#rest in boose

[muggycuphead]

Phiddie's Drunk FancyJanuary 2024 - Day 26

Day #26 – Oh god no

“We’ve spent the whole day fixing this up, truly one of the crew’s biggest masterpie- WHAT IN TARNATION”

The Rabbit must’ve conspired on this, I bet’cha he did that long-eared rascal bozo-

<- Day 25

Day 27 ->

Wanna see the other prompts? Check my teaser here

[theosphobia]

Hello rvbblr, rvb tumblr, the 3 people always liking my posts.

I bring my first ever fanfiction. and its rvb. idk how ao3 works so im just gonna drop it in here and hope thats accceptable.... erm... anyways

Everyone got seperated; the reds and blues were scattered in a pirate stronghold. Their long range comms were down and pirates lurked around every corner trying to hunt the sim troopers down.

Washington had just survived a scuffle, breaking into a run as he heard familiar shouting not too far off. Just around a couple shipping containers, Wash found Caboose standing over a pirate, Freckles' barrel smoking from fresh fire.

The blue caught the solider in the side of his vision and raised the ai-assisted rifle towards him, confetti dispersed from the gun.

"Friendly Signature Detected."

"Agent Washington! Uhm, he was like that when I got here."

Wash pushed the thought of Caboose firing at him away, he was just glad to see a friendly face.

"Caboose! Have you seen anyone else?" Wash asked, jogging up to the larger character.

Caboose looked back down at the pirate he was resting his foot on,

"On our team Caboose."

"Oh! No." Caboose shook his head and moved away from the body, sizing up to Wash.

"Are you doing okay? You hurt anywhere?" Wash started to walk and the other followed closely.

"I'm a little stressed out... and hungry.." he started. "We should find Griff next!"

Wash chuckled and patted Caboose on the back, "Hey Freckles?" The gun chimed in response, "can you find any other friendly contacts?"

"Nearest Friendly Tag is 356m away. Identification: Lavernius Tucker."

"Awesome, Can you guide us to him?" Wash asked. The custom laser sight on the rifle turned on and pointed forward. Caboose stared curiously, turning the gun from side to side, the line remained aimed toward its original path. Caboose gave a coo of amazement.

"Lets get going, the sooner we find the others the better."

--

Wash and Caboose followed Freckles' guide until they hit a large pond in the cave; they could see the remainder of the pirate stronghold on the otherside, but the water seemed to stretch to the walls, and they couldn't see the bottom. The laser ran true straight across the water.

Washington stopped for a moment to think while Caboose took a couple steps into the pond.

"I saw something over here! It might be those sim troopers!"

A voiced called from not too far away. Wash cursed to himself, a group of red dots were moving towards them on his motion tracker.

"Maybe they know how we can get across!" Caboose cheered, turning around towards the noise and started walking. Wash caught him by the arm,

"Caboose no they're trying to kill us remember?"

"Oh yeah.."

"There's no time, we're just gonna have to go through it." Wash sighed, leading the blue giant back towards the water and stepping in.

"Uhm I can't swim very well.." Caboose started, standing a bit back from Wash.

"We're not swimming, our suits will recycle air for a while, we should just be able to walk along the bottom." Washington informed him. The other man didn't argue, stashed Freckles, and followed along, both of the started to move as fast as they could in half-ton armour in water as the shouting grew louder.

They were fully submerged for a while before Wash started to notice something wrong, he was wet.

"Uh 'boose.... buddy, not to scare you or anything but I think my armour is filling up with water." Wash could feel a cut in his kevlar around his neck. He must have gotten it in that fight earlier.

"Wuh oh.." Caboose had stopped and turned to look at Wash, somehow he had managed to be moving faster than the freelancer. "Should we go back?" There was a tinge of panic in his voice.

"We can't... we just have to move faster, it can't be that much farther now" He tried holding his hand to seal the hole but water still managed to seep through his fingers, the water was hitting his waist now.

Caboose nodded and reached back, grabbing Wash's free hand, and started pulling him along so their treck sped up.

At some point, the weight behind him stalled.

"Agent Washington?"

"It's in my helmet."

Wash couldn't see, but Caboose's eyes widened. He moved closer to Washington,

"Freckles uhm.. how much further?" The blue asked as he began picking up Wash and slinging him over his shoulder without protest.

"Nearest Friendly Tag is 189m away"

Panic was rising in his voice, "okay thank you Freckles!" His speed was considerably lessened with the extra weight but that didn't stop Caboose from making his strides as quick as possible.

--

Wash had stopped responding about halfway from their predictament. Caboose didn't stop moving until they breached the shore on the other side.

Caboose laid Washington on the ground and unholstered Freckles, laying it behind them.

"Freckles you lookout for bad guys."

"Affirmative."

Oh crap oh crap oh crap... Caboose's hands shook as his fingers fumbled with the clasps on Wash's helmet and chestplate.

Water poured out as the seals broke, Wash's hair clung to his forehead. His chest laid still.

What do I do what do I do?? Think Michael think!! Caboose tried to remember what Doc had taught them ages ago. CPR CPR...

"First check to see if they're breathing! If they're not then you'll probably have to perform CPR. Since Grif already knows how to do it he'll be my demonstration."

Caboose glanced at the still freelancer, his chest was still, their chest moves when they breath right?

"Remember, you guys are wearing half-ton armour so you won't have to compress as hard as you would if you weren't. You should press down twice per second, there's songs that help but Beyoncé is timeless so we're gonna use Crazy In Love." Caboose positioned himself above Wash, tried to remember the correct hand shape, and hovered above the freelancer's chest. What if I mess up I don't want to kill Wash he's not special like Church is... he won't come back..

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. He started compressing, finding it easier to just count than remember Doc's silly song.

"Every 30 or so compressions try and give rescue breaths! Tilt their head back a little while pinching their nose to open their airway. Then you're gonna blow into their mouth a normal amount just enough so their chest rises; do that twice. If it doesn't rise make sure they don't have anything stuck in their throat. Grif is that gum I see in there?"

Caboose quickly brought his face to Wash's, blood splattered across his visor.

"Haha whoops sorry Washington!" He brought his hands back to unclasp his own helmet and set it to the side; turning back to brush away some of the bloody nose with his hand.

Caboose lingered slightly, he could feel the air around them now, he could also feel the lack of air coming from Wash's mouth. He cradled the back of Wash's neck in his hand, pinched his nose with the other and started his rescue breaths.

He fell into autopilot, repeating the steps in his mind over and over as he did them until a sharp breath came from Washington, as did a mouthful of cave pond water.

Caboose helped him sit up as Wash coughed up his missing breaths; his gaze fixated on the older man's movement.

"Caboose?" The blue's eyes bore into Wash, he seemed terrified. The feeling broke at the sound of his name however.

"Agent Washington you're okay! You should avoid drinking pond water, I don't think it's good for you." There was smeared blood on Caboose's face, Wash dipped his hand into the water and rubbed it against the stain.

"How'd you get blood on you 'Boose? Where's your helmet?" The other blue wore his helmet so often it was rare to see his face, his hair had gotten a bit longer and Wash could see wearing smile lines from his angle.

"Oh uhm! So when we got out of the water you weren't breathing so I tried to give you Cee Pee Arr but I forgot to take my helmet off! So now you have a bloody nose and you shared it with me when I gave you rescuing breaths!" He smiled, reaching beside him to grab his helm and snapped it back on, his second face returned.

Wash rubbed the back of his hand against his face, his helmet was off as well, and his own blood smeared against the glove.

"Holy shit you saved my life Caboose."

"I did?" His head tilted and he perked up again."I did! Oh my god does that mean my team kills go down? Because I saved you?"

Wash chuckled, clasping his breastplate back on and grabbing his helmet.

"Sure it does."

"Oh! You should probably cover that hole in case we have to go swimming again, Church always packed some for me..." Caboose dug around in his utility belt and procured a large patch used for underarmour sealing; he handed it to Wash and watched as the freelancer slapped it against his neck and rubbed it down.

"Geez thanks Caboose, you're really on it today." Wash said as brushed his hair back and locked his helm back in place.

Caboose wiggled from his seated position, paused, and grabbed Freckles before firing behind him.

Confetti dispersed from the rifle.

"Friendly Signature Detected."

"Caboose what the hell?! Did you really just try to shoot me?"

"Hi Tucker!"

[naradreamscape]

Content Warning for "UrbanSPOOK" Analog Horror Series

So, in recent months, a new analog horror/ARG series called UrbanSPOOK has joined Youtube, and it's even been covered by a number of indie horror exploration channels (i.e. Goose Boose, Gearisko, etc.), which I know is going to pull a lot of new viewers towards the channel. However, a number of things in the series really need to be addressed, since they're not exactly warned about in the series. This post is not a callout nor any call to harass the creator, Urbanslug; I just wanted to step in and raise a flag.

UrbanSPOOK's premise is that several VHS tapes have been found, of unknown origin, cataloguing the crimes of an unknown serial killer who leaves behind surrealist paintings of their crimes. Little clues as to what happened to their victims are dropped in the evidence, paintings, and witness testimonials, and these can be very disturbing, far more so than other indie series. A disclaimer does play at the beginning of each "tape" warning about general violence and disturbing content. However, I feel people should be aware of sexual violence when going into media of any kind. Moreover, the series's creator sells merch of all of the killer's paintings, including the ones heavily implied to be of abused children.

(Content warning for the rest of this post: references to animal abuse, child abuse, CSA, descriptions of highly violent acts. Don't say I didn't warn you; these descriptions are written only as detailed as they need to be in order to convey why new viewers should approach with caution, and why it's a little Uhhhhh how merch is being sold of these (fictional) crimes.)

At least two of the unnamed killer's victims are children. Most significantly, one painting unveiled in the first episode, "FACES", is called "Fucktoy Cory", depicting a bloated body's face. The third episode, "IN THE WALLS", reveals Cory is the name of an 11 year old, one of two twins who were both murdered, split in half, and then sewn one to the other. The creator has confirmed the painting is of the murdered boy named Cory.

In the most recent episode, "PIGS", a child's severed, eyeless head is found in an abandoned building the killer had been living in. Her painting is called "Four Holes Fiona". There has been a lot of speculation in the video's comments as to what the implications are about this title, most of them concluding that the killer was using the head for something foul.

In the same episode, Fiona's grandmother Mae is found heavily ravaged and dead from internal bleeding, along with a horse that died from heart failure after being overfed sildenafil citrate - the pharmaceutical name for Viagra. Mae's painting is called "Breeding Mount Mae". A breeding mount is a piece of farm equipment meant for stallions to mate with, so their semen can be collected for equine breeding.

The creator of the series promises that things will only get "worse" as it goes along, which is worrying, especially when the only disclaimers given are for "violent and disturbing content" and this content goes from "skinned alive" to "fucked to death by a horse" at the drop of a hat. The paintings for all of the above, along with the rest of the paintings, are sold at their official Creator-Spring shop, on t-shirts. I'm not entirely sure why you'd want to wear something knowing its original context is someone getting killed with the ole "Mr. Hands" maneuvre, but take this as a record that these images, with the same titles given in-series, were available at one point as on-demand printed merchandise.

Finally, a friend brought up to me that "spook" is a racial epithet against Black people in America. However, Urbanslug is from Sweden and likely did not know of the word's connotations other than meaning "spooky", or "scary". I will clear them on that accusation.

Again, do not go and harass the creator of this series. This post is just intended as a sort of warning label. Analog horror is more popular than ever, and with the Writer's Guild strike coming up, I anticipate a lot of people will begin looking for indie series to consume while mainstream television is put on hold. I walked into this series blind, and had no idea how grim it was going to get so soon.

You can call me a wimp, or "triggered", or whatever the hell you'd like for making a post about this, but extreme media and figuring out how far is too far is one of my big focuses in my journalism and archiving. I just finished an article about Agony in Pink that concluded with me saying it had the right to exist; with this in mind, UrbanSPOOK was so extreme and so under-warned that even I had to say something.

[burning-fcols]

✧ 「  @ʜᴇʟʟꜱ-ꜰᴠʀʏ   」   ✧  - ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ★

「 ☆ 」 The argument starts out doing what was intended… It knocks Husk from his high-and-mighty throne, the shock sending the feline into a haphazard scramble of justification. Yelling is preferable to the dry criticism he had been spewing earlier, Angel able to accept it easier. He’s used to being screamed at. To being the object of someone else’s fury. It’s judgment that’s harder to swallow; the clear, composed tone of someone repeating what Angel already knows. But this? This is borderline amusing, watching Husk defend the sacredness of the film industry against the plague of porn.

It’s not a fight he can win… and yet Husk digs in anyway. Maybe Alastor has a point when he goes on about how much fun it can be to watch someone struggle to accomplish an impossible feat.

It isn’t until mention of a ❛ two bit whore ❜ — the others concern misconstrued as condemning —that it becomes a lot less fun. Stiffening where he stands, fur bristles as narrowed eyes meet Husk with a matched ( if misdirected ) malice. Frustrated at himself for how deeply such a common insult managed to cut and how clearly it did, clenched fists and tense shoulders don’t waver while a venomous gaze follows the feline out the door. Growling deep in the back of his throat, Angel is only able to hold himself back for a breath before he’s storming out as well. Nothing but a brash— ❝ Out fer a smoke! ❞ —leaving his lips when asked where he was going.

Pushing open the front doors with a vengeance, Angel doesn’t look at Husk despite clearly having followed him. Instead he stalks forward to stand a few feet away— close enough to be a nuisance but far enough to keep pointedly ignoring him —and pulls out a package of cigarettes from his chest fluff, along with a lighter. Rosegold and of delicate design, engraved with a pattern of hearts, the inscription ❛ Forever ❜ up the side in swirled letters. Thumb subconsciously runs across the word, feeling it before he flips it open and tries to light a cigarette. Grumbling under his breath as it takes a few attempts, the lighter fighting Angel’s sharp movements, it finally ignites.

Expression crinkled in disdain as he inhales deeply, red smokes billows from Angel’s lips with an audible sigh. Posture relaxes, disgust shed in favor of daresay gratitude flashing in Angel’s tired gaze. Relief… and the strength to turn and face Husk, irritation re-ignited as he snaps, ❝ Y'know what yer problem is? Yer sittin' up on yer fuckin' high-horse, talkin' shit 'bout ev'ryone around you— like you ain't jus' some bitta' boose-slinga' who prob'bly hasn' gotten laid in years. ❞

Resting a hand on his cocked hip, signature scarlet smoke trails in the air from his cigarette as he beholds Husk through narrowed eyes, ❝ Well, I don' give a SHIT what you or anyone in that hotel thinks. ❞ A slight slip of the tongue, Angel betraying that Husk isn't the only person he feels looked down on by. ❝ 'Cause I'm proud of what I do. An' I do it well. In fact, I'm th' fuckin' BEST in th' bus'ness. ❞ Flicking his cigarette at Husk's feet, he leans closer and snaps, ❝ An' if ya don' believe it, jus' ask ANYONE in this rancid shit-hole 'cause I guran-fuckin'-tee they've ALL gotten off thanks ta me. I've got more fans than you could eva' fuckin' DREAM of, Pussy-Cat. ❞

❝ So clearly, I'm doin' somethin' right. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[the-keeper-of-midnight]

How would the ROs react to a drunk mc stumbling to there door and calling the ROs name.

Let's start with Zhan

Zhan opens door, looks at MC up and down. "Go home, MC. You're drunk!"

Then closes door.

Lan: opens door and quickly brings MC inside. Roll up MC into a warm blanket and give MC some water and headache pills for the hangover that will follow.

Ashley: opens doors. Looks at MC and shakes head. "First of all, you look like a mess, second, my name is Ashley, not Adrian! and third... Did you even save me any of that boose?"

Mack: Opens door, looks at MC. "Ah shit! Here we go again."

Walks outside and carries MC bridal style to get them inside on the sofa so MC can rest.

Kar: opens door and immediately uses telekinesis power to keep MC from falling. They would float drunk-ass MC inside into bed for a deserved good night's sleep.

[knif1e]

i don’t post often but this is haunting me i must leave my post of #1 rvb blog lurker to say

Birdhouse In Your Soul by They Might Be Giants is such a church song i’m going to explode. It’s so churchboose (platonic romantic whatever you want) it’s literally written about them.

I'm your only friend

I'm not your only friend

But I'm a little glowing friend

But really I'm not actually your friend

But I am

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch

Who watches over you

Make a little birdhouse in your soul

CHURCH IS A LITTLE GLOWING FRIEND RAHHHHH. And like church’s general stubbornness to recognize his friendship with boose. Caboose’s job is to remember him! he makes a little birdhouse in his soul!!!! i’m gonna cry it’s so them. Church will always watch over Caboose, im not following like a timeline the song just represents their relationship in my head. but like with church leaving the sniper rifle literally watching over them.

So the room must listen to me

Filibuster vigilantly

My name is blue canary, one note spelled l-i-t-e

My story's infinite

Like the Longines Symphonette, it doesn't rest

i’m talking for too long idc. Filibuster vigilantly is so church. his story is infinite. with his constant reincarnations and whatnot his existence does not get to rest.

There's a picture opposite me

Of my primitive ancestry

Which stood on rocky shores

And kept the beaches shipwreck free

Though I respect that a lot

I'd be fired if that were my job

After killing Jason off and countless screaming Argonauts

Bluebird of friendliness

Like guardian angels, it's always near

now this is where the autism in my brain kinda lets go of reality and drifts off into space. the song is contextually comparing the bluebird glowing friend to a lighthouse and how he couldn’t do that job. anyways my brain is interpreting this as epsilon comparing himself to alpha and what he represented to the bgc. like epsilon can never be who alpha was to caboose( or even the rest of the crew) but he will still act as a guardian angel and do what he can for them ugh.

anyways this was horribly written completely incoherent. deeply ashamed this is my first foray into actively areveebee posting. anyway this song is about them i asked They Might Be Giants themselves. the song loops back into the main chorus after these lines but whenever it plays i get so overwhelmed. like church and cabooses friendship relationship whatever is so important to me. omg they are friends so crazy. i would try to actually plot out my analysis of this song for an interpretation about them but all my ideas are based completely on whims. so this is what i got i just wanted to tell everyone else.

[yesyourstalker]

Neta: BABE!!! Come on! We're going to be late for Pearl's party

Ikkan: Neta you can't be late for one of Pearl's parties. We're probably gonna come home around 12 noon one of us hungover and the other shit faced.

Neta: Ahhh Pearl's parties where no one is a designated driver. The last party we saw taka passed out in the bathroom. He puked in the bathtub! hahahahah!

Ikkan: that was her holiday party hehe... One of my favorite parties, especially when we went to the garage hehehe.

Neta. Ooooooooohehehe..... The garage..... Maybe when no one's looking we can sneak back down to the garage, smoke a bowl, listen to some music maybe a vhs tape and snoop through your garage

Ikkan: hmmmmmmm....*kiss*.. you're gross...ok got my bass, got the boose. Neta. Get my car keys for me please- oh and look in the bottom drawer there should be some condnnnnn-diments. Hey Warabi.

Neta: uh....Warabal

Warabi: sorry for barging in but Pearl invited me to her party!! I never went to a celebrity house party before! Well I have, most for the parties I've gone to were rap parties for one of my parents movies.

Neta: pffft...wow. so humble...... I got the keys and the "CoNDiMenTs" .......I'll be in the car

Ikkan:.... Neta...*sigh*... Ok. Well...... Are you sure you want to go. These types of parties.......you know they get really intense.......real quick..... You're still a kid

Warabi: I'M 22!! I'm not a baby okay!! I'm tired of everyone treating you like I am!! If I wanted to be lectured I would have stayed with my parents! I just need a ride to the party!

Ikkan: I don't see you as a baby Warabi..... it's just-

Neta: your pampered little nepo baby cosplaying as a punk.

Ikkan: Neta! Get back in the car!

Neta: I'm going, I'm going I forget the edibles

Warabi: hiiii netty

Neta: 🖕🏾

Ikkan: NETA!....... Don't listen to him. He's just saying that cuz he doesn't like you.

Warabi: humph......what ever....... I don't care what he thinks.....can I just get a ride?

Ikkan: yeah, come on. If something happens call me. Don't look for me! .. just-just call ok?

Warabi: ooook mooom.

*They head to the car*

Neta: do they not have a car?

Ikkan: they don't have their license, just a permit.

Neta: can't they just pay someone to drive them

Ikkan: Neta that's enough! I know you two don't get along but tonight be seville. This place is huge you two don't have to see each other for the rest of the party.

Neta: ok babe... I'm sorry. I'll be nice.

Ikkan: ok....pearl's place at the reef or the hills? Because if it's The reef that's probably her studio apartment. I remember her apartment number.

Neta: nah it's in the hills. She just posted a pic of the pool with the slide, it's in the hills. *Sigh* The house in the hills..............We met at one of the hills parties, didn't we? Yeah it's during an award show after party. I remember pearl wanted me to meet you

FLASH BACK

Ikkan: so they already replaced me. *humph*....... good for them, I guess. Who is he?

Pearl: he's an octarian. He just came to the surface a couple months ago. They're starting their tour in 3 weeks

Ikkan: hm

Pearl: are you mad?

Ikkan: nah...... I'm not mad.....nami, Murasaki and I are on speaking terms now ......that's great

Pearl: well considering that you're not mad..... I invited squid squad to the party including the replacement bass player

Ikkan: UH pearl! Come on!...... what!?

Pearl: what was I supposed to do, not invite my friends because you guys are in a little quarrel?!

Ikkan: Uhhhhh *sigh* no

Pearl: I feel like you would like him. He's kind of cute.

Ikkan: babe I don't trust your judgment with guys. You don't even like men.

Pearl : I dated you didn't I?!

Ikkan: that doesn't count I was pre T and I didn't evn-

Pearl: oh my god!!! Shut up!!!! Come on, I'm going to get you a man. Maybe if you get laid you won't be soooooo.......... ikkan like

Ikkan: no I don't want to and what do you mean by ikkan like?

Pearl: Don't worry about it, we're almost there anyway, come on.

Ikkan: fine ......let me see this jackass

Pearl: Neta!

Neta: hey lil P.....oh...... hey..... you're ikkan right?

Ikkan:......oh, wow...........he's hot........ Uhhhhh....... yeah uhahah... I'm ikkan that's me hahaha... yeah so..uh uh ha...hahaha. I-I forgot what I was going to say hahah I'm sorry I -I laugh when I'm nervous hahaha

Neta: you ok man?

Ikkan: hehehe is anyone really ok?.......hahaha uh I'mgoingtogetdrunk BYE.. fuck!

Neta: ooook he seems........cool.... Kind of cute tho

Pearl: pffff oh my god....heheheheheh. He's usually not this weird....hehehe I'm sorry.... Hehehehehehe

FLASH BACK END

Ikkan: I was not that awkward. Stop it.

Neta: you really were babe. It was really cute. It's like you fell in love just at the sight of me.

Ikkan: I didn't fall in love at the first sight of you. I was just really shocked that you're taller than me ok that was ok.

Neta: sure ok..... You totally fell for me......... I met you again at the bar. After a couple words, little flirting and you fell asleep right next to me. After that we were together *kiss*

Ikkan: I passed out right next to you because we were both drunk. Also that was the first time we met we didn't date until 5 months after that.

Neta: well the details are kind of blurry. All I know is that met the love of my life that day mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah, *kiss* *kiss* *kiss* loooovve you babe.

Ikkan: hehehehe I love you too Neta. pay attention to the road.

Warabi: uh gross........are we almost at the party!?

Neta: yeah get your leggings out of a twist scrawny we're almost there.

End P1

[kuh-boose]

Ik these posts get depressing but if someone would like to help me cover a drop off cat's spay I would be forever grateful.

This is Pigeon, she was dumped on the farm I work at as a skeleton with a respitory infection (last pic in this first set). Now she's quite a bit better and has the run of the barn and barn kitchen.

I'm looking at getting her spayed under a low cost program that covers the hysterectomy itself, but the rest of the bill (sedation, pain meds, etc) will be up to me. And that is a minimum of $220usd, and I am a chronically broke bitch soooo. After that the goal is get her adopted out, which a local rescue will help me with (they don't have the resources to take her right now).

Venmo is @Kuh-boose

Any help would be greatly appreciated, but please feel no guilt if you choose not to. These posts always make me feel guilty and please know I don't want you to feel the same.

Side note, if you dump your animals on farms, or anywhere really, I hate you and I hope in death every animal you abandoned chews your toes for eternity.

[prvtbugsbuggins]

Grif is stronk as fuck: An Essay

I'm thinking more about Grif and how strong he is as I practice sketching his body type. You may not think he's strong just by looking at him, but I think he's actually the second strongest character in the Sim troopers.

Why? Because actual strong people do not have chiseled abs or a V shaped body. They are THICC. Like, look at this guy here.

Dude is healthy and strong as all hell. Grif may have more fat on him but there is nothing but sheer muscle under the fat. The fat is there so that people punch him and break their hands while he laughs.

So I have a mind for a short story where Grif gets sick of everyone fat shaming him (cept for Simmons cause Simmons loves the softness and Caboose because Boose doesn't like being mean), so he challenges them to play ball with him and Caboose.

And what ball game is this?

This ball game here. It's called Atlas Stones, and the weight of each stone ball gets progressively heavier, and the person must lift them up and put them on the pillars.

I headcanon Caboose as a Spartan so Atlas Stones for him isn't that big of a deal, but he loves spending time with Grif playing a game together! Plus Caboose is there as a spotter just in case Grif grips one wrong and it starts to slip, safety is important! But Grif? Oh man Grif just practices with those stones all the time when he can and when he calls everyone out, he takes them back to their little game area.

And he challenges those fuckers to lift up those stones as fast as he can.

And since Grif and Caboose have been having fun with them for so long, the lightest stone is 270lbs.

And Grif stands there and laughs while watching everyone struggle while Caboose whispers if they should get the 'baby' stones out. Grif says yes and Caboose comes out with 100lbs stones.

Probably Wash, Carolina, and Sarge can manage those stones, but Tucker is fucking rekt. Simmons tries to lift them too just to see if he can but has to be rescued before it can crush him.

Grif has to fuel all that stronk, hence why he's snacking all the time. He needs those calories and he needs that rest to let muscles heal properly.

So thus his friends stop with the fat shaming because now they know that if they piss him off too much, he can bend them in half without breaking a sweat.

[maraudersbutmuggle]

Leather

Content Warning: Parent's abuse, violence.

Summer, 1994.

Walburga fancied Alex. How could she not, if he acted all tough with everyone, except her? And damn... He was everything that her parents would despise... Older, lower class, terrible grades at school, no future, love for cigarettes and rock n' roll... Walburga wanted to be with a man. A real one. Not like a brat like Orion, he was just a boy.

Walburga had met Alex and his mates a month ago. Party crashers in the Hogwarts graduation party. After Walburga had been called "slut" by the owner of the house, Rebeca Thomas, she heard Alex and his mates whispering and giggling.

"This party is bloody boring, man..."

"Bloody pretentious rich brats"

"I can help you make things more interesting" Walburga commented.

"Who'da fuck r' you?"

And Alex raised his hand to shut his friend up.

"Aren't you rich too, girl?"

"Not in spirit" Walburga answered "And I know where the Thomases keep their strong expensive alcohol..."

Alex and his friends giggled. She was beautiful. And Walburga knew how to take that in advantage sometimes.

"What's ur name?" Alex asked.

"Just call me Wal"

"Okay... Just Wal... Let's make this a real party..."

In between the alcohol and the drugs the blokes had, the police ended up showing up. And Rebeca Thomas' trip to America was cancelled by her parents. Sweet revenge.

So Walburga had been spending her time with Alex and the mates. Just because she could. She wanted to have fun, enjoy her last days of freedom before her parents send her to Paris. And auntie Cassiopeia would make sure she marry a "decent rich bloke".

Alex knew Walburga had money. But he didn't know she was a Black. They didn't need to know. She was ashamed of being one.

"The money fo' the boose, sugar momma..." one of Alex' friends extended his hand and giggled.

"Don't bother her, Gus" Alex said angrily. Then he turned to look at Walburga and smiled "Don't worry Wal, it's our treat today"

Walburga smiled back. And she was blushing. She definitely had a crush.

"But we don' 'ave money, Alex" Gus said confused.

"Shush..."

Walburga snorted. And she took out the pounds she had borrowed from Alphard's wallet earlier.

"Here, Alex..."

She was flirting. And Alex smiled as she grabbed the bills. He was looking at her red lips. Probably her new piercing.

"But let the boys go and buy it" Walburga continued "And you can wait with me"

The rest of the boys whistled and laughed. Walburga could've sworn Alex was blushing.

"Get out..." Alex instructed his mates "Out of the car now!"

He pushed his friends as they got out. Still giggling and murmuring things. And when they closed the car's door, Walburga and Alex were finally alone.

Alex stared at Walburga with hungry eyes. And he approached to kiss her. But she pulled away, smiling.

"I like your jacket" she said playing with it.

Walburga had seen how her Hogwarts classmates flirted with boys. It always worked. But for Walburga, boys at Hogwarts were out of reach. She had a reputation. And she had no idea who started it.

"Yeah?" Alex bit his lip.

"Can I have it?"

"Of course, princess" Alex took his off.

It was a classic leather jacket. Black. A little torn by the use. But it looked so cool. Like the ones rockstars wore.

"It's pure leather" Alex hissed "I stole it from a posh bloke in a pub.."

Walburga smirked at that. That made it even cooler. She put it on. It was a bit big for her. But it felt right. It smelled of leather, strong cologne and cigarettes.

"It suits'u" Alex stared and stared.

Walburga smiled "Can I keep it?"

Alex seemed reluctant. But he snorted.

"Alright..." he said "What would'u give me in exchange?" he licked his lips "It cost me to get it"

"Maybe..." Walburga whispered "Maybe we can go somewhere else. And you can take it off..." she stared into his eyes "Take everything off"

Alex smiled widely.

"Yeah..."

And he settled in the driver's seat, and Walburga giggled as he turned on the engine. She kissed his cheek as Alex drove away.

"Oi!!" Gus yelled as the car was driving away "Bloody hell... they'left us"

"At least we have the boose" his mate grinned

"And the money" Gus giggled. His friend too.

And after that night, Walburga wore that jacket all the time. Even if her mother said she was going to die of stress. Even if Cygnus said she looked like a hooker. Even if her father said she only wore "boy's clothes". Because Walburga liked it. And it reminded her of freedom, of rebelty, of a life she couldn't have. And of course, Alex. Her first love, because Orion didn't count.

Until Walburga stopped wearing it. And it became a relic stored in the attic. Proof that Walburga was young and way different that the one she became.

Summer 2012.

It had been a horrible summer. And all Sirius could do was try to bother his brother while he attempted to practise piano. And it was so funny. Regulus got so irritated when someone bother him while he played piano.

"Stop..."

"Reggie... You're missing... That was another key"

"It was the right key..."

"Of course not" Sirius shook his head "Have you forgotten the song?"

"No! I haven't!" Regulus said irritated.

"Oi...Reggie"

"Shut up"

"Reggie...."

"Shut up, Sirius!!"

"What about..."

"BLOODY FUCK!!" Regulus exploded "Just leave me the fuck alone!!"

Sirius sighed "You don't have to be so rude" he pouted.

"Just go an occupy yourself with something"

"Like what?" Sirius crossed his arms "I am bored"

"I don't know... Call your bloody friends or whatever..."

Sirius smirked "Aaaw... who is irritated?" he rubbed Regulus' hair.

"Arrrg!!" Regulus protested, and he hit Sirius' ribs "GET THE HELL OUT!"

So Sirius left Regulus alone before he murdered him with something. Sirius couldn't call his friends. James was fishing with his father, what a delight. Remus was angry because of the Snape incident. Sirius had tried to call, many times. More than he should. And Peter always talked and talked for hours about a random thing that Sirius didn't understand about.

Sirius should get more friends.

So he wandered through the house. Boring paintings from the Black Ancestors. Even more boring expensive vases and sculptures. Ancient books that were probably written by the first humans alive. And people cleaning. The maids of the house always looked down when Sirius passed by. They even wore those bloody uniforms. Everytime he waved at one, the girl ran away immediately after she bowed. Probably his parents had instructed not to speak to him.

But then Sirius saw one of them, coming out of the attic. Sirius smirked. He'd never been to the attic. Uncle Alphard had joked once saying the house was haunted. Especially the attic. Sirius needed to see what was in there.

"Hello..."

The maid screamed and jumped in surprised.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to scare you"

The girl immediately bowed. "Mr. Black"

Sirius sighed embarrassed "Please don't do that"

The girl looked at him. She must've been around 20. Sirius smiled at her. She blushed.

"I... I need to get into the attic"

"Yes, sir"

Sirius raised an eyebrow. Was it this easy?

"Do you have the key?"

The girl showed him the key. Sirius smiled.

"You have to give me that back, sir"

Sirius nodded "No problem" he said "What's your name?"

Sirius was embarrassed of not knowing. To be fair, there were many people working in the house. Sirius only knew that if he was hungry, he had to ask something to Samantha. And Kreacher was the head of security (also mother's little spy). And there was Mrs. Syre, the woman who raised him...

"Daphne" the girl blushed

"Cool Daphne" Sirius snorted "Where shall I find you?"

"Amm... I'll be cleaning the main room..."

"Great! I won't take long"

Daphne stared as Sirius climbed the stairs of the attic, practically bouncing. She raised an eyebrow. And then she giggled.

Sirius whistled as he saw the attic. It was huge. It contained many cool things. Mainly old dresses and hats and coats that probably belonged to his grandparents and great grandparents. He tried them on. There was cool jewelry too. A cool old pin with the words "Toujours pur", "Always pure". Sirius knew it came from a Black ancestor. Lycoris Black. The famous priest that burned witches and sinners alive. He was cynical, so the story tells.

Sirius found a shoe box. And he opened it. There were several things that attracted Sirius. Old records and cassettes of cool rock bands from the 80s and 90s. Sirius recognized a few: The cranberries, Nirvana, Radiohead, Journey, Rolling Stones, Oasis... Remus would wet himself seeing all these. Sirius took them. He could show Moony when he got back to Hogwarts. When and if Remus stopped being angry, that is.

And Sirius also found a leather jacket.

"Woow..." he murmured as he eyed it.

It was torn by the use, black color, cool design, 80's model, and it smelled like cigarettes and cologne.

Sirius put it on. Wearing it felt strangely familiar and nice. He felt so powerful, so cool. Like a rockstar. He felt older. Sirius made several poses in front of the old mirror. It felt like the jacket was made for him somehow.

But who could it have belonged to? None of the Blacks were rockstars or gangsters. None of the Blacks were cool. Except maybe one. And he was young in the 80s and 90s... Sort of... Sirius was lazy to make the calculations. Alphard. All these things were definitely his.

Sirius smirked "You wouldn't mind me borrowing this, eh old man?"

So Sirius took the records. And Sirius took the jacket. Convinced everything belonged to his uncle. So that night, he came down to dinner wearing that jacket. Even if Alphard was gone to Rome. Knowing Walburga would have a heart attack. And it was a special night. Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella were invited. And Bella, and Cissy.

"Good afternoon, everyone" Sirius walked in.

And he was right, Walburga almost choked with her wine when he saw him.

"What are you wearing?" Walburga spat low on his ear. That woman hated scandals. She was boring.

"It's called a jacket, mother"

But Walburga was very pale, staring at it, like she had seen a ghost.

"Where did you find it?"

"In the attic" he said "It's not big deal, it was uncle Alphard's"

"Take it off"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "It's just a jacket..."

"I said take it off..." And Walburga pulled from it, violently.

"What the fuck is your problem, mother?" Sirius spat.

And Walburga slapped him. And everyone stared at them. Bellatrix, that bitch always grinned when Sirius was violented.

"What seems to be the problem, darling?" Orion asked, clenching his teeth.

"That jacket is indecent for dinner" Walburga said "Tell him to take it off"

Orion wrinkled his nose "And smells terrible" he said "Take it off, son"

"No..." Sirius was tired of them dictating his life. Even what he had to wear.

"Excuse me?"

"Listen to your father, Sirius" Walburga looked furious.

"What's the problem?" Sirius spat "Bellatrix dresses up like whore and nobody tells her anything"

"Excusez-moi?" Bella gasped.

"Shut up and take that bloody jacket off. Or I'll take it off by force" Orion grunted.

"Do it" Walburga threatened.

Sirius looked around. Cygnus and Druella were expecting Sirius to lose control, like they were used to it. Bella was very happy with the situation. And Narcissa had a scared face. It resembled Regulus', who was playing with his hands, nervously. Sirius wanted to cry. It wasn't fair. But he took the jacket off. Because he was a coward scared of Orion and the consequences.

And Walburga teared the jacket off Sirius' hands, before he could protest.

"Samantha..." Walburga called, still looking at Sirius with hate.

"Yes, madam?" Samantha appeared on the door.

"I want you to burn this" Walburga said

"No..." Sirius said but couldn't yell, because Orion had put a hand on his shoulder "It was Uncle Alphard's"

"Well... My dear brother is not here to protest, is he?" Cygnus said sipping his drink.

Sirius hated him.

"Burn it now" Walburga insisted.

Samantha looked surprised. But she nodded and left with the jacket. Sirius swallowed his tears. He could see Regulus was sad for him too.

Sirius was furious. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. At least he hid the records under his bed. Sirius clenched his nails on his palm.

"You're a bitch, mother" the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Walburga didn't seem perturbed. She kept drinking her wine as if nothing had happened.

"And you'll have dinner in your room" she said, tired.

"Come on, I'll take you there" Orion squeezed his shoulder. And Sirius knew he was screwed. Orion was going to hit him. Without his uncle, aunt and cousins seeing.

Orion gave him a good punch that made his lip bleed.

"For being a little insolent" he spat "And don't you dare cry, you have to a be a man"

And he shut the door closed. And Sirius screamed into his pillow. It wasn't fair.

Later that summer, after he was disowned, Sirius let the Potters take him shopping for some clothes. And the first thing he asked for was a leather jacket. The one that resembled most to the one he had lost. And from then, Sirius always wore leather. Kind of like a symbol. A symbol that he was his own self, and he was very different from the Blacks.

[jettingtothemoon]

Costume Party

➳ pairing: alucard x trevor x m!reader ➳ genre: fluff, modern au ➳ warnings: swearing, suggestive themes?, alcohol usage ➳ word count: 2337 ➳ rating: pg-15 ➳ summary: In which you and adrian throw trevor a surprise halloween party. ➳ a/n: a request from wattpad

What better place to throw a Halloween party other than Dracula's castle itself? Well, what used to be Dracula's castle. Now, it was your home but it wasn't like you lived here alone.

"Here?" Adrian questioned, looking at your for confirmation that he had chosen the correct place to hang the fake cobwebs.

You smiled, happy to see him taking this seriously despite originally thinking it might not have been a good idea, "Yeah, that's perfect."

It had been your suggestion to prepare a surprise Halloween party for Trevor when he arrived back home. He was in need of some fun, especially after such a long trip. Well, it was only a few days but those few days were very long without him. Both you and Adrian had missed him a great deal.

It's the 21st century so of course, you both called him while he was away but it just wasn't the same as seeing him in person. What better way to welcome him back other than with crazy costumes, fake blood and a keg full of beer? Well, he would at least appreciate the boose.

"Who did you invite again?" Adrian questioned, climbing down from the chair he had previously been standing on.

You finished putting up the last of the decorations in your hand and turned to him, "You know, a few people we know. The castle will be well filled out befitting a great party."

Adrian hummed and walked over to you, "Well, we better get you in a costume before they get here."

With a grin, you happily followed Adrian upstairs to the bedroom. He had already picked out a costume for you, although he made sure to keep it a surprise until this very moment.

"Is that a dress?"

Once again, he hummed and picked up the torn, tattered and bloody white dress, "Trevor will be Frankenstein and you'll be his bride."

After a very brief second of silence, you burst out laughing. It wasn't anything you would have ever expected from Adrian. Actually, you had expected him to make you dress up as a werewolf or a vampire-like himself but no, here he was putting you in a dress.

"Alright then, but doesn't that leave you out?"

"Well, I of course will be Dr Frankenstien himself. A vampire version, obviously. I think that makes me your owner." Adrian explained his idea behind the costumes and how he wasn't left out of it.

You raised an eyebrow and chuckled whilst eyeing up the dress he had prepared for you, "Our owner? I don't think Trevor will like that."

"No, but I'm sure he will be more than pleased to have you as his bride. Oh, and just in case you're not comfortable in the dress I brought some shorts for you to wear underneath."

You smiled and began to change, noticing how Adrian wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was eyeing you up. When you had managed to pull the dress on properly, you tried to reach for the zip only to find that it was out of reach.

As if on cue, Adrian circled around you and slowly began to pull the zip up, "Don't you look pretty."

"I feel ridiculous. You know most of the people coming to this party are my friends right? I will never live this down." You sighed, although you weren't going to oppose wearing the costume Adrian had specifically picked out for you.

"They'll simply be too stunned to care. You look beautiful my love. Now, time for the make-up." He clasped his hands together excitedly.

It was nice to see him enjoying himself. A Halloween party wasn't something Adrian agreed to immediately but the second you told him that he could pick out a costume for both you and Trevor, well, his thoughts on the matter changed entirely.

Make-up was a must for Halloween. Even if it simply meant some face paint and a bit of fake blood. For Adrian, however, it was simply another fun activity to do with you. With a look of complete concentration on his face, Adrian worked his magic and made you look like a bride befitting the undead Frankenstein.

"There, now just let me spray some temporary colour into your hair and we'll be done."

Once your costume was complete, Adrian instructed you to go finish off laying out the snacks and drinks. And so, you left him to change into his own costume and started by lugging the beer kegs into place.

"What the fuck are you wearing?"

A familiar voice echoed from behind you as Trevor ducked under the spooky tunnel you had created at the entrance of the castle out of a few black sheets and lots of string.

You turned around with a smile, "We're having a Halloween party. I'm the Bride of Frankenstein."

"And where is this Frankenstein, huh? I might just have to duel him for his bride's affection."

It was embarrassing just hearing him say it but Trevor had always been a little possessive of you and Adrian. He was just like that with the people he loved.

"That would be you, actually. Come on, we don't have long and you need to get in your costume." Adrian explained, ushering Trevor up the stairs the moment he reached the bottom.

He was already in his costume, although he was only about halfway through spraying the white colour onto his golden hair. It was a simple costume. A white lab coat that was covered in splatters of fake blood, accompanied by the trail of red that ran along the side of his mouth. Of course, to top it off he was colouring his hair and donning a pair of long black gloves. Not to mention, his fangs were on full display for all to see.

"If you try to paint me green I swear to God Adrian..." Trevor grumbled as he followed after the blonde.

Not long after they disappeared upstairs, guests began to arrive. You were left to greet them all, laughing with them when they mentioned how great your costume was. By the time your lovers returned, the castle was flooded with a sea of people, all dressed up in gory costumes that matched perfectly with the decorations you and Adrian had spent the better half of the day putting up.

"I know what you're thinking, such a dashing monster. You know, I'm usually the one killing the monsters, not pretending to be one." Trevor chuckled as he and Adrian rejoined you.

He hadn't had much time to rest after coming back from his trip, if he had any at all, but he didn't seem the least bit tired. In fact, he looked ready to party. Music boomed through the castle, trembling through the very foundations and, like a leaf in the wind, Trevor was blown along with it. Well, blown over to the beer.

Adrian stood by your side, wrapping an arm delicately around your waist as he leaned into you, "You know, I think this is the best idea you've had in a while. Now, whilst he drinks himself into oblivion, why don't we have a little fun ourselves?"

Before you could ask what he meant, you were whisked away into the crowd of bodies. You certainly hadn't invited this many people but you weren't surprised that more people showed up. The news of a Halloween party in the haunted castle must have spread through town rather quickly.

Adrian took your hand in his and danced so slowly with you, despite the fast pace of the music. He wasn't dancing to the music at all. No, he was simply dancing with you. You rested your head against his shoulder with a smile, welcoming his embrace after such a long and tiresome day. Although, you suspected it would be an even longer night.

"Come on you two, stop being so boring and drink with me!" Trevor yelled over the music, interrupting you and Adrian as he grabbed both of you and pulled you over to where the drinks were.

Trevor was never one for romance, although he had his moments. Now, however, was not one of them.

He shoved a pint of beer into your hand and then passed one to Adrian, who sighed with a roll of his eyes and downed the drink in one. You soon followed suit. The pints soon turned into shots and, before long, the three of you were really rather drunk. With a hearty laugh, Trevor wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his entire weight falling onto you for a brief moment before he found his feet again.

"We should do this all the time."

You chuckled, "Do what? Dress up as monsters and party?"

"No. Drink, party and fuck to our hearts' content!" Trevor declared with yet another laugh.

It was nice seeing him having fun without any stress. He liked to stress. Too many monsters to kill, not enough monsters to kill. Not enough time at home with you and Adrian, too much time stuck at home. He was hard to please but always told the two of you how you made his life worth living, even if mostly when he was drunk or simply feeling extra sappy.

"You know, we haven't actually done that last one yet." You smirked.

Just because Trevor wasn't home for a few days didn't mean that you and Adrian hadn't, well, had sex. Of course you had but there was something about it when it wasn't all three of you, it just wasn't complete. Enjoyable, yes. But in the end you'd always wind up lying in bed wondering what Trevor was up to, amusing yourselves by joking about how he was probably lying in bed all grumpy because the two of you weren't by his side. He always missed you when he went on his trips and the two of you certainly missed him. Adrian went with him sometimes which meant that you were home all on your own until they returned, although they always made sure not to be gone for too long.

"That is true. Think we can ditch our own party and head upstairs?"

Before you could answer, Adrian stumbled past yelling out nonsense right before collapsing onto the sofa.

"Or not." Trevor sighed, although you simply giggled at the state Adrian was in.

Neither Trevor or Adrian were good at holding their beer but, when it came to Trevor at least he could function somewhat rationally no matter how smashed he was. Adrian, on the other hand, was and will always be a paralytic drunk.

"Let's get him to bed." You chuckled, dragging Trevor along to help you carry Adrian up the stairs.

The blonde grinned at you and extended his arms out towards you as if he knew what was happening, grabbing at the air between the two of you as he slurred, "Up, up. Let's gooooo."

You shook your head and went to help him up but, before you could, Trevor had beaten you to it, "Can't have my bride tugging this sack of potatoes up the stairs, can I?"

"Just get him to bed, I'll clear everyone out. What time even is it? One? Two in the morning?"

"Three. It's almost three in the morning." Trevor groaned and threw Adrian's arm around his neck as he gently picked him up.

With a nod, you headed over to the speaker, unplugging it before yelling at the top of your lungs that the party was over. You thanked everyone for coming as the left, sounding almost like a broken record as the swarm of bodies passed you and began heading home. There were a couple of people completely lying around but, after checking they were all still alive, you decided to just leave them to their sleep and sleepily began to head for your room.

When you got there, neither Adrian nor Trevor was anywhere to be seen. It didn't take long to find them though, you simply followed the sound of someone being sick until you reached the bathroom. And there they were. Adrian with his head down the toilet and Trevor, sweetly holding his hair back and rubbing circles into his back.

"This is your fault." Adrian sulked before throwing up what was left in his stomach.

Trevor simply continued to rub those soothing circles into his back and, once Adrian was done, allowed him to fall back against him, "I know, I know. I'm sorry."

"Let's get you to bed." You yawned, crouching down beside Adrian before you helped Trevor get him back on his feet.

The three of you staggered along back to your bed. Adrian was the first to flop down into it, his hair splaying out on the pillow as he landed on his side of the bed. 

Trevor noticed you were struggling with the dress and came to help you unzip it. Although he didn't stop there and also went as far to push it over your shoulders until it fell onto the floor.

"You had to be wearing shorts under it." He sighed and buried his head into the crook of your neck.

You chuckled, "That's never stopped you before."

He hummed against your skin, kissing it softly before letting go and allowing you to step out of the dress. For tonight the paint, fake blood, hair colouring and make-up with have to say but there was no way you were going to wear that uncomfortable costume to bed. Trevor seemed to agree, at least to some extent, and pulled off his shirt before climbing in beside Adrian, carefully pushing his long hair over so that he wouldn't lie on it.

"Come on then." He spoke with a soft voice and lifted his arm so that you could lie against him.

You didn't waste a moment and crawled onto the large bed, squeezing up against Trevor as you rested your head against his chest.

Adrian, who you had both expected to have already conked out by now, rolled over and placed a hand on the other side of Trevor's chest with a sleepy smile, "We missed you."

"Yeah, yeah. I missed you too." He spoke with a slight blush, although you were certain that was because of the alcohol.

And so, snuggled together in bed, you finally fell asleep as three once again.

[sharkface-daydreams]

@texas-hates-taxes-too I giggled at the last tag x3 also

*kicks in the door and slams more au stuff on the table* GOOD NEWS I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THE RECOLLECTION PART THAT'S GOING UNDER A CUT BC I GOT RAMBLY

ok! so. after watching the ship blow up, tucker's fucking distraught thinking his kid is dead, church thinks Tex is dead, the rest of blue team is upset, things are kind of shit for a while. then the UNSC calls up tucker because junior had his name and tucker's phone number written inside his armor u know like u do with the coats of small children. and they're like "is this your child we found him clinging to the leg of a soldier with aqua armor at one of our outposts" junior bit wyoming in the leg when he tried to kidnap him and when they landed/fell into another outpost he saw the aqua armor and was like DAD HELP but it wasn't tucker (but they did help the kid and wyoming was like oh shit this isn't a sim base this is the actual UNSC and booked it) and also they want him and junior to be alien ambassadors so Tucker and Yurch get Vic to pull some strings so Yurch can go with them to Sanghelios bc fambly gotta stick together :3c (a family can be a human dude, a robot dude, and their tiny alien son 😌💙💛💚)

Church is like *gets relocation orders* yeah this is bullshit *calls command* "hey fuckers you can't separate me and caboose he got all fucked up in the head for your stupid war so he needs someone looking after him and that's gotta be me because I know his medication schedule and how to deal with his night terrors and also his allergies and favorite snacks" and command can't say "we need to isolate u bc ur what's left of alpha" so they're like ..... nnnnngh ok fine but they send one of the remaining agents to Rats Nest too to keep an eye on everything

(since Boose and Church are stationed at Rats Nest across from Grif and Simmons the blue team agent grif sells the ammo to is church lol)

also I've been doodling since I couldn't go back to sleep so here's agent Rhode Island aka Private Duncan Argus, "sim trooper" who keeps almost blowing his cover bc he's way too competent to be on their level so he intentionally drags his feet and trips over stuff among other demoralizing intentional fuckups

I'm thinking that dark blue Violet for armor scheme since the rats Nest blues all had different colored shoulders. not sure about freelancer armor accents tho. still on the fence

Church is there to remind Caboose to keep his safety on so far fewer people get shot👍

and Miller is a little grumpy about losing Church when Wash comes to pick them up because he's their little office rat. he can't hit the broad side of a barn with literally any weapon but he ran blue base in BG so long he's like *gets reports done 10x faster than anyone else but is also a little shit about it*

Caboose: Did someone die?

Wash: What? No one died—

Caboose: Did Church die again?

Wash: .... what?!

Church: I'm not dead you idiot, I'm literally standing right next to you.

Caboose: 😔 Sometimes I can still hear his voice.

Church: See, now I know you're just fucking with me.

Wash: ... what is wrong with you people.

this is already kind of long and i haven't even gotten the freelancers yet I'll put that in a separate post tho I think, that's a lot on its own

(thank u for the interest I didn't think anyone else would like it 👉👈)

[redjaybathood]

Promt by @dn-ky: Jason masterfully lifted the wheels off the Batmobile.

Problem with luxury items on black market, if they’re unique enough, you ain’t getting a fair price - you gonna get killed. Some things are worth risking for, his father said. Willis meant “fine wine, women, and honor”, what actually meant “boose, Jason’s mother, and dumbass posturing”. Jason wasn’t about that. Didn’t drink, Catherine was dead, and making yourself seem bigger and meaner and as cool as you can was a tool, not the end goal. The end goal was to stay alive, through this winter till the next, till the next, till the next, till he’s sixteen and maybe can hold a real job, with real money. Get GED. Get a better job. Get a place of his own. Save up for community college. Study. Get a better job. Start living and not surviving.

That was the plan, at least. But on the streets, you can’t skip too many meals. You might as well stop eating entirely, stop breathing and save yourself a bother. You get weak on the streets, you get dead.

It started well enough. Three wheels off and safely away at his apartment. The fourth one he had to leave when the Bat showed up.

Willis was secretly a fanboy. He got a scar from a batarang and showed it as a badge of merit: he went against the Batman and still here to tell the tale. It worked for him fine until it got him a reputation, and reputation on the streets meant that while some people would be less inclined to fuck with you, other people, bigger, meaner people, cops, would like it all the more.

So it went against what Jason learned from his father but exactly what Willis tried to teach him: when Batman showed up, Jason didn’t just run away, he swung his tire iron on him, and it actually connected. And then, he ran away. But not to the safety of his apartment. Jason didn’t hit that hard, Batman will be on his feet in no time, and it wouldn’t take long for him to catch up. Better to do it somewhere the rest of tires weren’t.

Like, for example, the yard between buildings on Crow and Kane: connecting two bordering territories, it’s a free for all zone. Doesn’t matter which colors you’re wearing, if any, and so game tables for bones were placed there, and Willis himself lost here more than a few bucks playing cards too. Jason didn’t expect anyone to actually be there tonight - half the city on blackout. While the yard counted as neutral grounds, nobody actually wanted to hang out there in the dark.

But, Jason reasoned, going that way or from there, you were bound to bump into either Green Crows’ enforcers, or Blue Spiders’ lookouts. His age and the fact that he wasn’t loitering would let him pass safely, he gambled. Not so for a man in black cowl and cape.

Fair enough: Crows thought he came for them and rushed before Batman could do much more than glower at Jason’s back, safely running across the yard and slipping out through the fence on the other side.

“Batman’s busting Crows!” Jason crooned from a distance when he noticed a movement and a flare of cigarette.

If his luck held, it was a Spider, and while someone busting your competition would be a good thing in the long run, it being so close did not bode well for Spiders. And, well, they were proactive sorts. They either joined the fray - on either side, on both sides - or use this opportunity and the darkness to lift some goods from the neighbors.

Or, maybe, they won’t do anything. Jason couldn’t rely on luck. He couldn’t rest yet, he had to cover his tracks. No better way to do it than to get back at the scene of the crime. Only books tell you that criminals always come back there, Jason was pretty sure nobody was that stupid. So it actually had to work as a double bluff of sorts, right?

He came back. Batman wasn’t there yet. The fourth tire still was. That is, until Jason rolled it away, all the way to his hideout.

Normally, he would have brought at least one of it to his guy. But he was tired enough, and besides. He didn’t know yet if it was feasible to sell the Bat-tires one by one. Nobody else but Bat himself would have a matching one, would he? And selling it to Bobby Coon one by one, so he would have to keep up the headache of finding the buyer would be a short ticket to Heaven, as he wasn’t a patient man and would rather track you down if you had something he wanted strong enough, and take it, and dump your body into a river. Selling it all at once would be getting shortchanged for sure.

I will think about it tomorrow, Jason decided.

[honey-dont]

hmm, let's see...ah yes! i MAY or MAY NOT have multiple freight hc's:

- rocky 1: He isn't necessarily in the "leader" position all the time, knowing his little sister is...equally knee-deep in said position.

- rocky 2: He is BY ALL MEANS, the most immature and childish out. of all three rockies. I mean yes, he does have "smart-cookie-brain-cells" in him, but sometimes they kind of slip out of the way. Play "All Star" by SMASH, and he will loose his godforsaken marbles.

- rocky 3: This girl, my friend, can do a quite accurate Sylvester Stallone impression...Don't ask. She just can. <3 (The rest her brothers also do Sylvester Stallone impressions. But they tend to semi-playfully fight over who has the better one.)

- flat-top: He can and WILL beat anyone in chess. (There were a few occasions where he beat Dustin, a-hem)

- dustin: Ask our favorite hopper in the world what his favorite animal is, and he'll tell you he loves all of them equally. FOR EXAMPLE, Dustin will be one to go heart-eyed and crazy over the next puppy he sees.

- cb: THIS BOOSE-BOY, MY GOD...IS ONE. MEAN. TAP DANCER. :D

aww these are so cute!! intrigued by the logistics of tap dancing in skates ngl

also how did you get colored text i didn't know we could do that

[vinylhazza]

28 w/ e 💖💖💖

prompt list

28. they ask you to pretend to be their date at a bar to prevent an ex from talking to them. 

being dragged to a bar was the one thing you wanted to happen after a long day at work. granted, it was a friday and it was a day most people chose to ‘go out on the town’ or let loose - but all you desired at the moment was a nice glass of your favorite pear red wine,  your newest book you’d purchased at the local bookstore, and your sweet kitty egypt. she must have been so worried when you didn’t come home. that thought alone made you want to ditch the uncomfortable heels and fake smile you wore. 

you’d left work, drove directly to your good friends house, and begrudgingly gotten ready in front of her tiny bathroom mirror. you’d stuffed a black dress into your purse before leaving the house that morning, knowing something ridiculous like this would happen, but hoping it wouldn’t. thankfully she had makeup and a curling iron she let you use so you weren’t walking into a bar with a bun similar to a librarian (you know the one). it was all you had to work with - so you would be surprised if you didn’t look like the total train wreck you felt like.  

the bar well, it was packed. you’d stumbled in with linked arms, your friend trotting off somewhere into the sea of dancing bodies promises she’d “be right back.” fat chance. you’d shot up some conversation with a mutual friend, something about an ex who knew a guy that could possibly get her a new car, something that you weren’t interested in in the slightest. but of course, because the kind person you were, you watched your friend disappear into the crowd and off to discuss the details of their little financial exchange - leaving you to your own lonely devices.

with a pout you make your way over to the bar, making sure to not make any unwaranted eye contact with any of the other people that had the same idea as you - hoisting yourself up into a tall barstool that feels like a feat in itself to get into, but in no time you’re seated firmly on the stiff maroon cushion - browsing the rows and rows boose behind the counter. you weren’t much of a “whiskey on the rocks” type of girl - really a mixed drink type of gal. the simplest drink you’d get is a Manhattan - which sounded best right now. if you’re going to be alone for a while, the least you could do is make sure you’re relaxed - which you definitely weren’t at the moment.

“just a Manhattan please,” you tell the middle aged bartender, not quite sure if you’re using the right word for what you want, but he nods without hesitation, turning to the shelves of alcohol on the back wall - taking down a bottle and a clear drinking glass. a sigh ripples through your chest and oozes out of your mouth.

why did i think this was a good idea? you wine to yourself, all alone in a bar on the opposite side of town. somewhere you didn’t want to be, never would want to be, and only made your appearance because of your friend that is off somewhere with a friend probably much more outgoing than you. you envisioned her as a “fly by the seat of your pants” type of person - something you envied.

but instead of sulking to yourself, you decided you’d simply enjoy your drink. that’s all you had to do, look at the light at the end of the very shitty tunnel that was your day. yeah, you’d been yelled at by a customer for something that was not and would never be your fault. yes, you’d shed a tear or two in the back room because your grandma of 92 years of age buttdialed you on break thinking in was your grandma that died two years ago. yes, your feet were blistering from the heels you bought from a website that swore on everything they had the comfiest shoes around. yes, your day was shit. it was utter shit - but it had to get better right?

just as the bartender slides the glass across the slick wooden counter - a dashing boy with a head full of dark hair is leaning over you with a frazzled expression, nervousness seeping from his every nerve. he was...very attractive. it took your breath away for a moment, if you’re being honest. his hand rests on the counter right by your own that stopped the glass at the last minute - thanking the good Lord above you didn’t have to hassle with a mess of alcohol on the floor.

“please tell me you’re not here with a date or something,” the boy states, baritone voice melodic over the loud music. it was more of a plead than anything.

after your initial shock of being bothered after your attempt at being invisible, you’re shaking your head nervously, glancing around you to see who he’s watching out for all worried and anxious - just to be on the lookout so you don’t get yourself into a dangerous situation - you were scared you’re teetering that line right now anyhow.

“uh no no, no date but my friend is just over there-“ your finger points off in the general direction where she disappeared into the crowd earlier in the night, hoping she was at least in the same general area.

“then do me a favor and act like i said something funny,” he interjects quickly, scraping another barstool across the floor to sit right beside you, his arm leaning on the counter with a forced grin - visibly trying to prove something to someone.

but you give in. of course you do, who are you to mess up someone’s desperately thrown together plan of looking put together when they’re actually falling apart? you take a sip from your drink with a nod, setting it neatly on the counter before you’re laughing. and oh my gosh were you laughing - just really putting on a show.

it’s something that floods from you, like a river raging through you and you don’t even know where the water came from. he’s a stranger, you don’t owe him any favors - not a one. yet you find yourself complying to sudden request to laugh - that’s all. that’s all he’d asked of you.

the devilishly attractive boy is watching you close, with this playful glint in his eye that just keeps growing as the laughter bubbles from you - your hand raising to grab at his arm to seal the deal. you hope that whoever is watching, whatever relation he may have to them, that they believe your little facade. you have 0 clue why you are laughing with a handsome stranger in a bar after a fucked day while drinking a cocktail you don’t even care about anymore - but it felt good to laugh. even if it was fake and you looked crazy to the lingering eyes around you.

“what am i laughing at exactly?...” you stutter with a sigh and a tired smile, wiping a fake tear from your eye in an attempt to look the most joyful you’ve been in a while.

“ethan - uh ethan dolan,” he offers up his name. such a lovely name. very fitting for him as well, “and it’s just eh...you see that girl over there in the red?” he bends over to talk by your ear, not wanting whoever it is to see him being so polite with someone he’s meant to look close with.

glancing over your shoulder seemed like the worst idea in history, there were so many options for how it could go: lock eyes like the suspect, look around and find her to be a godess among men and women - totally out of your league, or simply mistake her for the wrong person. but when your head does turn, just the slightest bit, you see her. in a knee-length sundress fit for a bar - sort of on the skimpy side but still modest enough to not look too desperate. you approved. she looked like a lovely girl. that is, until her head of blonde hair whips to your direction, a glare shooting straight from her glasses framed eyes.

you snap your gaze away just as quickly, knowing it’s a fight you didn’t want any part of. you had no interest in being “the other woman.”

you’re nodding back at him with a frown, not sure why you feel this strange vibe eminating from that girl across the bar - but you don’t like it.

but - oh. oh. he’s looking at you still, observing you watch his evil ex try to seduce him back with her swaying hips across some mans bulge. but here he is, having all eyes for you. stop looking at me. wait don’t stop.

let’s just say it’s been...a while since a man has looked in your direction. you were of course not the shy type exactly - but right on the cusp. you observed the room. you made yourself noticeable that in case anyone would talk to you, you’d be the one they’d lean over to, to make their comment. but you could also make yourself as invisible as you pleased - and you’d thougt you’d done a good job tonight. but obviously with ethan sitting here looking at you, you didn’t succeed.

it’s spilling from your mouth before you could stop it, “she doesn’t really seem like your type.”

and you think for a moment , from the raising of his right eyebrow, that he’s angry. that you’d pressed a button somewhere under his dashing exterior. but then - he’s laughing. really laughing. it’s like a zap of lightening inside you, stirring up something that hasn’t been touched for years.

“and what do you think ‘my type’ is?” ethan firing back with a low tone, smiling so deviously. is he flirting?

“i’m not sure, but i know it isn’t her.” and it’s bold - to say such a thing about a person you don’t even know. maybe it’s the night you’ve had, or the fact that he’s already made you feel a sense of comfort, but you find yourself being the most honest in the moment.

he gives a nod, a simple bob of his head while still keeping those gorgeous eyes plastered on your face - waiting for something - you’re not sure what until he runs a hand through his hair and finally lets his thoughts spill out in a nervous jumble of words.

“she doesn’t give up easy that’s for sure. she’s been harassing me for a couple weeks and i can’t get her to stop and...” he’s thinking carefully, “...i uh...was hoping maybe you would be willing to maybe act like this is something like a date? just so she won’t try anything.”

“you don’t have your friends with you? you’re here alone?” you make it a point before you agree, just confused why he’s asking something so random and so elaborate. if you don’t look the part, she won’t believe a thing. girls are observant that way.

“my brother is here somewhere - i’m not sure i lost him but - are you in or not?”

and you think for a minute, lookin back over your shoulder to the door, wondering if you left right now - just grabbed your friend and went home like you had planned all day - how much you would regret it. it was simple really. in or out?

his leg bounces under the table, anxious with every minute that passes, feeling her eyes searing through his skin across the room - waiting for her moment to pounce. please say yes please just say yes.

it’s not that big of a deal right? pretend and you won’t see him again and you can go back to your normal, boring excuse of a life right? just this once?

“okay,” you smile brightly, tilting your head back and downing the last bit of your drink, setting the glass on the counter firmly with a smack, “i’m in.”

and you don’t know it - after what seemed like minutes but was actually close to an hour and half sitting there leaning into him, engaged in this little game of yours - that the same girl you’re putting on a show for had left that bar. got in her car, admitted defeat , and left. you’d been so caught up in talking to ethan about nonsense: laughing, talking, singing ridiculous songs that played over the speakers - that you hardly remembered it was fake.

it was only when you’re friend came up to tap your arm that you were pulled back down to reality. you’d been floating somewhere off in space with this high happiness that washed over you just talking to someone so freely. ethan was easy to talk to. even when you’re yelling over loud music.

and it shocked you to your core that as you got up from your seat, tripping just a bit to try and follow your friend, that ethan grabbed at your arm - a nervous expression crossing his face at the sight of you leaving. he was just having so much fun for once, never having felt so comfortable and safe with a girl he just met before.

“look uh, i know this is really random but uh...would it be okay for me to see you again?” he’s fumbling, hand still on your arm - so warm.

he’s standing now, and you realize just how tall he is. and your friend, still confused, but smirking behind you, nudges at your back with your silence. you wanted that. of course you did. but what would change if you said yes? what kind of trust would you have to put in him for just a chance at something wonderful?

before you can think too hard of the outcome of something that hasn’t even happened yet, your hand dives into the black abyss of your purse - pulling out a ripped piece of paper and a pen - jotting down seven digits that he would soon use to talk to you for hours upon hours - the same number he would call one lazy sunday afternoon, missing you, just to tell you how much he loves you. you write down those numbers and leave a little heart at the end. handing it to him felt like freedom. something inside you screamed that you shouldn’t be afraid - that you didn’t have to be afraid of ethan. even if it was terrifying to start again, start over, try to let yourself be vulnerable - you had a feeling this was a good idea.

“don’t wait to long,” you leaned in to tell him, placing the sweetest of kisses right to the apple of his blushing cheek, all while tucking the frayed piece of paper into his hand securely. his heart was racing - oh God was it racing and - what was he worried about his ex for? he watched you saunter away from him, smile lighting up your face, hips swaying just the right way, your arm linked with your friend. he doesn’t even jump when a plastered grayson slaps his hand onto his shoulder - where he stares at the door you disappeared in and out to the night - off and ready to steal his heart. he didn’t flinch when graysons sour attitude tried to interrupt the weird high he felt after your lips landed on his skin. he didn’t let it bother him because fuck - he was totally enamored by you.

don’t wait too long don’t wait too long don’t wait too long

and you better believe when i tell you he didn’t.

[ukdamo]

The Oracles

AE Houseman

’Tis mute, the word they went to hear on high Dodona mountain   When winds were in the oakenshaws and all the cauldrons tolled, And mute’s the midland navel-stone beside the singing fountain,   And echoes list to silence now where gods told lies of old.

I took my question to the shrine that has not ceased from speaking,   The heart within, that tells the truth and tells it twice as plain; And from the cave of oracles I hear the priestess shrieking   That she and I should surely die and never live again.

Oh priestess, what you cry is clear, and sound good sense I think it;   But let the screaming echoes rest, and froth your mouth no more. ’Tis true there’s better boose than brine, but he that drowns must drink it;   And oh, my lass, the news is news that men have heard before.

The king with half the East at heel is marched from lands of morning;   Their fighters drink the rivers up, their shafts benight the air. And he that stands must die for nought, and home there’s no returning.   The Spartans on the sea-wet rock sat down and combed their hair.