#he's asking Lopez if Sarge made today opposite day just to fuck with him

[quadrantadvisor]

My headcanon about Richard Simmons is that he has a few beliefs that he struggles with, including, but not limited to: toxic masculinity, puritanical ideals about work and worth, internalized homophobia, general queerphobia, etc., etc. And that trying to reconcile those beliefs with his own feelings of inadequacy and his place in the wider world causes him constant mental suffering for many, many years. And that dealing with that suffering and trying to compensate for his own self-loathing and hypocrisy makes him act like an absolute ass.

And then one day there's enough evidence, there's enough understanding of the people in his life, there's enough budding respect for himself that the switch just. Flips. And he's like "wait none of that fucking matters."

The thing about Simmons is that he doesn't do anything halfway, when he believes in something he gives 100%.

What I think is funny about that is, from an outside perspective, one day Simmons is trying (and failing) to do """locker room chat with the boys""" and the next day he's read 7 books on queer theory and he's haughtily telling people that their gendered language is reductive. Like everyone knew he was in denial but there were NO SIGNS that he was getting over it whatsoever, he is Just Suddenly Like This and trying to pretend that if he ever said something that wasn't socially progressive no he didn't.

Like he's still overcompensating for something and he's still kind of an asshole about it but now it's even funnier. To me and maybe also Donut. For the rest of the cast it is the most confusing day of their lives.

[agent-murica]

S15E6

I had an AP test today and I decided the most logical thing to do was to analyze the fuck out of this episode. Beware: it’s rather lengthy- like that of an essay + I’m open for discussion about the points made. Spoilers under the cut:

Ok, I just want to start off by saying that I think Grif leaving has been a long time coming, and while it did initially surprise me, I have to say I’m not quite so much shocked about that than I am about everybody’s reactions to it. More clearly, I think everyone- including Dylan- reacted in almost entirely the wrong way.

-Starting with Dylan, personally, I think Jax should’ve been the one to go in and talk with Grif rather than her for a few reasons. The first reason is, he almost had no involvement with delivering the message to the Reds and Blues besides being there and saying at most two lines. The second reason is, he’s treated in the very same position that Grif is with the Reds, as Jax is for Dylan. They are both belittled, they both have their ideas shot down, and they have both been shot at for the purposes of their CO’s. I believe these aspects of Jax’s character would’ve made him a better fit to go talk to Grif than Dylan, but since he didn’t I’ll discuss why I think Dylan did the wrong thing and did “fuck something up.”

Dylan is probably the worst choice to go talk to Grif simply because her character is very similar to early Carolina, especially Season 10 Carolina. You know, the same Carolina who dragged them on a personal vengeance quest and was a major reason why Grif left and decided to not deal with her problems, and the rest followed. Personally, I can see parallel’s between Dylan and S10 Carolina (cursed WHAP exam and its synthesis’) and it’s hard for me not to see why Grif reacted the way he did.

Dylan is someone who just waltzed in on the Reds and Blues during their retirement, is dragging them on another Church quest. Not only that but she just waltz’s up to Grif talking as if she knows him, saying things about his character and what he’s really like. Grif is a character who doesn’t like having things be decided for him, and he probably doesn’t like someone telling him what he’s ‘really’ like (even if it’s 100% true; he just doesn’t want to see it).

But what I think Dylan did that really pushed him over the edge was mentioning Kai. I think that was a slap in the face for Grif because he’s still not with his sister- the reason why he hasn’t been with his sister is because of being dragged on quest after quest after fucking quest and that, I think that’s what made him finally decide ‘that’s it; I quit’.

But Grif can be easily swayed and has been in the past with proper encouragement, so I don’t think his decision was as set in stone as he thought it was, which is why the reactions from the Reds and Blues are absolutely atrocious to the mental dilemma Grif was having.

-First up, Washington. Listen, I love Wash, I really do and I can see why his first impulse when seeing Grif arrive late is to insult him- because that’s what everyone does in the BGC. But that was just another reminder to Grif that he doesn’t belong with them, because really, for him it’s one insult after another on an almost daily basis. So they’re already starting off on the wrong foot.

-Then we have Caboose (skipping the immediate reactions for a bit), who I think was the safest character to react to the news. His first reaction was to ask about Church, who he’s constantly focused about but it also gives Grif a chance to somewhat explain why he’s not going on this quest specifically as well as it gives him a chance to try and reason with the others. Caboose’s later reaction of having someone try to stop him is a little less ok as it’s just another reminder that until now Grif really hasn’t been given a choice on anything.

-Then we have Tucker, to which I found his reactions to be appalling. We have him from the start insulting Grif- by making fun of the fact that for once Grif was being serious and thinking about something concerning himself. Then we have him acting hostile when Grif initially says he quits, saying along the lines that he ‘can’t do that’- taking away Grif’s right to choose. And finally what I think really sealed the deal was him calling Grif ‘selfish like always’. Listen, I get that Tucker is angry and his grief about Church has been cut open like a wound but is that really the best he could come up with? Grif has given so fucking much to the BGC and this is exactly how he’s treated every damn time.

If Tucker was trying to get Grif to stay, this is the polar opposite of what he should’ve done. I’m not surprised that Grif says, “I don’t like you. Any of you” because when you have ‘you’re selfish’ being thrown at you and you’ve actually done so much shit for your so called ‘friends’ I’d proclaim a little more than ’I don't like you’ at them. Grif could’ve said so much worse than that, but he didn’t- because these people don’t deserve his time of day.

Tucker reminded him that he actually gets nothing from going on these quests; no respect, no admiration, nothing from his supposed friends.

-While Sarge’s reaction wasn’t as violent as one would expect from his character, it was still a reminder to Grif that he has a superior officer who wants him dead at every turn. Someone who has repeatedly shot at him, wouldn’t look over to cliff to see if he was dead and even mentioned that he would celebrate it, belittles him, questions his intelligence, has emergency plans where the first course of action is to always shoot Grif, and so on and so forth. It doesn’t matter that Sarge said, “Seriously, Grif. Turn around” after his whole charade of acting like they usually do because it doesn’t matter at that point- Grif has already made his decision and that’s just supporting it.

Sarge inadvertently reminded Grif of the physical and verbal abuse he faces on a daily basis when he’s with the BGC.

-Getting on to Simmons, he didn’t do much- and that’s the problem. When first hearing about Grif being ‘missing’ his first action was to go check the pantry. Really, the pantry? In the previous episode we were given a plethora of other places Grif could have been- down by the beach or over by the oasis, but no. The first place Simmons decides would be the logical place to look was the pantry. And then we have his reaction to Grif thinking, to which he says along the lines of “thinking about food”.

If that doesn’t say much about their relationship I don’t know what will. But that’s what their relationship is founded on- insulting each other- so I won’t focus too much on that because Simmons thought it’d be another one of their bantering moments.

Then we have his only reaction to Grif leaving; nothing. He just sat there and stared. He didn’t say anything to convince him to stay, didn’t chase after him; he just did nothing. And I can understand him being shocked speechless because he probably knows as much as the viewer that Grif’s never done that before- he’s never left. But from Grif’s perspective, it just solidifies one more thing for him:

Simmons, no matter how much he loves him, will never put Grif first or grow a backbone to go after him.

-In total, I feel like most of the reactions came off wrong and felt like attacks especially for Grif. But I think it’s the fact that no one really chased after him to get him back is the zinger here. Because here’s a group that will risk life and limb time and time again for a guy who can’t stay dead, and yet when one of their friends decides he’s had enough and leaves no one really puts their all in convincing him to stay. Most the attempts are lowered down to downright insulting him and just saying he has to stay. In comparison to Sarge’s speech at the end of Season 8, this attempt to get Grif to stay was seriously lacking.

And look, I have no doubt that they all see Grif as a valued friend, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that Grif is treated like literal dog shit in this series but still comes back to the group and for what- to have them choose a dead guy instead of him.

Grif is probably feeling like nobody in the BGC has ever given a shit about him, and they did a great job not proving him wrong.

-Not only that but his role in the group has been replaced too. Grif from the very start of the series has been the designated vehicle driver. We’ve seen him be the primary driver of the Warthog, we’ve seen him manage to figure out an Elephant (not sure which season this was, but I’m sure it was Season 7), he’s flown a Pelican, a Hornet, and the list goes on.

Something that’s always bothered me about Season 13 was the fact that Grif was replaced- twice- as designated driver. First during the escape from Armonia and second during the flight to the Staff of Charon. It always rubbed me the wrong way and I really didn’t know why until now that is.

Believe me- I know there’s more to Grif than just his ability to be adept in driving/flying any vehicle, but to Grif, he probably doesn’t think he’s much more than that.

He’s not a strong fighter (Carolina, Wash), doesn’t have a magic sword that works only for him (Tucker), isn’t inhumanly strong (Caboose), he’s not a robot (Lopez), he doesn’t have an amazingly strong throwing arm (Donut), he’s not a hacker or a cyborg (Simmons), and he can’t do half the stuff that Sarge can.

He’s their driver, and even then he’s easily replaceable.

Grif probably has no place in the BGC anymore and that probably contributed to his deciding to stay on the island.

TL;DR: The Reds and Blues did a terrible job trying to get Grif to stay with them and I hope this leads to self-enlightenment and an arc designed for the development of Grif and the Reds.

[darthrevaan]

RvB Bingo Fic - Bodyswap

Title: no te metas con templos alienígenas, idiotas

Summary: Lopez is 100% done with the Red and Blue idiots’ stupidity when they’re themselves, let alone when they switch bodies.

Word Count: 2360

Notes: For the @rvbficwars Bingo Wars, representing Red Team! A little last minute entry to show at least some team spirit xD Lines in italics are in Spanish. 

Also available on AO3

Night was Lopez’s favourite time of day. Finally all the pendejos who haunted him during daylight hours would go to bed, and he could enjoy the peace and quiet.

Morning – when they all woke up again – was his least favourite time.

Today his peaceful nightly repose was broken by the pink one crashing unnecessarily loudly into the armoury and yelling, “Lopez, where’s Sarge?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Lopez said, keeping to his usual flat monotone.

“This is important, Lopez! Where the hell is he?”

The pink one did sound a lot more agitated than usual. Strange. “In there,” Lopez said, pointing to the workshop. “He fell asleep while he was fiddling with that new alien device,” he added, despite knowing he wouldn’t be understood.

Donut brushed past him into the other room, and for some moronic reason began to yell, “Grif! Wake up!”

How much of an imbecile was he? Lopez had clearly just told him where to find the red one. He’d even asked for him by name!

Something fishy was going on.

“I’m up, I’m up, Jesus,” he heard Sarge’s voice say as he entered the workshop. “Wait. Why the fuck do I sound so weird?”

“Look at your hands,” Donut instructed.

Lopez watched as Sarge looked down at his hands, started in surprise, then turned them over slowly. “These aren’t my hands,” he said.

“No shit, genius.” That was rather more acerbic than Donut’s usual. What the hell was going on?

“You’re Sarge,” Donut said, “And I don’t mean you got a promotion.”

“Oh.” There was a beat of silence. Then the red one let out a long, despairing wail. “Noooo! I don’t wanna be Sarge!”

“Grif! Stop whining! You’re still you, you’re just stuck in Sarge’s body.”

“What if it’s permanent, Simmons?” Sarge – or Grif? – wailed. “I don’t want a Southern accent!”

“You won’t- Wait, how did you know it was me?”

Grif gave Simmons a look, an expression that was slightly weird on Sarge’s face. “You’re clearly not Donut, Simmons.”

“Point.” Donut – wait, no, Simmons – sat down at the workbench opposite Grif. “But yeah, I am Donut – or I’m in Donut’s body, anyway. It’s fucking weird.”

“You can say that again,” Lopez said. He was, as usual, ignored.

“At least you’re not fucking Sarge,” Grif said with no small amount of venom.

“At least I’m not ‘fucking’ you,” Simmons shot back.

After a second, Grif grinned slyly at him. “Well, you actually ar-”

“Jesus, Grif, right now?!” Simmons interrupted. “That brings an unpleasant image to mind with, y’know, this going on.”

“Fuck.” Grif put a hand over his eyes. “Now I seriously need brain bleach.”

“Where are the others?” Lopez asked.

Grif and Simmons started, like they’d forgotten he was there. “It didn’t affect Lopez,” Simmons said, narrowing his eyes.

“It didn’t? How can you tell?”

“Look at him,” Simmons said, “He’s clearly still Lopez.”

They both stared at Lopez for a moment, before Grif nodded. “Yep, I see what you mean.”

“Besides, I’ve already seen Sarge and Donut. That’s how I knew you were in Sarge.”

“That means they’re out there running around in our bodies!” Grif said. “Please tell me Sarge doesn’t have mine.”

“No, he’s got mine,” Simmons said. “When I left him he was crushing things with my robotic hand.”

“That means Donut has me,” Grif said grimly. “Tucker’s probably taking video.”

“I guess.” Simmons leant forward, now much more interested in the strange device lying on the table. “I bet this is what caused it,” he said, gesturing at the small machine.

“Cool, but what the fuck is it?” Grif asked.

“I… yeah, I have no idea. Sarge said he didn’t know what it was or how it worked, either.” Simmons paused for a moment, then turned to look at Lopez. “Hey, maybe Lopez knows how to fix it.”

“Obviously I can fix unfamiliar alien technology at the drop of a hat,” he said, his hilarious deadpan lost on the two idiots in front of him, as usual.

Different bodies, same idiots.

“Lopez, can you fix this, yes or no?” Simmons asked.

“No,” Lopez said flatly. That was the one word these morons seemed to consistently understand.

“Well, that puts us back at square one, I guess,” Simmons sighed. “I wonder if anyone else was affected?”

“If we go get breakfast, we can find out,” Grif said, trying to hide the hopeful note in his voice.

Simmons sighed. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Lopez followed them to the mess hall, admitting – at least to himself – that he was curious.

The mess hall was pandemonium.

Groups of soldiers were gathered everywhere, all talking, arguing, crying, or just staring into the nearest reflective surface in disbelief. There was no sign of anyone trying to calm or organise the chaos. Lopez did spot Grif and Simmons – now Donut and Sarge, of course – sitting on the opposite side of the hall.

“There you are, you no-good rotten bodysnatcher!” Sarge said as soon as they sat down. Even using Simmons’ body, his voice was still gruff and stubbornly Southern. “Why I oughta-”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t take your fuckin’ body on purpose,” Grif snapped.

“I think it’s kinda fun,” Donut piped up. “And kind of exciting. I mean, I don’t know who most people are yet, and I haven’t found Doc-”

“No,” Grif snapped, pointing a finger at Donut, “No doing weird shit with my body.”

Donut put a hand to his heart. “Grif! I would never! I’m going to take great care of your body!”

“Probably better care than he takes of it,” Simmons said under his breath.

It was at that moment that Wash suddenly sat down unannounced at their table. This wasn’t unusual; the fact that he was completely shirtless, however, was. For a moment they were all shocked into silence.

“Don’t worry,” Wash said, leaning back in his seat, “Lesser men than you have been stunned into silence by the sight of my abs.”

There was another moment of silence. Then everyone drew in a breath nearly in synch, preparing to unleash numerous variations of what the ever-loving fuck. But before anyone could speak, a huge crash echoed through the hall.

Caboose was standing in the doorway, clutching the doorknob of one of the mess hall doors in his hand. The door had been ripped entirely out of its frame, hinges swinging loose.

“Tucker!” he yelled. “Come back here with my body!”

/

“Alright,” Kimball said, her hands on her hips. “I know this is going to be a testing time for everyone. For now I just have to ask you to grin and bear it until we can work out what the hell happened.” She paused, and then sighed heavily. “And yes, for the moment, I am Private Matthews.”

There were a few conspicuous coughs, but no one outright laughed. “I’m honoured to lend you my body, General!” Matthews called from the back of the room. Doctor Grey’s voice sounded squeaky rather than cheery when he used it.

“…thank you, Matthews,” Kimball said. “Anyway, on to the issue at hand. We need to work out what caused this…bodyswap, and how to fix it.” She turned and looked Simmons. “You said you had some idea of what happened, Captain.”

“Possibly,” Simmons said. “I mean, Sarge was er…fiddling with some unknown alien technology in the workshop last night.”

Kimball looked from face to face. “Colonel, maybe you could tell us more…wherever you are?”

“Right here, General,” Sarge said from Simmons’ body. “Don’t know what that bamboozling bit of alien techno-garbage is, but it sure didn’t seem to be doin’ anythin’ when I was experimentin’ on it last night.”

“When you fell asleep it still hadn’t responded to anything,” Lopez said, “It hasn’t given off any recognisable power readings at all. I doubt it has anything to do with our current problem.”

“Er… what was that?” Kimball asked.

“He said the alien device probably isn’t the cause of our problem,” Andersmith’s deep voice said. When everyone turned to stare at him, he added, “Oh, Doctor Grey speaking, by the way. And can I say I am loving the experience of borrowing your body, Lieutenant Andersmith! I’ve never been able to lift several pieces of lab equipment at once!”

“You’re welcome, Doctor,” Jensen’s voice said from the other side of the room.

“Alright, so if it wasn’t the alien device in the armoury,” Kimball said, “What was it?”

Resounding silence filled the room. People exchanged glances, but no one seemed willing to speak up.

“There was some kind of energy pulse at 3:36 last night,” Church said eventually, flickering into being above Carolina’s shoulder. “I didn’t think it was important at the time – didn’t look out of the ordinary – but I guess I should take a closer look at it.”

“Please do that,” Kimball said. “In the meantime, we should search for any other alien tech on the base, especially anything that looks like it’s been activated. We’ll organise into search teams now.”

In the resulting hubbub, Lopez slipped out of the room and made his way back to the armoury.

It would take those idiots days to find anything on the base, if their previous record was anything to go by. If there was some weird tech here, he’d find it quicker than anyone else.

He logged into a computer terminal and got to work.

/

Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang.

The rhythmic banging had been going on for at least half an hour. Clang, clang, clang, every strike reverberating around the huge room, echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve,” someone said. The voice belonged to Locus, but the intonation was clearly not his.

“I am just,” clang “very” clang “frustrated.” Clang.

“I can see that.”

“Look doc, I don’t need you in here psychoanalysing me.” A pair of eyes turned to look at him, one dark brown, the other entirely black. “Especially not when you look like fuckin’ Locus.”

“I’ll come back later then,” Locus – actually the Counsellor – said softly, before turning away and retreating back into the hallway.

Felix, unwillingly and very unhappily trapped in Sharkface’s body, went back to hammering at the strange alien device in the middle of the room, hoping his repeated strikes would make it reverse somehow.

Or break it. That would be fine too.

Outside, the Counsellor found Felix’s body and, disconcertingly, his own sitting side by side on a low wall. Locus had – much to his displeasure – been forcibly ejected from the Temple by Felix, who was apparently extremely uncomfortable watching his own body move around without being able to control it. Sharkface seemed equally uneasy – probably from the loss of his muscles, Aiden thought unkindly.

“He’s still in a mood?” Locus asked.

“He is. I would let him work it out, but I fear he will irreparably damage the alien device if we allow him to continue.”

“He’s the one who fuckin’ set it off in the first place,” Sharkface snapped. His growl didn’t sound even half as menacing in the Counsellor’s soft voice.

“And we’ll all be fucked if he breaks it.” Locus stood up, faltering a little as he did. He was clearly still getting used to being a lot shorter than usual. “Let’s deal with it.”

“With what? These noodle arms?” Sharkface flopped both arms around to demonstrate their apparent weakness. “You’ll have to take doc over here, or go it alone.”

“I suppose I should thank you for being so concerned about my body’s welfare,” the Counsellor said drily.

“More I ain’t in a hurry to get punched in the face,” Sharkface shrugged.

Locus eyed him with consideration. “Do you think you’d be of use?”

Aiden snorted. “Me? No. I don’t think suddenly having muscle will help a man who barely knows how to throw a punch.” He gave Locus a penetrating look. “He’s your partner. You of all people should know his weak spots.”

Locus glared right back at him. “Usually I try not to hit them.”

“He will understand, when everything is fixed.”

Locus hesitated, glancing between the entryway to the Temple and the two of them waiting for him to come to a decision. Then he squared his shoulders. “Wait here,” he snapped, and he disappeared inside the Temple.

“…and if they kill each other?” Sharkface asked a few moments after Locus disappeared from sight.

“Then we’ll have less to worry about,” Aiden said flatly. “And we might be able to start fixing the alien device. Or attempting to do so.”

“Can’t come quickly enough,” Sharkface muttered. “No offense, man, but I hate your body.”

“Unfortunately it was the only one I had to offer,” Aiden said with a raised eyebrow.

There was a yelp and a thud from inside the Temple. They both tensed, waiting; when no more sound was forthcoming, Sharkface said, “I think that’s our cue.”

“Right.” They made their way into the Temple together.

It wasn’t hard to navigate; soon enough they came to the main room and found Locus, standing over Sharkface’s crumpled body. “You better not have done permanent damage,” its temporarily separate owner growled as he entered the room.

Locus cracked his knuckles slowly. “I know my limits. He’s- you’re- you know what I mean. You both are fine.”

“Glad to hear it.” Sharkface turned to the central feature of the room, the strange alien device sticking out of the floor. “Now, I haven’t got all day, Counsellor. Can you fix this thing or not?”

“Me?” The Counsellor smiled. “Oh no. We’ll have to call in an engineering team. Better settle in for a long wait, gentlemen.”

Locus cursed under his breath. “This is the last time I let him wander in alien temples unsupervised.”