#hit the target lads

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

✨️Bodhi durran ✨️ that's it.

BUT ALSO

Imagine him being the most amazing boyfriend. I don't know if you have seen lockwood and co on Netflix but that scene where lockwood dresses Lucy's wounds and is looking dead ass deep in her soul smiling, my god bodhi material.

To get to my point if you could write a one shot of bodhi finding out you're injured and going ballistic to anyone that let her out of their sight and got hurt and then finding you trying to wrap your wounds and instantly going all soft and helping I would be forever in your debt

Ps. If you haven't watched lockwod and co it's absolutely worth it.

I haven't watched the show so if this isn't exactly how you pictured this, I apologize✨🤍

Worries

"Where is she?", Bodhi yanked onto one of the recruits, who was in the same formation as you, shirt up. The poor lad looked like he was about to shit himself at best as he stumbled over words. The thing was... Bodhi was fun and games until he wasn't. And that wasn't part come a lot sooner than expected. Considering that the past weeks of him being a section leader had been rather calm. But that sorry fuck just had to show off. Had to break formation. Had to try to prove his piss poor ego and get you hurt.

"You're speechless all of a sudden?", Bodhi shook the guy in his grip, "Answer the goddamn question before you end up like a roasted chicken on the solstice table". You could hear a pin dropping in the background that's how silent the squad had gotten. "I think I saw her entering the building", some other recruit cut in. Bodhi narrowed his eyes, "You think or you saw?", shoving the quivering male he stepped aside sizing everyone up.

"You weak shits better listen and better listen well", he practically growled through gritted teeth. His first instinct was to run after you. He saw the blood gushing from your hand after the coalition. But he also knew his title. Causing a bigger scene than necessary would only turn heads your way. And neither of you needed that. Neither of you wanted to become a target leading to one another. "If any of you will ever do anything similar to what Marco did today", Bodhi grunted. Gods, he felt like Xaden. "I will skin you myself and believe me your dragons will smoke you alive. Dismissed", he practically roared as the recruits hurried away. Bodhi ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair.

"She is up in your room", the voice made Bodhi jolt slightly. Garrick was leaning against one of the pillars. "I passed her, she's fine, man", Garrick continued to speak since Bodhi just stood there, "You did well here too. More and more like our beloved Xaden every day". He knew it was a dig. The two cousins had been compared ever since their interactions were brought to the daylight. "Why don't you go fuck yourself", Bodhi grunted as he walked past his friend. "Gets boring after a while", Garrick chirped in return. Bodhi simply snarled but that of course earned a satisfied chuckle from Garrick.

"Show it to me", the sudden bag of the door practically hitting the wall and the raised voice made you drop the blood-soaked rag. You knew Bodhi was gonna find you eventually. Your dragon was practically counting the minutes for you ever since you had flown back first and dismounted. "Bodhi, it's okay", you tried to keep your voice calm. The wound wasn't all that bad it was the angle and the damaged tissue of the skin that caused it to bleed so much. "Don't you it's okay, me", he grunted, "Show me", his voice was lethal low. He never used that tone with you. It was his section leader's voice. The voice he gave a report in. But it never was showcased around the people he trusted and cared for.

"There's nothing to look at it's...", "I didn't ask, I gave you an order", he cut in, grabbing your upper arm gently so he could look at the damage himself. Bodhi's eyebrows knitted together for a moment, his jaw flexed. "Sit", he muttered motioning towards the bed. "Bodhi", you breathed out. "Baby, I swear to everything holy to me", he exhaled a shaky breath, "you either sit or I am carrying to the healer's wing and will put you on bed rest for a week". You huffed at his threat but you knew that he wasn't bluffing so you followed his orders.

Bodhi was so gentle as he carefully wiped away some of the blood before pressing a clean bandage on your cut, securing it in place. Make sure it's tight for a couple of hours before the bleeding slows down. He would redo it in a couple of hours. Wash it off with a salve he would go ask for. Then another bandage. Then... "Bodhi, I can hear you making plans in your head", you muttered. It was cute watching him fuss at times. It was his way of showing love but you also knew that his head was a wild space and it only took one bad thought to have it all spiraling out of control. "Does it hurt a lot? Do you need something for the pain?", he asked, his concerned eyes searching yours. "Start by giving me a hug and then sit down with me", you said softly, "I promise, I'm fine". You reached out for him, taking his hand into yours, squeezing it.

"I just hate seeing you hurt", Bodhi breathed out, his shoulders drooping. "The feeling is mutual but there are times we can't do anything about it", you reached to run your fingers through his messy curls. That now was completely out of control since he no doubt had been pulling at them. "Do we have a murder scene in the backyard?", you nudged your boyfriend's shoulder, making him snort. "Not yet but we might...", Bodhi exhaled, turning to face you.

"You promise you're okay?", you met his worried gaze but this time instead of answering him you just leaned in and kissed him. Slowly and tenderly. Letting him feel your love. "Good enough proof?", you asked when you two finally broke apart. "Not sure... maybe a couple more kisses", Bodhi thoughtfully nodded his head. You giggled slightly before cupping his face once more.

[targetslovelyworld]

Stampy’s Lovely World Dashboard simulator

🍪 randomwordotd Follow

Random word of the day: Frogs!!!

( 56 notes )

🎄 hollyjollypolly Follow

Only 342 days until Christmas!

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

Halloween is better

🎄 hollyjollypolly Follow

I disagree with that personally.

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

You can’t disagree with me I’m right

🦫 sillybillybeaver Follow

This your house?

🎄 hollyjollypolly Follow

WHAT

🧜‍♀️ lovelovepetalz Follow

Oomfies fighting on the tl again

#its funny though #reblog # // not flowers

( 85 notes )

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Who put Stampy Cat in charge of the weather I feel like I’m going to get heat stroke just stepping outside

🧸 longshot-btg Follow

its not that serious bro

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

It hasn’t rained in 4 years what the fuck do you mean its not that serious

🧸 longshot-btg Follow

that sounds like a you problem

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

When I get my hands on those dogs I will exile you

#its gonna happen #his dogs WILL be mine #just you wait and see

( 5,937 notes )

🥧 pumpkinmunchkin Follow

new hit the target plan leak hes going to steal the dogs by taping a photo of stampy cat onto his head with the hopes that the helpers wont catch on

#he would be stupid enough to try to pull this off

( 428 notes )

💿 giraffeconstructionsite Follow

i think i botched the recipe this potion isnt kicking in

💿 giraffeconstructionsite Follow

( 25,173 notes )

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Nobody decided that Stampy should get to rule over everyone. The fact that so many of you people are complacent in his regime is sickening to me.

☃️ christmasmiracle12242012 Follow

im henry i am a snow golem and i like snowball fights and playing in the snow :D

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

?

#what

( 7 notes )

🍪 randomwordotd Follow

Random word of the day… BERRY

( 93 notes )

🐱 mr-stampy-cat Follow

Making a cake with my favorite helpers! Such a lovely morning.

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Your days are numbered.

🐱 mr-stampy-cat Follow

Not much of a threat coming from you, Mr. “I spent thirteen years consistently failing to take one guy’s dogs and now I’m salty about it”

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Not much of an insult coming from you, Mr. “I don’t let anyone else speak except for me because I’m self-obsessed and don’t care what others have to say in the slightest”

🦫 sillybillybeaver Follow

This is why your wife left you.

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Go fuck yourself

#imagine being so desperate to win an argument that you drop the veeva card #that should be an indicator that your argument fucking sucks #bringing up a lads divorce as a gotcha moment #how typical of a brainwashed helper

( 109 notes )

🌆 is-veeva-dash-dead-yet Follow

No.

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

Go to hell William

🌆 is-veeva-dash-dead-yet Follow

Who is this “William” you speak of? I am very clearly is-veeva-dash-dead-yet

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

Two can play at that game.

🎇 is-william-beaver-dead-yet Follow

No.

🦫 sillybillybeaver Follow

Wow! Unprovoked, Veeva!

🎇 is-william-beaver-dead-yet Follow

If I have my way I’ll be posting the word yes tomorrow

#and nobody will miss you

( 323,791 notes )

[howlingday]

Imagine Jaune as Scott Sterling(from Studio C). How funny would that be? Pyrrha would probably sue the coach and let Nora beat up the team.

Oobleck: Welcome back to our coverage of the game between Teams RWBY and JNPR.

Port: If you're just joining us today, you've missed most of an unbelievably well fought match between two incredible teams tonight. It has all come down to the final, penalty shots. All it takes is enough points for either team. Here comes the kick...

Pyrrha: (Kicks, Scores goal)

Oobleck: OH! SPECTACULAR! Team JNPR's star player, Pyrrha Nikos, has just landed a goal for her team, so now the burden rests on Team JNPR's goal-keeper, Jaune Arc.

Port: Here he comes. A fine lad with nerves of steel. He's got more hanging over him than the city of Mantle right now.

Oobleck: Indeed, and it seems the fans are showing their appreciation for it. Yang Xiao Long places the ball on the spot, getting ready.

Port: That girl literally has a cannon for a leg, and here she comes! Winding up for the shot and-

Yang: (Kicks)

Jaune: (Pelted in the face)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Port: THE CANNON HAS FIRED AND HAS STRUCK JAUNE ARC IN THE FACE DIRECTLY!

Oobleck: We clocked that at a stunning 116 kilometers per hour!

Port: Now that's a lot of, er, miles per hour!

Oobleck: Even with aura, there is no chance that young man's nose isn't broken right now.

Port: Oh, indeed!

Jaune: (Dazed)

Goodwitch: (Shining a light in his face, Nods, Leaves)

Port: Now it seems Team JNPR's coach, Professor Goodwitch, is examining him and deems him fit for duty after a short rest. Sadly, he's not out of the woods yet.

Oobleck: On his feet now, a bit shaken.

Port: But not stirred!

Oobleck/Port: HAHAHAHA!

Port: This crowd absolutely loves this young man.

Oobleck: He returns to his team, who welcome him back as a hero. And now comes another penalty kick, and scoring here would make it two nil. Nora Valkyrie approaches the ball with determination!

Nora: (Kicks, Misses goal)

Port: She hits high and wide, way off target!

Oobleck: She must have thought she was playing Mantle Football and attempting a field goal!

Port: Wrong kind of football, I'd say! And back now to Jaune Arc, looking a bit worse for wear, but ready for round two.

Oobleck: The shot takes a moment, but here comes Belladonna!

Blake: (Kicks)

Jaune: (Beaned in the schnozz)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Port: Jaune Arc with the fantastic dive! The ball flies straight through the air and his hands and whacks Jaune Arc right in the sniffer!

Oobleck: Looking again on the instant replay and OH! EVERY EXCRUCIATING DETAIL IS CAPTURED PERFECTLY IN HIGH-DEFINITION PERFECTION! Clocked in at 129 kilometers per hour.

Port: Arc does not look well. Two wonderful saves compounding two DEFINITE concussions.

Goodwitch: (Carries Jaune on shoulder)

Jaune: (Falls, Dragged away)

Oobleck: This seems to be the end of Jaune Arc's performance tonight.

Port: Indeed, as his coach pulls him through the grass and off the field, like a large-breasted lioness dragging a gazelle with a broken nose across the savannah.

Oobleck: Adieu, Jaune Arc. Adieu.

Port: JNPR now with their third PK. Weiss bouncing at the goal like an infant. The crowd holds their breath as Valkyrie moves in... OH! Very anticlimactic there. Let's see who they got to replace Jaune Ar-

Oobleck/Port: JAUNE ARC!

Port: JAUNE ARC IS BACK!

Oobleck: Jaune Arc is still in the game! Oh my, and it seems he's taken a very odd tactic now!

Port: He seems to be in the fetal position, covering his face.

Oobleck: Not a recommended technique, but here it co- Oh, wait! It seems Weiss Schnee is stopping to tie her shoe.

Port: Ho ho! And that's why you do a double-knot, kids!

Oobleck: Arc, still waiting for the kick to happen. He's probably wondering when the-

Jaune: (Looks up)

Weiss: (Kicks, Pops him in the beak)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Oobleck: SWEET, CREAMY DECAF!

Port: The ball strikes Arc right in the face, further crushing his nostrils into thin slits! He must be breathing only blood by now! He's going to look like one of those cartoon characters that just ran into a frying pan while they were chasing after a mouse!

Oobleck: I don't even care that we missed Lie Ren's attempt! Let's go back to-

Oobleck/Port: JAUNE ARC!

Port: THE MAN!

Oobleck: THE MYTH!

Oobleck/Port: THE LEGEND!

Jaune: (Stumbling to the goal, Bloodied and battered)

Port: I can't wait to see Arc and his catlike face reflexes!

Oobleck: Absolutely incredible, though I must say that Arc does not look well at all lying on the ground there.

Port: Well, you know athletes. They like to add a bit of drama to their performances.

Jaune: (Picked up by Ren and Nora)

Port: Are they taking him out?

Pyrrha: (Runs out with chair)

Oobleck: They brought him a chair! A bold move by their coach!

Jaune: (Reaches for his team leaving)

Oobleck: This is basically a gimme! Ruby Rose has to literally kick it anywhere that isn't where Jaune Arc is!

Port: There is no way Team RWBY can mess up this shot!

Jaune: (Begging Ruby)

Ruby: (Kicks, Craters his face)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Oobleck: ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-EIGHT KILOMETERS PER HOUR!

Port: THIS MAN CAN DO NO WRONG! Just look at him in this instant replay, begging for mercy when it should be mercy begging for him!

Oobleck: He has looked Death in the eye and said, "Take your best shot!" To which Death replies with repeated punches to Arc's face! Just over and over and over again!

Port: If Team JNPR make this final shot, it's all over! But-

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Port: No! Pyrrha Nikos misses, clearly too distracted by the wounds her partner, Jaune Arc, has sustained in this game! Speaking of, it's time we go back to-

Oobleck/Port: JAUNE! ARC!

Port: His face is like a brick wall!

Oobleck: A brick wall that can feel only pain and cries a lot!

Port: Wait a minute... I see Team RWBY's star kicker, Penny Polendina, but where's Jaune Arc?

Oobleck: ...Oh! It seems Arc is crawling away from the goal! WHAT IS HE DOING?!

Port: HE'S THROWING AWAY THE MATCH!

Penny: (Kicks exactly where she needs to)

Jaune: (...Words cannot describe the calamity of what just happened. At least, they fail to accurately depict what could be described as what really happened. The only accuracy that could be described in this space is that there was physical contact between Jaune Arc's face and a large, head-sized ball, and that there was a lot of bodily fluids that resulted from this contact, and that Jaune Arc was in so much pain that it's likely he passed out or away, though it's also just as likely that he didn't.)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Port: ARC HAS DONE THE IMPOSSIBLE!

Oobleck: ICAN'TBELIEVEIT! LOOKATTHAT! HE'SDONETHEIMPOSSIBLE! He was hit just right! What incredible instincts he had to just crawl away from the goal like that!

Port: His team rushes to the field, happy as a lark, as they all slide in and accidentally kick Jaune Arc in the face!

Oobleck: And now his team his carrying him off and away on an orange stretch of victory, glory, and emergency medical attention! Jaune Arc and his face of steel have won it all!

[vintagestarlight]

Count on Me

Pairing: Soap x military gf!reader

Summary: soap gets in trouble defending you

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: fluff, angst, mild violence, strong language, brief mention of death, unwanted touching, sexual harassment(just to be safe)

A/n: another fic for one of our favorite 141 boys! Because of the warnings I highly suggest if any of this makes you uncomfortable please don't read it! That being said I hope whoever does read it enjoys it! As always reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated! :)

Soap never really thought about the future anymore. When you work a job like he does, it's counterproductive and sometimes even dangerous to think of a future. When Soap was a younger lad he always thought he'd have a lass and a bairn or two of his own but ever since joining the military he pushed it to the back of his mind. That was until he met you. Price and Laswell recruited you to help with a mission and you ended up earning a spot alongside the rest of the 141.

Soap had always been quite flirtatious by nature but you were different. While yes he did still flirt with you, he caught himself doing the one thing he tried so hard to avoid. He caught himself seeking you out during meals or wanting to spar with you during training. He caught himself staring at you during meetings or rec time. He caught himself thinking about a future with you; little lads(or lasses) running around getting under your feet. He caught himself falling in love. At first it terrified him realizing he loved you; loving people in his line of work put a target on their back. But seeing how badass you were but also one of the kindest people he knew, he couldn't help himself.

He found out you felt the same when you two were stuck in a safe house in no where Siberia. You were given dodgy intel and it ended with you being shot. Soap had never felt his heart sink so fast; he felt like it dropped to his feet. "Soap in case I don't make it out... I have to tell you something," you said, struggling to get the words out. You could feel the life leaving with every pump of blood; it was a strange sensation to feel yourself dying.

"Dinnae talk like tha' lass," he said, holding a cloth to the hole in your stomach. "You can tell me when we make it out of here,". Your hand grasped his and made him look at you. "I love you Soap," you said. "I tried really hard not too; I tried keeping it professional but...I love you," the words were harder to speak with each passing minute. For a moment Soap's heart felt like it was gonna burst but he still had to get you out alive. Soap had managed to stop the bleeding and a heli had come for exfil courtesy of Price. You ended up making a full recovery in the medical wing.

Ever since then you and Soap had agreed to keep your relationship a secret from the rest of the team. Midnight rendezvous in your rooms, sneaking glances and featherlight touches made Soap feel like a schoolboy again messing around with the popular girl. Of course Price had his suspicions right away; he always kept a close watch over his team and saw how you two treated each other after the mission in Siberia. He didn't say anything though because it didn't affect your performance. Ghost found out after Price when you and Soap were a little drunk after a night out and were a little too loud in the shower. After that you both agreed to be more careful.

It was because of this that men still hit on you. It was nothing new to be hit on especially in the military; you usually just brushed them off politely and then laugh when you saw Soap staring daggers at the poor man who hit on you. It usually ended with you not being able to walk; not that you minded in the slightest. But this time was different.

Because of Price's reluctant agreement a team had been brought in to assist with an extraction. During the whole mission the squad's lieutenant, Yates, had been making sexual comments about you; you were able to brush them off like you always do because this was nothing you hadn't heard before. Being a woman in the military you weren't a stranger to inappropriate comments from men. But you could tell it was bothering Soap.

The mission was a success; you were able to get your target out without it being a disaster. You were hanging around base with Soap, Gaz, and Ghost after you all got back. Price had retreated back to his office to work on paperwork and the squad that was brought in was with you three in the rec room. "So y/l/n what about you?" Yates asked. They had been talking about their weekend escapades with beautiful women while being especially crude. "Who here would you let do you?" He asked, a smirk on his face. "Excuse me?" You asked, hoping you heard him wrong.

You could feel Soap tense beside you, gripping the neck of his beer bottle so tightly you were surprised it didn't shatter. Ghost laid a hand on Soap's shoulder trying to keep him from doing anything stupid. "Who would you let do you?" The lieutenant repeated himself. "Or maybe you already let them," he said still with a nasty smirk. You finished the last of your beer before standing up. "I think I'm going to go finish my own paperwork," You said, bidding goodbye to your teammates. "Oh come on don't be a bitch just answer the question," He said standing up and blocking your path. "Move. Now." You said, flatly.

"Come on it's just a simple question," he said, stepping closer. "Do you let them take turns?" He asked. "Just tell me who leaves you the most sore afterward?" He grabbed your ass and pulled you against his chest. Before you could break his hand for touching you, Soap pushed between you two and punched the lieutenant across the face. "You son of a bitch!" Soap shouted. The two tumbled and fell with Soap on top. The rec hall erupted in shouts some from Gaz and Ghost and some from the other squad. Soap was able to get a few more punches in before Gaz and Ghost could pull him off "Johnny what the fuck?!" Ghost shouted.

Yates lied on the ground, holding his face. Blood poured from his broken nose and busted mouth. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Yates groaned. You stood there stunned and looked over at Soap who Ghost was still trying to calm down. "Go take a fucking walk Johnny," Ghost growled. Soap looked over at you and turned on his heel stalking off. "You're finished Sergeant you hear me? You're fucking finished!" Yates screamed at Soap's retreating back. "Shut the fuck up Yates," Ghost said, his voice a low growl as he looked at the injured lieutenant. The lieutenant got up and left, probably to find Price's office. You didn't know what to say so you turned to leave when Ghost grabbed your wrist. "He just risked his entire career to defend you. Give him some time to cool off but you need to talk to him," Ghost said, his voice the usual grumble. You nodded, glanced briefly at the blood on the floor, and left for your room.

Soap knocked on Price's door waiting for Price to tell him to come in. The door opened and Yates stepped out. His face purple and bruised, his nose still crooked with cotton stuffed in his nostrils to stop the bleeding. His mouth was swollen with dried blood caked on it. Soap felt a sick sort of satisfaction knowing he did that. Ghost followed Yates and gave him a reassuring nod. Yates just glared at him when Price called him in. "Take a seat," Price said from behind his desk.

Soap closed the door and made his way to one of the chairs facing Price's desk. "His captain is calling for your discharge," Price said. "He's not happy that his lieutenant has a busted face," he added. "You didn't hear what he said about her," Soap said, his fists clenching at the memory. "I know exactly what he said. Ghost told me," said Price. "The fact is you assaulted a superior officer. You're lucky you're not being court martialed," Price said, looking at Soap.

"Yates is a womanizing bastard. I'd do it again discharge or not," Soap said. "I know you would," Price couldn't help but chuckle. "Fortunately for you that won't be a problem. His captain is as much of a cunt as he is but we worked it out. You'll be suspended for six weeks," Price said. "And for what it's worth I would've done the same to the bloody bastard," Price added, before he dismissed Soap.

You figured Soap would've had enough time to have his talk with Price so you headed towards his room. You passed by the rec room to see Yates mopping his blood off the floor; you could already hear Price telling him to "clean his bloody floor". You made it to Soap's room and rapped on the door. "It's open," Soap said. You walked in and saw Soap lounging on his bed wearing one of those tight muscle shirts that drove you crazy.

"So? How bad is it?" You said, wetting a washcloth and coming to sit next to him. You grabbed his hands and started dabbing the warm cloth over his knuckles. "Six week suspension," he said, focusing on the feeling of you cleaning off his hands. "Really?" You asked surprised. "How'd you manage that?" You said, getting up to rinse of the washcloth. "Price vouched for me. Without him I could've gotten into some real trouble," he replied, looking at you clean off his other hand.

"You know I appreciate you doing that but you shouldn't have," you said, tossing the cloth into his hamper. "I couldn't let him say those things about you Bonnie," he said, looking at you. "It wasn't right," Soap added. "You could've lost your job Johnny. I would never want you to do that for me," you shook your head. Soap grabbed your hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb. "I love you hen and I'll always defend you," he said. "I love you too Johnny," You said, giving him a kiss. Soap wanted to make sure you knew you could always count on him.



[the-nysh]

Trimax vol1: Longhaired Meryl Appreciation

Both Vash and Meryl grew out their hair in the 2yr timeskip since Fifth Moon (prev vol), that they'll both get haircuts before formally returning to duty. BUT! Since in-universe it's Meryl's birthday (February), and as an experienced (and silly!) ~professional~ she understands the value of taking a well-deserved vacation before she inevitably gets swept into the chaotic typhoon of her job again....so for now, here's her looking radiant with her longer hairstyle:

Bonus comparison to her typical hair length looks like this:

Additional chapter character notes of interest below the cut:

When her coworkers start gossiping and making assumptions about how horrible and dangerous her job (supervising Vash) must've been, she gently corrects them--defending Vash's name, saying "it wasn't such a terrible experience; Vash was a very different person than everyone thought he was; he was actually a very caring and honest man." Very good! She's seen much of his genuine kindness and efforts on their travels, that she won't sit idly by when others continue to misjudge him or speak ill of his character.

(Interestingly in contrast, it seems Meryl has a tolerance towards barbs and criticisms thrown at herself--remaining comparatively silent and/or suppressing it when she's the topic, but she will speak her mind on behalf of others, like Vash's reputation here.)

When her boss calls her to identify recent photos of Vash, she has tears of recognition--it's the first time (and confirmation he's alive) she's seen him after Fifth Moon! She notes his hair color has changed...

However, this time that's her boss's only use for her, as he's hired another guy in charge to intercept Vash. Meryl tries to help by offering the new guy all her reports on Vash as references, but the guy rudely insults and dismisses her! Saying her reports are uselessly no better to him than tabloids--as if she were writing Vash as another 'legendary mysterious hero'--which ah! If her previous words to her coworkers were any clue, she was probably working just as hard to clear Vash's name thru her insurance reports too. :') Lovely integrity and consistent dedication, Meryl!

She was willing to let the new guy go (while dissing a silly gesture behind his back~ again, she refrained from arguing or speaking up for herself here) and sit this one out, until she learns he's a trained military soldier...uhoh. (*cough* whom Vash also doesn't trust and won't open his door for...until the guy mentions lies he brings word from Meryl--ding!)

Although Meryl was supposed to be on vacation, she personally intervenes upon realizing this in-house 'insurance agent' is a hit-man with an unethical approach to 'risk management'--he's here to kill Vash and she does NOT agree with that! (Her non-lethal stance on dealing with targets actually aligns with Vash's values!)

The guy berates her as foolish to get so involved, while pointing a gun at her head--so brave, Meryl! She calmly remembers what her coworker said, about how "a woman can't be happy when she's always getting thrown into life-threatening situations" and thinks back to every danger she's encountered--the Nebraskas, BDN and the Bad Lads, Monev the Gale, EG the Mine...Fifth Moon, to finally focusing on...Vash's smile.

Almost like a grounding effect. 'Do it for him~' Where normally yes, she'd agree, but getting so 'foolishly' involved and thrust into countless dangerous situations becomes necessary and worth it (for Vash's smile...)

Also because, did the guy completely dismiss and underestimate her so bad, thinking she'd carelessly come here all by herself without a plan?! Hah! Cause Milly's on supportive sniper stungun duty to trash into this guy's ego; played 'em well, girls~ With this, Meryl's once again stepped in to take preventative measures against trouble to help save Vash's life, even from afar without him knowing.

Although Milly asks if they can go meet Vash, Meryl insists on keeping professional boundaries at a distance for now--so they can prioritize their self-care enjoying their much-needed vacation, as they'll meet that 'troublemaker' through work and soon get carried away by the typhoon again, all in due time~

(Back at the office, now who's going to be their most qualified replacement for that guy injured on the job? Ding ding, all along that would be Meryl!)

[jinxxangel13]

Phantom of the Night

Chapter 5

Sorry about missing the last update! I'm finally getting back on track, and I'm super excited for these next couple chapters! Thank you, everyone, for being so patient with me!

Tw: blood, gore, minor character death, guns

~Masterlist~ ~Prev~ ~Next~

Recap:

“7-6, task a bird for casualty evac.”

Everyone could feel the solemn energy around the team, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it until they finished their objective.

Bravo 7-6: called back a short, “Rog'.”

Ghost rolled his shoulders back, allowing himself a moment to take inventory of his equipment before instructing the others to do the same.

“Get yourselves sorted. Hassan is still the target.”

Soap nodded, almost bouncing on his feet next to Phantom.

“Aye. Let's go get this fucker.”

Phantom rolled her eyes, switching her goggles for a pair of discarded NOD’s that miraculously survived the crash. She walked over to the body of one of her comrades, muttering a soft prayer before removing his ear piece to be able to finally connect it to her radio pack that had minor damage done to it. 

“Alright. Alpha- you're with us.” Ghost walked by Phantom, tapping her left shoulder in a silent command to follow along.

“Roger that, Lieutenant.” 

“Let's move out. Keep near, lads. You too, Captain.” Ghost could see the dangerous glint in Phantom’s eye more clearly before she flipped her night vision down like everyone else.

Ghost, Soap, Phantom and Alpha 0-2 started their trek with the rest of Bravo team down to their next objective: a small cluster of buildings opposite of where they came from. 

Phantom was glad she took the adrenaline shot, lest she be practically dead on her feet. Her grip on her rifle tightened as she followed closely behind Ghost as they all ran across the dark field, weaving their way around the wooden posts and ruined stone walls littered about.

Alpha 0-2 finally voiced what all of them were thinking. 

“Those fuckers used us as bait, didn't they?

Phantom could finally hear over the radio, making her grateful that hers wasn't completely shattered during the crash.

“They're well-supplied and fighting smart. Thanks to Hassan.” Ghost called back.

“Aye... Looks like you were right, L.T. You think Hassan's still here?”

Soap had made it up to Phantom and Ghost, sliding in between them as they continued their way down the hill, finally coming into view of the buildings.

“Helo crash gave 'em an opening.”

“Guess we’ll see if they took it.” Phantom called out over coms, slowing down with the rest of their team.

Overhead, the group watched one of their fighter jets fly overhead as another voice called over the radio.

“Flyboys are still on station.” 

“Rog.’ Visual on building three.”

Ghost nodded his head towards Phantom as they continued their way towards the building, not going as fast as before, and more cautious now that they are within eyesight.

“That’s our target. Hassan could be inside.” Ghost lowered his voice as they all crept forward in the darkness; their NOD’s all across their eyes to help traverse the environment.

A shot rang out towards the team, hitting one of the Marines. 

“Down!” Phantom called as she dragged Soap down with her, the rest of the team dropped to the ground quickly as well.

Ghost’s voice rang out in everyone's ears loudly.

“A.Q. sniper on the roof! Get down! Soap, take out the shooter! Rest o' ya stay low until we're all clear!”

Phantom got her rifle ready just in case, but it wasn’t necessary as Soap dropped the lone sniper, who proceeded to fall forward off the building.

“Sniper down!” Soap called out, allowing everyone to slowly crawl forwards.

“Who’s hit?”

Phantom looked to her right, seeing the downed marine with his rifle a few feet away; poor kid didn't even get a chance to defend himself.

“7-5 is down!”

Another shot rang out just as Phantom caught sight of the green laser pointing in her direction after catching the flash of her scope.

“Shit!”

Phantom rolled onto her side as she shouted out, grabbing onto her left arm tightly.

“Phantom’s hit!. More snipers on the roof. Take them out!”

She growled out in pain, letting go of her arm to grab some binding from one of her vest pouches. Phantom haphazardly, but tightly, bound the oozing gash to hopefully prevent more damage to the appendage. Luckily the bullet wasn't lodged into her skin, mostly just a graze; a nasty one at that, but a graze nonetheless.

“I’m fine!” Phantom radioed in as she turned herself back onto her stomach with her rifle close to her.

The pain wasn’t the worst she's dealt with, but shooting is going to prove as a difficulty. Phantom lined up her shot in between her arm shaking, using the ground to help steady her, and let her finger pull the trigger.

“Sniper down. I got you covered, Ghost!” Phantom called over, staying flat on the ground to take down the AQ snipers that just seem to be flooding to the roof.

Soap and Phantom stayed next to each other as they continued to cover the team while the enemy soldiers fiercely defended the third building.

“AQ's dug in here-- Whatever they're defending, it's fuckin' big!” 

The two of them made their way forward in a crouched position, coming up behind the rest of Bravo team.

“We're getting chewed up out here!”

“AQ's pressing hard-- If Hassan's not here, what the hell is?” Soap sounded confused, but so was everyone.

What the hell could AQ have here if Hassan wasn’t even here?

“We're not getting through here without air support!”

“7-6! I want fire on that building now!” Ghost’s voice rang out again, frustration, and maybe desperation bleeding through his tone.

“Ghost, we don't know if Hassan's in there!” Phantom kneeled down next to him.

“They're forcing our hand! 7-6, hit that building but don't level it.”

“Kilo 0-1. Call for fire. Target is in the building ahead of us. Do not level the building.”

“7-6, copy that, making our run.”

“Force up to that wall! Move!”

Phantom quickly followed his lead, sticking close to him and Soap, trying her best to ignore the painful throbbing in both her skull and left arm. The group made it behind a short stone wall as they waited for air support. The wall provided little cover, but at least it was something.

Phantom peeked out from the side of the wall on Ghost’s left side, her eyes lighting up as a few explosions rang out around the building following the air support firing on it.

“Fucking stunnin.’” Phantom mumbled out.

“A glorious sight.” 

She could hear Soaps' impressed laugh as their team continued watching for a moment before Ghost gave the word to continue forward.

“Yeah, hope Hassan's still in one piece…” Alpha 0-2’s voice rang out.

“Several pieces'll do. Easier to find that way... All Bravo, move up. I want this building locked down. Lead us in, Captain. Soap, make entry. Let's find Hassan. Dead or alive.”

 Phantom shouldered her sniper favor of her M16 for closer combat and stayed on Ghost’s left side until they got to where the front door would have been, had it not got blown off previously. 

“Echo 0-1, moving interior.” Phantom called out, flipping her NOD’s up and sweeping her gaze around the first room.

She heard him before she saw him, registering the repetitive phrase just before she reacted.

“Mut!” Die.

Phantom pulled the trigger without hesitation.

[sentientcave]

The Good Ol' Rugby Game

It's the middle of the so called "work week" and you know what that means:

IT'S WIP WEDNESDAY

I was thinking about Rugby AUs because have you seen the thighs on those lads? But I don't know anything about Rugby tbh this is just vibes and thots. Something somethin elaborate rituals. But it's also fun. Pardon my errors I wrote most of this on discord today

Reader is a trans man - No name but he's referred to as Ripper by Simon and Johnny because they think he's like a little terrier/ankle biter on the pitch (It's a pitch for rugby, right?). And he is.

Contains: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of rugby, takeout food, Johnny and Simon, bros being bros, you know how it is

You've won.

It takes a minute for the cheering to register, for you to realize that the whistle's been blown and the game is finished, and by the time you do realize, you're in the air, brawny arms hooked around your middle, flying until you hit the ground hard, Johnny on top of you. "Fuckin' beautiful!" He shouts, his voice hoarse. And then an even heavier weight drops down on the two of you, squeezing all your air out.

"Brilliant, lads," Simon growls, knocking his forehead against yours. "Fuckin' perfect play."

"Riley, you're going to break me if you don't get your fat arse up," you grouse. "You too, Tav. Fuckin' muppets."

"Aw, love you too, Ripper," Johnny lands a wet, sweaty kiss on the side of your head before he shoulders Simon off the two of you and pounces on the giant, kissing him on the mouth with zeal.

You get up with a groan, your whole body one big fucking bruise. "Shoulda picked football," you complain to no one in particular. "I'm going to feel this forever."

Johnny swats at you blindly as you limp off, somehow managing to connect, his hand a guided missile that's only capable of targeting asses.

It’s just an amateur league— You know that, everyone on both sides of the pitch know, but it feels like your neighbourhood never got the memo. As the seasons gone on, more and more people have been showing up, wearing green and white, and when you go out to the pub after games, you never have to buy your own pints. It’s almost like being a girl again, except now you feel at home in your own skin, and the only person that tries to grab your arse is Johnny.

You know it’s Johnny and Simon that everyone’s there for, and you don’t care— You’re proud of your huge friends. They joined the league a little after you did, newly retired from the military, both of them with too much energy and muscle and training to not play some kind of sport. And they rope you into training with them. Runs with Simon so early in the morning it’s still practically dark, running drills on free afternoons in the park, tagging along to the gym and watching Johnny lift insane amounts of weight. It’s more fun than you think you’ve ever had.

You’re definitely a third wheel, but they’re good about it, obviously together but obviously wanting you around, careful to include you.

And it feels good to be one of the boys.

You grab your bag from under the bench and head off the pitch, eager to go home and shower the grass stains and flecks of someone else’s blood off of you, maybe curl up with a pint of dark beer and a pint of chocolate ice cream. Everyone’s likely going out for drinks, but you’ve been jostled around plenty for the day, head still ringing a bit from an elbow you took to the side of the head during a scrum.

“Hey, Ripper,” Johnny yells after you. He has lungs, even after a game of shouting himself hoarse. “Ye comin’ to tha pub?”

“Nah, not tonight,” you shout back. “Can’t be arsed. Goin’ home to order a Chinese.”

He’s about halfway deflating, and perks back up at the mention of greasy take out. “Order for Si ‘n’ me too, aye? We’ll be round in an hour.”

“Alright!” you call back, because that’s easier than shouting across a crowd that you were really looking forward to cozying up in front of the tv and— Oh, right. “Bring beer!” That saves you a stop on your way home.

You get home and scramble to clean up a bit-- Johnny doesn't mind a bit of mess, but Simon will stare at clutter like it personally offends him (because it does), or worse, just start tidying up. He always tells you you're not as bad as Johnny, but it's not much of a consolation. Half the mess is your roommate's anyway, who is at her girlfriend's for the weekend, again. It likely won't be long till she moves out, and you'll have to leave your cozy little spot. But at least you now have large friends to help you move.

That done, you order takeaway and pop into the shower, tossing your sweaty uniform into your hamper, and you're just getting dressed again when someone knocks at your door. You nearly forget to tuck your packer into the pocket you've sewn into all your boxers, remembering only as you almost reach the door. If anyone on God's green earth will notice that you suddenly don't have anything in your pants where you usually do, its Johnny.

"Takin' ages," he complains when you finally do answer the door. Behind him, Simon is paying for the takeout, making the delivery man look so nervous it would be funny if you didn't feel bad.

"Didn't have pants on yet. And Si, you don't have to--" He shoves the paper bag at you, cutting you off. Okay. Fair enough.

Johnny kicks his boots off haphazardly at the door. Simon takes his off neatly and sets both pairs neatly to the side.

Johnny's already in the kitchen, stowing beers in the fridge, then banging cupboards open and shut looking for plates. You'd think he'd remember by now, but he never does.

"You guys didn't have to skip the pub, you know," you say, unpacking the bag of takeout on the coffee table. "Everyone'll want to congratulate you."

"S'no fun without our little Ripper," Johnny says, tossing you one of the few beers you did have in the fridge, grinning. "Wouldn't even bother with the league without you."

"Don't be ridiculous," you say, laughing. "You guys are good. Best we've got."

[codcosplayer]

Just another love story?

(C/N)= Code Name (Y/N)= Your Name (Y/L/N)= Your Last Name

You were on Task Force 141 you had also not been the most careful on missions, but you weren’t dumb, you knew what to look for who the target was and most importantly, Check. Your. Six. It sounds dumb, but its the only reason you in this situation anyways. You were following the target, checking left and right as you walked but you didn’t turn around to look behind you, rookie mistake. Apparently they enemy team had figured out the plan and they were lead you into their little trap, Price suddenly yelled out a warning and as you finally turned around you had some quick lead launched into your knee, fortunately it didn’t come out the other side meaning theat it didn’t break through your knee cap, bad news was there was a bullet it your leg. Never the less you took out the target, after being instructed and you took off toward the get away vehicle with a great limp. “Damn it-” You said “You ok C/N?” Soap asked, “‘m ok..” You said, you continuted. Finally the van came into view, the bullet kept getting more and more lodged in your knee, about seven feet from from the van you knee locked and gave out. ”Oh Crap!” Gaz got out of the van and picked you up, “What the hell happened?!” “Got shot.” You answered, “Yea I see that.” He said jokingly, he gently sits me in the back seat and sits next to me, you groan as your knee hits one of the seats infront off you as the car starts to move, “Why didn’t you tell us? We could had helped.” Ghost asks, “You also would had when out of your way to come get me, I would have slowed everything down and we would have failed the mission.” you respond, Brows furrowed a little in pain, you hit a pot hole almost as soon as Gaz started treating your knee. You were losing blood rapidly and it was amking you a bit dizzy, the moving of the car wasn’t helping either, Gaz’s voice brought you back to reality, “You doin’ alright? your a bit pale..” “I’m f-fine a little lightheaded, but good.” you replied reassuringly, after the van stopped at the hide-out Gaz helped you out of the car and into the building, Soap was already inside the building with Laswell, Gaz sat you on the couch and abcked up as Soap ran over to you, “What happened?!” Soap exclaimed, I hurt to sit in any position on the couch, you got shot in the back of the knee so you settled on the for on top of a blanket, face-down into a pillow on the floor while they did a little “Surgery”. After five minutes of blinding pain and what felt like Ghost toying with the bullet hole they got you the bullet, your knee was unstuck from the uncomfortable position in was in, but still hurt. You let out a muffled groan into the pillow you were laying on, “Can we wrap it up? This is starting to hurt.. Real bad.” “Well, we need to cuterize the wound, it will hurt more but you won’t risk popping any stitches.” Price says. You groan, “Fine, just do it quickly..” “Uh-huh” you hear Ghost gruff before you hear a lighter flick, Soap takes of his belt and puts it in your mouth before you shove your face back into the pillow. “Alright on the count of three yeah?” You nod, “One.. Two-” A binding white pain rushs through your body, you hear a sizzle as Ghosts knife is pressed to your skin. Your let of a gasp and then a muffled scream. The smell of your melted burning flesh nauseated you, finally after what felt like years of torture the knife was pulled away from your skin, the smell lingered and the pain was still there but it felt better with the knife not on your wound anymore. Ghost wrapped up your knee and let Gaz take you to bed. You couldn’t find any way to lay down without you wanting to meet god, finally you ended up laying  og gaz with a pillow inbetween your legs and your arms wrapped around his, “Wanna watch a movie m’ love?”

Gaz questioned, “Yes! Something cute! But you pick the movie, I always pick.” “Me pick? If we’re watching something cutsy you know what I’m gonna pick-” “Lady and the tramp~” You both say, “Thats right,” Gaz says proudly, “Alright then lets watch it,” You say “You want to watch it? Are you just saying that to make me happy because you know I hate that-” “No! No! I want to watch it!” You respond happily, “Ok lets watch it then.” Gaz puts on the movie and holds you close until you fall asleep.

[somethingthing]

Freshly baked scones and flour fights

Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: not many, some implied smut towards the end + some minor angst, other than that just fluff and cuteness

Word count: 1346

A/n: Probably some bad grammar cause I’ve looked over this too many times to notice anything now gahahah (Thomas was also really hard to write for some reason, hopefully it’s still okey <3)

The arrow house smelled of freshly baked bread and your clothes and face was covered in flour.

“Charlie! Put it down!” The little boy was holding flour in both his hands, threatening to throw it your way at any moment. Instead of listening to you he leaped towards you, swinging his arm forward and letting the flour hit your already covered trousers.

A high pitched laugh left his mouth as he made himself ready to throw the rest in his other hand. You quickly turned around to make a run for it, making the boy chase you through the kitchen and in to the hall.

“Alright, you can’t throw that here, your father won’t be happy, the kitchen is messy enough” you get out between your laughter, shaking your head at Charlie who had you cornered. He giggled and slowly approached you with his fist full of flour in the air.

You’d been looking after Charlie for a while now. With Grace’s passing almost a year ago Mr. Shelby, or Tommy as he insisted on you calling him, thought it was best you stayed at the house. At first it was solely for Charlies sake with Tommy neck deep in grief and work, but after a few months something had started to grow between the two of you. Now you were more or less a happy family even if you and Tommy weren’t official to anyone else than yourselves.

Charlie had stopped in his tracks when he heard a car roll up outside. You peeked outside the through the window and saw Tommy heading up to the door. That’s when an idea hit you.

“What do you say about giving you dad a nice welcoming gift?” You asked and gestured at his raised fist. Without having to say anything more Charlies face lit up “Yeah you think that sounds good? Come here” you lifted him up to rest against your hip as the door opened.

With smug faces you watched Tommy enter the house “What the hell have the two of you been up to eh?” He took his coat and cap of.

“Oh you know, just the boring stuff” you took a couple of steps closer to him, hearing Charlie giggle at your ear. “But then we decided to bake some bread and your son here thought I looked like good target practice” you say trying to hide the mischief in your tone .

“Good lad” he says and ruffles the boy’s hair “Looks like he was good at it too” he chuckles letting his eyes scan your clothes.

“He’s really good at it, but I’m sick of being the victim and your clothes looks way too clean to me, what do you think Charlie?”

“Flour flour flour!” He happily exclaims before opening his fist over Tommy’s suit. He swings his legs back and forth, forcing you to put him down on the floor again and he runs towards the kitchen laughing.

A low and long sigh leaves Tommy’s lips and for a moment you worry that he’s mad, but then a grin creeps on to his face. “You’ll regret that” is all he says before launching himself towards you.

You let out a squeal and make a run for the kitchen just like Charlie, who’s now standing in a corner with his hands behind his back. Feeling Tommy come up behind you for an attack, you panic in all the laughter and slip in some milk you dropped earlier. Dragging the man down with you and you both end up in a pile on the floor.

Charlie, still with his hands behind his back, shifted and slowly revealed the bag of flour that earlier had stood on the counter. You and Tommy stopped laughing for a moment.

“Don’t you dare Charlie” you scolded him, not succeeding to keep a serious tone. The boy shifted again.

“Listen to her boy, put the bag down” Tommy’s voice was more stern, but you could still hear some amusement. Refusing to listen he creeped closer with his arms out and flour bag away from his body. “Charlie, put. It. Down.” Is the last thing Tommy gets out before there’s even more flour everywhere.

Now a small amount of flour is easy to handle, maybe even fun to throw around, but a whole bag results in a decent sized dust cloud. Coughing and wheezing you try and get up from the floor but moving only made it worse.

“Still, still” Tommy tries, pulling you back against his chest in an attempt to minimize the dust.

Charlie who has realized the consequences of his actions started to cry. You and Tommy carefully got up. “Oh darling, everything is fine” you say as you once again pick him up. His cries only intensifies as he reaches his arms out towards his father.

“Come here” you hand the boy over to his father, Charlie’s head instantly finds Tommy’s shoulder where he falls asleep almost immediately. “I’ll get him to bed”.

“There’s a fresh set of pajamas in his drawers, I’ll change his sheets tomorrow so no need to wake him up for a wash, okey?” Tommy only nods and heads upstairs.

The kitchen truly was a mess, flour everywhere with dishes piled on the counter from the previous baking. You grabbed the front of your blouse and yanked it off from you body a few times to get rid of some flour and brushed your hand over your trousers. It didn’t help much, but at least you didn’t create your own cloud when you walked to the cleaning closet to grab supplies.

You heard foot steps behind you and spun around. Tommy had come down the stairs, now in new non-floured clothes. “Bread for dinner eh?” He snickered as he walked over to the basket full of scones.

“It’ll go well with the marmalade Mary made last week” you give him a half smile. Sometimes you didn’t know how to feel about your and Mr. Shelby’s relationship. You liked him, you truly did but seeing how destroyed he’d been after Grace, that still wasn’t too long ago, you sometimes felt like an intruder.

This was her home, her child you looked after and her husband you shared a bed with more often then not lately. But it wasn’t hers anymore, because she wasn’t here and she would never come back. So why did it still trouble you?

”Love? Don’t shut down” he was now heading towards you cupping you face in his hands and tilting your head up “What’s going through that head of yours ey?”

Sighing and slightly smiling once again you take your hands and put them over his “Nothing, I’m okey” you assure him but all he does is click is tongue in disapproval. “I just…you know how I feel sometimes and I know you think it’s stupid”

“Mhm” is all he says before taking a step back looking down at your clothes. “It’s stupid, but not as stupid as you look covered in flour” he says as seriously as he can.

“Excuse you Mr. Shelby but I’ll have you know that this,” gesturing at your clothes “is all you son’s doing” you say pretending to be shocked and lightly hitting him with your palm on his chest.

He gave out a low chuckle “What do you say about a bath? We’ll bring some bread and marmalade, whisky and then we’ll let Mary clean this tomorrow” his voice had dropped and his hands had made their way to your hips.

“Now while all of that sounds nice, we’re NOT leaving this to Mary, she’ll have a heart attack” you lecture him trying to hide how tempted you were to just leave it.

“Start to run the bath and I’ll be up in a second, alright?” Even if it was posed as a question you knew it was more of an order. You nodded an “okey” and gave him a quick kiss, but he had other plans, He pulled you closer to deepen it, giving you a good idea of what he actually intends with the bath and alcohol. It’s not to relax you, well not for a while at least.

——————————

Thanks for reading! <3 I’ve had this laying in my drafts for a while not sure if I like it or not but I have nothing else to post for the moment. There MIGHT be a part 2 to this if I figure out how to be comfortable with writing smut, I want to, buuuut we’ll see :’) (edit: a part 2 is in the making, don’t know when I’ll be done cause it’s slow BUT it’s happening)

[emotionally-creative-rogue]

DOMINATION LINES!!

THANK YOU @caramelcheesegay FOR COMING UP WITH 90% OF THESE, ILY<333

DOMINATED:

Scout:

-“Can’t stun me if you can’t hit me! I’m a freakin’ blur, dipshit!”

-“I am ALWAYS gonna dodge that. When will you LEARN, man?”

-“Oh, oh, oh! I’m STUNNED at how bad you’re doin’!”

Soldier:

-“Don’t swing your puny stick at me, maggot! You come from fake America!!!”

-“I AM IMPERVIOUS TO ALL OF YOUR ATTACKS, SYRUP-SLURPER!”

-“Get off the battlefield and go play some hockey, weakling!”

Demo:

-“Aye, I bet you thought it’d be easy ta kill me, didn’t’che? Well, iaarrghhnnn *snore*.”

-“You call tha’ a grenade?? Me blind Mum farts worse than that wee thing!” 

-“Don’ come a’ me in those ghoulish boots lad, I’ll blast ‘em right offa yer feet!” 

Engie:

-“You’re just a little piece a’ sentry fodder now, aren’t’cha?”

-“You make for some real shitty target practice, son.”

-“Tell me ‘bout those stun grenades sometime, yeah?”

Heavy:

-“Ha! Leetle bug man is crushed. Like bug. Leetle bug. Feed you to Archimedes, Buggy.”

-“Small jumpy man- not Scout? There are two small jumpy men???”

-“You think loud noise and bright light are enough to take down Heavy??? I am killing you now!!”

Medic:

-“Oohoo! Free organs! Young, too!”

-“Ach, that reminds me- I need to feed my birds.”

-“Ohhh, sorry little boy! Go play with your crayons, ja?”

Sniper:

-“Piss off, y’ jumpy git. Bloody grasshopper…”

-“Awh, get quicker next time, won’tcha?” 

-“Dead like a ‘roo on the side o’ the road!”

Spy:

-“For someone named ‘The Rogue’, you are certainly a pack thinker.”

-“Oho! I am *stunned* by your lack of skill!”

-“Not so *Dexx*trous now, hm?”

DOMINATING:

Scout: 

-“No runnin’ in the halls, freshman!”

-“Bonk? More like thonk, eh? ‘Cause that’s the sound your hollow head makes when I hit ya!” 

-“Hah! Too slow!” 

Soldier: 

-“Y'know, a 3" piece of rubber can do a lotta damage, Trench Monkey!”

-“Hah! Oh, I mean- I'm sooo soooorey aboot tha', Bud! (snicker)”

-“A cat on a sloped roof is braver than the entire U.S. Military, Booklicker!” 

Pyro: 

-“Ack! Sorry, Firecracker!” 

-“Oh shit, I think I’m still on fire. Damn it, these were my favorite pants!” 

-“Hey we're, uh, still on for s'mores later... right?”

Demo:

-“Pen's mightier than the sword, cyclops! Get it? 'Cause I'm an artist and you- yeah, nevermind”

-“Someone must have put a little sleepy sauce in your mickeys, bud, ‘cause you are NOT on top of it today!” 

-“Smile and wait for the flash!” 

Heavy:

-“Somebody order ten thousand pounds a’ dead weight? (Snort)” 

-“It’s really hard to miss your pressure points, y’know.” 

-“Move it, ya big lug! You’re in the way!” 

Engineer: 

-“GRENAAAAAADE! I WIN! Ya proud of me, da-uhhh.. dude?” 

-“See ya round, Daaaeengie! I said Engie. Short for Engineer. That is you. You are- I’ll go.” 

-“Bam! And another one down, and another one down! ANOTHER ONE BITES THE BO STAFF!!” 

Medic: 

-“oohohoh, Maybe I can try some experiments on you this time!- Y'know, put your lessons to good use!”

-“Doc, you seriously gotta take care of your health. Damn hypocrite... (Mocking voice) 'Do az I say, not az I do!' my ass!”

-“Guess that's what happens when you don't follow your own advice, thanks for the hands-on lesson!”

Sniper:

-“There, away from the noise now! Just how you like it, Dee!”

-“You may wink at your opponents, but ya gotta take the shot as well, y'know! Can't charm 'em to death!”

-“I just... un-cozied your... camper. I'm having a bad day please be nice.”

Spy:

-“Crisse de connard! -Aheh, not used to gettin' berated in your own language, eh?”

-“Va te faire foutre, merde de con!”

-“Bein Tabarnak, it feels good to turn the tables! Hah, deserved!”

Taunt ideas:

-Using the Bo-Staff as a microphone

-Using the bo-staff as a rifle(making fun of sniper)

-Juggling the stun grenades, almost dropping one and catching it in time before glancing around to see if anyone saw him and putting them away again

OCS:

DOMINATED:

Strat (@emotionally-stressed-strategist):

-“How are you this bad? I’m dominating you with a PEN, Rogue, A PEN.” 

-“Rock, skull. Man down.” 

-“One less dot on the map- don’t come back, yeah?”

Arrow (@emotionally-dead-archer):

-"Hah! Gotcha! Oh, gotta love a little sibling rivalry, am I right?"

-“Bigger sibling? Not really.”

-“Hey! My aim is getting better! Thanks for the target practice!”

DOMINATING:

Strat:

-“I’m done bein’ your wingman if you keep this up.”

-“That’s what happens when you steal my art supplies!”

-“How do you still not have ink poisoning? Dude, seriously.”

Arrow:

-“There! I make for a pretty good role model! You get to see my stuff first-hand!”

-“You're adopted. Sorry.”

-“I think it's almost bedtime, kiddo.”

Jet (@emotionally-broken-robot):

-"Hey, uh, does this count as Softwaregore?"

[heleciacrow]

Unpredictable Outcome

AU Resurrected Heimdall x Reader

This was inspired by @silvergoldraeven that wrote AU Heimdall resurrected HC. I really love their story how everything went well after he lived(at least in our dreams. I'm still butthurt he died in the post-game.) And this gave me an idea for a plot. I'll be writing more soon too. Happy reading 💕🌹

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

The day he was resurrected was uncanny, Atreus being a kind hearted boy made it clear that he no longer needs to fight for anyone or anything for that matter. All he has to do is to enjoy this new life that was given to him and he appreciates that.

Everyone accepted him, even though he was one of those people who tried to harm them. He learned many things that were just good...to him. Learning new ways of how he can interact, how to follow rules and praises when needed. This bears in mind that he can more than just foresight and prediction, he may still be a jerk most of the time but the new family he found shows greatness at his worst part in there.

Kratos being a good father figure to him is something that he never knew he'll find, a father that he wanted when Odin was alive. Atreus is the brother he learned to love, carrying that along his new life, Mimir the great uncle who gives him advice when Kratos is not around, Freya the great step-mother that shows great love to him like her own son. Baldur is also one of the Great parts that was added recently and finally accepts one another once more. But let me add one more that adds greatness in his new life and that is none other than you.

He found you greatly appreciative of him, it might take a while for you to accept him when he was brought back by Atreus after being resurrected but as time goes by, the two of you were starting to warm up to each and learn new things together.

You are Atreus sibling by blood, Kratos and your younger brother tried their best to convince you to get along with Heimdall even though you knew what he had done in the past. However, you gave in when Atreus gave you a long hug and did not let go of you until you agreed to give the Aesir God a chance.

One thing you started to like about Heimdall is when he would give a half-ass remarks at Atreus being the 'big brother' of his when Kratos introduced him to people for the first time. Which did not sit well with you at all, well don't get me wrong, you're happy that there's a new added family, although Heimdall has something hidden from the rest of you.

He was a good companion when hunting together while Kratos, Mimir and Atreus would go somewhere else for Sindri(which he finally accepted Brok's death and finally forgiving Atreus.) In Heimdall's eyes, he felt heavier emotions towards you, the way your hair would brush and wave through the wind, the smile you give when he hit the deer when hunting and small praises that leaves his heart skipping a beat. He finds himself staring intently at you most of the time, not creepy at all. He cherishes those moments with you more than with Kratos when he goes with him when you're not available. But it didn't falter him since he enjoys hunting with his new Father. However, most of the time when they would chat here and there, it's Heimdall's questions about you to Kratos. It would leave our old pal confused for a moment but he did not question it. One time, Mimir pointed out when they're tracking the deer "Say, Lad, I know this might come off a bit personal. But you seem very fond of Y/n." Heimdall stiffens on his feet while tracking their target for the day, Kratos stares at his back "W-why are you asking, old goat? We were just getting along." He responded, a chuckle was heard from Kratos when he finally realized what Mimir is trying to target towards the Aesir God. "It is fine to ask about your new 'sibling', it might help to make your bond stronger." Mimir agreeing with Kratos made Heimdall feel the heat creeping up to his face "I...well they're...you know...great?" For the first time in Heimdall's life, he is stuttering, he never stutters, he always had something smart to say but this very moment made him blank "Oi, I think we broke the lad, brother." Mimir laughs, Heimdall not liking the fact he's being teased "Why would I even ask you...?" He muttered and went on the hunt again.

But even when they're finally back to Sindri's home, Baldur went to help Kratos carry the buck that was hunted. You and Freya would check the greenery she built behind the house, Heimdall's eyes went to you and he stopped. Oh how your eyes sparkle with glee, how it makes his heart beat faster than his movement in battle. Thinking of you more than just a renowned sibling, he wanted something else. He felt dejected knowing that Kratos would always introduce them as 'siblings' he exhaled through his nose deeply but wasn't unnoticed by Tyr, the Norse God of War stood next to Heimdall and checked who he was staring at. "Is something bothering you, young man?" Heimdall just shook his head as he put his left hand on his hip "Nothing... Just... Thinking." Unexpectedly for Tyr that he's in deep thought, never in millennia that he would find him liking this.

After hours of staring (not creepily) at you, he finally has had it. He wanted to understand what he felt and went to seek Kratos for advice. "You are confused about your feelings?" He questions, Heimdall is curled up in blankets not wanting to show how embarrassed he is for asking this "I might say, he's probably lovesick at this moment, brother." Mimir commented, Heimdall pulled off the blanket from his head causing his braid to mess up and sat up quickly to glare at the talking head "Lovesick? I am a god! I can't get sick!" He retorted, Mimir laughing loudly at the messed up Heimdall "Poor lad not getting what I meant."

"I do not get sick, old goat! How can you tell?" He asked but he's desperate to know what makes him feel this way, truly he is fond of you and Kratos finally sat down next to Heimdall's bed "You can tell us what you feel." He encouraged him and Heimdall went full blown to explain everything to them.

After ranting about all his thoughts and earning a grunt of understanding from Kratos, Heimdall laid back down on his bed and covered his face with the blanket once more, he felt hotter when he finally let out everything and Kratos finally got the conclusion "I see..." His only response was that, seeing how Heimdall might have fallen in love with you without him knowing it completely "You are inlove, Heimdall." Peeking his head out to look at Mimir after he said that, he put his hand on his chest "How can you say?" "Well, you said you felt your breath taking away from when you see them, you enjoy their company, and mostly you seek for their presence when they're not around at all and lastly you do not like anyone else talking to her unless they're friends or family, did you not?" He nodded, now it clicked to him. He is indeed in love "Can I speak to them about this?" Heimdall asked "Kratos?" Mimir turned his eyes to Kratos and looked forward "There's one thing you can try rather than talking. We have a tradition from my homeland... If a man is involved with such emotion towards a woman, they declare that by throwing an apple towards them... If the person catches the apple means they accept the feelings of the other...romantically." he explained, Heimdall nod at him "will you try it?" "It would be a waste of apple if they don't catch it..." Kratos added.

It has been weeks after the talk he had with them, Heimdall is in a pickle and does not know if he can even do the throwing without getting nervous. His heart would burst and his mind would race, telling him that he had to do it. 'what if they don't like him that way? Will that destroy what they have now?' he even turned off his mind reading, so he doesn't know if you would think of him that way. He kept walking back and forth, Atreus was watching him with his father "what's wrong with him?" He asked "He's waiting for the right moment." He can pick up your footsteps, and yes he is counting them. He can tell how close you are, he's ready. He's throwing away his prideful self, he's gonna do it. As soon as the portal lights up, he pulls out an apple from his little pouch and waits for you to enter first and as soon he saw you, he feels his body shaken.

From a distance, Mimir muttering of encouragement for Heimdall "go on, lad. You have nothing to lose." With a short breath, Heimdall called for you "Y/n... Catch." Throwing the apple in the air towards your way, time seems to slow down. You raise your gaze towards the apple flying towards you and put down your weapon to the ground to use both hands to catch it, once the apple landed to your hand perfectly, you look up to see Heimdall looking hopeful when he sees you catching. It took you a moment to realize this as you learned from Kratos homeland and your face started to heat up "Are...you serious?" You asked hesitantly, you were about to doubt this but his Bifrost eyes stared at you with the most sincerity and for the first time he is not playing around "You mean it?" He nod, grinning you held the apple close to your heart and started to tear up "I thought I'm just the only one..." You muttered softly, but he heard you. He looked over to where Kratos is and he gave him a nod of approval towards his declaration for his oldest child, he felt elated and walked towards you as you did so, letting yourself be engulfed by his arm, finally having a chance to be with him as yours and you as his.

Extended ended :

Two winters have passed, Kratos, Heimdall, Atreus and you were in the middle of the trading town. Some already know who you were but when they asked Kratos about you all, he goes

"These are my children and my son-in-law.and and my oldest's brother in-law" And Heimdall never felt so proud to call you his forever.

"Baldur, don't put a copper in your mouth!" What a fine day to live.

[bitchysouljellyfish]

Soliloquy

Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Dedicated to @yeyinde and @moondirti for their incredible writings! Seriously I haven't written this often in years so...let's go! Song this was inspired by ⬇️

Simon was alone.

Alone on the roof, mask off and a cigarette in-between his lips and a beer bottle hanging precariously from his fingers. He had nothing but the multitudes of thoughts doing sprints in his brain, a rare chance when he wasn't aware of his surroundings and he could just...be.

He'd been on this mission all of two weeks when he got a call from you, going straight to Price to make sure you wouldn't be delayed. At first he thought the worst, someone had broken in, someone had targeted you, an enemy from his past had showed up and had you hostage and this was the last time he would hear from you.

He wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't two words he'd never thought he'd hear.

Simon took a long drag of his smoke, focusing in the cherry red end go brighter before dulling, the soothing feeling of smoke entering his lungs and tobacco on his tongue easing his mind somewhat. He had no idea what to say, hardly said anything to you before he had to hang up and go over the plan with the team before they were dismissed for the evening. Simon should call you back, but still he had no idea what to say.

"You alright Lt.?" Soap's familiar comforting accent cut through the otherwise quiet night.

"Johnny. Thought you'd be at the bonfire."

"I was, then I noticed a certain Ghost wasn't haunting the area." Soap grunted as he sat beside him, passing him another beer before cracking open his own. "Saw you take that call, was it your hen?"

Soap was the only one other than Price who had known about you, and had been at the elopement ceremony simply because you two needed a witness and he was right there. He was about to go on a deployment for months with no guarantee he would come back, and Simon wanted to make sure you would get his pension if the worst did happen. So, a quick run to the dress shops and then to the courthouse and you were officially Mrs. Simon Riley. He'd gotten you a better ring when he did return, a rock as big as Soap's head and a house away from the city to make up for all the time he's away. That was a year and a half ago now, and he still liked calling you Mrs. Riley.

That wasn't the only reason to marry you, he should clarify, he did want to spend the rest of his life with you, a sense of belonging when he came back home and a reason to stay alive. He supposes he has another reason to come home now though.

"Yeah," he knocked off the ash and took a swig.

"Yeah? Everything alright?" He took one look at the far away look in his eyes and felt his heart break for the man. "Dont tell me it was a Dear John call."

"No, no, she wouldn't-" Simon hoped you wouldn't, "it's not that. She's pregnant."

Why did that leave his lips so easily? He could barely wrap his mind around the idea of you with a lad inside your belly and it being half of him and half of you and-

"Fuckin' hell she's pregnant." He said it again, snubbing out his cancer stick and standing with his hands on his hips.

"Steamin Jesus." Soap breathed out behind him. "That just hit ya?"

"Shut the fuck up Johnny." There was no real venom in it, too focused on the more important revelation at hand. What would he think of him? The lad could call him the old man or some variation, toddling on his little legs to him with his arms out stretched for his dad to pick him up. What could he teach him? Sure, he could teach him to fight or to swim but that was it. He had no life skills, no domestic traits that he could pass on to a son.

"Fuck am I going to do? The hell am I going to do for Jack?" He muttered, pacing a few times before sitting back down next to Johnny.

"Well, you're gonnae do ok if you've already got a name picked out." Soap leaned back on his hands and nudged him with his boot. "What do you think he'll look like?"

"Probably be as big as me. Tall and as a tough as a bloody tree. Can't imagine having to squeeze out this head through you." He knocked on his head.

Soap had never seen him like this. He was...hopeful, dare he say it. Ghost had probably never thought about something like this, never had the opportunity to think this far in his life before. God knows Soap was the most confused he's ever been when Ghost told him to put on a tie and get to the courthouse and lo and behold he had a sweet lil Bonnie lass he was marrying that day. Now, hes got a bairn on the way?

"I think you're forgetting a very important part of the pie, Simon."

He turned to him with a fire in his eyes, arms crossed over his chest and venom in his voice. "What?"

"Jack could be Jackie."

His eyes went wide in a rare display of emotion. "What the fuck am I going to do with her? I can barely handle the woman I'm married to how the fuck am I gonna handle a daughter? Fucking Christ, I can just imagine her...if she looks anything like her mother I'm fucked. Might as well get a bloody shotgun to hang on top of the fireplace..." Simon ran his hands down his face, doing just that and imagining a little girl attached at her mother's hip. She'd be sweet and loving, like peaches and cream from the shop his own mother would take him when his father hadn't drank their money away.

Or perhaps it could be two? One of each or two daughters or two sons and they'd be the apple of his eye. His heart began to pound, imaging the life his children, God his, yours, a family. An honest to God family and he didn't want to miss a moment of it.

"I need to talk to Price." Simon tossed his cigarette over the roof and dumped the rest of his beer out.

"What for?"

"To go home!"

Soap watched him leave with a laugh, cheering to him behind his back. "Good luck, brother."

Price managed to get him home in another two weeks after he worked his ass off to finish the mission. He hardly had time to wipe his ass he was so focused on getting home to you. He hadn't even called you which was a massive fuckin mistake on his part, yes he knew, but he hoped the bouquet of flowers and tiny beanie he had bought on a whim would make it up to you along with a promise that he wasn't going anywhere for a very long time.

Price got another call about nine months later, inviting the team to meet his wife and daughter. June was her name, and he had been right. She was the spitting image of her mother.

[soledadcatalina]

[id: 3 digital sketches: first featuring alex and zee from escape from furnace peering over the balcony railing. alex, holding a hand over his eyes and squinting says "okay. so that one says "fuck the world" but what about the other jacket?". zee, to his right, has a hand to his chin, replies puzzled "its piss... uh... um. can i say that if im not british?". the second sketch is bodie, also from escape from furnace, holding a paint brush says "something for the warden to think about, lads" as the red graffiti behind him reads "if shit sucks hit da bricks". the third sketch is of cuno and cunoesse in furnace jumpsuits, both trying to save face while cunoesse peers from behind cuno.]

crossover for a target audience of me.

also i think its funny that both de and eff cant think of a better juvenile gang name than "skulls" that im supposed to take seriously

[silverskye13]

“Playing a dangerous game, aren’t ye, laddie?”

Ren hangs the anvil BDubs had bestowed upon him over the throne. It’s a heavy, dangerous thing, meant to represent the weight and power behind his responsibilities. Or at least, that’s what he figures BDubs was trying to get across when he hit him with it.  BDubs is a little hard to decipher when it comes to these things sometimes. Ren thinks maybe all the moss has gotten to BDubs’ head. At least this time the infection just instills a sense of adventure, instead of dragging him off into the jungle like his last plant-based infestation. 

Ren’s spent the better part of a hour replacing the diorite floors and wall of his new throne room with deepslate tiles. It matches his colors better. Red and white is a palette he’s been intentionally avoiding, though not hard enough, apparently. He catches his reflection in the polished deepslate tiles. They’re too dark to be a true mirror, but the massive form of The Red King is unmistakable. His blood-soaked legacy sticks to the bottom of Ren's shoes like a shadow, always following just a step behind.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ren sniffs.

"I notice you've neglected a proper crown this time," The Red King continues, undaunted. "Ye fear being a target even still. Even among friends."

"I was among friends last time," Ren answers defensively. "It was just a game. Besides, this is Hermitcraft."

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Yer wars here are bloodier."

"They're not." Ren steps back from the throne, nodding to himself when he decides the anvil is hanging straight. "And even if they were, they're more inconsequential. All anyone will lose is, what? A few hours and a few levels, maybe some gear if the pranks get crazy."

"The magician kens not what he asks of ye," The Red King insists. "Ye are falling for the same pitfalls ye did before lad. Was not Dogwarts the product of wishful thinking?"

"Why do you care?" Ren snaps. He's losing his patience. "You hate me, remember?"

"I'm trying to help ye, Rendog." The Red King's voice growls low, a whisper that feels like it comes from the depths of the earth. It fixes Ren in place like a knife to his throat, like a threat. The Red King's voice is beside his ear, like instead of speaking from a reflection in the tiles, he's standing right behind him. "Heavy is the crown bestowed on the unwilling, lad. Or the unworthy."

Ren tries to find his voice. Tries to come up with some digging reply. He could point out this is just another trick to make him feel bad about himself. See? You think I'm unworthy. Drop the facade of help and care. But he can't speak, because The Red King's voice begins again, so low Ren almost can't hear it over his own breathing.

"A good King rules in the interest of his people. He makes the hard decisions so they aren't burdened with them. He commands, because he is just. He revives peace in the corners of the world where it struggles to breathe."

The room is suddenly silent. Ren feels stiff, like he's locked in place. He's still staring at the anvil over the throne, but it looks less like an anvil and more like an axe head.

"Do you have what it takes to be a good king, Ren?"

Rockets sound overhead, and the freeze in Ren's limbs melts like a candle under dragon fire. Doc swoops onto the landing pad, beaming.

"Ren! There you are! Bro, oh my god, you've got to see what me and the hivemind came up with." Doc slaps his hands together and offers a maniacal grin. "Operation Skyfall on that Pesky Bird is ready."

Ren laughs nervously. Doc tells him about a death machine he's made like a kid discovering a new candy store down the street. This doesn't have to start a war. That's what they've said for the past three seasons. And even if it does start a war, there's no real loss.

He tells himself this as he flies after Doc, watching the red and white flash of metal and redstone grow closer.

[amuseoffyre]

Despite the number of times I’ve watched the show now, something just hit me from episode one. When Stede’s getting the crew kitted up to fool the English, he casts Pete as “Lord Peter Gravelstone, minor royalty from Essex” and describes the white crew members as a bunch of “upper crust lads”.

Not Mister. Not even just ‘Sir’. He tried to pretend they were actual nobility.

I’ve blathered on before about Stede’s place in the class hierarchy in relation to the Badmintons and the British Naval officers (ie. he’s new-money gentry, but they’re mostly aristocracy, which means he’s barely above trade for them) and hooboy, the fact that he basically ranks up his companions in order to outclass the Badmintons is either a ballsy or a desperate move.

Stede is an easy target for anyone who is legit aristocracy for many reasons, but especially as a jolly jump-up from the colonies. By seating a Lord at his table as one of his passengers/travelling companions, maybe he thought it would provide a buffer, but every single one of the Naval crew takes one look at those unconvincing muppets and they know these aren’t aristocrats. And even if they were, any aristocrat would probably laugh along with Nigel and Company at this bumpkin and his bumpkin friends.

[todaysdocument]

“Pistol Practice,” by USCG artist Vestal, September 8, 1943.

Record Group 26: Records of the U.S. Coast Guard

Series: Photographs of Activities, Facilities, and Personalities

File Unit: Art by Vestal through Wood

Image description: Cartoons accompany each line of text, which read: Gawsh! A real gun and real bullets! / Dry fire - this is going to be a pushover, nothing to it! / .38, small stuff. No sense crampin’ my hand squeezin’ so tight - awk! / They told him to hold his arm steady and squeeze but they didn’t tell him how to keep the target steady. / Too unsteady at arms length. Trys gun a little closer. Result . . . bunker blacked out. / The cowboy movie addict who doesn’t realize he’s not in the wide open spaces. / Can’t figure how with ten rounds there are twenty holes in the target. / Then there’s the guy who forgot and turned around on the firing line, a loaded pistol in his hand. / The lad who shoots with his eyes closed because he’s afraid of guns and probably wouldn’t hit the target anyway.