#Transportable Fire Pit

[myfireaustralia]

Innovative Campfire Design

The unit stands on 4 short legs in a 8L tray of water, for safety & so fire can be put out quickly if needed. How? - by inverting the unit (using two of the hooked bars) so that all of the hot contents fall into the water filled tray & is completely extinguished.

[sinning-23]

Fishbowl (Buggy x Siren!Reader)

I hope you guysss like this one lol it’s been in the works for a minute and is one of the last in the siren/mermaid series! Also sorry for any spelling errors! This one with be a two part red and definitely some angst? Or at least I’ll try lol angst isn’t exactly my specialty!

Anyway, ENJOY!

Your nails claw at the glass, leaving scrapes and indents in their wake. After being captured by these pirates, you were transported to a large glass dome on wheels. You were panicking, the screeching from your echolocation making passerby’s of the crew cover their ears and double over.

Why you? You hadn't even been by the ship...they just pulled up to the shore of your home island firing cannons as your sisters swam for cover. You directed them, helping them escape only to be grabbed by the hair an dragged to the shore before you could make your escape.

Any mermaid knew what happened when they were captured.... fin scales used for jewelry, the rich meat of your tails used in rare dishes. The your teeth would be grinder down to pearl like where’s, drilled for necklaces. Nausea builds in the pit of your stomach. This was it.

He approached you, lifting you by your hair as your gills opens and close at the side of your neck, an unpleasant, wet sounding “gasp” filling the silence.

“What a treat. My audience is gonna love you.”

You swallow hard, native tongue sliding off with venom. He sneers at this.

“Too bad I can’t understand you sweets.” Buggy chuckles.

He’s got your arm in an uncomfortable grip as he drags you across the sand and flings you into another crewmate. I’m some kind of silent agreement the carry you across the sandy beach to the temporary tank. Your stomach turns, glittery tears falling down your cheeks.

Currently, you keep clawing, scratching, and screeching, and the glass begins to crack at this latest noise. You needed to get out. But before you can fix your voice to scream again, he enters.

"Please shut your mouth sweetheart. You're not going anywhere.” He explains with a roll of his eyes.

You speak again, and of course, he can understand but it’s something along the lines of,

“I’ll kill you when I get out of here.”

_____4 months______

You scratched a tally for each day you were there, the fishbowl now adorned with a stand and a pretty label in fancy blue ribbon and gold paint. He forced you to act in his shows, putting your gifted set of pipes “to good use”. Even though your siren song was powerful, its intended purpose seemed to fade away.

Every song you sang, the sorrow of being captured poured into your notes, making the audience ever more mournful than they already were. Your songs and performances almost always ended in tears now, Buggy’s crew opting to wear earplugs in fear they’d end their lives then and there if they heard one more melancholic tune.

Buggy, on the other hand, was beginning to grow ever impatient. The first two months of shows had gone just fine! His crew and audience were so enamored by your beauty and sound. Now it was just pitiful. But even though it pissed him off his own decisions led to failure, he couldn’t help but want your gorgeous set of pipes to himself.

Often, he’s caught himself in a daze, wondering what it feels like to have you sing him to sleep, your hands caressing his face with a smile and he pulls into a sense of security. Fat chance though…

Besides, you hadn’t even really been properly introduced since that day he surprise adopted you(kidnapped). Perhaps he should make conversation? He shakes his head at the thought, sitting in his designated chair, just watching.

Your scales flash and flicker sparkles of light in the empty tent. Maybe that’s why he captured you in the first place? You were beautiful. And his did he love seeing those pretty glittery tears roll down your cheeks when you’d first met.

A smile plays over his lips when you catch him staring, your eyes narrowing for a moment before you press against the glass, blowing bubbles at him from under the water. You say something he can’t quite hear.

In a curious haze, he stands, walking up to your fishbowl, looking at each tally you’d engraved into the glass.

“Why won’t you let me go?” You hum, the water making your voice somehow sound prettier that ever, the slight muffle making him hum.

“Because I like sad songs.” He jokes, circling your glass prison.

How typical of him, to joke in a serious situation like this, well serious to you at least. He really takes time to observe you, the way your scales seem to be some sort of opalescent chrome.

How your hair floats around your face, your gills opening and closing ever so slightly. He admires the smaller fins adorning your spine and forearms. He wonders if you’re insecure about them.

“Sing for me.”

It’s a demand, and before you can protest, he’s already back in his chair, watching, resting his head against his closed fist.

Even though you feel obligated, your voice and song feel softer now. Almost as if the small interaction with the captain had only slightly lifted your spirit.

And somehow your hymn didn’t seem so dismal.

[jd07201990]

One might think I went a little overboard when I used my talents, to give my old college buddy Charles Wentworth II, the son he'd always wanted. Life threw him a curveball when his little boy just, stayed little. It took only 8 months to change that.

At 19, he was almost fae. 5'4" 110lbs soaking wet, the 3rd Charles in the line was thin, lithe, soft-tempered and good mannered. Clean and neat, always top of his class, the boy was head of the Student Council in High School, when his Father hoped he'd have excelled in Football, the same as his old man.

Charles II knew I'd gone into psychiatry out of college, majoring in Behavioral Studies with a minor in biochemistry. He'd seen what I could do to a person with just 10 minutes of talking. Out like a light, I'd fill their heads with all sorts of triggers, innocent fun to make the guys in the dorms laugh.

But Charles II knew where my interests really were. Behavioral Modification. He'd only seen this one time during our school days, when I tranced Jimmy Palter, the school's most annoying nerd, and by graduation, he'd packed on 50lbs, mostly in his belly, dressed like a hick, and went off to drive Big-Rigs across the country, adding notches to his creaking belt as he screwed his way across country, bedding pretty Diner girls as he hauled goods for my Dad's transport company. Last I'd checked, he was still trucking, with a wife and 5 kids somewhere out west.

Anyway, the strapping young stud you see here, with absolutely no intelligent thought behind those handsome eyes, is Charles Wentworth III. Or, as he preffers now, Chett. Sometimes his football buddies call him Chetworth, but one headlock with their faces pressed to his sweaty pits is enough to stop even the strongest of them, at least for a while. He's an aggressive, hot-blooded powerhouse, and doesn't let anyone forget it.

It had only taken an hour to wriggle my influence into his good natured, innocent mind. His father had asked him to come see me, and an hour later, the boy was thrilled to have sessions with me every day for the foreseeable future. I'd given him a perscription for what he was convinced were vitamins, but were really prototype HGH and Testosterone boosters a friend at a Pharma-Lab in Serbia gives to, well, select clientelle, with the agreement that we send the results asap. Some of this stuff may as well be nuclear Hormone-bombs, its no wonder the FDA refuses to even look at it!

So, A month in, and the boy was a nervous wreck. Trembling with excess energy, his feet tapped anciously during the first sessions, the supplements and my trances sending his body into overdrive. He said he felt like he was on fire, all the time, hot and clammy, and that his body tingled, pent up, wound tight like a spring. I let him suffer with this for a few weeks, I watched as the confusion led to annoyance, and he finally came to my office in the middle of the day, skipping class for the first time in his life, asking me for help. I tried to hid the wicked smirk on my face, and really got down to it. It was easy to drop him down into trance, and from there, My work really began.

4 months in, Chett had gotten a bit of weight on him, his body now tight and toned, working out alone when the gym was empty. The supplements really kicked his body into overdrive, sweat poured from him, soaking his shirts and shorts. He'd complained about it for only a short time, until I convinced him that was the smell of Effort. Of athletic Prowess. Of well-worked Male. As usual, anything I said became the truth, and I soon found him taking sniffs of himself after working out, flexing absentmindedly as he noticed the changes to his body.

By the 6th month, the supplements had shot through his body, setting it into a second puberty of sorts. He grew taller, hitting 6', his legs long with a solid densness that rivaled some of the soccer players. His torso was like a marble statue, each muscle easily traced, as he had very little bodyfat. The Chett was stuffing himself with pritein and calories at my suggestion, really pushing for some size, but his pesky metabolism just wouldn't let him bulk. His father decided that, "Behemoth" as the original plan had intended, wasn't necessary, and we went with "Classic All American Boy" instead. What began as a shrimpy welp, turned into a marble stature, then the beginnings of a diamond-cut stud.

His shoulders widened, giving him that perfect masculine taper, while his face lost its boyish softness, replaced with sharper, more intensly sharp features. His size 7s grew quickly, his feet ruinding sneakers left and right, until he'd leveled off at a wide size 13. His chest began to grow a smattering of hair, his pits were thick, dense wiry bushes. He had that Pretty-Boy look. Fuzzy in all the right places. Sure, he reeked like a Varsity Locker room, but hey, Charles II wanted an athletic son, he knows from our own college days what that entials.

I could see the Sorority Girls and cheerleaders beginning to take notice, but for now, I'd kept Chett firmly away from women. That would come later. I recieved several new prototype supplements, each targeting a different system of the body. By the time he'd finished taking these, he was 6'2" 170, a tall, well built stallion, with nothing but the gym and my trances to quell the neverending storm of energy and hormones flooding his system. He was pent up, on edge, ready to go off anytime. And I knew just what I had to do.

I'd had him on edge for the last 8 monnths. his grades slipped until he nearly got ckicked from school. Luckily, I miraculously had a place for him on the Football team. And he eagerly joined, wanting nothing more than to try and burn off all the aggression on the field. He was a beast from his first practice, I'd programmed everything he'd ever need to know about the game into his mind for months. He absolutley plowed through opponents. It was incredible to see.

I finally let the damn break after a hard-fought summer Game. he'd performed just as I expected. Like a perfectly trained, expert player. Nobody would ever guess Chett had ever been a weedy little boy. Expecially not after I'd set him loose, allowing him to notice the girls all over the field, cheering and buoncing about from player to player. when Sandra Rinaldi, heir to an immense national Grocer's fortune slid up to him, pushing the sweaty hair from his eyes, he couldn't help it. One look at her, and he pounced, kissing her hard right there in the field. 8 months of hormones and denial had been released.

From what I learned through locker room talk in the days following, Chett had given Sandra quite the workout that night, and every day since. Although the two weren't exclusive, Chett tending to get his dick wet anytime, anywhere, with anyone just as programmed, Chett seemed to have a natural incling toward her, and ended up asking her to marry him just after graduation, his father thrilled at the possibility of grandkids and Sandra's inheritence bolstering their own family's fortune.

From tiny waif of a boy, to a true blue American Stud, Charles Wentworth III was now both satisfied and thrilled with his family's future. His strapping, handsome Jock of a son made him proud, cleaning up well for his father to parade him around Gala's and business events, other big-wigs taking notice of the Wentworth's "good genes", not knowing what it took to build the boy up as you see here.

[headspace-hotel]

Minecraft Tips

or, a list of things about Minecraft that took me forever to figure out, that might not be obvious to new players, or that I just found helpful

Equal parts gravel and dirt can be crafted into coarse dirt, and using a hoe on coarse dirt changes it to normal dirt, so you can effectively change gravel into dirt if you have at least 2 dirt blocks with you

I know the game technically teaches you this BUT: you can cure zombie villagers by hitting them with a splash weakness potion and then feeding them a golden apple. This is an easy way to populate a village you built yourself, I've done it in all my survival worlds. The easiest way to protect newly potioned and appled villagers is to dig a long trench, get the zombie villager to chase you, circle the pit until the villager falls in, and cover the pit so no mobs attack the zombie villager when it changes into a villager.

Killing fish is a pretty good way to get bones. I don't need a skeleton farm because automatic fish farms are probably among the easiest automatic farms to build

drinking milk stops status effects

Tiny slimes can't damage you. You can keep them as pets.

The fastest transportation method is, for some reason, a boat on blue ice. Many horses are faster than powered rails.

Suspicious stew can be crafted, even though it's not part of the creative inventory or recipe book, using the normal recipe for mushroom stew+one flower. Allium gives a couple seconds of fire resistance, poppy gives night vision, cornflower gives jump boost, blue orchids or dandelions give saturation, and oxeye daisy gives regeneration.

A lot of wooden items—fences, doors, bows, fishing poles, and so on—can be used as fuel in furnaces. It's not efficient but it's a good way to get rid of excess items

Sneak to add blocks to the side of a furnace or chest directly. Do y'all have any idea how long this took me to figure it out. (This is also how you add a hopper to a chest.)

gold or iron armor can be melted down into gold and iron nuggets

The fortune enchantment affects sapling drops from trees and crop harvests.

Early in game, smelting copper into ingots is one of the best ways to get XP fast.

Fishing odds are slightly better when it's raining.

When you first get a full set of diamond armor your first instinct may be to wear it on a quest into the Nether. Don't. Take a couple stacks each of gravel/sand and any stone and run repeated suicide missions until you've made a stone shelter around your portal and paths across surrounding lava lakes.

More nether navigation tricks: drop columns of gravel down precipices in the Nether and then add cobblestone to the side of the gravel columns to build stairs from the top down

If your nether portal goes out while you're in the Nether, a Ghast fireball hitting the inside of the frame will relight it. But please don't get caught in the Nether without flint and steel

Lava breaks your fall much like water does, and you can't drown in it, though it's very hard to move in. Fire resistance potions will let you exploit both of these things.

Fill a basalt delta with three- or four-block-high towers of whatever block you like, two blocks apart, in staggered rows. Occasionally place a block on the side of the towers' top blocks. This won't stop magma cubes from spawning, but it will stop the large ones from moving effectively.

Using silk touch to grab the red and blue "turf" layers in Nether forests lets you farm both kinds of giant nether fungi by bone-mealing mushrooms, though the turf colors and mushroom colors have to match up. The growth is unaffected by obstructions above and the fungus "foliage" blocks never decay like leaves do. I have no idea who thought that was a good idea. BUT doing this repeatedly will eventually completely obstruct the "sky", protecting you from Ghasts

Nether fortresses and bastions are found along a "grid" pattern, so when you find one nether fortress you can travel in a straight line to find another fortress or bastion. Villages do the same thing, except when they don't. (Really, how villages spawn is a total mystery to me.)

Bonemealing moss will straight up convert surrounding stone into moss. I have no idea why. Since bone meal can be automated using a dropper iirc, this seems like it could lead to some weird redstone contraptions.

Horses can survive falls that would seriously damage a player.

Animals can and will climb ladders. I don't know why. But if you push a sheep or cow toward a ladder, they will often automatically ascend it. I've used this fact for automatic farms before.

You can name literally anything using an anvil, even if you can't repair or enchant it

Soul sand placed underwater creates bubble columns that shoot you upward. Magma blocks create bubble columns that pull you down. You can breathe in the bubble columns.

Night vision potions, if you've never used one, will also let you see the ocean floor.

A water source block in an "ocean" biome will spawn ocean animals, whether there is room for them there or not. If you change a section of ocean into a one-block-deep pond, you'll still get fish in there

you probably won't like this one but. keep a notebook with the coordinates of important spots it is SO HELPFUL

I'll add more when I think of them. please note that I play bedrock and some of these might not work in java

[teenidlegirl]

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ┆ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ it was a regular, normal day for you until you fell victim of the infamous green goblin. a familiar suit of red and dark blue comes to your rescue but his attitude completely catches you off guard.

. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ fluff, angst, violence, swearing, mentions of death, mentions of blood

❛⠀ masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

another normal day of life.

another normal day in nueva york.

another normal day of work.

the irritating sound of your alarm wakes you from delicious slumber. a groan of annoyance escapes your lips, resting a hand on your forehead as your eyes adjust to the sunlight illuminating your room. reaching over to your nightstand, the alarm finally stops at the touch of a button on your phone. you stare up at the ceiling, indulging in a moment of solitude before resuming to the routines of life.

inhaling and exhaling deeply, you finally get out of bed and begin your morning routine. since you take showers at night, getting dressed and breakfast are the only things you have to do. after getting dressed in one of your favorite outfits and doing your makeup, you decide to snack on leftover pizza from last night as breakfast. the last bit of your routine was brushing your teeth. once that was taken care of, you packed your tote bag with personal items and headed out the door to start your day.

most days prior to heading to work, you visit the local café for your usual coffee and croissant sandwich. flying vehicles soar in the sky as you walk over to the café. although you live in a futuristic society with heavily advanced technology, including transportation, a bit of exercise doesn’t hurt. the clicking of your heels echos amongst the crowd of people on the sidewalk as you walked.

you finally arrived at the café and entered. the moment you stepped inside, the barista recognized you with a smile and starts working on your order. after paying your order and waiting a few minutes for your coffee, one of the employees calls out your name. you thank him with a soft smile as you take your coffee from his grasp. standing off to the side by where the little counter of creams and sugar are, you take a small sip to test the flavor. a soft hum of approval and delightfulness escapes your lips at the delicious taste of your coffee. “perfect.”

after saying bye and thanking the barista and the other workers, you exit the café and start walking. while walking and sipping coffee, a sudden loud noise of explosion erupts from behind. a loud gasp erupts from your throat as you covered your head with your arms, protecting yourself from the sudden impact. the smell of fire and smoke fills your senses. blinking your eyes a few times to regain focus, you turned around and looked at the source of the explosion. it was the café, now demolished.

a gasp of horror spills from your trembling lips. unfamiliar faces run past you, desperately escaping the chaotic scenery. adrenaline flows through your body at a wild rate as panic takes over your now fragile mind. what the fuck just happened? your glossy eyes filled with panicked tears scan the area, your body shaking and chest heaving due to heavy breathing. your body desperately tells you to run but your apprehensive and selfless mind wants to help those who are injured. without hesitation, you bolted to the café, disregarding your coffee by tossing it to the floor. fires and smoke erupts from the now demolished café, the sounds of painful whines and coughing echoing in your ears. not only there were fire and debris, a few lifeless bodies lie on the ground with puddles of blood oozing from underneath them. oh your heart aches at the unfortunate sight. those poor innocent souls. carefully avoiding the small pits of fire, you help survivors get out to safety.

a manic laugh echoes the around the building. glimpses of green can be seen flying in the air from the windows and holes. those features seemed very familiar, especially that laugh.

the infamous green goblin.

your eyes widen in realization; another one. as you assist the last survivor out of the café, a small gold ball with a green light flickering at a rapid speed lands on the floor close to you from outside.

as you braced yourself for the inevitable by covering yourself with your arms, you felt a pair of muscular arms securely wrapped around you. the sensation of wind blowing in your face was a sign that you were no longer in danger. very slowly, you opened your glossy eyes and looked up at a familiar figure in red and dark blue. the famous savior of nueva york.

once you were from a safe distance, the tall hero carefully sets you down on your feet. “thanks, spidey.” you flashed him a soft smile.

“¿estas tonta? why the hell did you go back there?! you could’ve gotten killed!” spider-man hissed with annoyance and frustration laced in his tone, the eyes of his mask narrowing at you with a definite pissed off expression underneath it.

well damn — he’s got an attitude and you were not expecting him to be rude right off the bat. definitely not a charming knight in shining armor. well, it was pretty stupid of you to wander into danger but your selfless spirit said otherwise.

“well sorry for wanting to help others. they were trapped and scared.” you hissed back, placing your hands on your hips in a sassy manner.

you two are arguing like you know each other or like a married couple. to be honest, it feels kinda weird but you decide not to comment about it since he’s pissing you off right now.

the acclaimed hero looks at you with a dumbfounded expression underneath the mask, astounded by your sassiness. great, you’re stubborn, he thought. he scoffs, you can tell he rolled his eyes under the mask. “help yourself before others. dying by your own stupidities is embarrassing.”

jeez — this guy is a real asshole.

before you could say something in return, that familiar manic laugh echoes the area, causing the man dressed in red and blue to turn around in the direction of the laughter. three other spider-people swing after the green goblin variant.

spider-man turns back facing you. “stay out of trouble, idiota.” he states sternly, murmuring that last part before swinging away, joining the other spider-people afar to deal with the villain.

a scoff of offense escaped your lips, jaw dropped. how dare he call you an ‘idiot.’ what an asshole. how the hell is that guy the hero of this city? honestly, you rather die by a villain’s hand than be saved by that asshole. hopefully you won’t run into him again, but if you do, you’ll give him a piece of your mind.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

it was one hell of a battle but they captured the goblin and the multiverse is still intact. however, for some unexplainable reason, his mind retraced back to the ridiculous interaction with you from earlier. how stupid were you to walk straight into danger? got a death wish or something? sure, you provided the basic excuse of helping others in need. very selfless and caring of you, proving you’re a decent person with a kind heart. but what bothers miguel so much is that you were willing to sacrifice yourself to help others. he doesn’t even understand why it bothers him so much. he doesn’t know you, nor you do him. miguel is spider-man, performing his duties as the hero of nueva york. tackling and collecting villain variants and anomalies for maintaining the multiverse. acting as leader of the spider society. ensuring the safety of the people.

yes, he has saved numerous lives in various situations. so why were you any different? you’re just a regular civilian who was in need of saving from danger, even by your own stupidity.

sure, your sassy attitude completely caught him off guard. miguel was so dumbfounded that he didn’t believe you were being serious, arguing with him of all people. himself arguing with you of all people, a random civilian he doesn’t know.

“all caught up in that big grumpy head of yours?” lyla interrupts his thoughts, magically appearing in front of him with arms crossed and a playful smirk.

miguel groans in annoyance, rolling his eyes. “funny.” he deadpanned, ignoring her presence by looking at the various orange screens in front of him.

the ai’s eyes narrowed, examining his expression. “you seem strange. what were you thinking of? or i should say, who were you thinking of?”

he can sense the smirk on her face grow wilder, making him internally groan. “no one, end of discussion.” his crimson eyes remained glued on the orange screens, still ignoring the ai.

she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “oh come on, big guy. you were thinking about her, the sassy lady.”

that finally made him look at her, lightly glaring with those crimson eyes. “cállate before i shut you off.” he threatens with gritted teeth, fangs showing.

lyla raised her hands in the air in defense. “what? i’m simply stating facts. it’s just i’ve never seen you cared so much for a civilian before with all that yelling and basically reprimanding her.” she lowers her hands before lightly shrugging.

“lyla.” miguel said in a warning tone, shooting a light glare at the ai assistant.

“just saying, boss.” she offers a smile before vanishing in the air, leaving him with his thoughts.

well, she isn’t wrong. you are just a regular civilian yet he reprimanded you like a child, arguing with someone like he knows. hopefully you actually listened to him and try avoiding trouble in the future. the last thing miguel wants is saving you from your own stupidity once again. and to deal with your sassy demeanor. hopefully that’ll be the last time he’ll see you, but if he does under stupid circumstances like today, miguel will give you a piece of his mind.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[angelbitezzz]

I did mention that the Dancetale pair were like one of the first to start dating and I thought it'd be really funny if the hypothetical universe meetup had the pair from classic Undertale before they got together because they took it so slow

Angel stared at the two in front of her, jaw almost touching the floor. Her face felt hot, eyes nearly popping out of her head. She didn't look at the skeleton next to her, knowing without even seeing that he'd gone as stiff as she had. After all, it wasn't every day you saw an alternate universe version of yourself kissing someone you consider a good friend.

Star parted from her Sans with a bright grin, finally looking over at the classic pair. Her expression morphs into confusion.

"What's up? You guys look like you've seen a ghost."

"I. Uh. I'm fine."

The other Sans opened his sockets and looks at her, those eye-lights just a little fuzzy. (Her Sans looks at her that way sometimes. She doesn't let herself think of why.) They sharpen almost immediately though, and she feels that all too familiar sensation of being CHECKed, a crawling up her spine and a silent awareness of her soul.

His gaze switches between her, her Sans, and then back to her. That all too familiar look passes over this stranger's face, that amused understanding like he'd figured out a puzzle of some kind. And she wonders if all of them share that expression.

"heh."

He turns his head and mutters something into Star's ear. Her doppelganger blinks owlishly at them before understanding dawns.

"...snrk—" She covers her mouth with a hand, but Angel saw that grin coming a mile away. She can't even bring herself to be mad about that, because she'd do the exact same thing in her shoes. "Sorry, sorry! I'm gonna go ahead and steal my boyfriend now. It was nice meeting you!"

Star drags her Sans away in the direction of two others, calling out like her goal was to embarrass Angel and Sans even further. "Can't wait! Gonna dance with the love of my life! The fire of my loins! Etcetera!"

...Would it be morally correct to choke your alternate self?

Angel shakes her head to clear the thought, mortification crawling up her back. She risks a look over at Sans.

He's usually so put together, features betraying nothing beyond a lazy grin and a curious stare. Now though, he's just as flushed as she is. One hand is over his mouth, covering the twitching teeth as he fights to keep his grin intact. It's about the closest thing to a frown from him that she's ever seen, the sight punching her slightly in the chest. All of a sudden, it's like she's been transported back into grade school, classmates laughing. Little jerks tapping her on the shoulder, saying "So and so likes you!" And the target always, vehemently, denying with a clear disgust.

Angel chokes down the poison and laughs, startling the skeleton. The sound is thin.

"That was, uh, something! Sorry about that."

"...eh. it's fine. different timelines, different people." What she perceives as disgust is wiped from his face as he pulls himself back together. "guess we're getting back to mingling?"

"Sure." There's a pit in her stomach. "Onward!"

[nevadancitizen]

-> FASCINATION WITH THE ORDINARY

synopsis: your world is vastly different from the nevada native to madness combat. after the main three + 2bdamned get transported to your world, they each find things that fascinate them.

word count: 2.5k

characters: hank, deimos, sanford, 2bdamned, player! reader

trigger warnings: ehh slight yandere/obsession but could also be read as super heavy pining if you're not into that lol

notes: madness combat fandom arise. madness combat fandom come back to me (also set in @/saltymongoose 's self-aware au)

For the sake of consistency, let’s imagine that the Player lives in a big, lonely, woodsy and plain-sy plot of land. There’s little to no outside human interaction, and lots of animals wandering through the area with a river running through it. For the wildlife, I’m basing it on the American South because I’ve lived here my entire life and know how they act.

SUNSETS & SUNRISES

2BDamned would be the most entranced, since he has the most memories from before the fall and before Hank killed the sun. He’s an early riser by nature (since his body has conditioned him so he’s mostly overworked and under-rested, as unhealthy as it is), so he leans more towards the beauty of a sunrise, towards the light that starts to paint the dark sky with hazy orange shades and rosy hues. He likes breathing in the crisp air and the way it almost sends a shock through his lungs.

But the sun stirs a lingering feeling of nostalgia, though, for the way things were before everything fell to madness. Doc tries his best not to let the thoughts get the better of him as you slip through the front door and out onto the front porch, carrying two steaming cups of coffee. 

God, he could imagine staying like this forever: just you, him, a beautiful sunrise, and coffee. Surely the way you pay attention to him, the way you get up extra early to watch the sunrise, the way you doctor his coffee just right – they’re all examples of how you care for him, just as he cares for you. But for now, he’ll just bide his time, blowing the steam off the surface of his coffee and purring, soft and raspy, both at the taste and because of your company.

But that doesn’t stop the others from appreciating the astounding view at dusk, because Sanford and Deimos are more partial to sunsets after long days. They like lounging in the adirondack chairs set up around the fire pit, cracking open a few beers, and simply relaxing with you. (Don’t worry, Sanford will gather firewood and Deimos will set it alight if it’s a little too cold for your taste.)

They’re fresher clones, so they don’t remember the sun well, if at all. They both always go quiet when the sun starts to dip below the horizon. Sanford props his tea sunglasses on top of his head and Deimos sets his cigarette in the ashtray as they both stare at the way the light turns the clouds purple and paints the sky with pink streaks. It stirs something sad in your heart – both of these men are pushing and just over the cusp of thirty, yet they don’t know the simple sweetness of a sunset. 

But as soon as night overtakes the sky, they both turn their attention back to you. Deimos makes some suave comment about your beauty being nothing in the face of a sunset in that rumbling, smooth voice of his, and Sanford gives him a pointed glare. Sanford points out that your beauty and the beauty of nature are two whole different things, but keeps showering you with not-so-inadvertent compliments, leaving you flustered and blushing from both grunt’s words.

Hank is somewhat of an anomaly with this one. All of the grunt’s biological clocks are absolutely porked from their time without a sun, but Hank’s affected the worst by far. (That, and he doesn’t really care for the sun. He literally slaughtered it.) Therefore, he’s more privy to waking up in the middle of the night and dragging you onto the roof to look at the stars. 

He likes laying on his back with you on his chest, pointing out the brightest stars and asking you questions about them. (He doesn’t really care, he just likes hearing your voice.) He loves your vivid descriptions of the constellations and how you describe them in intricate ways. To Hank, they’re just sparkly, unreachable dots in the sky, but it seems like, to you, they’re beautiful: like millions of silver nails driven into a dome of dark blue velvet. 

He savors the moments like these the most, when you’re alone with him. There’s no sound except for the crickets and dog-day cicadas and spring peepers and your voice and Hank’s sputtering purring. Honestly, it’s as it should be – without those other pesky dipshits ruining your time together. (Well, he can tolerate Doc, but that annoying extraction team could go fuck themselves for all he cared.)

ENTERTAINMENT

Sanford hates being lazy. He hates feeling like he’s not doing anything useful, even if he’s being useful by resting. The only real way to make him sit down and stop moving is by trapping him on the couch, laying your head in his lap, and turning on the TV. (Even if, for the first thirty minutes, he’s too focused on you and your body heat and how fast his heart is beating to even consider looking at the TV.)

But the thing he loves watching the most isn’t any sort of movie with amazing cinematography or show with riveting writing – it’s infomercials. Specifically, infomercials from the 90’s to the late 2000’s. He likes seeing what things could’ve been like if there was no madness in Nevada, because things are oddly peaceful (at least, to him) in your world. Billy Mays and Cathy Mitchell make him wonder about domestic life with you (even if the Jupiter Jack and the Xpress Redi-Set-Go are completely obsolete by now), and how these little gadgets would make your life together supposedly go smoother.

He likes combing his claws carefully through your hair as you both watch these people play up how useful these obviously useless inventions are. He tries to avert his eyes and act interested in the TV as you look up at him and point out how the Red Devil Grill was recalled because it got so hot it collapsed and caused fires, but can’t. He just can’t keep his eyes off you when you look up at him so sweetly, and can you blame him? You just make his face so warm and his heart beat so fucking fast…

Deimos has always had a fascination with electronics, but it’s mostly been from a tactical and weaponized standpoint. But he’s discovered (well, really, you introduced him to) video games. He absolutely loves curling up into your side, purring and providing commentary as he watches you play. (Because, despite his trying, he hasn’t really gotten a hang of the controls yet.)

He loves more story-fueled games with characters he can really get attached to. He likes investing himself in things and people that don’t actually affect him, because seeing your favorite character go through dire straits or even die hurts for a little while, but it’s nothing compared to seeing someone get eviscerated right in front of you. And, yeah, he totally cried when Arthur Morgan died (and totally played it up so that you’d comfort him). 

He also likes draping himself over you in the middle of a boss fight, wriggling and nuzzling into your cheek, causing you to giggle, lose focus, and, obviously, die. He strings together half-hearted apologies through his raspy purring, but he’s not really sorry. More deaths means more time spent with him, and internally, he’s completely and honestly unapologetic for his underhanded tactics. 

Due to the nature of his administrative role, Doc spends a lot of time in front of screens. He likes to unplug and unwind by reading, no doubt with a straight-up hazardous amount of coffee by his side. He prefers reading with you with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, whether you’re also reading or working on something else. Though he’s inexperienced (and sometimes even shy) with these types of things, he’s more than happy to ease into affectionate touches and romance that kills his common sense with you. 

His tastes are often cheap, but when he earns enough dough, he likes to splurge on second-hand college anatomy textbooks. No, he’s not planning on going to university, but he wants to know the inner workings of the human system (and, therefore, the inner workings of you). He also likes speculative biology and seeing what humans think about other intelligent species potentially being out there.

He would absolutely be elated (though he tries his best to hide it) if you took his interests seriously and discussed them with him. He tries to keep you in his makeshift office and away from the others so you can continue to spend this precious alone time with him, but that doesn’t stop the red-hot flare of jealousy as one of the others bursts in with a childish ask about something that should be obvious. (Of fucking course you wouldn’t want to go for a walk, Deimos, have you seen the weather out? Leave you and him alone!)

Obviously Hank would love gorefest and splatter film movies because of his all-encompassing and absolute love for carnage, and he’d love them even more if you got scared and hid yourself in his shoulder or chest. It’s clear that he’s your strongest and most capable vessel, so he clearly agrees with your choice to choose him as your protector (even if that choice is based on an instinctive need to hide). 

He also loves WWE and MMA fighting. When given the choice, he opts for MMA because it’s real and bloody and he prefers seeing people push themselves to their absolute limit rather than some predetermined fight that serves a higher storyline. (But, then again, he really likes the clip of Undertaker breaking into Paul Bearer’s house during an interview and throwing a cabinet at him because, what the fuck? He’s never thought of that before! Using things from the environment when out of weapons instead of his fists could be an improvement. Maybe he can learn a thing or two from these fake fighters…)

And, yes, if you give him access to Twitter he will turn your entire timeline into those backyard fight videos and dashcam car crashes. He doesn’t mean to, it just happens.

ANIMALS

Being a natural night owl, Deimos loves keeping a lookout for what critters come out at night. When he’s on the front porch with you, smoking a cigarette and waving away mosquitoes, he makes sure to keep an eye out for weird and unusual wildlife. (While pressed against your side and purring loudly, no doubt.)

He likes watching the whip-poor-wills swoop down and catch the moths that swarm around the overhead porch lights. Yes, he will try to catch one, but backs off when you tell him to. Instead, he opts for digging in the dirt to find beetles and grubs to toss up in the air for the small birds to catch. He will kinda feel bad if the beetles hit the ground but will continue to throw them to the birds when you tell him insects are basically immune to fall damage, so… no harm, no foul.

He’s also absolutely enamored by raccoons. He likes throwing food to them from the safety of the porch and watching them eat with their little grabby hands. He’s very reckless so, despite your warnings, he’ll try to squirrel one away inside the house. (He does this multiple times and, without fail, gets bitten each time. 2B has given him multiple rabies shots after shooing the raccoons out with a broom.)

Speaking of Doc, he enjoys going out in nature and finding decaying things just to see how many buzzards arrive. He excuses it with something about wanting to see if decomposition works the same across both your world and his, but he secretly finds some relation with the birds – something about being deliverers and arbiters and negators of death. (Though the last one really only applies to him.)

He also likes the rare sightings of wild horses. He’ll go out of his way to (carefully, shyly) rouse you from whatever you’re doing to go take a look at the majestic beasts, and he’ll be even more excited if there’s a foal wandering between the stocky legs of the adults. 

He just barely brushes his fingers against yours as you both stand on the edge of the treeline and watch them graze. Seeing the foal break from the herd, kick out and tumble and fall over and immediately get back up sparks… something in his heart. A vision. Just you, just him, linked pinkies, and a future together, with this warm feeling in his chest.

Hank really likes the more dangerous creatures. He gets along well with cottonmouth and other venomous snakes (and “gets along well” really means that they’re mean as can be and strike as often as possible while he just holds them and smiles at you). 

If you don’t keep a close enough eye on him, he’ll wander off and try to provoke larger animals, like bobcats. To him, they’re just tiny little pussycats, even if they pose a real threat and could kill him. Please don’t let him go too far, because if he comes across a bear, he will try to wrestle it, and Doc doesn’t like having to do emergency surgery on the island countertop in your kitchen. 

On multiple occasions, he’s come back to the house after being missing for hours, reeking of skunk spray. He just purrs happily as you tell him to strip and hold still as you spray him down with the hose.

Sanford is way calmer with his interactions with wildlife. He likes sitting on the dock with you and watching the fish swim by (because he’s impressed both by the fish and by the river – he’s never seen water in such great quantity!) Set him up with a hook, lure, and line and he’ll be entertained for hours. Though he struggles a bit with making streamers and fishing knots due to his big hands and claws, he’s more than patient when you teach him (mostly because he gets to spend time with you). 

When he’s fishing, he likes to look around and observe – mostly because fishing is a waiting game. His favorite visitors are herds of whitetail deer, especially when summer is in full swing and the fawns are ready to start exploring. They remind him of his family, mainly because of the way the does don’t really care which fawn is theirs, just that each is getting enough milk. You point at them and discuss them with him in small whispers because you don’t want to spook them. 

Again, it reminds him of his want for a domestic life with you. Just basking in the mottled sun that seeps through the trees, dipping your bare feet in the cool river water as a catfish tugs on the line – it’s all he wants, really. Now if he could just get the rest of the grunts to leave you alone… excluding Deimos, of course.

[miniwheat77]

Caught. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! Kidnapping, mentions of torture and rape, death, violence, angstyyyy, happy ending (lemme know if I missed any)

(Summary): After you're captured on a mission gone wrong, Price goes a little crazy.

"May have found something here, Captain." Gaz looks upon the old washing machine. "Give me a hand yeah?"

"I'll push, you pull." Price says lowering his rifle and walking around to the other side. Once it's been moved, Price raises up his gun again. He steps inside, looking upon the dingy room and crater in the floor. "Kate, we've found passageway."

"Good work." She says through the radio. "Look at this." Price says to Gaz. "Jackpot." Gaz laughs.

"Be advised, multiple boats approaching our position."

"Need help?" Gaz is the first to respond. "Could be fishermen, stay on mission."

Price's hair stands up upon hearing it. He doesn't like this one bit. He is first to descend, Gaz following close behind him. When they reach the ground Price takes out a man waiting there silently, after that they await more words from Laswell as they creep their way through the tunnel. "Cartels love their tunnels."

"Wish I could say the same." Gaz groans. "Age before beauty Captain."

They continue their way into the tunnel, curious as to where it leads.

"Bloody extensive." Gaz says, noticing the way the dirt turns to mud.

"Must lead out to water." Price says, lifting up his radio.

"Kate, I'm in the tunnels heading toward the coastline, you okay?"

"Boats are still closing, no trouble yet."

"I don't like this Kate." Price growls.

"Comes with the territory John."

"You shouldn't be out there alone just the two of you."

"We aren't alone, we're armed and dangerous Captain. Out."

Bullets flying past the both of them has them crouching down, firing back. Gaz raises up over the crate he'd hidden behind, firing at each of them until he doesn't see anymore movement, moving up. He doesn't see anymore cartel. "All clear." He says, lowering his weapon.

"Have a look at this." Price pauses. "Submarine."

"Fuckin' hell." Gaz says looking over it. "Cartel's using it for transport."

"Things big enough for a missile." Gaz sighs. "Barely. You couldn't cross the Atlantic in that heap." John raises his radio.

"Kate, we're in a cave just off the coast. No personnel, no missiles."

"Copy, I'm directly across... I think we've got problems here John."

John feels the pit of nervousness growing in his chest. "Copy, stand by. Gaz, get your gun up towards the ocean!"

"What is it?!" Gaz asks. "Boats are closing in- looks like AQ. They heave weapons."

"Contact, engaging!"

"KATE!" Price growls into the radio. The only thing Price could do is watch in horror, trying to pick each of them off but it's no use. "Fuck! They're boarding!" Price says. "KATE..! KATE..!" He yells into the radio but receives nothing. "LASWELL!" Gaz yells into his own radio. "FUCK! What the fuck- I can't see what's happening!" Gaz panics. “They have them hemmed in, they're surrounded!” Price growls.

"Al Qatala's on the boat, they're taking it, or us." They could hear men yelling at her in Arabic. Not being able to understand. They're yelling too loud for the radio to pick their voices up clearly. "Get your fucking hands off of me! Let her go!" They hear Laswell yelling. "Laswell! Laswell!" Price yells. "They're on the AQ boat, they're taking them!"

"They got them Captain." Gaz says, defeated. Worry sets in immediately. "Let's get off the X and talk to Shepherd." Price says crawling back up onto the ledge they'd both come off of to get to the entrance. "We need to get them back."

"Let's move."

---

"This is proof of life." Gaz says, looking at the laptop. It's a video of Al Qatala pointing a gun at Laswell. "Where did this come from?" Price asks. "Urzikstan." Shepherd says through the radio. "Look." Price says, pointing at the screen. "They're pointing east."

"Likely to Al Mazrah." Shepherd says.

"If they get them underground there we'll lose them for good." Gaz says.

"We'll lead the rescue team." Price says, patting Gaz on the shoulder as he turns to walk away. "That's not gonna happen John." Shepherd says, making him stop right in his tracks. "Say again, general." Gaz says. "This is a tug o' war boys. We need to pull back, not lean forward."

"Since when." Gaz says. "Since now. We can't just send in the cavalry, these things take planning and preparation." Shepherd says sternly. "These things take violence and timing, I can do both." Price growls. "Their lives are in a fuckin hourglass." He's furious.

"I know you're upset captain. This happened on your mission and that's a tough pill to swallow." Price's face is turning red. "Are you telling me we leave them?" He asks. "I'm telling you I can't help you… But I won't stop you." Shepherd says. "I'll have them back in 12 hours."

"Don't die doing this John, they wouldn't want that. I don't either."

"General, I thought Kate was your friend." Gaz asks. "War isn't about friends. It's about enemies. Good luck." They shut the laptop, turning to head in the other direction.

"We'd be going head to head with AQ on their home turf, they're gonna have hundreds more protecting them. We need an army." Gaz says, concerned. "I can get us an Army." Price says, bumping Gaz's chest with the side of his fist. Walking toward the Exfil Chopper.

---

Upon finding out you and Laswell had been captured, Price and Gaz knew they had to act quickly.

Price got all of 141 on board, everyone was acting fast to get to the both of you. They were on their way to the both of you in no time.

The only set back to that was, when they'd gotten into the car Laswell was in, you weren't there with her. Laswell was freaking out when they got her out, asking where they'd taken you. Only then did they realize, you weren't with her.

They had no idea at which point the both of you had been separated. They couldn't get in touch with you in any way whatsoever. They had no idea where they could have taken you, leaving them on a mission.

Shepherd told him it was no use, that you were probably already dead, but Price refused to give up.

After months of searching for you, trying to find any sign of you at all, Laswell told Price he needed to give up. She tried to break it to him easy, that Shepherd was right, you were probably already dead.

Price felt empty, he felt like he failed you and in a way, he knew he did. At the bar sitting with Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Laswell after Hassan had been associated. He felt nothing but anguish. Defeat. The rest of them could tell that he was off. Could tell that he was damaged by your loss. You and Price got along really well. Price was sick, they took down Hassan, killed commander Graves. He wanted to tell you everything. He loved talking to you. And you'd missed all of it. He wanted to see your face even if it was just once more.

You were quiet and followed orders well, didn't let anything bother you like the rest did. You were level headed, asked questions before acting. You were calm. Maybe that's why the both of you got along so well. You were good at soothing him. When he was stressed and you'd rest your hand on his shoulder or back, he would calm immediately. His heart would still in his chest. His blood would stop pumping. You were the calm to the raging sea inside of him constantly. He favored you by accident sometimes. The others never really seemed to notice but he did. You were always someone he could talk to. Someone he felt comfortable around. He remembers the conversations the both of you had shared on the rooftop changing watch. Your smile, your eyes.

As time went on, he started to forget. He'd forget some of the little things you would do. It hurt him even worse to know that he was forgetting. He'd dream of you, dream of finding you. And one night, the last dream he'd had of you. He knew what he was feeling wasn't just a Captain and a Sergeant. These were feelings, and the dream he had of kissing you after finally being reunited with you, is when he realized it. He realized the feelings of heartbreak he felt were real, he had actual feelings for you and had been so blinded by your loss he didn't stop to realize it. He remembers the night after the dream when Laswell seen him up at ungodly hours of the morning, seeming so stressed and exhausted. She ended up sitting down next to him, she was on base for just a couple days to aid in some more small missions. "It's Y/N isn't it?" She asks. He looks up at her, eyes glossed over. The first time Laswell had ever seen the man even start to look upset. "Keep having nightmares about her." She nods her head. "It's tough. I know it is." She looks down.

John doesn't know what to say. Should he hope that if they had killed you that it was a fast painless death? Al Qatala wasn't kind to other militia. They beat, tortured, raped. They did everything before finally killing them. Is he supposed to hope that you're alive somewhere? Battered? Broken? Or does he hope that you had a fast death? Which is the better of the two, because to him they're both fucked up. Laswell can see the back and fourth in his brain. She can see how he's struggling. "I'm worried I'll forget her." He sighs. One single tear falling from his eye, running down his cheek just slightly before he furiously rubs his eye. "You won't. I found this in one of her old rooms, thought you should have it." She slides the photograph over to him. It's his entire team. After a mission that had gone a little south. Everyone was dirty and covered in blood, the brightest thing about each of them was their teeth as they smiled brightly at the camera. You were to the left side next to Price, he had an arm draped over you and you were smiling so beautiful. His heart aches at the thought of you, that he'll never see you again.

He hates this.

-

He's looking through the scope at a group of men, lost in thought. It was dangerous for him to be in his head so much. He risked his team every time he did it, but he couldn't stop it.

Gaz is trying to flank them from behind. They need information and this is how they'd get it. He'd gone inside sometime ago.

"Clear." Gaz says over the radio. Price emerges from the bushes, walking up to the house from his spot outside. "Got his phone." Gaz breathes. "What's it say?"

"Nothing important." He sighs. "More cartel."

"Already?" Price shakes his head. "Yeah. Assuming Valeria has a second in command. Probably already in her spot. Same with Hassan I'd imagine. There's always more."

Something moving catches Captain Price's eye and he raises his gun, firing immediately. He rushes to the room the man had been trying to run into. "No! Please don't kill me!" He raises his hands. Price realizes he'd shot him in the shin. Price lifts him up to where he is sitting, aiming his gun at him. "Tell us what you know."

"I.. I don't know anything."

He tries to maintain silence, but Price pulling the slide back on his pistol has him freaking out. "Your friend! I know where she is!" He cries. Price's face drops immediately and he lowers his gun. "Who? Who are you talking about!" He roars. His sense of urgency has even Gaz flinching. "I.. I think her name is Y/N or something like that." He cries. "Where is she?" he growls. "I'll tell you but you can't kill me." He breathes. "Okay." Price lifts him up, Gaz zip tie's his hands behind his back and they lead him outside. They had to wait a while on exfil but they could manage to stay hidden until then.

They chose to hide in an empty vehicle until the chopper arrived, it being only a couple minutes out. "Where is she? Is she alive?" Price asks. Gaz missed you too obviously. You treated everyone in 141 well in the time you had spent with them. "She works for him. In a safehouse in Mexico." He breathes. "Show us." Gaz asks. "If she isn't alive, you're dead." Price breathes. This random man could see the death stare in his eyes. How serious he was about killing him. The only thing he could do was hope you were still alive, knowing full well most slaves didn't make it out alive. He didn't have his radio, couldn't call for help. Not like his boss would help him anyways, he was disposable.

When the exfil chopper arrives, Price rushes him up onto the ramp. "Stay there, and don't try anything or so help me god I will blow your head off." He growls. "Watch him Garrick." He orders and Gaz nods his head. "Laswell, this is Price." He says into his cell phone as she answers it.

"John it is 5am this better be good."

"We captured a man and he says Y/N is working in a cartel safehouse, she's a slave."

"Price..." she trails off. "He's probably lying." She sighs. "He said her name Laswell. He said it first." she sighs, he can't hear or see her, "Laswell. She's on 141, we need her, we owe this to her. I'll follow any lead I get, even if it takes me right to a dead end." He growls. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Laswell gets up from her bed. "I'm on my way down to the office, hold tight." He sighs in relief. He needs you back. So much worse than he ever thought he'd need anyone. Laswell sighs, throwing the blanket off of herself and standing up to change her clothes. Once she is dressed, she picks up her keys and bag, heading out the door to her car.

When they return to their base, Price can do nothing but wait anxiously.

He’s sitting on a bench, elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his hands. He was anxious. Bouncing his leg up and down, switching the position in which he’s sitting every few minutes. He wanted to come out of his skin. “Cap.” Gaz says sitting down. “You look distraught.” John sighs. “Just.. nervous.”

Gaz nods his head. “Please excuse my digging sir. But.. you’ve changed since she went missing. Do.. do you have feelings for her?”

“Garrick, she’s one of my own.”

“I know sir. It’s just that.. you seem to be more interested in finding her than anyone else. I just wonder if your feelings for her aren’t greater than even you’ve realized.” Captain Price shakes his head. “Garrick.” John stands up. “This a mission, treat it like one.” He says, going to walk away. Right as he does, his phone rings. “I tracked Y/N back to a workshop. I’ve got in contact with Alejandro and Rudolfo in Mexico. They’re familiar with the area. They’re going to meet you, and help you get her back.”

John breathes a breath of relief. You were so close. There was a part of him that knew this wouldn’t work out. That knew you were long gone and wouldn’t be there anymore. He knew for sure he’d never see you again. But he at least has to try. He knew not to get his hopes up. “Garrick! Get everyone else. We leave in 15!” He says, walking up the stairs and going into his office. He gathered up everything he thinks he’ll need, heading back down the stairs to meet with everyone else. “Y/N has been tracked down to a workshop in Mexico, she’s been a slave for the last few months. We’re not sure if she’s still there but we’ll be meeting up with Alejandro and Rudolfo. They’re going to help us.”

“She’s.. still alive?” Soap is the first to speak. “Unsure.” Price lowers his head for a second. “That’s what we’re going to check.”

—

“Captain.” Alejandro nods his head. “Alejandro, how are you?”

“Hanging in there. Ready to get your girl back?” He smiles. “Always.”

Captain Price and Gaz set up snipers. Soap and Ghost are creeping their way up to the buildings, looking for those Price and Gaz may not see. Alejandro is going to try to find another way inside, Rudy is waiting in a vehicle in case anything goes wrong. One by one, they’re each picking off members of the cartel. “I’m inside.” Alejandro says into the radio quietly. “I see a lot of women and children but the place is crawling with cartel. We’re going to have to attack.” He says quietly. Price and Gaz emerge from their hiding places. Slowly making their way toward the building from the buildings they’d taken post up on. They meet Ghost and Soap. “Okay. Each of us will take a different side. If they do not surrender, fire.” Alejandro is stern and everyone agrees. Price walks around the back, finding a dirty white door. “On 3. 1… 2… 3!” They each bust the doors open. “Mexican Special Forces!” They hear Alejandro yelling. Gunshots ring out throughout the building, followed by eerie silence. Price creeps up a set of stairs, hearing Alejandro reassure the women and children below that they’re going to be okay, that they’re safe now.

He continues up the stairs. Noticing a single door at the end of a hallway. He tries the handle, but it’s lock. He takes a deep breath, praying you'll be behind it. He kicks the door open, hearing a scream.

When he sees you, his heart stops. The heartbreak, nightmares, dreams. Everything. It’s finally coming to an end as he sees you sitting at a desk, trembling with your hands over your face. “Y/N?” He asks. You freeze, slowing lifting your head up from your hands. When your eyes meet his, a sob leaves your throat and he drops all of his equipment to get to you. “Y/N..” he pulls you into him. You’re hysterical, can’t get out a word. You’re a little skinnier than when he last seen you. Hair was longer, you had circles under your eyes. You were bruised, beaten. But you were alive. And you were in his arms right now. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I have you now, you’re safe.” He breathes. He lifts you up, holding you. He hears footsteps coming up the stairs, seeing the rest of 141. “Holy shit!” Gaz laughs. They crowd you, each of them hugging you, trying to reassure you. Gaz digs a candy bar from his pack, Soap passes you a water from his as you sit there. Alejandro calls for backup to get the place under control, he needed to keep everyone safe. “What happened?” Gaz asks. “They separated me and Laswell onto different boats. I was traded to the cartel, she went with Al Qatala. They bounced me between safehouses, and I ended up here.” You breath. “They.. beat me. Starved me. But.. I’m still fucking alive.” You laugh. “We thought Captain was going to go bonkers.” Soap laughs. “We have so much to catch up on. Let’s get you back home.” Price stands up.

“I think me and Ghost are going to stay here. Help Alejandro out with the women and children here until it’s secure.”

“Call for exfil when you’re ready to come home boys.” Price smiles. Gaz and Price help you out to the exfil chopper that had brought them in. The first place they took you was the nearest hospital. Captain Price never left your side aside from going to get you something to eat and showering. But he slept in the uncomfortable hospital chairs, stirred awake at the slightest noise, and on the night you’d have nightmares, he was there to comfort you. He was amazing to you.

He’d gone to shower and pick up food for Gaz, you and him. Gaz happened to be near so he decided to stop in and check up on you. You were doing good and healing well. He was sitting next to your hospital bed, talking to you about some of the missions they’d been on while assassinating Hassan.

“You know.. he likes you.” Gaz laughs. “What?” You ask. “He went crazy after you got captured. Barely slept, barely ate. Couldn’t focus on missions. I thought it was just because you were part of 141, but I realized he has more feelings for you than just.. being alongside you as a team.” He laughs. “He’ll never be up front with you. So I just thought I’d tell you.” Gaz laughs. He’s sitting in the chair by your bed, hands clasped together. “Are.. are you sure?” You ask nervously. “Oh, dead sure. When I tried to bring it up to him he got all stern with me. Bloke can’t express his feelings at all.” He laughs. You smile at him, and Price walks inside the door, bags of food in hand. “Ahhh. Captain Price, always looking out for his team.” Gaz smiles.

After you finished eating, Gaz told the both of you he needed to be heading back to base, and that he’d see you both there when you felt better. As much as Price wanted your safety, he also wanted you back on base. It was lonely there. He hated it without you. He sits in the same chair Gaz was in. The entire time. Refusing to leave your side.

“You can head back to base Captain. I’m sure that chair isn’t comfortable.” You laugh. “Nonsense. I’m here to watch over you, make sure you’re safe. I’m staying here until we can leave together.” He smiles. You send him a tired smile. “Get some sleep love.”

You roll over onto your side, pulling the blanket up to your face and getting comfortable. It was hard to imagine. He’d spent countless hours tracking you down. Looking, yearning for you. You figured he would, as your Captain. But you figured he’d given up. But he never did. You’d grown pretty fond of him too, the countless hours the both of you had talked about anything and everything. Getting used to each others presence. He’s who you thought the most about when you were kidnapped. The conversations, his warmth. He was comfortable and nice. He was safe. You always imagined him rescuing you light a knight in shining armor, and that's exactly what he did. That had to mean something right?

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you do remember being awoken by the sound of John talking. You stir awake, listening. He’s mumbling incoherently, you don’t understand. He lets out a gasp, “no, let her go!” He cries out in his sleep.

“John?” You ask. You wait a minute but receive nothing. You sit up from your bed, rubbing your eyes. He squirms in the chair, the nightmare he’s having he can’t wake up from. You swing your legs over the bed, grasping the IV pole and wheeling it toward him, limping your way over to him. “John?” You say quietly, placing your hand on his cheek. “No- no! Y/N!” He was having a nightmare about you getting captured again.

“John!” You say a little louder, shaking him.

He jolts awake, looking up at you. The small lamp on in the room allows him to see you. “Are you okay? Why are you up?” He asks. “You were having a nightmare.” You breathe. “Let’s get you back to bed sweetheart.” He stands up. You climb back into the bed. He covers you with the blanket, taking a step to go back to the chair. “John?” You ask. “Yeah?” You look down. “Will you lay with me?”

“Y/N.. I don’t know-“

“The nurse doesn’t come by until 8am, please?”

He sighs, looking down. “Okay.” He breathes. He walks around the opposite side of your IV lines. Climbing into bed next to you. The bed is pretty small so he has to be close to you. You turn your back to him, and he pulls you into him, wrapping his arm around your waist. It doesn’t take long before the both of you fall back asleep. John’s internal alarm clock has him awake a few hours later at 6am. A little later than usual. He’d slept better than he ever has as cliché as it may sound. Holding you, right up to him. You were safe.

You were able to leave the following day, you’d need to work on your strength. You were hurt and had to be careful. You’d gained a little bit of weight being in the hospital which was good. When you arrive on base, everyone greets you. Laughing and hugging you, so happy to see you doing better. John had a hard time leaving your side. He knew that these feelings he had for you would never go anywhere. He knew he needed to back away from you before he had anymore feelings.

-

The first night back, you couldn’t sleep. You laid awake until around one in the morning before getting frustrated enough, standing up. You crept down the hallway quietly until you reached his room. You knocked at the door quietly, hearing him rustle around inside. “Y/N?” He asks opening the door. “Can I stay with you? I don’t want to sleep alone.” You ask. “Of course love, Cmon.” He opens the door wider. You walk inside and he guides you to his bed. He yawns, rubbing his eyes. You lift his blanket crawling underneath it. He wraps his arms around you again, pulling you into him. He loves the way that your hair smells. “John?” You ask. “Yeah?” You breathe. “Gaz told me that you like me. Is that true?”

“What?” His heart freezes in his chest. He’s nervous.

“Because.. I like you too.” You breathe.

He pulls you to turn over, looking at you. “I think you’re tired sweetheart.”

“I think.. you’re the person I thought about the very most while I was gone. I always wanted you to come save me, as pathetic as it was.” You look at him. He takes a deep breath. “I do like you. I.. nearly went crazy when you were gone.” He chuckles. You lean into him, eyes traveling from his eyes to his lips. He takes the hint, pulling you into him and kissing you hard. At long last, he’s kissing you.

"I don't want you to think you owe me something Y/N." He takes a deep breath. "Of course not John." The use of his first name takes him a little off guard. "I'm not tired, I'm in the right state of mind, and I like you. If I could lay here with you forever I would." You sigh. He smiles. "You've got a lot of healing to do Y/N. I want you to know that I'll be alongside you the entire time, sweetheart." You smile. "I'd love that." He pulls you into him and you rest your head on his chest. He was safety, and he'd always look out for you no matter what. "I've got you now, you can sleep." He breathes. In just a few minutes, your breathing has settled and deepened telling him you've fallen asleep. John's own eyes grow heavy, feeling you by his side finally.

You were with him, and he'd never let you out of his sight ever again.

He lost you once, and he never would again.

[destinygoldenstar]

Worst ways to describe Ninjago to people

(Let me know if I should turn this into a series, or if you come up with any)

(These are all jokes)

"This is a show about how plastic makes tornadoes"

"That's Jay, the blue guy. His special power is screaming at the very top of is lungs"

"That's Kai. He's an anime protagonist. His special power is getting sidelined in everything he's ever been involved with"

"That's Cole. Best hair. No criticism" (Quote my GF)

"Society hates and torments a ten year old because he's a brat"

“See, his father is a tired old man who wants to be a better father, it’s hard when you’re an evil terrorist trying to turn the world into your personal zombie land”

"And then the child slipped on ice and fell into a snake pit, and then he was a KING"

"So there's this purple snake. He eats purple snakes. That's how you know he's a good friend"

"Also there's a pink ninja. Yeah. We don't talk about pinkie no no no no no-"

"He's always wondered who he was on the inside... turns out he's a bunch of wires"

"If he could get someone to fall in love with him, the curse would be broken. But who could ever learn to love a snake?"

"His dad didn't say NO MUSIC, he said YES MUSIC, ONLY MUSIC"

"So they have the devil himself living in their boat, and they all think he's a really good neighbor who wouldn't try to kill them while they're sleeping. Except for this one guy who is suspicious. What a hypocrite he is, am I right?"

"Do I save the entire world or do I have this one child? I'm gonna save the child, c'mere child"

"'No destiny, I AM the Green Ninja' 'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-'"

"And then the emo child became god"

"So he died. Then he died. And then he died again."

"A machine told her that cheating was okay"

"To save her life, he gave her a piece of his heart. Literally"

"And then they were yeeted into space"

"The Flash is in this show"

"You know how they say the cake is a lie? Wrong. It's the noodles"

"The best way to make things right with your friend is to try to strike them with lightning"

"I must fulfill my daddy's wishes to start up the evil empire-but wait, why is this fire boy so pretty? I think I'll side with him"

"Dude was drunk on power holding a stick, don’t worry he’s fine, they just had to slap him with a jet”

"He was born a devil in a human's body. Then he became a devil. Then he became human again. Then he became a snake. Then he became a dead person. Then the devil again."

"Dead people are deadly allergic to water"

"What do you do when you don't know what to do with a character? MURDER THEM... and then bring them back as a ghost. Problem solved"

"A thousand year old genie wants to marry a teenage girl"

"You ever heard of Romeo and Juliet? Well Jay just said NOPE"

"A young boy became the father of an elderly man"

"Oh Lloyd, if only there was someone out there who loved you"

"And then his dad was brought back from hell to drag him along"

"They didn't die, they were transported to the middle of nowhere"

"A child grew up with his four dads, and then became thousands of years older than said four dads and tried to become a counselor to their rocky marriage"

"Cole fell into the void"

(Come up with your own when reblogging)

[podiumprincess]

Driven By Love 🏎️ ❤️‍🔥

TW: Mentions of a crash

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Side note; this is my first time writing an imagine!!! If you have any requests please send them my way <3 

Once upon a time in the glamorous world of Formula One, where speed and adrenaline ruled, there lived a talented and passionate young driver named Charles Leclerc. He possessed an unwavering determination to conquer the race tracks, but there was something else that fueled his fire—a love story that captured the hearts of many.

Charles was deeply in love with a remarkable woman named Y/N. She was his rock, his guiding light amidst the chaos of the racing world. Y/N understood the risks involved in Charles' profession, but she never let fear overshadow their love.

The scene was set in Monaco, a race that held a special place in Charles' heart. It was his home race, and the grandstands were filled with his loyal supporters. The weather gods, however, had a different plan in store. Dark clouds loomed overhead, and raindrops began to fall, transforming the picturesque streets into a treacherous battleground.

As the race commenced, Charles, focused and determined, weaved his way through the challenging circuit. The rain intensified, adding an extra layer of danger. The slick track surface tested the limits of even the most skilled drivers. In a heart-stopping moment, Charles lost control of his car, spinning wildly before crashing into the barriers.

Y/N, watching from the pit lane, gasped in horror as the crash unfolded before her eyes. Panic gripped her heart, and her hands trembled as she reached for the team radio.

Y/N (anxiously): "Charles, are you okay? Please, say something!"

Amidst the chaos and concern, a familiar voice broke through the static.

Charles (whispering): "Y/N... Y/N, are you there? I need to hear your voice."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she choked back sobs.

Y/N (tearfully): "Charles! Oh, thank goodness you're alive. I was so scared. Are you hurt?"

Charles (determined): "I'm shaken, but I'm okay, my love. Just hearing your voice gives me strength. Please, stay with me. I need you now more than ever."

The team radio crackled once more, but this time it was Charles' team manager.

Team Manager: "Charles, we're sending help. Stay calm and wait for the medical team."

Charles, though battered and bruised, clung to the sound of Y/N's voice. Her unwavering support and love propelled him forward, even in the darkest of moments.

Y/N (reassuringly): "Charles, remember who you are. You're a fighter, a champion. You'll get through this. I believe in you."

As Charles awaited medical assistance, the rain continued to pour, but his heart was filled with warmth. Y/N's words, a symphony of love and encouragement, resonated within him, giving him the strength to keep pushing forward.

The medical team arrived swiftly, attending to Charles' injuries and preparing him for transport. Y/N watched with bated breath, her heart aching to hold him close once more.

Days later, after a successful recovery, Charles stood atop the podium, holding the winner's trophy. The crowd erupted in cheers, but his gaze was fixated on one person—the love of his life, Y/N. With tears of joy streaming down their faces, they embraced, celebrating not only the victory on the track but also the enduring power of their love.

In the world of Formula One, where speed and danger intertwined, Charles and Y/N's love story became a testament to the strength found within the human heart. They showed that love, in its purest form, could inspire greatness, overcome adversity, and drive us to reach unimaginable heights. And so, their story became etched in the annals of racing history, forever known as the love story that drove Charles Leclerc to victory.

[mattybraps10]

I Can See You | Brendan Brisson x Hughes!OC

Summary: Phoebe Hughes loved being at the lake with her brothers more than anything. This is the last summer before Luke goes to New Jersey to join Jack, and she's ready to make the most of their changing lives. However, once she arrives, she learns that the boys have invited a special guest this summer... Brendan fucking Brisson.

Word Count: 1130

By: M

Parts: part two | part three | part four | part five

PART ONE:

With summer quickly approaching, Phoebe Hughes was ready to put her books away and lounge around the lake with her brothers. Although she had spent almost everyday with Luke whilst at school, she was still looking forward to having one-on-one time with the three of them like it used to be. She was proud of her brothers, of course, but with two of them in the NHL and one about to leave, she was starting to miss constantly being with them, something she’d never admit to. When the last day of the semester finally came, she and Luke packed up the car, smiling and waving to Luke’s teammates as they pulled out of the driveway. 

“Ready Pheebs?” Luke asked, turning the car onto the main road.

“Definitely.” Phoebe nodded, glad that summer continued to be a constant in their ever-changing lives. 

When they pulled up to the lake house, Phoebe was overwhelmed with the pure bliss accompanied by the wooded scenery. The lake was the one place that really felt like home to her after moving around so much as a kid. Stepping out of the car, Phoebe was transported back to high school summers with various members of her brothers’ teams, laughing around the fire pit without the stresses of adulthood. The smell of the pine trees filled her nose as she spun around, tilting her head back.

“Good to be back, huh?” Luke asked.

“You know how much I love this place.” She replied simply, everyone knew how much she loved her summers. Just as she was about to knock on the door, it opened and Jack stepped out, bumping into her.

“Umph- PHEEBS! I missed you kiddo.” Jack quickly wrapped her into a huge hug. Being the youngest of the Hughes siblings, Phoebe was used to being babied by her brothers and their friends.

“Missed you too Rowdy. Where’s Quinn?” She asked, stepping into the foyer. The foyer consisted of a massive hallway, and stairs leading down into the main rooms of the house. 

“Oh, Quinn’s just showing Briss around the house, you remember him right?” Boy did she remember him. Brendan had been her first crush, her first kiss, her first taste of teenage rebellion, and as all things go, her first heartbreak. Of course, the boys had no idea or Brendan would not have been invited back to the house, let alone breathing.

“Oh. Um. Maybe? You guys have a lot of friends.” She shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

“You’ll recognize him when you see him, he was around a lot when we were younger. I’ll help Luke unload the car now, you should go find Quinn.” Jack said, dismissing Phoebe and walking out the door. 

Great.

Phoebe wandered down the stairs, mentally preparing herself for the overwhelming emotions that would come when she laid eyes on Brendan again. She thought she’d gotten over him when she’d ended up at University of Michigan in his wake, but the pain of what he’d done forever lingered. She didn’t really blame him, she was three years younger and never expected anything to come of their relationship, but it still hurt when he pulled away and left for college. 

“Hey Pheebs, how are ya?” Quinn said, walking to the foot of the stairs and pulling her into a long hug.

“Quinny, I missed you buddy.” She replied easily, hugging him back.

“By the way, Briss is in the guest room if you wanna say hi, I know you guys spent a lot of time together growing up.” Leave it to Quinn to have picked up on their fleeting relationship, although it seemed he didn't know the true nature of it. 

“Oh. Uh- Maybe. I’m gonna unpack first…”

“Is- Are you okay Pheebs?” Of course he picked up on her hesitancy. Quinn had always been the most observant of her brothers, he always knew when things were off about her.

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Okay. We’re gonna head out on the boat in a bit if you wanna join.” He dropped the subject, although it was clear he didn’t believe her in the slightest. 

She walked to her room, opening her drawers and putting on an old swimsuit. Since she was usually only away during winter months, she left her warm weather clothes at the house, opting to make the drive on odd weekends when the weather warmed up. The bikini she grabbed had been Brendan’s favorite on her, small high waisted polka dot bottoms with a matching pink top. She hardly noticed the suit she’d grabbed, however, her mind preoccupied by thoughts of what it’d be like to finally see him again. 

“PHEEBS LETS GO!” Quinn yelled through the door, breaking her from her thoughts.

“COMING HOLD ON!!” She replied, pulling her brown hair out of its ponytail and letting it cascade down her shoulders. She ran out her door, figuring she’d grab one of her brother’s shirts as a cover up. 

“Woah.” A voice, Brendan, whispered. She wasn’t expecting him to look better than he had years before. He had been hot then, but now… Well now he was a whole other level of hot. 

“Pick your jaw up off the floor before my brothers see you ogling me. You had your shot, remember?” I said, walking into Jack’s room and grabbing a shirt from the closet. 

“Uh. Yeah.” He replied, following her into the room and scratching the back of his neck. As he raised his arm, his shirt lifted just slightly and Phoebe could see the outline of his abs, he certainly hadn’t had that when they were younger, that’s for sure.

“C’mon Lil’ Hughes, your brothers are already on the boat.” He said, leaning on the door frame as Phoebe put on Jack’s shirt, butterflies erupting in her stomach at the nickname she hadn’t heard in years.

He led the way down to the boathouse, making jokes and trying to rekindle their relationship and Phoebe couldn’t help but find it endearing. When they reached the boathouse, Phoebe was just about ready to forgive him.

“Hey Pheebs, Briss nice of y’all to finally join us.” Luke said, nodding in their direction.

“Woah, Pheebs, who’s shirt is that?” Jack asked, confused.

“You mean it’s not yours? Why the hell was it in your closet?” She asked, starting to get frustrated.

“It wasn’t- Briss and I traded rooms cause the other room was too bright for him with the big windows…”

“OH. MY. GOD. You’re wearing Briss’ shirt! HAHAHA!!” Luke interrupted Jack, cackling like a hyena. 

“Brendan.” Phoebe quickly turned to Brendan, her face shrouded in a frown. 

“I- What?” He asked, raising his hands up in mock surrender.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” 

“I thought you knew?” He said, shrugging. “It’s not like you haven’t done it before.” 

[hanasnx]

if i built a raft, will you stay with me then?

WARNINGS: mention of reader having hair long enough to catch and yank | hair pulling | angst no comfort | mild violence | psychological warfare | vader!anakin.

Dark, warm, and comfortable. Your sleeping body tucked within itself, rising and falling so peacefully. ANAKIN SKYWALKER had crept inside the room, crawled to lay alongside you, but that was ages ago. No sleep is in his eyes, only a blue fire in his chest, dulled by your flowery scent. 

Not even the Pillars of Creation could be as beautiful as you, he thinks. Inclining towards you, soaking up your sunlight, your presence feeds him. As quiet as a field mouse, he dare not disturb you, lest the hawk hear and snatch you up. Separating you from him. 

To separate… to be separate. Apart. Has he done that himself? Is he the hawk? A question that begs for reconsideration, tearing at the walls of his mind as you thrash in his grip. 

“You monster! You insane, hopeless, crazy monster!” you cry, your halting words faltering into delicacy with each passing syllable. Your once sugar-sweet voice, that serenaded him into complacency, is now a grating, desperate scream. It feathers out as the acceptance of your fate seals itself unwillingly, choking back sobs. 

His outstretched hand encloses into a fist, one finger at a time. The shuttle you’d prepared for your escape, dents within itself. 

“No! Stop!” you plea, and you dive for it. As if you could shield it with your body. His grasp on you is unforgiving, and to discipline you for your attempt, he uses your momentum against you. Digits twisting into your flowing hair, yanking you back to him as you yelp, and you land against his chest, disoriented; the burn in your scalp pacifies you briefly. The metal creaks in pain, its execution interrupted. Anakin stoops, catching you and swiftly fixing you over his shoulder. The impact of his shoulder against your gut expels a grunt from your lips, but you recover yourself. Unable to conjure any other plan, you aimlessly writhe. Pinned, his thick arm fastens around your thighs, and he ignores your hollow strikes at his lower back.

Undeterred, his newfound anger only aids him in completing his endeavor, your ship collapsing entirely, crushed under the weight of Anakin’s immense Force pressure. As if it is as thin as an aluminum can. Fat, hot tears well up at the sound of your last hope extinguishing like a candle’s flame in the rain. Defeated, the heels of your hands dig into your eyes, squeezing out sparkling tears, pitted-pattering onto the floor below. Your sob intensifies as you listen helplessly to the shuttle howling against the deck, screeching while Anakin marches forward, tipping its weight over the edge of the platform. Uncontrollably sniffling, unable to catch your breath, you’re wracked with despair, and you flinch at the crash caused by his misdeeds. 

Your escape, destroyed. The surge of overwhelming emotion spills out of you in sobs, as Anakin returns to his base, with you in hand, retreating from the fiery inferno that was once your transport. 

Is he the hawk? he shakes the thought away.

[nattikay]

stumbled across this post and hoooooooooo boy as someone who studies the Na’vi language as a hobby it was painfully obvious that 95% of the “Na’vi names” were straight-up pulled out of the author’s rear; most of those words do not actually exist in the language and aren’t even valid within its phonology system...so I’m gonna correct it before I implode :P

Small note on why certain things are wrong before we go to the specific words because the author makes all these mistakes a lot:

I’ve mentioned before that tìftang (the apostrophe thing) cannot go between two consonants, so any time you see, for example, t’s or k’n etc, that’s invalid.

You will also never see tìftang as the second letter of a word, as it is only allowed to come at the start or end of a syllable, never in the middle. So a word starting with p’a is also invalid even though there’s a vowel. (you can fix this by adding a second vowel, which creates a second syllable: ap’a which would break down into [ap][’a], or pa’a which could break down into either [pa’][a] or [pa][’a] (doesn’t really matter which, I don’t think)).

The sounds b, g, d, ch, and sh do not exist in the forest dialect of Na’vi. These sounds do technically exist in the reef dialect; however, since this book long predates the existence of the reef dialect and is clearly focused on the forest people, any time you see any of these letters, that is also incorrect. J also does not currently exist in any dialect. 

Lastly, the sound h does exist, BUT it can only begin a syllable, never end one. So you will never see a Na’vi word ending in h such as the English “meh”.

Alrighty, on to the specific debunking:

English term: Baby carrier Fake Na’vi term: “Iveh k’nivi s’dir” Problems: h at the end of a word, tìtang as second letter, tìftang between consonants, D Actual Na’vi term: Prrsmung (derived from prrnen “baby” and sämunge “transportation tool”)

English term: Bladder Lantern Fake Na’vi term: “Tmi nat’sey” Problems: invalid consonant cluster (tm), tìftang between consonants Actual Na’vi term: Tsmisnrr (“food here” would also actually be “syuve fìtseng”)

English term: Blue Flute Fake Na’vi term: “omati s’ampta” Problems: tìftang as second letter, invalid consonant cluster (either mp or pt) Actual Na’vi term: There is currently no canon name for this instrument; however, it cannot be this because s’ampta is phonetically invalid

English term: Hammock Fake Na’vi term: “Eywa k’sey nivi’bri’sta” Problems: tìftang as second letter, tìftang between consonants, B Actual Na’vi term: Nivi (“Eywa cradles everyone” would actually be “Eywal frapot meyam”)

English term: Loom Fake Na’vi term: “Ulivi mari’tsey mak’dini’to” Problems: tìftang between consonants, D Actual Na’vi term: ‘ewrang (regular looms), sa’ewrang (giant “mother” loom)

English term: Fire Pit Fake Na’vi term: “mreki u’lito” Problems: invalid consonant cluster (mr) Actual Na’vi term: There’s not an exact one really, but txep means fire and merki is a ground rack for cooking meats I almost wonder if this one’s mostly just a typo since mreki and merki are so similar...but u’lito is not a real word regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

English term: Leaf Plate Fake Na’vi term: “sumin jilt’luy” or “ulu’tah inlb’sey muisi” Problems: tìftang between consonants, invalid consonant clusters (not even sure how to properly break these down it’s such a mess), h at the end of a word, J, B Actual Na’vi term: Yomyo lerìk (colloquially shortened to just rìk (“leaf”)) this one’s kinda hard to read in the photo so the transcription may be off by a letter or two but I assure you it’s still a mess regardless lol

English term: Personal Belongings Rack Fake Na’vi term: “p’ah s’ivil chey” Problems: tìftang as second letter, h at the end of a word, Ch Actual Na’vi term: Snokfyan (derived from sno “one’s self (reflexive pronoun)” and kurfyan “suspended rack”)

Ok this one is actually really close! Just needs a small grammar fix: Kelutralä tìrol (“song of Hometree” or “Hometree’s song”) (plural version: Kelutralä sìrol)

[the-pan-ace-writings]

Crumbling Fire

warnings- Canon typical violence

Prompt- "Alejandro scolds Rudy after the fire scene for thinking he’d actually leave him to die🥺"

A/N - Prompt again from the Lovely @outro-intoit <3

AO3 link is on the title

Crumbling Fire

   The nights started growing stormy in las Almas, and it was pure fortune that it wasn't downpouring tonight. Station Chief Laswell had sent them off on a capture mission of terrorist Hassan. A mission that left a stone of worry burying itself deeper and deeper into the pit of Rodolfo’s stomach. 

   Something simply wasn't right the increasing actively of the cartel and now this apparent daring risk of transporting a terrorist across the southern boarder was something that was unheard of. And yet here he was following Alejandro's orders into a rundown stash house as he covered the exterior. 

   “Making entry” Rodolfo dropped the radio back onto his chest adjusting his grip on his rifle before entering. A disheveled woman was just a few steps away from him. 

   “Guillermo! Police!'' She called out to the house and the stone of worry turned to dread as a man burst from a door just to the right of the couch, weapon in hand and starting to level it off aiming at Rodolfo. He made quick work of neutralizing the threat that was Guillermo before proceeding to sweep the rest of the floor.

  “Moving to the second floor” 

   He could hear footsteps shuffling around upstairs as he approached the staircase. He caught the movement of another as he crested the stairs, they got one shot off before collapsing in a pool of red slipping down the stairs past Rodolfo. He rushed into the half open door to the restroom, killing a third watching as he dropped into the cracked and stained porcelain of the tub, clearing the rest of the room. 

   Slowly he peaked out of the restroom checking that it was safe to cross to the next closest door. It was shut but not locked and upon entry he he was greeted with an empty but dilapidated bedroom, wall exposed to the framing and a moldy mattress taking up most of the space, the window was shattered and wind was being to pick up the blanket turned curtain tossing it lightly making a ruffling sound that Rodolfo was having a hard time ignoring. 

   He took a moment to collect himself before speaking into his radio.

   "Moving to the last doorway. Second floor. He maybe cornered” 

    “Affirmative, be careful” Alejandro called back to him in his ear piece. 

   Rodolfo kicked the door open, stepping inside to clear the room. He dropped a man in the corner of the room. Stepping further into the room a door in the opposite corner of the now dead man threw open and before Rodolfo could level off and fire he jerked back twisting as blood bloomed from his shoulder ruining his hoodie he grimaced, a shout of pain ripping from him. He felt a solid boot connect with the back of his legs as a rough hand shoved him to the ground.

   He was disoriented but tried to brace himself as he came rushing towards the ground, he grappled with his rifle trying to twist to get other shot off trying to gain control of the room. The air was ripped from him as boots connected with his stomach, his tac vest doing little to protect him. He collapsed onto the dirty carpet, his shoulder leaking out to mix and add to the mess that was the carpet, his rifle was kicked from him. He was wheezing desperately trying to suck in air, to get barings on the room. 

   Heavy footsteps entered from behind him, and a rough and unpleasant voice called out an order that turned Rodolfo's stomach. 

   “Burn Everything” 

   Rodolfo turned onto his back trying to get up, he heard the confirmation of the order from the man who had shot him and the sickly sharp smell of gasoline started to fill the room, tainting the air that Rodolfo was desperately trying to get a lung full of. Hassan stepped closer to Rodolfo reaching down to rip painfully at Rodolfo's hair pulling his head up to look him in his eyes. There was a darkness in Hassan's eyes that sent a spike of dread down his spine, he desperately wished to be able to call out over the radio. 

   “Do you know who I am?” It was an unsettlingly calm and controlled voice for a man that just was smuggled over an international border that was still being closely chased. Rodolfo mustered up a look of defiance staring directly back into cold and calculating eyes. 

   “You're a terrorist. Pendejo.” he was still panting trying to catch the rest of the air but managed to put a great deal of snark in his statement, a rye smile gracing his face. The hand that was buried in his hair shoved him roughly back away from Hassan. 

   “I’m a soldier and here to fight” His soldier stepped forward and trained his rifle to Rodolfo's forehead. He looked back in defiance. “No.” He looked up towards the man that finished pouring the gasoline, a cruel smile menacing  his face, a brief nod and a small chuckle escaped from Hassan as Rodolfo heard the clicking of a lighter and the whooshing of the room catching. “Let him burn, like Ghorbani burned” and he waved his hand as he turned to leave. 

    The blinding pain of a rifle stock to the face knocked Rodolfo the rest of the way to the ground. Sweltering heat and suffocating smoke was already making the room unbearable. He was hardly able to move, his shoulder bleeding profusely and vision blurred.

   “Hey, I'm seeing smoke. What's your status?” Crackling from his ear piece helped him sharpen his attention, clear his vision as he tried to move again. Alejandro's voice was an out of reach comfort to Rodolfo, he coughed, his hand shook as he reached up to grasp the control to his radio “Rodolfo? I'm moving interior” panic shot through Rodolfo and he finally made his fingers work on the controls. His voice was torn already rough from the smoke and the rough treatment of being ambushed, 

   “Colonel, don't- i'm not getting out…” He was a goner at his point as he turned over to his back after another failed attempt to get up, he watched the walls slowly being eaten from the flames, entranced by the oranges and yellows that licked up towards the ceiling. Someone had to stop Hassan and clearly it wasn't going to be him. 

   “Rodolfo! Where are you?!” He could hear the desperation in Alejandro's voice, it brought a frown to his lips and he clicked the controls again. 

   “Listen, Hassan is gone. They're moving him-”    “--Rudy!”  Alejandro's voice was strained but Rodolfo kept speaking over him

   “Something across the Atlantic” He took a second to grab a shaky breath “There’s a ship, delivering somethin-” he cut himself short falling into a coughing fit, he could feel the heat inching closer and closer to him, he started shuffling away from it desperate to escape the singeing heat. He closed his eyes and tears started dotting his eyes burning them. 

   “Hang on, Rudy! I got you!” Rodolfo felt strong hands grasp him under his arms pulling him up to his feet. He cried out in pain as he did so, feeling as if someone twisted a knife in his bullet wound. He sobbed as he was tossed up onto shoulders and Alejandro rushed towards the exit trying his best to avoid larger clouds of smoke as the whole house was engulfed. 

   Cold night air was such a drastic change that it stung his face and brought more tears to his eyes, but the sweet fresh air was a blessing. Alejandro set him down on the tailgate of a pickup truck far away from the burning house. He was breathing roughly and curled in on himself in a coughing fit trying to expel soot from his lungs. Alejandro stood between his knees holding him up as he kept coughing, stress evident on his face. Rodolfo tried to calm the coughing, sitting up more and looking towards Alejandro, he took a small breath to try to speak but felt the sharp sting of acid rushing up his throat as he turned away from Alejandro expelling his stomach onto the pavement. 

   “Rudy!” Alejandro ran a hand down his back and grasped his shoulder trying to hold him up on the truck bed as he spoke into his radio. 

   His words fell on deaf ears as all Rodolfo could hear was the roaring of blood in his ears and the crackling crash of the stash house. He was feeling the effect of blood loss, his sweater was almost soaked through and he could feel the sticky tackiness of blood down his arm and coating his hand. He felt Alejandro lift him up back into an upright position and he cried out again when he felt pressure of gauze pressed to his shoulder. 

   He was coming back to himself again and he could hear a shushing sound come from Alejandro. “I know Rudy, I know it hurts” He felt tugging as Alejandro quickly bandaged him up from the kit attached to his vest. He was pulling him down off the tailgate, “Shh I know Rudy but we have to move, it's not safe here” He practically dragged him into the cab of the truck trying to be gentle with the taller man but only able to do so much as he was almost completely limp. 

   Rudy was softly crying delirious from blood loss, smoke inhalation and pure pain he hardly recognized the truck starting to move head lulling to the side as they started driving back to the compound where he could be given medical attention. He heard Alejandro cry out when his head lulled and he felt a rough hand grip his chin to shake him, eyes bleary he grumbled and attempted to swat at the hand. 

   “please” came out as a whine as he tried to move away, unable to recognize a soft touch at the moment. Alejandro brushed his thumb across his cheek, turned to him momentarily trying to gauge if Rudy was going to make it to the compound.

   “Rudy, Amor you have to keep your eyes open, stay awake for me please” He knew he was begging, but he was terrified of how delirious Rudy was. He grunted and tried to pull away again. Alejandro settled with placing his hand on his collarbone trying to hold him up and being able to feel his pulse as he turned back towards the road trying to get them back in one piece. 

   He could hear the crackling of the building around him and the suffocating darkness of the smoke filling his lungs, his shoulder throbbed and he could feel a boot pressing down on his stomach pushing out any of the remaining clean air in his lungs. He could hear laughing from all corners of the room as the pressure on his chest increased. The static of a radio sounded in his ear and he could hear orders for movement away from the burning structure, leaving him behind. “You told him to. Don't you cry” it was Hassan's voice filling the room overcoming the cracking and creaking of the fire. The boot moved from his chest to his shoulder and he could feel the flames start to lick at him. He was screaming, begging for help. 

“Everyone is accounted for sir, ready to move out” Hassan spoke into a radio but his voice was that of another officer of the Los Vaqueros. Alejandro called back in affirmative. 

“Please! Please Alejandro I'm not with you! Please stop I'm still in the building” he tried to cry out but his vision kept getting darker and he felt the burning caress that was the flames and he simply just screamed. 

   Rodolfo's eyes shot open a strangled grasp getting stuck in his throat, he was hyperventilating and was grasping at his hair. He could hear an alarm chirping around him and he clenched his eyes shut curling in on himself trying to keep from crying. 

   Light hands brushed down his arms and tried to pull his fingers away from his hair, but he shook his head burying it further into his arms. 

   “Rudy,,, Rudy Vida please” it was soft and brought comfort to his panic, Rodolfo loosened his grip on himself, Alejandro pulled his hand from his hair and pressed it to his own chest. He was taking deep controlled breaths and was urging Rodolfo to do the same. It took a while but eventually Rodolfo was calming down and had opened his eyes again.

   They're in the infirmary of the compound, in one of the private rooms instead in the general triage. Alejandro stood firm as a guard to Rodolfo, looking as strong and stunning and Rodolfo could remember. He curled his fingers into his shirt and Alejandro looked back to him solid as ever and petted down his arm until he reached his face, he stepped closer to Rodolfo cupping his face with both hands carding his fingers through his hair, neatening up from where Rodolfo messed it up. 

   “Rodolfo, I cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it, please don't ever ask me to leave you behind again.” He pressed his forehead to Rodolfo's, who stared up at him admiringly although it was clouded over with painkillers that came to him though his IV. His face crumpled momentarily and he was crying, grabbing desperately at Alejandro pulling him down onto the small hospital bed and pressing his face into his chest. 

   “I'm sorry, please I'm so sorry,, you can't leave me behind please I'm sorry”  Rudy was gasping his words out and kept pressing further into Alejandro like he was trying to get into his skin. “You can't leave me behind, i'm sorr-”

   “Please, please just listen to me Rudy,” Alejandro was pulling him up just enough to look him in the eye, hands cupping his face and brushing tears away from his cheeks. “I am so very much in love with you and I will never. Ever. leave you behind. I wasn't going to leave you behind at that house. I would never leave you behind.” He held Rudy until he stopped shaking and his tears came no more. He kept his forehead pressed to Rudy’s. 

   His words settled his mind, like a warm blanket. He calmed the turmoil of his mind so easily it made him jealous. He took a final calming breath and pressed his nose against Alejandro's and could feel his breath against his face. Rudy pressed closer, lips locking with his. 

   It was soft and slow, like saying hello for the first time, he felt one of Alejandro's hands move from cupping his face to caress his neck, his thumb brushing over his pulse point and he melted into the kiss. They pulled away slowly, keeping close, Rudy tucked his head into the crook of his neck. 

   “I love you Alejandro” he pressed a soft kiss to his pulse point and let Alejandro situate them so he was settled in his arms without any of his leads or monitors being pulled on. He felt another wave of painkillers working as he slowly slipped into sleep as fingers traced patterns down his arm and over the top of his palm ever light against bandages. 

   He felt the warm press of lips against his temple and felt the soft rumble of Alejandro's voice on his back. “I love you too Rudy, Always.” 

[avercado5]

Who else has noticed the way the old imperials view Hux v.s. the way Hux actually acts?

For instance, I was just now comparing this scene from the TLJ novelization to the movie:

"Before Peavey could consult with Yago, Hux swept onto the bridge, looking agitated. His boot heels rang on the polished deck. "Sir, the Resistance cruiser is preparing to jump to lightspeed," amonitor called up from one of the crew pits. Peavey turned an inquiring glance at Hux, hoping the hotheaded young general wouldn't do something rash. For once, he didn't. "It's empty," Hux sneered. "They're just trying to pull our attention away. Pathetic. Keep your fire on those transports.""

According to Peavey, Hux is agitated, hotheaded, and sneering.

So, i checked this description with the movie, and geez it couldn't have been more different. In the movie, Hux walks into the bridge calmly, stands by the viewport, and says the very same line calmly and confidently.

So basically, these old imperials have zero respect for Hux because they fabricate this unintelligent, emotionally driven, hotheaded character for him. They're jealous, and they refuse to see him as he really is, even when his actions obviously don't match up with their perception of him.

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

Royal Black Watch Regiment TO&E (3153):

Trinary 1:

1a. Regimental Command Supernova- "Claymore"

1x HGN-732bM (Regimental Command Mech; COMGEN Melissa Hazen)

1x AS7-K3T (Nova Captain MAJ Theodora Marten-Steiner)

1x AWS-9Q-K (Regimental Senior Enlisted WO Karrie DeLacey; also Unit Chief Technician)

1x OC-1Xb (Quick Reaction Fire Support)

1x CP-10-HQb (Forward Base Defense & Headquarters Transport)

1x RPT-3Xb (Quick Reaction Reconnaissance Asset; attached from Supernova 1 "Dirk")

1x Infantry Star (Armored; Special TO&E; 2/5ths Elemental BW, 3/5ths Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry w/ Tornado G17 PA(L); Elite/Reliable)

1b. Supernova 1 - "Dirk"

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb (currently attached to Command Nova)

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

1c. Supernova 2 - "Broadsword"

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

Trinary 2:

2a. Command Supernova - “Baselard”

1x HGN-732Ic

3x HGN-732Ib

1x OC-1Xb (Quick Reaction Fire Support)

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry w/ Tornado G17 PA(L); Elite/Reliable)

2b. Supernova 1 - “Cutlass”

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb (currently attached to Command Nova)

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

2c. Supernova 2 - “Falchion”

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

Trinary 3:

3a. Command Supernova - “Longsword”

1x HGN-732Ic

3x HGN-732Ib

1x OC-1Xb (Quick Reaction Fire Support)

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry w/ Tornado G17 PA(L); Elite/Reliable)

3b. Supernova 1 - “Sabre”

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb (currently attached to Command Nova)

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

3c. Supernova 2 - “Gladius”

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

Support Sections:

4. Regimental Engineering/MechTechBattalion – “Brunel” (not drop capable)

5x BattleMech Recovery Vehicle

15x Heavy BattleMech Recovery Vehicle

12x Savior Repair Vehicle

12x Paramour Repair Vehicle

40x J-37 Ordnance Transports

10x Pit Bull Medium Trucks

40x Coolant Trucks

5x Hoplite HMMWV

5. Regimental Headquarters Support Battalion - “Chieftain” (not drop capable)

3x Gossamer Drones + 3x Sasayaku Control Transports (Strategic Recon Section)

3x Beagle Hover Scouts (Beagle TAG variant; Battlefield Awareness Section)

1x Praetorian Mobile Strategic HQ

8x Mobile Point Defense System

7x Burro Heavy Support Trucks (1x Water Tanker, 3x Fuel Tanker, 3x Cargo)

6x GESV Mobile Field Kitchen + Field Kitchen Trailer

15x Pit Bull Medium Trucks

3x Hoplite HMMWV

6. Regimental Artillery Battalion - “Caber” (not drop capable)

9x Mobile Long Tom (LT-MOB-95 variant)

1x Pit Bull Medium Truck

3x Burro Heavy Support Trucks (2x Cargo, 1x Fuel Tanker)

9x J-37 Ordnance Transports

1x Tribune Tactical Mobile HQ

4x Hoplite HMWVV

7. Regimental Medical Company - “Fleming” (not drop capable):

10x GESV (MASH configuration) + GESV Medical Trailer

5x Soar Medical VTOL (Militarized variant)

4x Burro Heavy Support Trucks (x2 Fuel Tankers; x2 Cargo)