#until the beginning of over my head

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by the gorgeous and fabulous @cordiallyfuturedwight and @aprylynn for february's roundup:

tagging the usual music favs: @jiminsproof @thvinyl @jimin-gaon @visionsofgideontheninth @spicyclematis @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @monismochi plus @kimtaegis for the amy macdonald of it all 💜 and also you, dear reader. MWAH

#heads up! here comes the director's commentary: #16 Carriages - now listen. i love texas hold 'em as much as the next daddy lessons supremacist #but holy shit. it doesn't hold so much as a candle to this track. #just unbelievably stunning. i'm begging you to give it another chance if you skipped over it the first time #Don't Forget Me - me and kayla and apryl all having ms rogers in this month's list... i think we might be better than everyone else actuall #End Of Beginning - good GOD we couldn't gatekeep djo any longer but it's worth it if only for all the bear tiktok edits. #and thus i have fallen for this track all over again. yes CHEF #Showtime - now if you've known me long enough you'll know i'm an absolute sucker for british indie rock bands #especially if their frontman looks like they might not make it through another winter #so you can imagine catfish has had an inexplicable hold on me. anyway their comeback single is actually pretty good #This Is The Life - fantastic tune. 2007 if you can believe it? #what a time to be alive and at the school disco and you're singing the songs and thinking this is the life and so on and so forth #Loving You Will Be The Death Of Me - tom odell can do no wrong in my eyes (ears?) anyway. lovely lovely new album #Never Need Me - been loving rachel for a while now and this single is brilliant. highly recommended. #plus the video features florence pugh and if that doesn't sweeten the deal then christ i don't know what will #Baby Now That I've Found You - i didn't even realise this was a cover of the foundations until hearing it again recently #because alison krauss just has an incredible way of making them her own and thus it's been on repeat. #Deeper Well - okay so now i'm seeing the country thread through this month's picks. #this is another lovely new one. hearing it on the radio and the fact that they have to censor “i used to wake and bake” is hilarious to me #shoutout kayla again because great minds.. #Stay For Something - CMAT is phenomenal and if you haven't listened to her yet i can't recommend her entire discography enough. #she had her arsecrack out at the brits last night and well. i would die for her #(speaking of the brits. raye... i literally cried for her. go find the recording of her live at the royal albert hall. #-watch it twice and then come back and thank me) #artists-wise - most of these guys are consistently up there. #katie melua is a new feature this time because all my amy macdonald-ing put me back onto nine million bicycles. #used to get that one mixed up with 99 luftballoons but they're really very different. i'm a fool #so tl;dr: fantastic tunes. do listen #tag #receiptify

[candyheartedchy]

“Chy Baby”

#sorry but I’m gonna get emotional rn #so every once in awhile I watch the cameo from Dana and i gets so overcome with joy y’all have no idea #and whenever my anxiety gets bad or my depression starts to kick in watching it is such a mood booster and helps calms me down #like right at the beginning where he starts doing a little song at the beginning I just immediately start smiling #and I still can’t get over how sweet and sincere Dana was #like there’s been so many times im out doing something and get nervous until I replay the pep talk in my head as a reminder #his voice is just a huge comfort for me #and the fact that there’s folks who remembers and still call me ‘chy baby’ is so nice 🥺 #like it may be silly but the cameo is my most treasured thing #it just means so much to me #so yeah I’m just a little emotional rn and had to gush a little #and if you got this far reading this I just want to say I hope you have a lovely day 💕 and thank you for reading my silly emotional post #💬 chy chatter 💬

[acollectionofcuriousreblogs]

So many thoughts about The Amelia Project. Too many thoughts. Too many

#This is what happens when I binge episodes and refuse to share my opinions until I finish for fear of spoilers #I have over 50 episodes worth of commentary bouncing around my head but now idea where to begin #Amelia #the amelia project

[transdib]

the nhs be like

me in march: hi i have moved here from australia, i have been on testosterone since 2018 on a 3-monthly injection and i have a letter from my aussie gp to verify this and that i have been linked in with a psych and endo since then too and i just need a prescription continuation of my treatment. my next shot is due in june and i cant be late

gp: ok :) i have to make a referral to the nearest gender clinic and theyll be in touch and i'll send them the letter from the aussie gp

me: ok thanks

gender clinic a week later: hi we got your referral + letter but we need some more info

me: okay heres some more info

gender clinic: no thats not enough info we need your entire history including your Diagnosis TM from the psych as a letter + recent bloods arent enough. but once we get those we can streamline you through as a review patient so youre not on the waitlist

me after a fuss between me and the aussie gp due to email troubles: ok heres all the documents they have on my file im about a month overdue i need my shot asap

gender gp: thanks we will be in touch asap

*silence for over a month*

me: hey when am i going to be seen to? im nearly 2 months overdue for my t shot

gender clinic: weve had a high amount of referrals and youre on the waitlist so youre just gonna have to wait

me: :}

*another month of silence*

gender clinic: hi so thank you for sending those documents over, since you have already been on hrt since 2018 you dont actually need our services so we're discharging you and we're gonna write a letter to your gp explaining this and that she can prescribe the dose as recommended on our website

me:.....okay well....what do i have to do now?

gender clinic: im gonna write up a letter to send to your gp and they will be in contact with you to arrange an appointment and you can get your hrt easily like that

me: *on the brink of having a mental fucking breakdown cuz of being 3 months overdue for my hrt and all of the hormonal and physical changes that have left me feeling unbearably distressed and anxious and su1cidal and all the other fucking stressors that have come from this* okay......thanks :}

#negative - #life of doge #this summary doesnt even begin to scratch the surface of just how distressing this has been for me #i just cant wrap my head around how you essentially have no control over the letters given #or control over the correspondence btwn the gp and the gender clinic #every time ive asked what i can do #ive just been told to wait for a call #then when i inquire theyre like oh we never got that letter :) #even aus was never this fucking difficult #i really do feel for the clinics and how understaffed they are #and how they get fuck all funding and theyre the ones paying the price #for the stupid gov making stupid decisions and setting the system up this way #but my fucking god. my fucking god. #every person i talk to has their own arbitrary idea of the process #and nothing makes sense and i just want my goddamn hrt #i just want to feel okay again #ive been crying almost daily from so much stress #and i dont even know when im gonna get my t #and it feels like i wont get it until i am actually getting it #cuz who knows what the gp is gonna say now.....fucksake

[maxbegone]

—

#stress and anxiety is so intense right now #all i want to do is lay under a really heavy blanket and cry until my head is pounding #communicating is really tough for me and has only gotten worse over the years #and it's coming to a head once again #and i need to find another job and figure out my life bc i can't survive like this but i just don't know how. and i'm terrified #i don't want to be pigeonholed into or get stuck at a place like where i was for the last five years #i don't know what to do. i'm scared. i need help and guidance but i have no goddamn idea where to begin. #i look at other people and think about how i should have something established and some sort of success but i have zero #it's a lot and i'm really scared.

[girlsonic]

i think amy has adhd because she wants to do every hobby in the world and gets defensive when she’s rejected and speaks in run on sentences when she’s excited

#waves . idk where my adhd begins and autism ends so forgive me for not being more specific it is smth that i am Serious about #but i’m also here to have a good time and say haha i do that #amy has been shown to cook and draw and bake and garden and box and god what ELSE . it goes on #she wants to do it all #and i think it can tie in with a sense of purpose that she kind of freaks out over when it becomes less clear #and making changes is both exciting and easy for her but she is slow to make them until she Isn’t #i’m drawing from what i remember . from the top of my head i’m not trying to make stuff up

[cherrysnax]

need to preface this by saying I looooove Felicia sm but god it’s so frustrating that when she pops up she gets to keep her personality, her depth, her everything, even in like her very few appearances but MJ has to get EVERYTHING WIPED AWAY even in the comics??? but literally the only close to faithful adaptions of her are spectacular, some of the 90s show and PART of the raimi movies and it’s only slivers!!!! And usually if mjs around Gwen doesn’t exist so we never the catalyst to her and peters bond, their shared grief that Peter can’t understand at first <\3

#and tbh Felicia is getting done DIRTY rn #but so is like. everyone rn #aand I hate to compare two bad bitches to each other #but what I liked about mj Felicia and Gwen is how DIFFERENT THEY ARE #i hate how they make post death Gwen into some pure angel as if she didn’t hate superhero’s and woulda leave Peter a verbal lashing #because she didn’t know he was spider-man when she died and that’s the tragedy!!! Gwen was never perfect none of them were #mj. god I can’t even talk about her without getting angry. they’re massacring my girls yall #even outside of their relationships with Peter they were such rich characters… Gwen a lil less but still! #I just want a semi-faithful adaption of spider-man in his college years up until adulthood #let him be a science teacher let mj be a model/actress/drama teacher who despite not being a superhero knows something about living two live #let Felicia be her morally grey self without taking away her depth #let Gwen rest. I’m #tired of them bringing her back and holding her over peters head as if he didn’t finally get to move on. he loved her. he loved her so much #that he respects her memory by not letting the world stop anymore. she’s dead but let her have her anger her flaws. the fact that she was #a bit of a bully in the beginning was interesting!!! I love women <3 #anyway I’m gonna read renew ur vows and parralell lives and maydays run and pretend Peter b Parker is 616 Peter #also also this isn’t to say the Felicia doesn’t get watered down too because she does. they treat her so bad

[junmyeonists]

no song will ever make me feel the way she does btw.

#just a very very personal sort of comfort and like ?? understanding? straight to my core .. so soothing #since the first time i listened and until now … i just don’t know how to articulate what i feel for this song and what it makes me feel #comfort doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface because it’s like . IDK!!!!! #woozi peered deep into my soul and spent years working to understand me and then put that knowledge together to form pinwheel #that’s just what it is! #nearly 5 years of pinwheel calming me n soothing my heart n just. #a good way to put it is that pinwheel finds a way to quiet the noise n worry inside my head bc i feel very understood #pinwheel is like if hearing ‘it’s all gonna be okay’ from anyone ever actually reassured or worked to make me feel better #that’s how i imagine it would feel :] #anyway a love letter from me to pinwheel. a love letter from me to jihoon #will always be so thankful to him for bringing this song to life cause it’s done a lot for me over the years

[setaflow]

I haven't gotten very far in Starfield yet but looking back it's kinda hilarious that I basically went to the character creator and I guess subconsciously decided "I'm gonna make her the exact opposite of my CP2077 character" right down to them having the exact opposite hair color.

#Starfield #I went Cyber Runner; Neo Street Rat - Wanted - Taskmaster for my build so.......yeah #My roommate even called me out saying that I only picked Cyber Runner because it had 'Cyber' in the name which is.....partially true? #Honestly I wanted to play a space rogue/their and that's the best starting build for one #Anyway yeah I'm still deciding on the name but I think it's Ji-Yeon 'Lee' Aster -- Lee being the pseudonym she gives to most everyone #Korean mother German-American father #Her parents both die when she was young so she grew up in Neon scavenging tech equipment to sell for pittance #and eventually grew into a pretty decent hacker who was able to get by on Neon with minor jobs and the occasional corporate freelance gig #When she's 25 she goes in with a few friends on a huge homebrewed hacker job and the whole thing goes to shit. Like absolutely falls apart #In a moment of weakness Lee throws everyone else on her team under the bus and bails-- everyone else gets arrested and thrown in corp priso #So with a big bounty on her head she hops from system to system trying to keep a low profile until she lands the Argos job and plot happens #In terms of comparing her to Riley she's WAY smarter WAY more cynical WAY less athletic and WAY more guiltridden about her life #And while Riley's slower to trust but overall still nice at her core Lee is just a dick. The entire plot is just one big inconvenience #And to her working with Constellation is basically another way for her to hide from her massive bounty #She trusts them but DEFINITELY looks to use them in the beginning as...let's face it basically meat shields #Riley's story is more about learning how to trust people and accept change; #Lee's story is more about the importance of family and learning how to be less selfish #And finally-- Riley has blue hair and Lee has orange-red hair (her hacker alias was 'F1r3br4nd' and she never wanted to change it) #ANYWAY dump time over back to work #Seta Speaks

[itsukicoded]

🩰🫧

#at a time like this i would give myself a terrible haircut and drive myself into the ravine #but my hair is already short and i told myself that id leave my car to my little sister after everything is over….. #not to mention ive gone back to existing among others so there could be real interpersonal consequences to going missing… #….. #but my cat has a home….everything is exhausting and everything is tempting so i continue to lay face up towards that damn unreachable sky #how can everyone continue living without purpose at all? im tired of this life being hazy and unending it’s only 2pm and i feel miserable #for no other reason than the fact that i can still wake up each morning….rather than the continual wish for remedies #i wish i had never been sick to begin with #and i can’t even disappear anymore like i used to but even if i had the ability to pause the world #who’s to say i would ever unpause it again? could i wait the next seventy years alone? and let myself live without the world; then when it’s #all over let the world live without me? how much longer can i pet my own head and coo to myself about the beauty of the future #when it’s already been this long you know? how long have i been lying to myself how much longer will i be lying to myself abt this place #that im starting to believe doesn’t truly exist? that promise i made to myself……how could i have been stupid enough to believe things could #ever be different for a person like me? when will i ever be honest with myself? the way my hand is balled into a fist thinking im holding #onto the ghost of something that never existed…even though i have time in my day to move the worms onto the grass from the sidewalk i wonder #what it might be like to let the brightness of something else take over you until there’s nothing left of me….you know? #personal

[billymayslesbian]

Before Lionblaze could argue, another shape burst through the billowing smoke to stand beside Squirrelflight. His eyes glared; his gray fur was matted together and stuck with bits of burnt leaf and twig. Confused by the smoke and flames, Hollyleaf almost thought she was seeing one of her warrior ancestors, until she recognized Ashfur.

Squirrelflight dropped the branch. “Help me push it into the fire!” she yowled.

Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.

The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in herbelly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.

“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”

“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.

Hollyleaf felt her fur beginning to rise. What did Ashfur mean?

Lionblaze’s golden pelt was bristling, too. “What have you done with my father?” he howled through the flame.

Ashfur looked at him pityingly; his eyes were twin points of fire amid the burning forest. “Why would I waste my time with Brambleclaw?”

The main branch was too solid to catch fire easily, but the leaves on it had shriveled and the twigs were beginning to smoke. Hollyleaf realized that they didn’t have much time before their bridge to safety would be ablaze.

Squirrelflight staggered up to Ashfur. Hollyleaf had never seen her mother so angry. Her fur bristled with fury; she looked like a warrior of TigerClan. Yet it was obvious that the climb to the top of the cliff, followed by her struggle with the branch, had weakened her, and she was exhausted.

“Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop,” she hissed. “Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I’m Brambleclaw’s mate, not yours. You can’t keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be.”

Ashfur’s ears flicked up in surprise. “I have no quarrel with Brambleclaw.”

Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze. “That’s not how it looks to me,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t care less about Brambleclaw,” Ashfur continued. “It’s not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat.”

Faithless? A growl began to build in Hollyleaf ’s throat, but then she stopped and watched the cats on the other side of the blazing branches. Something ominous was taking place in front of her, and even with flame roaring around them she felt a sudden chill. She shrank closer to Lionblaze and Jayfeather, whose head was up, his sightless eyes intent, as if he could see the confrontation between his mother and Ashfur.

“I know you think I’ve never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you’re wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight.” Ashfur’s voice shook with rage. “It always has been.”

Horrified, Hollyleaf took a step back and felt her hind paws begin to slip on the edge of the cliff. Her head spun as lightning stabbed out and thunder drowned all other sounds, even the roaring fire. For a heartbeat she dangled over empty air, and she let out a strangled yowl.

Then she felt firm teeth meet in her scruff; blinking against the smoke, she realized that Lionblaze was hauling her back to safety. But there was no safety: only the hungry flames, and Ashfur blocking the end of the branch with fury in his eyes. Fiery sparks floated down on all three young cats, scorching their fur, and flames licked the underside of the branch; fear flooded afresh through Hollyleaf when she saw that it was already beginning to smolder.

Ashfur has to let us get out! But Hollyleaf couldn’t find any words to plead with him. What was happening here didn’t have anything to do with them, even if they died because of it.

“All this was moons ago.” Squirrelflight sounded puzzled. “Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset.”

“Upset?” Ashfur echoed. “I’m not upset. You have no idea how much pain I’m in. It’s like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood. . . .”

His eyes clouded and his voice took on a wild, distant tone, as if he could see the blood spilling out of him now, sizzling on the burning ground. Terror burst through Hollyleaf and she pressed closer to her brothers. This cat was more dangerous than the storm or the fire, or the fall lurking perilously close to her hind paws.

Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.

“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”

Hollyleaf ’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”

Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”

“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”

“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.

“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”

“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”

The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.

Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked flat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.

Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”

Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?

Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.

“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”

#drug mention #saw one where op was making fun of people for not smoking #pic

[rileyslibrary]

After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.

A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!

———————————————————————

A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.

“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”

You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.

You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.

“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”

“Pardon?” he asks.

“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”

The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.

“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”

“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”

“Where am I?” You ask.

“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”

Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.

“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”

“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”

“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”

“Several.” He nods.

“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”

“It’s your job, love.” He replies.

“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”

“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”

“I was really worr—”

“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”

“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.

“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”

“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”

“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”

“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”

“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”

“Can he?”

“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”

“Is he that good?” He asks.

“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”

“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”

“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.

The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.

“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”

“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”

“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”

“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”

“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”

“Even then.” You confirm.

“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”

“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”

“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”

“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”

“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”

“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”

“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”

“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.

“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.

“What did he lie about?”

“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”

“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”

“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”

“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.

“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”

“I do,” he confirms.

“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”

“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”

“How is she?” You ask.

“Perfect.” He states.

“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”

“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.

“Do you love her?” You ask.

“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x female reader #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #simon riley #cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fluff

[rowarn]

afab!reader, no prns, praise, edging, wet&messy, könig using ur clit as a fidget toy <3

könig, a trained lethal soldier, who suffers from anxiety. you would never know if you didn't know what you were looking for.

his biggest tell, for you, is the way he fidgets. with you.

you're like his own personal little fidget toy. his hands are always on you, kneading and squeezing your skin. most times you don't mind, you rather like having him touching you — your thighs, your waist, your butt, wherever he can get his hands honestly.

but sometimes...his hands wander. it's mindless, truly.

his eyes fixated on the tv playing some random show he decided he wanted to watch. but you couldn't pay attention, not when one big hand was shoved up your shirt groping your breasts and the other was haphazardly stuffed into your sleep shorts and under your panties.

he's toying with you so mindlessly, callused fingers sliding over your clit that has grown increasingly slippery with how wet you've become. occasionally he dips down to prod at your slick entrance.

his movements have no rhyme or reason. he's not even moving very fast. just sloppy back and forth flicks and occasionally he simply taps his fingers against the little bud that has grown so sensitive from his playing. sometimes, when something interesting happens on tv, he stops completely until the desire the fidget returns to him.

you're sitting with your back against his chest, situated between his spread legs sprawled cozily on the couch. he can't see the heated, dazed look on your face from the come-and-go pleasure he inadvertently gives you. he's edging you without even realizing it, full attention still focused on the damn tv. he isn't even hard.

that thought alone is enough to make you clench around nothing. he's really just playing with you like a little toy and that thought is so hot to you. it makes you cheeks burn in embarrassment as you continue to leak into your panties.

if you listen close you can hear with wet clicking noise that comes with his movements. your eyes roll back in your head as that sound alone has your back arching but you quickly settle yourself down, not wanting to tear his attention from the tv — he so rarely had time to settle down and just enjoy tv, you didn't want to disturb him.

the episode he's watching ends and you cast a hopeful glance up at him but he's waiting for the next episode to start and it makes you whine against your own wishes. but your clit is so hard and twitchy from being edged that it's actually hurting and you're so wet now that your panties are uncomfortably sticky.

it's your whine that gets his attention, pretty blue eyes flicking down to your face where he finally sees the desperate way you're looking at him, teary eyes and swollen lips from biting them to keep quiet. you can see in his eyes when he registers how soaked you've gotten his fingers and he has the audacity to look sheepish.

"ah, my sweet..." he whispers, ears tinged pink, "i-i'm sorry, i did not realize..."

he moves to pull his hand out of your panties and you whine again, grabbing his wrist with both hands to stuff him back down. your nails bite into his skin and he stops trying to pull away, instead pushing his hand back down and it's then that he fully resisters how wet you are.

"don't stop, please...i-i've been so close..." you pitifully beg and he takes pity on you. how precious of you, he thinks.

"i'm sorry, my love," he coos, fingers starting to work once again — properly this time with quick little circles on your clit, "i'll make you cum for being so good for me."

you can't even formulate words, instead nodding and spreading your legs even further apart, your feet on either side of his legs. he hums softly in your ear, chin hooked over your shoulder as he watches his hand move under the fabric of your shorts.

he spreads your sticky folds apart and begins to swirl messily around your clit, occasionally lightly tapping against the bud just to watch the cute way your thighs twitch at the feeling. you reach back and clutch his t-shirt in your fists to ground you. his cock throbs, churning up quickly, at the loud, wet noise of him playing with your cunt.

it doesn't take long at all before your stiffening against him and twitching in his lap as you cum with a cute little gasp of his name. he moans softly in your ear as he feels your clit throb under the pads of his fingers. you let out the loveliest moans that has his cock hardening fully against his thigh.

when you slacken against his body, aftershocks making you twitch periodically as you pant, he's tempted to stop but the fact you had sat there so sweetly and let him practically torture you while he watched his show made him want to make it up to you.

he sees the excitement in your eyes when his fingers dip lower and begin to press into you and he can't believe just how sweet you are. your so sticky and wet with the amount of cum he worked out of you with such ease.

"let me really make it up to you, my little one..."

#könig smut #konig smut #könig x reader #konig x reader #cod smut #cod x reader #könig #konig

[a-b-riddle]

Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️

It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.

You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.

But the past two returns home have been… different.

Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.

“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.

After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.

He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?

So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.

The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.

Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.

He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.

“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.

“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.

You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.

Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.

“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.

“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”

“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”

For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”

“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.

“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”

“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.

None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.

“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.

Four times the love.

But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.

John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.

Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.

Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.

And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.

Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.

None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.

You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.

So you did the only thing you could.

You hung up.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst #grovel #we love a good grovel don't we girls

[spekktors]

lengthy slow burn readers and writers I've gotta know: what even happens in the story after a slow burn goes over a certain length

#babbling #anything from 50-150k is an amount that i think counts as slow burn without going so long I'd begin to wonder what's going on in there #when i say a certain length im talkin like 200k+ #I am curious though. the slow burn* story I'm writing rn is currently about 20k and a little under halfway done #and i feel like I'm being quite indulgent with it too since it's just personal writing** I'll probably never share with anyone #i spent 1000 words describing making soup and elaborating on the history of kitchenware #but when it's past the 200k mark what's happening? #is it B-plots? is it character study interludes? is it lovingly developing the platonic relationships as well as the romantic ones? #or is it romance-foreward and the burn is Genuinely That Slow #if that's the case power to you. but I alas don't have the patience #footnotes: #*i dont know if it legally counts as a slow burn if you have gay sex in the second chapter #the developing relationship and admitting their romantic feelings to themselves and getting together part is slow tho #**it's the elaborate backstory of two characters that exist in my dnd homebrew world #that my players won't meet until over the halfway point in the campaign #if at all depending on their choices #but they exist in the world as characters who are relevant to a significant NPCs backstory #and i couldn't get them out of my head. so here i am

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

#story time