#whosxafraid

[tabbyrp]

@whosxafraid

“And in the bloodlit dark behind his eyes, silver phosphenes boiled in from the edge of space, hypnagogic images jerking past like a film compiled of random frames. Symbols, figures, faces, a blurred, fragmented mandala of visual information.” ― William Gibson, Neuromancer

#whosxafraid #count zero (cyberpunk au) #/a very bleated happy birthday/

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar: Day 28 @whosxafraid​

“O’RIAN! Report to the Captain’s office immediately.” The Voice of God crackles across the sickening heat. “Oh, shit, dude,” House says from his perfect position of hiding in plain sight, standing beside the other SEAL. “You forgot to polish the dolphins. I even reminded you.” Luka mutters something about House’s mother mating with dolphins behind a dumpster and straightens. His shirt sticks to his back with sweat and his face is soured by the too-bright sun causing him to squint, the too-dry air clinging to him like saran-wrap made of dust. He grabs his shovel and slings it across his shoulders, then quick-jogs over to the Qwonset that acts as administration. Salutes the man once he’s crossed over into the Captain’s office. His mind races over every conceivable scenario he can think of, enumerating in his mind what possible sin he’s committed. “At ease. We just received TDY orders for you. You’ve got fifteen minutes to shower, shit, and shave before you and your seabag are sitting on the bird that just landed.” “...Sir?” “I know you didn’t just ask me questions, son. Get going.” Hurry up and wait is a game Luka knows well and the wait takes the shape of a lift from Camp to NAMRU-3, then a longer flight to NAVSTA Rota. It isn’t until he’s herded off a chauffeured civilian car that it all comes across as a conspiracy, a second small travel bag added to his seabag, and a manilla envelope gets shoved in his hands, the details of his TDY. One that grants him 48 hours of leave from his post. Signed by the Rear-Admiral, and a note on white unlined paper. The heavy scrawl already familiar if the greeting didn’t give it away. ~ UF, you’re my gift. Make the best of it but I swear to Christ if she isn’t happy when she goes home, I’m sending you back to yours in a box. Seriously though, I had to ask for a favour, something I never do. Just make sure the package in the included bag gets under her tree or by her coffee cup, and play it stupid if she asks about Santa. Don’t think that’ll be hard.

And Merry Christmas, frognuts. R.~ It’s an entire villa that was rented out, decorated beautifully and tastefully in a style that isn’t the happy chaos of his childhood, or the much more manic style he’s seen back in New York. But when he walks in and sets his bag down? She’s standing there, staring at the pool, or the cliff beyond where the ocean is kissing the shore with white capped waves. She jumps out of her skin, clearly not expecting anyone, before she turns. The way she holds her wine glass, it might as well have been a knife. A second ticks by, followed too closely by another as she fixes him with those wide Disney princess eyes. “Lulu?!” A single word drawn out in a throaty gasp. She sets the glass down carefully, its sherry or wine completely forgotten, and before he can even answer, she’s running. Launching herself at him. “LULU!” Arms all but choke him. Legs coil around his hips with the intention of blocking blood flow, and her lips press against his neck. Maybe Christmas is made for miracles, but Riley’s still a dick.

#whosxafraid #Wave over Wave|Seal Luka O'Rian #Sea over Bow|Luka and Beth #Letters From Home|Travelling Soldier AU #Ports of Call|Rota Spain #Merry Christmas 2022

[therealgamble]

@whosxafraid

#merry christmas #collage #whosxafraid

[morgansmornings]

green, blue, teal, scarlet, maroon, thing-i-cant-say, periwinkle, mauve, blush, indigo, fuchsia, lavender, razzmatazz, safron, timberwolf, fallow, plum, tangerine, viridian, chartreuse, burgundy.

This Meme: Accepting @whosxafraid

You are in fact one of my closest friends. Even if we don't talk everyday I can look back on all the good times we've had. I know life for you is chaotic, but you are stuck with me... So there you have it. You are always welcome here and know that I would also share my food with you.

#Please Leave a Message | Answered Ask #Answers from the Mun #whosxafraid #Danke Luka!

[kit-just-kit]

limerence

Limerence is a state of infatuation or obsession with another person that involves an all-consuming passion and intrusive thoughts

Word association

*Limerence is a state of infatuation or obsession with another person that involves an all-consuming passion and intrusive thoughts*

She'd been there, done that. And it had left her miserable. Once upon a time, he'd been all she could think about, all she could talk about too. The idea of him and herself, together, was so addictive that for that month before they'd married, she'd been a woman possessed.

Yet it was all a lie, on his part. Seb had never loved her. In fact, it was clear now he'd actually detested her. But she never saw it, not until it was far too late and she was in too deep.

At least the short, sharp shock of betrayal made her surface in record time.

Pulling from her thoughts she gave a one word answer, filled with regret.

"Dangerous".

#whosxafraid #thanks for sending lovely!

[tarnishedhalo]

#Truuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuth #Tumblr being a bitch won't let me tag #whosxafraid #therealgamble

[goodlawman]

Meme: How Ruined Are You?

ruined by fear

you live on the edge of your seat, but it is not a good thing. youre constantly looking over your shoulder, unsure of what will hurt you next. you have been hurt so much, but you refuse to adapt to your pain. instead, you avoid what you cannot control. you are so afraid of making a mistake, of being brought closer to your doom. but, despite this, you cannot articulate what you fear. you are just afraid. only afraid. and you will be afraid until you are brought to what you fear.

Tagged by @whosxafraid

#r;; tagged

[ivakir]

@whosxafraid​ asked: 13. Is there one trope you can’t stand? ; meme for roleplay muns

A girl with cool hobbies / career meets some guy who changes her for the "better" side. From a cool warrior she becomes a "caring mother with 100 children", she gives up her career to raise her children, meanwhile the second parent’s life doesn’t change at all.

   Words cannot describe how much I hate this trope. It's my personal nightmare that wakes me up at night.

   Yeah, the trope is very realistic, that is, we can see these examples in society. Though I will not say anything about the choice (if it really was a choice) of real women. I will only talk about fiction.

    I would not have been so angry so much if I had seen the same trope played in reverse. That is, a man with a career and interests finds a very average girl with no interests and a very average appearance. Under her influence he decides to quit his career and devote himself entirely to domestic life. Even as I write this, I realize in retrospect that this thought now seems to be on the verge of fantasy.

    I mean, I don't know... I usually see all these cool female characters choosing ordinary guys (well, it's clear that this was done to make it easier for the male audience associate with them) as boyfriends, partners, husbands, who don’t even have goals in life or at least some interesting hobby, who are “well, he just joked funny” or “well, he’s just brave” - in general, it makes me ask "Why?". I get the impression that the creators were just lazy, they didn't want to think much and went with "Well let's give her an average dude with nothing and turn her into a mother, because this is what women do, right?".

    With regard to roleplaying, I quite often see here the trope "mother is the head of the family". Very often I see this with werewolf characters or with characters associated with the mafia. On the one hand, I would say that this is not bad, but on the other hand, it still seems to me that either the role player also sees motherhood as the only choice for their female character, or it's just a projection, a dream of a big friendly family they don't have in reality and dreams of having some sort of control of their family and life. Which is not bad. Don't read it as if I am trying to psychoanalyze here. However, such an interpretation doesn't make me thrilled either. I guess, it’s just a matter of taste. 

     In my experience, I had only one time when Ivakir had a family with children, but I felt that what was happening was very wrong. At the moment, I would not play any tropes associated with children or "finding a partner and settling down".

#ooc #whosxafraid

[quothesquills]

She is not his pet. She is free to come and go as she pleases. And perhaps sometimes he wonders why she comes back at all. But for the times she does? Perhaps an old man feels bad for her having no proper place to nest.

So he has had something made for her. Something special, and something unique. And no he does not care that the raven doesn’t really need it, nor really need the raven sized pool installed behind it.

He thought she should have it therefore she did. And never mind the purposefully shiny silver bow and carefully woven miniature wreath hung over the door. She can do with them as she pleases.

If any of the animal crackers like herself celebrated holidays, then those would be obscure, regional, and related to their totems and auspices and tribes, or closer to what their human kin {sometimes charges, sometimes victims} reveled in. Same with the Dream Kin, the Caern Raiders, even the spooks. She’s heard tell leeches do it to, but of all the things Quothe has mixed with, she only ever had befriended one fangy-fangy-bitey-bitey. And it had been so long ago the details are a little fuzzy beyond the reminiscence of fraying, mouldering black robes and a Romanian accent.

Luka had always been different though, hadn’t he?

And so when the winter solstice rolls around and after they’ve ~the Corax as a species~ have celebrated the rebirth of Helios, she finds the air cold and small, hollow bones desirous of warmth and light. She’s been too far gone from her seemingly eternal Siberian nights, and the frigid, lethal temperatures that clung to it.

She bypasses doors and windows and the moral fortitude to knock first and be invited in by slipping through a thinning of the Veil, leaving the spirit realm of the umbra for the more hospitable comfort of his apartment. Not that she particularly likes this one, it always seems to carry a little of the blood and dirt and foreignness of that caern raider he so loves to have torture him, which would make her nose wrinkle if beaks were capable of such things. He’s not here. She can feel that. And if experience is any teacher, she has time to change out of her feathers and into something a little more suitably kinky with which to run a hot bath for his aching bones, full of alchemical balms to soothe tired muscle.

Looking from the outside, some people would call her a devilish thorn in his side for all that she jabs and pokes at his sorest places, but that’s only to remind him of his strength. Truth is, she knows his weaknesses and rather than exploiting them, she tries to soothe them in whatever ways she can within the structure of the rules, even if that means sharing him with whatever two-legs catches his fancy out of loneliness.

But even Quothe can admit to being taken aback when he surprises her. The Birdhouse is really quite spectacular, as it is massive and she wonders where he’s been building it, and how long it’s taken. Curiosity drives her and she hops from chair to shelf to perch, examining it while her head tilts this way and that. The minaret isn’t exactly that, and it looks nothing like the homes from her youth but then again, most people didn’t exactly have more than some twigs and dirt when they were young. Eventually, the thing is approached. A series of little jumps closer and closer to the doorway. 

Then she disappears inside and is once again delighted. There’s a mess of twigs, old bits of tee-shirts that still smell like him, soft and cotton. So she sets about a little house keeping. Maneuvers every last speck of material, regardless of origin, into a new nest. One big enough to settle herself in whole and happy.  She steals the ribbon from the outside and uses that as the final touch before she settles into the safety and comfort of it, nuzzling those bits that are most a part of him. She knows the new birdbath is there too, but it can wait. For now she will close her eyes. Because the best part of the solstice gift…is being able to dream about what might have been.

#whosxafraid #So Miserable Without You It's like having you here|Luka #The Dream of A Thousand Years|Cathal and Quothe #Tra La La La La verse #submission

[ronmanmob]

Word meme : rain

Words for a Headcanon/Drabble

‘--Bells.’

The word fell from Ron’s lips before he’d given it leave to; a true to life, in the moment recount of what he could hear along with the pitter patter of a summer rain falling outside the pub’s open kitchen window. It wasn’t quite church bells - nothing crashing, nothing harsh. And it wasn’t quite the sound of wind chimes either - soft and ringing. He couldn’t quite place it; what his mind was translating the sound of certain specific raindrops hitting the cobbles outside in the work yard into. A soft mixture of both while being neither at once; a hotchpotch of sensation that he struggled to describe in words because to others, to anyone else passing by, or settled by a window watching the weather like he was, there were no bells in the raindrops. No echoes of chimes as droplet met stone. 

Ron knew that. And for once - because this trick of his noggin was benign and gentle, given what it let him perceive, let him experience in this peaceful moment - it was ok by him.

#whosxafraid #👓Headcanon #//fankoo for the question lovely <3 #tw: mental illness #cw: mental illness

[bigdlittleibignlittleozzo-moved]

@whosxafraid

He was being followed. It had taken Tony a few days to notice, but he was being followed. Whoever it was, they were good, very good, and he wasn’t sure he would’ve noticed them, except it almost seemed like they wanted to get caught. It was interesting, made him curious.

He waited in a dark alley, because all good movie confrontations took place in dark alleys, wanting to confront the person following him, to know why he, of all people, was a target. He was boring, for a vampire.

Someone entered the mouth of the alley and Tony braced himself for a fight. If whoever was following him had decided he was worth attacking, he needed to be ready for that. He wasn’t as strong as most of the other creatures of the night, so he had to be on his toes constantly, ready to run if he couldn’t defend himself.

“You’ve been following me,” he called out, “I’d like to know why? Someone looking for me?”

#whosxafraid #v. Like Dracula only cooler

[tabbyrp]

Day 12: Samhain

“Samhain was considered to be a moment when the veil between this world and the otherworld was at its thinnest. Old gods had to be placated with gifts and sacrifice, and the trickery of fairies was an even greater risk than usual. This was a liminal moment in the calendar, a time between two worlds, between two phases of the year, when worshippers were about to cross a boundary but hadn’t yet done so. Samhain was a way of marking that ambiguous moment when you didn’t know who you were about to become, or what the future would hold. It was a celebration of limbo.” ― Katherine May, Wintering: The power of rest and retreat in difficult times

#whosxafraid #putting the ooooo in spooktober

[therealgamble]

🎃 toffee

#meme reply #whosxafraid #thanks!

[tarnishedhalo]

Me, Raylan, and Luka - and don't you dare try to get out of answering on some technicality.

Choices || Accepting {{@goodlawman and @whosxafraid for reasons}}

"Fuckin' easy, man. Marry you, cause you're already my work wife, an' I can trust you not to stab me in the fuckin' back soon as opportunity presents itself. Fuck Givens because... goddamn, have you seen him on the draw? He's fast like a freak. So I mean, I'd rather know where his hands are at all time." A pause because the last is obvious then. "...And if you ever tell him this, I'll bury you. But I'd try and keep up with O'Rian when it comes to drinking. Then you stand to inherit my share of the trust fund because motherfucker's got... he's built different and not because he's a giant."

Another pause. "Your turn. Street, Hondo, Sanchez."

#therealgamble #McG|Brian Gamble #Whiskey Rebellion|Gamble and Riley #Thin Blue Lines|SWAT Au #California Screaming

[goodlawman]

Continued from [x] @whosxafraid​

“Well that was the point.” Raylan hated seeing him in this condition. He remembered a long time ago when Luka would arrive home with injuries not quite as bad but still trying to hide them from the child he’d taken in like the vampire blood mixed in with the human didn’t lead to him picking it up anyway. That was their thing, Raylan tried to be less of a pain in the ass than he was with most and they both ignored injuries that no mere mortal could heal from but Luka would by the next sunrise. Most of the time. 

He left the light off as he crossed the room towards the bathroom to let Luka maintain the illusion that he wasn’t all that banged up but the heavy scent of blood and alcohol in the room said otherwise. It didn’t matter how long he’d been alive or how ironclad he’d worked his control to be, that scent laying so thick whispered seductively to him in addition to the violence he’d stumbled over the end of. Good thing he’d fed a few days previous.

The first aid kit wasn’t in the last place he remembered it being or the second but he finally managed to find it while banging around the cupboards, grabbing a candle and a bottle of whiskey while he was at it. Instead of turning on the lights the candle placed on a nearby table served to provide enough glow to work with. 

Raylan threw his suit jacket over the arm of the chair and settled down on the couch beside Luka. Sleeves of his shirt rolled up, ring removed and left on the table beside the candle, bottle cap twisted off and a healthy gulp of good whiskey taken. He opened the first aid kit and then, for the first time that night, looked his adoptive father in the eye. “Is there anything I need to set that you haven’t?” he asked. 

#v;; family matters #whosxafraid

[storieswrittcnarch]

"writing a windigo is racist" if we go by that logic then that means anyone that's ever written anything containing a vampire is now racist against eastern europeans because the vampire lore originated there and they believed vamps 2 b evil undead beings that fed on the living. which also means anyone that ever includes a spirit/monster/other worldly being of any kind is racist against whatever race of people the lore originated with. ur idiocy amazes and seems 2 know no bounds anon.

you know what? you’re absolutely right. guess i’m racist cause i write vampires, werewolves, all kinds of monsters too. i’m just all kinds of problematic :(

#KJAJKSJKSJS #whosxafraid