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saltymongoose · 1 year

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wuh ohs!! sum of task force 141 is now in nevada!! and with player!! whatever will happen??

this iz an exxcuse to talk about Ghost Soap and Price abouts their reaction to nevada and our token nevadeans™

( this is about call of duty if ur unsure just wanted to place thiz lil note )

Oo, I was wondering if I was gonna get an ask about these guys. :)

To start off with, I think a large part of the 141's reaction to this whole situation depends on if they're also self-aware to some extent. You only play as Gaz and Soap within the MWII remake's campaign, so they're the best contenders for this since you'd have direct control over them. However, you're also in close proximity with Price and Ghost when you play as them, so given the whole "being near the Player's vessel = feeling some warmth" rule, they'd have to be aware that something's up. Plus, who knows if they'd be self-aware themselves from the multiplayer (as everyone in the 141 is an operator).

(More Under the Cut - this got extremely long. Basically fic length lol. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

If they were, then you'd be met with less skepticism when you explain who you are, and they would probably grow to trust you within a shorter period of time. It's less of a shock because they know you've always been there, fighting by their sides.

However, we're not gonna go too far into that (for now anyway lol) as this is very unlikely; the only reason the grunts became aware of you was that the Auditor decided to strengthen your connection to Nevada, and the world of CoD doesn't have that. The Employers' growing need to be closer to you motivated the Auditor and the others to tether your realities together in a stronger way, while I can't think of any reason for that to be the case with Task Force 141's universe.

In any case, you're definitely going to be questioned by them when they find you because they know damn well this isn't normally what Nevada looks like - or any place on earth, for that matter. And as the only human being they've seen in this wasteland so far, you might have something to do with them being there.

That's the line of logic they're coming from, and while it's completely understandable, it's also false to some degree. (Yes, you know who they are. No, you don't know why they're here. No, you don't know how they got here either, etc, etc.) This is where you have to basically give them a summary of who you are and what your role technically is in games. While this definitely gives them something of an existential crisis (nothing like being told your reality is nothing but a short game made for another human's entertainment), it definitely clears the air. You even talk about how you have positively zero experience with combat (before now, anyway), and reveal all of your more supernatural abilities with little hesitancy. You're laying all your cards out on the table for Price and his men to pick through as they please, and your being an open book is enough to get them to steer the conversation away from the interrogation-like territory it began with.

This opens the door to actually forming bonds with the 141, and although it will take quite a while for all of them to trust you like they would one of their own (Ghost especially), it'll happen. However, the closer you get with the Task Force, the less your own grunts feel the need to be amicable with them.

Even beginning their interactions, I don't think the boys would like them at all. Disdain would be a more fitting word; not only do these armored, dangerous people just decide to interrogate you (who's perfectly innocent), but they have the nerve to stick around afterward and get all buddy-buddy with you. It's annoying at best, and rage-inducing at worst.

To get to how they'd react to the Taskforce and vise-versa, we'll start with 2BDamned.

Doc is the leader of the four grunts you're with, and you're his superior in every way he believes possible. He's the first to praise your strategic expertise to the 141 in a way that's professional (he's sure you warranted more than the excited gloating of Deimos or Sanford), and will subtly brag about how much you've helped them. Yet, he finds himself getting unreasonably angry when the Captain of the 141, Price, does the same. And now that Price knows that you're the reason Gaz and Soap have managed to stay alive as long as they have (one of the reasons ofc - they're skilled, but he still likes ribbing on them), he's immensely grateful towards you, which translates into explicit trust and praise on his part. Not too much of the latter, but it's enough to convey how much he appreciates your help.

But Doc subconsciously takes Price's sort of mirroring of his own actions as something of a threat. Price has almost the same exact role in his group as Doc does with your group, so his doing all of this must be an attempt to sway you towards the 141 and himself. Plus, it's just not the same. Price's comments do not truly reflect how grateful he should be towards you, or how much value you have. So the fact that you take notice, even looking away bashfully before saying thank you whenever you're hit with a short compliment from the man, is enough to boil his blood. Even worse is that he knows what he's thinking is very slightly irrational, but the jealousy (and possessiveness) is enough to override any real rationality here.

Honestly, what makes it funnier is that Price actually respects 2B in his own way. It's obvious that you're the boss here, but he knows better than anyone how difficult it is to wrangle a group of very different people to get them to work together. So, both the Captain and 2BDamned view each other as similar, but for very different reasons. Where in one it inspires a sense of relatability, or even empathy, in the other it just fills them with jealousy.

As for Soap and Gaz, Doc finds them strikingly similar to Deimos and Sanford in how they'll joke around and be very open with you (Soap more so than Gaz). It's annoying because now he has to deal with two more outgoing people trying to get your attention all the time, and succeeding most of the time. While he's trying to find a way to peel them (and his own squad, to be frank) away from your side so you can get some time away with him to decompress, they're just content with trying to get to know you both better. It's not like Doc wants to make himself appear impolite, but he has zero patience for their antics. With Sanford and Deimos, he kind of has to have a good relationship with them for work, but the last thing 2B needs is two other people who have no consequence on his mission trying to impede it. Or at least, that's the justification he uses for being obtuse around them in response to their lackadaisical attitudes.

Although, it's not like Soap really cares about what opinion Doc has of him. In his eyes, their main priority is to (a) find a way to get home and (b) protect you (since you're not only their one ticket home but a really nice civilian who he wants to be friends with). So he'll just ignore whatever the tall grunt does, unless it comes out as a threat of course. Gaz feels a bit more threatened, probably because of all those parallels Doc has with his Captain, but he follows the lead of the others in his group by acting politely and disregarding any words and such against him. Plus, given how he's seen you chide Doc for being impolite (and the man give a rushed apology at that - which is really funny), he doubts anything more will come of it. Things are a bit tense, but that's alright.

With Ghost, I feel like the Lieutenant would instantly realize that there's some underlying reason why 2B has some restrained hostility towards the 141, and that it likely has to do with you. After being through what Ghost has in his history, he's got a pretty good "bullshit detector", so of course he'd notice how the grunt tenses up whenever you're mentioned, or how his grip tightens on whatever he's holding whenever you laugh with one of Soap's jokes. He thinks it's kind of weird, but it's obvious all of your grunts have a thing for you, so it makes enough sense. And he can put up with that. But what he can't deal with is any threats made to the 141. So he'll always be there watching, keeping an eye on things in case 2B or any of your little squad tries to do anything threatening. The 141's members can take care of themselves, but he's unwilling to let anything happen to them without his defense being there.

I think that in this case, Ghost is an even more menacing figure than Hank because at least Hank has a reason to keep Doc alive. This makes 2B a bit more hesitant to do anything rude, and I honestly think he kind of knows that Ghost is aware of what he feels for you. Perhaps not the complete depth of his affection, but enough to get an inkling as to why he acts the way he does. Which he can't tell is more or less threatening, since it just means they can be used for leverage. Although, it's not like he could do anything about the Task Force since it's obvious you like them and want to keep them around for now. So he'll continue being cordial and formal in all his interactions. It's what he does best, after all.

Moving on to Deimos and Sanford, they're more conflicted about this, because if this were any other circumstance, they might've even gotten along with the Task Force. They'd never admit it, but the Task Force is actually really easy to work with, and they can admire their skills. (And hey, at least Ghost bothers remembering which one of them is which, unlike a certain someone.)

However, like Doc, they feel like the Task Force is somehow threatening their own positions in your life, which sours their attitudes toward them. Deimos is kind of the unofficial "Funny Guy™️" in your life, so seeing Soap make you laugh and smile just makes it feel like something sharp is poking at his chest. God forbid if you laugh at Ghost's jokes too; once the masked man grows comfortable enough to tell his little quips it's over. You just find it so hilarious (especially with Soap's groaning about how bad they are), and you even follow up with your own. To Deimos, there's a sort of chemistry between you and the 141, and he doesn't like it. He isn't a very insecure person, but the fact that this whole situation is making him feel more uncertain about his future with you is something he hates.

With Sanford, he just disapproves of how close the 141 is getting to you. He respects Price, sure, and he can somewhat appreciate how the other three members of the 141 look out for you, but that's the thing; that is his job. It's Sanford's role to make your food, coffee, tea, whatever - not Gaz's or Ghost, or whoever else encroaches on his time with you. Protecting you from harm is something that he and Deimos do quite well, and they don't need anyone else trying to take their spotlight with that. Lord knows they have to deal with enough of that from Hank. Plus, there are some things regarding your friendship with the 141 that he (or any other grunt) can't compete with. You're all human. The 141 knows you better on a fundamental level because you come from a similar reality, and you are the same species. They probably are better at reading you and knowing what you like, and it pains him and Deimos whenever you make a reference to pop culture or something in your world and only the 141 understands. It makes him wonder how much he really knows you, and if he'd even be able to get everything about you. Because he really wants to; Sanford (and again, every other grunt in your entourage) seek to know you better than themselves, they want to have intimate knowledge about everything you are or want to be. And the fact that you're so different makes it difficult. The business with the 141 only makes it more painfully obvious.

Another issue for them is that it is generally hard to put a barrier between them and the 141. Sanford and Deimos are the more outgoing of your group, and as such, they're probably the first grunts that the Task Force feels comfortable trying to reach out to. Kind of like brothers in arms, except they're tall, grey Nevadans and not humans. (Hey, still better than Graves, right?) Soap and Gaz will be friendly with them, even Price in a more restrained way (professional, if you will), and Dei and San can't help themselves from responding in kind. Sure, they might kick themselves later when they find themselves getting really friendly, but it's hard to stop it from happening. Or they could convince themselves that becoming friends with the Task Force is a way to keep an eye on you when you're with the other team.

Either way, this won't prevent the lurking feelings of discomfort and envy they feel when they see you enjoying the company of the 141. But their hesitancy doesn't stop Soap and Gaz from treating them as they would any other combat team they work with, nor Price from including them in his strategies (that he works up with you, no doubt). This doesn't prevent Ghost from being more lax around them than with the other members of your group either, because he knows that Sanford and Deimos are the least likely to try anything. Not only because they want to do right by you, but because they're growing closer to the Task Force, albeit with great conflict. (He can relate; he felt much the same way when he had to work with Soap at first.)

For Soap and Gaz, they see San and Dei as sort of comrades (like the Los Vaqueros in a way), while Price kind of sees them as the sort of soldiers he'd worked with before. Perhaps not the types of people he'd hire for his own Task Force, but they remind him of those he interacted with in his time in the military. It's nostalgic, in a weird way. Especially since they're very far from human.

Now we have Hank. To put it shortly, compared to everyone else in your main group, Hank's approach is the direct opposite. He doesn't play nice with his own squad most of the time, why would he bother doing that with another group?

He doesn't see any benefit to having the 141 around and treats them as direct competition because that's what they are to him. To Hank, he can protect you and provide for you just fine on his own; you don't need anyone else, so he'll be there to whisk you away whenever they get too close. It doesn't matter if it's either of the Sergeants, Ghost, or Price, none of them should be spending large amounts time with you. There's no need. It's not like they have the same close bond that you share with him, nor do they have any deeper interest in you, so he doesn't see them as having any justifiable reason to be so buddy-buddy with you. It's a waste of your time for the benefit of theirs.

His behavior is centered around proving that he's better than them in nearly every conceivable way: more reliable than Price, more considerate and sweet than Gaz, better with combat than Soap and Ghost. He's obviously superior to them, so only pay attention to him, okay?

His mentality is very obvious, and it's insulting that the 141 find it more entertaining than anything. Soap will poke fun at you for having a guard dog, while Price will mention something about keeping him on a short leash. Gaz is more unsettled yet again, but confident that he won't do anything. He can't, not when you reprimand him every time he brings a knife or gun just too close to them. Ghost is significantly less amused, and the most likely to challenge his threats. In a rather smart move, he'll also point to you to show how much you disapprove of the tall grunt's actions, shaking his head at how Hank visibly wilts once he sees your disappointed stare.

You'd think that if he knew about how you wanted things to be nice with the 141, he'd care to put in more effort. But he won't, it's not in his nature. Instead, he'll just see to it that the threats happen behind closed doors. But Ghost will be there every step of the way, as a protector of his own squad and a helpful informant to you. Nobody likes a snitch, but seeing Hank try to make apologies to you is too good to pass up. A worthy punishment for threatening his squad, he'd say.

Besides, you're like the Captain of your grunts in a weird way, with how they listen to you. You might even deserve the title, with all your strategic expertise (which he knows he's seen now), and Soap has even taken to calling you that in jest a few times. And good Lieutenants always report to their superiors, right? So he's just acting according to the rules of the chain of command.

At the end of the day, for you, you have another group of individuals to help out, and ones that you've made friends with. Despite how much your grunts might dislike them, you've always been fond of Task Force 141, so getting to meet them is something you're excited about. Luckily for you, they quite like you as well. It's just those guard dogs of yours that seem to present a challenge, but they'd say you keep them trained well enough not to try anything too drastic. For now.

[Also, some general Nevada things regarding the 141 and their reaction:

They wouldn't like it there, it's too violent and they get enough of that at home. The landscape is fascinating but all of this stuff with the Nexus Core and the Employers is too complicated for them to want to deal with. Having you there makes it so much easier, so they appreciate you a lot (and want to protect you, since you're just an innocent civilian), but they would honestly much rather be home.

They're also somewhat horrified at the way grunts live. The only TV show that plays is Slaughter Time, and the predisposition to violence that all grunts seem to have is really concerning. It makes them more protective of you too, even throwing a few suspicious glances at your boys whenever they do something really harsh in combat. For once, they feel lucky that they're basically allies. Especially since Wimbleton can't die permanently, according to you. (Though Ghost is sure he can find a way to make that happen, if necessary lol.)]

#tw: yandere #Hank: *threatening the 141*#You: No. Bad. >:(#Hank: 8( 💔#thanks for sending this one in I rlly enjoyed it :)#I know it's actual military propaganda #but they're so cool #Y'know I honestly considered writing smth for this fandom at one point #and then I saw the livestream.#samau #self aware m:pn au #i ❤️ anons #ask #I approve of the babygirlification of Ghost

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lannasroleplaymemes · 3 years

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DOWN BAD DUDES Sentence Starter

All taken from this Twitter! Adjust wording as necessary. These are meant to be texts but they can be said as normal dialogue, too! warning some of these are brutal

txt: i’m sick of being friends txt: do you have the math homework txt: sorry that was a part of a drinking game, sorry txt: glaciers are the furthest thing from being hot txt: haha that’s okay! I was told you needed someone to go with but nvm :) txt: i don’t want them to think we’re a couple haha. txt: the only couple we are...is a couple of besties! :D txt: i lost my contacts who is this??? txt: you must be playing hard to get txt: i don’t normally go for guys like you so I’m going to have to pass txt: i think you accidentally left me on read haha txt: a free photoshoot? omg that’s great my partner and i definitely need pics together >w< txt: hey random but i have a calc final in an hour; its a word doc can u take it for me? txt: i’m gonna be busy txt: yeah i’m out i told you no one’s home txt: that’s great you could totally introduce to me to your hot friends! txt: yeah haha lol how tall are you again? txt: sorry i’m into men not boys don’t know if i can make this work today txt: i can’t tonight, i met some guy on tinder and now i got a dick appointment :P txt: oh my god are you sending this to multiple people txt: damn you forgot my birthday haha txt: wow nice subject change txt: i’m sorry i will heel bark bark woof woof txt: please talk to me instead of your boyfriend :) txt: omg im so sorry i took a nap at 5pm and ended up sleeping 14 HOURS OMG txt: that was on purpose huh txt: well at least ur dog’s cute txt: wait we’re close??? lol txt: bro i only ft u to distract myself from texting my ex txt: do you think you can do me a huge favor? could you write an essay for me? if not I completely undefrstand txt: can you give me a ride after? i need to get dropped off at this tinder guy’s place txt: omg that’s so cute! u could be my little brother! i wanna push you around in a stroller txt: also you’re not really my type sorry i just felt bad txt: i would just rather be alone than settling for the bare minimum txt: nooo you gotta help me find hot guys to talk to so they can take me to dinner :P txt: omg that’s what i should send to my crush! thanks so much xoxo txt: so i’m 10 drinks deep rn and i thought maybe alcohol would make u look cuter but it didn’t txt: why did you even have to send that txt: cool what’s your username and password txt: no i mean can u watch my dogs while i go on this date i might not be back tonight txt: i could be your baby >u> txt: you could be my baby brother <3! txt: no like i need recommendations for me and my bf and u said you were the best at recommendations :) txt: did u just screenshot our conversation....?

#rp meme #type: sentence #rel: enemy #rel: couple #emo: flirt

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infinite-inferno · 4 years

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Who Cares?

Fandom: Jacksepticeye

Characters: Chase Brody, Doctor Henrik von Schneeplestein, Marvin the Magnificent, Jackieboy Man, Jameson Jackson, Antisepticeye

Content warning: a lot of mentions of depression, addiction, alcoholism, suicide mentions, suicidal thoughts

If I wasn’t on mobile I’d use the zalgo text for anti so instead it’s bolded

[[MORE]]

As soon as Chase closed the door to his bedroom he flopped onto the bed, his smiling and laughing expression he wore seconds ago with his family immediately replaced by a somber one. He took long, deep breaths, having a staring contest with the ceiling (it of course won). After... well he couldn’t tell how long he laid like that - time seemed to slow and drag on forever but also go way too fast - he spoke so softly to himself that he barely heard himself speak. “Am I really depressed? Or is it just that I’m reminding myself that I’m supposed to be sad? I was just out there with everyone for hours and wasn’t sad at all. Am I just faking it?” A lone tear escaped from his eye and he didn’t bother to wipe it away.

He heard his phone vibrate, but didn’t bother to check it. The only person that would be calling him is his therapist’s office, attempting to confirm a meeting he already planned on skipping. He went to one to humor Jackie, and of course he had to schedule another visit, but the whole time he knew that he wasn’t going back. He would just be wasting his therapists time, and taking up space for people who really needed therapy.

His room wasn’t far from the room where all the other egos were still gathered - he told the others that he was going to his room to plan the next bro average video (which he really should be doing anyway) - and he could faintly hear some conversations. From what he could piece together, they started playing Cards Against Humanity and somehow Jameson was winning, even though he didn’t understand most of the cards. He could tell that they were having a lot of fun - a lot of fun without him.

“Would anyone even care if I-“ he spoke, again, barely audible (he wondered if he even vocalized the words, or if they halted in his head). He had to stop himself short, not daring to finish the thought. “Chase you idiot, you already tried to do it and you know what outcomes you would get. Doc would blame himself if he couldn’t save you, Marvin would lock himself away in his room and refuse to come out, Jackie would take out all his emotions on fighting villains that were unbeatable, at least in his headspace, and Jamie would...” he trailed off, biting his lip. “That’s right... he wasn’t even here when I did it...” Chase blinked and violently shook his head. “PMA Chase... PMA... PMA... PM- ya know they can shove that up their arse. I need a fucking drink is what I need not some positivity bullshit,” he grumbled, going back to further examine his closet. There had to be something...

Huffing, he picked up a pair of shoes, put his hat back on his head, and wiped any evidence of tears off his face before walking out of his room. He took a deep breath right before he got to the room where all the egos were gathered - he was right about his guesses as to their activity - and strode to the door. Jackie looked up from the game as Chase walked past to get his coat. “Hey Chase, what’s up? Where’re ya going?” He sensed something off about him (but it could’ve just been paranoia) and needed to make sure nothing happened to any of his brothers.

Chase blinked. He didn’t expect any of them to notice and now all of them were staring at him and- ‘deep breaths’ he thought to himself. “I’m just... going for a walk. I’m stuck on trying to find a new idea and... need to clear my head.”

If Jackie still had his doubts, he kept them to himself. “You have your phone on you right?”

Chase held up his phone as evidence, giving a “yup” in response. With that, he walked out the front door. “Of fucking course it’s raining,” he muttered, heading towards one of the bars in town. He knew better than to try any of the ones close to the house, as they knew him and wouldn’t contribute to his addiction. Finally, he ended up at one that he didn’t even know existed, and figured it was worth a shot. He walked up to the bar and sat on the stool, surveying his options, pupils dilating by simply looking at the bottles. He told the bartender to “keep em coming until I’m so plastered I’m falling off the chair.”

The bartender eyed him, as it was 4:30 pm on a Tuesday, but didn’t question it, besides offering a “rough day?”

Chase nodded to that, “I guess you could call it that.”

The bartender handed him his drink. “If you want to just drink your cares away, go ahead. But if you want an ear then I’ll be here.”

Chase took a long swig, then registered what the bartender was saying, growling slightly. “I don’t need fucking therapy.” He finished his drink and felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Baby Bean: “Hello Chase, it’s Jameson. Please do let us know when you will be returning. Marvin wants to know when he should begin making dinner, as he does not want your food to get cold, although given his history, you might be better off eating while you are out! 😆 I also should tell you that, while I do not know for certain, I think that some of the others are fearing that you are out getting bent, but if you say you’re just going for a walk, then I believe you! ☺️💚 Have a swell rest of your stroll!”

Chase sighed, grabbing the phone with his other hand. ‘What do I even say to this?’

“uh idk when i’ll be back. tell marv not to worry about me and not to burn the place down. also ty jj it means a lot that u trust me like that. i just wish the others would too” he deleted the last sentence, not wanting his brothers to feel guilty over not trusting him, especially when they had every right to be doubtful - considering he was actually at a bar. It also hurt to see that Jameson trusted him, because that meant he was betraying his trust, and he drank another glass at the thought.

About 20 minutes later, he felt his phone vibrate again. Judging by how it was many texts all at once, he assumed it was Marvin before he even pulled out his phone.

Magic Man: “Hey”

Magic Man: “I’m making dinner rn”

Magic Man: “It’s mac and cheese and whatever frozen chicken we have”

Magic Man: “Jamie said u were taking a longer walk but like it’s raining out and I don’t want u to get sick”

Magic Man: “Plz respond Chase”

Magic Man: “U there?”

“yo chill marv”

“i stepped inside a store to get out of the rain”

Magic Man: “Do u want one of us to pick u up??”

Magic Man: “If u lmk wya I can teleport to u”

Magic Man: “Or I’m sure Hen or Jackie would drive to get u if u just wanted to drive back”

Magic Man: “Ik how u feel abt teleporting”

Chase bit his lip before downing another glass. He forgot exactly what he was drinking, but it was alcohol and that’s all he cared about. He didn’t want to tell them that he was at a bar, not even thinking about how anyone could see or smell that he was drunk from a block away. He got another drink and almost forgot to respond before another message came through.

Magic Man: “Chase?”

Magic Man: “Plz just tell me where u r so we can pick u up”

“what so u can make fun of me??? nope i’ll b home later. i’m gonna stay here a bit longer then WALK home”

Chase put his phone away, not wanting to see Marvin’s response and just wanting to see more alcohol in his hands.

It was probably about an hour later when the bartender finally cut him off. He said that he was told to stop him when he looked like he was going to fall out of the chair and so the bartender wasn’t going to let him have any more. Plus his boss would be pissed if he let Chase leave any more intoxicated than he already was.

Chase stormed out of the bar and back into the rain before realizing he had no idea where we was. He looked around and tried to find something familiar but came up with absolutely nothing. He started walking in one direction, but it felt wrong, so he started in the opposite direction, which also felt wrong. So, he did what anyone else in his situation would do - he cried in the rain on the sidewalk of a basically empty street. After he felt he cried all he could, he looked at his notifications.

Baby Bean: 2 unread messages

Ze Best Doctah: 1 unread message

Magic Man: 13 unread messages, 2 missed calls

Spider-Man 2.0: 7 unread messages, 5 missed calls

Turtle: 1 unread message

“Shit.” Chase mumbled, scanning through the messages.

Baby Bean: “Hello Chase, Jameson again! 😊 You haven’t responded to anyone and we are all very worried about you. I’m hoping that your cellular device simply ran out of charge, but Jackie is informing me that when he tries to call you it would not ring as long as it is if your device has run out of battery.”

Baby Bean: “Chase, it’s Jameson. Where are you? I am getting increasingly worried for your safety, as is everyone else. Please respond to one of us.”

Ze Best Doctah: “Chase are you alright? You are scaring all of us. Do you need help? Or a ride? Marvin said you would not tell him where you were. I am praying you are not at a bar but right now I don’t know what to think. I trusted you would be smart and safe but now I’m not sure if you were either. Please call one of us when you see this.”

Magic Man: “Chase y do u think I would make fun of u?”

Magic Man: “R u ok?”

Magic Man: “R u mad at me?”

Magic Man: “Chase plz answer someone”

Magic Man: “If I said smth I’m sry”

Magic Man: “Just plz come home”

Magic Man: “Chase?”

Magic Man: “Ur dinner is getting cold WHERE ARE YOU”

Magic Man: “If u put on dnd I’ll b pissed”

Missed call from Magic Man

Magic Man: “Chase I stg if ur at a bar rn imma fucking deck u”

Magic Man: “No actually I’ll let Jackie do that”

Missed call from Magic Man

Magic Man: “Pick up ur damn phone Brody!!”

Magic Man: “Where tf r u????!!!!”

Spider-Man 2.0: “where did you go chase???????”

Spider-Man 2.0: “I thought you were just going on a walk”

Spider-Man 2.0: “THIS IS A VERY LONG WALK ITS BEEN HOURS”

Missed call from Spider-Man 2.0

Spider-Man 2.0: “if I have to save your ass from something or someone”

2 missed calls from Spider-Man 2.0

Spider-Man 2.0: “this isn’t funny chase”

Spider-Man 2.0: “I’m really fucking worried about you

2 missed calls from Spider-Man 2.0

Spider-Man 2.0: “CHASE I SWEAR IF YOU DONT PICK UP YOUR PHONE IM COMING TO LOOK FOR YOU”

Turtle: “Brody get your ass home RIGHT NOW!”

Chase weighed his options between who seemed the least pissed at him. Marvin and Jackieboy were obviously out. He didn’t particularly want to call Anti either. That left Henrik and Jameson. He went to the contact and pressed the call button. It barely rang before it was picked up.

“CHASE!! VERE ZEE FUCK HAFFE VOU BEEN??” Henrik shouted, his accent the thickest Chase has ever heard it, barely understandable in his drunken haze

“I’m sorry Hen” he slurred

“Chase vere are vou? Are vou fucking betrunken?!”

“Hen, Hen what? I-I don’t know what... what you’re saying.”

“HES ASKING IF YOU’RE DRUNK ASSHOLE!” Jackie shouted. “You’re on speakerphone you dick!”

Chase couldn’t see it but Jameson was trying to tell Jackie to calm down.

“OH FUCK NO THIS IS AS CALM AS I’LL BE JAMIE!”

Chase sat down on the sidewalk, leaning against a building. “I’m not fucking drunk,” he slurred

“Tell that to your voice.” Marvin piped up.

“Fiiiiiiiineeeeee mayyybeee I had a drink or few. Happy?”

“How many is ein few?”

Chase snorted and started laughing like that was just the funniest thing ever. “Fuck if I know, I wasn’t counting.”

“Chase where are you?” The static behind the phone let him know it was Anti and he whimpered.

“You’ll be mad at me...”

“WE’RE ALREADY MAD AT YOU DIPSHIT!” Jackie yelled. Henrik left the phone on the table while he grabbed his shoes and a jacket, figuring that because Chase called him, he should be the one to get him.

Chase suddenly got quiet. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Marvin furrowed his eyebrows.

“I mean I’m lost... that’s why I called... I was at a bar, then tried to walk home and got lost.”

There was silence for a little while. Marvin suddenly stepped towards an open area of floor and started mumbling a spell. “He’s on the corner of Center Street and Behmer Drive. A block down from a bar.” Henrik nodded, grabbing his phone and getting into the car.

“Chase stay on ze phone ja?”

“Okayyyy.” Chase yawned. “Hen I’m tired.”

“Vell I vill not carry vou in so vou need to stay avake”

“But I’m sleepyyyyyyy” Henrik sighed, driving as fast as he could without getting arrested until he saw a familiar figure all the while trying to keep said person awake. He pulled over and got out of the car. Chase stood up, but he stood up too quickly and vomited, luckily for him none of it got on Henrik. As soon as he was done, he was ushered into the car.

“I von’t um... vhat is that expression? Chew vou out now, vou vill certainly get enough shit vrom Jackieboy and Marvin.”

“Thank you,” Chase mumbled, the heat of the car feeling nice on his cold wet body.

“Und vour hangover und sickness vill be more zan enough punishment tomorrow.”

“I’m real sorry Hen.”

“Zat is vhat vou zaid last time. Und vou did it again. Vou must earn mein trust back Chase. Jamie’s too. Und vou vill be lucky if ze ozers trust vou again soon.” All of a sudden, Chase broke into sobs. He thought he didn’t have anymore tears left in him, but apparently he was wrong.

“Please don’t make me see them Hen... I’m just so weak and pathetic and you all are important. All I have is... is... I’m just useless. What have I ever been besides a nuisance? With all my whining about Stacy, over reacting to a couple sad days and calling it depression, my-my bad habits and self destructive tendencies... I’m surprised you all still keep me around,” Chase’s whole body shook with his sobs.

There was a lot to unpack there and Henrik had no clue where to start. He pulled into the driveway and put the car in park, turning to face Chase. “Chase... how long have vou been feeling like zis?”

He just shrugged. “I dunno... a while now, maybe a year or so?”

“Vhy didn’t vou say anyzing?”

“I was scared you would realize your mistake and kick me out.” He mumbled. It was quiet, but Henrik heard it loud and clear.

“Ve vould never dream of it Chase. Vou are far from useless-“

“Oh yeah? Name one thing that I’ve done that actually helped!”

Henrik went silent as his brain tried to think of a good example that wasn’t easily written off because he knew that anything he said would be torn to bits anyway.

“Thought so.” Chase shook his head. “I actually thought you were gonna say something too. Guess I can add moron to the list.”

“Chase stop-“

“Oh look, I’m being a bother yet again. Shocking.” He got out of the car, slamming the door, puked in the grass, then went inside, ready to be reminded yet again of how weak and pathetic he was.

The second he opened the door was the second the yelling began. He didn’t even bother protesting because they were all right. He screwed up, could’ve died, worried them all.

“Do you have ANY idea how scared we were?! I thought I was going to get a call from a hospital that you were hurt or DEAD! We all were so worried-“

“I DIDN’T ASK YOU TO CARE!” Chase snapped.

“WELL SCREW YOU TOO! I’m your brother!” Jackie fired right back.

‘Ok I think that’s enough’ Jameson tried to intervene, but of course, nobody was paying attention to him. Well, nobody except one person who did happen to notice. Anti stepped in between the two.

“That is enough.” His voice caused everyone to stop yelling, Jameson signing a small thank you towards him. “It seems like Chase has already berated himself over and over, haven’t you? I’m not inside your head, chill out, but you’re fucking screaming it with your body language. You seem to forget that you all can’t hide anything from me. And, I can assure you Chase, you aren’t faking anything, and we all would care.

“Don’t you see? Look around you Brody! Jackieboy is yelling at you because he was scared, and cares so damn much about you. Marvin had so much anxious energy that while he was pacing he started to fucking glow. Yes Marvin, I saw that. Jameson wasn’t signing anything, he just retreated into his mind again, like he always does when he’s worried. Henrik was prepping his work station just in case you came home half dead and was shaking so much he dropped half his equipment. And I-” Anti took a deep breath “I was glitching so much I disappeared for a little bit, just static filling my place. I’m still glitching a lot, and it is taking all of my energy to stay present enough to knock some sense into your drunken mind! We care about you because we all have no idea what we would do without you here!” He balled his hands into fists, and stared down Chase, watching him deflate even more than he already was. He shook his head, retreating to his room where he resumed his excessive glitching.

Jameson was the first one to recover. ‘Chase? What did Anti mean about “you aren’t faking anything, and we all would care”?’ When he was met with a blank stare, he sighed and looked to one of the others to translate. Marvin was the one to interpret for Chase.

“I... I had it in my head that... that I was just faking my depression... that I was just sad a bit. And that... that nobody would care if I... if I... tried again.” Everyone in the room but Jameson understood, and Jameson wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to know. His mind supplied an answer and he didn’t like it. Jackie was the one to walk over to Chase and engulf him in a hug. The rest soon followed, and Chase began to cry again into Jackie’s shoulder. After a while they one by one let go, and Chase looked between them all before going to his room and passing out on his bed.

#who cares #kaiden writes #my fanfic #jacksepticeye #chase brody #henrik von schneeplestein #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #antisepticeye #angst #depression #alcoholism #addiction #suicide mention #suicidal thoughts #yall im not dead

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joonciaga · 5 years

Text

a/n : ↱ if ur just seeing this, hi! this is a social media au, this part just doesn’t have a setting online♡.

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐎 ↱ namjoon’s is a famous producer and rapper signed to etc ent. recently, yn signed and is soon gonna debut under etc ent. namjoon is known for being very hardcore and a little rude sometimes. when yn gets put together with namjoon to work on her album they are at each others necks til someone breaks.

mono | part 17 | au masterlist

You entered Namjoon’s apartment with a gift in one hand, and the other your laptop case, Mia right by your side, soon disappearing somewhere. Right away your eyes meet Namjoon’s and the loud bass music fills your ears. “Hey! Happy Birthday, again.” The awkwardness visible in the tension, due to the last thing that happened when you too were in each others houses.

“Thanks, again.” He flashes his dimples. You hand him his gift and he smiles even more. “Thanks,... I’ll put it somewhere special… By the way, if you wanna start studying now, my rooms on the last door in the hallway.” He gestures towards the hallway.

You nod as a thanks. “I think I’ll be social for now, thanks though.” You both walk away out into the crowd. You right away spot Mia talking to Yoongi and Hoseok by the island in the kitchen.

“Woah, girly I thought you were supposed to be studying.” Hoseok says.

“What? I can’t say Happy Birthday and be social for a bit?” You sassily say.

“Okay, Okay, Calm down…” He responds, putting his hands up in defense.

“Mhm… “ You roll your eyes, shifting your weight to your right leg.

“Okay, anyways… You need a drink… Let’s go.” Yoongi grabs your arm and leads you to the bar.

“Nooo, I don’t im 20, it’s not even legal for me to--”

“You know, damn well, you drink, you’re a fucking college student.” He laughs. You laugh along with him.

“I need to do work, Yoongi.”

“Yeah, you also need to stop focusing on school, you have a career now.” You let him do whatever he wants and just give in to his orders. He pours you tequila, which you cannot handle, over ice. “Drink it, fast.” He hands you a lime and you already know what to do.

“That's... “ You feel a little tipsy already. “That.. strong, and that’s enough.” You get out of his grip and head to Namjoon’s room, knocking before going in to finish your essay.

“Come in!” You hear Joon’s voice answer.

Gripping your laptop case, and turning the knob you spot Namjoon’s face, seeing him getting his phone from off the charger. “Are you busy, I don’t wanna bother you.” You say to him, getting ready to leave.

“Uh no, I was just getting my phone don’t worry about me.”

“Oh, Okay.” You say he exits the room and slightly close to door. The tension between you too still kind of bothers you. Not sure where to sit at, you kind of look around, exploring with your eyes only. You automatically can see that Namjoon is a plant and plushie lover. There's bright green plant, hanging from the ceiling, and a ryan plushie on one of the shelves. You spot his desk, which you ever saw until and decided to finally take a seat. You put your laptop on the desk and begin working.

On the other hand, it’s only 7 and people are already getting drunk, you can hear Hoseok's loud laugh from Namjoon’s room. You laugh at the thought of him.

---

By now, it’s 11:45 and you’re stressed out by now. You moved to Namjoon’s bed to be more comfortable, hoping he won't mind. You’ve deleted your first body paragraph over ten times. And when you decide to keep it how it was from the beginning, Google Docs decides to crash and don’t work. Yoongi was right, you need to stop worrying about school and just stop going in general.

For the first time in hours, you get up on your feet and decide to social to gain some energy. But at the same time as you open the door and walk out of the room your body collides with Namjoon, you’re guessing.

“I’m sorry, are you o-

“D-do you need help? You look really tired.” He read right through you.

“Yeah, honestly,” You sigh

“Don’t worry I majored not only in Music, but in Literature, what’s the issue.” He walks over to his desk to see your laptop isn't there, but onto his bed.

“Oh I.. um.. Layed there for a while because I was uncomfortable… I hope that wasn't a problem.” You shyly say, playing with your fingernails.

“Oh, no, I have no problem with it, as long as your fine.” He crashes down onto the bed next to your laptop and pats the spot next to him. “Come on,” Since when have you guys gotten this close? You follow his orders and move your hand along the trackpad to get your laptop out of sleep mode. “What’s the issue?”

“Well…” You explain to him what your report is about, which is basically why Biomolecules are important. Your literature professor and Biology professor decided to do two grades in one, which you thought was really easy until you got around to doing it.

Namjoon finishes explaining the structure of the body paragraph you should go for and you finally understand what you were missing. You gasp loudly and laugh at your rookie mistake. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” Namjoon smiles. “Go ahead and finish, I’m watching.” That made you shift a little, maybe too much.

“Uh, okay…” By the time you’re finished typing the body, which was ten sentences, you see Namjoon sound asleep. “That was fast, you say to yourself.” You try and get up to go out and socially before hitting submit on your assignment, but Namjoon’s arm pull you back down, which surprised you a ton.

“Y/n… Can we talk?” His voice was low and raspy. He sits straight up and looks at you, waiting for a response.

“Um.. about?” You ask, sitting down too.

“You know… “ He sits a little closer to you. "Us?"

"Us?" You repeat.

"Yeah, I mean… you still haven't given me an answer and it kinda sucks waiting weeks, knowing you have an interest in me.. and it's mutual yet, you arent mine." His voice got lighter, and he sounded unsure of himself.

You awed and blushed at his smooth yet shy words. "Namjoon… honestly, I was too afraid to tell you how I felt… you're my first boy-"

"Love?" He completed your sentence. "Oh…" He then says, noticing you were about to say boyfriend. You were about to say something but he just shushes you. "No need to talk, I understand, Yn." He engulfed you into a hug. Proud that he understood you, you smiled and deepen the hug. Making you to jump, Namjoon’s phone alarm goes off and it says 12:00AM. “It’s time to open gifts now, wanna come with?” He says.

You nod and you both stand up onto your feet. He holds his hands out and you both link hands and walk down the hallway until you get to the dining room, where everyone is.

“There he is, I thought you ran away.” Jungkook says towards Namjoon, but his eyes are shifted towards you, by Namjoon’s side.

“I could’ve but… I had to solve some issues.” He smiles

“Okay, first gift is from….” Jungkook flips the box around to look for the tag, noticing it's your box, you shift your weight to your left leg. “Yn!” He says. “Open it, hyung.” He hands to gift to him and begins to unwrap it slowly.

Namjoon begins to open the gift and smile creepys upon his face as he sees what it is.

“What is it?” Hoseok says, as if he doesn't know because he helped you pick it.

Namjoon begins to laugh as he says, “It’s another Ryan.” Along with everyone. “But it’s mine…” His eyes shifts towards you.

#bts #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts social media au #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts fake texts

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wxldchxld · 5 years

Text

@ashayara girl I cannot keep up with all ur urls lol

so this was supposed to be the final part of this, and it was supposed to all come to a clear and concise finish.... but i don’t think it will. on the bright side i’m 99 percent certain you’re the only one reading this and i know you won’t hold it against me.

but if, by any chance, anyone needs an explanation, I was just having a fucker of a time writing Asha and Euron’s fight, because as this entire piece makes it clear: I really suck at fight scenes. But, I mean, I’m proud I stuck this whole thing out. All parts put together made 25 pages in a doc and I feel like for the most part I followed through. Maybe @ashayara will write it, maybe we’ll all just imagine Asha stabbing her uncle 50 million times, or maybe I’ll finish this one day, but for right now I needed to put it down. Sorry Elsie. Still have mad love for you girl.

The sea was bizarrely silent beneath the prow of her ship. One ill omen among hundreds it seemed. If not for her oarsmen she doubted the tide would have carried them at all. The wind was still and suffocating, sticking to her lungs and dragging along her throat and chest as she tried to breathe normally. Everything felt wrong. She could taste bile behind her lips, and for a moment she gripped the railing of her deck thinking she might lose what little food she’d managed to eat, but it stayed. She forced a breath and straightened her shoulders once more.

The Black Wind had been driven tirelessly forward since Victarion had told her of his plan earlier that morning, and it was late into the evening now. The light of the moon was cold and unforgiving above her, unimpeded by the clouds, and the only sound for miles was that of oars smacking against the surf. Beyond the moon a million stars danced in the black sky. How could such a picturesque evening feel so sinister?

“You worry for her.” Qarl said quietly. He sounded surprised, and she could detect the slightest edge of disapproval in his tone. Just what he was currently disapproving of she wasn’t sure; it felt like she’d done everything wrong lately.

A huff of silent laughter rolled past her lips and shook her shoulders. With a half grin and a sideways glance she asked, “Are you jealous?”

It was cruel. She knew that it was the second she’d said it. Her words were a barb that sliced like a blade into a still open wound. They’d scarcely spoken since her wedding, and when they had spoken it certainly hadn’t been about her wife. It hadn’t been said, but neither of them knew how to reconcile the relationship they’d had before it’d happened, or even if they should try. She’d brought that painful reality out from the shadows and into the light with one careless sentence.

“How do you think the witches will respond when they help win me a crown paid for with the blood of their own?” In truth she wasn’t sure what her wife was to the witches. She held some station, by birthright as well as something to do with their religion, but that was the extent of her own knowledge on the subject. What she did understand, quite clearly, was that their marriage had been arranged to symbolize a promise to the witches. Beck was a breathing symbol of their alliance, and if Asha neglected or failed her wife, she failed them all. The witch king had given her this warning himself… and he did not seem to her to be the forgiving type. Asha shook her head. “If we manage to defeat Euron and she dies, we’ll be lucky if the witches with us now don’t all turn on us. Their king wouldn’t forgive that.”

Qarl was quiet, sullenly watching the waves. She couldn’t tell if he was mulling over what she’d said or covering up some unsightly emotion, or not paying attention at all.

“But you worry over her.” He said finally. This time she could her anger straining his voice.

“...I do.” She said after a long, tense moment had passed. Though she didn’t let herself dwell on that thought. The more she did the sicker she got. It was preferable to focus on the threats of the witches rather than the crushing guilt and bizarre sense of sadness that overwhelmed her when she thought about what Euron might do to her wife. Beck was vibrant and joyful and warm and---soft. She’d stand no chance against ironmen. If that light was snuffed out beneath her uncle’s boot, she’d never put it out of her mind. At least she doubted she would live long enough to let that guilt consume her.

“What the hell is that?” Asha opened her eyes and turned back to Qarl, but her gaze didn’t linger on him long. Behind him, against the midnight blue sky, a luminous orange cloud of mist was resting over the waters. At first she thought it was smoke, and that deep within the heart of a smog her ships were burning, but as they drew closer she could see it wasn’t smoke at all.

“Go and get Cuyler.” She demanded, sending Qarl a cutting look. Cuyler was the only witch left on her ship. There was little need for strategy and war council now. They hadn’t the time. Their only hope was to hit Euron hard and fast with everything they had and pray to the Drowned God for favor. Or---whatever witches prayed to.

Qarl all but ran across the ship, and Asha’s gaze drifted from him to her sailors, who had all stopped to gape open-mouthed at the enormous cloud beyond them. Wordlessly they began to brace the sails and tie down anything loose for fear they were headed straight into the eye of a storm. Was it terror or excitement she saw in their eyes? Perhaps both. Should they die here in battle not a one would be turned away from the halls of the Drowned God.

Unless he forsakes us all. She thought. The Damphair had preached many a sermon about not spilling Ironborn blood. While most of the blood would likely be spilled by her allies, they did so in her name, and she’d be a fool to let herself think she’d get through the night without having to strike down any of her own.

All for a crown… She shook her head as she turned back to the problem at hand. More than just a crown now. My birthright has driven me here, perhaps, but now it has become so much more.

This war was its own beast now, with its own life. When her uncle had sounded the dragon horn that day, he’s blown life into its lungs. Tonight she would slay it and him in one fell swoop, and in doing so it would save her people from ruin. Ruin that could only come from serving under a man who cared only for his own whims.

“The ships!” Asha startled a bit, having been so deeply lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t heard anyone approach. Culyer was standing behind her, fast approaching the railing of the ship. His thick, scarred hands gripped at the sodden wood, and he smiled for the first time since she’d met him.

“Ships? I don’t see any damn ships. Only that fog.” She jerked her head in the direction of the mist, but the witch only stared ahead.

“What fog, good queen?” He asked, not bothering to turn to face her. Though he did have the decency to drop the smile from his face given her tone.

“What fog?” She replied, her words hard and mocking, then she stopped and considered him. “What do you see?”

“Not but moonlight.”

Qarl cut in with a small, humorless laugh. “No giant cloud of orange mist?”

Cuyler, who Asha was certain at this point didn’t even remotely understand the concept of a joke at all, only looked at him as if he were the greatest idiot to ever sail the seas. “I see… Stop your ships. Drop anchor.”

“Drop the anchor?” She was starting to feel like a parrot she was repeating so much. Only that time it hadn’t been on purpose. She was genuinely shocked that he thought it’d do them any good to stop when the enemy was in sight---well in his sight at least.

“If you can see a mist where I can not the other witches must have surrounded your uncle’s boats in this mist to protect themselves.”

“Do you think all of your people can see through it?”

“Aye, and likely your uncle’s wizard as well.” The witch peered back out into the distance, and she watched as the pupil of his eye grew to twice the size, and his eyes, as well as his tattoos took on a faint glow. “Most of his ships are still far from our own; all but one.”

He didn’t need to tell her which one it was.

“If the witches who spread the fog can keep up the spell, we can take but one or two ships onward and cut down this Crow’s Eye. After our retreat we can drown all that remain.”

Asha took a brief moment to think. The swirling mist seemed to be reaching out to them now, when they’d felt miles away only a few moments ago. It was barely half a league from them now.

“Send someone to Victarion’s ship to help him navigate the fog. Have the rest of the fleet drop anchor. Bring the witch leaders here to me.”

Cuyler’s grin grew to something truly enormous and sharp and altogether horrific, “To battle then!”

Her eyes lost focus of him for a moment, even though she tried her damnedest to watch him closely. There was a blur, either in her eye or in the very space where he stood, his body contorted, colors smeared across reality as if drawn by a thick brush of paint, and then flapping two mammoth wings in the air directly before her, an eagle appeared where Cuyler had stood. The dark golden brown of its feathers muddled with creamy ivory around its head, and its tail was as white as the sea foam. He was larger than her, larger than Qarl, with claws that could have pierced a suit of iron with but a twitch. The razor sharp beak rose to the sky, and he screamed out over the waters so loud that the sound overwhelmed all her senses and carried as far as the sea was long. The shrill, grating note struck inside her like lightning, then with a single flap of his wings, he shot into the sky and soared out toward the awaiting ships.

Their short journey toward the mist passed in the blink of an eye, and when the very tip of the prow reached out to touch it, the entire ship lurched. Behind her she heard a chorus of shouts as men braced themselves while the Black Wind came to a screeching halt. The vessel pitched forward, its tip bending down to nearly kiss the waves, and then like an angry stallion it reared back up and threw its weight forward obstinately.

“Lift the oars! Pull them in!” She demanded, unable to release the rope clutched in her fingers lest she be pitched over the rail. The rough fiber clawed at her skin and chased away the normal chill of the sea to replace it with a raw, uncomfortable warmth. The bones of her fingers dug in harder, and she braced her boots against the deck as the residual motion rocked her ship like a child’s toy. When it was only just under control, she called the oarsmen to get back to work.

Asha took a steadying breath and then hurled herself toward the mast. Another rope found its way into her hand as she helped two other men grapple with the rebellious sails.

Eerily, it was not that the wind howled around them, nor that the waters below were wild, that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. There was a gut piercing, blood chilling silence to the world around them. She could scarcely see ten feet in front of her, and the mist seemed to suck sound from the air around them.

“Láta!” Came the cry of Ragna, but it was small and far away. Another voice echoed the word, and again and again. Láta. Láta. Until she could see the mist in front of her part, rolling like massive waves wide enough to allow them passage. The air rushed back into her lungs, and beneath her the ship settled.

“They’ve resorted to blood magic.” The red-eyed woman said. “Death drives this spell.”

Somehow she’d appeared at the front of her ship without Asha noticing her at all, and the other witches were fast approaching too. Now their voices were whispers, but in their hands they each clasped long iron wands in white-knuckled grasps, repeating láta, láta, over and over, keeping the mist from touching the ship, pulling more away from the cloud foot by foot.

There were shadows of ships in the smog on either side of the boat. Euron’s fleet couldn’t hope to move forward as their own vessels fought them. She watched in horror and astonishment as they lurched and toiled desperately on the still sea. And then she saw it, illuminated by a long stretch of moonlight, with mist lifting off its red hull and black sails; the Silence stopped its frantic rocking as the curtain of smoke pulled away. The ship swayed side to side like a drunk, spinning laboriously until finally it settled on the sea once more. They were closer now, nearly to the ship, and the soft light from the curling mist was just enough to see by. Through the long, narrow eye of her spyglass she could see that it was empty. Completely and utterly abandoned. Not even a shadow lingered on the deck.

Beyond Euron’s prized vessel, she watched the cloud forcibly tear in two around the floating fortress that was one of her treasure ships. It existed in a large bubble, sitting quietly beneath the starry sky, unplagued by the spell that had beset her uncle’s fleet.

“Is that his?” Harper demanded from her side. Asha took the spyglass away from her eye and gave a grim nod, but the Fox was not looking at her. Her rage was thinly veiled, and the effort that it took to contain it turned her soft face to stone. She was not panting, not audibly, but her chest heaved subtly. Was it fear? Excitement? Stress from fighting through the spell?

“Aye. That’s it.” Was Asha’s only reply.

The Fox needed nothing else. Her dark, predatory eyes shifted to the sky where the monstrous eagles circled above his masts, the tips of their wings dipping in and out of the mist like the fins on a shark.

“Let. It. Burn!”

The night sky blazed to life as the wings of the eagles burst into flames as gold as the autumn sunset. Speckles of blinding white glittered throughout the metallic flames; the frayed, toiling edges tore to reveal the ebony sky behind them, only to sew themselves together once more a heartbeat later; spears of crimson bled out against the golden field, staining everything it touched in shades of blood-spattered pink and burnt orange as they shot through the fire. The fire did not burn Euron’s ship so much as it consumed it. Like a pack of wild dogs rabidly tears apart and scarfs down its prey, the flames stripped the sails, broke open the masts, splintering them in all directions, and tore the planks apart board by board until there was nothing but embers and ash laying on the black water. She had never witnessed wildfire with her own eyes, but she imagined it looked just as unnatural as this. With a final roar and a sky shaking boom, the Silence died. What little remained sank down to the depths below, and for a time even the water glowed, as the sheer savage fury of the witches kept the flames alive even against the laws of the ocean itself.

The Black Wind glided effortlessly over where her uncle’s ship had been, and she tasted blood in her mouth.

Drawn by the violent display she saw men appear on the deck of the witches' ship only just out of her reach. Euron's men drew bows and took aiming, first at her ship, and then, upon seeing the flaming beasts in the sky, up to the air. Once more the eagles were descending, their beating wings dancing with fire. They were met the hail storm of arrows as they dove and three of them dropped with pained screeches into the sea below. Another spiraled and rolled along the deck of the ship, met with a spear before it could try and get to its feet. But those that remained swooped down on Euron's men. They took grown men in their grasp, setting their talons straight into their chests effortlessly.

Her axe was wetted as soon as her feet hit the deck. Another wave of men emerged onto the lower deck and made their charge. Her arm swung, digging her blade into a short man’s shoulder. He gasped and drew back to strike her, but she slipped out of the way and brought her axe down on the back of his neck as he stumbled. A sharp pain erupted at the base of her spine, and she heard her back pop. She hit the railing of the deck and turned to face her assailant, gasping for the air that had been ripped from her. A sword shot out from his chest and the man choked and spasmed; blood sputtered out of his lips, hot and wet, and splattered along her cheek. The sword withdrew as the man fell, and Qarl smiled sadistically as the blood only smeared on her pale flesh when she went to wipe it away.

“Duck you bumbling fool!” She demanded, her hand not hesitating as she hurled a throwing axe toward Qarl. He was quick enough to step out of the way, but so was the man behind him. Her axe was blown aside by his shield, but the moment’s distraction was enough that Qarl could land a blow to his exposed leg. The man had no sooner hit the deck than her boot crashed against his face with a satisfying crack. Around her the flood of men pouring onto the ship were swiftly driving back Euron’s small force. But she knew he wasn’t fool enough to waste all of his resources here on the lower deck. This was merely a distraction while he readied himself.

“Where are the witches?” She had to holler over the chaos around her. Now Victarion’s ship was docking, and the bloodthirsty shouts of battle hungry men drowned out the sounds of everything else. Asha kicked the man again, accidentally catching him at the base of his throat. He gagged and coughed, slobbering piteously on the sea-soaked wood, and her patience dissolved before he could recover. She wrenched the axe from his shaking hand and hefted it down into the back of his skull.

“Where are my witches?!” She roared above the crowd. Those who had captives still yet breathing momentarily paused in their assault to parrot her question, but it was one of the eagles that answered.

“The wizard and the Crow’s Eye are on the main deck.” The words echoed not in the air, but in her thoughts. “But there are no witches. None alive at least.”

Asha shot a look to Qarl, but as far as she could tell by the wary expressions on the faces of every man on the boat, no one else had heard. She looked to the eagles as they circled in the sky above.

Was this some sort of grand farce? Was Euron baiting her? Now instead of blood it was bile on her tongue. Where was her wife? Why couldn’t one damn person tell her where her fucking wife was? She looked up at the ship’s sails again, thinking perhaps she’d seen wrong; perhaps this wasn’t the Fox Clan’s ship. But in the dim light of the mist and the moon, she could see the silhouette of the fox straining against the wind.

“Ragna and I take will take a force below deck!” The Seal King panted. For the first time he was devoid of his atrocious coat. He pointed with the spear in his hand to the shrouded doorway. “The lower decks are the hardest to breech. Those that could hide would have done it there.”

The Badger was practically unrecognizable under her sheen of shattered glass and blood that seemed to pulse and fog along her once-pale skin. Her black eyes gleamed malevolently as she shot a glance in her direction, and then she followed the Seal.

“Tell your eagles to hold back and stay out of range for now.” She said to the Fox. “We’ll need them to drive Euron’s men back from the entrance to the main deck.”

The witch nodded, and after a flurry of heated words, Asha reluctantly agreed to follow behind on their way to the main deck. This was her fight, she was the one who had everything at stake, and she more than anyone needed to see if her wife was among the corpses littering the ship’s floor, but even she conceded that the greatest risk fell on those who stepped over the threshold first. But she did not want for brave men ready to meet the Drowned God, either.

The halls inside the ship were so dark that if she’d have let go of the wall she’d have wandered off into the shadows and lost herself in a second. Not even the lone torch that one of her men carried could cast light enough to fill more than a small halo around him. Without her sight, she could only feel; she could only hear and smell. And she did her best not to focus on the smell, as that the stench of blood was so thick in the room that it clogged her nose with each breath. The waves were quiet this far below the surface, but the walls creaked and groaned steadily as the ocean pressed in against them. Apart from that, all she could hear were the careful footsteps and choppy breaths of her men, occasionally interrupted by the head of the line stumbling, swearing, and then calling out for the rest of them to step over the body in the way. Each corpse she crossed she stared at twice as long as she needed to, never stopping, but always needing to be absolutely sure that the lifeless face was not that of her wife. It didn’t do her any good in the dark, and as the minutes dragged on her dread and her anger only grew.

What few men Ragna and the Seal King had not disposed of were quickly felled by her front lines. They lost one by the time they reached the narrow staircase leading to the main deck, and that was she best she could have hoped for.

“He’s waiting for us.” Victarion said over his hulking shoulder. Even he preceded her, much to her annoyance, but he did stand a better chance against the initial assault in all his armor. He took up so much space his shoulders nearly scraped the sides of the hall as he walked, and in his ironclad boots his footsteps were about as subtle as a newly shod yearling on cobblestones. He was exhausting even when he was being helpful. They’d come to an agreement, yes, but she still couldn’t help but wish he wouldn’t make it back to the mainland. It’d save her a lot of headaches in the long run---and they’d never had much love for each other.

“He’s got the advantage. He’ll wait forever if we let him.” She said; her hand came to rest on the hook of her axe.

She felt a soft, slender figure slip past her and threw a questioning look over her shoulder to see Harper squeezing into the space in front of her as best she could.

“We’re going to ram the boat.” She whispered. Bracing herself against the wall in between Asha and her uncle. The proximity to the Fox was making Asha uncomfortable. So close to the battle Asha would have thought she’d seen fear or rage reflected in her eyes or at least a thread of tension in her voice, but her gaze was still cold and calculating, and when she spoke the words were steady. Asha didn’t feel right looking at something so pragmatic and emotionless, especially not when her rage and her worry were at war within her own chest.

Harper briefly glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to the queen once more. “With any luck it’ll knock some of his men off balance. Give the eagles a chance to come down without any arrows flying. The second you see the flames, charge. With any luck we’ll catch the bastards with their breeches ‘round their knees.”

She was unaccustomed to this much---planning in an open water battle, otherwise she might have objected to everyone else doing the planning for her. That was magic, she supposed. Even when there were no options in sight, it gave you some.

No sooner had she braced against the wall then she felt the ship pitch backward with such a force that even those who had prepared themselves could be heard stumbling behind her. Whatever had hit the boat, if it’d been anything at all, surely hadn’t been another ship. It’d come from beneath the vessel. Visions from her dreams flew through her head, flashes of great leviathans and krakens the size of a longship, but she did not have time to dwell on them. Ahead she heard the commotion of Euron’s men shouting in alarm, and then the piercing scream of eagles beneath the roar of a fire as light flooded the top of the staircase.

Asha took three breaths, trying to memorize and anticipate the residual rocking of the ship beneath her feet, and then she charge forward with the rest of them, up into the blinding white light of the deck, her axe clutched firmly in hand.

At first she could see only shadows, blurry and distorted amid the intense flames of the fire. Great, hulking shadows hovering in the air, and the mad, flailing silhouettes of men waving their swords indiscriminately. The fire began to dwindle and fade, unable to catch hold of the deck of the ship. To her left three men leaped onto the back of one of the great beasts, thrusting their swords into its hide and hanging onto them for dear life as the creature flapped and screamed. Ultimately it fell and the light faded even more. One by one the eagles were either forced to flee or were slain, but by the time Euron’s men made a decent recovery, a small force of her own was already charging, with more filing out of the hall at every moment.

“Guard the entrance!” She demanded, looking to Harper, who had somehow managed to split open the throats of three charging men by simply pointing her wand at them, and Victarion who was removing his war axe from the gut of a sputtering corpse. If Euron’s men managed to gain back the entrance to the lower deck, they’d have no reinforcements and be done for in minutes. Neither of them looked at her, but they stayed near the door as the rest of them made their charge.

An axe flew in her direction, and in one deft motion she took it up in her own hand and hefted it back at the man rushing her. It caught him in the eye and sent him spiralling past her onto the blade of one of her men. Qarl. He was still right at her back. Asha spared him only a glance before pushing further into the fray. She plunged her axe into the next man’s throat, and ripped it out only to swing it into the side of another. His sword hand raised and crashed against her chin, hard. She spat blood, the taste of it filling her mouth with copper and her chest with a boiling rage. A cry of fury was strangled from her chest as she swung her axe down on the back of his neck, almost cutting it clean from his shoulders. More blood sprayed, making her grip on her blade hot and wet, and in spite of herself she smiled.

As she jerked it free she straightened herself and wildly searched the deck for the Crow’s Eye. Her eyes frantically dragged across the blood red sea of people. She saw Victarion crash two men’s head together in a way that might have been comical if the skulls hadn’t split and their brains hadn’t bubbled out the side like a bit of spilled stew. Her gaze didn’t linger. She didn’t care. Qarl was splitting open a man’s gut, and still she looked on. A serpent the size of ten men was coiled around Euron’s wizard, forcing its mouth over his shoulders and swallowing him alive. Still she tore her eyes away until she found him, looming above the battle on the upper deck like a coward. He was watching her.

She blindly cut her way through the crowd, unaware if she was killing men or simply taking them to their knees. She couldn’t avoid every swing of their axes or thrusts of their swords, but she barely felt the sting of any blade that split her skin. Every prickle of pain only served to strengthen the bitter taste of fury and bloodlust on her tongue.

And then something felt wrong. Her back felt naked---exposed---and as she ripped her eyes away from her uncle, reality came back to her. Qarl. She couldn’t see him now. He wasn’t at her back, nor her side, nor even fighting on ahead to bait her. Every face she looked on was wrong. Each pair of eyes belonged to someone she cared nothing for.

Her wild eyes landed two figures, one slumped over the other, but shaking with thunderous laughter. Like that same laughter from her dream. Mad and wild, trembling in the air and drowning out all other sound. Like a red hot sword plunged into ice water, she felt her fury immediately harden and turn to piercing fear. She slammed the blade of her axe down between the figure’s shoulders, watching the flesh split and his body jerk. Still he laughed and laughed, and the cold terror felt like mania inside her now. She struck again and again, screaming raggedly to overwhelm the sound of his laughter. Even once he was dead and silent, she hit him three more times before ripping his body away.

Qarl.

She might have wretched. She might have fainted. What miraculous force kept her from doing either she didn’t know, but she could not stop herself from falling to her knees.

He stared back at her with wide, glassy eyes. Neither alive nor dead, caught in the agonizing limbo between the two. His hands were clutching his side uselessly. From the gaping wound she could see his entrails snaking out onto the deck of the ship. He began to cough, blood bubbling up from his lips, and she caught his head in her hands as her axe clattered to the deck.

“Qarl!” Her voice was far from gentle, far from loving, and she couldn’t force any softness upon it. Even in her grief there were only sharp edges and hard demands to offer this man that she loved… but he looked at her. By some merciful twist of fate, her words brought him back to her. Those dark eyes met hers. His mouth gaped open and then closed, and she could not tell if he meant to speak or if he was only desperate for breath. She kept his gaze, feeling tears welling in her own eyes, feeling a thousand apologies and confessions gather on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t afford to cry for him now. A trembling hand pressed against the nape of her neck, and he weakly pulled her forward. She met his lips in a desperate kiss, as if she might give him some of her own life, and she held him to her until the hand in her hair went limp and fell away. Against her lips she felt him smile, and she pulled away long enough to watch the last glint of life fade from his eyes.

Dead. He was dead. She had loved no one else. She had trusted no one else. Not as a woman, at least. She had loved her mother as a ghost, she had loved her lord father as wish, and she had loved her brothers as corpses, but Qarl she had loved as the man he was. He had been real and tangible… and Euron had taken him from her.

#drabbles #ashayara #also no i don't care that i randomly started capitalizing #in my author's note

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womenofcolor15 · 4 years

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Viewers Of Aaron Hernandez’s Disturbing Netflix Docu-Series Go Crazy + Former Lawyer SLAMS Doc For Speculation Of Aaron’s Sexuality, Ex-Fiancée Takes Social Media Break

Netflix’s docu-series about former NFL star Aaron Hernandez has folks going crazy on socials media after its release. Meanwhile, his defense attorney, Jose Baez, and Aaron’s ex-fiancée, Shayanna Jenkins, also react to the disturbing docu-series. Get it all inside…

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When Netflix released Aaron Hernandez's docu-series “Killer Inside: The Mind of Aaron Hernandez” last week, it sent shockwaves through social media.

The three-part documentary pieced together the former New England Patriots player's life and events that led up to him committing suicide in April 2017 after he was acquitted for a double murder. He was already serving a life sentence after he was found guily for the murder of his friend/semi-pro player Oldin Lloyd. Viewers were given a sneak peek into his life through interviews with people who were closest to the tight end, including friends and former teammates.

Getting a behind-the-scenes look at Aaron's life, fans and spectators were shocked by the events that led up to him taking his own life. The doc-series was quite disturbing on several levels and Twitter was in a tizzy.

Below are some reactions:

Aaron Hernandez called his fiancé from jail n asked her what she did today and shorty caught an attitude saying “i was involved in a search warrant today AGAIN” and he goes “u still got ur freedom tho so what u stressin’ about!” I really hate men

— mean ass (@nishacange) January 20, 2020

This dude was really trying to win an Oscar in a Aaron Hernandez doc pic.twitter.com/RC7lcVEeMV

— Steve Perrault (@Steve_Perrault) January 20, 2020

Y’all keep saying Aaron Hernandez girlfriend held it down...but what about his cousin Tanya?!?!?!.....she held it TF ZOWNNNNNNN ...she ain’t say SHIT ...she battling cancer...got kids && everything && still didn’t say SHIT she know a lot more than the gf && she never ratted pic.twitter.com/zN3Tn8s3ef

— JazzyYamCakes (@QweenJazze) January 20, 2020

Bow wow deserves an Oscar for his performance in the role of Aaron Hernandez’s girlfriend in the documentary pic.twitter.com/p8gi284vEb

— Richard Sair Ramirez (@SimplySair) January 20, 2020

During the first episode of this Aaron Hernandez story on Netflix... pic.twitter.com/fWm3ffVZSZ

— BlackChefJTaylor (@ChefJTaylor) January 15, 2020

watching the Aaron Hernandez doc anddddddddd sorry to my future son u will NOT be playing football.... ever. Instead, u will be sent straight to acting school to become the next timothee chalamet. these are the rules! mom needs red carpet moments! no sports for u!!

— indy (@itsindysev) January 15, 2020

Yeah this Aaron Hernandez shit is significantly more wild than I expected. Curveballs

— Pete (@gambleandbattle) January 15, 2020

Everybody talking about Aaron Hernadez having CTE, being gay and what not...... but what about the fact HIS MOTHER said all he needed was structure? Like she is happy he was locked up..... what did they put that boy through that turned him into a murderer?

— Frances I RESIST TRUMP DAILY (@francesryab) January 15, 2020

This Aaron Hernadez Doc let's me know the pain inside humans will make them do things to hurt people around them so they can't feel the pain they are going through.

And his mom really messed him up after is padre died that's shitty#AaronHernandez

— Brendon Duron Crudup (@CoachCrudup) January 16, 2020

YO... This Aaron Hernandez story on Netflix is wild.. How much of this could have been avoided if he did not feel trapped in his own head? People CONSTANTLY underestimate the effects of mental illness. IDC, what naysers say, he was fighting internal demons...

— Chris Milton (@fatherofballers) January 15, 2020

My face when #AaronHernandez jokingly asked his agent, from prison, if he could get him a Smith & Wesson deal. Holy shit!!! pic.twitter.com/xBiKnWUKLB

— Tyree (@Tyree901) January 16, 2020

During the final episode, it was revealed 27-year-old Aaron Hernandez suffered the most severe case of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) ever that Boston University researchers had ever seen in a person his age.

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The docu-series focused a lot over whether Aaron struggled with his own sexual identity. His high school teammates/childhood friend Dennis SanSoucie, who played football with him at Bristol Central High School in Connecticut, alleged in the documentary that they participated in a sexual relationship, but kept it lowkey.

So you guys believe him or nah ? #AaronHernadez pic.twitter.com/JlBt7Qqa5s

— Fra (@FraBRAH) January 20, 2020

While some people believed Aaron committed suicide because rumors about him being gay were circulating, his defense attorney, Jose Baez, defended Aaron, claiming the accusations in the documentary are NOT true.

View this post on Instagram

I don’t give a damn about what some lame ass documentary has to say about Aaron. I knew him, they did not and while he was far from perfect, they are not even close to the truth. People have no idea how documentaries are made, the truth is usually found on the cutting room floor. These producers lied directly to my face, so I don’t expect their money making scheme to be much better. #ripchico #baezlawfirm #aaronhernandez

A post shared by Baez Law Firm (@baezlawfirm) on Jan 15, 2020 at 6:37am PST

"I don’t give a damn about what some lame ass documentary has to say about Aaron. I knew him, they did not and while he was far from perfect, they are not even close to the truth," Jose wrote. "People have no idea how documentaries are made, the truth is usually found on the cutting room floor. These producers lied directly to my face, so I don’t expect their money making scheme to be much better. #ripchico #baezlawfirm #aaronhernande"

Jose also spoke out to TMZ about why the doc pissed him off. The site reports:

That's just not the case, though, according to Baez ... who says Aaron's death was triggered by advanced CTE -- a brain disease the tight end had developed since his youth. Baez insists Aaron's sexual orientation played ZERO part in his fate.

The fact SanSoucie made it into the doc pisses off Baez ... who tells us he only agreed to speak on camera if 'Killer Inside' producers promised to NOT interview certain people about Aaron's sexuality.

He didn't mention SanSoucie by name, but Baez made it clear he feels double-crossed by producers. Worth noting ... SanSoucie was the only person who appeared on camera making the gay allegation.

Aaron's ex-fiancee/mother of his daughter Shayanna Jenkins (above at his funeral) also reacted to the docu-series, revealing she was taking a break from social media:

View this post on Instagram

#stayhumble

A post shared by Shayanna Jenkins - Hernandez (@shayjhernandez) on Jan 16, 2020 at 8:57am PST

"I wanted to let all of you sweet sweet souls know I have tried to read every message sent on IG and through email (positive and negative) ... The amount of support and positive energy is again unreal! I'm sure you will all understand how imperative it is to take some time away from social media," she wrote on Instagram.

Former Patriots player Ryan O'Callaghan - who was featured in the doc - also reacted to the docu-series. He never played with Aaron, but he talked about the struggles he faced suppressing his own sexual identity.

"I'm not going to speculate whether (Hernandez) was gay or not," Ryan said. "I was very careful with my words in the documentary to not do that. The last thing I would ever want to do is out someone."

"I knew people that knew him, but that's obviously a lot different than knowing the guy," he continued. "A lot of the answers I gave, I said 'I don't know Aaron, but' or 'I don't know if Aaron is gay or bi but' and those things get edited out."

"I think it's safe to say people don't just go around killing people if they're happy or everything is going great," he said. "I think it's safe to say he had something else going on if that involved his sexuality or what. I can assume some things and other people can safely assume things but I'm not sure what was going on. I think the documentary did a good job of talking about his past, where he came from and had a pretty normal good life until his dad died and things started to go downhill."

The docu-series have led some to believe that the doc heavily focused on the homosexuality angle as a cover up for how prominent CTE is in the NFL:

So...folks claiming Aaron Hernadez being a closeted gay man is a conspiracy to cover up CTE pushed by the NFL? This is some spicy ashy hotep shit. pic.twitter.com/pK0YyWiCoQ

— The Breaking Point (@ProductionCog1) January 18, 2020

aaron hernadez had the worst case of CTE ever studied in a 27 year old brain and 99% of deceased NFL players brains also show CTE but alas i imagine holding a multi-billion dollar industry accountable for wrong doings is next to impossible

— demitri parkowski (@demiruthparker) January 18, 2020

conspiracy theory: the NFL wants us to focus on Aaron Hernadez's sexuality to negate the fact that he killed himself because he had CTE which obviously came from playing football

— (@nmb_04) January 19, 2020

After watching the documentary, it def leaves a lot of questions. If you've watched it, what's your take? Share in the comments!

Photos: Getty/AP

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2020/01/21/viewers-of-aaron-hernandez%E2%80%99s-disturbing-netflix-documentary-go-crazy-former-lawyer-slams-

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thethoughtsofaboywhoislost-blog · 5 years

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It's not untypical for young people, who often get confused or confronted with several problems and daily issues. The easiest way to escape from those is to have an amount of friends who can lift you up, but you must separate... Cause it isn't always easy even for ur friends to lift u up in difficult situations. It's usual that parents or other adults will send u to a Doc who should help you. Nevertheless I think that the most important thing for young people is to have good bonds to friends and the family itself. But its easier to say than to do. We as teenagers can take much social or mental pressure, but if teens get pressured in a long term it causes mental illness and it can lend to depression. I believe, we as young generation have to help each other to grow individually.. Yeah this might sounds confusing or controversial to some of u, but in the end it's nothing else than exception, which we all should spread over the world. If u can't grow freely u are not able to widen ur personal horizon or make new experiences... All this leads back to issues and problems of the humankind, because if we take this problem seriously than its obvious that all of us want to help each other, but nobody wants trustworthy help from anybody cause we do not trust each other good enough. We all speak over our problems, but not fully honest, therefore we have to be more precise and even more careful, if we listen to our friend's problems. This lack of transparency and trust is the reason why so many young people get depressed or mentally ill. I already said that it's so hard for young people to find a close person who they can trust blindly.. For example I know someone who is bisexual, but he never has told anybody about it. One day all problems and issues got so damn much that he had to entrust all his secrets to a single friend.. If he wouldn't have done it, he might wouldn't be here anymore. So he called a friend, before he did that he did a couple of screenshots of his and his crush's Chat. He showed those screenshots to the friend, who he had belt up. She read through the screenshots and in the end there were no unnecessary questions about the crush or anything else. She just accepted his feelings and current situation, so he was able to take a breathe and move forward, because he trusts her blindly.. In the following there happened nothing between the crush and him, but he entrusted his friend everything and he knew, if there would be any new details or things which would make him feel sad he can talk to her. ... and who tried to make a suggestion who this bisexual person might be?? Yeah it's me. Those friends are not just friends they fill a open or lonely space in the timeline of ur entire life. This friends will always remember you that you are not alone and won't be alone if u can offer this way of kindness as well. I think this example describes the mental-status of our generation very well. Maybe our generation can't deal with task which must be solved physically, but therefore our generation has made much progress to solve mentally problems. My goal is to achieve pure inner happiness and on my journey to achieve the goal I have made some progress. Firstly its essential that you have person who knows or is allowed to know every single secret from you. Secondly, this might be the hardest part. You have to be fully honest with yourself and your feelings about your issues. Now the exciting question... How will you pass this? I haven't reached my goal yet, but I know that you just need a friend, yourself and your issue. After you have this in your mind write it down, why? Don't ask, just do it. You might will get to know new points of view. Than you should prepare sth. a letter, a post or anything else, because it's much easier to put all ur feelings on a paper than to speak them out freely. This kind of method should make you feel more confident, because many people reach this point but they aren't confident enough to get any words out of their mouth.. After I talked with her I got a bit more comfortable in this whole thing. Last week I firstly had the opportunity to talk to another friend and he mentioned that he is just having feelings for ***! I wasn't that surprised because I had suggestion after we had our first encounter. But he really motivated me to stand my ground, just like a good friend would do it. We just knew each other since a couple of months so we don't know much about each other. But this did not hold me back to ask how his whole story began and how he and his family and friends dealt with this situation. He said to me that the first person he had talked to was his mum in the following he entrusted himself to close friends and other family members. But his world wasn't always fine, cause not every family member showed respect or acceptance. He told me at the beginning this is kinda the hardest thing of his story.. to get regretted by the own family. I definitely understand his current situation, but I also clearly mentioned that I am not ready to do it yet and I don't know when the perfect moment would be there. Its just a matter of time and time is variable, so u must mirror your inner thoughts with the current time, because nothing is more difficult to control than feelings which can change in time. In addition we want to meet each other so that we can talk personally. I'm glad that I've met him and that he gives me the opportunity to talk with another person about my current situation. At the moment it's still hard to realize how I came to this point or how long I will be in this situation. If I'm honest I also believe that everything can change right now. I can't say in which direction the wind goes, but I really hope that friends like this two will help me to find my direction... Within this paragraph was point three and four. So, you have to memorize, if you want to achieve your goal.. You have to accept that time and passion is necessary. In addition you should except that your vision may change but therefore you have your friends, who will support you in any situation.

#biseuxal #self analysis #there are exceptions #selfworth #goforward

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