#dont force hc's

[ninjasmudge]

shamura <3 <3 <3 i like to think theyre abt 8ft tall even when theyre mortal, and that narinder is very very similar to them in everything from posture to phrases, which causes... Conflicting feelings

i also like to think narinder remembers how youre supposed to hold kittens but doesnt remember how he knows

[python333]

need a ride? — python333

— — — —

synopsis ur walking home from school and theres a weirdo following you, luckily the 141 are there and they help u out!! :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap (for like 2 seconds, so sorry soap enjoyers), ghost, gaz.

word count 2.4k

warnings a creepy old man following [reader], [reader] intended to be in high school, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of y/n [your name].

note i have like 5 drafts and all of them are requests from people so im so sorry i havent been working on those!! i pinky prom once i get the motivation to write them--which probably sounds weird since i wrote this but trust me when i had to force myself to write this lmao--i will be posting them :3 i hope u all enjoy this fic, its all fluff and emotional hurt/comfort + protective-ish 141!!

You really wish you had listened to that first warning light. 

For a whole two days, your car had been in an auto repair shop, because you decided to ignore four whole warnings signs that something was seriously wrong with your car. Suspension and alignment issues, they’d told you yesterday, The wheels need to be realigned, the damaged suspension components need to be replaced, and the whole thing would take a day or two.

Fast forward to now, it’s 3:30 in the afternoon and you’ve been walking from school to your house for about ten minutes. The sun is close to being fully set—one of the worst parts of winter—and there’s been a guy following you for about five minutes now. 

He showed up once you’d exited the school premises and since then had been very determined to follow you home. You obviously did not want this to happen. But it didn’t matter if you walked faster, because he would only match your pace. If you tried to run, you assume, he’d just run after you, and seeing as he had far longer legs than you—you were pretty fucked if you decided to run. 

You would try to call an Uber, but your phone had been dead since fifth period. And you would try and catch a bus or something, but there were no bus stops near where you live, and even if there were, you weren’t carrying any cash or any cards on you. 

So, again, you’re pretty fucked. 

You look back at the man again, and turn your head right back around to look ahead of yourself once you see him looking right back at you, closer than you remember him being. Is he walking faster? Do I have to walk faster? 

You let out a shaky breath and keep walking, speeding up your walk just a bit and widening your strides, trying to think of what you should do. You didn’t want to just lead him to your house, that was just stupid. But you couldn’t just not go home—where else would you go? 

You continue to walk, speeding up a bit when you start to hear the man behind you speed up, and you try to control your panicked breathing. What are you supposed to do? You mentally curse yourself out for not carrying any self defense on your person, and continue your walking. 

Then suddenly, as if they were sent by God himself, you see four men come into view—one with a mohawk, one wearing some sort of skull mask-balaclava, one with sunglasses on even when the sun is almost set, and one with a boonie hat on—all walking together, all engaged in a casual conversation. 

You wonder for a moment if you should try and get closer to them to see if the guy would leave you alone. You hear the guy behind you speed up as you think and you take a deep breath before walking significantly faster to get closer to the men ahead of you. 

Am I really gonna trust a group that has a guy wearing a fucking skull mask in it? You hear the man behind you speed up as well and you speed up in retaliation, trying to think more about what to do, Do I just walk near them or do I straight up pretend I know them?

You think that the second option would be more likely to ward the weirdo following you away, but how would you even go about it? Do you just walk near them, or actually talk to them and join in on their conversation? 

You look behind you again and see the man significantly closer to you.

Deciding to take the risk, you rush up to them, swallowing down your panic when you hear the man behind you’s footsteps speed up to try and match your own speed. 

“Hey, guys!” All four of the guys turn around to look at you, their expressions all varying looks of confusion as you continue to talk, “Crazy seeing you guys here, it— it’s been so long.” 

You try to get as close to them as possible while not touching them and end up standing right by who you assume is the oldest. You try to subtly gesture to the man who was just following you, and the man you’re standing next to seems even more confused for a moment. 

“Uh, I don—” One of his friends cuts him off with a swat to the arm and when he turns his head to look at them in confusion, they nod over at the man whose just now catching up with you, and his mouth shapes into an ‘o’ before he looks back at you with a bit more understanding in his eyes. 

“Right, yeah, it has been really long,” He corrects himself, the other two of his friends catching on and stepping closer to you, almost creating a shield around you. He looks you over for a moment, before asking, “You just get out of school?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” You nod, grateful that they caught on, hoping your gratitude is somewhat apparent, “About ten minutes ago.”

“Nobody picked you up this time?” The older man asks, tilting his head to the side a bit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the man who’d been following you getting closer, but you force yourself to ignore him. 

“Yeah, no, everyone was kind of busy, so I have to walk home,” You respond, shoving your hands into the pocket of your hoodie to hide their shakiness as the other man stopped to stare at you two’s conversation. 

“Aw, well that sucks,” The other man frowns, before offering, “I was just heading back to my car, I could drive you back to your house? It’s on the way to the hotel we’re staying at, anyway.” 

You hesitate, trying to see if the man who’d been following you was still there, and much to your disappointment, he was. It was like he was just waiting for you to make a decision. 

Not knowing if you had any other choice, you nod affirmatively, “Yeah, sure. If that’s okay.” 

The older man gives you a small smile and pats your shoulder, “Of course it’s okay. I don’t want you just walking out here by yourself.”  

You almost sobbed in relief when you heard the creep that was following you scoff and finally walk back to wherever he came from after hearing that you accepted their offer of a ride. The older man takes his hand off of your shoulder and looks over, noticing the man has left as well, then looks back at you with a more concerned expression on his face. 

“Sorry, I almost gave you away at the beginning there,” He sincerely apologizes. 

“It’s fine, he probably didn’t even notice,” You put on a small smile and take a deep breath before adding on, “Thank you for that. I didn’t think he was ever gonna go away.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” The older man smiles at you, and tacks on, “I was serious about the ride, by the way. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.” 

You pause for a moment at that and think about if you trust them enough to have him drive you to your house and know your address and everything. 

“It’s my car, by the way,” The guy with the sunglasses butts in, “I’m the one paying for it. No clue why he said it was his.” 

“Because it was easier than saying it was yours,” The other guy sighs. 

“Actually—” The one with a mohawk interrupts, before immediately being cut off by the other two with a simple ‘shut up’. He rolls his eyes, and does indeed shut up. 

The one with a skull mask must notice your slight confusion, because he comments, “We’re renting a car for this week. Gaz is paying for it.” 

“Don’t call me Gaz in public,” Gaz grumbles, “That’s weird. Just call me Kyle.” 

“That sounds weirder,” The one with the skull mask argues, before the one with the almost-bucket hat sighs exasperatedly, the sound enough to make the two others shut up. 

“Uh…” All their attention is back on you as you talk, making you resist the urge to shrink back in on yourself, “I mean, if you guys are totally okay with it, then I’d be… okay with getting a ride home.” 

“Great!” Gaz smiles at you before dropping the smile and turning to the one with the skull mask, “You’re getting an Uber or something. I’m not driving you after that.” 

“Wh—” The one in the skull mask, despite you only being able to see his eyes, looks baffled, “I didn’t do anything, fuckin’ kick out Soap or something!” 

“Me? Why me?” The one with the mohawk—Soap, you assume—squawks, watching as Gaz actually thinks about it before nodding. 

“Good point. Soap, call an Uber so…” Gaz pauses before turning to you, “What’s your name, love?” 

You give him your name and he nods before turning back to Soap, “So that [y/n] can take your spot in the car.” 

“I—” Soap begins to argue, before sighing and rolling his eyes, reaching into his back pocket for his phone, “Fine. Whatever. Fuck all of ye.” 

“Sorrows, sorrows, prayers,” Gaz says dryly before turning back to you, “The car’s just another block up.” 

“Got it,” You nod, “So I should just follow you guys then, or…?”

“Yeah,” Gaz confirms, “Stay a little closer in case that guy decides to come back, or if anyone else tries to follow you, alright, love?” 

You nod again and take another step closer to the man with the skull mask and follow everyone else as they continue walking down to their car. They’re silent for the rest of the walk back, the man in the skull mask and the one with the almost-dad-going-fishing-hat keeping an eye out for any creeps while Gaz leads the way to the car. 

Once you’ve all reached the car, Gaz unlocks it and the man in the skull mask and the one in the almost-bass-pro-shops-hat immediately get into the back seats, letting you have shotgun. You mentally thank them for it and wordlessly get into the passenger’s seat, happy that it’s not too dirty in the car, closing the car door once you’re in. 

You buckle yourself in immediately and look right out the front window whilst Gaz gets in. This definitely won’t end up in me being kidnapped, You tell yourself, Totally not. This is the best idea I’ve ever had. Getting in a car with someone who goes by Gaz, someone who wears a mask from Spirit Halloween, and someone’s dad who somehow ended up here. Fucking perfect idea. I should do this more often.

Gaz gets in and buckles himself in, putting the car key into the ignition and twisting it, starting up the engine. You continue to stare out the window wordlessly as Gaz pulls out of the parking lot he’d been in and gets onto the road. 

“Could you give me the directions to get to your place?” He asks you once he’s stopped at a red light right outside of the parking lot. Silently, you nod. 

“Yeah, just, uh, keep going straight then take a left on Monroe,” You instruct him quietly. He nods and presses on the gas once the light turns green, continuing straight like you’d said. 

“You alright?” The bearded man in the back pipes up, making you twist your head back to look at him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You assure him, half-lying, “Just a little tired and creeped out.” 

“Reasonable,” He hums, before adding on, “I’m John, by the way, and this is Simon.” 

Simon, the dude wearing the Spirit Halloween mask, perks up at the sound of his name, but otherwise doesn’t say anything. 

“Good to know,” You respond, wondering if you should say anything else before awkwardly turning back in your seat to continue staring out the window, watching as Gaz takes a left. 

“Take the next right, then just continue straight and then take a right on Balboa,” You tell him. He nods and takes the next right just as you told him to. 

It’s probably safe to assume they aren’t kidnapping you, You think, your breathing finally back to normal now that you know you’re probably not in any danger. 

“So what’s with the name ‘Gaz’?” You ask Gaz without thinking, tired of the silence in the car. Based on the way Gaz groans and John huffs out a laugh, you assume it’s somewhat of a long story. 

“It’s kind of a long story?” Bingo. “But in short, I just don’t talk too much, and someone decided to make a big deal out of that.” 

“I never made it a big deal!” John insists, all while Simon looks at him like he knows he’s lying, “It’s just a nickname!” 

You listen in on their bickering, grateful to finally have some noise in the car, and huff out a small, amused laugh at their antics. 

Soon enough, Gaz is turning right on Balboa, and he drives right into your neighborhood. 

“It’s the house right up there,” You point to it, and he looks at the house you pointed at and speeds up a bit to reach it faster. 

Once he’s at the house he thinks you pointed at, he asks, “This one, right?” and pulls into the driveway when you nod in confirmation. 

He parks the car in your driveway and turns off the engine, immediately unlocking the car and turning to you. 

“Well, I hope you have a good rest of your day,” He says politely, offering you a smile. 

“Thank you, you too,” You smile back, feeling a little bad for being so eager to get out of the car. Then again, you really just want to get inside of your house where it’s safe, so you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door. 

You carefully get out and close it behind you, fishing your keys out from your back pocket, walking up to the front door of your house and unlocking it, only hearing Gaz’s car pulling out of your driveway after you’ve successfully opened your front door. 

You yawn as you walk in, and close the door behind you, toeing off your shoes and leaving them by the front door.

You think, in the back of your head, about how weird it is that you didn’t get kidnapped despite that being the perfect opportunity for them to do so—but you don’t think about it too hard. You’re just grateful to have gotten home safe.

[milesonsight]

one of those showers thoughts that won't let me go!! you guys... you guys got the JOKE RIGHT? Vulpes got... top surgery scars...that means that he-he aaaaah he is a men and like, a men is superior to a women in the legion and ah... ahhhh he is a legionary so like... like yea that's the joke yea

[ossy-serenity]

Can you please draw my design for Kevin? I'm curious how it would look the way you draw. Thank you 😊!

Scrunkly

[circusclowne]

do yall fw rarepairs

[sualne]

they are losing

[itsindiana]

gang i don't know what to do with myself i need more than 2 more bad batch episodes . c'mere and yap about anything bad batch / clone / etc etc related i need to feel alive

[hayaku14]

gymnast kaito x sharpshooter shinichi meet-cute in the olympics au

[tenderjock]

things i strongly headcanon re: agent carter trio families include: jack being the rural rich midwestern dead-middle child of five boys who all went into the navy and a mom who had severe post partum depression and was loving, and actually favored him the most of all her boys, but was mostly absent for much of his life;

daniel being a nice portuguese catholic boy from suburban NJ and having three older sisters and a single dad, bc his mom died giving birth to him, who all tried their best to support the baby of the family when he came home from war with no leg and a chip on his shoulder;

and peggy not hating her family, not even wanting to cut her family off, but finding herself unable to talk to her parents without feeling infuriated and/or close to tears after michael died and they objected to her doing the only thing she felt would give life - not just her life, but life in general - meaning.

[natsmagi]

sorry for making yet another textpost but i came across that post saying they dislike transfem natsume because he "canonically hates being perceived as a girl and tries to erase all sorts of memories related to that" and also went on to shame genderbends of him aswell. So, as someone who not only draws genderbends of natsume but is myself someone who is nonbinary and hates being perceived as a woman, i thought id offer my two cents

first of all; i think its important to note that natsume does NOT hate his childhood. in fact, hes quite happy that he had such an unusual upbringing!

what natsume hates is being perceived as weak. thats why he was raised as a girl after all, it was his mother trying to protect him from evil spirits. he doesnt hate the whole "-chan" or "wearing dresses" thing because he has a hatred for womanhood, its because due to his upbringing hes now come to associate those things as being weak. he begs tsumugi to forget about it because that means tsumugi remembers natsume being weak, and natsume thinks tsumugi still referring to him as "natsume-chan" means he still sees natsume as weak. (iirc natsume did however once say that he is a little sad that he doesnt really know how to relate to young boys due to this in poltergeist, but i couldnt find the exact quote. either way that just adds to the complexity of natsumes relationship with his childhood, because while he is happy to be "abnormal" in that sense, it has left him lacking in some areas)

i have to ask though, should this conflict of his not be something we hope he overcomes? should we not want him to develop a healthy relationship with various gender expressions? should we not want natsume to overcome his belief that feminine things = weakness? i want natsume to reach a point where he can wear feminine clothing and not feel like some damsel in distress because of it. i want natsumes character to grow. i want him to develop a positive relationship with his gender because natsume DOES enjoy some more typically feminine things, like baking! he used to bake with his mom when he was little! and i want him to feel like he can indulge in that side of him without feeling insecure.....

i LOVE transmasc natsume, my primary hc for him is transmasc nonbinary after all, but with all these things considered, shouldnt people be allowed to headcanon him however they want? if they hear his story and negative relationship with femininity and how that resonates with them and they themselves are transfem, should they not be allowed to hc him as such too?

which brings me to my next point; my own personal relationship with gender and femininity. i was raised as a girl and i fucking DESPISED womanhood. i hated everything about it. i hated how i felt forced into a box i didnt want to be stuck in, and i hated how it felt like my whole life had already been planned out for me due to societal expectations, aswell as me needing to present a certain way. i was peak "tomboy" growing up, constantly wearing super baggy clothes and wouldnt even brush my hair alot of the time. but despite that i remained miserable. i frankly hated how i looked and would constantly dye my hair vibrant colors in an attempt to make me like myself a little more. it wasnt until i realized "wow, im actually not a girl at all" that i finally let go of believing i needed to look a certain way (and thus, defying it) and started to dress for myself. i started to dress in clothes that made me happy and feel pretty! alot of which leans feminine, but clothes doesnt have a gender, and how you dress doesnt define your gender either, but it can still be a bit scary yknow? especially since i dont want people to think of me as a girl, and drawing a bunch of femstars has really made me learn to love myself more in a funny way. i can put these characters in clothes i think are beautiful, i can explore the more feminine parts of me that i adore but dont want to express in public due to how i want others to perceive me, but it has also warmed me up to femininity even more. because femstars to me feels detached from the expectations of society because its not a real thing!! there are no canon femstars designs!!! i can do literally whatever the hell i want with it and its been so liberating to me!!

all this to say; i think it really sucks seeing the way this fandom treats transfem hcs and explicit genderbends, because like ive said before; they can truly be something so personal. you dont know why that person is drawing what theyre drawing, so its a little unwise to make assumptions based on ........ Well, whatever it may be. i know very well that women dressing the way society expects them to SUCKS, esp if you have personal ties to it, but you have to realize the issue isnt femininity, but misogyny.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

https://x.com/d3kutism/status/1741579841764475157?s=46

it should be illegal to be this fucking stupid so loudly and confidently omg..

mfs on the internet preach about "media literacy" yet they completely gloss over the fact that the only damn things that kusuo "canonically" is are a tsundere, an unreliable narrator, and a fucking liar LMFAOOO.. babe thats like basic reading comprehension, im sorry..

EDIT: it should go without saying not to send a person hate just because of a silly post like this one(+i dont have any reach anyway so im sure it wouldnt happen, but i wanna say this nonetheless lol) but i would just like to say that i just checked and realized that this person is 15 years old, so like... yeah, too young to be arguing with grown people on the internet. dont take this too serious or send this person hate pls lol..

[bolithesenate]

hi, your post about Padawan Shenanigans was very excellent, and also im so intrigued by the bit you put in the tags about the padawans adopting a random sad mando. just. normally the trope is that a mando adopts a sad padawan but i just think the concept of a sad middle aged mando getting unexpectedly adopted by a jedi padawan is So Funny. poor mando is so confused. theyre getting smuggled into the temple like contraband snacks at the movie theater, and they go along with it because Its Been That Kind Of Day.

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR AGGRESSIVELY SOCIAL JEDI

this is actually 100% intentional, you know. I THRIVE on trope-subversion and omg Jedi adopting random people or even mandos into their order is one of the big ones!

it's an obsession really!

you know, sometimes someone is just really jedi shaped. they don't even have to be force-sensitive. it's anout The Vibes. And also about helping people.

which is like what the jedi are all about.

Also, is there anything funnier to imagine than a Full Mando suddenly waking up in an unfamiliar place with the worst hangover ever only to realize he's been stashed under the bed of a child of their mortal enemy. But then they get the best hangover cure smuggled to them that they ever got to try, so....

poor master of that particular padawan almost gets a heart attack when they find a whole mandalorian stashed away in the spice cabinet, but it's fine bc they are very polite and also know how to make the best pancakes ever.

[python333]

task force 141 reacting to [reader] having excessively watery eyes — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the title says once again! tf141 and their reactions to [reader] having excessively watery eyes. if you want to get a bit more medical, the term for it would just be 'high tear drainage capacity'! it's basically just something some people have where they naturally just produce more tears and as a result their eyes water excessively at (as far as i know) random times!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. john price, soap, ghost, gaz.

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

note i was watching super 8 when i got this idea, because my eyes got watery all of a sudden while watching it and i was like 'omg i should post this on tumblr' because i'm a writing whore so here i am again. my fingers hurt from typing all the things in html to make the text small and shit but we still up!!

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ he thinks you’re crying at first.

➥ it’s not his fault! he had no idea your eyes just water up randomly.

➥ when he sees your eyes well up with tears, depending on how close y’all are, his fatherly instincts—which he, obviously, developed after meeting gaz—kick in immediately.

➥ “Are you okay, [c/n]?” “Why are you crying?” “Did something happen? What happened?” “... What do you mean?” “This is normal?”

➥ he’s kind of embarrassed for worrying so much after you reassure him that you were okay and that your eyes just excessively water, to be honest.

➥ he’s glad that you’re okay though, obviously.

➥ he never really gets used to seeing you tear up randomly? even though you told him it was normal?

➥ like he knows that 99% of the time you tear up it’s just because you do that, but he still likes to be sure that you’re okay, so he always makes sure to ask if you’re okay.

➥ he’s such!! a father!! i’m crying!! and it's not just my excessive eye watering!!

—

You both had just been hanging out in the recreation center, Price on the couch and you sitting on a chair right by that couch. You were scrolling through your phone, while Price was reading the newspaper—usual old man activities. While scrolling through your social media feed, you didn’t even notice the way tears started to well up in your eyes until your vision got blurry and you felt a small, wet trail of a single tear roll down your cheek.

You’d sighed and pulled a pocket-sized tissue pack out out your pocket, pulling out a tissue and dabbing at your eyes, ridding them of the tears. Of course, the tears didn’t just stop there, they kept coming, so you kept wiping and dabbing at your eyes, hoping that they would go away soon. This was a fairly regular occurrence— for you.

Price caught sight of this and immediately looked worried. He stared at you for a moment as you wiped your eyes, wondering if he should speak up, and eventually had tentatively asked, “Are you okay, [c/n]?”

You looked over at him and pulled the tissue away from your face for a moment, “Yeah, why?” Your voice didn’t sound strained or hoarse like Price had expected, seeing as you were practically crying.

“You’re crying,” Price had pointed out, pointing to your eyes as if you couldn’t notice it, “Did something happen?”

You sat there, a bit dumbfounded, and Price took your silence as hesitation to tell him what was going on. “You can tell me what’s going on, [c/n]. I won’t judge you,” He’d reassured you softly, setting down his book and putting all of his attention on you.

Oh God. “Nothing happened,” You’d quickly assured him, “This is normal, don’t worry about it.”

“... What do you mean, ‘this is normal’?” Price asked, now confused as well as concerned, “You cry often, mate?”

“I mean, kind of?” You had replied, before sighing and clarifying, “My eyes just water up a lot. It’s not really crying.”

“Oh,” Price said dumbly, before nodding and giving you one last concerned look, “Right, then. Uh… sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” You smiled at him, going back to dabbing at your eyes with a tissue, while he reluctantly went back to his book.

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ can’t mind his own business for the life of him.

➥ similar to price, he thinks you’re crying at first.

➥ but he doesn’t hesitate at all, the moment he sees you tearing up he’s like ‘woah what the fuck are you okay??’

➥ you have to firmly tell him that yes, you’re okay, you just have very watery eyes.

➥ he still offers to get you tissues and some water, worried by the amount of tears you’re producing, thinking you’re gonna get really dehydrated.

➥ makes sure you’re completely okay and that you’re not just making this all up to hide the fact that you’re actually crying.

➥ after that whole interaction, he doesn’t get as worried when your eyes randomly water up, and instead teases you about it.

➥ learns to know when you’re actually crying, just so that he can offer comfort when it’s appropriate, and tease you when it’s appropriate.

—

The two of you were hanging out in Ghost’s room, since his was cleaner than the both of your’s combined, and he was away on a mission. Soap laid down on Ghost’s bed while you were sitting on the edge of the same bed, the sheets and blankets wrinkled from you both moving around on the bed. Soap was scrolling through his phone while you sat opposite of him and read a book Price had recommended to you—in his usual old man pseudo-father fashion, he’d told you to spend less time on your phone and ‘read a damn book’—so you were doing just that.

It was when you’d just reached chapter six when your vision got blurry and you sighed, knowing what was happening already. It was just annoying, honestly, having to pull out your tissues every ten minutes because your stupid tear ducts couldn’t function properly. When you went to pull out the mini tissue pack you always carried with you—or so you thought—you were surprised to find that the familiar plastic rectangle of tissues were nowhere to be found in your pockets. You checked your back pockets, front pockets, and yet they weren’t in either.

You let out a small, frustrated sigh through your nose and got up from the bed, the movement making Soap look up and over at you.

“Hey, where are ye—blimey, are ye cryin’?” Soap questioned, his questioning tone quickly becoming concerned, “Are ye alright? It wasnae the book that made ye cry, aye?”

You looked back at Soap, sighing, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt, “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t even worry about it, it’s normal, I just need to go get some tissues.”

“What dae ye mean this is normal?” Soap asked, sitting up. I just want to grab tissues, man, You think, miserably before short explanation that yes, you’re okay, no, you’re not crying, your eyes are just watery—basically the same answer you give every who eventually asks about your little ‘quirk’.

“Ye sure ye’re alright?” Soap asked, just making sure you’re actually okay, “Ye’re definitely no’ crying?”

“Definitely not crying,” You confirmed, “Just watery eyes.”

“Alright, then,” Soap breathed out, relieved that you were okay, before getting up and asking, “Dae ye need some tissues, water, anythin’?”

“Just tissues,” You answered, walking towards the door, “I can get them—”

“Nah, nah, ye stay richt there!” Soap quickly said, somehow getting to the door before you despite him having been right in front of the bed moments earlier, “I’ll get it!”

You watched him run out the door at a speed comparable to the usain bolt and stayed there for a moment, just staring at the now opened door, before huffing out a small laugh and heading back to the bed and sitting down.

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ he doesn’t notice until you’re wiping at your eyes and huffing in frustration when tears keep coming.

➥ the first time it happened, he didn’t ask if you were alright verbally, but did shoulder nudge you and gave you a look that asks ‘are you okay?’

➥ when you nodded and continued wiping at your eyes, ghost gave you one last look before trusting that you were okay and continuing on with his day.

➥ he pretended he didn’t care but thought about it for a bit afterwards, especially if you guys are really close.

➥ he asked price if you tearing up is just a normal thing or if you were actually crying, and let himself relax when he was told that yes, your eyes just water up randomly.

➥ he’s naturally a very observant person and will be able to tell when you’re actually crying fairly quickly.

➥ he’ll still look you over to make sure you’re okay, of course, just to double check, but once he’s confirmed that your eyes are just getting watery again he’ll let himself relax.

➥ depending on how close you both are, he’ll carry around a pack of tissues for you.

—

You and Ghost were in a helicopter, another mission successful. It wasn’t the worst one you’d had—but it was far from easy to accomplish. You were reasonably tired after this mission, all the leftover adrenaline wearing off, making you slump a bit in your seat.

You were just about to close your eyes to rest them, when suddenly you realized how blurry your vision had gotten. You were confused for a moment before realizing—oh, right, that happens.

You sighed, knowing you didn’t bring your usual pack of tissues with you, thinking it would just take up useless space in the pockets of your tactical gear. You wiped your eyes with the gloves you’d been wearing, albeit they weren’t the best option but the sleeves of your shirt were far too short for you to use, the hem of your shirt was dirty, and while your gloves were dirty as well, the back of them weren’t nearly as filthy as the hem of your shirt.

As you wiped away with the back of your glove, Ghost noticed your watery eyes and nudged your shoulder with his own. You paused and pulled your hand away from your eye, giving him a questioning look. He didn’t say anything, but instead gave you a questioning look back, a look you assumed to be one that asked, ‘are you okay?’, judging by the way his eyes darted to your own very watery ones. You nodded, mouthing the words ‘I’m okay’, and he nodded back, going back to staring ahead of him.

Hours after you had gotten off the helicopter, you were walking by Price’s office, and couldn’t help but hear Ghost’s voice. Being the nosy person you are, you cautiously pressed your ear to the door.

“—don’t worry, it’s normal,” You heard Price reassuring Ghost, “I doubt they’d cry after a mission like that, anyway.”

“And they’ve told you it’s normal?” Ghost asked, just to confirm, “You know this for a fact?”

You didn’t stay long enough to hear the rest of the conversation, instead walking away and suppressing a smile at Ghost’s mildly worried tone.

—

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

➥ he notices pretty quickly.

➥ no matter how many times he’s caught you tearing up, he’ll still ask you if you’re okay.

➥ he makes sure to bring a clean handkerchief with him, just incase you forget your tissues.

➥ he’ll even bring it with him on missions, knowing you don’t want to bring your small pack of tissues with you.

➥ the first time he catches your eyes watering up, he gets pretty worried.

➥ he makes sure not to make a big deal out of it though, trying to be as considerate as possible, and instead quietly asks you if you’re okay.

➥ when you reassure him that you are and tell him your eyes are just naturally watery, he’s pretty relieved, and lets it go.

➥ he trusts that you told him the truth, and doesn’t question you again after that.

➥ around the fifth time it’d happened, he’d grown pretty used to it, so when you started tearing up walking back to the rendezvous point with him after a mission, he had a handkerchief ready for you.

—

You panted while you walked, trying to get your breathing under control. You’d done a lot of running today—while you were pretty fit, and could run perfectly fine, you didn’t particularly like running as fast as you can away from enemy soldiers while your teammates shot them down, leaving you praying that the bullets that tailed your feet didn’t hit you.

Eventually, you got your breath under control, but immediately afterwards, your eyes had started to water.

You sighed and were about to wipe at your eyes with your hands, before your hand was stopped mid air. You looked over at Gaz, who had caught your hand by the wrist and offered you a handkerchief with his free hand.

The handkerchief was fairly clean, and you grabbed it, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as you did. Gaz smiled at you and gave you a simple pat on the shoulder.

Once the two of you reached the rendezvous point, you handed him back the handkerchief, hoping that your grateful smile was enough to express your full gratitude.

[joculatrixster]

listen, as someone who watched grian as evo and yandere highschool were being released and knew him for years from those series long before i cared about hermitcraft...if yall r going to include yhs ur angsy fics and hcs i refuse to take u seriously until i see someone acknowledge his abusive romantic relationship w the necronamicon bc why am i the only person who remembers that he was fucked up by that book

[the-doggy-diaries]

should i share my mane six headcanons ... im not sure how much yall wld like yhem but they are near and dear 2 me and i have been working bery hard on them ...

[bunnieswithknives]

As an avid D&D player and DM, I love this magic system you've created so much- bc it means that necromancy exists like it does in D&D, but because David is David (TM), he just goes "yeah, but yk what would make this better? Puppets." and just is flying by the seat of his pants trying to create a fusion of DIY crafts and reanimation. he even could be inadvertendly creating an entirely new form of magic while messing around with the Book and his puppetry, but no one will ever know bc he just wants to play around with his little flesh puppets instead of, idk, sitting down and writing an actual grimoire/codex on it and i love him so much for that <3

Really tho!! This is the closest anyone has ever come come to actual reanimation in this universe, not just souless zombies or possessed lamps, real breathing creatures with the souls of people and working innards to back it up! And he's not even writing it down!