#im willing to do comms for them too!

[python333]

im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.

You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”

“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”

The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—” 

You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of. 

You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you. 

“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece. 

You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”

“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?” 

“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.

You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder. 

“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”

“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up. 

“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.” 

“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder. 

“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.” 

You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.

You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up. 

You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.

Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.

You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.” 

“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.

The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.

The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about. 

It was their stupid accents you hated. 

Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.

They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy? 

You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up. 

“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.” 

You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?

“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?” 

“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.

A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?” 

“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.” 

“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return. 

“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.” 

“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”

“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.” 

You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.

You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers. 

They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”

Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open. 

“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price. 

“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap. 

“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.

Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk. 

“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?” 

You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well. 

“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.” 

“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?” 

“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.” 

“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.” 

“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.” 

“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact. 

“Mhm,” Ghost hums. 

“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.” 

“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle. 

As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].” 

You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?” 

“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.” 

“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No it’s—” 

“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.” 

“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic. 

“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought. 

“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you. 

“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.” 

“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”

“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”

“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.” 

“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.” 

“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.” 

“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort. 

“Muppet?” 

“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.” 

“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.” 

“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?” 

“Oh, I’ll have you all know—” 

“Ghost, don’t start—” 

You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.

#here we go again #cod #cod hcs #hcs #captain john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #kyle gaz garrick #platonic taskforce141 #task force 141 x reader #platonic task force 141 #platonic #platonic task force 141 x reader #platonic cod #price #soap #ghost #gaz #tf141 #its currently 1:28 as im tagging this #am #i just watched the thing for the first time like #two hours ago #lowkey terrified but we still up #it was so gross btw #still recommend watching it tho!! #anyway

[forsworned]

ok, but hear me out. Poly!tf141 on undercover mission. Reader is dressed up, think very club type attire or so. Paired think of the audio "favorite" by Isabel Larosa 👀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋfavorite ft. poly!tf141ˎˊ˗

꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ okokokokokokokok i finally finished anon im sorry it took me so long, i was trying to make sure it made as much sense as possible but its a fucknnn wrapppppp , i hope u like it ;-; reblogs & comments are appreciated!!

꒰warning(s) heavily suggested polyship, alcohol abuse, violence, titty bar???꒱

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋrequests are openˎˊ˗

Pulsating rhythms of the club thudded against their tightened sternums as they impatiently waited for her appearance. On one side, Kyle and Price sat on hightops, sipping slowly at their top shelf whiskey's. Price sucked his teeth at that. Damn them all to hell for their overpriced liquor.

Kyle chuckled from behind the rim of his glass at his Captain's displeasure.

"Fuckin' tossers. All o'em." Price's mood was quite piqued already. This mission for sure was going to get him diagnosed with hypertension.

"Relax, boss. She can handle it." Kyle's voice is smoother than the fine, fiery amber liquid they were downing. Price could admit that it was damn good whiskey.

"Not talkin' 'bout the duck." He retorted, finishing his glass and pushing it away from him. He teased the end of his stache between his fingers.

Kyle simpered at him. "Oh yeah? 'Suppose y'talkin' 'bout the whiskey then."

Price's icy blues peered up at his Sergeant's honey gaze, a half smirk curled up on his lips now.

"Damn good whiskey."

Kyle and Price both chuckled at that. Clearly they were both on edge and neither of them were willing to admit to that. It wasn't easy knowing that she was compromising all of herself for the sake of a mission while they sat their twiddling their thumbs like a bunch of sods.

"'re y'two gonna keep actin' like a pair of plonkers, or y'gonna do wha' y'were assigned to do 'n' keep watch?" Simon's rasping voice was heard over the comms.

Johnny snickered from his seat at the bar." Ahh, give 'em some slack, L.t.. It ain't easy watchin' oor wifie shake 'er ass in fron' of a bunch of--"

"I can hear you, y'know?" Her voice like a dream (the prettiest girl they've ever seeennn), pulling them out of their squabbling.

"There she is." Johnny's murmured, glancing over at her figure appearing between throngs of men. The bright strobe lights casting shadows over her form, highlighting her curves. Every stride more enchanting than the next as she bounced through the crowd so effortlessly. She balanced two whiskey glasses and a bottle of Glenfiddich on a slim black tray as she approached her two teammates.

Did their eyes deceive them, or was she really wearing that?

"On the house, boys." Her tone is ribbing, playful with a hint of a gentle chide. The curve of her red painted lips, and the feline-like eyeliner that cascaded over her tightlined eyes made her that much alluring. Their eyes traveled down her frame, carefully analyzing the black bodycon dress that fit her like a second skin.

The outfit was undeniably slutty. Black strings wrapping around her chest and over her shoulders. The neckline was low, revealing her cleavage while the length of the skirt just barely brushed against her ass. Their eyes stopping at the thigh-high black, latex boots she was wearing.

How long had she been hiding these outfits from them, they didn't know. And knowing her, she would never tell.

"On th' house, you say?" Kyle's gaze heavy on her. "Says who?"

She tilted her head to the side with an impish grin. "Says me."

Price's mouth seemed to have been full of cotton because he couldn't even manage a word. That satisfied her. "Enjoy, boys."

She sauntered off to the next set of patrons, and Price had to readjust himself for a moment as he shook his head with an incredulous look.

"Trousers gettin' too tight?" Simon jested over the comms. That earned a few chuckles.

"Where'd she get tha' lil thing anyways?" Price attempted to derail Simon's taunting.

Johnny's eyes never left her form from the moment she stepped out on the floor. She was working her magic with all the patrons, speaking the native language while he listened in on how it rolled off her tongue like it was her own as their haughty eyes undressed her—it was enough to make his skin crawl. "No idea, but 's makin' me kinda jealous."

"Ditto." Kyle shook his head as he poured his Captain and himself another drink.

"Le's get this shit over with." Price picked up his glass, clinking it against Kyle's before they both downed it with ease.

And boy was it not fun for any of them. Johnny's job really had to be the comedic relief for the night because the way that their collective blood pressure was raising right now was enough to send them into cardiac arrest.

Simon sat in the control room with his gun in his holster, knife in his left hand as he observed every individual body in the room. The mangled body to his left, slumped on the floor for the night as he flitted through multiple CCTV to track her movements and get an idea on the deal that was about to happen.

The mission? It involved an international weapons deal between the Mexican cartel and an arms manufacturer from Russia. They had to infiltrate the club that the cartel owned and [name]--very, very much to their dismay--was the bait.

Kyle, to no one's surprise, was the first one to break the silence.

"The boys are gettin' restless." Kyle eyed the crowd that seemed to be growing by the minute as more and more people came in for some late night fun. The cartel member's body language indicated that they were getting restless.

Price was already on edge. His fingers were gripping the Mexican Pine wood of the hightop table. Every second that went by felt like an eternity as he watched her shake her hips up against one of the cartel members and laughed as a bottle of vodka was passed around between them.

Simon grunted, watching more individuals come in. "Gonna be a bloodbath."

Johnny stayed quiet, but his brows were furrowed with worry. His baby blues watched her as she took a shot with one of the cartel members in an attempt to be flirty while he pressed a hand against the small of her back. Johnny couldn't hide the way his face contorted in disgust.

"Quit bouncin' y'leg, Johnny." Simon warned. In an instant, Johnny's actions are halted like a guard dog on command. He sucked his teeth.

Price's jaw ticked when he laid his icy glare on her taking another shot and laughed coquettishly while the cartel member's hand went up her skirt. "For Christ's sake."

Kyle gave his Captain a sympathetic grin. It was hard being the only one under control.

"Le's have another." He sighed, pouring them both another drink in a weary attempt to calm their nerves. Well, really Price's nerves.

As the night drew on, the club gained more traction. Her movements becoming more risqué as she allowed the men to grope her and squeeze her.

"Gonna lose my bloody shite here." Price muttered, the way they tried to get under her skirt as she laughed it off, her back pressed up against one of their bodies. She was good. He had to give her that much.

Simon turned his attention away from the screen, taking notice of the slight beads of sweat dripping down Price's temples.

He was sweating now too. To be so comfortable with these bastards as she played them like a fiddle. Price's heart was thudding in his ears. He couldn't breathe.

"Gimme an update on somethin', anythin', Simon." Price was practically pleading at this point. A small edge to his voice as he spoke with neediness, referring to the deal that was suppose to be made tonight.

Simon let out an exasperated huff as he kept his eyes on the group, laughing and sharing drinks.

"Still nothin' yet." Simon grunted, scrolling through several camera angles. A cigarette was pinched between his lips, and he pulled from it as he turned to look over at Price. It had been two hours of Price stewing in his seat with nothing to show for.

"She sure as hell ain't making it easy..." Price mumbled, running a hand over the back of his neck.

Kyle was observing the situation with a smirk. "Sure as hell not..." His mouth kicked up at the corner. She was being very provocative with them, trying to get them off their game.

"She's doin' a'ight for herself, ain't she, boss?" Kyle asked while Price remained stilled, almost intentionally provoking him a bit, which in its own respect was quite cruel to do but he couldn't help himself. The Captain was seething in silence, a small twitch on his mouth being the only indication that he had heard what his Sergeant had said.

Simon leaned his cheek against the cold wall of the control room, watching her play the men like a puppet master. Her words and touches were calculated.

He took another drag from his cigarette, trying to keep his nerves calm as Price felt like he was wasting away on his seat. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips and he silently thanked the cartel for installing such HD quality cameras so that he could at least savor this moment.

Three hours in, and there was no sign of the deal being made. Simon wondered if they all wasted their time being her back up.

"She might a'well be dancin' in a stripper's club," Price grunted, his back still stiff as he remained seated.

Simon bit back a laugh. "T’be fair, it is a titty club."

"Shut the 'ell up, Simon." Price turned over as his head pounded in tandem with his heartbeat. His jaw was clenched tight, blood boiling in his veins. "That does not change the fact that she is bein' taken advantage of."

"Right..." Simon muttered, taking another puff from his cigarette with a side-eyed smirk.

"Jus' wait until we have a debrief for this mission, you cocky bastard." Price grunted. It was an empty threat. Like the way a father would reprimand his naughty kids.

Kyle and Johnny could be heard chuckling over the comms and that seemed to alleviate the tense mood once again.

It wasn't until Simon noticed the shift in body language that sent his senses into overdrive. An instinct that he never ignored as he carefully analyzed one of the members who was leaning against the bar. He turned to the barman, ordered a round of drinks for him and his friends. In the distance, he could see [name's] lithe body swaying gracefully in and around the throngs of men. A slow, confident sway. His attention immediately shifted to the bar, catching glimpses of the body language between the cartel members and another girl they could barely keep their mouths off of.

She looked a lot like their [name]. The same build, the same hair and a similar fit. It made his stomach turn a bit.

This was the part of the mission he hated. It was when things started to get real—when there were a lot more moving pieces and when a slight error could cost her, them and the mission.

One of the members was speaking to the girl, he couldn't hear what his words were but he could read his body language clearly. He was starting to connect the dots when the girl was passed a keycard that was gently pushed into her back pocket.

"We've got movement." Simon warned.

"Where?"

Price and Simon could practically hear one another's voices on the edge of breaking.

"One o'em is passin' a keycard to woman at the bar. Keep watch." Simon commanded.

Kyle and Johnny stayed silent. But their focus remained locked on the pair, keeping eyes on her as the men around her continued to paw at her.

The barman finished pouring the drinks, and then a few other people passed by the cartel member before he leaned in to whisper her location. Simon took note.

The man and the girl began to walk away from the bar, heading towards a back door. Her body reacted defensively for a fleeting moment, recoiling ever so slightly to the unwanted touch. The door was out of the camera's range. Only the door handle could be seen. The man continued to drag her towards it, his grip tightening as he did. Simon got even more of an uneasy feeling as they drew closer.

Simon's eyes darted to another screen where a meeting was starting to take place and [name] had somehow managed to slip past the members. She was currently situated on the other side of the meeting doors, tucked away in a corner that kept her out of sight from them but gave him a clear view of her movement.

Simon noticed that there was two guards slumped over in the rooms leading to where [name] now was. "[name], do not engage. Do you copy?"

"Copy." Her voice crackled over the comms.

Simon couldn't help but think when the hell she got there with her weapon ready in hand, still in her same outfit from earlier. There wasn't much time to think about how or when she had done that.

"When did y'leave?" Kyle inquired, on behalf of them. A smirk could be heard in her voice.

"When no one was lookin', silly."

Johnny's and Price's jaw ticked in amusement at that.

"Slippery minx." Price muttered. "Weren't you s'pposed t'keep an eye 'er, Johnny?"

"I was." Johnny replied confidently. It was evident that he allowed her to do her own thing. It sure as hell beat gawking at her while other men got handsy with her assets.

Simon fixated on back on the pair from earlier, as they moved through multiple rooms, and suddenly she was thrown into the bathroom, landing on the tiles with a cry.

"Fuckin' military slut. You think I don't know who you are?" The cartel member sneered.

The girl recoiled and shook her head not able to find any words. "¡…n-no, señor! ¡N-no soy un chivato!"* She cried out.

(...n-no, mister! I am not a spy!)*

"Bloody hell, they've got the got the wrong lass." Simon grumbled over the comms realizing that there positions were somewhat compromised. It was natural for cartel members to be weary and hypervigilant about moles, but he had to maintain control over the situation.

The man didn't seem to be buying it as he fished out his gun from his holster. Simon could hear the sound of the man's voice rising over him manhandling the girl through the CCTV's audio system.

"I don't know what you are thinking you little whore, but you shouldn't have come to my club if you didn't want to get used! Don't come crying to me when these bastards finish with you!" The man yelled. His voice was so laced with arrogance and pride that Simon was tempted to get off the comms and put a bullet through his head.

By now it was obvious that the man thought she was [name]. The girl cowered before him in fear, not daring to move as she kept repeating that she wasn't a spy. But his eyes were filled with nothing but rage. It seemed to be the end of the line for her.

Simon's heart was in his throat as he watched the man aim his gun at her chest. He held the trigger down before another man walked in with two more guards.

He missed. He missed!

The girl's chest rose with relief, still trembling in fear.

"¡Maldito imbécil! ¡¿Parece una espía?!"* One of them shouts at the man who attempted to murder the girl just moments ago.

(Fucking moron! Does she look a like a spy?!)*

A gun is brought to his head and he's instructed to let go of her or die instead. The man lets go and backs away to allow the one of three guards to escort him off. The two guards that are left glare down at her in pity as they watch her shudder.

"Vete de aquí."* One of them gestured his head to the door.

(Get outta here)*

The girl tries to get to her feet but she collapses with tears streaming down her cheeks. They help her up and lead her out of the door as they shake their heads, muttering about who the fuck is training their guys nowadays.

"Fuckin' hell." Simon muttered to himself as he switched back his focus to the meeting happening in the room. No one had seemed to move from their positions. "'least tell us when y'r on th' move." His voice was filled with exasperation at [name's] cunningness.

"Sorry, Si."

She didn't mean that.

"How many?" Price asked over the comms, pushing away her actions to the back of his mind. He would deal with her later.

Simon could hear the girl cry as her tears mingled with the music from the club that drifted in and out of the bathroom. The girl was visibly distraught from her near death experience. Simon's lip was curled at the sight.

"Six." Simon replied as he watched the two guards lead her out of the restroom.

"Nine." Her voice interjected. "Those guys that took care of that--little squabble, are coming in right now." It made her heart wrench that she compromised another innocent woman, but with her out of harms way it was easier to focus on the mission once again.

"Sharp eye, hen." Johnny complimented her.

"Thank ya, Johnny." Her voice practically sang.

Minutes dragged by and Simon's eyes were dancing between [name] and the door that the cartel members all seemed to be facing, like they were waiting for the arms dealer to walk through at any given second.

"Any moment now." Simon muttered, keeping his eyes on the entrance for someone to enter, antsy for the deal to begin.

The door was pushed open and a man dressed in a crisp black suit with greased back silver hair and a thin, angular frame entered, along with another cartel member who held his weapon with his finger on the trigger. The man's eyes scanned the room as they approached the other cartel members, who remained relaxed. Simon let out a sharp breath, hoping that they had arrived on time to foil the deal.

"Tango has entered the building." Simon muttered into the comms.

A collective sigh of relief could be heard over their earpieces, but not from Price. His grip tightened on the bar stool as the seconds dragged on. It was hard to contain his breathing when his adrenaline spiked that high but he was managing.

Simon's voice was even and cool. He had trained for this moment. "Standby f'r engagement. Weapons free at m'signal."

"Copy." Price replied.

The transaction seemed ready to go down smoothly as the Russian man slid his briefcase towards the cartel members, who in turn slid over their weapons.

Simon's muscles began to tense, bracing himself for the inevitable gunfire. He was ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

Price's hand went to the butt of his gun, checking that it was secure in its holster as he waited for the signal to move in.

The men made their exchange, and the deal looked like it was going to go down without a hitch. But something didn't feel quite right.

Just when it seemed like things were going to go swimmingly, one of the cartel members raised his weapon and fired at the man in the suit. The man dove for cover behind the bar as a bullet shattered the glass door behind him. Chaos erupted as the entire room exploded in gunfire.

Bullets ricocheting off the walls, commands being yelled over the noise the clamor could be heard from both sides as the cartel was scrambling out of sight. [name] took that as her ticket to take care of the Russian arms dealer, but she was gently pinned to the wall.

A familiary honeyed voice in her ear. "An' where do y'think y'r goin', ducky?"

Johnny, Price and Simon move in with ease and efficiency as they neutralized the threats with no remorse. It more than personal at this point, as she ogled the way Simon used his lucky blade against the throat of one man, Johnny breaking the arm of another and Price taking his sweet time over the man that he watched so vehemently put his hands up your skirt. There seemed to be a common theme here.

"Someone call it in." Price let out a exasperated sigh as he shot the last guy straight in the skull without even giving him a second glance. He carded his calloused fingers through sweat saturated locks and his eyes fell on her.

His Sergeant's arms were enveloped around her lovingly as they eagerly tabbed their teammates individual vendettas.

"Done, sir?" Kyle probed playfully as he eyed his Captain and then the other two men. Simon flicked off the blood on his blade on the ground before using the now cartel member's suit to clean of the rest and stuffed it back in its holster, while Johnny's casually rolled his neck from side to side, cracking his neck like he just finished sparring.

The corners of Price's mouth turned up into an incredulous grin as he licked his lips and riveted on [name]. "Y'pull anotha stunt like tha' again, ducky--" He breathed out and shook his head as he took in her puckish grin. "ah fuck it. I've got no fire left 'n me after tonight."

He scratched his temple with the rear end of his handgun. "Y'call it in, Johnny?"

"Done tha' already, Cap." Johnny's tongue was peaking out of his lips as he pressed them in a thin line to keep himself from laughing, but the way the corner of his lips were kicking up gave it away.

"Good man." Price clapped the Scot's shoulder and soon the soft brouhaha of their men was heard, approaching them as they slammed doors of their vehicles ready to clean up the bodies and take them back to base. Simon and Johnny were more than happy to help them drag off the bodies onto the oncoming stretchers.

Price's bleary eyes glanced over at her form for a fleeting second before he headed toward the truck, but not before he pinched the exposed skin of her ass cheek causing her to yelp.

She pouted at him in passing to which he gave her a cheeky grin, gently instigating a smirk from her. Kyle's lips are on her cheek, his subtle stubble scratching her soft skin as she feels his breath against her ear.

"Y'r really in for it this time, ducky."

#cod #call of duty x reader #call of duty #call of duty imagines #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price x reader #captain john price #kyle garrick #gaz x reader #soap x reader #john price #price x reader #john price x you #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #poly ship #poly shenanigans #poly 141

[vantaesfairie]

𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔞 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔡 : 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔰𝔭 (𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔫𝔢𝔯) 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔲𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔫𝔢

atlty’s tarot readings: art commissions, paid readings, spell ritual comms open!

choose a pile below:

pile 1, crochet plant:

your dream sp: do yall like fixing people,,,,, hmmmmm bc im getting a vibe of i can fix them but you actually do. delusional ass. you want someone who has escaped some sort of bad experiences, or has a bad boy / girl appearance. you want someone who is a born leader, fiery energy, good with money and is ambitious to achieve their own goals. oh you want someone with duality. someone with a peaceful, gentle side to them that they don’t show often, perhaps mysterious or emotionally intuitive. 

your fated sp: someone who has experienced enough to become mature and warm and caring. i don’t think it’s a bad boy / girl. someone who has expertise in their field, master of 1 skill kind of vibe. someone who enjoys learning and travelling, broadening their horizons. idealistic, likes bright colours? that’s a specific message. always looking for chances for entrepreneurship, money making, learning new hobbies and skills, hopping around from one to the next. a fresh breath of air, embodies the sun. 

pile 2, crochet jellyfish: 

your dream sp: are yall stuck on your ex or someone toxic??? you want someone who can fight for you, will burn the world down to save you trope. someone who saves you from the bad things that happen to you. you want someone who can help you clear your mind and take a break, a healing person. someone who ISN’T STUCK ON THE PAST AND DOESN’T WALLOW IN SELF PITY. or maybe you are missing your ex who knows 

your fated sp: they may come in later in your life than you think. you are fated to meet someone who is powerful in their field, respects authority, perhaps religious and traditional. someone who has achieved happiness in all aspects of their life and is willing to share that with you. someone who completes you. kind and family-oriented, emotional, sensitive, and compassionate. balanced masculine and feminine energy. 

pile 3, crochet pasta: 

your dream sp: i think you watch too much tiktok or smut. yall are all FINDING THE SAME TYPE OF GUY. i think you like toxic people who will fight for you. literally physically fight someone off for you. someone who is good in bed and creative. passionate, motivated to work hard, probably athletic especially running. someone who can dominate you, but still be patient and compassionate with you. tamed wild beast typa feeling. 

your fated sp: and guess what you will get someone who will fight for you, but instead of literally fighting they will defend you and this relationship to the very end. someone who likes fairness and justice, could work in the law field. someone who will make sure that they give as much as they take. down to earth, nature-loving, practical and resourceful. willing to hand make things for you. likes to save money perhaps. 

ok i got lazy so i posted this like weeks after i said i was gonna sorries

i hope you enjoyed this pac! please consider purchasing a paid reading or spell service by sliding into my dms. reblog and share if possible! i’d love to know if this resonates to you. thank you so much! 

#witchblr #tarotblr #tarot #readings #pac #pick a card #love #candles #magick #magic #witch #pick a pile #services #boost #free #cards #wands #pentacles #swords #arcana

[adjobj]

i want to make an updated post, so hopefully traction can keep rolling..

hi, im rex, and my family and i are trying to escape roughly 18 years and counting of nonstop abuse via our horrible grandfather. i have a post going around about this. however, things have slowed considerably despite the circulating.

you can find our GFM with detailed information of our situation here: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-kasey-and-family-move-out-of-florida

i am also accepting kofi donos for things like survival money (groceries, other necessities like medication), as well as a goal specifically for funding a stronger laptop for work purposes to help speed up our escape: https://ko-fi.com/adjobj

in highly good news, my mom's insurance helped her get in with a highly regarded diabetes doctor ! he has a regimen he is recommending for her to try to help her bad heart + to help get her mobile again.

we really need to get the grocery order in particular ASAP ($100) for this to happen, but we dont want to dip into the crowdfund pool for this, as weve already had to do so for $200 to get her a new oxygen machine after my grandfather has repeatedly berated her until she has cried for her current one being ""too loud"".

i am just doing what i can to help rn until i can actually open comms up again. thank you. though i am technically closed, i am willing to do little pixels for $10; come ask about them, if interested. heres some examples:

#not art #trans crowdfund #mutual aid #crowdfunding

[jakowskis]

@buffetpallascat doing a good ol' days reply because i had enough thoughts on this to warrant some meta, in my typical rambling fashion. hope you don't regret engaging by the time im done dfhkdsf

for starters, you're very welcome, i'm glad you enjoy the post :D

as for your question - i meant moreso that it was typical of the fandom, although it was also very much influenced by societal trends of the time, too. fandom's always had a rocky history with women, especially women who supposedly 'get in the way of "slash" couples', but the way fandom misogyny is performed has changed; i see more willful erasure of female characters these days than flat out blatant misogyny. in tw fan content from the 00s, i've seen gwen hatefully AND casually called some pretty horrible things that i rarely see fictional or real women called nowadays, simply because standards have changed. hell, one of the comms i linked, the twgenre finders one, there was several entries requesting fic where gwen experiences, like, bodily harm? not in a whump-y way, they actually wanted to recreationally read fic about her getting physically injured and suffering, out of some bizarre sense of malice towards her. simply because she 'gets in the way of janto'. and i can't even fathom that existing nowadays. pretty much everyone outside of weird little 12 year olds knows that's not acceptable. not to mention it's just weird.

interestingly i've also noticed a lottttt of change in how the fandom... reacted to and treated janto as a couple back in the day, versus now. people in 2006 were not normal about gay people. we know fandom's history with fetishizing gay men, and it was even worse in 2006 with an exceptionally rare canon gay couple being received by a jarringly hetero-but-'slash'-obsessed fanbase.

i mean, i don't wanna generalize. i saw a poll recently about how fandom is not mainly composed of straight women, contrary to popular belief, at least anymore, and i guess the question is, was it ever? i have seen a lot of the people involved in fandom in the 00s identify themselves as straight, but was that partially because of the culture of that era? have any of those people since come out as some type of queer? maybe, for some of them, that was them exploring their queerness in a safe environment, when the culture around being gay in real life was a lot different.... the same way modern fandom culture continues to be for those of us who aren't in accepting homes. if they were 20smth year olds in the 2010s/2020s, rather than the 2000s, would they still identify as straight?

not sure. but i've made a habit of going on the profiles of old lj accounts, and i'll sometimes wind up going through the journals and the personal posts of authors i respect, etc etc. a significant amount of mid 00s fic writers were straight women in their 30s - 40s, many married, some with kids. very different demographic to modern fandom. very different climate they lived in vs the one we're in.

(although, bonus note, i also once found a thread of bisexuals in 2006 praising torchwood's depiction of bisexuality, and that made me exceptionally happy. but also maybe a little sad, because torchwood's my personal fav bi rep, too, in 2023, and the fact that we've had nothing better in seventeen years is a bit of a bummer. but i digress.)

anyway, this is all to say, i've seen some insanely fetishy shit about jack and ianto that rubbed me exceptionally wrong. that gross dehumanizing, severely homophobic place where it's like... ahh, ok, so you don't see them as people, you see them as sexy dolls you can mash together. but, ofc, that's how i view it as a bisexual person in 2023 who's been on tumblr far too long. they didn't see any problem with it. they might've even seen it as progressive. how can you be homophobic when you're obsessed with the little gay people on ur screen? but it's the opposite end of the 'homophobes reducing gay ppl down to what they do in their beds' trope, and it comes across as dated and icky now.

i mean, i consume a lot of older media, i know how to turn off my 21st century sensibilities and remind myself things used to be different, but it's honestly an impressive difference. there's some fantastic fics from that era of the fandom, in fact most of my favorite fics are from that era, but i often get quite a bit of culture shock reading things. particularly, i'm always impressed by people in the 2000s, an extremely biphobic era, applying their impressive period-typical 'bisexuals aren't real' beliefs to The Bisexual Show. torchwood's rep's not perfect (again, a product of its era), but i've seen a fantastic amount of gay!ianto and straight!owen, because bisexual men don't exist, obviously, and jack's not bisexual, he's the amazing slutty space man, except he's mostly gay because all that matters is janto. and i don't even really see explorations of gwen or tosh's bisexuality at all, because, again, women who?

i found a comm a while back, i didn't include it on my list because it wasn't torchwood-exclusive and didn't have much content in the tw tag, but it was a lgbtfest, and contained fics about the team and their relationships with their bisexuality, and it was really intriguing to me to see queerness as understood by regular people in 2007/2008, y'know, not by gay writers or activists or films. i have no way of knowing if any of them were speaking from any personal place, but it was just interesting, because none of the fics i read in that comm had that same brand of tone-deaf sex-focused homophobia to them, they were progressive for the time, but it was still apparent to me that they were written by people with a mid to late 00s understanding of being gay, and i do think it's interesting, that substantial difference.

got a bit off topic, but now that i mentioned the initial fandom being overwhelmingly composed of women, i can also add that i think internalized misogyny factored hugely into the fandom's disdain for gwen. the 'strong female' trope doesn't just annoy straight men, it also annoys a lot of women (though not consciously) - not because they're opposed to well-written women, but because society tells us certain things that'd be admirable and complex and sympathetic out of a male hero are unacceptable out of a female one. it's the double standard. jack does some awful shit, but i rarely see him criticized. i've straight up seen fans go "jack's kind of a bastard, but it's ok because he's hot", which is fine in jest, i've joked about shit like that with characters, but it's not so cute when those same people turn around and condemn gwen for her actions. hell, or owen. i've literally seen someone say they'd like owen more if he was more conventionally attractive. like, ok, you're clearly just here for the janto eye candy. you haven't brought any substantial critical thinking skills. pls take ur shallow ass and leave. but back to gwen - she was held to a standard none of the other characters are held to. they picked on her for the stupidest shit. and her worse sin, the infidelity, it's bad, sure, but i've seen countless male characters who cheat on their partners who are beloved by their fandoms. it's just fucking gross. i fucking hate hypocrites.

dude, yknow what?? i've even seen fucking tosh bashing. WHO THE FUCK HATES TOSH????

ok im done. sorry for my babbling. but yeah, i think it's a fascinating thing. i love how humans change and develop with the times and how we can map the changes and how they affect media, and it's fun to observe in fandom because it's there, too, but no one's looking so i get to feel like a little scientist fdskjfds. ok i will cease with the excessive babbling now

#mine #txt #torchwood posting #i love writing essays where i say nothing at all

[electricea]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN!

NAME — Jassi.

PRONOUNS — She/Her or They/Them.

PREFERRED COMM — Tumblr IM's or Discord but if I can help it, Discord is always the preferred option - it's so easy to have a Tumblr IM just get swallowed.

NAME OF MUSE — Ryuji Sakamoto.

EXPERIENCE IN RP — I started on Tumblr back in 2012, even before that I was familiar with forum and chatroom roleplaying.

BEST EXPERIENCES — Meeting some great friends on here and getting to write with a variety of different writers from across the world, all each unique and wonderful people with their own style.

PET PEEVES/DEAL BREAKERS — Lack of communication and godmodding. So much could be solved just by talking to one another.

MUSE PREFERENCE [ANGST, FLUFF, ETC] — There's not really one that I lean towards - fluff is definitely easier to get into a headspace to write but angst is still great too.

PLOT OR MEMES — Memes are a great icebreaker and a great way to interact if we haven't before, but I'm always open to plotting.

LONG/SHORT REPLIES — Somewhere in the middle - I'm not interested in doing essay length/novella replies, but I can handle some multi-para stuff, I can do just single paragraphs or one-liners. I tend to see what length my partner goes for and follow their lead.

BEST TIME TO WRITE — If I'm not working then I'd say the afternoon to evening.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE — In some ways - Ryuji is a lot more extroverted and blunt than I am but I like to think we're both loyal to our friends and willing to stand our ground.

Tagged by: @thenihilistofthevoid (Thanks!)

Tagging: Whoever wants to give this a go, I'd love to learn about you guys.

#( ooc. )

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

Tbb Season 2 SPOILERS below cut

OKAY, OKAY, OKAY, OKAY

Ik I'm like a day late to the party, but that was a JOURNEY. Here are ALL my thoughts that no one asked for :)

FIRST OF ALL, TECH. MY BOY. MY LOVE. (do not watch ep 2 a day before ur period if ur a tech girly. just don't. especially if u want ur make up to stay in tact. that was so rough yall)

me @ tech the entirety of episode 2: honey baby sweetie, pls sit down. sit down, pls. pls honey pLS I AM BEGGING SIT. DOWN.

Also @ all my fellow tech girlies, I hate to make it worse, but I don't think Tech passed out from exhaustion, I think he passed out from pain. because he broke his femor. HIS FRICKIN FEMOR, LIKE,,, THAT'S ONE OF THE MOST PAINFUL BREAKS AND THIS MAN IS WALKING AROUND

TECH SIT UR ASS DOWN, BE HUMBLE FOR FCKS SAKE

AAAAAAAHHHHH

anyway, now that that's outta the way

love that echo is willing and ready to rejoin the fight

love that Hunter recognises that a warzone is no place for a child (would be the first star wars character EVER I think)

I think it's gonna lead to a lot of conflict which I'm excited for tbh. Would love to see them emotionally maturing and realising that maybe they can't stick together. Maybe Hunter and Echo grew in different directions, and Echo needs to go back into the fight, while Hunter needs to take care of his ad'ika. Its okay to walk different paths in life and I would love to see them learning that.

Would be interesting to see where Wrecker and Tech land in that split. honestly, to early on to tell, I think.

Also, where is Crosshair, is he alright, is he okay?

Realising while writing this that I am still THOROUGHLY on my Tech bs, so more Tech from here on out lol :)

did he ever make it off that landing platform? when will we see him?

LOVED Wrecker btw. Seeing him pull a Tech and throwing a weapon together in the middle of a blast zone was just *chefs kiss*

Honestly, the only person that kinda sorta underwhelmed me is Hunter, but we got a lot of growth from him in the last season. I think that now that his relationship with Omega is cemented we finally get to see some more of the others and I'm ready for it. Just hope his character trait for the entire season doesn't stay "worried dad, yells at all his coworkers (BROTHERS), because they are getting his child into a dangerous situation (which is in fact inaccurate. they are just in a dangerous situation. with his child. anyway, I didn't like him yelling at Tech that one time that's all I'm saying)"

MY BOY DIDN'T EVEN REALISE PHEE WAS FLRITING WITH HIM IM---

YEA THAT'S MY BOY RIGHT THERE

(also, phee's name is pronounced like mine phie and it tripped me up for a good minute. anyways, kudos to her for picking out tech from the line up, she clearly has a good eye)

me @ tech when he fixes the data thing for his new friendo: YEA THAT'S MY BOY

also me @ tech when he didn't realise omega was missing: that too, is my boy :') (bc if there's anything I can relate to it's hyper focus)

Also, did yall notice that Hunter never found out Tech's wounded? they're on comms twice after his injury, once to tell them abt radio silence and once to tell them they're back online and transmitting coordinates. both times Tech levels out his voice when talking to Hunter, when he sounded like he's in pain before and after, which I find VERY interesting. Is Tech scared to show weakness to Hunter? Where would that come from? What happend there?

final thought for the night: ECHOS FACE WHEN CID CALLED HIM KILLJOY?? honey sweetie sugar-cubey, I know it hurts when ppl tell u harsh truths but you've seemed tense for A WHILE, DO U NEED A HUG OR SOMETHING?

#gonna try not to ramble in my tags for too much bc spoileeeeees #anyway #star wars #the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #clones #swtcw #tbb s2 spoilers #tbb s2 #tbb spoilers

[endcrman]

Allostasis

(Chapter 2)

As a general rule of thumb, Grian doesn’t do public servers for a multitude of reasons. This one hadn’t even made it onto the list.

TW for implied sexual assault, PTSD symptoms, Self-Neglect, and minor Disordered Eating

Read the whole fic here.

-

Grian woke to more messages. Some from hermits, but he didn't bother looking at those too closely, too preoccupied with the hours-old notification in the universal chat.

samgladiator: griannnnnnn

samgladiator: i know you havent blocked me grian cmon

samgladiator: are you mad about the redstone thingy? i was just goofing and gaffing you know what im like lol

Grian laid his head back against his pillow, eyes closed as he tried to figure out how to respond. His eye hurt. He didn't want to get out of bed. He didn't want to build, he didn't want to fish, he didn't want to work on anything right now. He was tired.

His comm buzzed again.

GoodTimeWithScar: hey grain, how are you doing after yesterday?

Grian: bit tired, but just fine! thanks for checking in

He was tapping out a lie before he could even think about it, not wanting to worry Scar. He had enough to concern himself with even before Grian was involved, he didn't have to add any more stressors to his plate.

Scar said something else, but Grian had closed his messages already, opening Sam's again, staring at them. What was he even supposed to say to that? Call him out on his bullshit? Laugh along with his shitty excuse of a joke? A voice in the back of his head was telling Grian to block him, but that would just make Sam mad, he reasoned.

Grian: what do you want sam

He regretted the message the instant he sent it, flinching as he turned off his comm again. Why was he so stupid? Why couldn't he leave well enough alone?

Grian turned over on his side, pulling a pillow over his head with a groan as the communicator buzzed. If only he hadn't just woken up, then he could fall asleep again and ignore all of this for even longer. 

Of course, Grian had no such luck. Instead he laid there, staring at the blank wall in front of him.

His comm buzzed yet again and Grian let out a bitter laugh, he could almost imagine Sam staring in anticipation at his own comm, waiting for Grian to get back to him after all this time. It was kind of pathetic, if that was what he was doing. How lonely was he?

And yet, Grian was reaching over to read his messages anyways.

samgladiator: i'm sorry.

samgladiator: like for real. no jokes. i know we were really messed up as kids and ive been working on it i promise. i guess i saw you and it just felt like we were kids again. fucked up but still in it together. i didnt mean it

He was still trying to process the words when another message came through, automatically populating the chat.

samgladiator: you can keep ignoring me if you want, i get it :( but if youre ever willing, i wanna make it up to you. text me whenever

He was going to throw up. There were a few panicked moments as he dug through his chests, silently pleading to anyone listening that he actually had a bucket up in his base, not just lost in his chest monster down below. His wishes were answered luckily, however unneeded, as he curled over the metal bucket on the floor, retching and dry heaving. His stomach was already empty, bile burning his throat, but that wasn't enough to curb the ill piercing it's way through his entire being.

Grian wasn't sure how long he sat there, bucket in his lap as his body tried to evacuate his stomach's non-existent contents. He was trembling when he finally managed to stop gagging, the bucket empty aside from a couple stray tears that had made their way down his cheeks. He was so tired again.

Shakily, he set the bucket down on the ground, easily accessible just in case. The sound of metal meeting the wooden floor was so, so loud in his ears, echoing around his base, making him flinch. Grian took a deep breath, carefully getting up on two wobbly legs before rolling into bed again. He should eat. 

He didn't get up, falling asleep again.

-

I'm sorry. Sam might as well have written those words on the inside of Grian's eyelids, as often as he was stuck thinking about them. Sam didn't apologize, that was part of what made him so insufferable to begin with, always convinced that he was in the right. So what the hell was this?

Grian wasn't sure how long it had been since he received those last messages from Sam, not really bothering with the passage of time. He'd spent most of said time thinking, turning over what had happened and what Sam had said in his head, picking at pieces of food he had laying around the base, and making up excuses to not have to see any other hermits.

He knew he was in a sorry state, and he knew he had to pull himself together before anybody saw him. Unfortunately, the universe seemed to have other plans.

“Grian!” Joel's voice was loud, Grian almost didn't recognize it as his own name, directed towards him. He pulled a pillow over his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored him, he'd go away.

That was too much to hope for though. Why would Joel ever go away when he could cause problems instead?

“Grian! It's Sunday!” His voice was getting closer, and all Grian could think to do was hold the pillow even tighter over his head. “It's Sunday and you're not at the permit office! Get your butt out here! Or else I'll come in, and drag you out of your birdhouse by your scrawny little ankles, I swear to-'' Joel's voice peaked in both volume and proximity the same time it petered off into uncertainty. Then, it was quieter again. “Grian?”

Grian just groaned in response, holding the pillow even tighter over his head, maybe he could suffocate in it. Then he would respawn, Joel would laugh it off, call him some names for being stupid enough to do something like that, and everything would go back to normal instead of whatever else was about to happen, whatever lecture he was about to receive.

No such luck. Instead he felt a touch on his forearm, something he instinctively rolled away from which left him looking up at the other, wide eyes meeting even wider. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t force anything to come out. He noticed too late to stop just how tightly he was clutching the pillow to his chest, he must look like a mess.

Joel slowly withdrew his hand, and judging by how his brows furrowed and ears flattened against the top of his head the mess part was definitely true. Without wasting another moment, Joel schooled his expression into something more neutral— as if his tail flicking back and forth didn’t give him away— and sat bodily onto the foot of Grian’s bed, bouncing on the mattress.

“You seem busy, the permit office can wait,” he said with a shrug, not looking directly at Grian. He sat cross-legged, pulling his tail into his lap to brush the fur into place, pulling out a leaf and dropping it on the floor without even checking if Grian would care. His wings itched at the reminder of what could be. “Impulse’s wall is starting to get some graffiti on it, have you had a chance to see? Gem’s got a real good tag up there, I think you’d like it.”

Grian was silent, pulling his legs up just a bit so they weren’t in Joel’s way and shifting onto his back to look up at the ceiling instead of the tanuki in front of him. He couldn’t tell if this was better or worse than if the other had just confronted him about what was going on.

“I’ve actually been thinking about what I want to put on it,” Joel continued after a moment, as if the other actually had responded. Grian’s muscles ached from the sudden movements after what felt like days of disuse, leading to him stretching his legs out again, around Joel this time, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I need to put something up over by my base, I couldn’t stand it if it didn’t match my build, even if it was undeniably fantastic.”

He just kept talking, filling the empty air with his voice. Grian wouldn’t admit it, but it was sort of soothing, having somebody else around instead of just jumping from thought to thought, getting lost in them and feeling worse and worse.

It did start feeling awkward after a little, having Joel sit while he laid in bed, so Grian forced himself to sit up even as his muscles protested, at least a little, leaning back against the headboard of his bed.

“Thought you might have fallen asleep or something,” Joel joked once Grian had settled, making him look away in embarrassment. “I wouldn’t have blamed you, you look blummin’ tired, huge bags under your eyes. Something bothering you?” He asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. Grian only shrugged, not trusting his voice after so long, thankfully Joel didn’t push for an answer beyond that, coming to the same conclusion. “Stupid question, sorry. New question, when’s the last time you got out of bed?”

Grian must have made a face at that, because Joel laughed before managing to catch himself, snapping his mouth shut, which pulled the quietest huff of laughter out of Grian in turn. Just that by itself made his throat hurt a bit.

“Don’t laugh at me, I’m trying to be a good friend here.” Joel’s tone was light, and his smile made it clear he considered the small noise a success. “Hey, bed boy, let’s get you up and clean, how’s that sound? You go shower, and I’ll make you some real food.”

He wanted to protest, but his throat felt all closed up, and his traitor of a stomach growled at the thought of something other than stale bread for the first time in forever. Instead he pouted, petulant, and held his hands out.

“Yes!” Joel pumped his fist, making Grian roll his eyes. This was so stupid. “Sorry, come on, let’s get you moving again.” He slid off the bed first, taking Grian’s hands and helping him stand up. He almost fell at first, leaning far too much of his weight onto Joel, his legs wanting to do nothing but lay down again. “Careful, can you stand by yourself?”

It took a couple hundred ticks for him to stop swaying, and a couple more for him to finally stand on his own, wings spread just a bit to help him keep balance. He took a deep breath, trying to think of anything but said wings.

“Good job, you’re doing great,” Joel murmured, and it didn’t sound mocking at all, but Grian couldn’t help himself from ruining everything good that happened to him.

“I’m not a child,” he croaked out, voice rough from disuse, it almost didn’t sound like him.

Joel must have thought the same, because he looked shocked, though he quickly gathered himself again. “I know you’re not,” he scolded gently, too kind, “but you look like you’ve been through hell and back, and I want to make this as easy for you as possible."

And now he felt bad, guilty, for ever considering anything different than that. “Sorry,” he managed, even quieter, but Joel shook his head.

“Go get cleaned up, alright? I’ll make some food for you.” He brushed Grian’s hair out of his eyes, brows furrowing again, and he only pulled away when Grian nodded, throat hurting too much to say anything else at the moment.

He didn’t think Joel was going to find anything to make in his base right now, having neglected to actually fill many of the chests, Grian was lucky to have had enough bread to last him as long as it had. Regardless, he made his way to the tiny shower he’d managed to cram into the base, cranking the water heat up as high as it could for now and carefully pulling his t-shirt he’d been wearing for void knows how long off over his wings. He crinkled his nose, imagining the smell he’d become blind to and immediately feeling grateful that Joel hadn’t said anything about it.

Grian kicked off his pants without much fanfare and immediately dove into the shower, melting under the hot water. Now that he was made aware of it, he could feel the layer of grime that was surely there covering his skin, burning water finally melting it away. He carefully sat on the floor of the shower, barely managing to fit in the small space, especially with his wings. He took a deep breath, resting his head on the wall behind him, and just soaked it up like a fish left out of the river for too long, he chuckled softly to himself at the comparison.

He must have dozed off or something, because he jolted awake at the sharp knock on the door, and Joel's voice coming from just outside of it. “You alright in there Grian? Food’s almost done!”

“Y-yeah!” He called back before even thinking about it, regretting it immediately, voice scratchy. His throat hurt, but he didn't have time to worry about that, fumbling for the shampoo among the other bottles in the shower with him.

He definitely spent too much time just sitting under the water, so he tried to properly clean himself up as quickly as possible, so Joel wouldn't be left waiting. It wasn't long before he was out again, towel around his waist, hair and feathers dripping as he peeked out the door into the rest of the base.

“Joel?” He tried not to speak too loudly, not wanting to irritate his throat more, but he needed the other's attention. It seemed the other wasn't wandering far though, with how quickly he reappeared. “Can you-” He coughed. “Can you bring me clean clothes?”

Joel brightened up the more he spoke, nodding quickly as his tail swished behind him. “Of course! Be right back!” And he was off again.

He was back just as quick, and Grian didn't have the energy to ask him how he managed to find everything so easily, and whether or not his closet was left in decent state. Instead he closed the bathroom door again, pulling on clean clothes and already feeling a bit better. The sweater topped that feeling off, covering him like a security blanket. He shook the water out of his hair and wings before padding out into the main room again, catching a whiff of something that smelled amazing.

“Hey,” Grian's gaze fell on Joel, who was setting up a place for him to sit. “Your hair's a mess still.”

He blushed, shrugging his shoulders. He sat down before Joel even suggested he did, feeling tired.

“I can brush it for you,” he offered, setting down a grilled salmon in front of Grian, whose mouth was watering already. “I've done it for Lizzie before, I promise not to pull.”

“Did you catch this?” Grian asked instead, forcing himself to slow down before he ate the whole thing immediately.

“Borrowed one of your poles, figured you wouldn't mind too much,” Joel explained, setting a steaming mug down in front of him too.

He hummed softly in response, forcing himself to slow down after a couple bites and taking a sip of the tea Joel had made him. Far too sweet.

“I added some extra honey,” either Joel was reading his mind, or he'd made a face without realizing. “Your throat sounded pretty rough, it'll be good for you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, truly meaning it, whether it sounded that way or not. Joel was pretty quiet while he finished eating, puttering around the small base, occupying himself. Eventually he finished, pushing the plate away for later, and he heard Joel coming up behind him.

“I found your brush, mind if I take care of your hair?”

Grian sighed, a little smile creeping onto his face. “I guess, you promised not to pull though,” he reminded the other, head tilting back a bit.

“And I meant it!” Joel sounded offended, though he snickered after a second. “It'll help, you'll feel more like a person,” he murmured, and Grian felt him starting to work his fingers through his hair.

“You've been helping a lot already,” Grian admitted softly, relaxing easily into the touch. How long was his hair now? It couldn't be too much longer than he usually kept it.

“Glad to hear,” for once Joel didn't sound smug or full of himself, just genuinely glad. “How long have you been out of it?” The brush started working it's way through his hair.

“Dunno,” Grian mumbled, taking a deep breath. “Since… Since I last went off server,” he felt himself tense a little at the reminder, wings twitching.

“With Scar and Mumbo?” Joel kept his tone even, non-judgemental for once. “They mentioned your eye, was that what happened?”

A hand suddenly flew up to his eye, gently touching the skin near it. “P-part of it. Is it still there?” He'd been avoiding looking in the mirror since.

“Barely,” Joel assured him, and the motion of the brush through his hair started relaxing him again. “I only noticed because I knew to look for it. You said part, what else happened?”

He felt like his throat was closing up, eyes watering a little. “My- my wings,” he managed out, taking a deep breath. “Something happened.”

“Something,” Joel repeated, hands never stopping. “Are they alright? Nothing broken at least? They don't look broken.”

“N-nothing broken,” Grian confirmed, feeling them tremble, just a little. “Don't really wanna-”

“That's fine,” Joel murmured, and it was quiet for a moment. “With me? Or with anyone?”

He didn't know how to answer that, opening his mouth to begin speaking, only to close it when he couldn't think of anything. No, not Joel specifically, but he wasn't sure who, if he would anyone.

“I usually braid Lizzie's hair when I'm done,” Joel said nonchalantly, the brush regretfully leaving Grian's head, “but yours is pretty short. We could try a little ponytail if you want, I think it'd be fun.”

Grian shook his head, reaching for the mug of tea again. Knowing Joel, he'd gather up all the hair in front of his head, pull it all together right on his forehead… Though maybe not today specifically.

There was silence for a bit, comfortable, until Joel decided to speak again. “Would you tell Mumbo?”

Grian froze. Would he? He could. Mumbo knew the kind of stuff he went through when he was young, even if just vaguely. He was scared though, there was always the chance, no matter how small, that Mumbo would scold him when he found out just how deep that rabbit hole went.

“Careful, you'll shatter that,” Joel warned him, moving to take the mug from his white-knuckled hands, setting it down on the table again. Grian hadn't even noticed how tightly he'd been holding onto it. “Not Mumbo then, what about Scar?”

Scar. Scar didn't know any of it. At least, he knew less than Mumbo, he'd have less context clues to put it all together, he'd be reliant on the details Grian told him, and only those.

“... Maybe, I don't know,” he answered honestly, tracing the grain in the table with his finger.

“Maybe is better than no, or trying to shatter a cup of boiling tea all over yourself,” Joel was being dramatic, it wasn't even steaming anymore. “Why don't you take a nap? I'll get him over here in the meantime, I think he'll help, even if you don't tell him.”

Grian hadn't even realized how tired he was again, the thought of a nap sounding much more pleasing to him than it usually would. He didn't even think to argue, nodding as he carefully got up from the table, a yawn escaping him.

“Careful now,” Joel warned, helping him to bed. Grian would have taken offense at that were he not so exhausted, and the second he was laying down again he was out like a light.

#grian #hermitcraft #smallishbeans #yandere high school #writing #my post #allostasis main tag #allostasis fic

[ratgingi]

you have,,, ghs oc's right?? if i remember correctly,,, would you,,, would you wanna ramble about any of them?? haha, maybe tell us some info about them,, and info dump,,, even if they're so incoherent i am sitting here willing to listen to whatever your mind conjures /gen,, KSDNKJS

I DO i used to have more but they were either lost to time or need to be reworked and are not fit for public eye BUT there is.... her

babs ...... i was actually drawing her for a comms promo thing so thats what this is frm lmao

shes really under developed due to me jumping ship to a different hyperfixation right after i started workin on her BUT i have been thinking a lot abt her recently uhhh

shes a rat so i wanna make her related to the gregory family in some way . probably like . distant cousin or some shit who decided this shit sucks fuck it we ball im going to visit uncle greg at his place and works as a bartender to earn her stay

shes not very good with kids but does her best to be nice about booting them from the bar when they get in there . probably ignores literally everyone except catherine when shes there because babs is a big dumb lizard kisser whos too scared to Actually make any moves since any time cat talks to her its about one of the guys around the hotel </3

she and the second guest probably get along pretty well i would think. just like cat and mama have their girls nights babs and second guest probably hang out and have their own

#i love her sm i need to work on her more ...... #ghs #ghs oc #interactions #hobos creations #view party #i need . a ghs oc tag #spare souls #<- that works

[bvannn]

Weekly Update March 8, 2024

I didn’t do as much as I had hoped over spring break due to still being sleep deprived, but tomorrow and the next night I should be able to catch up. I’m making a good deal of progress on stuff.

I figured out animation with Clip Studio enough to make a little gif of Romeo playing piano, to go along with his theme. I’m really happy with how it came out. That’s the biggest song I have ready, but I’m really close on another (unless I decide to get more ambitious, which I might), and I do have a smaller one scheduled to go up Tuesday. I’m feeling surprisingly good about music.

The main problem I’m having is kind of a ‘just finish it’ thing, where I’m just not motivated to go record melodies or melody parts for whatever reason. That’s what’s holding back a couple pieces now, but I’m hoping that I can do some tonight or tomorrow. I’m thinking tonight because I got hit with inspiration for another character theme melody, and I don’t want to lose it while I sleep tonight, but I’d feel bad starting in that when another character theme and some other miscellaneous pieces are also awaiting melodies and recordings. I’d like to knock a whole bunch out tonight, because theoretically they shouldn’t be that bad, the annoying part is dressing them up for use which doesn’t need to be done tonight. Im not sure if I want to tonight because I also want to draw, at a minimum I’ll record that character theme melody.

The other big music thing is a vocaloid cover of a song that I’m using to test out how vocaloid works. I got the audio back from the friend with the voicebanks, and it sounds a lot better than expected! There’s a couple things I do want to tweak, but I don’t think I’d be able to do it from within the program, it’ll probably be more me fiddling with the wav file. Idk song is going surprisingly well, shouldn’t be very complicated to round up instruments, I already got all the plugins set up it’s just a matter of recording. I’ve also managed to find a guy in my area who offers Guitar lessons for cheap, which I’ve been taking and I do think the two I’ve been to are helping. Maybe if I get really brazen I can record organic guitar instead of using a vst, since it should be mostly or entirely power chords, but it’s not the end of the world if I can’t.

I do want to figure out visuals to go with it. I was a little hesitant to really put in a big effort with it, until I heard that buying a license for cover rights is ‘not actually that expensive’. I don’t know if that means 10 or 200 bucks but worst case I can hold onto it until I’m comfortable enough to drop money if it’s really that expensive. I’d like to do a simple music video with the vocaloid character, since the original song’s video is also really simple, although I need to figure out character design. Might throw a few together and put up a poll.

I’ve been trying to get more drawing stuff done too, some miscellaneous animations mostly. I’m really trying to push myself to finish up the timings I need for my commission sheet, and honestly I’m pretty close. I feel bad because I probably will have to increase prices after all, but I’m also offering other options, which can still be cheap. I’m trying not to undercut myself for my level of work, but art commissions are so expensive that I don’t want to be overcharging either. Most of the comms I have done have come with tips, so I guess people are willing to pay a bit more than I was charging anyway, but even then I don’t want to crank the prices high just because a few people are willing to pay more. I’m charging based on time, I just need to sort out how long things take.

Final point, comic writing/thumbnailing is going well, I’m at 25.5/32. Unsure how bad editing is going to be, but I’m kinda editing as I go along so I don’t anticipate it’ll be that bad. I’m expecting to be able to actually start making pages soon. What comes next could either be a continuation or a pitch for the other story. I get more questions about the other story, so I’m tempted, but I also feel like it’s a harder sell than the first. Whatever I need to finish the first one first, and that’s what I’ll do.

I’m still messed up on sleep and flareups are also picking up pretty bad, but only in the mornings, so I bet if I get more sleep they’ll go away too. Either way I do have a consult for the next surgery to deal with that in a couple months, so I should hopefully be okay. Plan tonight is to either draw some more or record some stuff

#weekly update

[thepavementsings]

okay sorry top 5 piarles and/or yukierre and/or other bfs AUs

This is a fun one! I don’t even know if these are top 5 but top ones I think of these days

1) Yukierre Swim Team Au - roadtrip edition! Yuki and Pierre decide to roadtrip across the states to a spring break swim meet instead of flying. They stop in New Orléans on the way. Pierre googles the French Quarter the morning of and tells Yuki half fake facts the entire way there, and Yuki takes them to the Creole restaurant he’s been talking about for months. I almost wrote a getting lost singing karaoke part of this but thought it would be too cheesy - when I found out a few weeks ago they literally did that irl in Austria last year…. Pierre smiling at Yuki singing at the top of his lungs in the passenger seat, whole road ahead of them theirs, hoping it stretches as far as this journey is willing to take them :)

2) Yukierre Sport WAG Au. Inspired by the Miami football pictures. Yuki is still on F1, Pierre is a Red Bull sponsored player, and Yuki meets him doing  his summer training out at the Red Bull LA facilities. They ditch some boring sponsor party together, Pierre chasing behind Yuki after he just  says “There is much better places here than this. Im going now” and heel spins out of the party. Yuki takes him to a burger food truck, promises they wont tell their trainers. Hanging out all the time for the next month! Pierre eats Yuki out by his very expensive rental pool! Going to the beach together :) They DON’T talk about it when they have to go back for their seasons. But Pierre starts like... stupid instagram memes for Yuki to read when he wakes up. And Yuki doesn’t get half of them but he laughs back anyways... Feels these butterflies in his chest when Pierre heart reacts his messages. Kicks himself for being stupid about it, but he waits for them all the same 

3) Storm crisis intervention researcher Charles/storm chaser Pierre. I think I’ve talked about this on briefly before. my beloveds. They fell out of touch some after college. Pierre is currently in the Caribbean. Once he puts the cameras and the raincoats and the socks soaked through away for the evening, he pulls out one of the notebooks he still uses that he got during school. Pierre writes about every way he felt alive today in those dampened, water stained pages, until the adrenaline runs out and his fingers stop shaking. 

Meanwhile, when Charles hears about hurricanes about to touch down in the West Coast of the islands in his morning debrief, he opens the bottom drawer of his desk and switches on the radio walkie he has set to the emergency comms lines. pretends he’s not dreading hearing a familiar name. 

4) Engineer Pierre! Pierresteban. Pierre drops out of racing in their Formula Renault Series - a crash takes him out for too many rounds and he loses his sponsorships and that’s it really. Esteban hasn’t seen him for years - he used his mom’s LinkedIn to stalk his profile once but it just said he was at some university in Southern France, and it’s not like he can request to follow his Instagram now. Which is why it’s a surprise, when he gets to the factory his first day at Alpine, and Pierre is there. He’s as loud as Esteban remembers, laughter rising through the hallways before he even steps into data room. His eyes are sharp and clear when he shifts his gaze to Esteban’s frame taking up the doorway, and suddenly Esteban has never been so interested at tyre degradation graphics as he is right now. 

5) Yukierre Knight AU! Yuki is a squire for an old knight who is halfway to his deathbed, but insists on keeping his rank (and his squire). So Yuki spends most of his days accompanying him to various town activities and tending to his horse. He can't help but notice the knight in the stable next to him, that comes in every morning to tend to his horse. He works in silence, weaving the its mane in the same plait before the sun rises, and takes it out every evening, despite having a squire of his own. Yuki has heard the stories of him around the town: called to the King's guard his first year as a knight, and sent away to protect the kingdom in the North. The first squire the town has sent in years. He came back not 6 months later, with a fierce depth to his stare and a scar on his flank Yuki can only see when he lifts his hands to braid. 

#little mind palaces! #there would be more piarles #but after calamar-gate I got sad every time I thought about them for like a week and a half :( #but i am brining them back to me one baby at a time! #yukierre #pierresteban lore #pierre/charles #asks

[voidfangs]

NAME? — phoenix

PRONOUNS? — whatever your heart desires

PREFERRED COMMS? — discord once we've established some ooc communication. tumblr ims is fine otherwise, i just find it to be a clunky system.

NAME OF MUSE? — calamity, voidsent creature, that bitch, [redacted]

EXPERIENCE IN RP? — uhhhh overall i think about 12-13 years or so? i know i took a 3 year hiatus at one point otherwise it'd be more. 5 on tumblr though.

BEST EXPERIENCE? — meeting people that have become big parts of my life, the excitement of throwing headcanons and plots around, the indulgence of having a community to share my hyperfixation with.

PET PEEVES & DEAL BREAKERS? — i don't have many really but forceshipping and extreme jealousy over my ships with other people / feeling like their ship partner is abandoning them because they ship with me also (whilst all being multiship, ofc) and the related behaviour that goes with that kind of jealousy are my big dealbreakers. i've experienced both of these once before and i truly do not wish to experience it again.

other than that, just lack of ooc communication when there's a problem and expecting me to know about it and fix it.

MUSE PREFERENCE? ( fluff, angst, or smut? ) — i tend to be best at angst, as it's what i'm known most for in regards to writing with my friends but i still enjoy a bit of fluff and try to balance it as i can. i've only written smut on occasion, and whilst i don't mind it, it tends to be something i keep within discord rp within friends. otherwise i keep it suggestive / fade to black.

PLOTS OR MEMES? — oh, both for sure! i love memes for first interactions, throwing stuff around, enjoying seeing how characters interact & respond to different things. some meme threads have been my most enjoyed threads, but i also enjoy plotting! it's just not one of my best skills and is something i work on (i'm head empty half the time as you'll come to find, sorry).

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES? — i try my best to match length but honestly? my own replies vary so much in length depending on the day and my muse and if it's all willing to work with me.

BEST TIME TO WRITE? — that's up to the gods and not me tbh. (it's 3am when i'm laying in bed trying to sleep and typing replies up on my phone)

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE? — the characters i write are generally a way to explore themes that mean something to me — whether through things i've experienced or things i'm curious about so i've come to find over the years that all of my ocs contain aspects of myself to some degree or at least a couple of my traits, both postive and negative ones, usually exaggerated. calamity has my issues with gender and i won't lie, she's got some of my parental issues and issues with emotions & losing control, although hers are a much worse degree than mine. i'm sure she's got some of my positive traits too but i can't pinpoint them right now fjhkdsf

TAGGED BY: yoinked

TAGGING: yoink it

#✧ ⥼ㅤ — ㅤ❝ it’s not a metaphor‚ this ache. ╱​ ooc. #is it bad i can most recognise my neg traits in cal and not my pos ones?

[bitebackbaby]

just read through your clone OCs post and i just have to say, i love them, your honor. i've loved getting glimpses of them in the fox in the henhouse series, and now i need to bundle all of them up in warm blankets and make them warm beverages. thanks for sharing your lovely creations with the world <3

i have been keeping this in my inbox like it’s a blanket for my little mouse body that soothes me on these long winter nights, but i suppose i must learn to let go…

anyway IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY OCS!! It might be a little early to begin discussing marriage, but im willing to start the arrangements if you are <3

for real, its super nice to hear that people are enjoying the clones i throw in my fics (here is a list with more information, for the uninitiated!) — each of them is my super special baby who is god’s weakest soldier and i love them dearly. they each have a purpose, too! i enjoy exploring what it means to be military (but not) and the weird state of martial law that Coruscant edges into even before the empire ever rises, and some oc clones makes it easy to dig deeper into different aspects of that without completely transplanting canon characters, though the canon guard members have such little screen time that some futzing doesn’t matter too much…

and i'm rambling. well! as a reward (?) for making it this far, here’s a couple of new characters that will be featuring this month as febuwhump goes on!

JUDGE: [he/him] a techie who (allegedly) works with the Senate air traffic control. this information is mostly guesswork, as anytime someone comes looking for Judge, he tends to be sitting in the break room on his comm, so it’s hard to say if he does any work at all. completely unbothered by pretty much anything, he nonetheless has a reputation around the Guard of being a complete badass because he can make any senator shut up within two sentences. he accomplishes this by being the one in charge of clearing flights to the surface, and any senate workers who invoke his wrath quickly find themselves on hold for the next two hours while he takes a long lunch.

name origin: due to his unflappable nature, he quickly became the go-to trooper to be called upon to mediate petty disputes. there is apparently no rhyme or reason for which side he chooses, but it has become an unofficial rule within the barracks that once Judge has made the final call, the party’s over.

TWO: [he/they] a member of Thorn’s diplomatic escort team, but the rest of them all try to keep Two at the back (preferably with his mouth taped shut) because despite his excellent marksmanship skills and high scores on the diplomacy and hostage negotiations sims, Two is a mean little bastard who would probably dox people on twitter in a modern au. Thorn snatched up Two very quickly, because he knew that his batchmate Moriarty was aiming for the recently-graduated cadet to join the Guard’s T&I division, and Thorn didn’t think Fox’s blood pressure could handle that.

name origin: “Two” is actually short for Two-Faced, and has nothing to do with their CT number. Two greatly enjoys getting the chance to explain this to people, and daring them to say anything about it. be careful, this one bites!

thanks for the ask, and thanks for reading this far!! if anyone ever have questions about my ocs or wants to chat about writing, feel free to hit me up!! i’ll take any chance i can get to talk about my little freaks 🥰

#oztalk

[cfmanymuses]

Get to know the admin.

Name — Phantom, but you can call me Sarah, too. I kinda stopped caring.

Pronouns — She/Her or They/Them.

Preferred comms — Discord and Tumblr IM's.

Name of muse — I have way too many. If I listed them all, I'd be here all night!

Experience in RP — At least 16 or 17 years now? I know I started when I was 15, and I'm almost 32. Jesus, I'm old. I started out in deviantArt's old chatrooms (rip dAmn), then tried forums for a bit before I came here.

Best experiences — Honestly, any time someone indulges me when I'm back on my bullshit is a good experience, I don't like labelling them. If we're laughing or crying, then we're having a good time, right?

Pet peeves / Dealbreakers — I really don't like it when people pull a Sovereign and assume direct control of my character. If your muse is going to take mine by the hand and drag them somewhere, that's fine, but they aren't chess pieces to be moved by your own hand. Please don't. (Yes, this happened multiple times in the past, and it still irks me.)

Muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — Smut's off the table for me, but I'll happily play with fluff and angst. (Any thread where I get to use Namira's mermaid verse is usually angst heavy, it needs fluff to break it up.)

Plot or memes — I'm terrible with plotting, I never have the time or the braincells for it. Throw memes at my face, though, we can always have fun with those!

Long or short replies — Somewhere in the middle, really. Sometimes I can only coax short replies out of the muse, other times we sit down and write a freakin' novel.

Best time to write — When I'm not suffering from burnout and brainrot? I write better at night, or sometime after work. Mornings are out of the question, unless I had one of those weird dreams that came with a story and I actually remembered it. Those are rare.

Are you like your muse — Some of them, yes, but not exactly. I'm not willing to get in as much as trouble as they do 😆

Tagged by Stolen from: @electricea (Thanks! This was fun!)

Tagging: Whoever wants to do this! I'm really just bored and killing time!

#Out of the Void; #(I might have rambled a bit? That's gonna happen a lot. Sorry not sorry.)

[stormcrow513]

So Transformers movies again,

So the thing is I really love these movies and I think one of the things I like best about them is the things other people hate,

The world their in is so familiar to the one I inhabit that it feels real to me in a way,

Like is there misogyny in here?

Yep,

and do I like misogyny and being treated as less for my sex?

Nope, sure fucking do not, but thing is it is such a lived part of my experience that to not see it would feel off,

I mean I didn't even have boobs yet when family members started pointing at the 'sluty' girls on TV and telling me 'that's going to be you when you get older'

No I am not kidding true fact,

So when I see all these kick ass women being treated with less respect then the men,

I feel for these ladies it helps me care about these side characters that by design of movies being fast paced, you don't get much from,

And a lot of things that do put misogyny into to 'bring attention to it' and such,

They tend to show out an out creepos, or mustache twirling,

They don't tend to show the more wide spread every day basically every guys done it once things,

The first transformers movie has a great showing of this,

Now Maggie super smart chick, whose just had one of those intuitive leaps that tend to bare out right,

The kind we can't really describe why we came to this conclusion, because it was our brains connecting a bunch of small dots,

What is often called gut intuition,

A thing men are praised for and women are often called names and treated poorly for,

The men scoff at her will barely let her speak,

The main old white guy even starts off going 'this is the analyst that detected the hack?!'

'her team,' a guy adds in, when you see her prod guy in her team to do what he's supposed to be doing

She's really pretty and has a Australian I believe accent,

And she's also blunt, but not exactly overly rude about, she just won't be talked down to, or shut up, when an all out war could break over nothing that any human nation is responsible for,

The same old guy tells her to basically watch her mouth or he'll kick her out,

Again this gal just pulled this great stunt off for them and cause she's not kissing his ass, and just speaking like a normal human being, he's willing to lose her good work over it,

____

And the way everyone reacts to the Cybertronians is so realistic,

The desert scene where Epps a trained soldier is reporting on the Decepticon attacking his team,

And he's clearly the communications guy, he's always the guy on comms relaying what's happening, Lennox passes him the phone as soon as it connects,

And Epps is shouting things like 'i don't know man, if you'd seen this shit' while this giant metal scorpion is just fucking throwing down, it bursting up from under the fucking San like the god damn tremors movies, it shooting at them,

I mean can you imagine, even trained soldiers would struggle like that, because seriously what the hell,

Imagine for a second you lived in a world where transformers weren't a thing and all big robot shows inspired by it also didn't exist,

And you see these fucking guys,

Holy pants wetting man, ida fucking booked it my friends,

_____

You see something done to the Autobots that we see done over and over in American history, and you watch it play out knowing that the US government is going to treat them this way cause they always treat minorities this way, so your trading racism for xenophobia,

The government turns on them the very second they think they don't need them any more,

And they do it by saying oh we're granting them asylum but no more of them working with the military,

And then the CIA whose given control over taking down Decepticons, being it's gross bad self goes okay, but we're also going to hunt down and murder all the Autobots too,

Anyway this got away from me, Im just writing thoughts down before I lose em

*High Posting*

#high posting #transformers #bayverse transformers

[monterraverde]

I'm passing on the curse do multiples of 5.

dash commentary

//I love Dash comm when crazy shits happening. It sparks interactions that often times turn into long lasting mutuals. It's genuinely so funny and fun to do.

anons

//Curious anons are amazing! And I leave it on for people who're too shy to interact face to face. Personally I use Anon when I wanna bombard someone with memes and not blow up my own notifications in the process. I'll send one off anon too, though.

That said, I enjoy Anons in my inbox- I want more Anon questions and such!!

animated icons

//I mean if people really wanna put in the time and effort to make animated icons, more power to them. I use gif's occasionally in my posts when I wanna convey an epic moment- or just her pokemon talking, but I couldn't possibly drive myself that crazy to make all my icons animated.

violent threads

//ABSOLUTELY. Any time someone's willing to be the villain to my hero is always a treat. Be it physically fighting her or pokemon battles. I've always been a fan of the way PokeSpe handles its world, too, the raw reality of pokemon can be terrifying, and I seek to explore that when I can.

your character (Also asked by @orrerunaway )

//The only character that has given me a genuine Bisexual panic moment. Saw her appear in the gym and went ":000!!! Cute boy! Cute boy trainer!! Is he an elite too?!" And then Hassel introduced her and I went

"EXFUCKINGSCUSE ME?"

Then I grabbed my lesbian co-mod and we gushed about her for maybe like an hour lol. For what little we know about her, though, i do love her a lot, and I pray that she has even a tiny part in the DLC. AT LEAST LET ME FIGHT HER AGAIN, GAMFREAK!! GOD!! I DONT EVEN NEED THE INTERVIEW JUST LET ME FIGHT HER!!!

your choice!

//This community has genuinely grown so much from when I left it back in 2018 and im??? idk what to say about it other then that im so happy to be here. I love all my mutuals, everyone's so sweet and kind, y'all have made me cry out of joy on a couple occasions now and I just gfsdkj

I love it here;;

#long post cw #ooc: shiros talking