and hands grabbed at you, your body hauled up and over alessia's shoulder.

"hey hey hey where are we going!" you struggled in her grip, leah and katie following now as you were carried out of the room and everyone else hung back to shower.

"to the ice baths. we're gonna see if you can beat stina's record kid...seven minutes for seven victims seems fair." leah grinned as alessia kicked open the recovery room door.

"what come on its fucking freezing today and i did not act alone this isn't fair!" you groaned punching alessia's back before katie grabbed your hands rendering them useless as alessia piped up next, and you'd unfortunately forgotten she was your ride for today.

"and then you can walk home in the rain and think all about your beloved april fools."

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #alessia russo x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #leah williamson x reader #laia codina x reader

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noosayog · 2 months

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003 an unexpectedly sweet valentine

❥ warnings/content: kuroo tetsuro x reader, sfw, slight angst if you squint, mostly fluff, jealousy

❥ wc: 3.4k

❥ valentine's masterlist, regular masterlist

“Good morning, senpai!”

Your senior of one year turns around as he changes from his outside shoes to his inside shoes. “Huh? Oh, morning.”

“It’s raining hard today, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure is.”

“Did you bring an umbrella?”

“Nah, forgot it.”

“Aw, too bad! I remembered mine today!”

“Good for you.”

The conversation comes to a lull. Senpai stands there looking at you, as if to ask, anything else?

Somewhat awkward, you wave to him. “Have a good day, then!”

He nods, turning away to make his way to his first class of the day.

“Wowwww,” a voice from above you drawls. “That was a painful watch.”

You swivel around to face Kuroo, your classmate.

“Shut up, Kuroo,” you growl at him.

“‘Morning Senpai! Have a good day Senpai!’” He mocks you in a high pitched voice.

You give him a swift kick in the shins, satisfied when he bends over to cradle the spot.

Kenma appears from behind him, shaking off the stray droplets clinging to his hair. “You deserved that.”

“Morning, Kenma,” you snicker.

Kenma returns your greeting, heading off to his own class in the year below yours and Kuroo’s.

A tap on your shoulder gets your attention. “Sorry about him. He’s just in a bad mood because of the rain.”

“Kai-kun!” you greet. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for this idiot.”

“Hey!” the idiot in question protests.

Another head pops out from behind Kai. “What’s going on? Talking rooster head trash? That’s a conversation I can contribute to.”

“Morning, Yakkun.”

“Can we not talk about me like I’m not here?” Kuroo complains.

“Shall we head to class?” Kai asks, easily ignoring him.

“Yep!”

“Hello? We’re all in the same class here!” Kuroo wails as he runs after the three of you.

In your homeroom, Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai all head to their seats as you take yours by the window. You greet your friends who sit by you, excited to ramble about your encounter with the cool Senpai from the basketball team whom you’ve recently developed a crush on.

“What do you like about that guy anyway?” your friend asks.

“What do you mean? There’s so much to like!”

She gives you a dubious look. “For example…?”

You start counting on your fingers. “Well, he’s captain of the basketball team, so he’s tall-”

“You like him because he’s tall?”

“He’s older, so he’s more mature-”

“Right,” she nods sarcastically. “Being a year older makes him so mature.”

With two fingers up, you’ve run out of reasons. Your friend rolls her eyes at you.

“Personally, I prefer the volleyball guys in our class.”

“Kai-kun?” you nod empathetically. “I can totally see that. He’s kind and smart. Yakkun, too. He’s energetic and outgoing.”

“Kuroo’s included in that group too, you know.”

You wrinkle your nose.

“What’s your beef with him? He’s tall, smart. Lots of people in our grade would say he’s funny too. He’s actually pretty popular.”

You shake your head, “the most that guy has going for him is his friendship to Kenma. I can totally see someone getting close to him so that he’ll introduce them.”

Your friend just shrugs patronizingly, like you’re beyond reasoning with.

“Anyway,” you switch topics. “Senpai forgot his umbrella today, and it’s going to rain all day. I’m going to watch basketball practice afterschool and offer to share my umbrella with Senpai on the way home. Wanna come with?”

“Pass.”

You shrug. “Suit yourself.”

–

“Did you hear that?” Yaku elbows Kuroo, whispering not very quietly.

Kuroo swipes at the elbow, rubbing his ribs and mumbling for Yaku to keep it down.

“Damn, what’d you do? She thinks you’re such a loser.”

“Gee, thanks,” Kuroo grits out.

Yaku holds his hands up in surrender. “Just pointing out the facts.”

“Hey, now. Let’s not be too hasty,” Kai cuts in. “It might just be a temporary infatuation with the basketball club guy. There’s still hope!”

Kuroo groans and slumps forehead first onto his desk. Even when Kai is trying to be nice, it makes him feel so pathetic.

–

When the final class of the day ends, Kuroo lingers in the classroom, still racking his brain for an excuse to keep you from going to the basketball club. He trails after you as you get up to leave the classroom.

You’re taking a drink of water when Kuroo watches your friend shoulder into you a bit too hard, leaving you to stumble backwards, hands flailing to keep your balance. The uncapped water bottle in your hands goes flying into Kuroo, dumping its contents into the bag in his hands, containing the spare jerseys the volleyball team had planned on using for practice matches today.

Kuroo drops the bag, arms coming up to support your back and keep you upright.

When you’re stable on your feet, you quickly pick up your water bottle to staunch the flow of water, though it doesn’t matter much anymore given the jerseys are all soaked through.

“Hey! What did you do that for?” you scold your friend. You turn to Kuroo, “thanks and sorry…” you trail off, not knowing how to remedy the situation.

When Kuroo catches the wink your friend sends him, he catches on. “Aww man, now what’re we going to do for practice?”

Yaku cuts in. “Oh, it’s fine. We can just use the spare-”

Kai slaps a hand over Yaku’s big mouth, dragging him off towards the gym. “We’ll head to practice first. Why don’t you figure out the situation, Kuroo?”

“Kuroo, I’m so sorry, but this was all her fault. Hey-” You turn to where your friend was standing, but she’s gone.

“We needed these for today’s practice. You’re just gonna have to help me out with the laundry to get these dried before the 3v3 drills then.”

You pull a very displeased expression, mumbling something Kuroo can’t quite hear but is definitely a curse out of your friend.

“Can’t I please make it up to you some other way? I have really important plans today.”

Sure, as if trying to suck up to that basketball captain counts as really important plans.

“All you have to do is toss these in the dryer and wait until they’re done. It’s the least you can do.”

You offer a begrudging, “fine,” hauling the wet bag and following behind a triumphant Kuroo.

As promised, it takes you less than an hour to dry the jerseys, passing the time by watching the volleyball club boys warm up and run drills. As you pull the jerseys out of the machine, Kuroo meets you by the locker room.

“All done! Now can I-”

“Man, it took too long to dry them. We had to restructure our drills since it’s too late to start practice matches now.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Look, Kuroo. I’m sorry, but I have no say over how long a dryer cycle is.”

“I know. It just really put us in a hard spot, especially given that Nationals are around the corner…” he sighs audibly. “But it’s fine, I know it’s not totally your fault.” He sighs again.

“Ok, ok” you give in. “What can I do to make up for it?”

It takes all of Kuroo’s willpower to suppress a victorious grin. “Hmmm,” he pretends to deliberate. “Aha!” he exclaims. “You could be our manager until Nationals are over. That’d help the team and Coach Nekomata out a lot.”

You hesitate. “Manager? Why don’t you just find a permanent one? Everyone says you’re all popular-”

“Everyone?” he smirks.

“Yeah. Personally, I don’t really get it, but,” you miss the slight dimming of his grin. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d be more willing… I mean, more helpful than I would be.”

“Figures that you’d try to weasel your way out of this.”

“Weasel my way- wait just a second-”

“It’s fine,” Kuroo cuts you off, turning around to leave you there. “You’re right, we’ll just find someone who’s more responsible.”

“Hold on, Kuroo!” you grab the back of his jacket, pulling him back.

This time, the grin on Kuroo’s face spreads in full force.

“I’ll do it. I am not irresponsible.”

“Great, you can start tomorrow.”

You cross your arms over your chest, huffing indignantly like you’re satisfied that you’ve restored your reputation, your plans to be alone with basketball-senpai completely forgotten.

Hook, line, sinker.

–

Your job as the volleyball club manager is actually enjoyable. Save for the extended time you now need to spend in Kuroo’s company, you make friends with the rest of the team, especially the enthusiastic younger class.

During lunch time, Kuroo will often request that you join Kai, Yaku, and him on the roof.

“Why? I deserve freedom from you outside of volleyball club hours.”

“Interesting that your commitment to taking the position of manager only extends to certain hours.”

“What? Slander! I’m committed-”

“We were going to discuss and review our plays from previous games, but I guess we’ll manage without you. Just hand me the notebook and we’ll review without you-”

You stand abruptly, slamming your palms on your desk. With the notebook in question in hand, you storm past him, making your way to the roof access stairs without another word.

“Well?” you demand when Kuroo doesn’t follow. “Are we going or what?”

Kuroo grins. “Coming.”

In your indignation, you fail to ever catch the grins from Yaku, Kai, and your friends.

Sometimes, those lunches end up being just you and Kuroo, Yaku and Kai often being called away halfway through. Once all volleyball business is complete, you and Kuroo finish eating in relative peace. Often, he lies down to spend the rest of break napping. You tell yourself it’s too awkward to leave him there without a word, so you sit quietly to keep him company.

One time, you had awoken to a sound of a camera shutter, realizing belatedly that you had fallen asleep on Kuroo’s shoulder. When you crane your head to face the boy in question, eyes wide and swiping at your lip in case you were drooling, you’re met with the usual smug grin on his lips, but his eyes are warm. Instead of smacking him and throwing a scatching remark, your cheeks heat up and you avert your eyes like an embarrassed schoolgirl.

–

When February rolls around, the entire student body is buzzing with the excitement of Valentine’s Day. You haven’t had any more development with basketball senpai, with your time mostly preoccupied with volleyball, but you’ve long standing plans to make Senpai chocolate. You’ve done research by asking around to find out that Senpai likes dark chocolate.

“Have you thought about making the volleyball boys chocolate?” Mari asks you.

“Yep, I plan to.”

“And Kuroo?”

You choke on your water. “Why would you single him out? Of course… because he’s a part of the volleyball boys…” you trail off.

Your friend props her chin on her palm, expression bored but the corner of her lips twitch. “Uh huh,” she says in obvious disbelief.

Your inner turmoil is exacerbated when Kenma says to you, the day before Valentines, “despite his looks, he likes sweeter chocolate.”

“Who?”

Kenma just gives you a look, waving as he makes his way home.

The following day, you show up to school, hands full with all the chocolates you made the night before. Each bag is wrapped in an individual baggie with a white ribbon except for one that is wrapped special, in a small box with red ribbon.

For Senpai, obviously.

Your first stop of the day is your friend. You hand her a bag and she smiles, quickly opening it and popping it in her mouth right in front of you.

“What do you think?” you ask.

“Mmmm,” she closes her eyes, savoring the sweet treat. “So sweet. Milk chocolate? Weren’t you going on about how Senpai likes dark chocolate?”

“I… made different batches.” you lie. You brandish the box with the red ribbon. “Senpai’s was made special.”

“Still sticking to giving that boring Senpai chocolate, huh?”

“He is not boring!”

“Sure, whatever.” She peeks into your bag to look at the array of all the baggies you plan on giving out today. She looks up at the red ribbon box in your hands then back into your bag. “Just that one box? And it’s for Senpai?”

“... yup.”

“What was that pause?”

“What pause?”

She just rolls her eyes and turns back to her textbook.

–

“Did you hear that? It’s for the basketball guy.” Yaku elbows Kuroo’s ribs.

“Can you stop elbowing me?”

“That’s not important right now! She’s still going to give that guy chocolate!”

“I know, I heard,” Kuroo hisses.

Kai gives Kuroo a pitiful look that ticks him off. “What are you going to do?”

“What is there to do?” Kuroo replies, keeping his eyes focused on the homework he has on his desk. “I’m going to grab a drink from the vending machines. Be right back.”

He gets up to walk to the furthest vending machine in the courtyard. Maybe the walk and the winter air from the garden will help him cool his head.

When he gets back with a can of tea in his hands, Kuroo sees you standing at his desk, where Kai and Yaku are still loitering around before class starts. He watches you hand each of them a bag tied tastefully with white ribbon. He lingers in the shadow of the doorway, watching Yaku and Kai thank you, then you walking back to your desk without leaving a third bag for Kuroo.

He feels like he could use another walk right then, but the teacher catches him in the doorway and pushes Kuroo into the classroom to start class for the day.

He makes eye contact with Kai and Yaku, who shake their heads at him, answering his unasked question.

–

At lunch, Kuroo disappears on his own. He thinks to himself that he just needs the time to cool down, in fear that he’d embarrass himself in front of you by asking where his portion of chocolate is. He would feel bad enough if you just handed him giri-chocolate that you have everyone else. He would die, though, if you said you didn’t prepare him any at all.

As he sits alone in the rarely frequented stairwell of the west wing of campus, he sighs.

What does that guy have that he doesn’t anyway? Every conversation Kuroo has overheard between you two has been terribly boring. He gives dry, one-worded answers. He’s not funny nor particularly smart. He’s tall but so is Kuroo? Maybe he’s good at his sport, but Kuroo is taking his team to Nationals. He’s obviously not into you, whereas Kuroo himself? You get the picture.

Anyway, he doesn’t think it very presumptuous to think of himself as a better match for you. The two of you joke and laugh together. You get along with his closest friends. Despite your sharp tongue, you seem to be comfortable enough around him. He reminisces of the one time you fell asleep on his shoulder on the roof. He had been wide awake and frozen solid, scared that even breathing too loudly would shatter the moment. He would never tell anyone that the photo Yaku had snapped of you drooling against his shoulder was saved in a password-protected folder in his phone.

He sighs again, all the tension leaving his body as he lets himself feel all the feelings he’s been holding back. A heavy arm rests over his eyes, squeezing them tightly when he feels the sting behind his irises threatening to surface.

Unable to pull himself together enough to face you in class, he ends up at the infirmary for the rest of the day, citing a headache. The nurse offers one of the beds and Kuroo gladly takes it, napping the afternoon away, a temporary escape from thoughts of you.

The break is short-lived as he wakes up just in time for the last class of the day. Not even the prospect of his favorite subject, science, can improve his mood as he drags his feet to the lab classroom. He makes his way to Yaku and Kai’s table, not meeting your eyes. His teammates give him questioning looks but say nothing when Kuroo shakes his head and immerses himself in the lesson for the day.

Class goes by even more quickly than normal and before he knows it, the dreaded time of day has arrived. He packs slowly, hating himself for wanting to eavesdrop on your plans for the rest of the afternoon.

“So, what’s the plan?” he hears your friend ask you. “Volleyball or basketball?”

“Not sure,” you reply. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow!”

Kuroo watches as you hastily grab your things and leave the classroom. He ignores your friend’s prying eyes on him as he walks out after you.

In the hallway, he spots you speeding away towards the shoe lockers. As he contemplates chasing after you, he hears a call of your name.

Kuroo watches in mild horror when he finds that the voice belonged to the captain of the basketball team. His eyes stay glued to the boy who approaches you, all charming smiles and grinning snake eyes. The two of you are too far for Kuroo to hear your conversation but he can see your expression morphing into one of bashfulness.

All his emotions spill over as the scene unfolds right in front of him in slow motion. He watches your hands dig into your pocket, making the motions to pull something out and likely hand it to your senpai. It all happens so quickly, but before he knows it, Kuroo’s grabbing your hand and dragging you away.

Something - wind? His boiling hot jealousy? - roars in his ears, any protests you let out going right over his head. It’s only when the two of you reach the garden behind the gymnasium that he lets go.

He freezes, back still turned away from yours.

It hits him then. He drops your hand like a hot potato, almost giving into the overwhelming urge to bury his face in his hands, crouch down so low that he’s buried in the ground.

“Kuroo?” he hears you call tentatively.

How was he going to get himself out of this one?

So he does what he does best with you.

Cower.

He turns around, putting two hands behind his head to feign nonchalance. He forces out a laugh and in the lightest voice he could possibly muster at a time like this, he sticks his foot in this mouth.

“You were gonna give your chocolates to that senpai, huh? You better be glad I interrupted and saved you the embarrassment of getting rejected in front of the entire student body.”

You blink at him. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, I really saved that guy back there. Knowing your cooking skills, you might as well have poisoned him-”

A box thrown at his face interrupts him. He catches it before the fall to the ground, staring at the offending hand that launched the item. He then looks to you, thoughtless as your eyes begin to water.

“They’re for you, asshole. If you don’t want ‘em so badly, go throw them away for all I care.”

As you turn around and storm off, Kuroo sees one of your hands coming up to rub angrily at your face.

He gives chase once more today. It’s easy to catch up as he gets in front of you, face craning to look at you, to validate that he’s not going crazy and you’re really crying over him.

You turn away stubbornly until Kuroo grabs your arms, holding them up in the air to trap you.

“Let go!” you thrash.

But it’s easy for Kuroo to keep them still, unusually quiet as he looks and looks until he gets his fill and confirms that he’s not dreaming.

“They’re for me?” he asks.

“Yes, you idiot. Do you wanna add deaf to your list of defining characteristics? It can be right up there with moronic, insensitive, stupid-”

He chuckles; he doesn't even know where it came from, really.

Relaxing, he lowers your arms back down but keeps his hold. “And are they the ones you made for all your friends? Or are they…” he trails off, staring into your eyes to get his meaning across.

You cringe, neck shrinking to retract your face into your scarf. Averting your eyes, you mutter, “the second one.”

He suddenly engulfs you in his arms. The squeeze he gives you forces a little squeal from you.

“Oh my god,” he rubs his cheek against the top of your head like an overgrown cat. “You’re so cute, I could die.”

Your cheeks feel hot as you repress the urge to smile.

Instead, you mumble, “die then.”

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literaila · 2 months

Text

fighting

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi gets in trouble at school

warnings: they are a family (and hate each other)

last part | next part

year three.

your mouth is a straight line, and you know both of them are staring at you.

you're all sitting in the car, three hours before megumi's supposed to get out of school, and it's been quiet for the last ten minutes.

you don't have anything to say, you think. nothing that will make sense of the mess in your head.

and satoru's eyes are glaring into your head, burning your skin. you want to shove him and tell him to leave you alone--even though he's not doing anything--but that seems hypocritical.

especially considering that megumi is suspended for the rest of the week.

“okay,” satoru says, after his eyes have basically glazed over from focusing on you for too long. “megumi, can you say something? i think her head's about to explode.”

“i'm fine,” you hiss. and then you glance at megumi in the rearview mirror and feel a little bad.

he looks smaller than usual. his eyes are shifting from you to satoru, and his mouth is open like he wants to say something but isn't sure what. and, of course, he's scrunched himself up, almost a ball right behind you.

you don't want to be frustrated with him, but it seems inevitable. he's just a kid, you try to think, but it doesn't work. when you were a kid you didn't--

so yeah, you feel bad for him. not that bad though. you know he knows what you’re going to say.

megumi sighs (but it sounds more reminiscent of one of satoru’s many whines). “i’m… sorry.”

he might as well be telling you that he cut out your heart, and blew up a church with how dreary his voice is.

satoru grins. “there. we’re cool now.” he reaches back and ruffles megumi’s hair. his arms are too long for anything in the world. he's basically an arachnoid. “y/n…” he hums. “you can stop frowning now. he apologized.”

you glance over at him, unimpressed. satoru will brush this away like everything else.

even though you know he cares--and doesn't want you to be mad, or megumi to feel guilty.

his stupid smile almost makes you break, but you look away.

“sorry for what megumi?” you ask, softly, trying to ignore your stupid roommate. he’s been downgraded.

“…hitting those kids.”

“are you actually sorry?” you clarify, even though you know the answer.

he’s silent.

you can see out of your peripheral when satoru gives him a nasty look. mouthing something to him.

at least you know where megumi gets this from. his protectiveness is not unique to you, but at least satoru does it jokingly. at least he only destroys the already destroyed.

maybe you're thinking too hard about this.

you sigh, this time, rubbing your eyes with one hand. “look, megumi, we can talk about it later.”

you could use a break from both of them. a couple of minutes to yourself to... probably cry in your bed and wonder why the world is so terrible.

“um, no we can’t.” satoru says. “i’m going to be gone later. i told you about my—“

you pinch his thigh over the gearshift. “we’ll talk without you.”

he gasps. “excuse you,” he says, “but i am a part of this conversation.”

“yes, i think you’ve done plenty to contribute to this, gojo.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you try to smile at him, but it feels more like a grimace. “just that you’re the one sparing with megumi on the weekends.”

satoru frowns. “we’re practicing. you want him to be as weak as every other shikigami user in the world?” he asks, rhetorically.

“i like sparring,” megumi interjects, like it matters.

“maybe a little too much,” you say, under your breath.

satoru grabs your hand from his leg, intertwining his fingers with yours. it would be sweet--a nice connection--if you weren't actively trying to hurt him.

maybe megumi gets it from both of you.

“okay, megumi,” satoru sings. “you can’t hit your classmates, okay? look i fixed it.”

you glare at him. then turn into your driveway.

satoru groans. “why are you both so difficult? megumi, just apologize, and y/n, he made a mistake. he’s not gonna do it again.”

“i’m not talking about this right now,” you tell him, shaking your hand from his, wanting not to be mad at either of them.

but you’re mad at both. they both suck and you love them too much to even yell.

“i’m difficult?” megumi retorts.

satoru groans again and you all get out of the car.

“go get started on your homework,” you tell megumi, after you unlock the door. “we can talk in a bit.”

your voice is naturally softer with him. megumi’s too cute to stay angry at.

satoru doesn’t have that issue.

megumi looks back at you, his eyes inquisitive, his mouth pinched. “you’re mad at me?”

you sigh, hanging the keys on the hook. “no, megs. it’s fine. we just need to talk about it. later.

“you’re mad,” he repeats, all-knowing. seriously, who allowed satoru to raise him?

“i… maybe a little. not really at you. just the situation.”

“i’m sorry.”

you shake your head, hand on your back as you gently nudge him down the hall. “just go hang out for a bit. relax.”

you try not to notice how he rubs his fists, tiny bruises forming on his tiny knuckles.

satoru walks in behind you, bumping into you purposefully. “start writing your opening statement,” he adds, grinning at you both.

you push him away and megumi rolls his eyes.

you walk into the kitchen, thinking about moving megumi to a new school—a new family. they’ll probably do better than you’re doing. at least there he won't have one parent who actively eggs him into violence every day.

you know satoru is following you (because when isn’t he?) but you don’t expect a hand tapping on your arm, and wary blue eyes meeting yours.

dark blue eyes.

“can we talk now?” megumi asks, his voice softer than usual. you can tell he feels bad, but you know that it’s only because you’re upset.

and it’s not even him. you just wish that he had a better response to these things. that he didn’t feel like fixing everything was his responsibility.

you’re not sure where you went wrong, but you know that it was somewhere.

“megumi… i just need to think for a bit. i’m really not mad.” this time you actually smile at him, because even if he’s beating kids up in school, he’s so sweet to all of you. so cautious.

(except for satoru, but he deserves it).

“i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean to get in trouble.”

satoru snorts from behind you. he’s leaning against the wall, watching.

lord knows he wouldn’t be any help—even if he actually was contributing to the conversation.

you swallow, because you really don't want to tell megumi anything. not without running it through satoru first, at least. without considering the consequences.

but he looks very worried, and you don't want to leave him to obsess over this by himself.

“i just don’t understand why…” you shake your head. you’re not going to make any sense of a nine-year-old mind. “you can’t hit people because you’re upset. you know that.”

“they were messing with a girl in class,” he says, frowning. then he looks to satoru, his head tilted. “i thought that’s what you told me? i’m stronger, i can help.”

“uh….” satoru scratches the back of his neck, wincing. he's lucky that he's several feet away from you.

you turn. “what?”

“i—“ he holds his hands up in defense immediately. “i may or may not have mentioned that we, as in all of us, we’re meant to be upstanders, you know. not—“ he clears his throat. clasps his hands together. “bystanders.”

“satoru.” you groan, leaning against the counter. at least it's all coming together.

you need to bug him or something, just to monitor everything he says

satoru continues. “but i meant in public! with curses. not—not children,” he glares at megumi.

probably for ratting him out.

“but you said that if someone was in trouble—“

“can you stop talking?” satoru says to him, shaking his head, lips pouting pathetically. “i didn’t raise a snitch.”

you furrow your brows and megumi crosses his arms.

“satoru, you told him to fight people?”

he winces again, adjusting his glasses. “i meant… bad people.”

“they were bad,” megumi reassures you both because it obviously matters. “they tried to steal her backpack. that’s bad.”

you sigh, shaking your head.

you can't believe that you're still standing here, still contemplating what to say to him.

where did it all go wrong?

“was the backpack cool?” satoru wonders, going to stand right next to you, hand slinging around your shoulder. he ignores it when you try to push him off.

he's probably just trying to be annoying.

megumi frowns. “i don’t know, i didn’t ask her to—“

“stop talking, both of you.”

you ponder running away from all of them and starting a new life. rome is supposed to be nice this time of year, and you’ve been saving up…

but you’d feel bad for leaving tsumiki with the two of them. plus, satoru doesn’t know how to fill out his tax return.

“we’re talking,” satoru says, raising a brow at you. “you like that.” he grins at you like he’s solved world hunger or something.

with his stupid face and stupid mouth. you would move to rome just so you never had to look at him again and feel briefly distracted.

“i need a minute to think.”

the two boys share a look. how you’ve survived three years with them is questionable.

finally, you sigh again, rubbing your temple. “megumi, you know you can’t hit people. why didn’t you get a teacher? violence is never an option.”

satoru frowns. “what about—“

“in the real world,” you correct, glaring at him. “violence is not an option. don’t put your hands on other people. talk to someone.”

megumi kicks his foot against the hardwood. “i didn’t think they’d listen.”

you nudge his chin, getting him to look at you. “then you tell one of us. preferably not satoru. i know—i understand that you want to help, but hurting someone just to protect someone else isn’t any better than bullying, okay?”

“yeah, don’t bully your bullies," satoru waves a finger at him.

you roll your eyes, and megumi looks disheartened—annoyed maybe—but nods eventually.

not that you expect him to agree immediately anyway. megumi has never been fond of talking. even with all of you, he'd rather hug you than ask how your day is.

and it's fine, usually. you don't want to push him.

you also don't want to have to bail him out of jail.

“okay. good. if this ever happens again i'm homeschooling you.”

megumi doesn’t seem to mind this, shrugging at the threat.

you pause, then say, “actually, satoru is homeschooling you.”

the boy frowns.

satoru nudges your side, giving you a skeptical look. “no punishment? he’s just free to go? last time i tried to—“

“you were trying to put megumi in a headlock.”

“he was eating the last mochi! he knew i was saving it.”

you scowl at him. “it’s not even his fault,” you say, looking pointedly at him. then you brighten. “and he has to deal with you every day, that’s punishment enough.”

satoru opens his mouth, holding a hand in the air. then he closes it.

you turn around to see megumi smirking at him.

you roll your eyes. “what do you want to tell tsumiki?”

you'll have to pick her up in an hour or two, and she's going to ask questions. plus, megumi's scratched-up hands are not very discreet.

megumi’s face falls. “um—“

satoru starts laughing beside you, body shaking against yours, and you feel like there’s about to be another fight.

but at least you’re not upset anymore.

megumi says something to satoru--like shut up--but you're not really listening anymore. just looking between the two like they aren't the most important, special things in the world to you.

whatever happens, you think, is satoru's fault.

next part | series masterlist

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unbidden-yidden · 9 months

Text

Honestly at this point, I'm really uninterested in hearing any gentile's "critique" of Judaism.

Whatever it is, whatever you're about to say, I am 1000% certain that at least one Jew has already raised this issue in ways that are thoughtful and centered in respect for other Jews. Probably lots of Jews; possibly whole theological movements. It's even possible that this particular topic has been under active discussion for hundreds or even thousands of years.

Someone has already said this better than you will. Someone has already raised whatever issue you have and grounded it in their own experiences of having lived a Jewish life.

So just leave it to us. Just stop. You're not helping. At best you're white-knighting, at worst you're actively contributing to an antisemitic majority culture.

"Well I've never seen Jews discussing [x] topic!" Your ignorance is not reality. These conversations are happening, possibly offline and at our Shabbos tables or shuls only, but they are happening.

"Well [x] topic impacts me personally!" Does it? Does it really? Because unless you live in Israel or Palestine, no Jewish group - no matter how seemingly numerous we may be in your city or neighborhood - is actually powerful enough to affect large-scale (or even typically small-scale) changes. Our fundamentalism is, for better or worse, directed at other Jews. The most intense thing I've heard of outside of Israel is a community getting together to petition the city to allow an eruv or a concentrated effort to make a few neighborhood blocks particularly Jewish because they're within walking distance of an orthodox shul. All other issues - no matter how ugly the opinions - are something that is part of much larger social trends that unfortunately some Jews happen to be engaging in. We'll deal with them; you focus on your people.

"I'm just listening to ex-fundamentalist Jews and white-knighting trying to help them be heard and not shouted down!" So first of all, if you knew anything about this topic, they typically call themselves OTD (which I'm sure you know what that stands for, because you've been listening) and secondly, great! You should listen to them. But their critiques are not your critiques. I can go on all day long about my family and their bullshit, and I can even (sometimes) appreciate you chiming in supportively. But it hits different when you go off chattering to other people about how my family is bullshit.

"Okay fine - I'm taking all that in and accept that my critiques aren't wanted, but what CAN I do, since I am literally vibrating in place about how Those People Over There Are Wrong and cannot simply ignore them?" Best thing you can do? Honestly? Learn about Judaism thoroughly from a variety of people, and learn how to be a good ally against antisemitism in all the spaces you want us in. Judaism not feminist enough for you? Learn how to make your feminist spaces safe and welcoming for Jews. Judaism not queer or trans enough for you? Learn how to make your queer and trans spaces safe and welcoming for Jews. Whatever movement you think we're not supporting enough or not showing up for enough, or whoever it is you think we're oppressing? Find the Jews who are doing that work (they exist, I promise) and listen to what they tell you about how to make your spaces be better.

#look - I'll engage in these conversations with specific goyim on my terms #but that's for me to decide

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rileyslibrary · 1 year

Text

An Unlikely Duo

Request by ✨ anon: Can I perhaps get a Ghost x GN!Reader, where reader got transferred to TF 141 and has two personalities? Like cold and badass on the battlefield and super friendly and chirpy back at base. So Reader, on day 1, already sees Ghost as a best friend and she loves hugs, so she decides to hug him after a missions success and leaves him frozen and a blushing mess?

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,310

Notes:

Big thanks to my ✨ anon for requesting this. I enjoyed writing it! Hope I did well on my first request!

Fluff (the platonic kind)

Want more?

———————————————————————

You walk behind him, holding a container filled with freshly washed strawberries. His strides are long and confident, making it hard for you to keep up with him as you walk to the truck.

“Would you like a strawberry?” You ask, extending the container to him, but he ignores you and quickens his pace.

You try to catch your breath as you follow him, but it’s difficult. Whenever you think you’re closing the gap, he increases his speed and pulls away again. You break into a light jog to stay close.

“So, I presume... you’re not... a strawberry fan?” You ask, out of breath. Instead of responding, he lets out a dismissive “tsk” and continues walking.

“Why don’t you like str-”

“Get that damn thing away from me and keep moving,” he says as he pushes your hand away. “We have work to do; no time for strawberries.”

You come to a complete halt. “With all due respect, Lieutenant, strawberries are-”

“Just get in the damn car,” he orders, opening the back door and gesturing for you to get inside.

It’s your first day as the newest member of Task Force 141, and the base already feels like a powder keg. But that doesn’t bother you; you’re excited to be a part of such an elite team and contribute as much as possible to future missions. Soap and Gaz were surprised but amused by your cheerful personality when they met you this morning. However, not everyone on the team seems to be on the same page; Ghost was less than impressed. He sized you up from head to toe, looking for any sign that you were ready for the mission. But, instead of finding comfort, he was met by your cheery attitude and endless questions about his fruit preferences.

“What is this, Captain?” He grumbled at Price, “I asked for an explosives specialist, not a fucking Jack Russell.”

“Laswell swears by their abilities,” Price reassured him, “just give ’em a chance, brother...”

Despite his trust in the captain, Ghost remained skeptical. Was it the way you expressively waved your hands while speaking? Was it because you couldn’t stop talking about strawberries? Was it because you couldn’t stop talking in general? Whatever the reason, Ghost was clearly not on board.

He has the same attitude as he sits across from you in the truck, driving to your assigned mission. It’s a look of concern and contempt. as if he can’t believe what fate has brought him this time—like he’s been dealt bad cards yet again.

But that’s okay; you’re used to feeling like an outcast, and you’re not going to let that get in the way of this mission’s success.

“Yo, Lt.?” You ask excitedly, attempting to break the ice by pulling a purple star-shaped charm from your pocket, “Do you like it?”

He looks at you with half-lidded eyes. “You look like you just got out of a toy store.” He comments flatly.

“That wasn’t my question, sir,” you say wryly, “and if that’s the case, then you look like you just got back from trick-or-treating.” You smile and attach the charm to your assault rifle.

“Take that off this instance,” he says, “I won’t let you and your sparkles hinder our position.”

“Okay, first of all, they’re not sparkles—they’re sequins,” you say, waving your gun around so he can see the charm, “and second, they won’t even see it when they’re dead.”

“Stop talking.” He sighs.

“I’m conversing, not talking.”

“Then stop conversing.”

“Like, who doesn’t like strawberries?” you ask, lowering your voice.

“I told you to stop.”

“And sequins are pretty cool, man.” You mutter to yourself as you cross your hands over your chest.

“Shut it and put your helmet on; we’re almost there,” Ghost says sternly.

You fall silent as you gaze out the window at the passing scenery. The tension in the truck is intense, but you refuse to let it get to you. Instead, you take a deep breath and relax.

As the truck comes to a stop, Ghost explains the goal of the mission: get to the door where the valuable information is stored and collect as much intel as possible. After his brief rundown, you quickly exit the vehicle and assume position. It’s game time, and you’re determined to prove to everyone what you’re capable of.

You move fluidly through the environment, using your firearms, knives, and bare hands with precision to take out any targets that come your way. You are agile and swift, never staying in one place for too long and using your surroundings to your advantage. He takes quick glimpses at you every now and then to check if you are okay. He seems impressed yet wary; as if he’s testing you to see if you’re up for the challenge, yet careful enough to not put you in danger. As you work through the guarded area, you keep calm and focus on the task, finally reaching the steel-framed door. However, the door remains unyielding despite using military-grade hammers and refuses to budge.

You turn towards Ghost to plan your next move when you notice an enemy approaching him from behind.

“Get down, Lt.!” You yell and throw a knife at the enemy. The lieutenant is stunned but quickly regains his composure. He turns to thank you, but you cut him off.

“This isn’t a playground, Lt.; I don’t need a babysitter, and I certainly won’t become yours.” You firmly tell him as you push him aside and place the purple star-shaped charm on the door’s lock. “Step back,” you order.

Ghost looks at you, puzzled.” What is-”

“You must learn when it’s the right time for chit-chat and when to listen to the specialist, sir; please take a step back.” You repeat, and he follows your instructions.

With everyone clear of the area, you pull the cord and duck for cover. Five seconds later, your bomb detonates, blasting open the door and granting you access to the information inside. You quickly survey the room and pinpoint the location of the vital information. You approach it with calculated precision, relying on your training and experience to predict potential threats. The room is full of guards, but you’re prepared for them; you take them out, using your weapons with deadly accuracy. The intel is kept in a secure case, and you begin working on cracking it open. You have a special tool for the job, and the lock gives way in seconds. You open the case and extract the valuable information.

After a quick glance at the documents, you are pleased to see that it is exactly what you were hoping for. Ghost calls for backup to secure the scene, collect the documents, and transport them back to the base. As he completes his orders, he turns to the team for a debriefing, but instead is met by the old, cheerful you.

“LT., WE DID IT!” You yell and leap onto Ghost, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. He freezes and raises his hands as if he’s been arrested for a crime.

“Get off me,” he orders with an unusually high-pitched voice.

“No, you deserve it.” You object and proceed to pat him on the back.

“I did nothing wrong to deserve this, soldier; get your fucking ha-”

“Shhh, Lieutenant.” You cut him off by putting your hand over his mouth to silence him. “You must feel the hug.”

“I said-”

“They’re right, Ghost,” Soap interrupts him with a sinister grin, “you must feel the hug.”

“Yeah, listen to the specialist, sir,” Gaz adds, trying hard not to laugh.

Ghost looks at Price for help, who has a satisfied smirk on his face. The captain turns to Ghost and mouths an inaudible “told you so,” establishing you as a valuable member of their team from now on.

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