#i think this might be the sickest ive ever been

[lord-radish]

Day 3 of COVID, and I'm feeling a lot better already.

I'm still coughing and it still hurts, but the headache is gone and I can drink water without it feeling like I'm swallowing razor blades.

I was also so disoriented yesterday that I had to re-type every third word or so, because it would legit look like a keysmash. I'm back to normal on that front.

I've still got a few days of being sick ahead of me, but it really is night and day how decent I feel today compared to yesterday and the day before.

#it might seem messed up to say but covid isn't even the sickest I've ever been. i had influenza once and it dehydrated me so much #that I legit had to stay in a hospital for four or so days. i was really messed up about hydration back then whereas ive had a lot of water #that being said - I think the reason I'm handling covid as well as I am is because I have *everything* set up to run from my bed #i have eight full bottles of water next to my bed. i have a laptop set up with a charging cord for my phone #I've been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past few days and resting as often as I can #influenza fucked me up so much because I didn't know how to take care of myself. even with covid I'm a lot better abt that sort of thing

[natsmagi]

nat nat hii how are you !! my question for today is do you have a top5 switch songs

OH MAN........ thats a hard question i feel like my top fav switch songs fluctuate all the time BUT UHHHHH IF I HAD TO PICK.

seven days prismagic bc hello. peak

galaxy destiny

brilliant smile

a little bit up

knockin fantasy

i am a sucker for...... cute switch songs.............. i love when its cheerful and happy and joyous it lights up my whole world. Also brilliant smile has the sickest keytar solo ever u cant expect me to just NOT be a sucker for it

BUT AUGH IVE ALSO BEEN OBSESSED WITH WHAT A KIND ECHO U PASS. honestly all 3 of the new solos have been so incredible i think i might have recent release bias. but god. i loev switch and their music so much

#fun fact one time i saw someone make a thread on twitter about what enstars songs they think suck #and they added knockin fantasy to the list #and it pissed me off so fucking badly that knockin fantasy became my 3rd most listened to song in 2022 #i became obsessed w the song out of spite #ask

[haikyustanaccount]

i cant sing anymore

      I know covid is supposed to be over. I know so many people who have moved on, but unfortunately i dont think thatll ever be me. I have long covid. I originally got covid back in january and it was the sickest id been in years. I hd every single symptom. I was unable to function enough to send a single text for days. Eventually most of the symptoms left, but some never did. 

      My lungs never recovered. Before covid I was working out 3 times a week. I had a full class schedule, a job, was active in like 10 clubs and had a million friends. That changed quickly. I just didn’t have the energy I used to. I scaled back so much and i constantly felt like I was missing out but there was nothing I could do. I just didn’t have the strength I used to. I made my way through it, walking long places was tough but i figured it out. Ive always been a resilient person but there was one moment months after the symptoms had long set in.

      I was home for spring break. This was a very emotional time for me and music always helps so I put it on while I was driving to the store. I tried to sing along and I couldn’t. I tried for a bit, but my throat started burning. I just couldnt do it, and that broke me. 

      Singing along to music has always felt so powerful to me. Just listening is great but when you sing your forced to think about what it means to you. I remember screaming along to Praying by Kesha the day I got that fuckhead pedo, john fired. I remember crying while singing along to Back to December by Taylor Swift thinking about him. The one I hurt by not knowing what I was doing. I lost that. I couldnt do it anymore. 

     For a while I didn’t want to write this. It means a lot to me, but in the grand sceme it feels meaningless. Covid has hit so many people worse than me, and this shouldn’t be the thing that affects me the most. But it is, this has hurt me more than anything else. And yeah other people have been hurt more, but we need more people speaking out about the dangers of covid rather than less. so yeah maybe the fact I cant sing anymore doesn’t mean much to most people but it means the world to me. Its a part of my soul i might never get back.

[sleepyoasis]

I got my second dose of the covid vaccine yesterday, and I just have to say, I better be immune to every disease that has ever existed.

#MJ Babbles #they aren't joking when they say you'll be sick the next day #i just spent 2 hours laying on the bathroom floor bc I'd nearly faint if I tried to move #i think this might be the sickest ive ever been #i mean obvi it's worth it over the alternative #but fuck dude

[inosukeslefttoe]

SO i just finished wonder egg priority and i think that with confidence i can say it has been one of my favorite animes like... ever ?? and not even from hyperfixation or obsession over it just... its so fucking real yet so simple in a way that i havent rlly seen shown in any other shows you feel ??

but first i wanna talk about how sexy the art and animation is real quick... HOMIE ITS SO GOOD LIKE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT JUST... serotonin... the characters are all so unique and iconic and fun but not over the top in their designs yknow ??? they seem like regular every day girls but they stand out and theyre all sO CUTE !!!! also i love how the style is like this soft bubbly slice of life lookin stuff with bright happy colors and the most beautiful scenes you could find but they also have the SICKEST fight scenes complete with whimsical animal helpers and terrifying villains and crazy weapons unique to each character. and the animation. god DAMN shawty i am obsessed with everything in this show. i might make a post solely about the art later lol bc i wanna get into the other stuff.

so the themes in the show right ?? it starts just as this cute lil magical girl kinda deal but within the first episode we see that like.. oh damn... thats kinda heavy... tbh i was a little shocked and thought about stopping bc yknow bad mental health BUT i was so intrigued that i had to keep going and i am SO GLAD that i did. because this show just so beautifully discusses all these heavy topics in such an eloquent and artistically expressive way. and also like, , the juxtaposition of the charming childlike vibe with bright colors and 14 yr old girl protagonists against the dark themes of suicide and so much else,, i think is just perfect. bc a lot of heavy animes are more of the seinen genre and have some middle aged dude as a protag or make the entire color palette dim or offer little relief to the pain of these heavy themes right ?? but NO not wonder egg bitches B) because these problems arent just things that ppl face later in life or just problems that need to be talked about among adults or the edgy seinen watching squad,, these are REAL problems that face people of every age, gender etc and i think its awesome that wonder egg addresses that. some may cringe at the thought of their high schooler watching animes that discuss sexual harassment, suicide, abuse, self harm, eating disorders etc,, but in reality it is the most comforting thing i have ever come across and is basically jsut free anime therapy. because not only does wonder egg present these themes to the viewers as something real that happens to all kinds of people (making said people feel heard in a way that maybe they hadnt before), but it also makes sure to vanquish all of these forms of trauma. and the way the trauma is vanquished isnt always beautiful and it isnt always just magically gone with a poof. the struggles of overcoming or living with that sort of thing are shown in such a real and relatable way that addresses every hardship trauma survivors have to go through. and i just. god i cry bro. 

oh m y GOD and the lgbtq+ rep in this show ?? like shawty... as soon as i saw episode one i was picking up on some gay/lesbian themes but then again im sapphic and project that a lot so i tend to see that sort of stuff like... everywhere... but NE WAYS... episode ten made me FUKCING CRY BRO LIke i cant believe there was a whole trans character with a whole trans pride hoodie like LKGHKDGH my heart is just so.. so fucking full thinking about him. bc like yeah i know there are trans characters in anime but i feel like theyre always very ambiguous about actually being trans or not or erased or portrayed as a harmful stereotype or theyre constantly misgendered and still refered to as their assigned gender at birth and i hate it. HOWEVEr... Kaoru.. *chefs kiss* it was so amazing to see a character straight up say “yeah im trans” in such a casual yet powerful way bc i personally have never seen that before. and i love love loved how he went into his backstory and talked to momoe about gender bc i think thats what she rlly needed and that it helped her find herself and it makes me so happy oh my god,, and the way they talked about it never seemed forced or like it was the focal point of his existence yknow ?? like yeah he existed to help momoe overcome some of her trauma but he also just existed to be HIM yknow ?? also... personally, i headcanon momoe as a trans girl even though i dont remember it being explicitly stated plus the school scenes of her and stuff would seem like they suggest otherwise ??but,,, SHAWTY THE AMOUNT OF SUBTEXT and her complicated relationship w gender is... something i feel like a cis girl would not go through so harshly yknow ?? with all of the questioning and feeling detached from femininity or feeling like ppl dont see her as an actual girl and only like her as a guy or for her masculine traits,,, but dont take my word on this bc i myself am a cis girl but that was just my take on it as someone in the lgbtq+ community trying to educate myself on the transgender community :) either way,, wonder eggs portrayal of momoe and kaoru and the way that momoe becomes so passionate about expressing herself the way she wants to as a girl is just... good lord im gonna cry its so perfect,,,.so ... i just love this show way too much. i also am honestly super lost about the relationship btwn acca and ura-acca ?? bc i was gonna mention ura-acca as a canonically gay guy bc when i was watching i interpreted ep 11 as him being in love with acca and being jealous of Azusa (bc i mean,, they lived together (i swear to god there was only one bed in that apartment) and had a daughter together and def loved each other and also when Frill said they were husbands and then when ura-acca said he wasnt attracted to azusa but he was def jealous of their relationship ??) but then i saw somewhere that theyre brothers ?? which would make sense ig since they look kinda similar and accas daughter called ura-acca “uncle”.. but at the same time its ANIME SO THEY ALL LOOK SIMILAR and referring to gay couples as siblings is an EXTREMELY common euphemism soooo... IM JUST LOST HERE... but yeah i tried doing research and found different things so i cant say anything for sure >:( however,,, if they are canonically a lil fruity for each other... when frill refered to acca as ura-accas husband i imploded dude you never hear that sort of wording in anime.. but if theyre related i am so sorry. 

god this is so much longer than i planned it to be oops but i also love the theme about like.. relying on friends to help carry your weight but at the same time not becoming completely dependent on those friends and using their support to learn how to love yourself and rely on yourself yknow ?? bc that is exactly what healthy friendships look like. bc i think ai sort of had a codependency thing goin on with koito maybe ?? but now she has a whole squad of funky friends that are so so different but all struggle with different kinds of trauma and although they fight over it, they always get through it with each other together. and they push each other no matter what to be the best versions of themselves and they teach other that getting hurt is okay because theyre always gonna be there to pick up the pieces no matter what happens. they can give each other space when they need and adapt to meet each others needs but theyre always able to balance it out with their own needs and thats such a beautiful thing in friendships especially at their age like damn i wish i had that maturity when i was 14 but no all i had was depression. another thing is that through these friendships you get to see all the different sides of each girl; you get to see them being strong or a shining light to their friends when theyre hurting but you also get to see them being hurt and weak and allowing themselves to be on the receiving end of the comfort. their friendships allows them to have weaknesses but it also allows them to highlight their strengths and thrive off of each others. I LOVE FRIENDSHIP DUDE

next i wanna briefly mention some of the themes connected to suicide that ive noticed. a big one is the survivors guilt that ai feels once koito is dead. several times she screams that she wishes she couldve gone with koito and she dreams of a “perfect world” where they committed a double suicide. one of the main reasons for her troubles is that she blames herself for koitos death and feels like it should be her thats dead... but at the same time she feels like too much of a coward to do anything now that koito is gone. she just has all these complex and contradicting feelings that wear away at her in ways that ppl that havent gone through the suicide of a loved one could never imagine. a lot of the times when things like this are portrayed in media i feel like its more in a way thats meant to guilt trip those that have taken their own lives and paint suicide as this selfish sin thats unforgivable but... not only does wonder egg reject that idea and instead portray it as a heartbreaking tragedy with,,, so so many terrible reasons, but it focuses on the feelings of ai separate from koito without blaming her in any way. not once did i feel like the show antagonized koito or that ai blamed koito for doing any of this, but they simply mourned her loss and touched on ais reaction towards the event but separate from koito herself if that makes sense. and i think that discussing survivors guilt without painting koito as the bad guy is something so beautifully done in wonder egg that can really resonate with those that have lost a loved one to suicide and have struggled with these same things.

okay i think this is the last thing ill mention,,, but HOMIE THE PARALLEL UNIVERSE BIT AT THE END. I AM. OBSESSED. i am such a whore for anything about the multiverse okay n e ways...,, not only did this make a super epic trippy ending of season one and add a little bit more magical girl whimsy to the show,, but it had such a powerful message. from the perspective of og ai,, finding out that you killed yourself in another world is... i mean its definitely not a surprise but at the same time it rlly makes you think how close og ai herself couldve been to that point and what decisions led her out of that dark place in her life. if i were in her shoes i would be terrified and id cry bc the thought of going back to such a dark place and actually going through with something like that is my worst fear and probably something that ai fears too. but at the same time,,, think from the perspective of ai two !!! like yeah its true that theres this awful terrible version of ai that dies but theres also a whole version of ai that is a superhero magical girl fighting off monsters to save countless ppls lives !! and she has a badass lizard and a gang of awesome friends !!! at first i was worried that ai two would be jealous of og ai and compare herself to her and feel inferior but like.. THEYRE LITERALLY THE SAME PERSON AND CAPABLE OF THE SAME THINGS !!! and ai two realized that !! just within the span of one episode, she went from the version of ai who took her life,, to the version of ai jumping in front of a friend to take a bullet for them and save their life. and that just inspired THE SHIT OUT OF ME. i think that ai was sent another version of herself to sort of beat her own worst enemy yknow ?? those doubts and fears that shes no good or that shes that same bystander from episode one and that she hasnt changed at all. but getting to interact with her parallel self and see her grow was just what she needed to realize that while yeah sometimes the worst thing can happen and things can be terrible but on the other hand sometimes the most wonderful thing imaginable can happen because she has the power to do either. 

so im gonna go ahead and stop rambling bc i got all my thoughts out that i wanted to for this post :D but yeah lol i might make another if i feel like it sometime. long story short: this show is perfect and it is going on my favorite of all times.

#wonder egg priority #wonder egg spoilers #ai ohto #rika kawai #momoe sawaki #wonder egg priority neiru #i forgot neirus name #anime review #wonder egg ai #lgbtq anime

[orlamccools]

brö just saw a headline talking abt how people who got the moderna shot are allowed to get a booster 8 months after their second dose and like thats all well and good in all. but like i have a few concerns abt that plan

Number one (quite frankly my biggest one) is that i work at two public facing jobs where i come into contact w a fuckton of people every day, most of them unmasked. it is incredibly unlikely iowa is going to enforce any sort of mask mandate (like theyre technically illegal here). i received my second dose in May, which means i wont be able to get the booster until January….which is right after the holiday season, when people are going to be traveling, stores are gonna be packed and im going to be exposed to more people than ever before. i wear a mask at the bookstore bc bn corporate strongly encourages it and im planning to start wearing mine again at hy vee but like. its still scary bc masks arent exactly a guarantee.

number two is more personal and not really as valid but like. still something i worry about and thats how the vaccine is gonna make me feel. i posted abt it on here a little bit but the second dose fucking hit me like a truck. i am a healthy person and do not get sick very often, but the vaccine literally made me the sickest ive ever been in my entire life. i alternated between burning hot and freezing cold scarily fast, the inside of my head felt like it was dragged 70 mph down a concrete freeway, and i was so genuinely out of it mentally i think i started hallucinating. i was fully talking to someone about fundamentalist mormons in like the middle of the night and hearing someone talk back and hold a conversation w me. it might have a lucid dream but i stg it felt so real the next day i wanted to talk to that person again. and yes getting sick bc of the vaccine is actually better than covid but still. if the third dose hits harder then idk how im gonna handle that lol

anyways these are just ramblings feel free to ignore jus twanted to get it all out there

#maddie mumbles

[timextoxhajima]

hyunjae vs san

DEFINITELY SAN NO QUESTION AHHAA maybe bec ateez is smaller and so i like san a little more in ateez than compared to hj in tbz... san knows taekwondo and volleyball and he might be smaller in frame than hyunjae but that's more attractive to me in some.. sense? I'm thinking of an analogy but nothing is coming to mind man. OH and san's demeanor on stage vs off is SO different it kinda turns me on a little ngl (i have MAD respect and admiration for idols who can do that) and ive been in this kpop scene for super long, it becomes difficult to catch my eye? And san has one of the SICKEST facial expressions and energies i have ever seen in kpop. Also maybe because san's eyes literally HALVE and his dimple pops out grrrrr

[consultingsister-aa]

❤ [ love, Sebastian ]

FOUR AND ONE // @asteriananthologies

❤  five four times my muse says they don’t love yours, and the one time they admit it.

I. Cecelia’s life has improved greatly the day she realised it didn’t need to be anyones birthday to buy cake. During the awkward ten minutes between her getting out of work and Charlotte getting out of school she had picked out a three layer chocolate cake, grin on her face from tesco. Of course, Charlie had chastised her for the decision, although it didn’t stop her digging in when they got home. Probably because she knew this was the closest thing Celia got to making dinner. Perched against the breakfast bar in the kitchen, while Charlie sat in one of the spinning chairs, they each attacked the cake with forks, enjoying the almost rebellious feel of not cutting it up into slices. “Do you think you and daddy would ever get back together?” Innocent eyes look up at Celia, as if she was just asking if she had a nice day at work. She knew what she was doing, Cee was sure of it. 

As she chews on her mouthful of cake, she pretends to consider. She can understand her daughter’s desire. It would be nice to have a settled home life. “No. We’re very different people now. Does that make you sad?” 

To her mother’s surprise, Charlie shakes her head rather vigorously, swallowing her cake before admitting, “I like having two christmases.” Celia points her fork towards her with a lazy flick of her wrist, as if to say, that’s my girl. “I know why you don’t want to be with James though. It’s because you love Sebastian now. That’s okay by the way, I know I should be sad about it but I like Seb too.” She gets it all out in one breath, obviously it’s been on her mind for a while. Now Cecelia really does choke on her cake; coughing and spluttering as she meets the younger girls look, shock etched into her own watering eyes. “Charlotte, I do not love Moran. What the hell?” 

II. “You do know that if- when this all goes to plan, your boyfriend shall be going to prison as well, Cece?”

221b Baker Street was a mess of files, papers, documents, crime scene photos and half drunk cups of tea. No seat, surface or inch of wallpaper was free from some sort of proof that James Moriarty was, in fact, the world’s most evil man alive. Or at least, in the opinion of the rooms occupants. Sherlock lent against the mantelpiece, looking tired but satisfied while Mycroft and John had managed to clear enough space on the dining room chairs to sit. Celia, on the other hand, stood in the middle of the room, looking around their compiled evidence with barely hidden glee, only for her smile to fall at Sherlock’s words. “And who exactly is my boyfriend today?” 

But it was John who offered up an answered, muffled slightly by the hand covering his face. “Sebastian Moran is my first guess.” He peaks through his fingers to see Celia’s look of shock mingled fury and grins at her. “Cee, we’ve been following Moriarty’s staff for weeks. You think we didn’t know you met up with him? We actually considered you might be working for Moriarty at one point. They Sherlock noticed you were twirling your hair around your finger whenever you talked to him. Classic Cecelia in love move. Mary confirmed it for us.” All three of the men seemed to get more and more satisfaction from her, as Cecelia stared about, open mouthed. She actually hadn’t known they were following Sebastian. They had considered that as risky as following Moriarty himself, but obviously they had worked around that. Without telling her! Maybe this was back when they thought she might have been a double agent. She’s actually sort of pleased with that vote of confidence from them all, but the idea that she was in love with Sebastian Moran? Fucking ridiculous. She stutters over her words. “I don’t– I’m not– for fuck sake!” They’re all grining now. “I do not love Sebastian fucking Moran!” 

III. Celia has never been good with blood. The fact she only gets vaguely nauseous these days is actually a grande improvement. Having completed one year of medicine at university though seems to have given people this idea that she’s practically a doctor. What most people don’t seem to realise is she spent every second class outside the lab breathing deeply in an attempt to get the corrider to stop spinning. She’s half convinced that this ‘turning up on her doorstep bleeding to death’ thing is her friends idea of exposure therapy. She also doesn’t totally buy that she was the closest safe house to Sebastian when he got stabbed; surely Moriarty has better places for his staff, and his second in command no less, to get stitched up than her house. Still, apart from all the blood, she’s pleased to see him. It gives her a little rush to know that he would come to her when in need. She’s always liked to be needed. “I want you to know,” Cee begins, breathing through her mouth as she pokes him with her needle, wincing herself, “that I’m not doing this out of love or compassion or anything, I’m doing it so you don’t bleed all over my carpet. Medical care is free in England, ya know? I’m charging you.” 

IV. What might be for the first time in her life, Celia looks awful. Her whole face is completely drained of blood and dark bags underline her eyes; a mess of lack of sleep and waterproof mascara not coming off. She can’t exactly sit up to greet him, three broken ribs will do that to you, but she does offer Moran a grin. Maybe it’s the fluorescent hospital lights, but even this small amount of effort seems to flush her cheeks and sickly green. 

She knows what he did. Moriarty would have likely gone the full hog and killed her the night previous if it wasn’t for him. Cee would have liked to say she didn’t give the criminal mastermind what he wanted but her threshold for pain is very low and she’ll cry at the drop of a hat these days. She’s not sure how long Moriarty got alone with her. It felt like hours but it could have been minutes for all she knows. He had sweetly explained to her that he was going to hurt her with the intention of causing the most pain he could, without allowing her to pass out or become unconscious from lack of blood. You can imagine the mess Cecelia was in then when Mycroft finally showed up with an army of policemen and ambulance crew, no Moriarty in sight. But she knew, she knew who had talked Moriarty out of his plan, and she knew who had called her brothers. He had appeared above her last night, in a haze of tears and pain like a guardian angel, willing her to stay awake. It was so hazy now she could not have been sure it was even him, but his visit to her sick bed confirmed it for her. He can’t stay long, she knows that before her says it. The only thing worse that Mycroft finding out would be Moriarty finding out about his visit. She’s starting to understand now. “It wasn’t just because of our case against him,” she whispers, her throat dry and scratchy from all the screaming and begging the night before. “He thinks you–” tears are rolling down her cheeks already. “He thinks we love each other.” She forced a smile. “I assured him we did not.” 

V. It had been months of rain. She knew that was impossible, if the rain didn’t let up for months they would probably all drown or something, but that’s what it felt like. New York City was as grey as London was when she left it. The whole world was grey without Charlie in it. Pointless people leading pointless lives, going about their business like the world didn’t end when Charlotte Holmes did. Cecelia’s world ended. She’ll carry on for the sake of carrying on but her hearts not really in it anymore. She tries to find passions in other things; persuading herself that Charlie wouldn’t have wanted her to just give up. In truth she doesn’t know what Charlotte would have wanted. It probably doesn’t even occur to a nine year old what she would want for her mother after she died. Parents shouldn’t have to bury their children; it was one of life’s sickest jokes. In a shallow attempt to remove herself from her own grief, Cecelia had uprooted her life in London and gone across the pond. New York had always held a sort of fantastic distraction for her before, but the grey cloud had followed her over to the States and hung above her head as a permanent fixture. Everyone was getting bored of her depression, she could feel them judging her silently, it’s been a couple months now, she should be over it. 

She’s been so numb to everything lately she isn’t even worried her door is unlocked, even though she is sure she did leave it locked this morning. It’s not like her to be so forgetful, although she’s not been herself of late. But the light on the living room… that is wrong. The man on the chair in the corner? Definitely out of place. She didn’t leave that here this morning. “Oh my god, what do you want?” She throws her purse to the sofa, heading directly to the drinks cabinet. He’s already got there before her; doors open; glass missing. “I have nothing–” her voice breaks and presses her hand to her mouth to cover a sob. “I have nothing else to give you Sebastian!”

It’s sick how much she’s missed him. She’s wanted to hate him, tried to with all her heart. But, as hard as she tries, she can’t. She can’t even blame him. He didn’t want her dead, she’s vaguely aware he’s as cut up about it as anyone. Maybe not her, but surely she gets some sort of mothers-privilege. She gets to be the most sad. 

“What happened? Did she go with you with willingly? That’s how much that little girl trusted you. She left her own home with you because– because I said she would always be safe with you. I did. I promised her.” This has been bubbling for weeks. The grief has given way to anger, finally. It makes her even more mad that he’s going to just sit there and take it like a wounded puppy. That’s all he is, he’s a dog on a leash, Moriarty giving commands. Sit boy, come, fetch Charlotte Holmes and lead her to her death! It makes her sick. 

“I trusted you.” Her voice is thick with tears. “I did more than that, I loved you. I loved you so much.” 

#me? crying? probably #blood -- #torture -- #child death -- #asteriananthologies #( ᴏᴏᴄ ┊ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍᴀɪʟ! ) ⤿ message #( ᴏᴛᴘ ┊ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ ) ⤿ cee & sebastian

[deepfriedtwinkie]

Kingsman: A Trainee’s Mission (Pt. VIII)

PREQUEL FIC, this section ~2,300w

pt. I  | pt. II  | pt. III  | pt. IV  | pt. V  | pt. VI  | pt. VII

.

.

It’s four of them left at the end. Harry, Hamish, and their final hurdles, Derrington and William. He thinks back to the moment they stood there, proposing agents at their shoulders, and listened to Arthur inform them they’d reached the final stage.

Everything had rung in his ears for the remainder of the night. Possibly it might’ve had a thing or two to do with being drugged, but there’s plenty reason enough to doubt it was only that. Surreality, for one thing. Utter surreality.

One sentence, and his goal was within reach. No other candidate craves this the way he does. They haven’t had the chance.

He’s finally reached the stage that’s going to change his life forever. One way or another.

Harry glances anxiously around the drawing room where he was told to wait, kneading his hands, minding Mr. Pickle at his feet. He’s trying to conjure up a focused mental review of his past twenty-four hours with Martin. There’d been plenty of advice, he was sure. Peppered with years of a seasoned field agent’s wisdom, cautionary tales, and all sorts of things like that. The problem is, the only thing he can seem to remember is the proper way to make a martini. Ice, gin, vermouth, shake, pour, garnish. It’s not very helpful at the moment.

His gaze jumps up when the door opens, expecting Arthur. Instead, it’s Hamish, Ainsley loping obediently at his heels. He shuts the door behind him and comes to sit, settling on the far end of Harry’s divan.

The two hold a shared look for a beat or two, capped off with singular nods. It’s a heavy moment, and that’s acknowledgment enough of that.

Until it isn’t, because who are they to kid themselves at this point.

“Are you nervous?” Hamish asks quietly. It’s the most pensive Harry’s ever heard him.

He can’t give that anything but honesty. He lets his head bob. “Yes. Very much.” Then he looks left, watching his friend contemplate his hands. “You?”

The silence lasts far longer than he expected it to. Hamish doesn’t look up. He hardly moves at all, in fact. It lasts until Harry is tempted to ask what the matter is.

Then, without preamble, he doesn’t have to.

“My aunt died three years ago,” Hamish says.

Immediately, Harry’s empathy is lead in his stomach. He wouldn’t dream of prodding this time.

“I was just a tyke when my parents’ car wrecked in the highlands. Didn’t even think twice before she took me in.”

He has to pause. Harry’s overwhelmingly compelled to let him off the hook.

“You don’t have to tell me any of this,” he insists softly.

Hamish’s head shakes. His hands cover his knees, and his glance finds the window. He continues. “We lived in Edinburgh. Got by all right on her pension, and she’d patch up the neighbors’ clothes for a discount whenever we needed a little extra. Worked her fingers to the bone for me, she did. Then, one day… Pneumonia. Ten days in hospital, and that was it. It was foster homes after that. Four, maybe five of them. Shit ones, mostly.”

The more of this he says out loud, the more vulnerability his stoic face betrays. Harry knows what’s coming. It doesn’t take a genius to get there.

“I turned eighteen a week ago,” Hamish reveals, and it’s the softest part of all. His eyes drift somewhere far away. “If this…”

He doesn’t say any more. They both know he doesn’t have to. Harry works out the rest on his own. There won’t be another foster home. Or any funds to follow his intern work to Berlin, either.

There’s nothing left for Hamish out there. Nowhere to go.

Maybe he’s not the one who wants this the most after all.

Harry wracks his brain for something to say. It takes several moments, but he lands on something he thinks might hit the right note. His inspiration licks her paw.

“Is Ainsley named after her?” he asks.

Hamish nods again. It’s hard to spot at first, but one side of his mouth shows signs of twisting toward amusement. “What’d you study at Oxford, anyway? Let me guess: psychology?”

“Political science major with a minor in entomology, specializing in lepidoptery.”

“Lepi-what-the-fuck?”

“It’s the study of butterflies.”

“I was right, you’re something the fuck else.” Grinning faintly now, Hamish sighs, and he retraces his mental steps, idly scratching behind his bloodhound’s ear. “Mrs. Ainsley. Her and my mother’s maiden name. That’s what she liked everyone to call her. God help the sod who didn’t. It was Aunt Ainsley to me, too, no exceptions.”

Hopefully it’s in good taste to ask questions again, because he can’t resist poking at the pattern he’s seeing. He’s a shit, after all. “Why was that?”

“Oh, her first name was Agathe. She fucking hated the thing.”

Harry’s urge to laugh slips free before he can temper it.  Slowly, it catches, and by the time Arthur appears in the doorway, the two of them are confusing the hell out of the dogs, employing sleeves to rid the tears from their eyes.

“We’re ready for the both of you,” Arthur says. “If and when you’re quite finished.” He gives nothing more to their antics past a single peaked eyebrow. It’s very evidently not his first foray, but he looks like he’d love for it to be the last. Harry straightens quickly, aware of Hamish doing the same.

The adjacent doors have opened as well. One to the right, the other left. Lamorak is framed in one. Lancelot in the other.

There’s one order of business left before he takes his summons. Standing tall, Harry protrudes his hand to Hamish.

“Good luck, friend.”

Hamish clasps it, shaking heartily.

“And to you.”

Whatever awaits, may we both be Kingsman when it’s through with.

Turning apart, they go their separate ways. Harry hears the shutting of doors behind him, comforted by Mr. Pickle’s loyal trot as he meets Agent Lamorak, entering a sunlit parlor. It’s the sort of room he’d love to read a book in. Maybe he will, once he’s an agent. Because he’s going to be an agent. He’s going to be.

“Have a seat,” Martin instructs. Harry does, and so does Mr. Pickle. Just look at you. You couldn’t possibly be better behaved. I hope you know how much I appreciate you making me look good on this.

After all this time, he knows better than to expect his instructions straightforwardly. He knows to wait for them. He’s still waiting when Martin reaches into his jacket, pulling out his handgun. Extending it to him.

“Take it,” he says.

The sinking feeling in the pit of his gut knows something that he doesn’t. He wishes it would tell him sooner than later. Harry takes the weapon cautiously, eyes plastered to the agent’s face, seeking out the answer.

“That’s a full clip.”

It seems a little obvious to point out. You don’t say? I’d have expected most Kingsman to carry around empties for the fun of it. The fact that he’s deflecting even in his own head is a fairly severe warning sign.

Something is wrong. Something awful is coming. He just doesn’t know what.

Until Martin calmly finishes his sip of liquor.

“Shoot the dog,” he says.

Harry’s world narrows to a single frame, zooming nauseously to a point, and that point is Mr. Pickle’s trusting face. He wants to retch. He wants to turn the gun on Martin, just for the suggestion, and fuck all he’s done for him. All he can do is stare at him in shock.

How can this be what you want from me? How can this be what you’re asking?

He wonders if his mother would fault him if he left this room and never looked back. He wonders how long it would take him to fault himself.

He rips his appalled gape away from Lamorak, landing it where it belongs, letting it soften to something between pure love and despair. Mr. Pickle shifts his weight patiently to new paws, unaware of any of this. Unaware that he… That this could…

He can’t even think it. He can’t imagine a world in which obeying that order is okay. In which he can live with himself in the aftermath. Every suit would be blood red to him. Every one of his triumphs tainted with the sickest form of selfishness, the murder of something that had unconditionally loved and trusted him, who hadn’t done a thing to anyone. A completely–

Harry’s mind reboots itself.

A completely innocent being.

A Kingsman only condones the risking of one life to save another.

Things begin to click faster than he knows what to do with them.

The net in the gorge.

The bombs that stopped at zero.

Why specifically tell me the gun was loaded, unless…?

The danger was never real. All this time, it was never real. We were only meant to think it was.

Martin isn’t asking mindless obedience. Kingsman aren’t killing machines, and they don’t want them. He’s asking for comprehension. He’s asking if he’s understood.

Harry bolts to his feet, hands quivering. He has to do it before his nerve fails him. He has to do it now. It has to be now.

His trembling aim rises. Then steadies, by force. Mr. Pickle’s amber eyes glint up at him from over the barrel. His revelation didn’t end his insides’ churn, and neither does that.

Please, please God, let me be right. Don’t let me hurt this dog. Please, I beg of you, don’t let me have gotten this wrong. Don’t let me be wrong…

He fires.

The pellet bounces off Mr. Pickle’s fur. He staggers backward with a whimper.

Nothing more.

The gun is on the ground and Harry’s dog is in his arms before he registers, even remotely, that the sound of his gunshot was doubled by the room across the way.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart, did that nasty thing hit you?” Mr. Pickle is wriggling like mad, stretching to reach his face and lick every inch of it, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Laughter bubbles out of him with tears, and it’s hard to tell which came first. “Oh, yes, I know. I know. I would never hurt you. I would never, ever hurt you, Mr. Pickle. Not for all the money in the world. Not for a thing.”

Martin rises while Harry’s still pressing soothing kisses to Mr. Pickle’s scruff. After another half-dozen or so, he finally senses he should pay attention, and looks over in time to see Martin replace his weapon, straighten his jacket, and offer his hand.

It’s then that it happens. He’s unprepared to commit it to memory, but he’s going to anyway.

“Welcome,” says Martin, “to Kingsman. Agent Galahad.”

Welcome to Kingsman.

Gently, Harry plops Mr. Pickle back to the floor. His eyes are full this time, and he makes no excuse for them. Reflex takes Martin’s hand for him. He barely feels his arm move.

Thank you, sir. His brain sends the command to his mouth. “And Derrington…?” is what incredulously comes out instead.

Please don’t let there be a chance of losing this. Don’t let there be an asterisk.

“Shot the dog, too,” Martin says, pumping his hand. Harry’s heart nearly stops, and so does the handshake. It’s Martin’s look that saves it. “Then thought the blank must be some mistake. Tried to take Geraint’s sidepiece and finish the job. I hear Molly bit him. No one stopped her, either. He’ll be on his way home once the dart wears off.”

Harry exhales so heavily his lungs might as well be raisins. Never in his life has he been so grateful a human being turned out that depraved.

“You’ve done it, Harry,” Martin confirms with a grin. “We all knew you could. Your mother will be extraordinarily proud.”

Mother… He’s got to phone her. He’s got to get to a telephone. He’s got to…

No, not yet. Not yet.

There was a second gunshot.

He grabs his mentor’s hand again, rattling away at his elbow like a lineman in a lever factory. “Thank you, sir. Thank you, I’m honored. I… May I be excused?”

There’s something knowing in Martin’s expression, and he nods. “Go on.”

Scooping up Mr. Pickle, Harry all but throws open the door. The one on the other side is already open, framing Lancelot again, only this time, smiling in the background. Hamish is already charging to the middle of the drawing room.

Grinning ear-to-ear.

“William?” Harry demands.

“Couldn’t do it; Kay sent him home.”

“Ainsley?”

“She’s all right.”

If there’s anything his memory allows him to keep about this day, anything that holds its clarity instead of fading to the blur of awe and adrenaline, Harry wants it to be this. The moment that he extends his hand again, this time brimming with the glee of a ten-year-old boy, standing tall in a Kingsman agent’s shoes.

“It’s an honor to be working with you, Merlin.”

No one else knows the relief on his friend’s face like he does. Hamish shakes, blinking back tears of his own. “And with you, Agent Galahad.”

“Agent Galahad!”

There’s no parrot in the room. It’s Martin again, emerging from the parlor holding a sheet of fax paper, radiating alarm.

“Don’t get comfortable. I’m going to need backup. Come with me. Your suit’s on the plane.”

“Merlin, to the control room, quickly. Arthur will meet you there,” Lancelot orders.

There’s only time for a sharp nod each, and Hamish claps Harry’s shoulder. Then the two of them are off down the corridors, scored by the sound of a piped-in radio broadcast.

For those of you just tuning in, the date is Wednesday, twenty-nine July, and what a beautifully clear morning for the wedding of the century…

.

pt. IX

#Kingsman #Harry Hart #Agent Merlin #Kingsman: The Secret Service #Kingsman: The Golden Circle #fanfic #oh look Aud did a thing #p.s. nobody asked but in case anyone's wondering: his mother's Peggy Carter of SHIELD and his other one is Angie Martinelli #it's @faeriviera's fault and now it's law so there #I leave it vague in this on purpose so y'all can speculate however you want but there it is so have fun

[phawareglobal]

Anna Jeter - phaware® interview #138

Anna Jeter is a long term survivor battling pulmonary hypertension. In this episode, Anna discusses approaching the transplant window and how her patient experience was the driving force behind her to decision to become a registered nurse.

My name is Anna Jeter, and I'm from Minneapolis, Minnesota. I have been a patient of pulmonary hypertension for many years. Me and my parents have really gotten rooted into the community through the PH conferences, but also just through social media and the connections that are made on Facebook, and seeing people's stories pop up, and being able to be connected in that way.

So, I was diagnosed two weeks before my fourth birthday, in 1999, which feels so far away and ridiculous now. So, it's been 18 years. Since then, now we're preparing a little bit more for transplant. We actually started being seen by the Mayo Transplant Clinic my freshman year of college. And sort of withheld just so I could keep pursuing education, as long as I was stable. Now, we're sort of at more of a crossroads making some different decisions and moving forward.

Nobody can definitively say, "We have to do this now." And so, that ended up being a bit of a back and forth game of, this is really probably the right time. And I think a lot of that is the fear that you'll pass the transplant window. Once you decline too much you in a way lose your opportunity. And that's something we never want. And so, it's better to be conservative and we're almost approaching it. Probably right on the cusp of when I'm entering the transplant window, but we would rather be conservative in approach, but now we finally have a consensus and we're able to move forward with a lot of peace, and so that feels really good.

I actually just graduated in May from Bethel University with my nursing degree, and I passed my nursing boards in June. So, I am a registered nurse. I think this is a sentiment that any PH patient would agree with, your nurses play an incredible role in your care. And I think as a kid growing up with a rare complex illness, nurses were the easiest to trust. I received incredible care from incredible doctors, but the nurses were more the comfort, and more of the putting you at ease, treating you like a kid, or treating you like something that was just more than your illness. And that just was incredibly impactful to me.

So, initially going into college, it was kind of this concept of wanting to give back, and wanting to be able to step in this role that had meant so much to me, and that I felt like I had a really good understanding of. And I think the medical field is always interesting to a patient, because I grew up with it, I know so much about medicine that other people aren't able to experience at a young age. And so, that was really the driving force behind nursing for me.

So, I had actually an incredible job lined up in a NICU. And I think the NICU is an area that's particularly interesting for me. It's a little further for home, not quite pediatrics, but it's still that incredibly vulnerable population. It's still working with families and parents, which is something that's really close to my heart after seeing my parents manage this. And so, I do have a huge heart for the NICU.

And as we come up on transplant, we're honestly not sure how nursing will be available to me after transplant. And so, that's something that's always being considered, and we'll have to kind of navigate what roles make sense to me in the medical field after transplant, once I become more vulnerable. You know with immunosuppression. That'll be like the balancing act. Because the first year for sure I just don't think it would ever be recommended for me to be in a hospital setting even. There's just germs everywhere. But it is pretty unknown like long-term where I'll be able to fit in, because NICU is honestly one of the best population I could find, because typically a newly born baby isn't infectious. It'd be more working with like severe care, that's not infectious, which would be pretty ideal. But it's just a matter of whether or not it's safe for me to be in a hospital environment at all. So, that'll definitely be an ongoing conversation.

My nursing education is always going to serve me, and it's always going to allow me to serve others, it's just figuring out how that'll work and what it'll look like. But I do think there's always going to be ways for me to positively interact with patient populations, whether it's being in a nursing role, or just using nursing knowledge to relate in an impactful way.

Some people become nurses because like their mom or their aunt or they're just a family of nurses, and that's what they know from the professional aspect. And so, that's why they step into the role. And then there's a lot of my peers who maybe didn't experience health struggles personally, but for sure have seen like a mother go through breast cancer, or something like that where it's really left them raw and wanting to step into that role for those reason. Then there's like me, and I honestly think it was unique to be stepping in having so much patient experience. I don't know if that's quite as common, but there's always for sure those reason. I mean nursing is a very oddly personal career to step into. And I think people always have a bit of history with why they're doing it.

Going to college was a bit of a whirlwind for me. So, right when I graduated high school, stuff just really took a dip for me health wise. And that summer is probably like one of the sickest periods I had. That's why we ended up in the transplant clinic at Mayo. And we were able to correct some stuff, and my health kind of took a usual upswing and I stabilized again, but it was this period where we were like, "Wow, I might not be able to go to college." And that was like a very real fear. So, that combined with just even having pulmonary hypertension, and then suddenly my mom and dad having to send me off, was all pretty extreme.

I think there's definitely shifts in responsibilities. Having to mix my own IV medications, having to be my own reminder for taking my pills every day. And I feel like that's stuff that we worked on shifting those responsibilities during high school, but it's definitely a bigger deal when you're like going away to school and your mom's not around every day. And my school was 45 minutes from home, so not a horrible distance. And my mom would still play her role, still do pill trays, and bring them to me. Tried to still carry some of the burden, so that like I could just be focused on being a college student.

But I think probably most of the anxiety was on my parents, which isn't something they always share, but I think you're sending your relatively sick child off to school to be on their own, and you never know what can happen. And so, that's for sure a fearful thing, but it's also just a matter of communication and me being able to take ownership and say, "Hey, I know my limits. I know when something's wrong. I know when I need to be prioritizing health over all else." Yeah, those were all interesting things to approach going into freshman year, for sure. I mean now I'm 22 and guaranteed to this day it's still the same way. I think that's the nature of being diagnosed as a young kid.

My name is Anna Jeter and I'm aware that I'm rare.

Learn more about pulmonary hypertension at www.phaware365.global. Never miss an episode with the phaware® podcast app. Follow us @phaware on facebook, twitter, instagram, youtube & linkedin Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware

Listen and View more on the official phaware™ podcast site

#pulmonary hypertension #phaware #rare disease #lung disease #clinical trials #podcast #PH #asthma

[arielkrupnik]

Men don't protect you anymore

In order to understand beauty you must stand back in awe of it.

Now that you're not so close to me I can understand you overall. Now is this prehistoric void. From what I understand, beyond sight and I cant be, leave it.

Where in the world how've you been?. I thank you there and your welcome back here. Will I see you grow away and continue to be far feet tall?. Forgetting this far in life we should reward ourselves with a kiss. And I cant reach your lips if you keep raising the balance. There lies a sweaty, hairy, masculine dilemma. It is beautifull of shit. They leave the entrance wide open for you to step in trance, and step out of emotional freedom. As for me, I open adore, that doesnt easily close. Not on anyone. Not by the hairs on my retro fantasies. From not seeing them accomplished I am so sore'y. My sick fantasy is having a battle to see how long I can stay in conversation with someone. My sick fantasy is finally having someone who will fully allow me to use my kind ways and manners that Ive accumulated over the years, upon them for longer periods of time. My sick fantasy is never watching another sports game so long as I shall live. My sick fantasy is to be born again, over and over, in the eyes of others. To go back before everyone knew me, and return to the novelty act I once portrayed. None of you will ever know what I became underneath me. What you thought you knew about me, you should now assume.

My sicker fantasy is sharing so much that we don't know what to bother calling our own. My sicker fantasy is being in a sexual situation that doesn't involve sex. Although, there is a figure I cant figure out.

I cant even put my finger on what makes them special. But I have embraced you ,and it. It made me follow love thats now hungry enough to swallow you in a hug. The body is so inviting, its courteous figure extends my longing for you. My worship started at your heart, and I worked my way out of its every extension in slow motion animation. Licking all bruised wounds and hits, from your lips into your legs; kissing your hips, then legs and in through your lips. Oh I dare the odor I adore to guide me, so I can end up from where I was scent. Or is it the order way around?. Don't 'judge' a book by its 'jury'. All the ones who have done so, have done so to prove they are but immature amateurs. I can heal your sole until I heel your soul. With antique tranquil groove. They will never love you as far as I can take you. We can go, and never stop going till we get there. Dont know if i want to get somewhere in life or if I want to get somewhere in your life. To me, they are the same goal. There exists no realistic difference. We both are well aware of beauty. The more i'll marry her. The more we'll be merrier.

The more she'll begin being. The less I feel, for I cant any longer stand the block-headed jock machoism about men. I cant even believe they have the audacity to pass off the shit they give you as true passion for you. Like a powerless goddess, being fed leather bread and water-proofed soup. Causing you to fall asleep at the dharma wheel, and only waking to tobacco sauce inside each sentence spoken from them. While i consume Tea 'N' Tea, chewing a lot of gum and teeth, thinking of you knowing of me, and how we could be on a killing and shopping spree. Turning over no new leaf, no known leave, no escape to know relief. You only know the passion of a pass shunned and how a paralyzing pair of lies leave you. Limitations are many that you don't see. Limitations are his sincerest form of flattery. Forcing you to crawl into his cave of paralysis that you now wont easily crawl out of. How dare I cut my heart open for you, and die of blood loss, while you might die of thirst. And all I'll have left is a bad feeling for you having to feel hunger in the presence of my skin. Even some of your closest friends can be restrictions, and you'll always be finding ano'their way around them. The zen lunatic I became holds nothing but vintage moral values for all. Feel free to use them against them. We should all be able to treat everyone by now with enough solidarity

to accept what they feel is worth your time. I should be supported for wanting to take the time to man'slaughter men into ashes to ashes, for having women living happily while they lead a dogs life. Then I can beat them men death to death because im in sane. My sickest fantasy is exposing my temptation to do the right thing by everyone. My sickest fantasy is everyone accepting my silent obsession with everyone. My sickest situation is that in every friendship and or relationship I love more than the other for it. He loves more than she does. He loves her more than she will ever love him for - Results of my previously unreleased vulnerability...until now. There will come a point in time though where I will be so bored with conversing with other men in every point of view, that I will not limit myself to just killing time...until then, from now on I sit down to piss and shit. When I drive, my legs will be crossed when I sit. All men's lives should be grilled if they dont feel the passion for the wives or girlfriends they have. If they feel nothing, they can cook themselves in hell, with ketchup and mustard gas. Then the women who were treated like dogs, can claw and consume their way to emotional and complete freedom. To refill the void of passion. Why am I nuts surprised this can never happen?. And why am I the only one who'll make it occur?. And I promise to one day, with someone.

And all these promises I dont just want to hold them, I want to hold them with you. You being the person who holds them and us together. With relaxation glue.

Pretty soon I'll reach my aspiration date, but I haven’t urn'ed it just yet. But at last, I have found the truth forever. It is me in human form.

Every man before me in love is a fraud. I am the real version, of the man you never came to see. The novelty act. You've met imitations, and their love pretends to be me. And shame on all your boyfriends - they came late. Im worth being on your time. I like/love you so fucking too much that every other feeling I show other than that one is fake. Im too "head over heels" for you to actually be 'straight' with you about it. You will never see me because I'll never pass. You'll never meet me because you'll never ask. But if you do, I shall bring myself into your existence. Thinking of me knowing of you, you should realize that between us, there will never be an existing realistic difference. The only difference between you and me, is you know where the beauty is, and i know where its going to be... ...together.

#happy new year

[ohivegotplentyofblackfriend-blog]

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little shit? Ill have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and Ive been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and Im the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. Youre fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and thats just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little clever comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldnt, you didnt, and now youre paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. Youre fucking dead, kiddo.What the fuck did you just fucking say about Navy Seal copypastas, you little newfag? I’ll have you know Navy Seal copypastas are ranked top out of all the comments on the Internet, and they have been translated in numerous contexts on 4chan, and have over 300 confirmed variants. Navy Seal copypastas are trained in memetic warfare and are the top copypasta in the entire circlejerk arsenel. You are nothing to them but just another target. They will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this subreddit, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit about Navy Seal copypastas over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak this copypasta is contacting it's secret network of /b/tards across the USA and your IP is being doxxed right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. Navy Seal copypastas can be anywhere, anytime, and they can confuse you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with mad-lib permutations. Not only are they extensively trained in trolling, but they have access to the entire arsenal of Anonymous and will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the Internet, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. This copypasta will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class at high school, and I’ve been involved in numerous /r/atheism frontpage posts, and I have over 300 confirmed facebook debate wins. I am trained in theology and I’m the top debater on this entire website. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of atheists across the Scandinavian peninsula and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can convince you that god doesn't exist in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare intellect. Not only am I extensively trained in debate, but I have access to the entire arsenal of my local library and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of this website, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, skytard.What in Davy Jones' locker did ye just bark at me, ye scurvy bilgerat? I'll have ye know I be the meanest cutthroat on the seven seas, and I've led numerous raids on fishing villages, and raped over 300 wenches. I be trained in hit-and-run pillaging and be the deadliest with a pistol of all the captains on the high seas. Ye be nothing to me but another source o' swag. I'll have yer guts for garters and keel haul ye like never been done before, hear me true. You think ye can hide behind your newfangled computing device? Think twice on that, scallywag. As we parley I be contacting my secret network o' pirates across the sea and yer port is being tracked right now so ye better prepare for the typhoon, weevil. The kind o' monsoon that'll wipe ye off the map. You're sharkbait, fool. I can sail anywhere, in any waters, and can kill ye in o'er seven hundred ways, and that be just with me hook and fist. Not only do I be top o' the line with a cutlass, but I have an entire pirate fleet at my beck and call and I'll damned sure use it all to wipe yer arse off o' the world, ye dog. If only ye had had the foresight to know what devilish wrath your jibe was about to incur, ye might have belayed the comment. But ye couldn't, ye didn't, and now ye'll pay the ultimate toll, you buffoon. I'll shit fury all over ye and ye'll drown in the depths o' it. You're fish food now, lad.What the flip did thee just flipping gabble about me, thine miniscule bitch? I’ll have thee know I bested the most prestigious jousting class in the whole of Camelot, and I hath been involved in numerous secret marches on behalf of his Majesty, King Arthur, and I hath over 300 confirmed victories on horseback. I am trained in castle of Guerrilla warfare and I am indeed the highest ranking joustee in the entire land of Great Britannia. Thee are nothing to me but another false crossbearer. I will joust thine shambles with precision the likes of which hath never been observed in the King’s lands, mark my flipping words! Thou think thou can escape retribution by shouting that hogwash at me from afar? I implore thee to think again, peasant. As we converse I am contacting my secretive network of knights across the realm and thine footsteps are being traced right now, so thou best prepare thineself for the storm, pig-maggot! The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing thou call your armour. Thou art a flipping dead man. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill thou in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare lance. Not only am I extensively trained in mounted combat, but I hath access to the entire arsenal of the Kings Royal Army, and I shall use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable derriere off the face of the realm, thou miniscule feaces. If only thou could have foreseen what unholy retribution your little “clever” challenge was about to bring down upon thee, maybe thou would have held thee flipping tongue. But thou couldn’t, thou didn’t, and now thee art paying the price, you godd¬amn fool. I shall s¬hit fury all over thou britches and thee will drown in it. Thou art flipping dead, child.What the fuck did you just fucking say about me you little conformist bitch? I'll have you know I graduated by the skin of my teeth in all my courses in community college and I've been making fucking pottery for my whole life and I listen to underground only music. I am trained in whining and I'm the top douchebag in Starbucks. You are nothing to be but a fucking conformist. I will wipe you the fuck out with shit so underground it's in China, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying this shit to me over a fucking conformist site like Facebook? Think again, copy. As we speak I'm contacting my manager at Barnes and Noble and he's got connections with every Apple store manager this side of the Mississippi, and your IP address is being traced so you better prepare for man slaps you little maggot. The man slaps that will knock you on your ass. You're fucking dead, conformist. I can get in my Prius and be anywhere in a matter of hours, anytime and I can berate you in 700 ways, and that's just in English. Not only am I able to speak languages no one else speaks, but I have access to your Twitter account and I will use it to its full extent to wipe out all your followers you little mainstream junkie. If only you could know what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon yo, maybe would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the full price you goddamn mainstream loving bastard. I will shit classic literature all over you, and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, conformist.Wot the fok did ye just say 2 me m8? i dropped out of newcastle primary skool im the sickest bloke ull ever meet & ive nicked 300 candy bars from tha corner store. im trained in street fitin’ & im the strongest foker in tha entire newcastle gym. yer nothin to me but a cheeky lil dickhead w/ a hot mum & fake bling. ill waste u and smash a fokin bottle oer yer head bruv, i swer 2 christ. ya think u can fokin run ya gabber at me whilst sittin on yer arse behind a lil screen? think again wanka. im callin me homeboys rite now preparin for a proper rumble. tha rumble thatll make ur nan sore jus hearin about it. yer a waste bruv. my homeboys be all over tha place & ill beat ya to a proper fokin pulp with me fists wanka. if i aint satisfied w/ that ill borrow me m8s cricket paddle & see if that gets u the fok out o’ newcastle ya daft kunt. if ye had seen this bloody fokin mess commin ye might a’ kept ya gabber from runnin. but it seems yer a stewpid lil twat, innit? ima shite fury & ull drown in it m8. ur in proper mess ya knobheadare you kidding me you little piece of shit i’ll have you know i graduated top of my politics class and i’ve been involved in privilege checking with over 150 confirmed political demonstrations i’m trained in conflict resolution and i was the most oppressed person in my entire upper middle class high school you are nothing to me but another cultural appropriator i will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which have never been seen on this side of the 49th parallel mark my words you think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the internet think again fucker, as we speak i’m checking with my anarcho-communist analyst brigade for your location so you better be prepared to deal with some molotov cocktails and angry feminists flying through your window yOU’RE FUCKING DEAD CHERRY i can be anywhere at any time and i can kill you in over seven hundred ways and that’s just with me boring you to death while i talk about privilege not only am i extensively trained in hotline management but i have access to an entire arsenal of sociological articles to prove my point and i will use them to wipe your fucking face off the earth you little shit if only you had known what oppressed retribution your cultural appropriation would unleash then maybe you would have held your fucking tongue but you couldn’t you’re fucking dead kiddoWhat's this you've said to me, my good friend? Ill have you know I graduated top of my class in conflict resolution, and Ive been involved in numerous friendly discussions, and I have over 300 confirmed friends. I am trained in polite discussions and I'm the top mediator in the entire neighborhood. You are worth more to me than just another target. I hope we will come to have a friendship never before seen on this Earth. Don't you think you might be hurting someone's feelings saying that over the internet? Think about it, my friend. As we speak I am contacting my good friends across the USA and your P.O. box is being traced right now so you better prepare for the greeting cards, friend. The greeting cards that help you with your hate. You should look forward to it, friend. I can be anywhere, anytime for you, and I can calm you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my chess set. Not only am I extensively trained in conflict resolution, but I have access to the entire group of my friends and I will use them to their full extent to start our new friendship. If only you could have known what kindness and love your little comment was about to bring you, maybe you would have reached out sooner. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now we get to start a new friendship, you unique person. I will give you gifts and you might have a hard time keeping up. You're finally living, friend.I sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of soaring over the oilfields dropping hot sticky loads on disgusting foreigners. People say to me that a person being a helicopter is Impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having a plastic surgeon install rotary blades, 30 mm cannons and AMG-114 Hellfire missiles on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me "Apache" and respect my right to kill from above and kill needlessly. If you can't accept me you're a heliphobe and need to check your vehicle privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.I sexually Identify as a meme. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of being uploaded onto the imgur website and linked into the reddit threads. People say to me that a person being a meme is Impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having a computer scientist put my brain into my computer like johnny depp in transendence, equipping me with the dankest of pictures from the internet. From now on I want you guys to call me "Sir Danks-a-lot" and respect my right to meme from above and meme needlessly. If you can't accept me you're a memephobe and need to check your internet privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.I sexually identify as graph paper. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of sorting over the grid drawing beautiful graphs on math homework. People say to me that a person being graph paper is impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having a plastic surgeon tattoo rows, columns and 3 hole punches on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me "Grid" and respect my right to draw graphs and solve equations. If you can't accept me you're a papyrophobe and need to check your graphing privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.I sexually Identify as a ghost pirate. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of sailing the undead seas searching for the afterlife of dave jones' locker . People say to me that a person being a ectoplasmic-sea captain is Impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm sp00ky. I'm having an ethereal cutlass created, a 17th century french sloop and a ghostly crew of shanty singers bought. From now on I want you guys to call me "deadbeard" and respect my right to kill rival poltergeist and photonically phase my being into the next realm . If you can't accept me you're a phantom-buccaneerphobe and need to check your undead-aquatic privilege. Thank you for being so understanding matey.I sexually identify as a Navy Seal. Ever since I was a child I dreamed of being the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. People say to me that having over 300 confirmed kills is impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having a secret network of spies trace your IP right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. From now on, you're fucking dead, kiddo. If you can't accept me you need to check your gorilla privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.I sexually identify as a single, Pringle, ready to mingle. Ever since I was a potato I dreamed of being thin sliced, covered in disgusting oil then heated in a medium oven until reaching climax at the micro second of golden-browness. People bully me, and say things like "what the fuck, you aren't a Pringle", but I know deep down they are just jealous of my inner beauty. I have already started hiding in cylinders all day, and now im improving my crunchiness by regularly burning my sides on the stove. I want you guys to respect my natural ability to instantly satisfy low salt carb cravings, and if you don't you are oppressing me, and you should check your diabetes type. Thank you for being so understanding.I sexually Identify as an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of soaring over the Atlantic ocean ready to release my destructive cargo on filthy commies'. People say to me that a person being a weapon of mass destruction is Impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having ex-Nazi scientists install tungsten plating, 3 stage rockets and a Nuclear warhead on my body. From now on I want people to refer to me as "ICBM" and "WMD" as my preferred pronouns and respect my right to wipe entire cities and cultures from the face of the Earth. If you can't accept me you're Hippy-Trash and need to check your rocket privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.I sexually Identify as a walrus. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of sliding on cold ice with my manly genitalia. People say to me that a person being a walrus is Impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I already choped my arms and feet off and practice robbing around in my bathtub using my fingers as tusks. From now on I want you guys to call me "Arcticus" and respect my right to lay around on an iceberg and dive for free fishfood. If you can't accept me you're a zoophobe and need to check your Green Peace privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.I sexually Identify as an Neckbeard. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of soaring over the Earth tipping m'fedora to beautiful m'ladies . People say to me that a person being a Neckbeard is Impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having a plastic surgeon install anime in my veins , 30 mm fedoras and Meme o' missiles on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me "White Knight" and respect my right to meme from above and tip m'fedora when necessary . If you can't accept me you're an SJW and need to check your privilege. Arigato for being so understanding. tiphi every1 im new!!!!!!! holds up spork my name is katy but u can call me t3h PeNgU1N oF d00m!!!!!!!! lol…as u can see im very random!!!! thats why i came here, 2 meet random ppl like me _… im 13 years old (im mature 4 my age tho!!) i like 2 watch invader zim w/ my girlfreind (im bi if u dont like it deal w/it) its our favorite tv show!!! bcuz its SOOOO random!!!! shes random 2 of course but i want 2 meet more random ppl =) like they say the more the merrier!!!! lol…neways i hope 2 make alot of freinds here so give me lots of commentses!!!! DOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻╰(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ(•_•) ( •_•)>⌐■-■ (⌐■_■)¯\(°_o)/¯Astounding! You have managed to expend effort creating a non-random string of characters which usually convey meaning, yet your overall comment was ABSOLUTELY POINTLESS! It is as though all of the industries of mankind were operated in reverse, with great will and endeavor being used to convert items of usefulness into worthless bare materials! you are the antithesis of all that is grand and great about mankinds capacity for thought and self-determination. You sir, are the mirror image of a meaningful entity, lower than base matter, lower than oblivion, because unlike the brutish deterministic plasma of the unreasoning cosmos, you CHOSE to be without value or worth. Or in the parlance of thine own ilk: LOL N0 UR GAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!11ONE!!!!!ELEVENTY!!!!11!AT LEAST I DON'T SPEND MY TIME SUCKING DICKS IN THE BATHROOM AT OLIVE GARDEN. YOU DIRTY LOWDOWN SLIMY FILTHY DISGUSTING GLUTTONOUS HOGLIKE MOTHER FUCKING COCK SUCKING SON OF AN INCESTUOUS PEDOPHILE SHEMALE RAPIST PROSTITUTE. GET YOUR MOM'S DICK OUT OF YOUR MOUTH. DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GONNA DO? I'M GONNA SHIT SO FAR UP YOUR ASS. STOP FOR A MOMENT AND REALLY GRASP THAT STATEMENT. I AM LITERALLY GOING TO SHIT UP YOUR ASS. I WILL TAKE MY PANTS OFF, RIP YOUR PANTS OFF, OUR SPHINCTERS WILL TOUCH, AND I WILL SHIT. YOU WILL TRY TO COUNTERSHIT. BUT MY SPHINCTER WILL OVERCOME. AND I WILL PUSH A LOG OF SHIT FROM MY ASS UP INTO YOUR BODY. THIS IS WHAT SHALL OCCUR WHEN I FIND YOUR KEYBOARD FUCKING FACE. YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE? I WILL PISS INTO A POT. I WILL ADD CORNSTARCH TO THE PISS AND BOIL IT UNTIL IT GETS REALLY THICK, LIKE SAUCE. I WILL POUR THE THICKENED PISS INTO A PLASTIC CONTAINER AND PUT IT IN THE FRIDGE UNTIL IT HARDENS INTO A FIRM JELLO. THEN I WILL THEN CUT IT INTO RECTANGLES. BATTER IT IN A MIX OF MILK, FLOUR, AND EGGS. AND DEEP FRY IT AT 375 UNTIL GOLDEN BROWN, FLIPPING ONCE SINCE THEY FLOAT. AND I WILL SERVE YOU MY DEEP FRIED PISS. THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR BEING SUCH A FAGGOT. COCKMUFFINI'm more educated than you, in every way shape and form. Also more intelligent than you (exponentially so). I am better than you, in every facet of life, and I don't even know you, however, I just know, that I am. Also, we aren't bro's. If anything, you are someone I assign less value and worth than my own feces. Your life has no value, and you will make no contribution to this world, in your entire life, because of your low intelligence, and lack of skills. How does that feel, you fucking bottom denominator. go back to you vegan subreddit to fill your useless void of a life, pretending it means anything. Am I a narcissist? I don't know, I am a fucking God. I will, do, and have succeeded in every facet of life. I have done more, in this year alone, than you will have achieved before you leave this world... let that sink in. You have no fucking clue who you are talking to. I am so vastly superior, and intelligent, that I can infer all of this, with 100% accuracy. You are like a fucking ant, and I am a GOD. You do not even fly on my radar, let alone get acknowledgement, from the likes of me. I know you can sense my superiority, my power, my intelligence,and you are trying to pretend you don't feel it, its real. To conclude, go back to fucking yourself, you meaningless water-trash bottom feeding peasant.You've won nothing shithead. Wallow in the shit you've created. Because soon, all you've worked for will vanish and you'll be left with nothing. When you least expect it, the shit you talk, you'll choke on it.bitch u mad mf ugly b looking like the little ginger kid from little einstein kill urself btch ill shoot u mf ass meet me irl fuck outta here wicho dorito ass shaped head btch albino gorilla lookin ass mf ill flame u dumb spotty white pizza shaped head lookin elongated ass nose marshmallow man crusty ass mf self right here btchWow. Okay. OKAY. OKAY. Yabba Dabba FUCK you and YABBA DABBA FUCK your shitty FUCKING memes. You are literally worth nothing to me. If I saw your FUCKING UGLY ASS FACE on the street, I'd take a big loaded shotgun to your mouth, faggot. I have always wanted to murder you, your family, your friends, and your pet goldfish since the day I was born. Brain Blast? How about I fucking blast your faggot ass brain with a shotgun. I want to fucking candy crush your face through a mother fucking wall. You are the reason why babies cry. Fuck your memes. Fuck you. Fuck. FUCK. FUCK. Try fucking saying that to be in REAL life where you aren't surrounded by a precious username and see what happens, weakling. I have guns. Many guns. Guns that I could take to your head and blow it out right now. You hear me? Good.Downvoted. You're exactly what's wrong with circlejerk. Instead of posting satire, mocking reddit and being clever and original, you continue to post lame phrases and beat to glue anything that was even remotely funny, all under the guise that you want to show what's wrong with reddit. You don't care about reddit. You belong to the system that this subreddit was made to mock. You seek karma. You seek to be a power-user, a well-known name in a sea of perpetual anonymity. The higher your karma-count, the more you get off on it. You are smug and self-satisfying. You are the problem. There should be a "delete" button below your posts. Start clicking them after you post and you'll find that reddit starts to improve.My Grandfather smoked his whole life. I was about 10 years old when my mother said to him, 'If you ever want to see your grandchildren graduate, you have to stop immediately.'. Tears welled up in his eyes when he realized what exactly was at stake. He gave it up immediately. Three years later he died of lung cancer. It was really sad and destroyed me. My mother said to me- 'Don't ever smoke. Please don't put your family through what your Grandfather put us through." I agreed. At 28, I have never touched a cigarette. I must say, I feel a very slight sense of regret for never having done it, because your post gave me cancer anyway.You fucking do that every damn time I try to talk to you about anything even if it's not important you just say K and to be honest it makes me feel rejected and unheard like nothing would be better then that bullshit who the fuck just says k after you tell them something important I just don't understand how you think that's ok and I swear to god you're probably just gonna say k to this but when you do you'll know that you're slowly killing me inside