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this is the funniest thing anyone in the cod community has said in months

Ghost can not only do a perfect handstand and *walk* on his hands—he's mastered the art of *running* on his hands, as well.

Multiple recruits *have* pissed themselves due to this.

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literally me

How tf do people post consistently. I don't get it. Sometimes I can write and write and write for hours. At other times it takes me like three months to write like three paragraphs what is wrong with me asdfghjk

Jk i know what's wrong. I have adhd i'm not medicated for it so I can't focus on anything ever at all. But it's still annoying. I don't understand how people can just post one chapter a week and do it consistently. Its freaking crazy

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i'm part of this!! ik i usually write for frouse and have lowkey been dead lately (update on that soon i promise) but this project has been fun so if you're interested in the triplets, hn, or s&c, please go follow the journey!!

And if I said a couple of friends and I were working on a major collab fic with the Triplets, Sam and Colby, Haunted Nights, and YouTube based on the 3 of us, what would you guys say abt that.... would you want to read it??

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this explains why i haven't posted in a while

writing is so funny because i could write nonstop for 9hrs and then hit a block where im like "how do i transition between this moment and the next?" and then i just dont touch it for 6 months

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Doodles

Sharpie was everywhere. It always was, to be quite honest. Faded and fresh, smudged and clean, all sorts of designs lined your arms and legs.

Anywhere you had easy access to your own skin.

Most of it was black ink, as it was the most prevalent sharpie color by far-and the cheapest-but there were swaths of color across your body as well. From pastel pinks and blues to deep reds and greens.

You were your own canvas.

Whether you were bored, anxious, or simply had an idea you wanted to sketch out before actually attempting it on paper or canvas later, you'd pull one of the trusty markers out of your pocket and start drawing wherever you had free space or a long-faded drawing from earlier in the week. It was something you'd been doing since you were a kid. Much to your parents' dismay, of course.

The lectures never ended back then. "You're going to get ink poisoning." "Look at yourself, you look like a mess!" "What happened to perfectly good paper, huh?" "Go wash that off right now." But now, now you were an adult.

Living in your own place, making your own money, taking your own risks with your own sharpies on your own skin. Sometimes you only had a blue or red pen on hand and it didn't work as well, but you made do. You just preferred sharpie.

It was especially helpful around work. Every week, without fail, you'd have some sort of To Do list or shopping list inked onto your forearm. It kept your mind free of some of the excess clutter.

And ink poisoning wasn't a worry so long as it didn't get into a cut or your mouth for some reason.

Although, chewing on the ends of markers while you were thinking always heightened that risk.

The guys knew that you did this. Hell, it was hard not to. Because of the designs on the back of your hands, you woke up with faded imprints on your cheek. And it was basically impossible to break the habit of resting your chin on your hands or arm, leading to a lot of laughter and pointing out that you-yet again-had sharpie on your face.

Sometimes they'd even let you draw on them while you were all hanging out or doing IRL streams with each other. It helped you stay focused on the moment or get an incessant idea out of your head.

All four of them thought it was silly, a fun little habit of yours, but one in particular found it enamoring.

He always found himself entranced by you whenever you were working on a more complicated drawing. The doodles were cute, though some of them were hard to define exactly what they were. And whenever you were writing reminders for yourself, he always found himself smiling.

It was a little more obvious than he seemed to think. He didn't realize that you noticed and would lean or turn towards him a little so it was easier for him to see. He didn't realize that the rest of the guys noticed and were grinning amongst each other on the daily about it.

He didn't realize that the fans noticed.

Of course they did. The way he watched you like you hung the stars in the sky, the little smile like nothing made him happier, the constant peeking to see if you were about to start a new doodle, the way he'd actually go quiet when watching you.

He'd been painfully obvious to everyone but the two of you. You simply took it as him appreciating your art. All the guys did. Puffer always asked for your take on his little mascot, Grizzy liked to ask you for thumbnails when you had free time, and Pezzy always let you draw on his arm when you ran out of space and never fully tried to wash them away.

But Droid, you assumed, just liked to watch the process of you drawing. You never brought a sketchbook and pencil anywhere, but you were always drawing something. He'd asked you about it a long time ago and your answer had been simple.

"Less stuff to carry."

Yes, he loved your art, but he'd started to realize he was more for the artist than the art itself.

It all came together one day you were all sitting in Puffer's office, streaming from his account. You'd lost track of what even started this fiasco, just that him and Grizzy were currently at the monitor rating setups while you, Pezzy, and Droid sat in the background.

You and Pezzy made comments here and there as you would look up from your current masterpiece-a sprawling mandala of purple and black on Max's forearm.

Droid, though, was quiet. Just watching you draw. It had started as a flower but had soon spun out of control and Puffer and Grizzy continued their shenanigans at the desk.

You couldn't leave until the rest of them decided they were ready, though, as you'd driven the other three fools to Puffer's house just for funsies.

Suddenly a dono came flooding through Puffer's speakers, setting the dominos hurtling down.

"Look at how Droid is looking at X. Our boy is whipped."

Your eyes shot up from your work to see Puffer and Grizzy staring at where the three of you sat in the background. Jaime had been to your right but while you were drawing on Pezzy, he'd ended up behind you so you couldn't see him until you turned.

When you did, you found a sight that surprised you more than the risky donation.

Jaime's face was bright red as he tried to hide in his hands, but his ear and neck gave him away. Puffer attempted damage control, banning the person for being a jerk and distracting stream, but you and Max shared a look, unsure of what to do.

Your heart was hammering.

Max was your closest friend and if he had no idea what to do, neither did you. Slowly, you let go of his arm and capped your purple marker before spinning to Jaime, encouraging him to look at you.

He barely peeked at you before getting up and leaving the room.

And without pause you followed.

Neither of you saw the look the other three men shared.

He didn't stop until he was on the living room couch and you followed, giving him space but staying close enough to speak softly.

"Hey, it's okay. Chat can be full of assholes sometimes. Some of them get too caught up in what they think they see."

"That's not-" He paused, unsure of where to go before heaving a sigh that makes his shoulders droop. "I know. But I guess they weren't really seeing things that aren't there."

That puts you on pause for a moment. "...wait, what?"

He finally looked up at you, face still burning red, but resolve firm in his eyes. "They're not wrong."

"You just like watching me draw." You shook your head, brow furrowed. Your brain was on overdrive trying to catch up to what he seemed to be saying. "Nothing else."

"Really?" He scooted a bit closer to you, taking your hand in his. "You really think that's all?"

"I-I thought so." Your eyes widened a bit. "Though now I'm not so sure." That got him to laugh a bit, which brought your own smile to your face. "Don't laugh at me!"

"Yes I like watching you draw, but I just like watching you." It was silent for a second before he panicked. "Wait! That came out wrong, that wasn't supposed to sound creepy I swear!"

It was your turn to laugh. He gasped at you, putting his free hand to his chest. "Now who's laughing at who?"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." The two of you shared an easy grin. Your face flamed as much as his but you focused instead on pulling a blue sharpie out of your pocket and drawing on the back of his hand.

It was small, just a simple heart you colored in, but it was enough.

He knew. You knew.

"You, know," you said, "you could've told me before some chatter decided to play matchmaker."

"Wait, really?"

You looked back up at him and cupped his cheeks, grinning like an idiot.

"Duh, you dork. I like watching you, too." Another easy laugh went between the two of you before he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

A voice made you two jump apart, though.

"Get a room! And preferably not in my house!"

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two scary guard dogs

added to my store

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yall i'm fucking crying, my local news has a story about how booktok is helping barnes & noble and other book stores/chains rise in popularity again and how the romantasy genre is having a positive affect on women

i love the literary community man

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Jason: Are you a newspaper?

Tim: No, why?

Jason: Because there’s a new issue with you every fucking day.

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me holding a gun to a mushroom: tell me the name of god you fungal piece of shit

mushroom: can you feel your heart burning? can you feel the struggle within? the fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. you cannot kill me in a way that matters

me cocking the gun, tears streaming down my face: I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU

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i never expected this

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Kevin the Kitten and Satan the Cat 🖤 Artist: 📸@vanessastockard

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some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

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high handlebar motorcycle but in the office

One of my co-workers has a standing desk that he uses sitting down. It looks like this

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*after discussing a plan*

Jason: Does anyone have any questions?

Tim: Is this legal?

Jason: Does anyone have any relevant questions?

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i am quite literally a 2003 corolla

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*pounds a monster at 9pm* why can't I ever sleep at night