#I’m tearing my hair out

[dcangel]

that one void stiles laugh

[tenrqse]

thinking about how you can literally see clara’s love language shift from physical touch to words of affirmation between eleven and twelve. she adapts so many tiny things about the doctor into her own person and you don’t even realise how truly alike they become until you compare twelveclara to elevenclara. i feel so deranged over them you guys

[wewindondowntheroad]

would it be a last work day before a break without everything disintegrating around me?

[therandomhalfrussian]

If one more fucking bot spams me I’m gonna skewer someone like a kebab and eat them Hannibal style

[gavrannoir]

I am literally listening to a group of white men demand of each other things like, “name three songs by Mötley Crüe and ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’ doesn’t count. I want deep cuts.”

One of them just started listing guitarists.

“Led Zeppelin only has bangers.”

“Name three songs by The Who. Everyone thinks it’s called ‘Teenage Wasteland’ but it’s actually ‘Baba O’Riley’!”

The young guy in the group: “I only listen to metal.”

Everyone else: “Name three songs by Metallica”

Young guy: “…Enter Sandman?”

Me, internally: this dude is 24 at most and Metallica was already old when I was a kid. Why would he necessarily know Metallica songs??? He could listen to Amon Amarth! Or Royal Thunder! Or In This Moment! You don’t have to have complete knowledge to like a genre!

The dudes: “Name three Van Halen songs. Red Hot Chile Peppers! Green Day!” “How about Shinedown?”

Please send good vibes my way. I might perish.

[moongreenlight]

I love your work about the 141 gossiping about Ghost, love the concept of him having a “secret wife”.

Please please please write more with “secret wife y/n”, I beg of you. 🙏🏻

ANYTHING FOR YOU, ANON. <3 Ghost and secretwife!reader are my sweet babies I love them so much.

Tw: blond Simon & smiling Simon. Read at your own risk.

If there’s one thing Gaz knows how to do, it’s shut the fuck up. And if there was ever a time to employ that skill, it was now. Now after he’d been frozen watching the two of you reunite after a close call. After he’d discovered your dirty little secret. Suddenly feeling like Icarus after flying too close to the sun. Hurtling back down to earth. He was certain that when he moved there would be a crater under his feet where his stomach dropped.

He’d gone so green that another nurse came up and gently tugged on his arm to see if he was alright. He snapped his jaw shut, nodding and mumbling something that didn’t sound anywhere near reassuring. But he forced himself to leave the medbay. Left the two of you behind the curtain, where in his final glance back he saw that your feet were still neatly on top of Ghost’s big boots. Pushed up on your toes to be able to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He made some excuse not to meet with you that evening. Could barely look you in the eye when you caught him in the hall, looking significantly more cheery than you had been that morning. You pried, asking if he was alright, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand, but he claimed the stress of their mission had just hit him and he really needed to sleep.

It took him weeks to get over the initial shock. Couldn’t stand next to Ghost during conditioning. Made a point of sitting catty-corner to him during meetings and in transit so he had the least chances of accidentally catching his eye. Feeling like he’d deeply bastardized the idea of ‘Ghost.’ Blurred the lines between the man Gaz knew and the man he was in private.

He tried to reason with himself. Keep it fresh in his mind that he’d seen the signs, just hadn’t been able to fully connect the dots by himself. And it was an accident. He’d never intentionally pry into either of your personal lives like that. It wasn’t in his character. There was nothing innately wrong with the two of you hiding a marriage. Probably would have been an HR nightmare. Gotten both of you re-stationed. He was certain you both had a good reason to hide it. And there was no better person to find out than him. He’d actually be able to keep it a secret. Soap would immediately run his mouth. Get on the intercoms and scream the news as loud as he could. Price would pull the both of you aside and try to have some heart-to-heart. Not that it wouldn’t have been nice, it just would have felt too forced. Wouldn’t have served any real purpose.

So eventually he gets over it. Never pressed you about your marriage again, and you never seemed too keen on following up his request from months ago. The dust settles in his mind. He shelves the information like an old book. Life goes on.

And then the weather turns. Starts getting colder. The first few weeks of cold after summer where the wind stings a little more. Finds it’s way through jackets and uniforms a little more artfully. Soldiers are catching ill and passing it around like it’s a competition of who can infect the entire base. The medbay is busy, but a different kind of busy than summer when it’s an optimal time to see missions through.

The medics are tasked with rounding up all the soldiers on base and issuing flu vaccines to hopefully prevent further spread. You trudge to Price’s office in the early morning. He notices you look a little pale. The rims of your eyes and tip of your nose are blotchy. A gentle shade of pink that he assumes is from the weather or the cold you were bound to catch. You chat for a bit, catch up because you haven’t had the opportunity for a few weeks. Let him know that he and the boys need to make their way to the bay for their shots at some point.

You feel a little woozy. Pressing into his doorframe for support, white-knuckling it to keep yourself from swaying in your spot. He looks a little concerned. Asks if you need to take a few days away to recoup. You wave him off, tell him it’s nothing you can’t handle, but he insists on walking you back to medbay. And he’s glad he did because on the short walk back you find yourself having to duck into a dark meeting room so you can vomit into a trash can.

He keeps a steadying arm wrapped around your waist when you stumble back out into the hall. Shaking his head when you profusely apologize. Slowing his normally long strides so you were comfortable. Gently lets you down on your own cot and instructs you to stay where you are while he goes to find a few other doctors that can delegate your work for the day between them so you can have the day off.

He sends you home despite your protest. You’d already gotten your color back. Claimed you must’ve had something off to eat. He wasn’t having it. Said he wouldn’t have his best doctor spreading sick because she’s too stubborn to get off her feet for a few hours. He’s a bit more stern than usual because he knows you won’t listen otherwise, but he brings you a ginger ale and sits next to your bed until you’ve finished it.

Later that day, when he and the boys finally get around to the bay for vaccines, he notices the way Ghost’s eyes dart around like he was looking for something. His shoulders tensing when he sees your station empty, and moments after he’s taken his shot, Price sees that he’s slunk off to a corner to make a phone call.

He doesn’t think much of it. He’s been trying to give Ghost some space. So he just shrugs it off. Let’s him finish up whatever he’s doing before they get back to work.

The boys have gotten in the habit of taking a week off as the snow melts. Just before Spring brings rain and the soft buds of new leaves on the trees. Unofficial tradition proposed early on to have a few more days rest before things inevitably picked up again. Usually gave the boys time to kick off to visit family or get some well needed time away from base. Get in a well needed break because God knew they wouldn’t be able to for the foreseeable future.

Soap finds himself a little North of Manchester in his time off. Went out to see his godparents in Bolton for a couple days before getting back up to Iverness to see his parents. Meandering through a supermarket to pick up a bottle of wine for his godmother and a bottle of bourbon for himself. Could have sworn he saw Simon turning a corner at the end of the aisle. Chalked it up to a trick of the light. Seeing things after months of close quarters with his L.T.

But then he saw the man again. Stood in line at the butcher’s counter. No mask, but the same crooked nose and cropped blond hair. Same scar hooking his jaw. Swapped out his uniform and gear for a thick leather jacket, white shirt, and a pair of jeans. Would have been unrecognizable if Johnny didn’t know him so well.

He was about to head over to say hello. Make some wise crack about Ghost missing him too much, but he was stilled for a moment when a woman approached Simon. Pushed her cart up next to him and nudged his side with her hip. Prompted him to give her a small smile- the only smile Soap had ever seen Simon grace anyone with. No teeth, just a curve of his lips, but it changed his face completely.

Ghost said something to the woman. She reached up to fuss with the collar of his jacket. Johnny saw her shoulders shake slightly and heard the quiet tinkling sound of her laughter. Completely shell shocked. So imagine his surprise when the woman turned away from Ghost and it was you. Only you looked wildly different. He knew your face well enough, but after almost six months not going to the medbay on a weekly basis, something had changed.

Even wearing an oversized sweatshirt he could see the way it pulled taught against your swollen belly. Saw the way your arm was cradling it like second nature. He didn’t even realize that the bottle of wine had slipped from his fingers until he watched Simon’s head snap toward the sound. Ears perked. Tense like he’d suddenly flashed onto the battlefield. His eyes went wild for a moment as he scanned the busy aisle, calmed only a degree when he found you.

It’s like that Spider-Man meme where the three of them meet and point at each other. Johnny’s smiling sheepishly (for once), your jaw is dropped in surprise, and Simon is glaring daggers at Johnny like somehow it was his fault that you were all in the same place at once. You’re the first one to move. Rushing up to him as quickly as you could- now moving a bit awkwardly with the disproportionate weight of your pregnancy on your front. Asking if he was alright. Grabbing his hands to make sure the glass hadn’t cut him.

Simon tailed you like a hulking shadow. Glowering down at Soap something fucking ferocious. Didn’t even give him time to tell you he was fine. Pulling you back behind his arm by the wrists with a kind of gentleness Johnny had never known the L.T. to possess. You twisted your face in displeasure, batting his hands away and stepping back out from behind the wall that was your husband. Ignoring the wine and the soft crunch of glass under your shoes.

And to Soap’s absolute bafflement, Simon stood down. Didn’t try to yank you back, didn’t voice his protest, just drew his mouth into a hard line and let you push past him. He was speechless. For what well may have been the first time in his life, John MacTavish had no words. Couldn’t apologize for the mess. Couldn’t crack a joke. Couldn’t even say hello. He was pure dead at a loss.

Somehow, he allowed you to guide him away from the mess he’d made- staining the waxed tile a muted crimson even after the disgruntled looking employee came over to mop it up. Found his voice in your tugging him along after you and Simon to the checkout where you insisted you’d pay for the bottle of bourbon he’d managed not to send careening to the ground. Tried to tell you no, but you’d already sent it down the belt. And by the time you’d rooted through your purse in search of your card, Simon had already finished paying and was tucking his wallet into his back pocket.

Shuffled out with the two of you into the car park. Making a point of putting distance between himself and Simon who was pushing the cart with one hand and had the other planted firmly on the small of your back. Always walking on the side of oncoming traffic.

Johnny tried to keep up with your conversation. Asking him about his break. Where he was staying and for how long. How had he been. But it was tense. He could feel Ghost’s eyes on the back of his head. Burning through him. Making him feel like he had a target tacked to his skull.

He said a quick goodbye when Ghost helped you into the passenger seat of your car. You said you’d see him soon enough, said if he had any extra time before they went back he’d have to come by for dinner. Simon closed the door before you could say anything else. Looking monumentally irked.

The two men stood in suffocating silence while Simon unloaded the groceries into the trunk. Johnny tried to ignore the glinting of the silver band on the L.T’s finger. Caught the light every time he set a new bag in the back. A little unsure if he was being dismissed or if Ghost was just waiting until he was certain you wouldn’t hear the lashing he was bound to receive.

But it all stayed relatively calm. Maybe the eye of the hurricane. Simon pushed the bottle of bourbon into his chest before swinging the trunk shut.

“Appreciate if you’d keep this between us.”

Ghost spoke first, the words sounding a bit sticky in his throat- like they didn’t want to come out.

“‘Course.”

Johnny’s voice wasn’t much better. Both of them shifted on their feet. Not use to this kind of conversation. Uncomfortable being pushed from their usual dynamic.

Simon just nodded, moving to push the cart back to the corral. Johnny followed.

“How long you been keepin’ this in?”

“Which bit.”

His response was flat.

“Dinnae, L.T. Seems yer a man o’ mystery these days.”

Soap prodded, unable to help himself. A smile crept into his voice.

“Don’t push it.”

Simon bit back.

“Bonnie thing for a brute like you.”

“Johnny.”

“Looks ready’ta pop.”

A harsh sigh from Ghost. He reached into his jacket pocket like he was going for a cigarette. Tightening his jaw when his hand showed back up empty. He hummed his agreement.

“Few months.”

They’d reached Johnny’s car by this point. Just a few rows over in the car park. Stood by his driver’s side door shuffling their feet once more.

“Ken it’ll turn out like you?”

He couldn’t help but ask. Never pictured Ghost the fatherly type, but the idea was growing on him now that it’d been planted in his mind.

“Hope not.”

Simon gruffed back. Johnny snorted.

“Boy o’ girl?”

This earned him a nasty look, but he figured he was in deep enough as it was. No harm in asking.

“Girls.”

[grayintogreen]

IM SORRY BUT I CANNOT BE STOPPED OR SILENCED I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS AND NOWHERE TO PUT THEM BUT HERE. Don’t come for me.

Anyway.

What’s fucking amazing is how Gunn set up Rocket’s inventions to ALWAYS be one of the primary things that save the day, which is so meaningful given his VERY FIRST invention he made all on his own with no input from anyone else got his friends killed in front of him. He’s viewed that key as an albatross around his neck for a decade or so.

But in GotG the Hadron Enforcer is what gets the stone out of Ronan’s hammer so Peter can grab it.

In Vol 2 the aerorigs are a key component to the Guardians’ kit but it’s the bomb he builds with the Sovereign’s batteries that kills Ego.

It’s a little more understated in Vol 3, but Nebula makes a POINT to say Rocket built her new arm which was crucial in multiple conflicts (overriding the ship, stabbing Adam to get him to stop wrecking shop, etc.) And the thing that saves Rocket’s life when the High Evolutionary is rag-dolling him? Those gravity boots he was playing with in the opening scene.

Of course the story was always about Rocket. He’s the one who gives everyone the tools they need to win. He failed once to save his friends with an invention and that’s NEVER going to happen again.

[riaki]

megumi seems like the type of guy to rlly get out of his comfort zone n go out of his way to do something romantic for u just bc he feels like u deserve it and then get rlly embarrassed about it later when u bring it up all flushed like “shut the fuck up” n then if u keep teasing him he’ll just pretend nothing happen and then just straight up ignore/ghost u until u apologize… but he will absolutely fold if u do that lil thing where you take his bigger hands in urs and play with his fingers. call him gumi paired with a kiss to the nose and he goes so weak for u he does the whole thing all over again. bonus points if u let him put his head in your lap and run your fingers through his thick dark hair. ur sea urchin bf goes from all mumbles and grumbles to a melty puddle with u <3

“megs—“ ”no.” “gumi, please.” [then he catches your hand and brings it to his lips, hiding behind his fingers and looking away as a pleasant strawberry flush spreads across his cheeks and stains his pale ears red.] “just shut up.”

[antithcsis]

when sleep token said “i can see you in my fate” and “i’m a winged insect, you’re a funeral pyre” and “yet in reverse you are all my symmetry, a parallel i would lay my life on” and “so if your wings won’t find you heaven i will bring it down like and ancient bygone” and “i know for the last time, you will not be mine, so give me the night” and “i’m caught up in her design and how it connects to mine” and “i was more than just a body in your passenger seat, and you were more than just somebody i was destined to meet” and.

[goatpunches]

halfway through volume 1 and I already feel abnormal about this man

[lucydacusgirl]

I don’t know when, just saying it could even make it happen

[myfriendfaust]

Spoilers for asteroid city under the cut because I need to talk about a scene I keep thinking about.

I only noticed this the second time I watched it but in the scene where Augie is reciting the lines for Midge’s scene and she tells him to ‘use his grief’ she’s not just talking to the character of Augie but his actor too… there’s this little moment that is maybe the most important meta break in the whole film, because they both hesitate and the look on their faces reflects that they know. It’s a little moment of empathy between the actors, who are both mourning their playwright in the real world. It’s them processing that grief through their characters as their characters are also doing the same within the text of the play. “You can’t wake up if you don’t go to sleep”, for them, means exploring their emotions through their art, both within the context of asteroid city and outside of it.

[shorthaltsjester]

free my complex female character, she did the same thing as complex male characters but the fandom takes Any analysis of her actions/choices/motivations that doesn’t strip her of all of her agency in bad faith and claims that only misogynists would dare to critique the things that they’ve noticed in her character because she’s a woman, completely ignoring the over-presence of discourse about similarly traited male characters in their fandom.

[simplyghosting]

Friendly reminder to wash/wipe down any plushies you have occasionally. ESPECIALLY if you sleep with them.

[utterlybrainwrecked]

I AM IN SHAMBLES. SOMEONE FIGURE OUT HOW TO TAKE CARE OF TYLER? WHAT THE HELL???? WHY IS HE STILL BLEEDING WHAT IS HE OKAY WHAT WHAT WHAT

AUGHHAHAHHHHHHHHH RED WHYY ARE YOU DOING THIS

(Hugging all of the SBG kids)

[eddiebuckley-diaz]

Head empty except this